Amaryllis

3

"There's actually a library in this house," Harry breathes, awed, standing in the open double door.

The walls are covered in shelves upon shelves of books, more bookcases lining the floor in neat aisles, a pandemonium of faded colours. Several plush armchairs sit pushed tight against the walls, tall windows light dust motes in the air, and the melted candles on low coffee tables lend the library an air of age and wisdom. It looks very old but very well taken care of, with red carpets bright and windows gleaming.

"Sure is," Liam says, stroking the back of one of the chairs absentmindedly. "We don't really go here much, to be honest. It's got some great werewolf books, though."

He motions for Harry to follow him, and Harry does so without question. He's more than a little overwhelmed, trying to take everything in.

He'd never even dreamed of a place like this – a house hidden in the forest, old and run down, looking like it belongs in a different century; and four strange, strange boys in it, as mysterious as they are wonderful. It feels a little like an adventure, a little like being inside a fairytale, to be allowed in their small world, if only for a while.

They stop in front of an isolated shelf, all the way down a long aisle. The wood it's made of looks darker than the other furniture, and the books in it are a muted palette of browns and greys.

"I've read all of these," Liam says, sounding very satisfied with himself. "Had to use a dictionary, though."

"All of them?"

"Yep," he reaches to take a small brown paperback off the shelf. The words J. C. Silsbury's A Complete Guide to Life With Lycanthropy shine dully across the front. "This one's the best. Written by an actual werewolf, too - a lot of these are people who have never seen an actual wolf, let alone one of us, and it's mostly fairytale bull – and here's some myths and legends, if you're interested." He pulls out book after book, loading them happily into Harry's hands. "There's a few medical ones, too, but I swear those are half in Latin."

"That's fine," Harry huffs, trying to keep his balance. "These are enough, I'm not that fast of a reader."

"Sure," Liam chirps, "Just, hold on—oh, here it is." He pulls the only red book off the shelf to Harry's right. The cover says nothing, decorated only with a silvery etching of two wolves sitting across from each other, and Liam blushes suspiciously as he hands it to him.

"Thanks, Liam," says Harry, and is answered with a smile.

"It's really not a problem," says Liam, "These have far more than we could ever tell you, and a lot of things we'd probably forget about. Werewolf stuff is very individual," he says seriously.

On Harry's insistence, they take a little more time to walk around the library. Liam's fingers absently trace the spines lined up on the shelves. After some strategic prompting, he tells Harry more about the house – build in the 1800s and Louis's now, inheritance from some long gone relative. He's careful about it, reluctant, and Harry doesn't push any more when he steers the topic in a different direction. Instead, he tells Harry about the Dutch family who built the house, the stories of their ghosts who wouldn't rest because they wanted to return to their homeland.

Harry doesn't believe in ghosts, but he can't help finding himself completely fascinated. Just thinking about someone walking this library floor a hundred years ago sends pleasant shivers down his spine.

The sudden noise of a door opening has them both turning around, leaning over to peek in between the aisles.

"Liam?" Zayn's voice calls out.

"Over here," Liam shouts back. Underneath the tall ceiling, their voices echo.

"Hey," Zayn smiles from the other end of the aisle, "I'm going. Just wanted to say bye."