Black Family Library
“I’m going to be a knight,”
- Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
Ron sighs, eyeing the growing pile of books in front of him with dread.
“Hermione,” he murmurs, lips tugging upwards when he sees her head pop up from behind the stack. She raises an eyebrow, shooting him an unimpressed glare.
“Well?” She asks, eyes darting back down to the page in front of her. A stray lock of hair falls into her face and Ron breathes out slowly, fighting the urge to tuck it away. “What is it?”
"I just have this feeling we won't find anything," he admits quietly, gesturing towards the papers sprawled around them. "I'm starting to doubt if such a thing even exists."
He debates on whether to tell her the creeps he gets around some of these books. Many of them contain ancient rituals and knowing the Blacks, Ron knows they mean nothing good. And he’s not sure Hermione can understand the severity of how dangerous some of these spells really are.
Hermione leans forward, eyes gleaming maniacally. “This place is filled with closely guarded secrets. Do you know how many people would kill to be in my shoes? There has to be something in here.”
Ron slumps back into his chair. ‘We’ve been in here for over an hour,” he grumbles, casting a frustrated glance at the books. “And we’re still at square one!”
And I’m getting tired of this dreary place, he thinks privately, pointedly looking away from the dried stains on the floor.
Hermione glances over at Ron, her brows furrowed in concentration. "We need to keep at it, Ron. There must be something here we're missing," she urges, her voice determined.
Ron bites his cheek, wavering when he sees her hands shake. He knows some of the rituals and potions mentioned in many of these books aren’t shy to hide their hatred of anything not pureblood.
He's stumbled upon more than a few spells with promises of sapping away from the magic of a muggleborn, or rituals that involve enslaving magical creatures. And if he’s stumbled upon a few, imagine how many Hermione has?
"You really should take a break," He insists, tone softening as his eyes drift down to the worn down book in his hands. “You've been at this for ages.”
Hermione looks up, frustration appearing between the lines on her forehead. "I appreciate your concern, but I need to figure this out." She frowns, tugging at her hair. “I’m so close …I just need a bit more time.”
“You won’t find anything pushing yourself like that,” Ron urges, exasperated. “You need to rest. I need to rest.”
“Then you should go rest!"She finally snaps, face coloring in regret immediately after.
Ron stands up, loudly dragging his chair backwards. "Fine," he mutters, glaring. "Don’t listen to me. Who cares if you faint from exhaustion?”
He turns, snatching the book he’d been reading, and heads for the library doors. Hermione lets him, watching as his figure gets smaller and smaller before she finally turns around.
She misses how the book in Rons hand glows softly.