"And that's it?"
"That's it," Hermione smiled tiredly.
"But you shouldn't push yourself that hard. Spend more time with friends, at least."
At the word "friends," Hermione sort of deflated.
"Something happen?"
"No, not really..."
"Ron still thinks your cat ate his rat? Still hasn't turned up?"
"No," my sister shook her head, letting out a tired breath. "It vanished on the train and never appeared again."
"All right. What about Potter? You two talk, don't you?"
Hermione deflated even more, but a moment later she straightened her back and looked at me proudly, with confidence.
"He got a broom. The most expensive one, can you imagine? Anonymous. I thought Sirius Black might have arranged it, enchanting the broom so Harry would die while flying it. So Professor McGonagall took it for examination."
"Hm... logical. Though I'd enchant it with some lethal curse that triggers the moment you touch it."
"That's not smart," Hermione shook her head. "Someone else might touch it..."
"And?"
"What do you mean, 'and'?" she protested, quietly because we were in the library and Madam Pince's temperament had long since become a byword. "Someone else touches it and dies, and the broom never reaches Harry because of that."
"Also logical. But there are delayed curses too, I've read about that. One more, one less. I doubt Black, with at least twelve lives on his conscience, and a family with a pretty specific reputation, would consider it some huge loss or difference."
"Family? Do you know something about the Blacks?" Hermione leaned forward slightly.
"A fair bit."
"But how?"
"I've been reading and gathering information for quite a while about any families that are even somewhat significant in magical Britain, and the isles in general. The Blacks are considered a fairly Dark family, the Most Ancient and Noble. Not that long ago the family had a lot of witches and wizards, almost the most numerous. But as of today only a few members are alive. Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks, Sirius Black, that's one generation. Last year there was Lucretia Prewett's funeral, and there was a whole article about it in the Daily Prophet, gossiping about yet another dying family line. And the year before that, Arcturus Black died, he wasn't found right away, and there is very little information."
"Hm... I haven't seen those names."
"You read textbooks, and I spent a lot of time on the world around me. By the way, Cedrella Weasley is still alive, the grandmother of the current Weasley generation. So they're relatives in a way. Though the Blacks are related to a lot of families one way or another, and have tied many of them to each other."
"Really? Like who?" Hermione looked genuinely interested, though to be fair, my sister never refused any knowledge.
"Hm... Bulstrode, Burke, Crabbe, Crouch, Flint, Gaunt, Lestrange, Longbottom, Macmillan, Malfoy, Potter, Prewett, Rosier, Weasley, Yaxley... those are the families where at least someone is still alive right now."
"Incredible..." Hermione stared at me with sincere surprise. "You learned more about the social side of the wizarding world in half a year than I did in two and a half."
"You focus purely on magic, if I understand right."
"And history. Though lately I have some doubts about how reliable the information in books is."
"That's good. When you doubt, your brain works better, comparing information from different sources."
Hermione leaned back in her chair, sweeping a tired look over the barricades of books on the table.
"Do you need help with something?"
"Help? No, Hermione. Maybe later, in the summer, with Arithmancy. I was going to study it on my own. The textbooks are pretty good, clear, and without any 'water.'"
"Ugh... that's true. If only they were all like that. I mean the textbooks."
After talking, we each went back to our work. At night the library was lit by a soft, dim yellow light from the lamps, creating a cozy atmosphere for reading and working with books. So we did exactly that, but the silence did not last even half a minute.
"Hector."
"Yeah?" I lifted my eyes from the book to Hermione.
"You were talking about wizarding families. What about the Greengrasses?"
"You want to know," I smirked slightly, "whether I have selfish motives for talking to Daphne?"
"No, of course not. I'm just curious..."
I set the book aside, propped my head on my hand, and started recalling scattered facts about that family.
"Like the Blacks, they're considered Most Ancient and Noble. Their roots are somewhere on the continent, and they came here, like some others, including the Malfoys, as part of the magical side of William the Bastard's conquest. By the way, thanks specifically to the support of three wizards from the Greengrass family, who had a different surname back then, the Battle of Hastings went so successfully. Malfoy distinguished himself too, organizing logistics on foreign lands."
"I never thought wizards took such an active part in ordinary people's lives."
"That's what it says in various books, articles, and historical records," I spread my hands. "I think a lot was cut out once the Statute of Secrecy came in. And don't be naive, the governments of Muggle and magical countries know about each other perfectly well and cooperate. And cutting anything extra out of chronicles is easy. Write whatever you want, and in a hundred years there won't be witnesses left, there will be only one truth, the one written in the 'right' books."
"And that's interesting," Hermione set her books aside too, looking at me. "Anything else interesting known about them?"
"The Greengrasses, like the Malfoys, and the Blacks, are among the richest. They're on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. Their business interests are fairly broad and mostly tied to importing various things and setting up local production of different analogues through so-called reverse engineering."
"Meaning?"
"What can you do," I shrugged. "If the records are to be believed, magical Britain is very conservative and because of that lags behind other countries in creating magical artifacts and devices meant to ease or improve different areas of life, production, and everyday living. On the other hand, we're strong in direct wand magic, and our witches and wizards, on average, are far more universal and self-sufficient."
Outside the window beside us, the wind began to howl, just barely audible. The weather had decided to worsen by night, and that was not great.
"And?" Hermione drew it out, hungry for more.
"And nothing. Daphne and I are just colleagues. She's just a normal girl."
"Ahem." From behind us, around the turn between the shelves, came a very pointed cough that drew our attention.
Turning toward the sound, I saw Daphne stepping out with a book hugged to her chest, wearing her usual mask of cold indifference. I'd noticed the presence of someone nearby a while ago, but the feeling was familiar, and our conversation was not exactly secret, so I hadn't put up anti-eavesdropping charms.
"Granger," she nodded.
"Greengrass."
Hermione rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, showing exactly what she thought of the way we addressed each other. Daphne stepped closer.
"I don't want a minor misunderstanding to affect the quality of our joint work in Potions."
"Good start," I nodded with a smile and slid an empty chair toward her, but Daphne shook her head.