A crack and Mippy was there at her hip.

"Mippy brings Miss tea and biscuits. What does Miss want for tea?" Mippy twirled her ear around her waxy finger, in a way Dobby used to.

Hermione smiled in spite of herself. "Milk and honey please."

"Does Miss want three honey spoons?" Mippy's eyes blinked, lashes bouncing.

"Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, Mippy." Hermione turned back to the shelf.

"Mippy knows how to make that. That is how Master Draco takes tea too!"

Hermione's fingers slipped on the book she was replacing.

Fuck.

"Is it? How strange."

She felt Narcissa's eyes on the back of her neck. And she wished a book would just open and swallow her.

"Mippy," Narcissa's voice chimed, "bring biscuits and more jam tarts for Miss Granger." And then in a theatrical whisper: "Not the poisoned ones."

Hermione blushed as the little elf shrieked and babbled, "Poisoned? Missus? Poisoned?"

"Shall I leave you to browse?" Narcissa asked.

Leave her? In freedom?

"I would like that very much. If you'll allow it."

"Miss Granger, I've already told you," she said kindly. "You are free to move through the Manor."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please, dear, you may call me Narcissa."

Hermione watched Narcissa Malfoy sweep to the library doors, face tingling with surprise.

"Er, you may call me Hermione. If you like."

Narcissa smiled, a gentle quirk of her lips. The doors shut behind her with a click.

She stood in the center of the lower section and spun in slow circles for several minutes, waiting for something to jump out at her. Waiting for the books to rebel at her presence and begin a nightmare crawl towards her to eat the Mudblood alive.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of books, of resourcefulness, usefulness.

Narcissa made it sound like she could return here again, but still Hermione wanted to zoom through the stacks, and bleed the Malfoy library dry of information.

There was a catalogue in the corner of the room where one could ask for a subject or a title and the books would organize themselves, either by guiding you with fairy lights or bringing the books directly to you. Hogwarts had a similar system but Pince disabled it years ago when she realized students were using it to smack each other in the head with a well-timed request for a zooming book.

She steered clear of the catalogue, not wanting any traces left of what she was researching.

Before she could tumble into the stacks towards the Dark Arts, she found a shelf that contained only seven books, organized together in the center. Red spines glinted at her, and she reached forward, pulling the first to her.

Undesirable No. 1

by Lance Gainsworth

She gasped. She turned the other books to her and found the rest of her favorite modern magical book series. The red spines were from the collector's edition. She ran her fingers down the first, and pulled the cover open. There, on the first page, was a personal note.