The Gloriana Set

Codex Runicus

Hermione didn't say anything, just stood looking at him. When she'd made her List of Things to Look Forward To that morning, No. 6 certainly wasn't "secretly meeting up with Draco Malfoy in an abandoned classroom." Could the man even behave like a human being for more than five minutes?

He was ignoring her now, his attention back on the charms book, the only sound in the room the rattling of the windows and the turning of Malfoy's pages. His hair shone like another lamp in the room.

She walked over to the desk to face him. "Well?"

Grey eyes flickered up from the page. Sitting on a desk he was still taller than she. "Patience, Granger."

"I don't have all night. There's a curfew, you know."

Malfoy snickered and turned another page.

She looked around the room. She couldn't simply take a table in front of him—too much like he was the teacher and she the pupil—so she found a table on the other side of the room and spread out her Arithmancy homework. Two could play at that game.

A full half-hour passed that way, with Hermione pretending to do Arithmancy and Malfoy pretending to read about charms, until Malfoy finally put his book down and uncrossed his legs.

"This is ridiculous, Granger. For Merlin's sake, get over here."

"This is a very nice table. There's no reason to move."

"No?" Malfoy pulled a square bundle out of his bag, wrapped in white cloth. He placed it on the desk, then lay beside it another bundle of the same size, but more rounded. "I think you have two reasons to come here, Granger."

Nuts. He had her. Hermione gave a long-suffering sigh and stood, picking up her runes essay and a muggle notebook and pen. Malfoy watched her walk toward him, eyes raking her up and down, a small smile on his lips. She felt herself flush.

Reaching the desk, she touched the square bundle, glancing at him for permission. These artifacts were his, after all, no matter how ill-gotten. He nodded, and she set down her things and unwrapped the white cloth.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as the manuscript emerged. It was illuminated, with moving figures and shifting runes. "The Codex Runicus," she breathed. "From the 1300s."

"The magical Codex Runicus," Malfoy corrected. "One of five copies in existence."

"How did you ever get this?"

He shrugged. "Nobody knows. Passed down over the centuries."

He probably wouldn't tell her anyway, Hermione thought, running a hand over the vellum. How amazing to be part of magical history in such a way. What would it be like to born into such a family, practically magical royalty, and then ...

"What is it? What are you thinking?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

"You Malfoys," she answered absently, her eyes devouring the manuscript on the desk. "So much magical history, riches, ancient artifacts. And yet you hoard your legacies like dragons, breathing flames, seeing nothing but enemies around you, destroying your reputation and your souls. Such a waste."

Malfoy's face turned white, his hands curled into fists, but Hermione didn't notice. Her eyes were on the Codex as she followed her train of thought.

"Go on," he said in a ragged whisper. "What are you thinking now?"

"The future, Draco. What you could do with such a legacy."

"My legacy is nothing but evil," he said. "Our hands are bloody, our very name is black."