'A fat lot of nothing,' said Ron from behind the books, 'unless you're really interested in Blood Rituals of the Eleventh Century, which I, for one, am not. You?'
'Nothing useful.' She turned her gaze to Lupin as the door shut behind him, and said, 'Where's Sirius?'
'Hello to you, too,' said Lupin, coming over to glance at the stack of books on the desk. 'He's getting Harry.'
'Sorry, Professor,' said Hermione, with a faint smile. 'And sorry about messing up the library-' she made a sweeping gesture with one hand, indicating the mess she and Ron had made, and nearly knocked a book off the desk as she did so.
Lupin caught it in one hand. 'Careful,' he said. 'That's the book I've been trying to translate.'
Hermione glanced down at it, and an odd look crossed her face. 'Let me see it,' she said.
Wordlessly, Lupin handed it to her. She opened it, glanced at one page, and handed it back to him. 'When Harry gets here,' she said, 'show it to him.'
Lupin looked blank. 'Show it to Harry?'
Ron snorted. 'Just do it,' he said. 'Hermione's got that look she gets when she knows something. Best go along with it.'
'I do not get a look,' said Hermione, sulkily.
'Do too,' said Ron, and this illuminating exchange might have continued indefinitely if the door to the Library had not opened at that moment, admitting Sirius and with him, Harry.
Hermione glanced surreptitiously at Harry over the top over her book. I can't believe I've been reduced to this, she thought gloomily, sneaking glances at my own boyfriend and hoping he doesn't notice.
He looked, as Ron had said he was, perfectly healthy, if tired: he was a little pale, and looked rumpled, as if from sleep. He gave a general nod in the direction of Hermione, Ron, and Lupin, and went back to staring at the window.
'Sirius,' said Ron, putting down the book he'd been reading. 'What happened with the demon?'
'It's in the dungeon, in stasis in one of the cells,' said Sirius. 'It's surrounded by wards.' He glanced at Lupin. 'That should hold it until Dumbledore gets here.'
'What do you think it wanted?' said Ron.
It was Harry who answered. 'That bloody sword of Malfoy's,' he said. 'I'm fairly sure that's what it wanted.'
Sirius glanced at him. 'How do you know?'
Harry sighed, and launched into the story of the demon's initial visitation. When he had finished, Lupin and Sirius exchanged dark looks. 'I told Draco it was evil,' said Lupin, unhappily, 'I told him it was a possessed object. Why did he feel that he had to have it?'
Ron snorted. 'Telling Malfoy that something is evil is like telling Dudley something's made out of toffee. It brings out this whole primal 'must have that' side of him.' He caught Hermione's glare, and glared back. 'You didn't see him when Harry was telling him he shouldn't bring it,' he said. 'It was scary.'
Lupin glanced over at Harry. 'You told him not to bring it and he got…scary?' he said.
Harry looked as if he wanted to squirm. 'There was a certain scare factor,' he admitted. 'But he mostly just seemed to think it was very powerful, and necessary.' He turned to Lupin. 'Do you think it wanted the sword?'
'Hard to say,' said Lupin. 'Demons are strange creatures, devoted to sowing discord. But they rarely attack or kill humans. They are far more given to driving rigged bargains. They are greedy, rather than dangerous.'
Ron raised an eyebrow. 'Driving bargains, eh?'
Hermione looked over at him. 'What?'
Ron was tapping his fingers on the desk. 'Well, if anyone seems likely to be the type to go around driving bargains with the forces of darkness…'
'Driving bargains in exchange for what?' snapped Hermione, in exasperation.
Ron looked at her. So did Sirius, Lupin, and even Harry, although he looked just as quickly away.
'Well,' said Ron, voicing what they were perhaps all thinking, 'You.
He's got you in love with him now. Isn't that what he always wanted?'
After leaving Harry, Narcissa considered going to look for Sirius —
she wanted to see him — but it seemed to her that he had enough to contend with at the moment. The house is full of children, she thought, turning to go downstairs. It was a pleasant irony in a way, since she had always wanted more children after Draco, but Lucius had made that, like so many other things, impossible. The house is full of children, she thought again, Except my own.
She was worried about Draco. Not panicked, since she knew well enough that he could take care of himself. He always had. But worried. Of course, it was a habit of his to go off by himself when something bothered him. It was what was bothering him that was worrying her.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she turned right and walked through the drawing room into a smaller room beyond it. This was a room that had always been one of her favorites — it was much smaller than most of the rooms in the Mansion, and had an enormous fireplace. The walls were lined with bookshelves -
ordinary books, not the enchanted ones that made up the bulk of Lucius' library. There were several overstuffed armchairs scattered around the room, looking worn, but very comfortable. Narcissa crossed the room to a bookshelf, took down a faded blue album, and sat down in a chair opposite the fireplace. She opened the album, but it was too dim to see, so she reached for her wand and pointed it at the empty grate.
'Incendio!' she murmured.
Immediately cheerful red-orange flames burst into life, warming the room and illuminating it. It was now light enough for Narcissa to see that she was not, in fact, alone in the room. Ginny Weasley was curled up along
