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Title: Human History
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Pairings: Irma Pince/Wilhelmina Hooch, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: The library is a sacred place because of its human history. It’s the memories that are the important thing.
Author's Notes: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hogwarts365's Prompt 30.
She’s the great pretender. She wears her heart like a crown and doesn’t bow under the weight of it, even when she sifts through the charred wreckage of the library she dedicated herself to. She attends dinner in the Great Hall at eight every night, lets herself be seen by the staff and students – a pillar of strength in a time of rebuilding. She is a constant. She is a librarian.
She never lets anyone see her cry.
She keeps her grief over Wilhelmina to the quarters they shared and preserves her memory in carefully collected photos, in diaries (Mina was a firm believer in writing things down), and in old sets of robes decorated with the crest of the Holyhead Harpies.
It’s the memories that are the important thing. How many people could she shock into silence if she admitted it isn’t about the books? Miss Granger, certainly – such a dear, coming in to help almost as often as the House Elves – Minerva, Horace…everyone, in fact, who has stepped through the doors of Hogwarts in the course of Irma’s career (except Mina, of course, because she always looked deeper).
She’ll miss the books that have been lost. Of course she will. But books can be replaced. It’s the memories. It’s the carvings left in bookcases and tables (RAB+BCJr in the window frame by the runes section, inventively scribed in Elder Futhark as if no one else could read it; LB<3PP 4EVA surrounded by hearts and stars in divination) and the shadowed alcoves that have hid furtive looks and swift, blushing kisses since time immemorial. The library is a sacred place because of its human history.
A history gutted by fire, but that sprouts anew.
She pretends not to hear when Draco Malfoy finally gives in to frustrations and pushes Harry Potter up against a table in the Defence section and kisses him breathless, knocking glasses askew and earning himself a love bite on the side of his neck that lasts for a week. Instead, she leaves them to it, and when she spots a small heart emblazoned DM+HP on that very same table, the only person she tells is a picture of Mina.
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Pairings: Irma Pince/Wilhelmina Hooch, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: The library is a sacred place because of its human history. It’s the memories that are the important thing.
Author's Notes: This was written for
hogwarts365's Prompt 30.She’s the great pretender. She wears her heart like a crown and doesn’t bow under the weight of it, even when she sifts through the charred wreckage of the library she dedicated herself to. She attends dinner in the Great Hall at eight every night, lets herself be seen by the staff and students – a pillar of strength in a time of rebuilding. She is a constant. She is a librarian.
She never lets anyone see her cry.
She keeps her grief over Wilhelmina to the quarters they shared and preserves her memory in carefully collected photos, in diaries (Mina was a firm believer in writing things down), and in old sets of robes decorated with the crest of the Holyhead Harpies.
It’s the memories that are the important thing. How many people could she shock into silence if she admitted it isn’t about the books? Miss Granger, certainly – such a dear, coming in to help almost as often as the House Elves – Minerva, Horace…everyone, in fact, who has stepped through the doors of Hogwarts in the course of Irma’s career (except Mina, of course, because she always looked deeper).
She’ll miss the books that have been lost. Of course she will. But books can be replaced. It’s the memories. It’s the carvings left in bookcases and tables (RAB+BCJr in the window frame by the runes section, inventively scribed in Elder Futhark as if no one else could read it; LB<3PP 4EVA surrounded by hearts and stars in divination) and the shadowed alcoves that have hid furtive looks and swift, blushing kisses since time immemorial. The library is a sacred place because of its human history.
A history gutted by fire, but that sprouts anew.
She pretends not to hear when Draco Malfoy finally gives in to frustrations and pushes Harry Potter up against a table in the Defence section and kisses him breathless, knocking glasses askew and earning himself a love bite on the side of his neck that lasts for a week. Instead, she leaves them to it, and when she spots a small heart emblazoned DM+HP on that very same table, the only person she tells is a picture of Mina.
