Draco has a Height Complex

                                    

                                          
Nico di Angelo. Sounded like a name for an Italian taco, but I didn't  say that out loud. I figured that would annoy him more than he already  had been which wasn't really what I wanted. But my gut was yelling,  practically screaming itself hoarse, like it was trying to tell me  something about this boy. I couldn't put a finger on it.
"Well, I'm Hermione Granger," said Hermione. "It's nice to meet you, Nico."
She waited as the library filled with silence again before nudging Ron in the stomach.
He coughed, clearing his throat and mumbling, "Ron Weasley," with a bucketload of reluctance.
Nico nodded, face mostly blank. "A Weasley? Should have known by the hair. Your sister looks a lot like you."
His face turned to pure revulsion. "You know Ginny?"
Nico just rolled his eyes. "Merlin's beard, I'm not going to steal her soul or anything. Sheesh."
The  kid obviously didn't get the memo that Ron hated anyone wearing  identical uniform to Draco Malfoy. Although with a face like Nico's,  even the most controlled of people could be worried he was going to eat them for breakfast. He had those kind of eyes – dark and unforgiving. Even  so, something was off about him, and quickly I realised it was his  accent. Might as well be the queen's cousin for how posh he sounded. It...  didn't suit him.
"Anyway," began Hermione, ripping the tension  like a slice of bread. "I was just talking to Nico about a book on the  origins of witchcraft and wizardry." When Ron gave her a funny look, she  just sighed. "I saw Nico holding that book, so I told him it was a good  – but farfetched – read and we struck up conversation."
Nico held  the book up for Ron and me to see. It was written in some funny  language – which I presumed would be in ancient runes, the section we  were currently standing in – as well as being older than Madam Pince's  great times-five grandshoe.
"Wassit' called?" said Ron.
"On the Origins of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Duh," said Nico.
Ron's ears turned pink with embarrassment. (Reader, praise me, for I did NOT laugh.)
Hermione tightened her grip on her own book. "Yes. All a load of codswallop if you ask me."
"A load of what now?" I asked.
"Never  mind. The book is all about theories on how witchcraft and wizardry  came to be. Ridiculous theories if you ask me. Things like we are all  descendent of gods."
Nico snorted, staring at the book with a  raised eyebrow. "Seriously? That's a bit stupid. Wizards and witches  have existed since the beginning of time. There's no such thing as gods."
"Exactly," agreed Hermione, as Nico decided to replace the book on the shelf.
I  shifted uncomfortably. Gods? It was a far cry of an idea, sure, but not  totally farfetched. I mean, didn't they have gods of magic and stuff?  It was kinda' plausible.
"Guess I'll have to find another book to  help me with my History of Magic essay..." Nico grumbled, flicking some of  his hair back. In that second, he actually reminded me of Snape. It was  a highly disturbing and traumatic moment that I wish never to speak of  again.
"If your essay is on the past, may I suggest The Magical History of Magic by Phoenix Walkelly? That has plenty of information to help you. It's in the fifth isle, down at the right by the bottom."
Ron  and I just stared at her. She was so smart she knew the location of  certain books in the library – and somehow, I wasn't surprised.
"Thanks.  See you around Hermione, Ron, Percy." And with that, Nico scuttled  away, melting into the shadows of the tall shelves that towered above  us.