The library was silent, Madam Pince had kicked everyone out ten minutes before curfew, before making her rounds to ensure no stragglers were left. Harry sat in the very back corner, beside a medium window pane, watching as the lights were extinguished; it always confused him as to why the Wizarding world hadn't advanced as far as the Muggles had. But nonetheless, Harry waited until it was dark and the door had been locked before removing his cloak.

Harry loved coming to the library after curfew, just to be totally alone. He sat on the sill of the largest window and watched as the storm raged on outside. The teen often felt like the harshness of the winter storms were like small battles being raged between nature and the earth, much like the battles between himself and Voldemort. Hail storms were both beautiful and painful, but then most things worth looking at were.

A faint tinkling sound caught Harry's attention, pulling it back to the storm outside. Several pieces of hail were bouncing off the castle and glass windows as the wind whipped them around. Harry was glad to be in the emptiness of the library; the books wouldn't tell anyone he'd been spending a number of nights there just thinking about what had happened every summer. It was almost like his own private getaway, and the books were rather interesting when he got tired of watching the weather or contemplating his thoughts.

He was sure Ron would be completely floored to know Harry enjoyed reading or watching nature. The teen wasn't known to be book smart after all. But even now, just watching the hail being whipped around made Harry feel more welcomed in his solitude than being up in Gryffindor tower. Hermione would have just kept picking at him. She never knew how to leave him to his thoughts, which was why he often went to the library. Harry needed his own space, and the Library after curfew was the best place. Plus, he didn't have to fight over books.

Browsing the isles, Harry wanted something that would help him get stronger in order to defeat Voldemort. Before he was able to grab anything, he heard the door opening. He silently hurried to his cloak, throwing it over himself as he stood beside the window once more. The only person that would be in the library at this hour was either a Prefect or a Professor; neither was a good option, considering that they could hand out detentions.

"If anyone is hiding in here, show yourself. I do not have time to waste searching for you," a snide voice called, as it moved around the stacks of books.

Harry's heart stopped momentarily before beginning to hammer away. He was sure Professor Snape could hear it. Holding his breath, he remained as still as he could. There was no way he could be caught by the Potions Master. Who knew what sort of torturous detentions that man would stick him with? Plus, there would be the tirade about how he was just like his father, always breaking the rules. Not that Harry thought it would matter at this point, as Dumbledore hadn't spoken a word to him all term or even before that.

Once the door shut again, Harry released the breath he'd been holding before moving to peer out into the aisle. It wouldn't do for him to take off the cloak only for the Professor to be right around the corner. Several books fluttered and shook on the shelves within his proximity, as if calling for him to pick them up. The teen breathed another sigh of relief when the Professor did not pop up out of nowhere.

Taking the opportunity, Harry collected several large tomes on Defensive magic and went back to his nook, only to halt in shock. Professor Snape was standing beside his window, seeming to be watching the storm outside. He wasn't sure what to do other than be thankful he still had his cloak on. Harry took the opportunity to watch the usually dour man, who was staring at the window in confusion.

"How odd," Snape muttered. "What a dreadful night."

Harry was shocked, having not expected for his quiet night of reading and thinking to be interrupted by someone who hated him. It only lasted a few more minutes before Snape turned and left, allowing Harry to retake his favorite spot on the window sill. He placed the books off to the side, listening to the faint thunk as the doors creaked shut. He pulled off his cloak, stowing it beside him in case someone else came in.

The library was peaceful and still, as Harry read his chosen books, occasionally stopping to watch the hail storm progress or the wind whip up little snow flurries. The ritual of going down to the library would become a regular practice, just so he could get some time to himself and escape the suffocating togetherness that Gryffindor Tower supplied. With so much going on and the fact that he had no privacy, something so simple as time alone was precious to the teen.

Information soaked into Harry as he read and read, going back and forth for more books. His periodic checking of the storm still happened. He was allowing his mind to wander and mull over the contents of the library before returning to reading. Harry immersed himself in the silent ambiance and solitude, and it wasn't until hours later that he put the books back in their place.

Harry yawned as he said goodbye to his nook in the library. Perhaps he'd be able to come back in a few hours, without his friends. It might be different to experience it in the daylight.