Visit to the library

|September 4, 1991| Hogwarts|

 Hmm, my defenses are still not quite up to par. At the same time, it's difficult to know how well a defense can hold without someone to attack it.

 At the end of the Potions class, I waited for my brother outside the classroom, letting our little group of Slytherins depart. 

"There you are, my dear brother. I hope you had a good morning." 

I could see as my brother approached that his red-haired friend still followed him from behind, making faces at me. No need to be a genius to understand his prejudice against Slytherins; well, where there's smoke, there's fire, and the lesson that even a Gryffindor can be the worst scoundrel wouldn't want to waste my time.

 "With a class like that at the beginning of the morning, we could have done better," Harry muttered these words in his throat, showing his annoyance. 

"Hehe, you'll get used to it, little brother. We just have a generational resentment, nothing too serious. But you should have known those answers. You're not as brilliant as me, but I know your brain is well above average." 

"Again, why am I the little brother, and what do you mean by generational resentment?"

 "We'll talk about it later. Would you like to spend time with me at the library on weekends, so that things like today don't happen again, and we see each other more often outside of meals?"

 "Ok, that works for me."

 "Great, because there's no way my little brother will become one of those stupid wizards who can only cast one spell correctly and spam it repeatedly. Great, you'll see, I'm going to teach you so much about subjects that you'll dream about them, like every good knowledge seeker should. I'm going to teach you the joy of learning."

 My brother's face turns pale, and he starts sweating. It must be due to his difficult living conditions over the years. 

When the year ends, I'll go pay a visit to my dear aunt.

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It took me four days of waiting to finally arrive at the famous Holy Grail of every wizard. Four days to drool over the mountain of knowledge that awaited me.

 I didn't go there with Harry because I wanted to savor the moment we spent together, something I couldn't do if I had come with him here. 

The famous library of Hogwarts, renowned for its vast number of books of all kinds linked to magic, the Alexandria Library of wizards.

 I took my first step, always accompanied by the sound of my cane, and felt its grandeur. The noise of papers moving, the ancient smell of ink and wood, the floating breath of young wizards in search of knowledge. All my senses were shouting that I was at home.

 As I advanced through the shelves, I naturally made myself noticed through the silence, the rustling of the rubbing leaves, the clacking sound of the cane resonating, calling the attention of more than one.

 Especially the guardian of the place. "Young man, please make as little noise as possible in the library." 

A rather slim woman, well-dressed, with a vulture-like head, a parchment-like face, hollow cheeks, and a hooked nose. The fact that she complained about the noise even before knowing what the origin was said a lot about her character. 

But once again, it's better to treat such people with a smile and teach them humility. For that, I have the best weapon. 

"Please forgive me, madam...?"

 "Irma Pince, Librarian and Guardian of the Books of Hogwarts," she seemed very proud of that, all the better. 

"Madam Pince, as you can see, I have unfortunately been rendered unable to see the beauty of the world and my way. So, it is impossible for me not to make noise when moving unless you want me to hit a shelf and risk damaging the books in the process. It would be a shame if such a thing happened, but even more so that a Hogwarts student does not have access to his knowledge."

 Faced with my comment and even if my presence bothered her, she could do nothing about it. Even the most vicious goblin knows not to strike a handicapped person in public.

 "While you are here, dear guardian of the books, could you indicate the section of forgotten tomes?" With her grumpy air, she pointed me in the direction. 

In front of me, in a part away from the others in a corner, was a section of books worn by time but still in one piece. 

This section was not as large as the others, but it would take me a good half-year to memorize everything and even more to understand.

 I sighed in the face of the immensity that time was. There was too much to search for and too little time to devote to it. 

That's why one of my main branches of research in magic will be a new field.

 Techno-magic, a mixture of Muggle technological advances with the infinite possibilities of magic. I'm not talking about things like a flying car, but for example, coding the world itself with magic, creating golems with AI, discovering more about DNA in the magical world. In short, a multitude of possibilities.

 But of course, a genius like me cannot focus on just one field, and now, another one will open up before me. 

I took a book that was in a language mixing Old Norse and Ancient Greek that, of course, I could read and went to choose a table. 

The forgotten tomes were so named because the majority of wizards no longer learn dead languages but only the pronunciation of a few determined spells, most just learning the most popular dead language, Latin, and only a handful learning more.

 My dear mother expressed her frustration with that, and it's a blockade in her research that she thought about in her journal by simply changing the language every day. 

Having learned every possible language in the magical library of the manor, I was in a superior position to most. 

And let's face it, the Hogwarts Library lacks magic beyond the protection on the books. Where is the introduction of new books read by students? Where is the automatic search for the books we want? It's a shame that my library is better than the Holy Grail!

 Anyway, I digress again after I found a table in the rather empty first-year corner, I looked at my book, and in front of me was a leather-bound book, its pages yellowed by time but not damaged. 

It smelled of the forest, blood, and wax. I took it because its name interested me, <Ritual of Link for Magical Totemic Animal.>

 As its name indicated, it was a Ritual book, rescued from a witch hunt in Salem-like fashion by a stupid policy.

 I hoped to find something to enhance Skotádi, my owl, and establish a magical link with her.

 And so, I spent the whole afternoon here at the library.

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After spending hours on this fascinating marvel, I was approached by someone mistaking me for my brother.

"Hey, Harry, you've come here to learn more about Quidditch too. I must say you're really reckless. Why did you have to react to Malfoy's provocation? Imagine if you fell or, worse, we would lose points."

I see that my brother is really a daredevil who can't be taken eyes off for a second, but the situation is amusing.

"I expected this to happen someday, thanks to you I have the honor of saying this phrase. I believe you've mistaken me for the wrong twin, Miss Granger, I believe."

Upon hearing my response, she observed me more closely and noticed the Slytherin emblem on my wizard robe. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, I thought you were Harry. And yes, that's my name, I'm Hermione Granger, uh..."

"Lilian Potter at your service. So, causing trouble during Quidditch class, I apologize on his behalf."

Embarrassed by my politeness, she quickly replied, "No, nothing like that, Lilian. It's just that he used the broom when we weren't allowed, under Malfoy's mockery about his incompetence on a broom. But there's nothing to forgive."

"Oh, so this spoiled rich boy mocked my brother for not knowing how to fly. It seems to me the funniest thing I've heard." Tears couldn't help but fall from my eyes, and Madame Pince threatened to kill me with her eyes.

"What's so funny about that?" asked the confused young Gryffindor.

"You see, if I took more after my mother for her intelligence and magical talent, my brother took more after our father, and considering that, there's no way he's bad at flying with the blood of a Quidditch House Cup champion pair. Also, even as a baby, he knew how to fly on a broom."

"Quidditch House Cup champion!?" Hermione seemed surprised by that.

"Yes. Speaking of my mother, you know, you resemble her in many ways. She was also a Muggle-born witch with an insatiable thirst for knowledge. She ended up being the most talented witch of her years for her qualities. But unlike you, she was less strict about the rules, which earned her the friendship and support of many, something not your strong suit from what I've heard."

Lowering her head in sadness after being proud to be compared to my talented mother, she murmured, "I don't understand why no one likes to be with me. I just follow the rules and help others be better people; there's nothing wrong with that."

"Humans, inherently dissatisfied, reveal their intrinsic paradox when faced with rules. Subjecting someone to excess can also extinguish the momentum of their individual freedom, thus limiting personal growth and fulfillment, generating discontent arising from the feeling of hindrance to their potential. But following them too much is sometimes stifling creativity, restraining innovation, and restricting the path to unexplored horizons." Looking at her reaction to my words, I continued.

"You see, Hermione, especially for us children, losing that freedom is losing who we are. I'm not saying it's wrong to submit to the rules, but being too inflexible makes you just another flavorless, emotionless person in the crowd. For example, in all the courses we've had, you only give textbook definitions. Have you ever stopped for a second to think about why it's like that and if it can be improved? Think about it."

Leaving my little student's head to ponder, I thought it was time for me to leave.

As I stood up, I finally heard her. "If I decrease reminding others how they behaved, do you think I can become friends with them?" She asked this on the verge of tears.

I had to answer, "Of course, if you change that, I would even want to be friends with my brother, and secretly with me. Slytherin and Gryffindor don't get along well; it's better to keep it discreet."

Having finished my first visit to the library, I headed back to my room.