Arcane thievery

That night. He took his prize.

Deacon stayed awake in his room under his bedsheets, releasing loud snoring sounds to perfectly indicate to his dormmates that he was deeply sleeping. A masterful deception that would have worked... If his dormmates were normal, respectful individuals.

"Flipendo!"

With a single shout from the Italian boy's wand, Deacon's body was launched towards the wall. Hard. 

The pain was not so excruciating but it was annoying nonetheless.

"Goddamnit couldn't you see that I was sleeping?"

"Sleeping? Merlin's beard, I didn't know rumbling like a lowly boar was the sound of you sleeping"

The feisty Italian retorted with a grimace on his face. It was clear that he considered Deacon scum deep in his heart.

"Don't sleep in this room tonight you mud blood or I'm going to hang you by the tongue, I swear to Merlin's sweaty knickers!"

And with that, Deacon was out. Having been thrown out of his room he obviously couldn't stay in the Slytherin dorms tonight, right?

And if he was caught by the teachers he could excuse himself as a poor victim of bullying!

The library itself had closed down already, and there were barely any students in the common room as it was indeed pretty late at night. Meaning he could enter the library without much difficulty.

Of course, he had to worry about Filch and his cat but those were only minor obstacles. In truth, the only obstacle was getting through the library doors without breaking the lock with magic. He had to break Madam Pince's magical lock, with non-magical tools. Truly a difficult endeavor.

But he had help.

"As you move through the halls unnoticed, a little ball of fur remains perched on a suit of armor, surveying the halls. Being caught would mean detention and a lost opportunity. Hide or attack, you have two choices. Do not hesitate"

The voice in his head was always a bit more observant than he was, it narrated his current actions and his life but what was most peculiar was that it described things always a little into the future. He darted into a pile of buckets next to a broom closet.

The voice's deductions were always true, and always reliable as he saw Ms. Norris, a cat with a dust-colored fluffy coat and the eyes of a vulture, staring directly at the spot he was a mere moment ago. He would have certainly been caught if the caught laid its eyes on him.

Hidden in the pile of dusted, rusty buckets. Deacon was scared but he knew he would be alright, there was nothing to support this feeling. But he was certain he would be okay, he had quite a lot of faith in himself.

"The observant kitten's beady eyes wander over the entirety of the hall. It knows something is not quite right but it shrugs off its intuition that has failed it many times in the past. You are in the clear. The library is a mere twenty paces away. Do not rush"

As always the voice was correct, the library was right in his reach. The vigilant Ms. Norris was turning away. If he stayed silent and slowly stepped he would be in the clear.

His steps light, he stuck close to the wall, the library right before him. Now was the time, he could not hesitate. In his hand was a quill with its tip cut into a serrated stick, the key of the library had a magic code imprinted on it but he only had what was a muggle version of the key. Even if he picked the lock he wouldn't be able to open it as the magic would keep the lock from turning.

His solution? A levitation charm that was overpowered with magic and precisely aimed at the core of the lock would fill it with too much magic to bear and so the locking mechanism would be temporarily compromised. The library held the largest amount of knowledge in the entirety of the wizarding world and it was no doubt that if someone broke in and burnt the library down there would be a large setback in terms of magic advancement.

How did he figure out the solution? He didn't.

It was the voice, it always was the voice. Maybe this was the effect of the title that the system granted him as a farewell gift. "Child of Permanence" sounds quite ominous and he had no idea if it even did anything.

"With a flick of your wand and a quick insertion of your tool. You're in. Power is just a walk away from here and no obstacle is obscuring your endless ambition."

It was time.

Books littered his surroundings. Discarded notes lay on the floor like leaves during the fall, the voice's hypnotizing tone led him to the forbidden section. The very place where the accursed bastard with no nose found a paved path to immortality. If a place like this contained such magic, it may contain even more.

His goal was mental magics that could not be found in the regular section of the library but there was almost certainly room for improvement concerning his abilities.

He strode past the regular section of the library which was filled with children's stories and academic papers. His footsteps made no sound against the creaky wooden boards that seemed to make such noises on their own.

Deacon's instincts screamed at him to turn away from the forbidden section. Since it was forbidden then there must be a good reason for It, right? Would the punishment for entering here be worth it?

The books around him were silently chanting their seductive hymns, begging him to open them and return their knowledge to the world they had been forbidden from entering.

The books were not evil in their nature, no knowledge is evil, only the way it is used.

Actually no, torture is pretty evil knowledge, right?

His eyes were set on the prize. He held in his hands two books, on the spine of the first the title read "Magical Minds Think Alike" Its cover was weathered and torn, and its contents were written in a dialect a tad different from the English he was used to. But it was the most modern adaptation, released 50 years ago, and banned the same year its production began.

The second book, however... was a lot more different than the others he saw. Its title read "Bodily Transfiguration, The Poor Man's Animagus", Its cover was brand new, even though its publication dates showed it to be decades old. It was a modern adaptation of another book, a book that had been removed due to the fact it caused the end of many Chinese kingdoms and towns.

There was a reason that whenever any certain person declared themselves as emperors of China there would be many millions of deaths. This book was responsible for it.

"In your hands lay the weapons of which you will use and conquer with. In your hands lay the magical equivalent of a 5 step guide to making the black plague. You are now responsible for what happens next."

In moments he saw a silhouette standing by the entrance of the forbidden section. Old grey hairs crowded his face and a caring face appeared before him.

"Now what might a first-year Slytherin student be doing in the forbidden section at this time of night?"

It was the headmaster of the school. Albus "wooly socks" Dumbledore. Shit.