Dispersed Knowledge

The castle's atmosphere grew slightly grayer after the incident, and many people were curious about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, to the point where even McGonagall had to provide an explanation when someone interrupted her ongoing lesson.

Who else but Hermione Granger?

However, this was not the case for Barnaby. He had grown up in the castle and knew every nook, secret passage, and even that place on the seventh floor, but he had never encountered said chamber. So unless a very specific condition was required for its appearance, he didn't believe it existed.

It hadn't been found when his father had to take the blame, and he doubted it would be found now. He just hoped people wouldn't start looking for a scapegoat again.

However, a certain doubt persisted, and it was clear that "something" was responsible for what had happened according to what Sanshi smelled at the crime scene.

"It smells like an old creature, very ancient," she told him. "It's definitely at least a few hundred years old."

But even with this clue, Barnaby couldn't narrow down the number of suspects. He knew too many long-lived creatures that could petrify as a means of attack or defense in many different ways, so he needed more information.

A good example would be the Molbol he employed last year; petrification was just one of its many abilities, and precisely to avoid accidents, the tomberis had stocked up on a few gold needles.

And he had used up the last one they had.

After removing the blood from the wall with a cleaning spell, he spent the next few days preventing some disputes between the houses from escalating, as the prefects were a bit overwhelmed.

Should he suggest increasing the number of prefects in each house?

Although, when he heard that Lockhart had vanished the broken bones in Harry's arm after the defective bludger incident during the Quidditch match, he couldn't help but laugh, even though he knew it was wrong.

He had never seen such a creative way to fix broken bones!

While Harry was recovering in the infirmary after taking a sip of the bone-growing potion, Barnaby decided to take a break from all the arguments and headed to the library.

Frieren looked up from the thick book she was reading and acknowledged his arrival with a nod, before looking back down to finish reading the page of the last chapter she was on.

"I see you're entertained," Barnaby commented as he went behind the librarian's desk and sat beside her with familiarity.

The title of the 1754 book Frieren was holding was: The Discussion on Creativity Brought by Enchanted Brushes, Can It Still Be Called Genuine Art?

"Many books in this library are outdated or have erroneous conclusions about magic," Frieren said as she placed a bookmark in the page and carefully closed the old book. "Still, there are many interesting ideas that make me think about aspects of magic I hadn't considered before. It's a shame I can only stay this year as a substitute before going back to see how my own student is doing, otherwise, I could dedicate myself to compiling the correct information and separating it from the erroneous to make new books. The amount of space needed on the shelves would be greatly reduced as the children don't give me too much work, and I have everything I need covered."

Barnaby remained silent as he couldn't deny her statement; he had also seen that problem while studying, and it had been confusing at the time.

Just in the Potions section, there were no fewer than five books from different eras explaining how to make the same potion with different ingredients. Although the resulting potion was the same, the potency, duration of effect, and other details were completely different.

Sometimes the same potion even had different names, which made everything even more confusing.

Frieren's idea is something the magical world has needed for centuries!

To take all the books and compile the information, discarding what was incorrect or false in favor of what had been verified, improved, or updated, resulting in complete and highly detailed editions that would raise the educational level of the magical world by at least three levels.

The closest thing currently (and the only real example he had found) was Newt Scamander's book, which continued to release more complete and detailed versions as he made more discoveries of creatures.

Thanks to his efforts, magizoology had taken a leap of no less than forty years and had become a worldwide reference book.

He had several signed copies of each new version.

But apart from Newt… no one else seemed willing to take on such a titanic and noble task.

Instead, they preferred to compile a lot of general information (usually public knowledge) and release it as a new avant-garde book without bothering to check if its content was similar to others or even contradicted them. Sometimes they were even parts copied from different books, printed in a single book as a new one.

That's why there were so many books on so many topics; an uninformed person simply wouldn't know where to start their introduction to a new branch of knowledge properly without a guide.

Not to mention those wizards and witches who want to keep valuable knowledge just for themselves, although that part was at least understandable…

In the Muggle equivalent, it was as if someone one day wanted to learn about science and three people stepped forward to recommend their books because they were "the most suitable."

The first talked about how everything was composed and interconnected by the four elements, everything undergoing constant transformation.

The second showed the modern periodic table, its theory, and the functioning of the universe.

The third said that their god made everything, you had to do what he said, you had to give him money every week, and if you didn't believe it, you'd go to hell.

It was simply complete chaos!

"Have you had any complications with the students since you arrived that you need help with?" Barnaby changed the subject to avoid going crazy, even having been raised on the magical side of the world, there were still behaviors that left him speechless or exasperated.

"Just small tantrums here and there, with some curiosity-driven questions about me," Frieren smoothed her slightly wrinkled robe as she replied. "My relationship with you, why I have pointed ears, and things like that. It reminded me of the first times I saw human children; they all surrounded me with curious eyes," she smiled slightly as her gaze turned nostalgic.

There were also some students who didn't take her seriously or were unhappy with the new library rules, but after she sent them flying out of the library, they behaved obediently.

And although that second-year Gryffindor girl was a bit irritating and stubborn…

There was no need to mention something so small, right?

"Oh, by the way, a first-year Ravenclaw student was looking for you," Frieren remembered.