"Hello, Madam Pince. I'd like to check out some books."
Madam Irma Pince was thin and elderly, with the look of an underfed vulture. She was famously short-tempered, especially toward anyone who dared mistreat her beloved books-a trait that served her well as Hogwarts' librarian.
The library was located on the second floor of the castle.
After sending Professor Flitwick back to his office and clearing the lingering scent from himself, Morin finally came here. Between teaching, grading, and finding creative ways to torture-train-his students, he hadn't had time to spare.
Now that he did, it was time to harvest Hogwarts' greatest treasure.
"Professor Morin. Oh, I know you. It's your first time here, isn't it?"
Madam Pince forced a smile onto her usually hostile face. It looked less friendly and more like she was seconds away from striking.
"Welcome. What books do you need? I can retrieve them quickly."
"I'm not sure yet," Morin replied. "I'll likely need a long time to browse. Also, since this is my first visit, could you explain the borrowing rules?"
"Standard books can be borrowed-up to fifteen at a time-for two weeks. Damage must be compensated."
She continued briskly.
"Restricted Section books can only be borrowed five at a time, also for two weeks. Some contain powerful or even evil magic. Professors may authorize students to borrow books, including restricted ones, with a signed note. You remain responsible for any damage."
"Understood," Morin nodded. "What about reading on-site?"
"Professors may browse freely. Students require a signature."
"That saves me trouble," Morin said with a smile. "I'll head straight to the Restricted Section."
Madam Pince's expression sharpened.
"Professor Morin, I must warn you. Some books there are extremely dangerous. Protective measures are strongly advised. There have been... incidents."
"Thank you for the warning," Morin said politely. "I'll be careful."
Under her guidance, he passed through the main library and reached the cordoned-off area at the back.
The Hogwarts library was enormous.
Thousands upon thousands of shelves.
Well over ten thousand books, at least.
To Morin, these weren't just books.
They were the accumulated structure of this world's magical system.
Every world's magic differed in form, but at the core, it was all the same-application of a special energy. The methods varied. Incantations, gestures, materials.
The source and result did not.
The Restricted Section lay behind a rope layered with strong protective spells, clearly meant to keep students out.
There was also the infamous Invisible Books section.
Books about invisibility. Some of them invisible themselves.
A terrible design choice.
Flourish and Blotts had once spent a fortune acquiring The Invisible Book of Invisibility-only to promptly lose it.
It reminded Morin of someone buying an "invisible cloaking device" online.
Perhaps the seller hadn't been lying after all.
In any case, that wasn't his priority.
First, the Restricted Section.
Then the rest.
As for magical backlash harming the reader?
Not worth considering.
Dangerous magic existed, but if something capable of seriously harming him was left here, that would be absurd. The Restricted Section was restricted, not reckless. Dumbledore wouldn't gamble with students' lives.
Reaching the shelves, Morin started at the top-left.
And began reading.
With a human scanning machine on-site, why borrow?
...
"Thank you. That was very productive."
Morin exited lightly, nodding to students along the way before stopping at the circulation desk.
"You're not borrowing anything?" Madam Pince asked, surprised.
"Of course I am."
Morin made a placing motion.
His hand was empty.
"Oh. The Invisible Book of Invisibility," Madam Pince said instantly. How she recognized it was unclear. "You're the second person to ever find this."
"Was the first you?" Morin asked.
"I'm the one who put it there," she replied, efficiently processing the loan.
...
Back in his office, Morin placed the invisible book on his desk.
He'd only borrowed it to avoid trouble. The content was useful, but he already knew it. Possibly better.
His gaze drifted to the shelves beside him.
Stacks of white paper filled them.
Roughly estimating...
Several hundred thousand sheets.
About a hundred per student.
Enough to last until the next generation.
"...I'll delay restocking," Morin muttered.
The students would surely be grateful.
Meanwhile.
Dumbledore's office.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is impossible. We already have two," Dumbledore said helplessly. "Why not another subject? Care of Magical Creatures?"
"If I'm allowed to eat them daily, I don't object," Grindelwald replied coldly.
"...Then never mind," Dumbledore said immediately. "Ancient Runes?"
"I know them. Boring."
"Apparition?"
"Heh."
"Muggle Studies?"
"If I can kidnap Muggles to study, I'm interested."
"I believe Professor Morin would object. As would I. Arithmancy? Divination? Alchemy?"
"Are we really doing this?" Grindelwald slammed the desk.
Fawkes, who had been dozing, burst into flames in surprise.
"Hmph. Phoenix," Grindelwald snorted. "Probably tastes good roasted."
Fawkes bristled, glaring.
"Enough, Gellert," Dumbledore sighed. "But there's no solution. Two Defense professors are already pushing it. Three won't pass the Ministry."
"Then keep it at two," Grindelwald said after a pause. "But isn't it strange for a Defense course to lack practical combat?"
"...What are you planning?" Dumbledore asked warily.
"Relax. I won't kill anyone," Grindelwald smiled. "Just a duel. Professor Quirrell's reputation isn't great, is it?"
"That shouldn't be allowed," Dumbledore frowned.
"Dueling was never forbidden. A tradition those 'noble' pure-bloods love. Ridiculous-but useful."
He popped a Fizzing Whizbee into his mouth.
"It's a formal challenge. He can't refuse. And you can't stop it."
"This really isn't good," Dumbledore muttered.
"My mind's made up," Grindelwald said. "By the way, I need a wand."
His gaze drifted to Dumbledore's pocket.
"If I give you mine, wouldn't I be an accomplice?" Dumbledore covered it.
"Then I'll buy one in Diagon Alley," Grindelwald said seriously.
"That would cause the biggest riot in history," Dumbledore replied flatly.
"I hear Morin is a wandmaker," Grindelwald said instead.
"He is."
"How skilled?"
"Very."
"Then have him make one for me. Doesn't your reform need someone to demonstrate the new wands' strength?"
Dumbledore considered it.
"...I can't promise his agreement. But it's a sound idea."
...
"A wand? For you?"
Morin looked genuinely surprised.
"And you want to duel Professor Quirrell for his position?"
First-generation Dark Lord.
Second-generation Dark Lord.
About to clash.
And he wanted to use Morin's wand.
This was excellent.
Thinking it through, it was entirely feasible.
The Philosopher's Stone guaranteed immortality, not youth. Eternal aging wasn't eternal life-it was torture.
That was why Dumbledore destroyed it originally.
Now, it had purpose again.
Dumbledore had told him the Stone could be used multiple times. Not long after Morin took custody of it, Gringotts was broken into.
Nothing was stolen.
Which meant the intruder hadn't wanted gold.
Combined with the Stone's removal, the conclusion was obvious.
Even so, Dumbledore still set traps. Morin only placed an observation spell.
As for the intruder?
Morin knew it was Voldemort-wearing Quirrell.
He'd been helping Harry buy a wand that day.
Morin chose not to expose him.
He could have erased Voldemort instantly.
But where was the fun?
Overwhelming strength didn't require immediate use.
That would be boring.
His original plan was simple.
Use Voldemort as Harry's annual training target.
Seven Horcruxes.
Perfect pacing.
But now?
If Grindelwald wanted to test Voldemort...
Morin had no reason to stop him.
Voldemort would still fail later.
Letting them clash and gauging their levels sounded far more entertaining.
Morin's final thought was simple.
I'll bring popcorn.
The first Dark Lord versus the second.
Grindelwald.
Voldemort.
A once-in-a-century spectacle.
Morin was more than ready to sit back.
And watch.
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