Chapter 30: Every librarian's nightmare

》Few hours earlier《

After everyone got back from the game, Merlin sat in the common room, thinking over different ways of getting Moste Potente Potions book from the Restricted Section of the library. He could try summoning it from a distance but worried if there were any enchantments that would get him in trouble. It would be safer to just go in there and get it. The challenge was to sneak past Madam Pince. He needed her distracted for a couple of minutes. He's been in a fun mood lately—might as well make this comical.

When he got to the library, he summoned a large pot from the kitchens. Conveniently, it was already filled with a bubbling stew.

"Sorry, elves," he whispered knowing that they would be going out of their minds trying to figure out what happened to it. He enchanted the pot so it grew four short iron legs and made it walk past the librarian's desk.

She caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye and stared at the pot in bewilderment.

"Who… What…" she stuttered and slowly rose from her chair.

He made the pot tip to the side so that the stew almost spilled out. Madam Pince released a guttural cry and ran for it, her wand outstretched. Merlin turned the legs of the pot into wheels and made it zoom between the bookcases. The librarian chased after it and Merlin used this moment to slip into the Restricted Section.

Seriously, if they wanted students to stay out of here, they should've put a locked door or something in the way and not just a red rope. It was too easy.

Beyond the rope, the Restricted Section span across several gloomy isles. He looked around at the tomes and wondered how many of his books they had in here. He had published many, some under a pen name, and some as a ghostwriter for famous authors. Bathilda Bagshot's History of Magic, which was required reading for Hogwarts students, was one of the examples, although Bathilda took a few liberties to change his manuscript based on what she was sure was true. He had no proof of what really happened but his word, and unfortunately, in the eyes of history, the events were often written by the victors, and facts got lost in political translation.

He was tempted to start taking out the books just to see what was inside them. Several emitted a pulse of magic and seemed to call to him, but he resisted. He didn't want to risk getting caught by spending too long in there. He decided to call the book by name to find it.

"Moste Potente Potions."

He heard a slight shuffle in the next aisle and followed the sound to where on the bottom shelf, one book jerked as if it cried, "'Tis me. You called?" He gently pulled the old moldy volume out and listened. No alarm sounded. No enchantment bound him or the book. He realized that the whole mystery of this section of the library was a ruse to keep the younger students out. Feeling smug about how easy it was, he turned back and jumped over the rope to the main part of the library.

As smooth as he wanted the jump to be, his gangly legs did not cooperate. He tripped and fell, taking the rope down with him. Several students looked his way and he quickly hid the book under his robes. Time was of the essence now so he quickly tried to get away, only to be pulled by the hood of his robe.

"What were you doing in there?" A Slytherin Prefect demanded. "Did you have permission to be there?"

Merlin stammered, "Of course I did."

"Show it to me."

"Madam Pince has it."

The Slytherin dragged him along, and Merlin racked his brains for a way out. How could he be so careless to get caught? There were so many better ways he could have handled this task. If only he knew there were no protective enchantments in place, he could have summoned the book from his dorm!

Over on the other side of the library, Madam Pince struggled with the pot of stew. She had bound it in ropes so it wouldn't get away and kept throwing spells at it, trying to stop Merlin's enchantment. The pot struggled in its hold and kept spilling bits of stew around.

This gave him a brilliant idea.

"Madam Pince?" he asked.

"You better hope she really has your permission slip or there will be dire consequences," the Slytherin spat with an evil smirk.

"Not now, children," she snapped and threw another spell which did nothing to the naughty pot.

"It's about that," Merlin said to her. "I saw this boy place an enchantment on that pot of stew."

"What?" the Slytherin whirled around and grabbed Merlin violently. "You little…"

"You let go of him, boy," Madam Pince cried and approached them both. Her thin, sunken face was fierce and unforgiving. "You dare befoul my library? You dare endanger my books?"

The Slytherin kept his hold on Merlin and tried to explain. "It's not true. He's just saying it…"

"I WILL NOT HAVE THIS LIBRARY TURNED INTO A JOKE SHOP!"

She looked as if she was ready to transform into a giant man-eating vulture. The boy paled, and Merlin felt the hold on his robes loosen.

"B-b-but… I didn't…" the boy stammered.

"YOU THINK IT'S TRIVIAL TO DESECRATE THESE VOLUMES? YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, YOU DEPRAVED BOY?"

Using the distraction, Merlin slowly squirmed out of the boy's grip.

"I didn't. I swear…"

"YOU PUT CENTURIES OF IRREPLACEABLE KNOWLEDGE AT RISK FOR A CHILDISH PRANK!"

The Slytherin boy cowered in fear as the librarian shrieked of the crime he had not committed. Merlin slipped out unnoticed and closed the library doors with relief, effectively drowning out the sounds of screams and begging.

It was a close one. Did he feel guilty for getting the boy in trouble? Maybe a little, but not too much. It was important for him to get the book out of the library for Harry by whatever means were necessary. His mission was more important than a few house points that Slytherin was about to lose undeservingly.

Harry found him during the evening feast and Merlin tagged along with the trio to show them the book.

"We'll go to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione said, leading the way. "No one will bother us there."

When they opened the door, they saw Ginny Weasley stand in front of a sink, looking down.

Hermione gasped, said a quick "Sorry," and they all backed right out of there before Ginny noticed that three boys had just invaded a girls' lavatory. Merlin could feel his cheeks burn and guessed that he was as red as Ron and Harry were right now.

"I can't believe you had us go in there," Ron complained while they snuck away.

"I don't know what she's doing there. No one in their right mind would willingly want to spend time with Myrtle."

Merlin opened the first door he found and the kids followed him into what looked like an unused classroom. They put four chairs around one table and leaned down on it.

Merlin pulled out the book and placed it in front of Hermione. She touched it reverently and paged through the different recipes. Disturbing drawings adorned the pages, illustrating the effects of the different potions and warnings of their side effects.

"Found it," she said and started reading the instructions. "Complicated, more complicated than any potion I've ever made."

They waited as she analyzed what they were going to need. "Shredded skin of boomslang and a powdered horn of a bicorn will be tricky to get."

"Do you mean we're going to have to steal it?" Harry looked worried. "From Snape's private stores?"

Hermione ignored him. "And we'll need bits of the people we'll be turning into."

"I'm not drinking Crabbe's toenails," Ron protested, shaking his head.

"Do you want to find out if Malfoy is the Heir or are you too chicken to go through with it?" Hermione looked at the boys fiercely and they fidgeted on the spot.

"I'll help you get the ingredients," Merlin offered. It seemed that thieving for Harry had become his occupation.

Hermione nodded while looking at Harry and Ron, waiting for them to fall in line.

"I can't believe you're the one that's pushing us to break school rules," Harry answered with a smile, and Hermione's mood lightened up.

She continued reading the instructions, "We need a full moon and twenty-one days to stew the lacewings…"

"So about a month," Merlin sighed.

"A month?" Ron screeched, his voice breaking.

"It's our only option," Hermione summarized.

"But not toenails, right?" Ron worried again.

They spent the rest of the evening in that classroom, scheming and devising the plan among them. Merlin was hating the convoluted idea more and more but couldn't suggest an alternative without the trio noticing that there was something off about him, so he went along with it, glad to be included. He had a feeling they would need him.

He came back to the dorm when everyone was asleep already, exhausted but in a good way. It was a very productive day. Everything was going exactly as it should be. It felt as if he had just fallen asleep when he was shaken awake by cold hands.

"Merlin, wake up," he heard Jack's voice.

He grumbled and pulled up the cover more tightly around himself. "Why are your hands so cold?"

"Sorry about that." He shook him again. "Merlin, I'm worried. Wake up."

Merlin opened one eye grudgingly.

"I woke up early," Jack said, "because… Because I woke up, and Colin's bed was made. He never makes his bed. Merlin, did he come back last night with you?"

Merlin tried to shake the sleep off his mind. "What?"

"I thought Colin was out with you since you were both nowhere to be found. Was he?"

The boy's voice sounded urgent, but Merlin his brain wasn't awake enough to decipher what he meant. "Colin wasn't with me last night. I was with Harry."

Jack bit his lip and stared at Colin's bed. "So he never came back last night?"

It was as if someone threw a bucket of cold water at Merlin. He shot out of his covers and looked at Colin's neatly made bed. When he came back, he was so tired, he didn't look at who was in bed and who wasn't.

"Merlin, he's Muggle-born. You don't think…" Jack's voice cracked, and he couldn't finish the sentence.

Merlin quickly threw on a pair of trousers and shoes and ran out, Jack followed. He led the way to the Hospital Wing and threw its doors open. Right there on a wire-framed bed was a statue of Colin Creevey, frozen in a strange position as if he was holding something. Merlin ran up to him and checked his vitals.

"He's alive but petrified."

"No…" Jack said in a small voice next to him. "Not Colin."

The longer Merlin looked at the stiff body of the boy, the more his blood boiled. Colin, the happy, easily excited, nicest, and most innocent boy he'd ever met, was the first human victim of the Chamber of Secrets. It was happening—Muggle-borns were being attacked and this sweet boy, his friend, was the first one to go. And Merlin failed to protect him.

Madam Pomfrey walked in, yawning.

"You can't do anything for him, boys," she said kindly. "We'll make a Mandrake Restorative Draught and bring him back but it's going to take a few weeks. Mandrakes are not ready yet."

Jack sat down on the bed next to the boy. "Can I stay with him?"

"Yes, but there is really nothing you can do. I'll take good care of him. I promise."

"Can I help?"

Merlin didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. He ran out of there in the direction of Dumbledore's office. By picking his friend, Salazar's heir guaranteed that Merlin was now taking it very personally. He knocked and walked in without waiting for an invitation. He froze in place when he saw that he interrupted the Headmaster with the Heads of Houses whose eyes were now all on him.

"Oh, sard it!" he swore at the mistake he just made.

Snape looked annoyed, Sprout and Flitwick looked puzzled to see him there, and McGonagall looked so outraged as if he had walked in there naked. He resisted an urge to check if he really was wearing his trousers.

"I will see you afterwards, Merlin, if you'd kindly wait outside?" Dumbledore said.

"Yes, sir. Forgive the intrusion," he blurted and turned back around.

He paced in front of the gargoyle entrance to the office and tried to calm his nerves. He couldn't get over the feeling of failure that overwhelmed him. He knew what danger Colin was in and still left the boy to wander the castle halls alone like a tasty bait for the Chamber monster. He had to make this castle safe again, and he had to act fast before more children were attacked.

The staff came out from the Headmaster's office, and McGonagall stopped by him.

"That was incredibly rude, Mr. Ealdor," she said sharply. "You've made it a habit to act rudely in front of the Headmaster!"

He hoped that she meant the intrusion and didn't understand the swearing. "Yes. I was… I was distraught… because of Colin." He didn't even have to fake it.

Her face softened a little. "The Headmaster will see you now."

"Thank you, Professor," he said hastily and ran up the narrow staircase.

He walked into the office cautiously, fully expecting "Where were you?" type of questioning. He deserved it. What use was he if he couldn't even keep his own friends safe?

"You don't have to say it," Dumbledore said while petting his Phoenix.

Merlin wasn't sure what he referred to so he silently walked up to him.

"You must be dying to say 'I told you so.'" Dumbledore continued.

"No. I'm not," Merlin sighed. "I didn't want this to happen. I'd love to be wrong for once." He reached out to pet the bird, but Fawkes squawked and moved away. "Still doesn't like me."

Dumbledore walked away and sat behind his desk where he rubbed his temples. "Have you got any leads?"

"I think one of the younger students is behind it but don't know more than that. Harry wants to do his own investigation, so I'm helping him."

"I'm glad at least that is working out. Keep him safe while he's sneaking around."

"I will but what about the rest of the school?"

"The Heads of Houses will instruct all Prefects and Head Boy and Girl to help keep the students from wandering alone. The staff will take turns patrolling the corridors. But most of all, we need to find out who is behind this."

"Yes, we do."

They sat in silence for a while. The seconds ticked by, and Merlin nervously patted the table with his thumb. "You had a house-elf visit yesterday," he remembered. "Dobby, not one of yours. Have you heard of him?"

"House-elf? No. What was he doing here?"

"Interfering with the game. That elf knows something, probably overheard his master talk about the Chamber but wouldn't tell me anything. You know how they are with loyalty—can't get them to talk directly against those they serve. If only we knew who his master was, we would have a clue."

"I will ask around if anyone has heard of Dobby, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. A good elf is an invisible elf. It's possible that no one but the master would know his name."

"I put a tracking mark on it. I'll attempt to follow it today. Maybe I can discover its master."

"Good luck then. I'll cover for you if it takes you more than a day." The old wizard's face became serious again. He shifted in his seat as if getting ready for something unpleasant. "Merlin, by happenstance you wouldn't know anything about the curse that has been placed upon Severus Snape?"

Ah, that unpleasantry. Merlin tried to keep a straight face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Albus sighed and linked his hands together in front of him. "Reverse the curse, Merlin. You've had your fun."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "These types of curses have a tendency to land on people who deserve them, Albus. When he stops deserving it, we can talk."

Dumbledore huffed. "I think you've been a child for too long because you're starting to act like one. You can't go around cursing my staff just because you don't like them."

All humor gone, Merlin tried to stand as tall as his child body would let him. He was actually wondering if he went too easy on Snape who not only tormented his students but trained the next generation of bullies by example. Merlin only got started on teaching the lesson to his dear Potions Master.

"I will not stand by and do nothing when innocents are being mistreated." He poked his finger in the old wizard's direction. "Be glad broken chairs is all he got. Maybe I was in a good mood that day. You do not want to see me in a bad one."

He could feel his temper flaring and didn't need to make it worse. There was no time for arguments with Dumbledore.

"We're done here," he said curtly. He had more important things to do than explaining his plans for Snape. "I'll look for Dobby."

For some reason, he felt a need to remind Dumbledore who he was dealing with. So he disapparated right in front of him in a cloud of black smoke and a whirl of wind.

》《

Over in the girls' dormitory, Ginny looked at the poster of Gwenog Jones which she hung on the wall at the start of term. Ever since her parents took her to the game of Holyhead Harpies a year ago, she had been obsessed with Gwenog and strived to be just as brilliant, strong, and successful both in Quidditch and in life, but time proved that she was nothing like her. She was weak physically and mentally. Gwenog would be ashamed to have a fan like her.

You've set too high expectations of yourself. It's okay to be ordinary.

Tom's words kept ringing in her head. Were her expectations too high? She used to have all of these hopes and dreams. Now, she remembered them all as if they belonged to someone else. She couldn't find enough of that old Ginny inside herself. She was less.

She got in the habit of crying herself to sleep, quietly, so her roommates wouldn't notice, clutching her diary to her chest, her only friend. Tom comforted her with kind words and encouragement, but it wasn't enough to keep her spirit up. It seemed that each morning, she woke up feeling even worse, more drained.

Then, there were the days when she'd wake up in the wretched Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Myrtle usually ignored her and sobbed to herself in her stall. If only the ghost was any more pleasant, Ginny would bond with her. They were both sad and lonely, but it was impossible to hold a conversation with her. Myrtle would get offended for the most stupid reasons. Like this one time, Ginny commented that she liked her hair and Myrtle exploded, "That's what people say when they mean your face is ugly!" and wailed so loud, Ginny was afraid she would alert the whole castle and get her in trouble.

She was on her way to the Great Hall, pondering whether Myrtle was just as annoying before she died when two monsters ran out right in front of her. They were taller than her, covered in red-brown shaggy fur but looked mostly like humans. After the initial shock wore off, she looked closer at their faces.

"George? Fred! What in the ruddy gnomes are you doing?"

"Waiting for you, isn't it obvious?" one of them said, she couldn't tell which one because of the fur.

"How do we look?"

"I'll say we're dashing."

She rolled her eyes at them. They looked like mangy, red-haired Yetis. "Watch out. If Professor Lockhart notices you, he'd like to sell you his hair care products now that you have so much of it."

The twins sniggered and playfully nudged her shoulder but she really wasn't in the mood to laugh. "Oh, cheer up, Ginny. We're just playing."

"We know that you're sad because of what happened to your friend."

Ginny's breath caught. Oh, no. They mentioned Colin. She had been avoiding thinking about him all day. Last night was one of those nights when she lost track of time and woke up in Myrtle's bathroom barely able to move. It was just as bad as on Halloween, maybe even worse. Both times someone ended up petrified exactly during the span of time when Ginny was sleepwalking. Tom assured her that it was a coincidence but she wasn't so sure. What if she was the one who was behind the attacks? Colin was her friend, one of the very few people who were unconditionally nice. They sat together during Transfiguration class in the first row, the short kids' table, they joked, and his cheerful chipper always made her feel better. Why did it have to be him?

"Oh, no, Ginny. Don't cry."

She wiped her eyes and gritted her teeth. She would not cry, and she would not put up with her brothers. She had to get away from them.

"Can you go bother someone else," she complained.

"Already done. I put a stink pellet in Percy's bookbag."

"He deserved it. He keeps knocking our points."
"It's like he doesn't want us to win the House Cup."

"You know, he's been up to something lately. He acts so secretively."

"Doesn't share."

"We must find out what it is."

One of them scratched his hairy arm. "Do you think Madam Pomfrey has an antidote?"

"Let's find out."

The twins finally left her alone and she continued on her way.

Ginny's eyes still felt misty as she thought of poor Colin. She turned around and instead of going to the Great Hall, she went to the Hospital Wing to visit him.

》《

Minerva sat down to talk to the Headmaster. As usual, he dealt with work-related stress by filling his body with sugar. He offered her a bowl of Muggle candy and she took one politely, but it was too sweet for her taste. She wished he would keep other snacks in his office. There was nothing better than a couple of soft biscuits to munch on with a warm cup of tea.

"As per your instruction, we've established a schedule for nighttime patrols," she got down to business. "All staff will help. We're trying to keep the panic to a minimum but advised the older students of the severity of the situation, so they would help implement an early curfew."

"Good work, Minerva. As always."

She appreciated his kind words, but they were unnecessary. She would do a thorough job without praise just as well. Her heart ached when she thought about the danger her pupils were exposed to. She maintained a calm, controlled facade, but underneath, she was scared for them all. It was her duty to protect them and she failed one little boy already. But there was no use in worrying. She had responsibilities to attend to.

"Thank you. I'm here also with an unrelated matter which I didn't get to bring up before. If the time is not right, we can delay this discussion."

"I'm all ears."

"It is rather unprecedented. Two students came to me, asking for special consideration due to their religious beliefs."

He raised his eyebrows. "What type of special consideration do they need?"

"They want to be excused from performing Transfiguration spells that involve animals."

Dumbledore nodded his head thinking it over. "Interesting. No one has requested this before. What religion do they practice?"

"They call it the Old Religion." He froze and she could tell that the words had a profound effect on him. "Have you heard of it?"

He blinked a few times and nodded. "I have. Who are those two students?"

"Merlin Ealdor and Jack Nix. I assume that Elsa Nix partakes in this as well although I haven't spoken to her yet."

Corners of his mouth lifted a little in a small smile like he knew something she didn't. She did not like being kept in the dark.

"Headmaster, if you know anything about this practice, I would greatly appreciate your input. I am rather concerned."

"I'm well aware that the Ealdor family practices Old Religion. I know them well."

"Ah," she smoothed out her gown. "This explains why Merlin was so crass to call you by your first name."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed. I'm afraid it will be a difficult habit for him to break." He took another of his sweets and sucked on it for a moment while thinking. "You should allow them what they request as long as it's within reason." He leaned on the desk and gazed at her intensely. "My own request is that I'd like to know who is in their group and what activities they plan to engage in."

She was glad he brought this up. "I think it is most wise, Headmaster. It worries me what I've read about the ancient practices connected to this faith."

"Feel free to ask Merlin if you have concerns. He loves talking about it."

She found it strange that an old wizard like him had such a casual relationship with an eleven-year-old boy. On the other hand, Albus Dumbledore was full of eccentricities. She supposed he was allowed yet another one.

She got up to leave and pondered on how this school year was proving to be even more challenging than the last one. An ancient legend was awakened. Petrified patients in the Hospital Wing. Religious clubs sprouted up. What else would they face? No sooner had she thought those words, there was a loud noise behind her, and she turned around with her hand already in her pocket, ready to draw her wand.

A/N: Just one day left until NaNoWriMo! I don't feel ready but I'll give it my best try. Any of you doing nano this year?