A/N: I apologise for the shortness of this chapter. It's just a general filler, really. Enjoy :)

Chapt'r the Seventhe

The entirety of the psychosomaticpolymathematics of L-Space is a tricky one to get your head around if you're not a wizard or a Nocturnomath1 (having at least four+ ancillary brains helps if you aren't magically gifted), therefore, it shall have to be broken down into smaller chunks. L-Space is a phase space that connects together all libraries. All of them. Every sort, of every type of library is linked to another one. L-Space contains all the books that there ever are, ever were, ever shall be, ever could be, and all the books in between.

That is, in essence, the nature of a phase space. To contain all the possibilities that could potentially happen. And more besides. It has often been remarked upon by some of the more pushier researchers2that Reality is in fact a phase space, containing all the universes that could ever be.

There have even been speculations as to whether there is a phase space specified to contain all the potential phase spaces – but as the other half of the researching community would say, that would be the whole of reality.

However, dear readers, I have digressed: it is of L-Space I wish to speak, for its role is rather important. Although L-Space connects all libraries together using the equation of knowledge = power = energy = mass; throughout the bowels of Reality, there have only ever been three libraries of books that are of such a vast volume that they are in actuality minor tracts of L-Space manifested in normal space.

These institutions are: The Library (a planet, so I am informed, that is so vast it doesn't need a name "just a great big 'The'") which housed specially-printed editions of all the known books in the known universe on one artificially-constructed planet; The city of Bookholm, located in the lost Earth continent of Zamonia, which was so crammed full of bookshops, libraries and had whole catacombs lined with bursting bookshelves that one is surprised that the city is still real enough to exist; and then there is the library of Unseen University, premier institution of magic on the Discworld.

The Library at UU doesn't adhere to the ordinary rules of Space and Time, both of which take hold of Logic, Reason and Common Sense and they all wander off for a fag and leave you to get on with it. It is staffed by wizards, and its chief librarian is technically a wizard, although he is a large, sentient, hairy, orange orang-utan (And he prefers it that way. It makes navigating what looks like something from Maurice Escher's imagination so much easier).

The Librarian knuckled his way out L-Space and into his own familiar library, feeling troubled. He wanted to help that nice Blonde Bookmerchant if he could. The Blonde Bookmerchant was often glad of company, it seemed, and would give the Librarian cups of tea, cocoa or even banana fritters. The Librarian had been eavesdropping there when the Second Archancellor had introduced himself and, after scenes of much denial, the Blonde Bookmerchant had accepted that the Second Archchancellor was a wizard.

It seemed that the Auditors of Reality were messing about in Roundworld again – not the University's artificially-created version of it, but a mere parallel universe of it. All the same, the Librarian felt responsible for Roundworld in a way, but he was unsure of how to stop the Auditors. He had decided that involving UU's Archancellor Mustrum Ridcully was more trouble than it was worth – so he thought he'd aid Roundworld in some small ways.

It seemed that there was to be a trial for an important wizard called Harry Potter, and so, after muttering "Ook!" to himself many times, the Librarian knew just how to save him...

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Aziraphale looked as the mint editions burst into flames before his very eyes in abject horror. He gestured quickly at the writhing fires, until a wave of desert sand poured through the shop, coating everything. Albus Dumbledore waved his wand and restored everything to normal.

"There, now. I trust your doubts are quenched as much as that fire?" Dumbledore said, oblivious to the large shadow of the Librarian perched high up on a bookshelf near the ceiling.

"Oh, yes. But look here, you can't just set fire to a chap's livelihood like that!" the angel snapped most unangelically, moving quickly around the shop to check his precious books were all in order.

"Mr Fell - I apologise - Aziraphale, it is imperative that you should join my staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Reconciliation between magical folk and non-magical folk should take place. It is the only way to defeat Lord Voldemort and his followers if Harry fails in his task. You have lived upon this globe for millennia. My own lifespan is but a mayfly's compared to your own. Who better than to teach in my newly-created Non-Magical Studies Faculty?" Dumbledore said diplomatically, treading carefully both literally and metaphorically.

"I-I can think of one other." Aziraphale said, until he caught site of twelve Auditors surveying the drama blandly from the back of the shop. "Leave me alone, I tell you!" he screamed in a voice that suggested to the world that not all of his mind was at home. He grabbed a book at random and Frisbeed it at the hovering, dispassionate robes. The manic gleam had shaded his eyes once more and three veins pulsated a venomous purple out of his forehead. The book, by some miracle, was Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, which caused the Auditors to perish instantly.

"Professor Dunderboar, if, if I consent to work for you," the angel said, breathing deeply and speaking in the tones of one who wishes to appear calm and sane, "I do have two requests. One, that you keep the Auditors out of my hair. They're driving me potty. Two, my friend Crowley also joins your staff. He's a demon, but he's not an entirely bad chap, and he's more well-travelled than myself, so he'll be excellent at geography. We sort of...balance each other out, really. He does something bad, I thwart it, that sort of thing. And I d-do miss him, you see..." A tear welled up behind his frameless Specsavers glasses and splashed onto the floor.

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1 ZDZ: See The 13/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear by Walter Moers for more details.

2 ZDZ: The sort that lurk in dungeons underneath ruined mansions or haunted castles and cackle gleefully as the lightening builds up.