Sign in

Respect the book  PV Wolverina Lucinda   Closed 

Do you know what the best thing about a library is? Well the books obviously, but the smell is the second best. With the deafening silence it becomes all the more obvious to the senses but that ever so slight smell of old paper lovingly preserved is far more focussing than any amount of coffee. It was progressing into the late evening, not that you’d know it lost amoungst all the books, the nearest window was a considerable number of rows away. It would be fair to say the candles were burning low, or it would if the candles at Hogwarts ever actually ran out but they had a handy way of replenishing themselves.

Grayson was in heaven. He had a few magical books at home but this, this was something else. He was currently in the transfiguration section, well a part of it, he couldn’t even see the end! Taking in a deep breath he took a moment to embrace the silence of it before running his hand along the spines of the books. There must be almost every magical work ever published right here at his fingertips, well almost at his fingertips, the forbidden section glared at him from the corner of his vision. It was strange how even with all the books available to him he still lusted after the few tomes that were just out of reach.

Retrieving the book he needed he made his way back out of the stacks and to the workbenches. It was an unpleasant feeling, in the stacks you could pretend that all of this was just for you but the students scattered across the tables brought a painful reminder that these books were only to borrow. Adjusting his grip on the book, which by all accounts seemed much larger than it had any right to be, and made his way over to an empty desk.

This was where most students would drop the book with an almighty crash but not him, no he was careful with it and delicately opened the cover without bending the spine. The scratching of quills was a distraction and an unwelcome one at that, it’s not that he didn’t like sharing this was a sanctuary to him and people always seemed remarkably good at invading anything sacred. Still he too would start scratching away soon enough. Pulling out his quill and ink he set to work.