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[Hogwarts] Ch 60: Borrowing Books from Dumbledore
🕑 Added 2025-06-21 18:45:44 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
Back in the Headmaster's office
Tom had no idea Lucius was giving Draco a crash course in the Malfoy survival handbook—using him as the lesson.
At the moment, he was enjoying a lemon sherbet and casually eyeing the decor.
The office was perched atop one of the castle's towers, and the high ceiling allowed for two levels.
The upper one was likely Dumbledore's personal quarters.
The lower level, where guests were received, was filled with portraits of past headmasters, rare magical trinkets, and towering bookshelves packed with thick, dusty books.
Tom had sharp eyes. He could make out a few of the titles—none of which he'd seen before in the Hogwarts library or even in Diagon Alley.
Maybe they were from the Restricted Section?
But up until now, he hadn't had a chance to enter it.
Then his eyes landed on a wooden shelf that stood strangely empty. It was made of fine paulownia wood, but the surface was covered in a faint layer of ash.
"Professor," Tom asked, "I heard you keep a phoenix. Why isn't it here?"
"Ah, Fawkes?" Dumbledore smiled. "He comes and goes as he pleases. I've never tried to control him. He's probably off hunting somewhere right now."
Tom felt a bit disappointed. He'd wanted to see a real phoenix—just to see if it looked anything like the one in the movies.
It wasn't that he didn't want a pet. A wizard who didn't want a magical companion wasn't a real student in his eyes.
The problem was, he didn't see much use in ordinary ones. If he was going to get a pet, it had to be something as unique and powerful as Dumbledore's.
"Tom, if you don't mind me calling you that…" Dumbledore's voice gently broke his thoughts.
He glanced at the boy who was still staring at the phoenix's perch. "You seem to love books."
Tom turned back, taking another bite of the lemon sherbet. "There's just not much to do in the magical world. Not a lot of hobbies or entertainment. So, yeah—reading kind of became my go-to."
"I feel the same way," Dumbledore said with a knowing nod. "In the Muggle world, there's opera, radio, television… so many things. Their huge population fuels endless creativity."
"It's a shame this castle rejects all that. I once tried to put a television in here. Couldn't get it to turn on. A few days later, even the wiring wouldn't work!"
"Wait—so it's magic that interferes with electronics?" Tom asked curiously. "But then how come the TV at the Leaky Cauldron works just fine? I mean, the place is packed with wizards too."
Dumbledore chuckled. "No, no—it's not just the magic. Magical energy can disrupt Muggle tech, yes, but only during a magical surge."
"The casual magical residue from young witches and wizards isn't enough to cause major interference."
He looked up at the ceiling above them.
"It's Hogwarts itself. The castle's alive in a way. It's an enormous magical artifact with layers of ancient enchantments. There are still things about it even I don't fully understand."
"Oh..." Tom nodded thoughtfully and fell silent.
He didn't know what Dumbledore's real purpose was in calling him here, but he was sure it wasn't anything malicious.
So he decided to just wait and see what move the old man would make.
Oddly enough, Dumbledore seemed to genuinely want a chat. He bounced from topic to topic—asking how Tom was doing in his studies, how his dorm life was going, what he thought about the classes and the professors.
Tom, a little confused but always composed, answered each question without giving too much away.
Then finally—
"I heard from Severus that you've come up with a 'Shadow prefect' system?" Dumbledore asked, smiling.
Here it comes.
Tom straightened up a little. "It was just a random idea, really. In the Muggle world, each school grade has its own class president. I figured, why should only the upper years have prefects? The younger years need someone to manage things too. There's always going to be a gap between different grades—it's easier to bridge that with someone your own age."
"A very thoughtful idea," Dumbledore chuckled. "And what about this... Shadow Head of House concept?"
"Professor," Tom said earnestly, "I just want to improve."
"Professor Snape is overwhelmed—twenty-something classes a week, plus grading. It's no wonder he doesn't have time for student affairs. I just want to help lighten the load."
Even Dumbledore, with all his years of experience and composure, was momentarily at a loss for words.
You're a first-year student, and this is what you say?
Tom, however, was the type to toss out three lines even if only one might hit the mark.
Because if by some miracle Dumbledore did go along with it...
Well, that was just more achievement points for him.
The profits were guaranteed—no risk, all reward.
And if Dumbledore didn't agree? Well, that was fine too.
He'd come around eventually.
As Tom expected, Dumbledore turned him down gently.
"Tom," the old man said kindly, "a student's main focus should be learning and enjoying the beauty of their school years. Leave the burdens of adulthood to the adults."
"Severus is a responsible and dedicated Head of House. You should trust in his abilities."
Spy, Potions Master, Head of Slytherin, keeping an eye on Quirrell, and protecting Harry Potter.
Honestly, Snape was like some kind of born workhorse—whatever you threw at him, he'd somehow manage. That's why Dumbledore wasn't the least bit worried.
"Alright then." Tom shrugged as if it didn't matter. Then he shifted gears with a casual smile. "What about expanding the Shadow Prefect program to the entire school? If something works well, shouldn't it be shared?"
Dumbledore went quiet.
"Maybe not," he said finally, "not all Houses are like Slytherin. Some of them prefer a little more… freedom."
He glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's almost lunchtime. I imagine Miss Greengrass is waiting for you. I won't keep you, this old man's rambled on long enough."
The conversation had clearly run its course—Dumbledore, who had been the one to invite Tom in, now seemed eager to see him go.
But now it was Tom who wasn't in a rush. The boy blinked innocently. "Professor, you've got a ton of books here. Mind if I borrow two?"
Dumbledore looked momentarily surprised but agreed with a chuckle. "Of course not. I could never say no to a student's thirst for knowledge."
"Thank you."
Tom stood up and walked over to the enormous bookshelf. He climbed the old ladder that leaned against it, scanning the titles.
He had no idea if the books were magically protected, so he decided to go the old-fashioned route—manual search.
It didn't take long for Tom to settle on two books.
Advanced Magical Theory and Development in the 16th Century.
And From Ignorance to Equivalent Exchange – A Beginner's Guide to Alchemy.
"These are the two, Professor," Tom said as he descended.
Dumbledore barely glanced at the first book, but when he saw the second, his eyes lit up with amusement.
"You're interested in alchemy, too? That one was written by an old friend of mine. It was never published publicly—just passed around privately among a few circles."
"To pick that book out of this whole collection… maybe it's fate."
"Is that so?" Tom smiled politely. "Well, if I run into any problems later, maybe I can ask your friend for advice."
On the cover, aside from the gold-stamped title, there was a tiny line of text in the corner, marking the author:
Nicolas Flamel.
.
.
.
