After lunch, Hermione and Silan headed to the library together to work on their homework.
Professor Binns had assigned a six-inch essay for History of Magic.
It wasn’t due until their next class, but the two of them were determined to get it out of the way early.
Although Hogwarts Castle looked massive from the outside, the Extension Charms cast upon it made the interior space even larger.
It took Silan and Hermione a good while just to walk from the Great Hall to the library.
Located on the west side of the fifth floor, the Hogwarts library was stunningly vast.
Row after row of dark wooden bookshelves stood in silent lines, holding thousands of books neatly organized by category and size.
Nestled between the shelves were several medium-brown study desks, and a few enchanted ladders moved along the cases to provide access to the higher shelves.
Both children loved books, and stepping into the library felt like dropping two mice into a grain silo.
They were practically buzzing with excitement.
Madam Pince, the librarian, quickly spotted the two first-years smiling from ear to ear.
She could tell instantly that they were new.
New students.
She absolutely detested new students.
They were always too loud, full of annoying energy, and completely incapable of remembering the library rules.
Worse, some of them treated the books terribly.
Sometimes a book would come back to her looking like it had survived a wizarding war.
Madam Pince walked over with a stern look on her face.
“Are you two first-years?” “Yes, ma’am,” they replied politely.
“Remember this: no scratching, tearing, folding, staining, breaking, or throwing the books.
Keep your voices down, and absolutely no eating in the library.
Am I clear?” She pointed to a sign on her desk.
“Furthermore, the Restricted Section is strictly off-limits.
If you want to take a book out of the regular section, you must have my explicit permission.” Hermione and Silan nodded quickly, looking as innocent as possible.
Madam Pince was quite pleased with their behavior, and her opinion of them improved considerably.
The two found an empty table and set down their bags and books.
The moment Hermione sat down, she opened her textbook and got to work on her History of Magic essay.
Silan, however, got up to look for books on charms.
He had already mastered the basic spells in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, and he badly needed to learn something new.
Professor Flitwick’s classes were going to move far too slowly for his liking; he needed to teach himself ahead of schedule.
As he walked down the aisles, scanning the spines of the books, a familiar name caught his eye: Gilderoy Lockhart.
The titles were ridiculous: Break with a Banshee, Gadding with Ghouls, Voyages with Vampires.
Silan flipped through one and found that despite the flashy, dramatic titles, the content was exactly what he expected–mostly adventure stories detailing how Lockhart had supposedly defeated various dark creatures.
Because Lockhart had stolen these achievements from other wizards, the narratives felt a bit disconnected if you read them closely.
Still, they were written with a lot of suspense and had very catchy titles.
It was obvious that Lockhart had far more talent for creative writing than he did for actual magic.
Silan placed the books back on the shelf and kept searching until he neared the back of the room, right by the Restricted Section.
It was separated from the rest of the library by a heavy rope, housing advanced books that were deemed inappropriate for young minds.
Silan stared at it with a trace of envy.
Some dark magic was incredibly dangerous, but nobody could deny its raw power.
Real strength didn’t grow in a greenhouse.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t touch those books without a signed permission slip from a professor, which Silan had no way of getting right now.
Otherwise, he would have loved to learn a few offensive spells.
“Step back!
No going near there!” Madam Pince appeared out of nowhere with a feather duster in hand, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I warned you just moments ago about the Restricted Section.” “My apologies, ma’am,” Silan said, stepping back to show he meant no harm.
“I was just looking for a book and wandered over without realizing it.
I’m only a first-year; the regular section has more than enough for me to learn.” He blinked, looking completely harmless.
Madam Pince gave a small huff.
“It had better stay that way.
What book are you looking for?” “The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3.” The librarian nodded.
With a flick of her wand, a book flew off a distant shelf and landed neatly in her hand.
“Here.
Take it, study hard, and do not damage it,” she said stiffly.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Silan said with a sweet smile.
“You found it so quickly, that’s amazing.” As Silan walked away, a very faint smile crossed Madam Pince’s stern face.
She didn’t hate children who loved to read, especially when they were polite and followed the rules.
Silan sat back down next to Hermione and saw that she was already well into her History of Magic assignment.
“I’ve already written half an inch,” Hermione whispered proudly, giving him a playful look.
“I’m definitely going to finish before you.” “Shh,” Silan hissed softly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Madam Pince wasn’t looking.
He leaned closer and whispered, “If I finish before you, will you promise to do something for me?” “What is it?
First of all, you’re not allowed to cheat by making your handwriting huge,” Hermione whispered back, leaning her head toward his.
“Don’t worry, I won’t.
So, is it a deal?” “Fine, it’s a deal.
But I’m still going to beat you.” Unfortunately for Hermione, Silan had years of experience when it came to writing essays under pressure.
Writing a history essay in English was incredibly easy for him.
Hermione was a brilliant student, but she hadn’t written many long essays in primary school, so she stood no chance against him.
Silan stared at the prompt for a moment, mapping out a structure in his head.
First, he would state the historical facts.
Next, he would analyze the impact from a couple of different angles.
Finally, he would conclude with a thought on how it affected the future.
It was a classic, formulaic structure that filled the page easily while looking incredibly thorough.
Once he had the layout ready, he set his quill to the parchment and started writing.
He was finished in less than thirty minutes.
“You’re done already?” Hermione’s eyes went wide with shock.
She reached over to inspect his parchment.
His handwriting was neat, clear, and perfectly spaced–so precise that it almost looked printed.
“How did you do that so fast?” she asked, looking over the content.
To her frustration, the essay was actually very well written.
“Want me to teach you?” “Yes, please!” Silan spent the next few minutes sharing a handful of essay-writing shortcuts and structural tricks that had been perfected by students for generations.
For the first time, Hermione experienced the brutal efficiency of modern exam-prep techniques.
It felt like a whole new world of strange but highly effective knowledge had just been unlocked in her brain.
“I can’t believe that actually works,” Hermione murmured in disbelief.
“I lose.
What do you want me to do?” “My dear Miss Granger, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me tonight?” Silan asked, catching her hand and flashing a quick grin.
“That’s it?” “What else would it be?” Silan blinked innocently.
He was just a harmless Slytherin first-year, after all.
Hermione agreed, though a tiny, inexplicable look of disappointment crossed her face.
At a nearby desk, a few Slytherin first-years had been watching them out of the corners of their eyes.
“Are they seriously done with their homework already?!” “Do you think he’d let me copy his notes…” “Have some pride!
Shut up!” “So what if they finished the essay?
Friday is our first Potions class with Professor Snape,” another Slytherin whispered through his teeth.
“There’s no way Prewett will have that kind of luck in the dungeons.” The boy next to him nudged him with an elbow.
“Look…
they’ve already opened their Potions textbooks.
They’re reading ahead.” The group let out a collective, horrified gasp.
“Damn it, what is wrong with those two?!
It’s only Monday!
Why didn’t the Sorting Hat just put them both in Ravenclaw?!” “Reading the book won’t save them,” one of them muttered stubbornly.
“Potions is all about practical work anyway.” Silan and Hermione ignored the whispering completely, entirely lost in their own little world of studying.
“If you boys can’t keep quiet, you can leave!” Madam Pince’s cold voice hissed from right behind the row of Slytherins.
The boys went dead silent instantly.
They glared at Silan one last time, silently vowing to settle the score when Friday’s Potions class finally arrived.
— [Total Bonus Chapters Achieved: 0] []