After lunch, Hermione and Hylan headed to the library together to do their homework.
Professor Binns had assigned a six-inch essay for History of Magic.
It wasn’t due until the next class, but they were clearly planning to finish it early.
Hogwarts looked enormous from the outside.
With the Undetectable Extension Charm, the inside was even more vast.
It took them a while just to walk from the Great Hall to the library.
The library sat on the fifth floor, west side of the castle.
The space inside was staggering.
Rows of silent shelves crisscrossed the room.
Thousands of books stood organized by category and size.
Dark brown tables sat between the shelves.
Staircases shifted among them, leading to different levels.
Both kids loved books.
The moment they stepped inside, they looked like mice dropped into a grain silo.
Madam Pince, the librarian, spotted them immediately.
Two little ones grinning ear to ear.
She knew the look.
First-years.
New students.
She hated new students.
Overexcited, fidgety, chattering new students who never remembered the borrowing rules.
Some even damaged the books.
She’d lent out a book in perfect condition and gotten it back looking like it had survived a wizarding war.
Madam Pince strode over, face stern.
“Are you two first-years?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Both answered politely.
She pointed at a library checkout slip.
“And stay out of the Restricted Section.
If you want to take any book from the main section out of the library, you need my permission.”
Hermione and Hylan nodded, the picture of obedience.
Madam Pince was satisfied.
Her impression of them improved considerably.
They found an empty table and set down their things.
Hermione started flipping through books immediately, ready to write her History of Magic essay.
Hylan got up to search for spell books.
He’d pretty much mastered the spells in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
He needed new material.
First-years would have Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, but that pace was too slow.
Time to teach himself a little extra.
He walked past a few shelves, scanning the spines.
A familiar name caught his eye.
Gilderoy Lockhart.
The titles were things like Break with a Banshee, Holidays with Hags, and Wanderings with Werewolves.
He flipped through one.
Despite the slightly sensational titles, the content was all the same.
Stories about Lockhart driving off banshees, werewolves, hags.
Adventure tales, basically.
Probably because Lockhart’s achievements were all stolen, the stories didn’t quite hold together.
Readable enough, but they got strange if you thought about them too hard.
Still, the books were gripping, and the titles grabbed you.
Lockhart’s literary talent clearly far exceeded his magical one.
Hylan put the books back and kept looking for the spell book he wanted.
He wandered closer to the Restricted Section.
It was at the back of the library, cordoned off with a rope.
Books unsuitable for young students.
Hylan eyed it hungrily.
Some dark magic was dangerous, sure.
But it was also powerful.
Strength and power didn’t grow in a greenhouse.
Too bad those books required a signed note from a professor to borrow.
No way he could get one now.
He wouldn’t have minded learning a few aggressive dark spells.
“Back up.
No closer.”
Madam Pince appeared from nowhere, feather duster in hand, eyeing him with suspicion.
“I warned you.
No Restricted Section.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” Hylan stepped back, showing zero interest.
“I was just looking for a book and ended up here without thinking.”
“I’m only a first-year.
The main section has more than enough for me.”
He blinked, the picture of innocence.
Madam Pince gave a short sniff.
“It had better.
What book are you looking for?”
“The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3.”
She nodded at the title.
A flick of her wand, and a book flew over from a distant shelf.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Hylan took it, voice sweet as honey.
“You found that so fast.
Really impressive.”
“Go on, then.
Study.
And don’t damage the book.”
Her face stayed stern.
Only after he left did a faint smile cross her lips.
She didn’t dislike young witches and wizards who loved reading.
Especially the polite, well-behaved ones.
Hylan returned to Hermione.
She was already writing her History of Magic essay.
“I’ve done half an inch.” She lifted her chin and blinked at him.
“I’ll definitely finish before you.”
“Shh.”
He gestured for quiet.
A glance at Madam Pince in the distance, then he sat and whispered, “If I finish faster, will you agree to one request?”
“What request?
And you’re not allowed to write in huge letters.” Hermione leaned in, whispering back.
“Don’t worry.
Just say yes or no.”
“Fine.
Yes.
I’ll definitely finish faster than you.”
Padding essays was something Hylan had been professionally trained in.
And writing in English made it even easier.
Hermione was a good student, but she’d barely written any essays in primary school.
Beating Hylan was nearly impossible.
He thought over Professor Binns’s assignment for a moment, building a rough framework in his head.
Recount the historical event.
Analyze its impact from multiple angles.
End with a look toward the future.
An essay that looked substantial but was really all formula.
Framework ready, he picked up his quill and wrote.
Under thirty minutes.
Done.
“That fast?”
Hermione’s eyes went wide.
She leaned over to examine his essay.
The handwriting was neither large nor small.
Not especially pretty, but neat and clear.
Almost too neat.
Like printed type.
“How did you do that?” She picked up the essay and read it.
He’d written fast, but the content actually held up.
That stung a little.
“You want to learn?
I’ll teach you.”
“Yes, please.”
So Hylan passed on a set of answer-padding and word-count-stretching techniques refined by countless predecessors.
He let her experience the mighty power of exam-driven education.
That day, Hermione felt her brain being baptized by strange new knowledge.
“There’s actually a method like this?”
She muttered to herself, mind stuffed with bizarre new information.
“I lost.” She admitted it fully.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Miss Granger, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?” Hylan took her hand and blinked.
“That’s it?”
“What else?”
He blinked innocently.
What bad intentions could a tiny Slytherin first-year possibly have?
Hermione agreed, though her expression carried a faint, inexplicable disappointment.
At a nearby table, a few Slytherin first-years kept sneaking glances at them.
“They finished their homework already?!”
“Can I copy his…”
“Have some dignity!
Shut up!”
“Homework’s nothing.
Friday is Professor Snape’s class.” One Slytherin ground his teeth.
“No way Prewett gets that lucky in Potions.”
Another elbowed him.
“I think they just started previewing the Potions textbook…”
A collective intake of breath.
“Damn it, what’s wrong with them?
It’s only Monday!
Why didn’t the Sorting Hat put them in Ravenclaw?!”
“Reading won’t help in Potions.
It all comes down to actual brewing.” Someone was still talking tough.
Hylan and Hermione didn’t even notice them.
They were too deep in their grind.
“One more word and you’re all out.”
Madam Pince’s cold voice came from right behind the group.
Instant silence.
“Just wait till Potions.
Then we’ll see who’s better.”