Untitled, By Unknown

30: (Metaphorically) the best weapons in the world

Writing time: 6th- 13th March 2017

'"The library is now closed," she said. "Mind you return anything you have borrowed to the correct- what have you been doing to that book, you depraved boy?"'- Madam Pince, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, 2005. Incidentally, I think this is the first quote I wasn't just able to google. I'm at college as I write, so I'm slightly buggered until I get home and check the book. So, in a timey-wimey turn of events, these words have been written before the quote is actually present. Very Azkaban.

Right, how do I start this without being cheesy? Don't quite know...
I like books.
(Sure, let's go with that.)

In fact, I've always liked them. When you've got a teacher for a parent, and an English teacher at that, a dislike of reading seems impossible. It's probably genetically hardwired. She used to bring me home reading age tests, ones that I would be given years later in secondary school. Not that I could remember them enough to cheat- didn't need to anyway. By the time I was seven, I had a reading age of fourteen. Harry Potter (as seen above), Alex Rider, Percy Jackson, How To Train Your Dragon- all wondrous book series I would consume.
Judging by this, you might think I was a particular fan of libraries. You'd be wrong. There was one literally around the corner from my house (I think it's now a nursery) that never lived up to my vast expectations. Others in neighbouring towns were average at best. Even the one located within my primary school was purely non-fiction, and always seemed off-limits to us children. All that did was create a mental picture of the Hogwarts library in book two- but only in that book. Every other one- the junior school's equivalent of book storage. I know, odd. Best not to dwell on it- my dad's ex-girlfriend's house 'accurately' described three different houses in that universe. Unless it was book four onwards, then my grandma's house would substitute for 4 Privet Drive. Plus, it was nothing like Hogwarts would actually look like. Ah, imagination. Back on topic, I have to admit there were libraries near my dad's that proved sufficient. Yet there was never one with that traditional image of perfection, with all the reading material in the world.
Well, until I went to big school.

An induction day. My future secondary school was just a street away from my primary, resulting in a two-day trip there for the vast majority of Y6's who would be settling in there within a few months. Lunch itself had passed, and so I was left with free time to wander in this strange building. Hmm, what was this? Steps away from the food hall: a library. Sounds interesting. Worst case scenario, a way to kill time.
Oh, it was so much better than that.
A haven of books. Computers. An air of happiness, a complexity that seemed incomprehensible to my young self. The place appeared massive, so much more... advanced than what I was used to. It felt secure. Almost beautiful. As I browsed the shelves, with thousands of stories to choose, a particular paperback caught my eye. It was part of a series entitled 'A Dog Called Grk', one which I possessed the first two books of. This however was book three. And book four. Fantastic. I'd been looking for these for ages. This place had earned my view of perfection. During that day and the next, I managed to complete one of them. When returning in September, the other was the first thing I checked out.
Ah, yes. When I returned.

I'll be honest, I don't exactly remember that first day. Obviously, I know I checked out the book. Apart from that, it's a blur. What I can say is how essential that place became to my new friends, old friends, and myself. It was where we would always gather, wiling away the hours. Within a few weeks, a 'book club' was formed by the head librarian, where a number of us discussed a grouping of novels that had been nominated for an award. Even got to meet one of the authors. The best one too; unfortunately she didn't win. This continued well into Y10, where we sort of... stopped. People just stopped going, and with about four of us left there wasn't much point continuing. Sad. I have that club to thank for discovering 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' and 'Wonder'. Of course, our library adventures didn't end with its closure... the real fun was getting to work there.
It was a fact we'd known for months, with us all waiting for it to be initiated. The library was ran by students, with each batch of Y7's given the chance to sign up. Finally, around January, the time came. Applications made available, writing in our suitable qualities, trying to persuade the head librarian we were worthy of inclusion.
Weeks passed. Then came a Wednesday... nothing happened that day. Then came another Wednesday... revelation.
We found out it was time in the lunch queue. The head librarian poked her head around the door, informing us of this fact. I bolted down my food, rushing to the library in anticipation. Waiting as she sifted through the approved applications. Was mine there? Not that one, nor that, nor that- there. I'd been approved. Oh, yes.
The positives of this job were, to begin, being allowed in the library at all times, no restrictions. There were the people I got to work with, older students who were an absolute joy and who shared my obsession with obscure book trivia. The super special staff office we got to stay in, a safe space from the stupidity of other students. The time before opening where the place was ours.
The downsides were more the actual work.
The job itself wasn't that taxing. I could shelve books, operate the computer system to issue items. The problem (inevitably) was the social interaction. This manifested itself particularly in door duty, where we were forced to ask the names of others who would always seem impossible to spell correctly, or having to ask these people to stop coming in only to receive denial and abuse. This was a task few people enjoyed. Still, one duty a week, three duties- it was rare we'd have to do it. That made the torture more bearable.