The Gathering: The New Order of Merlin Book 1

53. Every librarian's nightmare

》A few hours earlier《

 After everyone got back from the game, Merlin sat in the common room, thinking over different ways of getting Moste Potente Potions book from the Restricted Section of the library. He could try summoning it from a distance but worried if there were any enchantments that would get him in trouble. It would be safer to just go in there and get it. The challenge was to sneak past Madam Pince. He needed her distracted for a couple of minutes. He'd been in a fun mood lately—might as well make this comical.

When he got to the library, he summoned a large pot from the kitchens. Conveniently, it was already filled with a bubbling stew.

"Sorry, elves," he whispered knowing that they would be going out of their minds trying to figure out what happened to it. He enchanted the pot so it grew four short iron legs and made it walk past the librarian's desk.

She caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye and stared at the pot in bewilderment.

"Who... What..." she stuttered and slowly rose from her chair.

He made the pot tip to the side so that the stew almost spilled out. Madam Pince released a guttural cry and ran for it, her wand outstretched. Merlin turned the legs of the pot into wheels and made it zoom between the bookcases. The librarian chased after it and Merlin used this moment to slip into the Restricted Section.

Seriously, if they wanted students to stay out of here, they should've put a locked door or something in the way and not just a red rope. It was too easy.

Beyond the rope, the Restricted Section span across several gloomy isles. He looked around at the tomes and wondered how many of his books they had in here. He had published many, some under a pen name, and some as a ghostwriter for famous authors. Bathilda Bagshot's History of Magic, which was required reading for Hogwarts students, was one of the examples, although Bathilda took a few liberties to change his manuscript based on what she was sure was true. He had no proof of what really happened but his word, and unfortunately, in the eyes of history, the events were often written by the victors, and facts got lost in political translation.

He was tempted to start taking out the books just to see what was inside them. Several emitted a pulse of magic and seemed to call to him, but he resisted. He didn't want to risk getting caught by spending too long in there. He decided to call the book by name to find it.

"Moste Potente Potions."

He heard a slight shuffle in the next aisle and followed the sound to where on the bottom shelf, one book jerked as if it cried, "'Tis me. You called?" He gently pulled the old moldy volume out and listened. No alarm sounded. No enchantment bound him or the book. He realized that the whole mystery of this section of the library was a ruse to keep the younger students out. Feeling smug about how easy it was, he turned back and jumped over the rope to the main part of the library.

As smooth as he wanted the jump to be, his gangly legs did not cooperate. He tripped and fell, taking the rope down with him. Several students looked his way and he quickly hid the book under his robes. Time was of the essence now so he quickly tried to get away, only to be pulled by the hood of his robe.

"What were you doing in there?" A Slytherin Prefect demanded. "Did you have permission to be there?"

Merlin stammered, "Of course I did."

"Show it to me."

"Madam Pince has it."

The Slytherin dragged him along, and Merlin racked his brains for a way out. How could he be so careless to get caught? There were so many better ways he could have handled this task. If only he knew there were no protective enchantments in place, he could have summoned the book from his dorm!