To the left of the corridor stood rows of bookshelves, each over two meters tall and crammed with leather-bound volumes. There were three distinct sections stretching ahead, a dozen rows deep, housing what must have been thousands of books.
"Is this the entirety of the Travers collection? We had an agreement, Yulia—no hiding or transferring the family assets," Alan said, offering a thin smile as he glanced at her.
"Do not insult me. We swore an oath; I am well aware of the price for deceiving you," Yulia snorted, gesturing toward the center of the room with her chin. "I've brought every volume from the private studies and the satellite estates here. They're piled on those long tables. Can you not see for yourself?"
Indeed, the heavy oak desks were buried under stacks of books that had clearly been moved in great haste to comply with the terms of their deal.
"And Slytherin's manuscripts?" Alan asked, tilting his head.
"In the wooden box on the first table. As we agreed, those manuscripts count as five of your three hundred books," Yulia stated firmly, her eyes tracking his every move.
"Fair enough. As long as you guarantee this is the complete set and no other fragments have been withheld, I will honor my side of the Vow," Alan nodded.
"One more thing," Yulia added, her voice dropping into a grave tone. "As per our negotiation, once a book is copied, there is no turning back. You must not damage the originals. Once you reach three hundred, or if a single page is torn, the transaction is over. You have twenty-four hours from this moment to make your selection. After that, I will personally see you out."
"Heh. You sound nervous. It makes me think there's something truly extraordinary hidden in these stacks," Alan teased, watching her reaction.
"Hmph."
The comment stung, and Yulia couldn't suppress a cold snort of annoyance. Because of the Vow, she had been forced to display the entire collection, but she had spent the previous night camouflaging the truly dangerous family heirlooms. She had placed several rare but less critical books as decoys, hoping to lead his eye away from the ancestral treasures. Even a dedicated scholar would struggle to find the real prizes in a single day.
Ignoring her darkening expression, Alan walked to the first table and opened the wooden box containing the Slytherin manuscripts. Inside lay an ancient volume that looked as though it might crumble if breathed upon. The parchment was yellowed and brittle, with several loose pages tucked between the covers. Beside the book were a handful of scattered sheets and two tightly bundled scrolls.
Yulia didn't hover. She walked to a velvet sofa nearby and sat down with practiced elegance. *Let him look,* she thought. *If he gets lost in those yellowed pages, he'll never have time to find the real secrets.*
Alan was blissfully unaware of her internal monologue; he was simply in an excellent mood. He carefully opened the bound book first.
*This is... research notes. Dark Arts and Bloodline Magic.*
Alan felt his pulse quicken, but he suppressed the urge to dive into a deep read. Efficiency was his priority. He pulled reams of parchment from his spatial pouch and began a rapid, magically-assisted transcription. This was the time for collection, not study.
Once the notes were secured, he turned to the two scrolls. The first was indeed a runic formula for the Slytherin Mental Protection Charm. However, many characters were faded, and several lines of the runic geometry were either broken or transcribed incorrectly.
*Did she sabotage this?* Alan wondered. *No, if she were going to destroy information, she would have burned the notebook too. She wouldn't go to such lengths just for a copy. The original must have always been a fragment.*
He reasoned that a Travers ancestor must have restored the spell and recorded the functional version elsewhere. Torquil had mentioned Yulia used a "magic book" to cast it on him; that was the volume he needed to find. Still, even a fragmented original was a primary source of immense value, so he copied it faithfully.
He unfurled the second scroll. "The Fear Curse?" Alan muttered, stunned by the heading.
Unlike the previous scroll, this one was complete. The content was staggering. It detailed a branch of magic that allowed a caster to emit mental pulses at will, inducing primal terror in any creature within range.
Like the protection charm, it was a mind-based art. Coupled with the legends of Slytherin's prowess in Occlumency and Legilimency, it was clear the Founder had mastered the internal landscape of the psyche. Without hesitation, Alan transcribed the curse. As a tactician, he found this far more practical than a passive defense. One for the shield, one for the sword.
He took a steadying breath, pushing thoughts of the Founder's genius to the back of his mind. He couldn't afford to be distracted. He moved to the towering piles of books on the tables.
Alan was a veteran of the Hogwarts library and its Restricted Section. Ordinary texts didn't interest him. Before the summer began, he had prepared a mental list of every title available at the school. His first task was to filter out anything he could find in the castle or on the open market.
Despite Yulia's attempts at camouflage, Alan's hands moved with blurred speed. He would snatch a book, flip through its table of contents, and either discard it or add it to his "unknown" pile. Under his rapid scrutiny, the mountains of literature were quickly sorted. He was looking for the gaps in established magical theory—the places where the Travers family had hoarded knowledge the rest of the world had forgotten.