Disappointment, utter and crushing disappointment.
Right now, Allen had a thousand curses running through his mind, all waiting to burst out.
And the reason was simple: not everything can survive the ravages of time.
Just like how that cute, innocent girl-next-door will eventually grow into a teenager, become a refined young lady, and one day marry someone else, everything changes with time. And just like how the girl next door won't marry you, these precious books hadn't been preserved the way Allen had hoped.
All the magical protections meant to safeguard them? Useless now.
Not all enchantments are permanent.
Right now, Allen was in despair.
So much money, so much potential, gone just like that!
But what could he do? A book's life is harsh. From the moment it's made, it's hunted by the elements, wind, insects, floods, fire, like little curses determined to drain it of its last drop of essence.
And in the magical world? Things are even worse.
Magical books aren't just written on paper. They're crafted with magic imbued during creation, that's what makes them extraordinary.
Which, unfortunately, also makes them incredibly appetizing to magical creatures.
So when Allen pulled out a half-eaten, half-digested book, with fresh worm droppings still clinging to the pages, he gave up trying to be gentle. He levitated it with a Levitation Charm.
Sure, it might damage a few fragile pages, but better that than having to dig through chewed-up remains.
With a swirl of dust accumulated over 300 years, books began rising off the shelves under the influence of magic.
With a Bubble-Head Charm cast over his head, Allen waded into the floating mess, carefully searching.
The most intact and useful books were likely at the bottom, heavier from being unharmed and left undisturbed.
This strategy worked surprisingly well, at least until one of the books tried to bite him.
There are only two reasons a magical book would survive being half-eaten:
It tastes terrible. Even magical beasts have standards, who wants trash when there's a buffet?
It bites back.
Because make no mistake, magical books may look like books, but they're definitely more than that.
Case in point: as Allen picked up one particularly intact volume to inspect it, the cover opened into a gaping maw, clamped down on a half-dead worm, and... well, he didn't need to guess what happened to the rest of it.
In the end, Allen managed to salvage just eleven books, and that included the one that ate bugs.
Compared to the massive size of the library, this was a pitiful haul.
Unwilling to accept defeat, Allen tried Levitation again, this time with more force.
And that's when something unexpected happened.
A hidden mechanism, worn down by time and magic, finally gave way.
With a sound like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard, a hidden staircase emerged behind one of the bookshelves.
A classic setup, but undeniably effective.
No wizard would expect a Muggle-style trap mechanism, after all.
Sadly for the original designer, Allen's brute-force approach triggered it by sheer coincidence.
So what came next?
Find the secret chamber. Discover the treasure. Unlock forbidden knowledge. Become god-tier. Marry a princess, a rich heiress, maybe even your childhood crush. Live happily ever after, right?
Yeah, right. Not a chance.
Allen's first move was to activate Morgana's Dark Shield, a spell that granted brief magical immunity.
Because if you've got immunity, you might as well be cocky.
Too bad the thing drained mana like crazy. Allen couldn't afford to keep it on for long.
Still, he moved forward carefully, lighting a candle in the dark, so to speak.
But it turned out all his caution was unnecessary.
He made it all the way to the bottom of the staircase without triggering any traps or defensive spells.
What he forgot, though, is that no matter how well-hidden a magical trap is, it always leaves subtle clues.
A skilled explorer could sniff out a secret room just by reading the patterns of those traps.
After creeping through a dim, twisting corridor, Allen finally saw it, a faint green glow at the turn ahead.
His heart surged with excitement.
Still, he held himself back. Step by step, he crept forward.
One step. Two steps. Three steps,
Then, at last, he reached the source of the light, and his eyes lit up.
Before him stood a circle of statues, all glittering with embedded gemstones.
Each statue was a coiled snake in a different pose, their emerald eyes glowing with magical light.
They weren't just gems, they were magically enhanced, top-grade emeralds.
Allen had no love for most Slytherins, but that didn't stop him from loving those snakes.
More precisely, loving the idea of prying out their eyes and selling them to goblins for gold.
Unfortunately, these statues weren't just for show.
Even from a distance, Allen could feel the immense magical power radiating from them.
He sighed and put that idea on hold. He wasn't stupid enough to try looting them yet.
With a bit of frustration, he shifted his gaze elsewhere.
The snakes weren't just standing there randomly, they formed a ring, all facing the center.
And in the middle of their worship stood a massive statue.
If not for the giant crest next to it, Allen would've assumed it was a shrine to some ancient dark god.
But no. That unmistakable emblem made it clear: Salazar Slytherin, the first head of Slytherin House.
How narcissistic do you have to be to build a secret statue of yourself again?
First the Chamber of Secrets under Hogwarts, now this hidden chamber in America too?
What was this guy's deal?
Allen's irritation only grew as he looked around.
At the statue's feet were bookshelves and display cases, each filled with magical artifacts and rare items.
But it was obvious, many of the shelves were already empty.
Normally, less valuable items would be placed at the edges.
Whoever stocked this place clearly had common sense.
Which raised one big question:
Where did the missing stuff go?
The answer was obvious.
It had been taken, by the heir of Slytherin herself, the one who had already kicked the bucket.
It was probably to protect this inheritance that she'd forbidden even her most loyal house-elf from entering the study hiding this chamber.
And let's be real, an inheritance left by the heir of Slytherin is one thing,
But one left by Slytherin himself?
That's another story entirely.
The former is a cheap knockoff.
The latter? Genuine, certified, official treasure.
By the light of the sun and the grace of the arcane, this is the kind of loot worth fighting over!
No, wait, screw the sun.
Merlin, this inheritance is worth stealing!
But just as Allen was about to make his move, a voice echoed through the chamber:
"Oh? A little fish that slipped through the net?"
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