Chapter 12
The next day was Saturday.
When Gabin woke up, it was already nine in the morning.
The dormitory was empty. No classes today, but there was a Quidditch match.
This was the first match of the school year—and Harry's very first as Gryffindor's Seeker. Everyone else had gone down to cheer him on.
Gabin, however, had very little interest in Quidditch. It was much the same as his previous life: he'd never been particularly keen on football, even when everyone around him was obsessed with it.
The night before, he had made a point of telling the others not to drag him out of bed for the match. Let him sleep in properly.
They'd understood—though they clearly thought he was missing out. Ron in particular had grumbled at length about how anyone could possibly not like Quidditch, and how it was hands-down the greatest sport in the world.
Gabin hadn't bothered arguing. In his opinion, the real thrills were skydiving and rock climbing.
In any case, today promised to be a peaceful, ordinary Saturday—starting with sleeping until nine.
He planned to spend the morning reading in the library, then perhaps head outside to the lawns and enjoy some sun in the afternoon.
Or maybe he'd slip into the Room of Requirement to practice. He still hadn't quite mastered the magical circuits for the Unlocking Charm and Locking Charm.
After enjoying a hearty breakfast of steak and kidney pie with sausages in the Great Hall, Gabin made his way to the Hogwarts library.
The library occupied much of the second floor, lined with thousands of shelves holding tens of thousands of volumes.
It housed centuries of Hogwarts-collected books, neatly organized by subject. The most accessible shelves near the tables held ordinary texts; deeper in lay the Restricted Section, home to countless volumes on dark and dangerous magic.
The entire place was overseen by Madam Irma Pince—a thin, severe, eagle-like woman who looked perpetually underfed and carried a feather duster like a weapon. Most students were terrified of her, especially when she was brandishing it.
Yet no one could deny her genuine love of books. Her anger was almost always triggered by mistreatment of them. If you were genuinely studying and followed the rules, she wasn't stingy with help.
Just as now—when Gabin entered, she greeted him with a small smile.
"Welcome back, Gray. Still enjoying your reading, as always? Continuing with the same book?"
Gabin nodded.
Madam Pince raised her right hand.
"'Historia Magica Medii Aevi'—Accio!"
A thick tome slid itself free from the shelves, weaving between others until it flew neatly into her grasp.
The Summoning Charm—a fourth-year spell.
Gabin had just opened his magical perspective. As expected, the intricate circuit of the spell immediately made his head spin.
"There aren't many young witches and wizards left who truly love books, Gray. I hope you keep it up."
She handed him 'A General History of Magic in the Middle Ages' with genuine encouragement.
"Thanks," Gabin replied with floating words.
"Such a perfect charm for a library," Madam Pince said wistfully, watching the glowing letters. "Pity it's far too advanced for most of them."
Gabin didn't linger in conversation. He took the heavy book, found an empty table, and sat down.
As a matter of habit, he casually placed a sheet of spare parchment on the chair beside him—reserving the seat.
Madam Pince watched him quickly become absorbed in the pages and gave a quiet sigh.
So diligent, so gifted. If only he weren't a mute.
She shook her head with real regret.
Gabin opened 'A General History of Magic in the Middle Ages' not to where he'd left off last time, but to an earlier section—the one Professor Binns had covered in the most recent lesson and set as an essay topic.
It was called an empire, but in truth it was only a small island in the sea—roughly one-twelfth the size of Britain.
The island itself wasn't particularly remarkable. The wizarding world's interest stemmed entirely from the fact that it had once been home to a fully wizard-ruled nation.
Yelth.
So the island was simply named Yelth Island for convenience.
In that era, most wizards lived under persecution. Yet on Yelth Island, wizards ruled every inhabitant and established what was effectively a magical empire.
The historical impact on both wizard and Muggle society had been enormous.
But the magical empire of Yelth didn't last long. Less than a century after its founding, it collapsed completely. Every wizard on the island was wiped out, then every human inhabitant. Only ruins remained.
Through excavations of the Yelth ruins and careful study of surviving records, the wizarding world had gradually pieced together what really happened.
And the cause of the empire's destruction turned out to be—
Gabin was just settling in to review that section again when Hermione burst into the library.
Her face was flushed with urgency. She scanned the room quickly, spotted Gabin, and hurried over with rapid footsteps.
Madam Pince's grip tightened on her feather duster. Her expression turned steely.
Hermione reached Gabin's table, grabbed his shoulders, turned him to face her, and spoke in a low, serious voice.
"Gray—Harry's in trouble!"
Huh?
Gabin was yanked abruptly out of the book's world. His mind blanked for a second. He didn't even reach for his wand.
What could possibly have happened to Harry?
Quidditch didn't usually kill people… did it?
Wait—Quidditch.
It clicked. During the first match, Harry 'had' run into trouble.
Quirrell—possessed by Voldemort—had tried to curse Harry's broom. Then Snape had saved him.
Gabin was just reaching for his wand when Madam Pince glided up beside them.
"Miss Granger," she said icily, "do you perhaps need reminding where you are?"
Her eagle eyes bored into Hermione, clearly debating the best trajectory for the feather duster.
"Oh—sorry, Madam Pince! We're leaving right now." Hermione snapped back to reality, apologized immediately, then grabbed Gabin's hand and started pulling.
She was clearly in a panic—her grip was much stronger than usual. Gabin nearly stumbled as she dragged him along.
He only had time to snatch the parchment he'd used to reserve the seat, shoot Madam Pince an apologetic look, and let himself be hauled out of the library.
Madam Pince shook her head, picked up 'A General History of Magic in the Middle Ages' from the table, and returned it to its proper place on the shelf.