Harry Potter: The Last Heiress of The White Family

Chapter 33: The Library



The morning sky over Beauxbatons shimmered with a pale lilac hue, streaked with the silver threads of high clouds. It was the kind of morning that promised quiet discovery rather than drama, and for Eira , that was a welcome change.

She walked beside Ana through the soft gardens behind the Ombrelune dormitory, both girls wrapped in their pale-blue robes, chatting idly about breakfast, last night's dreams, and the curious behavior of the enchanted painting in their corridor, which kept attempting to offer unsolicited romantic poetry.

"Today," Ana said with a gentle grin, "we're going to the library."

Eira glanced sideways. "You sound very excited about that."

Ana's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Books don't laugh at you when you mess up your wand movements."

That made Eira smile. "True. They just sit quietly and let you come to them."

As they approached the east wing of the château, Eira noticed a plain wooden door, half-hidden beneath an arch of ivy. It looked like a modest entryway, unremarkable—certainly not the sort of place that would house one of Beauxbatons' great secrets.

"This is it?" Eira asked.

Ana nodded. "Wait till we go in."

Ana pushed the door open, and the moment they crossed the threshold, Eira's breath caught.

The library was not a room—it was a world.

The space opened into a vast, multileveled atrium that stretched far beyond what the external architecture could ever allow. The walls glowed with soft amber light, and the air was filled with the quiet, comforting scent of parchment, beeswax, and lavender. Above them, a domed ceiling swirled with constellations that shifted slowly across the sky, even though it was morning. Dozens of floating staircases moved of their own accord, forming bridges between levels. Some led to alcoves wrapped in ivy, others to wide balconies lined with tapestries or glass-walled study chambers.

The entire library pulsed with books and beautiful arts.

Eira's eyes went wide. "This is… unbelievable."

From the outside, the library had looked no bigger than a classroom. But inside, it seemed to stretch forever.

Ana giggled softly. "Told you the first day when I visited here I nearly passed out from the amount of amazement I felt ."

The first floor alone contained hundreds of neatly labeled sections: Beauxbatons History, Beastology, Herbalism, Astramagics, and a tall glass-walled corner simply labeled Whispers. At the far end, a spiral staircase wound upward through a silver arch etched with ancient runes. Above them hung floating signs: Divinatoire, Enchanted Languages, Modern Magical Theory, and—Eira gasped—Muggle Science & Philosophy.

She pointed. "They… have muggle books here?"

Ana nodded. "Yup. Some professors believe magic isn't the only way to understand the world."

Eira stared. "But… I thought wizards didn't care about muggle things."

"Most don't," Ana said, her voice quiet. "But Beauxbatons is different. They say knowledge belongs to everyone. Magic or not."

Eira's heart stirred at that. Something about this place—its openness, its beauty—made her feel at ease in a way few other places ever had.

"Come on," Ana said, pulling her toward the center of the hall. "I'll show you the machine."

At the heart of the library stood a circular dais upon which rested an elegant device unlike anything Eira had ever seen. It looked like a blend of ancient clockwork and living alchemy: dozens of tiny brass arms shifted across a circular plate engraved with symbols, glowing letters, and diagrams of planets and flowers. A crystalline orb pulsed softly in its center, responding to the presence of those nearby.

A sign above it read:

ALCHEMICAL INDEXOR

Whisper what you seek, and it shall find your path.

Ana leaned forward and whispered, "Transfagration Techniques, Beginner Level."

The brass arms rotated with a soft ticking sound, and the orb glowed bright blue. A small card emerged from the side slot, hovering in the air in front of them. Upon it, in elegant script, was written:

Section: Transmutational Arts, 2nd Floor, West Wing

Shelf: 7-B, "Shaping Nature: A Beginner's Guide to Metaphoresis"

Eira's eyes sparkled. "That's amazing. It's like a librarian and a map all in one."

Ana smiled. "And it's never wrong."

Together, they climbed the staircase to the second floor, where the West Wing opened into a smaller, quieter space filled with silverwood shelves and floating candles that never dripped. The Transmutational Arts section was filled with books of every color and size—some leather-bound, some glimmering with enchanted ink, some that pulsed softly like sleeping creatures.

They found their book—"Shaping Nature"—and settled into a nearby reading alcove shaped like a crescent moon, covered in velvet cushions and surrounded by soft-glowing ivy.

"This place is like a dream," Eira whispered, running her fingers over the gold-embossed title.

Ana opened the book and began flipping through pages. "Let's go over yesterday's class. Maybe it'll help us in the next one."

They spent the next hour reading, whispering to each other excitedly when they found notes about emotional resonance in Metaphoresis, or the idea that intention—when pure—could influence transformation faster than technical precision. One paragraph explained that young wizards who had experienced deep emotional events sometimes performed better in early transfiguration spells, due to the raw clarity of their intent.

"That explains your rose," Eira said, nudging Ana with a grin.

Ana blushed and rolled her eyes. "And yours was beautiful too. You put your heart into it."

Suddenly, the floor beneath them creaked, and Eira looked up to see something tall gliding silently between the shelves.

It was the librarian.

At first glance, it resembled a tall human figure in dark robes. But upon closer look, its face was made of sculpted gold—smooth, expressionless, and radiant. Its eyes were orbs of sapphire light, and its hands, though gloved, moved with unnatural precision. Beneath the robes, faint inscriptions glowed faintly against polished metal limbs.

"That's the Alchemical Librarian," Ana whispered. "They say it was created centuries ago by Beauxbatons' founders—part automaton, part homunculus. It's alive, in a way."

Eira stared, fascinated. The librarian moved like flowing water, carrying books, placing them gently, scanning shelves without pause. Despite its lack of a human voice, there was something deeply gentle in its movements. It felt… wise.

"I want to live here," Eira muttered, half-serious.

Ana laughed. "You'd never leave."

They continued their reading, exploring spell diagrams and case studies, until Eira's stomach growled loudly, betraying her.

Ana giggled. "I think that means it's time for lunch."

They closed the book carefully and returned it to its shelf. As they descended the staircase, Eira glanced around the library once more—students of all ages seated in reading boxes, tiny lanterns floating gently above their heads. There were study tables carved from marble, windows that opened onto impossible views of starlit oceans, and walls of enchanted books that whispered quietly when passed.

"Is it weird that I feel safe here?" Eira said softly.

Ana shook her head. "Not weird. This place… it welcomes people like us."

"People like us?"

Ana looked at her. "People who carry too much inside. Who need quiet places."

Eira was silent for a moment. Then she smiled. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Always."

As they stepped outside, the magical hum of the library faded behind them. The door clicked softly shut, again appearing like nothing more than a modest wooden entrance tucked beneath the ivy.


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