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Josephine instinctively steps back from the shelf in the library as a ghost drifts past.
She rolls her eyes slightly before refocusing on the task at hand. She seeks more books on defensive magic, or any spells, really.
Her aim is to uncover spells that are perhaps outdated, ones that might be less familiar to others.
Scanning the shelf with a practiced eye, she swiftly selects a couple of volumes before her gaze flickers to the restricted section. Could there be hidden treasures there?
Of course, obtaining permission is a requisite for accessing any of those books. But the potential knowledge within is worth the effort. Perhaps there are tomes detailing spellcraft from different regions, untouched by the looming threat of dark forces—forces that will eventually encroach if Tom Riddle succeeds in his ambitions.
With the books in hand, Josephine makes her way to the counter. Just as she is about to pass by the shelf, something catches her eye.
On the other side, a table is strewn with books, and Regulus sits there, engrossed in his reading. His eyes flit rapidly across the pages.
She considers greeting him, but her attention is drawn to the book he is perusing. It appears ancient, its pages worn and stained.
Taking a small step forward, Josephine leans closer to the gap of books on the shelf, trying to discern the text. Though the words are barely legible, she can make out that it is a book on dark arts.
Her eyebrows lift in surprise.
It isn't unusual for him to be reading such a book, but she can't help but wonder what has piqued his interest. What drives him to delve into the subject matter?
The book appears ancient enough to have originated from the restricted section, and given its subject matter on dark arts, it likely belongs there. But how did Regulus gain access to that section?
Who granted him permission?
Unless he stole it. Not that Josephine can judge, considering she herself stole a book from there—the one on Horcruxes. She didn't return it either, and likely never will.
Regulus suddenly halts in his reading, his hands freezing on the page. Josephine's eyes narrow.
The page contains a mention of Horcruxes.
Oh, fuck.
Perhaps he doesn't notice the word? Maybe there is something else of interest on the page?
Her hope dwindles as his finger trails beneath the word, muttering it under his breath.
Well, it means nothing. He isn't a Death Eater. He couldn't possibly know about such things.
Taking a deep breath, Josephine swiftly turns on her heel and opts for the long route to the library counter. There, she efficiently checks out her books and stows them in her bag.
