with a lamp lengthen out the day Open Closed

The tapping of footsteps was all that sounded his entrance to the library. Try as he might to appear cool, calm, and collected, he was flustered. There was a wildness in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, briskly trotting toward a quiet portion of the massive study. Behind shelves of books, Louis could hear the scratching of quills against parchment. Something about the noise softened the beating of his war drum heart. He breathed through his nose, drawing in a gust of air and holding onto it until his lungs almost ached. Slowly, he released the tension in his shoulders and back, exhaling.

Everything he had imagined Hogwarts to be, it was, but it was so much more than that too. He never could have prepared for the wonderous showcasing of magic and fantasy that dwelled in every portion of every room. For every rattled feeling that he got, he could not help but to be mesmerized. It must have seemed foolish to see a young man roaming the castle with an expression of sheer wonder on his face. It seemed that it would never fade.

The scent of books soothed Louis. His pace slowed to something easier, less rushed, and he finally took a moment to glance at his surroundings with interest instead of amazement. The young wizard had never really been one for reading or study. He had done the bare minimum in primary school, even under his mother’s hawkish gaze and pressure to do better. It was challenging for him to find a reason to exceed the basic requirement if he was not driven by the subject. The library at Hogwarts was different, though. This was a room filled with books about magic, and he could think of nothing more interesting.

Stepping toward a looming shelf, Louis extended a hand slowly to grasp onto the binding of a large volume. He would have sworn that the book felt old. It was as though it creaked at the very brush of his fingers. He ran his other hand through his hair, sending the ends into a flyaway mess. The motion was swift, but he pulled the book from the shelf and marveled at the weight of it. Louis lugged it to the nearest table and placed it on the surface, cracking open the first few pages with intense and fervent fingers. Even the smell of it was something to behold.

The young wizard’s lips curled into the ghost of a smile. ’The Noble Sport of Warlocks’ was the book’s title. Already, Louis had found himself transfixed by the work. He read through the first page of it quickly, skimming over words he didn’t understand or couldn’t sound through his head. He was able to piece together most of it and felt his heart beat eagerly in his chest at the premise; this was a book about Quidditch.

Shortly after Louis had been told about his father’s past and what his future would hold, after the initial shock of discovering that magic existed, Louis had demanded to know everything. It had not taken long for his father to delve into the subject of Quidditch and what a rush it was to climb aboard a broom. The young boy hadn’t been able to shake those stories from his head in all the time that he waited for his owl. The idea of flying had stolen his waking thoughts and having found that book was merely a serendipitous event.

Louis stood for fifteen minutes, leafing through the pages of the book and devouring every detail that he could about Quidditch in the seventeenth century.