Aileen swung open the door to Obscurus Books and stepped inside, musing over the fact that much of her time was spent in bookstores and libraries these days. In just 48 hours, she’d floo to Egypt and begin an excavation of the latest tomb discovered outside of Cairo. Luckily, they’d found it before the Muggle researchers could swarm the place and muck everything up with their primitive tools- as of right now, to Muggle eyes, it looked like any other patch of desert. And that was the way Aileen wanted to keep it!

Smirking at this thought, she automatically strode over to the section of books concerning ancient cultures and practices. Aileen had visited Obscurus a few times whenever she couldn’t find what she needed in Flourish and Blotts, but most often, she ordered materials by owl. This afternoon though, she was already out and about after having lunch with her mother (which was never a pleasant experience) and so she needed a distraction from the headache that was Cullodena.

Running a finger along the spines of the books on the shelves, she finally pulled out a large tome that weighed as much as her pampered cat, Crabapple. The title glinted off of the lights hanging from the ceiling: Ancient Pharaohs, Alchemy, and the Quest for Eternal Life. It couldn’t hurt to get in a bit of “light reading” before she traveled to Cairo and started working long hours. The tombs they had just uncovered held a wealth of new information, and Aileen looked forward to heading the excavation with a small team of curse breakers, alchemists, and scholars like herself.   

These particular tombs were said to hold a sect of Egyptian wizards who were the most obsessed with life and death, who had pushed the boundaries of magic the farthest, and who had fallen the most tragically. They had worshipped phoenixes, treating them as idols and gods, so that as time passed the creatures dominated all aspects of art, ritual, and culture. The wizards strove to rid disease, strengthen muscles and organs, and finally, to preserve their bodies when they died. To this day, St. Mungo’s owed a few notable cures to the discoveries made by these Egyptian wizards long ago, but what many people weren’t aware of, was the extent that the cult had delved into dark and morbid practices. Aileen suspected, along with other scholars, that their obsession with the cycle of life eventually became their ruin, and that perhaps even the phoenixes, the “gods” they loved, were so repulsed by these activities that they abandoned the wizards.

Aileen frowned suddenly and scanned the titles again, wondering where the second book on her list was located. It had been written in the forties and was technically unfinished, as the author had died mysteriously before completing the last chapter. No other works on the cult had been written since. The book definitely wasn’t in this section, she soon realized. Aileen reluctantly peered around the aisle towards the sales counter, questioning whether she should ask for help or not. She had little respect for the staff at Flourish and Blotts, but her experiences ordering by owl from Obscurus hadn’t led her astray, yet. Her book orders arrived on time and contained what she’d asked for, which she appreciated.

Perhaps The Cult of the Phoenix: Beliefs and Practices was in a restricted section, or another area she hadn’t thought to look.

The morning had progressed rather slowly so far, in Zavier’s opinion.  A couple of customers came and went, and some hadn’t even purchased a book at all.  Instead, those who hadn’t had chosen to simply leaf through the pages of a few books resting on the shelf designated to fictitious titles.  Once or twice that morning, he was quite tempted to step out from behind the counter and urge the bookstore’s potential customers to actually buy something instead of browse around empty-mindedly.  But, he managed to hold his tongue - barely, at that -, and watched bitterly as Obscurus became something more along the lines of a tourist attraction rather than a bookshop.

He hadn’t been asked for assistance or called away from the counter since his shift started earlier that morning, so about an hour into his day, he brought out the book that he’d brought with him from home and had opened it up to the page he last left off on. The Dark Side of the Wand, a work of non-fiction that he’d gone out to Hogsmeade to retrieve only a week before.  He was a frequent visitor of the Owl Post there, but only because he had subscribed to a select number of authors, and in return for his membership - which was paid for by month -, he received newly-released titles written by said author.  Of course, a majority of the books he was set on purchasing were directly related to the Dark Arts - hence the book he was reading at that very moment -, but he was interested in auto-biographies, as well.

The bell above the front door rang out non-ceremoniously and he glanced up, watching as a blonde-haired woman rushed into the store and over to one of the shelves.  She seemed to be intent on finding a specific title.  The day’s first customer, perhaps?  He hoped to Merlin that was so.  He watched the woman over his rectangular black-framed spectacles, marking the page he was on before he closed his book.  Pushing it to the side for later use, he stood up straighter to look like an actual clerk rather than a mere cretin.

She glanced towards the counter, and seemed to be caught between either asking for help or finding her desired book on her own.  She supposedly chose the latter. 

“Help you, miss?” he asked softly, moving out from behind the counter.  ‘Adorned’ in a black robe and the glasses that he always wore on the job but nowhere else, he looked like a cross between a stern college professor and a beachgoer - minus the tan, clean-shaven face, and - well, the surfboard.

Clack, clack, clack… The sound of stilettos was unmistakable in the enclosed space. The noise they made against the smooth, polished tiles was enjoyable; to Jacqueline it sounded almost relaxing. At least the pounding of her tiny feet was something she knew, something she recognized and understood. London, on the other hand, wasn’t. Sure, she knew the streets, she knew some of the faces, but she didn’t know what was going to happen next. Jacqueline didn’t like the unknown; in fact, she had spent years of her life entertaining seers, palmists, even a rogue centaur at one point. She full well planned on pestering the divination diva at Hogwarts for more information.

Hogwarts. The bane of Jacqueline’s existence. She was most certainly not looking forward to the semester’s start. New was not something Jacqueline handled well, and she’d been around long enough to know that change was imminent, that it was already happening within the school. She didn’t know how she was going to fare, trying to learn so many children’s names; and the professors too. It wouldn’t be so hard in years later, she would know the students returning to Hogwarts, as well as the professors. She would only have to learn the first years, and their undying annoyances. That wouldn’t be so bad.

Truthfully, beneath the hard exterior, Jacqueline enjoyed teaching. Nothing else could rightfully compare to the thrill she got when she was filling the minds of the future generation of witches and wizards. It was about time they filled their heads with something other than pixie dust. Sighing audibly, the soon-to-be professor glided down the aisle, picking up and replacing items.

Her simple black dress slid smoothly across her body as she walked, creating a most odd sensation. It seemed like this store had books strode everywhere, or at least not where Jacqueline thought they should be.

 “Help you, miss?”

“You most certainly may,” Jacqueline called from two rows over. She knew that the staffer wasn’t speaking to her, but she actually needed the assistance, and that’s what the help was there for. In a few short strides, she was standing before the most unusual pair. “I’m looking for your history section. Help a poor girl out?” Her French accent was thick, a perk the man was sure to love. She barely even glanced at the girl.

The clacking of high heels made Aileen’s spine stiffen instinctively. She threw a glance over her shoulder, hoping that karma hadn’t sneaked up to bite her (or more likely, glare daggers into her back), but luck was on her side today. The glimpse she saw of the woman two aisles over looked nothing like Analiza Snark!

Aileen let out a sigh of relief and was about to answer the man approaching her, but she was too slow. A commanding voice rang out from the bookstacks and then a French woman with a shock of white hair appeared before them.

“I’m looking for your history section. Help a poor girl out?”

She was somewhat amused by the woman’s tone, who was certainly old enough to be Aileen’s mother, and appeared older than the Obscurus clerk. Her bearing was dignified and her black robes looked to be high quality though, which gave Aileen pause. If she’d appeared frumpy, meek, or low class, Aileen’s reaction would have been less… gracious.

“I have a book I’d like to purchase,” she told the clerk, showing him the title for a moment. “And another that doesn’t appear to be in the right section.” She’d never admit to being unable to find something. It had to be misplaced or mislabeled! “When you get a chance, of course,” she finished with a polite smile, nodding at the older woman. Aileen privately wondered why the woman couldn’t look at the signs above the stacks and find the history section on her own, but then again, she couldn’t expect everyone to be as self-sufficient as she was. Perhaps the woman was just looking for an excuse to talk to the clerk, who reminded Aileen of a brooding poet in dark robes and glasses.

Fighting back a smirk, she stepped away to wait by the counter, still close enough to the stacks so she could listen in on their conversation. She enjoyed people-watching and could use some entertainment, after all.

”I’m looking for your history section.  Help a poor girl out?”

Before the woman could get a word in, another customer, an older-looking woman with white, cropped hair stepped out from behind one of the shelves and approached the pair.  Her question was edged with arrogance, a trait that Zavier had developed over the years.  That was lost on him, though; if you asked him, the woman simply asked Obscurus’s clerk as to the whereabouts of the history section.  Of course, if she were to simply follow the several signs that were hanging down from the ceiling, she’d see for herself where said section was.

“Right behind you, ma’am,” he replied politely, nodding over her shoulder.  “If there’s a specific title that I can help you find, just let me know.  I’ll be right back.”

He strode back up to the counter where the other woman was, wearing a sincere apologetic expression.

“I apologize for that, miss,” he said.  “Now, you said that there was a specific book that you wished to buy?  What’s its title?  Who’s the author?”

Aileen glanced up quickly when she heard the clerk approach, almost disappointed that she didn’t get to listen in on an exciting conversation, but she waved him off when he apologized.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she stalled, sneaking another glance at the title of the book on the far side of the counter. It was The Dark Side of… the Wardrobe? No, too long. Word? Ah, wand! The Dark Side of the Wand. Aileen wondered if the clerk had put it aside for a customer and cocked her head at him questioningly. However, she decided she’d rather find what she was looking for before she pestered him about other topics.

Aileen smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’m looking for The Cult of the Phoenix: Beliefs and Practices. It was written by Benjamin Burton and published in 1949. Unfortunately,” she sighed a bit, as if the misfortune had happened just to spite her. “…The author died before it was finished, but it’s still the most recent and comprehensive source on the ancient Egyptian Phoneix cult.”

She paused and glanced over at the section the French woman had asked for earlier. “Perhaps it is in the History section. Or even a Restricted section.” Aileen widened her eyes at the clerk for dramatic effect. “It wasn’t the most cheerful bit of research, you see.”

Setting the Ancient Pharaohs book on the counter, she purposefully left out the reason why she wanted to delve into such research. Most people didn’t expect her to be a scholar of any sort. Aileen assumed it was because she didn’t fit the stereotypical, unfashionable mold. However, she was in a light-hearted enough mood that she didn’t mind getting a surprised reaction if he asked more about it. She also didn't mind correcting people- it must be the future professor in her!

The meeting at Gringotts had gone much faster than he had expected, and he was pleased to find that the repairs on the manor would be finished ahead of schedule.  Mind you ahead of schedule only meant that he might be living in the manor instead of the gate house sometime next summer.

Dressed in tan khaki pants, a pair of brown loafers, and wearing the light summer robe with lime green trim over the navy blue blazer, Kendall Fleetfoot now found himself with time before meeting Morrigan, and since he had time, might as well work on his research projects. Thus he found himself not in Flourish and Blotts, but in Obscurus.

It appeared to be a busy day as he recognized Professor Lumpkin off to the end of one isle, and someone he assumed was a student, or at least recent graduate patiently waiting at the counter.  Shops such as Obscurus Kendall had found over his years of fieldwork were generally the same.  Dark wooden walls, richly paneled in mahogany or walnut with walnut book cases, row on row.  The isles often narrow, almost too narrow to squeeze past someone already browsing.  Runner rugs on the  floor held in place with brass  edging, long ago tarnished from damp footwear, and scuffed from the abuse of years.

There was also a smell that could be associated with shops such as this, faint traces of magic in the air, a bit of ozone mixed with damp parchment and the smell of India ink.  It was better than any library he had ever found himself in, including the Library at Alexandria when he spent that one summer in Egypt many years ago now while still apprenticing.

Today’s trip was to look for books on the Inca and Mayan nations of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula.  They should be relatively easy to find, he hoped, since their spines would be easily discernable by the runic glyphs they used, not too unlike the Hieroglyphs of the ancient Egyptians.

As he moved into the second isle, he had heard the last words the young woman at the counter had uttered about the specific title she was looking for.  Something about the Cult of the Phoenix.  There was something oddly familiar about that, but Kendall just couldn‘t put his finger on what exactly it was..  

How rude. How very undeniably rude. Jacqueline wasn’t blind; she only needed glasses when she read. The section was obviously not where Jacqueline felt it should be and she really didn’t feel like scouting out the aisles for information. Plus, when staff took you to where you wanted to be, you had someone there to answer your inquiries about specific titles. Jacqueline felt it was terribly bad taste to just point her off and let her roam for herself. Next time she had a need she would definitely be shopping elsewhere. No, she didn’t exactly know the exact book she wanted, just what the contents should be.

“Yes, I’m looking for The Cult of the Phoenix: Beliefs and Practices. It was written by Benjamin Burton and published in 1949. Unfortunately… The author died before it was finished, but it’s still the most recent and comprehensive source on the ancient Egyptian Phoenix cult.”

Jacqueline had just turned toward where the man had pointed when he overheard the other customer’s voice. An Egyptian cult? Jacqueline’s Department of Mysteries background kicked in and her curiosity reached its peak. “Actually…” She said, turning back to face the couple, “That’s the exact title I was looking for!” Okay, so that was a lie, but if she wanted to know what the book was needed for, she had to lie a little bit.

It wasn’t like she could just go up to the woman she’d never met and strike up a conversation that personal. She’d just have to do it the hard way. She heard someone else enter the shop, a familiar face, oddly enough. Jacqueline didn’t take the time to meet people, unless they could do something for her in return. It was that other professor at the school… Whatever his name was… Fleegood? Foghorn? It didn’t really matter, Jacqueline wasn’t about to leave present company to go ask him. “I wasn’t sure exactly where it would be, I thought the History section would be as good a place to start as any. You see, I’m trying to refresh my familiarity on the author, Mr. Burton. I’m planning on doing a class on him when the school year starts back up.”

Both of these women were quite unco, in Zavier’s opinion.  They were seemingly kind and simply wanted a copy of the exact same title - something that he’d never had to deal with in the past; two customers in Obscurus at the same time, seeking out the exact same book.  He wasn’t very familiar with the History section of the bookstore; people rarely bought, let alone looked at anything from those shelves.  He’d never heard of the title that the two women were looking for. The Cult of the Phoenix: Beliefs and Practices?  It sounded like a title that a harebrained man or woman would use for a bit of light reading.  But, he wasn’t one to talk; he’d never read it himself, and he had to admit, it sounded vaguely interesting.

“I’m sure it’s in the History section,” Zavier stated, nodding slightly at either woman.  “Can’t say I’ve read it.  Nor have I heard of an author named Benjamin Burton.  But, if we both have it in stock - and it hasn’t been yielded to a different shelf, I should be able to find it...

“I’ll help you in a minute, mate,” he said to the man in the second isle.  He strode into the History section and began to skim along the titles on the top shelf, having to look up to read them.  Given the sheer size of Obscurus’s stock, he knew that it would probably take him a minute or two to see if they had the book or not.

"I must say," he spoke as he peered over his spectacles.  He was near-sighted, so looking through his glasses now only blurred the words on each book's spine.  His words were for them both.  "It certainly sounds like an interesting read.  Might I ask what it's about?"

Moments earlier, Aileen’s main worry had been that the book was out of print, or that Obscurus simply didn’t have the title in stock. It wouldn’t be so horrible if it couldn’t be found, she had reasoned, waiting for the clerk to direct her to the right section. Yet when the white-haired woman piped up in that grating French accent, claiming that she needed the exact same book, Aileen suddenly thought the matter to be of great importance. She raised her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes, while her blood boiled.

“What a coincidence,” she commented airily, her smile becoming strained.

When the woman went on, mentioning that she wanted to do a class on Mr. Burton when the school year began, Aileen’s lips compressed to the point where her smile looked more like a grimace. She let the clerk respond and shot a warning look at the man who had just entered the shop so that he wouldn’t even think about interrupting. Then she followed the clerk into the high rows of stacks.

Aileen tried to study the French woman discreetly, wondering if the class she taught would be in France, or Merlin forbid, Hogwarts. Many positions had opened up for the fall, including History of Magic since Knox Greyfriar had announced his resignation. It annoyed her very much that this newcomer (even though Aileen would be a new professor as well) had decided to look for her book, which very few people had even heard about, and she would teach a class on Burton as well. The nerve! She didn’t like the competition, not when she hadn’t even made her mark at Hogwarts yet. A paranoid part of her wondered if she’d stumble across this professor in Egypt too, hovering over her tombs with a greedy eye.

She shook her head and looked at the clerk when he spoke again.

"It certainly sounds like an interesting read.  Might I ask what it's about?"

Here was an opportunity that she couldn’t pass up! “Not many people have heard of the Phoenix cult, except a small group of Ancient Egyptian scholars,” she told him, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “However, the Cult of the Phoenix actually had a similar belief system to other Egyptian wizards… they worshipped gods and goddesses, believed in the afterlife, practiced divine kingship and mummification. The difference is, well, because of their location they had a close relationship with phoenixes, and over time, thought of the birds as gods. They became obsessed with healing magic, youth potions, perfecting and preserving the body. But then, as a result of this…” She paused and pretended to think for a moment, tapping her chin with her finger.

“Well surely, this woman here can tell you more.” Aileen tilted her head and smiled at the woman, purposefully putting her on the spot. She wanted to know just how much she knew about the topic and how she’d put the research to use. Aileen hated the thread of insecurity snaking up her spine and secretly hoped the woman would feel a little flustered.

She started to scan the titles in the history section. There was one thing she knew: if the book was here, she was getting it. She didn’t care if there was only one copy, or if every other customer in the store pitched a fit. It was hers, and that was that!

Jacqueline had been around for quite some time, and in that time she had studied many cultures and histories. She knew well the cultures of many ancient peoples and could recount the histories of beasts and beings throughout the murky waters of time. She knew deep and ancient magic beyond the scope of normal witches and wizards, but as for the Phoenix cult Aileen spoke, Jacqueline knew not.

She knew how to enter a cursed tomb and could decipher ancient Egyptian tomes, but she simply had no idea what the Phoenix cult was, what they were about, or even if the members were human. That teensy little fact wouldn’t be brought up with the two in her company.

“Not many people have heard of the Phoenix cult, except a small group of Ancient Egyptian scholars. However, the Cult of the Phoenix actually had a similar belief system to other Egyptian wizards… they worshipped gods and goddesses, believed in the afterlife, practiced divine kingship and mummification. The difference is, well, because of their location they had a close relationship with phoenixes, and over time, thought of the birds as gods. They became obsessed with healing magic, youth potions, perfecting and preserving the body. But then, as a result of this… Well surely, this woman here can tell you more.”

Jacqueline hung onto every word that flowed from the young witch’s mouth. Her words were like gold, a weapon to use against her when she least expected it. She was aiding Jacqueline in her quest for knowledge, and she didn’t even have to open a book! Then the conversation stopped. Jacqueline realized a second later that she had been addressed, and probably looked foolish standing there with her eyes glazed over, trying to commit everything she had just heard to memory.

“Of course!” Jacqueline said, stumbling over her words, “But I’m a little rusty on the subject, hence why I need the book.” She said while sighing. “The cult of the Phoenix holds the history for the quest of immortal life. Because of their obsession for health and beauty they soon started studying the alchemy to create la pierre d'immortalité. What you would call The Stone of Immortality. We know that such a stone can exist, though the Phoenix cult hasn’t been able to achieve their goals. It is said that famous alchemist Nicolas Flamel used many of the ideals set forth by the Cult of the Phoenix when creating his Sorcerer’s Stone. Evidence behind that has yet to be proven, though I’m sure that’s a bit off. I think it may be more beneficial if our friend here continued.” She said, smug with her lie. You didn’t actually have to know the information, as long as you could make something up and make it up well, even the most knowledgeable scholars would doubt their life’s work.

Kendall couldn’t help himself when he heard mention of the immortal Nicholas Flamell.  Without stopping his search for the volumes he was looking for himself “Ah another get Mayan find!”  He raised his voice slightly and coughed, mostly because of the dust he had raised.

“I hate to intrude, but your comments about the origin of the Sorcerer’s Stone are not accurate.  It is surmised that the Book of Abram the Mage is where the directions for the Stone which provides the elixir of life came from. Nicholas and Perinelle Flamell were the guardians of both the stone and the book.” Kendall came out from the stacks of books carrying three that were of particular interest.

“There are a great many cults or as one might refer to them ‘religions’ who have quested for immortality.  Think of the Mayans who I am studying currently.  They were of the belief that they could achieve everlasting beauty and perfection never again to age, by covering themselves in liquid gold.  Forget the fact that the melting point of twenty four carat gold is one thousand and sixty four degrees Celsius and that when they finally melted the gold into a large bath… they burst into spontaneous combustion upon attempting to bathe in it.” There was no fascination in the morbidity of such a ritual.

Kendall looked between the women, the older more severe looking by the expression in her eyes was calculating what the young wanted with the book, while steely determination filled the eyes and face of the younger.

“Your author has written other books however.  I have a first edition of the work he did on the Tibetan monasteries.  The development of the Shao-lin Gong-Fu as not only the martial art it is known as today but from the Chi-Gong ancient magics of the monks.  It was fascinating work, but was nothing compared to learning from the Shao-lin themselves.”

He turned to the elder of the two. “I’d be hapy to oblige and allow you the use of my text for your studies.  I am sure it is less morbid and most likely more appropriate to your curriculum?” Kendall left the question unstated of what she really wanted this particular book for.  

When she had arrived she seemed to just be drifting through the stacks, not looking for something particular.  Obviously something had changed.

“I must say, I’m not very familiar with ancient Egyptian cults of any sort,” Zavier broke in.  It took him a great deal to keep from glancing at the older woman as he spoke.  It was blatantly obvious now that she hadn’t a clue on Earth what she was talking about.  Obscurus’s newest customer joined in on their conversation, adding what sounded like legitimate information to the entire mix. 

Well, it was either that, or the man’s piece was inaccurate and falsely biased.  The clerk was leaning more towards the former.

“I’m afraid that if we do have the title you’re searching for in stock,” he added, “that she will be the one to claim it.”

He gestured towards the blonde-haired woman.

“She was the first one to bespeak the Cult for purchase.  If it so happens that it is - ah!”

He pulled a thick, hardcover book from the shelf wiped his sleeve over it.  He frowned, seeing that he had collected all of the dust.

“We have a ‘first come, first serve’ policy in place here, miss,” he told the older woman.  “However, I would be glad to point out some other titles that may interest you.  Perhaps I could suggest a few alternatives for you to teach your class with?”

There was the faintest, briefest quirk on the side of his mouth.  It took every fiber of his being to keep himself from smirking.  The man had tarnished this woman’s seemingly innocent nature.  At least, he had in Zavier’s eyes.

He held the book out for the blonde woman to take.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, miss?” he asked.  “Or will that be all?”

Aileen was looking more and more like she’d just tasted something sour. That something just so happened to be the blatant fallacies pouring out of the woman’s mouth. Nicolas Flamel?! Really? Oh, she wanted to interrupt, even humiliate her, but she bided her time until Jacqueline had finished speaking. Then, she could point out her many errors all at once. Revenge was sweet.

However, just as she’d opened her mouth, prepared to disqualify all her statements, the stranger she’d noticed earlier spoke up. Aileen gave him another warning look. Had he not seen her glare at him a few minutes ago? Apparently, he wasn’t easily intimidated, and immediately came right out with it.

“I hate to intrude, but your comments about the origin of the Sorcerer’s Stone are not accurate.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk and she glanced at the older woman, gauging her reaction. This was just too perfect. Next time, the French professor or whatever she was might not be so quick to pretend she knew something she didn’t. If that was what she called being ‘a little rusty on the subject’, Aileen was afraid to wonder how she got a teaching degree. Though, it was very strange that the woman wanted the exact same book without knowing what was inside it. The suspicious part of her concluded that Jacqueline was feigning expertise so she could get involved with the Egyptian tombs discovered very recently. Many scholars were aware that something big was going down in Cairo, but few knew what.

Her eyes narrowed. Over her dead body! Now, the Mayan scholar at least seemed knowledgeable. He accurately listed the other titles that Burton had written. Aileen nodded at him, impressed.

Once he was through embarrassing the woman for her, Aileen smiled at the man, ignored the French woman, and turned to the clerk again, hoping he had caught all that.

“I’m afraid that if we do have the title you’re searching for in stock,” he added, “that she will be the one to claim it.”

It appeared he had! There was a reason she’d gone to Obscurus instead of Flourish and Blotts.

She couldn’t help the triumphant, smug expression that flitted across her face when he found the title and explained the ‘first come, first serve’ policy. Aileen just shrugged apologetically at the woman and took the book. Brushing off a layer of dust to check the publication date, she quickly decided that this was the right one.

“I really did need this,” She told the woman with a little laugh that was as insincere as her shrug. “I’m leaving on an excavation trip to Egypt in a few days and this will be extremely helpful,” Aileen patted the book, just to rub it in, and looked at the clerk when he asked if there was anything else.

“Oh, no, that’s all. I left the other book on the counter so it’s just those two,” she informed him brightly, her mood changed for the better.

Aileen started to follow the clerk but then paused and looked over her shoulder. “Out of curiosity, what subject will you be teaching?”

Glancing at the other customer, since she was curious about him as well, she waited for the woman to reply. With any luck, she was only visiting from Beauxbatons! Aileen couldn’t imagine her teaching at Hogwarts- not after the spectacle she made of herself with the Burton book.

How could any man know anything about Flamel? Sure, his statements were seemingly accurate, though Jacqueline believed them to be seriously flawed. How could any British man claim to know more about a French wizard than a woman from the same descent? “Ah, as I said, I am a little rusty on the subject, however, I’m not entirely stupid on the subject. Flamel, along with his wife, Perenelle, did possess the writings of Abram the Mage, however, as there was only one copy of the book in existence, and it went out with Flamel, how could you possibly know what was in it? And even if you did, then please explain why there aren’t philosopher’s stones scurrying around the country? Yes, it may be that the book held untold secrets about cheating death, but we know that Flamel had other sources, for example, Albus Dumbledore.” Jacqueline began to see red, there was nothing she hated more than someone claiming to know more than she did, and if this guy wanted to tussle with words, well then Jacqueline was right there with him.

“I’m sure you’re correct in your statement that Burton composed other scripts; however, those aren’t of any interest to me, now are they?” Her glare, if possible, turned even icier, “The other tomes published by Burton are just that, published. They’ve been edited and changed many times before fulfilling the demands of publication. His latest, unfinished novel is the only one that was published as is. No edits, exactly as Burton had written it. Obviously if I’m studying the LIFE of Burton, I’d like to see what he’s really like; I’m not studying his works.” Jacqueline managed a smirk as she finished her tirade,

 “Alright then, it appears I’ll need to be shopping in a competent shop if I’m to get what I desire,” Jacqueline had turned to leave, haughty and unsatisfied, when she was addressed.

“Out of curiosity, what subject will you be teaching?”

“History of Magic.” She said simply, without even turning to face the pair at the counter. It wasn’t really a secret anymore, she’d already been hired. So what did it matter if she let a woman that she’d probably never see again in on the secret? Finally, she stole a glance over her shoulder, “I’m taking over from some crackpot named Greyfriar. From what I hear he was a real loon.”