The sun at its highest peak, reflecting through the windows and into the library holding trillions of shelves and books, like a never ending view of them, reaching through miles and miles, tall and elegant and different from the regular library you have come to know.
Severus arranged some books on the shelves, before taking the ones he needed and walking towards the arbiter's office, just at a large colorful window bringing forth light rays due to the sunlight.
William Basker Darkmore seated on his chair as he went through mountains of books, but he wasn't focusing on just the work he had at hand, but a particular one, with a back made of silver, as he wrote against it with his quill.
'It's been 700 centuries and I have roamed the mortal realm every hundred years, in search of a Fairy, but to no avail. It is either I'm too late or a fairy doesn't exist in that timeline...'
