Chapter 41: Shocking! Not a Single Book in This Collection Can Pass Censorship?

"Master Sophic did intend to sell those books, but he passed away before he could," Toby said with a shake of his head.

"Master Sophic never liked reading since he was a child. In his eyes, those books were the least valuable things in existence. In fact, ever since he inherited the tower, he rarely even set foot on the third and fourth floors..."

"So, whenever he was short on funds, the first things he sold were the items in his laboratory."

Lived was shocked. In a world of magic, could there really be someone who considered spellbooks to be worthless?

Toby, having spent a considerable amount of time with his former master, had adopted the same view—that books were nothing more than scrap paper. That was precisely why he had told Lived at the start that there was nothing left in the old house; he hadn't even bothered to mention the books.

It was becoming clear why this Master Sophic had been so easily defeated by others. In truth, one could barely even call him a dark wizard. What kind of dark wizard has an empty laboratory?

However, it was fortunate that this spendthrift had started by selling the equipment on the first floor, allowing the collections on the third and fourth floors to escape unscathed.

"Take me to the third and fourth floors!" Lived said excitedly. In his view, those books were the most precious treasures in the entire estate.

...

While Toby happily busied himself cleaning the wizard's tower, Lived was on the third floor, browsing through the Somnolen family collection. It wasn't until he came across a manuscript titled *The Origins of the Somnolen Family* that he finally began to understand the history of this lineage.

Although the Somnolen family was not as ancient as other pure-blood families, they had still maintained their heritage for several centuries. To Lived’s surprise, the manuscript recorded that the progenitor of the Somnolen family was, in fact, a hag.

As far as Lived knew, hags were classified as magical creatures, though the Ministry of Magic had later categorized them under the human domain, much like centaurs or merfolk. In reality, while hags were incredibly ugly, they bore a striking resemblance to humans, appearing much like grotesque old witches. The imagery of the ugly, aged hags in Muggle fairy tales originated from them.

The founder of the Somnolen family was named Leticia Somnolen. Because she was jealous of a princess's beauty, she had fed the princess an overdose of the Draught of Living Death—the very same potion Lived had given Tom that evening. The princess had fallen into a deep, comatose sleep, only to be awakened by the arrival of a wizard. This wizard, being quite cunning, had coated his lips with a Wiggenweld Potion before kissing the princess, effectively waking her. Not knowing the wizard’s true identity, the king had then married the princess off to the young man.

As Lived read this, he couldn't help but scratch his head; the story bore a striking resemblance to the Muggle fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty. It was highly likely that this was the original story that inspired the tale.

Lived continued reading. The princess’s recovery had infuriated Leticia. However, she was no match for the young wizard and had been forced to suppress her rage. It wasn't until the princess and the wizard had their first child that Leticia stole the infant. That child became the true ancestor of the current Somnolen family.

Leticia only revealed the truth to the child years later, on her deathbed. By the time the child learned the truth and returned to seek out his biological parents, he discovered they had long since passed away, leaving him unable to ever reclaim his true heritage. Ultimately, the child chose to return to the tower, and thus the Somnolen family line began.

Having finished the family history, even Lived couldn't help but marvel. He set the manuscript aside and began browsing the other volumes. It had to be said that the Somnolen family lived up to their reputation as a centuries-old house. While they lacked the ancient lineage of other pure-blood families, their foundation was by no means weak. Judging by the manuscripts and books, the family had produced quite a few talented individuals; it was simply a pity that they had ended up in the hands of the incompetent Sophic.

The more Lived read, the more excited he became. He had originally intended only to find a manuscript or spellbook that Dumbledore would forbid him from reading, but the night’s haul had far exceeded his expectations.

After a quick scan of the third floor, Lived moved directly to the fourth. The collection there was just as extensive. The third floor primarily housed laboratory notes and magical insights left behind by generations of the Somnolen family—or books they had written themselves. The fourth floor, however, contained rare books and unique volumes collected from the outside world.

Crucially, Lived noticed a common thread between the two floors: there wasn't a single "approved" magical book in sight. It was truly a dark wizard's family; if a regular spellbook didn't have a touch of darkness to it, it wasn't worthy of their library. Lived even found a copy of *Secrets of the Darkest Art* on one of the shelves.

This meant that Lived could read and learn from everything here. However, he would need to ensure he was alone before ever putting that knowledge into practice—otherwise, he would surely be sent to Azkaban.

Lived read with great speed and intense interest. After perusing several more books, he finally set them down with great reluctance. He checked the time and saw it was already five in the morning. It was time to return; he would have to explore the rest of the tower another time. For safety reasons, he didn't plan to take any of the books with him; his memory was good enough that he could simply store the knowledge in his mind.

"Toby, it's time to go."

Toby had already cleaned the entire tower, waiting patiently without disturbing Lived while he read.

"Very well, Master Veder!" Toby said happily. He was thrilled that Lived was willing to inherit the "old house."

"Toby, remember: you are not to tell anyone about what happened tonight, or anything regarding this house! Remember, not a soul!" Lived said sternly. Dumbledore must never see these books, and Tom even less so. If Tom were to get his hands on this collection, Voldemort would emerge ten years early.

"Yes, sir!" Toby replied with equal gravity.

...

At the Hog's Head Inn, Tom rubbed his head vigorously. For some reason, his head felt exceptionally heavy that morning, as if he hadn't slept at all.

"Are you alright?" Lived asked.

"I... I'm fine..." Tom replied, shaking his head again.

"Drink this," Lived said, tossing him a bottle of Wiggenweld Potion. Tom’s symptoms were clearly the result of Toby having been too heavy-handed with the potion the night before. They had agreed on a single drop, but it seemed Toby’s definition of a "drop" was open to interpretation.

After drinking the potion, Tom felt much better and, despite himself, felt a surge of gratitude toward Lived. He had no idea that his condition was entirely the result of Lived’s own meddling. Poor Tom, played like a fiddle without ever realizing it.