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[ask-scribner]

Madam Scribner? In all the excitement over the holidays I’ve forgotten to return this book, I’m sorry. It’s only a day overdue, please be merciful

Well, well, well! If it isn't the new fifth year. Since this is your first official misdemeanour, I suppose I'll turn a blind eye. This time. But don't think I've forgotten your earlier escapades—casting spells on book piles, were you? Naughty boy.

As a reminder to behave yourself, I have something just for you: my own creation, 'The Lusty Librarian: Between the Stacks and Beneath the Covers.' Don't worry, it's a light read. I expect a thorough review in two weeks. And don't skimp on the details.

[ask-scribner]

Forgive my forwardness but when I found out this blog exists i was so excited… pleased to make your acquaintance Madam Scribner 🤓 I have a question for you: what are your thoughts on fanfictions?

Of course you are, darling—who wouldn't be? A sharp mind and exquisite taste naturally find their way to me. Now, I see your question about fanfictions as more than simple curiosity—it tells me you're already intrigued by my works. You needn't be shy, Miss Domire. Take a seat. I always welcome a curious mind, especially one so eager to explore.

Prepare yourself, my dear, because you're about to experience a reading session that will leave you utterly breathless. I've just the thing for you—a snippet from my latest naughty tale. Let's see how you handle a passage from 'Quills and Claws: The Forbidden Seduction of the Alpha Archivist.'

‘She's on her feet in a heartbeat, and then her mouth captures his with an urgency that steals his breath. Her hands are tangled in his hair, her fingertips skimming the ripple of his muscles as they flex beneath her touch. He's too caught up chasing the strokes of her tongue to give a damn where or how his clothes are coming off. She feels a cool rush of air against her legs as her skirt hits the floor. His hands find the laces of her corset, working with swift precision until it loosens and slips to the floor. She hardly has time to register the sound of it landing before his fingers are in her hair, pulling free the pins one by one. He draws back just long enough to let his ravenous gaze rake over her, leaving a trail of fire down her voluptuous body.’ "Get on your hands and knees," she whispered, her voice so low he could barely understand her. "Put your hands on the desk."

[ask-scribner]

How brazen, Mr. Waite.

Allan wanders out if the library doors with a pile of books and…. Blood? You’re eyes weren’t deceiving you, he had a smear of blood streaked across his face and a smug look to match. He just flashed a cheeky grin as he walked by and held up a book that was trying to snap at his face, but was bound with rope and twine. It’s cover was scratched and it appeared to be bleeding like an animal. Allan was unphased.

“If you think I look bad, you should see the book!” He grinned.

Umm… not to state the obvious Allan, but Madam Scribner is right there…

[ask-scribner]

Dear Madam Scribner,

I’ve always wondered whether mandrake roots are tentacle-like? Would you happen to know?

Respectfully,

A Herbology enthusiast

Herbology Enthusiast,

An intriguing question indeed. Mandrake roots can, on occasion, exhibit a rather tentacle-like quality, writhing and twisting in the most fascinating ways when properly stimulated. I suppose you could say they are slender, winding, and oh so sinuous as they dig deep into the soil, clutching it with their tender, grasping extremities. If you’ve ever felt the soft, teasing brush of one against your palm while repotting, you’ll understand the allure.

I must admit, I’ve spent some fascinating hours tending to particularly stubborn mandrakes, fondling their roots to reveal their true length. Handling them requires a steady hand, firm but gentle, as they wiggle and twist.

Shall I presume you have a particular interest in exploring such phenomena yourself? If so, perhaps you'd enjoy a private demonstration.

Respectfully yours, A. Scribner

[ask-scribner]

A mandrake is placed grumpily on the corner of the desk in the library, precariously close to a stack of overdue books. Its eyes fixate on the mistletoe hanging delicately above the entrance.

"Oh, isn't that bloody charming. Mistletoe. Romantic. Festive. Cliché as hell. Everyone's giggling and blushing under it, but do you think anyone comes over here to kiss me? No, they just shuffle past like I'm part of the bloody furniture. I'm right here! Am I not irresistible enough for a peck on the cheek?"

What do you do?

Oh, you poor, neglected little thing. If you're so desperate for attention, perhaps I could oblige with a kiss. Though you'd have to ask very sweetly.

And if you truly insist, I might even consider going down to tend to those tiny roots of yours with a gentle massage. But only if you beg properly - I do like to hear a bit of gratitude when I'm being generous.

[ask-scribner]

Oh dear librarian lady miss, what is your opinion on milk, the juice of gods?

Ah, milk - the nectar of the gods. There's something undeniably satisfying about its smooth, rich texture. I find it rather divine when it slides down and coats the throat, don't you, darling?

And, of course, it's best enjoyed fresh and abundant.

[ask-scribner]

As much as I do not tolerate such blatant disobedience in this library, I must admit, your knot work is... impressive for one so young. Perhaps, when you've matured, you might channel that craft into more productive pursuits.

But for now, another five points from Gryffindor. And I'd suggest you find a place far from my sight for the remainder of the day.

The 5-year with fluffy hair crawls under the desks in the library, tying together other students' shoelaces and giggling to herself quietly. When she gets to the desk you are standing by, Asani hesitates. Regular shoes, huh... Well, how about...

A quick spell later, your footwear transforms into these:

Oh, a little mischief under the desk, is it? My, my, bold choice, my dear. If you wanted to hear me squeak and grunt, you only needed to ask.

I must admit, it's been some time since I've worn anything so flashy. However, Gryffindor shall lose 20 points for such... audacious creativity. Let's hope next time you direct that spirited energy toward something a bit more appropriate.

[ask-scribner]

If you're that curious, perhaps I might make an exception and allow you a glimpse into my private collection, Mr. Sallow. Perhaps you'll find those missing volumes among them.

But be warned, dear, there are texts there that would make even the boldest blush and are best experienced under close guidance—and I do so enjoy a captivated audience.

Dear Sebastianus, Volume 7? Pray tell, what happened to the other 6?

Curiously, they went missing long ago. I have suspicions they may have wound up in the private collection of a certain librarian with a fetish for...rare texts.

[ask-scribner]

The 5-year with fluffy hair crawls under the desks in the library, tying together other students' shoelaces and giggling to herself quietly. When she gets to the desk you are standing by, Asani hesitates. Regular shoes, huh... Well, how about...

A quick spell later, your footwear transforms into these:

Oh, a little mischief under the desk, is it? My, my, bold choice, my dear. If you wanted to hear me squeak and grunt, you only needed to ask.

I must admit, it's been some time since I've worn anything so flashy. However, Gryffindor shall lose 20 points for such... audacious creativity. Let's hope next time you direct that spirited energy toward something a bit more appropriate.

[ask-scribner]

Shouts at the librarian with her best doe eyed innocent expression to be heard over the deafening noise of hundreds of books wailing and screeching like a horde of banshees when opened.

“Umm, MADAM SCRIBNER!! YOU WOULDN’T HAPPEN TO KNOW WHY THE BOOKS ARE SCREAMING LIKE A BUNCH OF ANGRY CATS TODAY, WOULD YOU?!”

Silence is a virtue in this library, Miss Fitzgerald—one you seem to lack entirely. If you'd perhaps paid a bit more attention in class, you'd already know the answer to this little cacophony.

But since you seem to insist on making a spectacle of yourself, my dear, you've earned yourself an evening in my personal care once again. You'll be here, shelving and re-shelving every last volume until even the books themselves are pleading for a bit of mercy.

[ask-scribner]

🕸️🔮🪦🎃🧛👻🍭🕸️

Mrs. Scriber? I could've sworn I heard singing coming from the library last night. It wasn't you, by any chance, putting a spells on people?

Well, let's just say I only enchant those who dare linger after hours. Perhaps next time, if you're curious, you might stay and see just how captivating my performances can be.

[ask-scribner]

[ask-scribner]

Ah, Mr. Sallow, ever the sweet talker. How charming. I do appreciate a young man with a taste for vintage. You always did have a way with classic literature. It seems that you know exactly what you like, Mr. Sallow, but I am certain that you can benefit from a little mature guidance.

I watched Madam Scribner scolding a house elf, telling him to leave a particular spot on one of the bookshelves alone. When I asked her about it, she said the spot was a monument to a true flicker, someone who knows how to split the pages the right way.

Was that you, Sallow?

[ask-scribner]

Miss Fialkova, my dear, I do not negotiate. Never. Now, if you think you can handle the heat of my writing, then by all means, dive in. You won’t find them as simple as Professor Binns's dull scribbles, I assure you.

The entire morning that day Lilith had a feeling that somebody was watching her. At first, she didn't pay it much attention: she never cared for stares. Did she have something in the corner of her lips past breakfast? Speak or forever hold your peace! Otherwise, it's not worth Lilith's time.

But in a while it became clear. This is not a regular stare. It's a stare of another domineering woman. What did she want with Lilith? Don't they have their own territories to take care of and prey to stalk? Lilith is no one's prey!

The Ravenclaw dives past and between bookshelves until she gets to a place dark and quiet enough. She quickly turns around, cocks her gun gets her wand out and questions:

"Face me! If it's a challenge you seek, trust me, you've seen nothing of me yet!"

(@ask-scribner)

[ask-scribner]

No need to send an owl after me, dear. I am already here. And I must say, I do like what I see.

As for my plans for tonight, I expect to see you on your knees, and by the end of the evening, I want to hear you singing my name. Let's see if that potion did more than just rejuvenate your body.

Hopefully it will satisfy my appetite.

Ah, whoever sent me this rejuvenating potion, I am happy to inform you that it did wonders! I look and feel so much younger. It takes me back to my younger years. All the passion, all the drive! I was full of it!

Time to hit the Three Broomstics! Or perhaps owl Agnes, see what her plans are or tonight!

[ask-scribner]

Ah, Miss Fialkova, so sharp, so fierce. I've simply been observing you - such fire, such passion - exactly the qualities I need in someone to review my latest work. I trust a sharp mind like yours could appreciate the subtleties of 'An Alpha's Forbidden Hunger: Slam Into Me With Authority.'

I was hoping a woman of your prowess could give me some honest feedback. Trust me, darling, it's a thrilling read. I'd love to hear your thoughts as you explore its many tantalising layers. You seem the type to appreciate a well-crafted climax, wouldn't you agree?

The entire morning that day Lilith had a feeling that somebody was watching her. At first, she didn't pay it much attention: she never cared for stares. Did she have something in the corner of her lips past breakfast? Speak or forever hold your peace! Otherwise, it's not worth Lilith's time.

But in a while it became clear. This is not a regular stare. It's a stare of another domineering woman. What did she want with Lilith? Don't they have their own territories to take care of and prey to stalk? Lilith is no one's prey!

The Ravenclaw dives past and between bookshelves until she gets to a place dark and quiet enough. She quickly turns around, cocks her gun gets her wand out and questions:

"Face me! If it's a challenge you seek, trust me, you've seen nothing of me yet!"

(@ask-scribner)

[ask-scribner]