Theodore Burnett did not like surprises.
Theo did like order and tidiness, which made him an excellent head librarian for the Royal College of Wizardry. Certain requests might be unusual or challenging—Theo never had worked out how young Mr Graceleigh had managed to turn that copy of Stones and Ley-Lines of England into actual stone itself, though he’d patiently undone the spell-knot and rescued the poor book—but in general his days were predictable, regulated, neatly catalogued as his shelves.
Everything in place. Magicians politely placing requests for rare back-room volumes using the forms he provided. Readers and students and researchers tucked away quietly at their own individual desks. All according to order, and if anything wasn’t he’d fix it promptly.
He preferred life that way.
