Rome was not built in a day, and neither was the National Library of France. If every expansion or renovation counted as a civilizational fault line, then the National Library of France had no fewer than eleven layers.
Kings, ministers, and scholars throughout the ages all believed that building libraries was an achievement that demonstrated respect for civilization and education. Funding had therefore never been lacking. The library had expanded upward, downward, leftward, and in every direction.
Though it was not complicated enough to be a maze, the library's symbolic significance had surpassed its practical use. Reading cards came with different levels of access for ordinary readers and academic researchers. Some books could not be borrowed by readers with only a high school education; only those with proof of a doctoral degree or higher were permitted to borrow them.
After a lifetime as a librarian, Madam Pince had watched countless curious young wizards stare at books in the Restricted Section without being able to borrow them. This time, she discovered that she was the one unable to borrow a book. After all, she had no diploma from a Muggle school.
Worse still, the library did not have enough seats. There were 1,500 for scholars and only 2,000 for ordinary readers. Arrive late, and there would be no place at all. If they wanted to read, they could only sit on the wooden platforms outside on the ground level. But public spaces were not occupied solely by readers. There were people playing football, dancing street dance, and making such a racket that it was impossible to concentrate on a book.
Borrowing books to read elsewhere was impossible too. The books available for loan could be bought outside, and borrowing them was not free anyway. A daily ticket to enter the library