Albus kept his face carefully neutral as he listened, despite the shiver of curious excitement which ran through him. He rather wanted to ask exactly what Jamie was trying to achieve, but got the impression it was not any of his business.
"I assume you're heading to the restricted section after this?" He asked. The spell in question, if it existed, did not sound like anything you would find in a standard textbook. Even the restricted section might be a stretch - there were only so many things you wanted teenagers to have access to, no matter how carefully policed. Merlin, his sixth year class often managed to do quite enough damage with just the basics.
Still, he examined the man balanced on the ladder above him with a renewed interest as he spoke about the Black library. That family had had a reputation even when Albus was a student. Even now, there was still a small part of the professor which tugged him in the direction of the sort of knowledge Jamie was talking about. The part which occasionally offered up memories of fair hair and dim candlelight.
"That sounds useful," he instead replied. "It's good to have a few avenues open to you... it makes you wonder what happened to all the other private collections. We can only hope they're in this vault, I suppose."
"They used to," Albus said thoughtfully. "In my time, not that that means much here." He twisted, rubbing the gnarled ridge of bone in his nose as he glanced towards the western side of the library. "They were under the window... I can go and check. Give me a moment."
Pushing his long body away from the bookcase, Albus strode off between the stacks, hands sliding into his pockets as he disappeared into the hush of the room. When he returned, a few minutes later, it was with a small bundle of tired, dog-eared journals under his arm.
"This is all that's left." He dropped them onto the table he'd been sitting on previously. A small cloud of dust danced in the light where the journals had hit the wood. Albus frowned, pushing a few rogue strands of auburn off his forehead. "I doubt they're much use, but you never know... If nothing else, perhaps you can contact the publishers to see if they're still in print or find you some contacts."