Things are unstable at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A chilled feeling of unease has replaced any sense that the castle could remain a safe haven to teach and learn magic.
With the misfortunes of the previous year behind them, Fred an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A DARK DECISION
The sun was setting, as a crisp, autumn gale swept a field of tall grass, speaking the language of summer's end. Nearby, a village was nestled in the mountains. The harvest had been generous that year. Although the fresh crop of strange fruits and vegetables went unseen by the adjacent townsfolk because the village of Mould-on-the-Wold was a different sort of village. It was a wizarding village.
Families from both the town and the village kept clear of the field that separated their two worlds. For longer than any of them had been alive, dreadful tales had been spread about Greyheather Field — superstitious stories that warded off the adults of the town and frightened the children of the village. One such family saw no reason to fill the heads of their three young ones with stories of the filthy, prowling 'Muggles'. As long as they kept within sight of home, they could wander off without ever needing to fear. But on the day their youngest boy bit into a Noughty, a sweet tasting vegetable meant for the draught of anti-aging potions, the mother and father of this unfortunate magical family rushed to staunch the effects and, in their distracted state, gave their other children a very innocent, but simple direction to go and find something to do.
The oldest boy, who had just reached the age of ten, and was thus prepared to face the world unafraid, left their home and marched straight past the wrought-iron gates of the village toward Greyheather Field. They didn't know it yet, but this was the very day when the boy and his sister would learn that they, too, had the power to make magical things happen. In fact, it all began with a flower.
As he reached the field overlooking the village, the boy shielded his blue eyes from the setting sun, as golden light splashed playfully upon them. He had wild red hair and a face that could easily be called pretty. It was long and unblemished, unlike his sister of six years, who had far too many freckles — although they suited her sweet disposition and she wasn't bothered by them in the slightest. She was, however, cursed with their father's dreadfully long ears. Unfortunately, for her brother, this feature did nothing to help her listen.
"I told you to stay close," he called from the pond at the center of Greyheather Field. The boy was busy fishing out a toad with a discarded old boot that he had found in the underbrush.
"Come see!" the young girl said, with a yelp of delight.
"Just hang on..."
He lifted the waterlogged boot and the toad hopped from a cavity at the heel.
"I'm doing it. Magic!"
Dumbfounded, the boy dropped the boot into the dirty water. It sank with a burp, as he rushed to where his sister was sitting in the high weeds. The sun was low, making it hard to see exactly where she was pointing. And then, with amazement, the sister who was nearly half his age brought a dry, crumpled flower back from the dead. At her touch, its petals blossomed out in a wave, its stem flushing green and straightening toward her, as if she were the very sun, itself.
"Try something else," he said eagerly, doing a little dance. "Let me get you a magic wand!"
The boy rushed to a nearby tree. He climbed it quickly and, while hanging from an immense limb, spotted three older boys cutting through the shadows of the field, stomping sluggishly towards them.
By the look of their clothes, the boy knew that they were what his Aunt Pippy had once called, 'Muggles'. Aunt Pippy told him never to speak of it when she warned him of the Muggle people. They were savages, she had said, with fiendish little brains, red eyes, and claws that only extended at night. They feasted on the flesh of wizard children and bred with trolls. The boy was certain he'd been lied to, but as he watched the Muggle boys approaching his sister, his skin prickled.
"Stay back, you!" he shouted, breaking a twig off the tree. The boy dropped to the grass below, hurried back to his sister, and aimed the stick at their heads.
"What's that?" one of them croaked, pushing it aside.
"It's a magic wand," said the girl brightly.
"Shh!" her brother instructed. He looked at the three boys guardedly. They didn't have red eyes or claws, but they were older and seemed to be looking for trouble.
"A magic wand," impersonated the boy at the center. His soft and ugly friends were laughing as he beckoned them closer.
"You're a little witch, are you?" asked one of them.
"And this is your wizard companion?" added the other.
"Yes," said the girl, with a rather excited expression.
"Fine, then. Show us a trick."
"No, don't!" the brother warned, looking nervously at his sister.
"But I can do magic. You saw!"
"We aren't allowed! Father says," he replied, waving the stick round.
"It's only a flower."
The boys watched with stupid, heavy brows, as the young girl lowered herself back to the ground.
A faint wind blew through the weeds.
Then their eyes widened.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
