An Opus Alchymicum Vol 1: The Experimental Theologian's Apprentice

The Godson Who Lived

January and February passed in a flash. Harry felt as if he'd blinked in the snow one minute, then the first sun of Spring welcomed him when he opened his eyes again. He and Sirius attended the Duelling World Championships, took in a few Farringdon Fliers Quidditch matches at the Big Blue Tent, even got tickets to watch rugby and football games on the Muggle side of London.

Then there was all his learning with Minerva. After memorising Hogwarts: A History, and A History of Magic, Harry soon knew his rune sourcebook off by heart, too. Minerva then furnished him with a book on alchemy - A Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery, by Lyndy Abraham - and that became his preferred bedtime reading of choice, though Sirius did turn his head slightly by introducing him to the comic book adventures of Agent Cajun and the Mexican Misfits.

The highly derogatory and insulting Martin Miggs - The Mad Muggle, Harry quickly decided, was worth no more than to be the lining of Hedwig's droppings tray.

So March arrived and proved to be unseasonally warm. On the Muggle side of London, newspaper sandwich boards screamed of a global temperature crisis, of rising sea levels, and of a debate over which vacuous narcissist would be crowned the winner of something called Love Island. Harry tried to imagine that - an island made entirely of love, or for the purpose of cultivating it - and found himself oddly addicted to the concept.

When he thought Sirius wasn't watching, Harry rather bashfully thought he wouldn't mind spending some time in such a place.

But that was too weird a train of thought to dwell on for very long. So Harry busied himself with the business of reality, rather than indulging such silly and fanciful whims. He threw himself hungrily into his studies, he watched every football match broadcast on satellite television - then wondered why the magical world had no visual-based media - and listened to music from both sides of his dual-worlds.

He quickly forgave his parents for being such avid fans of The Weird Sisters, for he tuned into one of their concerts - that was broadcast live on the Wizarding Wireless Network - and was immediately transformed into a super fan. The driving, symphonic metal may have been so loud that it made the windows of the flat rattle, and gave Minerva such a headache that she had to go and take a lie down, but Harry was hooked.

This was further enhanced when Sirius bought him the latest copy of Esoter-Rock!, a magical music magazine, which featured The Weird Sisters as the lead article. Harry took one look at the beautiful, busty blonde lead singer-witch ... and immediately developed an obsession with her, one that lived in a strange part of his upper groin that Harry was fairly sure hadn't been there before.

But it was there now ... and it belonged to Miss Weird.

And so it was that Harry's new wardrobe became very black in colour, very cool and artsy-atmospheric, with The Weird Sisters legends and logos emblazoned onto almost everything he owned.

So Sirius decided that he needed to shake it up a bit, before Harry became so Gothy that he was unreachable. His solution was to treat Harry to a bespoke, hand-tailored, Farringdon Fliers travelling cloak. It would go pretty well with his Hogwarts robes, especially - Sirius pointed out confidently - when Harry was Sorted into Gryffindor, and the colours of his House badge and robe trim would match the colours of the London-based Quidditch team - which were scarlet and gold.

In Sirius' mind, there was no way that Harry wouldn't be Sorted into Gryffindor. And if he wasn't, Sirius promised, he would march up to Hogwarts and demand a re-Sorting, threatening to set the Sorting Hat on fire if it didn't comply.