Replicant

Replicant

I am not a killer.

But I have killed.

The old man at passport control scrutinises me with tired eyes. I know what he's thinking. Another kid, young for his age, uniform's a bit old-fashioned, probably off on a trip, wish I was, passport seems all right.

If only you knew.

The passport is all right, though. So are the tickets. A little Transfiguration here, a tap of the wand there and I am a Muggle citizen, with full documentation and matching rights. The irony kills me. But at least I'm not likely to be found.

'I have to ask you some security questions.' He doesn't look up.

I fix a smile to my face. 'No problem.'

'How old are you?'

'Seventeen.' But I was born four months ago.

'Place of birth?'

'Cheltenham.' Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. An accident involving a misplaced spell, a final battle and a snake. Trust me, you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

He flips through the passport pages. 'And you're a British citizen?'

'Yes.' No. I don't know. What nationality is an escaped Horcrux?

'Reason for coming to the United States?'

'School exchange.' I'm running from Lord Voldemort.

'Have you been to the United States before?' He's looking at my passport and I don't know I don't know the answer. I look into his eyes and pull out the information I need.

'Never,' I gush. Young for his age. 'I'm really looking forward to it.' I look around, wide-eyed. 'I can't believe I'm actually here!' The lines on his face relax, just a little, and I don't need to rifle through his mind to know what he's thinking. Kids. God bless 'em. I remember being like that once.

'Have you ever been to England?' I ask. He shakes his head. 'Never left Chicago,' he tells me, and the weary look is back in his eyes again. 'Except just the once, when we went to Florida.'

'I'd like to see Florida,' I say. 'I want to go to Disney.' I don't know what Disney is, but it's in his head. Something about a giant mouse. He seems to think it's fun. 'You'd love England,' I tell him. 'I hope one day you get to go there.'

He smiles properly for the first time. 'I'd like to see Buckingham Palace,' he admits. 'And the Queen of England.'

Better go quickly, then, I think, because you don't have long. If you think the security situation now is frightening, you Muggles aren't going to believe what's round the corner.

'OK, son, put your finger there. Now the left hand.' I do as I'm told. 'That's great. Now I want you to take off those glasses and look into the camera here.' He's silent for a moment. 'That's weird.'

'What is?'

'Your eyes. They look red on the monitor.'

I shrug. 'They look normal to me.' I'm four thousand miles from Voldemort's Ministry. I have to risk it.

He doesn't feel the fingers that come crawling into his mind like mist, doesn't hear the whispered imperius. His face slackens. As he picks up my passport I take a good look at his name badge, just in case. I can't afford to leave any loose ends.

He hands the passport back over the counter. 'That all looks in order. Welcome to America, Tom.'

I smile brightly. 'Thank you.'

--