A Tale of Two Wizards

Chapter Two: A Train Ride

If you had been standing on the corner of Charring Cross Road and Rothschild Way on July the nineteenth, you would have been witness to a most curious sight. In the warm dusky evening, just before the streetlights come on, two slender boys slipped out of a doorway, clad in ankle length robes and carrying small cauldrons, like the kind that might come from a costume shop.

As you are very likely American, your first thought would have been, "It's not Halloween, what are those crazy kids doing?" You then would have shrugged to yourself, and turned your thoughts to what you would be doing that evening. Even if you are not American, your reaction would have been something similar, unless you are what is commonly known as a "busybody."

Even more than by spells, it is by this that the wizarding world was kept safe. Long ago, wizards may have been intent on covering up every hint at their existence, but as society progressed, the common Muggle became more and more complacent towards their surroundings and learned to witness events meant for wonder without a gasp. They simply began to mind their own business, and how much they miss. It is by this that the wizarding world was kept safe, and it was by this that Sam Gower and Chad Minaya were never found, for good or ill.

888

All the days between July the nineteenth and September the first passed in a sort of paradoxical slow blur. While the hours inched by, Sam found that the reality he once took for granted was rather out of focus. Just how many of these people, standing on the corner as he played their requests, carried the same secret he did? How many of those people, with their hands thrust in their pockets, clutched a wand and desperately wanted to use it?

Of course, there was always the chance that his view on magical restriction might have been a bit skewed since it was a rather paranoid old cashier at Flourish and Blotts that introduced the young wizards to the evils of Muggles and how magic must never be used or talked about in their presence, or around their "eliktronics," or in front of their moving picture machines, or at all, as long as they were under seventeen and unsupervised.

As he thought about it, Sam decided that it really was Chad's fault. After all, he was the one who opened a book entitled Dastardly Drollery for the Devious Minded and layered the old coot's lips with some kind of gluey sludge. It was quite impressive, in a disgusting kind of way, until it was discovered that said old coot couldn't breathe through her nose. Good thing that the assistant cashier knew how to fix the spell. In his head, Sam replayed the moments in the alley many times.

For all that, though, the days did pass. In late July, two train tickets came by owl. The tickets claimed to be for Platform 9 ¾, which seemed a little strange, but the boys were now willing to accept it as magic. By mid-August, Chad had managed to scrounge up two trunks, which he claimed he bought at a second hand store in the Alley. Sam didn't ask any questions.

At last, September the first came. Both boys were up by six-thirty, and both felt woefully unprepared for this trip they had anticipated for two months. Chad sat atop his trunk reading The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). He twirled his wand between his fingers in a sort of nervous gesture while his eyes rapidly skimmed the page. Sam went through his luggage for the third time, which was truly pointless, as the cellar was bare.

"Sam," Chad said, suddenly.

"Yeah?" replied Sam, turning to face his friend.

"Abluere!"

Sam threw himself flat on the floor, instinctively trying to avoid the spell. His efforts were in vain, as the Cleaning Spell found its mark. For several seconds, Sam writhed on the floor, until he realised that he wasn't in any pain or missing any appendages. Slowly, he got to his knees and looked at his hands. They were now their natural beige colour.

"That worked well," Chad remarked as he cast the same spell on himself.

Sam was mildly surprised to see that the other boy's complexion was still dark, even with most of the dirt gone. However, he was not so surprised that he wasn't angry about having a spell cast on him, without warning, when they weren't even supposed to use magic. And there was the fact that Chad clearly did something different than what was described in the book. Despite the warnings, Sam had tried one of the spells and it hadn't created so much as a spark.

"Have you lost your mind! That spell could have done anything!"

"Don't be ridiculous; I knew what it was going to do. See, it's right here." Chad held up the open book with the information on it.

"You don't know what you're doing; there's got to be more to it than that. I mean, what if you pronounced the word wrong and blew my brains out, or something?"

"Then I suppose I would go to the train station covered in grey matter," Chad replied flippantly. Sam clearly didn't find this funny, so Chad relented. "The wand motion and the words both have to be right, I think. I probably couldn't kill you with just a little flick." He waved his wand carelessly to emphasise the lack of effect. "Anyway, the pronunciation is in the book. See? Ab-lure-æ."

Sam was about to reply, but there was a sharp rap on the cellar door. Both boys froze. Sam's eyes darted to the window, but breaking the glass to get out would cause too much noise; they'd be caught for sure. After what seemed like hours of silence, a soft hoot came from the other side of the door. Sam almost collapsed in relief, but Chad motioned for him to be quiet still. He silently leaned against the door to listen, trying to discern human breathing or a rustle of clothing. Carefully, he cracked the door. A feathered grey head peaked in, and then extended its leg through the crack. Chad took the letter and shut the door without a glance at the owl. He tore the official-looking seal on the envelope. The enclosed letter read:

Dear Mr. Gower,

We have received intelligence that two Cleansing Charms were used at your place of residence this morning at thirty-eight minutes past six.

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside of school, and further spell work on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).

We would also like to remind you that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.

Enjoy your holidays!

Yours Sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office
Ministry of Magic

Chad's laughter as he read the message worried Sam, who took advantage of his superior size and snatched it.

"Mr. Gower?" he read in stunned disbelief. "How'd you make them think it was me?"

"I didn't do anything," Chad said thoughtfully, though amusement still edged his voice. "Maybe...but I don't know." He glanced at the window where sunlight started to stream in. "We should probably go."

888

Evidently, Tuesday the first of September was the day that everyone left for boarding school. The boys managed to catch a bus and haul their trunks aboard ("I should have looked up that Shrinking Spell the cashier used," muttered Chad.), and found that the vehicle was packed with other children and trunks. Luckily, it was not a long ride, as Sam had a difficult time dodging the questions about where he was going to school. "I don't know" didn't seem to be good enough for the overly social. Chad sat completely unbothered, watching the street pass under the bus.

Platforms nine and ten were easy enough to find. They were, as expected, located right between platforms eight and eleven. Nine and three-quarters, though was notably absent. Chad didn't seem fazed, but sat down on his trunk to wait. Sam did likewise; he knew the other boy must have some idea what he was doing and wouldn't care to explain. Chad's plan soon became apparent. He was just waiting for someone to inadvertently show them the way. Their oblivious teacher showed up soon enough in a tall blond girl. She carried a cage of some sort, while a man dragged a wheeled trunk behind him. The girl quickly hugged the man and the woman beside him before glancing both ways and throwing herself into the wall between platforms nine and ten. But she didn't hit the wall. The girl was gone, and when Sam could finally drag his eyes to where the man and woman had been, they were gone, too.

Quickly, both boys had dragged their belongings over to the barrier. Sam gave it a push, expecting the stone to fall away, like it did in the Leaky Cauldron, but the wall was quite firm. Chad pushed against it as well, and it still didn't move. The smaller would-be wizard tilted his head (a quintessentially "Chad" gesture) and thought.

A bit discouraged, Sam gazed across the tracks to where people who just exited the trains gathered. A man weaved in and out of the lines of patrons, looking distressed. Another leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, apparently waiting for someone. A group of women edged towards a station café. Sam had shifted his gaze to a group of young children when someone shoved him into the wall hard. He braced himself in anticipation of the impact, but none came. Instead, he stumbled beside a scarlet engine swarming with cats and owls and children chattering loudly.

Chad came through the barrier with a slight rushing sound. No doubt he was quite pleased with himself, but Sam's tolerance with being the test dummy was wearing thin. Without a glance back, he hauled his luggage into one of the carriages and took the first empty compartment. As he was unable to lift the trunk into the storage space, he slid it into the seat across from him. The train whistled, and Chad soon appeared. He slid his trunk next to Sam's and then sat in the opposite booth.

Neither boy spoke for a while; Sam was still annoyed and Chad was soon lost in his own thoughts. With one final whistle, the train left promptly at eleven. At first, it wound through London in the most unusual of ways, like the builders hadn't really been sure where the track was going. It was hard to tell from inside the train, but Sam was almost certain this was for secrecy's sake. The rails straightened out once the city was behind.

"We're heading north," Sam stated quietly as he saw a sign out the window.

Chad shrugged as though he wasn't really sure what to do with this information. Sam resumed watching the English countryside. There wasn't much to see. The train was moving too fast for the scenery to be appreciated.

"It occurs to me now that we need to establish our stories," said Chad after some time. "You know, if someone asks us where we're from or who our parents are or any other such nosy question."

Sam stretched his shoulders and leaned against the back of the seat before answering. "My parents are John and Marian Gower and we live in Brent, London, though why this information would trick anyone, I don't know."

"We aren't trying to trick the teachers, just the rest of the students," said Chad in defence of his plan. "In class, the best thing we can probably do is try to blend in."

"Which will invariably cause me to stick out," Sam pointed out, a bit moodily.

Chad nodded once, acknowledging that this was probably a valid point. "I'm not sure how to fix your knack for trouble, but I know that we can't be caught. Don't give them any reason to try write home, or anything."

"Why are you so intent on secrecy, anyway? God forbid, we bathe and eat regularly."

"I don't want to live in an orphanage. You didn't like it much, did you?"

Sam snorted slightly. "It wasn't exactly an orphanage, though there certainly were enough of us there. And it wasn't near as bad as you think of it. As I recall, I didn't leave the house intentionally. I just couldn't find my way back. I doubt that batty old woman ever even realised I was gone."

"In any case, keep your head down." Chad's imperious tone didn't carry near its usual weight, probably because deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous.

Sam rolled his eyes, but nodded. "I'd bet you anything whoever's in charge already knows everything we'd try to hide. It can't get much more personal than 'Far corner of the room, cellar in the alley.' What's your cover story going to be, anyway?"

"I live in Brent with my mother, Eldora, who is a Muggle. I already told you that you needed to read everything you can find on being a wizard, right? Ollivander seemed to think you understood everything that was going on."

"Yes, you mentioned that. And I still hold that I'm going to mess this all up before the week's through."

"I told you, just..."

Their directionless conversation was interrupted by a kindly woman selling snacks. Chad fished around in his pocket for change and bought one of everything she was selling, which was largely candy. The lady asked if Sam wanted anything, and then left after he shook his head.

"Like I was saying, Sam, just don't do anything outlandish. All those kids you saw standing outside the train are going to the same place as us, and all you have to do is act like them. It's not hard." Chad tore off a piece of pasty chewed it contemplatively. "I don't think I've ever had pumpkin before. I'm not sure if I like it or not." He torn off another piece and handed it to Sam. "Here, try a bit."

Sam was surprised to find that the pasty was warm. It was pretty good, he decided, except that there was a little too much spice in the filling.

"Oi, get back here, ya great coward!" Several people were shouting as a door slammed somewhere close by. Someone muttered a few strange words and then a thick-set boy slipped into Sam and Chad's compartment and sat atop Chad's trunk. He lay a finger across his lips and then pressed his ear against the wall. After several seconds, the boy leaned back and laughed.

"Got 'em, the evil snakes. That'll teach 'em to not sabotage my potions; ha, they'll get more if they try."

Sam glanced at Chad, who raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. Sam sighed slightly and asked the obvious question. "Who are you?"

"William Bradley, Ravenclaw, at your service. I don't think I've seen you two before, are you first years?"

Seizing the opportunity for information, Chad answered. "Yeah, this is our first time at school. What's a Ravenclaw?"

William laughed again, this time sounding slightly condescending rather than slightly insane. "Oh, yeah, I remember back in first year. Absolutely no clue what was going on. Ravenclaw is one of the four houses you can get sorted into. Pretty much anyone you ask will tell you it's the smartest house, and with good reason. The house average is an E in Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. No one else is even close."

Trying vainly to recall his schooling, Sam couldn't remember where an "E" placed in the grading scale. As he thought about it, he became unsure that it was even a grade.

"Oh, houses?" Apparently Chad had continued his interrogation.

"The others are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave and honest; they're generally all right. They've got a set of twins who are hilarious. Some of 'em can be a bit stuck up, though. All about honour and valour and the like. Hufflepuffs, they're sweet-natured as can be, but cry at the drop of a newt's eye. And considering the abundance of newt eyes in Hogwarts, Hufflepuffs can become rather bothersome."

Sam thought he saw Chad's eyes flicker his way, but they didn't linger, as William continued his assessment of the four houses. "Slytherins should not be mixed with Gryffindors under any circumstance. It just brings out the worst in both houses. Slytherins are cunning and manipulative, and really can't stand Gryffindor's inability to be subtle. Actually, they really can't stand anyone. Gryffindor's just the worst. I know some sixth-years have a hobby they call 'Hufflepuff hunting.' The whole house has been tainted since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

There is nothing to spark a person's interest like the idea of knowing something they shouldn't. Even though it turned out to not be such classified information, Chad's eyes couldn't have been any brighter than when he asked, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

The Ravenclaw's face paled slightly as he whispered, "Your kidding, right? How can you not know who He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is?"

Sam found this a tad contradictory, but Chad replied with his all-purpose excuse of, "I'm Muggle-born."

William relaxed a bit and grabbed a cauldron-shaped cake. He chewed it thoughtfully before beginning.

"Well, I suppose you really should know, being a Muggle-born. Some people still believe in his ideals; you'll have to watch your back. From what I hear, the whole thing started back in the sixties or seventies. Some crazy bloke started this thing about pure-blood supremacy, and started killing Muggles and Muggle-borns, as well as anyone he considered dangerous to his mission."

He stopped and took another bite of cake. "Good stuff, this cauldron cake. Anyway, for about ten years, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was the terror of everyone not associated with him. He only died because he messed up trying to kill a baby named Harry Potter. I was only three at the time, but I remember everyone being really happy. I guess He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a remnant of the time when everyone was scared of him."

"It's certainly a cumbersome name," Chad wheedled.

"Some call him the Dark Lord, but it's generally associated with Death Eaters, er... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers."

"But no one knows who he was? His actual name?"

"You can go ask someone else if you want that, I'm not talking. Taboo or no, some things just shouldn't be meddled with." The Ravenclaw shook his head to emphasise his point and grabbed a bag labelled "Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans." Chad didn't press, but offered him candy frog that was hopping around the cabin. William took it and pressed his ear to the wall again. Then he smiled. "I think I can be going now. It sounds as though all the Slytherins are back in their compartment. I bet it smells nasty. See you kids around." The boy grabbed another cake on his way out.

"Well, that was certainly informative," said Chad.

"He ate all the food," said Sam.

"Ah, well, that can't be helped." Chad waved it off, and then cracked a small smile. "I'd bet anything you'll be in Hufflepuff. Ha, Hufflepuff. It sounds like a brand of bathroom tissue."

"Yeah, yeah, you would put the worst spin on it possible. I'd bet anything you'll be in Slytherin, and they'll be all blood crazy and steal from you for a change." Chad laughed, which wasn't exactly what Sam was going for, but at least it wasn't a mocking laugh.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time," a voice from outside in the corridor called. "Please put your robes on and leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the castle separately."

Sam's stomach sloshed violently as he changed, for reasons beyond the train's rapid slowing.