The Greatest Kind of Magic

6. Self Esteem

On Saturday morning, Liam woke to find dim grey light filtering through the dormitory windows. Thinking it was still early, he tried to go back to sleep, but this proved impossible. When he looked at his watch he realised it was already ten o'clock, and the dimness of the light was due to the heavily overcast sky. The dormitory was empty: all the other boys were already up.

Slowly, he made his way down to the Great Hall. He had no particular desire to face Hogwarts that morning: all he really wanted to do was to stay in bed with the drapes drawn around him. However, miserable as he was, he could not ignore the rumbling in his stomach. Not even the deepest depression could put Liam off his breakfast.

He was about to sit down at the Gryffindor table when he felt a soft, hesitant tap on his shoulder. He was somewhat surprised to see that it was Eloise Midgen. Over the past two weeks, she had become somewhat more confident around Liam, but it was still a shock that she had actually worked up the nerve to approach him. Liam forced his face into a smile, afraid that if he appeared unfriendly, he would scare her away.

"Hi, Ellie," he said. "What's up?"

Ellie coughed nervously, and said in a terrified voice: "I was wondering... that is, I was... er... um... have you done your Muggle Studies essay yet?"

Liam hadn't: in fact, he had forgotten about it entirely. "No. I totally forgot. I guess I'll do it today. Why?"

Ellie blushed. "Well, I, er... I'm having a bit of trouble... um..." She blushed an even deeper shade of red, and scuffed her shoes self-consciously. "Could you, maybe, help me out a bit?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure." Liam's smile was genuine this time. "Absolutely. Why don't we meet in the library later? I was just going to have some breakfast - do you want to meet me at eleven?"

Ellie nodded eagerly. "Yes! Thank you. See you then." She scuttled off.

For some reason, the exchange lifted Liam's spirits somewhat. Perhaps it was the knowledge that somebody here at Hogwarts needed his help. Liam was not useless at everything - perhaps he had a value here after all. Or perhaps it was just the need to make a friend, however shy and reluctant. Liam had at first hoped that Harry would accept him as a friend, since they had known each other in primary school, but he soon realised that this was not to be the case. Harry, Ron and Hermione were an extremely close-knit group. All three of them, especially Hermione, were quite friendly with Liam, but he was still an outsider: the bonds of friendship in that group were too powerful for Liam to even contemplate penetrating them.

It was a similar story with all the other Gryffindors. Everywhere he looked, Liam saw friendships and groups already established, and reluctant to accept an outsider. Seamus and Dean were quite happy to talk to him, but all their conversations seemed to revolve around football or Quidditch. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were not interested in him at all, and would quickly stop talking whenever he approached them. The moment he began to walk away, they would break the silence with a burst of giggles not dissimilar to those Liam was used to hearing from Tara and her friends.

Neville was a slightly different story. As far as Liam could tell, he did not have any close friends, and he appeared quiet and shy, somebody who always lived in the shadow of his classmates. And yet, Liam sensed a certain kind of strength about him, a sort of barrier between Neville and the outside world. He was friendly enough, but Liam felt he was the sort of person who did not allow others to get too close.

Ellie, on the other hand, was just shy. Through the handwritten notes passed during Muggle Studies, Liam had come to know her as a friendly, easy-going girl, whom he rather liked. Face to face, however, she seemed terrified of saying the wrong thing. It was almost as if she thought she would get into trouble for speaking. Liam hoped that if he made an effort to talk to her, she would eventually come out of her shell.

So, in somewhat higher spirits, he quickly ate his breakfast and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower to collect his books. Hermione accosted him as he was crossing the common room.

"Liam, I've finished your books," she said. "Do you think I could borrow something else?"

Liam grinned. "More Muggle fiction?"

"Oh yes. I'm starving for it. And I got Ginny to read The Hitchhiker's Guide. I hope you don't mind."

Liam was startled. "No, of course not. But... Ginny was kind of mad at me..."

"Yeah, I know. She told me about it. Don't worry, she's not that mad. If you apologise, I think she'll forget about it."

Liam felt embarrassed. "Yeah, I didn't mean to snap at her. I was just having a bad day."

"I know, I know. I'm in your potions class, remember? What happened that day, by the way? I mean... what did Dumbledore say to you?"

"He said... Well, he told me I need to control my emotions. And..." he hesitated, unsure what to tell her about his music.

"What?" Hermione pressed him.

"Well... he said I should play my violin. He said... not many wizards are good at music. Or art, or anything of that kind as far as I can understand."

Hermione considered this. "I suppose that's true. Dean is pretty good at art, but apart from him, I don't think I know any wizard who's good at any of that creative stuff. I wonder why?"

"I don't know. Dumbledore said it was something to do with different sorts of magic. Like... art is also magic."

"I never thought of it that way. But I suppose art does have a certain kind of power, doesn't it?"

Liam nodded seriously. "Absolutely."

They entered the boys' dormitory. Neville was sitting on his bed, writing on a piece of parchment. He looked up when the door opened. "Hi, Hermione!" he said. "Hi, Liam. What are you guys doing?"

"Liam's just going to lend me some books," Hermione replied. "And then I'm going to study - take advantage of the quiet time while Harry and Ron are at Quidditch practice."

"Yeah, I should get started on some of that Charms homework. I was just writing a letter to Gran."

Hermione turned back to Liam. "That reminds me, Liam. How are you going with Transfiguration and Charms? If you want, I could help you practice some spells."

Laim swore under his breath. For a little while, he had forgotten about his impending transfer to fifth year. Hermione's offer of help was an unwelcome reminder. "It's too late," he said bitterly. "They've transferred me to fifth year."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Hermione earnestly. Liam had to give her credit, she appeared genuinely upset. "But you were doing so well in Potions! And that's saying something, considering what Snape is like."

Liam brightened a little at the compliment. "Yeah, they're not dropping me back for everything. Just Transfiguration and Charms." He tried to sound nonchalant. "It's fair enough, I suppose. I mean, I really am bad."

Neville looked up from his letter. "I'm surprised I never got held back. I'm hardly any better than you are. And you're already beating me in Potions."

Liam was puzzled. "Why do you do it, then? I thought you all got to choose your subjects."

For some reason, Neville blushed and dropped his gaze. "I need it," he muttered.

"What for?" asked Liam curiously.

Neville did not reply, but returned to his letter. Hermione broke the awkward silence by pulling an old, battered paperback out of Liam's trunk. "Hey Liam, is this any good? I never got around to reading it."

Liam looked at the book she was holding. It was his precious copy of The Lord of the Rings. Immediately, Neville's subject choices were forgotten. "That is my favourite book! You have to read it, it is, I swear, it is the best book ever written."

Hermione smiled. "I read The Hobbit when I was little, but I never got around to reading this. Can I borrow it?"

"Of course. Be careful with it though, it's falling apart. It's the first copy that I read, and I've re-read it about five times since."

"I can fix it, if you -"

"No!" Surprised at his own reaction, he quickly forced himself to calm down. "I mean... I'd rather you didn't."

Hermione was startled. "But what will happen? It's not like the violin string, is it?"

Liam shook his head. "No, I'm sure it would be as good as new. But... I'd rather just fix it with Sellotape." He was feeling slightly embarrassed now. "It's a Muggle book. It just doesn't seem right to fix it with magic."

The truth was, the dog-eared paperback was precious to him. Every crease in the pages was a memoir to the countless hours he had spent trekking the paths of Middle Earth in his head. Somehow, to erase those creases seemed like a betrayal.

Liam would never admit that, of course.

While Liam had talked to Hermione, Neville had walked over to peer at the contents of Liam's trunk. "Are all these Muggle books?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Liam. "You wanna borrow some?"

"What are they like?" asked Neville curiously.

"My books? Or Muggle books in general?"

"Both."

"Look, Muggle books in general are probably the same as Wizard books - you have to dig through a lot of crap before you stumble on a treasure. These are mostly all my favourites."

Neville picked up Liam's copy of The Hobbit, and began flipping through the pages. "Hey! This is talking about a Wizard!"

Liam smiled. "Don't worry, he's not like one of us. Muggles have some interesting ideas about magic. All of them wrong, of course. They don't believe magic is real, so it leaves them free to imagine anything they want. And I tell you, some Muggles have beautiful imaginations."

"I thought Muggles hated magic?" said Neville.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Neville, if they hated magic, do you think Muggle-born wizards would be allowed to come to Hogwarts?"

"Oh..." Neville blushed. "You're right."

Liam grinned. "Some Muggles long for magic. They feel their lives are too mundane - they want to believe there's something more out there."

"Isn't that what they call religion?"

A cynical note crept into Liam's voice. "Religion - yes, if you're lucky. Sensible Muggles turn to religion. Much worse are the ones that turn to magic. Or what they call magic, anyway."

Neville looked incredulous. "But Muggles can't do magic!"

"Of course not. But they convince themselves that they can. Like my friend Jessie. Don't get me wrong, she's my friend and all, but she's seriously misguided. She's decided that she's a witch." Liam cringed inwardly as he thought of what Jessie considered a witch to be. As far as Liam could discern, it was somebody who wore a lot of eyeliner and burned scented candles in her bedroom twenty-four hours a day. "She's gone and bought all these hokey books written by some pot-smoking hippie, and now she's learning spells out of them. The worst thing is, she's totally convinced that they work."

"But... surely she must see that they don't?

"Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you? But according to the pot-smoking hippie, magic is an art that takes years to perfect - at least he got something right - and sometimes spells may not work if you haven't yet mastered the Art. So, if Jessie does a spell, say, to make a guy like her, and he does, she says it's because her spell worked. When he dumps her a week later, it's because she must've done the spell incorrectly and it backfired. I mean, you can't argue with that kind of logic."

"So, why don't you just set her straight? Tell her what real magic is like?"

Liam grimaced. "I can't. My friends Sarah and Davey know, because we've known each other since we were little kids. But with Jessie, it's tricky. She only started hanging around with us last year, and she's great, except for the whole magic thing. See, she really takes it all seriously. And, well, she's had some problems..." he grimaced and quickly went on, not wanting to dwell on the topic, "Basically, I'm afraid to tell her the truth because I'm worried about what will happen to her if I do. She's... a bit unstable. I'm hoping she'll get over it eventually, and then I'll tell her. Mind you, she already thinks I'm a kindred spirit - what she calls a 'natural witch'." Liam cringed at the word. "I made the mistake of performing a little party trick in front of her."

"What did you do?"

"I turned water into wine." Liam grinned widely. That had almost been worth it. "I got into so much shit. I used my sister's wand, see. Pinched it from her trunk in the holidays and took it to this party. My mum had taught me some simple transfiguration spells, so I thought I'd do a bit of a Jesus. Well, it was great, everybody had a fantastic time, Davey ended up spewing his guts out in the bathtub - all in all, a very successful party. Of course, I had to endure Jessie calling me a natural witch and trying to convince me that I should learn magic with her because I was clearly wasting my talent - ah, sweet irony! But anyway, at the end of it all I stumble home, none too sober, I might add, and there's my sister bawling her eyes out and my mum waving a bit of parchment in my face. Turns out it's a letter from the Ministry saying something like 'Tara Grady, your wand was used to perform a Transfiguration spell at 8:43 pm, on the third of July, blah, blah, blah... The spell was performed in full view of seventeen Muggles. We remind you that use of magic outside of school, and furthermore, in front of Muggles, is strictly forbidden by Decree blah, blah, blah... ' In a nutshell, it said my sister would be expelled from Hogwarts if she ever did it again!" He laughed, though the memory was still recent enough to make him uncomfortable. "My mum wrote a letter to the Ministry explaining how it was me that cast the spell. She got fined seven hundred Galleons for letting me run amok with a wand. She hasn't let me forget it, either. I don't think I'll get pocket money again until I'm in my thirties."

Neville tried to look sympathetic, but couldn't suppress a smile. Hermione simply shook her head in disapproval.

Liam glanced at his watch and realised it was a quarter past eleven. "Shit - I'm late!"

Quickly, he began to stuff pens, parchment and his Muggle Studies textbook into his bag. Before he could run out, however, Neville asked him, "Hey, can I borrow a book?"

"Sure - take your pick," Liam called over his shoulder as he ran out the door. "They're all good, I promise."

***

Eloise Midgen had been in the library for almost half an hour. She had arrived early, afraid that if Liam came and she wasn't there, he would leave. Now she was certain that he had either forgotten, or deliberately decided not to show up. It was a cruel trick, which Eloise had sadly experienced before. Granted, people did not always mean to hurt her: it was just so easy to forget shy, ugly Eloise Midgen.

She cursed herself silently for asking Liam for help: she was not even sure now how she had worked up the courage to do it. How could I be so stupid, she told herself. I've just gone and made a fool of myself.

"Ellie! Hi!"

She looked up in shock: there was Liam, red faced and puffing, jogging towards her. Other people looked up as well - Liam had not bothered to keep his voice down in the quiet library. Madam Pince frowned angrily and snapped, "No running in the library! And if you don't keep your voice down, you will be thrown out!"

Embarrassed, Liam slowed to walk and came to sit down at Eloise's table. "Sorry I'm late," he apologised. "I lost track of time."

Eloise smiled nervously. She was immensely relieved now that he was here. He had not forgotten or deliberately stood her up: he had simply lost track of time. She also felt a small twinge of pleasure at the sound of the name "Ellie", though he had been calling her that almost since the first day they met. It suggested a familiarity, which Eloise had rarely experienced with anybody, not even her family. Eloise had always been expected to call her parents "Mother" and "Father". They, in turn, had never given her nicknames, even when she was a baby. It had always been "Eloise", or even worse, "Eloise Agatha". Eloise fervently hoped that Liam would never find out her middle name.

"So, what was the problem?" he asked her as he pulled out his quills and parchment. "I haven't even started my essay yet. I figured I wouldn't have too much trouble with it."

"Oh, well," began Eloise, silently berating herself for blushing, "I don't really understand how the voting thing works. I mean, do they vote for a person, or a party? I don't understand the whole party business at all."

Liam launched into a somewhat muddled explanation of Muggle politics. Eventually, after realising he wasn't making any sense, he conceded that he did not understand it all that well himself, as he had often skived off the social studies classes at his Muggle school.

Eloise could not help being fascinated. From the moment she met him, she had longed to question Liam about what Muggle school was like, but had always been too shy to do so. She had asked him a few things during their rounds of note-passing in class, but it was difficult to get a satisfying answer when you were confined to writing on scraps of parchment under the desk.

There was so much that was strange about Liam, not least the fact that he considered her, Eloise Midgen, worth talking to. There were so many things, which Eloise had always taken for granted, which to Liam were either novelties or sources of great irritation. She remembered an incident during the first week of term, when Professor Downie had noticed that Liam was writing with a ballpoint pen. Eloise had noticed the strange pen earlier, but had not asked Liam about it. Professor Downie, however, took it from Liam and showed it to the class.

"Have a look everybody - here we have a genuine Muggle artefact. It is what is called a ballpoint pen. It is based on a fairly simple technology and allows one to write without the need to dip the pen into ink. It is a prime example of the ingenuity of Muggle thinking."

However, as he returned the pen to Liam, he said quietly, "I suggest you get some quills and ink, Mr Grady. All your exams will be written using a special anti-cheating quill. You will not be able to use your pen. You will have trouble if you do not get used to writing with a quill."

"But why do wizards have to use quills?" protested Liam. "Pens are so much easier! I just don't see the point of using quills at all!"

Downie's tone was somewhat colder as he replied. "We use quills, Mr Grady, because we have always used quills. We are wizards, after all. If we start using Muggle pens, what will we be doing next? Playing football?" He chuckled at his own joke.

But Eloise was left wondering: why did they have to use quills? Clearly, the Muggle pens were much more practical - what was the harm in using them?

Liam, too, had been dissatisfied with Professor Downie's response. In fact, he seemed angered by it, and had walked out of class that day without a word to anybody. The threat of being forced to do exams with a quill, however, seemed to have worked, because from that day onwards, Liam had not used the ballpoint pen. He was clearly not happy about it, though - even now, she saw him mutter a curse under his breath as he dropped a spot of ink onto his parchment.

That was another thing about Liam - he swore a lot more that anybody else Eloise knew. It was a habit, which somehow seemed inconsistent with Liam's otherwise friendly nature. Eloise wondered if Muggles swore more than wizards.

"Why don't you talk?" asked Liam suddenly, startling Eloise out of her thoughts. "I mean, you're happy to talk to me on paper, but face-to-face, it's like you're scared of me."

Eloise blushed. "I'm not... scared of you," she stammered. "I'm just... not used to talking to boys." She blushed again.

"We're not that bad, you know," he said with a smile. "Do you have strict parents, or something?"

Eloise was startled to hear him say this. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Something about your mannerisms, I guess. People with strict parents are often a bit shy. Scared of talking to people - especially the opposite sex."

"Oh, well, I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind me talking to a boy. But you're right, they're always telling me not to 'bring shame on the family'. But... that's not why I'm shy." Immediately, she kicked herself for saying this. She already knew Liam well enough to know that he would not leave the topic alone now.

Sure enough, the next thing he said was, "So, why are you shy, then?"

Eloise sighed. She knew he would want an answer, and she could feel her resolve wavering. Why not tell the truth? After all, what harm could it do?

"Well... boys don't really like me." She felt so stupid; she wished Liam would stop looking at her face, boring into her with his keen brown eyes. "They tease me, okay? 'Fat Eloise' and 'Ugly Eloise' and stuff like that. They don't want to know a girl with pimples and a crooked nose."

To her dismay, Liam laughed. "Your nose isn't crooked!"

She realised that his laughter was not malicious, but warm and sympathetic. "Jesus, some things are the same the world over," he said. "My friend Sarah used to get teased, it was really sad actually, because she had a crush on this guy and he called her a 'smelly porker' when she asked him out! She cried for like, a week and swore she'd never ask another guy out again. Stupidest thing is, she's not even all that fat. My mate Dave fancied her and now they're going out. But after that guy called her fat, she tried to starve herself to lose weight! It was so stupid."

"She starved herself?" said Eloise incredulously, for a moment forgetting her own troubles. "Isn't that a bit... extreme?"

For some reason, Liam's face darkened. "You'd be amazed what some people will do because of low self-esteem." He began to smile again. "Don't let shit like that get to you. Just because someone teased you once, or even many times, it's no reason to give up on yourself."

Eloise didn't know what to say to that. She felt a strange, pleasant feeling spreading from her chest and out to the rest of her body. She realised that she was smiling broadly. Somehow, Liam's words had made her feel better about herself than any magical beauty treatment she had ever tried.