The Greatest Kind of Magic

13. The Worlds Collide

Liam stared out of the car window at the Muggle world. Little Whinging hadn't changed since he'd last seen it. The shops, the playgrounds, the neat rows of identical houses with their manicured lawns - all were just as Liam had left them. It was dinner-time, and the windows glowed warmly in the cold December evening.

They drove past the imposing structure that was Stonewall High. Liam's old school had been named after a large, grey stone wall - the remnant of some fortification dating back to the Middle Ages. The wall hid the school buildings from the road. In the darkness, it loomed ominously over passers-by. Liam twisted around in his seat to watch it disappear behind.

"Liam, you're squashing me!" whinged Tara. "Gerroff!"

Liam settled back in his seat. "I wasn't squashing you. You're just being a pain."

"Am not."

"Are, too!"

Tara stuck out her tongue. "Dee-too. And I am C3PO. Human-cyborg relations."

Liam grinned. "So you still remember your classics. I see they haven't brainwashed you fully."

"You're barmy."

Liam twisted around to face her. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Barmy?"

"Yeah!"

Liam grinned wider. "I'll show you barmy."

Before Tara could react, he had pinned her against the car door and started tickling her mercilessly. "Say you're sorry! Say you're sorry!" he commanded, laughing at his sister's high-pitched squeals.

"Liam... Stop it..." panted Tara, in between peals of hysterical laughter. "Stop! Liam! Muuuuuum!"

Mrs Grady turned around to glare at her children. "For Merlin's sake, Liam! Stop that. You're acting like a five-year old. And Tara, stop screaming!"

Reluctantly, Liam released his victim. By the time they both managed to stop laughing, they were pulling over in front of an old, ramshackle terrace, in one of Little Whinging's poorer streets. The house was partly hidden from view by a tall, overgrown hedge, but a lamp beside the front door glowed a warm yellow, welcoming the family home.

Mr and Mrs Grady levitated their children's trunks out of the car and up the stairs to their rooms, while Liam and Tara stretched their stiff legs. They had been travelling all day - it was good just to be outside.

The December air, however, quickly forced them into the house. Tara immediately bounded off to raid the kitchen, but Liam hung back, looking around at his home of sixteen years. He realised he was truly taking it in for the first time.

You see something every day, you take it for granted, he thought, as he examined the photographs on the walls, the books on the shelves and the television on its rickety table. You never realise how strange it all is.

And Liam's house was strange indeed. When he was a small child, it had been quite ordinary, with moving photographs on the walls, a talking clock, a rug that migrated between rooms according to its whims.

Now however, the house was marked by years of contact with the Muggle world. The telephone had been the first acquisition: Liam's parents had been forced to buy it when they enrolled him in a Muggle primary school.

Other things followed: the television, the radio, the still photographs from Liam and Tara's primary school. Liam's own room these days was full of electronic equipment: the computer, the CD player and of course, Liam's beloved keyboard. The only magical thing about Liam's room was the soundproofing, in place for his privacy and his family's sanity.

Liam sank down on the ugly purple sofa in front of the television. The sofa sighed in contentment and moulded itself into a shape which was comfortable for Liam. Liam grinned as he remembered all those fights with Tara over who got to sit on it. When Tara went away to Hogwarts, Liam had the sofa all to himself, but he rarely used it. He missed the fights.

"Back for Christmas, are you, boy?"

Liam sat up and grinned at the painting above the fireplace. "Yes, Grandma."

The witch in the painting was so archetypically witchy, she could have come off the cover of a Muggle children's book. She was actually Liam's great-grandmother, but she was known simply as Old Grandma Grady.

The old witch was a bottomless well of wisdom and practical advice, which she would hand out to anyone who was willing to listen. Anybody careless enough to linger for too long in front of the fireplace was likely to be treated to a long lecture on the correct way to skin a Boomslang, or the virtues of Ogden's Old Firewhisky for the treatment of common colds.

"You're looking peaky, boy. Don't they feed you in that school of yours?" croaked the painting. "In my day, Hogwarts used to feed us proper. Now a boy goes away and comes back all thin and sickly. What's the world coming to?"

"They do feed us, Grandma," Liam protested, still grinning. "They feed us heaps!"

"Hah!" snorted Grandma Grady. "Don't smirk at me like that, boy. I know an underfed lad when I see one. Who's the Headmaster there these days?"

"Dumbledore," Liam replied. "And he's very..."

"Aberforth Dumbledore? That goat-loving lunatic? My my, what is the world coming to?"

"It's Albus Dumbredore, Grandma," corrected Liam.

"What? That snivelling little brat? He's no better! I remember him, nasty little weasel, used to pull my pigtails, he did..."

"I'm going to watch some telly, Grandma," said Liam, as Grandma Grady started muttering about nasty little boys who pull girls' hair. He knew she could go on like this for hours, and there was no point trying to talk to her until she'd finished going through all the grievances of her schoolgirl days.

Before he could find the remote, however, the phone rang.

After four months at Hogwarts, the mechanical regularity of it sounded strange to Liam's ears. For a moment, he just sat there, listening to it ring, before running to pick it up.

"Hello?"

A familiar voice greeted him excitedly. "Liam! You're back!"

A smile spread over Liam's face. "Jessie!"

"When did you get here?"

"Just now. Like, ten minutes ago. Nice timing."

"Oh... well, I'm becoming more attuned, you know. Somehow I knew if I called now, you'd be there."

Liam felt his happiness at hearing Jessie's voice evaporate. "Come on, Jess... you were just lucky, that's all."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Liam shuffled from foot to foot.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jessie said finally. "Magic has changed my life."

Liam almost laughed, though he knew it wasn't funny. Magic has changed my life, that's for sure.

"Jess... don't rely on it too much, that's all I'm saying," he cautioned, trying not to sound condescending. Apparently, he failed miserably, because when Jessie replied, her tone was cold.

"I know what I'm doing."

You have to tell her. You have to tell her the truth! urged Liam's brain. But it wasn't that simple - Liam had not forgotten Davey's party. He kept Jessie in the dark about the wizarding world because he was terrified of how she might react when he told her the truth. How are you supposed to tell someone everything they believe is wrong?

Liam closed his eyes and sighed. He had just got back; he'd barely even said hello. Now was not the time for this. "I'm sorry, Jess," he said wearily. "I'm bloody exhausted. I don't know what I'm saying."

Jessie replied, her tone much softer: "It's okay, forget about it. Hell, I don't wanna argue with you when I haven't seen you for four months!" The smile crept back into her voice. Liam relaxed.

"Yeah, it feels more like a year," he said. "What's been happening here?"

"Oh, you know. School, school and more school. Bloody A-levels. They're making us take General Studies, can you believe that?"

Liam listened to Jessie's account of the semester at Stonewall. Though she mostly complained about the amount of work they were forced to do, Liam felt sad that he hadn't been there. This was his life as it could have been.

Before Jessie could ask Liam about his new school, his mother called him to dinner. Liam's stomach rumbled in response.

"I gotta go, Jess. When can I see you?"

"We're all going to the park tomorrow morning. See you there?"

"Of course. See you."

Smiling at the prospect of meeting his friends, Liam quickly washed his hands and went into the kitchen.

"Hurry up, Mum," he said, sitting down. "I'm starving."

***

For the fifth time that evening, Ellie threw down her Transfiguration textbook in frustration. No matter how hard she tried, she could not concentrate. She kept being distracted by the silence.

Everybody had gone home for Christmas. She had the Ravenclaw common room to herself.

I thought it'd be nice to study with nobody here making noise.

But the empty common room was eerie rather than peaceful, the silence - oppressive.

I wonder if the others feel the same, she thought. The younger ones, two second-years and a first-year, they'd be okay: they were all in Hufflepuff. So they'd have company in their House, at least.

But the fifth-year Slytherin would have to be as lonely as she was. Probably worse, Ellie thought. The Slytherin common room is probably really big and gloomy, knowing what Salazar Slytherin was like.

She looked at her textbook. No, she couldn't study here. In fact, Ellie realised she did not want to stay in the empty common room for another minute. She gathered up her books.

At least in the library, Madam Pince will be there. Better than being here all by myself.

The empty hallways were even worse than the common room. Sometimes, Ellie could swear she heard the echoes of hundreds of voices, of laughter and footsteps and conversations. The sound of her own steps reverberating off the walls was no comfort.

As she hurried to the library, however, she found she was not alone. Jeremy Leighton, the Slytherin who had also remained behind, was coming up the stairs from the dungeons just as Ellie was passing by.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, her natural shyness battling with her desire for human company. Eloise Agatha Midgen, stop being pathetic! she scolded herself.

"Are you going to the library, too?" she asked the Slytherin.

Jeremy stopped and looked at her in surprise. Then he nodded, and resumed walking. Ellie drew alongside of him. "It's depressing, isn't it?" she said. "With everyone gone."

Jeremy stared at his feet as he walked. He didn't look up as he replied, "I like it. It's peaceful."

Is that a hint? thought Eloise. Does he want me to leave him alone? She drew back, so she was walking a couple of steps behind him. She felt the familiar blush creeping up her face.

But a moment later, Jeremy had slowed down too, until he was beside her again. "I hate the Slytherin common room, though. It's creepy when there's no one there. Well - it's creepy when the Slytherins are there too, but without them it's even worse. Creepy in a different way."

Ellie smiled in gratitude and relief. So it wasn't just her. "I know what you mean. My common room's the same. I thought it'd be nice with everyone gone, nice and quiet, but it's just weird when it's empty."

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "Can't say I'm looking forward to them all coming back, though."

Ellie was surprised. "I thought Slytherins all had this huge House bond thing? Like, all the Slytherins are friends?"

Jeremy snorted. "Hah! You wish. Or maybe you don't wish. It's more of an alliance than a bond. Slytherins against the rest of the school. They think they're better than everyone else."

Ellie smiled. "So do Ravenclaws. We think we're smarter, so that makes us better."

"Yeah, but you lot don't..." he stopped abruptly. Ellie saw him tighten his grip on his books.

"We don't what?" she asked, mystified.

Jeremy sucked in his breath. "You don't... you get along with the other Houses. You don't go hexing them in the corridors."

"Of course not. Ravenclaws are above such nonsense. Gryffindors hex people in the corridors."

"They only hex Slytherins," said Jeremy. There was a bitter edge to his voice.

Ellie didn't know what to say. Clearly, this was a sensitive topic. They walked on in silence until they reached the library. Ellie sat at a table near the door. Jeremy stood still for a moment, clutching his books with white knuckles. Then, without a word, he put his books down on Ellie's table and sat down. He glanced at her, as if to check if this was okay. When their eyes met, Jeremy quickly looked away.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly. "I'm sorry, no one ever told me who you were."

"That's okay," she replied. "I'm Eloise Midgen." She paused and added, "Ellie."

"I'm Jeremy Leighton."

"I know. You were new."

"Oh." Jeremy began flicking through his Potions textbook. "Are you pure-blood?"

Ellie was startled by the question, but then she rolled her eyes. Trust a Slytherin, she thought. "Yes, I am. And you would be, obviously."

Jeremy nodded. "Oh yes. I can trace my lineage back to the fourth century. All wizards. Never contaminated by Muggle blood." A note of pride had entered Jeremy's voice, but Ellie didn't like the way he said "contaminated".

"You know, Muggle-borns are just as good at magic," she told him. "The smartest witch in my year is Muggle-born."

Jeremy frowned. "Yeah, but maybe she just studies a lot. They never have as much natural power. They have no idea about our world, really. I don't reckon they should be allowed to come to Hogwarts. They just pollute it with all their Muggle nonsense."

Ellie didn't like where this conversation was going. She'd been starting to like Jeremy, despite his sullen bitterness, but now she found herself cooling to him rapidly. "Muggles are still people! And Muggle-born wizards still deserve to learn magic. They have to, otherwise they just wreak havoc with rogue magic. Liam Grady was taught magic at home by his mum, and he still makes stuff explode. Muggle-borns can't be taught at all, unless they come here."

Jeremy stiffened. He was staring at his book fixedly, his fists clenched on the table. "Grady," he said. "Grady is a blood traitor." His voice was flat, with a rehearsed quality to it.

"Liam Grady is a great wizard, and a really nice guy," said Ellie coldly. "And everyone reckons it was Slytherins that attacked him."

The pointed remark seemed to hit home. Jeremy jumped to his feet. "Grady deserved what he got!" he shouted, a note of hysteria in his voice. "He's a blood traitor!"

Ellie was on her feet too. It was obvious now, so obvious. "It was you!" she yelled. "You attacked him!"

She expected him to deny the accusation, to say that he knew nothing about it. At the very least, she expected him to protest again, to say Liam deserved it.

Jeremy did neither. He sank back down in his chair, his head in his hands, and to Ellie's shock and utter bewilderment, he began to cry.

***

Morning dawned cold and grey over Little Whinging. Liam shivered as he stepped outside and turned up the collar of his jacket.

Roxborough Park lay a few blocks away from Stonewall High. It was a flat expanse of grass, with a few trees and a duck pond near the northern end. Two trees served as a goal post for the noisy, vicious games of football played by the local teenagers. The other goal post was a broken swing set. The field was empty that morning, though Liam was certain it would not remain that way for long.

"Liam!"

And there they were, all three of them sitting on a bench by the pond. Sarah was waving madly, Jessie beside her grinning and holding her hair to stop it blowing around in the wind.

Davey jumped up as Liam approached and ran towards him. Before he knew it, Liam found himself in a headlock, his best friend ruffling his hair painfully.

"Dave... gerroff!" Liam gasped, struggling to wiggle free. "Ugh... you stink, mate!"

Davey released him. Liam staggered forward only to be hugged fiercely by Sarah. "Liam, it's so good to see you! We missed you so much!"

"Speak for yourself, woman," said Davey. "With him gone, I was the man around here." He hung his head. "Now I am the beta-male once more."

"Dave, there's no such thing as a beta-male," said Sarah. "There's only an alpha male, and all the other males."

"Yeah, so what are the other males called?"

"I dunno..."

"Beta males! It's obvious, innit?" Dave crossed his arms, his point proven.

Liam laughed and hugged Jessie. "How are you?" he asked.

"Great," she replied. "But I have to go soon, I have to go to work.

Liam grinned. This was news. "You got a job?"

Sarah replied for Jessie. "Yep. She's at Maccas with me now."

"You're not with me today," said Jessie. "You get to stay here while I go slaving away..."

"So you all work there now?" Liam asked. This thought, like Jessie's stories about what he'd missed at Stonewall, made him feel sad. Having worked at McDonalds the entire summer before starting Hogwarts, he knew how awful the job was. But he envied his friends the chance to hate it together.

He was startled by a burst of giggles from the girls. "Nah-uh!" laughed Sarah. "Davey got McSacked!"

Davey rolled his eyes and groaned. "Rub it in, why don't yeh."

"Oooh, but it was classic, you should've seen it," said Sarah. "He got busted gobbing in Mr Thompson's Big Mac."

They all laughed, even Davey. He placed his hands on his hips theatrically and put on a furious expression. "David Blackhall, are you aware of the hygiene policy in this store? I do not believe that customer ordered a McSpit!"

"Oh God," laughed Liam. "But you used to gob in Thompson's burgers all the time. You'd think he'd know better than to buy food made by his students."

"He'd never've known if the bloody manager hadn't kicked up such a fuss. I mean, he could've sacked me quietly, but no. Thompson's been giving me hell ever since. I don't know how I'm gonna pass Chem."

Davey's expression turned grim, while the girls tried to conceal their smiles. Liam sighed. "So, what else did I miss?"

"Nothing much," said Sarah. "Davey getting sacked was probably the highlight of the term. What's boarding school like?"

Oh God, where to begin? thought Liam. He had to be careful, with Jessie there. What can I tell them?

"Oh, you know. Hard. I was behind in a lot of subjects. And I didn't know anyone. Except, remember Harry Potter?"

"What, that skinny kid with glasses? Dudley Dursley's cousin?" asked Davey.

"Yeah. Well, he's there. So at least I knew him."

Sarah's eyes widened. "You mean he's a..." a dig in the ribs from Davey's elbow quickly silenced her. "I mean... I thought Dudley went to Smeltings?"

Liam racked his brain for a suitable lie. "Yeah," he said finally. "Harry got a scholarship to my school. He would've gone to Stony, otherwise."

At this, Jessie frowned and poked Liam's arm. "You should be at Stony! I still can't believe your parents sent you to boarding school. Can't you get yourself expelled or something? We miss you!"

Liam smiled sadly. I wish I could come back, I really do. "I can't do that, Jess. I'm stuck there, now."

"But why?" She glared at him, her eyes boring into his skull, her hands on her hips. It surprised Liam - she had never looked at him so directly, so forcefully before. Her eyes demanded an answer - an answer Liam couldn't give.

"Jess..."

Sarah interrupted. "I know why." She grinned wickedly. "It's 'cause he's got a girlfriend!"

Jessie did not look any happier at this suggestion, but it seemed to break the sudden tension. Liam was quick to deny the accusation. "I do not have a girlfriend!"

"No shame in it, mate," said Davey, wrapping his arms around Sarah. "You can tell us!"

"I know there's no shame in it, but I don't have a girlfriend."

"You fancy someone, then," said Sarah. "Go on, admit it."

"I do not..." even as he said it, Ginny's face flashed in Liam head, and he felt a blush creeping over his face.

Davey and Sarah let out a whoop of delight.

"I knew it!"

"Who is she?"

"Is she pretty?"

"Does she have big..." Davey waved his hands in front of his chest.

Sarah slapped his arm. "Ooh, you are so crude! Don't answer that, Liam!"

Davey looked hurt. "What? You don't mind me telling you I like your bosoms..."

Sarah slapped him again. "You are such an ape, Davey, I swear."

"Why are you going out with me then?"

Sarah grinned. "'Cause I like 'em big and crude."

Jessie sniggered and pretended to wretch. "Oh, too much information, Sarah!"

Liam laughed.

"What, I'm just bein' honest, here!" Sarah protested. "Liam, now: he's a gentleman. He doesn't go around talking about people's bosoms, or... gobbin' in people's Big Macs..."

This reduced them all to hysterical peals of laughter. It took them a long time to stop - every time they all managed to fall silent, someone would giggle and start them all off again.

Finally, it was Jessie who broke the cycle, glancing at her watch and jumping to her feet. "I gotta go. Liam - I'll see you all later."

Davey grabbed her arm before she could run off. "You still coming to The Whinging Pom with us aren't you?"

"Of course! It's okay, I get off at five. I'll see you there."

"Bye, Jess!" shouted Liam as she jogged away, holding up her long velvet skirt.

"Don't gob in any Big Macs!" yelled Sarah. Jessie stopped, turned around and rolled her eyes. Sarah poked out her tongue.

Liam grinned. "You lot haven't changed a bit."

Davey looked at him curiously. "Well, it's only been four months, mate. Less than that, even."

"Feels like a lot longer to me," said Liam, and shivered.

"Liam," said Sarah, glancing at Davey as if for support. "When are you gonna tell her?"

Liam felt his stomach lurch. "Tell who what?" he asked, though he knew exactly what Sarah meant.

Davey thumped him on the arm. "Tell who what, he says. Tell who what! Jessie, you numbskull. Tell her about who you really are. Where you've been. Why you haven't been writing to her!"

"I told you guys!" said Liam defensively. "I can't send letters by post, and what would your parents think if they saw an owl flying through your window?"

"Yeah, we know that!" said Sarah. "But Jessie doesn't. You can't keep it from her forever!"

Liam sighed. "I'm just afraid of what she might do. I mean... you know."

Sarah put her hands on his shoulders. "Yeah, we know. But that was over a year ago, and she didn't have any friends then. No one to support her when she was down. She's got us now. She's got you. How do you think she'll feel if she finds out what you've been keeping from her?"

Yeah, that's the whole problem, isn't it?

"She's still doing spells, she still believes she can do magic," Liam explained. "I can't just tell her she's wrong!"

Sarah and Davey exchanged glances. "You can't keep it from her forever," said Sarah. "If you don't tell her, she'll find out some other way. And trust me, it'll be better if she hears it from you."

"I know," said Liam, sinking down on the bench and leaning his elbows on his knees. "But that doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

***

The Whinging Pom, as always on a Saturday night, was packed to the brim with underage kids. It was common knowledge among the teenagers of Little Whinging that this pub turned a blind eye on the alcohol age restriction. The rest of the suburb tolerated the place uneasily. Sometimes parents complained. Among the older members of the population, however, it was seen as a blessing in disguise. It was reasoned that it was better for everybody if the young hooligans were in a pub getting drunk, rather than out on the streets terrorising the neighbourhood.

By arriving early, Liam, Davey and Sarah managed to secure a table for themselves. Chairs were harder to come by, so when Jessie arrived, Sarah sat on Davey's lap.

Davey shouted over the din. "Now that we're all here, and none of us have to rush to our McCrappy jobs," - he looked at Jessie pointedly - "we've got a present for our old mate!"

"Who would that be?" Liam shouted back. "I don't have any old mates, do you?"

Davey laughed. "Make jokes like that, and we might not give it to you. I camped out overnight to get this. They sold out in an hour. So we could make a bucket if we sell it off."

Liam stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

Davey, Sarah and Jessie exchanged a knowing glance. "A drum roll, please," said Davey theatrically. The girls drummed their fingers on the table.

"Now, how many friends do you have," said Davey, standing up, "who would camp out overnight..." - he reached into his pocket - "and throw their measly wages together... to get you... a genuine, authentic, bona-fide, dance-floor ticket to see Pearl Jam!"

Liam's jaw dropped. Davey held out the ticket.

"Guys... I don't believe it..." Liam gasped. "Pearl Jam!" He jumped to his feet. "I didn't even know they were playing!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "That's what happens when you spend four months in a posh boarding school! Now, are we good, or what?"

"Thanks guys..." Liam was speechless. He stared at the ticket. Pearl Jam!

And just as suddenly as the excitement had welled up, Liam felt it deflate. He looked at the ticket, reading the information on it several times.

"But guys... this concert is in March. I'll still be away at school."

Davey looked at him defiantly. "Yeah, we talked about this. And it's like this. Pearl Jam were touring, so we had to get you a ticket. If there was even the slightest chance of you being able to go, we'd never forgive ourselves for not getting you one. And we know you can't write to us when you're at school, so we have to work out when and where we're gonna meet right here and now. If you show, you show. If you don't... well, at least we don't have to have a guilty conscience."

Davey took a gulp of his beer. Liam shook his head incredulously. This just isn't fair. After all the trouble they've gone to... and the money... Pearl Jam! And I can't go!

"But honestly, mate," continued Davey, setting down his glass. "If you can't figure out a way to sneak out of that school of yours for one weekend to see Pearl Jam... then you're not the Liam Grady we know." He turned to Sarah and Jessie. "Right?"

"Right!" they chorused, raising their glasses and slamming them together. Liam laughed and picked up his own glass, though his insides were squirming. He knew he would have to disappoint them. There was just no way for him to get to that concert.

Concert. Bloody hell, there's a war on and you're thinking about a concert.

But another part of him protested: Yeah, and why shouldn't I be? They're my favourite band and my friends are going! This isn't fair!

"Come on mate," said Davey. "You'll find a way, I'm dead certain you will. I mean... you do have certain... talents!"

"Ha ha, thanks Davey," Liam muttered, trying not to look at Jessie. He studied his ticket. "Henry Hall," he mused. "Isn't that where we saw Green Day?"

Davey nodded.

That's near the Leaky Cauldron.

No! Don't even think about it!

"Look, I'll try," said Liam. "But don't hold your breath. My school is in Scotland, for God's sake."

"You'll make it," Jessie assured him. "I'll do a spell to give you good luck."

Davey and Sarah's eyes flicked to Liam. Liam tensed. Oh, here we go.

"Jess..." he said, taking a swig of his beer, "Do you really think that stuff works?"

Jessie scowled. "Do you have to do that?"

"But Jess... I mean, there's no proof, is there?"

"There is!" she thumped her glass on the table, spilling some of the beer. "Like, I did a spell last week to help me in school. And I got full marks for my English essay!"

"But Jess," Liam tried to sound reasonable, "Don't you think you might've got that mark because you deserved it?"

"Well yeah, I did the spell, I got the mark."

"But you worked hard on the essay? You put in heaps of effort?"

"Of course I did! You can't expect magic to do your work for you! If I just do the spell and then don't so the essay, I'll just be wasting my energy, won't I?"

"Yeah, but don't you see then, that's not proof! You got a good mark because you worked hard on the essay! Not because of the spell!"

Jessie stood up, her eyes blazing. "Why can't you just leave it alone? It works for me, okay!"

Liam reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away. "Jess, I'm just..."

"Hey, Stoned Wall!"

Liam broke off in mid-sentence and turned towards the voice. It belonged to a huge boy with blonde hair. Several other boys were standing behind him, all sneering contemptuously. Some of their faces looked familiar.

Liam felt Jessie tense beside him. He looked at her curiously. She was looking from the blond boy to Davey and back again. The argument seemed to be temporarily forgotten.

Davey leaned over to hiss in Liam's ear. "Smeltings. Bloody snots discovered this place about a month ago, and they've been acting like they own it ever since."

"Hey, Smeltings," Davey drawled to the newcomers. "Shouldn't you be at a garden party or something?"

The blond boy blew cigarette smoke in Davey's face. "No, we'd rather be here, don't we boys?" The others sniggered in agreement. "And you're sitting at our table."

Suddenly, Liam recognised him. Dudley Dursley!

"Hey... aren't you Harry Potter's cousin?" Liam asked.

Dudley's reaction was quite spectacular. He staggered backwards, a horrified expression stamped across his face.

Of course, Liam remembered. Harry's relatives are afraid of magic. And of Harry.

Dudley quickly got himself under control. "I am not related to that freak," he said through clenched teeth.

Liam grinned. "Oh yeah? You sure? You don't want me to say hello? You know... when I see him at school?"

This time, Dudley looked as if he would faint. But again, he was quick to hide his terror. "I don't know what you're talking about, Stoned Wall. Now you'd better get out of our table before..."

He let the sentence hang. Apparently, coming up with a suitable threat was too much of an effort.

"Before you what?" smirked Davey. "Get your daddy to buy the place? Fuck off, Smeltings."

But Dudley didn't fuck off. He advanced on Liam and Davey, his face menacing. His gang was right behind him.

Liam could never really explain what happened next, or why. Perhaps it was the memory of the beating he'd received at the age of ten. Perhaps it was the way Dudley suddenly reminded him of Draco Malfoy. Whatever the reason, before Liam even knew what was happening, Dudley's head snapped back as if hit by some invisible force, and the blond boy staggered, blood dripping from his nose. "Why you little prick..." Dudley muttered, before rushing at Liam and tackling him to the ground.

Liam landed with an "Oof!", the breath knocked out of him. Before he could even gasp, Dudley was laying it in, fist in Liam's stomach just like that time behind the school kitchens. This time, however, Liam wasn't alone. Davey grabbed the back of Dudley's jacket and hauled. Dudley turned his attention to Davey. They staggered into the table and knocked it over, beer glasses smashing on the floor. Jessie squealed and jumped away, but Sarah joined in the fight, kicking Dudley with her Doc Marten boots.

But even with Sarah fighting, they were three against seven. It would have gone badly for them if the barman and security guard hadn't interfered. It took some pulling on jackets, a few punches and a lot of shouting before the fight was broken up, and more pushing and pulling before Dudley's gang and Liam, Davey, Sarah and Jessie were outside on the street.

"He started it!" Dudley yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Liam. "Bloody Stoned Wall!"

"I don't care!" replied the barman. "I let you in, I serve you drinks, but if you make trouble, you're out. And if you dare to continue your little brawl out here, I will call the police. Go home!"

Jessie was tugging on Liam's sleeve. "Come on," she hissed, ushering him and the others away from the pub. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

Davey looked back before they turned the corner, and waved his fist towards the Smeltings gang. "Fuck you, Smeltings!"

"Come on!" Jessie yelled. She pulled harder on Liam's arm. "What the hell's gotten into you?" she yelled. "Why the hell did you do that?"

For some reason, Liam wanted to laugh. "Do what?" he giggled. "I didn't do anything!"

"You..." Jessie stepped away from him and clenched her fists. "You punched him! Why the hell did you punch him?"

"I didn't!" Liam tried to get the laughter under control, but he couldn't.

"It isn't funny, Liam!" she yelled.

But Davey was laughing too. Liam knew that Jessie was right, it wasn't funny, but a kind of hysteria had taken hold. Adrenaline and alcohol were coursing through his veins, making his knees wobble and his hands shake. "I didn't punch him. It was... magic."

"Magic." Jessie's voice was flat. "You're making fun of me. I thought you'd be better than that, Liam."

Through the haze in Liam's mind a thought emerged: Careful! Think about what you're saying!

But he never got a chance. Later, he would wonder whether he really heard a "bang" in the distance, or whether his imagination added it to the memory. What he didn't imagine was the sudden flash of green light on Jessie's face, and the way her mouth dropped open and her eyes looked over his head, focused on something rising into the sky.

Liam turned around slowly, following Jessie's gaze. And there it was: the unthinkable, rising over the rooftops of Little Whinging, Surrey.

The Dark Mark.

"What in the name of holy fuck is that?" asked Davey quietly. "Liam?"

Liam didn't hear him. The Dark Mark in Little Whinging.

Then he was running, running towards the spot the Mark had come from, pausing only to shout "Stay here!" to his friends. He didn't look back to see if they obeyed. He knew deep inside that they wouldn't, but he didn't bother to tell them again.

They had barely gone two blocks before the Mark disappeared. Liam could hear the wail of sirens, and running footsteps behind him.

What the hell am I doing? The Dark Mark, that means Death Eaters. I don't even have my wand. Where the hell am I going?

But he knew he had to go, he had to find out where the Mark had come from. Death Eaters in Little Whinging...

They did not have far to go. Soon they rounded a corner and were running past tidy, detached houses. Not far down the street, Liam saw an ambulance and two police cars, their lights flashing.

They were parked in front of a pile of rubble.

Liam slowed to a walk, then stopped altogether. "Jesus Christ."

A house on the left, a house on the right. And in the middle, a ruin of tumbled brick and twisted windowpanes.

Collapsed power cables flashed blue lightning.

"Hey!" a hooded figure was suddenly blocking Liam's view, a wand waving in his face. For a horrible moment, Liam thought it was a Death Eater, but then he realised that the man was wearing the robes on an Obliviator.

"Whoa!" Liam shouted urgently. "It's okay, I'm a wizard! I go to Hogwarts! Don't memory-charm me!"

But the Obliviator still had his wand raised. Liam realised he was looking behind him.

"Not them either!" Liam yelled, spreading his arms wide to shield his friends. "You'll never get everyone, anyway. That thing went right above the rooftops. The whole town saw."

"Well, get them away from here, then. We've got enough problems dealing with all the Muggles here already."

The Obliviator turned to go, but Liam grabbed his sleeve. "Not until you tell me what happened! Who cast the Dark Mark?"

The Obliviator laughed. "You think we know? They Disapparated as soon as they did it. All we know so far is that this house is destroyed, and there's two Muggles inside, dead." He grimaced. "Killing curse."

Liam stared at the rubble. Two Muggles. Is this it then? Have they started attacking Muggles now? Is this war out in the open?

Despite the Obliviator's orders, Liam moved closer to the wreckage, his horrified fascination drawing him near. He began to notice other details, such as the hooded forms of several Obliviators striding around purposefully and the gathering crowd of onlookers being held back by policemen.

Liam was distracted by a flash of gold. He looked down and saw an object lying on the road: a polished brass plate. It must've been blown from the house. By whatever... did that. His mind in a daze, Liam picked up the object.

Etched into the plate and painted white was a large, ornate number four.

"Liam," said Jessie in his ear. "Liam, what's going on?"

Before he could formulate any sort of reply, Liam heard a howl behind him. He whirled around and saw somebody sprinting towards them, screaming, "Mum! Dad!" Several other figures were coming behind him, but they faltered when they saw the ruined house.

Dudley Dursley ran on alone, stumbling with his eyes on the wreckage.