The deceptively fragile structure waded out against the incoming tide, testament to the ingenuity of those that wished to tame the forces of nature. Of all the structures that skimmed the promenade at Blackpool the Central Pier was the most striking... well, that and the tower of course, but Algie wasn't about to chuck his great-nephew off the top of that. Not enough margin for error. If the boy really was a squib then he would be doomed, falling from that great height and Algie would be facing some uncomfortable questions from Augusta if something serious happened to the child.
He tempted the rather staid child along the sands with an ice cream topped with raspberry sauce and was disgusted with the way the boy lapped it up. A child of his parentage should be more discerning than this, indulging himself with a Muggle ice cream with a bit of pink stuff on top. His parents would have been mortified. It was easy to see why this rather simple child had never been encouraged to find his magic – mollycoddled into believeing all was well because he had lost his parents, Algie was a great believer in facing up to your gremlins and tackling them head-on. Problems of the kind his nephew faced would have been tackled much sooner had the boy been his son. And now he had the chance to prove it. Augusta had trusted the child to him for the afternoon and he was jolly well going to see that there was no excuse for Neville..
He strode out confidently across the wooden slats of the pier, paying scant attention to the rushing, foaming tide beneath him. Neville, meanwhile, was examining the gaps in the wood beneath his feet closely. The child watched the white horses of the waves as they jumped for the shore, frightening him, calling him to his doom and at the same time rejecting him as being of another place, another realm. Neville licked his ice cream nervously and tried to pretend he was on solid ground. The wind had picked up a little throwing sand up to prick at his eyes.
"Now then, our Neville," Algie said as they reached the end of the pier. "Your gran says that you're having a little problem with your magical abilities."
Neville blinked large watery eyes at his great-uncle, not really understanding what was being said.
"How's about you take a quick leap of the pier, prove her wrong?"
Neville licked his ice cream pointedly, not wishing to take a leap off anything, least of all this pier with its chasm of water beneath it.
"Thought as much," Algie continued heartily. "Looks like we're going to have to dredge the magic out of you."
And with that he hoisted Neville, by the seat of his trousers, above the white wrought-iron railings and pitched him, ice cream and all, into the spray beneath them.
After a few minutes Algie realised that something had gone wrong. It was only Augusta's sudden wailing beside him that brought him back to reality as he realised, sadly, that Neville had chosen to run away from his magical ability, chosen the pleasant pull of the salt water over struggle in the wizarding world. He fished the boy out, and couldn't look him in the eye.