Four-year-old Ari Goldstein listened outside his parents' bedroom door. He could only pick up a few random phrases, but none of them seemed to make sense.

"He needs to know." That was Tatti's voice.

"He's too young. It won't affect him either way. It has nothing to do with him." That was Mommy.

There was a lot more that he couldn't hear, but it didn't seem to make sense. Didn't he already know everything? What doesn't have to do with him?

"If anything happens in yeshiva…" Ari couldn't hear the rest of this sentence.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He threw open the door and demanded, "What are you talking about?"

"You're very nosy," Tatti said.

Ari stomped out of the room. It's not true, he thought angrily. They were not talking about his nose! He knew that he had a nose and it does affect him! Besides, what does his nose have to do with yeshiva? Finally, he opened their door again.

"Are you still talking about my nose?" he asked. He didn't understand why his mother started laughing at his question.

"No, now we're talking about your foot," Tatti said calmly.

"Maybe you're right," Mommy said to Tatti, "but I don't think he can keep a secret."

"Of course I can keep a secret!" Ari said. "I didn't tell Bubby when Uncle Dovid was sick!"

"No you didn't," Mommy agreed. "Instead you said, 'Uncle Dovid won't be coming to visit today, so Bubby figured out that something was going on."

"But I still didn't tell," Ari said smugly.

"Yes, but if you tell this, I could get in trouble," Tatti said. "The only reason I want to tell you is so that if it happens to you, you will know what to do."

"If what happens to me?" Ari asked.

Tatti walked across the room and took a stick out of his drawer.

"Why do you keep a stick in your drawer?" Ari wanted to know.

Tatti flicked the stick and the dresser lifted a few feet off the ground.

"Teach me how," Ari begged.

"I can't teach you," Tatti told him. "Either you're magical or you're not, and we don't know yet if you are. The only reason I want to tell you that magic exists is in case you do accidental magic in yeshiva. You need to know what's happening so you can tell the school to call me, but you can't tell anyone that it's magic."

"So what do I say?" Ari asked.

"You could say that you're not feeling well or something," Tatti told him, "But chances are nothing will happen anyway."

During Ari's first year of school, he looked around carefully for signs of magic, but didn't see any. After a while, he forgot about magic until the spring after Ari turned five. It was recess time, and some boys were playing a very wild game of cops and robbers. Ari had no intention of playing, as he didn't want to get hurt. All of a sudden, three boys pounced on him. Ari tried telling them that he's not playing, but they didn't listen and dragged him across the playground, his back and arms scraping against the concrete. To make it worse, one boy decided to sit on his stomach and scratch him. Just when Ari thought he couldn't take it anymore, the boys vanished. He sat up slowly and saw them sitting on the bench, looking scared. He wondered if Morah called them and slowly walked over to them. One of the boys, Ezra, opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Ari suddenly realized what happened.

"Can you call my father?" he asked Morah.

"Why?" Morah asked.

Ari lifted his shirt, showing the bloody scrapes along his back. He rolled up his sleeves to display the matching scrapes on his arms. Finally, he faced his teacher and lifted his shirt again; showing big ugly scratch marks all over his stomach. Morah turned to the three boys on the bench.

"Did you do that?" she demanded angrily.

None of the boys moved.

"I told them to wait there until my father comes," Ari lied. "I guess they're scared of him."

"Moishy, go upstairs and get Rabbi Marcus," she ordered.

Moishy sat on the bench and didn't move.

"They're not going to move until my father comes," Ari said again.

"Tzviki," Morah called to one of the boys still playing. "Can you run upstairs and get Rabbi Marcus? Tell him that Ari got hurt."

A few minutes later, the deputy headmaster ran into the yard, followed by Tzviki.

"What happened?" he asked Ari.

Ari showed off his wounds and said, "Do you know the game cops and robbers?"

"I do," Rabbi Marcus said, "and the cops are not supposed to be hurting the robbers. That's called using excessive force and its illegal. Are these the cops?" he asked looking at the three boys on the bench.

"They're not moving or saying anything until my father comes to yell at them," Ari said. "Can you call my father?"

"I will now," Rabbi Marcus said, "but I don't think you need stitches. Next time, don't threaten your classmates with your father. I'm in the school for a reason."

It wasn't long before Tatti ran to the school yard. He withdrew his stick from his sleeve and all three boys got off the bench. Tatti grabbed Ari and left before anyone could ask questions.

"So I guess you are magical," Tatti told Ari.

"They hurt me," Ari said. "You were supposed to yell at them."

"I think you scared them enough," Tatti told him. "I changed their memories so they won't remember this."

At home, Tatti used magic to heal Ari's scrapes, but some white scars remained. When Mommy came home, Tatti told her what happened and said, "It looks like Ari is headed for Hogwarts!"

"What's Hogwarts?" Ari asked.

"It's a magical school," Tatti answered.

"Can I go there now?" Ari wanted to know.

"Not until you're eleven," Tatti said. "That's usually the age when people could control their magic."

"Where is it?" Ari asked eagerly.

"Up north," Tatti answered.

"How will I get there?"

"There's a train that goes there every year on September 1st," Tatti told him.

"But then how do I get there the other days?" Ari asked.

"You stay there all week and only go home for Shabbos, Yom Tov, and summer," Tatti said.

"So how come the train only goes on September 1st?" Ari asked.

"Because you will be the only one going home for Shabbos," Tatti explained. "I was the only Jew in Hogwarts when I was there. It's not a Jewish school."

"I don't want to go to Hogwarts," Ari said. "I want to stay home."

"You're still young," Tatti told him. "We'll see in six years what you are up to."

"I'm not going," Ari said stubbornly. "I'll make sure never to do any more magic."

Ari managed not to do magic for two years. He was a friendly boy and didn't usually get into fights. One day when he was seven, Shlomo was sent to the headmaster's office for hitting Ari during recess. When Shlomo came back to class, he spit on Ari's yarmulke. Ari felt himself getting very angry. He was wearing the new yarmulke that he wore to Tanta Shevi's wedding last month. It has his name on it, and Mommy wanted him to save it for Shabbos, but he insisted it will be okay in school. Now, Shlomo ruined it. As Ari seethed quietly in his seat, Shlomo's yarmulke lifted off of his head and floated over to Ari. As it landed on Ari's head, the spit covered yarmulke made it's way to Shlomo's head. One at time, the letters spelling out Aryeh Tuvia travelled from the yarmulke on Shlomo's head to the clean yarmulke on Ari's head. The most remarkable part was that nobody else in the class noticed.

Ari felt bad about doing magic again. He realized that it happened because he was angry. He decided he will never get angry again.

Over the years, Ari was often called a malach or a tzaddik by his teachers. It seemed that no matter what anyone did, Ari didn't get upset. He was always calm and was able to remain focused on his lessons no matter what was going on. The best part was that as long as Ari controlled himself, he had no more magic. Hopefully, he won't have to go to Hogwarts after all.

During his last year of primary school, everyone was talking about their plans for next year. Almost everyone was staying at their local yeshiva. Shlomo's parents considered sending him to a dormitory but haven't decided yet. Ari told his friends he will probably stay here, but that his father mentioned the possibility of dorming. He was pretty sure it wouldn't happen until the day that Nosson stole his book.

At the end of the school day, Ari put the books he needed for his homework on his desk and went to get his coat from the closet. He was surprised when he went back for his books to see that a book he needed for a report was gone. He asked what happened and Nosson grinned at him.

"I put your book in my knapsack," Nosson taunted. "Now I'll finally score higher than you on an assignment."

"Give it back," Ari said, trying not to get angry.

"Nope," Nosson grinned. "I'm taking it home with me so that you can't do your work."

"I really need it," Ari told him. "I think it will be better for you if I don't tell any teachers that you took my book."

"I'll just tell the teachers you're lying," Nosson said.

All of a sudden, Nosson's knapsack tore open. Ari quickly picked up his book.

"Maybe I'll dorm for secondary school after all," he said sadly.