Will and his father looked at it each other for a moment. Then, Private Davis stepped past his son and opened the door.
In the doorway stood a tall man with a thin face and dark eyes. He wore a neat, polished suit and a warm smile as his eyes travelled from father to dishevelled son.
"Excuse me," he said, "are you Mister Davis?"
Will's father frowned. "Private Davis."
The man nodded. "And this is your son, William?" he asked, gesturing at the boy.
A sudden burst of terror rushed through Will as he wondered whether the boys had already reported him. What would the punishment be? Would they want to know how he had done it? An even worse thought crossed Will's mind: would they take him away from his family?
Will's father hesitated, before saying, "Yes, he is."
"Right," said the man as his smile widened. "I am Professor Quentin Trimble and I am here to offer your son a place at Hogwarts."
"What?" said Will before he could stop himself, so surprised by what the man had said. "I mean… Excuse me? What's Hogwarts?"
"Hogwarts is a school for people who are special," said Trimble.
"Have I done something wrong?" asked Will, not reassured by the man's answer.
"This is not a school for children who do something wrong," said Trimble. "It is a school for children who can do magic."
There was a brief silence.
"What is this rubbish?" asked Will's father. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"I assure you, Private Davis, this is no joke. We have only very recently found out that a new magical child has entered Britain, and just in time, I might add."
"There must be something wrong," said Will uncertainly. "I'm not magical."
"Really? Because you must have done some clear magic just a few hours ago for the quill to pick it up."
"The… quill?"
Trimble's eyes sparkled as he launched into an explanation. "There is a quill that detects the birth of magical children in Britain - or indeed when young witches and wizards display magic for the first time within these borders. It notes the name and date of birth into a book that lies in Hogwarts, which only accepts children that have shown a sufficient level of magic. Just a few hours ago, a colleague of mine happened to spot a new name written into the book. It was your name, Will Davis."
"This is ridiculous," said Will's father. "Please leave this flat immediately."
"Perhaps a little proof is in order?" said the man in a mild tone of voice, and reached into his pocket. As the other two watched tensely, he drew out a thin stick that he held loosely before giving it a light wave. To Will's amazement, from the tip of the stick erupted a bird - a raven - that swooped around the room once before resting on a chair with a disgruntled caw.
Private Davis stared at the beady-eyed raven. "How… how…. Are you some kind of street charlatan?"
"Simply a wizard," said Trimble as he waved his wand again. A mug on the table grew legs and started dancing on the table. With another wave, the legs disappeared and the mug rested on the table again as if nothing had happened. "As is your son. Which is why he has a place at Hogwarts."
"I'm… a wizard?"
Trimble turned to Will, making the boy flinch slightly. "I think you know the answer to that yourself already."
Will's mind flashed back to all the times strange things had happened around him - just today, when he had used these odd powers first on a book then a few boys… That had been magic? It seemed too absurd a possibility, the kind of thing Will would have instantly discounted, but… "And you're a teacher at… Hogwarts?"
Trimble nodded briskly. "The deputy headmaster in fact - or one of them, anyway. And the professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, one of the subjects taught at Hogwarts." He reached into his coat and withdrew a letter, which he handed to Will. "This is your acceptance letter."
Will opened the letter and removed the first sheet of paper.
It read:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmistress: Eupraxia Mole
Dear Mr Davis,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 2 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Quentin Trimble & Lana Farley
Deputy Headmasters
"What does it mean, 'We await your owl'?" asked Will.
"Don't worry about that," said Trimble. "If you accept your place, I'll pass it on to the headmaster when I return to Hogwarts."
"But he can't go," said Will's father.
"Why not?" asked Trimble.
"Because this is… This… It's preposterous. He's my son, not some trickster taught in smoke and mirrors."
"Private Davis, I understand that it is hard for you to accept. It's always that way with muggles -"
"What's a muggle?" interjected Will instantly.
"A non-magical person. As I was saying, while it might be hard for you to accept, this is the right thing for your son. In Hogwarts he can learn how to control and use his gifts. He will be among kids like him and be taught by some of the very best teachers this country has to offer, masters in their disciplines. William would be well looked after."
"How do you even know he's a… a wizard?"
Trimble sighed. "I explained the book and the quill to you, but perhaps it would be best to ask William himself whether he thinks he has ever produced something that might be called magic. Anything strange happen when you're particularly excited, angry… or scared?"
Will swallowed as both adults turned to look at him. "I think… Sometimes maybe," he said slowly, "things happen that I can't explain. I can move things without touching them. Or make things heat up when I want them to." Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw his father shudder as a memory rose to the surface. Blistered fingers letting go of Will all those years ago…
Trimble looked pensively at the two. "At Hogwarts, you can master the magic you have already discovered within yourself. Having any amount of control at your age is remarkable, but there is a lot for you still to learn. If you accept."
"And am I expected to pay for all of this?" asked Will's father in a strained voice.
"Not to worry, tuition is free and there's a fund available for students with non-magical parents so that they can buy everything they need," said Trimble. "And if you want to, Gringott's, the wizarding bank, offers exchanges between wizard and muggle money."
"There's a wizarding bank?" asked Will quickly.
Trimble smiled gently. "Most things muggles have, we have a version of too."
"Oh," said Will, trying to think of something to say. He realised that the raven was still sitting there, staring beadily at him. "Is there a wizard's army too?"
Trimble gave him a rather curious look before answering. "Not anything like what you're imagining. There are… fighting forces, I suppose, when times of conflict arrive."
"So there are wizarding wars?" asked Will, the words escaping him without control. "Wait, is that related to what you teach? Defence Against the Dark Arts… Is that about fighting… bad wizards?"
The professor fixated him with a steely-eyed stare and Will shrunk slightly, wondering whether he had asked inappropriate questions. "There are indeed wizarding wars. And my subject does involve protection against dark magic in all its forms, whether in spells, creatures or yes, even people. But perhaps we should return to the matter at hand."
The tone of voice was mild, but bore unmistakeable authority. Will swallowed and nodded.
"Good. Before we proceed any further, I must ask the crucial question. Do you want to accept your place at Hogwarts?"
Will looked quickly at his father, whose eyes were blank. "I… Do I have time to think about this?"
"Not really, I'm afraid. If you commit to entering the wizarding world, it is better for you to do it without regret. And alas, I do not have enough time on my hands to seek out children on multiple occasions until they reach decisions."
Will took a deep breath. "I mean… It's not that I don't want to go. But I can't go if my father isn't all right with it." He looked pleadingly at his father, willing him to say something.
At last, Private Davis stirred. "If he goes to this… school, will we ever see him again?"
"Of course. He will return each summer and, if he wishes to, over Christmas and Easter too."
"And will he still be the boy I raised when he returns?"
As Trimble and Davis exchanged a tense look, Will shivered. Eventually, Trimble said, "Whether you know your son so little that you would not recognise him after only a few months tuition I really could not say."
"It won't be only tuition though, will it?"
"No, there is indeed a range of extracurricular activities that your son could take advantage of if he chooses to accept."
"Where is this school anyway? In England?"
"The location of Hogwarts is a closely guarded secret for understandable reasons. Suffice it to say that it is somewhat to the north of England."
Davis' nose wrinkled. "In Scotland? Does our government know that young boys are being asked to join some secret… cabal?"
"The Prime Minister of the day is indeed informed to some degree of the… going-ons."
"So why doesn't he do anything to stop it?"
Trimble's lip curled into a rather unpleasant sneer. "I'm afraid he does not have much say over the matter either way. Not that I see how this subject has any bearing on your son's education."
"It matters what kind of people I'm entrusting my son with."
"Then will you let him accept?"
"I'll let him make his own decisions. I've raised him to become a man who can take responsibility for his actions," said Davis proudly, for some reason making Will feel very ashamed of himself.
The two men turned to Will. He thought of the letter he was still clutching in one hand. He thought of the boys earlier. And he thought of his mother, lying ill upstairs. How could he leave her? Then again… Couldn't magic fix everything?
How could he forgive himself if he went?
How could he forgive himself if he didn't?
"I want to go," said Will, hearing the words leave his mouth as if uttered by a stranger. He instantly looked at his father, who paled and looked down in resignation. A pang of guilt shot through him.
Trimble nodded briskly. "Excellent. Then if you so choose, I will accompany you tomorrow to buy your school supplies. The letter you are holding also has a list of the things you will need."
"Where can you buy… magical things?"
"In London. Do you wish me to help you find your way?"
Will hesitated, then nodded.
"Good. I will return here at ten in the morning to pick you up. Do you have any questions?"
"How exactly will he travel to this school?" asked Will's father. "Magic carpet?'
"No," said Trimble with a thin smile, "the train." He pointed the stick at the raven and with a small poof, it disappeared. "Anything else?"
"I don't think so," said Will.
"Then I shall be collecting you tomorrow."
The man gave each of them a curt nod and, without another word, strode to the door.
After he left, there was a moment of silence. Will and his father looked each other. He could not think of anything to say. His father seemed to be struggling as well.
"Are you really fine with this?" asked Will eventually, and even as the words left his mouth they sounded incredibly stupid. He gulped and regarded his father with trepidation.
The man brought his hands together and wrung them nervously. "No. I mean… No. How could I be? Are you sure this is what you want?"
"No. But I feel like I have to try."
There was more silence until Will awkwardly passed his father to go to where his mother lay. She was shivering slightly.
"Should I get you another blanket?"
"I'm fine, dear. Who was in there just now?"
Will sat down on his mother's bed. "I'm not sure you'll believe me."
"I think I might be sick enough to believe anything," his mother said with a throaty laugh. "Go on, just tell me."
He read the letter to her.
"What is this, Will?"
"It was given to me by a man who came. He offered me a place at this… school. He's taking me tomorrow to get supplies."
"A school of magic? You're a… wizard?"
Will met his mother's eyes, trying to figure out how she was reacting. "Apparently."
"Well, I suppose that shouldn't be a surprise."
Will frowned. "What?"
"You've always been able to do strange things." To his surprise, she smiled. "This is all rather exciting, isn't it?"
"I'll be gone for much of the year. In Scotland."
"But you want to go, don't you?"
"I don't know. I mean…"
"Will."
He bit his lip. "I guess I do. This will change everything. It's magic! Whatever's wrong with you, I can -"
"No, Will," his mother interrupted him gently. "That's not why you're going." With some effort, she stretched her hand and tapped his nose. "I hope you become a brilliant wizard. You'll have to tell me all about it, of course."
