Chapter Thirteen

The Mimicavoci Potion

"Wait here, Mr. Lloyd," Professor Bancroft said, and he disappeared through a door behind the desk.

Ethan stood and looked around. The office appeared much as it had on the other occasion he'd been brought here, after the Jo-Ge-Oh had rescued him from Hafgan in Spook Woods. The paintings of past headmasters hung on the walls, their subjects mostly napping, though one or two eyed Ethan curiously.

He took a few steps to get a closer look at the portraits when he heard a quick yelp at his feet. He looked down and saw that he'd disturbed a dog that had been curled up by the fireplace, a slender beast with short brown fur, long legs, a needle-nosed snout and an even longer tail that was forked at the end. The animal now got up and stretched, contemplating Ethan with gentle, brown eyes.

Ethan held out a hand and, after the dog sniffed, scratched it behind the ears.

"Ah, Mr. Lloyd, I see you've met Burr," Cyrus Flyte said as he entered the room with Bancroft. "Herodotus, I shall be in touch shortly."

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I frightened him," Ethan said as Bancroft left the office. "Is he yours?"

"Now there is a good question," Flyte said, his eyes meeting the dog's. "I don't believe that's the right way to describe our relationship. You see, grey-crups are rather remarkable creatures. From the age of the Old Kingdom in Egypt, they have chosen their own companions among humans. They've spent time with pharoahs, temple priests, alchemists and seers. I suppose that I am honored that Burr decided to adopt me."

The sleek dog looked at Flyte in a gently dignified way, as if to agree with this assessment. Ethan looked in wonder at the two of them, as they seemingly conversed silently.

Then Flyte said aloud, "Very well, off you go then."

Suddenly the dog began whirling about, as if chasing its own forked tail. On the third rotation, there was a sudden flash and Burr disappeared.

Ethan jumped back, startled.

"Yes, Burr can apparate in his own way," Flyte said, amused. "He's loyal, very strong, can heal wounds with his breath and some say his kind can even fly in great need."

There came a rapping at the door.

"Come!" Flyte commanded. The door opened and in stomped Beadle, still carrying the dead wolf. He nearly toppled over as he reached the end of the moving floor.

"Professor Flyte, sir, I don't mean to interrupt, but I have to tell ya that this lad is innocent..."

"Mr. Beadle, I assure you," Flyte began to reply, but the custodian kept talking.

"He was talking to me on the stairs, there's no way he...

"I know, I know," Flyte tried to interject.

"You know, sir, I'm the last one to let any student off easy, but it just couldn't have been Lloyd..."

"Beadle, listen to me," Flyte said determinedly. "I do not believe that Ethan here was involved in this or any other attack!"

"Oh, well, that's different," the custodian said, abashed. "I'll just wait my turn to discuss..."

Beadle's voice trailed off and he stepped back onto the moving floor and was carried back out the door.

"You believe me, then?" Ethan asked, relieved.

"Yes, Ethan, I believe you," Flyte said gravely. "Yet I still wish to speak with you."

Ethan sat nervously as Flyte considered him, eyes gazing down his long beak of a nose from under the bushy eyebrows, his shock of white hair swaying a bit.

"Strange things are happening, Ethan," the headmaster said at last. "And I must ask you whether you have anything to tell me...anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem."

Ethan felt Flyte's penetrating gaze as he thought of the ghosts who had pursued him all the way from Madison to the quidditch pitch; of the gleam in Katrina Powles' eye when she saw Standish frozen and read the warning about the Cleansing; of the mysterious artist Van Tassel; and of his school mates' open suspicions about him and his own doubts: was he somehow linked to Hrothgar?

It all seemed too much for Ethan to endure, yet too diffuse to describe convincingly. So he didn't try.

"No, sir, really there's nothing else to say," Ethan told the headmaster.

As the news spread that a time-frozen student had joined Standish in the infirmary, fear bordering on panic infected the student body. Only the approach of Christmas, when nearly all students went home, allayed the almost universal anxiety afflicting the school. Ethan and Tim had remained at Kaaterskill the previous Christmas; it had been pleasant having the best seats in the Common Room for the whole break, though Ethan had missed being home for the holidays.

When he'd had time to think about the holidays, Ethan had assumed he would be spending his break at Kaaterskill again. Then one morning at breakfast, Bucky swooped down to the Bradbury table, looking very pleased with himself as he held out a small envelope, the address in a flowing hand that Ethan recognized as his mother's.

Ethan tossed a sausage to Bucky, stroked his feathers and then opened the envelope. As he read, he gave a little whoop that caused Anne and Tim to look at him curiously.

"I'm going to Uncle Bertrand's for Christmas!" he exclaimed. "And they've invited both of you...oh and Alec, too, of course."

"Cool!" Tim said. "I bet my folks won't object. I can't really go home anyway."

"I hope my parents will let me go," Anne added. "Especially since Simon and Katrina will be in the city."

"And that would be good why?" Ethan asked, perplexed. "Are you planning a little holiday get-together?"

"Certainly not, but we do want to find out what they know about the Cleansing, don't we?" Anne replied.

"Um, Anne, New York's a pretty big city," Tim pointed out. "What are the chances that we'll cross paths?"

"A lot better than you might think," Anne said. "Because we can get some inside information."

"You mean Peter?" Tim asked, referring to Katrina's twin. "You think he'd do it?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure of it," Anne said. "He is so ready to get back at her for last year...really, for his whole life. Plus he still feels guilty over what he did to you two last year."

"Well, even if we know where they're going to be, and we can get there ourselves," Ethan said. "How can we know they'll talk about the Cleansing?"

"Well, for one thing, I doubt they'll be able to help themselves," Anne said. "I guarantee it will come up."

"Ethan's amulet could come in handy," Tim suggested. "And I'll try to think of any other way to be sure we'll hear what they have to say."

"I wonder if you could Imperio them from under the amulet?" Anne asked idly.

"No!" Tim said vehemently. "First of all, they call it a Forbidden Curse for a reason! Second, we don't know how to do it...they don' t teach it even to 7th years. And third, when you cast spells under that amulet, they behave strangely."

Anne shrugged. "OK, you come up with something else, then," she said cheerily. "After all, you're the brains of this operation."

Ethan was unable to devote much time to Christmas plans over the next few weeks, though. Exams loomed before holidays and he had to spend most of his free time studying.

Tim had uncovered a couple of ways to get Brocklebank to talk, though he was pessimistic they would work.

"There's Polyjuice Potion," he told Ethan and Anne in the Common Room after dinner one night. "We could use it to change our appearance. If we looked like Van Nort and Harding, Brocklebank might tell us anything we asked."

"That sounds interesting,"Anne said, lifting her quill from a Charms essay. "That is, if you can stand looking like those two cretins."

"Well,it's probably a moot point," Tim said. I've never seen a more complicated potion. And it takes a month to make."

"Maybe if we can't find anything out over the holidays," Ethan said. "What else is there?"

"Well, veritaserum would make him tell us whatever he knows," Tim continued. "But we'd have to steal it from Renfro―if he even has any."

Just then, Peter Powles slid into an empty chair next to Anne. After looking around to make sure that no one else was listening, he whispered, "If you want to eavesdrop on Simon and my sister, you'll have a chance the day after Christmas. We're invited to the Brocklebanks' place in the city."

"That's great, Peter," Ethan said. "Where is it?"

"Well, I've only been there once, about 5 years ago," Peter said. "But it's huge...a whole floor in a big apartment building on Central Park West. The funny thing is, none of the muggles who live there even know their floor exists."

Ethan frowned, thinking of his great-uncle's house on Farrand Square. "Well, if the muggles can't see it," he said. "Isn't it likely we won't be able to, either, unless we're invited."

"And that's not bloody likely," Anne added with a shake of her red hair.

"There might be a way," Peter said. "If I could come up with a reason to get there a little later, then maybe they'd let me have the Fidelius note. I could meet you outside and let you in."

"We'd have to use your amulet," Tim observed.

"What makes you think the Brocklebanks will go along with this?" Anne asked.

"Well, they probably wouldn't mind if I wasn't there for the whole visit," Peter said. "I will be the only non-Tenskwatawa there, after all."

"Exactly," Anne countered. "Won't they just prefer to leave you standing outside?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure Dad won't go for that," Peter said, adding grimly, "Mom might, of course. But Katrina will probably want me there for the sport of it."

"It's worth a try," Ethan said. "But Peter, you'll need to tell us exactly where and when to meet you. And we'll need to know how to get out, too."

"And we still have to find a way to make sure they talk," Anne reminded them, giving Tim a meaningful look.

Tim nodded, but on the way up to the dorm that night, he whispered to Ethan, "Is this a plan or a recipe for disaster?"

"Could be either," Ethan said. "But for now it's all we've got."

Four days before the Winter Solstice, which was when most students would leave for the holidays, Tim rushed into the Common Room after the Library closed for the evening. Looking up from his last History of Magic essay of the term, Ethan could tell Tim had some exciting news to impart. Sitting across the room at an otherwise empty table, Anne also looked up. Tim sat down in a chair across from Anne and Ethan moved over to sit next to him.

Tim leaned over the table, glancing around briefly to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. But it was late, most Bradburys had already retired and the few remaining were half-dozing before the fire.

"Well, you've obviously found something out," Anne whispered. "Come on, out with it!"

"Well, I was taking one last look around the Library," Tim said. "To see if there was any potion or spell I'd missed that would help out with Simon and Katrina after Christmas."

"I thought you'd checked every book in the Library, even Special Collections," Ethan observed.

"So did I, but in the Potions section, I found this," Tim said as he pulled an ancient-looking tome out of his bookbag. "I swear it wasn't there a week ago."

"The Art of Imitation ," Ethan read the title from the cracked leather spine. "Maybe someone had it signed out."

"Could be. Anyway, most of these are almost as bad as Polyjuice Potion," Tim said, flipping pages before finally stopping near the middle. "But this one might work...and we might even be able to do it before we leave."

"Mimicavoci potion," Ethan read from the book. "Most of these ingredients are in the student stores. And it only takes a day to mature. This might work!"

Anne turned the book around so she could read it, too.

"Mimicavoci effectively allows the user to copy the voice of the person whose voice has been imprinted upon the potion," she read. "What does that mean―imprinting a voice on the potion?"

"If you read the recipe through, you'll see," Tim explained, pointing a bit further down the page. "During the twelve hours immediately following the final stirring, the Mimicavoci should be uncorked in the presence of the person whose voice is to be copied. The potionmaker must say the words voci registrada; the potion will then be imprinted with the next voice in earshot."

"Whoa, are you sure this is easier than Polyjuice?" Ethan asked.

"Nope," Tim answered. "And I didn't say so, either. It's quicker and it uses ingredients that we don't have to steal from Renfro's stores. It's really pretty ingenious―the secret is the use of the roasted myrtle leaves at the end. Nothing exotic about it at all. We'll need to have two vials, one for Simon's voice, the other for Katrina's."

"Well, we'd better get started soon, if we're going to do this at all," said Anne. "We can get the ingredients in Potions tomorrow."

"We'll probably have to make it up in the dorm," Ethan opined, adding as Anne scowled. "I know, but it needs to be out of the way and if we do it in our dorm there'll be two of us to look after the cauldron."

"If we start tomorrow afternoon, we'll have just enough time to finish before we leave," Tim said thoughtfully. "We'll have to do the imprinting on the steamboat."

At the end of Potions the next day, Tim kept Professor Renfro busy with questions about the final exam they'd just taken. Tim had clearly aced the test and their discussion focused on the finer points of the Vanishing potion they'd made. This gave Ethan and Anne just enough time to visit the students' supply cupboard unobserved. There they found the myrtle leaves, nail of bog creature, root of the Icelandic storgé plant, dried Indian paintbrush blossom, along with several glass vials. Anne hurriedly spooned the Mimicavoci ingredients into bags and slipped them and the vials into Ethan's bookbag. Then they slipped past Renfro and Tim, who were still deep in conversation.

"Got everything?" Tim asked as he caught up to them out in the corridor on the way to their next class.

"Check," Ethan said. "Tonight we can start the mixing."

As he and Tim carefully began making the Mimicavoci in the dorm that night, Marcus eyed the small cauldron curiously.

"What's cooking?" he asked, gazing at the azure puffs of smoke that rose from the surface of the liquid as Tim stirred.

"Just a little extra credit project," Ethan told him.

"What for?" Kyle chimed in.

"Can't reveal that, sorry," Tim said solemnly.

"Oh, come on, you can tell us," Marcus protested.

"We'll consider it when you're ready to tell us when we should expect a fireworks show," Ethan said.

Kyle and Marcus exchanged a glance, but said nothing else.

Ethan grinned. "So that's the way it's going to be," he said. "You keep your secrets and we'll keep ours."

They'd told Peter what they were doing, so when he arrived he feigned no interest in the potion.

By the time everyone gathered at the Main Door to board wagons for the ride to the Landing, Anne had not two, but three well-stoppered vials of Mimicavoci in the inside pocket of her robes ("one extra, just in case," Tim had said). While the boys had made the potion, Anne had practiced the imprinting incantation. They'd decided to perform the spell afternoon, with Peter's help.

It was a cold, clear day on the Hudson as Kaaterskill steamed south to Hoboken. As he walked the deck, Ethan was glad that his mother had packed his muggle winter coat way back in September. They took turns trying to unobtrusively keep an eye on Katrina and Simon, who true to form spent the entire morning in the company of Van Nort, Harding and a couple of other Tenskwatawa classmates.

Ethan picked at his lunch, and he could tell the others' nerves were affecting their appetites, too.

As Kaaterskill passed under the graceful Bear Mountain Bridge, the four conspirators went back on deck and spied Simon and Katrina near the bow. They looked at each other, nodding in silent agreement that it was time to put their plan into motion. They were counting on Peter to lure his sister into a confrontation.

The Bradburys sidled up to the rail, Peter right next to Simon and Katrina, Anne on his other side. Woody Harding sauntered up and joined his housemates, giving a dimly confused look at Ethan and his friends.

"Nice day, huh?" Peter said aloud, looking straight out at the river.

Ethan saw Anne reach inside her coat. He hoped the three Tenskwatawas didn't notice the vial she'd slipped into her hand.

Simon glanced disdainfully at Peter. "Until you showed up, Powles," he sneered.

Anne was ready to pull the cork from the first vial.

"There's no need to be rude, Simon," Peter said cheerfully, still staring out at the water. "Especially as we'll be seeing you on Boxing Day."

Simon gave Peter an odd look, as he was unused to Katrina's twin talking back to him. He opened his mouth to speak and Anne uncorked the vial. Ethan heard her say, firmly but quietly, "Voci Registrada."

"Yes, well perhaps you should stay home," Simon drawled. "That would make it more pleasant for the rest of us."

Anne popped the cork back in place and tucked the vial into her right pocket. Instantly she extracted the second vial from the left.

"Oh no, I wouldn't miss it," Peter continued, beaming at Simon. "I want to be sure to give your parents my best holiday greeting!"

Now Katrina looked askance at her twin. Anne pulled the next cork and muttered the spell again.

"Exams must have burnt out what's left of your mind, brother," Katrina spat. "I doubt any Brocklebank will look forward to your greeting."

As Anne pocketed the second vial and prepared the extra one, Peter turned his odd, cheerful smile on his sister and said, "Oh no, sis. They're much too refined to be unpleasant, I'm sure. After all, they're always nice enough to Woody, right Simon?"

Anne had just said the spell for a third time when Simon, Katrina and Woody all spoke at once, or so it seemed to Ethan.

"Whaddya mean?" Harding asked stupidly.

"You've been confunded, Peter!" Katrina exclaimed.

"Don't insult my parents, you scum!" Brocklebank sputtered, reaching for his wand.

As Simon moved towards him, Peter flinched and took a step backwards. His elbow brushed Anne's hand and she gasped as the last vial slipped from her hand. Ethan dove forward and caught the vial before it hit the deck. Somehow, not a drop spilled. He quickly took the cork form Anne's other hand, stoppered and pocketed it.

Tim had stepped around Ethan, between Peter and Simon.

"Don't try anything, Simon," he said firmly, wand at the ready.

Simon glared at him. "Don't interfere, mudblood!" he shouted.

But Katrina pulled Simon away.

"Leave it...for now," she said. "After all, we'll have Peter all to ourselves after Christmas. Nobody to protect him at your place."

"Yeah, OK," Brocklebank relented, pocketing his wand again. The Tenskwatawas moved closer to the bow. The Bradburys headed into the cabin and found seats. Everyone but Tim seemed shaken by their close shave.

"Hey, we got what we needed, right?" he said. "That act was perfect, Peter."

"Thanks," Peter said weakly. "Don't let's do it again, though."

"You don't think they noticed anything?" Anne asked. "You know, when I dropped the vial."

"I don't think so. Tim distracted them," Ethan said as he reached into his pocket. "Oh yeah, here's that other vial."

Anne took it and wrote a "K" on the cork, then stuffed it into her own pocket.

By the time Kaaterskill steamed into its Hoboken pier, the winter afternoon sun was shining across the Manhattan skyline, glinting off the lofty spire of the Empire State Building and the even taller rectangles to its south. As Ethan gazed on New York from the rail, he wondered what the holidays would be like in a city of millions of people.

Uncle Bertrand was waiting for them. He gathered Ethan, Anne, Tim and Alec and steered them onto the Wunderground for what proved to be an uneventful trip to Farrand Square. As the train slid through the subway station. Ethan saw crowds of muggles rushing to and fro with their holiday parcels. He hoped he'd have a chance to do some shopping for presents himself before Christmas morning.

Aunt Eilonwy welcomed them at the door and ushered them to their rooms. Anne had a lare guest room to herself on the top floor. The three boys shared the same room they'd had back in September.

Dinner was delicious and conversation flowed easily. It appeared that Uncle Bertrand had gone to school with Anne's great-grandfather. Bertrand had many questions about Anne's family.

"So, you still live on that beautiful little rock off Eastport?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I grew up on Findlay's Island," Anne answered.

"Lovely," Bertrand said, looking away nostalgically. "Well do I remember visiting your great-grandpa Bert there on holiday from Kaaterskill. Glad to return the favor for you now."

"Pardon me, Mr. Belanger," Alec piped up. "Did you say you were both named Bert?"

"Yes, we had the same nickname," Uncle Bertrand explained. "He was Albert, you see, and I was Bertrand. Both being the same year in Bradbury, everyone got us mixed up. So naturally we ended up as best friends."

Bertrand sat back in his chair and looked off wistfully again.

"What was he like?" Anne asked.

Bertrand looked at her sadly. "Of course, you never met him," he said. "Generous to a fault, funny, reddest hair I'd ever seen until I met you, the best Chaser ever." Turning to Tim, he added, "Though I hear he may finally have competition on that score. And brave...too brave, really, in the end."

"What happened?" Ethan asked.

Uncle Bertrand hesitated. Anne answered, "He was killed by Grindelwald. My dad told me."

"Yes, he was one of the first volunteers from the States to go over," Bertrand explained. "Before the authorities decided to take on Grindelwald. Joined the underground opposition."

"Dad said he actually infiltrated Grindelwald's inner circle," Anne added. "Apparently great-grandpa was supposed to assassinate him."

"Yes, that was the plan," Bertrand affirmed. "He was the only one with the courage to volunteer. Came closer to pulling it off than any one had a right to expect."

"What went wrong?" Alec asked eagerly.

"As so often happens, a spy betrayed him," Bertrand said bitterly. "Of course, Grindelwald had spies everywhere. Ang Hsu led a rescue team, but they were lucky just to recover Bert's body. Grindelwald killed him personally, it's said."

"He's buried on the Island," Anne said. "Nobody talks about him much, just the one time I asked my dad about him in the graveyard."

"He was valiant," Bertrand said, shaking his head. "But only one wizard was a match for Grindelwald."

"And who was that?" Alec asked.

"Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts, of course," Aunt Eilonwy chimed in. "He'd known Grindelwald years earlier. Finally, Dumbledore challenged and defeated him―imprisoned Grindelwald in his own fortress. Still locked up in Nurmengard after all these years, as far as anyone knows."

With that, the table fell silent for a time. Dessert appeared and as they ate pumpkin pie, Ethan decided to ask about going into Manhattan.

"Aunt Eilonwy, I still need to do some Christmas shopping," he said. "I was wondering if I could go into the city tomorrow."

"Hmm, well, I just don't know," she said fretfully. "Bert and I do have some things to do here. I guess I could spare him for the afternoon. I suppose your friends will want to go, too."

"Yes, please!" Anne said.

"As long as nobody peeks at what I get," said Ethan.

The next day dawned clear and cold. After breakfast, the Belangers invited them to help decorate the 8-foot spruce in the front window. Scattered on the living room floor were numerous boxes of ornaments ready to placed on the tree.

"The sooner Bertrand gets the tree decorated, the sooner he'll be able to take you into the city," Eilonwy told them.

"Yes, please go ahead and pitch in," Uncle Bertrand said. "Just leave that box marked 'Fairies' to me."

Anne dove in first, eagerly opening a box and starting to levitate ornaments onto the tree.

"This is just how we do it at home," she told the others with a smile.

Tim and Ethan joined in. The box Ethan opened was full of miniature Catherine Wheels, which whirled magically once they been floated up to their places on the tree. Tim's box held multi-colored candles. Once Tim had them in place, Bertrand cast a spell to light them all.

Only Alec held back. When Ethan urged him to help, he said, "But we'd barely finished levitation before exams. I'm not very good."

"Then you need practice," Ethan told him, floating a Santa Claus ornament that kept saying "Ho!Ho!Ho!" Alec grasped his wand and said "Wingardium Leviosa!" just as Ethan let Santa go. Soon Santa was located about half way up the tree and Alec had joined in the decorating.

Ethan didn't really know how it was done, but Uncle Bertrand had charmed the ornaments to orbit the the tree. And when all the other decorations were hung, he opened the box labelled "Fairies." From within he levitated several dozen entranced fairies (in assorted colors), then cast a spell to reanimate them. They circled the tree, wings fluttering amidst the rotating Catherine Wheels, candles and other ornaments.

After lunch, Uncle Bertrand and the four students took the "W" directly to the basement of Cortelyou's Department Store in Stuyvesant's Alley. Exiting the station, an off-key chorus of "I'm Dreaming of a Charmed Christmas" greeted them. Ethan beheld a sea of red, green and white lights glinting around stacks of holiday merchandise. Along each side of the aisle leading into the store were a dozen surly-looking dwarves in Santa suits.

"Merry Christmas!" Alec said to one of them as they passed. The dwarf just scowled at Alec and began joylessly singing "Have Yourself a Magic Little Christmas" with his fellows.

"Why don't you all spread out and find what you need," Uncle Bertrand suggested. "We'll have tea up in the restaurant on the 5th floor when you're done."

Ethan headed to the Quidditch supplies section first and bought a Quaffle-shot Trainer for Tim. Next he looked for Anne's gift which he found more problematical, since he had very little idea what a 12-year old girl might want. After looking fruitlessly in the Girls' Clothing and Accessories―turning crimson when an elderly sales-witch offered to help him find "just the right thing for that special someone"--Ethan decided on a book instead: Influential Witches of the 20th Century and their Magical Secretes. He ran into Tim in the Books department.

"Almost done," Tim told him. "Just have to find something for Anne."

"Good luck," Ethan said. "I got her a book."

"Oh, there's an idea," said Tim. "I'm looking for the kind of stuff my sisters would like. 'Course they've never seen Cortelyou's. Oh, if you're still shopping for Alec, don't get him a pocket sneakoscope or he'll get two. He needs to know where his enemies are more than anyone I've ever met!"

Since Tim had gotten Alec such a serious gift, Ethan decided on something more frivolous: a portable Wizarding Wireless receiver. Then he settled on a small bottle of perfume for Aunt Eilonwy and a traveling cape for Uncle Bertrand. After collecting Ethan's payment, the cheery old clerk wrapped his packages and then shrunk them all to fit into a single shopping bag. "Just remember, say Cortelyou's Christmas to restore them, dear," she told him.

The others had already joined Uncle Bertrand by the time Ethan arrived in the restaurant, an elegant room with burgundy tapestries and potted plants that overlooked an atrium at the center of the building. Diners along one side of the restaurant had a panoramic view of the street outside.

"I trust your quest was successful," said Uncle Bertrand, sipping a cup of tea and glancing at Ethan's bag. Alec had already finished a large pumpkin juice. Anne and Tim were each having butterbeer. A large plate of delicious-looking pastries adorned the center of the table. "What will you have to drink, Ethan?"

"Butterbeer, please," Ethan said without hesitation as he sat down between Anne and Alec. Instantly a steaming mug appeared before him.

"Cortelyou's is the only place left in this city for a real high tea," Bertrand observed wistfully as Ethan helped himself to a blueberry scone. The young folks discussed their shopping experience a bit, skirting around any specifics about their purchases.

"I really like the way they shrink the parcels to fit in one bag," Alec said. "But I wonder if anyone ever forgot the counter charm?"

"Oh, yes, it's happened," Bertrand said. "But Cortelyou's has a team on call, ready to apparate anywhere if there's trouble."

"Hope they're cheerier than their dwarves," Ethan said.

Bertrand laughed. "Yes, Cortelyou's dwarves are an institution, you know. They've been helping dampen irrational holiday exuberance for over a century."

Anne looked up from her tea and raised her hand to wave at someone across the room.

Ethan followed her gaze and saw Peter Powles approaching, along with his sister Katrina, as well as a tall, blonde witch in emerald-green robes and a short, somewhat dumpy-looking wizard in pinstriped grey robes and a rectangular hat. Ethan guessed these were the Powles' parents.

"Hi, Peter!" Anne called. Peter looked over, gave a tentative wave and then looked nervously at his mother. A brief conversation ensued, then Katrina and Mrs. Powles continued toward a table on the other side of the room, while Peter and Mr. Powles stopped to greet the Ethan and his party.

"Hello, all!" Peter said. "This is my dad, Elfric Powles. Dad, these are some of my housemates: Ethan Lloyd, Tim Van der Meulen, Anne Findlay and Alec Evans."

"Pleased to meet you all―especially you, Mr. Lloyd," Mr. Powles said. "Peter speaks very highly of you, all."

Ethan blushed briefly, then spoke. "Thank you, Mr. Powles. And this is my great-uncle, Bertrand Belanger."

"Yes, Bert and I are old acquaintances, Mr. Lloyd," Peter's father said as he shook Bertrand's hand.

"Good to see you, Elfric," Bertrand said. "I trust you and family are all well? How is Ariadne?"

"Quite well, quite well," Mr. Powles answered. Tim and Peter were whispering to each other on the other side of the table. Mr. Powles continued, "Peter and I must go join her and Katrina, but it was good to meet you all!"

Peter hung back a moment before following his father. Tim, Anne and Ethan huddled around him. Alec tried to join them, but found himself blocked out of the circle.

"We're on for the day after Christmas," Peter whispered. "I was going to send you an owl, but here we are. So, meet me in front of the Natural History museum at 2:00, OK?"

Ethan nodded, then noticed Uncle Bertrand and Alec looking at him curiously. He decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Uncle Bertrand, we'd like to come in to the city the day after Christmas to meet Peter and see the Natural History museum. Would that be OK?"

"A curious way to spend Boxing Day," Bertrand said. "Your great-aunt may not be thrilled with the idea, not after your little adventure last fall, but I imagine we can convince her."

"Thanks!" Ethan said. "Well, see you later then, Peter."

"OK, Merry Christmas, guys," Peter said as he headed over to join his family. Ethan thought Peter looked rather glum as he sat down between his mother and Katrina.

"Well, we'd best be off to Brooklyn or Eilonwy will start to worry," Bertrand said, placing several coins on the table. These promptly vanished, replaced by a couple of silver sickles and several bronze knuts. As they left, Ethan noticed Mrs. Powles berating her son. Over the general din of the room he heard her say, "Not a word of this to Cassius and Calpurnia! I can only imagine what they'd think!"

Back to Vinegar Hill the Wunderground took them. Inside 13 Farrand Square, they deposited their bags under the tree, which was fully lit, the fairies still circling it slowly.

"We'll expand them later," Uncle Bertrand told Ethan under his breath, for Eilonwy was already ushering them into the dining room for what could only be described as a feast: roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mashed and sweet potatoes, gravy, creamed onions and numerous relishes. Over dessert – a trio of pies with a bread pudding – they broached the subject of their proposed visit to the museum with Eilonwy.

She frowned. "Manhattan's usually packed with muggles from the suburbs on Boxing Day. Why don't you wait a day?" she asked.

"Well, we want to visit the museum with Peter," Ethan explained. "And that's the only time he can make it into the city."

"We promise not to get too mixed up with the muggles," Tim added earnestly. "Just a bit in the museum, of course. They have a dinosaur fossil there that was found about 10 miles from my home, would you believe that?"

"I might just observe muggle behavior a bit," Anne said. "I'm thinking of Muggle Studies as an elective next year, if only so I can understand what these guys are talking about."

In the end, Eilonwy relented with a shrug. "I'm not sure why a dinosaur fossil would be so fascinating," she harrumphed. Then she looked Ethan in the eye and added, "Just mind, stay out of trouble or your parents will be furious."

Ethan thought about that as he tried to fall asleep that night in the big room on the third floor. Tim was already snoring. Alec was sitting cross-legged on a window seat, looking out over Farrand Square. What if it doesn't work? Ethan wondered. If we don't even get into the Brocklebank's apartment, we'll be fine. If Peter does get us in, that's when things will get dicey.

He got up and walked over to the window next to Alec. The other three had decided early that Alec could only be a hindrance to their plans. There was no way they could leave him in Vinegar Hill while they went to the city. Likewise, there was no way they could imagine taking Alec inside the Brocklebanks' with them.

So Anne had volunteered to stay with Alec while Ethan and Tim took the Mimicavoci potion and spied on Katrina and Simon. Tim had asked if she was sure; it was so uncharacteristic of Anne to cede an adventure to someone else.

"Well, of course I would like to hear what you sound like with Katrina's voice," she'd said lightly. "But it may be just as dangerous keeping Alec out of trouble in the city."

Now, gazing at the bright holiday lights outlining the houses across the square, Ethan wondered about that.

"It's pretty out there," Alec said. "You'd never know it was as run-down as it looks during the day."

"Yeah, the muggles do a good job covering some things up, too," Ethan agreed. "You all right then, Alec? You look worried."

"Oh, I'm just thinking about mom and Madison," the younger boy replied. "This is the first time I've been away from home for Christmas."

"A bit homesick, eh?"

"Not really," Alec said quickly. "After all, I'm here with you all and your uncle and aunt and this city is amazing! I'm more worried about mom, she's all alone."

"But my parents are having her over tomorrow," Ethan said. "They said so in their last owl post, remember? She'll be all right."

"I hope so," Alec said. "Since dad died, I'm the only family she has – nearby, I mean. And also, I was wondering..."

He stopped.

"Wondering what?" Ethan asked.

"I was wondering, since my mom and all her family are muggles, whether maybe my dad's side had any magic in them."

"Maybe, maybe not," Ethan said. "They say magic can pop out of nowhere in an all-muggle family. You may be the first in your family."

Alec looked faintly disappointed. "I know that," he said. "But I'd feel better if I came from a magical family, like you..."

"That wouldn't make you a better wizard – or a better person," Ethan told him. "Look at Brocklebank – magic back as far as anyone can count and bad straight through. You'll be fine – because of what you do yourself, not because of who your ancestors were."

"I guess so," Alec said with a yawn. "Thanks, Ethan."

"Now let's go to bed," Ethan said. "Before Santa Claus gets here." And this time, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.