December 1985
Aaron sat at his usual preparation station in the kitchen with a bowl of squash soup and a mug of hot cider, A History of Magic open on the table next to him. Across the room, Lara sat on the pantry floor with sheets of parchment and a quill, surrounded by baskets and crates of food, taking inventory and preparing order lists for the remainder of the school year. The pantry door was small but, because of the spells used during its construction, the room stretched far behind the adjacent wall and the shelves towered six stories into the air. There were wooden ladders, platforms, and pulleys, but Lara didn't need them. She used her wand to take down inventory she couldn't reach, whispering Leviosa and Accio as she worked.
The cider was still too hot to drink. Aaron pushed it to the side and highlighted a passage in his textbook.
"Escalation of attempts by muggles to force wizards and witches to perform acts of magic for muggle ends; muggle-led torture and killing of wizards and witches, including burning hundreds of witches at the stake; and, widespread persecution of wizarding children by muggles, drove members of the magical community to call for total seclusion from the non-magical world and the majority of the population. Upon the signature of the International Stature of Secrecy in 1689, wizards [and witches] went into hiding for good."
A small gray owl flew down the stairwell and into the pantry. Lara took The Daily Prophet off its leg and gave it a carrot. The owl flew past Aaron and back out of the kitchen.
Lara stood up. Her right leg had fallen asleep. She read while she walked on needles, waiting for the feeling to return. She left the pantry and tossed the paper on the table next to Aaron.
"You said to tell you when the act was back in the news," Lara said. "It's on the front page."
Aaron picked up the paper and read the headline. Interruptions and Threats during Third Muggle Registration Act Hearing.
Lara said, "Sounds like Dumbledore is at it again."
"Chief Warlock and Grand Sorcerer Albus Dumbledore arrived late to the fourth hearing for the Muggle Registration Act, interrupting fellow Wizengamot member Marcus Carrow. Dumbledore spoke about a series of muggle-born killings, which have not been confirmed by The Ministry of Magic or The Daily Prophet at this time, and blamed the Wizengamot for failing to act. After threatening the Minister of Magic, Dumbledore was asked to leave the chamber."
"I'd take all that with a grain of salt, The Prophet has never liked Dumbledore," Lara said.
"At this time, it is unclear when the Wizengamot will vote, but the Minister of Magic stated that she would not be persuaded to rush a decision on legislation as explosive as the Muggle Registration Act, especially not when members of her own Wizengamot are unable to behave accordingly."
Lara used a charm to cool down Aaron's steaming mug of cider and handed it back to him. "Don't worry. There's a lot of good witches and wizards on the Wizengamot. They won't let the act pass. The Prophet just likes to stir things up and make it all sound worse than it is. Our names aren't going on any list, not while Dumbledore has anything to say about it."
Lara walked back into the pantry.
Aaron crumbled up The Prophet and threw it against the wall. It bounced off and rolled beneath a cabinet filled with baking sheets and trays.
It doesn't matter what I do, or can't do. I'll always be a second-class citizen in this stupid world. I wish I was back in Glasgow. Mr. Weasley should have left me there when I told him I couldn't use magic. Now, they want to register and monitor what I do and where I am? Like the Gestapo? Because I don't come from magic? I hate it here, I hate this whole stupid world. I HATE magic. I never should have –
In the pantry, a stack of boxes on one of the top shelves collapsed and fell.
Lara yelled, "Fuck!", and pulled out her wand. "Fucking Wingardium Leviosa!"
There was a loud crash as the boxes broke apart and the glass contents shattered on the stone floor.
Aaron ran to help. Lara had caught most of the boxes in the air with the levitation charm and avoided being crushed, but the boxes had held heavy jars of tomato sauce and the floor around her was covered in red paste and broken shards of wood.
"Shite," Lara said, looking at the mess.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, fine. Heard it all fall in time to do something. I stacked those boxes too fucking high."
Aaron's hands shook. "I'll get a mop."
"No, I can clean this up with a few charms. Don't worry about it."
Lot of good I can do.
Aaron heard movement and turned to see two large barn owls fly into the kitchen. They landed on the table next to his open textbook. Aaron untied packages from their legs and took a letter from the one on the left. The owl tilted its head and pecked the closest package.
"Right, right," Aaron said, "that was a lot of work."
He went to the bread box and took out two muffins Eni had given him before she left for the holidays. He held the muffins out to the owls, who devoured them and left the room.
Aaron opened the letter.
Happy Christmas, Aaron! We hope you are doing well. Molly and I were disappointed when Dumbledore didn't let you join us for the holidays, but I suppose it is nice to have an income. We didn't know if you were allowed to spend much of it, or what all of it goes toward school, but Charlie said you had about grown out of the robes from last year, so Bill found another set and some of his other old clothes this morning. If you don't need them, just give them back to Charlie, but we thought maybe it would give you something to open today. I really hope all is well and you are enjoying yourself. Write back when you get a chance. I would love to hear about Hogwarts from your perspective.
It was signed, Arthur Weasley and Family.
P.S. Molly made the cookies. They are quite good.
Aaron smiled and tore open the first package. A paper bag filled with cinnamon chocolate chip cookies was stacked on top a new set of robes. The second package contained a few shirts, jeans, and shoes. Aaron pulled off his old trainers and tried on the new pair. He walked around the kitchen. They were a little big, but they didn't hurt his feet.
Aaron ate one of the cookies and took out another one for Lara. He threw his old trainers, and the crumbled newspaper, into the rubbish bin.