Chapter 8 – The Matter Eraser
Two days later at mail time, Chris's owl came swooping down to land in front of Liz's plate. It carried a letter and a package. "I wonder what this could be?" Liz said to Rachel and Michael.
"I dunno," said Michael, his mouth full of food.
Liz opened the letter first. It read:
Dear Liz,
I know you wanted an invisibility cloak, but this is the next best thing. Use it responsibly!
Chris
"The next best thing?" Liz wondered aloud. She opened the lid and took out a small slice of rubber. "Um...what is it?"
"Look, there's a slip of paper inside," said Rachel. "Read it!"
Liz picked it up. "Matter Eraser?" she read doubtfully. "Odd. It says to rub matter eraser over things you want to be erased, and then, when you want them to reappear, rub over them again. Guaranteed to last two hundred years, or your fourteen Galleons are paid back in full. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
"Fourteen Galleons?" Michael said. "That's a lot for a little sliver of rubber."
"Your uncles are ripping people off!" said Rachel.
Michael shrugged. "I can't help it. What do you want me to do?"
Rachel sighed and sat back in her chair.
"Oh, gosh, Chris spent fourteen Galleons on me!" Liz exclaimed. "How could he?"
"Oh, yes," said Rachel sardonically. "How dare he get you a gift for no apparent reason! The nerve of him!"
"I can't go thank him today; I have classes," said Liz. "And no Care of Magical Creatures today...I'll go tonight."
"But curfew for third-years is eight-thirty! You know that, it's mid- October," said Rachel.
"Hello? I'll use my matter eraser. Easy."
"If you say so," Rachel said dubiously. "But don't expect me to go. Professor Rosenberg is making us research non-magical pets, which hate to be the most boring things in the history of the world. That man really needs a clue."
"Last time I checked, you were the ones who sighed up for Muggle Studies."
Michael rolled his eyes. "So how is Professor Stickler?"
"Pretty good. I believe we're starting a unit on ehwaz tomorrow. It's one of the ancient runes," she added, seeing the puzzled looks on their faces.
"Ah, right," Michael said, stuffing the rest of his toast down his throat.
That night, Liz rubbed the matter eraser all over herself and her wand and set off. Chris couldn't afford to spend fourteen Galleons if it wasn't Christmas or her birthday. What was he playing at? But Rachel's caustic remarks, along with one of Mrs. Smith's favorite sayings ("Never look a gift horse in the mouth") rang in her ears as she approached Hagrid's cabin.
Liz crept over to Chris's window and knocked on it. "Chris!" she hissed loudly. "Chris! Wake up!"
He started and sat up in bed, looking for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing, he lay back down.
Liz groaned and quickly rubbed the eraser on her face. "Chris, get up, it's me, Liz!"
He looked out the window and almost yelled. "What is it?" she hissed impatiently. Then she realized a floating head would look pretty bizarre. "I'm using the eraser you gave me. What possessed you to spend fourteen Galleons on it?"
He shrugged. "Did you want me to spend that four thousand Galleons on a cloak?"
"No!"
"So why did you come down here?"
"To thank you, I guess."
"Well, then, you're welcome."
It occurred to Liz right then that if that was all she had planned to say, she could have waited until tomorrow during Care of Magical Creatures rather than risk expulsion. He hadn't even given a reason why he had gotten it for her.
"Well," said Chris, "if that's all..."
But suddenly it wasn't all. Liz felt, once again, that overwhelming sense of power that was inexplicably always followed by disaster. And with it came a feeling of—heat.
A spark. It started in the scrubby grass on the edge of the cabin, almost directly beneath Chris's window. Liz panicked. "Chris," she choked, close to hyperventilating. "Fire. Fire!"
"What?"
"Fire! I need water!"
"I can't wake Hagrid up! Don't you know a spell or something?"
Right. Liz felt embarrassed that she hadn't thought of that before. She whipped out her wand and said, "Aqueosa!" A jet of water squirted at the small patch of fire and quenched it. All that was left there was a black patch of ashy grass. Liz looked up at Chris. "Sorry."
"What happened?" he asked.
"I told you my magic was out of control. Things like that happen a lot. To me."
"That must be hard."
"It is. Well, I guess I better go. Just wanted to...say thank you."
"Bye!"
Liz left, more confused than when she had come. She had almost set Hagrid's house on fire! This magic was dangerous and she had to learn to control it, or someone she knew might get hurt.
Liz, Michael, and Rachel had started giving Chris lessons by now. He had improved significantly but not so much that they advertised the fact that they were breaking Ministry laws, especially to Hagrid. He remained blissfully clueless, convinced that they had taken his advice and stopped.
Halloween arrived. The third-years spent most of the day at Hogsmeade, where Liz and Rachel finally met Michael's uncle's twin, Fred Weasley. He was much the same as George had been.
They returned, exhausted but content, with the prospect of the Halloween feast coming later. When Rachel headed down to the common room, Liz told her she was tired and stayed up in the dorm.
"All right," she told herself once Rachel was gone, "I wish my trunk was on my bed."
The trunk disappeared, but it didn't come back. Instead, a disheveled pile of clothes landed on her bed. No trunk came.
"Hello? Trunk?" Liz said, mostly to herself. But her trunk landed, not on her bed, but on her foot. "Ow!" she cried. But a little pain was nothing if she could harness these out-of-control powers.
Maybe she should start smaller. Yes, that was it. She extracted a sock from the huge pile of clothes and set it at the foot of the bed. "Oh, please let this work," she muttered. "I wish it was on the chair."
The power pulsed through her once again, but with it came the feeling of being watched. It felt as if thousands of eyes were searching her, creeping all over her, and Liz didn't like it. The horrible feeling overwhelmed and overpowered her. Liz knew she was going to hit the floor, but she passed out before she hit it.
She woke up to someone banging on the door. Her head felt like it weighed twice as much as the rest of her body, and yells coming from the other side of the door pounded through her head. "Liz? Liz! Are you in there?" Rachel yelled.
Liz pulled herself together and stood on wobbly legs. "I'm fine," she called weakly, her voice cracking halfway through the second word.
"Unlock the door! I brought you some food."
Liz hurried and let Rachel in. Rachel handed Liz the food, which Liz ate on the spot. Rachel placed herself precariously on the edge of Liz's bed, next to the pile of clothes, and said, "Are you feeling all right?"
Liz nearly choked on the flask of pumpkin juice Rachel had brought her. "What makes you say that?"
"You never came to the feast, and you said you were tired earlier, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm...I'm a bit better, thanks."
She took a large sip from the flask. Then, with sudden determination, she said, "Rachel, I wasn't tired before, but I am now." And she proceeded to explain the whole ordeal to Rachel, whose eyes got wider and wider with every word Liz spoke.
Finally, when Liz was done, Rachel exhaled slowly. "Wow," she said. "You passed out?"
"Yeah. I don't feel too good. I think I'll go to bed."
Liz refilled her trunk with all her clothing, lay down in bed, pulled the hangings together, and pulled the covers over her head. What had happened? She had never fainted while her magic had been going haywire. Then again, she had never tried to use that magic on command, either. With all these things to think about until morning, Liz fell asleep.
Two days later at mail time, Chris's owl came swooping down to land in front of Liz's plate. It carried a letter and a package. "I wonder what this could be?" Liz said to Rachel and Michael.
"I dunno," said Michael, his mouth full of food.
Liz opened the letter first. It read:
Dear Liz,
I know you wanted an invisibility cloak, but this is the next best thing. Use it responsibly!
Chris
"The next best thing?" Liz wondered aloud. She opened the lid and took out a small slice of rubber. "Um...what is it?"
"Look, there's a slip of paper inside," said Rachel. "Read it!"
Liz picked it up. "Matter Eraser?" she read doubtfully. "Odd. It says to rub matter eraser over things you want to be erased, and then, when you want them to reappear, rub over them again. Guaranteed to last two hundred years, or your fourteen Galleons are paid back in full. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
"Fourteen Galleons?" Michael said. "That's a lot for a little sliver of rubber."
"Your uncles are ripping people off!" said Rachel.
Michael shrugged. "I can't help it. What do you want me to do?"
Rachel sighed and sat back in her chair.
"Oh, gosh, Chris spent fourteen Galleons on me!" Liz exclaimed. "How could he?"
"Oh, yes," said Rachel sardonically. "How dare he get you a gift for no apparent reason! The nerve of him!"
"I can't go thank him today; I have classes," said Liz. "And no Care of Magical Creatures today...I'll go tonight."
"But curfew for third-years is eight-thirty! You know that, it's mid- October," said Rachel.
"Hello? I'll use my matter eraser. Easy."
"If you say so," Rachel said dubiously. "But don't expect me to go. Professor Rosenberg is making us research non-magical pets, which hate to be the most boring things in the history of the world. That man really needs a clue."
"Last time I checked, you were the ones who sighed up for Muggle Studies."
Michael rolled his eyes. "So how is Professor Stickler?"
"Pretty good. I believe we're starting a unit on ehwaz tomorrow. It's one of the ancient runes," she added, seeing the puzzled looks on their faces.
"Ah, right," Michael said, stuffing the rest of his toast down his throat.
That night, Liz rubbed the matter eraser all over herself and her wand and set off. Chris couldn't afford to spend fourteen Galleons if it wasn't Christmas or her birthday. What was he playing at? But Rachel's caustic remarks, along with one of Mrs. Smith's favorite sayings ("Never look a gift horse in the mouth") rang in her ears as she approached Hagrid's cabin.
Liz crept over to Chris's window and knocked on it. "Chris!" she hissed loudly. "Chris! Wake up!"
He started and sat up in bed, looking for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing, he lay back down.
Liz groaned and quickly rubbed the eraser on her face. "Chris, get up, it's me, Liz!"
He looked out the window and almost yelled. "What is it?" she hissed impatiently. Then she realized a floating head would look pretty bizarre. "I'm using the eraser you gave me. What possessed you to spend fourteen Galleons on it?"
He shrugged. "Did you want me to spend that four thousand Galleons on a cloak?"
"No!"
"So why did you come down here?"
"To thank you, I guess."
"Well, then, you're welcome."
It occurred to Liz right then that if that was all she had planned to say, she could have waited until tomorrow during Care of Magical Creatures rather than risk expulsion. He hadn't even given a reason why he had gotten it for her.
"Well," said Chris, "if that's all..."
But suddenly it wasn't all. Liz felt, once again, that overwhelming sense of power that was inexplicably always followed by disaster. And with it came a feeling of—heat.
A spark. It started in the scrubby grass on the edge of the cabin, almost directly beneath Chris's window. Liz panicked. "Chris," she choked, close to hyperventilating. "Fire. Fire!"
"What?"
"Fire! I need water!"
"I can't wake Hagrid up! Don't you know a spell or something?"
Right. Liz felt embarrassed that she hadn't thought of that before. She whipped out her wand and said, "Aqueosa!" A jet of water squirted at the small patch of fire and quenched it. All that was left there was a black patch of ashy grass. Liz looked up at Chris. "Sorry."
"What happened?" he asked.
"I told you my magic was out of control. Things like that happen a lot. To me."
"That must be hard."
"It is. Well, I guess I better go. Just wanted to...say thank you."
"Bye!"
Liz left, more confused than when she had come. She had almost set Hagrid's house on fire! This magic was dangerous and she had to learn to control it, or someone she knew might get hurt.
Liz, Michael, and Rachel had started giving Chris lessons by now. He had improved significantly but not so much that they advertised the fact that they were breaking Ministry laws, especially to Hagrid. He remained blissfully clueless, convinced that they had taken his advice and stopped.
Halloween arrived. The third-years spent most of the day at Hogsmeade, where Liz and Rachel finally met Michael's uncle's twin, Fred Weasley. He was much the same as George had been.
They returned, exhausted but content, with the prospect of the Halloween feast coming later. When Rachel headed down to the common room, Liz told her she was tired and stayed up in the dorm.
"All right," she told herself once Rachel was gone, "I wish my trunk was on my bed."
The trunk disappeared, but it didn't come back. Instead, a disheveled pile of clothes landed on her bed. No trunk came.
"Hello? Trunk?" Liz said, mostly to herself. But her trunk landed, not on her bed, but on her foot. "Ow!" she cried. But a little pain was nothing if she could harness these out-of-control powers.
Maybe she should start smaller. Yes, that was it. She extracted a sock from the huge pile of clothes and set it at the foot of the bed. "Oh, please let this work," she muttered. "I wish it was on the chair."
The power pulsed through her once again, but with it came the feeling of being watched. It felt as if thousands of eyes were searching her, creeping all over her, and Liz didn't like it. The horrible feeling overwhelmed and overpowered her. Liz knew she was going to hit the floor, but she passed out before she hit it.
She woke up to someone banging on the door. Her head felt like it weighed twice as much as the rest of her body, and yells coming from the other side of the door pounded through her head. "Liz? Liz! Are you in there?" Rachel yelled.
Liz pulled herself together and stood on wobbly legs. "I'm fine," she called weakly, her voice cracking halfway through the second word.
"Unlock the door! I brought you some food."
Liz hurried and let Rachel in. Rachel handed Liz the food, which Liz ate on the spot. Rachel placed herself precariously on the edge of Liz's bed, next to the pile of clothes, and said, "Are you feeling all right?"
Liz nearly choked on the flask of pumpkin juice Rachel had brought her. "What makes you say that?"
"You never came to the feast, and you said you were tired earlier, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm...I'm a bit better, thanks."
She took a large sip from the flask. Then, with sudden determination, she said, "Rachel, I wasn't tired before, but I am now." And she proceeded to explain the whole ordeal to Rachel, whose eyes got wider and wider with every word Liz spoke.
Finally, when Liz was done, Rachel exhaled slowly. "Wow," she said. "You passed out?"
"Yeah. I don't feel too good. I think I'll go to bed."
Liz refilled her trunk with all her clothing, lay down in bed, pulled the hangings together, and pulled the covers over her head. What had happened? She had never fainted while her magic had been going haywire. Then again, she had never tried to use that magic on command, either. With all these things to think about until morning, Liz fell asleep.