Chapter 2

There are times in life, Colin thought to himself, where it simply seems

as though everyone is being the way they were for the precise reason of annoying

you. Today was one of those days. After discovering that his father no longer

possessed the pictures, Colin had left the depot to retrace his father's route.

That had been 4 hours ago. He was tired. His back ached, but that was nothing

compared to his feet. It felt like someone had replaced his feet with concrete

bricks and they were screaming at him "Quit! Sit down! Rest! Go home! Anything

put keep up this mindless search!" but, with the secrecy rules in mind, not to

mention expulsion from Hogwarts, Colin continued. He peeked over a hedge at the

front stoop of a house and looked around, trying to look like a casual passerby

but that was difficult considering the fact he was really trying to snoop.

Fortunately there wasn't an old bat out front to hit him with a garden hose like

at the last house. "Thank goodness for small miracles," he muttered, straining

his neck for some hint that five pictures were dragged inside along with a few

bottles of milk. Just as he was leaving the part of the sidewalk in front of the

house he caught it: one of his pictures (showing Hogwarts gleaming on a bright

spring day), taped casually to the doorbell, grabbed his attention like a white

flag of surrender and he wrenched himself backwards.

Agnes paced the kitchen restlessly, alternately looking at her watch and

the four pictures she had lined up next to one another on the tabletop. "Come

on," she hissed into the phone receiver. What a day for her friend Emily to be

incommunicado. She glanced at her watch again. "Where the heck are you?" she

asked out load and then groaned as the answering machine picked up for the

thousandth time. She hung up the phone and glared at it, as though it were at

fault for everything. Here it was, the most exciting thing ever to happen to her

and she had no one to share it with, at least no one who would believe her and

not simply think it was another raving of an avid fantasy fan. Real proof that

dragons existed! That people flew on broomsticks! And that certain plants really

did have teeth and could choke you to death. She peered at one of the pictures

closely, examining it once again for any evidence of forgery. It looked real

enough. Who could fake something like this? It was even moving, which more proof

that who ever took it had to be as strange as the pictures themselves.

Colin yanked the tape off of his picture and to his irritation saw that

only one of the five pictures was up there. He turned it over and saw a note

scribbled on the back. "'If this picture belongs to you, ring door bell for the

others.' Great, just great." He stuck out his finger and almost rang the

doorbell when a thought suddenly occurred to him. Just what exactly was he going

to say when whoever it was opened the door? They had clearly planned this. No

one finds five pictures and then leaves exactly one of them to be re-found.

Okay, let's see. Um, these pictures were examples of a recently developed

experimental technology from a very important, top secret institution....that

had somehow ended up in the hands of a milkman who delivered them, by accident,

with the morning's milk. Colin closed his eyes. Not even he could believe the

likelihood of that happening. He glanced down at his clothes. It was even less

likely that a representative of a top-secret technology institute would be

wearing dirty, sweat-drenched clothing. Maybe he could just take the picture and

run...but that would be leaving the other four inside. What to do, what to do.

As Agnes picked up the phone to call Emily again, planning on leaving

another message to stress the importance that she call back as soon as she gets

home, regardless of the hour, she picked up the phone and glanced out the

window. There, standing on the stoop, was a young man with blond hair, a little

scrawny, and wearing dirty clothes. He was holding the picture she'd taped up

and looking as though he wanted very much to run away and she blew out a breath

in frustration. She'd never thought that anyone but the pictures owner would

touch it and this boy...well, he was too bright, cheery and normal looking to be

whoever would have access to cool things. She hung up the phone and headed to

the front door to tell him to get away and quite messing with the picture when

suddenly she remembered the picture of waving people in front of waving plants

and sped back into the kitchen. She skidded to a stop and picked it up. There,

in the front, was waving brightly at the camera, was the same person. She ran

back to the door.

Before he had quite come up with a plausible excuse, the door swung open

and Colin found himself face to face with a wild-eyed girl. "Hi!" she said with

so much enthusiasm Colin had to bend away from it. She looked slightly

embarrassed but still had that disturbing glint in her eye that made Colin more

frightened and wary than ever. 'Run!' that tiny voice inside of him repeated and

he decided it would be prudent to listen to it for once. "Er, sorry to disturb

you but I must be at the wrong house I was looking for the umm..." he used the

first name that popped into his head, "the Potter's residence, sorry," he backed

away but before he could break into an all out run, the girl grabbed his arm.

"Oh, you're not at the wrong house!" she said eagerly. "This is the Potter

residence!"

'Oh shit,' the voice said. 'Just your luck Harry Potter of wizarding world

fame isn't the only Potter in the world and you just have to pick the house that

also has Potters living in it. Then he looked at the girl again and realized

that he could have said he was looking for a pack of dancing Flamingos and she

would have insisted she was one. "Did what I just say register with you?" He

asked as she maintained her iron-like grip.

She shrugged. "I don't know, probably not. But I do know that this is the

house you're looking for." She flashed the picture Colin had asked Professor

Sprout to take of his herbology class at him. "Lose some pictures?"

So much for backing out easily.