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.
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.
