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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

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2 - London and the UK
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Thursday, June 18, 1998:
London: Grosvenor House Hotel
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"It's been a while since I've stayed here," Dad said, after tipping the bellhop. "We'll get a nap to take care of the jet lag, then go to dinner. Tomorrow's Friday, I've got meetings I must go to, while Mattie, you and your mother can go to that school meeting."

I yawned, while Mom said, "That sound good with you, Mattie?" I nodded, and yawned again while Mom dug out the information Hagrid had left us, and dialed the phone.

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Friday, June 19, 1998:
London: Ministry of Magic, Department of Education, Muggle Relatives Office
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"Y'sure abou' that address, Miss?" the cabbie asked.

Mom checked her sheet, then said, "Blumfields at 1701 Charing Cross, right?"

"'E ye are, then, Miss. Be ten and five. I'll wait if ye want a ride back to Grosvenor House."

"Thank you, but we'll be fine. Have a nice day." Mom handed him a twenty- pound note.

"A department store that says, 'Closed for remodeling', Mom? That's the address for the Ministry of Magic?"

"That's what they said." She shook her head, and added, "Let's see what happens, shall we?" She took a breath and my hand; then opened the door.

------------------------

"'Allo! What can we do ye today?" a chirpy blonde in a green robe asked.

"We've got an appointment with a Mr. Carlson about ... Hogwarts?" Mom replied.

"May I see your letter?" Mom extracted it, checked that it didn't have the Cave address, and passed it over. The blonde looked at it, then passed it back, saying, "Yanks, eh? Mr. Carlson owled in sick today. Mrs. Michaels is takin' it instead. We've got a meetin' of other relatives in about ten minutes, if you'd care to join them. Tea and bix are in the room, which is down that hall and to the right. Loo is further down and to the left if you need it."

Mom stopped at the meeting room, I motioned down the hall, and she nodded and went in. I proceeded down the hall, which turned out to be a fairly worn, tiled, ordinary bathroom. Slightly disappointed, I rejoined Mom.

"Anything unusual?" Mom whispered. I shook my head, and Mom passed me a folder of information she had picked up. I opened it, and saw the now usual moving pictures, and started to read.

------------------------

"Good morning!" A middle-aged woman with yellow colored robes and an elaborate hair plait was standing in front of us. There were half a dozen families in the room, and as she looked us over, I looked at her. She smiled, and said, "I am Dorothea Michaels, from the Muggle Relatives Office of the Ministry's Department of Education. You're here because your son or daughter has gotten a Hogwarts letter, offering them an education in magic."

"Now, the first questions people usually ask are either, one, 'Is magic real?' Or two, 'What is a muggle?' Let me demonstrate. You, Mr. ....?"

"Adams, and my son Charles."

"Yes, Mr. Adams. I notice you've a teacup. Finished?" He nodded, and she continued, "Please drop it on the floor, so it breaks." He looked at her, and she motioned. With a shrug, he tossed it on the floor, where it broke with a crash. Mrs. Michaels pointed her wand at it, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa". It rose to hover, and Mrs. Michaels said, "Well, we can see it's broken. Not much good that way, is it?" With a smile, and a muttered, "Reparo!" a whole teacup was in her hand, which she passed back to Mr. Adams.

"What I've just shown you is very basic magic. Your children will learn this and much more, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hogwarts has been in existence for well over a thousand years, teaching magic to young witches and wizards. Your children." She paced a bit, and added, "This brings up the second question, 'What is a Muggle?' A muggle is a non- magic person, or someone that's grown up without magic. We've hidden ourselves from muggles since 1692, and taken steps to make sure muggles have no information about the Wizarding World. However, with your son or daughter a magic user, we must let you know about this. We trust that you'll keep the secret, for your children's sake."

"Any questions? No? Onward then." She sat on a table, and said, "Currency. The wizarding world uses Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle, seventeen sickles to a galleon. Each galleon is worth about five pounds in muggle money. We'll be stopping by Gringotts bank so you can set up accounts for your children's school supplies, as well as doing some shopping."

Mom raised her hand, and asked, "We set up an account in New York with Gringotts. How do we transfer it to London?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. Gringotts is the only bank in the wizarding world. You have your key and statement?" Mom nodded, and pulled out the little cloth bag she had gotten. I checked to see if I still had mine, and waved it. Mrs. Michaels paled a bit, and then said, "Yes, well. Just show those to the goblins at Gringotts, and they'll take care of you."

Someone else asked, "How do we write our children?"

"Ah," Mrs. Michaels said, recovering herself. "You've all gotten owls with the letters. If you ask the owl, they will wait for a reply to your son or daughter. You can also send muggle post to a box the Ministry uses, which will then be forwarded by owl to your student at Hogwarts. When you're picking up your supplies, make sure to pick up a few Howlers. They're the red envelopes, and are used when you want to speak ... firmly ... with your child about their misbehaving." There was a general chuckle at that, and she smiled, and said, "Of course, YOUR child never misbehaves." There were even more laughs at that.

"Now then, about overseas letters. Mrs....?"

"Wayne."

"Yes, Mrs. Wayne. You can write to a box the American Ministry uses, which will then be forwarded to London, and on to Hogwarts. However, there's another method that's just being implemented, called, I believe, pmail?"

Mom asked, "Do you mean e-mail? Electronic mail? Yes, we have that."

"Oh, good." Mrs. Michaels made a note, and said, "We'll set up your daughter with a mmail address when she gets to Hogwarts. If the rest of you are interested, we can do the same, although it does seem to require a device called a compulator."

"I think you mean a computer," Mr. Adams said.

"Yes, well. Are there any more questions? No? Good. Next stop is a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, and then on to the shops of Diagon Alley. Follow me, please."

The chirpy blonde rushed in, and breathlessly said, "You-know-who's at 'Ogwarts! Just heard it on the Wireless!" She seemed very nervous about this, and had her wand in her hand.

"Oh, my! Floo Mr. Carlson right away and then let the parents of our muggleborn students know to hide. Hurry!" The blonde rushed out, and Mrs. Michaels closed the door, pointing her wand at it, and muttering "Colloportus!"

"What is going on, and who is this 'You-know-who' bloke?" Mr. Adams demanded.

"Well, first I need to give you a little history," Mrs. Michaels said nervously. "About fifty years ago, a Dark Wizard appeared, who had two stated goals, immortality, and what he called 'purity of blood'. That meant elimination of anyone who wasn't a pureblood wizard." She swallowed nervously, and continued, "He instituted a reign of terror, using his followers, who are known as 'Death Eaters', who tortured and killed anyone who got in their way. They made a point of looking for what they called 'mudbloods', which is an insult meaning 'dirty blood', and refers to muggleborn witches and wizards."

"Sounds a bit like Hitler," Mom said. Other people nodded, and she asked, "What was his name?"

"People are afraid to speak it, so they just call him 'You-know-who', but his name is ..." she swallowed nervously, then forced out "V... Voldemort!"

"And he is attacking this school that you want us to send our children to? Are you daft?" Mr. Adams shouted.

"MY DAUGHTER'S THERE!" Mrs. Michaels shouted. She collapsed into a chair, and started to cry. There was a pounding on the door, then a call of 'Alohomora' and it swung in. Mrs. Michaels was on her feet, red-eyed but with her wand out and pointed, but then she relaxed a bit. "Oh! Everyone, this is Secretary of Education Percy Weasley."

The tall redheaded man asked, "Mrs. Michaels, is there something wrong?"

"You-know-who's at Hogwarts!"

For some reason, this didn't trouble Mr. Weasley. "I'm sure it's just a rumor. You know how these journalists are, if they don't have any news they make something up. After all, he hasn't been seen now for months and months."

"And do you have any relatives there, Mr. Weasley?" Mr. Adams inquired coldly.

"My youngest brother and sister are there," he replied, with an air of dismissal. "Now, there's no reason to panic. After all, we haven't had any news that you-know-who's still alive, after all."

"You're a bloody git, Weasley! Dumbledore's seen him! Potter's seen him! They both fought him at the Ministry! Don't you remember two years ago? Even that bloody head-in-the-sand idiot Fudge has seen him! He's attacking Hogwarts, and all I can do is worry," Mrs. Michaels moaned, sinking back into her chair.

"Now, Mrs. Michaels, you're forgetting yourself. I'm sure the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will dispatch someone to investigate and file a report. That will put an end to these rumors," Weasley sniffed.

I glanced at Mom, and then ran toward Mr. Weasley, hugging him around the legs, and saying, "Oh, thank you, Mr. Weasley!" He teetered, and Mom caught him, and touched his neck, causing him to collapse like a sack of potatoes.

"What did you do? You don't have a wand ..." Mrs. Michaels asked.

"Mattie does, we picked one up for her in Boston." I waved it, and Mom continued, "With this idiot, though, it was just a nerve touch. He'll be out for about half an hour. Who's Fudge?"

"Well, grab his wand. That's the first thing you do when you're dueling," Mrs. Michaels said. "Fudge is the Minister of Magic, and he's a political idiot that doesn't believe something unless it's right in front of his nose. Even then ..." she sighed, and said, "I'm going to teach you a quick spell, dear." I found his wand, and tossed it to Mom, then pointed my wand at Mr. Weasley. "Ready, dear? All right, aim at his chest and say 'Stupefy', and a red light should come from your wand."

"Stupefy!" I said, then "Cool! How long will he be out?"

"It depends on how powerful a wizard he is, anywhere from a couple of seconds to hours. Now, another spell is 'Silencio', which will keep him quiet. Let me tie him up, first." Mrs. Michaels pointed her wand, and said, "Incarcerous!" Ropes shot out of her wand, wrapping tightly around Mr. Weasley.

"Can I try one?" Charlie Adams asked.

"Certainly, but I must tell you, you shouldn't stun someone too often. Also, your wand connects to your magic. If you use someone else's, it won't work as well. Pass his wand over, and try 'Silencio' on the twit, dearie."

Mom passed the wand over, and the boy stood, and called "Silencio!"

"Excellent! Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I mentioned that my daughter was at Hogwarts. She's a fourth-year in Hufflepuff. Now, Hogwarts has four houses that students are sorted into. They're like an extended family. They are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor, and are named after the four Founders of Hogwarts." Mrs. Michaels took a breath, then said, "The reasons we let Abigail continue there are the magical defenses there are the strongest in Britain, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, is regarded as the most powerful wizard in the world, and Harry Potter's there."

"Who's Harry Potter?" Mr. Adams asked.

Mrs. Michaels took a seat on the table again, and continued, "He's known as 'The boy who lived', and is already an exceptionally powerful wizard. He's a seventh-year Gryffindor at Hogwarts, and he may be almost as powerful as Dumbledore. A witch or wizard doesn't reach his full magical strength until they're thirty to forty years old, and Potter's only eighteen. He's the only known survivor of the Killing Curse, and the subject of a prophecy that he's the only one that can defeat you-know-who." She smiled, and added, "From what Abi says, he's fairly shy, but he's been running a club called the DA. It stands for the 'Defense Association', and she's been in it since her second year, when the Ministry appointed a horrid sycophant to the DADA position." She shook her head, and said, "Sorry. DADA is Defense Against the Dark Arts, where students learn to protect themselves. Abi dueled against my husband and I over the Christmas hols, and defeated us both quite handily. I'm just hoping they have a competent professor next year. Professor Lupin's been teaching it, but he resigned. It has the reputation of a jinxed position."

"What is this 'Killing Curse' you mentioned?"

"There are three curses, known as the 'Unforgivables', which will earn you a lifetime stay in Azkaban prison," she said, and shuddered. "You-know- who's people use all of them. They are the Imperious curse, which forces control over another person, the Cruciatus, which causes horrible pain, and the Killing curse, which kills without leaving a mark. There's no way to block it, and no way to stop it, and only one recorded survivor."

"This Potter fellow," Mr. Adams said.

Mrs. Michaels nodded. "Harry Potter. He was barely a year old, but the rebound killed the Dark Lord, and left Harry with a curse scar on his forehead. You-know-who's been attacking Harry ever since he reincarnated, and Harry has defeated him every year. What's more, he's taught other students what he's learned, without regard for which house they were in. Even Slytherins."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Slytherins have the unfortunate reputation of being a Dark House, possibly because that's what you-know-who was in. They're no Darker than any other house, and I have several friends from Slytherin, like Amanda. She's the blonde out front in the green robes. There are the usual house rivalries over things like Quidditch, and people will pull pranks on different houses, but that's all in good fun."

"So what's Quidditch?" Mom asked.

"Oi, just the greatest game!" Amanda said from the doorway. "No news yet," she added.

"Amanda, did you know Harry?" Mrs. Michaels asked.

"Oh, yes, I saw Harry in the DA meetings last year. Once, he out-dueled four of us seventh-years at once, then revived us and taught us how he did it. He's a sweet guy, and he's cute, too." She sighed, and said, "He's got a girlfriend, unfortunately. Ginny Weasley, the little sister of that prat." She motioned to the still-sleeping Percy Weasley. "She's ever so nice, even for a Gryffindor. Anyway, Quidditch is the wizarding sport. Seven people on brooms, three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper that guards the goalposts, and a Seeker. The Chasers try to score goals with the Quaffle, the Beaters try to keep the Bludgers from hitting their mates, and the Seeker looks for the snitch, which is worth 150 points and usually wins the game. The game continues until the snitch is found, however long it takes."

"Wasn't there one game in 1884 that ran several months?" Mrs. Michaels said. "Amanda, would you be a dear and pop over to the Alley? I'm wondering if it's safe to take these people there, and could you pick up a few copies of the Prophet? We'll see what the news is." With a nod and a 'crack', Amanda disappeared.

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"There's nobody in the Alley!" Amanda reported breathlessly. "I nicked copies of the Prophet, all that were left. Florean's Ice Cream and Quality Quidditch are closed, both Apothecaries, and the Wheeze has a big sign in the window – 'Gone to fight the Dark Tosser. Join us in Hogsmeade.' The only one open is Gringotts, and they have about a hundred guards outside."

"Well, we could at least get your accounts done today," Mrs. Michaels thought. "Amanda, do you mind coming in tomorrow? I know it's a Saturday, but..."

"Where are we going?" Mr. Adams asked.

"Just down a few doors to a pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron'. We go through there to get to Diagon Alley, where you get your school supplies and do your shopping. Well, normally, that is. Today, well, we'll see how things are, and give it a go tomorrow. Is everyone right up with that? Mrs. Wayne, you don't need to go back to the Colonies tomorrow, do you?"

"It's been the 'United States' for 222 years now," Mom said mildly. The other families chuckled as she added, "Not the 'Colonies', as I'm sure you learned in History. However, we're good for tomorrow, thank you."

Mrs. Michaels asked, "Did Professor Binns mention anything about that?" Amanda shook her head.

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"Right-O. Here we are. If you need access to the Alley and we're not here, just ask Tom, the owner, and he'll let you in." She pulled on the door, and Mom and I followed the others into a small, dark and smoky pub.

"'Allo, Tom! What news?"

A bald, toothless old man said, "Oi, Dot. They're pushin' the bloody buggers back, last I heard. Wish I could help, but Dumbledore wanted me here. They want to keep them Dark wizards inside the wards, so they can't escape this time. O' we got here?"

"New muggleborn students and their parents. Everyone, this is Tom, the proprietor. He's been running the Cauldron for ... how long?"

"'Undred fifteen years, this August. You'll be wantin' the Alley, then? Don' know why, everyone's off to Hogsmeade now."

"Gringotts is open, Tom. We can at least get the accounts settled, and they can come back tomorrow to shop."

Tom grunted at this, and waved for us to follow. In a small brick courtyard with trash bins, he said, "'Ere we go. Tap the bricks wi' your wand, and 'ave a nice day. Closes after ye go through." He shuffled off.

"Right then. Two up, three across, and ..." the bricks started to spin in place, reforming themselves into an arched doorway. We pushed through into a small street, lined with shops on both sides. With a rustling sound, the bricks reformed behind us into a wall. Mrs. Michaels smiled, and said, "Come along now, and welcome to Diagon Alley. It would normally be full of people, but it seems most of them have gone off to Hogsmeade to fight you- know-who." Indeed, there were signs to that effect in several shop windows.

"What is Hogsmeade?" someone asked.

"Hogsmeade is the only wizarding village in Great Britain. It's located in Scotland, and it's where the Hogwarts school train from King's Cross arrives. The school is a ten-minute walk from the station, although the students will have carriages to take them."

"Except the firsties!" Amanda said. "You get to cross the lake with Hagrid, and then you're Sorted!"

Mrs. Michaels smiled, "Every school has traditions, and this is one of Hogwarts'. The first years cross a lake in small boats ..."

"Do we have to row?" a girl asked.

"No, dear. It's magic, remember? In any case, don't worry about falling in. There's a giant squid in the lake, he'll pluck you right out, and Hagrid will be with you."

"Oh, I remember Hagrid!" I said.

"Oi, Hagrid's a puffskein, but careful in his classes. Some of the things he considers cuddly..." Amanda said with a shudder. "Ask him about Fluffy..."

Mrs. Michaels looked at her, so Amanda expanded, "Fluffy was a three headed dog he picked up in a pub. Each of Fluffy's heads was ten feet across, and he drooled."

"Well, that ... Oh, my. What's that?" one mother asked, pointing in a pet shop. "It's beautiful."

"It's a phoenix. They're very rare. I wonder if this is Dumbledore's?" Amanda said, as we moved closer. With a burst of flame, it vanished, then reappeared in another burst of flame on Mom's shoulder. It trilled a song to her, and an expression of rapture appeared on her face. It turned to look at me, then trilled something else, and a feather floated loose. With another bit of song, and another burst of flame, it was gone.

"Grab that feather!" Mrs. Michaels told me. I fumbled, and then grabbed it. It was warm to the touch. I asked, "Mom?"

"Yes, honey?" She shook herself, and then said, "Oh, Diagon Alley. Shall we move on?"

As we walked, Amanda pointed out 'the Wheeze', as she called it, a joke shop. A large banner with a smiling face said 'I get my BANGS at the Wheeze!' Amanda added, "One word of advice about the twins' shop," she said with a grin. "Don't eat anything."

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I only counted twenty guards outside Gringotts. We started to go in, and one said, "Halt! Vault owners only!"

"We have accounts," Mom said, as she waved the little bags under his sharp nose. He paled, and she continued, "However, we'll close them if we don't go in with our friends. They wish to open accounts now."

The goblin spat something at a guard, who ran inside. They reformed ranks, and with dropped jaws on Amanda and Mrs. Michaels' faces, we walked inside.

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"I've never seen the goblins here so ... obsequious." Mrs. Michaels said.

"Oi, what news from 'Ogwarts?" Amanda asked the goblin. "I've got friends there."

The goblin snapped his fingers, and an underling appeared. He disappeared, and reappeared with a constantly updating scroll.

Hogwarts Quidditch teams continue to engage Death Eaters

Current casualty count:
Hogwarts: 1 dead (R. Hooch), 4 serious injuries, 0 captured.
Death Eaters: 3 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.), 5 serious injuries, 22 captured.
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 3 serious injuries, 3 captured.

Hogwarts H. Potter still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 3 hr. 43 min.)
Hogwarts D. Malfoy killed by Death Eater L. Malfoy (Cruciatus, AK)
Hogwarts N. Longbottom, B. Zabini capture Death Eater B. Lestrange

"Cor Blimey, way to go!" Amanda said. "That's me 'ousemate, there, Blaise Zabini! I knew she could do it! An' Draco killed by 'is da, yet!"

Hogwarts S. Bones, N. Longbottom, B. Zabini capture Death Eater A. Zabini

"Ooh, poor Blaise, her own pa!"

Hogwarts Al. Dumbledore revived, still with minor injuries, returns to engagement

"Dumbledore's back in it now! This is like listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless!" Amanda commented.

"Who's Riddle, and what's an AK?" I asked.

"Riddle is you-know-who's birth name, 'e's the one Potter's mixing it up with. An' the AK is the Killing Curse. Bastard Malfoy tortured his son with the Cruciatus before killing him."

Hogsmeade Ab. Dumbledore rescues F. Weasley; G. Weasley, L. Jordan (injured)

"Those are the twins that run the joke shop! With their mate Lee, too!"

Current casualty count:
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 3 serious injuries, 0 captured.
Death Eaters: 3 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.), 7 serious injuries, 23 captured.
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 4 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Hogwarts H. Potter still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 3 hr. 55 min.)
Hogwarts Al. Dumbledore engages T. Riddle (duration: 5 min.)

Hogwarts P. Parkinson Jr., M. Bulstrode capture Death Eater P. Parkinson Sr.

"Pansy and Millie teaming up? They hate each other, and they're with Dumbledore?"

Hogwarts P. Parkinson Jr., M. Bulstrode capture Death Eater V. Crabbe Jr.

Current casualty count:
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 5 serious injuries, 0 captured.
Death Eaters: 3 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.), 7 serious injuries, 27 captured.
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 6 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Hogwarts H. Potter still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 4 hr. 7 min.)
Hogwarts Al. Dumbledore still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 17 min.)

Hogsmeade A. Moody capture Death Eater V. Crabbe Sr.
Hogwarts R. Lupin (injured) capture Death Eater L. Malfoy (injured)

Hogwarts H. Potter kills T. Riddle (duration: 4 hours 12 min.)

Amanda let out a scream. "Harry's done it! He's killed you-know-who!" Pandemonium erupted as someone shouted, "The Death Eaters are finished!" I returned to watching the scroll.

Hogwarts G. Weasley, H. Granger capture Death Eater R. Lestrange

"That's Harry's girlfriend and best mate captured tha' Death Eater!" Amanda said.

Hogsmeade A. Weasley, M. Weasley capture Death Eater W. Macnair

Current casualty count:
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 3 serious injuries, 0 captured.
Death Eaters: 4 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.; T. Riddle), 7 serious injuries, 31 captured.
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 5 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Hogwarts Quidditch teams pursue fleeing Death Eaters into Forbidden Forest

Fleeing Death Eaters blocked by Giants & Centaurs, surrender to Quidditch teams

Current casualty count:
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 2 serious injuries, 0 captured.
Death Eaters: 4 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.; T. Riddle), 7 serious injuries, 54 captured.
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 4 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Conflict ends, duration:
9 hours, 31 minutes

I asked a goblin, "Is there any way I can get a copy of this?"

"Of course." He tapped the scroll, and muttered something, then handed it to me.

"Thank you." The goblin blinked, then smiled and nodded.

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Friday, June 19, 1998:
London: Grosvenor House Hotel
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"Well, that was an eventful day," Mom said as we closed the door to the hotel suite. "Can I see that thing you and Amanda were so involved with?"

"Sure, mom. The goblins gave it to us; it's a play-by-play of the fight at Hogwarts. All nine and a half hours of it."

Dad came out of a bedroom, and said, "You two seem to have had an interesting day. Why don't you both get changed, we can get dinner, and you can tell me about it?"

------------------------

"What's that?" Dad asked, seeing the bird standing on the suite's end table.

"It's a phoenix, Dad. Maybe it's the same one that gave me a feather." The bird trilled, and with a flash of fire, popped into place on his shoulder, where it sang to him. With another pop, it returned to the table, where it offered me a rolled parchment.

Dear Miss Wayne (and parents),

This is Fawkes, and he is a friend of mine. I would like to offer the three of you a chance to visit Hogwarts tomorrow (Saturday). He believes that it may be advantageous to the three of you, and would allow you to visit with staff and current students before making your decision regarding your magical education. I concur with his beliefs.

You may have heard of a minor disagreement that was thrashed out here today. Please be reassured that, with two unfortunate exceptions, all students and faculty are safe, as is the school itself. If you are interested, please be ready at eight o'clock tomorrow morning.

If you have other plans for tomorrow, I completely understand. If you would like to come, please reply to this note with Fawkes, who is a most reliable and secure messenger.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"If we're going, we ought to let Amanda and Mrs. Michaels know," Mom said. "Fawkes, can you take a note to them, please?" Fawkes chirruped, and she said, "I guess that's yes."

"I for one would like to see this place," Dad said. "From the note, the headmaster seems to think you're someone special, Mattie." He ruffled my hair, and added, "Not that we disagree."

"You write the headmaster to tell him we accept, and I'll write Amanda and Mrs. Michaels," Mom said. "You don't mind, do you, Fawkes?" He chirruped again, and Mom passed me a sheet of hotel stationary.

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

My parents and I will be happy to join you tomorrow. We shall be ready at eight. Please let us know if there is anything we need to bring.

Sincerely, Helena Martha (Mattie) Wayne (and parents)


I folded it into a hotel envelope, and wrote Headmaster Dumbledore, Hogwarts on the front. Mom handed me her envelope, and I gave them both to Fawkes, telling him, "Thank you." He trilled again, and vanished with a burst of flame.

"I wonder why he doesn't set off the sprinklers," Dad mused.

A few minutes later, Dad called, "Mattie! Fawkes is back, and he's got a note for you!" I gargled and spat out the mouthwash, then called, "Coming, Dad!"

The headmaster had simply added a note to the bottom of mine:

Miss Wayne,

Your wits are all that is required (although you might wish to bring your wand). I am looking forward to meeting the three of you.

Albus Dumbledore

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Saturday, June 20, 1998:
London: Grosvenor House Hotel
------------------------

At five minutes to eight, Fawkes reappeared, with a note and a garish sock. The note read:

Miss Wayne (and parents),

The sock is a magically enchanted traveling device called a portkey. It will activate at precisely eight o'clock. Please be touching it at that time. You will feel a tug behind your navel. Most people seem to lose their balance upon arrival, please be prepared.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

I looked at Mom and Dad, and we all touched the sock. As the clock ticked eight, it activated.