Chapter 2

The Hospital in Manchester

Strosslink felt himself return to consciousness, slowly, driftingly; awake, then back to sleep, then awake, then asleep, as if he were nervous about making the sudden leap back into the real world.

When he did finally open his eyes, he stared at his surroundings in silent wonder and fear. It was a few minutes before he could remember everything, but it was then that the true anxiety set in.

Edwina Yolk, of Number Three; escaped, the expensive Invisibility Cloak; ruined. Then he remembered that there was more than the mission at hand. The Muggles, then the car and they attacked; his spell did not work, their curse somehow nullified it.

But where was he now? Strosslink was confused. He could see, plainly, that he was in a hospital, but a strange hospital. There were things missing from this room that Strosslink would have expected to be there. And there were things in this room that Strosslink had never seen before and did not recognise.

Well, thought Strosslink, I would prefer not to investigate this mystery further.

He tried to sit up in his bed, but felt incredibly weak. His wrists seemed to want to stay directly where they were, as did his ankles. Then, he realised that they had been bound to the bed with some sort of metal chains.

'Alohomora!' he shouted at the locks. 'Alohomora!'

The locks did not move, but the shouting made Aeneas feel somewhat dizzy, and he slumped back down into the bed.

The shouting, however, did move a Muggle that had been sitting on a chair outside the room to come inside. He too was wearing a uniform, and when he saw that Strosslink was awake, he rushed over to a small white contraption that was sitting silently on a small table. He tapped it several times, and then spoke to it.

'Doctor? The suspect has just woken up!'

There was a pause and a muffled sound seemed to be coming from the contraption. The Muggle looked somewhat abashed.

'Yes, the patient. Could you please inspect him? I'm about to call the detective.'

Strosslink stared at the Muggle.

'Who are you?' he demanded.

'I'm Officer Drodes,' replied the Muggle, looking at Strosslink suspiciously. 'And what might your name be?'

'Aeneas Strosslink. Strosslink, that is. Why am I chained to this bed?'

Officer Drodes scowled at him.

'You'll have to discuss that with DC Yates,' he replied after a pause.

'I demand that I be released immediately.'

'You're under arrest. DC Yates will be arriving presently.'

Officer Drodes picked up the contraption and started to tap it again.

'Accio wand!' called Strosslink, hoping to catch the Muggle unprepared with a well-placed curse.

This resulted only in a very confused look from Officer Drodes. Strosslink's wand was somewhere, he knew, but he couldn't get it back again with a Summoning Charm. Someone must have it; he realised, and felt a little cold when he wondered what they might be doing with it.

It was then that Strosslink's immediate frustration and annoyance began to fade and be replaced by fear. He was in hospital, he didn't know where his wand was and he couldn't seem to be able to conjure up any spells to free himself.

Knowing that he could do nothing, he lay back down in the bed and closed his eyes. He knew that a calm disposition would yield a calm resolution.

'Bernie, what happened with this guy? He sounds like a nutter.'

Strosslink could hear the voice of the Muggle, Officer Drodes, just outside the room. He didn't move.

'We've got no idea, Wade, it's bizarre.' A second voice replied. 'Two officers in a cruiser spotted him standing over the victim. It's lucky they were armed, 'cause this guy's dangerous. We still can't figure out what happened to the victim, he was entirely paralysed. This guy must have drugged him, but the blood tests showed nothing.'

'Paralysed? How is the victim?'

'Well, that's just as weird as anything else. One moment, he couldn't even move a muscle to speak, then the next moment he's running around shouting about having someone appear out of thin air in his hospital room. We think it's trauma, 'cause that room was locked and had a guard outside, just like this one.'

'And this guy?'

'He did it, we just don't know how. He's a loony, anyway. You can read it straight off.'

'Yeah, I could tell that, he started shouting all sorts of made-up words at me when I went in there.'

'Well,' said a much deeper voice, 'I think that part's up to me.'

'Herman, you should know. You've seen nutters like this before.'

'Wearing some sort of medieval cloak? Speaking his own language, carrying around some sort of stick, waiting to get shot by police? And with no identification at all?'

'Yeah, that's him.'

'And did you say he was burning something?'

'Yeah, some sort of fabric, but forensics can't identify it either. It must be rare.'

'This person is quite obviously insane, but you guys just need to hear it from me.'

Strosslink could then hear footsteps and the sound of the door being unlocked. Three men entered.

'Wake up, sir,' said the second voice.

Strosslink opened his eyes.

'I'm Detective Constable Yates,' introduced the owner of the voice. 'This is Officer Drodes, from the Manchester police department.'

DC Yates nodded to the third man, the one with the deep voice.

'And this is Doctor Herman Hander. He's a psychiatrist. We of the police department have been asked to give you a psychological examination. Do you understand this?'

Strosslink nodded, though he didn't really.

The Muggle named Hander sat down on a chair next to Strosslink's head. Strosslink imagined how much he would like these animals pay for what they did to him.

'What is your full name?' asked Hander.

Strosslink puffed out his chest and tried to make himself as imposing as possible. This wasn't particularly effective, as he was lying down, but he prided himself on putting in the effort anyway.

'Aeneas Euphrosyne Amadeus Strosslink, of the House of Strosslink,' he proclaimed.

Hander looked up from his book for a moment.

'That's an interesting name. Of the House of Strosslink, did you say? Is that a title of some nobility?'

Strosslink scowled at him.

'Why of course, the Strosslinks are one of the very most noble and ancient families of wizardry!'

Hander flinched in his seat when Strosslink spat out the final word.

'Wizardry? As in magic and enchantments?'

Strosslink stared at him, his eyes red-hot coals.

'Reducto, reducto!' he muttered furiously under his breath.

But nothing happened.

Hander looked at Strosslink with a shocked expression. Then he looked back at his book.

'Okay Mr. Strosslink, can you please tell me the name of the current Prime Minister?'

This confused Strosslink. 'What? Who? Prime somebody?'

'The name of the current Prime Minister,' Hander pushed.

'What? Do you mean the Minister for Magic?'

Hander's expression suddenly changed. He fixed Strosslink with a very knowing eye.

'Magic again, eh?'

There was silence.

'And you believe in these things, do you, Mr. Strosslink?'

At this final ridiculous question Strosslink lost his usually-concealed temper.

'Crucio!' he screamed. 'Crucio! Alohomora! Imperio!'

But still nothing happened. Hander frowned at the struggling soul before him the way one frowns at a cup of tea left to go cold. Unfortunate, but not particularly significant.