J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter

Chapter Five

Watching his reflection in the mirror while brushing his teeth, Mark decided he had absolutely nothing going for him. Not only had David inherited their mother's brains, he'd gotten their father's brawn as well. He, on the other hand, was left only with Mum's delicate frame, which might look good on her, but did not do him many favors in the schoolyard; a mouth he could never control, which kept getting him into trouble; and his hair, a dark red that could not pass unnoticed, which only accentuated his constant feeling of being different.

Different, different, different, he chanted mentally in time with the brushing. Always standing out. Why couldn't he just be like everyone else? Not only was he the psychic who made balls fly without touching them, word was spreading that he had gotten himself mugged, and now he had seen someone doing magic - though thankfully no one knew about that but his very normal brother. (Well, Mrs. Figg knew too, but she hadn't seemed too likely to tell anyone else.)

His thoughts turned again to Mrs. Figg, and to what she had said, or not said, this morning. She knew exactly what was happening; why wouldn't she tell them? Now they had no way of knowing anything.

Theatrically, he sighed the kind of sigh he fancied a weary old man might heave. It had been a long day; at least now it was over. He heard his mother's voice in the hallway, asking David to please come downstairs, and he absently wondered why.

Then she poked her head into the bathroom. "You too, Mark," she said, her face taut with worry. "And put on a dressing gown; we have company."

Now very curious and slightly apprehensive, he dropped the toothbrush and rinsed his mouth. He returned to his room, retrieved his dressing gown from the depths of his closet, put it on over his pajamas, and made his way downstairs, toward the living room.

His family was gathered there, sitting so stiffly it looked painful, Mum and David on the couch and Dad on the loveseat. He could not tell why they were so rigid until he stepped into the room.

Two men in dark suits and neckties were sitting in chairs that had been pulled up opposite the loveseat. They sat as quietly as his family, but their silence was the kind that projected utter calm and self-assurance. They looked up at him as he entered, and one of them smiled slightly at him, which he found more unnerving than reassuring. Dad beckoned him to sit on his lap, but Mark sat down next to him instead.

"Good evening," said the man who had smiled, breaking the increasingly awkward silence. "My name is Angulus Corner, this is my colleague, Arnold Peasegood, and we are not actually members of the MI6. I apologize for the deception."

Mark shivered. Who were these people?

"We are in fact representing a far more secretive governmental organization," Mr. Corner continued. "We are employees of the Ministry of Magic." This statement brought a silence even louder than the one before it. Then, realizing the full meaning of the man's words, Mark and David caught each other's eye excitedly.

Mum, on the other hand, snapped, "Excuse me? Is this some kind of joke? What do you mean, magic? There's no such thing."

"I assure you that there is," said the second man - Mr. Peasegood, or whatever his name was. "There are entire communities of witches and wizards around the world, hiding themselves carefully from non-magical eyes under the Statute of Secrecy. If you require proof -"

He pulled a thin stick from an inner pocket. Mum and Dad looked bewildered, but Mark could hardly breathe. Was he about to see magic up close? Looking around, Mr. Peasegood pointed the stick - the wand, Mark realized - at the coffee table, which suddenly turned a bright green, then lifted several feet into the air, flipped over a few times, sank back to the floor, and returned to its normal color.

Wow.

"But- but-" Mum sputtered; Dad's eyes had gone wide.

Mr. Peasegood smiled sympathetically. "I do understand; this can be difficult to accept. I was not born into a wizarding family myself, and the first time a witch came to my house, my father attempted violence." At this, David gave Mark a sharp look, but Mark was too interested in the conversation to care.

Mum seemed to be rapidly collecting herself. "If I accept all of this as true," she said, "and you do seem to have proven it, then why have you chosen to break this 'Statute of Secrecy'?"

"Oh, we didn't break the Statute of Secrecy," said Mr. Corner with a smile that was now way beyond unnerving. "That was broken already weeks ago. We are members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, and we are here to repair the damage to the Statute."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're going on about. I've never been involved with any such things in my life, nor have -" she stopped as she saw the expressions on her sons' faces. "My... family?" she finished slowly, looking at the two of them with something between accusation and concern.

"Your sons, ma'am," Mr. Corner said, "seem to have understood why we are here. Why don't we ask them?"

Everyone focused on him and David. "Well, boys," Dad said, speaking for the first time, "would you like to explain?"

Mark caught David's eye again. The moment of truth, apparently, had arrived. There was another brief silence, then David dropped his eyes and said simply, "We saw someone doing magic."

"Wh- who?" Dad asked, flabbergasted. "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell us?"

"It was Harry Potter, Dad. A few weeks ago. We didn't think you'd believe us." David still hadn't looked up from the floor.

"But how did you - oh," Mark said, recognizing the obvious before he had finished his question. "Mrs. Figg told you. Of course."

"So why isn't the Potter boy in trouble for this?" Mum asked. This annoyed Mark, who thought his mother could show at least a little gratitude to his savior of only a few weeks ago, regardless of his reputation.

"The incident in question has already been thoroughly investigated in the Wizarding courts," Mr. Corner said. "Harry Potter has been cleared on grounds of self-defense in a life-threatening situation. What concerns us now, however, is not that boy, but these." He indicated Mark and David.

"One minute," Mark said, his brain only now registering what Mr. Corner had said earlier. "Repair the damage? What are you going to do to us?" he screamed. "We didn't do anything wrong," he whispered, begging.

Would they send him to some dungeon? Cast some spell to prevent him from talking? Torture him?

He looked around, his heart pounding. David's expression mirrored his own terror, and Mum seemed close to tears. Dad twitched in his seat as though about to attack the men, but Mr. Corner pulled out his own wand, pointed it at him and said quietly, "Don't try anything," and he remained seated, shaking with rage.

"Relax," Mr. Peasegood said. "I assure you that no harm will come to any of you. This is not about punishment in any way. As you say, you did nothing wrong."

"Then what -" Dad began, but Mr. Corner cut him off.

"We will be placing a Memory Charm on each of you," he said. "This will cause you to forget all the magic you have witnessed, as well as this conversation. It will not cause you any pain or other discomfort."

"I will not permit you to tamper with the minds of my children!" Dad shouted.

"I am afraid," said Mr. Peasegood, "that you have no choice."

He was right, Mark knew. They had no choice. These people could probably turn them all into mice without even leaving their chairs. His parents seemed to be coming to the same conclusion. They looked at each other, then Dad nodded curtly at the wizards. They raised their wands.

"Wait!"

Everyone looked at David in surprise. "Can I ask you something first?" he asked.

"Go on," Mr. Peasegood said, lowering his wand impatiently.

"How do you become a wizard?"

Mark was incredulous. Was David for real?

Mr. Peasegood seemed to agree. "I'm sorry, son," he said sympathetically. "Wizards are simply born that way. There's no way you could just become a wizard, or learn how."

"But you said you weren't born into a magical family," David said.

"Well, not all wizards are," Mr. Corner said irritably. "Some are just born into Muggle - that is to say, non-magical - surroundings. But they're still born that way."

David was clearly not giving up. "But how would a non-magical family know if their child is a wizard?"

"Oh, that's easy," Mr. Peasegood replied. "There will always be all kinds of unexplained, supernatural incidents that occur to and around the young witch or wizard. The magic will reveal itself, in almost all cases by the age of seven."

"So you mean to say," David said, smiling as though he had won an important point in debate, "that if someone - a child - has a bunch of odd, supernatural things happen to them, that child is likely to be a wizard?"

Mark, suddenly realizing exactly what David was after, began to grin.

"Yes, that's just what I said. Now unless you have even more questions, I think it is time to modify your memories," Mr. Peasegood said, raising his wand for the third time, all attempts at patience clearly exhausted.

"Just one more question, Mr. Peasegood," David said in an innocent tone, though this was betrayed by the amusement on his face.

Mr. Peasegood lowered his wand again, by now clearly furious. "What is it now? For heaven's sake, boy, we don't have all night!" Mark struggled to hold back his laughter.

"If the - what did you call it? - 'Muggle' family of a wizard saw magic, would you erase their memories?" David asked with a smirk.

"Obviously not," Mr. Peasegood snapped, and David and Mark, finally pushed past the limit, burst into a flood of uncontrollable laughter.

For at least two full minutes they laughed. They laughed until their sides ached; they laughed until they could no longer breathe; they laughed and laughed and laughed as all the tension of the past few weeks, the fear, the fights, the questions, all melted into a vast puddle of mirth.

They sat and laughed, oblivious to their parents' concerned looks and the wizards' quizzical ones, until Mr. Peasegood finally yelled, "What is going on here?" and they began to sober up.

"Do you want to take this one?" David asked Mark, still chuckling.

Mark nodded, then looked straight at the wizards. He addressed the one who had asked, speaking very seriously now, embracing his destiny. "I'm a wizard, Mr. Peasegood."

Author's Note: Angulus Corner is Michael Corner's father; he's borrowed from Laazov's incomparable fic Goldstein.