The Christmas holiday was upon the boys before they knew it.

Bertram was in the library, frantically looking through a book about aquatic plants and copying down information in preparation for his final assignment. Anthony sat next to him, idly looking through another book and copying down a few sentences, trying out new rhythms with his fingers from time to time. Mac came through the door with a couple of lumpy packages.

"Oh good," he said. "I wanted ta catch ya before everyone left for the holidays. I got summat for ya. It's na much, but I hope ya like it."

Anthony opened his to reveal a record player. "Thanks!" he told Mac. "But isn't it a little small?"

Mac pointed his wand at it. "Engorgio!" he said. The record player soon swelled to a normal size. Mac pointed his wand at it again. "Reducio!" he said. The record player shrunk again and Mac and Bertram chuckled at Anthony's dismayed face.

"Now you'll have to practice," said Bertram.

Anthony smiled in spite of himself. "I guess I'd better. Thanks. Really."

Bertram's present was about the Beatles, focusing on how they wrote their songs. "I love it!" said Bertram. "This will give me some great ideas. But we didn't get you anything!"

"Speak for yourself," said Anthony. "Wait here." He rushed off and returned out of breath a little while later with two packages, which he handed to Mac and Bertram. "Happy Christmas," he told them.

Mac's present was a quill that could transcribe whatever it heard into notes on a page and color-changing ink, while Bertram received a book that generated rhymes when a word was written in it.

Soon it was time to board the train back to King's Cross. The boys promised to practice over break and Mac reminded them again how to use Muggle post. When Anthony's parents picked him up, they were quite stern.

"We've gotten letters about your schoolwork," said Muriel. "This holiday, you're grounded. You won't get to go to anywhere except family functions so you can practice."

"You need to be shown a hard work ethic," said his father. "That's how I got to where I am. None of this drumming nonsense."

"But you don't understand," whined Anthony. "We're fighting against You-Know-Who."

"That's enough!" said Muriel. "I won't hear of it. You're going to practice your spells and that's final."

Anthony groaned. At least he'd have his record player and the few records Mac had lent him.

Later in his room, he opened his Standard Book of Spells Grade 3 and pulled out his wand. He studied it carefully, pointed it at his record player, and said "Engorgio." His thoughts drifted to all the music he would listen to on it, a drumming riff he heard the other day, and his wand turned into a drumstick as he started drumming the pattern.

He tried again. "Engorgio," he said, and thoughts of the Hufflepuff girl popped into his head. They hadn't gotten to talk much after that one day in Divination. Would she talk to him some more? Maybe they could hang out.

Anthony sighed and put his wand down. It was going to be a long holiday. He flipped idly through the book, then took another look at his record player and decided to try again. Picking up his wand, he thought about the music he would be able to listen to once it was larger. "Engorgio," he said. The record player shuddered, then grew to its normal size. Anthony whooped, then put on a rock album. His father was up the stairs in an instant. "What is that noise?" he asked. "You're supposed to be practicing!"

"I am," Anthony said. "Watch. Engorgio! Engorgio!" He pointed his wand at a few things in the room and they grew larger. His father's eyes narrowed.

"Hm," he said. "Well all right. I was a bit of a rebel in my day, you know. Carry on. But you'd better get those back to normal size before your mother sees them."

Normal size? Anthony thought as his father went back down the stairs. He sighed as he flipped through his book for the Reducio spell.

When Anthony returned to Hogwarts, the rest of the year went by in a blur. Between practices and schoolwork, Anthony and his friends were so busy that they were surprised when summer arrived. Diana had been a frequent visitor at their listening sessions in the common room.

With only a day or two left of classes, Bertram asked Anthony and Mac to stay over during the summer. When they eagerly agreed, he told them how to get there using the Muggle way and they all promised to write using stamps.

Anthony spent the next month at home, listening to records, trying to practice a couple of spells, and waiting impatiently. Meanwhile, he started dreaming more frequently. There was the recurring dream about the rock band, in which he recognized Mac and Bertram. But he was also having flashes of images so frightening he resolved to work harder on the meditation that Professor Vector had taught him. Images of green light and skull-shaped clouds in a clear sky. Echoes of screams. He was acting so odd that his parents asked him what was wrong, but he waved them off.

"He's a growing boy," his father said to a worried Muriel. "He's feeling a lot at this age. He'll get over it soon enough."

Anthony was in his room one day, drumming in the air. He had been trying to practice the banishing charm, but the wand motion put him in mind of a rhythm so he was trying that out instead. His parents burst into the room holding a letter with a stamp.

"Mum! Dad! Knocking!" Anthony said, quickly stopping his drumming.

"What's this?" Muriel asked him. "We found it in the mailbox along with the advertisements and political fliers. Why didn't it come by owl?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Anthony, taking the letter from them. "That's from my friend Bertram, remember I told you about him."

"The Muggle?" asked Muriel.

"Muggle-born wizard," corrected Anthony. "And a good one, too. He-" he was about to say "gave me this record player, but instead changed it to "taught me the Engorgio charm."

"And I suppose he introduced you to rock music as well, did he?" asked his father. Anthony mused that for being absent so often, his father didn't miss much.

"Well, yes," said Anthony. "He wants to know if I can stay over at his place for a little while during the summer. His parents are very nice and respected in their community." He added, "I think his father works at a bank."

"A bank?" his father said thoughtfully. "Well, that sounds all right by me. What do you think, Muriel?"

"What about your schoolwork?" asked Muriel. "How are you coming along with that?"

"Fine," said Anthony. It wasn't a lie, not really. He could do more spells than when he started, even if it wasn't as many as he should. And he figured that he could work on his essays with Bertram and Mac.

"And You-Know-Who?"

"There haven't been reports of him in London," replied Anthony. "Actually, there hasn't been much news of him at all lately. Most people think he's out of the country or that the rumors were made up."

"I suppose if it's all right with your father," said Muriel doubtfully. "But make sure to write. And be sure to practice!"

"We'll take you where you need to go," said Emmett. "I'd like to meet this banker myself."

A week later, Anthony and his family followed the instructions in Bertram's letter and soon found themselves at a modest-sized house not far from downtown London. Emmett and Bertram's father talked about banking for what seemed an age to Anthony until finally Emmett and Muriel bade goodbye to Anthony.

Bertram excitedly showed his room to Anthony, who was ecstatic about all of the gadgets. They were in the middle of an electronic game called PONG when Mac arrived.

"Me parents almost didn't let me come!" he said by way of greeting. "They were afraid that You-Know-Who is going to pop out from under the bed or summat. Hey, what's that? Is it a video game? My parents wouldn't let me get one, you're so lucky! So what should we do first?"

"I've been thinking about that," said Bertram. "We're not far from the city. I think we should explore."

"Are you allowed?" asked Anthony.

"Sure," said Bertram. "My parents let me do pretty much anything I want. Ever since they found out I'm a wizard…" he said the last part a little sadly and trailed off.

"No matter," he continued brightly. "Let's go exploring!"

He went down the steps two at a time, leaving his friends no choice but to follow him.

"Mum! Dad!" he called. "I'm going out!"

"All right, dear," said his mother. "Will you want to eat when you get home?"

"Yes please," said Bertram.

"I'll keep something warm for you," she said. "Er, have fun. Don't get into trouble now. Of course, not that you…I love you!"

"Where's dad?" Bertram asked.

"In his study. I'll tell him you're out."

"Thanks mum! See you later!"

"Wow," said Mac. "Your parents are nice. Mine woulda asked me a million questions. I hope we'll be ok in our robes."

"How did they react when you found out you were a wizard?" asked Anthony curiously.

"I think they were a little worried I think when two strange men in robes showed up," said Bertram, "but they told me later they were glad they weren't going crazy what with all of the strange stuff that had happened around me when I was little. Look! There's a double-decker bus!" he continued, abruptly changing the subject. "Let's take one, they're great!"

Anthony remembered a song Bertram had written about not giving into fear, but decided not to pry any further as they boarded the bus and climbed up to the top. His thoughts were interrupted by Mac's shout.

"Look! Stop the bus! Stop the bus!" he was shouting, much to the alarm of the other passengers.

Bertram pulled the cord and asked, "What is it, Mac?"

Mac pointed at a building. "Doesn't that look familiar?" he asked. "Oh, and look, I know that one," he said, pointing at a building that said "Roxy" in big bright letters. "That's where that band was playing the last time we visited. Remember? And that's where we sat and got some waters. This is near…"

"Shh!" said Anthony, looking around.

Mac continued, whispering. "This is where..the portal to Hogsmeade is."

"King's Road," said a voice over the intercom as the bus pulled over.

The boys got off of the bus and Bertram checked his wristwatch. "We have a little while before the last bus," he said. "But it's not far of a walk to my house, either, maybe 30 minutes. My father walks to work sometimes and the bank is the stop after this one."

The boys walked around, a lot more interested in exploring now that they knew where they were. They passed shops with leather jackets and clothing so wild it looked almost like what a wizard's idea of Muggle clothing would be. They laughed at a sign that said Smutz, where Mac dared Bertram to go in. He returned with stories of military jackets and T-shirts with adult pictures on them. "I swear, it looked like the pictures on my dad's magazines!" he said, to laughter from Mac and Anthony.

A store called "Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die" had Bertram taking out his notebook and scribbling song ideas.

They passed several music venues, some hidden downstairs and some in the open. But the people were the strangest of all.

There were people wearing sandwich boards advertising bands and stores. There were women in skimpy outfits, smoking and hanging out by doorways. Mac found that he needn't have worried about their robes because everyone looked odd. Some wore their hair in bright pink spikes. Some wore clothing which looked very much like wizard robes. Leather jackets, chains, and studs were everywhere they looked.

"Is this a hidden wizard community?" asked Anthony.

"I don't think so," said Mac. "There are too many cars and there's electricity in the shops. Hey, how do you think I'd look in one of these jackets? And look at these boots!"

"Look at that drum kit," sighed Anthony at the next window. "I'd have to save up for a million years to buy something like that."

"Not long," said Bertram. "That one's price comes out to only a few Galleons. This is a secondhand shop."

Anthony fingered the coins in his pocket. He still had a little left over from his birthday and maybe if he asked his parents for some more money..

The boys explored for a little while longer, finally boarding the bus back to Bertram's house.

"Did you have fun?" asked Bertram's father when they walked through the door.

"Yeah," they said. "It was great!"

"Good," replied Bertram's father. "Your mother set your friends up in the guest room. She kept your dinner hot for you if you'd like some. But I suppose you could just magick it warm again."

"Dad, I've been telling you, I can't do magic here," said Bertram. "But thank you."

His father sat near them as they ate, awkwardly asking a few questions, before they all went up to bed.

The boys each lay in their beds, their eyes wide and their brains buzzing. It was going to be an exciting summer.