CHAPTER 12: THE END OF THE BEGINNING
"Gosh darn it!" Ten-year-old Jimmy O'Bannon slapped the cushion of the large sofa he sat on, scowling at the TV. He watched Bernie Williams' line drive bounce all the way to the crocked center field wall. One Yankee crossed the plate, followed by another. Jimmy growled as stupid Bernie Williams stood on third base with a triple. The Fenway faithful rained boos on that useless tool of a pitcher Tim Wakefield. Jimmy joined in the chorus, hoping the closed door of the den muffled his jeering. His parents had yelled at him more times than he could count about getting carried away while watching sports.
He crossed his arms and slammed his back into the sofa, his narrowed eyes fixed on the score in the upper right hand corner of the screen. 7-1 in favor of those crap-eating Yankees. And it was only the third inning!
Maybe the TV will blow up and I won't have to watch this cruddy game anymore. That actually happened last year when he'd been watching the Yankees womp on the Bosox. Paul O'Neill had jacked a grand slam. Jimmy started yelling at the TV and it just blew up. Mom and Dad had no idea what caused it. TVs don't suddenly blow up, they said.
He sighed as Boston's manager slowly walked to the mound to yank Wakefield. What he wouldn't give for the Fall, just over a month away, to never come. The outlook for Boston sports looked pretty bleak. The toejam sucking Yankees seemed to have the American League East title sewn up. The Patriots wouldn't do squat with Drew Bledsoe at quarterback, at least that's what all the sports talk shows said. The Bruins would probably be also-rans again. And the Celtics? Well, they hadn't been the same since Larry Bird retired.
But sucky sports teams wasn't the only thing he fretted over. He'd be returning to school soon. Fifth Grade. Only this time he wouldn't have Paul, Zach, Brady and Geoff to pal around with.
Jimmy folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them. His shoulders sagged. I shouldn't have stood up for Timmy Warren. If he'd just let his friends pound on the fat nerd, if he'd joined them in beating up Timmy, everything would be cool. His friends wouldn't hate him. They wouldn't have gotten the rest of the class to turn against him. But watching Timmy cry and beg as everyone took turns hitting him made Jimmy sick to his stomach. How could people do that to a kid who never bothered anyone?
No doubt about it. School was going to suck this year.
A knock on the door startled him. Jimmy turned to find the door opening.
"Jimmy?" Mom poked her head inside.
"Yeah, Mom?"
"Um, I . . . I need you to come to the living room. Now."
Jimmy's eyebrows scrunched together. Something rippled through his insides. Mom looked worried. Maybe even scared. What the heck was going on?
He dragged himself off the couch, not bothering to shut off the TV. He stared at Mom's round face, framed by coiffed black hair. She bit her lip as she gazed down at him. His neck muscles tightened. Was he in trouble? If so, wouldn't Mom be yelling at him?
He followed her down the little hallway and into the living room. Dad sat in his easy chair, his tall frame at an angle, his eyes fixed on someone. Jimmy followed his gaze. His eyes bulged when he saw the person sitting on the sofa.
The squat woman wore long navy blue robes with shiny silver sequins. She had a compact face with numerous wrinkles. Dark gray curls of hair spilled out from under her pointy . . . well, witch's hat was the best description he had for it. Despite being old, the woman had a certain vibrancy to her.
Who is she?
He looked at his parents. Both gave the weird-looking old woman cautious stares. Why didn't they seem comfortable around her? Why would they invite her into the house if they had any misgivings about her?
Jimmy slid closer to Mom. His heart pounded hard in his chest.
"Hello, Jimmy." The strange old lady smiled and stood.
"Hi," he responded shyly. He found himself pressed against Mom's leg.
"I've been looking forward to meeting you." She walked around the coffee table and approached him, still smiling.
Jimmy looked at his parents again. Despite the woman's friendly demeanor, Mom and Dad still appeared nervous.
"My name is Athena Esmeralda." She stuck out her hand.
He gazed at it for several seconds. The lady seemed nice, but the way Mom and Dad stared at her . . .
Jimmy sucked down a breath and shook her hand. "Wh-Why are you here?"
"Well, I'm here to talk about your future."
Mom put a hand on his shoulder. His entire body tightened. My future? Was he in some kind of big trouble? Had he done something really bad? What could it have been?
"You see, I'm the headmistress of a very special school, one for children like you."
"Like me?" Jimmy scrunched up his face in confusion. What the heck made him special? He was an okay student. Maybe it had to do with hockey or baseball. He was good at those sports.
Athena Esmeralda took a step closer to him. He realized if he stood on his tip toes he could look her in the eye.
"Jimmy," she said. "I know this is going to sound unbelievable, but I assure you it's true. You've read and heard stories about witches and wizards, haven't you?"
"Yeah."
"Well, they're more than stories. Witches and wizards do exist."
"What?" He drew his head back in surprise. Mom's grip on his shoulder tightened. He looked to her, then Dad. He'd never seen them so tense in his life.
"What . . . what does this have to do with me?" he stammered.
Athena Esmeralda's smile grew wider. "You're a wizard, Jimmy."
His jaw fell open. He gaped at the old lady with unblinking eyes. He tried to say something, but it came out as unintelligible gasps.
Finally he found his voice, barely. "A-Are you serious?"
Athena Esmeralda pulled a stick from beneath her robes. "Do you mind?" She gazed at Mom and Dad.
They both gave slight shakes of their heads.
The – witch? – held out the stick and flicked it.
The framed photos on the fireplace mantle floated in the air.
Shock overwhelmed him. It had to be some kind of trick.
The photos arranged themselves in a straight line and flew around the living room. Jimmy whipped his head around to follow them. This couldn't . . . how . . .
The photos returned to the fireplace mantle, exactly where they had been a minute ago.
"Of course, that's not as impressive as say . . . Expecto Patronum!"
Mom yelped as a beam of white light shot from Athena Esmeralda's stick. Dad pushed himself back in his chair as a ghostly white hawk formed and soared around the room. Seconds later it vanished.
Jimmy breathed heavily, his eyes focused entirely on Athena Esmeralda. "That was so cool!"
The witch smiled.
"Oh my God. You really are a witch. You can do, like, real magic and stuff."
"That's correct."
"And me? I mean, can I really do that kind of stuff, too?"
"Well, not yet. You have the ability in you. It's just a matter of honing it. The school I run will help you do that."
"What school's that?"
"The Salem Witches Institute." Athena Esmeralda said proudly.
"But-But . . . I mean, how can I be a wizard?"
"Well, for you it's a rather unique situation. You see, the majority of witches and wizards come from families that already have magical roots. But sometimes boys and girls born into non-magical families, what we call Muggles, wind up with magical abilities. There are many theories as to why this happens, but no one has been able to determine the truth. Still, it happens, and as fortune would have it, it happened to you."
"But how did it happen to me? I've never done anything like you just did."
"Nor would you be able to at your young age. But your abilities would manifest themselves in periodic bursts when your emotions are running high. Usually emotions like fear or anger."
"Remember the TV last year, Jimmy?"
He turned to Dad. "Yeah. It just exploded for no . . ." He stopped, his mouth hanging open. He remembered how furious he'd been when Paul O'Neill hit that grand slam. Not many things made him as angry as watching the butt-sniffing Yankees beat his Red Sox.
Oh my God. It was me. I blew up the TV.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to do it."
"Jimmy, don't worry about it." Dad held up a hand. "I think we have more important issues here than a destroyed television."
Jimmy nodded and looked to Athena Esmeralda, who still smiled at him. He quickly forgot about the blown up TV. This was really real. He was a wizard. He, James Michael O'Bannon, was an honest-to-God wizard. And he'd be going to a school with other wizards.
Images popped into his head. He saw himself waving a magic wand, conjuring a ghostly hawk like Athena Esmeralda had, or making objects float or turning buttheads who made him mad into rats.
Outside of playing hockey, he couldn't think of anything that could be more fun than being an actual wizard.
"Yo, Jimmy!" A loud voice shook the world. "Wake up!"
O'Bannon's eyes snapped open. The living room and everyone in it had vanished. Instead a stocky young man with curled black hair stood over him.
"Come on, man," urged Jared Diaz. "Tonks said it's time to rise and shine."
O'Bannon rubbed his eyes and scanned his little bedroom. That's right. He was in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts.
He groaned and sat up on his cot.
"Hope I didn't interrupt a hot dream." Jared grinned.
"Actually I was dreaming about Headmistress Esmeralda."
Jared backed away, his face contorted. "Oh no way. She wasn't naked, was she?"
"What!? No! Eew! What the hell's wrong with you, asking something like that?"
"You're the one dreaming about our Headmistress, not me."
O'Bannon scowled at his friend. "I was dreaming about the first time I met her, when she told me I was a wizard, you dipstick."
"Oh. I think my dream was better. Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell were in it. You wanna know what they were wearing? Or not wearing?"
O'Bannon's eyebrows went up. "Well, now my curiosity is piqued."
The curtain got shoved open. Rosa Infante appeared, a stern look on her face. "Hey, quit yankin' your cranks and get a move on."
"Yes, your highness." Jared bowed to his cousin. "I live to serve."
Rosa flipped him the bird.
After Jared went back to his bedroom, O'Bannon padded into the bathroom.
Now I know why the Brits call these things water closets. The damn thing was about the size of a closet. All he had to do was take two steps back from the toilet and he'd be in the shower, which would be a tight fit even for little Professor Flitwick, never mind him.
A shower, a shave – with his wand – and a change of clothes revitalized him. Except for his stomach. A growl came from that empty pit. When was the last time he'd eaten? It had to have been back on the plane. My God, was that yesterday?
He drew back the curtain and stepped out of his little bedroom. He stared at the floor, the dream replaying in his mind. He closed his eyes, drifting back to that day more than six years ago. He'd entered this world wide-eyed and naïve. Being a wizard was supposed to be fun, making things happen with a wave of the wand, flying on brooms, mixing potions, turning bricks into toy ships. Even better, when he began to notice girls as . . . girls, he appreciated the fact real-life witches didn't resemble the crocked, wrinkly old hags he'd seen in movies like The Wizard of Oz. That was certainly the case with Rosa and Tonks and Mireet Miradeaux and . . . Rana Rollingsworth.
His shoulders sagged. The magical world might be amazing, but it also had the same sorts of problems as the Muggle world. Broken hearts, prejudice, self-serving politicians, greed, war.
Then, of course, there was the power mad dark wizard bent on taking over both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Lord Voldemort would be one step closer to that goal if O'Bannon couldn't alert the Order of the Phoenix about the Longathian Tunnel.
So much for the wizarding world being fun.
"Jimmy. You okay?"
He looked up to find Artimus Rand hobbling over to him, concern radiating from the tall boy's face.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"About . . .?"
O'Bannon twisted his lips. "About how to warn the Order? Can't think about anything else, can we?"
"No, I guess not."
O'Bannon spotted Tonks using her wand to form a circle of cushions. He noticed she had changed her appearance. The black-haired, mousy look of Katerina Ponce was no more. Instead, Tonks had given herself shoulder-length purple hair, higher cheekbones, and a shortened nose.
She looked really good.
Even in her Katerina Ponce guise, she looked really good.
He took a seat next to Tonks, with Artimus to his left and Jared and Rosa sitting across from him. They started brainstorming. Artimus asked about simply sending a Patronus Charm to contact the Order.
Tonks shook her head. "Given all the aurors around here and the protective charms surrounding Hogwarts, any patronus message we send runs the risk of being detected."
Rosa suggested using one of the secret passages. O'Bannon wondered about sneaking across the grounds in the dead of night and going over the wall. Tonks nixed both ideas, at least until they learned how many aurors patrolled Hogwarts, their locations and whether they still had that Anti-Apparation Field set up around Hogsmeade.
"By the time we find all that out, You-Know-Who's reinforcements will be here," said Jared.
"Well we're not going to help the Order any by getting ourselves captured," she countered.
"Isn't there anyone else from the Order here that we can trust?" asked Rosa.
Tonks slowly bobbed her head left and right. Seconds of silence passed before she sat up straighter. "Of course. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."
"You got someone?" O'Bannon slid closer to her.
"Yes I do. Professor Snape."
"Snape?" A disgusted look came over his face. Then he remembered. Back at Salem, Tonks had said Snape was part of the Order of the Phoenix. Actually, he'd been the one who alerted them to a Projection Potion being used at the school.
Then he remembered something else. "Well, if we're going to tell him, I hope he's conscious to hear it."
"What do you mean?" Tonks canted her head.
O'Bannon shifted in his cushion. He averted his eyes from Tonks. "Um, well, I forgot to mention it when I was giving the rundown of our little adventure to the D.A."
Sighing, he turned his gaze back to Tonks. "I ran into Snape in one of the corridors. He drew his wand on me and I struggled with him. That's when this auror showed up and stunned Snape by mistake. Nailed him right in the head. And when he fell, he banged his head on the floor. The guy has to have a concussion, maybe a pretty bad one."
Tonks closed her eyes and lifted her head to the ceiling. A groan percolated in her throat. O'Bannon's eyes fell to his lap. Was Tonks upset with him? Why the hell shouldn't she be? He wished he could crawl under this cushion and remain out of Tonks' sight. A crushing sense of failure pressed down on him. Not so much failure. More the knowledge he'd let Tonks down. He couldn't bear that.
"We'll have to get someone from the D.A. to find out Snape's condition," Tonks stated, her hard stare locked on him.
O'Bannon again looked away from her.
The strategy session went on. Everyone offered up ideas, with the exception of Artimus, who simply sat quietly and gently rubbed his injured knee. Jared wondered about capturing one of the aurors and trying to convince him of the Longathian Tunnel. Tonks doubted that would work, since they really had no evidence other than their word.
Another hour passed. They were still no closer to figuring out how to contact the Order. By this time O'Bannon's stomach was screaming for food. He and his friends had only brought some candy bars and bottled water with them. It wasn't like they had planned to stick around for a long time in England, or be forced to hide in the Room of Requirement. O'Bannon inhaled two Milky Ways and drained his water. That just put a little dent in his hunger.
I'd kill for a pizza right now . . . and some buffalo wings . . . and a couple chocolate crullers from Dunkin' Donuts.
His stomach growled loudly. He tried to erase any thought of food from his mind, not wanting to torture himself. Instead he visualized himself at Fenway Park scarfing down hot dogs and French fries. He moaned to himself.
The door to the Room of Requirement opened.
Everyone whipped around toward the door. O'Bannon's hand went for his wand. Tonks already had hers out.
The air shimmered. A cloak waved about. Out of nowhere Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger materialized.
"Holy crap!" Jared leapt to his feet. "You guys have an invisibility cloak? Too cool!"
"Whoa," O'Bannon mouthed silently. Invisibility cloaks were very rare. He couldn't imagine how three 15-year-olds came across one.
"Are you lot doing all right?" Harry asked as he shut the door.
"Oh yeah." Sarcasm laced Jared's tone. "We're having a ball in here."
"Well hopefully you won't be in here much longer." Hermione walked over to them. "We just figured out who we can use to get a message to the Order of the Phoenix."
"Who?" O'Bannon's chest clenched in anticipation.
A smile grew across Harry's face. "Hagrid."
TO BE CONTINUED
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Jimmy O'Bannon's reference to Timmy Warren and his Muggle schoolmates is chronicled in my one-shot "The Luna Effect."