Chapter 4: Blood and Barriers
On September the First, Lewis awoke at five in the morning. He tried to roll over and fall back asleep, but he was simply too excited. Instead, he pulled out his well-worn copy of Hogwarts: A History, hoping to read away the hours before he could leave. This would have been much more effective, however, had he not continued to check the clock every minute. At last, the time read eight, and Lewis could justify showering and putting on the clothes he had carefully laid out the night before (he could have sworn that he saw Fletcher smirking at his mismatched socks in Diagon Alley). Unfortunately for Lewis, his mother insisted that he have a full breakfast, standing over him making sure he crammed every bit of eggs into a stomach already filled with nerves before she would let him drag them all out to the car.
The journey to King's Cross Station wasn't long, and soon enough Lewis was helping his father lift his enormous trunk out of the boot and onto the trolley his mother brought over.
Five minutes later, the family stood in front of the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Lewis pulled out his ticket and the note that had come with it and checked again.
"It says we just walk through the barrier to get to Platform 9 ¾."
"Well," his father responded, " I suppose there's nothing else for it. Take a deep breath, and grab onto the trolley."
Together, they walked towards the barrier, picking up speed as they went, until they were nearly running. Just as they were about to collide, Lewis closed his eyes, afraid to look. Yet, there was no crash, at least not until a few seconds later. Lying on the ground next to his trunk, Lewis finally opened his eyes. The note had been correct; they hadn't collided with the brick barrier. He and his parents were in another area entirely. In the distance, he could see a large steam engine, with Hogwarts Express painted in gold lettering on the side. And all around the platform were groups of people talking together in low voices, parents helping their children lift their heavy trunks from the platform to the train. Some were dressed normally; others wore a strange assortment of colours and styles. But all of this activity was separated from Lewis by yet another barrier. The clear, shimmering curtain in front of him didn't look nearly as solid as the brick barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 had; yet Lewis knew instinctively that it would be far more effective in preventing him from advancing. Slowly, the three of them got to their feet. And, as his parents righted his trunk, Lewis noticed the two men in long black robes flanking the barrier.
"Blood status?" asked the shorter of the two men, for what Lewis realised must have been the second time.
"I'm sorry, sir, what do you mean?"
"Well, I suppose there's little doubt on that front then," the man chuckled to his partner.
Turning back to Lewis, he asked again, "Well then, Mr. Mudblood, names and identification."
At this point, Mr. Moore stepped forward, "Tom and Amelia Moore, and this is our son Lewis. He's starting his first year at Hogwarts." There was a glint of pride in his eyes as he handed the man his identification.
"Firs' off, muggle," the other man said, stepping forward menacingly, "Avery was asking the mudblood. Second, that's not going to be 'appening any time soon. New rules. You've got to 'ave pure blood to be attending 'ogwarts, and judging by the looks of you two, little Louie 'ere ain't gonna meet that requirement. So, if you don't mind pissin' off, we're gonna be talking to 'im for a while about that stolen wand 'e's got there in 'is pocket."
And with that, he stepped forward, making to grab Lewis by the arm. Without hesitating, Tom Moore stepped in front of his son to protect him, knocking the man aside as he did so.
A strange smile spread across the man's face. With a dangerous glint in his eye, he turned back to Avery, "You see what 'appens when you try an play nice wit 'em. Don't appreciate nuffink these muggles. Really, just makin' a muck o the place."
"Too true, Troy," Avery responded, taking out his wand.
Before Lewis knew what was happening, Troy and Avery were pointing their wands at Mr. and Mrs. Moore and saying words he didn't recognize. There was a flash of green light and his parents fell suddenly to the ground. Lewis made to rush over them, but one of the men Troy or Avery, he wasn't sure which had grabbed hold of him. A few minutes and a fierce bout of spinning and nausea later, he was alone in a dark room, with nothing before him but the image of his parents falling to the ground again and again, as if he were in the cinema and there were something wrong with the projector.
A few hours later, Lewis heard a creaking at the door of what he now realised was a jail cell. He propped himself up to a sitting position and watched as another figure was tossed into the room. The new prisoner seemed to be as disoriented as he had been when he arrived, but once he got his bearings he made his way over to the bars, trying to find a way to open the door again.
"There's no way out," Lewis told the boy, who he now saw to be about his age.
"Well, sitting over there as you are, it doesn't seemed that you've looked very much," the boy responded.
"Do you really think that you can just break out of wizard jail?"
"Don't know enough about them to be sure," insisted the boy, but he stepped away from the bars and sat down next to Lewis.
"What's your name," he asked, abandoning the escape attempt for the time being.
"Lewis Moore."
"I'm Roger, Roger Middleton. I was supposed to be starting at Hogwarts today, or at least that's what that McGonagall woman said when she came to my house. I should have known that all her talk of me being a wizard would end up like this. But honestly, what are they on about, promising me magic and then locking me up in here?"
Lewis just nodded.
"It's just wrong. If I wasn't permitted to attend their stinking school, what was the purpose of going to all the trouble of inviting me in the first place? Would have saved me a lot of quid."
The boy didn't seem to need much encouragement, and went on in this way for quite a while, satisfied with the nods and mumbled yes's that Lewis offered from time to time.
Eventually, though, he asked, "Well, what about you?"
Lewis didn't know what to say. How could he possibly explain all that had happened today?
"The same."
"The same?" Roger asked, "What does that mean? Did you get a letter just as you were leaving saying perhaps it would be better if you didn't come at all, and then an hour later have people pounding on your door demanding that you come with them?"
"It was at the train station, but I'm here aren't I? What more is there to know?"
"Among other things," Roger insisted, "it would be nice to know what happens next."
But neither he nor Lewis had any idea. Lewis hardly understood what had happened this morning. So he returned to his nods and murmured agreements and let Roger spill out his anger.
"Git up you two."
Lewis sat up, confused by the strange surroundings, letting the events of yesterday sink in slowly, feeling the sadness and shame wash over him again. Unfortunately, the time it took him and Roger to re-acclimate themselves was a bit too long for the man at the door.
"Move along, or I'll make you regret it."
Lewis looked over at Roger. He could see the other boy considering a retort, but he remembered what this man, Troy, had done yesterday all too well now. Lewis decided that it would be best to just do what the man wanted. He got to his feet, dragging Roger up with him, and together they walked towards the door.
"S'about time. You wouldn't want to be late fer yer hearin', now would ye?"
Lewis didn't even try to stop Roger this time, "And what hearing is that?"
"Now you didn't think they'd be lettin' you get off w' nothin' fer stealing magic did ye?"
Lewis looked around at the cell they had just spent the night in. If this was nothing, he didn't want to know what came next.
"We didn't steal anything!" Roger was insisting
Troy's face took on a cruel smile, "Dirty muggles never come by magic natural and jus' lookin' at you two I can see that yer blood is right muddy. Indeed, comin' from paren's like you got," he said, looking at Lewis now, "I'm surprised tha' I don' see yeh down there crawlin' about w' the worms."
Lewis felt something slide out of place in his stomach at the mention of his parents. It had taken most of the night, be he had finally managed to block the strange green light out of his mind. Now, at Troy's words, it all came rushing back. The dirty walls of the prison corridor he was leading them along faded away and all he could see was his parents lying there on the ground unconscious – or at least so he told himself. He couldn't allow any other possibility to enter his mind.
An hour later, Lewis was sitting beside Roger on a hard wooden bench, feeling himself descend into a sea of misery. The dark corridor to which they had been taken, though much cleaner than the prison cell in which they had spent the night, was unmistakably more terrifying. Perhaps it was the chill in the air, but Lewis could no longer keep the thoughts and fears that he had tried to protect himself from all night at bay.
So lost was he in the events of the day before, that Lewis hardly noticed when a shrill voice broke the silence and called for Tom Alderton to step forward. He raised his head enough to see the rather portly man on his right stand and step, trembling through the doorway in front of them. A moment later, however, he had fallen back into his thoughts, wishing for nothing more than that the cold in the chamber would stop his heart and allow him to rejoin the parents whose fate he could not, in the midst of this miserable mist, deny any longer.
Lewis looked up as the door in front of him opened again. This time two wizards were frog-marching the portly man from earlier from the room. In the short while he had been inside Tom Alderton had gone from trembling to shaking uncontrollably. At first, Lewis thought he was merely shrieking, but as he listened, he realized that the man was pleading with his guards,
"No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you – get your hands off me, get your hands off -"
Again, the shrill voice came out from the chamber, "this is your final warning…If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."
Lewis had no idea what a Dementor was, nor why anyone would be worried about kissing it, but Alderton seemed to know, for though tears continued to flow from his eyes and his body continued to shake, his mouth remained firmly closed.
He disappeared down the hallway in the arms of his hooded guards, and the voice spoke once again, "Next – Mary Cattermole."
This time it was a small woman with dark hair who stood. Lewis wondered briefly if her fate would be as terrible as Alderton's had clearly been. Too quickly, however, this brought him back to thoughts of his own unknown fate and that which had befallen his parents. Once more, his surroundings faded away, and he felt the cold wash freshly over him as he succumbed to misery.