Chapter Four: Fear

Mal watched in amazement as his professor put away his wand. The brick wall before him was moving! Suddenly, where a solid wall had been a moment before was a large archway leading to a winding alleyway full of strangely dressed people bustling to and fro.

Professor Lupin had met them on an unassuming London street-corner and led Mal and his baffled parents into a rundown bar, The Leaky Cauldron. Now, they stepped into the alley as Lupin led them to a large, white-marbled building on the end. Mal knew from what Lupin had told him three days before that this was Gringott's, the wizard's bank run by goblins.

As they walked through the crowds, Mal's ever observant mind realized something wasn't quite right. Everyone moved quickly, head's down and not meeting each other's eyes. People seemed to be mostly in large groups, murmuring quietly to one another. Mal picked up bits and pieces of conversations and it was enough to worry him. He could also smell fear in the air, and his animal instincts screamed that it wasn't safe here. He looked up questioningly at Lupin, and saw the werewolf's face was hard and his body was stiff with tension. Mal knew he wasn't afraid, but he was prepared for something to happen. His amber eyes darted across the crowd, looking for any hint of danger, and he kept a watchful eye on Mal and his parents.

"What's going on, Professor?" Mal asked quietly, so that his parents wouldn't hear. "Why is everyone so scared? And who is the 'You-Know-Who' person everyone's whispering about?"

Lupin looked down at the young boy sadly. "Not here, Mal," he said just as quietly, eyes moving to the crowd again. "I'll explain everything, but not here."

Mal nodded. Just then they walked into Gringott's. Mal temporarily forgot his fears at the sight. They had come into a large room with desks lining the walls where teller's saw to hurried customers. Everyone was trying to complete their business as quickly as possible and move on their way.

Lupin led Patrick and Angela up to a counter to exchange some money while Mal hung back. He saw a lone goblin standing against the back wall and went over, curious.

"Hi," he said as he drew close, extending his hand. "I'm Malachi Crowley. What's your name?"

The goblin in question stared for a moment, an expression that Mal thought might be shock on his face. Finally, he reached out his clawed hand and took Mal's.

"I am Griphook, Mr. Crowley."

"Just Mal's fine," said Mal automatically. He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Griphook. You're a goblin right?"

"That is correct…Mal," Griphook responded, a frightening smile appearing on his face. "You are a muggle-born wizard and," he paused here, surprised. "And a natural animagus," he went on, quietly. Mal raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"How did you know," he whispered.

"We goblins know many things. More that the wizards give us credit for."

"Hmm, well I will be sure to remember that," said Mal. "Please don't tell anyone about that. I'm supposed to keep it a secret."

"Of course, Mal."

"Thanks, Griphook!" Seeing his parents and professor leaving, he turned to go as well. "It was nice to talk to you, Griphook. Maybe I'll see you next time." With a parting smile he ran off to join the adults, who had just noticed he was missing. Lupin looked almost panicked.

"Mal, please stay close!" he said, eyes once again watching the crowd as they stepped out into the street.

"Sorry, Professor."

The rest of the shopping trip went by in a blur for Mal. Robes from Madame Malkin's, books from Flourish and Bott's (with a few extra on wizard culture and history and magical creatures of course), potion ingredients from the apothecary, and—after Mal turned down the offer of a pet from the Magical Menagerie and was forcefully drug away from a colorful shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes—a wand from Ollivander's.

The wand was by far Mal's favorite part. After several rejected wand's he had finally found a ten-inch pine wand with a dragon-heartstring core that had warmed in his hand as if it was meant to be there. The light tan wood seemed to glow as he waved it, sending multi-colored sparks into the air.

"Wow," he breathed, unable to say anything more. His parents just stared in awe. After a moment they moved forward to pay for the wand and, after Lupin suggested it, a holster that fit on his forearm so he could quickly and easily reach his wand. His parents had hesitated, questioning its necessity, but Mal rushed to back Lupin, remembering the fearful witches and wizards out in the alley.

Now they were all seated in a corner booth at the Leaky Cauldron, eating lunch. Mal looked to Lupin, wondering if the older man would finally explain. Seeing his look, Lupin took out his own wand and cast several spells.

"Privacy wards," he said, answering their unasked questions. "Now no one can hear what we are saying or interrupt us."

"Why all the secrecy," asked Angela, confused.

"Because Professor Lupin is finally going to explain what the hell is going on and why it appears that the world we are about to send our eleven-year-old son into seems to be filled with terror," answered Patrick. Mal just looked at Lupin.

"I do apologized for not saying anything sooner, but I was worried you would refuse to allow Mal to come and quite honestly, that would be even more dangerous," said Lupin, his face tired and strained.

"Explain," was all Patrick said, grasping his wife's hand. Both looked worried.

"The wizarding world is on the verge of war, a war that will doubtless cost many lives, magical and muggle alike. There is a dark wizard, Lord Voldemort—though many refer to him as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—who is gathering followers, called Death Eaters. The wizard was a great power years ago, but was temporarily defeated. Three years ago he began to rise to power again, but he has yet to act, at least not openly. Those in our world fear his very name." Here he paused, glancing between the three people with him. Taking a deep breath, he went on. "Many in the wizarding world believe in the idea of blood purity, that full-blood wizards are superior to half-bloods or muggle-borns. Voldemort has manipulated these beliefs to gain power. He claims to want to give power to all pure-bloods and set them up as the ruling class, with everyone else as servants or slaves." Lupin took on a pained expression. "He despises muggles and muggle-borns."

The Crowley's sat and thought for a moment, taking is all in. It was the youngest Crowley who finally broke the silences.

"So, basically what you're saying is this Moldywarts guy is a wizard Hitler seeking world domination with his Nazi army and we are, in this little analogy, the Jews," he said, all with a cool sarcasm that concealed the fear building inside him. "Is that right?"

Lupin nodded sadly. Mal sighed and started to say something else when Angela cut him off.

"Well then we just won't send him to Hogwarts," she said stubbornly. "We haven't had any problems with this war of yours before and if we just go back home and lay low then we'll be fine. Right?" she finished, her voice pleading.

It was Patrick who answered, shaking his head.

"No, dear, Mal cannot hide from this. He is a part of their world and it's gonna catch up with him sooner or later." Looking at his son he went on, "Better he goes to learn now so he can defend himself when the time comes. We've taught him how to protect himself as best we can, but I doubt that'll do much good against magic and dark lords."

"You're right," said Lupin. "Voldemort's lying low now, but before long he'll be making himself known again. I'm sorry to say that your son will be part of this war, one way or another." Everyone turned to look at Mal. He'd been staring at the worn wood of the table for most of the conversation. Sensing their gazes, he looked up. They could all see that he was scared, and rightly so. But they could also see defiance in those eyes, challenging anyone who dared call him inferior or threaten his family. He grinned.

"I guess it's a good thing I've got an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, eh Professor?"