A Land Without Magic

by Model Builder

Two years after the abrupt defeat of You-Know-Who in the UK, the American Wizarding Community's sense of complacency was shattered by an event known as the 10/22/83 Maine Incursion. Who are the Invaders from the Enchanted Realms and what do they want? And will a ten-year-old muggle boy who claims to have been inside the Incursion be able to answer these and other questions?

18. Memories

Chapter 18: Memories

Jennifer Jordan had finished telling her dad what had happened at (and away from) school just as they pulled up to their new home. "So, what do we do now, dad?"

Ren Jordan said, "We'll have to contact the FBS as soon as possible sometime tonight to let them know what happened. But first, I'd like to speak with Owen and answer any questions that he may have before I call them. From what you just told me, that boy has been through a horrible ordeal. The last thing that we need right now is for some gung-ho Auror to apparate inside our home with a loud bang and traumatize him even more.

"But for now, I want you to bring Corey up to speed about what happened before Owen comes over. He's in the backyard waiting for you, and I know that he's anxious to see you again. In the meantime, I'll let the Lovegoods know what happened. Also, your mom will be calling us around 5:30 tonight, now that we have a phone. And I've got to get started on dinner for everyone in a little bit."

"French Toast?" said Jenny smiling.

Ren smiled himself, and shrugged. "What else?"

"Wonderful!" said Jenny. Her dad made the best French Toast in all of Collinsport, Maine (and now, no doubt, also in all of U-City, Missouri.) "I can't wait to talk with mom! It's been almost a week! And I know that Ricky will want to hear her voice, too!"

Jenny went straight for the backyard and saw Corey sitting on the swing. He smiled the moment he saw her, got off the swing, and met her halfway across the yard. Jenny blinked. Corey had to be an inch taller than when she last saw him! The two friends stopped a few feet from each other. For a moment, Jenny thought that Corey was going to give her a hug. But even though he didn't, Jenny's smile did not waver. "Hi, Corey! It seems like years since I last saw you!"

"Ayuh, Jenny!" said Corey with a broad grin. "It seems that way to me, too!" Corey thought that Jenny was going to hug him when she ran up to him. Corey was ready for it, hoping for it. But when Jenny didn't, he stopped himself, holding his smile. Not now, but maybe later on, when he gave her what he brought, and asked her . . . .

"So, how's your new school, Corey?" said Jenny. "I guess you must have made lots of friends there by now."

"Some," said Corey wistfully. "But you know how it is when you're the new kid on the block and everybody else has known each other since kindergarten. I did make some "friends;" but only because when we played basketball in gym class my first day there, I got three baskets." Corey rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened to him at his new school if he was not so good at sports . . . .

"S-so how do you like it here, Jenny?" said Corey. "Your new home and school, I mean?"

Jenny shrugged a ten-year-old-girl's shrug. "Alright, I guess."

Corey nodded. "Those kids at your new school you told me about; Chris and Lori and the others. Are they giving you a hard time?"

"Not so much me. But they seem to be mostly concentrating on making Owen Flynn's life as bad as they can."

"Have you had any luck talking with Owen today?"

"Actually, I did," said Jenny brightening a little. "And you won't believe what happened!" Jenny told Corey about what just happened at school, from the time she left school grounds to chase after Owen to when her dad brought her home from school a few minutes earlier. And through it all, Corey listened wide-eyed, not even blinking once.

"You actually told Owen that you are a witch," said Corey; a statement, not a question. "What did your dad say when you told him that part?"

"Well, we will have to call the FBS and tell them. We'll be doing that when Owen comes over."

"W-when will that be?"

"He should be here any time now," said Jenny. "We invited him to come over and spend the night with us."

"Oh . . . ," said Corey softly.

"Dad and Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood want to talk with him before we call the FBS," said Jenny. "Can you believe it, Corey? Owen and his dad were actually inside the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms! They actually saw what was inside and made First Contact with them!"

"Yeah," said Corey without any enthusiasm. "Awesome . . . ."

"Corey, is everything alright?" said Jenny, sensing that something was not quite right with her friend. "Is something wrong . . . ?"

Corey looked down at his feet, and said, "Well, I . . . . It's just that I thought that it would be, you know, just you and me this weekend, Jenny."

"Corey, I . . . ." Jenny stopped in mid thought when she realized that the two of them were no longer alone in the backyard. Corey followed Jenny's stare, expecting to see Owen Flynn. Corey saw that there was another boy in the yard. But it was obviously not Owen. For one thing, this boy was older than a Fifth Grader; at least fourteen or fifteen. And for another, this boy was not a muggle; he was a wizard.

The newcomer had dirty blond hair and pale skin. He wore an Izod shirt and golf pants and carried a small briefcase. Despite the cold, he wore only an expensive looking sweater over his shirt. He looked at the two Elementary School kids in turn. "Jennifer Jordan," he said, nodding to Jenny. "And Corey Martindale . . . ."

The newcomer looked around, taking in the Jordan's backyard and the neighborhood that could be seen from it before saying, "Hmph, not very secure back here, is it, Jennifer. I guess your dad has to pay at the pump, these days, huh? What's it going for now; about a dollar a gallon? And your cars get, what, about thirteen miles per gallon without using the A/C and overinflating the tires? How do you even manage it? Living off the Shmoo, no doubt . . . ."

"What's it to you, kid?" snapped Jenny as fiercely as she could manage. "It's not coming out of your parent's pocket!"

"No, but if your father could practice magic openly, your family would want for nothing. A lot of our families would want for nothing. Then maybe your dad could even afford better wheels than your late-model Studebakers. My dad just traded in his '50 Cadillac for a '48 Tucker . . . ."

The older boy then made an exaggerated sniffing noise with his nose. "Man, how can the two of you even stand it here, coming from the Eastern Seaboard, and all? The air here smells funny without the ocean nearby." He jerked his thumb westward. "And that little river just doesn't cut it. Can't even swim in it anymore, like Tom and Becky did in Mark Twain's books, can you? At least, not without running the risk of getting cancer or developing superpowers; it's too polluted! The muggles have pretty much seen to that, haven't they?"

"Who are you, kid?" said Jenny impatiently. "And what do you want?"

"Oh, I guess that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kale Sanderson. My parents are Thaddeus and Moira Sanderson, of the Salem, Massachusetts Sandersons. Now do you two know who I am . . . ?"

Jenny blinked. The Sandersons of Salem, Massachusetts, were an old, one-time pureblood Wizarding family that were rumored to be involved in the Dark Arts and, more recently, in a Wizarding Supremacist group known as the Illuminated Brethren of the Ebon Night.

"Now, why are you here?" said Jenny, though she could guess why, especially after going through the mail for the past couple of days. "Salem wasn't ordered to evacuate – you're too far away from the Incursion for that."

"Yes, we did get lucky . . . ," said Kale sincerely. "We only lost our vacation home in Collinsport, but nobody was there at the time. And we have other vacation homes that we can use . . . .

"Now, as for why I am here, it's just to follow up on some literature that your dad," Kale nodded to Jenny, "and your mom," he nodded to Corey, "had been sent, recently. Are you aware that your parents have been given the supreme honor of being asked to join our organization for protecting the rights and safety of all magic users and their families?"

"Dad didn't mention it," said Jenny evenly. "Can't be much of an honor, then, can it?"

"Well, maybe you should ask him to actually read what we sent him," said Kale. "We know that your father threw the first two packets we sent him into the fireplace. But he has yet to do that to the one that he got today. Just ask him to look it over, and encourage him to join. Tell him that it would make you feel safer, if he does.

"And that goes for you, too, Corey. We have yet to hear from your mom, though I suppose that she has a good excuse, what with being preoccupied with setting up the "Fall Back" Wizards' Hospital Station, and all. In any case, it's best that they join before anything more happens and whoever came through from the Enchanted Realms makes their move."

"Oh, they'll be sorry if they do that, Kale!" said Jenny. "If whoever or whatever came over tries anything stupid, we'll all stop them, and I do mean all of us; wizards, muggles and mutants!"

"Don't be so naïve, Jennifer," said Kale dryly. "Do you really think that the muggles of this world will be so eager to work with us when they see that the invaders use magic? They are more likely to blame us for them being here! And if you think things are bad now, just wait until you've got a mob of crazed muggles at your door going after your dad's head!"

"Don't sell us muggles short, Kale," said Corey. "It's not the Seventeenth Century anymore."

"Try telling that to the mob that comes for your mom, Martindale," snapped Kale. "You really think that you and your dad can talk them out of hanging her when they find out that she is a witch? Or are you planning to try and fight them off? You know, even if you and your daddy are packin' shotguns or Uzis, you'd still be outnumbered and would just end up hanging right alongside of her!

"Mark my words, the only way to ensure your parents' safety – and your own safety, too, for that matter - is if we get organized and ready to make our own move before it's too late!"

"What kind of "move" are you talking about, Kale?" said Jenny.

"What else?" said Kale. "Our move to take control of this world from the muggles; who are even now ruining it to the point that they are threatening to destroy it! So, you see, this is not just for our own safety, but for their safety as well. We'll also protect the mutant muggles, too. They are kind of in the same position that we are – or rather, have been in - for the past six hundred years, or so. But to do this for the good of all mankind, we need to get properly organized. And getting Lawrence Jordan and Healer Rachel Martindale onboard will be a step in the right direction."

"Fine," said Jenny. "We'll talk to our parents. But don't be too surprised if they still don't join. Now, please leave us alone!"

"Is that what you plan to tell a mob of angry muggles when they try to kill you and your little brother and your daddy, Jennifer?" said Kale, his voice taking on a menacing edge. "Please leave us alone? Oh, yeah, that's going to work! Or are you going to try and hold them off with magic? Hey, let's see if you can hold me off!" Kale snapped his fingers, and said, "Locomotor Wibbly!" causing Jenny to shriek in surprise as she fell to the ground by Kale's Jelly-Legs Jinx.

Corey rushed Kale, trying to tackle the bigger boy and shove him to the ground. But Kale quickly overpowered the Sixth Grader, forcing him to his knees with his right arm twisted behind his back.

"Leave him alone, Kale!" said Jenny. "Dad! Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood! Help!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Jennifer," said Kale, applying more pressure to Corey's arm as the eleven-year-old winced in pain. "But the first thing that I did when I got here was to cast a Disillusionment Charm around the yard. Nobody can hear you! Besides, I'm not really going to hurt him! Not seriously, anyway. I'm not using any magic on Martindale, here, am I? When I fight a muggle, I play fair and use my fists, not my words, isn't that right, Corey?"

"H-hurting my arm . . . !" said Corey through clenched teeth. "Let go . . . !"

"So? Even if I do break it, mommy can fix it all up and make it all better, can't she?" taunted Kale. "Or maybe I should call a muggle ambulance when it snaps? I got one of those new cellular telephones with me in my briefcase that I am dying to use! The ambulance will take you to the local hospital's Emergency Room. With all those muggle witnesses, you'd have to wear a plaster cast for more than a month! And during hockey season, too! What a shame!"

But just as Kale began to apply more pressure, he found himself thrown away from Corey, sprawled out on his back. Corey crawled over to where Jenny had managed to get herself into a sitting position. Kale's Jelly-Legs Jinx had just about worn off. Though Corey's arm hurt really badly, he still managed to help Jenny to her feet. "Way to go, Jenny!" said Corey. "But we gotta get to your dad and the Lovegoods before Kale gets up!"

"I didn't do anything to Kale," said Jenny. "And I don't think we are going to need my dad or the Lovegoods, for now. Look . . . ." Jenny nodded to where Kale had landed and another boy was standing over him. This boy was a little younger than Kale; maybe twelve or thirteen. But he was almost a foot taller than Kale was. The new boy was dressed in faded jeans, work boots and a Chicago Cubs baseball jersey over which he wore an old duster jacket.

"Get up, Sanderson," said the new boy. "I didn't hex you that hard. I know better than to pick on those weaker and smaller than me. But that looks like a lesson that you still need to learn."

Kale scrambled to his feet, and said, "Hey, I don't want any trouble, Dresden! I just came here to deliver a message to the Jordans and the Martindales from my mom and dad, that's all."

"People who use broken bones to 'deliver a message' are looking for trouble, Sanderson." The boy looked over at Jenny and Corey. "Are you two alright? How about your arm, Corey? Want me to take you to see your mom?"

Corey rubbed his shoulder, and said, "No thanks, Harry. It's just sore. I think that Jenny's dad or the Lovegoods can fix me up, if I need it."

"Were you following me, Dresden?" said Kale, brushing off his sweater and pants.

"Actually, Corey's mom sent me," said Harry as he reached into the pocket of his duster. When his hand came out, he was holding a twenty and a ten. "Your mom and dad thought that it might be nice of you to treat the Jordans to a pizza your last night here as a way of thanking them for letting you stay for the weekend. There should also be some left in case you want to take Jenny on the train ride if you go to the zoo."

"Thanks, Harry," said Corey as he pocketed the money.

"For everything," added Jenny smiling.

"Don't mention it," said Harry nodding. He then went over to Kale Sanderson and said, "C'mon, I'll walk with you to the Floo Station. I'm going there, myself. We can talk about sports along the way. Now, since it is a foregone conclusion that the Cubs will beat the Sox out of the World's Series next year, we can talk about Quidditch, instead of baseball.

"So, how about those Sweetwater All-Stars? Do you think that they've got a chance against the Heidelberg Harriers this year for the Word Cup . . . ?"

Kale shot Jenny and Corey a "this isn't over," look before he left with Harry, who gave Kale an "oh yes, it is," look before they left through the gate in the Jordan's backyard.

"We'd better get inside, Corey," said Jenny. "Owen will be here, soon." Corey nodded and followed Jenny through the kitchen and into the living room to find Ren at the door. He was holding Ricky and speaking with Owen and his Uncle Sean.

Owen smiled when he saw Jenny. "Hi, Jenny! And you must be Corey! Jenny has told me a lot about you!"

Both Jenny and Corey said "Hi," back to Owen. But Jenny noticed something about the way Corey greeted Owen. Not with hostility, but not overly friendly, either; just polite. Not at all like the Corey that she knew; who was usually the first one to greet a new kid at school back in Collinsport and befriend them before introducing them to everyone else.

Owen's Uncle Sean gave Jenny and Corey a quick once-over, shook his head, and said, "I still don't like the idea of a boy/girl sleepover at their age. But you seem like good people; especially after Jenny went above and beyond the call of duty to make friends with Owen."

"When bedtime comes," reassured Ren. "Jenny will sleep in her room upstairs and the boys will sleep in the living room." Sean Flynn nodded. He loved and cared for Owen, but after the past few weeks, he was looking forward to getting some time-off, as it were.

When Owen's uncle left, Jenny saw the two boys engaging in minor, "small talk." Again, not hostile, but not overly friendly, either. Jenny was about to say something when the telephone rang. "I bet that's your mom, sweetheart," said Jenny's dad.

Jenny excused herself and ran to the telephone in the next room. Ren followed her, taking Ricky with him, leaving Owen and Corey alone in the living room.

Corey was about to say something, but Owen spoke first. "Jenny's told me a lot about you, Corey."

"Yeah?" said Corey.

"Yeah, Corey, but I gotta talk fast. Jenny could be back any minute now, so I don't have a lot of time to warn you."

Corey raised an eyebrow, "Warn me about what?"

"Well," said Owen. "Jenny is pretty neat, for a girl, that is. But she is a girl, and I get the idea that she doesn't just want you as a friend; she wants you for a boyfriend! So watch your back, man, or she might try to make you hold hands with her and kiss you and stuff . . . !"

When Jenny came back to the living room after speaking with her mom, she was startled to see Corey and Owen rolling on the floor fighting! She was about to try and break them up, when she noticed that they were giggling as they tried to punch each other gently in each other's arms. Even with the beating that Kale had just given Corey, he did not seem to mind.

"You need a booster cootie shot, Corey!" said Owen as he punched Corey's arm. "It's for your own good! We're living in the age of cooties, you know!"

"Well, you're here too, dude! So you'll also need one!" said Corey between giggles.

Jenny shook her head. Boys! She would never figure them out!

When the Lovegoods came into the living room to meet Owen, both he and Corey attempted to out-stare baby Luna, and both boys lost miserably. While the Lovegoods watched, Jenny and the boys played with her little brother as her father went to the kitchen to start dinner. A short time later, Ren called everyone to the dining room table for some of his famous French Toast.

Before Ren could say, "no running in the house," the three kids sprinted for the table and then, when they were reminded that they had to wash their hands before dinner, they all changed course for the downstairs bathroom without breaking stride.

Owen actually felt like a normal kid again, and very soon, G-d willing, he would be, now that he was with people who could actually help him.

The Jordans had gotten their first delivery of commodities from the Shmoo Preserve that morning. Since Ren knew that Corey was coming over later that afternoon (and since money was running short,) there was really no doubt what would be served for dinner. After the person from Southwestern Bell had finally arrived and finished hooking up the Jordans phone, Ren made a quick trip to the local grocery store. He bought a couple of loves of sliced bread, some store brand maple (flavored) syrup and some powdered sugar. That, and the eggs, milk and butter that had just been delivered courtesy of their friendly neighborhood shmoon would be all that he needed to make plenty of his famous French Toast for everyone. To round it out, the Lovegoods provided a fresh fruit salad.

When Ren had a full platter of French Toast and expertly scrambled eggs, he took out his wand and carefully levitated them out to the dining room table where everyone waited anxiously. Ricky squealed and laughed from his highchair when he saw the platters coming out of the kitchen in mid-air ahead of his father.

"Alright!" said Corey, who then turned to Owen and added, "Man, are you in for a treat, Owen! Mr. Jordan makes the best French Toast, ever!"

But while Owen was hungry, his main attention was on the plates hovering to the table like food-laden UFO's. When the plates landed softly, Owen took out his camera and took a few pictures of the French Toast and fluffy scrambled eggs.

"Now, why did you do that, Owen?" said Pandora Lovegood.

"It just looks so good!" replied Owen. "I wanted something to remember it by before we eat it and it's all gone! I'm even thinking about becoming a photographer that takes pictures of meals for restaurants' menus and food magazines when I grow up. Maybe even go into business for myself!"

The Jordans, the Lovegoods, Corey Martindale and Owen Flynn said a quick prayer of thanks then dug in with gusto. Owen had to admit that Mr. Jordan's French Toast was the best that he had ever eaten! Owen complimented Jenny's dad on the French Toast and the melt-in-your-mouth scrambled eggs. Having missed lunch, Jenny and Owen both had extra helpings. Ricky, of course, got as much on him as he got in him . . . .

As they ate, Jenny and Corey told everyone about their run-in with Kale Sanderson and how a boy named Harry Dresden came and saved the day. Then Owen told them what had happened to him and his father when they went camping in the woods in Maine; about what had happened to them in Storybrooke; and how Owen was able to escape, but that his father was still being held as a prisoner in Storybrooke by Mayor Regina Mills.

When they had finished eating, Owen said, "Mr. Jordan, did you use, you know, magic to make all this?"

"Only to get it out to the dining room, Owen," said Ren smiling broadly. "The rest was skill; skill I tell you! Though I should admit that you can count the foods that I can prepare well on one hand and still have a finger or two left over . . . ."

Owen nodded, and said, "So, Mr. Jordan, how many people in the world can do . . . magic? Not too many, I would think."

"Well, Owen, that's a tough one," said Ren as he paused to collect his thoughts. "I remember that the White Council – that's kind of like the Wizards' United Nations or something along those lines – took a census about ten years ago. They reckoned that there were anywhere from eight to nine million wizards and witches worldwide at that time. There are probably a little more than that, now; but it is kind of hard to say . . . ."

Xeno added, "It varies from country to country, Owen. Even from place to place within any given country's borders. There are places where wizards and witches keep a very low profile and others where they practise magic more or less openly among their muggle neighbors."

"Where is that, sir?"

"Oh, places like some rural areas of Romania, Hungary, Brazil, Haiti, Korea, and even here in the States and Canada with large populations of Native Americans and Canadian First Nations," said Xeno. "Though even in such places, we still try to hide in plain sight, as it were."

Ren said, "Most Bureaus and Ministries of Magic strictly enforce the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, Owen. In fact, most wizards and witches do not want their muggle neighbors to know that we exist." Ren shook his head and gave an ironic laugh. "And now, it seems that we have to hide from other wizards and witches, as well . . . ."

"The people in Storybrooke that I told you about," said Owen. "From the Enchanted Realms that appeared in Maine on October 22nd, you mean?"

Ren nodded. "Yeah . . . them . . . ." Ren waved his wand and a damp towel came floating from out of the kitchen. He then turned his attention to Ricky and said, "Time to get you cleaned off, champ . . . ."

"But if they are wizards and witches like you are, Mr. Jordan," said Owen. "Then why hide from them?"

"Because whatever else they may be," said Ren seriously as he wiped his son's messy face off with the damp towel as the boy giggled and squirmed. "They are invaders from another dimension who have come to Our World uninvited and have driven us from our homes. We're no happier that they are here than you or Corey would be if the invaders were muggles who used advanced space technology to come here, uninvited."

Dori looked down at Luna, asleep in her lap, and added, "We think that there is a good chance that they may be hostile."

"That Regina lady tried to keep us from leaving," said Owen nodding. "And she still has my dad as her prisoner . . . ."

Xeno shook his head. "Not exactly an argument for, "We come in peace," is it . . . ?" Xeno looked over to Dori and Luna and sighed.

"So what do we do now, dad?" said Jenny, maybe with a little too much enthusiasm. "We're gonna call the FBS so they can send the Aurors and Whitelighters into Storybrooke to rescue Owen's dad, right? And Owen is going to tell them what they need to know to do it!"

"But I don't know what I can tell them that would help," said Owen softly. "I mean, I told you everything about what happened. I don't know what more that I could tell the FBS that they could use to rescue my dad."

Ren said, "Well, you are going to do more than tell them, Owen – you are going to show them, as well."

"How?"

Ren jerked a thumb in the direction of the living room, and said, "You saw that large, stone bowl on a pedestal in our living room when you first came inside? You were probably wondering why we have a birdbath in our home, Owen. But it is actually something called a pensieve. It's a magical object that can be used to view another person's memories of something that they experienced, and in greater detail than the person is able to consciously remember if they were only able to tell them.

"It might help you to think of it as a kind of home movie projector for wizards. A viewer may actually watch a person's memory of an event play out in real time. And it includes details that a person would not think they had committed to memory, such as what bystanders were wearing or what kinds of cars were parked on the street as they walked by."

"Do all wizards own one, Mr. Jordan?" said Owen.

"No, they are quite expensive. I had rented this one from a store in Collinsport the evening of October 22nd just before the Incursion hit to use at Jenny's birthday party that we had planned for the next day. It was still in the trunk of my wife's car when we had to leave Collinsport. I'd be owing one heck of a late fee, but the store is currently closed, if you follow me . . . ."

Ren took out his wand and touched the tip to his temple. He then pulled it slowly away and Owen watched in amazement as a gossamer wisp of what looked like luminous smoke was drawn out. "This is my memory of going to the store to rent the pensieve, Owen. If you want to see it, all I have to do is fully draw it out and put it in the pensieve for you to watch. And when I say "watch," I don't mean like you would watch something on TV. You would actually view the memory "in the round," you might say. Kind of like a muggle hologram."

"But, what will happen to your memory of what you put in the pensieve, Sir?" said Owen. "Will you forget about it until you put it back in your, uh, mind . . . ?"

"Not at all," said Ren reassuringly. "I did not remove my memory, Owen; I copied it for others to see." Ren flicked his wand slightly and the wisp of glowing smoke receded back into his temple. "If I fully removed the copy from my mind, I could then store it in a small bottle that had been enchanted for that purpose, or just let it "boil off" into the ether. In any case, I won't forget what happened, and I can even make more copies, if I want to."

"Is that what the FBS is going to do to me, Mr. Jordan?"

"More than likely," Ren nodded. "Of course, they will need to ask you some questions to help you remember specific things that they want to view. You might think of that part as going to the index of a book to find something specific that you had read earlier and wanted to review, but forgot what page it was on."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not at all," said Ren. "Though it may take some time for them to get what they want. We may even have to go to the FBS Headquarters in Salem, Massachusetts, for a few hours before they are finished. But don't worry; we'll use magical means to go there and be back the same day."

"C-can you show me?" said Owen. "Before you call the FBS people?"

"Absolutely," said Ren. "Let's go."

When they got to the living room, Jenny said, "Let's show Owen one of my memories, dad, so he will know that it is safe!"

Jenny's dad nodded, and then touched his wand to his daughter's temple, drawing out a wisp of smoke like he did with himself at the table. But instead of letting it go back into her mind, Jenny's dad guided it into the pensieve. When he flicked his wand and let the memory fall into the bowl, it formed a shimmering surface that looked like water, but that somehow, Owen knew was something else entirely.

"Now we put our faces in and watch," said Jenny. "It's a little scary the first time you use one of these. But it doesn't hurt one bit."

Ren said, "What memory are you going to show Owen, Jenny?"

Jenny smiled. "That time I told you about at the beach last year, when Corey tried to show me and Karen what a good "surfer" he was."

"Oh, no, Jenny!" said Corey as he tried to suppress a grin. "Please, not that one!"

"Just put your face in the bowl when I do, Owen," said Jenny, ignoring Corey's protest.

"B-but won't we have to hold our breath, Jenny?" said Owen. "It looks like water or something."

"No, you just breathe normally; it may look like water, but it isn't. Just follow me." Jenny took Owen's hand. Owen winced. "It's OK," said Jenny sighing. "I promise that I don't have cooties! Owen nodded and he bent down to put his face in the bowl. As soon as he did, he felt himself falling, surrounded by wisps of smoke that seemed to "land" on an invisible floor. They then formed shapes that became a beach not too different from the Jersey Shore where Owen had gone every summer with his family a lifetime ago.

Standing on the beach next to Jenny, Owen saw two girls about nine building a sand castle while a boy about ten that Owen recognized as Corey was sitting on a surf board waving to them from the water. One of the girls looked like a younger Jenny and the other girl was of Asian ethnicity.

"Jenny!" yelled Corey from the surf board. "Jenny! Karen! Check this out! I'm gonna catch a wave! It's coming! Watch me!"

Owen had to smile as he watched Corey lie down on his board and paddle as the wave came from behind him. As he got moving, he tried to stand and slid off the board in a less-than-spectacular wipe-out. Then Corey swam to his board and paddled ashore, trying to look cool as he walked up to the giggling girls while carrying the too-big board.

"Please tell me that you guys didn't see that . . . ." said the memory of Corey, suddenly dropping his surfboard when he realized that his swim trunks were sliding down and he had to pull them up fast as Jenny and Karen laughed uncontrollably. Then the scene ended and Owen found himself alongside Jenny standing beside the pensieve.

Jenny giggled. "I'll never forget the look on Corey's face when he realized that he was about to lose his swimsuit! It looked too big for him, just like that surfboard that he was trying to use!" She smiled at Corey, whose face was red with embarrassment, but was also smiling, as well.

"But, do you still remember, Jenny?" said Owen.

"Sure, I'll never forget!"

"Even though your memory of what happened back then is in that bowl?"

"Remember what dad said, Owen. That's just a copy of what I remember from that day. It's no different from telling someone about it. But showing is always better than telling!"

"Not only that," said Jenny's dad. "But it helps you remember things that you may not remember consciously, since you see what you saw at the time."

"Yeah," said Jenny. "Like, I don't remember Corey being that skinny last year. But he must have been! And I could have sworn that his swim trunks were red and not blue like we just saw." Jenny laughed when she remembered how funny her friend looked that year; all the more so when he tried to act like a surfer dude after only one lesson. "And that sand castle that Karen and me had made wasn't nearly as big or as detailed as I had remembered it . . . ."

Jenny's dad waived his wand over the pensieve, drawing out his daughter's memory and guiding it into a glass phial that he then sealed with a cork. "We should send this home with Corey to the Martindales, Jenny. They'll probably get a big kick out of it." Corey just groaned. Ren then turned to Owen, and said, "Are you ready to give it a try?"

Owen nodded, and then Mr. Jordan drew a gossamer wisp of thought from Owen's temple with his wand and flicked it into the pensieve. "We're ready to go, Owen. Would you like me to come with you?"

Owen nodded. Jenny held her little brother as Mr. Jordan took Owen's hand and gave him a reassuring nod. Then they put their faces into the shimmering surface. Again, wisps of smoke came down with them. But this time, they solidified into a setting in rural Maine that Owen knew all too well. Two vehicles, a 4X4 and a police car also appeared, joined by two men, a woman, and a boy. Then the memory began to play out.

Owen found himself inside the nightmare that he had been having almost nightly since his dad was taken from him. But this time, he was a detached observer, and he was not alone. Holding hands with Mr. Jordan, Owen watched as Regina Mills, the Mayor of Storybrooke, ignored him and Jenny's dad and walked over to a second Owen Flynn; a memory of himself, who was standing just inside the Storybrooke town line.

"Owen. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," said Regina as she walked toward the Memory Owen.

"Why are you doing this?" said the Memory Owen, whose face was red from crying.

"I just want you to stay with me," said Regina. "You said that you liked it here. You want to stay here, don't you?" Regina put her hands on the Memory Owen's shoulders.

"Not like this . . . ," sobbed the Memory Owen.

"I-I'm sorry," said Regina, who looked like she was on the verge of crying, herself. "I just wanted us to be happy . . . ." Regina removed her hands from the Memory Owen's shoulders, setting him free.

And then Owen heard the last words that his father ever spoke to him: "Run, Owen!"

Owen felt Mr. Jordan tug at his hand and suddenly, they were back in the Jordan's living room. Jenny's dad looked somewhat shaken as he said, "Well, Owen, did the pensieve show what happened the way you remember it?" Owen nodded, trying to keep from crying. "It's alright, Owen. Nobody is going to laugh at you if you are sad, least of all us." Then Ren turned to the Lovegoods, and said, "Ah, Xeno, Dori, I think that the two of you need to take a look, also . . . ."

Dori handed Luna to Corey to hold as the Lovegoods used the pensieve. Then Ren turned to Owen and said, "I would like to call the FBS as soon as possible, Owen. Anytime you are ready."

Owen sniffled and nodded. He turned away abashed as Jenny and Corey looked at him. Corey said sincerely, "Hey, Owen, if something happened to my mom and dad, I'd cry, too."

"Me too," added Jenny. "So would any kid, and those that say they wouldn't are liars! And the sooner we call the FBS, the sooner they can do what they have to do to get your dad back!"

"Call them, now!" said Owen fiercely. "I'm ready! Now, it's Regina's turn to cry!"

When the Lovegoods were finished with the pensieve, Xeno said, "When are we calling the FBS, Ren?"

"Owen wants us to do it right now, Xeno."

"Good."

Dori said she would stay with the children as Xeno and Ren went to the telephone. She took Luna back from Corey, and held her daughter protectively, sitting down on the couch.

Jenny said, "Is everything alright, Mrs. Lovegood? What did you see in there?"

"Everything is just fine, children," said Dori softly. She motioned for Jenny, Ricky, Corey and Owen to come closer to her and Luna. "Don't worry, children. We adults have a . . . a concern. And we are going to bring this concern to the attention of whoever the FBS sends over, but don't worry children, everything will be alright . . . ."

"What do you think, Xeno?" whispered Ren. "It's HER, isn't it?"

"It is her, Ren, and no mistake!"

Ren said, "Mayor Regina Mills is the witch that we saw in the Professor's probe's footage! And she's here right now in Our World . . . !"

Xeno nodded silently as Ren nervously dialed the number that every American wizard and witch had committed to memory and hoped that they never had to actually use . . . .