Decisions which have to be made

Chapter 3: Doctor McAfferty

"Good morning, Harry," the woman said. "Doctor McAfferty would like to see you in his office."

She led Harry down a short corridor and knocked on a door.

"Enter," a soft Scottish accent said from inside.

Harry stepped inside. He was in an office with huge windows and a lit fireplace. Doctor McAfferty stood up from behind his desk and crushed Harry's hand as he shook it.

"Welcome to CHERUB campus, Harry," he greeted. "I'm Doctor Terrence McAfferty, the Chairman. Everybody calls me Mac. Have a seat."

Harry walked over to the fire and settled down in an armchair. So did Mac.

"We need to talk," the Chairman said.

"I know this sounds a bit stupid, but I don't remember coming here," Harry said after a moment of silence. "Is this some kind of place where children go when they don't have any talent?"

Mac smiled warmly. "Mr. Fulton, your headmaster, had put sleeping pills into the tea. When you woke up in the van you inhaled sleeping gas. You have a headache now, haven't you?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Well, to answer your question: No, this is not a place where children go if they don't have a talent, Harry. To be precise they come here because they have got a talent."

"But I don't! I don't have any talent, Dr. McAfferty."

"Believe me, you do. you're smart. It's a talent. Harry, don't waste it because people tell you it's not. It is the best talent anyone could ever hope to have."

Harry's mouth was open. If he had expected to hear something then this was the last. He had thought that Dr. McAfferty would send him back to St. Martha's, angry to have ever brought him here. Angry at Mr. Fulton to have given him a boy with no talent.

"W-what?"

"You have heard right," Mac said. "It is the best talent anyone could ever hope to have, and you are lucky enough to be one of the few people who do have this special talent."

"So... what is going to happen? What is this place?" Slowly Harry began to fully understand that all these years many people had told him lies. He had a talent. He did have a talent, only in a different form. He wasn't good at sports or art or music, but for that he was smart, and, like Mac had told him, it was the best talent someone could ever hope to have.

"This place - CHERUB - is there to train children to be spies. You are just the kind of child we are looking for, Harry."

"You try to build onto the fact hat adults would never suspect children to spy after them?"

"See, Harry? This is what I'm talking about. You're probably smarter than some other kids on campus.
"Anyway," Mac continued, "Until you're ten years old you will learn at least one other language here, get the best education you could get, and, on top of all, you will get physically stronger." He looked at Harry's stick-like arms and legs. "Believe me, once you're ready for basic training you'll have a lot more muscles than now.
"However, you do not have to become a CHERUB agent if you don't want to, Harry. We don't make you do it. You can pull out any time you're on missions, don't even go to a mission if you don't want to, and we can always find you a foster home if you don't want to be an agent any more. Any questions?"

"Can I go back to St. Martha's for a day or two to think about everything?" Harry asked.

"Of course you can," Mac said. "I will arrange everything. Do you want some tea?"


"Harry, Harry wake up!" Carl said, shaking Harry.

"Ohh," Harry groaned, clutching his head. All these drugs had given him a major headache. He should have known that there had been sleeping pills in the tea. Luckily he didn't get drugged again when he'd woken up in the van. Harry looked around. "I'm back at St. Martha's Children's Home? Seems like it had been a dream waking up at CHERUB -" He didn't finish the sentence an put his hand over his mouth, looking wide-eyed at Carl.

"No worries" Carl smiled. "I know everything. I'm a CHERUB agent myself."

"Phew." Harry sank back into his pillows, relieved.

"Kristen wants to talk to you. You've been gone for three days, and she wants to know where."

"What am I gonna tell her?"

"Just tell her that you visited a school in Scotland," Carl whispered, already hearing footsteps coming towards the door.

"You're awake, Harry?" Kristen asked, popping her head in. She sounded quiet angry.

"Yes..."

"Where did you go?" Kristen came into the room.

"A... a school in Scotland."

"And why weren't we informed?"

Harry thought quickly. "I don't know," he answered lamely. "But I myself didn't know anything about it... 3 days ago." Harry held his breath. He'd nearly forgotten how long he'd gone. What would have happened if he had?

"So... but why did we find you half-asleep in front of the door this morning at 4 a.m.?"

Harry looked helplessly at Carl, who shrugged uncaring in reply.

"Well," Harry began, beginning to swear. "I... the ride back from Scotland had been tired."

Carl smiled at him reassuringly.

"How on earth did you get from the train station here?" Kristen continued to question Harry.

"Kristen," Carl interrupted. "I think Harry needs some more sleep. It has been exhausting to go to Scotland, visit a school and come back, hardly getting any sleep." Kristen looked surprised at him. "At least that's what I imagine," he added.

"oh, well. I suppose I can question him later."

"So, when will we go?" Carl asked Harry once the home parent had gone.

"You'll go tomorrow at half-past two p.m.," Harry yawned. "I'm still not sure. If yes, then I'll come with you. If not then not." After he got some more sleep he'd talk thoroughly with Carl about everything.


A/N: Someone told me a week ago the same thing that Mac told Harry in this chap, so I thought it would give Harry a bit to think if someone told him that he had a talent (the only different thing was that I had been told not to waste this talent on boys).