Anthony sat in Arithmancy class, still thinking about Diana's kiss and the concert a week before.

"And what would 5 factorial be?" Professor Vector was saying. "Anthony?"

Anthony jerked his head up and looked at the board, where a large "5! = ?" was written. He thought for a quick second. "120?"

Professor Vector smiled. "All right," she conceded. "Factorials show us the exponential possibilities but can also show us what might have led to an event. For example: you chose to come to this class today. But you could have skipped it. That's a branch." She draws two lines in the air with her wand, drawing more as she talks. "Because of skipping class, maybe you meet a teacher who gives you detention. In that detention, you might get a sore arm and suffer in Quidditch practice. Endless possibilities, endless branches. One thing leading to another. When we use factorials, we narrow down those possibilities and attempt to see different branches, what could be. Your assignment tonight is to write two branches of a choice using factorials. Perhaps you could use your date to the Yule Ball as a starting point."

The students giggled nervously, then got up to leave. The Yule Ball had just been announced and even though it was a month away, the students were already talking about who they would invite and what they would wear.

"Anthony, a moment," Professor Vector called.

Anthony nervously approached. "I'm sorry for not paying attention-" he started.

"No, no, you're lucky you're so good at math," she said. "I want to talk about your band."

Anthony gulped. Was she going to tell him off?

"I heard about your concert. I'm a chair of the Yule Ball this year and I wanted to see if you and your friends wanted to open for the band we're hiring, The Freed Elves."

"The Freed Elves are playing? Here? And you want us to play too?" asked Anthony, his eyes wide.

"Think about it and get back to me soon," said Professor Vector.

As Anthony ran to his next class, he saw Diana on the way to Care of Magical Creatures. He stopped and walked with her.

"Are you ok?" Diana said. "You're all out of breath!"

"We just got asked to open at the Yule Ball," he said.

"That's amazing!" replied Diana. "Which songs are you going to do? You should do Heart of a Gorgon, that's really popular right now! And it's one of my favorites. You got the heart of a gorgon, it's made out of stone."

"Maybe," said Anthony. "We'll think about it."

"Ooh! And you should coordinate outfits, I'll help with that. If this goes well, I can be your manager!"

They arrived at the paddock together, where a gigantic man with a beard was bringing out a cage full of small creatures to the teacher.

"I'd better go, I'm going to be late!" said Anthony. His Muggle Studies class was just around the corner and he had plenty of time, but he had been starting to feel that same tightness in his chest when his parents had taken him to get a butterbeer years ago. He sunk into his chair in Muggle Studies, catching his breath just as Professor Makellos was getting started.

"Good morning class," he said in a clipped voice as sharp as his features. He had blonde hair cut short. He adjusted his glasses as he continued. "Today we will discuss some things that Muggles have invented since they cannot use spells. We will compare the spell to the invention and decide which is superior." He picked up his wand and projected images onto the board.

"Now, who can tell me what this is?"

Several students raised their hands. "Yes. Smith."

"It's a car," the Gryffindor said. "Specifically, a 1967 Ford Anglia."

"Good," said Professor Makellos. "You, of course, would know all about them. They are used by Muggles to travel. They require smelly fuel called petrol in order to run. They also break down and must be repaired by an expert who can charge a lot of money. They put a lot of smelly smoke into the air and are responsible for the deaths of many people. It can take a long time to get to your destination.

Now, who can tell me how wizards travel? Yes, Ms. Nutter?"

"Floo powder, Apparition, and walking," Agnes Nutter recited.

"20 points to Slytherin," Makellos said approvingly. "And can you tell me their benefits?"

"They're both instant," said Agnes. "Floo powder is useful when you can't Apparate yet."

"Wunderbar," said Makellos. "Another 20 points to Slytherin. Let's keep going."

Anthony sat in silence as Makellos flipped past objects he had come to know and love through Bertram. So far they had studied history and sure, Muggles were violent, but wizards had their wars, too. His musings were interrupted when Makellos stopped on a picture of a long metal tube with a handle at the bottom.

"As you may know," Makellos continued, "there are 3 unforgivable curses. The Killing Curse, the Pain Curse, and the Imperius curse, which takes over the victim's mind. The use of these curses lands any wizard who uses it in Azkaban."

He pointed to the image on the board. "This is a gun," he said. "When this trigger is pulled, the target can be hurt or killed. Any Muggle, especially those in America, can use one. Here is a picture of a child being taught how to use one as a toy. Yet they are not sent to prison. In fact, it is glorified." He switched to a picture of a man with an eyepatch sitting on a horse, waving a long gun in one hand and smiling. The caption read John Wayne.

"Your assignment tonight," continued Professor Makellos, "is to choose a Muggle invention and compare it to one of our spells. You may use one I talked about today, but you will get extra points for finding a different one. Class dismissed."

Anthony caught up to Bertram during lunch.

"Anthony, are you ok?" Bertram asked. "You look as white as Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I have to talk to you," said Anthony. He told him all that had happened during Muggle studies. "And he said Muggles use guns to kill people!" he finished.

Bertram frowned. "You've met my family," he said. "You've been to my house. Did they seem like bad people?"

"No," replied Anthony.

"Do we own a gun?" Bertram continued.

"No," said Anthony, relaxing a little.

"British Muggles have strict gun laws," Bertram said. "Even our police officers don't carry them. America is different, but I hear their people are being sent to war and the country is protesting. There's still hope. There's always hope. This professor sounds a little batty if you ask me."

Anthony smiled. "Thanks, Bertram. I've liked it so far, it's just one assignment. Maybe you can help me with it?"

"Sure thing," Bertram said.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" said Anthony suddenly, "Professor Vector wants us to play the Yule Ball."

"What!" said Bertram, his fork clattering loudly on his plate as he dropped it. "Why didn't you lead with that!"

"Sorry, the class had me rattled. Anyway, we're only opening. The Freed Elves are playing most of it."

Bertram spat out his juice and wiped it from the front of his robes. He stared at Anthony. "The Freed Elves? We're opening for the Freed Elves? Oh, what are we going to play? You don't have drums!" He trailed off and started frantically ticking things off on his fingers, muttering to himself.

"Bertram. Bertram! Snap out of it!" Anthony said, snapping his fingers in front of Bertram's face. "We'll get it figured out. How much money did we get from our concert?"

"Almost 3 Galleons," beamed Bertram. "I've been meaning it pass it round to the three of us."

"With my pocket money, I'll almost have enough to buy those drums," said Anthony. I'm just a couple of Sickles short."

"I can lend it to you," said Bertram.

"That's all right," said Anthony. "Maybe we can talk him down. When's the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"They haven't announced it yet," said Bertram. "We can see if Xeno knows, he knows everything."

After their final class, the boys huddled around the record player. Mac had chosen the music today. An empty T-Rex album sleeve perched on top of a David Bowie album. A bright blue and red disc revolved on the record player.

Jitterbug love is going all around now

Here it comes again

We`ll rock and roll together

We`ll even stroll together

"That would be a good one for the Yule Ball," Bertram told Anthony.

"The Yule Ball?" asked Mac.

His eyes widened as Bertram and Anthony filled him in.

"And you're just tellin' me this now! There's so much ta do! We needed a setlist! We need outfits. You need a drum kit. We should already be rehearsing and there's so much homework!"

"Mac. Calm down," Anthony said. "It will be fine, we know lots of songs already. And as for my drum kit, we're going to ask Xeno when the next Hogsmeade weekend is so I can buy one with the money from the concert."

Mac took a breath. "Ok. Let's go ask Xeno."

Xenophilius was feverishly scribbling in a corner, muttering to himself. He held up one hand as the boys approached while writing with the other, then put both hands on the sides of his head as he looked over what he'd written.

"Hello, you three," he said by way of greeting.

"Hi," said Anthony. "We were wondering if you heard when the next Hogsmeade weekend will be."

"After the Yule Ball, just before break," he said distractedly. "Sorry, there's some big news breaking and I don't know if even I believe it."

"What is it?" asked Mac. In response, Xeno turned his writing to face them. Among all the scribbles and crossed out phrases, they were able to make out two words: Death Eaters.

"Death Eaters?" asked Bertram. "Are those like the wrackspurts?"

But Anthony gasped and put his hand to his head. He had a sudden memory of being in a basement, pointing a finger at [look up name], a brief flash of an image of a snake. Eaten by death.

"Are you all right?" Xeno asked, concerned.

"He does that sometimes, stares off into space," shrugged Bertram.

"They're real," croaked Anthony. "I have to go."

He ran out of the common room into the nearest bathroom, his head swimming. So far, his visions had just been little things. The drum kit made out of armor, a lost library book, a band. Never anything major. Back when he'd said those things to [name], he didn't really believe them. But now it was coming true. This was big. What did it mean? The door opened and he heard voices calling his name. Bertram and Mac. Would they even believe him if they knew?

"In here," he said. He didn't want them to worry after all.

"What happened?" asked Mac. "Was it about You Know Who's followers? The Death Eaters?"

You-Know-Who's followers. Death Eaters. That made sense.

He gulped breaths of air as he forced himself to calm down, to think. He tried a meditation exercise and his friends' faces came into his mind, worried and supportive. All they'd been through together.

He opened up the stall door. "Lads," he said. "I have to tell you something."

They sat in Mac's room in stunned silence. Mac was the first one to break the silence.

"Groovy!" he shouted excitedly. "Is that how you knew about the hole in the wall? I thought you said in Divination last year that you don't have the Sight. Can you control it? Have you seen us in the future?"

"When you said the band wouldn't break up," Bertram said. "You knew."

"I've had a few dreams about it," said Anthony. "But Professor Vector says there are many different branches of the future, different possibilities. So even if I see something, it might not come true."

"So [name] might not become a Death Eater after all," said Bertram. "He's too quiet anyway, just keeps to himself."

"So it might be all right," said Mac. "Let's work on the setlist."

"I have homework," said Anthony. "I'd better go work on it." As he got up to leave, Mac said "He really must be feelin' out-a-sorts."

When Anthony got back to his room, he pulled out his Arithmancy book and looked up the chapter on factorials. He spread out a parchment and drew two lines, labeling them "[name] becomes a Death Eater" and [name] doesn't become a Death Eater. He imagined different possibilities, mapping them out. If he doesn't become a Death Eater, his visions aren't true. Just coincidences. The rumors Xeno heard are false.

He mapped out the other side. His visions are true, his friends will be in a band. The Death Eaters are real and You Know Who will grow more powerful. He stopped there, not even wanting to think about that. He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and focused instead on the band. This one was easier and more fun. Before he knew it, he had a page full of possibilities. As he wrote 7! at the top of his page, he realized he hasn't included Diana in any of them. He shrugged, deciding to think on it later. When he went to bed, he dreamed of drum kits, King's Rd, and a Hogsmeade empty of students.

His dream was in the back of his mind all the next day until he sat down with Mac and Bertram to talk about the setlist.

"Love Potion No.9 is a must," said Bertram.

"And we have to have the Goo Goo Muck!" added Mac. "But we need a good love ballad."

"You and your weird music," said Bertram, shaking his head as he wrote it down.

"Reign O'er Me by the Who?" suggested Anthony.

"Not bad," said Mac. Any ideas about your drum kit yet?"

"Actually yes," said Anthony. "I had a dream last night and I think I'm going to have to sneak out to Hogsmeade before the Yule Ball. But I might need you as lookouts. If Filch catches me.."

"I've heard he can't use the rack any more since Dumbledore," said Mac. "But we're your guys. When are you thinking?"

"Tomorrow right after class," said Anthony. "So we won't be missed."

The next day, Anthony could concentrate even less than usual until he met his friends by the mirror. They had planned out the whole thing. Bertram would be lookout for Filch or a teacher, while Mac would go with him to help carry the drums.

"I'm ready," said Anthony.

"One more thing," said Bertram. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of multicolored rectangles with the Queen's face and numbers on them. "This is the pocket money I've been saving," he told Anthony. "You give me your money and I'll give you this. There's about 25 pounds here. I won't even charge an exchange rate!"

"Wow, thanks!" said Anthony.

"You're welcome," said Bertram. "Just try not to look confused when you use it. The numbers on the top tell you how much each is worth."

"I'm ready," said Mac. "Let's go!"

They turned to the mirror and quickly said "Thank you" before it could say anything helpfully derogatory and it opened.

When they got to the shop, Anthony noticed the drums they had were gone, but there was another good set. Unfortunately, the price tag said £30.

"Now what?" asked Anthony.

"We could try haggling," said Mac.

"Oh I've heard of that," said Anthony. "Let's try it."

They walked up to the counter, where a heavily tattooed and pierced man with a pink mohawk stood behind the counter, reading Rolling Stone. "Yeah?" he said, not looking up.

"We'd like to buy that drum kit," said Anthony.

"30 pounds," the man said, bored.

"Um, well, how about we give you 20 instead?" fumbled Anthony.

The man gave him an appraising look over the magazine and his expression turned to one that looked like he'd just seen a wet dog trot into his shop. "30 pounds," he said.

"25," said Mac.

"Look kid, either give me 30 or get out and stop wasting my time."

"I can play!" Anthony said suddenly. "If I prove that I can play, will you give it to us for 25?"

The man smirked. "Yeah, sure, I got nothin else to do. But be careful with that kit, you break it, you bought it."

Anthony went over to the drum kit and played a slow rhythm. He gradually sped up, adding more notes in between and making the rhythm more complicated. He threw in a quick drum riff from Pinball Wizard before giving a final flourish.

The man stared at him, dumbfounded. "25," he said, "and I'll throw in the card to a place down the street, they take lotsa new bands. Good luck to you."

"Thanks!" said Mac. "Um, can we have a bag?"

Anthony and Mac carried the drums to a back alley, where they shrunk it enough to fit into the bag and get back to Bertram, who they found looking distressed.

"What happened?" they asked him.
"Bloody mirror's cursed," he said. "Why does it care what color my hair is? And how will I find a date to the Yule Ball with this pimple on my face?"

"You look great," they reassured him as they led him away from the mirror. "And you'll find a date, no problem."

"Did I hear Yule Ball?" a cheery voice asked them. Diana suddenly appeared from around the corner. "I haven't been asked yet, I hope I get asked soon." She looked hopefully at Anthony. "I've been thinking about your outfits and I have some great ideas. Here, I'll show them to you." She pulled out some sketches from her bag. "The white dots are spangles. And there's a banshee on the back, see? The linings change colors, I already have some fabric that can do it."

The trio looked at the drawings, then back at her, wide-eyed.

"I knew you'd love it!" she said. "I'll start working on them right away."

"Um, Diana, can I talk to you in private?" said Anthony. "Just go on without me," he told Mac and Bertram. "I'll meet you in the common room."

As Anthony led Diana into a nearby empty classroom, the boys walked away just enough to stay in earshot. They heard muffled voices that started out calm, with one of them getting faster and more frantic. A low voice answered it, then they heard a loud, high-pitched keening wail and Diana ran out of the room, sobbing.

Anthony came out of the room looking like he'd just fought a boggart. In response to Bertram and Mac's questioning looks, he said simply, "I broke up with her. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Soon, posters began appearing all over the school, almost as fast as the teachers could take them down.

CANCEL SCREAMING BANSHEES ROCK BAND

MUDBLOODS GO HOME

SAY "NO" TO LETTING THEM PLAY AT THE YULE BALL

Professor Vector was not impressed. "What did you do?" she asked Anthony.

"I broke up with this girl Diana," said Anthony. "I didn't think she'd react like this. Can we still play?"

"There's a lot of negativity surrounding this," replied Vector. "We can give this Diana detention, but the damage has been done. I'm sorry, you can't play for the Yule Ball."

"What if we change our name?" said Anthony.

"I think people will figure it out," said Vector. "I'm sorry, there's simply nothing I can do. You are still able to attend, of course. But you'd better hurry, it's only two weeks away."

Anthony walked away from class, dejected.

As the Yule Ball drew closer, the trio barely practiced. Anthony developed a habit of disappearing into the library. He said it was homework, but Bertram and Mac knew better.

They weren't the only ones in a sour mood. A cloud seemed to hover over the entire school. Rumors that Death Eaters were targeting Muggle-borns and half-bloods circulated wildly through the school and several students were found missing. Some had been pulled out by their parents, while others were simply gone. Even though Diana had been punished, other posters appeared using the Mudblood slur. Slytherin and other pure-blood students had grown bolder as well, bullying anyone they could see. Crabbe and Goyle especially were known to curse anyone they saw. The teachers could barely keep a handle on everyone and Peeves, feeding on the emotions, joined in with his own chaos. James and his crew managed to step in for Bertram and Mac a couple of times until they were largely left alone. The name "You-Know-Who" was on everyone's lips, whether in fear or pride.

The morning of the Yule Ball was dark and stormy, lightning shattering the sky at regular intervals. Dumbledore called a special assembly at breakfast.

"There have been disturbing events happening in this school," he said. "I had hope that your better natures would win out in the end but alas, it has not been. Prejudice and chaos has reigned where peace and togetherness should be kings. Your parents might have told you stories of Grindelwald, who sought to hold wizards above everyone else. You have heard news of Voldemort and his followers the Death Eaters, who now seek to finish what Grindelwald could not. Let me assure you. Grindelwald is safely in Azkaban. I have no doubt that Voldemort and his followers will end up there as well. Where there is love, fear can have no foothold. Where there is tolerance, hate has no home. American Muggles are encouraging peace. I urge you as a student body to do the same. Let the Yule Ball tonight be a place of love, tolerance, and peace. Let it be a new beginning for the new year."

He sat down and the students murmured among each other. Many of the Slytherins stared daggers at him, but said nothing when Slughorn shook his head at them.

The day was a little quieter as the students were more subdued. That evening, Anthony, Bertram, and Mac got into their dress robes.

"Where's your date?" Anthony asked Bertram.

"None of the girls interested me," said Bertram. "Did Mac find one?"

"I don't think so," said Anthony. "He's been focused on his music too much to look."

"That's all right," said Bertram, "we'll have fun together."

As they walked towards the Great Hall, it looked to them like every student had paired off.

"Will wonders never cease?" said Mac as he approached them. "You two actually cleaned up nice! And look over there, Crabbe and Goyle managed to find someone to tolerate them! Look at all these decorations, who did all them, d'you think? It takes ages to decorate at our house."

They stared at the twinkling fairy lights, wreaths, and holly covering just about every available surface. Diana walked by, arm in arm with a boy, and gave Anthony a superior look as she passed.

Most of the tables had been cleared out of the Great Hall, which had a large stage added at one end. The tables which remained were covered in sparkly fabrics, food, and punch.

"Wow," breathed the boys.

"Oh look, the curtain's movin', I think the Freed Elves are about to start," said Mac.

The large blue curtain on the stage was opening. The crowd gasped as one as instead of a band, they saw words painted on the wall:

MUDBLOODS GO HOME