The rest of the school year felt like a bad dream. Several more students were pulled out or disappeared altogether, including Crabbe and Goyle. The teachers mostly managed to stop the bullying, although there were isolated incidents here and there. Bertram in particular was targeted several times when James wasn't around; it seemed they'd gotten braver again since the dance.

Mac and Anthony were playing around in the practice room, with Anthony on his new drum kit.

"Echo and the Wolfmen," said Anthony.

"Nah," replied Mac. "How about Bowling for Butterbeer?"

"BröomHead," Bertram said as he came into the space, clutching his hand.

"Bertram! What happened to your hand?" Anthony exclaimed.

"One of the Slytherins cursed it and made it tremble uncontrollably," he said. "It's finally back to normal."

"This is gettin' bad," said Mac. "Why don' the teachers do summat? What are they doin' all day?"

"They caught him and gave him detention," said Bertram. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. Let's just enjoy the holidays!"

They went off to pack and say goodbye to each other.

The students returned from the holidays to a thick blanket of snow covering the grounds. This along with the holidays seemed to wipe away the nastiness of the last year, allowing the students to start fresh. Bullying slowed down, apologies were made, and the Yule Ball incident was all but forgotten as the school slowly returned to normal. All of Anthony's teachers made sure to warn them of the upcoming NEWTS in fifth year. They worked harder than they ever had in preparation for this year's exams.

"It is time for you to start thinking about you'll want to do when you exit school," said Professor Vector. "Next year, as you know, is your NEWT year and I'm afraid no amount of Arithmancy can give you the answers."

The class chuckled as she continued, "Your NEWTs will determine which classes you'll be able to take in the following years. Start thinking now, start developing good study habits now so you'll be prepared. Now, on to our main lesson on fractals."

Anthony tried to listen as she explained repeating patterns branching off of each other and examining snowflakes that were enchanted not to melt. But his mind kept going back to what she had said in the beginning about NEWTs.

"We're only fourth-years," he complained to Mac and Bertram later as he put on The Rolling Stones. "How are we supposed to know what we're going to do for the rest of our lives?"

"My dad wants me to be an accountant like him," said Bertram, picking up a cookie from a large stack he held and taking a bite. "He reckons it's nice and safe, no magic involved at all."

"An accountant…" Mac mumbled, almost to himself. "And Anthony, your dad works for the bank. You think he would want you to work in the bank, too?"

"I suppose," Anthony said, taking one of Bertram's cookies. "But I definitely don't want to do that, so if that's what you're thinking--"

"No no," said Mac, shaking his head. "That's it. That's our name. The Accountants. Your parents want you to be accountants, and to take account kind of means to tell a story, which is what we do."

"Or keep people accountable," Bertram broke in, spraying crumbs. "For their own actions, standing up against evil!"

"I like it!" said Anthony. "We are The Accountants!" he yelled, to a confused smattering of applause from the other students in the common room.

But they didn't get to practice much the rest of the year. Bertram and Mac were too busy with homework most days. Anthony flipped through his books, copying down enough information not to fail, and attempting to cast some spells that always fizzled out or failed altogether. He took to wandering the halls so much that Filch grew suspicious.

"What are you doin' out here? Shouldn't you be studyin'?" Filch asked.

"Just taking a walk," Anthony responded.

"Hmph. Up to no good, I wager. You're lucky Dumbledore's here now. A good hour in the chokey usually gets kids talkin'. Got the idea from my good friend Agatha. Those were the days," he added wistfully.

"Um. Can I go?" asked Anthony.

Mr. Finch dismissed him with a surly wave of the hand and Anthony suddenly realized he was near the Room of Requirement.

A moment later he was entering the practice room and soon after, practicing some drum riffs. He absorbed himself in the music, his mind going blank, and all else faded.

Shadows leapt up from the wall, raised their wands, and dangled someone upside down in the air.

"I'm a wizard," the person was saying. "I went to Hogwarts, I was sorted!"

More shouts and screams. A cold, high-pitched laugh as someone begged, "Please, how is this happening? What is this? We never hurt anyone!"

A poster next to a large pumpkin in the halls of Hogwarts: "All Hogsmeade trips cancelled until further notice."

Anthony stopped drumming and jerked his head up, breathing hard. He started to run out the door and crashed into Bertram and Mac, who had been laughing and coming into the room.

"There you are," said Mac. "When you weren't in the common rooms, we figured we'd look for you here and here you are! Whoa, did summat happen? You look white as a ghost!"

Bertram put a hand on Anthony's shoulder, steadying him.

Anthony gulped, still breathing hard. "You know those visions I told you about? I just had one."

"What was it?" asked Mac. "Did you see us? Are we goin' ta be famous?"

Bertram shushed him and Anthony shook his head.

"It's bad," he said. "What we saw at the Yule Ball will only be the beginning. I don't understand a lot of it, but there was a pumpkin and I heard a weird laugh. I can't be sure but I think by next Halloween, Muggles won't be safe anymore."

Bertram frowned. "I wonder if you heard You-Know-Who," said Bertram. "Or the Death Eaters that Xeno talked about."

"They were doing horrible things," Anthony shuddered. "And I don't think we're strong enough to fight them."

They stood in stunned silence for several seconds.

"Well," said Mac. "At least we have each other. And we have time, you said Halloween, right? That still gives us the summer. We can still hang out at Bertram's, right, mate? See if we can catch some more bands?"

"Mac and I know enough magic for all of us," Bertram added. "But we won't fight with wands. We'll keep fighting with music."

Anthony clapped them both on the back. "You're right," he said. "And there has been something I've been working on. Since that whole thing with the Yule Ball last year, I've been working on a song about trusting the wrong people."

"That's why you were in the library!" said Bertram. "All right, let's try it."

The boys practiced into the night and snuck down into their dorms, carefully avoiding the prefects and teachers along the way.

Finally, the end of term came. To his surprise, Anthony just managed to scrape by with passing grades. But that didn't stop his parents from making him stay in his room practicing for what seemed like every spare moment.

"If you want to be successful like me," his father said, "You must learn your spells."

"Magic is needed to survive in the wizarding world," added his mother.

"What if I go live with the Muggles?" said Anthony petulantly.

His mother gasped and his father said, "Don't even joke about something like that! You're a wizard, and wizards stay with wizards. Your mother and I can trace our lineage back for a century."

"All right, all right," Anthony grumbled. "I get it. Can I go to my room now? And practice?"

"Of course. Dinner is in 2 hours," replied his mother.

Anthony stomped up to his room and let the door close a little harder than normal, not exactly slamming it. There were two letters waiting for him.

Dear Anthony,

Mum and Dad say you can come over again this summer! Write me back and let me know when.

Cheers,

Bertram

Excitedly, he opened the other one.

Dear Bertram and Anthony,

Mum and Dad say I can't go anywhere this summer. Mum said she heard that the Ministry will be enforcing a curfew soon so things must be gettin dangerous. I really wish I could go and maybe I could work something out just let me know when your planning on going and I'll see.

--Mac

Anthony wrote back.

Dear Bertram and Mac,

It's all right if Mac can't go anywhere. Maybe we could go to his house. We'll find a way to spend the summer together.

Sincerely,

Anthony

It wasn't long before he got another letter from Bertram.

Dear Anthony and Mac,

Just sneak out, Mac! Tell them you're going to banking camp or something. Your dad'll love that. If what Anthony says is true, who knows what the world will be like after this summer? This might be our last one.

Cheers,

Bertram

In reply, Anthony wrote:

Dear Bertram and Mac,

Mac, don't get yourself in trouble just for us. I don't really know what I saw. It might be nothing.

Sincerely,

Anthony

But not long after he'd sent it, he got another owl from Mac.

Dear Bertram and Anthony,

Banking camp, that's a brilliant idea! I'll go tell him I'm learning to be an accountant, that's kind of the truth anyway. I can't wait to see you guys again and go back to King's Rd, d'you think we'll be able to see some more concerts? And I have some Muggle pocket money to spend. This is going to be wicked! I wish there was a better way to communicate, though, my hand is cramping up.

--Mac

Anthony shook his head and smiled. Over a series of letters, they agreed on a date to meet at Hogsmeade, which Anthony excitedly told his parents about.

"Absolutely not," said his father.

"My friends say You Know Who is trying to recruit," said his mother. "And there's talk of him using the Imperius Curse. It's safer to have you home until you go back to Hogwarts."

"That's not fair!" yelled Anthony. "I never get to do anything!"

"You can't do anything if you're dead!" shot back his father. "Your mother and I give you a roof over your head and food on the table. You should be grateful."

"I'll be grateful when I'm on my own!" replied Anthony.

"Go to your room," his mother said in a dangerously low voice. "And I'd better hear you practicing your spells."

Anthony stomped up to his room and put on a record. His parents heard muffled shouting and drums through his door and looked at each other worriedly.

"He's a teenager now," said his father. "We'll have to expect a little rebellion. We just need to stand firm."

"I hope you're right," said Muriel.

For the next two weeks, things were tense between Anthony and his parents. They tried to talk to him, but were met with sullen, one-word responses. Meanwhile, his father was more strict with him than ever.

"Maybe we should apologize for yelling at him," said Muriel one day.

"Him first," replied his father. "We have to put our foot down or he'll run all over us."

The date that Anthony had his friends agreed on had arrived.

In the morning, his parents found a note.

Gone to Bertram's. I'll let you know when I'm safe.

Love, Anthony