Hawkeye Hooch glared at us with those weird eyes of hers.
'Has anyone of you lot flown before?' she demanded.
'I've flown in an aeroplane,' squeaked Brocklebank.
'On a broom,' said Hooch and Brocklebank dissolved in a cringing heap of embarrassment. Rather her than me, I thought, because I had flown in an aeroplane too and it might have been me that spoke up.
Boot put his hand up nervously. 'I've learned a bit on a Tutorus,' he said.
'Of course he has,' muttered Goldstein.
'Okay, so you know which end to hold, but I'm not talking about trainer brooms,' said Hooch. 'No-one? Good. Right. I don't want any repeats of this morning's shenanigans. Stand by your brooms. Hold your hands out and say "Up."'
It was a massive relief when my trusty steed rose smoothly to my hand. This was the big problem with being taught magic: it is very practical. It is so easy to fail, and when you fail it is very public. There's one thing learning about a spell from a book. It's very different having to perform the spell in a classroom, or wherever, when everyone can see you messing it up.
'Now, anyone who has ridden a bicycle should be able to ride a broom,' said Hooch.
That was quite reassuring, but when I swung my leg over the broom and rested my bum on the stick, it was more like riding a skateboard. Very top heavy.
Back home, there was a constant tension between my mum, who was a witch and my dad who was an academic, an economist, who was uncomfortable with too much magic around. So I knew about broomsticks in theory, but this was the first time I had ever even seen one in real life. On the other hand, I could ride a bike and had loved my skateboard. When I bestrode the broom, as Hooch put it, and kicked off I rose all of six inches and it felt very like a skateboard. More stable than a stationary bicycle.
Six inches was quite enough for me. Boot knew what he was doing, obviously, and rose six feet. But Muybridge rose a couple of feet, slowly rotated till he was upside down, came down, and landed on his head. Quite gently, but enough to worry Hooch. Several people never got off the ground so Hooch spent most of her time fussing over Muybridge.
'What happened this morning?' I muttered to Goldstein, who was next to me on one side.
'Just Potter and some Slither messing around,' said Boot who was on my other side. He always knew everything. 'Apparently another Griff got hurt but Potter got into deep do-dos.'
'What he said,' said Goldstein.
'Less talking, more flying,' said Hooch. 'You need to know the basics if you are going to play Quidditch.'
'Do I want to play Quidditch?' said Goldstein. 'I've survived okay without it so far.'
'You need to play it to understand it,' said Boot. 'It' so complicated that only people who have played it, or been close to someone who plays it, can have a hope of understanding it.'
'Sounds like cricket,' I said.
It was at that precise moment that I understood the difference between wizarding types and non-wizarding types. The non-wizarding types nodded in agreement. The wizarding types stared at me as though I had grown an extra head.
'What is cricket?' said Boot.
'Muggle game,' said Muybridge, who was sporting a bandage like a white bandana. 'It involves hitting a ball.'
'Quidditch does sound more interesting,' said Brocklebank.
'Only if you understand the rules,' said Boot.
'I'll stick with Monkey Island,' said Muybridge.
Ah! Now, that was the flavour of the month. Muybridge's parents, being Muggles, hadn't really grasped the concept of Hogwarts and had sent Muybridge with a load of Muggle stuff, most of which was totally unnecessary. They were also very wealthy and the stand-out item was a genuine portable computer, which opened like a book. It was quite heavy and the screen wasn't very big, but it was in colour and Muybridge could do all sorts of calculations on it and type letters and essays. The main problem was that he had no way of printing them out as the school had no printers. Or any computers of any sort.
The best thing that Muybridge had on his wonderful machine was a game called Monkey Island 2. I don't know what happened to Monkey Island 1, but Muybridge's game had a weird humanish figure called Guybrush who had to battle an evil zombie pirate chief called LeChuck. It was addictive, and even the wizarding types agreed that there was nothing like it in the world of magic.
We made our way back to the Common Room, still discussing the relative merits of Quidditch and cricket. Muybridge didn't participate and I'm sure he was mentally already playing on his machine. He was the one who tripped over the brush and dustpan that our elves always leave just inside the door and Charm so that someone always trips over them. Penny Clearwater warned about it on our first day and said it was a hint that we should tidy after ourselves. A hint that everyone totally ignored.
'You know you will have to write that Potions essay before tomorrow's lesson,' I said as we hunched over the screen in the boys' dorm. 'Snape will do worse things to you than LeChuck does to Guybrush.'
'I think Steve's in love with Elaine,' said Goldstein. 'Elaine' was the love interest in the game. 'It makes you go blind, I tell you.'
'I shall plead a head injury as my reason for not doing it,' said Muybridge, patting his bandana complacently.
'Hmm. Good luck with that,' said Boot. 'I don't think Snape does reasonable.'
'How long does the battery last?' I said. 'It seems to be going forever.'
'It's got some new power management technology,' said Muybridge. 'I guess I'll have to find a power socket somewhere, sooner or later.'
'What's a power socket?' said Boot.
The bandages came off but Muybridge continued to struggle with his prep assignments. The Proflet called him in to talk about the problem was but he couldn't work out the cause. I could have told them what the problem was – all his waking hours were spent on his computer. Everyone in his year was worried but we didn't know what to do. We sat in little huddles in the Common Room, discussing in anxious, hushed voices, while the rest of the house rampaged around us.
'It's nice to see you first years bonding so well' said The Proflet at his Monthly Get-Together, as he called it; tea and biscuits in his rooms. 'Some Year Groups take months to settle but you seem to have got going very quickly.'
We all looked at each other, slightly embarrassed, because we all knew what was drawing us together. All except Steve Muybridge, who sat as part of the group but only because we all sat around him. I could see his fingers twitching as he played games in his mind, but The Proflet was oblivious.
The Proflet beamed around at us and nodded thoughtfully to himself. 'But I have to say that you aren't actually performing as a group quite as highly as I would have expected,' he said. 'We aren't supposed to be competitive, though we are, of course, but other teachers have commented that your work overall is not quite as sparkling as past years. Hmmm? Nothing specific, and still quite satisfactory, but nothing as outstanding as the Hat might have led us to expect.'
Afterwards we found ourselves in yet another huddle, down in The Cloisters, and it was a huddle because it was getting cold.
'We have to do something,' said Padma. 'Look. We know about computers and that. We've lived in the outside world. But these guys, they haven't got a clue. If we told them they wouldn't understand.'
'They'd think it was some sort of enchanted book and just want to know where he got it from,' said Tony.
'That's what I thought it was,' said Terry. 'I've never seen one like that before. I thought computers were the size of a house.'
'I mean, if it was an enchanted book, they'd be dead worried,' said Padma. 'But they'd think that, if it was a Muggle thing, it couldn't be that dangerous.'
'I don't think it is dangerous in itself,' I said. 'It's only because it's distracting him.'
'And dragging us down,' said Mandy.
'That, too,' I said. 'But it isn't a magical effect. There were kids at my Muggle school who had Spectrums and that, and they were totally obsessed.'
'How do we know it's not a magical effect?' said Terry.
'Because it's not a magical artefact,' said Tony.
'Even so, surely magic could help him,' said Mandy.
'Magic can't cure everything,' said Terry.
'But I think we should tell The Proflet,' said Padma.
But Tony was adamant. 'We don't involve anyone else,' he said. 'I'm never going to sneak.'
'But would it be sneaking?' squeaked Mandy. 'We'd be helping him.'
'It would feel like sneaking,' said Tony. 'We'll have to help him ourselves.'
Which was a great sentiment, but the snag was that we had no idea what to do to help him and other people were starting to notice that we were hanging around looking anxious and Steve wasn't participating.
Despite his 'terrible injury' (as he had told Snape) Steve was quite good at flying.
He shrugged when I asked him how he managed to fly so well. 'It's a bit like operating a game control,' he said. 'Like being in a computer game, but it's real life. It's great.'
We had been put in a separate 'advanced' flying group for people who could be relied not to fall off their brooms. Mandy was really struggling and Tony said that flying made him broomsick so they had to stick to basic exercises.
We, however, were being taught how to bespell a broom.
'Or anything, really,' said Hooch, 'but the spells are particularly well suited to brooms.'
'Do spells have a shape, Professor?' asked MacMillan. 'I mean, are the spells broom shaped?'
'Not a physical shape, no,' she said, 'but they sound long and thin. The basic one is Vileeskierias, with a hand flutter over the broomhead. That gives it lift. Skiverikita gives the flyer control.'
She swept her hand along the broomstick and waved it over the bristles, The stick glowed and then faded.
'You will note that both Charms are members of the Skeeva family and are quite forgiving,' she went on. 'The Charms for levitating a ball are much rounder. Orubarvel gives it lift.' She mimed a rounded gesture. 'I haven't got a ball here to demonstrate, but that is basically what powers a snitch. Boorlunkita gives control but control Charms only work over a very short range.'
'How much is the range?' asked Steve. I could see he was getting into this.
'A few feet,' she said. 'And it's not stable. What it means is that you have to be sittiing on the ball, or the broom, or whatever, to use the Charm. Now. I will demonstrate once again, after which take your brooms and apply Vileeskierias, copying my hand movements.'
We strolled in a group back to the castle, and Steve seemed almost back to normal, chatting away with Abbott, but as soon as we got to our Common Room he scuttled into a corner with his bag, took out his computer and, for him, we completely disappeared.
The rest of us had barely settled down for the first prep period when the door opened and The Proflet came through, followed by a second year called Edgecombe.
'Sorry to intrude on all this studious enthusiasm,' he whispered. 'I was looking for young Stephen.'
'I think he's working over there, sir,' said Terry.
'Ah, yes,' he said. 'So he is. Thank you, Marietta. I'll take it from here.'
'What have you told him?' Tony asked Edgecombe. He sounded polite but I could see he was very angry.
'What did you want to go sneaking for?' said Terry. 'We had it in hand.'
'Yeah. Sneak,' hissed Tony, and Edgecombe flinched.
'I haven't told him …' she began.
'Go away, sneak,' said Tony.
'Michael, could you come here, please?' called The Proflet.
He was leaning over Steve, who was cringing away from him and hugging his computer.
'Do you know what this is?' he asked.
'It's a computer,' I said. 'Like a Muggle thinking machine.'
'But it's tiny,' he said. 'I thought they were huge.'
'They used to be,' I said. 'But they're getting smaller and smaller.'
'There's something in there,' he muttered. 'I think I'm going to need to help with this.'
'Can I help, sir?' I said.
He grinned. 'Thank you, but I think this may be beyond even you,' he said. He flicked his wand and a soft ball of light emerged and scampered through the wall.
Almost immediately, there was a knock on the door.
'Open!' he called, and a strange and rather frightening figure entered the Common Room. He had two artificial legs, one of which tripped over the brush and dustpan, and the other scolded it. He also had a hook for one hand and at least only three fingers on the other. I had only ever seen him sitting at the High Table so I had never realised how many bits were missing.
'Gosh, that was quick,' said The Proflet. 'Thanks for coming, Van. I've got something here which might be up your Alley.'
Professor Kettleburn stomped over to us and peered down at the computer.
'Looks like a book,' he grunted.
'It's like a Muggle magic book,' said The Proflet. 'We just want to have a look at it, Steve. You will get it back straight away.'
Very nervously and tentatively, Steve handed the computer over to The Proflet, who passed it quickly to Professor Kettleburn.
'There's something in there,' he said. 'I can feel it but I can't work out what it is.'
'What does this box do?' said Professor Kettleburn.
'You press the right keys and it will play films, games, do work things,' said Steve. 'Look,' and I could see that he had loaded up Encarta: the entry about elephants.
'It's like Mogavegaly's Bestiary,' said Professor Kettleburn. 'Except the pictures aren't so clear.' He ran the fingers of his more or less intact hand over the case. 'Definitely something in there, though.'
'There's just a CD Rom,' said Steve. 'It sort of vibrates when it's reading something.'
'Gets excited, does it?' said Professor Kettleburn. 'Have you tried Evocatio?' he asked The Proflet.
'I haven't tried anything. Not without a second opinion.'
'Okay. Let's see how this flies,' said Professor Kettleburn. 'This is a broad-spectrum revelation Charm,' he told me, ever the teacher. 'Useful if you don't know what you're dealing with but not very powerful. Evocatio!'
There was a jolt, which was felt by everyone, and a smell of hot electronics and fried onions, and a figure started to balloon out of the CD drive. It was dressed in a red coat and had a black beard and a big black hat, but what was most striking were the glowing red eyes and the green face, covered in pustules.
'LeChuck?' breathed Steve.
'Arrrr.' The evil zombie pirate captain LeChuck glared at him. 'Thou art not Guybrush Threepwood,' he growled. 'Who art thou?'
'I'm Steve,' said Steve. 'Steve Muybridge.'
'Well, Steve, me old shipmate,' said LeChuck. 'Thou wert a tasty morsel but 'tis time we were out of here.' He seized Steve by the shoulder and levitated into the window.
Which completely failed to shatter. Steve and LeChuck bounced off the glass and landed on top of The Proflet. LeChuck roared and took off again. Professor Kettleburn shot off a Stunner, but it missed and all he managed to do was shatter the window for LeChuck. 'Thanks, matey,' crowed LeChuck and soared into the sky with Steve dangling from one green and pustulant hand.
'After him,' shouted Professor Kettleburn. Terry Boot was on the case. He grabbed the elves' broom and ran his hand over it, making it the shortest broomstick ever. I picked up the dustpan and shouted 'Orubarvel!'hoping the hand gestures didn't matter too much and trying to remember the control spell.
'Boorlunkita,' hissed Tony. 'Attaboy, Mike!'
It worked. Just. I shot out of the broken window, screaming in excitement. It was wonderful, and completely against the rules. LeChuck was above me and a bit ahead, but I couldn't see Terry.
Then he shot past me, shouting 'Yayyyy!' and controlling the broom with both hands. It was so small it looked as though he was clutching his groin.
I after him yelling 'Whoop! Whoop!'
LeChuck came to a sudden halt in mid-air.
'Arrrr! Thou hast found the Big Whoop?' he shouted.
'Noooo!' wailed Steve, dangling from his fist.
And the evil zombie pirate captain LeChuck vanished.
There was no comically amusing pause while Steve hovered in mid-air, waiting for gravity to notice him. He just fell. And I dived after him, too, but in a controlled way. I managed to grab his arm and the shock felt like he had dislocated my shoulder. It also almost pulled me off my trusty dustpan. My years of skateboard practice paid off. We hung on long enough for Terry to grab his other arm and stabilise us. Even with the two of us he was too heavy for our sweeping implements to lift, but we managed to get to the ground gently enough.
People were running out of the castle but the three of us just stood in a state of delayed shock. At least were alive.
'That was LeChuck,' gibbered Steve.
We were alive, but there were a number of casualties of this escapade, one of which was Steve's computer. It had completely burned out.
The Head turned it over and over in his hands as he examined it. He seemed to be the only member of staff who had a clue what it was.
'You say it was working perfectly well when you brought it to the school?' he said.
Steve nodded unhappily.
'But it never needed charging?'
Steve nodded again.
The Head glanced at Professor Kettleburn. 'What do you think was in there, Silvanus?' he said.
Professor Kettleburn shrugged. 'A Maninfestation, I think,' he said. 'Could have come from anywhere. Could have come from the boy.'
'Ah, yes,' said The Head. 'Stephen, would you be so good as to wave your wand a bit?'
Steve waved his wand but nothing happened.
'This is unfortunate,' said The Head. 'Touch your wand to mine, if you could be so kind.'
They touched wands and The Head frowned. 'I'm afraid there's nothing there,' he said. 'Even the wand is drained. I don't know whether you or the PC picked up the Maninfestation here or outside the school, but it appears to have consumed all your magic to power itself and give itself the form it took.'
'You mean, I have no magic?' whispered Steve.
'I'm afraid not. Not at this moment,' said The Head gently. 'Who knows that it may return,' he went on, 'but I fear that our curriculum many no longer be appropriate for you.'
'Are you chucking him out?' I said. 'That's really unfair.'
The Head looked at me over his half-moon specs. 'Would you feel comfortable, Michael, if you were at this school and you had no magic?' he said. 'I'm sure that any other school would welcome him and I should be absolutely clear that this is not an exclusion or expulsion. In the armed forces I suppose it would be an honourable discharge. I will give you the glowing references you deserve when I discuss matters with your parents.'
'What about the computer?' asked Steve.
'I think we may have to keep it here, in isolation, just in cast,' said The Head. 'And in the meantime, I feel a new school rule would be appropriate: All Computers of Any Variety Are Absolutely Forbidden.'