Silver the Hedgehog was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold windowpane, his mouth wide open with some drool spilling out. The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Flicky feathers, apple cores, and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spellbooks lay on his bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk. The headline of one blared:

SILVER THE HEDGEHOG: THE CHOSEN ONE?

Rumours continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more. "We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask me anything" said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.

Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centred on the fabled Hall of Prophecy. Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Nocturnus, now serving sentences on Prison Island for trespass and attempted theft, were attempting to steal a prophecy.

The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Silver the Hedgehog, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Silver "the Chosen One" believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (ctd. page 2, column 5)

A second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore the headline "SALINE THE FISH SUCCEEDS MAX". Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-and-white picture Saline. The picture was moving, the man was waving at the ceiling.

Saline, previously Head of the Diamond Cutter office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Max the Chipmunk as Minister of Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the Wizarding community, though rumors of a rift between the new Minister and Locke the Echidna, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Chaos Council, surfaced within hours of Saline taking office.

Saline's representatives admitted that he had met with Locke at once upon taking possession of the top job, but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Locke is known to (ctd. page 3, column 2)

To the left of this paper sat another one, which had been folded so that a story bearing the title "Ministry Guarantees Students' Safety" was visible.

Newly appointed Minister of Magic, Saline, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Soleanna School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn. "For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans" said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of counter curses, and a small task force of Diamond Cutters dedicated solely to the protection of Soleanna School.

Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mrs Vandersnout "My grandson, Antione, a good friend of Silver the Hedgehog's, incidentally, who fought the Nocturnus alongside him at the Ministry in June and…

But the rest of this story was obscured by the large birdcage standing on top of it. Inside it was Lily. Once or twice she clicked her beak impatiently, but Silver was too deeply asleep to hear her. A large trunk stood in the very middle of the room. Its lid was open; it looked expectant; yet it was almost empty but for a residue of old pants, sweets, empty ink bottles, and broken quills that coated the very bottom. Nearby, on the floor, lay a purple leaflet emblazoned with the words:

— issued on behalf of —

The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY

AGAINST DARK FORCES

The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Nocturnus. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.

1. You are advised not to leave the house alone.

2. Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen.

3. Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along-Chaos Control.

4. Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Nocturnus masquerading as others by use of the Polyjuice Potion (see page 2)

5. Should you feel that a family member, colleague, friend, or neighbour is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law Enforcement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperius Curse (see page 4).

6. Should the Dark Mark appear over any dwelling place or other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Diamond Cutter office immediately.

7. Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Nocturnus may now be using EXEs (see page 10). Any sighting of an EXE, or encounter with same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY.

Silver grunted in his sleep and his face slid down the window an inch or so, making his glasses still more lopsided, but he did not wake up. An alarm clock, repaired by Silver several years ago, ticked loudly on the sill, showing one minute to eleven. Beside it, held in place by Silver's relaxed hand, was a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanting writing. Silver had read this letter so often since its arrival three days ago that although it had been delivered in a tightly furled scroll, it now lay quite flat.

Dear Silver,

If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Penders

Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to Deerwood,

where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays.

If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance

in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the

Deerwood. I shall explain this more fully when I see you.

Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to

see you this Friday,

I am, yours most sincerely,

Locke the Echidna

Though he already knew it by heart, Silver had been stealing glances at this missive every few minutes since seven o'clock that evening, when he had first taken up his position beside his bedroom window, which had a reasonable view of both ends of Penders Drive. He knew it was pointless to keep rereading Locke's words; Silver had sent back his "Yes" with the delivering Chao, as requested, and all he could do now was wait. Either Locke was going to come, or he was not. But Silver had not packed. It just seemed too good to be true that he was going to be rescued from his Aunt and Uncle after a mere fortnight of their company. He could not shrug off the feeling that something was going to go wrong. His reply to Locke's letter might have gone astray. Locke could be prevented from collecting him; the letter might turn out not to be from Locke at all, but a trick or joke or trap. Silver had not been able to face packing and then being let down and having to unpack again. The only gesture he had made to the possibility of a journey was to shut Lily safely in her cage. The minute hand on the alarm clock reached the number twelve and, at that precise moment, the streetlamp outside the window went out. Silver awoke as though the sudden darkness were an alarm. Hastily unsticking his cheek from the glass, he pressed his nose against the window instead and squinted down at the pavement. A tall red figure was walking up the garden path. Silver jumped up as though he had received an electric shock, knocked over his chair, and started snatching anything and everything within reach from the floor and throwing it into the trunk. Even as he lobbed a set of robes, two spellbooks, and a packet of crisps across the room, the doorbell rang. Downstairs in the living room his Uncle Menthor shouted "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night!?". Silver froze with a brass telescope in one hand and his shoes in the other. He had completely forgotten to warn his Aunt and Uncle that Locke might be coming. Feeling both panicky and close to laughter, he clambered over the trunk and wrenched open his bedroom door in time to hear a deep voice say "Good evening. You must be Mr Menthor. I daresay Silver has told you I would be coming for him?". Silver ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm's reach of his uncle whenever possible.

A wise decision as Menthor was staring at the visitor as though he could not believe his eyes. Locke pleasantly nodded apologetically "Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Silver did not warn you that I was coming. However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times". He stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind him "It's been a long time since I was last year. I must say your garden is flourishing". Menthor said nothing, it was clear Locke's natural aura of authority made it clear he wasn't one to easily bully. Locke then noticed Silver at the stairs "Ah, good evening, Silver". Menthor looked like he was close to shouting "Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude-" "Yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often. Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Cynthia". Cynthia was now standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She looked shocked but unlike Menthor did seem to understand who Locke was. When Menthor failed to introduce him Locke bowed "Locke the Echidna. We've corresponded in the past of course". Silver thought it an odd way of reminding Cynthia that Locke sent her an exploding letter. Menniker was now peering through the living room door "Good evening" Locke said politely to him. Locke then waited a moment or two, apparently to see whether anyone was going to say anything, but as the silence stretched on, he smiled "Shall we assume that you have invited me into your sitting room?". Menniker scrambled out of the way as Locke passed him. Silver, still clutching the telescope and trainers, jumped the last few stairs and followed Locke, who had settled himself in the armchair nearest the fire and was taking in the surroundings with an expression of benign interest. He looked quite extraordinarily out of place "Aren't-Aren't we leaving, sir?" Silver asked anxiously. Locke gave a slight nod "Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first. And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer". Menthor entered the room with his family behind him "Oh, you will, will you?" "Yes, I shall".

With a casual flick of is right hand Locke made the couch zoom forward and knock the knees out from under all three of them so that they collapsed upon it. Another wave and the couch zoomed back to its original position "We may as well be comfortable" said Locke pleasantly. As Locke put his hand down Silver saw his wrist. The fur was gone, the skin was black and shrivelled like it was burned "Sir, what happened to your-?" "Later, Silver. Please sit down" Locke pulled the glove up to cover the injury. Silver took the remaining armchair, choosing not to look at his Aunt and Uncle, who seemed stunned into silence. Locke smiled at them "I was expecting to be offered refreshment. But the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness". A third wave of his hand, and a dusty bottle and five glasses appeared in midair. The bottle tipped and poured a generous measure of honey-coloured liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated to each person in the room "Madam Tatianna's finest oak-matured mead" said Locke, raising his glass to Silver, who caught hold of his own and sipped. He had never tasted anything like it before but enjoyed it immensely. His family, after quick, scared looks at one another, tried to ignore their glasses completely, a difficult feat, as they were nudging them gently on the sides of their heads. Silver could not suppress a suspicion that Locke was rather enjoying himself. Locke looked over to him "Well, Silver, a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Wisp. But first of all, I must tell you that Elias's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned". Over on the couch, Uncle Menthor's head turned, but Silver did not look at him. He couldn't think of anything to say except "Oh. Right". Locke understood and continued "This is, in the main, fairly straightforward. You add a reasonable number of rings to your account at Nameless, and you inherit all of Elias's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy-" "His godfather's dead?" said Uncle Menthor loudly from the couch. Locke and Silver both turned to look at him. The glass of mead was now knocking quite insistently on the side of Menthor's head; he attempted to beat it away "He's dead? His godfather?" "Yes" Locke said. He did not ask Silver why he had not confided in his Aunt and Uncle.

He continued as if there had been no interruption "Our problem, is that Elias also left you number twelve, Haven Place" "He's been left a house?" said Uncle Menthor greedily, his eyes narrowing. Silver ignored him "You can keep using it as headquarters. I don't care. You can have it; I don't really want it" Silver never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Haven Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted forever by the memory of Elias prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within the place he had wanted so desperately to leave. Locke understood "That is generous. We have, however, vacated the building temporarily. Well, Acorn family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male in the bloodline. Elias was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Maw, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood". A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Elias's mother flashed into Silver's mind "I bet there is" "Quite. And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Elias's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Fiona Fox". Without realizing what he was doing, Silver sprang to his feet; Elias's killer, inherit his house "No" "Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either. The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Elias's hands. It might be that Fiona will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position. Fortunately, though, there is a simple test". He placed his empty glass on a small table beside his chair, but before he could do anything else, Menthor shouted "Will you get these ruddy things off us?". Silver looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere "Oh, I'm so sorry" said Locke politely. He waved his hand and all three glasses vanished "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know".

It looked as though Menthor was bursting with any number of unpleasant retorts, but he merely shrank back into the cushions with Cynthia and Menniker and said nothing. Locke turned his attention back to Silver "You see, if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited-". He waved his hand for a fifth time. There was a loud crack, and a Marmolim appeared, a very familiar one. Cynthia let out a hair-raising shriek; nothing this filthy had entered her house in living memory. Menniker drew his feet off the floor and sat with them raised almost above his head, as though he thought the creature might run at him. Menthor bellowed "What the hell is that?" "Ghana" Locke answered. Ghana was angrily stomping his feet against the floor "Ghana won't, Ghana won't, Ghana won't! Ghana belongs to Miss Fiona, oh yes, Ghana belongs to the Acorns, Ghana wants his new mistress, Ghana won't go to the Silver brat, Ghana won't, won't, won't…". As he went on Locke was forced to shout over him "As you can see, Silver, Ghana is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership" "I don't care. I don't want him" Silver said looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping Marmolim. Locke raised his eyebrow "You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Fiona? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Wisp for the past year?". Silver stared at Locke. He knew that Ghana could not be permitted to go and live with Fiona, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Elias, was repugnant. "Give him an order. If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress" Locke said. Ghana was still screaming "Won't, won't, won't, WON'T!". Silver could think of nothing to say, except "Ghana, shut up!". It looked for a moment as though Ghana was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging.

After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum. Locke gave a great sigh of relief "Well, that simplifies matters. It seems that Elias knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number twelve, Haven Place and of Ghana" "Do I…Do I have to keep him with me?" Silver asked, aghast, as Ghana thrashed around at his feet. Locke shook his head "Not if you don't want to. If I might make a suggestion, you could send him to Soleanna to work in the kitchen there. In that way, the other Marmolims could keep an eye on him". Silver nodded "Yeah, yeah, I'll do that. Uh…Ghana, I want you to go to Soleanna and work in the kitchens there with the other Marmolims". Ghana, who was now lying flat on his back with his arms and legs in the air, gave Silver one upside-down look of deepest loathing and, with another loud crack, vanished. Locke smiled "There is also the matter of the Black Hawk, Volt. Big has been looking after him since Elias died, but Volt is yours now, so if you would prefer to make different arrangements-" "No, he can stay with Big. I think Volt would prefer that" "Big will be delighted. He was thrilled to see Volt again. Incidentally, we have decided, in the interests of Volt's safety, to rechristen him 'Witherwings' for the time being, though I doubt that the Ministry would ever guess he is the Black Hawk they once sentenced to death. Now, Silver, is your trunk packed?". Silver hesitated which made Locke smirk "Doubtful that I would turn up?" "I'll just go and…Uh…Finish off" said Silver hastily, hurrying to pick up his fallen telescope and trainers. It took him a little over ten minutes to track down everything he needed; at last, he had managed to extract his Chaos Emerald from under the bed, screwed the top back on his jar of colour change ink, and forced the lid of his trunk shut on his cauldron. Then, heaving his trunk in one hand and holding Lily's cage in the other, he made his way back downstairs. He was disappointed to discover that Locke was not waiting in the hall, which meant that he had to return to the living room. Nobody was talking. Locke was humming quietly, apparently quite at ease, but the atmosphere was thicker than cold custard, and Silver did not dare look at the others as he said "Professor. I'm ready now" "Good, just one last thing, then".

Locke got to his feet and faced the three Muggles "As you will no doubt be aware, Silver comes of age in a year's time-" "No" said Aunt Cynthia, speaking for the first time since Locke's arrival. "I'm sorry?" said Locke politely. Cynthia gulped before explaining "No, he doesn't. He's a month younger than Menniker, and he doesn't turn eighteen until the year after next" "Ah, but in the Wizarding world, we come of age at seventeen". Menthor muttered "Preposterous" but Locke ignored him "Now, as you already know, the wizard called Lord Finitevus has returned to this country. The Wizarding community is currently in a state of open warfare. Silver, whom Finitevus has already attempted to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day when I left him upon your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining about his parents' murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him as though he were your own". Locke paused, and although his voice remained light and calm, and he gave no obvious sign of anger, Silver felt a kind of chill emanating from him and noticed that his Aunt and Uncle drew very slightly closer together "You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Silver as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you". Both Aunt Cynthia and Uncle Menthor looked around instinctively, as though expecting to see someone other than Menniker squeezed between them "Us, mistreat Menni? What d'you-?" began Uncle Menthor furiously.

But Locke raised his finger for silence, a silence which fell as though he had struck Menthor dumb "The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Silver has powerful protection while he can still call this house 'home.' However miserable he has been here, however unwelcome, however badly treated, you have at least, grudgingly, allowed him a home. This magic will cease to operate the moment that Silver turns seventeen; in other words, at the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this. That you allow Silver to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time". None of them said anything. Menniker was frowning slightly, as though he was still trying to work out when he had ever been mistreated. Menthor looked as though he had something stuck in his throat. Aunt Cynthia, however, was oddly flushed. "Well, Silver, time for us to be off" said Locke at last, standing up. Locke smiled back at the Muggles as if he just had the most pleasant conversation of his life "Until we meet again". "Bye" said Silver hastily before he followed Locke, who paused beside Silver's trunk, upon which Lily's cage was perched "We do not want to be encumbered by these just now. Might I send them to Deerwood to await us there?". Silver nodded and Locke waved his hand to make it all disappear "However, I would like you to bring your Chaos Emerald. Just in case". Locke extended his other hand which was all of a sudden holding the Emerald. Silver took it and Locke led him out "And now, Silver, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress known as adventure".