Chapter One

“This is pretty boss…” Jenson whispered rather loudly to Ezra, who seemed to hoot in agreement.
Jenson’s mother, surprisingly, had told him that he may spend his last two weeks of summer in England with two of his new friends from school. Though his reunion with his mother and Jason had been tearful and much love and many stories had been exchanged, she had wasted no time in putting him back to work, this time with muggle studies.

This time last year, Jenson had been informed by a small gentleman in mismatched attire, Professor Filius Flitwick, that he was a rarity – a wizard born to completely muggle, non-magical, parents. Along with this revelation, Jenson had received a full scholarship to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to cover his supplies and even his flight to and from the Southeastern United States to England.

After Professor Flitwick had helped Jenson turn their living room coffee table a vibrant shade of pink, Jenson’s mother had agreed to allow him to attend the school on the condition that he keep her in touch of the goings on and that he would keep up with his muggle education when he returned.

True to her word, the day he arrived home, she had presented him with textbooks to have read and workbooks to have finished before he returned to school in September. So in addition to a Potions essay, an Astronomy lunar chart to keep for July, a list of questions to answer for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and a book to have read and written an essay about for Transfiguration, Jenson had to learn the multiplication and division tables up to 20, ‘learn’ to write compound sentences (although he used them all the time), master cursive writing (he didn’t see the point) and read a book from a list about 10 pages long. He had settled on a book of Greek myths. That had been, by far, the most exciting portion of his muggle homework.

On a quiet Friday evening in mid-July, just as Ms. Shirey had returned home from work, Jenson received a rather strange letter.

Well, the letter wasn’t quite strange so much as the way in which it was delivered. Just as his mother had settled down to take off her shoes and check on his workbook completion, there was a screech at the back door and, as they both turned to look, a barn owl landed on the banister just outside of the window. Jenson had perked up instantly.

“Is…is that a school owl?” his mother had asked. A year’s worth of receiving this type of mail service had jaded her to the experience…though she wished that they would send them by ‘muggle post’ every once in a while. “If nothing else, just to give us some more business. Keep’s me in work and all.”

Noticing the pink and purple bow tied to the owl’s neck, Jenson’s mind had raced. “It’s probably from Astrid. I don’t know anyone else who would decorate their owl.”

Opening the door, Jenson coaxed the owl in, amazed at how such a tiny owl carried such a relatively large envelope. Jenson checked the envelop face, smiling when he read To Jenson From the Coolest Chick in the World, Astrid Soliel Burleheart.

“It’s from Astrid alright,” he said with a sigh, opening the letter. His mother looked over his books while he began to read.

Jenson! I hope your summer has been as awesome as my summer has been, even though it would have been more awesome if you and Teal had been here too, but you will be so ‘yay’ for that! We went to Disneyworld this year and Belle and the Beast were there, but they were fake, but it was still fun, and Mickey and Donald and Minnie and Snow White were there, and -

Jenson took a second to catch his breath. It’s like she writes exactly what she’s thinking as it comes to mind. He continued reading, finally getting to a part that concerned him.

Oh! Remember at the end of the year when I told you that you guys were coming to spend the last two weeks before school over here? I just realized that I haven’t sent you a formal invitation, so enclosed is an official invitation. Anyhoo, remember to bring something to wear for my birthday party! The theme is Under The Sea, so make sure you look the part and stuff and be ready to have an awesome time!

Jenson checked behind the other letter and, sure enough, there was an elaborately decorated letterhead and an invitation to spend the final two weeks before the Hogwarts school year and the Burkeheart home in London, England. Like many other pictures and drawings in the wizarding world, all of the doodles and decorations around the edges of the invitation were moving, dancing and generally seeming to have a good time. A Seahorse was doing the limbo in the bottom right corner while, in the top center, a mermaid was waving excitedly to a sailing ship. Jenson was speechless.

And that was how he, along with Teal, had been invited to spend the final two weeks before Hogwarts with Astrid and her family at their home in England. When Jenson had shown her his finished workbooks and his nearly finished Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes, she had given him the okay.

“After all, maybe that Hermione girl could help you finish your Hogwarts homework. Or this girl Astrid’s parents.”

Well, he thought glumly, Hermione would not be there, of that he was nearly certain. On the bright side, he could finally be done with work and not have her comparing notes with him as she often enjoyed doing. And, he thought as he packed his bags excitedly, he would be able to fly again and, perhaps, even use magic? He had shared another tearful goodbye with his mother and brother, especially with Jason. He had not seen much of Jason because he had been busy playing baseball that summer and had practiced until late evening, leaving their only encounters as weekend romps and short, before-bed wrestling matches for the remote.

His flight, which he had opted to take two weeks early (since his school ticket was open-ended) was uneventful and, after a restless nap, he found himself back in the bustle of the London International Airport.

He and Ezra had landed, not an hour ago, at the London International Airport, much to the surprise of many a muggle as he exited the plane with his owl and backpack in tow. After picking up his trunk, he took a moment to calm himself. Astrid’s dad was supposed to pick him up…but it was at that moment that Jenson realized that he did not know which dad was picking him up.

Um…okay. I know that one is a Slytherin…and that’s…Mr. Anson? And her other dad…Eli…plays for the Chudley Cannons. And he’s a Hufflepuff.

Jenson’s plan had been to look for someone dressed oddly and mention something about muggles, just to gauge their reaction. If it was one of her dads, he would try to figure out which house they belonged to and boom! Instantly impress your friends’ parents. Of course, there didn’t seem to be anyone else there with a huge trunk and an owl, so maybe they would pick him out of the crowd and save him the trouble.

“You must be Jenson.”

That had taken considerably less time than he had imagined. Jenson had turned to find a tallish man with a mess of short, dirty-blonde hair, a pair of steel-blue eyes, a rather high, sloping forehead, prominent dimples and a mischievous smile grinning at him as he walked from a nearby coffee kiosk. Jenson was quite taken aback.

“I- I am. And you would be, Astrid’s -?”

“- dad. Yes sir, Mr. Shirey, that is one of my many hats. My name,” he said with a sweep of an imaginary hat, “is Eli Jeevas. But please, call me Eli.”

Jenson was not sure what took him aback the most – his theatrical manner or his obviously well-tailored blue suit which matched his eyes perfectly. Since the only other time Jenson had seen a wizard dressing as a muggle was Professor Flitwick and his…interesting choice of raiment, Jenson had expected that picking the wizard out of this muggle crowd would be like picking out an exploding firework against a night sky.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Eli,” Jenson said with a broad smile, offering him a hand in greeting.

Eli took his hand with a grin, and Jenson noticed that, despite Eli’s obviously impeccable grooming (even his molars seem to flash in the fluorescent lighting!), Jenson could feel light calluses running along the pads of Eli’s palm and fingers. As a keeper, Jenson surmised, his hands must take a lot of punishment.

“Well, that is quite a grip you have there,” Eli said kindly, looking impressed. “I do so hate it when all you get is a limp fish instead of a hearty handshake.”

“Well, that is one thing I DID learn from my dad…” Jenson said, trying to keep his voice light.

Eli seemed to sense his slight discomfort with the direction of the conversation, and chose at that precise moment to clap his hands together rather loudly.

“Well then, master Jenson, shall we get along now? We don’t want to keep Astrid waiting, do we?”

Jenson grinned at Eli’s suddenly overly grave expression.

“No, no…that would be terrible.”

And that is how Jenson managed to find himself standing in front of a house a shade of blue that shamed the August sky above. Jenson’s house was not small, by any means, but this house made his look like a broom cupboard next to a master bedroom. The house was situated in a very tidy neighborhood that was so orderly that Jenson expected, at any minute, a troupe of grandmotherly type-women to be strolling through with cameras around their necks.

“This is pretty boss…”

Eli insisted on grabbing his bag and, up till this point, Jenson realized that Eli had yet to use any magic. They had taken their apparently enchanted limousine (it was a bit disconcerting to watch the steering wheel spin without hands), but otherwise nothing that Jenson had seen indicated any magical activity.

There was an abrupt explosion from the first floor of the house. Jenson could hear someone yelling and, abruptly, the second window to the right of the door flew open with a shower of colorful sparks and smoke visible from the front yard. Jenson heard Eli sigh.

“He just won’t learn, will he?”

Jenson looked around the neighborhood, surprised that no one else on the street had come streaking out of the house to find the source of the noise. Eli noticed Jenson’s reaction.

“Oh, we have placed an anti-muggle charm on this house. Any noises and sights within the edge of the yard are completely unnoticed by neighbors and, whenever a neighbor feels the urge to be neighborly and pay a visit, they suddenly remember a very important meeting that they simply must attend to. Oh bless their little hearts,” he said without a trace of sarcasm, turning to watch a family exit their car down the street.

Jenson was still concerned.

“Do you think that they’re alright in there?”

Eli laughed and turned his attention back to Jenson. “Oh yes, I’m sure that they’re fine. Every so often, Anson tries to whip up something in the kitchen and, Rowling-bless him, he can’t even boil water properly unless it’s in a cauldron.” Still chuckling, he picked up Jenson’s bags and motioned for Jenson to follow him inside. “All those years as an ‘outstanding’ potions student and he still can’t manage to make oatmeal. Wolfsbane potion? No problem. Veritaserum? Sure thing. Bundt cake? Make sure you have St. Mungo’s ready and on alert…”

Jenson had never heard of Veritaserum or St. Mungo’s, but it all sounded very exciting.

Just as they reached the door, it burst open and a dark-haired gentleman dressed in a form-fitting button down purple shirt and a pair of equally form-fitting khakis stumbled out of the door, coughing and wiping his eyes with a flowery apron that was tossed over his shoulder. As he recovered, he began brushing himself off, still coughing softly, before realizing that he was no longer alone. He looked up to find both Eli and Jenson staring at him, Jenson with a look of concern, Eli with a look of amusement. As he started to say something, the dark-haired gentleman, Jenson assumed Anson, raised a finger in warning.

“I don’t want to hear it. I know that we agreed that I would stay out of the kitchen and that I then agreed that our agreement was discriminatory and that you were being a spoil-sport. I take it that you’re Jenson?” He said smoothly, turning his attention from Eli so nonchalantly that it took Jenson a second to recover.

“Oh, uh, yes sir.”

He had a closely-cropped beard covering his chin and an equally tidy mustache, both of which were currently dusted in what looked like flour. He brushed some off as he took a step forward, offering his hand in greeting.

“I’m Anson, Anson Burkeheart. I’ve heard things about you from Astrid.”

Jenson suddenly felt nervous as he shook Anson’s hand. Anson’s gaze reminded him of Dumbledore’s soul-piercing stare. “Good things, I certainly hope.”

“Oh, this and that…” Anson said with mock gravity, waving his hand in a flimsy, wishy-washy manner. As he released Jenson’s hand, he said, “That’s a fine handshake you got there. You get a lot of practice?”

Eli groaned as Jenson looked confused. He pushed past Anson, bumping him lightly with his shoulder. “He’s 12, Anson. Jesus…”

“I don’t underst-“

“Ah it’s fine, it’s fine. Well, doesn’t make sense to stand on the porch all day. Let’s go inside and alert the queen that you have arrived. Wait until you see what she’s planned for you three…”

He ushered Jenson through the door, chuckling evilly.

Astrid’s birthday party had been an interesting event. It was the first one Teal had ever been to, and he had the feeling that, like everything else seemed to be in Astrid’s home, it was more extravagant than it would have been for most people. The party ended and they moved on to supper, after which they watched a movie: “The Breakfast Club”.

Teal had never watched a movie before. Like Hogwarts, his house ran by means of magic, not electricity, and though he knew enough about electricity to understand how it worked, (his godmother had tried to give him some information about the Muggle world during his lessons at home, though she found the wizarding world to be far more important) he had never witnessed it very far past the point of lighting a building. Daily life in Astrid’s house was an avenue of new experiences for him. The simple act of heating food or finding a source of entertainment was entirely different here, not to mention the electronic box that Astrid had called a computer.

“The Breakfast Club” turned out to be a movie about five teenagers who had gotten Saturday morning detention at their Muggle school, and was filled with words that Teal’s godmother would be shocked to know he was hearing. Teal wanted to say that maybe they shouldn’t be watching this movie. Maybe his first cinematic experience should be something more “their age”. But he didn’t. If Astrid’s dads were letting them watch it, then it must be okay. Perhaps this was just one of those things that he didn’t understand the way everyone else did.

Despite the language he knew he was forbidden to use and the adult conversations the teenagers were having, Teal found himself actually learning a lot about the Muggle world from the movie. The most depressing discovery of all for Teal, however, was not that some teachers were mean and wrong (he knew Professor Snape, after all), or that people stole things for no other reason than the fact that they could. It wasn’t that some kids had parents who didn’t love them, who didn’t care about them, who treated them badly. It wasn’t even that sometimes you have to pretend to be someone you don’t want to be because you feel like it’s the only way you can survive. No. The most depressing discovery for Teal was that “when you grow up, your heart dies.”

“Who cares?” the boy on the screen had asked.

“I care,” the girl replied.

“I care,” thought Teal. “I really, really care...”


****************


They headed up to their rooms that night, Teal’s heart still heavy with the frightening knowledge he had just gained. It wasn’t until he reached for the doorknob of the room he was staying in that he remembered something very important. Jenson’s gift.

“Jenson!” Teal called, trying to keep his voice simultaneously soft, as it was now time for bed. The Ravenclaw boy turned his head to look at Teal from the room next door, which he was about to enter to go to sleep himself. “I forgot,” Teal informed him, “I have to give you your present.”

Teal rushed inside his room and over to the end table, where the wrapped gift was sitting, exactly where he had first placed it. He snatched it up as carefully as he could and returned to the Hallway. “Happy Birthday, Jenson,” he said as he handed the wrapping-covered statue to him.

Jenson fumbled with the paper for a second, struggling in the dark hallway to find the adhesive that held the paper together, before he finally just gave in and ripped it apart. Teal watched for Jenson’s expression as his eyes landed on the small statue, self-conscious about the gift. Even though it had felt like a fitting gift as he made it, Teal still wasn’t sure that Jenson would really like it. It hadn’t felt... close. It had felt like something that was made for Jenson, not something that existed for him.

Jenson smiled, but Teal couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. Now that he knew people pretended to be other things sometimes, how could he be sure? “Thank you, Teal!” Jenson said, seeming excited. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Teal shrugged, forcing a tiny smile onto his face.

“I wanted to...”


****************


The next few days would blur together in Teal’s memory as a plethora of tiny adventures and huge amounts of fun. They watched several more movies, including “The Little Mermaid”, (which Astrid’s birthday had apparently been inspired by) and Astrid and Jenson sang along with all of the songs. Teal found himself to be enjoying this movie far better than the first one he had seen. It was magical in a way that magic wasn’t.

“You know, mermaids don’t really look like that,” Teal had informed his two friends at first. “If you saw one, you would know it wasn’t a human.” He had never actually seen one himself, except for illustrations in books, but his godmother had assured them that they were accurate.

Astrid gave him a curious look, both informed and slightly agitated, as if this wasn’t new information to her, but he had somehow just ruined something she loved by pointing it out. She pursed her lips for a second before smiling and saying, “It’s just a cartoon, Teal. Fish can’t really talk, either.”

Teal didn’t bother telling her that some of them could, even though they were very rare, or in some cases enchanted. He didn’t think she would appreciate it very much.

A few more games of bowling improved Teal’s skill, though he wasn’t sure where or when he’d ever get to play it again. (Though he loved the idea of visiting Astrid’s house again, there were no official plans to do so yet, and therefore no way of knowing if it would actually happen.) Astrid’s skill level seemed to stay about the same, but it was hard to tell about Jenson, as he had continued to beat both of them from their first game, and spent so much of the game goofing off that it was difficult to decipher which points he made by direct intention and which ones he made by luck.

“Hey, dad, can Teal and Jenson fly around on two of your brooms for a bit?” Astrid had asked Eli one day after she spotted Teal staring at one of the enchanted sweepers enviously. Eli had gone to one of the closets, moved around inside for a moment, and returned with a broom in each hand, smiling at the two boys as he handed them over.

They had been flying around for close to an hour -- Astrid lying on the grass and writing in one of her notebooks as they did -- when Eli had come outside and called them back to the ground. He didn’t look or sound angry, but for the briefest of moments Teal felt as though they were about to be reprimanded for something. Eli’s actual reason for calling them was quite the opposite, though.

“You two are pretty good, for only having a little bit of experience on brooms,” he told the two boys as they landed on the soft, green grass.

“Oh, Teal’s got more than a little experience,” Jenson replied quickly, partially to shift the attention away from himself. He still felt very uncomfortable with flying, even though he found it enjoyable. “He was basically already an expert by the time we had our first lesson.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised, given some of the tricks you were pulling up there,” Eli said to Teal, smiling.

“I was pulling tricks?” Teal asked, not realizing that flying in any way other than the traditional form constituted as this.

“Have you ever considered playing Quidditch?”

“Um, no sir,” Teal replied, feeling as though he was letting Astrid’s father down.

“Why not? You’ve definitely got the skill.”

“I... um...” Teal wasn’t sure how to reply. He knew how he felt, but not how to communicate it. “I... I like flying, but... I think... I think if I had to do it, I wouldn’t like it so much anymore...”

“Nobody would be making you do it,” Eli replied through a bit of a chuckle. “I mean, you’d have to try out first, and then if you get on the team, which you definitely would, you-”

“Teal doesn’t like sports, dad!” Astrid called from her leisurely pose on the grass. Nipsy, who had been lying beside her peacefully, jumped up and began chasing a fly that had decided to move in too close.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Eli told Teal as he turned back to him. “You would make an excellent Seeker. What about you, Jenson?”

“Me? I... I’m really not that good. I just think flying is kind of fun. There’s nothing like it in the Muggle world.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, you could use some practice, sure, but I think you have some definite potential...” Eli looked Jenson up and down, trying to get a read on his build. Jenson gave him a quizzical look in return, trying to figure out where he was getting this idea from. “Let’s see something,” Eli said as he took a step closer to Jenson and tapped on his broom without warning. “Up!”

Jenson gasped as the broom shot up into the air, his grip on it increasing reflexively. His feet kicked below him, as if attempting to run in mid air, while the broom came to a halt and hovered above his head. When he finally looked down his panic resided a bit. He was only a few feet off the ground. It had felt like much higher during the course of his ascension.

“Um... what’s the test, exactly?” Jenson asked, his body dangling loosely beneath the broom.

“Just like I thought, you do have a firm grip,” he replied, more to himself than to Jenson. “Let’s just hope Anson was wrong about why...” he murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! I was just deducing that you might make a pretty good Beater... curse you, Anson,” he finished, shaking his head.

“Those are the ones that whack the balls with sticks, right?”

“...yep.” Eli replied slowly. “That’s them...”

He called the broom back down a few minutes later, once Jenson was really beginning to struggle to hold on, and they continued talking about Quidditch, moving on to more technical terms and explanations that Teal neither cared about nor understood. He lifted his broom about a foot off the ground, then laid across it as easily as if it were several inches wider, and drifted over to Astrid.

“What are you writing?” he asked, having been curious for some time now. She had already filled up several pages with whatever it was just since they had gotten outside.

“Just my journal. I haven’t written anything for a few days, and I want to make sure I have everything that happens this summer. I want to remember it forever.”

“Cool... Can I read it?”

“It’s... kind of private, Teal. No offense! It’s just, journals are only supposed to be read by the person who writes them, that way they’re free to express their thoughts, even the ones that they’re not sure about or don’t want other people to see,” she explained, as if talking to a young child.

“Oh. Why do you want to remember your thoughts?”

“Well... lots of reasons! I guess for me... mainly so I can remember what I was thinking when certain things happened, and stuff like that. But, also so one day, when I’m older, I can read back over this and see how much I’ve grown up and changed. Like a mental chart, almost!”

Teal made no verbal reply, but stared off into the distance, contemplating this new information. He had seen Astrid writing in books many times before at school, but he had never thought twice about it. He had always figured they were notes for classes or something of the like. This seemed to make sense, though: what she was saying. Teal wondered if maybe he should start a journal. He knew he had already learned a lot in the past year, but it was hard to remember exactly what. It would be neat to be able to look back and see. Then again, he didn’t like writing nearly as much as Astrid... He would have to think about it.

Over the course of their two weeks at Astrid’s house, Teal also tried his hand at tennis, which he turned out to be, unsurprisingly, not very good at. Like with bowling, he had to be taught everything about the game, as he was fairly certain he had never even heard of it before, and definitely didn’t know how to play. Once again, Jenson ended up being the best of the three friends, but didn’t play quite as much as Astrid and Teal, as he had begun taking some flying lessons from Astrid’s dad.

When it got dark outside, Teal would take every opportunity to lie in Astrid’s backyard and look up at the star-filled sky. It was the only thing their two houses had in common. Every single thing about the two buildings and their surroundings was completely different, but they had the same beautiful sky.

“I like the stars, too,” came Astrid’s soft voice, suddenly, one night. Teal must have been caught in a fantasy because he hadn’t noticed her join him. After the initial scare of her sudden presence, he turned his head to the side to look at her. She was mimicking his position, eyes glued to the giant glittering canvas above them.

“They’re really beautiful,” Teal replied after a second, turning his attention upwards again.

“Yeah... that’s one of the reasons I like them. They’re so magical. So full of dazzling mystery. Each one is so bright that we can see it from lightyears away.” She let out a content sigh. “They remind me of my dream: to be a famous journalist. I’m gonna be more famous than Rita Skeeter herself: that crazy, old bat. There won’t be a Witch or Wizard alive who hasn’t read at least one of my articles. I’ll be everyone’s number one source for honest information. And one day, when I’ve finally reached my potential, I’ll be shining so bright that every star in the sky will weep with envy... it’s gonna be awesome!”

“That’s a really big dream.”

“Yeah... I know.”

A peaceful silence fell, only to be disturbed by the sound of padded footsteps a few moments later. Jenson collapsed on the other side of Teal. “What are you guys talking about?”

“The stars,” Astrid answered, her smile evident through her words.

“I should have guessed,” Jenson replied with a smile of his own. “Did you know that, as far away as the stars are, it takes their light so long to reach us that some of them have already died, and what we’re seeing now is not even there any more? We’re literally looking at the past.”

“I know!” Astrid replied, clearly upset as she pushed herself up on her elbows to look at Jenson. “I used to think stars lived forever!”

“Nothing lives forever,” Jenson replied calmly. “Everything has to die at some point: people, animals, the earth, the stars... marriages.”

Your heart, Teal thought.

“Wow...” Astrid replied after a few seconds of silence. “Way to make everything super depressing.” She laid back down and the three friends continued to stare up at the sky.

“It’s just a simple fact... everything dies eventually.”

“My parents died...”


Astrid and Jenson turned to look at Teal simultaneously.

“I’m sorry, Teal,” Jenson replied softly.

Teal turned to look at him, his brow furrowed. “Why? You didn’t kill them.”

“Well... no, but, I’m sorry that it happened.”

“We both are,” Astrid added, slipping her hand into his.

“Oh...” Teal turned back to the sky again. “I don’t even remember them.”

“What does your godmother say about them?” Astrid asked.

“She doesn’t... she doesn’t like to talk about them. I don’t know why. I think maybe she’s just sad that they’re gone. They were friends, and now they’re gone. She just tells me that they were good people, and that I should be proud to be their son. ‘They died an honorable death’... I’m not really sure what that means.”

“Honorable is like when-”

“Astrid,” Jenson interrupted her. “I don’t think that’s what he meant...”

“Oh...”

Another silence fell, this one longer and less peaceful than the first. They just laid there, looking at the stars, reminding them each of different things: beginnings and endings, the past and the future, loss and gain. And so the silence continued in this fashion, seeming to last for both an eternity and a matter of seconds, before the sound of Mr. Burkeheart’s voice brought them back to the present.

“Okay, kids! Time for bed! You need to be rested for our trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow so I don’t have to drag around three tiny, sleepless bodies!”

With one last, longing look at the sky, the three friends picked themselves up off of the soft lawn and shuffled into the house. They hugged each other goodnight and then made for their respective rooms, doing their best to clear their busy minds. Tomorrow was a big day.

“Well, that should be everything I need for tomorrow.”

Jenson glanced at his bedside table, to where the tiny figurine stood guard.  Roughly 4 inches tall, it resembled Jenson most uncannily, down to his sloppy, dark hair and his magnanimous mandible.  Even its glasses, which were thankfully not removable, looked just like his own.  That Teal had crafted this from memory…impressed wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Jenson was feeling.
Fascinated? Perhaps that was it.  Either way, Teal’s mental imagery must be top-notch to have done this without something to work from…even a photograph.

I wonder what else he can do with such a powerful imagination…

Jenson, now that he had finished all of his muggle schoolwork and was nearly finished with his Hogwarts summer work, had also finished reading his first year text books as well as several books that Hermione had lent him by owl, including some advanced spellwork books.  Among the reading, he had come across a spell called the ‘Patronus’ charm, which was said to repel Dementors, a creature of intensely foul magic.

It required a ‘feeling or memory of extreme elation and exuberance.’  The more vivid the recollection or thought, the more powerful the charm.  So for an artist with a vivid imagination…

Speaking of elation, Jenson glanced back around his room.  The bed, a queen-sized monstrosity with four carefully carved posts and darker-than-Ravenclaw-blue drapes, was strategically placed so that whoever was in it could glance out the window and see a low, tree-covered hill in the distance which, Jenson had learned, offered a marvelous view of the sunrise. Jenson figured that Eli must have done that. Anson didn’t seem like the type to worry about trivial matters such as an exquisite view to wake up to in the morning.  The room also had a rather large television and stereo system, which Jenson had yet to use.

That seemed more Anson’s decorative style, Jenson mused.

The rest of the furniture was remarkably understated compared to the rest of the house – dark wood finishes, perhaps cherry, thick carpet to match the bed drapes, bronze trim along the tops and bottoms of cream-colored walls…all in all, it was very warm and comfortable.

I wonder if this is what my life would have been like if…

No.  

It did no good to dwell on the past.

Jenson had been surprised to find that, other than obvious opulence, Astrid and her family lived like American Muggles rather than wizards.  He had yet to see Anson pick up a wand, although Jenson knew that he and Eli had spent considerable time and magic setting up Astrid’s party. And Eli used magic very sparingly, preferring, apparently, to use his hands for menial labor.

Astrid, on the other hand, used magic whenever she could get away with it, but it was almost always for chores and similar menial tasks.  Eli had told them, while Anson was putting out a fire he had made making ice-cream, that Anson had no talent for domestic magic, so they had agreed to do things by hand to ‘build character’ (a phrase used by adults that Jenson noticed always had something to do with boring, tedious, unpaid physical labor).  Astrid was also supposed to abide by this rule, but always managed to get away with it, somehow.

Jenson yawned and scratched his belly sleepily.  Tomorrow, they would be going back to Diagon Alley.  Jenson perked up at the thought as, unlike last time, he would be accompanied by friends instead of a Hogwarts official who spoke no more than the barest essentials.  He would get to explore a little more of the wizarding world and, hopefully, buy something interesting with a little bit of his leftover gold from the school funds…maybe a hat for Ezra, he thought jokingly.  He glanced at her empty cage next to the bed, sitting on a side table within arm’s reach of where Jenson usually slept.  He had been letting her out for several hours a day, allowing her plenty of exercise to stay in good shape, especially while hunting at night.

He would never dress his feathered friend in clothes…people who did that were…come to think of it, Jenson was pretty sure he had remembered seeing Nipsy dressed in hats and/or sweaters before.

On that note, I believe that I shall go to bed.

It was a warm night and he was on the second floor, so he left the window open for Ezra to come back in at her leisure.  

Turning out the lights,  he took a running leap into the bed, sighing in satisfaction as the incredibly soft sheets and comforter enveloped him.

“Nom, nom, nom…” he mumbled sleepily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look at the crowd at Flourish and Blotts!” Jenson said with a groan, rubbing his temples dramatically and he stared at the huge line of assorted witches and wizards in front of the magical bookshop.  “There must be over 60 people outside alone!”

“I wonder what’s going on in there?” Eli muttered curiously, eyeing the school list for the 13th time that morning, by Jenson’s count. “Say Anson, have you noticed all of the Gilderoy Lockhart books on this year’s list?  I mean, besides new quills, robes and a few other basic supplies, they’re really the only thing really changed from last year’s supplies.  Don’t you find that odd?”

“Maybe the DADA professor gets some sort of kickback from Lockhart’s sales,” Anson said with a grimace, eyeing the crowd somewhat suspiciously.  Eli looked equally grave.

“I would think that Dumbledore would frown on that sort profiteering.”

“Who is Gilderoy Lockhart?” Teal asked, eyeing the large crowd nervously.  Since he’d been pretty isolated all summer, it was certainly understandable.  Jenson hated crowds too.

“He’s this pretty wizard who claims to have done all of these amazing things and he’s written books about them all,” Astrid said without looking up, playing with Nipsy down by her feet. “Personally, I find it all a bit hard to believe. One or two, sure okay…but he’s got at least seven books on our list that I know of.”

“He’s not prettier than me,” Anson said with a smirk, earning an eye-roll from both Eli and Jenson who, over the last week or so, had noticed that Anson loved to be contrary for the sake of being contrary.  Then again, both he and Eli were quite good-looking, so he may have been seriously offended by his daughter’s flippant statement.

“Of course not, daddy…” Astrid said with a sigh and an air of hearing this sort of thing many times before.  Teal was silent, perhaps not even paying them any attention as he appeared to have turned his attention to a small shop near the back of the line.  Its dusty sign was almost unreadable from this distance, but there was what looked to be a frog or toad next to the shop’s name.

“Besides,” continued Anson, “if Lockhart’s done half the things he says he has, I’ll eat my hat.”

“You don’t own a hat,” Eli reminded him, “you don’t like hat hair, remember?”

“Well then, I’ll buy a hat and chew on it for a while.”

Eli rubbed his temples tiredly.  

“Let’s just get in line, shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Holy crap…” Jenson murmured as he looked at the price of the, well, “textbook” in front of him.  From skimming throughout it, it seemed more like a piece of work by a popular muggle author, R. L. Stein – it and its brothers in the series each bore a catchy title (this one read Holidays with Hags) and were only about 100 or so pages long.  Unlike their muggle-esque counterparts, they were relatively expensive.

“5 galleons and 8 sickles for this?  For this?!  They must be bonkers…” he whispered.  Beside him, Teal nodded, eyes wide and expression fretful.  Like Jenson, he was sure to be calculating the total costs of these books alone. “Blimey…that’s going to be…over 38 galleons!”

Jenson and Teal exchanged looks.  Jenson thought that he had a little more money than Teal, but not that much more.  

“My godmother told me that you could sometimes find books second-hand.  A few of mine were, last year.”

Jenson’s eyes widened in surprise.  When he had been escorted that year by the Hogwarts official, he had not even mentioned this to Jenson. He had simply pointed out the books he needed and ushered Jenson to the checkout.  

This changed everything.  If there was something that Jenson knew how to do, it was bargain hunt.

“Come on Teal,” Jenson said, heading off to find a store employee, “let’s go bargain bingeing.”  

Astrid was perusing through a multitude of other books with her dads, piling them into Eli’s and Anson’s arms while they tried to talk her out of some of them.  Money wasn’t going to be an issue there, so this would be Jenson’s and Teal’s adventure…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s better,” Teal said simply, while Jenson agreed silently beside him.  Among their gems was a copy of Gadding with Ghouls marked down to 13 sickles (the final paragraph appeared to have been licked off of the paper, leaving behind a large inky smudge), two copies of Voyages with Vampires for less than a galleon each (each of their edges appeared to have been chewed on a some point in their lifetimes) and their prized find: Lockhart’s Break with a Banshee for 3 sickles and 14 knuts – The only problem that they could find with it seemed to be that the Gilderoy Lockhart in its cover was sporting what appeared to be a rather sizeable mole that it was trying, quite unsuccessfully, to hide.  Lockhart’s other books, they found for about half of their normal prices.

They agreed to split the costs of their books together, since some of the books were found cheaper than others.  Jenson took the more bedraggled copies for himself.

“I can always use Hermione’s copy if I have a problem,” he assured Teal as they made their way back to Astrid, Anson and Eli.  “Heck, she may know a spell to fix my copies, knowing her.”  

He and Teal spotted Eli’s blond hair through the dense crowd between two aisles – one which held an assortment of impressively detailed planetariums and models, and the other which appeared to hold various types of cauldrons.  It was these that appeared to be holding Astrid’s and Anson’s attention while Eli looked up and noticed Jenson and Teal’s approach.  

“Oh good, there you two are,” Eli said as they approached. “We were worried you two might leave without us.”  His fears were not really unfounded.  They had waited for almost an hour to get into Flourish and Blotts and it was quite crowded in here still. “We found out why it’s so crowded in here. Gilderoy Lockhart is signing autographs this week.  He’ll be here any minute.”

In their quest for bargains, Teal and Jenson had not paid much attention to their surroundings. Now that he cared to look, Jenson realized that much of the shop was occupied by witches in their early- to mid- adulthood. He also noticed a number of them giving Eli and/or Anson appreciating glances, but he decided not to draw attention to it.  

Astrid, trying to convince Anson that she needed a Self-Stirring, Perfect-Temperature charmed, bronze cauldron, suddenly straightened up upon hearing this news.

“I should corner him and get an interview,” she practically yelled, a manic gleam in her eye.  Nipsy, whom she had been holding, looked startled by her outburst and back-flipped in her hands, slipping out of her grasp and onto the ground.  She quickly darted at and up Anson’s leg.

“Cat!” he shouted, scooping Nipsy with one hand off of his thigh and through the air, into Eli’s waiting arms.

Jenson and Teal applauded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I still say we should have stayed and let me interview him.  It would be a great experience for my future as a Journalist.”  

Astrid pouted slightly as Madam Malkin’s measured her across the shoulders, an enchanted quill jotting down her measurements off to the side.

“Well, Teal and I, Teal especially, needed to get to get our robes fitted before lunch.  And Anson and Eli wanted to go to Twilfitt and Tatting’s for their own robes and they couldn’t miss their appointment, could they?”  Jenson yawned as the magical measuring tape measured his inseam.

“We could always go back, if you wanted to,” Teal said, standing straight as his own measuring tape measured him axilla to ankle.

Astrid hemmed and hawed over this suggestion.  Before she came to her answer, Madam Malkin straightened up again and retrieved her wand and the list of measurements.

“I’ll have them ready by one.  Will that be all dearies?”

“Yes ma’am.  And thank you ever so much,” Jenson said cheerfully as they started to leave.

“Wait…Edgar!” Teal said with a start, turning back just in time to see him emerge from the chest pocket of the robe Madam Malkin had given him to try on.

“Good heavens!” She screamed with a start, holding the robe out from her like it was on fire.  Teal ran forward to snag his beloved pet.

Teal was about three feet away when Edgar gave a mighty leap and landed *plop,* right on Teal’s forehead.  He smiled sheepishly at the seamstress as he gently grabbed the tree frog and placed him on his shoulder.

“Sorry about that…”

Giving them the evil eye, Madam Malkin walked them to the door and, after they had left, flipped the OPEN sign to say OUT FOR A SPELL.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m just saying, you should really consider playing on the team, Jenson.  You’d love it!”

“Astrid, I don’t have a broom.  Plus, I’ve never played before.  What makes you think I’d be any good?”

Teal remained silent as he looked through the tiny shop.  He had not so much dragged Astrid and Jenson inside so much as given them a look that said how-often-do-I-ask-for-things? They were compelled to follow him inside of what, by all appearances, was a shop specializing in amphibians and reptile care.  Aquariums filled with newts, turtles, snakes, toads, and species that Jenson did not recognize, filled all of the shelves eye-level and above.  Below them were various treats, McMeera’s Scale Shine, Gabbing Gertrude’s All Purpose Wart Remover and Producer and all manner of crazy-looking gadgets whose function Jenson could only guess at.  While Teal searched the shop for who knew what, Astrid was trying to convince Jenson to be the new Ravenclaw Beater for the upcoming Hogwart’s quidditch season and beyond.

“Look, my dad said you had plenty of raw talent for it and he’s a really good judge at these kinds of things.  I mean, he’s been a Keeper for over 20 years!  He knows talent when he sees it.  Plus, it will look good on your resume down the road: leadership, team-building and things like that.”

“Well, yeah, I guess, but-“

“Oh, Teal! What have you got there?” Astrid asked, eyes wide as she turned her attention to the small bag he was carrying back to them.  Jenson became likewise curious.  Teal rarely purchased anything Jenson would call frivolous.  

“Well…” Teal said, reaching into the bag, “Edgar got cold last winter so…”

“Oh my Rowling!” Astrid squealed as Teal’s purchase emerged from its packaging.  “That is the cutest thing I have ever seen!”

A tiny, tree frog-sized, fur-lined hoodie.  Jenson could only imagine the expression on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quality Quidditch Supplies, while not quite as packed as Flourish and Blott’s had been, was teaming with school-age witches and wizards and younger, all gawking at the newest broom models and various other quidditch items.  The biggest display, the display for the Nimbus 2001, was five to six people deep around it and Jenson was unwilling to muscle his way to the front to check it out.

“0-90 kmph in 5.4 seconds.  Anti-Theft charm, Anti-Inertal-Breaking charm…” Teal read aloud over the heads of the others.

Then again, maybe Jenson would not need to muscle his way to the front after all.

“Hey Teal,” he whispered to the taller boy, “can you see the price tag on that thing?” Teal nodded solemnly. “How much?”

“220.”

Jenson felt his knees almost buckle.  “Galleons?”

Teal nodded again as Jenson calculated in his head.  He was given a little over 30 galleons a year by the Hogwarts’ public funds for supplies.  This broomstick cost more than his entire seven year Hogwart’s education budget.

“Well, I guess that idea’s out,” muttered Jenson as he walked over to the other supplies to look at a beautiful, walnut, Beater’s bat with a Sure-Grip charm to prevent precipitation and/or perspiration from loosening the Beater’s grasp.  Even this was, to Jenson, quite expensive.  He would settle for window shopping.

Although she had not yet learned how to Apparate, Astrid appeared at his side silently and suddenly.

“So,” she squealed excitedly, “what do you think?  Isn’t this place the bomb?”  Nipsy, who now sat on her shoulder, eyed Jenson with a slight air of contempt before leaping to his shoulder and climbing atop his head.

“Yeah,” Jenson agreed, “The bomb.  I just wish it wasn’t so expensive…” he grumbled, turning back to gaze longingly at the beautifully dark, polished wood and the gold script along the handle.  

Above his head, he heard a humming, buzzing sound and, when he looked up, spotted a snitch whirling and darting overhead.  He glared at it for a second before Astrid bumped him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Oh cheer up, Jenson!  You haven’t even seen your birthday present from me yet.”  She bit her lip as if to keep the secret from literally tumbling  out of her mouth.  Jenson’s expression softened.

“Oh Astrid…you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Oh, but w- I wanted to!  Speaking of which…” she said, glancing over at the clock on the wall, “It’s time for dinner!”  She grabbed Jenson’s arm and rushed over to Teal, grabbing him likewise by the wrist and dragging them to the door.  As they exited, they ran into Draco Malfoy and his goons…literally.

“Jesus, Burkeheart…watch where you’re going, eh?” Draco sneered, peeling himself off of Goyle’s chest where he had bounced off of Astrid. Astrid, who had bounced off of Draco, ricocheted between Teal and Jenson. She regained her bearings while Draco brushed off the front of his robes.  Jenson snorted while Teal, who appeared to be having a staring contest with Crabbe, was silent.  Jenson did not really have any hard feelings towards Malfoy…not yet at least.  But, he could be insufferably haughty and bitingly sarcastic.  Although, it could be worse…

Astrid, having regained her senses, flashed Draco and his cronies a smile.  

“Sorry Draco, no time to talk!”  She pulled Jenson and Teal passed him and down Diagon Alley’s twisted streets, calling back over her shoulder, “See you on the Hogwarts express!”

“Hey, wait a minute-” Draco called out before they lost him around a bend in the street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, did everyone enjoy their day?” Eli asked smoothly, twirling a brandy around in a glass.  Anson, who appeared completely enthralled in his menu, was mumbling to himself behind it.

Before Teal or Jenson could say a word, Astrid excitedly described the entirety of their day together.  After Eli told her to take a moment to breathe and figure out what she was ordering, Jenson, and sometimes Teal, described their bargain hunting adventure and, more importantly, their run-in with Malfoy (which Astrid had neglected to mention).  From the redness of her face and the glare she shot Jenson, she had apparently not wanted to share that particular story. Even Anson glanced over his menu at the mention of the Slytherin boy.

“I hope you played nicely with your housemates, Astrid.  I would hate to receive a letter from Professor Snape this semester...” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, then immediately glanced back at his menu to avoid his daughter’s glare.

“Daddy…” she whined.

“Oh, before we forget,” Eli, reaching under the table to draw out a satchel about the size of a handbag, “we have something for both Jenson and Teal…late birthday presents.”

At this, Astrid began to clap excitedly and Anson, who had been flagging down a waitress for his drink order, immediately set his attention on the two of them.

“For Jenson…we’d like to sponsor your quidditch needs.”

Jenson, who was completely caught off guard by the sudden change in the direction of conversation, was speechless.

“I- I’m not su-…” he started, not sure what to say.

“But first,” continued Eli, “you’ll be needing one of these…”

He reached into the bag and drew out a long, midnight blue bag that was much larger than the bag he was drawing it from.  The larger, blue bag appeared to be made of a felt or velvety material.  Still unable to form coherent speech, Jenson took the larger bag from Eli, hefting it in his hands.

Apparently amused by Jenson’s shocked expression, Anson spoke up, a not-unkind smirk on his face.

“You’re going to want to open that one up, too.”

Astrid, watching Jenson’s expression intently, shhed her dad and waved away his commentary flippantly.  

Jenson opened the drawstring clasp and reaching in, felt his heart thud in his temples as his fingers curled around a smooth, polished surface.  Slowly drawing whatever it was from its velvety sack, Jenson was glad that he was sitting down.

A Nimbus 2001 lay in his lap, its dark, polished handle gleaming in the restaurant’s dim candlelight.  He traced the gold leaf lettering of the model name, a lump forming in his throat.  He couldn’t accept this.  It was too much.  As he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Eli put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’d like to talk to you more about this later, if that’s alright Jenson.  You don’t have to make your decision yet.”  He turned his attention back to Teal. “And for you, Mr. Andrews…”  He picked up the satchel he had drawn Jenson’s broom sack from.  It was a handsome bag.  Made of what looked to be a dark, supple leather material, it looked like what, in America, was called a “messenger bag,” but smaller.  It looked like it couldn’t hold anything much larger than a large textbook, but that apparently was not the case.

“This satchel contains an enchantment that allows it to hold much, much more than it looks like it can…” Eli started, looking to Anson to continue.

“Right…it’s like this: if it fits through the opening, it can go in the bag.  It’s not limitless, but it can hold at least as much as our attic. Probably.”

Jenson, who was just now recovering from the shock of his gift, felt his brain melting in his skull.  They had created an alternate space, an almost literal Bag of Holding, and were giving it as a birthday gift.  He had reached his limit for incredibility that day.

Teal, looking not quite as shocked as Jenson (but possibly only because Teal seemed to have very tight control over his emotions), accepted the gift quietly as Astrid cheered to his right.  He looked at the bag, back to Eli, back to the bag, to Anson, back to the bag, and finally to Astrid.

“Thank you…thank you very, very much.  This is…wonderful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Jeevas,” Jenson started, trying to put into words how generous he thought that Astrid and her dads were being without sounding ungrateful, “I can’t accept this broom.  It’s too much.”

“It’s Eli, please, Jenson.  And if you’re going to play quidditch, you’re going to want a good broom.  I understand it seems like a lot, but this isn’t truly that uncommon.”  Eli put a hand on Jenson’s shoulder and they walked across their backyard to a gazebo with benches.  He motioned for Jenson to take a seat and sat himself on the bench across from him.  “When I received my first broom and played for the Hufflepuff house quidditch team, it was a gift from a family friend.  I didn’t come from a wealthy family, Jenson,” Eli said, his voice heavy with wistful recollection, “but they saw talent in me and wanted to give me the chance to succeed.  I would like to take this opportunity to ‘pay it forward,’ as it were.”

“But Mr. J- but Eli, what if I’m no good?  What if I don’t make the team?”  Jenson turned his gaze to the trees behind Eli, unable to look him in the eye. “What if I’m not good enough?  What if your generosity is wasted by my ineptitude?”  Jenson hated himself for tearing up, but he could not keep the lump from his throat any more than he could keep the moisture from leaking into his tear ducts.  Eli grabbed both of Jenson’s shoulders.

“Jenson, look at me.”  Jenson turned his gaze to meet Eli’s only through the greatest force of will.  Another part of him wanted to burrow into the dirt where he sat and hide. “I have never, ever considered generosity of any sort a waste.  I just want to give you an opportunity to excel.  I want to give you this opportunity because, unlike many others, I know how much you will appreciate it and I know that you have the chance to do something great with it.  From everything Astrid has told us, and from everything Anson and I have seen, you and Teal are two exceptional young men and we would like to aid you in your education and possible future endeavors.  Will you let us do that, Jenson?  Will you let us assist you so that, one day, you may be able to do the same for another young boy or girl?  Because that is one of the greatest gifts you can give another human being – a chance.  An opportunity.”

“Eli!” Anson called from the back porch, “You’re going to talk the boy’s ears off!  Come back inside so he can make a smore or something!”

Eli sighed.

“I love that man, but his timing is absolutely dreadful.”  Jenson smiled, wiping his eyes.

“Okay Eli…I’ll do it…”