A Wizard in OUR Family?





“Grandpa?" called little Deena Anderson, sidling up to her aged grandfather."Did you hear what Kenneth is saying? He says he's going to a different school!"





Eight year old Deena Anderson was confused. Her cousin had always gone with her to her school. It was the school their whole family had gone to. Now why was Kenneth suddenly so keen to change schools? Didn’t he like it at St. Peter’s anymore?





“He told you that, did he?” said Deena’s grandfather, the Sir Marvin Anderson, one of the most well-known writers in Britain.





“Yes,” said Deena, frowning. “But why’s he going to go to a different school? We’ve always gone to school together.”





Her grandfather sucked deeply on his pipe, perhaps to gain time before answering the questions the little girl was shooting at him.





“He… he has got admission in a different school, my dear,” explained Sir Marvin. “It’s a bit too complicated to explain to you… you wouldn’t understand.”





Deena scowled. Her grandfather, the person who understood her the most in her family was telling her the line she loathed hearing, and she told him so, receiving a peal of hearty laughter in response.





“All right, all right,” said Sir Marvin. He dropped his voice to a conspirational whisper. “You see, we’ve found out that Kenneth can do magic! So… he has to go to a school where he can learn to do it well. Abracadabra!”





He laughed loudly again as though he’d said something very funny. His granddaughter did not join him in his moment of mirth.





“You’re lying,” she accused him bluntly. “I know you are. You just told an untruth. You know what happens to people who tell untruths. You’ve told me loads and loads of times.”





Sir Marvin blinked. At times, he had to admit that his own grand-daughter caught him completely off guard. He could not digest the fact that this bold little girl was the shy child he had taught everything to, told stories to, and played games with. At other times, he wondered how Kenneth, whom he’d also taught on his knee, was so different from this dynamic young girl. He was a moody, but no less intelligent, boy who liked to keep to himself. Sir Marvin had hoped and hoped that these two children, his own grandchildren, would take after him, and become prominent figures in the field of literature. He had bred that thought in them right from a very young age. His own two sons, Geraint and Thomas, both business men, would sometimes look upon this with incredulity. Both sons and their wives fully intended to take their children into business with them. But the letter which had arrived for Kenneth two weeks earlier had opened up an entirely new realm of possibilities for him. Sir Marvin was stoutly against sending the boy to that unheard-of school. And so were his sons and daughters-in-law.





But Kenneth thought differently. By no means did he want to miss out on this exciting, new opportunity. The arrival of the letter, coupled with the visit from the magnificent headmaster of the school, who had explained everything to the dubious family, led to a huge change in him. The Anderson family witnessed his transformation from the quiet, sulky boy to an enthusiastic, eager, bubbling one. And they were quite stunned by this change. Kenneth had never really had a lot of enthusiasm for the things they taught at St. Peter's. He did not share his little cousin's love for the school. He was just eleven, but he already thought that his education was turning too monotonous.This new Kenneth wanted to attend the wizarding school. And what this new Kenneth wanted, he would get. By hook or by crook. He didn’t have to do anything rash, though.





Just a few days after the arrival of That Letter (as everyone now called it), Kenneth’s parents held a quiet, serious conference behind the closed doors of the living room they shared with the whole family. They invited Deena’s parents too, to help them resolve their indecision. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but Sir Marvin was attending a dinner party hosted by one of his literary friends, and he was left out of the conference, undeniably on purpose, much to his indignation, by Kenneth’s parents. No doubt they had kept him out of it for fear of having to take part in a new row about the possibilities a career in literature posed for the children.





Strangely, it did not seem to strike the grandfather or the two sets of parents that the children were still aged eight and eleven, or that they had ample time to choose their careers, or that whatever they thought or said might not have any effect on the children’s ultimate decision.





So anyhow, Geraint and Lydia decided to let Kenneth have his way in the end, as they knew from the beginning they would. Secretly, they were very pleased and excited inside and unconsciously poured their love on Kenneth. Perhaps because they were unsure of the outcome of this decision, they maintained a distantly happy exterior, and at times, sighed and said how they had hoped Kenneth would turn out to be a successful businessman just like his father and his Uncle Thomas. Eventually, a reluctant Sir Marvin came to terms with Geraint and Lydia’s infamous decision. He still had hope left that at least his other grandchild, Deena, would follow in his footsteps. Poor little Deena looked on from the sidelines, bewildered and completely not understanding why Kenneth was to change schools so suddenly.





Deena absently nudged her grandfather's slippered foot with her toe and he was jerked out of his reverie.





"I know you're lying to me... You're sending Kenneth to a different school because he doesn't like going to St. Peter's with me. Isn't that it?"





“I’m certainly not lying, Deena!” exclaimed Sir Marvin in response to her accusation. “Don’t talk to poor old Grandpa like that. Our Kenneth’s going to a magic school because he can do magic. It will do a whole lot of good to him. He will like it there, like the way you like it at St. Peter’s. So don’t you fret!”





“Why can’t I go as well? If Kenneth can do magic, then so can I. I want to change schools too!”





Sir Marvin sighed. Dear God, he thought. Why me? Why my grandkids?





“Dee, you can do magic as well. I’m not saying you can’t. But Kenneth’s magic is different. He has to go to school for it,” he told her. “Everybody can’t be like everybody. You can’t be like him. You must be like me! You can become a writer like me…”





There was a loud cough from the kitchen, no doubt from Deena’s mother, Carrie. Sir Marvin threw a murderous glance in the direction of the kitchen and turned back to Deena, who was swinging her legs faster and faster on the high wooden chair she was sitting on.





He plunged on.





“There’s nothing better than it, Dee,” said Sir Marvin, his eyes growing misty. “None of this messy business management. I made a huge, huge mistake, my child, letting my kids get into it…”





He rewarded the kitchen door, which hid Carrie behind it with another very annoyed glance as though it was her fault Thomas and Geraint had decided to set up their leather business. Sir Marvin knew perfectly well that their business was not a silly occupation, and his sons and daughters-in-law knew perfectly well that writing was not a soft occupation as they claimed. It was just the fact that they were almost always at loggerheads at each other which made them stoutly say so. Sir Marvin’s sons and their wives also knew perfectly well where to draw the line when they were squabbling with the old man, just as they knew perfectly well that his bank account was overflowing with cash.





“I’m going to become a news person,” announced Deena suddenly, out of the blue, jerking awake Sir Marvin, who was on the verge of dropping off to sleep. Carrie darted out of the kitchen. The two of them stared, horrified, at the child, who was now observing her fingernails with mild interest.





Dear Lord… thought Sir Marvin.

---

The Anderson family reached King’s Cross safely on the first of September with Sir Marvin and Deena tagging along rather reluctantly owing to their disappointment at this turn in Kenneth’s education. Neither of them was really willing to let him go out of their clutches, but of course, they had absolutely no say in the matter. And so, the five adults and two children arrived at the station a good half-hour early before they had to Kenneth proudly led his family inside, pushing the new trunk with all the necessary items he’d bought at Diagon Alley when he had gone there with is nervous parents, in a trolley.





The trip to the place had been a truly incredible experience for him and his parents. Awestruck, both Geraint and Lydia had whole-heartedly agreed that having a wizard in the family was going to be a new and wonderful experience for them. They were very eager to help their son start his magical education with a bang. Their only regret was that they had to maintain absolutely secrecy. They couldn’t breathe a word about it to anyone outside of their immediate family. At times, Lydia wistfully day-dreamed of how good it would have felt to invite her neighbors, the Greenes, to tea and show off her son’s new found talent, if all this secrecy nonsense had not been there. Perhaps she could have even invited the Simons. Lydia hated it when Mrs. Simon invited her over just to show off her Doug’s gold medals and swimming trophies and to ask sweetly if Kenneth participated in any sports, when she was well aware that he didn’t.





Unfortunately, That Letter had warned, no threatened, them that if a word of Kenneth’s abilities got out, he would be immediately expelled. Hmph! The insolence of it! That administration was lucky to get such a great student like Kenneth to teach, according to Lydia.





“Hurry up, Kenneth,” called Geraint. “You’re going to be late!”





“No, he isn’t. It’s still very early,” snapped Lydia. “Kenneth, look at the platform number on the ticket, darling.”





Kenneth grimaced at her and pulled the ticket for the Hogwarts Express out of his pocket.





“It’s platform nine and three-quarters,” he said with a blank expression on his face. “Excuse me? I thought it was just nine! Three-quarters?”





Geraint pulled it out of his hand and examined it.





“Why, yes, it is!” he exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no such thing!”





Sir Marvin coughed. “These people are mad, I tell you, and you go believe them? You should have listened to me when I said all this nonsense will end in a fiasco.”





“Look at the letter,” Carrie urged Kenneth. “Maybe it says something about it. I remember reading something about platforms.”





Kenneth pulled the piece of parchment out of his other pocket. “Oh, yeah!” he exclaimed. “It says to run into the barrier between platforms nine and ten to enter platform nine and three-quarters. See?”





Sir Marvin guffawed. “It looks like these people have an idiotic sense of humor. Really!”





“Oh, I’m sure it must be right if it says so,” said Thomas.





Deena walked up to the barrier and started patting all over it with her palms.





“There’s no door!” she announced. “How can he go through it if there’s no door? Kenneth’s gonna break his nose.”





She laughed icily. Serve him right for wanting to leave St. Peter’s, she thought severely. Stupid traitor.





“Kenneth, just do it,” said an exasperated Geraint. “Run at the barrier, as it says.”





“I am not letting him run into a wall,” Lydia said loudly, clutching her son’s shoulders protectively. “Really, Gerry, what if he hurts himself on his first day at the new school?”





“Lydia, he’s not like you and me. He won’t-”





Kenneth cut his father short by pulling himself out of his mother’s grasp and dashing towards the barrier, pushing his trolley with him. The whole family gaped, as the boy simply passed through it as though there was nothing solid at all. After a minute of stunned silence, Lydia rushed towards the wall and started banging hard on it. “KENNETH! KENNY! ARE YOU OK, DEAR?”





Some of the passers-by glanced amusedly at the brunette feeling the wall frantically, and calling out for a boy. What on earth was she doing? Geraint smiled weakly at them and tried to pull his wife away from the barrier.





Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, Kenneth stood rooted to the spot, dumb-struck at the sight of the Hogwarts Express. There were several others on the platform, who looked his age, standing around and talking with their families. They were all obviously magical. He had made it. Phew.





His mother’s frantic shouts jerked him out of his reverie. He turned a deep read as the other kids stared at him curiously. He darted back through the wall and ran straight into his mother’s arms.





“Honestly, Mum,” he said exasperatedly, wriggling out of her grip. “Shut up, it’s perfectly OK.”





Lydia’s eyes widened with shock. She seemed to have lost her power of speech temporarily.





And then, the whole family, including his grandfather and little cousin rushed towards him, shaking him and mussing up his hair, asking him how he’d done it, and if it was all right there. Kenneth grinned uneasily, and replied that yes, there were others there, and it was perfectly safe. His father and uncle kept clapping him on the back, saying how proud they were of him. His mother and aunt kept giving him hugs, and wished him luck, also telling him how proud they were of him.





In the end, Kenneth said that it was nearly eleven and that he simply had to leave or he would miss the train. Lydia burst into tears at this announcement.





“Oh, Kenny, you’re growing up to be such a big boy!” she sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her spotless white handkerchief. “I'll miss you so much, sweetie... We all will.”





Kenneth grinned uncomfortably and said goodbye, desperate to get away. He hated goodbyes, especially tearful ones such as this. He smoothly walked into the barrier and disappeared.





The Anderson family swallowed hard in unison. They were not going to see this boy for quite a few months. How they wished they hadn’t been so nasty to him at some point or the other when they lived together!





A strangled screech broke the silence that was sinking into them. For there was Mrs. Simon, gaping at the barrier, at them, and back at the barrier, and opening and closing her mouth repeatedly like a goldfish.





“Did I just see… did Kenneth just… disappear into a wall?”





Geraint laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, Mrs. Simon, you must be seeing things. Kenneth’s just gone to visit a friend of his in Yorkshire by the last train.”





Mrs. Simon didn’t seem to be convinced. One by one the Andersons turned around to leave after one last look at the barrier, and a tiny glance at Mrs. Simon. The woman suddenly decided that she didn’t want to stay there anymore. In her haste, she tripped over her own handbag (which she’d dropped in her shock), grabbed it and hurried away.





On the platform nine and three-quarters, a boy with messy, dark brown hair approached Kenneth.





“Hey,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m Benjy Fenwick. Want to find a compartment together?”





Kenneth grinned and nodded.





As the train slowly crawled out of the station, Kenneth looked out of the window of the compartment he shared with Benjy.





There goes London, he thought solemnly. Good old London.





In the station, Sir Marvin stole a last glance at the barrier into which his grandson had disappeared, from a distance.





There goes one, he thought, what about the other?






The End