Parental Confusion

Dean was being chased.

There were, perhaps, five boys running after him in the grassy and vacant lot in hot pursuit. Dean allowed a bit of a cocky grin to appear on his face – they wouldn’t be able to catch him. He began to run a zigzagging pattern, being careful all the while to keep the football in front of him. Glancing up, Dean saw the outline of the pale and skinny boy who was guarding the goal. Without slowing down, Dean lined up his shot, and gave the ball a vicious kick.

The boy playing goalie didn’t stand a chance. The football flew past his shoulder so fast that he didn’t even have time to react. Dean pumped his fist in victory – that had been his fifth goal today. If he scored two more times, he would break the record that he had set just two months previously.

As everyone paused to catch their breath, Dean wandered over to where the other boys were standing. They were all gathered around something, but Dean couldn’t tell what it was.

“Oy, Dean!� One of the boys who had been chasing him called out.

“Yeah?�

There was a pause before the boy finally admitted, “It’s six-thirty, Dean.� The boy said the phrase almost reluctantly and with the air of breaking awful news.

“Not again!� Dean exclaimed. He let out a tortured breath and clapped a hand to his forehead. The boys all nodded rather sheepishly.

One of the younger boys whom Dean had never really paid attention to piped up nervously. “Stella said if you were late, you could use her window again.�

“How do you know?� Dean asked rather suspiciously.

“I saw her yesterday,� the boy said the words to the grass of the vacant lot rather than to Dean.

Nodding, Dean said, “Sorry mates, I have to go.� They all nodded and watched as he turned and sprinted off down the street.

Just before Dean rounded the corner, he heard a voice call, “I hope your dad don’t catch you!�

Legs pumping madly, Dean fervently hoped that himself.

--

Dean only lived three blocks from the lot where he played football with his friends. He had actually spent most of his summer at the vacant lot, honing his football skills. Dean hoped that by the time school started in another month, he would be talented enough to be on his school team.

Living three blocks away was also handy when Dean was late. His father was a real stickler for curfew. Especially Dean’s curfew. For some reason that Dean couldn’t figure out, his sister Stella, who was a year younger, had never gotten in trouble for being late. And his brother, Jay, who was two years younger, seemed to be his father’s favorite. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time that Jay had gotten in trouble for anything.

Dean slowed down as he reached his house. It was a modest house, with rather tired gray paint and a brick chimney. From across the street, Dean could see that his family was sitting around the dinner table, eating. Dean cursed – he was even later than usual.

Walking in through the front door wasn’t an option – his father would demand an explanation for why he was late. If Dean snuck in through Stella’s window, he could pretend that he had been asleep and had missed the call for dinner.

Mentally patting himself on the back for his excellent plan, Dean hurried across the street to his house. When he reached the yard, he lay down on his front and began to slither, commando-style, across the lawn. Hopefully, no one would see him if he snuck around that way.

When he reached the side of the house, Dean stood up and brushed the dirt off of his blue shirt. Looking up to the second story, he saw that Stella had very kindly left her window open for him. Although it was on the second floor, there was lattice work beneath it on which Dean’s mother grew her flowering vines.

Dean quickly walked over to the white structure, while carefully avoiding the mud puddle that a faulty sprinkler must have made in the grass. He quickly found two handholds in the lattice work and hoisted himself up. The wooden structure groaned with the addition of his weight, but Dean ignored it and began to climb.

Hand, hand.

Foot, foot.

Hand, hand.

Foot, foot.

Hand, hand.

Foot, foot.

It was strenuous work, hauling himself up. In fact, Dean didn’t even realize that he was tired until he had to stop half-way up to catch his breath.

Gasping for air, Dean held on to the creaking wood. Once he was able to breathe again, Dean resumed his climbing.

Hand, hand.

Foot, foot.

Hand, hand.

Foot – CRACK!

Dean had never felt the sensation of falling before. It was a curious feeling – like he was both weightless and extraordinarily heavy at the same time. Time seemed to have stopped and the feeling was endless. Dean was falling, falling, falling…

And then he wasn’t. Dean hadn’t realized that his eyes were closed until he opened them. He was lying in something soft and the sky was a dazzling blue. For a moment, Dean was convinced that he had died and gone to Heaven. He shut his eyes again quickly – if he was truly dead, he didn’t want to see himself.

Then the ground shook. Feeling confused, Dean cracked an eye partially open. He could see a pair of polished black loafers rushing towards him.

“DEAN!� bellowed the owner of the dark and shiny shoes, “What in the world are you doing?�

The shoes stopped several feet away from Dean’s face and he was able to see that another pair of shoes, a pair of blue sandals, were running towards him as well.

“Dean, DEAN! Are you alright? What happened?� His mother did not stop, but instead rushed to his side, bent down, and peered into her son’s face.

Dean looked into his mother’s face – it was full of worry and concern for the well-being of her oldest son.

“I’m alright, Mum,� Dean managed to say. He tried to sit up, but his head felt woozy and his back was wet.

Dean could feel his mother supporting him with one hand and gently patting him with her other, checking for broken bones. His back still felt horribly wet and sticky.

Looking back at his mother, Dean saw that some of the worry had left her eyes. “You seem alright, dear. How do you feel?�

Dean actually felt rather well, considering that he’d just fallen two stories. His back, though, was worrying. It would have taken an enormous injury for it to bleed as much as it was currently.

“Mum?� Dean asked. “How’s my back?�

“It’s fine, don’t worry,� she said soothingly.

Dean figured she must have been lying to save him from the horror of the injury. “Mum,� he replied, “I can take it.�

“I know you can, dear. It’s just a little bit of mud. It will wash out. There’s nothing to worry about.� She patted Dean on the head and turned to her husband.

Mud?

Then Dean realized what she had said - he’d fallen into the mud puddle! Somehow, he’d been lucky enough to avoid the falling wood and the hard ground. He’d landed in the mud. The faulty sprinkler had saved him from injury!

Suddenly, Dean felt two large hands on his shoulders. “Alright, young man, I think it’s high time we went inside.�

Abruptly, Dean was picked up and set on his feet. Shaking his head to clear it from the dizziness of changing position, Dean saw that his father was wearing a stony expression. Silently, his father put a hand on his shoulder and they walked across the yard and into the house.

--

The silence of the house was broken by Dean’s mother shutting the door quietly as she followed Dean and his father in. As Dean and his father passed the kitchen, Dean could see Stella and Jay looking at him with curious expressions.

They did not stop to talk with his brother and sister, but instead continued down the hall until they reached the stairs. Dean’s father dropped his hand from its previous resting place on Dean’s shoulder and indicated that Dean should walk upstairs.

Feeling rather apprehensive, Dean wondered why his father wasn’t talking to him. When he reached the top of the stairs, Dean turned right, walked past Stella’s room, and pushed open the door to his own bedroom.

There were posters of his favorite football teams adorning the walls and the small bookcase in the corner was filled with all sorts of books about sports. His desk beneath the widow was cluttered with doodles and drawings that he had made and his small bed in the corner had a red coverlet on top. The bed looked awfully inviting and Dean sat down on it. It took Dean several moments to realize that his father was still standing in the doorway. They looked at each other for a long moment before his father broke the silence.

“You stay here. Your mother will bring you dinner.�

With that brief declaration, his father shut the door and left Dean to wonder about what might happen.

Dean felt the comfort of his bead beckoning him to lie down. He did so and it was a relatively short time until Dean was fast asleep.

--

He awoke an hour later to someone knocking on his door.

“Unngh?� He grunted sleepily.

“Mum said you would want dinner.� A girl with pigtails secured by two yellow ribbons poked her head around the door.

“Oh, sure. Thanks, Stella.� Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes. His head wasn’t pounding as badly and he wasn’t quite as dizzy as he had been an hour ago.

Stella entered the room and handed Dean a plate with a thick sandwich. Watching Dean take an enormous bite out of the meal, she said quietly, “Daddy’s not very happy with you.�

“Oh yeah? What else is new?� Dean said after swallowing.

“No, really Dean. He made Jay and I go to our rooms and he was talking in the kitchen with Mum. I heard him say that destroying the yard was the last straw and he doesn’t know why he puts up with you.�

“I didn’t destroy the yard!� Dean exclaimed. “I just knocked the lattice stuff off of the wall. And of course he has to ‘put up with me’ – I’m his son!�

“I know. And then he said stuff about how you’re always late and never follow the rules that he puts down.� Stella looked rather uncomfortable. “But that’s what I heard, anyways.�

“Thanks, Stella.� Dean felt a rush of compassion for his ten year-old sister. She had always been so kind to him, no matter what happened.

Stella smiled shyly at him and turned to leave. “Good night, Dean,� she whispered while shutting the door.

“ ‘Night, Stella.� Dean sat back and munched on his sandwich thoughtfully. Why on earth would his father merely ‘put up with him’ while he seemed to absolutely love his other children?

It was a mystery that Dean’s tired brain couldn’t solve. Finishing his meal, Dean rolled over and went back to sleep.

--

Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair.

Dean was on the receiving end of many glares that his father shot towards him over the newspaper. Every time it happened, Dean’s mother would look reproachfully at her husband, but he merely shifted the paper.

The general awkward feeling that had descended upon the breakfast table was punctuated by eight year-old Jay’s chatter about his plans for the day.

“…and then I’m gonna make a mud castle! Right, Mum?�

His mother gave him a small smile and said rather distractedly, “We’ll see, dear.�

The toast that Dean was eating was dry and tasteless, despite the orange marmalade that was slathered on top. He wasn’t hungry and asked to be excused from the table. His mother gave him permission and his father rustled the newspaper.

Dean shook his head, walked out of the kitchen, and back upstairs to his bedroom. Perhaps ten minutes later, he was joined by a wide-eyed and frightened looking Stella.

“What’s wrong, Stella?� There was urgency in his voice – his sister was level headed and rarely got upset.

Tears were making her eyes shine and she sniffed before answering, “They’re fighting!�

Dean was confused. “Who?�

In a tear-choked voice, Stella said almost incredulously, “Mum and Daddy!�

“What?� In all of Dean’s memories, his parents had never fought. There had been occasional irritation between the two, but never an actual fight.

Disbelievingly, he walked out into the hallway, only to hear his mother’s voice from behind the closed kitchen door. “I don’t understand, Jack. It was an accident! Dean didn’t mean to break it and I for one am glad that he’s in one piece. Why are you reacting this way?�

“I told you. He is blatantly defying my authority!� His father’s voice rose dramatically at the end of his assertion.

“Don’t yell, Jack!� His mother sounded exasperated. “Just because he’s come home late doesn’t mean he’s defying your authority. He’s young! You have to forgive your son’s mistakes.�

There was a pause before Dean’s father responded in a voice so low that Dean had to strain to hear him. “He’s no son of mine.� The voice was bitter and scathing – one that Dean had never heard before. It sent chills up Dean’s spine.

Dean’s mother gasped in outrage. “Of course he is your son! And I don’t see why you won’t forgive him for a small mistake.�

“I’m not his father, damn it! And I know that he’s displaying whatever tendencies that his pathetic father had, because my children certainly don’t behave like he does.�

“When I married you,� Dean’s mother’s voice was low and angry, “You adopted Dean. You are his legal father. And I expect you to act that way.�

There was silence and Dean could imagine his parents staring at each other, waiting for the other to back down first. Then he heard his father – could he still be considered his father? – speak. His voice was no longer angry. In fact, it sounded quite calm and composed.

“Does Dean have any reason to suspect that I am not his father?�

His mother sounded scandalized, “You know I wouldn’t have told him that!�

“Then let’s keep it that way.� His father had an air of finality in his voice and Dean scurried back to his room when he heard his father walking towards the kitchen door.

As he shut his door quietly, what he had just heard began to sink in. The man who had always been in the role of a father to Dean wasn’t his father.

But who was?

The question hung around Dean’s head. Who could his father be to abandon him and his mother? What kind of a person did that?

Then a wave of anger washed over Dean – why wouldn’t his mother tell him? He had every right to know who his father was!

Maybe his real father was a horrible man and his mother was ashamed of him. That would explain the reaction she had, Dean thought sullenly.

Dean’s inner voice screamed, but I still want to know who he was!

“Dean? May I come in, dear?� His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, um, sure, Mum.� Dean was rather flustered but turned and looked at her anyways.

His mother looked more tired than she usually did and there was an unfamiliar glint - could it be determination? - in her eyes. She was also carrying a large and yellowish envelope in her hands.

“Dean,� she began without preamble, “I’m sure you heard our conversation downstairs.� She paused while Dean nodded in affirmation. “When your father left, he gave me this with the instructions that I could not open it without your express permission and that you would receive it during the summer that you turned eleven.�

Dean looked at the envelope again. It was rather old looking and shabby – as if it had been stuffed into the back of a drawer and recently pulled out.

She held the battered envelope out to him, “Here you are, dear.�

Once he had taken it, she slowly walked out of the room and left Dean alone with his envelope.

Dean stared at it in awe. His father had written something to him! Within a period of an hour, Dean had learned of this person and now, whoever he was, Dean had tangible proof that he existed.

Euphoria bubbled up within him as he stared at the neat script on the front. It was addressed merely to ‘Dean’ and the ink was beginning to fade along the ‘D’.

It was from his father!

Eagerly, Dean ripped open the stiff yellow paper in order to find the sole connection that he had with this mysterious new father of his.

Letters

The envelope contained a piece of paper that was made out of the same stiff, yellow-coloured material. Eagerly, Dean pulled the folded paper out and placed it gently on his desk.

It had been creased for a very long time and opened rather reluctantly, but Dean was extraordinarily careful not to tear it. Once it had been unfolded, he very cautiously smoothed it out.

It was filled with writing that was in the same hand as the front of the envelope. The letters were rather blocky, but were small and neat.

To Dean, it began:

I realize that this letter may come as a bit of a shock for you. In fact, I very sincerely wish that you weren’t reading it at all. You see, if you are, I am long dead.

It is strange to see those words on paper, despite the fact that death looms ever closer. I am currently working to save the world (doesn’t that sound impressive? I’m sure every boy wishes his father were a hero. If so, your wish may come true). Although your mother doesn’t know, I am embroiled in a battle against one of the biggest threats the world has ever seen. Most of the world, however, can’t see what I’m doing. If I lose, though, they will feel the effects greatly. There will be suffering beyond what we can comprehend, Dean. And I promise you, fighting to save others from suffering is the only reason that I would ever leave you and your mother.

I hope you’re sitting down, Dean. I’m sure you’ll doubt what I’m going to say, but it has to be said.

The reason that the world can’t see what I’m fighting against is because I am a Wizard.

That’s right. I have a wand and I can brew potions. I even have a pointed hat and a broomstick, though I much prefer Apparition. (You’ll soon learn what that is, I promise!) I and a band of like-minded individuals are fighting what can only be termed Dark Magic. There is an evil wizard threatening to take over the world, and we are doing our best to stop it.

Dean, because I am a Wizard, there is a great chance your are a wizard as well, in fact, I’m sure you are. Have you ever had something extraordinarily lucky happen to you? Perhaps something saved you from a rather nasty injury? That would be magic.

You are eleven years old this summer. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for your birthdays – you’ll never know how deeply I regret leaving you and your mother. But this was a choice that had to be made, and I hope you understand that. My death, should it happen, will be one of many, but mine is freely given, as long as it serves a purpose. I am not, per se, afraid of death – I will only regret that you will have known me for one short month. However, this summer is a very special one for you. Soon, you will receive an invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – the finest school for young Witches and Wizards in the entire world.

What I’m about to say will sound like babble, but you‘ll come to understand in due course. I’m a Half-Blood and a proud member of the noble house of Ravenclaw. I wish that I could share my name with you, but that is too dangerous in case this letter is intercepted.

But that is beside the point. Dean, whatever happens, you must attend Hogwarts. The world needs Wizards and I’m sure that you’ll grow up to be a mighty fine one.

Again, I sincerely wish that I could have been there to tell you this myself, but I fear that if I do not join in on this fight, there may not be a Wizarding world by the time you come of age. Therefore, this letter is a necessity.

Please give your Mum a hug and a kiss for me,

Your father

Dean could only stare at the letter, wide-eyed. His father was a Wizard? Those only existed in the fantasy novels that Stella read. Witches and Wizards weren’t real! And the wands, the potions, the school – those weren’t real either!

Dean shook his head, feeling rather disappointed. He’d had such high hopes for finding out about his father, but all he’d discovered was a load of fantasy. Someone had played a good joke on him, but Dean wasn’t laughing.

His father didn’t even have a name, for goodness sake! How believable was that? And Dean knew for a fact that there hadn’t been a war recently for anyone to fight in – he surely would have studied that in school.

This story about his father was impossible, and Dean knew it. Rather angrily, he shoved the heavy and yellowed paper to the back of his cluttered desk and stormed downstairs. His father – no, his stepfather – had already left for his office and his mother was in the yard, trying to salvage some of her flowering vines. Dean didn’t see Stella or Jay anywhere, and suddenly he felt lonely.

Most of his family seemed angry with him, someone was playing an elaborate hoax about his parentage, and no one was currently paying him any attention.

Frustration bubbled up inside of him, and Dean tore towards the front door in a sprint. Making sure to slam the door on his way out, he went up several blocks to the one thing that might distract him – football.

--

Dean played as hard as he possibly could. He ran up the field and back again. It was a bit mindless, chasing the ball, but it felt as if he was running away from his problems. Away from the turmoil that he had somehow fallen into yesterday afternoon.

If only he hadn’t been late…

After the other team scored a goal, Dean made a point of checking a teammate’s watch. With fifteen minutes until curfew, he said his goodbyes to the team and began to walk home.

He was determined not to be late this time. He would be home, on time, clean, and sitting down for dinner. Just the way his family wanted it.

There was a cool breeze blowing and it played through Dean’s hair and felt refreshing on his flushed face. Scuffing the ground slightly, he turned the corner onto his block.

It was quiet. There was no one outside and no cars were driving up the street. Dean quickened his rather slow pace slightly, just in case he had wasted more time than he had thought. As he reached the front gate, he could see that the dining room table in his house was empty. By squinting through the window, he was able to see that his mother was at the stove, giving some pan a stir.

Dean was right on time.

Opening the door, Dean stepped over the threshold and took his dirty shoes off so that they would soil the clean carpet. He shut the door with a quiet snap and walked into the bathroom.

Dean turned the faucet on and splashed the cold water on to his hands and face. It felt good to clean up after a long game. Just as he was towelling his face off, he heard his mother shout, “Dinner!�

Dean hung the towel neatly on the rack and walked into the dining room. Jay and Stella were already seated, his father was just sitting down, and his mother was bringing a fragrant dish in from the kitchen. It seemed as if it would be a peaceful family meal.

Dean’s father smiled and turned to his youngest son, “So, Jay, what did you do today?�

“I found a worm!� Jay said eagerly. He spread his thumb and finger a few inches out, “And it was this big!�

His father nodded and picked up his fork. Slowly, he took a bite of his steaming dinner. The silence at the table felt heavy and oppressive. Dean’s mother noticed, and said rather quickly, “Good news. It looks like my plants will survive their little tumble.� Seeing her husband nod, she continued, “I cleared away most of the fallen wood and replanted just about everything.�

His father grunted noncommittally while keeping his eyes on his plate.

The table fell back into the awkward silence. Dean took a bite of dinner, only to realize that it was much too hot. He picked up his glass of water and took a very quick swallow.

The seconds dragged on through dinner. The uncomfortable silence seemed to make the time spent eating stretch into infinity. And then…

Tap, tap!

“What the…?� Dean’s father took his eyes off of his dinner and looked around the room.

The curious tapping sound came again, slightly more persistently this time.

Jay looked beneath the table to see if he could locate the source of the noise, while his father was looking at the china on the table suspiciously.

Then Stella exclaimed, “There’s a bird at the window!�

“What?� Dean, his mother, and his father all said the one word simultaneously.

His father stood up and strode towards the window. He opened it with a small clicking noise and a bird – an owl – flew in. Stella squealed as the bird dropped something that landed very close to her plate. And just as suddenly as the owl had flown in, it zoomed right back out of the window.

The room fell into silence once again, but this time shock emanated throughout the occupants. An owl had never flown into the house before. Much less during dinnertime! Dean automatically reached for whatever it was that the owl had dropped.

It was a rather thick rectangle. As Dean picked it up, he felt his heartbeat start to race – it was made out of the same material that his previous envelope had been made of.

Bringing it closer to his face, Dean was able to read the rather slanted script:

Dean Thomas
The Dinner Table
Rochford, Essex

“It’s mine.� Dean’s voice was a combination of amazement and curiosity.

His father spoke to him for the first time since the previous day. “Nonsense!� he scoffed. “How on earth could a scrap of paper that an owl dropped be yours?�

Dean looked up and met his father’s eyes. “It’s got my name on it.�

His mother, feeling the tension level beginning to rise, said softly, “Then why don’t you open it, dear?�

Dean nodded and picked up his dinner knife. He very carefully slit the thick paper, being careful not to cut through the curious wax seal on the back.

Once the envelope was open, Dean gingerly pulled out what appeared to be three pieces of the same heavy paper. He carefully unfolded them and read the one on top:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grad Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Thomas,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

Dean’s eyes grew wide as he scanned the short letter. Hogwarts was real. He was invited to a school that taught Witches and Wizards. Just like his father had said in the letter!

But that meant that his father had actually been a Wizard.

His father was a wizard!

Dean’s sat grappling this thought. It seemed so real now that he held proof that his real father had been right. And the best part was that he, Dean Thomas, was a wizard too.

The clink of china as his mother placed her coffee cup back on the saucer broke Dean’s reverie. He looked down at the other two sheets of paper that he held in his hand.

One was a list of all of the supplies that he would need. He was quite intrigued by the fact that broomsticks actually existed (and rather saddened by the fact that he wouldn’t be allowed to buy one). And he would need a wand!

The other sheet of paper was another letter, addressed to him. It read:


Dear Mr. Thomas,

As you are a Muggle-born wizard (one who does not have any experience with magic as of yet), you will need assistance in order to purchase your school supplies. On Saturday, July 28, please present yourself at the Leaky Cauldron in London promptly at two o’clock. You will find a map enclosed.

Tom, the barman at the Leaky Cauldron, will assist you in obtaining your school supplies. Your parents will not be able to see the Leaky Cauldron yet (we will enable you to take them there later in your magical education). Due to this, your parents will simply have to leave you at the location in London which you specify.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

At the bottom of the letter, there was a map of London with a small, flashing, red dot that was labeled “The Leaky Cauldron.�

Dean stared once again in shock. Despite the fact that he now believed that there were Wizards (and he was one of them), it was difficult to grasp that there was an entire world that had existed without his knowledge.

“Dean?� His mother broke his train of thought with the question.

“Yes?� Dean looked up from the small stack of paperwork in his lap.

“What’s going on, dear?�

Dean felt his face break into an enormous grin before he shouted for all to hear, “I’m a Wizard, Mum!�

Emil

Dean’s entire family stared at him in bewilderment. Stella actually resembled a fish; her mouth was open so wide.

“I beg your pardon?� his mother finally asked.

“I’m a Wizard. You know, I do magic with wands and… stuff.� Dean’s explanation felt inadequate, but in reality, he had no idea what Wizards did. All he knew about the Wizarding world was that his father had fought some sort of evil magic-users with a wand.

Well, actually, he also knew that there were broomsticks that he could fly on, but he decided to keep that information private for the time being.

“Rubbish!� his father snorted “You? A Wizard? That’s impossible! You can’t do magic!� He laughed good-naturedly, as if what he was saying was common knowledge.

Dean’s response was immediate and quite irritated, “Yes, I can,� he retorted. “How do you think I fell without getting hurt? It’s because I’m a Wizard!� Dean’s voice rose indignantly on the last sentence.

“You were simply lucky that Jay had been playing with the hose,� his father responded with maddening calmness.

“IT WAS NOT LUCK!� Dean bellowed.

His father shot a glare in his direction and turned towards Stella and Jay. “Both of you go to your rooms. Now,� he commanded. Both of Dean’s siblings quickly stood and left the room silently. Before she left, Stella looked over her shoulder uncertainly at Dean, but scampered out when her father pointed at the door.

Turning back towards Dean, his father took a deep breath in order to regain his composure. Dean was seething with anger, but put a rather forced smile on his face.

Folding his fingers together, his father began in a calm and rational voice, “Young man, I don’t know what has been going on these last few days. All I know is that your behaviour has been out of line and I intend for that to stop. Immediately.�

Dean let out a disbelieving breath at his father’s words. His mother wasn’t meeting his eyes and was instead staring down at her coffee cup.

“Mum!� Dean pleaded, “I really am a Wizard. Honestly!�

His father’s hand smacked the table. “And there you go again! This fantasy about magic has got to stop!� The calm exterior at which he had worked so hard to maintain fell away as he snarled at Dean.

His mother cleared her throat softly and her husband’s voice immediately dropped several decibels and took on a gentler quality. “Do you think that it’s possible that he injured his head in the fall? It might be a concussion, you know.�

Before his mother could respond, Dean shouted, “I don’t have a concussion! I’m not making up fantasies about magic! It’s all real! My father said so!�

Dean gasped when he realized what he had said. He hadn’t meant to let slip that he knew about his actual parentage.

“What did you just say?� His stepfather’s voice was dangerously quiet.

Dean swallowed nervously and was able to feel the anger radiating from the elegantly slender man across the table. It felt like intense, prickly heat was jabbing him all over. In fact, it made Dean fidget uncomfortably in his chair.

“Tell me, damn it!� He slammed his fist so hard on the table that the dishes danced and the silverware rattled.

“Jack, I told him,� Dean’s mother said simply.

He rounded on his wife with a look of disbelief in his dark eyes. “What?�

“I told you, Jack. I gave Dean the letter that his father left for him.� His mother sounded calm and collected, but her eyes blazed with defiance.

“But, Liz! I thought we agreed never to tell any—“

His mother cut in, “And that was an agreement you violated this morning.�

Comprehension dawned across her husband’s face, followed quickly by cold fury. “You knew!� he spat. “You knew all along he was a Wizard. Didn’t you? And you kept it from me!� He glared and then resumed his tirade. “That’s it! No one like that can have my name! Liz, tomorrow we’re driving into town and changing the boy’s name.�

“Jack! I don’t care if you’re not his biological father; you are Dean’s legal guardian! Emil would have wanted you to have raised him as your own – complete, may I add, with your name!�

Dean was loathe to interrupt another rare argument between his parents, but he was confused. “Wait - who’s Emil?� he asked.

Dean’s mother continued to stare fiercely at her husband. “Your father,� she finally answered.

Dean made a mental note of this new bit of trivia before standing up quietly and leaving his parents to their staring match. Once he shut the door, he heard their argument resume, although it was much quieter. In his hand, he still held the three letters from Hogwarts.

Dean climbed the stairs carefully, all the while thinking about what his mother had revealed. His father’s name was Emil. The thought echoed through Dean’s head as he mounted the steps.

He walked into his room and shut the door. Sitting down on the bed, Dean picked up the letter from his father again. He held it up and compared the paper to that of the letters from Hogwarts; they were the exact same, heavy, yellow paper.

As Dean re-read his note from Hogwarts, he noticed the date on the paper – August 3rd. What day was it anyhow?

He glanced at the calendar that was posted on his wall. The picture this month was of a muddy football player heading the ball. Dean took his eyes away from the football star and looked at the actual dates. Today was the twenty-sixth of July. That meant that he could be a Wizard in less than two days. The only catch would be getting to London. If his parents refused to take him…

Dean tried not to think in such a pessimistic way. Surely his mother would take him to London.

--

Dean must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, there was someone knocking on his bedroom door. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes and stood up. Sluggishly, he thought how strange it was that people always knocked on his door whenever it was shut. Perhaps if he left it open, he wouldn’t have as many interruptions. As he walked over to the door, he realized that he was still holding the four different letters – three from Hogwarts, one from his father – in his hand.

Dean opened the door a crack and saw his mother waiting outside in the hallway.

“Did you want something, Mum?�

His mother smiled a bit hesitantly, “May I come in?�

Dean was mystified by what she might say, but he replied, “Sure.�

She walked towards his desk chair and sat down gingerly on the edge of it, while Dean plopped back down on his bed.

“Dean, I wanted to apologize for everything that’s been going on around here. I know it must be absolute torture to suddenly find yourself with what seems like a whole new family.�

Dean nodded and she continued, “But, dear, I want to know – what were you going to tell us downstairs?� She bit her lip nervously. Dean had never seen his mother act in such a manner before and it was rather worrying.

This, more than anything, caused him to say, “I’m a Wizard, Mum. I can do magic, just like my dad told me in his letter.�

His mother looked at him curiously.

“I mean, didn’t you know that he was a Wizard?� Dean amended quickly.

His mother shook her head slowly.

“He never told you?� Dean’s tone was rather incredulous.

His mother had a far away look in her eyes, as if she were remembering something that was only a vague memory. “Emil insisted that everything he didn’t say was for my protection. He said once that if certain people learned of my existence, I would be… threatened.� Her voice had a dreamy, far off quality to it.

Dean nodded. “That’s what he said! He said he was fighting evil wizards.�

Dean realized that his mother wasn’t paying particularly close attention to what he was saying; she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

“Mum?� He asked softly, “Did you want to read his letter?�

She nodded her head slowly and held out her hand. Dean extracted the letter from his father from the others he held in his hands and gently handed it to her.

She unfolded the heavy paper almost reverently, as if it were something valuable that she didn’t want to damage. She very gently smoothed the creases out of the paper before reading the short letter.

Once she had finished, she looked back up at Dean and he realized that there were tears shining in her eyes.

“Dean? Was that letter really from Hogwarts?� Her voice was tear-choked and she raised her hand to wipe several tears that had begun to fall from her eyes.

Dean nodded.

“Do you really want to attend, dear?�

Ever since receiving the letter at dinner, Dean hadn’t thought about not wanting to attend. In the few brief hours that he’d known of its existence, he’d only fantasized about being able to do the things his father had done. It was an easy question, but it gave him pause.

“Yes, Mum, I really do want to go.�

A small smile appeared on his mother’s face as she nodded and stood up. Just as she opened the door to leave, something made Dean’s memory kick into gear.

“Oh, Mum!� he called after her. “I need someone to take me to London on Saturday. You know, to get my supplies and stuff.�

Dean waited anxiously for his mother to respond. And when she did, it was very quiet. “I can take you, dear.�

Dean grinned and pumped the air with his fist as his mother shut his door again. He was going to be a Wizard!

--

The next two days were unremarkable; characterized only by the fact that Dean’s mother seemed slightly more emotional, Stella seemed to be in awe, and Jack Thomas, the man that Dean had always called father, had deepening furrows on his forehead. In fact, Dean hadn’t spoken with him for two days, and was finding it much more peaceful without the forced and irritated conversation.

And then, the morning of the twenty-eighth, Dean and his mother drove to London. Dean had invited Stella along, but she had declined. However, she had given Dean a big hug and waved enthusiastically as the car left the driveway.

The drive commenced in silence. Dean had handed the map to his mother and she had accepted it with only a nod. It was not an uncomfortable silence, per se; it was merely a noticeable lack of conversation. Dean stared out of the window. It was really lovely to look at the green pastures as they passed. It seemed as if some of the fields went on forever, perhaps; only interrupted by a small stonewall.

After about an hour, Dean found himself asking his mother, “Mum? How did you and my father meet if you weren’t a witch?� Dean was rather surprised at the question – it was as if his mouth had acted of its own accord. He hadn’t intended to say anything.

Keeping her hands steady on the wheel, she responded, “We met in London. I was just out of University, and living on my own in a tiny little flat.�

Her eyes, while focused on the road, seemed to become somewhat pensive. “I was leaving one morning when I saw a man walking down the street in the oddest costume. He was wearing slacks, a sweatshirt, sandals, and a queer little top hat.� She smiled at the memory and continued, “I asked him about his strange attire, and he said that he was just coming home from a costume party. I thought he must have been slightly mad to be walking the streets of London in that get-up, but he didn’t seem to be bothered.�

Her teeth caught her bottom lip and worried it for a moment before she finished her story. “I suppose I walked closer, because the next thing I saw was his eyes. They were so dark and rich and captivating - I couldn’t look away. We just stared at each other for ages before he introduced himself to me. Then he tipped his hat and walked off down the street.�

Dean’s mother gave a gentle sigh. Her story seemed to have reached its conclusion, but he wasn’t fully satisfied with the answer.

“But, what happened? You just walked into him on the street!�

“I know. The next morning Emil was waiting for me to leave my flat. He was dressed normally this time and he had a daisy in his hand. He said he wanted to apologize if he had startled me earlier. And from then on, every morning, he’d wait for me and walk me to the bus stop. After a couple of weeks, I finally invited him in. The rest, as they say, is history.�

Dean felt slightly confused, “Wait. How long were you together?�

“Oh, four years, I think.�

“And how could you never find out about him being a Wizard?� Dean felt the incredulous feeling return – that would have been impossible!

Dean’s mother hesitated before answering. “It never really came up. All he said about his early life was that he had attended and graduated from a rather obscure private school and that his parents had died about a year before we met. All he ever said about his job was that he was a government employee. He had a good salary and I suppose I just never questioned it.

“And then one day, Emil was gone. He had left in the middle of the night. There was a note for me saying that he had to help protect the lives of several of his friends. He said that he would probably never be back, but that he had to try…� His mother’s voice cracked on the final word and Dean could see her eyes brimming with tears.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes with one hand. With a shock, Dean realized that they had reached London already. He’d been so absorbed in the conversation that he hadn’t paid any attention to where they had been going.

Pressing his nose to the cold glass of the window, Dean stared out at the bustling city. There were so many people walking briskly in one direction or another. It was as if they all had a purpose, a reason, for walking so quickly. He pulled his face back several inches and studied the smudge that his nose had left on the clean glass. If Dean tipped his head and squinted, it looked somewhat like a cat. But, if he tipped his head the other way--

“Dean, dear, I think this is where you’re supposed to be.�

Dean looked up from the interesting smudge and saw that they were stopped directly outside of a very large bookshop. He glanced to the right of the shop and saw that there was a small, grubby building next door. There was a sign hanging over the door that read in chipped paint, The Leaky Cauldron.

Something in the pit of Dean’s stomach began to bubble. Was it fear? Nerves? Excitement? All three? Dean wasn’t sure.

He turned around and faced his mother. “Can you see it, Mum?�

She seemed utterly perplexed. “What am I supposed to be seeing, dear?�

“Never mind, Mum.�

Dean felt disappointed that his mother couldn’t see the world in which he was about to enter. With a sigh, he opened the door of car, and stepped out onto the pavement. Bending over so that he could look his mother in the eye, he said, “Could you wait here for me, Mum? I don’t think I’ll take too long.�

She seemed to be at a loss for words, but she nodded and took the keys out of the ignition.

Straightening, Dean turned to face the shabby pub that he had been instructed to enter. He squared he shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked towards the door.

The few steps that it took Dean to cross the pavement seemed to last an eternity. Each footstep seemed to echo in his mind and one thought pervaded his consciousness: there’s no going back.

Once he crossed the threshold, he would be a part of this world – his father’s world – forever. Dean stood before the weathered wood of the door and took a look over his shoulder at his mother. She was sitting, waiting in the car, with a book in her hands. Whatever substance had been bubbling in his stomach earlier, seemed to be in a frenzy now. Dean took a rather ragged breath, placed his hand on the roughly hewn wood, and pushed the door open.

~~~