As the first rays of sunlight crept through the curtains, Gordon began to stir. He pulled the covers over his head for a second, enjoying a few last moments in bed, before sitting up and opening his eyes. The room around him was littered with old magazines and boxes full of videos. Although the surroundings were messy, they were of the sort found in the living spaces of most twelve-year-old boys.
Gordon Owen was not like most other boys his age though. Last year he had found out he was a wizard, and was going to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
His first year at Hogwarts had proved to be far more eventful than all his primary school years put together. He had spent most of it trying to find out who was poisoning his classmate, had happened upon the information that children had died at Hogwarts, and had topped off the year with an encounter with a none-too-friendly wyvern. All through this he had also managed to complete a small mountain of homework, and passed several exams. Remarkably, he had enjoyed every last minute of it.
If Gordon could have one complaint about his first year at Hogwarts, though, it was that it had made the summer holidays quite dull in comparison. On leaving last year, he had received a letter informing him that he was not allowed to perform magic outside of school until he was seventeen. He had already learned this the previous summer, from the witch who had first told him he was a wizard, but had rather been hoping that they would forget to mention it.
As he climbed out of bed, Gordon reached into a hole in the plaster of the wall, and pulled out a long thin box. He took off the box’s lid, and carefully lifted out his wand.
Since summer began Gordon had been doing this every morning, almost ritually. Although he wasn’t allowed to do magic out of school, he felt it would be a sin if he did not feel the magic in his wand seep through his fingers each day. He did not dare utter an incantation or so much as wave the thing, but it seemed to brighten him up in the mornings just to touch it.
As well as a wand, Gordon had a trunk full of magical books and equipment, topped off by a small pewter cauldron lying next to it. Although Gordon took a certain amount of care over his books and his wand, the cauldron was presently lying on its side covered in dust. The inside was stained and discoloured, and its bottom had been slightly eroded by several potions that had gone badly wrong. Gordon didn’t particularly care about this. The Potions teacher at Hogwarts, Professor Snape, was probably the most unpleasant man Gordon had ever met. Besides which, having levitated feathers through the air and transfigured matchsticks into needles, Gordon felt that making potions wasn’t real magic anyway.
It was at that moment that the room’s other inhabitant came flying in through the window. It was Edwin, Gordon’s owl. Edwin flew down beside Gordon, and gave him a friendly peck on the hand. Gordon winced slightly as the owl’s beak pinched his skin. Edwin seemed to be quite a cheerful owl, and had been more than happy to act as a relay between Gordon and his friend Luke Oakshot down the road. He had also delivered several letters without complaint to another of his wizard friends “ who Gordon was sure lived halfway across the country. Unfortunately, Edwin’s enthusiasm for the job meant his pecks of affection could easily be mistaken for attacks of opportunity, and the skin on Gordon’s thumb was now quite tough from the experience.
When Gordon had bought Edwin from Eeylops Owl Emporium last year, he had done so partly because he had been so amazed by the manners of the owls that had delivered his Hogwarts letter, but also because he had believed an owl could be useful. Edwin did not disappoint. Not only was he quite content to fly to the other end of the country at Gordon’s whim, he had also proved to be a very low maintenance pet. Although Gordon had bought a large bag of seed for him upon returning from Hogwarts, Edwin had decided that the large population of mice in the fields behind Gordon’s house were more to his taste. This meant that the bag of seed now sat virtually untouched, and his cage’s floor was littered with the hair and bones of his latest meals.
Gordon picked out a quill from his trunk, some ink and a small piece of parchment, while Edwin took a drink from the water trough in his cage. Twiddling the quill between his fingers, Gordon screwed up his face in concentration as he pondered what to write. Eventually, apparently satisfied, he dipped his quill in his bottle of ink before putting it to paper.
‘You are a moron.’
He read it over before chuckling to himself and rolling it up. He then pulled out a small piece of ribbon from his trunk as Edwin flew down from his cage to his side.
‘Take that to Luke, would you? I hate to think I’m up and he isn’t,’ said Gordon, as he tied the parchment to Edwin’s leg with the ribbon. ‘And you have my full permission to peck him as many times as you like,’ he finished, grinning to himself. Edwin gave him another peck on the hand, further reddening it, and flew out of the window.
Since he had returned from Hogwarts, the only one of his school friends Gordon had seen was Luke Oakshot, another wizard boy in the village. The pair of them had known each other for as long as either could remember, and it was at Luke’s house last year that they had found out they were destined for Hogwarts. Gordon’s other friends at school were Oliver and Kyle, who were in Gryffindor, Gordon and Luke’s house. Their house had one other boy in their year, Percy. Gordon didn’t really count Percy as his friend, since he had reported them to teachers on several occasions, and also tended to regard his classmates as being his colleagues.
Gordon had received letters from all of them so far this summer, which were now spread about the floor beside his bed. Kyle’s letters tended to be the shortest of all of them. They seemed to be hurriedly put together accounts of what he had been up to, which mostly included things such as getting the Doxys out of the garage or de-gnoming the garden. Gordon was sure that these things would be terribly exciting to witness, but Kyle talked about them like they were the washing up.
Percy’s letters, on the other hand, were so long and drawn out that Gordon got into the habit of skim-reading them for anything of interest, which was rare. Percy spent most of the letters talking about how important his father was, and how he was going to help get Percy a job at the Ministry one day. Though Gordon loved most aspects of wizarding life, his interest in magic did not extend to the wizarding government (though he had been amazed to find out they had one). The only interesting bits in Percy’s letters seemed to be when he was talking about his brothers.
Gordon knew Percy’s two older brothers, Bill and Charlie, from Hogwarts. It had been Charlie who, with the help of the groundskeeper Hagrid, had raised the wyvern last year. Although the wyvern almost ended up devouring Gordon, Luke and Kyle, the experience had managed to get Charlie a job over the holidays at a Dragon Sanctuary in Romania. From what he knew of Charlie, Gordon imagined it was the job of his dreams, though Percy referred to it as “something he can use at interviews for proper jobs”.
Through Percy’s letters, Gordon now also knew the names of Percy’s younger brothers, who he had briefly seen on the Hogwarts train platform last year. There were the twins, Fred and George, who were ten, and his youngest brother Ron, who was eight. Percy had also mentioned a sister who was youngest of all, whose name Gordon believed to be Gemma, though he hadn’t read Percy’s letters thoroughly enough to be sure of this. In truth, he spent most of the letters looking for any mention of Fred or George, who by Percy’s accounts seemed to have made it their lifework to torment him. Last week Gordon had been close to wetting himself with laughter upon reading about Percy’s rather traumatised account of them hiding exploding-snap-cards in his pyjamas.
Yet of all the letters Gordon received, his favourites by far were those from Oliver. On the train to Hogwarts last year Oliver had introduced him to Quidditch; a basketball-like game played on broomsticks, which was now Gordon’s favourite sport. Oliver rarely seemed to mention anything other than Quidditch in his letters, and had included several magical newspaper cuttings (where the people in the pictures moved, much to the amazement of Gordon’s parents) about players and of league tables. Oliver had even said that he would help Gordon buy a broom this summer, as well as helping him practice for the house Quidditch team tryouts. Gordon had been itching to get a broom from the moment he had heard of the sport, and Oliver had promised that they would go shopping to Diagon Alley the first weekend after they received their reading lists. Gordon was sure they were overdue.
After he had got dressed, Gordon went downstairs to find his mother sat at the table, drinking a cup of tea. Mrs Owen had very long hair that, like Gordon’s, was bright ginger.
‘Morning,’ said Mrs Owen, as her son came in.
‘Morning,’ mumbled Gordon back, taking a seat at the table.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘No thanks,’ mumbled Gordon once more. ‘Have I had any mail today?’
Gordon’s mother shook her head and smiled.
‘I’m sure it’ll be here soon,’ she said. ‘There’s still weeks before you actually go back there.’
Gordon nodded and got up, before reaching over to a loaf of bread on the side and placing two slices into the toaster. The Owen’s kitchen was a cluttered and slightly messy affair, with mounds of washing up by the sink and countless tools lying about the place. The spanners, wrenches and hammers that made up the latter belonged to his father and Gordon’s brother, Michael.
Gordon had two brothers. There was Michael, who was the older of the two and worked with Gordon’s father at a garage, and David, who was the quietest of the three of them and worked with Gordon’s mother at the factory. When they had found out last year that their younger brother was a wizard, at first neither of them believed it. When Gordon had eventually shown them the letter he had received, Michael had taken his father’s motorcycle straight down to the shops and came back with armfuls of sweets and fizzy pop. David had been pretty much stunned into silence.
Unfortunately, the Decree for Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery meant that while Gordon had come home at the end of last year with enough tales for the whole summer, he couldn’t actually show them what he had learnt. This summer he had found his relationship with his brothers rather more awkward than usual, because both were eager to see Gordon doing some magic. As it was, he had hardly spoken to his brothers this summer, which was unusual for him.
His parents, however, had already met several wizards, as they had escorted Gordon down to London to catch the train to Hogwarts. As well as this, they had also passed through the portal to platform nine and three quarters at Kings Cross. This had been enough to convince both of them that magic was very much for real, and not knowing enough about it, they had not questioned Gordon in the slightest. Gordon was rather glad about this, since he wasn’t sure how his parents would react to hearing about him nearly getting eaten by a wyvern.
Gordon was just about to start buttering his toast, when there was a tap at the kitchen window. Gordon turned to see Edwin perched on the windowsill with a piece of parchment loosely tied around his leg. Gordon put down his toast and opened the window to let him in. The owl leapt through and onto the table “ nearly knocking over Gordon’s mother’s cup of tea in the process “ before giving him another friendly peck on the hand. Gordon pulled the piece of parchment off Edwin’s leg and read it.
‘I’m not the one sending a bloody great bird out to maim people.’
Gordon chuckled once more and noticed that there appeared to be several small bloodstains at the bottom of the parchment. Luke’s hands were not quite as hardened to Edwin’s bites as Gordon’s. Gordon was about to scrawl out another reply, when he noticed another owl, this one an extremely handsome eagle owl, come sailing towards the window. Nearly knocking his plate of toast off the table, Gordon bolted over to the window as the owl came sailing down onto the sill. Attached to its leg was not a piece of parchment, but a sealed envelope.
As Gordon pulled off the letter the owl lifted its head rather loftily. Edwin briefly made to fly over to it, but the eagle owl chirped rather aggressively at him, and he seemed to think better of it. Before he had even sat back down, Gordon had torn open the letter, casting the wax seal somewhere onto the floor. The owl ruffled its feathers rather sharply, apparently in disgust at Gordon’s lack of care with its package, before flying back off.
‘I told you it would arrive soon,’ said Mrs Owen, though Gordon was far too busy reading the letter to pay full attention to what she said. They would be taking the train from platform nine and three quarters on the first of September, just as they had done last year. The letter also had details on the extra books they would need this year, and Gordon was pleased to see that this year they would only need two more. Hopefully, he thought to himself, that would leave plenty of money for a good broomstick.
Second-year students will require:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk
Physical and Mental Resistance to the Dark Arts by Haldeir Ripjaw
All students will also require a set of training robes.
Gordon paused as he read the end of the letter. He didn’t have any idea what the training robes were, but supposed they’d probably sell them on Diagon Alley with everything else. After checking he hadn’t missed any other details, he ran back upstairs and began digging around in his trunk for his quill and some parchment. As soon as he found it, he began scribbling down a letter to Oliver.
‘Just got the Reading List! Are we still going to Diagon Alley this weekend? Can’t wait to get myself a broom!’
Gordon read what he had just written. It looked a little short to send Edwin all the way to Oliver’s house, so Gordon tried to bulk it out a bit.
‘Hope you’re okay. Let us know as soon as possible!’
Gordon thought that made it sound a little better. Grabbing another piece of ribbon from his trunk he hurtled downstairs and dashed over to Edwin.
‘I need this taking as soon as possible to Oliver! Make sure you get a reply!’ said Gordon with a grin, leaving Edwin slightly aback with how quickly he tied the parchment to his leg. Edwin made to peck Gordon on the hand, but Gordon had already opened up the window again as was gesturing him to leave. Edwin blinked for a second.
‘Come on! You can peck me all you like when you get back! This is important!’
Edwin ruffled his feathers a little, before flying out of the window and out over the fields behind Gordon’s house. Gordon watched the owl fly off, until all he could see of him was a black dot above the horizon, before sitting back down at the table and re-reading the letter. He was halfway through the list of books when the phone rang.
‘Who could that be?’ said Mrs Owen, going through to the other room.
Gordon looked up from his letter at this and over to clock on the wall. It was only half-past eight. Gordon wondered who it was himself. It was extremely unusual for them to get a call off anyone at this time of day. He heard his mother pick up the phone in the other room.
‘Oh, hello! Yes, he is, I’ll just go and get him for you.’
Mr Owen and Michael had already set off for work, and since David rarely got any phone calls, Gordon presumed his mother was referring to him. Jumping up from his seat, and knocking over his toast in the process, he burst through into the hall. His mother smiled at him as he jumped past her to the phone, and picked up the receiver.
‘Hello?’ he said, with a rather sharp intake of breath.
‘Alrighty there!’ came the reply.
Gordon sat down in the armchair and breathed out, feeling a little more relaxed. The voice on the other end of the phone clearly belonged to Luke.
‘Have you had “’
‘“ The letter? Just opened it now. Get Edwin sent over to Oliver, we can “’
‘“ Way ahead of you,’ said Gordon, smiling to himself. ‘Sent it to him just a minute ago. I take it you’re still up for going to Diagon Alley then?’
‘Definitely,’ said Luke. ‘I almost went down myself last weekend. I’ve still got lots of the ingredients from last year, but I’ve been missing porcupine spines and I can’t make any enlargement potions without it.’
Gordon sighed and rather wished it were Oliver he was speaking to. Luke didn’t take nearly as much interest in Quidditch as he and Oliver did. In fact, Luke had been far more interesting in potion making, Gordon’s least favourite subject.
When Luke referred to “the ingredients from last year”, he was talking about the ingredients the Gryffindors had collectively stolen from Professor Snape’s classes in their previous year. Although Gordon and most of Gryffindor had no interest in Potions, stealing from Professor Snape was something they had been more than happy to do.
‘Enlargement potions? I don’t remember doing those,’ said Gordon, hoping the conversation could move onto the new broomstick he would be getting.
‘Well, you wouldn’t,’ replied Luke simply. ‘I managed to take some notes on them and some other potions before we left last year. I thought it would be a while before the new reading list was in, so I read up on what we’d be studying this year before we left.’
‘You’ve not been brewing potions at home? What if the Ministry find out?’
‘Well either they haven’t found me, or there’s a loophole for potions,’ laughed Luke. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’d have let me know if anything would’ve been wrong with it!’
‘What if they throw you out of Hogwarts when you get there?’ blurted out Gordon. ‘You can’t be practicing! I haven’t done anything this summer!’
‘You know, I kind of guessed,’ said Luke, still chuckling. ‘They’re not going to throw me out of school for this, Giz, and you’ll get your chance to do some magic when we go over to Oliver’s.’
‘I guess,’ said Gordon, feeling rather annoyed that everyone else was getting ready for the upcoming year apart from him. ‘Have you asked your mum about that?’
‘Yeah,’ replied Luke. ‘She met Oliver’s mum and dad on platform nine and three-quarters, but I reminded her when I got my letter anyway. How do you reckon we’re going to get there?’
‘I dunno. I guess he’ll probably tell us when he replies to my owl,’ said Gordon, before seizing his chance to shift along the conversation. ‘You know he’s going to help me choose a broom to buy!’
‘Oh,’ said Luke, rather distractedly. ‘Yeah, I think you mentioned it the other day.’
‘Well Oliver said I might be able to find a cheap Nimbus or something. You know the Puddlemere United team all use Nimbuses!’ said Gordon, kicking his feet rather excitedly.
‘Really?’ said Luke rather dully. ‘Well you can tell us all about it if you come round later. I only really called to make sure you’d sent that owl to Oliver. Can you let us know when he replies?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ said Gordon, wishing Luke was as excited as he was about Nimbuses.
‘And do you think you could you call me this time?’ said Luke finally. ‘I don’t think my hand is ready for another one of Edwin’s greetings.’
Gordon smiled.
*
It was around Midday when a small tawny owl came flying in through the window Gordon had left open. Gordon recognised the owl as being Ledley, who belonged to Oliver’s parents. He had received most of Oliver’s letters through Ledley, and quickly poured out a mug of water for him to drink through. Ledley gratefully accepted, and Gordon untied the letter from his leg as he drank. Leaving the owl to its water, he ripped open the envelope and began reading the letter inside.
‘Dear Gordon,
The school booklist just arrived here, so I’m guessing you’ll have yours too by the time you read this. Are you still okay to go to Diagon Alley this weekend? We’ve got to get you a broom (and there’s some good news about that too) as well as our school stuff.
I’ve also been talking to my mum about you and Luke and she said you’d be welcome to stay over for a few nights next week if you’d like. Let me know if that’s okay, and could you ask Luke whether it’s all right for him as well. You and me need to get some Quidditch practice in if we’re to make the team this year! I haven’t had chance to play with anyone this summer, hope you can make it.
Let us know as soon as you can.
Oliver
P.S. I found this in the Daily Prophet, thought it might interest you.
Gordon picked up the envelope the letter had come in. In the bottom of it was a tiny, folded newspaper cutting. Gordon took it out and opened it up into front of him.
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The advertisement had several moving pictures of the relevant broomsticks, which were rotating around their frames. Each of them appeared to be more desperate than the last to get themselves noticed. Gordon spotted the Nimbus Curvehorn that Oliver’s brother had. Apparently it was half price at sixty Galleons, though that still sounded like quite a lot of money to Gordon. Elsewhere on the page Gordon was amused by an extra long broom that was meant to sit several people. The advertisement had written “unsuitable for Quidditch” just above the picture, Gordon laughed to himself trying to imagine a Quidditch team all on one broom.
Gordon didn’t suppose his mother would mind him staying over at Oliver’s, seeing as he spent most of last year away at Hogwarts, but he thought he better give Luke a call.
‘Could you wait there for a second?’ Gordon asked Ledley. ‘I just need to call Luke before I write back.’
Ledley chirped cheerily back, as if glad to have a moment to rest his wings, and Gordon went through to the living room and dialled in Luke’s number. It had not rung for more than a second or two before it was picked up.
‘Hello?’ came Luke’s voice down the phone.
‘Err… it’s me,’ said Gordon.
‘Alright mate!’ said Luke brightly. ‘I take it Oliver’s replied then?’
‘Yeah. Well, no. Sort of. I think he sent this letter before he received my owl, but he’s up for going to Diagon Alley this weekend anyway. He also wanted me to ask if you fancy staying over at his for a few days.’
‘That’d be great!’ said Luke. ‘Hold on, I’ll just ask my mum. MUM!’
Gordon was a bit surprised that Luke seemed so excited about staying over at Oliver’s, as he had never really thought the two of them had gotten on. Luke wasn’t interested in Quidditch enough for Oliver’s liking, and Oliver was far too interested in Quidditch for Luke’s liking. Gordon shrugged, supposing that maybe he was being a bit too judgemental, and began reading the broomstick ad again. As he read over the broomstick prices, he heard Luke talking to his mother on the other end of the phone. The sooner he was flying again the better.
‘Hello? My mum says it’s okay, but…’ he said, his voice taking a slightly exasperated tone. ‘…she says she wants to send Oliver’s parents a letter first.’
‘Oh,’ said Gordon. ‘Well if you could drop it off round here, I could send it with my reply.’
‘Okay,’ said Luke, somewhat dejectedly. ‘I’ll get her to write it as soon as she can. Could you send Edwin over? I’ll go and put on some gloves.’
‘He’s not back yet unfortunately, and Oliver’s owl looks like it’d collapse if it has another journey any time soon. Just bring it over.’
‘Oh! Okay,’ said Luke, sounding slightly relieved at not having to deal with Edwin. ‘See you in a bit.’
‘See you later,’ replied Gordon, and put the phone down.
*
By the time Luke came round, Gordon had already written a reply and was fidgeting with the ribbon to tie it round Ledley’s leg. Luke looked fairly crestfallen when he showed Gordon his mother’s letter.
‘Six pages! I told her we were sending it by owl! It’ll have died of exhaustion before it’s halfway there carrying this!’ moaned Luke.
‘It’ll be fine,’ said Gordon, sensing that Luke was more worried about the effect the letter would have on Oliver’s parents than his owl. ‘We’d better get it sent off.’
Gordon rolled up the letter and wrapped his covering letter around it. He tied them to Ledley’s leg, and the owl gave one more dignified hoot before flying out of the window.
‘How are we going to get to Oliver’s house, Giz? Did they say anything in the letter?’
‘Er…No, actually, they didn’t. I suppose they’ll probably send us another letter about it,’ said Gordon, slightly uncertainly. Luke raised an eyebrow.
Gordon Owen and the Eastern Warrior - Book Two of the Evil Kneazle Series by AurorKeefy
Chapter Notes: Continued thanks to Snape's Talon, for her work all those months ago on this chapter - and so many of the early chapters of this book.
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