Not too slowly, I found out my Mum was a Squib, which you would know the meaning of.
No? Okay, I’ll explain for you. A ‘Squib’ is a person who is born into a wizarding family but doesn’t have magical powers. My Mum is one. Dad’s a Muggle (someone completely devoid of magic, and if all I’ve been saying until now sounds sadly Greek to you, then you’re obviously one as well).
The only other magical person in my family is my uncle, Florean Fortescue. I didn’t know he existed until the letters, when Mum finally had to tell me about him. He’s fantastic; he keeps an ice-cream shop at Diagon Alley - you know, the wizarding market at London? Okay, never mind if you don’t. But it is there, I assure you, and it’s great.
So then, to cut a long story short, I went off to school, got sorted into Ravenclaw (the house for the brainy and the scholarly, which I don’t think is where I belong even if I do love reading), had a fantastic time, and now, I am back home for the summer holidays.
And I’m bored.
Both Mum and Dad have left for work, and my Uncle won’t be at Diagon Alley until tomorrow. As for Rooney, he has been avoiding me. I’ve been going to his house for a few days to see him. He’s never there.
It’s difficult, I suppose. I mean… Well, I don’t exactly know how to put everything together.
Last year, before I had left for school, I told Rooney about my ‘condition’. He seemed to be cool about it. We both knew that there was something odd about me. Though I had been sinking right through the bedstead since I was five, I had never told anyone about my strange abilities. But Rooney had found out before the letters started coming, and he had been okay with it.
See, this is what happened. There is this bully called Big Joe in our neighbourhood. He likes to pick on Rooney and me because we talk back to him. He cornered us one day with two of his equally moronic but muscular pals and beat us nearly into pulp. Then, just as he was leaving, his wispy blonde hair turned blue. His mates just sort of screamed at him and took off. Big Joe, as soon as he had caught his reflection on the puddle near him, fainted.
Rooney and I ran for it (although we did kick him in the face before scampering). We didn’t stop until we reached his house which happened to be nearer.
‘What,’ he asked, gasping, ‘the heck was that?’
I shook my head, pretending I was as dumbfounded even though I had a shrewd suspicion I had been responsible for Big Joe’s new hairdo.
‘His hair … It just became blue.’
‘And woolly,’ I added.
Both of us were quiet for sometime as we sat on the front steps of his house. I suppose we were scared, albeit for different reasons. Rooney was obviously afraid of what had just happened, while I was praying he wouldn’t suspect me of being the freak that caused it.
‘You looked quite odd back there for a moment,’ he said suddenly.
‘What do you mean?’ I demanded.
He looked surprised at my harsh tone. ‘You were sort of staring at him.’
‘Well, of course, I was,’ I said, trying to be calmer. ‘He had just given us a good beating, hadn’t he?’
‘It looked as though you were … concentrating,’ he said carefully. ‘Like, I dunno.’
‘I was angry at him, that’s all.’ I stood up. I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. ‘I should probably go, do something about these wounds.’
‘Yeah, all right.’
The matter would have ended there, but by the time I reached home, all the bruises had magically disappeared. I thought about not seeing Rooney for some days, but he came to see me the next day while I was still in bed.
I had no choice but to tell him.
Rooney can take the best of shocks, I tell you. He’s great. Yet even he went the open-mouthed route when I told him. However, he didn’t run for the hills or shun me. It took him a few minutes to get adjusted to the new me, yet he was soon grinning, thinking how my special powers could help us create more trouble for Big Joe. I had never been more relieved in my life.
When I told him I was going to Hogwarts, he was disappointed. We were planning to attend Huntingdon Hall together. He still wished me luck and we had a good goodbye. I told him I would write to him (my wizard Uncle had got me a black owl - Easter), but he refused, saying his parents would suspect something foul. We promised we would meet during Christmas, but his family took him to Germany to meet his grandparents.
Now that I think of it, how did I miss it? It looks like he has been withdrawing from me since I decided to go to Hogwarts. I’m sure if he wanted, he would have done something about my sending him Easter.
I have got to see him. I mean, it’s embarrassing, having to try and talk to a friend who no longer wants to know you exist, but Rooney has been my best mate since we were three. I guess we owe each other a few explanations.
First, I need to change my clothes, of course. Should I take my wand with me? It’s not like I’m allowed to do magic. Still, what if an emergency happens? I decide to pocket it.
For the hundredth time in two weeks, I ring the bell at Rooney’s house. I know what’s going to happen. His Mum is going to open the door, look shifty, and tell me he’s not at home. Today, however, I won’t back down.
To my surprise, it’s Rooney who answers. Both of us stare at each other forever.
‘Uh … Hi,’ I blurt out.
He gulps loudly. ‘Hi, Andy.’
The fact that he replies gives me some strength. ‘So, may I come in?’
‘Sure.’
It’s a relief to see his freckly face breaking into a smile, no matter how reluctant it looks. His Labrador, Chapman, comes bounding at me.
‘Hello, Chapman!’ I greet the dog, nuzzling behind his ears.
‘How are you?’ I ask Rooney as I follow him into their living room with Chapman trotting at my heels. Which makes me suspicious. Rooney always takes me to his room when I am at his place.
‘Good, Andy. You?’
‘Spiffing,’ I tell him, mimicking the voice of our old teacher, Mrs Holmes, who loved the word.
He doesn’t laugh. He gestures me to sit on a sofa, while he takes the armchair opposite it.
‘How’s Huntingdon?’ I ask him cheerily as I try to stop Chapman from licking my face.
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Huntingdon? I don’t go there. Chapman!’
The dog rushes to him.
‘Oh.’
‘I’m attending Oakdene School for Boys.’
Now, it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘I thought you hated that place because they had rugby, not football?’
He shrugs. ‘Football isn’t everything.’
This is beginning to bug me, for some reason. ‘Are you telling me if I go up to your room right now, I won’t find it plastered with Leeds United posters?’
‘No.’
‘No Lee Chapman? No Eric Cantona?’
‘You’re way out of touch, mate. Chapman’s in Portsmouth now. Cantona left for Manchester United last November. They were offering him a million pounds.’
‘Oh’ is my answer for the second time in ten minutes.
‘It’s …’ he says, struggling for something, ‘you can’t trust anything anymore.’
‘What do you mean?’
He shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Obviously, there is something, or you wouldn’t say what you just said,’ I tell him. ‘Rooney!’
‘You were supposed to go to Huntingdon with me,’ he says before he can stop himself.
I stare at him as his face turns red; I suppose he hadn’t been planning to mention that part to me.
‘I - You know I had no choice!’ I yell at him without meaning to.
‘Yeah, right,’ he replies, picking up my tone, ‘I suppose, because you’re a weirdo now! Why don’t you go play with that ice-cream Uncle of yours?’
‘You didn’t mean that.’
His face goes redder. I know Rooney is embarrassed, but he doesn’t correct himself. I stand up intending to leave. ‘I’m sorry I came here,’ I say, shaking with anger. ‘I reckon you don’t want to be seen with me as I’m a weirdo. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me, isn’t it?’
He looks stricken. I make a show of ignoring him as I walk out of the place, all the while hoping he would call me back.
I kick the park bench in frustration, earning myself a stinging pain in the foot.
As I hop around on one foot, I try to figure out Rooney’s reaction. He is angry at me. But why should he be? I told him everything last year. He knew that for someone like me, Hogwarts was the only option. If I were a Muggle, I would have stayed and gone to Huntingdon with him, wouldn’t I? Why he is being thick?
Okay, maybe, he thought I had deserted him. I mean, as soon as I had met Uncle Florean, I had more or less spent the remainder of the holiday with him, buying my school things, and digging into my new books. Yet I offered to write to Rooney! And it was his fault he went away at Christmas. I didn’t ask him to go to stupid Germany.
I mean I missed him, too. I missed him a great deal. I miss him even now as I curse myself for kicking that bench.
If this is what he wants, though, fine! I am not going to trouble him any further. I am not going to -
‘Look what we got here, lads,’ speaks someone behind me.
I freeze on the spot. I know who that hateful, creepy voice belongs to - a certain blue-haired boy.
‘Big Joe.’
‘Yes, it’s me, your old friend,’ he says, breaking into an obnoxious laugh. I finally turn around and find Big Joe standing there and cracking his knuckles, flanked by two trollish sidekicks whose names I don’t know to this day. He’s wearing a baseball cap in an effort to hide his hair.
‘How have you been then?’ I ask him casually.
He sneers at me. ‘Think you have the nerve to talk to me, Carlton?’
‘Nah, just wondering whether your hair is still blue and woolly.’
He acts before I can process his movements. A second later, I’m lying on the ground.
‘Your nutter friend is not around to save you today, Carlton,’ he says to my confusion, sitting on his haunches next to me. ‘Look at what he’s done to my hair, eh?’ he continues as he pulls off his cap and shows me the vivid, woolly mass of hair. ‘I try to colour it blonde, and it goes blue the next morning. I try to shave it all off, and it grows back the next morning. And who’s gonna pay for it? You, Carlton.’
Even as I’m reeling from the pain that has assaulted my behind, I can’t help but snicker; Big Joe reckons that Rooney was the one who pulled the trick on him.
‘Think that’s funny, d’you?’ he snaps. ‘Let’s see who’s laughing when I punch the shite out of you.’ He stands up. ‘Get the moron up, boys!’ he orders them.
His sidekicks step forward to pull me up; I toss the Statute of Secrecy aside and reach for my wand…and then realise it’s not in my pocket. ‘Crap!’ I exclaim as I get dragged up by the two boys. But before Big Joe can do anything to me, someone else arrives on the scene.
‘Leave him alone,’ says Rooney forcefully.
All of us turn to stare at the freckly, dark-haired boy. He cuts quite a picture at the moment, Rooney. One hand is holding the leash of Chapman, the huge Labrador who doesn’t look quite so cheery at the moment; the other is armed with a brown paper packet.
I can feel Big Joe and his pals tensing. ‘Hello, Rooney Loony,’ says Big Joe, attempting and failing to sound as though he isn’t scared. ‘Out to pull some magic tricks?’
At first, Rooney seems as confused as I was moments ago, but he recovers quickly. ‘Yeah. D’you want me to turn your little prick blue and woolly as well?’
Big Joe’s sidekicks take a step backwards, but their leader holds the ground (although, I’m sure he’s trembling). ‘You do that, and I’ll knock the stuffing out of your friend.’
Rooney laughs. I’m betting he sees the irony of the situation here, and is enjoying it as well. ‘Sure, sure, you will. But my dog here isn’t too happy with you, Big Joe. So, I’d be careful not to make any stupid moves.’
Chapman growls on cue.
‘I’ll tell everyone!’ shouts Big Joe. ‘I’ll tell them what a nutter you are!’
‘Yeah, and they’ll believe you,’ replies Rooney with a snort.
‘Grab Carlton,’ says Big Joe, and the two boys take hold of me before I can escape. Big Joe takes out a small penknife and holds it at my throat.
‘Are you mental?’ asks one of his friends for me. My own throat has run dry.
‘Shut up!’ yells Big Joe. Chapman starts barking like crazy at him.
‘Keep that dog shut, Rooney, or your friend gets it.’
‘Chapman!’ orders Rooney. ‘Quiet!’
The Labrador becomes silent, though his sharp teeth are still on display.
‘I’m leaving,’ murmurs one of the two boys and he takes off. The other one follows suit. Big Joe swears loudly, then grabs me with his left hand while his right one keeps the penknife poised at the neck.
So, it is now just me, Big Joe, and Rooney. And Chapman, who looks as though he’d like nothing better than to sink his teeth into Big Joe’s butt.
‘You prat,’ muttered Rooney coldly, ‘what do you think you’re doing?’
‘Go on,’ says Big Joe, licking his lips, ‘do something about my hair, and I’ll let him go.’
Rooney stares helplessly at me. I stare helplessly back.
‘All right then,’ he says, taking out my wand out of his pocket. ‘I give you the treatment, and you give Andy back. Cool?’
Big Joe glances at the wand. ‘What’s that?’
‘Magic stick,’ answers Rooney.
‘Okay,’ says Big Joe in a small voice. ‘Go on, then.’
‘Abracadabra,’ says Rooney dramatically, pointing his wand at the brown paper packet. ‘Tim-buc-too! Turn Big Joe’s hair to blonde from blue!’
Nothing happens, of course, though Big Joe doesn’t know that.
‘Eat this,’ advises Rooney with a confidence I have to admire, ‘and the colour will go away in two months’ time.’
‘Why two months?’ asks Big Joe, taking his knife away from me, and snatching the packet from Rooney’s outstretched hand.
‘Because it takes time to undo bad magic,’ replies Rooney. ‘Eat one piece a day.’
‘What the hell is this thing, anyway?’ asks Big Joe, his expression suspicious as he sniffs the packet.
‘Pork scratchings,’ Roonie tells him smoothly. ‘Enchanted to cure your hair.’
‘Goodbye then,’ says Big Joe. I can see he’s eager to leave us.
‘Yeah, just get lost.’
The two of us watch the big bully walk way. Just as he turns around the corner, he shouts, ‘NUTTER!’ and then scarpers as Rooney releases Chapman on him.
‘You left your wand,’ Rooney tells me, handing it over.
I take it and slip it inside my pocket. ‘Wouldn’t have been any use. We aren’t allowed to do magic outside of school. And…I can’t risk the kind of magic I did last year anymore.’
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ he says. ‘I did it for you.’
We catch each other’s eye and burst into laughter. We laugh for a long time, clutching our stomachs, and then roll on the ground.
‘What - what did you give him?’ I ask him, pausing for breath.
‘Dried dog food.’
We break into laughter again.
It’s late afternoon now, and Rooney and I are playing with Chapman and a Frisbee. Neither of us found it necessary to bring up our earlier argument, so we are just ignoring it and getting on as if nothing happened.
He throws the Frisbee really high; it flies straight across a knot of branches of a tree around fifteen meters away. Chapman hurries off in search of it.
‘You know you’d make a grand Chaser!’ I tell him enthusiastically.
‘A what?’
I bite my lips. ‘A - a Chaser. It’s a position in this wizarding sport.’
‘Oh.’
Why did I have to say it?
‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble.
‘You don’t have to be,’ he answers, shaking his head. ‘I’ve been a right git, Andy. It’s all my fault, not yours.’
‘No - I shouldn’t have - ’
‘You shouldn’t have what?’ he demands. ‘You were right. You had to go to Hogwarts. You had no choice. I was … I guess I was selfish.’
‘No, I should have made an effort to hang out with you last year before leaving.’ The words come out of mind as naturally as though I had felt them all along without knowing it. ‘I started spending too much time with my Uncle. I mean, you’ve been my best friend for years. It must have looked like I didn’t care about you anymore.’
He blushes, proving my theory right. ‘I was an idiot,’ he says, keeping his eyes on Chapman. ‘I was jealous, I suppose. Not because you’re a wizard, though that’s seriously amazing. I was just upset you weren’t around anymore, and you seemed to be enjoying it too much.’
‘It’s all cool, magic and Hogwarts,’ I tell him, ‘but I missed you.’ I become very awkward at this point, yet I need to tell him. ‘You’ll always be my best mate. And, to tell you the truth, I love being a Muggle, too, because you’re there to keep up the fun.’
He grins. ‘The reason I didn’t go to Huntington,’ he begins after a while.
‘I know,’ I tell him. ‘You don’t have to say it.’
Neither of us can look at the other anymore, but I know we are both very happy at the moment. We got each other back.