Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The owl post was remarkably fast. By the time Suer and the others reached home, an enormous stack of books was already waiting outside the Grangers’ front door.

“Maybe I did buy a few too many.” Hermione stuck out her tongue sheepishly.

Over the days that followed, she naturally immersed herself in her new magical books.

Every day, she brought her wand to the Ellisons’ house to practice the spells mentioned in *The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One*: Reparo, the Levitation Charm, Alohomora, and so on.

As everyone knew, practicing magic required something on which to use it.

Alohomora, for example, required a locked lock. Thus, the locks in the Granger home became Hermione’s experimental subjects.

Young witches and wizards often struggled to control the magic inside them. As a result, their spells might be just the tiniest bit stronger–or weaker–than intended.

Hermione stared innocently at the smoking hole in her front door. Mrs. Granger stood on the other side of it.

“Miss Granger, I must remind you that this is the fourth lock we have fitted to our house.”

“Sorry, Mum.”

Hermione lowered her head and admitted her mistake meekly.

Standing on the lawn, Suer happily tossed a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean into his mouth.

Oh, damn it. Rotten egg.

“You have to teach me. I followed every instruction in the book, so why do I keep failing?”

Hermione approached him looking utterly dejected.

“It isn’t fair. How did you learn all of them so easily?”

How was Suer supposed to explain?

He truly had mastered several basic spells after only a few attempts. He had no idea why either.

“Well… perhaps you could ask your wand?” he suggested hesitantly.

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“You’re brushing me off again!”

“No. Demonstrate it for me one more time. I’ll watch.”

“Bwother, what are you doing?”

Angel came bouncing downstairs after her nap.

“Are you practicing magic again? When can you make a unicorn for me?”

“I’ll make one when I’ve learned how. Right now, I need to demonstrate a spell for silly Granger. Angel, could you go inside and lock the door for me?”

“Okay!”

Angel bounced back into the house and obediently locked the door.

“You’re the silly one, you great pigheaded idiot!” Hermione glared viciously at Suer and marched toward the door. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

Suer shrugged, took out his wand, and joined her.

Hermione stayed for dinner at the Ellisons’ house that evening. During the meal, mischievous Angel broke a china plate, and Hermione immediately volunteered to repair it.

Her hopes were lofty. Reality was merciless.

Under the expectant gazes of Mr. and Mrs. Ellison, she managed to make the broken plate even more broken.

“Ha–”

Suer’s laugh escaped before he could stop it.

Hermione fixed him with the predatory stare of a young lioness.

“Suer?” Mrs. Ellison gave him an equally reproachful look.

Fine, fine.

Suer retrieved his wand from Angel.

“Reparo!”

The fragments gathered beneath his wand tip as though pulled by invisible threads, joining together until the plate was whole again.

Angel clapped happily.

“Bwother is amazing!”

“It’s nothing special,” Hermione muttered with a pout.

Suer gave her a smug look and returned the wand to Angel.

Outside, two cloaked figures hurried out of the night. One looked around while muttering to himself, then drew a silver, boxlike object from inside his cloak. He opened it, revealing a tiny catch.

Raising the object, he pressed the catch.

Click.

The nearest streetlamp went dark. Then the others quietly winked out one by one. Only when the street outside Number 445 had fallen completely into darkness did he tuck the box away.

“This is the place, isn’t it, Nymphadora?” asked a deep male voice.

“Don’t call me Nymphadora,” his companion complained.

She pushed back her hood, revealing a pale face and fiery red hair.

“The people at the Ministry of Magic said it was here, so it should be right. The magical traces are pathetically weak. We could have ignored them.”

Inside the house, Suer held a chicken leg just within Angel’s reach, then wickedly pulled it away whenever she came close. Mr. and Mrs. Ellison watched the game with amusement, and laughter filled the dining room.

Knock, knock.

Angel wriggled anxiously, trying to climb down and answer the door. Her usual chair was still locked in the room from their spell practice, so she had been placed in a high chair instead.

Mrs. Ellison lifted her down. Angel ran to the entrance and opened the door.

“Oh, what an adorable little girl,” a woman said outside. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Angel. Big Sis, are you wizards?”

Angel cheerfully struck up a conversation with the strangers. A moment later, she led two people in wizarding robes into the dining room.

One was a Black wizard with a resolute face. The other was the red-haired witch.

The witch swept her gaze around the room, then looked back at the wizard and complained,

“See? I told you there wouldn’t be any wizard attacking Muggles here.”

“Good evening. My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

The wizard surveyed the room as well. Visibly relieved, he removed his cloak.

“We are from the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic.”

“Wizards? What can we do for you?” Mr. Ellison asked in confusion.

“It seems we were overly cautious,” Kingsley said. “The Ministry received reports of frequent magical fluctuations in this neighbourhood. We were concerned that a wizard might be attacking Muggles, which would violate wizarding law.”

His gaze moved to the only two older children at the table. It paused when it reached Suer’s face.

“You are new Hogwarts students?”

“Yes,” Hermione said carefully. “We’ve been practicing magic recently. Is that–?”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” the witch interrupted. “There have been a lot of attacks on Muggles lately, so everyone at the Ministry is a little tense.”

She smiled.

“I’m Nymphadora Tonks, by the way, but I hate being called Nymphadora. Just call me Tonks.”

“A friendly word of advice: new students should avoid using magic on their own.”

“Oh.” Hermione nodded.

“Is the magical world really so dangerous?” Mrs. Ellison asked worriedly.

She was beginning to reconsider sending Suer away to study magic, extraordinary though it was.

“Hogwarts is very safe, madam,” Kingsley assured her. “Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards alive. Under his protection, nothing will happen there.”

Mrs. Ellison plainly did not find that entirely convincing.

“Big Sis.”

Angel quietly approached Tonks.

“Can you make a unicorn?”

“A unicorn?” Tonks tilted her head. “Magical creatures can’t be created with magic, dear.”

“But… but…” Angel protested anxiously. “The white-bearded old mister made one for Angel.”

“White-bearded old mister?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore visited us,” Suer explained. “He probably transformed a horse to look like a unicorn.”

Over the last few days, Suer and Hermione had read a good portion of their required textbooks. The opening pages of *A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration* described Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, including the principle that objects or living beings with magical properties could not be produced through Transfiguration.

“That’s easy.” Tonks snapped her fingers and drew her wand.

“Tonks!” Kingsley frowned in displeasure. “Do not forget that the Ministry forbids us from using magic in front of Muggles.”

Tonks waved the objection away.

“Relax. We’re only giving two new Hogwarts students a tiny demonstration of how marvelous magic can be.”

She looked around for something suitable to transform.

“If you don’t mind, use this.” Suer patted the stool beneath him.

“Oh, thank you, dear.”

Tonks gave him a charming smile, prompting Hermione to wrinkle her nose.

The stool twisted and changed beneath Tonks’s wand, becoming a silver horse–though it lacked a horn.

“Nearly forgot.”

She waved her wand again. A single horn “grew” from the horse’s forehead.

“There.”

Tonks tucked her wand back into her robes and dusted off her hands.

Angel cheered and immediately tried to climb onto its back. No matter how she tugged and twisted, however, the horse did not move.

“It won’t go,” she said miserably.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” Tonks replied. “Professor Dumbledore’s Transfiguration is far beyond mine. I haven’t reached his level yet.”

“The Bones family is famous for Transfiguration in the magical world…” Kingsley said, looking at Suer.

There was that name again, spoken by yet another wizard.

Was Bones truly so famous?

Suer searched his memories and found almost nothing. He only vaguely recalled a girl in Harry’s year at Hogwarts named Susan Bones.

He had no idea whether her Bones family was the same as his.

“You’re from the Bones family? But…” Tonks stared at Suer in surprise.

“My name now is Suer Ellison,” Suer said with a shake of his head.

Kingsley was silent for a moment.

“Bones is a name of valor and honor.”

“But the Bones family does not depend on me for its survival, does it, sir?” Suer asked quietly.

Perhaps the Bones family was renowned throughout the magical world. Perhaps it possessed wealth beyond measure.

But Suer had grown up cherished by Mr. and Mrs. Ellison. At the very least, here in this home, he wanted to remain an Ellison.

The atmosphere abruptly grew tense.

“Suer!” Mr. Ellison said sharply.

That was rare. He sounded angry.

Kingsley sighed, his expression losing its earlier interest.

“Let’s go, Tonks.”

The two wizards soon left the Ellison home. As they departed, the streetlamps came on again, one after another.

Hermione left later. Before she went, she gave Suer a worried look.

“Come with me.”

Mr. Ellison delivered the command stiffly, then went upstairs.

Suer hesitated where he stood. At last, encouraged by Mrs. Ellison’s silent reassurance, he followed.

He and Mr. Ellison sat facing one another in the second-floor study. Silence stretched between them.

“Suer,” Mr. Ellison began, “I know you must have come from somewhere.”

“Dad…” Suer’s lips trembled.

Mr. Ellison continued.

“When Suli found you, your name was written on your swaddling blanket: Suer Bones. Yes, we knew your surname from the beginning. Your mother has kept that blanket safe all these years.”

“Over the years, I tried to learn whether there was a family named Bones, but I never found anything.”

Mr. Ellison sighed.

“You were not born to us, but Suli has always treated you as her own son. So have I.”

“Your full name should actually be Suer Bones Ellison.”

“I wanted to find your birth family because whether or not you choose to accept that surname, they are the ones who gave you life.”

“That gift cannot be erased. Even though they have passed away, Bones blood still flows through your veins.”

“I do not know what the Bones family means in the magical world or how distinguished it might be. I only hope you learn gratitude and acceptance.”

“Some things–some responsibilities–cannot simply be wished away.”

“You are an intelligent boy. You should understand what I mean.”

Mr. Ellison looked at Suer expectantly.

After a long silence, Suer nodded.

“I understand, Dad.”

Mr. Ellison smiled with relief.

“Good. Go downstairs and play with Angel.”

Suer nodded and opened the study door. Mrs. Ellison stood outside, worry in her eyes.

He paused, then hugged her tightly.

“Thank you, Mum.”

Mrs. Ellison smiled, gently returning his embrace and stroking his hair.

“You never need to thank me, my child.”