Magical Fire
by M. F. Luder
Part one
8. our own world
Picking up a beer bottle, Ryan sits down on the couch. Theresa sits by his side and smiles at him. She doesn't have to ask, Ryan knows. He takes a sip of the beet before handing it to her. She gives him a small kiss on the corner of his lips as a thank you.
Ryan leans back, arms folded on his chest as he watches her drink the beer. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, he can kiss her before going home. Not bad for an eleven year old.
Standing up, he crosses Eddie's garage toward the small table on the corner. Trey, Eddie, Arturo and Jack are playing poker. Ryan eyes idly Eddie's cards as he reaches inside the cooler for another beer. Eddie has a pocket Queens. Ryan's gaze shifts to Trey's hands. Trey pops his knuckles with his thumb and Ryan knows he doesn't have a good hand. Trey always does that when he doesn't have a good hand.
Ryan sees Arturo passing a cig to Trey and he inhales deeply.
They've been passing the pot around for almost an hour now. Ryan's surprised they can play being that stoned. But they have, and Trey has been losing money slowly and pot makes Trey edgy. At seventeen, an edgy Trey is a dangerous Trey.
Ryan pauses, standing by the table and watches as Trey bluffs Eddie with 50 bucks. Eddie grins. Ryan's jaw sets. Eddie pays the fifty and shows him his cards.
"You bastard," Trey says, pushing back his chair and standing up.
Eddie chuckles as he takes the 120 bucks from the table. "You're a shitty ass loser Trey. That's your fucking problem."
Ryan takes a step toward his brother. "Trey..."
"You fucking cheated, Eddie, you asshole."
Eddie snorts. "Fuck you."
Ryan places his hand on Trey's arm. Trey shakes it off, taking out a blade from his back pocket. Ryan had forgotten Trey had brought it. "Give me back my money."
"Like hell I will."
Arturo stands up, hands raised. "Hermanos, come on. Cool it. It's only plata."
Ryan can almost foresee what will happen. Trey will try to take the money from Eddie. Eddie won't give in. They'll start fighting and Trey could get hurt, will most certainly get hurt.
Jack tries to calm down Trey but Trey's too stoned to listen to either of them. Ryan glances at Arturo's blade, hanging in his belt just as Eddie snatches it. All hell is about to break loose.
Ryan closes his eyes and thinks that the only thing that would save Trey at the moment would be a distraction, any distraction really.
"Holy shit!"
Ryan opens his eyes at Eddie's scream, gaze flickering as he looks at what's going on. The corner of the tarp covering Eddie's father old Toyota has caught on fire.
Trey starts laughing as Arturo picks up his beer from the table and pours it on. The flame grows taller, bigger. Trey keeps on laughing, leaning against the table to hold his weight. Eddie joins in, both too stoned to care either way.
Water is splashed on the flame, killing it before it can do more damage.
Ryan turns around to see Theresa standing by the car, a bucket in her hands. "Mancha de cojudos," she mutters under her breath.
"That's weird," Jack says after a moment, making his way to the tarp. He picks up the corner.
The corner is barely burned, only about two square inches. Ryan could have sworn more should have burned, especially after Arturo threw the beer on it. It should have extended.
Shaking his head, Ryan turns around to see Trey and Eddie talking like nothing had happened, the almost fight long ago forgotten. This will end up being another anecdote of their about playing poker while stoned.
Ryan snorts, picking up his bottle of beer once again as the guys sit down at the table. Well, fuck. Next time Ryan doesn't know if Trey will be so lucky. Frowning, he sits down at the couch and drinks his beer slowly, not caring when Theresa takes her sit by his side.
Standing up, Ryan rubs his eyes with his fits. He yawns, covering his mouth with his hands as he turns around and looks at Trey.
Trey's lying down on the bed on his stomach, eyes closed. Ryan knows he'll probably sleep all the way until mid morning, maybe even until lunch, considering they didn't get back from Eddie way after midnight.
Sighing, he walks out of the bedroom they share and into the kitchen. His mom is nowhere to be found.
Leaning forward, he pushes one of the window curtains aside, wondering if maybe she's outside, talking to Mrs. Herrera. She's not, the street is empty, if only for a white owl standing on the edge of the fence.
Ryan frowns. Aren't owls supposed to go out only at night?
Rolling his eyes, he lets go of the curtain and opens the cupboard. He gets out a box of cereal and places it on top of the counter before reaching for the milk. He sighs as there is none left in the fridge. Nothing but a piece of cheese and a box of mac and cheese Ryan has no idea what it's doing inside.
Slamming the door closed, Ryan turns around and picks up the bowl, making his way to the small living room area. He turns on the TV as he seats on the couch. He eats the dry cereal with his hand as Scooby Doo starts.
An hour later, as something else is starting in the same channel, the door opens, his mom walking in. Ryan gives a quick glance to his watch. Almost eleven in the morning. Where the hell was she this early?
She says nothing, of course, and Ryan doesn't actually expect her to. But when she glances his way, her eyes are dilated and Ryan snorts. Now he knows where she was, who she was with and just how much she scored for the day and fuck if it isn't too fucking early to be high.
He wonders about telling her something, asking her where she was even though Ryan knows perfectly well, but just for the heck of it. He doesn't, only gives her a sideways look before glancing back at the TV. Not saying anything, she bumps into the couch before making her way into the kitchen.
Ryan shakes his head and out of the corner of his eyes he can see a stack of envelopes under the couch. He sighs. They've probably been under there for God knows how long. Retrieving them, he wonders how many of them are already over due. It's almost end of July, but he's certain water and electricity were due sometime last week.
He pushes aside two thick envelops and he really doesn't want to look at them this early.
Ryan blinks, head cocked to the side as his eyes fall onto a yellowish old envelope, looking nothing like regular paper. Flipping it over, he reads the recipient, written in large calligraphy emerald green letters,
Mr. R. Atwood
The Bed in the Right Side of the Room
17 Etter Street
Chino, Orange County. California.
United States of America
Ryan frowns. What the fuck?
He doesn't know what's weirder about the letter. The calligraphy, which kinda gives him the creeps, though he doesn't really know why, but still. Or maybe the line about the bed. How did they know he has the right bed, while Trey has the left one? And why would they put that kind of information in the recipient space? That doesn't make sense.
Either way, he blinks as he stares at it, turning it over in his hands and at the red wax seal. Wax, for God's sake. Wax.
It says Hogwarts in big black letters, four animals in the seal. A lion, a snake, one that seems to be a... what? A beaver? And another one he doesn't recognize at all. Underneath all that, it says Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillanuds. Latin, probably, and that does nothing to ease Ryan's mind.
Figuring the only way to answer the million and one questions running through his mind is to actually open the damn letter, he does so.
It takes him a moment to read what it says. It takes him even longer to understand it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Atwood,
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
Well, hmm. What the fuck?
Ryan shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with his left fist, right hand still holding the letter tightly. There's something wrong with his eyes, probably. It has to be. Because, this thing? This letter right here, in his hand as Ryan stares down at it again, it's not real.
accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Witchcraft? What the hell is that exactly? Wizardry? What does that mean? School? Like, a high school, only not. Maybe. Perhaps. Ryan sure as hell as no freaking idea. Also, hmm, an owl? Where is he supposed to find an owl? Does he have to, like, mail an owl? Like, the meat, or the whole owl? And what exactly does that mean?
Oh, what about the whole necessary books and equipment?
He unfolds the second piece of paper, eyeing it carefully, like it might attack him if manhandled.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
wand cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set
glass or crystal phials
telescope set
brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Ryan's eyes squint, head tilted to the side as he places the letter closer to his face. He's reading this wrong, right? Because, an owl? A cat or a toad? Dragon hide, transfiguration and fungi?
It takes him a moment for realization to drawn on his face and he snorts, shaking his head.
"Yeah, right. Trey, you asshole."
Shaking his head, letter still in his hands, he turns around and makes his way back to the bed. Standing before Trey's bed, he starts shaking him.
"Trey. Trey." Another shake as Trey only grumbles and turns around on the bed. "Trey, you asshole, wake up. You suck at jokes and this one is beyond moronic."
It takes Ryan another minute to force an almost dead Trey into the world of the living and he groans as he opens his eyes.
"Fuck, Ryan." He sits down on the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists. "If it's before one, I swear to God I'll kill you, you little prat."
"Yeah, right." When Trey opens his eyes, Ryan throws the letter to his face. "What the fuck is this Trey? Your idea of a sick joke? Or was it Eddie's, huh?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"This, you idiot."
Rubbing his left eyebrow, Trey picks up the piece of letter, having to blink at it a couple of times, his eyes still foggy with sleep. "What the fuck?"
"My thoughts exactly."
Trey looks at Ryan, head cocked to the side. "You got this?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Don't play stupid, Trey. Stop it, okay? It's not funny." Ryan folds his arms on his chest before taking a seat on his bed, barely twenty inches from Trey's own. "It stopped being funny a long time ago."
Trey snorts. "What, you think I did that?"
"Who else?" Ryan rolls his eyes. "That letter is bullshit. You know it, I know it. Now, if you didn't do it, then it had to be Eddie. Or Arturo. Arturo has this sick sense of humor, it probably was Arturo."
Trey shakes his head, placing the letter by his side on the bed and picking up the second piece of paper, reading the list of course books. "Nope. This isn't Arturo. He doesn't have half a brain to come up with this shit. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? See, not Arturo at all."
"Then Eddie. Or Theresa." Ryan frowns, thinking about it for a moment. Theresa, who had been taunting him last night with the promise of a kiss. He was never going to kiss her. Never. He'd kiss Andrea, and in front of Theresa, just out of spite.
"I don't think so, Ryan." He looks closely at the letter, at the calligraphy and the list of equipment. Somehow, it strikes him as legit and tells so to Ryan.
"What, are you insane? Too much pot fried your brain?" Ryan shakes his head, standing up from the bed. "That's a prank. A stupid one, but a prank. What, they thought they could rip us off, offering us, what, a cauldron to buy or something like that?"
"Man, I don't know. Who would bother to put all this shit together? That's some serious fucked up letter, Ryan." Trey reads about the uniform. "One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear? See? That's too much work for them, you know that. Besides, this isn't Theresa's handwrite. Hers looks like chicken noodles."
If not for the fact that if they were to fuck with his baby brother, Trey knows they would have gotten the thing past him before. They wouldn't dare to something like this without Trey's input, and permission. If someone was to pull a fast one on Ryan, it had to be Trey and Trey alone.
So, no, it had to be legit. As much as it surprised Trey, as much as it obviously shocked Ryan, this thing was anything but not a prank.
"This thing, man. Ryan." He shakes his head, leaning forward and giving the letter back to Ryan. "I think it's..."
"Don't say it."
Trey grins, tilting his head as he picks up the envelope to look at it more closely. "What? That it might actually be legit? That you might actually be some sort of... magician?"
Ryan glares at him through squinted blue eyes. "Shut up."
Laughing, Trey throws his head back. "Man, you're really pissed off about this, aren't you? Ryan, bro, I mean, maybe it's true. You know? It could be. Who knows?"
"It's not. It's a fucking joke--"
"Really?" Trey lifts an eyebrow as he looks at the envelope. "The bed in the right side of the room? Who talks like that? Besides, who actually knows that? Up until, what, a week, we were sharing a bed, remember?"
Ryan sighs, running a hand through his hair. So what if that was true? What if they had been sharing his mom's double bed and she was sleeping in now Trey's bed until Trey bought this other bed, the one Ryan now sleeps in, cheap, giving them a chance not to share a freaking bed for the first time. That didn't mean...
Only, he knows he hadn't told anyone about it. Trey bought it from a guy who knew a guy. Arturo didn't know about it, Trey said a while back. Nor Eddie, probably, and he sure as hell hadn't told Theresa.
"Fuck."
Trey laughs once again. "Watch your mouth baby brother. This school probably has regulations and I don't think swearing is allowed." He glances down at the old looking paper for a moment, noticing something he hadn't before. Under the ripped seal on the back, which he can't read beside Hogwarts in big bold letters, there's an address of some sort.
Somewhere United Kingdom
"And man, I think it's a boarding school at that."
"What?"
Trey nods, handing Ryan the envelope. "Yeah, read that."
Ryan reads it, wondering how he didn't notice it before. Well, yeah, like things couldn't be any worse. "I'm fucked."
"No, I think you're kinda lucky." He chuckles, pushing back the covers to stand up. "I always knew you were a freak, and man," he says, walking past Ryan and messing his hair as he does so, "it's nice to be proven right."
"Fuck you, Trey."
Trey laughs as he walks out of the bedroom. "Up yours, magical Ryan."
It's past midmorning when Ryan actually dares to show the letter to Dawn.
"What is this?"
Ryan shrugs, not certain about it himself. "Don't know."
"Apparently Ryan has been accepted in some fancy boarding school." Trey says, taking a drag of his cigarette as a matter of lunch. There's no food on the table, but that's nothing new. He'll get something when he goes out with Ryan, make sure the boy has at least a sandwich in his stomach.
Dawn glances at the letter as if expecting it to bite. "Boarding school?"
Trey snorts, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Fucking bitch she can be sometimes. "Yeah, boarding school. It's in the UK, so I don't think he'll be coming home in the afternoons, you know?"
"UK?"
Can't you fucking read? Trey thinks, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, United Kingdom. Check the envelope."
Ryan hands her the envelope, glancing at Trey out of the corner of his eyes, head tilted to the side. He knows her mother and knows that a snappish tone when he wants to ask her for something isn't going to get him very far. If he wants her to pay for it, Trey has to stop with the attitude or otherwise he's screwed.
Ryan and Dawn sit in silence around the small kitchen table, Trey leaning against the kitchen counter, as she reads the back of the envelope and the rest of the letter.
"Well, fuck." She shakes her head, placing the letter on top of the table as she reaches for her own cigarette. Her hand's shaking slightly and Ryan knows she's still high in whatever it is she snorted today. "Too bad you won't go."
Trey squints. "What the fuck do you mean, he won't go?"
Dawn chuckles. "What, you think I've got money for that shit? That stuff, that... stuff sounds pretty fucking expensive Trey, so unless you're shitting money when you go to the can, I ain't got it."
"No." Trey pushes himself off the kitchen counter he had been leaning against, shaking his head. "He's going, Dawn, fuck. He's going."
"Well, wishful thinking won't get you anywhere Trey. You know that."
"Man, you're a bitch, aren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up, Trey. Don't you fucking dare--"
"What, talk to you like that?" Trey snorts, shaking his head as she pushes her chair back, standing her ground. He makes his way up to her face. "Is that it? You fucking mind me talking to you like this? Like you ever talked to us differently. Like all we ever did wasn't be a bump on the road to you? Fuck you. Do you hear me? Fuck you. This is Ryan's chance to get the fuck out of here, to be someone and hell if he's gonna lose that because of you."
Dawn raises her head and stares right into her son's eyes even though he's grown taller than her in the past two years. "And what, you're gonna pay for all this shit? Is that it? You're gonna pay for it with your hard earned money?" She snorts. "Right, like you even have money besides for buying pot." She shakes her head. "Listen to me Trey, I don't have the fucking money. Period."
"Maybe if you didn't snort it."
She turns around, her eyes wide as she hears Ryan's snappish voice. "What did you say?"
Ryan takes a deep breath, looking up to his mother. He might be only eleven and still shorter than her, but he isn't going to let her get away with this. Not this fucking time. Not anymore.
She advances with rapid steps, griping Ryan's forearm tightly as she pulls his face up to hers. "What the fuck did you say?"
Ryan swallows past the nervousness he can feel in his throat. This is his mother and even now, Ryan thinks she deserves some respect. But he can't find it himself to show it to her. "You heard me."
"Well," Trey says, grinning as he finishes the butt. "He kinda has a point there, you know?"
"Fuck you," Dawn hisses, pushing him away from her.
Ryan staggers back, hitting his hip against the chair and it skits back before falling down. He blinks, his lower lip trembling and he bites down on it, not wanting to show anything to her. He doesn't know if he hates her in that moment, but he comes pretty close to it as he feels anger burning in the back of his throat.
"Get out. Both of you. Get the fuck out of my house."
"Gladly." Trey says takes a step forward and toward the front door. When Ryan doesn't join him, he pauses, and calls over his shoulder. "Ryan?"
Ryan takes a deep breath, his chest tight. This is his mother, for God's sake. His mother looking at him with so much disdain his heart almost breaks. He wants to hug her around her waist and burry his face in her chest, to cry and for her to pet his hair like she used to do when he was sick, when he was very little.
Ryan knows she won't do that anymore, not now. Not ever.
He nods, hurrying past her and toward the door, Trey following him closely. He doesn't look back when he hears the door slamming close after the two of them.
Ryan looks up from his lap, his right hand drumming against this thigh in nervousness. This time they are hanging in Arturo and Theresa's house, their mother off at work.
The guys are drinking the beer, talking about something Ryan can't really follow as they play another hand of poker. Theresa's sitting by his side, arms folded on her chest, probably bored to death. Right now, Ryan is not great company, at all.
So far, for the past three hours, he's been doing nothing but sitting here, nursing a coke instead of a beer, and trying to get around the letter and the whole magical concept.
Idly, his left hand pats his pants pocket, the letter safely inside. He lets out a soft sigh as he feels the bump of the wrinkled paper, having been folded already so many times, Ryan fears it'll rip in the creased lines and then where in hell will he find a copy of the list of books?
After a moment, Theresa sighs and stands up. "I'm going out."
Ryan nods, not even looking up at her. He wants to get the letter out, the envelope, read his name once again in the green letters and make sure they actually meant him. "Yeah, sure."
Ryan hears her snort on her way out and he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch. Closing his eyes, he starts to wonder if maybe this really isn't a prank. Maybe someone else, someone from school. But Trey was right, how could they know about the bed--
"What ya doing little brother?"
Ryan looks up, surprise to see Trey sitting down by his side. He glances at the table, only Eddie and Arturo playing cards now. "When did the hand ended?"
"A while ago." Trey shrugs, taking a long drink from his beer. "You've been zoned out for a while now, you know? What were ya thinking about?"
He shakes his head, looking down at his folded hands. Nothing magical about them, certainly. Only five fingers in each hand, small fingers that so far haven't found what they are good for. "That letter wasn't for me."
Trey frowns, tilting his head as he looks at Ryan. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"It couldn't be," he says, looking up at his brother. "I mean, Trey, fuck, look at me. Do you think I could be--?"
"What, like a wizard or something?" Trey grins, lifting the beer to his lips. "No fucking doubt." He takes a swallow. "You're not like me, bro. You actually went to classes and paid attention. You're..." he sighs, shaking his head as he does so. "You're the only good one in the family, bro, that's what you are."
They don't say anything for a moment, Ryan not quite believing Trey.
"You haven't told anyone, have you?"
Ryan snorts at Trey's question. "What, that I'm a freak? Yeah, right. Are you insane? I'm not an idiot."
Trey laughs, throwing his head back. "Okay. Okay. Cool it, bro. I was just saying." Placing his arm around Ryan's shoulder, he pulls the younger boy against his chest in a half hug. "Don't you worry little brother. I'm gonna get the money for that."
Frowning, Ryan looks up at Trey. "Trey..."
"You're gonna go to that fancy school, Ryan, do you hear me? You're gonna go. I'll fucking see to that, if I have to."
Ryan wants to say something, to convince Trey that whatever idea he has now, to put it to rest. But Ryan knows his brother, and with the glint in Trey's eyes, Ryan knows to give up now and just go along. He sighs, nodding as he does so. "I know, Trey. I know you will."
"I'm going with you."
Trey sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You're not, Ryan. Do you hear me? You're not fuc--"
"No, Trey, you fucking listen to me." Ryan takes a deep breath, fully knowing what he wants to say. "I know hwy you're doing this, and yes, I appreciate it, but if you're gonna steal a car to pay for my school, then the least I can do is be there with you, don't ya think?"
Trey frowns, looking at Ryan's posture. The boy has his arms folded on his chest, his jaw set, blue eyes staring at him like steel. Well, fuck, if he doesn't look imposing for only an eleven year old.
"Fuck, you stupid stubborn asshole." Trey shakes his head. "Yeah, okay, whatever. You're coming." Trey glares at Ryan as the boy grins. "But if you get in the way, if you do anything stupid I'll swear to God I'll kill you."
Ryan nods, smirking. "Sure you will."
Not even two and a half hours later, Ryan sits down on a small bench by the side of a cot as the prison cell gate closes by a policeman.
Ryan sighs, shaking his head as he does so. He bites down his lower lip, looking up at the ceiling. Patting his left pants pocket, he feels his chest tight, his pulse quickening as the fabric is plain against his hand. The letter, along with the rest of his personal objects, has been taken away and locked somewhere in this hellhole.
He turns around, lying down on the bench, the concrete hard against his back and he closes his eyes, throwing his left arm over them.
Oh, fuck.
The next morning, Ryan is led by a guard out of his small cell and down a hallway. He looks around him, his eyes falling down at himself. He's wearing a blue and gray jumpsuit, handcuffs around his hands, like he's gonna try to escape and isn't this just perfect? Even if he was to get the money for the school, he's pretty sure they won't be receiving eleven year olds with police records. Just fucking great.
Walking into a room, Ryan glances at the table in the middle of it, a man sitting there. There are papers and files spread of the table. His attorney.
The man looks up at Ryan, giving him a small smile as he stands up. Ryan doesn't smile back. The guy has dark hair, bushy eyebrows and he's wearing a suit. Yep, his attorney.
The guard nudges him forward and Ryan's step falters. The man's hand goes to Ryan's arm, catching him before falling right on his face. He waits until Ryan has found his footing once again before letting Ryan go.
"You okay?"
Ryan looks up at the guy before nodding tersely. The guard takes the handcuffs off Ryan and Ryan rubs his wrists idly.
The guy nods at the guard, and he leaves, leaving Ryan and his attorney alone. Ryan eyes the man out of the corner of his eye, not knowing whether to trust this man or not.
"Well, now that's done. Ryan, I'm Sandy Cohen. The court's appointed me your public defender."
Ryan looks at him, his lips pursed into a thin line. He really just wants to get out of here and find if they'll still accept him, after all this crap.
When Ryan doesn't say anything, Sandy shrugs, taking a seat at the table. "You could do worse. You okay? They treating you alright?"
Ryan looks down at his hands as he sits down. Where is his letter? Would the guards have read his letter? Could they have ripped it apart, tossed it into the trash? Could he find it after that?
"Where's my brother?" Ryan asks after a moment.
"Ah..." Ryan glances at the man as he looks down at the files on his hands. "Even though Trey is only 17, he did steal a car. They also found a gun in his pants and about an ounce of pot in his jacket."
Ryan snorts. The gun's Arturo's. Trey told him he had borrowed it, for protection. And Eddie will freak out when the finds out Trey lost his pot. He bites down on his lower lip not to grin at that.
"He also has previous records," Sandy continues. "Some small robbery and he's been detained before for possession and drunk driving." He sighs. "The DA has decided to process him as an adult. I'm sorry, but I'm thinking he'll be facing at 3 to 5 years right now."
That's not fair, he did it because of me, and don't you get it? He did it because of me. He wanted me to go to that school. He wanted me to...Ryan sighs. To leave, to get out of here and not end up like he knew he would and now, he's fucking facing jail time because of me? Not fucking fair.
"But Trey's not my concern."
Ryan fights the urge to look up at the man. Whatever it is he's selling, Ryan's not buying. He has to get out of here, try to contact that Minnie chick and see if he can actually get there.
And now that's he's thinking about it, how the fuck is he gonna get to England?
He closes his eyes. Fuck. No, no, this is more fucked up than he thought at first. There's no way... even if he could get the money for the school supplies, even if they would take him after this fucking stunt, how would he get as far as England? He'd need a visa, right? And a passport, and how does one get one? He'd need his mom's signature, and Trey's the only one who can do a good job forging it. Ryan hasn't gotten the hang on the 'wood' at the end of her name.
"You're eleven, Ryan. Eleven. What were you doing...?" Sandy sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. "What were you doing with him? Did you think it'd be cool to go with him, just for the kicks? What were you thinking? You're eleven, for God's sake."
Ryan presses his lips tightly close, wanting to do nothing but yell at the stupid asshole who thinks he's got the right to tell him what to do.
"Look," Sandy says after a moment, when Ryan doesn't answer him. "I can plea this down to a misdemeanor."
Surprised, Ryan looks up at him.
Sandy grins. At least that's a small win. "Petty fine, probation. You'll be able to leave right now, but you have to know this, stealing a car cause your big brother told you to its stupid, and its weak. Now those are two things you can't afford to be anymore."
He didn't tell me to and that's what you don't understand. He didn't tell me to. He did it for me. He presses his teeth together, his jaw starting to hurt. Trey's gonna be locked up for three fucking years because of me, so don't you fucking tell me--
Ryan looks up when Sandy yelps and his eyes fall down onto the corner of the room. The trashcan is on fire.
Sandy glances at Ryan, who's just sitting there, his eyes wide but a calmness around him that makes Sandy blink and wonder.
After a moment the guard walks in carrying a fire extinguisher and he takes care of the trash can, picking it up after all that's left is gas and foam.
"Everything ok around here?" The man asks, eyeing Ryan with suspicion. Ryan glares at him. "Did he--?"
"He didn't do anything," Sandy says, his voice calm even though he can feel his heart drumming in his chest. Could it be possible? "I guess someone threw a butt in there. Not too careful."
The guard nods and gives Ryan a glance before closing the door after him.
Sandy stares at the closed door, his thoughts running a mile per hour. Even the timing is right. Seth just got his letter yesterday. Well, if Ryan actually is, then there's only one way to find out.
Sandy lowers his right arm under the table, slowly pulling his wand out of under his sleeve, and casts a silencing charm around them.
Ryan frowns at the man as he feels something like wind going around him but it's gone before Ryan realizes what exactly that was.
"Are you ok?" Sandy asks, placing his wand back into hiding. He folds his arm over the table, head tilted. "That fire--"
"A butt, probably," Ryan says, trying to keep his tone calm and light. "Like you said."
"Yes, probably." But not likely, now Ryan. You know it. Sandy takes a deep breath. "Tell me about your parents."
Ryan snorts. "Why do you need to know?"
Sandy shrugs. "No reason. We're very much the same, you know Ryan. Cut from the same deck. I grew up no money, bad part of the Bronx, my father was gone, my mother worked all the time. I was pissed off, I was stupid."
"And look at you now," Ryan says, giving Sandy a quick half grin.
Sandy lets out a soft sigh. There's no easy way to break this, to ask the kind of question he wants to ask. "I wonder, has anything ever happened that you couldn't quite explain?"
Ryan raises an eyebrow, head cocked to the side. What is he--?
"Something you wanted and it appeared in front of you, or disappeared? Something that shouldn't have happened?"
Like that fire, Sandy wants to ask. Are you so pissed off at me right now that you started that fire, that it just went out of control, from you? Has it happened before?
Ryan bites the inside of his cheek. The guy's kidding, right? Why would he ask a question like this, unless-- He inhales sharply as Sandy smiles, nodding as he glances right into Ryan's eyes. Unless the man knows something Ryan doesn't.
"You didn't happen to get a weird looking letter in the mail lately, have you?"
Ryan bites on his lower lip harder, unblinking eyes staring at Sandy.
"Weird, like old paper." Sandy smiles slightly, the corners of his lips curling upwards as he sees the surprised and the fear in the boy's eyes. "With green big letters. A rare name to pronounce, too. Two letters inside?"
Ryan closes his eyes, lowering his head slightly. This isn't--
"You did."
It's not a question, but Ryan nods nonetheless. He's at the end of his rope now. His only way to actually go to that school is behind bars and he won't get to see his brother for at least five years. He's so fucked. "I think they were wrong."
Sandy frowns and waits for a moment until Ryan raises his head, looking at him with fear and sadness in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"That letter, it said..."
"That you're a wizard."
Ryan looks around him with an edge to his eyes. "Someone could be watching, listening--"
Sandy shakes his head. "No, they aren't. I cast a silencing charm."
Ryan blinks, more than just confused. "What's--?"
"It means that none can listen to what we're saying in here." Sandy smiles at Ryan. "We're safe. Whatever we say here, stays here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Ryan nods, trying to process what this means. He comes up short. "So, you're one too, right?"
Sandy chuckles and he nods. "Yes, that's one way of putting it. I'm one as well. I'm a wizard, just like you'll be."
"I don't think I'll be one."
"Why?"
Ryan shrugs. Take your pick, actually. "Money. My mom..."
"Your parents, they don't know anything about magic, do they?" Sandy doesn't need to wait for Ryan to nod to know that they are muggles. It's understandable, and now Trey steeling the car makes much more sense than only ten minutes ago. "That doesn't mean you can't go. I mean--"
"She doesn't want me to go." Only Trey did, and now Trey... Ryan shakes his head. "I'm not going, so, I'm not one of them."
Sandy presses his lips closed. "I'm sure we can find a way."
Ryan shakes his head again. "It's pointless. Just let it go. I just want to get out of here, okay?"
After a moment, Sandy sighs, nodding as he does so. He can do that. He can get the boy out of here, and after that, they'll try and work things out.
Sandy places his hand on Ryan's shoulder as they walk outside the precinct in the early afternoon.
"You still have to go to your hearing. I'll call you to remind you of the date."
"I'll remember."
Sandy swallows thickly. There's gotta be a way. He's sure he can find a way to--
Before he can think further, an old car squeals around the corner. A moment later, it comes to a stop in front of them.
A woman with blonde hair and blue eyes walks out of the car and Sandy can see the family resemblance between her and Ryan.
"Unbelievable!" She slams the door as she starts yelling and Ryan lowers his head. "What kinda family I got, huh? What the hell did I do to deserve this family? You want to tell me that?"
Sandy glances at Ryan out of the corner of his eye. Well, no wonder Trey ended up robbing cars. "Mrs. Atwood? I'm Sandy Cohen. I'm Ryan's attorney."
"You should have left him there. Just like his Dad's doing. Just like his brother's gonna."
Ryan's eyes dart to Sandy before falling once again to his mom.
"Let's go Ryan." Her tone doesn't lower, if only it seems to raise. "Now, Ryan!" She says, turning around and getting into the car.
He can't believe he's letting Ryan go with that woman. Muggle, of course. She probably doesn't understand that Ryan has a gift.
With a sigh, Sandy gets out a small card from his chest pocket. "I'm going to give you my card. My home number, you know, if you need something, if things get to be too much, call me."
Ryan takes the card and nods. "Thanks."
"Let's go!"
"I'm going, mom," Ryan whispers, making his way to the car.
Sandy just stands there, arms folded on his chest as he watches them go.
"I can't do this anymore." Dawn says as she pushes the door open and walks into the house. Ryan follows her inside, though she doesn't turn around to look at him. "I just can't."
"I'm sorry." Ryan pauses by the side of the wall leading to the kitchen. He leans against it, looking down at the floor. His hand goes to his left pants pocket, the small bump there once again and he feels a different kind of relief.
"First your father, then your brother." She shakes her head, opening the top cupboard and getting out a bottle of vodka. "This is just too much."
"Mom."
Taking a long swing from the bottle, she turns around to look at him. "I want you out of my house."
Ryan blinks, confused, head tilted to the side. "What? Mom, where am I--?"
"I don't care." She snorts. "Go to that fancy school of you, if they'll take you. I don't care. Just get out."
"But mom, I can't-- That school--"
"Just go." Dawn takes a deep breath, her hand tightening around the neck of the bottle. She turns around, picking up her car keys from where she left them in the corner of the island and makes her way toward the door and past Ryan.
Pausing by the door, she turns her head slightly to the side, her gaze finding a blank spot on the corner between the wall and the floor. She doesn't look at Ryan. "By the time I get back, I want you out."
Ryan hears the door closed as he leans back heavily against the wall. He shakes his head, his hand going inside his pocket. He clenches the letter in a tight fist.
Sandy sits down on his desk, his pen tapping against one of the files and he can't help but think about Ryan. He sighs, shaking his head. Eleven years old, just got his letter from Hogwarts and the same night he ends up in jail. That's not the way it should have been.
Sandy smiles as he remembers last week, going out with Kirsten and Seth to celebrate Seth's acceptance letter. Not that they'd worried whether Seth'd get in or not. No, they haven't. Well, not much. Until Seth was ten, he had displayed no magical abilities, not until Sandy had seen the TV turning on as Seth made his way down stairs and toward the den.
But then again, Ryan is muggle born. His mother had no way of knowing her son would receive a letter from Hogwarts in the year of his eleventh birthday, not like Sandy's own mother had known.
And hadn't Sophie's reaction to that letter had been rather similar to Mrs. Atwood's herself?
Yes, Sandy remembers hearing his mother's surprise and shock, which had turned months later into acceptance, but not before Sandy had worried if he'd get thrown out of the house.
Even now, he thinks that maybe a representative of Hogwarts should deliver the letter, along with a very long explanation on how a muggle born becomes a wizard and why, instead of just sending some written words and expecting the best.
Taking a deep breath, he wonders if maybe he should try and call Mrs. Atwood, explain that wizards aren't synonym of freaks, no matter how similar both seem. After a moment of wondering, he shakes his head. Someone as clever as Ryan will find a way to explain it to her, to convince her.
And just in case, he'll make sure Ryan is at the platform on September 1st.
With that thought in mind, Sandy reaches for the phone and dials her wife's number. It takes her a moment to pick up and he smiles when he hears her voice.
"Hey there, beautiful."
Sandy hears her laugh on the other end of the line. "Sandy," she says, her voice low."
He grins. "How are you? How's work?"
"Busy, actually. Dad's going crazy trying to get this deal. He was actually planning on putting a delaying charm on the competing companies, so they would deliver their proposals a day late."
Sandy chuckles. If there's someone who would do that to any other companies to get the deal himself, that'd be Caleb. "That's low. Even for him, honey and that's saying a lot."
"I know."
"I take it you stopped him."
"I told him that if he did that, then he'd have to supervise the construction himself. And you know how much he hates dealing with muggles."
"Almost as much as he hates dealing with me."
"Sandy."
Sandy shakes his head. Fourteen years married and the man can't look at him without seeing past muggle born. But that's okay, Sandy's gotten used to the cold shoulder and terse answers.
"Nah, don't worry about it. Actually, I was calling because I wanted to tell you about someone I met today."
"At court?"
"Not exactly."
Sandy gives Kirsten the short version of his morning and how he found out the boy was actually a young wizard.
"Even with his letter in hand, he thought he wasn't wizard material. He thought the school had made a mistake."
"Dumbledore would never a make a mistake like that."
Sandy hears the softness in his wife's voice and he nods. "Yes, I know. I told him so. I told him that if he had received his letter, then that meant he was magical."
"And?"
"He didn't quite believe me."
"Well, it must be difficult for a muggle born."
"It is."
The way Kirsten pauses in the conversation, Sandy can almost imagine her tilting her head and frowning.
"Sandy..."
And when she says that, he knows he was right. "He's so... I don't know how to say it, but there's something about him."
"Maybe because he reminds you of you at his age?"
Sandy nods, knowing she's right. "Yes, maybe."
"You'd do anything to help a boy in trouble, wouldn't you? That's why I fell in love with you."
"It wasn't my incredible charm?"
Kirsten chuckles on the other end of the phone line. "No, It was because I could copy your potions homework."
This time, Sandy chuckles. "Yeah, right. You always kicked my ass in potions."
Sandy can almost hear her smile through the line. "Just don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll be fine."
"I hope so."
"I gotta go now. I love you."
"Love you too."
With a sigh, Sandy hangs up the phone. One of the downs of working for muggles is that he can't actually use the fireplace to talk with his wife. Then again, his small two by two office doesn't even have a fireplace.
Focusing on work once again, Sandy picks up one of the files and goes through it, forgetting about Ryan for a moment.
Ryan shifts his backpack on his shoulder as he walks down the street. He sighs, not looking back as he keeps on walking. Checking his watch, Ryan realizes he's been walking for almost an hour. No wonder he was starting to get tired.
With a sigh, he reaches the end of the block and sits on a low wall, looking down at his hands.
He did just like his mom asked him too. He picked up his things and left the house.
Ryan had thought about calling Theresa and asking her if he could crash there, or Eddie, but thought better of it. He still had to find a way to get to that school, and he sure as hell wasn't going to try that while staying with one them.
About ten blocks ago, Ryan realized that the only way understand how that school worked, and have a place to stay, if only for the next week until he figured out how to send an owl to someone, would be to call his lawyer.
The only way, Ryan tells himself as he stands up and crosses the street to the payphone.
He slides in a quarter of the three and a half bucks he has in his pocket. The phone rings twice before someone on the other ends answers. "Sandy Cohen."
Ryan bites down his lower lip. "Mr. Cohen?"