LIFE IS ON

4. After a few months the classes are about to end, when Lincoln teaches the Basilisko spell which puts a doubt that he is in disguise of Edward Black. Peter stepped into the Headmaster’s office and looked around in wonder. The chamber was vast and almost spherical. Paintings and portraits of Hogwarts’ former headmasters lined the curving walls. In the centre stood Flamel’s desk, and behind it, a tall window overlooked the lake. Moonlight and starlight shimmered on the water, and along its edge rose the dark silhouette of the castle. Near the desk, a stone basin hovered in mid-air. A bright cyan light rose from within. Peter approached it cautiously. Shadowy figures were moving beneath the surface, but he couldn’t make out their faces. He leaned closer, then closer still, until his head dipped into the basin and the scene came into focus. He found himself in a square chamber built of ancient black stone. Tiered benches lined the walls, crowded with people looking down at the centre of ...

The holidays were over, and the students had returned to Hogwarts. Peter was sleeping peacefully when a familiar voice rang out beside his bed. “WAKE UP TO REALITY!” Peter jolted awake. Stewart was standing over him, grinning. He’d been waiting to get Peter back for that one. Peter grabbed his pillow and swung. Stewart grabbed his own, and it took a brief but spirited pillow fight before either of them was ready to go downstairs and meet Alison. She was already in the common room when they arrived. “So,” she said, giving Stewart one last chance, “did you ask your uncle if he knows my mum?” “No…” Stewart’s face fell. He’d spent the entire holiday reminding himself to ask that one question, and somehow he’d still forgotten. Alison shrugged. “All right. Let’s keep it a mystery, then.” “Wait, no!” Stewart protested. “Come on. What is it?” Peter looked just as puzzled as Stewart did. Alison leaned over and whispered something in Peter’s ear. His eyebrows shot up. Whatever Alison had known s...

Peter told Stewart and Alison everything about the Bronze Snitch. Neither seemed particularly surprised. They had suspected he had done something of the sort. The following morning, he said goodbye to them at Hogsmeade station. The holidays had begun. At breakfast, only ten or twelve students remained in the Great Hall. Professor Flamel sat alone at the staff table, eating his breakfast. Near the podium, a few men who looked like Muggle workmen held a large sheet of paper between them, discussing something with Professor Lincoln. Lincoln hurried over to Flamel and spoke quietly into his ear. Flamel nodded. After directing the workmen towards the exit, Lincoln left the hall. Flamel rose and approached the podium to address the handful of students. “Children.” Everyone looked up. “Since there are so few of you, I’ll keep this brief. While your friends are away, the school will be undergoing a little maintenance. We’ll be cleaning the dormitories, painting some of the castle walls, and ta...

Fictus Nativitas. The spell lay before Peter’s eyes. To its right, a few words had been scrawled in untidy handwriting: Think of the object, its nature, its function, and it will be born. Peter sat alone in the common room with the notebook beside him. All the portraits were asleep. He had made particularly sure of Xin Li. He didn’t want anyone suspecting what he was about to do. Closing his eyes, he pointed his wand at the notebook. For a few seconds, he pictured the Golden Snitch: darting through the air, climbing higher and higher into the sky, its golden surface shimmering in the sunlight. A beautiful piece of art. “ Fictus Nativitas. ” He opened his eyes. Golden sparks streamed from his wand, gathering above the notebook in a cloud of shimmering particles. They began circling one another like fireflies, slowly drawing together. Peter stared, wide-eyed. He had never seen magic like this before. It was beautiful. The particles swirled into a sphere, merging smoothly until an exact c...

Travis, Oliver, Harper, Redmond, Alison, Stewart, Peter Peter - Seeker Travis, Oliver - Beaters Alison, Harper, Redmond - Chasers Stewart - Keeper Early the next morning, Peter dressed in his school robes before either Stewart or Alison was ready and went down to the common room. The portraits were yawning themselves awake, though Xin Li was already alert. “Where are you off to, little Peter?” Xin asked. “To the staffroom. Professor Lincoln wants my essay, but I’m not sure he’ll be awake yet.” “Well, well, well. You have no idea, little one! Professor Madman rises before the sun and stays awake long after it sets. He spends his days and nights alone in his room, pacing up and down and talking to himself.” “Doesn’t he have any friends?” Peter asked. “None that I know of. His only friend seems to be the portrait of the Weeping Philosopher. Did you see it hanging in his classroom?” “Yes. But it’s strange, keeping himself away from everyone like that. No wonder he’s always in such a bad mo...