When Brian was in primary school, a classmate had once boasted that he had seen a car flying through the sky. Brian had obligingly applauded, privately deciding that his classmate was full of hot air.
Today, Brian realized he had been wrong. He owed that classmate, whose name he could no longer remember, a sincere apology-
At this very moment, on the morning of November 3, 1991, he was sitting in a car high above the ground, looking down at the British countryside.
His car cruised brazenly above the streets of London, ignoring traffic laws, the laws of physics, and the fact that its fuel tank was empty. Office workers in the buildings and pedestrians on the streets, meanwhile, ignored its existence without exception.
This clearly could not be explained by modern humanity's remarkable composure.
The November weather was cold, but the car was unusually warm. Once Brian had overcome his initial unease, he began enjoying himself, gazing leisurely out the window-
In an office in one of the buildings, an angry employee successfully threw his coffee in his boss's face. His colleagues cheered, and not one of them offered the boss a tissue.
"Oh, I hope that wasn't a freshly brewed cup of coffee," Brian said, turning toward the old man in his passenger seat, who was savoring a Sherbet Lemon.
"Indeed. Otherwise, that gentleman will find himself facing a hefty claim for damages."
The old man shook his head. He clearly disapproved of the employee's impulsive act.
"Sometimes we need to restrain our anger, but that isn't an easy thing to do."
Brian nodded approvingly. He had always firmly believed that, sooner or later, people had to pay the appropriate price for their actions.
So when he learned that Mr. Lester had quite outrageously cast a curse on him, and that he had rolled that curse into a ball and used it on Mr. Lester himself, he felt no guilt whatsoever-it was self-defense!
Fortunately, not all wizards were like Lester. The old man in the passenger seat provided a striking contrast.
His full name was very long, so people generally just called him Albus Dumbledore. He was a distinguished man, the headmaster and a professor at a school of magic. His witty, humorous conversation put people at ease, while his magical power was astonishingly formidable.
Half an hour earlier, Brian had watched Dumbledore wave the wooden stick in his hand. The sack containing his drum had flown out of the house on its own, conscientiously closed and locked the door, then slid onto the chest of the rigid Mr. Lester in the back seat and settled down comfortably.
Dumbledore considerately explained:
"This is another application of magic. Don't worry, my boy. Mr. Lester will be all right. We're going to a place called Hogwarts, where there is an excellent medical practitioner. She will see to his recovery.
"But before that, Mr. Lester needs to pay a small price for his improper behavior-he interrupted your drum's funeral, so it seems fitting for your drum to punish him personally."
Brian looked at the back seat in satisfaction, inwardly cheering the existence of magic once again. Then something suddenly occurred to him, and he asked with cautious hope:
"Professor Dumbledore, I have a question-is there any magic that can repair my drum?"
The old man winked at him and said gently:
"Yes. That's one of the reasons I brought your drum along. It can be repaired. In fact, I could do it right now, but I took the liberty of assuming that you would rather repair it yourself-as a wizard.
"Besides, I thought you might feel safer with an old friend beside you on your first visit to an unfamiliar place.
"You'll be staying at Hogwarts for quite some time-the Ministry of Magic informed me that you needed to spend three months-or longer-in Azkaban for remedial instruction in magic, but Hogwarts is clearly the better choice."
Then Dumbledore smiled and waved his wooden stick again. A second later, Brian's car began floating off the ground. That astonishingly heavy lump of metal had turned into a balloon in an instant-but Brian had no time to marvel at it.
What Dumbledore had just said was practically an explicit declaration: Brian, you can become a wizard, and when you do, you can repair your beloved drum.
An immense joy welled up in Brian's heart.
Coming back to his senses, he took a deep breath.
"Professor Dumbledore. I must say this again-I am very, very glad to have met you. Thank you."
"So am I, my boy," Dumbledore said earnestly. "You have given a wonderful ending to what was originally a rather unpleasant trip."
He had gone to the Ministry of Magic because of the unexpected incident in which a troll had entered Hogwarts during the Halloween Feast.
As always, the Minister for Magic, Fudge, had concealed a knife behind his smile, attempting to use the opportunity to plant a spy at Hogwarts.
Just then, an employee happened to burst into the office and hurriedly report to Fudge-
"Minister, an unregistered British wizard has used magic in front of hundreds of people! His name is Chet Brian, twenty-five years old. We don't have enough people. We need reinforcements!"
As far as Dumbledore remembered, no Hogwarts student in recent decades had borne that name.
He had therefore gladly offered to handle the matter himself. After all, his own full name included Brian-if a Hogwarts student had had the surname Brian, he would not have forgotten.
The facts proved that Chet Brian was indeed a wizard whose magical aptitude had gone undetected by the Quill of Acceptance in childhood-a very rare occurrence, but true nonetheless.
When Dumbledore secretly observed Brian catching Lester's curse barehanded and rolling it into a ball, he lowered his wand and once again marveled at the breadth of magic.
And when Brian immediately moved to help Lester, who had been treating him rudely only a second earlier, Dumbledore became certain that Hogwarts had regrettably missed out on an outstanding student.
But that was all right. There was still time to make amends...
Brian, meanwhile, felt a little embarrassed by Dumbledore's response. He did not think he had done anything to help Dumbledore-
On the contrary, this kindly old man had tirelessly answered his many questions about the basics of the wizarding world. His patience reminded Brian of his late maternal grandfather.
Thanks to Dumbledore's explanations, he now knew that magic existed in this world, as did a community of wizards, and that the strange terms Mr. Lester had used really did exist in some form-
For instance, Muggle referred to people like him who did not know magic existed, while Mr. Lester really was an employee of the Ministry of Magic, the wizarding world's governing body, rather than a madman.
Brian also learned that his drum had suddenly shattered because the magic hidden inside his body had become upset and staged a revolt.
Although that had not been what he wanted, his drum had indeed left him as a result. Now, however, he had a chance to restore their friendship.
"I'll repair you as soon as I can, old friend," Brian said affectionately to the drum, which was enjoying its human cushion in the back seat.
As night fell, the flying car drifted leisurely through a tall, dense forest, then skimmed low over a gleaming black lake. Brian's gaze, however, was entirely captured by the vast, magnificent castle.
He could not imagine how dazzling the castle would be if all its lights were lit at night. Perhaps their glow would be enough to outshine the moon.
The strange cries echoing endlessly through the woods gradually faded. The enormous telescope atop the Astronomy Tower glimmered faintly, and Brian knew that the gates of magic were opening to welcome him.
"What a magnificent colossus. Like a... sleeping dragon," Brian remarked, still awestruck.
Dumbledore had been steering the flying car from the passenger seat for hours, yet showed no sign of fatigue. He lazily admired the castle in the moonlight. "Ah... Hogwarts's motto is 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon.'"
Brian was now sticking his head out of the car to look at the Black Lake below. Something seemed to be swaying on the surface.
"So... does Hogwarts have dragons? The kind with tentacles?"
"No-dragons are highly territorial and aggressive, and almost impossible to tame. Students and dragons should not be kept together."
Dumbledore spoke unhurriedly.
"And we have yet to discover any dragons with tentacles, though some dragons are very fond of eating them."
Brian silently unfastened his seat belt and said gravely, "I think this is exactly when we need a dragon that likes eating tentacles-there are lots of thick ones coming toward us."
As his words fell, a series of slaps sounded from every side of the flying car. Brian saw a thick tentacle covered in suckers attach itself squarely to the windshield!
He also spotted a poor fish stuck inside one of the larger suckers-its eyes glinted eerily. Then the flying car began plunging downward!
Down, down-
Then it jerked to a halt in midair.
"Don't worry. The Giant Squid just wants a new toy," Dumbledore said, smiling as he held up his wand.
Only after quite a while did the tentacles wrapped around the flying car reluctantly slip back into the lake, sending up splashes.
Brian was glad that the poor fish could wag its tail in the water again.
When the dripping flying car set off once more, he could not help remarking, "Honestly, I need some squid tentacles to settle my nerves."
The little encounter with the Giant Squid made Brian realize how mysterious the Black Lake was-Dumbledore said that even he was not entirely sure what lay hidden at its bottom.
Hogwarts had existed for so long that many secrets which could not bear the light of day had found their way to the lakebed. They lay beneath thick layers of weeds and mud, waiting for the day they would see daylight again.
Having completed its mission, the flying car obediently allowed Dumbledore to turn it into a tiny model car.
After examining it for a while, Brian tucked the little model into his jacket pocket. It was very light, nowhere near as heavy as the drum he held in his arms.
Then Dumbledore took hold of him with his left hand and Mr. Lester with his right, generously demonstrating how he had suddenly appeared in the passenger seat earlier.
"Apparition!"
Everything before Brian's eyes seemed to twist. After a slight wave of nausea and a brief spell of dizziness, the world became clear again.
He found himself in a room with many beds. The scent of herbs filled the air.
His heart soon settled.
A tall woman dressed as a nurse emerged through a door. She immediately spotted the only injured person present, swiftly approached, gently pushed Dumbledore aside, and settled Mr. Lester onto a bed.
Entirely unoffended, Dumbledore made the introductions:
"This is the Hospital Wing, and this is Madam Pomfrey, an excellent and conscientious medical practitioner, currently the head nurse of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey, this is Brian, an excellent drummer and a prospective employee of Hogwarts."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Brian greeted her politely.
Madam Pomfrey smiled at him. "Likewise, sir. Though you won't want to see me very often."
Brian wholeheartedly agreed. No one wanted to see a doctor every day-unless that doctor was a family member living under the same roof.
This was also the first he had heard of Dumbledore's intention to employ him, so he gave Dumbledore a puzzled look.
He received a confirming look in return, but before he could ask anything else, Dumbledore had headed straight for the cactus by the window. Brian had to leave it at that.
If he remembered correctly, he was supposed to receive magical instruction at Hogwarts while serving his confinement-
But if Dumbledore intended to give him a job and let him take remedial lessons outside working hours, he would not have to sit in a classroom with a group of children aged eleven to seventeen, raising his hand to answer questions alongside them.
That was clearly good news.
By then, Madam Pomfrey had finished her preliminary examination of Mr. Lester. She frowned and asked, "Petrificus Totalus?"
Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "No, not just Petrificus Totalus... there's another kind of power as well..."
Madam Pomfrey considered this for a moment, then raised her head and said gravely:
"I'm afraid the usual treatment for Petrificus Totalus will not work on this gentleman. Headmaster, Mr. Brian, do either of you know exactly what happened?"
Dumbledore was still bonding with the Hospital Wing's cactus, so Brian briefly explained what had happened.
Throughout his explanation, Madam Pomfrey stared at him without blinking. Finally, she said with certainty:
"There's something wrong with you, Mr. Brian. I've never heard of anyone rolling a spell into a ball. It seems I'll have to give you a thorough physical examination first."
"Er..." Brian always felt rather at a loss around doctors, let alone a magical doctor like Madam Pomfrey.
He looked toward Dumbledore, who was concentrating on stroking the cactus.
"Don't be shy, sir. Please take off your clothes first," Madam Pomfrey said calmly.
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