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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paxus Asclepius" data-source="post: 1221335" data-attributes="member: 15175">"Well, that's mos' of it, but where am I s'posed to find a basilisk tooth?  What is a basilisk, anyways?"  Morgan muttered to himself over a simmering rice cooker.  A less likely batch of rice could hardly be imagined; the last traces of fresh-ground mandrake disappeared into the mixture under Morgan's persistent stirring.  A yowl and thump behind him made him whirl, almost upsetting the brewing potion.  Sammael was crouched over a small card, spitting at something which had evidently flown above him."Down, Sam!  Calm down.  What's 'at you got there, eh, boy?"A jacknife opened the card in a heartbeat, and Morgan began reading.HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRYHeadmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, SupremeMugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)Dear Mr. Slythe,We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at HogwartsSchool of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of allnecessary books and equipment.Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.Yours sincerely,Minerva McGonagall,Deputy Headmistress"Wha' is this, Tommy's idea of a joke?  'E knows damn well these things work.  'E saw how Sam's eye was, but you're all better, boy, aren't you?"  Morgan stroked the cat's head, running his fingers down the furrow of white where some faster, luckier animal had blinded him in the left eye.  Morgan's proudest moment had been the charm that restored his sight, but success had proven elusive since. "Await my owl, eh? As if I 'ad an owl to send loike some kind of postman.  Bloody wankers.   They won't be laughing much longer."* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *Morgan flipped over the calendar to August with anticipation.  Tomorrow, Mrs. Tremayne's welfare check would come, and the cash he got from it would pay for a proper propane stove.  Wasn't like the old biddy needed it; she'd been dead these past two years, but he'd managed to hide it from the welfare office, and the income had been beyond any eight-year-old's dreams.  Well, eleven-year-old, now.  He was practiced enough in the words "pay to the order of" by now that not even he could tell the difference between her signature and his own copy.  Besides, now that July 31 had come and gone, maybe those damn letters would stop.  It couldn't possibly be real, could it?As Morgan strolled along the street to the abandoned warehouse he used when things might get a bit rank, a voice called from an alley."Morgan Slythe, yes?  I must speak with you.""Oo's there? What do you want?  'Ow do you know my name?""We sent you letters.  Many of them.  I hope you received at least one?""I got them.  School of bloody wizardry, my arse.  I go around talking like that, they'll throw me in a nut'ouse.""It's very real, Mr Slythe.  Very real indeed.  I'm here to offer you a choice.  You see, you have a talent.  We would very much like to encourage that talent.  However, you still think like a Muggle.  If we can't keep an eye on you, you're going to make an awful lot of trouble for us."  As he spoke, the man glided out of the alley.  Morgan noticed he was dressed in odd, dark robes."What're you calling me?""A Muggle.  One without magic.  You know nothing about wizardry but what you've somehow patched together from old books.  You could inflict a great deal of damage if left unchecked.  I'm offering you more knowledge than you could ever learn for yourself, if you lived a thousand years.  If you don't accept, though, we'll have to get rid of such a loose cannon.""Get rid of me?  You can't kill me!  I'm just a kid!  Give me a . .""Not kill, Mr. Slythe,  Obliviate.  I'll simply remove the memories that would be troublesome.""Cor, you can do that?  Will they teach me that, at this school of yours?""That's only the beginning, Mr. Slythe.  I take it you accept the offer?""Damn roight I do.  Now, where do I get these books?"</blockquote>

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