The Three Brothers: The Cure

A Magical Christmas

23rd December 1991

Mark's breath condensed on the windowpane as he stared out at the urban landscape of London that was zooming past him. Now that the Christmas break had begun, he was eager to return home to his Dad.

That was what his mind had been occupied with since yesterday—the question of his Dad's health. They had exchanged quite a few letters over the past four months, but his Dad hadn't been exactly forthcoming about the progress of the treatments. Knowing his Dad, that could imply anything from a miraculous recovery to a sudden deterioration of his condition. And all that did was make Mark think of the worst.

Frankly, it wasn't as if he was mentally unprepared for it. On the contrary, Mark had a propensity to overthink the issue. Even now, staring out a fogged window on the Hogwarts Express, his mind performed these random thought experiments. Imagined if his Dad was dead. Imagined the things that his twelve-year-old self would have to manage. Imagined the funeral and imagined his life afterwards. And when his consciousness would finally catch on to this errant train of thought, dismissing it off unceremoniously.

Trying to avoid this predicament, Mark turned his musings to his friends. Along with him and Neville, most of the other students were headed home for the break. Fred and George, along with Percy and Ron, were staying in the castle for the break as their parents had gone to visit their older brother Charlie in Romania. Harry was also staying over for the break, and from what Mark could figure out, he wasn't that fond of the people with whom he lived. Mark hoped that Harry would appreciate the present he'd gotten him—he had been quite specific when he asked his Dad to send the package via the owl post.

Harry had been another point of contemplation that Mark found himself often pondering about. Ever since he had read about legilimency, Mark had a fair idea that Harry was some kind of Occlumens—someone who had could defend against legilimency. In his curiosity to find out more, he found himself making repeated attempts to subtly penetrate his classmate's defences. But, he couldn't. Once, he'd even made an uncontrolled attempt—accidently, of course. Even that didn't work. Whatever Harry was, he wasn't a regular Occlumens. Just like Mark, he was an anomaly—albeit of a different kind.

As the Express began to pull into the platform, Mark turned away from the window and got up. Neville—stirred awake due to the slowing train—joined him in getting their luggage out of the carriage. Once he was out on the cold platform, Mark scanned around for any sign of his Dad. Finding none, he turned back towards Neville—still a bit sleepy—and bid him goodbye. Slinging the large duffel bag over his shoulder, Mark then briskly walked out of the barrier, spotting Edwin standing near a newspaper stand immediately. The old man gave him a sly smile as Mark neared him.

"Hey kiddo," said Edwin as he lowered the newspaper in his hand. "You've grown."

"Nice to see you too," Mark said with a smirk, moving in to give Edwin a one-armed hug. As they began moving towards the car park, Mark spoke out the question on his mind.

"How is he?"

"Good," replied Edwin. As Mark gave him a sceptical look, he reaffirmed his statement. "No, I really mean it. John's doing good—he's just been a bit tired lately." As Mark put his duffel in the boot, Edwin continued, "Actually, he was planning on coming with me today. But I insisted that he take some rest. Maybe even have a welcoming party for you," he added with a quick wink.

"That's good to hear," said Mark. "The treatments —?"

"All as expected," Edwin replied as he sat in the old Ford Escort with Mark. As they pulled out of the car park—and out of earshot—Edwin began his questions.

"So, how was magic school?"

Mark rolled his eyes as he slumped back in his seat. Trust Edwin to make Hogwarts sound like a—well wherever circus magicians learned their stuff.