The Boundary of Magic

Chapter 17: William Fawley's Bloating Son

         The bright orange of the morning sun painted the sky as Perce awoke to the sounds of an anxious elf.

         "Master must wake up, Master must wake up!" Toby tugged at the pillow. Perce simply grunted, shifting under the blanket.

         "Master's father wants Master to wake up, Master must wake up! Toby doesn't want to wake Master, but Toby must do so, Toby has been ordered to do so! Master must wake up!"

         Perce grunted again, muttering a muffled "Fine".

         Doing so, he promptly went back to sleep and Toby repeated his cries. Perce was still in the sleepy haze, confusing his real world for a dream, not being in a position to analyse. Slowly, his thoughts collected themselves and the happenings of the previous evening struck him. They were to attend a — book fest? No, it was definitely a party — at the residence of Toby the hippogriff... Having arrived here, he slipped into his dreams again. The little house elf restarted his attempts to wake him.

         Mr Jordan entered the room, neatly dressed in wizarding robes that enhanced his handsome features. He shook his head hopelessly at the elf's tireless efforts. He simply flourished his wand once in the air, and a gush of water erupted from it, to destroy the peace of the sleeping twelve-year-old. Toby stared in horror as Perce was drenched and the boy shot up like a spring released, looking around in fury. With another small wave of his father's wand, Perce was completely dry and his clothes produced a warmth like they were held in bright sunlight for an hour.

         "Wake up, now." Mr Jordan was walking out as though nothing had occurred.

         Perce stared indignantly. The poor elf slowly trotted out and Perce was left to give outraged grunts to the walls.

         Mr Jordan had resumed scrutinising The Daily Prophet when his son descended the stairs with a pouty face. He wore smooth robes, of his much favoured emerald green colour, and had his auburn hair styled, most certainly with magic.

         "Your breakfast awaits you," Mr Jordan said, without taking his eyes off the Prophet.

         Perce gave another grunt and sat down without any comments. His father knew well that the morning's incident wasn't one to be easily forgotten.

         "Why did you have to send Toby when you wanted to use your — cruel methods? This is the fourth time you did that. I'm going to do that to you someday." Perce had a serious, annoyed face, which he was stuffing with sausages.

         "You might not have noticed, but poor Toby was repeating himself for half an hour," Mr Jordan said offhandedly, flipping a page. "Mysterious death in Czechoslovakia of a worker of the British Ministry of Magic... Yes, the court spoke about that. Dumbledore was rather quiet about this. He didn't seem too happy." he added, glancing at Perce, whose attention had shot up at the mention of the Deputy Headmaster's name. However, the next moment, the paper was being folded and Mr Jordan announced that they would be departing in five minutes.

         Perce then had, being fully awake, grasped the fact that they were heading to the residence of a certain William, whose last name was unknown to him, but who he knew was definitely not a hippogriff. Being a part of multiple gatherings at his own house, he possessed a general idea regarding the protocol.

         He sometimes found them wary and mechanical, yet there were always some of them full of life and energy. He was, at that point, hoping desperately for one gratefully devoid of monotony. Many a time life rejects one's hopes. But Perce had the opportunity of having his hope fulfilled by a shade more than he would have liked it to be.