Seething with frustration, Gideon continued on to the west tower and the Owlery. After sending his letter, he sat down in a corner with his head resting on his knees. It was cool, dark, and peacefully quiet except for the occasional hooting coming from the many alcoves in the walls above.

Once the cold became too much for Gideon and he grew tired of his thoughts, he made his way back to the Slytherin Common Room, where his recent notoriety meant nobody objected to him going to bed early.

***

Gideon was pleased to find he had soundly slept through the night. However, his morning went downhill from there. The other students all showed signs of improvement with their Charms and Transfiguration spellwork. So much so, that Gideon's lack of ability was highlighted.

The afternoon was no better. Gideon sat through another Defence Against the Dark Arts class with his father ignoring him. This time, he tried to give chase after the lesson, but he lost sight of Professor Maxwell in the throng of taller students.

When it came time for their daytime Astronomy class, Gideon was not in the mood for the subject that he had always struggled with. However, Professor Kenyatta turned out to be a rather interesting man. Today, his exuberant African-style robes resembled zebra stripes.

He seemed passionate about his subject and spoke about it with wonder and reverence. His cheerful nature was infectious, and by the end of the lesson, Gideon was looking forward to their practical lesson that evening. Before that, though, was the day's extracurricular subject, Flying.

Gideon didn't plan to take part, but Brendan asked him to go along and Jaden and Harjeet both prodded him about it. Gideon appreciated the boys making the effort to include him, so he agreed to attend. He might not be able to ride a broom, but it might still be fun to watch the other boys try—and fail.

Out on the green, they met Mr Wood, a burly middle-aged man bouncing on his heels with one hand on his hips, and the other balancing a racing broom over his shoulder.

'I think that's a Thunderclap he's holding!' Jaden whispered excitedly.

'Welcome first-years!' he said brightly. 'I'm Mr Wood. I'll be overseeing your Flying lessons. I also lead the sport and fitness clubs on the weekends, which I hope many of you will be joining!'

Judging by the size of the crowd, Gideon guessed that most, if not all, of the first-years had shown up.

'I hear he used to play professionally!' Gideon overheard a Gryffindor say.

'There aren't enough brooms for everyone,' said Mr Wood, 'so, we'll take turns. Let's have Gryffindors and Slytherins first, shall we? Everyone else stand to the side, please.'

Gideon and the boys stepped up to the brooms laid out on the grass.

'How many of you have ridden a broom before?' he asked.

About a quarter of the students raised their hands, including Vinny and Jaden.

'Interesting. Right, then, all of you, step up to the left side of your broomstick, stick your right hand over the broom and say, "UP!"'

'UP!' they all echoed.

Many of the brooms moved. Gideon's did not. Of the others, some merely flailed on the grass while others jumped considerably off the ground. Vinny's flew right into his hand. He smugly held it over his shoulder as Mr Wood had while the other Slytherins congratulated him.

'Excellent! Some great movement there!' Mr Wood told them. 'Keep it up until you can make your broom rise on your command. Say it with conviction!'

A few minutes later, Mr Wood said, 'Okay, take a hold of your brooms.'

Gideon and a few others had to pick theirs up. It felt strange in his hand. The school brooms were old and were rumoured to vibrate if they went too high, but this one was starting to do so without cause. Gideon looked around and saw that nobody else was having a problem. As Mr Wood gave the group their next instructions, it began to shake harder.

'What are you doing?' Vinny sniped as the broom began to make jerking movements.

'Nothing!' Gideon replied in annoyance as he realised, he was drawing attention. The broom was shaking so violently now that Gideon was having trouble holding on to it. He grabbed it with both hands, but the end suddenly swung away and smacked Vinny in the arm.

'Argh! Watch it, freak!' Vinny yelled.

Caught off guard, Gideon loosened his grip, and the broom escaped his clutches, slamming down on the grass with a thud. He reached for it and the broom slid away. He pursued it and it shot even further from him. Laughter had broken out all around.

Gideon blushed scarlet with embarrassment. More than that, though, he was confused. The broom shouldn't be responding to a Squib at all, let alone behaving like this. He couldn't help but wonder whether he was he so devoid of magical ability, that he was now repelling magical items.

'Must be a dodgy broom, I'll have it checked out,' commented Mr Wood. 'Here, give mine a go!'

'No way!' said Jaden enviously.

The teacher proudly presented his Thunderclap, the name discernible by the gold engraving on its handle. Gideon accepted it carefully and admired it. There were players in the Quidditch League teams who rode Thunderclaps.

It certainly felt different from the old branch lying a few feet from him. However, after only a few seconds, the racing broom began to vibrate just as the other had. It wasn't jerking around but the vibration was becoming so strong that Gideon felt his whole body begin to resonate.

'Hmm. That err, shouldn't be happening,' said Mr Wood nervously as the vibrations increased. 'You err, best give it here, I think.'

Gideon happily obliged. Unfortunately, when he released it, the broom soared across the green like a rocket and crashed straight into the castle wall. The engraved handle bloomed on impact and the now useless stick fell to the ground.

'Accio broom!' Mr Wood whispered with his wand pointed in its direction. It returned to the group considerably slower and landed at his feet. The flying teacher dropped to his knees as he stared down at the splintered remains of his prized racing broom.

The student's faces were a mixture of amusement, concern, and shock.

'Oh... My... Gosh!' Harjeet commented.

'Gideon, what did you do?' said Brendan

'Are you even a wizard?' Vinny accused, still nursing his arm.

'Class dismissed,' Mr Wood squeaked.

***

Word of what happened had spread all over the school by the following day. According to a group of fourth-year Ravenclaws, Gideon overheard at lunch, 'that eye patch kid with the ten-minute sorting turned the Flying teacher's Thunderclap to kindling!'

The incident didn't help with his friendships either. Jaden and Harjeet joked about it, constantly, but Brendan and the girls had pretty much stopped talking to Gideon, and Vinny was acting more openly hostile towards him. Plus, the first-years all blamed him for missing out on their first chance to fly.

If that wasn't enough, as Gideon trailed his classmates on the way to the Common Room that afternoon, they happened to cross paths with a group of Gryffindor boys. He realised all too late that the group included Alex Grimsby and his friend Greg! However, among the group was another face he wasn't happy to see. In fact, it belonged to someone he never expected to see again.

'Jason?' Gideon mouthed automatically as his eyes widened in disbelief.

'Gideon! See, it is him! He's pretending to be a first-year, but I told you guys it was him!' cried Jason Crawley with apparent glee.

Gideon's heart leapt into his throat. How could this be? He had been raised in a wizarding family, only to end up spending the last two years at Middling Academy. Meanwhile, his bullying, Muggle arch-nemesis had been at Hogwarts. Where was the justice in that?

'So, how'd you get in here, midget? Did your parents have to bribe someone? Judging by the rumours going around, it doesn't seem like you'll be here long!' taunted Jason, to the delight of the Gryffindors.

'Nice eye patch!' said another of them with a chuckle. 'Where did you get it, Neverland?'

Alex Grimsby didn't seem to be laughing with them, but as stunned as Gideon was, he didn't really take it in.

'I couldn't believe it when Jase told us he knew you!' said Greg with a malicious grin. 'What happened to the Squib school, loser?'

The Slytherin first-years travelling with Gideon were puzzled.

'Squib school?' said Vinny with a mix of disgust and delight.

'What does he mean, "pretending to be a first-year"?' asked Emma, her incessant curiosity rearing its ugly head.

'Oh, you haven't told your little friends. Well, that's not very nice! Someone ought to teach you a lesson!' said Jason, drawing his wand.

Gideon stepped back as Greg followed suit. He thought back to the boy's comments about "losers" in Madam Malkin's robe shop. Were they going to hex him?

'Aren't you all in my next class?' called out a voice from behind the Slytherins. It was Professor Longbottom. 'Chop-chop! Greenhouse One's this way!'

***

Following the run-in with the third-year Gryffindor's, Gideon was forced to admit to his housemates that he was really thirteen and had previously attended Middling Academy. With this news, his patch, his sorting, his nightmare and the broomstick blunder, Gideon was indeed earning something of a reputation, as Jason had hinted at.

In response, the first-years either watched him more closely or kept their distance. Their distrust of Gideon was exacerbated by the fact that, despite his ability to score house points with his subject knowledge, he had yet to show a shred of actual magic.

Professor Longbottom's class on planting Snapping Saplings hadn't required any magic, and luckily, they were working in pairs in Potions, so Brendan's power was enough to make a passable antidote. However, Gideon showed no sign of improvement in Charms, or in Transfiguration, the last class of the week. After once again forcing himself to sample a swig of vinegar for show, Professor Voronov asked him to stay behind after the lesson.

The Transfiguration professor simply observed the boy for a while before asking him, 'So, Mr Maxwell. How have you found your first week?'

'Erm, it's been okay,' Gideon fibbed.

The teacher told him, 'I've had word from your other Professors that your participation in classes has been positive. I was delighted to learn that Professor Binns actually knows you by name. Quite the achievement, believe me! In addition, I'm personally very happy with your contribution to our house point total.

'However, I've also had concerns expressed to me about your magical aptitude. I, too, have been surprised at your lack of progress. Is there anything you would like to tell me?'

Gideon figured he had gotten enough out of Hogwarts and was resigned to the idea that this might be the end of the road.

'Actually Professor,' Gideon said, 'I think it's as good a time as any for me to withdraw.'

Professor Voronov raised an eyebrow. 'I beg your pardon?' he said.

'I'm grateful for the opportunity,' Gideon paused for a moment, 'but I just don't belong at Hogwarts. The concerns you and the other teachers have, they aren't going to go away. I don't know if there was a mistake of some kind with my acceptance offer, but the truth is, I'm a Squib.'

Again, the man observed Gideon quietly for a few moments before continuing, 'You're sure about this, Mr Maxwell?'

'Yes,' said the boy, thinking of everything he had been through this week, running into his childhood bully to top it off. 'I should leave.'

'That is unfortunate,' Professor Voronov stated. 'Come, we should consult the Headmistress.'

After a short and silent journey through the castle, Gideon and Professor Voronov arrived at an impressive stone gargoyle. Upon reaching it, the professor uttered, 'Dragon Pox.'

The gargoyle sprung to life and stepped aside to reveal a set of stone steps rising from the floor. The professor stepped on and Gideon followed. They twisted around a column in a spiral motion, continuing upward until the top step met a small landing with a single door.

Professor Voronov knocked loudly, and a voice from inside told them to enter. The head's office was large, round, and full of light from a window with an impressive view. There was a pleasant aroma in the air, presumably due to the many plants that filled the room, including what looked like a wall-mounted herb garden.

The Headmistress stood with her hands folded behind her back in a set of charcoal grey robes. She was facing a wall lined with bookshelves, and portraits hanging above. She turned her head and greeted them, 'Professor Voronov, what an unexpected delight. Ah, and Mr Maxwell, how nice to see you.'

'Good afternoon, Professor Dandridge. Could we have a moment of your time?' asked Professor Voronov cordially.

'Of course! Please, come in and sit down,' she responded.

They followed her to the far-end of the room where she sat behind a claw-footed desk in a throne-like chair, and they sat in the two seats opposite.

'What can I do for you both?' she asked.

Professor Voronov told her, 'After a discussion with Mr Maxwell, he has expressed a desire to withdraw from the school.'

'I see,' she said with her elbows resting on the desk and her fingers intertwined. 'Professor Voronov, I wonder if I might speak to Mr Maxwell privately.'

'Of course, Headmistress,' the man replied and swiftly departed.

The headmistress put on the gold-framed glasses dangling from the chain around her neck, and studied Gideon, peering over her clasped hands, 'So, Gideon, you want to leave Hogwarts?'

That wasn't quite true, but Gideon had come to the conclusion that the school just wasn't a good fit, so he replied with a nod.

The woman continued to study him closely, 'Might I ask, why?'

Gideon noticed the Sorting Hat sitting atop a shelf behind her chair. Seeing it reinforced his choice, 'This isn't the right place for me.'

'I've had some good feedback about you from your teachers, which is unusual after just one week.'

'But not about my magical abilities,’ Gideon corrected. 'The only reason I'm doing well is because I already know the material. It's like I'm cheating. I don't belong here.'

'Of course, you do,' she retorted.

Her assurance surprised Gideon. 'But why?' he asked.

'I think it would be better if I showed you. Come with me.'

Gideon couldn't help but notice the people in the many portraits studying him as he and the Headmistress left the office. They travelled to what seemed like the other side of the castle, down corridors, up staircases and through numerous secret passageways. They eventually arrived in a deserted corridor with a brilliant golden suit of armour.

The Headmistress drew her wand, and the hollow soldier drew its sword in a threatening manner. Professor Dandridge didn't flinch. Instead, she crossed her wand with the sword and after a few seconds, the suit of armour sheathed its weapon and stood aside. The stone wall behind it folded away and the two entered a small round room.

'Ascendio,' commanded Professor Dandridge, and the floor began to rise. It was reminiscent of the British Library’s street entrance, which Gideon quickly put out of his mind. They continued to rise until levelling with the single door in the cylindrical space above.

Professor Dandridge opened the door to a small dusty room, the ceiling full of cobwebs. It was empty but for a rickety stool and an old table, on which was a tattered book and a large, grey quill in an empty ink pot.

'As far as I know, no student has ever stepped inside this room,' she informed the boy.

Gideon felt honoured but confused as to why he was here if that were the case.

'Like the Sorting Hat, these items were created by the school founders,' she explained, 'They are known as the Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance. Together, they constitute the only process by which, students are selected for Hogwarts.'

'At the precise moment that a child first exhibits signs of magic, the quill floats up out of its ink pot, and attempts to inscribe the name of that child upon the pages of the book. The book, however, will often snap shut, refusing to be written upon until it detects sufficiently dramatic evidence of magical ability.'

The headmistress's explanation was fascinating, but Gideon still didn't understand what it had to do with him.

'Come closer,' she said, gesturing for him to approach the table. 'Gideon Drake!' she announced.

The book flipped open, and its pages began to turn of their own accord. It came to rest on a page labelled at the top as "2009", the year Gideon was born. Gideon scanned the rest of the page. It was a list of neatly scrawled names. However, one stood out immediately owing to it being crossed out, and then rewritten.

'Your name was added to the book when you were just a baby, Gideon,' Professor Dandridge informed him.

'Why was it crossed out?' Gideon asked.

The woman paused for a moment before replying, 'I can't say. However, it was re-added sometime this year, and that's why you were sent your offer letter.'

Gideon continued to stare at his name in the book, trying to comprehend its meaning.

'As I understand it, Gideon,' the headmistress said, 'no other name has ever been crossed out once accepted by the book, and no other student has ever been accepted twice. Whatever the reason for this may be, one thing seems clear, you belong at Hogwarts.'

***

Gideon promised Professor Dandridge that he would take the weekend to consider his options. His place at Hogwarts hadn't been an arbitrary decision taken by some administrator. He had been selected by way of an ancient magical process, twice at that.

Gideon had a big breakfast on Saturday. With no classes to attend and clubs not starting until the following week, he finally had a chance to fully explore the castle and its grounds. Perhaps his last chance to, if he chose to go ahead with withdrawing.

Halfway through his bubble and squeak, the morning post arrived with a cascade of owls. Gideon looked up expectantly for Caroline's reply. Amongst the flurry of feathers, he spotted the orange eyes of a large eagle owl heading straight for him. However, it wasn't just a letter it carried in its talons. It also delivered a small package wrapped in brown paper.

Gideon thanked the bird and offered it his toast crusts while he slid open the envelope, which was oddly addressed using his recently discovered birth name. The letter inside read:

Dear Mr Drake,

I'm writing to you regarding your recent visit to our Diagon Alley store.

Our customers have come to expect a certain level of service from our establishment, and I'm sorry that your experience with us was not in keeping with our usual standards.

I assure you that my father's actions were highly out of the ordinary. Though a brilliant man, he is getting on in years, and can at times become confused.

If he had been in his right-mind, he would have agreed with me, that your matching provides us a rare opportunity for study. Therefore, please accept this gift as a token of apology, and in the hope that you will apprise us of your progress with it.

Yours sincerely,

Holden Ollivander

Gideon hastily unwrapped the oblong-shaped parcel and found a familiar black card box. He lifted the lid and marvelled at its contents. Lying atop a cushion of purple crushed velvet, was the wand that had chosen him at Ollivanders. The special wand. His wand.