"Have a wonderful day!" Henry Anthony smiled, scanning the last tub of ice cream. "Two pounds, thanks, Kevin."
"Cheers, Mr. Anthony." The boy wiped sweat from his forehead. "Dad told me about your owl problem. It's like living in a zoo, isn't it? At least the field mice must be gone."
"Don't remind me. I think they mistook my flat for a Michelin-starred restaurant." Anthony joked, handing over the change. "Enjoy your summer, Kevin."
He watched the boy leave, his smile fading slightly as he picked a grey feather off his sleeve.
Henry Anthony, resident of Holly Street, cashier at Wheely Supermarket, was a simple man. He liked order. He liked quiet.
Three days ago, that quiet was shattered by a legion of owls. It was a disaster. He had to disguise his... special pets as overweight guinea pigs to fool the neighbors and the press. His skeletal cat, clearly offended by the indignity of being wrapped in fake fur, had shredded his favorite sofa in protest.
I should probably buy a bottle of white wine to apologize to the cat, Anthony thought as he walked home.
He was so preoccupied with choosing between Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc that he didn't notice the man standing at his door until he was right in front of him.
The stranger was a fashion disaster. In the heat of midsummer, he wore a thick suit jacket, cufflinks, and... a pencil skirt?
Anthony's eye twitched. "Not interested. This is my private residence, so if you'll excuse me..."
"Mr. Henry Anthony," the man interrupted, his voice tight with nerves. He stared at Anthony as if looking at a ticking bomb. "I am Jaleel Ollie from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We are investigating your violation of the Statute of Secrecy and your failure to respond to official correspondence."
Ollie pulled a wooden stick from his sleeve and pointed it at Anthony's chest. "Furthermore, due to the high concentration of unregistered Dark Magic detected here, the Aurors will arrive in three minutes."
"What letter?" Anthony frowned, genuinely confused. He looked around to see if anyone was watching this madman, but the passersby seemed to look right through them. "Wait. Is there a bureau for... people like me? Were those owls yours? Why expose me? I'm just a cashier."
Ollie didn't answer. He was trembling.
Before Anthony could ask another question, the air cracked. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Several figures in black robes materialized on his doorstep. Before Anthony could react, two of them tackled him to the ground.
"Secure the target!"
"Clear the room!"
CRASH.
The front door was blasted off its hinges. Anthony struggled, turning his head just in time to see his skeletal cat—still wearing half of its ridiculous guinea pig disguise—arch its back and hiss at the intruders.
"Stupefy! Reducto!"
Blue and red lights flashed.
There was no sound of flesh tearing, only the dry, heartbreaking sound of brittle bones shattering. His cat, and the wraith chicken that tried to shield it, were instantly blasted into dust and scattered fragments.
Something inside Anthony snapped.
"What are you doing?!"
He didn't care about the neighbors anymore. He didn't care about the "wooden sticks." He broke free from the grip of the two men—who were surprisingly weak—and reached out toward the debris.
"Come here, buddy."
It wasn't a spell. It was a call.
A cold wind swept through the living room. The shattered bone fragments on the floor rattled, then launched themselves into the air like reverse rain, flying straight into Anthony's arms.
The Aurors froze.
Anthony ignored the wands pointed at his face. He cradled the pile of bones, his fingers gently tracing the cracks in the cat's skull. The wraith chicken, now just a wisp of faint smoke, curled around his wrist, trembling.
They were terrified. His pets, who usually ruled the house like tyrants, were now fading, barely holding onto existence.
"Don't be afraid," Anthony whispered, pouring his energy into them to stabilize their forms. He looked up, his eyes sweeping over the black-robed figures. "Who are you people? Why attack my pets? Is there a misunderstanding?"
The lead Auror took a step back, his face pale. "Maintain the Anti-Apparition Jinx! Don't listen to the Dark Wizard! He's preparing a ritual!"
"Sir," Anthony said, his voice laced with exhaustion. "If I wanted to fight, I would have done it before you broke my door. I am a law-abiding citizen. I pay my taxes."
"Law-abiding?" The Auror spat on the ground. "Necromancer. The Ministry should have approved the Kill-on-Sight order." He lunged forward, pressing the tip of his wand hard against Anthony's throat. "Don't move a muscle. Search him!"
Items flew out of Anthony's pockets. Wallet, keys, receipts, a packet of gum.
"Where is your wand?" the Auror barked. "State its location."
Anthony sighed. "You won't believe me, but I don't have one. Look, I'll show you."
"Don't move your hands!"
"I'm not. Just look at the flowerbed."
It was twilight. The wood sorrel in the garden hadn't closed yet. As Anthony's gaze fell upon them, they swayed without wind.
Slowly, gently, golden lights began to rise from the soil. They were wraith butterflies—souls of insects long dead, summoned by a mere thought. They didn't shriek or attack; they simply danced in the golden sunset, circling the terrified Aurors twice before dissolving into the evening glow.
It was beautiful. And to the wizards, it was horrifying. Wandless, wordless, precise necromancy.
"See?" Anthony explained earnestly, holding his broken cat. "I don't need a wand. And I'm really not aggressive. Can we just go through the procedure? I'd like to clear this up and go to bed."
...
By eleven o'clock at night, the moon hung high over the North Sea.
Anthony yawned, leaning against the railing of the boat. Thick fog surrounded them, but whenever the Auror's wand glowed, the mist parted, revealing a dark, fortress-like island rising from the black waves.
Azkaban.
If the situation weren't so dire, Anthony would be fascinated. He had always fantasized about finding others like him. He imagined a world of wonder, of magic. But reality was cruel. He had just wanted a quiet life with his cat and his job. Now, he was being shipped off to a prison because he didn't reply to some letters delivered by birds.
He was tired. He just wanted to find a reasonable person, explain the situation, pay a fine if necessary, and go home to fix his sofa.
Unfortunately, reasonable people seemed to be in short supply.
They arrived at the dock. A sleepy wizard in a tattered uniform walked out of the guard station.
"New arrival?" The guard yawned. "What's he in for?"
The Auror escorting Anthony whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Dark Wizard. High-risk. But... mentally unstable."
The guard looked Anthony up and down. "Unstable? Is that why he's hugging a pile of bones like a teddy bear?"
"Put that down!" The Auror snapped, suddenly remembering the contraband. "You can't bring Dark artifacts into Azkaban!"
Anthony shook his head, clutching the skeletal cat tighter. "There are bones everywhere on this island. What difference does one cat make?"
"Let him keep it," the guard waved his hand dismissively. "Who cares? He's going to the High Security Wing anyway. The Dementors will suck the happiness out of him soon enough. He won't have the energy to play with bones."
The Auror leaned in close to the guard. "It's not just a Dark Wizard. He's a Necromancer."
"A what?" The guard froze. "I thought they were extinct."
Then, realization dawned on him.
Azkaban was a graveyard. For centuries, the worst Dark Wizards had died here. Their bones were buried in the walls, under the floors, in the very foundation of the prison.
"I... I need to file a report," the guard stammered, backing away. "Take him to the deepest cell. Now! And tell the Director... tell him someone sent a lit match into a fireworks factory."
"That's a vivid metaphor," Anthony smiled politely at the guard. "Thank you."
"Bloody hell," the guard shuddered as he watched Anthony walk calmly toward the dark fortress. "He acted like I just offered him a cup of tea."
The Auror shook his head grimly. "Don't be fooled. That's a madman among madmen. Let's hope the Dementors are hungry tonight."