The next day turned out overcast. Outside, a fine drizzle was falling. After having breakfast with Hermione, her parents went to work, and she was left at home alone. After yesterday's bustle and glitter of Diagon Alley, she felt especially lonely, and after waving to her parents from the window, she went on looking out at the street for a long time.
At one point, she noticed a dark cloud among the grey ones, shaped rather like Professor McGonagall's hat, and thought, 'How quickly everything has changed. Only a couple of days ago, I could not even have imagined that magic, unicorns and wizards existed in this world… And now I myself will soon become part of that magical world!'
The thought drove away the sadness that had begun to come over her, and Hermione suddenly wanted to take a proper look at everything she had bought the day before in Diagon Alley.
Yesterday they had come home rather late. Since they were in London anyway, her parents had decided to stop by a few other shops on the way. So, once they finally got home, everyone went straight to bed. But now, at last, the moment had come when nothing was stopping Hermione from 'getting down to magic'!
The amulet interested her most of all, so she found it among the rest of her things and carefully took it out of the little pouch the shopkeeper had put it in. Now the amulet seemed like nothing more than a plain blue stone in a setting. In this form, it would probably never have caught her attention.
Hermione began examining it from different angles, trying to make out even the tiniest spark inside it, like the one she had noticed in Diagon Alley. But it was all in vain: the little stone remained completely dead and unremarkable.
'Maybe it really was just a glint of sunlight?' she thought in disappointment. 'And it only seemed to me that it was shining from within.'
Still, she did not want to give up so quickly, so she decided to change tactics. Hermione fetched a torch and began shining it on the amulet from different sides. But no matter how hard she tried, no glimmers appeared. What was more, when she tried to shine the light straight through it, the stone seemed to swallow the light rather than reflect it or let it pass through. All of this seemed quite strange and discouraging to her. Upset, she set the amulet aside and moved on to her other purchases.
The next object of her attention was the wand. Picking it up, Hermione waved it the same way she had in the shop, hoping to feel again that sense of unity with this wonderful object. But this time nothing happened. She tried again, a little more confidently, and then once more, growing increasingly irritated and strangely hurt by its refusal to respond. It was all useless. The wand remained an ordinary stick.
'Maybe all of this is a trick? Maybe all these things only worked when real wizards were nearby?' she wondered.
For a few more seconds she sat there, staring at the wand with her lips pressed tightly together. Still, she forced herself to calm down and think logically.
'No. Everything is fine. I just don't know how to use magic yet. And as for the wand, perhaps this was the mysterious Ollivander magic that no one seemed to understand,' she tried to convince herself.
After turning the wand over in her hands a little longer, Hermione set it aside and, increasingly doubtful about the whole magical business, reached for the books.
First of all, she picked up the book with descriptions of spells and illustrations showing wand movements. By now Hermione no longer felt her earlier excitement, so she decided to act the way she was used to acting at ordinary school: study the explanations carefully, memorise everything and reproduce the required movements exactly. After practising the necessary wand movement several times, Hermione decided it was time to try the spell properly. Focusing on the book lying in front of her, she pointed her wand at it, waved the wand vigorously and said loudly,
"Locomotor!"
Nothing happened. She tried again. Then again, changing the speed of the movement and her pronunciation. But the book did not even twitch. It seemed as if magic was stubbornly ignoring all her efforts.
Refusing to give up, Hermione turned over several pages and tried other spells. The result remained the same. Apparently, real magic required something more than the right words and gestures. And that meant magic would have to wait until school began.
'What if I can't do anything there either?' the anxious thought that had tormented her on the night after Professor McGonagall's visit came back to her.
Completely upset, Hermione put the wand back into its case. Then she looked through several books and chose 'A History of Magic', deciding that at least nothing should get in the way of studying this subject.
And she was not wrong. Hermione became absorbed in 'A History of Magic' for several hours. The book reminded her of an ordinary fairy tale, only a very long one and full of details.
It began with accounts of mysterious manifestations of magic, known from the few sources that had survived to the present day. In the distant past, there had been people with an astonishing ability to perform miracles. They were called shamans, and they became the first researchers of magic, discovering what it could do and how it could be used in everyday life.
The first magical techniques were primitive and were used mainly for the good of the tribe: they helped people obtain food, heal illnesses and protect themselves from harsh weather. But over time, shamans more and more often sought to use magic for their own benefit, and that was what marked the beginning of the first conflicts between wizards and Muggles.
Hermione was discovering the history of the first magical communities and their intrigues in the struggle for power. In an age when the line between good and evil was blurred, wizards did not hesitate to use the darkest spells against their enemies. The pages of the book came alive with stories of ruthless battles, where any means would do if they helped achieve the goal. As she read, Hermione learned about the first magical laws, introduced to limit the uncontrolled use of magical powers that threatened the very existence of humanity. When she finally tore herself away from the book, she noticed that it was already past noon and, stretching, decided to give her tired eyes a rest.
While going through her things again, Hermione came across her school robe. 'Why not try it on?' she thought. Putting on the robe, she went over to the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her: a little witch, just like the ones she had seen the day before in Diagon Alley. Although the robe felt unfamiliar and even a little uncomfortable, Hermione for the first time felt like part of the magical world she had watched with such delight only the day before. Taking out her wand again, Hermione began striking different poses in front of the mirror, imagining herself casting spells. Watching her reflection, she tried to look as confident and convincing as possible in her new role.
After admiring herself in the mirror a little longer, Hermione picked up the amulet again. Holding it against her chest, she tried to imagine how it would look with the robe. Unfortunately, it did not look very impressive. 'I should probably buy a chain for it,' she decided. 'I can't carry it around in my bag all the time. Besides, then the amulet will always be close at hand, and I'll be able to check at any moment whether that mysterious little light that caught my attention in Diagon Alley has appeared inside it again.'
Outside the window, the sky had cleared, and the rain had eased. To Hermione, it seemed like an excellent sign and the right moment to go and buy a chain for the amulet. Without thinking too much about it, she got ready and headed to the nearest shop.
For Hermione, who had only just discovered the magical world, Muggle shops now seemed terribly dull. The goods crowding the shelves, from toys that could not come to life without batteries to books with still, silent pages, no longer held the same interest for her. Even the air in those shops seemed somehow stale to her, and certainly empty of magic.
Passing a display of kitchenware, Hermione could not help smiling as she remembered asking Mr Bridge about cauldrons. The comparison between saucepans and the puffing cauldrons of Diagon Alley, in which miraculous potions were brewed, now seemed funny to her. The whole Muggle world suddenly seemed made up of the same ordinary things repeated over and over: ordinary goods, ordinary people, ordinary Tommy...
"Hey, Hermione!" Tommy shouted happily when he saw her by the shop. "Thought you were still cooped up at home. Didn't look like you wanted to go out."
An irresistible urge to share her discoveries with her friend suddenly came over Hermione. She wanted to tell him about wizards, unicorns and the secrets of Diagon Alley. For a moment, she even imagined his disbelief, and then his amazement at learning that the magical world existed, and that she herself was a real witch. But Professor McGonagall's stern warning echoed in her head: the Muggle world must not know that wizards exist. That rule applied even to her closest friends.
"Oh, I just decided to go for a bit of a walk," Hermione replied, looking away and only just holding back the impulse.
"Anything up?" he asked, noticing something was off.
"Everything's fine," she hurried to reassure him.
"Yeah?" There was doubt in Tommy's voice. "All right, then. Let's go for a walk or something. School's starting again soon, isn't it?"
"Speaking of school," Hermione said suddenly, remembering that Tommy still knew nothing about her decision to go to Hogwarts. "I need to tell you something."
"What's that?" Tommy asked cautiously. "You picked Silverleaf in the end?"
"Not Silverleaf, but not Oakridge School either," Hermione replied quietly.
"Where then?" he asked, surprised. "Ain't too many schools around. You're not going to travel there every day, are you?"
"The school is called Hogwarts," Hermione replied. "It's far away in the north, and I'll be there until the Christmas holidays."
"So, that means..." Tommy looked completely lost and stared at Hermione. "But why? You said we'd stay friends... How's that gonna work if you're... gone till Christmas?"
He spoke in a broken, stumbling way, tripping over his words more and more. His face fell, the hurt plain in his expression.
"Well... you see... This school really suits me, and I..." Hermione began to explain, but Tommy cut her off gloomily.
"I get it!"
He turned sharply and walked away.
"Tommy, wait!" Hermione called after him.
But her friend did not even look back, and soon disappeared round the nearest corner.
Suddenly, Hermione realised that the changes in her life had affected more than just her schooling. From now on, she would have to face difficulties even when talking to those close to her and to her friends. She would have to keep silent about her life at Hogwarts, about what happened in lessons, about the time she spent with her new classmates. For a while longer, she wandered aimlessly through the shops, as if saying goodbye to the familiar world. In the end, she found the perfect chain for her amulet, bought it, and slowly trudged home.
When she returned, Hermione found that there was still no one at home. She went up to her room and sat down on the bed, looking sadly at her purchases from Diagon Alley. No friends to share her new experiences with, not even her parents, who were still at work. She sighed, picked up one of her textbooks and opened it, but almost immediately closed it again. She did not feel like reading at all. After everything that had happened, she desperately needed someone beside her.
Trying to drive away the sadness that had come over her, Hermione took out the amulet, hung it on the new chain and put it around her neck. Going over to the mirror, she looked at her reflection.
And suddenly the amulet flashed. Just like it had back in Diagon Alley.
At that same moment, a strange sensation came over Hermione. The air around her seemed to come alive, and a pleasant chill ran across her skin, like a light breath of wind. Then every cell in her body was filled with a vibrating warmth, like a soft electric tingling. It came from the amulet on her chest and spread farther and farther, reaching the tips of her fingers and her hair.
The sensation passed as suddenly as it had appeared. The amulet went dark. Hermione stood frozen in front of the mirror, stunned, trying to understand what had just happened. She took the amulet off and put it back on several times, but the sensation did not return. The magic had simply vanished, as if it had never been there at all.
***
After several days spent with her magical textbooks, Hermione felt the need for some variety. The textbooks certainly opened up a world of astonishing knowledge, but they left the everyday life of the magical world in the shadows. That was why she had bought so many newspapers and magazines in Diagon Alley: she wanted to learn more about how witches and wizards actually lived. Now, at last, it was time to turn to them.
In the very first newspaper, called 'The Daily Prophet', a large headline on the front page immediately caught Hermione's eye:
The Most Famous Student at Hogwarts!
This year, the corridors of Hogwarts will welcome not merely a new student, but the most talked-about young wizard of our time, Harry Potter!
The Daily Prophet has learned from reliable sources that young Harry, whose name has long since become a legend in the magical world, will this year cross the threshold of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This event will, without doubt, become a historic moment both for the school itself and for all its students and teachers.
Harry Potter, known as the Boy Who Lived, will be sorted into one of the four Houses, and many are already asking: where will the young wizard end up – Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?
Taking advantage of the enormous interest of Britain's magical community in the coming event, the 'Crystal Ball' betting shop has begun taking bets on which House the Boy Who Lived will be sorted into. According to the latest figures, Slytherin is in the lead. Many witches and wizards are convinced that Slytherin will be the best fit for such a famous and undoubtedly talented wizard as Harry Potter.
"We are taking bets on all four Houses, but interest in Slytherin really is unusually high," comments Felix Fortunatus, owner of the 'Crystal Ball'. "Of course, the magical world is full of surprises, and only the Sorting Hat knows the answer for certain, but that does not stop our customers from trying their luck."
As Mr Fortunatus rightly observed, only the Hat knows how Harry's fate at Hogwarts will unfold. With his arrival, school life promises to become far more exciting. We are all eagerly waiting to see what trials and adventures lie ahead of him, and how his presence will affect everyday life at the school. But one thing can be said with absolute certainty: the attention of the entire magical world will be fixed on Hogwarts.
The Daily Prophet will follow developments closely and will, of course, bring you the latest news about Harry Potter's life and adventures at Hogwarts. Stay with us for first-hand news!
Arthur Diggle,
correspondent for The Daily Prophet
'So who is this Harry Potter, then? Some magical prodigy everyone marvels at? Maybe he was born with a wand in his hand, ready for great deeds?' she thought sarcastically, feeling envy begin to stir inside her. After all, she herself would have to prove that she deserved her place in the magical world, while some people, it seemed, got everything without the slightest effort. 'I wonder what it's like to arrive at Hogwarts already famous? Without having to prove you're worth anything?' Hermione could not shake the thought that Harry would not even have to try very hard. 'Maybe he already knows every spell by heart? Then why does he need Hogwarts at all?'
Questions came one after another, forming in her imagination the image of a spoilt boy, forever surrounded by a crowd of admiring fans. Little by little, that image began to remind her more and more of Barbara Grayson. 'Harry Potter is probably just the boy version of Barbara,' Hermione decided, and felt her dislike for him begin to grow. 'Well then, we'll see whether there's anything to him besides a famous name. And we'll see how he gets on at Hogwarts! And I'll prove to everyone that I'm no worse than any celebrity!'
Rereading the article, Hermione only now truly noticed the strange expression: 'the Boy Who Lived'.
'Well, well. So now living long enough to get to school counts as an achievement?' she thought sarcastically, but almost at once she began to reconsider, trying to look at everything more objectively. Her first impression had clearly been coloured by memories of Barbara Grayson. Perhaps there was something more behind those words. Something that explained why this boy was so famous. 'I suppose I should find out more about him before making any judgements,' she decided.
Hermione threw herself into searching for information about Harry Potter, but as she leafed through the newspapers and magazines, she quickly realised that it would not be so easy. Instead of details about Harry, the pages were filled with debates about Ministry of Magic policy, discussions of new laws, and countless disputes troubling wizarding society.
One of those disputes interested Hermione especially. It concerned the use of the Obliviate spell on Muggles who had witnessed magical incidents. Some argued that it was necessary in order to uphold the Statute of Secrecy and protect the magical community. Others considered such a practice a violation of Muggle rights and of ethical standards: after all, people were being deprived of parts of their own memories, sometimes ones that mattered to their personal lives.
Another debate that caught her attention concerned the registration of Animagi. The article described heated arguments between supporters of strict registration, who justified it by the need for safety, and opponents who saw it as a violation of personal freedom. Hermione was struck by how much this dispute resembled Muggle debates about the right to privacy. The more she read about politics in the magical world, the more clearly she understood that, despite all the magic, political games and intrigues here were little different from Muggle ones. The struggle for power, scandals, accusations of corruption: all of it was very familiar to Hermione.
"Politics is politics, whether it's magical or Muggle," she concluded.
As she went on reading, Hermione came across many amusing articles. She spent a long time laughing over 'The Five Most Ridiculous Spells Banned at Hogwarts', imagining what it would be like to spend a whole day speaking in rhyming lines because of one of those spells. She was no less entertained by the article 'How to Convince Your Guard Mole Not to Frighten the Neighbours: Etiquette for Underground Creatures'. It turned out that wizards used guard moles to protect gardens from pests, but the creatures sometimes unintentionally frightened Muggle neighbours by coming up in their gardens.
Quidditch proved to be another discovery. Reading about it, Hermione could not understand how a game in which players on broomsticks chased flying balls could stir up so much passion. From her point of view, Quidditch, like any other sport, was a completely useless activity, only distracting people from real problems and from studying. She was genuinely baffled that grown, sensible people could spend so much time and effort on such entertainment.
After skimming the headlines in the magical fashion magazine 'Wizarding Chic', such as 'Tooth-Colour Changing Spells: A New Trend Among Young People' and 'Fashion Trends in the World of Robes: From Puffy Sleeves to Glowing Hems!', she put it aside for later, for when there was absolutely nothing else to do.
At last, in one of the magazines, she came across an article about the most recent magical war. It marked the tenth anniversary of its end. As she read it, Hermione realised with surprise that wars happened in the wizarding world too, and that everything around her was not nearly as peaceful and well-ordered as it might have seemed at first glance.
Ten years ago, someone everyone called 'You-Know-Who' had tried to take over the magical world, together with his followers, the Death Eaters. But from the article, Hermione still could not work out who he was or why his name was never mentioned anywhere. The main thing she learned was something else: Harry Potter's parents had died protecting their son from this strange and extremely dangerous wizard. And when You-Know-Who had tried to kill one-year-old Harry, he himself had either died or disappeared. That was why Harry Potter had come to be called the Boy Who Lived. And he was famous not because he had been born with a wand in his hand, or because he had performed great miracles from his earliest days, but because after that night, the magical world had finally been rid of one of the most dangerous wizards of his time.
Something else proved no less surprising: Harry Potter had grown up in a Muggle family and, if the article was to be believed, until very recently had not even suspected his own magical origins. Hermione reread the article once more. The image of the spoilt boy she had managed to imagine immediately faded. Harry no longer seemed to her like the boy version of Barbara Grayson. Rather, he was just as much a newcomer to the magical world as she was. And that thought made Hermione far more interested in finding out what he was really like.
She sat there, taking in what she had read, and absent-mindedly turned the amulet in her fingers. Today, for the first time since she had bought it, it had been hanging around her neck all day. Looking at the plain little stone in its setting, she thought about the wizarding world, which she was gradually discovering through the pages of newspapers and magazines. That world had turned out to be nothing like she had imagined. Still, that was understandable. Until now, her ideas about the magical world had come entirely from fairy tales, and fairy tales rarely talked about politics, people getting worked up over sport, or fashion magazines. As it turned out, however, the world of magic was much closer to the world of ordinary people than she had expected. Or rather, to the world of Muggles, as Mr Bridge would surely have corrected her.
Still lost in thought, Hermione picked up her wand. Without any particular purpose, she pointed it at the open Charms textbook lying on the table in front of her and, almost mechanically, said:
"Locomotor!"
For a brief moment, Hermione felt as if something in her chest had responded, barely stirred, and flowed down into the hand holding the wand. To her amazement, the book suddenly came to life and crawled across the table straight towards her. As it moved, it caught her mother's favourite vase. The vase wobbled, slipped off the edge and smashed loudly on the floor.
"Oh!" Hermione cried.
She stared silently at the shards and, bewildered, pressed a hand to her chest, to the place where that strange sensation had just begun. Before, no matter how hard she had tried, nothing had worked. And now, when she had said the spell without any real intention, more out of boredom than anything else, it had worked.
Only after several seconds did Hermione fully realise what had happened to her mother's favourite vase. 'Mum definitely won't be thrilled,' she thought. But almost at once, another thought came to her. Hermione grabbed the Charms textbook, quickly leafed through several pages, looking for the right one, then pointed her wand at the shards and said:
"Reparo!"
The shards trembled slightly, but stayed where they were. Hermione frowned, gripped the wand more tightly, tried to concentrate and repeated:
"Reparo!"
This time the shards shook harder, slid across the floor and began to come together, one after another fitting back into place. A few seconds later, the vase stood whole in front of Hermione again.
She cried out in delight and jumped on the spot. She was actually managing to do magic! 'Strange... What's changed since my last attempts?' she wondered. But at that moment, she heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, and then her parents' voices. Quickly putting the vase back on the table, she ran to meet them.
When Hermione opened the door, her parents were standing on the doorstep. Her mother was smiling a little tiredly, and for some reason her father was holding a bunch of carnations, her favourite flowers.
Hermione was taken aback.
"These are for you," her father said, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. She took them, still not understanding what was happening.
"Hermione..." He coughed and looked away for a second. "I probably wasn't entirely fair. About that school. About magic. About all of it. I still find it hard to accept. But I can see how much it means to you. And if you've decided to go down this road... then I'm sure you'll make an excellent witch!"
Hermione looked at him for several seconds, not quite believing what she had heard. Then she stepped forward and hugged her father tightly. Her mother stood beside them, watching with a smile.
"Well then," she said after a short pause, "shall we put the flowers in water?"
She went into the living room first and froze in the doorway. Hermione peered out from behind her mother's back, and the smile slid off her face. On the table, instead of the vase, there was only a small pile of shards.
***
Summer was drawing to an end, and with each day the August heat grew more stifling. In the evenings and at weekends, Hermione tried to spend more time with her parents, becoming more and more aware that the school year at Hogwarts would soon begin and that she would have to leave home for a long time. The thought of the coming separation troubled her: she had never been away from her family for that long before.
On the last Sunday before her departure, the whole family gathered in the living room to discuss her upcoming journey. Hermione sat beside her mother, leaning against her.
"Mum, Dad, I'm so nervous," she admitted. "It's a completely different world, with its own rules and laws. I've read a little about it, but I really have no idea what's waiting for me there. Who will I end up in class with? How should I behave? What will the other children think of me?"
Her mother looked at her daughter attentively and answered gently:
"Darling, it's perfectly normal to feel nervous before something new. But remember, you are a clever and brave girl, and I'm sure you'll cope with all of it. The main thing is, don't shut yourself away, and try to make friends with the other children. It will make it much easier for you to get used to school, and studying will be more fun too."
When her mother spoke about friends, Hermione could not help thinking of Tommy. They had more or less made up, but the old ease between them still had not returned. Tommy was still a little angry. He had been hoping so much that in the autumn they would go to the same school and everything would stay the way it had been before: breaks, lessons, conversations on the way home. The thought made her heart tighten. It felt as if, by leaving, she had betrayed their friendship, though she knew perfectly well that nothing could be changed now. A new school and a whole new world were waiting for her.
"But what if they don't accept me? What if they look at me like an outsider? I'm not from a wizarding family," Hermione said, remembering a few unfriendly looks she had noticed in the Leaky Cauldron.
"There will probably be people who care about that," her mother agreed. "But there will be others too. People who see you for who you are. How clever, kind and brave you are."
Hermione's frown eased a little.
"And remember, we're always with you," her father added. "Whatever happens, you can count on us."
"And don't forget about us, Hermione. Call us as soon as you can," her mother said.
"There aren't any telephones at Hogwarts," Hermione reminded her. "But I'll write to you often. And the owls will deliver the letters."
Hermione's parents had already grown used to receiving post both from the postman and by owl. Their daughter had quickly got to grips with her first textbooks and was now more and more often ordering new books and various little things for school by owl post.
Hermione noticed the worry in her mother's eyes and hurried to calm her.
"You've already tried sending letters by owl. It's not difficult at all. The main thing is not to be scared of their claws and to let the owl settle calmly on your arm. You'll manage, I'm sure!"
Over the summer, Emma had become accustomed to many strange things in the wizarding world, but owls, letters and the lack of telephones still seemed abnormal to her.
"And I also wanted to ask you to pass my letters on to Tommy," Hermione added, a little embarrassed. "I won't be able to send owls to him myself. He's not supposed to know anything about wizards."
"Of course, darling," her mother agreed.
Suddenly, Hermione jumped to her feet.
"And I'll prove to everyone that I can become a real witch! Look what I learned yesterday!"
She pointed her wand at the windowsill, where a flowerpot stood, and said clearly:
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The pot jolted, rocked a little, and slowly rose above the windowsill. Her mother gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth. Her father merely blinked at first, then murmured:
"Incredible. Simply incredible!"
He looked from the floating flowerpot to Hermione, and there was so much amazement and pride in his eyes that she immediately flushed with embarrassment.
At that moment, loud cries came from outside the windows. Hermione looked out into the street and froze in shock. Directly opposite their house, two stone garden gnomes were flying through the air, tumbling about absurdly. Only a minute earlier, they had been standing on either side of the neighbours' garden path, showing no signs of life at all. Now they were floating helplessly above the path, while the woman who lived there ran around them, shouting for her whole family to come and look at this incredible sight.
Hermione jerked her wand down. The flowerpot crashed back onto the windowsill with a loud crack, and the gnomes instantly fell to the ground and broke into several pieces.
At the sound of the shouting, people began looking out of the neighbouring houses. A minute later, a small crowd had already gathered around the fragments: everyone was talking over one another, asking what had happened, while the woman of the house, throwing up her hands, tried to explain that her stone gnomes had just been flying.
Suddenly, a sharp crack rang out inside the Grangers' house. Hermione flinched and turned round. In the middle of the living room stood a tall, grim man with a thick beard. His stern gaze settled on the wand in Hermione's hand, then slid towards the window, beyond which the neighbours were loudly discussing what had happened.
"The use of magic by minors outside school is strictly forbidden," he said sharply. "Technically, you are not yet under official supervision, Miss Granger, as your studies have not yet begun. However, an incident witnessed by such a large number of Muggles cannot be ignored. From this moment on, you will be kept under constant observation. Any further use of magic in the presence of Muggles may lead to your immediate expulsion from Hogwarts."
Hermione stared at him, unable to say a word. Her mother, still not fully recovered from the shock herself, came over and put an arm around her shoulders. Her father rose from his armchair and adjusted his glasses, clearly about to object. But the stranger did not wait for him to speak.
He turned and went outside, towards the crowd by the neighbours' house. A wand appeared in his hand. One short spell, and people began to disperse as calmly as if nothing unusual had happened. With another flick of his wand, he repaired the broken stone garden gnomes, put them back where they had been, and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared.