'You mean, she might die?' Gideon whispered as his body tensed up again.

'I'm afraid it's a possibility, Gideon,' Mr Grimsby replied. 'You see, your mother suffered some injuries as well.'

Nothing was making sense to Gideon. What little he knew about Dementors was not matching up with what he was being told, and why was Mr Grimsby the one here telling him this?

'I don't understand!' he snapped before turning to Chief Healer Dandridge, 'If we've been here a month, how can my mum be in such a bad condition? What's wrong with her?'

She told him frankly, 'To start with, she came in with some severe burns—'

'Burns?' Gideon exclaimed.

'—which for the most part, have healed reasonably well,' the Healer continued. 'The lingering problem is something far more difficult and dangerous to treat. Soul damage.'

'"Soul damage?"' Gideon repeated quietly. This at least sounded more Dementor-related, but it still didn't add up.

'Souls are extremely delicate, but they are invulnerable while affixed to a living vessel,' the Healer explained, 'Dementors have the power to draw a soul out of its container, exposing it to harm. According to a witness, your mother's soul had been exposed.'

Gideon recalled seeing the flickering light that had escaped his mother's mouth while they were both pinned down.

'Treating the soul is an area of magic that the wizarding world still knows very little about, Gideon. However, I want you to know that our best Healers have been working on your mother, and the hospital will continue to do everything we can for her. I must get back to my duties now, but Mr Grimsby has more to discuss with you. Healer Watts will be just outside.'

The woman gave Gideon a kind smile, but he detected a note of something resembling discomfort in her expression as she looked to Mr Grimsby before departing. The man rose out of his seat as they left. Gideon thought this was a polite gesture until Grimsby drew his wand and waved it through the air around them.

'To give us some privacy,' Grimsby explained, apparently referring to a barrier of sorts that he had just erected.

'I want to see my mum,' Gideon demanded, tired of dancing around the issue.

'I'm afraid that's not possible at this time, Gideon,' Grimsby replied.

'Why not?' Gideon asked, growing impatient, 'My eye, my mum's burns; just what happened to us exactly? Who or what gave us these injuries?'

'That's why I'm here, Gideon,' the man said, brushing his hair from his eyes as he leaned forward in his chair. 'It's one of the things I need to tell you­—'

'Tell me what?' Gideon said in exasperation.

Grimsby sighed, 'It was you, Gideon.'

The following gap in their conversation could have lasted minutes or just moments, Gideon wasn't sure. Grimsby's words had opened a dark chasm in the pit of Gideon's stomach, and he felt like he was falling ever deeper into it.

'W-what d'you mean?' Gideon stammered at last.

Mr Grimsby spoke softly, 'You see, Gideon, when the Dementors attacked you, your latent magical abilities were triggered, and you defended yourself—'

'Th-that's a lie!' said Gideon indignantly. 'I don't have any "Latent magical abilities," I'm a Squib!'

'Please, Gideon, I know this is hard to hear, but if you let me explain—'

'Why should I listen to you? I don't even know you!' Gideon cried, his voice growing louder and higher pitched, 'I want to see my mum! Now!'

'I'm sorry but you can't,' Grimsby answered.

'Why not?' Gideon demanded.

'The thing is, you're not allowed.'

'"Not allowed?" Not allowed to see my own mum when you've just told me she might be dying? Says who?'

'Mr Maxwell,' the man said with a grim expression.

'You mean my dad? Well, that's ridiculous! You must have misunderstood. Just bring him here and he can tell you!'

'I've spoken to Mr Maxwell, Gideon, multiple times. I'm afraid he won't come, and he hasn't been here in a month.'

Gideon put his hand to his forehead and rubbed his bandage-covered temples in confusion. 'I-I don't understand what you're saying!' he managed to get out.

'I'm so sorry to be the one to say this, Gideon, but Marcus Maxwell... Well, he isn't your father.'

Gideon guffawed at Grimsby's words but felt a wave of fear wash over him all the same. 'You're nuts!' he declared.

As he tried to make sense of all the information he had received in the last few minutes, Gideon's mind began to spin until he landed on a conclusion that seemed to fit.

'Someone did this to us, didn't they?' he accused, 'Someone did this to us—probably thinking they were being a hero—chased off the Dementors, but then, my mum and I got caught in the crossfire, and now you're covering for them, for the Ministry! Of course, it was probably one of my dad's Aurors. My dad's in on it, isn't he? It's a plan to stop him from getting in trouble, isn't it?'

'That's not true,' Grimsby stated, 'please, calm down and I can explain. I'm here as your legal representative.'

Gideon had had enough. He wasn't processing anything he was hearing, but it was all swirling around in his brain. Rather than face any of it, he adopted a singular focus to see his mother. Somehow, he thought seeing her would fix things.

'This is crazy! You're crazy! I'm seeing my mum, and you can't stop me!' Gideon yelled as he tore off his bed sheets.

He made to leave Grimsby and go in search of the critical care ward, but unfortunately, a month in bed had affected his muscles, and his legs failed him. Gideon was determined, though, and pulled himself off the cold floor using the metal bed rails.

'Gideon, please,' Mr Grimsby pleaded, standing on the other side of the bed watching the struggle with a look of pity on his face.

Gideon managed to get to his feet, but he still felt like he had been hit with the Jelly Legs Jinx. Or at least, what he imagined the effects of the spell he had read about would feel like.

'I want to see my mum,' Gideon repeated quietly to himself as he hobbled away from the bed. Sadly, he didn't get very far as he found himself impeded by Grimsby's invisible barrier spell.

'I want to see my mum!' he yelled at Grimsby with tears running down his red cheeks, his heartbeat now racing.

Grimsby walked over with the intention of escorting Gideon back to bed but as soon as he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder it was slapped away.

'Get your hands off me! You can't keep me here! Let me out! I want to see my mum!' Gideon cried wildly, and he continued to do so as Grimsby lifted him back onto the bed and held his arm tightly.

Jonathan Grimsby had hoped their discussion would go smoother, but he had accounted for the eventuality that Gideon wouldn't be able to digest it. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small black object, which he then pressed against Gideon's arm.

'Argh!' Gideon shouted as the object stung him in a familiar way, 'What do you think you're playing at? What did you do to me? Help! Mum! Dad! Someone help! HELP! HELP!'

Grimsby ignored Gideon's protestations and viewed the object in his hand, the centre of which, promptly emitted a faint red glow. There was more he needed to discuss with the boy, but apparently, now was not the time. He drew his wand as Gideon continued to shout.

With a wave, Grimsby removed his barrier and called out, 'Healer Watts?'

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The Healer dashed into the room with a lime-robed colleague and together they magically restrained and sedated Gideon once again.

'No! You can't do this!' Gideon yelled vehemently as he felt the effects of the magic quickly take hold, his eyelid becoming heavy and his limbs losing their strength, 'I want—I want to see... My mum...'

***

When Gideon next awoke, he was alone in his hospital bed again. Judging by the light it was morning once more. This time, though, it looked like he was supposed to be awake. At the end of his bed was a tray on wheels with a water jug, a goblet, a plate with a cloche and a newspaper.

Not in any mood to talk, but desperately thirsty, Gideon reached for the tray. He was glad to find it was within reach of his renewed magical restraints and rolled it towards him. He filled the goblet with water and drained half of it immediately, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and reflected on his situation.

He felt numb. It was an odd feeling considering how upset he had been before. He remembered everything about his conversation with Jonathan Grimsby—if it had in fact taken place, and he was fairly certain that it had.

Gideon considered whether he might be losing his mind, which might be a happier explanation for the unbelievable things he had been told, if not for his crazed reaction. But then, how was one supposed to act in times like these? He had survived a life-threatening attack, been severely injured in the process, been told his mother might die, that his father was holding him responsible for it and that he had perhaps, what? Disowned him?

It all seemed as unlikely as the story he had concocted in his manic state to explain it all away. A Ministry of Magic conspiracy, as if that could happen. Gideon still didn't know what to believe, but he had a clue in front of him. He unfurled the copy of the Daily Prophet on his tray and scanned the top for the date. There it was in print, "Tuesday 19 July 2022".

Gideon's heart sank. Assuming the newspaper wasn't some sort of Ministry plant, it had indeed been over a month since Gideon had sat his exams. The Dementor attack at least, had been real, but how much of what he had understood from Grimsby was true, and to what extent? Did his father really blame him for what happened? Where was he, and the rest of the family for that matter? Did they all blame him?

With more difficulty than usual, owing to only one of his eyes being in use, Gideon read the newspaper in front of him to distract himself from such thoughts. The moving photograph for the top story showed a group of middle-aged people patting a dignified-looking man with platinum-blonde hair on the back and shaking his hand. The article read:

WIZENGAMOT FIGHTS BACK

Disgruntled members of the Wizengamot are uniting under the banner of one of their own against the continued, and arguably unlawful, actions taken by the Minister for Magic.

Draco Malfoy, a little-known member of the Wizengamot, has received a show of support among his peers after speaking out against the Minister for Magic, and her continued disregard for the established procedures for creating and implementing wizarding law.

The Minister for Magic has become known for her use of Executive Orders to introduce or change wizarding law, rather than having controversial bills reviewed and approved via the Wizengamot. This has upset members of the esteemed committee and many in the wider magical community. To date, 34 members of the Wizengamot have resigned their positions in protest.

After yesterday's announcement of increased powers being given to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures' Elvish Welfare Team, Mr Malfoy had this to say:

'I have great respect for Minister Granger-Weasley, but I fear she has lost her way. Her continued flouting of our laws and traditions must be challenged, and whether she believes it or not, it is the job of the Wizengamot to do so.

'To my fellow members, I say this, resignation is not the way. Admirable though they were to do so, our former colleagues' actions have had no effect on the Minister, as evidenced by her latest attack on our way of life.

'Instead of expressing our outrage individually, we must do so collectively, by coming together as one to find a way forward. As such, I am calling for an emergency meeting of the full Wizengamot to discuss this issue.'

Mr Malfoy, forty-two, son of renounced Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, was among the previous Minister for Magic's final appointments to the Wizengamot. Speaking of his selection, Minister Shacklebolt noted Mr Malfoy's considerable philanthropic activities and contribution to post-war recovery efforts. A respected but quiet member of the wizarding judiciary until now, Mr Malfoy said he "could no longer sit idly by while our democracy is under threat".

Among those congratulating Mr Malfoy was Mrs Kerry Dwight, fifty-one, a home-schooling tutor who has suffered from loss of income as a result of the Minister's education reforms:

'He's saying what everyone is thinking! Well, most people anyway, the silent majority. While the more progressive types in the community are celebrating Granger-Weasley's reforms and improvements coming in quick succession, they don't understand that she is opening the door for future Ministers to have unprecedented powers! People are scared to speak against her for fear of being labelled a hard-liner, or worse... But it's the Wizengamot's job, isn't it? I'm just glad one of them finally spoke out!' Continued on page 2.

Gideon imagined his dad and the rest of the family gathered around the dinner table arguing about the article over a delicious meal. He couldn't help but wonder whether they had already done so without him. As Gideon's stomach growled, he lifted the cloche on his tray to find a plate of cold scrambled egg, sausages and toast. It was nothing compared to Tilly's cooking, but he wolfed it down as he continued to read.

HUNT FOR NEXT HOGWARTS HEAD CONTINUES

After the shock announcement of Minerva McGonagall's resignation in May, the search continues for her replacement and according to multiple sources, it isn't going well.

First appointed Headmistress following the Battle of Hogwarts, the widely celebrated and admired Professor has been a Hogwarts institution for over sixty years. She helped fill the void left by Albus Dumbledore and put her own stamp on the education of young British witches and wizards during our recovery.

Unfortunately, her many achievements and accolades, and the many staffing changes at Hogwarts over the last decade, are making it more difficult to find a suitable replacement. Top candidates have turned down the position, some publicly, including former Deputy Headmaster, Filius Flitwick, who retired just five years ago:

'Minerva has done an exemplary job over the years. I don't envy the person who has to fill her shoes!'

Rumours are circulating that if the Hogwarts Board of Governors can’t find a suitable replacement by the end of the month, the Minister for Magic may appoint her own candidate, which has sparked uproar and concern in the community. Continued on page 6.

'Ah, you're awake. How are you today, Gideon?' asked Healer Watts, who had appeared at the end of his bed.

Gideon recalled how she had helped restrain him yesterday, but the woman had a kind face, and he still wasn't feeling much in the way of emotion, so he didn't hold it against her. He answered honestly, 'I don't know.'

'Well, if you're feeling up to it, Mr Grimsby still needs to speak with you. He asked me to contact him as soon as you were ready to talk,' she said.

'I'm ready now!' Gideon said louder than intended, visibly startling the Healer. 'Sorry, I just—I just need to talk to him. I won't flip out again, I promise.'

'Okay, then. I will send an owl right away,' she assured him with a smile.

***

True to his word, Jonathan Grimsby turned up at the hospital just a few hours later. If Gideon were feeling much of anything, he thought he might have been angry to see the man enter the ward. He thought he might also have been glad for the man's arrival, if only because he had finished reading the newspaper and didn't have anything else to keep him occupied.

Grimsby had a quick word with Healer Watts, and then greeted Gideon, 'Good afternoon. Healer Watts tells me you're feeling better?'

Gideon didn't know about that, but he was ready to hear what the man had to say, so he nodded.

'She has agreed to let us get out of the room,' Grimsby said. 'I was thinking we could go up to the tearoom on the fifth floor for some hot chocolate. What do you think?'

'Sure,' Gideon agreed.

Grimsby helped Gideon into an old-fashioned wooden wheelchair, which Healer Watts then magically affixed his restraint bands to, and Grimsby steered. They journeyed silently out of the ward and up to the fifth floor in the lift, only speaking again when they finally entered the large canteen.

'I'll just get our drinks,' said Grimsby, parking Gideon at a quiet table in the corner of the large canteen. Gideon watched as the man paid a white-haired woman for two large hot chocolates, which she topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. He figured the man would have ordered a grown-up drink like coffee for himself. Judging from the look the server gave him, she had as well.

Grimsby returned with the drinks and sat down across from Gideon. 'First off, I would like to apologise to you, Gideon,' he said. 'I don't know if there is a good way to discuss the things we need to talk about, but I know I didn't handle things well yesterday. Do you recall everything that I did mention?'

Gideon nodded in reply again.

'Well hopefully the shock has sunk in, and I can tell you what you need to know plainly. Would that be okay?'

Gideon verbalised his response this time, 'Yes. Please!' Straight answers were exactly what he needed. He had decided that whatever feelings Grimsby's explanations might invoke, he would put them all in a box in his mind and deal with them later. For now, he needed to know the truth.

'Okay,' said Grimsby before taking a long swig from his cup, leaving cream all over his top lip, and prompting the edges of Gideon's mouth to flicker momentarily. 'Well, to start with, I've known Marcus Maxwell for a long time, Gideon, but I've never seen him as he is. He is distraught over what's happened to your mum and you, and I think that's led him to do things he wouldn't normally do.'

'Including disown me?' Gideon asked dryly, trying to make light of his predicament.

'Not quite. The truth is, he does blame you for what happened, and he has arranged to stop you from seeing your mum. I can't talk him around. No one can.' Grimsby took another sip of his drink before continuing, 'What might be harder to hear,' he said hesitantly, 'is that the Maxwells aren't your biological family, Gideon.'

Gideon's insides went cold. He had always felt like the black sheep of the family. He knew he looked different and was treated differently to an extent, but he had never seriously considered that he wasn't actually a Maxwell by blood. He took a big mouthful of hot chocolate and swallowed it along with his feelings.

'So, I'm adopted?' Gideon enquired, barely audible.

Grimsby looked at him sympathetically and nodded his head around strangely, 'For all intents and purposes, yes, but there is a problem. No one can take away the connection you have with your family, but legally, the Maxwells never officially adopted you. That's why your father's actions are creating some difficulty now.'

'Then, who am I?' Gideon asked, wondering if the question made him sound like he was having an existential crisis. 'Legally speaking, I mean,' he clarified.

'Well, unfortunately, your birth mother passed away in an accident when you were a baby. The case—you—were assigned to me at the Ministry,' Grimsby explained. 'We were never able to find any record of your birth father or any other relatives, so you were going to be placed in an orphanage. At the last moment, Sarah and Marcus agreed to take you in. Until we can resolve the issue with your dad, and I'm sure we will eventually, technically speaking, you are Gideon Drake.'