Deep inside the Ministry of Magic, a quill started writing on a scroll of parchment.
A Ministry official hurried over and read the fresh line. He called out to the room, "It’s happened again! Someone, who is not a known witch or wizard, has performed magic!"
A red robed witch hurried up to the scroll, "We’ve got the name now and the place. That’s better. Send it off to the Aurors. They have to track this person down and find out who this Leo Sirius Blake is and how he is doing this."
In a tiny lockup in Surbiton, Leo Sirius Blake was putting out the fire in the waste rag bin. This is not right. He started the day being angry, fuming and it got worse when he couldn’t find his best 5/8-inch ring spanner. He rolled up a wad of oily rag and threw it into the bin. Something had come out of his hand and set fire to the rag before it hit the bin. He heard someone shout out, "It’s happened again!". Leo looked around, there was no one there.
Just in the last week, if he let himself get really upset, this weird stuff happened. Leo always knew he was just a tiny bit not normal. He had also been told that normal was a setting on a clothes dryer, so don’t worry about it. If it got worse, what would he do? There was still nobody there to answer him.
Of course, he wasn’t normal. He had asked girls out on dates, that wasn’t a problem. Then, they always seemed to have something else to do when he asked them out again. Last night, his latest date had told him that she didn’t know what it was but something about him made her feel creepy. She walked out as quick as she could, didn’t even wait to be taken home.
Leo kept cleaning his great love, besides his mum. It was his 1953 Vincent Black Shadow motorcycle. Leo paid a lot of his wages to rent this secure garage to keep his Vincent in. He had been helping his employer, Arthur Smith, pick up two classic cars from a deceased estate sale. Looking around the sale, Leo saw in a large pile of boxes what he knew to be the motorcycle completely taken apart. He offered ten pounds for the boxes of parts and the executor was glad to be rid of them. It took eighteen months almost every night and weekend to build up the Vincent. To say the least, Leo loved it. But that wasn’t what was making Leo worried.
It was the weird stuff.
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