—12—Cafeteria Stacks and Queues

Frank pushed himself into a crouch and hurried to the door. He tugged and pulled, rattling and thumping the door against its lock. He grasped the rusted iron bars and threw his full weight into the effort, but succeeded only in producing louder clanking sounds.

Frank turned to Socks, hoping the young wizard knew a bar-bending spell. Given the circumstances, he felt confident that Socks would even consent to using a lock-picking spell. But as Frank’s eye caught the smoldering stacks of parchment and the trails of smoke wisping to the ceiling, he froze. An image of a smoke-filled kitchen flashed across his mind, dredging up forgotten memories of his first year in the academy. He could almost hear the cook shouting. ...

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