Brime Tiggler sat in his long brown car, his long thin fingers clasping the steering wheel. His wife sat beside him and his three children—-all under the age of seven sat in the back. The youngest, Annabelle, was strapped into her infant seat almost asleep. Marcie had put her between the two older children to prevent them from fighting. So far that had been a success, but Brime could sense that time was coming to an end. He had been able to get almost to the end of Jim Dale’s reading of Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince before all hell broke loose.