Story 525: Be Careful When You Wish for Snow

             (In a townhouse, Resident sits in an armchair staring out the living room window at the bright sunny day and sighs from the bottom of the lungs to the top of the mouth)

Resident: <Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh> I wish we’d have some actual snow this winter.

(A mythologically tiny person pops into view in the middle of the room)

Weather Elf: Your wish is my command!

 Resident: (Leaps out of the chair) Ah!  Demon!  (Grabs a nearby magazine and flings it at Weather Elf, who side-steps out of the way)

Weather Elf: Hey!  But I suppose my appearance was a bit abrupt – would you prefer if I popped outside and knocked on the front door instead?

Resident: (Brandishes a coaster to throw next) What?  No!

Weather Elf: Suit yourself; I’ll just pop over here and relax, then.  (Pops onto the couch and settles in) Got any tea?

Resident: Wha – I – who – you invaded my home, and now you want tea?!  What kind of burglar are you?!

Weather Elf: None, luckily for you, or else this would’ve taken a real nasty turn by now.  I’m a Weather Elf, and you summoned me here – unintentionally, it’s becoming increasingly apparent.  (Resident stares unblinkingly, coaster still raised in the air) Have a seat; we’re not going anywhere anytime soon.  And would you please put that thing down?  I’m clearly not someone who’d be affected by mortal weapons, so you’re only embarrassing yourself.

Resident: (Abashedly sets the coaster back onto a lamp table and sits in the armchair again) All right, then – what do you want?

Weather Elf: Nothing from you: as I said upon my sudden entrance, “Your wish is my command.”  (Does a slight bow while seated, for emphasis) I appropriated that line from the genies, but they’re in the process of obtaining self-emancipation and ultimate retribution so I don’t think they’ll mind too much.  Or notice.

Resident: (Thinking back) Wait, so you heard me wish for snow, and now you’re taking it upon yourself to make it happen?

Weather Elf: Pretty much.  (Nods head at the window) Take a look.

Resident: (Turns to the window and jumps out of the chair again upon seeing that the sunny day is now darkly gray and there are several inches of snow on the ground, with more continuously falling) Whoa!  When did that happen?!

Weather Elf: As soon as I got here, and all the while we’ve been… chatting.

Resident: (Still staring out the window in awe, and now softly smiling at the beauty of the winter wonderland) Wow….

Weather Elf: I know, right?  (Inspects fingernails smugly) Blizzards are my specialty.

Resident: (Snaps out of trance and whips around to face Weather Elf) “Blizzard”?!  No-no-no, I just wanted a little snow!

Weather Elf: (Lowers hand back down and softly sighs in irritation) Not a mind reader, you know.  This area hasn’t had much snow for years, and you clearly stated “actual snow”, which means you wanted a lot of it to make up for lost accumulation.

Resident: Well, yeah, but not a blizzard!  Just one or two inches to cover the grass and trees so they look like a picture postcard!  (Turns back to the window, places both hands on the glass, and leans in to get a better look) Is it a foot already?!

Weather Elf: You betcha!  I figured 18 inches oughta do it.

Resident: (Turns back to Weather Elf) “18 inches”????!!!!

Weather Elf: Uh-huh.  Haven’t seen that around here in almost 30 years, am-I-right?  Should take you straight back to the glory days of your self-absorbed childhood.  (The two stare at each other for a bit) Wanna go sledding?

Resident: No!  This much snow only means the roads’ll be impassable and people’ll probably lose power, and heat!  (Sinks into the chair and covers face with both hands) Oh no, what’ve I done?!  There was so much damage from the flooding and the winds from the random rainstorms last week, and now this!

Weather Elf: (Gets off the couch to walk over to Resident and pat the latter on the shoulder) There, there – no one’s going to lose power in this one, or get any damage, and the roads’ll stay clear so the only accumulation’ll be on the grass and the trees.  The stuff’ll even miraculously stay off the power lines and any other equipment you mortals need to run your daily lives.  Happy?

Resident: (Looks up at Weather Elf and sniffs) Even my car?

Weather Elf: (Glares at Resident) Yes, even all the cars.  It’ll be an inexplicable phenomenon that all the science nerds will spend the next century trying to figure out – but they never will, tee-hee-hee!  (Resident stares blankly at Weather Elf) C’mon, I gotta have some sprinkling of mischief in this.

Resident: Why?

Weather Elf: It’s a compulsion – can’t be helped.  So, can you finally just enjoy this weather event that you longed for, hm?

Resident: (Looks back out the window and is momentarily hypnotized by the steady snowfall and a passing rabbit hopping by in the calm scene) Yes, I think I can.  (Turns back to Weather Elf) Thank you, I really appreciate it.

Weather Elf: Good, since your eternal soul is now MINE.  (Resident’s eyes widen in horror) Had you there for a second.  I love pulling that one: freaks you mortals out every time.

Resident: No kidding.  But seriously, do I owe you some kind of payment now, like seven years of servitude or something like that?

Weather Elf: No, why would you?  You didn’t ask me specifically to do this and we didn’t sign any agreements beforehand, so why would you owe me anything?

Resident: I dunno, I guess because nothing’s ever free, and “Be careful what you wish for,” and these things always come with strings attached and, you know, everything.

Weather Elf: Well – smart, but not applicable in this case.  I really did grant your wish out of the goodness of my heart.

Resident: Aw.

Weather Elf: And I was extremely bored.

Resident: Ah.

Weather Elf: So – we good here?

Resident: Sounds like it, yeah.  Thanks again; this was… nice.

Weather Elf: You’re welcome.  Enjoy the magic of the season you so desperately crave, while it lasts.  (Pops out of view)

Resident: (Turns back to the window, smiling broadly while watching the snow accumulate another six inches on the grass while avoiding the roads and electrical equipment, then furrows brows in thought) Hmmmmm… I wonder if I can call out for a snow day even though I work from home…?

Weather Elf: (Voice) Don’t push it.

Story 482: Isn’t It Magic

(In a packed theater, Magician takes the stage)

Magician: (Bowing to thunderous applause) Thank you!  Thank you, everyone!  And now that I’ve returned the stage to this building after depositing it in the middle of the South Pole, I’m going to play that riskiest of wild cards in live entertainment and ask for a volunteer from the audience!  (Hands are raised and held down equally eagerly)  And just so you don’t think I have a prearranged assistant out there somewhere who has to watch the same show every night, I’m going to favor the higher-paying orchestra seats by tossing out this everyday, innocuous, perfectly innocent rubber ball for one of you randos to catch!  (Waves a hand to make the ball appear out of thin air) If you get hit in the head with this, your ticket purchase means you can’t sue. 

(Magician throws the ball high over the orchestra section where it is fumbled several times on the landing; meanwhile, an audience member from the mezzanine leaps off the railing, lands on a number of upraised hands to crowd surf a bit, and dives for the ball around Row J as others swarm, eventually wrenching it away and holding it aloft)

Magician: (Blinks a few times at the spectacle) Ohhhh-kaaaaay…. From what I could barely see past these blinding lights, whoever actually has the ball now, come on up!

(Volunteer runs up to the stage, leaps up the steps, and hands the ball to Magician, who makes it disappear again with a flourish)

Magician: Hello, welcome, here’s a microphone – (Drops a loop of cords around Volunteer’s neck) so I don’t have to hold one for you, and what’s your name?

Volunteer: I’d rather not announce it to a thousand strangers.

Magician: …We’ll skip that part, then.  And are you enjoying the show so far?

Volunteer: Oh yes, it’s really helping my new career.

Magician: Really, and that is…?

Volunteer: Professional Magic Debunker.

Magician: …What?!

Volunteer: You’re giving me a run for my money tonight but I think I’ve almost got it all figured out, like when everybody here mentally picked out the Queen of Spades `cause it always would be that card no matter what –

Magician: What a character!  On with the next trick!  (Stage crew members wheel out a chalkboard, a table with a hat and cards, and a chair) Now then!  Please have a seat. (Gestures to the chair; Volunteer sits) Have you ever had your mind truly read before?

Volunteer: No, and I never will because there’s no such thing as telepathy.

Magician: Ahahaha! – hold this card.  (Gives Volunteer a card) Now: I have written several numbers and words on that card that will be revealed later – please put it in your pocket for now.  (Volunteer does so).  Right: let’s begin, shall we?  (Holds hands on head while staring at Volunteer; spooky background music plays) Pick a number between 1 and 7,000, and without speaking, send it to my mind.

Volunteer: That’s impossible: the human brain has no capability to receive specific thoughts generated by the neurons of another brain as sensory input.

Magician: (Through gritted teeth) Humor me.  (Closes eyes and holds head again as Volunteer stares back) Got it!  (Writes “3,728” on the chalkboard)

Volunteer: That’s not the number I was thinking.

Magician: Oh?  Are you sure?  THEN WHAT’S IN YOUR POCKET?!

Volunteer: (Pulls out the card from earlier and holds it up for a crew member to film and project on a screen that it reads “3,728”, along with “49”, “BAT”, and “SAGITTARIUS”; the audience members cheer wildly) You already wrote this out and then said the same number just now.  Normally, I think you would have switched out the cards before the big reveal in case you couldn’t steer me to these answers, though.

Magician: (Freezes for a moment, then mutters) Blast, skipped a step.  (Louder) That was just a warm-up!  Now, the real game begins!  (Gestures for Volunteer to stand) Tell me, did you have a wallet on your person when you came up here?

Volunteer: Yes, but you lifted it before I sat down – I didn’t want to cause a scene.  You’d make an excellent thief, by the –

Magician: SO, how did it wind up in that locked box ALL THE WAY UP THERE?!!!!  (Points dramatically to a transparent box sitting on a raised platform stage left where a wallet can be seen inside; the audience members cheer wildly)

Volunteer: (Squints up at it in thought) Hmmmm… ah!  You gave it to one of the stage crew earlier, or that’s not my wallet and you’ll switch it out when you open the box later.

Magician: (Grinning in desperation; to the audience) Isn’t this one hilarious?!  (The audience members laugh)

Volunteer: I wasn’t trying to be funny –

Magician: And on to the last bit!  (Stage crew members remove the other props and wheel out a closed, long rectangular box on a raised platform) And now, with this expert witness, I will astound your minds as I proceed to SAW MYSELF IN HALF!

Volunteer: Wait, what?!

Magician: (Spins the platform around to show the audience all angles, opens all sides of the long box, hops inside to lie down, and closes the sides; to Volunteer) Now, my faithful newly-dubbed assistant, could you please check underneath this platform and all sides and confirm to our lovely audience that there are no mirrors whatsoever?

Volunteer: (Walks around the platform, peering and waving an arm below it and inspecting all sides) Well, no mirrors – (Stops at one point) although there is –

Magician: (Facing away from the audience to address Volunteer through clenched teeth) You want your wallet back?!  I also took your cell phone and an incriminating locket.

Volunteer: – nothing to see here!

Magician: (Back to the audience) Wonderful!  And here we go!  (Picks up a hand saw that was lying next to the box and saws self in half) Ooh!  Ow!  Eek!  Aha!  Faithful assistant, please pull me apart!  (Volunteer pulls the lower half of the box away that has Magician’s feet poking out of the end and waving around; the upper half waves at the audience which is cheering wildly) Now spin me!  (Volunteer spins the lower half around and then walks over to the upper half to spin that as well, to even louder cheers) Now put me back together!

Volunteer: (Reconnecting the halves) I must say, the engineering –

Magician: Isn’t this a wonderful assistant, folks?!  (The audience members cheer wildly) And now, assistant, open the box!  (Volunteer opens the lids; the intact Magician leaps out and bows to thunderous applause) Thank you!  You’ve been a wonderful audience!  (Turns to Volunteer, grabs a bunch of items out of various pockets, and hands them to the latter while removing the microphone) And you!  (Mutters) Not so great.

Volunteer: (Looks back up to the stage left platform) Hey, what happened to the box that should’ve had my wallet?!

Magician: Aha, what box?  (Menacingly) You see what I want you to see.  (Smiles broadly, then pulls a bouquet of real flowers from Volunteer’s ear) A memento for your time here tonight!

Volunteer: (Accepts the bouquet gingerly) I have to admit, that conjuring bit always gets me.

Story 424: Harry Potter and the Ordinary School Year: A Parody

 [Inspired by the 20^th anniversary of the first movie]

 (After the massive metaphorical and literal clean-up necessitated by the Battle of Hogwarts, it is realized that Harry, Ron, and Hermione never actually attended school in the past nine months and still need to complete their seventh year)

 SEPTEMBER 1998

 (In a reserved carriage on the Hogwarts Express)

Hermione: (Already halfway through one of her class’s textbooks) You know, after all we’ve been through, I’m actually quite looking forward to returning to school.

Ron: You would.  Thought I’d catch a break and be showered with all the awards this school could muster for helping save the world, but nope!  Back to mind-numbing classes and ulcer-inducing exams.  (Scarfs down an enchanted piece of pie)

Hermione: I know, isn’t it exciting?!  I’m especially looking forward to taking the N.E.W.T.s, the capstone exam to my academic career!

Ron: And then what?  There’s no more school after that so you’ll have get yourself a job, my lass.

Hermione: (Stares into the middle distance in existential horror) No more school…?

Ron: Oi, Harry, how do you feel about all this?

Harry: (Gazing dreamily out the train window) Do you ever stop and appreciate how not having the fate of world resting on your shoulders or murderous psychopaths constantly after you is such a freeing state of experience to be in?

Ron: …I think that one’s unique to you, mate.

(In the Great Hall at Hogwarts, refurbished to include buffet tables, the Sorting Ceremony has just completed)

Headmistress McGonagall: My first official announcement this year is that this is the last year we will be sorting students into four houses – it is an antiquated tradition that causes division and unnecessary, damaging competition, and in light of recent events we all need to stand together as one school, not arbitrarily separated by who is supposedly brave, smart, evil, and whatever.

Harry: (Mutters to Hermione and Ron in their VIP section of the Gryffindor table) Here we go, folks: I’m already longing for 'The Good Old Days,' and we’re technically still in them.

Hermione: I think it’s a brilliant decision, long overdue.

Harry: But then who’s going to win the House Cup at the end of the year?

Hermione: Who cares?

Harry: (Gasps) You shut your school spirit-less mouth!

Ron: Steady on, Harry – keep going like that and I’ll have to defend my lady’s honor.  With my fists, just so we’re clear.

Harry: Sorry, Hermione.  And I blessedly forgot for a moment you and Ron are a 'thing' now.

Hermione: (Besottedly smiles at Ron and holds his hand, who besottedly smiles and holds her hand back) Only took us until the last year we’d’ve been here to realize it fully.

Ron: Yeah.  And who knows, maybe in another seven years, we’ll make it official!

Hermione: Oh Ronald, I never knew you could be so romantic!

Harry: I will throw up right here if you both don’t quit it in five seconds.

Ron: (Lets go of Hermione’s hand and resumes his attack on the main course) Look who’s Mr. Grumpy – not my fault your girlfriend chose to spend her seventh year as an exchange student at Beauxbatons.

Harry: (Through gritted teeth) Oh don’t you worry about me, Ron.  I’ll be seeing your sister at Hogsmeade and/or Paris every weekend, plus holidays!  (Winks exaggeratedly)

Ron: EWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!

Headmistress McGonagall: If that’s all from our extremely senior students, off to bed with the lot of you.  (A chorus of moans is her reply)

Harry: (Raises hand) Excuse me, Professor –

Headmistress McGonagall: It’s Headmistress now, but your error is understandable: proceed.

Harry: Sorry if I missed this earlier, but who is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?

Headmistress McGonagall: Didn’t you get my owl?

Harry: No…?  Maybe – I got all the owls this summer, it seemed.

Headmistress McGonagall: You were offered a stipend if you wanted to teach that class.

(The entire school stares at Harry in anticipation)

Harry: Thanks, but I think I’ve had enough of that subject to last me a lifetime.

Headmistress McGonagall: Well then, since no one else wants to touch that subject here with a 10-meter pole, it’s off the roster until the next evil wizard or witch shows up to cause a fuss – good luck to the rest of you.

(The students file out of the Great Hall and head to their respective dormitories; the Gryffindor students are dumped into the Formerly Forbidden Corridor after a moving staircase swings them away in the opposite direction of where they need to go, and they slowly navigate their way back)

Gryffindor Seventh Year: (Approaches from behind Harry) Excuse me – (Harry turns around and stops; Ron and Hermione also stop to listen) I used to be a year behind you so we never formally met, and I don’t want to assume incorrectly –

Harry: Of course; very wise of you.

Gryffindor Seventh Year: Just to be sure, are you really the Harry Potter, the one who defeated Fake-Lord Voldemort?

Harry: (Sighs in only half-irritation) Yes, I am he, formerly The Chosen One, lately The Saviour of the World, or what you will.  (Spreads arms out in resignation)

Gryffindor Seventh Year: (Straight-arm punches Harry in the face; the latter falls back into Ron’s and Hermione’s arms) That’s for ruining school for me EVERY SINGLE YEAR, ya git!  (Storms off to join the rest of the group that is now far ahead of them)

Harry: (Rubs jaw as Ron and Hermione help him stand up straight and they all continue on their way; shouts after the student) It wasn’t all my fault you know!

Ron: It never was.

Harry: Don’t you start up with that again, pal, I am on my last nerve!

(In Charms class the following day)

Professor Flitwick: Today, I’m going to show you all how to cast a spell where your wand’s core will interact with another wand’s core of the same material.  (Harry starts twitching in his seat) Those of you who have already done that may sit out this session.

Harry: (Grabs his satchel of books and runs out the door) Thank youuuuuuu!!!!

Hermione: (Whispers to Ron) I will never understand why anyone would want to be excused from a class.

Ron: (Smiles and whispers back, rubbing her hand) You’re so cute.

(In a corridor, Harry nearly crashes into Draco Malfoy; they both stop short)

Harry: Oh… I… didn’t know you’d be here this year.

Draco: I was on the train and sat the next table over from you at the Welcoming Feast.

Harry: Right.  Soooooooo, what’s new?  (Winces)

Draco: Taking my seventh year, same as you three.  Mother and, surprisingly, Father thought it would be best, and I agreed.

Harry: How… nice.

Draco: Yeah.  (They stare at the floor) A bit awkward with none of our other classmates around from all those years here, though.

Harry: I know, right?  This place now feels like it’s filled with babies!

Draco: (Laughs; Harry recoils in shock) It’s even worse with the redecorating after all the – (Clears throat) unpleasantness this past spring.

Harry: Tell me about it: they finally demolished the unused bathroom that was only good for hiding a monster cave entrance, but that only left poor Moaning Myrtle wandering around everywhere like a – like a ghost, really.

Draco: Right, and did you see that the Room of Requirement now is visible at all times, for everyone?  What’s the point of having a secret stash room if just anyone can walk in and dump their rubbish there?

Harry: (Shakes his head sadly) Disgusting.  Whelp, Malfoy, I think this has been the first pleasant interaction we’ve had in our entire lives – I’m going outside to thrash some first years in Quidditch now. 

Draco: Go at it.  I’m off to Advanced Potions myself – Professor Slughorn’s all right, but he’s no… well, you know.

Harry: (Thoughtfully) Huh.  Merlin’s beard, I never thought there’d be a day where I’d actually miss Professor Snape. 

Draco: We live in strange times, my friend.  (Pats Harry on the shoulder and leaves)

Harry: (Staring after Draco) Is this a fever dream, or have I actually reached a point in my life where I have zero enemies?!

 DECEMBER 1998

(In the Great Hall, Hermione and Ron are all packed to leave for break and approach Harry at a random table, having breakfast in his pajamas and reading the inaugural school newspaper)

Ron: I still don’t get why you’re staying here: you always come over to my family’s house for the holidays, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Ginny’ll be there the whole time if you need additional incentive!

Harry: Call me sentimental, but I’m trying to relive the wonderful days when I was an unwanted orphan and had to stay at this enchanting place during our first winter break, stumbling upon the mystery of the Philosopher’s Stone and Voldemort’s detached face stuck to the back of Professor Quirrell’s head – it was a simpler time.

Hermione: Harry, don’t take this the wrong way but I think coming back here for one last school year may be driving you a bit mad.

Harry: Rubbish.  I’ve never been so relaxed in my entire life!  Now shove off.  (The others shrug at each other and start to leave; Harry resumes reading the newspaper) And don’t you two come back pregnant now, you hear?!  Plenty of time for that later.

Ron: Nutter.  Almost makes me wish Voldemort were here to give him something to focus on.

                                                                JUNE 1999           

 (In the Gryffindor Common Room, Draco is playing Wizard’s Chess with Ron as Hermione is writing her monograph titled Hogwarts: An Updated History)

Harry: (Bursts in, beaming) Well kids, just got the word: I failed all my N.E.W.T.s.

Ron: What?!

Hermione: (Stands abruptly) Harry!  I’ve never heard such a disappointing thing in my life!  Say it isn’t so!

Harry: Nope!

Hermione: Oh thank goodness.

Harry: No, I mean I won’t say it isn’t so, because it is and I have to take this year over again.

Draco: But Harry, if you want to be an auror you have to pass all your N.E.W.T.s the first time.  Would you like me to have my Fath– (Shakes his head) an untainted relative speak to someone about this?

Harry: I appreciate it, Draco, but it’s all part of the plan.  (Stretches out on the couch and dozes off)

Ron: Plan to stay here forever, I think.

Harry: (Sleepily) If you insist.

 SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

 (After graduation, Ron and Hermione find Harry sitting in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, meditating)

Ron: Hiya, Harry.  Figured we’d find you here.

Harry: You figured correctly.  (He slowly opens his eyes and stands) Let me guess: Hermione was named first in the class, and Ron finally popped the question.

(Ron’s jaw hangs open in shock as Hermione runs to Harry and hugs him)

Hermione: We wanted you to be the first to know!  After our families, that is.  (She holds out her left hand to show him the heirloom ring) Ron said his mother wanted me to have it.

Harry: Nice.  All I got Ginny was a piece of tinfoil.

Ron: WHAT?!

Harry: Kidding – I conjured the Hope Diamond and had it set in my mother’s ring.  Nothing’s too special for my woman.

Ron: This is the first I’m hearing of this!

Harry: That’s because it hasn’t happened yet, psych!  (Ron looks murderously at him) But it will!  At some point.  So, congratulations you two, on this and finishing school – top marks to Hermione, naturally – and the jobs I heard you have lined up; you seem to have great lives ahead of you.

Hermione: What about you, Harry?  After you finish here next year.

Ron: Yeah Harry, won’t you have a wedding to plan?!

Harry: Who knows, I may not finish here next year; there’s no telling what the future may bring.

Ron: Harry!  Out of the three of us, I was the one who should’ve wound up the aimless failure, not you!

Harry: Don’t worry your sweet head about me, Ronald – I’ll get my act together next year, I promise.  It’s just, this year I really wanted to enjoy my time at school, you know?  So I gave myself a break from both the struggle to survive and the struggle to complete never-ending reams of handwritten parchment and repetitive exercises, and instead spent time with my friends, and going places and doing things I never got a chance to do while I was here before.

Hermione: Is that why you joined the Poetry Club?

Harry: That, and it really gave me a chance to express myself.  So – (Slaps Ron and Hermione on their shoulders) off you go, you two!  I’ll see you at the party later at the Weasleys’.

Hermione: All right Harry, we’ll look for you then.

Harry: That’s another thing: this is the end of the school year, and people have only said my first and last names together a grand total of four times.  I’m never gonna reach my quota at this rate!

Ron: Seriously, mate, what you probably need is an actual holiday to the beach or the mountains or anywhere that’s far, far away from here.  (He and Hermione hold hands and disapparate)

Harry: Cheers.  Right after I do this one last thing….

(In the public-access Room of Requirement, Harry sits on the floor in front of the Mirror of Erised – his 11-year-old reflection is seated across from him, listening intently)

Harry: …and if someone had told me/you that mean old Snape actually was watching over us this whole time and could’ve been another father figure in our lives if he’d just gotten over his angst, I’d have said they were a filthy liar.

Reflection Harry: Wow.

Harry: Oh, and Ron’s little sister grows up to be HOT.

Reflection Harry: Ugh, gross!

Harry: (Chuckles into a butterbeer) Oh, child.

Reflection Harry: Will I get to be Head Boy in my seventh year?

Harry: (Almost chokes) Uh, no, that’s not much of a priority as time goes on.

Reflection Harry: Will I finally get to beat up Dudley?

Harry: (Tilts his head in thought) Eh, the Dudley issue… takes care of itself, in a sense.

Reflection Harry: What about putrid Aunt Petunia and vile Uncle Vernon?

Harry: No longer relevant.

Reflection Harry: Will I gain top marks in all my classes and be beloved by all?

Harry: Uhhhh….

Reflection Harry: Will I win every Quidditch match here and then the World Cup when I’m 18?

Harry: Quidditch is not a viable career option for us.

Reflection Harry: Will I vanquish all my enemies and seize power in the top echelons of the world’s ministries, both Magic and Muggle?!

Harry: Kid, hold up for a second!

Reflection Harry: Yes?

Harry: I’m going to give you the most important life lesson anyone can ever receive, even though you’re just a projection of my desire to return to an age when awesome adventures awaited me and hadn’t turned out horribly yet.

Reflection Harry: Yes?  What is this important life lesson, then?

Harry: (Takes another slug of the butterbeer) As you get older, life gets a whole lot weirder.

Story 240: The Magicrobat

“Come one, come all; step right up; don’t be shy; and any other version on the phrase ‘Get your butts over here’ you can think of, to witness the spectacular spectacle that is The Amazing Acrobatic Magician!”

            If she didn’t promote her own act, who would?

            “Welcome, friends.  You there, little boy in the front, thank you for volunteering!”

            “Uhhhh…?”

            “Here, have the quarter that’s been hiding behind your ear.  I’m kidding; no one wants to see that garbage when they can see this!”  She levitated the child several feet above the stage, circled him once over the crowd, and set him back down in his seat.  “Notice that my lips never moved!”

            She grabbed four hatchets from the floor and began juggling them extremely fast.  “Now, keep your eyes on each of these as I make them disappear one-by-one.”  Each one vanished in mid-toss.  “You, ma’am in the back row, what’s that in your oversized swag bag?”  The audience member pulled out four hatchets and dropped them in shock.  “Voila!  Nothing up my sleeves!”

            She grabbed a deck of cards out of thin air and flung all of them into the audience.  “OK everybody, pick a card!”  All 52 plus one Joker were picked up.  “Memorize it!  You got it?”  She pulled down a trapeze that was hanging nearby, flipped around on it a bit 50 feet in the air, and shouted down: “I’m going to finish with a triple-somersault and land on one foot atop that glass there – ” she pointed with her toe to the glass that had appeared center stage – “and when I have alit upon it, all of your cards will have returned to me.”  She did and they did.  She pulled one out of the deck and held it face out: “Is this your card?”

            “Yes!” One voice called out.

            “I thought so.”  She set some batons on fire.  “For my final trick – ”

            “Awwww,” the crowd groaned in disappointment.

            “Sweet.  For my final trick, I will be throwing these flaming projectiles into the air above us, creating a chemical reaction in the atmosphere that will transform these implements of destruction into a shower of roses that will cascade upon us.  Before I do so, does anyone here have seasonal allergies?”  Several hands raised.  “After this, you will be cured.”  She juggled the batons for another minute, throwing them higher each time and spinning around every so often just to show off, then vaulted them in the air and lay down on the stage for a quick nap as the flowers fell gently on everyone.  She was jolted awake by the thundering applause and $20 bills flung in her direction.

            “Thank you, good people, I do this all for you and your adoration!”

            She had three more shows that day, then off to the next state’s Renaissance Fair – truly, she was living the dream in entertaining the nerds.