Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts

Thursday, January 5, 2023

Story 473: When the Child You Raise Is You

(In a tiny apartment, Parent Self is stirring a pot of stew on the stove while loud music is blaring in the background)

Parent Self: You know, it hasn’t been easy.  You try to teach yourself right; you tell yourself, “This is what you have to do to get somewhere in life; this is what you need to sacrifice; this is how hard you have to work to make something of yourself.”  And, it’s as if I haven’t said a single word.  To myself.

Child Self: (Slumps in from the living room, appearing exactly the same as Parent Self but much shabbier) Oh hey – (Gestures to the pot) don’t bother with that; already ordered takeout.

Parent Self: (Stares at Child Self) This stew is extremely better for us than takeout.

Child Self: I know, but that’s also, you know, work.  Pay someone else to do it.  (Slumps back into the living room)

Parent Self: (Sighs as the pot disappears) I sometimes wonder why I still bother trying.

(That evening, Child Self is sprawled across the living room couch watching a movie and eating messily from a takeout container when Parent Self starts vacuuming)

Child Self: (With mouth full, pausing the video) Do you have to do that now?!

Parent Self: (Shuts off the vacuum cleaner; says sweetly) I’m sorry, was I interrupting something important?

Child Self: (Sheepishly) No….

Parent Self: Well then.  (Resumes vacuuming)

Child Self: But why now?!

Parent Self: (Turns off the vacuum again) The time scheduled to clean this place appears to be “Never,” so “Now” is as good a time as any at this point.

Child Self: I was gonna get around to it!  Eventually!

Parent Self: (Nods) Yeah, that method tends to result in you actually doing the chore, or project, or promise an average of two years after the thought first enters our head.  (Sets aside the vacuum cleaner and begins wiping dust off everything)

Child Self: (Grumbles while fumbling with the video controls) Nag.

Parent Self: (Whirls around) Excuse me?!

Child Self: Your expectations for our behavior are ridiculously high!  We actually work at an actual job all day, and commute almost an hour each way surrounded by horrible horribles, so when we finally do get home from that soul-sucking experience, I wanna relax!  It’s only fair – what more do you want from our life?!

Parent Self: Listen: I didn’t bust our butt through all those years of school and all those extracurricular activities trying to make some kind of a success of our life, just to watch you spectacularly fail to launch ever since and instead spend hours and hours uselessly prone upon the couch watching drivel and eating garbage!

Child Self: Well, what else am I supposed to do 9:00 at night?!

Parent Self: …Find the cure to cancer!  (Begins vacuuming again as Child Self rolls eyes and resumes the video)

(At a restaurant, Child Self and Parent Self sit at a table across from Date)

Date: So, I had a great time tonight!  This was fun; I haven’t gone out on one of these in a long while.

Child Self: Me neither; guess life got in the way, huh?

Parent Self: (Turns slightly away) Hmf!

Child Self: (Mutters) What was that?

Parent Self: Oh, nothing.  Just mildly surprised to hear the implication that we’ve been too busy for something, that’s all.

Server: (Places the bill on the middle of the table) Whenever you’re ready, but we close in 20 minutes.  (Immediately leaves)

Parent Self: (Snatches the bill) Now let’s see what we can’t afford tonight….

Child Self: (Snatches the bill and addresses Date) Actually, I was thinking just for tonight we could split it –

Parent Self: (Snatches the bill back) Actually, you know better that since we were the one who invited this charming individual out tonight, we should be the one to pay the entire bill.

Child Self: (Tries to snatch the bill back but Parent Self holds on this time; they begin to tug-of-war it) It was a mutual ask-out, not an invite, and we can’t exactly pay the entire bill right now!

Parent Self: Well maybe that wouldn’t be an issue if you hadn’t kept ordering things we don’t need!

Date: It’s OK, I don’t mind treating you to dinner tonight –

Parent and Child Self: You stay out of this!

Date: (Blows air through cheeks, takes out a wallet, and places money on the table as the others’ struggle continues) Here: this should cover the tip; thanks for dinner and see you – whenever.  (Hustles out the door)

Child Self: (As both let the bill drop onto the table) Oh.  I think we just got dumped before we were even officially dating.

Parent Self: Sounds about par for our course.

(Back at the apartment on a weeknight, Parent Self is folding laundry while sitting on the couch next to Child Self; the latter is sprawled out again while scrolling through a phone, forever falling down the Internet rabbit hole)

Parent Self: I try, and I try – and I really don’t like what we’ve become.

Child Self: (Laughs hysterically at the screen) Genius!  Another dopamine rush to the brain – whoosh!  (To Parent Self) Oh, you can just throw all that stuff in the closet – just gonna wear `em out again anyway, what’s the point?

Parent Self: (As the laundry basket disappears) I was thinking it would be a good idea to take up running again, maybe early in the morning or after work, like when we did track in high school?

Child Self: (Thinks for a few moments) Yeah, those were fun times; we were in the best shape of our life then.

Parent Self: Yes.  Yes we were.

Child Self: (Thinks for a few seconds more, then turns off the phone) Nah: don’t feel like it; too much effort.  Sleepy now.  (Rolls over and falls asleep)

Parent Self: (Stares at Child Self) The struggle is ongoing, but a parent never gives up on a child.  Even when that child is yourself.

Thursday, October 20, 2022

Story 462: Campfire Tale of Horror

(Around the evening campfire, Counselor and five Children sit on logs roasting marshmallows)

Child 1: I had so much fun today, it’s gonna be hard falling asleep tonight!

Counselor: Well, it’s a good thing tomorrow’s Sunday then, so you all have a day to recover at home before back to school on Monday.

Child 2: School, ugh!

Children 1-5: Uggghhhh!!!

Counselor: Ingrates.  (Tests a marshmallow with fingertips, then passes around chocolate and crackers for everyone to make s’mores) So!  Since it’s almost Halloween and we’re in the proper setting, would you like to hear a… serious and heartfelt story?

Children 1-5: (All shake their heads and laugh) Nooo!!!

Child 3: We want to hear a scary story!

Counselor: Ah, of course.  (Hastily finishes off the s’more) OK then, what should it be about?  Witches?  Werewolves?  Vampires?  Mummies?  Zombies?  (The Children shake their heads on each one) I’m running out of the classics here, kids.

Child 4: Those are all overdone – we want something really scary!

Child 5: Yeah, something that’ll give us nightmares!

Counselor: You may regret that….

Children 1-5: (Cheering over each other) Tell us a scary story!  Make us scream!  Haunt our dreams!

Counselor: Fine, fine!  If you insist.  (Wipes messy hands and leans forward; Children do likewise) This is a tale to freeze the blood, chill the heart, and send shivers down the spine – good thing we’re all sitting around a nice hot fire, right?

Child 1: Not to be rude, but this sounds like it’s going to be one of those tales that really aren’t that scary anymore.

Counselor: (Gets a devilish look) Oh, just you wait.  I call this –

 THE TALE OF THE UNSTOPPABLE LIFE CHANGES

             Children 1-5: …What?!

            Counselor: Don’t interrupt.

 Narrator: Once upon a time, there was a child, right around your age, who loved life, and was loved by life….

(In black-and-white overtones, Child (who looks like a younger version of Counselor) is skipping down a residential sidewalk in glee)

Child: (Smiling as wide as humanly possible) La, la, la, la, la….

Narrator: Not a care in the world, and knew that all was well and would always be well.  Until, one day –

(The robed figure of Adulthood jumps out from the nearby hedges)

Adulthood: Ta-da!

Child: (Stops skipping, but smile never falters) Why, hello!  And who might you be?

Adulthood: Your future, kid.

Child: Why, whatever could you mean?  I feel so grand about all things all the time, and you look terrible!

Adulthood: Life’ll do that to ya – mind if I sit down?  (Points to a nearby bench)  That surprise entrance did my knees and lungs no favors.

Child: But of course!  Do you also need to lean upon my youthful shoulder?

Adulthood: Not yet, but don’t wander off, either.  (Staggers over to the bench and collapses on it; Child follows and stands nearby)

Child: Do you need a glass of water and a pillow, oh Elder One?

Adulthood: (Wipes sweat from forehead) No!  Now listen up: you’ve had a good run; you were extremely lucky in having a loving family and living in comfortable, healthy surroundings; but all that’s done and it’s time for you to pupate into the horrors of puberty to reach your final destination of end-stage adult.

Child: (Still smiling; blinks once) I don’t follow.

Adulthood: Now, I’m not saying that I’m what you’re going to turn into, but judging by your parents, peers, and current trajectory, it’s pretty likely.  Scratch that: almost guaranteed.

Child: I know this sounds cold and disrespectful, but you appear to be an absolute failure.

Adulthood: In one.

Child: Then how could I possibly resemble you in any way once I have emerged from my glorious life cocoon?  I’m getting such good grades in school, and have such great friends, and I’m doing so well in basketball, and I just made finals in our geography tournament this year –

Adulthood: Kid.

Child: Yes?

Adulthood: I’m torn on whether to laugh or cry right now – either of which, I assure you, would be done most hysterically.

Child: Whyever is that?

Adulthood: At the end of the day, all your grades and activities and school-age achievements will mean bupkis: your success or failure in life will depend primarily on who you know, being in the right place at the right time, and putting in exorbitantly much more work than the person next to you.

Child: (Turns to the empty space next to both of them, then back to Adulthood; smile starts to falter) Huh?

Adulthood: And even if you’re lucky enough to be what this society deems “a success,” you’ll never be able to enjoy it: if the stress doesn’t destroy you, your neglect of your family if they still speak to you, any friends you might have left, life partner if you snag one, and/or any actual kids of your own, and their resentment of you in turn, will make you wonder why on Earth anybody does anything.

Child: (Smile fades further) What?

Adulthood: Oh, speaking of kids: your body’s going to start all those lovely life changes soon so you’ll be able to pop out another version of yourself, at least in theory; even if you don’t wind up going through with it, doesn’t matter, hormones and body transformation’re on their way, so kiss your last moments of unblemished happiness good-bye, `cause you are never getting them back.

Child: (Starting to whimper) Umm….

Adulthood: But, as much as you’re going to dislike your new form with its useless excess hair and pimples and glands that seem to do more harm than good, you’d better take special care of it with healthy food, regular exercise, a full night’s sleep, and regular doctor check-ups, or else your eventual “golden” years will be absolute torture, with no reprieve except the final one, and who would actually want to wish for that?!

Child: (Begins to cry) Why are you saying all these mean things?

Adulthood: They’re not mean, they’re just true.  At least now you’re prepared, right?  (Stands as Child cries harder) Oh, almost forgot: everything that is so much fun for you right now, all your joys and pleasures and good times, will slowly, inexorably, one-by-one, become… BORING.

Child: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Children 1-5: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Camp Director: (Jogs over to the group as Children 1-5 stop screaming) What is going on here?!  Is anyone hurt?!

Counselor: Oh no, just telling them a spooky story, no big deal, right, kids?

Camp Director: (Sees Children 1-5 nodding with wide eyes and shivering) Must’ve been a doozy.  All right, everyone come back to your tents, it’s bedtime! 

(They shakily gathering their belongings; Counselor wiggles both arms in a mock scare at them, making them laugh in relief as they walk back to their tents with Camp Director.  Counselor chuckles a bit before turning back to extinguish the fire and clean up the site.  Suddenly, a twig snaps; Counselor freezes, sensing there are others nearby, waiting.  Feeling a chill, Counselor slowly turns around to face the surrounding woods.  Standing at the tree line, not 10 feet away, are a Witch, a Werewolf, a Vampire, a Mummy, and a Zombie)

Counselor: (Gulps) Ummm….

Vampire: (Steps forward cautiously) On behalf of my fellows, we wanted to know: that was only a story to scare the children, yes?

Counselor: …Ye-es, only a story, all in the spirit of the season.

(The others visibly relax and laugh in relief)

Mummy: Oh good, we were worried for a moment there that it was true!

Zombie: Or at the very least, a petrifying allegory!

Witch: That would have been a real horror, let me tell you!

(They all cackle uproariously; Counselor forces out a few laughs, and they all wave farewell as the group turns back to the woods.  Counselor shakily turns back to finish cleaning up and is met by Werewolf, who instantly appears opposite from where the rest of the group had been)

Werewolf: (Speaking in a growl) I must say, even though that was all made-up, you humans sure are a scary bunch!

Counselor: (Laughs nervously very loudly, then suddenly sobers and looks inwardly) That we are.

Thursday, January 13, 2022

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

 [Inspired by the 20th 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.