JK Rowling Is A Wizard

by Alex C. McDonald

  “Yes, I think he did?” said Jasper, who began taking pictures of the man.

  “What kind of a wand is that?” I said.

  “I don’t think that’s a wand, Sean. I think it’s a plumbing pipe, the kind plumbers use to connect sinks and stuff,” said Jasper.

  “Darius?” said a croaky old man’s voice from downstairs. “Have you sorted this yet? I turned off the power and can’t see a damn thing.”

  “There’s another one,” said Jasper whispering. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Darius? Darius? Did you hear me?”

  “Er, yes. All done,” said Jasper quickly.

  “Your voice sounds funny Darius? I’m coming up,” said the croaky voice from below.

  “Um, no not necessary, we’re fine here. How are you?” said Jasper looking at me cringing at what he had just said.

  “What? Who is that? Are you those two meddlesome picture takers? What have you done with Darius?”

  A slow thumping of a walking stick began coming up the staircase.

  “We need to get out of here, Jasper.”

  “There’s only one exit,” said Jasper.

  “The window?” I replied.

  “Well, I think it’s the best option,” said Jasper, who slammed the door of his apartment, locked it and then scooping up his suitcase ran for the window. He then pulled out his inhaler took a deep breath out of it and then didn’t take a moment to think and just leapt off. I was shocked as I heard screams and yells from the busy street below. I ran to the window and saw Jasper had leapt onto the awning of a street restaurant and people were helping him up. He looked back up at the window.

  “Jump!” said Jasper. We were only two floors up, but I wasn’t particularly fond of heights ever since John Robertson had pushed me off my school’s playground castle when I was 9 and broke my arm.

  “No, no, Jasper. Don’t think I will,” I said. There was a thumping knock on the door of Jasper’s apartment. I heard some kind of incantation being said from behind the door and slowly I watched as the keyhole began to turn and unlock the door.

  “He’s coming through the door Jasper!” I called down.

  “Sean, you’ve got to be brave and jump,” said Jasper.

  “Is everything all right boys?” said a random street observer. We were beginning to encourage a crowd.

  “No, it’s not,” said Jasper. “Tonight I filmed a crime taking place and the man who committed the crime is chasing us and trying to get into our apartment before I can get the footage to the police.”

  “What? You’ve got to jump, son,” said the man. Others too, who had heard Jasper’s ‘white lie’ began yelling encouragement to me. “We’ll catch you and somebody call the bleedin’ police.”

  The door to Jasper’s apartment flung open and in walked an elderly looking man using a walking stick to aid his step. He dressed as if he had come straight out of a time machine from the 1800’s. He had unkempt, wispy grey hair, a great-big, white moustache and his red-coat was well worn. He could have been mistaken for getting dressed up for a re-enactment of the Battle of Waterloo.

  He stopped when he saw me, visibly out of breath as if the climb up the stairs had been a great feat for him. My heart was pounding in fear as he eyed me up with exasperation. A black cat came slinking up from behind him and let out a sinister ‘meow’.

  “All right old-boy,” he said to me as he panted. “The jig is up, hand over the footage from tonight and we can all go away from this unharmed.”

  “Sorry, it wasn’t me that took it,” I said and then leapt out of the window. I felt like the world slowed for a moment as I glided further and further downwards and landed straight onto the same awning as Jasper. People clawed and grabbed at me as they helped me down safely to the street. Jasper then reached out and grabbed the scruff of my neck, pulling me towards him.

  “We’ve got to move,” said Jasper, briskly walking away. I followed him quickly as the onlookers looked a little confused as to our quick departure.

  “What about the wizard, shouldn’t we find cover in case he tries to perform some magic on us?” I said.

  “He won’t perform any magic with this many people about,” said Jasper.

  A bolt of lightning then shot through the sky and exploded straight in front of us, bursting a water pipe and causing water to spew high in the air, soaking us. People screamed in terror and began running away.

  “You were saying?” I said.

  At that moment police cars came screaming round the corner and into the street. Someone had called them and they were responding. Dozens of police officers jumped out of their cars and began running towards Jasper’s apartment.

  “Come on,” said Jasper. “This is our chance to escape.”

  We hailed a black cab and jumped in.

  “Victoria Station,” said Jasper to the taxi driver, then off he shot.

  We were safe…….for now.

  Chapter 7

  Home Sweet Home

  Where else would we go if we were wanting to hide, but Hampsteadshire. The village of our childhood and where my parents still lived.

  It had taken us about 5 hours by train, bus and then, eventually, Jasper hired a car to arrive in Hampsteadshire, but we had not exhausted our conversation on the pressing issue at hand. JK Rowling was a wizard or technically a witch (If we go by the Harry Potter gender based category). We had talked for hours, often repeating ourselves, with barely a moments silence on the issue. We had had long philosophical discussions about how many possible wizards there actually were in the United Kingdom and albeit the world. If there could be an actual wizarding and witchcraft school, like Hogwarts. What about magical creatures as well! Elves, goblins, phoenixes, giants, trolls and many, many more. Did they live amongst us? Who knew? We didn’t.

  Most importantly though, we re-watched the footage of Rowling casting the ‘lumos’ spell, several times. It was amazing. The great writer and literary genius was actually like one of the characters from her books!

  “Jasper? One interesting thing about those two wizards who chased us in London. They didn’t have wands,” I said.

  “True, that grim looking guy who ‘stupefied’ himself had a plumbing pipe,” said Jasper.

  “Yes, and I’m pretty sure the elderly gentlemen who tried to kill us with a lightning bolt used his walking stick,” I said.

  “Yes, that’s true, but remember Hagrid had an umbrella with a wand installed into it,” said Jasper.

  “That is true, but why would the first wizard use a plumbing pipe? I mean it was really inaccurate.”

  “I’m not sure, but one thing I can say is the further down the rabbit hole we go, the more answers we’ll get.”

  “Or more questions,” I said.

  “How very clichéd of you,” smirked Jasper.

  Hampsteadshire was a very typical looking English village. About one-thousand residents and five pubs. One pub for every two-hundred people and not all of them were of drinking age.

  Semi-detached houses were the norm on the streets of the village and my mother and father still lived in the house that I grew up in. Jasper pulled into the driveway and I wasn’t quick to get out, instead looking deeply at the grey walls.

  “Are you all right?” said Jasper.

  “I haven’t been home in about two years,” I said.

  “That’s some time away,” replied Jasper.

  There was my home that I had (up to now) spent the majority of my life living in. Its ordinariness made me think of how desperately I had tried to make my life ordinary in recent years. My whole teenage life and early adult life had been spent here at this home obsessing over Harry Potter. I was a mega Potter-Head.

  Until that one night, where my life was turned upside down.

  “Something’s just occurred to me Jasper,” I said.

  “What’s that, Sean?”

  “If this whole world is real, I mean this whole Harry Potter world is real. Wizards, witches and all that,
magic. If it’s actually real, then I never got my letter to Hogwarts just before my eleventh birthday. Which means that I’m a plain old muggle,” I said.

  “Wow, that is depressing,” said Jasper.

  “I mean, at best, I’m a squib,” I said.

  “You mean maybe your biological parents were wizards and witches?” said Jasper.

  “Maybe. I doubt it though, I’ve never felt anything magical.”

  I opened the door of the car and my foot made a soft crunching sound as it touched the driveway. It had been raining, like it normally did and the sky was grey. I felt depressed to be here.

  I knew my parents loved me, but despite their initial enthusiasm about me making friends through Harry Potter they became very patronizing about it in the later years, and were really relieved when I decided to pack it all in and go to university to study finance. So, I felt almost annoyed that we had chosen their house as our refuge after the single most life-affirming moment of my entire life, one which they had not supported.

  “Sean? Sean?” it was my mother opening the door, dressed in full-on baking clothes and covered in flour. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

  “Hello, mum, yes everything is fine,” I said.

  “Dad? Dad? Get out here, Sean’s here,” said my mum. My mother and father had always called each other mum and dad ever since they had adopted me. It was okay when I was a kid, but standing here as a grown adult it was kinda weird.

  “What’s the matter mum?” it was my dad. He too was dressed in an apron and covered in flour. The two of them had found their newest obsession. They were mega fans of the ‘Great British Bakeoff’ and were constantly baking. So much so that in their retirement years they basically spent all day baking and watching reruns of their favourite show.

  “Hi Dad,” I said. My mum strode up to me and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead, checking my temperature. She was always a worrier.

  “Doesn’t have a temperature, but I sense something is wrong. A mother always knows. Especially turning up here unannounced,” said Mum.

  “Look, Mum, nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Jasper’s here with me.”

  “Hello Mrs. Morris, Mr. Morris,” said Jasper getting out of his car.

  “Jasper?” said Mum. “Sean, I didn’t know you had rekindled your friendship with Jasper.”

  “We bumped into each other, actually only last night,” I said.

  “Listen, Jasper,” said Dad. “I was really sorry to hear about your parents.”

  “Oh, yes, thank you Mr. Morris,” said Jasper. My mum looked at my dad, as if cross at him for bringing that topic up.

  “Your parents?” I said. “What happened?”

  “They died Sean,” said Jasper. “Car accident. They were on their way to see me in London a good few months back, to help support me in opening a retail story about Harry Potter, but they never made it.”

  “Wow, Jasper, I’m sorry,” I said. A prang hit me in the heart. Jasper’s parents had always been very supportive of his Harry Potter obsession. Lucky bastard. I shouldn’t be so cruel, I know, but here we were standing at my mad bakeoff parent’s house, when we should be stood in front of Jasper’s parent’s house. We could have told them. Told them all about seeing JK Rowling perform a magical act. They were cool. They would have been completely on our side. But there was no way in the world we could turn around to my mad parents about it, they might try to bake us into a cake.

  “What is going on boys?” said Mum, clearing her throat.

  “Look, nothing Mum,” I said.

  “Do you need to go and see Doctor Brown?” Doctor Brown had been my psychologist when I was growing up. I didn’t really need to go and see him, but my mum made me go and would write down topics about adoption that I should discuss with him.

  “No, I don’t need to go and see Doctor Brown,” I said.

  “Is it because you were an orphan?” said Mum. I rolled my eyes.

  “No, Mum, it wasn’t because I was an orphan,” I said.

  “Dad, we should get the umbrella out,” said Mum.

  “What? No, we don’t need the umbrella,” I said.

  “You mean the umbrella your biological mother left with you when she abandoned you at the hospital?” said Jasper, sniggering a little. Wow, I had just learnt about his parents dying and he was being a dick. Although, he obviously remembered how much I hated the umbrella. My parents used it during family meetings and whomever was holding it was the one who could talk. My mother normally blamed me being an orphan if I ever had problems.

  “I think it’s under the stairs,” said Dad.

  “Come on dear, come in,” said Mum. “I’ve got cake ready to eat.”

  She started pulling me into the house.

  “Oh well, maybe I should look for some accommodation in the village,” I said.

  “What? Nonsense, this is your house, Sean. Just because we’re your adopted parents doesn’t mean we keep things separate from you,” said Mum.

  “Okay, bye Sean,” said Jasper sniggering.

  “Bye Jasper,” I said.

  “Oh no, maybe Jasper should come and stay too?” said Dad. My mum stopped and looked at him really stroppily.

  “Remember the ‘H P’ obsession, stop encouraging this,” said my mum through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, but Jasper is orphaned too now. Maybe it will help Sean?” said Dad.

  “Okay, but if you’re wrong we’re making an appointment with Doctor Brown,” said Mum. “Come on Jasper. You’re an orphan too now and I think you need to talk.”

  “Um, but-” I said.

  “No buts, get in here.”

  ***

  So there we were, amongst the flour, butter, cream, eggs, dirty bowls and spoons. Cake and cake mix was everywhere. My mum placed two huge pieces of chocolate cake in front of us and dished out a big dollop of cream on top of them.

  “There we are. Fresh out of the oven,” she said.

  “So, are you expecting guests or something?” said Jasper, looking around at the mountains of cake.

  “We just love baking,” said Mum, taking a seat at the table. “It’s good to have you home Sean, so you can try some of our cake.

  “Do you eat it all?” I said. My mum and dad burst out laughing.

  “No, we try though,” said Dad, patting his belly.

  “What do you do with all the leftovers then?” I said.

  “Well, we used to go and feed it to the ducks at the park, but we got in trouble with the council as the pond was beginning to fill up with cake,” said Dad. “So, mostly we just throw it in the garbage.”

  “Oh, landfill then,” said Jasper.

  “Okay, enough talk about us and cake. They’ll be plenty of that later. Dad, pass the umbrella to Sean,” said Mum.

  I took the umbrella reluctantly. The cover of the umbrella had a couple of holes in it and it felt a little rickety, like it was about to fall apart. I had hated this umbrella in my teenage years. I hated how my parents always made me sit around at family meetings and talk about my feelings. Sometimes, I just didn’t want to talk about my feelings, as they were mostly not heard by my parents.

  The last time I held this umbrella was the family meeting after I had been mugged and beaten, after Jasper and I raised our initial seed money for our Harry Potter fan venture. That night I felt broken, but the worst part was when I told my parents I was giving up on Harry Potter and going to university to study finance, they had embraced me and told me I was making ‘the right decision’. I had sobbed and nodded. The rest is history.

  “Come on Sean,” said Mum. “Tell us what is going on?”

  I looked across the table at Jasper, he stared at me. I could see he was wondering if I was going to tell them about JK. He looked down and took a big scoop of chocolate cake with his fork .

  “I lost my job,” I said.

  “Oh Sean, that’s awful,” said Mum. Jasper raised his eyebrow at me as he chewed on his cake, as if s
aying ‘You’re not going to tell them about JK Rowling?’

  “What happened?” asked Mum.

  I went on to tell them all about Gary and Penny, losing my job and how I had met Jasper. Then I lied about the rest and left out the encounter with the wizards. I simply said Jasper suggested coming here. My mum and dad thought that was really sweet and promised to bake Jasper a 3 layered cream-cake in his honour.

  I was exhausted when it got to the evening, having not slept the night before. We had helped my parents clean up their mountainous baking mess and then headed up to my room.

  It was exactly as I had left it. Completely Pottered-out. I set up a fold out bed next to mine for Jasper and we both lay down.

  “Well good night Sean,” said Dad. “Good night Jasper.”

  “Yes, good night boys. You know we really should have thrown all of your Harry Potter stuff out,” said Mum.

  “I’ll take it,” said Jasper.

  “I like my room, just the way it is. And I think I still like Harry Potter. You know Jasper has made a mint out of his Harry Potter merchandise business. I wish you had encouraged me to keep at my dream instead of telling me I should go to university,” I said.

  “Well that’s nice that Jasper has done that dear, but you went on a different path and you should keep to it. You’ll bounce back, dear, don’t worry,”said Mum and she turned off the big light and walked out , as if we were children again. That made me feel really annoyed.

  “Why didn’t you tell your parents about the wizards, Sean?” said Jasper.

  “They never would have understood,” I said. “You know how they were with my Harry Potter obsession. Me going off to uni was a huge relief for them. It wasn’t worth it.”

  “They’re your parents Sean, you should have at least tried,” said Jasper.

  “You didn’t say anything,” I said.

  “It wasn’t my place to,” said Jasper. We paused in silence for a moment.

  “What now?” I said.

  “Sleep,” said Jasper, he then reached over and turned off my bedside table light.

  Chapter 8