Bethesda

Henry had touched the magic; he had felt an abandoned chamber of his soul, reopened. He couldn’t believe he’d never felt it until now; it had always been there, just out of reach of the muggle boy he’d thought he was. As he stepped out of the wandshop, back onto the street, he was overwhelmed with a sense of possibility. This wasn’t a curse, but a gift, something to be cherished and used. Suddenly Henry was glad he was going to Hogwarts; he couldn’t wait a second more.  His wand’s aura, caged in its ash wood shell, pulsed with temptation, the world only an arm’s reach away.

            Henry saw a girl waving at him from across the cobblestone pavement—one of his friends from his old muggle school, Bethesda Abrams.

What on Earth is she doing here? Henry wondered skeptically. As Henry already knew, Bethesda Abrams had always been—and always will be—the most hopelessly desperate, senseless, uninspired girl in the entire world. But no one’s been known for their diligent efforts as much as poor Bethesda. She ran to where Henry was standing as fast as she could, nearly falling out of her shoes to find someone she knew. Her frizzy, vermillion hair bounced with every unintentionally exaggerated stride.

“Henry,” she gasped, struggling for breath, “I just saw you coming out of there.” Cough cough “And I wanted to” cough “say hi.” She was waving her hand like a lunatic, as if he couldn’t see her right in front of him. No use trying to pretend I don’t know her, Henry resigned, mourning his reputation.

“Hi, Bethy.” I am done for; no one will ever talk to me again, “I haven’t seen you since last term. What brings you here?”

“Same as everyone else: looking for supplies for school. I’m so nervous; I hear the Headmaster sometimes turns students into fish if they get on his nerves, and he keeps them all in a bowl in his office. You don’t think it’s true do you, Henry?” she begged franticly.  It’s going to be a long year.

*note that this content was not authorized by the author or publisher, and is simply from my imagination*