JK Rowling Is A Wizard

by Alex C. McDonald

  “Dealt with us?” said Beryl.

  “Yes, but sadly for you this really is the end of the road,” said JK Rowling and she pulled out a wand from a pocket in her coat and aimed it at us.

  “A magic wand,” I said, taking a step backwards.

  “Correct. And as you know only true wizards are granted a wand. The most powerful of all wizards and only those wizards or witches deserve to know magic. Witches like me,” said JK Rowling who had now backed us completely out onto the street, pointing her wand directly at me.

  “And witches like me,” said a voice from the side of us.

  “Emma Watson?” said Beryl. Out of the shadows came the beautiful figure of Emma Watson, the woman who had played Hermione Granger. Dressed in a fashionable trench coat and pants. She too was holding a wand.

  “And wizards like me,” said another voice from behind us.

  “Rupert Grint?” I said turning around to see a casually dressed Rupert Grint, the man who had played Ron Weasley.

  “And wizards like me,” said another voice.

  “You have got to be kidding me! Daniel Radcliffe?” said Beryl. As a smartly dressed Daniel Radcliffe in a suit and tie appeared.

  “Call me Harry,” said Daniel.

  “Really? You want to be called Harry?” said Beryl.

  “Yes, it suits me better,” said Daniel or was it Harry?

  “It doesn’t really, I mean your name is Daniel, you just played Harry in the movies,” said Rupert.

  “Look, can we not do this now. I’ve waited for this moment for years to actually use my magic to defeat some bad wizards,” said Daniel.

  “Well, technically, if you want to be called Harry than this really isn’t your first rodeo,” I said.

  “Enough,” said JK Rowling. “Your surrounded and outnumbered by real wizards, mudbloods.”

  “Mudbloods?” said Beryl and I together. We were both incredibly insulted.

  “Yes, anyone can learn a bit of magic, but no one can know magic like true wizards and witches, those granted the power of wands,” said JK Rowling. “And now it’s time for us to finally end your reign of terror. We should never have allowed it to get this far.”

  “Ready?” said Emma.

  “Ready,” they all said.

  “Finite Incantatem,” whispered Beryl.

  “What?” I said.

  “Obliviate!” said all four of the wizards and witches surrounding us. I couldn’t think of a counter spell or an attacking charm to protect us as I was so in shock at seeing the four celebrities reveal themselves as real craftsmen of magic. The spell hit me like thunder, my body jolted as it took the full impact of the memory charm that had been directed at me. I fell to the ground. My mind desperately tried to fight the impact of the spell, I felt like I was winning. I wouldn’t forget, I wouldn’t forget I kept saying to myself. The magic, though, was writhing through my body. I could feel the pressure growing, my head felt light.

  “I won’t forget,” I croaked.

  I felt like I was beginning to drift out of consciousness as I looked up and saw four of my heroes standing over me.

  “Mudblood,” said Rupert and he kicked me square in the stomach. I couldn’t hold on to it anymore and passed out.

  Chapter 29

  Wake Up Time

  Oh I felt dreadful, disgusting, drained, but I was alive…..I think?

  Slowly, I opened my eyes. I was in a very bright room, so it was hard to focus. I felt like I hadn’t opened my eyes in a very long time. I took a deep breath, it felt a little painful, but not terrible. Though I did feel a little choked up.

  “He’s awake,” said the voice of my mum (My ‘real mum’ not my biological one). “Dad he’s awake.”

  “Sean? Are you all right?” said Dad.

  “Um, yeah, I am. Can you pass me some water?” I said.

  “Certainly,” said Dad, who poured me a glass of water from a jug and passed it to me. I drank it down pretty eagerly.

  “More,” I said, my dad quickly obliged. I sipped on the new glass.

  “Where am I?” I said.

  “Hampsteadshire Hospital,” said Mum. It was weird seeing my parents here. I hadn’t seen them in well over a year since that night in Scotland when I found them at the hospital where my biological mother had died.

  “Hampsteadshire Hospital?” I said. How had I gotten from London to Hampsteadshire? “Where’s Beryl?”

  “Who?” said Mum.

  “Beryl, Mum, is Beryl here?” I said.

  “Do you mean Beryl Winter?” said dad.

  “Yes.”

  “That friend you thought you had back in school?” said Mum.

  “Yes, but she’s my girlfriend as well now,” I said.

  “I think the medication must still be having an effect on him,” said Dad. “Do you know what year it is Sean?”

  “What year? Yes, its two thousand- wait. What year do you think I think it is?” I said.

  “He’s in shock. Just take your time dear,” said Mum.

  “What’s happened? Why am I here? I mean we haven’t seen each other for over a year and here I am in Hampsteadshire, how did I get here?” I said.

  “Sean, I-” said Dad.

  “No, Dad, don’t tell him. Just let him come too, he’s obviously still not right,” said Mum.

  “Don’t tell me what? Tell me,” I said. Mum and Dad looked at each other with concern, my dad shrugged and then my mum seemed to cave, giving my dad permission to talk.

  “You’ve been here for a few days, son. You overdosed on your medication that Doctor Brown had prescribed to you. You almost died, son. The doctors had to pump your stomach,” said Dad.

  “What? Overdose? Are you kidding me? I was just in London with Beryl and JK Rowling and Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint, he kicked me in the stomach,” I said.

  “Who kicked you in the stomach?” said Mum indignantly, as if she was about to go rushing out and have a word with Rupert Grint.

  “Dad, I’m a wizard, remember?” I said. My dad looked at me confused.

  “You were babbling a lot about that this morning, son. Look, Doctor Brown is going to see you soon, we’ve contacted him and he agreed to come as soon as you wake up,” said Dad.

  “What about my mother though, I mean my biological mother. You were there at the hospital in Scotland, she was dying, in fact, she died. You had been keeping her from me,” I said.

  “See, I knew. This is all about him being adopted. We need the umbrella,” said Mum.

  “Yes, we do, we do need the umbrella. Where is the umbrella?” I said eagerly wanting to be reunited with my magical object.

  “It’s at home, I’ll go and fetch it if you like and bring back some chocolate cake too,” said Mum.

  “Great, in fact, I’ll come with you,” I said.

  “Now settle down Sean, settle down Mum,” said Dad. “We don’t need any umbrella to talk.”

  “We do though,” I said.

  “No, we don’t. Look we never told you about your real mum,” said Dad.

  “I’m his real mum, thank you very much,” said Mum.

  “Yes, of course, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is his biological mother,” said Dad.

  “It’s okay, I know all about it. She’s a witch or wizard. There’s no gender stereotyping in the magical world,” I said.

  “You mother was a drug addict,” said Dad. “And died of a drug overdose soon after you were born.”

  “What?” I said. “You’re lying.”

  “No, Sean, that’s the truth. Now like we’ve said for many years, it’s great that you’re into Harry Potter, but it’s not real and if you could please just listen. You’ve been going through this ever since you lost your job in London and that guy you worked with. What was his name?” said Dad.

  “Gary?” said Mum, as if she knew the story well.

  “That’s right, Gary, became rich after he stole that merger deal from you,” said Dad.

  �
�What?” I said, sitting up straight. I quickly lifted up my shirt to look at my stomach for stab wounds or scars. There was nothing there. I could feel a panic building inside me.

  “Look Sean, I think you need to rest,” said Dad.

  “This is not right, she did this,” I said.

  “Who?” said Mum.

  “Rowling, she did it. She’s oblivaited everyone’s memory, but not mine. No, not mine, because Beryl said that counter spell, just before they tried to obliviate our memory on Downing Street. That’s why I remember,” I said. “I don’t know how she got rid of the stab wounds though.”

  “What are you talking about Sean, Downing Street? You haven’t been to London for over two years?” said Mum.

  “That’s rubbish, Mum, and you know it,” I said. “What exactly have I been doing for two years then?”

  “Well to be quite honest you’ve been going bloody mad,” said Mum.

  “Mum, you shouldn’t say that,” said Dad.

  “Why not? He has been and this is the last straw talking about memories being obliviated, he’s going bloody mad. You need to calm down, Sean and wake up,” said Mum.

  “Yes, Sean, you got really depressed. You just showed up at our door a couple of years ago and have been in therapy since,” said Dad.

  “Was I with Jasper?” I said.

  “Jasper?”

  “Yes, when I showed up at your house. Did Jasper bring me?” I said.

  “No, you showed up in an Uber,” said Dad.

  “What?” I said.

  “Yeah, you said you had been to a JK Rowling signing event the night before and that it had made you thoroughly depressed and it’s been downhill from there,” said Dad.

  “No, no, I don’t believe you,” I said, the panic was accelerating inside of me. I could feel my heart beating fast. “This is rubbish.”

  I jumped out of my bed and ran for the door. I was only wearing a generic hospital gown, but I needed to get out there. Something wasn’t right, everyone was being conned. I needed to get to my umbrella. I dashed out of the room and began running clumsily down the hospital hallway. I knocked over a few tables and frightened a few people, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t real!

  “Sean, come back. Help us someone!” shouted Mum. A well-built male nurse saw me running and chased after me. He tackled me to the ground and was soon joined by some of his colleagues who held me down.

  “No! No! This is not real, you’ve all been had,” I screamed. The nurses looked at each other and seemed to come to some sort of agreement as I wasn’t settling down.

  “Settle down, Sean. It will all be okay soon,” said the big male nurse.

  “No, no. You don’t understand, she’s in control of the UK. You need to let me go!” I said. Suddenly a syringe appeared and they injected me, sedating me.

  Chapter 30

  The Calm After the Storm

  “This is all in your head, Sean,” said Doctor Brown.

  “It’s not Doctor, it was all real,” I said. I felt so small sat on the worn couch in the drab office of Doctor Brown. My parents had taken me to see him as a child and I felt ridiculous being here as an adult.

  “You’ve been seeing me for almost two years, Sean,” said Doctor Brown.

  “So, everyone keeps telling me, but I know it’s not true,” I said.

  “You’ve stopped taking your medication,” said Doctor Brown.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Are you sure you don’t need it?”

  “Yes, I’m sure, I don’t. I have never needed it.”

  “I’m afraid to tell you, but you’re suffering from severe psychosis,” said Doctor Brown.

  “I’m not Doctor, I’m really, really not. You’re a part of this too,” I said. “Part of this whole elaborate scheme to make me feel crazy, but I’m not Doctor, I’m not.”

  “Sean, do you want to get out of here?” said Doctor Brown.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re going to need to start taking your medication,” said Doctor Brown. I paused for a moment. I was not going to be allowed to leave the hospital unless I took the medication. Talking to him wasn’t going to help, I needed to play along. I nodded. “Good, I’m going to prescribe to you an increased dose of anti-psychotic medication.”

  ***

  I lied and pretended to take my medication. When asked how I felt, I said I was feeling better and that I was beginning to see that I was having a severe psychotic episode. Then my mum brought in the umbrella, she wasn’t supposed to leave it with me, hospital rules for patients like me, in case I use it for a weapon on myself or others. However, my mum broke the rules and left it for me, because I said it gave me some comfort.

  I had to hide my sheer excitement at seeing my magical object placed in front of me and waited till night time when no one was around. I secretly took the umbrella out.

  “Solas,” I said remembering the simple spell from my father’s book of spells. Nothing happened. “Lumos.” Still nothing.

  I tried spell after spell after spell.

  Nothing.

  I was delusional.

  A nurse walked into my room. He was shocked to see me up out of bed.

  “Hello Sean, what are you doing out of bed?” said the nurse.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “What are you doing with that umbrella?” said the nurse.

  “Oh this? It was a sentimental object from my childhood that my mother left with me today,” I said.

  “Well that’s nice, but you’re not allowed things like this on this ward,” said the nurse.

  “Right, of course,” I said, handing it to the nurse.

  “Thank you Sean. I’ll keep it safe for you though,” said the nurse, smiling. He played with the umbrella for a little while testing its springs if it still works. I smiled back at him, until I noticed something peculiar. There was only one hole in the umbrella.

  “There’s only one hole in that umbrella,” I said.

  “Oh yes, I see,” said the nurse. “Not much use of an umbrella if there’s a hole in it.”

  “No, you don’t understand. There’s supposed to be two holes in it. That’s not my umbrella,” I said.

  “Two holes? Well that would be even worse,” said the nurse.

  “You’re really not getting it at all, are you? This is all a trick; my umbrella’s been replaced! I need to get out of here!” I said and ran for the door. The nurse immediately dropped the umbrella and ran after me rugby tackling me to the ground. “No! I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here.”

  Other nurses came and they injected me with a strong sedative, again.

  ***

  They soon found out that I wasn’t taking my medication and they began forcing me to take to it. Rounds and rounds of meetings with Doctor Brown. Over and over again. The days went by, my mind went by, and I began to question it all.

  “I need to speak to Beryl,” I pleaded, over and over again, but it was denied. Doctor Brown was concerned about my interaction with her. So, he prescribed more medication, more therapy, more and more until I was beginning to believe or possibly even realize that I had made all of this up and I truly was mad.

  “Do you still want to see Beryl?” said Doctor Brown during a session after weeks of therapy and medication. We were sat in his drab office and I stared out his office window to a dreary, rainy day.

  “No,” I said.

  “And how are you feeling?” said Doctor Brown.

  “Good,” I said.

  “Really?” said Doctor Brown. “You’ve never said that before.”

  “I want to go home,” I said.

  “Home? Do you mean home to your parents or home to pursue finding people that do magic?” said Doctor Brown.

  “Look, Doctor, I just want to pick up the pieces. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here in this hospital. I want to work,” I said.

  “Really, what would you like to do?” said Doctor Brown.

  “Anything
right now. I’ll sweep the streets if I have to. Anything’s better than this. I’m ready to leave,” I said.

  “You’ve been ready to leave before, but you’ve wanted to chase JK Rowling and expose her for the evil sorceress she truly is,” said Doctor Brown.

  “Yes, that is true. But not anymore, I just want to go home and work. Go to the supermarket and cook or something. Do some normal things,” I said.

  “This is good. But I have my concerns,” said Doctor Brown.

  “I know you will. And the truth is that it still all seems so real to me, but I can’t keep living that nightmare, and this nightmare, here in this hospital. I want to move on and realise that it was all just a delusion,” I said.

  It didn’t take long and a couple more sessions like that and Doctor Brown gave me the okay to be discharged from the hospital.

  My parents picked me up and took me home. My mother took me up to my bedroom and opened the door.

  “We thought we’d give it a bit of a fresh new look,” said Mum, as I peered into my bedroom. They had completely redecorated. Nothing remained of Harry Potter. There was just rigid white furniture everywhere.

  “It’s nice, Mum,” I said.

  We ate a roast dinner together that my mother painstakingly prepared, followed, of course, by a big elaborate chocolate cake. We finished early and were in bed by nine. I wished my parents good night and crawled into the fresh new bed and waited. I wasn’t going to go to sleep.

  I could hear nothing, so I peered out of my bedroom door and could hear snores coming from my parent’s bedroom. They were fast asleep. So, I crept downstairs, slowly. Carefully, I opened the cupboard door under the stairs where the umbrella had always been kept. I grabbed the black umbrella, but it was the same fake one I had been given at the hospital. I didn’t feel the need to rummage further as I felt like my umbrella would have long been disposed of.

  There was something much more pressing in my mind, Beryl.

  I quickly opened up my dad’s laptop. It felt like so much time had passed when it finally booted up.

  I googled ‘Beryl Winters PHD’.