The Fair sounds were rising as the day wore on, since the visitors were discovering everything that was available for them. There was a group of boys standing in a group cheering on a group of Potter-Heads, who were competing to see if anyone could make an exact, functioning, Firebolt.
‘I did it!’ cried a boy with a bright yellow lightening bolt scar painted on his forehead, ‘I made the Firebolt! I AM HARRY POTTER!!’
The other boys around him stopped what they were doing and just stared, their mouths agape.
‘How could you make a Firebolt?!’ sneered a boy with his lightening bolt “scar” obviously wearing off, ‘you couldn’t even cast a minor lamp spell in class last week!’
He snickered as his miniature gang came up to support him.
‘You cheated!’ ‘You’re a filthy little liar!’ ‘You eat bugs!’yelled the gang members.
The little boy simply sniffed, stood up a little straighter, and said ‘I AM Harry Potter. That is my name, and all who shall ever challenge me will pay most dearly, with either their lives, their lunch money, or their Harry Potter collections.’ He crossed his arms, satisfied that he had made a good speech. ‘Oh yeah, Bradley, I do NOT eat bugs! That was a one time thing. And anyway, it was on a dare. HA! you have nothing to say to the great HARRY POTTER! Do you…?’ He raised his arms in triumph and glared at the boys triumphantly as his oppressors stood in compete shock at what he had just said.
This was how little Carl Watson conquered the bullies at his school. They became best of friends after Carl finally stood up to them. As it turned out, the boys were just envious of Carl’s knowledge of Harry Potter.
THE END.
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