Like Dorothy
Sometimes you cannot help but wish you were a character in a storybook…
There were many moments in time where he wished his life were a storybook instead of a misplaced reality. Where he, as the hero, could not die but instead be saved by some unknown force at the nick of time. His track record had been known for that already, but, as he stared at the fuming Potions’ master that stood before him with his hair discolored and his robe still fringed with the burn marks from his exploding cauldron, Harry couldn’t help but believe that this may be the end of The-Boy-Who-Lived.
But maybe… The green-eyed boy thought to himself. Harry racked his brain for some experiment that could prove his hypothesis of being a character from some storybook – it did make a lot of sense if it were true, him existing in a book, that is. Although there was really only one way to find out…
The mop haired boy turned his head to look down at the worn black shoes that he had purchased two summers ago. They were a nice pair of shoes, he admired, the best pair he had! Of course, it wasn’t much competition that the worn black leather shoes had, seeing how the only other pair that he owned were some extra large sneakers that Dudley had thrown out five years ago because he had punched a hole at the toe of the shoe.
Harry waggled his feet before tapping them together; a soft ‘click’ sound came from the meeting of the two shoes. Once, twice, and another time again did he brush the shoe together to one another, muttering the phrase “I wish I were home… I wish I were home…” under his breath with every click of his shoes.
Severus Snape glared his glare of doom at the no skill student of his and his peculiar behavior.
“Potter,” his dark voice sneered at him, eyes flaring. What in the world could that boy be doing? He wondered to himself, watching the clucking of the shoes as they meet each other with a noise.
Harry turned his up to his Professor then, a contemplative look on his face before realizing what he was doing wrong. Of course, why did he not remember this earlier? Dorothy would have been sorely disappointed in him. He shook his head, silently apologizing to the girl with the blue jumper.
“Professor…” Harry started, vaguely looking down at his very nice black shoes. “You wouldn’t happen to know the spell that makes your shoes turn red, do you?”