Authors: Benjamin James Barnard
Tags: #magic, #owl, #moon, #tree, #stars, #potter, #christmas, #muggle, #candy, #sweets, #presents, #holiday, #fiction, #children, #xmas
My grandmother was the only one who knew the truth, and even she remained more critical than congratulatory.
“Why on earth did you send that evil creature, Blackheart back to Roobatzi? Why didn’t you send him to the Arctic Circle, or the moon, or the centre of a volcano? You’ve just given him a free trip home. You’re only going to have to face him again now, you know that don’t you? Only this time he will be better prepared, as will The Professor.”
She was right, of course. It seemed the women in my life usually were. And at the time I was devastated that my own stupidity had served to make my life harder, and possibly even cost the lives of others. In hindsight though, I feel I should have been less hard on myself. There had, after all, been no time for prolonged procrastination over where to open a portal to; the decision had been entirely instinctual, and it is perhaps no bad thing that, as an eight year old boy who was the last best hope for the future of peace between the humans and the Alundri, my first instinct had not been murder.
And so, as my grandmother indicated, and as I am sure you had already concluded for yourself, while the battle had been one, the war was far from over. The Professor would not give up in his task after a single defeat, and so I could not allow myself to rest after a single victory. The road ahead would be a long and dangerous one, but it would be one on which I would travel with a much better knowledge of who my friends were, and, indeed, who I was.
My last words then, shall be those of thanks. Thanks to you, dear reader, for allowing an old man to tell his story, a story which I pray has not been too scary, and which I hope has kept you sufficiently entertained. Most of all, I hope you remain open to at least the possibility of the truth of my tale, for, as I have tried to demonstrate to you, sometimes believing is half the battle.