The Perks Of Being A Potterhead

Hanaa Mariam A, I Year B.A. English

Fanning myself, I lean on the balcony of my country estate.  A soft wind blows across my face, lifting my hair ever so slightly. I close my eyes and let out a small sigh. This sure was a very good decision. The best decision I ever made.

Two weeks ago, I was facing a dilemma when a man in black robes appeared out of thin air and hurriedly pressed a gold chain with a round pendant on my hand and disappeared again into thin air. And by thin air, I mean, thin air. As if he had apparated right in front of me and I had to close my eyes, shake my head and remind myself that no, wizards don’t  apparate in front of a Muggle and break the Statute of Secrecy and every other law which only Percy Weasley remembers, unless, of course, if said wizard was a convict trying to escape the dementors of Azkaban.

The gold pendant had a small hourglass in it and a note neatly tucked away at the back. Wondering why on earth a random cloaked dude would hand me such a thing, without even telling me what to do or whether he had stolen it, I decided to open the note, hoping it had a name and an address so that I could return it.

When I unfolded the paper and read the contents, I almost laughed out loud. It was too funny to believe. I mean, if I wasn’t a Potterhead I wouldn’t have known that what I was holding in my hands was a Time-Turner. Or some bad prototype of it; I couldn’t decide.  There were only five words scribbled in a neat handwriting.  No name. No address.

Three turns should do it.

And the best part was, I read it in Dumbledore’s voice.

A large part of me that believed in the wizarding world wanted to follow the instructions; wanted to believe that yes, the wizarding world existed. Not that I doubted it anyway. It was just some annoying muggles telling me that it didn’t exist. So, I did what any Potterhead would have done. I turned the hourglass thrice.

As soon as I did it, I felt a tugging sensation at the back of my stomach and soon was enveloped by complete darkness. If not for the weird ache in my stomach I would have thought that I was dead. I landed awkwardly on my feet and stumbled. I hadn’t realised that I had closed my eyes all this while because when I opened them, what I saw knocked the breath out of me.

Green mountains covered every inch of space, and a small town could be seen, bustling with activity. There were a few sheep in front of me grazing about, mindless to the fact that a girl had just appeared out of thin air. Just when I was drinking in the beauty of the place, a voice came from behind me, ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

I whirled around to find a grey haired man speaking to me; it had to be me, because there was nobody else around. Taking my shocked silence as an answer, he went on to tell me that the Time-Turner (or what I had thought was a Time-Turner) was actually a modern, portable version of a time-machine. It had taken close to six short years to develop this marvel and apparently, there were three other people like me who had turned the hourglass and were now living quite peacefully in the eighteenth-century, which was where I was now. The grey haired man who was standing opposite to me was actually the person in charge who made sure that the people who turned the glass made it here.

I was in Turania, a remote village, located in Eina, known in the twenty-first century as England.  Apparently, it was Dave-the-grey-haired-man’s responsibility to see that the time travellers were provided with a decent house and the necessary money (which was taken from my bank account back from the twenty-first century), which was a good deal because the little money that I had was enough for me to live a luxurious life, as luxurious as the eighteenth-century could get, for a few years. And by ‘few years’ Dave meant the next eighty years of my life. For some reason, this fact made me incredibly proud because I had thought that I was working too hard for too little.

In the next few days, I was shown around the town of Turania and my new country estate. That was the best part about the entire leap. It was a two-floor mansion with ten rooms (I didn’t see the point of ten rooms but Dave insisted that since I was rich enough to own one, I should). I settled into this new life quite comfortably (despite the long dresses I had to wear on a daily basis). There were no cell phones or internet connections (obviously) and that meant I didn’t have to bother about not replying to my messages sooner. Nor did I have to worry about which picture of mine was beautiful and aesthetic enough to be put as my profile picture on social media.

And the greatest advantage was the fact that since it was the period during which the most famous novels, dramas and poems were written by famous and likewise infamous authors, I had the opportunity and (money) to buy the first editions of said books and spoil it for the friends of my reading circle. I had good food three times a day and my life was peaceful for once.

I mean, what more could I want?

I was pleased with myself for following my gut. The wizarding world had helped in more ways than I had ever imagined.

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