A Sneak Peak of my new Fanfiction project I'm Writing Secretly for a Friend

What does than insanely long title mean?  Well just read to find out! 

AUTHOR’S NOTE
In this original work of fiction the successful Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling has not been published. Nobody in the muggle world is aware of wizards or magical creatures in my story.
I originally wrote this piece for my best friend of all time Ilana S. to remind her simply how awesome she is. As a friend I always want to make her feel more confident in herself and since words have failed me when speaking I decided to write a story instead. I wanted to write something involving her favorite thing, the magical world of Harry Potter, that is also a realistic tale of her triumphing over obstacles with skills she has in real life. I wanted her to not dread high school as we enter our freshman year by convincing her that she could survive even Hogwarts with flying colors so our normal, non-magical high school should be a cinch. If Ilana never learns to realize this I will still be there telling her how amazing she is until I am blue in the face.



The Friends that are Rivals or the Rivals that are Friends



Scarlet red fabric blew in the wind, draped over the shiny wood of Ilana’s broom. She was proud to wear the Gryffindor colors and even though her broom wasn’t particularly new or anything fancy she had polished it until it shone even on that overcast day. She perched on her broom, high above players clad in canary yellow and her team in scarlet identical to hers darting back and forth, surveying the field. Her eyes itched with the spell cast to replace contacts or bifocals but she ignored it and went over every square inch of the playing field twice. Where is it… A lone rider approached her from her left. The much taller girl wore the Hufflepuff colors and thick leather goggles, opting to wear them instead of risking a spell. It was ironic that two girls with such poor eyesight were the seekers on that year’s best two quidditch teams at Hogwarts. The other girl had streaked her short hair for the occasion black with yellow bewitched to sparkle. The girl’s name was Jordan and she is Ilana’s best friend and her greatest rival to this day.

After two hours of a very close championship game all the fans as well as both teams were edgy and would occasionally shout at their respective seeker. Two of the seekers’ friends in the stands, Casey Sedar in Ravenclaw and Michaela Frank in Gryffindo,r had put down their books long enough to watch the two girls stare each other down wearily. Suddenly, as the first drops of rain began to fall a bright shot of golden light zoomed once in a circle around the two dumbfounded seekers. Recovering her wits quickly Jordan with a wicked grin followed after it in close pursuit. Ilana closed her eyes and took a deep breath as thick droplets soaked her rich brown hair and made dots on her robe. She opened her eyes and followed the two racing objects.

The two girls’ shoulders bumped together as they raced after the snitch. They followed it as it circled once around the huge stadium and then down into the wooden frame of the stands. The girls darted through the complex structure, concentrating hard on the most difficult chase of their lives so far. They could hear the roar of the fans yearning to know how their team’s seeker was faring. No significant ground was gained for either girl and Jordan laughed at it all. It was a real laugh, Ilana could tell because it sounded ridiculously like a braying donkey sitting on a surprised chicken. Sometimes it’s hard for Ilana to take her rival seriously. Abruptly the snitch veered up and into the stands, sliding through a small crack in the boards and causing one startled professor to fall over with a cry. Both girls stared, or more glowered, at each other for a moment before racing off in two different directions, each one thinking of a different way out of the wooden structure. Jordan emerged first and her house mates looked relieved and elated but not for long because Ilana was soon also out in the open again and neither girl had spotted the snitch. There!

Both girls spotted it high above in the clouds. They darted after it as students cheered with renewed excitement. As they navigated through the thick gray clouds lightning crackled and thunder boomed menacingly. One bolt zinged past, mere inches from Jordan’s right side and half knocked, half startled her off her broom. Without hesitating the smaller seeker grabbed her arm, pulling them both down several feet. Ilana held tight to her broom and struggled to keep from dropping her wide-eyed opponent. Jordan’s broom now without a rider tumbled uselessly toward the ground and the snitch flew off into the clouds. Rain poured down and players and spectators didn’t even take cover or open umbrellas as they stopped to watch, stunned and unable to help the two girls because they were too far away. Black dye mixed with water streamed down Jordan’s drenched and scared face.

Ilana tried to descend but Jordan’s hand was slowly slipping from hers and the rain didn’t make it any easier to hold on. She could think of only one solution. So after only a moment of hesitation she tried desperately for the umpteenth time to use magic without a wand.

“Accio broom,” she whispered. “Accio broom!” The two girls stared hopelessly into each other’s eyes. The broom did not come. “Accio broom! Accio! Accio nimbus two thousand!” Ilana visualized the wooden handle with gold letters that excited the friends on their first day of flying lessons. She could see the tangled, stiff straw of the broom that had twice been used to beat Ilana over the head, once on accident and once on purpose. She seemed to summon all her desire, anger, frustration, fear and pride and managed one last “Accio broom damn it!”
Ilana’s heart clenched in horror: the broom wasn’t there and then neither was Jordan’s hand. She fell as Ilana watched and there was a collective gasp from the spectators below.



A Scream is a Sufficient Substitute for a Spell in Extreme Circumstances


Ok, maybe I should back up and explain how we got here, here being Jordan, myself and the author of this story, falling to my untimely death at the Hogwarts quidditch field and Ilana, the heroin of this story, struggling to save me by using magic without a wand. Our story truly began on July 15, 2011 in an outdoor shopping plaza near the town we both lived in. Crocker Park was the crowded center of the social world for every teen at our school. Kids went there to catch movies, shop, eat and hang out. We were there strolling the sparkly streets that bright sunny day with no real destination in mind, talking about trivial everyday happenings.

After a few hours we wanted to get out of the heat so we called and told Ilana’s mother and sister, Ari, who were at the computer store trying to get Ari’s music player fixed once again, where we were going. We stopped by an ice cream shop, went back to the car to eat our ice cream and waited. Neither of us spoke very much as we spooned gooey chocolate goodness into our mouths and enjoyed the relief of air-conditioning. I was the first to notice when the sun seemed to stop shining so brightly on the parking lot’s pavement. It could have been the clouds causing the light to suddenly turn gray but it lasted too long for that. I didn’t mention it at first, believing that Ilana would tell me my mind was simply playing tricks on me.

We finished our ice cream but there was still no sign of the two licensed drivers we had come with so I took our trash and walked back through the parking lot slowly. Underneath the pavilions covering the sidewalk I found a trashcan. I took out a piece of gum as I leaned against a pole and procrastinated on making my trek back across the burning asphalt. After what could have only been a few seconds of chewing the fruity gum lost its flavor unexpectedly. I chewed the tasteless stale piece for a few moments dumbfounded. The formerly sunny day grew even darker and my eyes widened. I suddenly felt lifeless, weak, sad and depressed. I gripped onto the pole for support and gasped for air. Out of nowhere a gray bandaged face appeared inches from my own and a boney fingers wrapped around my neck and cut off my air flow. My mouth opened to scream but nothing came out.

My legs dangled in the air as it held me by the throat. I could feel nothing but numb as I was sucked into the foul creature. I felt no compulsion to fight it; my world was spinning and everything seemed hopeless. It sucked and sucked as my eyelids drooped and I breathed with some effort what I thought would be my last breath. For a moment the world was dark and everything was serene. I heard a voice, a voice I knew very well but it seemed like I had heard it eons ago instead of minutes before.

The voice screamed and with a jolt I was slammed back into reality. My eyes flew open and I barely managed to catch myself when the hooded figure dropped me and I scraped my hands and knees in the process. I saw wispy silver light drive the creature away. I stayed where I fell, panting for a moment. I heard Ilana gasp and looked up immediately. She fell to her knees and I scrambled up to catch her head in my lap before it hit the cement.

Her breath came in gasps but at least I knew she was alive. Her face was pale with exertion. I was scared out of my mind and I sobbed uncontrollably. The cloaked creature circled above, growing braver and flying closer with each swoop. I screamed as loud and as long as I could. Ilana winced at the harsh noise but was too worn out to do anything about it.

Our savior was not a police man nor a sword wielding knight nor a heroic mystical creature like a vampire or a werewolf. This isn’t a romance novel, it is real life. But I suppose a hero doesn’t need to be sexy just as long as neither of us dies a gruesome death or, as we would find out later, suffers a fate even worse. As I wailed and rocked back and forth insanely a silvery orangutan appeared in front of us. I stopped, stunned as the ghostly monkey chased after the cloaked figure. Mr. Herman pointing a stick ran toward us. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen.

“What…what just happened?” my crying forgotten. I gathered Ilana’s tiny, limp frame onto my lap. He wore a very old and unusual costume that was most inappropriate for summer and especially odd for our old math teacher. He bent down to study Ilana’s pale face I looked at the stick in his hand with curiosity; I suddenly had the desire to touch it. As my hand reached out hesitantly two more men arrived brandishing sticks. They were much younger than the first man, only a couple years older than Ilana and I. I looked wide-eyed between the three men and wrapped my arms protectively around my unconscious friend. The first man pointed in the direction the two creatures had ran off to. The two new stick waving boys nodded and ran off.
He lowered himself to the curb with a sigh. “What a pickle. Tsk. This is a problem,” he mumbled to himself absently. “Here.” I stared bewildered at the chocolate bar he offered me.
“Um, thanks I guess,” I said stupidly.

“It helps after what you’ve been through.” I ate some and he was right: it did help. I checked to make sure Ilana was breathing.

“Please Mr. Herman you have to help me help her.” He pointed the odd stick at her face and I swatted it away. He raised an eyebrow at me quizzically.
“You asked me to help. I’m not going to hurt her.” This time I let him point the stick at Ilana and he said a few words in a different language. The stick’s tip began to glow purple and Mr. Herman looked surprised and then he smiled. “How interesting. How very interesting,” and then to me “she’ll be fine.” He began to walk away. I was bewildered and motionless for a moment.
“Hey. Hey! Wait!” I left Ilana to chase after him.
“Your memory will be erased soon so there’s no use in explaining anything to you.” I grabbed his wrist and his still glowing stick was pointed at me now. His eyes grew in astonishment but I didn’t know why so I took a hesitant step back. “You are too…Hm, well that changes things.”
“Listen carefully Jordan, you are a witch, a magical being and so is Ilana. Stop, let me talk. Everything will be explained in time but for now just listen. That thing that attacked you is called a dementor, a very nasty and evil creature. Those two boys were sent to catch and return it to the ministry of magic. Ahp ahp, you’ll find about that later too. They’re only students at Hogwarts though so they weren’t fast enough and when I sensed it had attacked you two I came to help. Luckily Ilana is a very powerful witch and didn’t even need a wand to stop the thing… momentarily. She’s very worn out though.” Witches, dementors, Hogwarts, a ministry of magic? I had no idea what he was talking about but I just nodded in a daze.
He picked up Ilana and she whimpered. He took my hand: weird. “This may feel really strange.” Why is he holding my hand and what is he talking about? I thought before we apperated. It felt like my body was being compressed and stretched out and tossed around and paralyzed in one spot all at once. We arrived in a huge almost cavernous room made entirely of black marble with an enormous statue in its center. The building buzzed with activity in unseen rooms hidden behind its walls, the very air felt full of energy that I could not name. I could tell it was a special place: polished with care and pride. It was both dazzling and beautiful. I vomited onto the floor.
Mr. Herman flicked his glowing stick and the mess was cleaned up. I became dizzy and sat down on the ground, feeling really lousy and dumb. The two boys from earlier arrived then.
“We’re so sorry, are the two girls ok Proffesor Herman? Oh! Why did you bring them here sir,” said one. It was obvious we were not welcome there in that perfect and special place. Despite being really embarrassed by how pathetic my position was I could not muster the energy to stand.

“They’re fine now you best be off to let the office know you caught the wretched creature,” Mr. Herman snapped and the two boys scurried away. “Come on,” he said to me then. I slowly rose as he walked briskly across the room, around the humongous statue and down a long hall to an old fashion grated elevator painted gold. I looked over my shoulder as I followed him are those fireplaces down that hallway? He whistled one of his signature loud whistles and two paper air planes flew towards him. He told one to send a message to Jennifer and the other to have the elevator opened. Is he talking about my mom Jennifer? No that would be silly…
Ilana stirred and Mr. Herman eased her to the ground to stand on her feet. With one arm around my shoulder she managed it.
“Where are we?” she asked sleepily.

“Uhhhh.” I looked at Mr. Herman.
“We’re in London,” he said matter-of-factly. When we stared stupidly at him he added “London, England.”

“Right,” Ilana snorted “we’re in England. Sure, makes total sense. This is all a strange dream and I’m going to wake up soon.”

“Believe what you want.” Mr. Herman shrugged as the elevator opened.



Perhaps once I finish the story I'll share it with my invisible readers and you Anne, my only reader.