Page 55 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
“Actually, she’s a rescue dog and her name is Buttercup, but for our act today, she’s playing the part of Fang, a character in the beloved book series Harry Potter.” I gesture toward the tiny black robe she’s wearing. “Hence the wizard attire.”
I can’t believe it’s only been a matter of days since I bought the robe at Harry Potter World. It seems like a lifetime ago. I originally purchased it for the big stuffed owl that sits on a shelf in the library at school, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And this, my friends, is desperation at its finest.
“Since Fang is a wizard, when it comes to training, I find that a touch of magic works wonders.” I reach inside the pocket of my peplum jacket and pull out my plastic theme park wand.
The judges laugh out loud.
This is either going brilliantly, or I’m making an idiot out of myself.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
I aim the plastic wand at Buttercup and channel Hermione as best I can. “Let’s see if Fang responds to a summoning spell, shall we?”
I keep my left hand low and angle my body so the judges can’t see the hand signal I’m giving the dog.Come.
With my other hand, I give the wand a little swirl in the air while I call out, “Accio!”
Buttercup trots toward me, and I hear a collective gasp of approval. I’m not sure where it’s coming from—either the contestants waiting in the wings or the judges.
Relief floods my veins.It’s working.
I turn my back on Buttercup and take a few steps. She trots after me, like she’s being doing for the past couple of days.
I turn and point the wand at her again. “Impedimenta.”
She plops into a sit position.
With an arched brow, I tell the judges, “Just a little immobilization spell. It won’t last long.”
We go through a few more magic tricks in rapid succession. Buttercup lies down when I use the Stupefy spell and then rolls over when I call out Riddikulus.
Once the little dog is standing again, I say in a loud mock whisper, “I don’t dabble much in the Dark Arts, but let’s see if I’ve got what it takes to pull off a killing spell.”
I wave the wand at Buttercup and using the hand that’s hidden from the judges, I make a gun gesture with my thumb and pointer finger. “Avada Kedavra!”
Buttercup falls onto her side, playing dead.
The judges are collapsing into heaps of laughter now. All of them, including Gray. Because, yes, I look again. I can’t help myself. And as embarrassing as it is to admit, the fact that he’s impressed by my silly little act makes me giddy. Not because this is a contest and he’s a judge, but because I care about his opinion. I care abouthim.
And in that instant, I know the kiss wasn’t just a fluke or a one-time thing. It meant something... to me at least. And even though I vowed it was a mistake, if I had the chance to take it back, I wouldn’t. In fact, I want to kiss him again.
Soon.
Right now, actually.
I want to toss my wand aside, cross the stage, and kiss him right here in front of everyone.
I don’t, obviously. But the image is swirling in my head, taunting me while the ninety-second clock winds down.
That’s when I realize I’m in trouble. So very much of it. I feel as though I’ve downed a gallon of Amortentia. Which, in case you’re wondering, is the most powerful love potion in the world of Harry Potter.
I grip my wand so tightly that it’s in danger of snapping in two. Buttercup rearranges her compact little body so that she’s resting in a sphinxlike position, awaiting her next command.
We’ve only got time for one more trick, so I choose my favorite. This one doesn’t even need a wand. Only a word.
Specifically, a name.
“Voldemort!” I say, invoking the name of Harry Potter’s archenemy, the most dangerous wizard of all time. The Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
