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As the night settled around us, Sarah and I found ourselves engrossed in a conversation about movies— Harry Potter, as it often did with Sarah.
“So,” I started, grinning, “if you were a character in Harry Potter, who would you be?”
Sarah's eyes lit up mischievously. “Obviously, I’d be Hermione. The brains, the spells, the hair? Totally me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Hermione? You mean you’d follow every rule and stress about exams?”
“Okay, maybe slightly less about the rules. I’d probably sneak into the kitchen and charm the house elves into giving me snacks.”
I laughed. “Right, because the most important spell at Hogwarts is Accio Snacks.”
“Exactly!” she giggled. “And what about you? You’re, like, a total Ron. You know, always eating and getting into trouble.”
I gave her a mock-offended look. “Ron? Really? I was thinking more of a Harry—brave, mysterious, chosen one, the whole package.”
She burst out laughing. “Mysterious? Please, you’re about as mysterious as a Hufflepuff at a Quidditch match. You’d be the one tripping over your robes while trying to duel a pixie.”
I shrugged, leaning back with a grin. “At least I wouldn’t accidentally make myself disappear with an invisibility cloak and forget where I went.”
“Oh, you’d definitely try out all the weird spells,” she added. “You’d spend hours in the library looking for spells to make your breakfast float to you. ‘WingardiumLeviosa, toast!’”
I snickered. “Honestly, that’s a solid plan. Think about it—no more getting up from the couch. Everything just flies to you.”
Sarah pointed at me with a knowing look. “And then you’d accidentally send the toast flying into someone’s face. Classic Ron moves.”
I sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll embrace my inner Ron. But if I’m Ron, that makes you Hermione, which means we’ll be best friends forever, bickering over house-elves and polyjuice potion.”
She leaned in, laughing. “Deal! But no puking slugs like Ron, okay? I drew the line at that.”
We both erupted into laughter,
“I still don’t get how Harry never questioned why his glasses didn’t get an upgrade,” Sarah said, squinting dramatically. “Like, he’s literally a wizard, but no one thought to fix his vision?”
“Right?” I laughed. “One flick of the wand and boom—20/20 vision. But no, they left him squinting through every Quidditch match like, ‘Is that the Snitch or a very fast bee?’”
