The wizard, who I would later come to know as The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, continued to meet with Galinda and I. He told us that he saw great promise in us, and soon our meetings would become a regular thing; every other Tuesday at 4:30 pm. Galinda and I, well, weren't friends. But I guess I had to pretend because she couldn't get it through her pea-sized brain that someone actually didn't like her. As our meetings with the wizard became consistent, her attachment to me grew stronger.
My resentment continued to grow until almost a year later. We were both waiting for the wizard outside the gates of the Emerald City as per usual, but this time Galinda brought a coloring notebook and crayons. Father never let me use crayons. He said that they were for low life muggles. Galinda opened her notebook and pulled out 7 shades of pink and yellow. I peeked over her shoulder 5 minutes later in curiosity and I saw an absolute pink monstrosity.
"What," I said, "is that?"
"That's me in the future," she answered. "One day I'm going to be known by everyone in Oz."
Huh. Maybe Galinda isn't as hopeless as I thought.
"Oh yeah? Well when I grow up I'm going to be a death eater, one of The Dark Lord's followers."
"Draco! I don't know what a death eater is but that sounds scary. Don't do that," she chided me.
"Galinda, clearly you don't know how things work in the wizarding world. Out of Oz, in order to be someone of high renounce, sometimes you have to get your hands dirty," I said quoting Father.
"That doesn't seem very fun," Galinda said sourly.
"You'll see."
If on cue, the gates of The Emerald City opened and an official walked us through the green town to see The Wizard. This time, our official's name was Remi.
"How are you kids doing today?" he asked pleasantly, as he handed us our glasses.
"Fine," I said, ending our conversation.
"I'm doing wonderful, Remi! Today, in 3rd grade we learned about division and cursive and in art I made the loveliest......" Galinda went on and on like she does every other Tuesday at 4:30 pm. By this time I was ignoring her and by the looks of it, so was Remi. After a few mind-numbing minutes of brainless blabber brought to you by Galinda, we finally arrived at the very center of Oz, also known as The Wizard's Headquarters.
The Headquarters were barely visible to the naked eye. Right outside a pub, there was a statue of a munchkin lady holding a chalkboard sign advertising their happy hour drinks. You might think that when you pull the right braid of the munchkin, a secret staircase will materialize leading to the Headquarters, but no, the author is much more creative than that. You pull the left braid. So the official pulled the left braid of the munchkin statue lady and a spiral staircase circled the statue, creaking as it sunk. We carefully walked down the stairs (because they were very old) and were met by a doorway arch. Remi left us. He wasn't allowed further than that. Only Galinda and I are because The Wizard says that we're special children. Special, yes. Children, not at all. At least not me. Galinda and I sat in silence as we usually do until she tries to break the tension by asking me my favorite color or animal or something else that's equally idiotic. "Children," a booming voice echoed through the room. Galinda and I both turned simultaneously.
