The Magician's Apprentice

The Frickin' Guardians of the Galaxy

Turns out it was a lot harder than I thought to help Thor and Loki. I spend a lot of time just communicating to them via my telepathy. Stephen was being really annoying about it, saying that I needed to spend less time meditating (that's what I told him I was doing when I was telepathically communicating to others) and spend more time studying.

This was a huge pain, as I couldn't read the tomes he provided normally. There was also the fact that a majority of them weren't even in English. When I complained about this to Stephen, he irritably said, "Then learn the languages. That's what I did."

"Fine, Professor McGonagall," I snapped. On a side note, I had came up with a mental list of nicknames to give Stephen when I'm annoyed with him (which was getting increasingly often).

Soon I found myself sitting in my room with a stack of books on my lap. Despite me not being able to see them, I glared at them like they were insulting me.

"Screw you," I growled, unsure if I was talking to the books or Stephen, who thrusted these in my arms and pointed to my room.

I heard my door open and Stephen walked in. "You realize you can read those in your Astral Form," he said.

"Don't you ever knock?" I snapped at him.

Stephen sighed and ignored my retort. "I had Wong translate the lessons that I want you to study," he said. "That should make things easier and faster."

I tried to think of something irritable to say, but I couldn't ignore the fact that what he did was going to help tremendously. "Thanks," I mumbled.

Stephen regarded me in surprise. "Did you just thank me?" he asked. When I didn't answer, he chuckled and said, "I'm going to assume that won't happen again any time soon."

I flushed in both embarrassment and annoyance, but before I could say anything Stephen left, closing the door behind him.

"Weirdo," I muttered, although I couldn't help but smile in spite of myself.

_______________________

When I was a little kid and read Harry Potter for the first time, I was bursting with jealousy at all of the characters attending Hogwarts. I desperately wanted to join them in their studying of magic, despite their complaints of too much homework and harsh teachers.

Now that I had pretty much what I had dreamed of since childhood, I suddenly understood Harry's complaints of overcomplicated textbooks and high expectations. I had always imagined myself being like Hermione, top in every class and exceedingly skilled, but I felt more like Neville than anything.

I could barely understand the mere concept of what I was reading, let alone comprehend the massive words that I never knew existed. I was beginning to suspect that either Wong made some serious translation errors, or my vocabulary was more limited than I thought. Maybe both, even.

I soon returned to my Physical Form with an exhausted sigh; I was so tired. It was half past ten the last time I checked the time, and that was ages ago. Not bothering to change or brush my teeth, I flopped onto my bed and instantly fell asleep.

______________________

I was wandering around the streets of New York aimlessly. I kept bumping into everyone around me, but nobody took notice.

"Evie!"

I looked around for the source of the voice who called my name. It sounded like Stephen.

The crowd continued to jostle around me, and soon Stephen came into view. He was wearing wizarding robes, a pointed hat and had rectangle-framed glasses--the exact outfit Professor McGonagall wore in the Harry Potter books.