From the world of Harry Potter.

"But what will happen to me?" Asked Carlos, clutching his wand tightly in his hand. "I can't fight them- they're too powerful!" He let out a sigh, letting his wand fall to the floor.
The old man flicked his hand at a nearby stack of papers. They rumbled, crumpled, and then shot out, flying around the room. As the boy looked up in astonishment, the paper balls began to circle around the man, much like moons to a planet. They then began to become true spheres: Round and smooth. The wrinkles disappeared completely.
"How did you-" Carlos began, but stopped mid-speech when the paper moons began to take shape again. The sides lifted up off each moon, lifting over the top to make a very disfigured "V." The v-moons began to shrink, in unison, as a small paper crane's head poked it's way out. Then, one by one, they all dropped from orbit and flew around the room, making sight nearly impossible as a wall of paper cranes blocked one's vision.
As the boy tried to swat away the flying paper birds from his face, the old man then lifted his arm to sky, slowly. In unison, all the birds flew towards a closed window, which opened for them magically as they poured into the dusk's sky.
"You see?" Said the man. "There's nothing to it. Just focus and cast your spell." He looked out at the growing ever-smaller bird flock, now a speck of white against the evening sky. "The sky's the limit."
"But I can't do that!"
"Maybe not." He put his wrinkled hand on Carlos's shoulder. "But the laws of magic aren't fixed. They can be altered: Individually tailored to fit one's purposes. "
"But I can't alter do that!"
"Then write." He grabbed Carlos's wrist, forcing him to hold up his wand. "The paper is around you. The magic inside you is your ink." He squeezed his wrist. "And you're holding the quill."
"What are you saying?"
The man let go of the boy. "I'm saying, boy, that if you can't change the laws... then write more." His eyes sparkled as he turned to look out the window. "Write much more."