"So," I hop up to sit on the kitchen counter beside the stove, where Dickon's cooking something that already smells amazing. I try to lift up a pot lid to see what it is, but he smacks my hand away. It'd be pointless to try to argue or get past him, so I just stick my tongue out at him instead, making him smile.
"So?" he questions, bringing me back to the subject.
"I've decided where I'm going next," I tell him, crossing one leg over the other.
"Oh? Where?"
I grin, "To Hogwarts."
"Harry Potter?" Dickon chuckles. "You'll have lots of fun there."
"Yep," I say a bit haughtily. "Changing the world, saving lives, riding dragons…"
"I don't remember anyone riding dragons in Harry Potter," Dickon points out before I can continue.
"Well that's because they had no sense of adventure," I reply, as if that were obvious. Dickon laughs, shaking his head at me.
"What are you going to do about a wand and their magic?" he asks, since our world's magic is much different than the kind in the Wizarding World.
I shrug, "It'll actually be really simple. The wand chooses the witch. I'll get a wand that'll be able to take and channel my magic, just as if I were a normal for that world witch."
"What if there isn't one?" Dickon asks, offending me a little bit. He must know the answer by now. We've been together for almost two hundred years now.
"I'll make one, of course."
"Of course," he echoes, reaching over to slide me across the counter several inches, pulling me closer to him. He leans over the corner of the stove to kiss my cheek and rest his forehead against mine. "Be careful," he says quietly.
I smile, touching the side of his face. "Oh, but don't you know, love? There is no story if everyone is careful."