A Little Bit of Magic
The life of George Weasley was nothing special. It'd been that way ever since George decided to leave the Burrow. His family started to worry about his mental health, whereabouts, and physical health. George thought that all that worrying was a waste of their time. He knew they thought he was lost, not literally, but in the sense of not knowing where to go, what to do, or what to feel. He was lost. He had removed a major part of his identity: magic. He hated it. All magic did was bring destruction and death. Magic is what caused hundreds of innocent people to die, it caused wars, and it caused families to be broken apart. There were several classmates, friends, and family members that perished, or vanished into thin air . Families were broken up, some never the same again. To George it served as a catalyst to the worst day in his life, and in Weasley family history. Magic is how a young wizard, by the name of Fred Weasley, George's other half lost his life. The grief of knowing that some people were never coming back, and several were lost forever, was due to the evils of magic.
What ever happened to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? Well, it turned into a housing complex, because it was a giant space. No business was happening hence why it shut down. There was no point in running the shop when the person who helped create it with you was gone. So, George took up a new profession which was painting. It was a new way of expressing himself. Art is subjective, it means different things to different people. Even if George himself knew that he wasn't the most amazing artist, he could always learn other artists' painting styles. He had already learned the styles of Picasso, Monet, Rembrandt, Kahlo, and Renoir. He thought it was amazing how he could recreate their styles. It was somewhat fun for him, and gave him a bit joy. At his little kiosk where he sold his work, he wondered why no one bought his works. There was an answer to that, it was because he never had his own style of painting.
It was a Sunday evening, with shops already closed. George's kiosk wouldn't close 'till 8:30 PM. No one really noticed his small business, but some did. They donated around fifty pence or so because they thought he was a beggar. Today was going to be different.
George eyed the bustling crowd in front of him. Most people were students from nearby Hackney University Technical College. The rest were people wearing fancy clothes, and that puzzled him. There wasn't a function happening, that he knew about, and he was positive none of the university kids could afford those clothes. Heck, his paintings were cheaper than £20, which was less than the total cost of the outfits the new crowd was wearing. He didn't realize that the fancy crowd wasn't in just one concentrated area, they were all across town. While he thought about what in the name of Merlin was going on, he heard a feminine voice say, "Excuse me sir, I heard you were an excellent painter, would you mind if you painted my portrait?" That was his first customer for the day. She was a young woman, most likely part of that new crowd.
"Of course madam, which type? Side view-"
She cut him off, "Paintings take a long time, don't they?" She asked.
What type of question is that? Of course they do! He replied, "Yes they do, but sketches only take less than fifteen minutes."
"If that's the case," She sighed, "then I'm afraid I don't have enough time for a sketch."
"Well, then how 'bout a doodle?" He asked, hoping that she would buy something, he was short on money.
The woman smiled and replied, "A little doodle won't make me delayed."
He smiled, one of the firsts in a while, "Ok, a doodle you'll get," He focussed on his doodle for a good five minutes, thinking that the woman was still there. When he finished his doodle, she walked away and never got to see his spectacular rendition of Buckingham Palace. It was disappointing , but he noticed she left something behind. He eyed it closer and realized that it was a wallet! He had to give it back, he didn't want a strangers wallet. He dashed out of the kiosk, eyed the crowd intently, looking for the woman, he tried shouting,
"Miss, you left your wallet," but it was no use. She was gone and so was everyone else who belonged to the crowd of lavishly dressed people. It was as if they disappeared into thin air. He knew he shouldn't have done it, but he opened the wallet to see what was inside. He saw a note. It read "This is for you" with a smiley face at the end. Inside was around £100 and, to his astonishment, fifty galleons. It was one of the kindest things anyone's ever done for him. Not only that, but he was able to meet someone else like him, a wizard. Although it sounded cheesy, it seemed a bit magical. The woman was indeed a witch, but no one has ever done something like that before, and to him, that was magic. From that day forward, George Weasley vowed that he would meet the woman again, just to return a little bit of magic too. That day changed George Weasley's life forever. It made him think positive for once,
A little bit of magic can bring happiness to someone after all. I was just wrong about it the whole time.