Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me! Neither does Tom Cruise, Jesus, or Scientology!
Harry Potter and the Unicorns' Request
Up in Gryffindor Tower, a boy with jet black hair, thin-framed glasses, and a signature scar slept at ease in his four-poster bed, unaware of what was to come. But this was no ordinary boy. No, Harry Potter was a wizard. Not only that, he was famous! Not a child in his world did not know his name.
He turned over in his sleep and ruffled his hair. A smile paved its way to his face; he was dreaming of Quidditch again and the look on Malfoy's face as he snatched the snitch right under his nose. In fact, Harry Potter was so caught up in his dream he failed to notice a unicorn standing right over his body.
"What the—" Harry croaked. But before he could finish his sentence, the unicorn spoke.
"I am Galahan! I have come to take you to your people!"
"Since when did unicorns learn the English language?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Silence, young one, you need to be taken to Hemli, realm of Asanine! There you will learn our ways which you forgot!" Galahan—the unicorn leapt from his bed onto the cobblestone floor. It pawed the ground and beamed at Harry.
Harry scratched his head and raised his eyebrows, trying to figure out why a talking unicorn wanted him to travel to another dimension. There must have been something in the water...
"Listen, Galahan, I need to defeat Voldemort. They say I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. I have a life here, and friends. I don't know what you're talking about."
"YOU ARE OUR CHOSEN ONE, BOHAN! YOU ARE ONE OF US!" Galahan then grabbed Harry with his teeth and tossed the boy onto his back, jumping out of the eight-story window.
"ARE YOU INSANE?" Harry yelled to Galahan, clutching tightly to his mane. But before they could fall to their doom the unicorn started to fly. They flew past lakes and mountains, until they reached a valley full of unicorns and banners of David Hasselhoff. Galahan giggled shrilly as they landed and pink lily flowers popped out in front of them, singing to Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley.
"Since when did plants have vocal cords? Or for that matter know famous American 80's songs?"
"They are all knowing and all powerful, Bohan. You must understand this concept if you are to discover the true meaning of your existence."
Before Harry could comment on this positively batshit statement, every unicorn turned their eyes to him. They whispered in excitement. And immediately, Harry felt at home. As if all his troubles had washed away…
Except one.
"Galahan, I don't understand. How can I be a unicorn? It's physically impossible and—"
"Bohan, do you question why the sun sets? Why the trees lay still? They simply are, my young one. But in order to discover your true self, you must snort this white powder, my child. It will help you see things that others cannot. It will help you form into one of us again."
Harry looked down at the white powder the unicorns laid before him. It sparkled in the sun, just like the unicorns did in the moonlight. It was so shiny. He dived his head in the powder and took a big snort.
"ARGH! IT BURNS!"
Harry curled into a ball, twisting his fists in agony. Meanwhile, a unicorn could be seen nudging aside a box of Tide Bleach in the far background. Harry shook uncontrollably on the ground, his eyes rolling back.
"Quick, Faline! Get the tomato soup!"
Harry opened his eyes to see he was covered head to toe in red sauce. He turned his gaze to Galahan.
"I see…I see who I am…"
"Yes, my young one, you do."
"But why…why do you have posters of David Hasselhoff everywhere?"
"Alas, my young one, the first question you ask me, I cannot answer. All in good time, Bohan, all in good time…"
Harry stood to his feet. His heart felt heavy and his brows furrowed. "Will I ever see you again?"
Galahan put his horn to the boy's forehead and whispered, "Of course, my young one. You will see us and your people when you call to the west winds in talks of L. Ron Hubbard."
"Who's that?" Harry persisted, but before Galahan could reply he was gone.
Harry laid on his four-poster bed, sweat coating him like a second skin on a snake. He raced to the bed next to him, shaking the sleeping figure.
"Ron! Ron, wake up! Ron, Hermione wants to lick your—"
"Wha—Hermione wants to—Harry, you prat! It's three a.m.!"
"Ron, I have something to tell you—and Hermione! Get her up here!"
Ron mumbled grudgingly and scribbled on a slip of paper words like, 'mental', 'get down here', and 'insomnia'. Quickly handing the note to Pigwidgeon, Ron slumped out from his sheets.
"Come on, Ron! She'll be down stairs."
And she was. A tuff of brown hair veiled the expression of an irked Hermione Granger. Her fluffy bunny slippers tapped the floor incessantly while her arms crossed. Harry and Ron looked into those narrow brown eyes that demanded an explanation.
"Harry, why are you pestering us at three a.m.? Don't you know we have exams tomorrow?"
"Hermione, it's urgent, it's about—"
"Is it about You-Know-Who?" Hermione interrupted, the dawning thought making her eyes widen nervously. "Have you been having more dreams about him?"
Ron snapped his head towards Harry too. His face whitened. Harry on the other hand waved the suggestion off, lowering his head gravely. "It's about my past…about…about who I really am."
Hermione and Ron fixed their gazes on Harry, not moving a muscle, afraid of missing a word.
"I am…I am…A UNICORN!"