/\/\/\/\/\\\/\/\/\/\\\/\
"Hmmmmmm. Yet another piece of trash."
I was talking to myself, as usual. Plastic bag in one hand, trash scoop in the other, I was on my daily walk.
And it was true. I had just started, and already the bag was half full.
"God, these teenagers don't care do they?"
Another one. Looking at it, though, it didn't seem like your everyday trash. It was a small boot, just big enough for a small baby, but in perfect condition. Why would anyone want to throw that away? I decided to keep it, and was about to put it in my pocket, when I felt a jerk behind my navel. I looked around and no one was there. And then the world spun.
I landed on my side, managing to hit the old war wound and winced in pain. I tried standing up, and managed it, shakily.
"8 o'clock from Yorkshire?"
Looking up, I saw an old man, older than me, looking at a sheet of paper and wearing what looked like a bath robe.
"Where am I?" I asked
"Huh. You don't know?" the man snorted. "Outskirts of London, for the alchemy convention."
"Alchemy? Is this a Middle Age fair or something?"
Looking up, the man looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.
"Are you a wizard?"
"Wizard? What are you talking about?"
"What's your name?"
"Brian Keppel"
"Brian, I want you to stay here. I'll be back soon."
He walked a few steps away, turned, and… disappeared.
And then reappeared a few minutes later with two even older men, all dressed in robes.
"So, the muggle came holding the portkey from Yorkshire," said one.
"Yes sir. He was also holding these items," said the man I met first.
"Hmmmmmm I think we need Arthur," said the last.
"I'll get him sir," said the man number one.
Again, he turned on the spot and disappeared. Then, one of the other men came up to me.
"Brian, I'm George Dillys, from the muggle liaison office of the ministry of magic."
"What's a muggle?" I asked.
"Ahhhh. A muggle is someone who is non-magical, like yourself."
"There is such a thing as magic?"
I suppose he was about to answer, but the first man came back with yet another man, but this one was younger and had fiery red hair.
"Arthur, this is Brian. He is the muggle I told you about."
"And these are the items he was holding?" asked Arthur.
"Yes."
"Hmmmmmm. This one seems to be a pag blastic, and this one is a trash soup."
"Actually, that's a plastic bag and a trash scoop," I said.
"That's what I meant," said Arthur, turning slightly red.
"Arthur, we need to get him back to Yorkshire and the portkey back too," said George.
"I'll take care of it," said Arthur, "Grab my arm Brian."
Confused, I nevertheless did what I was told, and Arthur turned, and I felt a sensation not unlike the one before. Then we landed back in Yorkshire.
"I'm sorry about this Brian, but it has to be done," he said.
"What has to be done?" I asked, as Arthur pulled out a stick.
"This. Obliviate."
- - - -- - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - -- -
"Hmmmmmm. Yet another piece of trash."
/\/\/\/\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\\/\\/\\/\/\\/\\/\/\\/\/\/\\/\/\/\\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\\\
Review please.