My Wife Married a Muggle
I went to Barnes and Noble Friday, 20 July MMVII, to get my long awaited copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Since there was a costume party, I went as Arthur Weasley.
Many interesting people were there, but they were too garrulous, and I thought I'd just sit at Starbucks and wait. I saw a thin woman with dark hair just sitting there, alone.
"Hello," I said, coming over to talk to her.
"Here to find out what happened to Harry too, aren't you?"
"Well, who isn't?"
"I'm not."
"Oh. Boyfriend in love with Potter?"
"Nope. No boyfriend."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Would you believe me if I told you I congregate where I feel I need to be?"
"But why here? Why this night?"
"You ask too many questions."
"But I've never met a woman who so captivated me. It's like you're holding a spell over me or something."
"Maybe I am," she said, facetiously.
"I think it has something to do with aura. I'm attracted to people with a certain aura, and you're the first person I've met in a long time who had it."
"Ah. Well, would you believe it if I told you I already know the ending of Harry Potter?"
"How is that possible? Unless you're Rowling's bosom friend, which is highly unlikely, since this is Houston, Texas and she's in Great Britain."
"Maybe I just have a hunch. I feel as if I've lived in Harry Potter's world. So, who is your favorite character from the series?"
I hesitated. "This is hard to say. In the first five books, Hermione Granger held my heart. But now…"
"Now?"
"Is it okay if I whisper the name in your ear? If afraid people will laugh at me if I speak the name out loud."
"Do whatever suits you best."
I went over to her ear and said, "Romilda Vane."
She was so startled that she crushed the glass she was holding. "What did you mean by that name?" she asked, a ghostly pallor on her face.
"She's my favorite character."
"Oh," she said. But the paleness didn't disappear. "But she doesn't have a big role."
"She has a big enough role for me. I just love her antics, trying to get Harry to take in love potion by eating chocolates, and other stuff. On wikipedia, I call myself 'Romilda Vane 844.' I often dream of her, think of her, and wish she was real. If she was, I'd marry her in an instant!"
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Twenty. And you?"
"Twenty-five."
"Wow! That means you're about Romilda's age. Perhaps you can tell me what a twenty-five-year-old woman like yourself does for hobbies. Maybe I can just imagine that it was her doing them. Not that I mean to offend you…I'm sure you're a great woman as you are, but how infinitely better, I think, if you were Romilda Vane!"
"What if I was her? What would you do?"
"Let's not talk about mere possibilities. I can wish all I want that you were my dear Romilda, but that would never make it true. She's a fictional character—the best one ever. And besides, she's British! She wouldn't be here, even if she was real."
"Circumstances sometimes drive people to the oddest places."
"Perhaps. But Romilda would never voluntarily go where I was near. I'm like a wild beast when it comes to that girl—at least in my fantasies. Well, it's kind of silly to call her a girl, since she's a woman now. If only, if only…"
"If only fiction were fact?"
"Yes. What is your name by the way?"
"You haven't told me yours."
"John Lucas."
"May I see a ID? That name sounds so fake."
I showed her my identification card.
"Okay, so you are John Lucas. But why should I give you my name?"
"Because you're the most interesting person I've ever met."
"Ooh, flattery. If only Harry had shown that, he wouldn't have wasted his life away with that strumpet."
"What was that? Did you have a guy named Harry who broke your heart?"
"Yes."
"Don't sweat it. Tons of women broke mine, and I'm still intact."
"But the love I felt for Harry was strong, and my heart was breaking when I discovered he had no eyes for me. I even tried to dye my hair red once, thinking he was attracted to redheads, but he didn't have any eyes for me."
"Some men don't know a great woman when they see one."
"I thought I wasn't as special as your Romilda Vane."
"She can wait for me. Tonight is your night."
"Do you really want to know my name?"
"Yes."
"Wait till midnight; then I'll tell you."
We conversed some more, until the clock struck twelve. I stood in line to get the last Harry Potter novel, and walked out at half-past.
"Okay, time's up. What is your name?"
"Romilda Vane."
I dropped the bag with my novel in it, in disbelief. Then I saw her pull out a wand, say a Latin word, and the bag floated back into my hand.
"Magic? You can cast spells?"
"Did I not just say I was Romilda?"
"I didn't believe you at first, but I can't help but doing so now. Romilda!" I hugged her. But then I realized that she would soon be walking out of my life forever, and I desired it to last as long as possible. "How did you get here?"
"How did I arrive here, you mean? By broomstick, of course."
"But why did you come specifically to this Barnes & Noble and not one of the other thousands across the country?"
"Sibyl Trelawny told me that I would meet the greatest love of my life here. Normally, people don't believe her, but she sounded so convincing that I thought I'd give it a shot."
"Have you?"
"Have I what?"
"Found the greatest love of your life."
"Only time will tell," she said, smiling at me.
A month after that, we were married.
