DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter, names, characters, and related indicia are copyright of Ms. Joanne K Rowling. The Diskworld, names, characters, and related indicia are copyright of Mr. Terry Pratchett. I am dreaming in their worlds and making no money (from the dreaming, that is, I've not quit my day-job).

The small door in the east side of the Great Hall banged open as Harry Potter ran through it at top speed.

"Oh shit! OH shit! WE'RE GONNA DIE!"(1) The-Wizard-Who-Lived screamed at the top of his lungs as he made a bee-line straight to the main doors, jumping over the Ravenclaw table on his way.

Needless to say, the staff and students of Hogwart's School, who until this time had been enjoying their peaceful lunch, started to panic at this announcement.

"No, no, no!" An old, bedraggled wizard entered the Great Hall, at a considerably more sedate pace, by the same side door recently used by the fleeing-for-his-life Harry Potter.

Harry, mere fingertips away from the larger doors, stopped, turned to the new arrival, and asked in an exhausted voice, "What did I do wrong this time, Rincewind?"

The assembled population of Hogwart's, sensing impending entertainment, calmed from their terror and sat back down to watch.(2)

"You jumped over this table here." The Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography, Rincewind, pointed to the offending furnishing.

"I had to. It was in my way to get to the doors." Harry told Rincewind.

Rincewind shook his head. "If you had a destination in mind, then you were running to. You don't seem to grasp the concept: run from. The to is not important(3). Run away."

"But there's a staircase off the entranceway through here where I can wait to ambush whoever's chasing me..." Harry insisted.

Rincewind, The-Wizard-Who-Would-Not-Die(4), looked horrified. "Ambush? As in... Fight? But, but, that's dangerous! You'll never survive with that attitude my dear boy. Now, try it again."

Harry took a deep breath. He flung open the doors of the Great Hall. He began to sprint and scream, "Oh, shit! I'm gonna die!" He moved so fast that his pointed had blew off his head.

"No! A wizard never looses his hat!"(5) Rincewind, with a disgusted look on his face, picked up his student's hat and followed him.

"'Now zis eez unexpected.' 'Only because nobody has been killed yet...'" Ruskbyte, The Order of the Pheonix

(1)lit.: Stercus, stercus, stercus, moriturus sum. A special mantra said to raise the magical fluxes.

(2)Nothing calms a proto-mob and stops a riot faster than street theater.(+)

(+)This also applies to theater performed in squares, parks, glades in forests, large rooms in buildings, et cetera.

(3)As an experienced coward, Rincewind knows that the 'to' is not important when the 'from' holds such interesting times.

(4)Much to Death's chagrin, Rincewind keeps missing his appointments.

(5)Wearing a pointed hat, one with a round brim, shows other people that the wearer is a wizard. Ergo, those who do not wear a wizards' hat are not wizards. Wizards must wear their hat or else they suffer from existential uncertainty.(+)

(+)As a side note, for those interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts, existential uncertainty is an excellent method of dealing with bogeymen. Just throw a, preferably blue and fluffy, blanket over the bogeyman's head.