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George Weasley sat alone at his family's kitchen table in the burrow, winding a coin over and around fingers. Coin-fidgeting had become his habit while researching muggle tricks for a novelty section of Weasley's Wizardly Wheezes. It amazed him how hard these muggles had to work for a simple sleight of hand. If he and his brother Fred had had to work that hard, they never would have opened their store.

Fred. He sighed. Even now ten years after his twin's death, his birthday felt the same, like a patchwork quilt where the edges had unraveled. By all tangible measures, the party was a raging success, thanks to his mother's efforts. The entire family and a dozen friends had eaten his favorite foods, drank, and sang. The decorations were splendid, particularly the latest balloons, ones that shimmered and sparkled with miniature fireworks exploding inside. He was rich, successful, pretty damn handsome - if he did say so himself, and horribly unhappy.

Enough. He tossed the coin up in the air, caught it, and shoved it in his pocket. He'd never been one to wallow, and he wasn't going to start now. He needed something to take his mind from wondering into the sorts of pathetic places he suspected were frequented by more pathetic types, like his brother Percy.

He knew of one thing that would take his mind off his brother, and while last time it had gotten him in trouble, it hadn't been so much trouble that he wasn't able to get out of it. This time, he would simply go further away. He took out his wand. After summoning a quill and piece of blank parchment from a pile of his mother's, he hastily wrote:

Decided I needed some adventure in my life. Gone off on holiday. Ginny – please watch the shop while I'm away. Back soon, Love George.

And then he disappeared.

Howard Wolowitz had caved into the temptation to play hooky from work. The black satin shirt and purple bedazzled vest were a trifle too hot for this beautiful sunny day, but hey, he needed the costume for his game. Reaching a finger under his purple and gold turban, he scratched, and reminded himself to search for alternative headgear worthy of the Great Howdini.

He was sweating by the time he carried his table and case to the spot on the sidewalk popular with other street performers. There was shade, a decent crowd, and a nice view of the beach with some pretty attractive bikini clad women bouncing up and down while playing volleyball. He was married, happily so, but what the heck. They were only thoughts, nothing he'd act on. He set the table up, covered it with a piece of deep purple velvet trimmed in gold, set his case on the table, and took a sip from his bottle of water.

The water was important, because he was hot and thirsty, and because he needed a way to rinse his mouth following his first trick. The cornstarch didn't taste bad, but the texture was horrible.

Flipping open the lid of a small cigar box with a sign asking for "TIPS" he tossed in the first dollar, priming the box for the game he invented and called, "Can I make more money than last time?" The purpose of the game was simple; to remind himself how many people appreciated his talents even though he have a Ph.D.

For his first trick, he had to attract the attention of a crowd, and he had decided to do so with a flash.

He scooted his bottle of water to the front of the table, and then took two big steps to the center of the walkway, where pedestrians could spot him easily. He was also far enough away from his table the cloth wouldn't catch fire. He waited patiently, for a large group of people headed his way. When they were close, he put a scoopful of cornstarch in his mouth, lit his lighter, and spit the starch out in a fine spray. The cornstarch burst into flames when it passed the lighter, and Howard had completed his first illusion of the day: the Fire Breathing Dragon.

The members of the group passed by, not a one impressed or tempted to stop. Howard stretched his neck and like a turtle, pushed his tongue forward several times. He took a swig of water, and while rinsing spotted a tall, lanky, red-headed man across the way. Smiling, when he caught Howard's eye, he clapped.

"Do ya know what impresses me most about that particular trick, mate?" the man, from Great Britain based on his accent, asked.

"What?" Howard glanced at his empty box, and looked back at the man. If he were truly impressed, he'd put a tip in the box.

"That you'd put that foul substance into your mouth."

"I like to think of it as proof I'm dedicated to my profession." Howard smiled.

"I think it's daft," said the man with a good-natured yet snarky grin.

"Yeah, well, that too." Howard shrugged his shoulders. He had to be another magician, someone who knew the trick. Who else would put straight cornstarch in their mouth?

"Hi," Howard extended his hand. "I'm the great Howdini."

"Nice to meet you. I'm the great George." George smirked. He took a half dollar from his pocket, and began rolling the coin along his knuckles.

Smiling, Howard took out his own half dollar and imitated George's movements.

George slapped his coin against his forearm and made the coin disappear. Howard copied the trick perfectly. The two looked at each other, smiled, and the bromance had begun.

George had grown as fond of muggles as his father. They were cute, in an incredibly distracting sort of way. This muggle, a muggle in miniature, was particularly adorable.

George turned his coin into two and the muggle, the great Howdini copied him.

"Fair, fair," George said, and a mother with her two children stopped to watch as the Great Howdini and him competed. "But can you do this?" George asked. He took a card, the ace of diamonds to be exact, from his pocket, folded the card in half and passed the coin through the center. Howdini repeated the trick and three teenage girls stopped next to the family to watch.

Howdini rubbed his coin against the palm of his hand until it disappeared. George did the same. Howdini made his coin multiply into five. George did the same. A group of Asian tourists stopped to watch when Howdini caused a burst of flames and all the coins burned away.

George knew a number of muggle magic tricks, not this one. Not to be outdone, he smiled with a lip curled and cheated. Thanks to his real wand, his five coins also burst into flames, and the crowd applauded.

Tiring of this duel of muggle magic, George decided to end it.

"It's going to rain," he said and glanced up at a perfectly blue sky. When the onlookers did the same coins, chocolate coins, rained from the sky.

"Huh," the great Howdini looked up and then back at George. "How…" He pointed back and forth from the sky to George.

"It's magic," George said, and he wasn't lying. It really was.

At the back of the crowd, George caught a glimpse of a man with pure white hair, steel blue eyes, and a blocky forehead that hung over his eyes like a balcony. Something about the man's face, while nearly expressionless, caused George's skin to prickle unpleasantly. He was certain he'd never seen the man before, yet he couldn't get over an uncomfortable sensation, call it a premonition. Based on his urge, he moved closer to the great Howdini until the crowd dispersed.

"Look at how much money we made!" Howdini exclaimed proudly, looking like a simpleton while shaking his box.

The single biggest problem muggles had, George thought, was they don't notice enough. He looked back towards the light post, but the man was gone.

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