Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter! Yay! What? What'd you mean I don't? What? Oh, fine. Ruin my happy fantasy. I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: In The Tales of Beedle the Bard, it almost sounds like this story was meant to be about the son and his dollies (why the son would play with dolls is beyond me) but I couldn't figure out how to make that work without writing a completely different story, so I just changed a few words in the ending.

The Wizard and the Hopping Pot

Adapted by Beatrix Bloxam

Once upon a time in a charming, happy village there lived a wonderfully kind old wizard who always used his magic for being a good person and helping his neighbors. He didn't tell his neighbors that he had magic (because they were Muggles and that might have made them unhappy), instead he told them that all the help he gave them came from his wonderful, cute little golden cooking pot. In this happy village, people from all around came to give his little pot a stir, cure their poorly tum-tums, and make their lives wonderful and happy again.

When this old wizard had reached a great age, he left the charming village, leaving all of his possessions to his only son. His son was not a generous person like his father. Instead, he was an old grumpy-wumpkins who didn't like all of the people from the charming village. He didn't want to be a good person and help them out like his father did.

When his father left the town, the son, whose name was Willykins, found the cute little golden pot sitting in his kitchen. He didn't like the pot, because he was just too much of a grumpy old pumpkin to see what a wonderful cute little thing it was.

The night after his father left, Wee Willykins heard a knock at his door. He opened it and saw a woman from the village standing there. She was unhappy, and wanted to make everything right by stirring Wee Willykin's cooking pot, but Wee Willykins just shut the door in her face like a mean old Dobby's Sock.

When Wee Willykins returned to his kitchen, he found the little golden pot hoppity, hoppity, hopping around the kitchen in a dejected sort of way on its tiny rosy toes.

"WHERE THE #$% DID YOU GET A FOOT FROM?" shouted Willykins… I mean… sorry, ignore that last line.

Wee Willykins was very surprised that the pot had sprouted a cut little foot, and it made him sad that his cute pot was so upset, but he didn't know what to do about it.

Several more unhappy people came to his door, wanting to give Wee Willykin's pot a stir, but he didn't let any of them stir it, because he was so grumpy and mean.

Then Wee Willykins realized something. I can help out all of my fellow villagers and make them happy, he thought. Then my pot will be happy to, and everyone can live a long happy life.

Wee Willykins left his house, and said he's sorry to all of the villagers he was mean to, just like a good boy should. He used his magic to help all of the villagers, just like his kind father did.

*Then the little golden pot danced with delight—hoppity hoppity hop!—Wee Willykins had cured them all of their poorly tum-tums and unhappiness, and the little pot was so happy that it filled up with sweeties for Wee Willykins and the villagers!

"But don't forget to brush your teethy pegs!" cried the pot, suddenly gaining a voice.

And Wee Willykins kissed and huggled the pot and promised to always help the villagers and never to be an old grumpy-wumpkins again. *

The End

*The text between the stars is more or less from The Tales of Beedle the Bard, pages 18 and 19.*