Happy Muggle Appreciation Day

"Happy Muggle Appreciation Day!" cries a booming voice. You blink, and stare all around you, suddenly realising you are most definitely not in your bedroom at home. You are sitting at a long wooden table, surrounded by young boys and girls, all of whom are wearing black robes. You blink again, thinking you must have fallen asleep - you must be dreaming, because this looks awfully like...

"At Hogwarts, we strive to love Muggles, and so, once a century, we have 'Muggle Appreciation Day', where the protective enchantments around the school are lifted, and a few lucky Muggles are kidnapped - I mean - invited - to join us for a day of learning, cooperation, determination and transformation - and hopefully not incineration!" You stare up at Albus Dumbledore, his long silver hair and beard glinting in the candlelight.

"But not to worry! We will not breach the international Statute of Secrecy!" He wags a reproving finger at the listening students. "For the duration of the day, we must all pretend that we, too, are simply Muggles, going about our business." Murmurs break out amongst the students all around you, and a few people laugh, clearly believing the whole thing to be a joke.

"Yes, yes, it sounds amusing..." Dumbledore smiles serenely, popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth before continuing, "but anyone who breaks the rules and reveals that we are not Muggles and that magic is real will be expelled and have their wand snapped in two. Like poor Hagrid here." He gestures to the half-giant beside him, who starts to sob, before blowing his nose noisily into a table-cloth-sized spotted handkerchief.

"Now, your Muggles should be waking up. Remember, no magic today! Embrace simplicity, naivety and the innocence of all Muggle-kind. Off you go then to your lessons, pip pip."

You cannot move, and sit as though stunned, as the students begin to get up and file out of the Great Hall. You still can't believe what is happening, when a bossy voice interrupts your thoughts,

"Hello there, I am Hermione Granger. I have been assigned to look after you today. You're here for a - erm - visit day. I am sure you know all about it." You find yourself looking into the face of Hermione Granger, her hair is just as bushy as the Harry Potter books always described, and she is smiling at you. You allow her to shake your hand, and she gestures at you to stand up. You do so, seeing Harry Potter and Ron Weasley standing just behind her. Harry is looking politely away, but Ron is gawking. Hermione leads you over to them, and introduces you, before saying, "We'd better hurry up, we have Potions - I mean, Chemistry - first. And Professor Snape won't be happy if we're late."

"That's an understatement." Harry says, grinning. Ron says nothing. His mouth is still hanging open and he seems unaware of anything else happening in the room. Hermione elbows him in the ribs, and he seems to come to. He blushes, and turns away quickly. You follow the golden trio, almost cricking your neck as your gaze swivels around the Great Hall, trying to take in the enchanted ceiling and the hourglass in the Entrance Hall, before you are led through a doorway and down a steep flight of stone steps. You never appreciated before, when reading the books, just how cold the dungeons at Hogwarts are, and you shiver as you traverse the dank, gloomy corridors.

"Potter, Weasley, Granger. Good of you to finally deign to join us." As you enter the Potions classroom, you try not to squeal in delight as you lay eyes on Professor Snape. You just adore Professor Snape - you wonder if you ought to tell him your WhatsApp chat with your best friends is called 'The Snape Appreciation Club', but he looks pretty busy, docking points from Gryffindor, so you decide not to disturb him. You sit down with the rest of the class, excitement bubbling inside you. Maybe you'll get to make a potion! Maybe you'll get to use a wand! Maybe -

"Ah, yes. Our visiting student." Professor Snape looks down his long, hooked nose at you, sneering as he says, "I don't expect you to understand anything we are doing today - we are a rather advanced school. So do not try to keep up. You can keep Longbottom here company." He gestures to a round-faced boy, who looks terrified. You feel yourself stiffen. Not be able to keep up? Keep Neville company? How dare he!

"Excuse me, Professor, I may be a Mu - I mean, a visiting student" - you correct yourself quickly - "but I'm not an idiot."

"Five points from Gryffindor," he replies, without missing a beat.

"But she isn't even in Gryffindor!" Ron howls.

"An excellent observation, Weasley. But you are. And you just interrupted me. That's five more points you've lost." Snape sweeps back to his desk, and you try not to laugh.

"Professor." A blond boy puts his hand up, and you try not to squeal again. Draco Malfoy! This day gets better and better!

"Yes, Mr Malfoy?"

"I can look after the visiting student."

"Mr Malfoy, you, unlike Mr Longbottom here, have better things to do with your time than -" But before he can finish his sentence, you have grabbed your bag and settled yourself between Draco and...Crabbe? Goyle? Never mind, they're pretty much interchangeable. They leave you with so little room that you are forced closer to Draco. Snape glowers at you, and you smile sweetly back. He seems to decide that ignoring you is the best course of action, and begins to teach his lesson. It's an interesting experience, especially when he yells at the Gryffindors for getting their wands out to light fires under their cauldrons. You dreamily watch Draco making his Potion, and he keeps up a long, boastful stream of chatter about his Manor, his father, his enormous wealth, and did he mention his father?

At the end of the lesson, Neville has managed to melt his cauldron, Harry has a detention for breathing too loudly, Ron has lost a further twenty points for calling Draco a "git" (to be fair, Draco had just told Hermione she was a buck-toothed, jumped-up little know-it-all, and that he would be taking charge of you for the afternoon). Somehow, you have lost Gryffindor a further ten points (for asking Snape what his wand was for) and won thirty points for Slytherin (for saying lilies were your favourite flower. Tee hee hee. You know how play Snape!) Draco keeps glancing at you sideways and smoothing his hair. Oh dear. This is really embarrassing. You like Draco, but his simpering face is rather sickening. You claim that you need the bathroom, and dart into the nearest one, only to find yourself face to face with... Lord Voldemort!

"Oh, hello little student," he says, trying to hide the open entrance to the Chamber of Secrets behind his back. "I am... wait..." he peers at you suspiciously. "Are you a student here? Or a Muggle?"

"Oh, I'm a Muggle," you say earnestly, "I am just visiting this rather dull school for the day. There is definitely no magic here!"

Moaning Myrtle chooses this moment to float through the nearest cubical door. She looks at you both then begins to cry. You point and scream, "Look! A ghost!"

Voldemort looks worried, and quickly says, "No. Of course she isn't. Don't be so rude! She is just a very anaemic girl. That is why she is so pale. You really shouldn't judge people based on their appearance and fling unkind labels at them, you know."

Coming from Voldemort - the leader of the Pure-Blood-Supremacy Death Eaters - this is rather hypocritical. But you decide to let it slide. "Erm... yeah. Sorry, anaemic girl." Myrtle floats away, her wails louder than ever. You ignore her plight and turn back to Voldemort. "So, who are you?"

"Well, I am most certainly not Lord Voldemort!" he cries. "I am..." he casts around for a name... "Tim Ruddle."

"Really?" you say. "I think 'Tom Riddle' - or perhaps 'The Dark Lord' would suit you better."

"Oh!" He preens. "Well, you may call me 'Dark Lord'."

"Thanks," you say, sidestepping him and looking into the giant hole behind the sink. "Wow! You could fit a whole Basilisk in here!"

"There are no such things as Basilisks!" he cries, chivvying you away. "Now, I'm sure you have a class to go to. Goodbye." And he ushers you out of the toilet, straight into Draco's waiting arms.

"I cannot hide it any longer - I love you!" he cries in a strangled voice. "I love you more than my Manor, more than my enormous wealth, more than my father!" You disentangle yourself from his embrace and gabble,

"Oh, that's really nice, but I have to go now to... Hagrid's hut!" And you run away from Draco as fast as you can. You don't have time to glance over your shoulder, but if you had, you know you would have seen his desperate, longing expression.

As you hurtle down the corridors, the eyes of the many portraits following you, you reflect that Draco is very different to how he appears in the books. J.K. Rowling must just have something against him, you decide. He's clearly a kind, sweet and sensitive boy, and not a blood-supremacist, manipulated into doing wrong by his horrid parents. 'My Immortal' was obviously right all along.

Tea in Hagrid's hut is quite nice, apart from when you nearly break a tooth on one of his famous rock cakes. He tells you that he is not a half-giant, but he ate all his vegetables when he was a child, and so he grew to be so "big 'n' strong." And when a bowtruckle jumps up onto the table, Hagrid insists it is just a grasshopper. But he still cries when you nearly squash it with your teacup.

After that, you decide to try gate-crashing flying lessons. Surely they can't hide magic from you if they're all racing around on broomsticks! But as you approach the Quidditch pitch, you can see a group of people running round, holding brooms between their legs, throwing tennis balls at each other. Madam Hooch is shouting,

"Yes, that is exactly how Muggles play badminton. Well done!"

Well, that's a let-down. You decide not to even bother, and head into the castle. Charms next - that should be a safe bet...

"Today, we are learning about Muggle charms - otherwise known as 'chat-up lines'!" squeaks Professor Flitwick. He opens a book and reads laboriously, "Can I lift your feather?"

The room sits in stunned silence. Professor Flitwick glances up, then back down at his page. "Which house are you in? I think it should be Slither-in!"

Ron, Dean and Seamus are red in the face, trying not to laugh. Flitwick continues, "If you were a Dark Art, I'd lower my defences!" And he doesn't stop, "Was I just knocked back by your looks or did you just cast Flipendo on me? Did you just cast Vermillious? I think I can feel a spark between us! I was worried about you turning me down, but that would just be Riddikulus!"

Parvati and Lavender collapse into helpless giggles. "Now really, girls!" Flitwick chides. "There is nothing amusing about this lesson. Now, where was I... Did you cast Incendio? Because it's getting hot in here. Did you just cast Engorgio? Because..."

"Sir," screams Hermione, "Stop mentioning m-a-g-i-c!"

"I can spell, you know!" you snap. Professor Flitwick jumps guiltily.

"Of course you can't! There's no such thing as spells! Hahaha, what nonsense! Well, that's the end of the lesson! Be off with you all!"

"But we've only been here five minutes!" Hermione cries. But it is too late. Flitwick has run out of the room.

As you follow the class out of Charms, you suddenly see a House-elf, scuttling along the corridor.

"Look! A magical creature!" you yell, pointing. The students freeze, turning as one to look at you, then at the tiny elf.

"That's not an elf!" Harry shouts desperately. "It's a... a..."

"Cat!" supplies Ron.

"Dobby is not a cat! Dobby is a free elf! And Dobby came here to see his beloved Harry Potter, Dobby loves Harry Potter, and Dobby -" But his voice is cut off as Harry and Ron rugby-tackle him, and Hermione laughs in high-pitched panic, trying to drown out the scuffle as she says,

"Yes, a cat. A hairless cat. Just a cat - hahaha!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not a cat, Hermione. It's trying to kiss Harry - look!"

Hermione tries to drag you away, but a suave boy smoothly steps in her way, flanked by his cronies, (who you still can't tell apart).

"Granger, gets your hand off my fiancée."

"Draco!" you cry in exasperation. "We are not engaged!"

"But I told my father all about you. He has prepared a room for you at the Manor. I have enormous wealth!" he wheedles.

Before you can think of a suitable reply, Professor Snape appears at Draco's shoulder. "Ah, the student who loves lilies," he says huskily, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You are to report to the Headmaster's office at once."

"Okay!" you say cheerfully. "Just out of interest, Professor, if there was a 'Snape Appreciation Club', would you prefer the members to be called 'Snapelings' or 'Snapelets'? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

Professor Snape mumbles, "Let's go." You assume that is his subtle and understated way of answering your question, which fills you with relief. Snapelets it is then!

As you arrive at the Headmaster's office, you hear the Potions master mutter the phrase "Every-flavour Beans," and you see a complex mechanical contraption granting access to a large office. There are three men already inside - you recognise Professor Dumbledore and the man who calls himself Tim Ruddle (you're still sure he's Voldemort), but there is another man, a rather handsome man, standing with them. He, you notice, has his top shirt button undone, so you can see a thick carpet of curly golden chest hair, which perfectly matches the curly golden locks on his head. This clearly shows that he is a good, noble and respectable man of the highest moral standard. The new man is the first to speak,

"Welcome, welcome, dear student! I am Gilderoy Lockhart, although I am sure you are already aware of this fact from my many famous tomes. If you have a copy of any of them with you, which I'm sure a young lady such as yourself will, I would be happy to sign them for you!" You see him grab a quill from the Headmaster's desk.

"That won't be necessary, Gilderoy," comes the calm voice of Professor Dumbledore, who steps forward. He turns to address you, "Now, thank you for coming to visit us today. I hope that it has proven a pleasurable experience and an insight into how a top boarding school operates. I will be happy to answer any questions you have, so please fire away."

Suddenly, in the corner of the room, you see a burst of flames, and smell burning - possibly something like burnt poultry. It looks like there is a little baby bird in the corner, sitting in the flames. There are also some colourful feathers scattered around nearby.

"What's that, sir?" you ask, looking inquisitively at Professor Dumbledore and pointing at the flames. He starts to reply, "Well, my dear visiting student, it is a -"

Professor Snape cuts in, "The Headmaster is experimenting with new recipes for the school meals. This is a chicken korma, which I believe is a Muggle delicacy best served with plain naan bread and pilau rice. I once enjoyed being offered a taste by...by Lily. Oh, Lily!" He breaks off, and Ruddle interrupts. He must be Voldemort as nobody else has such a pallid complexion and noseless face.

"I prefer a tikka masala with a peshwari naan, although I do agree about the pilau rice. Bella tries a different curry every time though - I can never keep up! But I'm sure the students will agree with me, at least those good enough to have been sorted into Slytherin. I've been told I have a very refined palette. Now, Professor Dumbledore, about the elder...er...tree..."

Dumbledore answers, "I have told you, Tom, this is not up for discussion!" You now know for absolutely certain that it is indeed Voldemort in front of you.

The Headmaster turns towards Professor Snape before he continues, "Thank you, Severus, you may leave and return to the dungeons."

"Yes, Headmaster," comes the voice of the Potions master as he leaves the office.

Dumbledore turns towards you, with a slightly menacing glint in his eye. "Now, I believe it is this visitor's last few moments in the castle before the end of the school day. Gilderoy, would you care to do the honours?"

You look at Lockhart, and notice his perfect, gleaming white teeth. "But Headmaster, nobody would want to forget an encounter with the great Gilderoy Lockhart! How would you feel if you had been made to forget me? A whole piece of your life, the most important part, would be missing! I'm sure she hasn't seen anything that we would need to make her forget about our magical existence!" At first you wonder what he means by this, then you realise. How could you forget a day like this, unless you were somehow made to forget?

"Sir, I don't ever want to forget today, I've had a brilliant time! I loved the Great Hall with the enchanted ceiling, and Potions was so much fun, even if I did somehow lose house points without being in a house! I even got engaged to Draco - his father would hear about it if you tried to make me forget that! I have to admit I didn't think much of the badminton lesson, and Professor Flitwick's reading material may not be quite suitable for the lower years of the school. You need to look at the plumbing though - I think there might be a Basilisk lurking in the pipes."

Voldemort looks even paler than before, and looks like he is about to speak before you carry on, "you might need to get some better control of the elves - there was a stray one roaming around looking for Harry Potter, and some of the students thought he was a cat, but I knew he wasn't! And seeing Fawkes reborn - amazing! This is such a great place, a magical place -"

Dumbledore looks stern as he interrupts, "You disappoint me once again, Gilderoy. I will have to do the deed myself." He draws a wooden stick from inside his cloak, and you realise that it is the Elder Wand! The Headmaster then points it at you. "Obliviate!" he cries, but as he does this, you see Voldemort diving towards him, seemingly trying to grab the wand. A jet of light shoots from it towards your hand - clearly not its intended target - and you feel a blunt pain as you fall backwards.

The next thing you know, you awaken in your bedroom. You feel like you have a headache, thinking you must have hit your head on something. But what? There's nothing in your room that heavy. You think back to the dream you just had. It felt so real. You wish you could have more dreams like that. As you move your leg, you notice something - a bright, colourful feather stuck to your shoe. It looks familiar - just like one of those you saw in the office in the dream. But no, it can't be - Hogwarts is just fantasy, isn't it?