Teal'c looked at Sam expectantly, and she hesitated, sitting down on the edge of the bed she'd claim as hers.
"You see, Teal'c… we brought you here because we thought-"
"Eh!"
Jack held up his hand, negating his own role in things.
"That is… I thought… you might have a better understanding of how the whole Harry Potter thing works. See… we're at a convention. A Harry Potter convention."
"Convention?"
"It's where the fans for a particular genre – such as science fiction, or fantasy, or pretty much anything – all get together to talk about whatever it is they're a fan of with others who share similar interests," Daniel explained. "Such as – in this case – this Harry Potter kid."
"The books," Sam corrected. "The people at this convention are all fans of the books – the same ones I gave you to read – and are here to get together with other fans of the Harry Potter books and talk about them and the woman who wrote them."
"J.K. Rowling."
Sam nodded.
"Yes."
"A wise woman… although the wizarding world must be truly put out with her if so many people know about them…"
Jack closed his eyes with a sigh, and Sam looked over at Daniel, hoping for a little help.
"There isn't a wizarding world, Teal'c," Daniel said. "This Rowling woman made it up. It only exists in her mind."
"Why then would so many people come to celebrate the telling of the Histories?"
"Why do people go to Star Wars conventions?" Jack asked, losing patience with the whole mess. Teal'c was just being incredibly stubborn, and Jack was tired of beating around the bush. "Or Star Trek conventions? They're all a bunch of crack pots that need to grow up and move out of their parents' houses and realize there's no space ships and… aliens…"
He trailed off, realizing that his argument wasn't all that great. Especially since he was talking to an alien and had flown in several different kinds of space ships.
"There's no such thing as magic," he said, finally. "It's made up. Like the Loch Ness Monster and Big Foot."
"Who?"
"Never mind," Daniel said, quickly. The last thing they needed was to add to the mess they already had. Next thing you knew, they be in the forests around Seattle looking for Big Foot. "Jack's right, Teal'c. Magic isn't real."
Teal'c looked at Jack and Daniel for a moment, and for just a second, Daniel thought they might have had him convinced. Then he got that stubborn look in his expression that they all knew so well, and he lifted his chin just a hair.
"You are Muggles. That is what you are supposed to believe."
"Oh for crying out loud…"
Jack headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Daniel asked.
"I'm going to find something to eat."
"What about…"
"We'll let him see what's going on around here," Jack said, shrugging. "If he still doesn't figure it out, we'll get this Roman woman to tell him the truth."
"Rowling," Sam corrected, automatically.
"Whatever." He stopped at the door with his hand on the knob, frustration obvious in his expression and in the way he was standing. "Sign him up for some of the events they have going on, just make sure you stay with him. The last thing I need is for him to wander off and start a Harry Potter cult or something."
Carter nodded.
"Yes, sir. I'll get a schedule from the desk…"
"You do that. I'll see you guys later."
"Where are you going to be?" Daniel asked.
"Someplace where there's a lot of alcohol and no little kids."
With that he left the room, closing the door behind him firmly, plainly telling all of them that he didn't want company.
Sam sighed, and looked at Teal'c, who simply looked back at her.
"O'Neill seems upset."
"Yeah."
"Perhaps he needs a cheering charm."
Daniel stared at him, unsure what he was talking about, and Sam just sighed again.
"He's not the only one."
OOOOOOOO
Grumbling under his breath about stubborn Jaffa who just wouldn't listen to reason, O'Neill headed back the way they'd come. He'd seen a sign on the way into the hotel pointing out the bar and grill and figured that would be a good place to get something to eat, something to drink and try and regain just a little of his composure. This whole thing was so crazy that he felt like he was on some kind of candid camera show – except there was no way anyone would pull that kind of stunt with him. Or with Teal'c for that matter. Jaffa were not known for their sense of humor, after all, and neither was Jack.
Still annoyed, he made it to the elevator just as the door was opening, and a single boy jumped out at him, waving a stick at him with a flourish. Probably twelve, wearing a now familiar cloak, dark rimmed glasses and with a scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt – and what the heck was that all about? – the boy had obviously been waiting to catch someone off guard.
"Gotcha!" He yelled, waving the stick again. "Take that, Voldemort!"
O'Neill scowled, reached out and grabbed the stick from the kid before he even realized what was happening. His annoyance with Teal'c and his own lack of enjoyment at being ambushed by anyone – even a kid – took over, and with a quick motion he snapped the stick in two, breaking it over his knee with a resounding crack that echoed through the hall way. Then he handed the broken ends back to the shocked boy, feeling just a little bit better than he had a minute ago.
Without a word, he stepped past the boy and into the elevator, just as the door was about to close.
"Take that, Voldemort. Whoever you are."
