One Wish

One Wish

This is his chance to save Sirius.

. . . Isn’t it?

    Harry sighed as he looked around the sweltering attic layered with dust. He could see particles of it floating in the shaft of sunlight that pierced the gloom of the paned glass coated with grime and wondered if this wasn’t some kind of health code violation, particularly since he’d be locked up here until the Dursleys decided to let him down.

    He took in the multitude of dusty cardboard boxes and considered calling the fire marshal too. This was certainly ideal kindling for a blaze and he had no wish to be living in a fire waiting to happen. Yet considering how long he could possibly be up here, it might be interesting to go through the boxes. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure--he might find something of value.

    Kneeling gingerly to avoid stirring up too much of the cobweb-like dust, he began to dig through the first box. It was full of very old toys--some broken, some intact--that had once belonged to Dudley. The second held dishes that seemed to be in good shape aside from their age--probably the victim of Aunt Petunia’s need to get the newest china to keep her standing among all her friends.

    The third box held a collection of brass items. Some inexplicable sense drew him to the bottom of the box, where he found a medium-sized statue of a kneeling woman. She was dressed in the style of someone from India and appeared to be blowing across her hand.

    Curious, Harry turned her carefully over and noticed some tiny writing on her back. He rubbed at the etchings with his thumb and nearly dropped the statue when a cloud of glittery white smoke emitted from the statue’s mouth, floated across the outstretched hand, and took the flesh-and-blood form of the statue.

    " You rubbed?" the woman asked.

    Harry stared. " . . . Who are you?"

    " Eh? Oh. They call me Shalimar."

    " . . . Are . . . Are you a genie?"

    She wrinkled her nose. " I prefer the term ‘wish goddess.’"

    He rolled his eyes. " . . . Right."

    " Look, kid, I sit around in that statue for centuries waiting for someone to call me out. I’ve had time to think about the appropriateness of the title, okay? So if you don’t like it, tough."

    " So you are a genie?"

    " If you insist on using that word, then yes, I am."

    " Do I get three wishes?"

    " Sure."

    Harry wondered what to wish for. He could wish the Dursleys away or, even better, wish that they had magic powers just like him. It would mortify them and he would get a laugh out of it.

    Speaking of laughs, maybe he could wish Malfoy was a girl. The image was priceless and he chuckled. Then again, he could wish for Snape to be nice. Though the image of that was rather unnerving.

    Better yet, he could also wish for Voldemort’s death. That would be a real treat--to kill the evil wizard without lifting a finger . . .

    Abruptly, a thought came to him.

    Unbidden but for the mention of death.

    Sirius . . .

    He could wish Sirius back to life!

    " I have a wish!"

    " Whoa, emerald-eyes, there are rules to follow. Every deal has its catch."

    This didn’t sound good. " . . . Okay then. What are the rules?"

    She began to tick them off on her fingers.

    " One, no making someone fall in love with you. I don’t like forcing people into that anyway--it’s wrong. Two, no killing people. That’s why I got stuck in this situation in the first place--by killing. Three, no bringing people back from the dead. Now, there is a---"

    Harry felt his heart break. His best chance to save Sirius was gone.

    " Hey, emerald-eyes, why such a long face all of the sudden?"

    He swallowed the lump in his throat. " I wanted . . . to . . . to wish someone back to life. He was very dear to me, and . . ."

    She clucked and patted him on the head like he was a child. " Let me finish, sweetie. You assume things too quickly. Rule three is no dead to life, but there is a way to circumvent that."

    " There is?" he asked, hope returning. He could wish Sirius back!

    " Yep."

    " Well what is it?!" he demanded.

    " The death must be unnatural."