Some people are big fans of storybooks.
You could tell how much they loved the stories by how much their eyes lighten up (or widen out) when you try to act out scenes from the books.
When we read wonderfully-written stories, we became immersed in it - soaking its very details - time of the day, the scenes, the dialogues, what the characters were thinking, the smells, our own emotions, feelings – as if we're really there, in our own fantasy magical land.
Yesterday morning, during our clown round in Ward 8B, we met Ms Granger.
Hermoine Granger.
She was much taller than I previously thought (she was sitting down when we met her a few weeks earlier).
Much, much taller. (Or maybe that I'm just short, but let's not dwell on that debatable subject for the moment).
Not surprisingly, she still didn't like DR Donno. DR Donno scared her. It could be that DR Donno reminds her of Professor Sprout, which doesn't makes sense (real name: Pamona Sprout - a witch who worked as Head of Hufflepuff House and Head of the Herbology department at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - yes I just googled that), since they are both in the same team fighting against you-know-who. But then much of the things that happen today don't make much sense anyway, let alone those that happened in the storybooks. So we'll just have to live with this fact for now, thus DR Donno had to stay outside.
Worried that DR Donno would try to sneak in and spoil the mood, DR Bubbles closed the door - with a spell! How? By waving the kitchen sink plunger wand! – what a great way to begin our little wizardry scene!
I could still see DR Donno, er, - Professor Sprout - jumping up and down trying get in, peeking through the door's glass window. That spell will keep her out for now.
Slowly I looked around, and saw quite a number of muggles in the room. A baby boy was crying at one end. Them muggles would probably thought it's the medicine that he despised, but in fact it's because of, later, the boy would see Professor Sprout turning into a green frog before his very own eyes!
There was one middle-aged man lying on his side, head propped by his left hand, comfortablely lying on the bed opposite side of Hermoine's. In front of him was a woman, keenly watching us. And I thought this was a childrens' ward, I said. They chuckled. Muggles are funny.
I turned back to Hermoine. Somehow I could not remember much what exactly happened after we invited ourselves into her ward, but I do remember finding myself now speaking with a strong scouse accent (read: Liverpool, Merseyside) and DR Bubbles talking about some Yorkshire pudding in a strange Yorkshire accent! Yes love, alright love!
Once I pulled myself together, I looked up to DR Bubbles and said, "Alright then Ron, let's ask Ms Granger here to teach us a few spells!" (with that I have established my self as, ehem - Harry - to much of DR Bubbles annoyance and to my own slight delight and amazement of my quick-witted mouth, – but then the first person speaking has the first right of choice haha!)
Or was it Ron who said that.
Anyway — Ah, yes, teach us a few spells Ms Granger! (Her mother could not helped laughing. She was sitting there all along, watching these two, ehem - boys, trying to be clever).
Again, I cannot remember the exact details of how many spells were disposed by Ron, or myself, or how many times we changed Professor Sprout into a green frog by casting spells through the ward's glass windows (wait a minute - on second thought, I could be under some Memory Charm spell by you-know-who!)
Finally, we had to leave, because Professor Sprout kept knocking on the glass window, pointing to her wrist. She could be saying:
One: I've lost my watch, or
Two: Check out my now green frog tan, thanks to you idiots very much, or
Three: Time to go, - Quidditch!
Two: Check out my now green frog tan, thanks to you idiots very much, or
Three: Time to go, - Quidditch!
We pretty much thought that it's the case of number Three, but we kept ignoring her – it's much more fun that way haha!
Before we left, Ron asked for a (gasp!) slimming spell! No, he's not happy with his A2 paper-sized waistlength (earlier, we were made known by a friend about Korean girls obsessions in trying to get their waist to fit into an A4 paper portrait!)
Hermoine obliged, but seemed slightly unamused - maybe too easy for her. But to my surprise the chant was just one syllable, and not even latin!
It sounded like this:
"Sliiiiiiiiimmmm...!"
"Slim? Is that it?"
"No, it's SLIIIIIIIIIMMMM...!" said Hermoine, as she moved both her hands down in a quick gesture.
"No, it's SLIIIIIIIIIMMMM...!" said Hermoine, as she moved both her hands down in a quick gesture.
"Ah, it's Sliiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmm...!"
We gingerly said goodbye and left the ward, enlightened by the slimming spell: feeling 40kgs lighter, light and bright, as if floating like little birds chirping their way out of the ward.
Thank you Hermoine.
You didn't just give us the slimming spell, or a few pointers on spells and chants, but rather, – a chance for us clowns to live, breathe, and act out our 'wicked' wizardry fantasy moments.
And of course, most importantly – a chance to turn DR Donno into a green frog.
Bliss.