Wizardry Is a Hazardous Endeavor

Last night there was a fierce battle in our home. My young Harry Potter versus a throng of invisible Death Eaters. It was grand, and there would be injuries on both sides. In the process of casting one mighty spell, young Harry wanded himself in the eye. Lacking quick access to Madam Pomfrey and also suffering the ancillary injury of being unable to apparate to the Hogwards infirmary, we did the next best thing: we plopped our wounded wizard into the mini van and drove to the emergency room.

There, intriguingly, the glow-in-the-dark medicine they drip into wounded eyes revealed a vertical corneal abrasion that, lit up like that, resembled the scary snake pupil of Nagini, the snake of He Who Cannot Be Named. You know what that means, don’t you? Voldemort has left another mark on The Boy Who Lived! Thus, today, my little Harry awaits the onset of what surely is his new and very powerful ability to speak Parseltongue.