I have always wished I was born another creature. How would it be, if I was born a unicorn, the complete opposite of myself? I would shine with joy and life, while others looked on longingly.
But… I was not born a unicorn. I was born a Thestral, a black, skinny, invisible Thestral. Invisibility has frustrated me for a long time. I would love it if a creature would look straight into my eyes, not just look through them.
Today is my third birthday. I know that soon Hagrid will come galumphing into our forest patch. “Oh, Furcifer!” he will trill, “I brought you cow!”
I think I will celebrate my own way, thank you very much.
The sunlight burns my eyes as I step out of the forest. Basking in the light, I spread my spindly wings and jump into the air. Nothing. Not even a drift. Being the youngest Thestral in our pack is really quite stressful. I have never soared above the trees as my uncle is doing right now. He dips in and out of branches as easily as if swimming in the lake. My heart yearns to join him.
Averting my gaze, I see a group of creatures coming out of huge glass huts. They look like centaurs without the bottom half. The creature’s bottom halves are black, and billow out around them. My mother calls these creatures children, while Hagrid calls them students. I’m not sure what to call them.
I think I will call them beans. They look very much like the beans Hagrid brought me a while ago. I think they were called Bertie beans or something?
Those beans he brought me were wonderful. My favorite tasted just like smoked centaur. I think I want some more beans. I set off at a gallop, my back feet pounding on the ground. I am rushing towards the nearest bean, but I feel someone watching me.
Over at Hagrid’s hut, Hagrid raises his eyebrows. He grins at me and winks. He puts a finger to his mouth. I think this means slow, or maybe hello. Who knows?
I raise one foot staring at my two toes. I place it on the ground as gently as I can. I then trot along very, very quietly. I don’t want the bean to become startled.
I’m almost there. I reach out my lips, grasping with yellow teeth, but the bean pulls away!
“Oy Hermione, wait up,” he calls to a bushy haired creature in front of him. As he hurries to catch up with the bean, I jump for my chance.
Before I reach the bean, I am soaring through the air. I’m flying! This is the most wonderful feeling! I try flapping my wings to stay airborne.
My head goes crashing into a stone wall, a terrible ending to a great ride. I look up to see a very shaken bean looking over at me. He has a piece of wood out and is pointing it at me. “Don’t you dare touch my friends,” he speaks slowly and clearly.
I put on my best pouty face, and walk slowly up to apologize. I use my super long tongue to lick his fingers. Blah! He is not a good tasting bean. I trot away into the castle.
Inside the castle, I lose my black haired bean friend. Searching for him, I gaze over all the colorful heads, so unlike my home. There are beans of every shape and color imaginable. They are all scurrying around like little bowtruckles fighting for wood lice.
As I open my mouth ready to lick the white bean scurrying in front of me, I notice a bean more colorful than anything I have ever seen. This bean floats just above my head singing tunelessly, while cackling with laughter.
“Firsties, Firsties are no fun, Firsties, Firsties you should run!”
The bean’s voice makes me cringe, yet he looks quite delectable. I stand on my hind legs, reaching with all my might. My plan is to knock the bean down and then proceed to eat it. Every time my leg flies up to knock it down, I miss! Every time! Now, this is quite frustrating.
In a huff, I blow wind (and maybe a little of something else) at the bean. With a scream of terror, he is being blown away. So much for that bean. The other beans seem a little nervous. There are shouts of “the Bloody Baron!” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds delicious.
Looking around for this bloody baron, I see a bean with bright red hair flowing over her shoulders. As every other thought is blown from my mind, I run up behind the bean, ready to close my teeth around her hair. As I open my mouth, I am thwarted once again. The bean’s hair whips me in the face as she starts to amble away.
I follow closely behind the bean, but its hair continues to sway back and forth as it walks. I will just wait until the bean stops, and then it will be feasting time.
Finally! We have stopped moving. The bean sits down in the back of a room. There are many other beans in this room, and even a bean at the front who seems to be giving a lecture. I don’t like lectures, and an advantage of being invisible is, I don’t have to listen! I decide that the bean will taste better in pieces. Just a little nibble at the end will do the trick.
As I am chewing my little bit of bean hair, I notice a blonde bean staring right at me. This is not the usual, stare through me I get from most beans. She is looking deep into my eyes, though rather eerily. I try to concentrate on the hair in my mouth. It tastes like grass, chopping up my mouth, and making it hard to swallow. I spit out the wad of half-digested bean. These beans are really, not very good.
As I start to make my way out of the room, the blonde bean waves good-bye, and blows me a kiss. That is one creepy bean.
Strolling along the dark corridors, I see a bean strolling, no strutting down the hallway. She has long dark hair that flows out behind her. Her skin is dark, though not as dark as mine.
She keeps one hand clasped at her hip. The other, she keeps by her side with the fingers pointing outwards. She shakes her backside as she walks, and turns every so often to see if anyone has noticed her. I follow her as she walks, every so often stopping to imitate how she swaggers.
In the entrance hall, I hear beans chatting and coming towards me. I stand on my back two legs, putting my front hoof on my hip. I bend my arm slightly, while trying to keep the other arm next to my body. The hardest part is trying to walk. I am not used to walking on two legs. I try to keep my legs apart while walking, but my knees keep jostling together.
I hear running footsteps, and the blonde bean from class runs in. She is dragging another bean with her. This bean has pink cheeks, and is huffing to keep up with her. The blonde bean stares protuberantly at me, wondering what I must be doing.
A chuckle escapes the other bean’s mouth. This is my incentive to continue my imitation, despite the pain in my legs. I love entertaining everyone, even beans.
As I continue my charade, adding a few bum shakes, I hear a slow but distinct clapping noise. I turn to see a tall white bean with hair that covers his face. He is bringing his hands together, amusement glowing in his eyes.
I fall onto all four legs, my heart filling with pride. I swear my black cheeks are gaining color. As a content grunt escapes my lips, I unfurl my wings and push off with my back feet.
I fly out of the castle, the soft sound of applause thrusting me forward over the treetops, dipping in and out of branches as easily as if swimming in the lake.