The three friends entered the old school library. The girl sat down at the long table while the two boys perused the book shelves.
“I love this room,” said the boy with the glasses. “It reminds me of a wizard’s library.”
His friend laughed. “Everything reminds you of wizards.”
The boy with the glasses scanned the shelves. “Too bad there aren’t enough books on wizardry.”
“Maybe you can write a book about wizards,” his friend said.
The boy with the glasses looked at the shelves. He envisioned a set of books with his name on it. “Not one book, but seven,” he said. “And I won’t be writing them.”
“Some poor soul will do it then.”
“But she will be poor no longer!”
“Fabulous!” His friend nodded towards the girl. “Will we all be in them?”
The boy with the glasses rubbed the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. “Of course!”
His friend looked back at the girl. His blush blended with his red hair. “So tell me; who will get the girl?”
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