Harry Potter Fanwork
Harry Potter and the Doppelganger’s Dilemma
I’m Thomas, an eleven year-old boy from the Midwest...Missouri to be exact. Being trapped in rural America for my whole life has given my parents this sudden inclination to travel, so here I am, standing in a train station in London as my parents soak in the sights and sounds of something other than our corn fields and farm animals. I’m not used to the hustle and bustle of London, and it’s quite shocking to actually be here after only watching a brief documentary about it earlier this year. I grab my bags off the train and start wheeling it through the crowd to keep up with my parents. Shoving through the crowd, all I hear is weird accents and the occasional call for train boarding. I notice some of the people that keep staring at my scar on my forehead that got last week when I tripped down the stairs (dumb move, I know). Maybe they keep staring because it’s in the shape of a lightning bolt? Sheesh, I didn’t think it was that noticeable. Maybe it’s just a London thing?
Just as I begin to get used to all the blatant staring, I realize that I’ve lost my parents in the sea of people that pass by. Surely an adult can help me out. I walk over to the nearest family and nudge them to get their attention. This red-haired family had more members than I could even fathom. “Excuse me, I’ve lost my parents,” I tell the mother of family. She immediately looks at my scar and a look of shock wipes across her face. “What is up with these people?”, I thought to myself. The mother immediately goes into a frenzy to make sure that I am alright. “My dear boy, I know about your parents. They are heroes!”, she proclaims. These people must really hold rural American farmers to a high standard. She then leads me to a brick wall where her family has relocated to. I meet her son, Ron, who seems to be a nice kid. Only thing is, this kid was carrying around a rat, treating it as if it were a human or something. Other than that, he seemed alright. I proceeded to meet the rest of the family, who were all nice people.
Just as I was beginning to warm up to this family, one of the twins, Fred, did something that left my mouth agape. Right as I had looked up at him, he literally walked through the brick wall that we were standing against. I took off my circular glasses and rubbed my eyes in utter disbelief of what I had just seen. “Maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.” I thought, as I placed my glasses back on. Then, almost as if to mock me, Ron went through the wall as well. I thought I had seen it all, until I turned around and saw what seemed to be me. An oddly dressed boy who looked as if he were my twin walked up to me. His height, build, and even his glasses were almost identical. As he reached his hand out to introduce himself, I realized that he even had the same scar in the same spot! He kindly introduced himself as Harry.
