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Harry Ploter and the Wizard’s Deal
In a universe slightly different from the one we know, Harry Ploter was not the tall, confident hero of legend. Instead, Harry was a dwarf—small in stature but with a heart as big as the Gryffindor common room. Despite his determination, life at the University of Magic was a struggle. Potions class was a disaster, transfiguration left him baffled, and his broomstick flights were more crashes than glides. His size and clumsiness made him the subject of quiet whispers and occasional snickers among his peers.
By his second year, Harry was losing hope. No matter how hard he tried, he felt as though the world of magic was simply not made for someone like him. One gloomy evening, while wandering through the library’s restricted section, Harry stumbled upon a peculiar-looking man hunched over a cauldron. The man’s crooked hat and flowing black robes gave him an ominous aura, but his face was friendly, albeit twisted with mischief.
A Strange Encounter
“Lost, are you?” the man said, his voice silky and laced with curiosity.
“I was just… looking for help,” Harry admitted, too tired to bother lying. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this place.”
The man, who introduced himself as Magnus Vesper, chuckled softly.
“Help, you say? I happen to specialize in helping students with… unique challenges.” His eyes sparkled, but there was something unsettling about them. “I could make you stronger, faster, smarter. Even change how people see you.”
Harry’s heart leapt. “You can do that?”
“Oh, certainly,” Magnus said with a sly grin. “I’m an expert in elixirs and transformations. But magic like that isn’t free. I would require… a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Harry asked, suddenly cautious.
Magnus leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Nothing too dangerous. I merely need you to prepare something for me every day. Something I adore, but few can get right.”
Harry tilted his head. “What is it?”
“Fresh mayonnaise,” Magnus said, his tone deadly serious. “Hand-whipped. Made with care and precision. I cannot abide the store-bought filth. In exchange, I’ll make you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
Harry blinked. “Mayonnaise? That’s it?”
Magnus nodded. “It is a sacred condiment, my boy. And a well-kept secret of power. Do we have a deal?”
Harry hesitated for a moment. The idea of spending his days whisking mayonnaise seemed ridiculous, but the promise of finally excelling in his studies—and maybe even gaining the respect of his peers—was too tempting to pass up. He extended his hand.
“Deal.”
The Transformation
The very next day, Magnus began his work. Using a combination of potions and spells, he crafted an elixir that not only enhanced Harry’s physical abilities but also sharpened his mind. Harry grew more confident, his spells became more precise, and his peers started to notice the change.
Magnus, true to his word, kept up his end of the bargain. But Harry quickly learned that the mayonnaise-making process was no joke. Every day, Magnus demanded a fresh batch, and it had to meet his impossibly high standards. If the consistency was off or the flavor wasn’t perfect, Harry was forced to start over.
“Do you even taste it?” Harry grumbled one morning, wiping sweat from his brow after his third failed attempt.
Magnus smirked.
“Perfection is its own reward, young Ploter. Besides, your efforts are honing your discipline. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Despite the absurdity of the situation, Harry couldn’t deny the results. His newfound abilities helped him master even the most challenging subjects. By the end of the semester, he was a top student in his class, and his professors praised his remarkable progress.
The Price of Power
But as the weeks turned into months, Harry began to notice strange side effects. His hands were perpetually greasy from the endless whisking, and he started to dream of mayonnaise chasing him through the halls of the castle. Worse, Magnus seemed to be growing more demanding.
“I need more, Harry,” Magnus said one evening, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light. “Double the batches. The elixirs I create require… sustenance.”
Harry realized that the deal he had made was far from simple. Magnus wasn’t just using the mayonnaise for sandwiches—he was infusing it into dark magic experiments, twisting its properties for unknown purposes. The once-friendly wizard now seemed more sinister, his motivations unclear.
A Recipe for Rebellion
As the year drew to a close, Harry decided he had had enough. He concocted a plan to break free of Magnus’s grasp. Using his newly acquired magical skills, he brewed a special batch of mayonnaise infused with a harmless but potent sleeping draught. When Magnus consumed it, he fell into a deep slumber, giving Harry the chance to confront him.
“Your obsession with mayonnaise ends now,” Harry declared, pouring the remaining batch into Magnus’s cauldron, neutralizing whatever dark magic he had been working on.
Freed from the wizard’s influence, Harry returned to his studies, more determined than ever to succeed on his own terms. Though the experience left him wary of making deals, it also taught him that his true strength lay not in transformations or shortcuts, but in his own perseverance.
And as for Magnus? He was last seen wandering the Forbidden Forest, mumbling about “the perfect aioli” and clutching a whisk.