The Dresden Files / Bob / #15. Disgust
Title: Sleight of Hand
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Young Harry, Justin Morningway
Prompt: 15. Disgust
Word Count: 645
Rating: G
Summary: Harry has a new hobby and Justin doesn't much like it.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Justin Morningway looked at his nephew with an expression of appalled disbelief. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Practicing!" said Harry with a grin. He picked up a pair of silver rings approximately 8 inches in diameter. "Watch! Nothing up my sleeve and then …" With a flourish, he waved the rings before his uncle then suddenly brought his hands together. The two very solid-looking hoops were now impossibly linked together. "Presto! Magic!"
Instead of the applause that Harry expected, his uncle's face turned a thunderous red.
Crossing the distance between them with angry strides, Morningway snatched the linking rings out of the boy's hands.
"This is NOT magic!" Morningway wrenched the flimsy rings apart with an audible SNAP of twisting metal. "It's a deceit. A trick perpetrated on the witless and gullible. This is magic!" With a twist of his wrist and an exertion of will, he turned the silver hoops into a pile of ash that drifted to the floor like filthy snow. "Power, Harry. That's what real magic is about. It doesn't come from trinkets and toys." He poked Harry hard in the shoulder with a pudgy finger. "It comes from inside."
"It was good enough for my Dad," said Harry defensively.
"You are not your father," countered his uncle. "Your gift is real; a testament to your mother's bloodline. The Morningway bloodline. Never forget that." Morningway glowered at the other baubles scattered across the card table. "Get rid of this trash," he said with contempt. "You've no time for foolish games. There are more important things to learn."
"It's not trash," said Harry sullenly, just as soon as his uncle was well out of earshot.
"One man's trash is another man's treasure," said a conciliatory voice. Materializing beside Harry, Bob looked down at the array of items. "Where did you find these things?"
"They came in a magic kit." Stooping down, he pulled the mail order box from under the table and showed it to the ghost. "I saw it in the back of a Doctor Strange comic book and saved up for it."
Bob thought that amusingly ironic, considering the monetary allowance Harry must have used to purchase the kit had originated with Justin Morningway.
"My Dad used some of these things is his act." Harry picked up a small red ball and placed it between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. With some effort, he rolled the ball one-handed until it was between his middle and ring fingers while making it appear as if a ball still remained in the original position - two balls from one! The effect lasted for about three seconds before the trick half-ball squirted out of place and dropped onto the table. "He was a lot better at this sort of thing," sighed Harry.
"No doubt because he had considerably more practice. It was his profession, after all."
"Do you think it's stupid?"
"What specifically? Your father's occupation or your awkward attempts to emulate him?"
"Both, I guess."
"In that case - neither."
"But Uncle Justin said-"
"-Nothing of worth," interrupted Bob tersely, "If he implied that a son should not revere his father's memory. Malcolm Dresden was not a true wizard but neither did he claim to be. An audience expects to be entertained by a stage magician. It does not matter to them whether the illusion is genuine magic or not; only that it suspends their disbelief for the duration of the performance."
"So you're okay with me practicing this stuff?"
"Absolutely."
"And you won't tell Uncle Justin?"
"You have my word." Bob motioned toward the fallen half-ball. "In fact, these trinkets might prove somewhat useful in your studies of true magic."
"How?"
"My dear Harry, even a wizard may benefit from the stage magician's art of sleight of hand and misdirection," Bob assured him with a conspiratorial smile.
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Young Harry, Justin Morningway
Prompt: 15. Disgust
Word Count: 645
Rating: G
Summary: Harry has a new hobby and Justin doesn't much like it.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Justin Morningway looked at his nephew with an expression of appalled disbelief. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Practicing!" said Harry with a grin. He picked up a pair of silver rings approximately 8 inches in diameter. "Watch! Nothing up my sleeve and then …" With a flourish, he waved the rings before his uncle then suddenly brought his hands together. The two very solid-looking hoops were now impossibly linked together. "Presto! Magic!"
Instead of the applause that Harry expected, his uncle's face turned a thunderous red.
Crossing the distance between them with angry strides, Morningway snatched the linking rings out of the boy's hands.
"This is NOT magic!" Morningway wrenched the flimsy rings apart with an audible SNAP of twisting metal. "It's a deceit. A trick perpetrated on the witless and gullible. This is magic!" With a twist of his wrist and an exertion of will, he turned the silver hoops into a pile of ash that drifted to the floor like filthy snow. "Power, Harry. That's what real magic is about. It doesn't come from trinkets and toys." He poked Harry hard in the shoulder with a pudgy finger. "It comes from inside."
"It was good enough for my Dad," said Harry defensively.
"You are not your father," countered his uncle. "Your gift is real; a testament to your mother's bloodline. The Morningway bloodline. Never forget that." Morningway glowered at the other baubles scattered across the card table. "Get rid of this trash," he said with contempt. "You've no time for foolish games. There are more important things to learn."
"It's not trash," said Harry sullenly, just as soon as his uncle was well out of earshot.
"One man's trash is another man's treasure," said a conciliatory voice. Materializing beside Harry, Bob looked down at the array of items. "Where did you find these things?"
"They came in a magic kit." Stooping down, he pulled the mail order box from under the table and showed it to the ghost. "I saw it in the back of a Doctor Strange comic book and saved up for it."
Bob thought that amusingly ironic, considering the monetary allowance Harry must have used to purchase the kit had originated with Justin Morningway.
"My Dad used some of these things is his act." Harry picked up a small red ball and placed it between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. With some effort, he rolled the ball one-handed until it was between his middle and ring fingers while making it appear as if a ball still remained in the original position - two balls from one! The effect lasted for about three seconds before the trick half-ball squirted out of place and dropped onto the table. "He was a lot better at this sort of thing," sighed Harry.
"No doubt because he had considerably more practice. It was his profession, after all."
"Do you think it's stupid?"
"What specifically? Your father's occupation or your awkward attempts to emulate him?"
"Both, I guess."
"In that case - neither."
"But Uncle Justin said-"
"-Nothing of worth," interrupted Bob tersely, "If he implied that a son should not revere his father's memory. Malcolm Dresden was not a true wizard but neither did he claim to be. An audience expects to be entertained by a stage magician. It does not matter to them whether the illusion is genuine magic or not; only that it suspends their disbelief for the duration of the performance."
"So you're okay with me practicing this stuff?"
"Absolutely."
"And you won't tell Uncle Justin?"
"You have my word." Bob motioned toward the fallen half-ball. "In fact, these trinkets might prove somewhat useful in your studies of true magic."
"How?"
"My dear Harry, even a wizard may benefit from the stage magician's art of sleight of hand and misdirection," Bob assured him with a conspiratorial smile.