Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
My Wife is a Witch?
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
Tyrone Finnigan had made up his mind that he was never going to drink again. He had only had a couple of beers at the pub that night, but he was quite certain that that was quite enough, especially considering that he was quite sure that he'd seen the dishes levitating above the sink and washing themselves. And now, to top it all off, his wife was attempting to make him believe that she was a witch. Yes, he had had enough to drink that night.
Brigid Finnigan wasn't one of those new age hippy types, so he was quite certain that that wasn't the type of witch she was on about. And he was quite certain that she could be rather a witch when he spent a little too much time at the pub instead of coming straight home after work, but he was quite sure that that wasn't what she meant either.
Then, in order to clarify what she meant, she pulled out a stick of wood, waved it and promptly turned the television into a mouse and back again.
Tyrone groaned and decided to go back on his earlier resolution. Considering what had just happened, he thought himself perfectly entitled to another drink – preferably a strong one.