It was just after sunset on Halloween. An orange glow lingered in the western sky above the roofs of the town. A young couple, the mother dressed as Minerva McDonagal in a black pointed hat and matching floor-length robe, and the father sporting Hagrid’s tangled beard and wild hair, were taking their two children trick-or-treating.
The little boy was dressed as Harry Potter, in a black robe with a red lining, and the girl was got up as Hermione Granger in a black cardigan, a white shirt, and a striped tie.
There were already a good many treats in the kids’ orange treat bags- Peanut Butter Cups, Twix Chocolate Caramels, Junior Mints, and Hershey Bars- by the time they got to the tall Victorian house set back from the street on a large lot that ended in a stand of beeches which had already lost their leaves. Mr. Bates rang the bell, and after a moment a gaunt old man in a brown cardigan opened the door,
“Trick or treat! Trick or treat! “the children clamored.
The old man showed his yellow teeth. “Trick,” he said.
The children looked confused. Mrs. Bates said, “I’m sorry?”
The old man’s smile flattened to a sneer. “I’d rather have a trick than give you a treat.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Bates said.
“Absolutely!” said the old man. “Your brats are trying to pull an extortion scheme, like the Mafia. Well, surprise, surprise! Not a chance! In the first place, those pagan Harry Potter books are a threat to American religious values. And in the second place, you interrupted my supper. So play your stupid trick and get off my porch.”
“As you wish, sir,” said Mr. Bates. He pulled s black wand out of his overcoat pocket and pointed it at the angry geezer. “Evanescere!” he shouted. There was a pop, and the old man vanished.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish, said Mrs.Bates. The family walked to the next house.
