Magic rattle

No one remembers where the tradition came from in the Potter family to give their children the same silver rattle as their first toy. There was nothing special about it: a regular ball with small stones inside on a completely simple handle, without engravings or patterns. The only thing that made it different was that the toy seemed slightly heavier than a regular silver rattle and shimmered with a green hue under the rays of the sun. James Potter used to call it Nakvadah in his childhood. Why it had such a strange name, James had long forgotten. Little Harry Potter liked this noisy and shiny thing. It was always with him and seemed to fulfill his wishes. One day, Harry really wanted the long white beard of a cheerful and kind grandfather to turn yellow like Chicken Little in his picture book. Chicken Little was not as cool as a big deer or a black dog, but Harry still liked him. The little one shook the toy, listening to the rattling stones inside, and the grandfather’s beard actually turned the shade of yellow that Harry wanted to see. When he started shaking the rattle harder in excitement, the color changed the hair, skin, and clothes of the grandfather. Mom called this color canary yellow. Harry couldn’t understand the connection to canaries, he just wanted to see his favorite chick. That evening, Dad and Uncle Padfoot laughed loudly and said that Harry would grow up to be a worthy mischief-maker. He didn’t understand again, but since the adults were having fun, he joined in with joy. Since then, during each visit from his grandfather, Harry greeted him with the lively sound of the rattle, and he would become like Chicken Little. Everyone around would laugh and Harry was happy to see his favorite adults smiling and affectionately patting him on the head. On Christmas, Dad turned into a deer and carried Harry on his back. Harry laughed heartily, holding onto the animal’s neck until Dad returned to human form. Sitting on the couch in the living room, Harry eagerly shook the rattle, expressing his excitement, and his dad grew antler-like branches on his head. Uncle Padfoot almost burst his stomach from laughing that evening, even Mom and the grandfather couldn’t hold back and laughed at Dad’s antlers and Uncle’s jokes. And even though Harry was still little, he noticed: every time they were having fun, the rattle was nearby. So, it brings happiness to other people, just like to him. One gloomy spring day, Harry forgot the rattle in his crib. At first, he expected the adults to give him his favorite toy, but they didn’t realize Harry’s desire. He remembered how much joy his rattle brings to everyone and became even more sad because nothing funny happened that day. Eventually, the toy flew to him on its own, and Harry never parted with it again. One evening, Dad made Uncle Padfoot stumble, and he funny nodded his head, trying to keep his balance. Harry laughed, fell on his back, and kicked and waved his arms, one of which had a rattle. Uncle Padfoot stumbled again, comically waving his hands, and since then he stumbled much more often near Harry. Harry and his dad found it very funny, and Uncle Padfoot smirked mischievously every time. However, one day, when Uncle Padfoot fell and broke his nose, no one laughed. Harry didn’t like that his beloved uncle was in pain, and he was very upset. He rubbed his teary eyes with his little fists, holding onto his rattle, and didn’t immediately notice that Uncle Padfoot suddenly got drenched with water from an unknown source and shook his head like a dog. It became clear to everyone that Uncle Padfoot, soaked in water, was much funnier. After Harry turned one year old, his parents took away his rattle, deciding that he was already too grown up for such a simple toy. Harry woke up and couldn’t find it anywhere, and he felt very sad. The grandfather who came to visit didn’t turn into Chicken Little, Uncle Padfoot wasn’t splashed with water, and horns didn’t grow on Dad’s head. Nothing interesting ever happened in Harry’s life without his beloved toy. He knew it for sure. And even the big black dog, which Uncle Padfoot turned into to cheer him up, couldn’t lift his spirits. And at the end of the day, Harry cried so bitterly that his parents took pity on him and gave him back his rattle. Harry giggled and clapped his hands, rejoicing at the return of his “friend,” and the hair of everyone present, including Harry himself, turned a life-affirming orange color. Harry really wanted the adults to be able to share his joy! On the day when the house was decorated with pumpkins, a stranger came to them, and Harry’s parents were genuinely frightened. Mom took the baby to the room, closed the door, pushed a chair and boxes against it. She hugged Harry tightly and told him that she loved him very much. Then the door swung open. The same person who had scared the adults stood on the threshold. Mom put Harry in the crib and shielded him, spreading her arms. “Just not Harry, please, not him!” “Get out of the way, silly girl! Get out of the way!” “Please, just not Harry… Kill me instead… Me!” “For the last time, I warn you…” “Please, just not Harry, spare him… Just not Harry! Just not Harry! Please, I’ll do anything…” “Get out! Get out, girl…” The green light flashed, and his mother fell to the floor. Throughout all this time, Harry never cried once. He could already stand, holding onto the bars of his crib, and with cheerful curiosity, he looked into the stranger’s face—maybe he thought it was his father hiding under the cloak and would now show him more beautiful lights, and his mother would peek out from behind the closet with laughter… His rattle was with him, he held it tightly in his little hand, which meant everything would be alright. But his mother lay on the floor without moving. That’s when Harry decided that his mother was in pain and had fallen asleep. He remembered when he had a stomachache, his mother would soothe him with her warm hand until he fell asleep. Now, the green light and the stranger were to blame. In front of him stood a bad, frightening person. Harry understood this and started to cry. The stranger pointed his wand at Harry, saying something unintelligible, and another green light shot out from it. Harry didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t want the light to hit him and cause him pain. But unexpectedly, the beam of the spell collided with the pure, bright magic of Harry, which came from his magical rattle, and the sacrificial magic from his mother. The baby closed his eyes from the bright flash and didn’t see how the scary person was destroyed. Trying to stand on his own, Harry opened his hand, releasing his toy. He held onto the bars of his crib more tightly, the rattle fell to the floor and rolled towards the wall, where it would be forgotten for many years.