Emma Watson Shares a Personal Secret

London, England –

The talented and attractive 19-year-old, Emma Watson, who plays the rambunctious and worldly “Hermione Granger” in the world famous “Harry Potter” movie series recently recounted to a women’s fashion magazine one of her most personal and revealing secrets, a moment held precious and dear to every young woman’s heart, as she blossoms into womanhood: the first time she discovers she is a millionaire.

“Although it was a couple of years ago when I was 17, it feels like it just happened yesterday,” said Emma Watson reading a passage from her diary as she recalled the day her father sat her down and had the talk – the money talk -- with her.

“Sit down, Emma,” he said to me, patting a spot on my bed, inviting me to take-up a seat next to him.

The walls of Emma’s room were typical for a teenager. All covered in ‘Harry Potter’ movie premiere posters, except she was in them all, dating back to the first film when she was only a prepubescent kid and autographed by all her co-stars and J.K. Rowling.

“Why? What is it, daddy?” said Emma as she stopped brushing her hair and sat next to her father. “This not about ‘The Talk’, again, is it? Because mummy already had that conversation with me.”

“No, it’s not about ‘The Talk’,” said Mr. Watson making air quotes with his fingers which made Emma laugh out loud as he looked around the room, trying not to look intimidated by the ‘Harry Potter’ posters that surrounded him, serving as a constant reminder of his daughter fortune and fame. “Although I’m relieved you and your mother already discussed that.”

“I understand --” said Emma Watson before she was cut off mid sentence by her father who seemed hesitant and distracted.

“It took the pressure off me,” said Mr. Watson with a big gulping sound emanating from his throat.

“What is it, daddy?” said a concerned looking Emma as she inched closer to her father, reaching out for his hand, hoping to help him overcome his anxiety that was apparent to both of them.

“Emma, I’ve been keeping a horrible secret from you,” said Mr. Watson.

“What, daddy?” said Emma. “You can tell me.”

“Well, you know how I’ve only been giving you $75.00 a week for your allowance for doing your chores around the house and whatnot?”

“Yes, daddy,” said Emma Watson. “But it’s alright. It’s not your fault. It’s all you can afford. I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, well. About that --” said Mr. Watson.

“If only J.K. Rowling would pay more than $10,000 per movie. If you ask me she’s the witch. And that rhymes with [BLEEP]!” said an enraged Emma Watson.

“Listen, umm, dear. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” said Mr. Watson, trying to calm his daughter down

“Imagine cheating me, a little girl, and all these years. Like, like that,” continued Emma. “Paying me a mere $10,000 per movie like that. Isn’t that what you said she pays me, daddy?”

“What was that, dear?” said Mr. Watson taken aback by the rapid dissipation of his daughter normally mild mannered demeanor.

“I said, isn’t that what she has been paying all these years?” repeated Emma but now in a demanding tone.

“Oh, yes. That’s about right,” said Mr. Watson. “Just $10,000 dollars a movie, dear.”

“I wish that rich [BLEEP] would leave her castle in Scotland for once,” said Emma as she grabbed a stuffed animal from her pillow. “I swear I’d like to wrap my fingers around her throat and…”

“Emma! Emma! Emma!” screamed Mr. Watson as he reached out for his daughter, her hands locked around the throat of her favorite Teddy Bear, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Who wore a black leather silver studded biker jacket with matching cap.

“I swear I’ll never do another ‘Harry Potter’ movie ever again!” said Emma.

“Stop it, Emma! Stop it,” begged Mr. Watson. “Besides, I’ve been putting money aside, saving it up for you.”

“What could you have possibly saved with what I earned after taxes, acting lessons and giving me my $75.00 weekly allowance?” said Emma as she tossed her beheaded and disemboweled Teddy Bear against the wall and then proceeded to teardown her all her collectable ‘Harry Potter’ posters.

“Forty-two million dollars!” reluctantly yelled out Mr. Watson. “Now for god sakes, get a hold of yourself. You’re acting like the typical American teenage girl. After all, remember. You’re British.”

Emma sat down silently beside her father again, her hair covering her eyes.

“Where is it?” Emma asked calmly, the only evidence of her emotional outburst the ripped up ‘Harry Potter’ posters and white fiber stuffing from her former Teddy Bear, Dumbledore, which clung to her hair in clumps.

“Right here,” said Mr. Watson as he reached behind his back, producing a pink piggy bank.

“Forty-two million dollars fit into that?” asked a disbelieving Emma, weighing the pink piggy bank in her hand, peeking inside.

“It’s in very large denominations,” said Mr. Watson, wiping away beads of sweat from his forehead.

“Huh. Oh. Okay,” said Emma as she placed the piggy bank on her dresser, next to her Teddy Bear’s beheaded body and Mickey Mouse novelty phone. “I’ll count it later.”

“Now you must promise me, Emma,” said Mr. Watson as he rose up and walked to her bed room door. “You must not break open 'Mrs. Piggy' Bank until you’re 21, okay?”

“Why, daddy?” asked Emma as she began picking up her room.

“Because…” said Mr. Watson as he hesitated, searching his mind for an answer. “It’s bad luck?”

“Oh. Okay,”’ said Emma pausing for a moment in thought before she shrugged her shoulder and continued picking up her room.

Outside Emma’s room Mr. Watson is approached by Mrs. Watson.

“Well, did she believe you?” asked a concerned Mrs. Watson.

“For now,” said Mr. Watson.

“That gives us just four more years to raise the 42 million dollars we've spent,” said Mrs. Watson.

“Either that, or time for 'Mrs. Piggy' bank to take a little road trip to the butcher’s shop, eh,” said Mr. Watson, making air qoutes with his fingers again.

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo