Snippet: a Potteresque Kids' Tale

The magic was coming to an end now, and the black goddess' form was slowly solidifying from the ether. Sir Bastacle, still handcuffed to the pole, was anxiously trying to loosen the bonds that held him. What plan, what notion, what deed could save them now?
It was such slow work picking the locks, he thought. There must be some other way to bring these dastardly proceedings to a stop. Then it struck him - if she couldn't be stopped by physical means, then how about by mental?
He noticed Flitsworth, that evil, that wicked, that thoroughly MODERN mage had conveniently turned his back on the helpless captives. Was it now the time to abandon all that was fair, all that was just, and all that was right, and attack a man from behind? Bastacle decided it was...