fiction!
Hey, everyone! So, I went home for the weekend two weeks ago for a family reunion, and then TRAINING happened, so that whole wfmad thing I was doing? Yeah, not so much. HOWEVER.
I have decided to reread the whole of the Harry Potter series right through - I'm already three chapters into Chamber of Secrets, and I just started last night! In celebration or something of that, I've decided to post another one of my fanfics. This one is different. It edges into the territory of rpf (real person fic, for those of you not in the know), but it's not creepy or anything.
I started this story back in creative writing class my senior year of college. I don't know if I ever finished it for that class. If I did, the ending has been lost forever; however, I finished it earlier this summer, and here it is!
Title: When Harry Met Jo, or, An explanation for the epilogue
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG, for a naughty word or two
It was a beautiful June day in London, and a woman named Jo was at a bookstore. However, this was no typical day. Jo is J. K. Rowling, the British author of the best-selling Harry Potter series. On that fine day, Jo was signing copies of her latest book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - the seventh and final Harry Potter book - when someone walked into the store...
“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT’S HARRY POTTER!” the fangirls screamed as they followed Harry - yes, that’s right, Harry James Potter - into the bookstore.
“Yes, ladies,” said Harry - no - proclaimed Harry, “it is I.”
Jo looked up from the book she was signing. “Who hired the Harry Potter impersonator?” she asked her publicist, Mark. Mark, however, couldn’t answer as he had swooned upon seeing Harry.
“I am no impersonator,” Harry declared as he walked towards Jo, leaving a trail of hysterical fangirls, some of them unconscious, in his wake. “I do, however, have bloody strong arms. Watch!” He grabbed three copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and lifted them above his head.
“OH MY GOD!” screamed a fangirl. “He doesn’t even break a sweat!” With that, she swooned.
Jo laughed. “It’s not that heavy, you know. It’s only three kilos.”
No one heard her, though, because the fangirls who had previously swooned had awoken and begun fawning over Harry’s muscles.
“Oh, wow, he’s so strong!” screamed the youngest fangirl, collapsing.
Harry dropped the books on Mark and caught the fangirl before she hit the floor. “Don’t worry - I’ve got you,” he told her in his most heroic voice. The girl’s eyes fluttered open; when she saw who was holding her, she shrieked and fainted again.
“Oh, no! Something is wrong with this girl. She must be under a spell! No, not a spell - a curse! Voldemort!” Harry’s left eye twitched.
Jo snorted. “I think the only spell that girl is under was cast by you. Who are you, anyway?”
Harry dropped the girl on the books on Mark and shouted, “I didn’t put a spell on her! How dare you accuse me like that! And I already told you - I’m Harry Potter!”
Jo rolled her eyes. “I was joking about the spell - I didn’t mean it literally. And you’re not Harry Potter; he’s just a character I made up.”
It was Harry’s turn to snort. “A character you made up. Please. I’m Harry Potter, and I obviously am real and not some character you made up.”
“If you were the real Harry Potter...” Jo started to speak but stopped.
“Yes?” asked Harry. “What were you going to say?”
Jo looked around the bookstore at the Harry Potter fans. “I don’t want to spoil the ending. Let’s just say that...well, trust me - you’re definitely not Harry Potter.”
“The ending of what?” Harry asked.
Jo pointed to the stack of books next to her.
“Ah, yes!” said Harry. “Your latest book about me. Which reminds me - I have to talk to you.”
“You already are.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed, “but this is pointless. I wanted to talk to you about this book and your other books about me.”
Mark, finally conscious again, extricated himself from beneath the pile of books and the fangirl. Wide-eyed, he leaned toward Jo and whispered, “That’s Harry Potter, isn’t it, Jo?”
Jo rolled her eyes. “So he says. And apparently he has to speak with me about my books.”
“In private,” Harry added, glaring at Mark.
“Right you are,” he said. “I’ll get these people out of here.” Mark hurried away to clear the store of fans and reporters.
“So what do you want?” asked Jo.
“Fifty percent of the royalties from your books about me,” said Harry.
Jo’s eyes widened.
“And,” he continued with a smirk, “if you don’t, I’ll take you to court for using my name and likeness without permission.”
To Harry’s surprise Jo burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m being extorted by Harry Potter!”
“I’m not extorting you.”
“Do you even know what extortion is?”
Harry smugly ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I do. And whether or not I know - which I do - is not important. What’s important is that you should give me half your royalties, or I’ll take you to court.”
“You can’t. You’re not real,” countered Jo, beginning to get irritated. “Even if you were real, I’d be the one taking you to court because you’re trying to extort money from me.”
“I am real!”
“You’re not Harry Potter!” yelled Jo.
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you aren’t! There is no way that you are the real Harry Potter.”
“How do you know?”
“Because...well, for starters, Harry wouldn’t act like you did when you came in here - all smarmy and cocky like that.”
Harry blushed but didn’t sound ashamed as he said, “So maybe I’m not as perfect as your version of Harry Potter, but - “
“My version? My version! What are you talking about? There is no other version!”
“There’s me!”
“No! No! Because if you were the real Harry, you’d be dead!”
Harry’s face turned white. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” Jo sighed. “Here,” she handed him a copy of the book. “In chapter forty-two, Harry dies.”
Shocked, Harry took the book and sank to the floor. “I’m sorry,” Jo said again. “I thought it was best for the story.”
After a pause Harry looked up and asked, “Does Voldemort die, too?”
“Yes. Chapter forty-three.”
“That’s good,” said Harry faintly.
“Look, kid,” said Jo, “I’m really sorry to ruin the ending - “
“ - And kill me?”
Jo crouched down next to Harry. “I’m sorry, but you’re not Harry Potter. He’s - “
“I am!” Harry yelled. “My name is Harry James Potter. I’m sixteen, almost seventeen. My best friends are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I’m not planning to go back to Hogwarts for my seventh year because I have to find the Horcruxes and destroy them and kill Voldemort. But...” Harry looked at Jo. “But I’ve read your books. Hermione found them in a Muggle library and checked them out and I read them and - and everything in them is true! I don’t know how you know everything - “ Harry’s eyes widened as he recalled some of the events in the books that he’d hoped would always remain private “ - but it’s all true. And so I came to ask you if would give me some money because I thought I could use it to help the Order and - ”
“Let me see your scar,” Jo suddenly said.
Harry looked confused but pushed his hair away from his forehead. Jo inhaled quickly at the sight of the lightning bolt-shaped scar.
“And your hand?”
Harry held out his right hand. “Bloody hell,” breathed Jo as she looked at the scars that read, “I must not tell lies.”
“I know it’s got to be hard to believe me,” Harry admitted. “Especially for you.”
“Especially when you come in here acting like you’re some sort of god and start asking me for money."
Harry looked at Jo. “I didn’t just want money. I wanted to ask you about - well, I figured that since you seemed to know more than me about - about what I’ve been dealing with, I thought I should ask you....”
“You want to know how to defeat Voldemort.”
“Yeah.”
Jo sighed. “I hate to ruin this for you, but I didn’t write Harry as Voldemort’s killer. Someone else kills him. You just destroy his Horcruxes so that he can be killed. And that…that I can’t really help you with, except to let you read the book.”
“Who kills him?”
Jo smiled. “You’d never believe me.”
“Who?”
“Snape.”
“What? He killed Dumbledore!”
Jo laughed. “Yes, he did - on Dumbledore’s orders. Harry, maybe you should just read the book.” She reached behind her and grabbed a copy of the book. Handing it to Harry, she said,
“If you’re the real Harry Potter, then I’m sorry for your early death. If not, well, you’ve got yourself a free copy of the book.”
As she went to stand up, Harry asked, “What next?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I do next? Should I…should I go back to school?”
“Well, that’s what Harry does in the book.” Jo added, “But if you don’t, maybe things will turn out differently.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll die sooner. Why did you have me go back to school?”
“A new character makes you realize that you don’t know nearly enough to fight Voldemort with only six years of school.”
“Do you think that?” Harry asked.
“Well, yes. But, Harry,” Jo stopped as she suddenly realized she’d begun to treat Harry like Harry and not an imposter. “It’s up to you what to do. I don’t think I can help you. You’re almost an adult in the wizarding world; you’ve got to make your own decisions now.”
Harry stood in the middle of the store thinking for a while, as Mark and Jo discussed what to do about the book signing. Jo had trouble concentrating because she felt that the great, invisible wall that divided the real world and the magical world she’d created had been breached. It was as if her two lives had somehow become fused and everything had been turned upside down.
“Wait!”
Jo and Mark turned to Harry, who had stopped just inside the doors of the bookstore. “You wrote this, right?” he asked, holding out his copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
“Yes,” Jo said slowly.
“When did you write this?”
Jo thought she knew where Harry’s thought was heading. “I’m not sure that’s what’s important. I came up with the idea for this story about fifteen years ago. I decided on the ending about fourteen years ago - your death included.”
Harry smiled. “Then what would happen if you wrote a different ending?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe Jo’s writing it isn’t what makes it happen,” Mark piped up. “Maybe it’s Jo writing it and having it published and read by millions of people.”
“Then write a new version, one where I don't die but Voldemort still gets defeated! And have that published and have everyone read that one instead."
Jo closed her eyes and slowly opened them, looking more tired and worn out than she ever let herself appear in public. "Harry, I am exhausted. When I finished this book, I was sad but I was relieved, as well. These books have practically been my life for longer than seems possible. I have a family, Harry, I have a husband and kids, and I need to spend time with them. I need to give them as much attention as I've been giving this story."
"These books have practically been your life," Harry snapped, biting off every word, "but this is my life. You have a family? I have nothing but a mission to kill someone who is currently immortal, and I'm putting everyone I love in danger, and you're telling me you're tired?"
Mark stepped in then. "Harry, I understand - we understand your frustration, but it's been done. The book has been written and published. How do you expect to get rid of all these books?"
Harry, still angry, looked at him like he was a mutant. "Magic. Duh."
"We know that," Jo said. "But how?"
Harry shrugged and said, the arrogance from his entrance creeping back into his voice, "I'm Harry Potter. I can get the Ministry to do it, especially if it'll help defeat Voldemort. We'll destroy all the books, wipe the memories of everyone who's read it already and people who were involved with it being written. The only person who will remember is you," he added, gesturing to Jo. "That way you can write it so I live."
"And what if I don't want to?" Jo asked. "You said you'll tell the Ministry it'll help defeat Voldemort, but Voldemort does die in the book."
"But I don't want to die!" Harry was starting to sound desperate.
"You don't want to die," said Jo, "but you will be willing to die, in a year or so. Because you have to, or you think you do."
"Jo," Mark said softly, leaning in. "He's just a kid. You can't expect him to understand that without having lived it or at least read it. And, you did have a way for him to live in the first draft, remember?"
"What the hell!" Jo yelled suddenly. "Why are we even acting like this is real? Harry Potter isn't a real person, I made him up! I imagined a boy wizard who didn't know he was a wizard one day on a train, and then I - "
They didn't get to hear what Jo did then, because Harry, realizing the only way to convince her would be to perform magic, Disapparated. Jo and Mark stared at where he had been and were still staring when he reappeared holding the hand of a brunette girl wearing a black robe.
"Do you believe me now?" Harry asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you do something magic at first? It would've made this much easier." She smiled at Jo and Mark. "Hi. I'm Hermione."
"I know," Jo and Mark said at the same time.
"I suppose you're very confused and possibly a little upset right now, but don't worry. I've already got the logistics all figured out."
Jo slowly smiled. "I'm sure you do."
"So what's the problem?"
"She's tired," Harry said scathingly, glaring at Jo.
Hermione sighed. "Seriously, Potter, you need to work on your people skills. I was actually listening through the door. Invisible Extendable Ears," she explained, tapping her hand with her wand and showing the Muggles the now-visible Extendable Ears. "I heard what you said about being relieved to be done with the books," she continued, "and really, this is quite easy to solve. Just rewrite the ending. Hell, you could even have him die, but come back to life. I mean, he already has a massive ego, might as well make him a Jesus figure or something, too, right?"
"Hey, at least I'm not shagging a ginger."
"Let's hear you say that around Ron."
"Wait," Mark interrupted. "Ginny's a ginger, too."
"Yeah, in her version," Harry said. "But she's really blonde."
"The Weasley women's hair colour aside," Jo said loudly, "that's still a lot of writing, and it changes a lot of what I wanted to do with the story, and anyway, how is he supposed to come back to life? No one can survive the Killing Curse unless someone else has already died for them, and Harry lost his mother's protection when Voldemort used his blood to regenerate."
Mark spoke up again. "There's this theory I've heard. People are talking about it a lot online. They think Harry's scar is a Horcrux."
Harry's hand went to his scar.
Jo snorted. "Yeah, I've heard that one."
"No, no, just imagine it," Mark continued, getting excited. "Harry goes to die, and Voldemort chooses to aim at his scar, just like you've already written, right? Well, instead of Harry being destroyed, the Horcrux is destroyed! And that makes him mortal again! So now Harry can kill him, and he doesn't have to die."
"I like it!" Harry declared.
"No," said Jo. "That's too easy."
"Then make stuff harder earlier on."
"We can use the version where they don't go back to school," Mark said to Jo.
"What? No!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yes!" said Harry. "You said someone would tell me I don't know enough to kill Voldemort with only six years of school. It would make it harder if I didn't have a seventh year of school. There. Perfect." He smirked at Hermione, who was pouting but looked resigned.
"Oh, bloody hell, all right," said Jo. She turned to Mark. "Do you want to take care of this - " she nodded toward the front door, from which they could hear the sound of screaming fangirls " - and I'll go home and start writing, I suppose."
"Good," said Hermione. "I'll go alert the Ministry. Nice to meet you," she said and Disapparated.
"There's one more thing," Jo said to Harry as Mark headed off. "You two can't remember this, either."
"What? Why?"
"Because it will change everything you do. You will constantly be thinking of this, and as your life goes on, you will question everything happens, wondering if it's because of what you're doing or because of something I wrote. You have to do this on your own, and then you have to let me be. You can't come barging into my life asking me to write you out of bad situations, you understand?"
Harry nodded, then he grinned. "You could just write me a really good life in this new version."
There was a crack. Jo jumped back and saw a tall, bald Black man standing there in wizard's robes. Kingsley nodded to her and said, "You didn't see this. Actually, this isn't happening." He started to destroy all of the copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
"No, wait! Let me keep at least one," she said, picking up a copy off of the table.
Kingsley shrugged, and Harry nodded. "Sure." He stepped closer. "I'm - I'm serious." The arrogance was gone again, for the time being. "Write me a good life. I don’t want to go through all of this to end up a lonely old man or an alcoholic loser or something like that."
"What do you want?"
"I'd like a family. I'd like to - to marry Ginny." He said that part blushing and staring at the floor. "I'd like a few kids - three, I think, would be good. Me and Ron being Aurors, and him and Hermione together. I don't want to be fighting with Malfoy still. I mean, I don't want to be his friend or anything, but I'd like if it we can be civil. I don't want to have anything to do with the Dursleys - nothing bad happens to them, but just - they're out of my life. I want the wizarding world to be able to move on from all of this Voldemort bullshit."
"A happy ending," said Jo.
"That's boring," Kingsley said, before nodding and Disapparating.
"That's what I was thinking," Jo said with a grin.
"It's a boring ending to your story," Harry agreed, "but it's my life, remember?"
Jo nodded. "I'm not going to write every little detail of your life and your friends' lives, but I'll do, say, an epilogue. How about that? Ten, maybe twenty years down the line. It'll be a good life, but you'll have to get there on your own. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good. We'll have to wipe your publicist's memory, once you've written the new book, but I think I can convince them to let you remember, in exchange for helping. Deal?"
They shook hands.
"Deal."
I have decided to reread the whole of the Harry Potter series right through - I'm already three chapters into Chamber of Secrets, and I just started last night! In celebration or something of that, I've decided to post another one of my fanfics. This one is different. It edges into the territory of rpf (real person fic, for those of you not in the know), but it's not creepy or anything.
I started this story back in creative writing class my senior year of college. I don't know if I ever finished it for that class. If I did, the ending has been lost forever; however, I finished it earlier this summer, and here it is!
Title: When Harry Met Jo, or, An explanation for the epilogue
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG, for a naughty word or two
It was a beautiful June day in London, and a woman named Jo was at a bookstore. However, this was no typical day. Jo is J. K. Rowling, the British author of the best-selling Harry Potter series. On that fine day, Jo was signing copies of her latest book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - the seventh and final Harry Potter book - when someone walked into the store...
“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT’S HARRY POTTER!” the fangirls screamed as they followed Harry - yes, that’s right, Harry James Potter - into the bookstore.
“Yes, ladies,” said Harry - no - proclaimed Harry, “it is I.”
Jo looked up from the book she was signing. “Who hired the Harry Potter impersonator?” she asked her publicist, Mark. Mark, however, couldn’t answer as he had swooned upon seeing Harry.
“I am no impersonator,” Harry declared as he walked towards Jo, leaving a trail of hysterical fangirls, some of them unconscious, in his wake. “I do, however, have bloody strong arms. Watch!” He grabbed three copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and lifted them above his head.
“OH MY GOD!” screamed a fangirl. “He doesn’t even break a sweat!” With that, she swooned.
Jo laughed. “It’s not that heavy, you know. It’s only three kilos.”
No one heard her, though, because the fangirls who had previously swooned had awoken and begun fawning over Harry’s muscles.
“Oh, wow, he’s so strong!” screamed the youngest fangirl, collapsing.
Harry dropped the books on Mark and caught the fangirl before she hit the floor. “Don’t worry - I’ve got you,” he told her in his most heroic voice. The girl’s eyes fluttered open; when she saw who was holding her, she shrieked and fainted again.
“Oh, no! Something is wrong with this girl. She must be under a spell! No, not a spell - a curse! Voldemort!” Harry’s left eye twitched.
Jo snorted. “I think the only spell that girl is under was cast by you. Who are you, anyway?”
Harry dropped the girl on the books on Mark and shouted, “I didn’t put a spell on her! How dare you accuse me like that! And I already told you - I’m Harry Potter!”
Jo rolled her eyes. “I was joking about the spell - I didn’t mean it literally. And you’re not Harry Potter; he’s just a character I made up.”
It was Harry’s turn to snort. “A character you made up. Please. I’m Harry Potter, and I obviously am real and not some character you made up.”
“If you were the real Harry Potter...” Jo started to speak but stopped.
“Yes?” asked Harry. “What were you going to say?”
Jo looked around the bookstore at the Harry Potter fans. “I don’t want to spoil the ending. Let’s just say that...well, trust me - you’re definitely not Harry Potter.”
“The ending of what?” Harry asked.
Jo pointed to the stack of books next to her.
“Ah, yes!” said Harry. “Your latest book about me. Which reminds me - I have to talk to you.”
“You already are.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed, “but this is pointless. I wanted to talk to you about this book and your other books about me.”
Mark, finally conscious again, extricated himself from beneath the pile of books and the fangirl. Wide-eyed, he leaned toward Jo and whispered, “That’s Harry Potter, isn’t it, Jo?”
Jo rolled her eyes. “So he says. And apparently he has to speak with me about my books.”
“In private,” Harry added, glaring at Mark.
“Right you are,” he said. “I’ll get these people out of here.” Mark hurried away to clear the store of fans and reporters.
“So what do you want?” asked Jo.
“Fifty percent of the royalties from your books about me,” said Harry.
Jo’s eyes widened.
“And,” he continued with a smirk, “if you don’t, I’ll take you to court for using my name and likeness without permission.”
To Harry’s surprise Jo burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m being extorted by Harry Potter!”
“I’m not extorting you.”
“Do you even know what extortion is?”
Harry smugly ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I do. And whether or not I know - which I do - is not important. What’s important is that you should give me half your royalties, or I’ll take you to court.”
“You can’t. You’re not real,” countered Jo, beginning to get irritated. “Even if you were real, I’d be the one taking you to court because you’re trying to extort money from me.”
“I am real!”
“You’re not Harry Potter!” yelled Jo.
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you aren’t! There is no way that you are the real Harry Potter.”
“How do you know?”
“Because...well, for starters, Harry wouldn’t act like you did when you came in here - all smarmy and cocky like that.”
Harry blushed but didn’t sound ashamed as he said, “So maybe I’m not as perfect as your version of Harry Potter, but - “
“My version? My version! What are you talking about? There is no other version!”
“There’s me!”
“No! No! Because if you were the real Harry, you’d be dead!”
Harry’s face turned white. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” Jo sighed. “Here,” she handed him a copy of the book. “In chapter forty-two, Harry dies.”
Shocked, Harry took the book and sank to the floor. “I’m sorry,” Jo said again. “I thought it was best for the story.”
After a pause Harry looked up and asked, “Does Voldemort die, too?”
“Yes. Chapter forty-three.”
“That’s good,” said Harry faintly.
“Look, kid,” said Jo, “I’m really sorry to ruin the ending - “
“ - And kill me?”
Jo crouched down next to Harry. “I’m sorry, but you’re not Harry Potter. He’s - “
“I am!” Harry yelled. “My name is Harry James Potter. I’m sixteen, almost seventeen. My best friends are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I’m not planning to go back to Hogwarts for my seventh year because I have to find the Horcruxes and destroy them and kill Voldemort. But...” Harry looked at Jo. “But I’ve read your books. Hermione found them in a Muggle library and checked them out and I read them and - and everything in them is true! I don’t know how you know everything - “ Harry’s eyes widened as he recalled some of the events in the books that he’d hoped would always remain private “ - but it’s all true. And so I came to ask you if would give me some money because I thought I could use it to help the Order and - ”
“Let me see your scar,” Jo suddenly said.
Harry looked confused but pushed his hair away from his forehead. Jo inhaled quickly at the sight of the lightning bolt-shaped scar.
“And your hand?”
Harry held out his right hand. “Bloody hell,” breathed Jo as she looked at the scars that read, “I must not tell lies.”
“I know it’s got to be hard to believe me,” Harry admitted. “Especially for you.”
“Especially when you come in here acting like you’re some sort of god and start asking me for money."
Harry looked at Jo. “I didn’t just want money. I wanted to ask you about - well, I figured that since you seemed to know more than me about - about what I’ve been dealing with, I thought I should ask you....”
“You want to know how to defeat Voldemort.”
“Yeah.”
Jo sighed. “I hate to ruin this for you, but I didn’t write Harry as Voldemort’s killer. Someone else kills him. You just destroy his Horcruxes so that he can be killed. And that…that I can’t really help you with, except to let you read the book.”
“Who kills him?”
Jo smiled. “You’d never believe me.”
“Who?”
“Snape.”
“What? He killed Dumbledore!”
Jo laughed. “Yes, he did - on Dumbledore’s orders. Harry, maybe you should just read the book.” She reached behind her and grabbed a copy of the book. Handing it to Harry, she said,
“If you’re the real Harry Potter, then I’m sorry for your early death. If not, well, you’ve got yourself a free copy of the book.”
As she went to stand up, Harry asked, “What next?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I do next? Should I…should I go back to school?”
“Well, that’s what Harry does in the book.” Jo added, “But if you don’t, maybe things will turn out differently.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll die sooner. Why did you have me go back to school?”
“A new character makes you realize that you don’t know nearly enough to fight Voldemort with only six years of school.”
“Do you think that?” Harry asked.
“Well, yes. But, Harry,” Jo stopped as she suddenly realized she’d begun to treat Harry like Harry and not an imposter. “It’s up to you what to do. I don’t think I can help you. You’re almost an adult in the wizarding world; you’ve got to make your own decisions now.”
Harry stood in the middle of the store thinking for a while, as Mark and Jo discussed what to do about the book signing. Jo had trouble concentrating because she felt that the great, invisible wall that divided the real world and the magical world she’d created had been breached. It was as if her two lives had somehow become fused and everything had been turned upside down.
“Wait!”
Jo and Mark turned to Harry, who had stopped just inside the doors of the bookstore. “You wrote this, right?” he asked, holding out his copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
“Yes,” Jo said slowly.
“When did you write this?”
Jo thought she knew where Harry’s thought was heading. “I’m not sure that’s what’s important. I came up with the idea for this story about fifteen years ago. I decided on the ending about fourteen years ago - your death included.”
Harry smiled. “Then what would happen if you wrote a different ending?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe Jo’s writing it isn’t what makes it happen,” Mark piped up. “Maybe it’s Jo writing it and having it published and read by millions of people.”
“Then write a new version, one where I don't die but Voldemort still gets defeated! And have that published and have everyone read that one instead."
Jo closed her eyes and slowly opened them, looking more tired and worn out than she ever let herself appear in public. "Harry, I am exhausted. When I finished this book, I was sad but I was relieved, as well. These books have practically been my life for longer than seems possible. I have a family, Harry, I have a husband and kids, and I need to spend time with them. I need to give them as much attention as I've been giving this story."
"These books have practically been your life," Harry snapped, biting off every word, "but this is my life. You have a family? I have nothing but a mission to kill someone who is currently immortal, and I'm putting everyone I love in danger, and you're telling me you're tired?"
Mark stepped in then. "Harry, I understand - we understand your frustration, but it's been done. The book has been written and published. How do you expect to get rid of all these books?"
Harry, still angry, looked at him like he was a mutant. "Magic. Duh."
"We know that," Jo said. "But how?"
Harry shrugged and said, the arrogance from his entrance creeping back into his voice, "I'm Harry Potter. I can get the Ministry to do it, especially if it'll help defeat Voldemort. We'll destroy all the books, wipe the memories of everyone who's read it already and people who were involved with it being written. The only person who will remember is you," he added, gesturing to Jo. "That way you can write it so I live."
"And what if I don't want to?" Jo asked. "You said you'll tell the Ministry it'll help defeat Voldemort, but Voldemort does die in the book."
"But I don't want to die!" Harry was starting to sound desperate.
"You don't want to die," said Jo, "but you will be willing to die, in a year or so. Because you have to, or you think you do."
"Jo," Mark said softly, leaning in. "He's just a kid. You can't expect him to understand that without having lived it or at least read it. And, you did have a way for him to live in the first draft, remember?"
"What the hell!" Jo yelled suddenly. "Why are we even acting like this is real? Harry Potter isn't a real person, I made him up! I imagined a boy wizard who didn't know he was a wizard one day on a train, and then I - "
They didn't get to hear what Jo did then, because Harry, realizing the only way to convince her would be to perform magic, Disapparated. Jo and Mark stared at where he had been and were still staring when he reappeared holding the hand of a brunette girl wearing a black robe.
"Do you believe me now?" Harry asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you do something magic at first? It would've made this much easier." She smiled at Jo and Mark. "Hi. I'm Hermione."
"I know," Jo and Mark said at the same time.
"I suppose you're very confused and possibly a little upset right now, but don't worry. I've already got the logistics all figured out."
Jo slowly smiled. "I'm sure you do."
"So what's the problem?"
"She's tired," Harry said scathingly, glaring at Jo.
Hermione sighed. "Seriously, Potter, you need to work on your people skills. I was actually listening through the door. Invisible Extendable Ears," she explained, tapping her hand with her wand and showing the Muggles the now-visible Extendable Ears. "I heard what you said about being relieved to be done with the books," she continued, "and really, this is quite easy to solve. Just rewrite the ending. Hell, you could even have him die, but come back to life. I mean, he already has a massive ego, might as well make him a Jesus figure or something, too, right?"
"Hey, at least I'm not shagging a ginger."
"Let's hear you say that around Ron."
"Wait," Mark interrupted. "Ginny's a ginger, too."
"Yeah, in her version," Harry said. "But she's really blonde."
"The Weasley women's hair colour aside," Jo said loudly, "that's still a lot of writing, and it changes a lot of what I wanted to do with the story, and anyway, how is he supposed to come back to life? No one can survive the Killing Curse unless someone else has already died for them, and Harry lost his mother's protection when Voldemort used his blood to regenerate."
Mark spoke up again. "There's this theory I've heard. People are talking about it a lot online. They think Harry's scar is a Horcrux."
Harry's hand went to his scar.
Jo snorted. "Yeah, I've heard that one."
"No, no, just imagine it," Mark continued, getting excited. "Harry goes to die, and Voldemort chooses to aim at his scar, just like you've already written, right? Well, instead of Harry being destroyed, the Horcrux is destroyed! And that makes him mortal again! So now Harry can kill him, and he doesn't have to die."
"I like it!" Harry declared.
"No," said Jo. "That's too easy."
"Then make stuff harder earlier on."
"We can use the version where they don't go back to school," Mark said to Jo.
"What? No!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yes!" said Harry. "You said someone would tell me I don't know enough to kill Voldemort with only six years of school. It would make it harder if I didn't have a seventh year of school. There. Perfect." He smirked at Hermione, who was pouting but looked resigned.
"Oh, bloody hell, all right," said Jo. She turned to Mark. "Do you want to take care of this - " she nodded toward the front door, from which they could hear the sound of screaming fangirls " - and I'll go home and start writing, I suppose."
"Good," said Hermione. "I'll go alert the Ministry. Nice to meet you," she said and Disapparated.
"There's one more thing," Jo said to Harry as Mark headed off. "You two can't remember this, either."
"What? Why?"
"Because it will change everything you do. You will constantly be thinking of this, and as your life goes on, you will question everything happens, wondering if it's because of what you're doing or because of something I wrote. You have to do this on your own, and then you have to let me be. You can't come barging into my life asking me to write you out of bad situations, you understand?"
Harry nodded, then he grinned. "You could just write me a really good life in this new version."
There was a crack. Jo jumped back and saw a tall, bald Black man standing there in wizard's robes. Kingsley nodded to her and said, "You didn't see this. Actually, this isn't happening." He started to destroy all of the copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
"No, wait! Let me keep at least one," she said, picking up a copy off of the table.
Kingsley shrugged, and Harry nodded. "Sure." He stepped closer. "I'm - I'm serious." The arrogance was gone again, for the time being. "Write me a good life. I don’t want to go through all of this to end up a lonely old man or an alcoholic loser or something like that."
"What do you want?"
"I'd like a family. I'd like to - to marry Ginny." He said that part blushing and staring at the floor. "I'd like a few kids - three, I think, would be good. Me and Ron being Aurors, and him and Hermione together. I don't want to be fighting with Malfoy still. I mean, I don't want to be his friend or anything, but I'd like if it we can be civil. I don't want to have anything to do with the Dursleys - nothing bad happens to them, but just - they're out of my life. I want the wizarding world to be able to move on from all of this Voldemort bullshit."
"A happy ending," said Jo.
"That's boring," Kingsley said, before nodding and Disapparating.
"That's what I was thinking," Jo said with a grin.
"It's a boring ending to your story," Harry agreed, "but it's my life, remember?"
Jo nodded. "I'm not going to write every little detail of your life and your friends' lives, but I'll do, say, an epilogue. How about that? Ten, maybe twenty years down the line. It'll be a good life, but you'll have to get there on your own. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good. We'll have to wipe your publicist's memory, once you've written the new book, but I think I can convince them to let you remember, in exchange for helping. Deal?"
They shook hands.
"Deal."