The University of Chicago Scavenger Hunt 2009, Item 251: The Wizard in the Rye: Holden Caulfield's Journal of His Month at Hogwarts
Anything that belongs to JKR is hers, anything that belongs to JD Salinger is his.
They kicked me out of school again, the dirty bastards. They said it was was on account of my not applying myself and all. They like guys to apply themselves, they really do. Anyway, my parents found this other school. I guess I've been to about every lousy school in New England by now, and that's the truth.
Anyway, the school I'm at now, it has a really goofy name. What kind of a dope names a school Hogwarts, anyway? It kills me. Must be some British-y sort of thing or something.
Oh, I forgot to tell you, this lousy school that my parents found, it's in England. Or Scotland. Nobody keeps telling me where it is. When I got off the plane, they sent me over to some lousy train station, and there were all these phony kids walking through the goddamn wall, suave as hell. Boy, was I surprised. There was this one girl who looked kinda like my kid sister Phoebe. I thought about talking to her, but she was in the middle of this mob of phony red-haired bastards, though, wearing these dopey robes.
Anyway, these phony kids kept walking through this wall, and disappearing, so all I did was, I walked on through the wall too. Then we all got on this crumby train, and then these crumby boats, and then we were in this big old crumby castle. What a bunch of phonies. They took us into this big old room, and made us sit on some stool, one at a time, and plopped this falling apart old hat on our heads. Then there was some weird person mumbling or something, and all of a sudden somebody shouted Hufflepuff!, and then I had to go sit at some table with a whole bunch of other bastards. Phonies, all of them. I felt so goddamn lonesome.
There was a head phony, some weird old guy with a long white beard, who blathered on for a while, and then I must have fallen asleep or something because the food appeared real fast. And then the only thing to drink was pumpkin juice. Goddamn pumpkin juice, not even milk or anything. Must be some British-y thing.
I forgot to tell you the most interesting part. All these phonies, all dressed up in these goofy robes, all think they can do magic. They think they're goddamn wizards. What they'd do was, they'd point these sticks at things and say greek-y things, like something's gonna happen if they swish their sticks good enough. There's this one guy, Harry Potter, with this really dopey scar--he's lousy at the stick-pointing thing. His feathers don't even twitch.
But anyway, all the other guys, they whisper about him. They all think that when he was a baby, he managed to defeat some big phony named Voldemort, and that's why he has that scar. I figured it out, though. Old Harry, he's a big phony. He drew that scar on his forehead himself, just to get attention from the other guys. One day I saw it, and the next day it looked quite different. The best part is, he tries to hide it all the time, with his hair and all, like he doesn't want people to think he's special. What a phony.