Written for my Folklore & Mythology class. We were supposed to take a newspaper article and make it into a folklore story, and I found an article about the much-awaited release of the seventh and last Harry Potter. I don't think this is exactly what my professor had in mind.
"Oh, listen to this!" the brunette said, practically vibrating with amusement. One of her companions, a tall, red-haired man was just getting himself under control. A quick glance at the third person in their group, a messy, black-haired man who saw scowling darkly at the newspaper and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, set him off into hysterics again.
"'Virtually no corner of the world has been untouched by "Pottermonium'–"
The red-head snickered.
"'Mione, please," their unhappy friend glowered, knocking his head back against the wall in frustration. "I've been dealing with this ridiculousness my entire life. Have I not suffered enough? Shut up, Ron!"
"Don't blame this on me, Harry," he said, struggling to keep his laughter under control. "I'm not the one who wrote your life story and sent it off to the Muggles for publishing. The Ministry's still not very happy with you about that, by the way." This last was directed at their female companion.
Hermione waved away his comment. "Never mind them. The muggles think it's all fiction, and the Ministry won't dare do anything against 'exalted war heroes.' And anyway," she continued smugly, "Harry gave me his express permission to write the manuscript and send it off to the publishers."
"I was drunk!" he protested. "Smashed! Bloody wasted! You plied me with drinks and then had your wicked way with me. I cannot be held accountable for my actions."
Ron snorted. "I think my sister would object to your wording."
Harry sighed and slid into a seat at the table, snatching the newspaper from the witch. "What the hell is Belarusian, anyway?" he mumbled, scanning the article.
Hermione smacked him across the head for his language, and snatched the paper back. "You should be happy you're providing so many people with wages. Bloomsbury is calling you their cash cow."
"I fail to see how that is supposed to make me feel better."
"'Mione should be happy, anyway," Ron commented. "It's the bookstores and publishing companies that are making all the money."
"Don't forget the movies," she reminded the pure-blooded wizard.
"As if I could," he said dreamily. "Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret. And that actor kid had an uncanny resemblance to the real one."
Harry and Hermione shared a glance. Ron had learned to rewind a DVD for the express purpose of watching the ferret scene over and over again. The part where Hermione had punched the wizard was another favorite.
Harry made a face. "I still remember that one time we went to check out the fourth movie, and the kid said that my wand looked fake, and my glasses were completely wrong."
The other two snickered.
There was silence for a moment, and then a glint of mischief appeared in Ron's eyes. "What do you say we make a special appearance for the last book?"
Hermione looked vaguely horrified. "But Ron, that's – "
"Bloody brilliant," Harry interrupted. "I've been getting bored."
They looked at Hermione pleadingly.
"Are you insane? You can't just make up your mind to expose yourself to muggles just like that."
The two boys visibly deflated.
"Which release would you go to, and would there be reporters, security cameras, or any other recording device? Should we wait until everyone gets their copy, or at the beginning?" She continued on in a similar vein, while Ron and Harry exchanged delighted smirks.
It was quite safe to say that the release of the seventh and last Harry Potter book became a thing of legend, thanks in no small part to the Golden Trio.