"The Boy Who Lived… and then what?"

By Colin Creevey for The Daily Prophet

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most highly esteemed, most

exciting, most dangerous school on earth. The school with the most qualified

magical instructors in the entire world. And of course, the school that ten

years ago housed and trained the hero of the wizarding world, that famous Boy

Who Lived, Harry Potter.

But where is he now? What's happened to our hero? Without any press

coverage for the past decade, it may seem that Mr. Potter has vanished into

thin air. But we here at the Daily Prophet decided to find out the truth for

ourselves about the conqueror of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Our first lead was to speak with Mr. Dennis Creevey, member of the

same Hogwarts house as our elusive Mr. Potter, though three years behind. Our

search for Mr. Creevey took us to the Ministry of Magic, where he has been an

Auror for the past five years. Mr. Creevey was between investigations when we

arrived, so we were able to question him about Mr. Potter's whereabouts.

"No, I'm afraid I don't know where he is," Creevey told us sadly from

behind his desk. "Shame, too. I've told my son all about him; bet he'd love

an autograph." Mr. Creevey also tried giving his wife, Mrs. Luna Creevey, the

former Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw house, a call. A year behind Mr. Potter in

school and currently a zookeeper specializing in the care of the newly-

discovered Crumple-Horned Snorkack (see page seven for more details), Mrs.

Creevey was unable to help us any more than her husband. She had not heard

anything from Mr. Potter since the last Dumbledore's Army reunion seven years

ago.

And so, we were back to square one with no leads whatsoever. It was

time to try our investigation at a completely different angle: interviewing

Mr. Potter's enemy-numero-uno in school, Draco Malfoy. Not many today

remember how the two were contemporaries in school, with Malfoy being in house

Slytherin. Most now only know Malfoy as the spiky-haired, bad-boy lead singer

of the band Pure Evil. We were thankfully able to catch up with the busy rock

star after a tour concert in London; however, the only words we were able to

get out of him as he pushed his way through the crowd of screaming girls were

"no," "out of my way," and "probably kicked it, the low-life!" His agent later

contacted us and informed us that he had been responding to an unrelated

question about former Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, for the man's

blunders concerning You-Know-Who.

We were able to get a few more words out of two of Malfoy's

bodyguards, though granted it still wasn't much. Mr. Vincent Crabbe was

unable to give us any relevant information (though he did know quite a bit

about varieties of cheese logs). Mr. Gregory Goyle, on the other hand, knew

nothing of Mr. Potter's whereabouts but was able to give us the address of his

wife, Millicent Bulstrode-Goyle. Though the two are presently separated, the

failed-actress-turned-politician was willing to give us a few minutes of her

time between her mayor's assistant's assistant's duties.

"No, I haven't heard anything about Potter," she spat with a very nice,

toothy smile. "But enough about him; wouldn't you like to hear more about my

political aspirations or my movie career?"

After politely declining, she quickly dismissed us with a vague hint

about possibly contacting her friend, Miss Pansy Parkinson, on an

archaeological dig somewhere near Hogsmeade, which we of course heeded.

When we arrived and found the dig abandoned for the day, we headed

into town, where we discovered Miss Parkinson and a friend relaxing in a booth

at The Three Broomsticks, a delightful restaurant in town.

"Yeah, I knew Potter in school," she told us, brushing a filthy, sweaty

strand of hair away from her mouth. "But I haven't heard anything about him

since then."

"Not even when you were married to Draco?" her friend asked, sounding

surprised.

Needless to say, this was news to us. As you all know, Draco Malfoy

has always pushed himself as the perpetually single ladies' man. Miss

Parkinson, however, was disinclined to talk about their relationship and left

in a huff, leaving us at yet another dead end.

Imagine our surprise, then, when walking dejectedly to the bar to ask

for a few glasses of water, we met Miss Katie Bell, former Quidditch teammate

of Mr. Potter, working as Hogsmeade's friendly neighborhood bartender.

"Nope; 'fraid I haven't heard from him," she told us as she easily

tossed a drink to a man at the end of the bar. "But you might try the Woods.

They live right down the street."

After thanking Miss Bell profusely, we took a stroll down the street

to the address of Mr. and Mrs. Wood, both ex-teammates of Mr. Potter. Mr.

Oliver Wood, retired Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, was unable to be reached;

but his wife, Angelina Wood, the former Miss Angelina Johnson and today a

well-known broom racer with several Cups to her name, was able to help us.

After signing two or three trading cards for us, she was able to tell us that,

though she did not know of Mr. Potter's whereabouts, her broom mechanic, yet

another former Quidditch teammate, might have some idea.

Our search now took us to Surrey, where mechanic Alicia Finnigan and

her husband Seamus are living quite comfortably. A very friendly couple with

several lovely children, they invited us to have tea with them. Alicia

unfortunately knew nothing of where we might find Mr. Potter, but Seamus, who

had been in Mr. Potter' house at school as well as in the same year, was able

to give us the location of another classmate's office who might be of some

assistance.

Dr. Neville Longbottom's office in beautiful Kensington was very easy

to find indeed, and the good doctor was very eager to help.

"I haven't heard from him lately," he told us sadly, gently clutching a

clipboard to the chest of his white coat, "which is a shame. I received a

Christmas card from him about five years back, but it had no return address.

If you find him, please let me know, won't you?"

After promising that we would, a nurse who looked oddly familiar asked

what it was we needed.

"Lavender, dear," Dr. Longbottom addressed the woman, placing an arm

around her shoulders, "You wouldn't have any idea about where these fine

reporters could find Harry, would you?"

"Harry Potter?" Lavender Brown, a former classmate of Mr. Potter's as

well, replied and shook her head, frowning. "No, sorry. But you might try my

old friend Parvati Weasley. She was a classmate of Harry's too, you know.

She helps to run Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes down in Diagon Alley."

And so it was back to London for us. We found Weasleys' Wizarding

Wheezes easily enough, with most of our crew being quite familiar with their

products. There we found Miss Parvati Weasley; her twin Ravenclaw sister,

Padma Weasley; and their husbands, the infamous Hogwarts trouble-makers

themselves, Fred and George Weasley, all helping to take that week's

inventory.

Parvati and Padma were not able to be much help, but Fred and George

gave us a bit more to go on.

"Yeah, Harry used to be quite close with our family," one of them told

us. "Pity we haven't heard from him. But you might try our sister, Ginny.

She still lives close to home, back near Ottery St. Catchpole."

"Used to fancy Harry, she did," the other one added with a snicker,

leading him to receive a smack on the arm from one of the ladies.

Back near the Weasley family home, we found the illustrious estate of

Ginevra and Dean Thomas. Mrs. Thomas, author of the best-seller "Harrows of

Hogwarts" about her exciting yet traumatizing (though character-building, she

says) experiences at the school, and Mr. Thomas, author and illustrator of the

successful comic book series "School of Sorcery," unfortunately had no idea

where we could find Mr. Potter. Their two adorable children, though, were

able to help prod some more information out of them.

"What about Uncle Percy?" 4-year-old Arta implored her mother.

"Yeah," 7-year-old Moll chimed in. "He's always talking about how he

was Mr. Potter's role model when he was a Prefect at school."

With an apparently suppressed eyeroll, Mrs. Thomas said to us, "Yes,

you could try him. I don't think he'll know much, but he's working at the

Paradise Portkey Travels office in Norfolk. And, if you can catch him away

from work, or from play, you should try my brother Ron in London. He's a

stockbroker there."

Ron Weasley, best school mate of Harry Potter and obviously our first

choise to interview, was indeed very hard to get ahold of. So, to kill some

time, we traveled to Norfolk to ask Mr. Percy Weasley what he knew.

"Ah, yes; Harry Potter," Percy responded with an airy tone, adjusting

his glasses. But when footsteps could be heard around the corner, he

whispered, "Oh, um, excuse me for a moment." As his superior walked close by,

Percy proceeded to call out the address of a most unfortunate woman in Wessex,

used a bit of floo powder, and stuck his head through a small fireplace on his

desk to give the woman a spiel about secluded vacation spots in Asia. He

didn't get very far, though; a somewhat hairy arm draped in jewelry shoved his

head back through the fireplace within seconds.

"Ah, yes; where was I…" Percy continued. "Oh, of course! Harry

Potter!" And with that, he gave us a very long-winded account of how,

essentially, he was more responsible for the downfall of You-Know-Who than

even Mr. Potter himself.

Several floo-call interruptions and attempts at excusing ourselves

later, we were able to leave, still no closer to finding our hero than when we

began.

But our luck had not yet run out. On our way back to the newsroom, we

finally received a fancy return owl written in ruby red ink back from the

youngest Weasley-family boy, Mr. Ronald Weasley, inviting us all to his estate

in the country near Sussex. We of course accepted and soon found ourselves in

the exquisite home of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and their seven, usually well-

behaved, fairly well-mannered children: (in order from oldest to youngest)

Bobbi, Carlie, Priscilla, Francesca, Georgia, Rosa, and Greg.

With the considerably large lot of us sitting around the outside patio

table for tea, it was difficult to get a word in edgewise at first. But when

the question of Mr. Potter's whereabouts was finally asked loud enough to be

heard over the commotion, the mood at the table suddenly turned somber.

Mrs. Hermione Weasley, the former Miss Hermione Granger, top witch of

her age and housemate of Mr. Potter at school, sighed a bit sadly, leading us

to expect the worst of our hero's present condition. "Yes, of course we do,"

she replied, setting down her teacup. "He's staying here with us right now in

the guesthouse. I'm sure he'd be delighted to speak with you."

"Yeah," Mr. Weasley added in an uncertain tone, "but he's probably not

quite what you're expecting."

Mrs. Weasley, along with a few of their older daughters, gave him a

very disapproving look.

The family led us, a bit quietly, to their guesthouse across the lawn.

When we arrived, we did not even have a chance to knock on the door before it

opened in a fairly abrupt manner.

"Hello," the somewhat scraggly man with very messy hair greeted us,

grinning widely. He reached up a skinny hand to brush back his

bangs—revealing a lightning-bolt-shaped scar! It was Mr. Harry Potter at

last! And he almost seemed to be expecting us!

Ecstatic, each of our crew shook his hand, and we made our way inside

for our interview. Mr. Potter was quite eager to give us all autographs, even

kindly offering them before we had the opportunity to ask for them.

After a round of photos and a few more autographs, we began

questioning him about what he had been up to since he had left school.

"Well, as you undoubtedly know, I was an Auror for a few years. But

with Voldemort and all of his supporters gone, it really wasn't much fun

anymore. So, I decided to pursue other options for a while. I tried a bit of

journalistic reporting," as some of our crew remembered fondly with nostalgic

nods, "but that didn't pan out too well. Next was the circus, then teaching

at Hogwarts; both of which were really quite similar!" he added, laughing and

nudging Mr. Weasley. "Then I tried doing stunts for Muggle movies for a bit,

then working with dragons in Romania with Ron's brother, Charlie, for a

while… But nothing quite suited my need for danger." Mr. Potter sighed and

crossed his arms behind his head. "And, actually, I still haven't. I've tried

skydiving, attending a vampire convention with a pouch of pig's blood in my

pocket, running naked through the forbidden forest, swallowing swords in a

tank full of snakes that was filling rapidly with seawater after I'd been

given numerous paper cuts… nothing's ever enough. So, now, to make a living,

I mainly just host little local events and children's parties, still searching

for something to satisfy what Hermione here calls my adrenaline addiction."

Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes but said nothing.

After thanking our hosts, and after a few more autographs and signed

photos, we made our way back to the newsroom, each and every one of us

absolutely shocked at our hero's outcome. Not only had he held multiple,

incredibly dangerous positions and performed a multitude of risky tasks; he

was humble enough to perform at the birthday parties of little, unknown, not-

famous children. It was enough to bring a tear to each and every one of our

eyes.

Be sure to catch Volume II of our interview in next week's issue, with

many more photographs and detailed, personal questions answered about Mr.

Potter's amazing life!

In our next issue: "I Was a Teenage Werewolf: Selections from the

biography of Mr. R. J. Lupin".

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