Harry Potter, International Megastar

by Arrows' Biggest Fan

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter, etc., doesn't belong to me. The stories and characters belong to Joanne Rowling, and I am making no profit whatsoever. Please don't send me to Azkaban.

This chapter is the final draft. Feel free to read the next chapter, which is what I originally wrote.

Until his eleventh birthday, Harry Potter had thought he was just an ordinary boy. After Rubeus Hagrid told him the truth, he realised he was just an ordinary wizard, famous, yes, but ordinary. Only the wizarding world knew about him after all. Most ordinary Muggles had never heard of him. But now, as he walked down Charing Cross Road aged twenty-two years and ten months, twenty days, he wasn't so sure.

It had all began nearly five years ago. After Harry's last and most eventful year at Hogwarts, in which he had devoted much of his time to defeating Lord Voldemort once and for all, and the rest to his NEWTs, he had come back to Number 4, Privet Drive to pick up the few belongings he had left behind, and to wait anxiously for his exam results. He could only go to Auror Training College if he received top grades and he had nowhere to live until he successfully completed his application, apart from his aunt and uncle's house and the Burrow, but he preferred to stay away and give Mr. Weasley a break – he was Minister for Magic, and needed rest.

On the third tiresome day of his stay, his uncle, who was purple-faced with some mysterious rage, dragged Harry into the living room. Harry looked down at him – he was actually taller than Vernon, no longer a midget in glasses, he towered over most people, six foot three in height. Just like he had many years ago when Mrs. Weasley had sent Petunia and him a letter, Vernon began with a single word – "So."   

This time, Harry could not control himself. "So what?"

His uncle's face swelled and his moustache quivered, but Harry could see he was too scared of magic to do anything. He motioned for Harry to sit down, however, and placed his own large backside on a disgusting pink and green sofa opposite his nephew. "While we were in town, shopping" he growled, "we saw this in Smith's." He pulled a hardback book out of his pocket and held it up for Harry to see the cover. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," the young man read aloud. "By JK Rowling." On the cover was a ridiculous drawing of himself beside the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Uncle Vernon nodded. "Exactly. What did you mean by it, boy?"

"I … I haven't got a clue what it is," answered Harry, with the slightest of stammers. "I've never seen it before. Give it here." He reached forward and grabbed the book.

That was how it had all started. Since then Harry had actually met JK Rowling, who had apologised profusely for making his story available to Muggles without telling him - she herself was not magical, but she had discovered the wizarding world as a child whilst watching the Tutshill Tornados' practices, which were held closer to her house than even her school, and stumbled on it again much later when hiking - her curiosity had made her ignore the 'Danger' sign and walk straight into Hogwarts, which on the inside looked the same to Muggles as to witches and wizards. She had met up with Dumbledore, who had asked her to make an in-depth biography of Harry, using advanced Penseive techniques. It had been kept a secret, but Joanne and Dumbledore had finally spilled out all of the mysteries. Now Joanne had written four more books, the latest, 'Order of the Phoenix' out today, two films had been produced, and large pictures of an actor playing Harry's eleven- and twelve-year-old selves kept going by on the backs of buses.

The pictures on the buses didn't really resemble Harry's actual self. He had grown his hair long, down to his shoulders, and his green eyes were hidden by trendy black shades. What was more, the school uniform used in the books had a load of fancy stuff – sweaters, shirts, ties, bad

ges – instead of just plain and simple black robes. Harry realised he was wearing his own wizarding costume, black sport-robes, produced by L'Hippogriffe, a leading brand. The red and white logo was on the chest, but otherwise they were indistinguishable from any other basic black Quidditch strip.

Another wizard had obviously spotted Harry's robes as well – he landed on a broomstick with a loud 'CLUNK' beside the Auror, who had received top grade NEWTs and passed the Dark wizard catcher examinations with flying colours. The wizarding 'policeman' was a lot more conspicuous than Harry – he was wearing bright red replica England Quidditch robes and people had started staring. Harry pointed this out, as well as the fact that he was an Auror. The wizard gave a hurried apology, told him to be more careful in future, and flew off, Muggles following him with their eyes. Harry quickly performed a mass Memory Charm and continued towards the Leaky Cauldron.

He was going into Diagon Alley to buy a new copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them'; his best friend Ron Weasley, had wrecked it on the last day at Hogwarts and Harry had decided it was time he got a new one. The book had been made available to Muggles, with Harry, Ron and Hermione Granger's notes intact, though most of the ruder messages had been erased. Muggles saw only a fraction of the book; this was the same with 'Quidditch Through The Ages' – Dumbledore had thought it a good idea not to give too much away. Incidentally, Ron now had his dream job as Chudley Cannons' and England Reserve Keeper (No, it wasn't his dream to be a reserve, but he was nearly there) – Harry had decided not to follow the Quidditch path professionally, but in a recent amateur game Aurors had beaten Hit Wizards 320-30, Harry playing Seeker. Ron also had a T-shirt that he wore in Muggle areas, with 'You've just seen Ron Weasley' on the back – he, unlike Harry, enjoyed the publicity. Hermione was now the leader of SPEWIN – The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare InterNational – which had relaxed from trying to free house elves and now only gave rest homes to the elderly and care to the sick – and was engaged to Ron, who, with Harry, called the society 'Spewing'. Harry was married as well, but didn't like to reveal who his wife was.

Harry, as outlined, was not enjoying the publicity. His new look generally kept him safe, but a few Muggle children asked him "Are you Harry Potter – you look like him", and he was forced to sign their autograph books. When he tried to see the second film, the lady in the box office distinctly muttered "Harry Potter freak – sticking a scar on his head" when she thought he was out of earshot. He had been to the premiere of the first movie – some of the papers seemed to think he was Joanne's boyfriend.

There was a good side, however, he thought as he walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He may have been an international megastar, but at least most people thought he was imaginary.

THE END – or read on for the original version, written before OotP was released.