It was a chilly fall morning the day Joanne was contacted. A man had looked her up and wanted to speak to her about an idea for a series, for she was an author. He requested to meet her in the park to discuss the idea. Although in the middle of writing two books at the time, she agreed. They were to meet the next day, at noon in the park.
It was cool outside, despite the sun hanging high in the sky with a cloud in sight. It was already 12:30, and Joanne began to wonder if the man would show. She was about to leave when a man with messy, black hair and glasses approached her.
"Are you the man with the book idea?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, "I'm terribly for being late, I had to see my children off."
"It's no problem at all," she said, sitting back down on the park bench. "Now, about your story…what is it about?"
"Well," he began, "It's about my childhood. About what I, and many other have sacrificed for the greater good."
Joanne stared at the man. He had the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen, and a most unusual scar right in the middle of his forehead. Then, realizing that she was being rude, looked away and said, "I'm sorry sir, but I write children's books, not biographies. I don't think I can help you…"
The man smiled and said, "I know, that's what I want. It must be written as fiction, for that is what it will be seen as."
"But why?" she asked.
"I'll show you something from my world if you agree to let me tell you everything and that you will write the books," he said.
Joanne thought on it for a second. What could this man possibly show her that would amaze her in such a way? At last, she finally agreed, and the man smiled, his green eyes flashing. Her pulled out his wallet and took out a small piece of paper. No, it was a photograph. He looked at it with a smile, and then turned it over to Joanne. It was a picture of the man, and pretty ginger-hair woman, and three energetic children, one girl and two boys. The boys were chasing each other all around the photograph while the woman was constantly trying to separate them. The man just sat there and laughed, holding the little girl on his lap.
Yes, they were all moving.
Joanne almost dropped the photo. "Oh my…how? How did you do this?" she asked in complete awe.
The man smiled again. "So, you will write them?"
"O-of course!" Joanne exclaimed.
"Ok then," he said, and stood up. "Lets meet here again tomorrow, and discuss how we will go about doing this." And with that, the man stood up to leave.
"But wait," Joanne said, making the man stop and look back at her.
"Yes?"
"Who are you?" she asked.
The man laughed, as if he wasn't used to being asked his name.
"My name is Harry. Harry Potter."