A woman sat at her kitchen table, writing nervously, jumping at every creak in the room. The candel giving her the light to write licked the air playfully, then died quickely, as if an unseen being had blown it out. The woman muttered something under her breath and the light sprang to life. The woman sighed, looking over her work. A hand touched her shoulder. She turned, thinking it was her young daughter awake from a nightmare. Seeing no one, she jumped up, and doing so, knocked the owner of the unseen hand to the floor. A silvery sheet-like cloak slipped to the floor, revealing a head of messy black hair and a forhead with a scar.
"Who are you???" Screamed the woman.
"You know perfectly well, Hermione. Now give me a hand up," The man grunted.
"M-my name is not Hermione! That's a character in a fictional children's book! Who ever you are, get out of my house, right now!" The woman shrieked back.
"Herm! Darling, you don't recognize me? I'm Harry Potter, a character from, erm, what did you say? Oh, yes, your fictional book."
"Why did you come after me? I'm under the name J K Rowling, how were you able to locate me?" Stutered the woman.
"Don't be dumb, Herm!" Laughed Harry. "That's the name you used to use in school! Remember? I was R. Heide, for run and hide from Voldemort, Ron was T. Twall, for too tall to fit, and you were J. K. Rowling, for just keep the extra credit points rolling. I knew that you wouldn't go under the name 'Hermione Granger' so that was the first name I tried. Now, mind you, it wasn't that easy to get a hold of you, between the screaming fans and the security guards, and the crazy fan fiction authors, but here I am. Minus one small lightning bolt scar."
"Harry!" Cried the woman, who we must continue calling 'the woman', because the true identity is not positive yet. "Why did you get rid of your scar? It was your best feature."
"Mostly the falt of you, partly the fault of a fan fic author," Harry rolled his eyes. "You because every time I brushed my hair out of my eyes, I'd get swarmed by dozens of little kids, all asking if I'd sign their broom for them, if I'd sign their book for them, it went on and on and on and on! Because you insisted on writing about us!! Then, one day, I was minding my own business, you know, avoiding the insane mobs of kids, trying to find Ron, (can you believe, he dyed his hair brown to get away from the fans?) and suddenly, I was next to this weird, freckled kid and she said, 'Oh, hi Harry, I've been waiting for you' and she told me that I should remove my scar, then I could get away from the mobs of kids who knew who I was. So, stupidly, I followed her advice and bye-bye scar."
"Serves you right for following the advice of a fanfic author."
"And you want to know why I'm here to get you, Hermione?"
"Erm...why?"
"To get you."
"Well, I figgured that much," snickered Hermione (her identity has now been confirmed).
"And you're going to put things right." Growled Harry.
Hermione was for once dumbfound.