Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter, or any of the characters. However, Emily Davis is my own creation.
Emily Davis sighed in frustration. It was times like this that she cursed her chosen career path. She had nine minutes until a rowdy group of post-P.E. year nines came barging through her classroom door for third period English. It seems that this year she had the worst luck with her timetable. She had tried everything to get them interested in the curriculum. She'd shown them adaptations of both the prose and plays they were studying. She chose texts which she (and the school board) felt related to their lives. For heavens sake, she'd even read them William Shakespeare's Star Wars in the hopes of getting them interested into the immortal words of the Bard! There was one final idea that she was willing to try, however she just had to convince her department head.
"Harry Potter?" Came the startled reply of her head of English, Robert Smith.
"Yes. I overheard my year nine group talking in the courtyard last week about the films and I believe these may be the books we've been looking for to help engage them with the curriculum."
"But do you really think a fantasy series is the answer to our problem?" He enquired with genuine curiosity.
I'd been thinking about the answer to this question all day and I truly believed this would work and I told Robert so. He agreed to a trial at the beginning of the next school year, as the final term ended next week, and I couldn't have been happier! I just had to present him with a rough draft of a terms worth of lesson plans by the end of the week for him to review, but I knew this was something that would work. I just knew it!
Unable to contain her excitement, she'd started work on her lesson plans the very same night. It had only taken two hours before a rough draft had been produced and she couldn't have been more relieved. The series was more multidimensional than she remembered, and she struggled to condense them to fit in line with the curriculum. Reaching across to her bookshelf, she pulled out a beaten copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban and opened the front cover with a smile. Inside it read: 'Emily Davis (1999) age 12.' She couldn't believe it had been fifteen years since the release of her favourite book in the series. She remembered herself as an awkward curly haired girl, with her nose stuck in a book and her head in the clouds, wishing she could have been a part of this world. As she reminisced, Emily felt a strange tugging sensation in her abdomen, as if she were being pulled through a small tube. Blackness enveloped her as she was pulled forward, with the wind rushing past her ears. Suddenly she landed with a thud in the very familiar and very fictitious office of Albus Dumbledore, and saw the man himself staring at her with twinkling eyes.