Merlin Made Me Do It

by Divess

Harry Potter is going to write a tell-all book at Merlin's request. We will be sitting in on the initial meeting as Harry meets his ghostwriter. Harry will share information as well as many random thoughts with his ghostwriter, I.M. Notabeetle and with you, his audience. We will also watch those despicable HP characters get their just rewards. Humor/Drama/Romance. OC's/AU/EWE/ M.

2. Putting It Into Context

All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. The storyline is mine. Rated M for language.

Previously on; Merlin Made Me Do It: The Inception

Next day: Sunday 3:15 p.m.

It's a brand new day. As of midnight I have a brand new girlfriend. Yes. Seana (Seamus' younger sister) agreed to be my hot mama. Just kidding. She agreed to be my witch. I'm stoked.

Ginny's pissed. Hahaha.

Time to schedule a, Harry found a new witch, party. I must remember to invite I.M. Maybe he is an opportunity Ginny would want to explore.

Anyway, I now have a new purpose as well as a new girlfriend in my life. So, without further delay. I will get started on, Harry's Chronicles. It will be as Fudge once griped, A tale worthy of Harry Potter. Fucking Fudge.

And for Merlin's sake, and mine, keep an eye out for my book.

/

/

Harry is ready for his second sit down with ghostwriter, I.M. Notabeetle and you, the reader and prospective book buyer are invited to listen in.

Chapter 2: Putting It Into Context

Now we begin: Monday

There is an owl waiting when I get home from my hard day of Auroring. What? You don't think being an Auror is hard? You try working with Ron all day.

I give the owl a piece of biscuit but it remains firmly planted in place. The message is from Notabeetle. I'm thinking, is this guy going to be a pushy, pain in the arse? He suggests we set up a schedule of meetings. According to him, I need to start putting my thoughts in order. Merlin alive. We just decided to do this two days ago. Can't a hero get a breather? I already told him that I would owl him. Drat. Obviously I didn't owl him.

Buck up, I say to myself. Being less than positive is no way to start a business arrangement. The bloke can't help it if he already fancies himself a wizard with money. Ah! Seeing galleon signs in front of the eyes is not a bad thing. He is, after all, teaming up with the Harry Potter. What can the results of our partnership be if not outstanding? Together, we are going to make millions. Smiling to myself, I think, about Draco, Theo, Blaise, the little millionaire boys. Well little millionaire boys, I'm coming for ya. Hahaha.

I owl I.M. back. Being the accommodating soul that I am, I remind Notabeetle that I can be available the next four Tuesdays at seven p.m. After that, we'll figure it out. Big of me, I know. But it is for my book after all. Merlin wasn't very specific as to when I had to have my book in the stores. I think these first four meetings are a great start.

Damn. I am feeling frisky. This is really real. I am going to do it. I'm going to put it all out there. Come to think of it, I'm going to put us all out there. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Draco, Dudley, Theo, Blaise, Anthony, Luna, Parvati, Romilda, Greg and Ginny. I'm putting them all on blast.

Although I may have mentioned to them that I am writing a book, I haven't mentioned that they may or may be put on blast. I'll just let them buy the book. I do want to remain the-boy-who-is-still-living, after all.

There's not too much they'll be able to do after the book is published. Really? I think that sentence has come out of the mouth of many a wizard who was cursed to death…..by friends. How mad can they go if everything is true?

Draco pops into my head. As does Hermione, Ginny, Theo and Blaise. What the hell am I thinking? Any or all of them could kill me, hide my body and not lose a wink of sleep.

What was it that Notabeetle said? Oh yeah. If they give me any trouble, I'm to tell them that Merlin made me do it. That should suffice right up until the moment they hex me to death. Shite. Maybe I'm just over thinking. I hope it's just over thinking because I don't necessarily want to die.

Seeing how it is already Monday evening, I want to gather some material together to have ready for Notabeetle. First things first. I need to take a shower so I can get rid of the auror dust which covers me from head to toe. Gotcha. In reality there isn't any such thing as auror dust. I'm just taking a little creative license here.

I take a quick shower, change into some comfortable clothes and grab a bottle of fire whiskey. Now it's off to my study.

/*/

Although I have over seven years worth of material, noted and unnoted. I need to get it into some semblance of order. I also have to figure out in what order it is to be presented to Notabeetle. Notabeetle has been touted to me as the ultimate professional. I don't even have to tire these handsome auror hands. He can show me the best way to get things done. So says this lazy arse (me) who doesn't feel like sorting.

Hey. Yes, I'm talking to you reader number 20. Did you just comment that Harry Potter is a lazy bloke? Let me say this to you. Just like I invited you into my home to peek over my shoulder, I can just as quickly invite you out. I don't need any smart mouth comments from readers who aren't contributing. I'll show you lazy. Git.

OK, Mr. reader number 20. Apology accepted. You can stay. I apologize as well, say I as I sip my fire whiskey. In the back of my mind, I'm thinking that it is probably not a good idea to argue with prospective book buyers. Oh well. He'll get over it. Hopefully by the time my book is published.

Hang on. Before I get to work, I'm going to floo call Seana, my new sweetie, my honey, my baby girl. It may sound like Potter's going soft but really I'm not. This is a woman I can see spending the rest of my life with.(I'm going to write a book and I'm ending a sentence with a preposition. Go figure).Anyway, Seana just may be the one. Well she's the one if she is still speaking to me after my book comes out. Yup. Seana is going to be in the book. It will be Seana vs. Ginny and Ginny vs. Seana. Hahaha. You think Ginny's pale now? Wait until she reads what I have to say about Seana (and her) in the book.

I grab some floo powder and throw it into the fireplace. This lovely, dark-haired vision appears in my fireplace. She is gorgeous.

"Hi handsome."

I blush. Yes, I still blush. That's one of my many charms. You know scar, messy hair, glasses, wand work and blushing. My many charms. If you don't believe me, read the prophet. The Prophet is always willing to dish on the famous Harry Potter. Before I can reply to her compliment, Seana invites me over. I don't even have to think about it. Yee-haw. Of course I'm going. I'm going to get my snog on, and if I'm extremely lucky, a little shag.

The briefest thought of working on notes for the book passes through my mind. For one split second I think, Seana or notes? Notes or Seana? Hell. That's easy. Those notes can wait. I floo over.

/*/

When I step out of the floo who is there to greet me but the two gits, Seamus and Dean.

"Hey." I say.

They both grin like two Cheshire cats. "What's up Harry?" They ask in unison.

"Just came to see my girl."

Both of them grunt then go back to discussing the latest Quidditch news.

What the hell? Didn't I just say that I came to see my girl? That's man talk for I came to snog. I think to myself, make a move boys. Preferably towards the door or floo whichever suits you. Neither one is catching my silent hint. I try the old hairy eye roll. Nah. They don't get that either. Nothing is as dense as Seamus and Dean talking Quidditch, except maybe Ron, Seamus and Dean talking Quidditch. OK. OK. That wasn't called for I know. But, shite. Can a guy get a few snogs from his girl?

Seana has perhaps caught my eye roll and tells me to come through to the living room. Which I gladly do. Prats.

Seana and I sit on the couch. She pulls me to her and gives a bruisingly sweet kiss. It's now on like Donkey Kong. I think that and so does my penis as it becomes a self rising entity. It's a little embarrassing actually. The last thing I need as I'm sitting on Seana's couch with Seamus and Dean in the next room is a rock hard dick. Whatever. Harry Potter doesn't back down from a challenge. I wrap my arms around Seana and kiss her back.

We are progressing nicely. I have my hand up the back of her shirt and her hands are around my neck. I am running my fingers up and down her back. Seana gives a little shiver and moves closer to me. Just as Seana moves her sweet little hand down towards my rock hard piece of man meat, there is a cough.

WTF? I needed that hand on my dick. I needed those fingers wrapped around my penis. Seana and I jump apart to find both Seamus and Dean standing in the doorway smirking.

Seamus was the git who coughed.

"What? Can't a guy snog his girl?"

Seamus, ever the smart arse shares his opinion. "Yeah. When I'm not here."

For me, it's temper time. "Well leave." I gripe.

Seamus retorts that this is his flat and he isn't going anywhere.

Yup. I forgot Seana is staying with her brother. What's a snog starved, shagless man who can't even get felt up to do? I take a few deep breaths before asking Seana if she wants to floo to my place.

Before I can finish my sentence, Seamus and Dean both veto that idea. Seana has to get up early for work says them.

"What?" I rage. Who the hell died and left Dean boss wizard of Seana? Seamus being her big brother, and she living in his flat, I understand his concern (not really, who's safer than me). But Dean? I mean. That's totally out of order.

Oh! Oh! As thick as I can sometimes be, I think I see the problem.

I ask Seana to walk me to the floo so I can speak to her alone. We stand in front of the floo. She lays her head on my chest asking me not to be angry.

"Please stay. Seamus only has my best interests at heart."

As pleasant as her head on my chest feels, I am too heated to enjoy it.

"Right. I should stay, why? You have two perfectly good goons to keep you company.

She pulls away to look me in the face and whispers. "Harry, don't."

"Don't what? Don't pick up hags? Don't ask about Dean? Don't what? I'm practically screaming.

Seana bristles a bit. Then she questions me. "What about Dean? Dean is my friend just like he is Seamus' friend."

Morgana's bare behind, I think. The old friend conundrum. You know. When is a friend not a friend? The answer: when he's trying to get in my girl's knickers.

Now I'm pissed. Don't make me have to pull a Draco up in this bloody place. Just so I am clear on the situation. I ask Seana if she has feelings for Dean or if he has declared feelings for her?

She laughs. Right then I wasn't in a laughing mood. I just want answers. Seana sees that I'm serious about the question. She shakes her head. "No, really. Dean is just a friend."

For right now, I'll have to accept that answer. But, I will be keeping my eye on Dean. My once hard dick recognizes defeat. The epitome of my manhood now realizes that it won't be getting jacked off tonight. I mean, not unless I do the jacking. It has gone soft as hell. In fact, I has shriveled so far up I could pass for a eunuch. I've gotten myself into a right state. I give Seana a quick kiss and floo home.

/*/

When I get home I throw myself onto the living room couch. I wonder if I'm reading more into things than what is really there. Does Dean have a thing for Seana? She is a beautiful witch, and Dean is a walking hard on. I don't want to think about it. I'll have to trust Seana.

Raging to myself, I begin shouting at the air around me. "I don't care whose friend he is. If Dean tries anything with Seana, I will turn him into a bone and bury him in Hagrid's front yard.

I know for a fact it will work as it has worked before. Does the name Barty Crouch ring a bell? Crap. My thoughts have crossed way over the sanity line and are now somewhere I don't even want to think about.

I need a drink. I remember that there's still quite a bit of Stoli left over from the party. I might as well make good use of it. So far tonight I'm one for one. One fire whiskey. Now, one stoli. If I keep this up, Merlin will be sitting at the foot of my bed again.

As I'm pouring a double shot, somebody rings my bell. Wait! I have a bell? Oh yeah. It came with the house. I go to open the door. Hooray! It's Dudley. He sees that I am drinking the Stoli, so immediately he thinks he needs to join me.

I don't want to a right git but I tell Dudley that I have work to do and I really don't want company.

"Well boy-who-lived-in-my-cupboard, I won't be bothering you. I'll be drinking."

I start to make some rude remark about Romilda needing company, but I don't. I decide that taking my crappy mood out on Dudley isn't productive. I'm not even going to bother arguing.

I make my way to the stairs holding tightly onto a Stoli Elit bottle. Dudley ignores me. He has turned on the telly and is now watching The Dumb Channel. The question then becomes, what happens when a dumb git watches the Dumb Channel. Does he get dumber? Never mind. That wasn't a valid question. Well it could be a valid question since it pertains to Dudley. Whatever. I continue upstairs.

/*/

Once I get back to my study, I pull out my notes grumbling about all the work I have to do. Shite. I can't get the little episode with Seana out of my head. I see little pictures of Dean chasing Seana around the couch. She's like, stop Dean. I'm telling Harry. Dean just laughs and says, yeah, what's that short git going to do about it? I shake my head from side to side as a way to clear my brain as well as get the pictures out of my head. That works. My head is Dean free.

I feel my wards tremble. Somebody else has decided to visit. Great. It's like my house is the last stop on the Hogwarts Express.

I hear Dudley remark. "He's in a right pisser mood. I wouldn't bother him if I were you."

I immediately hear the lilting bellow of prat number one, Draco Malfoy. "Get down here Potter." He yells.

"Fuck you Malfoy." I yell back.

I look up. Draco is at my study door. How does he do that? He must have flown up the stairs. Fucking sneaky Veela. As I am in a git state of mind, I ask if Hermione had argued him out of the house…..again. Draco laughs. Draco Malfoy laughing? He's up to something. The only thing he truly laughs at is Hermione's jokes. That's because she will withhold sex if he doesn't. For Draco, a day without sex is like a day without combing his hair. My girl Hermione does not play. She has him whipped.

Draco will also laugh heartily if he sniffs out someone in pain. He's my mate, but he is warped. I realize that he is still laughing. I hope he can't smell my pain. His laughter finally subsides.

"What?" I growl. "I'm trying to work so piss off. I'll never get anything done."

The bloody wanker ignores my frustration.

Draco stares at me. "Voldemort is dead. You are the Chosen One and will soon become a best selling author as well. So what is making my very good mate so irate? Can't be work because Harry Potter works as little as possible. Can't be Dudley because Dudley is downstairs minding his own business. Can't be me because you were pissed off before I arrived."

I swing at Draco, but he is as quick as Scabbers running from Sirius in third year. I miss.

The famous Malfoy smirk appears on Draco's face. "Well. Well. Well. Do tell. No, don't tell me. Let me guess. Is it a witch? Is it your new witch? Bloody hell. Potter has a problem with his new witch. What's this world coming to? Tell your best mate what's going on with your love life or lack thereof."

Then Draco tries to pull out the big guns by asking if he should floo call Hermione and ask for advice. By this time, he is doubled over with laughter….. again. My mouth tries to smile, but my lips aren't having it.

"I don't have a problem."

But Draco knows me pretty well. Now he won't let up. He double smirks (he thinks it's charming). "I guess the Weaselette is looking pretty good right about now."

Now, I laugh and tell him after what Ginny pulled, she couldn't look good to me if her whole body was a vagina. That wipes the smirk off Draco's face.

Draco then tries a new tact. He becomes serious. "What's happening mate?"

I tell him I don't want to talk about it. Of course, him being Draco Malfoy, he is going to try and squeeze it out of me. But, me being Harry Potter, I'm not going to let that happen.

"Sod off Malfoy."

I get the shock of my life. That may be bit of an exaggeration, but it is still scary. Draco backs off. He looks thoughtfully at me for a couple of seconds. Then with a little wave he goes back downstairs. I hear Draco conversing with Dudley. They are speaking in soft voices so I can't hear what they are talking about. I'm getting paranoid. I believe they are talking about me and my less than friendly attitude. Fine. Let them talk. They're both arseholes.

The whispering stops. Pretty soon I hear Draco and Dudley banging around my cabinets. Most likely in search of food. I yell down.

"Leave my food alone. Go home you bastards."

This time they both yell, fuck you Potter. I just sigh. I can't even win in my own house. I take another drink of my Stoli.

Looking at my wonder wizard watch I see that it is almost 11:00 pm. I realize that I haven't got a thing accomplished and I have a meeting with Notabeetle tomorrow.

Stupid Dean. Stupid Dudley. Stupid Malfoy. Tossers every one. I look around my study feeling sorry for myself. Do I really want to do this? Do I really want to write this book? Do I really want Dean to not be lusting after my witch? I answer myself with a resounding, hell yeah. So I get to work. I begin to sort my notes.

/*/

One of my notes consists of five words, Hogsmeade, trip, eighth year, Smith. Laughing to myself I lean back in my chair and let the scene play back through my mind.

Scene playing: 8th year: Hermione had just rushed through our common room door all aflutter, arms waving. I jumped up from the chair and grabbed her by her flailing arms trying to get her to calm down. But this is Hermione Granger we are talking about. The only thing that would calm her down during this period of our lives was getting an "O" from Malfoy or an "O" in Arithmancy. Whichever came first.

After a few wild moments, Hermione caught her breath and began to relate one of the funnier things that happened that year. There were only a few of us in the common room at the time but every ear perked up as Hermione spun out her story. The tale of Zacharias Smith.

Evidently, Zacharias Smith had a blind date for the Hogsmeade weekend. It was set up by two of his Hufflepuff mates, Ernie and Finch-Fletchley. Tosspot that he is, Zacharias had been bragging about his hot date and the snogging he intended to do. Hermione was breathless. Zacharias and his date were to meet at The Three Broomsticks.

When Zacharias got to The Three Broomsticks this absolutely exquisite witch waved him over. She had long hair as black as coal and eyes as blue as the ocean. Zacharias was thrilled because deep down he hadn't thought that his fellow Hufflepuffs would come through for him. As he sauntered over to the gorgeous witch, the entire bar was tittering.

Zacharias didn't care. He wanted this witch. In his estimation, she was enchanting.

The thing is, Zacharias was the one who was enchanted. Enchanted to see what Ernie and Justin wanted him to see.

He quickly became familiar with the witch. He was snogging her, running his hands through her hair and sneakily grazing her breast with the back of his hand. Zacharias had a boner the size of Hagrid's forearm. The witch was just about sitting in his lap.

By this time everyone in the pub was laughing. Belly laughing. Still Zacharias was kissing and fondling the witch for all to see.

It only stopped when Madame Rosmerta got wind of what was going on and lifted the enchantment. As soon as the enchantment was lifted, Zacharias realized that he had been kissing and fondling a hag. Think of the ugliest hag you've ever seen and double the ugly. That would be her.

Madame Rosmerta ran the hag out but not before Zacharias vomited in the middle of the pub and ran screaming out the door.

The whole bar was hysterical. Ernie and Justin laughed the hardest. Hermione, red as a beet, finished the story and every last person in the common room went barmy with laughter. Scene ending.

As Cornelius Fudge and The Daily Prophet used to snipe back in the day, that is a tale worthy of Harry Potter. Then, as now, my stories are true. No matter what Fudge intimated. That story is definitely going in the book.

/*/

It has gotten quiet downstairs. It's after 1:00 a m. I wonder if Draco and Dudley have gone home.

I walk to the top of the stairs and call down. "Hey mates, are you still down there?"

The solitary voice of Dudley calls back. "Oi. I'm trying to sleep down here."

I promptly tell him to take his arse home to sleep. He mumbles sleepily that it's too late to go home now. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

I ask myself, why would he go home? He has as much stuff here at my house as he does at his own flat. So I just mutter, git and head towards my bedroom.

Much like in our childhood, Dudley has to have the last word. As I am closing my bedroom door I hear Dudley call out. "It takes a git to know a git, arsehole.

Bollocks. I just close my bedroom door and get into bed.

/*/

Tuesday

I awake bright and early with all this freaking light in my face. My mood really hasn't improved. I accio my wand and slam the curtains shut. That's better. Even though I still feel half dead, at least I'm not half dead with a face full of light. Thank Merlin for small favors. My mouth tastes like the inside of a vodka bottle. I hurry up to the bathroom to brush my teeth and floss. I learned all about floss from Hermione. I know spells that would do the same job in half the time. But as we all know, Hermione can be very persuasive when she wants to be. Hermione would be so proud.

Shower time. I'm in and out of the shower in ten minutes. I don't bother combing my hair. I've gotten used to the messy look. It's my trademark. I look in the mirror and say to myself, come and get it girls. I don't really mean that because I do have a girlfriend. I just think it to psyche myself up for the day. Auroring is a hard job.

After a cup of black coffee, another Hermione introduction. Morning coffee is a habit that Hermione picked up when she was in the States. Coffee is a habit that has grown on most of us. We still love our tea, but are just as likely to have a morning coffee from time to time.

/*/

I apparate to the ministry. Things seem quiet but it's only 8:00 am. Give it a minute.

Sure enough, I run into Blaise Zabini. He's on a mission. WTF? Blaise Zabini up and walking about at 8:00 am. Don't get me wrong. Blaise is one of my mates, but he usually doesn't acknowledge morning until at least noon.

This is not going to be good day. Merlin, please. Let Blaise prove me wrong.

No such luck. Blaise is all pissed off because the auror department raided one of his potion supply stores.

Well. How about this Blaise? How about not dealing in illegal ingredients? I don't say this out loud because he already looks like he could stroke out at any moment. What I do say is, come on down to my office and we'll see what's going on.

On the short walk to my office I have to listen to Blaise complain about being harassed because, 1., he's a pureblood. 2., he's a rich pureblood. 3., he's a rich, Italian pureblood. I'm already knackered just listening to the bloke. Blaise loves to hear himself talk. Took me a few years to realize it, but that's his main problem. To Blaise, no one talks better than him. He loves to hear his own voice.

Be that as it may. I try to soothe his nerves but it's not working. He wants to be an arsehole this morning. I must admit that he's doing a damn fine job.

We get to my office. I ask Blaise to please take a seat, but he wants to pace. Do I need a pissed off millionaire pacing my office this early in the morning? I think not. I've had enough.

"Sit the fuck down mate." I finally yell.

He spins and with the world famous Zabini glare he snaps. "Make me."

"WTF? How old are we? Make me? Seriously Blaise you do remember that you are talking to a world famous auror. Do you not? I will hex your arse into next week and get away with it. Make me? How fucking classy is that?" I don't know if I can stand one second longer with this stupid, Italian, pureblood millionaire.

Luckily, Theo chose this moment to waltz in. He casually mentions that he heard me yell from three floors up. This is of course a bold face lie as the highest floor Theo has ever been on in the ministry is this one, the first floor.

"What do you want Theo? We're busy." Now I've pissed off Nott as well as Zabini. Please Merlin, can I catch a little tiny bit of a break here?

I take a deep breath and proceed. Speaking in a normal tone of voice I invite Theo to get the hell out of my office. He thinks about it for a second, gives me a scathing look then turns and walks out the door without looking back. He'll be back. Theo loves hanging out in the auror department of the Ministry of Magic. Specifically my office. Good thing he is rich because I don't think he ever goes to work. One down.

Now on to Blaise's problem. I get up from my desk to pull the file. The file is not there. Shite. Now, I'm really in a foul humor. Dealing with my criminally minded friends early on a Tuesday morning is not my idea of a stress free morning. I find the file in the middle of my desk and quickly read through it. Looking up at Blaise who suddenly seems to regret his decision to accost me in the hallway. I tell him that the raid was justified.

The aurors found at least three contraband ingredients. Weeljuice spores Blaise? Racksenfracken horn Blaise? Groallyskin Blaise? These are fucking illegal ingredients BLAISE." I'm yelling again. This time I was smart enough to put a silencing charm on the door. Score one for the auror.

Blaise starts sputtering like a hose. Most of it landing on my desk. Aiming a careful tergeo at my desk, I tell Blaise to save it for someone who isn't aware of what is and is not legal.

Then he starts whining.

"Harry." He whines.

Oh, Now I'm Harry. A few minutes ago I was just another ministry arsehole whom he was trying to intimidate.

Blaise finally mumbles something that sounds like, heads will roll. And something else that sounds strangely like fucking aurors.

Alright! I'm done. "Blaise, go handle your business. Sack who you have to. Close down what you need to. But fix it fast or I'll close the whole damn building down for as long as possible. Once he sees that I've made my decision, he stands in front of me looking pitiful. I am not amused. I tell him to go before I arrest him simply because I could. After all the shite he's given me in the past forty minutes, the git has the nerve to smile. He throws a, thanks Harry, over his shoulder and is gone.

Thank Merlin. Two down.

/*/

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. No call-outs. No emergencies. Just paperwork all day. I'm golden. I know I have to get home and get ready for my 7:00 p m meeting with Notabeetle. I almost make it. I have one foot in the floo when somebody yells out, HARRY.

Shite. I recognize those dulcet tones. I take my foot out of the floo and turn around to greet Ron. Even though they are hours apart, I can't deal with two morons in the same eight hours. First Blaise. Now Ron. I don't count Theo. He's not a moron. Just an annoying git at times. Usually I wouldn't count Blaise as a moron but today he outdid himself. Thus the label.

Come on Morgana. Give it a rest.

Ron strides up to me grinning. Oh no I think. I don't really want to hear about the latest witch he shagged against the men's room wall. Stupid witches. I stand there hoping he only wants to borrow money (so he can pick up a witch to shag against the bathroom wall).

Luck is on my side. I am ecstatic. He only wants to know if I want to come to the Leaky for a drink. Merlin be praised. I tell him that I have an appointment, but I'll catch him another time.

For a minute he stands there looking perplexed. Then he starts with the questions. He wants to know all the particulars. "Where at? With whom? What time? How long?"

Bloody hell! Did Ron and I start dating and he forgot to tell me?

"It's a personal appointment Ron."

He gives me the hairy eyeball while his ears turn three different shades of red. Lately, I think Ron can't breathe right unless he knows every last little piece of my business. I think he may be writing a book. I fully expect him to stop by my house this evening just to see what's up. He shrugs and walks away.

I'm beginning to believe that Ron is trying to keep tabs on me. If he hasn't suddenly found me appealing and shaggable, he must have another reason for keeping tabs on me.

My money is on Ginny. Perhaps the she weasel has asked him about me. Perhaps the she weasel has realized that it wasn't all bad under Harry Potter and wants to know what I'm up to. What am I saying? Ginny doesn't ask. If anything, Ginny demanded that Ron keep tabs on me. She is sneaky that way. Use Ron to spy on me so she can keep her harpy hands clean. I wonder how I didn't see these lovely traits when we were together.

/*/

It's getting late so I decide to apparate home. Two shakes and I'm there. I check my wonder wizard watch. It is 6:30. I have thirty minutes to get set up for Notabeetle. After a real quick shite, shower and shave, I'm ready for business. I head downstairs to wait for my appointment but detour to the bar to pour a fire whiskey. I sit savoring the burn.

Promptly at 7:00 the doorbell rings (I have this under control. I now know that I have a doorbell).

Laugh if you want. What decent wizard has a doorbell? Actually. What decent wizard makes his visitors ring the doorbell? The quick answer is that my friends and family (Weasleys, not so much anymore) either floo-in or apparate-in (except for Dudley). That's the wizard way.

However, all reporters will ring the bell. Harry Potter will not give ward permissions to any reporter. Be he friendly or not. In the, ducking reporters business, one day they're friendly, the next day they're not. I'd rather not die by friendly fire. An unfriendly entity of any kind flooing or apparating into my home makes me anxious. I'll take my chances with the doorbell.

I open the door to find Notabeetle standing there grinning. I greet him by his surname. Once again he invites me to call him by his, well I won't say by his first name because all he has are initials. So, I agree to call him I. M. I apologize for forgetting he has suggested this before. Personally, every time I call him I.M. it makes me want to ask, you am what? Doesn't happen all that often, but Harry Potter, famous auror, does sometimes show his grasp of humor.

Before we head upstairs I lock my wards (yes, in this story I can lock my wards) and close off my floo. We go upstairs. I show I.M. to a chair in my study. I ask if I can get him refreshments of any kind. He asks for tea. I call out for Nigel (a house elf loaned to me by Malfoy). Nigel makes short work of getting the tea. He has added some biscuits and jelly as well. It's a little late in the evening for biscuits and jelly but who puts the good stuff out for a reporter? We are now down to business.

I.M. jumps right in. He asks to see any notes that I have put together. He also makes the suggestion that I dictate my thoughts to him. I agree to the dictation with the stipulation that no copies are to be made and that all paperwork, notes, etc., remain in a warded box in my study until such time that we are ready to put together a rough draft. He agrees and we sign a magical contract.

This reporter will never be a Rita Skeeter. He's too legitimate.

I read him my notes on the Zacharias story. He laughs like hell as he transcribes. In fact, he laughs so hard he snorts tea from his nose. Not a good look I.M. He wipes up still chuckling. We are in agreement. The story will go in the book. There is no agreement as to where in the book it will go, but it is definitely going in.

Once we get enough material together, we can start putting the pieces in order. I realize that dictating to I.M. is probably the best way to go. All I have to do is talk. He will take care of the heavy work.

I think of another tidbit from 8th year. This will not be pretty but I'll run it by I.M. to see what he thinks.

Scene begins: Shortly into 8th year, maybe late September or early October. One of our most prominent and influential citizens of today was complicit in the cursing a member of her own house. Scene ends.

I.M. and I have a side discussion about this particular entry as to the merit of including it in the book. We jointly make the decision to include it in the raw material with the understanding that it might not make the final cut. We also discuss the possibility of not naming names in the book.

Whatever. We can deal with that later. During note gathering, I will be naming names.

Scene resumes playing: I tell I. M. it is important he realize that initially 8th year was full of tension with students from all four houses being housed together in the same dorm. We all really had to be super conscious of the things we said and did.

What started out as an alleged prank by Lavender Brown on Parvati Patil turned into a bloody nightmare. Lavender had found out that her house mate Parvati was crushing on Slytherin hot boy Theodore Nott. What was not known to Lavender (and a few others) was over the summer Parvati and Theo had begun a semi serious relationship.

Perhaps Lavender thought she would show Parvati how rotten Slytherins were. Perhaps Lavender wanted a piece of hot boy Nott herself. Perhaps Lavender wanted to show that she could get any boy she wanted.

Whatever the reason, Lavender got Nott into an empty classroom. The prank was that Lavender prearranged for Parvati to meet her there as well. Parvati was under the impression that she and Lavender would be pranking two Hufflepuffs. Lavender proceeded to get Theo in the compromising position of his face between her legs and his tongue in her slit.

Word around the dorm was that Lavender used some kind of potion or WWW trick to make Nott pliable. When Parvati turned up, she found Theo sucking, licking and slurping Lavender's slit.

Lavender looked her straight in the face and wriggled her ass harder. Parvati didn't even bat an eye. She pulled out her wand and hit Lavender with the fairly dark curse that removes a victims hands called the hands off curse. (we think she learned it from Malfoy). Because Lavender was holding Nott's head between her legs, as soon as the curse took effect, Lavender found herself off balance (her hands were gone) and fell backwards off the table starting a chain reaction that you only see in muggle movies. Lavender went backwards, legs still spread and her entire pussy up in the air for everyone to see.

The commotion was heard by everyone in the 8th year dorm and almost everyone was witness to the spectacle.

When Lavender fell backwards, Nott, with his erect penis hanging out, fell forward, bumped his head knocking himself out. Then, with the dexterity of a kneazle, his body bounced backwards landing flat on his back with his erect penis looking like a flagpole. Although his penis deflated quite rapidly as he lay there unconscious.

Parvati was like a wounded animal. She was foaming at the mouth making these weird, high-pitched noises. I had to wrestle her to the ground to make her release her wand. She was scary.

Nobody reversed the curse on Lavender for a full ten minutes. For all of those ten minutes, Lavender sat in a corner facing the wall not making a peep. We didn't know who was at fault at the time but most of us would rather see Lavender in pain than Parvati. Hermione finally removed the curse because she felt sorry for Lavender. The Slytherins grabbed Nott and dragged him out of the room.

Not one person who was there or who heard about the prank could figure out how Lavender could ever think it would be funny. With respect to her SO, in my opinion, Lavender was and still is, a fucking troll.

Once the whole truth came out, Lavender found herself a laughingstock. Every Gryffindor attending 8th year classes rallied around Parvati.

There was a secret tribunal of sorts called with four impartial (sure they were) judges. The judges made the recommendations:

that Lavender apologize personally to Parvati and Theo;

that the alleged curse/hex used would not be named or discussed;

that the incident would not be spoken about until after the term ended and the participants had left the school;

that any further violence, from any party, would generate a report to McGonagall.

True to the tribunals declarations, the incident was not spoken about. Not in public areas anyway. I know the Gryffindors held at least one private party that was aptly named, The Pissed Off Parvati party. WWW fireworks were included. Parvati did not attend.

Lavender wasn't invited anywhere as she was persona non grata for at least two of the houses right up until end of term and graduation. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw didn't think too highly of her either.

Theo was not treated badly after it was acknowledged Lavender drugged him. In fact, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws respected him more for choosing to date a girl from Gryffindor.

Parvati and Theo couldn't work it out. They never got back together.

As with anything secret at Hogwarts, many people knew. They knew and added their own private provisions to that of the tribunal;

that Lavender keep her pussy covered;

that Lavender keep her legs closed;

that Nott keep his nose above female belts

that Nott do penis exercises.

After the fact, and behind closed doors, lots of students had a good laugh on Lavender. Not in the presence of Parvati. Not in the presence of Theo. Scene ends again

With a discreet cough, I.M. interjects that Miss Patil may not favor that particular story being put in a book.

I acknowledge his comment with a nod. "I.M. my man. We will cross that bridge when we come to it." But I really am in agreement with him. I know Madame Undersecretary Patil would have my arse for afters if I published the story as is. Not naming names is looking better by the minute.

Next up, I say to I.M. is an item I may have mentioned in passing the first time we talked. I tell him we hadn't yet agreed on the note taking process so I don't think it is down on parchment anywhere. Talking about Theo, Parvati and Lavender made me think of it. Here it is again. This time it will be transcribed.

Scene playing: Later in the 8th year term, after Parvati had dumped him, Theo grew abysmally stupid. Totally stupid. Recklessly stupid. He tried to date Hermione Granger.

Theo was in Hermione's face every day. He asked her on a date for a Hogsmeade weekend. He also found it necessary to touch her whenever they spoke. He even tried to back her into a wall and snog her. Hermione politely but firmly rejected him each time.

It was an open secret to everyone except Theo that Draco and Hermione were in a serious relationship. Hermione was cool. She never mentioned Theo's actions to Draco. She handled it herself.

Unfortunately, Theo one day chose the same corridor Draco was walking down to try and feel Hermione up. Theo became very smart after Draco beat him to a pulp in the room of requirement. Theo had to be sent to St Mungos to be healed. This particular incident is on the record. We all covered for Draco, but he was still almost expelled. Not to worry. As I said, Theo had become very smart. He covered for Draco as well. Theo realized the error of his ways and started looking for another girlfriend. One who wasn't Hermione Granger. All things considered, Theo had kind of a rough 8th year.

After being taken to task by McGonagall, Draco was taken to task by Hermione who was upset with Draco not only for beating Theo up, but also for almost getting expelled. However, if I remember correctly, that was the night Draco got the best shag of his life. I think he may have even got a blo-jo. We could hear them all the way up to the Charms corridor. Alls well that ends well. I guess. Scene ends.

I check with I.M. about Hermione winning the beauty contest. I remind him that I recounted her adventures last meeting. I.M. remembers the story but at the time we hadn't come to any agreement as to how we would proceed. We had not yet agreed to have him transcribe. Last meeting he was only there to listen. I am pretty sure that I want to include Hermione's adventure in the book.

It's almost 10:30 so I call an end to our meeting. I promise him I will start with Hermione's story next week.

I.M. tells me that I just might have a very promising book. He also suggests we begin to transcribe some things that are personal to me.

I'm thinking. Really? I had plans to tell all on everyone else. Not myself. Just kidding. I know if I want remain alive after the book is published, there had better be plenty in there about me. Sheepishly I tell him no worries.

Polite git thanked me for my time. He had this strange look in his eyes. I think I'm right about the galleon thing. He is seeing galleon signs floating in front of his eyes. He's the professional. He knows what will sell and what won't. Excellent. If he can see galleon signs in front of his eyes, that's a good sign for the book and a good sign for my wallet.

I say goodnight. He heads for the door. That's a wrap.

/*/

I am finishing up the shower part of my nightly routine when I hear a tap, tap, tap on my window. Merlin on the mountain. There's a ministry owl at my window at 10:45 at night. I wonder what fucking emergency couldn't wait until the morning? Grabbing the owl I take the message off its leg.

Random thought: Couldn't we at least try to bring wizarding message services up to, say the dark ages? I mean, the owls would certainly be glad. Where's the harm in using mobiles? They're small and easy to use (once you get used to them). Best of all, they work like magic.

The message is from the Ministry, specifically from the auror department. It states that my presence is requested at the holding cells. The message is nowhere as sweet as I'm making it sound. I just thought that get the fuck down here Potter was a little crass.

Blaise has been arrested and he is demanding to see me. I scream out to my empty bedroom. Mother fuck. You fucking mother fucker. Fuck you. Fucking Blaise. That mother fucker. Damn dumb git. I am spitting nails. I am also foaming at the mouth as I try to calm down so I don't drop dead on the spot. Drop dead? Really? Do I have that option? If I drop dead, who will go see about Blaise's mother fucking ass. I decide I need to take a few more deep breaths before I apparate to the Ministry. I don't want to splinch myself. That would be pisser. Getting splinched to go see about Blaise's ass.

I think I must have calmed down because I have dropped most of the mother fucker fuck words from my sentences.

In the back of my mind I'm thinking, this is so going in the book. Fuck Blaise.

I send a patronus to Draco and Theo telling them that Blaise has been arrested and they should meet me at the ministry.

Twenty minutes later, I am at the ministry in the aurors department trying to make sense out of Blaise's arrest. Didn't I just speak to him this morning about his illegal shite? How the hell had he gotten himself arrested the same day?

Draco and Theo come stomping into the office. I tell them that I haven't found anything out yet as I was just on my way to the holding cells.

I don't know who was whining the loudest, Theo or Draco. What do you need me for? What did he do? Couldn't this wait until morning?

Theo keeps whining. "I was already in bed."

Draco the joker has a cheeky answer. "I was already inside Hermione."

Some other time and some other place, that may have been funny. But not here. Not right now. I stop walking and glare at each man in turn.

"You fucking posers. I thought you would want to come help out your mate. Stop the bloody complaining or I'll hex you both."

Draco, being the fuck that he is, turns to Theo to remark. "Potter Stinks."

Even I had to smile at that one. It did break the tension.

/*/

We get to the holding cell and find a badly beaten up Blaise. He has a cut over his eye. His robes are ripped. He has a gash on the side of his head and he is holding his arm at a strange angle. Draco, Theo and me all ask the same thing. What the fuck happened to you?

Blaise smiles at all three of us, and responds with a smile and his cheeky, Zabini manner. "Hi boys. Thanks for coming."

If he didn't look so bad I would have throttled him.

Draco and Theo are standing there stiff as boards just waiting for Blaise to name names so they can hex the crap out of someone. Blaise does look bad. I'm a little afraid for whoever did this if they run into Draco and Theo. Before anyone falls to their wands, I remind them not to do anything stupid. I tell them that I will get to the bottom of this. Theo mumbles that I'd better or he would..

I open the cell door and take a closer look at Blaise. I go mental. Who would leave a prisoner in this state? Even if the prisoner is a rich, pureblood, Italian, dumb git.

I get my answer as soon as I see who is on duty. It's Robbits, the laziest, most ineffectual auror in the wizarding world. Unfortunately, he is related to assistant under secretary Junius Robbits which means he will have a job for life. I tell Robbits that I'm taking the prisoner to St Mungos. He starts to complain but after seeing the look on my face he turns and walks away. Over his shoulder, he reminds me that Blaise is now my problem.

We get Blaise up and I apparate him to St Mungos with Draco and Theo close on our heels. My name still carries some weight in certain places. St Mungos being one of them. Blaise is immediately taken in to see a healer.

While the healer is examining him, Blaise tells us what happened. In a nut shell, he caught the culprit who was bringing illegal ingredients into his company. Blaise had confronted the prat and a full fledged duel had broken out.

Score one for my best mate for doing the right thing.

The problem was the bloody bastard had brought two other men with him. During the course of the duel it became three on one. Theo and Draco started growling when Blaise said that. Blaise casually mentioned that he had to use a couple of unorthodox (he meant dark) spells. He ended up nearly killing one of the culprits while wounding the others almost as severely. Someone had called the aurors. Blaise was arrested because he had caused the most damage. The other three blokes were arrested and thrown into holding cells as well. End of story.

By the time Blaise finished his story, the healer had fixed him up back to new. The only problem was getting Blaise to take the potion needed to mend the broken bones in his arm.

Now that we knew he was going to be fine, I told him if he didn't take the medicine I would shove it up his arse. By mouth or by arse. You decide. He took the potion by mouth.

Blaise and I headed back to the ministry. Draco and Theo flooed home as there was nothing more they could do. I told Blaise he would have to remain in the cell until morning. He said, fine but asked if I would bring him some food because he was starving. I said I would. Idiot that I am. I asked if he needed anything else.

"I need to be home in my own bed."

"Blaise. Smarten up. You are here until tomorrow."

"Well in that case a-u-r-o-r Potter. I will take an extra pillow. Preferably one made of goose down."

"Blaise. Don't make me come in that cell and slap the taste out of your mouth."

He smiles.

"I'll see you in the morning. I'll send Nigel over with some food and a pillow.

I write a quick note on his file, sign it and apparate home. I call for Nigel to tell him what needs to be done. I head upstairs to my bedroom. I am bushed so I just step out of my clothes and leave them where they fall. I am dozing off as the events of the day start playing through my mind. I am convinced that tomorrow is going to be another long day.

Suddenly, something flashes through my mind. I never heard you readers leave. I sit up in bed peering around.

"Hey. All of you, over the shoulder readers, can go home now. The excitement is over for tonight. I'm on personal time here. You're all welcome to come back and peek over my shoulder again next Tuesday. I.M. and I start promptly at 7:00 pm. Don't be late.

Smiling, I lay my head on the pillow and call out. "Goodnight fans. See you all next Tuesday."