Chapter Eight:

We got published!

I was privately stunned. I'd been writing for so long, it had seemed to me that there wasn't really an end to it. I'd forgotten that there was an actual chance of succeeding.

It turned out the people who were publishing Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone ( Bux 4 Kidz Inc.) had been one of the publisher's we'd written to at random. They'd received the letter, and the draft, and they loved and sent back an agreement. Mickey had found it waiting for him at the Post Office.

If you're wondering about Blueberry - Burbury - Cadbury - crap, i meant Bloomsbury (aha!) then all I can say is I'm as surprised as you they didn't write back first. I guess it's something to do with circumstances - maybe because we'd published it earlier then the whole chain of events had been changed. Anyway, who cares? We got pu-be-lished! (I know there's no E, dude, I added it in of my own accord. Not that I'm a fantastic speller, but you know what I mean)

One month later, precisely four-and-a-half months into my stay in the past, Mickey and I were salivating in Mr. Jones' bookstore. He hadn't wanted to let us in, but Mickey had given him his special wobbly lip/ big eyes look and he'd relented. Now we stood, staring in awe at the book we'd worked so hard for.

Okay, obviously not as hard as JK Rowling had, but she didn't need to know that.

Actually, no one needed to. I sincerely hoped she'd see the book in stores before she tried publishing her copy. If she'd finished it yet.

I felt really sorry for her though. Having worked really hard myself, I suddenly realized how horrible she would feel. Particularly since if she accused me of stealing it, I'd be the one everyone would support, since not only had I published it first, but I had the next three-and-a-half books to prove it.

Gosh, guilt really does have a negative effect on mental health.

Fortunately, I had Mickey, who seemed completely at ease with the fact that we'd basically stolen someone's book, and was ecstatic to see it being sold. This was sort of insulting; his shock at it actually going through seemed to imply he'd had less faith in me than I'd suspected.

Mickey and I stood staring, mouths open at the shelf. Right there, on the new releases shelf, it was waiting for someone to read it. The publishers had made it a really cool cover, with Harry and Hogwarts and everything. There was even a little summary at the back and everything, just like a real book!

I couldn't believe I'd written a real book. Not just any real book, Harry Potter.

I may be a tad dishonest, but I am brilliant, if I do say so myself.

Mr Jones wandered around behind us, muttering about his lumbago. We heard a bell tinkle as a couple of kids walked into the store. Mickey and I looked at each other excitedly and we followed them casually as they wandered around, snapping to attention when they stopped at the new releases shelf.

'' So, Mickey, how'd you like that new book you bought?'' I asked loudly.

Mickey gave a large smile.'' Oh, Harry Potter, you mean? It's brilliant. Loads better than Borderline! I cant wait for part two!''

The two kids paused, then one of them reached for the book, giving it a quick look. Mickey and I egged them on in our heads.

Buy buy buy!

'' Looks pretty interesting,'' muttered one boy to the next. My smile widened.

It widened some more when they walked to the cash register with it.

And when Mr Jones sold it to them, it was positively blinding.

Mickey and I exchanged high-fives gleefully. We were so hyper over the whole thing. Me, because I'd accomplished something, for the first time in my life, and Mickey, because we were making more money than he could have pickpocketed in a year.

Yes, you heard that right. We made loads of money. Once we'd set off, it was easy. Everybody loved it. We'd already received several cheques, apart from the initial one, and let me tell you, we were happy about it!

Although we were still staying at Martha's place, since nobody else would accept two children with no adult. Even two surprisingly wealthy children.

Plus we were still writing the fifth one—let me rephrase that. I was still writing Order of the Phoenix. Mickey did nothing to contribute to the actual writing whatsoever.

But you know what? Shockingly, I didn't mind sharing the money one bit. I guess I'm not as selfish as I used to be.

Plus I cant exactly swindle Mickey out of it. He's better with this money stuff than I am.

Although, thanks to recent events that kept me busy, I wasn't able to write as much as usual. It worried me slightly, since I had less time to write three big books than I'd had to write the rest. It would be no good writing Harry Potter if I didn't complete the series, after all.

Mickey was unperturbed about it. He said I was staying in the past anyway if I planned on actually taking the credit for it, and now that we'd made some money, he didn't really care much.

Mickey seem to be blessed with a very lazy conscience ( and yes, I'm one to talk now! I'm almost a goody-two-shoes!) and very little worries. He was cool about everything.

This is very irritating to myself, since I panic over everything, if inwardly.

But we all know being irritating is one of Mickey's other blessings, so its no surprise.

We spent nearly the whole day in the store, playing our little scene to make people buy it. There wasn't really anything like watching someone buy your very own book.

Imagine if you'd actually written it from your own imagination!

Mickey did a victory dance as the sun set and Mr Jones started shuffling around to lock up. He told us ( told is a very polite word for the way he snapped at us) to leave and we went out, enjoying the cold air, the crowds, and the success. We had ourselves some food, then headed home. There's nothing like going home to your messy room after a hard day's celebrating.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

We settled down into my room, Mickey enjoying my iPod happily as I started on Order of the Phoenix. It was easy enough to write, since I'd read it even more than Goblet Of Fire, and since there weren't many Voldemort bits I could groan over. I wrote away, finishing quite a large chunk of it – all the way to the Hog's Head chapter – and was in the middle of Ron disliking Zacharias Smith when Martha suddenly knocked on the door.

'' Come in!'' I called. Mickey pulled out the earphones – mercifully stopping singing – and stared as Martha walked in timidly.

The sly expression on her face told me instantly she was here to see if she could make more out of this deal. She'd noticed how Mickey and I seemed to be making more money every day – shockingly, it was true, we were really becoming something here! – and she wanted to see what she could gain out of it.

The trouble was, trying to make more money off people like Mickey and myself is about as easy as getting Grawp to write an essay. We were old hands at this negotiating biz, thanks to our many dear publishers ( whom we'd taken to visiting subtly to rub in our success in their noses. Infantile, I admit, but so satisfying ). To be more precise, we were old hands at making the negotiating biz go wrong.

'' Good evenin','' she said pleasantly, her tone mild as ever.'' I just came to check on the two of you.''

Mickey nodded, waving a hand lazily.'' Well, hello, then, Martha.''

She turned pointedly to me.'' And hello, Miss Laura.''

'' Yo,'' I said, equally pleasant.

'' How's everythin' goin'?'' she asked me vaguely.'' I see you've been enjoyin' your rooms.''

She gestured to the mess on the floor. I flushed.

'' W-we'll clean it up later,'' I said hastily.

'' So how's business goin'?'' she asked, not-so-subtly.

'' Horribly,'' said Mickey at once.'' The economy's falling, the rate of inflation increasing, stock market going mad, and to top it all off it looks like George Bush's going to run for the upcoming presidential election in America. Need I say more?''

Ahaha, masterfully done, Mickey.

Martha blanched, then recovered herself.

'' I meant a li'l closer to home,'' she said, giving up the subtle approach completely and heading in for the kill.'' Like, you two look to be makin' yourselves quite a bit o' money.''

'' Does it?'' I said in fake shock.'' Gosh, see how I was right, Michael? How many times d'I tell you looks can be decieving? And now here's living proof. Thanks, Martha, he needed to learn that lesson real bad, y'know.''

Mickey looked appropriately bashful.'' I know now, La – Laura. I'm never going to ignore your advice again.''

'' Good boy,'' I said, and turned to Martha,'' And thank you, Martha, for helping him see the light. Good bye!''

Martha looked thoroughly confused.

'' But—'' she said hesitantly.'' You didn't say nought about your money yet!''

'' Our money?'' my mouth dropped open.'' We've got money?''

Mickey's eyes widened and he gave Martha a hopeful look.'' You're giving us money?''

'' Oh, you angel!'' I cried, flinging my arms wide open and looking at her in sickening gratitude.'' You're going to give us money and help us along!''

Martha panicked.'' I didn't say anythin' of the sort!''

'' See, Michael,'' I said patiently.'' When you do good, you're rewarded with kind people entering your life to make it a better place. Now you can get little Bob that toy he wanted.''

'' And you can get Grannie Lucy her medicine!'' he added enthusiastically, and it took all my self-control not to burst out laughing.

Martha looked completely unnerved. She tucked a strand of wispy, mousy-brown hair behind her ears and said tremulously,'' Ah—I think I best ought to be goin' now.''

Mickey tutted.'' Horrible grammar, Martha. Dear, dear.''

'' Now, Michael,'' I scolded him as Martha started to back out.'' You shouldn't go around correcting Martha's grammar. She knows it should be, ' I think I best be gone now,' or more correctly,' I think it is best for me to depart for the time.' Don't you think, Martha?''

But Martha had gone out hurriedly and shut the door behind her. I grinned.

'' Nice work, Mick.''

'' I know,'' he sighed.'' I am amazing. It is a wonder I am so unappreciated. I should be put on a throne with the world at my feet.''

Hey! That was my line!

My mood turned sulky immediately, and I scowled at him.

'' The world does not revolve around you alone,'' I snapped and headed back to my desk to write.

'' Well, it definitely should,'' I heard him mutter as he plugged his earphones back in, and promptly started mixing up Beyoncé and Limp Bizkit.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

A week later, when I was well over halfway through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, things started to happen again, having been relatively quiet after we'd screamed our lungs out about getting published. We were still making quite a bit of money, but nothing was really happening. I had to write into the night out of panic that I'd run out of time, but I was able to stick to the original very closely, fortunately. Have I mentioned how amazing my memory is?

' '' Maybe…'' said Ron slowly.

'' Maybe what?'' said Hermione, rather snappishly.

'' Maybe its not Harry's fault he cant close his mind,'' said Ron darkly.

'' What do you mean?'' said Hermione.

'' Well, maybe Snape isnt really trying to help Harry…''

Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked meaningfully and darkly from one to the other. '

I rubbed my aching wrists and was reminded of my hunger by a very ominous growling from my stomach. Mickey pranced into the room, dancing up and down with glee on his face.

'' Yeah?'' I asked wearily.

'' We got out first review!'' he yelled.

I promptly fell off the bed, then whooped from the floor.'' Yay!''

I jumped back up and snatched it the newspaper he was holding to read it, my insides full of butterflies. It was The Glasgow Herald. I had no idea where he'd got it from, but I read the review frantically.

' I've yet to find [ it read ] a child who can put it down. Magic stuff.'

I shrieked happily.'' It's a good review! Hats off to us and JK Rowling!''

He continued dancing around the room happily.

'' I think we should celebrate with a good meal,'' I added wisely. He stopped dancing instantly.

'' Yes!''

We did. We went out of McDonald's ( believe it or not, that was our second course. We'd already invaded a restaurant ) a few hours later, completely full with big smiles on our faces.

It was only when we'd walked a block that it hit me we'd forgotten our disguises. Our disastrous little incident had been very similar to this, we'd been exiting the fast food place when—

'' Well, well, well, if it isnt good ole Lucy-Ann…''

Oh, the irony. We'd made the same mistake. Again. I squeaked, half-shocked, and turned around to gaze into Suit's bloodshot eyes. He'd changed his suit ( I bet they had a party over that one at home ) but he wore the same expression he usually wore when he saw me.

Manic fury.

I really don't know what I did to this guy. It's him, not me.

'' Tell me, Mister-Official-In-A-Suit,'' I said, swallowing hard, my voice trembling very slightly ( Mickey said it was trembling like a ninety-year-old lady's. That is not true ).'' Is—would this happen to be a situation warranting a good scream and rapid running?''

He gave me a bloodthirsty, happy smile not unlike that of a wolf who has finally caught his prey.'' I believe it is. My colleagues happen to be unavailable to tell me to go easy on you.''

'' What I want to know is,'' I said nervously,'' what I ever did to you?''

His ugly eyes widened in shock.'' You honestly don't know? You are the most exasperating, frustrating, irritating little girl I have ever met. You nearly cost me my job. You played us all like fools and lied to us through your teeth. You are infuriating.''

'' Yeah, well,'' I mumbled.'' I'm working on that. And don't call me a little girl.''

And then I let out a good scream and Mickey and I were sprinting through crowded London streets yet again. Personally, I find being chased by a madman – figuratively – in crowded streets very action movie-esque, and personally, I prefer it in the movie. When you experience it in reality, it actually gets pretty boring.

Not to mention exhausting. I mean, what is it with running? I am no good at it, yet I inevitably find myself doing it at least once a month. Something really had to be done about that.

We ran all the way back to the alley behind Mr Jones' bookstore. Mickey scrabbled at the door and we burst into his store, panting. Mr Jones frowned.

'' Been running, have you?'' he said severely, then looked grumpy.'' I could run once. Before a little thing called old age settled in, and I got every disease known to man to prevent me from running.''

'' Hide – us!'' I squeaked between pants.

He sighed.'' There's a cupboard over there.''

We ran over to it. I slid on the floor, predictably, and fell rather painfully before landing right in front of the cupboard door. Panicking tends to increase my clumsiness.

Mickey flung the door of the little cupboard open and leaped into it, pressing his tiny little frame against the wooden walls of the small space. I struggled to get up, then followed him, gasping when I heard the door tinkle and Suit arrive in the store, blustering.

'' Where are they?'' I heard him shriek as I motioned for Mickey to shut the door. He leaned over to close it. I suddenly noticed my jacket hem was sticking out, and gestured frantically for him to stop closing, leaning forward to tug it out of the way—but he'd already started swinging it shut, and it banged right into my head. Ow.

And I blacked out again, thinking: I really hope I don't meet

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

'' Hello, Jeanie,'' I said wearily as the blue girl gave me a look that told me she was not happy. She was generally not happy when she looked at me, but the look she gave me told me she was even more not happy than usual. I swallowed and looked around at my familiar old garden to distract myself. I received a little jolt as I realized how much I'd missed it.

I really was changing. I'd gotten homesick!

Shocking.

Jeanie's glare intensified as she spoke.'' Someone's been extra-careful not to come pay me a visit lately.''

'' Really?'' I said with interest.'' And who would that be?''

'' Lara!'' she positively spat.'' You've been avoiding us, and you know it—''

'' Us?'' I said innocently.'' It's only you.''

'' I'm a representative of we in charge of the timeline,'' she snapped impatiently.

'' Oh, that, right,'' I said with a sigh.

'' We've been trying to contact you for a while now,'' she continued irritably.'' You've been sleeping lightly, haven't you? And shockingly enough, you've even avoided fainting as well.''

'' Yeah, well, I've been playing it safe,'' I muttered, insulted.

'' Well, that was very irresponsible on your part,'' she said sharply.

'' Sorry!'' I snapped.

'' I spoke to the rest of we in charge of the timeline,'' she went on.'' After I told them what you'd been doing, they agreed to triple their efforts to fix your trigger.''

'' The stick?'' my blood went cold.'' But—but the six months aren't up yet!''

'' We had to hurry,'' she said coldly.'' You've been a great disappointment to all of us. We had to get you back to your own time before you further damaged our reputation. Instead of becoming a better person, you've become even greedier. We cannot let it be.''

I set my jaw, unable to believe all my effort was to be wasted. I didn't want to believe all my effort had been wasted. I'd gotten a review! I'd written nearly five novels!

Jeanie turned around and picked up something from the ground. When she faced me again, I saw that familiar old stupid stick. My blood went even colder.

'' Your time is up.''

As she spoke, I felt the wind pick up, and then I cried out as two enormous holes opened on either side of me, just like those sci-fi movies. The only difference here was that I knew I was dreaming.

One hole, the one on the right, was an opening back to Limbo. I saw the jagged rainbows and bright colours floating and splattering in the distance. My passage home.

The other was a view of my room in Martha's house. I saw the familiar rose-patterned wallpaper, the pens and paper strewn all over the floor. My residence in the past.

'' Because we cannot ignore our rules, you have the choice,'' said Jeanie quietly.'' You can choose to go back home, where everything will go back to normal, and you can continue your pathetic existence, having failed to take your last chance, the one we offered.

'' Or you can choose to go back to the lies and schemes you achieved in the past, where history will be rewritten according to your dishonest deeds. You will be the renowned author of the brilliant Harry Potter, and you will gain all the fame and fortune you could wish for. Choose now.''

'' I need more time,'' I said desperately.

'' You have no more time. If you touch the stick, you will be instantly transported home. You need to touch it for a safe passage in Limbo. To go back, you simply step into the window on your left.''

'' If I choose to stay in the past, can I ever come home again?''

'' No. The choice is permanent. You will never see us nor the stick again. Without it you would be helpless, unable to travel.''

'' But if I have the stick with me—''

'' You will not.''

I swallowed again. I hated this. I had no time to think, no time to think up a plan.

'' What about Mickey?'' I said worriedly.'' He knows where I came from. Will he still have the money?''

'' Your entire stay will be completely erased. All he will have is memories of you.''

'' But my work—''

'' You chose to work as a cheater. You work will be wasted.''

My face twisted and suddenly I felt my laziness disappear as anger boiled in my stomach. This wasn't fair. I'd worked too hard for this. I'd made myself better, I'd written for hours at an end…I couldn't – wouldn't waste it all.

Jeanie's words echoed in my head, and suddenly a mad, insane plan formed in my mind. I glared at her, speaking slowly.

'' I'm sorry.''

'' You should be!'' she snarled.'' You wasted the best opportunity you would ever get to become a better person. You are useless!''

I shook my head.'' I am not. Not anymore.''

And then I ran forward and kicked her hard in the shin.

She shrieked, and fell backwards; her head slammed against the metal bin and her eyelids fluttered as she groaned ( having hit my head frequently, I felt for her ). I wasted no time. I pulled off my jacket, the same one that had made me end up here, and used it to pick up the stick, wrapping it securely in the material, making sure it didn't come near my skin.

Jeanie groaned again, then she gasped as she opened her eyes and saw me walking away.

'' What are you doing?'' she screamed, struggling to get up.

I walked to the hole I wanted and looked at her calmly.'' You were wrong. I have a third choice.''

Her face twisted.'' I am not wrong! You are cheating again, girl. You cant have everything you want!''

I shrugged.'' I think I just did. And you were wrong about me. I'm not a bad person. I'm just doing the best I can.''

'' The worst you can, you mean!'' she screeched, her shape shimmering as she tried to get up. She was right; shape shifting does make humans nauseous. I looked away.

'' You should have chosen a stronger shape,'' I said.'' Buh-bye, Jeanie.''

And then I stepped into the hole to go back to the past, and looked back one last time. Jeanie's face was furious, disgusted. For some reason, it hurt me. The holes closed and then everything disappeared.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the cupboard of Mr Jones' store. Mickey was next to me. My head hurt.

'' Sorry about that,'' he said apologetically and I realized he meant the bump on my head. Well, it was his fault.'' But I had to close it before that official bloke saw us. He's gone now. Are you okay?''

I wasn't sure if I was. I shrugged.

'' Hey, where'd that come from?'' he asked suddenly and I looked down and saw myself clutching a stick poking out of the bundle of jacket it was wrapped in.

'' It's a long story,'' I said at last.


Author's Note: Dun dun dun DUN! Lara beat Jeanie up! Anyway, just a small reminder to review. i know this chapter probably wasnt as funny, but there is actually some action *cough* in it, so i felt that any more of Lara's exasperating rants would make it too much. The next one, however, should at least make you grin. But anyway! REVIEW!!!