02 June 1998

The alarm rang. Harry rolled over and hit the snooze bar. Hermione stirred next to him. She was sleeping on his right arm, lying on it in a way that had caused him to lose all feeling in that extremity.

'Why so early?' she complained groggily.

'Kingsley wanted us at the Ministry this morning, remember?' Harry reminded her. 'Said something about an "opportunity" that he's been compelled to pass on to us.'

Hermione yawned. 'I just don't get why that stupid woman had to schedule the meeting at eight bloody o'clock in the morning.'

Harry leaned in to kiss her good morning. 'Do you think Ron'll be late?'

Hermione sighed. 'Probably. Actually, I don't know if he'd even show up. You know how he's been really messed up since the battle.'

Harry grunted darkly, empathising wordlessly with his friend. 'We should get up and get ready. We don't want to be late in case Ron doesn't appear.'

Harry and Hermione reluctantly dragged themselves out of bed. They brushed their teeth while Kreacher made breakfast. They were not planning to stay at Grimmauld Place for long, and Harry had a feeling that he would quite miss Kreacher when they inevitably moved out.

After downing a fry-up and a cup of coffee, the two dressed themselves in formal muggle clothes and left for the Ministry via the Tube. It was odd. Both preferred muggle transit even though they could apparate freely. Being on the run for a year and apparating up and down the country seemed to have had an effect on them.

'At least the Tube's not packed with people,' Hermione said, rubbing her eyes. She was still looking like she had just woken up. Her hair was still rather unruly, and her cheeks had not yet lost their light morning pink.

They disembarked at Westminster station and made their way to the Ministry entrance on Whitehall. The entered, registered their wands at the security desk, and made their way into one of the lifts to the Minister's office.

Kingsley's secretary sent them through without a word, and Harry opened the door. There was Kingsley sitting behind his desk, looking rather tired, and two empty flasks of what Harry presumed to be Invigoration Draught set off to the right of his workspace. Off to the left side of his desk sat a middle-aged woman with blond hair.

'Harry, Hermione. Good morning,' Kingsley greeted. His voice was hoarse and raspy. He must not have slept for a while.

'Good morning, Kingsley,' Harry said.

Kingsley nodded and bade the two teens to sit, not bothering to ask how they were doing, for the answer was quite obvious.

'What may we do for you today?' Hermione asked.

'Ah. I wanted to introduce you to Miss Joanne Rowling,' Kingsley said, gesturing to the blond woman, 'She is a squib, living and working in the muggle world as a writer. Miss Rowling, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley should be here, but…'

'He might still be sleeping,' Hermione said. 'He had a long night last night.'

'I understand that,' Kingsley replied solemnly, catching the unsaid. Rowling did not seem to pick up on it, though, and kept smiling all-too-cheerfully. 'It's a difficult time for him and his family, of course. I won't put much store by his lateness or absence. Now, Miss Rowling, what offer did you have to make to Mister Potter and Miss Granger here?'

The blond woman smiled at the two teens, who forced a smile back. 'Well, as Minister Shacklebolt said, I'm a writer in the muggle world,' she began. 'I've heard your story of course, Mister Potter. Even as a squib, I still keep tabs on the magical world. Now…your story…quite remarkable…quite inspirational. I thought that it could be good material for muggle fiction. The events can be presented as fantasy. I feel that muggle readers will be quite receptive.'

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. They ought to have seen this coming. Someone wanted to take advantage of their fame and make a few Galleons – or Pounds – in this case, for themselves.

'Well?' Rowling asked eagerly. 'What are your thoughts on the idea?'

'I don't like it,' Harry replied snappishly, but he did not care. 'I don't like it at all. I've had enough of people taking my "life story" and spinning it into something stupid so they could make some quick money. No thank you. I just want to live a quiet life without all this stupid publicity.'

'The books will be released in the muggle world and presented as fiction,' Rowling reminded them. 'There'll be some edits for narrative's sake, and the finished product won't be recognized as "real events" by anyone. They'll think it's just a story. You won't get any more publicity from this. More than you already get, of course.'

'Thanks for reminding me,' Harry muttered darkly.

Rowling either did not hear or was stubbornly undeterred. 'I offer you half of all profits made by the books or anything associated with the books,' she proposed. 'I'm anticipating your story to be a big hit in the muggle world, Mister Potter. Think of the Galleons.'

Harry shook his head. What did this woman not get? He did not need the money, he did not want the publicity, he most certainly did not want all that he had suffered through to be presented as fictitious events. He was about to snap back 'no' when Hermione stopped him.

'Kingsley, can you give us a few minutes to talk about this in private?'

Kingsley nodded and gestured to a private conference room off to his right. Hermione pulled Harry out of his chair and dragged him in.

Harry turned to look at her. Her face was pale and her lips were trembling in nervousness.

'What?' he asked rather roughly, immediately regretting the tone of his voice.

'Look, Harry…uh…hear me out. Don't jump down my throat, please…' she stammered nervously.

'I'd always listen to what you have to say,' Harry replied automatically.

'I think you should take it.' She held up a hand to stifle Harry's protest. 'Look, I know you don't care about the money, and I'm not suggesting you take it for that reason.'

'What, then?'

'Remember that foundation that you've been talking about setting up?'

Harry nodded. 'For mistreated orphans in the muggle and magical world,' he recited.

'Well, your vault's not bottomless,' Hermione said. 'If you want to support it for more than maybe a few years without bankrupting yourself, you'll need some other source of funding.'

Harry nodded in understanding. 'You're saying that this can fund it…'

Hermione shrugged. 'Uh…well…growing up in the muggle world, I read stories like The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia. Those were fantasy stories and they were really popular. Maybe that Rowling woman's right. Your story could be very successful as muggle fiction, and that'd give you the money you'll need to support what you want to do.'

'You have a point,' Harry conceded with a sigh. 'But it's not just my story, Hermione. It's yours as much as it's mine. And Ron's, and Sirius's, and Dumbledore's. Well, everyone else's. I can't just…I can't just decide for them…to sell out their lives.'

'I'd be okay with it knowing you're not intending to pocket any of the money and that it's going to a good cause,' Hermione replied gently. 'Ron would be, too. Honestly, do you think Ron would really complain about getting some time in the spotlight?'

Harry shook his head. 'He'd lap it all up.'

'Yeah. I know you hate it,' Hermione said sadly.

Harry shrugged. 'It is what it is. I understand why he's like that sometimes. What about Sirius, though, my parents, Dumbledore? Everyone who's died. I can't just pass that off as fiction.'

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him. 'Sirius and your mum and dad, and definitely Dumbledore, would approve of what you're planning to do with the money, I think. I'm not comfortable with passing anything off as fiction, either, but…well…you can really do a lot of good with it. It might outweigh the bad…'

Harry considered this. What Hermione was saying was true. If he wanted to grow his foundation to the scale that he wanted, he would need money. A lot of money. More money than his vaults could provide. If he took Rowling up on this offer, then he might have a secure source of funding without the need to sit through stuffy meetings with arrogant donors who'd question his every decision.

Harry sighed. 'You have a point,' he said finally. 'But maybe…maybe we shouldn't give her everything she wants immediately.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, maybe…maybe we let her write the story of our first year before we give her anything else,' he suggested. 'If it comes out okay and is reasonably successful, then we can give her the permission for the rest. We also need to set some terms. You know, the story has to be true to what happened in both the physical setting, characters, and plotline. That way, she can't just…run away with it.'

Hermione nodded. 'I think that's a brilliant idea, Harry. So…are you sure you want to do this?'

'I do,' Harry replied firmly in agreement. 'I – we – could end up helping a lot of people this way. I think it's worth it. Let's tell her.'

Harry and Hermione exited the room. Rowling was looking way too eager for Harry's comfort, but he put that aside from now and thought of the foundation that he might now be able to found and fund.

'Have you reached a decision?' she asked bouncily.

Harry nodded. 'We have.'

'And?'

Harry took a deep breath. 'We'll go through with it, but we have conditions.'

'Name them.'

'We'll only give you the rights to the story of our first year for now,' Harry said. 'If your…adaptation…is acceptable, then we'll think about granting you the rights to subsequent years.'

Rowling nodded. 'That's fine. Any other conditions?'

'Everything must be as accurate as possible,' Harry demanded. 'That includes the descriptions of places, the descriptions and characterizations of, well, characters. Your adapted plot needs to be as true as possible to what actually happened – within reason. If you need to make a few changes here and there that don't impact the overall story, then that's fine. I also ask you to be respectful to what actually happened. Don't distort who we are just to suit your story. Don't leave out some of the…less savoury…details. People need to know. Don't make me out to be some sort of "superhero", because I'm not. That's all.'

'I accept all your demands,' Rowling replied immediately.

Harry nodded and turned to Kingsley. 'Will you draw up a contract?'

'I will have the Ministry notary office write one up and sent to both of you to sign,' Kingsley replied. 'I've noted all of your conditions and Miss Rowling's offer of ceding to you half of her profits here. Once the contract is signed, then Miss Rowling, you will have permission to write and market your story.'

'Great,' Rowling chirped excitedly. 'Well, Mister Potter, Miss Granger, we'll need to schedule a time for some interviews. I'll need notes. Perhaps Mister Weasley would be necessary, too?'

Hermione nodded. 'You'll need all three of us. We went through it together…most of it. We can owl…or…you live in the muggle world, don't you?' Rowling nodded. Hermione took a piece of parchment off of Kingsley's desk and scribbled her telephone number on it. 'Just call us and we can sort this out.'

Rowling was barely containing her excitement. She stuck out her hand and Harry and Hermione reluctantly shook it.

'Thank you for meeting me. I look forward to working with you,' she sang as she left Kingsley's office.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. Things were going to be interesting.

A/N: This will be a bit of a crack fic, along with some fluff between Harry and Hermione. There won't be any character bashing except for bashing of JKR in this story, but let's face it, she more than deserves it for Romione and That-Play-That-I'll-Spare-You-From-Remembering. I'll be writing this on a basis of 'whenever I can/feel the story bugging me to be written', in between writing for my main project, The Flame of Resistance (psst…that was supposed to be a slick shameless self promo…seriously, please go check it out!), so updates will come irregularly (though that does not imply sparingly!). This story doesn't take itself seriously, and neither will I. Some liberties will be taken with the canon and IRL universe, but this is all for fun. And for making fun of JKR, which I think is a worthy cause.