A/n: Holy cow. I did NOT think I'd get these many readers, let
alone reviews, in a single day. I'm overwhelmed. Thank you. And a GIANT thanks
to MacGyverMagic for catching that thing with
the wizard publishers– as you can see, I clarified that in this chapter. Thanks
again, all you people! You're wonderful! ~Jerry
After dinner that night Harry and Ron decided to get a crack on
reading Harry's aura so that they would be ready for when McGonagall piled on
the Transfiguration homework. The Gryffindor Fifth Years were expecting a hard
year, for they were taking their O.W.L.s in the spring, and naturally teachers
such as Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick would squeeze in all the information
they could possibly fit inside their students' brains to better prepare
them.
Harry correctly predicted that Hagrid wouldn't have any homework
for his class, but he and the rest of the Gryffindors were pleasantly surprised
about what a promising class Care of Magical Creatures was this year. They spent
their first day back plucking tail feathers from Fwoopers, which were African
birds with highly wild colors decorating their plumage, ranging from lime green
to purple.
Hagrid set forth a difficult task, telling his Fifth Years that
he needed the Fwoopers' tail feathers to make quills that would be sold at
Flourish and Blotts. He also added that each student would get commissions for
their feathers, depending on how intact the feathers were.
Although the Fifth Years set out to do Hagrid's bidding with
high hopes, they found that Fwoopers were irritable birds that hated having
their tail feathers plucked, and they made silent squawking noises at the
students. Hagrid explained that these Fwoopers had their voices muted because
their songs were infamous for driving one insane. But the Fwoopers got their
angry messages across as they scratched, bit, and ruffled their wings at the
students. Even Draco Malfoy had to work hard to keep his Fwooper in control. All
in all, it was an interesting first day back. Plus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione
made two Galleons and seven Knuts between the three of them.
Harry's thoughts were interrupted when Ron said rather rudely
that he didn't have all night to work on Divination, especially when Trelawney
said they only needed half an hour. Harry turned his attention back to
Ron.
"Right. Let me just copy down my notes from class before we do
my aura," Harry said. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and started
copying down his notes.
Ron looked at what Harry was doing. "You think she'll take it?"
he asked.
"Sure. I'm just spitting back what she said in class. Isn't that
what teachers like?"
"Usually, yes, but…sometimes that doesn't work."
Harry sighed. He did feel a little scrupulous about just copying
down notes and calling it homework…but not that scrupulous, as most, if not all,
of the stuff that Harry turned in was made up anyway.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. I'll just spice it up with some
narrative flare," Harry said at last, crumpling up his parchment and rewriting
his name on a new piece. Instead of simply writing down, "Ron's aura has a
greenish color," Harry wrote, "I see a great field of green within my friend Ron
Weasley's aura, which screams out his compassionate and sensitive side with a
passion…."
"That's good," Ron said, reading over Harry's shoulder. Within
less than ten minutes, Harry was done with his Divination homework.
"All right…my turn," Harry said.
Ron nodded. "Let's see…what does chapter six of our book even
say?"
"Dunno, but I bet it's all rubbish."
Ron flipped to the correct page of his book. He started skimming
until he found a few good things about Harry.
"Let's see…she's a total sap for you and your tragic life…why
don't we just look for that sort of stuff?" Ron said as he skimmed.
"Yeah, good call," Harry said. "Okay. Too much blue means
blocked perceptions…that'd be good. Didn't she say something about blue being
easy to see?"
"Ah," Ron said in Professor Trelawney's misty voice. "I see you
possess the mark of melancholy, worrying, rushing, and fearfulness."
Harry snorted. They continued on, making certain they got all
the most tragic elements they could out of the yellows and blues without
sounding redundant, and it took Ron less time to do his homework than it took
Harry to copy his.
"I see you are working ever so hard on your Divination, for a
change."
Harry turned and saw Hermione approaching. She peered over Ron's
shoulder.
"Ah, of course," she said, "what would Divination be without a
little bit of made up calamity?"
"Hey, there's no denying that the planets have spoken," Ron
yawned.
"The same planets you made up last year?"
"Yeah. Those planets." Ron filed away his homework.
"What brings you here?" Harry asked as Hermione sat down in an
easy chair. He noticed Hermione had that look on her, the look that clearly said
she was up to something, and it must not be good for either Harry or
Ron.
Hermione grinned. "They replied to me."
It took Harry a moment to think of what Hermione was talking
about.
"So soon?" he asked.
Hermione held up an official looking piece of
parchment.
Harry picked it up. Two words were written on it:
You sure?
"Naturally, I wrote back right away, saying I'd bet my life on
it." Hermione looked smug.
"Hermione," Harry said. "Are you sure? I mean, I looked
into your thing on wizard publishers this afternoon, and you weren't that
accurate. Quidditch Through the Ages alone was published by Whizz Hard
Books in Diagon Alley, and there are other wizard publishers out there too, like
Obscurus Books and Merlin Publishers, Inc."
"Ah, but did you look up where those books were published?"
Hermione asked. "Whizz Hard is a Romanian publisher, even though it has a branch
in London. Obscurus Books is Russian, and Merlin Publishers, Inc. was originally
English but moved to Scotland a few years ago."
Harry looked at Hermione, puzzled.
"Hermione, how do you know all this?" Ron asked.
"Because," Hermione turned slightly pink. "A few summers ago I
thought I could get a story published. Nothing came out of it, of course, but I
did submit to a lot of wizard publishers as well as some Muggle ones, too." She
said all this very fast.
Harry looked at Hermione with his mouth slightly open as she sat
there, looking into the fire.
"I didn't know you liked to write," Harry said at last, feeling
as stupid as he sounded.
"Yeah. It's a small habit of mine," Hermione said, sounding like
she was trying to sound off-handish about it.
There was a deep pause in the conversation.
"Hey, wait!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "So that's the real reason
you hated that Sveeter woman so much. She not only was famous for her works, but
she made everything up!"
"Yeah, exactly," Hermione said, sounding pleased that Ron made
that connection. "And it's also why I want to see what this Rowling person has
in mind in writing about Harry. About us. I mean, is she in it for fame and
fortune, or does she really care about her art?"
Hermione sighed. "Oh well. Off to bed, right?"
Harry and Ron nodded. They were tired; the ride in
Hogwarts Express and the first day back were always trying. Harry yawned, which
made Ron yawn, and then Hermione.
"All right. Time to sleep," Hermione said with a giggle. She
stood, taking the parchment with her. Ron and Harry got up also, taking their
Divination homework with them.
As Harry undressed that night and crawled into his bed, he
couldn't help but wonder about this Rowling lady. He also wondered whether
somehow, he was being watched in his own four-poster.
But even then, the idea seemed obscure to
Harry.