A/n: well, I just got back from a lovely trip to NAU at journalism camp…it was really pretty there, and I got away from the heat in The Ol' Pueblo

A/n: well, I just got back from a lovely trip to NAU at journalism camp…it was really pretty there, and I got away from the heat in The Ol' Pueblo. But, I lost a lot of sleep and am finally caught up. Further, I missed out on writing and working on this fanfic…also, I've been spending most of my writing time with ZONKOFRED, we've been collaborating on this Dumbledore fic…if you're interested, visit here for details. In spite of all this time I haven't had, I have been thinking a lot of this fic, and I can't wait to see the outcome of it. You have all been so very encouraging in your reviews, and I can't thank you enough – you're all simply wonderful! Anyway. I hope you enjoy this next chapter (and if not, let me know)! ~Jerry

"Mr Potter! Miss Granger!"

Harry and Hermione jumped when Professor McGonagall shouted their names. They were in the hall, about to meet Ron for lunch after a rather restful walk across the lake. Professor McGonagall looked down at the two rather disapprovingly, but that may have been because she called them three times before they noticed she was there.

"Where have you been? I've been trying to find you all morning!" she said, her mouth getting tighter with each word.

"Oh, er…sorry, Professor McGonagall," Hermione squeaked. Harry said nothing.

McGonagall looked at the two, as though debating with herself whether she should keep bellowing or not, but she seemed to reach the conclusion that since neither of them knew she had been looking for them, it would be unfair to chastise them.

"Yes, well…I am here to say that Professor Dumbledore wanted to see you at once, and that I was to escort you to his office the moment I found you…of course, I don't think he expected it would take this long…" McGonagall sighed, angry that she couldn't do anything about the matter at hand. "Anyway. Follow me, please."

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of pure dread. Dumbledore's office…this had to be bad. Still, they had no choice but to follow McGonagall all the way to the gargoyle. She pointed her wand at it and said, "Drooble's!" The gargoyle walked away to let in the teacher and students.

Harry adored Dumbledore's office, which was long and elegant and full of great gizmos floating about, but he just wished that every time he was in there, he wasn't in some sort of trouble or emergency. Again he felt that queasiness that only Dumbledore's office could bring, and as he sat down in a chair and Hermione joined him in the next seat, he looked down at the floor, unable to think of what sort of thing he and Hermione could've done to land themselves in the headmaster's office. Of course, if he and Ron were called in, that would have been something different altogether, but instead it was Harry and Hermione the Prefect, so Harry could only fathom what sort of scheme Dumbledore thought they cooked up.

"I'll tell him you're here," McGonagall said, stepping out of the room. Then, she gave the two a thin-lipped smile. This baffled Harry, but it somehow raised his spirits. Whatever they were doing there, it probably wasn't because they were in trouble.

After McGonagall left, Dumbledore came in almost immediately, buzzing about in a usual cheerful fashion. He positively beamed at Harry and Hermione, who could only stare back, utterly bewildered. In his hand he clutched an opened envelope, which contained a letter to him and a smaller envelope.

"I just wanted to commend you for your excellent detective work," Dumbledore said, ignoring all greetings. "Especially you, Miss Granger. You saw that article for what it was and played to your instincts. Of course, I could only expect no less of you two, but it was still such a pleasant surprise to see you found out who she was."

"Who?" Harry asked, not understanding.

"Why, Miss Rowling, of course," Dumbledore said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You sought her out. You wrote to her. And she wrote back – only this time, she thought she'd talk to me for approval. And yes, I do approve, whatever you arrange. She wanted to meet at her house…you have my permission to leave Hogwarts. That's all I wanted to say."

He stood up, handed Hermione the envelope, which was addressed to her, and excused the two down to lunch. Harry and Hermione didn't say one word until they were out of Dumbledore's office and far from earshot.

"What do you make of that?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Very fishy," Hermione said as if what she most suspected came true.

Harry didn't prod any further. Instead he said, "well, what are we waiting for? Open up the letter, let's see what she had to say."

Hermione opened the letter addressed to her and read the letter. It had the handwriting of someone very neat and precise, someone like Hermione herself, so she read rather easily:

Dear Miss Granger, and Mr Potter, if you're there:

I would be very much interested, as well as honored, to meet with you over tea. Unfortunately I have a very tight schedule to keep and cannot really meet with you until Hallowe'en, and even then it can only be at my house. If you are interested, do tell me, and I will make all arrangements with Professor Dumbledore.

I am sorry if I have inconvenienced you in any fashion, and I promise that I will make it all up to you in the end. There is so much I would like to say to you, Mr Potter, but it couldn't all be said in just this letter.

Talk to Professor Dumbledore about making arrangements to meet at my house this Hallowe'en. I do hope you can come. If, for some reason, you cannot make it, write back and let me know so we can make further arrangements.

Most sincerely,

Joanne Kathleen Rowling

Harry took the letter from Hermione's hands and felt goosebumps raise all over his body. He clutched the letter in his hands and read it again for himself.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just…" Harry glanced at the letter. "I know this person's handwriting. I'm not certain how, or why, but I definitely know it. Just let me think…" But as Harry tried to remember where he saw Miss Rowling's handwriting, nothing came to him.

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione replied. "Maybe it's just because of the forgeries. It does have the same strokes and pressure points, you know."

"No, it's nothing like that," Harry said. "I can't explain it. It's more of a gut feeling than anything. Like something lost out of a forgotten memory, something beyond reality. I don't know. We have to meet Ron for lunch."

He started walking, rather brusquely, and then Hermione called for him to wait, so he paused.

"Well, we better tell Ms Rowling that we can meet her, in any event," Hermione said. "Dumbledore and she both sounded very excited…I don't know, you want to, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Harry said, resuming his fast pace. "We better ask Ron if he does, too, you know. It's only fair."

"Yeah, okay," Hermione said, happy that Harry was taking interest in something so touchy to him. "So I'll write back and tell her Hallowe'en will be fine, and that she and Dumbledore can make whatever arrangements they like?"

"Sounds good," Harry said.

"Okay, will do then!" Hermione ran off in the other direction. Harry watched her, wondering again why it was that he felt he wasn't the only one watching her. Who knew. All he knew for sure was, Hallowe'en wasn't for another four weeks, and until then, he would be stuck with the mystery of who Joanne Rowling was.

Or what she was doing.