Chapter 3: Reflection of the Past
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and all the other people who own it. Any screen names I use in this fic are made up, and I'm sorry if they really exist; I doubt if they do. Thanks to kinda scared: Lol, I don't have fifteen theories, at least I don't think so, Sweet Sorrow1, catherine24, Dimgwrthien Adeline, and JoeBob1379 for reviewing! There might be one or two more chapters. If there are, I'll have them up either before or after Christmas because the homework is starting to pile up!
I was seventy years old with a mild case of arthritis, and was still fully capable of typing away on my computer. I paused, thinking of how I got to this state. I was introduced to the computer at the young age of seven, and I loved it from the start. I was an avid fan of Harry Potter since I was ten, and enjoyed going to Harry Potter websites. The only problem was that I enjoyed the internet, and Harry Potter, a little too much. Ok, so I went to the grocery store and to the gas station for my morning cup of coffee and an occasional bingo game, where I made most of my money as the announcer. But other than that, I was hooked to the computer-and to Harry Potter. As for the merchandise, you name it; I probably have it or have had it at some point: the dolls, the cloaks, and all the cheesy merchandise you can imagine. How could someone live off being a bingo announcer? Well, I had retirement money to begin with, and I had saved money from winning the lottery when I was forty. I bought a little cottage in the woods, or my "forbidden forest", a computer, of course, and left the rest of the money in my retirement fund. I opened up a restaurant a few years ago called the "Broomsticks Coffee Shop" after The Three Broomsticks, which used to be a little renovated Dunkin' Donuts. I sold coffee, tea, and yes, butterbeer. Broomsticks did well at first, with other Harry Potter fans coming in who were much younger than me, but it soon became obvious that I was going to have to modernize the candle-lit shop. So I silently put away the butterbeer, renamed my shop, and put electricity in. After this reminiscence, I continued to type at the site, "HP for Oldies" in a forum entitled, "Am I the only seventy year old Harry Potter Fan?" I replied to this particular discussion with the following message: "No, you're definitely not the only seventy year old Harry Potter fan. I myself am seventy, and also love Harry Potter. Do you have any of the merchandise? I have any and all of it (sadly). I even opened up a restaurant that I originally called the "Broomsticks Coffee Shop" which I remodeled and renamed later for more business. Anyway, my email is Grannyhpfan123@HPforoldies.com; feel free to email me or reply to this post." Signed,
Grannyhpfan I then went to my own HP site, which was called www.GrannysnottoooldforHP.com, and wrote a story about my restaurant actually being a success. While I was writing, I eagerly awaited for the "You've got mail" message, which I reprogrammed to say, "You've got owls." Checking the weather on weather.com, I saw that a huge snowstorm was on its way. I'd have to go to the store to get some food before the storm started. Someone had to email me soon. I decided to go to the grocery store. At the grocery store, I picked out a few necessities: prune juice, Campbell's soup, water, and éclairs. I had to scan my own food at the check out counter. There was simply no human interaction at all these days. A few hours after I had taken a nap, I heard "You've got owls" on my computer. I instinctively darted my head toward the window for the owl that I trained myself to send messages to neighbors, and then smacked myself on the head. "Of course, that was just the computer!"
I darted to the computer with my walker and clicked on the mailbox with the yellow letter in it. There was a message from "TeenageHPfan." It read:
"Hello, I'm a teen who also loves Harry Potter. I stumbled across HPforoldies.com, and had to check it out for amusement. When I saw you had not only posted, but also replied to your own message, I knew there was something wrong. Let me get this straight; you're seventy and still love Harry Potter after all those years? Wow! That is a little weird, but strangely, I see myself in your position when I am that old. And you opened up a restaurant after Harry Potter? That's really amazing. Well, I know I'm not seventy, but I just had to reply to your message on that website. E- mail back! -TeenageHPfan
I went back to the website; I had posted and replied to my own message! I didn't remember doing it, either. Was I loosing my mind? Well, I hadn't lost my common sense. I emailed TeenageHPfan back this: "Hey, thanks for replying; I think it's funny that there's an HPforoldies.com too. I actually created it for fun. I just want you to know that it's not all that fun being a seventy-year-old fan of Harry Potter. I don't have any friends, I rarely go outside, and I have read Harry Potter so much that I know the books line by line. All I am saying is that you should take an interest in other things, like sports, drama, or anything that you like. I'm not saying that you shouldn't read Harry Potter, just read other stuff too." I clicked send, and looked out my window at the beautiful, yet disturbing sky. I put on my Harry Potter gloves, scarf, and hat, and stepped outside. I looked out as far as my eyes could see: at the city, with it's towering buildings, at the countryside, with its peaceful atmosphere, and at my little "forbidden forest." Then I looked up, and the first snowflake marking the storm landed on my nose. Beyond doubt, there was more to life than Harry Potter, and I still had time to experience other things. I got into my old station wagon, and not having a clear destination in mind, headed down the turning, weaving road. ~* End of Chapter 3. Please read and review! : ) *~
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and all the other people who own it. Any screen names I use in this fic are made up, and I'm sorry if they really exist; I doubt if they do. Thanks to kinda scared: Lol, I don't have fifteen theories, at least I don't think so, Sweet Sorrow1, catherine24, Dimgwrthien Adeline, and JoeBob1379 for reviewing! There might be one or two more chapters. If there are, I'll have them up either before or after Christmas because the homework is starting to pile up!
I was seventy years old with a mild case of arthritis, and was still fully capable of typing away on my computer. I paused, thinking of how I got to this state. I was introduced to the computer at the young age of seven, and I loved it from the start. I was an avid fan of Harry Potter since I was ten, and enjoyed going to Harry Potter websites. The only problem was that I enjoyed the internet, and Harry Potter, a little too much. Ok, so I went to the grocery store and to the gas station for my morning cup of coffee and an occasional bingo game, where I made most of my money as the announcer. But other than that, I was hooked to the computer-and to Harry Potter. As for the merchandise, you name it; I probably have it or have had it at some point: the dolls, the cloaks, and all the cheesy merchandise you can imagine. How could someone live off being a bingo announcer? Well, I had retirement money to begin with, and I had saved money from winning the lottery when I was forty. I bought a little cottage in the woods, or my "forbidden forest", a computer, of course, and left the rest of the money in my retirement fund. I opened up a restaurant a few years ago called the "Broomsticks Coffee Shop" after The Three Broomsticks, which used to be a little renovated Dunkin' Donuts. I sold coffee, tea, and yes, butterbeer. Broomsticks did well at first, with other Harry Potter fans coming in who were much younger than me, but it soon became obvious that I was going to have to modernize the candle-lit shop. So I silently put away the butterbeer, renamed my shop, and put electricity in. After this reminiscence, I continued to type at the site, "HP for Oldies" in a forum entitled, "Am I the only seventy year old Harry Potter Fan?" I replied to this particular discussion with the following message: "No, you're definitely not the only seventy year old Harry Potter fan. I myself am seventy, and also love Harry Potter. Do you have any of the merchandise? I have any and all of it (sadly). I even opened up a restaurant that I originally called the "Broomsticks Coffee Shop" which I remodeled and renamed later for more business. Anyway, my email is Grannyhpfan123@HPforoldies.com; feel free to email me or reply to this post." Signed,
Grannyhpfan I then went to my own HP site, which was called www.GrannysnottoooldforHP.com, and wrote a story about my restaurant actually being a success. While I was writing, I eagerly awaited for the "You've got mail" message, which I reprogrammed to say, "You've got owls." Checking the weather on weather.com, I saw that a huge snowstorm was on its way. I'd have to go to the store to get some food before the storm started. Someone had to email me soon. I decided to go to the grocery store. At the grocery store, I picked out a few necessities: prune juice, Campbell's soup, water, and éclairs. I had to scan my own food at the check out counter. There was simply no human interaction at all these days. A few hours after I had taken a nap, I heard "You've got owls" on my computer. I instinctively darted my head toward the window for the owl that I trained myself to send messages to neighbors, and then smacked myself on the head. "Of course, that was just the computer!"
I darted to the computer with my walker and clicked on the mailbox with the yellow letter in it. There was a message from "TeenageHPfan." It read:
"Hello, I'm a teen who also loves Harry Potter. I stumbled across HPforoldies.com, and had to check it out for amusement. When I saw you had not only posted, but also replied to your own message, I knew there was something wrong. Let me get this straight; you're seventy and still love Harry Potter after all those years? Wow! That is a little weird, but strangely, I see myself in your position when I am that old. And you opened up a restaurant after Harry Potter? That's really amazing. Well, I know I'm not seventy, but I just had to reply to your message on that website. E- mail back! -TeenageHPfan
I went back to the website; I had posted and replied to my own message! I didn't remember doing it, either. Was I loosing my mind? Well, I hadn't lost my common sense. I emailed TeenageHPfan back this: "Hey, thanks for replying; I think it's funny that there's an HPforoldies.com too. I actually created it for fun. I just want you to know that it's not all that fun being a seventy-year-old fan of Harry Potter. I don't have any friends, I rarely go outside, and I have read Harry Potter so much that I know the books line by line. All I am saying is that you should take an interest in other things, like sports, drama, or anything that you like. I'm not saying that you shouldn't read Harry Potter, just read other stuff too." I clicked send, and looked out my window at the beautiful, yet disturbing sky. I put on my Harry Potter gloves, scarf, and hat, and stepped outside. I looked out as far as my eyes could see: at the city, with it's towering buildings, at the countryside, with its peaceful atmosphere, and at my little "forbidden forest." Then I looked up, and the first snowflake marking the storm landed on my nose. Beyond doubt, there was more to life than Harry Potter, and I still had time to experience other things. I got into my old station wagon, and not having a clear destination in mind, headed down the turning, weaving road. ~* End of Chapter 3. Please read and review! : ) *~