Trafficking with Triffids
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling's copyright of characters and locations is acknowledged.
A/n: the action takes place some time after the events of OotP.
Chapter 1: The Agonies of Authorship
We authors have a huge responsibility to our public, a responsibility I can assure my many thousands of devoted readers that I am most conscious of. And so I am hard at work, putting the finishing touches to my latest article, which I know is so eagerly awaited: a highly important piece, dealing with the characteristics of the North American triffid (triffidus N. Americanus), a species which differs from all other known species of triffid in that it is to be found chiefly in North America. But first, the poetic muse has inspired me, and I make haste to record these deathless lines, lest they should be lost to posterity:
My head is sore,
My eyes are raw;
On triffid lore
I gaze and pore,
As I strive to complete the latest instalment of my series of articles for the Quibbler.
Memo to myself: possibly consider if that last line might need slight adjustment. I am, after all, a perfectionist.
The village of Ottery St Frideswide is remembered by historians for its witch trials in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, but today it is chiefly visited by tourists who come to admire its immaculate thatched cottages clustered around the well-tended village green. Only one cottage detracts from the view: in the far corner of the green, number thirteen has a dilapidated and forlorn appearance. Its eccentric owner is shunned by the other residents, and the rickety front gate and overgrown garden path are seldom used.
Inside, the owner was sitting by an open window, struggling with a muggle device he had never really got the hang of: a typewriter. Gazing in perplexity at the strange arrangement of its keys, he realised suddenly that the longest word you can type with the letters of one line of the typewriter is typewriter! Surely this was a discovery worthy of the front page! – But then he had already filled that with a most important article on the impact of fluoridation on the livelihood of the tooth fairy. And in any case, he reflected, the printer was waiting for the copy for the Halloween issue, and he only needed to receive the triffid article to complete the final few lines on the back page. At that, there was a high pitched squeak, and a flutter of wings, and he looked up to see the small creature crouched on the window sill. He reached forward gingerly to take the letter, trying to avoid the open mouth with its wickedly-pointed teeth. A moment later, as he winced in pain and sucked his bleeding finger, Siderius Lovegood reflected bitterly that, of all his correspondents, only Aberforth would be crazy enough to use a bat instead of an owl.