Eldred Worple was getting very impatient. "Don't you understand, minister? The muggle world has as much right to know Harry's story as our world. They were in as much danger and were saved form you-know-who too!"
"but Eldred, this will reveal our existence. We worked on hiding ourselves thousands of years now we can't let it all go just for a story"
"a STORY!" snapped Eldred, "this is legend! This is - this is . . . " but he was lost for words.
"Sorry, Worlope, but your book was made for the magical world only. Muggles won't even understand it. They don't know our world."
"But you're forgetting, I will not write it the same way, I will explain everything in muggle light. I have muggle friends who will be thrilled to help me. And we can write it off as fantasy. Fiction. Muggles have that."
"What is fiction?"
"That's what I am trying to explain to you. We don't have to reveal ourselves in order to tell the story."
"Ok, but we can't let you be the author. These books will be best sellers even in the muggle world. If they know you are the author you will be famous, and they will find out all about you..."
"No problem! I can get an innocent muggle to write it. Someone who will never even know this is not merely his own imagination"
The next day, J.K. Rowling was sitting in a train. She noticed a strange man staring at her, as though reading her mind. She tried not to look at him or feel uncomfortable, but she couldn't help noticing this man suddenly flash a wooden stick in her direction. The man left the train.
A few seconds later she forgot all about that man but she suddenly had a vision of a little boy with messy black hair, green eyes, and a lightning-bolt shaped scar...
If you liked it or hated it please tell me. R&R