e
Hermione was exhausted. She was grateful to have such good friends who knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn't stay at the party any longer, even if it was in her honor.
Hours earlier, she had presented her book, "Complications of Magic Exchange by Filtration Between Wizards and House-Elves." A work spanning more than a thousand pages, it had taken her over five years of hard research to complete. Hermione knew that, aside from a handful of academics, hardly anyone would read it—but she didn't care. The personal satisfaction of completing the work and everything she had learned along the way was what truly mattered.
She let her tired body sink into the plush sofa, slipped off her heels with a sigh, and took a long sip of her cold beer. She was planning to read something light or turn on the television—anything that didn't require too much brainpower—when an owl tapped on her window.
With a flick of her wand, Hermione opened the window. It was a common owl, one of those that didn't even seem real, but rather one of the famous "clone owls": cheap, disposable, and increasingly popular.
"Well, let's read this before switching my brain off," she muttered.
HPHPHP
XXXX
Dear Miss Granger,
The purpose of this totally non-generic letter is to inform you that I have read your magnificent and inspiring work. I would be delighted to collaborate with you to turn this piece into a comic or a work of art, as I am a commissioned artist.
My contact information is:
Fake Street, number 3, 2, 1.
Sincerely,
Iama Scammer
XXXX
HPHPHP
Hermione snorted.
"Sure, they read my thousand-page book in less than two hours..."
For a moment, she felt tempted to accept this so-called artist's offer, just to see how they'd manage to turn her dense and exhaustive scientific report into a comic.
She sighed, set the letter aside, and let the futility of the moment fade away.
...