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Chapter 12 - A Book For The Muggles

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1 Chapter 12 - A Book For The Muggles on Fri Jan 14, 2011 8:09 am

Mrs.KreszentiaBlack

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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, a young muggle 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...


____________



Piers Polkiss, Dudley Dursley's old time freind, and once an active member of Dudley's gang, was now a grown man. He was the owner of a big department-store chain. He had little patience with memories from the past, and his entire rowdy childhood was neatly packed away in a few dusty cells in the back of his brain. He had no time for get-together with old friends, and he didn't see Dudley since Secondary school. However, on one Tuesday morning, something happened that brought a portion of his childhood back into his everyday thoughts.

The sky was cloudy and dark. The rain was gushing down in torrents forming dirty puddles on every inch of the sidewalk. Piers was trudging along huddled in his rain-coat, cursing the darkness, the puddles, and the weather in general. As he was passing by a lighted book shop, he decided that maybe he should step inside for a while, just to get away from all the water.

Book-shops were definitely not a regular place for Piers Polkiss to enter, and he felt pretty awkward as the shop-keeper asked him if he needed help.

"No, thanks," said Piers, "I am just looking around."

Piers walked down the isles of books pretending to show some interest, when, suddenly, His eyes rested on a book called "Harry Potter."

Hey, that's weird, he thought, I knew someone, once by that name.

Piers would never have given this a second thought if not for the book shop keeper who has just walked by to see what he is looking at. Piers had to show an interest in something, so he took that book out and inspected it.

Piers looked carelessly at the face on the cover of the book and did a double-take. This wasn't exactly the way Harry Potter looked, but it was alarmingly close. The glasses, the black hair and the pale face reminded him very much of that freak cousin Dudley used to abuse.

"I see you, like many others, have discovered this great book," said the shop keeper startling Piers, "Can you believe a poor woman on welfare wrote this in cafes on paper napkins? Now she is richer than our queen! Look where imagination can take you."

Piers looked at the book-cover again. So it's just some woman's imagination, he laughed to himself wow, for a second I thought someone had actually taken the time to write a book about that weirdo. Of course, there are many Harrys and Potters in the world, so some woman chose that name for her fictional character.

Two minutes later he walked out of the shop cursing the rain again. When he got home, he managed to get that book clean out of his mind, but he just couldn't shake that creepy feeling that he had at the shop. For as he was putting the book back on it's shelf he couldn't help noticing that just like the Potter he knew all those years ago, that boy in the picture had on his forehead a lightning-bolt shaped scar.


THE END



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