I’m not afraid to say that I’m a Potter Fan. I’m a Bolt Head. I’m a muggle, but my loves goes to Harry. I remember my first Harry experience. My cousin, Molly, was head over heels for the little magic maker, and she insisted that I read his books.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be seen reading a Harry Potter book around High School, so I compromised. I bought the audio tape and listened to it in my Walkman (yes, I do own one of those) and pretended to be rocking out to Billy Joel instead.
“Some lovers just a hide up their hearts…”
I, too, fell head over heels. Since then I’ve read every book instead of listen to. I feel a bit sheepish at the compromise I’d made now. That is why my latest news is so exciting.
I happen to have an advance copy of Chapter One of the newest Harry Potter book. This is hot and new. Still in development, even this chapter is more of an idea of what the final is going to be. It’s terribly small and there is, as yet, no title for the book decided on.
I feel it is my duty to share this manuscript with my loyal readers. I hope you enjoy this somewhat edited version that I have typed out here for your perusal. Enjoy.
By J.K. Rowling
It was dark. It’s always dark. There was Mr. Dursely, Harry’s uncle, prattling on and on downstairs. Harry didn’t care anymore. Harry wasn’t there for anyone. Harry existed on the brink of everything these f@#$ing people understood. Bloody squatters.
“Harry. Come down here please,” croaked Mr. Dursely.
“I think I’ll stay where I am, thank you.” Harry was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had placed there a poster of the latest pop star in the Magic realm. Her name was Britney Spells. The Dursleys had not much liked the poster, for how racy an image it was, but they didn’t protest much when Harry pulled a knife on them.
Harry rolled to his side. There didn’t seem to be much point in staying here or in going back to Hogwarts. There didn’t seem much point in anything anymore. The Dursleys let him get his regular owl mail, but he didn’t bother responding to most of the mail he got. It seemed that everyone else was getting on rather fine. Why did they need him?
All he seemed to do was bring darkness. Lord Voldermort had simply followed him step by step. All his time and energy was put into stopping Voldermort one more time. Just one more time, Harry, they said. Just one more time.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. This was too much f@#$ing pressure. They didn’t understand the s#$% he saw in his dreams. They didn’t understand that he had nightmares so terrible that he woke up sweating blood. He couldn’t tell them, either, because they would only feel sorry for him.
He didn’t want that. God, he didn’t want that.
Harry got up soundlessly and walked into the bathroom. He closed the door as quietly as he could and stared at himself in the mirror. This was it, he thought. This was an end to a horrible thing, he told himself.
He ran the faucet and let the cold water wash over his wrists. God. He hadn’t seen his eyes for a long long time. They looked worn and old. He looked dead, for Ch#$%’s sake. It was fitting enough, to look dead.
“This will be the greatest thing I’ve ever done,” was the last thing he said.
Boy was that funny or what?! That J.K. Rowling gets me every time! I can’t wait until the book is completed. That having been said, I can’t hold onto this forever. It’ll be a short time and I’ll be selling this on eBay so I can buy crack. But remember, I gave it to you guys for free.