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Author: Bekken Story: Untitled Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 5 Words: 16,186
Disclaimer: I am not, do not own, and am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, and all characters referred to from the Harry Potter book series belong to her. Nor do I have any connection to Warner Bros., Scholastic Publishing, Christopher Little Publishing, and various other publishing houses that have copyrighted Harry Potter and characters. * At the centre of the page, in large, bold lettering, it read, "AFTERWORD" Interested, he turned the page. "Well, that's it. The end of the book. It's over. I'm almost…I'm almost sad over it. It may have been painful, and absolutely awful to write, but I'm going to miss it. It was sort of…sort of nice being able to write down my memoirs. And now I suppose that all of you reading are probably wondering 'Why is she journaling in this book?' Well. I do have a point. I swear. When I began this book, I was fresh meat, as it's referred to in the publishing world. A young, unpublished author with high goals, and lots of ideas. I was ready for anything! What I didn't count on was how emotionally draining the book could be. I'd write a bit, cross it out, rewrite it, cross that out, and then write the same thing I'd written in the first place. It hurt to relive some of those memories. Sometimes, I'd get so frustrated that I would scream. And then, once the book was finally written, taking it to people close to me and asking them to read it. Having to bear with their critiques. And then having an editor – Justin Finch-Fletchey is one of the best in the market, don't get me wrong. But it is hard to see your manuscript – what you've worked for weeks and months on – taken and scrutinised. 'This scene isn't needed.' 'Do you need to say that?' 'This needs expanding.' 'This paragraph is worded horribly.' When I received my manuscript back, covered in red marks and slashes, I felt only what 'fresh meat' could feel. Instead of feeling immensely pleased that my book had even been accepted for publishing, I was indignant. To a new author, her book is her baby. I couldn't bear to take out scenes from it, or change absolutely anything. It took a lot of Justin's coaxing to convince me to do so. But, finally it was done, and sent to be bound – or will be, I suppose, once I finish writing this. I did something foolish. (Surprise, surprise.) I titled this before writing this. One of the biggest mistakes to make in the writing world. I honestly believed that the title would work for it. In fact, I hadn't even thought of changing it before I sat down to write this. Now, I suppose, it's too late to. This book is Me and forever shall be. When I began to write it, I really believed that the book would illustrate me. My thoughts, my morals, my ideas, my life. I really believed that I could become the book. Boy, was I wrong. Sure, this book has parts of me. Tells parts of me, rather. But I am a work in progress. I change every day. I am not set in stone, as a book is. I am unlabeled, unfinished. I am different all the time. No book can be me. Nothing can be me but me. I am untitled. T H E ( R E A L ) E N D" Harry shut the evergreen volume, and was about to (finally) set to work, when he got the urge to open it again. Flipping through the pages again, he noticed a hand written note on one of the blank pages in the back. "Dear Harry, It's Ginny writing to you now, and I suppose if you're reading this now, you've finished the book. I'm blushing now, if you couldn't tell. Did you like it? OWL ME. I really want to know. Your opinion means a lot to me, Harry, if you didn't know already. This book was hard for me to write. And I'm sure at some points it was hard for you to read. Please don't get turned off by the 'Future Husband' things. I don't want to lose your friendship. If you believe that wasn't how it was meant to be, fine. Don't let it spoil our friendship, Harry. I value our friendship. I know that you were busy while I was writing this book, and I may be taking away time when you actually could be doing work while you read this. I'm sorry for that. Harry, I was thinking the other day about our relationship. What are we, exactly? Whatever we are (I don't really know if there is a word for it) I would like for it to be more. Please excuse my boldness, Harry, but as I was writing this, I thought a lot about you. And I thought that maybe…just maybe we could make this work. Since…well, we're older now. I'm certainly not as emotional as I was in Hogwarts. And I am more mature. So, if you are…possibly…maybe…a little tiny bit interested, then I guess owl me. If not, forget I ever wrote this. I really hope you liked this book, Harry. And the dedication – I did write it for you. Please don't be angry. Love from, Virginia F. Weasley" For the second time in his life, Harry was struck speechless by Ginny Weasley. Ginny Weasley…Ginny Weasley… Well, he had to admit, the book made him see her in a different light. But still…Ginny Weasley? Harry closed the evergreen volume in front of him. Then he opened it again to her note, and reread it. He closed it, then opened it again. He looked from the open book in front of him, to the picture of Ginny and himself, in his sixth year, at one of the few high points in their relationship. He and Ginny were out by the lake. Ginny was lying on her back, with her head in his lap, and he was tickling her. Both of them were laughing. He looked from the picture to the book, and back again, and he was filled with rage. As if he needed more rumours flying around about himself! At this rate, people would be owling him to see if he and Ginny had been married already! "Future husband," he muttered. "Where does she get off?" He felt anger burning through to the very tips of his fingers. He pounded his fist into the desk and let out a rage filled scream. Hastily, and without taking any time at all to think about it, he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill to write a letter to Ginny, not choosing his words very carefully. "VIRGINIA WEASLEY! What was that? That – that BOOK? Who do you think you are, God? Future husband, my foot. We've been on what – three dates in the past six months? And those were parties! What were you – what could you possibly have been – what is WRONG with you? I can't believe you. I can't bloody BELIEVE that you would write something like that and publish it for all the world to see! ARGH! And you were a SPY? You never TOLD me! What happened to our "no secrets if we want to be friends" deal after sixth year? Oh well, OBVIOUSLY, you don't care about that sort of thing Ms. Weasley. I am very angry now, and I don't know when I'll get over it. So DON'T owl me. I don't want to talk to you. Harry Potter" He folded the letter, and tied it quickly to Hedwig's leg. Only after she had flown far off into the sky, and become barely a dot in the distance did he realise the magnitude of what he had done. "Bloody hell," he whispered. He hurriedly put on his coat and pulled out his wand, set to Apparate on the spot, when he saw Jeffrey French enter the room, a snide smile on his face. "Going somewhere, Mr. Potter?" he asked. "Er…I…" Harry stumbled. "I would hope you aren't," Jeff said, in a rather patronising manner. "Because, you know, coupled with the way you've been neglecting your work lately, I'm sure that leaving in the middle of the day would warrant severe action." His smile got wider. "Such as, perhaps, suspension from the job for at least a while." Harry's eyes widened at the man. "You wouldn't-" Jeffrey put his hands on Harry's desk. "Listen, Hare," he said. "I don't like to do this kind of thing." Harry noticed that the smile on his face indicated quite the opposite. "But we need people to work at this firm. We have a company to run. And if you can't comply with that-" Jeff shrugged his shoulder, a smirk on his face. "-we'll just have to let you go." He left, leaving Harry in his office. He let out a scream, then sat down again at his desk, and began to write something else. "Dear Ginny, About that letter I sent you- Dear Ginny, I'm sorry for what I- Ginny, Forgive me for- Hi, Ginny! You wouldn't happened to have taken that letter personally, would-" Harry sighed. He couldn't do this. He let out a string of curse words. 'They won't fire me,' he reassured himself as he picked up his wand again. Within seconds, he was outside Ginny's door. Instead of going straight in, he watched her for a little while through the window. Though her face was red, and tear-stained, she wasn't crying any longer. He watched her conjure up a cup of hot chocolate or coffee (he couldn't figure out which) and pick up a piece of parchment that he recognised to be the letter he had sent her ages ago – the joke letter about being her future husband, and was that a proposal? She traced the words with her finger, and smiled a little. Harry couldn't help thinking how nice she looked. And without another thought, he rang her doorbell. "I'm sorry." Come join us in our Circle of Friends, There's always room for one more, A circle that never ends, All you do is open up the door. Have you ever been left out? Have you felt alone? Have you ever needed A friend to call your own? There is someone out there, Who's feeling just like you. Open up your circle. That's all you've got to do -- Courtesy of my fifth grade music teacher. F I N Author's notes: Wow. My very first series, over and done with. Wow. That seems to be pretty much all I can say. Okay, to begin with, I don't know how many time I can say this, but THANK YOU, AMY! If I haven't told you what a great beta you are recently – well, now I have. Your helpful comments and suggestions while I've been writing this have been invaluable, and I don't quite know how to thank you for that. Secondly, thanks to ALL of my reviewers. You really did keep me writing. And thank you, even to the people who have read but not reviewed. You must be crazy to have slogged all the way through this! (Just kidding!) Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you to the Queens, for making this amazing, un-bloody-believable site so that I can read, write, and post fan fiction. And thank you to EVERYONE who's ever written in the Tower Library – because your fics have at one point or another, all given me inspiration. And last, but DEFINITELY not least, thank you J.K. Rowling for providing us with this wonderful world in which we can immerse ourselves in and without which, GT would cease to exist.
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