“But you don’t understand, Mr O’Brien,” the author told him, “it’s a complex flashback.” Happy took a double-take.
“With character development, personal demons on the loose and shameful histories?” he clarified worriedly.
“Yes,” the anonymous author told him. Happy paled dramatically.
“Then there’s only one thing to do,” he said heroically.
“What?” asked the author.
“I was just getting to that,” snapped Happy. “We’ll have to go to the flashback extraordinaire man of geniusness!”
Now, it was time for everyone else to double-take.
“But will he see us?” asked Jackie. Happy tapped his chin.
“He’ll have to,” he proclaimed. “We’re looking at a possible Category Five literary storm. We’ll just have to send him a completed chapter before-hand, to prove we’re true blue.”
“True blue?” asked Jackie.
“Yeah, you know the phrase. Clear and correct. Keepin’ it real. I was brushing up on my Australianisms.”
“He’s a“” Jackie began dramatically, “a “ oh, look, I can’t even say it…”
“That’s right,” said Happy. “He’s an Aussie.”
The Harry Potter Literary Storm
Chapter Five, Part Two: The Flashback Extraordinaire Man Of Geniusness
Thirteen hours later, Happy awoke to discover the complex-flashback-writing anonymous author to be on the phone with someone.
“Oh, you’re the flashback extraordinaire man of geniusness’s secretary?” confirmed the author. “I see. Well, good then. What’s that? He can communicate with us via webcam in three minutes, did you say? Oh, that’s excellent. Thanks very much, Ms. Sheila.” And she hung up the phone.
“What’s all this about a webcam conversation with the flashback extraordinaire man of geniusness, that can happen in three minutes?” demanded Happy.
“Just what you said, Mr O’Brien,” the author told him.
“Oh,” said Happy. “Jackie, fire up the computer.”
Jackie fired up the computer, and in a few moments, a webcam box appeared on the screen, along with a text box saying, ‘Australian flashback extraordinaire man of geniusness has requested a webcam conversation with you.’ There were buttons to accept or deny. They accepted, and a fellow appeared on the screen.
It was the flashback extraordinaire man of geniusness. He was a wrinkly, tanned looking fellow wearing a hat with corks hanging from it.
“Mr. Flashback Extraordinaire Man Of Geniusness?” confirmed Happy. The man chuckled.
“G’day, mate. You can just call me ‘Femog’,” replied the man.
“Very well, Mr Femog. My name is Happy O’Brien and this is “ umm…”
“J.K. Rowling,” prompted the author, panicking. The fact that J.K. Rowling didn’t exist had to be kept secret at all costs. Femog tipped his hat at the two of them.
“So how can I help youse two?” he inquired.
“I’ve come across…” the author began, and paused dramatically. “A flashback.”
“When why didn’t you just write the bloody flashback?” demanded Femog. “Blimey. I’ve got kangaroos to water.”
“I would,” said the anonymous author, “but it’s a complex flashback.”
Femog coughed, like he had choked on something.
“Hold your bloody dingos then!” he exclaimed. “Now, tell me “ why’s it so complex?”
The anonymous author went on to explain “ when writing this flashback, several issues needed to come up “ Harry needed to come face to face with the young James Potter, the entire social network of Harry’s parents and their friends needed to become clear, Harry needed to face the fact that his role-models were not perfect, and they needed to discover that Lily was related to Sirius, which, of course, was the piece of crucial information that would be communicated in the book, about Lily. How else could Sirius have gotten that little nose?
“And the entire family tree is just so very complicated!” the author sobbed, as, by now, she had obviously brought herself to tears. Femog tapped his nose.
“So you’re saying that Lily is related to Sirius?”
“Yes,” said the author.
“Who is brother to James?” questioned Mr Femog.
“Lily’s only related to Sirius and James though marriage,” explained the author.
“And Sirius and Snape are fighting over a beautiful half-veela called Mary?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Geez, lady. This is complicated.” The author nodded. “And you’re serious that they have a friend who’s a rabid wolf, are you?” The author nodded again, and Femog removed his hat, and scratched his head.
“Can you help?” asked Happy, whose brains were scrambled already.
“I think I can, boy. I think I can,” agreed Femog. “Or my name ain’t Femog Jones.”
It was at this point that Happy decided to leave the flashback to the anonymous author, and catch up on his beauty sleep a little more.
When he awoke, the anonymous author was just finishing on the flashback, for some reason reading it out loud.
“‘Snape was unimpressed. A look of concentration passed across his face, and Harry found himself being pulled out of the memory, and back into the Hogwarts dungeons.
“You’re as bad as your father ever was,” said Snape. “Well… almost.”
Harry couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
“Go away!” ordered Snape, and…’”
“Let me see that!” demanded Happy, needing to confirm that the large sum he had forked out to Femog had been worth it.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Deceived, Wolfish, Hidden and Nondescript
Wherever Harry was, whatever memory he had fallen into, it was very, very quiet. That was the first thing he noticed. Then, it came to his attention that he was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, at what appeared to be exam time.
Harry didn’t know what to expect “ what could Snape be hiding that was so important that he wouldn’t allow Harry to see? After all this time…
He had the amusing thought, that perhaps Snape’s worst memory involved a bottle of shampoo “ that would explain why he so efficiently avoided the stuff…
Harry giggled to himself.
“SILENCE!” bellowed someone, and Harry almost jumped out of his skin. It was a memory of a very heavy-set Professor with a moustache that made him look like a walrus, standing at the front of the hall.
The entire population of the Great Hall looked at him strangely, seeing as how no one had spoken.
“One minute to go!” called the Professor, and the students all leaned down over individual desks, finishing as quickly as possible.
Harry looked around for Snape, seeing as how this was his memory, after all. Sure enough, after a moment, Harry spotted him, working quickly and writing in tiny print, apparently adding more to already completed questions, and drawing useful illustrations, which told Harry that this was a Potions exam.
Well, Harry was quite aware that Potions was unpleasant, but still couldn’t see why Snape would be so protective over a memory of it. Perhaps he had failed the test or something…
It was at this point that Harry noticed a loud yawning noise, and spun around to see a boy yawning loudly. Harry could instantly tell it was Sirius “ he’d know that little nose anywhere.
The boy next to Sirius glanced at him for a moment, with raised eyebrows. He looked almost identical to Harry, but with a different nose… But who could it be?
Confused, Harry approached the boy, staring.
There was a person who looked just like him, sitting next to Sirius Black in a Potions exam!
There was only one explanation…
“I’m going to go back in time and take a Potions exam with my teenage Godfather?!” exclaimed Harry. “And I’m going to get a nose job?! No wonder Snape didn’t want me to see!”
“You know, not everything’s about you,” came the teacher’s voice from the front of the Great Hall. Harry turned and looked at him, wide-eyed.
“Can you see“” he began, but the teacher went on.
“The results of these papers tell the Ministry how well I’ve been teaching you! So do me proud!” the Professor finished uselessly, considering the fact that, by now, there could not be more than twenty or so seconds left.
Harry let out a breath, and looked at the test paper of the boy who looked just like him, so that, when he came back in time, he might know the answers to all the questions already.
However, a name caught his eye…
‘James Potter’
But who…? Where on Earth did he get ‘James’ from?!
And then it struck him.
This was his father, but younger and in a memory!
Excited, Harry glanced around again. Next to James was a boy who could be described as nothing more or less than nondescript, and on the other side of him had to be“
“TIME’S UP!” screamed the Professor from the front of the hall.
“Flobberworm mucus,” muttered Harry to himself. He had really wanted to find out how, exactly, Lupin managed to write if he couldn’t even hold a wand without significant difficulty. Of course, Harry had always been too polite to ask. The Lupin of this time was a little wolf pup.
“Accio papers!” called the Professor. All the papers flew towards him, and, with a nifty spell from the fellow, were soon piled neatly. “Now, you may leave!”
As one, the Professor and all the students left the hall, except for, conveniently, the Marauders and Snape.
“So,” said James. “How did you like that test paper, eh? If you’re anything like me (which you probably are, considering you’re my brother even though we have different last names, different homes, different noses and different parents, as well as the fact that your younger brother is in no way related to me, somehow), you probably didn’t have any trouble at all.”
Sirius rolled his eyes.
“Potions are stupid,” he commented. “And so are you, Snape!” He turned to face Snape, with a hateful frown.
Personally, Harry thought this was a bit harsh, even for Snape. Peter, the nondescript fellow, performed nondescript actions, while Lupin, the wolf pup, stood under a desk with his tail between his legs, disapproving.
“I dislike you, Black!” insulted Snape meanly.
“Hey!” snapped James. “Don’t speak to my friends like that!”
“Your friends are almost as bad as you!” growled Snape.
“At least I have some,” James said, lamely.
“You’re silly!” Snape wittily outdid his foe’s pathetic wordplay.
Sirius withdrew his wand angrily.
“Take that back, Snape!” he warned.
“No!” argued Snape. “Your heart is black, Black, and your words are wrong.”
Sirius gritted his teeth, lower lip trembling.
“Dunderhead!” accused James, aiming his wand at Snape also. “Rictusempra!”
Sirius wiped his eyes, frustrated, and Snape giggled.
“Don’t laugh at me, fiend!” shouted Sirius. “These are angry tears!”
“You’re bad!” shouted back Snape, in between laughs.
“Well, you’re “ you’re“” James searched for an insult. “You’re a pathetic lowlife, with no hope to become anything more than a mean, depressed and bitter old Potions Master!”
Snape was still laughing at James’s pathetic attempt at insulting him, and would probably be even if he hadn’t been cursed.
“Go away!” said Snape, and James couldn’t take it anymore. Infuriated, he pointed his wand at his sallow enemy.
“Un-Accio!” he cried, and Snape was expelled from the hall. Along the way, however, he delivered the killer blow:
“You’re all imperfect!”
James sat down furiously, rippling with anger.
“How I hate that guy,” he commented, thinking everything was over. However, it was only just halfway through.
“Potter, I can’t believe you!” scolded a female voice. James groaned.
“I didn’t do anything!” he defended himself, and then added quietly, “… much…”
“What, you call starting a fight with someone, cursing them and then banishing them ‘nothing much’?!”
“In all fairness,” put in Sirius, “James only semi-started the fight.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Black!” snapped the girl. “Even if you are related to me (explaining why our little noses match, and why your little nose will be the same as my son’s little nose in future), although we’re only related through the marriage of some old people.” There was something about her that seemed familiar to Harry.
He looked at her for a moment, before realising…
“You’ve got the same little nose as Hermione, Sirius and I!” Harry told her. Obviously, she didn’t respond.
“Evans, Snape is a git,” explained James. The girl, ‘Evans’, looked shocked.
“So now you’re horribly insulting people behind their backs, too?” she demanded, unimpressed. “Eww!”
“On an entirely different topic,” James changed the topic subtly, “would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?”
“No!” shouted ‘Evans’. “I think you’re bad!” Harry reeled. She could match Snape’s wittiness like no one else Harry had ever seen!
The girl stormed out.
“But Lily!” James called after her.
Harry froze.
“Wow,” he commented to no one in particular. “My mother accused my father of being bad in their fifth year. Also, her maiden name was ‘Evans’, which is oddly similar to ‘Snape’ backwards.”
“Yes,” agreed another voice. Harry spun around to see Snape standing there, and not the young, safe memory Snape either, but Professor Snape, the creepy, scary Potions Master who Harry was meant to be trying to get along with, because he was teaching him a vital new skill.
“Professor Snape!” exclaimed Harry, and bit his lip. “Uh… I see you’ve always been as witty as you are now!”
Snape was unimpressed. A look of concentration passed across his face, and Harry found himself being pulled out of the memory, and back into the Hogwarts dungeons.
“You’re as bad as your father ever was,” said Snape. “Well… almost.”
Harry couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
“Go away!” ordered Snape, and Harry, gulping, darted out of his office as quickly as his little legs could carry him.
Happy’s hand was on his heart. The scene had turned out so hard-hitting and meaningful, it was just “ just perfect. He wiped away a tear.
No doubt, a Category Five storm was on the way.
This year, he will need to go through more obstacles, but will he be rewarded? Or will he just lose one of the people he considers to be the most important to him, and who he will soon find out is both his uncle and his second cousin, once removed?
You never know. At least not until you read the fifth instalment of JK Rowling’s ‘Harry Potter’ series, ‘Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix’.
It’s out of this world.
And so is one of the characters by the end of it!