The door to the sitting room of the Riddle House in Little Hangleton burst open as Remus Lupin pointed his wand at the Dark Lord.
“Stop right there, punk!”
“Oh, Remus, that’s not staying in character!”
“But, I just always wanted to say that.”
Brushing past Lupin and the trio, Jo strode up towards the Dark Lord Voldemort, with her lawyers in tow.
“I’m afraid you have breached copyright, Tom. You’re my character, and under the terms of our contract you can’t just go about selling your own version of events.”
“But -”
“No, Tom. I don’t want to hear about it. Hand over the book and let the children go.”
“Hey, we’re not children,” said Ron sleepily, having just woken up.
Jo stopped suddenly and surveyed the room with interest. Her eyes passed over Ron and Hermione, lying helplessly on the ground. She stared at Harry, whose face wore a strange expression of confusion and boredom. She watched Lucius Malfoy as he cowered and whimpered at Voldemort’s feet.
“What on earth is going on here?”
“I was just playing around …” Voldemort mumbled.
“Tom Riddle, you know perfectly well that this is not the way the story goes.”
“Well, why do you have to decide everything? You’re such a dictator. I bet you’re going to have me lose in the end, aren’t you?”
“This is not the time or the place for this discussion,” said Rowling, as she took out her wand and pulled the trio to their feet.
“Merlin’s beard, Tom, they don’t even have a scratch on them! You are very bad at this.”
“It’s not my fault!” exclaimed the Dark Lord, “it’s … it’s … it’s because I’ve run out of marshmallows. Lucius!”
Malfoy looked as though he was about to cry, as Jo stared at Voldemort in bewilderment.
“What do you mean, marshmallows?”
“He’s addicted to them, but he won’t admit he has a problem,” muttered Malfoy.
“Lucius!”
“It’s something to do with the connection he has with Potter,” Malfoy continued, “I think Potter has a problem with them too. I don’t really get it.”
“Shut up, Lucius,” interrupted Voldemort. “This is most unlike you. Get my hot chocolate this instant.”
“There’s none left. No marshmallows left either. I gave them all to Snape to get rid of them. I’m sick of this storyline.”
“Snape?”
”I am very confused,” Jo whispered to Harry. “Everyone is completely out of character.”
“That’s what you get when you keep us waiting too long for the next book. We do get bored you know. And Voldie’s been longing for his fifteen minutes of fame.”
“How on earth am I supposed to get you all back to normal before July?”
“Don’t ask me,” Harry shrugged, “I’m addicted to marshmallows, for God’s sake.”
“Severus Snape!” screeched Voldemort.
“I’m over here, my Lord,” said Snape, as he emerged from the shadows.
“What have you done with my marshmallows?”
“This and that …” said Snape. “I ate some, and I slipped some to Potter, to hold him over. Of course, I also had some fun with them.” Snape turned to Harry. “Remember chapter seven, Potter?”
“How could I forget?” moaned Harry, as memories of Hogwarts came rushing back.
“Interesting,” Jo muttered to herself. “Everything is always revealed in the end.”
“Of course!” Hermione shouted, causing everyone, including Voldemort, to jump violently.
“That’s how you had the bag of marshmallows in chapter four,” Hermione continued, as she pointed at Snape, “and how you had that marshmallow in chapter seven. That must be how Draco Malfoy had a bag in chapter eight, because they were in your house!” She finished dramatically by pointing at Malfoy.
“That’s great, Mudblood,” snarled Voldemort, “but how does any of that help anyone?”
“It doesn’t really,” answered Hermione, “but I felt that needed to be cleared up, just so we’re all on the same page.”
“Alright,” said Jo, as she stood in the center of the room. “This is starting to get out of hand. Book six will be on the shelves in a matter of months, and no, Tom, I’m not talking about your book,” she added, as Voldemort’s mouth opened in excitement. “I need you all back to normal. So far, only Lucius here seems to have tried to rectify this ludicrous situation.”
At these words, Malfoy stood up proudly, but was pushed to the ground again by the irate Dark Lord.
“Fine,” Voldemort said. “Can I kill Potter first?”
“No, Tom, I need him for the next book.”
“Unfair!” yelled Voldemort, as Lucius stood up again.
“See! I told you to kill him the minute he fell through the window, but no, you had to gloat.”
“Lucius, I said shut up,” the Dark Lord whispered in his most dangerous voice. Malfoy retreated to the corner.
“He does have a point, actually,” laughed Jo. “I mean he’s just a kid. He couldn’t be that hard to kill. Why didn’t you just get Severus to poison his drink or something?”
“Ms. Rowling,” Voldemort said smoothly, “You are far from being an evil mastermind, so I shall forgive you for that ludicrous, yet practical solution. You know as well as I do that I like elaborate plans, and you won’t change me now.”
“Very well,” sighed Jo. “Everyone gather round.”
Ms.Rowling brandished her wand, and with a great sweeping motion she cried out:
“Dolor Artuum!”
The room was filled with a golden light, which flew through the mouths of everyone present, except for Rowling herself.
“Right, how are we now?”
“Voldemort got to his feet gingerly and stared at the occupants of the room. Jo’s lawyers ran from the fearsome Dark Lord, who looked as though he was recovering from a bad headache.
“Why is there a Muggle in my presence?” he hissed menacingly.
“Excellent, you’re back to normal, Tom,” said Jo, as she pocketed her wand.
“Rise, Lucius, and kill the Muggle. I shall deal with Potter.”
“Ah, yes. I had hoped that this wouldn’t happen,” said Jo worriedly. Quick, everyone grab this!”
Clutching an empty marshmallow bag that lay on the floor, Jo directed her wand towards it as it glowed bright blue.
“Portus,” she whispered.
Harry felt the familiar tug at his naval as he bumped against Ron and Hermione beside him. Through his aching headache, he noticed the outline of Dumbledore’s office come into view. He felt as though he was recovering from a very bad dream.
They were going back …