Reason #287 why Book 5 is so slow

It was back in the halcyon days on early 2000 when J.K.R finally handed in the typeset manuscript for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She felt the heady thrill of world literary domination pumping in her strikingly preserved veins, and the casual fawning of her editors and agent did nothing to alleviate the situation.

Put simply, she was a Goddess of the Heavens, and all would bow down to her. Or lose out on merchandising offers.

Rushing home with a mad glint in her eye, she booted up her trusty computer, her fingers already hovering over the keys. She was impatient to start work on the fifth book, which she knew would blow them all away.

"You fools!", she cried, while trying not to slather all over her desk, "you don't know what's to come, do you? What they are? You haven't even begun!" Frenzied, and heaving with mad, high pitched laughter, she began to type, the sounds echoing across the walls, and unfortunately disturbing the couple having very loud sex next door.

.........a year later.........

She sat, slumped in her seat, only the adrenaline that rushed through her veins preventing her total collapse. But she was so close! Two thirds of the way through, only half of it was crap, and she was at the pivotal scene. The crucial scene. The Scene That Changed Everything. She could feel the anticipation humming through her bones. Oh yes. This would sort them out. The bigoted little kiddies from the adults, ready to face the cold, harsh realities of the world. She would advance Children's Literature millennia with this page!

And then the phone rang.

Reminding herself to wipe the foam from her lips as it did impede communication and spoil her image, she picked up the phone. Who would dare interrupt her flow of unbridled creativity, emerging from her fountainhead and pouring through her body like wine?

Oh. It was the people from Warner Bros, the company she distantly remembered selling the film rights to. It was a disgusting amount of money, and she was absolutely plastered at the time. Which made the money seem even better.

"Uh, Ms Rowling?"

"....Yes." That had better be good.

"We just wanted to say, we're going after those slash sites."

She nearly leaped out of her chair and spilled her bloody mary. Oh the sweet sweet nectar that is alcohol. Must never lose it. It loves me. My precioussssss......Stop. Think. Concentrate on the *phone*. "NO! You can't!"

"We're well within our rights. It's adverse to the atmosphere we want to promote, and we want to stop it before it gets any bigger than it is."

She was shaking now, clutching her drink in one hand to steady her, wrapping fingers round the phone cord. "But surely," she began in a wheedling tone, and congratulated herself on her deviousness. Draco would be proud. So would the bloody Mary"Surely you'll just give more attention to it? And that's not what you want...."

"Sorry, ma'am. Orders are from on high. If we publicise it, it's only to turn good honest decent folk against this filth. Oh, and have a good night." The line went dead.

JK gathered herself up, and dumped the drink on her desk, the liquid sloshing over the side to damage her notes for what she was in the process of writing. It didn't matter now. None of it mattered. With a heavy sigh she read what was on the screen. Brilliant work. Instant classic. That would now never see the light of day. Slash had gotten too big, too quickly, and she'd be damned if people guessed.

Draco's leg was wedged between his, and Harry could feel the hot breath of his adversary ghosting across his face. His eyes opened wide in shock and amazement.

"You like me, Malfoy?" He asked, a sudden realisation.

"No, Potter," Draco crooned, sliding forward, "but I do want to shag you." With that Draco's mouth clamped down on his, and Harry automatically gasped, allowing the other boy to slide his tongue inside. Leaning into the hot warmth of Draco's body, muffled as it was by robes, Harry soon found his hands entangled in Draco's hair. Draco's own hands slid down to fondle the curve of Harry's arse, and use the hold to press their bodies together, rubbing cloth-covered hardness against cloth-covered hardness. Both young men gasped. It just felt....perfect.

J.K.R. downed her drink in one gulp and scowled at the screen. Pressing the quickdial button on the phone, she informed Bloomsbury that the manuscript for book 5 would be delayed, until at least mid 2002. That being said, she snarled again at the task that lay ahead of her.

"Damn", she cursed, hurling the glass to the wall where to broke into a thousand shards. "Now I'm going to have to make you straight."