We Call Him Sunshine

Chapter 1: Muggles for Harry

"Germione! Germione. Where are you?" said Rarry Tarter as he searched for his girlfriend, in his dirty two roomed flat. Rarry was a slender man of twenty-nine. His green contacts clashed with his purposely- untidy dark brown hair.

Of course, Rarry wasn't his original name. About four years ago he fell deeply in love with the books by J. K. Rowling. So deep was his passion for those books that they were his entire life. Day and night all he thought of was his beloved magical world. He had even changed his name from Bruce J. Warrington to Rarry Tarter.

Rarry was a name he was very proud to hold. It came from his brilliant, witty head. He couldn't think of a better name that would combine the names Harry and Ron together; except for maybe Ronarry, but it would be to late to change it now. Tarter, however, was a name that popped into his head. Similar to when one loses something, and when not thinking of it, immediately remembers where it is. It just somehow fit with Rarry.

He was introduced to the book Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone while casually searching a bookshop. He heard that it was quite a good read, so he bought the book. He thought that was the point that changed his life. He soon became attached to the books, and reality was replaced with fantasy.

He was young and naive before he read the canon. He believed in politics, law, order and most of all love at first sight. He saw the beauty of a life with magic, and since then on was in a search to discover it.

His first true act to show his love for the series was the writing. He had gotten each of the books tattooed onto his arm. What Rarry thought showed his loyalties even more was the larger-than-life tattoo of J.K. Rowling's face that he had on his back. What was so special about this tattoo was that when he broadened his shoulders JKR's eyes would widen, and when he scrunched his shoulders, one eye would wink. He even managed to tattoo two scars on his temples.

"Germione!" he screamed out once again, his voice woven with a bit of fear.

"What?" Germione replied, obviously quite annoyed. She went to the threshold of their bedroom and casually leaned upon it. She was a fairly pretty twenty-four year old, with bushy brown hair and mystical brown eyes. Germione Chang was one of a kind. She started dating Rarry about fifteen months ago, and thoroughly enjoyed his company.

They had met while camping out in front of a bookshop, waiting for Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire to be released. Germione had unfortunately been at the back of queue and was desperate to get the book for it had all sold out, so after Rarry had purchased it, and was walking out of the shop, his nose in the book, she had jumped from behind him and stolen it. Rarry obviously wasn't going to take that, and ran after her. He eventually caught up, and stole the book back. They both had the row of their lives, screaming and frantically waving arms on who should keep the book. They somehow ended on the decision to share it, and their love for each other started there.

"Germione dear, are you coming to the meeting with me?" Rarry asked, a hint of persuasiveness in his voice. Every week on Wednesday evenings he led the meetings. The meetings were strictly about anything Harry Potter. About eighty-nine members went to the meetings, their age varying from the youngest, twelve, to the oldest, seventy-eight. Rarry was very proud to have founded the group. He called it Muggles for Harry.

"Er... I'm not sure. Do you think that I should?"

"Well, it's up to you. But I would never mind your company."

Germione sighed deeply and went on. "Sure. Why not," And with that she went back into the room, slammed the door in his face, and got ready to go outside. Rarry was a bit surprised, but he went to his moldy brown couch, and jumped upon it.

What was he going to say in the meeting? He wasn't very sure. While surfing through channels on the tube, he found it. He would discuss the deeper side of Severus Snape, and if there was a possibility that there might have ever been a relationship between him and Lily Evans. He had another idea to discuss roaming in his head, and he was sure he would use it.

Germione finally left the room after a half an hour. She was dressed in slightly tight blue jeans and nicely fitting black sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, with bits of hair wildly refusing to be tamed, sticking out.

Rarry, who was dressed in khakis and a "Slytherin" shirt, with creepy eyes in the center of it, looked over to her. Her face was glowing, and he was amazed that she could still keep a tan at this time of the year.

"Well? Are we going to leave, or are you going to stare at me like some maniac all evening?" she said, quite annoyed.

"Um, yeah." Rarry said, not distinguishing whether he thought they should leave or if he was going continue to look at Germione. It was quite obvious that he hadn't listened to a word that she had said.

Germione stared him down, daring him to say more. He quickly looked away and said, "Let's go."

They went out of the flat, headed down the stairs, and to where his parked car was. It was a blue Ford Anglia, the exact same kind that Arthur Weasley had charmed into flying. It was Rarry's most prized possession.

He seated himself, and waited for Germione to get in, then took out his keys, which he had strapped onto his khakis (he had heard of wizards that put shrinking spells on the keys so that eventually it would shrink to nothingness and the owner would never find them) and put them in the ignition to start the car.

Immediately the radio in the car began playing the ending of "Time After Time" in which a middle-aged woman repeatedly sang the words time after time, much to Rarry's annoyance.

"Can she just shut up!" He blurted out the tenth time she repeated time after time.

He banged onto the radio so that it was playing another American eighty's song.

"Blast the thing," And with another bang the radio was quite. "Did you put it onto that dreadful station?" He said, turning his head to face Germione.

"Why do you think that I did it?"

"Just a question." He replied, a bit of spite woven in.

They drove for about another fifteen minutes to an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the town.

Rarry had found the warehouse while taking one of his drives around the town. He liked to do this; it cleared his head and gave him time to reflect on the days' events. He usually called this The Drive of Enlightenment.

They parked by the warehouse, and then entered it, slowly opening the door to make sure it would not fall over. It was a large gray building that used to manufacture clothing. After about a century of being in use it's employees (little five to twelve year olds) revolted, and won the battle. Since then it was forsaken and thought to be haunted. It was in awful condition: metal beams that were supposed to support the building on the floor with one end hanging loosely by a bolt, cobwebs on every imaginable area, broken windows with glass pieces still on the floor, long forgotten.

They slowly crept along the deserted terrain as if someone nearby was sleeping, and wasn't to be awaken. They stepped over a few metal bars, and then reached their destination.

They opened the old wooden door and let themselves in, trying their best to quietly close the door behind them. The room was a good thirty to forty feet long and about sixty feet wide. Rarry had no idea why a factory would have such a tremendous chamber, but apparently it did, and it was his good luck that he found it. It was the perfect area to hold meetings. At what Rarry thought was the front of the room was his desk upon which he discussed his meetings. The gray walls clashed with the burnt sienna podium and it's metallic blue seats. They stepped across the room, Rarry nearly tripping around one of the many seats that stretched amongst the sullen chamber.

He sat on the left seat while Germione took the seat to the right of him. Together they waited in silence for the other constituents to arrive. Slowly the seats began to fill. Together they were king and queen among an army of recipients.

Once everyone had arrived they began.

"Welcome. I'm glad to see that all you have returned," he began a bit awkwardly, he was never sure how to start these things. "We have many a thing to talk about. Before I begin, would anyone like to raise some topics?"

A number of hands shot up into the air, and Rarry quietly laughed to himself, smirking, for this reminded him, or rather seemed to him like something that Hermione would do when she new the answer to questions, or just wanted to share information with the class... or brag, depending upon the way you look upon it. Hmmm..., he thought another great topic to share...

"Yes... number.... number eighty-three?" he asked. In the group they used numbers, names didn't work well with Rarry and plus names were often deceiving; numbers were friendly and welcoming.

"Well, I wanted to say..." he began, but suddenly bursted in a fervent. "That Rowling woman is taking her sweet, precious, I'm-the-Goddess-of-the-World-and-can-Take-However-Long-I-Wish-to-Take time on finishing the fifth book!! She was supposed to be finished with it last summer!! They say she isn't even done with the manuscript! And then they have to publish it-"

By now the noise in the room had enhanced so that it drowned the middle-aged man's voice. Shouts were streaming across the chamber, each threatening, and a bit frightening.

"Let her take her time! The longer we wait the better it will be!" he heard one woman saying.

"What if she never finishes it?"

"What if she... " Gulp. "Dies?"

Panic swallowed the room whole and more conversations started, each resulting in the speakers looking daggers at each other. Rarry was sure that if looks could kill the whole of them would be in a Harry Potter paradise searching for Lily Evans and James Potter.

Finally he decided to stop the nonsense.

"Muggles! Muggles! Listen up!!" he tried, but like Eden's Crush, didn't have much success. "LOOK, IT'S HARRY POTTER!" He screamed out in a vain attempt to draw attention to him so that the crowd would stop screaming. He ended up regretting that because the moment they all turned their heads to area at the far end of the room by the door, and realized that their god wasn't there they began shrieking again, and with a vengeance.

Rarry, deciding that nothing would really do any good to stop them from debating, let them wallow in their anxiousness and grief, and soon the din diminished to nothing but a hoarse whisper, for now the greater of them had lost their voices.

"Listen, let us not jinx the cause. I'm sure that Jo won't die, she has to much protection, what with body guards and - "

"But... but! She keeps all the chapters in her home by lock and key!! No one would be able to get it! It'll just be there for the rest of eternity and we won't have any way to get it! It'll be pure pain and torture!" screamed a young teenager, her tight bun oddly resembling that of Professor McGonagall's.

"I'm sure that some one would be able to pick it open. No worries. Anyway, there are always fan fictions. Some are even better than the actual books, a lot of them, actually... " He continued to ponder.

"Those are from some one's imagination. They are all alternate universes they aren't the truth! They'll never be! We need to know the ending in J.K.'s mind, and nothing can compare to that!" A young man spoke.

Quite suddenly Germione stood up. "Listen," she said irritably. "Rowling will not die, not any soon anyways. And if she is due soon, we can always go to a divination specialist to check up on it. Even if she does die, then no worries because the rest of you can finally get on with your lives and stop with this childish obsession of yours. Okay?"

They all suddenly seemed to be interested in either the floor or ceiling, shuffling their feet. They knew she was right, they did have to get over the Harry Potter universe, but could never seem to get themselves to it. After years of reading the actual canon, or its fics in between, they seemed to have strayed from the social party. Life just seemed more fun when they had their nose in a good book and not caring what other people thought about them, well, to them it did.

"End of discussion then," she concluded, with an air of knowledge and vain that only she could escape with. She reached her seat again and resplendently sat upon it.

"Er... yes. We'll have to go on then. Er... any other topics, that any of you would like to raise?" Rarry spoke inaptly, in a soft tone. He looked around the room for any hand that would be raised. It was quite obvious that all of them were uncomfortable for being told off like that. In all their hearts there was a bit of shame they held for being obsessed with a children's book, but you have to admit it is a good read.

"Well, if it's alright with you," Germione spoke with spirit and pomp. "I have a good topic to bring up. All of you remember Virginia Weasley and Lily Evans?" The crowd nodded timidly. "Well, do you also notice the resemblance between them?" With more enthusiasm, they nodded once again. "I was thinking, that maybe Virginia is the reincarnation of Lillian Evans."

********

"Reincarnation?"

"Reincarnation?"

"What?"

The majority of them could hardly grasp the concept that perhaps Lily and Ginny were connected by a spiritual link. It was odd and new, so they really didn't like the idea.

"But..."

Slowly as the belief was absorbed by their minds they began to see how that could quite possibly be true.

"You see Virginia and Lillian do not only hold similar physical features; they both seem to be kind-"

"But we haven't much information on both Lily and Ginny. Ginny has been more reserved for the better part of the cannon. Her true personality has rarely shown through and Lily is dead, so how can we possibly know how she acts?" number fifty-seven interrupted Germione.

"But-" she began.

"And quite obviously they have different tastes. You see, inevitably Ginny will end up with Draco while Lily prefers Gryffindors such as James."

Germione furrowed her brows, simply trying to comprehend why Ginny would go out with Draco and where he got that idea. Nowhere in the cannon did it even suggest that that would come to be.

Her mouth was slightly open contorting her face to recommend that she be slightly awed by number fifty-seven's stupidity. Rarry oddly wanted to stick the pencil in his hand into her mouth just to annoy her.

"Did any of you guys see the movie?" A young, blond girl asked.

"What kind of question is that? We're in a Harry Potter Fanatic's group for Dumbledore's sake, all of us have seen the movie," a brunette responded.

"Eight times at least," A childlike voice piped up.

"Yeah, and it bombed."

"Completely and utterly horrible."

"And what was that part with the owl thing? Remember when Harry, in the middle of the movie, came out with Hedwig and she flew off? What was that all about?"

"I know it made no sense."

The room was filled with idle comments, pleasant to the ears. Not like the shouts that had issued from their mouths before.

"And while I was waiting for the trailer to come out I read this paper that showed a picture of Flitwick and how they thought it was Dumbledore!" A middle-aged red head said rather loudly.

"How can anyone confuse Dumbledore and Flitwick? One is really short. One is really tall. One has a long beard, one doesn't," Number thirty-nine responded.

"And what did they do about it. Somebody must have," A sunny old woman spoke. She reminded Harry of his Grandmother, who was also a Harry Potter muse and unfortunately had died a year ago.

"They gave her an award," the red head uttered.

"How could they possibly have given her an award?"

"What, for Stupidest Person of the year?"

"Relax yourselves," she said, waving her hands in a motion for them all to sit down. "They gave her the Vernon Dursley award given only to those who, like Vernon Dursley, show no respect to Harry Potter."

Some broke into a quiet, knowing chuckle and others responded by saying she deserved it.

"It would be nice if we could go to Hogwarts," sighed a middle-aged brunette. "I would love to know what House I would be sorted into, and be taught by McGonnagal, and Snape, and Hagrid... and all of the Hogwarts Professors," her eyes were distant, and it was obvious she was dreaming.

"Wait are you saying that Hogwarts doesn't exist?" Rarry answered. His eyes were scanning the crowd, looking for someone in the audience who would tell him otherwise.

"Well, of course it doesn't exist, child," an old man responded, his long white beard resembling that of Dumbledore's. "Did you actually think it did?" Now he looked concerned.

"Oh, er... Well how would any of you know? You're all Muggles, you wouldn't be able to see it anyway!" Rarry refused to believe it. Hogwarts was real, and he would prove it, somehow, someway...

Disclaimer 2: Muggles for Harry is loosely based upon the many Harry Potter Fandoms I have visited and participated in. The Vernon Dursley Award is an actual award distributed by the Leaky Cauldron. And yes, unfortunately (but to my great amusement) someone really did win it for mistaking Dumbledore with Flitwick. At the moment the site is under renovation, so I am unable to include a link, but I will do so once it's up and running again. A/N 2: Thank you to those who have been so patiently waiting the release of this fic. I'm finally done with the first chapter Gandhi G!! Aren't you so proud? Thank you to Jemini who beta-ed and while you're waiting for chapter two, go read The Wrath of Revenge by Jemini, you're bound to be hooked. And don't forget to review. The more reviews I get, the better I write, and the better story you receive.