What the Characters Do Between Books

Scene: The Black Family Home. Harry is sitting at the kitchen table perusing a copy of the Daily Prophet, scratching Crookshanks between the ears whilst he stands on top of the table enjoying a saucer of milk.

The front-page headline of the Daily Prophet reads: there is no news to report. There will be no news to Report tomorrow either. There will be no news to report until the publication of book 6. thank you for keeping your subscription current with us anyway.

Harry (muttering quietly to himself while he sips his tea): No news is good news. (He turns the page) I wonder what the personal ads will say. Oh, here's one from Fred and George.

(We see a snippet of the personal ads placed with the Daily Prophet. They take up the whole newspaper being that there is no news)

Fred and George Weasley wish to thank everyone expressing interest in shopping at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. However, they kindly request that potential customers stop camping outside of their front door. "3000 people blocking the alley in front of our shop is a bit much, aye? The other shop keepers are complaining about the traffic," said Fred Weasley. The Weasleys want to reassure everyone that the store will still open on schedule. As soon as Book 6 is published the front doors will open and they will happily welcome your business then.

Harry: Boy, I'd like to have their troubles. Look at that! I can't believe he had to publish it again! This has got to be the twentieth time he's run this ad.

Dear Mother, Father, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and other assorted interested parties,

I am not evil. I have not abandoned my family. I do so love my father. Please stop sending me hate mail. It upsets my girlfriend. To the person, or persons, (you know who you are, you unmitigated evil monsters) who persist in leaving bags full of burning dragon dung on my doorstep, cease and desist immediately, or I'm going to come over to that shop and kick both of your arses for you.

Sincerely,

Percy Weasley

Harry (chuckling): Poor Percy. I really do pity him. He's getting more hate mail than Voldemort. Hmmm....this is interesting.

For your reading pleasure, because there is no news to report, we are publishing Cornelius Fudge's recently completed Doctoral thesis on Public Policy and Further Magical Meanderings to affirm his position that, "I'm not really an idiot. I just play one in the books."

Ed note: Could have fooled us, Fudge.

(There's a knock at the door. Harry gets up to answer it, walking by Mrs. Black's squawking portrait on the wall)

Mrs. Black's portrait: "You sickening little mixed blood twerp! Get out of my house! Out! Out!"

Harry: G'morning, Mrs. B. Pardon me a moment. I have to get the door.

(Harry opens the door and with a surprised smile admits Voldemort into the entry way)

Harry: Oh, hello, Voldemort. Isn't this a nice surprise, how've you been?

Voldemort: (steps over the threshold, seizes Harry's hand and shakes it vigorously) Harry, my dear boy, I wouldn't dream of disturbing you so early on a Saturday morning, except I find myself in dire need. You wouldn't happen to have a half-cup of snake venom I might borrow would you?

Harry: Well, I'm not sure about that, Voldemort. Come into the kitchen with me and I'll check.

(Harry and Voldemort make their way into the kitchen, passing by Mrs. Black's portrait)

Mrs. Black's portrait: You scum-sucking Halfling! I said, get out! Out! Oh! Your Dark Lordship, sir, what a pleasure! You're looking marvelously malevolent today."

Voldemort (nodding respectfully to the portrait): Thank you, Mrs. B. And you're looking rather erm...well, you've been painted wonderfully. I wish to express my condolences to you on the mysterious disappearance of your son, Sirius.

Mrs. Black's portrait: Disappearance? What disappearance? He's dead, I tell you! Dead! And good riddance to him!

(Voldemort enters the kitchen behind Harry, bends to pet Crookshanks, who hisses horrifyingly and takes a flying leap off the table to hide under the chair. Harry opens the freezer compartment, studying the contents. He reaches into the far back and pulls out a small vial clearly labeled, "Giant Snake Venom".

Harry: Yes, here you are, Voldemort. Mrs. B. kept some stored in the freezer.

Voldemort: Wonderful! I've been feeling a bit peaked. This should be just the thing. The Death Eaters and I are on snake venom rations until the next book is published, and Nagini has gone to visit her mother. She's feeling under the weather.

Harry: Oh, really? I didn't think snakes formed close familial relationships.

Voldemort: They don't, Harry, they don't. Nagini is hoping that her mother lays a fresh batch of eggs before she dies so that she can devour them. Nagini loves a little snake embryo treat, and I haven't been able to afford it very often since we're out of work between books.

Harry: Why don't you have a seat, Voldemort?

Voldemort: Don't mind if I do, Harry, don't mind if I do. (Voldemort pulls out a chair and sits at the table. Harry sits down across from him. Voldemort pulls the stopper out of the snake venom vial, puts the vial to his lips, pulls out the frozen snake venom like a popsicle and licks it enthusiastically)

Harry: So how did the audition go for the sideline villain in the X-men comic book?

Voldemort: (shakes his head woefully) Too well, Harry. I wowed the casting director. I mean, am I great villain or am I great villain? But they said I was too easily recognized in the genre to play a sideline villain. And of course my contract prevents me from accepting a position as a major storyline villain until our series has finished.

Harry: I'm sorry to hear that mate. It's a tough character market out there just now. I wish the writing on Book Six would pick up, we're all hurting for work. I mean I have my fortune in Gringotts but I can't touch any of that money without the author's permission.

Voldemort: Just so, just so. Even Lucius and Narcissa are living hand to mouth at the moment. Oh, by the way, Draco says hello. He'd like to get together with you and practice bickering when you have the chance.

Harry: I'll send him an owl and find out when he's available.

(Ron and Hermione enter the kitchen, arms around each other, nuzzling and looking flushed and sleepy. Hermione, disengaging herself from Ron, runs to give Voldemort a hug)

Hermione: Voldemort! How lovely to see you! How've you been?

(They embrace. Voldemort pats her on the back)

Voldemort: A bit maudlin to tell the truth, my dear, I'm growing weepy over the fact that we only have two books left.

Ron: I hear you mate. I wish they'd get on with writing Book Six, though. Hermione and I are getting tired of having sex all the time. We need to get back to work.

Hermione: Ron!

Ron (turning to look at Hermione innocently) What? It's not as if we ever actually get to do it in the books. I mean I'm not complaining about our quality time, Hermione....

(Voldemort turns to Harry)

Voldemort: Harry, I've been meaning to ask. How is Sirius Black?

(Harry sighs heavily, looking very sad)

Harry: Luna Lovegood and I camped out in the Death Room for a few days last week trying to make out the murmurings behind the curtain. I'm not certain, but I think I heard Sirius yell, "Send down a torch! I can't see a damned thing down here!" And also possibly, "Need more raw hid chews!" So we threw those things in. I hope they reach him.

(Voldemort looks very grave. Reaches across the table to pat Harry's hand sympathetically.)

Voldemort: Dreadful, Harry, simply dreadful. Poor Sirius. He's been stuck down there now for...what is it, a full year?

Harry: (nodding sadly) It's been tough, Voldemort.

Ron (scavenging in the fridge): Blimey, Harry, I'm fair famished here and the fridge is nearly empty again.

Hermione: For pity's sake, Ron, you finished off half a rasher of bacon and three eggs this morning already.

Ron: Can't help it love. I'm a growing boy.

Hermione (dryly): Are you then? Well, you ought to start shaving any day now, right?

Ron (looking hurt): Hey! It isn't my fault that I keep getting written taller and taller without any other visible signs of puberty! Look at poor Harry! He still appears to be an extremely tall eleven-year-old.

(Harry shrugs, pushes his round glasses up his nose)

Voldemort: Harry, have you tried petitioning for those new frameless specs I recommended?

Harry: Voldemort, you wouldn't believe what I've petitioned for. Ron's not the only one who's getting sick of sounding like a girl. You'd think she could show our voices deepening a little.

(Harry's whining is interrupted by a loud crash coming from the front of the house.)

Ron: What in the bloody hell is all that racket about?

(Harry gets up from the table, looking grim. He marches out into the front room)

Harry (throwing up his hands): Remus! Severus! How many times do I have to ask you two not to play football in the front room? Look at this mess! You've destroyed several important props for the next book here!

(Remus looks sheepish. Severus continues to dribble the stuffed elf's head ball between his feet)

Remus: Sorry, Harry. Sev and I got carried away.

Severus: You're a loser, Remus.

(Harry bends down. Snatches Kreacher's ancestor away from Severus's feet and turns, hooking it up on the wall where it belongs.)

Harry (sternly): Now listen you two. I'm gonna tell you again, this is a set. A set. Got it? We think important stuff is going to happen here in the next book and I can't have you two mucking it up!

(He pulls a few bills out of his pocket and hands them to Remus)

Harry: Here, take this and go down to the pub. Have a few on me. Oh, and on your way home, Sev, it's your turn to pick up groceries. Buy a lot, Ron is starving."

Severus: Ah, Harry, do I have to? I won't have enough money left to take Petunia out tonight.

Harry (firmly): Look, Sev, the deal was that you didn't have to stay with the Death Eater's so long as you pulled your own weight around here. Now, I don't think I'm asking too much, but if you object I understand that Wormtail is still willing to share his pallet with you in the caves over Hogsmeade.

Severus (kicking the ground truculently): Fine! I'll do it! But you can explain to Petunia why we have to stay around this hole and watch videos tonight!

(Harry rolling his eyes)

Harry: I'll talk to her, okay? But you know, Sev, it's probably better if you don't spend as much time with Petunia anyway. The book is going to start up again soon and she'll have to go back to Vernon.

Sev (grinning): She says she'll slit her wrists first.

Harry (frowning): Not if she ever wants to work in fiction again, she won't! Suicide is a serious breach of character contract! And don't you go encouraging her either!

(Remus and Severus exit through the front door. Severus mumbling imprecations under his breath)

Mrs. Black's portrait: Now that Severus, there's a nice boy! Too bad Sirius wasn't more like him!

(Harry ignores her and wanders back into the kitchen where he finds Voldemort, Ron, and Hermione playing Scrabble)

Voldemort: Aha! Vituperous! I added onto Hermione's Stupendous, used up all of my letters and landed on a double word score! I believe I'm winning.

Ron (sulkily): You're always winning! Because you won't ever play chess! Why do we always have to play Scrabble? Harry! Haven't we got an old Monopoly game around here somewhere?

(Harry shoves his hand in his pockets, looks skyward)

Harry (mumbling): It's going to be a long year until publication.