Sincerely, Harry James Potter

Sincerely, Harry James Potter

Chapter 1

Thwap!

Harry Potter blinked as a stack of what appeared to be glossy, muggle paper landed suddenly on top of the current Quidditch Monthly he had been reading. This was accompanied by a whiff of air that ruffled Harry's hair and momentarily exposed the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Seated across the kitchen table Ron Weasley, who had been flipping through Which Broomstick, jumped and exclaimed, "Hermione! What did you have to go and do that for? Scared the bloody hell out of me! And when did you get home, anyway? I didn't hear you come in."

Hermione, who was standing next to Harry, spared a brief but scathing glare for Ron before turning back to Harry and saying, "Harry, you have got to take a look at this!" She dropped the bag she was carrying on the table and Ron quickly grabbed his butterbeer to keep it from spilling.

"Muggle magazines," said Harry, picking one up and reclaiming Ron's attention. "Okay." Harry looked at Hermione questioningly.

"Here," she said, grabbing it out of his hand. "Let me show you." Hermione flipped through the magazine, found what she was looking for and set it back down in front of Harry. As he moved in for a closer look Ron leaned across the table trying to see what had Hermione all in a dither.

A moment passed before Harry said, "But, Hermione. This is impossible." He was staring at a Muggle photograph of himself holding Hermione while they both looked up with expressions of fear on their faces. They appeared to be in a forest, most likely, Harry thought, the forbidden forest. "How did a Muggle magazine get a photograph of us and just when was this taken? We look like we're still teenagers here."

"It's not us."

"Sure looks like it to me," muttered Ron.

"Well, it's not. Read the caption, Harry."

There was a pause as Harry read the caption under the photo. "What does it say?" asked Ron.

Harry spared a look at Hermione before reading: "'Daniel Radcliffe and Emma Watson return to the screen as the boy wizard and his friend in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.'"

"What?" Ron was confused.

"A film," Harry tried to explain.

Ron was thoughtful and then his face brightened. "Oh, yeah!" he said, turning to Hermione. "Like that one we went to about that big boat that sank." Hermione nodded and Ron continued, "But what has that got to do with Harry?"

"If you'll be quiet I was getting to that."

"This is a film?" asked Harry, looking at the picture yet again only now with an expression of disbelief. "This isn't really us? I mean I know it says it isn't but they look just like us. Well," he added, "just like we looked at one time."

"And look at these," said Hermione, reaching into her bag. She pulled some muggle paperback books from the bag and put them on the table next to the magazines with a thud. Another whiff fluttered Harry's hair while Ron grasped his butterbeer more tightly before taking a sip.

As with the magazines Harry picked up the top book. This time he automatically read aloud for Ron's benefit. "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire." Handing the book to Ron who looked at it in amazement Harry picked up the next one on the stack. "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." And so it went until there were five books scattered across the table and Harry and Ron looked at Hermione for answers. After all, she always had them.

Hermione sighed. "Maybe I'd better start at the beginning."

"Now there's a good idea," put in Ron. The comment earned him another dirty look but he grinned.

"Continuing on." Hermione turned back to Harry. "A couple of months ago I was going to visit my parents. It was that day, Ron, that you went to the Quidditch game to see Oliver Wood play."

"Puddlemere against the Chudley Cannons?" Ron asked. There was nothing like a good Quidditch match. Ron had tried to get Harry to go with him that day but, as usual, Harry refused to leave Grimmauld Place, especially to go to such a public arena.

"I have no idea, Ron. Anyway, after I got off the tube I was walking to my parents' flat when I walked by a cinema. I wasn't really paying attention as I walked by the posters they have outside promoting the films." Harry was nodding so she continued on quickly before Ron could add anything.

"Well, about five steps past one of those posters something struck me and I turned back for a closer look. I thought I might have been mistaken but I wasn't." Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione was never mistaken about anything. "The poster clearly said, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."

"But how?" asked Harry.

"Well, I wondered about that myself so I decided to do some research. I never did make it my parents' that day."

"Wait a minute," Ron cut in. "So that's why we got that note from them that said, 'sorry to have missed you.' And that's why you haven't been home these last few weeks except to sleep."

"Well, yes. Where did you think I was?"

Ron didn't answer. He turned pink and the suspicious thoughts he'd been having played out his face. Both Hermione and Harry knew what those thoughts must have consisted of and Harry bit back a grin. Ron's jealousy where Hermione was concerned always got him into trouble. He didn't need his best friend smirking at him as well.

Hermione looked at Ron in astonishment. "And you never said anything to me?" She asked. Ron just shrugged. He knew if he had said anything it would have just provoked a row. It always did. "Ronald! I am so proud of you!" She reached across the table and took Ron's hand--the one that didn't have a death grip on the butterbeer bottle, even though it was almost empty--and squeezed. Ron blushed. Harry thought it was remarkable that even after all this time Hermione and Ron could still make each other blush.

Without letting go of Ron's hand, Hermione turned back to Harry and continued. "So what I've found Harry, is that the muggle world knows all about you. Oh, I admit, when I've been visiting there on previous occasions I'd heard your name--even saw one of these books--but I told myself it was a coincidence. It was some other Harry Potter. But I was wrong." Ron blinked at that. He wished he had some way to mark it down for future reference. "Some woman has written these stories about you and now they're being made into films."

Harry was looking at the book in his hand. Instead of looking at the top at the title he looked at the bottom of the cover.

"J.K. Rowling," he read. "Who is J.K. Rowling and how does she know about me?"

"She's a muggle, first of all," Hermione answered. "And she knows about you by magic." Ron and Harry looked sharply at Hermione. "I don't know what kind of magic," she answered their silent questions. "But it's the only explanation. She was on a train one day and this boy with untidy black hair--" Harry self-consciously put a hand to his head "--and glasses that was a wizard but didn't know he was a wizard just popped into her head. So she's said, anyway."

They sat at the kitchen table in silence. Ron's thumb was making little circles on the back of Hermione's hand as he thought about this odd turn of events and waited to see what Harry had to say about them.

Hermione sat just as quietly as Ron. All the while she kept her gaze on Harry but she was also acutely aware of the motions of Ron's thumb.

In the silence Harry sat lost in thought. He'd never been truly comfortable growing up famous after finding out he was a wizard and had been even uneasier with his notoriety after events had played themselves out to their final resolution. It was why he'd secluded himself at Grimmauld Place. When Ron and Hermione were looking for a place he'd agreed to let them stay with him. He'd felt he was less likely to feel a need to step out every now and then if he had a little company and Ron and Hermione understood him and all he'd been through. They'd been through most of it with him. And now, it turned out that in addition to being famous--or was it infamous?--in the wizarding world he was also famous among the muggles. He had a very brief thought about how this must be driving the Dursley's mad. Then he picked up one of the books. "I think," he said thoughtfully, "I'd like to read this."