An Interview with G.M.Weaster

Ex-Auror Ginny Potter-Weasley became a popular writer of children's stories in the Magical and Muggle worlds, under the pen-name G. M. (Ginevra Molly) Weaster. This is an interview of her with the Muggle literary magazine Cygnet. It was recorded on 15 February 2030, before Hermione's interview with the Daily Prophet, but appeared in print afterwards as the Cygnet is a monthly magazine.

(Note: Since the Cygnet is a Muggle publication, and the reader - that means you - is a more informed Muggle than most, the author has made additional parts of the interview available. Anything that Ginny thinks, but doesn't say, is in italics and parentheses/brackets)

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Cygnet: Thanks for giving us this interview, Mrs Weaster.

G.M.Weaster: Not a problem. You're one of my favorite magazines.

C: Thank you. Let's begin. When did you start thinking of writing children's stories?

GMW: I began to invent stories for my daughter when she was growing up. We would go on camping trips (when you're an Auror couple on the run from Death Eaters with a small child, there are lots of camping trips) and books of children's stories are not things you want to lug everywhere. So my husband and I made up stories. (Well, I made up stories. Harry couldn't - he was too stressed to imagine anything - so he just told stories of his adventures, though he'd change all the names so Lily wouldn't know they were his. And sometimes he'd get confused about the names and she would ask and he'd get all flustered and I would smile and she would ask what I was smiling at and... she loved his stories.)

C: How old is your daughter now?

GMW: In her mid-twenties.

C: So that's when you started thinking of stories -- when did you begin writing them down?

GMW: Soon she was bringing her friends over to hear us tell our stories, and soon their parents were getting quite mad at us for making their children keep nagging them for stories. All in good fun, of course. Then one of them (Fred, you prat!) recorded some of our story sessions, so they could remember them to tell their kids.

C: Without your permission?

GMW: Errrm... kind of. It doesn't matter, we're not enemies or anything. Then he showed us transcripts of the stories he'd made from the recordings, and then one thing led to another. (Fred's good at dodging flying saucepans. But not good enough! And did I mention he's a prat?)

C: If I may ask, how come your husband's name isn't on the books?

GMW: He died when Lily -- our daughter -- was about eight. My first book was released several years later (in your world, since I'd been writing stories for the Magical children for years before that) and didn't include any of his stories.

C: Why not?

GMW: They wouldn't be appropriate.

C: Appropriate?

GMW: Too scary.

C: Oh. Er ... so ...did your daughter liked scary stories?

GMW: Yes. Lily's a little... unusual. No, that's not right. She's just different from me. She's into extreme sports, for example. (Doing Wronski feints counts, right? Even I never dare do the ones she does!)

C: Your husband -- did he have a name, by the way?

GMW: James. (True enough - that was Harry's middle name.)

C: Was James into extreme sports?

GMW: You could say that. (Actually, very extreme sports. Like facing Voldemort ... playing with Hungarian Horntails ... rogue Bludgers ... negotiating with Werewolves and Vampires...)

C: The stories you're loved for aren't very scary. And they're pure fantasy.

GMW: Well, after he died, I wanted to make an alternate universe, where everything was silly and fun.

C: You succeeded.

GMW: Thank you. (It's a good thing it's alternate to both the Muggle and Magical worlds.)

C: In the Flashworld, your alternate universe, a band of five friends go saving the world from the evil Twin Kings, Fred and George.

GMW: Yes. (And trust the twins to make signed Twin Kings action figures a hot item at their stores.)

C: Can you tell us how you invented these five friends?

GMW: Sure. Let's see --- let's start with Ronnie the hippogruff. He's like a Hippogriff, except he's a hippo with wings and a gruff voice.

C: What's a Hippogriff?

GMW: A Hippogriff -- according to legend, of course (darn, shouldn't have said 'of course') is half horse and half eagle. Hippogriffs are elegant, wonderful, lithe creatures (oops... they are not real they are not real they are not real) in the stories. And they fly. And the idea of flying hippopotami - hippogruffs - is ...

C: Hilarious?

GMW: Yep, that's the word. Almost as hilarious as the Greeks thinking that hippos and horses were related.

C: We should probably explain to our readers that the Greek word hippopotamus means 'river horse'.

GMW: Yeah. The first European to see hippos must have only seen them in the water. He was probably pretty embarassed when the name caught on later.

C: Yes, probably. What about Lykan the wereduck?

GMW: Yes, she's a powerful witch, but every month -- on the new moon -- she loses her powers because she turns into a duck.

C: A fierce duck.

GMW: (Laughs.) Very fierce.

C: The name Lykan comes from Lycanthropy, right?

GMW: Yes, another Greek word, basically meaning the changing of a human to a wolf. I'm not sure what the right word is, but I like to call Lykan a quackanthrope.

C: Why did you make Lykan a wereduck, rather than, say, a werepig or weregoldfish?

GMW: Oh, I considered the werepig! But then Ronnie became a hippo, and pigs and hippos are too close together in my mind.

C: You didn't consider making Ronnie a flying pig?

GMW: Hippos are funnier.

C: To continue with your spoof, when wereducks drop - er - guano - on a human, he or she becomes a wereduck too.

GMW: Yes. And if that was true in real life, I'd be a wereduck many times over. Or a werepigeon.

C: Really? And one of those times, you were inspired to create wereducks?

GMW: Actually, about a week after that happened. I'm not a quick thinker.

C: And why the new moon? Surely they should become ducks on the full moon?

GMW: Well, my excuse is that wereducks used to change on the full moon, but then they'd get eaten by Werewolves. A freak mutation created a subpopulation of new moon wereducks that survived when the main population became extinct.

C: Okay, that's the excuse. What's the reason?

GMW: (Sighs.) If you must know, I got my moons mixed up. (Yeah, right, like I ever could. Speaking of which, I should pay Moony a visit.)

C: No! Really? Everyone knows Werewolves change on the full moon? How could you not know that?

GMW: (All Muggles know this? Uh-oh.) I grew up in a part of the world where no-one told stories about Werewolves.

C: Really? Where did you grow up?

GMW: (Hermione, help!) If I told you, I'd have to eat you.

C: Ha ha. Alright, we'll get that information out of you somehow.

GMW: Good luck. (Phew - whoever thought feigning ignorance could be so hard?)

C: Oh dear, we're running out of time. How about Carter?

GMW: Ah yes, Carter the cartaur. Head and torso of a human, body of a Ferrari. Well, an unnamed brand in the books; I didn't want to get in trouble with car manufacturers.

C: I bet most car makers would pay you to make him one of their cars.

GMW: I should talk to my agent.

C: I should talk to my lawyer. I want a cut - I suggested it! Finally, moving on to Susie and Hercules.

GMW: Yes, Susie's fun. She's a pengunix. That's like a Phoenix, except she's a penguin.

C: She seems to go through the birth-death cycle at a faster rate than once per 500 years, though. I believe it was once every third chapter in your last book?

GMW: Yes, she was rather exhausted by the end of it. Rebirth takes its toll on you.

C: Finally, Snapdragon.

GMW: He's there for comic effect.

C: The others aren't?

GMW: Okay, more comic effect. He wants to breathe fire, but ends up always breathing out whatever he's thinking about. Which is usually chocolate. (Snape would kill me.)

C: And in keeping with comic tradition, whatever he thinks of is inappropriate and yet effective.

GMW: Of course. That's an unbreakable rule of comedy.

C: Will he ever breathe fire in a future book? Just once?

GMW: Oh, he will, don't worry.

C: You must have had a lot of fun creating the Flashworld, with all its other inhabitants. Were there other creatures you thought of making, but didn't?

GMW: Well, there was the basilick. Anyone it licked turned to...

C: ... stone?

GMW: No, religion. (And it's a good thing Hermione told me not to do this -- I hadn't realized at the time how many Muggles don't want to make jokes about religion.)

C: (Laughs.) I see why that didn't get in.

GMW: Yes, me too. I owe it to a friend of mine - the most intelligent person I know - for advising me not to do so. She's brilliant.

C: Really? What's her name? What does she do?

GMW: Er. It's Her... Jane. (I hope Hermione doesn't kill me for that - she's almost as bad as Tonks with hating people knowing her full name...) I'm afraid I can't say any more since she works for the secret service.

C: (raises eyebrows.) Interesting friends you've got there.

GMW: And I wouldn't change that for the world.

C: Right. So, when is your next book coming out?

GMW: Well, it'll be a while. I'm taking a few months off writing for now - going camping again, helping a friend of mine who's making a career change, baking cakes ...

C: Do you have a title for it?

GMW: Remember I'm a wereduck. You do not want to be a wereduck. That's a threat.

C: Okay, I'll shut up here. Thank you for a very interesting hour, Mrs Weaster.

GMW: It's been my pleasure.