"How about Gwyneth Paltrow?"

"So that's all settled then," Arthur Miller smiled sweetly and swept the papers on his desk back into his briefcase. "Thank you for coming. Hope to see you soon."

Ronald Weasley got to his feet and moved stiffly out the office. His face was settled in an expression of deep confusion and his lips were still mouthing words as though he were repeating the conversation back to himself in the hope to make more sense of it the second time round.

Once he had left Arthur allowed himself a little chuckle. It was all too easy really. He leaned down and knocked open a secret compartment underneath the desk. A single slice of paper slipped out. Arthur placed it on the desk and ran his finger down until he got to the name 'Ron Weasley'. He got out his very best pen and carefully added a tick to the list next to it. He then replaced the paper and the pen and called his secretary.

"A cup of tea please," he said. "But no tea leaves this time. All that future gives me a headache."

"Very good, sir," said his receptionist. "And there's a Luna Lovegood here to see you."

Arthur groaned. "Very well," he said. "Send her in."

He couldn't stand Luna. She was so... clear headed. Arthur knew from experience that most of the fictional characters that walked in his office at Broderick Bunny's (that less famous bunny) fictional character agency service had very smoky minds. Muddled up by money, fame, wants, hopes, childhood traumas, adult traumas and all sorts of other Freudian things. Luna's mind was as clear as a bell and though this made her seem odd and dreamy to other people to Arthur it was annoying. It was impossible to do what Arthur was good at. Build up the pressure, confuse them utterly, make blanks in their mind and fill up those blanks with utter rubbish until they get psychological damage. He was an expert! It was no wonder Fudge was in a complete mess! But no matter what he tried Luna was just oblivious to it. She was causing him psychological damage. He's been shown the inkblots - they were all Luna.

"Mr Miller," said Luna, coming in and getting straight down to business as she always did. "I want to talk about possible actresses to play me in the Order of the Phoenix Movie."

"You know the rules," said Arthur. "The director gets to choose whomever he likes."

"I thought Renée Zellweger," said Luna, ignoring him.

"She's American," said Arthur, frankly.

"I know," said Luna. "But I've seen Bridget Jones and she does a very good British accent."

"She's a bit old-"

"How about Gwyneth Paltrow?"

"I don't think so."

"But she's great at playing two people," Luna insisted. "I've seen Sliding Doors."

"There's only one of you in Order of the Phoenix," said Arthur.

Luna frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, I must have read it wrong. How about Cameron Diaz?"

"These are all too old," Arthur protested. "You're fourteen in the movie. You can't be played by a thirty year old."

"How about Reese Witherspoon then," said Luna. "She's got to be only twenty something."

"Look," said Arthur, trying to take back control of the conversation. "You can't have any of them. They've got to be British."

"British?"

"Yes."

"No exceptions."

"Yes."

"Just British actors."

"Yes."

"How about Hugh Grant then."

Arthur was stunned the silence. "Female! British female actors."

"He is British!"

"He's not a girl though."

"He's got girly hair."

There was silence again.

"Look," said Arthur. "I'll admit that he's got girly hair. But that does not make him a girl actor."

"Kate Winslet then," said Luna.

"She may be a bit too Hollywood to appear in a Harry Potter film. Especially as a minor character."

Arthur had hoped this remark would cause offence. It didn't even graze the top of Luna's head as it swooped over.

"Milly then," she said.

"Who's Milly?" Arthur asked, almost in tears.

"She's this girl that lives down my road.

"Is she British?"

"Yes."

"Is she fourteen?"

"Yes."

"Is she a she?"
"Yes."

"Does she look like you?"

"Yes."

"Great she sounds perfect. Is she an actor?"

"Oh yes."

Pause.

"What's the catch?"

"What do you mean?"

"She sounds perfect. What's the catch?"

"There is no catch."

"Milly's a dog, isn't she?"

Nothing moved on Luna's face. No crack of a smile, no sparkle of a joke. "An Afghan Hound."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Who looks like you?"

"I know! The resemblance is shocking. You wouldn't believe it."

"I'm sure I wouldn't. But we were looking for someone a bit more... Human."

Luna shrugged and moved on down her list as quick as a flash. "How about Kiera Knightley?"

"I don't know-" started Arthur.

"But she knows Orlando Bloom," Luna insisted. "And if we met I could ask her to introduce us and I'm certain we could have the greatest love affair of the twenty-first century."

Arthur stared and gave up. "I'll pass that along."

Luna got to her feet, said, "That's all I wanted," and left.

Once she was out the door Luna stopped and reached in to her bag. She plucked up an extremely folded piece of paper from a pocket and got out a simple biro. She then placed another tick to the very long list next to the name 'Arthur Miller'.