בעברית: הארי פוטר. הסוף. בערך.
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Harry Potter walked down the street, feeling he had closed a circle. In a sense of relief he whistled to himself. Suddenly he felt a burn in the scar... "No, that doesn't make sense anymore," he thought.
As he stood astonished, a golden-haired witch in a black robe, wearing opal jewelry, appeared in front of him. Her wand was turned towards Harry and her beautiful face was furious.
"Seven years..." she said, every word as if pierced by Harry's flesh. "Seven years I think only of you, focusing on you all the time... even more than seven years... when you were born, when your parents fought Voldemort, when you came to school... I was there..."
Harry felt that all his life had led him to confront this witch, whom he did not even know. He carefully pulled out his staff, trying to read her mind, surprised to absorb maternal emotion from her direction.
"Seven years... you grew, you got stronger, and you insisted to carry on... Your mother gave her life to protect you when you were one year old... Cedric Digory was killed because Voldemort did not need him... Sirius Black your beloved godfather was murdered by Bellatrix.. And the list goes on and on... What makes you go on? What makes me accompany you all this time..? My life has been completely turned upside down... I can't write anymore without being sent owls and regular letters about me killing one character or another... No one understands that it was for the sake of the great plan... "
Harry looked at her, shocked by the flow of her speech, an unpleasant feeling gripping him. "Expelliarmus!" He shouted as she screamed "Stupefy!" A flash of red light moved from Harry's wand toward the other wand, from which a flash of golden light moved toward him that obscured the red.
"Introducio!" She screamed, and a shiver gripped Harry's body as a stream of information hit him.
"Joan ..?"
"Yeah, Harry..." she said, "I've been following you for so long, in books, in movies, in the press... felt like I'm no longer alive... the fans who tell me how to act, the screenwriters and directors who change the plot and find things I did not think about... yes... they said I was not sensitive enough... that I did not really relate to Cedric's death... they even said that I was a murderer... "
"I don't think so..." Harry said, his body still tense, his wand raised forward.
"Oh yeah? Why is your wand still raised?"
Harry bowed his head, lowered his hands. "Would you like a drink? Maybe a cup of tea?"
"You see," Joan continued, still agitated, "they're not giving me a rest... I want to go on with my life, to turn in other directions... even if I finish the book series, why shouldn't them ask me again to write your experiences? Or other events in past or the future? They won't give me any rest at all..."
In an attempt to calm her down, Harry waved his wand, and began to summon a tea cart from the nearby café, along with two cups, milk, sugar and cookies. From the mists of her thoughts, Joan noticed that Harry was doing magic and waved his wand at him.
"What the he-" Harry managed to shout, as a green light surrounded him from every direction...
I've originally wrote it in Hebrew, at Harry Potter forum, back in 2005.
I've translated the story to English with the assistance of Harry Potter Wiki.
Image by Dmitry Abramov from Pixabay
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