Re-reading them through made me think of my stay at the Balmoral Hotel while at work on Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince. Some memories stick to you like dried glue in the hair or honey on a counter top, and those days alone in that hotel room sometimes left me shook as I raced through the dying scenes of the last Harry Potter book that would ever be published.
I remember the way that my fingers flew across the keyboard, the muffled sounds of the maids in the hall as they joked with each other as well as hearing some fresh gossip about how one of the chef's downstairs was a real wizard in hiding as a muggle who loved to cook, that one makes me laugh out loud even to this day.
The car came to a stop at a red light jolting me out of my memories just in time for me to look up and see someone standing on the corner on their iphone.
It was just beginning to rain.
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FanfictionWhen Joanne sets out to write the canon of all Harry Potter Fan-fic she is run amok with ideas but only one has stuck with her even from the start of the Harry Potter legacy that has endured for years. Join her on this journey as she can only t...
