Harry Potter Prequel (short 800 word)

[Non-techie]

Waterstones, an UK based bookseller, invited 13 authors, some months back, to write a short story for there campaign titled "What's your story?" All the money raised was to be donated for charity.

As it happened, JK Rowling was one of the authors who was requested to write (surprise, surprise) and guess what? She wrote an 800-word prequel to Harry Potter!!!

All the written pieces were auctioned on 10th of this month. JKR's narrative was auctioned for £25,000(the all other 12 stories went for £22k).

The only condition set was that the story must fit an A5 card.

You can read (and see) all the stories here. NOTE: Some stories are not suitable for children.

This is the JKR's written piece.
Page 1

Page 2

This is the typed story. Source

The speeding motorcycle took the sharp corner so fast in the darkness that both policemen in the pursuing car shouted,"Whoa!" Sergeant Fisher slammed his large foot on the brake, thinking that the boy who was riding pillion was sure to be flung under his wheels; however, the motorbike made the turn without unseating either of its riders, and with a wink of its red tail lights, vanished up the narrow side street.

"We've got 'em now!" cried PC Anderson excitedly. "That's a dead end!"

Leaning hard on the steering wheel and crashing his gears, Fisher scraped half the paint off the flank of the car as he forced it up the alleyway in pursuit.

There in the headlights sat their quarry, stationary at last after a quarter of an hour's chase. The two riders were trapped between a towering brickwall and the police car, which was now crawling towards them like some growling luminous-eyes predator.

There was so little space between the car doors and the walls of the alley that Fisher and Anderson had difficulty extricating themselves from the vehicle. It injured their dignity to have to inch, crab-like, towards the miscreants. Fisher dragged his generous belly along the wall, tearing buttons off his shirt as he went, and finally snapping off the wing mirror with his backside.

"Get off the bike!" he bellowed at the smirking youths, who sat basking in the flashing blue light as though enjoying it.

They did as they were told, finally pulling free from the broken wing mirror, Fisher glared at them. They seemed to be in their late teens. The one who had been driving had long black hair, his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter's guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend. The second boy also had black hair, though his was short and stuck up in all directions; he wore glasses and a broad grin. Both were dressed in t-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, timeless rock band.

"No helmet!" Fisher yelled, pointing from one uncovered head to the other. "Exceeding the speed limit by-by a considerable amount!" (In fact, the speed registered had been greater than Fisher was prepared to accept that any motorcycle could travel.) "Failure to stop for the police!"

"We'd have loved to stop for a chat," said the boy in glasses,"only we were trying--"

"Don't get smart-you two are in a heap of trouble!" snarled Anderson. "Names!"

"Names?" repeated the long-haired driver."Er-Well, let's see. There's Wilberforce...Bathsheba...Elvendork..."

"And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy OR a girl," said the boy in glasses.

"Oh, our names, did you mean?" asked the first, as Anderson spluttered with rage."You should've said! This here is James Potter, and I'm Sirius Black!"

"Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little-"

But neither James nor Sirius was paying attention. They were suddenly as alert as gundogs, staring past Fisher and Anderson, over the roof of the police car, at the dark mouth of the alley. Then, with identical, fluid movements, they reached into their back pockets.

For the space of a heartbeat both policemen imagined guns gleaming at them, but a second later they saw that the motorcyclists had drawn nothing more than-

"Drumsticks?" jeered Anderson. "Right pair of jokers, aren't you? Right, we're arresting you on a charge of--"

But Anderson never got to name the charge. James and Sirius had shouted something incomprehensible, and the beams from the headlights had moved.

The policemen wheeled around, then staggered backwards. Three men were flying-actually flying- up the alley on broomsticks-and at the same moment,the police car was rearing up on its back wheels.

Fisher's knee bucked; as he sat down hard; Anderson tripped over Fisher's legs and fell on top of him, as flump-bang-crunch- they heard the mean on brooms slam into the suspended car and fall, apparently insensible, to the ground, while broken bits of broomstick clattered down around them.

The motorbike had roared into life again. His mouth hanging open, Fisher mustered the strength to look back at the two teenagers.

"Thanks very much!" called Sirius over the throb of the engine."We owe you one!"

"Yeah, nice meeting you!" said James. "And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!"

There was an earth-shaking crash, and Fisher and Anderson threw their arms around each other in fright; their car had just fallen back to the ground. Now it was the motorcycle's turn to rear. Before the policemen's disbelieving eyes, it took off into thin air: James and Sirius zoomed away into the night sky, their tail light twinkling behind them like a vanishing ruby.

From the prequel I am not working on-but that was fun! J.K. Rowling.2008

This is what she wrote on her website.

Section: News
Thursday 29 May 2008
Waterstones Charity Auction

A few months ago a number of authors were invited to handwrite cards for auction by Waterstones, on June 10, all proceeds to go to English PEN, the writers' association, and the Dyslexia Society.

After playing around with a number of different ideas I decided to write a short (for me!) excerpt from a prequel to the Potter series. It is about 800 words long and the action takes place around 3 years before Harry is born.

Although I did feel a bit like a relapsing addict as I sat down to write - the words poured from my pen with frightening ease - I am NOT working on a prequel. Indeed, I've written that clearly at the bottom of the card itself. I just thought that this was the best way to make money for two extremely worthwhile charities.

The good news for Potter fans who will not be able to bid at the auction is that you will be able to read the short story (along with amazing contributions from Doris Lessing, Margaret Atwood, Tom Stoppard, Irvine Welsh, Sebastian Faulks, Axel Scheffler, Lauren Child, Nick Hornby, Neil Gaiman, Lisa Appignanesi, Richard Ford, and Michael Rosen) by purchasing a book of facsimiles, which will be available in August. The proceeds from this book, too, will go to the charities.

Also, every one of you is invited to write a story as well. The only conditions that it must not exceed an A5 size story card. All selected articles will appear in their Online gallery and three winners (two adults and one under-18) will receive prizes and there stories will appear along with the 13 authors’ narratives in a postcard-book (to be published in August), whose proceeds will go to charities as well. The deadline is June 19th. Visit.

[Leopard]

Thanks for sharing.

[ZOzos]

Thx

[Non-techie]

No problem!!!
The person who gave the highest bidding is a Korean business man and plans to auction it again in coming years.