Harry Potter and the Trouble With Neurotypicals: Book Four.
Or, "Aspie Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

Note: I do not own this. J. K. Rowling does. This is just fan fiction. No money is being made. Not by me, anyway.

Note 2: There may be a few bits and pieces lifted word-for-word from the canon material. I tried to do that as little as possible, though. And the more this deviates from canon, the less that will happen. But some descriptions and things like that are too good to skip or try to reword.

Jessie was still recovering from her wounds. However, the doctor wasn’t ready to release her yet. She was still sharing the same room with her aunt. Her Aunt Mary was making progress with her recovery. Her doctor was thinking about releasing her in a few days. She was watching the news with her Aunt Mary yesterday afternoon, when the news caster spoke about the death of the President and Vice President of an MC under investigation in West Virginia were found dead.

Sophie tried to smile as she took her seat in the vast, modern Wembley Stadium. It wasn’t the first time that she’d been to Wembley to see a game- from a certain perspective, anyway. From a different perspective, it was undoubtedly the first time that ‘Sophie Connelly’ had ever set foot in the legendary stadium, something that the English girl found impossible to forget as she sat down and felt her tights begin to sag while her thong rode even higher between her buttocks.

The crazy day of modeling ended in a drawn-out discussion with parents...
Mom says, “Hopefully no one recognized the similarity of the Slade sisters to our family..."

Twenty minutes later, I'd read the letter and knew the bad news. It made me feel rotten to the core and angry at the same time. My past had indeed caught up with me. What’s made it worse that it opened up a side of me that I was trying my hardest not to remember. After reading it twice, I decided that I needed to speak to Marcel.

Thankfully, his car was parked outside his home so I went inside looking for him.

“I’m in the back Jean, come on through,” he called to me when I spoke his name.

Marcel was sitting at his kitchen reading the newspaper.

The Girl Most Likely To … - Part 59
By Barbara Lynn Terry

Chapter 1 - Court Date.

The court deputy picked up the prisoners that were going to court. Among these were Richard MacConnell and Franklin J. Dinsworthy, Richard’s attorney.There four prisoners altogether. The court deputy rold them all to stand single file.

They walked the short distance from the jail to the courthouse. The court deputy placed the prisoners in a holding cell to wait until they were called before the judge. In the holding cell, Richard was talking to Frank.

How Deep Is Your Beauty?
(c) 2017
Haylee V

Once upon a time, a poor farmer married a beautiful princess. She was every bit as charming, graceful, and genteel on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside. The two were madly in love with each other, and even though the princess had to give up her right to the throne in order to marry such a commoner, she never once regretted her decision.

Chapter 20 - Yolanda

By Monica Rose and Marina Kelly
Proofread by: Qmodo

Mary Sue stood in the doorway of the library's special archives, hands on her hips. Before her stood the rows of shelves that had been in the basement when she had arrived.

Hopefully this isn’t too soon after the Grenfell Tower disaster to seem disrespectful. I actually started writing it a year ago, and only picked it up to try and finish it a few months back. Then a lot of people died in London and I put it back on the shelf with all the many unfinished stories I seem to have generated recently. I feel I need to get something published again though, and I hate having all these loose ends floating about in my life. I have one story that’s just topped 200,000 words with a couple of chapters to go, which I’m hoping to finish this summer. Haven’t decided what I’m going to do with that yet, but in the meantime, I’d love to hear what you think of this one.

A Blank Page

By Flummox

I’ve been on the station nearly a week. It’s taking this long for Bob’s Gun’s to get their money together, and I’m beginning to think they’re jerking me around.

But that’s not why I’m staying.

I’ve been sleeping in that weird bed for three nights. Well we do a lot less than sleep. That is, very little sleep goes on in the bed. Sort of.

For three days I’ve slept in, while Lia goes off to work her ten hours. Hard is the kind of place that stay open at her convenience, and the regulars know when to come. The non-regulars find somewhere soft to drink.