The corner seemed ordinary, just like most of the other seats in the café, nothing special about it. But there was an old, small stroller beside it, and on the round table, a coffee cup held down several small pieces of paper.
Catherine's heart skipped a beat. This couldn't be possible, could it? She remembered asking around in every café, but no one had ever mentioned seeing a woman fitting her description.
Hesitating slightly, she stood up, trying to look as if she were simply curious about the café. Slowly, she made her way over to the corner table. She glanced at the stroller—it was empty. Of course, a mother wouldn't leave her child alone.
The coffee cup on the table was nearly empty, and the small pieces of paper beneath it were covered in writing. Catherine had excellent eyesight, so even though the letters were tiny, she could read them without picking up the paper. The word "Hogwarts" caught her eye in the next second.
The little girl felt dizzy. Damn it, she had almost scoured the entire Old Town for this, and she was even considering checking the New Town next. And yet, it was right here, in the very first café they had visited. Who was the idiot who said there was no such person here?
Of course, she set those thoughts aside for now. The most important thing was to see what the early version of Harry Potter was like. Without hesitation, Catherine pulled the small pieces of paper out from under the cup and began reading them carefully. Like many others, she had watched the movies before becoming interested in the books, and of course, she loved the series. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come all this way to find the "Magic Mom."
However, this early version of Harry Potter was missing quite a few elements compared to the version she was familiar with. For one thing, Hagrid wasn't a giant yet, and Hogwarts only had three houses. The Golden Trio was there, but Ron's twin brothers hadn't appeared. From some of the notes, it seemed that Rowling was still figuring out Quidditch, one of the most fascinating aspects of the series. Catherine had to admit that Rowling really was a genius.
As Catherine was engrossed in reading the notes, a voice suddenly interrupted her. "Excuse me… miss, could you please return my papers?"
The little girl snapped back to reality and looked up. A woman, holding a baby girl who couldn't be more than a few months old, was eyeing her warily.
"H-Hello, ma'am," Catherine stammered, feeling a bit like she'd been caught stealing. The woman looked young, but there was a weary, haggard expression on her face, as if she were barely holding it together.
Catherine wasn't sure if this was really J.K. Rowling. After all, it had been years since she last saw a photo of her, and she didn't look like this. Back then, Rowling was successful and radiant, far from the struggling figure standing before her now.
"Is this… your work?" Catherine hesitantly held up the papers and asked.
Maybe she moved too suddenly, because the woman clenched her fists slightly, a flash of anxiety in her eyes. Noticing this, Catherine quickly slowed her movements, carefully placing the papers back under the coffee cup.
The woman let out a sigh of relief and, after putting her baby in the stroller, hurried over to gather up the papers. Perhaps Catherine's careful handling of the papers had won her a bit of goodwill, because the woman looked up and gave her a small smile as she tidied up.
A few seconds later, the woman seemed reassured that everything was in order. She smiled again at the little girl and said, "Sorry, I got a bit tense. This has happened before, where something I've worked so hard on went missing."
"It's alright. I love to write too, so I understand," Catherine replied with a smile of her own. Seeing that the woman seemed ready to leave, she quickly added, "Um, could I finish reading it?"
The woman looked surprised and pointed to the papers in her hand. "You mean… this?"
"Yes, I think it's really interesting," Catherine said sincerely. "Could I?"
Seeing that the woman was hesitant, Catherine quickly added, "It won't take long. As a thank you, I can buy you a cup of coffee. How about that?"
The woman seemed tempted but then hesitated, considering Catherine's age—she couldn't be more than eleven or twelve. Just then, Kate's voice called out from across the café, "Cathy, where are you?"
Catherine quickly turned to their table and called back, "I'm over here, Kate! Can you come here, please?"
Kate glanced over and saw Catherine, immediately making her way over. "I told you not to wander off," she said.
"Alright, Kate," Catherine quickly tried to change the subject, gesturing to the young woman beside her. "This is…"
She trailed off, realizing she hadn't even asked the woman's name. Although she was 80% sure it was Rowling, she didn't want to make any incorrect assumptions. Fortunately, the woman came to her rescue, extending her hand to Kate. "Hello, I'm Joanne Kathleen Rowling."
"Hello, I'm Kate Beckinsale," Kate responded, a bit confused but shaking Rowling's hand.
"And I'm Catherine Mason," the little girl quickly added, shaking Rowling's hand as well. It was a shame she couldn't take a picture; this would be incredibly valuable and memorable ten years later.
"Here's the thing, Kate," Catherine began explaining to Kate. "I accidentally saw some of Ms. Rowling's work, and I really liked the story. So I wanted to buy her a coffee and ask if I could finish reading it."
As she spoke, she gazed at Kate with her most pleading eyes, trying to win her over emotionally. Though Kate didn't quite understand what novel had gotten Catherine so excited, she played along. "Of course, that's fine. Is that alright with you, Ms. Rowling? This little one really loves books."
Rowling didn't refuse. The three of them sat down in the corner, and Kate called over the waiter, asking for their previous orders to be brought over, and also ordered a cup of coffee and a small cake for Rowling. Although Rowling initially declined, she eventually accepted after noticing that Catherine was already engrossed in reading.
The next half hour passed quietly as the little girl read. Kate started off by making small talk with Rowling, but after reading a few pages that Catherine handed over, she too was drawn into the story. Rowling, however, didn't take advantage of the lull to continue writing. Instead, she kept an eye on her sleeping daughter, stirring her coffee with a touch of unease—this was the first time her work had been read by strangers.
Finally, Catherine finished all the chapters Rowling had written so far and looked up, still hungry for more. "Is there more?" she asked, her tone genuinely disappointed. This wasn't an act—this early version of "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" was so different from the version she knew. While the overall structure was similar, there were many novel ideas, even if some parts weren't as polished yet.
"I'm really—sorry, Catherine," Rowling replied, clearly emotional. "I haven't fully worked out the next part yet, and even what you've read still needs a lot of revision."
"That's such a shame," Catherine said regretfully, knowing that every revision Rowling made would bring the novel closer to its final form, which meant losing some of its freshness.
"I'm sure if it gets published, it will cause a sensation. This is a truly magical story; just the concept of Quidditch shows how much thought you've put into it. You're amazing, Ms. Rowling," Catherine said earnestly. Kate, who had also been captivated by the story, nodded in agreement. "Yes, Rowling, it's really excellent," she echoed.
For a moment, Rowling remained silent, then suddenly bowed her head, her shoulders trembling as she tried to suppress her sobs. Catherine and Kate, shocked, quickly moved to support her on either side.
"I'm okay, don't worry, I'm okay," Rowling whispered, holding onto their hands. After a moment, she finally looked up, her face streaked with tears.
Taking the tissue Catherine handed her, Rowling wiped her eyes and gradually regained her composure. She smiled faintly, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."
"It's nothing. I imagine you've been through a lot. If you don't mind, you can talk to us about it. We won't tell anyone," Catherine said, instinctively squeezing Rowling's hand.
Rowling gave a bitter smile and, after a brief pause, began to open up. Once she started, it was as if she couldn't stop, her words flowing out in a torrent. She spoke mostly about her awful husband. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be living in a small, dark apartment now, having to warm up in a café. Her daughter, sensing her mother's rare moment of release, slept peacefully without fussing.
Although Catherine had already read about these things online in her previous life, hearing them directly from Rowling herself was an entirely different experience. She couldn't help but feel a deep sympathy for her and, at the same time, a sense of guilt. Thank goodness she hadn't impulsively plagiarized Harry Potter; otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to face Rowling now.
"Everything will get better, Ms. Rowling, please believe in yourself," Catherine comforted her. "My grandfather always says, when God closes a door, he opens a window. So please, hang in there, even if it's just for your daughter."
"Thank you, Catherine," Rowling said, her face looking much brighter after her outburst.
"You know," she continued softly, "these past few days, I almost lost the will to go on. The only reason I'm still holding on is because of my daughter. But today, meeting you, Catherine, I realized that God hasn't abandoned me after all. Thank you—you're my angel."
The little girl blushed, her heart filled with a mix of emotions. Just then, Kate suddenly exclaimed, "Oh no, the plane!"
Catherine jolted and checked her watch. Damn, it was almost 6 PM! She hurriedly began gathering her things and quickly said to Rowling, "I'm sorry, Ms. Rowling, but we have to go. Before we leave, could you give me your address?"
She grabbed a small piece of paper, flipped it over, and handed it to Rowling. "There's no time, so just write it here. My parents have some friends in charity organizations. I think they might be able to help you out of your current situation."
Rowling didn't hesitate, quickly jotting down her address and handing it back to Catherine with a heartfelt "Thank you." The little girl hugged her after packing up her things and said with a hint of a plea, "I have to go now, but promise me, Auntie Rowling, if you're ever in pain, please see a therapist. Don't do anything rash—I'm still waiting for your book to be published."
"Alright, I will," Rowling replied with a smile.
"I'm leaving now, but I'll write to you!" Catherine waved as she and Kate, who had just settled the bill, hurried out of the café.