Then let's go to London!

July 22, 2000 | Nottingham – London | England

POV Oliver

Oliver sat in his train compartment from Nottingham to London. He had spent the first week of his summer holidays with Helen and Beatrice.

In his hands was today's edition of The Times, a newspaper that covered both the latest stock prices and the daily news.

As usual, Oliver had intended to check Qualcomm's share price first, but while flipping through the pages, something had caught his eye and made him stop.

──── 📰 ────

M20 DEATH-CRASH DRIVER RELEASED EARLY ON PAROLE

Peter Collins, the lorry driver convicted over a motorway accident that claimed two lives, has been released early after serving nearly six years of his original ten-year sentence.

Collins was convicted following the September 19, 1994 accident on the M20 near Maidstone, in which Daniel and Sarah Bennett lost their lives.

The court heard that Collins had continued his journey despite knowing that his lorry was overloaded with steel pipes. During the journey, he also discovered that one of the straps securing the load was damaged, but chose not to replace it and continued towards Dover.

Shortly afterwards, the securing strap failed. Several steel pipes came loose from the trailer and fell onto the motorway. The resulting chain of events ended in the deaths of Daniel and Sarah Bennett.

Their four-year-old son, Oliver, survived the accident.

Collins was sentenced to ten years in prison. After serving nearly six years, he has now been granted early release on parole for good behaviour.

During his time in prison, Collins is said to have repeatedly expressed remorse for his role in the deaths of the Bennett couple.

──── 📰 ────

Almost six years!

Peter Collins. The man from his dreams.

Oliver had spent a great deal of time over the past few years thinking about those dreams. Again and again, he dreamed not only of Peter Collins, but of Sarah and Daniel Bennett as well.

So he had looked into it—and he had known about the parole hearing too. Margaret had written to him and asked whether he wanted to attend.

Of course, he had declined.

Oliver Bennett was dead. At least, that was what he believed.

Even if the dreams of his predecessor suggested otherwise. By now, he wasn't even sure anymore whether he had actually been reincarnated into this body or had somehow simply woken up because of the injury.

Why else would he dream about a life he had never lived?

But after nearly six years as Oliver Bennett, the question had gradually lost its importance. His old life was over, and by now he had accepted his new identity.

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That didn't mean, of course, that he wouldn't eventually look for his old family.

Facebook should be founded in a few years—his first real opportunity to search for them.

Assuming Facebook was even founded at all.

Oliver wasn't quite so sure about that anymore. Until recently, he had never really questioned whether the future would happen the way he remembered it. Now he had a very good reason to.

Qualcomm should have exploded last year.

He had managed to save and invest £10,000. After more than a year, it should have grown to nearly £300,000 by now.

But nothing!

No record-breaking year. Quite the opposite.

Of his £10,000, only £8,500 remained.

Oliver had to hold back tears just thinking about it. His entire plan for the future had been based on using his knowledge of what was to come to make himself rich.

Apparently, it wasn't going to be quite that simple.

If I'd known that, I would've said yes to the crazy lady!

Even now, he could still remember that conversation far too clearly. She had appeared at Mill Grove the year before with an offer that most children probably would've accepted before she'd even finished explaining it.

Oliver, of course, had done the exact opposite.

***Flashback***

"I want you!" Joanne said, almost fanatically.

"You're insane!" Oliver replied, bewildered.

"You're perfect for it," she insisted.

"Joanne—no, Mrs Rowling!" Oliver paused dramatically. "You want me to play Harry Potter because you saw me playing the piano last year? I didn't even know Harry Potter could play the piano," he mocked her.

"The piano has absolutely nothing to do with it," Joanne shot back. "When I saw you back then, you looked exactly the way I'd always imagined Harry. Except for the hair."

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"And then, when Sister Margaret wanted to take a picture of you—do you remember what you said to her?"

Oliver hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.

"I remember it perfectly! I even used it in my second book." Joanne had calmed down somewhat by now. "Ever since the second book, Harry Potter has practically been an image of you in my head."

Oliver genuinely didn't know what to make of that. He had no interest in becoming an actor, much less in playing Harry Potter.

He wanted money—but he wanted his freedom too.

Eight films = eight years!

For what? A few million?

In eight years, I'll have my first billion!

"Mrs Rowling, I'm sorry," he finally said, looking helplessly towards his nun to put an end to the conversation.

"Joanne—enough," Margaret said.

***End Flashback***

The memory did little to improve Oliver's mood as he made his way through the London station.

So much for eight years until my first billion. At this rate, he'd be lucky if there was anything left of his £10,000 in eight years.

At least I'm rid of Emma!

What Oliver didn't know was that, while he was making his way towards Mill Grove, someone else was already planning to do exactly the same.

***

July 22, 2000 | Leavesden Studios, Hertfordshire, England

POV Joanne Rowling | The Unknown Fan

"So, the Radcliffes said no?" Joanne asked, unable to hide her satisfaction.

"Spare me the gloating, Jo!" Chris shot back. "I'm going to talk to them again!"

"No, you're not! Not until we've spoken to Bennett one more time!" Joanne insisted.

"I don't understand you, Jo. Why are you so obsessed with that boy?" Chris asked.

"You'd understand if you'd seen him in that play! He's perfect for the role, and he can act," she said with absolute conviction.

Joanne and Chris were like cat and dog. She knew it, and so did he. They both wanted what was best for the project, but they couldn't always agree on what exactly that was.

One of those points of contention was the casting of Harry Potter. They had been searching for the right boy for almost a year now.

Joanne, however, knew that she wasn't going to find anyone who could replace Oliver—and that had never been her intention in the first place.

She wanted Warner to offer Oliver a contract attractive enough that even the little devil couldn't say no.

Sister Margaret and Joanne had stayed in contact since the first performance, and through her, Joanne had learned that the boy was damn greedy when it came to money.

"Fine, then let's try one more time," Chris finally said, giving her a stern look. "But if it doesn't work, we're talking to the Radcliffes again—and this time, you're staying out of it!"

Joanne beamed at him.

"Then let's go to London!"