Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6989216/1/"Can I help you?" Dresden asked shortly, his patience for the day already dangerously low.
"I certainly hope so," the man replied with more cheer than should be legal, clearly finding something greatly amusing. "But first, I must ask if you really are a wizard."
Something about his tone made Dresden scowl. He gestured sharply, and the door that the stranger had just stepped through gusted close with a bang. "Happy?" he inquired, feeling inordinately pleased by the surprised expression on his visitor's face.
"Very much so," the teen replied, before reaching into a pocket on his long baggy pants and pulling out what looked to be a rather fragile blasting rod. Before Dresden had his own rod aimed at the now possible foe, he pointed his own rod at the ragged chair that was provided for clients and gave it a sharp flick.
Dresden blinked, lowering his focus in surprise. In the place of his old ragged chair now sat a rather comfortable looking padded armchair. He made a note to swap the chair around with his own before looking back to see that the annoying grin had now become a pleased smirk. Dresden scowled and tried to look like he hadn't just been about to attack his visitor. "Well then," he stated, leaning back into his own inadequate chair. "What can I do for you, Mr...?"
"Harry," the man replied confusing Dresden slightly before continuing, "Harry Potter. And I was hoping you'd be able to answer a few questions I have."
"Fire away," Dresden told Potter, "and depending on the questions, we can discuss payment afterwards."
Potter nodded before leaning forward. "Ok, first question: what part of the States am I in?"
Noticing Potter's British accent for the first time, Dresden replied, "Chicago."
Potter nodded. "What year is it?"
A pause. "2001. It's January."
"If I said the words Hogwarts, Voldemort or Crumple Horned Snorkack to you, what would you think?"
"That you've been playing around with anagrams and that you're no good at it," Dresden promptly replied.
Potter frowned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, that's just grand."
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