As Edward and Harry settled the final means of the battle, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had a talk.
“Who wrote this rubbish?” asked Ron. “Sparkle in the sun, battle with debate, they don’t even drink proper blood!”
Hermione, as usual, was the one to answer. “Ron, everyone knows Stephanie Meyer wrote this ‘rubbish.’ She’s not a very good writer, according to The Daily Prophet, and for once I agree with them,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “At least OUR writer, the brilliant J K Rowling, didn’t make US sparkle in the sun. What nonsense!”
“Do you know where this Meyer person lives?” spoke up Ginny.
“Yes,” replied Hermione immediately. She lives in United States, Arizona, Phoenix.”
“Oh,” said Ginny simply. Then a mischievous smile spread across her face. “You know,” she started casually; “we could go there for a vacation.”
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. Before they could talk, Harry came back to them, frowning.
“WHO wrote their book? They’re too scared to do battle!” Harry was so preoccupied in ranting that he didn’t notice Hermione, Ron, and Ginny glancing at each other. “Cowards, really. Say they don’t want to suffer heavy losses! Oh honestly! What was all the preparation for, then? If only I could get them back just once!”
He could have gone on, but Ginny stopped him. “We were just talking about that,” she said tensely. “I think we have a way of getting them back.” Ginny glanced around. “But it involves going to Arizona, Phoenix.”