Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do, however, own the Quiz.

A/N: It's finally here! This is my chapter, later will follow other people's requests. I already have a couple of requests, so I will deal with those first.

I would like to dedicate this story to Matt (crapmuffins) and Derrick (who doesn't have an FF profile) for allowing me to use them in this story.

Potterholics Anonymous

Chapter One: Do You Really Know Harry Potter?

Click-click-clack, click-click-clack.

Liz's fingers flew over the keys, the digits forming an intricate dance as letters formed rapidly on the lit screen in front of her. Her brow was not at all furrowed; indeed, she even appeared to be relaxed, as if this were a daily routine, just as normal as brushing her teeth or changing the number of days on the board in the corner of the room.

Two, it now read. Two days.

A smile lit Liz's face as this thought suddenly intruded before beginning typing once again.

Then, inexplicably, she stopped, glaring at the screen for a second before beginning to riffle through the large text open before her. The tome was dog-eared and worn, appearing to have suffered this treatment dozens of times and, to some, would appear to be much abused.

No, it was only much loved.

The cover was worn, but it was still possible to see it had originally been made in varying shades of blue. Candles lined the walls, casting their luminescence over the entire room – and the hunched-over wizard standing in the middle of it. Embossed silver letters above the wizard read Harry Potter while, below him, was the author's name. J.K. Rowling.

"Hmm," she muttered to herself, continuing to flip the pages, eyes scanning them as fast as she had just been typing.

"What is it?" A voice intruded on Liz's thoughts and she swung to see the man sitting on the bed a few feet away. Squinting at the screen, the man tucked a wayward piece of his long hair behind one ear. "Is that the Quiz?"

"Yeah, and I can't. . . ."

"You're doing the Quiz?" Jumping the last few steps to the basement bedroom, another man went and knelt beside the computer, staring raptly at the screen; the words stared blankly back; stretching – line by line – into infinity . . . or four hundred or so. Take your pick.

"Is that the Answer Key? Are you done yet?" the visitor asked.

"No, Derrick."

"Well, you're on page two hundred for the Quiz," Derrick said, tapping the sidebar. "What about the Answer Key?"

"One sixty."

"So . . . tomorrow, then?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "No, Derrick," she repeated. "I'll have it done on that date I gave you – November eleventh . . . something or other. . . ."

"Two-thousand ten."

"Yes, that. . . . Ah ha!" Having located the correct page, Liz began to skim her finger down it, head bobbing back and forth as if to a song only she could hear.

"But Matt said you'd have it for me today," Derrick whined, flopping to the floor. "Waiting till tomorrow is a huge sacrifice as it is."

"Matt says many things," Liz retorted, only half-listening as she glanced at Matt now leaned comfortably against a pillow as he played Zelda. "Few of which are true. Like, remember when he told you I hated you?"

"You do hate me!" Derrick howled. "You are torturing me! Ahhhhhhhhh!"

As if to help ease his pain, he grabbed the sandal from Liz's foot and began trying to stuff it up Matt's pant leg. Abandoning his game, Matt batted at the dirty flip-flop before succumbing to helpless hysterics.

"Well, it does take time," Liz continued, attempting to glare despite the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "I mean, there's a question for every page for Merlin's sake!"

"Ha, you said Merlin." Matt laughed.

"Yes," she replied, grinning slyly. "And you say waffle."

"Waffle!"

Derrick laughed appreciatively before speaking.

"Liz?"

"Hmm?" Her fingers began to dance across the keyboard again. Answer: C – History of Magic.

"How long have you been working on this?"

"Oh, I don't know. Wait a sec, let me think . . . since two-thousand five, so I was . . . fifteen. I think."

"Around four years, then," Matt answered, having abandoned his game.

Derrick whistled softly. "Whoa."

"Yeah,"

Liz didn't reply. Once again, her face was free of strain or worry lines and words had begun forming on the screen once again with almost alarming rapidity.

226.) Who in Fred and George's class broke out in boils OWL year?

Answer: C – Kenneth Towler

227.) What was Fred and George's first class?

Answer: D – Herbology

The words stretched on and on – line after line, question after question – onward to infinity. Or just over four hundred pages.

Take your pick.

A/N: This story is mostly true. The situation written above never really happened. However, I really have been writing the Quiz since I was fifteen years old . . . and it really does have a question for every page of text in the books. Really. I'll send it to you if you don't believe me.

I am also currently working on the Answer Key although, in retrospect, I probably should have done that along with the Quiz. Now I have to go back and get the answer for every question along with fixing my spelling/grammar mistakes. There will also be bonus sections for it – Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Quidditch Through the Ages, and The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

It is actually a bit of a dream of mine to try and get it published someday.

The aforementioned Derrick has also expressed an interest in taking the Quiz once it's done and never ceases to bug me about it. :) So, after putting together bits and pieces of true stuff with situations that never exactly happened, I cobbled together this story. I hope you enjoyed it!

A/N: If you are interested in having your own story written (even if it's not true, you can tell me something you'd like to do), please leave it in a review or PM me.

And, as always please review!

~Lizzy Lovegood