E/N: So, here we are again with another mindless, pointless, but vaguely witty fic from the Elfster. I have however gone a little different on you all, changing both subject and style. Harry Potter self-insertion. Yeah, I know it's probably been done, like, a million times before, but I wanted to write it, purely for amusement's sake. As far as the title is concerned, the HP is, obviously, for Harry Potter and the Sauce is for all the suggestiveness, smuttiness and swearing that come naturally to my writing. (And for anyone that doesn't know, HP Sauce is a company that makes sauces like tomato ketchup, barbecue sauce, brown sauce etc. I'm not entirely sure how world-spread HP Sauce is! So it's meant to be a kind of pun. It probably died miserably though.)

Anyway, you got a problem with what or the way I write? I don't care. Tell someone's who's bothered. My opinion on flamers is in my bio, if you want to go and look at that. For anyone that does like the way and what I write though, please leave me some lovely reviews to brighten up my otherwise dull days. I've got bugger all to do between the time I finish exams and go to see Tafi.

Constructive criticism is gratefully accepted also. Thank you muchly. Enjoy!

Oh yes, and if you have any questions about anything, don't hesitate to ask! Ciao!

Ok, just one more thing now, there will be sequels if anyone is interested, so you have been warned. :D

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Chapter 1 - Operation GULB

"I'm sorry, Loz, it's going. End of."

"Why though?!?!?!"

"It's bad for your back. No wonder you're not sleeping properly, at the moment. As I said, it's going." Loz's mother, Jayne, (or 'Mutti', as Loz called her) turned her back on her daughter and continued loading up the dishwasher.

"But I don't want a new bed! I love my bed!!"

"It's too old. You've had it since you were two! 14 years! That's far too long. Now, I've made my mind up, there's no point in whining at me. What I want you to do is move your bed, get all the crap out from underneath it and get the current bed ready for dismantling. You're new bed is being delivered around about 3 o'clock this afternoon."

"TODAY?! You mean I don't even get one last night with it?!"

"Lauren, now please."

"You want me to actually go under that bed? See what's under there? Are you mental?! It's scary under there! Who knows what I'll find?! I think there's a family of refugees living under there. Not to mention a couple of spare dimensions."

"That would not surprise me in the least."

"Well, I'd better call in reinforcements."

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"Right, girls. This is Operation GULB. I seriously need your help." Loz had rung her three best friends, Moj, Beck and Clare, and was currently briefing them on their dangerous mission.

"GULB?" Moj repeated.

"Going Under Loz's Bed. I'm getting a new one this afternoon. Mutti wants me to tidy up and stuff."

"But Loz, you can't get rid of your bed! It's your bed! It can't go!" Beck said.

"I know. It brings tears to the eyes, doesn't it?"

"Er, hello! Is anyone else thinking about the fact that we have to tackle what's under there?!" Clare questioned, interrupting the sad moment. "Loz, you haven't looked under that bed for, literally, years! Anything could be under there!"

"Try telling Mutti that. Anyway, that's why you're all here. I need you to help me."

"Do we have to?" Beck asked.

"What's in it for us?" Moj demanded, ever the gold-digger.

"Dearest Mojjen. I shall suffer to give you an equal share of the swag."

"I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request… means no!"

"An equal share of the swag AND an Orli Bloom poster. Do we have an accord?"

"Savvy!" They hook hands and laughed. The other two rolled their eyes and waited to be included again. They were not quite so caught up as their friends in the piratey madness the summer of 2003 had brought.

"Well then…" Beck began nervously. "Are we ready?"

Moving a bed from one side of the room to the other and then tidying up what was underneath might sound like an easy task. But these four brave lasses knew the dangers of the job to be done. This was no ordinary bed. It was Loz's pride and joy (except for her Orlando Bloom shrine) and hadn't been moved for nearly eight years. Many a possession had been lost to the fearsome, dark depths of that inch gap between the floor and the bed's base. Nobody dared venture under the bed, or to pull it away from the wall, afraid of what they might reveal.

"1… 2… 3… push!" They pulled the heavy bed away from the wall.

"Oh… my… God!" said Loz. "That. Is. Disgusting." The navy-blue carpet was grey from all the dust that had collected under the bed. Many, many items of clothing, make-up, games, cutlery, jewellery, coursework, CD's etc. were retrieved. Teddies and photos were squashed and crumpled…

"Hey, my mascara from Year 7!" said Beck.

"My Moulin Rouge CD!" said Moj.

"My shoes!" said Clare.

"My God! I didn't think it'd be this bad!" said Loz. "It's worse than… what is that?"

"What's what?" Moj inquired.

"That." Loz stepped forward a little and pointed at the corner of the room formerly covered by the bed. It was a large, dark splodge. Black, so deep it seemed almost as if it weren't solid.

"You must have spilt something when you were in bed one night," said Clare.

"1) It would smell. 2) What do I drink that's black, Clare?"

"Good point." Beck grabbed a pen from Loz's desk and poked the blackness, to see how thick or runny or solid this weird thing was.

"WHAT THE HELL?!?!" She poked the skirting board and the pen went straight through, disappearing from sight as though it were submerged in thick goo.

"Cool! Let me try!" Moj said. She immersed her whole right arm into the nothingness, it disappearing from view as the pen had. Becky shrieked.

"That's not right! Moj, stop it! What does it feel like?"

"I can't feel anything. It's just like waving my arm about in mid air."

"Throw something in and see what happens," Loz suggested. Clare threw an orange at the black blotch. It carried on going as though there were naught but air to stop it, not making a sound or losing speed as it passed through the black.

"I didn't mean my orange, you bitch, I was going to eat that!"

"You should be more specific."

"Someone stick their head in, see if you can see anything," Moj said.

"NO!" exclaimed Clare. "Anything could happen!"

"I'll do it," Loz volunteered.

"Loz, don't!"

"Oh, be quiet. Nothing's going to happen. Mojjy's arm's fine, isn't it?" She knelt down and leant towards the black… thing. "I actually don't know if I want to do this now."

"Of course you do," Beck said, and pushed her best friend. Not only her head went through, but her whole body. Beck shrieked again.

"OH FUCK! WHAT DID I DO?!?!?!

"Loz! Loz, are you there?! Loz?! ANSWER, DAMMIT!!" Moj yelled.

"What if she's dead?" said Clare quietly.

"Oh, thanks for the optimism, Clare!"

"I'm being realistic. We don't know what that is or what it does."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Moj jumped on the black patch and went straight through the floor. Clare's eyes widened horrifically.

"Ooh, that looks fun!" announced Beck, and she followed Moj's lead.

"Oh crap!" Clare moaned to herself, panicking majorly. "Oh buggering hell! What do I do now?! I can't leave them! But I should get Jayne. But then we might get in trouble… oh bugger it!" She grabbed a pen and quickly scrawled a note to Loz's mom, then joined her friends in falling through the black mystery, petrified for her life and wondering what the heck was about to happen to her…