The Fourth Wall

It was the summer break was a nice time to relax and catch up with family. Hermione was home, and her parents were able to take some time off from their practice to catch-up with the family. In one of the Grangers' house's many suites was a teenage boy, enjoying the halcyon days of his final break.

Hey wait a second! His inner voice screamed.

"Stop that!" he roared.

He had graduated from Eton College with and was offered a Rhodes Scolarship to Oxford.

"Hey wait a second… am I… am I in fanfic? Oh dear god no! Not again!" he cried.

A knock came from the door.

"Wade, is everything okay in there?" a woman asked. She had maternal warmth, and a soft aristocratic accent.

"I'm okay! Give me a moment!"

He waited for the footfalls to fade away down the hall, before throwing off the covers. Looking down, he saw a young form, toned and leaned but lacking the muscle mass that he was used to seeing.

"Oh shit! Not cool author! Not. Fucking. Cool!"

Rushing into the bathroom, he looked into the mirror and found a different face looking back at him. It wasn't deformed with cancerous tissue scars, but instead, he had even features, fair skill and neatly cut brown hair.

"Could be worse..." he shrugged.

Now where am I? Wade wondered.

He returned to his bedroom, picked a red shirt off the dresser, slipped it on and entered his study.

"Nice house," he whistled. "Wait… is that a box monitor? Author! What the hell?"

An annoyed frown crossed Wade's features as he examined the Dell monitor. Turning to his left, he looked at the calendar on his table.

"Oh great… the nineties," he groaned. "Fuck you author! You could've put me in one of your Halo or Mass Effect stories – uh – before you turned them into Clancy stories."

"Wade, who are you talking to?" the door wrenched open without warning.

"Ahh! Don't you knock?" the teenager hissed. I'm not a teenager!

A girl in her mid-teens entered. It was Hermione.

Woah… I know it's not legal now. But when she's legal. I will totally hotbox.

Ahh! Deadpool, what the hell man? Incest and statutory rape is not on!

Ah-ha! Got you to break objective third person! Hehehee. Fourth Wall's a bitch, ain't it? Wait… you made her my sister? Why not love interest?

"Wade?" Hermione waved. "Earth to Wade!"

"Yes?"

"Breakfast is ready," she repeated, placing both hands on her pronounced hips.

"I'll be down in a sec," Wade answered, in a slightly forced aristocratic English accent.

Hey! I can do accents perfectly! He hissed inwardly in a strong broad Australian accent. Strewth mate. Could ya get the sheila to go? We need to talk, mate. Corr blimey.

Fine… I'll get her to leave. But it's not like I'm a god, I can't bail you out all the time.

Sure you can! You put me in a Harry Potter fanfiction – a crime of horrific proportions you bastard.

My parents love me!

Suurrreeeeeee. Now get the girl to leave!

"Hermione!" her mother called. "Hedwig's here!"

"Coming!" she said happily, and shot out of the room, forgetting to close the door to the study.

Wade walked up and closed the door before heading back into his bedroom.

"Okay author, what the hell man?"

I have a name.

"Fine! Andrithir!" he exaggerated. "Stop narrating everything!"

Readers can't tell how you're saying things. And no… I'm not writing you as if you're an elcor.

"Annoyed," he said monotonously. "I would like to inform you that I am not happy with the setting. Tentatively: I wish a different setting. Hopefully and cunningly: If it must be the Harry Potter fandom, can I at least be Hermione's love interest?"

No.

"Ah fuck you too! You're a harmony person. God friggin dammit. Just accept that Hermione ends up with Ron… bastard."

Admit it. You're a harmony person too.

"Fine. I am. Now… can I be Harry?"

No.

"Why not?"

You'll be too powerful.

"Bitch! Have you not read some of the fanfics here? Harry's a fucking god! Like… a GOD! Hell, in some, he's even got THE GOD's backing."

You'll still be too OP.

"Uuuurgh, that's disgusting!" Wade groaned, throwing up his hands. Plopping himself on the comfy mattress, he sighed.

"I wonder how confused the readers are right about now."

What? You mean the setting?

"No! The formatting," the teenager explained. "Dude… stop it. I'm not a teenager."

And you're too old to be saying "dude."

"I do what I want. But sheeeit, the formatting."

What's wrong with my formatting?

"Well, your prose and your dialogue aren't distinguished," Wade explained.

I think my readers are smart enough to differentiate.

"No they're not. Some of them don't understand artistic license."

Don't insult them.

"What? Afraid they'll flame you?" Wade taunted. "And reformatting your dialogue."

What dialogue? I just keep it third person until you came running along, breaking the fourth wall and shit.

"Heheh, see that Tom, Kitty? I got Andrithir to swear… hehehe," Wade clapped. "I have other names aside from Wade you know? You can call me Winston, Wilson – no wait, I'm a Granger… bastard. Uh let's see, there's also, Merc with a Mouth."

You're not a merc… not yet. And you're a Granger, deal with it!

"BOLD YOUR DIALOGUE!" Wade growled.

Fine. Happy now?

"Yeth," Wade grinned. "Alright, Andrithir, I demand my impressive physique."

*Poof – Plot device*

There.

Wade looked down at his knew body. Flexing the huge muscles and bulging veins.

"Aww, c'mon author! What the hell! I want my physique, not 'roids bodybuilder!"

Hey, have you seen some of those comics?

"Yes! And have you read some of those fics about me on Archives of Our Own?"

No.

A smirk drifted across Wade's rugged features.

"Awww, that's sweet of you – suck up. Read those stories."

I really don't want to now. Not after that Mass Effect one.

"What Mass Effect one?"

I thought it was a different take on Lair of the Shadow Broker.

Wade breathed in sharply. "That one. That one's just nasty… but mine are worse."

Didn't know you have fangirls… or fanguys… or fan-others.

"You're just jealous that you don't have a girlfriend."

Hey, I have plenty of uni friends who are girls.

"And they happen to be dating your guy friends. You could be an excellent match maker. Ever thought of starting a dating service?"

What? Pimping? No way. I worked hard to get where I am.

"Suuuure. And now you're having a conversation with me."

Shut up. I make lots of friends at uni.

"I know. I see your facebook profile. Those guuurls are fffiiiiiiine! Dayum."

Wade… stop it. You're starting to sound like Tobes.

"You ever see the size of them b…"

Wade! Can we get on with the story?

"Once you tell me why you aren't hotboxing those girls."

Because they're my friends. And they already have boyfriends, or they aren't interested in me.

"I think you have a lot going for you."

Like what?

Wade paused. Drumming his fingers on his chin. "Rich parents."

Salkduifhpawiehf

"Woah, you okay there?"

Just face desked… on my keyboard. No, I don't want to date shallow girls.

"Well you aren't. You sir, are in the science faculty. No shallow girls there. They're all smart. Guys these days like smart women."

Wade... can we please get on with the story?

"Oh alright."

And… you can't talk to me in the future… at least not this frequently.

"What? This is kinda like praying, only with better response time?"

*Sigh*

"Don't get me wrong, love your prose and all, but it's way nicer to talk to you."

Wade…

"Hey, if I do this Harry Potter story. Is this going to be Clancyfied and Lundumised?"

No.

"Yes. No offence but Lost Legacy is taking forever because of that. And can I be Harry?"

No. You are Hermione's brother. Accept it. Or I'll make you her sister.

"You wouldn't dare giving me a sex change!"

I'll zip your mouth up!

"Your mother zips my mouth up!" Wade jeered.

MY MOTHER IS A SAINT!

"Hahahahah, you said 'saint'. But seriously though… is this going to be Clancyfied or Lundumised? The only reason why some people hate your Lost Legacy is because you made it too spy-thrillery."

Have you seen some of those curb stomp stories?

"Yes," Wade nodded. "And guess what? With me here? This story is all about… moi. That's right, you tried to remove Gary-Stus… but you have me!"

I don't think the internet has rigorously defined Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus enough.

"Doesn't matter; because I'm gonna tear shit up! So… where's my gear?"

Check your closet. Can I go now? Because technically, you only break the fourth wall, you're not supposed to talk to the writer.

"Andrithir, plex… have you played my games? I do what I want!" Wade proclaimed.

Walking to his closet, he pulled the doors opened, and parted the suits on the hangers. Pushing through the timber backboard, he entered a hidden room. An armoury.

"Oooh sweet. You've even put in weapons that don't exist yet. Like the Heckler and Koch Four-One-Six and the Four-One-Seven. Thanks Andrithir."

He ran his hand along the composite ceramic plating of the weapons before walking to his suit. It retained his trade mark red and black livery, but being slightly thicker with added plates and liquid armour.

"I dunno, Andrithir. Liquid armour, top of the line guns. You spoil me."

Wade looked around the room and arched an eyebrow,

"Andrithir… you still there? I know you are. Andri… oh Andri!"

C'mon Wade! It doesn't work if you keep calling me out in present time. My plan was for me to set the ground work, and then let you go running around in the Potter universe. Explore! Breaking fourth wall doesn't work if you're just going to talk to me.

"Hi Frank! There. I said hello to one of your readers."

I don't think Frank's a popular name in my demographic.

"What about your lab partner?"

I don't think he reads my stories.

"Well, I can still talk to you can I?"

You talking to me, and we end up filling pages with dialogue no one wants to trawl through. I'll make you a deal. Smooth sailing, plot armour and beautiful women, I'll give you that, you go off exploring the Harry Potter verse, and don't call me unless you need help.

"Deal."

Placing the rifles back on the rack. Wade walked up to the display that held his two swords.

"Katanas huh? Good ole classics."

That's a cliché, the chosen sword of choice being the Katana for non-Asian wielders.

"Thought you said you weren't going to interrupt anymore."

I just thought I should point out that a few tropes are violated with your character creation.

"So… is Harry going to be godly in this?"

Maybe… I don't know. I actually don't know how were going to have a climax in this story.

"Oh… I know how. Wink."

Dammit Wade.

"You were thinking it."

Okay… you know what? I'm going to leave. Promise me you won't try to bed Hermione.

"AHH! The fuck's wrong with you? She's my sister."

There we go. Someone's on board.

"I'm going to scare the living shit out of Harry, hehehe. So do I get to be a wizard?"

No. We've been over this.

"Well, how am I going to get to go to Hogwarts? I mean, I know you've made me older, but why not old enough to be a teacher?"

No, you're going to Oxford.

"Why? Because you didn't get a Rhodes Scholarship? Did that prick Jordan hit a nerve?"

Shut up Wade! Have you seen how many pages we've spent talking? This doesn't work!

"Wade?" Hermione called. "Breakfast is getting cold."

"You win this time, Andrithir," Winston murmured. "But we'll meet again. And I'm going to go find those Hocruxes and kick Voldemorts ass… because plot armour!"

"Wade?" Hermione groaned. "Who are you talking to?"

The young brunette rounded the corner into Wade's bedroom, just as he shut the closet.

"I was on my cell."

Hermione arched her eyebrow.

"You have a cell?"

Balls... this isn't the twenty first century. Andrithir you bastard. You guys know that feeling right? Experiencing superior tech, then your access to it is cut off.

"Borrowed it," Wade lied.

"Right," Hermione said, clearly not buying it. "Well, there's pumpkin juice if you want it."

Okay seriously… what's this whole obsession with pumpkin juice? Like… what the hell people? Have any of you guys had it? How does pumpkin juice taste good? Is it because Rowling said it did? That's the problem with some of you Romione or whatever the hell it is, supporters. Just because Rowling said that Harry and Hermione have sibling like relationship, doesn't rule them out as a couple.

Wade… enough ranting.

Just doing it on your behalf.

"Wade?" Hermione called again. "You're zoning out a lot these days."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Tired."

Hermione turned around and left the room, leaving Winston alone with his thoughts.

"Ballz," he groaned. "I'm in a universe with more plot holes than Swiss cheese. Can I please be a wizard? It'll make things so much easier!"

No! You already have super healing and super strength.

"Please!"

Fine, have a Piece of Eden.

*Poof*

"Awww, sweet!" Wade grinned, cradling the golden ball with glowing ember patterns.

Psyche!

*Poof*

"Oh c'mon on. How am I supposed to take on the Death Eaters?"

Wrath of modern fireams and your unstable mind… duh.

"Ah, fuck me. Okay, for those readers who are still lost or who have clicked to another story, let me introduce myself," Wade said, clearing his throat. "I go through fourth walls like wrecking balls, enjoy long walks on the beach, drawing, and I'm a clairvoyant. We're in for some fun times! Unless if that asshole Andrithir comes in wanting to be all politically correct. And fuck you politically correct brigade. I'm Deadpool, pleased to make your acquaintance."

XXxxXX

A/N: So, what did you all think of that?

W: Why post this story now?

Wade, shut up.

W: Seriously? Have you even proofed this? There are your other projects too to worry about!

The fans can wait… I think they're smart enough to tell the difference.

W: Please, my awesomeness blinds all!

Then why can I still see?

W: Because I am the light.

Right. Well, I'm uploading this.

W: There are still grammatical errors in there Mister Four-Unit Engarish.

Wade… what did I say?

W: This is author notes, I do what I want.

And where has that gotten you?

W: A damn awesome life!

[Sigh] Do the send-off…

W: Okay! Too all of Andrithir's loyal – pfft, loyal – fans, please leave a review and tell him how much he sucks, and how awesome I am for agreeing to be in a Harry Potter fanfiction. Flood me with reviews. And also convince him to put me in Lost Legacy. Or at least, have him write a Mass Effect story with me in it. Actually, that sounds like a better idea. Do that last one.

Hehe, Deadpool, slicin' turians at Shanxi. Hell yeah… oh and I call dibs on that idea. SO HA! My idea now!