Protectors of Plot Continuum~The HP series

We are the few, the proud, the purists, the PPC.

Magnolia Grey could not believe she was voluntarily taking part in this.   Somehow, although she had filled out the application, and read the two hundred pound (yes, she had weighed it) guidebook, the whole thing had never seemed real.  Until, that is, she was forced to watch her long-time, and usually sane friend and partner, Myfanwy, bounce down the hall pointing at things.

"And…Mag gets to assassinate Mary Sues!  Heaven help us all…oh my gosh, it's the mini-balrog training room!!! And the sign of the cactus!  We get badges like that, Mag!!! And these must be HQs!!! What number do we have!!!?"  The lack of variety in her punctuation was starting to wear at Mag's nerves.

"42." She responded, glancing at the sheet given them by…a flower?  No, it had just been on the desk, that's all.  The flower had only looked like it was talking.

"And can you BELIEVE we met the Sunflower Official!!!  Maybe Jay and Acacia are here!!!"  Then again, maybe the flower had been talking.  The thought was deeply disturbing for some reason.

She glanced up from her musings to see Myfanwy opening random doors and peering inside.  A few seconds later, Myfanwy screeched and ran inside a room, only to be catapulted out before five seconds had passed.  She picked herself up, pointedly ignoring Mag's confused face. 

"Acy was in a bad mood," she explained, apparently sure this made the whole thing clear.

"Ah."  Mag had no more words for this…the form had said they weren't liable for any mental…problems this job caused.  She had thought it was a joke.

"Why don't we…go in here?" Mag suggested, restraining Myfanwy, and steering her inside.  The number over the door she approached read 42 in a slightly ominous fashion.  Insomuch as a plastic number over a door can appear ominous, that is.

The room was boring.  There were no other words for it.  It contained four walls, a ceiling, and a floor, all of which was hard and white.  A computer adorned the far wall.  A computer with a LOT of buttons, none of which were labeled.  So that's what the five page diagram had tried to tell her.  There were several shelves by the computer, including two duffels, marked "canonical gear, do not change!" and several copies of the Harry Potter books, marked "Reference".  The sight of the bland room seemed to calm Myf down a bit, as she dropped her backpack and went to the computer.  Mag looked around the room suspiciously and pulled down one of the duffels.  She unzipped it, and grinned…oh yes. This was going to be FUN.

Five hours later…

"So, you see, we get to pretend that we're students at Hogwarts, extras like, so we don't disturb the canon. The actual characters can't see us, so we can really annoy miss Sue…" 

"Looky!  A WAND.  We get wands!!!"

"Canonically accurate weapons."

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!

"We get to kill one!!! Yeah!!!"  Yes, Mag decided, the exclamation points have to go.

All of a sudden…WHAMMY!  The realization of what she had gotten herself into hit Mag like, like a hard object going faster than was normally acceptable.  All of a sudden, Mag erupted. 

"WAHOOOO!  How can we torture 'em?  Knives? Fire?  Cruciatus?"

"No, Mag," Myfanwy had calmed down considerably in the knowledge that she now had a job to do, " We have a mission.  We will not stop for torture.  We get, we kill, we get out.  We are the few, the proud, the purists, the PPC.  So what's this one look like?"

"Sh-she's got red hair and purple eyes, simply GORGEOUS.  Snape's daughter (who's the mom, I wonder?)"  Mag responded, gazing intently at the Words running across the screen and turning an interesting shade of green.

"Mental eraser, PLEASE"

"Her name is Veronica, but Hermione knows her from camp and calls her 'Ronzi' and she's got a special Mary-Sue vocalist power.  It's horrible!  Make it stop, PLEASE!"  With that, Mag burst into tears. 

Myfanwy patted her distraught friend on the back, and leaned over to see the Words. 

"What the!!  She sings Britney Spears-"

Mag, upon hearing this, let out a long mournful wail. 

"and LeAnn Rimes before she gets chased by…a pink three headed monster?"  Myfanwy stopped and stared up at the ceiling.  "Alas! Alas for what once was beautiful!" She whispered, before standing, pulling Mag to her feet, and grabbing a duffel bag.  Her eyes hardened.  "Lets hunt some Sue."

That said, Mag stopped crying, and began tapping at the buttons on the control panel, a manic glint in her eyes.  "Random Slytherin students sound all right?"

"Oh, yes." Myf ceased stuffing random things into the duffel and grabbed one of the two sleek wooden wands off the counter, throwing one in Mag's general direction and sighing when it bounced off Mag's head.

Much to Myf's displeasure, Mag immediately began experimenting with her wand, resulting in numerous scorch marks on the ceiling. 

"I think you gave me the broken one."

"Maybe it just doesn't work until we get to Hogwarts." With a glance at Mag's empty duffel bag, Myf added, "Now let's get going." 

Several shouting matches later, Mag was holding a properly equipped duffel bag, and Myf was placing the finishing button pushes on the portal to Hogwarts. 

"Shiny…" Mag muttered, as the portal appeared in an iridescent flicker.

Myf threw her duffel over her shoulder, picked up her wand and stepped through the portal, followed closely by Mag.

Within seconds, the two were unceremoniously dumped right in the middle of Kings Cross station, robes flying.  Mag, after removing her duffel from its current position atop her stomach, bounced to her feet.  Myf followed, albeit more slowly.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Myf muttered, purely for the sake of cliché, looking in awe at her black Hogwart's robes.

"We're not in Kansas anymore!!! Woo-hoo!!"  Mag, who didn't understand cliché, and had consumed all together too many cappuccinos that afternoon chimed (or rather, bellowed) in.

Myf sighed.  Sometimes you just had to remind Mag of the identity of the rather hard wall.  However, this wall wasn't very hard…Mag stumbled through the barrier, duffel coming to rest on her toes, as Myf followed calmly.

Her red hair reached the middle of her waist in loose waves and her purple eyes sparkled as she held her hand out to Ron. She spoke, her accent was definately American.

"I'm Veronica"

"Ron, Ron Weasley." He replied stuttering. She smiled at him

"Your cute" She said as he stared at her.

"She has a cute?  Where?"  Myf whispered from where the two assassins sat in the back of…Well, they weren't exactly sure where they were, but it was somewhere close to Hogwarts, and sometime after the train had arrived, watching the sickeningly sweet meeting of the trio and the Sue.

Harry held out his hand to her

"Harry Potter."

"A complete sentence! Wow," Mag muttered sarcastically.


Just as her hand touched him, he felt a scroching pain in his forehead, where his scar was located. He simply brushed it off and then a piercing shriek came from Veronica

"Any votes for exactly what a 'scroching pain' is?"

"Absolutely none."

"Any ideas where all the periods went?"

"Maybe they don't exist in this universe."

"Mione???"

"Ronzi!"

"Oh. God."  Mag pretended to puke.  "Can we start torturing her now?  Before she starts singing Britney Spears?"

"We have to wait 'til she's actually sorted into Gryffindor! It's in the handbook!"  
"You mean you actually read that monstrosity?"  Myf looked highly affronted. 

"Yes," she said, in as haughty a whisper as she could muster, "you mean you didn't?"

Mag looked guiltily at the ground.  Myf groaned.

"We're in for it now."

*****

It was Mcgonagall that spoke next

"Students, we have an announcement. This is usually not allowed but special circumstances have been taken into account. We have a transfer student from the Salem Witch and Wizadry Academy in America."

The doors to the Hall opened and Veronica followed closely by Snape entered. She made her way up to the front of the room and stood next to Mcgonagall as the teacher continued.

"Please Welcome Veronica Snape."

"I suppose no one saw fit to inform McGonagall of capitalization rules," Myf muttered.  She and Mag had seated themselves at the very end of the Slytherin table to watch the all-important Sorting.  Mag seemed to be having some type of fit, and Myf more than once had to push the end of her wand away from the Sue.

"Not 'til she's Sorted," Myf hissed for the thirteenth time as she yanked Mag's wand away.

"But, she's annoying!"  Mag pouted.  "And Snape just claimed her as his daughter!"

"I know," Myf whispered back, obviously in great pain.  "Just wait."

But all fell to silence as Veronica sat down on the stool that had until that moment been occupied by first years. It seemed the entire hall was holding their breath to find out which house she would be put into. Slytherien didn't look too worried, after all, Snape was thier head of House. Surely his daughter would be placed there as well. THe three remaining house wondered what Snape would do if his daughter might possibly be sorted to thier house. The sorting hat was placed on Veronica's head. All waited the outcome. HArry remembered his own sorting 5 years earlier. Not Slytherien, Not Slytherien he had begged the hat. When that familiar litany echoed in his ears he thought he was just reliving his own sorting. But when the voice changed from his own to that of Veronica's...Harry began to get worried.

"What?" 

"I'm confused."

"As was the author, I'm sure…Mag, put the wand DOWN."

"Not Slytherien, Anything but Slytherien! Veronica pleaded with the hat. Harry's curiosity was piqued. Why wouldn't Veronica want to be in Slytherien? he thought

"Where's Slytherien?" 

"Obviously not the same place as Slytherin…or Slytheriren for that matter.  Wand.  Down.  Now."

"The periods are still missing…"

"Not Slytheriren eh?" the hat answered "Your father did well in Slytherien. So would you. It would train you well."

"It did train my father, look where he is today. Hated." she replied

Suddenly the hat bellowed its decision:

"Gryffindor!!!!"

"Raise hands all who're surprised."

"Can we kill her now."

"Wait 'til we can get her alone."

THe Gryffindor table mad hasty introduction to the newest member. After while Dumbledore rose to address the students once more.

"Tonight following this banquet there will be a dance to honor Miss Snape's arrival. Fifth years only. Dress robes please. You are all dismissed."

"Since when does he hold dances in honor of new students?"

"Because she's got special Mary-Sue powers, of course.  Maggy, give me the bloody wand!"  Myf grabbed the errant wand away from her friend, who sulked, but didn't leap over the table as Myf had feared.

The two girls eventually made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room, just in time to watch Harry and Ron finish dressing, and listen in on their oh, so interesting conversation.

"So what'd you think of her?" Ron asked

"Veronica?" Harry replied

"No, Angelina Bell." Ron said "Of course I meant Veronica. She is um quite attractive."

"Who the heck is Angelina Bell?"  Mag asked, stuffing her telltale Slytherin tie inside her robes.  They couldn't be seen by the canon characters, of course, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"Beats me," Myf snorted, digging in her ever-present duffel for her new and shiny Character Analysis Device.  Finally pulling it out, she pointed it directly at Harry and Ron.  There was a soft *blip*: apparently Makes-Things had finally managed to correct the design…or maybe he had simply given Acacia the faulty one…in any case, the results were far more startling than any loud beep could have been.

Ron Weasley:  Canon Character, OOC: 79% CHARACTER RUPTURE!!!!

Harry Potter: Canon Character, OOC: 68% CHARACTER RUPTURE!!!!

"We've got character ruptures over here," Myf said, showing Mag the device.  Mag shook her head and grabbed for the wand, muttering about devices that employed more punctuation marks than strictly necessary.  Myf relinquished the wand.

They followed the sickening…quartet down to the Great Hall, which was apparently packed to the gills with nonexistent fifth years.  The two assassins moved off to a corner, to watch the Sue, who stared back at them.  Mag thumbed her nose at the girl, who whispered something to Ron.  Ron, eyes completely glazed over, looked at the corner and shook his head.  The Sue looked bewildered, but snapped back to being 'queen transfer student' when Dumbledore, who looked as if he were in great pain, stood up.

"Students, In Miss Snape's honor we have held this ball, so we felt it nessacery to play music that fit her tastes. She is also an accomplished singer, so Miss Snape if you will..."

His voice trailed off into a pained silence, and he appeared to be fighting the urge to gag.

"He's fighting it, anyway," Mag hissed at Myf, who nodded.  Dumbledore was no fool.

Their conversation was interrupted when the Sue, positively oozing charisma, swept up on the stage and launched into…Britney Spears.  Mag proceeded to revisit her lunch, while Myf simply stood, as slack-jawed as the teachers.  Just as the Sue was dragging an impossibly out of character Hermione up on the stage to sing, Myf stepped forward, wand raised.  Mag stood behind her, her wand pointed directly at Veronica Valentina Voldemort.  Veronica paled. 

"Who are you?"

"We are the Protectors of Plot Continuum, dear Veronica," Mag sneered.

"Huh?"  Apparently Veronica was…unfamiliar with the PPC.

"You want to charge her?"  Mag looked at Myf.

"Sure," Myf responded, pulling a sheet from her duffel, "Veronica Valentina Voldemort,  besides having a ridiculous name, you are hereby charged with being Snape's daughter, and Voldemort's…some relation to Voldemort; being a Mary Sue, with looks stolen directly from the Tortallan Canon; defiling these ancient stones with Britney Spears;  causing the character ruptures of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley…heck, everyone in this room, and completely neglecting all rules of punctuation and capitalization.  For this, you must die."

Mag raised her wand, pointing it directly at Veronica's head.  Myf shot a stunning spell in Ron's direction, to prevent any attempted 'heroic rescues'.

"Any last words?  Never mind, you don't get any.  Mag, have at it."

Mag's face hardened.  Holding her wand steady, she yelled in a commanding voice: "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of clear, green light shot toward Veronica; she gasped, Ron screamed (and a surprisingly high-pitched scream at that, Myf noticed.)…the light hit.  Veronica collapsed to the ground, and the entire world shook as the canon snapped back into place. 

Mag smiled.  Myf smirked.  All the characters looked dazed, and suddenly Ron gave a shout, and nearly fainted.  Hermione looked as though she were going to be sick, and Myf could see her muttering 'Ronzi' with complete contempt.  Harry moved to support both of them, muttering what sounded suspiciously like the British equivalent of certain four letter words.  Snape actually turned green before rushing out the room, and Dumbledore, for just a second, displayed the hard anger he'd shown during the end of the third task before calming enough to order all students back to their respective houses.

Before they could leave, however, Myf stepped forward holding up what appeared to be a small silver pen.  As she and Mag covered their eyes, a bright light flashed, and all the student's faces slackened. 

"You have never heard of Veronica…You have just arrived here, seen the Sorting, and eaten.  You are now going to bed," Mag said, slightly smugly.  She turned to Myf. 

"What do we do about Snape?"

"Well…I never liked the guy anyway…"

Both assassins cackled with the appropriate amount of evilness, and Mag began tapping random buttons on the portal device.

"Shall we go home now?"

"Most certainly.  I could use a nap.  Are you sure those are the right buttons?"

The return trip was completed eventually, after several details into various unfamiliar canons.  When the portal final dumped them, rather ill-temperedly for a portal, if Mag was any judge, back into their familiar and still boring room.  This time the blank whiteness had a calming effect and Myf immediately curled up in a corner with Chamber of Secrets while Mag snatched Prisoner of Azkaban.  For a moment, both girls appeared calm and contented, drinking in the comforting Words of a canon set to rights. 

But the narrative laws of comedy had other ideas….

Myf:  Mag and I would like to thank Jay and Acacia (and Harpwire!) profusely enough to border on ridiculous for allowing us to steal their ideas and their little world of PPC headquarters!!!  THANK YOU!  Apologies go out to Sailor Miaka, who has unwittingly provided us with this little gem of a Mary-Sue that is Ronzi.  Sorry, but it had to be done.  To those of you who review, we are forever grateful, and for those of you who alert us to any other Mary-Sues, thank you for doing your civic duty!  And now a few words from your resident flake (that's you, Mag):

Mag:  Ahem.  Myf, stop talking about yourself.  We all know that you're mad because you're the flake.  *note to everybody*:  If you want to get back at Myf, push her off a chair.  Let's see… Again, thanks to Jay, Acacia, and Harpwire (aka Wunderlust) for letting us do this delightfully fun version of PPC.  Also, I am sorry, Sailor Miaka, but you created this Sue, so we did what we must.  To anybody who reviews, thank you so much!  We appreciate it! 

Mrs. Rowling we bow before you and your creations, stealing not your profit, and merely borrowing your ideas. Sailor Miaka has an unfortunate claim on Ronzi, if we were her we'd give her back. PPC and all subsequent ideas are courtesy of Harpwire/Wunderlust.  Thank You!!!

And now, before the author's notes threaten to overtake the story (or confuse anyone towards further insanity)  we shall go, with the reminder that the little purple button below is very lonely…