Disclaimer: Sadly, we don't own Harry Potter, unless you count merchandise. We do however own Mel, Skye We wish we did own Harry Potter but that's what fanfiction is for.
Prologue: Parallel Universes
"I can't believe it's been over a year since Goblet Of Fire came out in the cinemas," Melinda Bowtell sighed. "And to think, we've only got a few more days on our Goblet Of Fire 2006 calendars left."
"Ah well," Skye Sheridan shrugged. "I have one with kittens on it to hang in my locker next year. It's all good. And then we can get 2008 Order Of The Phoenix calendars."
Mel sighed. "Poor Vic. She will carry out that water-gun threat of hers if we're not careful."
"We should definitely have saved up for tickets to Nickelback while they were here," Skye said wistfully. "Then we could relive the concert while she was in hearing distance."
"We could always debate over whether Alex Rider will ever get it on with Sabina Pleasure," Mel pointed out.
Skye shuddered. "Don't go there. That's like Harry/Hermione. Totally wrong."
"Yes, Miss HMS Celebrity," Mel muttered.
Skye acted as though she had not heard her friend. "Besides, she went to live in America, remember? You know, if we went to a public school, we'd be so excited to finally be on holidays, but we've already been on holidays for two weeks. I guess that's why there was such a crowd at the cinemas."
The room suddenly went dark.
"Oh, great, a power failure," Mel complained.
"Are you sure?" Skye queried. "If it was a power failure, we could see the outline of the furniture. Ouch!"
It was as though the two girls had been sucked into a vacuum. Eventually, the squashed feeling went away and they found themselves in a small stone room lit with torches.
"Where are we?" Mel asked.
"Dunno, but we'd better get out before my claustrophobia sets in and I faint," Skye replied worriedly. They exited by the large wooden door, and found themselves in a corridor outside a tapestry of trolls in tutus in which stood three people who looked extraordinarily like the Golden Trio. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say we somehow managed to make our way onto the set of the fifth movie."
Harry, Ron and Hermione sat silent and unmoving on the sofa in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Their trunks were packed and waiting in the Entrance Hall, but not one of them had the heart to leave the room right then. At least, not until Hermione, after thinking extensively about Dumbledore, had a brain wave. "Ron, what did you tell me about what Dumbledore said in second year, in Hagrid's cabin? 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it'?"
Harry and Ron nodded.
Hermione stood up. "Come on. We're going to ask for help." She walked briskly to the portrait hole and realised that Harry and Ron had not followed her. "Are you coming, or not?" That got them moving.
However, Hermione did not lead the boys out of the castle. Instead, she led them to a certain seventh-floor corridor. She indicated a patch of wall. "Harry, ask for help."
He looked at her blankly.
Hermione almost stamped her foot in frustration. "Oh, come on, Harry. This Horcrux thing is so much bigger than you are. It's bigger than the three of us together. Voldemort – oh, grow up, Ron – would put much Darker protection around his Horcruxes than the teachers put on the Philosopher's Stone. You have to ask for help. I mean, it's not as though Dumbledore can give you much more, can he?"
She had struck a nerve. Harry started walking past the wall. I need help. I need help. I need –
A large wooden door suddenly appeared in the wall and creaked open. Two teenage girls stumbled out and looked around. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say we somehow managed to make our way onto the set of the fifth movie," said the shorter of the two, the one not wearing glasses.
"Yeah, well, I can't see any cameras." The other one caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Um, Skye? Was there something dodgy in the popcorn?"
Skye gaped at the canon characters. "Holy Fudge Flies," she breathed.
Harry turned to Hermione. "This is the help I get? Two Australians?"
Skye and her friend crossed their arms. "You have a problem with our nationality, Mr Radcliffe?" Skye demanded.
"Radcliffe?" Ron repeated.
Harry shook his head. "This would have to be the first time I've been mistaken for someone else," he remarked.
Skye's jaw dropped. "This is not happening. Mel, how could we get into the Potterverse?"
"More importantly, what are we doing in 90's clothes?" Mel muttered, holding out the sides of her oversized pullover. "I haven't a clue. Can we just hold a conferencing session?"
"That's my phrase, get your own," Skye hissed.
"Potterverse?" Hermione repeated.
"Is everything about me?" Harry demanded.
"The books are called 'Harry Potter'," Mel said patronisingly.
"Not 'Draco Malfoy'," Skye added.
"And the films have the same titles as the books," Mel went on.
"There are films about me?" Harry asked, horrified. This was not the sort of help he had meant, if it was help at all.
"Why do you think we were talking about sets?" Skye muttered. "Australia makes movies, too, you know. We just haven't made many good ones for a while." Mel glanced at the ceiling.
"Look, I asked for help," Harry began.
"Did you really?" Mel said, taken aback. "That's not like you at all. I thought you preferred to do things by yourself."
"How do you know Harry so well?" Ron asked.
"Well," Skye said, with the air of beginning to tell a long story, "We've read the books, seen the films, and read quite a bit of fanfiction. Not to mention the reviews of the films and fanfictions."
"What do the reviews of the films have to do with characters staying in character?" Mel demanded.
"Not much," Skye conceded. "But we still read them. Now, you asked for help; this is the Potterverse and that's the Room Of Requirement, I take it?"
Hermione nodded.
"So we're your help," Mel mused. "Well, that's good. We can stop you from stuffing up your life too much more."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't stuff up my life. Dark powers do that for me."
"Mel meant your personal life," Skye pointed out. "Which you have managed to stuff up astonishingly, by the way. The Idiot Affectionately Known As Voldie can wait."
"The who?" Ron demanded.
"No, that's a band," Mel deadpanned. "Skye meant Voldemort."
"Voldie?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "You call him Voldie?"
Skye nodded eagerly. "The Wonderfully Ingenious Yet Disturbingly Evil Jo Rowling said on her site that she doesn't mind people calling him 'Voldie' so we get away with it."
"The –"
"Wonderfully Ingenious Yet Disturbingly Evil Jo Rowling," Mel finished. "The author of the canon Harry Potter series. I don't know how many people have taken it upon themselves to re-write it."
"You mean AU fics?" Skye asked. "Alternate Universe," she added in response to the canon characters' questioning looks.
"Oh, great," Mel said suddenly, snapping her fingers. "I just realised. Skye, we're Mary Sues." She said it with the air of a jailed person announcing to their family they had a life sentence.
"Oh, brilliant," Skye said sarcastically. "I hate Mary Sues!"
Suddenly Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified, interrupted them. "All students leaving on the Hogwarts Express to the front lawn, please. All students leaving on the Hogwarts Express to the front lawn."
"We'd better get going," Hermione stated, and all five hurried to the front lawn. Introductions were made as they went.
Mel and Skye found themselves on the Hogwarts Express. "It's like something out of a Poirot movie," Skye mused. Neville, Luna and Ginny had joined the Golden Trio and the two Mary Sues in the compartment, so it was slightly squashed. As Ernie Macmillan made his way by with Terry Boot, he could be heard to say, "And yet there's a compartment for every student."
"Your British scenery is so much greener," Mel remarked. "If we were on the Ghan, we'd have a lovely view of the desert. Maybe a few kangaroos, if we were lucky."
"Too right," Skye muttered. "And I'm the one who's been to Alice Springs and Uluru." She sighed.
"Now, Harry, what are we going to do about you?" Mel asked exasperatedly, as Ginny caught his eye and then they both looked away.
"What do you mean?" he asked. Ginny produced a pack of Exploding Snap cards and she, Hermione and Luna started a game.
"Well, that went well," Skye muttered. "About what happened after Dumbledore's funeral, Harry –"
Boom. Ginny's hand got singed.
The blood drained from Harry's face, leaving the lightning-bolt scar and his eyes particularly noticeable. "That was in the book?"
"Of course," Mel replied matter-of-factly. "Not happy, Jan. Not happy at all."
"Then again, we've had eighteen months to reflect on the stupidity of it," Skye pointed out.
"You think the funeral was stupid? Why?" Hermione enquired testily.
"Oh, no, not the funeral," Mel said quickly. "That was just sad. Poor Dumbledore … no, we're talking about something that Harry did after the funeral."
"Why is it stupid?" Harry demanded. Ginny stormed out.
"You mean, apart from that?" Skye commented, eyebrows raised.
"Look, I know it's not … desirable, but it's necessary," Harry defended himself.
Mel's eyebrows shot up so high they were in danger of disappearing into her hair. "You think?"
"Of course he doesn't," Skye said heatedly. "He's Harry Potter. When has he ever thought?"
"Oi!" Harry said, stung.
"Don't worry," Mel assured him. "That was just Skye's blue-bottle imitation."
"A blue-bottle would hurt more," Skye pointed out. "And leave visible scarring."
"What happened to dittany?" Mel quipped.
"You can get that in Australia?" Skye questioned.
"Why is Ginny angry with you, mate?" Ron cut in.
"You won't be calling him 'mate' in a minute," Mel muttered.
"I, er," Harry stalled.
"He dumped her," Skye supplied.
"I didn't dump her!" Harry exclaimed.
"Well, you certainly didn't let her off lightly," Mel countered. "You said it three different ways, Harry. Surely that constitutes as dumping? The only good thing about it was that you didn't say, 'It's not you, it's me.'"
Silence reined supreme for a full two minutes after Mel and Skye's bombshell dropped. Then Ron stood up, gripped Harry's arm and dragged him out of the compartment.
"I won't say 'I told you so,'" Mel said succinctly.
"Stop quoting Hermione," Skye muttered.
A.N: 'Not happy, Jan' is a line from an old ad for the Yellow Pages in Australia. Oh no, we've succumbed to the dreaded must-insert-selves-into-fic disease, and added two Mary Sues. Ah well, we hope it's original enough – Australia is, after all, a unique land, and we don't just mean the wildlife – for you to review … hint, hint