"Ahhhh, Aquafina. Pure water, perfect taste. Hey, if this is product-placement, how much do you figure that sentence was worth? I said it after every bottle, so whatever it is, they'd better multiply it by 48."

We were NOT supposed to drink the entire case!

"Then why did she put an entire case there?" I countered, belching. "Gotta be prepared in situations like these. I've got a gut feeling it was all part of the plan."

Besides, we puked a lot of it back up. It's cool. Feel the hydration! We're so healthy!

How are we supposed to complete this mission when we slosh when we walk?

"Elementary, my dear Voice," I said, pointing to the nearby tree line. "We don't walk. I figure we do this Hit Monkey-style until we have a better idea."

Hit Monkey?

Yes, he tried to kill us in Monkey Business. Remember?

Monkey Business? The arc where we got to pal around with Spidey? Can you believe he doesn't have a Spider Cave? He's Spiderman! He should have a Spider Cave!

I think the prime focus here is the monkey in the tuxedo that spent the entire story trying to spray our brains all over the ceiling.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. But that's not the important part…remember the maid costume we wore to confuse him?"

That SHOULD have worked!

Putting a skimpy mini-dress with ruffles over our bright red spandex suit does not count as a disguise.

"Well, in between water bottles and vomiting I skimmed through the Spark Notes version of this series. We need some billowy black wizard robes if we wanna blend. But since we don't know where the laundry room is in this big-ass castle, I figure we go in with style. There's only one way to charge a castle, am I right?"

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

YES!

"Time to find a noble steed!"

Why did they put a children's school next to THIS place? This is where you go to make bodies disappear.

"Indeed. Gentlemen, welcome to the Forbidden Forest. Home of centaurs, werewolves, unicorns, and, if I'm right, our ticket into this joint."

Flying invisible zombie-horses!

Thestrals? The undead horses with wings, which only those who have watched a person die can see? Again, I'm constrained to ask, is this seriously a children's book?!

"Says here," I said, pulling out my cell phone again, "that these things like the smell of raw meat. And we all know we won't have any trouble seeing them."

Oh, great.

I pulled off a glove and waved it in the air, calling, "Heeeere horsey-horsey! Soooooooey! Don't mind the gunpowder. Think of it as, uh…seasoning."

This is degrading. Do we even have self-esteem, anymore? All those times girls said, "Ew, no way, you smell like old steak!"…

That's the smell of HEALING FACTOR, man! That's the smell that says, "I'll never leave you, even if my enemies blow my head off, 'cause it'll just grow back!" That's fidelity. We're seriously the perfect guy! Someday they'll all see it.

Several dark, skeletal horses appeared in the distance, drawn by the scent of my fucked-up hand. As promised by the Harry Potter Wiki, they had huge, bat-like wings and reptilian heads. Their sharp bone structure was easy to see against the smooth black hide that covered their bodies. This was not going to be good for my glutes.

The biggest one approached me and licked at my bare hand, then flared his nostrils and snorted violently, staggering backward.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I sighed. "It's no picnic for me, either. Listen…one ugly to another—do me a solid and let me ride you up to the castle."

I don't think that's going to work.

"Shut up. I'm in the middle of a bro-down," I hissed. Turning back to the thestral, I spread my hands and said, "I respect you, bro. You and me, we're the same. People give us a bad rep because of the way we look, you know what I'm saying? Look at you, living in this shithole forest, when you could be out meeting lots of fine ladies in the big world. And me…I gotta wear this mask because my face makes babies cry."

And some grown men. Actually, it comes in handy, sometimes.

"I feel the pain. I feel it in here." I thumped my chest with my fist. "But that's the thing, bro. I'm just another merc. Nobody gives a shit about me. But you? You are a stallion, man! Fuck Pegasus. Maybe he gets all the honeys because he's pretty, but when a job needs doing, who do they turn to?"

The thestral looked around, then shifted on his hooves.

"That's right," I said. "You. My man. You're pulling carriages for those assholes when you should be taking to the skies! You get no respect from them. Neither do I. And they may not be able to see you because of the whole death thing, but they can sure as hell see me." I pulled off my mask and grinned.

The thestral let out a startled wheeze and shook his head violently.

"I know. I'm sorry. I know what I look like, bro…" I started to put the mask back on, and the thestral hesitated, then stepped toward me again and nudged my elbow with his nose, lowering a wing.

Interspecies BROMAAAANCE!

I can't believe this is working.

"Thanks, bro. I'll never forget this." I climbed up and sat with my knees in front of the thestral's wing joints, threading his mane through my fingers and hoping I wouldn't fall on my ass the second he took off. "By the way, do you know anything about a chick named, uh…" I fiddled with the author's note in my belt pouch. "Sapphire de la Fleur?"

Why are we asking the horse?

Wait for it…

"Sapphire?" A stupidly handsome guy wandered into the clearing. At first I thought he was riding a horse, but then I realized he was actually just a man's torso attached to a horse. Or, part of a horse.

See? This is recon.

How did we know he would show up?

Well, this Sapphire girl is the main character, and apparently she's got at least two famous guys chasing her. It stands to reason that she, herself, is famous in this world, doesn't it?

But what was he doing? Just standing there the whole time, waiting for us to say her name? That's shitty writing!

That's why we're here, remember?

Oh.

"Make it quick, pretty boy," I said. "I've got a kickass entrance to make and a longtime fantasy to fulfill."

"My name is Firenze," the centaur said dreamily. "I teach Divination at the School, and I do not live in the forest anymore, but I could not help noticing your intrusion into my old home."

"Well, I'm on my way out. What do you know about Sapphire?"

The thestral heaved a great sigh, but Firenze seemed to perk up instantly. His blue eyes glazed over with what could only be a nauseating amount of lovelight. "Sapphire de la Fleur is the most gifted human I have ever seen. She is a natural Seer, far greater than any of my people. She is a descendant of one of the founders of Hogwarts, Rowena Ravenclaw, for whom her House was named, and she has top marks in all of her classes. She models for the Firebolt racing broom company, and plays the position of Seeker for her House Quidditch team. Her favorite color is azure, and she has a unicorn named Moonlight and a white cat named Shadow."

…Uh, wow.

"What are you, her stalker?"

Firenze gave me a wounded look. "I am her teacher. If…if she would have me, I would be her lover, but I am only a humble centaur. A beautiful, perfect young woman like Sapphire can hardly be expected to look my way."

Stop right there, brain. We do not want that image in our head.

Aw, come on. Remember that video of the girl with the horse and—

Shut up! We don't watch that stuff!

Who are we trying to impress? The Readers? Think they'll judge us? Wait, are we starting to care about the Readers?!

Some of them are girls, and we are single. It can't hurt to try to take this opportunity to get back into the dating game…

Dude. That's just sad.

"Right." I cleared my throat. "Uh, what does she look like?"

"She is 5'9" with—"

"Woah, woah, wait. 5'9"? I thought we were in England. Don't you guys use the metric system?"

Firenze seemed confused. "I do not know what you imply."

Oh boy.

What's the metric system?

"I'm getting that…" I scratched my head. "And they think I'm crazy. All right, look, just keep going. I think being around you is killing off my brain cells faster than the cancer."

"She is 5'9" with waist-length golden-blonde hair, orbs of blue crystal—"

"Orbs of—what?"

"Her eyes. They are blue."

If this is how the author wrote the entire story, we might as well shoot ourselves now.

That never works. Hey, let's just shoot everyone else!

"We won't get paid if we don't do this right," I muttered. "Yo, Firenze. More description, less bad poetry. What makes her stick out from a crowd? I need to find her."

He went on, still looking dazed and lovesick. "Her modeling contract requires her to wear designer clothing from the Firebolt company. She has been exempted from the school uniform for this reason." He sighed. "It is a terrible burden for her. She laments standing out so much, but she has no other means of income, as both of her parents died and left her with nothing but a large, empty mansion, but not enough money to maintain it."

"Why doesn't she just sell the mansion?"

"That is her family home!" Firenze said, incensed. "The very idea is an insult! No, she must model for Firebolt and wear their designs…for her ancestors."

"Okaaaay. We're leaving now. By the way—teacher-student relations? Never a good idea."

"She is 18," Firenze reminded me as the thestral flapped its wings and started to rise.

I held on tightly. "Oh man, what a nutcase. Onward, noble stallion! We must rescue the castle from the princess!"

The thestral snorted as if to say, "You have no idea, buddy," and carried me toward the castle. We passed over a lake, and I glanced down and saw my reflection in the water. It looked like I was flying on my own through the air, splay-legged. There was no image of the horse.

I threw back my head and started to sing, enjoying the rush of wind against my mask. If only I had hair for the wind to ruffle. I could imagine how nice that would feel.

"She seems to have an invisible touch, yeah
She reaches in, and grabs right hold of your heart
She seems to have an invisible touch yeah
It takes control and slowly tears you apart.

She don't like losing, to her it's still a game
And though she will mess up your life,
You'll want her just the same, and now I know
She has a built in ability
To take everything she sees
And now it seems I've fallen, fallen for her!"

Why are we singing a Genesis song?

"I dunno, it just felt strangely appropriate. It's a tasty jam, and we are invisible."

Invisible Touch!

The horse is invisible. We just look like we have a rocket-powered penis.

That. Is. Brilliant. Write that down and patent that shit! Rocket-dick! Genius!

"Oof, speaking of, I gotta find a can. I drank 48 bottles of Aquafina. I need to take the mother of all leaks. Thestral-bro, could you set me down outside the nearest men's?"

The skeletal horse landed gracefully on the roof, outside a tower. There was just enough room for me to jump off his back and onto the window sill.

"Thanks, man! I guess this is where we part ways. I'll give 'em hell for you, buddy. Bump it."

I held out my fist, and the thestral tapped his nose against it. Then he turned and took off again, headed back to the forest.

You know, this was actually a really good plan. We have intel, and we have a way into the castle, with none the wiser about our presence.

And since this is the bathroom, we can just knock some guy out and take his wizard robes, right?

"We'll figure it out."

The window was already partly open, probably to let out stink fumes from the aftermath of a fried English breakfast. I pulled it all the way open and slid into the room.

"Never again with the full case of Aquafina! Aieeee!" I tiptoed to the urinals, wincing. The jostling zombie-horse ride had not been kind.

After I relieved myself, I sighed contentedly and washed my hands. Now all I had to do was steal some kid's clothes and work my way into the crowd until I found Sapphire. From what Firenze had said, it sounded like this would not be too hard.

I glanced toward the door and realized that it was even simpler than I'd thought. Two sets of wizard robes were lying on the floor.

Score! Take 'em!

Why are they just lying there?

I shrugged, pulling the larger set over my head. It covered all of my suit, except for my mask. That was going to be a problem…I could take the mask off, but the face beneath was a mess of scar tissue. It looked more like a lumpy hamburger than a face.

Do it. If anyone says anything, just tell them about the cancer.

Yeah, then they'll feel like total jerks!

Actually, this entire experience might prove to be very validating for us.

"Let's not take this to extremes." I pulled off my mask and stuffed it into my pocket. "Now, we're gonna want to get of here, pronto."

How come?

Two sets of robes are on the floor of the men's room. Figure it out.

As if on cue, the door of one of the stalls flew open, and two guys tumbled out of it, locked in a passionate embrace. I wanted to leave—I really, really did. But I was just so damn confused, because I recognized them. I had seen their pictures on Wikipedia. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were making out on the floor. It flew in the face of all logic. They were supposed to be arch-enemies. Instead, they were tickling each other's tonsils.

Can we leave? This is too weird, even for us.

Harry heard me take a step toward the door and gasped, pulling away from Draco. "Someone's seen us!"

"Wh-what?" Draco looked up, then flinched as his eyes found my face. "Who are you? What are you doing?"

"I was taking a leak," I answered. "What's your excuse? At least I have a legitimate reason for being here."

"If you ever tell anyone—if you say a word—you're dead," Draco snarled. "Do you hear me, freak? I don't recognize your face, but it's not one anyone's likely to forget in a hurry. I have friends in high places, so keep your mouth shut about this."

"Oooo, scary! Well, I'm taking your clothes as payment for misuse of a bathroom stall. If I were you, I'd keep quiet about me and my face."

"Why should I?"

"Draco…" Harry began, putting a hand on his shoulder, but Draco shrugged him off.

"Answer me! I said, why should I?"

Eh, what the hell. I used what seemed to be the magic word around here. "Sapphire de la Fleur."

Both boys suddenly blushed, looking anywhere but at each other.

"That's what I thought. Boy, you guys have some serious issues to work out. Good luck with that. I quit."

We can't quit.

"Watch me," I murmured, opening the door. "This is completely retarded. I'm going back to the forest to chill with my thestral homies until these idiots graduate."

"Oh! Sorry, I'm—I'm so clumsy!"

A girl had bumped into me as I exited, and now she stood back, her eyes downcast. I cocked my head to one side, looking her up and down. She wasn't wearing the black, shapeless robes everyone else had on.

Everyone but the two dudes in the bathroom.

Not now!

She wore a low-cut black dress that showed off her perfect figure. I couldn't see what it had to do with broom advertisement until I looked reeeeal close and saw tiny lightning bolts above the frog clips that held the high slits in the skirt closed at the hip. For the most part, I was having trouble keeping my eyes off her legs, but she stood still long enough for me to take in the full magnitude of her supreme hotness. Apparently she was used to this. She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind one ear, from which dangled a sapphire earring. In fact, she had a lot of rocks—sapphire earrings, a sapphire ring, a sapphire bracelet, and a sapphire pendant. She oozed wealth, despite what Firenze had said about her being forced to model just to make ends meet.

Well, she's probably very good at her job.

So…hot! Must…motorboat!

I resisted the urge to stick my face between her boobs. It was a heroic effort, made all the more so because she would never know of my struggle, and how damn hard it was. Most women probably have no idea this even goes on. The men around them are fighting themselves every day just to avoid motorboating them, and do they get any recognition for it? No!

C'mon…they're literally right there! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?

Think of it this way: if we do that, it will be wonderful for about five seconds, but then she'll hit us in the face or the balls, or both, and she'll never speak to us again. We need to finish this job and get the hell out of here. Remember what's in the bathroom? Pretty sure the stain on the sleeve of this robe isn't toothpaste.

Damn it! We wouldn't even have been in there if it wasn't for all those water bottles. Fuck you, Aquafina! Fuck you and your pure, perfect taste!

Finally, I had distracted myself enough to hold an intelligent conversation. "Are you Sapphire de la Fleur? I was pretty much told to look for the hottest chick in Hogwarts, and…uh, well, pretty sure that's you. You're also wearing about 30 Gs in sapphires and white gold. Kind of like a nametag, right? I totally get it, babe!" Well, semi-intelligent.

Her eyes filled with tears. At first I thought it was my face and instinctively reached for my mask, but then she spoke. "That's all anyone ever sees!" she wailed. "Why did I have to be born beautiful? I never asked to be good at everything! It's a curse! No one understands me! No one knows what it's like to be judged but me!"

Um…

Sorry, I…I got nothing.

"You know what? I was going to try to help you with the hope that it might possibly lead to a happy ending, but I can tell already that you're just a spoiled bitch with no redeeming qualities who definitely wouldn't sleep with a guy like me, so I'm just gonna tell you one thing. Your little boytoys are boofing each other in the loo behind me. Enjoy that."

She stared at me in shock. "You…you don't think I'm pretty?"

She is really stuck on that, isn't she?

"Oh no, you're hot. But that's about it." I turned away and pulled out my phone. Marina could take this job and stuff it unless I had permission to kill everyone in the castle.

The door opened before I could finish dialing. Draco and Harry emerged awkwardly. Harry was in his underpants, having had his clothes stolen. They cringed when they saw Sapphire.

"So it's true," she sobbed. "I…I don't know what to say to either of you! Draco…you said you loved me! And so did you, Harry!"

"And you were cool with that? Just stringing both of them along?" I said.

"Sapphire!" Harry cried, throwing himself dramatically at her feet. "You don't understand! I've never felt so conflicted in my life. Before you, there was only Draco. At first we hated each other, but…"

"But something changed," Draco finished for him, his eyes blazing with warmth. "The fire of our hatred became a burning torch of passion, and one night in the trophy room, it…it overwhelmed us. It was just supposed to be a duel, but it turned into something so much more."

"We were together for so long, and then you transferred in, Sapphire. I didn't know Draco felt the same way about you that I do, but now that I do, I…feel relieved, honestly. I don't feel like I'm cheating, anymore when I allow myself to think of you, because I know he does it, as well."

Let's shoot ourself in the head. Please! At least we'll be out of this for a few minutes! No more! NO MORE!

Think of the money, think of the money, think of the money…

MAKE IT STOP!

Tears rolled down Sapphire's cheeks and landed on her jeweled necklace. She pressed her hands to her face. "I…I love you both. I just don't know what to do right now. I don't know how to feel!"

Marina's voice suddenly replayed in my mind, as softly as it had on the cell phone. Deadpool, she had whispered. Swing away…

Bingo.

Yahtzee!

I raised my right hand slowly. It all happened that way—slowly, the way it does in Zack Snyder movies, until it speeds up again so you get the full force of a kickass flying tiger knee or a spent shotgun cartridge. I pivoted, putting my body behind my movement, adding weight, adding momentum. The back of my hand connected with Harry's face, and for a moment, I saw surprise in his emerald green eyes, and in that moment, I finally understood the title of the story. It was so goddamn stupid. And it gave me an idea. Emerald or Sapphire? That was the key. It had to be him or her. That was the only thing that was going to make this shit stop.

As Harry collided with the wall with the force of my bitchslap, I silenced Sapphire's squeal of horror with my other hand. Draco simply stared at me intensely, anger and hatred in his eyes. That seemed to be the extent of the writer's knowledge of his behavior. In short, he was a shallow asshole with nice hair.

I picked Harry up and slung him, semi-conscious, over my shoulder. "Okay, listen up," I said. "The Harry Potter Wiki says the main baddie of this series is some dude named Voldemort. Says he's trying to come back from being half-dead, or whatever. Is that right?"

Sapphire nodded vigorously.

"Well, let's give him what he wants."

"Why would you do such a terrible thing?" she gasped.

"So I can kill him. Duh. I kill the baddie, the story ends, and I get to leave. Whaddya say, Voices?"

Surprisingly logical. If we can pull it off.

Ziggy says there's a 97% probability that if you don't do this by Tuesday, everyone in the castle will die of dysentery because the guy who invented the cure will never have been born.

Quantum Leap! We love that show! Seriously, though, let's do this as fast as possible.

"All right, let's raise a motherfucking Dark Lord!" I checked my phone, still holding Harry by the legs. "Unicorn blood…hmm. Hey, Sapphire, go get Moonlight so we can ki—uh, feed her lots of…birthday cake...yeah..."

Smooth, genius.