Fools Rush In
Chapter 3
By Ginny :)
Hi there, peoples! ^_^
Sorry this took awhile... obviosuly, fanfiction.net has been very down indeed recently.
This story is gonna progress slowly but surely... I'm still co-writing with Bunny Chan, and we are actually doing another story after 'Even Angels Make Mistakes', so those [three] of you who read our work, don't give up on us just because Melissa Johnns and co are no more, lol. They'll probably be back, actually.
My thanks to hermione potter and Beth, for beta reading and thanks :+:Nicki:+: for helping me Americanise the, er, Americans... :)
I'm going away for a week on Monday... 8 people.... on a small boat... scairy!!!!
OK, that was long & pointless... well, read on, folks!
Ginny :)
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Things were eventually explained to Miriam and Sophie. Harry was surprised to see that Miriam accepted it with cheerful amusement, whilst Sophie nodded and looked shy and serious. From what he could figure out from their conversation, this was a Dream Come True, the kind of thing that Happens In Stories, Wow How Amazing!
Only Ariel seemed at all unhappy about it. Harry had decided that he didn't like Ariel. She was mouthy, and had a patience that you needed scientific equipment to track down. She disliked every one of Harry and his friends on what was apparently sheer principal. Harry didn't understand why, but decided not to let it bother him. Malfoy said it was because she was American, but really, listening to Malfoy's opinions wasn't a mark of intelligence.
The main problem seemed to Harry, was that now he and his friends had become a part of Reality, where could they go? He posed this question to Hermione, who in turn asked Paloma, guessing correctly that Ariel would only sneer.
"Well..." Paloma frowned, thinking, "Ariel and I are staying in a hotel not that far away, called The Castle. It's near St. James Street." She turned to Miriam and Sophie, "Where are you two staying?"
"With Miriam's aunt," replied Sophie swiftly, "They agreed to have us for a few days."
"Right..." Paloma frowned in thought for a moment, and then continued, "How about, two of you guys come and stow away in the hotel with me and Ariel...? Miriam, would your aunt have the other two?"
Miriam shrugged "I don't know. I suppose so. If it comes to it, they can lie low in my room."
Ariel scowled "Do we even have to help them?"
"Well, why not?" Paloma turned to her friend, eyes alight, "It'll be dead cool!"
"I know!" Sophine nodded in agreement, "The Harry Potter characters--"
"Excuse me," Malfoy interrupted, in chilly tones, "But I refuse to be referred to as 'a Harry Potter character'. I am as good as nothing to do with him, I'll have you know, Muggle, and--"
"Shut up." If Malfoy's voice had been chilly, Ariel's was positively freezing. The two glared at each other, eye to eye. Rock brown against steel grey. Ariel won, and smirked happily, tossing her own silver web of hair back over her shoulder.
"Well, um, moving swiftly on," Sophie put in, not wishing to see more of a confrontation then was necessary. When things started getting like this, there could sometimes be no stop to them, "Who'll go where?"
"So long as I don't have to talk to this jerk," Ariel indicated Malfoy, "I don't care."
"The feeling is entirely mutual, Mudblood."
"Can you two put a sock in it for five minutes?!" Paloma protested, "I don't think I could cope if you two had to share a room with me anyway. Malfoy, you can go with Miriam and Sophie. Is that OK, you two?"
"Yeah."
"Fine."
"What makes you think I want to go with anyone?" Malfoy objected, scowling at the girls. He was feeling out-numbered.
"Well, you can stay here then, and get arrested for not having
a valid ticket."
"Dumbeldore'd get sued!" Miriam said happily, "If
they had their ticket barriers stopping you lot getting off'f
the station, 'cause none of you Hogwarts kids'd have the right
tickets. You be trapped, and he'd probably get charged..."
"But they don't have ticket barriers outside platform 9 or 10," pointed out Hermione logically, "So he won't."
Miriam put on a mock hoity- toity tone of voice, "That's right! Destroy my interesting metal image, why don'cha?"
"Look," Paloma sounded a little desperate, "We've got to get this sorted, right? Me and Ariel have got a hotel curfew to answer to, you know. And we would rather like to do some sight- seeing. Kings Cross isn't that great a place, you know. All the same, whose coming with us?"
Harry and Ron volunteered to go with Ariel and Paloma. Or more accurately, were subjected to the other's opinions.
The eight set off. Ariel, Miariam, Sophie and Paloma would probably have run away there and then, if they could have known what was going to come in the future...
~*~
They boarded the Victoria Line train to St. James Street, with the three Americans fully intending to explore London to their heart's content. The characters kept getting strange looks.
Even the hotel receptionist seemed to stare at them all oddly when Ariel and Paloma dropped off their bags, although that might have been because Ariel had just tried to eat a plastic grape from the imitation fruit basket on the desk. A girl with red hair made a loud comment to her friends about 'immature show offs' as they walked past. Paloma shot an imaginary air rifle after her.
St James' Park was crowded, but they managed to find Malfoy, Hermione, Sophie and Miriam eventually. Harry was distantly used to people looking at him oddly, but it was the first time he'd ever been stopped in the street and been addressed as 'Daniel' and asked for an autograph by half a dozen Japanese Tourists. You didn't get many Japanese Tourists at Hogwarts, and anyway, everyone had known what his name was until now.
You stood out, as an English person in St. James' Park, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy and Miriam were not acceptions. This was because no sane British soul goes anywhere near it during tourist hours, if they don't want to spend all their spare time taking photos for tourists.
The sun shone brightly through the trees, and glinted laughingly off of the surface of the lake. People picnicked in the grass, and broke laws about feeding the pigeons. Children shouted and chased each other in the dappled shade. A brass band played the Oom-Pah. Half a dozen girls in school uniform were singing loudly about Ging Gang Goolies, whatever they were. A TV crew was there, filming a man talking excitedly about Ken Livingstone and Trafalgar Square. The breeze played in the trees, and the flowers seemed to smile. Couples walked hand in hand across the white bridge over the rippling green lake.
It was that sort of an afternoon.
The 8 teenagers sat on the grass and talked aimlessly, until it was time to leave. Harry was happy-- or what he certainly assumed was happy-- for the first time... well... ever! These people seemed decent, despite what he'd heard about fanfiction authors. All the same, he thought, you couldn't trust people who wrote, twisting things, bending words and phrases, making everything all wrong...
What he didn't realise, was that almost every Harry Potter Fanfiction writer on the planet was currently experiencing writer's block. That is to say, all those who wished to write about Harry, Ron, Hermione or Malfoy.
The sun soon hung low behind dark grey clouds. The air seemed to be charged with static, making Hermione's hair even frizzier then usual. A storm must be coming. They agreed to part ways; They could meet up again the next day. Harry and Ron left, running with Ariel and Paloma towards the hotel, suspecting that they'd already passed their curfew. They were almost right; they darted into the hotel lobby not a second before the doors were slammed shut by an irate Receptionist.
"Keep the noise down! And don't expect a morning call tomorrow, coming in at this hour."
"Sorry!" gasped Paloma, as she tried to catch her breath.
"Hmmm," the Receptionist looked down her nose at the four, now rather scruffy, kids, "You in charge, are you?"
Paloma nodded, "I'm the oldest, so I suppose so."
"Right. Don't let any of them disturb the other guests, or else!"
"I won't... I won't..."
"Well, to bed then!" She chivvied them along, "Room
12a. And no getting up to anything, I know what teenagers
are like, nowadays."
Room 12a-- 12a being, Harry strongly suspected, an euphemism for the Dreaded 13-- was not designed for more then two people. The receptionist obviously hadn't registered that there were more people entering in the room then had previously been booked. Nor had she noticed the two boys, two girls occurrence, which would almost certainly have been very forbidden indeed.
Eventually, they all found somewhere to lay down, and fell asleep like dead men.
~*~
Harry looked up. The sky was as black as a wolf's throat. A building was outlined against the lead sky. The Establishment. A thrill of horror ran through him, chilling his blood and bone marrow. A noise made him jump. He spun round. A Guard stood not five feet away, shapeless, terrible in the moonlight's distortion. A gasp rose in his throat, and, almost without thinking, Harry raced away as fast as he could. If the Guards found him...! But he was not followed. Maybe he hadn't been noticed? But... but he'd been feet away! How couldn't he have been? It didn't make sense...
But there was no time to wonder at it, as the ground seemed to fall away from his feet, and then rise again in a great shuddering heave. The force of it knocked all the breath from him. The air throbbed with a noise too loud to hear. There was light, heat, noise, the slap and sting of gravel against his skin as the ground heaved once more and Harry fell. His glasses cracked down onto the ground. Blinded, he fumbled desperately for them, searching the ground by feel.
Eventually, his finger felt the cold of the glass, and he was able to put them on again. One of the lenses seemed smashed, but he could still see with one eye.
He wished that he couldn't.
The Establishment, his old home and prison, was a wreck. He stumbled to his feet. Figures, too solid to be those of the Guards, seemed to be rising from the pile of rubble and cloud of dust, as though it were the Last Trump.
And then the familiar blinding pain hit him so hard it forced him to the ground again. He could feel himself screaming. It felt as though something was smacking him like a red hot knife between the eyes. He writhed in pain.
"Harry? Harry!"
"He's having a fit!"
"Like in the books. Cool!"
"Shutupshutupshutup!"
"Can't we do something?!"
"Why?"
"Shut up, Ariel!"
"Harry?! Wake up!"
Hands shook him. The world spun. Harry opened his eyes.
Three worried faces hovered above him. He blushed at the expression on Ariel's.
"You OK, mate?" Paloma looked nervously at him.
The floor was pressing his glasses into his face. Harry forced himself up. He nodded vaguely, sweat pouring into his eyes. His mouth felt like something furry had slept in it. He sat down shakily onto the futon where had he originally been sleeping. He was cold, but at the same time, far, far too hot.
"Harry?" It was Ron, "What do you think...? I mean, this shouldn't be happening... not in Reality? Should it?"
"Don'know," Harry muttered, "Don'think so... I mean... I saw the Establishment. You know, where we came from."
"Yeah... but so what? Well, Voldemort. He's in there. How can you be dreaming about him? He can't do anything, there. Hermione was probably right," there was a note of nervousness in Ron's voice all the same, "he's probably a nice bloke who likes listening to The Goon Show and, erm, watering pot plants..."
Ariel gaffawed, "Can't you just picture it? Voldie watering plants!"
"'s an intereting idea," Paloma smirked a little, "But, look, we ought to get Harry to a hospital or something--" Everyone ignored her.
"Look," Harry frowned, "I don't know, I don't understand it myself, but I think he's found a way out of the Establishment. Out of Fiction... into Reality."
"Cool!" Ariel grinned sadistically.
"No! No, it isn't," Paloma shook her head violently, "I get what they mean. Voldemort... in Reality... well! It's not a happy thought..."
"You're mad!" Ariel shrugged, "You believe all this stuff! It's not Real, you know!"
"It is Real!" Ron protested, "Trust me, you don't want to know what it's like. I don't think that You Know Who gave Voldemort all his powers. He must have some of his own, surely?"
"I hope not, but..." Harry shrugged.
And the door burst open.
Two irate figures stood in the doorway.
One, a girl with pronounced features and red hair, raised her eyebrows at them, "Excuse me, but can you lot continue killing each other in the morning?"
"Some of us are trying to sleep!" Added the other girl,
a blonde wearing a pair of teddy bear pyjamas, she glanced over
in Harry's direction, "What's up with him?"
"Ummm... bad dream," Paloma told her, not entirely untruthfully.
"He looks pretty bloody beaten up for someone whose only had a dream. People don't scream that loudly 'cause they had a dream," objected the blonde, frowning from behind her glasses.
"And is it even any of your business?" Ariel demanded.
"I'm simply stating a fact. That's all."
The red head raised her eyebrows, "Oh how lovely. Huh. I'm reporting you lot for disturbing us. What room is this? What're your names?" The two girls gave them grudgingly, "What about them two boys?"
"Uhm?" Paloma said, exchanging nervous glances with Ariel, "Umm..."
"Well? And don't try and tell me they don't have names, because they must do."
There seemed nothing else for it. Ariel told them.
"OK," the blonde frowned, "Now tell us their real names."
"It's true!" Paloma retorted.
"Yeah right, pull the other, it's got bells on."
"They can't be them, they're not real people," the blonde objected.
"Well, they look like them," pointed out Ariel, with something bordering on logic.
"Oh, please! Come on Eyra, I'm going to complain and tell the Receptionist that you're hiding boys in your room," the red head informed them cheerfully, "And what's more, if you guys don't shut up, I'll have to kill you, you do realise that, right?"
"We can prove we're telling the truth!" Blurted out Paloma suddenly.
The blonde, Eyra, bit her lip, "I think the boy with the dodgy glasses looks peaky. Are you sure he's OK?"
"'Course he ain't," said Ariel, happily, "but he will be."
Eyra looked doubtful, and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut across by her friend.
"Who cares? Come on, let's go and report--"
"I dunno, Dara... if he's ill, we should really call a GP out or something..."
"No point," Paloma frowned, "I mean, he's Harry Potter. I somehow don't imagine that a Muggle doctor could do much. I mean, he doesn't even logically exist, for goodness' sake!"
"I do!" Harry objected.
"Shut up and never say anything ever again as long as you live." Ariel told him.
"Listen!" Ron broke in suddenly, "Really! The whole of Realities' future could be hanging in the balance, and you lot just sit around here arguing about whether or not Harry exists!"
"So you say, but how do we know that you exist?" Eyra grinned, enjoying herself, "I mean, I think I heard you say that, but how can I be sure?"
"Well, if you heard me say it, I bloody said it!" Ron hadn't been born a natural philosopher, "In fact, I know I said it, and so do you, so stop pretending--"
"But if you're not Real, how can you know you said anything? Perhaps we're all mad? Perhaps we're all dreaming?" Eyra's grin was beginning to resemble that of a wolf's, "More to the point," she continued, the others staring at her curiously, "Real or not, what happened to all the good looking ones of you? Just I quite fancy meeting Sirius Black and Lupin. Does Draco really wear leather?"
"Not often," said Ron a little faintly, "Not that I know of."
"Pity."
Harry decided that he'd quite like to dissaperate now, please. He wished that he knew how to.
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Please take a few seconds to read and review? I love feedback on my stories, and constructive criticism is extra-welcome!
Ginny :)
