Guess what? It's us again, your favourite pairing of hyper crossover authors. You may know us from our first fic, Harry Potter and the Hunt for the M and M's. (Diva: Yes, all thirteen of you. Half of which were our friends are used to our crazy behavior.) Well, now we're back and ready for action, with more Harry Potter, and less Britney Spears. Aren't you glad for that fact? I can personally say I am. So yeah, back to the story. Our plot will be unfolding itself as we go along, as we're not entirely sure what's going to happen yet. So just sit tight, and if you're lucky, you'll get another running commentary. Oh, who are we kidding? You're going to get one whether you're lucky or not.
All right, I think I ought to get on with the introduction now. I, the one speaking (typing?) right now, am Angelina, author 199164. My co-author here, and good friend, is Diva937, author 136200. (Diva: *bows*) Together, we are a dynamic fanfiction writing team. Once again, huge lie. We're two absolutely psycho, presently very hyper girls who enjoy writing just as crazy stories about our favourite things to obsess over. All right, I'd better shut up or Diva will kill me. She's laughing at that. Well, actually, giggling. She says she doesn't giggle. Oh boy, here we go again…
I am shutting up now. Really. I will. On with the story!
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Once upon a time, Ron Weasley decided it would be a very clever idea to steal his parents car and fly to Hogwarts for the second year. But, of course, he had not accounted for the fact that his parents were not very fond of their sons flying their cars. So, being the oh-so-smart parents that they are, they put a bomb in the trunk that would activate as soon as he tried to land. Wise move, Ron. Note to self: Get background information on your parent's anti-car-theft tricks before taking off next time.
(Diva: We do realize this does not exactly fit with the story… Angel: No kidding. Diva: We just needed to change it…okay, so we didn't need to change it but we just did anyway. Angel: That's right, because if we didn't, we couldn't bring in my fandom!)
So anyway, Ron was in the flying blue car when he realized there was bomb in the trunk. Harry Potter was safely on the train on his way to Hogwarts because we don't feel like writing him into this particular fic. He got the M and M's story, this time it's Ron's chance to shine!
(Angel: I need serious help. Poor Ron. He gets tortured this time! Mwhaha! Diva: Let's bring in Hermione. Angel: Oh yeah! I've got ideas now…*more evil laughter* Diva: Scary thought…)
Hermione Granger popped out of the back seat, just because we decided right this second to put her in our fic. What was she doing back there? Well, we're not quite sure about that either. (Angel: Maybe she's stalking Ron… Diva: She was picking up the M and M's that Harry spilled last time he was in Ron's car, of course!)
Ron and Hermione decided not to worry about the fact that there was a bomb in the trunk. They decided to take after the passengers on a plane called the Fireflash from an old muggle television series called Thunderbirds. (Angel: Who somebody stupidly decided to pull the plug on after only 32 episodes! Hmph! Diva: No comment.)
The two students sat listening to the radio, talking about what they were going to do in school this year and how Ron really ought to get himself a girlfriend when suddenly, something in the trunk shifted and the bomb began to tick. Of course, it was ticking very, very loudly, and they could hear it all the way in the front of the car. This is no ordinary bomb. This is a bomb with a speaker attached to it, just for the sole purpose of alarming everybody in the vicinity. Or, if you're the Hood, you're going to mark it "Auto-Bomb Explosive Unit" just to make the organized people happy.
Hold on, we've gotten a bit sidetracked. Right, back to Ron and Hermione.
"Ron, what's that noise?" Asked Hermione.
"That's my new watch. Isn't it awesome?"
"That is not a watch." She listened. "Unless your watch is in the trunk."
"No, it's on my wrist. That's where normal people keep their watches, you know."
"Yes, I know, you idiot. I, of all people, am not stupid."
And so, we begin to see the beginning of a viscous quarrel between Ron and Hermione. Who knew they possessed those fighting talents? Bring on the swords!
Miraculously, both Ron and Hermione had swords in sheaths off their belts. (Angel: Do they wear belts? And why do they have swords? Diva: They have belts because we have said so. And they have swords because they need something to keep in their belts. Yeah, that's it. Angel: Oh, all righty then.)
So Ron and Hermione went about their sword fight and the car flew itself because this is a flying car so why can't it fly itself like normal cars? Wait, normal cars can't drive themselves, so how can a flying car fly itself? It's Diva's logic, not mine. Okay, anyway, back to the story.
(Diva: It makes sense in my brain… Angel: A lot of things make sense in your brain. You're just special, Diva. Very, very special. Diva: Why thank you! And I'm ignoring any and all sarcasm there.)
Right, so the flying car is flying itself and the two people in it are sword fighting. What about the bomb, you ask? Well, once again, we got a bit sidetracked. The bomb, as we said, is ticking in the trunk. It's set to go off very soon. Oh no! What are Ron and Hermione going to do about it?
Can anybody say, "Calling International Rescue?". No, of course not. They're just going to duke it out in the front seat and wait to see what happens.
Idiots, both of them. I swear. Idiots!
So, being the amazingly helpful authors that we are, we will do it for them.
(Angel: Calling International Rescue... Diva: Right, what she said.)
Up in Thunderbird 5, the space station and monitoring station of the elite rescue team, good old John Tracy was looking at the stars. Do you know why he was looking at the stars and not down on the island with his family and the rest of the squad? Because the guy that created him hated him! How the heck is that possible? Your loyal and wonderful authors are still trying to puzzle out this piece of information.
Okay, back to the story. John was up in Thunderbird 5 when the call came in from Angelina. He had never heard of Harry Potter, being more interested in stars than magic, and was quite surprised to find that a flying car had a bomb in the trunk and needed their help. But, because he had four brothers, he was quite used to tactics people used to keep others from taking their possessions.
He called base and told everyone, who all happened to be sitting in the room despite the fact that the villa was fricking huge. (Diva: Yes, they all spend their time in one room even though they live on their own island. Figure out the logic in that.) Off went Scott in Thunderbird 1 (Angel: That's the silver one, Diva. Diva: Thank you!) and Virgil in Thunderbird 2 (Diva: The red one! No, that's not the red one is it…That's the one that carries the supplies and stuff, right? Angel: Very good, Diva! Go get a dog biscuit. Diva: Hey! Can I have some chips instead? Angel: Sure. I hate Salt and Vinegar anyway.) along with the pod that happened to have the elevator cars used in the first episode. See, Angelina loves the elevator cars because she loves Virgil. Wait, this story is not about me, is it?
Right! It's about Ron and Hermione and the bomb in their trunk! And that is completely normal. In our minds, anyway. The sword fighting continued, and neither of them happened to notice that there was a huge silver rocket-shaped plane flying over their head with a very demanding IR agent yelling orders at them. No, of course they didn't notice it. Hermione was too busy trying to chop Ron's head off. Whoops, better not tell Harry that. He wouldn't like to be so far away when the brutal murder of Ron was taking place.
Unfortunately, she did not succeed and both leaned out the windows to see what the heck was going on.
(Angel: There is no appreciation for Thunderbirds these days, is there, Diva? Diva: Yes, it is an extremely under appreciated show. Angel: Considering this is the first time you've ever seen it, I'd say I've corrupted you. Diva: Yeah, you have. Angel: Whoopie! Oh, and for all you people out there, it's on BBC Kids on Saturday and Sunday mornings at 9 o'clock MTN time, 8 o'clock PST time! So like, go watch it okay? Do you think BBC Kids will give me a sponsorship deal for this promoting? Diva: It's somewhat doubtful. Angel: Sigh.)
"Slow down!" Yelled Scott. "There is a bomb in the trunk of your car!"
Ron turned to Hermione. "Did he think I did not already know that?"
Hermione shrugged and leaned back out the window. "You better have a good reason for stopping me from murdering him. Do you?"
"Yes! There's a bomb in your trunk!"
"I heard! It's old news now. Come back in ten minutes okay?"
"Sorry, but you do not have ten minutes. The bomb is designed to go off in nine point five minutes!"
(Diva: Why don't they say nine and a half minutes? Angel: Uh…the same reason why they don't say seventy five hundred when referring to Thunderbird One's speed. I am the queen of useless Thunderbird knowledge. I hope you're getting used to it. Diva: I am, don't worry. The scary part is absorbing some of it. Angel: What, you mean like, learning? Diva: No, I mean like sucking it into your skin and then passing out when it gets into your bloodstream. Angel: I didn't know you'd seen City of Fire! Diva: What? Angel: It's a Thunderbirds episode. Monkeys. I am working with monkeys… Diva: I am not a monkey! I'm a llama! Angel: Right. And I'm Thunderbird Two. Diva: That works for me…)
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Stupid muggles. I mean, puppets. No, marionettes. Oh, whatever!"
"I am not a puppet!" Scott screamed angrily, taking an eraser to the very obvious lines above his head and then sitting back in his chair. "Now, Thunderbird Two will be here in two point five minutes…"
(Diva: Here they go again with the two point five thing… Angel: Sigh.)
"…Leaving us only seven minutes to disarm the bomb before it blows up."
"Thanks for the math lesson, Mr. Thunderbird, but I really would like to go back to murdering Ron now. May I?" Asked Hermione.
"No, you may not. Oh, look, here's Virgil now!"
Up comes Thunderbird Two, massive green transporter ship that it is, and flew beside the car, scaring the crap out of Ron.
(Diva: Isn't that one silver? Angel: No, it's green. Diva: Okay, so the third one is the big red thing, the fourth is the submarine, and the fifth is the space station… Angel: That's right, you're learning! Diva: But I thought the second one was silver! In 'Sunprobe', it's silver! Angel: No it's not, it's covered in snow. Diva: It's silver! Oh man, I'm confused… Angel: Aren't we all? Diva: Okay, one silver, two green, three red, four yellow, five satellite! Angel: Right!)
"What the &%^# is that?" He shrieked, seeing Thunderbird Two.
(Diva: Which is green, as we have previously established…)
Virgil dropped the pod with Brains, the slightly geeky know-it-all with hideously large blue glasses, inside. He was working on some new equipment that would disarm the bomb and stop it from blowing up. This, by the way, is a very good thing, because it would be bad if we murdered Ron.
"Excuse me, I have already tried!" Protested Hermione. "But that dark haired jerk in that big silver thing won't let me finish!"
Right. Whatever Hermione. Anyway, it would be bad if we killed those two. What would we tell their parents?
(Diva: Why, we'd tell them that the car blew up. Angel: Oh yes, let's do that. We're sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but because of your anti-theft device, you are responsible for murdering two Hogwarts students. Are you aware of the penalties you will face for this crime? Diva: Crime? Who said anything about a crime? Hey, your computer table is shaped like a kidney bean! Angel: Right… Diva: They're called kidney bean tables when they're shaped like this! I was watching Trading Spaces the other day and they brought in this table just like yours and it was shaped like this and was called a 'Kidney Bean Table'! Angel: Diva, can we check you into the nearest hotel with padded walls? Maybe they serve Salt and Vinegar potato chips there. Oh, and coca-cola too! Diva: Hmm…padded walls, Salt and Vinegar chips, coca-cola…that could work for me.)
Okay, hold on. We are getting so off track here. We're good at that. Anyway, Hermione still wants to murder Ron with her sword, and Ron is scared stiff because of the big green… (Diva: It's silver! Angel: It is not, it's green!) GREEN, I TELL YOU! THE BIG GREEN CRAFT! So yeah, it was scaring Ron pretty darn bad by this point. He was wondering if it could breathe fire. Its nose was certainly large enough…
(Diva: Where is this going? Angel: That's a good question. That's what I'm wondering too. Diva: *is giggling* I don't giggle, okay? Angel: You do so! Everybody giggles. In our last fic, you said the same thing. We are doomed to repeat history here, Diva. I mean, the chair just about collapsed on me…AGAIN. Diva: Does a couple of months count as history? Angel: It does in my world. Diva: In my world, pigs fly. Angel: Right. Well, in my world, the Thunderbird characters are not really puppets. It is very hard to write fics about puppets. Diva: *blink blink* Angel: Back to the drawing board… Diva: Drawing board? Aren't we just going back to the story? Angel: I told you I was working with monkeys! Oh, excuse me, llamas. She's still giggling. Don't listen to her when she says she doesn't giggle. She does so giggle! Diva: I don't!)
Brains, below on the ground, hit the button to disarm the bomb. And, let's play some scary music just for effect, shall we, Diva? So just imagine there's some scary music theme playing, okay? (Diva: Like Jaws!)
But, just for the fun of it and because we said so, the bomb did not disarm! Instead, the car blew up!
BOOM!
Miraculously, the stack of M and M's Harry had left in the back seat of the car blew up first and provided a nice cushion (Angel: You know it's bad when you type kitchen instead of cushion and send your friend into a wild and crazy giggle spree. And dangit, she does so giggle! Diva: I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't!) for Ron and Hermione.
Oh, screw it. They died.
(Angel and Diva: Please excuse us, we are laughing too hard to type. This is what coke does to you in the middle of the night. Diva: It is a combination of caffeine, sugar and lack of sleep. Angel: Nah, we're just nuts. Diva: That works too.)
So yeah, Ron and Hermione ended up buried in melted, exploded chocolate amongst the remains of Ron's parents car. Thus, leaving Angelina and Diva937 to explain what exactly happened to both sets of parents. Thanks a million, guys. Oh, now wait a minute, we still have Scott, Virgil and Brains to help us!
"Uh, no you don't. Grandma's cooking pies again. I think I'd better run home and help her bake!" Scott said, heading off at seven POINT FIVE thousand miles per hour back to base.
(Angel: I have yet again annoyed Diva with this point five thing. *snicker* Diva: I think we should have Jude Law as Sirius in the next Harry Potter movie. I think the casting directors are so stupid…do they actually put actual thought into this? Have they read the books? Everyone has an opinion, and ours is best! They just don't know it yet. Angel: Right. Well, that was random. Now we've really gotten off topic.)
Virgil nodded in agreement, without realizing that Angelina had stowed away on Thunderbird Two, and chased after Scott back to base. Mwhaha. Now it's up to you to tell the parents, Diva, because I'm going back to Tracy Island with Virgil! SCORE!
Diva is whimpering. "But…But…"
Uh huh, but what? Me, I'm smart. I rigged the 'Security Hazard' device so it would not show my presence. Virgil is mine! Mwhahahahaha again!
"Do I need to point out that he's a puppet?"
"I'M A MARIONETTE!" The aforementioned International Rescue agent yelled out of nowhere.
Yes, thank you, Diva. Go and burst my bubble why don't you?
"Oh well, at least he semi-exists in real life."
"I AM NOT A FRIGGEN PUPPET!"
"WE HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!"
"That's it, I'm going to go off somewhere." Diva crossed her arms. "And just leave everybody in the dark. I'm going to go…Hold on, I'm still thinking."
Let's just put on some Jeopardy music. Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do…
(Angel: I'm sorry, Diva is laughing again. I put on 'Cotton-Eyed Joe', which brings back terrible memories of taking dance in phiz ed. Our commentary seems to have died! Why? Because we wrote ourselves in. So sue us.)
Cough cough. Virgil is in denial.
"I AM NOT A &^%ING PUPPET!"
Oooh, what bad role models. They smoke, they drink, and they swear. Tsk tsk.
"Okay, as to where I'm going…I'm going to…" Diva snapped her fingers, still trying to think. "I am going to go to…somewhere warm…" Snap snap snap.
You'll go to Hogwarts and run off with Remus?
"Sure!"
She is very pleased with that idea. Did you guess?
(Angel: Diva is hitting herself in the head. Yes, I told you she was an Einstein. Diva: Not on purpose! I meant to hit my hair and it hurt! Oh yes, I'm an Einstein, thank you everybody! Angel: It is a proven fact that your math marks do not reflect your intelligence level. Just look at her… Diva: Shut up! I can do math, I just can't add or count. Angel: But you can subtract and multiply, right? Diva: I meant to say count, I can add, I can't count. Angel: Well, it came out a bit wrong then, didn't it? I type what I hear! Diva: Well then, you heard wrong. Angel: Did not. Diva: Did too!)
"Where did our story go? Like, what happened to it?"
It went straight down the drain because I ran off with Virgil and you…well, you went after Remus. Remember?
"Oh yeah!"
"I AM NOT A *&^%ING PUPPET!"
"WE KNOW!"
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And that concludes our little um…story. (Diva: No way! This thing is not 8 pages! Yes it is! Wow! Angel: We are so good…*slaps Diva high-five* Diva: *puts hand up for high-five and begins giggling…again* I don't giggle! Angel: Don't listen to her. She's the one that said she was a llama, remember? Don't take her seriously. She does giggle. Diva: Nobody ever takes me seriously! Angel: And for good reason… Diva: I saw that one coming.) We hoped you like it, and if you have not already read our first story, 'Harry Potter and the Hunt for the M and M's', you will go do so because you have a newfound love for us. Right? And a newfound love for Thunderbirds, which will make you want to watch it on BBC Kids on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Well, once again, we are not responsible for any insane or completely loony thoughts or actions that occurred during the reading of our story. Please consult your psychiatrist if these symptoms continue. Or call us, and get the number for ours! :)