Disclaimer: This is just a bit of fun. I am making no money from this. The Discworld and its related characters all belong to Terry Pratchett. (Since this story's in the Harry Potter section and I've made up spells similar to the ones found in those books, I suppose I should also point out that anything created by J. K. Rowling belongs to her and not me.)

A/N: I should warn you that there won't be much humour in this chapter; I had to set a few things up for later, though, and when I tried to inject a little humour in here it seemed rather strained.

Chapter 3

Mission: Impossible

There should have been a buzzing feeling humming through her skin. There should have been a light so bright that she had to close her eyes because of its strength. There should have been chaos and noise and swirling colours enough to make a person nauseous. What there in fact was, was a bit of a blur and a sudden impact.

Her last thought before the world went black was Isn't this disappointing?

. . . . . . . . .

Geillis awoke, and promptly wished she hadn't. She felt as if she'd been trampled by a troll. I didn't exactly think that the trip would be little more than a tickle or something, but I didn't think it would hurt this much. Merlin, after I find Severus, I may never want to go back to Hogwarts. Remind me never to go cross-dimensional travelling ever again unless they somehow manage to improve the landing process.

William Blake was right. To generalize is to be an idiot. How the hell am I going to find Severus?

Groaning, she let her head fall back to the ground. She'd sleep for awhile, and hopefully by the time she woke, her body wouldn't rebel so much at the merest suggestion of movement.

. . . . . . . . .

She was awakened by the sensation of something poking into her ribs. "Esme?" said a voice, sounding slightly worried.

"Wstflgl," said Geillis, turning over slightly.

There was a slightly shocked pause, and then the voice said, "Bloody hell. You ain't Esme."

"Er, no," said Geillis. "Whoever she is, unless something's badly wrong, I am definitely not Esme. My name's Gaerwing—Geillis Gaerwing. And who the hell are you?"

The other woman pursed her lips. "My name's Gytha Ogg, girl, but most people call me 'Nanny' or 'Mrs Ogg'. And p'raps you should explain to me why you're dressed like a witch, 'cos you sure ain't one yourself; I know all the witches in Lancre, and you ain't from around here."

Geillis suppressed the urge to groan as she gingerly sat up. "I'm from a long way off," she said.

The other witch raised an eyebrow. "How far?" she asked, sceptically.

"Farther than you're ever likely to have gone, madam," said Geillis dryly.

The other woman's face went hard. "I don't know about that, miss, 'cos I've been pretty far in my life. Now, why don't you tell me how far you've come from?"

Geillis sighed. "I'm afraid I don't really know, Mrs Ogg. For all I know, I've jumped here from an alternate universe. All I know is that a very good friend of mine got sent here somehow, and I've got to bring him back home."

"Cor," said the other witch, her face growing momentarily puzzled as she took all of this in.

"But wait a minute," she finally said. "I ain't sure you're a witch. How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"Believe it or not, Mrs Ogg, I am a witch. Here, I'll prove it." Geillis stared at the other witch's hat. Without saying a word she waved her wand and the hat exploded.

"My hat! Now see here, girl, that hat cost me twelve dollars, and this is the second time this year that someone's done this to me. That's twenty-four whole dollars, gone with the flick of a wrist—"

"Please, Mrs Ogg, wait a moment," Geillis said. She took out her wand, made a flick and circular motion, and said, "Capello reparo". The hat jumped back into its original shape, as if it had never exploded.

The older witch took her hat off her head and examined it carefully. When she was done, she said, "Well, Miss, I still ain't sure where you comes from, why you're here, or even if what you just did is proper witchery. But I knows another witch—strange as she may be—when I sees her. Welcome to Lancre. Now, let's see what Esme says about you."

. . . . . . . . .

They walked along a dirt path, up a hill and around to a cottage that didn't look so much like it had been built as it had grown—the thatch was so old that it was sporting some very young trees. There was a sign which said, "Caution—Herb Crossing", and the leaves of the willow tree swayed gently in the breeze.

But there was, in fact, no breeze.

With a mutter of "I hope she's not out Borrowing," Nanny knocked on the door.

"Borrowing?" asked Geillis.

"Borrowing the minds of animals," Nanny explained. "I've never been much good at it meself. I was a rabbit for three days once before she came and fetched me back. Lucky she did that—if she hadn't, I reckon I never would've been back. I'd have been stuck as a rabbit for the rest of my life—if I still existed."

Geillis nodded, and the door swung open.

"Esme" turned out to be another elderly woman, tall and thin, with a nose that even Severus might envy. She wore her hair in a tight bun at the base of her neck, and her pointy black hat was pinned to her head with numerous hatpins. Note to myself, thought Geillis. Never, ever, ever get on this woman's bad side.

Not that she looked as if she had any other kind.

"Wotcha, Esme," said Nanny. "This here's Geillis Gaerwing, a witch from a long way off. I found her lying on the ground not far from here—thought she was you."

Granny Weatherwax looked at Geillis with a piercing azure stare. Now Geillis knew what it was like to have her soul read; as hard as it was, she kept herself from blinking or looking away. Finally, Granny nodded. "How far off are you from?" she asked, softly.

Geillis had heard this tone from Severus many times before their friendship had begun. It was not friendly. "I'm not exactly sure," she said calmly. "It could be another world or another universe entirely. All I know is that I'm here and I have to find a friend of mine, who was sent here in the course of a magical accident."

Granny raised an eyebrow. "An accident?"

Geillis sighed. "He's a wizard. He and another wizard were duelling, and when Severus—my friend—sent a banishing spell the other wizard's way, the other wizard blocked it and sent Severus somewhere over here. With the help of a friend I cast a spell which allowed me to follow him into the general area where he landed, but general locations being general, I have no idea where the hell he is. He could be anywhere on this world. All I know for sure is that I'm here and he isn't. Oh, and that I have a bloody huge headache from my landing. You wouldn't happen to have anything that might help me, would you?"

A slight smile crossed Granny's face. "Well, I got some suckrose and akwa around here somewhere…"

Geillis gave her a puzzled look. "Sugar and water? What would I want that for?"

"Well, mostly I use it for foolin' people that needs it. Welcome to Lancre. You need a place to stay?"

What was Geillis to say to that? After a moment, she settled for "Actually, yes, please, that might be nice."

"There's a cottage nearby what needs somebody in it. Last one was an old fairy godmother called Desiderata Hollow, maysherestinpeace. The decorations are a bit odd, but I reckon you'd feel right home in there."

"How's that?"

"You're a bookish sort. Not many others'd know what suckrose and akwa are. Actually, I'd have tole you about Magrat's old cottage, but there's a wizard livin' in there right now, studyin' the stone circle an' whatnot. Name's Ponder Stibbons. You're bound to see him sometime."

. . . . . . . . .

Geillis stepped through the doorway of the cottage and took out her wand. "Lumos," she said, and a light appeared at the tip.

"Cor," said Nanny Ogg. "How'd you do that?"

"Just something I learned in my student days," Geillis replied. "Where I come from, witches and wizards learn to do that sort of thing. And the wizards aren't usually as daft as you say the ones from Unseen University are—well, most of them aren't, anyway—"

"There are exceptions?"

"Oh, yes. There's a famous author by the name of Gilderoy Lockhart. He appears to have gotten by simply on lies and his face; many women have such astonishingly poor taste that believe his looks are uncommonly good. I have the misfortune of being one of his teaching colleagues—actually, he's the one whose spell sent Severus away. I had to go into his office one afternoon to deliver a message, and you wouldn't believe what I saw."

"Really?" Nanny leered.

"No, nothing like that, Gytha," Geillis laughed. "I simply meant to say that except for a very small bookshelf which merely held his complete published works, every space that wasn't covered in pictures of him was covered in mirrors."

"Even the ceiling?"

"I didn't dare look."

"Ah, sounds sensible. Anyway, what else d'you do with them wand things?"

"Well, you saw me fix your hat—sorry about that, by the way; it's usually the quickest way I have to convince people in a hurry that I am who I say I am—and there are plenty of other spells that we do with these. They say that the four founders of the school where I teach built the castle—the school building is a castle—in a fairly short time using the power of their wands."

Nanny nodded. "I reckon it comes in handy at times," she said, "what with that forest you was talkin' about." After Granny had given her a real headache remedy, she and Nanny had insisted that Geillis tell them about Hogwarts and what life was like there.

"Now, Geillis, let's have a look around."

Desiderata Hollow had been a rather odd woman; Geillis could see this right away. There were few people even in this world who would mix a fair-sized library (for a Ramtops witch) with stuffed animal heads, a display of foreign weapons, a spear in the umbrella stand, and watercolour pictures.

"A bit eccentric, was she?" asked Geillis. "Oh, my—what happened to this mirror?" she asked, seeing the fragments on the floor in front of her.

"Esme smashed it last year," said Nanny. "Never tole me why, but I reckon it was because of her sister, who used mirrors to spy on people. Shouldn't be any danger now, though—Lily Weatherwax is dead, or at least something like it."

Geillis was intrigued by the oddness of this comment, but decided it would be better not to ask, thinking it was better to say "I take it that they weren't exactly close?"

"Downright hated each other, they always did—I remember when we was all gels, and Lily and Esme used to be at it hammer and tongs all the time. Lily always had plenty of friends, though. Made 'em from animals—snakes, toads, cats, you know."

"Sounds like she was pretty good at transfiguration, then." Geillis pointed her wand at the empty mirror frame and said, "Specchio reparo." The glass jumped back into the frame, welded together as if it had never been broken.

"You know," Nanny said, "You're going to have to teach me a few of those. Do all the witches use 'em where you're from?"

"Well, most," Geillis admitted. "What do witches 'round here do?"

"It's mostly headology," Nanny told her. "Some magic, like the brooms—you've got a real nice one, I notice. If you're into healing, there's some o' that, too; it's normal village witchery. If you ain't real fond of it, then just give 'em a bottle of flavoured water an' tell 'em they're to take it twice a day 'till the problem's gone. Most people'll think 'emselves 'ealthy again. If it's serious, though, send 'em up to Magrat at the castle. She's Queen, now, but she ain't above a bit of witchery if you arsk nicely. Unless you're Esme, of course. Then she expects to be tole."

"Er, thanks for the advice," said Geillis. "Well, I think I'll set about making this place liveable again. Thanks for your help, Gytha."

"No problem," said Nanny. "By the way, you one of 'em fairy godmothers?"

"No," said Geillis. "Why do you ask?"

"It's only, you've got that wand," Nanny replied. "Witches 'round here gen'rally don't use 'em unless they're fairy godmothers."

"Back home, witches and wizards usually do use them," Geillis explained. "They help us to focus the magic that we use."

"Cor," said Nanny. "Well, I'll be off, then. Ask me if you need anything."

Geillis smiled. "I will. Thank you very much."

When Nanny Ogg had gone, Geillis turned to the cottage.

If she were going to live here, even if it were only for a few weeks, she had a lot of work to do.

. . . . . . . . .

A/N: Well, here we are again. =) Thanks to bookofdays, chickens and excessivelyperky for reviewing. And chickens, I would indeed recommend that you read some of the Discworld books. They're hilarious, and Pratchett somehow always manages to stick a point in there somewhere between the jokes.

P.S. excessivelyperky: I could well imagine Molly Weasley as an Ogg, and I look forward to reading "Widow's Walk". =)

The chapter title is of course the name of a movie (or perhaps two, considering that it was re-made a few years ago). I rather like the theme song, but I've never actually seen the movie.

The reference to William Blake comes from his "Annotations to Reynolds' Discourses". I heartily recommend reading it if you possibly can; Blake certainly had a talent for well-aimed zingers, and it shows through wonderfully in "Annotations". Besides, I find his ideas on the criticism of art to be quite interesting.

The "maysherestinpeace" isn't a typo. Pratchett has Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg say it several times when somebody refers to a deceased witch.

"Capello" is an Italian word meaning "hat", and "specchio" means "mirror". I don't really have access to a good Latin dictionary (the one I do occasionally consult didn't have either of the words I was looking for), so I used my rather limited knowledge of Italian instead.

By the way, the description of Desiderata's cottage is a modified version of its description in "Witches Abroad"—which, by the way, happens to be the first Discworld book I ever read.

Finally, I apologize for the fact that Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg seem a bit out of character. I've been reading the Discworld books since I was about thirteen, but when I wrote this chapter I hadn't quite figured out how to get into the mindset of the various Discworld characters. It gets better later on—or at least I think it does, anyway.