Lost in Harry Potter
by 80sarcades

Last chapter! Thank you for reading my story; reviews -- any reviews -- are appreciated. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: Does anyone actually believe that I own Harry Potter?

Chapter 5: Showdown, Part Two: J.K. Rowling's Revenge

"Would you like some tea?"

I look up to see a blonde woman looking over at me, tea set at hand. I wouldn't say she needs plastic surgery, but she does score pretty low on my cute-o-meter. Still, I'll play along.

"Sure. Do you have some sugar and milk?"

"Of course." She prepared a cup and handed it to me. Warm tea really does wonders. She motioned me to a seat while I looked around the room. It screamed 'rich' and 'tasteless' at the same time.

So just where the hell am I? Fortunately, the blonde was reading my mind. Creepy.

"You may be wondering where you are," she said. "For starters, do you know who I am?"

I wisely refrained from asking her if she was Mrs. Cougar 2009 and decided to play it safe. "No. Should I?"

"You may have heard of me. My name is Joanne Murray," she explained. At my blank look, she added "J.K. Rowling."

"Oh, yeah. Ok. The Harry Potter books," I said. Geez, this gets weirder and weirder. You'd think with all that cash she'd have better hair. Oh, well. I sipped my tea as she continued.

"I've brought you here because you've been mucking around in my books. Can't have that, can we?" Her voice took on a harder tone while she gave me a stare worthy of Minerva McGonagall. I ignored it.

Besides which, who uses 'mucking' in a sentence? You never hear anyone using it on this side of the pond. Unless they replace the 'm' with an 'f'.

"Well, look," I said. "I was just improving upon it. I mean, in the seventh book you have the kid traipse around England before he does in Voldermort with an Expelliarmus spell. My way is much better and much more satisfying, you know. And that thing with Ginny…"

While I talked, I saw her lips grow thinner and thinner until there was only white skin. Not a good sign, but my mouth ignores that too.

"…you really should have gotten Harry laid with Ginny by at least the seventh book, but no, he has to go out into the forest to die without getting lucky…"

"Enough!"

Ms. Rowling's voice was like a sharp snap, shutting me up instantly. She eyed me with a glare.

"Because you have interfered, you have caused me to lose millions since the last three books were never published. They are my books after all, and a children's book at that! By what right do you have to change it?" she angrily asked.

"Um…because it was there?" From the look in her eyes, I can tell that is not a good answer. Instead, I try a different tack. "Look, lady," I began slowly, "I didn't ask to be sent there, but I took care of things the RIGHT way. Besides which, don't you already have a ton of money? What more could you possibly want?"

"You stupid fool," she sneered. "I can draw out the story, giving hints that tantalize my readers and cause them to line up at midnight drooling to buy my books.(5) I can give interviews and savor the publishing rights. As for the money, I need more of it to finance my habit."

Strange, she doesn't look like a druggie. Or a nun. "Uh…your habit?" I warily asked.

"Of course. I require my bed sheets to be changed six times a day, with the finest silks.(6) Servants to cater to my every whim. And now…I'm going to have to fix it all, and take care of you," she ominously said. She reached inside a nearby drawer and pulled out a slender wooden wand before pointing it at me. Naturally, I said the first words that came to mind.

"Are you nuts?"

Ms. Rowling merely smiled and pointed the wand towards a nearby chair, levitating it before smashing it to bits with a Reducto curse. She then leveled the stick at me.

"Why, no, of course not," she said, smiling sweetly. Or evilly. Take your pick. I decided to take the high road and raised my hands, hoping that I looked at least a little repentant.

"Ok, I think I got the message. Don't mess around in your universe," I said in a small voice. Unfortunately, she didn't buy it.

"Of course. However, I think in your case I need a more…permanent…solution for you," she said way too calmly for my tastes.

"Ok, then send me home. I promise I'll never mess around again." Hopefully, I sound sincere enough/ This lady is crazy enough to whack me.

Ms. Rowling let a little high pitched cackle escape from her lips. For a moment, she reminded me of Umbridge.

"I don't think so," she finally said. The finality in her eyes convinced me.

"Listen, lady," I said, growing desperate. Just where is the door, anyway? "People will miss me. I have friends. I have a liquor store that I go to every morning!"(7)

She still looked unconvinced.

"Ok, so I messed up. I thought I was doing the right thing…" I said in apology.

"And now I have to do mine," she interrupted, raising her wand; my heart froze. "Expello ut Abyssus."(8)

For a long minute, her face stretched down a dark tunnel before everything went black.

Next thing you know, I'm staring at a green cursor. A blinking green cursor, attached to an antique computer that was state of the art when Pac-Man was around. Looking up, I hear a soft 'tick' as a clock with white and black numbers reads 106:00.

Looking around, I see more junky equipment in a familiar room. A room I've seen before, although from the other side of the TV. And if I'm here, then I must be…

I ran a hand over my head, feeling only bare skin. Yup; I'm John Locke. Could be worse, though. At least I'm not Doc Shephard.

Well, this is just great. I'm lost in Lost now, a fricking TV show! Why couldn't I have landed on Baywatch? At least the scenery there was much more interesting! At least I landed here before they blew the Hatch; I don't fancy living in the jungle, thank you very much. Suddenly, a new sound startled me.

"Are you going to talk to him, John?"

The voice from behind me comes from a Middle Eastern man. Sayid, I remember Cool guy, but a little vicious for my tastes. I got up from the chair and stretched while I thought of a plan. As usual, I played along and hoped for the best. What could go wrong?

"Yeah. Is he still…" I let the question hang while looking at the other man.

"Yes," the other man replied in a cold tone. With his attitude, he'd have a splendid career working for the IRS. I nod my head.

"Let's go," I said, waving my hand for him to go first. I followed him to the armory door. Oh yeah, I remember this episode; this was where Henry Gale…aka Benjamin Linus…was staying before being 'questioned' by Sayid. He opened the door and started to go inside before I stopped him.

"Let me have five minutes alone with him, ok?"

Sayid gave me a questioning look, but said nothing as I walked past him into the small room. He pushed the door shut and left us alone. Meanwhile, I looked into Ben's watery eyes. Dangerous eyes.

"So, what do you want now, John?" he asked me in a calm voice. "Come to ask me some more questions?" Guy looks like he always is in control. Forget that. I don't fancy spending the next few years here, so time to play bad cop.

I lean against the wall and relax for a moment. "Not really, Ben. All I want is some information."

Ben's eyes widened slightly in curiosity, but he said nothing. I continued.

"You may be the leader of the Others, living in your fancy compound on the other side of the island, but I really don't care about that. All I want to do is to get off this island," I said in a calm voice.

"And what makes you think I can do that, John?" Ben's voice turned a little darker while he tried to control the conversation. Screw that. I'm in charge here.

"Because I know you can," I stated flatly. "Plus, the quicker you can tell me how to get to the Looking Glass complex, the better."

"Looking Glass?" Ben asked, playing innocent. His face told another story. He'd be lousy at playing poker, you know. Too may tells.

"Yeah, the one that controls communications with the outside world. That little complex beneath the sea, you know. Ordinarily, I'd just take the sub and escape; but I don't think I can run it by myself." Not to mention your buddies would kill me before I got that far, but I didn't mention that as I continued.

"By the way, how's Richard Alpert doing? Guess he's running things in your absence, huh? Then again, he's probably been doing that for a long time. Really long," I emphasized the last word; seemed to hit home. The more he's off balance, the better.

When Ben finally answered, his voice was a bit shaky. "I don't think I can do what you want, John," he finally answered. "This island…" He stopped, looking really lost. Pardon the pun.

"Of course you can," I smiled evilly as I twisted the knife. "By the way, your old Dharma buddies are still in that pit, aren't they? You know, the ones you had gassed? Want to go see them?" I asked. For the first time, his face showed an emotion.

Fear.

In the end, I never had to lay a hand on him and I wouldn't have had the stomach to do so anyway. I escaped the island. Of course, there was that little incident where the island disappeared, but who cared? Would have happened eventually anyway. Meanwhile, I'm safe; I resolved never to be lost again.

At least, not until the producers of Lost find me.

A/N:

(5) I was one of those suckers when the last book -- Deathly Hallows -- came out. Before that, I did mail order.

(6) This was actually a requirement of Madam Chiang Kai-Shek when she visited the White House in 1943; she brought her own silk sheets from China and demanded that they be changed several times per day.

(7) Another RDA line, this one from the Simpsons. Did I mention that Richard Dean Anderson is cool?

(8) Latin for 'banish to hell' if I have the translation right.

Thank you for reading; reviews, of course, are appreciated!