Disclaimer: Not mine. And I'm sure as hell not getting any money for this.
Six: Hello, My Name is Demonterius
-
Yet again in an indescribable place, two people were sitting on a bench. Yet again, one was a young boy – the other was male, but besides that, also indescribable.
"Hey," said the boy, "aren't you the Author?"
The other glowered at the boy. "Yes."
"And didn't we already do this back in Chapter 3? Didn't this chapter start out the exact same way, just with two 'yet again's added in there this time?"
"Yes."
"Huh." The boy scratched his head. "Why are we sitting on a bench? Couldn't we, you know, be on a rollercoaster or something fun like that?"
"No," said the Author. "This is much more serene. And besides, being on a rollercoaster would mean that I would have to write something besides dialogue, like a description of the setting. Everyone knows how much I hate doing that."
"Ah." The boy did something right here before he spoke again (the Author doesn't like having to write actions or setting or any of that crap). "Why are we here again? Does this mean that this chapter has taken an insanely long time to post?"
The Author nodded. "Yes."
"Why'd it take so long?"
"Oh, you know. A computer crash, a faulty memory system of another computer, etc, etc."
"You could write by hand," the boy suggested.
"I could, but I'm lazy and that would require effort," the Author pointed out wisely.
"Oh. Well. Anyways. What do we do now?"
"Wait for the scene to change."
"And when will that happen?" the boy asked.
"Dunno, whenever I feel like writing the next chapter," answered the Author.
"Oh." The boy fiddled around with something or other at this point for a few minutes – I don't know, let's say he watched a bird fly about around them or something like that – and finally turned back to the Author. "Feel like it now?"
"Not really."
"Okay." Several seconds passed. "Now?"
The Author glowered at the boy again. "This is going to get really annoying, isn't it?"
"Yep."
"Damn it all." The Author sighed. "Fine. End scene."
- - -
After their discussion with Pierre the group made their way over to the Wotcher Wolvie base, which was no small feat in itself. Voldemort deflected any bullets coming their way, while James and Sirius Transfigured any rockets into something less dangerous. Originally Peter was helping as well, but he ended up Transfiguring a rocket into a nuke, which caused a scare amongst the group. Fortunately, though, they survived to see the rest of the chapter.
The man that had been yelling at Pierre was in a recliner with a beer in his hand, watching a football game on TV. He glanced at them once and sighed.
"I thought I'd see you all over here," he said. He took a sip from his beer can. "What d'you want? I'm watching the game."
"We need someone's help," Hermione responded. "We're trying to find someone, and the only way to do that is to stop these wars. We need to find someone who can help us."
He turned back to the game. "Good luck with that."
"You know," said Draco suavely, "we're the characters of the actual series."
"So?" the man replied. "What do I care? I don't read. I'm just here for the alcohol."
"Amen," agreed Sirius.
"I read, though," said a girl, probably seventeen or so. "I'm Samantha. I'm General of the Wotcher Wolvie army. Are you all really the characters?"
"Yep," replied Voldemort. "Look, I'll prove it."
He deftly Transfigured the man into a pig. Samantha nodded her approval while Peter clapped overenthusiastically.
"I see. Well, how can I help you?"
"How can we stop these wars?" James asked.
"Damned if I know." She sighed. "It all started with the Herons and Harmonians. After HBP, though, the Pumpkin Pie army was crushed. The wars stopped for the most part, and the Herons took control of the fandom. Recently, though… some of the remaining Harmonians have gone fanatical. Most of them are pretty normal, but some… they're crazy. It doesn't help that the Herons are practically dictators. They've installed a completely anti-Pumpkin Pie regime. The Harmonians started picking off the top-ranking Herons, though, and then everything went to hell."
Remus nodded. "So you're saying that if we get rid of the crazy Harmonians and bring down the Heron regime this will all stop?"
"Yeah," Samantha said. "Probably."
"Okay." Harry rubbed his hands together and smirked. "Show us who we need to bring down. We're ready."
- - -
Fifteen minutes later they were all huddled around a table and looking at a large map of the convention center.
"Okay, so we're here in the south quadrant with the Wolfstars to our west," she said while many of them took notes (not Peter or Ron, of course). "Up in the middle there's not much, just some of the minor ships. That's the main battlefield for the Herons and Harmonians, though – the Herons are to the east, the Harmonians to the west. The Chocolate army's mostly in with the Good Shippers – the Herons, that is. To the north are the nonmilitant Herons and Harmonians, along with some of the minor ships."
"Got it," Voldemort replied, nodding. "Anything else we should know?"
"Not really. The slash shippers worry me, though," Samantha admitted. "They're all pretty fractured right now, with the exception of Wolfstar, but if they all banded together against the het shippers it could get pretty ugly. From what my scouts tell me that could happen pretty soon here – Wolfstar's trying to get them involved so they have backup against us. You need to stop this quickly, or else everything's just going to go to hell."
"Okay." Harry shifted to the right, making a loud noise – he was now wearing a leather outfit that looked like something out of a bad superhero movie. "I think we're good to go. If there's nothing else, let's head out."
After several minutes debating, they finally decided to split up into two teams. Voldemort would lead Team Tommy, which consisted of James, Ron, and Sirius, and Harry would lead Team Scarface, which consisted of Peter, Remus, and Draco. For strategic reasons Peter and Ron were kept on separate teams (if one could nearly kill them all by Transfiguring a rocket into a nuke, imagine what two could do!), and Hermione was left out of it completely.
"But I can persuade them to stop!" she argued angrily. "I'm the one they're fighting over!"
"Precisely," said Remus. "They might end up taking you hostage. As annoying as you can be, that's a risk we're not willing to take. If anyone's going to be taken hostage, it's going to be Draco. He's even more annoying than you are."
"Hey!" protested Draco. "It's not my fault I'm better than all of you!"
"Right." Remus sighed. "Team Scarface will take down the Harmonians, and Team Tommy will take out the Herons. Harry should give us some credibility with the Pumpkin Pie army, and Ron should do the same with the Good Ship army. Once we've got their trust this should be a piece of cake."
Voldemort brandished his wand threateningly. "And if something happens, we can always kill all of them in cold blood."
"Yes. That too."
So our two teams split up, with Hermione staying back at the Wotcher Wolvie base and pouting like a two-year-old. We shall start our narrative of the battle with Team Scarface, because Scarface comes before Tommy in the alphabet and for some reason that seemed important to the Author when he wrote this.
"I'm scared, Harry," whined Peter as they crept behind a large wall of rubble.
"So am I, Peter," Harry admitted. "But there comes a time in a man's life when he has to suck it up and bring down a terrorist shipper regime. It's just part of life."
"I don't think that happens to most people," Remus pointed out. "We just happen to be part of an extremely poorly written parody."
Right at that moment there was an explosion and Draco screamed out fearfully.
"No! My hair! My beautiful hair!" he yelled. His hair was now on fire. "Put it out! Oh God! I put so much work into that! PUT IT OUT!"
Remus did, and Draco felt his hair gingerly.
"There goes that perm I just had," he muttered to himself irritably. "Next thing you know I'll break a nail and I'll have to go get another manicure."
"Ooh, ooh!" Harry exclaimed gleefully, clapping his hands together. "Can I go with you?"
"Me too!" Peter said, no longer scared.
Remus held his face in his hands. "Oh sweet merciful Jesus."
HAHAHAHA, REMUS LUPIN. THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR SAYING THIS IS EXTREMELY POORLY WRITTEN. TRY IT AGAIN, BIATCH. SEE WHAT HAPPENS.
"No, I think I'll pass."
DAMN STRAIGHT.
So anyways, the brave Team Scarface crept along behind a bunch of rubble for some time, avoiding confrontation like the courageous bunch of pansies they were. That's not to say that it was an uneventful trip – quite the opposite, in fact. Peter alone nearly managed to kill the group with a faulty spell no less than three times (a new record – usually at two times someone took away his wand). Shortly after this debacle they came upon someone.
"Look, it's someone!" said Peter.
Or should I say… something.
"No, it's something!" said Harry.
Just kidding. It's someone.
"Look, it's someone!" said Peter.
"Aye, that I am," replied someone. She had a long mane of dirty hair that nearly covered her face, and she was hunched over almost to the point of walking on her arms and legs. "The name's… actually, I don't remember me name."
"Bummer," remarked Draco.
"Yeah, it is." She sighed. "I guess ye can call me Prudence of Gottlyhem. Dunno what it means. Sounds nice and noble though."
"Very well, Prudence of Gottlyhem," Harry responded. He stood up straight and struck a valiant pose. "You see, we are on a quest, my dear Prudence –"
"A quest to find the Holy Grail!" Peter interjected.
"Red! No, wait, blue!" added Draco.
"If there is a God in heaven, please, just kill me now," Remus begged.
I CAN DO THAT TOO, YOU KNOW.
"Don't worry, I know."
ALL RIGHT. JUST CHECKING.
"Anyways, as I was saying," Harry continued, "we are on a dangerous quest. A quest that has never before been attempted… a quest that will probably end in the deaths of several members of our team (although those deaths will probably be temporary)… a quest to end all quests."
Prudence of Gottlyhem grunted curiously. "And what would that be, lad?"
"We are here to bring down the Harmonian regime!" he exclaimed nobly and justly.
"Ah, ye won't want to be saying that around me!" she hissed. "I'm a scout for our noble Harmonian government!"
"Oh. Damn." Harry affected the most charming smile he could muster. "Did I mention that I'm actually Harry Potter? I'm not even dressed up as him or anything! Look!" He turned Draco into a ferret and beamed at her. "See?"
"That's mighty impressive," Prudence of Gottlyhem admitted. "I guess I can forgive ye. Why, I'll even make a deal with ye!"
"Really?" asked Remus. "And what would that be?"
Prudence of Gottlyhem grinned. "If ye'll use some of yer magic for my purposes, I'll give ye access to the Harmonian leaders!"
"And what are your purposes?" Draco the ferret piped up in a squeaky voice as Peter giggled.
"I need ye to get me –" she leaned in conspiratorially and lowered her voice "– I need ye to get me a big box o' chocolates. I've got a mad sweet tooth, I do."
Remus blinked. "Er… fine, then. Chocolates it is."
"I'll do it!" Peter offered. Draco the ferret bit him in the shin and he cried out, and they were spared from Peter's shoddy wandwork, which would've led to certain death.
"No, I'll do it," Remus said. "Here you go."
A box of chocolates appeared in Prudence of Gottlyhem's hand and she lept up excitedly. "Merlin, ye've done it! I've got me very own box o' chocolates!"
"And now your end of the deal," he reminded her.
"Aye, I was just getting there, lad." She suddenly leapt upward with superhuman strength, grabbing the edge of a slab of concrete and beckoning for them to follow. "Come!"
She continued hopping from broken wall to broken wall as they walked behind her. Every few moments she would begin talking to herself in a low voice and cast a suspicious look back at the group.
"No, my precious," they heard her hiss. "We won't lets the filthy hobbitses take my chocolateses. We won't use the correct form of the plural either, my precious."
"Haven't I seen this movie before?" Harry asked as Prudence of Gottlyhem lept onto the remnants of a stone pillar.
"I read the book," Remus replied.
Suddenly she let out a guttural roar, and a frightened squirrel (don't ask how a squirrel got into a convention center) shot out from behind a wall. She grunted at it as it scurried away and bared her teeth fiercely.
"I think I saw my aunt Bellatrix do that once," Draco the ferret commented, bouncing along beside the group.
"I've seen Remus do that," Peter said.
"Wow, way to keep the whole werewolf thing a secret, Peter," Remus stated dryly. "Thanks. You're a real pal."
Prudence of Gottlyhem turned back towards them. "Quiet, hobbitses! We are upon them!"
They walked up behind where she was crouching, and they saw that she was telling the truth.
"I have delivered you where I promised to take you," she breathed as they gazed at the camp. "The gateses of Mordor."
"The Harmonian camp, you mean," Harry said.
Prudence of Gottlyhem threw him an irritated look and began hopping away, muttering to herself ("Stupid hobbitses…").
"Hey!" Remus called out. "Where are the leaders?"
She sneered. "They're the ones sitting on the thrones, idiotses!"
She soon disappeared into the darkness and they were left on their own.
"Well," remarked Remus as he turned back to face the camp, "I must say that I feel much safer now that she's gone. And I won't have to worry about blatant abuse of grammar anymore."
"Me want food!" Peter blurted out suddenly. "Me is hungerly! Me is starvingly!"
Remus sighed. "Never mind."
The king and queen of the Harmonian camp were stationed, as Prudence of Gottlyhem had said, on their makeshift thrones. The group snuck up to them as covertly as possible, and on further inspection, found that there was no king and queen of the Harmonians – only a queen and another queen dressed in boys' clothing.
"Oy! You lot, there! What d'you think you're doing?" A rough-looking teen boy approached them, chewing a large amount of gum obnoxiously. "That's the king and queen of us Harmonians! You can't just go walking up to them without clearance!"
"First of all, it's two queens, not a king and a queen," Remus pointed out. "And second of all, I just happen to be Remus Lupin, while this is Harry Potter."
"Right!" scoffed the boy. "And I'm Lord Voldemort!"
Peter shrieked in fear at the sound of the name. "No," said Harry brightly, "he's infiltrating the Heron camp on the other side of the convention center."
The boy made an odd face. "Huh?"
"Never mind," stated Remus. He sighed. "But seriously. We really are the characters. Watch." He turned Draco the ferret back into Draco the human ("Haha! Victory at last!") and then back into Draco the ferret again ("Ah, bugger all…"). "We've done that demonstration once today already, don't make us do it again."
"Good one," the boy admitted. "Very well, then. I'll get you some IDs."
"Couldn't you just let us go by?" Draco the ferret asked. "I mean, they're right there."
"No," the boy replied, shaking his head, "we've got a very strict system set in place here. Very strict. Don't you worry, though, I'll be back in a jiff."
A minute later he returned with a permanent marker and –
"Name stickers?" Harry asked skeptically. "This is your strict ID system?"
"Yep. Very strict." The group spent the next few minutes writing their names on the stickers, and Harry handed the boy the marker. "Good. Now, I'll be off. Keep those stickers on!"
"Merlin," Remus breathed, turning around to the rest of the group. He stared blankly at Peter. "Peter, I think you misspelled your name."
"Nope!" Peter said happily.
"Really? I didn't know it was spelled 'Rtepe.' Interesting." He looked to Harry. "What in the name of Merlin is that?"
"My new name," Harry stated. He puffed out his chest so the sticker could be read more clearly. It read:
Hello, my name is: DEMONTERIUS.
"Demonterius?" Draco the ferret asked.
"Yep. Like 'Imperius' and 'Demonstration' put together. Very unique."
Remus just shook his head. "You know what, I give up. Whatever."
New IDs in hand (or on chest, rather), they approached the queen and gender-ambiguous king.
"Your majesties!" Harry cried out dramatically, swerving into a deep bow. His glasses fell off of his head, and he put them back on as gracefully as he could without coming out of the bow. "I am Demonterius, also known as Harry Potter! This is my humble company of traveling vagabonds!"
"What's a vagabond?" Peter whispered confusedly.
Remus shrugged. "I know what it means, but I didn't know we were vagabonds. That's news to me."
"I think he just likes the sound of the word and doesn't understand its meaning," Draco the ferret added, his furry chest puffing out importantly.
"Silence!" announced the queen (not the king one, either). She did not rise from her seat – instead a number of servants dragged her onto her feet for her and held her in place while other cooled her off with fans. "You claim you are Harry Potter – I see no scar! Show me your proof!"
Harry stared at her. "Um, the scar's right here," he said, pointing to his forehead, where the scar was on display quite clearly.
"Oh." She coughed and was subsequently force-fed a cough drop by a servant. "Well… anyone can have a scar! Show me your magic!"
Draco the ferret leapt upwards fearfully. "No!" he shrieked in a squeaky voice. "Not again!"
"Fine." Harry pulled back his wand and began looking for another target, but was interrupted by the queen.
"Aha!" she cried. "You can't do magic! You're hesitant because you can't do it! I KNEW IT!"
"What?" Harry protested furiously. "I was just about to, but Malfoy chickened out so I was thinking of something else to do –"
"Don't try your tricks on me, trickster!" She was in a rage now. "The king and I have seen your kind far too many times before."
Remus stepped up towards her. "You do know that's not a king, right?" he asked, gesturing to the king-queen, who hadn't really been paying attention to the conversation. "That's just a girl dressed in boys' clothing."
"Nonsense!" the queen exclaimed. "Susan is a king! He told me so!"
King Susan winked at the group mischievously.
"King Susan?" Remus said incredulously. "Wasn't the name kind of a red flag to you?"
"That's what she said!" Peter piped up gleefully.
There was a momentary silence in the camp as everyone stared at Peter.
"Wow," Remus breathed.
"I second that," Draco the ferret agreed.
"Hot damn!" Harry exclaimed.
Peter lit up. "That's what she –"
"Oh God no," Remus cut him off, nearly begging now. "Please. I don't care, kill me now. I can't take this anymore."
"Ahem." They looked up at the queen, who appeared quite scandalized at the fact that a conversation had gone on without her involvement. "Now, if you're done insulting my husband, I would prefer it if you leave. Go on, now. Shoo!"
"Let's take care of her now," Harry whispered to Remus. "Nice and easy. A quick curse, show her who's boss."
"No," Remus said sagely, shaking his head.
"Why not?"
"The chapter's not quite long enough yet," Remus explained. "We need a higher word count."
"Oh. Right."
"You know," said Draco the ferret, "we could always kill her now and then switch to Voldemort's story. That way we get to kill her and we get our high word count."
"That's not a bad idea, actually. But I think the Author has other plans for the resolution to this conflict. We'll just go ahead and switch over right now. We won't kill her…" An evil glint came into Remus's eye, and he glimpsed upward in a sinister fashion. "Yet."
-
The boy blinked.
"Again?" he asked incredulously.
The Author examined his fingernails with a bored expression. "What do you mean?"
"If there's an Interlude that means that the chapter's taking forever to write."
"That's just silly," the Author said. "Every chapter takes long to write."
"Your last update was in December of 2006! You've had two Interludes in one chapter!"
"Well, this fic's not easy to write, you know." He coughed. "And I'm lazy."
"I think it's more of the latter than the former," said the boy.
"Shut up, you." The Author had a sudden look of realization, and he smiled. "Actually, keep talking. If I can get my word count up with your useless babble then I'll feel like I've actually accomplished something by having another one of these."
The boy stuck out his tongue and crossed his arms, refusing to talk.
The Author sighed. "Very well. I guess I'll just have to start describing scenery and crap now that you're not being cooperative."
He looked about the area. It was a nice place, with nice things around. The air was nice. If you took a deep breath your lungs would get filled with the nice air. The bench was quite ordinary. Ordinary wood, ordinary metal. Not too bad for sitting in. The ground –
"Oh screw it," grumbled the Author. "I hate describing things."
The boy grinned, and the Author scowled at him.
"Very well. Back to the story."
-
Team Tommy struggled right out of the gate. First of all, Ron for some reason was put in charge of navigation. This led to several disasters: at different times they ended up on the roof on the convention center, a polar ice cap, and an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean (don't ask).
Second of all, James and Sirius were constantly pulling pranks on the others and flirting with random girls. Snape even appeared out of nowhere just so they could torment him with several jinxes and tricks (involving green hair, a pink dress, and an interpretive dance). All of these things must happen in a standard Marauders fic, of course. There was even an OC named Tara McDonaldson who Sirius would fight with, both having combustible personalities. Of course, they both fell in love, but alas, she then fell for Snape, and they ran off together into the dark recesses of the convention center, Snape dancing along giddily in his tutu.
"That was a rather ridiculous paragraph," Voldemort pointed out. "I mean, that was just stupid."
Listen, I'm really too tired to kill a squirrel right now or even use caps-lock. So whatever. When I get some energy, you'd better watch out.
"Sure, whatever you say."
You'd better believe it, buster.
They were just walking along peacefully – only a few explosions here and there, really nothing that major – when someone stopped them.
"Halt!" the person exclaimed. It was a girl with a snobbish expression and blood red lipstick. "Who goes there?"
"Tis I, Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort replied triumphantly. "Or Tommy, as I am also known."
"Do you think I'm a n00b? I'm not going to fall for that one." She sneered. "And the rest of you?"
"James Potter, Sirius Black, and Ronald Weasley," James said.
"Suuuuuuure you are. And I'm Hermione Granger."
"No you're not!" Ron said. "She's waiting for us back at the Wotcher Wolvie camp."
The girl blinked before regaining her composure. "Mmhm, sure, sure. Prove it, then!"
"Oh, come on!" Sirius moaned. "This has already happened like 8 times in this chapter! Give it a rest already!"
"You couldn't! I knew it!"
"We can! Look!" Voldemort produced a colorful bouquet from his sleeve. "There! Magic!"
"Any half-hearted parlor magician can do that!" She smirked. "I'm a Good Shipper! I'm too good for your lies! I sneeze in your direction! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!"
James shook his head. "What the hell is with these people?"
"Fine!" Voldemort roared, hoisting his wand far above his head. "I swore once to never kill again, although I violated that vow just last chapter! I didn't want to violate it again, even though it's pretty much moot now, but still, I fear I must! Die, die, die, you elitist bastard! Avada kedavra!"
"Tommy! No!"
It was too late. A bright beam of green light shot out of Voldemort's wand, jettisoning towards the Snob. Closer… closer… oh dear me, closer still… the Snob recoiled in fear…
Just before the beam hit the Snob, it stopped. The group stared in collective silence.
"The hell?" Voldemort asked disappointedly.
They soon saw what had happened. Lying on the ground was a dead squirrel. It had clearly jumped in the way to save the Snob's life. That or it had appeared suddenly because the Author was too lazy to think of anything else.
"A squirrel?" Ron said quizzically.
I TOLD YOU, VOLDIE. AND LOOK – ALL CAPS! BOOYAKASHA, BIATCH.
"Damn it," Voldemort sighed. "He's back."
YOUR FACE!
"Touché."
THANKS.
The Snob looked around fearfully. "What the hell was that?"
"Just the Author getting revenge on us," Ron said casually. "No big deal. It happens all the time. Anyways, I think we've proven ourselves."
"Yes, you have," she replied. She poked the squirrel with her foot; it didn't move. "That squirrel's pretty dead."
"Yep," agreed Sirius. "So, anyway, we need to find the Heron camp. Can you help us, then?"
"Or else," Voldemort added threateningly.
The Snob smirked once more. "Of course. I'm the leader of the Herons!"
"Really?" Ron exclaimed, his face eager. "I'm Ron Weasley! You must be a big fan of mine!"
"Meh, really, I think you're a bit of an idiot. But you're a sweet idiot, and you go great with Hermione. Besides, being part of the Good Ship is the popular thing to do. Only idiots would go against canon!"
"Hey!" Sirius said. "There's nothing wrong with the occasional fanfic where I come back to life or never die or whatnot! Those are great fics! Very realistic!"
"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."
"What's your name, then?" James inquired.
She crossed her arms smugly. "I am Snobbola. I'm the most diehard Good Ficcer you'll find! Not anything like those delusional Harmonians. Delusional! So delusional!"
She shuddered suddenly, as if the very thought of Harry and Hermione together made her soul die just a little bit.
"Delusional?" asked James. "That's an interesting word choice. You could've also said idiotic, foolish, foolhardy… but you go with delusional. Very interesting. Any place you got that from?"
"I think it was popularized on some big Harry Potter fansite," Snobbola replied, shrugging. "There was a big controversy. Added some more fuel to the fire between us and the Harmonians."
"How are things between you and the Harmonians?" Voldemort asked.
"Not good," she said with a scowl. "After HBP we took control of the fandom. Things were good between us. We implemented a very fair all-Good Ship, no-Pumpkin Pie policy – really, you'd think we had violated their rights or something by the way they reacted! They went crazy! They've brought down at least ten of our leaders in the past few weeks! I'm the 6th Executive Minister we've had!"
"Gee, I wonder why," James muttered. "Usually totalitarian regimes are so popular."
"Yep," agreed Ron dumbly. "That's why the superpowers of the world installed them during the Cold War, only to fight against them twenty years later!"
Everyone stared at him for a moment.
"Well, thanks for the history lesson, Ron," Voldemort said.
Ron beamed. "No problem."
"Anywho," said Voldemort, "we kind of need to get rid of you. You see, we're trying to find this crazy dude who wrote a crazy parody involving us. And the only way we'll be able to do that is if we end these wars and get the convention back to how it used to be. So if you'd just dissolve your regime and disappear and never be seen again, we'd really appreciate it."
Snobbola rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Let me get this straight – you're looking for the Author of a fic you're in?"
"Yup," replied Sirius. "But the part with you and your regime was really the more important part of all that."
Snobbola ignored him, and instead began muttering to herself. "Interesting… possibly… could it be?" She looked to them. "Have you interacted with him before? In the fic, I mean."
"Not physically," said Voldemort. "I mean, we've talked to him through narration a bit, but we haven't actually met him. But there've been a few interludes so far where he's talked with a nameless boy, usually whenever it's taking him forever to write a chapter."
"Very interesting," she murmured. "Self-insertion, perhaps? That would explain their arrival… the Deletion Squad will have to know about this…"
"Yes, very fascinationg," Sirius agreed impatiently, "but we're kind of in a hurry to end this war between you and the Harmonians. Just step down from power, we've got some friends who are taking down the Harmonians as we speak."
She smiled suddenly, and a chill ran down everyone's spine. "Why should I do that? I don't really see how that benefits me in the least."
"It benefits you a ton!" argued Voldemort. "You see, this way you don't get cursed, and we don't have to waste our time thinking of the best way to jinx you. It's a win-win situation, really."
"I still don't see why I should step down. You could try to curse me, but I doubt it would be successful." She smiled sweetly in a way reminiscent of Umbridge. At this point, every reader began to hate her just for being compared to that very unpopular character. "Go ahead and try, though. This should be entertaining."
Voldemort sighed and rolled up his sleeves. "You do not know what you ask of me. Very well; I think a bit of baldness and a few unfavorably placed warts should fix your attitude."
He raised his wand to curse her, but before he could, he let out a yelp of pain.
"Ow! What the hell was that?"
"What?" asked Snobbola, even more sweetly. She was now holding what looked to be a small joystick.
"That – ow! Hey, watch out for the valuables!"
"Oh God, that's not something I needed to think about," Sirius moaned. "If at least he would stop touching –"
"Damn it! Again!" he growled. He glared at the joystick. "What the hell is that, anyways?"
"Just a gift from the Deletion Crew," she replied, pressing it once again and eliciting another yelp from the former Dark Lord. "You aren't the first characters to have escaped from canon, so they prepared me for such a situation."
"We're not the first?" Ron asked.
"Hardly." Voldemort shrieked, and began doing an uncomfortable dance around the group. She sighed. "I wouldn't worry about it, though. Things will be set right soon enough."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" James said.
"Your Author will be taken care of for his transgressions," she stated, still smiling. "And then the Deletion Crew will delete you, and canon will be saved. Don't worry, though – I've heard it's not too painful."
There was a silence amongst the group as they digested this new information. Voldemort broke it with another scream.
"Damn it, will you stop that! I get the point – ah, damn it! Curse you! Curse yo – DAMN IT!"
Snobbola just grinned and pressed the button again.