Disclaimer—I do not own Harry Potter, Deadpool, or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

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Chapter Three

Feeling sore and just crappy all around, Hermione made her way to her apartment. Gone for a week, she had been busy hunting death eaters for the Department of Mysteries. Slipping into her apartment, she went over to her bedroom and was about to take a shower when she took note of the man lump in her bed. At the sight of the red and black mask, she knew right away who it was.

"Deadpool, why are you in my bed?"

"It's nicer than mine," he answered sleepily.

His logic, she thought, was irrefutable. Quietly she put her things away, going out to the kitchen. She made herself a meal, more than enough for two, and went over to the dining room table. She ate silently, thinking over what had happened in the past week. Death eaters were bad enough, but time traveling ones?

(Absently she turned to glare at the writer, but then sighed heavily and went back to eating when she realized at least said word crafter didn't write it out in painful detail or post it for that matter).

"Where have you been?" Deadpool inquired, as he was serving himself his meal.

"Where haven't I been?" she put back to him. "The writer had me dealing with time traveling bad guys. Three of them. Which wasn't as bad as it could be, but her plot devices were a bit contrived and after a time it just didn't work so she abandoned it and so here I am again." She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully and said, "All in all, time wasted, but I have to say that it was interesting being thought of as a bit of a fem fetal even if the entire story was complete bollox."

"That sounds…boring."

"It was," she muttered. "But the one good thing I got out of it was a new bag for you." She pulled it out of her jacket pocket. Even as she held it out to him, it filled with Chimichangas.

"You're the best, sweet cheeks!" He took the bag from her, pulling out one and eating it. "Excellent!"

"Not that it's any of my business, but what have you been up to?"

"General craziness, talking to myself and all the voices in my head, killing for profit and general mayhem." He looked over to her. "You know, the usual."

A loud bang came from the hallway, making both of them look over in the same direction.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Sounded like a bomb," he told her. "Great things, bombs. They blow up and go boom! I love them."

"I bet," she murmured. "I'll attempt to get you C4 for Christmas."

He rushed over to her, putting his head on her shoulder and cried, "You're the bestest ever!"

"You're speaking to my tits, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah. I just noticed that you have a lovely pair of my favorite girl bits."

"Seeing as I'm a girl, yes I would have those bits. Though I must say many men I know don't speak to them."

"How else would they grow up to be a lovely pair of melons?" he declared.

"The usual way," she pointed out to him. "Genetics."

"Don't you listen to her," he cooed to her breasts. "You two are going to grow up to be big perky boobies, aren't you?!"

Rolling her eyes, she looked over to the door again when someone knocked on it. "Pardon me a moment. There's someone at the door."

Before she could get to the door, Deadpool grabbed her and pulled her out of the way just as the door blew in. He had her head completely covered, even as he was pulling out his katana and had the point at Domino's neck before the woman knew it.

"Whoa!" the woman yelled at him. "It's me!"

"I should kill you for that alone," he growled.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed the blade away. "I have a job for you…"

"Excuse me," Hermione said, getting up and looking at her door that was now in little pieces littering her flat. "Is that makeup or what?"

"I was born this way," Domino said, sounding sour. "Got a problem with it?"

"No, but how you left my door all over my living room that I do." She whipped out her wand and hexed Domino.

Deadpool watched as the sharpshooter known for her luck was spitting up slugs.

He looked over to Hermione. "Remind me never to piss you off."

"I'm sure one of your voices will," she said casually.

"True," he sighed. "I love that I don't have to remind you of that."

"Hard to forget," she replied, looking over to Domino. "Ready to apologize?"

She nodded rapidly.

Hermione took the spell off.

"Sorry."

"It never pays to piss off a witch."

"I thought he was trying to avoid me by being over here. I didn't even know this place was for let."

"Did you even check?" Hermione demanded. "Wolverine knew I lived here. He even got breakfast." She looked over to Deadpool. "If I tried cooking now, someone would end up sick or dead."

"Just say no to cooking angry, sweet cheeks," he told her.

"I'm trying," she assured him, looking over to the other woman. "You were born looking like that? I think that's cool. It makes a statement, but you were still rude. Can you please leave?"

Domino rolled her eyes, muttering, "Shit. You're nearly as crazy as he is."

"No, I'm not," she replied. "I am a different flavor of crazy is all. P.T.S.D. does that." Hermione worried her lower lip. "Out of curiosity, are you by chance a mutant?"

"Yes," she said, now glaring at the witch.

"May I be so bold as to ask you what your gift is?"

Domino blinked at her in shock. "Gift?"

"Yes, mutations are a gift," Hermione answered honestly. "Like magic is to wizards and witches."

"Oh," she breathed. "I'm lucky, can shoot anything well, and skilled at hand to hand."

"Luck? That's a mutation?"

"Apparently," Domino answered.

"I could have used that a time or two," she murmured. "Deadpool…" She turned to see not only was the man gone, but he had taken her breakfast with him. "Apparently, he used our short conversation to leave."

"Yeah," Domino muttered. "He can be such a right bastard that way." She looked over to Hermione. "Sorry about your door, but Cable has been on a tear that Deadpool had to do this job for him. I better get going."

"I would wish you good luck in finding him, but would that be redundant if I wished so to you?"

Laughing she said, "I'll take it anyway."

No sooner was the woman out of the flat did Hermione fix her door and decide to go to bed. She drifted over to the bedroom and don't you know that the bed was missing. Looking at where it had been, she knew without a doubt that it had been her neighbor who had taken it.

"How the hell did he get it out of here without help or me seeing him?" Hermione muttered to herself and went about making herself another bed with bedclothes.

This, she thought, has been a strange two weeks. And something told her that it was only going to be getting odder as the month went.

TBC…

And another chapter has come to its end. Thanks for reading and have yourself a lovely day.