| Summary: | In which a man just wants to visit his woman. |
|---|---|
| Source: | “I Know What You Did Last Night” by thegirlnextdoor. WARNING: link leads to AdultFanfiction.org. |
| Continuum: | Harry Potter. |
| Timeline: | 2011. |
| Published: | March 28, 2011. |
| Rating: | PG-13/T - Ladyparts doing improbable things to each other. |
| Betas: | Data Junkie, Caddy-shack, and Neshomeh. |
The halls of the PPC HQ were quiet. No one cursed at a console. There was no one running for the nearest bottle of Bleeprin. It was a quiet day. It was very strange. More importantly, it was boring. The halls were bored. That may have been why the one person moving in the hallways was hopelessly lost, and had been for the last three hours.
“This sucks,” he mumbled to himself. He was a tall man with shaggy brown hair. He sported a two-inch-wide beard under a slightly down-turned mouth. As he trudged down the halls, his unbuttoned black shirt flapped a little in his wake, revealing the black sleeveless shirt he wore beneath it.
The man was not used to navigating the passages of HQ. He had never visited the PPC before. He was only here now to see his fiancée in the Archives.
He continued walking, wondering why there were no doors in this hallway. Eventually he came to an intersection and had to decide which way to go. He didn’t really believe that it mattered which hallway he chose, but he looked down each in turn. The first two passages were gray and empty, much as the man had expected. When he turned down the third he saw that, way down at the next intersection, there was another black-clad person. This was the break he had been waiting for.
He began walking as the mysterious figure disappeared around the corner. The man called out, hoping to be heard. He started running, desperate to catch up. When he made it to the point where he had seen the other person, the man looked down the hall and saw a flutter of black turning a corner down the hall—whoever he was chasing must have been running as well.
The man took off down the hall, determined to catch whoever he had seen. As he ran on at full speed, he barely registered that someone called out back in the direction he had come from. He was focused on the person in front of him. He quickly made it to the next intersection and turned. The person he had been chasing was standing a short distance down the hallway, with their back to him. He ran toward them, not wanting them to get away before he could ask for directions. The sound of his footsteps must have warned the person that he was there, because the stranger began to turn. The man stopped short when he got a look at who he had been chasing. He was looking at himself.
“Uh . . . ” began the man.
“Yeah . . . ” said the other guy.
“So . . . ?” the first one attempted while pointing back the way he had come.
“Awkward, I know,” said the doppelganger. “Believe me, I know.”
“Right.”
“And that would be my cue to leave,” explained the one who had been chased. “At least, that’s what the last guy said.” With that, he turned and ran down the hall and around the next corner.
The man was, of course, slightly taken aback. Not knowing what to do, he walked a couple of steps toward where the other him had disappeared. He would have gone further, but at that moment he heard footsteps coming up behind him.
A short time later, the man took his own cue and made his escape. He was thankful to see, when he had rounded the corner, that he was nowhere in sight. The man was even more relieved to see a door about thirty yards down the hall. He weighed his options and decided that whatever was in that door was probably preferable to being lost in the hallways for the rest of his life.
When he reached the door he noted that it didn’t have any markings on it. Just to be safe, he knocked before he tried the knob and was so overjoyed when he heard a female voice say Come in that he didn’t even notice that it had bypassed his ears entirely. He opened the door and came face to leaf with a Flower. The man wasn’t sure which flower it was. He was not a horticulturist and could not identify the cluster of white blossoms.
Ah, you must be the new agent that has been assigned to my detail, said the Flower. You are late. Your partner has already been sent along on the mission.
“I . . . um . . . but . . . ” said the man as the Flower continued. He was unable to find the time to tell this Flower that he was not an agent.
Now, I assume you were given all of the gear you will need except for this. The Flower snaked out a leaf and stuck a flash patch onto the shoulder of the man’s shirt. It depicted a three-eyed rubber duck. The Flower then pressed a button on her desk which opened a portal. Good luck, Agent.
The man then found himself being pushed through the portal while still trying to voice his objections. On the other side, the man found himself standing in the Gryffindor common room. He noticed that his clothes had been replaced with black robes with the Ravenclaw crest on the breast.
“You must be the new guy,” said a voice from behind him. “What’s your name?”
The man turned and saw the woman who was evidently his partner. She was a little on the short side, with red-gold hair that was close-cropped. She also wore black robes, but hers had a Slytherin crest on them.
“I’m De—um . . . ” began the man before realizing that his real name was probably not the right one to use in this case. “You can call me Bar—” he tried again, before realizing that this alias wouldn’t work either. The man knew that there was already an agent running around with that particular name.
“Deum Bar?” asked his partner. “That’s kinda lame.”
“Sorry,” he said embarrassed. “I guess Phobos will do.”
“Are you sure?” she said, almost mocking. “You could try again. Fourth time’s the charm, I hear.”
“I’m sure,” said the newly dubbed Phobos. “Who are you?”
“Agent Decima, Department of Bad Slash,” she said, her voice inferring a salute.
“Yeah . . . about that . . . ” he mumbled. “I’m not an agent. I’m a civilian who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t have any training, weapons, equipment, or idea what I’m doing.”
Agent Decima blinked twice while staring at her impromptu partner. Then, shaking her head, she muttered something under her breath that sounded like a promise of violence directed at one Flower or another. When she looked back to Phobos she said, “Okay, listen. You are here and I have a job to do, so I can’t send you back right this moment. You are going to keep out of my way and not touch anything, am I clear?”
“Yes, of course,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to screw up a mission. I’ll just follow you around and you let me know if you need me to do anything.”
“Not likely to happen,” said the redhead, removing a wand from a pocket that was sewn into her sleeve. “You see, this is my turf and I know how to handle myself.”
“So, you’re a native?” asked Phobos. “Why do you sound American?”
Decima sighed. “My original author had no grasp of the Queen’s English. Now, can we please get on with this? I am not babysitting you forever.” Without waiting for a reply, Decima turned and walked to the staircase up to the girls’ dormitories. She began to climb the steps without looking back at Phobos.
Phobos got to the foot of the stairs and stopped. He knew about the ban on boys in the girls’ dormitories. He also knew that he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to keep up with Decima. He took one hesitant step onto the stairs and waited.
Nothing happened.
He took another step. And another. He kept taking steps until he had caught up to Decima, who seemed to have caught up with Hermione. Phobos was about to comment on the state of the stairs when he heard “a slight panting and moaning coming from the sixth years girls dormitory.”
Hermione had stopped to peek in the only door on the floor, with Decima staring over her shoulder. Phobos, being much taller than the two women, had no trouble seeing over them. He quickly found the source of the commotion. Ginny’s bed curtains were open and, because the door was open for some reason, she was clearly visible from the stairwell. She was naked and experimenting with a little self-love.
Phobos was taken aback, to say the least. It took a moment for his brain to reboot so he could see the problems in the room. “Shouldn’t there be other people in here?” he asked Decima. “I thought the students shared rooms.”
“Yeah,” she answered as she wrote in a small notebook. “Five to a room, as far as we know. Ginny seems to have gotten an inexplicable single, though she does appear to be sharing it at the moment. Do me a favor and go grab the spare.”
Looking back into the room, Phobos noticed that there was, indeed, a spare Ginny. Unlike the first Ginny, this one was wearing her Gryffindor robes, had black hair, and was smoking a clove cigarette. She practically exuded dislike and non-conformism.
“How—” he began before being cut off by Decima.
“Our host doesn’t know how to use apostrophes. I’ve seen the Words. We can expect more guests. Now go retrieve her so we can get on with this.” Decima was obviously not in the mood to hang around the stairwell watching Hermione watch Ginny diddle herself.
Phobos quietly sneaked into the room so as not to alert the currently naked version of Ginny. He was also doing his best to pretend she didn’t exist. He was not sure this was the sort of situation he should be involved in. He definitely would not be telling his fiancée about this . . . if he ever found her.
The darker Ginny was watching her redheaded doppelganger, who was moaning “oooohhh Mione….” She took a lazy drag from her black cigarette and shook her head.
“Um, excuse me,” Phobos said politely. “Could you come with me for a moment?”
“I guess,” said Gothic!Ginny disgustedly. “I can’t believe she’s into the bookworm. Ugh. She is such a prep!”
They moved back to the stairwell where Decima was waiting by herself. “Hermione left,” she said. “Didn’t want Ginny to know she saw her, apparently.”
Goth!Ginny sighed dramatically and took another puff of her cigarette.
“So where do we go from here?” asked Phobos as he waved clove smoke out of his face. “And what do we do with this Ginny?”
“We’ve got nothing to do until tomorrow morning. I suggest we head back to the common room and get some sleep. I call the couch.” Decima started down the stairs, leaving her temporary partner and the spare Ginny to follow her.
In the common room, they set up camp. Decima used her wand to create a pillow and blanket for herself before going to sleep on the couch. Goth!Ginny took the darkest corner of the room for herself. The glow of her clove cigarette picked her out from the surrounding gloom. Phobos used his overshirt as a pillow and went to sleep near the fireplace.
Phobos was woken from nightmares of endless hallways by a none-too-polite combat boot to the ribs.
“Get up,” Decima said as she dropped a shrink-wrapped cinnamon bun on his head. “We’ve got work to do.”
Phobos looked from Decima to his breakfast. He then heaved himself into a sitting position. He began to unwrap the bun, but then he noticed the non-gothic Ginny emerge from the stairwell. Decima motioned for him to grab their resident goth and follow. They caught up to Decima and Ginny outside of the public bathroom. Phobos busied himself with eating the cinnamon bun, so it was only when Hermione showed up that he noticed that neither she nor Ginny were wearing more than bra and panties.
“I’m no expert,” he whispered to his partner, “but I think that is probably not normal attire to be walking around the school in.”
“For the canon, no,” Decima explained as she wrote in her notebook. “For some fics, you’d be surprised what passes for ‘walking around’ clothes.”
He turned his attention back to the girls in time to hear Hermione invite Ginny to the Prefects’ bathroom so they could take a bath together. As the agents and their gothic sidekick followed the pair through the halls, a thought struck Phobos.
“Wait,” he said. “If Ginny is a sixth year, that would make Hermione a seventh year, right?”
“Yeah,” their Ginny chimed in moodily. “So?”
“So, Hermione should be shacked up with Ron and Harry in some forest somewhere,” answered Decima as she pulled her notebook and quill out again. “I can’t believe I missed that one. Good work, rookie.”
By the time Decima finished writing the charge down, they arrived at the Prefects’ bathroom. The trio slipped in just before Hermione closed and locked the door. Hermione proceeded to get undressed. There was a pause for a couple of moments as Ginny gave her a rather too thorough eyeballing.
”Well aren’t you going to get naked so I can see you?”
Ginny was shocked she smiled and said
“Well, ok if you really want to see me, my figure is nothing compared to you though”
“Oh I think that you are very sexy under all of those clothes trust me”
”Are you saying you have seen me naked, or are you just guessing?”
”I saw you lat night Ginny”
“You did, and you aren’t mad?“
“Hell no. I’m turned on. Why do you think I asked you to bathe with me? Now take off your clothes!”
Agent Decima wrote furiously while muttering to herself about getting a Quick Quotes Quill.
Phobos just talked to himself, trying to figure out what was going on. “So, she didn’t want her friend to know that she had seen her, but she tells her exactly that at almost the first opportunity? And what does she mean, ‘under all of those clothes’? She isn’t wearing any real clothing.”
“Not to mention,” said a voice behind Phobos, “that she is being very forward.”
He turned around to find that their one extra Ginny had become two, and they were now balanced by two extra Hermiones. It was one of the Hermiones who had spoken.
“It is disgraceful,” she said from atop an actual soapbox. “She has no right to make such demands of that girl. In fact, I am going to start an organization to put an end to . . . .”
Phobos stopped listening as Soapbox!Hermione droned on. He had a feeling that this was going to be a long morning. He turned back to the action of the fic in time to see Ginny take off her bra and panties “in a heartbeat,” which resulted in an explosion of fabric. What followed was the most unusual kiss that Phobos had ever seen.
She ran up and kissed Hermione passionately on the lips sliding her tongue into Hermiones mouth. Hermione threw her tongue out and it collided with Ginnys in a display of passion. The two tongues battle for several seconds until Hermione pulled back causing Ginny to moan in disappointment.
“Dear lord!” cried the shocked Phobos as Hermione literally threw her tongue at Ginny. “Was that really necessary?”
“No,” Decima replied without even looking up. “If it were necessary, we wouldn’t be here.”
”Hermione… I want you inside of me.”
The silence that followed Ginny’s declaration was broken by Soapbox!Hermione. “It is atrocious that you are all shocked by this! What kind of world do we live in when a woman can’t even declare her desire to . . . what are you doing? Aghh!” This last was due to a different, very irritated-looking Hermione casting a Full Body-Bind on her.
This new Hermione (of which there were now five extras) glared at the stunned faces around her. “I had . . . to stop . . . her preaching,” she growled. “Do any of you have a problem with that?” She brandished her wand at the crowd.
“Nope,” said Decima as she turned back to the action. “If you want to keep the rest of the peanut gallery in check, be my guest. Hey, Phobos, check this out.” The Bad Slash agent pointed to the target pair. Hermione was pushing Ginny into the wall of the bathroom.
“You don’t see that everyday,” replied Phobos. “Not that I’d want to or anything. I wonder how they are doing th—where did they go?” Phobos had blinked and found himself staring at an impression of Ginny’s rear end in the stone of the wall.
“Over there,” Decima informed him. “The author apparently forgot to describe them getting into the water before detailing them getting out of it.”
She grabbed one of Ginnys smooth legs with both her hands and pushed her up out of the water, Ginny used her hands to position her self on the edge of the bathtub.
“That looked awkward,” noted Phobos. “There has to have been a better way than heaving on one leg like that.”
Decima chuckled a little. The chuckling ended abruptly as she looked at the Words. “Seriously?” she said. “Hermione is looking at Ginny and can ‘see how wet she was’? No crap! She was just in the water! Oh, look. A small pool of juice is forming between her legs. Because she is turned on? Maybe. Because she was just in the freaking water? Definitely! Good grief, these people astound me.”
“Yeah,” agreed Phobos, “not a very effective measure of arousal in this situa—oh, frell! That is not natural.”
The agents watched as “Ginny put her hands on Hermiones head pushing her face deep into her vagina.” The scene continued for another couple of minutes, during which the agents tried not to look too closely at what was actually going on. Then the pair of Hogwarts girls decided that they wanted to go back to “Hermiones room for some fun.” The problem with this plan was that Ginny had lost her panties. They decided that she should borrow Hermione’s for some reason.
“Well, we did see them atomize earlier,” said Phobos. “It’s no wonder she can’t find them.”
“That is beside the point and you know it, rookie. Now let’s go.” Decima turned to gather the clones from the fic only to be confronted with a small army. Thirty-three clones stared at her, or they would have if half of them hadn’t been in the Full Body-Bind. “What happened?”
Gothic!Ginny stepped forward. “Well, you told that one,” she pointed to the perpetually irritated Hermione, “to keep them in line. There were a lot and they were pretty annoying, so I helped out.” She shrugged and took a drag on her cigarette.
“Ugh!” groaned Decima. “Well, keep them here, we’ll be back for them in a while.”
Quoth the goth, “Whatever.”
“Phobos, come on. It’s time to end this.” Decima led the way back to the girls’ dormitory. Outside of Hermione’s bedroom, she stopped to get prepared for the exorcism. “You ever done anything like this before?” she asked.
“No, they didn’t cover this sort of thing in the Theatre Department.”
“Theatre, huh? Well, that means you know how to make noise, right?”
“I can be loud when I need to be, yes.”
“Good. You be really loud and yell things like ‘avaunt.’ I’ll handle the rest. Ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad!” Decima pulled her wand from her sleeve and burst into the room. The scene that greeted the agents was so eye-wrenching that it took a moment for them to realize what they were actually seeing.
Hermione was straddling a handcuffed Ginny’s stomach. She had apparently started licking at Ginny’s neck and moved all the way to her crotch without moving from her position on Ginny’s torso. Hermione was putting many a contortionist to shame.
“For Merlin’s sake!” cried Decima. “That is the last straw! Rookie, start making some noise.” Decima waved her wand, directing several pieces of chalk to draw an intricate ring on the floor.
Phobos, unaccustomed as he was to exorcisms, began quoting Shakespeare at the top of his lungs. “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York!”
Ginny and Hermione were shocked and horrified not only to be discovered in a compromising position, but to be assailed by a large man spouting Richard the Third. They attempted to react to stop whatever was going on, but Ginny was handcuffed to the bed and Hermione was contorted to the point of being useless.
Decima’s chalk finished the binding ring and she pulled a large, leather-bound book from her pack. “Right! Let’s get this done, shall we? LUMOS!” The tip of her wand erupted in a piercing white light. “Phobos, give me something with a little more ‘avaunt’ in it, please.”
“Um . . . ” Phobos faltered as he scrabbled to find an appropriate passage in his repertoire. Richard the Third came to his rescue again. “Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone!”
A mist poured from the two students. It swirled and coalesced into a vaguely human shape.
“Very good, rookie!” Decima called before she turned on the wraith, brandishing the book like a crucifix. “Heed me, spirits of bad slash! Get thee behind me, spirits of horrible punctuation and awkward description! Leave this place, physical impossibilities! The power of ROWLING compels you!”
“Out, damned spot!” Phobos was fast running out of useful quotes to hurl at the wraith. He hoped that this didn’t go on much longer. He was beginning to grow hoarse from shouting.
“Leave these girls and go back to the ether from which you came!” continued Decima.
The wraith detached from Ginny and Hermione, who had long since passed out, but it did not go back to the ether. It began to move slowly toward Decima, who backed away. The author-wraith continued to close with the agent. It came up against Decima’s binding-circle and was held by the invisible field it generated, but only for a moment. The wraith’s eyes began to glow and it slowly pushed through the barrier with a laugh. “Your faith in these tools is weak, witch,” it taunted in a voice like the essence of all things glittery. “You cannot hope to hold me.”
Decima’s back hit the wall and she glared defiance at the wraith. This was a mistake. When her eyes met those of the wraith, they took on the same glow. Her jaw went slack and the hand that held the leather-bound book slowly lowered.
Phobos broke off his litany and lunged for the wraith. He was too slow, however, and the wraith grabbed the book from Decima and threw it at his head. It collided squarely with his face and he was knocked from his feet.
Her partner taken care of, the wraith turned back to the ensorcelled Decima. She would make an excellent host.
“EXPELLIARMUS!” shouted Phobos, who had regained his feet while the wraith’s back was turned, as he “pulled a Carrot” and threw the book at it. The book hit the wraith center mass.
The wraith wailed and began to collapse in on itself. There was a rush of air into the core of it. Decima regained her bearings and crouched against the pull of the vortex. A different noise arose from the stairwell. Phobos had to throw himself to the floor to avoid being hit as the Ginny and Hermione clones were sucked, screaming, into the wraith.
As quickly as it formed, the wraith vortex dissipated. The agents looked around warily before standing up.
“Remind me to never do anything like that again,” said Decima as she brushed dust from her robes.
“Ditto,” agreed Phobos as he dabbed at the blood that was running from his nose. “Books hurt.”
“Well, let’s get things straightened up around here and get out.” Decima walked to the bed and unhandcuffed Ginny. The agent stuffed the handcuffs into her pack and tucked Ginny under the blankets, trusting the return of canon to restore her to her proper room. After a quick memory charm, she moved on to Hermione. “We’ll need to drop her in the Forest of Dean before we can leave, but let’s get her some clothes first.”
A short time later, a portal opened in Decima’s RC. Decima and Phobos stepped out and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well,” said Phobos as he stood there awkwardly. “I should get going. Gotta find the Archives.” He turned toward the door and stopped. “Oh, you’ll probably be wanting this back.” He indicated the DBS flash patch on his shirt.
“Nah,” said Decima with a dismissive wave. “We’ve got plenty of those lying around. Besides, you earned it, rookie. Look me up if you ever want to give it another go.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think one mission is enough. I’m not doing that again.” He opened the door, but Decima stopped him.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said. “That thing with the book and the disarming charm . . . how did you come up with that? You aren’t a wizard. You’re not even from that world. How did you know that would work?”
Phobos shrugged. “I didn’t know it would work. It was just something I saw a Doctor do once.”
Decima looked confused. “Doctor who?”
To be continued . . . .
Will Phobos ever make it to the Archives? Where will the hallways take him next? And who was that mysterious Doctor? Find the answer to at least one of these questions in the next exciting misadventure of Phobos!
Thanks to Data Junkie, Caddy-shack, and Neshomeh for beta-reading.
EDIT (7.31.2013) - Correcting an erroneous assertion that there are usually four students to a Hogwarts dorm room. The only example we have in canon (Harry’s dorm) gives us five to a room. Kudos to Hieronymus Graubart for pointing that out.