Current mood:	tired
Entry tags:	fic, fic: crack

Yeah, so insomnia. Not pretty!
Someone also should've suggested, of fics I'd never write: if Angel and Spike went through a portal to Hogwarts and came out the other end named Harry and Draco. Right? Are you with me? Can't you just see Spike with Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy and Blaise going like, "So . . . you're the new Scoobs? Do you, like, save the world, free Willie, and watch Bollywood movies, or what? Guys? I can be into that."

Crabbe kinda looks at his shoes and scuffs them a bit, whereupon Goyle puts a hand on his shoulder, furrows his brow, bucks up his courage and says, "Actually, Draco, we're miniature Death Eaters."

"So . . ." Spike furrows his brow as well. "You're zombies? Or do you just . . . bite dead people? 'Cause, I can be into that, too."

Blaise rolls his eyes. "We follow the Dark Lord, he's evil, we want to wreak havoc and mayhem and hurt people we don't like. Capiche?"

Spike waits a beat. "I can be into that."



Pansy, looking concerned, leans over to him. "Look, Draco . . . we might not even know the Dark Lord's evil. We might actually be following principles and beliefs instilled in us from a young age, so we can't really be faulted as much as might superficially appear. Plus, you spent all of the sixth book being little and tragic and people wanted to feed you sandwiches."

"Sixth season, you mean?"

"What? Anyway, the point is, you do Bad Things, but I think you're possibly a bit of a misunderstood woobie."

Spike looks around. "Look, how many times do I have to say, I'm totally into that?"


Meanwhile, Angel is looking in a mirror, trying to push down his hair. "Okay, this is from going through the portal, right?"

Ron shrugs. "It always looks like that."

Hefting a book, Hermione continues with what she had been saying earlier. "Harry, while I look through here for more information about the Horcruxes, it might save you some time if you could work on destroying the locket."

"I don't get it," Angel says, still pushing down his hair.

"What's not to get?" Hermione says. "It obviously takes something powerful to destroy a--"

"No, I mean why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Angel asks. "Look it's--"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "You look great, Harry."

"Oh, I like that!" Ron suddenly shouted. "Why are you always saying he's so fanciable, anyway? Why don't you two--"

"Oh come off it Ron! And yes I'm still writing to Krum!"

"So I get that you're Wesley," Angel told Hermione, "but I don't think he's Cordelia, and seriously, why am I so scrawny? I don't remember being this scrawny. And my hair! It's sticking up!"


Meanwhile, Blaise is saying, "Draco's really eating this up, innit."

Goyle opines, "He should get Obliviated more often."

Pansy looks disgruntled. "Next time he does pulls a Lockhart I hope he doesn't talk with that accent. Where is that from, anyway? From no part of London, I swear, not even the Muggle parts. 'Cause we all know Muggles can't talk right," she adds, in case Draco is listening and hasn't had his anti-Muggle prejudice Obliviated away.

Crabbe is eagerly showing Spike wizard photos, which Spike is thinking about arranging in a series to tell a convoluted soap operatic story, having learned that there are no televisions about. Bloody waste of a mansion, if you ask him. Stopping in the midst of flipping through photos, Spike lets out a low whistle. "Who is that? Please say it's the savior of the world, and that she and me're sworn enemies, and that she hates me, and--"

"Uh, no." Pansy steps up. "The savior of the wizarding world would be Harry Potter. And you're right, he does hate you, and you did swear to be his enemy. Except he didn't swear back, he sort of slagged off the blood ritual swearing thing you arranged. I expect he never actually received your invitation."

"Probably had a better appointment with the Dark Lord." Blaise snickered.

"Harry Potter, huh? So he's a bloke?" Spike shrugs. "Cool, I'm into that. What's he like?"

"Well, he struts around, thinks he can do anything, just because he's the Chosen One and all."

"Still so into that," Spike murmurs, because obviously he's still thinking about women who saved the world a lot and not magnificent frollicking sods who think they can do anything because they signalled Buffy with their eyes, Christ.

"He never even took the time to know you." Pansy sniffs. "He just wanted to believe you were a twerp because he's such a lamebrain himself. And he's a dork, and everyone thinks he's so dark and handsome because he can get all quiet and moody and completely broody, which is just a play for attention if you ask me. Plus his hair sticks up."

"Not into that! Not into that!" Spike waves his arms helplessly before throwing up in his mouth a little.

Blaise, observing coolly from the edge of the group, says suspiciously, "And despite your amnesia, your disdain for Potter's as wildly excitable as ever. Such a surprise."

Crabbe takes the picture Spike was still clutching in his waving hand.

"Yes," Spike says, catching his breath, realizing he actually needs to breathe in this body. "Yes. Who is that? The blonde! Not any bloody, hair-sticking uppy, fucking--poof."

"We've often opined as to how Potter might be a poof," Pansy says knowingly.

"Her!" Spike demands, pointing at the picture. "Her! Her!"

"That," Crabbe says placidly, "is your mum."

"My . . ."

"She loves you very much," Pansy says.

"Plus, she's hot," Goyle puts in.

Blaise just has to offer his observations, too. "And there are all those rumors about how close you two--"

"Not into that." Spike has dropped the photo and now has his head buried in his hands. "Really, really not. Why does every dimension have to bloody torture me?"


"Why does every dimension have to torture me?" Angel wants to know. "It won't stay down." He keeps pushing at his hair, trying to comb it. "It really really wont."

Hermione slams the book down. "It's magic or something! It's always been!"

"Really?" Ron carefully skirts around Hermione to peer interestedly at Harry's hair. "Is that why it's like that? Hey, d'you think he might have a bit of Metamorphmagus in him? Like Tonks?"

"My hair . . . is magic?" Angel looks in the mirror and begins to smile. "Cool. I'm totally into this."

*

Obviously, I need sleep.

edited because I'm still awake