The Waiting Room

The Waiting Room

“Merlin’s beard, Draco! You’ve been through the wars!” Hermione exclaimed, and it was true. The blonde Slytherin stumbled into the Waiting Room, a deep purple bruise marring one white cheek. He shrugged, winced at the action, stepped onto the doormat and in a heartbeat his skin was flawless once more.

“I’ve had a terrible day,” he stated in a rather conversational tone. Snape knew a cue when he heard one, and asked the question Draco wanted asking,

“What happened?” The boy threw himself into a chair with a harsh sigh, rolling his shoulder as if it still pained him.

“My father,” was all he said, eyes closed. Everyone winced. It was well known that certain fanfic authors liked to excuse Draco’s less than friendly actions towards the star of the show (ie. Harry Potter), and usually it was by getting him beaten by the elder Malfoy, Lucius. Draco opened his eyes which, for a moment at least, looked unbelievably haunted.

“So what about you?” he asked the group, looking more specifically at his head of house. Snape sighed heavily.

“I felt guilty about my past, and fell in love with a student,” he said. His uncomfortable shifting made it all too clear who that student was, and Ron sniggered even as Draco nodded his head understandingly. Snape fixed a glare like no other on the red head. “What about you Weasley?” he sneered. Ron blushed crimson.

“I…I spent all day with-” he halted, face easily as red as his hair, and nodded mutely at Hermione, who blushed also. Good ole Remus saved them from further embarrassment.

“I became Defence teacher again,” he offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “Sirius?” The huge, Grim-like dog leapt onto a chair and transformed into the man we all know and love.

“I nearly got caught by Death Eaters-” at this point he glared at Snape, “and I fell in love with Arabella. Again. Where is she, by the way?” Several nods towards the door indicated she was out working. The door was like that of a doctor’s waiting room, with a blurred glass window in the top half with words (back to front from their POV) written across it. This window looked out onto endless rolling grey clouds - oblivion. Suddenly a light flashed from the outside, meaning someone was at the door. The appearance of a silhouette confirmed this. They looked expectantly at the door when it opened, but it wasn’t the Boy Who Lived who stepped through. It wasn’t anybody from their fandom.

It was Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“Hi!” her chirpy blonde head said from its position half way up the door. “I’m sorry to intrude, but have you see Frodo Baggins?” she asked as if it were the most normal question in the world to ask. Those who were not stunned shook their heads negatively, and Buffy frowned. “He ran away from Gandalf and Sam again. All he has to do is take the stupid ring into Mordor, past the evil Orcs, and throw it into the volcano! But noooo, he’s too chicken to fulfil his destiny! I coped better than that…” She muttered senselessly to herself for a few seconds before realising that she wasn’t alone. Dumbledore thought she sounded disturbingly like Gollum. “Well, thanks anyway,” she said, smiling winningly. She closed the door, and flashed away. There was a moment of shocked pause before Remus cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“So…Albus. What did you do today?” he asked the old Headmaster, who smiled wearily.

“I ran the school, organised the fight against Evil, used Harry as pawn in said fight, died,” he said monotonously. “What about you Tom?” All eyes turned to a dark corner where, hidden in shadow, a skeletal body sat, its two red eyes looming out of the darkness. Ron gulped audibly.

“I was defeated again,” he replied, sounding resigned to the fact. His eyes narrowed. “That child has the greatest luck in the world. My plans were flawless, all eight of them! And yet he managed to foil every single one of them.” He cursed in Parseltongue, only to have Nagini rebuke him for swearing. Hermione hid a smile behind her hands, and turned to another, angelically lit corner.

“What about you, Mrs Potter?” she asked curiously. Lily smiled at her, then at James, and he answered for them both.

“We went back in time to Hogwarts, and fought like cats and dogs until Seventh Year, when Harry came back in time and got us together. I really don’t get that, because in reality we barely spoke to each other until Fifth Year, and that’s when we started going out,” he explained, frowning as he thought the problem over. Lily turned to the small, fat, balding man curled up by the Dark Lord.

“What did you do Peter?” she asked stiffly, clearly not on good terms with the rat still. Peter gulped and glanced nervously up at his master.

“I…I did everything m-my Lord w-wished. And confessed under Veritaserum that Padfoot-” Sirius (he transformed again, just for the hell of it) growled warningly, “I mean Sirius, that he was innocent,” he squeaked. Everyone rolled their eyes - Peter’s daily routine hardly ever wavered. They were silent for a long time after, when Ginny flashed in looking flushed and breathless. She grinned sheepishly at them, and sat down in a corner. Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

“Where have you been?” he asked suspiciously. Ginny went as red as Ron had earlier, and avoided looking at them. Colour seeped into Draco’s normally pale cheeks, signalling his change of feelings.

“You didn’t!” he whispered. Ginny bit her lip and nodded.

“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, and he was so worn down…” she trailed off at the murderous looks she was receiving from both her brother and Draco. Albus cleared his throat loudly to cover everyone’s uncomfortable silence. Hermione leaned forward in her chair.

“How is Harry?” she asked quietly. The star hadn’t checked in for over three days, longer than even JKRowling kept him. Ginny met her gaze with a cocked eyebrow.

“Satisfied,” she said shortly. Hermione had the decency to blush (must be the look of the day).Before anyone could say anything a body about Harry’s height flashed in, peering round the door.

“Frodo Bagginsss,” Voldemort hissed in his stereotypical evil-guy hiss (they all hiss; I imagine they have an Evil Overlord club where they practice looking and acting scary, discuss tactics for taking over the world, compare evil monster pets and special powers, and study each other’s arch nemeses). Frodo grimaced at the familiar hate-filled tone, but remained firm.

“Can I hide here? Only Mary Sue, Buffy’s cousin twice removed, is terrorising our Waiting Room,” he asked. The others winced. They had all encountered the evil Mary Sue in some shape or form. She was a shape-shifter that migrated from room to room, infesting it with her annoyingness and bewitching all the occupants. Harry, Draco and Snape tended to be the ones worst hit when she found their Waiting Room, followed closely by Voldemort, Remus and Sirius. Before anyone could invite Frodo in there was another flash.

“There you are Frody Wody!” an annoying voice cooed. A perfectly manicured hand (complete with cheerleading pom-pom hanging at the wrist) latched onto his ear, pulling him away from the door. “C’mon! Legolas and Aragorn are writing me love poems, Boromir is in the stacks and the other hobbits are about to give me a surprise!” In a flash they were both gone, and the characters who are usually in this category breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God she’s gone,” Hermione muttered, rubbing at her temples (the Mary Sue’s effect is immediate and terrible). Ron scratched at his head thoughtfully.

“Where’s Fred and George?” he asked. Dumbledore shook his head mirthfully.

“Visiting,” Remus said shortly.

“Oh…” Ron said. Obviously some very angry characters would be visiting their Waiting Room soon, probably dragging the sniggering twins along behind them.

The sky outside stayed the same (rolling grey clouds) even as the shadows changed within the Waiting Room (Giles, Gandalf and Dumbledore had all put their heads together and failed to explain the phenomenon, so just accept that it is). Ron, Snape, Dumbledore, Voldemort and McGonogall (who had recently returned after another boringly ordinary school lesson) were in engaged in a thrilling game of Go Fish, which McGonogall was winning (dunno how you play the game, but still). Pettigrew had left early after Voldemort hit him with the Cruciatus Curse.

“Go Fish!” our favourite Transfiguration teacher declared, laying down her cards. Voldemort and Snape scowled darkly.

“I never win,” Voldemort complained, nearly breaking into a whine. Dumbledore gave him an odd look.

“Are you pouting, Tom?” he asked, amusement evident in his voice. The Dark Lord’s scowl furrowed even deeper (if that’s possible).

“No,” he snapped, and retreated into his corner where Pettigrew was still curled up, snivelling. Dumbledore chuckled.

Hermione and Ginny were deep in conversation with Mr and Mrs Potter, undoubtedly talking about the amazing child prodigy (aka. Harry).

“He should have been back by now!” the youngest Weasley cried, glaring angrily at the door. A door which had a window, which revealed a flash of light (happens a lot, huh?). The silhouette that appeared stumbled heavily against the door. Everyone held their breath as it swung open, revealing the exhausted and bleeding figure of Harry Potter. His green eyes shone out of the darkness much like Voldemort’s did. Ragged breaths tore themselves painfully out of his chest. No one moved as he limped onto the doormat, and stayed there for several long seconds while the magic worked to heal him.

“What in hell happened to you?” Ron whispered after an audible gulp (he likes to do them). Harry stumbled into a chair, still looking deathly pale despite the healing powers of the doormat.

“Uncle Vernon got drunk, I was torn between three lovers-” he looked at Draco, Ginny and Snape in turn, “I discovered another new power and I defeated you-” he glanced at Voldemort who was nodding sagely, “after discovering you were my real father.” He took a deep breath, brow furrowed, before opening his eyes a crack to look at his parents. “Not that it’s true,” he said. James nodded. Harry’s eyes wandered over the other occupants of the room, and he asked in his characteristically selfless way: “So, what about you guys? Anything interesting happen today?” They glanced at each other in embarrassment.

“Nothing,” Hermione said finally in a high voice. The statement was affirmed with a few nods and repetitions. “Absolutely nothing.”

END