Subject: Ticket to Ride – Chapter 2
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Posted on: 2016-09-20 23:14:00 UTC

While Mittens and the RMC stayed to take care of the mini-Aragog, the human and the night-elf agent followed the canon characters and the Fae outside of the Great Hall and along the halls of Hogwarts, but when the canons turned to the Hospital Wing, Androiaavata felt herself dragged further upstairs. "Where are we going?" she asked when the other agents, the canons and the Stu were all out of earshot. "Are we not supposed to hit Agent Mittens over the head with a printout of the badfic? And probably the RMC should be hit with it as well."

"We’re supposed to stay healthy, so we can continue doing our job. Thus, we’ll change into some dry clothes before we make any further plans. And concerning this misrepresenting-the-badfic thing, considering that they somehow managed to stay dry, I wouldn’t expect overworked agents remembering every detail of such an outdrawn scene. Maybe we can shove it under the rug. This doesn’t need to be decided now."

Talking so much and climbing up a stair don’t go well together for an elderly man. I was quite out of breath when we arrived at the seventh floor, but I was still able to find the tapestry showing Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet, and to walk Androia past it three times while thinking hard: ‘We need dry clothes and a place to change, and I also need a printout of this badfic.’ Unfortunately, nothing happened. Why the heck didn’t it work? Maybe the Invisibility Cloak hid us too well, even from the Room of Requirements? I dropped the cloak and paced the corridor again, concentrating hard on what I wanted.

Androiaavata took the Invisibility Cloak up from the floor. While her hands folded it into a neat package without her even thinking about it, she watched the human become more and more angry. When he stopped pacing, the wall opposite the tapestry was still just a blank wall. The man uttered a series of words the universal translator didn’t translate, because, as he hat put it once, "these are not appropriate for big, innocent, young ears." She wondered whether she should tell him that she couldn’t stop thinking that all this talk about health and getting into dry clothes was just a pretence to make her take her clothes off again. To her surprise, the human stopped cursing before she could make up her mind, and displayed this wicked smile she still didn’t know what to make of.

Just for a minute, I forgot that the Room of Requirement is not a Room of Wish-Fulfillment. So this has been decided for us. We are not required to hit agents with a badfic they misrepresented in their mission report (and the wet garment clinging to the girl's body isn’t actually a bad view), but we still have to decide whether "making yourself soaking" can stay on the charge list when this was actually done to her. Anyway, I remember the perfect place to finish this, so I defocus my eyes to find the cave that appears about 85 percent into the mission report, or, as it turned out to be in terms of the badfic, in chapter eighteen, section six, paragraph two.

The human’s face went blank for a moment, as it usually did when he read the words, then he took the remote activator out of one of his pockets and typed a sequence of numbers. ‘It is powered by plotholes,’ thought Androiaavata frantically, ‘it is powered by plotholes. There is certainly no electricity in it.’ Fortunately her partner didn’t remember the fiasco Mittens and the RMC had experienced with their neuralyzer, or his usual reasonability had been worn out over the last hour, so that he didn’t try to compare the portal generators remote activator to the remote activator of a TV set. The portal flickered into existence and the two agents donned the Invisibility Cloak again and stepped through. They arrived just at the same time as Jareth.

"Well, well, look there sisters, what the cat just dragged into our neck of the world" an old, high-pitched voice reached his ears just as he reached the open top of the mountain, the winds tangling his long cape around his legs "Anyone would have thought he of all creatures would know better than to stir up things that have already been set in motion to pass"

Although the place had been called a cave in the first paragraph, at the end of a long way up the mountain, or through the mountain, the world settled for a grotto when the words made it obvious that the three Fates could see the Goblin King and that Jareth could hear the Fates talking before he even had reached the entrance to the so-called cave. Androiaavata noted that this came in handy for an attempt to use her druidic magic. As Jared and the Fates, who might actually have been Norns – and the real deal to boot – indulged in some banter, and the youngest Norn casually cut a life thread, the wind carried from somewhere far enough a scream of sorrow, further confirming that this couldn’t actually be far underground. King Jareth reminisced about Sarahs latest shenanigans, before he took a seat atop one of the many heavy rocks scattered on the floor, which wasn’t made of solid rock, since Androiaavata and the word world noticed that there was sand an ash all over his boots by now. Very handy this was.

Apparently her partner had the same thought, for he shoved a book into her hands and whispered his advice. "Since you’re so font of hitting people over the head, you do it. I’ll get the note book."

The two agents then watched silently as the Goblin King tried to return the gift of eternal love for a soul mate who had sent mixed signals over the last twelve chapters and apparently didn’t intend to love him back in the expected way. The Norns told Jareth that only Sarah’s death could free him from their gift, and a thread to the wizarding world that had been forgotten for the last twelve chapters raised its ugly head for a short moment.

"If they found a decent beta reader and left the Potterverse and the Labyrinth alone to enact their original story, the Haunted King might actually be a good fairy tale," grumbled the human agent.

"We are not here to judge the badfic," reminded Androiaavata. "At least this is what you told me – master," she added after a short hesitation.

No more words were spoken. After all, there was really nothing left to be said.

The agents arrived at the cave, just as Jareth had stormed out. The three women looked up at them and smiled, had a little chat with the Floaters, were neuralyzed with no effect whatsoever and were sent back to Norsk Mythology, where they belonged. Then the Floaters planned their final attacks, exploiting the Faes’ allergy to iron and Sarah being a heavy sleeper.

The RMC grinned. It was quite a disconcerting sight. “Did you bring any duck tape?”
Mittens actually looked mildly affronted at the question. “I brought two rolls.” Then he also grinned
, and the agents of the Department of Inaccuracies decloaked.

Roots broke out of the sandy floor and wound around the Radioactive Moss Creatures legs. It tried to speak or to draw its sword, but found itself totally immobilized by the power of nature’s magic. Mittens got one of his knives out before he was stopped by a Commanding Voice. "Agent Mittens! Hand Over This Notebook. Right Now!"

Mittens forgot immediately that he was not standing in front of a superior officer and gave this stranger whatever he wanted. Androiaavata approached the RMC, lifting Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone high above her pointy ears. "Ages ago," she said, "you asked since when tickets are needed for the Hogwarts Express. Your answer is in here, at the end of chapter five." The book came down onto the RMC’s head. "Know your canon, Agent Moss!"

Meanwhile, the human agent had scribbled into Mittens’ notebook and handed it back. "Now Continue Your Mission, Agents!"

The spell’s duration expired, the roots fell off the RMC’s legs and retreated into the ground, and the two Floaters hurried through a portal back to Hogwarts.

"Must we follow them and watch the assassinations?" asked Androiaavata, looking worried.

"Sarah Sue being drowned in the Bog of Eternal Stench? No way! I’ve had enough of that stench. Let’s go home."

(To be continued)

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