a/n: Hello there, dear readers! First of all, I want to thank all of you who so willingly accepted my apology for leaving fanfiction for such a long time. I am back in the swing of things now, having found a balance between writing this story and my original work. Also, thanks to everyone who wished me luck in my attempt at writing my own story. I've been working on this particular one for almost four years, and it seems to be coming together quite nicely. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll publish more than just fanfiction.
One more thing before we all jump into chapter five (I meant to put this in the last chapter but I was too busy apologizing all over myself!): I took a long-awaited trip to Ireland and England back in June, and I just wanted to tell my readers from there that you have beautiful countries. I'd been saving for that trip for a year and half and it was so satisfying to finally go! I had the time of my life and can't wait to go back! (I actually never would have left if my friends hadn't dragged me onto the plane kicking and screaming.) That was a random comment about my life that has absolutely nothing to do with the story. Sorry!
And now, without further ado, please head on into chapter five!
Disclaimer(s): I do not own Harry Potter. Every time I type that sentence, I die a little inside. V.V Oh, I also don't own any of the works by Milton, Chaucer, Twain, Shakespeare, Poe, or the Grimms…still. Poo.
Chapter 5: Laying Down the Law
Calming down after such a tragic ending was not an easy task. Aquinas lead Claire and Robin down three flights of stairs to a place called "The Pep-up Room." Each girl was lead away to a quiet spot by a different nurse. Claire's attendant forced her to chug down three glasses of water ("You're going to dehydrate if you keep crying that way!") and to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" five times. Halfway through her third chorus, Claire watched as Robin washed her face in a large sink in the middle of the room, and saw that her cheeks were still very wet even after she had dried it with a large, fluffy towel.
"How I w-w-wonder wh-wh-what you—you are…"
"Again!" conducted her attendant with a large, toothy smile.
Eventually, they reached a point where there were no more tears to cry, just very scratchy throats and soar eyes to attend to.
"Can you believe it?" Claire asked Robin when they were finally allowed to speak to one another.
"I know," Robin said, reapplying her eyeliner in a mirror in the far corner. She blinked a few times as she screwed the lid back on her make-up. "Dumbledore."
"And that wasn't even the worst of it!" Claire said, feeling another wave of sadness sweep over her. "They aren't going back to school!"
Robin sat down on a squishy beanbag opposite Claire, her chin in her hands, looking a cross between depressed and disappointed.
"That means no more Quidditch," she thought allowed.
"And no more funny classes," Claire added, "or sneaking out of the dormitories at night, or getting caught by Filch, or visiting Hagrid—"
"Stop it!" Robin exclaimed, covering her ears with her hands. "I can't hear you! La la la la la….!"
"Wasn't it the best though," Claire said dreamily, changing the subject, "how Ron comforted Hermione at the funeral? I thought I was going to die!"
Robin shrugged, "Yeah it was cute, but you were always way more into that mushy stuff than I ever—oh my God."
She suddenly started to laugh uncontrollably. Claire stared, confused.
"I don't get you," Claire announced.
"No, it's just—it's just…" Robin was gasping for breath, clutching her sides. "I just remembered!"
She began another fit of random laughter. Claire was starting to get annoyed.
"What!" she demanded.
Robin finally managed to get her tongue around the words.
"Ginny is going to kill you!"
Claire felt her stomach drop to her feet as she gasped.
"Oh God, I didn't even think of…Robin, what am I going to do?"
"Hey, you're on your own there, honey," Robin said, finally regaining her composure. She stood up and began running a brush through her tangled hair. It was starting to get curly again from going far too long without seeing a hair-straightener. "By the way, is all this Horcrux stuff going to screw with your plan?"
Claire tried to think. For the passed few hours, she had almost completely forgotten that they were supposed to be going back into the story. She supposed that was just a mark of how fantastic the book really was, that it could make her completely lose track of her greatest worries and fears.
"I don't know," she finally answered. "I thought all of it was completely amazing, though."
"So did I, especially the parts when Voldemort was little. Man, it all tied together so perfectly!" Robin agreed, staring at her hair with disapproval in the mirror. "But, you know, our opinions on the plot aren't going to help us much once we get back in there. We need to refigure some things."
"Do you think Snape is really evil?" Claire asked, fingering her own brush thoughtfully.
"I have absolutely no idea," Robin said, tossing her brush back into the basket of toiletries they had received from the nurses to tidy themselves up before heading back downstairs. "From what we saw when we were in the story, I'd say yes. From what she wrote in this book, though, she left it quite open-ended." She sighed, setting the basket down on the floor and sitting beside it. "You know we probably saw more than we were supposed to—back then, in the Shrieking Shack."
"No doubt about it," Claire agreed. "That means we need to be extra careful, now that we know what he's capable of."
Robin stared solemnly into space. Claire had never seen her so emotional before. It sort of scared her.
"I can't believe he's really gone," she said quietly.
Claire felt fresh, hot tears forming in her eyes as she thought about it. Albus Dumbledore, the invincible, the only one the evil Lord Voldemort ever feared…how could he possibly be dead at the hands of someone as overlooked as Severus Snape? It was an ingenious twist that neither of them saw coming.
Robin shook her head quickly, black extensions flying all about her as she stood up.
"Well, we have a lot of work to do, and we have to meet back with the High Council later on tonight," she said. "Come on, Claire, shake it off. You need to get yourself cleaned up before we go down there. I'll ask the nurses if they have a hose we can use…"
"Do you think this will work?"
Claire chewed her eraser tip, thinking. The pair sat at a small table in one of the many lounges, hunched over Claire's notebook, going over their final plan and how they were going to present it to the Council in a few minutes.
"Oh, it can definitely work," Claire answered. "It's just a matter of getting the judges to let us try it, and, of course, not getting ourselves killed."
"Right," Robin said, sitting back and stretching her arms out wide behind her. "I wonder what happened to—oh, hi, Aquinas. Where have you been?"
Looking over to the door, Claire saw Aquinas march in, looking just as angry as he had when they had arrived at the Headquarters.
"What's up?" she asked him.
"Oh nothing, just busy having my license revoked, that's all," Aquinas spat, crossing his arms and tapping his foot moodily. "Other than that, I'm just peachy!"
"Did they really take your license away?" Claire asked.
"No," Aquinas admitted, "but it's only a matter of time, thanks to you."
"Well, if they stick to their original verdict, they can't take your license away," Claire told him, gathering up all of her scrap papers from the table. "We're going to need you if we're going to fix things."
"And what makes you think I want to be involved in this?" Aquinas snapped. A moment later, he added, "Again?"
Claire smirked.
"Because you secretly love all this drama," she replied, "or you wouldn't have been in trouble before you ever met us."
He had no reply to that except to stomp angrily across the room to the coffee machine, spilling milk and sugar everywhere while muttering furiously under his breath.
"Yeah, what did you do anyway, Quin?" Robin asked, joining in. "What sort of trouble have you been in with the Council before all this?"
"That's none of your business!" he said, voice cracking with irritation.
The girls smiled at each other and left it at that, not wanting to tick him off any worse.
"Are you going to come with us or not?" Claire said, standing up and pushing in her chair. "We're supposed to be down in the chambers in ten minutes"
Aquinas stirred his coffee fitfully, spraying a couple of old men sitting at a table nearby. The one closest to him inspected the specs of espresso on his glasses, confused as to how they got there.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." He chugged down the contents of his mug and slammed it down on the counter, leading the way into the lobby.
A few minutes later, Claire and Robin were standing once again before the judge's bench, Aquinas sitting in his chair off to the side, sulking and mumbling to himself while unconsciously messing with his hair.
Twain fumbled around with his bifocals before calling the silent chamber to order.
"Woods, Gregory," he addressed them, "you are here to receive the rules and regulations for your final trip into the story. Yes, yes, what is it?"
Claire had stepped forward to speak.
"We sort of already had a plan to fix everything," she explained, "and if it's okay we'd like to show you what we've come up with. That way, we can work together to figure the best solution for solving things."
"Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't," Shakespeare said.
"I agree, she's up to something fishy," Chaucer commented. Claire noticed he had no gavel this time and Milton kept throwing reproachful glances down the bench. Beside Chaucer, Poe had a large ice bag taped around his head and looked a little on the tipsy side. He wasn't nearly as talkative this time around.
"Well, I wasn't done explaining yet!" Twain said, irritated. "It's just like when I'm telling a great tale of my boyhood, everyone quits listening before the end!"
"Just like your books, too, I'm afraid," muttered Chaucer.
"What did you say?" Twain demanded, looking abashed.
"Oh, nothing, Sammy boy," Chaucer said with cheerful grin.
"Indeed!" Twain said, collecting himself. "Now, as I was saying, you will only be allowed one trip into Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."
"But after that we can go into the last two books?" Claire asked.
"Assuming you can salvage them, yes," Milton said, "lest you don't screw anything else up in the mean time."
"Point taken," Claire agreed.
"Now," Twain said. "For your journey back into the third book, you will only be allowed to go back to the last day you were located in."
"In other words, the day of all the Time-Turner stuff?" Robin asked.
"Precisely," said Jacob Grimm.
"So, you're not trying to make this easy for us, are you?" Robin added.
"You are the ones who made it difficult on yourselves," Milton scolded. "We had nothing to do with it."
"Yeah, true," Robin said, defeated.
"The rules for this journey will be read by the court attendant," announced Twain. "Gustov? Gustov!"
There was a loud snore as the startled, Tweedle Dee attendant jumped to his feet.
"Yes, yes the rules, the rules!" Gustov said, unrolling yet another large scroll. "Rule number one: Woods and Gregory may not enter any other part of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban other than those of the Time-Turner sequence."
"No problem!" Claire muttered to Robin, feeling excited.
"Rule number two: Woods and Gregory may not come into contact with any of the main characters in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."
"What?" both girls exclaimed.
"But how are we supposed to fix anything if we can't even get near the Shrieking Shack?" Claire demanded. "There're people all over the grounds that night! We're not going to be able to do anything!"
"Order! Order!" Twain barked, banging his gavel down.
"I miss my gavel," Poe said sadly, speaking for the first time all afternoon. "It was the closest thing they'd allow me to a weapon."
"Me too, Eddie. Me, too," Chaucer agreed, glaring down the bench at Milton, who had all three of their gavels tucked safely in his arms.
"Continue, Gustov," Twain ordered.
"Yes, O Great One!" Gustov obliged. "Rule number three: Woods and Gregory may not come into contact with the Woods and Gregory characters already inside Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."
Claire swore. This was going to be impossible! With each new rule, her plan was getting torn to shreds. How were they supposed to fix this if the only two things they were allowed to do were go into the story and breathe?
"And finally, rule number four: Woods and Gregory must return to the Headquarters precisely one hour and thirty minutes after they enter Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."
"That part of the story goes on for nearly four chapters!" Robin exclaimed. "That's way longer than an hour and a half!"
"If you fail to abide by these rules, you will be brought out of the story," Milton concluded.
"But this is unfair!" Claire said, unable to think of any other way to describe it.
"To mourn a mischief that is past and gone is the next way to draw new mischief on," said Shakespeare, shaking his head.
"Very true, Will," said Wilhelm Grimm. "The whole point of these rules is to prevent you from repeating your past mistakes, which you must admit you have a habit of doing."
Both girls gaped open-mouthed at the bench, feeling trapped and overwhelmed. There was nothing they could do; the decision was final.
"What about Aquinas?" Claire said when her voice returned.
"For the love of Pete, shut up!" he hissed from across the room.
"What about him?" Milton asked.
"I want him to come with us," Claire said plainly.
"Absolutely not," said Jacob Grimm. "He's on probation. The Observing department will not allow him to go into a story."
"Tsk tsk!" Chaucer mocked, wagging a finger in Aquinas's direction. "Should have behaved yourself, m'boy!"
"You are absolutely the last person I'd want to wag a finger at me, Geoff," Milton said scathingly.
"Ditto, Milty," Chaucer said.
Claire crossed her arms defiantly. With all these ridiculous rules, they were going to need all the help they could get. She wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"Aquinas hates us," she said bluntly. "Sending him back into the story would be the best way to punish him."
The Judges stared at each other, having no comeback to such an obvious solution.
"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't," Shakespeare said to his fellow Justices.
"No!" Aquinas said, squirming in his seat. "I beg of you, I'll do anything! Sort mail, answer phones, clean the bedpans—anything!"
"We'll need a moment to confer," Twain said for the second time. The Judges gathered around, discussing animatedly the best way to deal with their troublesome Observer. Finally, after much whispering and another desperate attempt to retrieve lost gavels, they reached an agreement.
"William—Sorry, I mean Wilhelm, that's what I said!" Twain declared. "Wilhelm, the verdict please?"
"Aquinas Smith, you will be allowed to accompany the girls into Prisoner of Azkaban, and we will judge by the way you handle yourself in this task whether you will be allowed to continue helping them, provided they salvage the remaining two books."
Aquinas looked as if he were about to cry.
"This court is adjourned," Twain announced, banging his gavel a final time. Poe stared at it, licking his lips. "Woods and Gregory will leave for the story in one hour's time. Report to the Bestowing Chamber at six o'clock, sharp!"
Claire and Robin left the courtroom together, Aquinas trailing slowly behind.
"Have you ever seen 'Mission Impossible'?" Claire asked them as they walked down the stone hallway toward the lobby.
"I think I'm about to," Robin said. She put on a face and mocked the Grimm brother, saying, "We don't want you to repeat past mistakes. Honestly, they made up half those rules because they want us to fail!"
Claire nodded, having had the same thought back in the courtroom.
"Claire," Robin said anxiously, playing with one of her bracelets, "how are we going to make this work?"
"Don't worry, I have an idea," Claire assured her, "and now that Aquinas is coming with us, we have nothing to worry about!"
"I beg your pardon?" he said, looking queasy.
"You weren't there last time!" Claire said, as if it were obvious. "That means you're going to have to make all the necessary contact with main characters. You better go chug a few more cups of that coffee, you've got a lot of work to do."
"Fabulous," Aquinas said unenthusiastically.
"Oh, cheer up, Aquinas!" Robin said, punching his arm playfully. "You know you're excited!"
Claire privately agreed. She could hardly wait to get back inside the story, as if it were something sweet she had not tasted in a long time.
"All right," Claire said, taking charge of things. "I think it's best if we just go in what we're wearing. Jeans will be easier to maneuver in than robes."
"Robin's going to have a difficult time chasing after werewolves in that Halloween costume," Aquinas commented, pointing to her many spiky belts and bracelets.
"I'm surprised any blood is getting to your brain, your pants are so tight!" Robin retorted. "You look like an emo."
"A what-o?" Aquinas asked, confused.
"You need to get out more," Robin said, rolling her eyes.
"All right, that's enough," Claire said, ending the argument there. "Let's head up to the Bestowing Chamber. We'll do our final preparations there and discuss the plan. Everyone ready?"
Robin and Aquinas nodded, the latter leading the way to the room that would take them back to Hogwarts.
The three—Robin, Claire, and Aquinas—all dealt with the nerves in a different manner. Claire sat in the corner, muttering to herself and going over her notebook again and again. Robin stood flat against the wall, eyes shut and foot tapping to a beat no one could hear. Aquinas paced about the room, making them all even more antsy.
"Can't you sit still?" Claire snapped after half an hour of this.
Aquinas seated himself and jiggled his legs up and down, making far more noise than before.
"Claire Woods, Robin Gregory, and Aquinas Smith," said a woman in a yellow jumpsuit, entering the waiting room with a clipboard, "we're ready for you. Do you have everything you need?"
Claire nodded, trying to look more sure of herself than she felt.
"Very well," the woman said with a sigh. "Follow me."
They walked through the door and into a room that was shockingly white. Squinting, Claire obeyed the woman as she directed her and Robin to a large circle in the center of the floor. Aquinas was to stand in a separate circle beside them.
"Ready?" she asked them.
Claire nodded. Robin shrugged. Aquinas sighed.
"I'll take that as a yes," she said, strapping on yellow goggles with a loud snap! "On the count of three, then. One…two…"
Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"…three!"
a/n: DUN DUN DAAAAAAAAAAAaaaa! So. They're heading back into the story! What will happen when they get there? Will Claire and Robin be able to save the story and follow all the guidelines set by the Council? Will Aquinas cooperate? Will you die of anticipation before you get to read it? Chapter six, guys, it's all in chapter six.
Also, I forgot to add this last time: I don't own The Lord of the Rings, Artemis Fowl, His Dark Materials, A Series of Unfortunate Events, or The Bartimaeus Trilogy. They belong to the greats J.R.R. Tolkien, Eoin Colfer, Philip Pullman, Lemony Snicket, and Jonathon Stroud, respectively. Just wanted to put that out there before someone sued me. (sweatdrop) See you guys soon with chapter six!