When Worlds Collide - Monaboyd/Potterverse crossover
Monaboyd/Potterverse Crossover
Who: Dom, Billy, Fred, George
What: When worlds collide
Setup: Fred and George feed Dom a test item. Hilarity ensues.
Rated: PG-13 (cursing)
Fic in Beta mode. Feedback appreciated. Fic also incomplete. Suggestions for direction appreciated.
***
“Billy, where the hell are we?” Dominic whispered loudly, watching wide-eyed as a piece of paper floated past them in the waiting room, darting amongst the strangely-clad shapes. Large - what were those, bubbles? - hovered near the ceiling, glowing warm light. People in antiquated outfits and what almost looked like witches hats spoke in hushed tones around them.
“I have no idea, Dom,” Billy replied, looking around nervously. They’d been in this strange waiting room for nearly an hour, mostly ignored by the attending - were they nurses? They looked a little like nurses. It had all been very surreal.
Pulsing, hot heavy breaths, heartbeats, movement together. Kissing, touching, feeling, grinding. A shared drink, and then Dominic was pulled away for a moment, sandwiched in between two ginger-haired twins. They had a mischievous glint to their eyes that had intrigued the Englishman. After a song and a piss, Billy retrieved Dom from the two lanky men and pulled him into a corner, kissing him roughly against the wall as though to say, “This one is mine.” Billy had tasted peppermint on Dom’s tongue and drunk all the deeper. When he had pulled back, he had been shocked to see bright red lines appearing on his lover’s face. The ginger-haired twins had found them quickly and, smirking, had led them out into London’s streets.
“We don’t have an antidote yet,” the one who called himself George had said.
“Well, not for Muggles,” the one named Fred amended.
“Muggles?” Billy repeated, confused. Dom was slouched next to him and every breath he exhaled smelled like a mockery of Christmas.
The twins had exchanged a look and, with a strange pulling sensation - Billy had supposed they’d been knocked out - found themselves in what appeared to be a hospital waiting room. There was no sight of the red-headed troublemakers.
So they waited. They were stared at by many of the people around them, but Billy had the distinct impression it was more by how they were dressed than because they were holding hands.
“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Billy said, standing and crossing to what he hoped was the nurses station. There was a large sign in heavy calligraphy behind a very annoyed-looking lady. “Excuse me, miss,” Billy said, trying to get the woman’s attention. “My friend’s face looks like he’s been turned into a candy cane,” he started.
“Fourth floor, spell damage, can’t you read?” she asked, not even looking up.
“Pardon me, ‘spell damage’?” he asked. “Look, miss, I’m sorry to bother you about your job, but what in God’s name are you on about, ‘spell damage’? My friend is clearly ill, and I think we were both attacked at the club - knocked out - and -”
The witch looked up sharply as though seeing him clearly. “Muggles!” she exclaimed, taking in his clothes. “Oi, Beatrice,” she called out sharply to a passing, harried-looking nurse. “Take this gent and his friend up to spell damage, will you? And make sure the Healer knows to explain - code 31.”
Billy looked over his shoulder at Dom, who was watching him closely. With a quick jerk of his head, he indicated that Dom should join him.
“Well, let’s hurry along, then,” Beatrice said, moving forward. “We’ll get you checked into Spells and I’ll get Healer Smethwyke to talk to you. He’s better with Muggles than most, seeing as how his mum’s family was all Muggles.”
“What the bloody hell is a Muggle?” Dom demanded, eyeing a painting as they passed. “Christ, Bills, that portrait is moving!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dom,” Billy hissed. “Of course it’s not-”
“Of course it’s moving,” Beatrice said sharply over her shoulder. “And they can hear you, you know.” She led them up several flights of stairs.
“Please wake me when this is all over,” Dom muttered. “Clearly I’ve gone mad and will be locked up. Bills, please say you’ll visit me and bring me flowers on my birthday. Tell Lij and Sean and everyone that I’m sorry, and Orli was right; I didn’t make it to 30 before cracking up.”
“If you’ve gone nutters, Dom, then I have too,” Billy said, climbing the stairs and emerging onto the fourth floor behind Beatrice. “You’ll just have to tell them when they come to visit us.”
“No one’s gone mad,” the nurse said offhandedly, leading them to the check-in area. She talked in low tones with the nurse behind the desk. “Fill out this paperwork,” she said, thrusting a clipboard, quill, and ink at Billy. “You can sit with your friend in his room. Come along. Smethwyke will be along soon.” She led them to a room with two empty beds. At least those looked like normal hospital fare. Dom sat uncomfortably on the edge of the bed and watched as Beatrice left them.
Billy looked over at Dom and shook his head. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on,” he said. He glanced down at his hands and stared. “A quill? What kind of madhouse is this?” He closed his eyes briefly, then sat down. “I suppose we’d better start filling this out,” he said quietly. “So strange.”
***
“Master Monaghan?” A friendly, if aged, face peered around the door.
Dom looked up. The stripes now appeared to be covering his entire body. Little red and white lines raced around his hands. Billy wondered, almost from outside his panicked thoughts, if everything was now the colour of a peppermint candy. At least it matched his shirt. He giggled, a bit madly.
“That’s me,” Dom said, shooting a sidelong glance at Billy, who was doing his best to stifle his laughter.
“I’m sorry for all the confusion,” the gentleman said, entering the room. “I’m Healer Smethwyke.” He offered Dominic his hand. Dom took it hesitatingly, then shook it.
“Healer? Is that like a doctor?” Dom asked.
Smethwyke nodded. “In our world - rather, the magical world; it certainly isn’t your world - medical practitioners are called Healers.” He released Dominic’s hand.
“Forgive me if I feel a bit daft, but… magical world? What on earth is going on? Is this one of those blasted telly programs where they set you up in some strange situation, then jump out and shout ‘Surprise!’? If it is, I’m fed up with it and want to go home, though I would like to know how you got my body to turn into a walking peppermint stick!”
“I understand this is quite disconcerting, Master Monaghan,” Smethwyke said, holding up a hand in anticipation to Dominic’s outburst. “Please, let me continue.”
Billy didn’t really remember much of what Smethwyke had told them, though the thoughtful part of his mind was quite fascinated by the idea of real wizards and witches. He’d tried to pepper Smethwyke with questions, but was stopped. The doctor - Healer, Billy reminded himself - had explained that the two blokes they’d met had done magic on Dom. There was something about a Magical Reversal Squad that normally handled “such things,” and then he’d said something about Obliviation. It didn’t sound particularly pleasant, but Smethwyke had insisted that it was standard operating procedure and that they wouldn’t remember any of this, anyway.
Billy crawled into bed next to Dom as the Healer left the room.
“We’ve gone right batty, haven’t we?” he said, curling up next to Dominic.
“Did you believe him?”
Billy hesitated, then nodded. “As mad as it sounds, I want to believe him. He seemed true. You?”
Dom nodded. “He wasn’t lying; or, at least, he didn’t believe he was lying.” He laughed a little. “And here I thought it was all a telly show.”
Billy traced his fingers along one of the lines on Dom’s face. “This is all very surreal,” he murmured. “Though stripes are said to be slimming.” He smirked.
“Oi, watch who you’re calling fat, Scotsman,” Dom protested, making a face that was all the more comical due to his appearance.
Two ginger heads appeared around the door.
“Hallo mates!”
“How’re the stripes working out for you?”
“Oh, nice, are they everywhere?”
“No, wait, don’t answer that question.”
They entered as one and settled themselves on the next bed over, grinning at Dom and Billy.
“Sorry we abandoned you back there.”
“But we couldn’t have people asking questions.”
“We’re not supposed to be testing on people without their knowledge or consent.”
“Particularly not Muggles.”
“But you were just so perfect, and there.”
“And we couldn’t resist.”
“So we wanted to apologise.”
“So here we are.”
“Sorry!” they chorused together, not looking in the least bit sorry.
Who: Dom, Billy, Fred, George
What: When worlds collide
Setup: Fred and George feed Dom a test item. Hilarity ensues.
Rated: PG-13 (cursing)
Fic in Beta mode. Feedback appreciated. Fic also incomplete. Suggestions for direction appreciated.
***
“Billy, where the hell are we?” Dominic whispered loudly, watching wide-eyed as a piece of paper floated past them in the waiting room, darting amongst the strangely-clad shapes. Large - what were those, bubbles? - hovered near the ceiling, glowing warm light. People in antiquated outfits and what almost looked like witches hats spoke in hushed tones around them.
“I have no idea, Dom,” Billy replied, looking around nervously. They’d been in this strange waiting room for nearly an hour, mostly ignored by the attending - were they nurses? They looked a little like nurses. It had all been very surreal.
Pulsing, hot heavy breaths, heartbeats, movement together. Kissing, touching, feeling, grinding. A shared drink, and then Dominic was pulled away for a moment, sandwiched in between two ginger-haired twins. They had a mischievous glint to their eyes that had intrigued the Englishman. After a song and a piss, Billy retrieved Dom from the two lanky men and pulled him into a corner, kissing him roughly against the wall as though to say, “This one is mine.” Billy had tasted peppermint on Dom’s tongue and drunk all the deeper. When he had pulled back, he had been shocked to see bright red lines appearing on his lover’s face. The ginger-haired twins had found them quickly and, smirking, had led them out into London’s streets.
“We don’t have an antidote yet,” the one who called himself George had said.
“Well, not for Muggles,” the one named Fred amended.
“Muggles?” Billy repeated, confused. Dom was slouched next to him and every breath he exhaled smelled like a mockery of Christmas.
The twins had exchanged a look and, with a strange pulling sensation - Billy had supposed they’d been knocked out - found themselves in what appeared to be a hospital waiting room. There was no sight of the red-headed troublemakers.
So they waited. They were stared at by many of the people around them, but Billy had the distinct impression it was more by how they were dressed than because they were holding hands.
“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Billy said, standing and crossing to what he hoped was the nurses station. There was a large sign in heavy calligraphy behind a very annoyed-looking lady. “Excuse me, miss,” Billy said, trying to get the woman’s attention. “My friend’s face looks like he’s been turned into a candy cane,” he started.
“Fourth floor, spell damage, can’t you read?” she asked, not even looking up.
“Pardon me, ‘spell damage’?” he asked. “Look, miss, I’m sorry to bother you about your job, but what in God’s name are you on about, ‘spell damage’? My friend is clearly ill, and I think we were both attacked at the club - knocked out - and -”
The witch looked up sharply as though seeing him clearly. “Muggles!” she exclaimed, taking in his clothes. “Oi, Beatrice,” she called out sharply to a passing, harried-looking nurse. “Take this gent and his friend up to spell damage, will you? And make sure the Healer knows to explain - code 31.”
Billy looked over his shoulder at Dom, who was watching him closely. With a quick jerk of his head, he indicated that Dom should join him.
“Well, let’s hurry along, then,” Beatrice said, moving forward. “We’ll get you checked into Spells and I’ll get Healer Smethwyke to talk to you. He’s better with Muggles than most, seeing as how his mum’s family was all Muggles.”
“What the bloody hell is a Muggle?” Dom demanded, eyeing a painting as they passed. “Christ, Bills, that portrait is moving!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dom,” Billy hissed. “Of course it’s not-”
“Of course it’s moving,” Beatrice said sharply over her shoulder. “And they can hear you, you know.” She led them up several flights of stairs.
“Please wake me when this is all over,” Dom muttered. “Clearly I’ve gone mad and will be locked up. Bills, please say you’ll visit me and bring me flowers on my birthday. Tell Lij and Sean and everyone that I’m sorry, and Orli was right; I didn’t make it to 30 before cracking up.”
“If you’ve gone nutters, Dom, then I have too,” Billy said, climbing the stairs and emerging onto the fourth floor behind Beatrice. “You’ll just have to tell them when they come to visit us.”
“No one’s gone mad,” the nurse said offhandedly, leading them to the check-in area. She talked in low tones with the nurse behind the desk. “Fill out this paperwork,” she said, thrusting a clipboard, quill, and ink at Billy. “You can sit with your friend in his room. Come along. Smethwyke will be along soon.” She led them to a room with two empty beds. At least those looked like normal hospital fare. Dom sat uncomfortably on the edge of the bed and watched as Beatrice left them.
Billy looked over at Dom and shook his head. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on,” he said. He glanced down at his hands and stared. “A quill? What kind of madhouse is this?” He closed his eyes briefly, then sat down. “I suppose we’d better start filling this out,” he said quietly. “So strange.”
***
“Master Monaghan?” A friendly, if aged, face peered around the door.
Dom looked up. The stripes now appeared to be covering his entire body. Little red and white lines raced around his hands. Billy wondered, almost from outside his panicked thoughts, if everything was now the colour of a peppermint candy. At least it matched his shirt. He giggled, a bit madly.
“That’s me,” Dom said, shooting a sidelong glance at Billy, who was doing his best to stifle his laughter.
“I’m sorry for all the confusion,” the gentleman said, entering the room. “I’m Healer Smethwyke.” He offered Dominic his hand. Dom took it hesitatingly, then shook it.
“Healer? Is that like a doctor?” Dom asked.
Smethwyke nodded. “In our world - rather, the magical world; it certainly isn’t your world - medical practitioners are called Healers.” He released Dominic’s hand.
“Forgive me if I feel a bit daft, but… magical world? What on earth is going on? Is this one of those blasted telly programs where they set you up in some strange situation, then jump out and shout ‘Surprise!’? If it is, I’m fed up with it and want to go home, though I would like to know how you got my body to turn into a walking peppermint stick!”
“I understand this is quite disconcerting, Master Monaghan,” Smethwyke said, holding up a hand in anticipation to Dominic’s outburst. “Please, let me continue.”
Billy didn’t really remember much of what Smethwyke had told them, though the thoughtful part of his mind was quite fascinated by the idea of real wizards and witches. He’d tried to pepper Smethwyke with questions, but was stopped. The doctor - Healer, Billy reminded himself - had explained that the two blokes they’d met had done magic on Dom. There was something about a Magical Reversal Squad that normally handled “such things,” and then he’d said something about Obliviation. It didn’t sound particularly pleasant, but Smethwyke had insisted that it was standard operating procedure and that they wouldn’t remember any of this, anyway.
Billy crawled into bed next to Dom as the Healer left the room.
“We’ve gone right batty, haven’t we?” he said, curling up next to Dominic.
“Did you believe him?”
Billy hesitated, then nodded. “As mad as it sounds, I want to believe him. He seemed true. You?”
Dom nodded. “He wasn’t lying; or, at least, he didn’t believe he was lying.” He laughed a little. “And here I thought it was all a telly show.”
Billy traced his fingers along one of the lines on Dom’s face. “This is all very surreal,” he murmured. “Though stripes are said to be slimming.” He smirked.
“Oi, watch who you’re calling fat, Scotsman,” Dom protested, making a face that was all the more comical due to his appearance.
Two ginger heads appeared around the door.
“Hallo mates!”
“How’re the stripes working out for you?”
“Oh, nice, are they everywhere?”
“No, wait, don’t answer that question.”
They entered as one and settled themselves on the next bed over, grinning at Dom and Billy.
“Sorry we abandoned you back there.”
“But we couldn’t have people asking questions.”
“We’re not supposed to be testing on people without their knowledge or consent.”
“Particularly not Muggles.”
“But you were just so perfect, and there.”
“And we couldn’t resist.”
“So we wanted to apologise.”
“So here we are.”
“Sorry!” they chorused together, not looking in the least bit sorry.