To Sleep, Perchance to Dream of Legolas, or Hermione!

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns TLOTR, Rawlings HP, Jay and Acacia the PPC, and me? I own original characters that may or may not be mentioned: Death, Random, and the Chameleon.

Death sat on the Generic Surface in her response center, staring at the black ceiling. She was pondering a most difficult and bizarre question, one that she had not yet had the luck to figure out: why did the color pink exist? Girls needed something to like, she supposed, and boys to think was girlie. But she had a pink notebook, and no one yet had called her a girlie. Of course, that’s because most of the people she met were either a) dead, or b) formerly dead, or c) about to be dead.

Death was also wondering why none of the other agents would speak with her.

Such was the focus of Death’s thoughts, when the computer decided to

[SWISSSSSHHHH!!]

Plucked neatly out of her reverie, Death looked up at the computer contemplatively. "You know, you don’t have to do that nice scythe effect just for me," she said. "I know I threatened you if you didn’t, but I’m thinking that’s not the reason you use it. I think it’s because of the color pink. Do you like the color pink?"

The computer didn’t answer.

"No, really. I mean –"

[SWISSSSSHHHH!!!!!!!] the computer insisted. Death ignored it.

"–everything around here seems to somehow relate back to pink. I would say it was a human thing, but not all agents are humans, and computers certainly aren’t. Are you?"

[SWIISSSSSSHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

"I didn’t think so. By the way –"

[BEEEEEEPPPPP!!!!!!!]

"Now there’s no need to be rude. I realize there’s a mission. So, what is it this time? Is it fun? Does it have pink?" Once again, the computer deigned to stay silent rather than reply. How odd, Death thought. "Hmm, now what’s the fiction? ‘Of Books and Cleverness’? Interesting name. Hmm. Legolas/Hermione, sappy, OOC, no original characters . . . looks fun."

Death stored various supplies in her robes, then paused, remembering that they weren’t *technically* considered a uniform in the PPC. Sighing a little, she replaced them with the usual black, and placed the robes over-top. No need to be obsessive over what she wore, however. Who really cared? Most people couldn’t see her, and she looked blandly morbid anyway. Besides, talking on and on about clothes are boring, which proves that the author can by a hypocrite while mocking people. But I digress.

Pulling out the Remote Activator, Death stared at it. It should be quite simple. It’s not even if she needed a disguise; the story took place in Hogwarts and looking vaguely human should do the trick. But how to open a Portal to the right place, that was the problem. She had practiced, but the last time she had tried to get anywhere . . . well, it certainly hadn’t been the Discworld version of Hell. So how to do it?

"I would recommend pushing the button labeled ‘portal’ a voice suggested behind her. Death turned.

"Are you a peanut?" she demanded suspiciously. "Do you like the color pink?"

"No, but I am used to living in a first person setting. Why?"

"Just wondering. Why are you in here? You’re talking to me. Are you about to die?"

"No . . ." the young man who stood there hesitated. "I’m Agent Lasin Logic."

"Lasic."

"Er, yes. Agent Random got a new partner . . ." he trailed off, looking embarassed.

"What?"

"Well . . . I was the chameleon. I mean, I *am* a chameleon, but the lichen said I was useless as one, so he put me in this shape. And, ah," he flicked his tongue out instinctively, tasting the air, then withdrew it, embarrassed. "You look like you need some help."

"Yes," Death was relieved. "You’re a chameleon."

"I know it’s unusual, but they said you wouldn’t mind. . . ."

"I mean, I thought they were going to give me someone actually *weird* like those people who wear pink. . . ."

Death and Lasin trailed off, realizing they had spoken at the same time. "So," Lasin said at last. "What’s the mission."

"A crossover."

"Er . . ."

"TLOTR/HP."

"Hermione/Legolas?"

"Legolas/Hermione."

"OOC."

"Definitely."

"In Hogwarts or Middle-earth."

"Hogwarts."

"Bring it on."

Lasin took the portaller from Death, activated it (correctly, yeah) and stepped crawled through. Death followed him – walking. Some habits may not die for chameleons, but that doesn’t mean bizarre girls have to follow them and become even stranger.

Lasin landed on the floor, some feet below. It was not, he supposed, the brightest place to portal to, but it was better than letting Death handle it. Anyway, Hogwarts had pretty stairs, and why not try to land on them? Even if he missed. Lasin turned to see . . .

Harry and Ginny snogging and a slightly Sue-ish looking Hermione in a tank top watching them. He promptly fainted. Characters had never looked so small before.

(A/N: This author’s note is placed inside the text in the style of the story it’s PPCing, and is a WARNING: alas, that the PPC’d story was an incredibly boring one, it led to an absolute pointlessness which you will discover if you continue to read. You have been warned.)

>>>>>He went to ascend the stairs to the girls’ dormitory where Hermione was having a dream . . . and fell back. As soon as he had stepped on them, the stairs had melted away. Curious, he tried again.

"You’re not a girl," Death said, watching him.

"Yes," the former chameleon said impatiently. "So?"

"That’s the girls’ dormitory."

"Yes, I know that! We’re supposed to see the fic!"

"You’re not allowed in there."

"Why?"

"It’s the rules." <<<<<<

Lasin awoke. He was at the base of the girls’ dorm, with Death no where in sight. He went to ascend the stairs, when a curious flash-back dream (his first ever dream, normally not being in the condition to do so) and paused. Then, coming up with a better plan, Lasin climbed up the walls (he thought he could, therefore he could. Amazing what usually being a lizard in a magical place can do to you) and dug his claws into the wood, going up into the girls’ dorm.

"Nice claws, but a little too late," Death said, noticing him. "She’s leaving with Legolas."

The chameleon was confused. What was going on? And why in the world was Death acting as if he should know? Pulling on a bit of logic, he checked the words . . .

Ah, yes: Legolas and Hermione were having identical visionary dreams. Suddenly, Legolas popped up in Hermione’s room, and she recognized him as the ‘man of her dreams’ and remembered that she loved him in those dreams. Over all, the word ‘dreams’ was used quite a bit.

Death, with Lasin the chameleon behind her, followed Legolas and Hermione to Dumbledore’s office to meet Gandalf, then to the infirmary, then here, then there, then lots of other places, then . . .

"You know, I never understood it."

"Understood what?"

"What they see in him. Girls, I mean."

"You are a girl."

"I’m a Death."

"So?"

"You’re a chameleon. Do you understand it?"

"I think it’s romantic. But I don’t see anything in him. Hermione’s pretty."

"Yes, but if they marry, he’ll lose his immortality."

"Did that ever stop an author before?"

"Have you noticed our profound lack of ‘said’s, ‘replied’s and whatnot?"

"No, why?"

"I’m getting tired of it. Let’s get back to the story."

It was rather amazing, really. They had lived through nine chapters, yet all that had happened was Legolas kissed, had strange dreams, talked about them, walked around together, and did Utterly Pointless Research.

But that’s not all. Shall we go on? Hermione and Legolas went to Diagon Alley. With a bag full of gold from Dumbledore.

"I’m getting board," Death said, for the millionth time. "Nothing has happened."

"Legolas is getting a wand, that should be interesting," Lasin argued, for the hundredth time (being slightly more creative than Death, he had managed a few different answers. It was funny how the exact millionth and hundredth matched up. . . .)

"So?"

"I want it."

"You’re a chameleon."

"So?"

"Fine."

But Lasin was actually right. On the very first wand, Legolas managed to blow up a book. Ollivander gave him another. Legolas blew up a book. Ollivander gave him another . . .

"You know," Lasin noted, "doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is a sign of insanity."

And after only half-an-hour, Ollivander was ready to quit.

"Not very dedicated anymore, is he," Death muttered.

"Well, he did run out of books."

"Good point."

But finally, Legolas found a wand: wood from an oak of the Golden Wood (funny, when did they have oaks there?) and a hair from the Lady Galadriel. It was almost funny. But . . .

"I’m sick of this fic," Death said. "This is dull. And the way we’re written is even worse. Legolas is the only one in HP, so let’s just get him out and be done."

"We should wait until something dramatic happens, like Voldemort kidnaps Hermione!"

"Do *you* want to go against him?"

"No."

"See."

"So we’re just going to stop at this incredibly undramatic junction? That’s it?"

"Yep. The wand is a sudden enough event to warrant it, and, anyway, I’ll take the blame at HQ."

"When I get back, I’m staying a chameleon."

Death sighed, and handed him the Remote Activator. A few moments later, she kicked Legolas through, and pulled Lasin in after her. She had no romance for interesting or lengthy descriptions in her soul.

"Yo, Legolas. Forget everything." Legolas stared at her.

"Why are you telling me such things, m’lady?"

"And stop that stupid dialect!"

"Allow me," Lasin gazed deeply into the elf’s eyes, and said: "forget everything you’re not supposed to remember. And give me your wand, useless as it probably is with the ingredients." Legolas obeyed, and, looking a little hazy, wandered off into Middle-earth.

"So, that’s it," Death said. "I’m bored."

"I’m finding a new partner. You’re boring, dull, dim, and don’t like me as a chameleon. And nothing interesting happens around you. And this wand is a dud. Goodbye." Lasin promptly portalled out, leaving Death in HP.

"Oh, well, I guess I’ll just have to stay here," she said.

But Middle-earth, not liking stupid agents along anymore than the chameleon, managed to send her back with its last out-of-characterness.

And that was the end of the end of the really boring fic.

[From: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1174304]