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Description
Absolute Rubbish
Based (Loosely) On the Works of:
JK Rowling - Harry Potter
George RR Martin - A Song of Ice and Fire
JRR Tolkien - Lord of the Rings
Stephenie Meyer - The Twilight Saga
Pirates of the Carribean
Gene Roddenberry - Star Trek
Cornelia Funke - Inkheart

The Fiction Backstage…

Flitwick was sulking. Dumbledore had been cracking short jokes again, and Filius Flitwick was not happy. It wasn't as if it was his fault that he was so short. You had to blame his parents and their genetics too.

In fact, Flitwick was so busy sulking over his fire whiskey that he almost didn't notice the equally short Tyrion Lannister sitting down next to him at the bar. Crowded as it was in the Three Broomsticks, it was almost impossible for the pair to see each other.

"Shouldn't you be in the A Song of Ice and Fire stage set?" Flitwick asked, straining to see his Lannister comrade-in-shortness.

"My sister has gone on a rampage," Tyrion explained, as if this would clarify everything. Flitwick decided he should start paying more attention to the other crews working on the Fiction Stage.

Shuffling between knees to the bar, the curly-haired head of a hobbit appeared, and Frodo Baggins pulled himself up on a stool, seeming a little out of breath from battling through the sea of legs. With him were the dwarf Gimli, and that curious little midget from Pirates of the Caribbean. "What are you all doing here?" Flitwick asked, confused. He himself rarely ventured out from the Harry Potter Stage Set- it was too dangerous for someone as short as him, and frankly hadn't seemed worth the trouble.

"While I was making sure I stayed out of Cersei's way," Tyrion began, "I bumped into these guys over at Middle Earth, and we found the Pirates guy on our way here." Tyrion smiled, as if this were all a great game. "We figured there were enough of us dwarves, hobbits and midgets to justify starting our own club."

"Club?" Flitwick asked, perplexed.

"Like a night club," the midget put in. "For short people."

Flitwick had to admit, he liked the idea. A club, for short people? One where you could see over the bar without getting up on the stool? One where you didn't have to make sure no one stepped on you on your way to the toilet? A club where people didn't tease you about "half-pints"?

"When and where?" Flitwick asked.

Fred and George Weasley probably would have admitted on their own that sneaking down to spy on the A Song of Ice and Fire cast was probably not the greatest idea, but boredom called for desperate action.

Even if the ASOIAF people still believed in beheadings.

Nothing could happen to them, right?

The directors would stop them… right?

Okay, maybe not.

"See anything?" George whispered.

"Not much," Fred muttered back, peering over the barrels of ale. "Except that the Cleganes are getting plastered."

"No surprise there," George muttered.

"Wait! Hot redhead at ten o'clock!"

George popped up with his own set of binoculars, following Fred's direction. The tall, buxom redhead that came into view was dressed entirely in blood red, and was talking to a bald man with a crown. "Who's the bald guy?" George asked.

"Stannis Baratheon, I think," Fred replied. "Whoa! Did you see that?"

George had- the amazingly hot woman had just lit a giant statue thingy of Harry on fire. She was gesticulating wildly and saying something to the bald Baratheon.

"Well that can't be good," Fred and George said in unison.

The night club was a huge success. Short characters from throughout all of Fandom flocked to it. The Twins from the Eragon crew were the deejays and for once, Flitwick wasn't afraid to cross the area between the bathroom and the bar.

Tyrion greeted him by pouring him another fire whiskey.

"You know, Tyrion," Flitwick said with a smile. "For all that your sister wants your head on a silver platter you're a good guy."

"I like to think so," Tyrion replied.

There was a commotion at the door, and the two looked over. Tyrion cursed. "Damn Clegane- Cersei must have sent him after me."

Sir Gregor Clegane, otherwise known as "The Mountain that Rides" (a reference to his height not his weight) seemed to be trying to force his way through the door.

"Maybe she just has something against short people," Frodo said, arming himself with a stool.

The Mountain that Rides had failed to count on one thing though- the fact that the short characters would defend their new gathering place. They swarmed like ants- Sir Gregor yelped something (Flitwick thought it sounded like "Mommy") - and when the short characters of Fandom receded, there was no visible trace of Gregor Clegane.

Flitwick stared.

"That was… unexpected," Tyrion said. Then, laughing- "Cersei will be furious!"

Jacob Black was not expecting to be ambushed by two men in their late thirties, each looking like they were disgusted by his very existence. It took him a second to realize they were from the Harry Potter stage- Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

"What's going on?" Jacob asked.

"You and your stupid Twilight friends!" Sirius snarled. "I was the most famous Black in existence before you came along!"

Jacob blinked.

"You call yourself a werewolf?" Remus snapped. "You run around without your shirt on and change into a wolf whenever you feel like it! Real werewolves don't have washboard abs, or change because they want to!"

Jacob was beginning to sense that he should probably not have wandered onto the Harry Potter set. They were very touchy about having their spotlight stolen, that bloodsucking leech Edward had said as much. Jacob took a step back.

"Toujours Pur, you prick!" Sirius snapped, pulling out his wand.

Jacob decided right then was a good time to run.

"Oh, innent he beautiful?" Hagrid sighed, admiring Drogon in flight.

Daenerys put her hands on her hips, keeping a close eye on the other two dragons, Viserion and Rhaegal. "They're my children," she said softly, shielding her purple eyes from the bright sunlight.

"I had a dragon once," Hagrid said sadly. "Norbert… well, Norberta in the end, but it's hard to tell with dragons, ain't it?"

Daenerys nodded. "What happened to… Norberta?"

"Had to ship 'im… uh, her off to Romania, to live with other dragons. Couldn't keep a dragon at a school now, could we?" Hagrid asked, smiling sadly. Daenerys could tell he wanted his dragon back, and couldn't blame him. She would never let anyone take her dragons away from her.

Much like a mad scientist in his lab, Severus Snape was pacing in the dungeons. The dunces from the Twilight crew had simply gotten too uppity. Their tripe was poisoning the minds of students everywhere (Snape swore if he found one more Hufflepuff girl sighing over one of the Cullens he would hang himself). It had to stop.

But how do you do away with an idiot teenage girl, a crew of sparkling "vampires" and supposed "werewolves"?

Swooping back and forth like an overgrown bat, Snape tried to think of ways of doing them all in at once. Wouldn't do to have him getting arrested before he managed to eliminate them…

Then, Snape had an idea. It was pure genius really, he was certain no one had thought of it before him.

He would poison them!

At least, if he managed to poison the girl, those two dunderheads Edward and Jacob would probably kill themselves (or each other), and then he could do in the rest of them easily.

It was genius.

Snape sat down and started hypothesizing ways he could slip something toxic into the Swan girl's food.

Fred and George had decided to keep an eye on the super-hot redheaded pyromaniac for the time being. Judging from how many pictures of Harry she was setting on fire, they thought it might be a good idea to let Harry know that a woman screaming about "R'hllor" from the ASOIAF group was probably thinking about murdering him.

Or at least setting him on fire.

Captain Jack Sparrow was a little upset that his ship was gone.

Did I say a little? Captain Jack Sparrow was pissed off.

He was pacing on the dock, wondering how that prick Barbarossa had managed to steal his ship yet again, when Durmstrang's ship broke the surface of the lake by Hogwarts. Technically speaking, Jack wasn't supposed to be at the Hogwarts Lake, but he'd needed someplace to think without Davy Jones trying to kill him.

Attempted murder had a way of being distracting.

Jack looked at the Durmstrang student's ship for a moment, and smiled to himself.

Sandor Clegane didn't have any real purpose in wandering through the other sets, except that everyone in the ASOIAF set wanted to kill him. So, maybe that's why it was better to walk through the Harry Potter set. They were less likely to attack him in the middle of the street.

He was looking around, wondering if it really was safe to be out in the open- he wasn't stupid, he knew the HP types, and that they could set something on fire whenever they wanted- when someone wearing a lot of black collided with him. Caught off guard, they both toppled to the ground, with Sandor having the stranger literally on top of him.

It turned out that they were both well acquainted with profanity, shoving one another away. Sandor glanced up and got his first look at the most beautiful black eyes he'd ever seen.

"Go back to your own set!" Snape snarled, and took off… smuggling something that looked suspiciously like a five pound bag of cyanide under his arm.

Igor Karkaroff was just leaving a lovely establishment in the ASOIAF set called "Chataya's" when Viktor Krum came running up to him. "Karkaroff," he panted, "The ship is gone!"

Karkaroff arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'the ship is gone'?"

"Some guy in a pirate hat-"

Karkaroff swore. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

"JACK SPARROW!" he roared.

Flitwick staggered a little, grinning.

"Easy there," Frodo said, catching Flitwick by the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Flitwick grinned, more than a little drunk. "I love you guys," he said to the hobbits. "You guys are awesome."

"He's drunk," Pippin observed.

"No kidding," Merry replied, blowing a puff of smoke into the air.

Merry was promptly tackled by the anti-smoking people.

Snape had the vague sensation he was being followed. He didn't think it was one of the Twilight people, at least, which would have ruined his entire plan.

Now, where was that ditz of a girl?

"…how dare you come near my Edward?!"

"How dare you come near my Cedric?!"

Snape paused, and turned the corner. He froze.

Cho Chang and Bella Swan were tumbling across the alley, ripping each other's hair out. Snape took a moment to wonder why everyone insisted on wandering across the Harry Potter set, and why they couldn't keep to their own. He stared at the two girls attacking each other, fists, elbows, knees, teeth and feet flying. He looked down at the sack of cyanide. He glanced at the girls again.

He'd probably get in trouble if he killed Chang along with Swan. Sighing in resignation, Snape turned around and started the walk back to Hogwarts.

Feeling he was being followed again, he glanced over his shoulder. The only person he saw though was the Hound from the ASOIAF crew, and he couldn't possibly be the one following him. For one thing, the Hound hated people.

Kind of like Snape did.

Albus Severus and Scorpius sat in the Three Broomsticks, sulking. "You realize we're only gonna get like twenty seconds of screen time?" Albus said.

"You're joking," Scorpius snapped. "I'm only gonna get three."

Their corner of The Three Broomsticks was considered the corner for all the main characters' kids. A girl with creepy amber eyes sat down across from them. "Hi," she said, "I'm Renesmee."

They stared at her.

"Ruh-nayz-may?" Albus asked.

Scorpius sat up. "You're that chick from the Twilight cast."

"Uh-huh," she said.

Albus and Scorpius glanced at each other. Then Albus started laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. "And I thought my name was bad!"

Fandom National News Headquarters…

"Are you sure about this, sir?" Frodo asked.

"Quite," Gandalf said lightly. "Our channel is the only channel that reaches all of Fandom. They've been looking for a show like this."

"Yes, but… Fandom Trekker? Won't Globe Trekker sue us? Copyright infringement or something like that?" Frodo looked over the proposal doubtfully. "I mean, all of Fandom already tunes in for FNN. Isn't that good enough?"

"Of course not. Ratings, my boy, ratings. Now, go type up a letter to Mr. Sparrow letting him know we approved his idea… but with a few minor edits."

"I just don't think that Uncle Bilbo is going to be very happy about this."

"Don't be ridiculous," Gandalf said dismissively, sipping at his elf wine. "Bilbo Baggins' Middle Earth will be in no way threatened by this."

"You remember Rick Steve's Europe tried to sue us when we first started that show?"

"The court thought they were insane. No one in that world believes we really exist, Frodo, just go with it." Gandalf smiled a little.

Just go with it? Frodo thought.

That Evening's FNN Broadcast…

"And now," Professor Binns said in his dull monotone, "It is time for our celebrity news section, run by…" Professor Binns frowned at the teleprompter. "Run by Varys the Spider."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Professor Binns," Varys said, his pale cheese-like face illuminated by the bright studio lights. "Now, I have some juicy news for you tonight, Fandom!" Varys smiled gleefully. "I know you've all been longing for somewhere to send your insane slash-loving fan girls. Well, I've found just the place! Professor Severus Snape of the Harry Potter set, and Sandor Clegane (otherwise known as the Hound) of my own ASOIAF set, were spotted together at the Three Broomsticks!

"…or more accurately the Hound was spotted stalking an oblivious Professor Snape."

Elsewhere…

Sansa stormed angrily through the Harry Potter set. This was ridiculous. She had terrible luck with men. First off her fiancé beheaded her father, then she was married off to his disfigured dwarf uncle, placed all her hope in the castle drunk, was accused of murdering Prince Joffrey, and was rescued by the only pedophile for miles! Now Sandor, who was supposed to be her angry, disfigured stalker, was stalking some beak-nosed Potions Master!

"Oh, no you don't," Sansa muttered. "I am not being left with Petyr Baelish!"

Severus Snape was sitting at the bar, drinking a fire whiskey, completely oblivious to the Hound making doe eyes at the back of his head. "Snape!" she snapped, storming across the bar.

The black eyed potions master turned slowly and looked down at Sansa. "Who are you?" he asked coolly.

"Sansa of House Stark," Sansa said imperiously, knowing she didn't have much to fear in the Harry Potter set. They wouldn't kill her, at least. "I demand to know what you're doing with my stalker!"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Your stalker?"

Sansa pointed. "Sandor of House Clegane," she said flatly. "He's my stalker."

Snape turned and glanced at the Hound, realized that the Hound had been following him all this time, and looked back down at Sansa. "Go away you impetuous little girl," he said flatly.

Sansa stared at him, shocked. "How dare you speak to me that way? I am Lady Sansa Stark of House Stark-"

Snape ignored her, getting up with his Fire Whiskey, and going over to talk to his newfound stalker.

FNN Evening Broadcast…

"And now," Professor Binns droned, "We bring to you an interview with our special guest, Jacob Black's Shirt."

The shirt, a green t-shirt, was sobbing quietly on set. "He doesn't love me anymore! Ever since he got all buff and werewolf-y things haven't been the same between us!"

"Mr. Jacob's Shirt," Frodo sighed, reading off of his list of questions, "Do you feel that Bella Swan has something to do with your abandonment?"

"She has everything to do with my abandonment!" the shirt wailed. "If it weren't for that stupid cow I would still be Jacob's Shirt! Now I'm just a dish rag!" The shirt dissolved into a fit of sobs.

Frodo looked at the camera, whispering- "Cut the shot!"

The next day…

Professor Binns droned onward, the teleprompter scrolling at a pace to match his speech. "…Here at FNN we are proud to announce that we will be hosting a dance competition in two weeks. Participants will be able to enter into whatever category they wish, and choose their own music. There will also be a performance by Mr. Dustfinger from the Inkheart Fandom. Now, a message from our sponsor, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

Back in Gandalf's office, Frodo was pacing worriedly in front of Gandalf's huge mahogany desk. Of course, the hobbit was so small; all Gandalf could see was Frodo's curly head moving back and forth. "Gandalf," Frodo said, turning to face his superior, "Are you sure this is a good idea? The Weasley twins contacted us to let us know that Melisandre of Asshai is running around screaming about setting Harry Potter on fire and sacrificing him to R'hllor or some such… and the boy will probably be there."

"Of course it's a good idea," Gandalf scoffed, admiring his new… bling. "Besides, now I'll get to show off my hip hop skillz."

Something in the way he said it made Frodo imagine a z at the end of "skills." He didn't much like the way Gandalf was talking… it made him uneasy.

"Gandalf?"

"Someone has to show that old coot at Hogwarts whose boss," Gandalf said fiercely. "I'm not letting Dumbledore show me up in the press anymore! I'm frakking Gandalf!"

"Right…" Frodo said, planning his escape method. "Gandalf… may I be excused? Planning for the dance competition, you understand."

"Yes, yes, of course," Gandalf said, leaning back in his chair to admire his bling further. It was a giant gold pendant of a wizard's hat, diamond encrusted.

Frodo got out as fast as his short little hobbit legs would allow.

Sandor was kind of surprised. Stranger, his douche bag of a horse, who didn't like anyone…

…liked Severus.

"This is odd," Severus commented as Stranger nuzzled him for the eightieth time. "Animals usually hate me."

"This animal usually hates everyone," Sandor replied, saddling his apparently love struck horse.

"Ah," Severus said, "That explains it then."

Like hell, Sandor thought.

"So you usually keep to the ASOIAF set?" Severus asked, trying to push the horse away.

"Mmhmm," Sandor said, watching his companion. He still couldn't believe his luck, having talked Severus into visiting the ASOIAF set with him. Now he just had to figure out how he would get a date…

Severus himself had a bit of a plan. This wasn't his first rodeo- he only realized a moment later how dirty that sounded- and he had no intentions of looking eager. If the other ASOIAF people he'd dated were anything to judge by, it was better to be close to indifferent than eager… which applied in all fandoms and was a sick and twisted rule of life, but he would play by it anyway.

After a minute, Sandor had an idea. "Do you want to see King's Landing?" he asked.

"I have a prior obligation," Severus said coolly. "I have to murder the Bella Swan girl of the Twilight set."

Sandor liked that idea. "Maybe I can help?" he offered. "I certainly hate them."

Severus considered this. He highly doubted that the Hound was much of a poison person… although seeing Swan beheaded would be just as entertaining.

"Alright," he conceded. "But I need a moment to prepare. I'm hoping that Swan's death will cause a chain reaction of suicides, thereby eliminating the Twilight set from Fandom."

Sandor felt his heart warming to the black-eyed Potions Master. This could be amazing- a Big Bonding Murder Date of Amazingness!

Then he just had to figure out how he would get Severus in bed…

Bella Swan was sitting in the café at Forks, trying to decide who she was going to love more today. She had a handful of daisies in her hand, picking the flowers off one by one, chanting, "Edward today, Jacob today, Edward today, Jacob today…"

So ensconced was this young idiot with her daisies and the question that defined her life, to be decided upon each and every morning, that she failed to notice the two dark and ugly men creeping up behind her, one with a wand the other with a sword. Of course, she had also failed to notice that these men had come barging into the café, knocked out the waitress, tied up the kid at the cash register and otherwise threatened the other people at the café with their lives while she was picking the petals off of her daisies.

Severus Snape and Sandor Clegane stared at the back of her head for a minute.

"Did she really not hear us come in?" Sandor asked.

"I don't know," Severus replied, befuddled. How even she could not have noticed that entrance was beyond him. He frowned sulkily, muttering- "Seven years of theatre classes gone to waste."

"Should we finish her off?" Sandor asked.

"You first. I want to see her beheaded."

Like any infatuated young man (although Sandor wasn't sure how much longer that term would apply to him- the young man part, that is- if it still did at all) he was eager to do whatever the object of his infatuation asked. He swung his sword at Bella Swan's neck, and it sliced through her like butter.

They looked at the bloody mess a moment- and then the most frightening thing they had ever seen happened.

"Oopsie," Bella's head said in a sing-song voice. "I seem to have lost my head." Her body reached over, picked up her head, and refastened it on her shoulders. Then she turned to smile at the two men. "Sorry, I must have been in your way."

They stared at her in shock- and then Severus realized what she was.

"MARY SUE!!!!" he howled, and Sandor and Severus fled as fast as they could.

Description
Absolute Rubbish
Based (Loosely) On the Works of:
JK Rowling - Harry Potter
George RR Martin - A Song of Ice and Fire
JRR Tolkien - Lord of the Rings
Stephenie Meyer - The Twilight Saga
Pirates of the Carribean
Gene Roddenberry - Star Trek
Cornelia Funke - Inkheart

The Fiction Backstage…

Flitwick was sulking. Dumbledore had been cracking short jokes again, and Filius Flitwick was not happy. It wasn't as if it was his fault that he was so short. You had to blame his parents and their genetics too.

In fact, Flitwick was so busy sulking over his fire whiskey that he almost didn't notice the equally short Tyrion Lannister sitting down next to him at the bar. Crowded as it was in the Three Broomsticks, it was almost impossible for the pair to see each other.

"Shouldn't you be in the A Song of Ice and Fire stage set?" Flitwick asked, straining to see his Lannister comrade-in-shortness.

"My sister has gone on a rampage," Tyrion explained, as if this would clarify everything. Flitwick decided he should start paying more attention to the other crews working on the Fiction Stage.

Shuffling between knees to the bar, the curly-haired head of a hobbit appeared, and Frodo Baggins pulled himself up on a stool, seeming a little out of breath from battling through the sea of legs. With him were the dwarf Gimli, and that curious little midget from Pirates of the Caribbean. "What are you all doing here?" Flitwick asked, confused. He himself rarely ventured out from the Harry Potter Stage Set- it was too dangerous for someone as short as him, and frankly hadn't seemed worth the trouble.

"While I was making sure I stayed out of Cersei's way," Tyrion began, "I bumped into these guys over at Middle Earth, and we found the Pirates guy on our way here." Tyrion smiled, as if this were all a great game. "We figured there were enough of us dwarves, hobbits and midgets to justify starting our own club."

"Club?" Flitwick asked, perplexed.

"Like a night club," the midget put in. "For short people."

Flitwick had to admit, he liked the idea. A club, for short people? One where you could see over the bar without getting up on the stool? One where you didn't have to make sure no one stepped on you on your way to the toilet? A club where people didn't tease you about "half-pints"?

"When and where?" Flitwick asked.

Fred and George Weasley probably would have admitted on their own that sneaking down to spy on the A Song of Ice and Fire cast was probably not the greatest idea, but boredom called for desperate action.

Even if the ASOIAF people still believed in beheadings.

Nothing could happen to them, right?

The directors would stop them… right?

Okay, maybe not.

"See anything?" George whispered.

"Not much," Fred muttered back, peering over the barrels of ale. "Except that the Cleganes are getting plastered."

"No surprise there," George muttered.

"Wait! Hot redhead at ten o'clock!"

George popped up with his own set of binoculars, following Fred's direction. The tall, buxom redhead that came into view was dressed entirely in blood red, and was talking to a bald man with a crown. "Who's the bald guy?" George asked.

"Stannis Baratheon, I think," Fred replied. "Whoa! Did you see that?"

George had- the amazingly hot woman had just lit a giant statue thingy of Harry on fire. She was gesticulating wildly and saying something to the bald Baratheon.

"Well that can't be good," Fred and George said in unison.

The night club was a huge success. Short characters from throughout all of Fandom flocked to it. The Twins from the Eragon crew were the deejays and for once, Flitwick wasn't afraid to cross the area between the bathroom and the bar.

Tyrion greeted him by pouring him another fire whiskey.

"You know, Tyrion," Flitwick said with a smile. "For all that your sister wants your head on a silver platter you're a good guy."

"I like to think so," Tyrion replied.

There was a commotion at the door, and the two looked over. Tyrion cursed. "Damn Clegane- Cersei must have sent him after me."

Sir Gregor Clegane, otherwise known as "The Mountain that Rides" (a reference to his height not his weight) seemed to be trying to force his way through the door.

"Maybe she just has something against short people," Frodo said, arming himself with a stool.

The Mountain that Rides had failed to count on one thing though- the fact that the short characters would defend their new gathering place. They swarmed like ants- Sir Gregor yelped something (Flitwick thought it sounded like "Mommy") - and when the short characters of Fandom receded, there was no visible trace of Gregor Clegane.

Flitwick stared.

"That was… unexpected," Tyrion said. Then, laughing- "Cersei will be furious!"

Jacob Black was not expecting to be ambushed by two men in their late thirties, each looking like they were disgusted by his very existence. It took him a second to realize they were from the Harry Potter stage- Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

"What's going on?" Jacob asked.

"You and your stupid Twilight friends!" Sirius snarled. "I was the most famous Black in existence before you came along!"

Jacob blinked.

"You call yourself a werewolf?" Remus snapped. "You run around without your shirt on and change into a wolf whenever you feel like it! Real werewolves don't have washboard abs, or change because they want to!"

Jacob was beginning to sense that he should probably not have wandered onto the Harry Potter set. They were very touchy about having their spotlight stolen, that bloodsucking leech Edward had said as much. Jacob took a step back.

"Toujours Pur, you prick!" Sirius snapped, pulling out his wand.

Jacob decided right then was a good time to run.

"Oh, innent he beautiful?" Hagrid sighed, admiring Drogon in flight.

Daenerys put her hands on her hips, keeping a close eye on the other two dragons, Viserion and Rhaegal. "They're my children," she said softly, shielding her purple eyes from the bright sunlight.

"I had a dragon once," Hagrid said sadly. "Norbert… well, Norberta in the end, but it's hard to tell with dragons, ain't it?"

Daenerys nodded. "What happened to… Norberta?"

"Had to ship 'im… uh, her off to Romania, to live with other dragons. Couldn't keep a dragon at a school now, could we?" Hagrid asked, smiling sadly. Daenerys could tell he wanted his dragon back, and couldn't blame him. She would never let anyone take her dragons away from her.

Much like a mad scientist in his lab, Severus Snape was pacing in the dungeons. The dunces from the Twilight crew had simply gotten too uppity. Their tripe was poisoning the minds of students everywhere (Snape swore if he found one more Hufflepuff girl sighing over one of the Cullens he would hang himself). It had to stop.

But how do you do away with an idiot teenage girl, a crew of sparkling "vampires" and supposed "werewolves"?

Swooping back and forth like an overgrown bat, Snape tried to think of ways of doing them all in at once. Wouldn't do to have him getting arrested before he managed to eliminate them…

Then, Snape had an idea. It was pure genius really, he was certain no one had thought of it before him.

He would poison them!

At least, if he managed to poison the girl, those two dunderheads Edward and Jacob would probably kill themselves (or each other), and then he could do in the rest of them easily.

It was genius.

Snape sat down and started hypothesizing ways he could slip something toxic into the Swan girl's food.

Fred and George had decided to keep an eye on the super-hot redheaded pyromaniac for the time being. Judging from how many pictures of Harry she was setting on fire, they thought it might be a good idea to let Harry know that a woman screaming about "R'hllor" from the ASOIAF group was probably thinking about murdering him.

Or at least setting him on fire.

Captain Jack Sparrow was a little upset that his ship was gone.

Did I say a little? Captain Jack Sparrow was pissed off.

He was pacing on the dock, wondering how that prick Barbarossa had managed to steal his ship yet again, when Durmstrang's ship broke the surface of the lake by Hogwarts. Technically speaking, Jack wasn't supposed to be at the Hogwarts Lake, but he'd needed someplace to think without Davy Jones trying to kill him.

Attempted murder had a way of being distracting.

Jack looked at the Durmstrang student's ship for a moment, and smiled to himself.

Sandor Clegane didn't have any real purpose in wandering through the other sets, except that everyone in the ASOIAF set wanted to kill him. So, maybe that's why it was better to walk through the Harry Potter set. They were less likely to attack him in the middle of the street.

He was looking around, wondering if it really was safe to be out in the open- he wasn't stupid, he knew the HP types, and that they could set something on fire whenever they wanted- when someone wearing a lot of black collided with him. Caught off guard, they both toppled to the ground, with Sandor having the stranger literally on top of him.

It turned out that they were both well acquainted with profanity, shoving one another away. Sandor glanced up and got his first look at the most beautiful black eyes he'd ever seen.

"Go back to your own set!" Snape snarled, and took off… smuggling something that looked suspiciously like a five pound bag of cyanide under his arm.

Igor Karkaroff was just leaving a lovely establishment in the ASOIAF set called "Chataya's" when Viktor Krum came running up to him. "Karkaroff," he panted, "The ship is gone!"

Karkaroff arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'the ship is gone'?"

"Some guy in a pirate hat-"

Karkaroff swore. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

"JACK SPARROW!" he roared.

Flitwick staggered a little, grinning.

"Easy there," Frodo said, catching Flitwick by the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Flitwick grinned, more than a little drunk. "I love you guys," he said to the hobbits. "You guys are awesome."

"He's drunk," Pippin observed.

"No kidding," Merry replied, blowing a puff of smoke into the air.

Merry was promptly tackled by the anti-smoking people.

Snape had the vague sensation he was being followed. He didn't think it was one of the Twilight people, at least, which would have ruined his entire plan.

Now, where was that ditz of a girl?

"…how dare you come near my Edward?!"

"How dare you come near my Cedric?!"

Snape paused, and turned the corner. He froze.

Cho Chang and Bella Swan were tumbling across the alley, ripping each other's hair out. Snape took a moment to wonder why everyone insisted on wandering across the Harry Potter set, and why they couldn't keep to their own. He stared at the two girls attacking each other, fists, elbows, knees, teeth and feet flying. He looked down at the sack of cyanide. He glanced at the girls again.

He'd probably get in trouble if he killed Chang along with Swan. Sighing in resignation, Snape turned around and started the walk back to Hogwarts.

Feeling he was being followed again, he glanced over his shoulder. The only person he saw though was the Hound from the ASOIAF crew, and he couldn't possibly be the one following him. For one thing, the Hound hated people.

Kind of like Snape did.

Albus Severus and Scorpius sat in the Three Broomsticks, sulking. "You realize we're only gonna get like twenty seconds of screen time?" Albus said.

"You're joking," Scorpius snapped. "I'm only gonna get three."

Their corner of The Three Broomsticks was considered the corner for all the main characters' kids. A girl with creepy amber eyes sat down across from them. "Hi," she said, "I'm Renesmee."

They stared at her.

"Ruh-nayz-may?" Albus asked.

Scorpius sat up. "You're that chick from the Twilight cast."

"Uh-huh," she said.

Albus and Scorpius glanced at each other. Then Albus started laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. "And I thought my name was bad!"

Fandom National News Headquarters…

"Are you sure about this, sir?" Frodo asked.

"Quite," Gandalf said lightly. "Our channel is the only channel that reaches all of Fandom. They've been looking for a show like this."

"Yes, but… Fandom Trekker? Won't Globe Trekker sue us? Copyright infringement or something like that?" Frodo looked over the proposal doubtfully. "I mean, all of Fandom already tunes in for FNN. Isn't that good enough?"

"Of course not. Ratings, my boy, ratings. Now, go type up a letter to Mr. Sparrow letting him know we approved his idea… but with a few minor edits."

"I just don't think that Uncle Bilbo is going to be very happy about this."

"Don't be ridiculous," Gandalf said dismissively, sipping at his elf wine. "Bilbo Baggins' Middle Earth will be in no way threatened by this."

"You remember Rick Steve's Europe tried to sue us when we first started that show?"

"The court thought they were insane. No one in that world believes we really exist, Frodo, just go with it." Gandalf smiled a little.

Just go with it? Frodo thought.

That Evening's FNN Broadcast…

"And now," Professor Binns said in his dull monotone, "It is time for our celebrity news section, run by…" Professor Binns frowned at the teleprompter. "Run by Varys the Spider."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Professor Binns," Varys said, his pale cheese-like face illuminated by the bright studio lights. "Now, I have some juicy news for you tonight, Fandom!" Varys smiled gleefully. "I know you've all been longing for somewhere to send your insane slash-loving fan girls. Well, I've found just the place! Professor Severus Snape of the Harry Potter set, and Sandor Clegane (otherwise known as the Hound) of my own ASOIAF set, were spotted together at the Three Broomsticks!

"…or more accurately the Hound was spotted stalking an oblivious Professor Snape."

Elsewhere…

Sansa stormed angrily through the Harry Potter set. This was ridiculous. She had terrible luck with men. First off her fiancé beheaded her father, then she was married off to his disfigured dwarf uncle, placed all her hope in the castle drunk, was accused of murdering Prince Joffrey, and was rescued by the only pedophile for miles! Now Sandor, who was supposed to be her angry, disfigured stalker, was stalking some beak-nosed Potions Master!

"Oh, no you don't," Sansa muttered. "I am not being left with Petyr Baelish!"

Severus Snape was sitting at the bar, drinking a fire whiskey, completely oblivious to the Hound making doe eyes at the back of his head. "Snape!" she snapped, storming across the bar.

The black eyed potions master turned slowly and looked down at Sansa. "Who are you?" he asked coolly.

"Sansa of House Stark," Sansa said imperiously, knowing she didn't have much to fear in the Harry Potter set. They wouldn't kill her, at least. "I demand to know what you're doing with my stalker!"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Your stalker?"

Sansa pointed. "Sandor of House Clegane," she said flatly. "He's my stalker."

Snape turned and glanced at the Hound, realized that the Hound had been following him all this time, and looked back down at Sansa. "Go away you impetuous little girl," he said flatly.

Sansa stared at him, shocked. "How dare you speak to me that way? I am Lady Sansa Stark of House Stark-"

Snape ignored her, getting up with his Fire Whiskey, and going over to talk to his newfound stalker.

FNN Evening Broadcast…

"And now," Professor Binns droned, "We bring to you an interview with our special guest, Jacob Black's Shirt."

The shirt, a green t-shirt, was sobbing quietly on set. "He doesn't love me anymore! Ever since he got all buff and werewolf-y things haven't been the same between us!"

"Mr. Jacob's Shirt," Frodo sighed, reading off of his list of questions, "Do you feel that Bella Swan has something to do with your abandonment?"

"She has everything to do with my abandonment!" the shirt wailed. "If it weren't for that stupid cow I would still be Jacob's Shirt! Now I'm just a dish rag!" The shirt dissolved into a fit of sobs.

Frodo looked at the camera, whispering- "Cut the shot!"

The next day…

Professor Binns droned onward, the teleprompter scrolling at a pace to match his speech. "…Here at FNN we are proud to announce that we will be hosting a dance competition in two weeks. Participants will be able to enter into whatever category they wish, and choose their own music. There will also be a performance by Mr. Dustfinger from the Inkheart Fandom. Now, a message from our sponsor, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

Back in Gandalf's office, Frodo was pacing worriedly in front of Gandalf's huge mahogany desk. Of course, the hobbit was so small; all Gandalf could see was Frodo's curly head moving back and forth. "Gandalf," Frodo said, turning to face his superior, "Are you sure this is a good idea? The Weasley twins contacted us to let us know that Melisandre of Asshai is running around screaming about setting Harry Potter on fire and sacrificing him to R'hllor or some such… and the boy will probably be there."

"Of course it's a good idea," Gandalf scoffed, admiring his new… bling. "Besides, now I'll get to show off my hip hop skillz."

Something in the way he said it made Frodo imagine a z at the end of "skills." He didn't much like the way Gandalf was talking… it made him uneasy.

"Gandalf?"

"Someone has to show that old coot at Hogwarts whose boss," Gandalf said fiercely. "I'm not letting Dumbledore show me up in the press anymore! I'm frakking Gandalf!"

"Right…" Frodo said, planning his escape method. "Gandalf… may I be excused? Planning for the dance competition, you understand."

"Yes, yes, of course," Gandalf said, leaning back in his chair to admire his bling further. It was a giant gold pendant of a wizard's hat, diamond encrusted.

Frodo got out as fast as his short little hobbit legs would allow.

Sandor was kind of surprised. Stranger, his douche bag of a horse, who didn't like anyone…

…liked Severus.

"This is odd," Severus commented as Stranger nuzzled him for the eightieth time. "Animals usually hate me."

"This animal usually hates everyone," Sandor replied, saddling his apparently love struck horse.

"Ah," Severus said, "That explains it then."

Like hell, Sandor thought.

"So you usually keep to the ASOIAF set?" Severus asked, trying to push the horse away.

"Mmhmm," Sandor said, watching his companion. He still couldn't believe his luck, having talked Severus into visiting the ASOIAF set with him. Now he just had to figure out how he would get a date…

Severus himself had a bit of a plan. This wasn't his first rodeo- he only realized a moment later how dirty that sounded- and he had no intentions of looking eager. If the other ASOIAF people he'd dated were anything to judge by, it was better to be close to indifferent than eager… which applied in all fandoms and was a sick and twisted rule of life, but he would play by it anyway.

After a minute, Sandor had an idea. "Do you want to see King's Landing?" he asked.

"I have a prior obligation," Severus said coolly. "I have to murder the Bella Swan girl of the Twilight set."

Sandor liked that idea. "Maybe I can help?" he offered. "I certainly hate them."

Severus considered this. He highly doubted that the Hound was much of a poison person… although seeing Swan beheaded would be just as entertaining.

"Alright," he conceded. "But I need a moment to prepare. I'm hoping that Swan's death will cause a chain reaction of suicides, thereby eliminating the Twilight set from Fandom."

Sandor felt his heart warming to the black-eyed Potions Master. This could be amazing- a Big Bonding Murder Date of Amazingness!

Then he just had to figure out how he would get Severus in bed…

Bella Swan was sitting in the café at Forks, trying to decide who she was going to love more today. She had a handful of daisies in her hand, picking the flowers off one by one, chanting, "Edward today, Jacob today, Edward today, Jacob today…"

So ensconced was this young idiot with her daisies and the question that defined her life, to be decided upon each and every morning, that she failed to notice the two dark and ugly men creeping up behind her, one with a wand the other with a sword. Of course, she had also failed to notice that these men had come barging into the café, knocked out the waitress, tied up the kid at the cash register and otherwise threatened the other people at the café with their lives while she was picking the petals off of her daisies.

Severus Snape and Sandor Clegane stared at the back of her head for a minute.

"Did she really not hear us come in?" Sandor asked.

"I don't know," Severus replied, befuddled. How even she could not have noticed that entrance was beyond him. He frowned sulkily, muttering- "Seven years of theatre classes gone to waste."

"Should we finish her off?" Sandor asked.

"You first. I want to see her beheaded."

Like any infatuated young man (although Sandor wasn't sure how much longer that term would apply to him- the young man part, that is- if it still did at all) he was eager to do whatever the object of his infatuation asked. He swung his sword at Bella Swan's neck, and it sliced through her like butter.

They looked at the bloody mess a moment- and then the most frightening thing they had ever seen happened.

"Oopsie," Bella's head said in a sing-song voice. "I seem to have lost my head." Her body reached over, picked up her head, and refastened it on her shoulders. Then she turned to smile at the two men. "Sorry, I must have been in your way."

They stared at her in shock- and then Severus realized what she was.

"MARY SUE!!!!" he howled, and Sandor and Severus fled as fast as they could.