Ally let herself be herded along down the passageway to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Nearly-Headless Nick floated along above them, keeping an eye out for any students who might have a mind to glomp. This was the seeing-off party, and many of the students were weeping openly.

“I don’t want Remus to d-d-die!” wept Neshomeh. “Or Sn-sn-snape!”

Carrying a small bundle of personal belongings over his shoulder, the Potions master muttered, “Sometimes I think it would be nice to go where they cannot get me” as he swept into the girls’ bathroom.

Cedric Diggory sniffed from his place in the line, eyes fixed upon the fanwriters. “It’s no bundle of roses being dead, either,” he said. “Half of them want to hug me, and the other half say ‘At least it was you and not Draco’...”

Ally felt the crowd fill in their side of the corridor and came to a stop. Someone—probably Hermione, it looked like her handiwork—had thought to conjure up police tape around their area. With the absence of the Mini-Aragogs, the Canon Characters had had to think of new ways to repel their lusters. This police tape was one of them. If any fanwriter sought to cross it, the tape would immediately come to life and bind them up, all the while playing old Village People songs on a flat accordion.

Morchaint and Michelle Solo watched the proceedings with misty eyes bordering on reverence. Or that may just have been the fact that Bludgers had hit both of them in their Quidditch final. Still, whenever Remus Lupin walked by (appearing paranoid and shooting apprehensive looks at the fanwriters every three seconds), Michelle Solo raised her hand and waved. Lupin quickened his pace.

It’s such a shame, Ally thought. The fangirls do give a lot of us a bad name. Many of these people just want to be friends with the Canon Characters.

And then she looked over at Amber, who was ogling the Weasley twins in a mixture of worship and fanatic adoration. Fred saw her and waved cheerfully, elbowing George. He waved as well, and tossed a cookie into the crowd. Five seconds later, Amber had transformed into a large paperclip and back again, screaming, “I was the Weasleys’ paperclip! I was the Weasleys’ paperclip!”

And then there were those who just loved the Canon Characters for their sheer awesomeness. Ally smiled, and then noticed Mika Sei jumping up and down, shouting “DRACO! DRACO!”

There were those sorts, too.

Leaning against the wall, Ally mused that she had been all three of those types. All sorts make a world. In fanfiction we just seem to have more... variety.

*********

Meir Brin paced back and forth along the familiar thoroughfare of Aerobics Lair. It was deserted. The Canon Characters had gone yesterday, leaving a quiet, eerie hall that echoed in its emptiness. It also stank, vaguely, and Meir Brin was pretty sure that Hagrid had left a stoat sandwich in his room. Concern about what else Hagrid kept in his quarters was the only thing that prevented her from going to dispose of it. She did not want to come face to face with a chimera or something so soon before the Canon change. Checking the timepiece on the wall, the HFA coordinator felt her insides writhe. Less than an hour until midnight. Less than an hour until Book the Fifth.

It was time to rouse the students, then.

First stop was the Lusterbuff common room. “Up, up!” Meir Brin cried, pounding on the wall. A dozen girls tumbled out of the dormitories, fully dressed and looking eager.

“Are they back yet?” asked Mystikalolo, pulling on her yellow robes over the ordinary Muggle clothes that the students had brought from home. “Can we see them?”

“No, it’s not even midnight,” said Meir Brin as the rest of the house massed in the common room. “I want you all to go to the Great Hall and sit down. This is for your own good, so don’t even think about sneaking into the Chamber of Secrets. None of you put Parseltongue down on your application, so you can’t get in.”

Alex and Gaia Myles groaned and shuffled past the coordinator, muttering things like “I knew I should have said ‘demigod’,” or “Why couldn’t they have hidden in the Forbidden Forest? I’d have risked a werewolf bite for Remus...”

Meir Brin shook her head, making for the Slashering dormitories now. Forty minutes until midnight...

“Get dressed!” she said, bursting through the dungeon entrance. “All must report down to the Great Hall, and hurry!”

C-Chan peeked blearily out from under a cushion. “Does this have to do with the peanut butter sandwiches I packed for Snape?”

Meir Brin bit back a bark of laughter. So that’s where those things had come from. Snape had not been pleased, to say the least, especially after the sandwiches had become sentient and tried to coat his hair with jelly and crunchy peanut butter. “No, no,” she said, ushering the green-clad students out. “The Canon Characters have their bunker, you have yours.”

She then started up the staircase, turning down a hallway for the Canonlaw rooms. Most of the students there were awake, roasting marshmallows in their fire and chatting about what would happen next in the series.

“But why?” asked Dana Dancer in response to Meir Brin’s announcement that they were clearing out. “Can we at least bring our marshmallows?”

Meir Brin glared in true Elrond fashion, yet let the bag of sugar slip by. Should keep them occupied for a while, she thought. Even if they are scraping each other off the ceiling.

After the flurry of blue-cloaked fanwriters passed, Meir Brin set up the stairs again for Wantingmor. Wantingmor was the only house that didn’t move around sporadically like the others, as it had a very firm place of residence behind a portrait. Lusterbuff could be anywhere from the lowest dungeon to the fourth floor on good days, whereas Canonlaw had been known to jump from the east side to the west side of the castle every other week.

“Remembrall,” said Meir Brin, and the portrait opened (the Fat Lady was absent, in the Canon bunker, though).

Wantingmor House looked like a graveyard complete with its own mourners. All of its inhabitants were seated in the common area, staring at the fireplace. Some were swapping last-minute predictions about the coming of the fifth novel, while others were burning incense to J.K. Rowling that she might not kill off their favorite characters.

“Great Hall, now.”

Smego Baggins yawned, and the fanwriters shuffled to the door. Their robes were a light red, bordering on pink without actually being pastel. Meir Brin tapped her foot on the floor, looking at the hourglass that told the time. “Hurry up, you lot! We only have twenty minutes left!”

“S-sorry,” yawned Molly Morgan. “Been up all night for the past three d-d-days,” she said, stifling another sign of how tired she was.

“That’s your problem,” said Meir Brin.

Much to her dissatisfaction, the Wantingmors did not move any faster. Time for drastic measures, thought Meir Brin. Clearing her throat, she said, “They have Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix waiting down there...”

By the time the dust cleared, Meir Brin was the only one in the corridor.

“That’s better...” muttered she. Meir Brin checked her watch again. Fifteen minutes.

It was strange to walk through a deserted castle. Even more so without the Mini-Aragogs. Wherever they were, Meir Brin was really starting to miss them. She just reached the Great Hall when the time of five until midnight came. The fanwriters milled around, there eyes bleary yet impatient.

“Where’s the book?” asked Dethryl impatiently.

“It’s not here yet!” barked Dark One Shadowphyre. Salsa, Shadowphyre’s junior trainee-assistant, nodded fiercely and muttered things along the lines of “What she said!”

“In case you all have not noticed, it is not midnight yet,” said Meir Brin to the large crowd that was looking for the fifth book.

“We want it now!” said Grandmomma Longlegs.

“Yes, precious!” squeaked Andtauriel Longwood-Baggins.

“Hold on to your britches! It’ll be here soon eno—”

The fanwriters and uncanon staff were thrown to their knees as the ground shifted in a smooth sort of earthquake. It was as if someone had turned the castle’s foundations into pudding and was tilting the world back and forth to see it rock. Somewhere above them, a clock chimed midnight.