Ally White received the call late one evening, grabbed her Portkey, and within seconds found herself in Oedipus Inferno, the secret headquarters of the Order of the Sphinx. Mind you, Oedipus Inferno should not be confused with the Plagiarists’ Inferno, down in the bowels of the castle, from whence issued the dreadful screams every other Tuesday. No, Oedipus Inferno was actually quite nice, with individual dormitories for each member of the Order and a real armory (complete with thermal detonators, battle-axes, tribbles, and Stilton, much to Leo Haven’s amusement). Ever since she had returned to HFA as captain of the Order, Oedipus Inferno had become Ally’s second home.

There was little time to contemplate that, though, as the second Ally arrived there was a small pop from the fireplace, and Mad-Eye Moody’s grizzled head appeared behind the grate. “Afternoon,” he growled, spotting Ally. “You’re needed down by the Hogsmeade gate.”

“Hello, Professor Moody,” yawned Ally. “Stampede?” She thought vaguely of the conspiracy the Order had uncovered that involved Wingnut, Katie, and Sparky of the Fellowship of the Peeves, creamed corn, and an uncommonly large pair of bowling shoes.

“No, none of that,” said Moody gruffly. “Just hurry up and bring a couple of the Order, too.” There was another pop and Moody’s head disappeared.

Ally put on her heavy gold-trimmed cloak and glanced around the common area. “Rhiannon, Newmoon! There’s something going on at the gate; we’re needed.”

It was late afternoon at HFA, and the sun hung golden just above the lake. This was the riskiest time for lust-objects to wander around the campus, as classes had just let out, and hormones were at their highest (as witnessed in the case of Matt the Unfortunate of Lusterbuff, who happened to lust after Ginny and Luna. As far as Ally knew, he was still hiding from the bat bogies).

The former Canonlaw, Rhiannon, and Newmoon strode over the grassy sward toward the gate, each armed with wand, dagger, and garlic. Newmoon had the phoenix feather Fawkes had given her plaited into her hair, but apart from that the three members of the Order wore little ornamentation. Necklaces, earrings, and scarfs were health hazards when confronted with a kicking, clawing fangirl.

“Know what this is about?” asked Rhiannon, looking carefully at the bushes lest they get ambushed by an overzealous Lusterbuff in the throes of hormones (or perhaps even by Catootje, who sought the Mirror of Erised with unblinking devotion, and had thus become a bit mental).

“Moody didn’t say,” Ally replied. “Here we are.”

Hagrid, Moody, Griphook, and Miss Brin were waiting for them by the gate. Ally was surprised; there didn’t appear to be a crowd of students that needed riot control. She wasn’t that concerned, though. She would have known if there had been a Canonquake.

Griphook was examining something on the metal bars. “... done by hand, but not without magic. One needs powerful magic to get through the wards around these doors.”

“Sueishly powerful magic, I’d say,” growled Moody. “Call for some white bloodhounds; we should track them down and find the nest before they spread. This Canon has too many of those prissies; we’d do well to destroy a few more while we have the time.”

“That’s the PPC’s job, not ours,” said Miss Brin. “Hello, Ally, Newmoon, Rhiannon. There’s been a bit of... trouble.”

“One of th’ student’s gone an’ tried ter escape HFA,” supplied Hagrid. “Tha’s the closes’ we’ve got ter.”

“It couldn’t be a student,” said Moody. “They haven’t the power to break something as heavily warded as the Hogwarts gate. No, we’ve got a god-playing Sue on the loose, I’d wager,” he said, taking a swig from his hip-flask. “Probably thinks she’s real clever, too, picking a fight with us.”

“I don’t think it’s either,” said Griphook nasally, glowering at the two. “The Sue would just manifest inside, and the students haven’t tired themselves out hunting their lust-objects yet. That and the...”

“Was there anyone around here when this was... discovered?” asked Rhiannon, going over to touch the heavy notches that had been made in the iron. Miss Brin tried to say something, but there was a loud snap and Rhiannon pulled her hand back, smarting.

“There’re charms on it,” said Miss Brin, a little too late.

“Well, what other possibilities do we have here?” asked Ally, handing Rhiannon her emergency supply of pain-killing salve. (She had filched it from Madam Pomfrey, but would die before letting the woman catch her. Ally learned from the mistakes of Gwynhafra Gammet, who had stolen some mild remedies after Broderick Bode had caught her hanging about his quarters. The vengeance of Broderick Bode was a tin tractor compared to the seven-ton industrial-sized steamroller that was the vengeance of Madam Pomfrey.) “The students—”

“Jus’ what I was thinkin’,” said Hagrid, stamping his foot in a minor earthquake. “Snape an’ Karkaroff were talkin’ about it some time ago.” He disarmed his crossbow and leaned it against the wall. “Mark, it was the Fender-boy tha’ was prowlin’ ’round here, an’ he ain’t too fond o’ HFA. I could see ’im doin’ somethin’ like this.”

“He’s the one Voldeymort the Mini-Pokégog was yo-yoing from the Astronomy Tower yesterday?” asked Newmoon.

“No, that was The Joiner. Fender’s the depressed pseudo-goth, if I recall correctly,” answered Rhiannon.

Miss Brin nodded. “So hard to keep track of the students this year. Crabbe and Goyle are still processing species requests, and they haven’t even started on most of the luxury items yet. It’s a good thing all of our returning second-year license-violators are already on file, or we would still be working.”

“As I was saying,” broke in Griphook, glaring at the others, “it couldn’t be a student or a Potterverse Mary Sue. Neither would make such a mark on these gates. There’s a trace of metal in the groove that I’ve never seen before... It’s not native to the Potterverse,” he prompted, seeing their blank stares.

“Crossovers?” asked Ally.

“Possibly, but the only fandom that feuds famously with Potterverse is The Lord of the Rings, and we would have heard it from Miss Cam if something had been up,” rationalized Miss Brin.

Griphook picked up a small flake of silvery metal and gave it to Ally. “You’ll have to find out what this is some other way, then,” he said. Nodding to the canon characters and uncanon staff, he began to walk back toward the castle.

Moody and Hagrid turned back to the gate, arguing about the nature of the vandal. Ally turned over the shard in her hand, then pocketed it carefully. What could possibly want to get into HFA, or for that matter, get out? Actually, those were stupid questions, as many students wouldn’t say no to getting out of the school, and there were always Sues looking for lust-objects within the Academy. But somehow, that didn’t fit. Something else had its sights on HFA, and Ally wasn’t sure what it was. Still, it couldn’t be as bad as last year’s fiasco, could it?

Some time later, the bell chimed for dinner, and Hagrid picked up his crossbow once again. “Not much else we c’n do now,” he said gruffly. Whistling sharply, the gamekeeper called Rubens and Rebeus the Mini-Aragogs. “Watch this gate, an’ don’t let anyone start sawin’ at it again,” he directed.

The party started up the sloping track to the castle, Ally bringing up the rear. She looked up as Miss Brin fell back beside her. “Yes?”

“I’d like to get an inter-continuum check done on that metal,” said the HFA coordinator in a businesslike manner. “Tonight, if possible.”

“At the PPC Headquarters?” asked Ally, pulling the shard out of her pocket. It glittered like the metal it was. “Sure, if you really want to. I’ve... ah... never been there, though.”

“Foo Powder; it’s not a problem,” said Miss Brin, waving the question off quickly. “There’s a box of it on the mantle in Oedipus Inferno, I believe. Could you be off tonight?”

This seemed strange to Ally. Whereas some bosses were “at my command” sorts, Miss Brin was more of an “at your leisure.” At least in regards to the uncanon staff. Not in the cases of the students. Especially if they attempted rituals to transport Cap’n Jack Sparrow magically into Potterverse, like a certain Slashering whose name began with a K and rhymed with Rat Sparrow, or tried to get Harry and Draco together against their will like another Slashering whose name began with M and rhymed with Rystellia. They ended up in a situation that began with a P and rhymed with Rain.

“Of course,” said Ally, quickening her pace. “But are your sure this isn’t kind of an overreaction? If you don’t mind me saying. I thought when Madison Black had an... erm... ‘lycanthropic episode’ in order to capture Sirius, we should have come down like so many bricks, but we let her off with just a couple weeks of detainment with Bellatrix and Narcissa. This, well, this doesn’t seem quite as bad...”

Miss Brin frowned, remembering the incident. “I... I suppose,” she said. “Consider it more of a... precaution.” And she then she rubbed her temples as if she had a headache.