Charing Cross is Not King's Cross - Fall Out Boy, MCR/Harry Potter
Title: Charing Cross is Not King's Cross Author: princess_witch (AKA ktsprincesswitch on LJ) Fandom: Bandom (Specifically Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance)/Harry Potter! Pairing: None Rating: PG Length: 3,317 words Warnings: None Summary: For pandorathene. Pete's adventures in London, with special guest stars. Notes: My best attempt at Gen Humor. For anyone not familiar with the primary fandom, yes there are Real People in it. Beta'd by kaciagemini @ LJ
“So, are you planning anything else while you’re in London, Pete?” Gerard asked, flopping down in the seat next to him. Pete was staring out the plane window, lost in thought.
“Pete? Hey, Pete, are you in there?”
‘What? Oh – Sorry. I … haven’t been sleeping a whole lot lately.” Pete flashed him a crooked grin. Not sleeping was the story of his life. At least right now it was a good kind of not sleeping – between planning the benefit concert for Invisible Children, in London – which involved calling all sorts of people in another time zone – and keeping up with both Ashlee and Patrick, his life was a busy, busy place. A happily busy place.
“I was just wondering if you had any plans while you’re in London. Frank and I know this place –“ Gerard began, now that he actually had Pete’s attention.
“Actually, I was planning to do some sight-seeing,” Pete replied.
“Sight-seeing? You’ve been to London how many times, and you want to go sight-seeing, instead of hanging out with us. I’m offended, Pete, truly offended.” Gerard tried to keep as straight a face as possible.
“Eh, I never had the time – you know how it is, on tour. But, since I’m in charge of this little party, the schedule’s all up to me.”
“Not all up to you, Pete,” Patrick chimed in from his seat a little ways down the plane. Pete was surprised he had even heard him – Patrick hadn’t turned off his iPod since they reached altitude.
“Well, no, not all up to me,” Pete hurriedly agreed. “But I did plan there to be a lot of free time after the concert for me to look around. Me and the band aren’t flying back to the States until Tuesday.”
“And you didn’t invite us along for your lost weekend? Why not? Unless ... you boys have plans!” Gerard waggled his eyebrows comically.
“No, no plans. Just thought you guys might be too busy. Sorry,” Pete said quickly.
“Oh, I know, Pete. Don’t worry about it.” Gerard grinned at him. “Anyway, what kind of sights are you looking to see? Tower of London, Buckingham Palace?”
“Yeah, yeah, all that. And I think I’m going to go to King’s Cross. I hear they have a luggage cart stuck in the wall, and a sign that says ‘Platform 9 & 3/4.’”
“You mean you’ve never seen it? You talk about Harry Potter more than a ten year old girl, and you’ve never been to King’s Cross?”
**************************
“Where the hell is he?” a flustered brunette with a clipboard in hand asked Patrick. Patrick could only assume she meant Pete, and not for the first time in his life, he wondered why he had apparently been appointed Pete’s keeper. It’s not like Pete actually. told him anything.
“I don’t know. When I went by his room this morning, he said he might be a few minutes late. It sounded like he might have had some company in there.” Patrick let the woman decide for herself whether he meant a man or a woman. Even if Pete didn’t hide things, it still wasn’t Patrick’s right to air his dirty laundry.
“Well, he’d better get here soon!” the woman exclaimed, as she stomped off, muttering to herself. Or perhaps she was talking to someone on her cell phone – the woman had an earpiece on, making it impossible for Patrick to tell.
Once she was safely out of sight, Patrick made the rounds himself, asking anyone and everyone he came across if they had seen Pete that morning; no one had. Suspicious that Pete was shirking his duties, he pulled out his cell phone and reluctantly texted him, to see where he was.
Patiently waiting for a return text – all cryptic code and missing letters – or maybe even a call and a real explanation, Patrick returned to sound check, where the rest of the guys were waiting. Upon spotting him, Frank wandered over and asked nonchalantly, “You get a hold of him yet?”
“No, not yet. I texted him though, so I’m sure he’s on his way.”
Frank looked skeptical. “Maybe you should call him, too. Just to be sure. I think that girl is going to blow her top if he doesn’t show up soon.”
*****************************************
Pete had seen the woman on the tube – he had been minding his own business, trying to get to the venue on time like a normal person, when he had spotted her. She had a child with her, in a stroller – the kid was downright adorable, with reddish-brown hair – more red than brown, the more he stared at it. She couldn’t have been more than two. There was something about the pair he just couldn’t put his finger on. He’d tried to dismiss it, to pay attention so he wouldn’t miss his stop, but he found himself stealing glances at her again and again.
Suddenly, it had dawned on him. She reminded him of Hermione. Not that Emma girl, though, but more like he had imagined her when he’d read the books. He had tried to dismiss the thought, but he was Pete, after all.
“Now approaching Gloucester Road.” The conductor announced, forcibly jarring him from his thoughts. Gloucester? Pete consulted his tube map. Somehow, in his daze, he’d missed four stops, including his!
Someone, somewhere was certainly going to kill him. The bands were staying at the Renaissance Hotel near Heathrow, and it should have been simple for him to get from there to the Apollo – just get on the Piccadilly line, and hang on until his stop – but then she had got on and interrupted his concentration. He sighed and stared at his tube map. He should just get off at the next stop and head back toward the venue before anyone noticed he was missing. And yet, he was still curious about the woman. He looked back toward her.
The child was in her lap now, obviously fussy. They must have been up early – the woman had plenty of shopping bags with her, and it was only eleven. The woman did everything she could to try to quiet the child, but it seemed to be no use.
“Oh Rose, shh, dear,” the woman said to the child. “We’ll be going back soon.”
Pete recognized that name from the epilogue. And it would make sense – Rose had to have been born before the last book came out. Now he had to follow them, sound check be damned.
Pete had followed her as she got off the Piccadilly line at Piccadilly and got on the Bakerloo line. Pete had no idea where she was going, and he would be lucky if he could find his way back when he was done following her, but he didn’t care.
And now, he was on Charing Cross Road, five miles and entirely too many tube stops away from the venue, wandering down the road in search of the frizzy-haired brunette.
His phone began ringing just as he caught up with her. She was standing in front of something – he thought it might be a pub. The ringing stopped after just a moment though – a text message. Pete didn’t bother to look at who it was from – he could guess pretty easily. He walked closer to the woman, trying not to look like the crazy stalker he was. He must have been doing well in that regard, because hardly anyone else on the street seemed to notice him. In fact, it seemed like they didn’t even see the pub. He had yet to see anyone go into the pub, or come out of it. Just the woman, standing in front of it, looking through her purse.
Pete looked up at the sign above the pub. The Leaky---
“You’d better answer that,” the woman said suddenly. Pete tore his gaze from the sign, and only then realized his phone was ringing. That’s what he got for ignoring a text message, he supposed.
“Er, yeah. I guess so,’ Pete said sheepishly, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He turned away from Hermione slightly as he answered it.
“Pete, where the hell are you? Everyone’s waiting,” Patrick said, before Pete could even say hello. Pete wasn’t surprised. He knew he was going to be in deep trouble. He also knew he didn’t have a good explanation, so he went for the truth.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be there soon, I promise. I just missed my stop and then there was this girl. I followed her to Charing Cross, and I swear to you man, she looks just like Her--.” He stopped in mid-sentence as he turned back around. The woman was gone, stroller and all.
“Pete, did you just say you were at Charing Cross? Because you were stalking someone?” Patrick asked on the other end of the line. Pete hardly heard him.
“She- She just disappeared. I’ll call you back.” He hung up on Patrick unceremoniously, staring at the place where the woman – he knew it just had to be Hermione now – had been standing. Not only was she gone, but it seemed like the pub hadn’t even existed. In its place were two stores – a bookstore, and what may have at one time been a record shop, but was now boarded up and empty.
********************************
“Where are you, Pete?” Frank asked into the phone. Patrick had sent him and Gerard to chase Pete down after he’d let it slip that he was on Charing Cross Road, but Charing Cross was a long road, and they were going to need something more than that, if they were going to find him. Luckily, they’d managed to get him to answer his phone a second time.
“I’m in Diagon Alley,” Pete said, in all seriousness. After he had hung up on Patrick, he had waited until someone else came near where the pub had been – and he could see it, if he concentrated very, very hard. Taking his chance before he lost it again, he followed the person as nonchalantly as possible into the Leaky Cauldron. He was stunned at what he saw, but he tried to hide his surprise – and quickly exited the pub into Diagon Alley proper, before attention could be called to him.
“Seriously, Pete, this isn’t funny! We’re already an hour behind on soundcheck. At this rate we’re going to have to cancel the autograph signing—“ Frank replied. Gerard was staring at him, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation, which wasn’t all that hard – Pete was excited. And because he was excited, he was just a little bit loud.
“Have you got to the place where there’s a boarded up record shop and a bookstore next to each other, yet? It’s not far from the station.”
Frank started walking, and beckoned Gerard to follow him. He hoped that if they played Pete’s little game for a few minutes, it would be easier to get him back to soundcheck before all hell broke loose.
They came to the spot Pete was referring to a few minutes later, continuing to chatter on the phone with Pete, just to keep him on the line. “All right, Pete, we’re here. Where are you hiding?”
“I’m in the pub,” he said matter-of-factly. He was watching them from the window. The pub was mercifully empty, except for the barman, who had – so far- left him alone. But he could tell the man’s patience was wearing thin.
“What pub? I don’t see any pub!” Frank said. Then he turned a questioning look toward Gerard.
Gerard looking across the street, instinctively, but all that met his eyes was more bookstores. The place was lousy with them. “There’s no pub here, Pete. Can we just drop the charade now? Come out from wherever you’re hiding now.”
“Hey, you,” the barman finally said. Pete’s luck had run out, and Frank and Gerard weren’t going to believe him anyway. “What’re you doing hanging around here?”
Pete glanced at the barman, and then hurried out, hoping the man wouldn’t follow. Frank and Gerard’s backs were turned to him. He hung up the phone.
“Guys, you’ve got to believe me,” he began, hoping to be able to plead his case. Frank and Gerard turned around at the sound of his voice, both of them looking annoyed.
“You’d better have a good explanation, Pete.”
“Like I told Patrick, I was following Hermione.” When his statement was met with disbelief, he continued, “I went into Diagon Alley, and everything. You have to believe me. Come on, I’ll show you – I still want to find Hermione, anyway. I lost her because you all kept calling!”
“No, Pete. We have to go. Soundcheck, remember? Everyone’s pissed at you.” Frank said, trying his best to sound stern.
“No – I have to go find her! I mean, how cool would it be if I could hook up with Hermione?” Pete asked, only half-joking. Gerard and Frank were not amused, and they certainly didn’t believe that Pete had found Hermione or Diagon Alley.
“Well, if it is Hermione,” Gerard began very calmly, and just a tiny bit condescendingly, “ then she would be married to Ron, and it seems like a bad idea to sleep with her.”
“Gee’s right. Come on, Pete. We gotta get back.” Frank put his arm around Pete, forcibly guiding him away from the store fronts, back toward the tube station, that would hopefully get them back to Hammersmith quickly.
********************************
“Are you excited about the concert, Victorie?” Hermione asked as she, Ron, Victorie, and Teddy approached the Hammersmith Apollo. After learning that Victorie’s favorite band was having a benefit concert, Hermione couldn’t resist getting tickets – and her little run in with Pete wasn’t going to change that, no matter what Ron had to say on the matter – and he had a lot to say about it.
“Yes!” Victorie squealed. Ron winced, as did Teddy.
“I don’t see why I had to come, anyway,” Teddy said sullenly, kicking the ground as they waited in line to have their tickets checked.
“Oh Teddy, try to have some fun,” Hermione replied. “It’ll be good for you to get out, you know. And anyway, you’ll be going off to Ho—school in the fall.”
Ron scowled at her near slip-up, but Hermione ignored it. The line was moving pretty fast, and soon enough they were inside, ahead of most of the crowd.
“Well, we’ve got a bit of time before we need to find our seats. You kids want anything?” Hermione asked, but she was talking to air – Victorie had taken off, dragging a most unwilling Teddy after her.
“Victorie! Where are you going?” Hermione asked, rushing after them – leaving poor Ron stranded for the moment. Luckily, they hadn’t got far, and he reached them just as Hermione was scolding Victorie, who was trying – and failing to get a word in edgewise.
“Hermione – Hermione, let her speak,” Ron said quickly, upon assessing the situation. Hermione gave him a dirty look –that same look he’d been getting since the day they met – but just shook her head and then looked at Victorie expectantly.
“They’re signing autographs Aunt Hermione!” Victorie said excitedly. There was no question of who “they” were. To hear Victorie talk, one wouldn’t even know My Chemical Romance was a band, let alone one playing that night.
“I don’t think—“ Ron began, before he was cut off by Hermione.
“An autograph? That’s a wonderful idea!” she said, before turning to her husband. “Isn’t it dear?” “Hermione, what are you doing – it’s bad enough you convinced me to let Harry let that sodding JK Rowling write that book ---“ Ron hissed in her ear, so that any of the nearby muggles wouldn’t hear them. “Pete will recognize you, you know.”
“I just want to get an autograph for Victorie.“ Hermione replied simply.
“Please, Uncle Ron?” She looked up at him with the most adorably sincere smile. She was just like her mother.
“Well… I suppose. But don’t do anything to call attention to yourselves - You should have obliviated his memory, Hermione,” Ron said brashly, earning him a sour look from both Victorie and his wife. “ You know he recognized you!”
“He couldn’t have! I don’t look anything like that Emma girl!” When Ron gave her an equally sour look in return, she added. “Besides, he probably just thought I was attractive. I’ve heard he’s quite the ladies’ man.”
“Aunt Hermione!” Victorie exclaimed, causing Hermione to blush.
“Well, attractive you are, my dear,” Ron said sweetly –apparently he was learning something in his old age. “But I still think you ought to be a little more careful.”
“Like you’re being, talking about this out in the open like you are” Hermione chastised. Then she turned to Victorie. “We’ll see you at our seats, Ron. Teddy, you can stay with Ron or come with me, your choice.”
***********************************************
“And what’s your name?” Pete asked the blonde before him. The youngest of their fans always creeped him out just a little, and this one especially – she was much too pretty for her age, and it made him feel skeezy. To make himself feel better, he allowed his gaze to wander to the adult that was with her – a frizzy haired brunette who did not look like she belonged with the pretty girl at all.
“Victorie,” the girl answered, averting his gaze quickly. He hurried and signed the poster – it was one of the ones they’d printed especially for the benefit, he noticed – and then handed over to Patrick, who quickly scribbled his name. The whole transaction was over in a matter of seconds, and then the next kid stepped up and took her place.
Pete paused in the middle of signing the kid’s CD insert, his mouth agape. Hermione and Victorie were already long gone by the time his brain had made the connection, but still he tried to peer around the long line of fans to try to catch a glimpse of them.
“Pete! Pete, what are you looking at?” Patrick hissed in his ear, still dutifully signing his name as he talked, and flashing a smile at the kid standing in front of him.
“It was Hermione,” Pete answered, just a little bit too loud. “And Victorie – she’s Bill and Fleur’s kid, she’s mentioned in the epilogue--.”
“Are you still going on about that, Pete? Let it go. You’re just sleep-deprived,” Patrick responded. The kid in front of him had been replaced with yet another of their legion of fans. At the other table, Frank and Gerard were equally as busy. Patrick watched as Pete finished signing the insert, and passed it over to him, still talking.
“Well, if it’s just a figment of my imagination, there’s a kid out there awfully confused that I just called her Victorie,” Pete replied grumpily, as he took whatever Patrick had been signing and added his own signature to it. Then they swapped again to hand them to the correct fans.
“Let it go, Pete.” Patrick said again, and that was the last word said on it for the night.
***********************************************
After spending the rest of the long weekend in London, Pete and the rest of the band were actually happy to be on the plane back home. The concert had gone very well, and the rest of the weekend had been relaxing – they’d taken in some of the sights, had lunch at the Hard Rock Café, and generally had a good time ribbing Pete about his hallucinations. Pete had taken it all in stride – he knew what he had seen, even if no one else believed him. There was just one slight problem, and Pete realized it only after they were already in the air.