3
“How’s Fred doing?” asked Velma, staring intently at her computer screen.
“He’s getting worse”, Daphne replied.
Fred’s grey stone face hardly moved.
“Shaggy and Scooby aren’t far behind him. He took the worst of the blast. Protecting us”, she stifled a sob. Velma wanted to look, but she had to find a solution. A cure, dammit.
“Yeah, I miss the old days, y’know, when it turned out to be some caretaker with some creepy masks and magic tricks…” Daphne turned to look at Fred again, hoping she had been wrong and that he would be getting better.
“…and now these magic tricks are all too real”.
They had defeated the plans for the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred to take over the world. Unfortunately, as he had descended to Tartarus, he’d blasted the Mystery Machine crew as they walked away. Fred had acted quickly and used his body to shield Velma and Daphne from the effects of the spell. Shaggy and Scooby had not been so lucky. The effects had been immediate; their skin had started turning to stone, solidifying. Slowly, all movement stopped as their bodies fossilised.
Velma searched frantically for a cure for her friends.
“I found this book, the ‘Kitab Alshifa’.
“It says here there’s a copy in England. But it’s guarded by a group of powerful witches”
Daphne already had her coat on.
“Okay, let’s go…I’ll get the plane tickets while we’re in the cab”.
“…what’s the place called?”
Velma answered as she was halfway out the door.
“Hogwarts”
Daphne had already booked the tickets by the time they got to the airport.
Velma spent most of the flight researching.
“We need help”, she said. “I’ve been doing some looking up, there’s this guy…”
“…John Constantine”.
Velma showed the picture: a blonde-haired, rough-looking man in a white shirt, a narrow black tie, and a trench coat.
Daphne just shrugged.
“He’s got a reputation as a bit of a con-man. But since we are planning a robbery, I think he’s the man for us. It says he lives in London. I’ll message him and see if he’ll help”.
They knocked on the door, and John Constantine answered.
“Alright, love”.
His house was a typical teeny-tiny English flat, but when he opened the door, you could see inside. It was a vast library, brimming with memorabilia. Velma looked in astonishment. John followed the direction of her gaze.
“Yeah, it’s bigger on the inside! I took some interior decorating pointers from the Doctor”.
“Doctor Who?” Velma asked; she could do with something like this in her apartment.
“Yer right!” He smiled. Okay, I’m not gonna get a straight answer out of him, Velma thought.
“Have you got what I asked for?”
He fumbled in his pockets, producing a small troll doll. She stared at its bright pink hair and googly eyes. He handed it to Velma.
“There you go, love, one magic suppression doll. Carry that with you, it’ll kibosh any divvy magic”.
“Thanks”.
“I'm proper binned from that gaff, but all I need's a picky of the spell, and I'll be able to sort the potion out, la. I’ve got a map of where I think the book is and what to look for”.
“Toodle-pip”.
They were standing in the train station, tickets in hand and a card for a local Taxi firm on the back, John had written.
They’ll pick up any magic a mile off, so you’ll have to do it like civilians. Don’t even think about driving there; wrong side of the road, single-track roads, and you would not believe the price of petrol in this country! Sneak in, get a picture of the book, then at the signal, I’ll teleport you back.
I know you’ll smash it.
- John.
They got a train to Hogwarts, Liverpool Lime Street Station, not Platform 9 ¾ at London King's Cross Station. This was British Rail, not Hogwarts. The train dropped them at the village that was close to Hogwarts. They phoned for a taxi, of course, Velma had thought to change the SIM cards on her phone.
The taxi pulled into the drive, and they got out and gasped. Hogwarts was even more than they imagined. Ancient buildings made of stone, not wood, Dreaming spires, they felt like they’d been transported to a fairy story.
Apart from the tour.
And the visitor centre.
They never imagined that.
Funny story. The tourist thing was what the Muggles called money laundering. Okay, wizards can create anything they want, but how do you explain the earnings to the Inland Revenue? You can’t put magic as your source of income. The Wizards tried, and coincidentally so did some drug cartels, but the courts said no. The Ministry of Magic tried to intervene with the Government, but despite this and the urgings of those drug cartels, the government said no.
So the wizards took a leaf out of the Drug Cartels' book and engaged in Money Laundering.
On paper, the tours made loads of money, but in practice, the place was too isolated, too badly advertised to get many visitors. The wizards still had to put on tours in case someone showed up, mainly American tourists. So there was a visitors centre, a gift shop, and full-time tour guides. On paper, it made oodles and was used to explain all the stuff they conjured up. Dementors were scary, but compared to the Inland Revenue…
“Excuse me, A pleasant girl, young woman, approached them as they got out of the taxi. She was a nice auburn-haired lady about the same age as Velma and Daphne, wearing a white shirt, a short black skirt and a Hogwarts blazer.
“Are you here for the tour?”
“Yes”, Velma and Daphne replied, thinking this was a good way to scope the place out.
“My name’s Hermione, Hermione Granger”, the girl introduced herself.
All was going fine until the tour guides had to visit their relatives in the States. Dumbledore needed people he could rely on. Ginny was one of the first people who came into his head. Harry was away being the Golden Boy, saving the world, and Ginny was quite frankly bored. She had given up her career as a Quidditch player, applying for jobs as a reporter. She immediately enlisted her best friend Hermione. Two weeks, all expenses paid, the resources of Hogwarts at their disposal. It would likely be two weeks at a luxurious spa. Without much hesitation, Hermione agreed; she needed a quiet place to catch up with all the briefings she had accumulated from the Ministry of Magic.
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Velma, and this is Daphne, we’re from Ohio…”
“...America”, she added in case the English had not heard of Ohio.
“We’ve heard so much about this place, we had to see it!”
“Would you like to go on a tour? You’re the only two we have today. And that’s what we’re here for, She giggled.
Leading the tourists in through the Main entrance, she started the tour, just like she’d rehearsed.
“Founded in the 10th century…” she carried on, but Velma and Daphne were not listening.
“Excuse me, where do you keep all the old books?”
“Mainly here”, Hermione pointed over at the library. We’re a bit quiet at the moment. School holidays. Ginny and I have been drafted in to do some tour-guiding”
“What do you do for security?”
“It’s just Ginny and me”, she smiled at a slender red-headed girl. Small-chested, but obviously well-muscled. White shirt, jacket and a short dark green skirt. They both smiled.
“Perfect”, thought Daphne and Velma.
The plan was simple. Hide in the toilets. Wait until everybody has left. Find the book, take some pictures, and leave.
What could go wrong?
Hermione was having a wonderful time relaxing. This little holiday in the old place was chill. They had just done their first tour with tourists, and if she said so herself, it had gone well. All the magic had behaved itself, and she had been able to answer all the questions. She would pour herself some wine and read through some files she had brought with her from the Ministry of Magic. Later, she would have a sumptuous meal in the dining room, which she and Ginny had all to themselves. This is life.
Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. It was one of the house elves.
“Mistress, Intruders”
“What?”
“Intruders in the library”
Hermione grabbed her wand and ran out to get Ginny. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with this”. She told the house elf.
Dramatically, Hermione switched on the candlelight with a quick spell. The candles lit up ( except around the intruders, funny that ). The light was enough for them to see who had broken in.
It was those two Americans who were going to the library looking for something.
“Stop!” she commanded.
By reflex, the intruders stopped.
“Incarcerous”, they both chanted at the same time, pointing their wands.
Nothing happened. The American with the glasses smiled and took them off, moving towards her. She had, in the past, played up how little she could see without her glasses. Aww, she exaggerated; she could see well enough to see the look of shock and surprise in the two now powerless witches' faces.
“Petrificus Totalus!” they shouted.
Nothing.
Velma and Daphne were happy; the doll had worked. They were here to save their friends; now all they had to do was take care of the two powerless witches. How difficult could it be?
Hermione and Ginny went through the options; these muggles had some magic-damping spell so they could not summon help, the house elves would leave them alone, and it was up to the two of them. They could not let these thieves get away with any of the magic spells that the library held, the havoc they could create in the Muggle world… it could not happen.
Mugglefight it will be, then, something that they had quite a bit of experience at. Something that Hermione was undefeated at. How hard could it be?
“I’ll take red”, Ginny whispered to Hermione.
Hermione nodded. “I’ll have four-eyes”, she said it loud enough for the American to hear. Yes, she was offended. Good.
The four women faced each other. Their field of battle would be the large aisle between the two rows of bookshelves they stood between. They stood at each end of the aisle, next to a conveniently placed table for studying. Velma put her phone and glasses on the table. Daphne put her handbag down.
Hermione and Ginny put their wands on the table at their end. Then slowly, carefully, never taking their eyes off the intruders, they removed their blazers. They were down to their shirts and skirts. Like the intruders, they had removed their footwear for better mobility.
Preparations complete, like gunfighters, they slowly walked towards each other. No words, they knew what was going to happen. They waited for someone to make the first move.
Hermione moved first, lunging at her opponent. Her body smacked solidly into her rival. Both girls grunted as Velma’s back slammed against the wall and Hermione’s breasts tried to crush Velma’s breasts into her chest. Hermione was surprised by how firm they were. Hermione’s fingers dug into Velma’s hair, the muscles in her neck tensing as Hermione tried to slam her head against a bookshelf. Velma’s hands came up, her hands grabbing to twist Hermione’s ears.
Ginny kicked into Daphne's belly; she folded. Ginny grabbed her hair and swung her into a bookcase. Daphne groaned. Pulling by the hair, Ginny pulled Daphne's head forward, trapping Daphne’s head between her thighs. Ginny extended her legs out straight and locked her ankles. The muscles on her smooth, firm thighs flexed and rippled as she squeezed Daphne’s head between her thighs.
Daphne’s cries were muffled as her head was squeezed tight between Ginny’s thighs. Her face pressed tight into Ginny’s crotch.
Hermione cried out in pain, pulling away. As a parting gift, she brought her right knee up and dug it into Velma’s belly. Her eyes went wide, she doubled over, clutching her belly, gasping for breath, releasing her grip on Hermione’s ears.
While Velma was doubled over, trying to get air back into her lungs. Hermione brought her right knee up again, this time digging it into Velma’s left breast. A deep moan burst from Velma’s lips as Hermie’s knee crushed her tit into her chest. Velma dropped to her knees, clutching her breast and belly.
Hermione grabbed her by the neck. Swinging Velma into the bookcase while her fists pounded Velma’s back. Then, hissing, she grabbed Velma’s jumper, pulling it up so it covered Velma’s face. Then she attacked. Her fists flying, Velma’s hands flailed as if they were trying to ward off an invisible enemy. Hermione’s jab shot out, hitting Velma on the nose. A wet patch of red appeared on her jumper. Hermione fired a right hook and a left hook. Velma kicked out blindly; she got Hermione in the belly, sending her back into the bookcase. Velma struggled against the jumper, finally throwing it off. Hermione looked surprised at what lay underneath. Two nice, plump, firm breasts. Who woulda thought? Velma wanted people to appreciate her for her brains, not her tits, so she made a point of not showing them off. Hermione looked at the bra-encased tits approvingly. Well, they made tempting targets.
Hermione launched a kick to the head, sending Velma back against the bookcase.
While the two swots battled it out; The two ‘jocks’, Ginny was a Quidditch player, while Daphne was an ex-cheerleader, were deep in their fight.
Daphne punched and clawed at her adversary’s thighs, trying in vain to break free of the head scissor. Ginny kept a tight grip on Daphne’s hair and squeezed even harder. Daphne leant forward, lifting Ginny’s butt off the ground as her hands clamped onto Ginny’s breasts.
Ginny screamed as Daphne’s nails dug into her breast. The jolt of pain made Ginny’s legs snap open. She released Daphne’s hair and grabbed her wrists, trying to pry the hands off her tits. Daphne gasped for breath as she pulled her head up from between Ginny’s thighs. As Daphne came to her knees, Ginny bent her right knee, kicking out and slamming her foot into Daphne’s left shoulder. Daphne went down on her back, clutching her shoulder.
Ginny scrambled to her feet, so she was facing Daphne. She sprang into the air to leap on top of her. Daphne rolled to her right. Ginny came down hard on the floor, her breasts crushed into her chest. Daphne rolled back, slamming her elbow into the small of her rival’s back and rolled on top of her. Yanking Ginny’s hair with her left hand, snapping her head back. Ginny’s scream, as Daphne pulled viciously on her hair, was cut short as Daphne hooked her left forearm under Ginny’s chin and pressed it tight against her throat.
Ginny’s eyes went wide as Daphne pressed her forearm into her throat, tightening the choke-hold. Daphne pressed her weight down, her breasts pressed tight against Ginny’s. The muscles on her thighs flexed and pulsed as Daphne's legs twined around Ginny's, grapevining her, as Ginny’s fingers clawed the floor, trying to straighten her legs.
"Gotcha!" she hissed. Until Hermonie's foot crashed into her head. Daphne turned around, straight into another kick to the face. Dazed, Daphne rolled over, clutching her bruised face. Ginny looked up.
She saw Hermione.
“Taking a break?” Hermione enquired playfully.
“No, back to work”, Ginny smiled back. They both turned to face Daphne. Whose face had turned pale at the thought of one against two.
"Bitch!"
Velma leapt on Hermione's back, one arm around her neck, the other in her hair. Hermione bent over, trying to propel the slag over her head, but she failed. Velma started launching punches into her face, blackening her eyes. Hermione jumped back into the bookcase, Velma moaned as her back took the impact, then Hermione swung her head back, Velma screamed as her nose erupted blood. She released her grip, sliding to the floor, but launched an uppercut into Hermione's belly.
Hermione staggered back and caught a left hook from Daphne. Followed by Velma jumping at her, her arms wrapping around her, Hermione tripped. Meanwhile, Daphne and Ginny were swinging one another around by the hair without watching where they were going; they were on the point of trampling the other pair underfoot when they too tripped.
Before Ginny could get clear, Velma yanked on her shirt, popping the buttons along her front and pulling it down her shoulders, pulling her back into the fray. Hermione was doing the same to Daphne, her dress ripping down the back. Ginny wiggled her body, getting free of the shirt, and she started to swing at Velma. Velma kicked, sending Ginny back into Daphne, who was fending off punches from Hermione.
Rolling clear of the melee, Velma came to her knees. Catching sight of Hermione, she attacked. Straight into a blow from her jaw. She fell back straight into a blow from Ginny aimed at Daphne’s face. Daphne kicked Ginny hard in the leg.
Velma felt hands reach out under her bra, prying it loose, then squeezing the soft, pliant flesh under them. She screamed, firing an elbow back. It hit something hard, and the hands released. Hermione felt someone kick her arse, she stepped forwards into Daphne's punch, and she dodged. It hit Velma in the face, and her nose started bleeding again. Ginny felt someone grabbing at her skirt, she felt it slipping, then some bitch was spanking her fucking arse!! Blindly, she kicked behind her and felt a satisfying thump. She was about to pull her skirt up when she felt hot needles being driven into her skull as some bitch was yanking at her hair.
After having crossed the aisle twice in their mindless mauling, hands reaching for any vulnerable flesh they could find to hit, squeeze, or scratch. Feet flailing. They hit the bookcases at one side of the aisle and started rolling back the other way. The four struggled onto their knees in the centre of the aisle. Caught by a swinging punch from Ginny, Daphne was toppled to the floor. Seizing her chance, Velma sprang to her feet and retreated to the centre of the aisle. Spitting obscenities, Hermione started to rise as quickly. Leaving Ginny and Daphne wrestling on the floor.
Hermione's sweat-sodden body was down to a bra with a nipple peeping out of one of its cups and her black skirt. Velma's bra hung around her waist, her bleeding nose had dwindled to a drip, Ginny was just in her skirt, and she didn't wear a bra. Daphne's dress still clung to her body, just. And she still had her green neckerchief. All four women were drenched in sweat, covered in bruises. They were all breathing heavily, the only sound in the library.
"She's all yours", Hermione smiled at Ginny as she swung her fist into Velma’s face.
At the same time, Ginny's right hook rocked Daphne's face. Ginny rolled and grabbed Daphne's hair as Daphne fired slaps at Ginny's face, then, pulling her hair, Daphne rolled on top, strangling Ginny. Ginny punched Daphne's tit. She screamed. Ginny pushed her off, believing turnabout was fair play. She grabbed Daphne's neckerchief, twisting she used it as a garrotte.
"Grrrk!"
Daphne gasped.
Where were we? Hermione looked at Velma’s breasts. Oh yeah, those puppies. Her left hook swung, smearing Velma’s breasts. She cried out. Hermione’s right hook smeared the breasts the other way. Velma held her aching breasts. Bitch. Then she remembered why she was here. She growled. Head down, she charged Hermione, driving her into the bookcase. Hermoine gasped as Velma harpooned her belly. Velma moved her head back and drove it in again. Hermione sprayed saliva.
Velma raised her head. Grabbing Hermione by the ears, she pulled her face down into the top of her head. Hermione’s face sprayed blood: she screamed.
Velma fired a one-two shot into Hermione’s guts. Hermione felt herself starting to puke. Rising Velma swung for Hermione’s face. Dazed as she was, Hermione had enough left in her to duck. There was a loud thud as Velma’s fist hit the hard covering of the ancient books. Velma screamed. Hermione grunted, payback time. Bitch.
Daphne’s face was starting to turn blue, and black dots were starting to appear, clouding her vision. Ginny just cackled, tightening her grip on the neckerchief.
On the verge of passing out. Daphne grabbed the neckerchief. Swinging her head forward, she threw Ginny over her shoulder. Ginny somersaulted over her head, landing with a skid on her back. Spitefully, Daphne kicked at her head.
Slowly, Daphne started to rise on her hands and knees, coughing. She felt dizzy. Angrily, Ginny jumped up. She was gonna get her revenge.
Ginny’s spin kick smashed into Daphne’s head, it twisted at an unnatural angle as she ejected spit all over the floor. Her hands gave way, she collapsed, splayed out like a starfish, unconscious on the floor. Drooling.
Satisfied, Ginny leaned back against the table, taking time to catch her breath. That fucking bitch was tough. Idly, she removed her skirt, hanging halfway down her legs, revealing the black thong she wore. Her shirt was long gone. She needed a break; she would let her friend have her fun. It looked like she’d finish off the Yank soon enough. Then she could have a nice, relaxing bath.
Hermione was using Velma’s tit for a handhold, twisting her breasts as she pulled her into a punch.
Hermione’s right hook smashed into Velma’s head, her cheek crushed as she fell back against the bookshelf. Books fell on her head; the books were old and heavy. Velma looked down at the books, and she saw it, the ‘Kitab Alshifa’. Without thinking, she grabbed it. She saw Hermione’s fist raised for a blow. Instinctively, she held the book in front of her. Hermione’s knuckles hit the hard cover.
“Fuck!”, it felt like she had broken her hand. What did they make those books out of concrete?
Velma swung the hard book into Hermione’s stomach. She gasped. As Velma brought the book down over her head, she staggered. Velma brought the book up, the hardbound book smashing it into her face. Her nose exploded in blood. The blow sent her back into the bookshelf, she hit her head and then started to slump. A bubble of blood was blowing from her nose. The bubble popped, spraying blood unnoticed on her unconscious face.
“You fucking bitch!” Ginny screamed.
Velma turned to see Ginny, no longer looking relaxed; in fact, she looked like she was after blood. Face twisted in anger, she was running straight towards her, fists raised. Velma started to panic. She was fucked, tired and bloody, and now this bitch was trying to kill her.
In defence, Velma held the book out in front of her. Avoiding the obstacle, Ginny kicked up straight into Velma’s crotch. Her eyes widened in agony. Gasping in agony, Velma dropped the book; as her hands tended to her injured womanhood, it hit the ground with a bang.
Hissing with satisfaction, Ginny pulled a hurt Velma by the hair to the nearest table, manhandling her breasts so they were spread out on the surface of the table. Ginny looked down, with hands on her hips, at her wailing foe, delighted at the torture she had set up. She was going to enjoy this, nice tits, shame if something were to happen to them, she thought. Then she went to work.
Ginny’s fists came down like anvils, flattening Velma’s breasts. Velma’s screams seemed loud enough to wake the dead.
“Fucking…”
Left fist down into the left boob. Ginny jumped up as the fist came down for extra emphasis.
“…Piece…”
Right fist down into the right boob. The pulverised flesh mushroomed out in pain.
“…Of…”
Right first down again on the now purple orbs.
“…Shit!”
Both fists slammed down into the table. Velma fell back, weeping, clutching at her tenderised breasts. Ginny stormed around the table, ready to finish her off.
“Bitch!” A half-conscious Daphne muttered.
Daphne’s hand reached out, clutching at Ginny’s foot. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough. Ginny tripped, and she fell over, crashing headfirst into a shelf. Half-concussed, she turned as Velma's fist crashed into her mouth. The next one into her face, all she could see through a veil of blood, was Velma's crazed, frantic features. The swot turned cagefighter felt close to passing out, but she knew what was at stake. Ginny mumbled incoherently about how she was still going to finish the bitch.
Velma grabbed her by the tit; she did not dare give her time to recover, pulling her head ready for a jackhammer blow. The tit stretched, Ginny moaned. Then Velma’s blow smashed into her face. Her face distorted, wrapping around the fist. Velma heard a squeak. By the second blow, her hand was covered in blood, it was not her own. The third blow was unnecessary, but Velma was too far gone to know it; she only stopped because she was too tired to make another blow.
Slowly, as her brain started to unfrazzle. She realised the body whose tit she was holding so brutally wasn’t moving. When she released the tit, the unmoving body slumped to the floor.
She had done it.
Rising, Velma looked around for her book, what this battle had been all about. She found it. Clutching the precious book to her chest, she grabbed her glasses and her phone. The original plan was to take pictures, but she didn’t want to waste time and give those sleeping beauties time to recover. She couldn’t take round two. Limping, supporting Daphne, she made it outside. Holding up the troll doll, she uttered the words, as instructed.
"We smashed it!"
They were instantly teleported back to John's. Yes, they could have teleported into Hogwarts, but when they arrived, they wanted to look normal; they were undercover. Hence the taxi.
He mixed the potion and teleported them back to Fred, Shaggy and Scooby. He added a healing spell; they really looked like they needed it, poor luvs. Oh, and a clothes spell, he was a gentleman after all.
Hurriedly, they applied the potion as instructed. The effect was immediate. The stone turned to flesh, and within four minutes, they were back to normal.
A week later, two visitors appeared and knocked on the door of the van. It was their playmates, looking healed.
“We’ve come for the book”.
Obediently, Velma and Daphne handed the book over.
“Constantine told us why you wanted the book. You could have just asked”.
“We didn’t know how we’d be received”.
“We aren’t nasty. We would have worked to help you”
“We didn’t know…we didn’t have time”. Velma apologised
“Constantine should have told you, we’ve had issues with him in the past. Did he leave you with his card?”
“Yeah, he suggested jello wrestling with someone called Zatanna and Wanda Maximoff”.
“Oh, he suggested to us we bring Luna along and mud wrestle the Halliwell sisters. He’s a dodgy fucker!”
“Agreed!” Daphne and Velma spoke as a chorus.
“Well, we’re gonna get back. And nothing personal, but I hope we don’t see you again”.
“Me too…” Velma rubbed her breasts,
“Thank heavens for healing spells”
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