Title: Torchwood and the Power of Fiction
By: Inara
Pairing: gen
Rating: PG
Note: Just a silly crossover I wrote after reading the latest Harry Potter book. With apologies to J K Rowling and Jasper Fforde. I don' think there are any spoilers for the Deathly Hallows, but take care just in case.
Summary: What happens when too many people read the same book at the same time. Just a daft thing that came to me in the early hours when I couldn't stop reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

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Jack lay in his bed, reading by the dim light of his lamp. Next to him, Ianto lay curled up, asleep, his arm draped casually over Jack's back. Occasionally he would murmur to himself, and Jack would absently run his hand through the younger man's hair. Jack knew that he should ease down next to him and wile away the hours until morning, but the book was just getting too darn interesting.

A few miles away in St Mellons Abigail Foster quickly switched off her torch and held her breath as she heard her mum get up and go to the bathroom. Her heart leapt into her mouth as she heard to floorboard outside her room creak, and she closed her eyes just in time, as her door opened and, through her eyelashes she saw her mum peer in through the crack in the door, the landing light behind her seeming unnaturally bright. Obviously satisfied, her mum closed the door and padded back to bed. Abigail waited a moment, then switched on her torch and grabbed her book. If she was too tired for school in the morning, she'd pretend she had a stomach ache, but whatever happened she was going to finish the book.

'Are you still on that bloody computer?' Mark Chandler's dad yelled up the stairs, not thinking about how loud his voice was in the quiet of the early hours of the morning in Splott. Mark groaned to himself, wishing his dad was on another shift, or that he'd just get off his case all together.
'No dad,' He lied blatantly, typing hurriedly into his laptop, desperate to finish his LiveJournal post before his dad decided to come up and see for himself. Awkward and shy in real life, mark loved the on-line community he'd found, not scattered all over the world, but here in Cardiff, and all of them with one thing in common. Hitting the send button, he reached over and picked up the book, unable to believe how it had changed his life.

'What time did you come to bed last night?' Asked Rhys, smearing mustard on his ham sandwich as if he was laying bricks. Gwen, running late, ran a brush through her hair whilst trying to eat toast and finish the washing up at the same time, sighed audibly.
'I only read a couple more chapters. When I came in you were dead to the world and snoring the place down.'
'I do not snore.' He responded indignantly, ramming his sandwiches and an apple into his lunch box. 'I just breathe loudly.'
'Course you do sweetheart,' she grinned, 'It's not as if you sound like a saw mill or anything.' He came up behind her, and grabbed her around the waist, and she gave a little shriek.
'Gotta go. Don't forget I'm at the regional co-ordinators meeting in Merthyr tonight, so I'll be late.'
'Good excuse for a piss up if you ask me.' She gave him a kiss, and he left, whistling. Finishing her toast she grabbed her bag and coat and made for the door, wondering, as she left, where the broomstick in the corner had come from.

'I don't believe you're reading that crap.' Owen scoffed, looking up from his copy of the Lancet in which he was failing miserably to do the crossword. At her works-station Toshiko sighed audibly, but didn't look at him. She hoped that one day, if she ignored him for long enough, he would go away. Unfortunately, it didn't look like happening any time soon. He tried another clue, but his brain wasn't working, 'Bugger it, I'm going out for a bacon sarnie. Want one?'
'Please.' Anything to get him out of her hair. There were times when he behaved like a bored toddler with Attention Deficit Disorder. As he wandered towards the door of the Hub, Owen smiled to himself. Winding Tosh up was one of life's small pleasures, although at times he wished it was more of a challenge.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. Spinning round, he caught a glimpse of something, grey, sort of armoured scuttling across the floor. As he approached it, a sudden jet of flame erupted from the creatures back end. 'What the hell......? He yelled.

The aroma of brewing coffee wafted around the kitchen, and Ianto breathed in its rich scent. Stretching contentedly he remembered the night before, and smiled to himself. Life was definitely getting better. Desperate for his first caffeine hit of the day, he looked round for his mug, but couldn't find it. It was only then that he became aware of the chink of china coming from inside one of the cupboards. Opening it gingerly he was surprised to see a small wizened creature, about two feet tall, with large ears and a pronounced nose, looking at him with startling green eyes. If that wasn't strange enough, the creature was wearing a very small Welsh rugby jersey. Ianto slammed the cupboard door and wondered if he were still asleep and dreaming.

They came from all over Cardiff to gather in Cathays Park. Teenagers, younger kids, even some adults, all wearing knitted scarves of various colours, the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor, yellow and black for Hufflepuff , blue and black for Ravenclaw and lastly, the green and silver of Slytherin, who seemed to be given a wide berth by the others. School was out, for today at least. As they looked they spotted them, hidden in the trees, propped against benches and laying in flowerbeds — broomsticks, enough for all. Mark and Abigail, who had never met before, grinned at each other, wondering how all their dreams had come true.

As he put on his cufflinks, Jack became aware of the sound of raise voices from the Hub. Wondering what on earth was going on, he clambered up the ladder from his quarters, pausing only to grab his scarlet and gold scarf from the coat stand. The Hub was in chaos. Tosh, now wearing her blue and black scarf was helping Owen bandage his hand whilst the weirdest creature Jack had seen (well, for at least three weeks) stalked around the hub shooting jets of flame out of its backside like a farting flamethrower; Ianto on the other hand was arguing with a very small, strange looking rugby player about the quality of his washing up, and above them all in the upper reaches of the Hub a large white owl swooped around, much to the consternation of their resident pteradodon, who looked as if she wished she were somewhere else, preferably a few millennia away.
'Aw, hell.' Jack sighed, 'Not again.' Owen looked over at him, and glared.
'What the bloody hell is going on? Have you seen that thing?'
'It's a Blast....'Toshiko interjected, and Jack finished off:
'Ended Skrewt.'
'A what?'
'Never mind.' Jack hurried over to the Rift Manipulator, which was emitting a harsh wining noise accompanied by nasty looking green tinged steam. 'Dammit.'
'What is it? Asked Tosh, abandoning Owen and hurrying over to Jack.
'We nearly had the same problem a couple of years ago, but this is worse, much worse. Last time, Suzie only had to sort out a herd of hippogriffs in Newport.'
'That doesn't answer the question Jack.'
'It's the book Tosh. So many people reading the same thing at the same time, it gives off an enormous amount of psychic energy. With this one, there are literally millions all over the world. But here in Cardiff it's worse, we're sitting on a Rift don't forget.. The psychic energy is weakening the barrier between the real world and the world of fiction, and its starting to seep through.'
'Bloody marvellous.' Owen griped, 'It couldn't be Lady Chatterley or Bridget Jones could it?'
'Have you actually read a book Owen?' Tosh asked sweetly, 'One that has words and not just pictures?'
'Ha bloody ha. So what are we going to do about it?'
'Ianto, stop annoying the House Elf and come over here.'
'He's saying that I don't get the mugs clean enough.' Ianto gave the little creature a hard look. 'And he doesn't like my coffee.'
'Then make him tea instead.' Jack smiled at Ianto's indignant expression.
The outer door ground open and Gwen burst through, scarlet and gold scarf flying behind her, and a broomstick clutched in her hand.
'Jack, you have to see this, they're playing Quidditch in the Plas.'

The oval basin in Roald Dhal Plas made a natural, if slightly small, Quidditch pitch. The concrete seats that lined the sides were jam packed with a myriad of people, seemingly naturally divided into Houses simply according to the colour of the scarves they wore. Two teams of teenagers riding broomsticks, yelled and laughed as they zoomed around the arena, chasing each other around the water tower sculpture and practiced dive bombing the Millennium Centre. Owen, trooping disconsolately behind the others suddenly realised he was wearing a green and silver scarf.
'It's bloody contagious.' He muttered to himself, and wondered why he was the only one of the team wearing those colours, Ianto having joined Tosh in the blue and black. He wasn't sure what the difference was, but he was betting it wasn't good.
Jack watched the crowd, and tried without success to keep the grin off his face. God, it looked so much fun, kind of like a WW II dogfight, but without the risk of dying. Looking round he caught Gwen's eye and saw that her smile mirrored his.
'I know it's wrong, and it shouldn't be happening, but it's fun isn't it?'
'Oh yeah.' Suddenly a shout went up from the crowd.
'The Golden Snitch! The Snitch is in play!' Up on his broomstick, Mark, the Seeker for Gryffindor scanned the horizon looking for the small, flying ball. Below him, Abigail, in her new role as Bludger, caught sight of it.
'Over there, go for it!' He swooped off, the wind ruffling his hair as he dived towards the Snitch. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, and he felt totally exhilarated. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Seeker from Slytherin coming up behind him. No way were they having it — the Snitch was his He was aware of Abigail shouting encouragement, and her enthusiasm spurred him on, diving and weaving as he followed the Snitch through the air.
'Come on,' Jack yelled, watching the teenager handle the broomstick as if he'd been born to it. 'Grab it!'


Mark saw the Snitch hover in front of him. It was his, he was going to win. Reaching forward, he felt the broomstick lurch out of control. He was going to fall off. Taking a deep breath he steadied himself, and lunged forward, feeling the fluttering wings of the Snitch as he closed his hand. A huge roar went up from the crowd below as his team crowded round, slapping him on the back.
'You were brilliant.' Abigail grinned at him, and he glowed with pride. He wished his dad could see him now.

'You know we've got to stop this, don't you? Ianto whispered to Jack, reluctant to break the mood of euphoria around them.
'I know, Ianto, but let them enjoy it a while longer. That kid looks like all his Christmases have come at once.'
'Looks fun, doesn't it? Gwen smiled, 'makes me wish I was fifteen again.'
'I bet we could do it if we tried,' Tosh grinned mischievously.
'Don't even think about it.' Owen butted in. 'You'd break your bloody necks.'
'Spoilsport.'
The crowd thronged around the Plas, and all of them, even Owen if he would only admit it, were swept along in the atmosphere. It was Ianto that noticed the sudden chill in the air, as out of nowhere a cold wind began to blow. The sky, which a moment ago had been blue, began to boil with leaden grey storm clouds, and, where, minutes before, there had been laugher, a deathly silence descended as a wave of utter despair washed over the crowd.
'Damn, I was afraid of this.' Jack glanced at Ianto, seeing tears in the younger mans eyes. Above him, creatures that seemed to be more shadow than anything else, swooped over the Plas, dragging the darkness behind them. 'Dementors.' Everywhere, people were running and screaming, their joy forgotten as if it had never been. The other members of the team stood with him, but he could see the fight ebbing away from them.
'I think you have a problem, Captain.' A sardonic voice in his ear made him jump. Turning, he saw a pale faced man with long black greasy hair and an expression of mild distain. 'I take it you know what to do?'
Jack slipped his hand into his pocket, and brought out a wand of ash wood. It seemed so natural that he couldn't believe that he hadn't carried it for years. In one fluid motion he swept the wand forward and shouted:
'Expecto Patronum!'

A shaft of pure white light shot out the end of Jack's wand, and resolved itself into the form of a silver stallion. It galloped towards the Dementors, main and tail flying, and they began to dissipate, dissolving into the darkening sky.
'Pretentious but useful.' Snape muttered.
'Ok,' Jack yelled at the now confused crowd, 'Time to go home, the show's over!' It seemed that no-one was going to listen, but after a brief moment's hesitation, they began to disperse.
'God,' Gwen shuddered, 'that was awful. It...' A heart rending scream split the air, and echoed around the Plas. As if on cue, the crowd began to panic, milling around, tripping and falling over each other in an effort to get away. 'What's going on?'
The looked around, but could see nothing but a surge of bodies. The Tosh yelled:
'Over there, Jack, look!'
Under the footbridge which separated Mermaid Quay from the Pierhead building, the darkness was growing, solidifying. In front of it, a young girl in Gryffindor colours crouched over the unconscious form of the Seeker who had captured the Golden Snitch, trying to shield him from the encroaching blackness.
Jack set off at a sprint, dodging through the crowds, and the others followed; what had been fun before had suddenly become deadly serious.
As they drew nearer they could feel the whirling air cut into them like a thousand small needles, cutting into their skin. Jack saw that the girl's face was covered in tiny bloody scratches.
'It's all right,' He hunkered down next to her, 'We'll get you out of here.' The girl looked at him, her face pale but determined, and nodded. 'Ianto, Owen, take.....'
'Mark.'
'.....and take him somewhere safe. Gwen take...'
'Abigail'
'....and go with them. Then I need you back here asap.'
'He's coming.' Snape seemed to appear out of thin air. 'Things are about to become very I interesting indeed.'
'If you can't say anything helpful, then be quiet.' Jack snapped. As he watched, the shadows began to change form and solidify, he could just make out a pair of red slit eyes in a serpent like face. If He Who Must Not be Named came through the Rift, then all hell would literally break lose.
'What do we do Jack?' Tosh's voice shook, but, as with the others, who had moved Mark and Abigail as far away from the danger as they could, she lined up next to him, a barrier between the crowd behind and the


evil in front. Then Jack realised what they had to do.
'Listen,' He shouted, his voice carrying over the noise in the Plas, 'We need to stop this, and you have to help us. You have to help.' At first, he thought they wouldn't listen, but finally they stilled, and looked at him for guidance. A young boy of perhaps ten detached himself from the crowd.
'What do we do?'
'Yeah Jack,' Owen said under his breath, 'What do we do.' Jack took a breath, hoping he wasn't about to make a big mistake.
'W need to stop him coming through. When I was with the Doctor he was changed, just by the force of peoples will. I think. If we all think about closing the Rift, then we can make it happen.'
'And if we can't? He gave Owen a look, and the other man subsided.
'Are you with us?' Jack turned to the crowd, young children, teenagers, all white face and frightened, but determined and adults all lined up behind him, and from nowhere in their hands, wands appeared. Next to him his team stood, braced against the increasing wind, but ready to fight, Ianto and Gwen to either side of him, with Owen and Tosh on either end. Together, they drew their wands, ready for whatever the Rift was going throw at them.
'Now!'
Purple fire leaped from the ends of their wands, solidifying into a solid wall of flame. From behind, came a sustained chant: 'Close, close, close......' At first he thought that nothing was going to happen, that they had not been successful. Fighting against the stinging wind, they held hard to their wands, but the fire began to falter. A figure began to form in the whirlwind, and he knew that they had failed. Then, the energy from their wands increased, pouring into the shadows, chasing the darkness away in a mass of light.

It was over. The wands and broomsticks had gone, the Golden Snitch had vanished and Snape had simply ceased to exist. All that was left was a milling crowd of bemused people, a small rugby jersey and a scarlet and gold knitted scarf, flying from the Pierhead.

Later, as they sat in the Hub drinking Ianto's best coffee, Tosh was on the phone. When the call ended she turned to the others with a smile: 'Abigail and Mark are fine. It looks like the start of a beautiful friendship.'
'What now?' Asked Owen, yawning. 'I could do with a beer.'
'You're joking, aren't you?' Gwen grinned. 'I've still got to finish the book.'
'I wouldn't bother,' Jack took it out of her hand. 'You know what happens.'
'Oh yeah, what?'
'The good guys win, of course.'

The End

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