Harry opened his eyes slowly, reluctantly. He didn’t want to wake up. He felt so warm and comfortable that his first instinct was to drift off to sleep again. But the sun refused to cooperate. A bright stream of sunlight was shining directly on Harry’s face and he could see the red colored glare, reflected blood, through his eyelids.
‘Someone shut the windows,’ Harry muttered. Then he stopped. Douglas’s house had no windows! Where was the sun coming from then?
Harry peeled open his eyelids and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He pulled on his glasses, looked around in horror and gave a yelp.
‘What! What? Help! Attack!’ yelled Ron, sitting up suddenly and screaming a load of nonsense.
Harry gaped soundlessly at Ron.
Ron just stared at Harry. ‘Mate, that’s a really bad habit. You’ve got to stop waking me up so early!’
Harry shook his head. ‘Look around you idiot! Everything’s gone!’
Ron looked and looked and looked. Indeed, everything was gone. The paint, the stove, the couch and every other piece of furniture in Douglas’s wonderful little hut had vanished over night. The house was still there but it was now understandable why Harry and Ron had thought the homes had been shabbily built. A large hole in the roof was letting in streams of sunlight, which is from where the sun had been shining on Harry’s face. A few other small holes in the walls were letting in drafts of chilly air. A gust of strong wind from the open door blew Harry’s blanket off of him.
‘But- but- but-’ Ron stuttered.
‘Where did everything go?’ finished Harry.
Harry stood up. The small side room which Douglas had slept in was empty as well. The only things remaining in the house were a small bag of food by the doorway and, of course, Harry’s and Ron’s beds.
‘Bloody hell!’ murmured Ron. ‘This makes no sense. Everything was here last night and now…’
‘Where’s Douglas?’ wondered Harry.
He stood up, pulling on his coat and walked out the open door and yelped.
‘What!?’ yelled Ron.
Harry just shook his head. There was nothing there. Nothing. No homes, shabbily built or otherwise. No store, no building of any type. So sign of life. No nothing. No people. No indication that everything that had happened last night had happened at all.
Ron had come out as well.
‘I don’t believe it!’ he screeched. ‘We can’t have dreamed it all!’
The landscape was bare. Except for the light dusting of snow on the ground, there was no movement. There weren’t even any footprints on the ground.
‘Maybe we’ve gone mental!’ said Ron in awe. ‘I’ve always wondered how it feels to be mental. Feels pretty normal if you ask me.’
‘We couldn’t have dreamed it,’ said Harry. ‘There’s that bag of food by the door. Who left that?’
Ron shrugged.
‘And we did have that talk with Douglas and he did ask us to stay the night!’
‘But there’s no Douglas here,’ Ron waved a hand at the surroundings, ‘or anywhere. Everyone’s disappeared.’
‘I- but- this isn’t possible!’ yelled Harry.
Ron stepped all the way out of the house and walked around to the back. Harry followed him.
‘Nothing,’ sighed Harry.
‘Nothing,’ agreed Ron. ‘This is bad. What’re we going to do?’
Harry completely lost. How could it be? It was all real; it had to have been real! But now that everything was gone…
Harry walked back into the empty house. He knelt by the door, took the bag of food and upended it. Food rolled every where. Two loaves of bread a full chicken, a cloth-encased bottle full of some kind of drink, and a box filled with some kind of turnover: a pastry bag full of meat and vegetable. It looked delicious. At the very bottom of the bag were two pairs of thick woolen socks. But nothing more. No letter, no note, no sign that a man named Douglas Grant ever really existed. Harry stuffed the food back into the bag angrily.
Ron came up behind him. ‘My hand is better,’ he said.
‘It is?’ asked Harry, turning around to look.
Ron’s wrist was back to normal. It was hard to believe. There was no sign of blood or a wound. Harry didn’t know much about muggle medicine but he was almost sure that even the best stuff wasn’t good enough to fix a shattered wrist. Especially not in this era when the doctors couldn’t even understand fungus-induced fits. But however impossible it was, it proved one thing. Douglas hadn’t been a dream.
‘So we didn’t dream it all up,’ said Ron.
Harry nodded. He was feeling horribly confused. ‘I—’ Harry stopped and then began again. ‘Maybe we should move on. I mean, there isn’t any point of staying here, is there? We can go to Lynn.’ A little something tickled the edges of Harry’s mind and this time he was able to grasp the notion. His eyes widened in realization… maybe… maybe… but Ron’s voice cut his train of thought short.
‘I guess,’ replied Ron. ‘If you want to risk it.’
‘What’s left to risk?’ Harry muttered under his breath.
Ron heard his words. ‘Our lives,’ he said angrily, and he strode past Harry, down the path that no longer existed.
Harry got to his feet and followed Ron, pushing his idea to the back of his mind. He could chew on that later.
‘A jump, skip and a hop, my foot! Wait till I get my hands of that little disappearing rat of a human. I’ll strangle him!’ Ron grumbled through chattering teeth, making a barbaric motion with his hands.
For the first time in days the sky above was clear. The stars had come out and were beginning to twinkle as the wind gained courage and blew stronger and harder, sweeping the snow clouds away. A full moon shown brightly in the night sky, the white sparkling in inky black, so that it cast shadows on the snow dappled ground.
Harry and Ron had been walking for hours, stopping only to eat and rest for few minutes at a time. They didn’t want to waste time and they knew they couldn’t afford to. Neither knew what time it was, but both knew that they wouldn’t sleep until they reached Lynn or some other settlement.
The rising wind posed a much greater threat than the snow, it seemed. Both Harry and Ron were shivering, a motion that had begun in their numb feet and spread through each limb. Their teeth chattered constantly, their breath rose in white puffs, as the icy wind sliced at their faces, bringing tears to their eyes. We could freeze just standing still, thought Harry.
‘Do you realize that we have no idea where Lynn is?’ Harry whispered to Ron.
Ron was silent for a second and then Harry heard him laugh, almost hysterically. ‘Yes,’ he said, giggling a little. ‘Why are you whispering?’
Harry had to stop his own urge to burst out laughing. ‘Shut up with the laughing,’ he said to Ron. ‘You sound insane. And I don’t know why I’m whispering. I guess it’s just too… quiet.’
‘Yeah, it is,’ replied Ron, controlling his laughter. ‘It’s like… like someone is watching us… and we’re in their little world, doing exactly what they want us to, you know? Like this is all a bunch of scenery and we’re just… going around in circles. Nothing is changing, nothing is moving. It’s just too quiet.’
Harry shivered at Ron’s description. For one thing, he’d never heard Ron sound so… un-thickheaded. For another thing, he was exactly right. It did feel like they were on a movie set acting out a very bizarre film. No birds twittered, no animals moved. There were no prints in the patches of snow on the ground, of humans or animals. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled but that was it. Besides that, Harry and Ron may as well have been the last humans on earth.
‘Remember I was telling you a few days ago,’ began Harry, ‘about that feeling that I had. That we were sent here for a reason. Maybe Voldemort—‘
Ron didn’t even bother flinching. ‘Look, mate,’ he interrupted. ‘I think you’re getting too paranoid. Even You-Know-Who wouldn’t be stupid enough to send us into 1692. What’s the point? I mean, we could easily have missed the amulet that day in Hogsmeade. Then what? His plan would have gone down the drain.’
‘I know,’ Harry said rubbing his hands together, ‘but… I just can’t get the feeling out of my head. It’s all to well put-together. It’s all too planned out. It’s almost too perfect.’
Ron laughed skeptically. His face was pained, as he said, ‘Hermione dying, running out of food, getting shot, losing our wands, running into a psycho disappearing man who loves death, getting lost in the middle of nowhere, forgetting to ask the damn directions to Lynn. You’re right, it is perfect. Perfect dream vacation.’
‘That’s what I mean. No, listen! We were transported to Salem in 1692. The time of the witch trials. It was even the perfect time, just when the witch hunts began! But there is something wrong with the story we’re living. This isn’t how it happened in history. I don’t ever remember hearing about any Emily being the first witch hanged! And no where is any teenage girl mentioned in the books. Binns never said anything either. I mean he droned on about it for weeks. He’d have mentioned that one of the first witches hanged was a teenager. It should have been in the books that Hermione was hanged. The court records would have her name on them, it would have been recorded in most history books! But it wasn’t!’
‘So,’ said Ron. ‘We changed history. Big deal.’
Harry shook his head. ‘But that can’t be right. Changing the past is a huge breach in the wizarding community. Hermione dying should have alerted the Ministry of today, because her death never happened originally. Neither did Emily’s. Shouldn’t the Ministry of Magic have swooped down on us the second Hermione died? Shouldn’t we be in Azkaban or something right now? The Ministry would have detected the change, no matter what, and they would have done something to fix it!’
Ron looked confused. ‘But that would be if Hermione had altered history. Maybe she didn’t alter history. She didn’t kill her past-self; she killed herself in the present. I mean, she got herself killed… she died… she…you know! She didn’t change her own history at least.’
‘Fine,’ replied Harry. ‘Hermione didn’t change her own history, but she did change the history of Massachusetts. The records should have told us about her and Emily getting hanged, but they don’t, do they? The real records talk about some Rebecca lady. There was no Rebecca hanged. No matter how you look at it, the history of Salem was changed. We should be back home right now, getting in trouble with the Ministry.’
Ron shook his head, as they continued to walk. ‘Still, it doesn’t prove we’re here for a reason.’
‘Look, lets say that Hermione’s dying changed history. Or even if that didn’t change history our arrival at the Becker house did. So basically we changed history but no one has busted us for it. Now look at the rest of our days here. Every time something bad happens, something else happens to make it a little better. We started out having a good time a t Salem but then Hermione… and we left and then…we met Stephen, he shot you and we forgot our food. Then we met Douglas who gave us food, a bed, and a few socks.’
Ron shook his head. ‘That’s just one little thing Harry.’
Harry groaned. ‘Look, I can feel that we’re here because someone wants us to be here! We should have been able to get back home, but that stupid little amulet was a one way! It doesn’t make sense for it all to be an accident! Why would anyone want to come here to stay here forever? When they could easily be killed?’
‘I don’t know mate,’ replied Ron, ‘but there must be a reason. We’re here by accident because I had to push that button and that is it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’
‘But, Hermione’s book—’
‘Harry, I don’t want to talk about her!’ said Ron angrily, Harry cut himself off immediately.
Just as the two friends became silent, the idea he’d had before jumped back to him, and struck him like lightning. He spun around and grabbed Ron’s shoulders.
‘He was Dumbledore!’ Harry exclaimed in a shocked whisper.
Ron gazed at Harry, giving him a look that said he was seriously questioning his best friend’s sanity. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Douglas!’ said Harry excitedly. ‘He was Dumbledore in disguise!’
Ron’s eyes widened, not in realization, but in disbelief, and maybe exasperation. But he didn’t reply. He just continued walking, moving a good distance away from Harry.
Harry sighed but gave up trying to explain his feelings. Maybe he was just being paranoid, stupid. Maybe he was just trying to look for a logical explanation for everything. The night was getting darker, the moon had set. It was pitch black around them and even the bright snow look dark blue. Harry and Ron continued to trudge forward, hoping they’d reach their destination soon, and once again, wondering how they would get back home.
‘This isn’t right… it’s horrible! It’s not fair to them. They’ve been there so long. They should know!’
‘Ah yes, many things in life are horrible. And yes, they should know, but as you have seen they are slowly beginning to understand, even if they don’t admit it. And as you know, even if they don’t understand now, they will soon enough.’
‘But… they’re so helpless, and… and… alone…’
A brief rustling is heard, followed by a sigh.
‘No matter how many friends you have, you always enter and leave this life alone. It is a lesson all must learn. Some earlier than others.’
Silence ensues, but it is quickly broken by an angry voice, a voice holding back tears.
‘Why twice, Professor? Why not once… only when they… we… have to face it… only when we must… why twice?’
The replying voice is tired, worn, exhausted. It sounds as though it is just waiting for it’s time to leave life behind… waiting for the eternal sleep.
‘Because, my dear, a fear once overcome, is easier to face the second time.’