"The time bubble will tear the great known world apart! In less than five minutes Epsilon Three will be inverted into it and it will be worse than a black hole tearing apart the very fabric of the universe!"
"How do we stop it?
"There really isn't..."
"There has to be a way!
"If someone goes through..."
"That isn't guaranteed! And it is suicide!"
"I'll do it."
"What? Marcus, you can't. There is no way to tell if it would work. It might not."
"It's a chance, right? If we stand here and do nothing we're all dead, but if I go in at least we'll have tried something. Either way, I'm dead - and I like my odds better trying than sitting here and doing nothing. What do I need to do?"
The words continued to ring through Marcus' mind as he drifted in and out. All that existed around him and in him were those words. As the explanation of what he needed to do started up for what seemed like the hundredth time, he felt a sudden jolt as air rushed into his lungs causing his back to arch for a moment before falling hard against the ground below him. It was at this point that his eyes blinked open and he saw a large tree towering above him and sunlight streaming from the branches.
"Oh, Bugger." He was supposed to be dead. He knew at least that much things were fuzzy in his mind and as he lay there, things started to fade in his mind. The words were less clear and the images were broken. He could see a face of concern in his mind and a bright light and diving into it. As the images dissipated and the words grew into a distant memory he lay there staring at the sky. This was most certainly not dead. He could feel a weight of fatigue all throughout his body and he knew that if he lifted his head it was going to be throbbing and in a great deal of pain as well. A small groan escaped his lips. Laying there until heaven knew when was not an option he needed to get up and figure out what in the name of sanity was going on, what was happening.
The moment he shifted to get up the tree did as well. In an instant, the branches were coming down at him and he just managed to roll away, his body reacting to the situation before his mind was. He grabbed a small metal cylinder that extended into a long pole and began to deftly counter and block the flailing limbs of the tree that was swinging at him. All the pain and fatigue that he had felt moments before were gone pushed aside and forgotten in the heat of the moment. Fighting a tree was not exactly part of his training and if he had been told he would be doing that in his lifetime he would have told the person that they were barking. Yet here he was taking on an overgrown tree with serious anger management issues. It wasn't like he had tried to pee on it or invited himself to sit under it. What set it off he didn't know but he knew enough that you didn't take a tree like this full on and so as he used his den'bok to rebuff another swing of the tree all while jumping over a low swing of a branch he moved to get out of this tree's reach. He finally just found himself out of reach with a summersault that if it had landed short would have ended with a solid blow against him by the tree. Having solidly missed him the tree seemed to let out a creaking groan as it raised up into its statuesque position.
"Have I somehow found myself on the planet of the killer trees?" he asked of no one in particular as he caused his weapon to collapse into a smaller more manageable form. He sheathed that beneath his robes as the pain and fatigue from before started to ebb back and he staggered as the world began to spin around him. He had to figure out where in the universe he was and what was going on. What was next was the grass going to rise up and start biting at his ankles?
He looked to the grass for a moment waiting for that to happen next before he gave up on it and turned to see the most remarkable thing he had seen in a very long time. A castle, a right bloody castle full on with grand stone stairs and towers. He wouldn't have been surprised if further out there were ramparts. Of course, it was missing a moat but who needed a moat when you could potentially have a grove of killer trees? Not to mention there was a lake.
Marcus' attention didn't sit there for long and a woman in a long cloak billowing behind her came rushing down the last few steps and across the large lawn toward him. Instinct put him on guard and he was ready to pull our his den'bok if necessary. "For the love of Merlin! What in the world do you think you were doing? I have a right mind to report you..." The words fell off of the woman's lips as she took a closer look at Marcus and took in his attire. "Who are you? How in the world did you get here? You are not one of the students."
"Student?" asked Marcus in confusion noting that this woman was of an English background. It wasn't often anymore than he came across a fellow Brittan. "No, I -" Marcus faltered and stumbled forward a bit.
"Are you alright dear?" The woman took on a concerned tone as she reached out a hand to potentially try and steady him.
Marcus opened his mouth to try and tell her what all had happened but the words never left his mouth and his body slumped into the woman's arms and he was out cold. He was unaware of any noises and sounds until he heard soft voices speaking a male and female the woman who he had met outside but he wasn't outside anymore. He was on a bed a soft bed and the place smelled distinctly medicinal. He didn't quite open his eyes and he kept very still as he listened to what was being said.
"I don't know where he came from Headmaster. I was on my way out to meet with Remus Lupin and there he was out on the lawn fending off the whomping willow. You don't think he could have apparated do you?"
"I highly doubt that Poppy. The charms and protections around the school are still standing strong. It is not possible to have apparated into school grounds."
"You don't think it was some form of dark magic. With the news that has been going on outside the castle..."
"I hardly think that to be the case either. You yourself said that he was found without a wand and while there are some witches and wizards myself included who are capable of some small forms of wandless magic - there are none who are capable of achieving something as great as breaking into Hogwarts without a wand."
"Then how do you think he got here?"
"That I don't know but hopefully when our mysterious young man awakens, he will be able to shed some light onto the situation."
With the Marcus heard the shifting of people as he assumed the man walked away. Marcus didn't dare move or look around as he listened to what was around him. He didn't dare indicate that he was awake as it seemed he was going to be faced with an interrogation. At this point, he was at an advantage as he was thought to be unconscious. It was in his best interest to feign still being asleep so as to be able to gather more information, which his mind was already swimming. Wandless magic? Charms and protections around the school? Where the hell was he? There was no such thing as magic. Sure there were stories and tales of magic all throughout his countries' history but surely it wasn't real. He had seen some amazing and interesting things in his life the universe was filled with odd mysteries that were near impossible for him to explain or describe but he certainly would not call it magic, certainly not something with wands and charms.
As he chewed on this new bit of information the door or rather what sounded like the door to the room he was in swung open with a loud bang. "Is he okay? Is he alright?" panted a tenor voice with concern.
"We knew he was sick but we didn't know he was that sick," offered yet another voice.
"Is - is he going to die!?" squeaked yet a third voice.
"Boys, please. Mr. Lupin is perfectly fine, he is currently resting."
"Can we see him?"
"Mr. Lupin needs his rest."
"Hey, whose that over there?" suddenly asked the tenor voice.
"He is none of your concern Mr. Potter."
"But who is he?" said the other voice that was not Potter.
"What about Remus?" spoke the squeaking voice once more.
"Gentlemen, please," begged Poppy, "This is a hospital wing and both of my patients need rest. You need not be concerned for anyone as they will both be fine. Now please move along."
"But Remus!" cried the squeaking voice.
"It's okay Madame Pomfrey," rasped a weaker voice close to Marcus.
"Remus!" called the other boy as a group of feet went rushing past his bead and there was the sound of a curtain being drawn back all while Madame PPomfreyas her proper name appeared to be called after the other boys to try and get them to stop.
"You alright mate?" asked the voice that belonged to Potter.
"Yeah, I'll be alright. Just tired, I didn't sleep very well I was up all night sick as a dog," said the raspy voice that Marcus assumed was Remus.
"I will give you five minutes then I shall insist that Mr. Lupin get his rest.
Marcus heard the soft footsteps of Madame Pomfrey glide away as Potter spoke in a soft tone. "You hanging in there Moony?"
"I'm fine just tired as I said before. That and sore. You know it is never easy going through a moon. You guys shouldn't have come."
"Aw come on Moony it was the last moon of the year. We had to," said Potter.
"You worry too much," added a gruff remark from the other voice - the not squeaky one.
Though Marcus wasn't watching as he was keeping his closed and not giving the slightest hint that he was awake and listening he could sense the tension that was coming from the group that was not far from him. It made him wonder, as did a great many other things that were being said. Why were they talking about the moon like that? This world was getting more and more curious. Instead of answers he was getting more questions.
"Do you know anything about the guy?" broke in the squeaky voice an edge of nervousness in it.
"No he was brought in with me. Madame Pompfrey found him outside - apparently he took on the whomping willow. They don't know much else about him."
"You don't think he knows do you?" asked Potter in a low tone.
"It might be possible," said Remus in a low raspy tone.
"He looks to be about our age," remarked the other voice moving closer by the sound of it. Their age? What did they mean? He was far from being a student.
"Padfoot don't," said Potter is a lazy tone as if it was something said out of habit but without conviction.
"He's got funny sort of robes on doesn't he?" said the looming voice of Padfoot, "They don't look to be muggle to me."
"Madame Pompfrey could be back at any minute!" said the squeaky voice a little more shrilly.
"Oh shut it Wormtail."
Marcus could feel the shifting presence near him and the shadow of a person above him getting a better look. "Why can't you leave well enough alone Sirius?" said Remus a little tersely.
Then a hand reached down and touched Marcus' shoulder as he words "Hey, mate" started to leave and then die on Sirius' lips. Instinct kicked in for Marcus and he wasn't inclined to let any person just touch him like that. It was unknown what that touch could entail. He didn't think these for boys meant him harm but he simply could not take that risk his hand jolted and took Sirius' wrist his eyes were open and looking into the shocked face of a young man with longish hair. He twisted the guy's wrist as he moved to stand up causing a flash of pain to cross his face as he fluidly moved out of the bed and onto his feet. He still felt weak and sore but he could push past that - it was part of his basic training as a Ranger.
"One false move and I'll break your wrist," he warned gently but firmly. He didn't want to do it but he would if he had to. He looked around quickly surveying his surroundings. The place looked a lot like a hospital wing what with beds and bed pans. He saw the faces of who he assumed was Remus sitting surprised in bed, a small blond boy hiding behind him and the bed and a boy with glasses who held a grim and determined look as he pointed a stick at him.
"You hurt him and I'll curse you so hard you'll wish it was only your wrist that was broken." So the boy with the glasses was Potter.
"Curse me?" demanded Marcus with a half laugh not believing what he was hearing, "How are you going to do that? Wave your stick at me?"
"What in the name of Merlin is going on?" cried Madame Pompfrey from behind Marcus.
Merlin? The aged wizard of old Arthurian legend? Surely not! "I would stay where you are Madame Pompfrey," called back Marcus he didn't need to look to know she stopped where she was. Marcus kept his eyes on the boys in front of him. He was going to explain how he didn't want to hurt anyone he simply wanted some answers when all of a sudden his fingers lost their grip on Sirius' wrist. He had no control or feeling in his fingers. What was going on here? Sirius wrenched himself free and pointed a stick at him as well.
"He is unarmed and no longer a threat," said Madame Pompfrey in a commanding sort of tone as she drew closer. "Mr. Potter if you will be so kind as to reverse the jinx."
Unarmed? Did they take his den'bok? He quickly checked to see if it was still on his person without making an obvious reach for it, all the while keeping his eyes on the boys that were across from him. His fingers felt like limp noodles and kind of moved like it too. How was this possible? "Would anyone like to explain just what exactly is going on?" boldly asked Marcus taking a chance to look at Madame Pompfrey as he took a casual seat on the bed - it was a good way to conserve energy. He wasn't going to turn his back on Sirius or Potter any time soon but a fight was not something he was looking for and really he might as well make the best of the situation at hand. Maybe a little bit of cordiality could help turn things around. Also it helped him to hide the fact that he was more than a little disturbed at the fact that his fingers were as if like jelly, they were returned back to normal in short order and he flexed them a bit as he looked to the two once more Remus and Wormtail were behind them and seemed to be inconsequential at the moment.
"We could ask the same of you," said Potter keeping his stick pointed at him. Marcus looked to him and calculated quickly in his mind what it would take and how quickly he could attack these two if he had to and what to do if Madame Pompfrey joined in on the attack as well. He didn't want to resort to that but he would if he had to and that is why he played it through his head.
"I suppose you could but I'm not the one poking things they know nothing about or pointing stick in people's faces now am I?" There was a nonchalant and casual air to Marcus' tone.
"I think that is quite enough!" snapped Madame Pomfrey in another commanding tone "You will put those wands away and leave the infirmary at once!" Taking another look at her as both sticks or rather 'wands' were lowered Marcus couldn't help noting that the woman Madame Pomfrey though young had a way about her - very commanding and Marcus respected that.