Moments in Time
Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling & C.S. Lewis
X: Twist
or
"There is no certainty. There is only adventure."
There are many things that you can twist.
A knife to the back, for instance. One deep plunge and a flick of the wrist and irreparable damage is done.
Or twisting the truth - Lord knows where a dark, winding trail of a multitude of little white lies could take you.
But the best twist of them all is in a story. Where all of a sudden, when you least expect it, a surprise is sprung on you ... and it was the last thing that you were expecting.
"They told me that I could find you in here."
"King Edmund!" Hermione gasped as she looked up from her books.
"Back to formal titles, are we?" Edmund questioned.
"Queen Susan doesn't seem to approve of much else, and the last thing I need is for word to spread that I am anything more than formal with you," Hermione whispered loudly, darting her eyes back and forth, feeling guilty for even speaking in the library in the first place. By habit, she half expected to see Madam Pince pop around the corner hissing at them.
"You don't have to worry about Susan," Edmund replied as her perched on the edge of the table, sinking his teeth into the ripe, red apple in his hand.
"I beg to differ," said Hermione as she turned her attention back to her research, but that was short-lived.
Upon the noise of tittering and girlish squeals, Hermione turned her head to see girls peeking through shelves and windows to catch a glimpse of the Just King.
"Looks like your fan club is here," she stated with little interest, honestly what was it with her and boys who had their own fan clubs?
"It appears so," replied Edmund in a bored tone and for a moment, he almost sounded like Harry.
"Why are you here King Edmund?" Hermione asked, the stares, much less his nonchalant attitude in her place of worship, were tearing away at her patience.
"Edmund," he corrected with a glint in his eye, "and ... I was bored."
"You were bored," Hermione repeated, half-heartedly putting her book aside, as she folded her arms over it in a motion of disbelief. Edmund shrugged though smiling with victory as he finally had her undivided attention.
"And out of all the places that you could go in the Kingdom and of all the people you could visit, you came to find me ... in the town library?" The incredulity in her voice was unmistakeable.
"You do make excellent company, Hermione."
Hermione rolled her eyes, she'd been around boys for far too long to let honeyed words and impish smiles charm her so easily, but she couldn't stop the blush that bloomed on her cheeks.
"What is it that you want?" she asked.
"What makes you think that I want something?"
"That's usually the reason why people come in search of me," she replied casually.
Edmund frowned for a moment before masking his expressions with a smirk again.
"Well ... yes, actually, I was going to ask if you were planning to come back to help me figure the rest of that code out..." He stopped when he saw the astonished look on her face.
"You want me to come back to the castle?"
"Yes."
"I hardly think that's the best course of action."
"Why not?"
"Your sister, for one. And besides, is it not supposed to be some confidential state secret? Imagine the scandal if the word got out. The accomplished Just King in need of the help of a simple barmaid."
"I didn't think that you were one to care for scandal ... and don't think for one second that you are fooling anyone with the 'simple' act. If your past is anything to go by, I would say that you were quite gifted up there," he pointed to his cranium in reference.
"You're right, I'm not ... one for scandal or simplicity ... but, I'm used to it. You're not. I don't think that you've ever had your name dragged through the dirt for simple association. Whatever pretty-boy image you have going on will be ruined if you were seen with me. Whatever I may have been ... back home, it means nothing here. No one can ever know ... and they never will. I'm sorry King Edmund, but you're going to have to find someone else to help you."
"Pretty-boy? Where do you get these descriptions from?"
Hermione stared at his exasperatedly, giving him a look that read 'was that all you gathered from my monologue?'.
"You know, I don't think that I've ever talked to a girl who was far more interested in a book than in me," he said, as she went back to ignoring his presence.
"Oh how pitiful," she replied, without as much as a glance in his direction.
Edmund raised his eyebrows with a smirk.
"What are you reading anyway?" He plucked the book off the table ignoring her heavy protests. "The Golden Age? Well, you must not be reading it thoroughly enough if you seem to still have the assumption that my name has never been sullied."
Hermione twitched, her eyes narrowing at him. Edmund smirked.
"Why are you even reading this?" He asked, flicking through the pages with little interest, his eyes darkened as he briefly caught an illustration of Jadis on the page.
"Because I need to find out how you went back home the first time!" She cried, her hands stretched out for the book.
"You want to go back," Edmund stated flatly.
"Yes," she replied, her voice terse.
"Why is it so important to you to go back?"
"Because it was important to Harry!" She cried.
Edmund studied her carefully.
"You are in love with him," he said, after a pause.
Hermione gaped at him.
"Of course not! He was in love with Ginny."
"But you were in love with him."
"I wasn't." She snarled, her face settling into a permanent scowl. "He's my best friend and ... and he's my family, I need to go back!"
"But you said he died."
"...He did."
"Then what is there for you, when you return?"
"The cause he set out to complete, someone needs to see to the end of it."
"And you think that you can finish it?"
"I know that I can, and I will die trying."
"You already died trying."
Hermione stared at him with a heartbroken expression. Her eyes started to water. Edmund grimaced.
"I-"
"No, don't take it back," she said with a hard voice. "Don't take it back when we both know that you meant it."
"I'm sorry."
"You're not."
"Don't put words into my mouth."
"I'm not and you know it. You're not sorry because you know that you are right and for however long you spend trying to convince me that there is no way back home, I will spend just as long trying to get back. And whether I end up in a grave for my attempts, at least, I will be buried next to my friends and family." She stood up and brushed past Edmund, holding her head up high but he could see that she was slowly crumbling on the inside.
"Hermione..." he called out, but she didn't stop.
"Hermione."
She broke out into a run.
Lucy knew that something was wrong with Edmund the moment she walked in on him practically running Caspian to the ground with his sword.
"Edmund!" She called out with shock.
Whatever spell he had been under, he snapped out of it under her distressed call. It seemed as though he had only then noticed how fiercely he had attacked Caspian during their training session.
She watched as he muttered an apology to their soon to be brother-in-law and walked away, his swords held limply in his hand.
Something was going on.
Edmund had been acting weird for many days now, and it was driving his siblings up the wall trying to figure out what exactly had him sulking like a toddler who had been refused treats. As ever, though, Edmund remained tight-lipped about what was bothering him. Susan was growing more displeased by the day, seemingly blaming the new girl in town for Edmund's behaviour. Lucy had brushed it off, at first, Susan's disdain for Hermione was nothing new ... but now, she wondered if Susan's comments had more merit that she had originally believed.
Whatever it may be, Lucy had not seen said Hermione Granger around for just as many days.
It was time she visited her new friend.
"Your Majesty!" The red-haired girl said with surprise as she opened the door. The sun had set and the calmness of the night was settling in.
"Salliah," Lucy smiled kindly, "how are you?"
"Very well, thank you, your Majesty, is there something I can help you with?" Sally asked with confusion.
"Yes, actually, I hope you don't mind my intrusion -"
"-not at all-"
"- but I'm actually here to see Hermione ... is she about?"
"Unfortunately not, your Majesty. Hermione left for her shift at the tavern. Shall I tell her about your visit when she returns?"
"No need, I will see her at the inn myself."
"... Your Majesty will have to beg my pardon, but is that safe?"
"Of course, it is! I am a Queen of Narnia. Anyone who mishandles me will have my brothers to answer to," the young Queen smiled wickedly.
"Perhaps I should accompany your Majesty ... just in case ..."
"There's really no need, but I wouldn't mind the company," Lucy replied amicably.
Sally smiled, stepping outside after checking that she had a key to the house on her. Locking the door behind her, the two young women walked in the direction of the inn.
It was a quiet night at the bar. Hermione's feelings towards her place of work remained unchanged, she had dreaded returning once she had been released from the palace infirmary.
Never before had she detested her work more.
Draco Malfoy may have believed otherwise, but she knew that she was better than cleaning sticky tables and sweeping the floors. She was a witch for Merlin's sake! She just needed to flick her wand and the tables would be cleaning themselves and the brooms will be sweeping away without being need to be held.
But she didn't have a choice. She was not a witch here in Narnia. She could never let them know. She had read about Jadis and her fate. While the tyrant had it coming, her rule over Narnia had scared all the inhabitants into assuming that magic was evil. She was not safe. It was a wonder that she had escaped her use of magic on the beast in the woods. She supposed that she had been lucky that they had all been charged with adrenaline to notice any abnormalities other than a three-headed beast.
She had, of course, heard whispers here and there of the Wicked Ice Witch, and had been pre-warned by Sally to never mention her in front of the royals but never would she have imagined that their hate for magic would be so deep-seated. It dated back to almost 1300-years ago.
Her caution while telling King Edmund of her past had been well placed, he of them all, had faced the worst of the White Witch. She had known, of some matter of instinct, that it was in her best interest to keep her magic a secret - whether that was just the ingrained habit of keeping it a secret from muggles or not being comfortable enough around the King - she didn't quite know. But she was so glad that she had listened to her gut, else she would currently be stuck in the dungeons of the castle than having free reign. And she doubted that the dungeons of Cair Paravel would be anything like the Slytherin common rooms. In fact, as she pondered further on the fact ... the Slytherin common rooms would have probably been more welcoming than being ostracized as a witch in Narnia.
Her life only seemed to get more complicated the more time she spent in this world.
So, without the aid of her magic, Hermione swept the floors and cleaned the beer-soaked tables, and was so pleased, ecstatic in fact, that her shift was nearly over. Throwing her towel into the basin filled with dirty water, she made her way back towards the kitchen.
She counted each step she took, there were twenty-eight steps in total to reach the kitchen - yes, she had already made note.
And that was when it happened.
It happened all too fast for any of the few remaining dwellers to be perfectly clear about what occurred.
But here's what they did know.
Martyn Hayhurst, a sleazy man in his late-forties - quite unattractive if you were to ask any women (balding hair, crooked yellow teeth, and a body odour that could give a skunk a run for its money) - slapped the new(-ish) barmaid on her pert derriere.
Now it wasn't a hard slap, per say; but in an inn that was nearing closing time with only a few drunk patrons remaining, the sounds echoed around the stone walls like thunder. Such attitude towards barmaids was not uncommon, in fact if you took the time to ask, the ladies would cry tears of the inhumane ways they were treated. However, these women were also in desperate need of a job, so they took what they got and never raised their voices to complain. But none of them were - of course - dear Hermione Granger.
Martyn Hayhurst should really have been warned of her ire when she reacted to his insolence by turning around - something no barmaid has ever done before. Where one would expect tears of distress and mortification in her eyes; there was fire. Her rage was palpable. Her soft curls were suddenly frizzy as though they were fizzling with energy, her pretty mouth was twisted into a foul scowl and her hands were fisted, her knuckles turning white with unrestrained anger. The air around her was almost suffocating.
Of course, Martyn Hayhurst was not a smart man. In fact, he was a stooge. So, where a wise man would have backed away, fearing the power this women now exuded, the fool took this as an invitation to pull her in for a kiss. After all, Hermione Granger was in her element when she was riled up. She would never looked more beautiful than when she is filled with purpose, such was the aura around her.
And ... all hell broke loose.
There was a sudden flurry of motions at once.
Hermione recoiled. Her hand snapped back into a fist and then she thrust it as hard as she could. It whipped through the air and connected with his nose. The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the walls much louder than the original slap against the posterior had. Martyn Hayhurst fell to the ground, his inebriation disorientating him. Jennings, the barkeeper was immediately on Hermione, he took a forceful hold of her upper arm to prevent her from throwing further punches towards one of his most loyal customers.
And out of the blue, King Edmund appeared, glaring equally at Martyn and Jennings.
"Unhand her." The Just King ordered with ice in his tone.
"Why are you holding me? Restrain him! How dare he touch me?" Hermione asked and exclaimed at the same time. A vibration of pain started in her (now red and raw) knuckles and spread all the way to her fingertips. She winced as Jennings squeezed her arm tightly before he let go.
The King looked at Hermione in shock, as though he was surprised to see her still taking action. A pleased gleam appeared in his eye as he stared at her with approval, but she only had eyes for the barkeeper and if looks could kill Jennings would be on his way to hell.
Jennings, nearly folding over in half, bowed before his King.
"Sire! I had no idea you were here. New girl, fetch his Majesty his usual." Jennings ordered Hermione.
Hermione gaped at him.
"Excuse me?" She squawked. "I was just sexually assaulted!"
"Marty is a harmless fellow."
"I beg to differ," she hissed.
"The man just assaulted this Lady, I hardly think he would be classified as harmless," Lucy suddenly appeared at their side.
Edmund glared at his sister, wordlessly questioning why she was out at this time of night. She ignored him, of course.
"Yo-your Majesty! Of course, your Majesty is right! Of - of course, the Lady is." Jennings practically whimpered at the sight of two monarchs in his establishment.
"Why you spineless coward," Hermione seethed at his blatant show of respect for only those with power to ruin him ... if only he knew just what she was capable of.
"Now look here wench-"
"Wench?" Hermione screeched.
"Mind your words in front of your Queen, Jennings," Edmund warned.
"Of course your Majesty - I apologise for my tongue. You - you won't have it cut off will you?"
"You vile, loathsome little cockroach ... your tongue will be the last of your worries once I'm done with you!"
The two men and women turned towards her, as though they kept forgetting that she was still there to defend herself. She glared at Edmund and Jennings with hate. She opened her mouth to speak her mind when:
"I - I -wi-will-not b-b-be b-b-be-bea-ten b-by eh-eh-ah lassieee," the drunkard, having regained his consciousness stuttered.
The five of them stared at him with varying degrees of amusement, chagrin, and hostility.
"I would stay down if I were you," Edmund warned the man, as he drew his sword and pointed it at him.
Now it has been said that Martyn Hayhurst was an unsound twit, but, however foolish he was, he was not an absolute imbecile. His hazy eyes connected in the middle as they stared at the sharp, silver sword pointed millimetres away from his nose and slowly (and somewhat wisely) laid back down on the grimy floor; keen to look as comfortable as possible. Whether it was his survival instincts finally kicking in or dizziness caused by the volume of alcohol he had ingested was to be proven.
"Hermione, dear," Hermione raised an eyebrow at Jennings' sickly sweet voice, "be a doll and mop up this puddle you made, will you? It is unsightly in front of the King and Queen." Jennings smiled thinly.
Hermione blinked at him owlishly. Edmund opened his mouth to state that the floor was so grimy that the water would probably give it a long needed clean, but Hermione beat him to it.
"Clean it yourself you oaf. I quit."
She turned on the spot and flounced out of the tavern.
"You can't quit!"
It could only be a coincidence that when the girl turned around and faced her ex-employer with a 'try me' expression on her face and her lips pursed tightly with anger. The fireplace behind Jennings suddenly roared with life, forming a large two-foot flame that threw some spittle and caught on unfortunate Jennings' behind, setting him on fire.
Hermione's eyes widened in shock and was that smugness? It must have been a trick of the lighting. Edmund was purely amused, watching as the man ran around patting his behind. Martyn Hayhurst, unable to keep his hands to himself, thought that he could be of help. The man slapped Jennings' behind, effectively putting out the fire but in turn, it earned him a punch from the barkeeper that knocked him out cold.
Oh, sweet irony.
Edmund turned back around to the door, to catch Hermione's eyes and share his amusement with her, but was disappointed to see that she had left.
Hermione walked at a brisk pace, the cover of the midnight sky casting shadows over the town made her doubly aware of the warnings that the Kader boys had given her. Usually, one of them came to collect her and walk her back home at the end of her shift. This was the first time that she was walking back alone and she had left Sally behind too!
"You walk fast for someone so small."
Hermione screamed as there was a voice next to her all of a sudden. She suppressed the flair of magic when she realised that it was just Edmund who had followed her.
"Apologies, I did not mean to give you a fright." He apologised instantly, as though it had been drilled into him many times that it was said by instinct.
"Why are you following me King Edmund?"
"A King does not follow anyone."
Hermione snorted. "Right. My mistake."
"You're not like the other girls." He cast her a curious look.
"Is that a compliment or an insult?"
He shrugged noncommittally, and she rolled her eyes.
"Is there a reason you are walking in the complete opposite direction of your castle?"
"Is there a reason for me to not go anywhere I please? I am a King after all - as you can't help but keep pointing out."
"Perhaps so, but you are conveniently choosing to walk this way at this precise moment and more specifically, with me."
"Are you suggesting that I want to give you company?"
"Not suggesting. Stating. After all, that was what so said to me in the library, wasn't it?" She spoke with bitterness in her tone, Edmund kept his face carefully composed. "Do you not have better things to do than to stalk the new girl in town? Or is that all that the Kings of Narnia do these days?"
Edmund snorted, unaffected by her snide comments.
"It seems as though you are in need of a new job," he said amiably.
"I'm sure Peter can have something arranged," she said, referring to the eldest Kader.
"I can have something arranged," he answered with a dark glint in his eyes.
Hermione shivered involuntarily at his sudden change in tone. She hardened her gaze moments after, who was he to order her around?
"What be upgraded from a barmaid to your personal whore, a position perhaps one of your fangirls will be more than happy to fill?" She replied frigidly, ignoring his gaze. She had heard the other barmaids talk about his brother's exploits; she was sure that he was no different. Men ... if only they knew how to think with the right head.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as he gripped hard on her upper arm and tugged her body against his until she was pressed completely upon him.
"What has changed your perception of me so quickly?" He asked, scanning her face intently, as though he would be able to read clues off of it ... that would only work if he knew legilimency.
Hermione glared at him.
"Can't trust traitors too much these days." It slipped out before she could stop it. She wasn't sure what possessed her to say it, but the moment she did, she regretted it.
Edmund's gaze cooled several degrees and the grip he had on her arm turned painful.
"Do not forget," his voice turned dark, "that you are a mere asylum seeker in Narnia. I could just as easily take away your citizenship as I gave it to you. You are in my debt for my kindness. Not to mention the lies you've told to everyone who trusts you."
Hermione stiffened against him. His firm grip prevented her from walking away ... before more hurtful words were spoken. But she wanted to. She wanted to hurt him for hurting her. She wanted to blame him as the reason why she couldn't return to Hogwarts. She knew that it wasn't reasonable, that it wasn't really his fault ... he had no control over it ... but it would be so much easier to place the blame on someone else for her misfortune.
Edmund too knew that she was being vindictive but he couldn't help but respond to her misplaced anger with his own spite. It was amazing how she had managed to change the camaraderie between them with just a sentence. She fell quiet, and Edmund decided, that he didn't like her quiet but before he could rile her up again with his words, she did something that he did not expect.
She kissed him.
It was a hard, yet subtle and barely there kiss. The mere press of her lips against his sent electricity down his spine, but she was not kind with her kiss. It was harsh, as though she was punishing him for antagonising her, punishing him for all her problems. Of course, it ended as soon as it started, so he had not responded to it - having been completely and utterly frozen in shock.
He stared at her with stupefaction as she glared at him maliciously.
"There! ... Is that the type of service you would like in return for your silence?" The utter disgust in her eyes sent a thrill of shame down his spine for using her trust in him against her but he could not help but feel ire at her unmerited judgement of him.
He growled as pushed her against the wall of the Apothecary, trapping her between it and his body.
"Don't test me." He glared at her, the pale flush of the moonlight cast shadows across his face, making him seem more threatening. "I do not like playing games."
She snorted in his face. "Is that not what you are doing to me right now? Dangling my life by a thread by your fingers? What do you want from me?"
"Your motives. A person who lies about their circumstances is up to absolutely no good."
"I have no motives and I have already told you my whole truth! You need to stop wasting your time on harmless citizens and focus on the real problems at hand like the embezzlement at Court. And let me go! I am sick of the men in Narnia assuming that they can treat women any way they please."
"How do you know about the embezzlement?"
Edmund was so close to her that their noses were millimetres away from each other. Both of them stared daggers at one another, hate rippled through them like a flood. Hermione faltered in her gaze, anxiousness seeping in as she realised she had spoken too much.
"How do you know!" He was not shouting at her but the tone of his voice promised his hostility. "Only a handful of people know, so don't make me ask you again." He was gripping painfully at her shoulders again.
"I-I overheard Peter speaking about it."
"Kader?" Edmund confirmed, and she nodded with a wince. Edmund lightened his grip on her momentarily. "How did he find out?" He asked rhetorically.
Hermione remained silent.
"Who was he speaking to?" He glared at her when she remained silent out of loyalty. "Speak now or the entire Kader family will be finding themselves beside you in the dungeons."
"I don't know!" She relented. "I didn't see his face but he seemed to be pressing Peter on the matter. Oliver called me away to escort me to the tavern before I learnt more!"
Edmund remained silent and thoughtful for a long while. Hermione shifted uncomfortably against the coarse wall pressing into her back.
"You're not going to jail us are you?" The way she asked it, with an innocent, vulnerable voice, made Edmund snap back to the moment. He regarded her with a closed expression.
"I promise that you can keep your citizenship and the other Kaders safe if you accept my proposal."
She frowned at him but he sent her a warning glare reminding her of her position.
"I want you to spy on Peter Kader."
"Absolutely not!" She spat.
"That or the dungeons. Take your pick."
"This is blackmail! I will not spy on the man who gave me a home."
"If that man is a threat to Narnia, then you bloody well will do as I say or you will find yourself in the gallows with the lot of them before you can blink!"
"They call you the Just King, but they do not know the real you - you are ruthless."
"It is my ability to be ruthless that makes me Just. If it weren't for my capacity to make the hard decisions that my siblings cannot, then Narnia would have been run to ruins before we even had a chance of returning it to its glory."
"I pity the fool who falls in love with you."
"I think you'll find, Miss Granger, that there's more to life than puppy love. Love only serves to bring pain."
"Sounds like inexperience."
"You're right, I do not have time for such pointless frivolities, and you, of all people, cannot tell me that you do not feel pain for all the loved ones you lost in the war. Who was it now ... Harry? Ronald?" Edmund knew that he had spoken too much when her lips trembled slightly.
"I a-"
"Go to hell." She cut off his apology.
"I'm not sure that a hell exists in Narnia, and I'm sure I have many years yet to find out."
"I'm sick of arguing with you."
"We're not arguing, merely having a heated discussion, and I'm still waiting for an answer."
"It was never a question, though, was it? You and I both know that whether I like it or not, I will have to do as I am told."
"Glad that we're both on the same page then."
"I loathe you."
"...There's a long line of people who do, sweetheart." He smirked.
Hermione glared at him.
"How am I supposed to reach you with any information I find - though, I severely doubt that there will be any," she sneered.
"You will know."
"That's not very specific."
"I think you will find that espionage is always best dealt with the smallest amount of details."
"Espionage? Do you think that this is some James Bond book? You're talking about a family's livelihood here. You could ruin them!"
"Or they could ruin us. This isn't a schoolyard game that you are used to, running around with your friends. There is an entire kingdom hanging in the balance and if you have any ounce of righteousness in you, then you know that I am well within my rights in asking you to do what I am. If you want to do what's right, then you will do as I ask."
Silence hung between them.
Her eyes stuttered with reluctance and self-hate.
He took her silence as her consent.
"You will report to me tomorrow afternoon. In my solar. After all ... there's a code that needs to be broken." He smirked and with that, he turned around and left, leaving Hermione, in the middle of the town square, on her own.
"Unchivalrous prat," she seethed as she collected herself and made her way home. Her heart weighed down heavily with every footstep she took towards the Kader home.
Little did she know that the Just King had sent his trusty Wolf with her, to ensure her safe arrival.
"What on earth just happened?" Sally whispered, forgetting her place in front of the Queen.
But Lucy either did not hear or simply did not care as she stared at the disappearing backs of her brother and his ... girlfriend?
They had not heard much of Edmund's and Hermione's conversation, it had all been a bit hush-hush, but they had witnessed the kiss and the passionate embrace against the wall afterwards.
Lucy blushed at the thought.
She had never expected to see this day come. She wasn't sure what she had been anticipating when she had made the decision to follow them but she certainly did not think of that.
But there was one thing that she could see coming from a mile away: Susan was going to lose her shit when she found out.
.
.
.
It was like hell on earth disguised as heaven.
"We're screwed, absolutely buggered I tell you."
"Stop saying that," came a flat response.
"But you know that we are, we are so lost without her. We've been in this bloody woods for two weeks now and we still can't figure our way out."
"That's because you've been walking in circles."
"What? Who said that?" The boy spun around, multiple times, a strange stick in his hand, as he searched for the source of the mysterious voice.
"Down here," it spoke again, twitching its whiskers.
"Harry, tell me you're seeing what I'm seeing," Ronald Weasley insisted, his wand pointed at the ... abnormality.
"I think we've gone a few days too long without food or water," Harry Potter replied with wide eyes.
"It's a talking rabbit ... a talking rabbit!" The red-head reiterated, his wand hand shaking.
"Of course, I'm a Talking Rabbit!" It bristled its whiskers. "My name is Babbitty Rabbitty and move that stick away from my whiskers."
"I think I'm officially hallucinating," Ron whispered, as he held his head in his hands.
"Babbity Rabbitty, why does that name sound familiar?" Harry frowned.
"Harry! How do you still not know? Babbitty Rabbitty and the Cackling Stump? For all those hours you spent reading that book Dumbledore left behind, you forget the best story!" Ron admonished. "You're not a witch in disguise, are you?" Ron asked the Rabbit with trepidation.
The bunny looked almost ready to faint at the thought. Whatever protests it had was drowned by Harry's comment.
"Are you telling me to memorise a book?" Harry looked at Ron with a stunned expression.
"I am going mad," Ron whispered, looking horrified.
"Oh, dear. Mad? Goodness, you're not going to kidnap me are you?" Babbitty bumbled.
"Kidnap a rabbit? Are you mad? You're not even real!"
"Did you hit your head against a tree lad? Of course, I'm real!"
"Harry, just end me now. For the love of Merlin, please!"
"Stop overreacting Ron." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Er ... Babbitty?" Harry questioned, with an extremely befuddled expression on his face, "can you tell us where ... we are?"
"Definitely hit your head on a tree! We're in Narnia, of course! The land of the Great Aslan."
Ron and Harry turned towards each other with wide eyes.
What had they got themselves into this time?
.
.
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A.N./ Did you see any of that coming? Yes, that's right, the boys are back in town ... didn't think that I would split the Golden Trio up, did you?
Thank you so, so much for all the wonderful 13(!) reviews you left for the previous chapter and also to those who have followed and favourited this story.
Thanks to: James Birdsong, Guest, Sameen Hadiya, Royal Lemur, craaazyaboutMalfoy, Summer Orchid, AliceinWonderland13, Suzululu4moe, Littlemissmoffey, Comic Critic, and twztdwildcat!