To me, this chapter is rather boring. It contains a LOT of explaining, and I'm really sorry about that. And thanks, 4give4get, for pointing out the fact that Sam arrived at the house of just the right person that could tell her about Gold's Pebble. I fixed my mishap in this chapter, by telling about a strange thing that Gold's Pebble does. Thanks again! Sometimes I get caught up in the story and don't think about those sort of details! And thanks, everyone else, for reading and reviewing and putting my story on Alerts. It makes me feel...well, wonderful! Also, if this chapter seems a little fast, or tedious, or confusing, I'm sorry! As I was writing this, I had the distraction of a wonderful snack called strawberries with chocolate, which I was munching on as I wrote this. But I am at least satisfied with the way things turned out, and I hope you all enjoy! And feel free in your reviews to tell me what you don't like in this story. I don't know what I am doing wrong unless I am told. I've never been told how to write fiction, so sometimes my story or sections of it might not be the best. I also would appreciate tips on how to make my story better. A better story makes a more enjoyable story! Thanks!

"Later that day I found out for myself what Gold's Pebble could do," Kit continued. "It happened just the way you described it. I was alone in my dormitory and fiddling with it. All at once, it split open, and all the mist poured out. Now, I was quite frightened, you know, probably even more than you. I never was one on bravery when I was younger. Anyway, after the mist or whatever it was cleared, I found myself in the midst of a section of a rundown city. The buildings around me were all dark gray, and the road had potholes and was covered with bottles and other trash. A big, ivy-covered, and very unclean building was the nearest to me, and I noticed an old, gnarled man sitting on a rocker on the dilapidated porch. He liked near one hundred, or perhaps even older, I never did really find out. He was holding the newspaper on his lap, and when he saw me, he practically jumped off the rocker, and the newspaper fell to the ground. He beckoned to me, his eyes on Gold's Pebble.

"Now, I have already mentioned that I wasn't the bravest of souls. And I was shaking all over when this happened. But the man looked like he really wanted to speak to me, and he was the only person I could see on the street, and I needed someone to tell me exactly where I was. So, I went up to him. He had on a humongous pair of glasses with lens that must have been a fourth of an inch thick. I could see about a hundred wrinkles, and the skin under his eyes drooped. He had hardly any hair, just a fair bit of white stuff at the very center of his head.

"For a while we just stood there, I staring at him, and he staring at what I held in my hand. His eyes were practically popped out of his face, and they looked colossal behind his glasses. For a while longer, we stared, until finally he spoke. I remembered his words exactly. He asked, 'Why you?' And I had no idea how to reply to his unclear question. So I said, 'Can you tell me where I am, sir?' He didn't reply, but asked me to come in. He seemed like an okay man, and I was in a rather desperate circumstance, so I complied.

"He took me in a kitchen that looked just like the outside of his house. Cobwebs adorned each corner and around the table legs on the table in which we sat. He moved rather nimbly for his age, and offered me tea. I politely refused, and he sat down next to me.

"When I think back to then, and think about now, I realized that our situations were quite similar. We both landed outside a house, were scared to death, were offered in by the owners, and then offered tea in the kitchens. Anyway, the man sipped his tea, and I stared at the dirty and dusty wood on the table. I finally asked him his name. It was Rudolph J. Phillips, he told me, and I told him mine. He nodded and asked for me to put Gold's Pebble on the table. I did so, and he looked it over, touching it with the very tips of his long fingers. He nodded occasionally, and finally looked up at me in sympathy. 'What career where you planning to enter, Miss Kit?' I told him I'd like to be a teacher. But I didn't mention that I wanted to be an Ancient Runes teachers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How could a muggle, as I assumed he was, understand that? But he surprised me when he asked, 'At Hogwarts, my dear?' I nodded dumbly. But his eyes were sad when he said, 'You won't be teacher for long, dear, I'm sorry to say. I wouldn't even enter the job. You should just gid rid of the thing, find yourself a nice house, and settle down and enjoy the rest of your life before you perish.' I asked him what in the world did he mean, and he said, 'My dear, you are now the owner of Gold's Pebble. The world has only seven more years to look upon your lovely face.'"

Kit now shuddered, and stared at the table. "That was four years ago. I have only three more years."

"How do you mean?" I asked, thoroughly frightened.

"I mean," and here she sighed in between her sentence, "that I only have three more years to live. The old man is dead now, he died a few months after I got the information about Gold's Pebble and how we was connected to it. He had been its owner almost seven years ago, before he destroyed it. Or at least he thought he did. He used a powerful spell given to him my a powerful wizard, and he sent the object far away, away from him. But he thought he had destroyed it, not sent it away. He knew it was evil. He knew he was going to die. And he didn't want anyone else to find it. To become its victim…

"Mr. Gold, years ago, hid the object in that room which we called A Room of a Different Color. It was a room where you could get anything you want. Whenever. If you needed a good place to seek shelter from a cruel teacher, well, all you had to do was walk three times in front of a blank wall, thinking of what you wanted. And a door appeared, and then you could go in.

"I learned from Phillips that Gold saw seven years after he found the pebble. He saw seven more years before he died. The pebble had been left by him, because Mr. Gold discovered the evils of the object, and since he couldn't destroy it, he hid it in that room. A room with all sorts of places to hide junk. There were already hundreds of objects in the room. It made a good place to hide an unwanted object."

"Wait a sec," I interrupted. "You mentioned a room where you had to walk three times in front of a blank wall, and then a door appeared. I…I've been in that room. I mean, at least I think we are talking about the same room. Is it the one near the tapestry with the guy teaching those trolls or whatever to dance?"

Kit nodded. "It sure is. Why were you in there?"

"Some kind of mirror was in there. But why are you going to die?" Kit could defiantly tell I did not want to get off that subject, by the intensity of my question.

"Let me finish my story, Samantha. Well, Mr. Gold died, and around three hundred years later, the object was found by Phillips. Phillips was a very old teacher at Hogwarts, and had been seeking a place to hide a large pouch of money he had one in a game of cards. He, like you and me, was transported back in time, to meet Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold didn't know he was going to die, but he did tell, rather reluctantly and in his rather cruel manner, that he was just a year out of Hogwarts, and told him about the pebble he had once owned and all its evils. And when Mr. Gold was done explaining, he ordered Phillips out of the house, with the pebble still in his hands. And before Phillips knew what was happening, the mist was spilling out of it, and back he went to A Room of a Different Color. Now, he was quite old at the time, but tucked the object in his cloak and retired from old age that same year. He too discovered its evils. And somehow, the pebble revealed to him that he was going to die seven years after he had first went many years back in time with it. Mr. Gold never did figure that one out. But I met Phillips when I went back in time, before he died, and he told me about it. And he told me he was going to die, that he did not mean for the object to be sent back to Hogwarts. (He figured that the object would always return near to wherever it had been previously hidden). But it happened, and I found it, and I am going to be its third victim. I used the same piece of magic to dispel the pebble. Maybe, Phillips and I thought, these two magic spells would finally do it in. Obviously not. And I guess it found its way back to Hogwarts. Back to you. You were indeed the first to find it, correct?"

"Err, well, no. Not exactly. See, my sort-of-friend found it, and he buried it. And I dug it up. Maybe he went back in time too."

Kit shook her head and took another long sip of tea. "No, he didn't. He is not the owner of the pebble. If he was, I would have seen him before I saw you. The stone always takes you back to the previous owner, before they die. It did the same to you, see."

"But why? And does that mean…" I trailed off, and Kit answered me slowly.

"Phillips and I figured out why it took you back in time. We knew it could not a just a coincidence that it took us back in time to the previous owner, who could tell us all about it. Things like that just don't happen. We, or just I now, know that Gold's Pebble takes you back in time because it wants to inspire fear in you. It wants to make you afraid of it. It wants you to know that after you have became its owner, which is when you take it back in time (although that was not the case of Mr. Gold. He became its first owner once he removed it from the stone. He never did go back in time, but still the stone inspired the fear in him), that it will kill you in seven years. Why? No one knows, and not anyone but Mr. Gold, Phillips, you, and I know that it kills you exactly seven years after you become its owner. Of course, the book I read told about it, because Phillips told about it, after he retired. But it only did good things in the presence of others. Only benign magic, not malignant, like it would in the sole presence of its owner. And no one, not even Phillips, could get the pebble to go back in time to meet Mr. Gold. Of course, when Phillips was alone, it would transport him to any time he wanted, but once he was almost killed with a horrible spell in the future, he never used the pebble for time travel again. Never. But because of what it was, the pebble was given a name, and earned its place in a few books. But because Phillips insisted it was evil, what exactly the pebble did was not mentioned in the books. No one knew if Phillips was lying or not. So I never did figure out if it was good or bad before it was too late. And out of fear, Phillips never did tell anyone that the object would kill him. The wizard that gave him the piece of magic that dispelled the pebble didn't even know what Phillips was using the magic for. Only Phillips knew what was going to happen to him. And he died. And I just bet that everyone thought he died of old age. I mean, he was near a hundred or even older than that."

"But how does it kill you?" I asked in a choked voice. I felt as if I had eaten a bowl of large stones, and some sharp thorns. My stomach felt that bad. I had a feeling where this conversation was leading to.

"You just…die. Seven years later, you just die. You just collapse. If you're asleep with the exact time comes, you die in your sleep. See, if I am up when my time comes, I'll just die. I told you, the pebble is evil. It just kills you."

"So…that means…" I could barely finish my sentence. "That'll I die too?"

She nodded. "Yes, in seven years. I'm so sorry. And you're so young, too." Kit would not look at me as she said, "But from the time you're from…what year did you come from?"

"1939," I replied weakly, staring at my empty cup of milk.

"Well, when you go back to your time, I'm dead. I guess that means you'll die in the last year of your time at-"

I cut her off, because I couldn't stand to hear talk like that. "Isn't there some way it can be destroyed? If it's destroyed, I bet I'll live, and maybe even you'll live, if I destroy it right now!!" My breath was coming out in gasps, as if I had just run a grueling race. And I felt as if I was about to be sick.

Kit sighed. I don't know how to destroy it, Sam. I'm sorry. Maybe you'll figure it out before…" Kit didn't finish her sentence, but I knew what she was going to say: before I die.

But then Kit said something that changed my life. "But….maybe you can go to that wizard that helped Phillips dispel the pebble. Maybe, if you explained the situation, he might know what to do. I'm too scared to go to him, I heard he's as fierce as an upset lion and cruel as the stormy sea. Maybe he'll listen to a kid, though. He listened to Phillips well enough, but Phillips did have to give a large amount of money to him to learn the spell. I just sense something about you. You just seem to have this aura of…convincement. Of love, even. When you get back to your time, go to him. Use the pebble. Remember, when you may get hurt when you travel with the pebble, you cannot die. It ensures that you live exactly seven more years. Why, I bet if I did something that seriously put my life in danger, I would not die. The pebble wants you to have seven horrible years. Seven horrible years of waiting for death. I'm not even sure if the…Avada Kedavra would kill you. I'd be afraid to find out. I just want to live a happy life before I die. If I still had the stone, it would be causing me much pain before my time comes. But you have it, and if you want to live your life in peace before you die, give it to someone else. If you are in possession of it, it is truly evil to you. It gives you horrible luck, I know. It causes death of your loved ones, it puts you into financial troubles, and it tortures you every night with horrible dreams. I'm so glad Phillips told me how to get rid of it. I'm sorry that you got it, but I just couldn't take the pain it caused me the week I had before I sent it away."

Kit let that sink into my mind, and her eyes were guilty as she stared at me. "Sorry," she muttered, fingering the tablecloth.

"It's okay, I understand. Just tell my the name of the man and where he is," I asked of her impatiently.

"His name is strange. Let me right it down for you." She headed over to the counter to get a pencil and a piece of paper.

"But wait, Kit!" I exclaimed, getting out of my chair. "Can't we go right now? Would it not be easier?"

"I'm not going with you," Kit said. "And you're only allowed one trip once you travel in time. I mean, where you land is where you land. It will not allow you to use portkeys, or Floo Powder, or any other magical means of travel. To the pebble, that's the easy way to get where you want. It does not allow that. The only way you could get to where he lives would be to travel like a muggle would, and you don't want to do that. It would be dangerous, and you might get seriously hurt. It would be so much easier for you to go back to your own time and travel to his place by Gold's Pebble then."

"But can't I take you with me when I do go back to my time?"

"Sam, I'm already dead by then. In 1939, I'm dead, so it would not work. It just wouldn't. But then…" Her eyes lit up, and she stopped in midair with her arm reaching out for the paper. "But then…we could try it. Maybe it would work. What's the worse that can happen? I mean, I can't die until my time comes. Yes, let's try. I'll go with you. Just maybe it will work." She said all this rather quickly. I realized that things were happening quite fast.

Kit went ahead and reached for the paper and wrote down the name of the wizard and where he lived. "Just in case," she told me. She gave me the paper and I looked at it before I tucked it into my robes.

Skettle Laghatnow

Location: Go to the Owl's Knothole , a restaurant on Elm Street. Go up to the second story.

He owns the restaurant. Elm Street is near Whipsnade. Just ask someone there, and you'll find it. Good luck.

"Thanks," I told her, patting my pocket.

She nodded. "Good luck, if I don't make it back to your time."

"But you will," I told her, in the most convincing voice possible.

She smiled. "I hope so." She took a look around her kitchen, told me to wait a minute, went down a hallway and returned carrying a flowery purse that looked quite stuffed.

"Let's go," she said. She picked the pebble from the table, and placed it in my hands. She gripped my elbow, and before I could tell her how much help she had been, the mist spilled out, and I was falling once again, Kit still tightly hanging on to my arm so she would not get lost during the journey.