Author's Note

What's new pussycat?

Tom Jones. Nice. Bringing a little classic culture into the mix.

We hope you're enjoying the story so far.

And if not, well, tough tits really.

Ah, passive aggressive-ism. Great way to bring in views my man.

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Anyway, onwards good brothers! To the chapter.

Chapter Three: The Part Where We Descended from Hippies

As it turns out, falling through a vortex of time and space can knock you out better than three mugs of lemsip*. It wasn't until early afternoon that the girls awoke, and even then, it was unwillingly. They were jolted from their slumber by the most devious and dastardly of parties: the English summer sun. A myth to some, this devilish entity, weak as a poorly brewed pot of tea, was brighter than it had any business being. It crept through the gaps in the blinds, spilling eagerly onto their faces like… well, insert your own simile.

The girls were both still achy from their impromptu dalliance with the cobblestones the night before, although Addy was undoubtedly doing better than her counterpart, limbs sore but functional. Ella's shoulder was much better than it had been but was continuing to cause her grief. She could still feel the shock of the injury in her nerves and knew that it would be a couple of days until the sensation passed.

'Crikey, it feels like I've downed a bottle of Ogden's finest,' Addy complained, legs buckling as she tried to get out of bed. She tried once more:

'Oof.'

Addy then dropped back on the mattress and decided to lay back down. It must be a sign, she thought.

'-and done a couple of rounds in the ring with a Norwegian Ridgeback,' Ella groaned in agreement, pulling the covers over her head. Her eye twitched irritably at the morning sun. She'd never been much of a summer fan. For her, the season was quite obnoxious; the spoiled favourite child. Ella preferred the subtle chill of winter, with its gothic minimalism and morning frosts never failing to make her reach for her sketchbook.

They lay there for a minute or two in silence, neither one of them wanting to move.

'I suppose this is still happening then.' Addy said after a while, staring up at the ceiling. It was pretty unremarkable all things considered, coated in a thick layer of white matte. Not especially magic at all.

'Yeah,' Ella replied, voice muffled through the fabric. 'I guess so.'

She poked her head out from the duvet, thinking back to the last couple of hours. It was, undoubtedly the craziest thing that had ever happened to her. Including Addy's seventeenth birthday party, which involved a forest, some firelighters and eighteen tubes of Pringles.** (Of assorted flavours.)

'We're sticking with our story then,' she added. 'About the attack.'

'It's the most reasonable explanation. You know what they said in Prisoner of Azkaban. "Awful things happen to wizards who meddle with time". What about muggles who mess with time, space, the ability to do magic… Because I don't know about you pal, but I've never encountered a mystical ice-cream shop before.' Addy said.

'You've also never encountered a duck-billed platypus before. Doesn't mean they weren't there.'

'Well, if any creature's going to be a myth. It'd be that one.'

'You know what I mean though,' Ella affirmed, pushing off her covers with renewed purpose. 'We definitely need to invest some time looking into what happened last night, and how it happened.' She stretched, groaning a little at her aching shoulder, before continuing. 'It can't be some mad coincidence that we're here. We've sat in your living-room countless times, wasting our lives away in front of that TV-'

'-ah, you've been spending time with my Grandma, I see.'

'-and nothing of the sort has ever happened before. Not even a hint of magic; other than scoring those two for one tickets we got for that rescreening of Deathly Hallows Part 2 at the Kinema.*** Crap!'

She turned to Addy, eyes wide and looking like her cat had just been run over. (Her cat had in fact, been run over many times. He was not the sharpest of kitties. Nine lives, baby.)

'We're going to miss it now!'

'Well, I mean. Technically we haven't missed it yet. We're actually forty years or so early.'

'WAIT!' Ella sat up in a violent, jerky movement, having clearly forgotten about her still aching shoulder and wincing as she clutched at it with her hand.

'What?' Addy looked around, panicked, half expecting to see Voldemort standing in the doorway with a cup of tea in one hand and a croissant in the other. (Is Voldemort a pastry guy? Hm. He always seemed more of a full English kind of bloke. Or a feast on the flesh of your dead enemies, drink their blood out of skulls man. Y'know, your everyday Joe.)

'Addy' Ella's hushed whisper wouldn't have been out of place at a funeral, voice dripping with emotion. '...The books haven't been written yet!'

'Bloody tits,' Addy gasped, looking momentarily distraught before a sneaky look found its way onto her face. 'So, what you're saying is, there's a gap in the market for wizard-based antics...'

Ella's gaze became fondly stern. 'You are not plagiarising Harry Potter and passing them off as your own. We have talked about this!'

'Pfft. Stick in the mud.' Addy coughed.

'But in all seriousness, this is going to make it much harder to pass ourselves off here. Without the books for reference…' Addy could see the cogs whirring in Ella's mind as she tried to work her way around this new and rather monumental obstacle in their path.

The two girls paused, looking round the room as if hoping something might jump out at them and help solve their dilemma. Preferably a copy of all seven books (or, alternatively, another vortex back home). Unsurprisingly, the room yielded little beyond its pale yellow walls that were glowing faintly in the warm sunlight. The decor was slightly dated, the kind of heavy wooden furniture that your grandparents refused to replace because it was 'sturdy' and that pretentious hipsters forked out far too much money for because it maintained their 'vintage' aesthetic. Ella's eyes zeroed in on what looked suspiciously like a woollen Hufflepuff scarf draped carefully over the wardrobe door, as if it had been placed there only the night before, ready to be plucked and worn to a Hogwarts quidditch game. She wasn't sure why, but a sharp pang of sadness pierced through her thoughts. The room was full, knick-knacks dotted along shelves, a shaggy black rug covering the floor. Yet it felt empty, even with her and Addy's residence there. Something vital was missing; something important and loved. Ella noted for the first time the thick layer of dust over everything that had Addy's nose twitching irritably; this room clearly hadn't been used in a while.

'Hm. We need to work out some sort of plan' she continued, eyes still drawn to the scarf. 'This, well. It's all new to us, and we can't afford slip ups.'

'I can guarantee you now, we will slip up, at any given moment.'

'Well, we need to play it off with style then; act like this is all normal to us. After all, we've never experienced magic, not even a decent card trick.' She shook her head a little before turning to her friend. 'I remember the summer you tried to learn sleight of hand, you were flipping pants at it.'

'Hey, you said I was getting pretty good!' Addy cried indignantly, oblivious to her friend's conflicting emotions, and sitting up on the bed with outrage.

'I was lying to spare your feelings.' Ella deadpanned. 'We hadn't known each other that long. Your Cher impression is also terrible.'

Addy gasped. 'You take that back!'

Ella smiled cheekily. 'Only if you take back all of the hours that I lost listening to you butcher Believe.'

Before Addy could reply with something suitably dramatic, the girls heard a faint knock on the door. It opened, revealing Florean still dressed to the nines in his red and white apron. His hair was haphazardly ruffled, but his face was calm. He was holding a stack of freshly washed and pressed clothes, warm caramel eyes glancing tentatively at the girls, before he realised that they were awake and smiled.

'Thought I'd lend these to ya,' he said, accent a curious combination of a young baritone and an old Yorkshire farmer. Addy noted that he wouldn't be out of place among the boys in Emmerdale. 'They were my mother's, but she wasn't too tall, so they should fit you alright.'

Ella nodded appreciatively, completely at peace with the fact that the growth spurt her own mother had been promising her since she was twelve was a lost cause. Addy, on the other hand, clutched her hand to her chest.

'Excuse you, but five foot six is the average height for a woman in the UK.' Or at least it will be, in forty years, she thought to herself.

'I meant no offence,' he smiled good-naturedly. 'What do you think that you girls'll be doing today?'

The pair looked at each other.

'If I'm honest Florean,' Addy began 'we have no bloody clue. We're a bit up creek without a paddle here, you see.'

Ella nodded, fiddling with the blue cotton duvet. 'We have no clothes, no money. No possessions besides the leopard-print blanket cape that Addy managed to keep hold of. Which, in all its magnificence, isn't actually worth that much.'

They turned to the item in question, which was crumpled up next to Addy in some semblance of a fold. They could probably flog that for a fiver if they gave it a good iron.

'I guess I could sell my earrings,' Addy said. 'They'd be worth a few bob, they're silver.'

'Hm. Possibly,' Ella agreed distractedly, 'or…' she tried to think of something that she, herself, could peddle. Her slippers were worthless, and she'd been wearing her quidditch jersey to bed for so long it looked more like a potato sack than anything else. Her eyes caught a glance of the chain she wore around her neck, one that she never took off. Dangling off the end was a very old and very battered gold ring, the setting hammered around a deep green stone. The stone itself probably wasn't all that valuable, plucked from a beach by her grandfather, but the gold might get them a few galleons. 'I could…'

'No man, that's a last resort.' Addy told her. 'Earrings and blanket-cape first. Items of sentimental value a very, very distant second.'

Florean had been surveying the girls, and at this he cleared his throat.

'Girls.' The look he gave them was almost stern. 'Did you really think I would send you on your way with nowt but a fresh pair of clothes and that leopard-print...whatever?'

'Honestly Florean, we wouldn't blame you,' Addy said. 'You've already been incredibly kind to us. We could have been any old schmos. Actually, you should probably have a higher regard for your own personal wellbeing. We could have shanked you in your sleep.'

'But obviously we didn't' Ella quickly interjected, throwing Addy an exasperated look 'Because we are nice people, and nice people don't shank others in their sleep.'

'You know what, you're a bloody flag-pole in the great dirty earth.' Addy remarked.

Florean cleared his throat yet again, louder this time, and the two girls looked back at him sheepishly. 'As I was trying to say, I'm not turning you girls out with nothing and no-one to help. It wouldn't be right. My Ma' would have never let me hear the end of it.'

'Well, thank your Ma' from us.' said Addy, smiling.

Ella was looking at Florean hopefully, 'But you don't even know us.'

Florean turned to Ella with a soft smile. 'No, but I pride myself on having a good sense about people, and you two don't strike me as liars' Ella felt a stab of guilt at this. 'Or crazed lunatics plannin' to shank me in my sleep' at this he gave Addy a slightly wary look, not entirely unwarranted. 'Now, I don't know what you girls have gotten yourselves into, but you can stay a couple of days here while you get on your feet. No funny business, mind'. I know what you teens get up to these days, with all your-' he caught himself. 'Merlin, I'm starting to sound like my father.'

He shook himself off quickly. 'Well I'll leave you to get sorted. Bathroom is just downstairs and to the right, there's fresh towels and everything in the airing cupboard. Come find me down in the shop when you're done and we'll sort out what we're doing next.'

Twenty minutes later the two girls walked into Florean's parlour, hair wet and smelling vaguely of coconut shampoo. Ella swatted at Addy who was attempting, for the third time since she'd exited the shower, to feed herself her own hair.

'Addy, stop it!'

'But it smells so delicious!' Addy replied. 'I'm not convinced he isn't using his stock for toiletries as well.'

'Hello girls,' Florean greeted them cheerfully, turning away from 'his conversation with a young sandy haired witch who looked most put out at the interruption. 'Feeling better?'

'Much. You've got magic pipes Florean.'

'Not a euphemism.' Addy said, winking at the witch who was sat, huffing irritably.

'Glad to hear it,' he replied. 'Now, It's a busy day today. We always get the rush around lunchtime and I'm not going to be able to step away from the shop until close, otherwise I'd take you round Diagon Alley myself to get you some bits and bobs.'

'Florean, really it's fine -' Ella began, before Florean held up a hand to quiet her.

'No, no. I said I was going to help, and I meant it. If you girls don't mind goin' round by yourself, I need you to get a couple of bits for me as well while you're there.'

At this he reached into his pocket, drawing out a handful of heavy-looking silver and gold coins which he held out to them.

'You'll be needing to visit Madam Malkins, she'll get you some clothes. If you could pick up my robes while you're there, that'd be handy. I also need you to go to Slug and Jiggers, that's the apothecary. I'm out of selkie scales, but don't worry. He knows my order.'

Florean suddenly looked as if he had remembered something important and gave them both an appraising stare. 'I haven' seen you girls carrying around your wands?'

Ella felt herself freeze at that. Wands. She knew they had forgotten something. Of course he would be wondering where their wands were; two young women, turning up in Diagon Alley and knowing exactly where they were. Of course he would assume they were witches, that they had magic.

'Our parents didn't believe in wands...' Addy said, immediately regretting her words as Florean's eyebrows rose so high they all but disappeared into his hairline. 'They uh, they were pretty new age.'

'What she means,' Ella followed with a pointed look at Addy who ducked her head sheepishly, 'Is that our parents didn't believe in carrying around our wands whilst we were still underage. Especially with this one,' she jerked her head at Addy. 'The temptation would kill her.'

'Yeah, we were home-schooled you see. We, well. We didn't get out much. Didn't learn that much either to be honest. They were pretty shoddy teachers. I got more about magic from this book series we read than my family. I mean. Our family.'

'How exactly are you girls related?' Florean asked, eyes jumping from Ella's wild blonde curls to Addy's thick, slightly auburn-tinted hair.

The pair looked at each other.

'Cousins.' Addy uttered, at the exact same time as Ella went 'sisters.'

He looked at them sceptically.

'Well, we're cousins, but we're close enough to be sisters.' Addy rushed out, clearly trying to make up for the wand mishap earlier. 'Our parents were really close, so we were around each other a lot growing up'.

'Right.' Ella wasn't sure if Florean entirely believed their poorly constructed excuses, and when he began to move away from them a feeling of dread settled in her stomach. This was it, they'd barely made it a day in the wizarding world and they'd been found out. Florean was clearly off to alert the Ministry about two dangerous (well, incompetent and possibly unhinged) individuals who had stolen into his shop and charmed him (well, guilted him) into giving them free ice-cream and a place to sleep.

Not a moment later, however, Florean returned with another handful of galleons. 'Look, get yourselves a wand each while you're out. This is not the climate to be roaming around unarmed, which, from the state of yourselves last night, you know all too well. Go get lunch while you're at it. The Leaky Cauldron is good for a hearty meal. Tell Tom I sent you, he'll knock a bit off the price.'

With that, the bell on the shop door chimed and a gaggle of excited ten-year-olds came barrelling towards the counter, with their harassed-looking parents trailing after them, arms piled high with colourful purchases. The girls waved a quick goodbye to Florean and rushed out, shouting their thanks for the money as they went.

'God we are in way over our heads' Ella gulped when they were a safe distance away.

'Tell me about it.' Addy agreed, looking back at the shop. She could see Florean in there, serving several customers at once, cheery smile on his face all the while. 'What a nice man.'

Ella turned to her suddenly and whacked her round the head.

'Ouch! Dude what was that for?!'

'Our parents didn't believe in wands?!'

'Ah, yeah, fair. Not my best.' Addy nodded in agreement. 'You know I can only lie to authority figures. Florean's too much of marshmallow. I just want to squeeze him.'

'Do you think he has marshmallow ice-cream?' Ella asked, somewhat distracted as she gazed back over her shoulder.

'Well, I mean. The man has spinach and walnut flavoured ice-cream, it's safe to assume he probably stocks marshmallow as well.'

'True, true.' Ella agreed, before fumbling around in her pockets for the list Florean gave them. 'Right, Madam Malkins first. Then I say we stop and have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron- ooh, we could try butterbeer!'

'Yes, finally a beverage that tastes like a Werther's Original.****'

Addy looked round at the street. Unlike this morning when it had been just them, tired and bleeding, Diagon Alley was now full, rich and bustling with people. She spotted the joke shop Gambol and Japes immediately, with a huge sign stating: 'ON OFFER: DUNGBOMBS, 3 FOR A SICKLE', with a miniature chalk-drawn grenade that exploded into different colours every twenty seconds or so. Standing proudly opposite it, on the North side of Diagon Alley, was Quality Quidditch Supplies. The building was huge, with extravagant glass windows framed with Gryffindor red window-sills. It had a display that boasted the all new Nimbus 1000, the fastest broom on the market.

The two were pointedly ignoring the whole wand issue, not even daring to glance down the other end of the street where they knew from last night they would find the somewhat subdued display of Ollivanders, as if through one look alone the entire wizarding world would know that they were frauds.

'Don't suppose you fancy splitting the cash and getting a racing broom, do you?' Addy asked, only half-joking as she tried to alleviate some of the mounting tension.

'I think we're going to need more than a quick broom to get out of this one' Ella quipped back with a nervous smile, and the two headed off down the alley.

*Lemsip is this fairly gross hot drink/cough syrup thing you take when you've got a sore throat or a cold or what have you. My dad loves the stuff.

**Again, we swear we don't have a sponsorship. I just have a problem.

*** The Kinema – or to give it is full name, the Kinema in the Woods (go on, guess where it is. I dare you) - is this amazing 1920s style cinema in Woodhall Spa, England, which has remained open since 1922. Every showing has an intermission with a funky piano playing by itself or a very talented man with an organ (not a euphemism) depending on which screen you're in. For Doctor Who fans, they also have a Dalek in the corner. Just creepin'.

**** Werther's Originals are bloody brilliant. They're a German hard butter sweet that every Grandmother (and I) keep a collection of. Hit me up with a Werther's any day of the week.