"Dear Mother and Father..."
Major Charles Emerson Winchester the Third sat back in his chair, speaking slowly and eloquently into his brand new tape recorder, for only the latest and most fashionable technologies were worth the attentions of a Winchester. "I now begin my fourteenth recording since my forced stay in the deplorable Mobile Army Surgical Hospital number four-zero-seven-seven. As I have lamented many times over, the experience is worsened tenfold by the personnel of the 4077th, each of whom is despicable in his or her own way; officers behave like heathens, enlisted men like dogs..."
"WOOF WOOF!" Hawkeye and BJ promptly burst into a bout of furious barking and howling from across the tent where they were playing chess. Charles slammed the recorder down onto his desk and wheeled around, effortlessly striking what he expected was his best fear-inspiring stance, and fixed the two Captains with a look that was occasionally referred to as the patented 'Winchester Glare of Doom'. They put on their straightest faces as he narrowed his eyes threateningly, face reddening more with each passing second, and boomed dramatically, "You... cretins! That is the third time today that you have ruined my tape recording, and should you think to do it again, I will personally make both your lives a living hell! Is that clear?"
"Sorry, Charlie," BJ said, and took out Hawkeye's knight. "The war beat you to it."
Charles rolled his eyes and unhappily noted the onset of a throbbing headache. He turned his back on them and picked up the recording piece, flipped the switch, and started again. "Dear Mother and Father... WHAT IN THE HELL!" There was a terrible clatter. Winchester jumped back, and in one swift, ungraceful motion he overturned his chair and landed on the cot behind it with a crash. Hawkeye and BJ, without looking up, asked in unison, "Spider, Charles?" But the Major had been rendered absolutely speechless.
The two other men looked up and were similarly disabled.
With a sound like an enormous cork being pried from the neck of a bottle for which it is far too big, four children had appeared, from thin air, in the middle of their tent. The surgeons watched warily as the only female in their quaint little group, a girl with red hair and startlingly bright complementary green eyes, berated the three guys who were apparently not listening, but rather surveying their surroundings with extreme interest.
"James, I told you not to do it!" she huffed. "We're only third years, you blasted idiot! Apparating out of Hogsmeade... I never... why... we'll be expelled!"
The boy to whom she was speaking, a tall young man with untidy black hair and round spectacles, ignored her completely. Hawkeye, BJ, and Charles noted that he, like the others, was wearing a flowing black robe that carried a strange scarlet and gold crest on the left shoulder, and carrying a little wooden stick. Wait... wands?
What were they? Fairies?
One of the other boys walked up to Hawkeye and spoke with a recognizably British accent, like the girl. He looked exhausted - almost permanently so, if that was possible - and bore a series of silver scars along his face and hands. "Hello, my name's Remus Lupin. My friends and I seem to have made a slight... navigational error in our travels - would you care to give us our location and the year, please?"
Something sparked fiercely in Hawkeye's bright blue eyes, and he stood suddenly, looking down upon the boy. "Apparating as third years? What the hell's the matter with you? You could have all been splinched!"