Old Ground

Darren couldn't focus at work. He talked to his boss and booked off a fortnight. The boss was understanding – and secretly was glad as he planned to lay off staff in three months time, so any ammunition gained now would facilitate his dastardly schemes. Darren was just glad to get out of the planning office. His father's death had preyed on his mind and the papers and the paper scraps in his pocket were endlessly distracting.

Within two days, he had camped himself inside a local bed & breakfast and had brought his bags of tools. For the first time he was glad his fiancee had left him. She had gotten fed up waiting for him to set the date and had left with Darren's best friend. Still, he reflected, the freedom to do what he wanted was his again! His only responsibility, his cat Sparkle (another of her ideas), had been left with his grieving mother.

Now it was raining hard. His architect tools and measurements were in place as he paced out the area as shown on the map. Never much of a nature lover, Darren did note that this place was bereft of wildlife. He had made several wet trips from his van in the nearby layby out into this wet grassy set of hills. It was the sort of weather that gave England a bad name. Still, the numbing coldness seemed apt and refreshing for the serious task ahead.

"What the hell am I doing here?" he asked, stepping back from his surveyor's tripod and looking down into the small dip between the wet hills. All his measurements seemed to triangulate nothing remarkable. No tumulus, rock, gate, path or building. Nothing.

Darren took out a drink and had a swig. Standing there pondering, he noted a big bird in the distance, gliding down low over the hills. It was only when it came closer that he saw it had big eyes and resembled a white owl. "Well, that's pretty." He though and watched the owl as it flew through the dip in the hills. It dipped below the nearest hill and Darren was disappointed that it did not come out again. "Perhaps its got a nest there?" he asked. "Is that what you brought me out here for?" Darren laughed as the realisation he had been talking to his dad dawned on him.

Shrugging, he tramped down the field to the small hills. "Ok, perhaps Bill Oddie or the RSPB can give me something for this." Absent-mindedly he fished out his old camera and slipped his was down to the small clearing.

It was a very small clearing, aproximately twenty feet across, flanked on all sides by small low hills. And nothing else, "Not a dickie bird" as his dad would say. And indeed there were no birds here at all.

Darren reasoned that he had scared the thing off and turned to leave when suddenly another owl screeched past his ear. In sheer surprise Darren slipped and sat down hard as he tried to turn to see what the noise was. He ached as he sat there staring up at the small brown owl zig-zagging away from him. But what really amazed him was the dull green ring in mid-air, about ten feet from the ground. Through it he saw a small circle of blue sky before it vanished.

"Hogwarts?" he gasped.

He sat there for a full thirty minutes before he got up, marked out the exact spot the window appeared and ran back to his van.

To be continued…

Disclaimer:

Dave says:- Argh! Am trying to get back into writing – it's been 3-4 years! Be nice!

The characters and setting are all thanks to J. K. Rowling. I claim no ownership of these characters, just the scenario. Big hugs.