The broom was sweeping on its own. Sweeping. On its own. As in, no one was holding it. The broom was sweeping on its own in a pub called The Three Broomsticks.

"Shit, Val," I breathed. "Shit, shit, shit."

My heart was pounding, and my stomach twisted. My hands felt sweaty. Anxiety's a bitch, but at least I was used to it. I pulled my dog around the side of the building and leaned against the wall on the other side of a stack of wood, trying to do my deep breaths. They weren't working, probably because it was hard to breathe deeply when I felt like I wanted to cry.

This wasn't real. I had been telling myself it was ever since my breakdown by the stone wall, mostly just to keep myself going, but the lie felt even more hollow now. I didn't want to be dead. I didn't want Val to be dead. But what other explanation was there? Hell, maybe I was still drowning and this was just one last, weird fantasy my brain tried to kick up so I wouldn't suffer.

I wanted this to be real, to have just randomly teleported across the world with no explanation and I could find my way home in a week or two. I could have dealt with that. But this? Magic isn't real. Even though I spent most of my time in fantasy worlds, I knew that. I wanted it to be real, of course I did. That was one of the reasons I liked writing so much; I could make whole worlds where magic was real, where everything happened for a reason, where everything made sense, even if it involved dragons or aliens or werewolves.

But it wasn't. And seeing it in front of me made me realize that whatever I was experiencing, it wasn't real either. Which meant that when I woke up from this – if I woke up from this – I would have to deal with the aftermath of The Lake, and whatever that would entail. If this wasn't real, Val would still be hooked to that damn sled, and she'd be under the water and the ice and not breathing –

"Fuck."

I felt a warm tongue on my face and realized I had slid down the wall so I was crouched behind the wood. Val licked me again, and instead of pushing her away, I hugged her to me. Then I cried.

I hated crying. It was embarrassing, just like asking for help was. I didn't like feeling weak, but thinking of my dogs dying cut deeper than almost anything else. And even worse, it was my fault. I shouldn't have taken her out alone. I knew she wasn't ready for it. I should have turned back after the first two miles. I should have stopped while it was still going well. I should have known better than to keep telling myself just one more mile, just one more.

"Pardon me, miss, but are you okay?"

I looked up at the voice at the same time Val looked around and started barking. I grabbed her by the muzzle and hissed at her to be quiet, then awkwardly struggled to my feet, using Val's back to leverage myself up. She was still grumbling at the woman, and I smoothed her hackles down automatically as I gazed at the person in front of me through teary eyes. She was wearing an old-timey dress and had light brown hair drawn back with a ribbon. She looked like she was in her mid-forties, and was a bit plump.

"M-Madam Rosmerta?"

It was the first thing that came to mind, given the Three Broomsticks sign and the fact that my brain had apparently decided that my dying wish was to see the Harry Potter world up close and personal.

She laughed, though not unkindly. "No, dear. I'm Sue. Sue Sutherton."

"Oh." The unfamiliar name seemed to derail my brain, because I literally could not think of anything else to say. She must have thought I was crazy. Heck, maybe I was crazy. Maybe that broom I'd seen had been animatronic or… something. I should have thought of that before my breakdown. In my defense, it had been a terrible day.

"Rosmerta's inside. Would you like me to fetch her for you?"

I just stared at her.

"It's just, I saw your face while you were standing in the doorway, and you looked so frightened. I wondered if maybe you saw someone you're trying to avoid. If… well, do you need me to call the aurors for you? I hope I'm not intruding, but Rosmerta likes us to keep an eye out for witches that are in trouble. We don't see much of that at the Three Broomsticks, of course, but we've helped a few people avoid men they'd rather not see. There's a floo in the kitchen, I could take you around back…" She trailed off, sighing. "I'm babbling, aren't I? The gist of it is, if you need anything, we can help you. So long as you aren't on the run from the law or something."

Maybe the broom was animatronic, and these people were really dedicated to playing their role. I'd heard of a place like that in another state, where they set up this whole medieval town and everyone who came in had to wear period-specific clothes and stay in character.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?"

I realized I'd been staring at her silently, but I still couldn't think of what to say. This was what I'd wanted, though, wasn't it? To find a town and figure out where I was and where to go next. This woman seemed nice, at least, and she was offering help. But how should I spin it? Throwing caution to the wind would be dumb, so even if part of my brain was having a melt-down, I'd better stick to my whole act-like-this-is-real thing for now. That still left me with two options; this was either a real Harry Potter themed amusement park, or this was the real wizarding world. Either way, staying in character, as it were, and pretending this was really the wizarding world would probably be the best course of action. Worst case scenario, they'd just think I was really dedicated to roleplay.

"I could… use help," I admitted at last.

"Oh, American, are you? You poor thing, no wonder you look so lost. Were you travelling with someone?"

I shook my head and chose my words carefully. I'd been super into Harry Potter roleplay when I was about fourteen, so if I could just bring that mindset back now… I really wish I'd used my time walking through the forest to come up with a good story instead of cursing Val and all of the squirrels.

"I was attacked," I said. I could sense the beginnings of a plausible tale. "My dog saved me. I got lucky, but they took my wand. I panicked and apparated, but I don't know where to. I can't usually apparate without my wand, and I don't have any money…"

I trailed off, trying to look pitiful instead of terrified and on the verge of going completely insane. Of course, if this really was a theme park, I'd probably sound insane, but whatever. Lesser of two evils and all of that.

"Why don't you come inside? I'll get you a drink and something to eat on the house, and we can put a floo call in to the aurors."

Shit, shit, aurors. "Do we have to do it right away? I'm exhausted and I really didn't see much of the person who attacked me. I don't want to have to talk about it right now, not so soon after it happened."

"You can take as much time as you need, dear." She patted me on the arm and gestured toward the front of the building. I began following her, then hesitated.

"Um, can my dog come in?"

"Of course." She smiled. "Things must really be different in the states."

"Yeah. You have no idea."

The inside of The Three Broomsticks was rustic, for lack of a better word. I'd never really been to a normal pub, let alone one in England, and definitely not one in the wizarding world, so I didn't have much to compare it to. The floor was wood and worn, and the only light came from windows and torches in wall brackets. The tables all had candles or lanterns, but they were unlit. There was a dark fireplace against one wall, and the broom was still sweeping by itself, though it had moved away from the door. I didn't see any real sign of magic, and the people all looked relatively normal, though they were all wearing cloaks, robes, and dresses. Val was very interested in the stew the people nearest the door were eating, and I kept a firm grip on her collar.

Sue deposited me at a table near the bar and disappeared into the back. I convinced Val to lie down half under the table and stuck my foot through her harness so she couldn't get up. Or at least if she did, she'd take me with her. My coat, which I had taken off a while ago, I draped over the back of another chair. My phone was in its pocket. It had no service, and I didn't want to fiddle with it in here.

"Here you go, dear."

Sue had reappeared, though the suddenness was probably more to my degrading state of mind than any magic, and deposited a pint of something foamy in front of me, followed closely by a sandwich.

"Butterbeer and roastbeef. Do you have butterbeer in the states?"

"Um, I've heard of it, but I've never had any." Technically the truth. It was the safest form of lying.

"Well, you're in for a treat. Can I get you anything else?"

"Could I have some water for my dog?"

I felt bad asking for it; even having Val in the pub felt strange to me. Back home, only service dogs were allowed in restaurants, and they certainly didn't get to eat or drink while inside. But Val had just pulled me on a sled for two miles, and then had hiked with me to town in weather that was suddenly fifty degrees hotter than what we were used to.

"Of course. I'll be right back."

Sure enough, she returned soon with a bowl of water, which she placed in front of Val. My dog happily drank, and I took a sip of the butterbeer. It was… good. Room temperature, which was weird, but I guess I was supposed to be in the UK and ice cubes weren't as popular there, for some reason. It was less cloyingly sweet than I'd expected, but still heavier than a soda.

"I've spoken to Rosmerta," Sue said, taking a seat across from me. "We can put you up in one of the rooms tonight – free of charge, of course – and in the morning one of us will sit with you while you talk to the aurors."

I fiddled with my sandwich, suddenly feeling bad. She was being so nice. I wasn't used to it. Not that I was surrounded by terrible people at home or anything, but if some damp, crying girl and a dog showed up outside a bar at home, the staff would probably call the police right away. Maybe after letting her inside, if it wasn't in the shady part of town.

"Thanks," I said, blinking away the feeling that I was going to start crying again. I wasn't usually this tearful. "That's really… just, thanks."

She smiled at me. "Everything will be okay. You just eat up, then I'll show you to your room. You can take a shower, get cleaned up, have a rest, and the world will look like a much brighter place tomorrow." A small group came in through the front door and she got up from her seat, then paused. "Oh, I almost forgot. Can I have your name?"

"Lorelei," I said. "Lorelei Smith." I reached down to pat Val, who had finished with the water and was snuffling around for crumbs. "And this is Valkyrie."