The shop was dark, with candles that burned and flickered as their wicks shriveled and curled.

Tonight marked the third time that the electricity had suddenly died out; most likely due to the raging storm that had been filling London's grey skies for the past week, uncaring and brutal to the city power cables. A flash of white lit up the corner of the store, contrasting with the warm glow of the dying flashlight that was balanced in a girl's hand. Her unevenly chewed fingernails tapped relentlessly on the wooden floor she was sitting on, matching the tune that had been stuck in her head for the past hour.

Lilian sat with her back pressed firmly to the cold wall, facing an old semi-glass door that looked out onto a drowned street. The books scattered around her were about a decade old, the spines misshapen from the amount of times they had been read cover to cover. The red-haired girl readjusted the grip on her flashlight and flipped another page from the book resting on her left knee.

'Back again, Peter?' She read softly, unable to help the way her voice boomed in the otherwise deserted bookstore, 'It does not do to dwell on dreams'.

Another flash of light thundered outside, closer than before and much more disturbing too. Tired eyes bounced up from the pages of the book, glossy and unfocused as she frowned and turned to look at her watch. She tapped on its face and watched as it lit up.

22:34

'Fuck,' She breathed out, 'I'm late'.

Lilian dragged herself up from the ground, picking up a backpack few feet away and threw her flashlight into it along with her book. It made a clunk as it hit the bottom, bouncing off of the thermos that practically lived at the bottom of the bag.

Blowing out the tealight candles didn't take long, and so Lilian found herself standing outside the shop door fairly quickly. The rain made it difficult to lock up; it was pelting down at odd angles and showering down from the roofs around her. The bite of the storm made her flinch as the wind made desperate grabs at her throat and any other bare flesh it could find. Pulling her hood further down over her head, she squared her shoulders and twisted the bronze key in the keyhole.

A satisfying click later had Lilian shoving her hands into her front pockets and turning on her heel to walk down the quickly darkening roads of London.

The street was empty, save for the cats that insisted on giving her a heart attack every time she turned a corner. The rumbling of thunder had her break into a light jog, focused on getting to her train on time. There were rows and rows of dark storefronts, lit poorly by candles that shed yellow light onto the pavement outside. It would have made a pretty picture, Lilian noted, especially with the way the sky seemed to crackle to life with every roar of lightning.

It was completely dark by the time she hustled into the tube station.

There was a stillness in the atmosphere that didn't leave even when she scanned her card. The sound of her shoes squeaking against the tiled floor was the only thing that broke the silence around her. The eerie feeling got worse as she made it to the platform.

Lilian was the only person here.

Licking her lips, she wrapped an arm around herself for comfort. A chill ran down her back as she felt her heartbeat beginning to pick up. She was about take a step back from the platform when the ding of her phone distracted her.

To: Lilian
From: Penny
Did you make it on time?

Lilian tapped her reply.

To: Penny
From: Lilian
Made it. Nobody's at the platform but me though. Did the storm close the tube?

She waited for a few moments before her phone screen lit up again with a response from her sister.

To: Lilian
From: Penny
I don't think so? I'll check.
Did you remember to pick up milk?

Lilian groaned as no, she hadn't.

To: Penny
From: Lilian
No, sorry. I can pick it up from the corner shop on my way from the station?

The sound of metal rattling and scraping against itself made her look up as the light from the train burst through the dark tunnel and thundered on passed her. Lilian waited for it to stop before pressing the button and getting on.

To: Lilian
From: Penny
Disappointed, but not surprised.

The red-haired girl looked around the compartment, shrinking into one of the seats near the door. There feeling of dread in her stomach was getting worse; there wasn't a single person in sight on the tube either.

To: Penny
From: Lilian
I'll even get the 2% you like, promise. On tube now, so should be home in about 20 minutes.

The sound of the tube doors closing and the sudden launch forward was enough for Lilian to ignore the buzz her phone was making in her pocket now. It was dark in the tunnel, and the lights from the roof of the were flickering somewhat. Lilian bit her lip and dug out her torchlight, rubbing the aluminium handle in-between her fingers as the tube began to slow and stopped at another platform.

Nobody got on.

A familiar song broke echoed through the compartment then, prompting the girl to fish out her phone as it shook itself. She tapped the green circle that flashed on the screen, the name and picture of her older sister taking up most of the smooth surface.

'Hello?'

'What do you mean that you're on the tube?' Penny's voice was choppy, buzzing at the start and end of her sentence.

'I mean that I'm on the tube? I'm almost off anyhow, next stop is Charing Cross.'

'But I - and the storm - shut!'

'Sorry, what? You cut out'.

'Wh - I can't - Lils, where are you!?'

There was a sudden lurch and a pop in the carriage then as it was plunged into darkness. The torchlight flew from her grasp from the force and clinked against the tube door. Springing forward and out of her chair, she stumbled as the floor beneath her began to sway left and right erratically.

Lilian couldn't see.

The buzzing from her phone went unheard as she scrambled to grab the torchlight, fingers barely making it around the grip before cowering back up to her feet. There were creaks from the outside of the carriage which sounded suspiciously like knocking.

She was in the middle of the tube carriage, furiously flicking the power button on the metal object. The somewhat comforting movement of going forward had stopped now, leaving her alone in the blackness that seemed to have shadows moving in it.

There was an audible fizzle and whine from the torchlight as it refused to work.

'No, no, no,' She hissed, banging it against the metal pole, 'Please turn on, please turn on'.

After the fifth ding of metal against metal, Lilian tossed it aside hurriedly, hands digging in her pockets to pull out her phone. It was frozen on Penny's caller ID, the picture of her older sister calming her slightly before her eyes focused on the service signal.

Nothing.

A creak from beside her made her freeze, a sweeping cold licking at her as she began to hear the ruffling of something and shuffle of shoes. It was muffled, almost like she was listening to her neighbours through their shared wall. Eyes wide, she frantically searched the darkness, trying to find anything. Her heart was in her throat now, pounding loud and fearfully as the thought of someone walking up the tube to kill her popped into her mind.

Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she felt blindly behind her for the pole that was now warmer than she was.

Whispers were making their way to her ears now, too soft to be recognisable yet too loud for her to be mistaken. It was a group of people, and they were getting louder and louder, drowning out the soft cry that escaped her. Fingers wrapped tightly around the metal pole, she tried to keep herself up.

Lilian was petrified.

She clenched her eyes shut, doing her best to try and calm the rising waves of terror within her. She had been afraid of the dark as a child, but after a particularly mean sleepover with her sister, the blackness of night hadn't seemed so bad.

However, right now she was stuck in the underground of London with no light, and no way to call for help.

Lilian could taste the bile at the back of her throat, burning into her tongue. There was static in the air now, prickling at her skin in a way that felt like sinking into water. It rushed over her - suffocating her - and it wasn't long before the girl felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Lilian didn't know when it had happened, in fact looking back on it she never would.

As if she had emerged from underwater, the noises exploded to life and swirled around her as a red tint soaked through her eyelids. The jostle of the tube was back and she was being shoved backwards as it moved. Snapping her eyes open, she expected to see the empty carriage again.

'Are you alright, love?'

A yelp tore from her as she spun around to face a man; tall and towering over her with a curious expression. He was dressed in a suit, brown and speckled in colour like his hair. A grey handkerchief peeked from his chest pocket as he leaned down to address her.

Lilian felt her mouth dry up as she glanced around, doing a full circle to look around the carriage. Stares were glued to her form, eyes wide with what she thought to be shock, and others in fear as their hosts angled themselves as far from her as they could.

There were people.

She watched with baited breath as shoes shuffled, and newspaper pages were turned. A numbing disbelief stretched over her, holding down the hysteria that was bubbling beneath her skin.

Her sight flickered back to the man currently staring at her like she was some form of wild bird. His hand was outstretched to take hers, almost like he was luring her into conversation with him. She probably would have taken his offer if she didn't catch the flash of a camera going off from next to him.

Recoiling, she took a step back.

'Don't mind him, we just want a quick word,' He tried to say, eating up the distance she had put between them, 'That was quite the magic trick you pulled just there - You a magician, or something?'

'What?' Lilian could feel the tube door button pressing into her back as she held her hands up in an effort for some more space. Her voice was watery, coming out strained and vulnerable. The man in front of her cocked his head at her expression.

'Hey, it was just a question. You sure you're alright?'

The tube came to a stop then and without thinking she spun and violently slammed her palm on the button, running onto the station platform. She pushed through the throngs of people that were itching to get on the carriage. She could hear the man shout again, something about a drink, before she broke into a sprint up the stairs. Nobody seemed too bothered by her haste, all moving subtly out of her way in the typical British manner.

Lilian burst out of the station, greeted by a still and rather chilly night air that had never felt better. The people bustling behind her funnelled to her left and right, tutting at the girl that was nothing more than an obstacle for them to avoid. Finding it within herself to flush, Lilian took a few shaky steps so that she was standing at the odd-looking traffic light further along the street.

The red-haired girl looked up at the sky, the light of the moon shining brilliant and bright down onto the world.

A group of women passed her then, all gangly and giggly in their flared trousers and bright colours. Mouth dropping open briefly, she eyed them as they went down into the underground. She watched the other people swirling around her, their clothes looked like they were straight out of a history book. A giggle broke through her, short-lived and definitely too high in pitch to be authentic.

'Oye! You!'

A look over her shoulder showed the man from the tube making his way towards her, pushing through the stream of people that were rushing into the station. The punch of adrenaline to her system gave her the energy to turn on her hell and run.

His voice could still be made out as she rounded a corner, dipping down a familiar yet foreign street. Light posts dotted the sides of the road, all illuminated except for a cluster that was just a bit further up ahead. The man was still following her; at his side was a much shorter and chubbier looking one that was holding up a polaroid camera.

Lilian needed to call for help, somewhere with a lot of people so that the men couldn't just grab her and run. Her breathing was uneven now, heartbeat erratic as she scanned the building to her left on the off-chance there was a late-night pub she could run into.

'We don't want to hurt you, we just want to -'

'Go away!'

Lilian was still running, ignoring the shouts that came from behind her. Her eyes were on their second scan when the broken light posts suddenly turned on, casting a warm glow on the entrance to what she could only guess was a pub. Its sign waved at her, caught in the gentle breeze.

She didn't bother to read it, skidding to a stop on the pavement as her knees and hands took a blunt onslaught of cement before she pushed herself up and grabbed onto the door handle. It didn't take much to force it open, in fact it seemed like it swung open for her of its own free will.

The chatter from inside was shushed as she slammed the door, her back to it as she sunk down onto the warm wooden floorboards. Lilian knew the people inside were staring, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. There was a deathly silence and she supposed it was justified. The pain was enough indication that she had definitely bled through her jeans. There was even a handprint on the door.

Lilian looked up from her position on the ground, locking eyes with the owner who she would later know to be a man called Tom, "Can I have a table for one, please?"

It had taken three cups of tea and an impossible long trip to the bathroom to clean herself up before Lilian felt like asking questions.

The overall atmosphere and aesthetic of the bar was definitely familiar, comforting in the strangest way with the plumes of smoke that would swirl from a stranger's lips before floating up to the wooden ceiling. Her hands were rubbing comforting circles on her thighs, Lilian smiled shyly at Tom who had come to bring another fresh pot of warm water. There was a selection of tea bags on the table he had ushered her to after her abrupt entrance, a quick method of getting her out of the paying customers' earshot.

'And you say these men were following you?' Tom asked, a frown marring his face as he eyed the shaken girl.

'Well,' She started, unsure if he'd believe her, 'They were running after me. The shorter guy was taking pictures of me. I just - I didn't...'

Sighing with understanding, he went to readjust a strap on his apron, 'It's a good thing you did. Girls have been going missing these past few weeks - moreso than the regular, anyhow'.

Lilian's eyes widened, she hadn't heard anything about that.

'I don't blame you for not knowing, it's not something people from around here like to tell passerbyers'.

'But I'm from here,' Lilian simpered, a tepid smile gracing her lips that pressed to the rim of her mug for a sip.

A pleasantly surprised face was her response as Tom then shifted his attention to the table, taking a cloth out from thin air to wipe down some of the wet spots. The girl paused her thoughts to watch as another towel was plucked from the seemingly nowhere by the older man.

'Nice magic trick'.

'Only the best,' He winked, brushing off her compliment as he got to drying a section of the wood that was miraculously warped from the amount of sticky drinks that had been spilt on it over time.

There was a spark of energy in the air here, she mused, it was warm and alive as the chattering of customers filled the atmosphere once more. Lilian couldn't help but stare at the clothes and wonder if the long robes were a trademark fad for the end of summer. She never did understand fashion. They were definitely ugly, she thought as she eyed a particularly dowdy orange one a lady was wearing as she swept herself to the bar for another drink.

'I'd suppose you would go to Hogwarts then, yeah?'

Lilian snorted, reaching out for her tea cup that had been mysteriously re-filled, 'Uh sure, what self-respecting witch wouldn't?'.

The sarcasm lacing her words didn't seem to have much of an effect on the bartender who continued to wipe away at some invisible spill.

'I was a Hufflepuff myself,' Tom leaned on his one arm that was pressed to the table, 'Would've made Prefect if I had done better at Charms'.

The amusement on the girl's face brightened at that, going for another sip of milky tea from her cup. She watched as the man suddenly got up and hurried off, coming back a minute later with a folded newspaper wedged in the crook of his elbow.

'I assume you haven't heard about Professor Maridweather now, being out and about during the school term and whatnot,' Tom opened the paper to the right page before sliding it across the table for Lilian to read. Lilian made it to the title before her mind lagged, eyes caught and locked on the moving picture that had a man with a pointed hat waving, speaking to someone as cameras flashed in from of him.

'Resigned after falling down the Grand Staircase. I mean, how did he even manage it? One or two I can understand, but seven floors? Back in my day, we were lucky to see even three flights of stairs connected'.

The tea in her mouth had frozen along with her ability to function. Tom was too stuck in his own musings, recounting his days at Hogwarts, to notice the girl that had turned a sickly green shade. Placing her teacup on the saucer shakily, Lilian slid her hand beneath the newspaper bundle and drew it closer. She flipped it closed and saw the title; The Daily Prophet.

'Oh my god'.

'Yeah, I know,' Tom nodded, 'Unbelievably bad luck'.

Lilian nodded emphatically, not really paying attention as a thrum of anxiety came to life inside of her. She began riffling through the newspaper then, effectively putting a stop to the conversation. Tom had noticed the sudden stifle from her end and simply given a smile before moving to take the order of an orange-cloaked lady, loudly asking from a shot of whiskey. Fingers flying and running over the moving pictures, she scanned the titles as well as dates and could have screamed.

'August 26th, 1975,' She breathed, a manic laugh escaping her, 'No way. No fucking way.'

Lilian could feel herself starting to panic, her mind already beginning to race through possible scenarios and theories on what was happening. It wasn't likely that she had passed out in the tube, that much could be ruled out from the pain still radiating from her scraped up kneecaps. Was this someone's sick idea of a joke?

She dug a hand into her pocket, pulling out her phone and pressed the home button. There was an unread message in her inbox from almost an hour ago. Her shaking hands made it difficult to tap into the app.

To: Lilian
From: Penny
Just checked the news. All public transport is closed because of the storm, maybe go back to the shop and I can ask dad to go pick you up. What do you mean you're on the tube?

Biting down on her lip, she ran her twitching fingers through her hair and tugged hard. Looking up, Lilian was just able to spot the woman being served brandish a long, wooden stick and wave it. A hat from across the room came zooming to her, floating seemingly in mid-air as it twired before settling itself on her head.

'I think I'm gonna be sick'.