Chapter 3: I Wanna Go Home

Defeated in his attempt to exit the tunnel, Neville worked his way back into the room. The lamp rekindled its flame as he stood up and stepped back away from the tunnel. He started looking all around the opening for something that might reopen the door, but he was having no luck.

Panicky feelings were starting to overtake his mind. He was trapped in a secret room. No one would know to look for him in here. He was not normally claustrophobic, but he was beginning to feel the room closing in on him.

As he walked back toward the table, another fresh cup of tea appeared. It was accompanied with a scone and a red jam that looked to be either raspberry or strawberry. The candy jar was now filled with what appeared to be Bertie Bott's Any Flavor Beans.

He picked up a bean and carefully tasted it. It turned out to be caramel corn flavor. The next one was roast beef, followed by chocolate cake and butterbeer. He was enjoying them immensely. Then he got an old diaper flavored one, and it was over.

The scone, which had a strong vanilla note to it, was delicious with what turned out to be cherry preserves on it. It was a perfect partner to the cup of Chinese green tea.

Neville picked up a bean and dropped it to the floor. He was startled by how loud it sounded as it bounced several times before coming to a stop in the otherwise silent room. The little mouse flashed out of its hiding place. It picked up the bean and gave it a nibble, then dropped it and began wiping its face with its paws.

"Must be another disgusting one," thought Neville as the mouse disappeared back into its hole.

"There must be some kind of way out of here," he thought. "Someone has been using this room for years, probably centuries. The whole place is designed for someone's personal use. I just need to look closer. I am missing something. There has to be a door out of here. Otherwise, they would be here, or (gulp) at least their skeleton."

He combed every inch of the room. He pushed and pulled things, looked for loose floorboards, poked around the mouse hole. It was all to no avail. Defeated once again, he sat back down on the chair and leaned back to rest his eyes for just a few seconds.

He woke with a start. "How long have I been sleeping," he wondered. Then he realized something had happened while he was asleep. There was a half-eaten piece of banoffee cake on the plate. The residual tea in the cup had cream in it. He had not put cream in his green tea. The ledger was rotated ninety degrees away from him. He noticed as he turned it back that it was turned to August 10th. The last entry, which looked like it had just been written, said Sanlúcar – 1519.

As much as he was upset about being trapped inside this strange room, he was now even more unnerved by the notion he was not alone in here. There seemed to be at least one more person, as yet unseen, in here. Who was it, and why couldn't he see them?

"Hello," said Neville, in a timid, tentative voice. "Is someone else here? I know you here. I see things that have been moved. Where are you?"

He looked concerned, hoping someone would appear. Nothing happened. "WHERE ARE YOU?" he yelled, desperation in his voice. "WHERE ARE YOU?" Again, nothing happened.

The weird clock caught his eye as he looked around the room for more evidence that someone had been here. The numbers had rotated ninety degrees so that the 42 that had been at the top was now in the three o'clock position. He walked over to take a closer look.

He looked at the slip of paper in the slot, remembering how the clock had acted the last time he touched it. With a quick pull, he removed the paper. It said Sanlúcar – 1519. He returned it to the slot just as the clock started to make noises, which caused him to jump back.

Walking away from the clock, he found the drawer for August 10th. He carefully pulled it open. The files should be chronological. He leafed back until he found the spot where Sanlúcar – 1519 should be located. It was not there. On one side was an account for a 1316 battle near a place in Ireland called Athenry. The Connacht forces, supported by Edward Bruce of Scotland were dealt a horrific defeat by the forces of the Lordship of Ireland and allies. Thousands died in a sunny field in County Galway, including two kings on the Connacht side, Fedlim Ó Conchobair and Tadhg Ó Cellaigh King of Uí Maine. Fedlim was only twenty-three at the time. It was noted how muggle commanders in the modern world sit back and watch their armies fight and die, while back in those days they would lead the charge.

Neville put the file back. In front of it was a short report on the Feast of St. Lawrence in Toledo. King Phillip II of Spain was planning the construction of a great palace in the mountains northwest of Madrid. He was going to call it El Escorial. It was going to become the grand home of Spanish kings.

Where was the report for Sanlúcar – 1519? This was a very curious place, indeed. It was going to take a lot more investigating to get to full understanding of this place.

Neville was suddenly hit with an urge to go to relieve himself. What could he do? There was no bathroom attached to this room. He couldn't get out. How did the other resident handle this situation? Then he noticed something under the table he had not seen prior to this moment.

It was a chamber pot. He was positive it was not there earlier. His investigation of the room had been too thorough to have missed it. "This room must provide you with whatever you need. Now, how do I convince it to give me a door back to the greenhouse?"

Neville was glad he knew how to use a chamber pot. His bedroom at his grandmother's was equipped with one, which he had used on a few occasions. He was glad to see a supply of paper in this one. His grandmother never furnished that necessity in the one at home.

He took it to the far corner in the back of the room and made use of it. He could not explain why he had felt the need to do that, but he did. When he was finished, he walked back toward the table. The partially eaten food and residual tea was gone. A sandwich with corned beef and cheese had appeared in its place on the plate. A little pot of mustard sat next to it. The cup was now filled with a strong, black tea.

Neville was amazed that he was not as ravenous as normal, that these little meals seemed to fill him quite well, and keep him from becoming hungry in-between. He wondered if the food was somehow enchanted to be able to sustain him, even though the quantity was small.

The corned beef was of the highest quality, as was the rye bread and cheese. The cheese seemed to be fine Swiss, which was an excellent compliment along with the piquant brown mustard. All in all, it was a perfect sandwich.

Neville finished the sandwich and stood up, sipping at his tea. A sandwich such as that required a strong tea. Whoever had designed the enchantments for the food and drinks was a real gourmet. As he turned around, he noticed the chamber pot was gone, adding to the magical mystic of the place.

He concentrated on his need for an exit door while walking around the room, but none appeared. He even checked the tunnel entrance while wishing for a way out. This seemingly simple request was apparently outside of the room's abilities to produce, or worse, desire to please its visitor.