Settling down between Figment's claws, I wait for Youtube to come back out of the wavy door. The wavy door, I've decided, is not part of the game, not naturally at any rate. The door is one of those barrel-shaped ones, one with a flat bottom but no real corners. Like a sideways D.

The door fizzles in and out of focus like some sort of migraine vision. When Youtube first spotted it and got me to land, she told me to stay out here. "Ifs my dad's ams there, I don't vant yous in theres, okey?" she told me. Her Swiss accent is weird as hell, especially since I didn't expect it. She types so fluently that I didn't really think it'd be there. And yet, there it is.

Why is there a door here.

"To be perfectly honest, none of the bits of the game makes sense!" I tell Figment. Figment bops me on the head with her nose. I give her a scratch. "Youtube has a boy's title. Like, Sylphs can only be girls, right? And Bard is a men's title, right?" I ask Figment. I think Sylph is a Homestuck title. I'm not sure. Sylph might be what Ficwad is. Figment worms her tongue out and gives me a slobbery dragon kiss. She is not listening to me. "I just feel I am totally unprepared for this. Like, why is any of this happening?" I ask Fig, and then reach up to scratch in between her eyes. Figment snorts happily, caking me in dragon snot. Due to the temperatures, the snot cools, and then freezes to my clothes, bringing me to a whole new level of disgust.

[Pottermore (PM) messaged Tumblr (TMB)!]

PM: My stupid dragon just sneezed all over me.

TMB: a book by pottermore

PM: No, really.

TMB: hey i gave that little!girl in your session a lift to mine

TMB: #helpabrotherout

PM: Wait, what?

TMB: zapped her over and im looking for her sprite

PM: So she is no longer in this universe?

TMB: got that right

PM: That's...

PM: Y'know what?

PM: Whatever.

PM: I'm overtired, my ex-best friend's sister is dead, and hell, even he used to be dead.

PM: And the girl that I may or may not be in love with is sporting this giant fake erection that's part of her superhero costume.

PM: How the hell is this my life?

TMB: #napjams

PM: Good plan.

I settle in the snow, right next to Figment's front paw. She drapes a wing over me, shading out the wavy door and everything else.

I'm going to have to go out and bury my mum soon, before spring comes. That makes my stomach feel hollow and strange. I don't want to bury my mum. I don't want my mum to be dead at all! Burial rights are something I shouldn't be worried about right now. Sleep is the only thing I need to do.

It feels like it's been days when Pottermore cracks his eyes open. Has it been days? Everything seems blurry and golden to him. Glasses. He needs glasses.

Fumbling around, he grazes his fingers over blankets and a side table. The round wire-framed glasses are sitting on a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Pottermore's room on Prospit seems nice enough to him, with a canopy bed and wardrobe and other essential bedroomy things.

Now that his vision is restored, he paces to the other end of the room, and leaps out the window. Might as well fly and burn off some extra dream calories before Youtube comes back and wakes him up.