"Psst!" Hissed in the silence, the exclamation is still loud enough to stop them both dead. The forest is so quiet around them you could hear a pin drop. They turn in unison toward the noise, and there stands an old, bent-over woman.

The hag grins broadly, showing the gaps where teeth should be. "Hark, weary travellers, lost and famished are ye? Come with me to my humble dwelling, warm thy bones and fill thy bellies."

"Who are you? How do we know we can trust you?" Percy asks, clearly not so naïve this time.

"Ah, doubt in the young one's heart. I am but a humble servant of these woods, a healer, and a wise old woman. Thy visages speak of hunger, of despair. I mean thee no ill."

Luna can't help her curiosity, "You belong to the village over there?"

"The villagers, they fear what they ken not. But I see beyond, beyond mere appearances, beyond terror. Ye are strangers to these parts but not foes. Come, let me feed thee, hearken to thy tale." The old woman smiles knowingly.

"We cannot simply follow you," Percy says grumpily. "How do we know this is not some foul trap?"

"A snare? Oh, dear child, had I wished thee harm, would I not have done so already? Ye were pursued and menaced, but here I stand, offering sustenance. A warm pottage awaits." The Wise Woman sways invitingly, clearly meaning for them to walk in the direction she's indicating.

Is her hunger getting the better of her? Is her judgement impaired? Luna is willing to risk it. "Her purpose feels true," she lies to Percy, "and we need to eat."

"Maybe so. But we shall be on our guard."

Nodding vigorously, the Wise Woman grins even more broadly at Percy and says, "Guardedness is the companion of wisdom."

"Err, we thank thee," Luna says with a wide grin of her own. "Food," she whispers under her breath and pulls on Percy's robes.

"Kindness, like the wind, takes many a form. Sometimes 'tis a gentle breeze; sometimes 'tis a howling tempest."

They follow the woman through the forest until they reach a little house that looks much like the ones in the village. Dry rock walls hold up a thatched roof made of straw and mud. She invites them to sit on a bench outside while attending to an alarmingly large cauldron hanging over a firepit.

The smell is truly heavenly.

"Stay thine presence here whilst I retrieve some fresh toadstools for brewing our hearty stew." The Wise Woman doesn't wait to see if they're staying; she simply plods into the forest.

Both Percy and Luna nod happily at her back.

"It seems like she's actually going to feed us," Percy says, wonder in his voice. "Do you really think the stew needs mushrooms? It smells just fine to me."

"We may as well be polite and wait. We've waited this long," Luna says doubtfully.

They both stare at the scary cauldron. The silence lengthens.

"When we were apparated away, there was a comet."

Percy jumps on the bench next to her. "What?"

Luna can't fathom how he doesn't know, but she explains anyway. "A comet is a celestial body made of rock and ice. When it gets close to the sun, the ice starts to melt, and a tail of water vapour and dust—"

"I know what a comet is, Luna. We covered it in Divination."

Luna contemplates this for a moment, "Did we? I don't think what we were taught was quite—"

Percy's eyes turn to the cauldron again, "Get on with it. I am drained and have no work tomorrow but to scour this damned forest for weeds we might conceivably be able to eat."

"The fern root I found earlier is definitely edible. It's also delicious."

"I don't see you eating any, but I do note that you have a pair of new earrings. Go on, tell me about the comet, then."

Luna straightens up. "Comets are considered harbingers of major change. Their unpredictable appearances—well, not anymore, of course—the Muggles know when they are coming with remarkable precision. I've only managed to learn a fraction of—"

Impatiently, cross at being torn from his stew vigil, Percy snaps, "Yes, yes, the comets bring change."

"In most religions and folk beliefs, the tailed light in the sky is an omen. Comets have blessed war, warned of impending plague, brought about heavenly retribution."

Is Percy still listening? Will the old woman ever be back?

"These days, only astrologers, Divination professors, and centaurs believe… Centaurs, they truly are mysterious creatures, impossible to get a sensible word out of." She muses. "Are you sleeping? I am not done yet."

"Blueberries are waiting for me in the morrow. Stew is beckoning right now." Percy looks entranced. The light has faded entirely, and the reflection of flames burns in his eyes.

"I'll summarise. What if what they said is true? What if comets are divine signs, supernatural omens foretelling world-changing events?"

Percy seems slightly more awake. "I thought you said they were ice."

"They are. And almost no Muggle or witch believes they're signs any more."

"The magic went away because no one believes? Luna, can't we just eat the stew now?"

The breaking of branches and rustling of leaves announce the Wise Woman. Her hands are full of dark lumps, the shape and colour hidden by the night. "Verily, I have discovered the noble fungi, the very essence of the woodland's bounty." She nods to herself and starts snipping off the stems and dropping the bulbs into the pot. Then she says, "Morels for the young ones, full of vigour and zest, chatter with boundless energy."

"No one but astrologers, centaurs, and Divination professors–" he continues sourly.

"Exactly! You are smarter than you seem, Percy Weasley."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

The old woman is stirring the stew with slow, deliberate movements.

"What if comets are more than just omens? What if they are catalysts? The Swan was at its perihelion when I was expecting your visit, and then I found myself here with you."

"The comet foretold that you and I would travel–how far back in time?"

"No, pay attention," Luna shakes her head, "it sent us back in time, about 800 years, I think."

"Why would it do such a thing? Why us? Why a place where there is no food?"

"I think great change is coming to the Wizarding World, and we're the harbingers."

"If this is about the Observatorium, I am afraid the Ministry's decision is final. Gods, we'll have to walk to Hogwarts, don't we?"

"No… The last time the comet was here was 800 years ago. I think it will send us back again. Of course, there is no way to know for sure, but if the night sky is anything to go by, it'll be in a few days."

The old woman ambles into the hut and returns with a pair of wooden bowls and a couple of spoons. The pair eat in silence and don't notice that the hag isn't partaking.