A Christmas Wish

   Harry Potter stormed across the wet grass towards the Quidditch pitch, Nimbus 2000 in hand.  Every step he took seemed to fill his boots with more and more cold water, and his glasses were so covered in raindrops now he could barely see where he was going.  He was late for practice, but he didn’t care.  Oliver Wood would probably yell at him, but again he didn’t care. 

   It wasn’t even Christmas yet, and the year was not turning out to be a good one.  Harry, with his troubled past, was used to unusual and unsettling events, but when they all started to pile up at once it was a little more difficult to cope with.  Slytherin had just cancelled their Quidditch match next week, claiming Draco Malfoy was too sick to play, meaning Gryffindor (Harry’s team) would have to play Hufflepuff instead.  This was not only upsetting for Harry and his team-mates as Hufflepuff had a completely different flying style to Slytherin, but it was down right infuriating for Harry who knew Malfoy was only faking it to get Hagrid, Harry’s friend and Care of Magical Creatures teacher, into serious trouble, as well as giving Slytherin a better chance at winning the Quidditch house cup. 

   Harry kicked at the muddy ground as the pitch came closer into view.  It wasn’t as if that was his only problem.  Oh no.  Hermione and Ron were fighting like never before, really going for gold.  It seemed everything about one an other was bugging them these days, but in particular, Hermione’s new cat Crookshanks was making repeated attacks on Ron’s rat Scabbers, something he didn’t really appreciate, and she kept defending. 

   And then there was the little matter, thought Harry bitterly, of the mass-murderer who was after Harry’s throat.  The debacle at Hallowe’en had been enough to send shivers down everyone’s spine, including the teachers it seemed. 

   Between Sirius Black, Crookshanks and Quidditch, Harry wondered how he was able to worry about anything else at all, like say, homework?  With all the grief Professors Snape and Trelawney were giving him he wasn’t too sure how his head hadn’t exploded already.  The only thing, it seemed, that was keeping him going at the moment was the fact he had a new and excellent teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts; Professor Lupin. 

   An extra loud crash of thunder made Harry jump out of his reverie.  The storm was getting much worse.  Just a bit further, Harry told himself in an effort to stop himself from giving up, throwing the blasted broom to the ground and turning sharply on his heals back into the castle.  He did, though, keep going.  Hail battered his face and his sodden cloak slapped against his frozen legs.  His teeth chattered in his head; how on earth did Oliver expect them to fly in these conditions anyway?

   Another horrendous clap of thunder, coupled with a flash of lightening, filled the air around Harry, making him look into the black sky.  Either the light (or lack there of) was playing tricks with his eyes, or something very odd was happening.  The dark clouds seemed to be swirling all around him, the wind roared. 

   Harry looked around him for the source of this nightmarish weather; he was totally alone.  He didn’t like this, he began to run, the muddy ground slipping and squelching under his feet.  But then the ground started to do something else; shake, uncontrollably, making Harry almost loose his balance completely. 

   He flailed his arms and came to a shaky stop. 

   “What the Hell is going on?!” yelled Harry to the emptiness. 

   And then the whole world went black. 

***

   The was a faint buzzing sound in the air, and even with his eyes closed Harry could tell the light above him was very bright.  Reluctantly, he eased his eyelids apart and shielded his vision with his right hand, still gloved in the Quidditch uniform.  He sat up, his hand falling to his broomstick laying beside him.  His head was spinning slightly, but he still managed to stand up, his legs only wobbling a little. 

   He looked around.  The first thing he thought was that he was in a deserted corridor, the second was that his Quidditch uniform had somehow dried itself.  Harry started walking down towards what looked like the end of the corridor, but he really had no idea where he was going.  He reached a T-junction; there was a metal lift door in front of him, to his right another corridor with trolleys and trays, and to his left it looked like a reception area.  Every direction he turned was devoid of people.  The walls only went halfway up before turning completely into glass windows, darkened out on the other side so Harry couldn’t see into them.  But he had seen enough though to start having thoughts as to what was happening. 

   He was in a hospital, for sure.  But where were all the people? 

   There was something really not right about this, and Harry fumbled for his wand, buried under his many layers of clothing.  Perhaps this was some elaborate plan of Sirius Black’s to capture him?  But what it was Harry couldn’t even begin to guess. 

   Something moved behind him making him spin round, wand raised.  He saw half a shadow disappear beyond the reception area; he couldn’t see it very clearly, but it was something big whatever it was. 

   “Hello?” called Harry, his wand still raised in front of him.  He took a cautious step forward.  “Is there anyone there?”

   No answer.

   He walked on some more, looking left and right.  The reception was completely devoid of any paperwork whatsoever, unnaturally clean; the computer screen was blank at first glance, but then Harry, looking over the counter for a closer view, saw a single word, “Processing…” flashing in the top left hand corner of the screen over and over again.  Creepy, thought Harry.  The waiting area was empty too, not even any magazines or newspapers for people to flip through whilst waiting to be seen. 

   Harry slung his broom over his shoulder and carried on walking, keeping his eyes open for the source of the shadow.  There were a number of doors either side of him in the new corridor past the reception, all open ajar and dark.  The windows in these rooms had their blinds tightly shut making it impossible for Harry to see what was inside them; he got the feeling he didn’t want to. 

   But as he walked past one of these rooms, Harry definitely heard something crash to the ground, making him spin round once again.  He couldn’t work out if it was the room on the left or on the right though.  He edged forward.  “Is anyone there?” he asked again.  “I-I’m armed,” he warned whoever it was, holding up his wand. 

   Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry reached towards the handle of the door on the left, hoping he’d got the right one.  Taking a steady breath he said, “I mean it - come out now,” sounding a lot more confident than he felt.  Something definitely moved in the room beyond the door he was holding.  His breathing became more rapid. 

   “One,” he whispered under his breath, “two…THREE!”  He yanked the door open suddenly and came face to face with…not a fully grown wizard, not a dementor, not even a crazy house elf bent on saving his life, but…an ordinary boy, about his own age.  The boy had his fists raised and as the door opened he gave a yell and went to strike Harry. 

   “Whoa!” cried Harry, flinging his arms up to protect his face.  The boy froze and frowned.  Harry lowered his arms and the boys took a good look at one another.  Harry rested the bristly end of his Nimbus on the floor, the other boy lowered his fists. 

   “Who are you?” he asked. 

   “I was going to ask the same thing to you,” replied Harry. 

   “Well I asked first,” said the other boy defiantly. Harry looked at him curiously.

   “You mean you don’t already know?” he said, but the boy shook his head and raised his eyebrows expectantly.  Harry shrugged.  “My name’s Harry Potter.”  He waited for some sort of response, but he didn’t get any of the usual ones.  The other boy simply tilted his head slightly, considering, then asked, “and what are you doing here?”

   Harry was slightly put off by this.  The boy was most likely a muggle by his lack of interest in his name, but still he was acting rather strange.  “I have no idea, one minute I was at school, the world seemed to go all funny, like I was…being washed down the plug hole I guess is the best way to describe it - and then I was here.” He waited a second, but again was rewarded with almost no response; the boy simply stepped out of the threshold of the door and into the corridor with Harry.  In the clearer light he could see he was well built, and slightly taller than he himself was. 

   “You?” Harry prompted. 

   The boy shrugged.  “More or less the same,” he said.  But that was it.  Harry was getting a little annoyed.  He was about to say something to this boy, make him wake up a bit perhaps, but he spoke again before he could.  “You have an accent - where are you from?”

   Harry frowned.  He hadn’t thought about it, but the other boy had an accent too.  “Surrey,” he said, “it’s in the South of England.  You’re American - aren’t you?”  The boy actually nodded in response.  “What-” Harry began, but he was cut off again. 

   “Why are you dressed like that?”  He had an eyebrow cocked.  Harry looked down at his Quidditch robes, then back up at the boy. 

   “It’s a sports uniform,” he dismissed quickly, attempting unsuccessfully to step in front of the Nimbus 2000, “why are you dressed like that?”  he added.  Harry thought it a bit cheeky him commenting on his perfectly decent robes, when he himself was practically half naked.  He was wearing black knee length cycling shorts and a tight black sleeveless t-shirt.  That was it; not even shoes. 

   The brown haired boy looked at his clothes a little sheepishly.  “Err…yeah - I was - at the gym.”

   “With no shoes?”  It was Harry’s turn to ask the odd questions now. 

   “Look-”

   “Look yourself,” snapped Harry, “we could be in a really bad situation here - so how about you tell me your name and we can go from there?”

   The boy’s mouth was a thin line.  “How do I know I can trust you?”  Harry thought this a rather odd thing for a muggle to say; maybe he was particularly wary for some reason. 

   “It’s just a name,” said Harry reasonably. 

   “Fine,” snapped the boy, “my name is Jake.”

   “Jake,” repeated Harry.  “Right then, I don’t know what’s going on Jake - but it could be something really bad, so perhaps it would be best if we stuck together.”

   “Who put you in charge?” demanded the American boy.  Harry looked at him incredulously. 

   “There are some things I’m guessing you don’t understand-”

   “I could say the same about you.”

   “And I know a thing or two about handling them,” finished Harry through gritted teeth. 

   Jake folded his arms.  “I doubt it,” he said bitterly. 

   “Fine,” Harry cried, shaking his head and throwing up his hands, “I really don’t need this.”  He turned on his heals, and came face to face with a little girl blocking his path. 

***

   “Hello,” she said pleasantly, “are you here to see Danny?”  After getting over his initial shock, Harry guessed the girl was barely five years old, if that.  She had strawberry blond ringlets, roughly tamed back with a navy ribbon.  She wore a light blue dress with white frilly bits and was cuddling a large fluffy teddy bear.  Harry crouched down so he was eye level with her. 

   “Who’s Danny?” he said softly to her, not wanting to make too much noise.  He had no idea where she’d come from, and he knew better than to trust on looks alone; she may have looked like a little girl, but that was no indication that she wouldn’t turn into something nasty given the chance. 

   “He’s my bother - would you like to see him?”  She hugged the bear tighter and rested her head on top of his.  She had an American accent, just like Jake’s, and a slight lisp.  Harry turned and looked at the brown haired boy to see what he was making of this.  For the first time he looked back at Harry as if they were on the same side, and crouched down beside him. 

   “Yes - we’d like to see him,” he said to the girl, “where is he?”

   “Follow me!” she cried, turned her back to them and ran round the end of the corridor, disappearing off to the right.  

   “Hang on!” yelled Harry.  He grabbed his broom and sprinted after her, Jake just behind him.  They turned the corner, right behind her; but it was completely empty.  “Well that’s just a little odd,” said Harry, perturbed. 

   Jake narrowed his eyes.  “Should we follow?” he asked Harry.  But Harry was looking down the corridor; it seemed to dissolve completely into nightmarish blackness not ten meters away from them. 

   “I’m thinking no,” he replied.  So they started walking hastily back the way they’d come, making their way back to the reception with occasional furtive looks behind their shoulders.  Just as Harry was starting to think this was looking more and more like some really bad dream, he stopped suddenly in his tracks.  Jake followed suit, looking inquisitively at him.  “Did you hear that?” asked Harry quietly.  Jake shook his head, but Harry knew he’d heard something. 

   They were approaching the reception desk; it was just around the next corner.  “I’m sure it’s a machine of some kind,” came a girl’s voice from out of sight.  Jake jumped and looked at Harry; he knew he believed him now.  The two boys, Harry with his wand out, timidly poked their heads round the corner. 

   There were three people in the reception area.  A girl of about Harry’s age was sitting looking at the computer, a boy, slightly younger, was leaning on the counter looking at the nearly blank screen, and a baby girl was perched on the counter itself, chewing on a metal paperweight shaped like a dolphin.  They looked…Victorian?

   Harry frowned his eyes.  “Do you know them,” whispered Jake.  Harry shook his head.  “Me neither,” said Jake back. 

   “If only I had read something that told us how to use it,” lamented the boy, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, “if it really is a ‘computer’, it’s nothing like the ones father showed me, but if only I had read further in “Wondrous Workings of the World” it might have told me something.”

   The girl nodded her head.  “Yes, it is a shame.  And none of my inventions work like this, otherwise I might have known how to operate it and then it could have told us something about where we are,” she said. 

   “Squirful,” said the baby girl now holding the mouse in her other hand, which Harry felt meant something like ‘or maybe if I bite down on this hard enough - it might tell us how we got here.’  It crossed Harry’s mind that they had a rather odd way of talking, not to mention they were also American.  Harry was starting to feel he’d most likely left the country entirely, a thought that didn’t comfort him much. 

   “I think they might have the same problem as us,” said Jake matter-of-factly.  Harry nodded.  The two boys took the unanimous decision to step out of the shadows and introduce themselves. 

   “Hello there?” called Harry, making the three children jump. 

   “Hello,” called the girl back, “who are you - do you live here?” Harry looked at Jake. 

   “Er - no,” he said, “I’m Harry and this is Jake.”  Harry saw Jake wince out of the corner of his eye at the repetition of his name; what his problem was Harry had no idea.  He chose to ignore him and continue talking with the other children.  “We were…well, sort of brought here - the ground-”

   “Did it swallow you up?” said the boy eagerly.  Harry nodded, as did Jake.  “Us too! We were in the orphan’s shack-”

   “Excuse me?” interrupted Jake. 

   “The orphan’s shack - that’s where we have to stay at our boarding school.  You see we’re orphan’s and we can’t afford to pay for proper rooms - so that’s where we have to stay.”

   “It’s ghastly,” agreed the girl, nodding. 

   “I’m an orphan too,” said Harry, he wasn’t really sure why.  He thought he’d had it bad in the cupboard under the stairs; at least he could escape to his school, not like these children. 

   “Oh dear!” cried the girl, “there are so many orphan’s nowadays!”

   “Anyway,” carried on the boy, “the floor started to rumble, rattling the cockroaches everywhere - and then we seemed to land here - in this hospital.”

   “And we were hoping this was a computer - that it could tell us some information.”

   “Astoot!” cried the baby, meaning ‘but it doesn’t work at all!’

   “No,” said Jake, looking back the way they had just walked and folding his arms.  “Nothing works here.”

   “That’s because it’s another world.”

   The five youngsters turned around.  A girl slightly younger than Harry was standing in the doorway to the hospital, the other side of the reception desk.  She was wrapped head to toe in thick clothes and furs, her boots were covered in snow.  She walked confidently over to them; Harry could see fantastic golden hair poking out from under her furry hat.  This girl looked like she’d just walked out of the Antarctic. 

   “I’ve just come through a portal my father opened - it’s a doorway between worlds, you must have done the same.”  The girl pulled her hat off and shook out her shining hair.  What looked like a ferret squirmed out from her coat and wrapped itself around her neck as she placed the hat, and then her mittens on the counter next to the baby who was still chewing the metal paperweight.  Harry wished she’d stop; she must be hurting her teeth. 

   “Erm…I don’t think so,” said Harry to the girl, “none of us walked through anything - we were - pulled.”

   The girl shrugged her shoulders.  “Okay,” she said, “but that’s what happened to me.”  She had an English accent, Harry noted, not that it necessarily meant anything, seeing as she was from another world and everything.  His head was hurting; he couldn’t even begin to make sense of what was happening to him, or who these other people were, but he had a feeling it wasn’t good what ever it was. 

   “Right,” said Jake, “well - this is all great fun, but we’re in a serious situation here and-”

   “Where are you’re Dæmons?” asked the blond girl suddenly.  She looked quite perturbed. 

   “Our what?” replied the girl sitting at the computer. 

   “Dæmons,” she repeated, and peered round at the others, looking for the Dæmons it seemed. 

   “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” said Jake tersely, “but-”

   “Dæmons!” she cried, only to be met with blank faces.  “This is Dæmon!” said the girl incredulously, pointing to the ferret round her neck.  As she said it though, the ferret hopped onto the counter, and promptly changed into a raven. 

   “Whoa!” cried Jake, stepping back suddenly.  “What the Hell is that!?”

   The girl scowled; it looked like a perfected technique.  “His name is Pan, my Dæmon.  You don’t seem to have any - it’s like you’ve all lost your right arms or something.” She was quite cross they didn’t all have ferret/bird type things running round; in fact she took a step back from them and crossed her arms, not wanting to be near them. 

   Harry looked from Jake back to the girl.  This wasn’t getting them anywhere.  “Look…my name’s Harry.”  He held his hand out to her.  “I promise we’re not going to hurt you - like Jake said - we’re all in the same situation.”

   She eyed his hand; he realised he was still holding his wand between his fingers.  “Are you a witch?” she asked uncertainly, glancing from the wand to the broom to Harry’s startled face.  “Is that why you don’t have a Dæmon - is she somewhere else without you?”

   Harry wasn’t quite sure what to say.  He thought of something pretty quickly though.  “I’m not a witch,” he spluttered, “I’m a wizard.” 

   He instantly wished he hadn’t said anything; just how stupid was he saying that in front of a load of muggles?  Jake took a further step back from the group, eyebrows lost in his soft brown hair; the three children around the computer looked at one another, unsure, and huddled together slightly.  The girl with the Dæmon didn’t seem that put out though, she merely nodded in a knowing way and said “ohh.”

   “You’re…a wizard - as in magic?” said the other boy with the glasses.  He looked sceptical and more than a little concerned. 

   “Er…” started Harry, trying not to panic; the very last thing he needed was to get himself in trouble with the Ministry with everything else that was going on. 

   The blond girl answered for him though.  “Yes - magic,” she said, as if this were perfectly normal, “surely you have magic in this world?” She pulled something out of her pocket as she spoke. 

   “Well, sort of,” Harry said, just as the other four cried “no!” quite horrified. 

   “They don’t know it - but yeah,” explained Harry, wishing bitterly that he’d kept his big mouth shut.  He was glad Hermione wasn’t here; she would have grilled him to within an inch of his life for this. 

   “Well, magic is perfectly normal where I come from,” said the girl and lifted up the object from her pocket.  “This is a magical device,” she explained, holding it up for them to see.  Harry though it looked like an elaborate gold compass, but honestly couldn’t see what kind of magic it possessed. 

   It seemed the girl, however, was thinking something along the same lines.  She looked at it for a number of seconds, concentration alive on her slightly grubby face.  After a few moments though her face changed to concern.  “It’s not working,” she said weakly to her Dæmon, now a moth flying about her head.  “Why isn’t it working?”  No one had an answer for her.  “I don’t think I like this world very much,” she said to Harry, and crossly put the compass back into her pocket. 

   “Fubar,” said the baby girl, which Harry thought meant ‘me neither,’ though he had no idea why, and couldn’t be bothered to waste anymore energy worrying about it. 

   “So - your name’s Harry?” said the girl.  He nodded.  “And you’re Jake?” Jake, who was still standing a good few meters away, gave a reluctant nod.  “Well, my name’s Lyra Silvertongue - you’ve already met Pan.” She pointed to the raven on her shoulder. 

   “He was a moth a second ago,” said Harry uncertain. 

   “It depends how I’m feeling,” said Lyra, as if this once again explained everything. 

   “We’re Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire,” said the girl at the computer.  As she spoke she pulled a ribbon out of her pocket and tied it carefully into her hair, sweeping it out of her face.  The conversation faltered into silence.  No of them were sure what to do next. 

   They didn’t have to wait long for a distraction though. 

   All of a sudden, there was a blinding flash of light, a sound like a tape being rewound and rolls of thunder shook the walls out of nowhere.  The group found themselves slamming into the reception desk; and the room suddenly exploded with people. 

***

   Violet gasped and shot out of the chair; just in time as a receptionist with pink highlighted hair and a nose ring flung herself into it and started typing on the keyboard.  The screen was very much alive now, flashing with information. 

   People were demanding to be scene; the receptionist was waving her hand, trying to calm them down and type and answer the phone all at the same time.  Doctors were running everywhere, all the chairs in the waiting area were now full of people coughing, children crying, parent’s sleeping, teenagers sulking. 

   Harry thought they were in a muggle A and E, and his first instinct was that he and his Quidditch uniform had to hide.  But very quickly it became apparent that although they could very much see and hear everyone else, they could not see him, or any of his new found friends.  They just carried on with their own business, completely oblivious to the odd assortment of youngsters standing there. 

   The six of them quickly rushed out of the desk area, not wanting to be stepped on.  “Let’s get out of here!” cried Jake and raced towards the front door, the others close behind.  But when they reached the automatic doors, they stopped very suddenly, for it seemed there was nowhere else to go.  Just like the corridor where the girl had disappeared, the door simply lead out into darkness.

   “That doesn’t look like a very safe option,” said Klaus reasonably.  Harry’s stomach did a kind of flip and he stepped hastily away from the oblivion. 

   “Why don’t you follow me?” called a familiar voice.  Spinning round, Harry saw the little girl with the teddy bear once more. 

   “Hey!” cried Jake, “hello again!”  Harry got the impression Jake was thinking (as was he) that this little girl had something to do with what was going on, and was doing his best to get her to stay and help them.  “I thought you were going to take us to your brother?”  He smiled a bright smile at the girl, who nodded cheerfully back. 

   “It’s this way!” she said playfully, and spun round, running off again. 

   “Oh no you don’t!” cried Jake, “not again!”  He ran after her, not waiting for the others, although they weren’t far behind.  They raced up to the end of the corridor, twisting and turning.  The corridors became empty again, though not in the same spooky way as before, just there were less people around the further they went from the reception.  They kept running, until Jake stopped and they all smacked into one another. 

   They had turned yet another corridor; the little girl stood facing them.  “Danny’s waiting!” said the little girl, upset, “why won’t you come?” But Harry could give her a very good reason why they were no longer following her.  A great shadow was looming unnaturally behind her, consuming the corridor, rumbling and snarling, it would be on them any second now. 

   “Run!” shouted Harry.  He did not want to stick around to find out what that thing was.  The party turned on the their heals and ran back a different rout, taking them away from both the shadow and the reception area. 

   Once safely away, they all stopped, panting.  “What the Hell is going on?!” cried Jake.

   “It’s like a nightmare,” said Violet, her hand resting on her chest as it rose and fell rapidly.  Harry pushed a door open to his left and switched on the light; it was reasonably big and empty of any people. 

   “Let’s go in here for a moment,” he suggested to the others, who readily agreed.  They filed into the room, and Klaus placed baby Sunny carefully on the empty bed.  Jake leaned wearily against the wall, Lyra fell into the plastic chair by the bed. 

   “I think something bad’s happening here,” said Harry, “and we need to work out what it is.”

   “It must be something horrid Count Olaf is doing to try and steal our fortune,” said Violet confidently, her brother and sister nodding in agreement. 

   “No - surely this is my uncle’s doing,” argued Lyra, it’s magic for sure.”  Harry was about to agree that magic was at the core of it, when Jake interrupted them with a sigh. 

   “You don’t understand,” he said sadly, “there’s something you don’t understand about the world, but I do.”  He pushed himself off the wall.  “The only one capable of doing something like this is someone called Visser Three, he’s-”

   “No,” said Harry, cutting across him, “it’s got to be Voldemort - he’s the only one with enough power-”

   “But my uncle?”

   “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

   “Olaf is very crafty, he-”

   “It’s Sirius-”

   “It’s the Germans!”

   Everyone stopped talking suddenly.  Harry looked around the room, but the voice had not come from any of his companions.  There was a movement under the bed, and a young girl emerged slowly from the shadows.  “It must be the Germans,” she said again, “it can’t be the White Witch; we’re not in Narnia any more.”

   “I was thinking Kansas, but if Narnia works for you…” said Jake weakly. 

   She was only about eight Harry though, and was dressed, as her comments about the Germans suggested, like a child from the midst of the second world war.  She spoke with an English accent, had chocolaty brown hair tied in pigtails and was, like Lyra, wrapped in a fur coat.  “I came out of the wardrobe,” she said, upset, “and I was no longer where I should have been.  This place is very scary, I don’t like it much, I want to go home.”  She bit her trembling lip, her eyes welling with tears. 

   Harry bent down on his knees.  “What’s you’re name,” he asked kindly. 

   “Lucy,” replied the girl in her rather posh English accent.  “I really should find my sister and brothers before I’m missed.”  She seemed quite distressed. 

   Harry picked her up and rested her on the bed with Sunny.  “We’re doing our best to get out of here,” he told her, “don’t worry.”  She nodded, still upset, but less tearful at least. 

   “I don’t think we can stay here,” Jake said to the others after a moment or two, “I think we should try and find that girl again - she’s looking like our only way out at the moment.”  The others nodded, so, checking the coast was clear before leaving the room (why Harry wasn’t sure, they were invisible anyway), they started down the corridor again. 

   A number of nurses, doctors and patients walked past them, oblivious to their presence, but there was no sign of the little girl with the teddy bear.  They found themselves walking down a flight of stairs, keen to avoid the crowded lifts, until they reached a relatively empty canteen.  There was a clock on the wall; it read 06:17.  “I’m hungry,” said Lyra over the hushed talk of the people eating at the plastic tables, “do you think we could eat some of this food?”

   Harry was about to answer, when suddenly their was a thudding of running feet coming from behind them.  Harry (yet again) spun round, his wand out.  A child was running full pelt towards them, the doors swinging back and forth from his rapid entrance through them.  Judging by his dress, Harry quickly assumed he belonged here just as much as they did. 

   “Whoa!” he cried for the second time since his arrival at the nightmare hospital, and grabbed the boy as he approached them. 

   He was gasping and terrified.  On a closer look Harry was less sure he was a child, and wondering more if he was a miniature type of human.  Y’know, apart from the fact his ears were rather pointy and he was, like Jake, without shoes.  His feet were considerably more hairy than Jake’s though. 

   “What is happening?” he cried, his hand clutching at something around his neck, “what land is this?”

   “We’re not sure,” assured Violet, “but we’re friends, I promise you.” 

   “Who were you running from?” asked Lucy from behind Harry’s legs.  Although he looked almost older than Harry, the new comer was about the same height as her.  His breathing was slowing, becoming more calm. 

   “The Nazgül,” he replied, looking unsure back over his shoulder, “but then there was a great shadow…” he trailed off. 

   Harry had know idea what that meant by ‘Nazgül’, but he wasn’t surprised by that, and the fact he had seen the shadow beast too only confirmed his thoughts that this boy belonged with them.  Rather than dwelling on it further, he asked the boy for his name.  “Frodo,” he said in response, leaving whatever it was around his neck alone with a last reassuring tug.  He buttoned his rather dirty cream shirt higher, covering a shiny sort of vest, and fidgeted with a forest green cloak wrapped around his shoulders.  “You are…human, aren’t you?” he asked looking at Harry and his companions. 

   “Er…yes,” said Jake, “ what else would we be?”

   “Well…” said Frodo, regaining his composure and looking about his surroundings, “I’m a Hobbit, and I was unsure as to whether or not you were elves - I’ve not met many myself, and your strange clothing made me wonder.”

   There was a pause.  “Of course,” said Violet generously, and Jake muttered something about our strange clothing.  Harry looked on with increasing interest at the new arrival.  He had certainly never read anything about ‘Hobbits’ in Fantastic beasts and where to find them, and they were turning out to be a fascinating species. 

   Lucy had wondered over to the food counter and was peering through the glass at what was on offer.  “Do you think they would mind if I had some porridge?” she asked the group over her shoulder.  Harry frowned and came over to join her.  Apparently an early breakfast was being served, as toast, bacon, eggs, bagels, cereal and something that looked a lot like sick was spread out in bowls all over the counter for people to choose from. 

   Jake, standing at Harry’s shoulder, tilted his head.  “That’s not porridge,” he said, “it’s oatmeal.”  Something seemed to light behind the American boy’s eyes.  He hopped over the counter, grabbed a ladle and fished out a great spoonful of oatmeal, slopping it into a bowl.  The people around them were completely oblivious to any of this still and carried on with their food.  Jake banged the bowl on the top of the glass covering the counter. 

   “Everybody take a bite of this,” he said in a commanding sort of voice.  Klaus raised his eyebrows. 

   “May I ask why?”

   “No you may not,” snapped Jake, “we’re not going any further until I’m quite satisfied.”

   “Of what?” asked Lyra. 

   “That you’re not all yeerks,” said Jake simply. 

   Harry and Lyra exchanged raised eyebrows.  Neither of them had any clue what he was talking about.  Jake looked around the group, his eyes resting on their latest companion; Frodo. 

   Jake took a table spoon, scooped some of the oatmeal out and offered it to the little Hobbit.  “You first,” he said.  Although his tone was determined, it held no trace of malice. 

   Frodo looked at the rather dubious substance being held before him.  “Why me?” he asked honestly. 

   “Just take it man, it’s your frickin’ birthright,” said Jake tensely.  Frodo, however, was not quite as naive as perhaps thought from first impressions.  He looked wearily at Jake. 

   “How do I know it’s not poisoned?”

   Lyra’s eyes flew open.  “Poison?”

   “It’s not poisoned,” snapped Jake. 

   “But how do we know that?”

   Jake looked at Violet, who kept her eyebrows raised, waiting for a response to her question.  “Fine,” he snapped, “I’ll go first.”  He turned the spoon round and put it in his mouth, swallowing the luke-warm cereal.  The rest of the group looked expectantly at him. 

   “What exactly are we looking for?” asked Harry. 

   “Convulsions, spewing, mad rantings - that sort of thing.”  He scooped another spoonful out and handed it to Frodo, who tentatively took it.  When he swallowed the oatmeal without any problems the rest of the group followed suit, until only little Sunny was left. 

   “Pemberley,” she said chewing the spoon, which Harry took to mean something like ‘that food was quite horrid and squishy - but I like this posh spoon very much.’ 

   “Excellent,” said Jake, apparently satisfied. 

   “This is getting stranger by the minute,” said Harry, shaking his head. 

   “Of course,” said the little girl with the teddy bear.  Harry wasn’t even surprised she had appeared mysteriously once again; this time poking her head out from the other side of the door across the room.  Harry quickly walked over to where she was as Jake dropped the spoon onto the glass and followed him, along with the others. 

   “Why ‘of course’?” Harry asked as she stepped back through the door; he had to catch it to stop it from swinging shut and most likely enabling her to disappear once more.  They filed out of the canteen and followed the little girl up a new corridor, praying she wouldn’t vanish on them again.  “What do you mean?” asked Harry again. 

   “This is Sunnydale,” she said simply, turning to face them, “strange things are always happening here.”

***

   “Where?” asked Klaus.  But before the girl could answer, Harry slammed into Klaus, as something had slammed into him. 

   “Sorry,” mumbled a plump, black nurse quickly, not really looking at where she was going, too immersed in her chart as she was.  She did turn round and say, “intensive care’s up the corridor to your right if that’s what you’re looking for.”  She then carried on walking away from them, turning out of sight. 

   Harry looked at where she had been standing in shock.  “Since when were we visible?” asked Jake in a shaky voice. 

   “Hey! She’s gone again!” cried Lyra, indicating the empty space where the girl and her teddy bear had been. 

   “I’m sick of this,” snapped Harry, “I want to leave.  Now.”

   “Why don’t we try the ICU, like the nurse said,” suggested Violet.  Harry nodded, unable to think of anything better, and they began walking in the direction she’d told them.  He heard Frodo asking Lyra what an ‘ICU’ was, but she had no answer to give him.  They carried on walking in silence. 

   But they could be seen now, thought Harry, concerned.  Not everyone would overlook such an unusual group of youngsters as the nurse had done, and questions were bound to be asked. 

   They reached the ward labelled ‘Intensive Care Unit’, but just as Harry was going to pull the doors open, they swung inwards, and a girl stepped through from the other side.  She stopped halfway though catching sight of them.

   She frowned, uncomprehending for a moment.  She was very pretty, Harry noticed rather inappropriately, with freckles and long, sleek brown hair.  She stood face to face with him for a good couple of seconds before she tilted her head, her frown increasing considerably, and finally said; “you look like…Harry Potter?”

   Although she was definitely another American, Harry felt a thrill of hope that he might have found someone close to home, someone magic, someone who could help them get out of here perhaps.  He couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief.  “Yeah - I’m Harry Potter,” he said, for once glad of the fact. 

   Her hand flew to her mouth.  “Oh my God, like - no way!” she squealed.  “But - you can’t be?” she added, unsure. 

   Harry shrugged his shoulders, “I am,” he assured her, “who are you?”

   “Oh - I’m no one,” she said quickly, still transfixed, looking at Harry’s scar, “I’m just visiting my friend.”

   “His name’s not Danny is it?” asked Lyra. 

   “Err - no, why?” she looked at the rest of the group for the first time, and an even greater look of concern crossed her face. 

   “Damn it,” swore Jake, “we’re never getting out of this Hell-Hole.”

   “It’s the Hellmouth, actually,” said the girl nonchalantly. 

   “Beg your pardon?” asked Klaus. 

   “Uh - nothing,” she replied quickly. 

   “Look,” said Harry, “we’re trying to find a boy called Danny - you wouldn’t have any idea where we could start do you?”

   “Well - have you tried the Children’s Ward?” asked the girl with the brown hair. 

   “Um…no,” said Jake, a little embarrassed maybe at not thinking of that before.  The girl smiled. 

   “Oh - then, follow me,” she said cheerfully.  She lead the way, letting the doors to the ICU swing shut behind her.  Harry walked behind her.  “This is like some kind of dream,” she said excitedly, more to herself than the others, but Harry being the closest took it upon himself to reply. 

   “It’s actually more of a nightmare, now you come to mention it,” he told her, “we’ve all been sucked from our homes, or close to that anyway, none of us know where we are, there seems to be some sort of shadow beast chasing us, and until now, no one could even see us, it was like we were invisible.”

   “Really?” said the brown haired girl.  Harry nodded and tried not to look and how slender her waist was, or how brilliant her smile was.  Focus, he told himself sternly. 

   “Well, y’know, a lot of really weird stuff’s been happening here lately - I just can’t believe I’m talking to Harry Potter,” she said breathlessly, pushing another door open.  “My sister-”

   But they didn’t get to know about the brown haired girl’s sister. 

   The little girl was holding her teddy bear, waiting for them on the other side it seemed.  “There you are,” she said, “what took you so long?”  Harry dearly wanted to say ‘you kept running off, that’s what took us so long’, but thought it wouldn’t help matters. 

   He looked around at where they were.  There was a long row either side of him of beds, all filled with sleeping children.  They were more than sleeping though; they were sick, very sick.  Deathly pale, linked up to all sorts of machines they lay unmoving.  The little girl stood next to a bed where a young boy was resting.  Harry noticed for the first time that there were Christmas decorations everywhere.

   “Hello,” said the brown haired girl, crouching down to talk with the child, “my name’s Dawn - what’s yours?”

   “Matilda,” said the girl with the teddy bear.  Harry and the rest of the group were standing behind Dawn, looking down at her as she hugged the bear tighter.  “I’m scared, can you make the bad spirits go away?”

   “What bad spirits?” asked Dawn kindly. 

   “Uh - maybe those bad spirits,” cried Jake, looking up and beyond.  Through the double doors at the other end of the ward the shadow monster was spilling through, roaring and flailing above the sleeping children.  Dawn gasped; Harry gabbed his wand, dropping his broom.  He had no idea what he was going to do, but at least he was prepared.  

   The shadow didn’t attack them though.  It writhed into a sort of shape, dividing itself, settling in equal amounts above each of the children, like they all had their own personal rain cloud.  There it stayed then, still roaring and crackling, but not threatening to envelope anyone just yet. 

   “What is it?” uttered Frodo, as the children began to fidget in their beds, frowns adorning their pale faces, hands clenching into fists and moaning.  “Is it hurting those children?”

   Harry stepped forward, edging towards it.  “They’re always there.” Harry turned round and looked at Matilda. 

   “Sorry?” he said. 

   She was almost in tears.  “No one ever sees them, but they’re always there - it’s what’s making Danny sick.”  Harry looked over at the bed where she had been standing next to a moment ago, and then at the boy twisting within it.  He edged towards him, always aware of the cloud in turmoil above him. 

   “Is this Danny?”  Matilda nodded.  Harry could feel the others watching him anxiously.  Violet looked behind at the doors they had come through, probably expecting a nurse or doctor to walk through at any minute.  Still Harry edged towards the bed, his eye had caught something rather disturbing laying on Danny’s bedside table. 

   “Mommy reads to him every day, but I don’t think he hears her any more,” Matilda added desperately, hugging her bear so tightly.  Harry’s breath was ragged, he knew it.  Ever so slowly he picked up a book, it was on top of a pile of many.  He looked at the cover, hardly believing what he was seeing. 

   ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’ it read in jagged bold lettering.  On the cover there was a drawing of a boy who looked remarkably like himself, riding a Hippogriff next to a girl who looked disturbingly like Hermione.  “What the-” he uttered in disbelief.  Underneath was a book called ‘Animorphs’, the next ‘A Series of Unfortunate Events’, book after book, each with brightly coloured bookmarks sticking out halfway through them.  Dawn took the book from him.

   “I think I know what’s going on-” she began.  But before she could carry on, the cloud above Danny emitted a violent blast of lightening, striking Harry square on the chest, knocking him to the floor. 

   Lucy screamed.  Klaus called “are you all right?!”

   There was suddenly a pounding on the door.  “Who’s in there?” cried a woman, her silhouette outlined in the glass.  Since when were the doors locked thought Harry briefly, before Dawn hauled him up. 

   “Hey!” she cried, “I think I know what’s going on.” The clouds were becoming violent again, swarming round the room, howling, banging against the walls.  The children writhed bellowed them, crying in their sleep.  “This kind of thing’s happened before - I think you got too close - try shaking him awake or something?”

   “What?” screamed Harry over the commotion.  If he’d been paying attention, he would have noticed that Jake had somehow turned himself into a tiger, and Lyra’s ferret was no longer a ferret, but a rather large polar bear.  Both animals were growling and swiping at both the shadow spirits and the many people now banging on the door.

   Dawn grabbed the book with his name on it off the floor and shook it at him.  “The only thing that seems to have been keeping this boy alive,” she yelled over the din, “is you - all of you.  You got too close and that spirit thing pushed you away - I think you can help him - we just have to figure out how!”

   Harry didn’t understand at all what this girl was saying, but he felt a tugging on his Quidditch robes.  “His favourite spell is Wigardium Leviosa!” cried Matilda.  Harry looked at her, then at Dawn, his head spinning. 

   “Try it!” she cried, “he brought you to life - it must have been for a reason!”  The banging on the door and the storm raging above was almost deafening now.  Not knowing what else to do, Harry pointed his wand at the books and yelled the spell as loud as he could.  They flew off the table and then clattered to the floor. 

   It was enough though.  The part of the storm above Danny’s bed seemed to falter and crack; he shifted ever so slightly in his bed, taking a gasp of air before arching his back.  “I think the cloud’s making them sick - that’s their illnesses!” cried Dawn.  “Fire a spell into the cloud Harry!”  He did as he was told, and the storm seemed to shatter above him, making the ground shake.  Danny started opening his eyes, but Harry crumpled to the floor.  He could feel it writhing inside him, like he’d absorbed the storm. 

   “Harry!” cried Dawn, rushing over to him.  “You did it - he’s waking up!”  But, as Matilda rushed over to her brother, the banging on the door still carried on, and the storm above the rest of the room was still raging strong. 

   “I think you’ve saved him,” said Dawn again, “you did it!”  Harry, although he suddenly felt full of sickness, felt like he finally understood. 

   “The others,” he said, “help me to the others.” It was Dawn’s turn not to understand now but she lifted him to the next bed regardless.  Harry reached out with his wand, and he felt the illness, the sickness flowing into him. 

   Lyra was watching what he was doing.  Quickly making up her mind, she ran to the bed closest to her, pulled her golden compass out of her pocket and held it out over the child, sleeping fretfully in the bed beneath her.  It was like it was a conduit, and the storm above, responsible it seemed for keeping the child sick, shot like lightening into it, channelling through the compass and into her. 

   She felt an almost physical blow in her stomach, but, stumbling, she ran to the next bed.  Lucy watched her terrified as the walls shook terribly, but then thought of her gift, her tiny vile of healing solution.  She crawled, ducking the storm that was lashing out with tendril like limbs, and reached out to one of the children in the bed beside her, vile in hand. 

   Frodo took the long chain holding the One Ring out from his shirt and held it over another bed, Violet tied her ribbon round a girl’s wrist, Sunny dropped her paperweight onto one of the pillows and bit at the sheets.  The storm, the sickness as it seemed, tugged and fought above them, screaming and crashing just as much as the nurses and doctors outside the doors. 

   But they fought it just as hard, sucking the shadow into them, out of the children.  It seemed as if the doors would surely break though, so many people were trying so hard to get through them now.  But they kept going, kept on trying, until…

***

   Harry stumbled, his feet slipping on the wet grass just outside the Quidditch pitch.  He put his hand on his forehead, rubbing away a headache.  He felt like he’d just had the weirdest dream. 

   “Potter!” yelled Oliver Wood, “what the Hell time do you call this?  Get yourself over here!”

   Harry rushed over.  He knew he’d be late.  But for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, it didn’t seem to bother him that much any more.  In fact, he felt quite cheerful compared to just a second ago.  He smiled and mounted his broom, a light feeling in his stomach lifting him higher, letting him soar. 

***

Miracle at Sunnydale General Hospital

   It has been reported by eye witnesses that yesterday, December 23^rd, there was an ‘incredible, inexplicable’ recovery of more than a dozen terminally ill children at the Sunnydale General Hospital.  Doctors can offer no explanation as to why they were able to discharge all the patients from their Children’s Ward’s most serious wing in time for the Christmas holiday.  “Honestly,” said nurse Pickard, one of the ward’s many dedicated staff, “it’s a miracle.”

   There were reports of a great disturbance at the scene prior to the amazing recoveries, but when doctors were finally able to gain access there was allegedly only a single teenage girl to be found sitting on the end of a bed with on of the patients sisters…

   Dawn Summers smiled to herself.  “What you looking at?” asked her older sister, Buffy, walking into the kitchen.  Dawn dropped the newspaper onto the counter and picked up her glass of orange juice. 

   “Oh nothing,” she said casually, “can we decorate the tree now?”

The End

   A/N - Right, here we go!  Featuring in this little story were, in order of appearance:

·        Harry Potter from the Harry Potter series by JKRowling

·        Jake from the Animorphs series by KAApplegate (his neuroticism was fun, hope you got the whole oatmeal thing!)

·        Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire from A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket (they were so much fun to write I can’t tell you!)

·        Lyra Silvertongue from His Dark Materials by Phillip Pullman

·        Lucy from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe by CSLewis

·        Frodo Baggins from The Lord of the Rings by the masterful JRRTolkien (did you get the Faculty reference? Ahh, simple things for simple minds…!)

·        Dawn Summers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (am I the only one she doesn’t completely p*ss off?!)  Oh - and Buffy obviously made an appearance too :-)

   Sorted?  Okay - now onto the plot.  I basically tea-leafed it from a whole bunch of TV shows, which are as follows:

·        Buffy the Vampire Slayer - “Nightmares” (season 1) and “Killed By Death” (season 2)

·        The X-Files - the one where Monica gets trapped in the creepy dolls-house/hospital type thing (season 9)

·        Roswell - the Christmas episode with Max and Michael in the hospital (season 2)

·        Smallville - the one with the little girl running round the graveyard tormenting Lana

·        Star Trek: The Next Generation - the one with the little girl’s imaginary friend

   That’s about all I think! If you notice any others, let me know, coz my memory’s pants :-) I hope you liked it!

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