Little Hangleton

Inside the Leaky Cauldron Petunia and Rowan shared a room with twin beds, while Andrew took a small room of his own right across the hallway from the girls. They had all napped in their beds until eight o'clock, when they finally got up to wash their faces and decided to have brunch in London rather than the Leaky Cauldron. They all had silently agreed that the food seemed very dubious looking to begin with.

The three of them had emerged out into the semi-cloudy morning London sky. The popular cars of the era could be seen zooming down the city streets such as the Ford Cortina or Escort, the Mini, the Austin/Morris, the sporty Vauxhall Viva, the Ford Capri, the Hillman Avenger, and last but not least the good old Austin Maxi. If anything, it proved that it truly was the seventies.

The three of them carefully cross the street as they window shop and stare at those passing by. Petunia is fascinated by the more modern London fashion, while Andrew is simply fascinated by the muggle world. There was the still lady like English women wearing a matching Tweedy jacket and skirt accompanied by panty hoses and low heels. The men in their formal suits, but then there was the more modern and younger crowd. Young women wearing trousers or shorter skirts with jumpers, while young men were jackets, bell-bottom jeans, and patterned shirts.

Both men and women smoke openly on the streets causing Rowan to wrinkle her nose. She did not very much like smoker's as the cigarette smoke tended to give her a raging headache. But it was the era and smoking during this day and age was considered fashionable and said to help a woman lose weight. False, yes, and even if the research that indicated that lung cancer was related to smoking had been published since 1950 not many people listened. It wasn't really until the 1970's that the government began to crack down on public health.

They had not gone far when they spotted a charming café that was half full. Seeing the crowd as a good indication of good food, the three of them made their way inside for brunch. They took a seat in corner of the café, and quietly chatted before their server brought them a full English breakfast accompanied by piping hot tea.

Seeing the food Andrew eagerly dug in as Rowan made a face at the fried tomatoes on her plate, before moving it to the side. She rather disliked eating fried tomatoes; it was a pet peeve of her which had often gotten her nagged at in her childhood. Seeing Rowan's actions, Petunia rolled her eyes, and used her fork to scrape the offending tomatoes onto her plate.

"Thank you," Rowan primly said, before cutting her sausage with her knife.

"Your welcome, Row," Petunia snickered, before falling silent as she ate.

Once finished, they wandered off and explored the London shops buying a little bit of everything. By noon, they were all heavy laden with bags luckily magic can work wonders and Rowan cast a light charm on all their purchases to carry them around. Starving, they finally stopped for lunch at Scott's, 20 Mount Street, Mayfair, London.

Yes, it was not exactly for youths their age to wander in, but Rowan had heard the place was divine and had promptly made sure to have reservations at the place. The three of them were served by waiters, where Rowan promptly ordered oyster soup and other meal items. It was delicious as they were starving.

The three of them happily carried on shopping and found a shop that sold the kind of swimwear that Rowan wanted. It was an exceptionally light diving suit material with an open back. It was more of a fashion statement than anything else, but it would work just fine for her. Andrew wisely stayed outside and did not dare peek inside lest he get a nosebleed at seeing Petunia pick out swimming suits to try on for herself.

By the time it was late afternoon, all three of them were tired and took a cab back to the Leaky Cauldron. Exhausted from a long day, they went straight to bed after a hot shower. Close to midnight, Rowan awoke and quietly dressed herself before closing her eyes. She immediately removed the illusion on her right eye to see.

It was amazing just how many places the Knight Bus had passed by as it drove through a magical subspace much like the floo. Luckily one of the passengers needed to be dropped off at the village of Great Hangleton. Little Hangleton was exactly six miles away from Great Hangleton. And as such, the location had been automatically been added to her mapscape along with plenty of other random stops.

It would be feasible trip via teleportation first and then by flight. With the destination of Great Hangleton in mind, Rowan made sure to leave a transfigured copy of herself in bed, just in case Petunia awoke during the night, before teleporting away.

The night air was cool when Rowan found herself on the outskirts of Great Hangleton. Glancing around in the dark to make sure no one was around; she quickly rose into the night sky and flew away. The moon was high in the sky and brightened the dark night, but the air was filled with a coolness to it despite it being summer. She shivered as she did not have a cloak on just a thin sweater.

Flying over trees and following the river, Rowan finally spotted a small town in the nearby distance. She swiftly realigned herself and flew towards the grand rundown manor on the left hill above the tiny village of Little Hangleton. In that same direction past the manor and down below the hill situated on the hill is a dark and overgrown graveyard filled with weeds and tall grass. To the right of the graveyard is the black outline of a small church visible beyond the large yew trees.

With a gentle swoosh, Rowan landed in the gloomy cemetery and reached into her mokeskin pouch. Pulling out a high-powered beam flashlight, she flicks the light on. The night surroundings instantly grew brighter as shadows flickered in the light in and around gravestones. Cautiously she blindly peers around as her eyes adjust to the light and darkness until she can see again. Still she feels a trickle of unease at the lurking darkness. Maybe it was just her, but then again, maybe it was the dead.

The graveyard was eerily silent as not even the sound of chirping insects in the night can be heard. There are no crickets nor even the buzzing of mosquitoes or the fluttering of moths. The silence was rather perturbing as Rowan stood there craning her ears and eyesight until she was certain she was alone. Then again, she was not in retrospect. The dead were all around her.