Who: Greg Goyle and OPEN! When: Friday Night Where: The streets outside Diagon Why: Goyle just got here, and he's not really the write-in-a-book-and-find-out-what's-going-on type. Rating: TBD Status: Open/Incomplete
The first thing he noticed out of place was the book and the note. He was still in his own home, there was still a leak in the corner of the ceiling he had yet to get around to patching up.
But it was supposed to be afternoon, and suddenly it was dark outside. That, and there was this book on his dresser that never was there before. Greg wasn't the kind of bloke who suddenly had books showing up around his place.
The note said something about rifts or time or sommat, but Greg's eyes drifted over it until he saw the name at the bottom. Poppy Pomfrey. He knew that name, from years ago.
It was magic. Something magic was happening.
Greg hadn't been near magic in a long time. Now and then he'd dig out his wand and make a fire if the wood was too wet to burn on its own, but other than that he didn't use it, and he didn't know any wizards anymore.
So this was bad.
He didn't know how bad until he walked out his door and found a whole different road around him. Familiar, but different. Like...something from his past. Like London, maybe.
Greg stared around him, moving off the stoop of his family house and into the road. What the buggering hell was going on, anyway?