Far From Home

48 hours later
Tune Hotel Westminster
London, England

The flight was terrible, as most oversea flights tended to be. The ride was bumby, the people were rude, the food was retched, and the flight attendants were half-asleep. When Sharon Rooke, Andrea Barrow, Morgan Roberts, and Selena Gonzalez arrived at their hotel room after eating a quick lunch at the local café, they were jetlagged to the worst degree and decidedly grumpy. But that didn’t stop Sharon from flirting with the desk attendant or the door holder or the bartender or the waiter. And it certaintly didn’t stop her from being invited to a late-night party downtown or from attempting to entice her friends into joining her.

Morgan and Selena were easily swayed and had quickly thrown on outfits appropriate for a party. They waited outside the hotel room doors as Sharon replaced her quiet jewelry from the plane ride with some gaudy beadings that fit a night of partying. Andrea would have nothing of this party idea and stayed in her comfortable jeans and tee-shirt.

“We’re only here for two weeks. We have to party while we can,” Sharon would exclaim and Andrea would ignore.

“Yes,” Andrea agreed whole-heartidly. “We’re here for two weeks. So we have plenty of nights for you to force me into the London underworld. Give me one more night without it. Go with Selena and Morgan.”

Sharon turned to make sure Selena and Morgan were far enough way – them having their own conversation outside the doorway as they waited for Sharon – to not overhear her next words. “Selena and Morgan are no fun. Selena wont drink and Morgan won’t dance. And you can hardly consider them good company.” She pulled on Andrea’s arm until they were face to face. “I need you to make this night fun.”

“No. You don’t.” Andrea pulled her arm away and returned to unpacking her suitcase, the job she had been doing before Selena so rudely interrupted her.

Sharon groaned, frustrated. “You can be such a spoil-sport.”

Andrea smiled. Sharon’s lack of a new argument ment Andrea had gotten her way and soon the hotel would have peace and quiet.

“What is this?” Sharon cried mockingly after only a minute of silence. Andrea turned her way to see Andrea waving a familiar looking book around with a look of exasperation on her face. “Do you mean to tell me you came all the way to London to re-read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows? Honestly, is it the only book you own. You’re always reading it.”

Andrea frowned and pulled the book away from Sharon’s prying hands. “For your information, I happen to enjoy this book. So, yes, I brought it to London; and after you leave I might even read a few chapters of it before heading to bed.”

Sharon pulled the book back from Andrea’s hands. “Are you or are you not Andrea Barrow?” she asked. “Do you have photographic memory? The Andrea Barrow I know does.” She opened the book to a random page. “Tell me, Andrea Barrow, what are the first words of Chapter 28?”

Andrea rolled her eyes and reached for the book again. Sharon, being taller than her by at least six inches kept it well out of her reach. “Give it back, Sharon.”

“What does it say?” she repeated. “Tell me and I’ll hand it over.”

Andrea groaned. “‘Harry’s feet touched road.’ Now give it back.”

“Alright, alright,” Sharon sighed and handed it over. “But you get my point, don’t you? You’ve read it plenty. And one day you’ll have to live a little; you won’t always be able to live vicariously through me or your books.”

Andrea rolled her eyes, having heard this speech almost as much as she’d heard her mother’s “I don’t like your friends” speech. “All you’ve proved is that I still have photographic memory,” she challenged.

“If you say so,” Sharon sang softly, heading towards the door. “Just remember what I said. We can’t all live in little boxes.”

Andrea wanted to protest, but the door had closed behind Sharon before she could. After a moment, she looked down at the innocent book in her hands. It was the finale of her favorite book series and a rather tragic one at that. With the last movie finishing it’s movie theatre debut, Andrea found herself reading and rereading the Harry Potter books quite often, even though she – as Sharon pointed out – had easily memorized them on the first read. Something about the books just didn’t set right with her. Like the story wasn’t quite done.

With that thought, a now-familiar chill passed down her neck and Andrea decided she really had to stop freaking herself out like that.

“Pull yourself together, Andrea,” she told herself, her throat feeling suddenly tight and dry. With a burst of energy and an annoyed shake of her head, Andrea moved to the complimentary mini-fridge and pulled out one of the waters from inside. Somehow, Andrea had to get over this feeling she had going. The last thing she needed was silly emotion-filled thoughts on fiction books that had no place in her reality.

She took a long swig of the water and returned to sit on her bed.

London would be good for her. Tomorrow she could take a trip to the Abbey or the Tower or the Big Ben. Anything to get her mind off other thoughts. But as she took another swig of the water, her eyes grew unnaturally drousy and it wasn’t long before Andrea had laid out on her hotel bed.

She never saw the man in her room or the twirl of the wand as she was transported through time and space.