I'd been almost asleep when I felt the familiar sickening shift. Next thing I knew I was in somebody's library, walls lined with thick old books, a nice crackling fire...
And -- shit -- a man in black robes who leapt up from the wing-backed chair, pointing a polished wooden stick at me as though he could eviscerate me with the force of his will. Which, given the way he was glaring at me, maybe he could.
"You will tell me who you are and what you are doing here or I will tear you limb from limb." His voice was measured and smoky.
"Look. I'm sorry. It's not -- " I panicked. "Can I just have that blanket?" Something about being naked in front of this guy made my hair stand on end.
He stared at me, intently, then seemed to relax.
"Severus?" A quiet man with brown hair appeared in the doorway. "Is everything --" He stopped, amused, when he saw me. "Ah. Hello."
"He's a Muggle. He time-travels. He's no danger to us."
"How the hell--" I began.
The dark-haired man -- Severus -- smirked. "Go home," he said, and flicked his wand, and I rolled over and into Clare's arms.