"Scotland," I repeat, this time in a tone of hushed wonder. It isn't Castle Craig, or even my own world or time, but it is close enough. Standing here looking out the window, John's arms around me as I hold Will's hand, I just drink in the sight of a home I never thought I would see again.

"Find me something to wear," I say after a long moment. "And then take me to meet your crocodiles."

I feel rather certain that we'll be standing here gaping for longer than we ought to if somebody doesn't take charge. That they both technically far outrank me (if it matters) does not even cross my mind.