Percy Jackson and the Locket of Salazar [Book 6]

19) What A Nice View! Beauty to our Left, and Abuse to our Right!

I knew, logically, I was standing in Dumbledore's office, with my face in a bowl, but it really felt like I was falling. It was dark, wind and mist whirling around me, and then, all of a sudden, I was standing in brilliant sunlight, my feet planted firmly on a country lane.

After a moment, Harry was standing beside me, squinting in the bright light. Dumbledore joined us, and we stared at the plump man some ten-feet-away, wearing glasses that made his eyes look tiny. He was leaning forward, examining a wooden sign sticking out of the brambles to their left.

I figured this was Bob Ogden, as he was the only person around, and this was his memory. He wore a weird combination of clothes, making it clear that he was a wizard failing miserable at disguising himself as a Muggle: a heavy fur coat over a striped bathing suit. Before I could laugh at him, he set off down the road.

As we passed by the sign, I glanced at the two separate directions on it: five miles to the left was Great Hangleton; following Ogden, we would reach Little Hangleton in a mile.

It was actually a rather nice walk. The sky was blue, the temperature nice, and the hedgerows lining the road rustled slightly in the light breeze. The only thing ruining the picturesque moment was the fact that we were following a man in his memory, Harry and I unsure of what we would be seeing or why we were even there.

The lane sloped to the left and dipped down, curving us so that we had a unobstructed view of a magnificent valley laid out before us; in the middle of that valley was a village, certainly Little Hangleton, with its church and graveyard being closest to us. On the opposite hillside of the valley sat a glorious manor.

Ogden was now trotting down the hillside, and we quickened our pace to keep up. The lane turned again, this time to the right, and we found that Ogden was disappearing into a gap in the hedges.

"This is creep behavior," I said lightly, trailing after the man onto a small, dirt path. It was wilder than the lane we'd been on, rocks and potholes impeding our travels. "We're following this poor, unsuspecting man into an area with no people. Are we gonna commit a murder? If so, can I have coat? He won't need it anymore."

"This is just a memory, Mr. Jackson," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid we cannot affect what has already happened; not without the aid of time travel, at least."

"That's cool and all, but where can I find that coat? I want it."

Unfortunately, Dumbledore could not answer my question about the coat, as Ogden had stopped and drawn his wand at the end of the path. There was a building hidden amongst the trees, shrouded in shadows cast by the dark leaves. It seemed to be an odd place to live, unless you wanted to be out of the way of humanity, which was, honestly, fair. The house seemed a poor place to live, tiles falling off the ceiling and the walls covered with moss, but then a window slid open, and a thin stream of smoke billowed out.

Ogden moved forward quietly and cautiously, a nervous look on his face.

"Dude, that's wild," I said, leaning over Ogden's shoulder and peering at the door before which he'd stopped. Someone had nailed a dead snake to the front of it.

I looked up, hearing the movement just in time to watch a man in rags drop from a nearby tree. He landed directly in front of Ogden, startling the man so bad he stumbled on the ends of his coat.

The man hissed strangely, yet the sound was familiar: Parseltongue. His hair was so dirty and matted that I couldn't be sure what color it was. He was missing several of his teeth, and his small, dark eyes were pointed in opposite directions. He looked like he didn't not what a bath was, and that scared me.

"Er — good morning, I'm from the Ministry of Magic —"

The man hissed again.

Ogden took a few steps backward. "Er — I'm sorry — I don't understand you."