Chapter 1 Where the Hell are We?

"Where are we going, Dahlia?" educator Artimus Rogue asked the sorceress as they rode through the forest.

He was dressed in black jeans, brown riding boots, a gray button up shirt, and a black traveling cloak. Dahlia was in a white beaded tunic, blue jeans and comfortable walking shoes. Her long brown hair was loose and tumbling over her shoulders. Both were riding horses and had their wands tucked into their waistbands.

The first rays of the sun were breaking over the horizon and they were approaching a glen where several puddles sparkled. The ever-present Fey were already there, cavorting and dancing, leprechauns playing fiddles, kobolds beating on drums, tiny fairies flitting about, and naked nymphs shaking their pert bottoms.

Dahlia slung her long brown hair back, and looked over her shoulder at him.

"I thought we'd visit England," she said with a smile. "We never go there."

Artimus snorted, rolling his dark eyes.

"We don't go there because it's 'bloody' boring," he growled. "And I hate tea. At least hot tea."

"There's more than tea in England," Dahlia replied with a smirk.

"Oh, I forgot about the bland food," the sorcerer replied, scowling.

"Listen, every time we travel, we don't have to be camping out in the middle of a jungle, or climbing some mountain or hunting something, Artimus. I want to see some culture," Dahlia said.

"I agree," Artimus' horse Steede chimed in, "it would be nice to go someplace where there wasn't something with fangs waiting to tear me apart."

"Steede, you've never come close to being eaten by anything," Artimus said to the black stallion. "Besides, Dahlia's horse never complains."

Steede's ears laid back as he looked at the beautiful white stallion running beside him with distaste.

"That's because he's not a horse. He's a construct. If he gets killed, Dahlia can just make him again. You don't have that luxury and neither do I, Artimus. It's easy to be fearless when you don't have to worry about dying," the familiar replied disdainfully.

"Aw, but Steede, you're fearless," Dahlia said soothingly.

"No. I'm courageous, not fearless. There's a difference. Anyway, I think going someplace that's actually civilized is a good idea. Thank you, Dahlia," Steede said as Artimus grumbled something under his breath.

Steede was feeling uncomfortable because Artimus didn't put on his leather girding with the spikes like he normally did. The horse always felt safe when he had that added protection. Without it, he felt rather naked. But today was supposed to be a day of pleasure. They weren't expecting to battle clerics. Still, the horse would have liked to have had his protection.

As they approached a puddle, the familiar shimmer that bridged the magical realm and the mundane world formed.

"I'll go first," Artimus said, passing Dahlia and disappearing through the shimmer. The sorceress followed.

They emerged on the other side, and Artimus reigned Steede in as Dahlia appeared beside him. They were in a forest. A rather dark one. It felt rather ominous.

"Hm, I wonder where we are," Dahlia asked.

A screech sounded from the right and Steede started, rearing slightly.

"Calm down, Steede," Artimus said, drawing his wand, his dark eyes scanning the dark woods.

"This forest is certainly forbidding," Dahlia breathed. "Let's find a way out."

"Stay close," Artimus said, goading the nervous Steede forward. Dahlia followed.

The forest was extremely dark, only flashes of blue appearing through the foliage overhead. Strange sounds, clicks and cries rang out as they moved through the trees. Steede's nostrils flared.

"I smell things," the horse neighed, "and they aren't Fey."

"Just stay calm, Steede. I've got you covered," Artimus said, absently patting his neck as his eyes shifted back and forth.

Dahlia constantly looked behind her. She had the feeling of being watched. Presently, the trees began to thin and the foliage give way to coarse grass. There was an outcrop of rocks ahead, with a rather large, dark fissure in the stone and they slowly walked toward it.

"I don't like the way this place smells," Steede said, whipping his head about nervously, "it smells like death."

Artimus didn't say anything, but it was quiet here. Very quiet as if nothing lived in the area. After the activity in the deeper woods, he found this rather strange. Dahlia rode beside him, her hazel eyes wide and shifting. The uneasy feeling she had in the forest was even worse here.

Suddenly something dropped from a tree, landing on Steede's neck. It was a rather large spider.

"Get it off me!" Steede cried, rearing and panicked as the spider scuttled over him.

Artimus smashed it, surprised when it let out a scream.

Dahlia blinked as the crushed carcass fell to the ground.

"Screaming spiders?" she said to Artimus, who wiped his leather riding glove on his black jeans.

"Strange. I've never heard of such a creature," Artimus said.

He held a doctorate in biology and was quite familiar with Entomology although technically spiders weren't insects, but arachnids.

"Is this England?" Dahlia asked him. "It doesn't seem like it."

Suddenly Steede neighed in terror, rearing fully now, his eyes wide and the whites showing, before he spun and took off, carrying Artimus with him and startling Dahlia's stallion into a run.

"Steede! What the hell is wrong with you?" Artimus cried, trying fruitlessly to bring the terrified horse to a stop as he flew through the trees. The sorcerer had to duck several times to keep from being dislodged by low limbs. Dahlia raced behind him, leaning low on her horse.

"Look behind us!" Steede screamed, his hooves flying.

Artimus looked behind him and his heart nearly stopped before he yelled at Steede to go faster.

They were being chased by enormous spiders. Fast ones.

"Shit!" Dahlia hissed as she dug her heels into her stallion's flanks. The beast leaped forward, catching up to Steede and Artimus, who were fully in the wind, Artimus' brown hair streaming, his cloak billowing behind him as the spiders pursued.

Dahlia could only think that the little spider's death cry had called his brothers. And what big brothers they were.

Why did she ever say she wanted to visit England? The Serengeti would have been much safer! But . . . this couldn't be England. There were no spiders like this in the normal world or in the magical realm.

Where the hell were they?

Hagrid was busily sweeping out his hut with an oversized broom, dust filling the air and landing in his whiskery beard. He sneezed, and waved the cloud of motes away from him. He turned and looked at the floor of his domicile.

"That ought ta last a few weeks," he said, placing the broom inside, walking down the steps and thumping his chest with both huge fists, breathing in the crisp morning air. He smiled as he watched a few students circle the turrets of Hogwarts on brooms, led by Madam Hooch. He scratched his head, causing a few Flitlicks to pop off of it, then turned to go back inside to get the day's lesson plan for his Care of Magical Creatures class when suddenly he heard the pounding of hoof beats coming from the forest behind his hut.

"Wots tha?" he said, scowling as he walked out a ways.

Suddenly Artimus and Dahlia burst from between the trees, flying past Hagrid in full run as if the devil himself was on their heels.

"Hey thar! Wot are yeh doing on Hogwarts grounds?" the half-giant called after them.

Both Artimus and Dahlia reined to a halt, wheeling around and studying the forest wide-eyed. The Acromantula didn't dare leave the Forbidden Forest and gave up the chase the moment the sorcerers emerged, heading back to their cave with empty mandibles. Both of them then looked at Hagrid.

"Cletus, he's huge!" Dahlia breathed as Hagrid trundled up to them frowning. He was almost the same height as Artimus on his horse. Steede nervously backed up. This was the biggest man he'd ever seen.

"Who let yeh in 'ere?" Hagrid demanded, eyeing the wands tucked in their waists.

"No one. We arrived at sunrise," Artimus said, frowning at the half-giant. "What are you?"

Hagrid was taken aback.

"Wot am I? You mean 'who' am I. I'm Hagrid and I teach 'ere at Hogwarts, and yeh got no business on the grounds! Yeh hafta be let in! Now, how'd yeh get in 'ere?" the half-giant growled.

"Hogwarts?" Artimus said, looking perplexed. "What's Hogwarts?"

Suddenly, he felt Dahlia tap him on the shoulder. He looked at her. She was staring at something, her full mouth partially open.

"I . . . I think that's Hogwarts," she said in amazement as she looked at the huge castle. "Are those people flying on . . . brooms?"

Artimus stared. Yes, there were people flying on brooms around the turrets. Brooms? Flying brooms were . . . were fairytales. This couldn't possibly be real . . . could it?

Hagrid blinked at the both of them, realizing they didn't know what Hogwarts was.

"What kind of witch and wizard are yeh not to know 'bout Hogwarts?" the giant asked them. Both Artimus and Dahlia looked at him.

"We're not wizards or witches," Artimus informed him, looking back toward the castle.

"No, we're sorcerers," Dahlia said as Hagrid looked at both of them in amazement.

Sorcerers? At Hogwarts?

He was going to have to take them to Headmaster Snape.

He'd know what to do.

A/N: Well, this was an idea I came up with. Don't know if I'll pursue it, but I haven't been writing the past couple of days, and even this was a real effort.

A/N/N: A shout out and thanks to Duj, who gave me a list of Hagridisms. lol. Bless yer 'eart! :)