[Harold Prendergast]

Harold had no idea what to say. He was thoroughly confused as Rose was dragging him back outside - he thought she'd said that she'd seen herself in the hedge maze, rather than the both of them, and his first instinct was to try to find out more, anything at all, about what was going on around here.

So far all he'd been able to work out is that the only reason they'd gone back in time... was because she'd seen them, and because he'd tracked that someone had moved in time.

It was difficult for him to think through it while they were headed through the hedge maze - small wonder he was distracted enough to go the wrong way through the maze.

Rose had led them back to where they needed to be and...

She'd kissed him.

And he had no words, he just stood there, staring at her, mouth agape, utterly bewildered. She'd said that the loop was complete, everything she'd seen played out as it had, so that was that.

But she'd kissed him? What, exactly, in the blazes did that mean?

He was all in a spin trying to work out what any of it meant. His mouth flapped a bit like some deranged human version of a chicken clucking - only quieter - such was his confusion. Time travel like this was something that always left him on edge because it had such potential to go very awry.

She... had kissed him?

When he could finally put some words together, he spluttered, "What the devil was that about?"

They'd need to complete the loop shortly just to round things off, but other than that, this evening had been a frightful waste of time. They'd come here, they'd learned nothing, Rose had been spooked by someone she'd rather not deal with... though he had to admit the dance wasn't a complete disaster.

Not that there would be much chance of that happening again. Not now. He thought he'd known where they stood with each other but now he had no idea, and frankly wanted nothing to do with any of it.

Coming to this ball had been a mistake. Probably so had coming to Hogwarts, but what was done, was done. He'd see the year out and consider going somewhere else. Perhaps back to the family pile for a bit. Maybe even see his brother for once.

"Come on, we just need to complete the loop and get back to quite where we started, then I rather think we should go home." Under his breath he added, not entirely politely, "Separately."

[Rose Pemberton]

Disaster. How was she even surprised? Apparently, there had been a part of her that had hoped for something else to happen. Just how dumb was she? Her anger shifted from being mad at Harold, to being mad at the situation to ultimately being mad at the root cause of their problems: herself. If only she could control her temper around him none of this would have gone so awfully wrong. She'd been right all these weeks ago when telling him that they couldn't be friends. This was only confirmation of the fact.

There was a silver lining to all of this though. Meeting with rejection would finally allow her to move on with her life. No more getting hung up on him, his lies, his time travel and his other drama. That was good, wasn't it. Her thoughts spun through her head quickly, stoking her fire, determination and resolve. She'd hold her head up high.

"Nothing," Rose snapped at him. "This was about nothing. Don't flatter yourself into thinking I looked forward to that or enjoyed it. I did what was necessary."

It was so childish, but she wanted him to feel just as frustrated and hurt as she did. It was probably the alcohol speaking. It was hardly Harold's fault that she found him attractive and felt herself drawn to him. With a clearer mind she might have realised that he had done nothing to encourage her infatuation. She'd really hurt herself, by letting herself get swept up in the romance of attending a grand ball. She was so bloody stupid and vapid. Ugh, she hated it.

Harold was suggesting they head home and really that was the first sensible thing he had suggested in a while. The sooner she could get out of here there better. Then she heard him mutter under his breath. Seperately. Oh, the gall, the audacity! Did he really think that because of one little kiss she was now ready to jump into bed with him? Gawds, he was just as big a douche as Marlowe. Why did she always fall for the worst kind of man?

"Let's complete this damn loop. I can't wait to get home - alone, thank you very much."

[Harold Prendergast]

Oh blast. He hadn't meant her to hear his views on them going home separately, let alone draw attention to it. He just wanted to be back in his room at Hogwarts, with a nice hot cup of tea, a good book and maybe feeding Bubo a treat or two. That way at least one in his life would be having a pleasant evening.

Just how had he let her talk him into this? It was a rather ridiculous situation to get embroiled in, especially since his wife was still unaccounted for with no explanations, but to be at a grand ball - in society! - with a woman that he would under all other circumstances describe as quite pretty, and in whose presence he found himself feeling supremely awkward.

He said, a little more snappishingly than he had intended it to sound, "Well, that's just peachy. Splendid. Wonderful. We just need to go retrace our steps to where we started the loop, I rewind the watch and, well, then we're done." He gestured back down the way through the hedge maze. "Shall we?"

He really had no words on how to deal with all of what had just happened. Just a sense of indignation, frustration. He just stomped off in the direction of where the loop had started. He didn't even look back at whether Rose was following, though hoped for her sake that she was.

He couldn't wait to get home and out of these blasted shoes. He suddenly wondered, idly, if his comfortable ones were where he left them, on the road. He hoped so.

[Rose Pemberton]

"Yes, let's go."

Rose followed him back to the beginning of the hedge maze as quickly as she could. Not caring about appearances anymore, the stepped out of her heels and picked them up to carry with her. The train of her dress was catching on the hedge, but she didn't care about that either. Tucking on it sharply, it came loose at last, allowing her to move forward again. The train was dragging over the ground how, getting caked in dirt.

Though it was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity until they finally reached their point of origin. The last time he'd asked her to touch him to make his fancy gadget work. She didn't feel like that anymore. Instead, she pulled her wand, turned it the wrong way around in her hand, while touching its handle to a spot on Harold's forearm. That would have to do. In theory, this wasn't about physical touch, but magical flow. A wand would facilitate that.

Under other circumstances she might have been impressed by her own academic reasoning, but right now her only focus was on getting away from Harold, this ball and her mess of a life. In her mind's eye she pictured the pear tree outside of Mrs Addington's house in Godric's Hollow. Its old branches were gnarled and twisted, but the pears were always sweet. She just wanted to be there, where she felt safe and didn't have to deal with feelings or, ugh, men.

Harold tinkered with his pocket watch and she could feel the magic taking hold. The moment they were back in the present, she could just sense it. The magical currents had shifted and relief flooded through her. Right, the pear tree. There was this spot where a wood burl looked just like a face. She pictured it and took a step forward away from Harold. With a loud crack, Rose disappeared, splinching off a piece of fabric from the train of her dress. In landed in the dirt where she had stood.

[Harold Prendergast]

The arcanium flow of the time loop completing... he felt it, it buzzed around them, and faded.

Before he could say anything, he felt the sudden inward pop of air displacing in a close proximity disapparition, and with a crack... she was gone.

All he saw was a scrap of fabric from the train of her dress, fluttering, handing off a bush. He sighed, reached down and detached it from the bush. Folding it into his pocket, along with his pocket watch.

This evening had gone rather not to plan.

He sighed again, went back in to the ball, studiously avoided both the odd chap he'd spoken to as 'Edward', and of course, Miss Mordaunt, headed back through to the cloakroom, collected his hat, and made his way back to somewhere he could safely apparate.

Glasses off, deep breath and pop - he was back at the end of the Hogwarts grounds just beyond the wards, lit by the light of the moon. His shoes were even where he'd left them, the one thing that happened this evening that actually went right.

A quick switch later and his feet were the most comfortable they'd been all evening, and perfectly suitable for the trudge back up to the castle.

"Oh, Rose," he muttered. "Whatever shall become of us?" He was acutely aware that he'd still have to interact with her unless he could find some other way of getting books into the castle. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

At least Bubo was pleased to see him when he finally arrived back in his room.