He paced across the room in muted ption.

  One month?

  One month had passed sihe street gang i? … And… and all that time, he had been unscious?

  Magnus’ hands bed through his face as if trying to firm it was still his.

  "I wish there was a mirror in here," he grumbled as he sed the room for the umpteenth time.

  "Oh… there is o look gloomy now… step this way, dearling, let me have a look before that old nag returns… Oh heavens, I am so tired of his grumpy voice… my his, my eyes that… and would you look at my robes? ‘Won’t Penina like them?’ I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just blended into the wall."

  Magnus’ mouth e as he listeo a mirror talk.

  If he had any doubt, then they flew right out of his mind.

  Talking mirrors? … definitely Harry Potter.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out who it was pining about. It ced on a wall that overlooked the talking portrait.

  Feeling dumbfounded, Magnus stepped in front of the mirror.

  "Oh dear… I hate to agree with that nag, but you do look like you were kissed by a Dementor."

  The face that stared back at him ale, alright… pale but still his.

  He sighed in relief.

  "Do you know how I got here?" Magnus addressed his own refle, silently hoping the mirror could shed a little more light.

  "You heard that old fool, dear… I should think you blew yourself up with actal magic. But really, it’s more than my worth… you might want to read that clipboard at the foot of the bed."

  Magnus spun around and saw it.

  He must have missed it due to the pce it had been positioned.

  Throbbing with excitement, he retrieved the clipboard and sed through it:

  Patient Name: Unknown (no information found in the Ministry’s registry).

  Patieails: Brought in by the Ministry, Department of Actal Magic. The Ministry detected the use of underage magid on arrival, the officials found the patient unscious in a muggle street in Leicester. It is believed the patient actally hurt himself from actal magic, rendering him unscious.

  Healer: Flora t

  Attending sey: Elsy

  His mind was reeling in fusion. Why… it seemed that this pce was just as mixed up as his thoughts.

  I mean, if he was in a Harry Potter world, then what in the name of everything was a sey doing here?

  A sey was a bloody Pokémon, wasn’t it?

  "So where the hell am I? Harry Potter or Pokémon world?"

  "Nosing around, are we?"

  Magnus, standing at the ter of the room with the clipboard still in his hand, was shocked by the sudden voice.

  He was startled to see that the man was ba the portrait, once more scrutinizing him disapprovingly.

  Surprisingly, he felt relief at the sight of aalking being, even though it was one in a picture.

  I mean, weird as it ortraits in the Harry Potter world still had enough sd logic like that of their owner. So, at the very least, the man could answer some of his flooding questions.

  "Hey, I ask you something?" Magnus began, ign the man’s pierg gaze.

  The portrait did not answer, but Magnus could see its eyes shining with curiosity.

  He went on without waiting for the go-ahead.

  "Pok… Pokémon…" Magnus stammered and then stopped to see if the word had any familiarity to the man.

  The guy appeared to have been waiting fnus to finish his question because he suddenly looked at him impatiently.

  "What about them?" he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  Magnus began to feel a kind of excitement welling inside him, but he held it at bay. He o ascertain facts first.

  "So you know them, right?"

  "What do you mean if I know them? Everyone knows Pokémon, don’t they?"

  The guy sounded irritated, but Magnus ig.

  He was too excited to care. He moved on to the point.

  "And you were a wizard, right?"

  That question, however, seemed to be the limit of the man’s patience.

  "And just what am I now? A bleating goat?"

  Magnus suddenly regretted his ck of tact. He had used the past tense, assuming the man robably dead like so many portraits he had seen in the films in the Hogwarts Headmaster’s office.

  The thing was, even if he was right and the man was indeed dead, such portraits never liked being reminded of that fact. It was often a touchy topic.

  "Oh, ah… I am sorry," he stammered apologetically. "What I meant was you were… I mean you are a wizard, right? I mean you could… you do magid all, you know?"

  Too te! The portrait was pletely indifferent now and had resumed its inal posture, like it was just a normal picture.

  "Damn it," Magnus swore in frustration.

  Just then, he heard footsteps right outside his door, seds before it flew open.

  "Did I hear someone swearing?"

  The person behind that feminine voice was yet anure dressed in simir robes like the man in the portrait.

  Now that Magnus had time to piee details together, he khese were healer’s robes.

  This robably the person the portrait had goo alert.

  Their eyes locked, and for a sed, she looked both surprised aed.

  Her gaze momentarily rose toward the portrait before falling ba him.

  "Uuh… finally awake, I see," she said, l her thick, rounded gsses and staring above them.

  Magnus almost ughed. I mean, the whole point of wearing gsses was to see clearly.

  "Put that away a back to bed," the dy—or rather the witch, as he now knew who they were—said sternly, indig the clipboard still in his hand.

  Magnus was about to ply when he suddenly froze. His eyes were fixed right o the witch’s left foot, where a tiny oval-shaped creature had appeared.

  Its distinct shape, coupled with a pouch that held several glowing objects, was enough to make his mind reel.

  "But… but this is insane," he began, indig the creature. The witch gred at him above her lsses.

  "That’s a sey, right? … That’s a Pokémon."

  "Koook," the tiny creature croaked as if to answer his question. The dy, however, looked ued, as if what he had just said was something a toddler would know.

  "e on now… back to bed," she said, shooing him.

  Still looking fused, Magnus backed toward the bed, his eyes fixated on the sey, which was also eyeing him with unnerving calm.

  What oh was happening? Magnus felt the progress he had been making a short while ago shatter, plunging him into even more chaos.

  "What are Pokémon doing in the Harry Potter world?" Magnus mumbled to himself.

  The healer, who had approached his bed, seemed to have heard his question. She suddenly stopped and gave him a look simir to the ohe man in the portrait had given him when he had asked whether he was a wizard.

  "Well… Harry is a hero and all, but really… the world hardly belongs to him, dear," she said as she grabbed the clipboard from him aly pushed him back

  He wao protest against whatever the dy was about to do to him, but remembering what he had read on the clipboard, he allowed himself to fall ba the soft pillow.

  Besides, if he was cooperative, she might actually ahe questions buzzing inside his mind.

  "Elsy," she said encingly, and the sey cooed before jumping onto the bed right o him.

  Strangely, Magnus's instinct to pull away cautiously disappeared as a strong calm filled him.

  The sey had reached within its poud pced one of the glowing orbs on his chest.

  Slowly, all the small pain, tension, and strain cleared away.

  Well, this was different from what happened in the Pokémon world. I mean, yes, he knew seys had such effects on patients, but the egg… well, people normally ate the eggs for nutrition. It seemed, however, that in this alternate Harry Potter world, that did not happen.

  "Okay, kid, what's your he healer asked, and suddenly the clipboard swooped o her, and a quick quill hovered above it.

  Suddenly, Magnus recalled what he had read on the clipboard.

  They did not know his details, as there was no record of him in the Ministry of Magic registry.

  Magnus had hoped that by calming down and cooperating, he would at least get the ce to ask his questions, but clearly, it didn't look like it.

  If anyone was answering anything here, it was definitely him...

  But what would he tell them... that he... he was not from this world… that where he came from, all of this was not even a thing? I mean, everything was a work of fi... someone’s imagination?

  He remembered the almost expet look the man in the portrait had given him as well as the mumbled diagnosis.

  They had been expeg him to behave madly or something, as if the actal magic he had used had affected his brains.

  If he started blubbering such crap, he would soon find himself shifted to the mental department. And not knowing your name was one of those signs.

  "Magnus."

  The witch looked up suddenly from the clipboard expetly, and he knew she was waiting for the surname.

  "I don't know," Magnus said ftly.

  "You don't know your name?" She gave him a long, searg look, like she was waiting for him to expin further, but Magnus didn’t.

  He was fog on shutting his thoughts as hard as he could.

  What if this healer was a Legilimens? What if she, in fact, only o look into his thoughts to see the truth?

  Well, there was a silver lining about that. At least she would believe his story... but then the dark part was that the story itself appeared so far-fetched that to anyone here, it would still be seen as though his mind was delusional. Either way, the destination would still be the mental ward.

  A sudden cough from the portrait man saved him from the pierg scrutiny of the witch as she redirected her attention to him instead.

  "You are urgently required in the main ward, Flora," the man said, his gaze on him rather than the person he was addressing.

  Magnus felt his spirit lift on hearing the statement.

  "Thank you, on my way." She looked quite relieved to be off his case, which made it two of them.

  Because at that moment, Magnus was asking himself a strange question.

  'How does one escape from a magical hospital?'

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