It was a quiet evening in Lamp Hollow, the name Clarence has affectionately given to his little mountain hideaway. It wasn't an official name, of course, as Clarence wouldn't dare travel to town, but it was still nice to have something to call it. Clarence Bartholomew Davis, better known as the Mothman, had isolated himself from humanity for the better part of a decade, choosing not to be seen by humanity ever since that incident with the bridge. He'd had his share of adventures throughout the multiverse, but after a parley with the Cryptid Council, he had been allowed to return home peacefully, and had lived quietly for a few weeks, enjoying his solitude. All of a sudden, just as Mothman was finishing the second chapter of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, a golden ring of light appeared in his living room. Now, Clarence was no stranger to magic. Many of his friends were Eldritch beings of phenomenal power, and he'd met some of the most powerful spell weavers in the multiverse when he was traveling the cosmos, but everyone he knew had the courtesy to open their portals outside of his home and then knock. After all, they all knew Clarence valued his privacy. So, with a bit of annoyance, he slid his bookmark into place (creasing pages should be a capital crime, in his opinion) and stood to face the ring of light. As he watched, he tested the air with his antennae and twitched in surprise. This magic smelled unfamiliar to him. It wasn't the glittery, cotton candy smell that Usually accompanied Loretta's magic (or the Tooth Fairy, as she preferred to be called), nor was it the piney, musky scent of Brandon, the Jersey Devil. Instead, this had an acrid, smoky scent, reminiscent of ozone. As Clarence pondered his observation, he heard a pair of voices with distinctly British accents floating through the gate. "Bloody hell, Harry, finish it so we can get out of here!" "Shut up and let me concentrate, planeswalking isn't easy!" "Maybe for you. I bet Hermione would have already been done and having a cup of tea by the time you got the spell out." "Quiet! I'm almost done, just give me a moment!" Clarence raised the feathered antenna that served as his eyebrow. The names rang familiar in his mind, and normally he wouldn't have given it a second thought, except he'd just finished a massive tour of the multiverse himself. He'd encountered people and brings from all sorts of places and he knew that what many would have thought impossible was merely improbable. But still, he couldn't shake a certain sense of disbelief as two young men fell through the golden portal into his living room. "See? I told you I would get it opened, but you wouldn't listen, would you, Ron?" The young man who was speaking pushed himself up onto his knees and flicked a stick towards the glowing portal. As it flickered out of existence, the room dimmed considerably, back to the firelit glow that Clarence preferred. As the first young boy looked up, his eyes met Clarence' and they both let out a yelp. For Clarence, he was looking into the eyes of a character he'd thought nonexistent. With shaggy black hair, emerald green eyes, and a distinct lightning bolt scar on his forehead, there was no mistaking the identity of one Harry Potter, which meant that the ginger still crumbled in a heap must be Ron Weasley. For Harry, he was looking up into the faceted eyes of a six foot tall moth. Ron let out a moan, breaking the strange tension. He was muttering something about being sick, but neither of the other two paid him a second thought. Clarence spoke first, having had some level of experience with multiverse travel and the dangers in not identifying yourself right away. In a slow voice, he said, "Hello there. Harry Potter, I assume? Is this your first time entering a new universe?" Harry's eyes widened in astonishment when the giant moth called him by name, and his shock-numbed fingers dropped his stick, which Clarence realized was his wand. In a shaky voice, he replied, "h-how do you know my name? Who are you?" Clarence chuckled. "You might know of me, or a version of me, in your universe called the Mothman. But you can just call me Clarence. As to how, let's just say that one man's reality is another's fiction." While Harry tried to understand this cryptic remark, Ron finally stirred. Looking up, he saw Clarence and screamed, "What the hell is that?! Harry, where did you bloody drop us?" For his part, Harry seemed to have forgotten that Ron was even there until he was jolted out of his reverie by Ron's scream. He blinked slowly, then said “Honestly Ron, I didn't have a destination. I was just looking for somewhere safe. I didn't mean to drop us in front of another monster.” At this, Clarence frowned in mild annoyance. “Actually,” he said, “we prefer the term ‘cryptid.’ Monster is a bit offensive, but I'll let it go since you're new here.” Harry's head was swimming. This was only his third attempt to planewalk, and he'd already managed to fuck it up all three times. He wasn't even sure he could get them back home. And he wasn't sure about this thing in front of him. Still, it hadn't tried to attack him yet, and that was a good sign. The last two places he'd landed had dropped him into the middle of a war zone between one side that looked human, and one side that looked like the goblins he was familiar with, but taller. He'd been trying to find out if there was a reality where his parents survived, but his concentration was terrible, and he figured that his one sidelong glance at Ron's copy of Lord of the Rings had been enough to redirect him entirely. His second attempt was a rush job, trying to get back to his own timeline, but instead, he'd wound up in a bleak future. The place once known as Hogwarts was twisted, blackened from fire and who knows what spells, and he'd managed to land in front of a team of well-armed Death Eaters and their apparently domesticated Cave Troll. This time, though, was different. The thing in front of him seemed genuinely friendly, if a bit intimidating. Harry scooped up his wand and stood, brushing the dust off of his trousers. “I'm sorry, it's just been a long day. This isn't the first time I've Planeswalked, but it is my first day. Technically, I've jumped three times now, but I'm still getting the hang of it apparently.” Ron had also gotten to his feet, and held his wand in a tight ready grip, just in case. “You can say that again. In the last four hours, I've had an arrow in my shoulder and almost got crushed by a troll. Which, by the way, would be the second time I've had to avoid death by troll. So you'll forgive me if I'm not quick to trust a giant moth guy.” Clarence sighed. If it was just Harry, this could be a quick process. But Ron might prove to be a bit of a challenge. He asked Harry, “how old are you? Are you still at Hogwarts?” Both boys flinched at the mention of the school from an outsider, since it was meant to be a secret. Before they could react, he raised his hands and said, “look, I really don't have the time to explain everything to you. For now, let's make it easy: in this multiverse, your lives are fiction books, and there are seven of them, all of which I have read at least three times. And if your actual life in any way parallels these books, then I have some ideas of what you've seen and done, and it will help me figure out how to help you. So please, are you still in school or not?” Ron's eyes were as wide as a dinner plate. “Fiction? You mean we aren't real here?” Clarence looked at him and said, “Well, maybe. Just because you exist in fiction doesn't mean you don't also exist in fact. But given that this world is a bit stingier with it's magic than most, probably not.” Harry finally spoke up and said, “Well, we graduated last year, so we aren't students, but planeswalking wasn't exactly covered at Hogwarts. Ron and I found it in an old book while we were researching time travel, and I thought I had everything figured out, but apparently not. You seem like you have experience with it, can you help us get home?” Clarence let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. “Well, I can't exactly jump, or as you call it, planewalk, on command. My adventures were less ‘adventures’ and more ‘side effects of a terrible curse,’ but I did pick up some skills while I was out. I've never been good at magic, but I did manage to learn a few things, like identifying time lines. So let's have a look, and we'll go from there. If I may, I'll need to touch you for this to work.” He extended his hand, which Harry stared at with uncertainty. Finally, he nodded and reached out, taking the Mothman’s hand. Clarence closed his eyes and began chanting a spell he had memorized. As he changed, he could feel the familiar sense of reality collapsing as he was drawn into the In Between Place. From here, he could follow all of the threads that connected the various Harrys throughout the multiverse and track down his home reality. As he watched, new threads constantly unfurled, revealing the consequences of various choices, as well as the creation of what he'd come to know as ‘fanfiction.’ He tended to avoid spending too much time following fanfiction threads, as they could often get convoluted, but he couldn't help but notice a few as he searched. Here was one where Harry was being raised by goblins, and another where he was spending time with a bunch of vampires. And… was he holding a gun in that one? Finally, Clarence honed in on one thread in particular, a faintly pulsing golden thread that indicated Harry's home reality. Tugging on it, he found himself confronted with a vision of the world this Harry had come from. Specifically, he could see the moment that Harry jumped played out again and again: Harry and Ron, standing in an empty stone room, Harry's wand pointed into open space. Harry chanting a string of Latin, his brow beaded with sweat, the air in the room starting to swirl. Harry glancing at a bookshelf to one side of the room as the familiar golden ring materialized before him. Harry and Ron jumping through with their signature brand of unearned confidence. A flash, and the scene repeated. As Clarence came out of his trance, ending the spell, he said, “I found your home timeline. Unfortunately, I can't bring you there, as that is outside of my skill set. But I know someone who can.” Walking over to a desk, he pulled out a small phone, scrolled his contacts until he found what he needed, and sent a short message. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Both Ron and Harry jumped and raised their wands, but Clarence motioned for them to relax. Opening the door, he said, “come in, Loretta. I've got someone who would very much like to meet you.”