because of the colossal vitality of his illusion

[likepalegold]

There's a strange sort of energy behind him, at Gatsby's back as if heralding his exit from one world into the next. It's as if he stepped over the threshold and found himself in a new world, only he doesn't quite recall how he got here, only that he's clasping a wand in his hand, wearing a fine suit (the finest that money can buy, old sport, the very finest of them all) and his tie bears the distinguished hint of his alma mater.

Supposing he can call it that. It's hardly as if he can call Hogwarts his alma mater when, really, after the war, he'd been invited to study there, being so far from home and possessing the right blood for it, but not the right age. Still, war had displaced them and made immigrants of them all and so Gatsby feels safe calling himself a man of Hogwarts.

And what better place than Hogwarts in the 1920's, resplendent with its fineries, looking every bit the dazzling wonder that he remembers.

(Does he? Does he remember this? Surely this can't be, surely there is another world and another war and another life, but Gatsby has told himself a grand story since his earliest childhood days and despite twists and turns, they have a tendency to stick)

He shakes the self-doubt as he strides forward, towards that gleaming past. "Alohomora," he speaks the incantation, striding through the open door and into the grand hall, decorated with the finest ornamentation of the times. Perhaps Gatsby will stay a while, this time, and turn this visit into something else.

Yes, perhaps he'll start again. Perhaps this is the next chapter in his story.

Comments

[followsthewisps]

In the few weeks that Merida had been at the hotel, she was hesitant to go to the doors that weren't her own suite, or Hiccup's, keeping mainly to the hotel's grounds. If the door didn't lead her to DunBroch or Berk, she wouldn't bother, and she wouldn't go through without finding her boyfriend to travel together.

But something about this one beckoned to her. Like she could sense her homeland through that door, though it was not her clan's keep or even the right time. The wool blazer and skirt and robes were certainly not her own clothes (though she found the red and gold badge to quite her quite well), the wand in her hand wasn't truly familiar, and the spells that filled her head were not something she knew before. But the highland princess was, in a way, more home than she had been in over a year.

Merida stepped into the grand hall and was reminded briefly of her own father's throne room when set for feasting, until she looked up. Candles and crystal baubles floated above and the stars decorated the ceiling with was was clearly an enchantment that took her breath away. This had her in awe more than her first sighting of a wisp, even.

It seemed as if it was either too late or too early for any students to be around for supper, or that there was some event that would have them out of this room. But a single man in a fine suit stood ahead of her.

"Hullo?" she called out curiously.

[likepalegold]

Gatsby spins on his heel, taking in the young woman as she approaches. He really ought to not be in the hall when there are students roaming around, but he simply couldn't help the nostalgia running through his veins. "Yes, hello," he greets, clasping his hands together as he walked towards her. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion but, you see, I was in the area and I thought what better way to spend my time than to return to the place that had given me a roof for a brief burst of time, incandescent and all too short at the same time," he says, gesturing to the starlit skies above them.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite an alumni," he says. "If you couldn't tell by my accent, I'm a foreigner, but I possess the deepest of respects for your country and its sweeping cliffs," he says. "And my manners have escaped me. I'm Gatsby. How do you do?"

[followsthewisps]

"I'm actually not a student?" she hesitantly clarified, uncertain if she was intruding or not. But Merida couldn't resist a chance to be back in Scotland.

"I'm not even sure how I put on these clothes. But the door was open, and I couldn't resist."

She walked to the side of the room, touching the stone walls and looking up at the beams.

"This is quite grand. I think built after my days. It seems taller than my clan's... But you've lived here?"

[likepalegold]

"Yes," he says, but then a moment later, he says, "No," just as certainly. After all, there's a whole head of memories that speak to Hogwarts and the magical memories he'd earned from only one semester here when the war had been through and Gatsby, himself, only barely more than a boy, had discovered the education across the pond. And yet, there's something else in the back of his mind that tells of a different school in a different place.

"You see, it's the strangest thing," he says to the girl. "I can list you a formative set of experiences that I've had in this place, in this castle, and yet, I also know another life, but it takes a bit of scratching to wipe away the residue that's settled over it, like a scabbing wound."

[followsthewisps]

"There's a poetic analogy. Is that why I suddenly know spells?" Merida wonder with a scrunch of her nose. She's getting more accustomed to witnessing magical things, but having her head filled with it makes her a little... apprehensive.

"I can remember all of my life, though. Perhaps it's because I would technically be older than all this? I'm not sure. But it really is beautiful, isn't it?"

[likepalegold]

"It truly is," Gatsby says, peering upwards into that starlit sky. "Maybe if you don't feel comfortable here, we might take a walk and you can regale me with your story. I'm Gatsby," he introduces himself. "And I thought perhaps to head to Hogsmeade and remind myself of the nostalgia it carries with each breath," he says, extending an elbow to her. "Shall we?"

[followsthewisps]

The name of the township by the school echoed in her head, as if it were distantly familiar. Like the spells. But it might be nice to pretend this world was her own briefly, even if this was a land where dragons were much more dangerous beasts than the one she knew and loved to play with, and there were no Hiccup or Liberty keeping her company.

"Merida. Of Clan DunBroch," she says as she takes the gentleman's proffered arm. "I'm not uncomfortable per se. It's just... odd. I seem to be experiencing things in the reverse of what you are. I know I'm not of this place, but the spells and details of this world feel like their things I'm familiar with anyhow. Like I can sense another me that never really shot a bow, but did charms that create arrows that fire on their own instead."

[likepalegold]

It's odd, to say the least, and perhaps Gatsby ought to be more concerned with this dissonance, but it's hardly the first time he's lived with two different lives in his head (one rich and sumptuous, one dirty and worn). Still, she does have a point and perhaps that bears a sort of investigation. "To whom do you think we should alert about our little problem?" he asks, given that she's right in that it's a strange thing. "There has to be some sort of authority, doesn't there?"

[followsthewisps]

"The Headmaster?" she suggested with uncertainty. Merida remembers walking through a door, but her memories are overlapping and she can't remember what door to walk through. She knows there was one that should lead back to the hotel. But explaining that to someone might be problematic.

"Door... Dumbledore! The transfiguration professor. He might be willing to hear us out."

[likepalegold]

While Gatsby had attended, though, it hadn't been that man. It'd been someone else, but as he strains to recall it, it doesn't come to him. "I'm afraid I never had dealings with the man, but I was only here for the brief time of a single semester," he confesses. "Perhaps he'll be open to listening and to giving an opinion on the matter."

"Though," he does say, trying to entice with his tone, "perhaps a butter beer before we make our march?"