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Chapter Text

It was a miserable rainy day in Market Chipping, and despite the popularity of H. Jenkins’ flower shop there were not many customers willing to brave the downpour.

It suited Sophie just fine- after the first few hours of the tempest, she had given Michael the day off, and focused her efforts on maintaining what stock they had. No point in making new arrangements, not if the weather continued on like this. So Sophie, content to relax and coax a few more days of freshness out of the camellias, spent the afternoon in blissful silence, other than her own whispers of encouragement.

“Truthfully,” she said to no one in particular, “we ought to start selling living potted plants for situations like this. Not that you aren't ephemerally lovely, my dears.” She nodded at a vase of twinkling daffodils.

“Ephemerally lovely is exactly how I’d describe this place,” said an unfamiliar voice. Sophie jumped. She hadn't heard the bell ring.

The man at the counter had short, choppy black hair that looked like he had cut it himself, a small pointy nose, and a gaudy blue shirt with glittering white jewels sewn in. His pants were wide in the leg in a style that Sophie found absolutely ridiculous. Worst of all, he was completely dry despite the pouring rain. No umbrella.

Definitely another wizard, she thought. As if there weren't enough of those running around Ingary.

“Is H. Jenkins in?” the wizard asked, excessively casually.

“She is,” Sophie replied brightly. “Harriet Jenkins, at your service. We’re running a rainy day special, so let me know if anything catches your interest.”

“Hmmm.” The man pressed his lips together. “And the name Pendragon means nothing to you, I suppose.”

“Unfortunately not. I do have a lovely snapdragon arrangement for sale.” Sophie willed her facial expression into a smile she’d seen Martha wear at the bakery. Whoever this wizard was, she thought it best to assume the worst, until inevitably Howl got annoyed with her for not recognizing one of his old friends from such-and-such.

“Mhmm,” the wizard hummed, tugging at the strings of his flamboyant shirt. “Alright then. It was lovely meeting you, Hattie-”

“Harriet,” Sophie serenely corrected him.

“Good day. Stay dry.”

It didn't escape Sophie’s notice that he had left a sealed envelope tucked between two vases on the countertop. By now she knew much better than to bring it back into the castle- she had made that mistake before with a letter from one of Howl’s magical ex-lovers and had to chase a hundred frogs out while Calcifer cackled.

No, if she was going to open this letter addressed to H. Jenkins, it would be here, on her own terms, with her own magic. She put on a sturdy wide-brimmed hat and took the letter into the courtyard to inspect it, so that the frogs could at least enjoy the weather.

The envelope was black, with a gaudy gold seal and Howl’s pseudonym written in shimmering cursive on the front. It was every bit as dramatic and mysterious as the man who had delivered it- as Howl was, in fact. Sophie gingerly slid her finger under the paper and broke the wax seal.

Nothing happened.

She let out a long breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, and gently pulled the letter out. It was written on black paper with the same annoyingly shiny gold ink, and almost impossible to read.

Perhaps if she hadn't been so curious, she might have stopped there- and maybe she ought to have, but in fairness, she had introduced herself as Harriet Jenkins, and the wizard had chosen to leave the letter there anyways. Perhaps it had been simply meant for the proprietor of the flower shop.

A few distractingly brilliant words in, and Sophie quickly learned that was not the case.

Howell,

I’ve penned this letter in light of your recent marriage. The poor woman! She must be entirely unaware of your cruelty and your cold disposition. 

I suppose it goes without saying that the promises you made me on that night under the stars are as broken as my aching heart. (Sophie rolled her eyes at this.)

If I truly am doomed to spend my life forever dwelling in the past, I see no reason not to share my misery with you. Perhaps you will find me to your liking this time around, or the next. Hearts change, they say, if you do indeed possess one.

By the time you’ve read this far, Howl, my spell will have bound you as tightly as the vice of commitment you find yourself trapped in now. But then, you never were a stranger to vices.

Until we meet again,

Forever yours,

Cosimo

Sophie blinked. The letter wasn't anything terribly out of the ordinary, though it was admirably passive-aggressive. Whatever the spell was, it didn't seem to have worked- she was still out in the rain, soaked wherever her hat didn't cover her.

Well, perhaps Howl would get a laugh out of it when he came back from whatever royal business he was tasked with this week. She trudged back into the shop and put the letter with her other things, then turned the sign to CLOSED and went to change out of her drab wet dress.

The door to the castle opened into darkness, and Sophie slammed it behind her, ready to relax.

“Calcifer,” she called. “A little light, please.”

No answer, and what she had assumed was a rather nasty draft kicked up into a furious wind.

Horrified, she felt for the door behind her, and unsurprisingly found nothing.

There was no way but forward. The darkness faded around her fairly quickly, giving way to a row of houses, all yellow brick with greying wooden fences that seemed to match the darkening sky. What Sophie had assumed were the stone steps of the castle beneath her boots were actually large, flat, even paving stones that lined a hard black road.

This was immediately recognizable as Howl’s other world, the one where his family lived, which gave Sophie some small relief. At least if she had been spirited away to a strange land, she knew she could understand most of the language and that Howl could probably eventually find her.

However, the street looked just as unfamiliar as the first time she'd come, and she couldn't recognize any of the houses.

Above her, the sky groaned and growled as though it had an empty stomach. Rain. If there was one thing Sophie was sick of after today, it was rain.

Alright, then. She would find a shop or someplace to stay dry and ask where Howl lived. Then, she would ask Megan and Gareth if she could stay with them until Howl figured out where she was.

It wasn't much of a curse, as far as curses went, she thought smugly to herself as her heels clicked against the too-flat pavement. And anyways, it might be fun to look after Howl’s nephews and help Megan around the house while she waited.

The first place Sophie came to was a small grocery, and the girl behind the counter took such pity on her that for a moment she believed she had transformed into an old woman again.

She was in a sorry state, having climbed up a horribly steep hill to get to the shops, and her lungs hurt worse than her feet. It had started raining, of course, and for the second time that day she was absolutely drenched, without her enchanted hat to protect her from the worst of it.

“I’m fine, dear,” she assured the woman between labored breaths. “But you wouldn't happen to know where Howell Jenkins lives?”

The girl stiffened, and an old man who had been perusing a rack of thin, glossy books laughed far louder than was polite.

“Another one, eh? ‘Round this time, you’ll find him down at the Royal Oak.”

“Forget Howl,” the girl said, frowning, and rummaged around behind the counter for a moment. “Trust me, it's better if you just move on quickly. He dumps every girlfriend of his- you haven't got a snowball’s chance.”

“I’m his wife,” Sophie said, flatly, and the old man laughed again.

“Then I really do pity you.” The girl pulled out a small, heavy bundle of folded yellow cloth, and handed it to Sophie. “Take this with you. My boyfriend is picking me up later.”

“What is it?”

“It's an umbrella,” the girl said, frowning.

“Oh. Thank you.” Not wanting to answer any more uncomfortable questions, Sophie bowed slightly and left, only slightly startled by the glass door sliding open to let her pass.

Sophie struggled with the umbrella as she hovered outside the tavern door. It was a relief that she had correctly guessed Howl was out drinking. She would have been incredibly cross if she’d had to enlist the aid of a princely tree to continue her journey onward.

“Can't you just fold in on yourself again?” she muttered at the umbrella, and to her surprise it obeyed. Aha! So her magic still worked in this strange, backwards place, where carriages drove without horses and doors opened without bothering to ask whether you wanted to enter.

This door, at least, politely waited for her to tug on its handle, and she stepped through into the warm, noisy atmosphere, glad to be out of the wind and the rain.

Howl was easy to spot, though he looked rather sickly and unkempt. Perhaps Cosimo, whoever he was, had managed to curse him, too. His hair was a stringy brownish black, the color of mud, and he wore a ratty grey sweater with a hood. Sophie felt concerned for him, until she realized what he was busy with.

“Where did you say you were from?” he was saying to the beautiful woman seated next to him.

“Leeds,” she said in a beautiful accent. Her hair was the color of straw spun into gold, and she wore a short jacket the same ruby red as the rouge adorning her beautiful lips.

“Oh! Exotic,” Howl purred, and apparently what he’d said was quite funny, because the woman scrunched her face up and let a puff of air out of her beautiful nostrils.

That was enough of that, Sophie thought, and she stormed up to him, holding the wadded-up umbrella like a club.

“Excuse me, Howl,” she said through gritted teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What?” Howl’s brows pulled together. “Do I know you?”

“I’m sorry,” she nodded at the woman. “You’re devastatingly lovely, but I’m afraid this one is spoken for, and I’d rather not share him.” Better not to inflict him on the rest of the world, Sophie thought viciously.

“Great.” The woman's beautiful features flattened, and she sighed, getting out of her stool and not bothering to look back at the pair of them.

“Wait- what?” Howl, confused, looked between Sophie and the woman. “Who the hell are you? What is this?”

“Only your wife, who you’ve been married to for half a year,” Sophie hissed, “and this is me telling you to snap out of your curse and take us both home this instant.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Howl said, grabbing his drink and clambering out of his seat. “I’m not married, and if I was, it wouldn't be to someone as plain and shrewish as you. That gwenny old dress isn't doing you any favors, either.”

“If you’re really not under a curse, Howl, I swear I’ll put you under one myself.” Sophie took a deep breath, handling her indignant rage incredibly well considering the circumstances. “What am I saying- of course you must be! Look at the state of you. You can't have slept a wink for the past week.”

“Well… yeah,” Howl said. “I’m working on my thesis. Actually- I don't know why I’m humoring you. Did Pat put you up to this? Poor thing. Look, whatever he's paid you, I’ll give you double to tell the girl over there it was all just a practical joke.”

“It isn't a joke,” Sophie insisted, although she was tempted to take the money and try to find her way back to the house on her own. “I’m your wife, and we’re both under a curse. Maybe you don't remember me, but I remember you. In our world, in Ingary, you’re a wizard, and you lost your heart in a deal with a falling star, and…” She could tell she was losing him. “Alright. If you don't believe me, I’ll prove it.”

Howl glanced over his shoulder at the woman in the red jacket, who was now pointedly ignoring him.

“Alright, fine. At this point, I’m just curious what Pat’s got in store for me.”

“Take me to your carriage, where we can talk in private. I’m not certain we’re safe here.”

“My… car?” Howl sighed and pulled out his keys, leaving his half-empty glass on the table. “If it's full of packing peanuts again, I’ll kill him.”

“Please don't take us anywhere quite yet,” Sophie said quickly as Howl turned the key in the metal slot and the carriage sputtered to life. “I’m nauseous just sitting here.”

“I don't plan on it,” Howl assured her flatly. “I’m cold and my night is ruined. You have about a minute and a half before I kick you out of here, drive home, and pass out.”

“Howl, if you’ve truly lost your memories…” Sophie tried desperately to think of anything that might help her avoid being tossed out in the cold again. “I know you. You have a mole on your left shoulder that you hate and I love, and you’re a horrible coward who can't help slithering out of things, but you have a good heart when it happens to be in your body.”

“Right, get out.”

“No!” She waved her hands. “You study magic, don't you? At your old school in Wales? And you’re staying with your sister Megan and her husband Gareth and their children.”

“Pat didn't send you, did he? Are you stalking me?”

“If you would just listen to me-” The rattling of the metal carriage was too much for Sophie, and she turned her wrath towards it. “Will you stop that infernal squeaking!”

The carriage died and fell silent, its lights dimming.

“Wha-” Howl turned the key back and forth a few times, then slammed his head against the wheel. He let out a curse in his native tongue, and Sophie felt a little horrible.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to kill your carriage.”

“You did this?” Howl looked at her in disbelief.

“Yes, and I apologize. It was just too loud for me to think, and so I didn't, and-”

“Okay.” He sighed, gesturing at the wheel. “I still don't entirely believe you, but maybe you can help me with my research.”

“That sounds fair,” Sophie nodded. “I’ll help you, and you can help me, and maybe you’ll regain your memories- and your manners- along the way.”

“Sure, sure. If you can get the car running again, I’ll take you back to my study and we can get everything ironed out.”

“Alright.” Sophie drew in a deep breath, instantly regretting her promise, and aimed her most repentant look at the wheel of the carriage. “I’m sorry to have yelled at you. You are a strong, healthy car and I know you can wake up again and carry us to Howl’s study.” After a few moments of silence and some doubtful glances from Howl, she raised her voice, desperate. “Fly, you damned thing!”

The car rose a few feet into the air, then smattered against the pavement with a petulant screech that gathered the attention of the patrons hovering outside the Royal Oak.

Sophie sighed. She would have to find some other way of getting Howl to work with her, now. She simply hated the carriage too much to be able to wake it from its slumber.

“Wow,” Howl breathed, clearly shaken. “I- I didn't catch your name…”

“Sophie. Just Sophie is fine for now.”

“Well, Sophie, if you can do something like that at my viva, I’ll marry you and then some,” Howl grinned.

Chapter Text

It was a long, miserable walk back from the Royal Oak, not least because Howl kept complaining about the broken car. Sophie was thankful he’d seemingly lost the ability to produce slime.

“I have no idea how I’m going to get to and from the university now,” he whined. “The bus is so slow, and there are so many people on it.”

“You can't just magick your way there like you normally do?” Sophie asked, annoyed.

“If I knew how to do that, would we be walking?” Howl snapped.

Actually, Sophie rather liked this Howl. He was just a little too pathetic in this form for her to take him very seriously, and he knew it.

“I’m not used to seeing you with dark hair,” she remarked. “You haven't worked out how to dye your hair blonde yet, if it’s possible in this world.”

“You can dye it hot pink in this world,” Howl grumbled.

“Oh, you didn't care much for pink. Though I thought it suited you just fine, silly flamboyant thing you are.”

“Why do you keep insisting you're my wife? You don't care much for me, and I personally think you’re a highly unpleasant young woman and a witch in both senses of the word.”

“Actually, I’m an old hag cursed to live in the body of an unpleasant young woman,” Sophie said, and moved the umbrella a little to the right so that Howl would get rained on. “You married me for my wrinkles, and now look at us.”

Fortunately, they had made it back to Howl’s study- or Megan's house, the RIVENDELL sign looking significantly less sun-faded- and Howl fumbled with the set of golden keys, pressing a finger to his lips.

“We have to be very quiet. Megan hates it when I bring women home. Probably old hags, too.”

Sophie snorted, but followed him silently into the house. By now it was dark, and she could hear voices and the clink of forks on plates from another room.

Howl beckoned her into a hallway and down a flight of stairs.

“Nice and quiet, now, please,” Sophie whispered to the stairs, and they refrained from creaking or squeaking even once under her damp shoes.

Howl’s study was in the cellar, though the room burned with the same harsh light as the rest of the house. It was sparsely furnished, one half of the room covered in bookshelves and piles of books and possibly something resembling a desk under all that paper. The other half of the room was a small, unmade bed, laundry and paper and garbage littering the floor.

Howl seemed almost bashful as he crossed the floor and started rifling through the papers on the desk, though Sophie by this point was quite used to his mess.

She was still a cleaning woman at heart, though, so she started making the bed while Howl was busy looking for whatever he was looking for.

“Here-” He paused. “What are you doing?”

“You’re tired, and now I know exactly why. Your bed is a pigsty,” Sophie said, fishing out a rumpled book. “No wonder you don't use it.”

“You don't have any right to nag me, Miss Witch. I could have left you at the pub, or called the police on you.”

“Do you really want to argue with someone who can turn you into a toad?” she replied, which seemed to shut him up for a moment. “You deserve to sleep in a comfortable place. That's the problem. You’re always so selfishly focused on chasing your desires, you forget to be selfish enough to take care of yourself.” She sighed. “Except where your beauty is involved, I suppose.”

“You must know me well.” Color rose to Howl’s cheeks. “I’m surprised you still like me enough to marry me.”

“Liking you has nothing to do with it,” Sophie said, fluffing Howl’s pillows. “Some days, you’re downright unlikable. But you and I are there for one another, and we care for each other.”

“That sounds almost… good,” he admitted, and Sophie snatched the parchment away from him while he was distracted, folding it and tucking it away in her bag. “Hey! That's a century old, you know-”

“I don't care,” she said. “I won't hear anything about magic, charms, or otherwise until after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“My professor is going to kill me,” he said, but obediently sat on the bed and took off his shoes.

Sophie, for her part, sat in a rickety wooden chair vaguely near the buried desk and stripped to her only slightly damp petticoat, although she was a little nervous. To this Howl, she must have appeared still quite modestly dressed, but this Howl was functionally a stranger, and so she felt even less decent than usual. She was glad when he turned out the lights.

“Move over,” she said, climbing under the blankets next to him.

“I have to say, this is the strangest one-night-stand I’ve ever had,” Howl smiled as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Don't get any ideas. I’m just accustomed to sleeping like this, and I won't go without just because of some idiotic curse.” She shook her head. “Besides, you and I both know you won't fall asleep if I don't.”

Howl hugged her back without further complaint, and Sophie could feel some of the weight fall off his shoulders. In this moment, he seemed more like a child starved for affection than a womanizing buffoon. She stroked his hair out of habit, listening to his breathing slow little by little.

“I think I might be in love with you already, Miss Witch,” he mumbled. “You didn't cast a spell on me, did you?”

“You might have fallen for my charms, but I’m immune to yours,” Sophie huffed. “Go to sleep, Howl.”

When Sophie awoke Howl was laying in bed next to her, as if it were any normal sort of day. Annoyingly, he was holding the black letter and squinting to read the elaborate script.

“You’ve been looking through my things.”

“Good morning, witch,” Howl said cheerily.

“I’m also a hatter and a gardener, for your information.” Sophie reached to grab the letter, but Howl jerked it away.

“It's addressed to me,” Howl said. “I have a right to read it.”

“And a cleaning woman, too,” Sophie continued, lying on top of Howl like an obstinate housecat. It was something she often did to annoy him, and in her groggy state she had forgotten that this Howl hadn't had time to become annoyed by it. “And a sister and a good friend and even your old, frail mother, once, but you only seem interested in my limited magic and saving your own skin.”

Howl’s green eyes fluttered, cheeks flushed, and Sophie suddenly remembered that they weren't bickering newlyweds anymore. She quickly rolled off of him.

“Well, Howl,” she said, folding her arms across her stomach. “What did you gather from the letter?”

“The spell was meant to send me to the past, I think,” Howl answered, intently studying a crack in the ceiling. “That, and someone is almost as upset as I am that I’m suddenly married.”

“You left a trail of broken hearts wherever you went.”

“I guess that doesn't surprise me.”

“Well, if it was meant for you and not me, what am I doing here?”

“You’re exactly where this Cosimo wants me to be. You’re in my past. Which means you can stop whatever else she has in store for me.” Howl frowned. “Even for me, this seems a tad fantastical. Two witches from my future battling over my marital prospects?”

“I’m fairly sure he was a wizard.”

“Oh. Hmm.”

“Well, there's no point staying in bed and ignoring all this mess,” Sophie said, throwing back the covers and reaching for her dress.

“Wait. If you dress like that, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” Howl got out of bed, groaning as his joints cracked. Sophie understood immediately how he felt, though he seemed much too young to be having trouble getting out of bed. “I’ll bring some of Megan’s clothes for you, and you can see if any of them fit.”

He dressed quickly, throwing on yesterday’s crumpled outfit, and went up the stairs without a peep. Sophie rather missed his impeccable personal hygiene- still, she mused, looking over the papers, he must be utterly lost in his studies.

The parchment from last night was on the top of the pile, still a little creased from her bout of nagging.

“Straighten up, soldier,” she whispered at the paper. “We have a long road ahead of us.” The page ironed itself out and presented itself for inspection. It was rather old, and Sophie questioned if Howl was borrowing it from his university with explicit permission, or if he had done the Howlish thing and found a loophole to slither out of.

In either case, it seemed rather simple, all things considered. Even if Michael had been there to guide her through it, she might not have been able to pronounce the strange incantations, but the diagrams depicting the magic circle looked straightforward enough. 

They were strikingly similar to the markings Howl had drawn back when they’d moved house, and that made a comforting amount of sense to Sophie. Surely this was their way back home. They didn't have Calcifer’s power- but maybe they didn't need it, seeing as they were only trying to move two people and not an entire castle.

That left the more pressing question. If she and Howl were in his past, however long ago, would the curse be broken when they returned to Ingary? Or would she be an intruder in her own life? Would Howl still save Calcifer if he knew all the trouble that would come after? Would he avoid the Witch of the Waste, and never hire Sophie to clean? Perhaps he would make even worse decisions the second time around.

It all hurt her head and made her stomach flop. Sophie was glad when Howl came back down the stairs, holding a few articles of clothing.

“I brought you the frumpiest things I could find,” he sighed, laying the clothes out on the bed.

Sophie reluctantly chose a pair of rough blue pants that matched the ones Howl wore. They looked practical and thick. For her upper half, she picked out a warm-looking pink sweater with a high collar and long sleeves.

“These you can keep,” Howl said, producing a pair of soft-looking white shoes. “They don't fit her anymore and they've been rotting in that closet since the kids were born.”

“I’d rather wear my boots,” Sophie frowned. They had been with her since she'd first left the hat shop to seek her fortune.

“Come on. They're all worn out.”

“One day you’ll be an old scrap of leather yourself, and you’ll be glad someone hung on to you,” Sophie grumbled. “Turn around so I can change.”

The garments were surprisingly comfortable, although the sweater was scratchy enough that Sophie pulled on another shirt to wear underneath it. With her little yellow umbrella tied to her belt loop, she felt ready to tackle anything.

“Why couldn't you have dressed me like this the first time we came here?” she mused. “Maybe I will try the shoes.”

“You’ll need them, with my car broken down. We have a lot of ingredients to gather for the spell, and some of it is going to have to be on foot.”

“I recognized some of the symbols, by the way. That’s a passage back to Ingary, isn't it?”

“You would probably know better than I would. It doesn't surprise me- folklore is full of stories about portals and doors and paths between worlds. It's more surprising that it works.” Howl started up the stairs. “If you're right about my future, I mean, and this isn't all just a strange dream.”

Chapter Text

A different car was humming outside when they exited the house. Sophie was less than pleased with this development, though this one seemed less sickly than Howl’s had been.

“Howl!” said the driver. “Good to see you.”

“Thanks for giving us a lift, Shank,” Howl said in the overly-flowery tone of voice he reserved for his customers as he fastened Sophie into her seat. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Oh, of course! Anything for my favorite mentee.” The man seemed to be a bit older than Howl, his gentle face hidden under a pair of large horn-rimmed glasses, a scruffy beard, and a mop of unkempt dark hair. He also clearly desperately wanted to be Howl’s best friend, and Howl was having none of it. “Nice to meet you, miss…”

“Mrs. Sophie Pendragon,” Sophie said firmly.

“Ah. Dr. Theodore Shankland. But you can just call me Ted if you like.” He peered at her more closely. “Pendragon? Like King Arthur?”

Howl’s face flushed. “No relation.”

“Too bad.”

Howl hopped into the seat next to Ted, and they started climbing up the hill Sophie had struggled up the day before. Sophie found herself less anxious than the last time she'd been in a car- then again, they seemed to be moving only slightly faster than her walking pace.

“The wishbone, hot coal and Solomon's seal should be easy enough,” Ted was saying. “It's the second half of the ingredients list that’s more esoteric.”

“Sophie,” Howl asked, “do you know anything about how I cast the spell the first time?”

“I know that you figured it out all on your own,” she replied, clutching her umbrella as they went over a large bump.

“She’s got you there,” Ted chuckled. Howl let out a long breath. “It won't be too hard to figure out. Thread of the world to tie you- we could take that literally and use part of the clothes Sophie wore when she came here, or-”

“It has to be more metaphorical than that,” Howl scoffed. “How could I have crossed over in the first place, then, if I needed something from Ingary to cast the spell?”

There was more bickering back and forth between them like that for quite a while, and Sophie’s attention drifted out the window. It made her ever-turning stomach feel a little better.

They were turning down the corner past the Royal Oak again, and Sophie caught a glimpse of a man in wide black pants, inspecting Howl’s car with an irritated look on his face. She gasped.

“Go faster!”

“What? Why?” Ted slowed down to look.

“Just go!” Sophie yelled, and something in the guts of the car sent them veering down the road with a mighty roar. A cross old lady yelled something at them, and a cat screeched and ran into the nearest bush.

Well, if Cosimo hadn't spotted them before, he had certainly noticed now. Ted, shaking, steered the car back behind a building and stopped it.

“That's what I mean,” Howl said smugly. “I told you she was a witch.”

“Sophie, promise me you’ll never do that again,” Ted wheezed. “Neither I nor the Marina can take it.”

“It isn't me you should be worrying about. I saw the wizard that cursed us both.” Sophie balled her hands into fists. If Howl couldn't cast spells in this world, that meant she was the most magical person here, which was beyond awkward. Maybe if they could convince Cosimo to wear a charmed hat or buy a flower arrangement, she could help, but an outright battle between the two of them seemed impossible.

“I don't suppose he would help me with my thesis.” Howl groaned. “This is crazy, isn't it? They'll never believe me.”

“This could change our world forever. It's bigger than the university.”

“You’re worried about school at a time like this?” Sophie spat.

“Well, what's the worst that can happen?” asked Howl. “Cosimo clearly just wants me to give him another chance. And he seems to feel sorry for you. We can come to some reasonable arrangement, surely.”

“Wizards are not reasonable people.”

“We’ll start at the other end of town,” Ted said gently, putting his hand on the back of Howl’s seat as he rolled the car backwards out onto the street again. “The tea shop over on Cardiff has a nettle blend, and there's another butcher shop nearby for the wishbone, even though I like Dougherty’s more.”

Sophie elected to go with Ted to the butcher’s, even though she knew the Witch of the Waste’s demon wouldn't be living above the tea shop for years yet.

She also needed a little time away from Howl. It seemed unfair that she was the one who had to be eternally patient with him, even though she was trying to help him get out of this mess.

“And- Michael, was it? Did he have some innate magical ability, or was he able to learn how to use it through future-Howl’s tutoring?”

“I’m not sure. I wasn't really interested in magic, until it became interested in me. I was the eldest daughter, after all.”

“I suppose that means something in Ingary?”

“Well, you’re not likely to succeed at anything. That's the way it goes. The eldest fails the first, then the middle sibling, and then finally the youngest and cleverest is the one to seek their fortune and find it.”

“Ah.” Ted scribbled another note in his commonplace book. He’d been asking her questions and writing feverishly the whole time they’d been walking, and Sophie had had to guide him away from signs and trees and a small dog. “I’m an eldest son, you know.”

“It explains why you’re stuck with Howl.”

“Ha! No, no. Howl is brilliant, he’s just… unfocused.”

“I imagine he's fantastic in the periods between girlfriends.”

“You’ve really got his number.”

“His number of what? Of girlfriends?”

Ted snorted, and opened the glass door to the butcher shop.

It was easy enough to buy a few wishbones, even though the butcher gave them an odd look. He wrapped them up in a clean white paper parcel, exchanging it for a handful of coins.

Then they were on their way back, and Ted had more questions.

“You said your magical abilities hadn't shown up until you got cursed. Do you think it's possible they developed because a spell was cast on you? Or was the magic always present?”

“Actually, it's my turn to ask the questions. How does your carriage work without horses, if you don't have any magic?”

“It’s an invention called the combustion engine. Essentially, it’s a machine that compresses air and fuel and lights it on fire over and over again, and uses the energy to keep itself in motion.”

Sophie hummed thoughtfully, as though the explanation made sense. She felt sorrier for Howl’s car, imagining a tiny Calcifer inside it.

Ted went on about cars for a while, and when they rounded the corner, two figures were leaned against the Marina. Sophie’s stomach sank as she noticed the star-adorned sweater and the wide black pants.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into,” Howl said, waving them over. “Ted, Sophie, this is Cosimo. He's an exchange student finishing his Folklore and Mythology degree.”

“We’ve had a few of the same classes together,” Cosimo smiled, throwing a spangled arm around Howl’s shoulders. “Ah, Harriet! I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Yes,” Sophie said, heart thumping in her chest. She clutched the umbrella hanging at her side. “I’ve had a very disorienting trip. Perhaps we could catch up over a cup of tea while our friends finish their errands?”

“Are you sure?” Ted asked, his crinkly, magnified eyes flitting from her to Howl to Cosimo.

“Quite.” Sophie paused, looking back at him. “Actually, I’ll need some money.”

“Oh, I’ll pay. Any friend of Howl’s is a friend of mine,” Cosimo grinned.

“I’m sorry to have put you in the middle of all of this.” Cosimo dropped four or five lumps of sugar into his cup, and Sophie noticed he hadn't actually paid the dazed woman behind the counter. “I really thought you were lying on Howl’s behalf, Harriet- or, is it Sophie?”

“Harriet. I thought it might not be prudent to give my real name out in a strange world.” Cosimo didn't know who she really was. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she could get home and stop anything bad from happening to her Howl. Unless he’d already been changed already, in which case- well, it was better if Cosimo knew as little as possible, for now.

“Clever girl. Although it seems you found your way to the other H. Jenkins before I did.”

“You did put me right in front of his house.” Sophie stirred her tea anxiously. “What are you planning to do to him? Place him under some sort of love spell?”

“Nothing quite as horrible as that,” Cosimo assured her, freckled eyes shining. “I’m just going to get it right this time. If I can't, I’ll start over again. Eventually, I’ll figure out where I went wrong.”

“It isn't you that's the problem, it's Howl. He’s well known for eating the hearts of pretty young ladies- and I suppose pretty young gentlemen, too, although you don't hear those tales as often.”

“He got married, though, didn't he?” Cosimo’s fingers tapped on the table in an idle pattern. “Which means I definitely have a chance, as long as I figure out what I lack.”

It was a rather sad thought, that Cosimo would rather live a lie than be separated from Howl. The only way Sophie had been able to break Howl’s curse and win his heart in the first place had been through revealing the truth. She almost felt sympathetic for the man, except that he had dragged her and her family into his delusions.

“In any case, would you send me home? I do have a flower shop to run, and I think I left the door unlocked.”

“I can't do that,” Cosimo said apologetically. “You’re my anchor to the past now, and this whole thing was so difficult to set up. I promise, I can win his heart on at least the third or fourth try. I’ve done my research. Then we can figure out how to get you home without undoing everything.”

Sophie pushed out her chair, tea untouched.

“Forget it. If you won't help me, I’ll just have to figure it out myself.”

“Careful, Hattie,” Cosimo called after her melodically. “If you try to break my spell, I’ll make you regret it!”

Sophie felt lost as she exited the tea shop, and not just because of the unfamiliar street.

Cosimo knew nothing about her, which was a small comfort, and he likely didn't expect that she had a plan in place to get home already. Really, if he had done his research, he would have figured out past-Howl was on the brink of escaping Wales.

At the same time, this was no guarantee. She had defeated the Witch of the Waste before, but that had been a very different situation, and she'd had a lot of help. Here, she felt completely alone, even with Ted and Howl by her side. She missed Lettie and Martha and Fanny, and Michael and Calcifer. She missed having the safety of the castle and the knowledge that anything that tried to enter was no match for her mastery of the space.

Most of all, she missed having endless time to sulk and pick at the impossible knots she often found herself tied up in.

Before she knew it, her soft white shoes had led her back to the end of Cardiff Road. Ted was waiting for her outside the butcher shop, like they’d agreed, and she quickly got inside the car.

“So?” Howl said. “Did you learn anything new?”

“I’ll fill you in,” Sophie sighed. “Let's just go home.”

Chapter Text

Home for Sophie became the spare room in Ted’s house that he had inherited from his old grandmother.

“Sorry, Sophie,” Howl said, “but I don't think Megan is keen on having another tenant.”

“Are you really sure about this?”

“You worry too much. Shank is the most trustworthy person I know. Or- with a car,” he added lamely.

Ted was a nice enough housemate, though. He didn't complain when Sophie started her cleaning rituals up again, except to tell her not to touch his office please, and mostly kept to himself. Occasionally he would go to the university to teach classes, though he seemed to do far less of that than she expected from a professor. Once, he let Sophie grade his papers. There were so many that in the end she got frustrated and decided to give all of them high marks.

Progress on the spell was slower than she would have liked, and Howl was suddenly nowhere to be found, nevermind that it was his project in the first place.

“Should you be doing Howl’s schoolwork for him?”

“It isn't schoolwork,” Ted said, poring through a tome on medieval textiles. “This is the single most important discovery in the history of mankind. Another world, parallel to our own, and a way to travel between the two? Imagine! They could call it the Jenkins-Shankland Portal. I’d be remembered alongside Sir Isaac Newton or Albert Einstein.”

Sophie didn't like the sound of that one bit. Ingary was already constantly in the middle of some political plot or another- adding an entire other set of countries to worry about was a horrible idea.

To add to her problems, Howl showed up with freshly-cut chin-length blonde hair the next time he blew through the door.

“Oh, what's wrong now? I thought you said you liked me as a blonde.”

“I’ve had enough of you,” she cried, hands on her hips. “You don't care one bit about trying to set things right!”

“Maybe I don't!” Howl huffed. “Ingary can wait until I’m ready.”

“I knew it. You’re always like this! When things get serious, you slack off and get obsessed with some woman instead.”

“Indeed I have,” Howl shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I’ve been going out with Cosimo.”

“With Cosimo!” It was a little too much to bear. “He’s the one that put us in this mess!”

“Yes, and he’s nice to me, which is a welcome change.”

“Fine, Howl. I’ll take Ted with me back to Ingary and leave you here by yourself.” 

“If you really think that poorly of me, then go right ahead,” he said unsympathetically.

Sophie went into her room and slammed the door.

She would just have to fix things herself somehow- catch Calcifer, find Michael, try to avoid losing her heart completely in the process- rescue Prince Justin and Suliman- and again, just like that, it seemed completely impossible.

“You shouldn't tease her like that,” she heard Ted saying in the other room, and shoved her pillow over her head.

“I don't want to hear a single word,” she hissed, and the pillow dutifully smothered the noise until she could only hear her own stuttering breaths.

If she had been weeping at home, in her own bed, she could have heard the familiar creak of the castle as it moved over the hills, Michael practicing his incantations downstairs by Calcifer’s light- Calcifer stayed with them more often than not, even with his freedom restored- and, when evening came, Howl would wordlessly crawl into Sophie’s bed to comfort her as he always did, wrap himself around her and bury his face in her shoulder and pull the covers tight around them.

And then, in the morning, she would open the flower shop, and Martha or Lettie would stop by to visit her, and whatever she had gotten so worked up about would melt away, because she was right where she belonged in the world.

Sophie had nearly drifted off when a sliver of golden light pierced the dark room. She pulled the pillow off her head, half hoping Howl was here to comfort her, but instead it was Ted that hovered anxiously in the doorway.

“How are you holding up?”

“Badly.” Sophie flopped back down.

“I’ve got good news,” he tried. “I worked out the last ingredient for the spell, and we can try it out tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. We can finally leave Howl here to rot.”

“I- er- I don't really know what to say- I was never much for romance- don't understand it. But he's an idiot, and you’re a nice girl, and I hope he gets over himself quick.”

There was a quiet clink, and Sophie understood immediately that Ted had put a warm cup of tea on the nightstand.

“Goodnight, Sophie,” he said softly as he shuffled out of the room.

In the morning, Sophie was in far better spirits. How could she not be? Today, she was going home at last, and could say farewell to past-Howl and Cosimo forever.

She rummaged through the humming icebox Ted kept his perishables in, deciding eggs and toast would be the easiest option.

“When I leave,” she cooed at the toaster, “you’re coming with me, aren't you?” There was a pregnant pause, and then it popped out two slices of perfectly browned toast in affirmation. The toaster was a wonderful invention.

Ted poked his head out of his bedroom just as Sophie finished plating their breakfast.

“Smells good,” he sighed, looking rumpled as he usually did in the mornings. “I forgot to get the strawberries you asked for, didn't I?”

“That's alright. When we’re back in Market Chipping, I’ll make us all sorts of breakfasts.” She hesitated. “I meant to ask you about something.”

“Go ahead,” Ted said, lifting the egg-on-toast from his plate ravenously.

“I don't think it's a good idea, joining our two worlds. Ingary is a complicated place without having to worry about diplomacy with somewhere as different as Wales.”

“You mean to say you think there would be a war.”

“We’ve waged war for less,” Sophie sighed.

“I understand, but- the people of this world have been searching for years to prove life exists on planets other than our own. Who am I to hide this from them?”

“If you want to do some good, maybe you can help us in Ingary.” She picked at her egg with a fork, too nervous to eat. “You know things, like how cars and toasters work. Those are things we don't have. Perhaps I could introduce you to our king, and you could be some sort of a royal inventor.”

“You can use magic, though, can't you?”

“Not everyone can, and it's certainly not as commonplace as your magic is here.”

“Electricity,” Ted corrected, wiping egg out of his beard. “I suppose- I dabble, I certainly don't understand all of it myself- I’m more of a hobbyist than anything- but I like the idea.”

That was one problem settled, anyway. Sophie was willfully ignoring all of the others.

She braided her hair and dressed in Megan's borrowed clothing, the jeans and pink turtleneck sweater, her umbrella tied to her waist and her bag slung across one arm.

“I’m ready,” she said as Ted finished chalking out the sigils on the wooden floor.

“There's no guarantee this works,” he warned her. “I’m fairly sure I caught the mistranslation that was hindering us- thread of the earth, mycelium, a metaphorical mushroom ring- but we don't know that this spell will do the job.”

“It has to,” Sophie insisted. “It looks right to me, and besides, this is exactly around the time Howl would have figured things out.”

“Even still-”

“We won't know unless we try.”

Ted nodded wearily, opening his commonplace book and starting to read off the incantation, while Sophie carefully placed each ingredient in the spots Ted had marked in the circle. The hot coal from the fireplace was placed carefully on a wad of tinfoil, to avoid burning the wooden floor.

When they had done that, he paused, and Sophie handed him one half of the wishbone.

Snap.

All of a sudden, the room rearranged itself, growing taller and smaller. The door to Sophie’s bedroom knocked itself against the door to Ted’s office, and the kitchen counter slid lazily into the living room, bumping Ted’s sofa out of the way.

The ceiling sprouted a chandelier, old and dusty, with candle holders rather than electric lights, and windows opened themselves on the upper walls, a blue summer sky impossibly winking through them.

“We’ve done it!” Sophie shouted.

“We’ve done something,” Ted said, taking a melancholy look around at his significantly smaller house.

Sophie rushed to the front door and flung it open- only to meet the grey, unkempt garden outside.

“No matter,” she barked, pushing up her sleeves. “I’ll climb out a window and see where we are.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ted said, peering into the linen closet. “I suppose this is the door to… wherever we are.”

Sea air filled the house, and the squawking of seagulls indicated they were quite near the coast. The street outside was cobbled, familiar-feeling under Sophie's soft white shoes, though luckily they seemed to be down a quiet side street.

“Don't close the door on me,” she said. “Let me try to figure out where we are in Ingary, and then I’ll come back in.”

It didn't take very long at all. Sophie recognized the main road that led down to the fish market, and somewhere up the hill was Sorcerer Jenkin’s spell shop.

So this was where Howl had ended up at first. She crept back down the side road before she could catch more stares from the townspeople, as eager as she was to check whether the shop was still there.

“So?” Ted asked anxiously.

“It's Porthaven,” Sophie said, “a little town by the sea. Howl has a business here where he sells potions and charms for far less money than he probably should. We’re in an old abandoned workshop of some sort- there are a lot of those in this town, since the capitol was moved farther away after the last war.” She was rather proud of herself for remembering that historical detail- Ted flipped through his little notebook and scribbled it down immediately.

“Let's try a few things before we start exploring,” he said, scratching his beard.

They closed the door and opened it again, checking that Porthaven was still on the other side. Then, they closed it while Sophie was outside, and lastly Ted reluctantly joined her to test that no one needed to stay in the house for the spell to work.

They did the same thing with the front door, just in case.

“It seems to have taken,” Ted finally said. “Though I hope my grandmother's quilts made it somewhere else in the house.”

“It is rather inconvenient to have to use up two doors,” Sophie agreed. “Howl must have improved upon this spell to invent the castle.” That was the other thing- as heartwrenchingly familiar as the spell felt, Ted’s house didn't quite have the same lively quality to it. Whether that was Calcifer’s doing or Howl’s, the castle had been a reflection of their combined brilliance.

“Now that we know it's safe, let’s take a look around Porthaven,” Sophie insisted. “There's so much I need to find out.”

“And so much I’m eager to learn,” Ted agreed.

“To the spell shop, then.”

“Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but Sophie’s heart sank anyway as they rounded the corner.

Howl’s little house sat dilapidated and disused, far worse for wear than Sophie had ever seen it. The windows were boarded shut, and the door rested against the doorframe, without hinges to speak of. Beyond, the room was empty, besides a few crates and some debris.

“I don't know what I expected,” she said. “Howl hasn't been here yet to fix this place up. He hasn't even gone to Kingsbury to learn magic. He's sitting back at home, fawning over that idiotic wizard.”

“Do you think each door in Ingary corresponds to one on Earth?” Ted asked, distracted.

“Maybe we should head back,” Sophie said, also not really listening. “Cosimo said I was his tether to the past, but I don't want to break the spell if it leaves us trapped here.” She hesitated. “Let's visit the market first. I’ll want a fish for our dinner.”

Sophie felt cheered walking down the hill to the shoreline, the warm sun on her face and the smell of the market filling her nostrils. Despite the ramshackle nature of the place, Porthaven Market was full of exotic spices and the freshest fish one could buy, unless you walked right up onto the deck of one of the many fishing boats loitering in the marina.

“Sophie.” Ted tugged on her sleeve. “Is that a bookstore I see?”

“You’ll have to wait. I only have the money I brought from the flower shop.”

“Just a look?”

“If you can stay there, and promise not to wander off. I’ll collect you when I’m done haggling.”

Then Sophie was alone, and felt it. Strangely, taking Ted to the market felt a lot like Michael tagging along beside her. She wondered if he was born yet, if his family was still alive and happy somewhere celebrating their new son.

It was a little too much to bear, and she had to stop worming her way through the crowds and compose herself before she thought of altering the past further.

Something nudged her shoulder, like a shark bumping its prey.

“Hattie!”

“Can't you leave me alone?” she cried, but the gazes of the sailors and merchants who had previously thought her strange rolled off of her like raindrops.

Cosimo was dressed in a black suit with gold threads woven in that shimmered brighter than the scales of the fish in nearby stall. He picked one up, all wrapped in cool white paper, and thrust it into Sophie’s arms. The fishmonger didn't protest, though he hadn't paid.

“Well, you’ve gotten what you came for now,” he smiled, barely holding back his animosity. He looped his arm with hers, walking her away from the stall. “Time is running out, my little snapper, and I told you I wouldn't take kindly to you ruining my spell.”

“I don't intend to,” Sophie mumbled. “At least, not now that I know this door only leads to the past. It's years before I establish the flower shop. I must still be a child.”

“Yes, yes, it's very unfortunate.” Cosimo let go of her as they neared the bookstore. “I have wonderous news for you, though! I’ve made great progress with the Wizard Howl, so I’m sure I won't need your services much longer.”

“That is so good to hear,” Sophie said through her teeth.

“Why don't you go collect your professor, then.” Cosimo paused, finger to his chin in an exaggerated pose. “I do feel bad for trapping you here, so I’ll leave the door the way it is- for now. But if you cross over again longer than it takes for a breath of sea air, I’ll burn this house and everything in it to ash.”

Cosimo bid her farewell, and Sophie decided if he was truly the fool she thought he was, he was a dangerous one indeed.

Howl was fuming when Sophie and Ted came in the door, springing up from the displaced sofa with a shout.

“You really did it! You tried to leave me here!”

“I was going to come back,” Sophie sighed. “Now I wish I hadn't.”

“Unbelievable! And you, Shank- even though I was the one who discovered the spell!”

“Howell-”

“What's more, I had to pretend I didn't have an inkling of what was going on in front of that lovestruck idiot of a wizard. Do you know how humiliating it was, having to dumb myself down like that for your sakes?”

Sophie snorted.

“None of that from you. You’re the one who started this whole mess.”

“Actually, you are,” Sophie countered. “Perhaps if you were a decent person and not a slitherer-outer, we would all be living happily ever after.” They wouldn't be- Sophie knew that- but it was fun to see just how red Howl’s face could get without the fear of slime or any other sort of magical tantrum. She stepped closer to him and tucked a strand of ridiculous blonde hair behind his ear. “You foolish man.”

“I haven't been slithering out,” he said, wounded. “I’ve been keeping Cosimo busy so that you two could perfect the spell.”

“What?” Sophie crossed her arms. “Why wouldn't you just tell us that in the first place?”

“I told Shank,” Howl shrugged. “You were busy being upset about my hair.”

“Ted-!”

“I don't want to get involved in this,” he said, throwing his hands up. “Anyways- I have notes to copy, and we need to formulate a new plan- I’ll be in my office if you come up with any ideas.”

He didn't sound particularly hopeful. Nor should he have been. Sophie could already tell this was the beginning of another spat.

“So you really haven't been chasing after him?”

“No, absolutely not.” Howl sat back down, crossing one leg over the other with a heavy sigh. “I don't know how my future self could tolerate him, looks notwithstanding. Even if he wasn't annoyingly clingy, I have someone else in mind.”

“Of course you do.” Sophie’s fingers dug into her arms. “I don't know why I expected more from you. I suppose your wicked ways started early on.”

Howl put his face in his hands and mumbled something in a language Sophie couldn't understand. His eyes were ringed with dark patches again, she noticed then. He really mustn’t have been sleeping in anyone else’s bed- or sleeping at all, more likely.

Despite her less than charitable feelings towards this warped version of Howl, he was still unmistakably her Howl, and she still felt concerned for his well-being.

“Whoever she is- or he, or whoever- they aren't doing a very good job of taking care of you,” she started quietly.

“I’m an adult,” Howl protested. “I don't need to be taken care of.”

“And when was the last time you slept soundly or ate a proper meal?”

“You nag too much,” he grumbled.

“Howl,” Sophie murmured, settling onto the couch next to him.

“You aren't going to let me walk away with my pride intact, are you?” He sighed, sinking into Sophie’s arms. “Very well. Tell all your friends in Ingary you’ve made me into your pet, then.”

“I really was going to come back for you,” she said, pulling her fingers through his hair. “However mad I get at you now, I know in the future things will work themselves out.”

Howl sat up, huffing.

“It's always the future with you, isn't it? You don't care for the present me at all.”

“We’ve only just met, and neither of us has exactly started off on the right foot.”

“But you’re content to treat me like I’m your husband, even though I haven't agreed to anything of the sort. Yet,” he added.

“You’re the one who just curled up in my lap.”

“Well, you took me to bed earlier and insisted on using me as a teddy bear.”

“And you went to the trouble of dyeing your hair for me.”

“I didn't!” Howl was downright crimson, a rare sight with the amount of creams and charms he normally used to hide such reactions. “Oh, go back to your own time already and leave me in peace.”

“Fine,” Sophie said, more amused than annoyed. His insults simply didn't have the same bite. She got up, grabbing her bag, and padded to the kitchen, putting the fish in the icebox and rummaging through the cupboards for Ted’s pots and pans.

“What are you doing now?”

“Starting dinner.”

“How can you think about that at a time like this?”

“The world is always ending, and there's always some curse breathing down our necks. We still have to eat.” Sophie bent down to open the cupboard where the potatoes were kept, and set a few on the counter. “Now, where's the silverware drawer gone?”

Dinner was delicious, and Sophie felt unreasonably proud that the first meal she had cooked for Howl had come out this well. 

The fish she had fried with salt, pepper, and a handful of green herbs, and she had made fluffy mashed potatoes with cream and garlic and well-browned onions. She had finally gotten used to the quiet, docile stove, rather than bullying Calcifer into maintaining the right temperature, although she did still mutter to herself as she cooked as though he were there.

“I’ve got an idea,” Howl said, sitting back down after grabbing seconds. He hadn't thanked Sophie once or complimented the meal, still irritated with her, but Sophie noticed the way he relished each bite. “Shank, you remember the time capsule the university buried a few years ago.”

“Of course! We can preserve a note of some sort, send a message through to the future by leaving it in the spell shop.”

“How do we know Howl will get it?” Sophie frowned.

“Well, I’ll just have to remember where it’s hidden when I’m future-me.”

“If you remembered all this happening, you wouldn't have gotten involved with Cosimo in the first place. We can't assume you’ll just remember.”

“I suppose it does defeat the point of the entire idea,” Howl sighed. “We really have no clue how this spell works.”

“It depends,” Ted interjected, “on which version of time travel theory you subscribe to. Really, Sophie, the fact that you exist as you are now means we’ll have solved all this sometime in the future, between this moment and whenever you and Howl meet for the first time- in your lived experience, that is. Whatever happens is fated to happen.”

“What's the other theory?” Sophie asked.

“That we’ve destroyed the timeline that existed before, and are living in a new one where the future could be altered by any miniscule change.”

Howl kicked Ted under the table.

“It’s- that is, it's not a guarantee- we should be optimistic here- leaving a message to see what happens won't do us any harm. Any more harm, anyway.”

“You’ll have to be the one to do it, then,” Sophie decided. “If I leave this world for too long, the spell starts to unravel, and Cosimo can tell where I’ve gone. And Howl’s better off keeping him distracted, if he has an eye on Porthaven and comes to investigate us.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Howl grumbled around a mouthful of potato. “I’ll never get to see Ingary at this rate.”

“You made up your mind all on your own that you’d be the distraction in our plans from now on,” Sophie shot back. “Don't start complaining to me about it.”

“What should we put in the message?” Ted cut in. “And who do we address it to?”

“Not Sophie. I wouldn't keep a letter that was addressed to someone else. Although, if it were addressed to me, I might skim over it and think it was nonsense.”

“I think we need to put a spell on it,” Sophie said, though she wasn't certain of herself. “If you can't open it right away, you’ll get curious and take it more seriously. So we’ll put your name on it, and a message to only read it when the time comes.”

“I’ve got an old wooden cigar box we can use,” Ted added, “and we’ll put the letter inside in a plastic bag to ensure it doesn't get wet or dirty.”

Howl penned the message himself, explaining the situation as best he could, while Sophie copied down the contents of Cosimo’s letter for later reference and sealed the original to include in the box.

“Now listen carefully,” she whispered to the antique box. “Howl will desperately want you to open up, and you mustn't let him until the time is right. Of course he’ll be frustrated and throw every spell he can at you, but you must stay strong and steadfast- but do keep him interested as long as possible. And- and give him all my love, too,” she added, pressing a brief kiss to the top of the box.

When that was done, Howl wrote his own name on the top, and Ted opened the linen closet door, flooding the tiny house with the smell of Porthaven.

“Wish me luck,” he said.

Though he was only gone a few minutes, the waiting felt like hours. Neither Sophie nor Howl could relax, and Sophie opted to scrub down the cramped kitchen while Howl paced.

Both of them jumped when Ted opened the door again.

“That was easy enough,” Ted said, unbothered, taking off his jacket and shoes. “I suppose now we'll have to wait and see what happens.”

Then, just as he was about to settle down on the sofa, there was a frantic knock at the door.

Chapter Text

Knock knock knock knock.

The three of them looked at one another with trepidation. 

“I’ll get it,” Sophie said, springing up before anyone could argue. If it was Cosimo finding out about their plan, she would rather try and fight him with her limited magic. She grabbed her little yellow umbrella off the counter, gripping it tightly. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would have to do.

She turned the knob, unsure of what was waiting for her on the other side.

“Sophie!”

“Howl!”

She dropped the umbrella and threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him over. 

Howl- her Howl- squeezing her tightly around her middle, pressing a hurried kiss to the side of her head. It felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you’re alright. I had to see you,” he said, pulling away. His charcoal hair framed two shining emerald eyes and a bright smile. “You were gone for days, and no one knew where, or how, or why, until I stumbled across that blasted box again.” He grinned. “My clever girl.”

Then, he peered into the room, immediately catching sight of his younger self. The two Howls locked eyes, both of them looking absolutely disgusted.

“You said I was a blonde, Sophie,” past-Howl said sourly. “And what on earth am I wearing?”

“I could ask you the same,” future-Howl replied. “I thought I burned that nasty old sweatshirt.”

“Howl- are you jealous of yourself?” Sophie asked.

“No,” the two of them snapped in unison.

Then, the younger Howl said, “I suppose you’re going to fix all of this now, then. Wave your magic wand.”

“I do have a spell in mind, but it isn't for Cosimo.” He turned to Sophie, one arm still resting around her waist. “I need him to cooperate with me in order to break the time-travelling spell. Our only chance is to really and truly convince him that a life with me isn't what he wants.”

“Ah,” past-Howl said. “Right- the bad boyfriend trick.”

“Oh, you won't,” Sophie said. “That isn't going to work on him at all- and it's cruel, besides. You should just tell him the truth.”

“He's outright threatened us once already. I’m all for a subtle approach,” Ted piped up. Future-Howl squinted at him.

“Is that… Shank? Professor Shank? I haven't seen you in years! I’d thought you disappeared, way back before I-” He put a hand to his lips, realizing what he’d let slip.

“Ah.” Ted looked miserable, slumping back into the old sofa. “I suppose that answers that. Well, go ahead, then, tell him the truth.”

“I won't,” the younger Howl said stubbornly, tossing his blonde hair. “It's much easier if he makes up his mind for himself.”

“It's a cowardly thing to do,” Sophie argued, wiggling out of her Howl’s grasp and putting her hands on her hips. “And you- I thought you’d gotten a bit better! Can't you give yourself some words of wisdom?”

“Oh, I won't listen,” Howl said serenely, and Sophie briefly considered hitting him with her umbrella after all.

The plan was set. Howl would be a terrible enough lover that Cosimo would give up on him, and Sophie didn't doubt that he was capable of such a thing- just that Cosimo would have the self-respect to end things.

“Can't you do something about this horrible plan?” she whispered to Ted as the two Howls schemed.

“It doesn't matter anyway. Disappeared,” he moaned. “Whatever we do, I’m disappeared.”

“Oh, disappeared isn't so bad,” Sophie grumbled, now truly frustrated with the situation. “Better than buried, anyway.”

“You’re mad at me.” Howl lounged in Sophie’s bed, looking a little offended that she hadn't immediately hopped right in with him.

“Of course I’m mad at you,” she said. “It's a bad plan. Why can't you just do some magic? Bring me home, set everything right?”

“Truthfully, I’m not sure how to get us back. I copied the spell Cosimo imbued in the letter to get here. How it actually works is beyond me.”

“You what!” Sophie yanked the pillow out from under him, whapping him with it. “Why did you even come, then?”

“I needed to rescue you! I thought you were in danger, not on holiday in Wales!”

“Oh, a fine job you’ve done of that. What's next? I suppose Michael will knock on the door, and then Calcifer, and Ben and Lettie, until all of Ingary is trapped here with us!”

“You- oof- you would have done the same thing,” Howl argued, dodging Sophie’s blows.

“You’re right, I would have! But I don't think before I act- you know that. You’re supposed to be the clear-headed one.”

“How could I be clear-headed? It felt like my heart had been wrenched out of my chest.”

Sophie stopped, her grip on the pillow loosening.

“Sophie, I need you,” Howl admitted. “I’m a mess without you.”

“So you want me back to clean up your messes, is that it?”

“I want you back because I miss the way your eyes sparkle when you smile, and how peaceful you make me feel when we sleep together. And I even miss your nagging and your temper, because truthfully without them I’d be far worse off.” Howl said, voice soft. “Are you satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Sophie said, and climbed on top of Howl, laying him down gently against the pillows. She stroked his stubbly cheek- he hadn't shaved in a few days. Though in comparison to past-Howl he was still dreamlike in his beauty, she could see the toll her disappearance had taken on him.

Slowly, she pressed a kiss against his lips, savoring the way his breath caught. As wicked as he liked to believe he was, she could reduce him to kittenhood with just a few gentle touches.

“It's funny,” he sighed. “Now that we’re together again, I have the feeling everything is going to be alright.”

“It’s the opposite. Between Cosimo’s jealousy and your own, the two of us are in hot water.”

“Oh, trust me, he couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Even if that’s true,” Sophie said, thinking of how he’d treated her “Hattie” persona, “he did have enough power to send us back into the past. Who knows how he’s grown since the two of you parted ways? And you without Calcifer’s power besides.”

“If he’s still chasing me, he can’t have grown that much.”

“All the more reason not to toy with his feelings.” Sophie huffed. “I’d forgotten how heartless you can be.”

“I know that look. You’ve already made up your mind to meddle in my plans, haven’t you?” Howl sighed, almost looking annoyed before Sophie reached up to brush the hair from his forehead.

“We’ll argue about that in the morning,” she insisted. “Right now, I just want to enjoy my husband.”

“Mmm. Alright. We can postpone it, then.”

Howl barely managed to get the sentence out before Sophie caught him in another slow, soft kiss, breathing in the scent of his ridiculous soaps. He smelled like a bouquet, like roses and peonies and orange-blossom honey. It was just as well that Sophie liked flowers, she thought, though her own hands still smelled like garlic and onion and fish.

Howl didn’t seem to notice or care very much at all, going completely limp while she pressed kiss after kiss along his jaw, from ear to chin.

“Sophie,” he sighed. “You’re perfect.”

“Oh, Howl,” she whispered against his cheek.

Idly, she ran her fingers along the curve of his neck, up into his hair. 

Tomorrow, Sophie would become a holy terror- a battleaxe- a witch- and Howl would start his complaining again. But she supposed she could hold off for now, stay perfect, even if just for one night.