[The PCD turns on, showing a rather dirty, surprised young girl with a mess of curls, blinking at the screen.]
That’s… odd. It appears to be some sort of video camera. I suppose I’ve lived among the magical community so long that I haven’t realized how advanced technology has become.
[Her voice is a low murmur; it’s obvious that she doesn’t realize
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Er-... I'm sorry? I don't believe I know you... nor what you're talking about.
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Um... thank you, then, I suppose. You wouldn't happen to know how I would get back to where I should be, would you? It's a little place in northern England called Shell Cottage; my friend was trying to get me there rather desperately, and so I take it he missed his mark.
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I-... I'm fairly certain that no one led me anywhere. If anything, I might have been forcibly parted from someone who was trying to take me somewhere, but, as I was mostly comatose at the time, I don't think the white rabbit reference quite fits.
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If only I could answer that question with something of more substance! Unfortunately, it seems our hosts are cruel and fickle beings with designs only to dash our hopes for their own entertainment.
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I don't fancy myself a plaything, and neither should any of the others who have found their way here.
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[Zombies, Hermione. Bitey zombies.]
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