[As it happens, a black wool robe blends in with the weird fashions of this weird place quite well, especially once he's got it good and dusty, but a black wool robe in the tropics is also awful in every sense of the word. It's hot and heavy and scratchy in a way he really never noticed before and Harry has finally given in and wadded it up under his arm. Between the school uniform underneath and the glasses, he's getting a few looks and mutters now.

He's used to being stared at though, that's what happens when you're Harry Potter, so he isn't as fussed about it as he probably ought to be. Doesn't mean he isn't a bit relieved when someone else appears wearing something that at least looks like it was made in his home century.]

Er, well. Time travel is real, actually, bit weird but I just learned about it myself. Dunno if that's what's happened though. It wasn't the same at all.

[He looks at the barrel in front of them, topped with a lantern burning some kind of fish-smelling oil that's got to be real.] I don't think we're lucky enough to be hallucinating.