"Merlin’s tits," he mumbled before pushing himself to stand. The searing pain in his head was back, and he could feel his eardrums thumping violently against his skull, but he forced himself to stand and looked around sharply. He was...at the courtyard at the Ministry. It was 2004, right? Right, that’s what Ducane had said. Braxton was here, somewhere. He glanced around sharply, waiting a moment for his vision to catch up. There were several people about, presumably Ministry employees. Some were playing a game of pick-up Quidditch. Unfashionable wizards walking around carrying paperwork looking terribly busy. Overworked, grumpy owls carrying letters flying about. And—