“Whoaaaaaa, a timeturner!” Fletcher breathed to himself, staring with awe at the fragile figure-eight necklace resting in the palm of his hand. What a find in a dumpy little shop on Tottenham Court Road! He looked around to see if anyone nearby might have heard him.

No? Good. Fletcher hurriedly stuffed the necklace into one of the pockets of his big coat and slipped out of the shop.

It was only hours later, when he was sitting at home, prepared to go back in time an hour to eat dinner again, that Fletcher realized his timeturner… was an ordinary hourglass.