ENIGMA

Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.

Summary: AU: What if everything we ever read in JK Rowling’s books was real – including the people characterised? What would you do if you found yourself caught up in that reality knowing what was to come? SS, RL, OC

Authors Note: It has been mentioned in the story but now I am noting it here. I am a fan of Diana Gabaldon’s ‘Outlander’/’Cross Stitch’ series and definitely was influenced by that in writing this story – i.e. the Standing Stones and traveling through time. But I also love Philip Pullman’s ‘His Dark Materials’ series and the tv programme ‘Sliders’ and the alternate universes alongside ours idea comes from there no doubt.

Fantasy/Drama

This story is rated R/M.

ENIGMA

Chapter 010: The Plot Thickens

“I can’t believe this day is finally here,” Jessica said softly as she and Remus walked towards what she had known in her world to be the location of the Buy The Book Emporium in Fulham, Southwest London. Her neck was beginning to ache from looking around so much. This was the world of Harry Potter’s Muggles. She was looking for something, anything that would somehow make some sense of what had happened to her and just how different Muggle life here was. Starting with her old home in London seemed as good a place as any to start.

Severus was supposed to have done this with her, but as had been the case he was indisposed. Whatever his excuses were, they must have been reasonable for Dumbledore to have not put his foot down and insist that he handle this most delicate of matters as had originally been agreed. Remus stuck out like a sore thumb in his shabby, patched up clothes and even in this Muggle world such a derelict appearance was frowned upon judging from the looks they were getting here and there. It was hard to be inconspicuous – then again Severus didn’t exactly melt into the background either.

“Where is it again?” Lupin asked, pulling out an old battered copy of London A-Z and squinting at the detailed map that was Fulham.

“Well – it was on the New King’s Road…” Jessica said frowning. “…Which is where we are now…”

Lupin looked at her. “But…?”

“But I don’t see it… It was a commercial hub; but this is all residential…”

Jessica looked forlornly down a long street of endless rows of pebble-dashed terraced housing on either side. This New King’s Road had definitely seen better days, considering the bland dreariness of the place.

“That is quite some difference then.”

“Well – it’s as if the gentrification I knew had never happened. In my world, most of what are now really posh, expensive areas in London used to be either slums or seriously working class. Fulham, Notting Hill, Islington… especially the Angel in Islington…”

“Which all exist here, and from what I know are not the most desirable places to live by any stretch of the imagination,“ Lupin said as he patted the A-Z. “It doesn’t surprise me that there are some things that are very different to what you know…”

“Maybe she can help…” Jessica muttered as a young girl dressed in a puffa jacket, tracksuit, giant gold hoop earrings and several tacky gold necklaces walked towards them pushing a cheap pink Barbie stroller. As if one screaming infant wasn’t enough she was clearly expecting another one. From the looks of her she was about to drop any minute. “Excuse me – can you direct us to the nearest market? We need to get some bits and pieces for a friend’s party…”

The girl looked them over. “Yous ain’t from ‘round ‘ere innit…” the girl answered bullishly in a hard London accent.

“Erm – no; we are visiting a colleague from work… wanted to get some things to take along. Can you just direct us towards the market?”

The young girl looked Lupin up and down. Too late Jessica realised that her excuse didn’t make in sense given his undeniably impoverished appearance and her own immaculate and typically stylish one. She always looked as though she took great care of her appearance because she did. Her grandmother had always said just because a person doesn’t have much money doesn’t mean they have to look it or live like it. Try telling that to a werewolf, Jessica thought fleetingly.

“Won’t get no gear down theh,” the girl said knowingly. “And theh ain’t no one wot will tell ya wheh to gow neevah if you already don’… Yous ain’t from ‘round ‘ere…”

Lupin looked confused while Jessica looked horrified. The girl thought they were trying to score some drugs, that much was obvious.

“We are not looking for that – we just want to know the main road you do your shopping on; your local High Street. I thought it was this one – but obviously I’m wrong…”

“Uh huh, suit yerself – ‘Ammasmiff road then,” the girl sniffed before waddling off. They watched as she turned a corner, screaming at the howling child in the pram.

“Jesus Christ!” Jessica hissed. “Some things change and too many of the wrong things remain the same!”

Lupin sighed. They’d had many discussions about the ills of the world Jessica had left behind. Children having children they definitely weren’t prepared to raise properly was just one topic.

“Let’s find this Hammersmith road…” he said squinting at the A-Z again. “Ahh – there it is, I’d say it’s roughly a 10-minute walk.”

“OK, Chav and Chavette central it is then…” Jessica replied as they began to walk.

“Chav?” Lupin asked. “Erm – what exactly is that?”

“Her…”

“That’s not very nice…”

“What? That’s what she is… a Chav…”

“Whatever the label – it doesn’t sound very nice…”

“It depends on your point of view…”

“I wouldn’t have thought that you could be like that…”

“Be like what – are you saying I’m a snob?”

“You used the term, I didn’t…”

“Look Remus, in my world everything and everyone gets a label, just like yours. Hogwarts is no better! I don’t particularly like it and I‘m not going to excuse myself because we all do it in some fashion. But for your information, Chavs are quite the business now back home. There is a lot of money to be made by adopting that lifestyle if you read the fashion and gossip magazines – not that I particularly agree with it. You have some nerve, getting so high and mighty with me – you mean to tell me that you are so damn perfect that not once have you ever been not so nice – towards anyone, not ever in your life? Have you always been the good guy – even with your mates back in the day at school?”

The werewolf was stunned into silence. Once again, it seemed as though Jessica knew far more than he would believe she did. But how could she? How could she possibly know about the Marauders and the antics they perpetrated that would now be seen for what it was: bullying. She seemed to be quite intuitive, truly intuitive in a way that the Divinations staff at Hogwarts were not – Sybil Trelawney the most notable. There were many times when he felt she knew him – really knew him. And it was unsettling in more ways than one. But he didn’t want there to be problems between them, not after they had come so far with each other.

Jessica went silent and sullen. She continued to be that way as they walked.

“We can have some breakfast somewhere and then go to the British Library afterwards… Then I can take you to Diagon Alley…” Lupin suggested, breaking the tension.

“Forget it – this was a bad idea. I want to go – NOW!”

“Jessica please; we can have a quick bite to eat…”

“Right!”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t do it, can you?” Jessica said in amazement.

“Can’t do what?”

“You can’t admit it when things are wrong; you can’t admit that you’re wron no matter how reasonable you want to make yourself out to be. You cant see the need to acknowledge it and apologise to make things right! You just plod along and pretend it didn’t happen and that by ignoring the obvious and being so bloody nice and benign that everything will be fine! Well I’m sick of it! Life doesn’t work like that Remus and the sooner you face up to that the better everyone else will be! Everything you do and don’t do has serious repercussions and you don’t seem to care! You’re not stupid – and neither am I. You have to be willing to face up to things even if it hurts and then move on even if we have to agree to disagree! I am not going to live my life like acting like everything is ok when it isn’t!”

Jessica had cut to the heart of the matter as tended to be her way. The werewolf was like a deer in headlights; it was the first time in his life anyone he liked had ever been critical of him in that way and to his face. It was criticism of his way of dealing with things, not his affliction and Remus wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

In his quest to be liked, Lupin often ignored the obvious and especially with the few friends he’d had. There were many things he simply refused to contemplate and Jessica had just seen it for herself firsthand. He’d been so used to being that way and for getting away with it for so long that being confronted about his weaknesses left him paralysed.

He’d always thought he was no different than a lot of people except for the fact that he was a werewolf. His affliction coloured everything, particularly how he lived and related to others. He worked overtime to be likeable because of what he was and what he didn’t have. It was easy for Jessica to judge, he thought by way of an excuse, because she had no clue what his life was really like. But she had some semblance, little did he want to believe. The homeless, particularly those with chronic addictions or mental illness in her world were no better than the werewolves in his in some ways. She did sympathise – in ways that were very important. But Lupin wasn’t one to dig deep when he should – another mistake and one unacknowledged by him.

And as always, it cost him and those around him.

Remus said nothing, but Jessica could tell that yet again he would do what he could to dodge a bullet. That was as much him as his Mr. Chips persona was even in Canon.

“Forget it then – since you do that so bloody well,” she said darkly. “Take me home!”

“If that’s what you want… but,”

“Take me home now – please!”

As they made their way back to the Portkey that would return them to the woods near Hogwarts, both Lupin and Jessica wondered if their friendship could ever recover from this ill-fated trip into the Muggle reality of the wizarding world.

Knowing how sad and unsettled Jessica had been, all Lupin had wanted to do was make her happy so that she would stay. He still wanted it.

The werewolf couldn’t bear losing the only friend he had, the only real friend he’d had in many years.

xxxXXXxxx

Snape sat in his office, wallowing in misery. Over and over he had berated himself for the intimacy between he and Jessica, but to no avail. Everyday it was the same thing ad nauseum. When he woke, he anticipated seeing her at breakfast; rushed through the morning’s duties hoping for even the most fleeting of glimpses at lunch; and then endured torturous afternoons until he could see her at dinner. There was no point, however. He had not seen her, nor had anyone else for well over a week now. The less he saw of her the more he had wanted to see her.

McGonagall was not terribly concerned; Jessica had been spending long hours in the Library tackling the mess that was Pince’s handiwork at interfering with progress. She would have to put in long hours given her non-magical nature. But at least McGonagall had finally had a word with Pince, telling her that if she was not going to be professional and courteous to her colleague, then at least she could stop with her vain attempts at undermining Jessica’s very senior position and the important work she was doing for the benefit of all of them.

The Potions master was all too aware of the blossoming friendship between Lupin and Jessica. He didn’t like it and he didn’t have to. As he turned it round in his head, he finally realised what needed to be done; the one thing that should have been done long ago. Jessica was very intelligent and logical – she would definitely put two and two together.

She needed to know the truth about her little ‘friend’ and he would see to it that she did.

xxxXXXxxx

Several more days had passed and still no one had seen Jessica. She was holed up in the Library, working even more overtime she wouldn’t get paid for because Pince had decided she needed a break from ‘the stress of the job’. All the Librarian had to do was sit on her bony arse manning the front desk; but as she’d simply gone off of her own accord, there was nothing Dumbledore or McGonagall could do about it. Jessica was left to do both their jobs by herself.

She was at the front desk with a mound of old paperwork and managing to work on Acquisitions while alternately directing books to their shelves with a simple charm that the Headmaster had rigged such that they zoomed overhead to the appropriate destination at her command. It looked as though Jessica was doing it herself, when in fact it was Dumbledore accomplishing the task through her.

“Excuse me,” came a boy’s voice. “I need some help…are you Miss Newkirk?”

Jessica looked up and was barely able to get a hold of herself as she looked into the brightest green eyes she’d ever seen, the trademark round glasses notwithstanding.

“Of course; I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Jessica Newkirk, the Library Sciences Administrator…” Jessica said offering her hand.

“I’m Harry, Harry Potter…”

Jessica resisted the temptation to say ‘I know’ and simply gave him a smile as she nodded at the weedy-looking 13 year-old standing in front of her with glasses too big for his face. As in fiction, the real-life Harry Potter had the lightning bolt scar. Unlike fiction and very much like the films, the scar was over his ‘Third Eye’ (the spot between his eyebrows but above them). This made more sense to Jessica, given the spiritual significance of the Third Eye and its relevance to magical practices in her world, for what Harry had gone through as a baby was nothing less than a very profound spiritual experience.

“Ah – Miss Granger’s friend…”

“Taking my name in vain was she?”

“Yours and Ronald Weasley’s; though yours not as much as his.”

Harry grinned. He explained that he and Ron had been copying Hermione’s notes a bit too much for her liking lately. Ron had been caught red-handed looking at her completed assignment for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He’d gotten a fierce bollocking from her and she ordered both of to get packing to the Library, instructions which Ron conveniently ignored as usual. Harry would have – but he didn’t have time to waste with so much on at the moment.

Jessica laughed; this scenario she knew all too well from reading the books and also from what Hermione herself had told her only an hour before. “So – how can I help?”

“Snape took over Defense Against the Dark Arts and gave us an essay – two rolls of parchment on werewolves to be on his desk first thing Monday morning…”

“Professor Snape, Mr. Potter,” Jessica said slowly as pins and needles of déjà vu ran up and down her spine. “But it’s Quidditch tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I said…”

“Which didn’t go down too well I would imagine…”

“Erm – no it didn’t.”

Jessica frowned. According to Rowling Canon Hermione had by now worked out that Lupin was a werewolf – a secret which she would be keeping from her friends until the fateful night escaped convict Sirius Black made his presence known. It was just one of many fateful things that would happen that night – which if memory served her correct was not really that far off now. That night would change so many things and not for the better so far as she could see from Books 4 through 6.

“Right. Well, are you familiar with the Dewey Decimal System?” she said out loud.

“The what?”

“…Answers that question. We have a new system in place which will help you find what you want on your own when needed,” Jessica said gesturing to a pamphlet of dark blue parchment on the desk. “I’m sure you are familiar with the classification system used by most libraries? Organising books with numerical classification by subject?”

“Oh – yeah; yes I am. We had that at my old school before I came here… a card catalogue thingybob.”

“Well, that’s the Dewey Decimal System.”

“Erm – didn’t know that…”

Jessica chuckled. No doubt Potter had been told and like anything kids consider too much information had simply let it go in one ear and out the other. She handed him a pamphlet and directed him to follow her.

“Card catalogues are very much a thing of the past, mine especially, but we are much more modern than that thank goodness. We have the latest WizNet terminals and they are up and running – extremely simple but very efficient and they get the job done. Now follow the directions from the pamphlet about registering and then log in,” she instructed as he took a seat in front of a wizarding contraption similar to a computer. The Library had 10 of them with another 10 on the way. Their acquisition was her proudest achievement so far and thanks to Professor Flitwick. Though very tiny in stature, he had proven a formidable powerhouse when it came to dealing with the Ministry of Magic on her behalf.

Jessica hadn’t been surprised to discover that the Ministry bigwigs made use of the ideas behind Muggle-based technology when it suited them. Hogwarts had been very behind the times in comparison to other European magical schools – and the Ministry didn’t want its approach to wizarding education to seem terribly backward now that it was being pointed out to them. It hadn’t taken much to get what Jessica and Flitwick knew was needed to bring the library into the modern age. It was evolving such that it would be on par with the Ministerial Libraries within a year or so if her innovative programme continued.

“Mr, Potter – I don’t think ‘Pothead’ is a suitable username…”

“I was just seeing if you were paying attention,” Harry grinned.

“I had no idea you were so cheeky,” Jessica replied with a grin of her own.

“Hermione said you are really nice…”

“Is that a fact Charmer? Snitchseeker? Pretty obvious isn’t it?”

“Could be worse; I could have said…”

“Too much information,” Jessica laughed holding up her hand. She knew the rude word that was coming and didn’t need Harry to fill in the blank. But once again she was struck about aspects of the real life personas that were being revealed that she’d never seen in fiction. “If you are going with that then pick a 10-character alpha-numeric password and a unique question no one but you could guess and answer.”

Harry thought for a moment and then completed his task.

“Good,” Jessica said as she pulled up a seat a next to him. “The system allows you to browse the contents of the library. As we are always updating the stacks it’s important to refresh periodically after logging in. To do a search – type in the subject matter… Yes, that’s it. Now – you are being given a list according to classification. There are works of fiction, plays, poems etc and so on. Now – given the nature of Professor Snape’s assignment I think its safe to assume that your resources should be non-fiction, and drawn from the Dark Arts, Magical Creatures and Magical History. You can see that those categories are amongst the classifications in your results. Now click on any of them and you see the Dewey classification number next to each book title. You can click on the title to get information about the book. You can do much more than that, but for the moment just print out the list of results from the areas I mentioned and let’s hit the stacks. All that’s left is going to the appropriate section labeled with the Dewey number…”

“Hey this is pretty cool,” Harry said beaming. His cousin Dudley had been given a computer as a present once and broken it the minute he got it. Like everything else useless and broken, it was dumped in the small bedroom that used to be Dudley’s playroom he used at his Aunt and Uncle’s house. He’d always wanted to try a computer – they looked wicked when he’d seen them in shops on display. He knew this wasn’t quite the same, but at Hogwarts it was definitely better than just alright. It was certainly better than dealing with Pince.

He followed Jessica to the stacks and she showed him how the numbering worked. In no time at all he found himself staring at shelf after shelf of books that had information on werewolves

“So – two rolls of parchment; that’s roughly 5 handwritten A4 pages, double-sided,” Jessica said calculating in her head.

“Really? So – are you a Muggle-born then?” Harry blurted out without thinking.

“No. I was raised amongst Muggles and wasn’t allowed to use magic for anything. Had to get by just like a Muggle would… I was educated the Muggle way and went to University… I was working at the British Library before this… It’s what my mother wanted and no one was about to argue…”

“How did you end up here then?” Harry asked, clearly mystified as to how someone like that could be at Hogwarts.

“Professor McGonagall – she’s my cousin… She was catching up on the family and came to see me quite a bit when I lived in London after she found out I was here. I had done all I could in my old job and it was time to move on; I was talking to her about it one day and before I knew it she’d arranged a few meetings with the Headmaster and next thing I know, here I am… It all happened rather fast, now that I think about it.”

Jessica was so used to thinking about and repeating her story that it had become her mantra, her truth, to a degree. As the days wore on and she continued to not wake up from this nightmare, she simply accepted that the nightmare was a living entity and she was in it for the duration.

She continued to work with Harry on his essay, including giving him direction on English Composition. There were a few tricks that were valuable to know and one in particular which made the structure of the essay easy to approach. Having already worked with a number of students, including Hermione, Jessica was of the opinion that the basics were being ignored at Hogwarts to their detriment.

And while Hermione had a decided flair for memorizing and repeating by rote, she was not intellectual in the way the fandom tended to make her out to be any more than Snape was. Nor was she a particularly gifted writer as such, no matter how many high grades her essays were awarded. Hermione crammed as many facts as she could cross-reference onto her scrolls. What she did with cross referencing was incredible in its own way and there wasn’t anyone who did as much as she did – but Jessica could see that Hermione was driven by insecurities and overcompensated for them with her bossy, high-strung, know-it-all demeanour which was at its worse when the girl was stressed and under pressure to perform. What the Gryffindor did was not proper intellectual discourse. Hogwarts students were being graded on their ability with regurgitating facts, not the analysis or interpretation of them. The more Jessica saw of it from all the students who came to her for help, the she was resolved to do something about it.

After a couple of hours, Harry’s essay was done and he was feeling quite proud of himself. And Jessica was feeling very pleased that she was doing something constructive besides stocking books.

“Thanks very much Miss; I’d be staring at the walls if you hadn’t helped…” Harry said as he packed his things.

“Happy to help Mr. Potter, anytime…”

“I’ll remember that,” Harry replied cheerfully. “See you at dinner Miss…”

“Unfortunately no,” Jessica replied grimly gesturing to the mounds of work heaped at the front desk.

“Erm – isn’t there a charm or something to sort all that out?”

Leave it to the boy who usually wasn’t thinking straight to ask a very logical question, Jessica thought to herself. Used to thinking fast on her feet, and mindful of a chat she’d had with Lupin, she did the best she could do, and told a slightly altered version of the truth.

“Well I have a little bit of a problem, between you and me…”

Jessica gave Harry a look that made it clear he was not to discuss this with anyone else.

“No problem,” Harry said moving close and opening his pamphlet as if she were discussing it with him. Several Slytherins had sauntered in, no doubt to tackle the werewolf essay.

“I’m not terribly good at that sort of thing, magic… Wasn’t allowed at home at all – never,” Jessica whispered conspiratorially. “Besides I am so used to doing things the Muggle way it’s taking me a while to sort myself out here… The Headmaster is going to have to work with me a bit… but no one else can know that Harry, it wouldn’t be good for me – know what I mean?”

Harry nodded solemnly.

“Not even Hermione or Ron, deal?”

“Deal,” Harry replied. “Hermione would be trying to sort you out… you’d never get rid of her.”

“She already is,” Jessica replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “She has met her match in some ways and I think I challenge her…”

“Erm – you do. She told me – but don’t tell her I said…”

“Shake?” Jessica asked extending her hand.

She then flipped into a soul brutha handshake West Philly style causing Harry to laugh.

“You definitely aren’t from around here…”

“’West Philadelphia born and raised; on the playground was where I spent most of my days’…,” Jessica rapped imitating Will Smith, a.k.a. ‘The Fresh Prince’ and the theme from a TV show she used to love called ‘The Fresh Prince of Bel Air’.

“Can you help me with my History of Magic Essay? I wanted to work on it on Sunday…” Harry laughed. To him, Jessica was a breath of fresh air in the doom and often uptight gloom of Hogwarts – as much as he really did love school.

“Sure; I’ll come in at two – that should give us enough time so that you have a break before dinner… We can go over some of the elements of Composition again if you want.”

“Great!” Harry beamed as he tucked the pamphlet into his bag. “My marks in the class are rubbish…”

Jessica resisted the temptation to say ‘I know’ as she watched his retreating form. Harry turned and gave her a wave before trotting off to the Gryffindor common room.

For the first time in a long time, Jessica wondered if it were possible to change the fate of the wizarding world, and the Boy Who Lived.