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

Fantasy/Drama

This story is rated R/M.


ENIGMA


Chapter 002: Into the Void

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Jessica snorted in her sleep and rolled over, pulling a pillow half over her head.

BAM! KICK! BAM!

“Whaa?” she mumbled as one eye half opened.

“JESS!” a voice boomed through the sound of rain and low rumbles of thunder. “JESS WAKE THE HELL UP!”

“What the?” Jessica grumbled sleepily as she rolled over onto her side and glanced at the alarm clock. It was 5:00am – an ungodly hour for anyone to come calling, especially uninvited even if it was Friday and a Bank Holiday weekend.

KICK! BAM! KICK!

“DAMMIT YOU LAZY GIT GET UP!”

Jessica forced herself out of bed and over to the bank of windows facing the front garden.

“MARILYN! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND!” she yelled out the window, grateful that there were no neighbors to fall out with. She’d only been in the place for a month and already the illusion of peace and quiet was disintegrating. “What are you doing here anyway!”

“Open the damn door and I’ll tell you! It’s bloody freezing out here!”

Jessica swore a blue streak as she put on her bathrobe and stormed down the stairs. With Marilyn it had to be one of four things: her pain-in-the-arse family; Didier, a rather interesting Frenchman she liked using for whatever she could get; her ex Andrew whom she couldn’t get out of her system and also put up a massive front about; or whoever her latest unfortunate shag on the side was. God only knew how Marilyn got her new address, but there would be hell to pay when Jessica found out who was obviously giving her personal details out to all and sundry.

She flung open the door and looked at the rain-soaked figure with thinly-veiled contempt. Marilyn had this habit of confessing things to Jessica and then denying them to everyone else – making Jessica look like either a bold-faced liar or a shyte stirrer to some people. Marilyn conveniently never did anything to correct that assumption about the only person that had tolerated her and the accompanying bullshit the most. They had fallen out ages ago and as far as Jessica was concerned not only was there nothing to say, the troublemaker on her doorstep would be on her way back to London before she could spell ‘Quidditch’.


“I am not interested; I don’t care…” she hissed darkly.

“Aww come on – don’t be like that!”

Jessica took a step back.

“Right – so this means that you are going to go back and clear up all the crap that has been going ‘round about me for the last few months does it?”

“Dunnowotyou’reonaboutmate…”

“What? What’s that? Don’t think I caught that!”

“Why are you being such a bitch? I come all the way up here out of the kindness of my heart, to see how you are and help you out…”

“Ah! So THAT’S it! They kicked you out, didn’t they? Wore out your welcome AGAIN and here you come! Well I’m NOT having it! You will not treat my home like some tatty old doss house again! You never paid me back for the damage you did the last time and I’m lucky that Noel and Angela didn’t give ME the boot for helping you out!”

Marilyn had a bad habit of falling out with roommates no matter what house or flat-share she managed to find. Despite her own very bad problems, Jessica had allowed Marilyn to stay with her in the old flat in London several times and the damage the last time had been the worst of all the times she’d ended up staying ‘for just one night’ (which always spiraled into a month or two). Marilyn was also another one who didn’t want to really know Jessica when times were rough, but Jessica knew what it was like to not have a roof over her head, and against her better judgment had always fallen prey to sob stories.

Noel and Angela had lost their rag over Marilyn’s loudness and slovenly manner as much as her rudeness. They had laid down the law and they and Jessica were none too surprised to see how fast the troublemaker landed on her feet once she was told she had to go. But sooner or later her charmed luck would have to run out. Marilyn’s circle of friends wasn’t so large that all possibilities wouldn’t be exhausted, and probably at a most inconvenient time. It was obvious this was it.

“Look – let me just chill for the day, stay the night yeah?”

“You’re a user Marilyn – and I don’t have the time or the inclination anymore… And what really makes it bad is coming from a family like yours with all your money and privilege. You have no idea what it’s like to struggle. Even when I was living in homeless accommodation I took you in – they could have thrown me out and you didn’t give a shit as long as you got yours… It’s taken me a long time to get some stability and peace in my life and I am not going to let you or anyone ruin it!”

“Oh so that’s how it is? Get a little money and it goes to your head?”

“I am not even going to dignify that with a comment…you found your way up here, you can find your way back. Go back to your parents with their estate and fancy titles. Ah, but they don’t want you either Lady Whatever you are… You use them like you use everyone else. Grow up, Marilyn and sort yourself out.”

Marilyn glowered, looking as if she was ready to strike out.

“Just try it,” Jessica said darkly, “and I will make you sorry you were ever born…now get the hell off my property and don’t show your sorry arse up here ever again!”

Jessica slammed the door and double-bolted it as always. There was swearing and name-calling and more pounding. Jessica frowned. Fortunately she hadn’t closed the window. She moved behind the curtains on one side, just enough so that she was hidden though her voice would be audible to her unwelcome intruder.


“Hello? Is this the police station in Looeman-Upon-Ardsmuir village? I have a trespasser on my property who is being abusive and I can’t get her to leave me alone. That’s right – a woman…” Jessica went on to give Marilyn’s name and her official aristocratic title along with a description.

There was a further round of swearing from outside, for a moment it sounded like there was someone else out there with Marilyn and then it went quiet. Jessica looked out her window to confirm that the troublemaker was headed back towards the road where no doubt she would hitch a ride. After 10 minutes or so she blinked her eyes. She must be tired – there seemed to be a bright green flash of light momentarily in the thicket of trees that Marilyn had to have gone into. That didn’t make any sense, but then again nothing about the whole morning did. After another minute or two she crawled back into bed, wide awake staring out the window.

Marilyn’s visit did not bode well. Trouble had to be looming on the horizon.

In fact, it was just around the corner.

…xxxXXXxxx…

Later that day Jessica found herself driving to Inverness to collect Angela from the rail station. Noel was away for a week with some of his friends in at a Real Madrid match in the Spanish capital. It was as good an excuse as any for the two women to spend some quality time together without him. Two more of their friends were coming as well, being the ‘football widows’ that they were.

She was spotted outside the Starbuck’s coffee shop in the station before she could even see her houseguests.

“BOO!” hissed a familiar voice, causing Jessica to jump.

“Jesus H. Christ, Trisha…you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

There was a low chuckle.

“Please…you were a million miles away… Aimee, Angela – will you guys hurry up, damn!”

Jessica arched an eyebrow – if Trisha was that much in a hurry she definitely wanted something, food was the most likely guess.

“I’m starvin’ like Marvin,” Trisha said rubbing her stomach.

“What?” Aimee said incredulously as Jessica burst out laughing. “She nearly bought out the dining carriage – Cornish Pasties, a couple of Paninis, a salad…”

“Alright, paint a vivid picture why don’t you,” Trisha sniffed, clearly offended – though why was anybody’s guess. She was fashionably thin even though she at enough for two or three people sometimes.

“Listen – there is plenty for you at home. You can get Starbuck’s anytime…” Jessica said as she poked her friend.

“Exactly what I said,” Angela said with a wink. “Damn I have missed your cooking Jess.”

“Ah, so that’s it; the secret is finally out. The only thing you care about is being fed!”

The four friends roared with laughter, oblivious to the annoyed looks being thrown their way by stressed-out passengers and people waiting for new arrivals.

“Come on – let’s blow this joint,” Jessica said as she took a shoulder bag from Angela and a cosmetics case from Trisha. “Bloody hell – this thing weighs a ton! What’ve you got in here?”


“A few bits and bobs; you know – just in case…”

“Just in case nothing. I thought we agreed, no pub crawling – just chilling out!” Aimee said with a distinctive frown.

“Wot?”

“Forget the innocent act, it won’t work on her…” Angela replied with a smirk of her own.

Jessica had a reputation for being more than a bit of an ice queen when it suited her. Trisha wasn’t going to win this one – but she was bound and determined to give it a good try anyway.

“Anyone looking to party can turn around and go back to London,” Jessica sniffed as she stood still in the car park with her arms folded across her chest.

“That won’t be necessary, will it ladies?” Angela said looking over at Aimee and Trisha, who was now trying desperately to look innocent.

“No problem – all I want is some peace and quiet…”

“Trisha?” Angela asked, nudging the guilty party in the ribs heartily.

“OW! Erm – yeah peace and quiet and all that malarkey…”

“There’s the station…”Jessica said blithely as she unlocked the boot of her Land Rover and started heaving bags in with Aimee’s help. “But I have a nice grill meal planned for dinner; barbecue, potato salad, dinner rolls – the works…”

Trisha started heaving in her suitcases.

“Smell that fresh air,” she said as she took a rather dramatic breath deeply. “Can’t wait to see those standing stones and…”

“OK we get the picture,” Jessica said with a big grin as they all piled in to her 4x4.

The dark cloud that had hovered in the background since Marilyn’s visit seemed to be lifting.

…xxxXXXxxx…

“This place is gorgeous, Jess, really…” Trisha said admiringly.

Jessica wasn’t one to spend a ton of money on anything she could do herself. The DIY spirit had definitely taken hold from the looks of her house.

“I’d rather save the money for the big jobs…and any emergencies. Thank God I don’t have a mortgage…”

“You didn’t do too badly on the garden – just keep it nice and trimmed…” Aimee said as they looked in the general direction that lead to the steep hill where standing stones had been erected at the summit in an age long past.

“How about a walk before dinner and we can catch up on some of the goss?” Jessica asked as she led them out her back gate. “You will never believe who turned up this morning!”

Angela groaned. “Marilyn…”

“That girl is nothing but trouble,” Aimee said angrily. “She screws everybody over and then blames them for her problems…”


“The only problem she’s got is that silver spoon she was born with…” Trisha commented. “She is in trouble – really big trouble… I take it you didn’t let her stay?”

“Hell no,” Jessica replied, “She has worn out her welcome with me. I won’t make that mistake anymore. She owes me so much money…”

“You and half of London,” Aimee said knowingly. “Including a drug dealer from what I’ve heard!”

“WHAT?”

“Yep – hooked on some serious stuff thanks to that no-talent slacker musician she’s been shagging ‘for fun’. He’s so off his head even his druggie band mates kicked him out! And her with him since she was dossing at their place…”

“Well I never!” Jessica said furiously.

“The Duke and Duchess of Winterthorne will not entertain having her Ladyship back unless she gets clean – they booked her a spot at that posh place where all the celebrities go in America – you know, like Kate Moss and Tara Palmer-Tomkinson…”

Jessica rolled her eyes at they made their way up the hill. Just before they reached the summit they heard noise coming from the other side.

“Quick – over here!” she said under her breath shooing her friends towards a group of oversized boulders that they could hide behind

Walking over the ridge on the opposite side was a motley group in black cloaks carrying drawstring bags and using ornate walking sticks.

“Oh great, a bunch of New-Age Witchy wanna-bees,” Angela whispered.

Jessica nodded heartily. She definitely knew what it was like to have people abusing sacred traditions. To her mind, none had probably had their traditions more maligned for the sake of popular culture than the Native American. Even here in the British Isles, one came across them at fairs, so-called historical recreations (even those that had nothing to do with ‘Red Indians’ and various historical spots much beloved by people eager to make a fast buck such Glastonbury and Tintagel.

“Watch – bet they throw in some phony Lakota Sioux rituals they ‘found’ online along with a bit of New Orleans Voodoo…” Jessica whispered back.

She and her friends fell silent.

They watched as the group lit torches and placed them at four corners. A pentagram was drawn (“Bloody Hell!” Angela whispered again, “They’ve done that ALL WRONG!”). Jessica had a dark look on her face – even she could tell that already whatever was to come couldn’t be right. The four friends watched tensely as a pseudo altar was erected and items of a dubious nature were placed on it and within the spaces of the pentagram. There were two fearsome looking knives – the looks of which sent a cold chill down the backs of all four women.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Jessica said earnestly. “I don’t want none of that coming back on me…”

“Yeah – it’s giving me the willies and all,” Trisha agreed.

Jessica was as familiar with the surrounding landscape as she was her own house. She gestured to her friends to follow and then moved stealthily away from the scene into the darkness. All four seemed to hold their breath for what felt like an eternity down the hill. They were silent, not even look at each other until the comforting light from Jessica’s house beckoned to them through the moonshine now illuminating the countryside around them.

“Don’t look back; seriously bad luck,” Jessica warned. You could take the Nanticoke-Lenni Lenape away from her traditions, but you could never take the traditions away from the Nanticoke-Lenni Lenape.

“Wot?” asked Trisha who had already done just that at least a few times.

“Oh for goodness sake…” Angela said exasperatedly.

“That was close…” Aimee said once they stepped inside Jessica’s kitchen and bolted the door behind them.

“Well – you’ve seen all there is to see up there and a bit more than even I bargained for,” Jessica said as she arranged some logs in her sitting room fireplace and then lit a fire.

“I don’t need to see anything else. I’m happy to chill here…” Angela said, looking very relieved. “Still – thanks to you Trisha old girl we need to do a cleansing…a proper one.”

“I’ve got sage smudge sticks to hand – had a load left over from when I cleaned the house that first night…” Jessica said as she moved her studio. A few moments later she was back with a Blessed Eagle Feather and a few of the smudge sticks. An hour and a half later the four friends were seated around the dinner table gossiping about the goings on in London…

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

Trisha was clearly spooked. Her glass of wine burst where it sat on the table and shards of glass flew outwards.

“What the…” she whispered.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

“Dammit – I told her to LEAVE!” Jessica hissed under her breath.

“You think?”

“Who else – I’m not expecting anyone…” she said as she rose.

Aimee reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Don’t answer that…” she said darkly. “If it’s Marilyn she’ll get tired of her silly games and head back to London. You aren’t expecting anyone so not your problem…”

“I have no intention of being bothered; ignore it and let me go get the dessert…”

She went into the kitchen and focused on the crème brûlée she needed to take out of the oven. Just as she’d open the oven door there were screams and the sound of running. She nearly dropped hot ceramic dish and crossed furiously to the door. She opened it to a scene of carnage. Several figures in cloaks and grotesque skull’s masks were standing over the body of what appeared to be Angela. ‘Appeared’ being the operative word as she had been cut by something so bad she was almost unrecognizable. The walls and parquet flooring were awash with her blood.


“NO! PLEASE!” came a familiar voice from the living room before falling silent.

“THERE SHE IS! GET HER! NOW – BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!” someone shouted.

A figure lunged towards her and Jessica threw the dish, and then ran out the back of the house. Clouds had crossed in front of the moon, and there was nothing but blackness once she had cleared the back gate. She ran, pulled forward by some unknown force. The howls of pain of whoever it was that the boiling hot dessert had connected with had died off. She kept running even past the pain of breathing. She felt herself moving upwards.

As she reached the summit the clouds moved again and there was a green beam of green light that just missed her.

“YOU IMBECILE!” a man’s voice roared in the distance behind her.

Jessica stumbled into the centre of the circle, were the New-Agers, if that is what they were, had been earlier. There were two stones parallel to each other and there was a faint noise coming them – or was it behind her? Or was it all around the circle?

The chaos of millennia past, present and future and so much more reached out to her.

“NO!” came another roar as she stumbled between the parallel stones which she could now see were covered in blood. “DAMN IT WE CANNOT BE TRAPPED HERE!”

The world that she knew and those that had murdered her best friends fell away in a hail of noise, light and darkness.

Another awaited her.