Um, well- I'll just hope someone will actually read this one day. Nevermind, if you are the only soul to ever read this- hi! I'm writing just for the two of us. Oh, did I mention? All comments welcome!

------

"Oh. Now you're kidding. You had me going. I'd laugh except that I'd probably pass out."

"Who are you? Who sent you here?"

"My name's Jane Watts. No one sent me but someone must have brought me here. I don't know where I am. I'm wondering if I'm hallucinating you. Am I? would you tell me if I were? I think I've hit my head pretty hard, Professor."

His suspicion seemed to lessen just a bit. He let his eyes rove over her again. "Judging by that large lump on your forehead I would say that you are correct." His tone was gentler now.

"Aren't you sorts supposed to care for your fellow man or something?"

"You sorts?"

"Priests, monks, fathers, brothers, professors, whatever you are?"

"Ah."

"Well, aren't you?"

"If I were, what would you have me do, exactly?"

"Help! Find a blanket. Call a doctor. Look, I'm American-"

"I had gathered that much."

"Are we in Nassau?"

"Nassau?"

"We're not in Nassau?"

"We are in Scotland. Is that a bone sticking out of your ankle?"

"There is a Scotland in the Bahamas?"

"Not as far as I know."

"North of England? That Scotland? Oh right. Yeah, very funny. Look, I'm really hurt. And, yes, that is a bone sticking out. I don't think I want to play Harry Potter anymore. I appreciate you trying to take my mind off things; but, you're kind of freaking me out."

"How do you know that name?"

"What name?"

"Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter is a cultural phenomenon."

"You are a Squib?"

"Um, look- Professor- is there another brother or priest or professor or whatever, is there anyone else around here, anybody at all?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh you know, so long as we're playing Harry Potter, the more the merrier, right? Can I talk to," No. Albus Dumbledore was a bad choice in light of the Half-Blood Prince. God she hurt way too much to have to humor an insane monk, "Professor McGonagall? Or Madame Pomfrey?"

He was giving her that look again, as if it were some huge mystery that she knew these names. Actually, the man did quite a decent impression of Snape, all things considered. Tall, dark eyed, with long dark hair- physically he was right for the part, though this man was the other end of the spectrum from what she'd call repulsive. Then again, so was Alan Rickman. He did a fine job with Snape in the movies. This man's accent sounded right, too, especially when he finally said, "Professor McGonagall is away on holiday. I will take you to Madame Pomfrey."

"Professor, thing is, I don't think I can walk on my own, or even with a whole lot of help. Could you bring Madame Pomfrey to me?"

Before she could protest, the man had knelt down on one knee, gathered her in his arms and lifted her like she weighed nothing more than a sack of feathers. She managed to grab the handkerchief before it sailed to the floor. He was walking too fast for it to give her body any sort of coverage. It was more like the surrender flag flying on the S.S. Jane. Holy Rasputin, Batman, but this mad monk was strong! Strong and insane is such a bad combination too. But he was really warm, hot even, and his body heat was making her feel really sleepy. She only hoped that he was taking her somewhere that she might want to go. Not that there was much that she could do about it if he weren't- not that she wouldn't try.

He whisked her down endless passageways, up countless stone steps, down more passageways. Where ever she was, this structure was frigging huge! That or he was walking around in a circle. Still, it would have been a really big circle; therefore the place was still frigging huge. Finally he put her down very softly, very careful of her ankle, on a bed. That might have been somewhat alarming except that it was the first in a neat row of beds. There was a medicinally clean smell about this room. She did indeed get the sense that she was in some kind of infirmary.

"Goodness, Severus! Who is this woman? Is she a Muggle? What happened to her? Where are her clothes? Why were you carrying her?"

"I do not know who she is, Poppy. If she is a Muggle, she has knowledge that she should not possess. I found her in the dungeons. I do not know what became of her clothing. I carried her so as not to upset her any more than necessary," the man locked eyes with Jane for a fleeting second before continuing," though she does not seem the hysterical type."

Severus? Poppy? But how? It's not like he had the opportunity to encourage this woman, this nurse, this sister, or what ever she is, to play the 'Happy Game' with him.

"I'm at Hogwarts- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I really am here. Aren't I? Please don't Obliviate me."

"Severus, I think you need to summon Albus back immediately."

"That was my plan." Snape left without a backward glance.

How the hell had she fallen into a kid's book? Fiction- it's- fictional! not real. Suddenly a crazy idea hit her. What did she know about Scotland? Bagpipes, Braveheart, Loch Ness, and nothing! Maybe the books were based on this school, on these real people- God what a juicy lawsuit! No.

They called her a Muggle- Muggle, meaning non-magical person. Rational. Be rational, Jane. Either she had happened on some role-playing cult in Nassau that really had its shit together, or she was dreaming. She liked the second option far better, for one thing it was a whole lot less spooky. In her heart of hearts though she knew that she was not dreaming. Or at least dreaming had never hurt like this before. But wait! She had hit her head! Maybe she knocked a whole bunch of weird shit loose and gave herself some kind of- what would this be? A delusional episode? How would she know? She'd only taken two semesters of Psych at State before deciding that she preferred Sociology.

The muddle that passed for her rational thinking was not aided by the distraction this woman was providing. Madame Pomfrey, or whoever she was really, if indeed she existed at all, was waving her wand over Jane's body, appearing very deep in concentration. Jane looked at the wand, tried hard and really focused on it.

It was beautiful. It did not look like an expensive prop. It looked like a well-made, well-used tool, something this woman had handled every day for a very, very long time. Then there was this place. It was better than a movie set. Nobody built sets anymore. Did they? Wasn't it all done with blue screen or cgi or something? If someone did build a set for a movie they sure as hell didn't build it out of massive carved stones.

"My name's Jane Elizabeth Watts. I am a Muggle. I don't know how I got here. I was on a cruise ship bound for Nassau. This- world, your Wizarding World, exists only in books in my world, at least as far as I know. There are seven books- one for each of Harry Potter's years at Hogwarts. The seventh book hasn't been published yet. Is this Harry's sixth year?"

Madame Pomfrey had stopped waving her wand and now regarded Jane with kind, intelligent, concerned eyes.

"No dear, this is Harry Potter's fifth year. Most of the students went home this morning on holiday."

"Harry didn't though. Well, he might have gone to the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. I can't remember. I read the fifth one- well it's been a while. I just finished reading the sixth book."

"Oh dear."

tbc-