Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Order of Things

2

Existence

"Dad", I complained, elongating the vowel sound as I folded my arms on the desktop and buried my head in them. It was Saturday. One of the few days Dad had off and he was choosing to spend it by sitting in a muggle library and asking me a million questions about computers. "You can't master computers in one day".

"Fascinating", Dad said as he henpecked at the keyboard to type his question into a search engine. It was one Jessie wasn't familiar with. With reverence, Dad used the mouse to click on the search button instead of hitting enter. Now, this is the nineties, so running a search or loading a page took longer than how Jessie remembered. Giving Dad the chance to ask, "Why do they call it a mouse?"

Slowly, I turned my head so I could see Dad, who was looking at me expectantly. Why is it called a mouse? It was definitely a question Jessie never asked herself. "I don't know". I admitted as Dad's search finished loading. "Why don't you type that question instead of..." I trailed off so I could read what was on the monitor. What I read made the muggle in me cringe. "How to float''. Merlin, kill me. "Dad, muggles float the same way we do. The only difference between us is magic. Everything else is exactly the same". Suddenly I had a newfound appreciation for my past decision to not take muggle studies.

"Ah," Dad said as he looked at me and held up one finger to signal that he had a point that would refute me. "If that were true, why did they invent life vests?"

My nose wrinkled. "Can we go home now?" But Dad didn't hear me. Or maybe he chose not to. He had already turned back to the monitor; reading avidly about the science behind buoyancy and online offers for swimming lessons. Sadly, this was how a good portion of my summer break was spent. As Mum had promised when she learned that I remembered a past muggle life, she kept Dad from hounding me with questions while at school. And then all that… nonsense that happened with Quirrell delayed Dad's curiosity. But when summer started, there was no avoiding it. Every free moment Dad had was used to integrate me about the functions of everyday muggle life.

Although it wasn't just Dad. The whole family knew about Jessie, though Fred and George were the only ones who knew about Jessie knowing about Harry Potter as a franchise. At first, it felt uncomfortable. Everyone except Mum and my fellow triplets kept asking questions about Jessie and America. Ginny would ask anything that came to mind. Usually about America or muggle schools. Ron was morbidly curious about how I died and what it was like to die. Percy hounded me for knowledge about how to write resumes and how to dress to make good impressions at job interviews since I, as Jessie, had already gone through that once before.

It was like they wanted me to be someone I wasn't. Or someone I wasn't anymore. It took me practically throwing a tantrum at the dinner table one muggy July evening to get them to look at me like they used to. "I'm Holly Weasley!" I yelled as I sprung up from my seat at the table, knocking Fred's glass of milk over in the process. "Since you've all seemed to forget. Holly has never been to America!" I had continued on a rampage; gesturing madly with my arms or pounding my fists on the tabletop with each statement. I had done whatever felt right in the moment. "Holly has never been to a muggle school! Holly has never had a full-time job with benefits and a retirement plan! In fact, Jessie never had that either. Holly does not want to talk about what it's like to be stabbed to death! And Holly would very much like her family to remember that Jessie is Holly's past, so Holly can stop talking in the third person!"

It was like my rant had triggered a universal pause button or something. Everyone was staring at me as if I had just accosted the Minister of Magic himself while announcing that I was going to take on a career as a circus performer. Even calm and collected Percy was left dazed by me snapping. No one even moved as they all stared at me with either mouthfuls of food or their forks halfway raised to their mouths. Up until that point, I had answered all of their questions. Except for Ron's inquiries because it was just too painful.

For a few seconds that felt like minutes the only things moving in the Weasley kitchen were the hands of the grandfather clock that had all of our faces on them and the spilled milk that was slowly dripping off of the edge of the table and onto Fred's lap. It took Fred and George bursting out in laughter and applause to unpause everyone. "Bravo, Bravo" Fred had said as he clapped before he started to mop up the milk on his person with his napkin.

"An excellent, riveting performance, Holls", George had declared as if he was a theater critic for the Daily Prophet. "I was very moved".

Color ignited in the faces of my other family members as they sheepishly looked away from me. Percy couched into a closed fist as he rubbed the back of his ears. Ron was frowning into his plate of pork chops and green beans while Ginny had turned teary-eyed. As my fellow triplets continued to bust a gut, I shrink back down into my chair. "I'm sorry," I said in a humbled indoor voice, staring at my still clenched hands.

I waited for Dad to ask me to remember my manners or for Mum to scold me before demanding that I clean up the spilled milk that Fred was spreading around more than mopping up. Instead Mum simply said, "Right that's the end of that". Somewhat surprised, I looked up in time to see Mum rising. She pulled out her wand from her apron pocket and with an efficient swish, the milk vanished from the table and the floor. "She's our same Holly she's always been. And I don't want to hear anyone making her feel otherwise". With the mess cleaned up, Mum sat back down and looked squarely at Dad.

"Here, Here!" Fred and George cheered, raising their glasses into the air. Although, Fred's glass was empty.

After that, anything personally involving Jessie was strictly off-limits. No more inquiries about past death experiences. No more questions about if I was in love in my last life, or if I preferred being Holly instead of Jessie. They couldn't even ask if my favorite color had been Jessie's favorite color. Of course, my favorite color is the same. I am the same person, after all. Just with different experiences. But there was one thing that they could ask me about. The function and use of muggle objects since that was fact and not personal. Dad was thrilled. Once Dad got his fill of muggle buoyancy, he pushed the keyboard and mouse in my direction. "Do you want to look at anything?" He asked carefully. "It's been a little more than fourteen years since you've last got to use one of these".

I picked my head up and sat up straighter. He's right. "Sure", I said slowly. I had missed technology in my first couple of years of life as Holly. It was almost like I was going through withdrawal. I didn't have a social media presence to monitor. No pictures to upload. I had no way to like other people's posts. In fact, social media wasn't even a thing in 1978. I doubt it was even a thing now in the nineties. It would be in about another nine years or so. If this world is similar to Jessie's. Although clumsy, my untrained index fingers reflexively rest over the J and F keys. It's been a lifetime since I last typed. The position I was holding my hands in felt foreign, but familiar. Sort of like when a baseball player breaks his arm and they have to retrain those muscles the next time he can throw a ball or pick up a bat. For a moment I stare at the computer screen; my mind drawing a blank.

"I don't know what I want to do", I said. Dad stayed quiet, letting me work it out for myself. I stopped longing for technology by the time Holly turned three. At that age, I was old enough to engage in rough and tumble play with all my siblings and could manage some conversation. It became easier to leave everything I had known behind me as I learned the facets of my new life. Though to this day, I still miss the convenience of spell-check. Spell-check would be a godsend for History of Magic essays. Thinking about school, my hands move by themselves; flying over the keyboard with only one or two typos. I typed 'The University of Nebraska' and pressed enter.

"Aw," said Dad as he studied my hands and started to mimic their position and movement. "Yes, that is much more efficient".

Ignoring him, I watched the search engine load; clicking on the first link when it finished. The homepage that comes up contains an image that has me sitting back in my chair. There it was. That was my school. The image was of the football stadium. It wasn't exactly the same as I remembered it. There was less seating. It would probably be expanded sometime in the future. But still. To use Holly's eyes to see something that Jessie's eyes had also seen was unnerving. I felt like I was in two places at once. Like I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. "That's where I went to school". I told Dad. Using the mouse, I found the tab labeled academics. A few more clicks and a couple of different web pages later, I pulled up the political science major page. "That's what I studied," I said.

"You were a politician?" Dad asked, almost in disbelief. Technically, Mum had outlawed questions about Jessie. But since I was the one who brought it up, it can't be helped. As I stared transfixed at pieces of my past I didn't care.

I scoffed. "Merlin, no. Political science analyzes what goes on in politics. Like politicians' behavior and actions. It compares it to the economy". As I continued to explain Jessie's field of study, I used the mouse to click on the link that would take me to the faculty page. In this world, I was curious about who would be in my professors' places. "We also looked at law, sociology, and psychology". I'm not sure if Dad knew what psychology was, but he let me talk without interrupting. "Basically, we applied social sciences to anything political or governmental". I had more I wanted to say. I could tell Dad about the different philosophers I studied and concepts like the transfer of power. But when the faculty page loaded, I forgot everything I wanted to say.

"Holly?" Dad asked after I had been silent a little too long. "What's the matter? You're as white as a ghost". A fitting metaphor, because I think I have just seen a ghost. On the faculty page, one picture stands out to me more than the others. Professor R. Brown. He's younger than I remember. With no facial hair and black hair instead of grey. I was looking at a picture of Jessie's academic advisor. But how? How was he alive? He shouldn't exist. "Holly?" Dad tried again.

The strain I hear in his voice has me responding. "I know him". I said. How is this possible? "He was one of my- one of Jessie's professors".

Dad shifted in his chair before answering cautiously. "That must feel strange".

"Yeah," I agreed, still studying the contours of Professor Brown's young face. He didn't have half the wrinkles as Jessie remembered, but there was no misplacing those blue eyes and lopsided smile. This shouldn't be possible. If Professor Brown was alive… alive in the same world as the wizarding world, then was I still alive? I mean, was Jessie alive? It was 1992 after all. Jessie died in 2019. In August of 1992, I wouldn't have been- Jessie wouldn't have been born yet….She was born in 1993. So, was I- was Jessie going to be born next year? Did that mean that my mom- Jessie's mom was alive? Jessie's brother? Just How? Why? I don't know what to think. The phrase Dad had used, 'white as a ghost', felt appropriate. Perhaps Professor Brown wasn't the ghost. Maybe I was.

Dad coughed and touched my shoulder. Anything to get me to look away from the computer. "Perhaps we should head home for the day. I think Mum is baking a pie for dessert tonight. I know you like to help her in the kitchen".

"Yeah", I mumble again. That did sound nice. Like a nice distraction.

I spent the rest of the day in some sort of daze. Dinner, consisting of a salad made from homegrown vegetables and Mum's famous rosemary chicken, was delicious. But I hardly ate any of it. Including the berry pie that we had for dessert.

The dinner conversation flew over my head. I didn't laugh when George convinced Ginny that all first-years must pass a written exam before they can use the school brooms. I didn't retort when Ron made a comment about Adrian being my boyfriend after Mum mentioned I had gotten another letter from him. And at the first opportunity, I excused myself from the table by saying that I had summer homework I wanted to get done.

Alone in my and Ginny's bedroom, I made the motions of taking out my arithmancy textbook and the parchment and quill I would need to write the assignment. I got as far as opening the book to the correct page before I stopped and just stared at the wall that my desk is pushed against. Was that actually Professor Brown? Am I just making this all up? What if none of this exists? What if I don't exist and I made everything up?

I'm not sure how much time I wasted staring at that wall as I thought thoughts that had no apparent answers. But I was broken out of it when Mum entered the room. "Holly", she called as she poked her head inside. Though she didn't wait for permission before fully entering. "You were quiet at dinner", she said as she sat down on Ginny's bed. While she waited for me to respond, Mum smoothed out the creases of Ginny's pink quilt with her hands.

"Yes", I agreed, looking down at the arithmancy book I hadn't read a single word out of. "I… have a lot on my mind".

"I think I know what about," Mum said. Her voice held so much confidence that it had me snapping my head up to look at her. There's no way. I'll admit that internal crises are normal for teenagers. For anyone really. But there's no way Mum could possibly know that I was questioning whether Holly Weasley was actually a real person or not. Mum gave me a wizen warm smile. The type of smiles mothers gave when they're trying to coax their children into uncomfortable conversations. She gave me the same smile when she explained puberty to me when I was eleven. I had almost told her right then and there that I remembered a past life so I didn't have to hear about my developing body. "That's the third letter you've gotten from Adrian this week". Mum said, nodding her head in the direction of the waxed sealed letter sitting on the corner of my desk. I hadn't opened it yet. Adrian and I had been exchanging letters all summer as well as visiting each other in person. It was nice. Having a friend that also remembered a past life.

"It's probably just about arithmancy", I lied as I felt my face heat up a bit. I knew what the letter was about. More and more often we talked less about school and more about miscellaneous things neither one of us cared that much about. The important thing is that we were talking. In my last letter I had sent him a cut out from a witch weekly magazine containing a quiz titled 'What do wizards think about you?'. I thought Adrian would find some amusement in it. The letter sitting on my desk was probably his scathing analysis.

Mum's expression was overly knowing, causing me to look away. "Holly", she started again. "You're getting older". Was I though? I couldn't help but think. I might be getting younger. After all, Jessie hasn't even been born yet. "And you may start to notice that things are changing".

I don't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but that line derailed all thoughts involving my existence. That was the same line she started with when I was eleven before she started to inform me about periods. "I think you have the wrong daughter". I said, looking back at Mum. I was almost pleading. "We already had this conversation when I was eleven. It's Ginny's turn now".

Mum's smile remained patient, calm, and deceptively inviting. "Such as", Mum went on to say, acting like I hadn't said anything. "Paying more attention to boys. Maybe one in particular".

"Oh, Merlin" I groaned as my body temperature spiked. I think I might actually prefer to go back to pondering my existence.

"And I think this boy may be paying more attention to you as well", Mum said, taking great care to not use Adrian's name. Why? Did she think if she called me out about our childish flirting I would deny everything? "Now, we've already talked about relations between a male and a female-"

"Yes, we did," I said quickly to end this train of thought.

But Mum kept going. "And I told you the safest thing was to wait until you are married to someone you really love". Mum's eyes become more pointed at that last part. What exactly did she think Adrian and I are up to? "But you're older now, so I want to talk to you about giving consent, and not being pressured into anything you don't want to do". Merlin, kill me. "Fourteen is still too young to be… sexually intimate with a significant other. But as you get older you might decide you don't want to wait until marriage. And your young man might not want to wait either. Which is fine long as you make an informed choice. So, I think it's time we talked about contraceptives".

And that's when I lost it. "Ok, Mum" I interrupted, waving my hands a little to stop her. And then I said the stupidest thing I could have said in this situation. "I'm not a virgin!" Immediately after, I was kicking myself. Idiot! That's not something any fourteen-year-old should tell their mother. I'll be lucky if she lets me out of the house after this.

Mum lost her patient, warm smile. First, she seemed to go blank before she started to heat up. "What?" Mum sputtered. "How? Holly Weasley!" Mum went from disbelief to scolding in less than a second.

"I mean…" I said, trying to placate.

"Is this what you were up to all those times you went over to his house? Because there definitely wasn't any… any fornicating in this house". I want to point out that that's not true. That there were eight of us Weasley children. So, there must have been quite a bit of fornicating in this house. Luckily, I have the sense to not say that.

"I just meant", I tried again. "That I didn't die a virgin. Jessie wasn't a virgin." I gestured a hand over my whole body. "I, as in Holly, haven't done anything. I'm not ready". I promised, speaking very quickly. "I just know all of this already because of …. who I used to be." Who I will be? The jury is still out on that one.

As Mum deflated out of her mixture of incredulity, concern, and… disapproval, I was able to take a deep breath. I really need to start thinking before I speak. "Your past life" Mum muttered to herself. She shook her head once but followed it up with a nod. I have no idea what that means. "Alright," Mum said after a moment as if steeling herself. Though she did eye me rather suspiciously. "In that case, no boys other than your brothers are allowed in your bedroom. In fact, I don't want you behind closed doors with any boy. If you want to date, that's fine. But you are to tell someone who you are going with and where you are going and when you will be back". Mum laid out the rules very clearly. I nodded. Those were rules I could live with. It's not like I could do anything without Fred and George knowing anyway. Then, as if assuring herself, Mum said. "Adrian is from a traditional family. He seems like a nice boy. I don't think he will do anything without our blessing".

That caught my interest. That sounded a lot like the traditional pureblood courting Adrian had gone on and on about last school year... "Are you talking about pureblood traditions?" I asked. Mum nodded. "Oh yeah, Adrian's totally traditional. We got into a fight about it last year". I left out the part where said fight led me to locking Fred, George, and Adrian in the trophy room after curfew... "Did you know that if wizards verbally announce their interest in a witch that witch becomes off-limits?" Because really if Mum knew I wanted to know why I didn't.

Mum takes her time to study my face. She didn't give me a yes or no answer. Instead, she asked, "Did that happen?"

"Yes," I said with a nod. "That was a part of the fight I mentioned."

Mum sighed and shook her head in a fashion that had her hair swishing in front of her eyes. "We didn't prepare you enough for this. I thought I had more time", she said softly to herself, as she stood up. "I'll have to tell your Father". Mum moved towards the door, pausing as her hand touched the doorknob. "But this conversation isn't over, young lady. We still need to talk about contraceptives. I suspect that it will be different from what muggles use". And then Mum left the room.

Bloody hell.