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document.write(''); The Point of No Return

author: Elizabeth

summary: Cross-over between the X-Files and Harry Potter. When the X-Files are called upon to investigate strange activity in London, they get more than they bargained for when they run into the world's most famous wizard.

ships: H/Hr, M/S, D/S

rating: PG

disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't own the X-Files. Sadly.

chapter three: Visitors

Harry lay in bed that night, his body utterly exhausted but his mind unable to sleep. His brain was alive with a thousand different thoughts, each pulling him on a roller coaster of emotions. Was it possible that his mother was trying to contact him, to tell him something? And if so, what? And why did she choose to contact a random stranger instead of him directly? It was all very confusing, and he had just about resigned himself to getting absolutely no sleep that night when there was a knock on the door.

Frowning, he sat up and reached for his glasses. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Hermione."

"Come in."

Hermione hurried into the room, clad in a rather embarrassingly cute pair of pajamas with Strawberry Shortcake material. Harry grinned at this. "Nice pajamas, Hermione."

She might have been blushing, but it was hard to tell in the darkness of the room. "I hardly think you're one to talk, Harry," she retorted, "I didn't know Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle boxers were coming back into style."

Harry cleared his throat, suddenly flustered. "Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"

She ventured closer to the bed, her face suddenly serious. "I realized that throughout all of this, I haven't asked you how you're feeling. This must all be very confusing."

Merlin-how did she do that?

"Anyway," Hermione continued, " I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you, Harry. If you want to talk-about anything-just let me know."

She was shivering through the thin material of her pajamas, and it was becoming quite distracting. Harry lifted up the covers, motioning for her to join him. "Come on."

Hermione hesitated, but only for a moment, and then she slid into bed beside him. Gradually, her shivering began to lessen. "You're warm," she informed him.

They stayed like that for a moment, a comfortable silence descending over them. After a few minutes had passed, Hermione met his gaze earnestly. "Tell me what's bothering you, Harry. I want to help."

Harry sighed, trying to put his thoughts into words. "I'm glad to have this connection to my mother," he began, "Really, I am. But I just can't help but wonder..."

"...why she didn't choose you." Hermione finished for him. She was silent for a moment, pondering this. "Maybe that wasn't an option, Harry. Maybe she's communicating with you the only way she knows how."

He'd thought the same thing, but it was nice to have it verified from her lips. Yet despite that assurance, there were still so many questions...

Hermione frowned, studying his features. "There's something more, isn't there?"

"I'm afraid that this is a bad sign." Harry said quietly. "I'm afraid my mother is trying to warn me that something horrible is about to happen."

He thought of what he would do if something happened to Hermione or Ron or any of the people he loved, and he became so overwhelmingly afraid that he had to clench his fists to keep from crying out. He'd lived without love for so long in his life, and he understood more than most how precious it was to have people he cared for and people who cared for him. The thought of losing that again was terrifying.

"That could be true," Hermione returned honestly. "She might be warning you, Harry. But until we hear from Dumbledore, we won't know for sure. So try not to worry about it."

He gave out a short bitter laugh. "I wish I could be brave like you, Hermione."

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Brave, like me? Harry, you're the bravest person I know."

Harry shook his head. "There's too much fear inside of me to ever truly be brave."

"You are brave, Harry," Hermione insisted, "but you're human, too. We all have our fears."

"Even you?"

"Especially me."

They smiled at one another. Hermione sat up suddenly, self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. "I should get back to bed. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight," he said, watching as she left.

He missed her instantly.

***

Scully turned uncomfortably in the bed she was sharing with Reyes. It felt strange to be sleeping without Mulder. Even though she wasn't exactly thrilled with him at the moment, she was accustomed to having him at her side, hearing his deep, resonating snores that he vehemently denied any existence of.

"Are you awake?"

Scully jumped, clutching at her throat. "Geez, Monica. You scared the heck out of me."

"Sorry," Reyes returned good-naturedly, "but at least that means you're awake."

Scully smiled despite herself. "Something bothering you, Agent Reyes?"

Reyes shifted to face her. "I was just thinking-it's been a long time since I've had some good old fashioned girl talk."

"Girl talk?" Scully repeated dubiously.

"Surely you know what girl talk is," Reyes teased her.

Scully shifted indignantly. "Of course I do. I just didn't think that you of all people would be suggesting it."

Reyes grinned at her, her dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "Come on, it'll be fun. We can share our innermost secrets and have a real bonding experience."

"And I suppose we can braid each other's hair and paint each other's nails, too," Scully suggested dryly.

A moment later, they were out of bed and were taking turns braiding each others' hair and painting each others' nails. Monica put a mouthful of the Skittles she'd smuggled along the trip into her mouth and grinned at Scully. "See Dana, isn't this fun?"

"Riveting." Scully returned. Truth be told, she WAS having fun, and it was a little frightening how much she was enjoying herself.

Reyes grinned at her impishly. "So...what do you think about Harry?"

Scully shrugged slightly. " I don't know...he seems nice enough. A little withdrawn, but he seems the type that warms up the more you get to know him--"

Reyes shook her head. "No, I mean, isn't he gorgeous? Those eyes, that lean build...and the accent!" She let out a melodramatic sigh and poured more Skittles into her mouth.

Scully smiled at this. "You like accents, huh?"

"British accents," Reyes corrected her. "There's something so indescribably sexy about a British accent..."

"What about a New York accent?" Scully teased her with a lightness she didn't quite feel.

Reyes frowned at her, taking a moment to process the words. "What, you mean Doggett? No. I don't really think of him that way."

It was Scully's turn to frown. "You two seemed to be getting cozy right before I left. What happened?"

Reyes shrugged. "Oh, you know...I love John, don't get me wrong, but we don't really click that way. We tried it for a while but it sort of crashed and burned. Two different worlds and all that. Besides, I think he was still hung up on someone else."

There was the hint of what could have turned into an uncomfortable silence, but Reyes was suddenly all-business. "Here, turn around so I can redo your braid. It's falling out." Scully obediently complied. Reyes busied herself for a moment, then inquired, "So how is everything going with Mulder?"

Scully was suddenly very glad that Reyes couldn't see her face. "Oh, you know. It's going pretty good. Considering that we're living in a motel room twenty-four seven."

Reyes gave a deep sigh "I envy what you two have."

Scully frowned. "Did you not just hear the part where we never leave the stupid motel room?"

"Yes," Reyes laughed, "and the only way you could get by is if you really loved each other. That says something. You two are living off love."

Scully was silent, pondering this. They were living off love? It sounded so hopelessly cheesy, and yet...

That Reyes could be surprisingly insightful at times.

***

The next morning, everyone gathered in the dining room for breakfast. Scully and Reyes looked unusually tired but rather decorative with wavy hair and newly painted finger and toenails, but otherwise the morning was already proving to be an uneventful one.

As they seated themselves at the table, Harry glanced to Scully uncertainly. "Did you have any new dreams last night, Agent Scully?"

Scully exchanged a brief glance with Reyes. "Truth be told, I didn't get much sleep. My roommate talks in her sleep."

Reyes, who was sipping from her orange juice, choked but refrained from commenting.

They had just begun to pass around the food when the door burst open and in stormed a red-haired, red-faced Ron. He marched immediately over to Harry, his eyes livid. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Eating breakfast," Harry stammered through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Eating breakfast?" Ron thundered. "EATING BREAKFAST?"

Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Yes, Ron, I think we've established that he's eating breakfast."

Ron rounded on her. "Don't even get me started with you, Hermione. What on Earth are the two of you thinking?"

Harry was trying very hard to keep a straight face now. "That you do a surprisingly good impression of your mum."

Ron was not in the mood. "Do the two of you even remember that you were supposed to be at my house last night for dinner?"

Hermione groaned, the memory flooding back to her. "Ron, we're so sorry-we completely forgot..."

But Ron was not about to be cowed so easily. "We sat there waiting all night and there wasn't even so much as an owl letting us know that you were all right. I thought you'd died! I had dozens of the men from the ministry searching all over London for you!"

Harry exchanged a quick frown with Hermione. "Why didn't you just try checking the house?"

The thought had apparently never crossed Ron's mind. He frowned at them. "Well, I...you see...that is not the point! The point is that Luna and I were worried sick and you should have had the decency to at least owl!"

With that said, he took in a breath and seemed to realize for the first time that there were other people in the room. Sheepishly, he looked about at the strangers. "Hi, Ron Weasley." As his gaze fell upon Reyes, a goofy grin crossed his face. "Hello..."

Doggett glanced over at Reyes, amused, but she pointedly ignored him. "Hi. I'm Monica Reyes."

Ron reached out to shake her hand then seemed to think better of it. "I'm married," he said quickly, and glanced expectantly to the still open front door.

A moment later, Luna Lovegood Weasley wandered into the room, staring with apparent fascination at the house although she'd been there dozens of times before. "You could use a few gardenias," she commented before joining Ron. Her gaze immediately took in the new strangers, and she blinked at them with an expressionless face.

"Ron, Luna, these are Agents Mulder, Scully, Doggett, and Reyes." Harry said, and then proceeded to tell them the entire story of what had taken place the day before.

When he was done, Ron stared at him. "That's...that's bloody insane, that's what it is." He took a moment longer to process this, then grabbed a chair for himself and his wife. "Well, what are we eating then?"

An hour later, everyone was sitting about the living room, exchanging tales of their amazing feats. Harry, Hermione, and Ron reminisced about the good old days at Hogwarts, and Mulder told about the early days at the X-Files with Scully occasionally breaking in to correct him. Doggett, Luna, and Reyes stayed mostly quiet, although Reyes would occasionally throw in one of her own stories as Doggett listened on in quiet but open skepticism.

When most of the really interesting stories had been told, the conversation began to branch off into groups. Perhaps feeling a bit embarrassed about his earlier interest, Ron turned to Reyes and pulled out his wallet. "I have a son-Arthur. He'll be two in a few months."

Smiling, Reyes took the wallet and stared at the picture. Arthur was an incredibly cute little boy with his red hair and bright blue eyes, but what grabbed her attention was the fact that the picture was...well, moving.

"Did someone spike the orange juice?" Reyes inquired, frowning at the wallet.

Beside her, Doggett leaned over to look at the picture. He blinked in surprise. "It's moving."

"He's moving," Luna corrected absently.

Ron looked at them skeptically. "Right. Forgot. Muggles have those boring non-moving pictures."

Reyes handed the wallet back to him. "I never really thought they were boring until now..."

"What's next?" Doggett quipped. "Portraits that can talk?"

Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry and Ron. "Well, actually--"

She was saved the trouble of explaining that little piece of information when there came a knock at the door. Glancing around, Harry moved to the door and pulled it open.

Dumbledore.

"Hello, Harry." he said kindly. "Mind if I come in?"

Wordlessly, Harry let him into the house, and suddenly there was no further contest for attention in the room. It was obvious that Dumbledore was more of what the Muggles had expected when they thought of wizards; with his flowing robes, long white beard, and pointed hat, it wasn't difficult to see why.

"Greetings everyone." Dumbledore said, bowing ever so slightly. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard many great things about you."

Scully looked taken aback. "About us?"

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Oh, yes. I've had an interest in the X-Files from the very beginning. I tried my best to keep up with your adventures, but I usually only checked in on you every Sunday or so."

"How very flattering," Mulder spoke up, "and also kind of stalkerish..."

Dumbledore ignored the last statement. "Now, I suppose you're all wondering if I have any insight into the matter of these dreams." He looked at Harry and Scully pointedly. "I'm afraid that I know very little, and that what I do know is not at my liberty to discuss."

Doggett folded his arms. "That's helpful."

"I am sorry," Dumbledore said, his eyes kind, "but this is the way it must be. However, I can assure you that Mr. Potter and Ms. Scully do share a very special connection, and that it is best to investigate these dreams."

Hermione looked relieved. "So you aren't upset that we told them about the wizarding world?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore assured her. "Besides, we could always displace their memories if the need arose."

Scully exchanged a glance with Mulder. "How very comforting..."

Dumbledore folded his hands together. "I'm afraid I must be off. Hogwarts business to attend to, and all. Good luck with your journey, and remember--" He looked at Scully pointedly, "-trust your intuition."

With that, he was gone. There was silence in the room as everyone pondered this, and then Harry met Scully's gaze. "Well," he said determinedly, "I suppose we should begin then..."

***

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