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| PG - English - Action/Adventure/Romance - Reviews: 6 - Published: 03-29-04 - Updated:
03-31-04 |
id:1795668 |
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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.
A/n: Thanks for all of the reviews so far! Thanks for the heads up on the mistakes. I do not
profess to be an expert on either the X-Files or Harry Potter, so there are bound to be a few
little errors, but I'll try to make everything as "authentic" as possible. For those
of you reading on Portkey, I'm sorry if there are some formatting problems but I'm
completely computer illiterate and don't really know how to fix it! Anyway, the point of that
rambling was...hope you enjoy!
chapter two: Trust...Someone?
They’d been interrogating the suspects for the last hour, and the only information that they’d
managed to get out of them was that the man was Harry Potter and the woman was Hermione Granger,
both from London. Reyes and Scully were currently interviewing Ms. Granger while Doggett and Mulder
tried their luck with Mr. Potter, although it didn’t seem to be getting them very far.
“Your name has come up a number of times in investigating some strange paranormal activity,”
Doggett informed him for what must have been the third or fourth time. Harry remained silent.
“There was a particular case at the London bridge a few years ago. Do you have anything to say
about that, Mr. Potter?”
Silence.
“What were you doing in that abandoned dump?” Doggett inquired, leaning up against the wall, his
arms folded.
Harry glared at him. “Sight-seeing.”
Doggett raised an eyebrow. “In a dump?”
Harry held his gaze steadily. “There’s no law against that, is there?”
“It wasn’t a dump.” Mulder spoke up from the doorway. He met Harry’s gaze steadily. “It was a
castle—I saw it.”
There was a flicker of something in Harry’s green eyes, but his face remained expressionless. “Are
you a Squib?” he inquired after a moment.
Mulder blinked at him. “A what?”
“Never mind.”
Doggett frowned at this but didn’t press the matter. “Mr. Potter, I’m going to give you one last
chance to give us some help. Anything. Otherwise, we’re not going to be very lenient when we learn
the truth—and we will learn the truth.”
Harry stared at him, unblinking.
Mulder stepped forward, scratching the back of his head. “It’s funny because your friend next door
doesn’t seem so hesitant about giving information. In fact, she’s being pretty darn
talkative.”
“Agent Mulder,” Doggett said warningly.
“She said something about witches and wizards,” Mulder continued, never breaking eye contact with
Harry. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Mulder,” Doggett snapped. “Outside. Now.”
They walked out of the room. Mulder turned to face him. “What was that all about? He was just about
to talk.”
“I’ve interrogated plenty of suspects in my time,” Doggett reminded him, “and I can read them
pretty well. That guy is about two seconds away from snapping, and intuition tells me that we don’t
want to be around when that happens. Lying about his friend was stupid and unprofessional. He’s
clearly protective of her, to the point where he might do something desperate if he thought she was
in danger. Think next time, Agent Mulder.”
He turned and headed back toward the room. Mulder looked after him, frowning. “What are you going
to do?”
“I’m letting him go,” Doggett called over his shoulder. “We don’t have anything to hold him on, and
he’s not going to talk. Not now, at any rate.”
Mulder frowned but silently listened on as Doggett told Harry he could leave. At almost the same
moment, the door to the other room opened and Hermione Granger stepped out, looking tired and
visibly worried. At the sight of Harry, her face flooded with relief, and even the comatose Harry
seemed to soften at the sight of his friend. They turned and began to leave the building
together.
“Nice scar,” Mulder called after him. Harry tensed but didn’t turn around. Mulder turned to make
another comment to his contemporaries and was surprised to see that Scully’s face had grown
ashen.
“Scar?” she repeated. Tentatively, she took a step toward the retreating figures of Harry and
Hermione. “Wait! Please?” They continued walking. Desperately, Scully called out, “Your mother’s
name was Lily!”
Harry and Hermione both stopped. Scully clutched at her abdomen, her face troubled. “She had red
hair and green eyes. She died protecting you.”
Slowly, Harry turned around, suspicion and curiosity written clearly in his green eyes. “Who are
you?” he inquired.
***
Hermione sighed, relaxing into Harry’s sofa, listening as he recounted as sparsely as he could the
wizarding world to these strangers. They had learned that the red haired woman—Agent Scully—was
having nightly dreams about Harry’s mother for reasons that she couldn’t quite explain. And despite
her logical judgment, Hermione found herself backing Harry in trusting these people. There was
something about them...almost as though they had been meant to meet, though she had never placed
much stock in fate or destiny.
Agent Doggett was the skeptic in the bunch, she could tell, and he leaned forward with a frown on
his face. “Let me get this straight...people who aren’t magic are called beagles--”
“Muggles,” Hermione corrected him.
“Muggles,” Doggett repeated, “and people who don’t have magical powers but can see magical things
are called Squibs.”
Mulder glanced over at Harry, looking as though he was trying not to be pleased with himself.
“That’s what you thought I was.”
Beside him, Agent Scully rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Agent Reyes was holding her coffee cup, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. “And the place we
saw you at was a magical school, only there are spells so that people can’t see it and become
distracted if they do stumble across it so that they can’t remember it, right?” Harry and Hermione
nodded. “Then why was Agent Mulder able to see it? And why weren’t the rest of us
distracted?”
“We don’t know,” Hermione said, shrugging. “That’s never happened before.”
Scully seemed to be pondering this. “Maybe...maybe we were meant to see you. Maybe we’re all
connected somehow.”
Doggett looked troubled by this but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t think there’s much maybe about it,” Harry spoke up. “You’ve been having dreams about my
mother, about me. That can’t be a coincidence. I guess the real question is why.”
Hermione met his gaze. “Dumbledore.” they said together.
Reyes raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“He’s a very powerful wizard,” Hermione explained as Harry stood up to find Hedwig, “If anyone can
explain this, it’s him.”
Doggett leaned forward. “Well, while you’re contacting Bumblebee or whatever his name is, I’d like
to have a few things explained myself. I’m still not entirely convinced that I believe this magic
mumbo-jumbo.”
Hermione smiled at him. “Believe me, I don’t blame you. If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I would
probably be the worst skeptic among you. But there are some ways we can prove it, if you’d
like.”
“I’d like,” Agent Doggett said, folding his arms.
Hermione pulled out her wand, aiming it toward a book on the coffee table. “Wingardium leviosa.”
she said crisply. The book levitated into the air.
Scully exchanged a glance with Doggett. “That’s very impressive,” she said politely, “but it’s not
anything more than a few carefully placed magnets or wires could do--”
Hermione closed her eyes and apparated herself to the other side of the couch. After waiting a
moment, she apparated to the windowsill, then back to her original seat. She had their full
attention now. Mulder was grinning like a kid in a candy store, Reyes and Scully were staring with
wide eyes, and even Doggett seemed visibly stunned.
“How did you...” he began, “...what did you...?”
Hermione smiled at him sweetly. “I could show you some more, if you’d like.”
Reyes finally managed to close her gaping jaw. “I think we’ll be satisfied with that.”
Mulder looked vaguely disappointed. “For now...”
Harry re-entered the room. “I sent off the letter to Dumbledore,” he informed Hermione. “I’m sure
we’ll hear back from him as soon as we can.”
He sat down next to Hermione, viewing their visitors with an eagerness that she hadn’t seen in him
for quite some time. With a start, she realized what all of this must mean to Harry. These people
could possibly have a connection to his family; he’d been without his parents for so long that he’d
probably lost all hope of ever learning more about them, and now there was a woman here who might
be able to tell him about his mother. It was the sort of thing he’d always wanted.
“So, you’re with a special branch of the government that investigates weird phenomena,” Harry
prompted. “You must have seen some pretty exciting things in your time.”
Mulder shrugged modestly. “Well, you know. We’ve seen our fair share of the weird and
bizarre.”
Hermione couldn’t help but be skeptical; what did a group of Muggles know about weird and bizarre?
“I doubt you’ve seen anything stranger than Harry and me.”
Mulder’s eyes glinted. “A man who can stretch himself thin enough to fit through any crack and
feeds off of liver so that he can hibernate for thirty years.” he challenged.
Harry folded his arms. “A man possessed by an evil wizard growing out of the back of his
head.”
“A monster that lives in sewers and port-a-potties,” Mulder countered.
“A giant snake that travels through sewer pipes and can kill people by looking into their
eyes.”
“A man whose shadow kills people on contact.”
“A massive three-headed dog named Fluffy.”
“Vampires.”
“Werewolves.”
“Aliens.”
“Unicorns.”
“Mutants that feed off peoples’ brains.”
“Woman who can change her hair color, face shape, and body type through pure will.”
As Mulder opened his mouth to reply, Agent Doggett cleared his throat. “I was killed, eaten, spit
back up, and miraculously given my life back,” he spoke up.
Everyone merely stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I was.”
Harry frowned glumly. “ I think that wins.”
“Yeah,” Mulder agreed, just as morose.
Hermione smiled at this and then turned to the others, her inner hostess kicking into gear. “Well,
until we hear from Dumbledore, there isn’t really much we can do. But you’re all free to stay here.
Agent Mulder and Agent Doggett can stay in the basement, and Agent Reyes and Agent Scully can stay
in the guest room.”
Scully and Reyes exchanged a glance. “We don’t want to impose on you.” Reyes said quickly.
“You’re not imposing on me,” Hermione returned. “It’s very possible that you can help Harry learn
more about his past, and you’re welcome here. Besides, this is Harry’s house, not mine.”
The others still looked somewhat reticent, but Hermione sensed that Agent Scully was warming to the
idea of staying in a home. “That sounds wonderful,” she said, “thank you.”
As the agents began to make arrangements to gather their things, Hermione pulled Harry aside.
“Sorry to volunteer your house like that, but I figured you’d want them to stay but that you’d be
too shy to ask.”
“It’s no problem.” Harry said, though he still seemed troubled. He cleared his throat. “So, um, do
you want me to owl you when we find out more from Dumbledore?”
Hermione merely blinked at him. “Harry James Potter, do you honestly think I’m not going to stay
here and wait this out?”
Harry’s face broke into a grin. “You don’t mind, then?”
“Of course I’m going to stay,” Hermione said, torn between the urge to hug and shake him. Harry
could be so very dense sometimes. “Aside from the fact that I apparently have no problem inviting
people to stay in your home—myself included— and aside from the fact that we really don’t know
these people who could be rather dangerous despite seeming lovely, I’m your best friend, Harry. I’m
not going to abandon you when one of the most potentially important things in your life is
happening. I’m sure Dumbledore can find someone to cover for me at the school.”
Impulsively, Harry leaned forward and crushed her in his embrace. “You’re kind of wonderful, you
know that?”
Hermione fought the flush threatening to form on her cheeks. “Well, yes, I was rather aware of the
fact...”
***
That night after dinner, Hermione’s stomach felt delightfully full, and she stood and began
gathering the various plates around her. Agent Doggett rose to his feet, politely helping her with
the dishes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hermione said quickly, “you’re a guest here.”
Doggett merely smiled at her. “It’s no problem.”
A moment later, they were in the kitchen, both carrying rather large stacks of dishes. Doggett set
his load in the sink and began to push up his sleeves.
“ No need for that,” Hermione assured him.
Doggett met her gaze determinedly. “I don’t mind helping, Ms. Granger. It’s the least I can
do--”
Hermione shook her head. “No, I mean...no need.” She pulled out her wand and gave it a little
flick. Instantly, the dishes began to wash themselves.
Doggett frowned at this, though his eyes looked amused. “Well, that sure is the lazy way out.” He
shook his head ruefully. “I think I’m kind of jealous.”
“Don’t be too jealous,” Hermione returned kindly, “spells don’t do all of our chores for us. I’ve
tried everything I can think of to get the toilet to wash itself, but the stubborn little buggar
just won’t do it.”
He laughed, and Hermione took the opportunity to admire him. Agent Doggett really was a handsome
man, particularly when he smiled. There was an odd mixture of the rough and the gentle about him;
she sensed intuitively that he’d suffered a great deal in his life. He reminded her suddenly of
Harry.
“Are you married, Agent Doggett?” Hermione inquired, almost before she had realized what she was
saying. Seeing the surprise in his eyes, she quickly added, “Don’t worry, I’m not making a pass at
you or anything...I’m just curious.”
“Too bad.” Doggett returned, smiling good-naturedly. He glanced down at his left hand. “I, um, I
was married. A few years ago. We divorced.”
“I’m sorry.” Hermione said softly. Trying to cheer him up, she inquired, “Are there any
mini-Doggetts running around?”
Doggett looked away. “I had a son. Luke. He was murdered. Hence the divorce.”
Hermione felt positively atrocious now. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “ I didn’t mean to...”
He shrugged. “You didn’t know.” His face remained troubled for a moment, and then he forced a
smile. “Besides, this gives me the excuse to ask you a few questions.”
Hermione smiled at him, folding her arms. “I should’ve known you were too good to be true. Any man
who offers to help with the dishes always has ulterior motives.”
“Guilty as charged.” Doggett grinned at her and shrugged, then became business-like once more. “I
was wondering if you could tell me about that night on the London Bridge. The one that caused all
the ruckus.”
Hermione sighed. “I was afraid you might ask that.” She glanced toward the kitchen door, her mind
wandering involuntarily back to that night. “Harry would never tell you this, but he’s quite
special in our world. There was an evil and powerful wizard named Voldemort who was determined to
purify the wizarding community—get rid of all the Mudbloods, so to speak.”
“Sort of like Hitler,” Doggett commented.
The ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “Yes, something like that. Anyway, suffice it to say,
Harry’s been fighting against this wizard almost single-handedly since the time he was a baby. He
would win the battles, but Voldemort kept coming back for more. Until that night on the London
Bridge.
“Harry and Voldemort finally had the big showdown there, and Harry was able to defeat him once and
for all. However because of the rather public place, a lot of the news leaked out to the Muggle
world. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to have much of an explanation for what had happened, and we
thought that the Muggles had finally dropped everything...”
“Until we came.” Doggett finished for her. His face looked grim. “We didn’t come here to make
trouble for Harry, or anyone else.”
“I know.” Hermione said, sighing. “But I’m afraid that you’ll end up causing trouble anyway. You
don’t know what it means that Harry and I told you so many details about our world. That sort of
thing isn’t really encouraged.”
Doggett was silent for a moment, taking this all in. “Well, it seems inadequate to say, but I’m
thankful that you trusted us enough to tell us the truth. And I promise you that I’ll do whatever
is in my power to protect you.”
“It’s not me I worry about.” Hermione informed him honestly. “It’s Harry.”
Doggett searched her face. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”
She smiled at this, losing herself in memory. “Yes...yes, I care very much. He’s everything to me.
He’s my world.”
Doggett followed her gaze to the kitchen door, an odd sadness haunting his eyes. “Must be nice,” he
said softly.
***
Scully leaned back in her chair contently. It seemed like ages since she’d last had a home cooked
meal, and Harry definitely hadn’t disappointed. For a young male bachelor, he certainly knew his
way around the kitchen.
Reflecting on this, Scully’s gaze wandered down the table to where Harry and Reyes were busy
discussing the intricacies of Hogwarts. She noted that even when he smiled, there was a darkness in
Harry’s eyes, a sadness. Mystery hung around him, emanating almost tangibly from him.
“Dana.”
Scully glanced over, seeing that Mulder was watching her with concern evident in his features. She
frowned and took his hand. “Mulder, what is it?”
He took in a deep breath, seeming to search for the right words. “Let me just first say that I’m
not trying to sound like some overly possessive boyfriend.”
Scully winced at the word. Boyfriend seemed such an inadequate, trivial phrase for everything
they’d been through together. It couldn’t nearly begin to encompass the love she felt for this man,
the trust and the hope and the passion.
Moving past this, she sensed the meaning behind his words. “You’re wondering why I didn’t tell you
about the dreams.” Mulder nodded. She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I guess I was afraid
you’d look too deep into it.”
Mulder shrugged, looking vaguely irritated. “But this wasn’t some random dream about going to work
without shoes on or riding a pony at the fair—this was a vision into another person’s life. A
vision that you had repeatedly. That seems like the sort of thing we should share.”
Scully raised an eyebrow. “And you always share everything with me, Mulder?” He looked away, and
she knew that she should let it go, but still her mouth continued to move. “What are those secret
phone calls you receive when you think I’m asleep? Who do you run off to meet with when I go to the
bathroom or take a shower?”
Mulder looked as though he was about to snap at her, but instead he grabbed her hands and kissed
her fingertips. “Dana, I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t trust you. I do. But I’m worried about
you. I’m worried about what could happen to you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Scully reminded him. She wanted to remind him of all the times she’d
taken care of herself without him there, but she didn’t.
“I know.” Mulder said softly. He kissed her forehead. “Just be careful, all right?”
Scully didn’t answer.
***
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