The Point of No Return

lissag7

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 30/03/2004
Last Updated: 08/04/2004
Status: in_progress

X-Files and Harry Potter crossover. When the X-Files are called in to investigate paranormal activity in London, they come face to face with the world's most famous wizard.

Chapters

1. In Dreams She Comes

2. Trust...Someone?

3. Visitors

4. Connections

1. In Dreams She Comes

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Books » Harry Potter » The Point of No Return

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Author: Elizabeth5

PG - English - Action/Adventure/Romance - Published: 03-29-04 - Updated: 03-29-04

id:1795668

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.

author's note: So, I'm aware that this is pretty bizarre, but I thought I'd give it a shot anyway! For the sake of this fic, we're going to say that Harry, Hermione, and all the X-Files crew are about the same age.

chapter one: In Dreams She Comes

Fear. Pain. A red-haired woman. Green eyes. Running. A terrified scream: “Harry!” A flash of green. A baby. Another pair of green eyes. Raven-black hair. A scar.

With a start, Dana Scully was awake. She took in a deep breath, steadying her pounding heart, her eyes darting about the room. Her first instinct was to rise to find her son William; it took a moment longer to remember that William was no longer there.

Instead, her eyes settled on her other boy. Fox Mulder. He was slumbering peacefully, his face endearingly childlike under the moonlight. She had the sudden urge to wake him and tell him about the dream, but she quickly pushed it aside. Knowing Mulder, he’d come up with some far-fetched explanation and drag her around the world searching for the truth. He’d always been a little trigger happy, but lately he was even more restless than usual. Now that they were no longer part of the X-Files, Mulder seemed to have lost himself. He was antsy, she knew, and it was only a matter of time before he enlisted them on some ill-fated mission. It didn’t really matter what the purpose of the expedition was; they all ended the same.

The phone rang, jarring Scully from her thoughts. Frowning, she wondered who could be calling at such a time. It wasn’t the lateness of the hour that bothered her, but rather the fact that no one knew where they were. Since they’d gone on the run, Scully had only two contacts: Mulder, and A.D. Skinner. And Skinner would only call if there was an emergency...

With foreboding flooding her veins, Scully reached over in answered the phone. “Hello?”

There was a pause. “Agent Scully?”

Startled, she recognized the voice of her former partner John Doggett. “Agent Doggett? How did you get this number?”

“Skinner gave it to me. Listen, Scully, I need to ask you a favor...”

A few minutes later, Scully hung up the phone and rolled over to face Mulder, who was still slumbering peacefully. Typical male. Gently, she shook his shoulder. He tensed, then sprung to life. “Dana, what is it? What happened?”

“John Doggett just called.” Scully informed him. “He wants our help...”

***

Scully spent the next morning cleaning up the hotel room. She was embarrassed to have Doggett and Reyes see the way that she and Mulder lived—motel room to motel room, no roots, no home—but at least the place could be clean when they came. Mulder had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock on the door.

She felt inexplicably nervous. It was just Doggett and Reyes; she trusted them completely, and they had validated that trust time and time again. Still, she sought out a reassuring smile from Mulder before she opened the door.

There was Monica Reyes, tall and darkly beautiful, dressed in a low-cut brown shirt and black dress pants. Substantially more conservative was John Doggett in his customary suit, his face an odd mixture of hardened veteran and innocent boy.

Scully hesitated, not certain how to proceed. Reyes broke the awkwardness by coming forward and hugging her. “It’s so good to see you. You look great.”

“You, too.” Scully smiled at her as she pulled away, then turned to Doggett. They hugged tentatively. “Long time no see.”

“How have you been, Agent Scully?”

She smiled. Only Doggett would insist upon addressing her as Agent Scully though she hadn’t been with the FBI for some time now. “I can’t complain.”

“Good.”

Doggett turned to Mulder. There was an awkward moment as they shook hands, muttering a few pleasantries; the men had worked together on occasion, but there still wasn’t complete trust between them.

Once the niceties were out of the way and everyone was seated, Scully glanced back and forth between Reyes and Doggett. “You said last night that you needed help on a case,” she reminded them.

Reyes glanced over at her partner. “Yes, actually. The thing is, it’s rather unusual, even for an X-file.”

Scully frowned. “Unusual how?”

“Over the last several years, there have been unexplainable phenomena in London, centering around a certain area.” Doggett explained. “There was one instance of a woman ballooning to massive proportions and floating in the air. There was also a report of a flying car at a train station. Those are only a handful of the strange occurrences.”

Mulder’s face hadn’t changed, but Scully could detect his excitement. “Why does this concern us?”

“Like we said,” Reyes continued, “these strange activities have been happening for years. A few years ago it all sort of culminated during what can only be described as a battle that occurred on London bridge. There were several reports of strange phenomena—unexplainable flashes of light, indecipherable incantations. By all accounts it appeared to be...” She glanced over at Doggett. “Well, wizardry.”

Doggett frowned at this. “We still haven’t determined the cause behind it.”

Scully folded her arms. “But why does this concern the X-Files? Shouldn’t the British government be handling the situation?”

“They’ve tried,” Reyes informed her. “They’ve spent the last several years attempting to explain these occurrences, but they can’t.”

Scully smiled wryly. “So they called on the X-Files for backup.”

“Exactly.”

Mulder sighed and leaned back in his chair. “This is all very interesting, but I don’t really see how it concerns Scully and me. We aren’t the X-Files anymore, remember?”

There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. Scully glanced at him and frowned; this was just the sort of thing that Mulder had been waiting for. So why was he suddenly so reticent?

Doggett shook his head. “This sort of thing is out of my league. I don’t really have what most people would call an open mind.”

Reyes exchanged a smile with Scully.

Not noticing this—or perhaps just ignoring it—Doggett continued, “And while Reyes is much more liberal in her thinking, she doesn’t really have much experience in witchcraft. There were really only two agents on file in the FBI who had at least some background in this sort of thing.” He looked at them pointedly.

Mulder grinned despite himself. “Well, say it’s true. Say Scully and I could help you. We sort of have this tiny little problem of having to pretend we’re dead. Going on reconnaissance with the FBI won’t exactly keep us low-profile.”

Reyes smiled as though she had been expecting this. “We’ve already covered that with A.D. Skinner. He’s arranged for fake identifications to be made, and you two will be traveling separately so that no one can link you to us.”

Scully couldn’t help but be impressed. “I’m surprised you don’t have our bags packed and ready for us.”

Reyes gave a light shrug. “Give us a few a minutes...”

Scully folded her arms, suspicious. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s some ulterior motive behind this?”

Doggett folded his arms. “Skinner did mention something to the effect of it being our duty to get you out of this dingy motel room for a while.”

Scully smiled. Good ol’ Skinner. It would be so nice to get out of hiding for a while, to travel and be part of an investigation again. She loved Mulder and it was great to be with him, but it would be so nice to have other human beings to talk to...

At the thought, she glanced over at Mulder, realizing that he was watching her. She met his gaze and they communicated silently with one another, as they had been doing for the past several years. He was hesitant, she knew, but he could see how much she wanted this. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Reyes gave a half-smile. “Now that’s enthusiasm.”

Scully’s mind was reeling, and suddenly she was all business. They had purpose again. They had a case. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she missed it. “All right. What else can you tell us? Do we have any leads, any names?”

“Only one,” Doggett said, pulling a file folder from his brief case and flipping it open. “Through all the investigations, the British government was only able to come up with one name connected to all of these bizarre events: Harry Potter.”

***

In London...

Harry Potter waited as his long-time best friend Hermione Granger finished the last of her papers. He’d been sitting in her classroom good-naturedly for the last half hour, but his patience was beginning to wane. Finally, it was too much, and he grabbed her about the waist, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, Professor Granger. It’s time to take a break...”

“Just one more paper, Harry” Hermione protested as he dragged her toward the door, “I’m almost finished.”

“You’ve been saying that for the last thirty minutes,” Harry reminded her. “And we need to leave now before Ron and Luna think we’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Hermione sighed, relenting. “You’re right, you’re right--”

“As always.”

She flashed him an amused look and continued, “I can finish grading papers when I get back.”

“Grading papers on a Saturday evening, Hermione? My, you do live a varied and exciting social life.”

Hermione smiled at him reproachfully. “It’s no worse than your social life, Harry. Don’t think I don’t know that you spend your weekends on the Quidditch pitch. We’re both horrible workaholics.”

Harry flushed at this. How did she manage to keep tabs on him like that? Reluctantly, he sighed, conceding. “When did we become so pathetic, Hermione? Remember when we used to be saving the world every other weekend?”

“We still make a difference,” Hermione protested, grinning at him impishly. “I’m teaching the world and you’re...entertaining it.”

Harry laughed but quickly felt the smile fading from his face. Was that what it had come to? Was he wasting his time playing Quidditch when there were so many other important things he could be doing? After finally defeating Voldemort all those years ago, he’d been offered countless jobs—at the Ministry, the International Wizarding Society, even Hogwarts. Did Hermione look down on him for not taking any of those more respectable routes...?

“Hey.” Her voice brought him back to reality, just as it always had. “I didn’t mean anything by that, Harry. You’ve been saving the world since you were born. You’ve paid your dues. It’s about time that you had a little fun.”

Harry sighed, then nodded. “Thanks, Hermione.”

As they continued down the corner, she took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, and suddenly there was a whole new world of confusion. *It’s natural to enjoy holding your best friend’s hand*, he told himself. *There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing weird...*

Suddenly, the lights in the entire building seemed to dim, and there was a low hum resonating through the corridors. Harry turned to Hermione, frowning. “What’s going on?”

Hermione released his hand, hurrying to the window. “I don’t believe it,” she breathed.

Harry was growing more and more concerned. “What? What is it?”

Hermione turned to him, her delicate features narrowed into a frown. “There are Muggles on the grounds.”

***

Scully was trying not to feel too touristy, but she’d never been to London before and she was fascinated. The accents, the sights, the cars. She felt positively giddy, and that hadn’t happened—precluding drug or supernatural inducement—since college. Still, she somehow managed to keep a composed face, sensing intuitively that her fellow agents might become rather unnerved at the sight of a carefree and rambunctious Scully.

They’d stopped only briefly at a hotel to drop their things off—Scully and Mulder were none too eager to return to a hotel room any time soon—and spent the majority of the morning speaking to British government officials. While she was attempting desperately to cover her awe at their culture, Mulder seemed to have no such repercussions.

“Hey,” Mulder said, interrupting one of the detectives from Scotland Yard, “can you do me a favor? Say something British, like shagging or brawly or bloody.”

The detective merely blinked at him.

Later, as they headed to a home in London to do some investigating, Scully smiled at Mulder and reached out to finger the British flag baseball cap that he’d purchased. “You are aware that you’re acting like an annoying American tourist,” she pointed out.

He grinned at her and shrugged. “Your point being...?”

Scully grinned in return and turned her gaze toward the front of the car. She caught a brief flash of Doggett watching her in the rearview mirror, but his gaze was immediately redirected to the road, and she wondered a moment later if she’d only imagined it.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Dursley home. Reyes stepped out of the car, glancing down at the case files in her hand. “Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley,” she read aloud, eyebrow raised. “Very...interesting names.”

“Dudley?” Mulder echoed.

Doggett shook his head. “Now that’s just cruel...”

They reached the front door and rang the bell. A moment later, a bone-thin, horse faced woman was standing at the door, eying them nervously. “Can I help you?”

Reyes stepped forward, giving a polite smile. “Mrs. Petunia Dursley?” The woman nodded. “We’re with the American Federal Bureau of Investigation. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions.”

Petunia tugged nervously at the collar of her dress. “We aren’t in trouble, are we? Dudley never stole from those children—those were all lies.”

Mulder looked as though he could barely suppress his laughter. “We’re actually here in regards to a man named Harry Potter. Ring a bell?”

“Never heard the name before in my life,” Petunia said quickly, and suddenly she looked extremely nervous. “Besides, he hasn’t lived here for years.”

Scully raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you’d never heard of him.”

Doggett cleared his throat. “Ma’am, you aren’t in any sort of trouble, and neither is Mr. Potter. We just want to speak with him to ask a few questions concerning some paranormal activity.”

A sudden thought seemed to strike Petunia. “You said you’re with the government? So if Harry or anyone he knew was doing anything illegal or out of the ordinary, you’d put a stop to it?”

Reyes exchanged a glance with her partner. “Mrs. Dursley, I know it isn’t easy to turn in a loved one, but I assure you that--”

“Oh, yes,” Petunia said quickly, “ it’s terribly hard, but I’m sure it’s for his own good.” She grabbed a file folder from Reyes’s hand and began to scribble down some directions. “You might not be able to see him, but he’s there. And if he isn’t, then there’s plenty of his kind around...”

Back in the car, Scully frowned as she recounted the conversation with Mrs. Dursley in her mind. “That was...rather unusual.” she said finally. “She sounded as though she couldn’t wait for us to apprehend her nephew.”

Doggett shrugged. “Maybe she’s just a law-abiding citizen.”

“I don’t think so.” Reyes chimed in. She glanced back at Scully. “Do you think it might be a setup?”

Scully sighed. “I don’t know. But we should definitely keep our eyes open...”

Doggett pulled to a stop in front of an abandoned wasteland of some sort. There was a huge barbed-wire fence and various signs warning of biohazards. He frowned and double-checked the directions. “According to Mrs. Dursley, this is the place.”

Scully sighed. “Looks like we have been set up.”

She glanced over at Mulder and saw with some surprise that he was staring out of the window in rapture, as though he had never seen anything so magnificent in his life. “You guys are kidding me, right?” he sputtered finally. “Look at that place!”

Scully glanced back at the dump, then back at Mulder. “It’s a dump, Mulder.”

But Mulder was climbing out of the car, his eyes filled with wonder. He shaded his eyes from the sun, wandering closer. “I’ve never seen anything like it...”

The rest followed after him. Doggett looked over at Mulder dubiously. “You’ve never seen a dump before?”

“That’s not a dump!” Mulder insisted. “It’s a castle, and there’s this huge tree and a lake...and what looks like some elaborate stadium...”

Doggett folded his arms, exchanging a glance with Scully before looking back to Mulder. “What’s the game, Agent Mulder? There’s obviously nothing there.”

He looked over to Reyes to confirm this, but she had an odd expression on her face and was squinting at the area in front of her. “I’m getting a strange feeling from this place,” she said. “Almost like...electricity? Not quite, but something like that...something almost tangible...”

Doggett turned his gaze to Scully. “All I see is a dump.”

Scully glanced back, her eyes widening. “Agent Doggett.” She motioned ahead.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, two figures had appeared in the midst of the dump and were watching them with obvious reserve on their faces. One was a pretty woman with thick, unruly brown hair, and the other was a tall man with dark hair and glasses.

***

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2. Trust...Someone?

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Books » Harry Potter » The Point of No Return

text size: (+) : (-)

Author: Elizabeth5

1. In Dreams She Comes

2. TrustSomeone?

PG - English - Action/Adventure/Romance - Reviews: 6 - Published: 03-29-04 - Updated: 03-31-04

id:1795668

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.

***

I thrive on reviews--don't make me starve!

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1. In Dreams She Comes

2. TrustSomeone?

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Books » Harry Potter » The Point of No Return

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Author: Elizabeth5

1. In Dreams She Comes

2. TrustSomeone?

3. Visitors

PG - English - Action/Adventure/Romance - Reviews: 13 - Published: 03-29-04 - Updated: 04-03-04

id:1795668

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...”

***

I thrive on reviews! Don't make me starve.

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1. In Dreams She Comes

2. TrustSomeone?

3. Visitors

4. Connections

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Books » Harry Potter » The Point of No Return

text size: (+) : (-)

Author: Elizabeth5

1. In Dreams She Comes

2. TrustSomeone?

3. Visitors

4. Connections

PG - English - Action/Adventure/Romance - Reviews: 18 - Published: 03-29-04 - Updated: 04-07-04

id:1795668

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: Just a brief reminder, in this fic the X-Files crew and Harry and Hermione are all about the same age. I know that isn't really plausible, but...that's what fanfics are for!!! *evil laughter*

chapter four: Connections

Harry was angry, Hermione could tell, though he was trying desperately to remain calm. As Ron, Luna, and the Muggles cleared a space on the living room floor, Hermione reached out and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Harry, are you all right?”

“He didn’t tell us anything,” Harry said, turning to face her. “Dumbledore. He didn’t give us any information. I feel like I’m back in fifth year again, being purposefully kept in the dark. Why did he even bother coming?”

Hermione frowned. “Harry, you heard what Dumbledore said. For whatever reason, he wasn’t allowed to tell us. We have to trust his judgment. And as for why he came, well...he probably wanted to let you know that he wasn’t ignoring you. He wants to help, but he has to do it his own way.”

Ron approached, smiling tentatively as he glanced back and forth between them. “Everything all right over here?”

“Fine.” Harry said shortly.

Ron clapped his hands together. “Well, if the two of you can spare me, I need to get back to work. The Ministry waits for no man, and all.”

Hermione embraced him quickly. “Sorry about last night, Ron. We’ll make sure to owl you the next time we don’t show up for dinner.”

“You better.” Ron gave them one last parting grin, then turned to Luna. “Come on, sweetheart.” He glanced quickly at Reyes, blushing, then wrapped an arm around his wife. “Nice to meet everyone.”

When they were gone, Doggett stepped toward Harry and Hermione, his face openly wary. “Well, we’ve made a big enough space for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Now can you explain this whole Pensieve thing to us?”

“A Pensieve is a wizard tool used to store memories,” Hermione informed them, “sort of to help clear the mind. It can also be used to examine someone’s memory because it gives an unbiased view of what happened.”

Understanding dawned in Scully’s eyes. “So you’re going to create a Pensieve out of my memories so we can examine the dream.”

Hermione nodded. “Exactly. The only problem is that making a Pensieve for a Muggle is a little more complicated than creating one for a wizard. It requires the combined efforts of at least two wizards, and any extra strength we can use is helpful. That’s why we need everyone’s participation.”

On the opposite side of the room, Mulder folded his arms. “I don’t know if I like this. It sounds kind of dangerous.”

Scully met his gaze. “It’s all right, Mulder. I can handle this.”

They stared at one another, neither backing down. Harry intervened, stepping forward. “Don’t worry—Hermione’s running the show on this, and she was the top witch in her class. She won’t let anything happen.”

There was another tense pause, and then Mulder nodded. “All right.”

A short while later, they were sitting on the ground in a circle, holding hands. Doggett glanced around uncomfortably. “I feel kind of ridiculous,” he admitted.

Reyes smiled. “I feel like I’m thirteen again.”

Hermione busied herself passing around a potion that she had spent the last half hour or so brewing. “Everyone take a drink—just a sip will do.” When the cup came back to her, she took her own sip and grimaced. “Ooh, that’s horrid, isn’t it? Tastes kind of like sunflower seeds...”

Mulder merely grinned.

Hermione cleared her throat, all business once more. “All right, in a few minutes the potion should begin to take effect. There may be some strange side effects at first—we’ll all probably be forced to recount a memory, and it will most likely be a painful one. But we’re going to have to focus on Agent Scully--”

And suddenly, the room was spinning and a thousand muffled voices were screaming at once. An image projected in the center of the circle. It was a young Fox Mulder, watching as his sister was abducted by aliens. “Samantha...Samantha!!!”

Next there was a sobbing Scully, handing her baby over to the worker at the adoption agency. “William...”

A slightly younger Doggett, standing over the lifeless form of his son. “Luke...”

A five year old Reyes watching her grandmother draw in her last breath. “Nana...”

A fifteen year old Harry watching as Sirius toppled backward through the veil. “Sirius!”

A seventeen year old Hermione, realizing that Harry had gone to face Voldemort on his own. “Harry...”

At the head of the circle, Hermione pressed her eyes shut. *Focus* she thought wildly, forcing other painful memories from her mind. *We need to focus...*

And then the voices and images were dimming, and suddenly there was only one source drawing their energy. Lily Evans was in the midst of the circle, her green eyes wide with fright as Voldemort entered the room. She raced toward the stairs, her face frantic. A moment later, she was in the bedroom of a young baby boy who was sleeping in a crib. She gathered him in her arms, backing away as Voldemort entered the room. “No, please! Not Harry!” There was a flash of green light and then a scream.

As the green light began to fade, there was a flash of a face. Piercing blue eyes. Aristocratic features. Long shimmering blonde hair.

With a gasp, everyone returned to their normal state. Scully was trembling visibly, obviously shaken. Mulder took her hands. “Dana, are you all right?”

“I’m all right.” Scully said, even managing a weak smile. She glanced at Mulder, sensing he needed something to do. “I’d, um, like to take a bath.”

“I’m on it.” he said quickly, rushing to the bathroom.

On Scully’s other side, Reyes looked equally worried. “Can I get you anything, Dana? Maybe I should make you some tea...” Before Scully could even reply, Reyes was out of the room.

Seeing the stricken look on Hermione’s face, Scully smiled again. “I’m all right—really. It’s just...seeing that man’s face sort of gave me a shock.”

Harry frowned at this. “You haven’t seen him before?”

Scully shook her head. “No, this is the first time.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. “Can you excuse us?” Harry inquired. “We’ll only be a moment...”

They disappeared from the room, leaving Scully and Doggett alone together. She glanced over at him, seeing the open worry on his face. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he inquired.

“Fine.” Feeling a surge of bravery, she added, “And you?”

Doggett furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Scully shrugged. “Well, it’s just that since we started working on this case, you’ve scarcely spoken three words to me.”

Doggett stared at her for a moment, then glanced away. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Scully countered. “We used to be partners, John. I know when you’re avoiding something, and for some reason that something is me right now. What’s going on?”

“You didn’t say goodbye.” Doggett blurted abruptly.

Scully blinked at him in surprise. “What?”

Doggett looked thoroughly embarrassed now. “You didn’t say goodbye. We worked together for two years, Agent Scully, and then you just took off with Mulder without so much as a word of goodbye. Working with you meant a lot to me. I considered you a friend, but apparently you didn’t feel the same way.”

She was silent, stunned. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Agent Doggett. That was certainly never my intention. Everything just happened so fast...”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Just forget it.”

Scully frowned at him. “Agent Doggett--”

Mulder reentered the room. “Bath’s almost...” He stopped seeing the expressions on their faces. “What is it? Is everything all right?”

“Fine.” Doggett said briskly, rising to his feet. “I think I’ll go see if Monica needs help with the tea.”

***

As soon as they were in the dining room, Harry whirled to face Hermione. “Did you just see what I saw?”

“Lucius Malfoy.” Hermione confirmed grimly. “There was no mistaking him.”

Harry let out a confused sigh, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I don’t understand. Why of all people was Lucius Malfoy in the dream?”

“It is rather strange,” Hermione confirmed. “I didn’t know he and your mother were connected.”

“They weren’t.” Harry returned. “At least, not so far as I know. They weren’t in the same year at Hogwarts or anything. They must have known each other through the wizarding world, but other than that...”

Hermione was silent for a moment, pondering this. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to find some answers.”

“Draco.” Harry confirmed grimly.

They started toward the door. Harry stopped abruptly and frowned at her. “Um...Hermione?”

“Yeah?”

He looked down at his hands. “When we were in the circle, your painful memory...it was when I left to fight Voldemort, wasn’t it?”

It was her turn to feel uncomfortable. “Yes, it was.” she replied honestly.

Harry sighed. “I didn’t realize that you were still upset about that. You know I only left you behind because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Hermione looked away. “ I know, Harry. And logically, I can understand that. But I won’t lie—at the time, I was really hurt that you left me behind. I felt like you didn’t think I was strong enough.”

He shook his head. “That isn’t it, Hermione. It’s because I knew that if something happened to you, I could never be strong enough to fight him. I couldn’t just--”

She placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. “ I know, Harry.” Her face grew suddenly intense. “But promise me that you’ll never leave me behind like that again, Harry. Promise me.”

Harry hesitated, but only for a moment. “I promise.”

***

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