And Chaos Ensued

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June 18, 2003

~9:30 PM

Georgetown, Virginia

“It was so much better than the first one,” Scully was arguing as she followed Mulder down the hallway. “The partnership between Trinity and Neo was more solid, and there was even more insight into what actually makes us all human—”

“All I’m saying is that nothing can beat the original,” he insisted. “The sheer brilliance of the plotline, and the ground-breaking special effects… unparalleled.”

They found themselves in front of the apartment door, and both of them sighed ruefully. “It’s too early to go back,” Scully whined, and leaned on his arm playfully. “We can pay overtime, Kate will understand if we stay out a little longer…”

“But William won’t,” said Mulder, trying to foil Scully’s attempts to yank his hands away from the door. He finally got his keys in the lock, only by kissing her senseless so she’d leave him alone.

“No, come on,” she said, unsuccessfully tugging him back towards the elevator. “We never get time to ourselves anymore—”

She was interrupted by a piercing howl coming from inside the apartment, a cry she recognized as her son’s. She instantly looked at Mulder, who mirrored her expression of alarm and urgency.

He unlocked the door, flung it open, and quickly scanned the room for his son. William was sitting alone in the hallway near the bedroom, and crying hysterically. Scully rushed past her partner and scooped up the toddler, clutching him to her chest.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she soothed, stroking his hair. “It’s all right, mommy’s here…” Mulder looked at her worriedly as he searched the apartment, one hand on his holster.

William let out another wail and pointed towards the guest bedroom. “Kayyyy!”

Mulder’s head jerked in his son’s direction. “Kate? Where’s Kate, William?” He hurried past both mother and son to the dark bedroom, where the door was wide open and the curtains flapped in the breeze.

“Oh God, Scully,” he said over his shoulder. “Call the police.”

“Blunt force trauma to the occipital lobe, weapon unknown…” the coroner was mumbling into a tape recorder as he followed the CSU outside.

Half an hour later, the crime scene unit had removed the body and a detective was trying to question two-year-old William and his extremely distraught mother.

“Who would do this?” Scully sobbed, trying to comfort William as a few remaining cops swarmed out of the bedroom with evidence bags. “I just don’t know why this keeps happening to us…” Mulder squeezed her shoulders reassuringly.

“I called Doggett and Reyes,” he whispered covertly.

“All right, Ms. Scully, I think we’re done here,” said the detective. “We just need to keep the crime scene sealed for about a week while we process the evidence.”

Scully nodded tearfully and shook his hand. “Thank you, detective,” she said. “My colleagues Agents Doggett and Reyes will be helping you with the investigation. I’m sure their experience will be useful to you.”

“FBI?” said the detective, frowning. “I’m sure our forensics team can handle it on their own—”

“No, no, I insist,” said Scully. “Really, I’m sure they’d be happy to take this case off your hands… I’ll have them contact you in a few days.”

Mulder hastily showed the detective to the exit and, after thanking him profusely for his support and understanding, shut the door behind him. Finally he turned around, leaning against the door, and sighed in utter exhaustion. He shook his head. “Scully, what are we going to do?”

She looked up at him from the couch, all traces of tears gone from both her face and her voice, and shrugged. “He didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ceramic snowglobe encrusted with dried blood, weighing it in his hand. “This is the third babysitter he’s killed this year, Scully. He’s the only toddler in the world with a body count.”

“He’s only trying to catch up to his father,” she retorted, watching fondly as William giggled at the colored foam building blocks floating above his head. Mulder frowned and plucked the blocks out of thin air, stuffing them in William’s very large toybox and locking the lid.

“This doesn’t bother you at all?”

“Of course it does. You think I like coming home to a dead babysitter on my living room floor? You think I like having to cover our bed with a shatterproof plastic safety bubble at night, so we won’t die in our sleep if William dreams about falling ceiling fans or dancing nightstands?”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Mulder asked, again.

Scully sighed. “John and Monica should be here soon,” she said. “Maybe they’ll have an idea.”

As if on cue, and also to move the story along, there was a knock at the door. Mulder opened it and ushered Doggett and Reyes inside. They were dressed nicely, as if they’d just been out to a fine restaurant.

William came running unsteadily up to them, and Doggett scooped him up with a grin. “Hey, buddy! Heard you caused some trouble again tonight!”

“I did not!” said William, giggling.

“I think it was William, in the bedroom, with the snowglobe,” said Reyes.

“She’s right,” said Scully. “Game over.”

Doggett transferred the toddler into Mulder’s arms. “Looks like we’ve got another homicide to illegally sweep under the rug,” he said, inspecting the door to the nursery, which was sealed with crime tape. “Your two-year-old has his own conspiracy network.”

“Well, we’re looking to disband that conspiracy,” Mulder said, “and as always, all suggestions are welcome.”

“Sorry,” said Doggett, “I must have missed the lesson at Quantico called, ‘How to De-Telekineticize Your Toddler.’”

“It’s a book, actually,” said Scully, picking it up from the coffee table. “Don’t waste your money, it didn’t work.”

“Well, I think William is a special case,” said Reyes, thoughtfully. “Or… maybe not so special after all…”

She trailed off into silence, apparently in a world of her own, and her eyes glazed over. Everyone turned to look at her expectantly, and finally Doggett snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“Oh!” she said suddenly. “Sorry. I was just having a vision- something about a snowglobe, and a dead babysitter. Weird, huh? So, what was I saying?”

“I think you were trying to say that you had an idea about William and his…” Scully waved her hands in the air to represent the flying objects that had become a part of their everyday lives.

“Ohhh, yeah,” said Reyes. “Okay, I’ve done a lot of research and a lot of thinking, and I believe that certain unexplainable occurrences in the X-Files seem to fit a profile.”

“What do you mean, a profile?” asked Doggett.

Reyes smiled slightly and her voice lowered, signalling an impending crackpot theory that everyone was sure to reject. “Well… think about phenomena like levitation, spontaneous combustion, mind control, and teleportation. All are thoroughly documented but still completely unexplained. At least… unexplained by us.”

Scully crossed her arms. “What are you saying, Agent Reyes? That there’s someone out there that can explain all those things?”

“Not just one person, Agent Scully. A whole society of people- a secret society- all around the world. Not only can they explain those phenomena, but they also make it all happen themselves. They’re wizards, they use magic. And they’re everywhere.”

“You’ve been reading too much fantasy,” said Mulder with a laugh. Reyes chuckled too, but then bit her lip and looked at her feet. Mulder’s smile vanished. “Reyes? Please tell me you know the difference between fantasy and reality.”

“Of course I know the difference. I’m just saying… that maybe the line between fantasy and reality isn’t as straight and clear as we thought. What if there’s a whole other world out there, full of wizards and magic and impossible things? What if it’s all around us, and right under our noses?” She glanced at William. “We just have to look for it.”

Doggett chuckled, embarrassed. He draped a condescending arm across his partner’s shoulders and whispered, “Mon, sweetheart, did you order a few extra drinks for yourself while I wasn’t looking?”

“I’m not drunk, John,” she said, pushing his arm away. “I’m serious. Think of how simple it would be if you guys just believed in this. It would explain so much… I mean, you could practically retire the X-Files, Mulder.”

“Agent Reyes, as much as I appreciate your intent to wrap up my life’s work, I really don’t think wizards are the answer. Maybe you should talk to Langly, I’m sure he’d love to add you to his D&D group. Lord Manhammer and company haven’t had a girl in their game since 1986.”

“Monica, I promise, we’re going to get you the best doctors,” said Doggett. “You can have your pick of psychiatrists from the NYPD, the Marines, not to mention the standard Bureau shrinks.”

Reyes sighed and turned to Scully. “Do you think I’m crazy, too?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Scully. “You need to tell me what this has to do with my son.”

Reyes took a deep breath. “Call it a feeling, but I think that William may have magical tendencies. He may be an early bloomer of the wizarding world.”

“Oh, no, you must be mistaken,” said Mulder. “See, my son’s an alien, not a wizard—” Scully gave him a shove in the arm.

“At least get him checked out,” Reyes insisted. “There are ways to tell if he’s magic or not. Take him to…” She whipped out a worn and highlighted hardcover book and pointed to the name of the school, circled with red pen. “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Mulder let out a laugh, and Doggett shot him a look that said, ‘I’d laugh too if I weren’t so damn worried about her mental health.’ Mulder quieted and joined the very long and uncomfortable silence that was hanging over them. But finally Scully spoke, bravely.

“So, Monica… how do we get there?” she asked.

Mulder turned and stared at her. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Why not? Isn’t it worth it to find out, for William?”

“Are you running a fever?” He moved to feel her forehead, but she slapped his hand away.

“I want to try this, Mulder,” she said calmly, then lapsed into ultra-dramatic mode: “I need to know what’s wrong with my son!!”

Everyone rolled their eyes. “Here we go again,” muttered Doggett. “Give her an Emmy, somebody, for Christ’s sake—”

“All right, all right,” Mulder said quickly. “We’ll take William to… Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He shook his head incredulously as the words left his mouth.

“As if I needed your permission,” Scully said under her breath. Mulder opened his mouth to retort, but wisely thought better of it and said nothing.

So our four heroes and the toddler packed up their belongings and headed east— across the pond to Scotland.

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June 19, 2003

11:32 AM G.M.T. (6:32 AM E.S.T.)

A bit jet-lagged from their early morning flight, the Agents slowly approached the gate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They caught sight of an old man squinting in their direction. He was very tall, and had very long silver-grey hair and beard. His emerald-green robes touched the cobblestone path on which he stood. He adjusted his glasses as they approached, setting them nearer to his pale blue eyes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” he said cheerfully, shaking Mulder’s hand. “You must be Fox.”

“Mulder,” Mulder corrected him. “This is Agent Scully and our son William, and Agents Doggett and Reyes,” he said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

“Pleased to meet you,” said the old man. “I have heard so much about you. I must say, your work on the X-Files is quite impressive.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My job is to run the school and to make sure that visiting FBI agents— and their children— have comfortable stays here.”

William laughed as Dumbledore winked and smiled at him. Together they walked up the path leading to the great wooden doors of the castle. The doors swung open before they were even within reach of them; the agents watched with raised eyebrows. Dumbledore marched through the stone corridors with enormous strides, humming to himself as he went. The others followed, feeling as if they were in a dream; they tried to ignore the curious stares coming from young witches and wizards in every direction, all uniformed in black robes and tall, pointed hats.

“It’s like something out of a kids’ book,” Doggett whispered to Reyes.

“It is out of a kids’ book,” Reyes whispered back. Doggett grew quiet, pondering the irony.

Dumbledore led them to the foot of a steeply winding staircase, at the foot of which stood two other professors and a gargoyle. “Minerva, Severus,” Dumbledore greeted his waiting colleagues, “these are our guests. Remember, I told you they would be dropping in for a while today?” He introduced the professors to each agent.

“Now, it’s time to get down to business,” said Dumbledore, clapping his hands. “Fox, Dana, William, and Minerva, I’m going to ask you all to come up to my office and discuss the problem at hand. Severus, would you mind remaining down here with John and Monica?”

“Not at all,” said Snape in his smooth voice, not taking his eyes off Reyes. Monica blushed a bit. Doggett narrowed his eyes.

“Mars Bar,” said Dumbledore, pointing his wand at the gargoyle. The stairs opened up and he led Mulder, Scully, and McGonagall up the winding steps into his circular office. Scully set William down on a chair once they reached the office. Fawkes the phoenix came down and sat on William’s shoulder; Scully loosened her gun in its holster, ready to blast off the bird’s pretty little head should it dare try to bite her son.

“I assure you, Fawkes poses no threat to William,” Dumbledore told her. “And may I inform you that the phoenix is an endangered species, and should any harm come to Fawkes, you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a group devoted to the preservation of this remarkable species, I feel obliged to tell you that.” He cleared his throat, and gestured to Mulder and Scully to take their seats in front of his desk.

“I understand that you have some questions concerning young William here,” said Dumbledore.

“Well, his behavior has been a little strange, to tell you the truth,” said Mulder.

“Ah, the truth,” said Dumbledore vaguely, and looked mysteriously out of the window. Mulder grinned at Scully as if to say, ‘I like this guy.’

There was a minute or so of silence until Professor McGonagall spoke. “I have checked the Hogwarts records,” she said. “We have a magical quill, named Henry, that writes down the names of every magical child born, and William’s name is not on the list. However, it is entirely possible that Henry slipped up a bit. He’s over a thousand years old, after all. Perhaps he is going senile. I’ll have to have a talk with him, and get back to you.”

Dumbledore turned around and faced them. He clapped his hands again. “That settles it,” he said. “Minerva will double-check William’s status as a potential wizard, and the rest of us will enjoy the day with our delightful guests.” He beamed at Mulder and Scully, who stared. “Oh!” Dumbledore added suddenly. “We’ll want our way clear of student distractions; on the other hand, there are some students I would like you to meet, and they can hardly meet you if they’re in class, can they?”

Dumbledore pointed his wand at his throat and said, “Sonorus.” He pocketed his wand and plugged his ears. “ATTENTION, ALL HOGWARTS STUDENTS!”

Scully covered William’s ears; Mulder covered Scully’s, and waited courageously for the noise to lessen.

“TODAY’S CLASSES HAVE BEEN CANCELED FOR PLOT PURPOSES. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR COMPLIMENTARY HOLIDAY. THANK YOU; THAT IS ALL. Quietus.”

A deafening cheer about fifty decibels lower than Dumbledore’s voice thundered from every classroom, hallway, lavatory, and secret chamber. “Please follow me,” Dumbledore said happily, and started down the steps. Mulder, who had gone temporarily deaf, didn’t move; Scully tapped on his shoulder and motioned for him to descend the stairs behind her.

“I’m a big fan of your work on the X-Files,” Snape was just starting to say to Reyes, and step a little closer to her, when the gargoyle opened again and out stepped Dumbledore and the others. Snape stopped in his tracks and reassumed his silent, eerie demeanour. Dumbledore filled them in on the plans for the day.

“Right now we’ll go down to the Great Hall for lunch,” he said. “There you can meet a few more Hogwarts celebrities. I’m sure we’ll all have a great time.”

They trouped through the hallways, Dumbledore in the lead. Suddenly he stopped, peered into a room from an open door on his left, and led them all in. It was an empty room, completely round, with three padlocked doors across the room from where they now stood. Thirteen unlit candles floated near the walls; the only other object was a mirror, standing upright in the centre of the room.

“The Mirror of Erised,” Dumbledore announced, “may be of interest to you, or to your curiosities if nothing else. This mirror, of unknown magical origins, will show you the deepest desire of your hearts.”

Nobody moved, save Scully, who rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be intimidated,” Dumbledore said. “Go on, give it a try, somebody.”

Snape leaned sideways and whispered into Reyes’s ear in a low monotone. “I dare not gaze into it, my lady, for fear that I would see your face beside mine, and embarrass you.”

“Does he always act like this?” Doggett, annoyed, asked Dumbledore loudly. Snape, his attention fixated on Reyes, didn’t even hear.

“Not at all,” replied Dumbledore, glancing quickly at Snape. “He is acting uncharacteristically… uncharacteristic today.” He paused. “Do you know why this is, John?”

Doggett did know. “Plot purposes.”

“Plot purposes, indeed,” agreed Dumbledore. “More specifically, humour purposes. Just be thankful for his atypical state. I assure you, it is much more pleasant today than it normally is around Professor Snape. He is usually, for lack of a better word, a bastard. So, do not complain.”

Doggett was about to point out that he’d heavily prefer Snape in his classic “bastard” demeanour than in this bizarre “Romeo” bearing, when a movement behind him interrupted him. Mulder sidestepped in front of the Mirror, and glanced where his reflection should have been.

He blinked a few times and said in a tone of false wonder, “Diana?” He turned to Scully, grinned stupidly at his own joke, and waited for her reaction.

Scully stepped in front of him and gazed into the Mirror. “Walter? Mmm, you’ve been working out, haven’t you?” She then turned on the spot, raised an eyebrow at Mulder, and walked over to stop William from eating one of the floating candles. Mulder’s grin evaporated.

Before Doggett had a chance to use the Mirror (in which he expected to see Professor Severus Snape’s head upon a platter in a puddle of its own grease), Dumbledore clapped his hands and it vanished in a whiff of green smoke. “We had better move on,” he said cheerily, “or we shall miss lunch. And what a terrible thing that would be!”

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They continued their walk, and this time they did not stop until they reached the doors through which they had come into the castle. They crossed the Entrance Hall and pushed through the doors into an enormous room spanned by four long tables. A group of people was already seated at one of the tables, talking comfortably with each other. They all looked up as Dumbledore led the guests into the chamber.

“Hello, everybody!” Dumbledore yelled across the room as he led them towards the occupied table.

“Hello, Professor,” a few of the seated wizards said in unison.

“Who’re these, then?” shouted a tall, red-haired boy, pointing at the agents.

“Everybody, meet Mr. Fox Mulder, Ms. Dana Scully, and their son William, and Ms. Monica Reyes and Mr. John Doggett. They’re here at Hogwarts as our guests today,” explained Dumbledore. “Agents, meet Misters Ron, Fred, and George Weasley, Miss Ginny Weasley, their mother Mrs. Molly Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Sirius Black, and Mr. Harry Potter.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Reyes, shaking Harry’s hand fervently and looking star-struck.

Snape quickly pulled her arm away from Harry. “Don’t waste your attention on Potter, for he deserves none of it.” Reyes looked unsure as to what to do, so he suavely added, “Can I get you something to drink?”

She hesitated. “Sure,” she finally said. “What do you have?”

Snape gazed down into her eyes. “Anything you want,” he said in his trademark low whisper.

“Uh, great. I’ll have a martini.” She turned to her partner. “John, you want any-” But Snape had already disappeared towards his office, and Doggett glared after him.

Dumbledore took advantage of the awkward silence to seize everybody’s attention. “Please, sit down, everyone,” he said warmly. “So, I assume you already know all about Harry and his most interesting life?” he asked the agents.

Mulder responded, “Actually, I’m not familiar with any of this. It’s more Reyes’s specialty, not mine.”

Harry turned red and looked down at the table as his best friends and godfather took the liberty of recounting every moment of Harry’s life, from his infancy to the homework he had done the night before. When they mentioned Voldemort, the most evil, sinister dark wizard to plague the Earth, Mulder finally spoke up.

“Oh yeah, I know that guy. His name’s not really Voldemort, though; that’s just an alias. His name’s C.G.B. Spender. And actually, he’s my father.”

Harry looked up and said, “Actually, he’s my father. Or so fanfiction writers have told me.”

“Wow, my dad sure gets around, doesn’t he?” Mulder said. “Every few years I pick up a new sibling, or a clone of one. But then they’re kidnapped, tortured, and disfigured, and die horrible deaths and get burned alive and decompose into green alien acid…”

Scully hissed at him under her breath and poked him to shut him up. The others around the table were staring at him, appalled; they had suddenly lost their appetites for the lunch that was on its way.

“Um, so…” Mulder broke the silence. “You people are really magical, huh?”

“Yeah, mate, we sure are,” said Ron.

“Well, I’d sure love to see some real magic. What can you guys do that’s really impressive?”

Mulder’s eyes turned first to Harry, who blushed a bit and said, “Erm, I think we’d best leave that to the experts…” Harry turned his head and looked at Professor McGonagall.

“Very well,” said the professor. She got up from her seat and walked over to the aisle in front of the table. Nothing happened for a moment— but in a blink of an eye, Professor McGonagall was gone, and a tabby cat was standing in her place.

Mulder, Scully, and Reyes applauded enthusiastically. But when the cat caught Doggett staring skeptically in its direction, it quickly morphed back into McGonagall’s human form. “Not impressed, Agent Doggett?”

“Well, sure, I tend to be impressed when a woman turns herself into a cat. It’s not something I see every day.”
“But he’s more of a dog person,” Reyes joked, smiling fondly at her partner.

“A dog person,” McGonagall repeated thoughtfully. Doggett decided he didn’t like the look on her face one bit. Nor did he like it when she raised her wand and pointed it straight at him. His eyes widened and he started to back away.

McGonagall muttered something inaudible and, with a flick of her wrist, an array of carnation-pink light poured out of the tip of the wand and hit Doggett square in the chest. He lost his balance and fell backwards to the floor, and another flash momentarily blinded everyone watching. When their eyes adjusted again, they found that Doggett’s clothes were lying in a heap, in the rough shape of a six-foot-tall FBI agent.

Unfortunately, the FBI agent was not inside them.

“What the bleep-” Scully muttered, staring down at the empty, smoking clothing. She dumped William into Mulder’s arms, kneeled to examine the evidence, and then looked incredulously up at McGonagall. “Where’d he go?”

“Right there,” said the professor, and she pointed at a small lump within Doggett’s suit jacket, suddenly moving towards Scully’s hand. Scully jumped up in surprise and they all watched- some in horror, some in amusement- as an immaculately white, curly-haired, five-pound toy poodle nosed its way out of Doggett’s sleeve.

“Oh, my God,” said Scully, horrified.

“Oh, my God,” said Mulder, delighted.

“That was a great martini,” said Reyes, chewing on her olive, oblivious.

The poodle looked up at them in bewilderment, its head cocked to one side. It opened its mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was, “Yip?”

Mulder burst out laughing, and pointed a finger at the poor, utterly appalled poodle, showing William. “See, look at Uncle John! What does Uncle John say?”

“Woof!” William cried gleefully.

“Actually, yip!” said Mulder, and backed off, still laughing, as the poodle started to growl at him.

Doggett sat there, his new tail motionless on the floor, oversized ears drooping, glaring up at everyone around him- especially Snape, who now had Monica’s undivided attention. Doggett ran over to her and tugged on her pant leg, whimpering. She looked down and gasped with delight.

“It’s a doggie!” she exclaimed, and scooped the poodle up, holding him to her cheek. “Awww, he’s sooo cute! Wook at the wittle baby doggie-dog-Doggett!” Doggett licked her hand pathetically, apparently begging to be put out of his misery.

“Hey, Professor McGonagall, weren’t you going to go check on William’s wizard status?” Mulder said, a bit hastily.

“Oh, that’s right. I’ll be back in a couple hours. Harry, Ron, and Hermione will give you all a grand tour while I’m gone.” With that, she turned and walked briskly out of the room.

Doggett let out what could only be described as a wail, and Scully started to call the professor back, but Mulder pressed a hand over her mouth, grinning. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re evil,” she scolded, but smiled.

Scully reached into William’s very large diaper bag, pulled out a fabric sling baby carrier, and handed it to Reyes. Monica frowned at it for a moment, but then got the idea and slipped her arms into the straps. Doggett began to struggle wildly as she tried to stuff him into the baby carrier, but eventually he realized that a position next to Reyes’ chest was one to envy, and settled into the sling quite comfortably. He stuck out his tongue at Snape as Monica scratched him behind the ears.

“That’s a good puppy…” Reyes cooed, and Snape took her arm, raising an eyebrow at Doggett as if to say, ‘I’m not the one in the baby carrier, buddy.’

To add insult to injury, Snape leaned sideways and kissed Monica suavely— but the kiss was cut short when Doggett snarled, barked, and sank his needle-like teeth into Snape’s throat. In quick succession Snape cursed, wrenched the poodle out of his neck, drew his wand, and closed his jugular vein by magic before he bled to death. Doggett was still barking ferociously, his immaculately white fur now stained with a bit of blood.

“Ohhhhh, are you okay, Severus?” Monica simpered.

“I’m fine,” Snape growled through gritted teeth, fixing the poodle with a death glare. He took Monica’s arm once again.

As if to show Snape who was boss, Doggett stuck his tiny black nose deep into Monica’s chest, and burrowed there with his paws like he was trying to dig up a bone.

“No! Bad Doggett! Get your paws off me!” shouted Monica. She reached into the baby carrier, lifted Doggett out, and placed him on the floor. “Looks like someone has a little pent-up energy. Why don’t you run around and get some exercise, little doggie?”

Doggett growled; he wasn’t about to give up that easily. He waited until Monica had turned her attention back to Snape, and then ran up and began to hump her leg. Rather, he began to hump her ankle.

Monica looked down, appalled. “No! Dammit, John, later! Later!” She kicked her leg repeatedly until Doggett flipped over and fell to the floor.

“John? Later?” said Snape, alarmed, but he quickly resumed his smooth demeanour. “Another martini for Miss Reyes, I think,” he added, and swept off to his private minibar in his office.

“He is just so sexy when he walks that way,” Monica sighed.

Doggett sat there staring at Reyes and looking quite anxious, but he didn’t fancy another kick to his curly tail, so he looked around desperately for somewhere to relieve his arousal. He settled on Scully’s leg, but before he knew it Mulder had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up to eye level.

“As soon as you’re not five pounds of pretty white fluff, I’m kicking your ass,” said Mulder. With a flourish he threw Doggett against the wall. Doggett slid to the ground with a depressing ‘splat,’ then lay down, watching the others miserably.

“Are you okay, Scully?” said Mulder.

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

As Snape returned with another drink for Monica, Mulder and Scully turned their attention to Ginny Weasley, who was ogling Harry from her safe seat beside her mother.

“I’m pretty sure she hasn’t taken her eyes off him the entire time we’ve been here,” said Scully.

Mulder grinned. “If only I’d caught you gazing at me like that down in the basement every day, maybe we wouldn’t have wasted so much time…”

“I did not gaze at you,” she insisted. “You know I wouldn’t be caught dead doing something so pathetic—”

“PARDON ME?” shrieked Mrs. Weasley, rising from her seat. “Did I just hear the word pathetic used to describe my Ginny? My baby, my only daughter—”

Undaunted, Scully stepped up. “Well, yes, you know, I really think you should talk to her about her social state—”

“I won’t have some unmarried American federal whore telling me how to raise my children, thank you very much!”

“Well, it’s true!” Scully said defensively. “Your daughter has some serious issues that must be dealt with!”

“Well at least I don’t have a little freak for a son!”

“At least my kid hasn’t been possessed by an evil dark lord!”

Scully and Mrs. Weasley continued in this manner for quite some time, and their argument flared into a fiery battle between overprotective mothers. The uproar finally ended when Mrs. Weasley stalked away and out of the Great Hall, leaving Scully staring angrily and incredulously after her.

“Molly—” said Dumbledore, and he hurried out after her.

“You wouldn’t do that to our children, would you?” Harry asked Hermione anxiously.

“No, of course not,” said Hermione. “I think it’s just the red hair.”

“Hey!” objected Ginny.

“Shut up,” said Harry, annoyed. “For the last time, you are not having my children! I do not sleep with fangirls!”

Very audible gasps issued from under the table. Startled, Harry ducked down and lifted up the tablecloth; a herd of fangirls shrieked and scampered out from under the table.

“How did they get in here?” Harry said angrily, standing up on the table to keep the girls from jumping on him.

“Did you hear that?” one fangirl said dejectedly. “He’s not going to sleep with us after all!”

“I can’t believe it!” said another.

“I’m going to commit suicide!”

“I’m coming with you!”

“Wahhhhhhhh!”

The fangirls moved as one toward the door, presumably heading towards the Hogwarts lake, in which they planned to drown themselves. Poor Doggett found himself in their direct path and he squealed at Reyes for help; she scooped him up just as he was about to be trampled into a Korean delicacy.

But one of the fangirls, having just noticed Mulder present and suddenly looking very good in jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a black leather jacket, shouted, “WAIT!”

The stampede came to a halt and turned around.

“I have a better idea,” said the fangirl. “Let’s go join the FBI and be assigned to the X-Files division so we can help Mulder forget about Scully after her sudden, nasty, and untimely death!”

“Good idea, Special Agent Mary Sue!”

Mulder looked at his current and still-alive partner uneasily. “Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“Run!”

At that moment the horde of fangirls descended on them like a swarm of virus-carrying, corn-crop pollinating bees. Mulder and Scully ran for the doors, swatting behind them at the girls giving chase. With a great effort they managed to shove them out of the Great Hall and lock them in the Entrance Hall. Panting, they leaned against the doors, which could barely contain the fangirls’ frantic attempts to get back inside.

“Are you okay, Scully?”

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

Ron cocked an eyebrow at Mulder. “Uh… what happened to your suit?”

“What?”

“I mean, why isn’t it a suit anymore?”

Mulder looked down at himself and noticed his change of clothes for the first time. “Ohhh,” he said, understanding. “This is The Outfit. Makes me irresistible to mindless fangirls, and most other heterosexual females, for that matter. Especially those named Teresa, so I’m told.”

“And those named Hermione,” said Hermione, looking him over with approval.

“I have a black leather invisibility cloak,” Harry offered, feeling a bit unfashionable.

“You do not,” scoffed Ron. “You have a homemade knit sweater with a stupid dragon on the front.”

“Hey, that’s cool too,” said Mulder, trying unsuccessfully to encourage Harry, who just grumbled.

“I’m interested,” said Scully, deciding to change the subject to something a bit more intelligent than fashion. “Does magic have limitations? Is there anything it can’t do?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Hermione. “Some things just can’t be changed by magic— weather, for instance. Even You-Know-Who wouldn’t be able to stop it from raining if he wanted to take a beach holiday.”

“And it’s a good thing I never died, because magic can’t bring people back from the dead,” said Sirius.

“That’s right,” said Ron. “But other than that, magic can do just about anything!”

“I don’t know about that,” said Scully. “Can it really fix unconquerable addictions to porn?” she asked, looking pointedly at Mulder.

“You know, my wife asked the very same question,” said Sirius matter-of-factly to Scully.

“Sirius, you don’t have a wife,” Harry pointed out.

At that moment, the doors of the Great Hall opened a crack, and Remus Lupin squeezed his way out of the throng of fangirls and made his way over to the table.

“Hello everyone, sorry I’m late,” he said. He embraced Sirius and engaged in a passionate snog.

“Oh… my… God…” said Ron.

“My eyes! My eyes!” said Hermione.

“I… I have a godmother!” said Harry.

“Are you okay, Scully?”

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

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Sirius and Remus’s happy (and somewhat disturbing) reunion was interrupted by the arrival of lunch; Dobby the house-elf appeared with an abundance of delicious foods.

“Thank GOD! Real food! I haven’t eaten anything but sunflower seeds since fanfiction.net opened online,” said Mulder, loading a plate with steak and potatoes.

“That’s nothing!” said Hermione. “At least you haven’t been paired in a romantic ship with every male in the magical universe and half the females.”

“Same with me,” said Harry, pulling a face. “Would you believe that people ship me and Malfoy together?”

“Well, at least in the fanfiction world he’s a sex god. It could be worse,” said Ron.

Hermione groaned. “Stop it, you’re just trying to pair Harry with someone else so you can have me all to yourself.”

“No, I’m not!” Ron paused. “Fine, I am. But you would too if the next best thing was being shipped with your own right hand. Either that or I’m evil or dead. You guys don’t have that problem. Harry could always marry Ginny…”

Harry promptly vomited onto the floor.

“Oh, don’t dump her on Harry, Ron,” said Hermione. “Haven’t you ever heard of Weasleycest?”

“We have!” chorused Fred and George.

Ron promptly vomited onto the floor.

“She’s right, Ron,” Sirius told him. “And let me tell you, you could do worse than your oldest brother…”

“Erm…” said Ron uneasily, “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s not already paired up.”

“Rumour has it Merchieftainess Murcus is single and looking,” offered Harry.

“Harry!” Ron hissed. “You’re giving them ideas!”

“Who?”

“Them…”

“Who?”

Ron drew a slow and shaky breath. “Harry, I have something I want to tell you.” He grabbed Harry’s arm and continued, “I see fanfiction writers. They’re everywhere. They don’t even know they’re fanfiction writers.”

A chill ran up Harry’s spine. “When do you see them?”

Ron’s voice had dropped to a trembling, horrified squeak; terror was etched into his face. “All the time.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, Ron, and I’m snogging Nearly Headless Nick.”

“I’m serious!” said Ron.

“No, I’m Sirius!” said Sirius. Everyone laughed heartily.

“Don’t worry, Ron, there’s always Fleur Delacour,” said Harry.

“’Fraid not,” said Ron unhappily. “She and Bill just got engaged.”

“That’s too bad,” said Harry. “She’s a fox.”

“No, I’m Fox!” said Mulder, and he laughed heartily. Nobody joined in. “Well how come it was so bleeping funny when he did it?” Mulder whined, pointing at Sirius. Scully buried her face in her hands, shaking her head.

“Anyway…” said Ron, who was goggling at Harry. “Since when do you notice girls, Harry?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“I thought all this You-Know-Who fighting was permanently postponing your puberty.”

“Alliteration, anyone?” said Hermione.

“Again,” Harry interrupted, speaking to Ron, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Harry,” Ron laughed. “You remember what you used to be like…”

“Er…”

Ron cleared his throat and continued talking in a dead-on impression of Harry Potter, age fourteen: “Rumour is, I have a penis.”

Everyone snorted with laughter, except for Harry, who still looked confused, and Hermione, who said, “Well, at least his willie is longer than his nose!”

Ron turned red and said, “I happen to have a very long nose.”

Hermione was about to retort when suddenly the Great Hall’s heavy oak doors swung open with a booming flourish. Into the hall strode Lucius Malfoy, followed closely by Draco, who was shaking fangirls from his legs as he walked.

Mulder stifled a laugh and nudged his partner, staring at the new visitors. “Scully, have you seen Lord of the Rings?” he whispered.

“Yes. And I know what you’re thinking.”

“So it’s not just me.”

“No, it’s true. The older one looks exactly like that elf from the woods who bit the dust at Helm’s Deep.”

“Yeah, he was sort of creepy,” said Mulder.

“Speaking of creepy, that Wormtongue guy really freaked me out,” said Scully, shivering. “I mean, I’ve never been so damn scared of a movie character before. He actually gave me nightmares.”

“Oh, are you okay, Scully?”

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

The Malfoys swaggered over to the table, smirking at the whole group.

“Agents, this is Lucius Malfoy and his son Draco,” said Professor Snape. “Lucius, these are FBI Agents Mulder, Scully, and the ravishingly beautiful Agent Monica Reyes.” Reyes giggled. Doggett rolled his eyes, but was actually a bit grateful to Snape for not including him in the introductions.

“Nice to meet you,” said Mulder, extending a hand. Lucius glanced at it but didn’t move a muscle. Mulder frowned uncomfortably and raised the hand to his hair, trying to salvage a bit of his dignity.

“You’re Muggles,” Lucius scoffed. “What business could you possibly have here?”

“We’re, uh, here to find out if our son is a wizard.” He glanced over at William, who was perched on Monica’s arm, happily petting Uncle John.

“Ah,” said Draco, slowly stepping towards William. “A little baby Mudblood. How… sweet.” He extended a finger towards the toddler, but almost lost it to the snapping jaws of the fluffy poodle.

“Don’t call him that!” Ron snarled.

“What’s a Mudblood?” Mulder whispered to Ron.

Still scowling at Malfoy, Ron told Mulder and Scully, “Mudblood is a really insulting thing to call a wizard who has Muggles for parents. It’s about the worst thing you can call someone in the magical world.”

“Worse than a bleepity bleep bleep horse-bleeper?” asked Scully, appalled. Mulder glanced at her, shocked at her language. Ron nodded solemnly.

Mulder turned around to face the Malfoys and let out a tense chuckle. “That’s… nice. Yeah. You know what?” He pointed at Draco, then clenched his fist to keep his middle finger from going solo. “I don’t want that little albino douchebag anywhere near my son.”

Draco’s lip curled in a snarl and he stepped forward challengingly, his hand moving to his wand. But his father grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, glaring at Mulder.

“Oh, don’t worry. Draco doesn’t bother with those… things. Baby Mudbloods are little more than food for vicious three-headed dogs, and after-dinner mints for dragons. I suggest you keep your son under close watch, Mr. Mulder, or he may wander onto the plate of my hungry guard Chimaera. And that would be very messy, if you catch my drift-”

Mulder leaped forward with a growl, reaching for Lucius Malfoy’s throat, but Scully held him back, barely.

“Mulder! Mulder, calm down!” She turned him towards her, away from the Malfoys, and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Take a deep breath. In and out, that’s right. Okay. You okay?”

Mulder nodded and inhaled a deep angry breath through his nose, still glaring.

“Okay,” said Scully. “Good. Now get out of my way.”

She flung him aside with the strength that mothers use to lift crashed cars off their children, and sprang towards Malfoy, wildly swinging her fists and screaming war. “I’ll bleeping kill you, mother-bleeper!!”

Scully was just about to connect a mean left hook to Lucius’ jaw when Mulder grabbed her around the waist and yanked her away, still kicking and screaming. Only with the help of Harry, Hermione, and Ron could he restrain her. Finally she sat, exhausted and panting but still shooting her patented Ice Queen glares at Albino Douchebags Jr. and Sr.

Lucius shook his head. “Don’t be fools, Agents. You want to fight us, we’ll make it a proper wizard’s duel.”

Mulder’s eyes lit up at the mere idea of violence. “Oooh, Scully, didya hear that? A duel!”

“No, Mulder,” Scully said firmly, crossing her arms.

“But Scully-”

“No, Mulder.”

“Aw, come on-”

“No, Mulder.”

Ron laughed. “You are so whipped.”

“I am not whi-,” Mulder began to protest, but glanced at Scully, who smiled sweetly and tugged the proverbial leash. He turned back to Ron, sighed, and nodded.

“That’s okay,” said Ron sympathetically. “My mum has my dad whipped, too.”

Lucius tapped his foot impatiently. “Well, Agent Muggle, what’s the verdict?”

“Oh, I’m in,” said Mulder.

“But Agent Mulder, she said…” Harry cocked an eyebrow and indicated Scully, who rolled her eyes and shrugged.

Mulder waved a hand dismissively. “Trust me, this won’t be the first time I’ve blatantly disobeyed her orders not to do something stupid. Now all I have to do is get hurt and let her say ‘I told you so.’ Come on, Harry, let’s get this party started.”

“All right,” said Lucius. “Who’s your second?”

“You mean, like, my backup?”

“Yes. Someone to take over when- er, if- you die.”

Mulder scoffed, unimpressed. “Whatever. I’ve died twice already, amateur.”

Lucius ignored him. “My second is…” He looked hopefully at Snape, who gave him the death glare and the bird, and moved closer to Reyes. Lucius sighed. “Fine. Junior will be my second. Hurry up and choose yours.”

Mulder glanced at Scully, who was now seated nearby with William on her lap, contentedly reading a wizards’ magazine and munching on Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. Mulder frowned and asked Lucius, “What, may I ask, are the possible physical consequences of this duel?”

“Well, if the duel’s between two really bad or really dumb wizards, you might just get hit by sparks,” said Harry reassuringly.

“Too bad my father’s neither bad nor dumb,” sneered Malfoy. “I remember, one time back in second year, this really dumb kid got stuck belching up slugs for the rest of the day—”

“And in our fourth year this one bastard of a bloke got turned into a ferret,” Ron interrupted hastily.

“It can be worse, though,” said Hermione anxiously. “Really powerful wizards can cause serious pain and even kill—”

“I remember reading about this one bloke who came off worse in a duel, sometime around the turn of the century. The poor man was tripping over his own tongue for the rest of his life,” said Fred.

“Of course,” added George, “you can get the same effect with one of our ton-tongue toffees.”

Mulder stared at him, appalled, but finally shook the disturbing visuals from his head. “All righty then, buddy, thanks for the info,” he said with sarcastic cheer. “Well although a five-foot-long tongue could prove to be an interesting asset in the privacy of our own home, I think it’s probably best not to put the mother of my son in that kind of dangerous situation, because I’m the big macho guy and I need to protect my family and all… okay, Scully?”

Scully didn’t look up from her magazine. “Sure, fine, whatever, Mulder,” she said nonchalantly. “Do you still want me to save your ass when you inevitably need me, or should I just fix you when you’re dropped at my feet in nine pieces?”

“Funny, I said the same thing to Harry just last week,” said Hermione.

Mulder frowned. “Uh… the first one? Yeah. Thanks, baby.”

Scully looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. “Baby me and you’ll be-”

“I know, I know, I’ll be peeing through a catheter,” he interrupted impatiently. “You’re proud of that one, aren’t you? I’ve only heard that line four thousand times in fan fiction. Oh, excuse me. Four thousand and one.”

“I’m waiting,” said Lucius loudly.

“Oh, right. Harry’s my second,” said Mulder, clapping Harry on the back.

Lucius smirked. “This should be interesting. But we can’t forget to begin a wizard’s duel the proper way.”

“With a bow of respect?” Mulder guessed.

“With a lot of clever insults,” Harry corrected him. “Nobody bothers bowing anymore. Anyway, let’s get started, Mr. Malfoy. Why are you wearing a fur hat in the middle of May? It’s warm outside. Having a bad hair day, are you?”

Furious, Lucius whipped off his hat, revealing a very large black bow tying back his sweeping blond hair. Ron snorted with suppressed laughter.

“I’m surprised he’s even got enough hair to need a bow,” Ron said. “Didn’t they shave your head when you got thrown into prison?”

“Speaking of hair, Weasley,” said Draco, “would you tone yours down a few shades? I can practically feel my corneas fulminating.”

Mulder stood up straighter, wanting to join the insult-fest. “Yeah, well, you’re… you’re…” He paused. “Your mom sucks.”

This earned derisive snickers from friend and foe alike. “Good one, Mr. King-of-the-X-Fools,” Draco said sarcastically. “That hurts. Right here.” He tapped his heart with his extended middle finger.

“All right, all right,” said Lucius. “I’ve had enough verbal aggro now to last me a year. Let’s get started already!” He huddled briefly with his son.

Harry turned to Mulder and said, “I hope you’re a quick shot, because your gun’s going to be your only chance here. You’ll need to— ARGH!”

Mulder’s cry joined Harry’s, and together their screams echoed out of the Great Hall, past the borders of Hogwarts, and into the eternal heavens above.

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Without waiting for their opponents to get ready, the Malfoys had cast their spells. Mulder and Harry slumped to the ground and landed on their backs. Everybody watched them in nervous anticipation, until Harry’s voice rang out loud and clear…

“Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea, and frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-lee…”

Mulder joined in. “Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff, and brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff! OH!”

“A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys.”

“Painted wings and giants’ rings make way for other toys…”

Draco Malfoy was now doubled over in wild hysterical laughter. Doggett began to howl and scratched at his ears as if he’d like to go deaf.

“Sweet mother of Merlin, make it stop!” cried Ron, desperately.

Hermione leaned over to examine them. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Just a mild Confundus Charm. I can fix it, no problem.” She extended her wand, but Scully stopped her, grinning.

“Hold on, I just want to enjoy this a bit more…”

Mulder and Harry were now both sobbing, as they sang the last verse of that mournful ballad: “His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain. Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane…”

“Without his life-long friend, Puff could not be brave, so Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave.”

Scully nodded to Hermione. “Okay, go ahead. I don’t want to hear whatever song comes next-”

“Don’t tell my heart, my achy-breaky heart-”

“NO!!!”

Hermione hurriedly finished the spell. Harry and Mulder sat up, holding their heads and blinking.

“What— what happened?” asked Harry.

“Confundus charm,” Hermione told him.

“What does that mean? What was I doing?” said Mulder.

“Are you sure you really want to know?” asked Scully, biting back a grin.

“Well, sure I do. What happened to me?”

“Fine. You and Harry were out cold, and you started singing ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’—”

“We did not!” said Mulder and Harry in unison, both aghast.

“They didn’t just start singing it, they finished, too!” said Ron between hoots of laughter. “Harry, mate, I had no idea you knew all the words!”

Harry and Mulder groaned.

“Excuse me,” Lucius whined, “I’m waiting again. We are in the middle of a duel, you know.”

“How could I forget,” muttered Harry under his breath.

“Well? Come on, Agent Muggle, face me like a man,” challenged Lucius, straightening his bow. Mulder stepped forward.

“Look out, Fox Mulder, he’ll cane you!” cried Dobby the house-elf, from the sidelines.

“On the count of three, then,” said Lucius softly. “One. Two. Three!”

Mulder drew his gun with blinding speed, but Lucius had readied his wand at the count of ‘two’ and had already cried, “Expelliarmus!”

The gun flew out of Mulder’s hand and slid across the floor, quite out of reach. Mulder sighed. “I can think of about six hundred times I wish I could have done that.”

He looked apprehensively at Lucius, not wanting to know what would happen next. Behind him, Harry drew his wand with a sigh and started practicing wand movements in preparation.

“Petrificus totalus,” said Lucius lazily. Mulder froze and dropped to the ground.

“Wingardium leviosa.” Everyone cringed as Mulder flew into the air, crashed against the enchanted ceiling, and crashed back to the ground, over and over…

“Avada—­”

“Expelliarmus,” said Harry quickly, jumping forward. “Finite incantatem.”

Lucius’s wand flew from his hand and clattered to the floor. The spells lifted from Mulder, who fell twenty feet and landed in a crumpled heap of sore limbs. Groaning, he slowly crawled on all fours over to Scully, who had finally put down her magazine in favor of a luggage-sized first aid kit, miraculously taken from William’s diaper bag.

“I told you—” she began, stretching out a long strip of gauze and measuring it against his head.

“Don’t even start with me,” Mulder snapped, and pushed the bandage away as he sat down beside her.

“Fine!” Scully dumped William onto Mulder’s lap and stood up to join Harry in the duel.

“Good Lord,” Lucius said with soft amusement. “I’ve never duelled with someone who needed a third before.”

“What are you going to do to us? You don’t have your wand,” Harry pointed out.

“That’s right,” said Scully, heartened by this fact. “So who does your hair, girly-girl? Where’d you get that hairbow, your mother?”

Lucius’s lip curled; without warning he rushed at her, apparently trying to tackle her at the knees. Scully easily leaped over him, pinned him to the ground, and delivered a round of jaw-breaking punches.

“You gonna cry? You gonna squirt some, huh, big guy?” Scully taunted him, as Mulder and William cheered enthusiastically from the sidelines.

Meanwhile, Draco stepped forward, wand drawn, to challenge Harry. Harry blocked a series of hexes from Malfoy, promptly disarmed his opponent, and proceeded to knock him unconscious with a simple Stunning spell.

Finally, Scully released what was left of Lucius and stood up, clapping her hands clean. She gave him one more satisfying kick in the ribs, straightened her hair, and returned to her partner with a proud smile.

“Wow,” said Mulder, amazed and practically drooling at her. “You haven’t been this sexy since you donned laser-tag combat gear and saved me from a flintlock-packing prostitute in an army tank.” He turned to Ron. “Hey, do you know of any nice private spots where Scully and I might, uh, celebrate her victory?” He winked.

“Snogging or shagging?” asked Ron.

“Um, both, hopefully,” said Mulder.

“Um, neither, actually,” said Scully, giving Mulder a look that had the equivalent effect of a cold shower.

“Someone ought to clean these up,” said Sirius, nodding at the pair of insentient blonds on the floor. Together he and Remus conjured ropes to bind the Malfoys, and then tossed the bodies into a corner like sacks of potatoes.

“I’ve always wanted to do that, but my nice-guy persona has never allowed for it,” said Remus. “Thank Merlin for the fandom.”

Snape finally left Reyes’s side, and walked over to the corner where the Malfoys lay comatose. He removed Lucius’s black velvet hairbow and handed it to Monica, who affixed it to the top of Doggett’s head. Doggett growled.

Finally free of unwanted distractions, everybody sat down to resume lunch. Mulder cut the tip of his steak into tiny cubes, which he put on a plate and placed on the floor for Doggett to eat.

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The peaceful meal, however, was soon interrupted by the arrival of another unwelcome visitor. They were alerted to its presence when Doggett leapt to his tiny feet, twitching nose pointing at the corner where the Malfoys lay. A fat, grey rat was stealthily eating away at the ropes that bound Lucius.

Silence permeated the Great Hall… A split second later everybody (save Snape and Reyes, who were busy feeding each other peeled grapes and small bits of cheese) jumped up at once.

“KRYCEK!” shouted Mulder and Scully.

“YIP!” yipped Doggett.

“WORMTAIL!” bellowed everybody else.

The rat ceased its gnawing when it saw the group of a dozen people all running wildly at it, wands and guns extended, respectively. The Malfoys tried to wriggle in front of the crowd to give the rat time to escape, but succeeded only in getting trampled.

Sirius and Remus led the horde as it chased the rat all through the halls of Hogwarts. Various random students joined the mob as it passed, shouting and running with the others because it looked like fun. The rat, meanwhile, was squeaking in terror as it spritzed through the hallways as fast as it could go.

As they passed the marble staircase to the Gryffindor common room, Mulder spoke. “Scully, is it just me—”

“No,” said Scully, “I hear it too. That is unmistakably the Chariots of Fire theme song.”

At that moment, Doggett the toy poodle ran ahead of the crowd and snatched up the rat in his tiny jaws. He chewed it vengefully for a while and then swallowed it, wriggling tail and all.

“How’d he get so fast?” said Mulder. “He’s a bleeping poodle!”

“Well, we were all running in slow motion,” Scully pointed out. Indeed, even the Malfoys had managed to keep up with them, rolling along in their bindings.

Speaking of Wormtail/Krycek incarnate, something that looked like a distant shadow suddenly floated through the wall near them.

“Hello, Alex,” Ron said nonchalantly.

“Hey, Ron,” said the shadow. “Who’ve you got there?”

“Just some visitors,” Ron replied. “Come on over here, let me introduce you.” Ron turned to the group as the shadow began to float closer. “Agents, this is one of our newer ghosts. We call him Left-Armless Alex.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Mulder muttered, staring at the ghost of a familiar-looking man dressed all in black, with dark hair and eyes and an arrogant smirk on his face. “You just like to pop up all over the place, don’t you, Krycek? Or should I say, Left-Armless Alex?” He and Scully snickered.

“Oh, come on!” Krycek whined, recognizing his former adversaries and promptly throwing a tantrum. “This is so not fair! How’d they even get here, Harry?”

Harry frowned. “You know, I’ve been wondering that myself, actually.”

“Yeah,” said Hermione, “seeing as Muggles can’t get through to Platform 9 ¾ or use the Floo Network, either. And it says right in Hogwarts, a History that the school is protected by elaborate anti-Muggle charms, giving the entire castle and grounds the appearance of a dangerous ancient ruin.”

“Sure it’s impossible,” said Mulder cheerfully. “But seeing as how this entire fanfic relies upon the Hogwarts setting, why don’t we just ignore the blatant inaccuracy and just continue with this wonderfully humorous narrative?”

“Ignore the timeline, too?”

“Of course!” said Scully. “Who cares that you guys actually graduated three years before William was even born?”

“It’s okay with me,” said Harry, shrugging. “Anyway, you’re hardly one to talk about inaccuracies, Alex. Only wizards are supposed to become ghosts.”

“Yeah,” said Mulder with a grin. “Explain that one away, why don’t you?”

“Explain your whole bleeping mytharc, why don’t you?” Krycek snapped.

Mulder opened his mouth to retort, then glanced at Scully, who shrugged, stumped. He frowned and looked at his feet. “Okay, not sure about that one,” he mumbled. “But Chris Carter said he’d tell me when he figures it out.”

Krycek rolled his eyes. “Oh, I see. Good thing the show’s not over!” he said sarcastically. “You’d think if the truth were out there you might’ve found it by now-”

Mulder sighed. “All right, shut up, Ratboy. Go make yourself useful and get me a coffee.”

Ron cocked an eyebrow at them. “So… apparently you guys know each other?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Left-Armless Alex, glaring at them. “It seems I can never escape the heroic protagonism of Special Agent Fox Mulder, even when I’m frigging dead!”

“Trust me, Krycek, I wish you’d escaped to hell like I thought you did two years ago.”

“Now, Mulder, be nice to your evil dead slash lover,” Scully teased. Mulder and Krycek both rolled their eyes.

“You know, I have always regretted that kiss,” said Krycek. “If I had known that my symbolic display of camaraderie would become homosexuality in fandom, I would have just shot you.”

“I think I would have preferred that, actually,” said Mulder.

“See!” said Ron. “That’s what happens when unresolved sexual tension goes unchecked! After five or so years of...” he wagged a finger between Mulder and Scully, “...nothing, the slashers try to take over!”

“She’s had my bleeping baby!” said Mulder, irritated. “I think any sexual tension has been officially resolved!”

“Not between you and me, it hasn’t,” said Krycek, winking at him. Mulder buried his face in his hands, mortified.

“Come on, people, talk to me!” said Ron. “I’m the expert in unresolved sexual tension. It’s the story of my life!”

“Here we go again,” Hermione muttered, exasperated. “If sexual tension is there, Ron, it is unresolved, and it is going to STAY that way! So give up!”

“Wait a minute,” said Harry, frowning and turning to Hermione. “How do you know how long Ron’s willie is?”

“What?” said Hermione, caught off guard by the abrupt change of subject.

“Earlier today,” Harry reminded her, “you said at least—”

“Oh, yes. Well, if you must know—”

“What?”

“Oh, calm down, Harry! Do you really think I would ever sleep with Ron? As I was about to say...” Hermione paused for dramatic effect. “Malfoy told me.”

“Hey!” shouted Ron and Draco simultaneously.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” drawled Lucius from the corner. “The Dark Lord would have none of that from Draco, don’t you know He’s a homophobe?”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other uneasily.

“I wouldn’t waste my time on Weasley, anyway,” sneered Draco. “Though, speaking of Weasley… is anyone currently shagging Ginny?”

Ron scowled; Hermione looked around the room. “Nope. No one here, anyway.”

“Great. Let’s get married, Weasley.”

“Okay!” said Ginny, apparently pleased that she could stop dating around the entire school and finally could settle down for good (or for bad, whatever a marriage with Malfoy would bring). She bent down and untied Draco, who got to his feet.

“I can’t believe this,” hissed Lucius, still struggling in the corner. “A Malfoy marrying a Weasley? What is the world coming to?”

“Listen, Malfoy,” said Ron. “If you do anything to hurt my little sister—”

“You’ll have all six of her brothers out hunting you down,” said George.

“And once George and I get our hands on you, you’ll wish you’d never been born,” Fred added.

“Unless Percy got to you first. He’d just have you thrown in Azkaban.”

“Charlie wouldn’t waste much time, he’d just feed you to a dragon—”

“Draco,” Lucius interrupted loudly, “you’d better make a Death Eater out of her, or I’ll kill you myself. Do you hear me?”

“Sounds like I lose either way,” Draco said. “Oh, well. We’d better elope, Weasley, since we’re obviously not welcome here anymore.” He took Ginny by the arm and pulled her towards the doors in the Entrance Hall.

Scully watched the star-crossed lovers exit, shaking her head, then turned back to the smirking ghost.

“So what the bleep are you doing here, Krycek?” she asked. “I mean, this is a children’s school and you don’t exactly play well with others, do you?”

“I have unfinished business,” he replied mysteriously. When everyone just stared, perplexed, he laughed and added, “Just kidding. Bit of ghost humor. I’m really just here for haunting lessons from the pros. Nearly-Headless Nick has taken me under his wing, seeing as I’m sort of short one, myself.” He indicated the empty left sleeve of his leather jacket. “Eventually I’ll head back to America and spend my afterlife slowly driving Cancerman to madness and suicide.”

“I thought he was dead,” said Mulder.

“You thought I was dead,” Krycek retorted.

“Everybody thought you were dead,” said Scully.

“Everybody thought I was dead,” Mulder added.

“Everybody thought I was dead, too,” said Sirius.

“I’m not dead, either!” came the muffled voice of the rat, from inside Doggett’s belly.

“There’s a moral to this story,” said Remus, wisely. “There’s no such thing as death in fiction.”

“Especially during sweeps week and season finales,” Mulder added. “And whenever Scully’s around with her unlimited medical powers.”

“Anti-virals cure everything,” Scully told everyone, proudly. “I carry some with me at all times, just in case Mulder dies again or something.”

Mulder grinned and struck a pose. “Good as new. Not even a scar.”

Krycek scoffed. “Yeah, that’s convenient. Do you realize how ugly you’d be if you did scar? You’ve been burned, cut, beaten, infected with every virus known to both man and alien, electrocuted, shot, infested with insects, and prematurely aged. You’d look like… well, you’d look like your father.”

Scully shuddered. “That’s exactly why I have to make sure he doesn’t scar. William wouldn’t be here if his father had been that ugly.”

Leaving Left-Armless Alex behind, the group returned to the Great Hall to finish their lunch at last. Remus happily dragged Lucius behind him by a rope.

Everyone had just sat down when an odd noise from under the table prompted them to jump back to their feet. Ron bent down and pulled up the edge of the tablecloth. Gasps, laughter, and hysterical barking greeted the sight that awaited them.

Monica and Snape, who had lipstick all over his pallid face, were entangled in a rather compromising position. Doggett rushed forward and tugged frantically at the hem of Snape’s robes, as Monica crawled out from under the table. Blushing quite a bit, she wiped her lips and reached for her martini.

But before she could grab it, Remus stretched out a hand and snatched it away. He held it to his nose and sniffed it. “Does this smell strange to you?” He handed it to Sirius, who smelled the drink in turn.

“Doesn’t smell like any martini I’ve ever had, that’s for sure,” Sirius agreed.

“I knew it,” said Remus, dumping the drink on the floor. “I never would have put this past Snape—”

“What do you mean?” Scully asked.

Sirius was laughing uproariously behind his hands, but Remus took time to explain. “It seems Professor Snape was a little taken with Ms. Reyes, and so he spiked her martini with a Love Potion that he made himself.”

“Well, that explains it,” said Scully. “I was wondering why her standards for men had suddenly plummetted to... that.” She pointed at Snape, who glowered as he rolled out from under the table.

The mystery of Snape and Reyes’s behaviour solved, lunch resumed at last. As they ate, Mulder and Scully were observing Harry and Hermione.

They had approached the corner where Remus had dumped Lucius once again. Mulder and Scully couldn’t hear from all the way across the room, but it was clear from the fury on Lucius’s face that they were taunting him. Pushing off against the wall with his feet, Lucius lunged at Hermione’s legs and knocked her over; Harry promptly kicked him in the ribs just as Hermione shot another Stunning Spell at him. Harry pulled Hermione to her feet and together they walked back towards the table.

“Look at that, Scully,” said Mulder. “They depend on each other... they’re equal and strong and they respect each other. She’s got the brains and he’s got the brawn... now who does that remind me of?”

“I don’t know,” said Scully. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“But they’re definitely gonna get together later,” said Mulder.

“Oh, definitely. You can totally tell.”

“Even if it takes them seven years...”

Harry was now staring into Hermione’s corrugated cardboard-brown eyes, and Hermione into his zucchini-green ones. Simultaneously they nodded and started walking off.

“No secrets at the table, Harry,” said Sirius.

“Yeah,” said Ron, “would you mind sharing with the poor primitive people who still use the spoken word to communicate?”

Harry sighed in frustration. “Fine.”

“Remind me, Harry,” said Hermione. “How long have we known each other?”

“Seven years.”

“Right then, you heard the people. Let’s go snog.”

Hand in hand, Harry and Hermione left the Great Hall.

“Well that was easy,” said Scully. “I think we just resolved some sexual tension, Mulder. And it wasn’t even ours.”

“Our work here is done.”

“So it is,” said Professor McGonagall, who had just entered the Great Hall. “I’ve checked with Henry, and despite his age he insists that he hasn’t made a mistake in the records. He says he would know if he was simply having a senior moment, so, there you are. Therefore, Agents, your son is most definitely not a wizard.” She paused and looked at William, who was laughing and juggling empty plates without touching them. “He is just a very, very strange child.”

Scully sighed, discouraged. “Well then, I guess it’s back to our... other theories.” She glanced tiredly at Mulder.

“Cheer up, Scully,” he said, with a huge smile. “Having an alien baby is way cooler than having a wizard baby.” She rolled her eyes and slapped him hard on the arm.

Meanwhile, Doggett was whimpering pathetically and tugging as hard as he could on McGonagall’s robes. She looked down and wrinkled her nose.

“Look at the ears on that thing,” McGonagall remarked, then gasped in realization. “Oh! That’s you, Agent Doggett! I’d completely forgotten!”

Doggett’s entire body relaxed in relief, and he wagged his tail for the first time.

“I’m so sorry!” McGonagall continued. “Here, let me fix you-” She extended her wand towards him, but suddenly Mulder moved in between her and Doggett.

Scully frowned. “Mulder, really. The poor man has had enough torment for one day. Let the Professor change him back!”

“It’s not that,” said Mulder, looking uneasily at McGonagall’s wand. “I just think that for the sake of everyone, especially the young eyes present, Agent Dog might want to crawl into that suit over there before he becomes Agent Doggett.”

Doggett’s eyes went wide, then he all but teleported over to his pile of clothes, crawled back into the suit and shirt, and waited there patiently.

McGonagall waved her wand, and another jet of carnation-pink light snaked its way into the suit. A flash of light momentarily blinded everyone; when they looked again, John Doggett lay there, stunned and blinking, for a few moments before he slowly got to his feet and looked around. He straightened his suit, checked behind him for the presence of a tail, and, finding none, said in a voice that channelled Clint Eastwood, “Well I dunno about you guys, but I’m ready to go home. Gotta clean my gun and watch some more NASCAR.”

“In case you were, for some odd reason, questioning his manliness,” Mulder muttered sarcastically.

Reyes threw her arms around Doggett happily, and he smirked at Snape, who was standing nearby and now looking fairly grumpy.

“Miss me?” Doggett asked Reyes, and swiftly bent her over backwards as he kissed her. Reyes suddenly squirmed wildly in his arms and pushed him away, mumbling something about tasting like rat. “Sorry,” Doggett muttered, and wiped his mouth self-consciously.

“Sorry,” said the rat, and Doggett clutched his stomach in horror.

“That’s gotta be uncomfortable,” Ron commented.

“Oh, nothing a little rat poison won’t fix,” said Snape.

“John, I promise, we’re going to get you the best doctors,” said Reyes. “You can have your pick of gastroenterologists from the NYPD, the Marines, not to mention the standard Bureau...” She suddenly stopped and raised her eyebrows at his hair.

“Umm... you’ve got something... right there,” she said awkwardly, pointing at the black hairbow. Doggett reached up and ripped it from his head like it was burning him, then threw it on the ground and stomped on it until it was properly dead.

Snape laughed harshly, but quickly shut up when Doggett narrowed his eyes and stormed towards him. “And YOU!” he growled, pointing an angry finger at the professor, who raised an eyebrow. “What the hell did you think you were doing, drugging my partner with that... that...”

“Magical love potion?” Reyes filled in.

Doggett paused. “Monica, I’m sure it was just GHB or ergot or something-”

“It was NOT!” Snape protested.

“That’s not the point!” Doggett snapped. “The point is that you’re lucky I don’t find your face worthy to meet my fist, because if I can beat the bleep out of Arnold Schwarzenegger, imagine what I could do to you!” With that, he turned on his heels, grabbed Monica’s arm, and dragged her towards the door.

Monica leaned to whisper in his ear. “John, you never beat up Arnold Schwarzen-”

Doggett waved his hand dismissively. “The stupid bleep doesn’t even know who Arnold Schwarzenegger is.”

Mulder and Scully hastily collected their belongings, including their sleepy son, and hurried after them, murmuring thanks and apologies to McGonagall, Snape, Sirius, Remus, and the remaining students— Ron, Fred, and George.

“Monica!” Snape cried just before the doors closed behind the agents. “I’ll send you an owl, my love!

Sunday, June 20, 2003

8:32 PM

Back in their own time zone, the four agents took a stroll along the Potomac River, after a very generous meal at Denny’s. The bill was only nine dollars for all four of them, including drinks and dessert.

“Well that was an interesting trip,” said Doggett.

“In more ways than one,” said Reyes, alluding to her GHB/ergot/magical love potion escapades.

“Yeah,” said Scully. “Oh, and John, have you called a doctor about your... stomach problem?”

Doggett sighed. “Yeah, I have an appointment tomorrow. The procedure doesn’t sound pretty, though. I think they’re basically going to do a rat abortion.”

Everyone cringed.

“I’m pro-life!” the rat cried in desperation.

“Sorry, buddy,” said Doggett, patting his stomach. “My body, my choice.”

Reyes, shockingly enough, smiled. “So, what do you guys want to do now? Call it a feeling, but it seems too early to go home. I’m ready for a little more downtown fun...” She giggled, and Doggett could barely keep his eyes from rolling.

Mulder checked his watch. “Actually, guys, Scully and I have to go. We’re needed in some ten-year-old’s fluffy plotless shipperfic in ten minutes.” He cleared his throat and stared into Scully’s Cookie-Monster-blue eyes. “Scully we have been through so much together how could I not love you because you save me from myself and you help me find the truth that we both need so bad so will you marry me?” He paused and seemed to snap out of whatever brainless funk he was in. “How was that?”

“I think I’m going to vomit,” said Scully.

Mulder nodded, very pleased. “Good. Looks like we’re ready to go. Don’t forget, we’ve gotta pick up William at your mom’s place.”

Doggett frowned. “Will’s with your mother? Um, are you sure she’s gonna be okay?”

Scully nodded. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry, she always wears a helmet.”

“All right, guys, see you at work tomorrow,” Mulder called as he rushed Scully off towards the nearest cab.

Doggett looked at Reyes awkwardly. “Uh... maybe we should call it a night, too?”

“We can’t call it a night,” said Reyes, pouting. “We’re falling behind in the shipper races. We’ve got to practice our angst. In fact, I should probably be in a car-accident-induced coma right now.”

Doggett sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Ooookay,” he said tiredly, and offered his arm to Reyes. “Let’s get you some beer and put you behind the wheel, then.”

She took his arm cheerfully and they headed for the nearest bar. But suddenly Monica noticed something in the sky, circling overhead. She stopped walking and looked up curiously.

“Hey, is that an owl?”

Doggett followed her gaze and spotted what was, indeed, a spotted brown owl descending towards them. His eyes widened and he pulled his gun faster than Wyatt Earp, quickly shooting the poor bird dead. It hit the ground at Doggett’s feet, most of its feathers slowly floating down to join it.

Monica stared in horror at the decimated owl, which was not, in fact, holding a message. Doggett threw an arm around Monica’s waist and glared unremorsefully at the lifeless pile of bloody feathers.

“Do ya feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”