Title: The Getting of Magic
Fandom: X-Men First Class/Harry Potter
Written for:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
xmenbigbang
Characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Raven Darkholme, Moira MacTaggert, Albus Dumbledore, First Class ensemble, plus various X-Men comics and Harry Potter characters.
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 65,000
Content warnings: mentions of the Holocaust, Nazis, physical and emotional child abuse and period-appropriate language.
Author's Notes: Thanks to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
st_aurafina for an epic beta and to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
afrocurl for running the Big Bang comm and getting me to finish this fic!
With art bysunryder at AO3 or at tumblr.
Summary: It's September 1947 and Hogwarts is finally getting back to normal after the disruptions of the war against Grindelwald and the Muggle World War. Transfiguration teacher Albus Dumbledore has been searching for students who have missed out on starting at Hogwarts, such as Charles Xavier and his sister Raven who have been hiding in the US, and refugee Erik Lehnsherr. Grindelwald's supporters are still strong, though, and it's going to be a turbulent first year for Charles, Raven, Erik and their friends.
The wizard in the green and orange tartan suit strode boldly across the lawn. Charles and Raven watched from an upstairs window, waiting eagerly for him to be turned into a salt pillar, but instead, when the traps sprung, blue daisies appeared on the grass. The wizard wasn't scared at all, in fact, he was chuckling to himself. He seemed slightly taken aback when the pillars of the balustrades unwound themselves into giant stone snakes, and Raven snickered, but then the wizard waved his wand and the snakes turned around and slithered back to where they came from.
"He'll never make it past the front door, don't worry," Charles told Raven. There was no way they were going to be separated now, not after the last two years fighting it.
Unfortunately for Charles, the wizard didn't go to the front door; he levitated up to their window. Raven squeaked in terror and hid under the bed, but Charles drew his wand and prepared to fight. He was thirteen now, and that was considered an adult in many cultures.
"Good morning, Mr Xavier, Miss Darkholme!" The wizard seemed very chirpy for someone who was about to destroy their lives. "My name is Albus Dumbledore and now that Miss Darkholme has turned eleven, I've come to invite you both to Hogwarts. We start our students a year earlier than the Salem Witches' Institute."
"What?" Charles tried to read the man's surface thoughts, but all he could pick up was the taste of lemon sherbet. Charles's mouth watered slightly: he hadn't had that since they were last in England. "You mean, you're from the British school?"
Mr Dumbledore avoided the window's attempt to bite him and climbed over the sill. "Yes, my dear boy. I understand from the headmistress of the Salem Witches' Institute that you chose to be, what's the term, "home-schooled" rather than leave your sister?"
"Yeah!" Raven leapt out from under the bed, her skin a ferocious bright blue and her little white teeth bared.
"A metamorphmagus! How delightful!"
"See, I told you!" Charles was quickly distracted from the peril by his intellectual victory.
Raven stuck her tongue out. "You said they only show up in pureblood families, and that doesn't make any sense. Why would my parents be scared of me and give me to Muggles if they knew what I was?"
Mr Dumbledore sat down on the bed. "It's true that metamorphmagi are most common in so-called Pureblood families, but it's also true that the idea of blood purity is a fairly new one, in Wizarding terms. Perhaps only a thousand years or so. There's no reason to think you don't have Wizarding ancestors who were a metamorphmagi themselves."
"I like your beard," Raven interrupted, copying it. Even Charles had to admit it was a pretty spectacular beard, streaked with auburn curls, pale sandy bristles and great grey streaks.
Mr Dumbledore laughed and stroked the beard Raven had grown in imitation of his. "Excellent, my dear girl! I can see you're going to do very well in my classes. I teach Transfiguration."
"We haven't accepted yet!" Charles was indignant. It was true that the only reason he had forged the home-schooling papers was so that Raven wasn't left alone with Kurt and Cain, and Kurt at least was dead now. If he and Raven could go to the British school together, that would solve most of their problems. Still, Charles was wary.
"Indeed, indeed. What if I go downstairs and make us all some tea? The two of you can discuss what you would prefer to do."
Charles sighed. "Okay. Let me deactivate the interior defences, or the statues might eat you."
"You have a lovely home, Mr Xavier. You must be very proud."
Charles ducked into the hallway and said the code-word to the portrait of the ancestor who had built the house in the early 1700s, then went back to check Mr Dumbledore hadn't made off with Raven in the meantime.
They were sitting on the bed comparing beards. Raven made hers bright purple, then Mr Dumbledore countered by waving his wand and putting beribboned plaits in his, decorated with tiny twinkling beads; Raven upped the ante with a magnificent forked and twirled creation that covered most of her torso.
"The defences are deactivated, as long as you don't try to leave the house or go to the basement," Charles announced, and had to stifle a giggle when Dumbledore turned around with his beard transformed into a pair of battling blue hedgehogs sculpted entirely out of hair.
"Wow!" Raven shrieked, then, "Thank you for showing me some beard tricks, Mr Dumbledore."
"You're very welcome, my dear. I shall get on with the tea."
Carefully checking that Mr Dumbledore hadn't left anything behind to spy on them, Charles plopped down next to Raven.
"What do you think? The Salem Witches Institute won't take you until you're twelve, and I don't know if I can get away with the homeschooling story now that Mother and Kurt are both dead."
"Maybe it will be nice to go where people don't know us? I mean, they all suck up to you so much here."
"Only because they want to marry me and get all my money." Charles made a face. "I'm not marrying anyone."
"Mr Dumbledore loved my morphing. He didn't tell me to stop it like Mother and Kurt did."
"Mother wanted you to look pretty for her friends. And Kurt only cared if you didn't stay out of his way."
Raven morphed into her frequently-used blonde-haired, pink-cheeked form. "I do look pretty this way."
"But you look amazing when you're blue. We can ask Mr Dumbledore what other metamorphmagi do at Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts is a cool name. I hope they have hogs there. With warts."
"Raven! Don't be revolting. So we're decided, then?"
Raven kicked Charles in the shin. "Yeah, but…" she lowered her voice. "What about Cain? Do you think we should tell Mr Dumbledore about him?"
"No! It was an accident and he deserved it anyway. He was trying to throw you off the balcony!"
"Yeah…but I would feel bad for him if he had to be here all alone. I read comics to him, sometimes. When I don't hate him so much."
Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe Mr Dumbledore can change him back? Once we're gone? I know he was only copying what Kurt did to him, but he's not allowed to hurt you! No-one is."
Raven hugged Charles hard enough to make his breath huff out, and pressed her hard head on him. "Thank you! You're the best brother! Cain is a meanie, but we can't leave him for the birds to poop on."
They joined hands and ran downstairs to find Mr Dumbledore. To their horror, he was sitting at the kitchen table pouring a cup of tea for Cain. Cain appeared somewhat confused and covered in dust, but he definitely wasn't made out of stone anymore.
"What did you do?" Charles shouted, but Mr Dumbledore didn't seem in the least perturbed.
"Ah, Charles, I was explaining to young Mr Marko the theory of accidental magic in underage wizards and witches. Would you like to hear about it?"
"No," he muttered mulishly, even though he did want to know.
"The reason that we start school about the ages of 10 to 12, or formal apprenticeships in the case of some families, is that this is the age where magic has built up to a sufficient extent that it may accidentally discharge in times of emotional distress."
"Is that how Charles turned Cain into a statue?" Raven inquired.
"What?" Cain blinked. "Last thing I remember I was, uh, talking to Raven on the balcony and now it's summer."
"Don't tell him, Raven!"
Mr Dumbledore sipped at his tea. "An excellent brew, yes. Your mother had superb taste in tea. Yes, Mr Marko, you have spent three months as a statue. This was entirely out of Mr Xavier's control, however, so you must not hold a grudge."
Both Charles and Raven looked askance at Mr Dumbledore at that: Cain was a champion grudge-holder.
"How can Charlie do something like that? Did he learn it out of a spellbook?"
Mr Dumbledore smiled. "While Charles is a fine example of an auto-didact, he certainly doesn't have the power or skill for that kind of transformation yet. Just as you don't have the ability to consciously make yourself stronger and more durable, Mr Marko."
"Dad was wrong? I'm not a squib?" Cain looked down at his hands, one still wrapped in a bandage from the potion laboratory fire, and Charles almost felt sorry for him.
Looking directly at Charles, Mr Dumbledore spoke inside Charles's head. "I have made the same offer to Mr Marko as I have made to you and to Miss Darkholme."
"That's not fair!" Charles found it easy to communicate with him, and it was much more precise than he'd ever managed before. "He's a bully and he hurt Raven!"
"And you, I believe. Mr Xavier, you are an intelligent boy but you have been terribly isolated in this house, and your mind is not open to alternate solutions to your problems."
"What do you mean?"
"Mr Marko is a bully, yes, but that's because that's all he's experienced. He truly believes that if he doesn't hurt someone first, they will hurt him. If we leave him in the same environment, he will never learn any other way to behave. A thirteen-year-old bully is harmful enough, but an adult bully can do a great deal more damage. Suppose one day he gets married? Has children of his own?"
Charles frowned. "You think that going to Hogwarts will let him see other ways to live?"
"Indeed I do. As would the Salem Witches Institute, though I hesitate to keep the two of you together then send him off alone. It will seem like punishment to him."
"But he isn't even nice to us!"
"Of course not, he can only see bullies and the bullied. He's jealous and frightened by the way he can physically hurt you and yet you don't give in to him."
"Oh." Charles considered that for a moment. "So if he goes somewhere else, you think he'll think where I go is better? And then he won't learn anything."
"You are a very astute young man, Mr Xavier."
"Okay then. But if he hurts Raven I'll turn him into a statue again!"
"If he hurts Raven, he will be punished according to the rules of the school. You won't be the only person responsible for his conduct anymore."
That was a tremendous relief, even though Charles had never thought about it that way before. "Okay, then. He can come too."
"Wonderful!" Mr Dumbledore said out loud, startling everyone. "I have a few more calls to make on my American adventure before we return to England, but I'm sure you'd rather come with me that stay in this big empty house. Boys, I'll show you a most delightful suitcase packing spell. Miss Darkholme, I see you don't have a wand yet, but I would be happy to assist you personally."
Cain glanced over at Charles, as if waiting for approval, and Charles realised with a shudder that that was exactly what Cain had been doing since his father passed away: waiting for someone to bully him into doing things.
Instead of turning away, he put on a bright smile. "Come on, Cain! I want to learn this spell. I suppose we'll need uniforms and textbooks and things, but we can get those when we get to England. And a wand for Raven."
"Hooray!" Raven clapped her hands. She'd tried using Mother's wand since she'd passed away, but it was really not comfortable in her hand, and she'd never been able to make it do anything, so she had given up. Cain had his father's wand, so no matter how many times Charles promised they'd find Raven a better one, he knew she was feeling left out and worried about her place in the family.
Mr Dumbledore had their suitcases packed in a great flurry of activity. Charles and Cain couldn't really perform the spell, if Charles was being quite honest, but Cain managed to get his suitcase to flop open and Charles managed to get a pair of pyjamas to fold itself up, and using magic in such a deliberate way felt wonderful. Mr Dumbledore did most of the packing himself, really, while Raven danced about in excitement. Charles' case ended up twice the size of Cain's or Raven's simply because of the number of books that the spell apparently thought he would need.
"I could leave some in the library," he said dubiously, but Mr Dumbledore shook his head.
"The spell says that you feel you need them, and who are we to argue with that? Diminuendo!" At his command the cases shrunk to the size of a cigarette pack, and the three children could easily pick them up.
"Okay, that was cool," Cain said. He hadn't argued with Mr Dumbledore telling him that he was coming to Hogwarts. He was unusually quiet, really. Charles put it down to shock and having been a statue for three months.
Raven peered at Cain's bandaged hand. "Does that still hurt? Charles got a burn on his leg and he had to put cream on it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Mr Dumbledore, can you help him?"
Mr Dumbledore took Cain's hand in his. "Hmm. I certainly can't do as much as a fully trained Mediwizard, but I can ease the pain somewhat." He traced his wand over the burn. "There. Now, come along! We have to rescue a little boy from prison!"
Raven, Cain and Charles all stared at each other for a long moment.
"Are we really going with him?" Cain asked.
"I like him!"
Charles nodded. "I'll set the house defences when we go so that no-one will get in and it will stay clean. I suppose we'll return for holidays and things, or maybe they'll make us stay with an adult."
"We don't have any relatives left, and Raven never had any."
"I didn't want them anyway!"
"Cain, don't tease Raven. I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe we can pay someone?"
They all suddenly found themselves floating through the air and down the staircase. Charles and Raven giggled, but Cain didn't seem pleased to be controlled by someone else.
"This is a delightful fireplace, but I have no time to waste admiring it!" Dumbledore called out, and floated them all down to the hearth in front of the Floo-connected library fireplace. They'd run out of Floo powder weeks ago, but Dumbledore seemed to have some of his own in a little pouch encrusted with gold and silver embroidery of prancing unicorns. After a moment, Charles realised that they were in fact prancing, in motion around an endless circle.
"Black Eagle residence, Colorado!" Dumbledore called out, throwing the powder in the fire. Grabbing Cain's hand – and encouraging the other two to copy him – they all leapt in together.
They emerged from a burning pit of fire somewhere much colder than New York, dumped onto the warm stones that surrounded it. The formerly blue sky had clouds piling up in the distance, and the air felt thin. They were in the yard of a small wooden house.
"Albus!" A tall Indian man shook hands with Mr Dumbledore.
"Good to see you, Bill. These are my new students, Cain, Charles and Raven, from New York. Children, this is William Black Eagle, a dear friend of mine."
Bill nodded at them, then turned back to Mr Dumbledore. "I've found the location of the boy you were looking for. He's in a secure Muggle facility in Omaha, Nebraska."
"Ah, so it wasn't wizards after him?"
"No, no sign of that at all. If we hadn't lost so many people in the war we would have been right on to this one. Under normal circumstances we would have had him weeks ago, before this became a major problem."
"Yes, that's the case everywhere. The Muggle-borns have been falling through the cracks terribly."
Charles spoke up. "Do you mean there's children out there who don't even know they're wizards or witches? And they're performing accidental magic?"
"Indeed, Mr Xavier. And all the schools have lost staff recently, meaning there's very few of us to find them."
"But why are you here, then, not in England? There must be Muggle-borns in England, too."
"Indeed there are, but Hogwarts has long had magical detections in place for all wizarding children living within the borders of Britain and Ireland, as Beauxbatons does in France and the Low Countries. Not all schools have been so fortunate and I have spent this summer travelling about to assist them in tracking down missing students."
"America's pretty big," Raven warned him.
"I've found a dozen students already, my dear, and have just one more to go before we head to Scotland."
"Did any of them decide to go to Hogwarts?" Cain asked.
"One, yes. The boy we're tracking down today, Mr Summers, might also be coming along, as I believe he will be more comfortable out of the country."
"There's food on the table inside," Mr Black Eagle told them. "We shouldn't be more than an hour."
"We can't go?" Charles asked, though he didn't know if he actually wanted to go and find a boy in a "secure facility".
"Go, eat, check your requirement list for Hogwarts!" Mr Dumbledore made a parchment appear in Cain's hand, then he and Mr Black Eagle vanished with the bright pop of Apparation.
Cain shrugged. "I don't know what kind of Indian food we're supposed to eat, but it's cold out here. Let's go in."
Indian food turned out to be a jug of lemonade and a plate of sandwiches, much to their surprise. Charles had been looking forward to eating pemmican or rattlesnake or something from a Wild West movie, but the sandwiches were excellent.
They all read the long scroll of school requirements as they ate.
"Oh, look, Transfiguration! That's Mr Dumbledore's class!" Raven was thrilled and Charles couldn't blame her.
Their mother, despite being a witch herself, had been very unhappy that Charles had brought Raven into the family, even though there was nothing she could do about it. Charles had written Raven into the family Bible before telling anyone about her, and that particular family tree carried magical obligation. She never realised that Charles knew that perfectly well and that was why he'd done it.
Cain was a lot less pleased by all the textbooks they had to buy. "I haven't been to school since we were living in Albuquerque. I've probably forgotten everything."
"Firstly, this will all be new to everyone, and secondly, they'll mostly be Raven's age if they're British. Mr Dumbledore – well, I suppose we should call him Professor Dumbledore – said they were automatically found at the right age if they were inside the range of the spell. You and I will have an age advantage, Cain."
Cain's face lit up at the idea of being older than everyone else and Charles rather wished he hadn't mentioned it. Still, there would be students in higher year levels and also teachers to keep him away from the younger kids. And Cain wasn't a squib, after all. Maybe he'd be less angry now. He'd never managed even the most basic of tests his father set, but Dumbledore had got him to magically open a suitcase in ten minutes flat. Still, Charles imagined that if Kurt was constantly shouting at him, he wouldn't have concentrated very well, either. It wasn't that Kurt hadn't hit Charles – or Raven, or their mother – but that his attacks on them were irregular and always followed by apologies and presents. His attacks on Cain were constant and ugly, and Cain never received an apology, not even when Kurt broke his wrist. Maybe Professor Dumbledore was correct and Cain needed to see more kinds of people.
"It's still a few days until the start of term," Charles told the others, looking at the dates on the scroll. "Even counting travel time, we should have at least a day to shop in London. The Wizarding street there is called Diagon Alley."
"Have you been there?" Raven asked, excited.
"Yes, with Mother. She was showing Father about the Wizarding World. She always said he tried to analyse everything in Muggle scientific terms. I can't remember that much – I was only six – but there were wonderful ice creams and a huge bookshop. There's a good wand shop, too, Ollivander's. If we don't get to Singer's in New York, we should go there for your wand, Raven."
"Oh, I really want one! Are you going to get a new one, or stick with what you've got?"
"My dad got a new wand, one time," Cain stated, unexpectedly. "His old one got destroyed in the accident that killed your dad."
The boys were silent for a moment, but Raven piped up. "What was Singer's like? Were there a million wands there?"
"I dunno about a million, but lots, yeah. The witch who made them asked him lots of questions about his old wand and then gave him some to try."
"Maybe we should do that?" Charles mused. "Then we can see if the wands we inherited are the best ones for us or if we should get a new one?"
"I'm not giving up my dad's wand!" Cain bellowed, and Raven and Charles both flinched. Charles had no idea why Cain was so attached to Kurt Marko: he'd treated Cain far worse than he had Charles or Raven, and their hatred for him was tempered only by knowing that he'd died saving both Cain and Charles from his burning laboratory.
Professor Dumbledore walked in, as casual as if he'd just popped outside for a walk. "Hello again! Those sandwiches look delicious. If you come outside quickly, you'll see something terribly exciting!" He hurried out and the three children dashed after him.
Outside, Mr Black Eagle had quickly drawn a circle of symbols enclosing a short, solid blond boy about Raven's age, who was glowing faintly red and looked very distressed.
"Is he cursed?" Raven whispered to Charles.
"I don't know! I think they're going to help him."
Professor Dumbledore gazed up into the sky. "All clear!"
Mr Black Eagle waved his hand – he had a small, leather-wrapped bundle in it rather than a wand – and the symbols on the ground floated into the air, spinning in the air above the boy, who was clenching his teeth.
"Whenever you're ready, Alex," he said.
Alex screwed his face up as if he was about to cry, but instead red glowing rings appeared in front of his chest. They swung around and around then flew off in all directions. As each burst of energy hit the ring of symbols, it instantly changed direction and zapped straight up into the air like a great burst of fireworks. When the rings were gone, Alex collapsed to his knees.
Charles started to hurry over to him, but Professor Dumbledore held out a cautionary hand.
"Give Mr Summers a chance to cool off. He's had a difficult afternoon and built up quite a charge."
"Is it underage magic, the same as Cain and me?" Charles asked.
"Yes indeed. Mr Summers has a great deal of potential if he can learn to focus." Dumbledore turned his wide grin on Charles. "And that's exactly what Hogwarts will help him to do."
Glancing over to see that Cain wasn't close by – he was over watching the ground near Alex steam – Charles leaned close to Dumbledore. "Are you sure going to Hogwarts is the right thing for Cain? He gets so angry…"
"Are you sure he should be close to you and your sister, I presume you mean?
"Um, yes, that's what I mean."
"Hogwarts is for the benefit of all Wizarding children, not only those who someone might consider worthy. We've had students who make Mr Marko look like Shirley Temple."
Charles was most alarmed by this: he hadn't thought that Professor Dumbledore's policies might lead to living with people more dangerous than Cain. "Oh. Is it safe there?"
"Oh, no, absolutely not. For one thing, there's the giant squid. Then there's the ghosts, the evil paintings, the Splinching Gallery…Where's your sense of adventure, Mr Xavier?"
"Safely at home!"
"Where you control the environment. I see. Perhaps Mr Marko isn't the only one who will benefit from mingling with his peers."
"Maybe I don't want to go!" Charles was not so quiet now.
"You've already accepted, Mr Xavier. You can't rescind your acceptance now." Dumbledore's eyes still twinkled, but his mouth was a thin line. "Hogwarts is an amazing place where you will learn a great deal about magic and about yourself. But it is not, and never will be, safe."
"What if I don't want adventure?"
"Then I advise you keep your head down, work hard, and keep a close eye on your sister."
Charles sighed. The Professor was right. Raven was going to find trouble no matter where she went. It might as well be somewhere where people didn't think she was either a monster, or just plain ugly. "Okay. What form will we be in? Raven will be in First Form, I suppose, but what about Cain and I?"
"As your home-schooling record was in fact false, you'll be in the same year as both Mr Marko and Miss Darkholme." Dumbledore chortled at the expression on Charles' face. "Oh, no need to worry, my dear boy. The wars in Europe have disrupted many students' schooling. You won't be the oldest in the year. And, of course, if you're doing well in your regular studies, we can assign extra studies to catch you up to your age group."
"Oh good!" Charles was most relieved. He had briefly entertained a vision of himself and Cain sitting awkwardly in a classroom full of Raven-sized younger children. He could happily replace that with a vision of himself doing Cain and Raven's homework while they paid him back with the kinds of Wizarding sweets he fondly remembered from his time in England.
Raven was helping Alex Summers up – the magical energy had knocked him over – and brushing off his clothes. He was dressed in a white shirt and grey pants so cheap and heavily starched that they sat stiffly on his frame as if he was dressed in cardboard clothes.
"Hi! I'm Raven! That's my brother Charles, and this is my step-brother Cain, and they did accidental magic too! I haven't yet, but I'm a metamorphmagus so maybe I have enough magic already!"
"You're a what?" Alex said, rudely.
"It means I can change my shape!"
Charles tried to warn her mind-to-mind as they could sometimes do, but Raven didn't seem to be receptive right now. She changed to her blue form, which was quite striking against her pink dress, and Alex shrieked and jumped backwards. Fortunately, Mr Black Eagle was there and put a big hand on Alex's shoulder.
"You're going to be seeing a lot of things you don't immediately understand, Alex. Just as people didn't understand what you could do."
Alex had the good grace to blush and duck his head, though he still kept a wary eye on her. "Uh, I'm sorry? I was surprised."
Raven's lower lip stopped trembling and she grinned again. "Okay, great! I'm pretty surprising, I know."
"What were those energy beams?" Cain asked, curiously. Today Charles had heard him talk more than he usually did in a week.
"They're the way magic spills out of Alex," Mr Black Eagle told him. "Albus said that you had a similar experience, but by making yourself stronger."
"That's cool," Alex said, "Wish I could do that."
"I didn't do it on purpose."
Professor Dumbledore stepped forward and handed a tiny suitcase to Alex. "You don't look very comfortable, Alex. Why don't you find something in there that fits you a little better? Get changed, then we can all go to Halifax."
"Halifax, Canada?" Charles' eyes were wide. He'd never been to Canada, and for some reason he had the idea that Floo powder only worked inside a country. If Muggles could organise international airline flights, surely Wizards could organise an international Floo system!
Alex appeared deeply suspicious, but took the miniature suitcase into the house with him. A few moments later, he returned dressed in sturdy denim pants, sneakers, and a blue-and-white checked shirt. He still held himself quite stiffly, though, as if he expected the other clothes to reappear at any moment.
"Thank you for the sandwiches, Mr Black Eagle," Charles said politely.
"Thank you!" Raven joined in as Professor Dumbledore threw a handful of Floo powder into the firepit. Alex stared at it in horror, but Charles took him by the arm.
"Don't worry. It's not going to hurt you. This is one way that wizards travel."
"I'm not getting in any damn fire!" Alex cursed, despite seeing Dumbledore wade into it, completely unharmed.
"Look, I'll put my arm in and you'll see," Charles told him, and waved a hand into the flames that were currently a portal. Before he knew it, he'd leaned a little far and both he and Alex were thrown through with that confusing whooshing feeling that Floo travel always gave, and a moment later they were stumbling out of a large brick fireplace in a large hall furnished with plush red and blue armchairs and couches. A large wooden sign declared
ARRIVAL HALL
DEPARTURE HALL
WELCOME TO HALIFAX
"Welcome, travellers!" A witch in tartan robes – not as blinding as Dumbledore's, fortunately – waved them forward to join the rest of their group. Alex clung to Charles' arm in intense confusion, but as soon as he saw Cain and Raven standing next to Dumbledore, he released Charles and smoothed down the arm of his own shirt to cover up that he'd ever been clingy or afraid.
"Good, good," Dumbledore declared, herding them all together. "Now, I have a little business to conduct, and the next Trans-Atlantic Portkey won't be ready for some hours." He pressed a golden Doubloon into Cain's hand. "Buy yourselves some dinner and be here on the Departure Deck by ten. Is that enough North American money? I'm terrible at arithmetic."
"Uh, yes, that's plenty." Cain seemed terribly surprised to be given the responsibility, but Dumbledore traipsed off without a backwards glance, leaving the four children standing and staring after him.
"You look a little lost, my dears," the tartan-clad witch told them, pulling a small scroll from a pouch at her belt. "Here's a map of the terminal – don't worry, there's plenty of places for you to wait. The long-distance departure deck is right over there, near where you came in." She pointed to a row of fireplaces and benches with brass spheres on them, though most people were getting in and out of the fireplaces. "Now, set your watches to local time!" She waved her wand, and Charles and Cain were both startled to see their watches spin forward an hour. It had still been light in Colorado, but it was seven in the evening here.
"Thank you," Charles replied, manners always in place even when he was utterly confused.
Alex grabbed the map out of his hand and blinked in surprise at the glowing dot that indicated their position. "Okay. If we're here, we have to go that way to the travellers' amenities. There's pictures of food floating all over this bit, so I guess we should go there."
They walked close together to avoid being separated by the crowds. It wasn't constantly busy, but there were waves of people coming and going and each wave flooded through the grand doorways with some force. Other people seemed to be there to shop or dine out, wandering around without haste or direction. Outside the arrival hall, there was a long shopping arcade with a glass roof. There was faint tinkly music in the air and the colours of the glass roof rippled slowly in time to it, casting a warm light over the shoppers, diners and travellers in the arcade.
"Do you think they'll let us in without a grown-up?" Raven worried.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have left us otherwise." Charles tried to sound confident, but he wasn't really sure about that at all. He seemed to be a very eccentric man indeed.
Alex seemed to have recovered from his trip through the Floo network. "This is pretty cool! And if they ask us why we don't have an adult with us, we can say we're waiting for our teacher. It's true, isn't it?"
Charles had to admit this was a good plan, and one that he and Raven had used before, after Kurt had died and the Muggle servants had stopped showing up. The house in England where their mother had grown up had had a house elf who took care of everything, but there weren't any of those in America. Charles and his father had once visited a house that had a brownie imported from Scotland, but that wasn't the same thing at all.
Cain led them into a restaurant that advertised "Best Prairie Pancakes" on a sign held by a mermaid. Charles was a little confused by the juxtaposition, but everyone else eagerly hurried in and he was pulled along with the group.
A lantern appeared in front of them and bobbed politely, as if it was bowing in mid-air. It moved away from them slightly then waited until they followed. Raven worked out what it wanted first and scrambled after it; they ended up at a booth with four places set. They all shuffled in – Charles next to Cain, Raven beside Alex – and writing scrolled around the edges of their plates.
PRAIRIE STYLE PANCAKES
CHOOSE YOUR FLAVOUR
"What flavours are there?" Raven asked out loud.
WHATEVER YOU DESIRE
"Ooh! Please may I have, um, strawberry and grape and, um ice cream?" Raven defiantly ignored Charles' stern look from across the table. To be honest, he thought that sounded rather nice, but Raven should probably eat a good meal. The pancakes appeared in front of her immediately, a steaming stack of bright purple pancakes and fruit with ice cream rapidly melting on the top. It was vanilla chocolate chip, her favourite.
"Me next!" Alex yelled. "Bubble gum, fried onions and hotdog!"
"That's revolting," Charles said, but it appeared in front of Alex anyway. The pancakes were full of sausage chunks but there was a distinct whiff of bubble gum coming from them. On closer inspection, there were pink and yellow swirls through the pancakes beneath the piles of fried onions.
Cain spoke up. "Texas chili, beef and beans."
"That's more sensible!" Charles felt quite exasperated by the others. At least Cain was asking for a proper meal. "And I'll have bacon and eggs. And tomato, please."
"That's breakfast food!" Raven was delighted by Charles' choice, even though Charles had only been trying to think of something he tasty on pancakes that would also make a good dinner.
"Maybe it's breakfast time in England," Charles shrugged.
Raven and Alex both laughed with their mouths open, displaying their vividly coloured chewed-up pancakes.
Charles stabbed his bacon. "I can't believe we have to be in the same year level as you."
"We do?" Cain looked horrified.
"Yeah, Professor Dumbledore said there's lots of older kids starting this year because of the war, though. It's not just us."
"Huh, I still can't believe I have to share with you, freak." He pointed his fork at Raven.
"Shut up, Cain," Raven growled. "We're not at home now. You can't push me down the stairs."
Charles desperately wanted Raven to be quiet and not cause trouble, but it was Alex who acted. He flicked a fried onion at Cain with tremendous accuracy, hitting him right on the end of the nose. Distracted, Cain swatted it away, his face turning as red as his hair and his attention turning to Alex.
"Yeah, don't try it. I've been to jail," Alex growled. "You hit me and I'll stab you."
"Really?" Charles and Cain chorused together, while Raven said, "That's cool!"
"Raven, that is not cool!" Charles snapped.
Alex shrugged, nonchalant, and Charles had to wonder if this was why Dumbledore had to recruit him for Hogwarts instead of sending him to one of the American schools. If so, he was starting to think Hogwarts must be as peculiar as its name implied.
"Hey, what's that kid doing?" Raven pointed to a tall boy with thick glasses who had wandered into the pancake restaurant. He was ignoring the helpful waiter lantern and paying close attention to something held in his palm.
"I think he's coming over here," Charles frowned. Everyone craned their necks to see the boy – who was also carrying a small suitcase – and he noticed them watching.
The boy shuffled awkwardly but didn't greet them. Instead he referred to whatever was in his hand before sighing audibly and trudging over to their table.
"Hi, uh, I'm Hank McCoy. Professor Dumbledore gave me this to find you." He held out his hand, where a small tin compass pointed at their table.
Alex gave him a suspicious glare. "How do we know that the compass points at us?"
Hank put down his suitcase, took a few steps backward and turned to the right, holding out the little compass so that Alex and the others could see it. Indeed, the needle swung back towards them, regardless of the direction Hank was facing.
Hank put it in his pocket and returned to the table. "I've been wondering about it, too. Professor Dumbledore brought me to the arrivals hall and then an owl was bothering him, so he gave me the compass and told me to find you. It seemed he was in a hurry."
Alex and Raven wriggled over so that Hank could sit with the two of them.
Charles leaned forward. "Are you going to school too? How old are you?"
"Yes, yes I am. I'm twelve." Charles was surprised at this – Hank wasn't as big as Cain, who was thirteen, but Cain was almost adult-sized, which meant Hank was pretty tall, too.
"You can't go to the Salem Witches' Institute?" Raven asked, with some interest.
"I thought 'witch' referred to female wizards?"
"Yes, dummy, but it's been co-ed for a hundred years now. Charles was going to go there but he stayed home to look after me."
"Your brother took care of you?"
"Our parents are dead, actually," Raven told him, quite cheerfully, but Hank looked terribly embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"
"Mine are, too," Alex chimed in. "I don't care, though. So if your parents aren't dead, why are you coming to this crazy school in Scotland?"
"I received a letter from the Salem Witches Institute, but I didn't believe it. I mean, there's no evidence that magic exists, is there? A few more letters came after I threw out the first one, and eventually I replied to say I wasn't interested, and the letters stopped."
"So Professor Dumbledore came to get you?"
Hank turned a fascinating shade of deep red, almost purple, and his voice turned squeaky. "Yes. I suppose they want me to go to school somewhere."
Raven didn't seem to notice Hank's strangled reply, and chattered on. "Oh, because your parents aren't wizards? Mine probably weren't either, and they threw me out and I ran away from the orphanage and Charles found me and then I was adopted and now he's my brother."
Hank seemed relieved at her interruption. "I see. My parents didn't throw me out, but they didn't really understand my science experiments and I think they put magic in the same category. I'm sorry to hear you lost both your parents."
"Four parents." Cain's voice was flat. "Charles's dad died, then he adopted Raven, then my mom died in a car crash, then their mom married my dad. Then their mom died and my dad died too."
Hank paled at this. "Do all wizards tend to die violently?"
"Oh, no, don't worry!" Charles was quick to calm him. "My dad and Cain's dad worked together in potion development, and that's a very dangerous field. Cain's mom was a Muggle, so it was a regular car crash, and my mom was sick for a long time. Most wizards live a long time, though."
"I'm glad to hear that! Though potions development does sound rather interesting. Can anyone make a potion, or only wizards?"
"I don't know?" Charles had never thought about that before, and neither had anyone else, from the blank looks.
They were distracted by a plate appearing in front of Hank, and the other plates vanishing in favour of dessert bowls.
"Pick whatever you want!" Raven leaned across Alex so she wouldn't miss what he chose.
When Hank was happily eating his cinnamon, honey and banana pancakes, everyone else dug into assorted flavours of ice cream: Charles had gone so far as to make up liquorice all-sorts flavour, which was really tasty.
As their spoons scraped the bottoms of the bowls, Professor Dumbledore ambled up to their table. He had a small, frightened-looking Negro girl in tow.
"Oh good, another girl!" Raven climbed right over Alex and Hank before Charles could stop her, and jumped down from the booth to greet the newcomer.
"Hello! I'm Raven Darkholme, what's your name?"
"Angel," she said, very quietly. On closer inspection, she had a black eye, a large but closed cut on her bottom lip and a hank of her fluffy hair missing, as if someone had hit her in the face a few times then grabbed her by the hair. Her checked green and white dress was torn across her shoulderblades and barely staying in place. She was sticking very close to Professor Dumbledore.
"This is Angel Salvadore, children. She will be accompanying us to Hogwarts. Miss Darkholme, would you be so kind as to take Miss Salvadore to the facilities and help her find something comfortable to wear?" He handed Raven a tiny suitcase, and she nodded, serious about her new responsibility. It took her a few tugs of the hand to dislodge Angel from Professor Dumbledore's side, but she managed it with a smile, and the two girls went off together.
"Is she all right?" Charles asked, as soon as the girls were out of earshot.
Almost back to his usual twinkly self, Professor Dumbledore sat down at their booth, which had suddenly grown into a U-shape with extra seats while no-one was looking. "She will be, yes. Some manifestations of emotional stress in Wizard children can be rather extreme. Miss Salvadore has spent the evening flying over the Brooklyn Bridge, unable to descend."
"Oh man," Alex said, sympathetically, and Hank's mouth hung open with horror. Cain finished the last of his ice cream.
Dumbledore patted Miss Salvadore's hand. "I've covered things up and there won't be any trouble, but Miss Salvadore refused to go to the Atlanta Negro Wizarding Academy unless I came with her. I considered that bringing her with me was the simpler solution, as the weather above Atlanta tends to make me sneeze."
Hank asked first. "Above Atlanta?"
"Yes, the Academy is in the clouds, as they had far too many difficulties purchasing appropriate land on which to build it. Lovely place, apart from the sneezing." A plate appeared in front of Professor Dumbledore. "Hmm. While I ate earlier, Miss Salvadore should have time for a snack before we go to the Portkey. Let me see…pineapple and pecan, please. And Mr McCoy, you may want to order your dessert."
The pancakes appeared and Hank ordered blueberry and strawberry ice cream – a sensible choice of which Charles greatly approved – before Angel and Raven returned. Angel's hair was tied into two bunches, which mostly covered up the missing chunk, and she was wearing a clean dress similar to Raven's. She slid into her seat, Raven beside her, and hungrily stuffed in her pancakes as if she hadn't eaten in days, pausing only to survey the boys at the table with hostile eyes.
A cup of tea appeared in front of Dumbledore. "Ah, excellent service here, I see. A good choice, Mr Marko."
"Uh, thank you?"
The moment Angel had finished her pancakes, Dumbledore had them all up and moving towards the arrival hall, though Charles supposed he should call it the departure hall now, herding them through the crowds with tremendous ease. Quite a few people seemed to know who he was, as Charles heard whispers of "Albus Dumbledore! That's him!" the whole way to the departure hall, though people's expressions and the general mood seemed to be one of awe and excitement rather than fear or suspicion, of which Charles was glad.
Alex was not as circumspect as Charles. "Why do so many people know you, Professor Dumbledore? Are you famous?"
They were inside the quieter departure hall before Dumbledore replied. "Yes, unfortunately so. During the war I defeated another wizard who was quite notorious, and many wizards and witches were quite relieved that he had been captured and could no longer hurt people."
"Was he very bad?" Angel asked, her voice quite clear now.
"That's a very difficult question, Miss Salvadore. He certainly did some very bad things, but I am unsure if one can call an entire person 'bad'. He was very kind to animals, for instance." He shook his head, slightly. "Now, come along. We don't want to miss the Portkey."
The six children followed him to the platform, where a dozen people were holding a brass rail attached to a large brass sphere. A wizard dressed in tartan robes similar to the witch they'd seen previously was checking names off a list as people walked onto the platform.
"Ah, Professor Albus Dumbledore and students."
"I've added one more since we last spoke, as you can see."
"Not a problem, sir. The Portkey has room for a few more."
Charles noticed that the man's quill pen was not in his hand but hovering independently above the scroll that he held. It dashed down onto the paper and added Angel's name to the list.
"Up you go, then!" The man waved them on, and they walked up the step to the platform.
"Have any of you travelled by Portkey before?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes on Cain and Charles. They shook their heads.
"Just Floo Powder and once a Side-Along Apparation," Charles explained.
"Well, then. Each of you needs to place a hand on the rail and whatever you do, don't let go."
"What happens if we do?" Raven asked, far too eagerly for Charles' liking. He looked down at Angel, though, and realised Raven was asking on her behalf. The new girl was terrified.
"Then you'll fly off somewhere over the Atlantic and I'll have to come to find you. You'll be fine, but it's a very cold and fishy experience that I do not recommend." Dumbledore's twinkle was back in full force, and Charles felt more relaxed to see that. Dumbledore shouldn't be troubled by anything.
"Thirty seconds!" called the tartan-clad man with the quill.
"Grab on, children!"
They each took firm hold of the brass rail. The adult passengers seemed bored with the whole process, which made Charles feel a little better: they resembled nothing more than New York commuters on their train ride out to the suburbs. Surely they didn't expect anything to go wrong. Raven's hand slipped into his, and he checked that her other hand was on the rail as the ten-second countdown began.
"Three! Two! One!"
Charles felt the strangest sensation, as if he was being lifted off the ground by his shirt buttons, even though he hadn't moved at all. A pale green light filled his eyes, though he could still see everyone around him standing perfectly normally. The brass rail and sphere was travelling with them but not the platform itself, and a moment later they all dropped an inch or two onto another platform, this one made of marble.
"Move along, move along, no shoving, there you go, welcome to London," a chubby wizard in navy blue robes intoned, as if he'd been saying these same words for years. He had a big gold badge that said "Asst. Stationmaster", so perhaps he had.
Charles felt a little disoriented but otherwise fine, so he was very surprised when Cain shoved past him and made a run for a rubbish bin, where he vomited copiously. Alex and Angel had also looked a bit woozy, but Cain's massive puke set them both off; Alex made it to another bin but Angel threw up on the floor by Raven's feet.
"Never mind, missy," the stationmaster said, "There we go, all cleaned up in a jiffy." He pointed his wand and with a brisk shout of "Scourgify!" the mess was all gone.
Angel's voice was still shaky, but she managed a thank you.
"Yes, can make you feel a bit funny, taking a Portkey for the first time. Headed to Hogwarts? They've got that lovely train these days, not like the Portkeys we had to use when we were at school. Half the first year was stuck in the infirmary each term!"
"There's a train?" Hank asked with some interest.
"Yes, lovely great steam train, the Hogwarts Express. Ah, but I'm sure Professor Dumbledore can tell you all about it. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
On to Chapter 2
Fandom: X-Men First Class/Harry Potter
Written for:
xmenbigbangCharacters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Raven Darkholme, Moira MacTaggert, Albus Dumbledore, First Class ensemble, plus various X-Men comics and Harry Potter characters.
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 65,000
Content warnings: mentions of the Holocaust, Nazis, physical and emotional child abuse and period-appropriate language.
Author's Notes: Thanks to
st_aurafina for an epic beta and to afrocurl for running the Big Bang comm and getting me to finish this fic!With art by
sunryder at AO3 or at tumblr. Summary: It's September 1947 and Hogwarts is finally getting back to normal after the disruptions of the war against Grindelwald and the Muggle World War. Transfiguration teacher Albus Dumbledore has been searching for students who have missed out on starting at Hogwarts, such as Charles Xavier and his sister Raven who have been hiding in the US, and refugee Erik Lehnsherr. Grindelwald's supporters are still strong, though, and it's going to be a turbulent first year for Charles, Raven, Erik and their friends.
The wizard in the green and orange tartan suit strode boldly across the lawn. Charles and Raven watched from an upstairs window, waiting eagerly for him to be turned into a salt pillar, but instead, when the traps sprung, blue daisies appeared on the grass. The wizard wasn't scared at all, in fact, he was chuckling to himself. He seemed slightly taken aback when the pillars of the balustrades unwound themselves into giant stone snakes, and Raven snickered, but then the wizard waved his wand and the snakes turned around and slithered back to where they came from.
"He'll never make it past the front door, don't worry," Charles told Raven. There was no way they were going to be separated now, not after the last two years fighting it.
Unfortunately for Charles, the wizard didn't go to the front door; he levitated up to their window. Raven squeaked in terror and hid under the bed, but Charles drew his wand and prepared to fight. He was thirteen now, and that was considered an adult in many cultures.
"Good morning, Mr Xavier, Miss Darkholme!" The wizard seemed very chirpy for someone who was about to destroy their lives. "My name is Albus Dumbledore and now that Miss Darkholme has turned eleven, I've come to invite you both to Hogwarts. We start our students a year earlier than the Salem Witches' Institute."
"What?" Charles tried to read the man's surface thoughts, but all he could pick up was the taste of lemon sherbet. Charles's mouth watered slightly: he hadn't had that since they were last in England. "You mean, you're from the British school?"
Mr Dumbledore avoided the window's attempt to bite him and climbed over the sill. "Yes, my dear boy. I understand from the headmistress of the Salem Witches' Institute that you chose to be, what's the term, "home-schooled" rather than leave your sister?"
"Yeah!" Raven leapt out from under the bed, her skin a ferocious bright blue and her little white teeth bared.
"A metamorphmagus! How delightful!"
"See, I told you!" Charles was quickly distracted from the peril by his intellectual victory.
Raven stuck her tongue out. "You said they only show up in pureblood families, and that doesn't make any sense. Why would my parents be scared of me and give me to Muggles if they knew what I was?"
Mr Dumbledore sat down on the bed. "It's true that metamorphmagi are most common in so-called Pureblood families, but it's also true that the idea of blood purity is a fairly new one, in Wizarding terms. Perhaps only a thousand years or so. There's no reason to think you don't have Wizarding ancestors who were a metamorphmagi themselves."
"I like your beard," Raven interrupted, copying it. Even Charles had to admit it was a pretty spectacular beard, streaked with auburn curls, pale sandy bristles and great grey streaks.
Mr Dumbledore laughed and stroked the beard Raven had grown in imitation of his. "Excellent, my dear girl! I can see you're going to do very well in my classes. I teach Transfiguration."
"We haven't accepted yet!" Charles was indignant. It was true that the only reason he had forged the home-schooling papers was so that Raven wasn't left alone with Kurt and Cain, and Kurt at least was dead now. If he and Raven could go to the British school together, that would solve most of their problems. Still, Charles was wary.
"Indeed, indeed. What if I go downstairs and make us all some tea? The two of you can discuss what you would prefer to do."
Charles sighed. "Okay. Let me deactivate the interior defences, or the statues might eat you."
"You have a lovely home, Mr Xavier. You must be very proud."
Charles ducked into the hallway and said the code-word to the portrait of the ancestor who had built the house in the early 1700s, then went back to check Mr Dumbledore hadn't made off with Raven in the meantime.
They were sitting on the bed comparing beards. Raven made hers bright purple, then Mr Dumbledore countered by waving his wand and putting beribboned plaits in his, decorated with tiny twinkling beads; Raven upped the ante with a magnificent forked and twirled creation that covered most of her torso.
"The defences are deactivated, as long as you don't try to leave the house or go to the basement," Charles announced, and had to stifle a giggle when Dumbledore turned around with his beard transformed into a pair of battling blue hedgehogs sculpted entirely out of hair.
"Wow!" Raven shrieked, then, "Thank you for showing me some beard tricks, Mr Dumbledore."
"You're very welcome, my dear. I shall get on with the tea."
Carefully checking that Mr Dumbledore hadn't left anything behind to spy on them, Charles plopped down next to Raven.
"What do you think? The Salem Witches Institute won't take you until you're twelve, and I don't know if I can get away with the homeschooling story now that Mother and Kurt are both dead."
"Maybe it will be nice to go where people don't know us? I mean, they all suck up to you so much here."
"Only because they want to marry me and get all my money." Charles made a face. "I'm not marrying anyone."
"Mr Dumbledore loved my morphing. He didn't tell me to stop it like Mother and Kurt did."
"Mother wanted you to look pretty for her friends. And Kurt only cared if you didn't stay out of his way."
Raven morphed into her frequently-used blonde-haired, pink-cheeked form. "I do look pretty this way."
"But you look amazing when you're blue. We can ask Mr Dumbledore what other metamorphmagi do at Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts is a cool name. I hope they have hogs there. With warts."
"Raven! Don't be revolting. So we're decided, then?"
Raven kicked Charles in the shin. "Yeah, but…" she lowered her voice. "What about Cain? Do you think we should tell Mr Dumbledore about him?"
"No! It was an accident and he deserved it anyway. He was trying to throw you off the balcony!"
"Yeah…but I would feel bad for him if he had to be here all alone. I read comics to him, sometimes. When I don't hate him so much."
Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe Mr Dumbledore can change him back? Once we're gone? I know he was only copying what Kurt did to him, but he's not allowed to hurt you! No-one is."
Raven hugged Charles hard enough to make his breath huff out, and pressed her hard head on him. "Thank you! You're the best brother! Cain is a meanie, but we can't leave him for the birds to poop on."
They joined hands and ran downstairs to find Mr Dumbledore. To their horror, he was sitting at the kitchen table pouring a cup of tea for Cain. Cain appeared somewhat confused and covered in dust, but he definitely wasn't made out of stone anymore.
"What did you do?" Charles shouted, but Mr Dumbledore didn't seem in the least perturbed.
"Ah, Charles, I was explaining to young Mr Marko the theory of accidental magic in underage wizards and witches. Would you like to hear about it?"
"No," he muttered mulishly, even though he did want to know.
"The reason that we start school about the ages of 10 to 12, or formal apprenticeships in the case of some families, is that this is the age where magic has built up to a sufficient extent that it may accidentally discharge in times of emotional distress."
"Is that how Charles turned Cain into a statue?" Raven inquired.
"What?" Cain blinked. "Last thing I remember I was, uh, talking to Raven on the balcony and now it's summer."
"Don't tell him, Raven!"
Mr Dumbledore sipped at his tea. "An excellent brew, yes. Your mother had superb taste in tea. Yes, Mr Marko, you have spent three months as a statue. This was entirely out of Mr Xavier's control, however, so you must not hold a grudge."
Both Charles and Raven looked askance at Mr Dumbledore at that: Cain was a champion grudge-holder.
"How can Charlie do something like that? Did he learn it out of a spellbook?"
Mr Dumbledore smiled. "While Charles is a fine example of an auto-didact, he certainly doesn't have the power or skill for that kind of transformation yet. Just as you don't have the ability to consciously make yourself stronger and more durable, Mr Marko."
"Dad was wrong? I'm not a squib?" Cain looked down at his hands, one still wrapped in a bandage from the potion laboratory fire, and Charles almost felt sorry for him.
Looking directly at Charles, Mr Dumbledore spoke inside Charles's head. "I have made the same offer to Mr Marko as I have made to you and to Miss Darkholme."
"That's not fair!" Charles found it easy to communicate with him, and it was much more precise than he'd ever managed before. "He's a bully and he hurt Raven!"
"And you, I believe. Mr Xavier, you are an intelligent boy but you have been terribly isolated in this house, and your mind is not open to alternate solutions to your problems."
"What do you mean?"
"Mr Marko is a bully, yes, but that's because that's all he's experienced. He truly believes that if he doesn't hurt someone first, they will hurt him. If we leave him in the same environment, he will never learn any other way to behave. A thirteen-year-old bully is harmful enough, but an adult bully can do a great deal more damage. Suppose one day he gets married? Has children of his own?"
Charles frowned. "You think that going to Hogwarts will let him see other ways to live?"
"Indeed I do. As would the Salem Witches Institute, though I hesitate to keep the two of you together then send him off alone. It will seem like punishment to him."
"But he isn't even nice to us!"
"Of course not, he can only see bullies and the bullied. He's jealous and frightened by the way he can physically hurt you and yet you don't give in to him."
"Oh." Charles considered that for a moment. "So if he goes somewhere else, you think he'll think where I go is better? And then he won't learn anything."
"You are a very astute young man, Mr Xavier."
"Okay then. But if he hurts Raven I'll turn him into a statue again!"
"If he hurts Raven, he will be punished according to the rules of the school. You won't be the only person responsible for his conduct anymore."
That was a tremendous relief, even though Charles had never thought about it that way before. "Okay, then. He can come too."
"Wonderful!" Mr Dumbledore said out loud, startling everyone. "I have a few more calls to make on my American adventure before we return to England, but I'm sure you'd rather come with me that stay in this big empty house. Boys, I'll show you a most delightful suitcase packing spell. Miss Darkholme, I see you don't have a wand yet, but I would be happy to assist you personally."
Cain glanced over at Charles, as if waiting for approval, and Charles realised with a shudder that that was exactly what Cain had been doing since his father passed away: waiting for someone to bully him into doing things.
Instead of turning away, he put on a bright smile. "Come on, Cain! I want to learn this spell. I suppose we'll need uniforms and textbooks and things, but we can get those when we get to England. And a wand for Raven."
"Hooray!" Raven clapped her hands. She'd tried using Mother's wand since she'd passed away, but it was really not comfortable in her hand, and she'd never been able to make it do anything, so she had given up. Cain had his father's wand, so no matter how many times Charles promised they'd find Raven a better one, he knew she was feeling left out and worried about her place in the family.
Mr Dumbledore had their suitcases packed in a great flurry of activity. Charles and Cain couldn't really perform the spell, if Charles was being quite honest, but Cain managed to get his suitcase to flop open and Charles managed to get a pair of pyjamas to fold itself up, and using magic in such a deliberate way felt wonderful. Mr Dumbledore did most of the packing himself, really, while Raven danced about in excitement. Charles' case ended up twice the size of Cain's or Raven's simply because of the number of books that the spell apparently thought he would need.
"I could leave some in the library," he said dubiously, but Mr Dumbledore shook his head.
"The spell says that you feel you need them, and who are we to argue with that? Diminuendo!" At his command the cases shrunk to the size of a cigarette pack, and the three children could easily pick them up.
"Okay, that was cool," Cain said. He hadn't argued with Mr Dumbledore telling him that he was coming to Hogwarts. He was unusually quiet, really. Charles put it down to shock and having been a statue for three months.
Raven peered at Cain's bandaged hand. "Does that still hurt? Charles got a burn on his leg and he had to put cream on it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Mr Dumbledore, can you help him?"
Mr Dumbledore took Cain's hand in his. "Hmm. I certainly can't do as much as a fully trained Mediwizard, but I can ease the pain somewhat." He traced his wand over the burn. "There. Now, come along! We have to rescue a little boy from prison!"
Raven, Cain and Charles all stared at each other for a long moment.
"Are we really going with him?" Cain asked.
"I like him!"
Charles nodded. "I'll set the house defences when we go so that no-one will get in and it will stay clean. I suppose we'll return for holidays and things, or maybe they'll make us stay with an adult."
"We don't have any relatives left, and Raven never had any."
"I didn't want them anyway!"
"Cain, don't tease Raven. I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe we can pay someone?"
They all suddenly found themselves floating through the air and down the staircase. Charles and Raven giggled, but Cain didn't seem pleased to be controlled by someone else.
"This is a delightful fireplace, but I have no time to waste admiring it!" Dumbledore called out, and floated them all down to the hearth in front of the Floo-connected library fireplace. They'd run out of Floo powder weeks ago, but Dumbledore seemed to have some of his own in a little pouch encrusted with gold and silver embroidery of prancing unicorns. After a moment, Charles realised that they were in fact prancing, in motion around an endless circle.
"Black Eagle residence, Colorado!" Dumbledore called out, throwing the powder in the fire. Grabbing Cain's hand – and encouraging the other two to copy him – they all leapt in together.
They emerged from a burning pit of fire somewhere much colder than New York, dumped onto the warm stones that surrounded it. The formerly blue sky had clouds piling up in the distance, and the air felt thin. They were in the yard of a small wooden house.
"Albus!" A tall Indian man shook hands with Mr Dumbledore.
"Good to see you, Bill. These are my new students, Cain, Charles and Raven, from New York. Children, this is William Black Eagle, a dear friend of mine."
Bill nodded at them, then turned back to Mr Dumbledore. "I've found the location of the boy you were looking for. He's in a secure Muggle facility in Omaha, Nebraska."
"Ah, so it wasn't wizards after him?"
"No, no sign of that at all. If we hadn't lost so many people in the war we would have been right on to this one. Under normal circumstances we would have had him weeks ago, before this became a major problem."
"Yes, that's the case everywhere. The Muggle-borns have been falling through the cracks terribly."
Charles spoke up. "Do you mean there's children out there who don't even know they're wizards or witches? And they're performing accidental magic?"
"Indeed, Mr Xavier. And all the schools have lost staff recently, meaning there's very few of us to find them."
"But why are you here, then, not in England? There must be Muggle-borns in England, too."
"Indeed there are, but Hogwarts has long had magical detections in place for all wizarding children living within the borders of Britain and Ireland, as Beauxbatons does in France and the Low Countries. Not all schools have been so fortunate and I have spent this summer travelling about to assist them in tracking down missing students."
"America's pretty big," Raven warned him.
"I've found a dozen students already, my dear, and have just one more to go before we head to Scotland."
"Did any of them decide to go to Hogwarts?" Cain asked.
"One, yes. The boy we're tracking down today, Mr Summers, might also be coming along, as I believe he will be more comfortable out of the country."
"There's food on the table inside," Mr Black Eagle told them. "We shouldn't be more than an hour."
"We can't go?" Charles asked, though he didn't know if he actually wanted to go and find a boy in a "secure facility".
"Go, eat, check your requirement list for Hogwarts!" Mr Dumbledore made a parchment appear in Cain's hand, then he and Mr Black Eagle vanished with the bright pop of Apparation.
Cain shrugged. "I don't know what kind of Indian food we're supposed to eat, but it's cold out here. Let's go in."
Indian food turned out to be a jug of lemonade and a plate of sandwiches, much to their surprise. Charles had been looking forward to eating pemmican or rattlesnake or something from a Wild West movie, but the sandwiches were excellent.
They all read the long scroll of school requirements as they ate.
"Oh, look, Transfiguration! That's Mr Dumbledore's class!" Raven was thrilled and Charles couldn't blame her.
Their mother, despite being a witch herself, had been very unhappy that Charles had brought Raven into the family, even though there was nothing she could do about it. Charles had written Raven into the family Bible before telling anyone about her, and that particular family tree carried magical obligation. She never realised that Charles knew that perfectly well and that was why he'd done it.
Cain was a lot less pleased by all the textbooks they had to buy. "I haven't been to school since we were living in Albuquerque. I've probably forgotten everything."
"Firstly, this will all be new to everyone, and secondly, they'll mostly be Raven's age if they're British. Mr Dumbledore – well, I suppose we should call him Professor Dumbledore – said they were automatically found at the right age if they were inside the range of the spell. You and I will have an age advantage, Cain."
Cain's face lit up at the idea of being older than everyone else and Charles rather wished he hadn't mentioned it. Still, there would be students in higher year levels and also teachers to keep him away from the younger kids. And Cain wasn't a squib, after all. Maybe he'd be less angry now. He'd never managed even the most basic of tests his father set, but Dumbledore had got him to magically open a suitcase in ten minutes flat. Still, Charles imagined that if Kurt was constantly shouting at him, he wouldn't have concentrated very well, either. It wasn't that Kurt hadn't hit Charles – or Raven, or their mother – but that his attacks on them were irregular and always followed by apologies and presents. His attacks on Cain were constant and ugly, and Cain never received an apology, not even when Kurt broke his wrist. Maybe Professor Dumbledore was correct and Cain needed to see more kinds of people.
"It's still a few days until the start of term," Charles told the others, looking at the dates on the scroll. "Even counting travel time, we should have at least a day to shop in London. The Wizarding street there is called Diagon Alley."
"Have you been there?" Raven asked, excited.
"Yes, with Mother. She was showing Father about the Wizarding World. She always said he tried to analyse everything in Muggle scientific terms. I can't remember that much – I was only six – but there were wonderful ice creams and a huge bookshop. There's a good wand shop, too, Ollivander's. If we don't get to Singer's in New York, we should go there for your wand, Raven."
"Oh, I really want one! Are you going to get a new one, or stick with what you've got?"
"My dad got a new wand, one time," Cain stated, unexpectedly. "His old one got destroyed in the accident that killed your dad."
The boys were silent for a moment, but Raven piped up. "What was Singer's like? Were there a million wands there?"
"I dunno about a million, but lots, yeah. The witch who made them asked him lots of questions about his old wand and then gave him some to try."
"Maybe we should do that?" Charles mused. "Then we can see if the wands we inherited are the best ones for us or if we should get a new one?"
"I'm not giving up my dad's wand!" Cain bellowed, and Raven and Charles both flinched. Charles had no idea why Cain was so attached to Kurt Marko: he'd treated Cain far worse than he had Charles or Raven, and their hatred for him was tempered only by knowing that he'd died saving both Cain and Charles from his burning laboratory.
Professor Dumbledore walked in, as casual as if he'd just popped outside for a walk. "Hello again! Those sandwiches look delicious. If you come outside quickly, you'll see something terribly exciting!" He hurried out and the three children dashed after him.
Outside, Mr Black Eagle had quickly drawn a circle of symbols enclosing a short, solid blond boy about Raven's age, who was glowing faintly red and looked very distressed.
"Is he cursed?" Raven whispered to Charles.
"I don't know! I think they're going to help him."
Professor Dumbledore gazed up into the sky. "All clear!"
Mr Black Eagle waved his hand – he had a small, leather-wrapped bundle in it rather than a wand – and the symbols on the ground floated into the air, spinning in the air above the boy, who was clenching his teeth.
"Whenever you're ready, Alex," he said.
Alex screwed his face up as if he was about to cry, but instead red glowing rings appeared in front of his chest. They swung around and around then flew off in all directions. As each burst of energy hit the ring of symbols, it instantly changed direction and zapped straight up into the air like a great burst of fireworks. When the rings were gone, Alex collapsed to his knees.
Charles started to hurry over to him, but Professor Dumbledore held out a cautionary hand.
"Give Mr Summers a chance to cool off. He's had a difficult afternoon and built up quite a charge."
"Is it underage magic, the same as Cain and me?" Charles asked.
"Yes indeed. Mr Summers has a great deal of potential if he can learn to focus." Dumbledore turned his wide grin on Charles. "And that's exactly what Hogwarts will help him to do."
Glancing over to see that Cain wasn't close by – he was over watching the ground near Alex steam – Charles leaned close to Dumbledore. "Are you sure going to Hogwarts is the right thing for Cain? He gets so angry…"
"Are you sure he should be close to you and your sister, I presume you mean?
"Um, yes, that's what I mean."
"Hogwarts is for the benefit of all Wizarding children, not only those who someone might consider worthy. We've had students who make Mr Marko look like Shirley Temple."
Charles was most alarmed by this: he hadn't thought that Professor Dumbledore's policies might lead to living with people more dangerous than Cain. "Oh. Is it safe there?"
"Oh, no, absolutely not. For one thing, there's the giant squid. Then there's the ghosts, the evil paintings, the Splinching Gallery…Where's your sense of adventure, Mr Xavier?"
"Safely at home!"
"Where you control the environment. I see. Perhaps Mr Marko isn't the only one who will benefit from mingling with his peers."
"Maybe I don't want to go!" Charles was not so quiet now.
"You've already accepted, Mr Xavier. You can't rescind your acceptance now." Dumbledore's eyes still twinkled, but his mouth was a thin line. "Hogwarts is an amazing place where you will learn a great deal about magic and about yourself. But it is not, and never will be, safe."
"What if I don't want adventure?"
"Then I advise you keep your head down, work hard, and keep a close eye on your sister."
Charles sighed. The Professor was right. Raven was going to find trouble no matter where she went. It might as well be somewhere where people didn't think she was either a monster, or just plain ugly. "Okay. What form will we be in? Raven will be in First Form, I suppose, but what about Cain and I?"
"As your home-schooling record was in fact false, you'll be in the same year as both Mr Marko and Miss Darkholme." Dumbledore chortled at the expression on Charles' face. "Oh, no need to worry, my dear boy. The wars in Europe have disrupted many students' schooling. You won't be the oldest in the year. And, of course, if you're doing well in your regular studies, we can assign extra studies to catch you up to your age group."
"Oh good!" Charles was most relieved. He had briefly entertained a vision of himself and Cain sitting awkwardly in a classroom full of Raven-sized younger children. He could happily replace that with a vision of himself doing Cain and Raven's homework while they paid him back with the kinds of Wizarding sweets he fondly remembered from his time in England.
Raven was helping Alex Summers up – the magical energy had knocked him over – and brushing off his clothes. He was dressed in a white shirt and grey pants so cheap and heavily starched that they sat stiffly on his frame as if he was dressed in cardboard clothes.
"Hi! I'm Raven! That's my brother Charles, and this is my step-brother Cain, and they did accidental magic too! I haven't yet, but I'm a metamorphmagus so maybe I have enough magic already!"
"You're a what?" Alex said, rudely.
"It means I can change my shape!"
Charles tried to warn her mind-to-mind as they could sometimes do, but Raven didn't seem to be receptive right now. She changed to her blue form, which was quite striking against her pink dress, and Alex shrieked and jumped backwards. Fortunately, Mr Black Eagle was there and put a big hand on Alex's shoulder.
"You're going to be seeing a lot of things you don't immediately understand, Alex. Just as people didn't understand what you could do."
Alex had the good grace to blush and duck his head, though he still kept a wary eye on her. "Uh, I'm sorry? I was surprised."
Raven's lower lip stopped trembling and she grinned again. "Okay, great! I'm pretty surprising, I know."
"What were those energy beams?" Cain asked, curiously. Today Charles had heard him talk more than he usually did in a week.
"They're the way magic spills out of Alex," Mr Black Eagle told him. "Albus said that you had a similar experience, but by making yourself stronger."
"That's cool," Alex said, "Wish I could do that."
"I didn't do it on purpose."
Professor Dumbledore stepped forward and handed a tiny suitcase to Alex. "You don't look very comfortable, Alex. Why don't you find something in there that fits you a little better? Get changed, then we can all go to Halifax."
"Halifax, Canada?" Charles' eyes were wide. He'd never been to Canada, and for some reason he had the idea that Floo powder only worked inside a country. If Muggles could organise international airline flights, surely Wizards could organise an international Floo system!
Alex appeared deeply suspicious, but took the miniature suitcase into the house with him. A few moments later, he returned dressed in sturdy denim pants, sneakers, and a blue-and-white checked shirt. He still held himself quite stiffly, though, as if he expected the other clothes to reappear at any moment.
"Thank you for the sandwiches, Mr Black Eagle," Charles said politely.
"Thank you!" Raven joined in as Professor Dumbledore threw a handful of Floo powder into the firepit. Alex stared at it in horror, but Charles took him by the arm.
"Don't worry. It's not going to hurt you. This is one way that wizards travel."
"I'm not getting in any damn fire!" Alex cursed, despite seeing Dumbledore wade into it, completely unharmed.
"Look, I'll put my arm in and you'll see," Charles told him, and waved a hand into the flames that were currently a portal. Before he knew it, he'd leaned a little far and both he and Alex were thrown through with that confusing whooshing feeling that Floo travel always gave, and a moment later they were stumbling out of a large brick fireplace in a large hall furnished with plush red and blue armchairs and couches. A large wooden sign declared
ARRIVAL HALL
DEPARTURE HALL
WELCOME TO HALIFAX
"Welcome, travellers!" A witch in tartan robes – not as blinding as Dumbledore's, fortunately – waved them forward to join the rest of their group. Alex clung to Charles' arm in intense confusion, but as soon as he saw Cain and Raven standing next to Dumbledore, he released Charles and smoothed down the arm of his own shirt to cover up that he'd ever been clingy or afraid.
"Good, good," Dumbledore declared, herding them all together. "Now, I have a little business to conduct, and the next Trans-Atlantic Portkey won't be ready for some hours." He pressed a golden Doubloon into Cain's hand. "Buy yourselves some dinner and be here on the Departure Deck by ten. Is that enough North American money? I'm terrible at arithmetic."
"Uh, yes, that's plenty." Cain seemed terribly surprised to be given the responsibility, but Dumbledore traipsed off without a backwards glance, leaving the four children standing and staring after him.
"You look a little lost, my dears," the tartan-clad witch told them, pulling a small scroll from a pouch at her belt. "Here's a map of the terminal – don't worry, there's plenty of places for you to wait. The long-distance departure deck is right over there, near where you came in." She pointed to a row of fireplaces and benches with brass spheres on them, though most people were getting in and out of the fireplaces. "Now, set your watches to local time!" She waved her wand, and Charles and Cain were both startled to see their watches spin forward an hour. It had still been light in Colorado, but it was seven in the evening here.
"Thank you," Charles replied, manners always in place even when he was utterly confused.
Alex grabbed the map out of his hand and blinked in surprise at the glowing dot that indicated their position. "Okay. If we're here, we have to go that way to the travellers' amenities. There's pictures of food floating all over this bit, so I guess we should go there."
They walked close together to avoid being separated by the crowds. It wasn't constantly busy, but there were waves of people coming and going and each wave flooded through the grand doorways with some force. Other people seemed to be there to shop or dine out, wandering around without haste or direction. Outside the arrival hall, there was a long shopping arcade with a glass roof. There was faint tinkly music in the air and the colours of the glass roof rippled slowly in time to it, casting a warm light over the shoppers, diners and travellers in the arcade.
"Do you think they'll let us in without a grown-up?" Raven worried.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have left us otherwise." Charles tried to sound confident, but he wasn't really sure about that at all. He seemed to be a very eccentric man indeed.
Alex seemed to have recovered from his trip through the Floo network. "This is pretty cool! And if they ask us why we don't have an adult with us, we can say we're waiting for our teacher. It's true, isn't it?"
Charles had to admit this was a good plan, and one that he and Raven had used before, after Kurt had died and the Muggle servants had stopped showing up. The house in England where their mother had grown up had had a house elf who took care of everything, but there weren't any of those in America. Charles and his father had once visited a house that had a brownie imported from Scotland, but that wasn't the same thing at all.
Cain led them into a restaurant that advertised "Best Prairie Pancakes" on a sign held by a mermaid. Charles was a little confused by the juxtaposition, but everyone else eagerly hurried in and he was pulled along with the group.
A lantern appeared in front of them and bobbed politely, as if it was bowing in mid-air. It moved away from them slightly then waited until they followed. Raven worked out what it wanted first and scrambled after it; they ended up at a booth with four places set. They all shuffled in – Charles next to Cain, Raven beside Alex – and writing scrolled around the edges of their plates.
PRAIRIE STYLE PANCAKES
CHOOSE YOUR FLAVOUR
"What flavours are there?" Raven asked out loud.
WHATEVER YOU DESIRE
"Ooh! Please may I have, um, strawberry and grape and, um ice cream?" Raven defiantly ignored Charles' stern look from across the table. To be honest, he thought that sounded rather nice, but Raven should probably eat a good meal. The pancakes appeared in front of her immediately, a steaming stack of bright purple pancakes and fruit with ice cream rapidly melting on the top. It was vanilla chocolate chip, her favourite.
"Me next!" Alex yelled. "Bubble gum, fried onions and hotdog!"
"That's revolting," Charles said, but it appeared in front of Alex anyway. The pancakes were full of sausage chunks but there was a distinct whiff of bubble gum coming from them. On closer inspection, there were pink and yellow swirls through the pancakes beneath the piles of fried onions.
Cain spoke up. "Texas chili, beef and beans."
"That's more sensible!" Charles felt quite exasperated by the others. At least Cain was asking for a proper meal. "And I'll have bacon and eggs. And tomato, please."
"That's breakfast food!" Raven was delighted by Charles' choice, even though Charles had only been trying to think of something he tasty on pancakes that would also make a good dinner.
"Maybe it's breakfast time in England," Charles shrugged.
Raven and Alex both laughed with their mouths open, displaying their vividly coloured chewed-up pancakes.
Charles stabbed his bacon. "I can't believe we have to be in the same year level as you."
"We do?" Cain looked horrified.
"Yeah, Professor Dumbledore said there's lots of older kids starting this year because of the war, though. It's not just us."
"Huh, I still can't believe I have to share with you, freak." He pointed his fork at Raven.
"Shut up, Cain," Raven growled. "We're not at home now. You can't push me down the stairs."
Charles desperately wanted Raven to be quiet and not cause trouble, but it was Alex who acted. He flicked a fried onion at Cain with tremendous accuracy, hitting him right on the end of the nose. Distracted, Cain swatted it away, his face turning as red as his hair and his attention turning to Alex.
"Yeah, don't try it. I've been to jail," Alex growled. "You hit me and I'll stab you."
"Really?" Charles and Cain chorused together, while Raven said, "That's cool!"
"Raven, that is not cool!" Charles snapped.
Alex shrugged, nonchalant, and Charles had to wonder if this was why Dumbledore had to recruit him for Hogwarts instead of sending him to one of the American schools. If so, he was starting to think Hogwarts must be as peculiar as its name implied.
"Hey, what's that kid doing?" Raven pointed to a tall boy with thick glasses who had wandered into the pancake restaurant. He was ignoring the helpful waiter lantern and paying close attention to something held in his palm.
"I think he's coming over here," Charles frowned. Everyone craned their necks to see the boy – who was also carrying a small suitcase – and he noticed them watching.
The boy shuffled awkwardly but didn't greet them. Instead he referred to whatever was in his hand before sighing audibly and trudging over to their table.
"Hi, uh, I'm Hank McCoy. Professor Dumbledore gave me this to find you." He held out his hand, where a small tin compass pointed at their table.
Alex gave him a suspicious glare. "How do we know that the compass points at us?"
Hank put down his suitcase, took a few steps backward and turned to the right, holding out the little compass so that Alex and the others could see it. Indeed, the needle swung back towards them, regardless of the direction Hank was facing.
Hank put it in his pocket and returned to the table. "I've been wondering about it, too. Professor Dumbledore brought me to the arrivals hall and then an owl was bothering him, so he gave me the compass and told me to find you. It seemed he was in a hurry."
Alex and Raven wriggled over so that Hank could sit with the two of them.
Charles leaned forward. "Are you going to school too? How old are you?"
"Yes, yes I am. I'm twelve." Charles was surprised at this – Hank wasn't as big as Cain, who was thirteen, but Cain was almost adult-sized, which meant Hank was pretty tall, too.
"You can't go to the Salem Witches' Institute?" Raven asked, with some interest.
"I thought 'witch' referred to female wizards?"
"Yes, dummy, but it's been co-ed for a hundred years now. Charles was going to go there but he stayed home to look after me."
"Your brother took care of you?"
"Our parents are dead, actually," Raven told him, quite cheerfully, but Hank looked terribly embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"
"Mine are, too," Alex chimed in. "I don't care, though. So if your parents aren't dead, why are you coming to this crazy school in Scotland?"
"I received a letter from the Salem Witches Institute, but I didn't believe it. I mean, there's no evidence that magic exists, is there? A few more letters came after I threw out the first one, and eventually I replied to say I wasn't interested, and the letters stopped."
"So Professor Dumbledore came to get you?"
Hank turned a fascinating shade of deep red, almost purple, and his voice turned squeaky. "Yes. I suppose they want me to go to school somewhere."
Raven didn't seem to notice Hank's strangled reply, and chattered on. "Oh, because your parents aren't wizards? Mine probably weren't either, and they threw me out and I ran away from the orphanage and Charles found me and then I was adopted and now he's my brother."
Hank seemed relieved at her interruption. "I see. My parents didn't throw me out, but they didn't really understand my science experiments and I think they put magic in the same category. I'm sorry to hear you lost both your parents."
"Four parents." Cain's voice was flat. "Charles's dad died, then he adopted Raven, then my mom died in a car crash, then their mom married my dad. Then their mom died and my dad died too."
Hank paled at this. "Do all wizards tend to die violently?"
"Oh, no, don't worry!" Charles was quick to calm him. "My dad and Cain's dad worked together in potion development, and that's a very dangerous field. Cain's mom was a Muggle, so it was a regular car crash, and my mom was sick for a long time. Most wizards live a long time, though."
"I'm glad to hear that! Though potions development does sound rather interesting. Can anyone make a potion, or only wizards?"
"I don't know?" Charles had never thought about that before, and neither had anyone else, from the blank looks.
They were distracted by a plate appearing in front of Hank, and the other plates vanishing in favour of dessert bowls.
"Pick whatever you want!" Raven leaned across Alex so she wouldn't miss what he chose.
When Hank was happily eating his cinnamon, honey and banana pancakes, everyone else dug into assorted flavours of ice cream: Charles had gone so far as to make up liquorice all-sorts flavour, which was really tasty.
As their spoons scraped the bottoms of the bowls, Professor Dumbledore ambled up to their table. He had a small, frightened-looking Negro girl in tow.
"Oh good, another girl!" Raven climbed right over Alex and Hank before Charles could stop her, and jumped down from the booth to greet the newcomer.
"Hello! I'm Raven Darkholme, what's your name?"
"Angel," she said, very quietly. On closer inspection, she had a black eye, a large but closed cut on her bottom lip and a hank of her fluffy hair missing, as if someone had hit her in the face a few times then grabbed her by the hair. Her checked green and white dress was torn across her shoulderblades and barely staying in place. She was sticking very close to Professor Dumbledore.
"This is Angel Salvadore, children. She will be accompanying us to Hogwarts. Miss Darkholme, would you be so kind as to take Miss Salvadore to the facilities and help her find something comfortable to wear?" He handed Raven a tiny suitcase, and she nodded, serious about her new responsibility. It took her a few tugs of the hand to dislodge Angel from Professor Dumbledore's side, but she managed it with a smile, and the two girls went off together.
"Is she all right?" Charles asked, as soon as the girls were out of earshot.
Almost back to his usual twinkly self, Professor Dumbledore sat down at their booth, which had suddenly grown into a U-shape with extra seats while no-one was looking. "She will be, yes. Some manifestations of emotional stress in Wizard children can be rather extreme. Miss Salvadore has spent the evening flying over the Brooklyn Bridge, unable to descend."
"Oh man," Alex said, sympathetically, and Hank's mouth hung open with horror. Cain finished the last of his ice cream.
Dumbledore patted Miss Salvadore's hand. "I've covered things up and there won't be any trouble, but Miss Salvadore refused to go to the Atlanta Negro Wizarding Academy unless I came with her. I considered that bringing her with me was the simpler solution, as the weather above Atlanta tends to make me sneeze."
Hank asked first. "Above Atlanta?"
"Yes, the Academy is in the clouds, as they had far too many difficulties purchasing appropriate land on which to build it. Lovely place, apart from the sneezing." A plate appeared in front of Professor Dumbledore. "Hmm. While I ate earlier, Miss Salvadore should have time for a snack before we go to the Portkey. Let me see…pineapple and pecan, please. And Mr McCoy, you may want to order your dessert."
The pancakes appeared and Hank ordered blueberry and strawberry ice cream – a sensible choice of which Charles greatly approved – before Angel and Raven returned. Angel's hair was tied into two bunches, which mostly covered up the missing chunk, and she was wearing a clean dress similar to Raven's. She slid into her seat, Raven beside her, and hungrily stuffed in her pancakes as if she hadn't eaten in days, pausing only to survey the boys at the table with hostile eyes.
A cup of tea appeared in front of Dumbledore. "Ah, excellent service here, I see. A good choice, Mr Marko."
"Uh, thank you?"
The moment Angel had finished her pancakes, Dumbledore had them all up and moving towards the arrival hall, though Charles supposed he should call it the departure hall now, herding them through the crowds with tremendous ease. Quite a few people seemed to know who he was, as Charles heard whispers of "Albus Dumbledore! That's him!" the whole way to the departure hall, though people's expressions and the general mood seemed to be one of awe and excitement rather than fear or suspicion, of which Charles was glad.
Alex was not as circumspect as Charles. "Why do so many people know you, Professor Dumbledore? Are you famous?"
They were inside the quieter departure hall before Dumbledore replied. "Yes, unfortunately so. During the war I defeated another wizard who was quite notorious, and many wizards and witches were quite relieved that he had been captured and could no longer hurt people."
"Was he very bad?" Angel asked, her voice quite clear now.
"That's a very difficult question, Miss Salvadore. He certainly did some very bad things, but I am unsure if one can call an entire person 'bad'. He was very kind to animals, for instance." He shook his head, slightly. "Now, come along. We don't want to miss the Portkey."
The six children followed him to the platform, where a dozen people were holding a brass rail attached to a large brass sphere. A wizard dressed in tartan robes similar to the witch they'd seen previously was checking names off a list as people walked onto the platform.
"Ah, Professor Albus Dumbledore and students."
"I've added one more since we last spoke, as you can see."
"Not a problem, sir. The Portkey has room for a few more."
Charles noticed that the man's quill pen was not in his hand but hovering independently above the scroll that he held. It dashed down onto the paper and added Angel's name to the list.
"Up you go, then!" The man waved them on, and they walked up the step to the platform.
"Have any of you travelled by Portkey before?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes on Cain and Charles. They shook their heads.
"Just Floo Powder and once a Side-Along Apparation," Charles explained.
"Well, then. Each of you needs to place a hand on the rail and whatever you do, don't let go."
"What happens if we do?" Raven asked, far too eagerly for Charles' liking. He looked down at Angel, though, and realised Raven was asking on her behalf. The new girl was terrified.
"Then you'll fly off somewhere over the Atlantic and I'll have to come to find you. You'll be fine, but it's a very cold and fishy experience that I do not recommend." Dumbledore's twinkle was back in full force, and Charles felt more relaxed to see that. Dumbledore shouldn't be troubled by anything.
"Thirty seconds!" called the tartan-clad man with the quill.
"Grab on, children!"
They each took firm hold of the brass rail. The adult passengers seemed bored with the whole process, which made Charles feel a little better: they resembled nothing more than New York commuters on their train ride out to the suburbs. Surely they didn't expect anything to go wrong. Raven's hand slipped into his, and he checked that her other hand was on the rail as the ten-second countdown began.
"Three! Two! One!"
Charles felt the strangest sensation, as if he was being lifted off the ground by his shirt buttons, even though he hadn't moved at all. A pale green light filled his eyes, though he could still see everyone around him standing perfectly normally. The brass rail and sphere was travelling with them but not the platform itself, and a moment later they all dropped an inch or two onto another platform, this one made of marble.
"Move along, move along, no shoving, there you go, welcome to London," a chubby wizard in navy blue robes intoned, as if he'd been saying these same words for years. He had a big gold badge that said "Asst. Stationmaster", so perhaps he had.
Charles felt a little disoriented but otherwise fine, so he was very surprised when Cain shoved past him and made a run for a rubbish bin, where he vomited copiously. Alex and Angel had also looked a bit woozy, but Cain's massive puke set them both off; Alex made it to another bin but Angel threw up on the floor by Raven's feet.
"Never mind, missy," the stationmaster said, "There we go, all cleaned up in a jiffy." He pointed his wand and with a brisk shout of "Scourgify!" the mess was all gone.
Angel's voice was still shaky, but she managed a thank you.
"Yes, can make you feel a bit funny, taking a Portkey for the first time. Headed to Hogwarts? They've got that lovely train these days, not like the Portkeys we had to use when we were at school. Half the first year was stuck in the infirmary each term!"
"There's a train?" Hank asked with some interest.
"Yes, lovely great steam train, the Hogwarts Express. Ah, but I'm sure Professor Dumbledore can tell you all about it. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
On to Chapter 2
Tags:
- big bang,
- fic,
- gen,
- harry potter,
- x-men
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