Genre: Lotrps AU/Harry Potter future!fic crossover
Summary: Dom becomes a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and finds himself strangely attracted to Elijah, one of the Gryffindor seventh-years.
Warnings: Like I said, AU and crossover. Also it's HP so, obviously, supernatural stuff.
Disclaimer: The wonderful HP world is created by JK Rowling who is not me, and the LOTR boys do not belong to me, both facts which I obviously regret but are nevertheless true. Sniff.
Feedback: Makes me prostrate myself at your feet and grovel pathetically.
Author's notes: Thanks to my gracious and lovely understudy-beta, ladysunrope
This is a loooong chapter, just so you're warned. Flashbacks are my friend.
Chapter dedicated to willdirect4food for making this truly awesome and shiny banner for the wizard boys!
For a moment, there was nothing but a white mist swirling before Elijah’s eyes. Then Dom was suddenly next to him, and almost instantly it cleared away and the world came back into focus abruptly, revealing that they were standing in a pristine, white-walled corridor.
“I thought that we should start at the beginning,” said Dom briskly, pointing at the door right in front of them, the sign on which said ‘Lily Potter Special Maternity Ward’.
A stout, middle-aged lady was standing beside them – presumably this was her memory they were sharing, thought Elijah. He wondered who she was, and was in fact just about to ask when a noise from behind the closed door stopped the words on his lips; the distinct mewling cry of a newborn baby.
A few seconds later the door opened, and a curly-haired young Healer came hurrying out, carrying something in her arms, which she pushed almost roughly at the older lady, a look of barely concealed dismay on her pretty face.
“It’s male,” she choked out, before hurrying around a corner and out of sight.
The lady adjusted the bundle in her arms and pursed her lips in disapproval at the disappearing form of the younger woman. Then the bundle moved and made a discontented sound – and Elijah looked down at the infant Dom.
At once he recalled the framed picture on the dresser in Dom’s room at Hogwarts – the one of him as a teenager, holding a similar bundle. Elijah had then assumed the picture must be blurry or damaged, as there appeared to be a sort of stain where the baby was supposed to be.
Now he knew better, so it didn’t really come as a shock to him that the stain was, in fact, the baby. His little face, the only part of him that could currently be seen, was a vaguely roundish sort of pink blur with slightly darker shapeless eyes and mouth.
“Poor little fellow,” cooed the lady softly, rocking him. “A rough start, and I’m afraid it won’t get easier along the way.” She sighed. “Let’s get you back to your mummy now, all right?”
“Who is she?” Elijah finally dared to ask, tearing his eyes away from the baby that would grow up to be his lover as he was carried back into the room. “Was she your first Guide?”
Dom shook his head. “There was no such thing as a Guidance Office back then, remember? No, that was Madam Routledge, she’s a Muggle worker. She was put on the case for my parents’ sake, not mine. But she took a liking to me, I suppose. Pleaded my case left right and centre for years. She helped found the Department for Magical Integration in the end.”
The white mist once again descended on them, and when it dissolved they were standing in an average family living room. Madam Routledge was again at their side, her hair a bit more shot with grey than before. In a corner of the room, a little ways away, sat a small huddled form, its shape changing rapidly, which Elijah knew indicated strong emotion; its colours sharp and dark, meaning anger. Every now and again little Dom’s entire frame shuddered, and he sniffed heartily. He was perhaps five years old.
“Your mummy and daddy called me in, Dominic,” said Madam Routledge sternly. “You frightened a lot of the neighbours this morning, it seems. Why don’t you explain to me why you did that?”
“I want…” squeaked a high voice, choked with tears, “I want to go to school like Matthew! I don’t want to be in the house all the time anymore! I want to go too!”
“You can’t, Dominic, you know that.”
“But I want to so badly!” sobbed the little Changeling. “Why can he go and I can’t? It’s not fair! I don’t want to be alone…”
Madam Routledge approached him carefully and tried to put a soothing hand on his arm, but he recoiled like a cornered animal. “Don’t touch me!” he yelled.
The fury in his eyes and voice was astounding for such a young child, but Madam Routledge was apparently made of sterner stuff and did not withdraw her hand. Instead, he took the little shoulders and held him to her. He wriggled and kicked and screeched, his shapes contorting horribly, but she did not let go, holding him even tighter instead until he tired himself out and went limp in her grip, still sobbing weakly.
“You can change shape, child, but you can’t change what you are,” Madam Routledge murmured, more to herself than the crying child in her arms.
“I… hate… myself,” gasped the little Changeling between sobs. Elijah felt his heart break.
Madam Routledge fixed the child with a stare and shook him. “Dominic, I don’t ever want to hear you say that again, or even think it, you understand? Do you really think your mummy and daddy and brother would love you so much if you weren’t worth loving?”
He sniffed and shrugged. Madam Routledge looked at him sternly. “No. They love you because they see the real you, who is a lovely, bright, wonderful little soul. And someday when you grow up, someone’s going to come along who sees that, too.”
He looked up at her, tears of anger and frustration glistening on his face. “Really?”
Without taking his eyes off the child Dom, Elijah’s hand found the adult one’s and laced their fingers together.
“Really,” he said to the little Changeling, squeezing Dom’s hand.
Mist enveloped them once again, and even before it had completely cleared, Elijah could hear a crash and the sound of shattering glass.
“I can’t! I just can’t! I’m rubbish!”
They were standing in a bedroom – Dom’s bedroom at home. Elijah recognised the Star Wars poster on the wall at once. Beside them stood, no longer Madam Routledge, but a considerably younger Fran, and in the middle of the room stood Dom himself.
He seemed to be about Tara’s age, maybe a little older; ten or so. His chest was heaving, his shapes once again emotional and angry-looking. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood that was dripping from his right hand, with which he had presumably smashed the mirror, now lying in pieces on the floor.
Fran just pursed her lips in a way that, Elijah observed, was far more effective than any angry outburst on her part could have been.
“You know behaving like this isn’t likely to get you anywhere, Dom.”
The young Changeling seemed to diminish in size before their eyes. “No,” he said resignedly. “I’m just hopeless. I get angry because of that and… and I can’t do it, Fran, I just can’t…”
He sank down on the bed, looking like he was fighting hard not to burst into tears or smash something else. Elijah had seen both the rage and the despair of this child in the older Dom, and looking at it now only strengthened his resolve that the future Dom would never have to go through this again. Not alone, at any rate.
Fran had walked over and sat down beside the boy on the bed. She did not move to touch him or comfort him, which was a good idea, thought Elijah, because even from a distance he could see that the lad was tense as a bowstring.
“I don’t know why you even bother with me anymore,” he whispered to her, hanging his head and not looking at his Guide.
“I would think that’s obvious,” said Fran matter-of-factly. “Because I care for you, Dom, and because I have faith in you. I believe you have the makings of a great man, and a great wizard. And, it seems I am not the only one.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dom miserably.
In response, Fran took an envelope out of her pocket and held it under his nose. It was made of yellowish parchment and addressed in green ink, and Elijah knew what it was even before he spotted the Hogwarts seal on the back when Dom tore it open.
Taking the two sheets of parchment out of the envelope, Dom looked wonderingly at his Guide, who was smiling. “Go on, let’s hear what it says.”
Dom focused his attention back on the letter and read aloud. “Dear Mr. Monaghan. We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of…”
He trailed off, all previous anger forgotten. “They’ve… accepted me? But I thought they didn’t…”
“There’s a new Headmaster now, who is shall we say an aquaintance of mine,” said Fran evenly, though Dom seemed to read her eyes and know exactly what she meant.
“You mean he’s a… like me?”
“I am not at liberty to say,” said Fran sternly, but her eyes twinkled. “So, you think you’ve found your motivation again?”
Elijah’s by now expert eye saw many emotions going through the young Changeling: astonishment, confusion, elation, anxiety, fear and, finally, a sort of fierce joy, followed by grim determination. “Yes. Yes, I think I have.”
“Because you must understand, Dom,” said Fran, earnest once again as she repaired the mirror with a flick of her wand, “that you need to master yourself before you can go to Hogwarts. I can’t be there to look out for you, and some people will be scared of you, maybe even try to hurt you, if you make yourself known for what you are. This is important for you, okay?”
“Okay Frannie,” said Dom, standing in front of the mirror again. “I’ll do as you say.”
“That’s my boy,” smiled Fran. “Now, let me have a look at that hand of yours, and then we’ll start again from the beginning, like I explained.”
The room faded again, but not before Elijah caught a glimpse of a familiar face on the young Changeling, slowly shaping itself.
It took a moment for Elijah to grasp where they had landed next, but when he did he gasped in surprise.
They were in Dom’s office at Hogwarts; only it wasn’t Dom’s now, which showed: it was now absurdly tidy and ridiculously orderly. Behind the gleaming desk sat a pretty but rather bushy-haired woman, peering attentively at Fran, who sat opposite her and was explaining something that was, apparently, fascinating to her.
“Oh, I see. Well, of course that can be arranged, I’m sure,” the woman was saying. “I’ll leave a spot open in any case, and as soon as she is born we’ll have her name put down. Ah, Dominic, there you are!”
Elijah wheeled around to see a gangling boy in his early teens, softly closing the door behind him. He had reddish brown hair fashioned in a rather floppy way, which only accentuated his sticking-out ears and pale face. His robes were rather too short. He looked, if Elijah was honest, a bit dorky.
Dom seemed to know what he was thinking and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well, back then I thought I looked pretty cool.”
Elijah snorted but refrained from comment: since when did he of all people have a right to call people dorky?
The teenager Dom had by now reached the desk, looking down at the floor in a way that clearly stated he’d been at this point before, trying to look penitant while trying to figure out which of his capers he was about to be reprimanded for. “You sent for me, Professor?” Then he recognised the woman opposite her. “Frannie! What’re you doing here?”
“Your Guide came here to discuss something with me. She asked me to see you,” chirped his teacher cheerfully, looking at Dom in a way someone would look at their prize-winning pet.
“I would like to talk to Dominic alone about this, Professor Weasley, if you don’t mind,” said Fran.
Professor Weasley’s face fell briefly, before she recovered her cheer. “Of course, of course. I’ll go and look in on our guests. Excuse me.” She left the room.
“What’s going on, Frannie?” asked Dom, looking concerned. “Is anything wrong back home? Are Mum and Dad allright?”
“They’re fine, Dom. I came because I need to talk to you about a development at the Ministry.”
“But…” Dom’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I thought you weren’t allowed to talk to me about… about Ministry stuff.”
“This case is an exception,” said Fran, “because it concerns you too, and we need your help.”
“My help? But how can I help you?”
“Not us, Dom. The new Changeling who’ll be born soon.”
For a moment, Dom looked completely taken aback. Clearly he’d been expecting anything but this. “Another… another like me? When?”
“She’ll be born in about two months. Yoon Jin has Foreseen her coming and we tracked down the parents. Muggles, like yours. We’ve talked to them and they’ve decided to keep her. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether you want to be involved in her life, Dom, but I would like you to meet her parents, at any rate. It might help them to accept the whole thing.”
“Okay,” said Dom. He still seemed a bit bemused.
Fran smiled. “Shall I go get them?”
“You’ve brought them?” asked Dom, surprised, quickly flattening his hair making it look even more ridiculous, as Fran went to the door adjoining the office with the one next to it. She opened it and admitted a very nervous-looking Sean and a very pregnant-looking Síobhan.
“Is this him, then?” asked Sean, peering at Dom suspiciously. “But he doesn’t look… I mean, he looks… normal.”
Both the teenager and the older Dom winced at the same time at the blunt statement. Síobhan looked at her husband reproachfully. “Sean, for shame! That’s our daughter’s brother you’re talking about.”
She held out her hands to Dom, smiling. “It’s good to see you, Dominic.”
“Dom, please,” said the teenager, smiling back. “Ehm… congratulations, I guess.” He gestured vaguely at Síobhan’s belly before accepting her hands in his.
She laughed. “Thank you. I was a little unsure about it, myself, at first, but then Miss Walsh told us about you and I felt easier, and now that I see you I’m so glad, because at least I know my daughter won’t be alone, she’ll have you to help her.”
“He hasn’t decided on that yet, Mrs. Sullivan,” put in Fran.
Síobhan looked crushed, but Dom didn’t let go of her hands. Instead he smiled shyly at her and Sean. “Actually, I think I have.”
He looked earnestly at both Muggles in turn. “I mean, I have to. I should. I’ve always hated to be the only one, how much of a git would I be if I let another one… another Changeling… go through that, too?”
Elijah suddenly realised that this was the first time he had heard young Dom say the word aloud, and judging by the widening of Fran’s eyes, it was a sign of some significance.
Síobhan was hugging Dom, and even Sean, who had been looking wary all through the interview, now came forward to shake his hand.
Fran cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but we have to get you back home now, and Dom needs to get back to class. I daresay you’ll see each other again soon.”
Síobhan nodded and hugged Dom again. “Will you be with us when… when she’s born?” she asked. “I’d like you to be there.”
Dom looked at Fran, who smiled. “I think we can arrange that.”
“Then I’ll be there,” said Dom firmly, grinning.
Elijah had to blink a few times when they arrived, rather abruptly, in the next memory. It was night, and they were outside, on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch to be exact. They could see the castle’s many windows in the distance, seamlessly blending into the backdrop of the star-strewn sky. Although Elijah could not feel any heat or cold, as this was someone else’s memory, he imagined it must be a beautiful, warm summer night.
The peaceful athmosphere was, however, disturbed by a great many noises, most of which seemed to come from a teenage girl sitting on the lowest step of the stands. She was wrapped in a blanket, her hair in complete disarray, and her face (which Elijah imagined must be pretty in any state but the one it was in now) blotched and streaked with tears and contorted with a horrified expression.
Fran was on her knees in front of her, exasperatedly trying to get more than two words out of her, but the girl seemed too shocked to be able to speak in anything other than hysterical exclamations, among which Elijah recognised words as ‘horrible’ and ‘monster’.
Fran seemed to have come to the end of her patience. She took the girl by the shoulders and shook her roughly. “Oh, snap out of it, silly girl. Nothing happened to you, he did not attack you or attempt to eat you, and in fact I think you damaged him more than he did you.”
This earned her an indignant glare, but she ignored it. “No doubt this will have evolved into a spectacular story by the time you get back to your dormitory, but the world will never hear it if I have any say in the matter. I am not permitted to erase your memory, more’s the pity, but all the same you are not to speak of this to anyone. I will ask Professor Lupin to see to it personally that you won’t. Dom’s life is difficult enough without girls pointing at him behind his back, and I will not see all his progress of five years destroyed in one night by a gossiping fifteen-year old. Understood?”
Elijah was surprised that such a fragile, amiable woman could look so frightening, and it seemed the girl – whom he had by now realised was the fabled Evey – had noticed it, too. At any rate her hysterical sobbing dropped a notch, and she nodded meekly.
“Good girl,” said Fran. “Now, which way did he go?”
The mist did not take so long this time to transport them to the next memory; indeed, Elijah realised as they arrived in what looked like Dom’s clearing in the Forest, it was on the very same night as the last one.
The little house around the willow was already there, though in a much more primitive stage; it looked more like a hut than anything else. Fran pushed aside the curtain in the doorway and went in. Elijah and present-day Dom following.
Inside it was a horrid mess; everything within the walls seemed to have been smashed, torn, or otherwise ruined. Dom himself was sitting in the very centre of it, rocking back and forth, his shape contorted and grotesque.
“Get out,” he rasped without looking up. “I’m not safe.”
“Stop it, Dom,” said Fran. “Don’t do this to yourself. You know better.”
Dom laughed hollowly. “If I’d known better, I never would have wasted my time on this… this hopeless stupid sodding thing. I’ve told you before, Fran: it’s just impossible.”
It only took three strides for Fran to plant herself in front of her charge, eyes blazing as she roughly pulled the young Changeling to his feet before he could protest. “And I have told you before that you should stop talking rubbish, Dominic! If I tell you you can do this, then you sodding well can.”
Dom shrugged off her touch. “Whatever. I’ve had it. I’m sorry, Fran, but I can’t do this anymore.”
“So that’s it, then? You’re going to throw away everything you’ve worked for, and because of what? A bloody girl. For God’s sake Dom, you don’t even like girls!”
The young Changeling’s head shot up at once. “What? How’d you…” He looked utterly baffled for a moment, then shrugged in resignation. “Never mind. It was never about her, anyway.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Everything!” cried Dom exasperatedly. “Everyone back in sodding so-called civilisation! Evey wasn’t the first to react like that, and she isn’t going to be the last, but I realised that if I stay there, people will look at me like she just did for the rest of my life. It’s not worth it, Fran. I can’t live like that. I’m not going back. I don’t belong there.”
Once again Fran did not do the obvious and start off a lecture; she just looked at Dom steadily, until the young Changeling had to look away. “But what about everything you’ve fought so hard for, Dom? What about your dreams?”
He just sighed deeply. “Dreams are for children, Frannie.”
Suddenly a new voice chimed in. “Do not say such things, Changeling, for without dreams the world would be a dark place.”
Elijah swiveled around to see a somewhat younger Karl standing in the doorway of the ravaged hut. Dom the teenager just looked at the centaur miserably. “It is a dark place, Karl.”
“Come with me,” said Karl, beckoning to him. “Come, and I will show you.”
Teenage Dom stepped outside, followed by his older counterpart, Elijah, and Fran. Karl was standing in the middle of the clearing, arms outstretched, face upturned to the heavens. It was a bright night, and hundreds of stars were glittering brightly in a black velvet sky.
“Look,” said the centaur. “Look up and tell me again this world is a dark place.”
“That was not what I…” began Dom sullenly, but Karl hushed him.
“I do not mean their light, glorious though it be. Look beyond, Changeling. Let your heart read what is written in the heavens for you.”
Dom looked up for a long time, and Elijah saw his body slowly relaxing, taking its accustomed shape again. He seemed older now, strangely beautiful in the light of the stars, and something was changing in his face that was beyond even a Changeling’s capacities to do.
Before their very eyes, the boy had just become a man.
Dom looked back at Fran, who had been standing a little ways away, observing silently, and smiled shakily at her, his eyes bright. “Let’s go back, Frannie. Okay?”
“What did they say?” asked Elijah softly, as the memory faded from view and they travelled through the mists to the next one. “The stars? What did you see that made you change your mind?”
Dom smiled and looked into his lover’s eyes. “Oh, I think you can guess.”
Before Elijah could ask any more, the mist cleared and he was blinded by the sudden sunlight, starkly contrasting with the memory they had just left. They were again in a Quidditch stadium, though there was no castle in the background this time, and once again there was a great deal of noise, this time coming from the crowd in the stands.
A girl was sitting on the grass of the pitch, clutching her right arm and moaning in pain. Her leg was also at an odd angle, but as of yet she didn’t seem to have noticed that. Tears were streaming down her face, but her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on something at the other end of the pitch, and they were burning with an intense hatred.
It was Liv.
The Dom of this memory was sitting just where Elijah had expected him to be; namely at the receiving end of Liv’s death glare. He was leaning against one of the goalposts, his head in his hands. A very handsome, dark-skinned young man had his arm around the shaking shoulders.
“Let me through, I am a Ministry worker. What happened here?”
Fran had pushed her way through the gathering crowd and was now standing opposite the referee, hands on her hips, looking ferocious despite the fact she was almost half his size and very pregnant.
The man looked down at her with distaste. “Where’d you come from?”
“Does it matter? Dominic Monaghan is my charge and I demand to know what happened to cause such an uproar.”
“Don’t know what they called you for,” said the referee, shrugging. “It’s plain as plain. He used magic during the game. The team’s disqualified.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Fran. “You know he couldn’t prevent that from happening.”
“It was magic nonetheless,” said the referee nastily. “His own fault, lady, if he gets airs. The likes of him should stay away from things like this, if they know what’s good for them.” There were many murmurs of agreement from the crowd. Fran turned on her heel and stalked off towards Dom and the other young man.
The latter stood up when he saw her approach. “What did he say?” His voice was low and had a heavy cockney accent, which was completely at odds with his finely carved looks.
Fran sighed and shook her head mutely, before kneeling next to Dom, stroking his hair and murmuring gently. Dom hunched forward even more and shook his head.
The young man – who must be the friend Dom had talked about, the one he had lost his virginity to – was now looking at the group gathered around the groaning Liv, who was being lifted onto a stretcher. She was saying something to a boy in his late teens, who nodded curtly and then came striding straight at them.
Elijah cast one look at the boy and felt the blood drain away from his face. He clutched at Dom’s arm, eyes never leaving the approaching figure. “Dom, it’s… it’s Josh!”
Dom frowned. “That’s Josh? You mean, as in… your Josh?” Elijah nodded.
“Well, what’s your Josh doing in my flashback?”
That question was soon answered. Josh planted himself right in front of the other young man. “I demand to speak with the minder of that… of that.” He pointed at Dom, his nose wrinkled in distaste.
Fran had already seen him, and leaving Dom to collect his thoughts, stood next to Dom’s friend, putting a hand on his arm. “Go sit with Dom, Naveen. He needs a friend, now.”
Naveen retreated, still glaring daggers at Josh, who ignored him and turned his gaze to Fran. “Livid has been seriously injured in an accident caused by that freak, and she demands that the creature will be put down, as soon as possible.”
If Fran was as infuriated by this statement as Elijah was, she didn’t show it. “I beg your pardon?” she said icily.
“I am acting on behalf of my cousin,” said Josh, “and she wishes me to tell you that she will be pressing charges at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, to ensure that this beast of yours will not be able to bring harm to anyone else.”
“He doesn’t fall under their jurisdiction, but under mine,” said Fran, a touch of steel in her voice. “And I say that it was an unfortunate accident. Dominic is very well adjusted, one of my most succesful cases.”
“You realise this isn’t saying much,” sneered Josh. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. My cousin wants that Changeling put down, so it will be put down. The Committee will listen to reason. That thing is dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near people ever again. The family will see to that.”
Having delivered his message, he stalked off, Fran glaring after him. Naveen still had his arm around Dom, looking as if nothing would please him more than to jump up and deliver a good solid kick to Josh’s retreating backside, but he said nothing. Instead, he hauled Dom to his feet. “Come on, mate, nothing left for us here. Let’s go home, yeah?”
Dom nodded miserably. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for coming, Frannie. Your doing, I suppose?” he asked Naveen, who smiled. “Just to be sure you wouldn’t run off. You needed someone who’s on your side, mate.”
A sad smile lifted the corners of Dom’s mouth. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a couple of days to smooth things over,” said Fran, standing on tiptoe to kiss Dom on the cheek. “It won’t come to a trial, I’ll see to that. If that Livid girl thinks those accusations stand a chance, she’s got another thing coming. Will you be all right?”
“Don’t worry,” said Naveen, putting an arm around the Changeling. “I’ll take care of him.”
“C’mon,” said present-day Dom, gently but firmly taking Elijah’s arm as the mist began to blur out the memory. “Time to go.”
Elijah felt his feet leave the ground and then, seconds later, they were standing in the dimly lit Archive, Dom’s Pensieve swirling gently between them.
“What happened to him?” asked Elijah. “Naveen.”
Dom chuckled. “Oh, he decided after a while that he was straight after all, and that an academic career didn’t really interest him. So he dropped out, lived rough, shagged as many girls as possible, then half-heartedly married one of them, though from what I heard he has some half a dozen illegitimate children running around these days. He was fun to be with, though, and a good mate.”
“And the charges?”
Dom shrugged. “Like Fran said, it didn’t even get to court, not with the new laws. So Liv decided to practice her own justice. The rest you know.”
He stretched luxuriously. “Shall we head on back, then?”
“Already?” said Elijah, disappointed.
“Well, we can stay here for a bit longer if you like, but you’ve seen the main attractions. And I thought, if we get back early, we might be able to… make a little side-trip to my place, if you know what I mean,” said Dom, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Elijah grinned. “Well then, what are we still standing here for?”