HP/SV Crossover (with a guest appearance of a Buffy character): We Know We're Hex and Larry Part 1

[pepperjackcandy]

My actual story for wip_it_good:



Title: We know we're Hex and Larry
Author: PepperjackCandy
Series: No
Archive: my writing at fanfiction.net
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Clark/Lex, other m/f, other m/m, other f/f
Category: Drama/Romance
Spoilers for: The first four Harry Potter books, assorted Smallville Season 1 episodes

Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics.

A/N: There should be a world of author's notes here, but I'll try to keep it short.

1. I began this between GoF and OotP, so I've discounted much of OotP and most all of HBP here.

2. After I wrote Harry Potter and the Key, I've decided that Harry and Dawn Summers are my OTP (well, when it isn't Ron or Draco, at least). So that's the Harry/? pairing here.

3. I wrote part of this while staying in a real 15th century Scottish castle, Culcreuch. Fantastic place to stay, particularly if you're fond of bats, as Culcreuch had the largest colony of bats in the U.K. living in the attic above the dining room. Per the manager of the hotel, it was no longer the largest colony at the time we stayed there, but there definitely were plenty of them. And there's a pub in the dungeon.

Thank you to ilovedoyle for the beta and Brit-check.

===

"I feel like I should be singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," Clark said with a grin.

"Super-what?"

"Or, Chim-Chim-Cheree? Feed the Birds?" At Lex’s perplexed expression, Clark explained, "You know, Mary Poppins? Julie Andrews? 1960-something?"

His bald companion shook his head slowly in bewilderment.

"It’s a jolly holiday with you, Lex," Clark warbled off-key cheerfully.

Lex was so rapt with his friend’s levity, that he didn’t see a young man coming out of one of the shops that lined the sidewalk. "Oh, excuse me." He apologized as he ran smack into the oncoming pedestrian.

"That’s quite all right." His victim responded, smiling.

Lex felt like he was looking into a mirror at a face he'd never seen before, but before he could say anything, the stranger had disappeared into the milling throng that lined the street.

"What is it?" Clark was looking at him concernedly.

"I . . . That man. Did you see him?"

Clark shook his head. "No."

"He looked so familiar. He came out of that pub. . . ."

"Pub?" Clark asked, confused.

"That one, right there. The," he looked up at the sign, "Leaky Cauldron."

"The Leaky Cauldron?" Clark asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Right there. Don't you see the sign?"

Bewildered. "No."

Lex dragged Clark back a dozen steps, so that they were standing in front of the door that, apparently, Lex alone saw. "The door is right there in front of us."

"It's a blank wall, Lex." Clark knew that Lex wasn't prone to hallucinations, so he focused his x-ray vision on the wall, hoping to see something - anything - but all he saw behind the wall was boxes, like it was some kind of storeroom.

"All right, then . . ." Lex began, only to stop when Clark's stomach rumbled loudly. "Are you hungry?"

"Nah. I can last." Clark's stomach underscored his lie by rumbling again, louder than the first, if that were possible.

"Come on, let's go get you something to eat before you faint on me." Lex, taking one last glance at the Leaky Cauldron sign swinging in the breeze, grabbed Clark's arm and steered him back towards the main street.

***

After Lex paid the bill, the pair walked back out onto the streets of London. Lex looked up and down the street. "Can you remember which way it was?"

"That pub you saw?" Clark asked rhetorically. "That way." He pointed up the street.

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Trusting his friend, Lex headed in the direction that Clark suggested, Clark following along beside him. It appeared that Clark was right. Things did look familiar this way.

But as Lex and Clark walked farther, Lex began not to recognize things. "Maybe we missed a turn?" He asked Clark.

Clark merely shrugged. "Well, let's go back and see if anything looks familiar."

They turned and retraced their steps, soon ending up at the restaurant where they'd had lunch.

Lex pulled a map out of his jacket pocket. "Let's see, we'd gone down here, then around there, then . . . Got it!" Like a man with a mission, Lex headed back up the street, only to slow down a few blocks later. "The turn should be here. Or the next block. I think."

"I thought you lived here for a year, Lex."

"I did, but I took the Tube everywhere. It's miserable to try to get around this city on foot."

"Now you tell me." Clark joked. "Come on, let's find an Underground station and go on to the Tower. We can look this pub up in the phone book tonight."

***

The face of the stranger who'd bumped into him haunted Harry all the way back to his flat on the Muggle side of London. He walked through the door, absently scratched under Hedwig's chin, and headed off to his bedroom.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror and took out his wand. Concentrating on what he could remember of the stranger, he incanted, "Revela!"

The mirror grew filmy, then the film dissipated, leaving Harry staring at his own reflection.

"Now that's strange," Harry mumbled, then he tried the incantation again, "Revela!" to no avail.

Sighing, he finally decided to try reconstructing the face of the stranger, rather like Muggle police composites.

"Face that's long, rather than round, but not too long, though. Blue eyes. Bald head, pale, complexion, wispy reddish eyebrows *almost* the color of Ron's, a firm chin . . . No, that's not right." Harry found himself staring at a reflection of himself, with no hair, blue eyes, and red eyebrows.

He erased that image and tried again, getting the same result.

Finally, in frustration, he tossed his wand onto the bed and walked into his living room to vent his frustrations in a letter to Dawn.

***

Clark took his time coming out of the bathroom, and when he emerged, dried off and dressed for dinner, he found Lex already dressed, sitting in the lounge, leafing through the phone book.

"So? What did you find?"

"Nothing." Lex sighed. "Lead, Leaf, Lean, Leap, no Leaky Cauldron. No Leaky anything, in fact."

"Well, we can hit the streets again tomorrow. I'm sure we'll find it again, given enough time."

***

"No! Please! Don't hurt my sons." It was Lex's mother's voice, pleading. Only, who was she pleading with? And . . 'sons'?

Lex couldn't do anything, couldn't help his mother, couldn't stop whatever was happening, could only listen to the high-pitched male voice that responded. "They cannot stand in my way, girl. Nothing can stop me."

Lex awoke on his mother's scream.

It took several minutes for him to calm down enough to even begin to process what had happened.

Sons? He thought. She must have meant Julian and me. Or . . . He turned over onto his side, but the disturbing sounds from his dream - the dream that felt more like a memory than anything else - kept coming back to haunt him. Finally, he gave up and got out of bed.

He was pulled inexorably towards Clark's room and found the door standing wide open, as if in invitation. Lex stood in the doorway. "Clark?" He whispered, too softly to carry across the room.

A moment later, Clark hadn't responded, so Lex turned to leave. He was stopped by Clark's whispered response, "Lex? What time is it?"

"I don't know." Lex admitted. "I'll just go back to bed."

Clark sat up and turned on the light by his bedside. "You came all the way over here to tell me that you don't know what time it is?" He asked jokingly.

"No, I . . . well, I had . . ."

"Yes?"

With a great force of will, Lex made himself say, "I had a bad dream and couldn't sleep."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"You want some company? I don't need much sleep." Clark offered.

Lex refused with a shake of his head. "No. I'm fine. Really."

"Why don't I believe that?" Clark asked.

"Well, that's my answer, and I'm sticking to it."

Clark scooted over slightly. "Then why don't you sleep here tonight?" At Lex's incredulous expression, he said, "I used to have nightmares when I was a kid. I'd crawl into bed with my folks and everything would be all better. I can't really hope that it'll be the same for you, but . . ."

This, Lex knew, was a bad idea. Before his doubts could stop him, Lex hopped into bed with his best friend. He looked up into Clark's astonished eyes. "Could you turn out the light? I can't sleep with the light on."

Then, before he could see Clark's reaction, Lex flipped over so he was facing away from Clark and let himself drift off into sleep.

***

Several days of seeing the sights, and combing the neighborhood for The Leaky Cauldron later, Lex asked Clark, "This is getting us nowhere. I promised you a trip to the UK, not just London, so are you up for a little sightseeing outside of London?"

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

"All over, but I thought we'd rent a car and start in Scotland, then maybe work our way south. I thought it might be fun to go up and see where Dad got the castle from."

Clark felt a little thrill at the thought of being alone on the road for a couple of days with Lex, though he fought not to show it. "You're the tour guide on this trip. I'm just along for the ride."

Lex grinned. "It's your trip, too. In fact, it's mostly your trip, since this is your graduation present."

"In that case, then, why don't we go up to Scotland, to see where your dad got the castle from?" Clark asked.

"Good idea." Lex grinned.

Lex called down for a car, and soon the two young men were headed off up the M6 on their way to Glasgow.

They were in no particular rush to get to Scotland, so the morning of their third day out from London, they were north of Glasgow, a copy of the legal description for the castle and Lex's GPS in hand.

They drove for several hours, until Clark said, "Stop. We're here."

Lex pulled over to the side and they got out of the car. "So this is it, huh?"

"Well, close, anyway. Look." Clark showed Lex the GPS, which showed that they were, in fact, very close to the latitude and longitude indicated on the description.

Lex nodded. "So this must be it. Or nearly, anyway."

"I could see it belonging here. Well, over there somewhere," Clark indicated a distance away from the road.

Lex put his hands in his pockets and crossed the deserted country road to look down into the valley on that side of the road, nodding. "Definitely. The castle there," he pointed to the top of the hill. "Tenant farmers down there," he indicated a sheep pasture down in the valley. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm hungry. And that I see a village down there." He pointed down the road, which sloped down the hill they were on. "Why don't we go down there and grab a bite to eat?"

Nodding, Lex headed back for the car.

Minutes later, they were on the outskirts of a village so quaint it was positively archaic. "God, Lex. Look. The roofs are all thatched and the road's not even paved."

"It's like going back in time." As Lex said this, the car shuddered to a halt. "Damn." He mumbled. "I wonder if there's a garage in this town."

"Somehow, I don't think there will be." Clark responded, as a man crossed the street, followed by an assortment of brightly-colored sheep.

Lex chose to ignore the colored sheep. "It can't hurt to ask."

They got out of the car and walked towards the center of town, passing a sign that said, Welcome to Hogsmeade, Twinned with Atlantis.

Lex raised his eyebrows at the sign as Clark snorted with mirth.

Together they walked down the high street until they found the local pub, named the Three Broomsticks, a Tudor building that looked to be in an unrestored condition -they couldn't even see power and phone lines coming into the building. Together, they stepped into the dim confines of the building.

A buxom woman dressed in a period serving wench outfit was behind the bar. Her initial smile dimmed as she looked the two young men up and down slowly with something like disdain on her face. All conversation in the pub ceased. "What can I do for the two of you?" She asked unceremoniously.

Clark bristled at this, but Lex, ever the politician, responded smoothly. "Do you serve food here?" His question echoed in the eerily-silent room.

The woman nodded. "But your money is no good here."

"We have Scottish pounds, if that's what worries you."

Abruptly, everyone in the room burst out laughing, and Lex and Clark could hear a word that sounded like 'smuggles' or 'juggles' pass through the patrons.

Before Lex could figure out what was so funny, a tall, sallow, dark-haired man wearing a black robe stepped up to them, his beady black eyes fixed on Lex. "I'll cover their bill, Rosemerta."

The woman's eyebrows shot upwards into her hairline. "All right, Professor."

Snape showed Lex and Clark to a table. "Severus Snape." He said by way of introduction.

"Lex Luthor." Lex held out his hand for Snape to shake. "And this is Clark Kent." He indicated Clark.

"'Lex,' that's an unusual name."

"It's a nickname. Short for Alexander."

"Alexander?" Snape replied, as if he were checking that he'd heard correctly.

Lex nodded wordlessly.

"And what brings you to Hogsmeade, Mr. Luthor?"

"Lunch, actually. Clark and I were in the neighborhood and we were hungry, so we came into town to see if we could find something to eat. Speaking of which, is there a garage here in town? Our car stopped working on the outskirts of town."

"No. There'd be nothing like that here." Snape said as Rosemerta brought plates of peas, mashed potatoes and a slice of lamb to their table, setting them down without comment.

"No garage? Then where do the residents get their cars fixed?" Lex asked.

Snape continued, "I'm certain that once the time comes for you to leave, you'll find your car functions perfectly. Now, if you'll excuse me," Snape stood and left the table.

Lex and Clark watched their new acquaintance walk out of the pub, then turned their attention toward their food. By the time they'd finished eating, Snape was back.

Snape sat down at their table. "Are you available for a short while?" This was directed to Lex alone.

"What do you have in mind?"

"There's a school on the other side of the hill. Hogwarts. I'm a faculty member there, and the headmaster would like to speak with you."

"The headmaster of a school in Scotland wants to talk to me? Let me guess, he's after a grant from LuthorCorp."

Confusion crossed Snape's face. "I don't know anything about this . . . LuthorCorp. And I'm not at liberty to discuss the issue that Professor Dumbledore wants to raise with you."

Lex looked at Clark, silently asking what Clark thought.

Clark silently gave his assent. After all, Clark thought, what can they do to him that I can't protect him from?

Clark didn't know it then, but there was a lot they could do to Lex that he couldn't protect him from.

***

That afternoon, Harry returned home from work to find Hedwig waiting with a note from Dawn.

Harry -

If you can't summon up an image of this stranger, and he really does look like you, you might want to ask Professor Dumbledore about it. He might have some answers for you.

He usually does.

Love,
Dawn

Harry smiled at his girlfriend's letter. She still used a purple ball-point pen, same as she always had. She was right, of course. She always was right.

With that, Harry Apparated to the outskirts of the Hogwarts grounds.

***

After quite a long walk - the other side of the hill didn't begin to cover it - Snape led Lex and Clark up to the doors of the largest castle that either of them had ever seen. Clark wasn't sure he'd ever be awed by Castle Luthor again.

Seemingly effortlessly, Snape opened the massive wooden door of the castle, leading the pair into a foyer that looked to be nearly the size of the auditorium of Smallville High School.

Even Lex seemed astonished by the sheer size of the castle.

They were so awed, that they didn't even notice where Snape led them until they found themselves at the base of a moving staircase, like an escalator, only this one looked to be carved from solid stone.

"Mr. Kent." Snape addressed Clark directly for the first time. "If you would wait here, please, I've arranged for another member of our faculty to keep you company while Mr. Luthor and I have our conversation with Professor Dumbledore."

Clark moved to refuse, but Lex silently asked him to go along with this. After a moment trying to decide whether to accede to Lex's wishes, Clark nodded.

"After you, Mr. Luthor," Snape said as he directed Lex onto the staircase.

"I'll see you in a little while, Clark." Lex assured him as he disappeared upwards into the darkness.

After Lex and Snape had disappeared, a stone door swung into place barring him from following, and then the stone gargoyle that had been next to the staircase stepped into position in front of the door.

Clark hardly had time to process this when a young man, about Lex's age, slightly taller than Clark was himself, with bright red hair and a face full of freckles approached him. "You must be Clark Kent. I'm Ron Weasley, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Snape tells me that I'm going to be entertaining you for a bit while your friend talks to Dumbledore."

Clark nodded, finding himself warming to this unusual man, whom he noticed was wearing a robe similar to Snape's, only his was a warm burgundy color.

"My quarters are this way." Ron said, leading Clark down the corridor.

***

Lex wondered what kind of school this was as the staircase took them ever farther upwards. He bit his tongue though, planning to ask this Professor Dumbledore for the answers he needed.

Finally, the staircase deposited them in a nicely-appointed, if dimly-lit, waiting area. Lex could see a few magazines, though he couldn't make out their titles - surely they weren't really called Witch Weekly, and Henge and Stream, were they?

Snape knocked on the door to the office once and opened the door on the muffled, "Enter!" that followed.

Lex stepped into a cramped office that was actually larger than it appeared, an illusion caused by an inordinate amount of shelving, books piled on the floor, four owls perched on the edge of the desk, and a perch in the corner on which sat a large bird with vibrant red plumage.

Lex looked at this bird and his first thought was that if it were any bird he'd ever heard of, it could only be a phoenix. He hastily squashed down this thought before he examined it too closely. When it popped up again, he stomped on it for a while. By the time he had the thought bolted in a trunk and thrown into the deepest recesses of his subconscious, the owls had disappeared and the wizened, bearded man behind the desk was looking at him steadily. "Mr. Luthor, I presume?"

Lex nodded. "Lex Luthor."

The old man stood, and Lex saw that he was wearing a purple robe similar in style to the one worn by Snape. "Albus Dumbledore." He held out his hand for Lex to shake it. "Please sit down." He said after they shook hands.

Dumbledore looked at Snape. "You're right. The resemblance is amazing." Then, turning to Lex, he said, "But, your hair; what happened to it? Depilatus?"

Lex just looked confused. "Radiation damage. From a meteor shower when I was a child."

Dumbledore merely nodded. "And was it red or black?" Like those were the only two choices possible.

"Red. More like orange, really." Lex answered before it occurred to him not to.

A strange look passed between the other two men.

"Tell me, what's the earliest thing you remember?"

As before, Lex felt compelled to answer. Like this conversation was important in some way he didn't fully understand. "Christmas when I was four. My father wasn't home, so Mom sent away the servants and we raided the refrigerator and sat on the floor of the formal dining room eating dinner cold out of serving bowls." The next night, he'd been forced to attend the Luthor Christmas party. On the whole, he much preferred cold food on the floor of the dining room. "My mother was a redhead, too." He added as an afterthought.

Again the two men just looked at each other. "Nothing earlier than that?" Dumbledore asked.

Finally, Lex had enough of this. "What do you want from me?" He demanded.

Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "I think we may have been looking for you for nearly 25 years."

"But how will we know for sure?" Snape asked, looking at Lex like Lex was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

Dumbledore sighed heavily as well.

Lex heard someone clearing his throat from over his left shoulder. He looked back and saw only shelving, books, and something that looked like a battered witch's hat from an old Halloween costume. Confused, he looked up at the other two men, who looked at each other, a glint in their eyes, as they began to smile.

***

Ron led Clark through a warren of corridors. As they walked, Clark got the feeling he was being watched, though he couldn't find the source of the feeling.

He kept a close eye out as he walked, however, continually seeing movement where he knew it couldn't possibly be - within the frames of the portraits that hung on the wall.

Finally, Clark broke the silence. "You said that you teach? Defense Against the Dark Arts? What kind of class is that?"

"We're almost to my quarters. Why don't we talk about this once we're sitting down?"

Ron led Clark into a blind hallway. At the end of the corridor was a large painting of an empty chair. Ron sighed again. "It'll be just a minute. I hope."

A minute later, a young woman with blonde ringlets, wearing a ruby-red Elizabethan gown, stepped into the frame. "Oh, you're back, Professor Weasley. I didn't realize you'd be returning so soon."

"That's all right, Portia." Ron smiled, as the portrait swung open, revealing a large hole. "See you later." Ron said as he stepped through the hole.

"Have a nice afternoon, Professor Weasley."

"That's quite a security system. Very . . . high-tech?" Clark added this last in a despairingly hopeful tone.

"Actually, I think you'd call it sort of no-tech. Why don't you have a seat?"

Clark sat on the sofa as he looked around. The room was brightly-lit from the solitary window which gave the room northern exposure. The walls had been plastered and were painted a pure white, which helped to increase the brightness of the room.

Next to the window sat a stand with a perch on it, similar to, but much smaller than the one that held the macaw at the Smallville Pet Store. This only stood to reason, because the bird on the perch was much smaller than the macaw at the Smallville Pet Store. It was the tiniest owl he'd ever seen, and its little feet were stretched seemingly to their limit by the size of the perch.

"That's Pig." Ron explained.

"Pig?"

"Short for Pigwidgeon. My sister named him."

"Ah. He's . . . cute."

"Cute's a word." Ron responded dryly. "He's actually not a bad owl, if a little . . . flighty at times."

Ron sat in a chair perpendicular to the sofa. "What would you say if I told you that there's a whole world that runs parallel to your own that most people know nothing about?"

"I'd say you've been spending time in Smallville," Clark said sotto voce. At Ron's perplexed expression, Clark said more clearly, "A lot of strange things have happened in my hometown over the last few years, so I guess I'd say that not much would surprise me anymore."

"Well, I'll make this simple. Magic is very real, though only some people are able to use it. It's like what my sister-in-law Hermione once said is a genetic predisposition.

"Anyway, that's what we do here. Teach young people - ages 11 through 18, who are gifted with magic, how to use it. The Dark Arts are pretty much like they sound . . ."

"Bad?" Clark supplied.

"That's a very simple way to put it, but it is more or less accurate." Ron nodded. "As I've got several years of experience assisting in the battle against Dark wizards and witches," Ron sounded like his description was just the tip of the iceberg, "I've been hired this year to teach our students how to defend themselves against the things that the Dark wizards and witches can use against them."

"So that's how the picture at your doorway works?" At Ron's confusion, he explained, "magic."

"Oh. Yes. All wizarding paintings are animated that way. The paintings that lined the corridors have sort of been on their best behavior around you, since you're a Muggle and all . . . . A Muggle's a person who doesn't have the talent for magic."

"I thought I felt someone watching me."

"That's the paintings, all right. Some of them are better at playing Muggle than others. Here, our photographs are the same way, only they're more like recordings. They don't interact with the viewer the way paintings do."

Ron stood and walked to the mantel of his fireplace. "This is me with Hermione, my sister-in-law, and our friend Harry at the end of seventh year."

Clark took the picture. First, he saw Ron, his red hair and freckles unmistakable as he went through the motions of laughter. Then, a young woman with long brown hair, grinning over at the third subject of the photo, a young man who looked very much like, "Lex?"

***

Lex watched in astonishment as Dumbledore stood and walked to the shelving behind him to pick up the battered witch's hat.

"What would you say if we told you that we teach wizardry here - magic?" Dumbledore asked.

Lex intended to only snort derisively, but instead, he broke out in a gale of giggles. "I've been impersonated by a teenage girl, held hostage by an invisible boy, had an entire family with some kind of strange Seven Dwarves fixation camp out on my lawn after too many viewings of Shrek . . . . I guess I'd say that nothing much can surprise me anymore."

"Ah." Dumbledore said as he waited for Lex's laughter to subside. "Now, this may be a little large on you, but . . . " He said, then without further explanation, dropped the hat onto Lex's head.

Dumbledore was right; the hat was a little large. It slid down until the brim just reached the top of his eye sockets, which was uncomfortable in that loose-thread-tickling-your-neck way. Lex's fingers itched to adjust it just a little . . .

Don't. The single syllable reverberated in his head, stopping his fingers in mid-twitch.

Don't what? He asked.

Don't touch me. I'm just in the right position.

Don't touch . . . you? His attention shifted to the hat on his head.

The voice chuckled. Yes. Me. I just need a minute to rummage around here . . .

That sealed it. Lex reached up and grabbed the hat off of his head, throwing it onto the desk in front of him.

Snape hissed angrily. "You idiot . . .!"

"Don't worry, Severus." The . . . hat . . . said aloud. "I had enough time to see."

"See what?" The rational part of Lex's brain - the part that Lionel Luthor had raised - refused to believe that he was asking questions of a hat. The repressed part of Lex's brain - the fanciful son of Lillian Luthor -- was fascinated.

"That you're Alexander Potter, child of Gryffindor House, son of James and Lily Potter, and, some say, the savior of the wizarding world. Well, half of the savior at any rate."

"Half?" Lex asked.

He never got to hear the Hat's answer, for immediately, the door burst open, and a young bespectacled man with a shock of black hair burst through the door. "Professor Dumbledore, I need to talk to you."

***

"Lex?" Ron repeated. "No, that's Harry. Harry Potter."

"Oh, this is weird. He looks enough like Lex to be his . . . brother. Possibly even his twin. Well, except for the glasses. And the hair." He squinted. "What color are his eyes?"

"You can't tell from this picture, but they're green. A really bright shade of green, in fact."

"Yeah. That's different, too. Lex's eyes are blue."

"What color's his hair?"

"He doesn't have any." Clark blushed slightly. "But when he did, it was red." His eyes went up to Ron's hair.

"This shade?" Ron asked.

"Brighter. More . . . orange."

Ron walked back to the mantel, picking up another picture frame. The picture in this one was crowded with redheads in all shades from the dark auburn of the mother, to the almost strawberry-blonde of the daughter.

In the middle, on either side of Ron, were two young men who looked like identical twins, mugging and goofing off for the camera.

"That shade." Clark pointed to the twins.

"Poor guy." Ron grinned. "No wonder he . . . did he shave it or what?"

"Actually, he lost it in an accident." Clark ruthlessly suppressed the guilt that perpetually followed him when he thought of the meteor shower.

"Oh." Surprise flavored Ron's tone. "You know . . ."

"What?"

"Harry's Mum. She was a redhead. And Harry once told me that the twins' hair was almost the same color as his mum's."

"And . . ."

"And Harry looks like his father, James. Except for the eyes. Harry has his Mum's eyes. James's eyes were blue."

"You can't possibly be suggesting what I think you're suggesting." Clark had taken the final step in Ron's logic, but he wasn't about to say it aloud.

"You said that your friend Lex looks enough like Harry to be his brother. What if he is?"

***

Harry stopped as soon as he noticed that Dumbledore wasn't alone in his office. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had company."

"Don't worry about us." Snape said sarcastically. "What are we, after all, if not supporting characters in your personal . . . ?" Snape stopped when he realized that Harry had stopped listening to him.

Harry was staring at Lex, his green eyes wide with amazement. "You . . ."

Lex rose to his feet. "I saw you in London. I think I'd have known you even if I hadn't come here. You're Harry."

Harry nodded slowly, walking closer to Lex.

Lex reached out a hand, touching Harry's face lightly, like it was a soap bubble that he was afraid would break.

At the same time, Harry did the same with Lex's face.

Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, the two brothers grabbed each other in a fierce hug.

As they finally separated, reassured of the other's reality, Lex remembered the visuals from his dream/memory. As his mother, as Lillian Evans Potter Luthor, begged for the lives of her sons, Lex realized that he was cradled against his mother's right side. He looked across, directly into the green eyes of his brother, cradled against their mother's left side.

"Harry," he whispered in awe.

"Alexander?"

Harry looked from Lex to Dumbledore, for an explanation.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Um, well, yes."

The room lapsed into an expectant silence.

"I, er, didn't tell you about Alexander before, Harry, because we didn't know what had happened to him. It was hard enough telling you how Voldemort killed your parents . . . "

"Parents? But our mother wasn't killed." Lex interrupted.

"What? You mean that she's still alive?" Harry asked.

Lex could feel the happy anticipation coming from Harry in waves. He shook his head, trying to communicate his sorrow to Harry with his eyes. "She died in 1992, when we were 12."

Harry's eyes closed as he felt the pain of losing his mother all over again. "You'll have to tell me about her later."

Lex smiled sadly. "I will."

"As I was saying," Dumbledore interrupted them, "You didn't remember Alexander, and I deemed it suitable that you continue not to remember him."

"Why?" Surprisingly, this question came from Lex. "Why didn't you look for me? Why did you leave me to be raised by Lionel Luthor?"

"I think they must have tried to find you." This was from Harry. "I just tried to find you the other day, after we ran into each other outside the Leaky Cauldron, but I couldn't. I think you must be hidden somehow."

"Hidden?"

"You know, oculta or something like that. You *do* know elementary charms, potions, things like that, right?" Harry asked.

Lex shook his head. "Should I?"

At this, the Hat cleared its throat. "I've wondered about why Voldemort would negotiate with a Muggle, of all things. Apparently, this is the reason. Yes, Alexander. You should know the basic charms. You should have a working knowledge of potions, and know how to defend yourself against most common hexes and curses."

"How could I possibly learn things like that?"

"We do run a school of wizardry here, Alexander." Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye. He looked up at Snape. "We've never had a summer term before, but I think that an exception could be made in these. . . exceptional circumstances. Now, I think we have your Muggle friend to get back to."

Dumbledore picked up a slip of paper and wrote a note, tying it to the leg of an owl that he'd gotten from somewhere that Lex couldn't see. Or maybe he'd turned one of the books on the desk *into* the owl. Lex wouldn't have doubted anything at this point.

After the owl flew out the window, Dumbledore stood. "Shall we?"

"Excuse me, Albus," the Hat interrupted. "I'd like a moment to speak to Alexander alone."

"All right." Dumbledore, Snape and Harry left, leaving Lex alone with the Hat.

"First, I want to talk to you about the four Houses of Hogwarts. That's been my raison d'etre, occasions when I'm sent to sort out things like this are the exception rather than the rule. There was this time when the Patil twins switched places . . . but I'm getting away from myself.

"Where was I? Ah. The noble histories of the Houses. Since Hogwarts began, over a thousand years ago, students have been separated into four Houses - Gryffindor . . ."

"Yes, you mentioned them earlier, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. Your parents were both members of Gryffindor House, as was Harry. Members of Gryffindor House are characterized by their courage. Slytherin House is where the most ambitious of wizards and witches end up. Severus was a member of Slytherin House, and he's their current Head of House today. Ravenclaw is for those who love learning, and Hufflepuff is for those who are loyal - who value their friendships above everything else."

Lex listened to the Hat, easily putting Clark in all of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff in his mind. On the other hand, there was only one house for him, as much as it pained him to admit it.

"Don't pout like that. It'll give you wrinkles." The Hat admonished him. "Now, I was at a difficulty for you, which is why I didn't mention it before.

"Which do you think is your defining trait, Alexander? Or more to the point, which would you *like* to be your defining trait? Ambition, bravery, intelligence or loyalty?"

Lex thought for a moment. He'd been raised to be ambitious, but he'd also chosen to put most of that aside when Clark changed his life. He hoped he was capable of bravery, particularly if by being brave, he could help Clark, but he doubted it could ever be his defining trait. Likewise with loyalty; he was loyal to one thing only - Clark. Which left . . . "Intelligence."

He could hear the hat smiling. "That's what I thought. You get that from your mother's side. I almost put her in Ravenclaw, too."

"Which is the 'too,' putting me in Ravenclaw, or *almost* putting me in Ravenclaw?"

"I'm putting you in Ravenclaw. After you leave here, ask Albus to introduce you to your Head of House."

Lex was speechless. He'd fully expected the Hat to sort him into Slytherin. Though, he could see himself in a House like Ravenclaw. His curiosity and desire to learn never abated, which had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.

"Well? Cat got your tongue?" The Hat demanded.

"Thank you. I just. . . I expected . . ."

"I know. But your housemates would have eaten the eleven-year-old Alexander Luthor alive. Now, one more thing before you go join the others."

"Yes?"

"You might want to talk to your young friend Clark about the depth of your feelings for him. Facing Voldemort is a dangerous proposition, and I think you'll feel better about the things that are coming if you've cleared the air about your feelings for him."

***

"No." Ron corrected himself. "They can't be brothers. Harry was just barely a year old when James and Lily Potter died. There would have been no time for them to have had another baby."

"Unless their two sons were twins?" Clark hazarded.

Ron's jaw dropped. "How old is Lex?"

"He turns 25 on July . . ."

"31." They finished together.

"Harry's birthdate, too."

It began to rain outside, and the only sound in the room for a long moment was the pattering of the rain against the window. Gradually, a steady tapping pattern emerged from the splatting rain.

"Oh!" Ron said as he stood and crossed to the window. "It's one of the school owls."

Ron opened the window and brought the owl inside, removing a piece of paper from around its leg. The owl hopped along the windowsill, coming to rest behind the perch where Pig sat. Ron absently fed the owl a treat while reading the note.

"Well, they're done talking to your friend Lex, so we're supposed to meet them downstairs in the Great Hall."

Clark stood and together they left Ron's apartments.

They walked through the same hallways they'd taken to Ron's apartments, only this time, Clark tried smiling at the paintings as they walked, and instead of vague, uneasy paranoia, Clark got smiles in return.

Sooner than he expected, they walked down the hallway where he had last seen Lex ascending the moving staircase to Professor Dumbledore's office, and then off back down through the foyer and through a massive set of double doors.

The room on the other side of the doorway added new meaning to the terms large, and lofty. Clark looked up towards what he expected to be the stone rafters of the room, to find that it was painted a soft gray color, just the shade of the clouds that seemed to hang over Scotland every day since they'd arrived. Then he noticed that the decoration was moving ever so slowly.

"It's charmed, or so they tell me." Lex said, approaching him. "Matches the sky outside. Supposedly it's really something to see on clear nights."

Clark grinned. "How'd things go with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape?"

"Actually, I have someone to introduce you to." Lex looked around, then walked away for a moment.

He returned with another person in tow, whom Clark recognized from the photo on Ron's apartments. "Clark this is. . ."

"Harry." Clark supplied. "Your brother."

Lex blinked twice. "Yes. How did you . . . . Never mind. Yes, he's my brother. My twin, in fact."

Clark looked over at Ron, and they shared a grin.

"We knew it!" Ron said triumphantly.

Harry met Lex's eyes. "Class valedictorian. Full-ride university scholarship. Mensa membership." Lex said, explaining the level of Clark's intelligence.

"Chess grandmaster. Wizarding *and* Muggle." Harry responded with a grin.

"Why did we need to talk to Dumbledore at all? Maybe we should have just let *them* figure it out for us." Lex grinned back.

"Harry! Alexander!" Dumbledore called from across the room.

The quartet walked over to Snape and Dumbledore, who had been joined by a witch in a black robe every bit as severe as Snape's.

"Alexander, this is Minerva McGonagall, Assistant Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration. Transfiguration is one of our core courses; one which you will need if you are to earn your Hogwarts diploma this summer."

"Lex?" Clark inquired.

Lex looked at him calmly. "It's my heritage, Clark. One that's been taken from me. And if they're good enough to offer . . . ."

"That's fine." Clark hastened to assure him. "I was just surprised."

Dumbledore continued. "I have also called Professor Flitwick, our Charms professor, to come down to meet us. You'll be working with him this summer, as well."

Together, Lex and the professors began to lay out a plan for Lex's Hogwarts education.

"And, we'll need to assign you a House, so you know who to root for in the Quidditch matches." Dumbledore winked.

"The Sorting Hat has beaten you to it." Lex informed them with a smile. "He said it was Ravenclaw."

"Ah. My own house." A voice behind Lex said, and Lex turned around and looked . . . down into the eyes of one of the strangest men he'd ever seen.

"Filius Flitwick, Charms professor." The small man introduced himself.

"Lex Luthor."

Flitwick seemed to regard the omission as insignificant. "Harry Potter's long-lost twin, and our emergency summer student. I must say I'm surprised the Hat would put you in Ravenclaw. Nearly all of the Potters, and Lily Evans herself, were Gryffindors."

"Well, the Hat told me that it was a difficult decision, and my f - Lionel Luthor's influence didn't help things. I figured that the Hat would've wanted to put me in Slytherin because of him."

"Houses? Ravenclaw? What?" Clark asked.

"Our student body is divided into four Houses," Dumbledore began. . . .

***

Later, after they'd finished setting up Lex's schedule, the group retired to let the house elves prepare the Great Hall for dinner.

Harry approached Lex and Clark. "Why don't I take you on a tour of the grounds? We can catch up; get to know each other."

Lex looked at Clark to see if Clark minded spending time with his long-lost brother. When Clark nodded his acquiescence, it made Lex a little angry. Of course he's fine with sharing me with Harry. He's always fine with sharing me. What if I don't want to share myself with anyone but him?

"Are you all right?" Clark asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Lex reassured him unconvincingly.

Clark knew better than to try to wheedle it out of him, so together, they headed for the foyer.

As they stepped into that cavernous expanse of corridor, though, Lex stopped. "No. I'm not fine. I need to talk to you privately, Clark."

Harry and Clark both seemed surprised by this, but Harry just said, "I'll wait for the two of you outside?"

"Thanks," Lex said to his twin.

After Harry was safely out of hearing distance, Lex pulled Clark to one side of the foyer. "You know that you're my best friend, right?"

Clark nodded. "You're my best friend, too. You always have been."

Lex leaned forward, as if somehow he could psychically press down on his words and give them more force than with his voice alone. "You're more important to me than anyone else I've ever known. More important than my mother, more important than my father."

When Clark didn't respond, he continued. "I guess that makes sense. What's the Bible verse? The one about a man leaving his mother and father . . . . I'm babbling now. I've never been any good at talking about things like this," he turned to leave.

Clark shook off the stunned expression long enough to grab Lex's hand and drag him back around to face him. "Lex," he said softly, silently urging Lex to look into his eyes.

As if he were afraid of what he'd see there, Lex looked up slowly.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Lex nodded. "I wouldn't have said anything. I mean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but the Sorting Hat told me. That I should talk to you about it. About us."

Clark stopped Lex's confession with his mouth. Making a sound that was a cross between a moan and a whimper, Lex brought his left hand up to cup Clark's right jaw and kissed him back with everything he had in him.

"Come on, you two!" Harry called out, "there's plenty of time for snogging later."

"Snogging?" Clark asked.

"Yeah. Kissing. What we were just doing."

"Ah. Well, how about one more for the road, then?"

The two young men brought their heads together for one last kiss before heading towards Harry.

"You two act like newlyweds," Harry said jokingly.

Clark blushed and looked down at his feet.

"Actually, I guess we are," Lex responded, clearing his throat.

Harry blinked, "But I thought you two were an established couple."

"The attraction's been there for a long time, for me at least," Lex saw Clark nod his agreement, "but I guess I always figured there'd be time for it later."

Clark and Lex grinned at each other stupidly for a while.

"You seem all right with your twin brother being gay," Clark said.

"I still spend the majority of my time in the Muggle world, but I've been part of the wizarding world too long to feel any Muggle prejudices. You see, in the wizarding world, same-sex unions are perfectly accepted."

"Really?"

Harry nodded. "I just went to the wedding of one of Ron's and my old friends, Hermione, to Ron's sister, Ginny."

Lex and Clark gaped at each other. "Wedding?" Lex asked.

"Oh, yes. Same-sex couples have all of the rights of opposite-sex couples. Marriage, adoption, inheritance . . . ."

"Well, it looks like we'll be staying," Lex said, taking Clark's hand in his own.

"Come on, I'll show you around the school," Harry said as he led the new couple outside.

"This is the Quidditch field," Harry said as they rounded the corner. "The spectators sit up there in those stands, since the game is played on broomsticks."

"Flying broomsticks?" Clark asked with a chuckle.

"Actually, yes," Harry answered, killing Clark's smile immediately.

"You'll have to know something about Quidditch to get along," Harry said authoritatively, "It's played on broomsticks, and there are three kinds of balls. Wait here a second."

Harry disappeared into a shed at the end of the field, returning a moment later with a box, which he placed on the ground at Clark's and Lex's feet.

He opened the box. "Seems like just yesterday, Oliver Wood was giving me this lecture. All right, there are seven people on a Quidditch team -- a Keeper, three Chasers, they try to get this ball," Harry pulled a red leather ball out of the case, "through the goals. There are two Beaters; they try to stop these balls," he indicated two black metal balls. "I'll leave them strapped in; last thing we need is one of you two getting injured. I had my arm shattered by one of these once. Anyway, the Beaters try to stop the Bludgers from hitting their own team's players by hitting them back towards the other team's players."

Harry sighed blissfully. "Now this, *this* is the Golden Snitch." With unmistakable joy on his face, he released the tiny winged ball from its bonds. It shot directly up into the air, then arced around, hurtling past Clark's ear. Without thinking, Clark reached up and grabbed it out of the air.

Harry looked like he was going to faint.

"Um, Clark?" Lex asked, "We're going to have to talk later, aren't we?"

"Yeah. It's about time we had that talk anyhow," Clark answered, as the tiny ball continued to wiggle in his hand.

Finally, Harry found his voice, "That was really something else."

"Clark does that kind of thing a lot," Lex interjected.

"Have you ever thought about playing Quidditch?"

Clark gave Harry a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

"He's not a wizard, Harry."

"I know. It's the equipment that's enchanted, though. If you ever want to try your hand at it, you'd be a natural."

"I don't think so," Clark answered regretfully. "I'm starting in a Muggle college in the fall."

"College?" Harry looked at Lex for explanation.

"University. Metropolis University, specifically."

"Oh. Well, if you ever change your mind."

"Thanks, but I don't think I will."

Clark handed the Snitch back to Harry, who put it back in its box.

"You know, my mother -- our mother -- used to tell me stories about a game just like this," Lex said after Harry had returned the balls to their shed. "The team that catches the Snitch wins, right?"

"Normally," Harry grinned, "though it has been known for a team to win on points with the other team catching the Snitch. Happened in the Quidditch World Cup back in . . . 1994."

"But the game doesn't stop until someone catches the Snitch, right?"

Harry nodded.

The trio continued their walk in silence, as Lex was clearly mulling something over in his head.

"Are there," he stopped, embarrassed, "are there wizards who can turn into animals?"

Harry came to a complete stop. "Yes. Yes, there are. Witches, too. They're called animagi."

"Animagi," Lex repeated, "plural of animagus?"

Harry nodded.

"What about Moony, the Reluctant Werewolf?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that. Yes, there is a werewolf who goes to extremes to avoid hurting people."

"And his three best friends were animagi?"

Harry nodded.

"Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," the twins said together.

"And the Snake?"

"Snake?"

"Yes, the Snake that loved Moony, but that Padfoot hurt."

Harry stopped walking entirely, looking at Lex very seriously. "Snape loved Remus?"

Belatedly, Harry realized that he'd given too much away, "Sorry, I mean . . ."

Lex ignored Harry's slip. "So they're all people; real people I mean."

"Yes. Though Prongs is dead now. He was our father. Padfoot, too."

"Do you choose the animal you turn into?" Lex asked.

"I think the animal chooses you," Harry answered.

Lex nodded.

"Why? Thinking about it?"

"Trying not to imagine what kind of animal I'd turn into. A rat? A vulture? A scorpion?"

"A peacock."

"Are you telling me that I'm vain?"

"No, I'm telling you that you're incredibly handsome, and that you have every reason to be proud of yourself." Clark kissed him thoroughly.

"All right you two. Break it up. We've got twenty minutes before supper, so on the way back to the castle, I'll take you through the gardens and show you some of the plants you should be avoiding."

A quick lecture on strangleweed and carnivorous ewer-plants later, Harry took them past the greenhouses. "Lots of dangerous plants in here. I'll have to ask Sprout to give you the tours of those, though. Herbology was never an especial talent of mine."

When they reached the Great Hall, they were immediately accosted by a hairy man easily twice Lex's height. "You must be Alexander Potter. You look just like yer mum." The giant swept Lex up in a fierce hug.

"Hagrid," Harry interrupted patiently.

"Oh." The giant, whose name was Hagrid, apparently, hastily dropped Lex onto the ground. "Rubeus Hagrid, gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor. I had the pleasure of knowing yer parents when they were students here."

Lex shook Hagrid's hand. "I'm happy to meet you." Privately he paged through his mother's bedtime stories for anyone like Hagrid to no avail.

Speaking of his mother's bedtime stories, Snape sidled up to him then and asked, "How are you holding up, Potter?"

"Lu -- " Lex had been about to correct him, but then it hit him. Who was he? Lex, the son of Lionel Luthor, or Alexander, the son of James Potter? Would it be possible to be both?

Dumbledore approached them. "I had Hagrid bring your bags," his gaze took in both Clark and Lex, "up to one of our guest suites. Hagrid or Harry can take you up there after dinner." As the elderly wizard said this, serving plates and bowls appeared on the table.

Lex and Clark both gaped at it a second, until Harry stopped them, "I know; it's like magic, isn't it?" He grinned at the other two.

The three non faculty members stepped up to the table, where four chairs were set opposite Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick.

They sat, Lex in the middle and Harry and Clark to either side. The fourth chair was to Clark's right, and he was pleasantly surprised when Ron sat down in it.

"You want to sit next to Harry?" Clark offered.

"No. I want to sit next to you. I've known Harry for going on 12 years now, but you and I have just met. I also figured that they'd ply Lex with questions, trying to figure out if he's ever learned any magic on his own."

"He couldn't have. Could he?"

Ron shrugged as he picked up a bowl of mashed potatoes and spooned some onto this plate. "It's pretty common with muggle-borns, and even though neither Harry nor Lex are technically muggle-borns, they were both raised in the Muggle world. Usually, they experience a seemingly unexplainable escape from imminent danger. That you know of, has that ever happened to Lex?"

"No. Actually," Clark chuckled, "he seems to have an unexplainable attraction for danger. His own father, I mean, Lionel Luthor, seems to always know how to find him and how to hurt him, he's been stalked by two members of his household staff, he got married twice, both to 'black widow' types, you know, she marries rich men for their money then kills them," he paused. "Let's see, about a month after he arrived in Smallville, a disgruntled ex-employee took him hostage, he got taken hostage by a crazy lady who thought she was my biological mother . . ."

"How did he survive all that?"

"Lex is pretty tough."

"Why do I get the feeling there are things you're not telling me?"

Clark tried to look as guileless as possible and shrugged, all the while thinking, I was there nearly every time. I wonder if Lex's magic called me to him?

He forced himself away from that line of thought until he could wrap his brain around the idea of telling Lex *how* he'd managed to save his friend time after time.

Ron seemed to sense the change in Clark's mood. "Well, since you're new to the wizarding world, why don't I tell you a little about the history of Hogwarts?"

***

After dinner, Clark, Lex, Harry and Ron walked up towards the suite that Clark and Lex would be sharing.

About halfway up a long flight of stairs, Ron turned to Clark. "I have to send an owl. You want to come with to the owlery?"

Clark looked ahead to where Lex and his twin were deep in conversation. "Sure." He shrugged.

They took the next fork, continuing to walk upwards.

"How did you meet Lex?"

"The first time?"

Ron grinned, "The first time?"

"Yeah, well, we kind of keep running into each other. Literally."

"Literally?"

"Well, I'm adopted, and my parents were bringing me home for the first time," he hedged, "it was the day Lex lost his hair. He'd been in an accident, and his father ran out into the street in front of the truck my parents were driving. My folks picked them up."

"How old were you?"

"Lex was nine; I was four."

"So how did you meet the second time?"

"More cars, this time his. I was standing on a bridge and he was answering his cell phone going 60. He hit me, and I rescued him." Belatedly, Clark realized the caliber of confession he'd just made.

Ron seemed not to notice that Clark had just admitted to being invulnerable, "You do that a lot, don't you? Rescue Lex?"

"Yeah," Clark admitted.

They had emerged into an open room at the top of the castle.

"Wow," Clark breathed as his eye scanned the countryside beyond.

"The second-highest point in the castle," Ron said knowledgeably. "The only point higher is the astronomy tower, which has a well-deserved reputation as a make-out spot," Ron said this with a pointedness that was hard to miss. "It's that tower over there," he indicated a much, much taller tower with a nod of his head.

"Thanks," Clark grinned. "How can I get there, if I were interested?"

"Ask for directions. Most of the portraits are pretty helpful, plus there's some of the ghosts. Nearly-Headless Nick is the Gryffindor ghost. He's pretty approachable by any of the Houses, plus since Lex is a Ravenclaw, you might try asking the Grey Lady for directions."

"Ghosts."

"Let me guess. You don't believe in ghosts."

"There's not much I don't believe in anymore," Clark said as Ron pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill pen and began to write.

"Good. Always keep an open mind," Ron said in what Clark figured was his best professorial tone.

Ron signed the note with a flourish, then attached it to the leg of an owl. "Hermione Granger-Weasley," he said to the owl moments before it took off.

"Your sister-in-law?"

Ron nodded, "she, Harry and I were pretty much inseparable while we were students. I thought she might like to know that Harry has a brother, and perhaps she and Ginny could come for a visit.

"So, why don't I show you to your room?"

***

Harry and Lex stopped in front of a portrait of a man with long, black hair and a long, black moustache. Lex looked behind himself, noting that he and his brother were alone in the hallway.

"Where are Ron and Clark?"

Harry shrugged, "There's no reason to worry. Ron and he probably just made some kind of side trip or something. Ron knows where your rooms are. They'll catch up."

They gave the password, Square Candies that Look Round, to the portrait and went in.

"Have a seat," Lex invited his brother, as he pulled out his cell phone.

"That won't work here."

Lex looked at him curiously.

"No Muggle technological devices work here. Well, a few do. We have indoor plumbing, and analog clocks work, things of that sort. But I know for a fact that won't work."

"I have a business to run. How'm I supposed to do that?"

"You just have to get off school property. And stay out of Hogsmeade, actually. The road just outside the gates should be fine."

Lex sighed and put the cell phone back.

***

Later that night, after Ron and Harry had taken their leave, Lex examined their quarters, which, fortunately, came with its own en-suite accommodations. "This suite has only one bedroom," he said as he returned to the sitting area.

Clark, hurt, asked, "Is that a problem?"

Lex smiled more widely than he'd expected to. It was good to know that Clark still felt the same way about him. "No. It most certainly isn't."

"So come over here. I think it's time we had that talk."

Lex sat on the sofa next to Clark.

"I've wanted to tell you this so many times, but the timing was usually wrong. Or my parents had just given me a lecture about it, or . . . ," his rambling cut off when Lex kissed him.

Before Clark knew what had hit him, he was on his back on the sofa, Lex's hand up under his shirt.

"Le-e-e-x," Clark moaned, then upon realizing that he'd been distracted from his purpose, "Lex!"

Clark slid out from underneath Lex, until he was sitting on the arm of the sofa. "We need to talk."

Lex looked up at him, lightly disgruntled, then sat up, "So talk."

Clark stood and began to pace. "You know I'm a Muggle, well, I'm not sure if the word Muggle can be applied to me, because I think it's a term for humans, I'm not human, Lex, I'm not from Earth at all, I'm from a planet called Krypton that was destroyed centuries ago, and my biological parents sent me to Earth to keep me safe, I landed in a field not too far from where you were when the meteors hit, and that's why you lost your hair. Because of me."

Before Clark's final word was out of his mouth, Lex was on his feet, pulling Clark to him. "I thought it might be something like that. Thank you for telling me." Then he began kissing him.

Clark pulled back. "You're not mad?"

"Mad?"

"Well, I've known for four years and haven't told you and . . ."

"You've known for only four years?"

"Yeah. Since the day you hit me on the bridge."

If Lex hadn't been sitting down, he would have collapsed. "Your parents didn't tell you until then? My God. No wonder you had trouble telling me. You barely had time to get used to the idea yourself." He held out his hands, gesturing for Clark to join him on the sofa.

***

The next day, Harry took Lex and Clark to Diagon Alley, to shop for Lex's school supplies.

Clark, unsure what the effects Floo Powder would be on his alien anatomy, ran cross-country to London, where Harry, who had Apparated, and Lex, who had traveled by Floo, joined him outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"See?" Was Lex's greeting to his boyfriend as they stepped into the pub together, "I told you it wasn't just a storage room."

Clark shut him up by kissing him, prompting a few scattered catcalls and whistles from the patrons of the pub.

Harry led the couple to the back of the pub and as he counted off the bricks, Lex said, "You won't believe what's behind this wall."

The bricks parted and Harry led Lex and Clark into a whole new world.

It was, just as Lex had said, beyond belief. Just like he'd glimpsed in Hogsmeade, white plaster and dark wood buildings with projected upper stories lined both sides of the narrow cobblestone street. But where Hogsmeade had been sleepy and bucolic, this street was bustling with activity. Rather like the pictures he'd seen of the Shambles in York. Only most of the people were dressed in either period costume or in wizards' robes with pointed conical hats.

As Clark watched, an owl flew in through an open shop window, as another owl flew out.

At least, he thought it was a different owl. It looked different. But for all he knew, the shop was in the business of turning one kind of owl into another.

They went first to Ollivander's to get Lex a wand. Mr. Ollivander measured Lex carefully, bemoaned his lack of foresight in not getting a third of Fawkes' feathers, before deciding on a sphinx-feather core, sphinx being a cousin to the phoenix.

It took a few tries to find the correct outer wood, but finally Mr. Ollivander settled on elm.

Lex tried at first to pay in Muggle money, but Harry quickly explained that James had left them quite well-off in Wizarding terms. Lex made a mental note to make arrangements for his inheritance from Lily to be split with his newfound twin.

So, his new elm wand with sphinx-feather core in one hand, Clark's hand in the other, Lex followed Harry to Flourish & Blott's for some of the more up-to-date versions of the textbooks he'd be using through the summer.

On their way to lunch, Clark saw something invisible to the human eye, but with a heat signature, heading for Lex. Instinctively, he reached out and stopped it with his hand. A painful, burning sensation raced up his arm, spreading rapidly through his body, and he collapsed into darkness.

the rest of it