"Stand By Your Mactus" - Chapters 1 & 2
"Stand By Your Mactus"
Characters/Pairing: Harry Potter, Original Male Character
Genres: Adventure, Comedy, Erotica, Romance, Fluff
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Adult Language, Slash, Graphic Sex, Work In Progress
Summary: Some things that happened during "The Order of the Phoenix" that you were not aware of.
Spoilers: PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, Perhaps HBP
Disclaimer: All characters (except Aidan Agrandir) property of JK Rowling.
Expert and patient beta work by KoshWeasley and Wolfiekins
~~~~ONE~~~
“AIDAN AGRANDIR! What the hell are you still doing up? Do you have any idea what time it is!”
Aidan jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of his mother’s exasperated voice. “Sorry.” He turned, grinning sheepishly at her, where she was standing by the open door of his room. “I just got really involved here.”
“Well, I don’t want to hear about it when you miss your bus in the morning!” she grumbled, and then smiled indulgently. “Did you even once move from behind that computer all weekend?”
“I went out for a while Saturday night,” Aidan answered, logging off.
“Sweetie, a half-hour trip to Staples for a new toner cartridge does not constitute ‘going out for a while Saturday night.’” His mother chuckled, entering the room. “Some day I’m going come in here and find that you’ve been absorbed into that computer. Just like the Borg.”
“Resistance is futile,” Aidan informed her in his best monotone.
She snickered. “What are you working on, anyway?”
“Uh - Research. Sociology project,” Aidan stammered. “The - uh - long-term effects of attending a British boarding school - uh - as opposed to pubic school here in the states.”
(Yeah - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry versus Anyhighschool USA.)
“Dear God in heaven.” His mother shuddered. “My son is such a nerd.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Aidan yawned, hugging his mother. “Don’t laugh at the nerd sitting next to you. Some day he’ll own the company you work for.”
“Uh huh. That’s right.” She kissed his forehead, and tugged playfully on a lock of his long red hair. “Provided he doesn’t sleep through the alarm.”
Aidan wondered vaguely before dropping off to sleep what she would think if she knew that the whole weekend, and countless others over the last year or so, had been spent bouncing around amongst numerous Harry Potter slash fan fiction archives. Nobody knew about the “slash” aspect of his private life, and he wasn’t ready to change that.
______________________________________
Aidan could tell that the sun was shining in his face before he even opened his eyes.
Oh, shit! Not only did I miss the bus, I probably missed first period too! He groaned, rolling over onto his stomach.
His eyes flew open when he realized that his face was resting on grass, instead of his pillow.
He jumped to his feet, ignoring the ensuing head rush. How the hell did he get outside?
And what was he doing on the edge of a forest?
Surely, that wasn’t a castle over across that field….
….that field which looked for all the world like a....
Oh, come on…….
Get a grip, Aidan!
That is NOT a Quidditch pitch!
Suddenly, he understood. ‘Boy, this is some dream.”
He snickered, looking down at his apparel. No, he couldn’t just have one of those “Oh, no, I’m naked, and nobody else seems to notice” dreams, like normal people do.
Man - he was really over the top this time. Even when he dressed goth deliberately, to go out clubbing, he never combined ALL of these elements at once, in the same outfit. He looked like an S&M poster boy.
Black long-sleeved t-shirt, tucked into low rise leather pants, with the handcuff belt he’d found at Hot Topic. Black lace up knee boots and his studded leather collar. The combination fingerless gloves and wrist braces that laced halfway up his forearms.
He hardly ever removed the wrist braces. He was on the computer so much, they were probably the only thing keeping him from carpal tunnel syndrome. It was a stroke of good luck that he’d found these, embossed with the Dragon Knight symbol - two snakes, one silver and one gold, curled around a sword. In addition to being really cool, they were much more effective, and much less cumbersome, than the usual carpal tunnel braces that people wore.
Each side of his hair was caught up in a narrow braid, both of which were tied back with the usual strip of black leather. Everyone told him that he resembled a small, red-headed Legolas, so he always wore his hair the way that his favorite LOTR elf did. Go with your strengths, “they” always said.
He looked around, considering what to do next. Should he go see if he could find anyone at the castle? Should he hide in the forest and watch, until he could determine what this place was? Should he just lie down and go back to sleep, hoping that he woke up in his own bed? Should he click the heels of his boots together and exclaim “Oh, Auntie Em, there’s no place like home!”
The decision was suddenly taken out of his hands.
“Expelliarmus!”
The voice came from behind him. He turned to see who was yelling at him, and was shocked beyond words. Three people he recognized immediately stood staring at him, all of them with varying levels of disbelief and/or disgust on their faces.
He sighed. This was the exact reason his mom was always suggesting he might want to tone down his goth look just a bit.
________________________
Professor Dumbledore could sense the Gryffindor Trio approaching his office long before they reached the gargoyle.
WHUMP!
“Ron! Be careful with him!” Hermione snapped.
“Let’s just get him to Dumbledore’s office,” Ron grumbled.
“Well, that’s the third time you’ve bashed his head against something,” Harry stated hotly. “I’m sure Dumbledore would rather he didn’t have a concussion.”
Amid much shoe scuffling and muttered curses, the group reached the bottom of the revolving stairway.
“Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans”
“Reeces Cups”
“Sugar Quills”
“Canary Creams”
“M&Ms”
“Jolly Ranchers”
“Ah, good morning.” Albus began his descent, cutting short their attempts to guess this week’s password. “What can I do for y…oh, my. What have we here?”
All three began to simultaneously bombard him with information.
“We found him wandering around just outside the Forbidden Forest,” Harry began.
“He knew who we were!” Hermione stated excitedly.
“We’ve never seen him before!” Ron interjected. “I think he’s a Death Eater!”
“Silence,” Dumbledore held up a hand, forestalling any further conversation.
Floating in mid-air along side Ron Weasley was a young man about the same age as the trio. Slightly smaller than Harry, he had long, thick auburn hair, and enormous, deep brown eyes, which were darting back and forth, following the conversation from speaker to speaker. He’d been very securely bound with magical ropes.
“Was all this REALLY necessary?” Dumbledore asked, beginning to maneuver the bound boy up toward his office. “I hardly think this will make our guest feel welcome.”
“Guest? But sir, he looks dangerous! I mean, he’s wearing leather wrist braces with snakes on them! How Slytherin is that?” Ron sputtered. “And look at his shirt! He’s advocating the starvation of animals!”
“Oh, honestly, Ron!” Hermione rolled her eyes. “’Skinny Puppy’ is a muggle music group!”
“Well, he couldn’t explain why he was here, or even how he got here,” Ron refused to be talked out of his mistrust. “And he wouldn’t turn over his wand!”
“Ron, he said he didn’t HAVE a wand,” Harry ground out in frustration. He stayed close by the bound boy, making sure that his head didn’t come into contact with any other hard surfaces.
By now they had reached Dumbledore’s office. “Let’s allow this young man to speak for himself, shall we?” Albus ended the Silencio and Featherweight charms, as Harry assisted the bound boy into a standing position.
“Harry! Watch out! I still say this could be a trap!” Ron said sharply.
Harry scowled, spelling away the magical ropes. Aidan stumbled slightly once he was released, and promptly fell into Harry’s arms.
“Sorry,” He blushed, meeting Harry’s eyes.
DAMN! All the fan fiction description on the entire internet couldn’t have prepared him for the effect that looking into those emerald orbs would have on him. Breathe, Aidan. Thaaaaat’s right.
“Are you okay?” Harry knew that he’d eventually have to release the redhead he was holding in his arms, but couldn’t seem to find the motivation to do so.
Aidan nodded, swallowing with great difficulty.
The two boys continued to maintain eye contact, suddenly unaware of the others in the room. Albus finally cleared his throat and Harry, startled from his distraction, directed Aidan toward Dumbledore’s desk.
“Hello, Professor Dumbledore.” Aidan extended his hand toward Albus. “My name is Aidan Agrandir. Erm......I’m sorry to just show up here unannounced.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Agrandir,” Dumbledore answered with both a handshake and a smile. “What brings you to Hogwarts?”
Wow - he really does twinkle. “Well…sir, you might want to get some veritaserum, because you’re not going to believe a word I say.”
~
~~~~TWO~~~
Dumbledore sat in stunned silence as Aidan finished his story. The Headmaster was a good enough Legilimens to know that the young man was being completely truthful with him.
“So, how many books are there, all together?” Dumbledore asked.
“There will be seven when she finishes the series,” Aidan answered. “The sixth one was just released about a month and a half ago. And so far, three of the six books have been made into movies.”
“I see. One book for each of Harry Potter’s seven years at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore nodded.
“Yes.” Aidan looked concerned. “And, I’m having a bit of trouble pin-pointing exactly where we are now, in relation to where the books have left off.”
“Mr. Potter and his friends will be starting their fifth year at the end of the summer,” Dumbledore responded. “Does that help?”
“Yes! We’re right before the beginning of “The Order of the Phoenix!” Aidan was growing excited. “Sir, this is wonderful news! There are things I can tell you that would change-”
“Please, don’t.” Dumbledore held up a hand. “That might be a grave mistake.”
Aidan sighed dejectedly. “I KNEW you were going to say that.”
“As tempting as it may be to try and alter the future, Aidan, it’s a very dangerous road to start down,” Dumbledore told him gently.
Aidan felt the waves of disappointment wash over him. He could never convey to Dumbledore how important they all were to him. They were like family. Or, at least as much as a group of fictional characters could be.
Although, since he was sitting here talking to them, perhaps they weren’t so fictional after all. Either that, or he had just completed the final turn of his inevitable journey around the bend. The jury was still out at this juncture.
“I was sort of hoping that was my reason for being here. Maybe I could actually help you to avoid some horrible things,” Aidan told him wistfully. “What I know about your future is the only thing I have to offer you. Otherwise, I’m just another clueless muggle that you’re probably going to obliviate.”
Albus could feel the boy’s misery washing over him like a tidal wave, the force of it actually making his head spin. It took every bit of his resolve to stop himself from plumbing the depths of Aidan’s mind. The only thing that stopped him was the certainty that going down this path could very well set off an even more devastating chain of events than what the gods may have already predestined. The best course of action was to leave to Their care the things They were meant to orchestrate. The things he would learn, if he gave in to his desire, were not his to know.
In the meantime, he would be glad to play the cards that were revealed in his hand.
“Oh, I can tell you exactly why you’re here, Mr. Agrandir. And it certainly does not involve obliviation.” A flick of the Headmaster’s wand caused the office door to open suddenly, revealing the very startled dark haired wizard pacing back and forth just outside. “Please join us, Mr. Potter.”
Harry blanched. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude, or try to listen to a private conversation,” Harry stammered, blushing furiously. “Honestly, I couldn’t hear anything through the door.” He spoke to Dumbledore, but his eyes were locked with Aidan’s. “I just…well….Merlin, this is going to sound so stupid…” he trailed off, running his hand through his messy hair.
“You found yourself, for some unfathomable reason, unable to walk away from this room?” Dumbledore asked, the twinkle back in place.
“Yes,” Harry nodded, sighing with relief. “I thought I was going crazy.”
Dumbledore gestured for Harry to take a seat. He dropped into the chair beside Aidan.
“Mr. Agrandir, are there any wizards in your family?” Dumbledore asked.
“Not at all,” Aidan answered.
“Are you aware that you yourself possess magical abilities?”
Aidan’s eyes, if possible, became even more enormous.
“I have no doubts about this whatsoever,” Dumbledore smiled at the boy’s surprise.
“He knows everything, Aidan,” Harry patted his shoulder. “You may as well get used to that.”
The two boys smiled at each other. Dumbledore could see that the emotional connection between them was already almost tangible. The results of his unobtrusive scan of Aidan’s magical core could not be denied. It was time to enlighten the poor boy.
“Mr. Agrandir, you are what is known as a Mactus. What that means is you have the ability to magnify, or drastically increase, the raw power of another wizard, simply by being in physical contact with him or her.”
Aidan, reeling with the impact of this news, remained silent.
“It’s a very rare gift, Aidan, and is usually only manifested when there is an extreme evil which needs to be vanquished.”
“Like now,” Harry murmured, staring off into space.
“Indeed,” Dumbledore answered. “There are times when the power necessary to defeat a great evil is unable to reside permanently in just one wizard. The human body can’t house such a force indefinitely.”
“The wizard trying to hold that much power would…spontaneously combust?” Aidan asked.
“That’s an excellent way to describe it, yes.”
“So…..the…..the “powers that be”……send someone to help when it becomes necessary,” Harry supplied.
“Exactly,” Dumbledore nodded.
“This is kind of like increasing the size of your hard drive,” Aidan murmured distractedly.
“I’m sorry?” Dumbledore inquired.
“Erm…” Aidan blushed. “Sorry, sir. Muggle analogy.”
Harry, who had listened often enough to Dudley’s whining about the need to upgrade his computer, laughed out loud. “I think you’re right.”
Dumbledore grew silent, allowing the two boys to digest this information. Before long, Aidan broke the silence.
“Sir, I don’t mean to argue with you, but this is so far beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. Are you absolutely certain?”
“Well, Aidan, here’s another piece of information that might help you feel better about this.” Dumbledore slipped into “professor” mode. “The term ‘Mactus’ comes from the Latin word “Macto,” which means ‘to magnify.’”
Aidan nodded, not sure where Dumbledore might be going.
“Do you know the origin of your surname?” he asked.
“I know it’s French,” Aidan answered. “That’s about it.”
“Yes, indeed.” Albus smirked slightly. “’Agrandir’ is a French word which also, ironically enough, translates to-“
“Let me guess,” Harry supplied. “Magnify!”
Aidan felt dizzy. Despite the fact that being suddenly transported into the middle of the Harry Potter world would be his ultimate fantasy come true, he was fairly sure it could not take place without the help of recreational and/or pharmaceutical substances, a sharp blow to the head, or a significant brain chemistry imbalance.
“Professor, did you have the help of a Mactus when you defeated Grindewald?” Harry asked.
“Yes, Harry, I did,” Albus answered quietly. “And I can tell you that Mr. Flammel’s magical core, and the color of his aura, was almost identical to that of Mr. Agrandir.”
Aidan gasped, closing his eyes.
“And - I can also tell you that I would never have succeeded without Nicholas.”
Aidan suddenly found himself with a whole new understanding of terms like ‘hyperventilate,’ ‘anxiety attack,’ and his step-father’s all-time favorite, ‘shit hemorrhage.’
(‘I don’t know nuthin ‘bout killin’ no dark lords!’ he whimpered internally, picturing himself in a doorag.)
“Please believe me, I’m more than willing to do whatever I can to help,” Aidan’s voice was shaky. “But I don’t have the first idea of how to go about that.”
“Your part is surprisingly simple,” Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. “All you need to do is make certain that you’re in some sort of physical contact with Mr. Potter when he casts a spell.”
Both boys looked skeptical.
“Perhaps a small demonstration is in order.” Dumbledore reached into his desk drawer, withdrawing a small, fuzzy yellow sphere with the word “Wilson” embossed on the side. Aidan, suddenly assaulted with a mental picture of Dumbledore and Fawkes playing “fetch” when nobody else was around, bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“Harry, I’d like you to levitate this for me, using a very mild wingardium leviosa.”
Harry, reaching for his wand, did as his Professor asked, lifting the ball about a foot off of the desk. He held it in mid-air for a few seconds, and then set it gently back down in place.
“Now, Harry, I’m going to ask you to duplicate you efforts exactly, only this time, with Mr. Agrandir touching you.”
Aidan and Harry looked at each other. Hesitantly, Aidan reached out and grasped Harry’s forearm.
Harry swallowed, and then murmured the words to the spell.
Immediately, the tennis ball, like a yellow streak, shot across the room as though it had been fired from a cannon. After ricocheting from wall to floor to ceiling six or seven times, it finally exited the room, smashing through the leaded glass window.
“Reparo.” Dumbledore waved his wand absently, and turned back to regard the two stunned boys. “Now, your abilities to work together effectively will increase in direct proportion to the amount of time you spend together,” Dumbledore told them. “As will Mr. Agrandir’s regular magical abilities.”
He may as well have been discussing the menu for dinner that evening. “You mean there’s more than just the Mactus gift?” Aidan gasped, still trying to recover from the out-of-control tennis ball.
“Certainly, Mr. Agrandir. As you can imagine, we have much to accomplish in the next few months.”
~
Characters/Pairing: Harry Potter, Original Male Character
Genres: Adventure, Comedy, Erotica, Romance, Fluff
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Adult Language, Slash, Graphic Sex, Work In Progress
Summary: Some things that happened during "The Order of the Phoenix" that you were not aware of.
Spoilers: PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, Perhaps HBP
Disclaimer: All characters (except Aidan Agrandir) property of JK Rowling.
Expert and patient beta work by KoshWeasley and Wolfiekins
~~~~ONE~~~
“AIDAN AGRANDIR! What the hell are you still doing up? Do you have any idea what time it is!”
Aidan jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of his mother’s exasperated voice. “Sorry.” He turned, grinning sheepishly at her, where she was standing by the open door of his room. “I just got really involved here.”
“Well, I don’t want to hear about it when you miss your bus in the morning!” she grumbled, and then smiled indulgently. “Did you even once move from behind that computer all weekend?”
“I went out for a while Saturday night,” Aidan answered, logging off.
“Sweetie, a half-hour trip to Staples for a new toner cartridge does not constitute ‘going out for a while Saturday night.’” His mother chuckled, entering the room. “Some day I’m going come in here and find that you’ve been absorbed into that computer. Just like the Borg.”
“Resistance is futile,” Aidan informed her in his best monotone.
She snickered. “What are you working on, anyway?”
“Uh - Research. Sociology project,” Aidan stammered. “The - uh - long-term effects of attending a British boarding school - uh - as opposed to pubic school here in the states.”
(Yeah - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry versus Anyhighschool USA.)
“Dear God in heaven.” His mother shuddered. “My son is such a nerd.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Aidan yawned, hugging his mother. “Don’t laugh at the nerd sitting next to you. Some day he’ll own the company you work for.”
“Uh huh. That’s right.” She kissed his forehead, and tugged playfully on a lock of his long red hair. “Provided he doesn’t sleep through the alarm.”
Aidan wondered vaguely before dropping off to sleep what she would think if she knew that the whole weekend, and countless others over the last year or so, had been spent bouncing around amongst numerous Harry Potter slash fan fiction archives. Nobody knew about the “slash” aspect of his private life, and he wasn’t ready to change that.
______________________________________
Aidan could tell that the sun was shining in his face before he even opened his eyes.
Oh, shit! Not only did I miss the bus, I probably missed first period too! He groaned, rolling over onto his stomach.
His eyes flew open when he realized that his face was resting on grass, instead of his pillow.
He jumped to his feet, ignoring the ensuing head rush. How the hell did he get outside?
And what was he doing on the edge of a forest?
Surely, that wasn’t a castle over across that field….
….that field which looked for all the world like a....
Oh, come on…….
Get a grip, Aidan!
That is NOT a Quidditch pitch!
Suddenly, he understood. ‘Boy, this is some dream.”
He snickered, looking down at his apparel. No, he couldn’t just have one of those “Oh, no, I’m naked, and nobody else seems to notice” dreams, like normal people do.
Man - he was really over the top this time. Even when he dressed goth deliberately, to go out clubbing, he never combined ALL of these elements at once, in the same outfit. He looked like an S&M poster boy.
Black long-sleeved t-shirt, tucked into low rise leather pants, with the handcuff belt he’d found at Hot Topic. Black lace up knee boots and his studded leather collar. The combination fingerless gloves and wrist braces that laced halfway up his forearms.
He hardly ever removed the wrist braces. He was on the computer so much, they were probably the only thing keeping him from carpal tunnel syndrome. It was a stroke of good luck that he’d found these, embossed with the Dragon Knight symbol - two snakes, one silver and one gold, curled around a sword. In addition to being really cool, they were much more effective, and much less cumbersome, than the usual carpal tunnel braces that people wore.
Each side of his hair was caught up in a narrow braid, both of which were tied back with the usual strip of black leather. Everyone told him that he resembled a small, red-headed Legolas, so he always wore his hair the way that his favorite LOTR elf did. Go with your strengths, “they” always said.
He looked around, considering what to do next. Should he go see if he could find anyone at the castle? Should he hide in the forest and watch, until he could determine what this place was? Should he just lie down and go back to sleep, hoping that he woke up in his own bed? Should he click the heels of his boots together and exclaim “Oh, Auntie Em, there’s no place like home!”
The decision was suddenly taken out of his hands.
“Expelliarmus!”
The voice came from behind him. He turned to see who was yelling at him, and was shocked beyond words. Three people he recognized immediately stood staring at him, all of them with varying levels of disbelief and/or disgust on their faces.
He sighed. This was the exact reason his mom was always suggesting he might want to tone down his goth look just a bit.
________________________
Professor Dumbledore could sense the Gryffindor Trio approaching his office long before they reached the gargoyle.
WHUMP!
“Ron! Be careful with him!” Hermione snapped.
“Let’s just get him to Dumbledore’s office,” Ron grumbled.
“Well, that’s the third time you’ve bashed his head against something,” Harry stated hotly. “I’m sure Dumbledore would rather he didn’t have a concussion.”
Amid much shoe scuffling and muttered curses, the group reached the bottom of the revolving stairway.
“Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans”
“Reeces Cups”
“Sugar Quills”
“Canary Creams”
“M&Ms”
“Jolly Ranchers”
“Ah, good morning.” Albus began his descent, cutting short their attempts to guess this week’s password. “What can I do for y…oh, my. What have we here?”
All three began to simultaneously bombard him with information.
“We found him wandering around just outside the Forbidden Forest,” Harry began.
“He knew who we were!” Hermione stated excitedly.
“We’ve never seen him before!” Ron interjected. “I think he’s a Death Eater!”
“Silence,” Dumbledore held up a hand, forestalling any further conversation.
Floating in mid-air along side Ron Weasley was a young man about the same age as the trio. Slightly smaller than Harry, he had long, thick auburn hair, and enormous, deep brown eyes, which were darting back and forth, following the conversation from speaker to speaker. He’d been very securely bound with magical ropes.
“Was all this REALLY necessary?” Dumbledore asked, beginning to maneuver the bound boy up toward his office. “I hardly think this will make our guest feel welcome.”
“Guest? But sir, he looks dangerous! I mean, he’s wearing leather wrist braces with snakes on them! How Slytherin is that?” Ron sputtered. “And look at his shirt! He’s advocating the starvation of animals!”
“Oh, honestly, Ron!” Hermione rolled her eyes. “’Skinny Puppy’ is a muggle music group!”
“Well, he couldn’t explain why he was here, or even how he got here,” Ron refused to be talked out of his mistrust. “And he wouldn’t turn over his wand!”
“Ron, he said he didn’t HAVE a wand,” Harry ground out in frustration. He stayed close by the bound boy, making sure that his head didn’t come into contact with any other hard surfaces.
By now they had reached Dumbledore’s office. “Let’s allow this young man to speak for himself, shall we?” Albus ended the Silencio and Featherweight charms, as Harry assisted the bound boy into a standing position.
“Harry! Watch out! I still say this could be a trap!” Ron said sharply.
Harry scowled, spelling away the magical ropes. Aidan stumbled slightly once he was released, and promptly fell into Harry’s arms.
“Sorry,” He blushed, meeting Harry’s eyes.
DAMN! All the fan fiction description on the entire internet couldn’t have prepared him for the effect that looking into those emerald orbs would have on him. Breathe, Aidan. Thaaaaat’s right.
“Are you okay?” Harry knew that he’d eventually have to release the redhead he was holding in his arms, but couldn’t seem to find the motivation to do so.
Aidan nodded, swallowing with great difficulty.
The two boys continued to maintain eye contact, suddenly unaware of the others in the room. Albus finally cleared his throat and Harry, startled from his distraction, directed Aidan toward Dumbledore’s desk.
“Hello, Professor Dumbledore.” Aidan extended his hand toward Albus. “My name is Aidan Agrandir. Erm......I’m sorry to just show up here unannounced.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Agrandir,” Dumbledore answered with both a handshake and a smile. “What brings you to Hogwarts?”
Wow - he really does twinkle. “Well…sir, you might want to get some veritaserum, because you’re not going to believe a word I say.”
~
~~~~TWO~~~
Dumbledore sat in stunned silence as Aidan finished his story. The Headmaster was a good enough Legilimens to know that the young man was being completely truthful with him.
“So, how many books are there, all together?” Dumbledore asked.
“There will be seven when she finishes the series,” Aidan answered. “The sixth one was just released about a month and a half ago. And so far, three of the six books have been made into movies.”
“I see. One book for each of Harry Potter’s seven years at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore nodded.
“Yes.” Aidan looked concerned. “And, I’m having a bit of trouble pin-pointing exactly where we are now, in relation to where the books have left off.”
“Mr. Potter and his friends will be starting their fifth year at the end of the summer,” Dumbledore responded. “Does that help?”
“Yes! We’re right before the beginning of “The Order of the Phoenix!” Aidan was growing excited. “Sir, this is wonderful news! There are things I can tell you that would change-”
“Please, don’t.” Dumbledore held up a hand. “That might be a grave mistake.”
Aidan sighed dejectedly. “I KNEW you were going to say that.”
“As tempting as it may be to try and alter the future, Aidan, it’s a very dangerous road to start down,” Dumbledore told him gently.
Aidan felt the waves of disappointment wash over him. He could never convey to Dumbledore how important they all were to him. They were like family. Or, at least as much as a group of fictional characters could be.
Although, since he was sitting here talking to them, perhaps they weren’t so fictional after all. Either that, or he had just completed the final turn of his inevitable journey around the bend. The jury was still out at this juncture.
“I was sort of hoping that was my reason for being here. Maybe I could actually help you to avoid some horrible things,” Aidan told him wistfully. “What I know about your future is the only thing I have to offer you. Otherwise, I’m just another clueless muggle that you’re probably going to obliviate.”
Albus could feel the boy’s misery washing over him like a tidal wave, the force of it actually making his head spin. It took every bit of his resolve to stop himself from plumbing the depths of Aidan’s mind. The only thing that stopped him was the certainty that going down this path could very well set off an even more devastating chain of events than what the gods may have already predestined. The best course of action was to leave to Their care the things They were meant to orchestrate. The things he would learn, if he gave in to his desire, were not his to know.
In the meantime, he would be glad to play the cards that were revealed in his hand.
“Oh, I can tell you exactly why you’re here, Mr. Agrandir. And it certainly does not involve obliviation.” A flick of the Headmaster’s wand caused the office door to open suddenly, revealing the very startled dark haired wizard pacing back and forth just outside. “Please join us, Mr. Potter.”
Harry blanched. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude, or try to listen to a private conversation,” Harry stammered, blushing furiously. “Honestly, I couldn’t hear anything through the door.” He spoke to Dumbledore, but his eyes were locked with Aidan’s. “I just…well….Merlin, this is going to sound so stupid…” he trailed off, running his hand through his messy hair.
“You found yourself, for some unfathomable reason, unable to walk away from this room?” Dumbledore asked, the twinkle back in place.
“Yes,” Harry nodded, sighing with relief. “I thought I was going crazy.”
Dumbledore gestured for Harry to take a seat. He dropped into the chair beside Aidan.
“Mr. Agrandir, are there any wizards in your family?” Dumbledore asked.
“Not at all,” Aidan answered.
“Are you aware that you yourself possess magical abilities?”
Aidan’s eyes, if possible, became even more enormous.
“I have no doubts about this whatsoever,” Dumbledore smiled at the boy’s surprise.
“He knows everything, Aidan,” Harry patted his shoulder. “You may as well get used to that.”
The two boys smiled at each other. Dumbledore could see that the emotional connection between them was already almost tangible. The results of his unobtrusive scan of Aidan’s magical core could not be denied. It was time to enlighten the poor boy.
“Mr. Agrandir, you are what is known as a Mactus. What that means is you have the ability to magnify, or drastically increase, the raw power of another wizard, simply by being in physical contact with him or her.”
Aidan, reeling with the impact of this news, remained silent.
“It’s a very rare gift, Aidan, and is usually only manifested when there is an extreme evil which needs to be vanquished.”
“Like now,” Harry murmured, staring off into space.
“Indeed,” Dumbledore answered. “There are times when the power necessary to defeat a great evil is unable to reside permanently in just one wizard. The human body can’t house such a force indefinitely.”
“The wizard trying to hold that much power would…spontaneously combust?” Aidan asked.
“That’s an excellent way to describe it, yes.”
“So…..the…..the “powers that be”……send someone to help when it becomes necessary,” Harry supplied.
“Exactly,” Dumbledore nodded.
“This is kind of like increasing the size of your hard drive,” Aidan murmured distractedly.
“I’m sorry?” Dumbledore inquired.
“Erm…” Aidan blushed. “Sorry, sir. Muggle analogy.”
Harry, who had listened often enough to Dudley’s whining about the need to upgrade his computer, laughed out loud. “I think you’re right.”
Dumbledore grew silent, allowing the two boys to digest this information. Before long, Aidan broke the silence.
“Sir, I don’t mean to argue with you, but this is so far beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. Are you absolutely certain?”
“Well, Aidan, here’s another piece of information that might help you feel better about this.” Dumbledore slipped into “professor” mode. “The term ‘Mactus’ comes from the Latin word “Macto,” which means ‘to magnify.’”
Aidan nodded, not sure where Dumbledore might be going.
“Do you know the origin of your surname?” he asked.
“I know it’s French,” Aidan answered. “That’s about it.”
“Yes, indeed.” Albus smirked slightly. “’Agrandir’ is a French word which also, ironically enough, translates to-“
“Let me guess,” Harry supplied. “Magnify!”
Aidan felt dizzy. Despite the fact that being suddenly transported into the middle of the Harry Potter world would be his ultimate fantasy come true, he was fairly sure it could not take place without the help of recreational and/or pharmaceutical substances, a sharp blow to the head, or a significant brain chemistry imbalance.
“Professor, did you have the help of a Mactus when you defeated Grindewald?” Harry asked.
“Yes, Harry, I did,” Albus answered quietly. “And I can tell you that Mr. Flammel’s magical core, and the color of his aura, was almost identical to that of Mr. Agrandir.”
Aidan gasped, closing his eyes.
“And - I can also tell you that I would never have succeeded without Nicholas.”
Aidan suddenly found himself with a whole new understanding of terms like ‘hyperventilate,’ ‘anxiety attack,’ and his step-father’s all-time favorite, ‘shit hemorrhage.’
(‘I don’t know nuthin ‘bout killin’ no dark lords!’ he whimpered internally, picturing himself in a doorag.)
“Please believe me, I’m more than willing to do whatever I can to help,” Aidan’s voice was shaky. “But I don’t have the first idea of how to go about that.”
“Your part is surprisingly simple,” Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. “All you need to do is make certain that you’re in some sort of physical contact with Mr. Potter when he casts a spell.”
Both boys looked skeptical.
“Perhaps a small demonstration is in order.” Dumbledore reached into his desk drawer, withdrawing a small, fuzzy yellow sphere with the word “Wilson” embossed on the side. Aidan, suddenly assaulted with a mental picture of Dumbledore and Fawkes playing “fetch” when nobody else was around, bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“Harry, I’d like you to levitate this for me, using a very mild wingardium leviosa.”
Harry, reaching for his wand, did as his Professor asked, lifting the ball about a foot off of the desk. He held it in mid-air for a few seconds, and then set it gently back down in place.
“Now, Harry, I’m going to ask you to duplicate you efforts exactly, only this time, with Mr. Agrandir touching you.”
Aidan and Harry looked at each other. Hesitantly, Aidan reached out and grasped Harry’s forearm.
Harry swallowed, and then murmured the words to the spell.
Immediately, the tennis ball, like a yellow streak, shot across the room as though it had been fired from a cannon. After ricocheting from wall to floor to ceiling six or seven times, it finally exited the room, smashing through the leaded glass window.
“Reparo.” Dumbledore waved his wand absently, and turned back to regard the two stunned boys. “Now, your abilities to work together effectively will increase in direct proportion to the amount of time you spend together,” Dumbledore told them. “As will Mr. Agrandir’s regular magical abilities.”
He may as well have been discussing the menu for dinner that evening. “You mean there’s more than just the Mactus gift?” Aidan gasped, still trying to recover from the out-of-control tennis ball.
“Certainly, Mr. Agrandir. As you can imagine, we have much to accomplish in the next few months.”
~