A Small Small World: A Prequel to Mutant Son
Summary: Albus Dumbledore comes to an old friend, Charles Xavier for a favor. He must locate Voldemort's son and evaluate the threat. But St. John Allerdyce lives under Xavier's own roof. Xavier tries to convince his friend that eighteen year old Pyro could go either way. All he needs is a chance.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and X-Men to Marvel. Spoilers for X1 and X2 and all the HP books. Lines taken directly from X2 are in italics.
Warnings: Dark topics, mentions of child abuse. Pre-slash even if barely suggested at. You will really only notice if you've read my other story. Warning for that story: a lot darker, strong language, definite slash (Pyro/Harry) though not terribly explicit.
A.N. A one-shot prequel to Mutant Son that was sort of running around my head. There's a lot of information that isn't new from both my story and from the X-Men movies and Harry Potter books. I hope that I show my view of Albus Dumbledore, as a good man if not perfect, who was forced to hurt people he cared about because so much more was at stake. It also shows Xavier's view on Pyro (at least in my story) and why he was not quite surprised by his student's betrayal. As a result, you will get an introduction to my characterization of Pyro, of course based on very limited resources.
A Small Small World
"It's good to see you, Albus," Charles said as he drove his wheelchair towards his old friend to shake his hand.
"And you, Charles. It's been too long," Albus sent one of his trademark smiles, twinkle still clear in his eyes even after all those years. Charles's eyes landed on Albus's damaged hand, a rather gaudy ring sitting on his ring finger. The hand looked dead.
Albus followed his line of vision. "Ah, yes. Even the best of us sometimes give in to temptation. And there are always consequences for those of us that do."
Charles gestured to a seat. Albus sat. "Can I offer you tea?"
He politely declined. "Have you heard from Erik?" Albus asked. While he had never been as close to Erik as he had been to Charles, he had still viewed the mutant as a friend. Albus had always been somewhat weary of Erik, Charles remembered. And for good reason as the years had shown. Years ago he asked Albus why he was weary of Erik. Albus had reluctantly told him that Erik reminded him of someone he knew in his younger years. Surely there was more to the story than that.
Charles hesitated in answering. How would Albus take it? "Unfortunately yes." Albus looked at him curiously. "The last few years have been a difficult time for mutants," he sighed. "Erik hasn't helped. He nearly killed one of my students in a crazy plan to cause mutations in humans. He was arrested, of course. It caused a great deal of issues for us, I can assure. Then last year, he broke out of prison. I must admit that it was, in a way, quite fortunate. Without him, every mutant in the world would be dead." Albus looked at him. He always knew when there was more to a story. He sat back, waiting for Charles to continue. "It's a long story but a man with government connections and a grudge against me and mutants in general used me to connect to every mutant's mind."
"What did Erik do?" Albus asked. Yes, he knew Erik would not sit back and take it.
"Erik turned Stryker's plan against him, almost manipulating me into killing all the humans in the world instead. Did you not feel the attack?" Charles had always wondered about the genetic make-up of wizards. Would they fall under the human category? Perhaps not. He had never come across wizards in Cerebro.
"No," Albus responded. "I suppose we have our answer, then. There are three types of humans walking our world." He appeared fascinated by the idea. It was Albus's curiosity which often drew Charles to him. Of course, Albus also had a rather charismatic personality, much like Erik.
"Yes, I suppose we do." Charles continued his story. "Unfortunately Erik used my X-Men to pull it off, leaving us to die, thirteen of my students as well. Jean did not make it." He took a moment to recollect himself. "We have lost Erik to his cause, I fear."
Albus nodded. "That was the way it was always going to go, my friend. I am sorry for your loss. Jean was an exceptional woman." He appeared regretful but like a man that had hoped for the best only to be let down. "He continues to remind me of my old friend," he went on.
"The one you told me about years ago." Charles had to admit, he was curious. Albus rarely shared anything about his past though he did hear quite a bit about those Albus was particularly fond of. Charles remembered a night fifteen or sixteen years ago when Albus appeared at his school, as close to distraught as Charles was ever going to see him. Two of his favorite students, now friends, had been murdered, leaving an orphan son behind. Albus seemed to mourn their son Harry as much as the parents. He had told Charles that the boy had been forced into a future war already. He said that the boy would save them all. Charles hadn't understood but that was often the case when the wizarding world was involved.
"Yes. He was the last dark lord before Tom. He was not evil but he believed he was doing the right thing." Albus peered at him. "It is always easier in cases of black and white. Tom is evil, no doubt about it. But in this war we also face children caught up in the war and adults who never stood a chance."
He was speaking in the present tense. "The war? I thought it was over."
"No." Again Albus looked sad. "It was only a long reprieve. Tom attempted to return for years. He was stopped by Harry Potter, a mere boy." Albus's voice was incredibly proud. He truly felt for this boy. "One night, Harry could not prevent it. Voldemort rose again and the second war is now being waged full force."
"And Harry Potter continues to be at the center of it?" Charles asked. It was too much for a boy so young. How old was he now? Seventeen?
The fond look fell from Albus's face, replaced by sadness. "I wish it wasn't so. That boy has come to mean so much to me. But he has a destiny to fulfill."
"Do you not think you ask too much from him?"
"Harry is an exceptional boy even at sixteen." Albus's sadness mixed again with pride. "He is brave, smart, and powerful, even if he has yet to realize it. The boy has traits from both his mother and father. I've barely had to guide him."
"Guide?" Charles asked cautiously. "Albus, he is a boy. You cannot shape him to be a warrior. Doing so will only lead to trouble. You cannot risk the boy. You also risk yourself."
"I guide him, Charles," Albus responded. "I do not shape him. Do I allow him to face danger so that he is prepared? Yes, but I never intend to leave him facing it without me to interfere. Harry is headstrong and throws himself into danger. He always surprises me. I fear that I am constantly a step behind him. He attracts trouble to him but luck often is on his side. At a great cost, I fear.
"Harry has shaped himself into a fighter, not I, and slowly into a leader. The only thing holding him back is his insistence on being normal. It's what makes him exceptional if it also hinders him. But Harry will always do the right thing, just as his mother and father before him. He knows sacrifice."
Albus wasn't lying. He watched out for Harry even if he guided him into war and perhaps lied to him on a few points. Albus was not a perfect man. He was a chess player like Erik. He moved his pieces into place. The difference between Albus and Erik was Albus's commitment to serving the wizarding world. To do the right thing even if he had to slip into those areas of grey to get it done. But one thing bothered Charles.
"Albus, what do you mean by sacrifice?" He wished he could read Albus's mind but the man was too strong. It was nice to know that greater power than him existed in this world. Charles never wanted to lose himself to his own power. It was something he battled with everyday. That was why he set so many rules for himself.
"Harry Potter will die in this war, one way or another," Albus admitted but he took on a rather cryptic tone. "It is up to him whether to continue or move on."
Charles decided not to ask. It would be another thing he wouldn't understand. He wasn't a proud man but even he disliked when his mind was not strong enough to grasp at such things. Charles no longer had his legs, but his mind was one thing he thought would not fail him.
"This is not a social call, is it Albus?" Charles finally asked, giving Albus a small smile. Albus chuckled. No, Charles would never let Albus get away with his games with him. Albus enjoyed a good challenge.
"No, I am looking for a favor," Albus admitted brightly. "I have a man inside the Death Eaters, trusted even by Tom. He came to me last week with surprising information." Charles waited patiently. "Tom has a son and is looking quite hard for him. I do not know the circumstances around the boy's conception but I do know where he's from and who he was raised by."
"Then why do you need my help?" Charles asked. It seemed as if Albus could handle this himself.
"The boy disappeared around five years ago," Albus continued. "He apparently ran away. I imagine his home life was quite difficult. The man who raised him does not seem like a friendly man." Charles didn't like he was suggesting. He could never understand how a parent, how anyone, could hurt a child.
"You need me to use Cerebro," Charles guessed.
"Yes," Albus smiled at him. "The boy is from Australia. I imagine he should still be there somewhere. He should be eighteen, almost nineteen. His name is St. John Allerdyce."
Charles paused. That name was not just familiar. In fact, he had an essay by said boy sitting on his desk. He had passed it around to a few of his students as an example of what their work should look like, though St. John would not like it in the least. St. John the son of an evil wizard? And Australian? Charles couldn't believe St. John managed to hide that from him. His New York accent was impeccable though there were many things you can learn on the streets in two years, Charles supposed. Finally, he laughed.
"There is something funny?" Albus asked confused. "Personally, I think he has quite a good name, not at all amusing really."
Charles smiled at Albus. "I do not need to use Cerebro to track him down," Charles informed him. He wouldn't admit to enjoying this. At least not out loud. "In fact, I believe he is currently sleeping off quite a hang over a few floors above us." He didn't approve of St. John's drinking but trying to stop him would only make it worse, it could even drive him away and into Erik's waiting arms, so to speak. Bobby Drake could not know how much Charles appreciated his watching over St. John, no matter the fights they got into regularly.
Albus stared at him for a few moments. "I believe this is what the muggles refer to when they say it is a small world." He laughed. "Small world indeed."
"Do you need to speak to him?" Charles asked. It made him nervous, however. St. John was already convinced that he was born wrong. He did not need this.
"No," Albus told him. "As long as you can keep him safe, he does not need to know." Charles didn't like the idea of hiding things from him either. He already hid too much from others like Logan and, once, Jean. "Charles, sometimes the truth is not all that it seems." Yes, Charles knew that. It would do well not to tell St. John unless they had to.
"But you are sure that he is Tom Riddle's son?" Charles asked.
Albus nodded. "It is a blessing that he never had the chance to raise the boy." He couldn't know how large of a blessing, however. "Can I ask about him?" Albus continued. "I fear I do worry about the boy's state of being. It was already too late by the time I met Tom. He is what muggles would refer to as a psychopath, I would say. Though an orphan, he was not treated badly. Many have had it worse. All evidence points to St. John being one such person."
Charles had to agree. While St. John never discussed it, Jean and he did not need more than a few x-rays to know the abuse he suffered under his father's hands. It was only further proven by his initial distrust of men, though Charles knew enough of St. John's mind to know additional factors contributed to that distrust. That being said, St. John also found it easier to come to develop relationships with men, an unfortunate result of his mother's abandonment. The only people at the mansion he freely admitted to liking was Charles, Scott, and, of course, Bobby. Sometimes Charles even worried about his dependence on Bobby. Love could so easily be turned to hate.
"St. John is indeed troubled," Charles began. "But he is in no way a lost cause. He fights every day to overcome the person he perceives himself to be."
"And what is that?" Albus asked, something in his eyes.
"I hear one phrase constantly in his head," Charles told him. "His mother's son. And a fear deep down that he'll end up like his father, too. While St. John often displays a great deal of anger and a dubious sense of morality, he has great potential."
"Dubious sense of morality?" Albus asked again.
"He disregards rules, even laws," Charles said, unable to keep some fondness out of his voice. "What makes him a danger, however, is two things. He has no view of right and wrong when it comes to his own survival. He'll kill. I believe he has, however accidental. But even if an accident, he would have intended to harm. He can convince himself to not feel remorse for it."
"The other thing?"
"His hatred. I have seen such hatred in Erik and his partner Mystique. St. John is quite similar. He hates humans. Perhaps he's justified in a sense. St. John has never met a human that was kind to him. The only kindness he's ever seen is here, from mutants. What St. John does not seem to realize, however, is that he has only seen the worst of human kind, or the most ignorant."
Albus nodded, his face a little sad, but there was something calculating there, too. "I know how you feel about your students, Charles, but you must be honest. Is he a threat? I believe once Tom finds out his son is a mutant, his first instinct will be to kill him. But if he sees a weapon in St. John, Tom will utilize him. If he accepts his son, he will accept him as an extension of himself. Tom will take him under his wing if he does not kill him first."
That was indeed a thing to fear. As much as he liked St. John, Charles could not be blind. He blinded himself to Erik's threat but there was so much more at risk now. A whole world, as it was. "Yes," he finally responded. "St. John can be quite a threat. His ability to manipulate fire is a dangerous ability and one that he would not hesitate to use. A year and a half ago, during that incident with Stryker, St. John was one of the students involved. He and his friends managed to escape with one of the X-Men. They were faced with a squad of cops who were a bit…trigger happy I believe is the term. One shot Logan. They were rather lucky that Logan has unheard of healing abilities. St. John's friends were ready to surrender, but St. John does not know the meaning of the word. He attacked the cops. Viciously. No one died but the injuries sustained by a few of the cops were quite substantial, not to mention the damage he caused. And once started, he didn't stop. A friend of his-well that may be stretching the term-had to stop him."
"He gets caught up on his powers," Albus suggested.
"St. John's power is like an addiction in a way," Charles admitted. "And in a way, St. John is right. He does share similarities with his mother. He does have an addictive personality which has led to a love of power. His experiences have only made that love grow. But unlike his mother, St. John is strong."
"I know you will soon tell me of the good in St. John," Albus continued. "And I look forward to hearing it. But you must first finish telling me the bad, no matter how painful it is. A war cannot be won without understanding the moves available to the enemy."
"You and Erik speak of the world as a giant chess board." His tone was mildly scolding.
"As do you, my friend," Albus pointed out gently. "You just have a different method of playing."
Charles could not deny that. He sighed. His next words would be incriminating. "The girl who stopped St. John, Marie, told me what he had said before attacking the cops. These words make me worry every day." He paused. "He said: you know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on t.v? I'm the worst one."
The twinkle went out in Albus's eyes, pushing Charles to continue, to finish his account of the bad in St. John as quickly as possible. "Later, a friend of St. John's, this time a true friend, informed me of something else. Erik seemed to take a liking to St. John. I'm sure he saw the possibilities. He told St. John something so seductive to the boy that to this day he thinks about it. You're a god among instincts. Don't let anyone tell you different."
"A god?" Albus asked, eyes turning to his hands. Charles knew that Albus was imagining scenarios of all the potential damage St. John could do in the war.
"There were thoughts for a while traveling around his head of joining Erik, Magneto as he goes by now, by the way. Power more than anything drove that desire, along with his hatred and a need to fight for something outside of himself. Something he could stand for. St. John of course has not realized this motive but I can see it in his mind. He projects more than any other student I have had. But," this was where Charles had to save St. John in the mind of Albus. "Eventually his thoughts calmed. He began to think that Erik was causing more harm than good. That he was creating a war where there is none."
"As soon as a war between humans and mutants develop, he will join," Albus warned.
Charles nodded. "If nothing changes, yes. There is so much potential in him, Albus."
"You said the same of Erik," Albus reminded him. Yes, Albus never trusted Erik even if he liked him, viewed him as a friend. As for Erik, he always thought that Albus was too much like Charles. Sometimes Erik was blind to quite a bit. Albus fell somewhere between Charles and Erik.
"Yes, but we reached St. John so much earlier than I met Erik," Charles argued. "St. John was only fifteen when we found him. Almost nineteen now. He has already changed so much. With a good influence, he can be led to the right conclusions. One day he may indeed join Erik, but one day he may also be one of my X-Men. You know that people change. That they learn. With a friend like Bobby Drake he has already learned to trust, almost to love. Whether he knows it or not, St. John is love starved, desperate for someone to accept him no matter what. As much as Bobby cares and loves him, it is not enough and there is something about their personalities that will never fully get along." Xavier paused, motoring towards his desk. "Let me show you something." He grabbed the paper and returned to his place. "I've been using this as a sample essay for almost two years."
Albus looked down at it once he had the paper in his hands. "An essay on Martin Luther King?"
Charles nodded, smiling. "It is very complimentary of the man. I remember long debates with Erik over the civil rights movement. He always argued that Malcolm X had the right idea. In this paper, St. John, however, argues that violence can be detrimental to a cause and sometimes peace either alone or side by side with violence can offer the more effective solution, that the Civil War had led to bitterness and even greater hate in the south while civil disobedience led to gradual acceptance, if not yet complete."
Albus looked it over briefly. He returned Charles' smile. Albus too wanted to see the good in people. In fact, he looked for it. "Yes, I see the potential." He appeared contemplative. "You know, I think that St. John would make great friends with Harry." Charles listened to him curiously. "While of opposing opinions, they're similarities would benefit both. Harry has great hatred and one of the worst tempers I've seen. He has similar issues as St. John even if he has reacted to them differently."
"I see your point," Charles agreed. "One day we should introduce them to each other."
Albus nodded. The sparkle returned to his eyes. "Would you like to hear a bit more about Harry, some of his adventures? I promise you will be quite impressed." He waited for Charles' smile of approval. "There was this incident with a basilisk. Now Harry and his friends…"
It was the last time the two friends spoke, though they learned so much about each other's lives. Only a month later, Albus Dumbledore was killed. A few weeks after that, a group of Order members found their way to Westchester, looking for the boy Albus had worried so much about. But the group only looked to protect them. Two weeks later, Harry Potter and St. John Allerdyce had that meeting that Charles and Albus once hoped for. The results, well the results weren't quite what they expected, but that's a different story.