July 1987
Aaron woke up on a pile of blankets on the floor in Hagrid's hut. Fang was asleep next to him; warm and heavy. He choked. There was bile at the back of his throat. His head pounded and the room tilted. The summer punch had been strong and he'd had a lot of it.
But that wasn't the problem. The world had layers again.
Floating over Hagrid's living room was the Gryffindor common room. He closed his eyes. And shook. Not just his hands this time, but his whole body. It felt like his head was splitting.
Fang stirred and licked his face. Aaron kept his eyes closed and leaned against the dog.
Just breathe. You had way too much to drink last night.
He opened his eyes, but the layers didn't go away. He still saw the Gryffindor common room and now there was . . . a park? He saw trees, cut grass, and a footpath. He saw people walking through the room, like he could reach out and touch them.
He closed his eyes again. Fang whined, concerned.
Me too.
His ears rang with the sounds of voices. And traffic. Then he heard Fang again. The noises came fast; quick pieces of sound, like audio clips that had been cut into microseconds and strung together.
His mouth filled with saliva. Fang barked. It was abrasive against the split-second sounds of the cars and people.
A car horn blared and Aaron opened his eyes. He saw pavement. He felt it against his palms. Then it was gone.
He saw a classroom, but it wasn't any of the ones at Hogwarts. Then he saw the park again.
He heard Fang bark and saw the hut. He grabbed onto Fang and tried to steady himself, but Fang barked and ran into Hagrid's room.
Aaron saw Hagrid's living room, the park, a classroom, and a city street superimposed. He heard Hagrid's voice and could almost see him, but he was lost in the crescendo. Aaron doubled over on the floor, on the grass, on the pavement, and the blurred fragments of everything around him. He covered his ears with his hands.
Hagrid reached out and grabbed his shoulders. It made everything worse. The layers doubled and Hagrid was too . . . heavy. He shoved himself away from Hagrid. He saw the hut around them, a bed he'd slept in five years ago, and a red-haired man in a kitchen.
It's Arthur. Arthur Weasley.
Then Arthur was gone. He saw Hagrid again. And the bed. And a part of the Forbidden Forest he'd never been in. Pavement and a car coming at him. A park with people walking. A dark platform at a train station.
Arthur was there again. He knelt down in front of Aaron.
"Aaron, let go," Arthur said.
"Of what?!"
"Whatever you're holding onto," Arthur said, but he was gone again.
Hagrid. Fang. The park. The Gryffindor common room. The forest. The city street.
It was all so loud.
". . . hear me? Let go."
Hagrid. "Don't fight . . . "
Arthur. ". . . you'll tear apart if you . . ."
The park. The piercing sound of traffic. Fang barking.
"Aaron, let go."
The world folded in on itself and the air cracked.
Aaron appeared at The Burrow. He collapsed and retched on the tile floor, gasping.
What the fuck just happened?
Aaron dry heaved. Shaking, he held onto the tile floor.
The layers were gone. The sounds stopped.
Arthur reached for him, but he shoved himself away. He didn't want it to start again, and Hagrid touching him had made it worse.
"It's alright, Aaron," Arthur said.
"What's alright? What the fuck just happened to me?"
"The first time you use a portkey is always the worst, especially," he didn't want to say it, "if you're not very magical. And you held on too long. You were in both places at once. That is incredibly dangerous."
No, I was in a lot more than two places.
Aaron shook his head. "I . . . I didn't use a portkey."
A woman came into the kitchen. She looked at Aaron and Arthur on the floor, grabbed a bucket from beneath the sink, and ran a washcloth under the faucet. She bent down to hold the washcloth to Aaron's forehead, but he pulled away.
"It's alright, dear," Molly said. "You're safe here with us."
Aaron shook his head. "It gets worse when I touch people."
Arthur and Molly exchanged concerned glances. Molly put the bucket on the floor in front of Aaron and held out the washcloth. He took it, wiped his mouth, folded it over, and held it to his forehead, leaning back against the cabinets.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I . . . I don't know what happened. I don't even know where I am." He looked at Arthur. "Is this your house?"
"Yes," Arthur said. "This is Molly, my wife."
How the fuck did I get here?
"You probably found a portkey and didn't realize it," Arthur said.
"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur. There's not a portkey to our house at Hogwarts," Molly said. "He apparaited."
"He couldn't," Arthur said, "not with the wards."
Aaron threw up in the bucket. His vomit was the same color as the summer punch. He closed his eyes. His heart pounded in his ears.
Did I really just apparate? But then how the fuck did I get here? I never would have got past the wards. I've never even been here.
Bill came into the kitchen. "Aaron? What are you doing here?"
He wished he knew.
"He apparaited," Molly said.
"But he's never been here," Bill said.
"I know," Molly said, "but he did it all the same."
"He couldn't have," Bill said, "not with the wards. Had to be a portkey."
"That's what I said," Arthur said.
He opened his eyes. Arthur and Molly sat on the floor across from him. Bill leaned on the counter.
"There wasn't a portkey. I was at Hagrid's," Aaron said. "I woke up sick. I . . . saw layers, like the world was lapped over itself. It kept getting worse. I kept seeing all of these places. I was in all of these places. At the same time. I could hear people and cars and Fang barking, all at once. Some of the places I recognized, but I have no idea what else I was even seeing."
"You saw places before you jumped here? Not just in your mind? Places you've never been to?"
Aaron nodded.
"That's not a portkey," Arthur said.
"That doesn't even sound like apparition," Bill said.
The Weasleys doubled in his vision.
No, shite, there's the bloody park again. And the street with the cars.
"Fuck," Aaron said, "it's happening again."
"You see the . . . layers?"
He nodded.
"Focus, Aaron," Arthur said. "You have to be deliberate. If you apparate without control, you could kill yourself."
"Or lose a leg," Bill said.
"I'm not trying to fucking apparate," Aaron said. "I'm deliberately trying not to."
"But you still see the places?"
The park. The Gryffindor common room. The kitchen and the Weasleys. Hagrid's hut. A sink and a stained mirror. A tent in the woods. A dark train platform.
Aaron nodded. He couldn't control it. His body shook again, caught between multiple places. His fingers blurred as he pulled them to his head to muffle the abrasive sounds.
The city street. Dumbledore's office. A bakery.
He closed his eyes and grabbed the floor. It took everything he had to hold onto the tile. He was determined not to move and he couldn't even manage that. It was overwhelming. And exhausting. Whatever he was doing, it was draining his energy.
The Weasleys were yelling and reaching for him, but he couldn't see them anymore. He couldn't fight it anymore. Space folded and pulled him forward.
He appeared in the Gryffindor common room. He collapsed on the floor.
It wasn't over. He jumped again and fell onto a sidewalk in front of a brick wall topped with barbed wire. He leaned against the wall and dry heaved.
He vanished and appeared in the woods. He saw a tent, a fire, and Charlie, but then he was gone. He appeared in a library. It wasn't the one at Hogwarts. Another jump and he appeared at an apartment he had stayed at when he was nine. Another jump and he appeared at the payphone where Arthur had called his wife three years ago.
When the fuck is it going to stop?
Be deliberate. Be determined.
But I can't pick my fucking destination.
There were too many of them. He deliberately tried to see the Weasleys' kitchen again, but he couldn't hold onto it. He didn't know where it was and he wasn't familiar enough with it to keep the image in his mind. He couldn't even find Hagrid's hut or the Gryffindor common room again.
Aaron fell onto a train platform and rolled onto his stomach, shaking and exhausted. It was the same platform he had seen last night. Two faded utility lights flickered above the abandoned tracks.
Focus.
He felt the concrete under his palms. He looked at the train tracks.
Where the fuck am I now?
The air was stale. It smelled like a dead animal.
Aaron rolled on his back. And saw a severed, decomposed head.
Aaron screamed and pushed himself away, but there was more. A decomposed body was chained to a column. The blood had congealed a long time ago. It looked like something had chewed on the legs and torso. Aaron dry heaved and covered his mouth and nose with his arm.
Over the dead body, he finally saw the kitchen. He was deliberate. And determined to get away from the rotting corpse. He shifted into the illusion.
And appeared in the Weasleys' kitchen. He grabbed the floor.
"Make it stop!" He yelled, his body a blur.
Molly Weasley raised her wand. "Stupefy!"
Aaron collapsed on the tile floor.
