Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable characters living there. I am just borrowing them to tell this story. Summary: The Stranger meets the man who summoned him across the Atlantic, Albus Dumbledore, and starts to put the pieces together. A/N: I hadn't intended to end this chapter where it did. I wanted to continue with the conversation in Dumbledore's office. But, at the last moment, I decided that that conversation deserved its own chapter. So look for it in the next chapter.
He sat patiently for two hours. During that time he simply observed his new surroundings. The room itself seemed to have two distinct personalities. The first was as he saw it: a tavern filled with strange patrons. The second wasn't really a personality, but a lack of one: a room filled with dust covered crates that hasn't been occupied in a very long time. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was both here, in the tavern, and there, in the storage room. Weird didn't begin to cover how it felt. The patrons seemed to be normal, on first glance. As the time went on, however, he began to observe some strange occurances. He witnessed a man at one of the tables conjure a chair seemingly out of thin air when another man came to sit at his table. On the other side of the room an older woman made several towels appear instantly when she spilled her drink. Both had waved what could only be described as a "magic wand", and with a few muttered words that he could not hear, POOF! None of the other patrons seemed to take any notice. That seemed to leave only one conclusion: these were normal occurances here. It seemed that every person in this room was magically inclined to some degree. He could hardly believe it. For more than four years he had thought that he was the only one left. Not since the loss of his friend did he meet another magic-sensitive. Now he was in a room full of them. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. One of these people could be the next Dark One. Could he bring himself to enter the fray again after what it cost him the last time? He would just wait and see what fate had in store for him. The bartender, Tom, as he was referred to by several patrons, quietly refilled his drink twice. Tom just looked at him each time as if to guage whether he appeared affected by the contents of the drink. Each time he returned to the bar with a strange, almost perplexed look, on his face. It was shortly after the second refill that the stranger noticed a new person enter the tavern from the back hallway. He briefly wondered where the hallway led to. It probably led to the rooms that were undoubtably upstairs. The restroom facilities were probably also back there. This new person appeared to be very old, if his long, grey beard was any indication. His hair was equally long and hung loosely about his shoulders and back. He appeared to be wearing a set of deep blue robes which covered the man completely, with the exception of his head and hands. Even his feet seemed to be nonexistent beneath his flowing robes. The robes themselves appeared to be of the finest craftmanship that he had ever seen, especially when compared to the clothing that the other patrons were wearing. This new person seemed to stand out without even trying. His eyes, which were almost as blue as his robes, scanned the room briefly before settling on the stranger in the strange clothing. His nose, which was long and appeared to have been broken several times, held a pair of half-moon spectacles. These were no doubt meant for reading, as he didn't need them to see everything in the room. When he caught sight of the stranger he appeared briefly shocked. Evidently, the stranger wasn't what he was expecting. After only a moments pause, he approached the stranger's table. "May I sit here?" At a brief nod from the table's sole occupant, he pulled out a chair and sat. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Albus Dumbledore." He looked expectantly at his table- mate. "Name's Bryan Dunn. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand. Albus Dumbledore looked at the hand for the briefest of moments before he seemed to remember the significance of the gesture. He grasped the proffered hand and gave it a brief shake. He smiled at the reaction on Bryan Dunn's face. It seems that he didn't think that Albus would know what a handshake was. Well that just goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover. Albus caught Tom's attention and ordered the last thing that Bryan had expected: a Shirley Temple. He seemed to enjoy the glimpse of confusion. Good. I'm not what he expected either. Once he had taken a drink he saw no reason not to get to the point. "You'll excuse me if this sounds bad, but you weren't what I was expecting, Mr. Dunn." "Please, call me Bryan. How so?" He had expectations about me? Is he the reason I am here? Albus Dumbledore relaxed a little bit more. Bryan appeared as confused as he was. "Ok, Bryan, then I insist that you call me Albus. When I sent out the summoning spell, I expected someone much older. The power that the American Ministry had tracked bespoke of someone of great power and control. I didn't expect someone quite so young. You're something of a mystery, Bryan. You look and feel like a muggle, yet you do not seem the least bit affected by that drink of yours." Bryan gave Albus the first truly warm smile he'd felt in years. "Ah, so you're the reason I had the sudden urge to come to London. I'll admit I didn't have any preconceived notions as to why. I just gave up asking that question a long time ago. Speaking of which, I have a couple questions. One, what's a muggle? Two, what do you mean by the American Ministry? Three, why did you summon me?" Oh dear. It seems that he isn't who I thought he was. I'll give him a few more minutes, just in case. "Well, a muggle is what we call non-magic people. What you might call normal people. As for the American Ministry, that's a little more difficult. You see, the magical world is divided much like the muggle world. Each region has its own Ministry of Magic. Its function is the tracking and control of magic and its practitioners. It also acts to ensure that the muggle world remains oblivious to our existence. Each Ministry monitors all underage witches & wizards and notifies the appropriate schools when it finds them. When these witches or wizards are close to eleven, they are given the opportunity to attend a school that specializes in training them to be fully qualified members of the magical society. I, myself, am the headmaster of one such school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. My staff and I are sufficiently equipped to deal with normal witches and wizards. Once in a while, a student comes along that exceeds normal wizarding standards. I have one such student at Hogwarts. He's the reason I sent the summons." Bryan waited patiently while Dumbledore spoke, absorbing it all. He wasn't entirely sure what it all meant, but he was starting to get a basic idea. "So, basically, what you're saying is that there are witches and wizards all over the world? Why is it that I was unaware of this?" "As I said, we try to keep our existence a secret from muggles. If a muggle were to find out about us, what's to stop him or her from telling others, who, in turn, tell even more people. We must keep our existence a secret for our own safety." "That's the second time you have referred to me as a muggle. Why do you keep doing that? And if all this is a secret, why are you telling this 'muggle'?" Albus Dumbledore took another drink while he thought of the best way to answer that question. "Well, to be totally honest, you 'feel' like a muggle. By that, I mean that I sense no magic within you. I am hoping that I'm wrong about this, which is why I'm taking the chance." Finally they were getting somewhere. Bryan now understood why he's been getting strange looks ever since he walked in here. He was shielding, and these people can't read him through his shields any more than 'muggles' can. "Albus, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I am not a muggle. I learned that if I wanted any kind of normal life I had to shield, or block, my powers from other people. It seems that normal people, or muggles, are attracted to that power on a subconscious level. People I thought were my friends were acting on that subconscious attraction. It seems that my shield is also blocking you from reading those same powers. Let me turn down my shield." Almost as if he had created a loud disturbance, everyone turned to look at him the instant Bryan stopped blocking. Most of the patrons flinched when they sensed the sudden outpurst of power. Dumbledore relaxed visably. "Thank Godric. You ARE the person I was looking for. When we could no longer track you we figured you may have died. I sent the summons not really expecting to find anyone. When I received a response I was a little surprised. I was even more surprised when the spell informed me that you had come so quickly." Bryan became aware that he was starting to draw people's attention. He shielded again and everyone returned to their conversations, a little quieter than they had been a few moments before. Making a quick decision, he finished his drink and turned the glass upside down. He hoped that Tom would get the idea and not refill his drink. Albus sensing what he had in mind finished his drink as well and stood. "Shall we go someplace a little more private to continue our conversation? My office, perhaps?" "That sounds like a great idea, Albus. Lead the way." Bryan stood up and nodded a thank you to Tom and followed Albus. He was a little perplexed when he was led not to the door or the hallway, but to the fireplace. He took what appeared to be ashes from a small container and threw it into the fire. The fire immediately turned green and grew much higher. High enough in fact that Dumbledore could easily stand within it, which is exactly what he did. When he said "Dumbledore's office" he vanished. Bryan stood in front of the fireplace for a few moments wondering if he was expected to do the same thing. When nothing else happened he concluded that he would have to give it a shot. Reaching into the small container he took a small handful and threw it into the dying fire. It blazed up again. Taking a few calming breaths then stepped into the fire. Here goes nothing. "Dumbledore's office." Instantly, he felt like he was on a rollercoaster ride gone horribly wrong. He couldn't tell which way was up or down. All he saw was flashes of lights that appeared to be glimpses into other people's homes. Probably from their own fireplaces, he thought. After a few seconds, which felt much longer, he seemed to slow down until, finally, he was standing in a fireplace in what he assumed was Dumbledore's office. Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind a large oak desk and feeding something to a large red bird. "By the look on your face I see that was your first time travelling by floo-powder. I apologize for that. I am so used to travelling that way that I often times forget that some people don't know about it. You seem to have caught on to the basics well enough though. For that I'm grateful. Most people fall out of the fireplace their first few times. Please, have a seat." He gestured toward a chair in front of his desk. Bryan did so without comment. In fact, he was glad for the excuse to sit down. Maybe my stomach'll catch up to me soon. He took a few moments to look around the room. On nearly every it of wall hung a portrait of someone he didn't know. The strange thing about these portraits was that the subjects didn't sit still. A great many of them turned to look at the newcomer. Some went so far as to leave their picture and appear in a nearby portrait and strike up a conversation with its occupant. The rest of the walls were taken up by shelves upon shelves of books and various items that he had no way of even guessing their function. One such item appeared to be a very old, patched up wizard's hat. Probably has some sentimental value. Finally, he returned his gaze to Dumbledore, who was smiling at him. His eyes were sparkling with barely contained mirth. It would seem that everyone reacted to his office in similar ways their first time.
