A/N: Howler and car, Nimbus 2001, Chamber and sneaking into Slytherin, Dueling club and parsletongue, valentine's day, basilisk attack, hospital wing, debt to Harry

September 1992

Despite the fact that Charles Xavier had given them a critical clue last year to stop Quirrell's nefarious plot (he still can't believe it wasn't Snape), Harry still felt wary every time the older Ravenclaw approached. He seemed nice enough, but there were all those questions.

Now, as he attempted to reassure a flamingly embarrassed Ron that the Howler hadn't been that bad (even if everyone had been staring at them, at least it looked like they had moved on to more important matters now?), he realized that both Charles Xavier and Tony Stark were converging onto their table.

(There were nearly as many rumors about Tony Stark as there were about Erik Lehnsherr, albeit much less scary ones. Harry has heard that Tony Stark may be even richer than the Malfoys, that he blows stuff up about a once a week, that he actually wants to blow up even more stuff, that he's made robots that can shoot lasers out of its eyes, that most of the professors have fireproofed their classrooms because of him, that he throws giant bacchanals in the middle of the night that Filch has sworn to track down but has still been unable to, that he has his own secretary, that he's mocked the Wolverine to his face and lived to tell the tale, that none of his girlfriends last more than a week, and that he has left a trail of broken hearts, but all the girls still like him anyway because they find it romantic that apparently he has a long lost Slytherin love that he can't get over. Raven won't tell them which of these are true either, just grinning and laughing every time they ask her.)

"Harry, Ron," Charles greets them smiling and gestures to Tony Stark who is grinning widely at them, "I believe you two know Tony Stark?"

Tony opens his arms wide and exclaims, "The Boy Who Lived and the Boy Who Drove a Flying Car into the Whomping Willow! How have we not met before?"

Harry smiles weakly as Tony shakes both of their hands vigorously. He gets the horrible feeling that this is going to be like Lockhart all over again, but he is pleasantly surprised when the loud Ravenclaw turns his attentions to Ron instead.

"So that car that you drove here, your dad made it?" Tony asked eagerly.

Ron nodded slowly. "There's a loophole in the law," he added defiantly, "Dad wasn't breaking any rules!"

"Don't care if he was," Tony replied flippantly, "I want to talk to him."

"Why?" Ron asked, confused.

"Anyone who can make a flying Muggle car is awesome, and Stark Industries needs people that are that awesome," Tony declared, "Does your dad like his current job?"

Ron stared dumbfoundedly at Tony, "Are you offering my dad a job at Stark Industries?" he croaked out.

"Sure," Tony replied, shrugging, "I get that the car ran away, but I bet your dad has other stuff in his workshop for me to look at? I can drop by this weekend, and I'll talk to Obie, he can get your dad set up, 'kay?"

"But the inquiry at work?" Ron asked faintly, trying to catch up with Tony's quick decisions.

"Pff," Tony tasked, waving a dismissive hand, "That's easily sorted out; I'm a Stark. And if the Malfoys pitch a fit, Charles here can smooth everything over," he said expansively, gesturing at the other Ravenclaw.

Charles nodded, "We're better liked than the Malfoys," he confided with an apologetic grin, "But don't let Tony simply bowl you over, you should probably write to your father and ask him if Tony visiting would be alright?"

"Y-yeah, sure!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing Errol from his face-planted position in the porridge, "Thank you!" he called out, running out of the Great Hall to fetch some parchment.

"Great!" Tony said, stretching, "Well now that my weekend plans are changed, I better go rearrange my schedule," he commented, leering and blowing kisses at a group of giggling Hufflepuff girls.

Charles rolled his eyes as Tony walked away, "He'll have them all crying within a week," he said despairingly before turning to Harry, "You better tell your friend that besides Tony, there will be one other person accompanying him to make sure he stays on topic and doesn't 'forget' to come back."

"Why didn't you just tell Ron earlier?" Harry asks curiously.

"Tony doesn't know he has a chaperone yet," Charles revealed conspiratorially, "Don't worry though, she's nice, and she'll keep Tony in line."

(From Ron's happy recounting, Tony Stark absolutely loved the various, slightly illegal devices in Mr. Weasley's shed, and it had only been through the intervention of Pepper Potts, Tony's chaperone or secretary but definitely not girlfriend, that Tony hadn't tried to actually drive the singing Vespa out into the streets. The inquiry at work was quickly and discreetly cleared up with a combination of Stark flashy charm and Xavier connections, and both he and Ron were delighted to see Malfoy's disgusted expression. Harry guesses that maybe Charles Xavier isn't that bad, but that still doesn't mean he wants to sit and answer all of the older boy's questions.)

October 1992

"No," Erik said adamantly.

"Lehnsherr," Flint growled at him, "Take the fucking broom."

Erik narrowed his eyes at him, "No," he repeated as the stirrups on the Nimbus 2001 that Flint was holding out began to twist and shrivel.

"This is a fucking Nimbus 2001," Flint spat out, waving the broom in front of Erik's face angrily, "It's the fastest broom in the world right now, and we're all riding one, so take the fucking broom."

"It's a bribe to get the brat on the team, and I'm not taking it," Erik ground out, twisting his hand and sending the broom crashing into the wall.

"Do you not want to win or something?" Flint asked incredulously, looking at the giant hole in the wall that the broom had made, "It's a Nimbus 2001."

"Paid for by Lucius Malfoy, and I don't want to owe him," Erik spat, picking up his own broom, "And if we need Nimbus 2001s to win, then we have a sad, sad team this year."

(Lucius Malfoy is a snake, in every bad connotation of the word, and Erik doesn't want anything from him. There were many Death Eaters who had passed in and out of Shaw's labs, some on duty to report Shaw's findings to the Dark Lord, some simply, sadistically curious. He remembers seeing a masked figure long, pale blonde hair who had laughed as Shaw had tested Erik's resilience to multiple curses at the same time. The first time he had seen Lucius Malfoy at one of the Xaviers' many garden parties, Charles had had to restrain him and send waves and waves of calm into his mind to make sure he hadn't stabbed the man through with the spiked chains that had rose hissing in fury around him. He will never believe that the older Malfoy had been Imperiused into being a Death Eater; no one laughed like that under the Imperius.)

"Fine," Flint snapped, pulling on his Quidditch gloves, "You just piss off Malfoy some more and fly that broom Xavier gave you—"

"If you say anything about Charles, I will make your broom flip over while you're flying it today," Erik said pleasantly, floating over his bat, "And the only reason I'm warning you instead of letting you dig your own grave is because you leave the room when I tell you to."

"The spiders are creepy, and no one wants to see you and Xavier go at it," Flint grumbled, walking out of the door and yelling, "Oi, Malfoy! Stop hiding and let's get to practice!"

The brat sneers when he sees Erik still carrying his Cleansweep 7 and mutters something about blood traitors and their pets, but then one of the buckles in his boot just so happens to catch on something, so he falls face first into the grass and finally shuts up.

As they walk to early morning practice (courtesy of Snape, and Raven was not going to be happy with him), the brat struts in front of them (grass stains hidden by the green Slytherin uniform), conspicuously twirling his broom around and shooting Erik nasty looks. He despairs of their chances for another Quidditch Cup with this brat as their Seeker, no matter how much the brat brags about his skills or the fancy new brooms he brought. The brat was probably going to be so distracted trying to show up and insult Harry Potter that he would miss the Snitch even if it fluttered right in front of him.

They meet the Gryffindor Quidditch team on the field, and Raven shoots him a slightly betrayed look (but when it came to Quidditch, it was war between the two of them for the most part anyway, besides the fact that neither of them could injure each other because Charles would give them both disappointed looks with huge clear blue eyes), and then the brat begins mouthing off. Erik tunes him out like usual, carefully looking over the Gryffindor Quidditch team instead (it doesn't matter how fast their brooms are, he's unfortunately aware that Raven is a ridiculously good Chaser who pulls off spins and feints that would put Viktor Krum to shame, that Oliver Wood will quite possibly kill himself before he let a Quaffle in, and that Gryffindor has the better and much more agreeable Seeker) until the brat calls one of Potter's friends "mudblood."

(Erik personally never cared when people called him that. He knew it bothered Charles and Raven, but he thinks it's fine that someone write him off as a mudblood because that means that they're underestimating him, and that could always be useful. Mudblood was just a word; it was the belief that he was something to be studied and experimented on that was much more dangerous. However, he does not especially appreciate someone else being called one, especially by a brat who did not even possess one tenth of the magic needed to condescend someone of Hermione Granger's rumored levels.)

The twins and Raven leap at the brat, and the youngest Weasley boy attempts to curse Malfoy, but it backfires horribly on him with slugs (Erik has the distinct, unfortunate impression that if Charles or Hank were here, they would be taking notes and asking questions). The brat and most of the rest of the Slytherin team starts howling with laughter (the fact about most Quidditch players as happy to do fouls as his team was that they started to lose whatever brain cells they possessed to begin with due to all the sudden impacts), and some small Gryffindor runs up to take photos.

Everyone is panicking or laughing around him, and Erik really wishes Pepper or Darwin were here to sort out this mess (Pepper has too much practice with Tony, and Darwin really does adapt to anything), but neither one of them are dumb enough to be up at this ungodly hour, so he steps forward, roughly hauls the youngest male Weasley up, and pushes him toward his friends.

"You better take him to Hagrid's," he states, walking back and "accidentally" kicking the sprawled out brat in the solar plexus to make him stop his imitation of a hyena lying on the ground, "If you try taking him to Madam Pomfrey, Filch will catch you and make you scrub up all the slugs he keeps belching up."

The trio nods (or in the Weasley's case, feebly attempts to, only to dribble out more slugs), and heads out, followed by the rest of the grumbling Gryffindor team. Eventually his fellow Slytherins calm down, and practice begins.

If he happens to send more bludgers the brat's way than he would normally bother to send at a Seeker, the brat needs the training anyway, no matter what Flint is yelling at him.

(Later, he does catch some flak from Raven for not accepting the Nimbus 2001 and giving it to her, but also an annoying amount of teasing about "taking care of wee Gryffindors." Charles beams and says that it's adorable, and that's when he has to shut him up with a particularly forceful kiss.)

November 1992

They had been trying to keep it a secret, but Raven had overheard (somehow, she always knew all the gossip anyway) and was laughing her head off.

"You-you think that Draco Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin?" she gasped in between her giggles, "Oh god, wait until I tell Charles! Or Erik, he'll probably die laughing!"

"You seem fairly close to doing that yourself," Hermione stated snippily.

"Why is it such a ridiculous idea to you?" Harry asked, a bit annoyed, "He hates Muggleborns, he even said, 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!' when we saw the writing on the wall, his whole family has been in Slytherin—"

"Lots of pureblood families have only ever been in Slytherin," Raven interrupted in an amused voice, "Even the Xaviers used to be sorted into mostly Slytherin; it's a pureblood thing."

"But your brother is in Ravenclaw, and he's dating a Muggleborn, so that's beside the point!" Harry snapped, crossing his arms, "Malfoy is our best bet."

"Draco Malfoy is a spoiled brat who knows exactly how to use his money but has absolutely no idea what the Dark Arts really entails," Raven corrected gently, "Believe me, I've been to enough parties with him. Besides, don't you think that if Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin, he would have gone after you or Erik first? He hates both of you enough."

"But Lehnsherr is scary," Harry pointed out (and he was, even if he had helped Ron out), "And I had gone to the Deathday party instead of the Halloween Feast. And maybe Malfoy hasn't gotten the hang of it yet, so he wanted to try against someone easier, like Mrs. Norris"

Raven shakes her head, "Unleashing the Chamber of Secrets and only managing to petrify a cat, how sad is that? Although, that would be like Malfoy. Despite the ridiculousness of this idea, exactly what are you going to do about it?"

Harry shares a look with Ron and Hermione. Ron nods his head, looking inclined to tell Raven while Hermione gives a quick shake of her head, miming pouring a potion (she probably doesn't want Raven to know about the Polyjuice Potion), so he guesses it's up to him. On one hand, Raven could probably help them a lot, given how well she knew the school and how often she visited the Slytherin common room. On the other hand, it's their plan, and she seems rather dismissive of it (which rankles a bit), and anything Raven knows, generally the twins find out quickly as well, and he really doesn't want to get them involved (knowing them, they would probably find Malfoy and turn him into something amusing like a ferret, which while appealing, doesn't answer the question of where the Chamber of Secrets is, and what's in it).

"We have a plan," he states vaguely.

Raven gives him a look and sighs, "Alright fine, keep your secrets and be that way, but if you lose us more points, I am not keeping Moira or Oliver for that matter, from skinning you if you get in serious trouble and lose us more points or miss matches," she then stretches and begins to head up the stairs. "You better get some rest," she calls out, "Have to fly our best against stupid Nimbus 2001s that my idiot brother was too freaking proud to accept and give to me."

Harry nods, stomach twisting unpleasantly. Those brooms were fast; Fred and George had reported seeing the Slytherin team become green blurs during practice. Also, he was a bit worried that Oliver was going to attempt to kill either himself or someone else if they lost (Quidditch was fun, but sometimes Harry felt that Oliver took it too far), or that Raven would attempt to hijack one of the Nimbus 2001s during the match (apparently she had already been caught by Erik trying to steal one from the Slytherin common room. He got the feeling that if she didn't manage to nag Charles into giving her one by Christmas, it would be because Charles had gone deaf).

"Cheer up Harry," Raven grins, standing with her arms propped on the banister of the stairs, "We'll crush them all tomorrow and show Malfoy that money can't replace talent. You're better than he is, so don't worry about it."

And even if Raven doesn't understand how evil Malfoy really is, Harry does like the fact that she's in his house and on his team.

Charles is having a particularly difficult time convincing Erik to go to the Dueling Club with him.

"But Erik, it'll be useful," he murmurs into his ear, "An actual professor instead of us just practicing spells! Professor Flitwick could be the one teaching, and he was famous at duels in his day!"

Erik bats him away with a book of Rilke poems, "Shouldn't you be studying?" he grumbles, giving him a pointed look and replaying the memory of Charles frantically scribbling notes, floating over textbooks, and worrying about his upcoming lecture on genetics in Muggle studies.

"Professor Burbage moved up my presentation, and it went well," Charles replied happily, "I actually taught some people Mendelian genetics for the first time!"

"Congratulations," Erik said warmly, patting Charles' hand on his shoulder, "I told you it would be fine."

"You know how I am," Charles said, shrugging and leaning in, "But I'm better now, so come with me to the Dueling Club?"

Erik sighed, "Would you keep bothering me all night if I didn't?" he asked, standing up.

Charles grinned, "Of course," he replied, linking their hands together and dragging an unresisting Erik over to the Great Hall.

Of course, when Lockhart arrived, Charles had to clutch onto Erik's arm and dig in his heels to prevent him from leaving.

He might know some useful spells, he pleads, tugging Erik back, We should stay!

He doesn't attend our class for fear of Cornish pixies that he left to Gryffindor second years to clean up, and all he talks about in our supposed N.E.W.T. class is how he defeated the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Erik spat out angrily (the prick of needles), trying to get away, And you said yourself that he's a total fraud!

Well yes, Charles admitted, holding on fast, It seems that most of his deeds in his books were not in fact, actually perpetuated by him, although he's managed to bury that fact in his mind very well. Once we graduate, I am lodging an inquiry with the Ministry, but he has to know something. Professor Dumbledore did hire him after all.

Couldn't find anyone else to take the job, Erik said pointedly, giving up and glaring at Charles, and this droftrottel was stupid enough to offer.

Professor Snape is here as well, Charles points out, gesturing at the glowering professor, He could definitely teach us something.

If he doesn't attempt to kill us for that disastrous Quidditch match, Erik replied gloomily, I knew that stupid brat was going to be too busy taunting Potter to actually see the Snitch that was right in front of him.

Charles winced, At least the rest of your team is mad at him as well? He offered, And you managed to hit that rogue bludger away from Harry long enough for Hermione to explode it?

Only reason I had to do that was because I couldn't control it, Erik retorted, Something was very wrong with that bludger.

Harry does seem to attract trouble wherever he goes, Charles agreed.

Their conversation was interrupted by Professor Lockhart's (pompous) speech, and Erik's sneer grows particularly contemptuous after Professor Snape manages to send Professor Lockhart flying with a simple Expelliarmus spell.

We could have blocked that when we were first years, his thoughts buzz in irritation as the chandeliers above them begin to sway, This is utterly useless.

To be fair, we were rather unusual first years, Charles pointed out, sending a calming rain over Erik's mind, And we've stayed this long, so we might as well see it out to the end.

Erik finally agrees to stay (You owe me), and then gets paired off to duel against a ferociously grinning Logan (and Charles is a bit worried about this, but the professors should intervene if anything really serious occurred, right?), and Charles gets paired off to duel against a scowling Alex.

He smiles and bows to the younger boy, "Hello Alex."

"I don't have very good aim," Alex replies worriedly, jerkily bowing to him, "Just warning you. I don't want Erik trying to take my head off."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he says reassuringly, and then lifts his wand, "Shall we begin?"

Ten minutes later, he's trying to extinguish all the fires Alex had set around him (he hadn't been lying about terrible aim; as far as Charles can tell, everything around him is on fire, including an unfortunate Hank and Sean, but Charles hasn't even come close to being hit by anything), he can see the ring of devastation that Erik and Logan have created around them, with Logan sending slashing spell after clawing spell and Erik deflecting each one and sending back a whirlwind of knives in retaliation, and there is similar chaos all around him, with Pepper casually throwing hexes at one of Tony's former girlfriends (Christine Everhart he imagines, none of them had especially liked her), Tony and Darwin coming up with increasingly creative spells to throw at one another (Charles is itching to ask Darwin how he managed to transfigure his scales that deflect Tony's laser spells), Raven is perhaps having too much fun dueling the twins (she's transformed into one of them, so he's not entirely which one is actually his sister), and Professor Lockhart seems woefully unequipped to deal with such madness.

It's only after Professor Snape takes charge (with perhaps the slightest of mental nudges from Charles, which is really all he can do since Professor Snape's mind is as or perhaps even more tightly guarded than Erik's, and here there is no gate), that everyone eventually stops fighting (although with Logan and Erik, it was more because Erik had levitated away Logan's metal-tipped wand and was in the process of attempting to attach Logan to the chandelier, except Charles had shouted in Erik's mind until he had grudgingly let go).

Lockhart then has the brilliant(ly stupid) idea to make Draco Malfoy and Harry duel each other, and Erik is suddenly grinning broadly.

Why are you so happy? he asks, as Harry and Draco jerkily bow to one another.

I'm looking forward to the brat getting his comeuppance for the failure of a Quidditch match, Erik replied cheerfully, eyes trained on the pair in front of them.

Didn't that already happen when he didn't catch the Snitch? Charles pointed out, And why are you so sure Harry will win?

If he doesn't, then the brat will brag insufferably, and then I'll have an excuse to give him detention for the next month, Erik replies, shrugging, It's a win-win situation.

Charles sighs, but doesn't get a chance to form anymore rebukes when Draco Malfoy sends a snake at a frozen looking Harry. Professor Snape doesn't seem to be inclined to do anything (he seemed to have an odd distaste for the innocuous looking Gryffindor boy), Lockhart is useless, and Erik is still watching the match eagerly (It's training Charles, he says dismissively), so Charles is about to attempt entering the serpent's mind (normally animals are too stupid to affect, but since this one had been formed through magic, it might work?) when Harry begins hissing.

(Parseltongue is a very rare skill and typically hereditary. The ability to actually speak Parseltongue is considered the mark of a Dark Wizard, for many various reasons that Charles views a bit ambivalently, but had never really thought about because again, Parselmouths were especially rare. But here one was! That brought up so many different theories, including recessive powers, the Potter family, You-Know-Who's abilities—)

"I think it's over now," Erik interrupted his thoughts, nudging his shoulder with his own, "Let's head back."

"What?" Charles asked, startled out of his thoughts and glancing frantically around the muttering room, "No, we have to find Harry; I have a lot of questions—"

"And I doubt he wants to answer them," Erik answered, steering him out of the Great Hall, "There are too many people already wondering if he is the Heir of Slytherin; tonight's display will not help matters."

"Harry Potter, the Heir of Slytherin?" Charles asked disbelievingly as they walked to Ravenclaw Tower, "That's utter rubbish; the Potters are an old, old family, about as old as us, I believe, and the last known family known to have been descended from Slytherin was the Gaunt family. If the Potters are related to them, it's no more than the rest of the wizarding world. Who would believe such a thing?"

"Half the school apparently," Erik replied dryly, answering the knocker and holding the door open for him, "You have seen all the protective amulets they have been selling?"

"Pure junk, all of it," Charles sighed as he sat down on one of the blue couches, "And Raven and the twins do not help by hawking their own jokey wares that blare alarms. Although at this rate, she might be able to afford her own Nimbus 2001, instead of badgering me about it."

"Always a good thing," Erik replied, sitting down and pulling Charles over to sit between his legs with a tug of his watch.

(Erik may have scoffed at all the protective amulets being sold around the school, but Charles has felt the slight tug on his wrist from his watch enough times to know that Erik is mildly worried. He can't blame him; there has been more than one time that he has peeked through their odd bond to make sure Erik is alright. He may be a blood traitor, but Erik is Muggleborn, and that is much more dangerous if the legend of the Chamber of Secrets is true.)

"Do you think Harry would let me ask him questions tomorrow?" he asks hopefully, tilting his head up to look at Erik.

"Doubtful," Erik replies with a smile and wraps his arms around his waist and kisses the corner of his mouth.

February 1993

Tony absolutely loves Valentine's Day. It's the one day in the year where every single girl in Hogwarts (with one or two exceptions) has romance on her mind, and he would be amiss to not take full advantage of that fact, wouldn't he?

It helps that Lockhart has suddenly decided to decorate the Great Hall appropriately, with large, luridly pink flowers, heart shaped confetti, and card carrying "cupids" that looked a lot more like dwarfs, but that was beside the point. The point was that Lockhart had set the atmosphere, and Tony was more than ready to send some valentines and get some loving.

"Isn't this great, man?" he exclaimed, clapping Charles on the back.

Charles pulled an expression of distaste looking around the room, "Great is not how I would describe it," he said tactfully, getting some porridge.

"That's because you're not as awesome as me," Tony replied, glancing over at the Slytherin table, "Your boyfriend looks like he's about to kill someone, not that that's that different from any other day."

Charles smiled at the glowering Erik from across the hall, and the rattling silverware gradually calmed down.

"You guys are mindblowingly sweet," Tony commented, miming gagging motions, "Are you going to send darling Erik a singing valentine?"

"I think he would murder it," Charles replied dryly, "Try not to go overboard today with the sending of Valentines; we do have class you know."

"Why Charles, when do I ever go overboard?" Tony grinned, opening his arms expansively.

"All the time," Pepper replied primly, taking Charles' seat as he walked away shaking his head.

"Good to see you Ms. Potts," Tony greets her cheerfully, "I was just about to go looking for you! I need my valentines sorted out."

"I've already arranged for the Valentines to be sent to Ms. Smith, Ms. Spinnet, Ms. Clearwater, and Ms. Farley," Pepper said as a quill behind her floated in the air and scratched away on a levitated roll of parchment, "As none of them are in the same house, this should lead to a minimum level of tears. Is there anyone else you would like to add?"

"What about Ms. March?" Tony asked raising his eyebrows salaciously, "Or the Winter twins?"

"Ms. March is unfortunately in the same year and house as Ms. January Winter," Pepper replied mildly, preparing two cups of coffee, "I would suggest that you just send to the Winter twins who are in separate houses."

"Scheduling conflicts suck," Tony declared, leaning back, "Fine, just the Winter twins then."

(Pepper has basically taken to organizing his schedule and most of his life ever since that windy night in the Astronomy Tower. He knows that initially it was because she was worried about him, and he really probably would have failed that first year after his parents' deaths without her, but now he thinks she does it mostly out of habit, and he lets her because he likes her by his side.

Pepper is not like any other girls Tony knows. It's been obvious since day one when she completely rejected his advances on the train, but it's more than just that. He respects her intellect, her ruthless ability to organize, and her unflappable calm, and he's not actually sure at this point how he would function without her. At the same time though, she cares and that terrifies him, so it's easier to draw back and flirt with other girls than with her because he knows that anything with Pepper would have to be serious, and he doesn't think he's ready for that yet. He knows his own track record with relationships, and he doesn't trust himself to not screw this one up.)

As Pepper hands him a cup of coffee, he notices that every single one of Lockhart's forks have curled up into little spirals, his goblet is currently melting away, and Charles seems to be in a deep discussion with a glaring Erik who is threateningly gesturing at the metal harps of the dwarf cupids.

"Hey Pepper," he says, eyes still trained on the silently arguing Charles and Erik, "Can you arrange for a valentine to be sent to Charles from the Wolverine?"

Pepper raises her eyebrows, "I believe it would be in your best interest to make it from Erik," she comments, stopping her quill and making it scratch something out.

"But that's no fun," he whines, giving her a wide-eyed look.

"On the contrary, if your purpose is to punish Erik for trying to ruin your sense of fun on Valentine's Day, it would hurt his pride a lot more to have sent an extremely sappy love poem than to be in competition with the Wolverine for Charles," Pepper replied, looking over her roll of parchment, "In addition, you will only be hunted down by Erik for this scenario instead of both the Wolverine and Erik in your previous case."

(And there it is again, no matter how flippantly or flatly she states it; she looks out for him and tries to keep him from his more reckless actions, and he knows that everyone thinks he doesn't know what he's doing, but he's not in Ravenclaw just for his pretty face. He knows that he had been depressed after his parents' deaths, that he had come close to throwing it all away; he's already talked to his Healer about all that. He also knows that at least part of his current recklessness is a reaction to having to take over the Stark family business now instead of later like he had always imagined, and that it isn't especially healthy, but he doesn't care. And he doesn't really want Pepper trying to keep him safe either, but he has no idea how to deal with his schedule without her at this point, and it's not like anyone can make Pepper do anything she doesn't want to do anyway. Girl was in Slytherin for a reason, but he was going to find a way to keep her by his side after Hogwarts anyway, even if she had expressed absolutely no desire to work in Stark Industries.)

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up, "Just make sure that that love poem is as sappy as humanely possible."

"It will be my pleasure," Pepper replies, giving him a small smile, her eyes dancing with merriment, "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That would be all, Ms. Potts," he replies as she rolls up her parchment and the quill places itself neatly into her bag.

(Pepper is right, as she always is, that he doesn't have the Wolverine out for his blood today, but he guesses that she has a higher opinion of his powers than he had thought given the furious stampede of suits of armor waving battle axes and morning stars that had nearly slammed into him. Then he has to deal with the pounding headache and the annoying, tinny sounding songs stuck in his head, courtesy of Charles, but since he's Tony Stark and just that awesome, he actually manages to use a few of the cheesy lines in the songs to charm his many dates that night. Pepper manages to avoid retribution, most likely due to blackmail photos Tony desperately wants but Raven refuses to give him, citing irresponsibility and drunken shenanigans, and if he happens to anonymously send Pepper a bouquet of red and white roses that night, that's his own business.)

March 1993

Normally, Erik would already be in the stands to watch Raven play against Hufflepuff (and he didn't care how many glares he got from his housemates for cheering for Gryffindor; he was never going to cheer for the Wolverine's team), but he had been held up finalizing the last few parts of his Auror application (getting Snape, Flitwick, and McGonagall to agree to write recommendation letters wasn't difficult, but all of them wrote the letters at a snail's pace since exams were fast approaching), and now he was late.

He was striding down the hall past the library, when a bushy haired girl ran out and stopped him right before he rounded the corner.

"Wait!" she called out frantically, clutching a piece of parchment.

He turns around, about to give whoever is daring to stop him detention (it doesn't matter if they're not in Slytherin; he can probably terrify them into believing that he really can give them detention), but then reconsiders when he sees it's Potter's more intelligent friend (the brat rants about her quite often as well. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy is displeased that his only son is being shown up by a "Mudblood girl," and Erik is inclined to like anyone who pisses off Lucius Malfoy).

He crosses his arms and taps his foot, "What is it?" he impatiently asks.

"You-you can't just walk around without checking!" she said, panting for breath, "It's dangerous! You have to check with something that reflects, like a mirror or something!"

He frowns, "Is this about the Chamber of Secrets monster? I'm in a hurry, and I can deal with—"

"Please trust me on this," she interrupted earnestly, "If it's what I think it is then…well, it might not be, but it's best if you check anyway!"

He sighs, and he knows that if Charles or Raven (or Pepper or Tony or Darwin since anything they know inevitably comes to the knowledge of the those two as well) ever hear about this, he'll be teased and cooed over for at least a month (he can already hear Raven's needling about helping "ickle Gryffindors" and see Charles' starry-eyed look), but he twitches his fingers and one of the suits of armor marches over.

"See?" he says in an exasperated tone as they peer into the armor's reflection, "All there is is—"

Giant yellow eyes.

He tries to send the armor smashing around the corner, he tries to push the Gryffindor girl back, he tries to reach for Charles through their link to warn him, but all he manages is a broken sense of panic before darkness consumes his world.

Charles feels it instantly; the growing sense of panic (chains rattling in fear and anxiety) and then nothing. Nothing at all. A void. Emptiness. (As if their bond had been broken, as if his sanctuary had disappeared, as if Erik was no more).

He doesn't even realize that he had risen from his seat, that he had dashed down the long, long halls, that he's screaming out Erik's name, that he's keening as he tightly holds onto Erik's (still, so still) body until a white-faced Professor McGonagall is attempting to pull him away.

"Mr. Xavier, you have to calm down," she said urgently, "Calm down, Mr. Lehnsherr might be petrified, we have to take him to Madam Pomfrey, but you have to calm down—"

(How can he calm down? This is his best friend, this is his lover, this is Erik, and even if he isn't dead, he could have easily been, and this can't continue, this has to stop, he has to find out who is behind all of this because Erik is hurt and they can't just get away with that.)

He looks McGonagall in the eye, leaps into her mind (a castle like Hogwarts), and rifles through her thoughts and memories (he knows it's invasive, that it's a total breach of privacy, but he has to know) looking for any clue. He passes image after image of classes, Gryffindors, Quidditch game, conferences, but he sees nothing relevant. When he withdraws, she slumps to the ground (what has he done, what has he done? But he has to find out), and he begins to stretch his mind, as he hasn't done since he first realized what he could do, and begins to systematically enter all the minds he can reach (someone has to know, there is someone here who has been unleashing terror upon the school, someone knows, and he needs to find them).

He swims past memory after memory encased in mind after mind (cottages, manors, labyrinths, libraries), searching and searching for some hint, some sign, but all he finds is fearpanic, what if I am next?, what's happening?, what's going on?, who's there?, so he presses on, (he feels more people collapse in his wake, but he has to keep going, he has to find something), digging in deep and casting aside unhelpful memories, but no one seems to actually know anything so he throws his mind farther—

And Professor Dumbledore is shaking his shoulder and looking him in the eye.

"Mr. Xavier," he says gently, "Charles, stop this."

"Why?" Charles asks blankly, still holding tightly onto Erik's (cold, so cold) body, "You want to know who is behind this as well, don't you? Why haven't you found him yet?"

"The culprit will be found, I promise you Charles, but not like this," Professor Dumbledore says steadily, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Charles, "You are hurting people, Charles. I know you are upset, but would Mr. Lehnsherr want to see you like this? "

(Erik was the one who had comforted and told him so long ago when he had twisted his stepfather's mind that even if he had the capabilities to be a monster, he would not let him become one and would not leave him. He would be horrified to see Charles ripping through people's minds, and he suddenly feels sick. What has he done?)

"Are they…?" he whispers, fingers clutching Erik's robes, unable to say the words (have they gone mad because of me, have I broken more people, have I done something so unforgivable, so like Frost, so like Shaw, that Erik will despise me?)

"Many people fainted due to the sheer amount of memories you pulled up, but there is no lasting damage as far as I can ascertain," Dumbledore said reassuringly and then grew more serious, "But please do not try that again. You are an extremely strong Legilimens, Charles, but even disregarding the untold damage you could wreck on other peoples' minds, you yourself could get lost."

Charles shook his head, stroking Erik's face (eyes wide open, frozen, and he wants to scream), and said despairingly, "I should not have done that. He would hate that. Is he—?"

(If Erik was gone, if Erik was dead, he doesn't know what he will do. He had considered this scenario when thinking about Erik's quest for revenge, but even then he his mind had shuddered to a stop and drawn a blank. It's the nightmare that has him crawling into Erik's bed, linking their hands and minds together in reassurance that he is still there, but now Erik is truly gone and he feels as though he is falling, and he can't breath—)

"I believe both Mr. Lehnsherr and Ms. Granger are simply petrified," Professor Dumbledore stated, stretching a hand out, "We should take them to the hospital wing, just to be sure though."

He breathes a sigh of relief (alive, thank God, and even if Erik was angry at him, even if Erik despised him after he found out, at the very least, he would be alive and well) and reluctantly relinquishes his grip on Erik's body and finally permits a shaken looking Raven to wrap a blanket around him.

May 1993

Raven is tired.

Charles spends nearly every waking hour by Erik's bedside, despite the fact that Madam Pomfrey has banned all visitors, fearing for the safety of her patients. He simply made her not see him, and she thinks she would be a lot more disturbed about the casual use of his magic if he hadn't made at least thirty people pass out a few months before.

(They talked about it once, right after it happened, Charles shaking with a hand on Erik's still arm. She's always known her brother was much more terrifying than Erik if sufficiently provoked, but she can also see how scared he is, how he cannot meet her eyes, how ashamed he is of himself, and so she draws him into a hug and promises him that Erik will understand when he wakes up. He apologizes to all thirty of the people later on, and most, like McGonagall, accepted his apology along with his promise to never try that again, but some shy away from her brother now. She understands; it's utterly nightmarish, the things Charles could do if he tried, but she stays by his side because she knows that Charles always keeps his promises, and she trusts the boy who drew her out of the kitchens and defended her from Cain.)

His books and notes are piled there, and Tony confided to her that he's fairly sure Charles sleeps there as well. Charles still smiles and laughs with her, but his smile is strained, he has dark circles under his eyes, he doesn't eat much, and he is far too pale. (If Erik were here, he would have already bullied Charles into eating and sleeping, but he isn't here, so Raven is forced to cajole her brother on her own.)

It's not to say that the rest of them don't feel worried as well. The specter of the Heir of Slytherin hangs over their heads (if it could get Erik, it could easily get any of them as well), and all of them have gotten rather good at Disillusionment Charms from standing guard at Erik's bedside when Charles has to go to class. Pepper and Darwin grimly take the morning shift (she doesn't ask about how Draco Malfoy turned up in the hospital wing with waving pustules all over his face; she can imagine what he would say about Muggleborn Erik being attacked, and she can also imagine Pepper's flawless technique and Darwin's innovation combined), Tony seriously stations small robots all around the room, the twins take the afternoon shift and try to cheer Charles up with jokes that he laughs weakly at, and she forces her brother to get dinner while she sits at Erik's side.

(It's unnatural, how still he is. She knows that that's because he's petrified, but even when Erik had been not moving, he either looked as though he was a mass of coiled energy just waiting to spring, or he was lazily sprawled against Charles. Now he is just frozen with an expression of shock that she knows he would despise, and she hates it.)

She's hurrying to the hospital wing again when she bumps into Harry and Ron, arguing in front of a girl's restroom.

"Why are you two hanging around here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow, "No one uses this restroom if you're waiting for some girl, only Moaning Myrtle is there."

"We-we wanted to go see Hermione!" Harry stammers out, obviously lying, "But we don't know how to get in since Madam Pomfrey won't let us."

She considers teasing them or interrogating them (as far as she knew, Ron maybe has a bit of a crush on Hermione, and Ginny Weasley has this huge thing for Harry, but more gossip was always fun) , but if she doesn't go to the hospital wing now, Charles will completely miss breakfast, so she sighs and draws out her wand.

"You're going to have to be really, really quiet, okay? Charles can cover up some things, but not when he's gone, alright?" she says as she casts Disillusionment Charms around all of them.

They quickly walk to the hospital wing where she urges her (exhausted, he looked as though he had been attempting to study for N.E.W.T.s for both himself and Erik) brother out the door and takes her customary seat as she hears Harry and Ron carefully navigate the squeaky clean hospital floor to take a seat by Hermione's bed.

As she stares at Erik's prone body, she goes over all the facts in her head again. There had been a suit of armor that had been moved, but it had simply been standing there with no raised weapons or anything. Had that been all that Erik had had time to do, or had he moved it for some other reason and then been surprised? She knows Charles has been searching all the books, even more frantically since Erik was petrified, looking for some hint of what could have caused this, but there were many forms of petrification, and even with Pepper, Darwin, and Hank's help, he had not managed to gone through all of it yet. All she knew was that whatever it was, it had to have been really powerful and really sneaky to take Erik down, and really rare or unheard of to have avoided Charles' research—

"Ah!" Harry's voice exclaimed, and she heard the crinkling of parchment and frantic whispering between him and Ron.

She shook her head and strode over. "Are you trying to get us kicked out?" she hissed, "Charles isn't here to block out our noise!"

"We think we've figured something out! Well, Hermione did," Ron amended excitedly, "The monster in the Chamber of Secrets is a basilisk! It's been crawling around the pipes!"

She stares at the empty space where the younger Gryffindor voices are coming from. Basilisks were rare, rare creatures, and they were up to fifty feet long and it would never have occurred to any of them that such a thing could be crawling around the castle unseen. Its gaze meant death, but no one had ever said anything about a reflection of its eyes (the suit of armor). It all makes sense, and it's a miracle that Erik is even alive. (She has a feeling they owe Hermione Granger a great debt, and she will be informing Charles as soon as he returns.)

"What are you waiting for?" she snaps, "Go tell McGonagall right now!"

She hears them hurrying away, and she pats Hermione's shoulder.

"Thank you," she breathes, "If Erik had died—I think Charles would have gone mad."

(And she truly believed that, watching the way people had fallen after Charles had invaded their minds. Charles has a set of ethics about his magic that he tries his best to stick to, even if he likes popping in and out of people's minds like breathing, and it's a sign of how lost he was that he would violate his own steadfast rules. She knows that as much as Charles draws Erik out of his occasional brooding depths, Erik grounds Charles. She herself feels unbalanced not having both of her brothers with her, and she is looking forward to tonight when the Mandrakes will finally be prepared and apparently the culprit caught.)

Harry is utterly exhausted. While he is beyond happy that Ginny is fine, that everyone who has been petrified has been woken up, that he's alive, that they're having a giant feast, he has just battled with a basilisk and a memory of Tom Riddle and freed a house elf from Lucius Malfoy, and he really doesn't want to answer the questions of a beaming Charles Xavier who is running toward him with Erik Lehnsherr in tow.

He pastes on a smile and braces himself for a barrage of questions, only to have Charles pull him into an embrace.

"Thank you," he whispers to him, gratitude thrumming in every syllable of his voice.

He shook his head quickly, backing away (he's heard stories about how possessive Lehnsherr can get), "It was really Hermione who found it all out, and probably saved your boyfriend's life," he states embarrassedly, shooting a nervous glance at an amused looking Lehnsherr.

"And I have thanked her, and the Xavier family now owes a great debt to both her and you," Charles states, looking at him seriously, "She saved Erik, and you destroyed the thing that nearly killed him. If you ever have any need of our services, we will answer your call."

"Right," Harry replies awkwardly (he'll never understand pureblood families, even the nicer ones), "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good," Charles says with a smile, "However, would you mind if I took a look at your memories? The whole description of the situation has been rather lacking in details, and I believe—"

"Charles," Lehnsherr chides, wrapping his arm around Charles' waist and drawing him closer.

Charles leans up to give him a kiss and then smiles apologetically at Harry, "I'm sorry, it's just I would like to know who it was who nearly killed Erik," he says mildly, but Harry senses the underlying steel in his voice.

(There should be someone else besides him who knows exactly what Voldemort was and Tom Riddle is, and even if he's nervous about letting someone into his head after seeing Ginny's pale, pale form, he believes Raven when she said that her brother would never purposefully hurt anyone's mind unless mad with grief. And perhaps the Ravenclaw can sort out the facts that Harry is still trying to process.)

"Go ahead then," he says tiredly, waving at his head, "If you make me pass out, please just put me in a bed and don't attempt to revive me."

"I'll be careful," Charles promises, setting two fingers at his temple.

Harry feels an odd sensation, like pages being flipped in his head, and he sees memories that he is sure aren't his (Erik blinking and Charles tearful throwing his arms around him/Charles quietly telling Erik about that day he had invaded people's minds searching for the culprit/Charles biting his lip as Erik remained silent/Erik finally telling Charles that he understands and that he would have ripped the school apart if the same had happened to Charles, but that he must never attempt that again/Charles smiling up at Erik, teasingly saying that if their positions had been reversed, the basilisk may have been found sooner since Erik would have ripped the pipes out of the walls in his fury/Erik growling, telling Charles not to joke, and giving him a long, rough kiss/the rest of the group arriving and happily greeting Erik), before Charles draws back and hurriedly whispers, So sorry, I'm a bit too happy I think. My shielding's quite shot.

"The memory in the diary was quite interesting though," he said out loud musingly, "I have never seen anything like it. Perhaps it was—"

"Less geeking out and more celebrating," Raven interrupted, drawing up and shoving Butterbeers at all three of them, "Erik is alive, Harry slayed the basilisk, and finals are cancelled. Whoo hoo!"

"Finals are cancelled?" Charles asked disbelievingly, his eyes wide, "But then how are we supposed to take N.E.W.T.s?"

"I'm sure they'll arrange something later, mein schatz," Lehnsherr said fondly, clinking their glasses together, "Now can we make up for lost time here?"

And it's the most wonderful Hogwarts feast that Harry has ever been to, even with the twins and Raven spiking most of the butterbeer with firewhiskey, Hermione bemoaning the lack of finals, Charles and Lehnsherr engaging in some serious PDA before being kicked out by an amused looking McGonagall and glowering Snape (but not before Raven had taken more blackmail photos), and Tony Stark nearly starting a fire when he decided to try out his laser fireworks.

Everything is good, and he can believe that next year will be wonderful as well.

A/N: …did it mesh okay with canon? Red and white roses together symbolize unity. Miss March and the Winter twins were a reference to the Maxim models that Tony slept with in the Iron Man Movie. Droftrottel means village idiot, and mein schatz means my love/darling/treasure.