A/N: Quidditch World Cup, Death Eater raid, Harry champion, First Task?, Yule Ball, Crouch, after Third task
August 1994
Charles had thought the most difficult part of coming to the Quidditch World Cup would be sneaking Sirius in, but in reality it was picking out a tent. Erik wanted a green tent in support of Ireland while Raven was insisting on a red one to support Bulgaria.
"Ireland is obviously going to win," Erik said stubbornly, crossing his arms in front of him.
"And Bulgaria has Viktor Krum!" Raven shot back, pointing at the red tents bedecked with Krum's scowling face, "Ooh, let's get that one!"
"No," Charles said firmly, "Perhaps we should just use the blue tents with the Xavier crest on them?"
"Can I turn them red?" Raven pleaded, twirling her wand.
"If she turns them red, I am enchanting shamrocks onto them regardless," Erik stated, drawing out his own wand.
Charles sighs, "You do realize that we are supposed to be discreet and blending in as much as possible, correct? There are Muggles around after all," he points out crossly.
"They'll be discreet shamrocks then," Erik grudgingly compromised.
It'll be the most schizophrenic tent ever, Sirius commented, scratching out the words on a piece of parchment with a pen his mouth, I bet you that Ireland will win the World Cup, but Krum will catch the Snitch.
"That's ridiculous because as soon as Krum catches the Snitch, he'll win Bulgaria the World Cup," Raven stated flatly, hands on her hips, "Krum is an amazing Seeker; he can do handstands on his broom!"
"One Seeker does not a team make, and you can do handstands on your broom," Erik shot back scathingly.
"And I am utterly awesome, which is why Puddlemere United took me," Raven replied smugly, waving her wand and turning the X emblazoned blue tents red.
"Please don't say that; you sound like Tony," Charles begged her as Erik enchanted green shamrocks that looked stitched on but wiggled slightly onto the now red tent.
"Speaking of being discreet, have you seen Tony's tent?" Raven asked eagerly, bending forward and scratching Sirius' neck, "It's red and gold and has three stories!"
"Pepper must be strangling him as we speak," Erik commented, setting up the tent and examining it critically.
"Well, at least you're off duty," Charles offered as they entered the tent and looked at the sweeping staircase and multitude of bedrooms lining the space, "Huh, I think we took the biggest one on accident."
"Tony's is bigger, and it has an—"
"—Olympic sized swimming pool and a hot tub full of Veelas right now," George finishes as both grinning twins pop into the tent.
"Fred! George!" Charles exclaims happily as he draws both twins in for a hug, "What have you two been up to lately? How are the trick wands coming along? And those candies?"
"Mom banned us from bringing in the Ton-Tongue Toffees," George said gloomily, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Just because we had—"
"—one little incident with Harry's cousin doesn't mean we can't be trusted!" Fred said firmly, holding a hand to his chest, "We're still working on the Canary Creams. The trick wands are coming along well though."
"Oh, and we bet Ludo Bagman thirty-seven galleons, fifteen sickles, three knuts, and a joke wand that Ireland's going to win, but Krum is going to catch the Snitch," George adds as Sirius barks gleefully.
"What?" Charles said in a horrified tone, "But that's all your savings!"
"Oh, live a little Charles," Raven called out, leaning over the railing, "How else are they supposed to make enough money to start a joke shop? Although I still think that the two of you are wrong; Krum is going to lead Bulgaria to victory."
"If you two need money, I can give it to you," Charles insisted seriously, "Ludo Bagman is a bit…how to put it…?"
"Unscrupulous," Erik answered, frowning slightly, "I've heard he has money problems."
"And we've heard that you do ritual animal sacrifice every night, so is there something you should be telling us, Magneto?" Fred shot back with a mulish expression, "Thanks for the offer Professor, but it'll be fine. You're already funding our research—"
"—and any more is going to be too much," George finished stubbornly, "You have to save some of that money for all the adorable little kids that you and Magneto are eventually going to adopt, you know? Don't worry though, once our shop is up and running—"
"—you'll be a major shareholder," Fred said firmly, drawing out a box labeled 'Trick Wands,' "Oh, and we brought you some of these to look at. Bagman was impressed by them."
"As long as you think you know what you're doing," Charles said worriedly (he didn't like Bagman taking advantage of underage wizards and their money, and despite the sheer number of rumors that went on in the Ministry, he was fairly sure that Erik was right about Bagman's money problems. Between Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch, organizing the Triwizard Tournament was turning into a much more irritating task than he had initially thought it would be), taking the box from Fred as Sirius butted his head against his leg, "Ah, so Harry is with your family?"
"Him and Hermione," George replied, "We think—"
"—that Ronniekins has a little crush," Fred said gleefully, "Want to come with us to tease them?"
"Let's," Raven answered happily, turning her hair scarlet with streaks of gold and black, and Sirius followed the three red-heads out the tent.
"Well hopefully he'll get a chance to talk to Harry," Charles said, sitting down in one of the overstuffed blue chairs, "I still find it unfortunate that he couldn't visit us over the summer."
"His relatives seem rather terrible," Erik commented, setting up the wizarding chess set on the table, "Shall we also bet on the outcome of the game?"
"Attempt to pit my knowledge of Quidditch teams against yours?" Charles asked in an amused tone, moving his pawn forward, "It seems like a bad idea."
"I could make it worth your while," Erik suggests idly, giving him an absolutely filthy look over the board and sending graphic images along to accompany it.
Charles pinks and coughs, "Shall we say that if Ireland wins, you can do all that to me?" he murmurs, giving Erik a hooded glance (and a shared flare of heat and lust), "And that if Raven is correct, you could perhaps wear your old Quidditch uniform to bed?"
"Kinky," Erik laughed with a flash of teeth, "I will be looking forward to my victory then."
(And later on, when they see Krum raise up the Snitch from their high, high seats, but Ireland win anyway, to Raven's shrieks of rage, Charles feels Erik's breath on his neck as he wraps his arms around Charles' waist from behind.
"Make our excuses to Tony," he murmurs into Charles' ear, "We will be otherwise occupied tonight."
"Very well," he murmurs back, snuggling deeper into Erik's arms.
Losing had never been quite so appealing before.)
The yells grow louder, and Erik rolls over, slightly dislodging a sleeping Charles (and he briefly admires his red marks running down Charles' neck and chest again), to properly yell at Raven and the rest of the Gryffindors (somehow their tent had been invaded by the twins, Hank the lone Ravenclaw in this group, and Oliver after the game, most likely because Tony's tent already had far too many people in it) to pipe down already when he starts to hear the screams from outside.
Rioters? (Or something worse?)
He doesn't waste any time in grabbing his wand and shaking Charles awake.
"Hm?" Charles said sleepily, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye, "Erik, what is it?"
"Something's happening," he replied shortly, pulling on his pants and robes, "I'm going to go check on it."
Charles frowned and moved his fingers up to his temple. His eyes widened (fearanger), and he said abruptly, "We have to get Raven and the rest of them out of here."
"What is it? What's going on?" Erik demanded, tossing Charles his trousers as Charles scrambled out of the bed and grabbed his wand.
"Death Eaters," Charles replied shortly, pulling on his clothes.
Something in him freezes, and the tent itself shudders (metal poles as supports because it was easier for all of them to set up) until Charles sends a cool pulse of (calmpeaceIamHereWithYou) to him and takes his hand.
"Come on," he says gently, squeezing his hand reassuringly as Raven burst into their bedroom.
"Erik! Charles!" she yelled, one hand over her eyes, "There's Death Eaters outside, so put some clothes on!"
"We're already dressed, Raven" Charles said in an exasperated tone, pushing her hand down, "How close are they?"
"One poked his head in, trying to scare us I think, but Hank freaked out and punched him," Raven replied, hurrying down the stairs with them.
"Is he dead?" Erik asked tersely (Hank had developed an impressive amount of strength after his idiotic experiment the year before), taking in the huddled group of slightly fearful looking teenagers filling the tent.
"Was still breathing, so I stunned him, and then we tied him up," Raven replied gesturing at the hooded, masked man bundled up on the ground, "What's the plan?"
"We need to get all of you out of here, right now, it's not safe," Charles said firmly, gathering the teens together and glancing at Erik, "You have a job to do?"
"I'll see all of you to the Portkey spots first," Erik replied adamantly, taking the compressed metal spiders from his robes, and sending them skittering out the door in their full-fledged terrifying glory.
(He wants to rip through these Death Eaters, shake them down until they reveal all they know about Shaw, and then end their miserable little existences, it's a screaming song in his head. But there is also the thrum of his heart and mind, the constant drumming need for Charles and Raven, for their makeshift little family to be safe that drowns out the crying desire for revenge. He wants Shaw dead; he will never rest until that happens, but at the same time, he can't risk Charles and Raven's lives for Shaw's death. Nothing could ever be worth their lives, and he just can't.)
Charles gives him one last squeeze of the hand and a smile (the sheer amount of affection and love that he feels staggers him every time), and then begins to herd the teenagers out of the tent.
They walk out not a moment too soon because a group of Death Eaters are attempting to set their tent on fire (but not getting very far because Erik suspected that Charles' ancestors had either been paranoid or had had too many wild parties and had put enough protecting charms on the tent to withstand a volcano). They are soon either pinned to the ground by one of Erik's spiders, one or more of their limbs transfigured into flippers by Raven, pelted with Dungbombs by the twins, bitten by Sirius, stunned and punched into submission by both Oliver and Hank, or all of the above.
However, there are more arriving, and Erik bares his teeth in violent exultation as his spiders begin to click at an even higher and faster frequency (kill them, kill them all), when Charles touches his arm gently.
Let me handle this, Charles breathes before focusing on the approaching Death Eaters, putting his fingers to his temple, pointing his wand at them, and saying softly (but terribly), "Stop. Go turn yourselves into the Ministry."
The hooded figures all stop, sway, and turn and walk away as one. Charles steadies himself against Erik (he feels Charles' slight disgust at what he has done along with his steely determination to keep all of them safe) as the teens look from the departing Death Eaters, to Charles, and back at the Death Eaters.
The twins are the first to break the (awed? Scared? He can't tell, but he thinks it's a combination with the wary way Charles holds himself, so he brushes their hands together again, in mind as in life) silence.
"You've gotten new tricks Professor! Why didn't you—"
"—tell us? And you should have told them to—"
"—do something entertaining like slap themselves or—"
"—light themselves on fire—"
"—transfigure themselves into baboons—"
"—so that the outside matches the inside—"
"—but then they'd have to be snakes—"
"—no offense meant to Magneto though, those compressed spiders—"
"—are bloody brilliant, can we have some?"
"No," Erik replied, urging his spiders back from the twins (he wouldn't put it past the two of them to somehow come up with a way to capture one, and he doesn't even want to imagine the sort of chaos the two redheads could wreck with one of his creations).
"Indeed, no," Charles echoes apologetically as the twins pout at him in appeal, "I'm afraid Erik's spiders are rather weaponized."
"You're just like mum," Fred huffed as George attempted to poke one of the spiders with a stick, only for the spider to snap the stick in half with its pincers.
"Perhaps," replied Charles cheerfully, his composure regained (and mind less jittery), leading their group forward again while Erik takes the back (he just hopes that someone tries to sneak up on them), "It's not far now; we can all just portkey back to my home and then—"
An explosion, and then a sickly greenish-grey skull rises up into the sky, and it opens it jaws to allow a snake to come slithering out, and it's like one of Erik's nightmares come to life.
(He had been screaming, all the metal in the house clashing and whirling in unison with his rage, his mother's dead body lying on the ground, and his father's downstairs, but nothing hits Shaw, and his tormentor simply had a delighted look on his face.
"Excellent, excellent!" he had said, turning to his bored looking blonde female companion, "He is absolutely fascinating; I'm going to take him for further studies."
"As you wish," she replied, filing her nails disdainfully.
And suddenly, something, someone was crawling around in his mind, jabbing at him with cold, hard spikes until he was overwhelmed with pain and could no longer reach for the metal around him.
As Shaw grabs him by the shoulder, he tuts and then turns around again, "Nearly forgot," he muses conversationally as he pulls out his wand again and incants, "Incedio, Morsmorde."
The last sight Erik has of his childhood home is of it wreathed in flames with the green skull and snake rising above it with the smoke of all that he had known.)
He is snapped out of his memories (his nightmares, except that in those sometimes the house that he sees the Dark Mark rise over is the Xavier mansion instead) by Charles wrapping his arms around his waist and whispering fiercely, It's not going to happen again. You won't let it, and I will not either, so our nightmares will never come to pass. Never, I promise you.
He manages to nod jerkily, and they manage to hurry the gawking teenagers away to the portkey sight, without any further trouble, although the twins do take the opportunity to test a Canary Cream on Hank, which results in him sprouting feathers. Raven transfigures them off, and gives both twins antlers in retaliation, which they decide they like anyway.
(Everyone pops into the Xavier at some point throughout the night and into the next morning to both check on everyone else and to show that they are unharmed. Tony brags about how badly some of the Death Eaters had pissed themselves when he had revealed the twenty feet tall Stupefy 7000s in his workshop while Pepper scolds him for revealing prototype Stark technology. Darwin wryly tells Erik that Pepper had jelly-leg jinxed both Death Eaters that had been preoccupied by the Stupefy 7000s, and that he and Alex had taken down a few Death Eaters as well, until the Dark Mark had been cast, spooking Alex so badly that he had accidentally cast a flurry of Incendios in fear, which had led to the Death Eaters managing to get away. The Weasley family arrives with a shaken looking Hermione and Harry, who Sirius automatically bounds up to and nuzzles comfortingly. Less welcome guests such as MacTaggert and the Wolverine stop by as well to check on them, and Erik suffers having them here only because Charles is quietly dozing in his arms, and any sort of banishing action will surely wake him up.
Later on, he's swamped at work trying to figure out who actually cast the Dark Mark, all of the Death Eaters having stampeded away as soon as it appeared. The few that had been captured or compelled to turn themselves in by Charles are relatively small-fry (and he is very disappointed not to see Lucius Malfoy in their number), and do not reveal any new information. Between his new duties as an Auror, Charles' involvement in the Triwizard Tournament, and Raven's new position in Puddlemere United, he thinks it's going to be a busy year.)
November 1994
Raven is pulling off her gloves and wondering if her muddy boots were salvageable (it didn't matter what Charles said; dragon skin boots were the way to go, even if they were heinously expensive) when Oliver bursts into the locker room with the Daily Prophet.
"Raven!" he yells, only to be pelted by various shampoo bottles and combs and shrieks of the other female members of the team, "Oh right, sorry! But Raven seriously, look!"
"What Oliver?" she snaps, throwing a wet towel at him (she didn't really care if he saw her without clothes on or not since her true form had ridges and scales that covered up anything really private, but it was the whole principle of the matter. Really it was more convenient off a broomstick to go without clothes, especially since she could shift on anything she really wanted to wear, but Charles nearly had a heart-attack the last time she had tried that. Erik had talked to him about tigers, and how you never looked at one of those and thought they were naked, but Charles had replied that tigers were not his little sister who could be ogled at by unsavory people, and he would prefer her to have more layers between herself and said people. She wears normal clothes most of the time to satisfy him, but if she wants a particular sort of dress that she doesn't feel like buying, well Charles doesn't need to know about that, does he?)
"Look," Oliver insists, tossing her the Daily Prophet, before he's mobbed and pushed out of the locker room by angry female teammates.
Raven takes and unfolds the paper on the bench, and reads the screaming headlines of Boy Who Lived Fourth Champion in Triwizard Tournament! Sabotage: Goblet of Fire Broken?
Sirius was not going to be happy. And what was Charles thinking letting Harry go through with this? What wasErik (who had been dragged into the whole tournament as both security and translator because Erik was ridiculously fluent and Crouch kept looking worse and worse)?
She and Sirius both repeat (more like shout perhaps) the question to her brothers when they arrive home.
Charles frowns as he dusts off the soot from both his and Erik's robes, "Honestly, I was against it, but Mr. Crouch insisted, as did Mr. Bagman, and they outvoted me."
"And as security, obviously my opinions count for nothing," Erik stated sarcastically, hanging his cloak on a hook.
"And Dumbledore allowed this?" Sirius asked, appalled, hands balling up into fists.
"The headmaster seems to think we have no choice in the matter," Charles replied tiredly, holding up a hand, "Believe me, I tried to talk Harry's way out of it, but Mr. Crouch kept talking about magical contracts and the Goblet's decisions, and in the end the headmaster overruled both my suggestion to try to undo the contract and Erik's idea just to cancel the whole thing."
"Well obviously they couldn't cancel it," Raven said, rolling her eyes, "It's the Triwizard Tournament! Do you know how long Fred and George took on that Aging Potion to try and get in? I wish I could do it; I knew I should have just blown off my N.E.W.T.s"
"And be like Flint? Perish the thought," Erik cut in wryly before Charles could start his speech on the importance of N.E.W.T.s and a well-rounded education, "I thought the headmaster would appreciate a break from all the chaos and drama that has been Hogwarts since Harry Potter arrived, but apparently not."
"It's not Harry's fault," Raven protested, giving a dismissive wave of her hand, "He hates attention. Absolutely loathes it. It's just that trouble just seems to dodge his footsteps."
"Regardless, that does bring up the troubling question of who did put his name in the Goblet," Charles interjected worriedly, sitting down in his favorite overstuffed armchair, "I wanted to bring in Moody to investigate, but apparently he was indisposed. But no matter what, it couldn't have been just some simple prank; the Goblet is an extremely powerful artifact, to have managed to make it choose four champions instead of three is quite beyond the knowledge or power of a student."
"Unless Malfoy has been training with his Death Eater father over the summer," Sirius commented darkly, leaning against the banister.
"Draco Malfoy? Please," Raven said dismissively, perching herself on the arm of Charles' chair.
Sirius glowers at them and argues, "Lucius Malfoy was one of the most highly ranked of the Death Eaters—"
"And we are aware of that, but the son is not the father," Charles interrupted in a steely tone, "I'm willing to bleed the Malfoys dry politically and perhaps economically, but I am not about to throw around unfounded accusations that are extremely serious."
"Plus, you didn't grow up with him," Raven commented, grinning as some old memories popped back into her head, "Remember that time Erik made him cry?"
"Which one?" Charles asked dryly, looking up at Erik fondly.
Erik snorts and then says seriously to Sirius, "I'll keep an eye on him, but I'm with Charles and Raven on this one; if the brat knew magic like that, he'd already have cursed Harry to kingdom come; the brat complains about him enough to sound like a jealous ex-girlfriend."
"Because of course you have so much experience in that area," Raven says sarcastically and dodges the pillows her brothers throw at her, "Just saying! Anyway, don't worry Sirius, Charles is a judge, and Erik's in charge of security. Harry will be fine."
(Later when she's watching Harry zoom around on his Firebolt while dodging the Hungarian Horntail's fire, Sirius is glaring at her and attempts to shred the sleeve of her new red coat in retaliation.
"Hey!" she hisses, pulling her sleeve from his mouth, "Bite Charles or Erik if you're so mad! I didn't have anything to do with this!"
"Neither of us wanted it either," Erik grumpily mutters, shifting in his seat, eyes tracking Harry's movements, "Do you know how much trouble it is to import four dragons from Romania? Charles tried to sell them Tony's robots, but evidently dragons are more 'exciting,'" he says, disdain dripping from every word.
"Actually, maybe Tony's robots would have been worse," Raven amends as Harry manages to scoop up the golden egg, and then winces as the dragon's tail slams into him, "Or maybe not."
After rushing Sirius into the first aid tent to see a mostly unharmed Harry, they go out again to hear the results, in which Charles gives Harry a 9, tying him for first place with Krum.
Sirius is wagging his tail and barking in delight, and Raven pats Harry on the back and notices happily that he and Ron seem to have reconciled (Hermione had owled her about it, asking her what to do when your best friends were being idiots, and she had advised the younger Gryffindor girl that you just had to let them run the course of their stupidity, and then eventually they would hopefully make up. Boys.)
The feast later is great, and she can't wait for the next event.)
December 1994
Charles finishes tying Erik's black bow tie and stands back to beam at him and drink in the dark, straight lines of Erik's dress robes.
"You look quite handsome," he says lightly, running a hand down Erik's chest.
"Handsome enough for us to make our excuses and stay in instead?" Erik suggests hopefully, catching Charles' hand with his own and sending him ideas of exactly what they could get up to with everyone out of the mansion.
"A very tempting thought, but duty calls," Charles says regretfully, drawing away and leading Erik to the fireplace.
Raven bounds up to them, twirling around in her shimmery gray-green dress, "How do I look?" she asks.
"Lovely; you'll have everyone at the ball at your feet," Erik replies warmly, handing her her cloak.
"You look beautiful, Raven," Charles says wistfully, smoothing out the curls of her longer red hair, "Our little sister, all grown up and a star Quidditch player now."
Raven grins and grabs both of her brothers' hands, "Oh stop, you're making me blush. Now onto the ball!"
They whirl through the green flames to arrive in Professor Flitwick's office (who had been so understanding during their years at Hogwarts about the importance of having a link home and had been delighted to maintain it afterwards just so Charles and occasionally Erik could come by to chat) where the Charms professor stops his bustling about with sheet music to beam at them.
"Hello!" he exclaims, hurrying up to greet them, "You're just in time! The banquet is over, but the dancing is about to begin, although we may need you to patrol the hallways or rosebushes at some point."
"Chaperoning a giant group of hormone-addled teenagers, so much better than a night spent at home," Erik muttered sarcastically as Professor Flitwick hurries away.
"And who was it that made us miss the banquet by probably messing around?" Raven asked, hands on hips (and Charles flushes because she's not far off the mark, but snogging Erik was just so much more interesting than a banquet full of small talk), "You're still nineteen yourself, don't act so high and mighty."
"Don't worry," Charles murmurs to Erik, curling their fingers together as Raven happily twirls around to Hank who is nervously tugging at his bow-tie, "I will definitely make it up to you later."
Erik gives him a shark-like grin as the music starts, "May I have this dance?" he asks smoothly, mockingly bowing to him.
Charles grins at him as he places his hand on Erik's proffered arm, "You may indeed, sir," he says teasingly, blue eyes dancing with merriment.
Erik places his hand on Charles' waist and drags him close as Charles places his hand on Erik's shoulder. He and Erik move in tandem across the dance floor, Erik spinning and catching him easily, and Charles is quite thankful for childhood dancing lessons (with Erik as his partner, through a dint of pleading, begging, large sad wide-eyed looks until Erik had caved. The dancing instructor had pointed out that Charles really didn't have to learn to follow, but even then he had enjoyed Erik, always taller than him, guiding them across the floor. Besides, he could learn to lead with Raven instead.) when he sees Neville Longbottom stepping on Ginny Weasley's foot multiple times, Harry's date practically dragging him across the dance floor, and Ron's sulky expression with his date.
"Having fun?" Erik asks, as he lifts Charles up into the air.
"I can't remember the last time we did this," Charles laughs as Erik sets him down again.
We could do it again, sometime, if you like, Erik offers awkwardly, sending a picture of the grand, empty ballrooms of the Xavier mansion to him.
A party? Erik, you hate large numbers of people coming to the house, Charles points out as the music slows down into a more romantic ballad.
But you would like it, Erik points out softly, drawing him closer.
Charles lays his head on Erik's shoulder to smile up at him, I love you, you know that?
Because I let you have parties? Erik asks, amused, still swaying them slightly to the soft music.
Because you are wonderful, Charles corrects, closing his eyes, and you are mine, and I am yours.
(And it doesn't matter that it's been nearly five years since he had kissed a stunned Erik by the lake for the first time, he still is sometimes overwhelmed by the feeling of how lucky he is when he wakes up in the morning to see Erik either sleeping soundly by his side or tracing patterns down his back with his long, long fingers. He's fairly sure people are not meant to be this lucky, to be this happy. He knows Erik thinks that as well, and he knows that this peace cannot last. You-Know-Who has been gone a long time, long enough for most of the wizarding world to have deemed him dead, but he hears fearful whispers in the Ministry, and Erik has been getting disturbing reports. Something will happen, and he only hopes that they will wear it out and return here again.)
"Yes," Erik says seriously, tilting Charles' chin up so that they look each other in the eye, "Always."
"Always," Charles agrees, leaning in just a little closer to give Erik a chaste peck on the lips.
Erik grips his arms tight when he tries to draw back, deepening their kiss and cupping the back of his head. Charles is curling his fingers through Erik's hair, surging forward, when someone coughs and kicks him in the shin.
"Professor McGonagall wishes for me to inform you two that they need you to go patrol the rose bushes," Raven says merrily, grinning as Erik glared at her, "She also wishes me to remind you that they don't want a repeat of your sixth year's end of year feast."
"Those were extraordinary circumstances! And we still haven't seen Professor Moody yet!" Charles protested, trying to smooth out his tangled hair.
"He's probably around," Raven replied cheerfully, giving them a shove toward the door, "Off you go then, emotionally traumatize as many random students as you like out there!"
(While Erik does manage to frighten at least half a dozen couples with his spiders to Charles' exasperation, and they team up with an irritated Professor Snape at one point who seems especially vicious after a strange hurried conversation with Professor Karkaroff, they never do see Professor Moody, and most of their night is spent comforting a crying Hermione along with Raven and Pepper.
"Ron is such an idiot!" she sobs, grabbing another tissue from the huge pile Charles had summoned.
"All boys are," Raven nodded sagely, patting her on the back, "But they grow out of it."
"Most of the time," Pepper amended, casting another Knockback Jinx as Tony tried to approach.
"It'll be alright," Charles said soothingly, taking the cake and cup of hot tea Erik had brought and setting it in front of the crying girl, "You'll see."
"Definitely," Raven said, still nodding, "If these two emotionally constipated boneheads could get it together, Ron can too."
"We weren't that bad," Charles protested as Erik sat down next to him.
"You were," Pepper replied placidly, "Worse even. You don't know how many people rejoiced when they two of you finally figured it out."
"You still haven't told me who bet on us," Erik said bitterly, pointing at Pepper.
"And I never will; client confidentiality and all that," Pepper replies with a luminescent smile.
Hermione gives a choking laugh as she sips her tea, "Thanks," she said softly.
"Don't worry about it!" Raven said cheerfully, drawing her up, "You can talk to me or Pepper anytime about boys and their idiocy; we have lots of experience."
"I want it noted that I resent being compared to Tony," Erik muttered as Raven and Pepper began to share their stories with Hermione.
"Don't worry my dear; you are much more handsome," Charles says teasingly before Erik pulls him in to resume their interrupted kiss in the ballroom.)
February 1995
Hank thinks something is really wrong when he gets the third notice from Mr. Crouch saying that he was too ill to come to work, and he's voiced his concerns to Charles who is also mildly worried, but neither of them can really do anything until the Second Task is over anyway.
He really should be back in the lab (the Jericho Spell-Missiles are nearly done, but he still wants to check everything over anyway), but Raven had insisted that he take a break and accompany her to watch the tournament. Sitting shivering above the lake, waiting for the champions to come back (because it seemed that no one had thought to inform Tony until it was much too late that scrying spell robots to follow the champions into the lake and project what was going on up above would be nice to have), would be unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that he's sharing a blanket and thermos of hot chocolate with Raven.
"I think Fred and George have some problem with Bagman," she confides to him, sipping the hot chocolate.
"Like what?" he asks, blinking owlishly at her.
"They won't tell me, but I think it has to do with that bet during the World Cup," Raven said grimly, passing him the thermos.
"You could try asking Mr. Bagman," Hank suggests, taking a long drag of the hot chocolate (spiced with just the hint of pepper, an odd combination that Raven loved and had introduced him to).
"Like he would tell me," Raven replied crossly, kicking the stand in front of her idly, "It's annoying, people having so many secrets. They won't even tell Charles, can you believe that?"
"Mm," Hank replied awkwardly, scooting closer to Raven.
(Their relationship had endured despite the long hours he spends in Stark labs and she spends on the practice fields. He had thought that it couldn't, that she would soon find many other more glamorous, more gregarious people to be with who share her interests, and that she would wonder why she is wasting her time with him. She's still here though, dragging him out of the lab or sitting up with him and bringing him food when he really can't leave. He goes to all of the games that she plays in and cheers as loudly as he can, and maybe he can hope for a little longer that this will last.)
"Where is Harry?" Raven groused, shifting in her seat and glancing at the clock, "It's already been an hour. Any longer, and Erik's going to have to dive in there, and then Charles is going to fret and fret."
"Harry used gillyweed, and there is a debate between herbologists about whether fresh water versus salt water affects it or not, but generally the effects last an hour," Hank begins to muse out loud, clutching at the blanket, "Given that it has been more than an hour—"
Harry's head bursts out of the water, along with Ron's and a small blonde girl's. As they swim to the shore, the Beauxbatons champion runs toward them along with Percy Weasley (standing in for Mr. Crouch again, and it was really strange because the impression he had got from working for the man over the course of the summer as the liaison between Stark Industries and the Triwizard Tournament was that Mr. Crouch wouldn't let a plague stop him from going to work, much less a long-lasting cold).
"Typical," Raven sighs as Harry hands the small blonde girl over to the tearful Beauxbatons champion, "He really doesn't go looking for it, but he always ends up the hero."
"He is the Boy Who Lived," Hank pointed out as Charles quickly wraps all of the dripping people in heat-charmed blankets.
"But he never acts like it; he's so ordinary most of the time, until he gets into situations like this, and most of the time he's not even looking for it; they just happen to him," Raven argues back, "It's just weird that someone so unassuming ends up being the hero every time."
"It's not a bad thing," Hank says, confused at why Raven is persisting in this point.
"Yeah I know, it's just—it's odd. Things just keep happening with him around," Raven says, running a hand through her hair before eagerly asking him, "Are you coming to Erik's birthday party?"
Hank nods, grinning weakly, even though he would rather go to Afghanistan himself to demonstrate the Jericho Spell-Missiles (Tony's insane plan once they were finally done that even Pepper couldn't talk him out of) than have to try to pick out a gift for Erik Lehnsherr.
"You can't go wrong with a tie," Raven assures him, reading his worried expression, "Or one of those black turtlenecks Erik loves. It'll go great with the dragon-skin coat me and Charles are getting him, and it'll be fine, you'll see!"
(The party is surprisingly quite fun, even though every time Hank tries to slow dance with Raven, Erik glares at him until Charles chides and pulls him away, but not without giving Hank a warning glance.
"I'm surprised that Erik agreed to have such a big party," he ventures, carefully trying to not step on Raven's feet.
Raven snorts and gracefully lands back into his arms, "He's doing this to make Charles happy," she explained, "He promised a big party in the house, and since Charles' birthday and mine are both far away, he said his could be the party."
"That's surprisingly selfless of him," Hank says, disbelievingly.
Raven gives him a wry look that says that she knows exactly how terrified Hank is of Erik, "I'm sure Charles will make it up to him," she says with another roll of her eyes, "And our birthday parties are definitely going to be smaller. Did you know that Tony tried to bring in strippers?"
Hank goggled at her. He couldn't believe anyone would try the wrath of Erik on his home turf, but then again, it was Tony.
"Yeah," Raven continued blithely, "Pepper put a full body bind on him though and cancelled the order."
The music speeds up at this point, to a peppy song that thrums through the room, and Hank, seeing Raven's look of excitement, asks quietly, "Do you still want to dance?"
"Are you sure?" she asks, glancing at him, "If you don't feel like it—"
"I do," he insists, moving awkwardly to the beat.
And he really does in the end, because it's a pleasure to watch Raven move sinuously to the music, even if he can't entirely keep up. He loves her, as much as it terrifies him, and it's wonderful to see her so full of joy and happiness.)
June 1995
The maze is a security nightmare. It's not just the creatures that had to be imported (he still doesn't see the necessity of a sphinx, or the legality of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts, but Charles had been absolutely delighted by everything), the maze itself had been charmed to move around and attack, and it gave Erik a headache trying to figure out the security measures necessary.
"It should be fine," Charles reassured him, fidgeting in the stands, "If they get into any real trouble, they'll send up sparks, and off you go."
"The problem is what is left of them by the time I manage to get there," Erik grumbled, keeping his wand out warily, "If I run into that Blast-Ended Skrewt, it could take awhile. Those things can melt my spiders."
"They are interesting creatures, aren't they?" Charles said with a grin, "I've been talking to Hagrid about them; did you know he bred them himself?"
"Why does that not surprise me? And you do remember that that's illegal? And that you've already used up most of your favors with the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures last year?" Erik reminded him, nudging his shoulder.
"Director Fury cleared it," Charles declared primly, attempting to settle into Erik's side, "And he also checked all of the maze's security, so it should be fine!"
"Which is of course why you can't stop fluttering around worriedly," Erik pointed out, placing a hand on Charles' jittering knee to still it.
Charles laughs awkwardly, ducking his head down, "I thought that the tournament would be quite fun, but I haven't really enjoyed any of the tasks," he admits, smoothing a hand down Erik's leg, "Too many dangerous scenarios. And Mr. Crouch's death was just strange."
"Indeed, but we'll get to the bottom of it," Erik reassured him, drawing Charles closer to his side, "And just be glad they hadn't decided to do it last year, or else Raven would have certainly tried to be the Hogwarts champion."
Charles shudders, "Thank god for small mercies," he says with conviction, glancing at Raven who was down goofing off with the Weasley twins and hanging off of Hank's arm.
"You might have to go through the attic again," Erik said wryly, following Charles' gaze, "Do the Xaviers have traditional wedding things?"
"We have some rings, but those are reserved for the head of the family. There is a lovely wedding veil though that my mother used to marry my father," Charles said absentmindedly before snapping back up to meet Erik's amused look, "But Raven is far too young to get married."
"I agree," Erik stated, clasping Charles' hands in his, "But she seems unfortunately fixated on that boy, so the better question is probably when they are going to get married, and which one of us should give her away during the wedding."
"I don't even want to think about it," Charles moaned, pressing his head into Erik's shoulder, "Our little sister, married! But we should both give her away, on that sad, sad day."
"Indeed we will," Erik agreed with Charles amiably, lightly stroking his hair.
Charles brightened and looked up at him, "Although, on that sad, sad day, perhaps we can order multiple kinds of cakes? It would be absolutely lovely—"
There is a bang, and Harry Potter lands in the middle of the stands, clutching something (someone?), and the band begins to play its raucously cheerful, triumphant, congratulatory song to the cheers of the onlookers. Harry doesn't look happy though; he's still crouched over the person lying on the ground (injured? But even from here, Erik can see the unnatural angle of the body), rocking back and forth (sobbing?).
Charles suddenly stands up, rolling off of him as Amos Diggory also stumbles to a stand.
"Get him out of here," he tells Erik seriously, as Amos Diggory begins to walk slowly down the stands, "Get him out of here now, Erik."
"That's my son," Amos Diggory says numbly, and then his face crumples, "That's my boy!"
And Erik is shoving his way forward (is he dead?), using the metal stands to rattle away the people who stand in his and Amos Diggory's way (could something like that happen here?), and he barely manages to drag a screaming Harry away from the body (but in the end, hasn't he always known that nowhere is safe?), having to hook the zippers and various metal bits of his clothes to get him away.
"He's back," the boy sobs, still staring at Cedric Diggory's body, "Voldemort is back."
Erik freezes, staring at the crouched, tear-stained face of the Gryffindor boy.
(There had only been one time when Erik had seen the head of the Death Eaters, Shaw's Dark Lord having decided to come see what had been so preoccupying his pet scientist for so long.
He still remembers his cold, clammy hands jerking his head up, and the way he had to force himself not to flinch, not to shudder, not to scream because whoever he was looking at could not be human. His flesh was the pale gray of a corpse, he had slits where his nose was supposed to be, and his eyes were livid red, flat, slitted, and cruel.
"This is the boy?" he rasped, jerking Erik's head forward to look him in the eyes, "You disappoint me, Sebastian; I expected something better."
"With all due respect my lord, his Occlumency is astounding for his age," Shaw said respectfully, still bowing on the ground, "Emma is having a harder and harder time forcing herself in. And he has an interesting affinity toward metal."
"Very well," he said disdainfully, shoving Erik away and wiping his hand on his robe in disgust, "You may continue your research in this area Sebastian, but mark my words: if any of your other work falls behind, you will regret it."
"Of course, my lord," Shaw replied, "My work on prophecies and the Fidelius Charm are going well."
"See to it," he had commanded, striding away, and Erik had known at that moment that he has to get away, because he had felt the touch of his mind, and it was rotten, disgusting, and decayed, somehow far worse than the sharp, cold pain of Frost's, and he's trying not to retch, and he has to get away from this thing because otherwise he knows, he will die.)
"I'll take him from here," Moody said abruptly (where had he come from? This is the first time he's seen Moody since all those years ago), tugging Harry away from him and through the crowd.
He's trying to move the Diggorys to a more secure location (and refrain from punching or strangling a bleating Fudge who is claiming that Cedric Diggory is simply injured), when Charles flits into his mind and asks urgently, Where's Harry?
Moody has him, Erik replies distractedly, trying to give the Diggorys (and Fudge) a Calming Draught.
He feels the reverberations of Charles' mind hopping forward to check on Moody, and then the explosion of panicpanicThat'sNotMoodyDeathEaterErikGetHereNowI'llGetReinforcementsGoUpThereNow!
He's rushing up the stairs, and he can hear all the suits of armor and his spiders skittering up with him (a Death Eater, right under all of their noses, how did this happen, what had Dumbledore, what had Fury, what had he himself been doing all this time to have missed this?), and he arrives in front of Moody's door at the same time as a tight-mouthed Charles (mind a tempest), and a hard-eyed Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape.
Nodding at each other, they burst through the door together, and the three professors fire off Stunning Spells at a Moody who is pointing his wand at Harry while Erik makes his spiders pin him to the ground, and Charles walks forward, fingers on his temple, wand outstretched, and says, "Stop. Who are you?"
The man who wears Moody's face laughs and says, "I am Barty Crouch Jr. Oh, and Erik Lehnsherr? Herr Shaw sends his warmest regards. He understands you have a wonderful family now."
Erik snarls (he's back, he's there, he knows where he is, he has to find him and kill him, he dares to threaten Charles and Raven, he has to die), clenching his fist to make the spider wrap its long, thin legs around the Death Eater and squeeze, but Charles gently touches his arm.
No, he says gently, (a warm wave of protectiveness and fierce love washing over his mind), Don't let him provoke you, don't let him win. He still has to tell us everything that he knows.
Erik takes a deep breath (he needs him alive to find Shaw) and waves his hand to let the spider loosen its grip on Crouch.
Crouch's features ripple, and his twists and turns to reveal a gaunt, blonde young man. Under Charles' quiet but unyielding interrogation, he confesses to everything: how he had gotten out of Azkaban, how he had captured Moody and impersonated him for an entire year, how he managed to get Harry into the Triwizard Tournament, how he had manipulated everything so that Harry would win, how he had killed his father, and how the Dark Lord was once more alive due to an ancient dark ritual and Harry's blood.
All the metal is shaking and rattling in the room by the time Crouch is done, and it's only because they have to take the real Moody (much frailer looking than the gruff Auror he remembers) and a shaking Harry (no longer a child) to the hospital wing that he manages to drag himself away from the room, flicking his wrist and flattening out a chandelier into a makeshift gurney for Moody.
McGonagall is stationed to watch the Death Eater, and they walk down to the hospital wing, Erik taking deep breaths to try to maintain the steady glide of the gurney.
It's starting, he says blankly to Charles who is clutching his hand as though it is a lifeline, After so long.
Yes, Charles replies simply, pulling his hand up and brushing a kiss over his knuckles, And we will fight and come out of it, I promise you this Erik.
But you can't, he replies bleakly, feeling his hands tremble, You can't promise that.
But I will try my best to, as long as you do as well, Charles replies, steely (and he feels as though the room has stopped spinning somewhat), Trust me Erik.
He may not have much faith in many things, least of all promises made during a war ("Alles ist gut, Erik, alles ist gut,"), but he has trusted Charles for so long (since he had promised that he would never be alone again), and so he nods and squeezes his hand.
If there is to be another war, at least this time he will not have to face it on his own.
(Later, Charles has to restrain him from attempting to murder the minister for administering the Dementor's Kiss to Barty Crouch Jr.
That was our one lead! Erik yells furiously, trying to twist out of Charles' grip, Our one chance!
And there will be others, Charles says seriously, gripping him even tighter, But Erik, you need to calm down. I am not letting you lose control over this.
He only stands down when Harry brokenly asks for there to be no further violence (he forgets sometimes that the Boy Who Lived has actually lived a more peaceful life than him in some respects), and Dumbledore takes over, trying to convince the cowering Fudge that the Dark Lord has returned.
Fudge refuses to believe however (coward and fool, and he hates that he's in charge), and storms out of the hospital wing angrily.
Dumbledore sighs and looks at Charles and Erik.
"The Order will have to be reinstated," he said tiredly, looking as though all his years were weighing upon him, "However, many of the former members are now gone. Would you mind, Mr. Xavier, Mr. Lehnsherr, trying to recruit new ones?"
Charles looks at Erik, We could use some friends, he says softly.
We could, Erik agrees. (They need all the help they can get, actually.)
Charles nods to Dumbledore, "We will try," he says calmly, sliding his hand into Erik's once again.
"Very well," Dumbledore says sadly, "Good luck."
And if there is to be another war, at least this time he will not have to face it on his own. At least this time, he will have Charles by his side.)
A/N: So…the ending was kind of depressing since Goblet of Fire ended kind of depressingly as well. And I know the ball scene was total filler, but I'm a sucker for dancing. And these chapters keep getting longer and longer…