Harry Potter Returns
A Harry Potter/Superman Returns Crossover
Chapter Fifteen
My Kryptonian Cousin
Updated 18 February 2011
"My cousin?" Clark stared at Kara in surprise. "I never knew I had relatives on Krypton other than my father and mother!"
"I'd bet your father never said a thing about Zor-El in all the information he sent with you to Earth," Kara replied, matter-of-factly. "They weren't exactly close."
"How do you know —" Clark stopped, looking around, then pointed to a nearby mountain top a few miles away. "Let's get out of the air," he said. "I have some questions for you."
"I may have some for you as well, cousin," Kara replied, and the two of them flew to and landed near the summit of the mountain. It was calmer near the top, as the mountain was providing some protection from the winds that were blowing.
"Now —" Kara began, but Clark put up a hand, stopping her from continuing. He was scanning the skies above them. She looked up as well, curious as to what he was doing.
"Where we met earlier," Clark explained. "There are protective spells that kept surveillance satellites from recording images of the area we were in. But we're no longer in the 'safe zone' of the Academy. There are also spells that keep non-magical people from entering it. That's why you felt strange — the wards were affecting you."
"I wondered what was going on," Kara remarked. "I never felt anything like that before. But these surveillance satellites — they can't be as powerful as Kryptonian surveillance probes, can they?"
"It's best not to take any chances," Clark said. He inhaled slowly, drawing a large amount of air into his lungs, then began blowing it upwards into the sky. As Kara watched, intrigued, the sky began to cloud over. Within a minute, Clark had created a layer of clouds above them.
"There," he said, looking back at Kara. "Now we can talk without anyone observing us."
"Interesting," Kara said. "I would not have thought of using my breath to cool the air and create cloud cover." She pointed at the clouds above them. "But this wouldn't do any good if you were dealing with Kryptonian probes."
"Kryptonian probes?" Clark asked, curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it's how we've been observing you here on Earth," Kara replied. "Krypton collected a vast amount of information from other galaxies and planets across the universe, spanning something like —"
"Like the 28 known galaxies," Clark nodded. "I remember Jor-El speaking of them. But he said I would pass through several of them on my way to Earth, even though Krypton was not that far from here, only about 36 light-years."
Kara nodded. "Krypton was a pretty xenophobic society, from what my father told me. Jor-El deliberately kept the location of Krypton from you, probably so you wouldn't try to return. But they also wanted to keep track of what all the planets with sentient life on them were doing, so they sent out probes to observe them. The probes are microscopic and can permeate the atmosphere of a planet, like Earth, and send back transmissions to Krypton almost instantaneously. That's how we knew where you had landed on Earth, near the Kent farm, and how Jonathan and Martha Kent found you."
"How did you come to be on Earth?" Clark asked.
"Well, that's a long story," Kara demurred.
"I've got time," Clark smiled.
Kara shrugged, as if it were no big deal either way, and said, "I doubt your father mentioned this, either, but Krypton was undergoing a lot of changes just before it exploded, and my father told me that contributed to tensions that kept the ruling bodies from doing anything about planet's instability."
"You mean changes other than to the planet itself?" Clark asked, for clarification.
"Yeah," Kara nodded. "A lot of political interplay between the Council of Elders, the ruling body of Krypton, and the Science Council, which it relied upon for information-gathering and analysis. A member of the Science Council, Zod, had applied for election to the Council of Elders, but the Council voted him down. He created a separate faction, recruited a few others to his cause, and tried to usurp the Elders' power."
"I know some of that," Clark said, grimly. "He was stopped by my father, Jor-El, and swore vengeance against him."
"Right," Kara said. "Fortunately, they were sentenced to the Phantom Zone and never heard of again."
"Not quite," Clark told her. "They got free, somehow, and ended up here on Earth, several years ago. I had to fight all three of them — Zod, Ursa and Non — to protect the Earth."
"Really?" Kara breathed. "You beat three super-powered Kryptonians and won, all by yourself? That's pretty impressive!"
"Not so impressive," Clark disagreed. "I used a device Jor-El sent with me to Earth, that generated radiation that permanently removed their super-powers, when they thought they were using it against me. They are all locked up in separate maximum security prisons now."
"Still…" Kara didn't finish her thought, however, but walked restlessly around the ledge they were standing on. "Anyway, back to the story. Both our fathers knew well before its end that Krypton was doomed — they were both members of the Science Council and saw all the data. But while your father worked closely with the Council of Elders — Zor-El said he was trying to convince them of the seriousness of the situation — my father decided on a more indirect approach."
"Which was?" Clark prompted.
"He had the Science Council allocate resources for the construction of space arcology — a large station that would go into permanent orbit around Krypton, and be used to observe our sun and surrounding stars."
"But what about the probes you spoke of, earlier?" Clark asked. "Wouldn't they do a much better job, and be right where the measurements were being taken?"
"I thought that, too," Kara agreed. "But father said that certain measurements are better taken from a fixed location, and they also needed to know the distance and relative speeds of these other star systems. His request was granted, and Arco City was created.
"Is that how you escaped Krypton's destruction?" Clark asked. "On Arco City?"
"Yes," Kara said. "It was completed just days before Zod made his attempt to take over the Council. Father did not get all the resources he wanted for it allocated, though — he'd intended it to support up to a thousand families, but the Science Council only allocated enough to build an arcology that would support 250 families."
"I'm surprised Jor-El didn't use his influence to get more resources," Clark remarked.
But Kara shook her head. "I don't think either of them wanted to do that. Like I said, they weren't very close, your father and mine. But I know that neither of them had any intention of letting the other die when Krypton was destroyed. It just that your father didn't want it to look like he was showing any favoritism to his brother. That probably worked in their favor when the Elders tried to kill Jor-El."
Clark looked surprised once again. "Why did they try to kill him?"
"For wanting to leave Krypton," Kara answered. "I told you they were all a bunch of xenophobes. Father said they were afraid if any of us left Krypton, that other star-faring races might learn of our location and attempt to invade us. Not that we weren't perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves — Krypton had formidable weapons at its disposal. I know that some factions, like Zod, were looking forward to Jor-El leaving Krypton, since it would weaken the Councils and shore up his own movement. Zod wanted other races to attack us, so he could prove our superiority to everyone. Eventually he might have struck out from Krypton with his own offensive, taking over other planets and establishing a Kryptonian empire across the galaxy. That was why he self-declared himself a general. He imagined that one day he would be 'Emperor Zod,' ruling the galaxy from Krypton."
Clark was shaking his head. "By the time he reached Earth, Zod was consumed with hatred and a desire for revenge against Jor-El. When he learned that his son was here, he took over the United States government and demanded that I kneel before him."
"But you didn't, did you?" Kara looked at him curiously. "Your father never would have."
"It was a near thing," Clark admitted. "Zod was being helped by Lex Luthor, a criminal mastermind with a real estate fixation. He agreed to help Zod kill me in return for possession of Australia. In fact, I counted on him betraying me when I told him of my plan to use the nullification chamber on Zod. They forced me into the chamber, but I had already reprogrammed it to affect every Kryptonian outside the chamber instead of inside. So the effect removed Zod, Ursa and Non's powers permanently."
"They were all aberrant personality types," Kara said. "Zod craved power and dominance — he went round the twist when the Elders rejected him for the Council. Ursa was a misanthrope; she hated all men except for Zod, even her husband, Non."
"Non was her husband?" Clark was surprised once again. "I never knew that."
"Hardly anyone did, even on Krypton," Kara told him. "Non was a brilliant scientist, a member of the Science Council working on genetic research, when he somehow botched an experiment that made him twice as strong as a normal Kryptonian, but took away his higher reasoning ability and speech. The only higher function he was left with was, unfortunately, his loyalty to Zod. The rumor was that Zod and Ursa urged him to try the experiment on himself — Zod wanted someone with muscle to protect him, and Ursa — well, Ursa may have known of the dangers the experiment presented, but she must have thought that either way it went, she'd win."
"How does all this tie in with your escape from Krypton?" Clark asked.
"I'm getting to it, don't be so impatient!" Kara complained. "You're like my father, always making me get to the point…" Kara looked away, shaking her head.
"I'm sorry," Clark said. "Do you know what happened to your parents and the others on Arco City?"
"No," Kara said softly, after a moment. "We were lucky, though — the Elders sent a robotic Assassin after Jor-El, but too late to stop him from sending you into space, as Krypton exploded; Zor-El and about 100 families were on the Arco by then, and he was able to move it away from the planet in time to avoid the shockwaves from its destruction. As far as we know, only you and those on Arco City were the only survivors."
"And Zod, Ursa and Non, in the Phantom Zone," Clark added.
"Yes, but we didn't think about them — they were convicted criminals, and it was believed that the Phantom Zone was inescapable," Kara explained. "Do you know how they managed to get free?"
"No," Clark answered. "Zod never bothered to tell me, and I was too concerned with trying to stop them to wonder how they got free."
"Well, anyway," Kara continued, "we escaped the explosion of Krypton, but unlike your ship, the Arco didn't have a stardrive, so the best we could do was to put ourselves in orbit around Rao, Krypton's sun, and try to survive until we could figure out what to do next. There was another planet in orbit around our sun, but it was much farther away from Rao than Krypton was; it would be decades before it would approach close enough for us to attempt an orbital insertion.
"In the meantime, my father worked to keep us all alive, as well as coming up with some inventions of his own. He set up a monitoring system of Earth, so we would know whether you had made it there or not. We watched as you landed in Kansas and were discovered by the Kents, who brought you home and raised you as their son. For the next thirteen years I watched as you grew up, isolated from all your friends at school because of your powers, for fear they would discover them and take you away from your parents." Kara looked at her older cousin, almost shaking with emotion. "I felt so sorry for you, Kal! Having to live all those years on a primitive, backwards planet — I don't know how you could stand it."
"It was all I knew," Clark said, quietly. "And I had parents who loved me and took care of me. I have to confess — I was a lot more reckless with using my powers than I should have been. My dad forbid me to play football on the Smallville High team — he was afraid I'd forget myself and run over everyone in my zeal to score a touchdown." Clark laughed. "He was probably right, too — I loved to run. I used to chase trains coming through the county, I'd always try to beat them to a railroad crossing and run in front of them. I usually won, too."
"Usually?" Kara asked, smiling.
"Well," Clark admitted, after a moment. "One did clip me once, when I cut things a little too close. I got thrown about a hundred feet and landed in a wheat field. The engineer was sure he'd killed someone and made an emergency stop to check it out. Fortunately, I wasn't really hurt, so I got up and hightailed it out of there before anyone found me. They never did figure out what put the huge dent in the front of the train."
Kara was laughing. "Oh my Rao, that's so funny!" But she sobered quickly. "Well, it turned out there was a problem. The debris from Krypton's explosion eventually caught up with us, and we were left floating in an asteroid field of radioactive rocks."
"Kryptonite," Clark said, with a grim nod. "Did it affect you?"
"Not directly," Kara said. "In fact, at first Father thought we might be able to use the radioactivity of the rocks to power our energy generators, but the radiation interfered with the proper functioning of our equipment. We also discovered that the radiation was interacting with the material of the Arco itself, weakening the crystalline bonds, so that if we stayed within the asteroid field for too long the Arco would break apart. We had to use extra energy to escape the asteroid swarm."
"You were still in orbit around Krypton's sun, weren't you?" Clark recalled. "Couldn't you collect energy from the sun itself?"
"Not very efficiently," Kara answered. "We weren't big enough to intercept a lot of solar radiation, and much of that, little as it was, was used to keep the station habitable. Though Rao was a large star, its red radiation put out little actual energy — nowhere near the amount put out by the Earth's sun, for example."
"And that difference is what makes us super-powered," Clark noted. "Apparently my father anticipated that."
"Yes," Kara agreed. "Both our fathers were well-aware that Earth's yellow sun would provide an energizing effect to our Kryptonian physiology. In fact, there's a theory that Kryptonians themselves may have originated on Earth."
"Really?" Clark said, sounding intrigued. "I don't think Jor-El ever mentioned that in the training I did with him at my Fortress, years ago."
"Well, it's not a very popular theory on Krypton, obviously," Kara added, plaintively. "The Science Council's official explanation for the slight difference between Kryptonian DNA and the rest of the flora and fauna of Krypton is that two similar lines of life developed early in Krypton's history, something like two billion years ago, and developed in parallel in separate parts of the planet, only coming in contact about 5 million years ago. One line had developed diverse types of plant and animal life, while the second line evolved in a more narrow context, becoming humanlike only about 2 million years ago. Ironically, the alternate theory suggests that our ancestors were brought here, probably from Earth, about two million years ago by another, unknown space-faring race."
"I can see why the Science Council would not like that theory," Clark remarked, matter-of-factly.
"Ohhh, no — you're right," Kara agreed with a decisive shake of her head. "Those xenophobes hate the idea that we might not have originated on Krypton. But what else can really explain the differences in our DNA compared to every other lifeform on Krypton? The 'two lines of evolution' explanation doesn't seem realistic, especially since one line became quite diverse but the other developed in pretty much a straight line into human form. That's pretty unbelievable."
"So," Clark spoke slowly. "If the Earth-origin theory is true, we might be genetically compatible with humans, correct?"
"Probably," Kara shrugged. "Or, at least as compatible as two million years of divergent evolution would allow for. Why?" she grinned. "Are you dating an Earth woman? Say — Lana Lang?" she inquired, coquettishly.
Clark looked nonplussed. "How do you know about Lana?"
"Come on, Clark!" Kara laughed. "You were hanging out with her all the time when you were kids! Remember the Kryptonian probes? Mother, Father and I all watched you grow up for thirteen years."
"What happened after thirteen years?" Clark asked.
Kara suddenly shuddered, and took a deep breath. Her eyes were glistening as she looked at Clark. "The end," she whispered. "Everything fell apart." She turned away, covering her face in her hands, and Clark put his hands on her shoulders. She did not flinch away this time. "I'm sorry," she said, after a moment. "I just can't believe —"
"You don't have to say it," Clark told her. "I understand."
She turned around to face him. "No, I can do this," she said, firmly. She took another breath and began. "The Arco had been slowly deteriorating over those past thirteen years — the damage from the kryptonite asteroid swarm had been too severe for the automatic repair systems to fully recover. Father had hoped the Arco would hold out for another decade, until we were close enough to the other planet to make it into orbit, but it couldn't hold out.
"He'd been working on other projects as well, though. One was a way to use the Phantom Zone as a transport device — a way to send a person through space-time to a distant location. He said it would be used as a contingency, to send everyone to safety if we couldn't make planetfall before the Arco disintegrated.
"But what I didn't know," she went on, "was that most of the Arco's power had been depleted by everyone's efforts to keep it together. They kept that from me," Kara said, with a trace of bitterness in her voice. "Probably because they considered me 'too young to understand,' or some other such rot! Clark, I've got the equivalent of five Earth Ph.D's! I can speak five Earth languages fluently! I don't know why they thought I 'wouldn't understand!'"
"I think that's the way parents are," Clark said, mildly. "They think they're protecting you. My parents kept me from doing a lot of things I wanted to, because they were afraid I would give away my powers. They were probably right, too."
"Anyway," Kara went on, still sounding angry. "Zor-El told me he wanted to conduct a test with me. He put me in an emergency life pod, saying he was going to take some readings with me inside. At that point alarms began going off around the Arco — its destruction was imminent. I begged him to let me out, to let me help with the evacuation, but he didn't listen. He sent the ship through the Phantom Zone, programming it to exit the Zone near Earth, which it did. A tracking device of some kind in the probe took it down over Kansas, where I landed in the same field you crashed in, years before.
"The only thing that surprised me about the trip was the difference in our ages," she added. "I was born about a month before you, and spent about fifteen years on the Arco before my father sent me here. But you're something like twenty years older than me. It must have taken time for the life probe to pass through the Phantom Zone, even though no time passed for me."
"I'm thirty-seven, by the way," Clark said. "Measured in Earth-years, that is."
Kara nodded, but instead of commenting continued her story. "When I landed, the hatch opened and I stepped out. Your mother Martha was there, looking at the craft in amazement. She was even more surprised when I greeted her by name. I told her who I was and how I got there." Kara was silent for a moment. "I guess I was sort of in denial then, too, because I told her my parents would be joining me soon. But I don't — think they — made…" Kara stopped, unable to continue.
Clark nodded and hugged her, and she clung to him with a combination of anguish and relief. "Your mother was very kind to me," Kara sniffed, when she finally looked up at Clark again. "I was not in a good place, mentally, for a while after that. I was rather cold to her sometimes when I was first there, probably because I knew that you still had her, and I had no one."
"You have us both, now," Clark told her firmly. "Don't ever forget that, Kara. You will always be a part of our family now."
Kara managed a smile. "I'm — I'm very glad to hear that, Clark." She stepped back, wiping her eyes.
"Sometime in there you must have met Harry Potter," Clark surmised.
"What? Oh — yeah," Kara nodded. "I'd been at the farm perhaps a week when he showed up — just walked into the back door without even knocking! I was considering knocking him out when he began explaining himself."
Clark chuckled. "I'm glad you didn't," he said. "Harry's been very helpful to me over the past few months, especially considering our 'situation.'"
"What's that?" Kara asked. "Your mother told me you and he were friends, but I could not imagine how you'd come to know someone like him."
Clark smiled. "Why do you say that?"
"Well…" Kara shrugged. "I don't know — he just seems a bit… provincial, compared to someone like you. I mean, I've been reading up on you — Clark Kent, I mean — since I got to Earth and you're pretty well-known. You're in Who's Who, and I read some articles on you on the internet at the Smallville Library. He's just some kid who can do magic, right?"
"Martha told you that much, did she?" Clark asked, evenly.
"She said if I wanted to know any more I should ask you when I saw you," Kara replied. "So, I decided it was time to ask you. But I didn't know where to find you — I only knew that Harry went to school somewhere in Montana. So I decided to find him and ask him how to get in contact with you. It's pretty wild that you and ran into each other like we didn't even if we didn't know it at first! What were you even doing at that school, looking like you were ten years old?"
"I was twelve," Clark said, a bit curtly. "And it's a long story."
"Well," Kara smiled. "I've got time."
"Later," Clark promised. "But for now, we should get you back to Kansas. Mom is probably worried sick about you."
"I'm a big girl, Clark," Kara said, folding her arms across her chest. "Your mother knows I can take care of myself."
"But she worries," Clark reminded her. "She'll wonder what's happened to you."
Kara rolled her eyes. "For all she knows I'm down at Pop's Ice Cream Shoppe having some fries and a shake."
"Fries and a shake?" Clark repeated, smiling. "You've gone native pretty fast, little Linda." He gave her a curious look. "How'd you come up with that name, anyway?"
"I didn't," Kara said. "Your mom insisted I needed a more Earth-sounding name. She thought me calling myself 'Kara Zor-El' sounded too unusual."
"She's right," Clark agreed. "and the name 'Zor-El' might tip off certain people as to your relationship to Superman, those who know my father was named Jor-El."
"Oh." Kara looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess you're right. So I guess I'm Linda Lee when I'm out with normal Earth people."
"How'd you pick something like 'Lee' for your last name?" Clark asked.
"Well, it sounded good with 'Linda,'" Kara said. "I took our family name, 'El,' and reversed the letters to make 'Le.' But your mother said it would look more normal if I used two 'e's, so I became Linda Lee."
"Makes sense," Clark nodded. "So, are you ready to head back now?"
"On the condition that you stay with us a while," Kara admonished him. "Your mother really misses you, and I'd like to get to know you better."
"Well," Clark looked indecisive. "I still have studies to complete at the Academy…"
"Oh, come on!" Kara wheedled. "You can miss a few days! It's not like I'm asking you not to go back, ever!"
"Okay, okay," Clark gave in. "It's just that Harry's been gone a couple of days from the school now, too — nobody knows where he went."
"Well, he's bound to turn up eventually, isn't he?" Kara said. "He might even be at the farm right now — I've been flying around Montana for the past two days trying to find him, but I might have missed him."
"Two days?" Clark shook his head. "Mom will be worried sick! Okay, I'll stay a day or so, and we can get caught up on what's been happening here over the past twenty years, since you last saw me. Deal?"
"Deal!" Kara agreed, and the two of them leaped into the sky and sped toward Kansas.
=ooo=
Sunday evening descended on London, bringing with it a chilling mist and a sense of foreboding to the citizens of that great city, wizard and Muggle alike. The streets were almost empty just after dark— everyone felt a sense of depression and hopelessness that they did not understand, but only wished to avoid, and being inside where it was safe and warm seemed to help. The Muggles could not know, of course, but the weather was perfect for dementors who were preparing to breed, and the streets were filled with unseen monsters, moving boldly among humans, savoring their fear in anticipation of their breeding activities.
Wizards avoided the streets as well. Unlike Muggles, they could see dementors, and there were too many for a single wizard to consider confronting. Most wizards, like their Muggle counterparts, chose to remain indoors, combating their feelings of hopelessness and fear with the company of friends, or a warm fire and a hot drink.
Along Charing Cross Road, however, a dark-robed figure suddenly appeared soundlessly on the sidewalk between a dilapidated record store and an old book store. His black eyes scanned up and down the street slowly. He turned abruptly and entered the small, grubby-looking shop situated between the two stores, through a door only wizards could see.
The Leaky Cauldron was nearly empty despite the repressive conditions outside. Severus Snape noted only one witch, plainly dressed, sipping at a toddy of hot rum. Her eyes passed over him and she smiled momentarily, but went back to her drink, ignoring him thereafter. Snape made his way to the bar where Tom, the barman, was busy wiping out glasses and mugs. He seemed quite engrossed in the activity, until Snape made a throat-clearing noise.
Tom turned, looking surprised. "Well, bless my soul, Professor! I didn't see you there." Which was a lie, Snape knew. Tom could not have failed to notice him step up to the bar; he had been ignoring him for a reason.
Tom made the reason for his lie known by adding, "I don't think you've ever stopped at the bar before, Professor — you usually just go on through to Diagon Alley." He turned to face the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, placing both hands on the bar. "Is there somethin' I ken do for yeh?"
"You have some information for me, I believe?"
"I thought yeh might want to wet yer whistle first, Professor," Tom suggested.
"Did you?" Snape stared at the toothless bartender for several moments. He was about to refuse when he suddenly decided that Tom was probably trying to scrape a little more gold from the night, which from the looks of his current clientele had not gone very well so far. "Some mead, warmed," he said at last.
"Merlin's Best?" Tom asked, reaching for one of the bottles of the brown liquid, one of the most expensive drinks at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Your house brand, if you please," Snape answered, enunciating each word clearly, to be sure Tom understood him. There was no use buying the best mead — he had no intention of drinking anything put in front of him. He dropped a few Sickles on the bar, which Tom quickly exchanged for a mug of steaming mead.
Snape picked up the mug, inhaling the steam coming off the drink, waving the mead beneath his long nose as if savoring its aroma. He brought the mug up to his lips, but before he drank, his eyes flicked to Tom once again. "You have some information for me, I believe?" he repeated.
"Oh. Yeah," Tom said, now sounding a bit nervous. "It said in the Prophet that there'd be a reward for information about Dedalus Diggle."
"For information leading to the recovery of Diggle," Snape corrected.
"Yeah," Tom muttered. "Well, he was here yesterday."
Snape was silent for several moments. "Here. In your bar?"
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you use the spell the advert in the Prophet said to use if you saw him?" Snape snapped.
"It was too quick," Tom protested. "He was in and out, just like that!" he snapped his fingers.
Snape sighed, almost imperceptibly. "What did he say while he was here?"
"Not a lot," Tom replied. "He said, 'I hear some people are looking for me — be a good lad, Tom, an' give them this the next time you see one of 'em.' An' he hands me this." Tom reached beneath the bar and handed a card to Snape.
Snape stared at the card. It was a business card, with a name and address on it.
Luthor Enterprises, LC
L. Luthor, Acquisitions Expert
Beneath the name was an address in a run-down neighborhood of London. Snape stared at the card suspiciously, then took out his wand and tapped the card. It was not magical in any way. He looked at Tom. "Diggle gave you this?"
"That he did," Tom nodded emphatically. "I don't understand it, though — what's the idea of using a card to introduce someone, when you ken do it just as well in person?"
"It's a Muggle business practice," Snape said, automatically going into lecture mode. "They use these cards to keep track of people and places they may want to do business with at some point." But why would Diggle leave this for some Order member, unless he wanted one of them to visit the address on the card?
He nodded curtly to Tom. "This information has been helpful."
Tom grinned toothlessly. "Thank'ee! Does that mean I'll be seein' that reward, then?"
"We'll let you know if we find Diggle," Snape said, in a clipped tone, then turned and left the Cauldron.
Once outside, he Disapparated, reappearing a moment later in front of the building whose address was on the card he held. The building was an old apartment complex, shabby and run-down; Snape doubted anyone actually lived there. However, he approached the entrance cautiously and attempted to open the door, only to find it locked. That problem was solved a moment later as he took out his wand and flicked it, once. The door unlocked and opened of its own accord. Snape stepped inside, wand at his side but ready to use.
He was in a small, dirty foyer, with a row of slots for Muggle mail on one wall. Most of the slots had no names on them; the few that did were old and faded, except for one: It proclaimed "L. Luthor" for the slot marked 202, in bright, new lettering.
Snape considered his options. Could this be a trap for him? If a Muggle had actually gained control of a wizard, as it seemed Diggle was being controlled, that was an extraordinary thing, something Snape could not disregard. On the other hand, while Diggle was a capable wizard, he was no match for Snape in a fair fight. Without a wizard backing him up, a Muggle like Luthor (Snape strongly suspected this L. Luthor was indeed a Muggle — no wizard would use a business card to introduce himself!) would be no match for a wizard like Snape. However, Snape himself had taken steps to ensure that he was not taken prisoner somehow. Secreted within his robes was a small object, an empty potion phial, that had a Portkey enchantment laid upon it. Dumbledore had enchanted it for him, to return him to Hogwarts if he should so much as touch it with his bare hand. Snape had also added an enchantment to the phial — if it was subjected to a jolt or sudden stop, it would activate as well. Thus, if he were Stunned or otherwise incapacitated, somehow, and fell over, the fall itself would activate the Portkey even if he were unconscious.
Snape moved cautiously through the hallway to the nearest staircase, casting detection spells as he went. There were no Anti-Apparation Jinxes active in the area, nor wards designed to alert others to his presence. That was interesting, he thought, but perhaps Diggle was not as completely controlled by this Luthor he might have been; otherwise the Muggle might have taken advantage of Diggle's magical abilities to alert them to his presence.
Finally reaching the second floor, Snape moved carefully along the hallway until he reached an old, dirty door with the number 202 on its molding. A flick of his wand and the door slowly swung open. Snape stepped inside, cautiously, and peered about the room.
It was a typical front room for a small apartment, completely bare of furnishings and decorations of any kind. The room stank of age and neglect. Off to one side was a small kitchen area, equally bare. It did not appear that anyone other than Snape himself had entered this apartment for some time. Snape reached into his robes, removing the card Tom had given him and checked the address. Yes, he was at the correct location, and the mail slot had identified the tenant of 202 as L. Luthor. Snape grimaced. He was beginning to wonder if he was being played for a fool, an idea that galled him to no end.
"Ah, you're here," a voice suddenly spoke from an adjoining room, and Snape was instantly alert, his wand pointing toward the source of the voice. "Come in."
Approaching the door, Snape once again flicked his wand, opening it before him, and stepped to the doorway. This room, unlike the one he was standing in, was anything but bare.
He was looking into a lavishly furnished and carpeted office, with hardwood paneling on the walls covered with numerous landscapes and portraits of people Snape didn't recognize. Unlike real pictures, these portraits weren't moving, however; a Muggle giveaway if ever there was one. The room had a faint magical aura, Snape could tell — all of this had been Conjured or Transfigured. A large, polished wooden desk sat near the opposite end of the room. Behind it, a bald-headed man regarded Snape cheerfully. "I see you have the card Mr. Diggle left at the Leaky Cauldron," he said, nodding toward the card in Snape's hand.
"Who — are — you?" Snape asked, with a distinct pause between each word.
"I'm L. Luthor," Lex said, as if the card should have explained that. "But I don't believe I caught your name, Mr. —"
"My name is the least of your concerns," Snape said coldly, cutting him off. "And I don't know who you think you are, Luthor, but you're playing a very dangerous game."
"Oh, I know," Luthor replied, smiling blandly. He seemed wholly unconcerned that he was alone in a room with a wizard, with no visible or magical means of protection; at least, none that Snape could detect.
"You are not afraid?" Snape asked, his eyes boring into Luthor's.
Luthor cocked his head, tasting that idea for a moment. "Nope," he said, looking directly back at Snape. Snape, applying his Legilimency skills, was stunned to discover that he could not penetrate the man's mind at all. How could a Muggle have learned Occlumency so thoroughly, and seemingly so quickly?
"Since you won't tell me your name," Luthor went on, studying Snape carefully. "I suppose I should try to guess it." He was silent for several seconds. "I'd say you're Severus Snape, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. Correct?"
Snape said nothing. "How is your headmaster, Professor Dumbledore doing these days?" Luthor went on, smiling as one of Snape's eyebrows went up fractionally. "I see that surprises you. I know the names of all your Order members — Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Arthur and Molly Weasley — I could go on, but you get the idea."
Internally, Snape was seething. This — this Muggle was mocking him! Outwardly, however, he maintained his demeanor, vowing not to let the momentary lapse in his expressions earlier be repeated. "This proves nothing," he said calmly. "Names, nothing more." He held up the card. "You brought me here for some purpose beyond naming names, did you not?"
"I did indeed," Luthor nodded. "I have a question for you, Mr. Snape."
Snape almost smiled in spite of himself. "A question for me? Surely you might have asked Diggle anything you wanted to. I see no reason for you to lure me here except to try to take me prisoner, as you did Diggle."
But Luthor shook his head. "Oh, no, nothing like that, I assure you," he replied. "You're free to go anything — but I would like an answer to my question, first."
Snape shrugged. "You may ask. I make no promise to answer."
"Hmm," Luthor made a shrugging gesture of his own. "Well, I suppose that's the best I can hope for, then. Okay, here's the question: If I have some Polyjuice Potion, and the bit of someone I want to become has special abilities, will I gain those abilities as well?"
Snape was frozen. This was a fiendishly clever question, one potioneers had debated for centuries. The consensus was that abilities that depended on brain activity could not be acquired by the potion-taker, since the brain remained intact — only the outward body changed. But if an ability was physiology-based, it might transfer. However, the two main wizarding abilities that potion-makers had tested this on were Metamorphmagi and Parselmouths. Both of them appeared to be brain-based; certain wizards were born with these abilities, and there seemed to be no way to acquire them through any amount of training. Snape wondered what type of ability this Luthor had in mind to duplicate.
"No answer?" Luthor said, after several moments of silence. "Shall I take that as a 'yes?'"
"Take it any way you want," Snape answered, making a decision and raising his wand. "You won't be remembering any of it. Obliviate!" Snape's wand flashed, but instead of his expression going blank, Luthor simply smiled more broadly at the wizard.
"Stupefy!" Snape shouted, and a red bolt shot from his wand, passing through Luthor's chest and ricocheting off the wall behind him. Snape stared, in frank surprise, as Luthor looked down at his chest, then back at Snape, and grinned.
"An oldie but a goodie," he said, touching something to one side of him that Snape could not see. He suddenly flickered weirdly, like an object that was Vanished and Conjured in quick succession. "I doubt you've ever heard of the technology, Professor, but this is known as a hologram," he explained. "That means that I am not really here, which is why your spells could not affect me.
Luthor spread his hands. "Well, this interview is at an end. Thanks for coming by." His image began to fade, but reappeared a moment later. "Oh," he added. "You might tell your headmaster that I may want to have a conversation with him at some point." He grinned, then waved. "See you in the funny papers." The image faded.
Snape breathed in, then out, very slowly. Dumbledore would never believe this. Snape wasn't sure he believed it. But he knew what he'd seen, and soon Dumbledore would see it, too. He reached into his robe, touching the small phial that was his Portkey back to Hogwarts, and vanished in a swirl of color and whooshing wind.
=ooo=
"Fascinating," Albus Dumbledore said, stepping back from the Pensieve; he and Snape had just returned from viewing the memories of Snape's encounter with Luthor. "He seems quite conversant with our organization, and more than a little knowledgeable about magic in general."
"That would be Diggle's fault," Snape said, flatly. "The Muggle must have captured him before Diggle could utilize his wand."
"Undoubtedly," Dumbledore agreed, returning to his desk and seating himself behind it. "But we should not judge poor Dedalus too harshly," he said, steepling his fingers. "I suspect that he was not the one who gave away the presence of our wizarding community to this Luthor fellow."
Snape frowned. "What makes you say that? Who else could it —" he caught himself. "You don't mean…"
"I see your agile mind has leapt ahead to a conclusion, Severus," Dumbledore smiled, but raised a finger in warning. "However, it is not quite as simple as you might think. There are several things you are not aware of."
"Such as?" Snape sounded convinced that his conclusion would be the correct one.
"Such as," Dumbledore went on, "this Luthor — Lex Luthor being his full name — is an American criminal with a genius-level intellect, operating in and around the city of Metropolis for the past decade, until one of his schemes — a rather bold one, that involved destroying part of the western United States, was stopped by Superman."
"The American super-hero?" Snape recalled. "As I remember, he disappeared from Earth over five years ago, and hasn't been seen since."
"He has returned," Dumbledore stated.
"How are you aware of this?" Snape asked, an eyebrow rising.
"I've met him," the headmaster replied. "In his Fortress, in the Antarctic. When he returned, his ship entered the atmosphere over England, and crashlanded in Surrey."
"Surrey?" Snape caught the reference at once. "Where the Potter boy lives. No doubt he went chasing after the ship."
"And a fortunate thing he did, too," Dumbledore nodded. "Superman had been exposed to a piece of kryptonite, the substance that is deadly to him. He might have died had Harry not removed the kryptonite from his presence."
"Touching," Snape muttered. "So Superman and the Potter boy know one another now, is that what you're implying?"
Dumbledore smiled. "They know each other quite well, yes. In fact, there is more to the story than their simple acquaintance with one another." Briefly, he explained the accident that transferred some of their powers into one another, as Snape listened in growing disbelief.
"Does all this have anything to do with Potter transfer to that backwater school in America?" Snape asked, when Dumbledore had finished. "Did you send him away, to isolate him from the normal students of our school? If so, I applaud your decision."
"It was his decision, not mine, Severus," Dumbledore sighed. "I tried to convince him to stay. I even considered more persuasive means, but finally decided that Harry must be where he wants to be, or he will not value whatever education he receives."
Snape shrugged, indifferent. "Whatever the reason, he is out of Hogwarts, perhaps forever. Perhaps we can have some normalcy around here again."
Dumbledore smiled wanly, holding up his right hand, blackened and shriveled. "Have you forgotten about our other mutual friend? The one who gave me this?"
"You did that to yourself," Snape answered, his voice cold. He seemed to relent a little. "But yes, we still have the Dark Lord to contend with. And we have less than a year before that curse breaks through the wards I've placed on your hand and begins to consume you again."
"Yes," Dumbledore said, looking dispassionately at his hand. "Quite a nuisance, having a short deadline like that."
"How casually you treat your own death," Snape muttered, almost resentfully. "Suppose I no longer wish uphold my end of our bargain?"
Dumbledore looked him, his expression grim. "Severus, you promised me you would deal with the situation as we discussed, when the time comes. You cannot back out now."
"Perhaps I do not wish to commit murder."
"Only you can be the judge of whether your actions will be murder, or helping a friend avoid a very painful, prolonged death," Dumbledore countered. "Besides, it may become moot, if Harry returns with a counter for the curse, as he promised." He smiled at Snape's look of disgust.
"Faugh," Snape grunted. "That's certainly Potter's style, to promise things he has no way to deliver!"
"Oh, I don't know," Dumbledore said, lightly. "Harry does have a way of coming through in the end."
"Mostly through sheer, dumb luck," Snape sneered. "It's a wonder he hasn't been killed by now, one way or another, either by the Dark Lord, Death Eaters, dragons or that giant acromantula in the Forbidden Forest."
"I may find myself wishing for luck like that," Dumbledore pointed out, "when this Luthor fellow comes to call on me."
Snape, for once, nodded agreement. "You should be on your guard against that one — he is too intelligent for a Muggle. He was not interested in holding me, but I imagine you would make a much more valuable prize for him.
"I'm quite sure," Dumbledore assented. "Of course, 'catching' me and 'keeping' me are two very different things. I will be most interested to see what Mr. Luthor's next move will be."