will1@earthling.net The Goat, the Toad and the Court by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: Xavier and other Marvel characters are Marvel's. Dumbledore - both of them - and related characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I guess the goat would, also ... any other characters belong to either me or their creators/owners. No money is being made off of this. It's all fiction. Etc. WARNING: Language, imagery, disturbing ending. TIMELINE: AU; It's the same timeline as "Fields of Expertise" and its sequels ... NOTE: I'm playing with the date of when Xavier first fought the Shadow King; in this timeline, Jean and Storm are the same age, hence the need to adjust when Charles was in Egypt, and his ability to walk ... ------------------------------------ "My own brother, Aberfoth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery ..." - Albus Dumbledore, to Rubeus Hagrid, Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire ----------------------------------- PRELUDE: 7/22/2006: Harry's Hideaway, Salem Center, NY: 17:30 hrs: ----------------------------------- The suit was a nod to the necessity of keeping his true identity secret, but honestly, Albus Dumbledore wasn't put out by the strange fashions. Given the anniversary and the person he was going to have dinner with, he could skip the wizarding robes one night. "Professor Xavier? Yessir - he's in the back, in the Esquire Room. Please follow me," the kind young Muggle waitress said, leading Dumbledore past the entrance to the rather seedy bar, and he toyed with the idea of a pint ... But one didn't miss a 30th anniversary of an enduring friendship. The waitress led Albus down a faux-wood lined hallway, to a room with fixtures, panelling, and decor of a much higher quality than the bar. A bald man, apparently in his 40s, sat in a wheelchair at a table for two, and he returned Albus' growing smile warmly as the master wizard walked over and clasped the paraplegic's hands in his. "Charles. It's been far, far too long. I'm so sorry I've been away - things have been a madhouse in the ... well, you know," Albus said, sitting across from his fellow headmaster for a special school. "I can gather - that ... special subscription you send me had quite the lurid headlines. I hope that things turn out well," Charles Xavier said, carefully moderating his words when the waitress returned with two menus and a pitcher of water. Dumbledore thanked the waitress, then watched as she left ... ... before he produced a wand from the inside of his suit, waving it carefully, to close the door. "The extra security at the school is going to consist of *dementors.* I rather envy you your current situation - going public might be almost easier to endure than dealing with hellspawn around my students," Albus sighed. "Well, I have a few aces up my sleeve. If only I had had them when ..." Charles said, trailing off and looking away for a moment, as if he were choked up. "Charles. What happened was a horrible abuse of justice. You can't save everyone," Albus said, memories flitting across his vision as if his Pensieve was in front of him. Charles looked at his old friend, then shook his head and replied, "We did save Aberforth, at least. How is he?" Albus smiled at that, then said, "Still working on his temple, in Cornwall. He even has a coven going." "Really? There are some blessings, even from misfortune," Charles said. He watched as Albus used his wand to transfer water from the pitcher to his glass, then did the same for Xavier, and the men toasted each other. "To Thunderhoof," Albus said. "To Thunderhoof," Charles agreed, casting his memories back ... -------------------------------- 7/22/1976: Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Salem Center, NY: 09:00 hrs EDT: -------------------------------- "PROFESSOR!!!!!!" Charles rolled as fast as he could - Jean's scream was truly terrified, but it was coming from the south lawn, and the pavers hadn't put in the new stones yet - ~Jean, what is it!?~ Xavier sent - if she lost control, the devastation could be untold, but he was loath to tamper with her mind. Looking through her eyes, though, wasn't quite that morally troubling. What he - they - saw, however, *was* troubling: There was a naked man with a long white beard and some kind of wooden rod in his hand, dancing around Jean's science project, a goat she'd named Thunderhoof. As the man chanted in what sounded like butchered Latin, a green glow surrounded the goat, but the creature just kept eating, occasionally giving a "Baaa" in response to the odd affair. ~Professor, what's he doing to Thunderhoof!? I can't stop him with my telekinesis!~ Jean thought back, as Chares rolled up to the horrible scene and stopped beside Jean where she was kneeling, tears rolling down her face. ~Sleep,~ Charles ordered her, deleting the horrific memories from her mind as she slumped beneath a tree beside the path. Once he was sure Jean was safe, he turned his attention to the naked man who was dancing, seemingly oblivious to the mutants, around the goat, still chanting. "Baaaa?" Thunderhoof seemed to ask - - and then there were people in long, black robes, appearing with popping noises and holding - wands? - at the naked man, who stopped and dropped his wand in horror. "You can't stop me NOW! I'm not finished!" the man shrieked in a British accent, as two of the robed figures grabbed his arms. "You can explain it to the Wizengamot, Aberforth. Really - this kind of display is so primitive, and there are *Muggles* present - don't let that goat get away, Shacklebolt!" a rather officious man wearing a *bowler* with his robes told a black man with dreadlocks. The black man restrained the goat, while the bowler-wearing man looked at Charles with an apologetic expression and said, "Dreadfully sorry, sir - this man is an escaped mental patient -" "Who was, apparently, practicing magic on my student's goat. I wasn't born yesterday, sir," Charles said - - and he reeled when the bowler-wearing man pointed a *wand* at him and said, "Obliviate" - - but Charles' shields held, and he raised an eyebrow at the intruder, who gasped. "You're an Occlumentalist?" the British man asked, amazed. "I am Charles Xavier, telepathic mutant, if that's what you mean," Charles said - really, this was getting frustrating. "Ah. You must possess innate mental defenses. I apologize, sir, but I must ask you to come with us - we are the British ... Ministry of Magic, authorized to operate on American soil under the Rassendyll Compact of 1948. I am Underminister of Care of Magical Creatures Cornelius Fudge, and these are Aurors - magical law enforcement agents. This man is a self-proclaimed druid, and he alleges that ... well, your goat is *possessed,*" the man with the bowler said in an embarrassed tone as the naked man vanished with the two Aurors restraining him. "I've seen that goat ever since Jean bought it when it was a kid, and I can vouch that it is *not* possessed - at least, not to my perceptions," Charles insisted. "As we thought. Tragically, Aberforth Dumbledore - the 'priest' - tends to ignore our most important rule: We don't perform magic in front of non-magical people. He will appear before our highest magical court for this egregious violation of our regulations Would you and your student come with us back to Britain to testify?" Fudge almost pleaded - Charles could tell the man was just embarrassed to no end. Oh, well. In for a dime, in for a dollar - and the idea of a hidden, self-regulating society of wizards was fascinating. "I've erased my student's memory of these disturbing events - I assume you make a habit of doing the same to protect your culture?" Charles asked, watching as a male wizard with wild red hair carefully picked Jean up and walked over with her. "Just so. I appreciate your understanding - we can leave the girl here, I assume you have help?" Fudge asked, and Charles nodded, looking at the red-haired man who was holding Jean and walking behind Fudge and Charles back to the house. "My rsearch partner, Moira MacTaggart, can watch over Jean," Charles said, waving Moira over as she came out of the mansion with a scowl. "What happened t'the lass - wait, I dinnae want t'know. I'm assumin' ye had t' do somethin' t' her mind, Charles?" Moira asked, taking Jean from the red-haired Auror with a nod of thanks. "She saw a naked druid dancing and trying to exorcise her goat, Moira. I think I'm justified in sparing Jean *those* memories," Charles sighed, blurring her perceptions of the wizards as she carried Jean back to the house - she'd just remember two Interpol agents. Charles sighed at his deception, then turned to Fudge and the red-haired wizard as he said, "Thank you, Mr. -?" "Weasley, Professor - Arthur Weasley, newly with the Ministry. I'm fascinated by Muggles - what we call non-magical humans - but I've never met humans with powers," the young man said, beaming. "Perhaps we can share analyses after this unfortunate affair is over," Charles offered - he could sense Weasley's decency. And there was something about Aberforth Dumbledore that didn't quite seem as malicious as Fudge made him out to be. ------------------------------- Charles and the wizards appeared in a rather dreary jail, where Aberforth - now clad in a dressing robe, and looking miserable - was walked into a holding cell by two of the Aurors, and Weasley left to process paperwork. "He's to be tried for practicing inappropriate charms. And even if we didn't maintain secrecy about our skills, dancing naked on a private school's lawn is just NOT something we can overlook," Fudge said, still sounding utterly aghast. "Really, Cornelius. I seem to remember a certain prefect who had one too many butterbeers one Halloween and almost got suspended." "Albus!" Aberforth cheered, his spirits picking up tremendously when he looked at someone behind Fudge and Charles. Charles turned around, and looked at the man Aberforth had seen. It was another elderly gentleman, with a beard somehow *longer* than Aberforth's, with spectacles, magnificent blue robes and a hat with gold stars on it - rather more the traditional image of a wizard than the drab, uniform-like robes Fudge and the Aurors had worn. "Albus," Fudge said, sounding positively annoyed. "Professor Charles Xavier, the headmaster of the school we tracked Aberforth to. Professor, this is Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Britain's most famous - among wizardkind - school for young magic-users. He is Aberforth's older brother." "Professor. I sincerely apologize for this tragic incident - Aberforth hearkens back to my family's druidic roots a bit too much. I gather you have mental defenses able to defeat the Obliviate spell?" Albus asked, and Charles nodded. "I am a telepathic mutant, and run a school for children with mutant powers. They need a place where they can learn to use their powers safely and responsibly," Charles explained - there was something about the older Dumbledore that radiated trustworthiness. "We feel the same about young people with magical abilities. I was told your student witnessed Aberforth's ritual, and I sincerely apologize - he's something of an exhibitionist. A loincloth would have been appropriate for the ritual," Albus sighed, walking toward Aberforth's cell. "Albus, you're missing the POINT - Aberforth left British soil to exorcise a goat thousands of miles away, in a highly-populated American town! You know what the Wizengamot must do!" Fudge insisted - - but he flinched under the polite, if piercing, stare Albus gave him. "Breaking Aberforth's wand would break his heart, Cornelius. He has never harmed anyone, and there *was* that Cornish pixie infestation he drove out of your office last year," Albus said in a soft voice which brooked no argument. Fudge blushed deeply, then said, "The Wizengamot will convene in two hours. If you know a good barrister, I suggest you have them Apparate here as soon as you can - I believe we have a solid case against Aberforth this time, favors owed or not." He stomped off in a huff, and Charles met Albus' bemused expression as the elder Dumbledore said, "Cornelius is a good man, but driven by love of his office, and craving for power. I fear the ends tend to justify the means." "I know someone like that as well," Charles agreed, following Albus at the wizard's polite gesture toward Aberforth's cell. Aberforth was once more moping in a corner, wrapped in the dressing gown, and sighed when Albus sat beside him. "Aber, what *am* I going to do with you?" Albus pleaded. "I followed a dream, Albus. You know better than to ignore dreams - that mad Riddle boy haunted yours, and I didn't laugh at *you,* now *did* I?" Aberforth snorted. "Tom Riddle *is* a true threat, Aberforth. As for your goat, I suppose it's possible, but you know demons aren't as common these days in Britain - thank heaven for that," Albus pondered. "Then have this telepathic gentleman scan it! He'll find that demon, and Gaia help you if I'm not free to exorcise it!" Aberforth ranted, spittle in his beard as Albus stood, shaking his head. He left the cell, followed by Charles, who shook his head as the Aurors locked it behind him. The entire affair seemed as if Aberforth was being railroaded, and despite his display in front of Jean, Charles felt pity for the poor man - "Headmaster. If you wish, I could examine the goat ... I doubt I'll find anything, but maybe magic-users can perceive things a telepath can't detect," Charles asked, and Albus smiled at him. "I would be grateful, Professor. And please, call me Albus," the wizard said, offering Xavier his hand. "Then, please call me Charles," Charles said, shaking Albus' hand and following him to the evidence room. ----------------------------------- "Hem hem ... this is *most* irregular, Headmaster. I can't say it's permitted." "You are free to watch the entire affair, Dolores. Certainly, the court is going to want all the evidence, now won't it?" Albus told the toad-like young woman who was in charge of the evidence lockup. She looked at Charles over her glasses, then at the rotisserie in the blazing fireplace of the small antechamber outside the evidence cells, and finally shrugged. "I suppose," the woman - whose nametag read "Dolores Umbridge, Undersecretary of Evidence Maintenance, Fifth Grade" - said, unlocking the doorto the cell where Thunderhoof had been placed. It was surprisingly large, with straw, grass and a bowl of water, and Thunderhoof got to his feet with an annoyed "Baaa." Charles rolled over to the edge of the straw, then reached out telepathically - - ~Hello, Charles! What a PLEASANT surprise! And I finally get both my revenge and an escape from this damnable goat!~ ~FAROUK!?~ Charles mind-cried - he'd thought he'd defeated the telepathic monster in Egypt months ago, and if the Shadow King got ahold of a *wizard* - ~They're such *ignorant*, yet powerful, beings - full of themselves for the most part,~ Farouk drawled, battering at Charles' mental shields, his daemonic astral form rising from Thunderhoof - ~OCCLUMENTAE!~ Farouk screamed, fleeing from the goat into the astral plane, and Charles looked over his shoulder at where Albus' astral form was floating behind him. The wizard placed a reassuring hand on Charles' shoulder and helped the telepath return to his body - - while Umbridge, and now Fudge, were watching them with expressions of annoyance (from Umbridge) and terror (from Fudge). "The goat *was* possessed, Cornelius. Were it not for Professor Xavier's courage, the 'Shadow King' might have had access to some of the strongest wizards in Britain," Albus said, his voice brooking no argument. "B-But - the charge of practicing inappropriate charms -" Fudge said, sounding almost disappointed to Charles' ears. "Oh, please bring it before the whole court. I'll be glad to testify - for the defense," Charles said, giving Albus a grateful nod. Helping to save Aberforth from losinghis wand was the least he could do. -------------------------------------- "... next on the docket, People V. Aberforth Dumbledore ..." Charles had waited with Albus and Aberforth in the holding cell for the hour and a half before the arraignment. He watched as Aberforth was being led in as the prosecutor read off the list of charges, making them sound rather lurid: "... the accused is charged with one count of illegal use of a Portkey, one count of practicing inappropriate charms on an animal of husbandry, one count of public indecency, one count of willfully practicing magic before Muggles ..." "Please introduce your evidence," the chief judge - a surprisingly youngish woman, whom Albus had called "Amelia Bones" - said, looking at Aberforth with a mixture of pity and annoyance. "Yes, Your Honor. We will bring forth the goat in question," Fudge said, looking around - - but finding only Umbridge, licking her fingers as she set down a plate of some cooked animal, covered in barbecue sauce, at the prosecutorial table. "Undersecretary Umbridge, you're late," Judge Bones huffed. Umbridge shrugged, replying, "Hem hem - my apologies, Your Honor. "Goat takes rather long to cook." "She ... *ATE* ... Thunderhoof?" Charles whispered, horrified, to Albus, who was trying to console the now-sobbing Aberforth. "Ahem .. charges ... dismissed for lack of evidence," Bones said, sounding revolted. Charles rolled after them, after giving Umbridge one last, disgusted look, and she was led away by a cursing, purple-faced Fudge. #And I thought Farouk was the monster,# Charles thought, rolling out after the Dumbledores. ------------------------------------- 2006: ------------------------------------- "What I never understood was why Umbridge ate Thunderhoof? She ruined Fudge's case against Aberforth," Charles asked over his shallots. "She was a strange young woman, and I fear if she ever gains any real power. She is of Slytherin House, but has too much of a sadistic streak to rise far in the Ministry - or, so I hope," Albus said, shaking his head. "I hope never to meet her again," Charles said. He looked at Albus, who smiled faintly, and added, "I have a favor to ask of you. "One of my former students also is a sorceress, and she's regained possession of a dangerous soulsteel weapon. I was hoping you could find a way to help her at Hogwarts ..." ---------------------------------- ... a beginning.