Hellblazer: Hogwarts, Part 4b
Feb. 5th, 2004 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
camwynSlight note: this was taken largely from "Extraordinary Requirements" so it may look a little familiar.
The rims of Albus Dumbledore's spectacles glittered in the firelight. "You tell an impressive story, Mr. Constantine."
"Thank you."
"Most of what you have said, of course, lies beyond my power to directly confirm." Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, then went on. "Quite a few men in your position would take it upon themselves to ... shall we say, embroider upon the truth? A few enhancements here, a little elimination of the unnecessary there?"
John gazed levelly back at the Hogwarts headmaster, expression neutral. He'd given Dumbledore a true account of his situation- not the most detailed account, but a true one. If he had embroidered upon the truth at all, it was only with more truth- he didn't exactly resemble the local magical community. Had to explain a bit about why a so-called wizard wore everyday clothes and didn't carry a wand, didn't he? A little extra to get his point across, that's all it was. "Believe me," he said wryly, "there's no one knows that better."
"Of course." Dumbledore inclined his head fractionally. "Under ordinary circumstances it would be a trivial matter to sort out how much I could rely upon, how much could be discounted... but these are hardly ordinary circumstances, are they? You, here, claiming to be from another world entirely- you must understand, Mr. Constantine, that extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof."
That sounded more than a little suspicious. Hagrid had said most ritual magic didn't work here, but Hagrid had also said he'd been chucked out of school before the age of fourteen. "What sort of proof are we talking about here?" John asked warily.
Dumbledore's face crinkled in a smile. "Just a little examination, Mr. Constantine." One hand lifted his wand, gestured with it negligently. "Legilimens."
What came was not an attack, but a sort of knock at the edges of John's mind. He'd had his head invaded before more times than he cared to count; these days the barriers stayed up all the time unless he had a bloody good reason to drop them, and this wasn't good enough. "Sorry," he said, "you're going to have to try harder than that."
"But of course, Mr. Constantine." Damn it, he was still smiling.
This time it wasn't a knock. It came harder, a jolt like one might get on the Underground, and it was followed immediately by another that felt like a rugby player out for broken bones. John narrowed his eyes, watching Dumbledore as the blow came again. "Still no good, guv-"
The next attempt all but knocked him backwards physically; he knew that one more attempt like that would blow the barriers entirely. Well, John thought, if he wants proof, then it's proof he'll get. Silently, he crossed his fingers under the table.
The memories were in place, lined up neatly. All of them. Absolutely everything John could dredge up in the eyeblink between one moment and the next lay waiting. Dammit, if anyone was going to go rooting around in his head, they'd do it on his terms.
He placidly smiled at Dumbledore, who inclined his head.
The strike came.
John offered no resistance at all.
Some minutes later Dumbledore dropped his wand, and John felt a small surge of satisfaction. "Well," he said as the older man wiped his palms dry, "was that proof enough for you?"
"Yes... yes, I rather think it was." Dumbledore's voice didn't sound quite as steady as it had, and the smile was gone. "Did you really- that cult in-"
"Yes."
"You actually-"
"Yes."
"And the little girl- Astra, was it?"
John closed his eyes. He hadn't intended Dumbledore to find that one. "That. Will never. Happen. Again."
"I see." A pause. "Did you really-"
"As I said before, yes."
"Are you quite serious about not allowing such things to happen again, Mr. Constantine?"
John's eyes flew open. "Excuse me?" he demanded incredulously. "You just went through my entire sodding head! That's not enough for you?"
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Constantine." By this time Dumbledore had regained his composure. "I am not maligning your motives, or past performance- far from it. I am offering you a rhetorical question as an opening to an entirely different conversation."
"What d'you mean, 'different'?"
"I mean one in which you are offered a position that makes use of your- ah- extensive life experience." He adjusted his spectacles again and peered over them at John. "To my knowledge, no one has ever traveled from this world to- ah- any other version of Earth. Neither have we had any visitors from the other direction, before you. What is done once may be done again, of course, but recreating the circumstances. . . well. That may be more than a little difficult."
"Yeah, you don't exactly have Tim Hunter's doppelganger here, do you," John muttered.
"Not to my knowledge." Dumbledore smiled a little. "For now, I will do what I can to live up to Hagrid's promises and send you home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I can make no guarantees for the meantime- which leaves you in a very poor position, does it not?"
Oh, John knew this tune right enough. He'd sung it himself more than once. "All right," he said wearily, "what d'you need from me?"
"Very little, compared to some of your previous bargains," Dumbledore said. "Only a year's time. Possibly less, if your travels can somehow be arranged before then."
"A- wait. What?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry finds itself in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher- for, I fear, the fifth time in as many years. I understand you have some experience in teaching young wizards?"
John stared.
"I realise, of course, that you are unfamiliar with our specific forms of magic. Naturally, you will require some time to familiarise yourself first- but given your knowledge of magical theory and principles, that should hardly be a problem for you. Perhaps a month's time to work on some of the particulars first, and then a demonstration?"
Shaking himself like a dog with a coat full of water, John spoke. "You want me to-"
"Teach at Hogwarts, yes."
"For a year?"
"That is my price. You need a spell that has never been worked before; I need a teacher for a position that grows increasingly difficult to fill."
"But-"
"Compared to some of the things you have traded away. . ."
John bit back a curse; the old man was right. "There are people back home who need me," he said, unwilling to give up entirely. "Things loose in my world-"
"That is true," said Dumbledore. "But consider this: if you do not accept my price, how do you expect to get back at all? Your friends will have to manage without you for a time regardless, Mr. Constantine. I assure you, a way will be found to send you home. Until then, why not spend your time productively?"
Dammit.
There was a small clink as Dumbledore slid a pile of coins across the table. They gleamed gold in the firelight. "This should be enough for a wand from Ollivander's, in London," he said. "And an appropriate text or two. I shall have the school withhold the sum from your first salary period, of course. The rest will have to wait until you are officially hired."
"You're assuming I pass the demonstration," John muttered, staring at the coins. "What if I fail? I tried my own magic twice in London-"
"And it failed you, yes. But it is still there, I assure you. You could not have kept me out of your memories otherwise. A month's study and practice will be ample for our demonstration's purposes, I think." He sounded very confident of that; John looked up. The old man was watching him.
"Where do I stay in the meantime?" he asked at last.
Dumbledore smiled.
The rims of Albus Dumbledore's spectacles glittered in the firelight. "You tell an impressive story, Mr. Constantine."
"Thank you."
"Most of what you have said, of course, lies beyond my power to directly confirm." Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, then went on. "Quite a few men in your position would take it upon themselves to ... shall we say, embroider upon the truth? A few enhancements here, a little elimination of the unnecessary there?"
John gazed levelly back at the Hogwarts headmaster, expression neutral. He'd given Dumbledore a true account of his situation- not the most detailed account, but a true one. If he had embroidered upon the truth at all, it was only with more truth- he didn't exactly resemble the local magical community. Had to explain a bit about why a so-called wizard wore everyday clothes and didn't carry a wand, didn't he? A little extra to get his point across, that's all it was. "Believe me," he said wryly, "there's no one knows that better."
"Of course." Dumbledore inclined his head fractionally. "Under ordinary circumstances it would be a trivial matter to sort out how much I could rely upon, how much could be discounted... but these are hardly ordinary circumstances, are they? You, here, claiming to be from another world entirely- you must understand, Mr. Constantine, that extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof."
That sounded more than a little suspicious. Hagrid had said most ritual magic didn't work here, but Hagrid had also said he'd been chucked out of school before the age of fourteen. "What sort of proof are we talking about here?" John asked warily.
Dumbledore's face crinkled in a smile. "Just a little examination, Mr. Constantine." One hand lifted his wand, gestured with it negligently. "Legilimens."
What came was not an attack, but a sort of knock at the edges of John's mind. He'd had his head invaded before more times than he cared to count; these days the barriers stayed up all the time unless he had a bloody good reason to drop them, and this wasn't good enough. "Sorry," he said, "you're going to have to try harder than that."
"But of course, Mr. Constantine." Damn it, he was still smiling.
This time it wasn't a knock. It came harder, a jolt like one might get on the Underground, and it was followed immediately by another that felt like a rugby player out for broken bones. John narrowed his eyes, watching Dumbledore as the blow came again. "Still no good, guv-"
The next attempt all but knocked him backwards physically; he knew that one more attempt like that would blow the barriers entirely. Well, John thought, if he wants proof, then it's proof he'll get. Silently, he crossed his fingers under the table.
The memories were in place, lined up neatly. All of them. Absolutely everything John could dredge up in the eyeblink between one moment and the next lay waiting. Dammit, if anyone was going to go rooting around in his head, they'd do it on his terms.
He placidly smiled at Dumbledore, who inclined his head.
The strike came.
John offered no resistance at all.
Some minutes later Dumbledore dropped his wand, and John felt a small surge of satisfaction. "Well," he said as the older man wiped his palms dry, "was that proof enough for you?"
"Yes... yes, I rather think it was." Dumbledore's voice didn't sound quite as steady as it had, and the smile was gone. "Did you really- that cult in-"
"Yes."
"You actually-"
"Yes."
"And the little girl- Astra, was it?"
John closed his eyes. He hadn't intended Dumbledore to find that one. "That. Will never. Happen. Again."
"I see." A pause. "Did you really-"
"As I said before, yes."
"Are you quite serious about not allowing such things to happen again, Mr. Constantine?"
John's eyes flew open. "Excuse me?" he demanded incredulously. "You just went through my entire sodding head! That's not enough for you?"
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Constantine." By this time Dumbledore had regained his composure. "I am not maligning your motives, or past performance- far from it. I am offering you a rhetorical question as an opening to an entirely different conversation."
"What d'you mean, 'different'?"
"I mean one in which you are offered a position that makes use of your- ah- extensive life experience." He adjusted his spectacles again and peered over them at John. "To my knowledge, no one has ever traveled from this world to- ah- any other version of Earth. Neither have we had any visitors from the other direction, before you. What is done once may be done again, of course, but recreating the circumstances. . . well. That may be more than a little difficult."
"Yeah, you don't exactly have Tim Hunter's doppelganger here, do you," John muttered.
"Not to my knowledge." Dumbledore smiled a little. "For now, I will do what I can to live up to Hagrid's promises and send you home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I can make no guarantees for the meantime- which leaves you in a very poor position, does it not?"
Oh, John knew this tune right enough. He'd sung it himself more than once. "All right," he said wearily, "what d'you need from me?"
"Very little, compared to some of your previous bargains," Dumbledore said. "Only a year's time. Possibly less, if your travels can somehow be arranged before then."
"A- wait. What?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry finds itself in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher- for, I fear, the fifth time in as many years. I understand you have some experience in teaching young wizards?"
John stared.
"I realise, of course, that you are unfamiliar with our specific forms of magic. Naturally, you will require some time to familiarise yourself first- but given your knowledge of magical theory and principles, that should hardly be a problem for you. Perhaps a month's time to work on some of the particulars first, and then a demonstration?"
Shaking himself like a dog with a coat full of water, John spoke. "You want me to-"
"Teach at Hogwarts, yes."
"For a year?"
"That is my price. You need a spell that has never been worked before; I need a teacher for a position that grows increasingly difficult to fill."
"But-"
"Compared to some of the things you have traded away. . ."
John bit back a curse; the old man was right. "There are people back home who need me," he said, unwilling to give up entirely. "Things loose in my world-"
"That is true," said Dumbledore. "But consider this: if you do not accept my price, how do you expect to get back at all? Your friends will have to manage without you for a time regardless, Mr. Constantine. I assure you, a way will be found to send you home. Until then, why not spend your time productively?"
Dammit.
There was a small clink as Dumbledore slid a pile of coins across the table. They gleamed gold in the firelight. "This should be enough for a wand from Ollivander's, in London," he said. "And an appropriate text or two. I shall have the school withhold the sum from your first salary period, of course. The rest will have to wait until you are officially hired."
"You're assuming I pass the demonstration," John muttered, staring at the coins. "What if I fail? I tried my own magic twice in London-"
"And it failed you, yes. But it is still there, I assure you. You could not have kept me out of your memories otherwise. A month's study and practice will be ample for our demonstration's purposes, I think." He sounded very confident of that; John looked up. The old man was watching him.
"Where do I stay in the meantime?" he asked at last.
Dumbledore smiled.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
*bounces*
Date: 2004-02-05 12:44 pm (UTC)I wanna see John get a WAND!!
*makes puppy dog eyes*
Pwwwwease!
*beams*
Date: 2004-02-05 01:25 pm (UTC)Re: *beams*
Date: 2004-02-06 01:51 am (UTC)Dumbledore must have been impressed that John could block him so easily, since I believe Dumbledore is supposed to be one of the finest Legilimens in existence.
Re: *beams*
Date: 2004-02-06 04:47 am (UTC)Re: *beams*
Date: 2004-02-06 07:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-08 12:15 am (UTC)And it seems you subscribe to the Manipulative Bastard theory of Dumbledore rather than the Overrated Poltroon. I kind of like your depiction. I'm eager for a continuation.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-08 06:36 am (UTC)And, well, yeah... I dunno that I'd call Dumbledore a bastard, but manipulative? Sure. He's better at pulling strings than Obi-wan 'pathetically transparent lie' Kenobi. Far as I'm concerned, he appears to be a bit of a duffer because we only ever see him through Harry's eyes, and Harry has all the subtlety of a baby rhinoceros. He wouldn't recognise proper people-maneuvering skills if they tap-danced in front of him singing arias from La Traviata.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-08 02:00 pm (UTC)He's knowingly unleashing John Constantine on a school full of (relatively) innocent children. Nope, I'm going to have to stick with the bastard part.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-08 09:40 pm (UTC)