Oh, Wind a Blowing

by Flutesong

[Story Headers]

Oh, Wind A-blowing

Author: Flutesong

Email: Flutesong@hegalplace.com

Website: http://www.hegalplace.com/flutesong/

Keywords: Gen Fic

Spoilers: Season five or six, doesn't matter really

Rating: G

Summary: Total AU - Xover with Harry Potter. Mulder finds the world of magic.

Warning: None - but if you do not know anything about Harry Potter, you will be lost. But then, Mulder is lost, so it is okay.

Oh. Wind A-blowing

The lakeside nearest to the Forbidden Forest was alive with the celebration of Halloween, one of the most special times in the Wizarding world. It had been an especially warm and dry fall for Scotland and the students and faculty were comfortable enough in their regular robes and had left their heavier top coats inside the castle for a colder day yet to come.

The children were gathering mighty bunches of leaves and branches to make a huge fire so that their celebration could go on through the evening. Usually there was just a Halloween feast, and while that was a special occasion in its own right, the addition of the once a decade `Honor to the Wind' festival had made everyone giddy with excitement and joy. War with Voldemort was approaching and everyone was making sure that whatever moments of happiness that could be found were celebrated as if there was no tomorrow, which, if Voldemort won, might very well be true.

When the pile of firewood got too high for even the tallest student to reach, Professor Flitwick happily continued to add branches to the top with magic. Surprisingly, Dumbledore began to sing and the rest of the professors joined him in song.

Harry and his friends were amazed to see Professor Snape join in lustily and when Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy's equally amazed expression, he began to laugh. Moreover, the most surprising thing of all was that Malfoy saw this and they laughed together.


Fox Mulder heard music. He was lost in a dense and forbidding wood that had appeared around him as he napped away the warm, lovely fall afternoon. He'd followed his lead past Stonehenge into this remote Scottish countryside and suddenly lost him as the man had stepped, as though through an invisible barrier, and disappeared. Loath to return to the rather bare hostel he'd quickly rented and left his luggage at, he'd given in to temptation and made himself comfortable in a warm grassy hollow.

Upon waking, however, instead of the gentle, rolling, sun dappled hillside, he was surrounded by a massive density of tall trees that blocked the sun and chilled him through his lightweight jacket.

He'd been blundering about for over an hour, when he heard the singing and decided to follow the sound.

What he saw, beyond the edge of the wood, astounded him. He saw a strange collection of unlikely adults and youngsters building an enormous pile of firewood without hoists or ladders. The branches seemed to rise, unaided, from the arms of the children to the top of the pile, directed, as though like magic, by a baton wielded by a small strange man whose face resembled a pig more than a man. Everyone was dressed in long, and amongst the elders, extremely brightly decorated robes. The oldest man had a pure white beard and hair that cascaded down past his waist. Soon they were all singing and the strange words of their song seemed to be made of words that called for the wind, and the wind answered.

Mulder shook his head and tried his cell phone. The phone had no signal and no matter how much he shook his head, stamped his feet or pinched himself, the scene in front of him only grew weirder. Whatever kind of indigenous rite or festival he'd stumbled across was nothing he'd ever heard of or seen before.

The old man flicked his baton and uttered, to Mulder's disbelieving ears, what sounded like Latin. "Incinderi!" The huge pile of wood became a bonfire, the voices joined in harmony and sang, "Oh thou Ukko and thou Akka * weavers all of winds and weather * Pray I do to mighty masters * raise a wind and make it whirling * Raise a wind and make it whirling * make a gale thats great and growing!" The people joined hands and danced `round the fire and small creatures, so much like fairy tale elves that Mulder had to rub his eyes and stare again, began setting up massive tables, chairs and platters of food. All of it summoned, from thin air with a snap of their fingers.

The smaller children ran, danced, and screeched, daring each other to step upon the old man's robes. The entire scene was so impossible, even amongst all impossible and improbable things that he had ever seen that Mulder started to laugh.

Immediately the scene in front of him silenced and even the fire ceased to crackle and pop. Everyone stood as still as statues. Mulder found himself walking up to the old man, although he'd never taken a step of his own accord, but traveled as if in a dream.

He came to a gentle stop in front of the old man.


The bearded old man stared into Mulder's eyes and whispered "apertum cogito". Mulder felt a warm wind flow through his brain, turning his history into a golden thread. He felt no pain or worry even though some part of him understood his thoughts were being read. The old man's expression barely changed, but Mulder thought he saw joy, sorrow, and humor chase themselves amongst the wrinkles.

Finally the old man smiled, "Welcome to the Honor the Wind Festival and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr. Mulder. I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster."

Mulder found it impossible not to smile in return, he offered his hand to this strange old man, and acknowledged the introduction.

Grasping Mulder's hand, Dumbledore raised their joined hands and introduced Mulder to the silent crowd, "This is Mr. Mulder, and he is a Believer. Let us make him welcome!" Many in the crowd smiled, some frowned and seemed to dismiss him immediately, but the voices took up their song and they began to dance around the fire once more.

Mulder stood and swayed to the music and watched the fire burn. He was overjoyed as the truth of a magical world was revealed to him in fact instead of in dreams. He noticed a slender young man had joined him on the periphery of the circle around the fire. He smiled at the boy and was shocked to see the boy's face, but for a scar on his forehead, was that of a very young Alex Krycek, with wind-tossed dark hair and sparkling green eyes. He nodded to the boy and the boy smiled in return, stepped closer and offered his hand. After a moment of de-ja-vu, Mulder shook the boy's hand. "Hello Mr. Mulder, I am Harry Potter," said the boy in a husky young voice.

"Hello," said Mulder in an uncertain voice.

The boy smiled more broadly, "Don't worry, Mr. Mulder. A few years ago, this was all as strange to me as it is to you. I lived in your word then, before I found out I was a wizard."

"My world? Mulder queried, "Am I no longer on earth?"

The boy laughed and then frowned as another boy came close enough to overhear. "What do you want, Malfoy?" The boy asked the other in a hard voice.

"Just want to take a look at the Muggle freak," the boy named Malfoy answered, with a hard, sneering look at both Mulder and Harry Potter.

"You're the freak, Malfoy." Harry Potter answered dismissively and returned his gaze to Mulder.

"Muggle?" Mulder asked.

"That's our word for non-magical people." Harry Potter answered.

"Ah," said Mulder and looked closely at the blond boy and thought that while Harry Potter might have Krycek's coloring, this boy had Krycek's attitude and manner. He smiled sarcastically and turned around in a circle, his arms raised. When he was facing the blond again, he said, "Seen enough?" Mulder asked in a hard cold voice.

The blond frowned more deeply, sneered and turned his back, although he did not leave, dismissing both Mulder and Harry Potter.

"Don't mind him," Harry Potter said loudly enough for the boy to overhear. "Malfoy is a total git and not worth considering."

Mulder saw the blond boy stiffen and Mulder smiled at Harry Potter. This kind of rivalry he understood and immediately shared Harry's assessment. In harmony, Mulder and Harry went to the long tables and found seats in front of a row of golden platters piled high with delicious looking food.


Still singing, the rest of the company found seats at the heavily laden tables. When the song ended, the headmaster began to speak in a soft voice that Mulder knew everyone heard as if they were a foot from the headmaster's side. "Oh thou Ukko and thou Akka weavers all of winds and weather * Blow thou wind through more than six years rage through summers more than seven * Rapids rise to rush in torrents aged waters to run swiftly * And thou self rush like the rapids and prevail without a hindrance" He smiled genially at the seated students and teachers, offered both hands to the air above his head. Mulder saw the fire dance crazily, the trees bend and leaves rush around in small cyclones. The students clapped and cheered.

"Let us begin the feast!" The old man said joyfully and everyone began to eat.

Once Mulder had satisfied his hunger, he began to look at the faces around him with more attention. Other than a few odd looking adults, everyone seemed entirely normal. A bushy haired teenage girl was pontificating about the Wind festival, its history and significance. Only a few, including Harry Potter, were paying her attention.

Harry turned to Mulder, "She's Hermione and she is very smart. She always researches everything."

Mulder laughed and replied, "I know someone just like that."

"Is she a friend?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes." Mulder answered, "My best friend in the entire world."

"Good." Harry said and sighed.

The evening continued with food and drink, song and poetry. Mulder met several of the professors, and when he tried his cell phone again, was besieged with questions that he hardly knew how to answer to people unfamiliar with electronics and technology. He noticed the blond boy paying close attention although his sneer was firmly in place.

"What's with the Malfoy kid?" Mulder asked Harry under the cover of a new and loudly sung song.

Harry grimaced. "He's a pain in the arse, always going on about his pure blood wizard family. He has a hateful father who is in league with the Dark Lord."

"Dark Lord?" Mulder asked, although the drama of the name was funny.

Harry sighed again, took a deep breath and said, "There is a battle here in our world between those, like the Malfoys and the rest, like Dumbledore and me. They believe that the world needs to be purged of Muggles and especially Muggle-born wizards. They want only so called `pure bloods' to control everything. Malfoy apes his father's cruelty and racist feelings. He tries to hurt my friends and me as much as he can. The Dark Lord is very powerful and evil and has many followers. Dumbledore is even more powerful though, and so the Dark Lord will not win."

Mulder looked towards Dumbledore and was curiously unsurprised to see the old man's bright blue eyes twinkling at him knowingly. Just as he was about to question Harry further, a lump of sticky pudding landed on his shoulder and another hit the back of his head. Within moments a full out food fight was in progress. Mulder ducked.

Dumbledore yelled, "Immobilis!" Immediately, everything stopped. The food suspended in midair, the children with their mouths open and the professors with frowns on their faces. Mulder realized that he, too, could not move. "That is quite enough," Dumbledore said and, with a flick of his wand, all the food disappeared and the tables were laid bare, the food in flight was also gone."

After a moment, everyone could move again, some of the children sent him ashamed glances, but overall, the festive mood was soon restored and the singing began anew.

Late, after midnight, Mulder was invited to follow the company back to the school. It was a vast castle that looked like the most grandiose Mulder could have ever imagined in his childhood. The wind grew louder and more tempestuous behind then as they reached the entrance. Each child and adult thanked the wind before entering the open doors. Mulder could swear he heard the wind answer.


Inside the castle, Mulder decided that Alice's adventures through the looking glass had nothing on him. The pictures moved and spoke, the statues bowed and greeted them and a large number of ghosts congregated above them. The entire hall was lit by a million candles suspended in mid air and the ceiling showed the clouds being quickly blown across the sky.

The group sang one more song and large mugs of hot chocolate suddenly appeared in their hands. The children were dismissed for the night and reminded that tomorrow was another day of classes. Harry bade Mulder goodnight, and Malfoy glared at him a final time. Mulder was invited to accompany Dumbledore to his office.

Once seated with a large tray of coffee and pastries in between him, Dumbledore spoke, "So, Mr. Mulder, what do you think of us?"

"Is that a phoenix?" Mulder asked and the red and gold plumed bird raised his head and trilled a greeting.

Dumbledore smiled, "He likes you, Mr. Mulder, and his name is Fawkes. Coffee? Tea? Help yourself. The cakes are excellent," Dumbledore said and took a large one covered in silver frosting."

Mulder sipped his coffee, "How does all this exist?" He asked. "How come we do not know of you and this world?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore quietly, "Your kind does not believe in magic, Mr. Mulder. But, that was not always true. We have always been here, since the dawn of man. At first, we were seen and Muggles thought of us as gods and shamans. As time progressed, we were reviled and became objects of suspicion and scorn, blamed for all of Muggle-kind's ills. We were hunted and oppressed. So, we decided to create an alternative life in which the world no longer saw us and we were left in peace."

"I see you," Mulder replied.

Dumbledore twinkled at him, "So you do," he replied.

"Do you see us?" Mulder asked seriously. "Do you see us at war and with deprivation, starvation, violence and pain? Do you see that we are destroying the environment and overpopulating the planet?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered, just as seriously. "We do see it. We have tried, from time to time, to interfere and alter the course of your history, but every attempt has only wrought more destruction and death to both our kinds."

Mulder stared into the fire. Fawkes chirruped softly. Dumbledore dipped a biscuit into his tea.

"There is a great threat," Mulder said. "There are alien beings who threaten the planet now and who are in league with a conspiracy of evil men. I am trying to expose these men and the threat, but I do not make much progress."

Dumbledore stared at Mulder, the twinkle no longer present in his gaze. "I know of your struggle, Mr. Mulder. You fight an uphill battle against all the fears and prejudices of your kind." The sharp blue eyes met Mulder's wide hazel ones. "They do not see us either. Nevertheless, we do see them. They are not inherently evil, Mr. Mulder. They seek to expand and grow. Their planets have grown inhospitable. They lack the human consciousness of emotions and only see what they consider lesser beings in their way."

Mulder sighed.

"We cannot help you, Mr. Mulder. The evils of Muggle-men no longer concern us. We have problems of own and a battle against our own evils to fight."

"Yes," replied Mulder, "The boy, Harry Potter, mentioned it."

Dumbledore smiled and relaxed in his seat, "You have a great deal in common with our Harry," the old man said. "May I offer you lodging for the night? It grows late and I grow weary."

"I would love to stay here," Mulder, answered.

"Good, we shall find you comfortable quarters." The old man rose and Mulder followed him down the odd moving staircase and down long stone corridors. "Do not worry, Mr. Mulder, you will be escorted to breakfast and not spend the day lost in the castle."

"I think I would enjoy being lost here for a while," Mulder replied.

"So you would, Mr. Mulder. So you would." So saying, Dumbledore opened the door to reveal a large bedchamber, with a merry fire in the hearth and a large four-poster bed in the center of the room.

"The bathroom is through that door," Dumbledore pointed to the corner of the room, "Just say `nox' when you are ready and the room will darken. Sleep well Mr. Mulder, I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight," Mulder replied and saw the old man out. He tried the door, but it was locked. He was unsurprised and undressed and went to bed. "Nox," Mulder uttered and the room dimmed. As he sank into the soft warm bed, Mulder thought about his strange day and his heart jumped at what he had learned. And he was happy and went to sleep.

The End

Tuuli (Wind) from Tra:

Oh thou Ukko and thou Akka
weavers all of winds and weather

Pray I do to mighty masters
raise a wind and make it whirling

Raise a wind and make it whirling
make a gale thats great and growing

Tear up tar stumps off the roadside
pull the pine trees off the lake shore

Break the tops of giant oak trees
crash their robust roots to splinter

Rise thou wind to blow and bellow
gust and gale to whirl all over

Rise thou wind to blow and bellow
rage and rave, thou angry weather,

Blow thou wind through more than six years rage through summers more than seven

Rapids rise to rush in torrents
aged waters to run swiftly

And thou self rush like the rapids
and prevail without a hindrance

Swedish-Finnish
group, Hedningarna:


 

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Title:  Oh, Wind a Blowing
Author:  Flutesong   [email/website]
Details:  Standalone  |  G  |  17k  |  11/19/12
Pairings:  Mulder/Other  |  Harry Potter and Mulder talk
Category:  Humor, Story, Unclassified  |  Harry Potter
Summary:  Mulder is lost in Scotland


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