viggo didn't like scotland. he had thought he would like it: the misty moors, the rolling hills, the moss-covered castles. he'd been wrong.

scotland was damp and somber and viggo's space in it was filled to the brim with two hobbits who wouldn't stop shagging long enough to give him directions to the nearest pub. viggo didn't like it, so he set out on his own to see if anything could be made of the remainder of his stay.

he struck out west from glasgow, driving part of the way, and then abandoning the car in favor of hiking through a misty valley. he reached the crest of one hill, then another, and as he moved further away from the car and civilization and dom and billy shagging, he started to feel better. there was something in the air here, something different, something ... magical? viggo didn't like the way the word felt cliched. he searched for something better, but, before something more suitable came to mind, he found himself standing in front of the ruin of what must have been a formidable castle a few hundred years ago. as he squinted at it through the mist, he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to head back to billy's flat and check to make sure he hadn't left the tea kettle on, but he fought this off when he saw another lone figure in the near distance.

"hey there," he called to the stranger. viggo didn't know he'd intended to speak until the words had already mingled with the mist.

the man turned, casting a wary glance in viggo's direction. "hello," he called back, "can i help you?" viggo liked the lilt of the man's accent: english, rather than indecipherable scottish, and a bit rough around the edges, as if it hadn't been used much recently.

viggo didn't answer, choosing instead to study the man, who looked a little worn down. he did not appear old or young, only tired. there was an air of mystery about him, and viggo didn't like that cliche either. at last he answered, "i'm vacationing here from the states. hiking today. are these ruins famous?" he gestured towards the rubble.

the man cocked an eyebrow. "these ... ruins, you say? no, no, nothing famous about these. say, what do you see there, anyway?"

viggo kept silent for another long moment. he felt as if this man knew something, had more cards in his hand or up his sleeve. he didn't want to lay down his own just yet. he chose his words carefully. "it was a castle. right?"

"it is a castle, more like, but ... ordinarily people like yourself, sir, if you don't mind my saying, they've gone by now, home to check on the stove or the iron or somesuch. you've not yet left. are you sure you don't see a castle? perhaps a particularly school-like one?"

viggo scratched his chin. "no. no one would want to study there, except maybe some archeology students."

the man suddenly broke into a grin. "well, in that case, welcome. you're muggle through and through, though i about doubted it for a minute there."

viggo cocked an eyebrow again. "muggle?"

"never you mind. name's remus, remus lupin. and you are ... ?"

"viggo."

"vee-go," the man stressed the first syllable in an unnaturally long fashion, "are you sure you're not one of ours?"

"huh?" viggo was now perplexed.

"let me buy you a drink." the man -- remus, viggo repeated to himself -- took viggo by the elbow and lead him around a little hillock. there was suddenly a path viggo had not noticed before, and he and remus walked along it until, again, suddenly, they were in a quaint scottish town. "welcome to hogsmeade, viggo."

::::

"so that's that, then. your world and ours. muggle and magical, intersecting right here. at our table in this fine pub." remus finished his whisky and smiled. his eyes twinkled, and viggo felt a bit of what he'd not been able to explain out on the hills settle over him again. magical, he'd called that feeling, and he'd been literally right. huh.

viggo sat back and downed the last of his own whisky. "so you're a wizard ... and you teach at the school? hogwarts?"

"indeed."

"i get the feeling you're not supposed to tell people like me what goes on up there."

"no, not usually ... no."

"but you have. why?"

remus considered him for a long moment. viggo felt his face flush hot under the scrutiny. when remus finally spoke, viggo could feel it in his bones. "you're ... different. nearly magical yourself. must be wizard or witch blood there somewhere, in your past. you don't come from near salem, massachusetts, do you?"

viggo couldn't stifle his chuckle. now this felt like the joke it had to be. "no, no witches in my past. none that i know of, at any rate."

remus smiled warmly, his face open and inviting. "a joke, then? you don't believe me?"

"nope." viggo returned the smile and waved to the barkeep for another round. when he turned back to remus, he found the man's face had gone serious again.

remus spoke softly, and viggo found himself leaning in to hear better. "there are some secrets, sir, that are best not laughed at."

viggo said nothing, and stayed where he was, close, attentive, poised. the barman brought the whiskies, and viggo and remus drank them in silence. viggo wondered what the other man was thinking.

the minutes ticked by in a haze of witty and brash banter from nearby tables. it was noon on a thursday but the clientele at the pub didn't seem to have anywhere else to be. as viggo enjoyed remus's calm presence, he was certain he could discern a crackle in the air, as odd as that sounded. perhaps it was magic. viggo was ready to believe it.

then remus set down his glass and placed his hand on viggo's arm, just above the elbow. viggo leaned in as if pulled close, closer than before. "you don't believe me," remus whispered, breath warm across viggo's cheek. "you will."

remus let viggo go and readied himself to leave the pub. viggo followed, aflame with curiosity, and remus did not make him wait long. just outside the pub, as the door swung to behind them, remus kissed him. in one deft motion, viggo found himself swirled into a torrent of what could only be called magic, but as far from the cliched sense of it as viggo's mind could decipher. it moved over and around and through him. in the kiss, through the searing heat of it and its tender, quiet overtones, viggo felt it again, felt what must have been magic. something deep inside him called out to this new thing, begging to be made one with it. perhaps there was wizard blood in him. perhaps this was where he belonged.

remus pulled away and, without looking back to see if viggo was following, headed back up the street and down the path they'd taken into town. viggo trotted behind, mind whirling, body tingling everywhere: places remus had been and places he hadn't.

time moved at its own pace and viggo moved in and out of it, following at remus's heels. as they neared the place where they'd first met an hour or two before, viggo paused, then stopped entirely. remus must have sensed this because he turned, eyes smiling on viggo, who stood, mouth agape. where there had been crumbling stone ruins not two hours before there now stood a marvelous, turreted castle. its windows were bright with inner candlelight, and viggo could hear laughter drifting down the valley.

hogwarts.

he was home.
 

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