STZ Chapter 3 Halloween
Severing the Zeppo
Chapter 3 Halloween
“You bloody bastard.” The right hook caught Angelus off guard as it smashed his nose. Damn the whelp had a good arm. “Can’t you stay out of my life for one fucking term?”
“What did I do this time . . . Alexander?”
“Malfoy.”
“That little prat?”
“Yes. Him. You . . .you . . .ARGH!” Angelus smirked.
Xander stormed around Hogwarts in a foul mood. Angelus -- the blood sucking fiend -- was intent on reeking havoc with his life. When he returned to Graditude (the recently named grad tower - well, it had started out being grad Attitude, but that was rather a mouthful…) he began calming down and moving potions ingredients around.
“Ju-eeze, Harris. You’ve gotta stop letting other people press your buttons, eh?”
“What would you know about it, Daemon?”
“I…”
“That’s what I thought.” Xander centered himself and using wandless magic sent the door slamming shut in Daemon’s face. “Good riddance.”
As annoyed as he was with Angelus and life, he slowly began collecting ingredients for a potion. He worked on it for hours, stirring and slicing. Waiting and simmering. Jasmine was added after sulfur. Venom came after powdered beetles. Smoke began to rise from the cauldron as a (dead) baby Bezor was added, followed by 5 drops of vampire blood - donated by Angelus as an apology. Finally the ending sealant for the hellmouth was complete. He sealed it inside of an unbreakable bottle and sent it post-haste to Sunnyhell and the Slayer.
Once the vial was sent he stepped back in shock. The recipe hadn’t been perfected when he’d started it, his instincts had just kicked in and there the potion was, complete. Jana would be pissed that she wasn’t here to help make the final product. Dismissing the thought, Xander turned and passed out on his bed, uncertain of what just happened.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the colonial reject.”
“Fuck off, Malfoy. I’m not in the mood for your childish games and pranks.”
“Got something better to do, Harris?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“Anything - how about this, go take a long walk off the Astronomy Tower, and you might live without a bloody nose.”
“Who do you think you are? Bloody Yankee.”
“I was raised on top of Hell and killed my best friend when I was 16. Who do you think I am?”
Draco raised an eyebrow in amusement. “So, you’re nothing more than a murderer.”
Xander’s eyes flashed with an emotion between sadness and contempt, “A very powerful murderer. Tell me, Draco Malfoy, are you afraid to--”
“Die?”
“No. Are you afraid to be damned for eternity? Are you afraid to step outside of the castle at night for fear of your blood being sucked out of your neck, wrist, or first available, rather juicy looking, artery?”
Draco didn’t respond.
“That’s what I thought. Xander stepped forward and put his hand on Draco’s neck. He caressed it lightly, Draco tried to take a step in retreat but found he couldn’t. He started to be very, very afraid of this American. Xander spoke softly, his words only for the two of them. “Until you know this fear, until you know the bite of a vampire or the howl of a werewolf as your friend turns into one, until you watch your best friend try to kill you, you cannot judge me.”
Xander was just putting the finishing touches on his schedule when there was a tapping on his window. He glanced up and saw Bacchus (Angelus’ owl) tapping at the window. Sighing he stood up and opened the window allowing Bacchus entrance. He untied the letter and summoned an owl treat from his trunk.
Whelp,
Urgent business has called me from our suite in the dungeons. My dark princess and I are taking a little vacation. It appears we will be unable to return to our suite. Our sire requested our stay with him, and you know how Angelus gets - refusal is futile. However, we will be back for your fun…
Spike
Finishing the letter, Xander grinned, set it aside and headed towards the potions classroom. Upon entering the room Snape glowered, still confused at the boys antics in the previous class. “Mr. Harris, I would appreciate at least an imitation of effort at not blowing up another cauldron.” The Slytherin students didn’t even bother snickering. They had quickly realized they couldn’t get any more than a self-mocking laugh out of the American.
Xander saluted Snape, the America way, and then carefully set up his cauldron.
“Mr. Harris.” Xander looked up from his simmering potion.
“Yes, sir?”
“Why do you insist on showing up in this class and letting your potion join the ranks of Longbottom’s on the floor of this classroom?”
“Umm, it’s fun to see you suffer?” Xander smirked. Snape glared. Xander frowned contemplatively, “I guess that’d be the wrong answer.” He smirked again.
“You would be correct. Detention after class, I happen to know this is your last class of the day.”
“Sir, yes sir. Would you like fries with that, sir?” Snape stalked away. The smirk died off of Xander’s face as he watched his father walk around the room glaring and insulting the student body. Great genetics, Xander mused, the ability to terrify a child with a single look, what a wonderful skill to have passed down generation to generation. Xander thought a moment then realized that much of Snape’s demeanor must have been copied from Angelus, he recognized a bit of the swagger and there was no way that two people could’ve developed that same sneer; that put him a very, very good mood. For, if anyone knew the Scourge of Europe, it had to be Alexander Lavelle Harris… err … Snape.
The rest of the class filed out of the room, leaving Xander alone with Professor Snape. Xander was sitting quietly at his desk reading his potions notes. Snape was glaring… as usual.
“Mr. Harris.” Xander blinked and looked up from his notes.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I was revising my notes from last week.”
“While I would be astonished to learn you could even print your name, let alone read, you are not serving detention in order to revise your notes.”
“I am aware of that, sir.” Snape stalked around the room and began yelling at Xander for “thinking himself more superior than the rest of the student body” and “being an immature boy who thought he was experienced enough to handle this class.”
Xander sat quietly, growing paler with each insult, and vague insinuation. Finally a hand rose and banged down directly in front of him and Xander stood up.
“Sir, you know nothing about what I think and who I am. While you may have every right to insult and make derogatory remarks towards the younger students, you have no such right with me. You may think you’re the “big bad,” but believe me when I say I’ve met the big bad and I have his sires teeth marks embedded in my throat.”
Snape blinked, taken aback. Xander stood and left.
“Students are not supposed to be out of bed at this hour, graduate student or no.”
“Professor McGonagall, I did not see you there.”
“Mr. Harris, your whether or not you saw me, has little to do with why you are currently roaming randomly around the castle.”
“Ah, caught that I see.”
“Yes, I did.” Professor McGonagall couldn’t help but be amused by Xander’s decidedly American exuberance. He seemed to genuinely enjoy wandering aimlessly around the castle, with no intent of mischief. She gestured across the hall, to where her office was conveniently located and they both sat down. “Would you tell me why you are wandering the halls?”
“Oh, the castle pleases me. There is nothing like this in the United States. I enjoy the feel of the magic in the stone and I just like the quiet.” After saying this he broke into a reminiscent smile.
“Something entertaining?”
“Actually, just remembering the last time I told someone that.” Minerva McGonagall did not look amused . . . so Xander enlightened her. “I was in a basement with two, err, guys. They set a bomb and it was within seconds of going off - very action movie-y thing. He asked me if I was afraid to die, I told him I liked the quiet. Just one of the many ways my life is weird.”
Professor McGonagall had a perplexed look on her face. “Where in America did you grow up?”
“California, in a small town outside of Los Angeles - in Sunnydale.”
“The Hellmouth.”
“Yup, met vampires too. Got the marks to prove it.” Xander bent his head to the side showing off where he had been bitten.
McGonagall looked at the boys’ neck, then at his face. “What’s bothering you, Mr. Harris?”
Xander looked at his professor. “Professor Snape. I walked out of detention tonight.”
“That must have pleased him.”
“Only in the I vant to drink your blood kind of way.”
“Today, class,” intoned Professor Lupin, “we will be discussing vampires and the Slayer. The oldest hunter of the Vampire is a called the Slayer. The slayer is a single girl who is blessed with powers. Now, can anyone tell me what these are?”
Xander’s hand was the first in the air. “Yes, Mr…?”
“Harris, sir. The slayer is given many special powers, among these are strength, speed, and the ability to out-pun her foe.”
Another hand rose. “Professor, the slayer is also granted the power to fly.” Xander snorted, failing to oppress his laughter.
“Mr. Harris?” The professor asked.
“This is incorrect sir. But, she can jump great heights. She once jumped over the fence at our high school. Our principle didn’t want to let her leave. She is also given a watcher, who trains her and records her activities.”
“Very good, Mr. Harris. Does anyone know who the current Slayers watcher is?”
Nobody answered… silence… Xander raised his hand. “Rupert Giles.”
“That is incorrect, Mr. Harris. Merrick is the--”
“Sorry, professor, but that is incorrect. Merrick was killed and a new watcher was assigned ‘watcher duties.’ And that man is Rupert Giles.”
“Very well, now who can tell me about slaying Vampires.”
Again only Xander raised his hand. Lupin sighed, “Mr. Harris?”
“To slay a vampire you need a stake, sunlight, holy water, car door, or some implement that can cut its head off. Now, the only time you’re in trouble is if the Vampire has the ring of Amara, then you’re pretty much screwed, unless you can remove the finger it’s on.”
“Mr. Harris?”
“Yes, sir?”
“How do you know so much about vampires?”
“Oh, well, you see I was raised on the Hellmouth. Slayer and vampires live in my neighborhood. Not to mention demons and werewolves.”
“You don’t count werewolves as demons?”
“Me? Nah, a good friend of mine was a werewolf. We lock him in a cage during the full moon. Heck, when you think about it, it’s only a few nights a month, and Oz, that’s the werewolf, he was a good teacher and a good friend. Of course, he got free a time or two, stun guns are good things those days.”
“Professor Lupin, you requested to see me?”
“Ah, yes Mr. Harris--”
“Please, call me Alex or Xander.”
“Of course, Alex. Where did you learn all of this?”
“I grew up on the Hellmouth in Sunnydale, California…like I said. There were all sorts of different people. I never judged a person by what they were.”
“I see. How did you receive a magical education?”
“Our school did special ed classes for those with magical talents. I happened to make friends with a slayer and her watcher. They introduced me to some of the darker sides of the Hellmouth.”
The two sat and chatted for a great length of time, making Xander late for Transfiguration. To excuse his students’ absence, Lupin wrote Xander a note to give to professor McGonagall. This was the first time Xander would find himself partnered with The Boy Who Lived … not that he was overly impressed.
“I can’t make this work.” Harry moaned, as he once again attempted to turn his chair into a horse. He tried again, the chair was a little charred after the attempt.
“Harry,” The boy looked over at the grad student.
“Yes…” he was obviously wracking his mind for Xander’s name, “Alexander?”
“It’s not in the words. You have to feel the flow of magic around you and will it to turn the chair into a horse.
“I don’t understand.”
“Ok, close your eyes.” He did, “do you feel the magic surrounding you? Do you feel it in your wand?”
“Yes.”
“Good, concentrate on that. Now, start the motion with you wand. Twine it ‘round.” Harry began making the complex motion with his hand. He also began to mutter the words to the spell. Xander wasn’t sure if the younger wizard even realized it.
A whinny echoed from where the chair had been.
“Well done, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall said. “Can you do as well as you teach, Mr. Harris?”
“Only when I find my center; I’ve always been better at teaching Transfiguration than at actually doing it.”
“Ah.”
When Angelus came to Hogwarts it was to visit Xander.
“Hey Angel…us.”
“Xander, I am not amused.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Xander grinned cheekily, “And I’m a marshmallow man, ohh! Gotta add graham crackers and a Hershey Bar - mmm, smores!”
“Been into the sugar recently?”
“Nah, chocolate is the only way to go.” Angelus groaned, Xander grinned more broadly.
“Have you seen Severus?”
Xander raised an eyebrow, “Guy, yay-tall? Black hair? Big nose? Surly disposition? Smells of potion fumes?”
“That’s him.”
“In the potions lab downstairs.”
“Ah, I believe I shall wait to visit him.”
Xander smirked.
A Hogsmeade weekend came towards the middle of the month and Xander visited the town in order to shop for a Halloween costume. He walked by an alleyway and stopped when he heard voices.
“I can’t do it any more?”
“Do what, Harry?”
“Be the Bloody Boy Who Wouldn’t Bloody Well Die.”
“But, Harry… like it or not, it’s who you are.” This voice was female and Xander placed it as being Hermione Granger.
“But, I’m sick of death and of fighting. I mean look, if I had died Cedric may still be alive.”
“Yes, but how many others would be dead?”
“Sometimes…. You know, sometime I just can’t seem to care.”
Xander walked down the alleyway to where the three were standing. “You know,” They started to see Xander standing there. “Destiny is an intriguing thing. There are loopholes to everything, but they’re never there when you need them.”
“What would you know about it?”
“My best friend has whole books of prophecies written about her, and she’s still alive.” Xander shrugged, “You’ll live or you’ll die. Not a lot you can do about it but give every fight your best.” Xander turned and walked off, leaving a very thoughtful Harry Potter behind him.
“Mr. Harris.” Xander looked up from his notes and saw Professor Lupin looking at him.
“Yes, Professor? What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if we could talk in private for a moment?”
“Of course,” Xander stood “where would you like to talk to me?” Lupin beckoned for Xander to follow him. When they entered his office, Lupin sat behind his desk while Xander took a seat in the visitor chair.
“Harry was here to see me not too long ago; he said you spoke to him.”
“Yes,”
“About the Slayer?”
“Yes.”
“I understand, from what Harry has said that she has prophecies written about her, would it be possible for Harry, what I mean is…”
“Could the Slayer meet Harry? I hope she will be able to make it to Hogwarts before the winter break. If she does I’ll introduce her to Harry. Perhaps she can offer some guidance, make him stop self-loathing all the time. Is that all?”
“Actually…” The Professor hesitated for a moment. “Your friend, the werewolf. I would like to meet him - if that is possible.”
“I’ll send Oz a note and see if he’s interested. I’ll make no promises Professor.”
“I would expect none. Thank you, Mr. Harris.”
Xander smiled, “Remember? Call me Alex, or Xander.”
Halloween was an interesting event that year. Xander caused a large stir when he turned down fifteen (different) invitations from various girls (and boys). It was rumored he had a “special” friend arriving to be his date, others said the dark haired man Xander was occasionally seen conversing with would escort him, while still others theorized that Xander would be attending with Charlie Weasley - Ron was highly amused at this rumor, and Xander strongly suspected that Ron started it, but took it all with a smile and a quip.
His costume was made of dragon hide and silk. He charmed his eyes black for the night and his skin whiter than normal. With another charm he made it appear he wasn’t breathing and grew out two of his teeth into sharp points. The teeth of course could retract. On his finger he wore a ring, marking his vampire order as that of the Order of Aurelius.
He walked into the great hall and everyone stopped and gawked. He merely walked through the room and stood in the shadows of a pillar, he also (to the amusement of many students) wore a glare that bested the worst one many had been given by Professor Snape. A half hour later two strangers entered the Great Hall and Xander moved to greet them.
The brunette female was pulled in for a kiss, as was the platinum haired male. It appeared that Drusilla and Spike had come back to Hogwarts. Xander pointed to where he had been sitting, and Spike walked over there and lurked, while Xander and Dru entered the dance floor for a waltz.
“Has kitten been a good boy?”
“Never, Dru. And have you been a good girl?”
The vampire laughed, “The stars shine so brightly as they laugh as mortals scream. Mummy has been a very bad girl… will you punish me?”
Xander laughed, “Let’s leave that job for Spike, love.”
Several girls asked Xander to dance and he happily obliged. Traditional dances preceded the music which was made to wither to. He waltzed and swing danced with anyone who asked (male, female, or vampire).
“So, whelp, which one is dad?” Xander nodded towards Professor Snape.
“The one with the sneer.”
“Fits in with the Pouf.”
“Now, now, lover, play nice.”
Spike smirked, “When have I ever played nice?” Spike moved over to where Severus stood. “’ello cutie.” Severus turned and glared at Spike. “Aww, don’t you want to play?”
Severus cocked an eyebrow, “And who are you?”
“Name’s Spike, luv.” He trailed a finger down the prof’s cheek. “And it’s is my pleasure to meet you… definitely my pleasure.”
“Aren’t the American and the Brunette enough for you?” Spike laughed.
“Dark and broody… I like it.” Spike moved in crowding his space, Spike reached out and stroked Snape’s face. His hand was promptly caught in a hard grip.
“Vampire.”
Spike bowed slightly, “Pleasure to meet you, Death Eater.” Severus paled. “See, luv, there’s one thing you should remember, I never asked to be turned into a vampire, it wasn’t consensual. My sire,” He nodded towards Dru, “offered me power, she merely neglected to mention I’d become evil to obtain it. You, however, you knew you were selling your soul when you took that mark….think about that before judging us.”
Spike moved away from Severus not long after and looked to see Xander out on the dance floor pulsating to the music. “’scuse me love, the whelp needs me to dance with him.”
Spike moved to where Xander was dancing - he grabbed the boy and pulled him into his body. “’ello cutie.”
Xander grinned at him and pulled Spike into a long, thorough, kiss. His tongue swept teasingly into Spikes mouth. “Hey, bleached menace.” Xander rubbed suggestively against Spike with a grin.
When they left the dance floor, Xander left to get punch (dragging Spike with him). With his glass of a fruity mixture he made his way over to Draco.
“Draco.” The boy turned around smirking.
“Couldn’t stay away, Harris?”
“Actually, I know you’ve met Spike, but I thought you should talk to him.”
“Why?”
Xander raised an eyebrow then looked at the boy’s arm, “Decisions, Draco Malfoy, decisions.”
“Ahem,” Xander turned at the distinct clearing of a voice.
“Headmaster.”
“Young Alexander, I trust your friends have suitable places to stay?”
“Yes, they will be spending the next few days with their sire Angelus.” Xander smirked, “I believe they have been feeling like causing mayhem for awhile.”
“How…intriguing.” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling. “I trust there will be no causalities.”
“I can give you no answer for them, professor. Where there are, there are.”
“That simple?”
Xander’s eyes darkened, “Nothing is ever simple for those who were born on the Hellmouth.”
Spike chose this moment to speak up. “The whelp speaks true and is wise. Tell dark and gloomy that if he gives my boy any trouble, I’ll bite him.”
“Of course, William.” Spike briefly morphed his face and growled before walking over and pulling an unwilling Draco into a dance.
Xander saw Snape leave and Angelus move after him.
At this point Xander began examining what other students came as, Hermione was dressed as an elf, while Draco Malfoy came dressed as an incubus, and Harry was dressed as death, he came as a reaper. Xander found this very fitting.
At the end of the Halloween ball, Xander went downstairs and walked into the potions room in order to ask Professor Snape a question about a potion they were making in their next class. He figured it would be better to ask now when the Professor’s wits were dulled by wine than when he was his usual sarcastic self. When he opened the door he just about passed out. Sitting, well more lying on the desk, were Severus Snape and Angelus, snogging. Xander cleared his throat, “jeeze get a private room.” His voice sounded faint to his own ears.
Angelus broke the kiss and smirked. “We had one, until you barged in.”
“Yeah, yeah, blame the American.”
“That’s why you’re American, so we have someone to blame.” Angelus returned to kissing Snape.
Xander stood and watched for a moment. “Was there something you wanted, Mr. Harris?” Snape sounded slightly put out, and his voice was husky.
Xander thought for a moment… “A bucket of ice water to douse you two with?” He smirked and fled, the curse thrown by Professor Snape barely missing him.
Xander turned with the intent to walk back towards his room, when the magic of the walls started pulling him towards the entry. Standing there was a blond girl holding a conversation with Merlin, while the elderly man who stood behind her talked to a picture of the Headmaster.
“Buffy!” The girl turned around and smiled.
“Xander, it’s so good to see you.”
“G-man.” Xander offered his hand, “Glad you could make it.”
Giles smiled and wondered when Xander had grown up.
Continue to Chapter 4: Thanksging and Beyond!
Chapter 3 Halloween
“You bloody bastard.” The right hook caught Angelus off guard as it smashed his nose. Damn the whelp had a good arm. “Can’t you stay out of my life for one fucking term?”
“What did I do this time . . . Alexander?”
“Malfoy.”
“That little prat?”
“Yes. Him. You . . .you . . .ARGH!” Angelus smirked.
Xander stormed around Hogwarts in a foul mood. Angelus -- the blood sucking fiend -- was intent on reeking havoc with his life. When he returned to Graditude (the recently named grad tower - well, it had started out being grad Attitude, but that was rather a mouthful…) he began calming down and moving potions ingredients around.
“Ju-eeze, Harris. You’ve gotta stop letting other people press your buttons, eh?”
“What would you know about it, Daemon?”
“I…”
“That’s what I thought.” Xander centered himself and using wandless magic sent the door slamming shut in Daemon’s face. “Good riddance.”
As annoyed as he was with Angelus and life, he slowly began collecting ingredients for a potion. He worked on it for hours, stirring and slicing. Waiting and simmering. Jasmine was added after sulfur. Venom came after powdered beetles. Smoke began to rise from the cauldron as a (dead) baby Bezor was added, followed by 5 drops of vampire blood - donated by Angelus as an apology. Finally the ending sealant for the hellmouth was complete. He sealed it inside of an unbreakable bottle and sent it post-haste to Sunnyhell and the Slayer.
Once the vial was sent he stepped back in shock. The recipe hadn’t been perfected when he’d started it, his instincts had just kicked in and there the potion was, complete. Jana would be pissed that she wasn’t here to help make the final product. Dismissing the thought, Xander turned and passed out on his bed, uncertain of what just happened.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the colonial reject.”
“Fuck off, Malfoy. I’m not in the mood for your childish games and pranks.”
“Got something better to do, Harris?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“Anything - how about this, go take a long walk off the Astronomy Tower, and you might live without a bloody nose.”
“Who do you think you are? Bloody Yankee.”
“I was raised on top of Hell and killed my best friend when I was 16. Who do you think I am?”
Draco raised an eyebrow in amusement. “So, you’re nothing more than a murderer.”
Xander’s eyes flashed with an emotion between sadness and contempt, “A very powerful murderer. Tell me, Draco Malfoy, are you afraid to--”
“Die?”
“No. Are you afraid to be damned for eternity? Are you afraid to step outside of the castle at night for fear of your blood being sucked out of your neck, wrist, or first available, rather juicy looking, artery?”
Draco didn’t respond.
“That’s what I thought. Xander stepped forward and put his hand on Draco’s neck. He caressed it lightly, Draco tried to take a step in retreat but found he couldn’t. He started to be very, very afraid of this American. Xander spoke softly, his words only for the two of them. “Until you know this fear, until you know the bite of a vampire or the howl of a werewolf as your friend turns into one, until you watch your best friend try to kill you, you cannot judge me.”
Xander was just putting the finishing touches on his schedule when there was a tapping on his window. He glanced up and saw Bacchus (Angelus’ owl) tapping at the window. Sighing he stood up and opened the window allowing Bacchus entrance. He untied the letter and summoned an owl treat from his trunk.
Whelp,
Urgent business has called me from our suite in the dungeons. My dark princess and I are taking a little vacation. It appears we will be unable to return to our suite. Our sire requested our stay with him, and you know how Angelus gets - refusal is futile. However, we will be back for your fun…
Spike
Finishing the letter, Xander grinned, set it aside and headed towards the potions classroom. Upon entering the room Snape glowered, still confused at the boys antics in the previous class. “Mr. Harris, I would appreciate at least an imitation of effort at not blowing up another cauldron.” The Slytherin students didn’t even bother snickering. They had quickly realized they couldn’t get any more than a self-mocking laugh out of the American.
Xander saluted Snape, the America way, and then carefully set up his cauldron.
“Mr. Harris.” Xander looked up from his simmering potion.
“Yes, sir?”
“Why do you insist on showing up in this class and letting your potion join the ranks of Longbottom’s on the floor of this classroom?”
“Umm, it’s fun to see you suffer?” Xander smirked. Snape glared. Xander frowned contemplatively, “I guess that’d be the wrong answer.” He smirked again.
“You would be correct. Detention after class, I happen to know this is your last class of the day.”
“Sir, yes sir. Would you like fries with that, sir?” Snape stalked away. The smirk died off of Xander’s face as he watched his father walk around the room glaring and insulting the student body. Great genetics, Xander mused, the ability to terrify a child with a single look, what a wonderful skill to have passed down generation to generation. Xander thought a moment then realized that much of Snape’s demeanor must have been copied from Angelus, he recognized a bit of the swagger and there was no way that two people could’ve developed that same sneer; that put him a very, very good mood. For, if anyone knew the Scourge of Europe, it had to be Alexander Lavelle Harris… err … Snape.
The rest of the class filed out of the room, leaving Xander alone with Professor Snape. Xander was sitting quietly at his desk reading his potions notes. Snape was glaring… as usual.
“Mr. Harris.” Xander blinked and looked up from his notes.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I was revising my notes from last week.”
“While I would be astonished to learn you could even print your name, let alone read, you are not serving detention in order to revise your notes.”
“I am aware of that, sir.” Snape stalked around the room and began yelling at Xander for “thinking himself more superior than the rest of the student body” and “being an immature boy who thought he was experienced enough to handle this class.”
Xander sat quietly, growing paler with each insult, and vague insinuation. Finally a hand rose and banged down directly in front of him and Xander stood up.
“Sir, you know nothing about what I think and who I am. While you may have every right to insult and make derogatory remarks towards the younger students, you have no such right with me. You may think you’re the “big bad,” but believe me when I say I’ve met the big bad and I have his sires teeth marks embedded in my throat.”
Snape blinked, taken aback. Xander stood and left.
“Students are not supposed to be out of bed at this hour, graduate student or no.”
“Professor McGonagall, I did not see you there.”
“Mr. Harris, your whether or not you saw me, has little to do with why you are currently roaming randomly around the castle.”
“Ah, caught that I see.”
“Yes, I did.” Professor McGonagall couldn’t help but be amused by Xander’s decidedly American exuberance. He seemed to genuinely enjoy wandering aimlessly around the castle, with no intent of mischief. She gestured across the hall, to where her office was conveniently located and they both sat down. “Would you tell me why you are wandering the halls?”
“Oh, the castle pleases me. There is nothing like this in the United States. I enjoy the feel of the magic in the stone and I just like the quiet.” After saying this he broke into a reminiscent smile.
“Something entertaining?”
“Actually, just remembering the last time I told someone that.” Minerva McGonagall did not look amused . . . so Xander enlightened her. “I was in a basement with two, err, guys. They set a bomb and it was within seconds of going off - very action movie-y thing. He asked me if I was afraid to die, I told him I liked the quiet. Just one of the many ways my life is weird.”
Professor McGonagall had a perplexed look on her face. “Where in America did you grow up?”
“California, in a small town outside of Los Angeles - in Sunnydale.”
“The Hellmouth.”
“Yup, met vampires too. Got the marks to prove it.” Xander bent his head to the side showing off where he had been bitten.
McGonagall looked at the boys’ neck, then at his face. “What’s bothering you, Mr. Harris?”
Xander looked at his professor. “Professor Snape. I walked out of detention tonight.”
“That must have pleased him.”
“Only in the I vant to drink your blood kind of way.”
“Today, class,” intoned Professor Lupin, “we will be discussing vampires and the Slayer. The oldest hunter of the Vampire is a called the Slayer. The slayer is a single girl who is blessed with powers. Now, can anyone tell me what these are?”
Xander’s hand was the first in the air. “Yes, Mr…?”
“Harris, sir. The slayer is given many special powers, among these are strength, speed, and the ability to out-pun her foe.”
Another hand rose. “Professor, the slayer is also granted the power to fly.” Xander snorted, failing to oppress his laughter.
“Mr. Harris?” The professor asked.
“This is incorrect sir. But, she can jump great heights. She once jumped over the fence at our high school. Our principle didn’t want to let her leave. She is also given a watcher, who trains her and records her activities.”
“Very good, Mr. Harris. Does anyone know who the current Slayers watcher is?”
Nobody answered… silence… Xander raised his hand. “Rupert Giles.”
“That is incorrect, Mr. Harris. Merrick is the--”
“Sorry, professor, but that is incorrect. Merrick was killed and a new watcher was assigned ‘watcher duties.’ And that man is Rupert Giles.”
“Very well, now who can tell me about slaying Vampires.”
Again only Xander raised his hand. Lupin sighed, “Mr. Harris?”
“To slay a vampire you need a stake, sunlight, holy water, car door, or some implement that can cut its head off. Now, the only time you’re in trouble is if the Vampire has the ring of Amara, then you’re pretty much screwed, unless you can remove the finger it’s on.”
“Mr. Harris?”
“Yes, sir?”
“How do you know so much about vampires?”
“Oh, well, you see I was raised on the Hellmouth. Slayer and vampires live in my neighborhood. Not to mention demons and werewolves.”
“You don’t count werewolves as demons?”
“Me? Nah, a good friend of mine was a werewolf. We lock him in a cage during the full moon. Heck, when you think about it, it’s only a few nights a month, and Oz, that’s the werewolf, he was a good teacher and a good friend. Of course, he got free a time or two, stun guns are good things those days.”
“Professor Lupin, you requested to see me?”
“Ah, yes Mr. Harris--”
“Please, call me Alex or Xander.”
“Of course, Alex. Where did you learn all of this?”
“I grew up on the Hellmouth in Sunnydale, California…like I said. There were all sorts of different people. I never judged a person by what they were.”
“I see. How did you receive a magical education?”
“Our school did special ed classes for those with magical talents. I happened to make friends with a slayer and her watcher. They introduced me to some of the darker sides of the Hellmouth.”
The two sat and chatted for a great length of time, making Xander late for Transfiguration. To excuse his students’ absence, Lupin wrote Xander a note to give to professor McGonagall. This was the first time Xander would find himself partnered with The Boy Who Lived … not that he was overly impressed.
“I can’t make this work.” Harry moaned, as he once again attempted to turn his chair into a horse. He tried again, the chair was a little charred after the attempt.
“Harry,” The boy looked over at the grad student.
“Yes…” he was obviously wracking his mind for Xander’s name, “Alexander?”
“It’s not in the words. You have to feel the flow of magic around you and will it to turn the chair into a horse.
“I don’t understand.”
“Ok, close your eyes.” He did, “do you feel the magic surrounding you? Do you feel it in your wand?”
“Yes.”
“Good, concentrate on that. Now, start the motion with you wand. Twine it ‘round.” Harry began making the complex motion with his hand. He also began to mutter the words to the spell. Xander wasn’t sure if the younger wizard even realized it.
A whinny echoed from where the chair had been.
“Well done, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall said. “Can you do as well as you teach, Mr. Harris?”
“Only when I find my center; I’ve always been better at teaching Transfiguration than at actually doing it.”
“Ah.”
When Angelus came to Hogwarts it was to visit Xander.
“Hey Angel…us.”
“Xander, I am not amused.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Xander grinned cheekily, “And I’m a marshmallow man, ohh! Gotta add graham crackers and a Hershey Bar - mmm, smores!”
“Been into the sugar recently?”
“Nah, chocolate is the only way to go.” Angelus groaned, Xander grinned more broadly.
“Have you seen Severus?”
Xander raised an eyebrow, “Guy, yay-tall? Black hair? Big nose? Surly disposition? Smells of potion fumes?”
“That’s him.”
“In the potions lab downstairs.”
“Ah, I believe I shall wait to visit him.”
Xander smirked.
A Hogsmeade weekend came towards the middle of the month and Xander visited the town in order to shop for a Halloween costume. He walked by an alleyway and stopped when he heard voices.
“I can’t do it any more?”
“Do what, Harry?”
“Be the Bloody Boy Who Wouldn’t Bloody Well Die.”
“But, Harry… like it or not, it’s who you are.” This voice was female and Xander placed it as being Hermione Granger.
“But, I’m sick of death and of fighting. I mean look, if I had died Cedric may still be alive.”
“Yes, but how many others would be dead?”
“Sometimes…. You know, sometime I just can’t seem to care.”
Xander walked down the alleyway to where the three were standing. “You know,” They started to see Xander standing there. “Destiny is an intriguing thing. There are loopholes to everything, but they’re never there when you need them.”
“What would you know about it?”
“My best friend has whole books of prophecies written about her, and she’s still alive.” Xander shrugged, “You’ll live or you’ll die. Not a lot you can do about it but give every fight your best.” Xander turned and walked off, leaving a very thoughtful Harry Potter behind him.
“Mr. Harris.” Xander looked up from his notes and saw Professor Lupin looking at him.
“Yes, Professor? What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if we could talk in private for a moment?”
“Of course,” Xander stood “where would you like to talk to me?” Lupin beckoned for Xander to follow him. When they entered his office, Lupin sat behind his desk while Xander took a seat in the visitor chair.
“Harry was here to see me not too long ago; he said you spoke to him.”
“Yes,”
“About the Slayer?”
“Yes.”
“I understand, from what Harry has said that she has prophecies written about her, would it be possible for Harry, what I mean is…”
“Could the Slayer meet Harry? I hope she will be able to make it to Hogwarts before the winter break. If she does I’ll introduce her to Harry. Perhaps she can offer some guidance, make him stop self-loathing all the time. Is that all?”
“Actually…” The Professor hesitated for a moment. “Your friend, the werewolf. I would like to meet him - if that is possible.”
“I’ll send Oz a note and see if he’s interested. I’ll make no promises Professor.”
“I would expect none. Thank you, Mr. Harris.”
Xander smiled, “Remember? Call me Alex, or Xander.”
Halloween was an interesting event that year. Xander caused a large stir when he turned down fifteen (different) invitations from various girls (and boys). It was rumored he had a “special” friend arriving to be his date, others said the dark haired man Xander was occasionally seen conversing with would escort him, while still others theorized that Xander would be attending with Charlie Weasley - Ron was highly amused at this rumor, and Xander strongly suspected that Ron started it, but took it all with a smile and a quip.
His costume was made of dragon hide and silk. He charmed his eyes black for the night and his skin whiter than normal. With another charm he made it appear he wasn’t breathing and grew out two of his teeth into sharp points. The teeth of course could retract. On his finger he wore a ring, marking his vampire order as that of the Order of Aurelius.
He walked into the great hall and everyone stopped and gawked. He merely walked through the room and stood in the shadows of a pillar, he also (to the amusement of many students) wore a glare that bested the worst one many had been given by Professor Snape. A half hour later two strangers entered the Great Hall and Xander moved to greet them.
The brunette female was pulled in for a kiss, as was the platinum haired male. It appeared that Drusilla and Spike had come back to Hogwarts. Xander pointed to where he had been sitting, and Spike walked over there and lurked, while Xander and Dru entered the dance floor for a waltz.
“Has kitten been a good boy?”
“Never, Dru. And have you been a good girl?”
The vampire laughed, “The stars shine so brightly as they laugh as mortals scream. Mummy has been a very bad girl… will you punish me?”
Xander laughed, “Let’s leave that job for Spike, love.”
Several girls asked Xander to dance and he happily obliged. Traditional dances preceded the music which was made to wither to. He waltzed and swing danced with anyone who asked (male, female, or vampire).
“So, whelp, which one is dad?” Xander nodded towards Professor Snape.
“The one with the sneer.”
“Fits in with the Pouf.”
“Now, now, lover, play nice.”
Spike smirked, “When have I ever played nice?” Spike moved over to where Severus stood. “’ello cutie.” Severus turned and glared at Spike. “Aww, don’t you want to play?”
Severus cocked an eyebrow, “And who are you?”
“Name’s Spike, luv.” He trailed a finger down the prof’s cheek. “And it’s is my pleasure to meet you… definitely my pleasure.”
“Aren’t the American and the Brunette enough for you?” Spike laughed.
“Dark and broody… I like it.” Spike moved in crowding his space, Spike reached out and stroked Snape’s face. His hand was promptly caught in a hard grip.
“Vampire.”
Spike bowed slightly, “Pleasure to meet you, Death Eater.” Severus paled. “See, luv, there’s one thing you should remember, I never asked to be turned into a vampire, it wasn’t consensual. My sire,” He nodded towards Dru, “offered me power, she merely neglected to mention I’d become evil to obtain it. You, however, you knew you were selling your soul when you took that mark….think about that before judging us.”
Spike moved away from Severus not long after and looked to see Xander out on the dance floor pulsating to the music. “’scuse me love, the whelp needs me to dance with him.”
Spike moved to where Xander was dancing - he grabbed the boy and pulled him into his body. “’ello cutie.”
Xander grinned at him and pulled Spike into a long, thorough, kiss. His tongue swept teasingly into Spikes mouth. “Hey, bleached menace.” Xander rubbed suggestively against Spike with a grin.
When they left the dance floor, Xander left to get punch (dragging Spike with him). With his glass of a fruity mixture he made his way over to Draco.
“Draco.” The boy turned around smirking.
“Couldn’t stay away, Harris?”
“Actually, I know you’ve met Spike, but I thought you should talk to him.”
“Why?”
Xander raised an eyebrow then looked at the boy’s arm, “Decisions, Draco Malfoy, decisions.”
“Ahem,” Xander turned at the distinct clearing of a voice.
“Headmaster.”
“Young Alexander, I trust your friends have suitable places to stay?”
“Yes, they will be spending the next few days with their sire Angelus.” Xander smirked, “I believe they have been feeling like causing mayhem for awhile.”
“How…intriguing.” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling. “I trust there will be no causalities.”
“I can give you no answer for them, professor. Where there are, there are.”
“That simple?”
Xander’s eyes darkened, “Nothing is ever simple for those who were born on the Hellmouth.”
Spike chose this moment to speak up. “The whelp speaks true and is wise. Tell dark and gloomy that if he gives my boy any trouble, I’ll bite him.”
“Of course, William.” Spike briefly morphed his face and growled before walking over and pulling an unwilling Draco into a dance.
Xander saw Snape leave and Angelus move after him.
At this point Xander began examining what other students came as, Hermione was dressed as an elf, while Draco Malfoy came dressed as an incubus, and Harry was dressed as death, he came as a reaper. Xander found this very fitting.
At the end of the Halloween ball, Xander went downstairs and walked into the potions room in order to ask Professor Snape a question about a potion they were making in their next class. He figured it would be better to ask now when the Professor’s wits were dulled by wine than when he was his usual sarcastic self. When he opened the door he just about passed out. Sitting, well more lying on the desk, were Severus Snape and Angelus, snogging. Xander cleared his throat, “jeeze get a private room.” His voice sounded faint to his own ears.
Angelus broke the kiss and smirked. “We had one, until you barged in.”
“Yeah, yeah, blame the American.”
“That’s why you’re American, so we have someone to blame.” Angelus returned to kissing Snape.
Xander stood and watched for a moment. “Was there something you wanted, Mr. Harris?” Snape sounded slightly put out, and his voice was husky.
Xander thought for a moment… “A bucket of ice water to douse you two with?” He smirked and fled, the curse thrown by Professor Snape barely missing him.
Xander turned with the intent to walk back towards his room, when the magic of the walls started pulling him towards the entry. Standing there was a blond girl holding a conversation with Merlin, while the elderly man who stood behind her talked to a picture of the Headmaster.
“Buffy!” The girl turned around and smiled.
“Xander, it’s so good to see you.”
“G-man.” Xander offered his hand, “Glad you could make it.”
Giles smiled and wondered when Xander had grown up.
Continue to Chapter 4: Thanksging and Beyond!