Severing the Zeppo - Chapter 2
Severing the Zeppo
Well…that’s over, finally. Xander flopped into his bed and looked around the room. Finally, he had somewhere quiet and all his own where he could just relax without worrying about the health dangers that might come from the unexpected awakening of an intoxicated elder.
He got up, undressed, and slid into bed between pre-warmed, silk sheets. The four-poster had originally come with white cotton, but the silk had been a present from Angelus just before he left for school. Xander closed his eyes and imagined each of his friends in his mind’s eye, wishing them well before he drifted to sleep.
The next morning dawned bright and early. Xander stumbled out of bed, dressed, brushed his teeth and wandered down to the Great Hall. He woke up considerably as many of the portraits wished him good morning. It perked up his spirits to know that they remembered him.
At breakfast, Xander sat and ate with the other graduate students. Occasionally he would get up and meander to one of the house tables and sit with them for five or ten minutes, talking about the professors and what he would expect in their classes. He also received his timesheet and an explanation note attached to it.
The note read:
Dear Mr. Harris,
This timetable, as you have undoubtedly observed, is created so that with a tap of your wand you may alter your course schedule. As a graduate student, you have obviously not been sorted, allowing you to take classes with any house you wish. Each weekend you will be able to adjust your classes. This will allow you to get to know members from each of the different houses. We do not demand that you pick any specific schedule absolutely. In fact, you are encouraged to change your classes each week for the entire year. Like to keep the other Professors on their toes!
We hope you will enjoy your time studying here at Hogwarts,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
Xander was elated. He looked at the timesheet, taking a once over of all his different classes and possible classes. Dumbledore knew that he had a wish to study most extensively in Potions, thus he was set to take twice as many as any of the other students. He would attend all the 6th and 7th year Potions classes. The first one would be in 15 minutes.
Xander had no real love of acting, having done it his entire life in Sunnydale. He considered it drawn-out-lies and didn’t like to give way to such subterfuge, if he could avoid it. Living in the castle, being Harris and not Snape, annoying the crap out of his birth-father, now THAT kind of acting was going to be fun!
Xander had decided to make it his habit to be early for each of his first classes, in order to get to know the Prof. a little before the rest of the students thundered in. Therefore, before anyone else had finished breakfast, Xander Harris was already trailing his fingers along the wall, letting the castle lead him to the dungeon classroom.
Snape was not one to suffer fools lightly, “What are you doing here?” He sneered menacingly at the American graduate.
“Sitting?” Xander looked around the lab, then down at his stool, then up at the professor, “Yeah, definitely sitting.” He grinned. It helped nothing.
Snape, of course, knew all about Xander’s desire to study extra potions, having been owled that morning with class lists for all the classes for the term. He was rather appalled to find Harris’ name on at least two of them. He also knew that nearly anything the boy knew about the delicate art had been self-taught. This would be a hellish year.
If the American could only be scared off. Yes…scare off the American and I would no longer need to instruct him. Snape’s lips curled into an ominous smile, “So, you wish to learn potions.”
Xander affected a shocked look, not something that Snape was used to seeing when he became creepy, and swirled around the classroom, looking at everything as if seeing it for the first time, “Holy Cow! Is this a potions lab?! Silly me, I was looking for the local magical beauty school.” Smirk.
Sigh. “You’re wasting my time, Mr. Harris.” Snape returned to looking over his teaching notes.
Five minutes passed in silence (or it would have been silence if Xander hadn’t been tapping his pencil idly on the tabletop, thus driving Snape mad). Students began to file nervously into the classroom. This was when Xander realized that this was the first Post-O.W.L. class for these students with Professor Snape. This was the N.E.W.T. class. Evil chuckle.
An eyebrow quirked from the front of the class as the students filed in, casting wary glances at the stranger. The class was so small that it included students from every house. Xander settled in and prepared to be the best he knew how to be. Bring on the fun.
Snape prowled the front of the class, eyeing the students who, for the most part, attempted not to shrink in their seats at least a little.
“Let’s brush up on some basics.” Oh, this was the best. Intimidation with the same old students. He hadn’t used this question in the last few years and few knew the answer, “Mr. Harris. Can you tell me where you would locate a bezoar?”
Xander caught himself, forcing himself not to laugh, “Well…lemme think now. Bezoar, bezoar…there was one in the Sunnyhell High basement…wait, no, we hacked that one up.” Xander pretended to think some more, “A bezoar that hasn’t already tasted axe…I’m sorry Professor,” He looked up, unwincingly meeting Snape’s steely gaze, “I have no idea. We made mincemeat outta the last one.” Cocky grin.
Scowl. “Thank you, Mr. Harris. I’m sure the entire class enjoyed that idiotic display.” Snape’s eyes swept across the room just to make sure they hadn’t. He ascertained they he was still feared, if not completely respected for allowing it to happen.
Class passed merrily enough for Xander. He could practically hear Snape grinding his teeth for the hour that he spent in the dungeon. He spilled his cauldron, added the wrong ingredients, incorrectly timed his waiting period, and stirred counter-clockwise instead of clockwise. Snape was going crazy. You could practically hear his sigh of relief as the American walked out of the room, chatting merrily with a fellow student.
Classes went well for the rest of the day, as well. Xander saw Hagrid again at a Care of Magical Creatures lesson and met Professor Sprout during Herbology. For the first month at Hogwarts Xander would be trying out all the different classes, some at several different years, just to see what he liked and where he fit in. He had noticed that the specific classes he had requested were all over the place as far as what year he would be taking them with.
Class Schedule: Xander Harris
Arithmancy: Third Year
Care of Magical Creatures: Fourth Year
Charms: Sixth Year
Divination: Fourth Year
Potions: Sixth and Seventh Year
Transfiguration: Fifth Year
He was also free to sit in on any classes he wish, so long as they didn’t interfere with his regularly scheduled class schedule, which was why he was at Herbology. He had nothing going on for an hour and found himself wandering out towards the greenhouses where Professor Sprout had invited him to sit in on her lesson.
As night approached, Xander found himself more than happy to just stumble into bed and sleep for days. Although he had enjoyed his first day of classes in the castle, he was more than slightly exhausted. He wasn’t used to being around so many people at once. Be safe, Will, Dru. I’m going to need you guys when you get here. You were right, this whole people thing is tiring.
And, with that “prayer” out of the way, Xander Harris conked out, still fully dressed, sans robes.
By lunchtime on Wednesday, Xander was slowly getting used to being around so many people. At least he wasn’t having the problems that the other Grads and First Years were encountering, getting lost. Somehow the castle seemed more than happy to lead him wherever he wanted to go and, for this, he was truly thankful.
It was just after lunch on Wednesday afternoon and Xander found himself staring up at a trapdoor. “Ehm…Professor Trelawney?” He had yet to meet the woman (or even see her) and was…skeptical about this whole Divination thing. Giles, however, had been adamant that he learn at least a little about the art. “Professor?” He raised his voice.
He could hear voices from overhead. Two voices. Both decidedly female. They sounded like they were gossiping. Then it stopped.
A ladder dropped in front of him and he found himself watching the bottom rung come down. This would perhaps explain the reason that he completely missed the squealing brunette who launched herself down at him, “OH MY GOD!! XANDER HARRIS!” More squealing.
Somehow, in a way that magic would never be able to explain, Xander not only caught the brunette, but he also managed not to fall over and split his skull open on the stone steps behind him.
He righted himself, looked at the brunette and began to squeal too (although he would never admit to doing something so unmanly, particularly if Spike were around) “CORDY!!”
Hug. Squeal. Hug. A little bit of jumping up and down. Then they both climbed up to the tower classroom so that Xander could meet Trelawney.
After being poured a cup of tea in a pretty blue willow teacup, and being introduced to the infamous Divination’s Professor, Xander turned to Cordy, “So…why are you here? Last thing I’d heard was that you were studying in L.A.”
Cordy grinned. She had been studying in L.A. at another hybrid magic-highschool. Her parents had moved so that she could attend The Academy. It was nicer than Sunnydale High and could actually afford to hire enough teachers for every subject. Cordy, however, had not been attending for magical purposes because she had been thought to be a muggle. That was before Doyle.
“You see,” she said, “Doyle liked to wander around the school. He was a demon but you couldn’t tell it by looking at him. She had a direct line-of-sight to the PTB.” At Xander’s confusion she elaborated, “The Powers That Be. He thought that I had seer potential and so he introduced me in his class. Everyone else was told that I was doing Advanced Physics.” She grinned.
Xander laughed - Cordy hated physics.
“Anyway, that was about two years before the attack on The Academy. A bunch of rowdy demon-haters raided the school and killed Doyle after one of his classes. I was there when it happened and the PTB latched onto me as the nearest, trustworthy person. Now, to make a long story short-“
“Too late.”
Cordy glared, evil glare number 6. Meaning shut up and sit down her royal highness Queen C is speaking.
“They transferred Doyle’s visions to me. So now I actually am a seer and I’ve been studying it for about two years.”
Trelawney smiled serenely, as if tales of dead demons and the PTB were everyday common. But it didn’t last long because another tap came at the trapdoor. The rest of the class had arrived.
“Class!” Trelawney said in a soft, misty voice.
Cordy leaned over to Xander, “She loves doing that. The voice thing - she thinks it makes her sound more like the T.V. fortune-tellers. You know,” Cordy closed her eyes and imitated, “I see mist…wait. No, there’s something coming forwards, who here has relation to a short mulberry bush? Mrs. Patterson! I thought so. Your dead husband…he wants it gone. I see it withering away…” She opened her eyes and grinned.
Trelawney sent Cordelia a scowl, “As I was saying. This is Ms. Chase. She is my new assistant and will be helping with classes for the year.”
This was met with looks of interest and trepidation.
Xander spent a pleasant hour in the tower - chuckling with Cordelia as Trelawney made reference after reference for her own amusement - amusement that went over the heads of the rest of the class.
Cordy, however, didn’t spend the entire time sitting around. She got up and helped students with tea leaves, crystal balls, and star charts as they were doing some basic review.
“All right, class.” She said as people started gathering their things, “Remember to read chapter 11 on Palmistry for the next class. Dismissed.”
Xander looked around as the students filed out…“Umm, I’m confused?”
Cordy sniggered, “That’s nothing new, is it? Come on, Xand. Show me where you’re staying and on the way I’ll fill you in.”
As they walked, Cordy explained to Xander that any real students who had sight potential were given private lessons with Trelawney. The larger lessons were just a way for her to pass the time. There was little chance that any of those students would develop any amount of sight over the years that they were with her. She just used them to weed out the real seers from the “riff-raff.”
The next week, and the one after that, passed in quiet. There was little to do besides trying not to get lost in a castle that was hell-bent on sending you into the dungeons every third day. Xander had been seen to yell at the walls, telling them things like “No! Not Potions, Arithmancy!” and “I just came from the dungeons! I was trying to get to dinner!” The local consensus was that the American was unhinged.
There were few very interesting things than happened during those few weeks. However, there are one or two that ought to be mentioned. For instance:
Xander smiled slightly as he looked over the course catalogue and tapped his timetable, removing a week worth or Divination and replacing it with a fifth year class.
Now…it must not be said that Professor Snape cried like a baby that week when he looked down at his class lists and realized that Harris’ name had suddenly appeared on yet a third class roster.
“Mr. Harris.” Severus sneered at the American as he walked into the classroom, his typical five minutes early, “What an unwelcome surprise. I assume you are here to show the fifth years your spectacular ability to spill cauldron and ruin potions? Truly, you will be a match even for Neville Longbottom.”
Xander sneered back at him. There were times when he couldn’t stand the man….
The thundering (which, when they hit the lab door turned to tiptoes) of the Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years interrupted Xander’s train of thought. They filed into the room and took their seats.
Xander smirked slightly as he watched Malfoy and Potter shoot death glares at each other. This could be interesting… He had no real love for either boy and watching them get on each others nerves was amusing! Particularly when Professor Snape announced pairing for the afternoon class and Xander found himself seated beside the Vamp-wannabe Slytherin.
“So…Mr. Malfoy. What a pleasure to see you again.” Xander smirked as he began slicing roots.
Draco Malfoy was less than pleased for his favourite class to be ruined by one of his least favourite people. Even being seated next to Golden-Boy Potter would’ve been better - at least The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Have-His-Buttons-Pushed could be annoyed - nothing seemed to bother Harris. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
A snide voice cut into Xander’s concentration as he ground his beetles into a powder.
“So....Harris, if you’re a graduate student, why on earth would you be enjoying class with a group of fifth years?” Xander could practically hear the boy’s smirk.
“Because, I’m a bit of an idiot when it comes to levitation potions.” Xander smiled serenely at the boy who tried to pretend that he’d know that that was what they were making.
Truth be told, Draco was more interested in annoying Xander than in making their potion and hadn’t managed to do anything right so far. It was suddenly obvious to him that his potion was going to end up completely wrong if he didn’t start concentrating.
Xander smiled as he stirred the potion just right, letting enough energy flow into it to give it a little bit of a kick (enough to allow for better control of movement when the subject is floating) and to help repair the damage Draco had been reeking upon it.
“What about you, Draco...”
The boy sneered at being called by his first name, “What about me?”
“You bribed ol’ Snape so that you could get partnered with me, didn’t you?” Flirting always worked...especially when the subject was either straight or in denial.
“I what?!” Several nearby people looked at Draco Malfoy, surprised at his sudden outburst. “I did nothing of the sort. I’d rather be partnered with Wonder-Boy Potter than with you, Harris.”
Malfoy had just thrown the powdered beetles in, two ingredients too early and began stirring when the potion obviously needed to simmer.
“Malfoy, if you don’t start paying attention, you’re going to ruin this potion...not that you haven’t already.” Xander sighed, cast an anti-burning charm on his hands and placed them firmly on either side of his cauldron, “Do exactly as I tell you, or you’ll fail the damn potion.”
Malfoy was stunned. He really had just ruined it, hadn’t he? If he’d reached one ingredient farther and added the Crescent Mushrooms the thing would’ve very well exploded. He was getting as bad as Longbottom.
Xander shut his eyes, making sure his hands weren’t going to glow while he concentrated and hoping that Snape wouldn’t look their way. Luckily, Neville’s potion, which was supposed to be Robin’s Egg Blue, was sadly turning magenta and Snape was chewing him out, big time.
“Alright Malfoy. I want you to catch the droplets in a vial.” Xander concentrated and Malfoy was rather shocked as, one by one, several droplets of potion raised out of the cauldron and hung a few inches in the air, “Catch them, you idiot!”
Draco did so, collecting them and corking the vial, “What the hell was that?”
Xander, now rather drained, sat back, “Those were you’re moronic beetles.”
Draco nodded and the rest of the class passed in silence, the beetle/potion vial being added when it was supposed to and allowing the boys to receive a passing mark,
“Amazing, Harris.” Snape murmured softly, “You managed not to ruin Draco’s potion. 10 points to Slytherin for concentration under stress.” And he swished off.
Xander griped slightly, but gathered his things (and a vial of the potion) and left the room. He didn’t see as Draco, covertly, followed in his wake.
He walked down the corridors towards Spike and Dru’s dungeon suite. It was sumptuously decorated with red velvet hanging on the walls and a several sketches that Spike was working on.
“Lovely of you to come down and see us, Whelp. Who’s your friend?”
While Xander had not noticed Draco’s company, it wasn’t beyond Spike’s elevated hearing to hear two heartbeats instead of one now in their suite.
The boy walked silently out of the shadows, “How did he know I was there?”
Xander smirked, “He could smell you, among other things. William, Drusilla, this is Draco Malfoy.”
Spike vamped out, “Bringing us snacks now, are you Xan?” He stalked towards the boy, really more to get a rise out of him than to frighten him.
Dru reached out and placed a hand on Spike’s arm stopping him, “Not this one, my pet. This one dream, this one is family…” She threw her arms around Spike and he picked her up, twirling her around.
Xander smiled at his family and then looked down at Draco, “She’s a little mad, if you know what I mean.”
Draco watched the pair, fascinated by them, “She’s beautiful.”
“And deadly. You wouldn’t wanna lay a hand on her - Spike might bite it off.”
Draco smiled at Xander. He, in turn, realized that seeing the boy down here in the dungeon suite was, suddenly, not going to be a rarity.
“All right, Hagrid.” Charlie laughed softly, “Just take good care of her.”
With that, the redhead closed the cabin door and walked up towards the castle. His thoughts circled around work as he entered the Great Hall, thinking that it was nice to get away from the nesting mothers for a while. They had this disconcerting habit of
looking at you as if you were their next meal.
Yeah, at least I don’t have to worry about that here. Charlie’s eyes swept across the hall and realized that maybe he did have to worry about that here as several, hungry, seventh year girls eyed the older wizard.
“Holy Sh-!” A hand clapped down on Charlie’s shoulder and he jumped, just in time remembering that there were children in the hall and it would probably be better if he didn’t scream obscenities at the idiot who had just scared him.
“It’s tough being pretty, innit, Charlie?” Ron’s grinning face met his brother’s.
Charlies smirked, “You know, Ron, I don’t really think you can complain.”
“Nice to see you made it on time. We were expecting you for breakfast and it’s now lunch. What took so long?” Ron was slowly steering his brother towards the Gryffindor table.
“Oh, I was down seeing Hagrid.” Charlie’s voice seemed somewhat more distant. He had spied the new table in the Great Hall. The one with only about a dozen students seated around it, “Eh, Ron!” Charlie looked around frantically for his baby brother and realized that he was still standing beside him, “Who’re they?” He nodded towards the small table.
“Them?” Ron looked in the indicated direction, “Oh, those are the Grad students for Hogwarts. This is the first year that the school has taken on students who are above seventh year.”
Charlie sat on the bench with the other students, picking at his lunch in a half-aware manner, and listening to Hermione tell him about the Grad students.
“You see,” She had begun, “it’s just that the Ministry is trying to expand magical cooperation and knowledge. They got together with a lot of the other ministries in various countries where there are magical schools and made an international decree allowing wizards to study beyond seventh year in specified subjects. However, this decree stated that no witch or wizard was allowed to take their graduate degree in the school where they were taught as a child. Basically, that were I to go for a graduate degree, I would not be allowed to enroll at Hogwarts.” Hermione beamed at everyone. She really was a fount of information, useless and otherwise.
Charlie had sat in rapt attention as the girl rattled off a rather text-book description of who the students were and where they came from. Charlie was pretty sure that the girl had memorized the new educational decree, “So, you’re telling me, that all of those students are international?”
Hermione nodded, “Yes. And Dumbledore wants to use them as a way of displaying cooperation while in school so none of them were ever sorted.”
“Ron,” he looked for his brother who, amazingly enough, was still sitting beside him, “d’ya think you could introduce me?”
Ron rolled his eyes but acquiesced.
The two Weasleys got up and walked towards the students, “Oy!” Ron attempted to get their attention. Since there were only about a dozen, it wasn’t too difficult, “This ‘ere’s my brother, Charlie Weasley. He wanted to meet you.” He then turned and walked back to the Gryffindor table to talk with Harry and Hermione.
Names were fired at Charlie like bullets from a machine gun (an interesting analogy because, while Charlie had heard it before, he really had no idea what a machine gun was). He knew he would never remember any of them and, just when he was about to turn and follow Ron back to the Gryffindor table, he found a hand in front of him with a handsome, dark haired young man attached to it.
“Alexander Harris.” The man grinned at Charlie and made room for him on the bench, “I know you and yours by reputation.” To anyone else it would have sounded like a compliment or, at the very least, nothing more than idle chat.
Charlie’s face, however, held trepidation. See, although Alexander seemed to be smiling, it was common knowledge that the Weasleys were muggle sympathisers. If this Harris had any affiliation to the dark side it was likely that he despised the kind of people the Weasleys were.
Xander realized his mistake and corrected himself almost at once, “No!” He chuckled, “Good reputation only.”
Charlie relaxed and the two fell into easy talk for about three-quarters of an hour. They discussed family (Xander more on the side of sitting there and going “Mhmm” and “Wow that sounds neat!” not so much with the giving of details), jobs (or the prospect thereof), and magical beasts. Because Xander had lived on the Hellmouth, he had come into contact (usually the axe-to-beast kind of contact) with animals and demons that Charlie had never even seen.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Charlie was stunned, “You mean to tell me that you’ve actually seen a mama bezoar?!”
Xander laughed loudly, “Seen? Damn, Weasley, I was part of the team that helped kill her! Happily, though, I wasn’t the one who dived inside her.” Charlie winced. Xander chuckled.
“Well,” Xander stood and gathered his things, “I’m off. I’ve got charms to attend and a mountain of homework to see to. See ya ‘round, Weasley.”
The next week went idly by for Xander. He got up, he ate, studied, messed around, and slept. For Charlie, however, things were a little more interesting.
“Come on, Bill! How long’s it been since you’ve made a visit to Hogwarts? I know Ron would like to see you.” He had been wheedling for almost a week. For some reason, he’d managed to find more and more time to visit both his home and older brother, who really wished he wouldn’t.
“Charlie!” Bill had had enough. “It’s not that I don’t want to see Ron, it’s that I know what’s going on! You’re trying to set me up…AGAIN!” He shook his head in disgust, “Anyway, what kind of perv do you think I am? You wanna set me up with some Hogwarts school-brat? Why?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. He would really rather not tell Bill who it was he wanted him to meet. Things would go much more smoothly if he said less, “Listen. I don’t care if you fall madly in love. Just…just go to the school sometime before Christmas?”
Bill sighed, “Will you leave me alone if I do?”
Charlie nodded.
“Fine. Done. I’ll find some time off…sometime. It just can’t be soon because unlike you I actually seem to have work to do.”
Charlie disapparated, smiling. He knew Bill wasn’t really going to visit the school. Oh well, if he couldn’t get Bill to Xander, he’d have to get Xander to Bill.
POP!
Charlie apparated in the middle of the kitchen, “You look lovely, mum.”
“Thank you, Charlie, what do you want?”
Charlie attempted to look aghast, but couldn’t manage to pull it off, “I know it’s a little early and all, but would it be alright if I invite a friend or two for Christmas this year?”
His mother shrugged, “As long as they don’t mind sharing rooms, of course! Ron’s inviting Harry Potter for part of the holiday. The more the merrier!”
Charlie smiled and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, mum! I’ve gotta go now…”
POP
Xander spent the next couple of days, when he wasn’t in class, fussing over something in the Grad Tower. Every Grad had taken the first day and magicked a copy of their country’s flag onto their door. It made them feel a little more at home, even if they were only flying a Union Jack.
A young woman, Jana, was the only who knew what he was doing. She reminded him of Buffy. She was short, a little dippy, but always had a good come-back. They sat together in whatever class they managed to have together - usually potions. The two made Snape’s life miserable.
Xander had made her his private trouble-maker in potions class. He pretended to be infatuated with her because it would mean that he wouldn’t have the sixth and seventh year girls after him (as had become typical with the Grad students). Everyone wanted to date a Grad student and Xander wanted none of it. Jana agreed and the two formed a silent truce to keep the other out of trouble and away from voyeuristic lowerclassmen…and ladies.
“Jana, can you help me with something?” Xander wasn’t really even looking at her - but he always knew when she was behind him. She was better in Ancient Runes than him (it was her concentration) and he needed that knowledge.
“Yes, Xander.” She smiled.
He lead her to his room and pulled out his potions ingredients, “I still can’t seem to make it stabilize enough.” He indicated the potion the two had been working on for at least two weeks.
Jana looked contemplative, “Explain to me again what it must do.”
Xander nodded and told her about the potion he had made in Sunnydale, giving her a list of the ingredients used, “I want to close the Hellmouth…stabilize it, permanently. Giles told me if I could figure it out, he’d bring Buffy here to study Defence.”
Jana nodded, “I understand.” She looked at it and began making runic notes on a spare piece of parchment, “But, you see, if you did it like this…” she indicated the runes, “It might work better. To stabilize something so large, so powerful and full of dark magics…” She continued to scribble and Xander watched, taking notes of his own. The two worked late into the night.
The next day was no easier. He felt that they had made real progress on the potion, although nothing so far had been brewed. For once Xander did not even attempt his typical antics in potions. Instead, he brewed correctly, although it turned out to be a little weak from lack of concentration, and left.
A very confused Snape remained behind him, examining the potion and watching Xander leave. What the hell was going on?
OOOF! Two figures went sprawling on the stone floor halfway between potions and the Great Hall.
“Watch it, Harris.” A snide and cold voice filtered into Xander’s clouded brain, pushing away thoughts of Hellmouths and potions.
Although they weren’t on friendly terms, Draco had come to have a certain measure of respect for Xander Harris. He’s been spending a lot of time in the dungeons with Spike and Dru and had learned a lot about him.
“Is there something you wanted, Malfoy?”
“Is it true?”
Xander raised an eyebrow and, taking a shot in the dark, “Yeah…sure.”
“You’re related to my father?”
Xander choked. How the fuck did he know that? “Yeah. Sure. Except that I have no idea who your father is.”
Malfoy smiled, “We have some talking to do, Harris.”
“Yes.” Xander turned, opened an empty classroom and walked in. When he realized Malfoy wasn’t following he reached out a hand and magically grasped his throat, ala Darth Vader, pulling him into a room which was instantly locked down and sealed from prying ears. “What. Do. You. Know…and how?” He released the boy.
“I know who your father is.”
Xander blanched, “How?”
“Spike told me.”
“You can’t tell anyone!”
“I know. Spike’d kill me.” The boy drew himself up to his full height, “I am charged with making sure He doesn’t find out.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Alright, fine. I was charged with telling you not to let him know, not yet. Angelus told Spike, Spike told…you get the idea. Don’t let him know.”
“Don’t let who know?”
The blonde paled slightly.
Xander smiled triumphantly, “You don’t actually know, do you? You were given a line, knowing it would get my attention. I’m gonna kill that blood-sucking sonovabitch.”
Malfoy nodded dejectedly, “No, I don’t actually know. Was hoping you’d say-”
“No. Get out.” The door swung open and Draco ran - only more gracefully - he was a Malfoy after all.
This would be fine for now. He had no intention of telling anyway. Oh ho ho - but the greasy-haired git better wait until Halloween. That’s when things were really going to heat up in the castle.
In the mean time, he had a dark haired vampire to see to.
Continue to Chapter 3: Halloween
Well…that’s over, finally. Xander flopped into his bed and looked around the room. Finally, he had somewhere quiet and all his own where he could just relax without worrying about the health dangers that might come from the unexpected awakening of an intoxicated elder.
He got up, undressed, and slid into bed between pre-warmed, silk sheets. The four-poster had originally come with white cotton, but the silk had been a present from Angelus just before he left for school. Xander closed his eyes and imagined each of his friends in his mind’s eye, wishing them well before he drifted to sleep.
The next morning dawned bright and early. Xander stumbled out of bed, dressed, brushed his teeth and wandered down to the Great Hall. He woke up considerably as many of the portraits wished him good morning. It perked up his spirits to know that they remembered him.
At breakfast, Xander sat and ate with the other graduate students. Occasionally he would get up and meander to one of the house tables and sit with them for five or ten minutes, talking about the professors and what he would expect in their classes. He also received his timesheet and an explanation note attached to it.
The note read:
Dear Mr. Harris,
This timetable, as you have undoubtedly observed, is created so that with a tap of your wand you may alter your course schedule. As a graduate student, you have obviously not been sorted, allowing you to take classes with any house you wish. Each weekend you will be able to adjust your classes. This will allow you to get to know members from each of the different houses. We do not demand that you pick any specific schedule absolutely. In fact, you are encouraged to change your classes each week for the entire year. Like to keep the other Professors on their toes!
We hope you will enjoy your time studying here at Hogwarts,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
Xander was elated. He looked at the timesheet, taking a once over of all his different classes and possible classes. Dumbledore knew that he had a wish to study most extensively in Potions, thus he was set to take twice as many as any of the other students. He would attend all the 6th and 7th year Potions classes. The first one would be in 15 minutes.
Xander had no real love of acting, having done it his entire life in Sunnydale. He considered it drawn-out-lies and didn’t like to give way to such subterfuge, if he could avoid it. Living in the castle, being Harris and not Snape, annoying the crap out of his birth-father, now THAT kind of acting was going to be fun!
Xander had decided to make it his habit to be early for each of his first classes, in order to get to know the Prof. a little before the rest of the students thundered in. Therefore, before anyone else had finished breakfast, Xander Harris was already trailing his fingers along the wall, letting the castle lead him to the dungeon classroom.
Snape was not one to suffer fools lightly, “What are you doing here?” He sneered menacingly at the American graduate.
“Sitting?” Xander looked around the lab, then down at his stool, then up at the professor, “Yeah, definitely sitting.” He grinned. It helped nothing.
Snape, of course, knew all about Xander’s desire to study extra potions, having been owled that morning with class lists for all the classes for the term. He was rather appalled to find Harris’ name on at least two of them. He also knew that nearly anything the boy knew about the delicate art had been self-taught. This would be a hellish year.
If the American could only be scared off. Yes…scare off the American and I would no longer need to instruct him. Snape’s lips curled into an ominous smile, “So, you wish to learn potions.”
Xander affected a shocked look, not something that Snape was used to seeing when he became creepy, and swirled around the classroom, looking at everything as if seeing it for the first time, “Holy Cow! Is this a potions lab?! Silly me, I was looking for the local magical beauty school.” Smirk.
Sigh. “You’re wasting my time, Mr. Harris.” Snape returned to looking over his teaching notes.
Five minutes passed in silence (or it would have been silence if Xander hadn’t been tapping his pencil idly on the tabletop, thus driving Snape mad). Students began to file nervously into the classroom. This was when Xander realized that this was the first Post-O.W.L. class for these students with Professor Snape. This was the N.E.W.T. class. Evil chuckle.
An eyebrow quirked from the front of the class as the students filed in, casting wary glances at the stranger. The class was so small that it included students from every house. Xander settled in and prepared to be the best he knew how to be. Bring on the fun.
Snape prowled the front of the class, eyeing the students who, for the most part, attempted not to shrink in their seats at least a little.
“Let’s brush up on some basics.” Oh, this was the best. Intimidation with the same old students. He hadn’t used this question in the last few years and few knew the answer, “Mr. Harris. Can you tell me where you would locate a bezoar?”
Xander caught himself, forcing himself not to laugh, “Well…lemme think now. Bezoar, bezoar…there was one in the Sunnyhell High basement…wait, no, we hacked that one up.” Xander pretended to think some more, “A bezoar that hasn’t already tasted axe…I’m sorry Professor,” He looked up, unwincingly meeting Snape’s steely gaze, “I have no idea. We made mincemeat outta the last one.” Cocky grin.
Scowl. “Thank you, Mr. Harris. I’m sure the entire class enjoyed that idiotic display.” Snape’s eyes swept across the room just to make sure they hadn’t. He ascertained they he was still feared, if not completely respected for allowing it to happen.
Class passed merrily enough for Xander. He could practically hear Snape grinding his teeth for the hour that he spent in the dungeon. He spilled his cauldron, added the wrong ingredients, incorrectly timed his waiting period, and stirred counter-clockwise instead of clockwise. Snape was going crazy. You could practically hear his sigh of relief as the American walked out of the room, chatting merrily with a fellow student.
Classes went well for the rest of the day, as well. Xander saw Hagrid again at a Care of Magical Creatures lesson and met Professor Sprout during Herbology. For the first month at Hogwarts Xander would be trying out all the different classes, some at several different years, just to see what he liked and where he fit in. He had noticed that the specific classes he had requested were all over the place as far as what year he would be taking them with.
Class Schedule: Xander Harris
Arithmancy: Third Year
Care of Magical Creatures: Fourth Year
Charms: Sixth Year
Divination: Fourth Year
Potions: Sixth and Seventh Year
Transfiguration: Fifth Year
He was also free to sit in on any classes he wish, so long as they didn’t interfere with his regularly scheduled class schedule, which was why he was at Herbology. He had nothing going on for an hour and found himself wandering out towards the greenhouses where Professor Sprout had invited him to sit in on her lesson.
As night approached, Xander found himself more than happy to just stumble into bed and sleep for days. Although he had enjoyed his first day of classes in the castle, he was more than slightly exhausted. He wasn’t used to being around so many people at once. Be safe, Will, Dru. I’m going to need you guys when you get here. You were right, this whole people thing is tiring.
And, with that “prayer” out of the way, Xander Harris conked out, still fully dressed, sans robes.
By lunchtime on Wednesday, Xander was slowly getting used to being around so many people. At least he wasn’t having the problems that the other Grads and First Years were encountering, getting lost. Somehow the castle seemed more than happy to lead him wherever he wanted to go and, for this, he was truly thankful.
It was just after lunch on Wednesday afternoon and Xander found himself staring up at a trapdoor. “Ehm…Professor Trelawney?” He had yet to meet the woman (or even see her) and was…skeptical about this whole Divination thing. Giles, however, had been adamant that he learn at least a little about the art. “Professor?” He raised his voice.
He could hear voices from overhead. Two voices. Both decidedly female. They sounded like they were gossiping. Then it stopped.
A ladder dropped in front of him and he found himself watching the bottom rung come down. This would perhaps explain the reason that he completely missed the squealing brunette who launched herself down at him, “OH MY GOD!! XANDER HARRIS!” More squealing.
Somehow, in a way that magic would never be able to explain, Xander not only caught the brunette, but he also managed not to fall over and split his skull open on the stone steps behind him.
He righted himself, looked at the brunette and began to squeal too (although he would never admit to doing something so unmanly, particularly if Spike were around) “CORDY!!”
Hug. Squeal. Hug. A little bit of jumping up and down. Then they both climbed up to the tower classroom so that Xander could meet Trelawney.
After being poured a cup of tea in a pretty blue willow teacup, and being introduced to the infamous Divination’s Professor, Xander turned to Cordy, “So…why are you here? Last thing I’d heard was that you were studying in L.A.”
Cordy grinned. She had been studying in L.A. at another hybrid magic-highschool. Her parents had moved so that she could attend The Academy. It was nicer than Sunnydale High and could actually afford to hire enough teachers for every subject. Cordy, however, had not been attending for magical purposes because she had been thought to be a muggle. That was before Doyle.
“You see,” she said, “Doyle liked to wander around the school. He was a demon but you couldn’t tell it by looking at him. She had a direct line-of-sight to the PTB.” At Xander’s confusion she elaborated, “The Powers That Be. He thought that I had seer potential and so he introduced me in his class. Everyone else was told that I was doing Advanced Physics.” She grinned.
Xander laughed - Cordy hated physics.
“Anyway, that was about two years before the attack on The Academy. A bunch of rowdy demon-haters raided the school and killed Doyle after one of his classes. I was there when it happened and the PTB latched onto me as the nearest, trustworthy person. Now, to make a long story short-“
“Too late.”
Cordy glared, evil glare number 6. Meaning shut up and sit down her royal highness Queen C is speaking.
“They transferred Doyle’s visions to me. So now I actually am a seer and I’ve been studying it for about two years.”
Trelawney smiled serenely, as if tales of dead demons and the PTB were everyday common. But it didn’t last long because another tap came at the trapdoor. The rest of the class had arrived.
“Class!” Trelawney said in a soft, misty voice.
Cordy leaned over to Xander, “She loves doing that. The voice thing - she thinks it makes her sound more like the T.V. fortune-tellers. You know,” Cordy closed her eyes and imitated, “I see mist…wait. No, there’s something coming forwards, who here has relation to a short mulberry bush? Mrs. Patterson! I thought so. Your dead husband…he wants it gone. I see it withering away…” She opened her eyes and grinned.
Trelawney sent Cordelia a scowl, “As I was saying. This is Ms. Chase. She is my new assistant and will be helping with classes for the year.”
This was met with looks of interest and trepidation.
Xander spent a pleasant hour in the tower - chuckling with Cordelia as Trelawney made reference after reference for her own amusement - amusement that went over the heads of the rest of the class.
Cordy, however, didn’t spend the entire time sitting around. She got up and helped students with tea leaves, crystal balls, and star charts as they were doing some basic review.
“All right, class.” She said as people started gathering their things, “Remember to read chapter 11 on Palmistry for the next class. Dismissed.”
Xander looked around as the students filed out…“Umm, I’m confused?”
Cordy sniggered, “That’s nothing new, is it? Come on, Xand. Show me where you’re staying and on the way I’ll fill you in.”
As they walked, Cordy explained to Xander that any real students who had sight potential were given private lessons with Trelawney. The larger lessons were just a way for her to pass the time. There was little chance that any of those students would develop any amount of sight over the years that they were with her. She just used them to weed out the real seers from the “riff-raff.”
The next week, and the one after that, passed in quiet. There was little to do besides trying not to get lost in a castle that was hell-bent on sending you into the dungeons every third day. Xander had been seen to yell at the walls, telling them things like “No! Not Potions, Arithmancy!” and “I just came from the dungeons! I was trying to get to dinner!” The local consensus was that the American was unhinged.
There were few very interesting things than happened during those few weeks. However, there are one or two that ought to be mentioned. For instance:
Xander smiled slightly as he looked over the course catalogue and tapped his timetable, removing a week worth or Divination and replacing it with a fifth year class.
Now…it must not be said that Professor Snape cried like a baby that week when he looked down at his class lists and realized that Harris’ name had suddenly appeared on yet a third class roster.
“Mr. Harris.” Severus sneered at the American as he walked into the classroom, his typical five minutes early, “What an unwelcome surprise. I assume you are here to show the fifth years your spectacular ability to spill cauldron and ruin potions? Truly, you will be a match even for Neville Longbottom.”
Xander sneered back at him. There were times when he couldn’t stand the man….
The thundering (which, when they hit the lab door turned to tiptoes) of the Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years interrupted Xander’s train of thought. They filed into the room and took their seats.
Xander smirked slightly as he watched Malfoy and Potter shoot death glares at each other. This could be interesting… He had no real love for either boy and watching them get on each others nerves was amusing! Particularly when Professor Snape announced pairing for the afternoon class and Xander found himself seated beside the Vamp-wannabe Slytherin.
“So…Mr. Malfoy. What a pleasure to see you again.” Xander smirked as he began slicing roots.
Draco Malfoy was less than pleased for his favourite class to be ruined by one of his least favourite people. Even being seated next to Golden-Boy Potter would’ve been better - at least The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Have-His-Buttons-Pushed could be annoyed - nothing seemed to bother Harris. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
A snide voice cut into Xander’s concentration as he ground his beetles into a powder.
“So....Harris, if you’re a graduate student, why on earth would you be enjoying class with a group of fifth years?” Xander could practically hear the boy’s smirk.
“Because, I’m a bit of an idiot when it comes to levitation potions.” Xander smiled serenely at the boy who tried to pretend that he’d know that that was what they were making.
Truth be told, Draco was more interested in annoying Xander than in making their potion and hadn’t managed to do anything right so far. It was suddenly obvious to him that his potion was going to end up completely wrong if he didn’t start concentrating.
Xander smiled as he stirred the potion just right, letting enough energy flow into it to give it a little bit of a kick (enough to allow for better control of movement when the subject is floating) and to help repair the damage Draco had been reeking upon it.
“What about you, Draco...”
The boy sneered at being called by his first name, “What about me?”
“You bribed ol’ Snape so that you could get partnered with me, didn’t you?” Flirting always worked...especially when the subject was either straight or in denial.
“I what?!” Several nearby people looked at Draco Malfoy, surprised at his sudden outburst. “I did nothing of the sort. I’d rather be partnered with Wonder-Boy Potter than with you, Harris.”
Malfoy had just thrown the powdered beetles in, two ingredients too early and began stirring when the potion obviously needed to simmer.
“Malfoy, if you don’t start paying attention, you’re going to ruin this potion...not that you haven’t already.” Xander sighed, cast an anti-burning charm on his hands and placed them firmly on either side of his cauldron, “Do exactly as I tell you, or you’ll fail the damn potion.”
Malfoy was stunned. He really had just ruined it, hadn’t he? If he’d reached one ingredient farther and added the Crescent Mushrooms the thing would’ve very well exploded. He was getting as bad as Longbottom.
Xander shut his eyes, making sure his hands weren’t going to glow while he concentrated and hoping that Snape wouldn’t look their way. Luckily, Neville’s potion, which was supposed to be Robin’s Egg Blue, was sadly turning magenta and Snape was chewing him out, big time.
“Alright Malfoy. I want you to catch the droplets in a vial.” Xander concentrated and Malfoy was rather shocked as, one by one, several droplets of potion raised out of the cauldron and hung a few inches in the air, “Catch them, you idiot!”
Draco did so, collecting them and corking the vial, “What the hell was that?”
Xander, now rather drained, sat back, “Those were you’re moronic beetles.”
Draco nodded and the rest of the class passed in silence, the beetle/potion vial being added when it was supposed to and allowing the boys to receive a passing mark,
“Amazing, Harris.” Snape murmured softly, “You managed not to ruin Draco’s potion. 10 points to Slytherin for concentration under stress.” And he swished off.
Xander griped slightly, but gathered his things (and a vial of the potion) and left the room. He didn’t see as Draco, covertly, followed in his wake.
He walked down the corridors towards Spike and Dru’s dungeon suite. It was sumptuously decorated with red velvet hanging on the walls and a several sketches that Spike was working on.
“Lovely of you to come down and see us, Whelp. Who’s your friend?”
While Xander had not noticed Draco’s company, it wasn’t beyond Spike’s elevated hearing to hear two heartbeats instead of one now in their suite.
The boy walked silently out of the shadows, “How did he know I was there?”
Xander smirked, “He could smell you, among other things. William, Drusilla, this is Draco Malfoy.”
Spike vamped out, “Bringing us snacks now, are you Xan?” He stalked towards the boy, really more to get a rise out of him than to frighten him.
Dru reached out and placed a hand on Spike’s arm stopping him, “Not this one, my pet. This one dream, this one is family…” She threw her arms around Spike and he picked her up, twirling her around.
Xander smiled at his family and then looked down at Draco, “She’s a little mad, if you know what I mean.”
Draco watched the pair, fascinated by them, “She’s beautiful.”
“And deadly. You wouldn’t wanna lay a hand on her - Spike might bite it off.”
Draco smiled at Xander. He, in turn, realized that seeing the boy down here in the dungeon suite was, suddenly, not going to be a rarity.
“All right, Hagrid.” Charlie laughed softly, “Just take good care of her.”
With that, the redhead closed the cabin door and walked up towards the castle. His thoughts circled around work as he entered the Great Hall, thinking that it was nice to get away from the nesting mothers for a while. They had this disconcerting habit of
looking at you as if you were their next meal.
Yeah, at least I don’t have to worry about that here. Charlie’s eyes swept across the hall and realized that maybe he did have to worry about that here as several, hungry, seventh year girls eyed the older wizard.
“Holy Sh-!” A hand clapped down on Charlie’s shoulder and he jumped, just in time remembering that there were children in the hall and it would probably be better if he didn’t scream obscenities at the idiot who had just scared him.
“It’s tough being pretty, innit, Charlie?” Ron’s grinning face met his brother’s.
Charlies smirked, “You know, Ron, I don’t really think you can complain.”
“Nice to see you made it on time. We were expecting you for breakfast and it’s now lunch. What took so long?” Ron was slowly steering his brother towards the Gryffindor table.
“Oh, I was down seeing Hagrid.” Charlie’s voice seemed somewhat more distant. He had spied the new table in the Great Hall. The one with only about a dozen students seated around it, “Eh, Ron!” Charlie looked around frantically for his baby brother and realized that he was still standing beside him, “Who’re they?” He nodded towards the small table.
“Them?” Ron looked in the indicated direction, “Oh, those are the Grad students for Hogwarts. This is the first year that the school has taken on students who are above seventh year.”
Charlie sat on the bench with the other students, picking at his lunch in a half-aware manner, and listening to Hermione tell him about the Grad students.
“You see,” She had begun, “it’s just that the Ministry is trying to expand magical cooperation and knowledge. They got together with a lot of the other ministries in various countries where there are magical schools and made an international decree allowing wizards to study beyond seventh year in specified subjects. However, this decree stated that no witch or wizard was allowed to take their graduate degree in the school where they were taught as a child. Basically, that were I to go for a graduate degree, I would not be allowed to enroll at Hogwarts.” Hermione beamed at everyone. She really was a fount of information, useless and otherwise.
Charlie had sat in rapt attention as the girl rattled off a rather text-book description of who the students were and where they came from. Charlie was pretty sure that the girl had memorized the new educational decree, “So, you’re telling me, that all of those students are international?”
Hermione nodded, “Yes. And Dumbledore wants to use them as a way of displaying cooperation while in school so none of them were ever sorted.”
“Ron,” he looked for his brother who, amazingly enough, was still sitting beside him, “d’ya think you could introduce me?”
Ron rolled his eyes but acquiesced.
The two Weasleys got up and walked towards the students, “Oy!” Ron attempted to get their attention. Since there were only about a dozen, it wasn’t too difficult, “This ‘ere’s my brother, Charlie Weasley. He wanted to meet you.” He then turned and walked back to the Gryffindor table to talk with Harry and Hermione.
Names were fired at Charlie like bullets from a machine gun (an interesting analogy because, while Charlie had heard it before, he really had no idea what a machine gun was). He knew he would never remember any of them and, just when he was about to turn and follow Ron back to the Gryffindor table, he found a hand in front of him with a handsome, dark haired young man attached to it.
“Alexander Harris.” The man grinned at Charlie and made room for him on the bench, “I know you and yours by reputation.” To anyone else it would have sounded like a compliment or, at the very least, nothing more than idle chat.
Charlie’s face, however, held trepidation. See, although Alexander seemed to be smiling, it was common knowledge that the Weasleys were muggle sympathisers. If this Harris had any affiliation to the dark side it was likely that he despised the kind of people the Weasleys were.
Xander realized his mistake and corrected himself almost at once, “No!” He chuckled, “Good reputation only.”
Charlie relaxed and the two fell into easy talk for about three-quarters of an hour. They discussed family (Xander more on the side of sitting there and going “Mhmm” and “Wow that sounds neat!” not so much with the giving of details), jobs (or the prospect thereof), and magical beasts. Because Xander had lived on the Hellmouth, he had come into contact (usually the axe-to-beast kind of contact) with animals and demons that Charlie had never even seen.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Charlie was stunned, “You mean to tell me that you’ve actually seen a mama bezoar?!”
Xander laughed loudly, “Seen? Damn, Weasley, I was part of the team that helped kill her! Happily, though, I wasn’t the one who dived inside her.” Charlie winced. Xander chuckled.
“Well,” Xander stood and gathered his things, “I’m off. I’ve got charms to attend and a mountain of homework to see to. See ya ‘round, Weasley.”
The next week went idly by for Xander. He got up, he ate, studied, messed around, and slept. For Charlie, however, things were a little more interesting.
“Come on, Bill! How long’s it been since you’ve made a visit to Hogwarts? I know Ron would like to see you.” He had been wheedling for almost a week. For some reason, he’d managed to find more and more time to visit both his home and older brother, who really wished he wouldn’t.
“Charlie!” Bill had had enough. “It’s not that I don’t want to see Ron, it’s that I know what’s going on! You’re trying to set me up…AGAIN!” He shook his head in disgust, “Anyway, what kind of perv do you think I am? You wanna set me up with some Hogwarts school-brat? Why?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. He would really rather not tell Bill who it was he wanted him to meet. Things would go much more smoothly if he said less, “Listen. I don’t care if you fall madly in love. Just…just go to the school sometime before Christmas?”
Bill sighed, “Will you leave me alone if I do?”
Charlie nodded.
“Fine. Done. I’ll find some time off…sometime. It just can’t be soon because unlike you I actually seem to have work to do.”
Charlie disapparated, smiling. He knew Bill wasn’t really going to visit the school. Oh well, if he couldn’t get Bill to Xander, he’d have to get Xander to Bill.
POP!
Charlie apparated in the middle of the kitchen, “You look lovely, mum.”
“Thank you, Charlie, what do you want?”
Charlie attempted to look aghast, but couldn’t manage to pull it off, “I know it’s a little early and all, but would it be alright if I invite a friend or two for Christmas this year?”
His mother shrugged, “As long as they don’t mind sharing rooms, of course! Ron’s inviting Harry Potter for part of the holiday. The more the merrier!”
Charlie smiled and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, mum! I’ve gotta go now…”
POP
Xander spent the next couple of days, when he wasn’t in class, fussing over something in the Grad Tower. Every Grad had taken the first day and magicked a copy of their country’s flag onto their door. It made them feel a little more at home, even if they were only flying a Union Jack.
A young woman, Jana, was the only who knew what he was doing. She reminded him of Buffy. She was short, a little dippy, but always had a good come-back. They sat together in whatever class they managed to have together - usually potions. The two made Snape’s life miserable.
Xander had made her his private trouble-maker in potions class. He pretended to be infatuated with her because it would mean that he wouldn’t have the sixth and seventh year girls after him (as had become typical with the Grad students). Everyone wanted to date a Grad student and Xander wanted none of it. Jana agreed and the two formed a silent truce to keep the other out of trouble and away from voyeuristic lowerclassmen…and ladies.
“Jana, can you help me with something?” Xander wasn’t really even looking at her - but he always knew when she was behind him. She was better in Ancient Runes than him (it was her concentration) and he needed that knowledge.
“Yes, Xander.” She smiled.
He lead her to his room and pulled out his potions ingredients, “I still can’t seem to make it stabilize enough.” He indicated the potion the two had been working on for at least two weeks.
Jana looked contemplative, “Explain to me again what it must do.”
Xander nodded and told her about the potion he had made in Sunnydale, giving her a list of the ingredients used, “I want to close the Hellmouth…stabilize it, permanently. Giles told me if I could figure it out, he’d bring Buffy here to study Defence.”
Jana nodded, “I understand.” She looked at it and began making runic notes on a spare piece of parchment, “But, you see, if you did it like this…” she indicated the runes, “It might work better. To stabilize something so large, so powerful and full of dark magics…” She continued to scribble and Xander watched, taking notes of his own. The two worked late into the night.
The next day was no easier. He felt that they had made real progress on the potion, although nothing so far had been brewed. For once Xander did not even attempt his typical antics in potions. Instead, he brewed correctly, although it turned out to be a little weak from lack of concentration, and left.
A very confused Snape remained behind him, examining the potion and watching Xander leave. What the hell was going on?
OOOF! Two figures went sprawling on the stone floor halfway between potions and the Great Hall.
“Watch it, Harris.” A snide and cold voice filtered into Xander’s clouded brain, pushing away thoughts of Hellmouths and potions.
Although they weren’t on friendly terms, Draco had come to have a certain measure of respect for Xander Harris. He’s been spending a lot of time in the dungeons with Spike and Dru and had learned a lot about him.
“Is there something you wanted, Malfoy?”
“Is it true?”
Xander raised an eyebrow and, taking a shot in the dark, “Yeah…sure.”
“You’re related to my father?”
Xander choked. How the fuck did he know that? “Yeah. Sure. Except that I have no idea who your father is.”
Malfoy smiled, “We have some talking to do, Harris.”
“Yes.” Xander turned, opened an empty classroom and walked in. When he realized Malfoy wasn’t following he reached out a hand and magically grasped his throat, ala Darth Vader, pulling him into a room which was instantly locked down and sealed from prying ears. “What. Do. You. Know…and how?” He released the boy.
“I know who your father is.”
Xander blanched, “How?”
“Spike told me.”
“You can’t tell anyone!”
“I know. Spike’d kill me.” The boy drew himself up to his full height, “I am charged with making sure He doesn’t find out.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Alright, fine. I was charged with telling you not to let him know, not yet. Angelus told Spike, Spike told…you get the idea. Don’t let him know.”
“Don’t let who know?”
The blonde paled slightly.
Xander smiled triumphantly, “You don’t actually know, do you? You were given a line, knowing it would get my attention. I’m gonna kill that blood-sucking sonovabitch.”
Malfoy nodded dejectedly, “No, I don’t actually know. Was hoping you’d say-”
“No. Get out.” The door swung open and Draco ran - only more gracefully - he was a Malfoy after all.
This would be fine for now. He had no intention of telling anyway. Oh ho ho - but the greasy-haired git better wait until Halloween. That’s when things were really going to heat up in the castle.
In the mean time, he had a dark haired vampire to see to.
Continue to Chapter 3: Halloween