(no subject)
Title: All Joking Aside
Author: Grundy
Fandom: BTVS/HP
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1000
Summary: George has been wondering about one of his customers.
Note: Day 24.
Disclaimer: Not mine. BtVS belongs to Whedon. HP belongs to J.K. Rowling.
George Weasley had been wondering about the one-eyed American for a while. The man had been coming in fairly regularly for about four months now.
The first time, George had decided he was a Muggle with magic relatives. You could tell just looking that the bloke wasn’t a wizard, and there was no other way to explain a muggle getting so deep into Diagon Alley. But on his second or third visit- Ron swore blind he’d been in on a rainy afternoon when George had pulled a duvet day- the man asked some technical questions about the spell work involved in the portable swamp kit. That made him wonder if he’d misjudged.
After that, George had just observed. He never saw a wand- not that most of his wizard customers ever drew theirs in the shop either. But he also never saw any of the usual subtle signs of belonging to the British wizarding community like Quidditch scarves, Hogwarts colors, or a copy of the Daily Prophet or the Quibbler.
Yet the man apparently lived in London and was well aware of magic and magical creatures. He knew that because Hermione had been in the shop one day, and amazingly, the mystery non-muggle had managed to keep up with her during a conversation heavy on technical details of some advanced arithmancy work she was currently involved in. Then the man had asked if Hermione could point him in the direction of someone who was an expert on the native magical beasts of Borneo.
And here he was again, on his weekly shopping run, stocking up on the usual joke implements along with the occasional more serious products from the back room. George all but ordered Ron to go check the stock, using Hogwarts book lists going out that week as a pretext. They’d need the shop in order as the school shoppers descended. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had become a must on the Diagon Alley route of most underage witches and wizards, ranking along with Fortescue’s and Quality Quidditch.
“Sorry about the wait, Mr…”
“Harris,” the man replied lightly. “But please, call me Xander. When people my own age say Mr. Harris, I start looking around for my father.”
“Xander, then,” George replied. “George Weasley. Though I might as well introduce myself. I know Ron knows you on sight, says you’re becoming quite the regular.”
“Yeah, I work in London, so it’s easy to drop in on my lunch or just nip out if we hit a dead time. I wish we’d had a shop like this when I was still in school.”
“If I only had a sickle for everytime someone said that,” George sighed. “Zonko’s wasn’t bad, of course, but I like to think we’ve taken it to a higher level.”
“I wasn’t around while Zonko’s was still in business,” Xander said ruefully, “But from what I hear, you set the bar pretty high.”
“Ron been telling stories again, has he?”
“No, usually when I hear stories, it’s from Luna or Hermione,” Xander replied.
“Luna… wait, are you the American she’s been hanging about with that has the Ministry so bothered?”
“The Ministry is bothered?” Xander asked, surprised. He really hadn’t thought they were the types to be subtle about being bothered. “Although truthfully, she met Willow first, and I guess she introduced her to Hermione, and ever since it’s been all sorts of theory of magic debates I just smile, nod, and fetch the donuts for. But I found this place when Willow asked me to do a potions ingredient run for her a couple months ago, so I’d say that’s a solid benefit.”
George whistled. The Ministry were bothered because Luna’s American friend was a wandless witch- causing some who held outdated views to protest that she shouldn’t be allowed to mix with wizarding society- and had connections to some sort of non-wizarding organization that neither the Ministry nor the Order of the Phoenix had been inclined to trust in the past. He wondered whether Xander was also part of whatever organization it was. Percy and Dad had both been bloody tight-lipped about it, probably worried that someone would let things slip to Luna.
“So are you actually a wizard then?”
Xander shook his head.
“No real magic ability to speak of, unless you count being something of a demon magnet. Now that we’re not all living on a Hellmouth, I can manage some simple spells, but nothing like what Willow can do. Only area I’m really decent at is seeing through spells that try to fool you.”
“That’s still fairly useful,” George mused. “Would have thought it was harder with only the one eye.”
Seeing the shadow that crossed Xander’s face, only to be replaced by a determinedly cheerful grin, George groaned.
“Sorry, I’ve stuck my foot in it. Mum would let me have it for that.”
“Nah, it’s ok,” Xander said, trying to shrug it off. “We’ve all got our ghosts.”
It was George’s turn to plaster a smile on his face he wasn’t really feeling, which didn’t entirely fool the other man.
“Yeah,” he said, trying not to think on Fred. “I suppose we have.”
Glancing around the shop, which was mostly empty, he came to a decision.
“Look, would you mind grabbing a drink with me? Ron’s too polite to ask, but I know I’ve got some questions for you. Luna doesn’t have much in the way of family to look out for her, and we’ve all been…concerned.”
Xander looked alarmed.
“Sure,” he replied. “Anything to put everyone’s mind at ease.”
George smiled.
“Let me just let Ron know we’re going, then.”
Now maybe he could finally get some answers. And possibly a partner in ‘crime’- Ron was all right around the shop, but he was nowhere near the innovator Fred had been. Xander might not be a born wizard, but he seemed to have a fine eye for practical joking. With any luck, he’d be up for field testing some of the new prototypes…
Author: Grundy
Fandom: BTVS/HP
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1000
Summary: George has been wondering about one of his customers.
Note: Day 24.
Disclaimer: Not mine. BtVS belongs to Whedon. HP belongs to J.K. Rowling.
George Weasley had been wondering about the one-eyed American for a while. The man had been coming in fairly regularly for about four months now.
The first time, George had decided he was a Muggle with magic relatives. You could tell just looking that the bloke wasn’t a wizard, and there was no other way to explain a muggle getting so deep into Diagon Alley. But on his second or third visit- Ron swore blind he’d been in on a rainy afternoon when George had pulled a duvet day- the man asked some technical questions about the spell work involved in the portable swamp kit. That made him wonder if he’d misjudged.
After that, George had just observed. He never saw a wand- not that most of his wizard customers ever drew theirs in the shop either. But he also never saw any of the usual subtle signs of belonging to the British wizarding community like Quidditch scarves, Hogwarts colors, or a copy of the Daily Prophet or the Quibbler.
Yet the man apparently lived in London and was well aware of magic and magical creatures. He knew that because Hermione had been in the shop one day, and amazingly, the mystery non-muggle had managed to keep up with her during a conversation heavy on technical details of some advanced arithmancy work she was currently involved in. Then the man had asked if Hermione could point him in the direction of someone who was an expert on the native magical beasts of Borneo.
And here he was again, on his weekly shopping run, stocking up on the usual joke implements along with the occasional more serious products from the back room. George all but ordered Ron to go check the stock, using Hogwarts book lists going out that week as a pretext. They’d need the shop in order as the school shoppers descended. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had become a must on the Diagon Alley route of most underage witches and wizards, ranking along with Fortescue’s and Quality Quidditch.
“Sorry about the wait, Mr…”
“Harris,” the man replied lightly. “But please, call me Xander. When people my own age say Mr. Harris, I start looking around for my father.”
“Xander, then,” George replied. “George Weasley. Though I might as well introduce myself. I know Ron knows you on sight, says you’re becoming quite the regular.”
“Yeah, I work in London, so it’s easy to drop in on my lunch or just nip out if we hit a dead time. I wish we’d had a shop like this when I was still in school.”
“If I only had a sickle for everytime someone said that,” George sighed. “Zonko’s wasn’t bad, of course, but I like to think we’ve taken it to a higher level.”
“I wasn’t around while Zonko’s was still in business,” Xander said ruefully, “But from what I hear, you set the bar pretty high.”
“Ron been telling stories again, has he?”
“No, usually when I hear stories, it’s from Luna or Hermione,” Xander replied.
“Luna… wait, are you the American she’s been hanging about with that has the Ministry so bothered?”
“The Ministry is bothered?” Xander asked, surprised. He really hadn’t thought they were the types to be subtle about being bothered. “Although truthfully, she met Willow first, and I guess she introduced her to Hermione, and ever since it’s been all sorts of theory of magic debates I just smile, nod, and fetch the donuts for. But I found this place when Willow asked me to do a potions ingredient run for her a couple months ago, so I’d say that’s a solid benefit.”
George whistled. The Ministry were bothered because Luna’s American friend was a wandless witch- causing some who held outdated views to protest that she shouldn’t be allowed to mix with wizarding society- and had connections to some sort of non-wizarding organization that neither the Ministry nor the Order of the Phoenix had been inclined to trust in the past. He wondered whether Xander was also part of whatever organization it was. Percy and Dad had both been bloody tight-lipped about it, probably worried that someone would let things slip to Luna.
“So are you actually a wizard then?”
Xander shook his head.
“No real magic ability to speak of, unless you count being something of a demon magnet. Now that we’re not all living on a Hellmouth, I can manage some simple spells, but nothing like what Willow can do. Only area I’m really decent at is seeing through spells that try to fool you.”
“That’s still fairly useful,” George mused. “Would have thought it was harder with only the one eye.”
Seeing the shadow that crossed Xander’s face, only to be replaced by a determinedly cheerful grin, George groaned.
“Sorry, I’ve stuck my foot in it. Mum would let me have it for that.”
“Nah, it’s ok,” Xander said, trying to shrug it off. “We’ve all got our ghosts.”
It was George’s turn to plaster a smile on his face he wasn’t really feeling, which didn’t entirely fool the other man.
“Yeah,” he said, trying not to think on Fred. “I suppose we have.”
Glancing around the shop, which was mostly empty, he came to a decision.
“Look, would you mind grabbing a drink with me? Ron’s too polite to ask, but I know I’ve got some questions for you. Luna doesn’t have much in the way of family to look out for her, and we’ve all been…concerned.”
Xander looked alarmed.
“Sure,” he replied. “Anything to put everyone’s mind at ease.”
George smiled.
“Let me just let Ron know we’re going, then.”
Now maybe he could finally get some answers. And possibly a partner in ‘crime’- Ron was all right around the shop, but he was nowhere near the innovator Fred had been. Xander might not be a born wizard, but he seemed to have a fine eye for practical joking. With any luck, he’d be up for field testing some of the new prototypes…