Date written: Sun 8 Oct 2017
Author: Starway Man
Acknowledgments: Thanks to Greywizard and Bill Haden for beta'ing this fanfic. And thanks to Buffyworld, too, for the episode transcripts and shooting scripts consulted in the writing of this story.
Category: AU, Action, Angst, Crossover, Romance
Symbols: "word" indicates speech, [ word ] indicates mental communication, { word } indicates a character's thoughts, and / word \\ indicates foreign languages.
Feedback: Doesn't every fanfic writer want this? So please don't be shy, and tell me what you thought of it!
Disclaimer:I don't own any of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel references, they belong to Joss and his gang of writer idi... er, geniuses, and all associated entities. Anything and everything to do with Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and whoever else can lay proper claim to the books and films. Anything else you recognize, it belongs to whichever legal entity owns it. This is a work of fanfiction, and no remuneration is expected or will be received.
Rating: Overall R, most parts PG-13
Author's Note 1: I've been away from the fanfic scene for a while now, 2017 has been a very busy year both personally and professionally. But I've finally gotten some spare time and written this quick BtVS/Harry Potter crossover one-shot, which I hope you'll like!
Author's Note 2: This story originally appeared as part of Greywizard's short fanfic series "Variations On A Scene", published over at Twisting the Hellmouth. If you haven't read that collection of stories yet, I strongly recommend you do so!
Summary: After an unexpected Armageddon, Xander Harris ends up in a totally different yet similar dimension – the Harry Potter-verse. Blessed by Gaea after being kidnapped by a demon, his presence causes many things to happen differently, for the wand wavers of Britain...
Title: A Tale of Two Worlds
"I saved the world with talking from my mouth. My mouth saved the world."
(Xander Harris, BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER)
"It is our choices Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
(Albus Dumbledore, HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS)
"You will always be a child of two worlds. I am grateful for this, and for you."
(Sarek, STAR TREK)
Apartment 3C of 141 Embury Street, Silverlake, Los Angeles
November 1, 2001
Cordelia Chase was feeling pretty grouchy. And the reason for that was the recently deceased, chauvinistic *asshole* named Billy Blim. An empowered half-demon whose demeaning, sexist comments had infuriated her, and for good reason...
{ I don't hate women. I mean, sure, you're all whores who sell yourselves for money or prestige. But men are just as bad. Maybe worse. They're willing to throw away careers or families or even lives for what's under your skirt. }
Intellectually, Cordelia knew the words had been spoken by a psychopathic loser who wasn't even man enough to do his own killing. But emotionally, she hadn't been able to get past the fact that Billy had been able to unleash a murderous misogyny in all the guys she knew – apart from Angel, who had been immune to the demonically-induced hatred and anger. Of course, that was mainly because the blood demon within him had never killed out of anger, it was always about the – pain and pleasure. The winner by knockout, sadism!
{ Ugh. I *so* need to get a life, } Cordelia thought to herself despondently. { I mean, how is it possible that nowadays, Angel's vampire-ness actually seems less *petty* than ordinary humanity? }
Briefly, Cordelia considered getting in touch with her friends and co-workers – Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Charles Gunn and Winifred Burkle. But she knew perfectly well that Wes wanted to be alone after nearly killing Fred; and Gunn wouldn't exactly be in the mood to talk either, after he'd lost all self-control and would have done the same thing – if Fred had given him the opportunity.
At that moment, Cordelia's cell phone beeped, indicating that she had new email. Getting up off the couch, she headed over to her PC and clicked on the relevant desktop icon, wanting to know who had just contacted her. Somewhat to her surprise, it was Willow Rosenberg, from Sunnydale...
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Cordelia exclaimed to herself, after reading the missive from her former Sunnydale High classmate. { I don't believe this! Xander freaking Harris is getting married?! }
The email was enough to bring back memories of a simpler time; memories of an ex-boyfriend, and their adventures together during high school. Someone who had been the first person to see past the superficial, spoiled and bitchy exterior, and yet who had then betrayed her trust – had thrown away what they'd had together during senior year, for no reason other than his own damn hormones (and a near-death experience)!
{ He's not even twenty-one years old yet, and already the Dweeb's engaged to someone? Who? } Cordelia asked herself in disbelief, as she continued to read through the rest of Willow's email. { Whoa! He actually proposed to the evil fairy godmother? What the hell was the Dork thinking, asking that man-hating former demon to marry him? Anybody with half a brain can see how that's a sure-fire recipe for disaster! }
Even though she knew it was none of her business anymore, Cordelia couldn't help wanting to call Xander to ask if it was really true – she couldn't quite believe it, unless she heard it straight from the horse's mouth. But she resisted the urge to get in touch with her ex, eventually deciding to flip through one of her old photo albums instead.
(Of course, that was mostly because she subconsciously dreaded hearing what Xander would have to say – that maybe he was happier with a centuries-old killer whose hands were totally stained with blood, rather than her!)
Feeling annoyed, Cordelia stared at the photos in the album. The first one was a picture of her in her stupid-looking high school graduation outfit, wearing that idiotic maroon cap and gown – with Xander putting his arm around her shoulders, and smiling lopsidedly into the camera.
She'd always loved that smile, even during the days she'd convinced herself that she *hated* Harris with every fibre of her being –
There was another picture of the two of them sitting together on her favorite light brown couch; the one with the half-checkered, half-flowered pattern to it. Before the IRS had repossessed it, damn them! Xander was leaning back into the near corner of the couch, sprawled slightly with her lying against him. Her hand was palm flat on his chest, and her cheek was lying against his chest next to her hand, and Xander had his arm around her with his hand on her hip.
Cordelia couldn't help smirking; the Dumbass had a small smile on his lips, and he was looking into the camera with an almost challenging expression. Whereas she looked extremely sexy and very satisfied there, wearing that dark red spaghetti strap blouse – the one that had always driven all the boys mad with lust...
Still. They looked extremely – right – together in that picture, somehow.
In another photo, the two of them were standing extremely close together with their arms around each other, outside the old Chase mansion pool house and leaning against one of the concrete pillars. She had one arm possessively around Xander's waist, and her other hand equally possessively on the wrist of the hand that he had on her left hip. He looked extremely good in that dark blue shirt she'd gifted to him for his birthday, and she was wearing that sexy-looking red sleeveless dress Harris had always liked seeing her in.
Again, she had a very satisfied, almost sleepy-looking little smile on her face. Her entire attitude in the picture practically screamed, "Mine!"
Another pic had the two of them facing the camera, wearing the same outfits. Xander had his left arm around her waist, his hand on her left hip, and she had her arms folded in front of her under her breasts with a challenging expression on her face. Serious looks – no faint smiles in that one.
Cordelia could remember why, but nowadays she preferred not to think about Angelus, and how close he'd come to destroying the world back then.
The final one was a picture from the summer of '98; they were outdoors in the California sunshine, fooling around on the Sunnydale pier. Xander was wearing the black and blue bottoms from a wet suit, the type that surfers wore, and a blue tank top. She herself was wearing her favorite short, tight, white tank top with blue edging, and stylish jean shorts – and she was riding piggy-back on Xander's back, his hands cupping her thighs to hold her up. She was laughing, one arm wrapped around his neck, and her other hand raised as if she was about to dope-slap him upside the back of his head.
Unsurprising, really, that she had eventually dope-slapped Xander that way during the early summer of 1999; when he had practically begged her to not leave the Hellmouth for a (in retrospect) hopelessly-doomed acting career, in faraway Hollywood.
Just before she put away the photo album, Cordelia murmured to herself, "I wish it could have ended in a different, better way between us..."
Luckily for her, a sympathetic earth goddess was listening to her half-hearted wish; as well as being aware of the horrible fate that awaited her, less than a year into the future.
Truthfully, the goddess knew she couldn't let D'Hoffryn's get have all the fun.
12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London (alternate reality)
The previous day
Harry James Potter was feeling pretty annoyed. Not only because today was the twenty-year anniversary of his parents' murder, but recently, his life had taken a turn for the worse. Well, comparatively speaking, anyway.
After everything that had happened since he'd been left with the Dursley family back in 1981, his entire life was a textbook on how *not* to raise a magical child. Or any child, really – his cousin Dudley had been a spoiled whale until three or four years ago, and even pet rocks needed more care than what the Dursleys had ever showed him.
Still, right now, Harry wasn't happy. And there were quite a few reasons why.
His girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, couldn't be with him today to help him cope with the memories – her Quidditch career with the Holyhead Harpies meant having to play at Ilkley Moor against Puddlemere United... and while ordinarily he would have been there at the stadium to cheer her on, Harry just couldn't force himself to attend on this day of all days.
Not exactly the stuff a Good Boyfriend was made of – but then, he'd never claimed to be that in any way, shape or form.
And his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, couldn't be present today, either. Oh, doubtless those two would have been here to commiserate with him if they could have, but that wasn't possible – his best mates had gone to visit Hermione's parents in Australia (in the admittedly vain hope of persuading them to return to Britain, after their memories had been restored three years ago). And the most mismatched couple in Hogwarts' history had temporarily gotten stuck there due to some indigenous uprising, forcing Wizarding Australia to briefly close its borders.
Huh. It wouldn't actually surprise him if Ron and Hermione had somehow gotten involved in that; they didn't actively go looking for trouble, but it always seemed to find them anyway.
Just like it did him!
His other friends, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, likewise weren't available to keep him company. They were either courting a witch named Hannah Abbott – or else busy searching for nargles, or blibbering humdingers, or wrackspurts, or crumple-horned snorkacks. Or whatever it was Luna was focusing on this week, anyway.
The rest of the Weasley family wasn't really an option, either – Ron's parents Arthur and Molly would have gladly taken him in, and likewise Ron's brothers (at least those who were present in the country), but Harry didn't want to force his company (and issues) on any of them. He knew that nowadays he had a tendency to brood and get depressed and then lash out in blind anger, and the Weasleys already had enough problems – especially Ron's brother George, who had developed an unhealthy liking of firewhiskey-laced tequila after the death of his twin, Fred.
{ We won, but the price was too high. Too high for it to feel like any kind of victory – even now, three years after the Battle of Hogwarts. }
Sighing, Harry dug out an old photo of the secret society known as the Order of the Phoenix; the original Order, which included his parents James and Lily Potter. He stared at the magical photograph, which nowadays was almost entirely a collage of the dead. The other photo he'd been gifted of the newer Order members wasn't much different; so many people he knew had died, before the Second Blood War instigated by Voldemort had ended three and a half years ago...
{ No. Call him by his *real* name – Tom Marvolo Riddle, } Harry thought viciously to himself. { Everything else is just a description. Like halfblood, bastard, and murderer. And he was no lord, either – especially not with that stupid made-up name, which means 'flight from death'! }
Still, so many people had died during the wars; no matter what name Tom had wanted to call himself.
Like Albus Dumbledore.
Sirius Black.
Remus Lupin.
Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin.
Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody.
And so many, many others.
Well, at least Kingsley Shacklebolt was still alive, and now the Minister of Magic for Wizarding Britain. And if anyone had a chance of reducing the corruption and bias within the Ministry, it was the pureblood friend of his father's.
Not that it would be easy, of course – Kingsley had recently confided to him, Ron and Hermione that it would probably take an entire generation to change the system, and end the discrimination in fact as well as in name –
{ I'll personally end it myself, though, if I have to, } Harry thought to himself determinedly. { Because I bloody well *refuse* to let my godson, Teddy, grow up as some sort of second-class citizen around here; just because his father was a werewolf! }
Indeed, given what had happened to his own godfather, the so-called Chosen One refused to let anything stop him with regards to that sort of thing.
Harry studied the old Order photograph, his fingers tracing the outlines of the people he'd known. He then muttered to himself, "I *wish* it had happened differently. I wish that at least Sirius was still alive!"
And somewhere... somewhen... a Higher Being *laughed*.
The Bronze, Sunnydale
November 3, 2001
The demon named Sweet (well, that wasn't really his name – he had over a hundred of them, after all – but never mind that for now) chuckled to himself. "Now that was a show-stopping number." The vampire Slayer named Buffy Summers and the vampire named Spike turned to look at him, but he ignored their facial expressions over his comments. "Not quite the fireworks that I was looking for, but still."
Her eyes glittering darkly, the Rosenberg witch told him in the bluntest possible terms, "Get out of here."
{ Hrmm. She's got a point, this *is* getting somewhat boring. } Disappointed that he had failed to make the Slayer immolate herself with her singing and dancing just now, Sweet nodded and got up off his chair. "I guess the little missus and I should be on our way."
Dawn Summers – formerly the Key, and currently Buffy's little sister – backed away from him in fear, sitting back down into her chair. Sweet sighed to himself, { Oh, please, this is getting ridiculous – }
"That's never going to happen," an older British type – Giles, if Sweet remembered his name properly – interjected venomously.
"I don't make the rules. She summoned me," Sweet chuckled darkly.
"I so did not!" the brunette teen told him firmly. To the others, Dawn added, "He keeps saying that. But I didn't –"
"You have my talisman on, sweet thing."
His intended bride cringed in fear, cowering away from him as he reached out to touch the talisman in question. Then the girl started to babble nervously, "Oh, but, no, I, I, um, uh, this, at, at the Magic Box, on the floor, I was, I was cleaning, and I... forgot... but... I didn't summon anything."
Sweet could tell she wasn't lying – Dawn clearly wasn't capable of it, in her current condition, so he simply said, "Well, now, that's a twist."
Giles said slowly, "If it was in the shop... then one of us probably..."
As the mortals all paused and looked around at one another, the dopey-looking male of the group slowly raised his hand.
"Xander?!" the former vengeance demon Anyanka yelped, staring at the guy in disbelief.
"Well, I didn't know what was gonna happen! I just thought there were gonna be dances and songs. I just wanted to make sure we'd... we'd work out." Xander sent her a nervous smile. "Get a happy ending."
Again, Sweet chuckled darkly. "I think everything worked out just fine."
Xander turned to look at him. "Does this mean that I have to..." He paused and gulped, "...be your queen?"
Sweet paused, and then he shrugged with a scowl and said, "I'm afraid so."
He ignored the cacophony of noise that immediately erupted, deeming it irrelevant. He merely stretched out an arm, and his new queen immediately appeared at his side. He then subvocalized some passwords, and a swirly blue portal – the gateway back home – appeared within the nightclub floor. Grabbing the newly designated missus, Sweet then jumped for it –
He ignored as unimportant the red-haired witch's attempts to stop them, and the blonde one's hurried chant in Babylonian. And while Sweet was justified to do so for the former, he would soon regret doing so for the latter...
Sweet's hell dimension
May 12, 2002
/ That's it, I've had it! \\ Sweet yelled to himself in his native language, which instantly sent the demon henchmen scurrying away. / This has gone on long enough... \\
The humanoid, red-skinned demon – undisputed lord of the song and dance according to the mortals, a title he had gladly accepted so long ago – was in a bad mood. And he had been almost since the moment he and Xander had departed Sunnydale, actually.
Because despite his phenomenal powers, including hypnosis and mind manipulation – Harris had managed to reject and avoid every attempt to consummate their relationship, over the past six months.
{ I should have killed that blond bitch before we ever left the Hellmouth, } Sweet thought grumpily. { But then again, how was I supposed to know that particular protection spell she incanted was *unbreakable*? That accursed mortal – Maclay, or whatever her name was – she must have pleaded with Gaea to get involved, and prevent me from bedding the missus even once! }
Well, what with his sexual urges going unsatisfied and some of the minions getting funny ideas about who should be running things around here, Sweet had decided the time had finally come to simply cut his losses. It was time to get rid of his so-called queen!
Send him back home, anyway. Oh, sure, he could simply kill the guy – but there was that pesky concern that if a deity-level entity was monitoring the situation in general, and Harris in particular, that would just be asking for trouble!
"Hey, let go of me!" Harris angrily shrugged off the hands of the two lackeys who had escorted him here. "And Sweet, what do you want now?"
"To send you home," Sweet replied, stroking his elongated, pointy chin before activating a magic mirror in one corner of the room (which looked a lot like a musical production theatre, mostly for Xander's benefit).
"WHAT?!" the mortal yelped in disbelief. "You kidnap me for six months, attempt to rape me I lost track how many times, and now you're simply letting me go? Just like that?"
"Yes. Why not?" Sweet replied disinterestedly, still scanning for Xander's native dimension within the multi-dimensional infinity of the universe.
"Why not? You gotta be kidding me," Harris scoffed. "Like, aren't you worried me and my friends will come after you for revenge?!"
"Did any of them ever manage to set foot in this place, the entire time you've been here?" Sweet scowled at his unwelcome companion. "No, of course not, you idiot. Because no one can enter or leave this realm unless *I* allow it." That was a lie, of course; a god or an Old One could get here if it so desired – but then this pathetic creature didn't need to know that.
"Now be quiet, and let me find your dimension..."
It only took a few more seconds for the mirror to home in on the right coordinates, but instead of the familiar sight of the Bronze – there was nothing but a lifeless, barren desert visible, with black skies and scorched earth everywhere.
"What is this? What, what happened?" Xander demanded, before Sweet ordered him to be quiet again.
Scanning backwards in time, he and Harris witnessed how the red-haired witch – except she had somehow acquired black hair and black veins and looked delightfully evil – destroyed the world, burning it into a cinder. And to think – Rosenberg had actually pulled that off by channeling the life-force of the planet into an effigy of that old bitch Proserpexa, and using that she-demon's power to bring about Armageddon?
Sweet never would have guessed she'd had it in her to do something like that. { I have to admit, I'm officially impressed! }
"No, that's not – this, this is a trick! It's gotta be! You – I – hey, I'm not falling for that kind of lame, made-up crap!" Harris said angrily.
"Oh, shut up, you useless idiot," Sweet replied roughly, he was in no mood to indulge the mortal's feelings of denial. "Now, what am I going to do with you? I doubt Gaea, or whoever is watching over you, would appreciate me dumping you into that wasteland to die. Let me think..."
"Oh dear God," the mortal abruptly went pale. "No, it can't be true! Willow wouldn't have done that!"
Sweet frowned, ignoring how Harris was now almost catatonic. Then the demon reactivated his magic mirror, and quickly began scanning through a number of different realities.
{ What's it really matter if his world is now completely dead? One mortal dimension is as good as any other. Let me see – where can I find one that's got... magic users? Check. Vampires? Check. Werewolves? Check. Hrmm, this one's practically a clone of his reality, apart from the lack of a Hellmouth. Good enough! }
Without further ado, Sweet grabbed Xander and hurled him through the mirror, before deactivating it – and deciding to treat himself to a long-overdue evening of fun and entertainment!
Limbo between worlds
A time meaningless to mortal minds
Xander Harris fell, screaming.
He had no idea how long he'd been falling through this black void filled with voices screaming and wailing in despair and horror. Time didn't seem to mean much here, wherever 'here' was.
Xander didn't think he'd been falling for less than twenty minutes. Likewise, he didn't think he'd been falling for longer than twenty years.
But he couldn't be entirely sure, either way.
Still, however long he'd been falling after Sweet had pushed him through that mirror, it had been long enough for him to move past the fact that Willow had committed genocide on an *unprecedented* scale, killing over six billion people and permanently damning her own soul.
Well, at least to the point where he was no longer semi-catatonic thinking about her doing that, anyway.
So, Xander continued screaming and falling through the void – until finally, he saw a source of light directly beneath him – and he fell directly into it.
The Death Chamber, Department of Mysteries within the Ministry of Magic, London
June 18, 1996 Early A.M.
Harry Potter, fifteen going on sixteen years old, was starting to think that maybe – just *maybe* – coming to the Ministry tonight hadn't been one of his best ideas.
After all – the whole thing had been a trap, right from the start.
Bellatrix Lestrange and the other Death Eaters had arrived in the Hall of Prophecies and attempted to steal that prophecy orb away from him, after all. Not only that, but he'd gotten separated from his friends after he and the D.A. members had attempted to fight the Death Eaters. Hermione had gotten cursed, Neville's nose had been shattered, and when they'd been reunited with the others, Ginny's ankle had gotten broken and Ron had been badly injured by those brain tentacles. Even Luna had been hurt, although that was just a graze along her arm, thanks to his actions.
Worst of all, the prophecy orb had shattered, without him being able to hear that blasted prophecy about him and Voldemort!
All things considered, it was lucky Dumbledore and the various members of the Order (Lupin, Sirius, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley) had finally shown up – and all the Death Eaters had left –
Except for Bellatrix, who was still fighting her cousin – Harry's godfather – the one and only, Sirius Black.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius taunted the dark (and dark-haired) witch, while he was standing near a tall, stone-pointed archway that looked so ancient, cracked and crumbling that Harry was amazed how it was still standing.
{ Damn it, Sirius, this is a battle; not a comedy show! } Harry thought to himself in annoyance, as he witnessed his godfather laughing at his evil cousin. { Show a bit of focus, please! }
Sirius's comment must have made Bellatrix *really* mad, though – as she suddenly let loose with a blood-curdling roar.
Quite a number of things then seemed to happen, almost simultaneously.
Something male, and at least mostly human-shaped, abruptly tumbled out of the Veil, smacking into Sirius and knocking him to the floor.
Bellatrix screamed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" and a jet of green light streamed out of her wand.
The Killing Curse impacted on the new arrival, striking him on the chest – but, to Harry's bewildered amazement, the man didn't fall down dead like he was supposed to. He just stood there, looking surprised and stating, "Where the hell am I? And what just hit me?"
Harry couldn't believe it, of course, and neither could Sirius – or Bellatrix. He'd managed to say dazedly, "You survived the Killing Curse –" when a screaming Bellatrix ran over and launched herself at the stranger with the American accent, trying to stab him with her dagger.
(The same one that, even though Harry didn't know it, would have eventually killed the house-elf named Dobby – in another timeline, anyway).
But the new arrival grabbed hold of the dark witch's wrists and – in a smooth move Harry almost couldn't believe he'd witnessed – the bloke dropped backward, managing get a leg and foot up between Bellatrix and himself, before he shoved up and out with it while pulling down on the hand that held the dagger. Voldemort's most vicious minion subsequently went flying up and over the American's head, leaving her dagger behind as it clattered to the floor.
Screaming her lungs out, Bellatrix soared straight through the Veil. After fluttering for a moment as though in a high wind, the Veil then fell back into place, as if nothing had happened at all.
{ Indian rifle throw, } was the first coherent thought that passed through Harry's mind. { I *think* that's what they called it... the one time the Dursleys let me see that Western movie on the telly along with Dudley, when we were little kids... }
The American then got up and said, "Holy crap. Uh, just so I'm sure; that was the local crazy bitch, right?"
Sirius shrugged and said, "My first cousin, actually, but you got the crazy bitch part right."
"Okay. My name's Xander Harris," the new arrival abruptly introduced himself, looking around in concern.
"I'm Sirius Black, and this is my godson, Harry Potter," Sirius introduced them both. "And bloody hell – did you really just come *out* of the Veil-?"
"Damn it, Padfoot, what's going on?" Remus demanded, as he came running up to all three of them. "The Death Eaters have run for it; Kingsley, Nymphadora and Moody are all unconscious, and – who's this?"
"He said his name's Xander Harris," Harry said helpfully, before wincing at the look his old DADA professor sent him. "And he just saved Sirius' life, and sent Bellatrix through the Veil!"
"Oh. Well, thank you for that; couldn't have happened to a more deranged witch," Remus said politely to the new arrival.
"You're welcome?" Harris said in apparent confusion. "Uh, so... who are you people, and where am I, exactly? I mean, I can tell you guys are British like Giles, but am I in England or America or what?"
"You're in London," Sirius told him helpfully. "The Ministry of Magic, actually."
"And who's Giles?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Stop! We don't have time for this!" Moony suddenly exclaimed, as Harris opened his mouth to reply. "Harry, where are your friends?"
"Well, Neville is –" Harry began to gesture, before reality suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. "Oh, no! Ron, Hermione, Ginny, even Luna-!"
"Where did the Death Eaters go?" Sirius interrupted him, before Harry could say anything more.
"The who?" Harris interjected, looking even more confused than ever.
"Never mind, if you don't already know –" Remus started to say impatiently.
"Which he wouldn't, mate, since he just came out of the Veil and all," Sirius gestured to the portal in question.
"You came *out* of the Veil of Death?" Remus sent the American a flabbergasted and disbelieving look.
"Is that what that thing is? Huh. Catchy name," Harris looked at the crumbling stone structure in distaste. "Looks like a Stargate gone to seed."
"Look, we don't have time for this, like Moony said," Sirius interjected. "In a nutshell, Mr. Harris, you've arrived here in the middle of a war – so until the excitement's over and we can sort this mess out, you'd best stick with us.
"And if you could keep an eye on my godson, in case he gets himself into trouble – again – that'd be mightily appreciated."
"Oi!" Harry snapped, feeling his face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm not the one who would have ended up *dead* from the Killing Curse just now, if Mr. Harris hadn't knocked you out of the way-!"
"Enough! Let's go!" Moony semi-growled, before grabbing Harry's wrist and dragging him away, with Sirius quickly following them.
Seeing him pausing only to pick up Bellatrix's dagger, Harry was somewhat relieved to witness the American bring up the rear, following them closely.
After all, if he could survive being hit by the Killing Curse – and Harry was somewhat pleased that someone else had *finally* joined the club about that, because maybe now all that Boy-Who-Lived nonsense would finally go away – then Mr. Harris probably had little to worry about, magically speaking. And it would definitely help having someone like that in their side, no doubt about it!
The Atrium, Ministry of Magic, London
A short while later
Xander was really confused. Which really wasn't all that different from how things usually went, he reflected to himself.
He'd followed the Brits through the think tank room (he really didn't know what else you could call it, what with the brains in tanks all over the place), out into the department entrance with the weird doors. His new acquaintances had then piled into one of the elevators outside, dragging him along for the ride up to what looked like some kind of atrium. After that – well, it had all gotten rather baffling and strange...
Some old guy who looked like a weird-ass psychedelic version of Merlin, and some equally weird demon with no nostrils and red eyes (not merely bloodshot, but totally red), had started up with the mojo, almost the minute they'd walked in!
Not that he had very much experience with magical battles, of course, but this one had looked really hardcore!
There was an honest-to-God phoenix (Xander had never seen one outside of pictures in one of Giles's books, but there was no doubt it was the real deal), and snakes, and, and...
"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore? Above such brutality, are you?" Red-Eyed Demon demanded with a world-class sneer. And it was definitely a demon, not just some mojo'ed-up guy like the LSD Merlin wannabe had claimed. After all, it definitely felt like a demon, and he should know – he'd spent months in a hell dimension filled with them, after all!
LSD Guy, or Dumbledore – assuming that really was his name, which it most likely was { He must *so* have been teased a lot as a kid for that moniker; dumb as a door, anyone? } – replied, "We both know there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom. Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit."
Tom snarled back, "There is *nothing* worse than death, Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore told the bad guy, "You are quite wrong. Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness."
{ Some things are worse than death? Yeah, guess he's right. Like having to live after all the people you love have ended up dead, } the thought passed through Xander's mind, before he could stop it.
Xander then witnessed Sirius and Remus pulling out their wands (and seriously, all these people actually used magic wands?) and opening fire at Demon Tom. The magical assault didn't appear to have much effect, though, as the bad guy flicked his own wand and cast some kinda spell that sent the English wizards flying, Dumbledore included.
Tom then focused on the kid standing alongside him. "Harry Potter..." he hissed, kinda like a snake. "You won't escape me *this* time – Avada Kedavra!"
Xander never hesitated. He shoved Harry aside, and was hit by the green light – magic of some sort obviously, but it had no effect on him as far as he could tell. He just asked in confusion, "What is with you people and all the abracadabra crap, anyway?"
Tom looked like he couldn't believe it and subsequently ignored everyone and everything else, as he tried to kill Xander any and every magical way he could. "Confringo! Expulso! Reducto! Sectumsempra!"
But all his curses and hexes were useless, as Harris simply walked right up to him and snarled angrily, "Look, buddy! I've been having a *very* bad day! My world got blown up by my best friend, a demon threw me into Limbo for what felt like ages, an evil bitch tried to stab me a few minutes ago and I'm pretty sure I killed her by dumping her into that portal, and now some demon guy with a snake face is constantly tryin' to dark mojo my ass! I am in a BAD goddamn mood! And you know what I find helps with that?"
He grabbed Tom into an armlock before the stunned wizard could apparate or fly away, and the moment Xander touched him, Tom started yelling, "No! This is not *possible*! What have you – my magic is gone –"
Xander then screamed, "GOOD!" before he stabbed Tom with Bellatrix's dagger. "And the answer to my question is – stress relief, asshole!"
The watching audience gasped as the Tom's body fell to the floor, and then some kinda black cloud erupted out of it, and attempted to burrow its way into Xander. But it just bounced off him, and then it headed for Harry – before Dumbledore cast a spell that sent the black cloud flying up and out of the Ministry.
Calming down, Xander briefly wondered why the LSD Merlin wannabe hadn't tried to capture and/or contain the black cloud, but then he figured (a) it wasn't really any of his business, and (b) it was probably something along the lines of a rabbit somehow capturing a wildcat. More likely lethal to the captor, rather than the captive.
And then, as if to relieve the tension, some fat little dumbass with a lime-green hat popped out through one of the fireplaces and said, "What's going on here? What happened to the fountain? And – wait, that can't possibly be...?"
"Cornelius, look closely!" Dumbledore shouted in a thunderous voice. "Behold the proof, the evidence of your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a whole year. Lord Voldemort has returned! You have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"
"But, but..." Cornelius spluttered, before his eyes widened in recognition. "Black? What-? Aurors! Arrest him!"
"Are you *sure* you want to do that, Minister?" Xander heard Harry say, as the kid came to stand alongside him, placing his own body between Sirius and the overweight newcomer and pointing his wand threateningly. "Because the only way you'll arrest my godfather – who's innocent of the crimes he's accused of, by the way – is over my dead body."
"HARRY, NO!" Sirius roared, as several people clad in red robes (and what was with *that* sort of fashion statement? Hadn't anybody around here heard of Star Trek? Putting your cops in red shirts was just asking for a whole lotta "He's dead, Jim!" moments) aimed their wands at him. "There's no need for that! Minister, please, tell your people not to do anything to my godson, I'll come quietly –"
"ARE YOU MENTAL?!" Harry instantly shouted. "Fudge will have you Kissed by a Dementor, just like he did with Crouch Junior –"
"Who? And what's a Dementor?" Xander interrupted.
"An evil, soul-sucking demon," Remus supplied helpfully.
"Oh. Well, I'm guessing that's a bad thing," he cogitated.
"Ending up a soulless husk after a Dementor feeds on you – yeah, you could say that," Sirius nodded.
"Yeesh, I guess Sweet really did send me somewhere close to home," Xander sighed. He then walked towards the dumbass – Brownie, or whatever his name was – and said, "Listen, mister, I'm thinking we need to talk. Is there somewhere private around here we can do that?"
Just then, one of the red-robed guys – R-Os, or whatever – stepped forward, pointed his wand at him and said, "Hands where I can see them, and place your wand on the ground!"
"I haven't got a wand, all I've got is this knife –" Xander raised the weapon in question.
"STUPEFY!" the magical cop (Xander assumed that was what he was, anyway) immediately shouted. A jet of scarlet light immediately shot out of the magical stick –
And again, much to Xander's lack of surprise, it had utterly no effect on him, once the stupefying spell hit him on the chest. "Yeah, I'm guessing that was supposed to accomplish something, right? Like making me unconscious?"
"What the bloody-?" the Brit, who didn't look like the sharpest knife in the drawer even on a good day, gasped in disbelief.
"You would well advised to lower your wand and rejoin your comrades, Auror Dawlish," the Dumbledore guy ordered firmly. "This young man, whoever he is, saved Harry's life just now by taking a Killing Curse in his place – and as you can see, he is still standing here, alive and unaffected. He is also the one who managed to stab Voldemort with that knife in his hand, even after the Dark Lord let loose with all the curses he could upon his target. He has accomplished things that even *I* cannot possibly do. So, having said that – do you *really* want to make him angry with you?"
Dawlish blinked in confusion (which was clearly not a new look for him), before he finally nodded and stepped back. Then Dumbledore turned to Fudge and said, "Perhaps we should indeed continue this conversation in your office, Cornelius?"
"Oh... yes, yes, quite right, Dumbledore, we should, um... discuss this privately, in detail," the politician stammered, backing away from Xander. "But I don't think this man, whoever he is, should –"
"This man saved my life as well as Harry's not long ago, Minister. Mr. Harris is an ally of both House Black *and* House Potter," Sirius cut in.
"It would make sense, therefore, for him to be *your* ally as well, wouldn't it, Minister?" Remus interjected.
Xander could almost see the wheels slowly turning in the other man's head as the dumbass said nervously, "Well, um, yes, that would, err, rather make sense..."
Minister Fudge's office, Ministry of Magic, London, England
A short while later
Xander shook his head, as a hot older woman – wearing a monocle of all things – finished taking their statements with some sorta mojo'ed quill and parchment that apparently – somehow – moved all by itself. It was pretty obvious that these people found it *really* hard to believe his story, but that didn't truly matter to him.
Likewise, it didn't really matter that that Fudge guy had been forced to acknowledge that Harry had been right all along about his godfather's innocence, and Sirius would soon be exonerated of the crimes he'd been convicted of – convicted without even a trial, apparently.
After all, Xander had his own problems to deal with right now.
"Right, I think I've got all I need for the moment. Still, having said that – Cornelius, could I have a private word?" the stern-faced witch asked, pushing a strand of her red hair behind one ear.
"Of course, Amelia," Fudge nodded frantically like a bobble-head doll. He got up and joined the redhead on the other side of his desk. "Let's go outside, shall we?"
"Perhaps Moony should accompany you? You can't get a better bodyguard than a werewolf who's also a DADA professor, after all," Sirius said, suddenly smirking. "Plus, let's face it – how sure are you that Voldemort hasn't seeded his own people into the Hit Wizards and Auror corps? I mean, *he* may be gone, but most of his Death Eaters are still here. And I'd wager you're both prime targets for their anger now."
The politician went pale, but the top cop just glared at Sirius for the perceived insult to her police force. Nonetheless, she didn't object as Remus got up and accompanied them outside. And then it was just him, Sirius, Harry and Dumbledore.
"So, you're actually a muggle who knows about magic, and not a wizard. I must say, that was a rather unexpected thing to learn," Dumbledore started off, his voice sounding somewhat amused.
"Yeah, well. Unexpected is sorta my middle name. Actually, it's LaVelle, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention that to anyone," he shrugged half-heartedly.
"Why not? It's a good name. French, if I'm not mistaken. 'Dweller in the town or village,' right?" Sirius asked.
"Don't know, don't care. Right now, all I care about is going home to the States," Xander sighed loudly.
Harry looked confused, and Xander couldn't blame the kid for it. After hearing that Xander's reality no longer existed, he was probably wondering the exact same thing as the other two wizards in the room.
Namely, what the hell going to the America of this reality was supposed to accomplish...
Right on cue, Harry asked him, "But why leave and go somewhere where no one knows you? I mean, this isn't your world, so doesn't that mean no one you knew is there in the USA?"
Xander shrugged and replied, "Well, according to Dumbledore here, Sunnydale doesn't exist in this world. So, I'm guessing that anyone who was born in that town – they don't exist here, either. But there are some people like Tara and Buffy – and even the Chase family, who moved to the Hellmouth when my ex, Cordy, was less than two years old... they should still exist here. Well, I hope so, anyway. Who knows, I might find someone I knew – but even if I don't, pal, I've got no desire to stay here in the Land of Bangers and Mash."
"Why's that?" Sirius asked, looking both a tiny bit amused and insulted at that description of his homeland.
"Meh. Just about every British type I ever met, apart from Giles – and even he wasn't perfect – well, no offense, but they were all pervy assholes, or stuck-up idiots, or murderous psychopaths. And I don't feel like tempting fate with you people and that whole anti-magic thing I've got going now, ya know what I mean?" Xander asked.
"No offense taken, of course," Dumbledore murmured, his eyes briefly twinkling in amusement.
"And with regard to that tempting fate thing – well, surely you don't think the Death Eaters are any real threat to you?" Sirius asked, looking puzzled. "After all, your ability to nullify magic of all kinds –"
"Would make me some kind of abomination in the eyes of the average guy on the street, wouldn't it?" Xander interrupted, a hard look appearing on his face. "From what I've heard, you people use magic for *everything*. So, what do you think would happen if the word got out that someone like me exists? An alien from another reality, someone who they can't defend themselves against with the only weapon they know how to use? I dunno if you have lynch mobs in this world, but hey – I'm not willing to risk something like that happening to me!"
"Alas, there are elements of truth in what you say," Dumbledore sighed. "Although some would hail you as a hero for temporarily incapacitating Voldemort, others would indeed label you as an abomination, to use your own word for it."
"But..." Harry trailed off in confusion. "Isn't he dead now? I mean – isn't Voldemort *gone*, like he was before? What's temporary about being stabbed to death, exactly?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry, that's not something we need to discuss right now –"
"I say, it is," Sirius disagreed. "What are you trying to hide, Dumbledore?"
"Sirius, my boy –"
"I'm not your 'boy', and don't ask me to simply trust you on this, either! Because I won't, not after everything that's happened tonight. Harry was almost killed a dozen times over, remember?!" Sirius snapped angrily. "You think that the danger isn't over yet, and I want to know why! And spare me the platitudes, I want the truth!"
"Yeah, me too," Xander finally spoke up again. "So, let's hear it, Gandalf. What's your big secret?"
Dumbledore was silent for a few moments, evidently weighing his options. Finally, he said, "I cannot tell you everything – that is simply not an option. A magical vow of silence which is unbreakable, you understand. And unless you can protect your mind from being invaded by a Legilimens, it's far too dangerous for me to tell you everything, anyway –"
"A legili-what now?" Xander interrupted, looking confused.
"Magical mind-reader," Harry supplied.
"No, actually, that's a common misconception – but never mind that for the moment. My point is, I can only tell you some things; hopefully, though, enough to satisfy your curiosity. Will that suffice?" Dumbledore asked.
"Headmaster?" Harry sounded confused all over again.
"Voldemort has constructed horcruxes, Harry. More than one, apparently," the old man sighed sadly.
"Which means what?" Xander asked, taking in the suddenly-horrified look on Black's face and realizing the other man's reaction indicated that this particular bit of news was *bad*.
"That our adversary cannot be killed, as you understand the word, until his horcruxes – items within which Voldemort has stored fragments of his soul – have all been destroyed..."
"Huh. No wonder he feels like a demon, most of his soul's not there," Xander said with a grimace, as the full import of what he'd just heard began settling in.
Limbo between worlds
A time meaningless to mortal minds
The body of Cordelia Chase fell, without making a sound. The entity possessing Xander's former girlfriend felt that such things were completely beneath it, after all.
The rogue Power That Be silently cursed its recent rotten luck, though.
Oh, granted, the first part of its plot had been entirely successful; namely, tricking the Mother into ascending to one of the Higher Planes, by using her own pride and ego against her. The foolish mortal had fallen for that demon mercenary's lies with laughable ease, and had subsequently been possessed completely, according to schedule. But the next part of the strategy –
Had failed completely.
How, *how* had its plans been practically undone by that accursed dark witch? Willow Rosenberg should never have destroyed the world that way! How had losing her lover, that simpering Maclay woman, turned the redhead into the antithesis of everything she'd fought for, since she was a child?
{ It's probably that foolish boy's fault for letting himself get kidnapped by that idiot singing demon, and not being there on the Hellmouth to stop her insane rampage, } the evil higher being thought to itself disdainfully, easily ignoring all the screaming and wailing voices in the background. { Well, at least Harris's presence in his new world serves a useful purpose – I can use him as a beacon to guide myself to that reality, and save it from the forces of evil with my love. }
{ Of course, I'll need to find someone sired by a vampire with a soul to join with the Mother that way – but, since humans can interbreed with the vampires of that world, that shouldn't be too difficult... }
Indeed, the rogue Power found itself cheering up immensely as it neared its destination, the same rectangle of light Xander had previously encountered during his own journey through this realm – when something completely unexpected happened.
Namely, 'Death' intervened.
[ That mortal plane is not intended for one such as you, ] the non-corporeal voice echoed in Cordelia's ears, immediately infuriating the rogue.
"You cannot stop me!" it snarled, using Cordelia's voice.
[ You have ignored my counsel, just as Gaea warned me you would. So be it, ] the formless Higher Being (which had once gifted three Peverell brothers with items of great power) replied emotionlessly. [ The punishment for breaking the rules – and putting right what you engineered to go wrong, all those years ago – shall now begin. ]
"NO!" the infuriated, corrupted higher power screamed into the void, starting to thrash angrily.
But its ranting was for naught since, as Cordelia's body fell helplessly towards the source of light – it was entrapped in something which *forced* the rogue Power out of its human vessel. Squeezed out inch by inch, the evil thing finally manifested physically – before it was subsequently crushed by a metaphysical hand which wasn't a hand, but rather an application of force and will –
[ Yes. You will discover what an eternity of pain is, instead of an eternity of feasting on those who are helpless to resist you. And as for you, Cordelia Chase – it is not yet time for you to join all your dead friends. Live the rest of your life with the man you were originally meant to be with, first. ]
The young woman was in no shape to understand that particular message, though, as she fell through the Veil and tumbled to the ground in the empty Death Chamber.
Confused and unable to remember anything after she had willingly given up part of her humanity in order to survive the painful visions sent to her by the Powers That Be, the first thing to come out of Cordelia's mouth was –
"All right! What the hell is going on here?"
The Leaky Cauldron, Charing Cross Road, London
June 18, 2001
Xander looked around at the wizarding pub and thought to himself, { I can't believe I'm seriously thinking this, especially after all the public terror regarding the whole 'abomination' thing way back when, but my life is actually pretty good right now. Well, more or less, anyway. }
Be that as it may, today was the five-year anniversary of when he and Cordelia had arrived in this world, and so their British friends had decided to have a celebratory party here to mark that special occasion. In one sense, it was kinda hard to believe half a decade had passed so quickly; that he and Cordy were now 27 years old. But on the other hand, so much had happened in the past five years, it almost felt like he was finally heading into beer gut country after dealing with a *lot* of surprises...
Xander certainly hadn't been expecting to be reunited with Cordelia that day; that was for sure. His ex-girlfriend had been taken prisoner by those hooded guys calling themselves Unspeakables, not long after she'd come through the Stargate Veil. They'd quickly come to regret that, though – since Cordelia had gotten *pissed* when one of them had tried to use magic on her, and unleashed a freaky white light show that had melted all their wands (and quite a number of nearby magical trinkets). A couple of them had even ended up screaming, clutching at their left forearms...
As for himself, he'd quickly realized that his original plan of simply going home to the good old U.S. of A had quite a few holes in it. Namely – no identification, no money, no place to stay, plus he was stranded six years in the past of another dimension – and every single person he knew, and billions more, had ended up dead.
It was therefore hardly any surprise that both he and Cordelia (once he'd explained to her what was going on) had cracked up – pretty badly – for quite a while.
It had taken a Mind Healer (which was kind of a weird label for a magical shrink, but hey, he'd heard worse in the past five years) several weeks to help him and Cordy deal with the situation, and try to move on with their lives.
They'd both found their own ways of coping – for example, Cordelia by utterly obliterating all the Dementoids she came across with her demon superpowers, while he'd accepted a job offer from Sirius, helping the former convict to hunt down and destroy the horcruxes made by Moldy Shorts.
Minor historical sidebar, but Xander just couldn't force himself to call the guy 'Tom' anymore, after he'd heard that *ridiculous* anagram of Tom Marvolo Riddle, and the whole You-Know-Who thing. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his suggestion of a new nickname You-Know-Perfectly-Well-Who-I'm-Talking-About hadn't proven very popular – apart from Harry and his five friends, anyway.
{ Kind of weird how those kids were sure that Cordelia and I were – what was the word they used? Squids? Squibs? Something like that, anyway – when they learned we could see magical places like this pub unaided, } Xander thought to himself, looking around the Leaky Cauldron. { No weirder than Fudge and all the rest of his people thinking that as well, of course. }
He briefly wondered what that disgraced politician was up to nowadays, before dismissing the thought – Fudge had resigned and vanished almost immediately after calling for the election of a new Minister, which Amelia Bones had won after Dumbledore had convinced her to run for the job. The new woman in charge had then given the new top cop (some guy named Shake A Bolt, or something like that) special powers to hunt down all of the bad guys, and to throw away the rule book while he was at it.
Xander hadn't been involved in that, as he and Black had been busy looking for those soul anchor thingies all across the country (after Sirius had been publicly exonerated), but he'd heard how the purges had been extremely, almost terrifyingly, effective. Truth serum, checking the left forearm of any suspect regardless of their wealth or status, even that whole magical mind-reading thing – pleading mind control, and/or attempting to bribe their way out of trouble, hadn't worked for the black hats this time around. They were all given a trial, and then either thrown into that Ass-kibosh prison or through the Stargate Veil, depending on the severity of their crimes.
Needless to say, any Ministry support for Moldy Shorts and his cause had dried up real quick – and by the time most of his phylacteries (the ring, the locket, the diadem, the cup, and the snake named Nagini) were history, so were his chances of taking over the country.
Oh, sure, the news that Harry himself was a Horcrux was a something of a game changer – but, luckily, that Hermione girl had been smart enough to figure out a solution to that. Namely, that cutting Harry's head open at the site of his lightning bolt scar, and removing that part of his cranium (all the way down to the last fragment of skull bone) and substituting a metal plate, instead, meant that nobody would have to kill the poor kid in order to get rid of Moldy Shorts for good.
Xander had to admit, he *still* didn't know how Dumbledore had trapped that black cloud into what looked like an Orb of Thesulah before Harry had tossed it through the Stargate Veil. But it probably had something to do with that prophecy he'd heard about –
"Sorry I'm late, Dorkhead," Cordelia's familiar voice impacted on Xander's consciousness, before he turned around and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Hope you didn't get too bored waiting for me?"
"Nah. Not much, anyway," Xander shrugged. "Besides, nobody else has shown up yet. Not even Sirius or Remus –"
"Speaking of the British version of Oz, what's his story? I mean, *why* hasn't he asked that Tonks person out on a date yet?" Cordelia wanted to know, as she dragged him over to a nearby table. "What, is he blind or something? That girl's been sending signals his way for *years* now!"
"Naw, it's not that, it's just – well, unlike back on the Hellmouth, around here – werewolves are second-class citizens, if not Dark creatures, depending on who you ask," Xander shrugged. "Plus, he's older than her – so I'm guessing the guy is simply trying not to ruin her life, and her career as a magical cop, by getting involved with someone like him."
"Men!" Cordelia snorted, contempt for his gender oozing from every pore as she added, "You're all – what's the word they use in this country? Prat? Dunderhead?"
"You've been talking to that magical chemistry teacher Harry and all his friends hate, I can tell," Xander smirked back at her. "And I prefer arse, myself. Close enough to ass for rock and roll, anyway."
"Still kinda hard for me to believe how that Sirius Black guy eventually got himself a teaching position at that school, Hog's Warts – or whatever its name is," Cordelia sniffed, as he opened his mouth to correct her on the pronunciation. "I mean, that guy teaching magical self-defense? Almost as bad an idea as those two friends of the so-called Chosen One having kids so young in life!"
"Well, way I heard it, it wasn't exactly Ron and Hermione's fault they got hit with that love potion that was aimed at Harry back then," Xander shrugged. "Besides, it didn't impact their education that much – and both sets of grandparents pretty much adore the twins Hermione gave birth to, from what Sirius tells me. Wouldn't be surprised if Harry and Ginny, plus Neville and Luna, decide to follow their example, get married and have kids of their own pretty soon..."
"I swear, that Luna girl – I can't decide if she's nuts, or else a Seer of some sort, like me," Cordelia shook her head. "I'll never forget the way she called you 'Mister Zeppo Harris', the first time we met her!"
"Luna's Luna, and I've learned not to take everything she says to me as an insult," Xander shrugged, before his shoulders sagged. "She actually reminds me of Anya – a lot, to be honest. She's like Ahn probably was over a thousand years ago, before the whole demon makeover thing."
Cordelia resisted the urge to badmouth the woman in question, given that it was pointless to speak ill of the dead and there was nothing to be gained from antagonizing her newly reclaimed boyfriend, either. "You still miss the old Sunnydale crowd, huh? Just like I still miss my family in Los Angeles..."
"Yeah, I miss them. Hey, you know as well as I do how no one we knew there exists here – and I've given up hope that Dawn somehow survived what Willow did due to her Key-ness, and that she might make her way to this reality. It sucks, all of it. Still, you remember what that Mind Healer told us – keep the memories but move on, or the odds are you'll go completely insane," Xander sighed. "And I know she's right, but sometimes – well, sometimes –"
"It's just not that easy. Especially with regards to Willow," Cordelia shook her head. "I *still* can't believe that part of it, y'know. I honestly can't help wondering if that demon was just messing with your mind, with what he showed you that day!"
"Sweet? No... I don't think so," Xander frowned. "I mean, yeah, at the time, I thought that as well; but fact is I'd gotten him so pissed by then, he just wanted to get rid of me, once and for all. No point or need for lies. Me, what I can't help wonder about is whether Gaea really was looking out for me, ever since Tara begged her for help that night in the Bronze – and whether it was that goddess who brought you here, somehow, after our reality went kablooey."
Cordelia was quiet for a while – Xander knew how that was a very uncomfortable concept for her to try to wrap her head around. Survivor's guilt was hard enough to cope with, without wondering whether Dead Boy and the rest of Cordy's friends and family had deliberately been left behind to die. Then she straightened up and said, "No, I don't think so. I don't know *what* happened after that Skip guy demonized me on the astral plane, those missing four months before I joined you here in this world – but divine intervention? Nope. Not buying that one, at least where I'm concerned."
The brunette frowned. "As for you, though? Could be, Dorkhead. Like you said, you'd gotten that so-called Lord of the Dance so mad at the end, he wouldn't have lied to you about that. And I have to admit, the way our lives have turned out since the first day we met Buffy Summers? It's kinda comforting, the idea that someone Up There is actively watching out for our best interests."
Xander smiled at her. He had long thought the same thing – and in the spirit of paying it forward, looking out for the poor huddled masses... even though this wasn't their world, it was similar enough that a few anonymous phone calls to the American Embassy here in London had managed to prevent some famous disasters during the Nineties from ever occurring. He could only hope that his most recent warning about 9/11 would likewise be heeded, a few months from now –
"Oh, here they are – finally," Cordelia's voice against distracted him from his thoughts, as Xander caught sight of Sirius, Remus, the so-called Ministry Six, and even the Granger-Weasley kids – Rose and Hugo. "Happy five-year anniversary, Harris."
"Happy anniversary to you too, Cor," Xander smiled, just before they were swarmed by the British types. "And just so you know – if there's anyone I'd choose to celebrate the joys of today, the memories of yesterday, and the hopes of tomorrow with, here in this world? It's you, and no other."
"Flatterer," she smirked. "And just for that? We may not be living in Orlando, but you're definitely going to the Magic Kingdom tonight!"
FINIS (for now)