Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

Authors Note: Thanks to irat and pottersparky for reviewing. Any sort of feedback you, my readers, can give me would be great as this is my first story on here.


The Watcher's Apprentice

Chapter One: Goodbye Michael

Ten year old Harry couldn't believe his luck. There, on the pavement in front of him, was a wallet. Slowly, almost not believing it was true, he picked it up with dirty hands. He whistled softly as he opened it. It was heavy with change and contained two twenty pound notes and a credit card. Not able to use it, Harry pulled the card out and threw it on the pavement.

Harry emptied some of the change into his grubby hands. He ran to the newsagents he had found four years ago with his only friend, Michael, and bought a sandwich. He was glad the shopkeeper never asked where he got his money from, as Harry thought it was pretty obvious he didn't have much of a home. Every so often, when he had a clearout, Michael would bring him some clothes, which Harry was very thankful for, but Michael was five years older than him, so his clothes were always much too big. Plus there was the fact that Harry was small for his age anyway because he didn't exactly have the best meals. Whenever he could, Michael brought him some food too, and if he was left at home for the day, he let Harry use his bath, but despite everything that he could do for Harry, he couldn't give Harry a home.

Michael lived with his mum; about one minute's walk away from Harry's alley. Apparently his mum brought home a different man every two weeks. They lived on benefits (Michael had explained to Harry that the government gave money to people who couldn't find a job) and although they didn't have much, they had each other and they had a home. For Harry, Michael was a lifeline, but Harry knew that to Michael he was nothing more than an afterthought who he helped when he could.

As Harry was walking back to his alley, clutching his sandwich, the subject of his thoughts ran smack into him.

"Oof," grunted Michael. "Oh, hey Harry. Sorry. Din't see you there. Whatcha got?"

"Bacon sarny," said Harry around his mouthful. "You'll never guess wha' I found."

"What?"

"A wallet on the floor, said Harry. "Wiv loadsa money in it."

"Yeah, sure. Just on the floor," said Michael, nodding slowly. "Look, Harry. I know you hav'ta steal sometimes. You don't hav'ta hide it from me."

"I'm not hidin' nuffin'. Really. It was jus' sittin' on the ground," said Harry earnestly.

"What'd it have in it?"

"Forty quid!" said Harry excitedly.

"Wow," said Michael. "Talk about lucky."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, I gotta get back," said Michael. "Greg's a bit obsessed with punctuality." Greg was his mum's current man.

"You're usin' long fancy words ag'in."

"When you're punctual you're on time," explained Michael. "Anyway, gotta run!"

Michael ran off, leaving Harry to wander the streets.

0o0o0o0

After attempting to take a drink from his empty cup of tea for the fourth time, Giles decided it was time for a break from his work. He grabbed his coat, and set out for nowhere in particular. He didn't know London like he knew Oxford, and so he decided to head for Hyde Park, one of the few places he knew how to get to from his apartment.

It was a hot, sunny day so many people had laid out blankets and were having picnics at the park. Giles watched a small boy from his table at a small tea shop across the road from the large field. The boy was walking slowly across the field, meandering between the blankets and makeshift football games going on. The boy was wearing worn out clothes several sizes too big for him, and was altogether very scruffy and dirty. He had jet black hair which hung messily in front of his eyes and reached to his chin. Giles would normally have labelled him as one of those poor children without a home, put a couple of pounds in a collection tin for the homeless and gone on his way, but he was drawn to this child. Watchers were taught to tell their Slayer to trust her instincts, so Giles decided to take some of his own medicine. He watched the boy closely, and when he came closer, he beckoned him over.

"Yes, sir?" asked the boy.

"What's your name?"

"Harry," said the boy.

"I'm Rupert Giles, but you can just call me Giles." Harry nodded, obviously wondering where this was going.

Giles could think of no delicate way to ask the question, so he came out with: "Do you have a home?"

"No sir," Harry said. "I jus' live in a lil alley off of Desmond Road."

Giles had no idea where Desmond Road was, but he was drawn to this boy so strongly, that he felt he had to offer him a better home.

"I know this will sound very odd, coming from a complete stranger, but would you like a home?"

"You gonna put me in some orph'nige or summin?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"Not exactly. It's a kind of school."

"I aint bin ta school in ages. I can 'ardly read even though I'm ten."

"We can help!" said Giles. "It's not really a school, just like one. It might be easier if we explained this back at my flat."

Giles led the boy to his flat and sat him on the low sofa. As the boy looked up, and his hair fell away from his face, he saw a jagged lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Not wanting to make Harry feel any more uncomfortable than Giles was certain he was already feeling, he ignored it and went on.

"I don't know why, but when I saw you today I was…drawn to you," he explained. "Not in a weird way," he added, seeing Harry's face, "but I know that there's something different about you, and I think you'd be a great help to the Watcher's Council."

Harry was about to ask a question, but Giles held up a hand to stop him.

"To explain what the Watcher's Council is, I need to go slightly off track," said Giles, starting his speech. "Once unto every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, the forces of darkness, and to help the Slayer in her duties is her Watcher, provided by the Watcher's Council."

"Vampires are real?" asked Harry in disbelief.

"I'm afraid so," answered Giles. "And if you'll let me, I can take you to Oxford to the Watcher's Council. There they can teach you, and train you, to help the fight against the forces of darkness."

"I thought you said that the Slayer was always a girl?"

"She is, and the current slayer lives in Japan, but you have…something."

Harry mumbled something.

"Pardon?"

"I said that I think I can do magic."

Now, Giles had dabbled in magic rituals in his university days, and he knew what devastating things magic could do. But why would he have been drawn to this boy if he was evil? And since when were small boys evil?

"Can you show me?"

Instead of answering, Harry concentrated and then suddenly disappeared. He reappeared the other side of the sofa instantaneously, with a small sound – a cross between a crack and a pop.

If Giles had been drinking he would have choked. That was so much better than the sort of magic he used to do.

"Yes," he said, in a slightly high pitched voice. "You'll definitely be a lot of help to the Watcher's Council."

0o0o0o0

"Michael!" Harry called from below his friend's bedroom window. "Michael!"

"Harry?" asked a voice. The window slid up and open. Michael's head poked out. "What choo doin' here?"

"I've come to say bye!"

"Wha'? Why? Where are you going?"

"Oxford."

"For how long?"

"Dunno. A long time. Months, maybe years."

"Why?"

"A man took me off the street an' said 'e could take me ta school in Oxford."

"Why would a man take you off the street an' take you ta school in Oxford?"

Harry just shrugged. "Well, bye then," he said.

"Now you wait just a minute!" said Michael, scrambling from the window. Harry stood still, waiting. Soon the front door opened and Michael ran out. He took Harry by surprise when he hugged him.

"You know, you'll come back all posh an' smart," said the older boy, jokingly. "That's where all the clever people go, Oxford is."

"But I can't read!"

"Don't matter. They'll teach you. An' a load better than I could."

0o0o0o0

Oxford was a beautiful place. The centre of the town was full of old buildings with beautiful architecture, and the colleges Giles and Harry passed were even nicer. Harry looked out the window the whole way – it had been years since he had been in a car. They stopped outside a house at the corner of a terrace, and Giles manoeuvred the car to fit it in the only roadside parking space left.

Apparently Giles had telephoned the Council earlier, so they were expected, but instead of calming Harry's nerves, it heightened them. Harry tagged along behind Giles as they went up the five steps to the front door. Bronze numbers on the door proclaimed the house to be number twelve 'b'. How more cliché could you get? Harry thought. Giles really lived at number thirteen. Harry became even more nervous when Giles rang the bell, which was an old fashioned pull chain rather than a button. After a minute, a young woman answered the door. She had long brown hair pulled back into a straight ponytail, and she looked quite young.

"Is this him?" she asked, indicating Harry.

"Yes," Giles nodded.

She stepped aside to let them through into the hall. "Arthur Jacobs will see you in his study," she said to Giles, "and Harry, you can wait with me."

Harry and the woman, who introduced herself as Katherine, went into a fancy sitting room, and sat down in Edwardian style armchairs, where she offered him tea and biscuits, and started chattering about his schooling. Apparently, the Watcher's Council had it all sorted out already. Harry had to admit he was impressed at their efficiency, even though he didn't particularly want to be schooled.

"…and so we've arranged it all," Katherine was saying. "I'll help you with reading and writing, Giles will do sports and maths, James will do history and languages with you, and I think Mr Jacobs will be doing science, but he hasn't actually said yes yet."

"Wait, wait," said Harry. "Who are all these people?"

"Were you not listening at all?" she asked, annoyed.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Bu'only the end."

Katherine sighed irritably. "We're all Watchers. When the old Watcher dies or retires, a new Watcher is chosen to take his or her place. There are places like this house all over Britain, in fact all over the world, though just because you live in the country of the new Slayer doesn't give you more of a chance of being chosen."

Harry nodded. "So am I being trained to be a Watcher too?"

Katherine looked at him closely. "I'm not sure. Our instructions were to train you as if you were, but whether that will go on to be your career is not yet decided. These things usually run in families."

They had arrived in the early evening, so soon Harry and Katherine joined Giles and a slightly chubby, blonde man who Harry assumed was Mr Jacobs, in the dining room. The table was large, and could have seated ten, so they all sat clustered around one end. One wall was completely covered in a bookcase, full of old, thick tombs. The room was decorated in the same sort of Edwardian style as the sitting room, and the two men in their tweed suits fitted in nicely. Katherine, who was wearing a modern trouser suit, and Harry, in his worn out jeans, looked more than slightly out of place.

The food itself was a normal meal, nothing fancy, just steak and kidney pie with a few vegetables, but Harry hadn't eaten that much in a very long time. He could barely manage three quarters of it until he was full enough to burst.

Mr Jacobs looked a stern man, but he was actually quite friendly, if a bit too formal. He sat opposite Harry, and asked him what he knew of science. Harry racked his brains, and talked about what he could remember of magnets, friction and gravity, whilst Mr Jacobs nodded along. He seemed the sort of man who took notes at every opportunity, and only wasn't taking them then because to write at the dinner table would have been rude.

After dinner, Harry was instructed to have a bath. While he washed himself, Katherine went out to a nearby clothes shop and bought him some pyjamas. He tried them on, and while they were slightly big, they fitted better than anything he had ever worn. His other clothes were put in the wash overnight, as he had to wear them in the morning while they went shopping for others. He attempted to brush his unruly chin-length hair, but had to give up. Even Katherine only dragged the comb through a few times until she declared it a lost cause. She did see his scar though. It was a part of him which he both loved and hated – it was the only connection he had with his parents, as he had got it the night they died in a car crash, but it also brought too much unwanted attention. Harry quickly explained how he had got it to Katherine who hugged him tightly for no reason at all.

Harry's bedroom was on the top floor (the house had four – ground, first, second and third) and was almost an attic room. As he was led up there (again, by Katherine) he wondered what the other rooms were for. Each floor had four rooms, and he assumed that each floor had one bathroom. That meant that there were nine bedrooms, whereas only five people lived there. At least, Harry guessed that James lived there too, even though he hadn't actually seen him.

Harry's room was rather plain, but he was told that he could decorate it how he liked (within reason). It contained only a bunk bed, a wardrobe, a cupboard and two desks and chairs. It had a wooden floor and cream wallpaper. Because it was really in the roof, the single window was slanted and during the day half the room would always be in shadow.

"Katherine?" asked Harry.

"Hmm?"

"Why's there two of ev'rything?"

"Just in case we need two people to sleep in one room, but don't worry, this is just your room for quite a while."

Harry nodded, and she left the room for him to go to sleep.