Disclaimer: See chapter 1 (Spoiler, I own nothing in this story)

Harry had had a long, difficult day. The classes had gotten exponentially difficult with OWLS this year, and the shrew of a defense teacher had made him scar his hand in his farce of a detention. Luckily, what awaited him would cheer him up. In his bed lay Cho, Susan, Hannah, Katie, Lavender, and Fleur, all naked and intertwined, evidently not waiting for him to show up.

"Harry…" It was Cho's mouth that moved, but oddly enough, it was Ron's voice that he heard. The girls continued their fun.

"Harry, wake up." This time it was Lavender that spoke, but still with Ron's voice. The girls started using their wands.

"Mr. Potter, you have a guest." Professor McGonagall's stern voice jerked Harry awake, away from one of his more favorite dreams. His hand still stung from the 'lines' he had written last night as part of his detention, and his pajama pants were uncomfortably tight. Looking at his clock on the desk, he saw it was just after 6:30 in the morning. Harry silently cursed whatever force had torn him from his sleep and his wonderful dream.

"I'll be right down." Professor McGonagall didn't have her angry face on, so whoever his guest was, it probably wasn't anyone from the ministry or anyone bad. Ron stood by his dresser, picking out what he would wear under his robe for the day. The professor nodded her head, and left the dormitory without another word. Harry groaned in frustration.

"I tried to wake you, mate, but McGonagall followed me up." Ron apologized. Harry thought to ask why his mate would be in the common room this early, but decided to take the opportunity to get dressed without embarrassing himself. He hadn't even been on a date before, he didn't count the Yule Ball since it was an unmitigated disaster, so his fantasies were all he had, romantically speaking.

The two dressed in silence, the other occupants still sleeping soundly. Once they were both ready, they descended to the common room to find Hermione already waiting with McGonagall.

"The headmaster has hired a new professor for History of Magic, who also happens to be the new Lord Black. Nothing has happened to your godfather, Mr. Potter, but if you want the details you will have to ask him. He has asked to speak with Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, but I informed him that Mr. Weasley will be accompanying you two as well, since you three are inseparable. Lord Black had no objections." Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I urge caution around Lord Black. While Sirius is our ally, the Blacks were not known for the . . . open-mindedness Sirius has. Be wary."

Harry nodded, along with his friends, and they proceeded towards one of the empty classrooms on the second floor. McGonagall stopped in front of the door and made a request. "While Lord Black's hire is not a secret, I would advise you not to spread the information of his new professorship to your peers. He still has a few technicalities he needs to pass, and I would prefer if certain teachers were unable to interfere. The official announcement should happen by the end of the week." Hermione nodded immediately, and a phantom sting from Harry's hand let him know exactly who the Professor wanted to keep in the dark. If it would annoy Umbridge, Harry would eat one of Hagrid's rock cakes. He had kept bigger secrets for longer.

"We understand, Professor," Hermione responded for the trio. When McGonagall nodded in thanks and started leaving, Hermione asked, "Won't you be joining us?"

"I cannot. Lord Black has invoked Family Business." She continued walking and turned the corner, leaving the three alone.

From his friend's expressions, Family Business was something important, but he had no clue what it meant. "Umm, is that something I should be concerned about?"

"Of course not Harry, but it is unusual," Hermione lectured. "Once used, no witch or wizard would dare interfere or try to listen in to the business for fear of a blood feud at the least and extermination at the worst. Invoking Family Business frivolously is social taboo, too, so whatever this is, is likely important."

When she took a breath to continue explaining to Harry, since Ron's face showed he knew about it already, a deep voice sounded from the slightly open room.

"All correct, but sometimes expectations and taboos must be broken if the circumstances are dire enough. Why don't you all come in, and we can talk about why I asked to meet you." Upon entering the room carefully, the so called Golden Trio beheld a tall, dark-haired man with a lopsided grin and a blindingly-bright Hawaiian print robe that put anything Dumbledore had to shame.

"I'm Lord Alexander Black, but you can call me Xander."

He would kill him. He would take him outside, beat him with a stick, punch him repeatedly in the face, and then tell Buffy that Sirius Black had stolen a pair of her shoes. That would teach him to mess with his sleep. Xander knew that Sirius' offer of a Jet Lag charm was too friendly, but he was tired and hadn't thought it all the way through before accepting. It was designed to adjust his internal clock to match the new time zone he traveled to, but Sirius "accidentally" set him to Russian time, making him wake up at 5:00 am and not the 8:00am that he wanted. Worse yet, he was exhausted, but couldn't fall back asleep. Sirius was in hiding, and he was half tempted to call for Kreacher to wreak havoc on his Uncle.

Since he couldn't sleep, Xander decided to head to Hogwarts early, to look around and to take care of his two conversations. Armed with the letter from Sirius, a few last minute study guides, and his usual emergency travel pack, he left his home and portkeyed to Hogsmead once again, landing him on the opposite side of the village from the castle. Traveling was just as bad as the first time. Instead of a closed gate, though, an older aged stern looking woman stood waiting behind the opened entrance. Hard eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor spoke volumes to Xander, mostly saying "Don't Mess with Her". He walked towards her and the gates when she spoke in a thick Scottish brogue that Xander had trouble understanding.

"Lord Black, when the Headmaster told me you would be arriving in the morning, I didn't think it would be this early. When the wards notified me of your arrival, I thought it must have been a mistake."

So his plan to arrive early without notice wasn't entirely without flaws, so much for the early bird. But he had business that needed to be handled before his tests, so oh well. "I apologize for disturbing you, Ma'am. I was not aware that my arrival would wake you." His apology was cut short.

"The headmaster set up the alert. He was out of the castle last night, and wanted to make sure you had a proper escort." Thus began Xander's introduction to Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and teacher of Transfiguration. She seemed like the teacher that would stay extra-long hours to help a struggling student, but woe to whoever wasted her time by not giving a full effort. She scared him, slightly, but he would endeavor to earn her respect. Xander considered it a real shame he never had such a teacher during his time at Sunnydale High. Which, when Xander thought about it, was an excellent motivational tool for her to use. At least his custom robes got a slight smile out of her, he'd have to thank Kreacher for them.

After some pleasantries and conversation, in which the third student Xander heard about from Daphne, Ronald Weasley, was mentioned, Minerva dumped him in an empty classroom and ordered him to stay put. She was polite about it, but he had listened to Cordelia talk about fashion with less authority than the older woman did about what he should do. While he waited for them to arrive, Xander ideally looked around and tried to decide what his classroom would look like when he taught. Maybe he should ask his old girlfriend what style goes well with medieval castle, she would know if anyone did.

He finished up the last minute studying he had brought with him, copies of the syllabus' and the practice test for the Magical History Competency Exam. He was fairly certain he was going to ace it, and Xander was not a person who had attained an A often. Actually, he never had. The Hogwarts curriculum was rather narrow, unfortunately, but at least that would give him a good place to start teaching. He closed his books and reached with the Force when he heard voices approach.

"Of course not Harry, but it is unusual. Once used, no witch or wizard would dare interfere or try to listen in to the business for fear of a blood feud at the least and extermination at the worst. Invoking Family Business frivolously is social taboo, too, so whatever this is, is important." Whoever she was, she had the Willow Lecture Voice perfected in a British accent model. While he could keep on listening, he wanted to get this over with before more students woke up. Minerva was right, something was amiss with the school staff, he could feel the unbalance in the Force. He spoke up, mixing his Cordelia Persona with his Real Persona, and how messed up when he not only had those personas, but referred to them as that as well.

"All correct, but sometimes those expectations and taboos must be broken if the circumstances say so. Why don't you all come in, and we can talk about why I asked to meet you." He had survived by defying those expectations, Buffy's continued pulse was proof of that, and from what heard these kids needed all the help with survival they could get. When they entered, Xander decided to start things off with a flourish and a bow.

"I'm Lord Alexander Black, but you can call me Xander." His robes did their job perfectly. While the three were gawking at his extreme color choices, he was able to study their reactions, both visually and with the Force.

In the middle was Harry Potter, scar on head, scrawny but getting some mass on him, standing slightly apart from any physical contact. His eyes, obscured slightly by his glasses, held uncertainty and anger at the world. He had a burden of destiny to him, and a severe desire to just be 'normal'. Xander had seen that sense of Destiny before, it was all too familiar too him. What he saw reflected in Harry's eyes having been reflected in Buffy's not so very long ago.

To Harry's right was a lanky redhead, who must have been Ronald Weasley. He mostly looked tired, but more from a hard workout than lack of sleep. His callouses indicated he was no stranger to manual labor, unusual for someone born to a magical family. Stretching out toward with the Force, Ronald wanted to be noticed and to be different; to distinguish himself from his brothers and be his own man who his mother and father could be proud of, with indications of some severe emotional baggage. Xander would look into the magical equivalent of a psychologist when he got a chance, another thing on a very long list of things to do. Even with that, Ron was a thinker when he wasn't being driven by his emotions, though they could sure color his judgement when they were in charge.

Lastly was Hermione Granger, standing on the other side of Harry, protective like a mother wolf. She had vast reservoirs of potential, not just magical but mental. His first comparison to Willow was dead on, she lusted after knowledge at any cost. Also, she was drop dead gorgeous. Physically she was beautiful, sporting the attributes that guys looked for, but with the assistance of the Force he saw her soul was stunning as well. She was fierce, independent, loyal, and intelligent. If she was a few years older, Xander wouldn't hesitate to ask her out, but seeing as she would be his student soon, he clamped down on his libido. Since they were still staring at his clothes, perhaps Kreacher had created a masterpiece that was a bit too effective, Xander decided to restart the conversation.

"Hermione Granger, I have some Family Business to discuss with you, concerning your actions towards a certain newspaper reporter that bugs you. Do you wish for your friends to stay?" Since she was so familiar with wizarding customs, he would need to follow the proper protocols. Her eyes narrowed in slight anger, indicating that she got his hint.

"They know about Rita, they can stay. What does she have to do with you or House Black?" While she certainly knew about the custom of Family Business, she lacked experience with it, since she ignored the protocols required. Either she was ignorant, which would mean Xander following the rules was pointless, or she didn't care about them, thus meaning it was a thinly veiled insult, which would mean that Xander could drop the rules as well. From Ron's reaction, he knew that she had broken the customary response as well. He was as white as a sheet as he looked at Hermione with wide horrified eyes.

"If you want. She's now an employee of House Black, and you are blackmailing her. Therefore, you are blackmailing House Black. As Lord Black, I can't let that happen anymore." He was starting off strong, but if she was anything like Willow she would get flustered by it, letting him negotiate easier. He wasn't expecting her rant, though, and neither were her friends.

"That horrible cretin is a lying sack of dung that deserves to rot in a jail cell. What you call blackmail is actually a service to humanity, keeping her fake stories from the public will prevent everyone who reads the Prophet from making the wrong impression. Even when she doesn't write, Rita's lies still harm her targets. She doesn't care about the truth, only making the best story. I got sent hate mail because of her, some of which was poisoned to give me boils. Harry was portrayed as an unstable attention seeking boy, a lie the Prophet still prints!" Hermione snapped.

Xander could tell she was just warming up, best to cut it off early and give her a chance to calm down a tiny bit. He turned to Ron, and hoped his first impression was accurate. Xander turned to Ron in an obvious manner meant to dismiss Hermione before she could pick up steam, giving the impression of ignoring the other two.

"What uses can you think of for someone of Rita's. . . I would say talents but that seems wrong. Let's say skills. What could Rita do for you?" Hermione's huff told Xander she was not happy about being so casually dismissed or ignored, but she didn't continue. Harry was silent, probably still trying to wake up. Ron jumped at being singled out, but he was thinking about the question.

"She could run a few articles about the Death Eaters, about Umbridge, about the truth of what's going on here at the school. If she didn't stab us in the bloody back. Her readers still trust her name, so if we got her to say that you know who is back, they would at least begin to think about it. The problem would be getting her to write those articles, and getting them published." Ron continued to think about the possibilities as Xander turned to face Harry.

"Harry, I've heard your life has sucked so far. As someone with practical experience with sucky lives, know that life will continue to suck for a long, long time. But having friends around you will make it suck less. Is Voldemort back?" Xander looked Harry directly in the eyes, using the Force to sense any deception from Harry. He sensed none.

"He is, I saw him get a new body and his death eaters come back to him. He's alive and starting to build up his forces." Anger seemed to be a theme with these three, especially Harry, but Xander reminded himself that they were still 15. He was angry a lot when he was 15…like when he staked Jessie and learned of what went bump in the night. They didn't have his Jedi training nor his maturity and emotional control, not that he had much of the latter two. Even though he was only a few years older, Xander felt much older than that due to all the things he had witnessed and endured.

"I believe you." These words amazed the youth, they probably hadn't thought he would. "Your godfather gave me a letter for you."

He handed the letter out to him, but Hermione snatched it out of his hands before Harry could get to it.

Ignoring Harry's "Hey", she ran her wand over the envelope, muttering some spells. Xander caught the poison detection spell and the tampering detection spell, but other twenty spells he had no clue about. She was sharp, this one, and definitely looking out for her friend. Xander idly wondered what Harry must have done to have earned such fierce loyalty. When it obviously passed her muster, she passed it off to an eager Harry, who ripped into it like a vamp into a co-ed. Hermione, unlike Ron, ignored the letter and glared at Xander defiantly. It took a few seconds, but Xander broke the silence.

"I don't trust Rita to tell the truth, I don't trust her to stick to what she is told. What I do trust her to do is look out for her best interests. I trust her to be sneaky, underhanded, and ruthless in the pursuit of her stories. With the lure of a very generous salary and access to my resources, I direct where she finds her stories. I hired her as my press secretary, not because she was ethical, but because she knows the worst side of the press, and can navigate it better than anyone else. She is a tool, one I need, but one that knows she will be crushed if she betrays me. You gave her a taste of what obscurity was like, I brought her back into the limelight. She won't do anything to jeopardize that attention. I already have her working on a special project, getting a certain man a trial for crimes allegedly committed a decade ago, and she is doing an excellent job at it. Today's Prophet should be covering it in rich detail." By this time, Harry's groan in frustration, and admiration at a prank well played, told Xander he had finished. He knew it would take Harry a few minutes to digest the information, so he pulled out his study notes again for a quick review. His high school self would be appalled, but his high school self didn't have Goblin rebellions to read about. Hermione took the letter to read for herself.

"Why isn't Sirius Head of House Black?" The first question came from Harry, a minute before Xander expected it. The boy must be quicker at processing new information than most fifteen year olds.

"My father was Regulus Black, who was the heir to the Head of our House. Sirius was kicked out of the house when he was younger due to 'rebelling against the family', something I can't reverse until his trial goes through and he is found innocent, and so when my father died I inherited the title from him, but my Mother held it for a time as Madam Regent until I came of age. But she…died not long after he did. I was given full authority and power of House Black recently, though I have been preparing for it for longer. While I may reinstate Sirius back into the family, he will not be able to become Head, though any of his children may." Xander explained.

"Do you really think you can control Rita?" This time it was Hermione that asked. She seemed much more agreeable to the idea, but that stubborn streak remained underneath.

"Control, no. But I do believe I can direct her. If I tried to stop her from being her, she would do everything she could to get out. If I play to her nature, though, and let her loose on those who deserve it, she gets her fun and I get results. Add in a healthy dose of bribery and fear, and she will be as loyal as she can be," Xander honestly answered.

Hermione started asking several questions about what he would be teaching and what topics he planned to do, and Xander answered them to the best of his ability. He had been warned by Sirius that they would be curious, Hermione especially, but time was running short. Breakfast would be starting soon, and Xander had appearances to maintain to the rest of the school. Until everything was settled, he would be officially 'inspecting' the school as Lord of an Ancient and Noble House and a member of the Board of Governors.

"I know we just met, but if there is anything you need or anything you want help with, I'll be here for you. I know you've dealt with giant snakes and demons and all kinds of crap here at school, so chances are this year won't be any different. You are my uncle's godson, Harry, that makes you family to me, even if most in the Wizarding world would dismiss such a link. Whatever you need, I'll do what I can. After Rita is finished with Sirius, I'll have her start to repair the damage she did to your reputation last year. It shouldn't take too long. Right now, though, we need to go our separate ways to avoid suspicion. I'm sure we'll talk later, and I'll be able to answer your questions." Hermoine pouted cutely at being told she had to stop asking questions, but agreed. Ron and Harry looked less sure.

"He's right. We should head to the Hall for breakfast." As if waiting for Hermione's words, all three male stomachs started to rumble. Only Xander looked embarrassed about it. "Boys…"

Harry's mind was awhirl with questions he needed answers to. Sirius' letter, while welcome and helpful, just added more stress to his life. Who could he get to teach him politics? While he knew some of the girls he wanted to spend quality alone time with, if he actually needed to learn it would need to be someone he could concentrate with. Alliances was more difficult, he had no idea how to make friends, Hermione and Ron sort of fell into the position by accident. Lost in thought, he didn't see where he was going and ran right into someone, bowling them both over.

Scrambling to get up, with the help of Ron, Harry saw that he had knocked over none other than Draco Malfoy. His bookends helped him up. Draco twisted his face like he was going to throw one of his standard insults, but instead of saying anything, he looked at the letter he had gripped in his hand. Glancing from the letter to Harry a few times, Draco simply nodded his head toward Harry and said "Potter." With that single word uttered, Draco and company continued down the hallway.

Both Ron and Harry stood gobsmacked at Draco's lack of snark, insult, or curse-throwing. Hermione returned from her flanking position, a tactic the three had adopted last year, with a curious look.

"I wonder if Lord Black had anything to do with that," she said out loud to no one in particular.

"No clue, but that was bloody weird. I can't remember the last time he's said nothing to us." Ron answered anyways.

After the meeting, Minerva collected Xander, there was no other word for it, and took him to the Great Hall for some breakfast. She didn't escort him in; the sounds of magical fireworks going off in the distance forced her to choose between escorting her guest the last fifteen feet and stopping some shenanigans. Shenanigan stopping won out. With a hurried instruction to seat himself at the table, she glided off.

The hall was nearly empty, only a few students were awake at the crack of dawn, but one of them was Luna who seemed to be transfiguring bits of hash browns into flies and sending them towards the large table in front. Smiling, he headed over to her to join her for breakfast. He wondered what zany things she had to say. Unfortunately, Luna shook her head minutely in the negative, than pointed with her carrot towards a different, empty table. She gave him a smile and nodded encouragingly, letting him know she wasn't angry or annoyed at him, just that she wanted him to sit at a different table. Since he was a stranger in a strange land, he followed his instinct and Luna's instructions.

A golden plate appeared, with real silverware, filled with French toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs, waffles, bacon, and a beautiful golden Twinkie. Some elf down in the kitchens must really like him. Slowly, teachers and students wandered in, taking seats at what obviously was their Hogwarts house. When each student inevitably stared at his blindingly colorful robes, he was able to get a feel for them, who was good and who to watch out for. It was a habit Revan grilled into his head. When Daphne sat next to him, the first student to do so, he smiled at her and started making small talk while both ate, neither one mentioning his title or last name. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered soon afterwards, a shadow crossing the latter's expression when she saw that he sat at the Slytherin table. Then the mail arrived.

Seeing hundreds of owls swoop in at once was a majestic sight to behold, each carrying a letter or package in their talons. A very large, very grey owl swooped in with a rather large box and deposited it carefully in front of the eldest Greengrass.

"That's a big package," Xander commented idly.

"I wrote to my father about last night," Daphne responded truthfully and quietly so even her friend sitting next to her could not hear. "I asked him for some copies of the pending Black/Greengrass contracts so I would be better informed."

"Let me know if you find out anything interesting," Xander responded before eating another piece of perfectly cooked bacon. He froze with it halfway to his mouth when he remembered the goblins had said something about marriage contracts, and slowly eyed his new eating partner. Another thing to add to the list of things to do, check out the marriage contracts before he ended up wed to a minor. He also glanced at a copy of the Daily Prophet one of the other Slytherins had. It declared 11 DEAD 4 INJURED AS LORD BLACK DEFEATS AUSTRALIAN TERRORISTS IN DIAGON ALLEY and RE-TRIAL FOR SIRIUS BLACK . Knowing it was time to go before causing a bigger scene, Xander excused himself from the table before the questions could begin.

Not wanting to think about marriage contracts or the deaths yesterday right before a test, Xander noticed his golden plate had, on the face, the initials B.E.R. and the seal of House Black. The plate sank into the table and through the floor before Xander could investigate further. Shaking his head, he headed out to find Minerva or Dumbledore. He noticed the amount of talking increased significantly when he left the room. Seems like he was the hot topic of conversation, either because of his robes or because he was new, or both, or some other British or magic reason.

Maybe the Hawaiian print was a mistake.

Nah.

He looked at the various trophies, paintings, and architecture in the entrance hall, impressed by the quality and quantity there. The oldest thing in California was the various Spanish Missions, and even those only dated back a few centuries. The castle was much, much older than those, and much more impressive.

It was only a few minutes later that Minerva arrived, accompanied by a squat, toad-faced woman who reeked of the Dark Side; a twist of pure malevolent hatred hidden under a thin veneer of civility. With them was a man, about 35 years old, with a balding head and growing gut. His bag announced him Randolph Huckleberry, Senior Exam Proctor, Department of Education. The three were in the middle of a conversation.

"For the last time, Dolores, if you wish to know why Lord Black asked the Headmaster to take all the proficiency exams, you will have to ask himself or the Headmaster," a frustrated sounding Deputy Headmistress answered.

"Tut tut, that is simply unacceptable. As a representative of the Ministry, any deviation from scheduled plans should be authorized by me. I must have this information if I am to properly do my job." The pink clad woman made Xander's skin crawl and he almost lost his breakfast at how evil the Force perceived her to be.

"And what job is that? Head Narc?" Xander asked loudly, startling the two arguing women. Randolph didn't seem to be phased by anything. They whirled to face Xander, Minerva with a slight smirk, no doubt catching the meaning of the remark, and Dolores' disgust over Xander's robes was written all over her face. Xander knew that what was about to happen would be politically unwise, but he and the Force didn't care.

"I am the Under Secretary to the Minister himself, and appointed as the Defense against the Dark Arts professor to raise the abysmal quality of teaching at this institution. One hundred points from . . . whatever house you are in for your lack of respect and being out of uniform. Now move along before I put you in detention, you ungrateful spawn!" Dolores' shrieks had attracted some of the students who were leaving the dining hall, who stood within hearing distance of the commotion. The plan to keep Xander's true purpose here a secret seemed to be shot. Regardless, the Force begged Xander to take care of this monster, which he did with full Cordelia persona reinforced with all the Force he could use. He wished he could use his lightsaber on her and permanently remove her evil aura.

"How dare you!" Xander sneered. "I am no student. I am Lord Alexander Black, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, whose lineage is verified by goblin and magic alike. I hold a seat on the Wizengamot. I am on the Board of Governors of Hogwarts. I am also in the process of being questioned by Aurors for singlehandedly defeating fifteen terrorists just yesterday. And due to your rudeness and disrespect, I am reconsidering how much of my ridiculously full vault I was going to donate to Minister Fudge's re-election campaign. Perhaps before you start demanding answers, you should actually search for them yourself! Go on, go back to your Ministry and tell the Minister, your boss, how much you lost him with your thoughtless actions today. Go, and find the answers to your questions there." The room was silent. The walls and windows hummed with the power Xander wielded. No one dare speak, not a soul moved or breathed. All watched the exchange with a sense of nervous anticipation and growing fascination.

Xander stared at the woman with all the contempt he could muster. It was apparently very effective as several students squeaked and moved back away from him. Minerva seemed a bit rattled the sense of sheer power and rage emanating from the young man, not that she showed it beyond a slight widening of her eyes. He could hear the cackling electricity starting to spark around his hands, as the tension built. Everyone stood, mouths agape, and watched the stare down between the new guy and the universally despised Defense teacher.

Xander started to twitch his fingers, causing electricity to spark and snap between them. This seemed to snap Dolores out of whatever stupor Xander caused to come over everyone. With as much of her dignity she could gather, the toad backed away and exited the castle doors. Xander released the power he had held; sagging imperceptibly at the effort of holding that much of the Force. The cackling lightning and ambient energy caused by Xander was replaced with every student whispering about what just took place. It wouldn't be an hour before the whole school knew exactly what took place, even with only a dozen witnesses. He also noticed that during the confrontation, his once multicolored robe was now blood red. His magic must have changed it to suit his mood.

He was going to pay for his actions, somehow and in some manner. He just hoped the cost wasn't too high. It wasn't like he could have done much else.

"Well, Lord Black, it seems like our Defense teacher had a prior engagement. It seems like her classes will have to be cancelled until she returns. I also believe that Mr. Huckleberry is ready to administer your exams early. Follow me." Say what you will, the Scotswoman recovered quickly.

What followed was five hours of hell.

The first was the History of Magic proficiency exam, which was expected. And as expected Xander totally aced it…or did the wizarding version of that. Xander found out that the practice exam and the actual exam were identical, and he later found out that it had been that way for centuries. Since no one ever attempted to replace Binns, no one at the Ministry attempted to change it in the last 200 years. That alone had disturbing implications on just how much value the Wizarding world placed on its history.

The torture didn't stop there, though.

He had exams in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Herbology. When the evil taskmaster known as Huckleberry was finished, Xander was tired, sore, and mentally exhausted. Worst of all, he had to still visit Andromeda today, like he promised. He would push Narcissa off for tomorrow. After saying his farewells to Minerva and a grudging goodbye to Huckleberry, Xander left to return to Grimmauld Place to shower, change, and prepare for meeting one of the formerly Black sisters on her home territory.