Title: Inside Down, Upside Out
Author: Becka
Chapter 1: Kindled
o
Xander yawned, watching the trees and houses blend into a giant blur. Train-rides had a nasty tendency to bore him, and slowly he closed his eye, content to simply listen to Giles and Willow talk.
"So, like, we own a house here?" Willow's voice was an excited squeak.
Giles sighed and there was a pause in which Xander just _knew_ he was polishing his glasses. "I've told you all of this before, Willow. As a small gesture of the Council's gratitude for our years of assistance in saving the world, and their joy for having hundreds of Slayers, they have allotted each of us a small estate as well as a small fortune in each of our bank accounts. So," the Englishman said softly, "We don't own a house. We _each_ own an estate, as well as the means to retire comfortably for the rest of our lives."
Willow squealed, "Coolness!"
The Englishman laughed, "To put it mildly. This particular house is mine, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing it. All of our estates are located just outside of London, so we can stop by and see both yours and Xander's if you'd like."
"_So_ liking."
They chatted a bit longer about the estates when finally Willow whispered, "I think he's asleep."
"It appears so," Giles replied softly.
/Score!/ Xander thought.
"Do you think this is going to work? I mean, I don't want him to feel like we're leading him on or anything," the concern in the redhead's voice was evident.
"I've heard there are more wizards in England than the rest of the world combined, Willow." The Watcher sighed, "If we can't help him restore his eye, there must be someone here who can. And I don't care how long it takes - we _will_ find them."
Xander resisted the urge to sigh himself. It had been sometime last week that Willow had finally given up on trying to restore his eye, and rather than admit defeat, she'd cooked up some hare-brained notion about traveling to England and searching for a cure there. Surprisingly, Giles had not only approved of the idea, but had offered to arrange the trip, as well as accompany them.
Not wanting to appear ungrateful, Xander had agreed. He figured it best not to mention that even if they _did_ find some sort of cure, he wasn't interested in the least. It was one of the things he willingly gave up when he realized what he was, and it balanced him: one normal, mortal eye to see the physical world, and one extraordinary, spiritual eye to see the ethereal world. It was a fair trade-off.
Willow didn't know about that, though. Informing her, or anyone, of what he was would be stupid, and would ultimately lead to consequences he simply wasn't prepared to deal with.
So he let her try to cure him. It would never work, and it made her feel better, so what was the harm?
He let his mind wander away from the conversation which had turned to spell ingredients and magical reagents, the sort of things that Xander hadn't a clue about, and decided to enjoy his time in England. He'd never been anywhere outside of the States before, and even if they were here "on business," he promised himself that he'd have a good time.
o
The three of them stared with wide eyes at the towering mansion that _was_ Giles' "estate." It was eerily beautiful, and looked to have been built at least one hundred years beforehand. The area around the estate consisted of at least three acres on all sides, with gorgeous flowerbeds and trees and a system of stone walkways for anyone to stroll. It looked like something out of a fairytale.
Apparently, the Council had forgotten to tell Giles his estate also came with servants - they passed several gardeners on the way in, and a butler greeted them at the door. When asked, the butler - Jeremy - promptly responded that there were three maids, two handymen, and an excellent chef who wanted to be informed what time the master - Giles blushed at that - wanted dinner served.
Upon further questioning, the butler revealed that each of the servants was a part of the estate. They lived there and had been more than happy to stay even before the Council provided each of them a generous stipend every month. Jeremy had proceeded to showcase the entire estate, including a library that had both Willow and Giles drooling, and a lounge with a wide screen television and a pool table that made Xander more than happy.
After all of the Giles' affairs had been put in order, he and Willow made a hasty retreat to the library to begin researching. Xander also excused himself and headed for the lounge.
Nearly two hours later, the dark-haired man felt like his head was ready to explode. British comedy was going to take some getting used to. He was completely sick of playing pool as well, and he decided to stop by the library and see how Willow and Giles were doing.
That was the plan until he found himself hopelessly lost. It took him a good twenty minutes of wandering around until he bumped into one of the maids who was kind enough to lead him to the library.
"Hey, G-man!" Xander exclaimed, throwing the massive doors open.
"Xander," the Englishman replied. He promptly shoved a list and a thick envelope into the dark-haired man's hands and said, "Would you be kind enough to take a trip to London and look for those?"
Blinking, Xander browsed the list, which appeared to consist of nothing but magical ingredients. "_Unicorn_ horn?" he said disbelievingly. "Beetle _eyes_? _Phoenix_ feathers? _Dragon's_ liver?" He shook his head, "Look, G-man, eye of newt and toe of frog is one thing, but isn't this stuff a little..." He paused, looking for the right word. "... _extreme_?"
"Yes, yes," Giles waved his hand carelessly. "I realize that you probably won't be able to find most of what's on there, and even if you do, the cost is bound to be 'extreme' as you put it, but we're doing this for you. I thought you'd jump at the chance to help."
Xander sighed. "Fine, fine, I'll go. How am I supposed to pay for this stuff?"
Giles indicated the envelope. "There's ten thousand dollars in that envelope. Also, if you happen to see something you like, don't hesitate to buy it. Two thousand of that is yours."
The dark-haired man nearly dropped the envelope in shock. "Um... 'kay. I'll see you later on tonight." He quickly left, and Giles turned once more to his books.
o
It was still early when Xander arrived in London, and he had to admit, it felt good to be up and about on his own. Some of the stares he got bothered him a little, but if they thought his eye-patch was strange, he didn't want to know how they'd react to the gaping hole in his face where his eye had been.
He bit back a smile, resisting the urge to flip the eye patch up. Giles wouldn't be happy if he started terrorizing the natives.
Speaking of Giles, the other man had shocked the hell out of him with that little stunt earlier. Ten _thousand_ dollars, just to try to fix his eye? And the older man had just _given_ him two thousand right off the bat? Still, if Giles had that much trust in him, he'd be damned if he didn't bring back at least half of the ingredients on the list, no matter _how_ strange they were.
Opening his inner eye, he felt a strange surge of mystical power barely ten feet away from him. Blinking, Xander stared at the tiny, rundown building he could have _sworn_ wasn't there a minute ago. Glancing at the sign, he read aloud, "The Leaky Cauldron. Huh."
None of the people who milled around him seemed to even see it was there, and it was sending his magical "radar" off the chart. Shrugging, he supposed that it would be as good a place as any to begin his search.
Xander opened the door and stepped inside, curiously scanning the building purposefully. It seemed like a fairly dark, slightly dingy pub. Several older men and women were scattered haphazardly along the bar and tables, sipping their drinks and nursing their bottles. The buzz of conversation died off the minute he entered and he heard a few disbelieving mutters of, "Muggle!"
"Um," the dark-haired man said, addressing the entire group, "I'm sorry about this, but I'm from America, you see, and I was looking for the nearest shop to pick up some phoenix feathers and a couple of other ingredients. Do you think you could help me out?"
There was a unanimous sigh of relief and a short, balding man in a black robe walked over to him and said, "Gave us quite a scare there, boy. Comin' in here, dressed like a muggle!"
"Sorry," Xander responded, wondering what a muggle was.
"That the style over in America, is it?"
"Yeah," he said. Impulsively, he continued, "Helps us to blend in, y'know?"
"Ah! Thought that might be the case. Anyway, you've come to the right place. Diagon Alley's right back here." The tiny man led him out the back to a small, walled courtyard. He leaned over to one of the walls and began to count the bricks.
/Great,/ Xander thought. /My first day here and I walk into the loony bin!/
"Two down, and three..." The man nodded, then pulled out a slender stick and tapped one of the bricks with it three times.
A strange thing happened then. Xander watched in awe as the wall began to rearrange itself until it changed into a giant archway. Beyond he saw people of all shapes and sizes, wearing robes, and shopping at some of the most bizarre stores he'd ever seen. Having grown up on the Hellmouth, that was saying quite a bit.
"Our own Diagon Alley," the tiny man said proudly. "Enjoy your stay in England."
Xander stepped through the archway, and then turned to thank the man. To his surprise, the archway had already sealed itself shut behind him, leaving Xander to stare at the blank wall.
Turning back to the shops, the dark-haired man realized he had no idea where to begin. He did notice that many people were staring at him, and he figured it was probably because he dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He'd have to get himself a robe if he wanted to avoid attention.
A small building to his left caught his attention, and he glanced at the sign. /Muggle Money Exchange, huh? Well, if these people use a different currency, I'd better get some. Last thing I need is to pull out a couple of American dollars and alienate myself even _more_./
After careful debate, he'd exchanged seven thousand dollars and kept the other three in cash. He figured that if he needed to, he could always exchange more, but he wanted to have something to fall back on just in case. Xander tested the weight of the heavy pouch they'd given him and wondered if seven hundred Galleons was a lot of money.
Another store caught his eye and he read, "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions." It seemed like, whoever these people were, they were into really long and descriptive names. Not that he minded; it was much easier to figure out what stores sold.
A plump woman who he assumed was Madam Malkin greeted him as he walked in. "What can I do for you, dear?"
"Um... a robe would be nice. Black?" he stuttered.
"Hm." She gave him an appraising look and led him to the back of the shop. "Where are you from, dear. You're dressed like a Muggle!"
"America," he said, sticking to his cover story. "We try to blend in over there."
"Ah, that's it, then," Madam Malkin said, nodding. "Hop up on the stool, dear, and we'll have you fitted right away." She waved her hand at one of the footstools, and before he knew it, she'd slipped a black robe over his head and started to pin it to the proper length.
"There you go," she smiled warmly. "You can keep the robe on and pay up at the front."
Surprisingly, the robe was only three Galleons, and thankfully, when he started to browse the shops again, no one even looked at him twice. It was a big relief.
Another shop, Ollivanders, caught his eye. He read the fine print curiously. "Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., hm?" /Well,/ he reasoned, /That guy back at the Leaky Cauldron used a wand to open the passage to here, and Giles is bound to send me out for more ingredients some time. I might as well get a wand so I can come back here whenever I want.../
Mr. Ollivander greeted him at the door with a small smile. "Well now," he said to Xander, "You look to be a challenge. Come in, come in."
Xander entered cautiously, peering through the dank room as best he could. There were boxes lining every shelf, and a small, wooden desk in the middle of the room. Mr. Ollivander pushed a wand into his hands before he could blink, and the dark-haired man asked, "What am I supposed to do?"
"Swish it around a bit, my boy." Irritation was plain in the man's voice.
Xander did so, feeling like a fool, and nothing happened. After a moment, the man replaced it with another wand, then another. None of them gave him any sort of response.
Just when the dark-haired man had given up hope, Ollivander handed him a long, dark, thin wand. As he waved it, fireworks seemed to erupt in the air, sparkling around him, and he laughed.
"Well, well," Mr. Ollivander said, "I suppose I should have seen _that_ coming."
"What?" Xander asked, still staring at the wand.
"Eleven inches, yew, solid. That particular wand has the heartstrings of a dragon as its core. Very old, very powerful. Dragons are like that, you see. Powerful, and protective."
"How much do I owe you?" Xander said finally.
"Nine Galleons, even."
Xander paid him, nodded his thanks, and tucked the wand in his robe as he left. Mr. Ollivander smiled to himself and whispered, "That particular dragon was one of the greatest dragons that ever lived and the last of his race. He was known as the Shadow Dragon, Mr. Harris. _That_ is why I should have known." He shook his head, then set about helping his next customer.
o
Xander was having a blast. There were things he'd never imagined possible in almost every shop he visited, and he made good use of the money Giles had given him. As he figured it, two hundred of those Galleons were his.
He picked up several interesting books at a small shop called Flourish and Blotts. Two of them were about the history of wizardry, one was about a famous school called Hogwarts, and the other three he bought were spell books for beginners. He figured he'd probably have to hide them from Giles and Willow, but it would be worth it. Near as he could tell, _none_ of them required spell components or ritual chanting, like all of the spells he'd seen Willow do. All _these_ spells consisted of two or three foreign words, a wave of his wand, and that was it!
After he counted his change, he still had a good one hundred and twenty Galleons left, so he bought himself some really nice papers, a set of quills, and a set of multicolored inks from Parchment&Quills, a small, collapsible cauldron from Granny B's Cauldron Depot, and a set of crystal phials, and a set of brass scales from the corner shop.
Best of all, he'd found _everything_ on Giles' list with the exception of "a pinch of dried asliwyle." Xander had _no_ idea what to do for that one. He didn't even know was an "asliwyle" was!
There was one shop he hadn't checked - the Apothecary shop. He figured if he looked hard enough, he could probably find some in there. The only problem was that the shop was so tiny and jam-packed full of bizarre reagents that it was almost impossible to walk through it, much less look for something.
After nearly a half-hour of searching, he spotted a tiny vial of the stuff on one of the shelves. Gleefully he reached out for it, but just as he was about to pick it up, someone else's hand collided with his own.
"Ah!" Xander exclaimed, surprised. The vial of asliwyle teetered for a moment and would have crashed to the floor, but he managed to catch it just in time. "Whew!" he said, and turned to look at the man who startled him.
The man was a bit older than he was - Xander pegged him to be in his late twenties, early thirties, with long black hair that curled a tiny bit at the ends. He was pale and looked extremely tired.
"Sorry about that," Xander said, smiling. He glanced at the shelf, but didn't see any more vials of asliwyle. His brow furrowed a little and he suggested, "I think this is the last of the stuff, but I only need a pinch of it. Want to just split it?"
"That's acceptable," the man said.
They paid for it together, then found a second glass vial and divided the asliwyle evenly.
"Well, that's it for me," Xander said. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Snape," the man replied, giving him a measuring look. "Severus Snape."
Xander grinned. "Xander Harris. I'll be seeing you around."
With that parting line, he turned around and left the man staring after him. It was all Xander could do not to grin; if his mind's eye had anything to say about it, he'd be seeing a lot more of the man than that.
o