Summary: This Buffyverse is about fifty years or less into the future compared to the norm. Xander is a miner on Mars during the Red Faction rebellion.

Crossover: Red Faction (the PC game), Hellsing (the anime series, also the manga), HP:CoS

Feedback, it makes me write faster. (You know you want to do the feedback thing.)

Pre-fic comments: I think I'll cross this with one of my original fics... eventually. I've long thought about crossing my vampire original-fics with Buffy.

Xander jumped slightly as the stairs moved upwards of their own accord once he set foot on them.

"Cool, circular escalator," Eos said, following Xander. "So, who're we meeting?"

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said. "He's the Headmaster, and very respected."

"I'll let you do the talking, Eos," Xander said, waving her past him. "You're better at this talking thing."

"Haven't you evolved that far yet?," Seras asked innocently.

"Ahhh! Zinged by the police girl!," Xander said dramatically, hand over heart as if he were wounded there.

"Stop staring at me," Asiz said irritably to Harry. His eyes had kept flickering towards her reptilian hair while escorting the group.

"Sorry," Harry said. "Are... are you the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Who?," Xander asked. "Slithering what?"

"No, /Slytherin/," an aged voice said behind them. A tall, extremely old man clad in a rainbow coloured nightshirt was standing by the door that the escalating staircase lead to. "One of the Houses here at Hogwarts. Please, do come in... I, of course, am Albus Dumbledore, and you are?"

"Travellers lost on a strange road," Xander shrugged.

"I'm Eos," Eos said. "She's Asiz, smart mouth there is Xander Harris, and the short blonde is--"

"Police girl," Xander interrupted. "At least, that's what her master calls her."

Seras' blood red eyes narrowed dangerously. "My /name/ is Seras Victoria!"

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Eos, Miss Asiz, Mr Harris, Miss Girl," Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Take a seat, take a seat. Lemon drop?"

Seras accepted one, but none of the others did.

"Now, what could you be doing here?," the old man asked. "Do you need any help at all?"

"Well, we were travelling along, minding our own business, when we got attacked and Asiz did some teleportey hocus pocus, and here we are," Xander shrugged. "I'd like to get back home."

"I see," Dumbledore nodded. "Might I ask what spell you used?"

"I'm a Goddess," Asiz said, smirking slightly. "Spells are below me."

The old man's eyebrows rose. "How extraordinary. I trust you can return yourself to whence you came from?"

"I can," Asiz allowed. "I need a few days to get a fix on where I am, though."

"We can give you that," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "There are, however, a few ground rules which I feel obliged to outline."

"Shoot," Xander said jovially. "But not literally."

"That would be terrible to do to a guest," the old man smiled. "Do not disrupt lessons, do not harm our students or staff in any fashion, and do not destroy. That is all."

"Okay," Seras said. "Uh, where are we staying?"

"I'll show you," Dumbledore said. "Harry, go on back to your dormitory. I won't take points off -- tonight."

"Hold on," Xander said urgently. "What's that voice?"

A cold voice threaded through the corridor. "Come... come to me... let me rip you... let me tear you... let me kill you..."

"That's the voice I heard at Lockhart's detention!," Harry said, suddenly deciding walking /alone/ back to his dormitory wasn't such a grand idea.

"What voice?," Eos asked. "You're hearing this."

"I'm afraid I must agree," Dumbledore said.

"No, it's one of my children," Asiz said, frowning slightly. "Such anger... such hate... what went wrong with him?"

"Your child?," Dumbledore asked, surprised.

"You mean it's a snake, too?," Xander asked.

"I... I heard a snake talk in English at the zoo, once," Harry volunteered. "He sounded like that. Well, not evil, but hiss-like."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful at this.

"Perhaps you could find this errant serpent for us?," he asked.

"Sure," Asiz shrugged.

"In the morning, however," Dumbledore said, continuing down the corridor. "I doubt it is anything to be concerned about. Here are your rooms, behind this painting. The password is meddle."

When he said 'meddle' the painting of an arrogant looking thin man in black swung to one side, revealing a stone passageway leading to a small lounge.

"Okay," Xander shrugged. "See you at breakfast, then."