Disclaimer is in chapter 1.

The dinner was a tense affair, once Tony got home, but they got through it without incident and Narcissa took her leave shortly after. Sirius informed them that he'd be hanging around the town a bit for a while and offered to help Xander with some of his work.

Xander could tell that Tony wasn't particularly impressed with the offer and didn't much like the idea of the British Wizard hanging around, but Xander accepted the offer anyway. He needed a hand with the protean, otherwise he knew that he'd ruin dozens of runes simply to make the few spell phones he needed.

Besides, he wanted to get some more information on the Black's and Potters, as well as a few other families.

It would have to wait, however, since he had the next couple days scheduled for more torture sessions with Chayton.

"Don't stop moving." Chayton ordered, sending stinging hexes wordlessly at Xander as he forced the boy onward.

Xander was puffing, unable to cast a spell now for lack of air and ability to speak.

"You'll never be able to hold up your end of a fight like that, kid!" Chayton called, nailing Xander in the side with a pair of hard stingers. "Can't breathe, can't speak, can't cast wordlessly. What can you do!?"

Xander hit the ground hard, sliding to a stop and started coughing as he panted. Chayton walked over and crouched by a boulder over him, shaking his head.

"Not good enough, Alex." The former Pride member said. "You've got to be able to cast at all times, so either you learn some wordless spells, or you get your ass in shape."

The former Auror smirked, "You know what? Let's do both, k?"

Xander moaned on the ground, curling up into a ball and wishing he'd stayed in bed.

Occlumency training, however, was moving ahead of Chayton's plans and that was confusing him. In every other way the Harris boy was about where he should be in terms of magic and skill, this is he was pitiful. Average power for his age, at least for those who received an invitation to one of the top schools. Knowledge and skills were spotty, he knew some advanced spells beyond his year, but was missing out on some of the basics.

In short, with dedication, Chayton figured that the boy could probably apply for, and have a shot at, a spot on the Pride... in ten to fifteen years.

His Occlumency, however, was well in advance of where it should be.

He certainly couldn't hold out even a marginally competent Legilimens yet, but that day was coming quickly. Far more quickly than it should, and neither he nor Robert could explain why.

During a rare break from training, Xander caught up with Sam while the former Seal was visiting Robert.

"Hey Sam, I need to talk with you."

"What's up kid?"

"You know my parents are planning on moving, right?" Xander asked.

Sam nodded, "Sure. Tony mentioned it. About time, really."

"Well, I've been thinking. With my magic projects and stuff, I need a place to work that's away from people and all. You hear that the junkyard outside of town is for sale?" Xander asked.

Sam nodded, grimacing. "Owner and his family were killed a few weeks ago, yeah."

Xander grimaced, "Damn, I didn't know. You were friends, weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Nothing you could do, kid. So, what? You want to run a junkyard now?" Sam asked, half joking.

"Not really," Xander admitted, "But can you think of a better place to maybe blow up an experiment?"

"Really far out in the desert comes to mind," The Seal replied dryly. "But it's not a bad second choice. It's going to be expensive to buy and then just leave sitting around."

Xander thought about it, then shrugged, "Well... know any squibs who need jobs then? I mean, I can buy it as an investment, right?"

Sam thought about it for a moment, thinking about the site. The Junkyard had a full garage, with a hydraulic lift. It was where he had rebuilt his old Chevy, actually. Other than a single old computer used for book work the place was all old school in terms of tech, so magic wouldn't bring it crashing to the ground.

"Maybe. Let's talk to Robert about it, he knows more folk than I do."

Xander nodded and the two headed in to talk to the old man.

Robert, as it turned out, knew more than a couple people who might fit the bill and was more than willing to give their names to Xander. Unsurprisingly they were former military, a couple guys from front line outfits and a couple who'd done work in the motor pool. Less of the good was the fact that they all had criminal records, but Robert assured Xander and Sam that they knew their business, were aware of magic, and picked up their records mostly from bar brawls and the like.

Not good for getting a job in the real world, but in Sunnydale that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Armed with that information, Xander took Sam home that night and started the task of selling the idea to his dad.

"I don't know, Alex," Tony hesitated. "It's a lot of money, and you're still only fourteen."

"Let Jess run the business, Tony," Sam suggested, "You know she has the education for it, whether it's on the books or not."

Tony grimaced, but conceded the point. Sam had intentionally jabbed a sore spot with that one, since like many Squibs Jessica had been educated by the family, but not provided with much in the way of paperwork to back it up in the non-magical world. He'd been the same, and had to take a menial job and work his way up to where he was.

Which wasn't very much higher than he started, to be honest. To be even more honest, Tony knew that he would be higher if he hadn't started the habit of drinking as much as he did. Jessica's education with the families was a lot better than his, the Lavelle's tended to provide more than the Harris' did in that respect, and Jess had been a smart cookie from day one. She could run a business, or learn how in a hurry.

"It would keep you from blowing out the neighbors windows," Tony grunted, smirking at Xander.

"That was only the one time!"

Sam mumbled something about once being enough, but didn't say more when Xander scowled at him.

"Alright, talk to your mother." Tony said, "She'll help you setup a plan. You are NOT going to do this like some little idiot. You want to run it as an investment, get your mother to show you how."

Xander grimaced, "I just got myself even more work, didn't I?"

Sam laughed loudly.

"Oh shut up, Sam," Tony grinned, "And yes, you did. But not much, since you're not going to be here much."

Xander just groaned.

He had indeed loaded himself down with more work, Xander found out quickly. Between training with Chayton and learning now with his mother, Xander's own projects had to be set aside. He was lucky to get an hour or two in the evenings to spend with Willow or Jessie, and just wanted to spend most of it lazing around and maybe watching TV or a movie.

Luckily, with Sirius offering to help, Willow could follow his notes on building Spell Phones. The wand work was mostly easy stuff now, just requiring meticulous notes more than anything else, Something Willow was a lot better at than he.

All of which, to Xander, meant that he wasn't getting to do any of the fun stuff anymore. Oh, training had its moments, but as the days went by it was more and more drudgery and less of the brilliant fun it began as.

Ok, brilliant fun was pushing it, especially when applied to Occlumency.

That had started as a monumental pain, literally, and was the one thing that had gotten easier over the past couple weeks. Of course easier didn't mean it was any more enjoyable. Occlumency was like every night of homework he'd ever had to do in normal school, compounded and compressed into a single session of boredom.

The headaches had passed, though, so it wasn't killing him anymore.

"He's advancing in Occlumency too quickly." Chayton told Robert a month into the training.

"So?" The old man shrugged, "That's a good thing, is it not?"

"No. It's not." Thomas muttered, "The boy's mind is opening faster than his defenses are mounting. He's going to be wide open to damn near anything that wants in at this rate."

Robert frowned, thinking on that. "What causes this?"

"Nothing I'm aware of. I've never seen it before." Chayton replied. "Untrained, the boy would be a walking bullseye for all sorts of mental manipulation. Partially trained, he's even more open."

"And fully trained?"

Chayton shook his head, "I don't know. We could be doing more harm than good now. I just don't see any other direction than forward, though."

Robert nodded slowly, "So... if we're hurting the boy, what can we do?"

"Find out why." Chayton said earnestly. "Something's wrong here."

"I'll contact the families. They may know something." Robert sighed, disliking the necessity of being forced to deal with the Heads of Families, but accepting it.

Chayton nodded, "Alright."

Robert nodded as Chayton left and ruminated on the situation. He really didn't like dealing with the families, especially the Harris Head. However, he'd put the boy in the middle of this, so it was time to see what he'd done and how to fix it.

He got up, old bones creaking, and walked over to the fire.

"Salem Sally's!" He called, tossing Floo powder into the blaze.

The green flames erupted out, swallowing him whole, and in a moment the room was empty save for the warm glow of the flickering fire.

Salem Sally's was an old favorite for the upper crust of American Pureblood society. Of course the Sally's wasn't the actual name. The real name changed every few decades or so, but to people like Robert it was now, and always would be, Salem Sally's.

"Robert."

"Hello Sarah." Robert smiled as he leaned on his cane.

"What can we do for you today?"

"I need a room."

"And a girl?"

"No, but I do need a runner."

"For you, Robert." The woman said, smiling softly before she turned away. "Please wait here."

Robert just nodded and took a seat. Sally's was, in Robert's terms, an old fashioned comfort house. The sort of place that married men of high standing could find a few hours of time away from whatever problems they've managed to accumulate in their oh so important lives.

Sally's was known for having the most beautiful hostesses and, if you leaned that way, the best looking hosts. Sally's was comfortable, lavishly appointed, and very, VERY discrete.

Sally's was also entirely run and staffed by squibs. Invisible people, people of no value to men and women the likes of who Robert was here to meet.

Robert's people.

Matriarch Lavelle sniffed in irritation as she crossed over the threshold of the brothel. Setting foot in such a place wasn't an embarrassment or anything of that nature, but it still insulted her sensibilities to a degree.

"Madam." The man who met her was young, perhaps twenty. Handsome, of course, not that it meant much in a world of Polyjuice and plastic surgery. She ignored him and looked past him to the stairs.

"Show me my room."

"Of course, Madam. This way."

She was led up to a lavish sitting room, part of a suite she presumed, and paused to glare mildly at the man waiting for her.

"This is not the sort of place I prefer to meet people, Robert."

"Funny, it's exactly the sort of place I like to meet people."

"What is this about?"

"The Kid, Jessica's son."

"Alexander, yes. What of him?"

"I called in a favor, got him some training." Robert said.

"I fail to see how this is worth my coming here."

"In Occlumency."

Robert was watching close and he almost missed the subtle tension that appeared in the woman, she was good at covering up her emotions. Unsurprising, he supposed. "You know something."

"Why are you coming to me?"

Robert sighed, "Damn it, Old Woman, you know damn well. I can see it in your eyes."

The Lavelle Matriarch stiffened slightly, but otherwise ignored the old woman crack. She sighed slowly, then settled a little. "You began training the boy in Occlumency... several years earlier than is normal, I might add."

"The 'boy' has been getting into trouble," Robert said, "You know, in that place you and Marcus keep pushing him to go back to?"

"Yes, I'm aware of young Alexander's adventures." Lady Lavelle replied. "Giving him aptitude with the mental arts isn't the sort of solution I would have expected from you."

"Yeah well, I'm full of surprises."

"Let me guess," She said icily. "He's progressing quickly, after a month he's already able to sense intrusions and his mind is opening faster than his defenses are building. Am I close?"

"You're slow off the mark. He hit that point two weeks ago."

"What!?" She snapped sharply, her gaze spearing him with its intensity. "You should have come to me sooner."

"What the hell is going on?"

"This is a family matter, Robert."

"Alex is my family, remember?"

"It is an issue of the Line, Robert." Lady Lavelle rose to her feet. "It will be handled."

"Like hell!" Robert got up, "What's going on!?"

Robert could only seethe as the Lady Lavelle ignored him and left the room. He looked around for a moment, trying to determine his options, but came up dry. Chasing after her would net him nothing at best, possibly less than that if she took offense. He hadn't seen them, but the Matriarch of the Lavelle line wouldn't have come without her bodyguards.

He sat back down and considered for a moment.

Hopefully she would keep her word and handle the situation, as her words were his only clue.

It was an issue of the Line.

That was a buzzword phrase if ever he'd heard one. To a pureblood, one of the ones who were serious about their traditions, it was like raising the colors for a military man. He wasn't getting anything more out of her on the subject, of that Robert was unfortunately certain.

The door cracked open and a young woman peered in.

"Mr. Lee, will you be staying the night?"

Robert glanced up at the ceiling and smiled slightly, "Yes, thank you Michelle."

"I'll have your regular room prepared."

"Better." Chayton allowed as Xander collapsed to the ground in a quivering pile. "Soon you should be able to hold your own against a girl scout troop."

Xander shot him a dark look, which only cause the big Native American to smile.

"I wouldn't worry, if you reach the point where you can take an American girl scout troop, those amateur terrorists in England will be a piece of cake."

Xander snorted through the pain and wheezing, shaking his head. "What do you know about them, seriously?"

"The Death Eaters?" Chayton shrugged, "They're terrorists. All accounts agree on that. That tells me almost everything I need to know right there."

"I don't get it." Xander looked up, confused.

"Terrorists choose their path to fight for only a few reasons, and they all boil down to one common one. They can't win in a straight up confrontation." Chayton said, taking a seat on a nearby boulder. "So to figure out how dangerous they really are, you look to the people they can't beat in a real fight. In this case, English Aurors."

Xander couldn't help it, he snorted again. "I don't know how they were twenty years ago, but the ones I've seen aren't all that great."

"Mostly they weren't then either," Chayton chuckled. "You have to understand, peace keepers aren't warriors. Warriors make BAD peace keepers, and vice versa. Most folk think that if you're trained to fire a curse you're automatically a cop, a soldier, a hit wizard... all of the above wrapped into one. That's not how it works. Cops are trained to calm the situation down, get people talking, end things peacefully. Soldiers, they're trained to kill people and break things."

"What about The Pride?"

Chayton looked over, serious for a moment, then shrugged. "We're a bit of a mix. We hunt down criminals that aren't going easy, we get called in when the locals can't handle a situation. Do we try to keep things civil? Yeah. But that's not how most of our cases work out."

Xander nodded, taking deep and even breaths as his heart slowly began to stop pounding in his ear.

"So, back to the original question, if the group in question can't take a bunch of flat foot cops in a straight up fight, then they're pretty piss poor on the warrior scale." Chayton said with a shrug, "Especially when you consider that the cops they were originally fighting were among the lowest paid and most understaffed in Europe. To not be able to take them in straight up fights, when you're using unforgivables and they're not allowed to... you have to be pretty weak."

"What about Chief Mold in his Shorts, the Dark Lord?"

"That's another matter." Chayton sighed, "and something to remember when dealing with irregular groups like that. They may be weak in general, but that doesn't mean they're ALL that way. We call them irregulars for a reason."

"Yeah. You know, the more I look at the wizarding world the more some things confuse me," Xander admitted. "How does someone like Moldy over there get away with it?"

"Power." Chayton answered without hesitation.

"Can't be all, I mean... can it?"

"What can I say, sometimes that's all it takes." Chayton shrugged.

"Come on," Xander complained, "There's no way one guy can just stand up like that and take on the whole world, is there?"

"No way a non-magical can," Chayton shrugged, "but Magic is a strange and terrible thing."

"Man, that's just messed up." Xander said, sighing.

"Sam Colt wasn't a Wizard." Chayton chuckled.

"What?"

"Something Robert used to tell me, said it made sense, but I figure it must be a non-magical thing." Chayton replied, "He said that there was an old expression. God created man..."

"But Sam Colt made them equal." Xander finished, nodding.

"You know it then?"

"I think most Americans know it," Xander chuckled, then frowned seriously. "Sam Colt wasn't a wizard."

"Mean more to you than it does to me?"

"Maybe." Xander said thoughtfully. "I never thought about it that way. We're not equal, are we?"

"By what definition of the term?" Chayton shrugged.

"Huh?"

"Non magicals use equal as a term to define their moral right to life. In that sense I like to think that we all, magical and non-magical, human and non-human, are equal. But realistically?" The big American Indian shrugged. "You were born white, into two important family lines here in the Americans. I was born to the Tribes. You have some advantages, I have others. Equal there we are not. Both of us were born well into the top twenty percent of all Wizards in the Americas for magical power. We're demonstrably superior to eighty percent of our Wizard brethren. There's no equality there, and that's not even counting low magic folk and non magicals."

Xander nodded soberly.

"People want there to be some 'magical' world," Chayton smiled ironically, "where everything is perfect and everyone gets what they deserve. In pursuit of that fantasy, they cheat, they steal, and they kill. And those are the good folk. The bad ones do all that just cause they want to."

The former law enforcement wizard sighed, shrugging helplessly.

"But the world ain't built that way, and it's not possible to ever reach it. We live in a world where a saint can be killed by a bolt of lightning, and a sinner saved by a breath of wind. It's not about equality, it's about living the best we can, each of us as individuals."

Xander nodded, wondering if the big guy was right.

It was kind of depressing, really, in some ways. Was the world really that screwed up?

"Come on, back to work kid. We've got another two hours to go."

Xander moaned and pushed himself back up.