Disclaimer is in chapter 1.
He had been so right on that guess that Xander almost wanted to cry.
Occlumency lessons with Davis actually started out fairly easy, as the man was actually an easier taskmaster than Chayton had been, but they were long and interminably boring. All he had Xander do was build basic defenses, over and over again, then he'd knock holes in them with a Legilimency assault and they'd start over yet again.
After that it was back to training with Chayton, getting run into the ground by the magical equivalent of a former special forces operative was a lot less fun than it sounded in theory, Xander had long since realized.
Still, Chayton showed him all the basics of dueling, tricks used by higher level Auror units to offset the sometimes steep differential in power between them and their opponents. It had sounded odd to Chayton that the Pride would be in that sort of situation so often, but Chayton had an answer for that as he did for most questions Xander came up with.
"Members of the Proud aren't always the most magically potent, kid." Chayton had replied, "Truth is, really powerful wizards and witches more often show up on the business end of a Pride wand than the casting side."
Chayton shrugged, "Don't get me wrong. We're all in probably the top 90 percentile, but the Proud gets most of its recruits between 90 and say, 95. The leaders of a Dark Band like your terrorist group in England tend to be in the 95th to 99th percentile. They have to be to control a group of thugs that just want to go out and do whatever acts of savagery they want."
"That doesn't sound like they're that much more powerful." Xander frowned, doubtfully.
"The problem is that there's no top end to magic levels," Chayton responded, "so I'm not saying that I'm 90% as powerful as you can GET. It's a bell curve, with non magicals at one end and magicals at the other. Someone in the 99th percentile could be dozens of times stronger than someone in the 90th."
Xander cringed, "Oh."
"Yeah," Chayton said flatly, "And by most accounts your Voldemort fellow over there is probably among the few Wizards who might credibly claim to be a level above even those. Britain, right now, holds a lot of people because of Albus Dumbledore, for example..."
Xander blinked, "My headmaster?"
"Likely one of the most powerful Wizards on the planet. In fact, at this point in time, there's no one out there disputing his position as number one, except Dumbledore himself." Chayton shrugged. "If there's anyone out there with more sheer power, the guy's probably a hermit who doesn't like dealing with people. Or, it's someone who's warded off some personal kingdom to rule over and doesn't give a damn for the rest of the world."
"You're kidding."
"It happens, kid. Every now and then we have to break wards over some town somewhere and clear out some yahoo who's moved in and taken over." Chayton shrugged, "And those are the ones we find. If someone with enough power were to us, say a Fidelius variation... would we even know to look?"
Xander's jaw dropped open and he shook his head. Magic was really SCARY as he started delving deeper into it.
"Keeps the Obliviators real busy when something like that happens," Chayton shrugged. "Even so, a few always slip the nets."
"What happens then?"
"Nothing much. Conspiracy theories, tales of vampires and magic, that kind of stuff gets ignored by the non magicals. If an Obliviators gets ahold of it fast enough the source gets to go back to his old life without any big issue. If not, well he generally winds up in an institution somewhere."
"That sucks."
Chayton nodded, "Yeah. It does. Like I said, though, the Obliviators try and find them and get them back to where they should be. Once in a while we get a runner who goes deep. They can make themselves a pain in our collective ass."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. There's always a couple of them in the wind, trying to warn the world about us. Usually they don't know what 'we' are, which only makes them sound crazier. There's a couple out there now we're trying to hunt down," Chayton shrugged, "Guy by the name of Cade Foster, and another guy named Jarod. No last name, just Jarod. Both of them are sneaky shits, let me tell you. We'll get them sooner or later, though, but it takes years sometimes. One guy named Kimble, a few decades ago, took us four years to track down and get his life back together. Honestly, if they'd stop running it would work out better for them."
Xander just shook his head, "I didn't realize people were finding out so often."
"Yeah, can't keep a secret this big. What we do is mostly keep it so that 'sensible' people don't believe the truth when they hear it." Chayton chuckled, "Easier that way. Now come on, enough of a break, let's go back over the basics."
The 'Basics' for Chayton were a series of spells and exercises intended to provide maximum effect for minimum cost. This usually meant a combination of magical power and Newtonian used to best effect.
As Xander learned quickly, most shields in common use were best suited to specific types of attacks. The first shield most people learned, the Protego, was actually only mediocre against spells. It could, however, stop a fusillade of bullets without even slightly wearing out the wizard who was crouched behind it. More powerful shields had different specialties, culminating in the Imprimis Shield, which was pretty much a solid all round defense against anything up to the so called Unforgivables.
The trick for a full LEO was to know the spells coming at him and respond in the blink of an eye with the correct shield to stop the attack, while still only using a minimum of power to do so. It was a trick that was beyond the abilities of almost all recruits, and even many veterans.
So the Proud had instituted a training regimen that used what they called hybrid defenses, very low power yet extremely high effectiveness spells that worked in probably ninety percent of encounters. Magic being what it was, there was nothing that worked in EVERY situation.
Xander found these tricks easy to learn, but Chayton wasn't happy with him 'learning' them. He had to BE them. They had to come to his front mind as his first reaction, even second nature wasn't enough for the big Native American.
And so Xander worked.
"How is he doing?"
Davis considered for a moment before answering, "Adequately, I expect. Don't look for miracles, My Lady. However, his basic defenses should be back to where they belong for a normal child his age quite soon."
"Any sign of... other abilities?"
"Possibly. It's too early to tell, however." Davis shrugged, "As open as he was, I'm shocked his mind is as clean as it is. The home wards around the Harris place are barely adequate to the task."
"They're planning on moving soon, we'll see that their new place is better defended."
"Get them off this infernal portal." Davis said, a little incredulously.
"They're well-hidden here, and the danger is minimal to Wizards." Lady Lavelle shrugged, "The Ministry's man in Sunnydale keeps things well in order."
Davis sighed, but nodded. Wilkins was an obsessive man, but that was a trait that served the bureaucrat well. When the Ministry heard that a town was forming right on top of the damned hellmouth, of all places, they'd dispatched Wilkins to oversee things. So far he'd kept everything nice and orderly, with a minimum of trouble for the ministry.
Chances were the old Wizard would be able to keep the Harris' alive and well without any hassle.
Davis shuddered a bit, though. Honestly, what kind of man stays on a duty station like the Hellmouth for near on a hundred and fifty years?
"Very well, My Lady."
June had given way to July, and the date for Xander's return to England was approaching fast. Xander, in turn, was getting more and more frazzled as the work kept piling on. They'd bought the old junk yard, found a couple squibs to run it, and another couple to drive the wreckers. Xander had never seen his mom so happy as when she was tearing through the books and working on the business side of things.
Kinda creepy really.
They set up the front office as a magic free zone, with computer, TV, and stuff. But the old metal buildings to the back were Xander's project areas, and nothing with a microchip need apply for entrance. They moved their wand, spell phone, and other research stuff back there and immediately Willow and Sirius practically moved in. Once they got a Floo hookup in place, Wednesday joined them, which resulted in a combination of personalities that scared Xander more then vampires.
Still, he checked in with them as much as he could, and mostly just wished he could do some of the work himself. Just to relax, if nothing else. Wand theory was moving along a bit, but only in that they were getting more and more basic information on core components.
Willow's hair worked, for example, as did Xander's and Wednesdays. Willow hair wands tended to be a bit better for charms, Xander hair for transfiguration, and Wednesday hair (in a shocker that shocked no one) held an edge in curses.
What did surprise them a bit was that when Xander had a chance to try out the new wands, he bonded fairly well with both the Willow and Wednesday wands, while they in turn seemed to prefer the Xander one. That led into a flurry of conjecture on emotional bonds and such, that mostly went over Xander's head, though he did get the gist of it.
All that and more went into the database Willow was working up on the front office computer, and Xander was fairly certain it would all be useful eventually. After all, Willow was one of the smartest girls he knew, and she swore by the idea of a database.
He wondered, though, if there were a magical version available so she wouldn't have to run back and forth with hand written notes all the time. He made a note in his journal to check into it, maybe get some books on the computer stuff too, so he could see what exactly the thing was doing.
More work.
If he were just a little more tired, Xander would have cried.
By the time the day came to go back to Britain, Xander did cry a bit, just in relief. Spending half the summer away from Willow and Jessie was going to suck, but hell he wasn't spending any time with them HERE as things were.
At least in England with the Malfoy's he'd only have to worry about keeping up his conditioning.
He double checked his gear, looking through the trunk to make sure he had the extra wands, spell phones, materials, notes, and everything he needed for a school year at Hogwarts. He expected to be running around London on his own a bit as well, so he'd changed a few hundred bucks over to pounds to get him by until he got to a bank.
There was a letter from Sirius to Harry in the mix, of course, as well as his newly minted 'Wand Crafter' permit. Xander smiled when he saw that, it felt good to have it even if the test had been stupidly easy. He was happy as well that he'd gotten Robert to secure a place for Willow at the exam as well. She'd scored higher than him, of course, which surprised no one. What no one else but he and Willow knew, however, is that a lot of the things she got right and he didn't were stuff she remembered from the books they had, but they both had proven wrong or incomplete in the course of their own experimentation.
Legally they didn't mean a lot, except that it was a shortcut to being permitted to carry a backup wand in any member nation of the ICW. While, technically, he was only allowed the one wand that any Wizard was permitted, he could carry samples for 'sale'. And there was no provision for how those samples were to be transported.
So he had a few of their blanks, core components, and notes of course. In addition, Xander carried his Ollivander wand, and the carbon dual core 'curse wand' as his back up. He figured that if he needed a backup, more than likely it was going to be in a fight, so he packed 'heavy' as Chayton would say.
The portkey arrived as he was finishing up, so Xander gave Willow and his Mom a hug and kiss, shook hands with his dad, and promised Sirius to deliver the note and proposition to Harry as soon as he could.
Summer in England would be busy, but thankfully it didn't look to be as bad as summer in Sunnydale.
Xander said bye one more time, touched the portkey, and was yanked away.
Narcissa Malfoy sighed as she watched her son curse at the families remaining house elf. Sammy was a good deal older than Dobby and belonged to Narcissa, not her husband, which was likely why the little thing was still alive she supposed.
"That will be all, Sammy." Narcissa said sternly as she made herself known.
"Yes Mistress." The house elf muttered quickly, popping away with a grateful glance at her.
"Honestly Draco, what did the poor thing do this time?"
"That worthless *elf* got my lunch order wrong." Draco scowled.
"Since your father gave Dobby his freedom, I permit you to give orders to Sammy. However, she is MY elf, Draco." Narcissa leveled an icy glare at her son, "Punishments are mine to determine."
"Yes mother."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the sarcasm in her son's tone, "And might I remind you that you are not yet out from under my control either. I determine punishments for you as well."
"It was just an elf, mother!" Draco protested.
Narcissa sighed, "You have no idea what your position in society truly means, do you? It's my fault, I suppose. I should have known better than to entrust that your father would teach you what even he himself learned. Since he taught it to himself, I suppose he expects the same of you. He forgets that he wasn't born into the same station of life as you, I suppose."
Draco scowled. He didn't like it when his mother reminded him that his father, her husband, had been born a mere merchants son.
"Do you ever see me casually flinging terms like mudblood around, child?" Narcissa demanded sharply.
Draco winced, "But mother, you act like they're worthless all the time."
"Of course I do. It's expected among our peers. However being crass about it makes you look bad, and reflects on us all. Just because many of our 'peers'," Narcissa sneered slightly at the idea of considering Goyle and Crabbe in HER 'peer' group, "Are so low as to do so, does not mean you must be. Are you the elite of pureblood society, or are you a low born merchant's son?"
Draco scowled, but looked down at the floor. "The elite."
Narcissa sighed, "Draco, darling, these things are not there to make you feel the fool. We maintain our position through guile, intelligence, and breeding. Fail in any of those, and we are overrun."
"Yes mother."
Narcissa gathered her robes and took a seat across from him, "Now. Young Master Harris will be along today. You remember what I said, of course."
This time Draco really scowled. He supposed it would be worse having scarhead over, but having Xander staying over until school was in, was bad enough. He nodded, though, remembering his mother's words on the subject, and his father's agreement.
Narcissa eyed her son, hoping he wasn't going to completely screw this up. She did NOT want a blood feud with the Lavelle and Harris lines, even as badly damaged as they both were. With their allies, Narcissa was relatively certain that the Malfoy's would come out on top, but the attrition could be horrific.
And that was if the Addams Clan chose to stay out of it.
Oh she had torn into Draco for not letting her in on THAT little tidbit of knowledge, and to Lucius as well though later, and in private. That both of them had known that an Addams scion had come to Hogwarts and even THOUGHT to mention it.
Narcissa closed her eyes and counted quickly to ten in Latin.
After a moment she calmed enough to continue, "And now, about your behavior in Hogwarts."
"Mother, Father insists on that." Draco replied.
"Yes, Draco, I'm aware. And I'm not telling you to change outwardly, however it would behoove you to begin mending fences *within* the Slytherin dorms. You are aware that the faction you lead in Slytherin is now a minority?"
"Impossible!" Draco blurted.
"Hardly." Narcissa sighed, shaking her head. Seriously, she had believed that she had taught him better than this. Social manipulation was her bread and butter. "I spoke with the Greengrass heir last week, and I trust her observations on the matter. She estimates that you currently have solid control over less than a fifth the students in Slytherin, and tenuous control over another fifth perhaps. That means that three fifths have pulled away from you, Draco."
"Greengrass. That stupid bint wouldn't know real control if it bit her on the..."
"Draco!" Narcissa's voice cracked like a whip, silencing the boy. She took a breath and elected NOT to inform him of who Daphne Greengrass considered in nominal control of the remaining three fifths, barring a few true neutrals. That would certainly not go over well, and could lead to conflicts with their guest. "Be that as it may, can you honestly say that you control all of Slytherin?"
"All the purebloods who matter." Draco boasted.
"Oh Draco," Narcissa shook her head, her voice sorrowful. "Please tell me you don't truly believe that?"
"Of course I do, why shouldn't I? The families in my hand are the purebloods in control of our world. Why would I need anyone else?"
"I don't know." Narcissa replied, ignoring her son's look of triumph, "And neither do you. And that's the point. At the very LEAST those other people are resources to be tapped. I know few, if any, of the non-purebloods in your house at the moment, so let us take your Miss Granger as an alternate example."
Narcissa delicately ignored the whispered oath of 'mudblood' from her son's mouth.
"Miss Granger, though muggle born, is by all reports one of the smartest witches seen in decades. Can you honestly say that she will never accomplish anything one such as yourself might find... useful?"
Draco scowled, "If she lives."
"Indeed. However, the point remains. And if she can accomplish something useful to you, tell me... what might a muggle-born Slytherin accomplish?" Narcissa demanded, trying for the hundredth time or more to get it through her son's skull. "There are duties and responsibilities that come with your station, Draco!"
"Duties!? To that filth?"
"No. To yourself and your family and your WORLD." She lashed out, voice crackling with anger. "I agree, Draco, that their well-being is not your direct concern. However, if improving their well-being can lead to benefits for you or your family, then you do yourself a disservice when you harm them. Can you not understand this?"
Draco closed his eyes, "I don't like them, mother. They're beneath me... us."
"I never said they weren't. However even the animals that carry our post are useful and should be treated as such." Narcissa shrugged.
"You know that father wants me to act as I do."
"And your father likely has a reason. Follow his instructions, but watch for opportunities to build your own network of allies at the same time, Draco."
Draco sighed and nodded, "I will."
Narcissa nodded in thanks, hoping that he got it. She knew that her son himself didn't really know what he really believed anymore. The act Lucius demanded wasn't alien to him by a long shot, but it wasn't entirely his true self either. At least it hadn't always been. Now? Now, she wasn't certain anymore.
She sighed, glancing at the clock, and realized that if she didn't hurry she would be late to meet Alexander. Once again a simple discussion with her son over a house elf, of all things, had exploded into a lecture.
"It's almost time, do you wish to join me to meet Alexander?"
Draco sneered in response, causing Narcissa to sigh as she left. "Very well."
In the next room, Narcissa paused, closing the door behind herself, then looked around. "Sammy?"
"Yes Mistress?" The house elf popped into place almost instantly.
"Are you alright?"
The elf pulled at her ears and nodded vigorously.
"Good. In the future, leave if Draco or my Husband threatens you with a wand." Narcissa sighed. It was stupid, really. She shouldn't HAVE to give such a command. What kind of fool tried to damage their own property? Honestly.
"Yes Mistress."
"There will be one more for supper, please set accordingly."
"I'll see it done, I promises Mistress."
"Good. You may go."
The elf popped away, leaving Narcissa to get ready to leave herself.
Xander jogged in place, feeling like a total idiot, as the portkey set him down at the MRZ of the American Embassy in London. He could have picked up a key to one of several spots, but the Embassy staff had wanted to catch him for a brief chat before he was let loose in London, so to speak.
"Ah, Mr. Harris. Pleasure to see you again."
"Miss Simmons," Xander nodded, "Good to see you."
Jennifer Simmons smiled thinly at the young man who was checking himself to see if he'd lost anything in transit. He'd given her a hell of a lot of paperwork to deal with the last time she'd met him, but given the circumstances she didn't begrudge him that. A few of the low magical marines were looking forward to his arrival, actually, and asked her to give him their regards.
Low magicals weren't terribly well received in Magical London, so they were pretty happy with both being able to pummel Sirius Black a bit, and drive the Minister around the bend by keeping him from killing Black. The fact that Alexander's whereabouts had been in question for a while had even brought up some distinctly proprietary feelings in the Marines. They sort of considered him under their protection, now that they knew a bit about him and all. He wasn't a faceless wizard, now he was a good American boy trying to do the right thing.
Marines were suckers for that sort of thing.
For now, however, she wanted a bit of a talk with Alexander herself.
"Enjoy your portkey?" She asked, smiling slightly.
He gave her a bit of a dirty look, rubbing the side of his head. "I'll let you know when my head stops spinning. God these things are killers."
"Long distance ones are the worst," Jennifer agreed as she guided him out of the MRZ. "The distance is compounded by the arc of the key."
"Bwuh?" Xander blinked, confused.
"Has no one explained how Portkeys work yet?" She asked, amused.
"Nope." Xander shook his head.
"Unlike Apparition, Portkeys are a method of moving..."
"What, Apparition? That's for moving, isn't it?"
"No. When you apparate you..." She paused, considering how to describe it, "You stop being where you are, and begin being where you're going. You never actually move through the intervening space. For this reason anti apparition wards only affect the area they cover. You could, for example, apparate from one side of Hogwarts to the other with no ill effect. Do you follow?"
"I guess so. We can apparate through Hogwarts, but not into it?"
"In a manner of speaking. Strictly speaking, of course, you don't apparate through the wards, because you don't *move* in apparition. Portkeys actually move, however."
"So what happens if you tried to portkey from one side of Hogwarts to a spot on the other?"
Jennifer grimaced, "You don't want to know, most likely. If you don't charm the key correctly, and with enough power to arc *over* the wards, then you'll contact them. Upon contact, you'll... bounce."
Xander noted the look in her face when she said that, and grimaced, "That's not good, I assume?"
"No." She shook her head. "If you connect head on, perfectly with the ward, it'll simply bounce you back the remaining distance charmed into the key. This is bad enough, mind you, because you could potentially appear encased in the soil... though it's unlikely, due to safety measures in the spell. If you glance off at an angle, however, you could find yourself reappearing hundreds of feet or more in the air. A long distance portkey could send you thousands of feet, or hundreds of miles, or even more in any direction. And the limits on the safety charms only give you a margin of error of a few tens of feet. Appear hundreds of feet below ground, and they can't help you."
"Ouch."
"Indeed. Internal Ministries and the ICW heavily patrol all major portkey routes, and anyone who places wards along those lines are liable for heavy fines, prison time, or occasionally summary execution." She said, "people who have enough power and skill can create portkeys that have a high enough travel arc to move over most wards, however. Most ministry Key Makers are highly trained for this very reason, and it's why port keys are restricted and require a ministry permit to make. Illegal portkeys are extremely frowned upon, though they're only 'massively' illegal in most nations if you sell or give them to someone else."
Xander nodded, "Cool."
She smirked, "Any way, over long distances the arc of the key has to at least match the curve of the Earth, or the key tunnels through water and dirt, using up more power. A higher arc makes it safer for the people being transported, but also makes it longer and rougher."
"I'll say." Xander rubbed the back of his head. "So that's why it's so rough coming here."
She nodded in agreement, but he frowned as a thought struck him.
"I've taken shorter range keys in the states, and those were almost as bad."
"More wards and unchecked routes," She shrugged, "They arc those keys even higher than the trans-oceanic ones."
"Ah." Xander shook his head. "Man. Brooms bind up my robes, portkeys make me dizzy to the point of yakking, and Floo travel is just plain hazardous... I think I'll stick with walking as much as possible."
"Many wizards do, those born to non magicals use normal methods for short and mid-range transport, or simply apparate." Jennifer shrugged.
"That suck too?"
She chuckled, "Ironically, many describe it as being sucked through a straw, so yes I suppose it does."
"Goody." Xander replied dryly.
"Apparition isn't bad," She told him, still smiling. "For medium range travel, it's the best I've ever used. Long range takes too much power, though, and short range... well, I like walking."
Xander nodded as they arrived at her office, and she showed him in.
"Now, while we wait for Mrs. Malfoy to pick you up, let's talk a little bit about things I'd rather you didn't do while in England this time... you know," She smiled sweetly, "things like start an international incident?"
Xander gulped.