Disclaimer is in chapter 1.
Once the furor of laughter and flushing humiliation on Hermione's part had died out, she turned her focus back to the little device Xander had gifted to her.
"This really is a brilliant piece of spell work," She said after having examined it, "I didn't see any notes you had on anything like this?"
"I made most of them just before and after school this year," Xander shrugged.
"You went from concept to this in less than a month?"
"It's mostly just ripped off from the phone company, you know. I didn't have to design anything, hell I even took the looks from Kirk's communicator." Xander laughed.
"Bloody brilliant, I wondered why it looked familiar." Daniel muttered, chuckling.
"It's just the protean charm linked into some runic identifiers. Ironically, it's a lot simpler to charm that way than the linked mirrors some magicals use." Xander said, picking at the plate of snacks Emma Granger had produced.
"Mirrors?" Emma asked, interested.
"Kinda like the whole Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall bit." Xander explained, "But you can talk to someone who has a matching mirror. Those all work on voice commands, and the spell work is kinda intense from what I can tell."
"Even so, this is excellent work. You have one, and Wednesday I assume?"
Xander nodded, "I'm A. , and Wednesday can be dialed at W. . Yours is H. , but we can change them if you have a combination you prefer."
"Fantastic. I do want to see your notes." Hermione said pointedly. She then paused and glanced at her parents, thinking for a moment, "Xander... do you... do you have an extra for my parents?"
The two adults looked at each other, surprised, then turned back to Xander as well.
"Not at the moment," Xander said, noting the disappointment on each of their faces, "But really, Hermione, just leave yours here with them for the year. You know mine or Harry's will be there for the asking."
Her eyes widened, and she nodded, "of course, you're right. Thank you."
Xander just smiled and waved it off, suddenly mindful of the fact that he could only do that because she was a friend, otherwise it would be rude. That resulted in him slapping the side of his head, and groaning in dismay at how insidiously Mrs. Malfoy's lessons had sunk into his head.
"Xander?" Hermione had leaned back slightly, "What's wrong?"
"Just trying to slap these stupid comportment lessons out of my head." Xander admitted, "You wouldn't happen to know the memory charm would you?"
"Xander! That's very dangerous."
"I'm joking, Hermione." Xander told her, rolling his head, "If you wiped my mind, Mrs. Malfoy would just make me learn it all over again. I'm NOT going through that more than I have to."
"Malfoy?" Hermione suddenly looked guarded, "What do they have to do with anything?"
"I'm staying there while school his out this summer," Xander admitted. "Among other things it's a little bit of family networking. She's also got me working on a project for her and Harry's Godfather."
Now Hermione was just totally lost. Everything Harry had said about Sirius was practically glowing, but now he was working with the Malfoy's? Something was starting to stink.
Xander, however, could practically read her thoughts just by watching her face twitch and smiled. "Relax. This has nothing to do with the Malfoy's, really. It's about the Blacks."
"Pardon," Dan broke in, "Who are these people, and why is my daughter looking about ready to break into a rant?"
"Daddy! I am not!"
He merely raised his eyebrows and sat back, giving her a pointed look.
"The Blacks and Malfoys are two Wizarding families, purebloods." Xander explained, cutting into Hermione's building head of steam. "The Malfoy's are... the expression my mother used was Neuveau Riche. New Money. The Blacks, well, they're... not. I'm not entirely sure of the history, but around twenty to twenty five years ago, the up and coming head of the Malfoy clan managed to secure marriage with one of the Black Sisters. It was an arranged marriage, a lot like buying a car is an arranged relationship. Malfoy paid a small fortune to then Baron Black, and received the hand of Narcissa Black in return, she was eleven at the time. Now, the marriage didn't happen until she finished school, but that was the deal."
Hermione was practically quivering in place, face turning red in outrage at the sheer idea, but her parents nodded in understanding.
"Gave him respectability, then?" Dan asked.
Xander nodded, "Right. He's used it well, too. It, along with a lot of his money, kept him out of prison when the war ended, and he's probably the third most powerful man in the Wizarding World at the moment."
"That figures." Dan muttered, "Alright, so why is Hermione so het up over this?"
"Lucius Malfoy is also probably the most likely person, at the moment, to either kill Harry Potter, or order him killed." Xander admitted candidly. "And, given the opportunity, he'd do the same to Hermione."
Hermione's eyes widened in terror, not at Xander's implications, but at how her parents might react to it.
"Why?" Emma muttered, leaning closer, her face horrified.
"I expect it has to do with that pureblood thing," Daniel said with a sigh.
Xander nodded, "That's the excuse anyway. The more I look into it, though... and I have actually looked into it, and talked about it with some people who are more familiar with it than I am, it really didn't have much to do with blood."
"What?" Hermione frowned, suddenly more curious about that statement than frightened of her parents' reaction.
"Most of the Death Eaters, that's the terrorist from the war," Xander said, nodding to the two adults, "Came from up and coming families like the Malfoys, or old line families that had been nearly destroyed by Grindlewald in World War Two. The solidly entrenched purebloods didn't support the uprising for one, obvious reason. They were already in charge."
Hermione blinked.
"Think about it, Hermione. How many laws out there are blatantly in favor or purebloods in one way or another?" Xander asked, shrugging, "Hell, how many non-magical borns are there in high office? I'll tell you, none. Old Mold in his Shorts little uprising was *against* the pureblood government. You weren't there in second year when we dealt with his shade, but Riddle said that he wasn't interest in pureblood superiority, only in power."
"But why pretend to be a pureblood then?"
"He built his army right under the governments' nose, with a lot of the people in power looking the other way or actively helping him." Xander shrugged. "You should check out some of the history texts they banned here in England, it really paints the war from a different perspective. Anyway, by the time they understood that he wasn't just targeting non magicals, well... it was pretty much too late. Moldy was winning the war, right up until he came face to face with Lilly Evans."
"You mean face to face with Harry." Hermione corrected.
Xander shrugged. This was the one area that he and his teachers didn't agree on. Xander couldn't understand why everyone was so damned sure that Harry had kicked old moldy's ass. Narcissa, Sirius, even Robert, they all seemed to believe the hype of the Boy Who Lived. It didn't make any sense.
"Maybe," He shrugged, "My money is still on Lilly Evans, though. She was a fully trained witch, by most accounts a member of the Department of Mysteries, and an expert on ancient magics. Who almost destroyed the Dark Lord? Her, or a one year old toddler?"
"Sounds sensible to me," Daniel Granger put in, impressed with the young man in front of him. "You studied this war?"
Xander nodded, "Also both sides of World War Two, and the American Civil War. One of my teachers is, well... he was present in both."
Dan stared at him, eyes wide, "You know someone who was alive in the American Civil War."
"Alive and in command of one of the Armies of the South." Xander replied with half a smile. "He's almost two hundred years old now, talking with him about the things he's seen beats our history class any day of the year."
"I'll say... wait, BOTH sides of World War Two?" Daniel asked, leaning forward.
"Well, on the Wizarding side of the war it wasn't really world war two. You see, World War One never ended." Xander explained, "Grindlewald just retreated to regroup his forces. Allied Magicals couldn't get through his defenses, so they tried to box him in. Didn't work."
"Never does." Dan rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, Grindlewald was one of those bad guys who actually lived up to his hype by all accounts," Xander said, "in the lull between wars in the non-magical world, he started reaching out to the groups that eventually became the fascists, nudging them along with some money here, a little compulsion charm there, whatever it took. When he was ready to make his move again, he timed it to match up with Hitler's push into Poland. What isn't in the non-magical books is that the Nazi rush into Poland annihilated a magical community of over eight thousand. In the process, Grindlewalds agents snuck in and stole two of the magical world's most powerful protective magics, the last crop of Fire Flowers, and the Magical Belt of Poland."
Hermione's gasp let everyone know that she understood the meaning of the loss.
"But the fireflowers were so protected... I thought they just finally died out."
"Maybe, but not then and there," Xander said, "Robert, one of my teachers, thinks that they and the belt still exist somewhere in one of Grindlewalds old fortifications. Anyway, those where just a bonus. The real goal was made clear afterwards, when huge portions of the magical armies allied to Poland shifted to respond to the attack. Grindlewald's forces used the distraction to break out of Romania and take magical control of Germany. As the Armies started to filter back into their old posts, Grindlewald had them picked off and slaughtered one by one and in small groups. That was the official start of the Second War, from a magical perspective."
Daniel Granger leaned a little closer, fascinated. Military history had always been one of his guilty little pleasures, with the second world war being one of the most interesting because of how wide spread its effects were. Hearing it from another perspective, with more information on things happening behind the curtain, was incredibly interesting. It helped as well that the young man speaking obviously loved the subject himself.
"Anyway, we're getting off track here to be honest," Xander said as he checked his watch, "And I've got another meeting I have to make. So I'll cut it short by saying that my original point is that the Dork Lord guy who waged the last war here in England was actually in an uprising against the *pureblood* held government. To be honest, he likely could have gone the other way, and picked non-magical borns as the group to 'champion'. He probably didn't because of the advantage he got while building his army, though. Old money from dying families who were looking for any way back to glory, new blood from the newly rich families who were chafing under the control of the Wizengamot, and finally a free pass from the only people who really had any chance of stopping him. The Wizengamot knew what he was doing, almost from the start, but didn't care because he was targeting non magicals. And basically, that's the same group of people who are still in charge today."
"Bleedin wonderful, then isn't it?" Daniel muttered.
Xander shrugged with half a smile, "And since Lucius Malfoy is one of those people, and one of the terrorists who fought in the war... allegedly anyway, you can see why Hermione is concerned. I'll say this, though, Herms..."
Hermione glared at him when he shortened her name.
"Narcissa isn't anything like her husband, and in school, her best friends were Alice Prewitt, a puff who married Frank Longbottom..." Xander paused, smiling at Hermione's jump as she recognized the name, "And Lilly Evans. You know who she married, right?"
Hermione blinked, shocked into silence as she leaned back.
"And you know me," Xander went on, "So please, trust me, I'm not joining with Lucius on anything. Hell, I didn't even show your letter to Mrs. Malfoy."
Hermione swallowed, but nodded. "Alright, I'll trust you, but be careful."
Xander chuckled, "I'm not the one who keeps getting into adventures. Tell that to Harry when you chat next."
She scowled at him, "Dementors. Basilisk. Troll."
"Hey! You really want to start comparing life threatening situations here in front of your parents?"
Hermione blanched white as her parents glared pointedly at her.
"Thought not." Xander smirked, "Anyway, I have to go. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, it has been a pleasure. Thank you for inviting me into your home. Please, if there's anything you need feel free to contact me, and I'll be waiting for news concerning the tailor, yes?"
"Of course," Emma said, smiling at the sudden shift to formality in the young man. "I'll have Hermione call you on your... spell phone."
"Perfect. Until the next time, then."
The Knight Bus was far from an ideal method of travel, in Xander's opinion. The driver was a lunatic, the bus had beds, and nothing was bolted down. This particular combination led to a number of the craziest things Xander had ever seen on a moving vehicle in his life during the short ride between Hermione's neighborhood and Little Whinging, Surrey.
The bus was played up as 'emergency transport for the stranded wizard', but in reality it was a bus like any other. It had its normal routes and its scheduled pickups and drop offs, as well as regular bus stops where it was preferred that Wizards would meet it. Like anything wizards had a hand in, however, it went beyond all that as well. A wave of a wand, combined with a little fear or desperation, and the Bus would zero in on you like a smart bomb and pick you up anywhere you might be.
Useful to say the least.
For now, though, Xander was going from official points of embarkment and drop off only, since it was easier on the bus charms, not to mention the poor non magicals who inevitably had to be obliviated if and when those charms blinked, as they often did.
Frankly, he could have done without the ride.
His steps meandered, almost drunkenly across the sidewalk as he made his way up Privet Drive, coming to a stop at Number Four. It was a suburb home, the same cut as every other in site, and the same as dozens of others he'd passed to get there. The lawn was immaculate, and the garden outside impressive, but in general it was perfectly normal.
Boring.
Xander was already missing his junkyard, to be honest.
That thought in mind, and a grin on his face, he made his way up the driveway and walked to the front door. A quick ring of the bell brought a rumbling from inside as someone shouted, "I'll get it!"
Xander blinked in surprise as he heard thunderously loud footsteps and actually saw the walls quiver slightly as the steps got closer.
' Damn, does Hagrid live here or something? ' Xander thought, amazed by the growing volume.
The door was wrenched open and an obese man looked out, then down at Xander.
"Well?" The man rumbled, "Who are you?"
"Alexander Harris, Sir. Vernon Dursley, correct?"
"That's right boy, what is it now? I'm a busy man."
"I'm here to see Harry Potter."
Mr. Dursley shifted from indifferent to nearly vibrating in place as he glared down at Xander. "There's no Potter here!"
The door slammed in Xander's face, causing him to fall back a step in surprise.
"Whoa." He muttered, looking around.
Had he gotten the wrong place? He didn't think so. Besides, it was Vernon Dursley. Maybe he had the wrong Dursley, though? No, Xander shook his head, Narcissa's information confirmed the address and came from an entirely separate source.
Xander stepped back and looked up at the house. This had to be the right place, didn't it?
That was when a whisper from above caught his attention.
"Psst. Xander, is that you?"
"Harry?" Xander looked up, craning his neck. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah. Just locked in my room."
"What for?"
"Nothing, just finished my chores for the day."
' Oh Boy. ' Xander sighed. Things were apparently worse than he'd thought, and maybe worse than Sirius had feared. "Alright, I'll be right up."
"Xander? What? No!"
Xander ignored him and hammered on the door until he once more heard the sound of the land whale approaching.
The door flung open as the red faced man glared out, "I bloody well told you, there's no Harry Potter here."
Xander glared back, clearing his jacket like a Wild West gunfighter, and exposing the two wands tucked into his belt.
"Mr. Dursley," He said through clenched teeth, "I'm here to speak with Sir Potter on behalf of his Godfather, The Lord Baron Black. Now, you have two options. You can smile politely so all your neighbors can see, and invite me in... Or I can clear your bulk from my road and invite myself."
Dursley reddened even more, making Xander think that the man wasn't long for the world with blood pressure like that. "Don't try to threaten me, boy. You're from that school of your kinds, and I know you can't use magic during the Hols."
Xander smiled thinly, purposely adopting a really bad Texas twang to his voice as he spoke. "Well now, ya see we have a problem. First thang is, I'm an American. So you see, I don't much expect your ministry to be able to monitor me. Second thang, well I'm an American. We shoot first and worry about the consequences later, ain't that right?"
He closed his hands over both wands, smiling nastily at the fat man until Dursley went pale and fell back a step.
"Please... come in." Vernon choked out. "I'll get the boy for you."
"Why thank you," Xander said, tipping his head slightly, "That's mighty kind."
He stepped inside while Vernon blundered up the stairs, not bothering to close the door. Xander slid it shut softly and looked around the inside of the home. It was pristine and smelled vaguely of antiseptic, everything in its place and nothing worn or even used as far as he could tell. It looked like it was waiting for people to move in, not like a home that had been lived in for decades.
"Xander?" Harry spoke from the top of the stairs. "Why are you here?"
Xander smiled, which turned into a bit of a smirk as he drew himself up right, conscious of the eyes of Vernon Dursley as well as a woman and fat boy from the far end of the hall.
"Sir Potter, I bring you a message from your Godfather, the Lord Black in Exile."
Xander took a certain unholy pleasure in the audible moment of shock that rolled over the occupants of the house, and barely refrained from giggling at the sight of Harry's face alone.
Sunnydale.
Jessica Lavelle Harris stood frozen in shock for a moment when she saw who was at the door.
"L... Lady Lavelle." She swallowed, backing away to admit the old woman. "Welcome to my home once more."
"Jessica." The Lady nodded her head slightly as she stepped in. "It is good to see you again."
"What brings you by now? Alexander has returned to England..."
"I know, I'm here to speak with you on other matters, Jessica." The Lady Lavelle said as she accepted a seat in the living room.
"Of course." Jessica ducked her head, "I'll prepare refreshments..."
"No need. Please, sit. We have things to discuss."
Jessica sat down with trepidation, trying to figure out why the reigning matriarch of her Line was sitting in her living room.
"Relax, Jessica, it's nothing bad." Lady Lavelle smiled reassuringly.
Jessica swallowed, but nodded.
"Tell me, have you considered having any more children?"
Jessica blinked, then stared owlishly. "What?"
"I'm curious, have you and Tony thought about having a larger family?"
' She called Tony by his name! ' Jessica thought, shocked. The Lavelle branch didn't have much care for the Harris family, not even their wizards, let alone low magicals.
"I... I can't say that we have, not seriously." Jessica stammered out, "Cost of living being what it is, and... to be honest, we didn't do well with Alex when he was younger. We've made mistakes..."
"All new parents do, Jessica."
"Not like this." Jessica smiled sadly, shaking her head. "We did wrong by Alex. It's a miracle that he's as well adjusted as he is."
"Then maybe this is a chance to do things right?"
"Why are you asking this?" Jessica's mind was starting to catch up to the situation, the shock passing, and she knew that something was up. "Why now? I would have thought, maybe when Alex was discovered to be magical if at all..."
"We waited to see how he would turn out," The Lady Lavelle said with candid honesty. "We are impressed."
Jessica blushed a little, happy that her son had measured up to the standards of the family. More than measured up, to be clear. Otherwise they wouldn't care. Her mind clicked and she settled back, sighing in understanding.
"Davis." She said, nodding. "I see."
"Perhaps you do. Will you consider it?"
Jessica thought for a moment, then nodded, "I'll speak with my husband. The family will support us this time?"
Lady Lavelle nodded.
"Alright, I'll talk with Tony. We'll let you know."