Disclaimer is in chapter 1.

Summer vacation proceeded apace, with Xander doing his best to ignore what felt like a looming sword hanging over his head. He buried himself in his projects, his training, and his time with his friends. Evenings were often spent with Jessie and the gang, role playing or general gaming at the local comic store, while his mornings were spent sweating under the direction of Chayton and his uncle.

He was working harder than he'd ever done in his life, but Xander couldn't help but love pretty much every second of it. There was a sense of accomplishment that permeated all of it, and if he were honest with himself, Xander found himself becoming addicted to it. The feeling that he'd done something was unlike anything else he could describe.

He just had to keep chasing that sensation.

Hermione looked up from her reading, the sound of a local apparition was distinctive and she couldn't help but reach down for her wand. Time spent with Harry had left her just a tad paranoid, she supposed, but there it was.

The polite knock at the front door caused her to relax as she got up and made her way there, but not entirely. She checked at the window before she settled completely, then smiled and opened the door.

"Professor, welcome again," Hermione said as she greeted McGonagall.

"Miss Granger, it is a pleasure to see you again. Might I come in?"

"Of course, please," Hermione stepped aside as the Professor stepped inside. "I assume this is about the first years visit?"

"It is," Professor McGonagall said with a very slight smile. "I wanted to be sure that you were free on the weekend. Saturday, mid-morning? We'll be busy most of the day after that."

"Of course, Professor. May I ask who will be part of the group?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Mostly seventh year prefects," Minerva told her, "from all the houses… well, aside from Slytherin."

"What? Why not?"

"Slytherin prefects never volunteer," Minerva shrugged, her lips pursed in slight annoyance. "It's become almost a tradition, I'm afraid."

Hermione scowled, "That's not right. The school should be represented… ohh, that just makes me so…"

She paused, eyes narrowing, "Please, Professor, does it have to be Prefects?"

"Well, no, but why?"

"What if I could find a Slytherin to represent the house?" Hermione asked, eyes shining slightly.

Minerva had a bad feeling about that, as there really was only one Slytherin she could imagine Miss Granger reaching out too. However, he was in the Colonies at the moment, so she supposed it wouldn't hurt to allow the girl to try. It seemed wrong to deny her, after all, since the lack of a Slytherin representative hurt even Minerva's sense of fairness.

"Very well, Miss Granger," She acceded, "If you can convince a Slytherin to join us, feel free."

"Oh thank you, Professor." Hermione was all smiles at that, an infectious state McGonagall found.

She almost didn't regret giving her permission.

Almost.

Xander's spell phone chimed as he was completing work on a DIY Broomstick kit he'd picked up in Three Angels. The charms were simple enough, and the rune work had already been done by the company, so he'd finished the job in only a couple hours.

He had picked up a couple other kits, figuring he could experiment with one and give the other to Harry as a belated birthday gift.

"Yo," He said as he flipped open the spell phone.

"Xander, it's Hermione…"

Friday.

"You're going back to England early?" Willow looked hurt, "but why?"

"Hermione asked for a favor," Xander shrugged with a half-smile. "Besides, I wanted to test out some things."

He was packing up his clothes and experiments, shrinking the chest as they talked.

Willow followed him as he carted everything up to the ground floor and made his way over to the Indian, starting to load the bike up.

Her eyes widened, "You're not taking THAT with you are you?"

"Of course I am," Xander grinned, "You think I'd leave it here?"

"Xander Lavelle Harris, that is not safe!"

"Oh relax, Wills," Xander said as he secured the truck on the rear fender, then slid his shrunken door into the saddlebags. "It'll be fine."

"Ohh… you…" She growled.

Xander hugged her, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I always worry," She admitted.

"Look, I'm just going early to show some kids around Diagon as a favor to Hermione." He said, "it's not like I'm going hunting dragons with Harry or anything."

"Don't even joke about that, it sounds too much like something you'd do," Willow grumbled, giving in. "Have you told Wednesday yet?"

He nodded, "I called her on the spell phone right after I hung up with Hermione. She's spending time with her family anyway, I'll see her in Scotland."

"I wish I were going."

Xander nodded, "I wish you were too. You'd love Hogwarts, Wills."

Willow nodded into his chest, hugging him tighter. She knew he was right about that and, not for the first time, cursed her Father for being such a bigot when it came to magic.

"You've told everyone else too," She said after a moment and they separated.

"Yeah, mum and dad are good. I'm fifteen now," Xander said, "Almost sixteen. That's practically an adult on the Magic side of things. I've got money, transport… hell, Wills, you, me, and Jess always planned our road trip… I guess I'm just getting one up one you, right?"

"Right," She smiled.

Xander closed the snaps on his saddlebags and checked the straps holding the trunk on the rear fender, then drew his curse wand and slid it into the sheath on the right hand handlebar. It wasn't a Tommy Gun, and didn't look half as good, but it was somehow right to put it there anyway.

Xander straddled the bike, checking the mechanism and finally the portkey set between the bars among the few gauges. He tapped it with his Ollivander wand, registering it for London.

"You'll call when you get there?"

"Let me get a hotel room first, ok Wills?" Xander asked, grinning.

"Right after that then," She said firmly.

"You've got it."

Willow sighed, but stepped back. "Have a good year, Xander."

"You too," He told her as he kicked the engine of the bike into operation.

The roar filled the air as Xander tapped his foot down and put some throttle to the bike, causing it to rumble out of the shop and into the junkyard. Willow was still waving at him as he accelerated down through the piles of old cars and junk, picking up speed until he pulled back and roared into the air on the old WW2 motorcycle.

He put it into a steep climb and gunned it, hanging on tight as the bike headed up and to the East as fast as it could manage. The Junkyard, then Sunnydale, and soon the coastline shrunk behind him and Xander had to level out to hit himself with warming and bubblehead charms.

He remembered Sirius advice on using the portkey and resumed climbing after that, getting up to high that the sky above him was a deep blue unlike anything he'd ever seen. The horizon was more white than blue, and there was almost a curve to it before Xander decided he was high enough.

The portkey activated on command, sweeping him and his bike off through a tornado of motion as Xander hung on for dear life.

Saturday.

Hermione brushed some dirt off her robes as she looked over the street outside the leaky Cauldron with some disdain.

"Someone really should clean his place," She complained.

Minerva sighed in agreement, but didn't say anything. The parents were gathering just beyond the wardlines with the fresh first years and now wasn't the time for that conversation.

"It's time, everyone," She said, "Let us greet our new students, shall we?"

Everyone agreed and started moving forward, leaving Minerva to catch Hermione on the shoulder briefly. "I'm sorry your Slytherin friend couldn't come."

"Oh, he'll be here, Professor," Hermione said confidently. "He said so."

Keeping a polite smile on her face to mask her dismay, Minerva nodded and followed the students out to where they greeted the group of parents and future students beyond. She had hoped that Mr. Harris would have chosen to spend his time with his family or something rather than join them. She still felt somewhat queasy about the boy and the yule ball or, rather, what preceded it.

For the moment, however, she pushed her best face forward and greeted the gathered parents.

"Welcome everyone," Minerva said, "If you'll all stick close, we'll guide you through the wards and into Diagon Alley."

The muggle parents nodded, a little nervously for the most part, but no one seemed too afraid so it was all going to plan for the moment. Minerva and the Hogwarts Prefects who'd volunteered for the day led them in and through the Leaky Cauldron, out to the back wall that led to Diagon. Minerva produced her wand with a flourish and tapped out a pattern on the bricks, smiling as the nervous muttering vanished as the bricks ground against one another and the wall opened up onto the Alley beyond.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," She said as they were all bustled through. "Now, stay close and I'll give you a quick tour on our way to Gringotts where…"

A loud raport, almost like apparition, followed by a sound Minerva had not heard in… Sixteen years… caused her to break off and look up automatically.

An olive green flying motorcycle appeared in the air, farther down the alley, flying in their direction. It slowly descended as people scattered clear of its way, and landed with a rough bang as it sunk deep on its shocks, and rolled to a stop just in front of them.

Minerva had brought her wand up, half expecting to be faced with Sirius Black in that moment, but almost wished she had been when she recognized the grinning face of young Mr. Harris looking in their direction.

"Sorry I'm late," He said, smiling, "Jet lag… well, port key lag, but same thing really. Hey there, Her My Own Ninny, how was your summer?"

The one consolation Minerva had was that, at that moment when she heard Miss Granger's groan, at least she knew that she wasn't the ONLY one to regret the invitation to Mr. Harris.

Hermione was torn between hexing her so called friend, despite the threat of underage magic, and burying herself into the nearest hole she could possibly find. Since neither of those seemed like good ideas, she firmly shoved the name aside and focused on what she was seeing in front of her.

"Alexander Levalle Harris, just what do you think you're doing flying that… that…" She searched for the right word to describe it.

"Illegal monstrosity," Minerva McGonagall said dryly.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione nodded, "that illegal monstrosity!?"

"Excuse me," Xander chuckled as he got off and unsnapped the saddle bags, pulling his door out. "There's nothing illegal about this monstrosity."

"Mr. Harris, it is quite illegal to charm muggle artifacts…" Minerva lectured instantly.

"No charms on the bike, it's enchanted," Xander corrected her, "along with a few runic arrays."

Minerva hesitated, then grimaced, "Yes well, be that as it may…"

Xander walked around in front of the bike, planting the base of the door on the cobblestone as he glanced at the gaping crowd behind the Professor, "Hey everyone, be right with you."

He hooked his foot into the base, then pulled the door up. It smoothly expanded as designed until he had a full size door standing in the middle of the alley. Xander casually flicked his wand at the bike, scarifying the tires, then opened the door to reveal a room beyond. While everyone was still gaping he kicked the bike off the stand and rolled it casually inside.

When he reappeared, Xander was pulling a dark green cloak over his shoulders and sealing it down the front as he casually kicked the door shut behind him. He straightened his cloak, glancing over at Hermione as she glared at him.

"How do I look?"

Her barely audible growl wasn't exactly the answer he was going for, but Xander figured it was the best he was going to get. He collapsed the door, then casually picked it up like a briefcase and turned back to the group.

"Have we done introductions yet, Professor?" Xander asked with a totally unapologetic grin.

Minerva grimaced, but finally gave up.

"Everyone, this is Mr. Harris, a representative of the school's fourth house, Slytherin." She said, gesturing in his direction.

Xander waved at the group, grinning at the kids. "How do you guys like magic so far?"

One of them, a boy, just shook his head, clearly in awe. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"Simon!" His mother, or so Xander assumed, snapped out of her daze, "Language!"

That shook everyone out of the shock as many laughed at poor Simon, who was blushing now and trying to hide his face.

"It rather is, isn't it?" Xander asked, laughing. "I've never regretted choosing magical education, that's for sure."

"You were born with, erm… what do you folk call it?" One man blinked, thinking furiously, "Muddles?"

"Muggles," Xander offered, "and sort of. I was born to what you lot over this side of the pond call Squibs. I prefer the term Latents myself. I lived in a non-magical home until I was eleven, though, same as you kids."

"You seem to have adapted," The same man offered.

"I like to think so, um?" Xander looked at him questioningly.

"Apologies," The man said, "Bernard Cowell."

"Nice to meet you," Xander said, nodding as he glanced around.

The Alley had given up interest in his arrival by this point, the unusual only caught the attention of Magicals for a few scant seconds as a matter of course, then it was old hat. So now things were getting back to normal and people were getting back about their business.

"So, professor, what's the first stop?" He asked.

Minerva sighed, "We're going to tour the Alley on our way to Gringotts."

"Ah," Xander nodded. "Well, shall we then?"

"Pardon," A younger man, Xander figured for early thirties maybe, "but how did you do that?"

"Do what?" Xander asked, "I did a few things…"

"Umm… any of it?"

"We don't have time to describe every law Mr. Harris has broken in the last five minutes," Minerva grumbled.

"What sort of laws?" Cowell asked.

"Underage magic, illegal charms, illegal modification of muggle artifacts…"

"Ahem," Xander cleared his throat, holding up one finger, "point of order… I've not broken any laws."

"Mister Harris, you are underage…"

"I'm American," Xander said, "while I am bound by the Statute of Secrecy, British Underage laws don't apply."

Minerva glowered, "You still illegally modified that muggle contraption…"

"Already covered that, it's enchanted, not charmed." Xander wagged his finger.

"There's a difference?" Cowell asked, clearly confused.

"Absolutely," Xander said, "in non-magical terms it's the difference between… hum… well, I don't know if there's anything I can really compare it to. However it's illegal to charm non-magical items, just in case they fall into the hands of non-magicals. Enchantments and runes aren't covered in those laws, however, because not many people are going to be careless with anything that expensive."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, you most assuredly must have broken some law flying that… thing in here."

"Maybe a couple minor ones," Xander shrugged, "but I can't think of what they might be. At any rate, we can continue the discussion as we walk. Daylight is burning, as they say."

The group made their way through the Alley, heading toward the white marble face of Gringotts that lay down at the end of the road. McGonagall watched and calmly answered direct questions while the prefects pointed out the sights and various attractions of Diagon, while occasionally shooting glowers at Xander who was fielding near constant questions from the soon to be first years they were escorting.

"What's Hogwarts like?"

Xander smiled at the little girl who'd spoken up, "It's a huge castle with magic everywhere, ghosts, flying sports, all sorts of magical animals in the area… it's pretty great."

"Ghosts?" She asked, looking stricken.

"Ah don't worry… um, what's your name?" Xander paused, looking down at her.

"M.. Maria."

"Don't worry, Maria," He said again, "Ghosts are pretty harmless, even if a little spooky. Sometimes they'll even help you with your homework."

She giggled at that, but looked a little unsure all the same.

"Flying sports?" Cowell spoke up again, "Is that safe?"

"Perfectly safe, I assure you Mr. Cowell," Minerva said sternly.

Xander laughed at her, drawing her ire and a sharp look from the parents. He raised his hands, "Sorry Professor, just couldn't help but think of Harry."

"Yes, well Mr. Potter is hardly the normal example." Minerva sighed exasperatedly.

"That's true enough," Xander looked back to Cowell, "Safe is a relative term, Sir. I'll be honest, as non magicals, you probably wouldn't last more than a few days in Hogwarts without being seriously injured."

Several people hissed, including Professor McGonagall as she glowered at him darkly.

"However, your kids are Magical." He said firmly, "So it's not a problem for them. The school sport, Quidditch, is played on brooms twenty feet off the ground and better than fifty miles per hour. Usually, unless Harry is playing, no one gets hurt. If they do, the school nurse has them back on their feet in a few minutes. Kids get hurt more playing football. Magic is just awesome that way."

He glanced at the boys, half of whom had their hands up, "No, first years don't get to play on the house teams."

All but one of the hands dropped, disappointed noises coming from them. Xander smirked and nodded to the remaining hand. "Name first, then ask."

"Brian, Sir. Brian Smythe." The boy said, "and I was just wondering who this Harry was?"

"Ah, Harry Potter," Xander responded, wrapping an arm around Hermione and pulling her over, "You should ask Her My Own… Ow!"

Hermione, glaring at him, primly dusted her hands off from where she had jabbed him in the ribs.

"I'm Hermione," She said, introducing herself to Brian, "and Harry is my best friend."

"Vicious girls," Xander grumbled, rubbing his ribs as the kids laughed at him. "Harry is also the school's star player. He only has two speeds, though. Stop and damn the torpedoes."

That seemed to amuse the parents more, and even Hermione and McGonagall smiled at it… albeit with more than a hint of exasperation between them.

"In that, Mr. Harris is entirely correct," Minerva spoke up, "Mr. Potter has no sense of restraint while playing, and it has led to him spending quite a lot of time in the nurses wing."

"Keeping in mind, Harry's been hurt in ways that would probably have crippled him in any normal school," Xander said, "but never spends more than overnight in the infirmary. Magical medicine is very good, so while danger is relative, for the kids the school really isn't any worse than most active schools anywhere else."

He was lightly skipping over the various… incidents… that had occurred since he'd been going there, but honestly to Xander's mind those were pretty minor anyway. He didn't think McGonagall would appreciate him bringing all that up, either.

They came to a stop outside Gringotts, causing Minerva to check their numbers again and nod to the parents.

"You can change your money over in the bank," She gestured, starting up the marble stairs.

"Hang on," Here Xander cut in again, "Time out for a sec."

He looked over the parents seriously, remembering some of the advice Gomez had offered him.

"The bank is run by Goblins," He said, "Be polite, don't try small talk, and whatever you do… do not try to negotiate with them. Not until you know the rules and have some muscle to back you up."

"Why would we try to negotiate with them?" Cowell asked, frowning.

"Because their exchange rate isn't all that great," Xander admitted, "and if you were to even comment on it, one of the tellers would likely offer to lower it. Don't. They will cheat you and rob you blind."

"Xander! I can't believe you'd say that, I'm sure that the Goblins are more than fair," Hermione pouted at him.

Xander spared her a glance, "Oh they're scrupulously fair, or at least honest, but when Goblins meet someone new that's how they test him. There are only two sorts of strangers that a Goblin will never cheat… children, and the mentally infirm. In fact, to them, if they don't try and cheat you… they're basically saying that you're not fit to handle your own finances. That's a mortal insult to a Goblin."

"Won't they try and cheat us anyway, then?" Cowell asked.

"No," Xander shook his head, "Right now you're all covered under the treaty of 1714. That means that you pay a little more on the exchange, but have protections and rights enforced by the ministry. If you haggle with them, they'll HAPPILY drop the exchange rate, but you'll lose all those other protections. So just… don't, ESPECIALLY if they offer."

"Why especially?" Cowell asked, confused.

"Because that probably means you have some serious money to your name and they're interested in snaking it out from under you." Xander looked them all over, "So for today, please… play it safe, don't haggle. If you're thinking about it, talk to me later and I'll get you some information on the protections of the treaty of 1714."

The parents nodded thoughtfully as Minerva looked them all over.

"In this, at least, Mr. Harris is entirely right. Now, into Gringotts, shall we?"