Given the propensity for severe droughts affecting their region during the last few decades, Southern Californians may be easily forgiven for forgetting that occasionally it can still rain quite a lot where they live.
Xander Harris was roused from his deep snooze by the sound of water drumming heavily onto the roof of his Uncle Roy's battered '60 Ford Fairlaine. Wrapped in a variety of coverings finished off with a crumbling puke-green plastic tarpaulin scavenged from the innermost recesses of the junkheap's trunk, Xander cracked a drowsy eye half-open while lying on his back in the rear seat only to see complete darkness outside from where he'd parked his car to finish off the first day of his road trip.
That was entirely natural, since there was barely enough money in his wallet to cover basic needs and this didn't apply to such frivolities as paying for motels throughout hopefully most of the country for the summer. So, like tonight and later on, Xander planned to camp out in his car wherever nobody would bother him. He'd certainly found a good, remote spot this time, tucked in by a drainage ditch on the edge of an apple orchard outside Tehachapi when on an impulse this young man recently graduated from high school decided to head east instead of south.
The sound of pounding rain increased even more, indicating a cloudburst was probably going on outside. Warm and snug inside his cocoon of blankets, Xander gave an indifferent shrug. Hours further on in the next morning, it might be a little tricky driving off, especially if the ground was going to be very muddy, but for now that could wait. Rolling over onto his side, Xander went back to sleep.
A few yards away, the drainage ditch was being overwhelmed by far more water than it'd ever been designed for. The rushing current began undercutting away at the banks…particularly in one spot where a certain Sunnydale native had innocently decided to spend the night.
Unaware of the approaching danger, Xander kept right on snoring. He didn't even twitch when the car parked along the ditch began to slowly sag sideways due to the liquified soil underneath its right-hand wheels being sluiced downstream by the gallon at every second. Rather, he remained dead to the world at an increasing tilt upwards for his chest and higher regions.
Buffy's friend woke up real fast, though, when a sudden surge of floodwater dissolved the entire verge of the drainage ditch where the car had been resting, sending it toppling into the gully. Landing with a splash onto the right passenger door, Xander stared down with horror at how fast the water he was standing in continued to rise. His terrified gaze snapped upwards at the closed left door, which a moment later was shoved open to allow Xander to propel himself entirely out of there like a submarine-launched Polaris missile.
Landing with a sodden thud against the new face of the drainage ditch, Xander frantically clawed up this with every fingernail in addition to the toenails also busily working hard, discarding along the way all the blankets and sleepwear he'd gone to a makeshift bed with save for the tarp which remained tangled around one arm and stubbornly came along for the ride. In the still-pouring rain, Xander made it to the top of the ditch on his hands and knees.
Turning around on these, Xander squinted through the dark to watch how Uncle Roy's car below gracefully slid entirely out of sight into the water without even a few final bubbles, taking with it the rest of his clothes and his painfully-thin wallet. And it would've been him drowning inside that heap, too, if he'd just been a little slower.
Straightening up onto his knees, Xander promptly threw up all over his bare front in a natural reaction to his close escape. Gagging and spitting from the harsh taste of vomit still in his mouth, the teenager despondently tried to think of what to do now. He was stark naked, already beginning to shiver in the cold drenching rain, had no idea where the nearest help was…and felt perfectly justified in screaming to an uncaring universe at the outright top of his lungs, "THINGS JUST CAN'T GET ANY FUCKING WORSE, CAN THEY?!"
The bolt of enchanted lightning from the night clouds which then struck and seemingly vaporized into total eradication a kneeling Xander Harris might've been something of a subtle clue to any possible witness that, yes, they most obviously could for that unfortunate lad.
Lucius Malfoy stared in utmost astonishment at the limp figure now lying at the middle of the casting circle in the manor's secret basement. It'd worked! It'd actually worked, summoning a demon!
The head of an Ancient and Noble House of the British wizarding world glanced down at the centuries-old family grimoire he was still holding, trying to blink away the glare spots from experiencing the circle's protective wards flaring into blinding life mere moments ago. Lucius noted again how much more of the coercive spell needed to be said, and he took a moment to prepare himself for pouring even more of his magic into the prohibited casting absolutely forbidden by his society to ever be used by one of their own.
He yet had no choice, not after the disasters of the last several days. The loss of his master's book surreptitiously slipped into the keeping of the blood-traitor Weasley's youngest spawn, the destruction of Slytherin's basilisk by that little shite known as Harry Potter, the ensuing theft of Malfoy's house-elf…it went on and on, one catastrophe after the other. Unless Lucius acquired very quickly some sort of magically powerful asset to fend off any attempts by the authorities to bring him to justice (and more importantly, preventing the Death Eaters' leader Lord Voldemort from Crucioing him into drooling insanity), his arse was doomed.
And it was such a fine, well-bred arse, too, Lucius complacently mused.
Getting back to the truly important business of tonight, Lucius peered cautiously at the dripping, face-down, nude figure of the demon seemingly comatose at this exact moment in the circle. It looked…human?...even though most of it was covered by some sort of vile chartreuse skin of an extremely odd nature which had apparently peeled off during its manifestation from whatever seeming it normally occupied among the utmost depths of Hell.
Lucius eyed again the grimoire in his hands, wondering if this volume had anything to do with altering that demon into something more fitting for this reality—
"YAAAAAAHHHH!"
Recoiling at that unexpected bellow, Lucius gaped at where the demon had just leapt up from the circle's floor and rushed directly at the only other person in the basement, yelling all the way up to the point where the demon slammed right into the protective wards. Remaining pressed against the wards, the demon with a genuinely murderous expression on its face began to futilely claw at the magical shields.
Lucius took another precautionary step back, even though the wards looked to be holding. He really didn't want to be any nearer to that noisome demon who'd left behind its shed skin to reveal to a wincing Lucius its total male nakedness sopping all the while with disgusting fluids and slime-
"YOU! YOU BROUGHT ME HERE!"
Hearing that actually coherent roar from his kidnapped guest from the lower regions made Lucius hastily start the coercive spell which should now put the demon firmly under the wizard's control. Paying total attention to the text, Lucius recited in his firmest tone, "I claim absolute domination over you! I command you to obey fully and without protest all my instructions! I, Lucius Malfoy, head of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, declare you now and forever to be our vassal and bear unbounded fealty to our family! So mote it be!"
At that last declaration, the entire basement lit up with another flare of supernatural energies from the casting circle's wards, just as they'd done so at the end of each of Lucius' other pronouncements. Keeping his gaze down at the grimoire prevented him from being dazzled by this clear evidence of how his spell was working, Lucius finally looked up at the conclusion of his latest casting.
He saw the demon now standing there a few steps back from the edge of the wards with its…his…arms crossed over a soaked chest, and sullenly staring back at his newest liege. Feeling well pleased with how things were nicely going, Lucius closed the grimoire and haughtily demanded from the fiend he'd just summoned, "Tell me your true name, demon!"
The demon's face from under his mask of filth glowered back at Lucius for long enough to have him suddenly worry that the coercive spell had been somehow botched, only to be reassured by the demon reluctantly answer in the end, "Igor…thir."
Excellent, Lucius mentally congratulated himself. A name that was short and easy to remember, but still quite unique in his experience as fitting from a denizen of the worst abyss—
Wait a second…sir?!
Oh, no, that wouldn't do at all, a bridling Lucius immediately decided. He snapped back at the demon, "From now on, you will address me as Master, Igor!"
"Yeth, Mathter," Igor obediently responded.
Nodding with satisfaction, Lucius still paused when he finally ran through his mind again what he'd just heard through his normally impenetrable armor of pure-blood wizarding certitude.
Squinting at a deadpan Igor, Lucius with a hint of sudden suspicion presently lurking in his tone exacted from his latest minion, "Why do you have a lisp, Igor?"
Igor just looked puzzled. "What lithp, Mathter?"
Feeling that events were slipping perhaps the teeniest bit out of his control, Lucius decided to instead totally ignore what'd occurred during the last few moments as any proper Malfoy would.
Gathering up all his dignity, Lucius put the Malfoy grimoire upon the nearest lectern where it usually rested, and took up from there his snake-headed walking stick leaning against the lectern. Pulling out his wand from the top of the cane where it'd been hidden, Lucius aimed the wand at Igor who merely eyed all this with obvious resentment but otherwise didn't move.
After several castings of the Scourgify charm cleaned Igor off from top to bottom with him only gritting his teeth and enduring it throughout, another wave of the Malfoy wand transfigurated the demon's shed skin into a much more appropriate wizarding robe in ordinary black, along with Igor now being clad in a simple pair of leather shoes.
Glancing down at his new clothes with steady dislike, Igor then scowled at Lucius replacing his wand back into the walking stick after one last flick of this magical rod shut off the casting circle's protective wards. Paying no mind to his underling's grumpy mood, Lucius simply turned around with a dramatic flare of his own robe and strode toward the basement exit, calling over his shoulder, "Come along, Igor."
Xander Harris, who'd been wholly unaffected by that magical asshole's recent attempt to make him into a good little slave, hesitated just a second before following after some arrogant Limey who definitely needed to be seriously retaliated against by Xander sooner or later. Among everything else, he'd just put Xander in a dress.
*Okay,* Xander reflected, *Play along for now, but the first chance you get after finding out where exactly he was and acquiring a set of decent pants, make speedy tracks into the opposite direction from Mr. Snobby British Accent.*
At least he seemed completely clueless about the whole Igor thing which was an unthinking reaction by Xander hearing that same conceited enunciation and immediately connecting it with another English literary institution who was a personal favorite of this young American.
To be precise, one Terry Pratchett and his hilarious fantasy novels about the Discworld all which Xander had happily read, from The Colour of Magic to the latest before his road trip, The Fifth Elephant. Among them had been a certain Pratchett work which Xander couldn't help remembering which made him act reasonably compliant in behaving like he was really Malfart's demonic flunkey for now.
In Pratchett's short story titled Eric, that same named person was a 13-year-old demonologist who managed to summon Rincewind the wizard from where he'd been stranded in the Dungeon Dimensions. It all ended in comical chaos as Pratchett's books usually did, but what Xander got when he needed it after unexpectedly appearing here from California was to just go with things until he could make a successful escape and find a way back home.
Xander still positively intended to have a lot of fun throughout it all. Case in point, the "Igor" bit and the lisp, which he was gonna keep up as long as he could get away with it.
Sending a very evil grin at the back of the oblivious wand-waver he was following, Xander Harris hoped that Mr. Pratchett, wherever he was (and with any luck working on his next great Discworld book) would gladly approve of someone inspired by him gleefully bestowing disorder and turmoil to those deserving of this full-blown anarchy.
Xander followed his presumed master up a stone staircase which came out into the first floor drawing room of what looked like some huge baroque English mansion dating from the eighteenth century via a really obscure Masterpiece Theatre program with British actors nobody in America had ever heard of.
The room consisted of high ceilings at a genuinely ridiculous loftiness level, lots of paintings hung up on the walls, a hefty chandelier every swashbuckling hero from stage and screen couldn't have budged into swinging to-and-fro even if they'd all simultaneously leapt onto it, and close enough to an acre of marble floor tile to make any building contractor covetously rub their hands at the exorbitant markup they'd directly bill the client for with a discreet kickback on the side to the quarry supplier.
Normally Xander would've gawped around at his ostentatious location, but prudently keeping in mind that he was supposed to be a demon from the stygian depths of Hell who shouldn't be impressed by any of this, the young man instead plastered upon his face an expression of mild interest. That seemed to satisfy Lucius who was about to speak until he was foiled by the click of footsteps coming nearer at every stride.
Through the drawing room's main door already open, a beautiful blond woman about Lucius' age in formal robes entered in an evidently prideful mood, approaching the pair waiting for her in the middle of the room.
She nodded to the older man, "Good morning, Lucius," right before switching her haughty gaze towards Xander and continuing, "I didn't know we had guests. Who is this?"
"Ah, yes," Lucius responded, looking a little shifty at the moment undoubtedly because he would've rather have had some more time to think about just how to tactfully mention such a startling topic as recently summoning a demon to serve the Malfoy family.
Falling back on custom, he introduced, "Igor, this is Narcissa Malfoy, my wife. Narcissa, this is Igor, our newest…retainer."
Zealously responding to his cue in proper Pratchett fashion, Xander lurched forward and flailed around his arms in an alleged gesture of greeting accompanied by the deepest bow he could manage, putting his head down around the woman's knees. He finished off with a cheerful, "Abtholutely charmed, Mithtreth!"
Doing a hasty, undignified backwards hop to avoid the sudden substantial spray of saliva aimed at her lower legs, Narcissa stared in disbelief at that unmannerly lout who now straightened up and leered directly at the lovely lady. Switching her growing-wrathful stare towards Lucius who appeared resigned to what was coming, she demanded, "Lucius, is this another one of your preposterous schemes?"
"Well—"
"Why am I not surprised?" Narcissa acidly stated, cutting Lucius short. She shot another icy glare at Igor waggling his eyebrows back at her.
Uttering her most disdainful sniff, Narcissa then laid down the law to her resentful husband, "I absolutely refuse to be involved in the latest idiocy you've embroiled yourself into. At least try to avert any more embarrassment to our family while you and…he…" (the last delivered with Narcissa's best curled lip of purest scorn) "…get up to whatever absurd plots you'll soon develop, I'm sure. Good day, Lucius."
At that final statement, Narcissa wheeled around and stalked out of the drawing room, her back stiff with aristocratic outrage. Lucius sullenly watched her go, annoyed that his wife wouldn't at least listen to—
A sharp elbow companionably nudged Lucius in the ribs several times, followed by a jaunty pronouncement, "The'th jutht running over with love and encouragement, ithn't the, Mathter?"
A thunderstruck Lucius Malfoy looked at where Igor had now stepped to stand next to the older man in amicable comradeship over the downright unreasonableness of women.
Lucius coldly informed his boorish retainer, "Our marriage is no business of yours at all, Igor. Instead, I think it's time we got down to specifics on how you can best serve me—"
"Er, about that, Mathter," Igor raised a cautionary finger at a startled Lucius not expecting to be interrupted in full flow. The demon then waved his finger around the extravagant drawing room in a clear display of indicating their surroundings.
"From the look of thingth, you humanth have dithcovered and built a lot more than what I remember from my latht vithit. Thothe kindth of big changeth, that might make my aththithance much harder to accomplith, Mathter. For inthtance, do you thtill have the Black Death around here?"
"Ah…no," a nonplussed Lucius managed to answer, only to have a sudden chill run up his spine at Igor's prompt disappointed sigh.
"Thuch a pity. I alwayth thought that wath one of my better effortth."
Unconsciously edging backwards a step away from Igor appearing more doleful than usual while he was diverted by an evidently favorite memory, Lucius had to admit to himself this demon had an actual point. Igor clearly needed to learn about the current state of affairs concerning their wizarding society, or he'd have no inkling how to carry out any of Lucius' orders.
Stroking his chin in deep thought, Lucius felt the merest trace of stubble there, indicating he needed to clean up after a hard night's work in the manor's basement magically summoning Igor. In fact, a morning bath and shave, a good breakfast, and a nice nap sounded better and better.
Brightening up at this pleasant suggestion, Lucius went on to mentally remind himself he had servants to perform all the tiresome details of his life, of which bringing Igor up to speed was precisely one of them.
Opening his mouth, Lucius began speaking, "D—!" only to cut himself short, a quick expression of frustrated anger flashing over his face. No, he couldn't send for ithat/i traitorous house-elf now forever lost to Lucius, but any other of Malfoy Manor's magical creatures would do quite as well, so…
"Hoxey!"
A barefoot small man-like being with big, bulging eyes; long, skinny nose; bat-wing ears; pale grey skin; and clad in a plain brown robe popped into existence in front of Lucius, looking up at the wizard. The house-elf spoke deferentially to Lucius, "What does Master Malfoy need Hoxey for?"
Nodding towards Igor quizzically surveying the newest member of their company, Lucius told the house-elf, "Hoxey, I want—"
Once more, Lucius was interrupted in the middle of a command, only this time it was much more startling for this occasion than before. After all, neither of the other two in the room expected the house-elf to promptly shriek with absolute terror at the top of its lungs after looking straight at Igor for the first time.
"YEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Right after that loud scream, Hoxey dashed to hide behind Lucius, fearfully peering out past him to next point with a trembling finger at a truly disconcerted Xander, whose bogglement only increased when they both heard from Hoxey a moaning, "CHAOS-SOWER FROM HELL'S MOUTH! HE BRINGS DOOM TO ENEMIES AND CONFUSION TO ALLIES! MASTER, SEND HIM AWAY QUICKLY, PLEASE!"
"What in the world…", came from a bewildered Lucius who then lost his ever-short temper at Hoxey actually daring to clutch at the wizard's robe for protection.
Unless directly ordered, a house-elf had no business at all in touching him! Reaching down with quick fingers to painfully grab in a pinching hold one of Hoxey's ears, Lucius used this grip to drag the unwilling house-elf in front of him.
Letting go, Lucius then viciously cuffed his servant's head several times, shouting at Hoxey all the while, "You little beast, how dare you lay a hand on me! I should order you to properly punish yourself, but I've got a much better penalty for you! If you're so frightened of Igor, then for as long as he commands, you'll answer all his questions truthfully and obey him to Malfoy standards!"
Too busy with thrashing his house-elf, Lucius completely ignored Igor, which was perhaps for the best seeing how Xander appeared genuinely stunned at first hearing that little guy correctly identify his hometown and then take a serious beating from the robed dickface. Fists clenching, someone who'd undergone his own corporal punishment numerous times growing up for no real reason at all save for his father's usual drunkenness was about to intervene until Xander had to urgently remind himself that if he punched out Lucius Malfoy, this wizard would know for sure Igor was a total fake.
He'd been bluffing like crazy all the while ever since showing up here about being an authentic demon, with the last instance of this just minutes ago trying to buy even more time for him to think of a successful way to scram. And now, what's-his-name…Hoxey, right…actually knew about the Hellmouth. In that case, he might really be able to help send Xander back home!
A sudden glint developing in his eye, Igor cleared his throat to disrupt Lucius' further chastisement of the house-elf, "Mathter, for all intentth and purpotheth it ithn't dignified for you to perthonally reprimand that lowly worm. Ath you juth thaid, leave him to me and we will have a nice little…chat…together. It might even do him good afterwardth, thuppothing he thurviveth."
Breathing hard, Lucius balefully regarding Hoxey cowering before him and drew himself back up to his normal arrogant urbanity, flicking away a stray lock of hair which had fallen over his face.
Glancing over at the patiently waiting demon, Lucius shot him an approving glance. "Quite right, Igor. Yes, yes, be off with you both. Hoxey, take him to the green parlor and remember my instructions! Now, Igor, don't get too carried away; Hoxey is still useful enough to not be unnecessarily disposed of at the moment. I probably won't be wanting you until this afternoon, so that should give you sufficient time to learn about the latest events and whatever else occurs to you."
"Yes, Master Malfoy."
"Yeth, Mathter."
Those two deferential replies were delivered in exact synchronity, making Lucius smile tightly before he stalked out of the drawing room.
Hoxey cringingly bowed to Xander, muttering, "Follow Hoxey, Chaos-Sower."
He scurried out through a different door than what Lucius had taken, staying ahead of Xander close behind and thinking hard about getting someone obviously scared stiff to settle down enough to listen to a Sunnydale native. By the time they'd arrived at one of the luxurious rooms lining the long mansion corridor, Xander had come up with a plan.
Yeah, it was a stupid and crazy plan. But like they said, if it worked, it wasn't all that stupid and crazy.
Coming to a flinching halt in the middle of the green parlor which had evidently been called that for its emerald wallpaper, Hoxey said in a hopeless voice, "How can Hoxey help, Chaos-Sower?"
The house-elf now resigned to its fate now saw the Hell's Mouth demon standing in front of Hoxey then strike a rather bizarre pose.
This involved him stiffening his body as straight as a ruler, bringing up his right hand in a straight-finger salute against a temple, and intoning in a tone of utter seriousness: "Hoxey, I want you to use all your magical powers to see that I'm telling the truth of what comes next out of my mouth. Ready? Here goes…I swear by my twelfth-star ranking as an admiral of the Junior Woodchucks and my hard-earned title of the Towering, Unperturbable Bellwether of Brobdingnagian Adventures and Belchfiring Larruper of Unsavory Beachrats, Buccaneers, and Ecology Ravagers that I will not harm you in any way!"
He hadn't thought it was possible, but the little guy's bug eyes got even bigger right after that when it stared with sheer disbelief at Xander, just before saying, "Chaos-Sower is saying total truth to Hoxey! Even most astonishing part of swanky demon status at Hell's Mouth!"
Xander let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. Looked like the mail-order ad he and Jesse filled in from the back pages of a Walt Disney's Comics and Stories revival issue and sent in when they were both eight years old had just saved his bacon. The two reproduction scrolls they'd received as a consequence from Gladstone Publishing had been really nice too, with Jesse being awarded the same imaginary rank but a completely different title of the Tempestuous Requester of Overblown Obedience, Perfection, Enthusiasm, and Reliability as well as Propounder of Outrageously Ostentations Programs, Enterprises and Razzledazzles.
"As Hoxey said, how can he help Chaos-Sower?"
That question was delivered in a much more unafraid tone than before from the little guy, which distracted Xander from his childhood memories. In fact, Hoxey was now enthusiastically bouncing on his bare feet as if eager to get to work.
It was right on the tip of his tongue, wanting to know if Hoxey could return Xander to Sunnydale (fine, he'd settle for anywhere else at California, even), but he managed to hold it in. This was gonna be pretty tricky. No matter how cooperative the little guy seemed at the moment, he was Lucius' servant and there was no possible way he wouldn't instantly report back to that same wizard if Xander said or did the wrong thing. Like, say, quitting the Malfoy family employment without handing in his two-weeks' notice first…or even a much shorter period of less than two seconds, which Xander far preferred.
Okay, then, he needed information. Lots of this. And…come to think of it…there was one surefire way of getting it from Yoda's over-excited little brother.
"Hoxey, tell me everything about the Malfoys. How important they are, all the praiseworthy stuff they get up to, what essential magical responsibilities they brilliantly carry out to the cheers of the locals, that kind of thing."
Yeah, he was really piling high the complete and utter bullshit. Given how much Hoxey beamed while starting to answer, however, even if the little guy afterwards repeated word-for-word to Lucius what Xander had just said, that conceited wizarding asshole would still unquestionably fall for it, hook, line, and sinker.
Nearly two hours later, Xander waved Hoxey to stop talking and let him think over what he'd just learned. He definitely needed to, what with all the absolutely amazing details Xander had now acquired. Settling back in his parlor chair, Xander marveled how an entire wizarding society with their wands could hide themselves away in England from any of the normal people there having no idea about this at all.
Huh. This might even apply to Giles and the rest of the Council that Buffy's Watcher worked for. The G-man certainly hadn't even ever mentioned the possibility, not from what Xander remembered since the first occasion he and Wils met some stuffy guy in tweed at the school library years ago up to the last time they'd seen each other, about a couple days before going on his road trip.
Nonetheless, Xander focused on the most important feature he'd picked up from Hoxey, in that these wizards and witches were incredibly narrow-minded. To be specific, they were actually disdainful of what they called 'muggles', the non-magicals seriously outnumbering them.
Rolling his eyes, Xander tried imagining the outcome of a hostile encounter between a bunch of so-called Death Eaters and the SAS, the special forces unit of the British Army. Someone with a magic stick that couldn't cast a spell further than a hundred feet after needing several seconds to meanwhile say the spell against a trained military sniper with telescopic sights firing from 800 meters away? No contest.
It did explain why Lucius was so gullible regarding muggles. That still had Xander searching to no avail for a way back home—
While he considered that, Xander's stomach growled loudly, pausing his thoughts as the young man looked down in sudden astonishment at that part of his body from where this hungry sound had just announced itself. Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten since last night and it was about mid-morning or later on here, so naturally he could use a bite to eat.
Indeed, Hoxey urged, "Does Chaos-Sower want food now?"
The house-elf looked rather unsure after saying that, to next continue in a quite nervous voice, "Er…Hoxey does not think Master Malfoy would approve of you requesting babies to eat."
Xander shot an incredulous stare at the fidgeting little guy, only to remember he was supposed to be passing himself off as some demon from a hell dimension with a presumed fondness for broiled, baked, or grilled infants.
Just barely suppressing a snigger of purest black humor, Xander cleared his throat and complimented Hoxey, "Good thinking, little dude. Wouldn't want to upset his high-and-mightiest. Is there anything else you could get for me?"
Hoxey brightened up at his job suddenly becoming much easier. "A full breakfast can be served right away, honored Chaos-Sower. Is this satisfactory?"
"Sure—" Xander began, only to have his jaw drop at how Hoxey promptly vanished with a Pop! sound and just as quickly reappeared with the same aural effect. Only, this time, the house-elf's return was accompanied by the parlor table being unexpectedly covered with numerous plates all filled with assorted foodstuffs.
Xander continued to gawk at what he soon identified as piles of bacon, over-easy eggs, sausage, blood pudding, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, finished off with baked beans on toast. Shaking his head in wonder, Xander pulled up the chair to the table edge, collected a knife and fork from the silverware also present (with an ornate 'M' crest on the handles, of course), and got ready to feast. Just before making the first stab at his eggs, Xander turned to where Hoxey was patiently waiting for any more commands.
"Um, can you get me today's local paper? It's okay if you can't—"
Pop! Hoxey placed a newspaper on Xander's left side of the table, front page up.
"Thanks, Hoxey," Xander mumbled through his mouthful of eggs, ignoring how the house-elf stiffened with pride to instead eye with growing disbelief at how the Daily Prophet newspaper's photos were not only animated but also seemed to react to Xander looking at them.
Fifteen minutes later, Xander scraped clean the final plate, a last crumb of toast with its single solitary baked bean upon it brought to his mouth with the fork to be devoured. Leaning back in the parlor chair, Xander patted his bulging belly with satisfaction while Hoxey popped away with the finished dishes. The Sunnydale native cast a casual glance at the newspaper he'd finished reading through—
The delicious breakfast he'd just consumed swiftly congealed into an icy lump within his stomach. With a hammering heart, Xander croaked, "Hoxey!"
Pop! The house-elf was back again in the parlor to ask, "Yes, Chaos-Sower?"
"What— what's today's date?" Xander barely got through the big lump in his throat.
Hoxey showed how inhuman he was by not enquiring as to why Xander wanted to know that or pointing out the answer to this was printed right on the newspaper laid out upon the table. Instead, he obediently replied, "June 21, 1993. Is there anything else you need to know?"
Closing his eyes, Xander said in a very defeated mutter, "Not really, Hoxey. You can go back to your usual jobs. I need to be alone for a while."
Dutifully following his new orders, Hoxey disappeared from the parlor, leaving Xander to his requested solitude. After a minute or so, the young man leaned forward in his chair to rest his forehead upon the table to then groan out loud with utter dejection, "Ohhhhh, shit!"
Apparently, the spell which had brought him all the way to England from the United States hadn't just magically transported him several thousand miles, it'd also put him into the past! Today's date at Malfoy Manor, that'd already happened to Xander six years ago!
In his whirling thoughts, Xander tried to remember what he'd been doing exactly around then… Offhand, probably going with Jesse and Willow to see Jurassic Park when Spielberg's dinosaur movie had first come out.
His glum mood grew even worse when Xander had to painfully accept the complete shambles of the brilliant inspiration which occurred to him during breakfast and had really cheered him up at the time. Now, though, he felt totally miserable at losing the chance of getting in touch with the Watchers Council in London the first chance he could sneak away from Lucius Malfoy.
It was all so unfair! If this was actually the summer of 1999 like what he'd been living in back home, Xander would've been acknowledged by the Watchers Council as one of the Slayer's friends who helped this superhuman girl fight Sunnydale's vampires and other demons. Yeah, so things were currently pretty tense between those bunch of British guys and Buffy, what with the whole stupid Cruciamentum situation plus how the Council failed to provide any actual support for the Scooby Gang during Graduation Day, but surely that didn't mean Xander would be scornfully rebuffed right away at helping him return to California?
Unfortunately, that'd definitely occur now, him being turned down flat by the Watchers seeing how they'd have absolutely no idea who he was. In fact, they'd reasonably be quite suspicious of someone out of the blue claiming to know about the Slayer and the rest of the supernatural stuff, part of which had just brought him here from six years into the future.
Xander winced at how things could really go wrong for him then, if the Watchers Council decided to grab a clueless American and thoroughly interrogate him about things that were going to happen for the next couple of years. He seriously doubted this interrogation would be confined to him being asked politely about the Hellmouth. More likely, the big club would soon come out and be held under a sweating Xander's nose while someone with a menacing Cockney accent said, "Are you ready to talk, laddie?"
Still with his head down on the table, Xander groaned again, this time wordlessly but with equal fervent hopelessness.
The extremely downcast state he was in, Xander Harris positively did not need to hear a very sneering voice then come from the open parlor doorway that declared, "I knew from the disgusting stench I smelled right this minute that there was a mudblood here!"
Lucius Malfoy went down the manor hallway at a dead run, wand out and ready towards the deafening commotion blasting out through the green parlor's door. He skidded to a stop in front of the open doorway with his lips already forming a Stupefy spell where his wand was aimed at…
Instead of casting right away, Lucius just let his wand arm fall to his side and he stared slack-jawed at the most ridiculous situation he'd ever seen in his life currently taking place inside the room.
There, Igor had his son and heir Draco in a ruthless headlock with what could be seen of the restrained boy's furious face turning bright red. This demonic retainer was forcefully grinding back-and-forth repeatedly with his knuckles against the top of Draco's head while yelling down at the Hogwarts student in turn making muffled, incoherent protests:
"Don't think you're getting off eathy with jutht my betht noogie! After thith, we move on to the purple nurple and then finithh your punithment with finding the nearetht toilet and introducing you to the wonderful world of thwirlieth!"
Lucius then announced his presence and not before time with a bellowed, "IGOR! What do you think you're doing?!"
Startled, Igor looked up from where he was and also relaxed his grip upon Draco, who quickly took the chance to squirm free of his captor. Scuttling across the room towards the side of the doorway where Lucius was standing, Draco with his normally-pristine hair now absolutely disheveled spun around, putting the wall against his back, and indignantly pointed at Igor to then whine at full volume.
"Father! Make him give me my wand back!"
"What?" a bewildered Lucius had to ask.
Smirking, Igor drew out a rather familiar wand from his robe pocket, sardonically declaring, "Oh, you mean thith wand?"
"Yes!" Draco shrieked.
Igor thoughtfully regarded the wand he was holding, and then shrugged dismissively, "Nah, it lookth jutht perfect for picking my nothe."
With that said, Igor then applied his words to his deeds by then sticking the tip of the wand into his right nostril, waggled it around in there a few times, and then extracted the end from there.
Lucius and Draco both regarded that act of utter desecration with matching horror, especially when Igor thereafter eyed the blob of something indescribable now sticking to the wand's tip and said cheerfully, "Yep, workth like a charm! I think I'll name it Thirley."
Almost gibbering with rage, Draco squawked, "Thirley?! You can't be serious!"
A very maniacal grin slowly spread over Igor's face, who then intoned towards Draco whose own facial features were presently turning an interesting shade of puce, "I am theriouth…and don't call me Thirley."
"Igor," Lucius gritted, barely hanging onto his temper, "Return his wand to my son at once!"
There was a pause in the room while Igor stared with growing incredulity at a seething Lucius.
Igor next switched his disbelieving gaze towards Draco who sent back his smuggest sneer in response.
Igor looked again at Lucius, who seemed about to have an attack of apoplexy any moment now.
Igor regarded Draco once more, who on the other hand seemed to sense his coming triumph over that mudblood might have a few little setbacks instead.
Indeed, Igor then threw up both hands towards the ceiling and shouted at the top of his lungs, "INCONCEIVABLE!"
Both of the wizards in the parlor were stunned by Igor's odd actions, though Draco was quick enough to notice how in his sudden gesture Igor had let go of the boy's wand which was flying across the room directly at Draco. With his Seeker reflexes, Draco promptly caught the wand, and grinned with victory.
That young man's elated grin promptly turned into a revolted grimace when he felt his fingers clutching the wand's tip to presently be in close contact with something unspeakably squishy. With a whimper of disgust, Draco took hold of the other end of the wand with his left hand and began frantically wiping his right palm against the front of his robe in order to clean off these dirtied fingers.
In the middle of this, Draco was distracted just as his father was, by Igor stamping to and fro across the room, ranting all the while, "Malfoyth are clever and cunning! Crafty and canny! Calculating and creative! Thneaky and threwd! Thly and thcheming!"
A bewildered father and son now flinched at the same time when Igor halted in his tantrum to aim an irate finger at where Draco was caught acting in a quite indecorous manner.
Draco's life at this point wasn't improved any by then hearing from Igor obviously believing every word of what then came out of his mouth: "That little turd couldn't theal candy from a baby! A concutthed thparrow would outfly him at Quidditch! If he ever meetth a girl interethed in him, inthide five minuteth thhe'd rather kithth a Dementor inthtead of…oh…"
The stunned Malfoys now watched Igor trail off in his outburst as if he'd just realize something with a matching expression of utmost understanding now upon the new family retainer's countenance. Approaching Lucius while also ignoring a fuming Draco, Igor stopped in front of the older wizard to then give Lucius a few sympathetic pats upon that man's left shoulder.
Igor then spoke directly into Lucius' befuddled face, "He'th adopted, ithn't he?"
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Pausing, Lucius tried to decide if his deep breathing was in truth calming him down. Perhaps a bit, but then his present wrathful mood was so towering that to take the metaphor even further, it was like using a broom for its original purpose to sweep off the scant topmost inch of snow from a colossal mountain peak, leaving behind an entire crag of sheerest ire.
Lucius glowered at the closed parlor door, where a few moments ago Draco had been firmly ejected, nearly frothing at the mouth during his ensuing temper tantrum. If Lucius had glanced over his shoulder then, he would've seen Igor spitefully sticking out his tongue at an exiting Draco but the older wizard had been much too busy getting rid of his son who according to the sounds behind the door had then stormed away in a serious huff down the hallway.
The Malfoy head winced to himself at imaging the upcoming tense conversation with Narcissa after Draco told her everything about today's antagonistic encounter with the newest family retainer. Right, one more reason to finally have it out with Igor.
Slowly turning around with menace extruding from every aristocratic pore, Lucius bestowed his most intimidating gaze upon the summoned demon there looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
"Igor," Lucius purred, "let's discuss, here and now, exactly how you can beyond any doubt serve me as I properly warrant—"
"Already ahead of you, Mathter!" Igor happily interrupted. He lifted up a pair of fingers in front of Lucius' surprised face, "Two wordth: Knockturn Alley!"
"What?"
Vigorously nodding at the confused response from the wizard who'd brought him here in the first place, Xander then did his best Alec Guinness impression, "You won't find a more wretched hive of thcum and villainy! Except for, I guethth, my hometown!"
Despite himself, Lucius lifted a mildly impressed eyebrow. He'd never heard before such a succinct and accurate description of Knockturn Alley. As for where Igor had just confirmed his origins…that led to Lucius asking curiously, "Just why do you want to visit there?"
"You thaid it yourthelf, Mathter," Igor reminded him. "Got to look around, thee if they have what I need to thuitably work for you, maybe find thome bargainth."
Lucius considered Igor's point, and had to admit the validity of it. He gave a reluctant nod, "Very well, you may go to Knockturn Alley. Don't be too long about it, though. I'm becoming rather impatient about all the delays, seeing how I summoned you to acquire more power and influence and all that's happened are the numerous disruptions here caused by you. So, when you return, I expect some actual benefits for my trouble."
"Yeth, Mathter," obediently responded Igor.
Stepping over to the parlor fireplace, Lucius reached for a small metal box resting upon the mantlepiece. Removing the lid, Lucius took out a pinch of green powder from within the box and flung this into the fireplace. Emerald green flames burst into existence inside the fireplace and continued to flicker there while Lucius turned to Igor.
"Speak the words 'Knockturn Alley' clearly and walk through the fireplace when you do; the Floo will take you there right away. When you're ready to come back, call on Hoxey and he'll bring you to where I'll be waiting. I'm warning you again, Igor, I shall be most displeased if you don't return with something worth all this inconvenience."
"Not to worry, Mathter," a jaunty Igor told Lucius as he stepped up to the fireplace. "I'm thure you'll be abtholutely thrilled at what I get. Knockturn Alley!"
Right after that, Igor unhesitantly strode through the flames and appeared in a dark, twisting alleyway strewn with trash upon the ancient cobblestones and possessing on either side of the lane numerous small shops and homes of stained brick squeezed together to run along Knockturn Alley now appearing eerily deserted.
That was all Xander noticed the first few seconds, since he then sagged against the nearest wall, glumly knowing he'd pushed his luck as far as it could go. His ongoing bluff that he was some sort of magical demon was pretty much over with now. The next time his newest servant came around, Lucius was clearly expecting Igor to show off real, honest mystical powers of which Xander damned well didn't have.
That left only one choice for him: running like hell. To be more specific, getting in touch with the Watchers Council in London. At least Hoxey had confirmed that Knockturn Alley, as part of the man shopping area of Diagon Alley (what was it with wizards and puns?), was located in that English capital. So, all he needed to do was to get out of this shabby slum and into mundane London to next show up at the supernatural institution supposedly supporting the Slayer in her duty of protecting humanity against vampires and other demons.
The previous objections he'd come up with against actually contacting the Watchers still applied. Mainly that he was six years in his past and they wouldn't know who he was, but something else a horrified Xander realized lately pushed him into asking them for help nonetheless. It might take Lucius a while — maybe most of the rest of the day, if he was lucky — to suspect his demonic retainer had just cleared out with all due speed, but once that happened, Xander was pessimistically certain this wizard would rapidly whip out his stupid family grimoire and summon Igor back into his presence once more.
On that ill-fated occasion, Lucius Malfoy would definitely not be a happy camper with resulting dire consequences for Xander Harris, proven muggle.
Nope, the only chance Xander had in finding some magical protection against that dreaded outcome was with the Watchers so like it or not, he had to approach them as soon as possible. First of all, that involved making tracks out of Knockturn Alley, causing Xander to push himself away from the brick wall and warily head down the cobblestoned path, making swift glances from side to side along the way.
Boy, this lousy place could give the worse parts of Sunnydale a good run for their money, Xander reflected. That put him even further on guard, allowing Xander to react quickly enough when some robed guy eventually lunged from out of the shadows in a gap between two Knockturn Alley buildings, crowding up directly behind him to then shove a wand against Xander's back and snarling into this teenager's ear a hasty, "Stupe—"
That was as far as the attacker with barely above squib levels of magical power got, when Xander standing stock-still in the alley without turning around made a sudden gesture with his left arm which oddly resembled a baseball umpire's flamboyant "Out!" gesture. Though, Xander's jerking back his hand with an extended thumb rammed that fingertip right into the mugger's eye, making that wizard scream in pain and reel backwards.
Spinning upon his heels, Xander now facing his opponent snatched the wand out of their right hand with his own left hand and while flinging this wooden stick away out of the fight, punched with his right fist the other guy very hard in the throat.
Choking and gagging, the mugger had only a few more seconds to regret attacking Xander, since the Hellmouth native next grabbed the front of the wizard's robe with both hands and shoved him with all his strength into the closest building wall. Smashing the back of his skull with near-fatal force into the bricks promptly sent the mugger into dreamland, not that Xander more than willing to unload all his recent frustrations and resentments upon a deserving somebody was going to let the guy off that easy.
In the middle of thoroughly putting the boot into the crumpled form lying upon the cobblestones, Xander heard from one side a cackling, "Hee, hee, hee! Does me heart good to see a fine young man like you enjoy himself so!"
Startled, Xander brought down his right foot rather than inflict one more kick against an unconscious foe. Peering from the gap of a half-open door of the nearest ramshackle Knockturn Alley house, an obscenely entertained face for which the Evil Queen from Disney's classical animated film Snow White would've considered much too over the top for her Old Hag persona beamed at Xander. It was all there: the numerous warts, a nose crooked in not just one but several directions, and the remaining teeth in a slobbering mouth presenting to Xander's revolted gaze assorted shades of rotting yellow.
Mentally dubbing that horrible lady 'Haggest', Xander shrugged at her, "Glad you're having a ball. Show's over now, though. Which way do I take to get out of here?"
"Eh, eh, don't be so impatient to leave," Haggest crooned from under her head-shawl, rheumy eyes glittering with malice while she considered the insensible wizard at Xander's feet. She looked up at the victor, lewdly inquiring, "What d'yer want for him, love?"
Xander blinked, unsure how to react to that. From the looks of her, Haggest was more likely to cram someone into an oven and set the heat to 'high' instead of offering the latest guest a nice cup of tea and several chocolate digestive biscuits on a platter. On the other hand, Xander wasn't particularly sympathetic to anybody who'd just tried to ambush him for undoubtedly nefarious reasons.
Not to mention the fact that he was dead broke…
"How much?"
"Ohhhh," Haggest hummed, estimating the lowest price she could get away with. Cocking her head, the witch carefully watched Xander while she suggested, "Five sickles."
Nodding thoughtfully after hearing this amount, Xander suddenly lashed out with a forceful kick against the defeated wizard's side. Both of them actually heard a rib go and even through his coma, the mugger whined with agony.
"What the hades did yer do that for?!" a scandalized Haggest cried.
Xander just smirked back at the ghastly woman. He told her, "You offer that little, I'm gonna reduce the merchandise to match."
Haggest's eyes widened in mutual shock and admiration. Ach, that was such a lovely bit of negotiation! This laddie definitely wasn't one to be underestimated, so…no matter how unwelcome it was for her, best to agree to an admittedly fair price.
"Twenty galleons, and not a knut more!"
Xander eyed Haggest looking quite mulish. Yeah, that sounded like her sticking point. He wasn't quite sure how much that was exactly in dollars or pounds or whatever, but hey, cash was cash.
"Deal. Fork it over."
Haggest cackled again, this time in triumphant glee, making Xander think he'd still gotten gypped. She pushed the door fully open, tottering out on unsteady feet assisted by the cane in her left hand which the witch used while tapping along towards a waiting Xander. —
He cautiously watched her coming nearer, hunched over in her black robe while fumbling in one pocket. Tensing a fraction, Xander relaxed at seeing how Haggest pulled out from there a tatty coin purse which appeared to be stuffed full.
Just a few steps before Xander, Haggest froze in her tracks, the tip of her cane resting upon a cobblestone. The witch's eyes flashed silver, and she intoned in sepulchral tones:
"Slayer's champion
Vampire's bane
Hellmouth's child
Cretins' reign
Out of his time
Out of his luck
Out of his home
Out of his unstuck
Send him away
Send him back
Send him now
Send— JUST GET HIM BLOODY WELL GONE!"
That last was from Haggest screeching in obvious terror as her eyes reverted to normal and she dropped the coin purse to cower away from an astonished Xander.
Haggest then wildly waved her cane at him, spluttering, "I don't know how you're here, but bugger off! We got enough bother around this sodding place that nobody needs more of, so why don't yer get cracking on yer speediest bunk right now?"
Feeling himself fate's butt-monkey more than ever, Xander snapped back at Haggest with all the exasperation he possessed, "Believe me, I'd love to except I have absolutely no idea how to travel home!"
That took Haggest quite by surprise, judging how she gaped at him in response over hearing this angry reply. Eventually, she sighed and extended her cane to shove the coin purse onto the alley cobblestones towards Xander.
"You take that, laddie. A deal's a deal, aye? Oh, and two more things, so listen carefully."
For some reason, Haggest was giving Xander a very significant look, causing him to pay attention as she directed. The witch then said slowly and carefully, "First of all: the Veil. Second, take the next right out of Knockturn, two blocks down, and another right where you'll see part of the answer."
"What does any of that mean?" a baffled Xander wanted to know.
However, Haggest stubbornly shook her head and stumped in a circumspect half-circle around Xander to where the out-cold wizard had been lying there throughout their recent conversation. With little-old-lady strength, Haggest grabbed hold of the mugger's collar and began dragging him effortlessly towards her front door.
It was obvious she wouldn't answer any more questions. Indeed, Xander was kind of glad Haggest wasn't going to explain just why she'd bought the guy in the first place. Soon enough, they both disappeared into the witch's house, with the door firmly slamming shut behind them both.
Rolling his eyes in irritation, Xander leaned down to pick up the coin purse. Opening it, he found twenty gold coins which were clearly galleons, though Xander had no idea how much they might be worth in London. Still, gold was gold, so he was at least ahead on that deal.
What about the rest of it, the Veil and the directions? All that recitation from Haggest, it sounded like she'd been having some kind of vision or other prediction. Real Boca del Infierno stuff, actually.
A thrill of hope shot through Xander's chest. For the first time in a long while, it looked like he had a chance to get out of this weird wizarding world and back to his hometown. Okay, then, grab it with both hands and if anybody tries to stop you, give 'em a hard knee in the balls!
Feeling much better now, Xander strode down Knockturn Alley to where there was a side street. He slowed and tried to remember what he'd just been told. Was it the first left or—?
Several buildings up from behind Xander, a woman's shrill voice bellowed at him, "TAKE A BLOODY RIGHT, YER GORMLESS WANKER!"
Resuming his walk into the proper direction, Xander muttered to himself, "Geez, a guy could feel really insulted here, what with how everyone wants me gone as fast as possible."
Xander stood there with his fists upon his robe-covered hips, glowering at some witch's practical joke.
"All this way just for nothing?" he grumbled, continuing to survey the vacant lot across the Diagon Alley lane which he'd been directed to several minutes ago by his latest British wizarding world encounter.
The Sunnydale native glanced to his right further up the alley at the other shops and residences bustling with customers. Looked like he might as well go there and check it out, see if he could find something to either get him back home or convince his 'Mathter' Lucius he was in fact a honest-to-Hellmouth demon—
Casually swinging his gaze back, Xander did an abrupt double-take at the building now occupying the vacant lot…which hadn't been there a mere second before!
He stared open-mouthed at the plain brick two-story structure which seemed to be some kind of shop but with the front windows curtained shut. Xander rubbed his jaw thoughtfully and then mused out loud to himself.
"A…magic shop appearing out of thin air, right in the place where I was told to go by somebody who knew where I came from…and really, really wanted me out of her hair."
Grinning, Xander headed towards a certain supernatural location which was copied from at least a million fantasy stories.
Inside the building, George Weasley lying curled up on the floor groaned in his extreme discomfort of head swimming and stomach heaving, "Maybe we should've left that Time Turner alone!"
"You think?" Fred Weasley suffering with his own identical headache and nausea sardonically contributed from where he was stretched out on the floor next to his twin brother.
Shakily arising to their feet while each used the other for support, Fred and George now standing side-by-side warily examined the small but immensely powerful magical object presently scattered into numerous pieces across the shop table of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. That Time Turner they'd amazingly found today in one of the dusty basement boxes left over from one of the shop's previous owners had been intact and just begging to reveal all its secrets to the excited redhead brothers, until George made a teeny little mistake in disassembling it.
Right after that unmeant error, a wave of blinding mystical energies had emerged from the ruptured Time Turner and passed through the bodies of Weasley twins, leaving them physically unharmed but still feeling like they'd undergone the most unsettling Floo trip of their lives.
Trying to see the bright side of things, Fred glanced around at the untouched contents of their joke shop and announced, "Looks like nothing bad happened to our stock."
George followed Fred's gaze, and he was right. The whole interior of the store which they'd finished earlier today in filling the shelves with their prank products before finding the Time Turner appeared as if not a single item was out of place despite what'd just strangely happened. That was a good thing, considering they opened for business next week after altering the shop's currently ordinary exterior to match the gleeful insanity of the Weasley's prank merchandise.
Knock, knock.
The twins flinched at that pair of firm raps from the closed front door. Staring at each other in worried surmise, George reacted faster in grabbing hold of one of their latest products from the nearest shelf. Ripping off the protective wrapping of the Express Disguise joke item, George then slapped the coin-like disc that'd been in there onto Fred's forehead.
In an instant, Fred's red hair turned purple, he sported a set of wire-rim glasses with dangling boingy eyeballs, a foot-wide thick mustache curling up at the corners protruded from his upper lip, and this young man now possessed a magnificent set of buck teeth any beaver would've gladly coveted.
Knock, knock.
Over that repeated sound of somebody trying to attract the attention of the shop's presumed occupants, George hissed at his brother, "Answer it! If they're there to complain about what happened, just tell them your name's Humbert Upooblible and we don't know what they're talking about!"
Nodding with agreement, Fred in his new disguise headed to the front door. Stopping in front of it to take a deep breath in preparation for lying his arse off, Fred opened the door to find waiting out there a young wizard about Forge and Gred's age.
"Yes?" said Fred politely enough, only to be abruptly distracted by looking over their latest visitor's shoulder across Diagon Alley. What the…did those other shops that had been there just today completely change to different ones somehow without either of the Weasleys even noticing?
Thwack!
Fred couldn't help uttering a short yelp due to the other wizard reaching out to tug onto one of the glasses' floppy eyeballs, sending it snapping back at Fred's face to hit and bounce off the glasses.
He glared at this rude wizard's victorious smirk, especially when that guy declared, "Do you mind? I need to talk to you— Both of you."
After their visitor had finished speaking with his quick correction, Fred glanced over his own shoulder at where George had stepped into view from behind a shelf to suspiciously consider this stranger. He eventually sent a reluctant shrug of acceptance towards Fred, who in turn just as unenthusiastically backed up for their visitor to enter the shop and close the door behind himself.
The Weasleys watched how this young man eyed all the joke items in their brightly-colored wraps and packages with bold lettering taking up nearly every inch of the shop's interior. A slow, delighted grin developed on his face, just before he declared a thrilled, "Damn, but you got some very cool stuff for sale!"
George and Fred shared a moment of quiet pride at seeing all their hard work of developing magical pranks appreciated so much, but this satisfaction was swiftly alleviated by hearing what the stranger next said.
"It's not why I'm here though, sorry."
Hesitating, the stranger continued in his rather odd accent to the Weasley's ears, "Um, my name's Xander. Long story short…I got yanked out of my road trip by some asshole wizard who thinks that makes me his total slave. I've been stringing him along so far, but that can't last much longer. All I want is to get home and away from Lucius Malfoy— Oh, guess you know him," observed Xander seeing how those twin redheads who looked like they could be Willow's older brothers suddenly develop on their matching faces identical sour grimaces.
George told Xander, "Yes, our family's been feuding with the Malfoys for centuries. We don't like them, and the feeling's mutual. I still don't see what that has to do with you showing up here today."
"Well," Xander cautiously ventured, "Not more than a half-hour ago at Knockturn Alley, I met up with the most witchy witch ever who went through some kind of prophesy shtick after laying eyes on me. She not only correctly pinpointed my hometown, it came along with a definitely intense suggestion I head back there as fast as possible. She added two more things: one, that I should head over to some vacant lot close by, where your place appeared out of thin air right after I got there."
Fred and George stared at each other after hearing the last. Their appalled gazes then slowly shifted to the shop table where the disassembled Time Turner innocently rested.
Xander waited a few more moments before deciding those two distracted brothers wouldn't get out of their abrupt deep funk without some more verbal prodding.
"Like I was saying, the witch I was talking about added another possible clue regarding me getting back home, but I don't have any idea what she was talking about. You might, though, so here goes. She said for whatever it's worth two words: 'The Veil.'"
The Weasleys simultaneously blinked. Eyeing each other, their faces next performed multiple faint lip-twitches and muscle tics in silent twin-speak impenetrable to anyone else, even their parents.
Fred: Not lying. Yes?
George: Yes. You remember it?
Fred: Of course. Do we tell him?
George: Think we better. Feels like a prophesy event going on here. Do you really want to get us mixed up even further in it?
Fred: No!
George: Smart boy. Hopefully, we won't get any more involved and can deal with our own problems when he leaves. You start off first.
Looking back and forth at the twins (who were evidently deep in conversation with each other despite not saying a word), Xander waited for them to finish which soon happened.
One of the twins on the right then told their visitor, "We overheard our father tell our oldest brother Bill about the Veil when we were kids. Nobody really knows what it is, even though it's been in one of the Ministry's basements for a very long time. Dad visited it once and called it the creepiest thing he'd ever seen. It looks like a stone archway big enough for people to go inside. The Veil itself is a sort of black curtain over the front that regularly moves as if someone behind is touching it. Scariest of all, anybody who tries to pass through the Veil never comes back. The Unspeakables who've studied it think it's a way for the souls of the dead to go on to the next life, but again, nobody knows for sure."
Hearing all that, Xander said as if to himself, "A portal…"
Paying no attention to the twins now intently watching him, Xander concentrated on his thoughts. For the first time since arriving in this weirdo wizarding society, here was what sounded like a real chance to find a way back home. Yeah, it didn't sound like it was safe at all or even guaranteed, but for the moment, he was willing to seize any possible opportunity if there was the slightest likelihood of it working.
Xander glanced over at the brothers standing there next to each other, asking them, "Can anyone get to see the Veil?"
Both of them looked a bit uncomfortable, as if they'd guessed what he was going to try. The one on the left nonetheless answered, "The only people I think have permission to be there any time are the Unspeakables and Ministry officials on business. I seriously doubt you could pass yourself off as either of them."
"Hold it," the right twin mused, "what you said before about Malfoy. Merlin knows, he sticks his snobby nose in everywhere else at the Ministry, from what Dad complains. Maybe he could arrange it?"
Xander beamed at whoever'd just said that. Oh, yeah, at this point a fake demon from Sunnydale was supremely convinced he could con 'Mathter' into just about anything he set his mind to. It'd take careful planning and mental rehearsing, but as soon as he returned to Malfoy Manor, the operation would be a go—
Pausing in mid-thought when a sudden inspiration struck him, Xander looked around the joke shop. One of his latest worries was that eventually he'd be forced to show off some sort of spell or charm to prove he was indeed a supernatural fiend from hell which wouldn't be easy considering him and actual magic were positively unmixy. Now, though, he was in a real store offering numerous prank items for wizards and witches to happily inflict upon each other for cash on hand…
Ooops. Xander's inspiration promptly dissolved under a stern objection from his mature side. Mainly, there was the real prospect that Lucius would recognize any Weasley prank item or a product of a similar nature from another Diagon Alley joke shop selling the same kinds of humorous merchandise. The only way it'd work was for Xander to use a presumedly magical object around Lucius which was completely new and different for that older wizard to even recognize.
He looked at the twin brothers who'd been standing quietly there all the while. Unknown to Xander, Fred and George had been watching with professional interest how their visitor had numerous calculating expressions cross over his face during developing some internal devious scheme of his own.
Now, it appeared as if he'd arrived at a decision, though when they heard him speak, it was a bit surprising to the Weasley brothers as to what exactly they'd been asked.
Waving a hand around the joke shop's crowded interior, Xander wanted to know, "Do you guys just buy this stuff to sell, or did you make it yourself?"
Drawing themselves up in matching hauteur, George and Fred answered in chorus, "Sir, every single Weasleys Wizard Wheezes was personally hand made by us!"
"Good," Xander nodded in satisfaction. "If I tell you about a…muggle…invention that only existed in the comics, can you provide it for me as quickly as you can?"
With eyebrows raised at equal distance, George beat out Fred by cautioning what seemed to be their first customer ever, "It depends on exactly what you're talking about. I don't think we can build you an 'arryplan' or something else in such a hurry."
Past a grin growing wider by the second, Xander cheerfully shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that. It's no bigger than a wand but I want two of them. To be more specific, this is what they should do…"
As Xander went on describing his custom-made items, the twins began to show off their own intrigued smiles. Eventually, when he finished, Xander heard from the brother on the left a contemplative, "It sounds doable, but there's the minor point of our fee—"
Clunk.
That sound was the result of Xander casually taking out from a robe pocket and dropping onto the nearest table the coin purse filled with galleons he'd received from the Knockturn Alley witch.
The closest twin picked up the purse, opened it, and had his eyes bug out slightly at instantly counting twenty galleons inside there. That was more than three times what Ollivander charged for his best wands!
"Deal!" instantly agreed that Weasley brother, handing over the purse to his twin whose own eyes gleamed with avarice at seeing how much was in there for their maximum magical ingenuity.
Indeed, George then ordered Fred, "To the workplace!" They rushed off together to the rear of the shop, followed after by a very amused Xander.
An hour or so later, Xander flexed his fingers into nearly the proper position. Though, not fully into what would trigger the items he was currently wearing on both arms. This was a good thing, since Fred and George standing before the front door of their shop subtly tensed to get out of the way lest Xander (they'd all introduced themselves by now) made another preemptive process such as the one that was going to make the twins spend quite a while restoring their obstructed workshop to functionality again.
"Okay, guys, goodbye," Xander offered a cheerful farewell. "Wish me luck."
"Good luck, Xander," George and Fred chorused. Fred opened the front door and saw Xander out, giving another dubious stare at the completely different buildings on the opposite side of the alley before shutting the door behind a muggle out to find his way home.
Turning to where George was patting the bulge of the coin purse securely deposited into a robe pocket, Fred sighed, "Yes, we're still in the past or the future, I don't know which. Do you have any reasonable idea yet how to return to our proper time?"
"Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something," George jovially responded. "Why don't you concentrate instead for now how fast we're going to pay Harry back for the thousand galleons he gave us to set up our shop after winning the Triwizard Tournament?"
Instead of responding to George, Fred just gave his brother a dirty look. That glower quickly changed to a look of genuine horror sent over George's shoulder to somewhere behind this Weasley.
Spinning on a heel to see what'd alarmed his twin so much, George also saw then how the scattered pieces of the Time Turner were somehow glowing with increasing illumination which in the next moment grew to blinding levels.
Meeting Fred's dismayed stare, George shouted at his brother before diving to the floor, "DUCK!"
Out in the lane, Xander heard from behind an extremely odd noise, akin to a loud, inhaled Huff! sound. Stopping short in his tracks, he turned around to see again the vacant lot he'd been directed to by the Knockturn Alley witch now completely unoccupied by Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.
Xander sent a farewell wave at where he'd been helped by a really great bunch of guys, and then called out, "Hoxey!"
With his normal Pop! announcement, this Malfoy house-elf appeared in front of Xander. Bowing, Hoxey asked, "What does Chaos-Sower want from Hoxey?"
"Take us back to Malfoy Manor and Master Malfoy, please."
With his long ears bobbing away, Hoxey nodded obediently. He hesitated a fraction before actually carrying out his orders to instead mention, "Ah…Master Lucius is now with Mistress Narcissa and Master Draco in the green parlor. Mistress specifically told Hoxey to bring you to them just before you called Hoxey."
Clearing his suddenly dry throat, Xander husked, "No problem, that's what I expected. Uh…now that I think of it, why don't you put me in the same room with the Malfoys, only off to one side like I prefer? You don't have to arrive with me, either. Just drop me off and go polish the silver or something."
"Hoxey likes polishing the silver!" the house-elf beamed. "Hoxey will do as Chaos-Sower says."
Pop!
Holding her wand ready, Narcissa Malfoy waited expectantly for the culprit guilty of tormenting her darling child to appear in front of the three people standing in the parlor. A maliciously-smiling Draco had his own wand in hand, though he'd promised his mother he'd wait until she was done before taking his turn with that mudblood Igor.
As for Lucius, he was idly tapping his snake-head cane on the parlor floor, quite resigned to his demonic retainer undergoing Narcissa' lengthy retribution for daring to lay a finger upon Draco.
All of them were taken by complete surprise at this awaited minion when he manifested himself at the right-hand side wall instead of before them all. With a savage snarl upon her beautiful face, Narcissa quickly swung her wand around to target Igor bafflingly making some sort of finger gestures with both hands pointed at the Malfoys.
These gestures involved Igor keeping his little and first fingers extended, but with the middle fingers curled in to touch the palms with his thumbs holding the middle fingers in place. Also accompanying Igor's gestures were a pair of exceedingly bizarre sound effects such as:
Thwip! Thwip!
Before Lucius' unbelieving eyes, he saw Igor's wandless spell produce two small balls of white substance which shot with impressive speed towards his wife and son. On their way, these balls expanded into large white nets which struck, gathered up off their feet, and carried Narcissa and Draco along through the air to stick these two magicals against the wall.
With immense satisfaction at seeing the complete success in real action Spider-Man's web-shooters he had the Weasley twins make for him, Xander brought down his long-sleeved arms concealing these mechanisms strapped around his wrists and turned to confront Lucius' wand presently pointed right between Xander's eyes.
In his most courteous tone, Lucius inquired, "Was that really necessary, Igor?"
"Motht definitely, Mathter!" Igor happily told a wizard clearly about to erupt in serious violence any second now. "I have wonderful newth! My Mathter of Mathterth, he thpoke to me about you, how he admireth your dedication to ruling the wizarding world! For a thlight favor, he will provide you with power beyond your wildetht dreamt to accomplithh that!"
Lowering his wand, a suspicious Lucius seized upon the most important words of that unexpected declaration. "A thlight— slight! favor? What exactly are we talking here?"
"Oh, thomething thmall, minor, unimportant, trivial, inthignificant, really. Jutht what my Mathter of Mathterth named it to match up with the thpecific favor itthelf," Igor sunnily smirked at Lucius, keeping this evil smile upon his face when he slowly but meaningfully turned to stare at where Draco Malfoy was still stuck to the wall by magical netting.
This same netting over his mouth and body except from below his nose to the top of his blonde skull prevented Draco from doing anything but perform the most minor fidgeting and muffled protests when they all heard Igor say with immense gratification in his tone:
"It'th called the Golden Thacrifice."
A very ecstatic minion bustled around the parlor, making estimating gestures with his hands all while chattering, "—and if we move the table a bit back, the altar will fit there jutht fine, but you might want to get new wallpaper afterwardth—"
"Igor."
"—I know kniveth are traditional and there'th nothing wrong with them, but I heard about thomething new that I'm abtholutely keen to try out, tho thith time let'th go with a chainthaw—"
"Igor."
"—of courthe, even if thith wath ten yearth later on, you thtill wouldn't have to worry about hith virginity because mathturbation doethn't count—"
"IGOR!" Lucius Malfoy roared, finally interrupting his demonic retainer's unending gruesome discourse when it ventured into definitely uncomfortable territory.
Halting in his tracks, Igor looked in surprise at Mathter bellowing his name, especially since this was accompanied by an inflexible, "We are not sacrificing my son."
"No!?" whimpered Igor with horrified dismay who then scuttled over to where Lucius was glaring at him.
Stopping in a submissive, hunched-over posture in front of this wizard, Igor clasped his hands together and peered upwards at his master balefully examining him in turn. Widening his eyes to their maximum intent, Igor even managed to fill these with sorrowful tears all while combining his piteous consternation with a quivering lower lip.
It was an outstanding performance which normally would've touched even the most hardened heart, but Lucius' circulatory organ was sheer aristocratic granite.
Instead, Lucius icily informed Igor, "Why would you even think I'd agree to that? There's nothing on earth which would persuade me to go that far!"
"Uh-huh!" Igor promptly shook his head while he responded in a categorically disagreeing voice, along with bringing up a hand to perform a swift thumbs-down gesture towards Lucius. "Nothing on earth, you thay? How about thomething that ithn't part of thith earth?"
"What?" frowned Lucius, trying to decipher Igor's meaning. The lisp didn't help, either.
Indeed, Igor next behaved even more incomprehensibly, when he began scampering around the parlor. His first stop was at the room's main table, where Igor bent over to check if anyone had managed to sneak in and hide under there without anyone else in the parlor noticing, however unlikely this was. Satisfied at seeing nothing but chair and table legs plus the floor carpeting, Igor next went over to the couch, where he picked up the cushions and again ensured there was nothing there but—
"Thcore!" Igor happily said, snatching up a loose knut lying on the couch liner to slip this in a pocket before putting the cushions back onto the couch.
Through all this, an increasingly bewildered Lucius just watched, unsure of exactly what Igor was up to. After doing one last search behind the couch for unseen eavesdroppers, Igor dashed over again to where Lucius was standing.
Skidding to a halt a bit too close for Lucius' liking, Igor then bounced up on tip-toes to whisper hoarsely right into the wizard's left ear, "The Veil!"
Reeling back with an aching eardrum, Lucius tried to ease his unexpected distress by rubbing at his ear. In the middle of this, he decided enough was enough, and snapped at Igor obviously expecting praise for his latest perplexing acts.
"Igor, what in Merlin's name are you talking about?"
Blinking in mild puzzlement, Igor prompted, "The Veil, Mathter? Like, thay, the uncanny doorway in the Minithry bathement? Nobody knowth what it really ith? What my Mathter of Mathterth ordered me to tell you about?"
A look of understanding flashed over Lucius' face when he finally remembered some interesting information he'd acquired during his years-long suborning of the Ministry of Magic as per his Lord's orders. Among these tidbits had been the bizarre supernatural construct dubbed by the Unspeakables studying it as 'the Veil'. Lucius obediently passed along that information to Voldemort and nothing more had ever been mentioned about the matter, much less Lucius being commanded to make plans for eventually seizing control of this very strange item in the Ministry's basement.
That alone was…intriguing. Given how his glorious leader's own self-bestowed title meant 'escape from death', it only made sense the Dark Lord would avoid anything to do with a possible passage to the next world via a manifestation between the land of the living and the afterlife. And now, Igor was telling him his Math— Master could grant Lucius more than sufficient magical power to take over their society, using this same Veil?
Of course, there was the matter of a certain price, but surely that was open to negotiation. First, find out the exact details.
Fixing his demonic retainer with the sternest gaze he could manage, Lucius asked, "Igor, did your Master explicitly require that Draco's life be forfeited?"
Igor hesitated a little too long before answering and also refused to meet Lucius' eye to instead find something utterly fascinating past the wizard before answering in a definite reluctant tone, "Well, not really. But when Mathter of Matherth uthed the wordth 'Golden Thacrifice', it sounded obviouth what he wath talking about!"
Inwardly breathing a genuine sigh of relief, Lucius didn't let his thankfulness show upon the extremely disdainful expression he now sent towards an abashed Igor, "That's why you should never presume you know more than your betters!"
Hunching his shoulders in apology, Igor responded with his best verbal groveling, "Yeth, Mathter! Thorry, Mathter!"
"Don't forget that again, you idiot!" Lucius snapped at Igor, just before getting himself under control. He seemingly ignored his remorseful retainer to then mention as if to himself, "Could it be that simple, what your Master had in mind was a simple transaction of wealth for power?"
"What do you mean, Mathter?" a humble Igor inquired.
Instead answering Igor directly, Lucius raised his voice in command. "Hoxey!"
The usual Pop! noise came with that house-elf's instant magical teleport into the parlor along with a deferential, "What does Master Malfoy want from Hoxey?"
"Go to the safe room and bring back here…um…one of the larger bags."
"Yes, Master!" Pop! Pop!
Almost without a break in the two popping sounds, Hoxey returned with a large cylindrical canvas bag carried vertically in his arms. The full bag straining at its seams was itself nearly Hoxey's own size, with the house-elf just able to peer over the bag's top with its drawstring running through loops holding it tightly closed.
"Put it down and go back to your other duties, Hoxey," Lucius directed.
Nodding in obedience, Hoxey did exactly that with the bag and vanished with another Pop!
Lucius waved a hand towards the packed bag resting upon its bottom on the parlor floor, asking Igor doubtfully eyeing the bag, "Will that do?"
Igor shot Lucius a very baffled look. "Do for what, Mathter? If you mean ath a prethent for Mathter of Mathterth, I don't think he really needth a thack—"
A supremely exasperated Lucius snarled, "I'm talking about a thousand of Gringott's best gold Galleons in that bag! Now just give me a straight answer: Yes or no on the golden sacrifice?!"
"Oh, you mean gold cointh!" Igor happily rubbed his hands together. "That will be a very nice addition to Mathter of Mathterth' money bin! Why, every morning, he liketh to dive around in hith money like a purpoithe and burrow through it like a gopher to finithh off by tothing it up and letting it hit him on the head!"
A very taken-aback Lucius had to get rid of an absurd mental image of some horrific demon doing exactly that in the netherworld.
Clearing his throat, he directed, "Excellent, Igor! Now, there's no time like the present. One of the Unspeakables who owes me a good many discreet favors should be coming on his shift at the Ministry. Bring the bag with you; we're going to see if he can get us into where the Veil is. Are you quite sure your Master will contact us there?"
"Oh, abtholutely," Igor reassured Lucius, going over to the bag and bending over to put his arms around that canvas container. Using all of his strength to bring up what he thought would be an extremely heavy object, Igor nearly toppled backwards at the uplifted bag in his grip instead weighting almost nothing.
"Whoa!" yelped Igor, barely regaining his balance and gawking at the bag he was now embracing. He could feel through the held canvas covering the numerous coins packed inside, but they weren't any burden at all.
Sending a startled Igor a thin smile, Lucius told him, "Naturally, there's a featherlight charm on the bag. Come along, Igor, and keep your mouth shut when we're at the Ministry."
After finishing his orders, Lucius then turned to where Narcissa and Draco were still stuck to the wall by Igor's magical netting. Pausing while obviously reminding himself of something, the wizard gestured at his family. "How much longer are they going to be up there?"
Coming up with his near-weightless bag to halt next to Lucius, Igor answered, "Oh, maybe ten more minuteth, Mathter. After that, it ditholveth and they'll be free."
At this reply, Narcissa's eyes now closed to near-slits of supreme fury while she glared at the person responsible for her humiliating discomfort. Unable to do anything but mumble through the web gag, Lucius' wife still manage to promise via these loud, vindictive growls both Igor and her husband would soon totally pay for everything done to Narcissa and Draco also stuck on the wall at his mother's side.
Lucius didn't turn a hair at Narcissa's evident wrath. Rather, he beamed at his wife and promised her, "Don't worry, dear. When I return, it'll be in utter triumph and as the conqueror of our people! Best of all, you'll rule at my side!"
That didn't appear to mollify Narcissa the slightest, who only increased the volume of her snarling. Lucius simply shrugged and left with his usual arrogant stride through the parlor door.
Shifting the bag of gold to under one arm, Igor used this other free limb to thoroughly thumb his nose at Draco, whose face turned into scarlet blotches as a result.
Pleased at the chance to offer that little shit one last insult, Xander Harris followed after the older Malfoy. Knowing this might be his only chance to get back to Sunnydale, Xander vowed to himself that no matter what, he'd do anything to escape this weirdo wizarding world.
The longer he trudged after Lucius Malfoy during their grand tour of the Ministry of Magic, the more a sardonic Xander was reminded of just how much this was like Sunnydale High. They were all encountered there in the building's enormous atrium he and his Mathter were passing through at present: the cool kids, jocks, loners, teachers-pets, nerds, emos, geeks, stoners, and lastly those who just faded into the background. Every one of the adults crowded together in the big room were much older and dressed in wizarding and witchy robes, of course, but that meant nothing to Xander's cynical eye seeing how identically they fitted in their familiar cliques.
Xander himself was naturally dismissed at first glance and then further ignored by those other magicals witnessing him serving as a lowly underling to Lord Malfoy, carrying a large sack a few steps behind the older aristocratic wizard graciously acknowledging the few people of their jam-packed gathering he deigned to recognize. In retaliation (and to have a few private laughs of his own), Xander responded by unabashedly leering at every single female of all ages and appearances within range amid the swarming throng.
He even managed to keep this lecherous smirk on his face when one really ugly woman a dead ringer for a human-sized toad dressed up in solid pink robes came simpering towards Lucius, now blocking his way.
In a genuinely syrupy voice, this ghastly female gushed at the wizard who'd been forced to halt in the middle of his arrogant stride, "Dear Lord Malfoy! It's truly an honor seeing you here today! If you wish to see Minister Fudge to discuss important business, just say the word and I'll rearrange his schedule to fit you in as soon as possible!"
*Wow,* Xander mentally observed, *Sucking up much, toad-lady?*
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Madam Umbridge," an urbane Lucius responded, making this addressed woman beam in such an appalling way as to shatter every mirror in the entire city of London. "Give the Minister my best and we'll soon have a nice chat later on. For now, though, I'm here concerning other matters, so there's no need to take you away from your indispensable tasks of the most zealous Senior Undersecretary the Ministry has ever known."
Hearing this unaccustomed praise made Dolores Umbridge suddenly swell up in sheer delight, which was just as quickly punctured by an unexpected contribution by some unknown young man stepping out from behind Lord Malfoy.
This stranger now possessing a definitely maniac grin on his face then declared to both Dolores and the whole wizarding crowd within hearing distance: "Say, what he just said, that covers a lot of ground. Hey, iyou/i cover a lot of ground yourself. You better beat it — I hear they're going to tear you down and put up an office building where you're standing. You can leave in a taxi. If you can't get a taxi, you can leave in a huff. If that's too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff. You know, you haven't stopped talking since I came here? You must have been vaccinated with a phonograph needle!"
Just as she'd done throughout that entire insulting monologue, Dolores gaped at Xander when he finished speaking, looking quite pleased with himself. This Sunnydale native hadn't even dreamed he knew by heart Groucho Marx's hilarious rant as Rufus T. Firefly from Duck Soup, but when these exact words abruptly blazed inside his head, Xander was gleefully prepared to go along with proclaiming them aloud to a hushed crowd.
"What— What—," stuttered Dolores, unable to react otherwise to being disrespected right on the spot in front of everybody. She still recovered soon enough to haughtily draw herself up and glare with her most malicious expression towards this insolent boy who'd definitely pay for it all, along with sneering at him, "Well, I never!"
Oh, there was no way he was going to pass that one up.
Xander promptly riposted, "Well, I never forget a face, but in your case, I'll be glad to make an exception!"
Dolores' same visage immediately blushed a bright scarlet of mingled fury and humiliation brought on by the numerous snickers made by the onlookers at hearing that supreme affront. Getting a sudden attack of common sense that continuing this altercation would only result in even more entertaining abuse coming her way, Dolores spun around and stalked off, angrily pushing her way past the other wizards and witches in the Ministry atrium.
Madam Umbridge retreated even faster out of sight at hearing from behind both a shouted parting shot and the loud laughter this produced from the audience, "REMEMBER, PEOPLE, YOU'RE FIGHTING FOR THIS WOMAN'S HONOR, WHICH IS PROBABLY MORE THAN SHE EVER DID!"
Seeing his defeated enemy leave their battlefield so vanquished, Xander performed a satisfied nod of absolute victory, interrupted by Lucius' exasperated hiss, "Igor, behave!"
"That's an extremely interesting name, Lord Malfoy."
Both Xander and Lucius turned their startled attention to this newcomer with their booming voice who'd just said that to the atrium, along with the rest of the amused crowd quieting down and scenting the further possibility of the funny story they'd soon tell all their friends and families becoming even more sidesplitting.
Everyone there saw a square-jawed, solid witch in a formal black robe with a monocle in her right eye sending a very unnerving gaze through this glass circle towards the pair of suspicious males standing before herself.
Xander instantly understood that lady over there was trouble right here in River City, as indicated by his palms turning damp with nervous sweat from out of nowhere.
His unease only increased at hearing Lucius warily ask, "Whatever do you mean about Igor, Madam Bones?"
"Igor," Madam Bones said thoughtfully, except instead of repeating Lucius' pronunciation of 'I-gor', she used the different version of 'Ee-gor'.
This time, Xander's armpits joined in with a gusher of alarmed perspiration. Despite it, he was unable to resist joining in the conversation, "No, it's pronounced 'I-gor'."
Reaching up to twist her monocle in the same slow, intimidating manner as a double-barreled shotgun loaded and cocked, Madam Bones directed her full attention towards Xander about to turn into a sodden puddle any second now, intoning, "But they told me it was 'Ee-gor'."
Mustering every bit of courage he possessed, Xander retorted, "Well, they were wrong then, weren't they?"
Giving her monocle one last twist as if practicing for doing the same in the very near future for someone's testicles, Madam Bones paused and then calmly took her fingers away from her face to drop these down at her side. She gave one last worrying stare at Xander swaying on his feet, before absently announcing to nobody in particular, "Quite so."
With that final statement, Madam Bones walked off into the crowd with much more dignity than Umbridge ever had, watched by a puzzled audience clearly expecting more. They did get this, somewhat, when Lucius Malfoy grabbed his near-catatonic minion by the shoulder and dragged him away toward the atrium elevators.
Getting into the first available elevator, Lucius was in the middle of irately demanding from Igor, "What in Merlin's name was all that—" when another wizard slipped in past the closing doors to stand there with his back turned to the other occupants.
Lucius was sufficiently diverted from venting his spleen upon a non-responsive Igor by recognizing that stranger as the very person they'd come to find in the Ministry of Magic.
Determinedly staring ahead at the elevator doors, the Unspeakable pushed the button for the next floor down and then muttered as if talking to himself, "Nobody else is scheduled to visit the Veil today, my lord. You should still keep your visit as brief as possible and please refrain from performing any detectable magic there."
With those last words, the Unspeakable brought out his wand from his arm holster and waved the wooden stick at the elevator controls, softly saying several short words under his breath. This spell made a new direction button appear at the very bottom on the controls, which the Unspeakable promptly pushed before putting his wand back into the holster.
Still not turning around to look at Lucius intently listening to everything, the Unspeakable continued until the elevator doors opened for the next floor, "When you leave, make sure you don't need to come back. The button for that floor won't appear again."
Indeed, when Lucius checked the elevator controls, there were now only the buttons for the floors he already knew. At that point, the Unspeakable left the elevator and went off into the Ministry hallway out of sight without another word. Lucius nodded with satisfaction at how smoothly things were going, even regarding with a hint of approval Igor standing there with his eyes squeezed shut. After all the latest ridiculous events, it was clear the Malfoys were about to finally achieve their most cunning plan ever in order to conquer the British wizarding world!
Nothing could possibly go wrong!
Lucius enjoyed the ensuing short elevator ride downwards to the Ministry basement while making a mental list over exactly who he'd eliminate first after claiming the power given to him by Igor's Master of Masters. His elated mood was soon ended by the elevator coming to a stop and the doors opening…into one of the most ominous scenes Lucius had ever seen.
Out there in the center of the dimly-lit room, a crumbling stone archway arose from a dais set in a deep pit carved from the basement bedrock. Hanging across the archway was a fluttering black curtain which moved continuously as if blown by a breeze, even though the air was completely still at where Lucius and Igor were looking out from the elevator.
Without any warning at all, Igor stepped out from the elevator into the room and kept on walking directly towards what had to be nothing but the Veil itself. A startled Lucius who hadn't even had the chance to order him to do this followed after, eyeing with growing unease how nearer they were coming to the Veil.
The older wizard shortly became even more apprehensive at hearing from Igor a joyous question, "Can't you hear it?"
"Hear what?" a bewildered Lucius replied, picking up the pace to arrive at Igor's side as they continued walking together.
Glancing at his minion's face now evident made Lucius stumble in surprise at seeing how absolutely delighted he seemed to be, grinning in purest elation at that ill-omened artifact…and in fact, there was presently coming from this a series of low, menacing whispers.
Xander, on the other hand, was gleefully reveling in listening to a harmonious rendition done by none other than Mama Cass at her very best from her group's biggest hit:
"All the leaves are brown
And the sky is gray
I've been for a walk
On a winter's day
I'd be safe and warm
If I was in L.A.
California dreamin'
On such a winter's day"
Coming to a halt on the rim of the pit, Lucius watched dumbfounded at how Igor kept on going right towards the Veil without a pause or even otherwise showing he was aware his Master had stayed behind. The older man's eyes widened with genuine horror as he realized what was about to happen, just managing to yell a protesting "NO!"
Alas, Igor marched directly into the Veil, brushing aside the curtain with perfect confidence, to then vanish absolutely from view in the moment before the curtain fell back across the Veil.
Lucius stood there dithering, trying to come to grips with what'd just disastrously occurred until something even more extraordinary took place.
There was totally no forewarning before a presence thrust out its head from deep inside the Veil which swept apart the curtain, a transparent seeming of some sort of canine beast's cranium as wide and deep as the entire Veil's opening. It evidently couldn't get further out through the Veil since its unseen shoulders prevented this, for which Lucius Malfoy was sincerely grateful as he cowered in abrupt terror.
This full-blown dread was only heightened by the transparent head having eyes blazing with eldritch power and a message transported directly into Lucius' head without even bothering to pass through the mortal's ears:
THAT ONE IS MINE, LITTLE WIZARD. DO NOT EVER SUMMON HIM AGAIN OR ELSE COME TO MY ATTENTION IF YOU WISH TO LIVE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
Lucius felt something warm and wet trickle down his left inner thigh as he jerkily nodded in utter submission. Thankfully, after a moment more of the beast's terrible scrutiny, it slowly faded from existence, leaving behind nothing to indicate it'd ever been there.
The sole remaining occupant of the Death Chamber then spent the next minute or so concentrating on getting his shakes sufficiently under control to that he could take out his wand and use it to cast a Scourgify spell upon himself. That at least banished the trail of urine running down his leg, but Lucius devotedly yearned for something on the order of a self-Obliviation to rid every memory of the past few—
"Lord Malfoy?"
To his dying day, Lucius denied he ever shrieked like a scared little girl while jumping a yard straight up at that unexpected question from behind.
Coming down to whirl around and point his wand at two startled Aurors, Lucius at least had enough good judgement to immediately lower his wand at seeing the rather dark looks he was currently receiving from the pair of magical police.
"Pardon me," Lucius huskily cleared his throat. "I'm feeling a bit under the weather at the moment."
"Oh, aye?" the Auror on the left skeptically responded. He went on while both he and his partner casually put their hands closer to their arm holsters with the wands in these, "Madam Bones requests the honor of your presence, now. She'd like the answers to a few minor questions, such as what're you doing here without anyone's permission, where's your companion, and would you prefer to come along quietly or be stunned on the spot?"
The very first frantic thought to go through Lucius's mind was to offer his captors the biggest bribe he could manage, and thank Merlin he had a sack full of Gringotts gold—
Actually, no, he didn't. The horrific vision of Igor unhesitantly stepping into the Veil re-ran itself once more in Lucius' view, except this time Draco's father noted the full sack of gold coins resting in Igor's arms throughout everything as it went with him to wherever that traitorous minion just traveled.
Lucius slowly closed his eyes with real pain. In addition to before long having to deal with Madam Bones, head of the Department of Magical Low Enforcement in person, sooner or later a wizarding husband was going to have to confess to his wife exactly what'd happened to a lot of their money gone astray forever.
It was not a good day to be Lucius Malfoy.
"Yeeeeeaaaahhhh!" Xander Harris exultantly howled, doing his most energetic Snoopy Dance alongside the inland city limits road with its WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE sign.
That was enough of an indication he was back home, along with the bright blue sky, hills browned by the summer heat, and a 1988 Chevrolet Camaro convertible possessing an UC D bumper sticker flashing by with raucous hoots from its driver and passenger of, "Get outta the road, faggot!"
Stopping his dance, Xander looked down at his black robe.
"Oh, right, the dress," he said wryly.
Shaking his head, Xander's gaze then settled upon the sack he'd brought along throughout it all where it was now lying upright, lower end down onto the graveled ground. In a burst of sudden curiosity, Xander bent over to grab the sack and straighten up with it in his arms, as light as ever. Crooking his left arm around the sack, Xander used the fingers of his other hand to yank open the drawstring.
Staring inside the sack filled with gold coins to its brim, Xander reached in to grasp a handful of coins, which were a solid, heavy weight in his hand. He then opened his hand to let the coins engraved with the words UNUM GALLEON and an illustration of a fierce dragon with unfurled wings trickle back into the sack which didn't give any indication it'd regained the minor heft.
Tugging tight the drawstring once more, Xander stood there thinking hard about what to do next. He sure as hell wasn't stopping by his parents' house; they'd probably already rented out his basement bedroom to an alcoholic talking goat or something else even worse.
This was Sunnydale. There was always something worse.
That also let out dropping in at the Summers and Rosenberg houses. He just wasn't sure if Buffy and Wils were there, anyway. Having to explain to Mrs. S or Willow's mom and dad about everything was definitely a non-starter, too.
That left only…
"Yep, the G-man," Xander cheerfully remarked out loud to nobody in particular. Settling the sack in a more comfortable position in his arms, Xander began walking toward Sunnydale and eventually a certain Englishman's apartment.
*Giles is gonna freak to the max. Bet he'll polish his glasses paper-thin listening to me telling him it all. He still can't deny I went through one really oddball adventure in his hometown, not with all the money I've got now and showing him this.*
Xander smirked, continuing with his mental plans. *Won't be too hard changing all this gold to cash. If it comes to that, we'll just melt it down and sell it. College with Buffy and Willow, here I come! Wonder if I can afford my own place now? Hell, even a dorm away from Tony would be great! Best of all, the Scooby Gang is gonna stick together forever!*
At that last thought, Xander whooped in sheer happiness. He kept on grinning throughout his hike, even when catching sight of something more a few yards away from the road in the bushes leading up to the California hills which showed him once again he'd come home.
Passing by the small animal seated upon its haunches and unconcernedly watching him, Xander amiably called out to it, "Hey, Wile E., how's it going?"
The little Canis latrans merely sent him in return a very cool look of 'Us guys will outlive your whole species, monkey-boy' before silently slipping away under the dry bushes. Xander just smiled after the vanished animal, and went on walking.
Deeper in the hills, the air shimmered around the striding form of Coyote-With-A-Capital-C's avatar, and this Native American archetypical trickster bestowed his own wicked grin to the landscape at large. He hadn't had this much fun in centuries!
What was not to like: giving the Powers That Be one in the eye, enjoying all the glorious anarchy his disciple recently sowed in the British wizarding world, and setting up a much more fortunate future as regarding a group of humans for which Coyote had a definite soft spot.
Coyote continued to bare his teeth in malicious amusement at the very thought of what Xander Harris might get up to next with his friends. That action alone from an enduring, major sacred slippery customer sent mystical ripples throughout the entire dimension, causing all sorts of ascended individuals and divinities to nervously glance around and and wonder just why they were supposed to fear something so trifling as a mortal snack cake.
THE END
Author's Note: A reviewer on Twisting the Hellmouth where this story was introduced wanted to know why Xander stopped using his pretend lisp when insulting Umbridge and also why Lucius Malfoy didn't notice his minion's abrupt change of voice. I wrote back that Lucius did notice the sudden absence of this speech impediment, as shown by his beginning interrogation in the Ministry elevator before being interrupted by the Unspeakable. He never had the chance to question Igor further during their visit to the Death Chamber and its unexpected culmination.
As for Xander, he probably just considered the classic comedy lines to be sacrosanct and not to be changed. Or, maybe during the whole stress of the situation, he simply forgot to keep up the lisp.
Another reviewer wanted to know if Xander brought along his magic web-shooters made by the Weasley twins when coming back to Sunnydale and if they still worked. As a reward for pointing this out, that led to the following 100-word omake:
Later on, Rupert Giles convinced himself it was quite acceptable to answer his apartment front door without looking first through the peephole, given it was the middle of the afternoon and no vampire could've possibly been out there.
At the time, however, this Watcher had only a moment to blink at seeing a bizarrely-clad Xander Harris upon the doorstep before a Thwip! sound was promptly followed by him being lifted off his feet, hurled back, and stuck to the rear wall.
Xander then brought down his right wrist with its attached apparatus and poured out a stream of clinking gold coins from the open sack in his other hand, which spread out in a gleaming river of wealth onto the hallway linoleum.
Strolling into the apartment, Xander asked the Englishman glued from boot toes to upper lip, "Hey, G-man, want to hear what I did on my summer vacation?"
Unable to do otherwise, Giles just glared.
