Disclaimer: I own nothing Charmed or Buffy. Nothing at all. I don't make money from this. I do it purely for my own enjoyment.

AN: This is AU. It will get more AU as things progress. It starts during Angelus's reign of terror and season one Charmed. It is possible that there will be spoilers for every season of Charmed, Buffy, and Angel. I don't know yet. I hope that you can bear with me, because I don't know how often I will be able to update. I am not a consistent writer. But I will try.

The Corruption of a Haliwell

Chapter One: Who am I, now?

Xander shivered a little, despite the warm California evening. There was something in the air tonight. He was getting a feeling, and though he didn't get them very often, the nudging at his brain was something he'd learned to listen to. Especially since Buffy had come to town. He sighed at that thought. Buffy and her trials with Angelus were getting worse. The vampire had been in both Buffy's and Willow's rooms, and somebody was going to get hurt soon, and Xander had a feeling that it wasn't going to be neither Angelus, nor the Slayer, judging from the ay things had been working out.

Buffy had better pray that it isn't Cordelia or Willow, the young man thought. Xander never talked about it, and no one else mentioned it, though both Willow and Cordelia, as well as a number of others at the school, had witnessed it, but Xander had a formidable temper, and once he lost control of it, it was difficult to get it back. The anger felt like it burned him from the inside out, and on one occasion, that both he and his parents had blocked from their memories, like good little Sunnydalers, it had physically manifested itself. Willow was his anchor, one of the few things that gave him the strength to control the rage. Cordelia was slowly becoming one. Buffy, on the other hand, was more likely to provoke him than calm him. Jesse had been another calming influence in his life.

Thinking of Jesse made him sigh again. He'd almost lost it that night. Only Willow, and surprisingly a few words from Angel had allowed him to see that it wasn't Buffy's fault the other boy was turned and dust. It was in fact only because of her that Willow was still alive. The incident hadn't caused Xander to like Angel any more, however. He had continued to lurk in shadows, and he was still all mysterious and manly, and way too damn attractive for his own good. Not that Xander would ever make the mistake of saying that ever again.

Lost in his thoughts while walking the nighttime streets of Sunnydale was not the smartest thing Xander could have been doing at the moment, and soon he realized this as his thoughts had a head on collision with a voice.

"Well, well, what have we here?" The voice was that of a generic, if slightly older than most, vampire.

Must be new in town, thought a slightly panicked Xander, because he obviously hasn't met the Slayer.

"Um, sorry if I disturbed you, I was just, um, on my way home, and I'm late, and my dad's gonna kill me, so, I should just leave, and yeah…" Xander's babble trailed off as the vamp interrupted.

"Oh, I think I'll save your dad the trouble and kill you myself…"

"Leave him alone," ordered a voice from behind Xander. For a split second Xander relaxed as he recognized the voice. His would be attacker growled, but left.

Xander went from panicked to paralyzed. He swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes.

"Hello, Xander."

The dark haired young man jumped at the voice.

"Did you miss me?"

He started to tremble.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

Xander slowly turned around and looked at the tall vampire.

"Hello, Angelus."

"That's much better. I missed you."

Xander swallowed and glanced around. "Why would you miss me? We never really got along, even when you did have a soul."

"There isn't anyone around," continued Angelus, ignoring the reference to the soul, as well as the question.

"Yeah, Buffy's not here, but she's been looking for you, and I bet things would go a lot better if I was still alive when she found you, 'cause she is so not into the whole dead friend thing."

"Shhh…I am not going to kill you. I just wanted to talk, and get to know one another."

"Really, because I never thought that was your style, you seemed more like the go for the throat on the first date kinda guy."

Xander was getting more panicked as the conversation progressed and had backed into a tree.

Angelus chuckled and Xander shuddered at the sound.

"Usually, yes. But you have caught my attention. I've been wondering some things about you. I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Um…do I have a choice?" Xander asked.

"No…not really. My first question: Do your friends know that you are gay?"

The question startled Xander enough that he almost forgot to be afraid. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The soul could smell you and that Jesse kid all over each other, and I can smell your attraction to me," the vampire pushed up against Xander, causing Xander to close his eyes and turn his head as his body reacted in ways that he wasn't very pleased with. "Now, answer the question."

"No, they don't. Jesse and I weren't ready to tell anyone, not even Willow. And there hasn't been a reason to since then."

"Good boy. Now, question two: Did you know that you are adopted?"

"What? How can you…I'm not adopted." But even as he said it, Xander knew that the vampire was telling the truth. Not only did it explain so many things, it also felt right, in the same way that he had known something was gong to happen tonight.

"Of course you are. I can smell family blood, and I know yours. Both sides, in fact. And I even double-checked. I went to your house and you smell nothing like the filth that claims you."

Xander had no idea what to say. Angelus smiled, which was a bit creepy, because it was halfway between the tiny smile that was all Angel ever gave, and the psychotic grin that Angelus frequently wore. "Now, I don't think that I need to ask the third question. You obviously didn't know that, so you won't know this.

The vampire pulled away and started to turn, but Xander stopped him.

"Wait. You said…you know my real parents?"

"The soul met your great-grandmother. And as for your father…I met him quite a long time ago, not very long after I had been turned, maybe fifty years or so. Not a very nice fellow, even for your average upper-level demon, which he most definitely was not."

Xander's face went white. "You're lying."

"Now, why would I do that, when the truth is so much more interesting? But seriously. I am not lying. I can prove it. But I don't need to. You can feel it. It scares you, and I can understand that." The vampire was starting to sound less like Angelus, and more like Angel. Especially in Xander's head, and in the shock, he latched on to it as something he could trust. "I have a proposition for you. But I want to give you a day or so to think about things. I didn't want to hurt you, Xander. I wanted you to known the truth, because obviously, no one else cares enough about you to tell it. A half witch, half demon could be pretty powerful. He would be more than worth a Slayer or a Watcher."

Then Angelus was gone, though he had gone only far enough to get out of Xander's sight. The vampire smiled, and this time it was cruel and unpleasant.

How Xander made it home, he was never sure, because he couldn't remember anything after Angel—No, it was Angelus, he reminded himself—had left him. His dad was passed out in the living room and he couldn't see his mother, so he assumed she was in bed, though he checked the bathrooms just to make sure she wasn't passed out in either the bathtub or a pool of vomit.

He lay in bed that night, still trying to process the information about his parents. His real parents. He was a witch. That was good. He had done some reading after Willow had started delving into Wicca and had found a few things of interest. There were several types of magic users, and witches in particular. There were those who did magic by calling on demons and gods like Giles and Ethan Rayne. They were most often called sorcerers and wizards. There were those who did magic through a communion with the earth, like Willow. Then there were those who drew on spiritual energy that lay within themselves, as well as using rituals to gather it from outside sources, like Miss Calendar, or Catherine and Amy Madison. Then there were natural born witches, who had a fundamental connection with magic and the world around them. Apparently like him.

Natural born witches were usually the most powerful, though the more powerful Wiccans could become stronger than the weaker natural born. However, because of their connection with magic itself, natural born witches almost always developed at least on talent or gift, an active power, as they are often called. They could be almost anything, and examples included telekinesis, telepathy, the ability to clone one's self, deflection of other magic, and countless others. The most powerful witches occasionally developed a second.

So, Xander could deal with that, being a witch was cool. It was the other half he was having problems with. Demons were big, slimy, overgrown monsters-under-the-bed, weren't they? Then how could he look human. There must be other types, he though. He told himself to sneak a look at Giles's books tomorrow. An upper level demon. That had to mean something, like he was just under the devil, or the most evil of evils, whatever that was.

Finally after over an hour of tossing and turning, and hearing his dad stumble up the stairs to re-pass out on his bed—Is he really better than a demon? Xander asked himself quietly—he got up. Xander made his way to the office, a tiny room downstairs in the back of the house. It was almost never used and Xander had only been inside once before, and until now never felt the desire to return. He closed the door completely before turning on the light. It was barely bigger than a closet, maybe a six by six room, with a single tiny window.

Xander stood for a moment just looking at the clutter and dusty piles of paper before shaking his head. He picked up the stack of papers that were sitting on the office chair and sat. Setting them on his lap began to leaf through them. He had looked through maybe half the documents, varying from ancient pay stubs to a letter from his aunt, before realizing that when he finished the stack he wouldn't have anywhere to put it. Glancing around for any empty surface and finding none, he reached to one side and pulled open the top drawer of the file cabinet. It was almost completely empty, and the only things inside were a stack of empty folders waiting to be labeled.

Xander snorted slightly, and whispered, "Of course." He glanced at his watch. He still had almost six hours before the school would let him in, and he needed something to keep him from breaking into hysterics until then. So, he grabbed a file and a pen, labeled it FINANCES and slid it into place, with the top three pages going into it.

"Wot's got you lookin' like the canary that ate the cat?" asked Spike as Angelus entered the warehouse.

"I just began the process of breaking in Darla's replacement."

Spike swiveled his wheelchair around to face the older vampire. "You turned a bird? As in a new childe? You must be off your bloody rocker. Darla tore us apart, all we need is another one. And her family…"

"Spikey, Daddy hasn't made us a new sibling, not yet, and the family doesn't know their child," Drusilla said as she danced across the room from where she'd been standing at a table covered with strange plants, substances that are better left unnamed, and a small black cauldron.

A witch, not knowing her family…I'm sorry luv, but that is a bit more off than your usual."

"But kitten isn't anyone's daughter, is he Daddy, no and the grandmummy and her granddaughters never knew about the fun the Old One's son had with their mum."

Angelus sighed as Dru pasted herself to his side.

"That's right Dru. Xander is a surprise."

"Harris? You can't honestly believe…"

"Harris isn't a Harris, Spike. He's a Haliwell. The first male Haliwell since they became witches."

"A Haliwell!" Spike tried to interrupt.

"And yes," Angelus continued on over the top of him, "he's got those three sisters, but they don't know anything about him. So it shouldn't even be an issue. But here's the best part. Guess who the father is." Angelus leaned forward, putting his hands on the arms of the wheelchair and putting his mouth right next to Spike's ear.

"I'm sure you are going to tell me," Spike said, rolling his eyes.

"Sysphaxus," Angelus whispered.

Spike gaped, opening and closing his mouth a few times before anything came out. Drusilla giggled behind him, dancing with Miss Edith, her doll.

"Zankou's brother? Wait, he's half-Haliwell and half-demon?" asked Spike.

"Oh, yes. And I can't wait to see what he can do with all that darkness. I can tell it's just waiting to be released."

"A Haliwell and an upper level demon," Spike mused. Bloody hell, we'll be the Scourge of the World!"

"Spike, I like the way you think," Angelus laughed. "Dru, have you finished that unbinding potion?"

"The blood to drink is always sweet when mixed with the wine," was the only response he got.

"Dru," he growled, "fix the potion."

"Yes, Daddy. Would you spare the kitten a drink?" she asked, holding out an empty goblet towards the older vampire. Angelus bit into his wrist and let the cup fill. Then he offered the wrist to Spike who greedily drank of the offered Sire's blood.

"We'll have you out of that chair in no time," Angelus whispered. Then he pulled back his arm and picked Spike up. He carried the paralyzed vampire to the master bedroom as Drusilla hummed and poured the blood into the slightly steaming cauldron.

By the time six-thirty rolled around Xander had sorted through close to half the papers in the small office, but he still hadn't found anything pertaining to his birth or adoption. He had found a number of interesting letters from the mayor, however, talking in vague terms about how the Harrises were doing a "great service for their community." He had filed those under correspondence, even though he had no idea what they were about.

He heard his dad stumble out to his car and take off for work, no doubt after a shot of whiskey or a can of beer. He then made his way back upstairs and showered and dressed. At five 'til seven he was out the door and less than ten mintues later was in the library. He was shocked to find that not even Giles was there, but that made finding the books he wanted that much simpler. He quickly found the book on witches and tucked it into his bag. He then started browsing the titles, the few he could read anyway for something on upper-level demons.

He was about to give it up as looking for a needle in a haystack. Literally every book seemed to be about demons of some sort or another, and he had no idea where to look for upper-level demons. Then the library door opened.

"Good lord, Xander, what are you doing here?" Giles asked.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, "and I thought I'd catch up on my, uh, demon-detecting skills."

"Well, that is…that is very…very ambitious of you. What were you, uh, looking for?"

"I read something the other day about upper level demons, and was wondering what the difference was."

"Oh my. Upper level demons are, well, more powerful. They wield a much greater array of powers, and often have a human form that they usually appear in. Only rarely do they take on their demonic form, which is as unique as they themselves. They stand right below the Source of All Evil and the First Evil in the hierarchy, as such things go," Giles had fallen into lecture mode, but for once Xander was hanging on every word. "Though at one point, a few thousand years ago, the two of them were almost overthrown by a pair of brothers. I can't recall the names right now, however. Anyway. It is very unlikely that we shall ever deal with such as them. They tend to stay away from the hellmouth. They like it closed. They like things the way they are. They also have their own Champions of light to deal with without getting in the way of the Slayer." Giles pondered for a moment. "Though, it wouldn't be a bad thing for you to read up on them. After all, knowledge is power." The librarian went into his office, where he kept the rarer and more dangerous books and came out with a single slim volume. Handing it to Xander he said, "It isn't much. The Watchers don't have much on them, unlike the families of natural born witches, who often keep a Book of Shadows, full of the information on all the demons they have ever encountered. Unfortunately, they are also very secretive, and very few of them are in contact with the Council."

"Thanks, Giles," said Xander, who was looking slightly sick, but took the book anyway and turned toward the door. "Do you mind if I borrow it for a few days?"

"No, go…go ahead. Like I said, it isn't likely we'll be needing that particular book anytime soon," Giles said, a little surprised at the sudden studious turn of the normally book shy boy.

Xander headed to a secluded part of the quad where it was unlikely he would be seen. Especially by Willow and Buffy. Both girls would know something was wrong, and Willow would force the truth out of him long before he was ready to talk. He sat on the grass beneath a tree and began to read.

Upper level demons are hard to classify. They are individuals, and as such no two are alike. It is unknown just how they are formed, unlike lesser demons, whose breeding habits have been observed, indeed, if not experienced, in unfortunate cases. It is postulated that they are direct descendents of the Old Ones, remaining on this plane by diluting their blood, and therefore their power, through breeding with humans…There are some broad traits that most, if not all, upper level demons share.

Xander was interested to find that instantaneous transportation was the most widespread power. Literally every demon had the ability to move from one place to another in some fashion or another. Shimmering was the most common, and Flaming was common in demons of mid-level power, but the most powerful demons had their own ways of doing things. Many demons had offensive powers as well. Fireballs were probably the most common, though energy balls were prevalent as well. The human form of upper level demons was a little confusing, however.

The theory that upper level demons are the result of the Old Ones forcing themselves upon human is supported by the fact that many upper level demons look human, and very rarely take on the appearance of anything resembling the lower level demons. This makes them very dangerous, because they can easily blend in to the human population, and in fact many often do just that. They take on human lives, and can even infiltrate governments and other organizations. They have also been known to use their human form to trick humans into mating with them, and the half-demon children that result are often just as bad as their demonic parent. Half-demons have been known to be the most foul of their kind. Balthazar is one that often is used to reference this fact. On occasion a half-demon is able to use his or her powers against their demonic brethren, but it is difficult for them to overcome the darker nature within them.

Xander tossed the book away from him and leaned to the side and threw up as soon as he read this, and then sat shaking until the bell rang. He wiped his mouth and shoved the book back into his bag. As he walked down the hall to his class, the only thought running through his mind was, I'm evil. I'm evil, so my mother got rid of me.

An aide knocked on the door and at the light, "Enter," came into the office.

"Sir," he said, "we have just received notification from our seers that a stipulation has been met."

"Really," the suited man sitting behind the large desk reclined. "What was the arrangement?"

"It was an anonymous client. She wrote five letters, and the stipulation was that we hold them until one of two things happened. One of the three older siblings died, or one of the two younger became aware of their witch heritage. Then they were to be delivered."

"And which was filled?"

"The second, sir."

"Pity, that. Death always does a family good. No matter. Who are these children?"

"We don't know. The one who discovered the heritage lives in Sunnydale, and he appears to be the youngest, but the other four are unknown."

"Curious. What details do we know about him?"

"Little. She was very strict on the amount of information she would give us. However, the seers told us that a Master Vampire recognized the boy, something about having met his ancestors at one point or another."

"That could be interesting. Where is the mother now?"

"Client upkeep on the file says she died around a year after the transaction, killed by a demon."

"Do we know anything about his father? Or why the two younger children were unaware of their background?"

"From what the seers could ascertain, the two younger have separate fathers from the other three, but we don't know anymore than that."

"Very, well," the lawyer grinned, and the aide shivered imperceptibly. "Send the letters in a month. If we wait long enough, this boy might pick up some…bad habits. Make sure tracking spells are placed on all the letters, and find out who these children are."

"Yes, sir."

"After all, we must always be on the lookout for future hindrances to Wolfram and Hart. And potential clients."