Gwen Tennyson and the Witches of America

A Fanfiction by: A J

Disclaimer: I do not own Ben 10 or Harry Potter. The Original Characters contained within and the plot are all mine.

Chapter Two

B is for Believing

"Max Tennyson, as I live and breathe, how the blazes are you?" The two cousins stared up in wonder at the statuesque woman behind the counter. Grandpa Max had led them into a little general store on the outskirts of Salem, Massachusetts.

"Well, Guinevere, well." Max smiled slowly. "Wow, Gwen, you look great." He paused, then chuckled. "I've got someone to introduce you to. These are my grandkids: Ben," he steered the tousle-haired boy forward. "He's Carl's," he added, then turned and motioned his granddaughter forth. "And this is Frank's youngest, Gwendolyn." He beamed proudly over the pair.

"Kids, this is your Grandma Verdona's sorority sister, Guinevere Binks." He grinned down and gave Gwen a conspiratorial wink. "She's also Frank's godmother."

"So you're the grandma I'm named after?" Gwen asked, smiling shyly. Guinevere nodded.

"It's Ginny Fisher now, Max. Lord, I haven't seen you since the boys graduated. Tell me everything. How's Verdona?"

Overwhelming silence settled over the Tennysons as they looked back and forth. "Ahhhh … 'ahem.' V's been gone for seven years, now, Gwen," Max said, totally flustered.

Ginny paled. "Sev … seven years?"

"Gwen, are you all right?" Max took hold of one of her shaking hands from the countertop. "You were at the funeral, don't you remember? It ... it happened that rainy spring night she was coming back from visiting you on Memorial Day."

Guinevere braced herself against the counter, her gasps audible as she remembered what had happened seven years earlier on Memorial Day. 'The last battle,' she thought, ears buzzing and heart racing. Her eyes teared up, thinking of the argument the two women had gotten into that night, on whether to go 'across the pond' and help or not. Apparently, despite Ginny's warnings, Verdona had gone to Hogwarts after all, and hadn't fared well. 'Then why don't I remember the funeral?' she worried.

"Gwen?" Max repeated, brow drawn in worry.

"Ex … excuse me a minute, Max. I … I've got to … got to …" Guinevere stepped away, her back unnaturally straight, and walked through her back storeroom to her 'specialty wares' area.

The three Tennysons exchanged more worried looks. Before Max or Ben could try, Gwen went to the doorway. "This is girl stuff, guys, not hero stuff. Leave it to me." She followed quietly behind Guinevere before either of them could say anything.

As she came through the doorway of the second storeroom, the Enhancement Charm of Bezell she kept in her pocket warmed against her hip. Withdrawing it, she gasped in surprise as its etched design lit up in a pattern that pointed at 'Grandma Gwen', standing in a back corner. Gwen's unoccupied hand glowed blue in automatic instinct.

As she looked up, Guinevere turned to face her, alerted by her gasp. Ginny held an ornate wand in her left hand, and was standing next to an equally ornate small stone cauldron. There was a band of shimmering, silvery something hanging from wand to cauldron, illuminating the dim room.

Both Gwens pointed accusingly, while simultaneously crying, "You know magic?!" Silence hung ominously between them until …

Ben and Max came tearing through the door, Ben with his hand over an Omnitrix already dialed to XLR8, and Max with his pair of palm-sized stun guns.

"What's wrong?" "Who screamed?" "Which way did they go?" The two men's questions rang loudly as they careened to a stop behind the younger Gwen.

She and Guinevere looked at each other nervously for several seconds more, then the older woman sighed and let her hands fall in defeat. Turning back to the swirling cauldron, she stirred the glowing strand on the end of her wand into the stone bowl, which seemed to contain more of the same eerie bands.

Max put his stunners away with an exhalation of relief. Ben's hands fell lax to his sides as he stared wide-eyed at the roomful of strangeness around them. As bad as she wanted to be right alongside him ogling at everything, Gwen realized just how bad an idea it was to leave Ben wandering unchecked in what was apparently a real magic shop.

Calling up her mana, Gwen threw a blue wall of force between him and the shelf full of odd jars brimming with who-knew-what. At his bellowed "HEY!" she merely glared at him, and growled, "Touch not, lest ye be touched, doofus."

Max rolled his eyes and smirked at his grandkids. "So, Ginny," he started, using the new nickname. It should keep the confusion to a minimum with them both in the room, he supposed. "It's good to see you've kept your hand in the Craft. It's actually why we're here in Salem." With a nod in his granddaughter's direction, he added, "Gwen's been accepted to Salem Sorcery Prep." He beamed proudly down on her as she and Ben both gaped at him in dawning awareness.

"You knew all along that letter was on the level?" Gwen seethed, glaring. When her grandfather just nodded back affably, she threw her hands in the air and grumbled "MEN-nysons!"

Max laughed outright at the now-familiar epithet, which his daughter-in-laws had coined years ago when dating his sons, and revived a decade later dealing with their sons, Ben and Ken. "Well," Max said, once his chuckling had subsided. "What say we take a better look at that letter, Gwen, and see what we can find out while we're in town."