And Hijinks Ensued by xanfan

AU -SLASH - Co-written with SublimatedAngel -Spike and Xander take Dawn to Hogwarts for protection from Glory. As usual, trouble finds them anyway.

Index

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Torture
Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Arriving
Chapter 3: Chapter 3 – A New Way to Travel
Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Lost In Translation
Chapter 5: Chapter 5 - Service with a Smile
Chapter 6: Chapter 6 - Introductions

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Torture

Author's Notes: Subtitle: Why Spike Lost His Mind, and Most of His Hair

Author: Xanfan & SublimatedAngel

Fandom: Crossover with Buffy/Angel and Harry Potter

Rating: MA

Pairing: multiple pairings, M/M, M/F, M/M/M

Summary: Spike and Xander take Dawn to Hogwarts for protection from Glory. As usual, trouble finds them anyway.

Spoilers: Buffy through season 5, Angel through season 2, HP no Half-Blood Prince

Warnings: Slash

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This is our first combined effort written for the express purpose of launching the new fanfic archive site The Crossroads of Fan Fiction, www.thecroff.com.

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Spike eyed the man sitting next to him in the too close confines of the airplane and wondered if he would pass out from the pain his chip would inflict before or after he strangled the annoying git.

“Spike, I’m bored,” said the man sitting next to him.

“Yeah, Spike, we’re bored,” whined the girl sitting on Spike’s other side.

Spike stifled a growl of frustration and shifted in his seat, silently cursing the Watcher for not ponying up the dosh for First Class seats.

Spike looked as his watch to see how much longer he would be forced to endure this torture and barely held back a gasp of horror to see they were only fifteen minutes into their flight. Fifteen minutes into their nine hour flight to England. Maybe the passing out from chip inflicted pain wouldn’t be so bad. And really, he was a vampire, so what were the chances that the brain damage would be permanent?

“Spike, the movie doesn’t start for another hour, and I’m bored,” Dawn whined from her window seat.

Spike turned to the man sitting in the aisle seat next to him to ask for assistance in entertaining the girl and was confused to see Xander leaning out into the aisle to look at something. His confusion was not abated when he saw the object of the young carpenter’s gaze was the arse of the bent over flight attendant who was talking to someone several aisles ahead of them. The male flight attendant.

Spike was about to comment when he registered the drink cart the flight attendant was now towing towards them. His attention was instantly diverted; if anything could dull the pain of listening to his companions, it was alcohol. He didn’t really care what kind at this point, as long as it was something with a high proof. He reached in his pocket for the traveling money Rupes had handed him before they left and snickered; really, the man should have known better than to give HIM the money. If Spike couldn’t sit in First Class, he would at least be getting snockered on the Watcher’s dime.

Xander elbowed Spike when the anxious fidgeting became too much.

“What was that for?” Spike said with his own whine.

Xander raised an eyebrow. “You’re moving around too much. What is your problem? It’s not like you have to go to the bathroom or anything, so what’s with the Mr. Wiggles routine?”

The bleached vampire raised one hand and pointed expectantly at the drink cart. “Booze.”

Xander flicked a glance towards Dawn, reminding Spike of why they were here. “Yeah, okay, just don’t get too drunk. And pace yourself, it’s a long flight.”

Spike’s answer was preempted by ‘Kendal with one L’ and his drink cart. Spike didn’t even snarl at the tall, red-headed flight attendant’s enthusiastic smile. He was too busy leering at the little bottles of alcohol that peeked enticingly at him from the cart.

“He’ll have a couple of bottles of Jack, she’ll have a Coke and I’ll have Sprite,” Xander said with a beaming smile in response to Kendal’s drink query, answering quickly to prevent Spike from offering all their cash for all the booze on the plane. Which Spike hadn’t really been contemplating, really he hadn’t. Mostly.

Kendal handed them their drinks after getting exact change from Spike, who was so focused on the promise of JD that he didn’t even complain about flight attendants never carrying money to make change with.

Spike took a sip of his long awaited beverage and sighed at the fiery burn. Okay, so he’d only had to wait a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity. He settled back to enjoy his nectar of the gods.

His peace lasted all of five minutes before Xander leaned over him and tugged on Dawn’s braid to get her attention because she was wearing headphones while reading a magazine.

“Ow!”

Dawn leaned across Spike and smacked Xander’s arm…hard.

Spike would have smiled in pride and mocked Xander’s echoing ‘Ow!’, but she smacked him hard on the arm, too.

“Oi, what was that for?” Spike asked, giving her a wounded look.

“For letting him pull my hair,” Dawn answered with teenage-girl-logic.

Spike just rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink.

Xander laughed and asked Dawn for one of her magazines, to which she snorted in response.

“Spike, she won’t let me read one of her magazines,” Xander whined.

“Why would you want to read one my girly magazines anyway?” Dawn asked.

“Girly magazines?” Spike and Xander asked at the same time, both voices carrying tones of combined shock and interest.

Dawn looked at them in confusion and then wrinkled her nose. “Eww, you pervs.”

She raised the cover of her magazine to show them the ‘COSMO Girl’ title.

“Magazines for GIRLS,” Dawn said in disgust.

Xander and Spike both looked sheepish and slightly disappointed.

As Xander and Dawn continued to bicker back and forth, Spike finished off his first little bottle and opened up the second one, contemplating exactly what he had done to deserve the torture of baby-sitting these two. Besides the hundred and twenty years of murder and mayhem; surely that wasn’t evil enough to deserve this?

When Rupert had brought up the idea of sending Dawn away with Xander to get her away from Glory, Spike had been all for that plan. He hadn’t counted on Buffy volunteering him to accompany them for protection.

He admitted he was rather fond of his Little Bit, and the boy hadn’t been too annoying of late, but still, he would rather be back in Sunny-hell kicking Prada-clad Hellgod ass than stuck on a plane with Xander and Dawn, the poster-children for ADHD.

Figuring out where they could go that Glory couldn’t find them had been a lot easier than he’d expected. While the Slayer and the Watcher had taken control of the discussion, Xander had hesitantly and quietly asked Willow if her location spells on Oz were still failing. When she’d confirmed they were, he’d suggested joining the young werewolf wherever he was at as an ideal place to escape since he couldn’t be found magically. Apparently the failed locator spells weren’t an issue since Xander talked to him on a regular basis.

Spike nearly giggled at the memory of the verbal lashing the brunette had received from the Red Witch over not telling her he was in contact with her ex. Spike kinda felt bad for Glinda the Good Witch, but not enough to stop enjoying the tirade.

Buffy had expressed some concern about her sister being around Oz after his last visit to Sunnydale, when he’d attacked Tara. Xander’s response of, “He can control the werewolf now and use it to protect Dawn if he has to,” had been enough to brook any further argument.

Now, why the hell Oz was currently in a boarding school in Scotland and thought it would be a good place to stay for their protection was a question that had never fully been answered to Spike’s satisfaction. He supposed it didn’t matter. Xander’s message explaining the situation had resulted in a call back from Oz, who had invited them to join him and assured them it was probably the safest place they could go.

Spike looked at his watch and wished he hadn’t. They still had eight more hours left of their flight, and the drink trolley wasn’t likely to make another trip around for at least three.

Back to index

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Arriving

Author's Notes: The site has been up for a whole week! And things are going great if I do say so myself, which I do. To celebrate, I'm giving you the second chapter. Have fun!

see chapter 1 for warnings.

_______________________

“I could have joined the Mile High club!” Xander hissed at him. “But no, you had to go all fangy and scare off the very nice, very interested Kendal. That kind of opportunity doesn't come along every day, Spike.”

Spike couldn't believe they were still arguing about this. The only saving grace was that Xander appeared uncomfortable talking about sex when Dawn was within earshot. That had limited him to easily ignored glares-of-death until the Bit had headed immediately into the ladies' room once they disembarked. He sighed, and hoped against all logic that the line was short.

“Well, as you had no problem reminding me, we're here to protect Dawnie, not have fun. If I can't have a decent-sized bottle, you can't have sex. Besides,” he continued, amazed that he even had to point this out, “Kendal was a bloke.” Xander's expression didn't so much as flicker. “You don't like blokes!” Spike clarified loudly, causing several passing travelers to look their way curiously.

Xander just looked at him pityingly, and the light went on. “Since when do you like blokes?” Spike demanded through his shock.

“Since about the time Anya and I broke up,” Xander said, acting as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Looking like he was still mad at Spike.

“That was months ago! How am I just finding out about this now?” Yeah, Harris and his chit weren't his primary focus or anything, but Spike found it difficult to believe he'd missed something this major.

“Well gee, Spike, I thought about notifying the local vampires and maybe making a trip to Willy’s to put up a sign on the demon community notice board,” Xander said sarcastically, “but then I decided to just stick with telling my friends and guys I was attracted to; you qualify as neither."

Spike spluttered, vaguely offended. Not that he wanted the whelp thinking they were friends, or worse, being interested in more than friendship... but that wasn't the point. “I'll have you know I'm very attractive. You'd be lucky to have me in your bed.”

Xander made a pretense of looking him over, and Spike resisted the slight urge to pose sexily and the stronger urge to pull his duster closed protectively. “Well, you do still have that strong and mysterious thing going for you, but I just don't think you'd quite,” Xander paused, raking him head to toe, “measure up.”

Spike gaped at him, not sure whether to be offended at Xander calling him short or calling him... small. Before he could formulate a response, someone answered for him.

"Hey, good things come in small packages."

“Oz!” Xander said, pulling the smirking young man into a hug. Spike stood by sulkily, relieved when Dawn appeared shortly afterward.

“Sorry, line,” she said before noticing the new arrival. “Hey, Oz is here!”

******

Spike remained sulking through the arduous process of customs, through retrieving their luggage, and through the cab ride to the train station, Dawn having vetoed the bus ride that Oz suggested.

His mood hadn’t been helped by the dour customs agent smirking at him over his passport. Damn the Watcher for deciding the passport he procured for Spike was the appropriate place to show he actually had a sense of humor. He could have chosen pretty much any name, but no, he had to go with ‘Angel S. Folly’. Seriously, Giles had been spending way too much time with those snot nosed children.

“The S is for Spike,” he growled. The agent’s smirk just got bigger. Spike had to admit his comment hadn’t helped; he still sounded like either a stripper or a porn star. Still, he’d be damned if he was going to use the poof’s name.

Now, as they were walking towards track ten, Spike wondered just how much insanity he would have to put up with on this trip. He really should have known better than to even think something like that after un-living on the hellmouth. He turned his attention back to the others, as it seemed they had just stopped at an archway between two tracks.

“So, you just walk through that wall,” Oz was saying.

“Really? Cool!” Dawn said and headed towards the wall. Before Spike could move to stop her from breaking her head, Xander grabbed her arm. Finally, the boy was showing some sense.

“Dawnie, wait. Let me go first, we don’t know what’s on the other side,” Xander said as he stepped past her.

Spike opened his mouth to yell at the brunet man for being an idiot when said man disappeared through a seemingly solid wall. Spike could only sputter in disbelief

They waited for a moment, then Xander’s head appeared back through the wall to give the all clear.

Dawn giggled in delight and followed after her surrogate older brother.

Spike just stared at where his two traveling companions had disappeared. He then turned to the young werewolf to state emphatically that there was no way he would be walking through the bloody wall when Oz just raised an eyebrow at him.

Spike wasn’t sure if the raised eyebrow was calling him a ‘wuss’ or daring him to go through, but he wasn’t about to let some stupid eyebrow make fun of him. So he stepped forward and walked through the wall, slightly amazed that he hadn’t knocked himself out.

Behind him, Oz just rolled his eyes and followed Spike through the wall with the last of the luggage.

Back to index

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 – A New Way to Travel

see chapter 1 for warnings

__________________________

“So when does the train get here?” Xander asked, flopping down on a bench.

Oz checked his watch. “In about... four months.” The others looked at him in disbelief. “We're not taking the train.”

“Obviously,” Spike parried. “So what's the plan then? Why're we at a train station?”

Oz kept studying his watch. Xander wasn't sure, but he felt like 'four months' was a long time to watch the seconds tick by. Suddenly, Oz looked up, a slight smile curving his lips.

Xander opened his mouth to ask why, but was interupted by the sudden appearance (literally; there should have been a puff of smoke at least) of an older man. The newcomer was dressed in arcane-looking (if well used) robes, and Xander and Spike immediately came together in front of Dawn, prepared to defend her from the potential Hellgod devotee.

“It's okay,” Oz reassured them. One of these days, Xander was going to have to explain that cryptic and reassuring didn't work together very well. Oz definitely needed to learn when comforting babble was called for.

Xander shot a quick glance at Spike and saw that he hadn't relaxed either. The vampire was still watching the stranger warily, and his eyes narrowed as he scented the air. His glare turned to Oz.

“One of yours?” Spike demanded.

“It's... complicated,” Oz hedged. “This is Remus. He's taking us to Hogwarts.”

“Well, as close as we can get with the wards up,” Remus clarified, walking towards them. “We'll have to walk the last part. And hello; I'm Remus Lupin. You must be the friends Oz mentioned.”

Introductions were made quickly; Remus seemed to know who they were already, and Xander figured Oz must have described them before they showed up. After all, it wasn't that hard to tell them apart: one teenage girl, one tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome construction worker, and one pint-sized biteless vampire with a Billy Idol complex.

“We should go,” Oz said when they were done. Remus pulled a child’s jump rope from his robes and handed one end to Oz, taking the other for himself, then gestured for the others to grab on. They stared at him.

“Go ahead, grab on. There isn’t much time before it activates,” Remus said as he shrank their bags and put them in the pocket of his robes.

Dawn and Xander looked at each other and shrugged before grabbing hold of the jump rope between Oz and Remus, leaving space for Spike to grab on as well. They looked at him expectantly.

“Now, hold on here. If you think I’m gonna play jump-rope like some nancy boy poufter, you’re even dafter than usual,” Spike protested.

Xander rolled his eyes, grabbed Spike’s hand and wrapped it around the jump rope and held it there with his own. Before Spike even had a chance to object, Xander felt a sudden tugging at his navel, as if his body were twisting inside out. The irresistible pull intensified quickly, changing faster than he could keep up with, until it suddenly stopped. Xander pitched forward dizzily, landing in a small clearing. Spike and Dawn tumbled down next to him, while Oz and Remus stood by looking as placid as always.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Spike demanded as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“Yeah, seriously… I feel like I should be counting my tickets to see how many times I can go again,” Xander said, his equilibrium returning with a tagalong craving for cotton candy and the sudden desire to see if the fun house mirror would reflect vampires. Remus pulled him easily to his feet, and Xander gave him a smile.

“Portkey. Cooler than the Gravitron, huh?” Oz said as he offered Dawn a hand in standing up.

Xander thanked Remus for helping him up and said, “My head hurts less and my tailbone hurts more, but yeah. The pain isn’t stopping me from wondering when we can do it again.”

Dawn nodded frantically in agreement. “Oh yeah, again please, after my butt heals.”

“Yeah, such a shame we’ve arrived and won’t be doing that again,” Spike declared sarcastically. “I can’t tell you how thrilling it was to have my toenails and my eyeballs meet up as they passed through my spleen. Suppose we’ll just have to get our kicks some other way, and never ever do that again.”

Dawn and Xander shared a mutual eye roll at his antics and each caught Oz’s eye to make sure they would get a chance to do that again at some point. They quickly hid their smiles when Oz gave them a slight nod and smile in return.

“Come on, it’s a little hike up to the school, but not too far. We couldn’t portkey directly there because of the protective wards on the school, but we’re just outside them now. Dinner should be on about the time we get there,” Remus said as he headed out.

“Oh food, I’m starving, lets go so we don’t miss out on the yum,” Dawn said as she followed him. Spike followed after her, still grumbling about being turned inside out and the improbability of there being good blood served and how he’d likely starve to death and all the trials he’d been forced to undergo on the flight to England.

Xander and Oz hung back for a moment and then followed.

“So, you and the old guy seem pretty close. Being around an older wolf like that must be great. Bet he’s able to guide you through all those… animal instincts,” Xander said teasingly.

Oz just gave him an inscrutable grin, neither confirming or denying, and changed the subject. “So what’s that Spike is muttering under his breath about you and red-headed flight attendants and the Mile High Club?”

Instead of blushing like Oz thought he would, Xander just huffed, “I was this close, man. This close, but no Spike had to suddenly decide to be all overprotective and stuff.”

“Flight attendant, really? Details? A name, at least?” Oz asked.

“Kendal, with one L,” Xander sighed.

“Hot?”

“Oh yeah. He was totally hot, great smile. And a redhead, I have a weakness for redheads. Hence the whole 'Fluke' incident. Wish I’d figured out then that the equipment was all wrong,” Xander said.

“Oh yeah, redheads rock… wait, equipment? He?” Oz asked.

Xander realized he’d left something out of his occasional talks with Oz, but decided that if Oz wasn’t going to tell him about that Remus guy, he wasn’t going to give Oz anymore details. Instead he just smiled enigmatically and then walked ahead to catch up with Dawn to discuss another very important subject: impending foodage.

Oz stared after him, wondering what other surprises were in store. The visitors from Sunnydale were sure to be full of them, if past experience was any indication. Of course, Hogwarts had its own share of interesting people, especially considering a certain brood of red-haired wizards. If Xander had looked back, he might have been frightened by the truly evil smirk spreading over Oz’s face as he contemplated the best way to spring his own surprises.

Back to index

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Lost In Translation

See chapter 1 for warnings.

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Xander leaned forward and snagged another of the buttery shortbread things. He'd been a little irked when they'd told him dinner would have to wait until after their meeting with this Dumbledore guy, because hey, growing boy with an appetite, you know? But they'd been immediately offered tea (and what was with English people and their tea?) and biscuits, which was some weird English-person code for cookies.

Xander had learned long ago that accepting tea was the easiest way to mellow Giles out, and so he'd jumped right in and done his usual 'add sugar until you can't tell it's tea' routine. Really, lukewarm tan Koolaid wasn't bad; you developed a taste for it. He watched as Dawn took another reluctant sip of her tea and figured he should clue her in. Later, of course. He wasn't paying much attention, but the old guy in the pink, red, and turquoise robes looked like he was saying something important, and it would be rude to interrupt with 'making tea drinkable' advice.

It wasn't really his fault he couldn't pay attention. It wasn't that he didn't want to. It's just that his body had been well trained by the California public school system, and sitting in the principal's office automatically started his body's subroutine of looking interested and nodding appropriately while his mind wandered. He couldn't help it! Judging by the glazed look on Dawn's face, she was experiencing something similar. At least Spike seemed to be following, wearing his usual 'I hate you all and wish I didn't have this chip so I could rip out your intestines and decorate my crypt with them' look. He could brief them later if the old guy was saying anything important. Xander grabbed one of the little strawberry jam sandwich cookies.

*******

“So... anything important we should know?” Xander asked casually as they followed the werewolves to the Great Hall for dinner.

Spike looked at him sharply. “Why're you askin' me? Those two are the ones who'll know the dirt on this place,” he said, lifting his chin to where Remus and Oz were walking, talking and chuckling quietly. “I don't think ol' Dumbledork left anything out, though. Pretty sure he told us all the important bits.”

Xander squirmed a little, but forged ahead. “Right. And those bits would be...?” he trailed off questioningly.

“Oh, thank god,” Dawn said. “I thought I was the only one falling asleep in there.”

Spike stopped cold and fixed them with a look that was equal parts anger and disbelief. “We are here in this bloody castle full of mojo, which was your idea, by the way, in order to save Dawn's life, and you two didn't think it was important to listen when the headmaster was warning you about the bloody vicious willow tree or the nightmare things prowling about the fucking forest? Did you listen to any of it? What could possibly have made you think... well, obviously, you didn't bloody think... I can't believe...” Spike was turning purple, which Xander hadn't even realized vampires could do. His diatribe splintered into increasingly short sentence fragments, growly noises, and curse words until he finally clenched his teeth and his fists and spun away to catch up with Oz and Remus.

Xander turned to Dawn, who was looking a little shell-shocked. He gave her a weak smile.

“So... I guess some of it was important, huh?”

*******

After dinner (and hadn't that been weird, being introduced to a bunch of kids and teenagers as “muggle guests” and then stared at and whispered about while they ate a bunch of food that had magically appeared and pretended not to notice), the three of them were shown to their quarters. The rooms so far didn't show a lot of creativity, being pretty much a continuance of the “old English castle” theme, with stone walls and antique-y looking wood furniture, but they were nice. Remus had a long but important talk with a painting in the corridor, which turned out to be a kind of door that they were supposed to give a password to.

The painting swung aside to reveal a little sitting room, with three doors leading to bedrooms. Bedrooms with stone walls and antique-y looking dressers and big beds with posts and canopies and curtains. At least they were bulky flat canopies and thick curtains, so the beds didn't end up looking like the lacy pink and white thing Willow had when she was six and still wanted to be a ballerina princess when she grew up. Xander wasn't sure he could sleep in a pretty princess bed.

Spike had finally calmed down enough to fill them in on the stuff they'd missed in Dumbledore's office. Even though he hadn't had any blood (they were keeping his vampire nature a secret from the children – for now at least), just having dinner seemed to have turned his stress dial back down from the red zone. Xander wondered if it was all the weird English food, making Spike feel at home. Stealing Giles' imported stuff had always made Spike happy too, but Xander had figured it was the stealing and grossing them out by adding it to blood part. Maybe the truth was that even Big Bads got homesick.

“So that's everything you would've already known about if you'd been listening like you should. Reckon I'll still have to keep an eye on you, since you seem to attract trouble like a magnet and you seem to sneak off and find it on your own.” Spike glared at each of them in turn, as if they had chosen to be the demon equivalent of catnip and a Hellgod's key to freedom on purpose, just to make Spike's life more difficult. “You think next time the headmaster tells you about lethally dangerous stuff you can pay attention? I didn't sign on to be your message service in addition to your babysitter.”

“I was okay during dinner,” Xander said, slightly annoyed. “We told you, it's just the whole principal's office thing. Good American kids like us can't be expected to focus in a situation like that. It goes against the laws of nature or something. And you can call him a headmaster if you want to, but Dawnie and I know a principal when we see one.” Dawn nodded supportively when Xander paused. “Your weird British code doesn't work on us, pal. You might as well give up now and start speaking English.”

Spike sputtered in frustration. “English is what us 'weird British' speak! Look at the etymology of the word – English, as in England? I know you're not that bright, but even you can't miss that connection.”

“Whoa, whoa... did you just say etymology?” Xander's eyes danced with glee. “That's it, buddy, we're revoking your uneducated punk-rock slacker club membership. You might as well start wearing tweed. We're onto you.” Dawn's coughing/snorting fit sounded suspiciously like a cover for laughter, and Spike shot her a look before returning his glare to Xander.

“Right, 'cause you're in charge of deciding who's cool? Please. I've seen lepers more popular than you. Better fashion sense, too.”

Xander was about to defend his clothing choices by comparing them to Dumbledore's eye-gougingly colorful robes (conveniently forgetting that he had at least one shirt with a similar color scheme), but there was a strange popping sound to the side. All three whirled to find an ugly little creature standing beside them.

“Fuck!” Spike exclaimed, snagging Dawn and pushing her behind them. “Thought we were supposed to be safe!”

“We were! I mean, we are. Supposed to be,” Xander replied, equally panicked. “They swore Glory couldn't get in here, that the wards would keep her out.”

“Apparently the wards don't work on her minions,” Spike scowled, looking determined. “At least there's only one this time.” After a moment, a slow grin spread across his face, and the foul little minion began to back away nervously, eyes wide. “Come to think of it,” Spike said slowly, “I think I'm due a little payback from my last visit.”

And he began to advance on the short, wrinkled thing as it backed fearfully away on stubby, spindly legs.

Back to index

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 - Service with a Smile

Author's Notes:  

Summary: Spike and Xander take Dawn to Hogwarts for protection from Glory. As usual, trouble finds them anyway.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Wizards didn't think much of house elves. Not that they didn't value them, although Hermione would happily debate that, but just that a wizard rarely took the time to think about them beyond their immediate usefulness.

It wasn't really that surprising. After all, house elves rarely called attention to themselves, let alone to any sort of house elf culture or society. If you were born a wizard, you grew up surrounded by them, as ubiquitous as leaves on a tree, and thought no more about them than you did the clusters of greenery dressing the elms in the garden. Muggle-born wizards gave them a little more thought, but being thrust into the wizarding world was an experience thoroughly gilded in strange and wonderful discoveries; amidst wands and brooms and all the other brightly fantastic new things, the drab, quiet little creatures who washed the dishes and mended your socks drew little attention, and for the most part faded into the background of the world having never been an object of much curiosity.

Things were very different from a house elf's point of view. While they prided themselves on being quiet and humble, a house elf was intensely aware of their lineage, and one of their strongest instincts was to bring no shame to that line. Wizards might rise and fall and rise to grace again, all within one lifetime, but a house elf carried the weight of generations of actions.

Kiblin contemplated his place as he carefully readied a tray for the newest guests. He had, like any other elf, been brought up to know and value all the elves that had come before him, and had known since he was very young that he was privileged to be born into such a prestigious line. Through the ages, his ancestors had served many great and powerful wizards, oftentimes wizards so powerful as to rule the wizarding world.

House elves, it should be noted, did not discern between Light or Dark wizards; they'd observed that the judgment of good or evil often rested upon who was in power, and it was power they paid mind to.

Brushing an errant sleeve back, Kiblin closely examined the tray for streaks or tarnish, its mirror-like surface reflecting his thoughtful face. Finding it acceptable, he turned and considered the many glasses and goblets available, repeatedly tugging at falling socks and unwinding scarves as he did so. His unruly attire was bothersome, but he endeavored to focus his attention on the task he had been assigned, rather than dwell on the mundane details of his own state.

He could hear tittering in the background as he perused the shelves, and knew he was the object of the other elves' amusement. It wasn't his clothes, although he knew they mocked him for them. House elves were usually thinly clad in cast off tea towels or pillowcases, not wrapped in layers upon layers of wool and linen, hats and socks and shawls and even one shameful petticoat hidden beneath his breeches. To dismiss a house elf, you see, a wizard gave the elf an article of clothing. Kiblin had received many articles.

It was a mystery to him as to how he could be so unlucky; he had been born to a distinguished and noble line, under a stern but powerful master, and had been trained in his duties by the very finest of house elves amongst the staff. He should have been impeccable, an efficient and admirable paragon of an elf, a source of honor for the other elves of his line.

Instead, he'd found himself tumbling from master to master as each dismissed him in turn. He couldn't understand it. It seemed that the harder he'd tried to please each new wizard, the quicker they were to get rid of him, leaving him desolate and searching for yet another place in which to belong. He'd fallen further and further from each position until he'd at last found himself without a master, and unable to obtain a new one. His shame and desolation had at last led him to seek refuge in Hogwarts. He tried valiantly to soothe his troubled heart by telling it that he served Dumbledore, whom all elves agreed was a powerful wizard indeed, but on the worst days he knew the truth: he was an elf with no master. It was the greatest disgrace he could imagine.

But it was nothing new, and it wasn't what the other elves were whispering and sniggering about. No, it was his assignment.

Word had spread quickly amongst the elves that muggles had been allowed into the great wizarding school, beings lower even than squibs, humans with no magic at all, without even the knowledge of the world of wizards. Few house elves had ever even seen such a wretched creature (some insisted that they did not even really exist, but were a fairy tale made up to scare recalcitrant young elves), and the news had caused quite a commotion when it reached the kitchens.

Their disquiet grew when they learned that along with the muggles, who troubled their thoughts enough on their own, there was a vampire, a dark creature. This terrible news had come from Piffoly, the head house elf of the castle, who had been charged by Dumbledore himself to assign the guests a house elf to serve their needs. Kiblin's heart sank as he saw Piffoly's smile; he knew himself to be in disgrace with the head elf, who seemed to blame him, even more than his wizard masters had done, for the numerous unfortunate and unlucky accidents which befell Kiblin as he performed his duties.

It came as no surprise when Piffoly laid the burden of these muggles and the vampire upon his well-clad shoulders. He'd been given a task before even meeting his temporary masters, the duty of gathering blood by which the vampire must feed, lest it give in to its dark nature and glut itself on the blood of the noble and innocent young wizard children within the school.

Even as he felt sullied and dishonored to have fallen so low, Kiblin did his best to keep the stain of his debasement from touching his new masters. For as low and ignoble as these creatures must surely be, they were honored guests of the great wizard Dumbledore, and they were his masters now, however temporary. Kiblin found some measure of solace in that fact. He'd withered within the nameless and transitory service at the school, struggling to uphold his laudable lineage as best he could without a regular master and slowly losing himself to the anonymity of the hundreds of interchangeable students. At last, at last, he had specific masters to which he was accountable, a trio of masters whom he could study and learn to please, a way to regain some semblance of pride in his place within this vast school. He selected the perfect dark goblet, and filled it with the pig's blood he'd been instructed the vampire was to be given. After running a final careful eye over the tray, he nodded approvingly, and disappeared from the kitchen.

Kiblin cringed and contemplated disappearing back to the kitchen as the vampire stalked across the room to him, eyes full of the promise of pain. Only the knowledge of the disgrace and mocking laughter that would befall him if he fled kept him in the room as the dark creature advanced, waves of barely-leashed violence rolling off of it. The tray lay abandoned and unnoticed on a small table in the sitting room, and Kiblin strained to think of how he could have displeased his new masters so soon.

It couldn't be the blood or the goblet or the serving tray, for the vampire hadn't even glanced at them. The trembling house elf turned his gaze towards his other two masters. Perhaps the vampire's dark nature had simply been too sorely tested by the nearness of powerful wizard blood, and had finally snapped once he was locked away in the suite, away from the tempting sustenance? However, the other two masters stood in the furthest corner, glaring at him with hatred and even a touch of fear, mumbling to themselves about glory. Perhaps it had all been a trap, an evil attempt to do... something... to the school, for the glory of the Death Eaters! Yes, that was it! Perhaps they'd thought he was Dobby, or that they could use him to get to Dobby, whom everyone knew was the single personal house elf to the great Lord Harry Potter himself! Ever since Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters had been eager for revenge.

Just as Kiblin was preparing himself to appear in Dumbledore's office and warn him of his guests' treachery, the door to the sitting room opened. It was the werewolves! Although they were dark creatures themselves, Kiblin and the other house elves had been assured that masters Lupin and Osbourne were trustworthy and good. Kiblin seized upon this lucky opportunity, eager to enlist aid in detaining the criminals while he warned the Headmaster.

“Master Lupin! Master Osbourne! The muggles and the vampire is evil and plotting to capture Harry Potter! They must not be let to escape!” Kiblin cried desperately, causing looks of shock to appear on their faces. Of course they would be surprised to learn of such perfidy from the guests, but he must not let their surprise overcome them, lest the loathsome servants of the vanquished Dark Lord get away. “Bind them, quickly, with many ropes! And you may bite them, hard and vicious bites for hurting them and making them unable to be escaping from the castle!”

But the werewolves remained frozen and unmoving, and Kiblin's heart was distraught, wondering if it was some strange magic that muggles had and wizards knew nothing of, some ensnaring power that the muggles or the vampire had used to disable the werewolves and prevent them from helping him. Kiblin turned in horror to see if they would ensnare him next, using this mysterious power to prevent him from warning the Headmaster. To his surprise, they looked just as frozen and disbelieving as masters Lupin and Osbourne did.

They just stared at each other for a moment: the treacherous guests with shock and confusion at his sudden outburst, Kiblin with dread and resignation that he would be unable to warn and save Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Then the dark haired muggle blinked rapidly, and shook his head as if throwing off a dream or hex.

“Wait, what?” the muggle said.

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Chapter 6: Chapter 6 - Introductions

Title: And Hijinks Ensued – Chapter 6 - Introductions

Subtitle: Why Spike Lost His Mind, and Most of His Hair

Author: Xanfan & SublimatedAngel

Fandom: Crossover with Buffy/Angel and Harry Potter

Rating: MA

Pairing: multiple pairings, M/M, M/F, M/M/M

Summary: Spike and Xander take Dawn to Hogwarts for protection from Glory. As usual, trouble finds them anyway.

Spoilers: Buffy through season 5, Angel through season 2, HP no Half-Blood Prince

Warnings: Slash

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This is our first combined effort written for the express purpose of launching the new fanfic archive site The Crossroads of Fan Fiction, www.thecroff.com.

________________________________________________________________________

Previously:

They just stared at each other for a moment: the treacherous guests with shock and confusion at his sudden outburst, Kiblin with dread and resignation that he would be unable to warn and save Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Then the dark haired muggle blinked rapidly, and shook his head as if throwing off a dream or hex.

“Wait, what?” the muggle said.

******************

It was kind of humorous now, the whole house elf misunderstanding, but jeez, way to freak out a guy.

"Oz, dude, there are some things you should warn a guy about. Like the servants who look like relatives of Glory's minions," Xander said to his friend as they walked towards... somewhere. He had no idea where they were going, just that they were going to a meeting with Dumbledore and some of the staff as well as a couple of students.

"You didn't tell me that Glory's minions looked like house elves," Oz countered simply.

"I didn't know that house elves existed, so therefore, I didn’t really know what they looked like," Xander said in exasperation.

Oz smirked. Xander caught it and sighed. "I hate when you use the whole Zen thing to frustrate and confuse me."

"No you don't," Oz said with a small grin.

Xander rolled his eyes, admitting to himself that Oz's quirky sense of humor worked well with the calm exterior and dry delivery of his teasing. It was one of the things that he enjoyed about talking with his friend, trying to figure out when Oz was being serious and when he was yanking his chain. "The elf thingy, he's not going to get in trouble for his over-reaction to our over-reaction, is he?"

"Of course not,” Remus assured, coming up behind them. “He was just being protective. He might be teased about it by the other house elves, but he won't be punished or anything of the sort.”

"Good," Xander said in relief. It was hard not to feel sorry for the little guy and his assortment of mismatched clothing. Once they'd been told about house elves, including how they had to be freed by being given clothing by their masters, they’d been able to look at him more objectively. And that creature had an awful lot of clothing on.

They approached a blank wall in the corridor and stopped. Xander turned to Oz in question. Oz merely raised an eyebrow in response. Remus took out his wand thingy and tapped it against the wall and muttered something under his breath. Suddenly a door appeared and they were ushered in by Remus, followed by Spike and Dawn.

Xander looked over the room’s other occupants. Dumbledore, whom they'd met, along with an older woman in a jauntily perched witch's hat and a sour looking man in black robes, whom they'd seen at the teachers’ table in the dining hall. Then there was a dark-skinned man who exuded a cop-like feel, accompanied by a woman with pink hair and humor dancing in her eyes. Lastly, there were three teenagers: a girl with big fluffy hair and a Willow-like presence about her, a boy with glasses and dark, messy hair, and lastly a taller red-haired boy with a good-natured grin on his face that Xander thought would be pretty yummy in a few years.

"Ah, there you are. I understand you had a bit of excitement earlier," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

Dawn and Xander blushed and Spike growled quietly as they were herded towards a large couch and encouraged to sit down.

"What happened?" the teenage girl asked.

"A misunderstanding, nothing more, Hermione, probably best explained after introductions are made," Dumbledore said.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore began working his way around the room with gesturesto introduce everyone. "This is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfigurations Professor. This is Severus Snape, Potions Professor. This is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Senior Auror, and next to him is Nymphadora Tonks, also an Auror. These are a few of our students - Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley."

At her introduction, Professor McGonagall nodded regally and smiled slightly, but warmly. Professor Snape merely sneered at them. Kingsley Shacklebolt inclined his head politely, if coolly. Tonks grinned merrily and waved. The teenagers smiled and waved too, but they seemed a little wary, except for Ron who grinned and waved eagerly.

"And you've met Remus Lupin and you're already acquainted with Oz, I believe," the headmaster said. "Now our guests are Spike, Dawn Summers and Xander Harris. They have come to us for shelter."

"From what?" Tonks asked.

"From a Hellgod," Dumbledore said simply.

Exclamations of "What!?!" and "Bloody Hell!?!" were shouted from various parties around the room.

"He couldn't have eased into it?" Xander muttered to Dawn.

"As many of you are aware, especially if you paid attention in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class," Dumbledore began with a significant look towards his students, "there is a place in America which is home to “Boca del Inferno,” the Hellmouth. As you are also aware, there are a group of muggles who protect the town the Hellmouth resides in and routinely keeps the mouth of hell from being opened."

The others nodded while Xander, Spike and Dawn stared with open mouths. People knew?

"As you are also aware, no member of Wizarding community goes near the area because the Boca del Inferno warps our magic and makes it either work incorrectly or not at all. Even Dark Wizards will not approach the Hellmouth due to the drain it puts on our energies. Our three guests, friends of Mr. Osborne's, are part of the core group of people who protect the world by protecting the Hellmouth. Miss Summers' sister is the current Slayer. As such, she has drawn the attention of a Hellgod named Glorificus. Because our school is well shielded and warded, Miss Summers was sent here, with these two gentlemen as her protectors and chaperones, to keep her safe until such time as Glorificus has been dealt with in a permanent manner," Dumbledore explained.

Everyone stared at them in awe.

Dumbledore continued before anyone could interrupt with questions. "Now, let me explain who we are to our guests. We've recently defeated an enemy of our own, Voldemort, who believed that muggles and muggleborn Witches and Wizards were inferior and should therefore be wiped from the earth. There was a prophesy," Dumbledore ignored Xander's snort at the word and continued, "stating the young Mr. Potter would be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. Because of this, Mr. Potter was targeted by Voldemort and his followers. With the steady support of his friends and the assistance of the people in this room, including your Mr. Osborne, Harry defeated Voldemort and largely ended an almost thirty year war."

Xander and Dawn looked at the teenagers and smiled sadly when Harry just ducked his head. They understood being thrust into a war you did not start because of circumstances you could not control.

"While we have defeated the Dark Lord, there are still followers of his that believe in his tenets and seek his power for their own. While the War is over, there are still small skirmishes to be fought. I believe that we may need a different perspective on how to bring a true end to this. As you have experiences with both large battles and small skirmishes, I would ask for any assistance and advice you would care to give us on this matter. I am not asking you to fight by any means, that is not what you are here for. I have, however, noted that some of your battles have been quite well planned and we could always use strategic assistance," Dumbledore asked, surprising all the occupants of the room.

Dawn, Xander and Spike looked at each other and nodded. Harry's burden reminded them of Buffy and the responsibility that had been placed on her shoulders at such a young age, a responsibility she could not shed in this lifetime. But if they helped, maybe Harry could shed his, once and for all. It would be an homage to their friend, sister, and unrequited obsession.

"We would love to help anyway we can. And we really do appreciate being offered sanctuary here. Dawnie is very special to us all and we can't let Glory get her hands on our girl," Xander said, speaking for the group.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Now then, we don't need to dive into things tonight. Let us some time to think about what we've learned today. In fact, I believe this is a Hogsmeade weekend, yes? Perhaps Xander and Dawn would find that interesting. Hermione, Harry, Ron, why don’t you escort Xander and Dawn back to their rooms and tell them about Hogsmeade, see if they would like to accompany you tomorrow?"

Xander and Dawn let themselves be led off to hear about the pig thing, refusing to look at Spike's death glares, damning them for leaving him alone with these, these... adults.

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