Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Not All Snakes Speak Parseltongue

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: Dumbledore finally buys a clue and realizes that the Order just *might* need some outside assistance.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > GeneralGreywizardFR1811,8791228,06327 Aug 0727 Aug 07Yes
Rating: Adult. Primarily for themes of death, vengeance, torture, revenge killings and various other ideas that Mr. Rogers wouldn't be found discussing in his neighborhood.

Disclaimer: All of the really good characters belong to Joss Whedon, J. K. Rowling or John Carpenter; I'm just borrowing them characters for a while. Any other characters that might show up that you might recognize don't belong to me either, but to their respective owners. There is no intent to profit from this. Only the story is mine.

Category: Multiple crossovers.

Summary: Dumbledore finally buys a clue and realizes that the Order just *might* need some outside assistance.

Time frame: All of the timelines have been shifted slightly in order to mesh a little better than they would have, if I had stayed with canon. For the Buffy characters, it takes place about seven years after ‘Chosen’; for Harry Potter, it’s prior to ‘Harry Potter and Order of the Phoenix’; and for Snake it's some indeterminate time before the first movie.

Character Bashing: None. Really. Well, at least, not in my opinion. ;-)

Feedback: Of course! Constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated. Flamers will be added to the lists of those to be painfully exterminated, once I am appointed to my rightful position as King of the World. (Yeah, you wait and see if I’m kidding. Dogbert had nothing on me!)

Author’s note: Thanks to Lori Bush, Tim Joy, Bill Haden and Drake the Archr for beta-ing this story.


The old man walking into the bar immediately attracted attention, since the gangster pin-striped suit, including spats and a fedora, that he was wearing had probably gone out of fashion back around 1925 or thereabouts. His somewhat unkempt, waist-length grey beard also did absolutely nothing to help him blend into the crowd, which was really saying something, since one of the patrons seemed to shop at the same store as Huggy Bear from ‘Starsky and Hutch.’ It was the unconscious air of confidence and self-assurance he exuded, though, that put the majority of the establishment’s inhabitants on their guard, reflexively looking around for the bodyguards or companions they expected to see accompanying him.

Ignoring the interest he’d generated, the old man walked directly towards a table in the rear of the room, where a dark-haired man with an eye patch slouched alone and watched him approach with a seeming complete lack of curiosity.

Seating himself in one of the empty chairs, the old man beamed at the other with a genial smile usually worn by dotting grandfathers and scheming politicians.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. Plissken,” the old man declared with a wide smile. “My name is Albus Dumbledore.”

“Call me Snake,” Plissken replied, as he took a sip from the bottle of beer sitting on the table in front of him. “What’d you want to talk about, old man?

The air of indifference and disinterest seeming to radiate from the other man didn’t put Dumbledore off in the slightest as he answered the other’s question.

“A mutual friend, Alastor Moody, spoke very highly of your abilities to a group I’m associated with and recommended that we meet and make arrangements to secure your services. He believes that you can provide us with insights and a point of view that we’ve been, shall we say, lacking in the past.”

“If you’ve talked with Mad-Eye, you know my rates and my rules,” Snake told him. “I don’t get involved with slavery rings, drug running or with anything bad having to do with children.

“And if I find out later that anyone I’m working with is involved with that shit, I’ll kill them,” he warned in a flat voice, his single remaining eye focused on Dumbledore with an intensity the Headmaster hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“And you, too, old man, for getting me involved.”

The overt threat carried in those words seemed to pass the older man completely, as he smiled at the other and said, “Actually, I’m delighted to hear that, my boy.

“Have you ever heard of an individual calling himself Voldemort? He’s something of a fanatic, you see; especially where it concerns one of my students and a particular prophecy…”


"Okay now, be very careful and take those drums downstairs in the basement and stack them as close to the center of the house as you can get, okay? " Snake directed the Weasley twins as they carefully levitated the half-dozen fifty-five gallon steel drums of the ammonium nitrate-fuel oil mixture through the back door and into the interior of the Death Eaters’ former safe house. “Make sure you don’t jar them unnecessarily.

"If we screw this op up, there won't be enough left of all of us to pack inside a thimble."

"What's a thimble?" Fred questioned his twin in a low voice as he painstakingly directed the floating barrels down the cramped stairway as ordered.

"I'm not sure," George replied in an equally muted tone. "I think it's some kind of muggle musical device that looks like two big metal plates, that they bang together to make noise."

"If that's so, then why would they want to pack anything inside one?"

"I have no idea," George shrugged his ignorance as he helped steer the barrels around the base of the stairs. "Ask Snake. He's the one who mentioned it."

As they worked, both Snake and the Twins ignored the approximately dozen bodies that were stacked like cordwood off to one side of the fireplace that dominated the far side of the living room, but Tonks and Hestia Jones gasped in surprise as they followed the trio into the house, each of them paling and turning very unflattering shades of grey upon first catching sight of the badly torn-up corpses.

"Merlin! Who or what's responsible for that?" the pink-haired witch exclaimed in wide-eyed surprise.

As an Auror, Tonks had seen her share of dead bodies before, but never this many together at one time, or in quite such a – messy – condition. Neither woman could figure out exactly what kind of spell or magical device had been used on the currently starting-to-rot Death Eaters, since most of the bodies in question had small holes either in their foreheads or between their eyes and were missing most of the backs of their skulls.

“Things got a little rowdy when we stopped by to pick up the kids,” Snake shrugged indifferently as he passed them while carefully unrolling wires from a spool as he followed the twins down the basement stairway. "And I got kinda – fractious, once I saw how they'd been treating the boys."

“The only spell residue I can find is on those four bodies,” Hestia noted quietly in an aside to Tonks as she pointed to the corpses piled up to the left of the fireplace. “And since it was just the Twins and this Snake fellow who rescued the children –“

“Something you might want to keep in mind for future operations is that Protego shields aren’t worth squat when it comes to stopping anything over .380 calibre,” Snake casually informed the two witches, making them jump with surprise and instinctively point their wands at him. Both Aurors were equally dismayed at the ease and the matter-of-fact manner with which he knocked each of their arms towards the ceiling, redirecting the stunners they’d thrown at him. “That’s one reason I like my 10 mm Autos.”

“And you two need to finish checking out the house for anything these morons might have been storing here,” he informed them, ignoring the reflexive attacks and picking up the muggle duffle bag he’s dropped by the back door when he’d entered.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he noted as he began rifling through the bag and pulling out various unrecognizable muggle paraphernalia.

“After that, the only thing left of this place is gonna be the ash and dust floating in the air.”


“It’s so good to see you again,” Hermione exclaimed happily as she threw her arms around the redheaded witch as she stepped out of the Grimmauld Place fireplace.

“There’s been ever so much happening since you left, and I can’t wait for you to meet the latest recruit that Professor Dumbledore had brought into the Order,” she informed her girlfriend as she hugged her tightly while they moved out of the way of the other travelers following the redhead through the floo network.

“He’s one of the strangest people I’ve ever met, and Harry and Ron think so, too, and we’ve all noticed several unusual things,” she declared animatedly, as she pulled back slightly to give the other witch a rundown of the newcomer’s oddities, not giving her the smallest chance to get a word in, edgewise. Hermione noticed the amused grins her girlfriend’s companions were giving her as she provided her lover with an update of everything that had happened in the two weeks since her departure, but she ignored them in order to focus on her beloved more fully.

“For one thing, it appears that he can always recognize who a person actually is, and he isn’t fooled by any type of illusion magic or charms, either, and from what I’ve heard Mad-Eye saying, he also managed to throw off the Imperio curse the first time it was cast on him, and then gutted the Death Eater who was trying to control him,” the brunette jabbered away, focusing on what she considered the most intriguing aspects of the mercenary’s personality.

“And he won’t say anything at all about where or when he learned about magic,” she went on excitedly, taking only the barest moment to catch her breath. “He just completely ignores any questions that anyone might ask him about those subjects.

“And then I heard Professor McGonagall talking with Professor Lupin and Charlie Weasley about him yesterday when I took a break from the research Professor Dumbledore asked me to do for him, and they were all laughing about the fact that the first and only time Professor Snape tried to use Legilimency on him, Snape was repulsed and thrown out of Mr. Plissken’s mind so vigorously that he was unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours afterwards! And later, when Charlie asked him about what had happened, all Professor Snape would do was shiver and say that Plissken made Lupin look like a friendly little puppy by comparison!

“So, based on that, they all believe that he’s most likely a squib who left the Wizarding World to make his way in the muggle world and who’s been quite successful in doing so, and –“

Anything further Hermione might have said was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of the individual currently under discussion as he stepped out of the fireplace, directly behind the newest arrivals.

Seeing the somewhat intimidating, unshaven and leather-clad man looming behind them and feeling somewhat embarrassed at his unexpected appearance while she had been speaking about him, Hermione hurriedly began introductions.

“Uhm, ah, Mr. Plissken, these are some of the Order’s other allies,” she spluttered for a moment as she indicated the other people standing by her, “from the Reformed Slayers and Watchers Council.

“This is my friend, Willow Rosenberg,” she introduced the redhead, before being interrupted before she could say anything more.

“Hey, Wills,” Plissken nonchalantly nodded at the gaping redhead, before turning to give an equally measured acknowledgement to the equally stunned blonde and brunette standing in front of him.

“Hi, Buff. Hey, Dawn,” he greeted the other two women.

“Xander?” Buffy finally managed to get out in a disbelieving voice.

“We thought you were dead,“ Willow said, still apparently unable to believe her rapidly tearing eyes.

“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” he replied, a moment before he was overwhelmed by a trio of incoherently babbling women, while Hermione and the other Order members present watched with incomprehension.



I want to note that the idea of Xander as Snake Plissken was inspired by the story “Call Me” by Paradox761, which he’s given me permission to reference, and for which I thank him greatly.

You can find the story at and at his own website:

The End

You have reached the end of "Not All Snakes Speak Parseltongue". This story is complete.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking