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Summary: Unusual circumstances lead to Xander meeting his cousin. Continuation of another author's idea. details inside.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > GeneralIrnBruOrDeathFR1832,8370459,5314 Feb 0923 Apr 09No

To See If There's a Pub!


Ok folks. This is my attempt at continuing MarieJayn’s idea. For the starter chapter go to This is merely my humble attempt to carry on the story.

Summary: Unusual circumstances lead to Xander meeting his cousin.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters (save for Thorn) they are the property of Joss Whedon and JK Rowling. I’m just borrowing them. The original story concept belongs solely to MarieJayn.


Chapter 1: To See If There’s a Pub!



“Ok Harry. First we’ll go get my girls, then we’ve got some serious shopping to do.” Xander said while grinning reassuringly into the solemn face of the two year old.

“Girls?” The boy asked shyly. He liked his Xander, he was scary looking like his Snape. He’d keep the bad things away too.

“Yup. Dawnie and Thorn are waiting for us, well me, at the hole in my Bucket bar.”

“I believe you mean the Leaky Cauldron Mr. Harris.” Dumbledore interjected warmly.

Xander scowled at the old man who had used his cousin as an instrument of war and now that he didn’t need the poor kid anymore was doing his damndest to get rid of him. And with the eye patch and two years facing the worst and darkest things that Africa could throw at him swimming in his surviving eye, there was plenty of menace behind it.

“Here’s an idea man, you don’t talk to me ever again!” He growled before hitching Harry onto his hip. Purely unintentionally holding the child in a way that would make it easy to both shelter him and left Xander easy access to most of his weaponry. “Alright Harry my man, papers are signed and we are outta here!”

And with that, one of the most dangerous Muggles in existence stalked from the room. A tiny hand waving over one broad shoulder the last most of those in the room would see of the saviour of the Wizarding World. Snape spared a gimlet glance around the shocked faces, before turning and billowing out after the pair.

“Mr. Harris.” Snape sneered as he caught up with the Muggle. “May I have a moment of your time?” Xander’s strides never shortened but he spared a curious glance for the dark man keeping pace beside him.

“Yeah. What? Look, if you’re here to hassle me about keeping Harry in England after all the shit your lot-”

“Not at all Mr. Harris. I merely wished to enquire as to your plans in regards to tutoring Mr. Potter when his magical abilities become nascent.”

“Say Huh?”

“*sigh* How do you plan to teach the boy magic when he’s older?”

“Dude! Why didn’t you just say so?” Xander asked. He had to work to repress a snicker as the elder man pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t contain a smirk however when he heard the giggle being muffled against his Harry draped shoulder. “Man, that’s what Willows are for.”

“The WICCA?!” Snape exclaimed, his voice conveying the same tone that some Muggles would have when referring to the Taliban. “Mr. Harris-”

“Xander please. Mr. Harris was my father and a Grade A asshole!”

“hrf…Xander then. Wiccan and Wand based magics are mutually incompatible. Most times explosively so. And Mr. Potter’s magical levels are such that any attempt to teach him the Wiccan methods would be disastrous!”

“Chill man! So what? You volunteering?”

“As a matter of fact. Yes.”


Snape heaved another sigh. It would appear he would have to…share.

“I owed Mr. Potter’s mother a debt. I choose to see protecting Mr. Potter as a method of repayment that Lily would have approved of. I did not discharge this duty as I should have before Mr. Potter’s regression and would….appreciate to be allowed to endeavour to better my efforts this time around.”


“Snape.” The little voice piped catching both men’s attention even in the bustle and noise of Diagon Alley. “MY Snape!” Harry stated emphatically.

“Is that so?” Xander asked of his cousin, amused as hell by the perplexed expression now gracing the Potion Master’s face. “Look’s like you’re hired Sevbaby. Let’s go tell the girls the good news!”

“Just like that? And do NOT call me Sevbaby!”

“Hey. If you turn out to be a bad guy I’ll just kill ya.” Xander pronounced blithely

“MY Sevbaby!!” Harry chirped with a sweet smile.

“Ok little guy. No argument here.” Xander chortled. “Hey! What’s the what?”

Snape turned his gaze to where the frustrating Muggle (Definitely of the Potter genus) pointed. Up ahead a herd of witches and wizards spilled out from the Leaky Cauldron and into the alley. Their shrieks and alarm infecting the crowds of people who were still working on War tense nerves. There were garbled cries to fetch Aurors as the mob milled around in aimless eddies.

“An attack?" Severus mused sceptically. It was unlikely, while there where certainly a few scattered remnants of Voldemorts supporters loose in the world. They were indeed scattered and too disheartened and reeling after their Dark Lord’s defeat to focus any kid of significant attack. Particularly one as high profile as an attack on Diagon Alley. He shook himself from his thoughts as Harry…Xand…ALEXander strode swiftly towards the commotion. Complete with infant rendition of the Boy-Who-Lived. “Mr. Harris! Where exactly are you going?”

“Told ya already Sevbaby. I’m gonna get my girls.” Xander shot back hoisting Harry higher on his hip as he disappeared through the entrance. Leaving Snape no choice but to follow. Which he did, cursing all the way as he drew his wand, ready for anything.

Anything, that is, except for what they discovered inside. He ground to a halt next to a clearly perplexed Xander. Harry giggled and clapped his little hands in delight at the new game his Xan and Sevbaby had brought him to.

The quintessential old English Pub had been rendered a complete shambles. Broken chairs, shattered glass and crockery and overturned tables littered the floor with indeterminate liquids and food stuffs splattered over everything. And swirling like a cerulean twister above it all, their iridescent wings beating a buzzing roar into the air, was what appeared to be at least two or three swarms of Cornish Pixies.

“Fuck we gonna do now?” A husky alto drew the men’s attention to the left where two young women crouched behind one of the toppled tables.

“I don’t know!” The brunette protested as she tucked a strand of her long hair behind an ear. China blue eyes were focused warily on the buzzing swarm. “Can’t you kill them?”

The sandy blonde head to her left turned, and a scarred brow arched over a scornful gaze that was a blue as vivid as Potter’s Avada Green eyes. While her companion was crouched nervously peeking over the table edge at the creatures, she was sat almost indolently with her back resting against the table a silver Zippo twirling between her fingers.

“How exactly?” She drawled, dripping scorn. “As the Wannabe Watcher I’d think you were the one to be comin’ up with the plans. A spell or something.”

“Ok. FINE!” The brunette snarled before leaping to her feet and pointing an imperious finger at the swarm. “I don’t believe in Fairies!”

The whole room seemed to stop, even the swarm seemed to be pausing to stare, incredulous at the words the girl had uttered. And then chaos returned. One of the pixies darted forward and sunk it’s sharp little teeth into the pointed finger. Two more followed behind and tangled themselves into her long hair.

“Oh my GOD!” The girl shrieked, all traces of composure gone as she hopped from foot to foot. “In my Hair. Getthemoutgetthemout! Oh GOD!!”

“Oh. Fer Fucks SAKE!” The blonde snarled before gaining her own feet. Though instead of going to aid her companion she stomped in the direction of the bar. Obviously in a thorough temper she continued to curse loudly as she stomped forward. “All I fucking wanted was a decent pint! I’ve been puttin’ up with watered down American donkey piss masquerading as beer for sod knows how long. An’ the first chance I get some Tit-wank Fucktard pulls this shite!” She continued ranting along a similar vein as she snatched nearby pixies from the air and throwing them under her scuffed biker boots. Grinding them into a blue mulch with each step.

When she reached the bar she grasped one more unfortunate pixie by a spindly leg and slapped the tiny little body into the wood repeatedly. Eliciting squeaks and popping cracking noises. “Fuck fuck fuckittyfuck tit arse BASTARD!!!” Tossing the crumpled body with no more care than she would show for an empty sweetie wrapper. She grabbed a bottle of Ogden’s Finest from behind the bar. Taking a long draw of the alcohol as she turned towards the main body of the chittering swarm as it weaved and snapped around the rafters like some demented shoal of mutant fish.

With a smooth motion that spoke of long practice the Zippo was flicked open against a denim clad hip and sparked alight as it was raised in front of her pursed lips. With a forceful exhalation a gout of flame shot into the heart of the swarm inducing a veritable shower of burning wee bodies falling to the floor. A repetition yielded yet more, but didn’t even half the pixies numbers.

Severus finally pulled himself from his shock induced stupor as the brunette ran shrieking past him, trailing pixies chittering in fiendish glee, save for the one still attached to her by it’s teeth. He raised his wand preparing to cast Immobulus.

“Bombarda Shrapnus!” A commanding voice broke onto the scene from behind him. Instantly every Pixie in the room, including the ones writhing in little flaming balls on the floor, exploded into a fine mist. Showering the room, and the girls, in pale blue.

“EEEEEEWWWWWW!” The brunette squealed. “I had my mouth open!”

The former blonde, now a greeny blue, sneered at the other before snapping the lighter shut and taking a swallow from her former weapon of choice.

“Lo Xan Luv.” she drawled. “Whose the bird with the pimp stick?”

“I do beg your pardon!” Lucius Malfoy sneered back as he moved shoulder to shoulder with Snape and Xander.

“Sorry Pet.” The blonde returned. Clearly anything but. “Twas the dress what put me off.”

“I’ll have you know, you little guttersnipe, “ Lucius growled as a elegant gloved hand indicated the Croesus-level-of-expense couture. “That THESE are robes!”

“Whatever you say Girly Man!”

The scene seemed to pause as each took stock of the other. Until Harry piped:

“Pretty man mine?”
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