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Summary: The hellmouth has been sealed and Sunnydale destroyed. The problem is, the surprises are not yet finished. Unknown to the Sunnydale crew, a Wizard has been sent to discover the source of the sudden increase in dark energies surrounding-- (more inside)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Xander-Centered > Theme: Real FamilyKiristeenFR131459,4931334298,1239 Sep 0922 Aug 10No


Title: Lost Legacy
Author: Kiristeen ke Alaya
Series: Not so far
Genre: Xover BtVS/Harry Potter
Codes: General no pairing (except canon) at this point. AU of AtS as of Spike's appearance there. AU beyond HP book five.
Characters Main: Snape, Xander and misc.
Rating: PG-13 (no violence or sexual references beyond that of either series.)
Warnings: References to child abuse. Work In Progress. I've only finished the rough draft through Chapter 6, so this will be slower going than the recent fics I've been posting.

Setting: I am invoking artistic license with the timing of this story. It begins the summer before the trio's 7th year, and directly after Buffy and the gang seal the hellmouth, destroying Sunnydale. I've also taken a tiny liberty with Dawn, capitalizing on her 'energy' as the key. Don't worry, it's nothing massive, just a logical progression, IMHO. I've given her the ability to sense injuries.

Summary: The hellmouth has been sealed and Sunnydale destroyed. The problem is, the surprises are not yet finished. Unknown to the Sunnydale crew, a Wizard has been sent to discover the source of the sudden increase in dark energies surrounding the mystical convergence. One Severus Snape arrives in time to discover no town, and no convergence. Instead, he finds a makeshift camp of youths, barely into adulthood.

Having needed to travel the last 250 miles in muggle fashion -- no wizarding forms of travel available closer -- Snape arrives in what was once Sunnydale . . . 'in a mood'. In true Snapish fashion, the Potions Master manages to not only insult everyone present, but find something he didn't even know he was missing -- turning his life permanently upside down. Absolutely furious, Snape wonders if the manipulative old goat knew all along what he would find.

Disclaimer: Neither Buffy the Vampire Slayer universe, nor Harry Potter belong to me in any way, shape, or form. Both Series belong to their respective authors/producers (Joss Whedon and JK Rowling) and their respective publishers, heirs, and other assigned rights holders. I intend no copyright infringement and will not make any money with this story. It has entertainment value solely.

AN: No one can accuse Albus Dumbledore of not knowing how to manipulate those around him. I don't know if it's ever been said what house Dumbledore was/is a member of, but if he wasn't so partial to Gryffindors, my money would go on Slytherin. : )~

Chapter One

Severus Snape stared at the huge crater that sat where the infernal map said Sunnydale was supposed to be, anger and fear alternating inside him. If Albus Dumbledore could make this big a mistake, maybe the naysayers were right, and the old man was losing his touch. It wasn't a thought that sat well; it boded ill for the side of good, and Severus' own life expectancy. He'd long since thrown in with the old man and his Order of the Pheonix and didn't think he'd stood a snowball's chance in the ninth plane of hell of surviving this conflict if the light side didn't win. Of course, he wasn't all too certain he'd survive it, even if they did.

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, was the cornerstone of the fight against Voldemort. His sometimes humbling ability to see practically everything, to seem to know a person's thoughts before they did, was one of their greatest assets. If he was losing that edge. . . .

To say Severus wasn't happy was an understatement of unbelievable proportions. Not only did this entire trip seem to have been a complete waste of time, but he'd spent the last 250 miles traveling the slow, muggle way. Add to that, the car he'd charmed to drive here, had run out of fuel 5 miles back and he'd had to walk the last bit. He was tired, sore, and fit to be tied.

"So where's this bloody 'mystical convergence'?" Severus snapped angrily, not wanting to believe his errant thoughts, but unable to deny the evidence before him.

"Permanently sealed," replied a feminine voice behind him.

Severus whirled around, his hand automatically reaching for his wand. He hadn't even heard her approach. Unfortunately, he didn't have the chance to wield it. Three-quarters of the way into his spin, he was thrown to the ground. He landed painfully, a startled, 'oomph' pressed out of him.

Ignoring the signals of pain his body was sending him -- he'd gotten very good at that over the years -- Severus immediate began reaching for his wand again. This time he got it out, only to have it kicked out of his hand as he was bringing it up. He watched it fly into the growing darkness with a sigh of regret, and a certainty that his hand had been broken.

Okay, so I have to do this the hard way.

He launched himself to his feet, only to discover his attacker was a tiny blonde woman, barely. Incredulity coursing through him, Severus ducked her next attack, scrambling backward. He had no desire to fight a muggle woman half his size. It would be a massacre.

"Why are you attacking me!?" he roared angrily, dodging a second blow. Damn, she's fast!

"You started it," she replied off-handedly, shrugging as she whirled ending the spin with a roundhouse kick.

He ducked again, this time rolling and coming back up on her other side. Unfortunately, she seemed to have anticipated that move and as he regained his feet, her foot caught him solidly in his abdomen. The wind utterly knocked out of him, he was shocked to find himself sailing backwards, not hitting the ground for a good eight meters.

Straining to pull in breath, Severus struggled to regain his feet as the blonde approached.

"Stay down, dumb-ass," she said, sounding like he did when he was speaking to a particularly slow student.

He glared at her angrily, hatred flashing in his eyes. Unfortunately, with her standing in battle stance over him, and him unable to catch his breath -- He winced, thinking she might have actually broken a couple of his ribs -- he didn't have much choice but to do as he was told. If she moved just a little bit closer, however, it would be a different matter entirely, his ribs notwithstanding.

"What kind of weapon were you reaching for?" she demanded, watching him carefully in the waning light.

Ever mindful of the need to keep the knowledge of the wizarding world and magic from the common muggle, Severus formed his answer carefully. "I wasn't actually reaching for a weapon," he replied, trying to keep his answer civil. It wasn't easy. He hadn't had much practice with true civility for years. Severus Snape was not civil.

"Buffy!" a second female shouted. "I found it. It's a wand of some kind."

Severus flinched. Bloody hell! "I Found that in a curio shop in Los Angelus," he lied quickly. "Thought it was . . . amusing."

A red-headed young woman approached, a rather severe frown marring her features. He used the term woman loosely, as the Weasley look alike didn't appear to much older than a 7th year. "You didn't get this in any curio shop," she denied. "It has power, Buffy," she told the blonde, turning to face the petite girl. "I would need time to figure out exactly what it does, though."


Shock surged through Severus. Did these people know about magic, or was she talking about something else entirely? His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he tried to figure out which lie to tell, and just how much of the truth might be safe to reveal.

Buffy nodded, without taking her stern glare off him. "Listen up, Mister Tall and Dark, you can go back and tell whoever it is you're working for that the hellmouth is gone, permanently. If you're here to cause trouble on your own, you've just wasted a trip. As you can see, there's nothing left."

Severus sneered right back at the snotty brat. "Not that it's any of your concern," he snarled, "but I'm here to investigate, not cause trouble."

Buffy took a menacing step forward, her expression dark, boding trouble for any who dared cross her.

Severus had to fight a laugh. He in no way felt threatened by the impertinant chit.

Right, and that's why you're still on the ground; because you don't, in any way, respect her skills.

"It damn well is my concern, since this was my town." The crazy bint grinned then, without completely losing the wary look in her eyes. "But, if you're not here to cause trouble, you're welcome to share our fire tonight."

Surprised, he didn't respond immediately. He carefully weighed the pros and cons of the situation. These girls, apparently, knew what had happened here . . . at least, that's what they implied. If he accepted their offer, he might be able to find out. "Very well," he replied evenly, "I accept," artfully adding unnecessary information. "I certainly wasn't looking forward to traveling back tonight."

There, he thought, that was civil enough for anyone.

Buffy stepped forward and held out her hand, obviously intending to help him stand. Arching an eyebrow, he diplomatically reached up and grabbed hold of her wrist, fully intending on doing most of the work himself--

See, Albus! I can be diplomatic when the situation warrants it.

--and was unutterably surprised when she pulled him to his feet with shocking ease. Damn, but the chit was strong!

He made no comment, instead, turning to the red-head. "May I have that back?" he asked, pointing toward the wand she still held.

"No," he got back in harmonic duplicate.

"Why?" he asked, sending his best, 7th year quelling glare at the obstinate red-head.

The blonde -- Buffy, he reminded himself -- answered.

"Because we don't know you, don't know what that wand does, and have absolutely no reason to trust you," she said flatly, and with finality.

He ground his teeth together in frustration. He really didn't like being without his wand. His wandless magic was limited at best. It didn't help his mood any that he completely understood her reasoning, and consequently, had absolutely no legitimate argument against their continued possession of his wand. He sure as hell wouldn't have given what was, to all intents and purposes, a weapon back to someone he'd just met and actively suspected of underhanded motives -- particularly if he was worried about being able to defend himself.

Finally, he simply nodded in acknowledgement. "I assume, I will get it back when we part company?"

Buffy nodded and waved him passed her, presumably in the direction she wanted him to walk.

He loathed the idea of having her, them, at his back where he couldn't keep an eye on them, but again, he couldn't blame the two girls. He would have done the same in their position. At least he was dealing with muggles, even if one of them seemed freakishly strong. He wouldn't let them get the jump on him again, and without that element of surprise, doubted they could get the better of him a second time.

As soon as he saw the light of the camp fire, he knew he'd made a strategic mistake. He just hoped it wouldn't be a painful or fatal one. Several other people gathered around the warmth of the fire; though, why they bothered in this miserable heat was beyond him. They all rose as the three of them came out of the darkness.

Buffy quickened her pace until she walked next to him. "And who do I introduce you as?"

In the split second before he responded, he debated which way to answer, with the more familiar Severus Snape, or with the more formal, "Professor Snape," he said before he fully realized he'd made a decision. Judging by the red-head's response. He'd made the right choice.

"You're a professor?" she asked, grinning in apparent excitement. "What do you teach?"

Somewhat surprised by her . . . enthusiastic response, he turned to her slowly, scowering his mind for the nearest muggle equivalent to potions. "Chemistry," he replied, the moment he remembered.

"Really?" she asked, actually bouncing as she walked. "What levels?"

Levels? Severus blinked. While he knew the basics of the English and Scottish muggle educational system, all he knew of the American one, was that it was structured differently. He thought frantically for an approriate reply, then, nearly rolled his eyes. It should be obvious even to morons that he was not an American. He didn't need to know their system. "All 7 levels of secondary education." That was close enough, anyway. He serious doubted that barely out of their teens, children, would know enough about foreign education to call him on it.

By that time, they were at the fire and the three of them had at least a dozen eyes focused on them, effectively ending the conversation. One set, disturbed him, however. An older man, if he was any judge of muggle ages -- older than he was, at any rate -- watched him far more warily than the rest. The man's expression held a touch of hostility as well. Why? he wondered, automatically keeping close watch on his surroundings.

"He says he's Professor Snape," Buffy announced.

Says? he thought, insulted at the implication he may have lied about his name. He'd never met a more suspicious group of teenagers -- okay, young adults at a stretch -- in his life. He did note, though, that the older man's wariness deepened sharply at her words. Severus' curiosity about the sandy blond increased. Who was the man and why did his name seem to spark something?

"Professor, these are, in order," she began, then quickly sounded off the names of everyone present.

He almost snorted. He had a good memory, but with the speed she'd rattled everyone's names off, there was no way he was going to remember them all. Giles, however, he would remember. The man stayed standing, even after the others resumed their seats. He would remember Xander's name too. The boy had given him such an odd -- one eyed -- look, before quickly looking away when realizing he'd been seen.

"Have we met, Mr. Giles?" he asked, as politely as his irritation would allow; for now, ignoring the Xander mystery.

The man shook his head, squaring his glasses with his left hand. "I have to ask," he spoke softly, with a surprising, but definite, upperclass English accent, "what an English Wizard is doing at a hellmouth on the west coast of the United States?"

Abruptly, Severus' irritation blossomed into full anger. The moron obviously didn't give a rat's arse for the statute of secrecy! "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he demanded, shouting in his agitation. He took an immediate step back, arms raised in the universal gesture of surrender as no sooner were the words out of his mouth, but every single one of the brats was on their feet, weapon in hand and trained on him. And an odder assortment of weapons he'd never seen outside of a museum. Didn't modern muggles prefer things like guns and knives?

He blinked, reassessing the group. Okay, not children, no matter their age. They acted like a team of battle hardened aurors. If things didn't go his way, he just might be thoroughly screwed. He was mentally cursing himself up one side and down the other, neatly picturing Mad-eye's disappointed headshake as he muttered the oft-repeated phrase, "constant vigilance." He'd made assumptions when he definitely shouldn't have. He just hoped the price for those assumptions wouldn't be higher than he wanted to pay.

"I won't ask again," Giles said softly, his voice as menacing as Severus had ever made his own.

"My . . . apologies," he ground out, "I am so used to having to keep what I am secret, that I reacted . . . inappropriately."

Inappropriate, when surrounded by your friends, whom seem imminently capable of inflicting grievous bodily harm, that is.

"Accepted," he growled, not sounding to Severus as if he had at all, "That does not answer my question, however."

No, it didn't, Severus thought, sarcasm heavy in his mind voice, so kind of you to notice. As for himself, he keenly noted that the two of them had the full attention of every single person present. He didn't like being the center of attention, didn't like it one bit. Xander, he also noted, was still staring at him, more so than any of the others. Again, he let it go, having other, more pressing, issues to deal with.

"The massively increased energy of the, supposed, mystical convergence here was noted," he said, carefully phrasing his words and modulating his tone to give no clue as to whether he considered the suspicious absence of said convergence a good thing, or a bad thing. "I was sent to investigate."

Buffy opened her mouth, but Mr. Bloody Giles beat her to it. He clapped slowly, smirking.

Severus frowned, his eyes narrowing yet again.

"Very nicely phrased, Professor," he commended, continuing silkily, "technically answering my question without giving a sodding thing away."

"And Ripper's back," Severus heard Xander mutter. He spared a minute portion of attention to the dark-haired boy, but was distracted by the content of his words.

Ripper? he repeated mentally, the name sounding vaguely familiar. The knowledge he sought hang tantalizingly just out of reach, however, frustrating him no end. Whoever he was, judging by what Severus had seen so far, the man -- if he'd been a wizard -- would have fit in Slytherin House admirably. Unfortunately, that was a problem right now, not a help.

"Okay," Buffy interrupted, glaring alternately at him and Giles, "each of you back off into your testosterone filled corners and just cool it for now," she ordered, physically emphasising her point by taking hold of his arm, just above his elbow.

Giles rolled his eyes, but relented, his glare softening a touch. "We will speak again," he warned.

Severus nodded once, then allowed the tiny, forceful chit to propel him forward to a seat near the fire, not bothering to glare at her for her presumption.

"Dawn?" she called out.

"Yeah, Buffy?"

Dark hair, younger, 5th or 6th year, he estimated.

"I think his ribs are injured; his hand too."

Dawn jumped up instantly, heading for the long vehicle parked just outside the range of the fire's light. It didn't take long before the girl came jogging back carrying a small canvess bag.

"Okay," she said, smiling at him as she sat on the edge of the same log he was sitting on, "hand first."

He frowned at her even as he held out his injured hand. She couldn't possibly be old enough to be their mediwitch . . . or whatever the muggles called their equivalent. Placing both of her hands gently around his hand and wrist, she closed her eyes.

He almost pulled his hand back in disgust, but she spoke first, her words surprising him into stillness.

"Not broken, but you have a hairline fracture in one of the bones in the center of your palm. We'll need to immobilize it," she said softly as she reached back into the bag with one hand.

She's a witch? That didn't seem right, but he didn't know what else she could be. The problem was, he'd never seen Poppy do anything remotely similar. "How did you know?" he asked, his curiosity at something completely new overriding his normal reticence.

She shrugged, continuing pulling items out. "Just something I can do," she said, one-handedly opening a double-fist sized, white jar. Scooping a walnut sized portion of the white, creamy paste, she glanced up at him, before beginning to coat both his palm and the back of his hand. "This will keep down the swelling while your hand heals," she explained.

It tingled pleasantly even as soothing cool spread throughout his injured hand. He nodded, continuing to watch as she opened a second jar, about twice the size of the first, this one brown in color. She scooped out about half the amount she had of the other medicant, carefully splitting it as before, and spreading it just as carefully.

"And this?" he asked, just as he began to feel its affects. "Pain reliever," he continued, as the surface of his hand began going numb, answering his own question.

She nodded, not looking up. Instead she proceeded to wrap his hand in a stretching bandage that fascinated him. The support and pressure it provided obvious.

"The first is magical, this second isn't. We raided a pharmacy for it."

Though Severus had never heard the term before, in context, he had to assume it referred to either an apothocary, or some sort of medical supply outlet. "The two actually work together?" he asked, intensely curious.

She nodded again, this time looking up at him, setting his hand gently onto his knee. "We've used them together before with no ill effects, if that's what you're asking."

"Basically," he admitted. It was close enough in intent, anyhow.

"The only danger wouldn't be from the drug interactions. The only problems that might arise would be if you were allergic to any of the ingred--" Her eyes widened in horror. "Shit! I should have asked that first. Sorry, I'm used to working with people I already know. Are you allergic to anything?"

He chuckled, even as he sneered at the obvious mistake. "It's a good thing I can say I've only found one thing that I am allergic to. I think I can safely say that there won't be any essence of wormwart in either preparation?"

She laughed, then, relieved. "You'd be right. I've never even heard of it."

Reassured, he lifted his hand to look more closely at the wrapping. "Interesting mixture of magical and muggle healing techniques," he said softly, impressed despite himself. Lacking direct healing spells, this certainly worked.

"Muggle?" Dawn asked.

Severus' head snapped up to stare at her, then he whipped around -- instantly regretting the quick movement as his ribs had yet to be attended to -- to glare at the Giles character. The blasted man was smirking knowingly.

Giles shrugged. "They've learned what they need to know, not everything." He then turned to Dawn. "Muggle is term wand wizards and witches use to refer to those who do not have magical ability," he explained.

"Wand witches?" Willow -- the red-head asked.

It was then that Severus realized how he had remained the main focus of this group. He frowned, not sure quite when he'd stopped being aware of that small fact. It wasn't like him to tune out his environment like that. Of course, now that he had 'tuned back in', Xander quickly looked away. He'd been studying him again. What was it with that boy . . . and what in Merlin's name had happened to his eye?"

As Giles began explaining what he knew of the wizarding world, Severus cringed. After Giles' question to him about his presence, he had assumed a greater level of knowledge for the group than they apparently had. Another mistake, in a night full of mistakes. Maybe he needed a true vacation. He hadn't taken one in years, and if tonight was any indication of his level of functioning, he was far overdue. No use belabouring the obvious, however. He could always obliviate them after his wand was returned.

"Okay, Professor," Dawn interrupted his self-recriminations, and his intent of finally questioning the boy, "strip."

He stared at her in shock. "Pardon me?"

"From the waist up, strip," she elaborated, then rolled her eyes at his obvious reluctance. "I can't very well treat your ribs through all your clothes, now can I?"

Of course she couldn't, Severus thought irritably, glancing uneasily at the very young group of people. The problem was he really wasn't comfortable undressing -- even partway -- in front of them, especially Dawn, who was most certainly of an age with his students.

Dawn huffed at him, glaring. "I seriously doubt your chest is much different from any other guy here, and I've seen every one of them at least once. Get over yourself and strip."

He glared right back at her. There was no way he was going to let this cheeky child talk to him that way. Before he could reprimand the brat, however, Giles interceded.

"Give it up, before you dig yourself in deeper." He half grinned before continuing. "She has been our medic for the last 9 months, basically since the town was deserted by humans.

By humans? Severus wondered in surprise. So what was left? And what are these people, if not human?

"She is surprisingly professional, especially given her youth."

Biting back his first response . . . to both of them, he took a deep calming breath. Polite, he reminded himself. You must be polite. They still have your wand. "She has treated you for an injury that required the removal of clothing?" he asked sharply. So much for polite, he castigated himself silently.

Giles nodded.

Dawn laughed. "He's more likely to need his head seen to," she admitted, "but I've tended his stomach at least once for some nasty looking gouges."

"Gouges!?" he asked in shock. "Just what the bloody hell have you all been tangling with that left him with gouges?"

Dawn shrugged. "Just the usual," she replied, motioning him to hurry up and remove his shirt already.

He didn't move, just waited for the rest of her reply.

The boy chuckled, shaking his head.

Personally, Severus wanted to dock points, and wished heartily he was back at Hogwarts so that it would be an appropriate response. He opened his mouth to soundly berate the irritating man-child for his lack of manners when Dawn's next words snapped his jaw shut before he could utter a sound.

"Vampires, demons, turoq hon. You know, the usual."

Severus blinked twice before her words truly sunk in. He then rounded on Giles, outraged. "These are children!" he shouted. "How could you be so utterly irresponsible?" Muttering under his breath, he waited, hoping for some kind of reasonable response, though he didn't hold out much hope for one. "As bloody irresponsible as Black!"

Giles didn't respond right away, angering Severus further. Instead, he shared a look with Buffy. As he did so, Severus had the strangest feeling there was a conversation going on around him that he was not privy to. It was . . . odd, to say the least.

Giles turned to face him squarely, finally, just as Severus was about to lose what little control he had left on his temper. The interruption did have one saving grace, however. He was still fully clothed!

"Children with a destiny," was all the poor excuse for a Briton said.

Severus' already deep frown, deepened further. He really didn't like the sound of that. "Pardon me, but, what?"

"What do you know about Slayers?"

"The basics," he replied, not sure where this was headed. Was the man trying to tell him that one of these girls was the slayer?

Buffy stood, stepping over toward him. "One girl into each generation, yada, yada, yada. Right?"

Snorting at her less than eloquent speech, he agreed.

"I am the Slayer."

This tiny girl was the reknowned Slayer? No sodding way! Half the group immediately got restless. "Well, I was," she amended.

He sneered. "If you were ever the Slayer, you would know you don't suddenly stop. It isn't something you simply quit when you get tired of it," he spat out. The girl was an imbecile, despite initial impressions.

"Don't I know it," she muttered, "but that wasn't what I meant," she continued in a normal voice.

"Well, get on with the explanation, then," he demanded, his patience with this farce already at an end. "I would dearly love to hear this." Not in this lifetime.

She gave his earlier sneer right back to him, and even he had to admit that she was pretty good at it. A few more years to give her appearance weight, and it might actually have some effect.

"I didn't mean I was no longer a Slayer, just that I'm no longer the slayer."

"Semantics," he snapped.

"Not really."

"Yes, it--"

Buffy over-rode his objection. "When the Slayer before me died, I was called." She paused. "With me so far?"

"Yes!" Severus ground out, beyond irritated by the condescension in her cheeky tone.

"I died, temporarily, obviously."

"Obviously," he repeated drily.

"Won't go into how, doesn't matter. Point is, I died and another Slayer was called; Kendra. Thing is, I didn't stay dead, was only dead for about a minute, actually. Voila, two slayers. I'm no longer the slayer, I'm a slayer."

"A glitch," he said softly. "Amazing."

She smiled.

He continued. "A system works perfectly for millenia. You come along and muck it all up."

"Hey!" she exclaimed, most obviously insulted, and back to glaring at him.

He smirked. It felt good to get back into the rythmn that was his life. Insulting arrogant sods -- even if they were tiny blonde females -- was what made his current life worth mucking through.

"You do realize," Xander said suddenly, gaining Severus' instant attention, "that you're busy insulting the longest lived Slayer in recorded history, right?"

Severus didn't reply verbally, he simply cocked an eyebrow at the boy, as if to say, "your point?"

Xander laughed, shaking his head and giving a half smirk before turning his gaze to Buffy.

"So, Kendra is. . . ?"

"Dead," Buffy replied flatly.

Oh . . . then? His confusion must have shown, because, before he could ask, she continued.

"When she died, Faith was called," she said, waving offhandedly toward the already introduced young woman.

Severus turned his attention to the slayer in question. She lazed against the log she was leaning against, like she owned it and the patch of ground she sat on. She grinned cockily at him. The dark beauty was arrogance personified, he decided nearly instantly. Quite frankly, she rather reminded him of a far more attractive Sirius Black. He wondered if that comparison would remain valid through the test of time.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Dawn exclaimed next to him, startling him somewhat. "Stop with all the dilly dallying and strip already. I, for one, would like to get some sleep tonight. It's been a bloody long day and it would be nice to end it soon," she snapped. "If you're that blasted shy, just unbutton all the way, and I'll deal. You don't have to remove anything completely!"

"I am not shy," he sneered, doing as she suggested, however reluctant he was to do so in front of so many people. He actually felt far more comfortable doing that -- despite the company -- than he'd ever felt sitting shirtless in the infirmary. Temporary walls or not, he'd always felt awkwardly exposed until he'd completely reclothed himself. Anyone could walk in, after all. It also gave the added bonus that his mark was not exposed, something he really didn't want to do in front of Giles, a man who seemed to know a lot about the wizarding world -- a conundrum of sorts, since he wasn't entirely certain whether or not the man was a wizard.

Kiristeen ke Alaya
Feedback is always appreciated. : )
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