Disclaimer: I own nothing. No Buffy. No Harry Potter. Stop asking.
Africa was not called the ‘dark continent’ once-upon-a-time because it was full of fluffy bunnies. It was full of demons. Xander had reason to suspect that the whole damn place was one big Hellmouth. It certainly felt like one. He had spent some time in England being ignored by Giles, some time in Italy being ignored by Buffy and Dawn and some time in D.C. being ignored by Willow. No other place gave him the same tingly sensation an active Hellmouth invoked in him. He had first noticed the slight buzz in his head when Sunnydale collapsed. It felt like coming down from a drinking binge that hadn’t stopped since the moment he was born. A month of hangover symptoms later, he decided that he didn’t really want to live anywhere that wasn’t evil ever again.
So, all but forgotten by his friends, he made his way into the heart of Africa, training slayers to fight the darkness. He made a few good friends along the way, fought a whole slew of things that would make your nightmares shake with fear, trained new slayers, lost his good friends, fought harder, made more friends, lost some slayers and fought more fiends from hell than any man could while staying sane. It is a testament to his monumental willpower that he kept hope for three long years.
Then it happened. A particularly powerful demon found his way into the local Watcher’s HQ to prove to his clan that he was strong enough to lead them. Only Xander survived. He walked, slowly, grimly, towards the nest he knew the demon came from with a cold iron long knife grasped so hard that the skin over his knuckles split. Bitter tears streamed down his face as he slaughtered the demon tribe one at a time. Buffy would have charged in, guns blazing, Willow would have gone dark-eyed and then charged in, guns blazing and Giles would have made a plan which would have amounted to calling in back-up then go charging in, guns blazing. Not Xander. He did things quietly and quickly. You can’t take vengeance if you’re dead and your opponents can’t kill you if they die before they know you’re there, these where some of the first things he taught to new slayers. As such, no alarm was raised and no battle was met, just silent, swift judgment.
The events of that night became legend; a sole, normal human destroyed a powerful demon clan in a single night. It gave hope to all those “powerless” humans; it showed them that they are not just cattle or bystanders. They could fight and they could win against the dark. That lone light of hope almost redeemed what happened next as a positive event. However, all the evil and all the good wrought by that night were overshadowed by a single event that would shape the course of history for years to come.
Lying in the blood of his enemies, exhausted, Xander was found by his biological father: Voldemort.
AN: So, whadda y’ tink mon? Potential or nay?