It Begins with a rather Absurd Situation
Okay, first things first- none of this is own by maself. The characters (from both Buffy and Harry Potter) are entirely the property of their respective writers.
Second- God, I hope I can pull this off. We'll see.
Harry whipped out his wand. “Who are you?!”
The man who had suddenly appeared blinked and looked around, turning in a full circle. “This is definitely not Kansas…” he muttered.
“Who are you?!” Harry repeated.
The man (who looked like a pirate with that eye-patch) drew himself up. Harry gulped. The guy was huge
, in the tall and really strong sense of huge. And the blood dripping down his arm really helped with that growing menace factor.
“I’m the Great and Powerful Oz!” He boomed. “Who are you?
Harry stared. The great and powerful… Hermione suddenly piped up.
“I’m the Scarecrow. He’s the Cowardly Lion,” she said, nodding at Harry. “And he’s the Tin Man. Please sir, we’ve been looking all over for you! We must request a boon!”
The pirate blinked and then flashed a grin a second before he frowned.
“Hold on, weren’t there four of you? I could swear there were four, not this paltry three…
Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged. In for a penny... “Dorothy couldn’t make it. He had to gel his curly golden locks straight.”
Hermione squeaked into her hands and the pirate grinned.
“Most excellent. Now that introductions are out of the way, where the hell am I?”
“Hogwarts.” Hermione replied.
The pirate smacked his head. “Of course. Magic castle in Scotland. Just not the right
magic castle in Scotland.” He glanced at the trio. “There’s more than one. Who knew?”
“More than one magic castle?” Hermione said excitedly. “Are you sure? I could swear Hogwarts was the only one in Western Europe!”
“What? Whoa! Hold on, now. In all
of Western Europe? We’re not counting Neuschwanstein, Killua, Dunlace, or Wolfenstein?”
Hermione’s brow furled. "Those are all muggle castles.”
“And muggle is…?”
“Non-magi- you don’t know what muggle means? How did you get in here?!”
“An excellent question. As soon as I can figure out where here is.”
“But we just told you!”
“Well, yes, but if this isn’t the right magic castle, is this the right Scotland? Or the right now? Hell, is it the right planet? This isn’t New Scotland, is it? Or New Terra? Dear God, please tell I me I haven’t landed on Holy Terra!”
Harry, having sat through entirely too many sessions with Dudley, couldn’t resist. He scowled. “There is no God- only the Emperor, and he is our shield and protector!”
“Oh- oh, you, we’re going to get along well
after I’ve killed you. Seriously, though, can I get a date? A time? Is Hitler a threat, or did the Russian Imperium rise up and crush Eastern Europe?”
Hermione frowned. “Russian Imperium? There hasn’t been a monarchy in nearly a century!”
“Nearly a century from...?”
“Well, crap!” The pirate sat down. “I’d kinda hoped time travel wasn’t involved. Of course, we could still be dealing with an alternate. You were saying about the Imperium?”
“Well, they had a revolution in 1914, and then the Soviet Union broke 1991, and now it’s just plain Russia. Um, Hitler was defeated by the Allies in 1945- that’s about the same time Dumbledore defeated Grindlewald, Ron, and um… Harry, help me, I’ve been stuck in magical history for six years!”
“Independence Day came out.”
“Oooh, good movie, I remember that. Year before Buffy came to Sunnydale.”
Hermione brightened. “Sunnydale? Wait, I remember that name!”
“Well, it is a hellmouth.”
It was purged in 1937 when, um, a muggle realized the mayor hadn’t aged in nearly forty years and killed him. The was a great big hubbub in the magical world- the world had come that close to ending and it was only saved because a little girl who didn’t even know about magic became a murderer. They couldn’t decide whether to intervene in the muggles’ trial or not.”
The pirate snapped his fingers. “And we have achieved alternative! My world, Sunnydale kinda fell into a hole when the hellmouth was closed in 2003. Er, out of curiosity, what happened to her?”
“A British man showed up to visit and she disappeared.”
“Hrm.” His face darkened. “That could’ve been either very good or very bad. Ah, well. I don’t suppose you know anything about dimensional portals, do you?” The pirate looked at them hopefully.
“Er…” Hermione flushed.
“I think we’d better take you to Dumbledore. “ Harry said, tucking his wand away.
“Dumb an’ who?”
“Dumbledore!” Hermione exclaimed. “He’s the headmaster at this school. If anyone knew anything about portals, it’d be him.”
“Well, then, what are we waiting for? Tally ho!”
The old man who was writing at his desk looked up. “Good evening children. And who might you have brought along?”
The redhead, Ron, spoke up. “Says he’s the great and powerful Oz, Headmaster.”
The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled. “Is he, now?”
“Only to the vertically challenged.” Xander stepped forward and held out his hand. “Most of the nominally heightened translate it as Xander.”
The Headmaster shook it in amusement. “And how might one translate “great and powerful” in our undiminished language, Mister Xander?”
Xander grinned. “Harris, Professor. Grammatically speaking, it comes after Xander. You guys seem to like putting the descriptions after.”
“It makes ignoring what follows that much easier, Mr. Harris. Sit, sit. May I offer you some tea?” The Headmaster rotated his tea set around to reach for the teapot.
Xander found a chair in the cluttered office and sat down. It was incredibly comfortable. “Nah, thanks.” he said, leaning back. “I just gutted a Cherniffelous. I find that tea makes a pretty good emetic after that.”
Dumbledore set the pot down. “Ah, quite. Well, then. To what do I owe this visit?”
“He’s from another world!” Hermione blurted.
“Some crazy Imperial one.” Ron added.
“I was kinda hoping you might know how to get back.” Xander replied mildly.
“Indeed? And from where in the multiverse might you hail?”
“Hold on a second, Willow made me memorize this… okay, so, 13 stacks center-ward, 3,452 cross-wound, and five shades past chartreuse!”
Dumbledore blinked. “Oh, my. And the time-spin?”
“Three-eighths clockwise past the mid-bob.”
“I see. Well. I regret to inform you that we will not be passing by the synaptic terminals of your dimension for another three thousand, nine-hundred and eighty-five years. At which point, we will have to blow up Australia.”
“Oh, yes, quite. China, unfortunately, just does not have the dimensional power of the outback.”
“I meant about the time. I mean, I got
here in less than half a second.”
“I’m afraid so. Imagine a gigantic clock with an infinite number of gears. You are the minute hand, and we are the second. If seconds took approximately sixty-five years, and sometimes changed speed.”
“So I stepped off the minute right when the second was under me?”
“Approximately, yes. I would say that the best thing you can do now is, settle down, buy some robes, and be back next week in time for class.”