The gift of Life
Title: The gift of Life
Series: His greatest Gifts
Author: Simone of the Zordiak
Disclaimer: Joss and JK Rowling own all
A/N: FFA #479 Xander / Harry (Harry Potter).
He dropped his bag and looked around. The huts looked different than
he had imagined it, but still, in its own way, it was perfect.
The battle had been hard, it had been cruel and he had lost more than
a young man of his age should have lost, had grieved for more persons
than he had imagined possible and now he felt empty, like he had
shed all the tears he had and was now completely dry and hollow.
Surprisingly, it had been Snape who had told him of this village.
Deeply hidden in the African Savannah, it was said to have one of the
best shamans of the continent... at least one of the best that
allowed outsiders to come to him.
And so he had come here.
What he had found was not was he expected.
Somehow he had imagined the shaman to be old, small, white-haired,
painted from head to toe and above all, he had thought him to be
What he found was a tall, white American, with an eyepatch who couldn't
be older than perhaps twenty-eight.
Well, he did have learned from the previous shaman, who had been quite
old and who would have been everything Harry had imagined him to be,
but Xander's teacher had died, quite peacefully because of his old age.
But there was no doubt that Xander knew his way around the herbs, bones
and ritual chants. And there was more. Xander knew all about being
tired after years of battle, he knew how it felt to drift aimlessly
after the battle was finally done, and he knew how it felt to lose
Like him, Xander had been a warrior for the light, but unlike him, he
had fought his battles secretly, without the adoring public Harry still
had to fight of to be able to have a private life.
They had talked, and their talks had been long and not always easy.
There had been tears and there had been guilt on both sides.
Then Xander had started the rituals. Ritual cleaning ceremonies,
ritual mourning, ritual honouring of the dead and ritual welcoming
And Harry had learned many things, about himself, about life and about
He learned to run with the spirit of the Antelope, was licked and groomed
like an unruly cub by a mothering lion spirit, hunted with the great
cats and flew with the vultures and bats, slept the glowing heat of the
day away with the desert snakes, ran with the thundering herd of thousands
of gnus and finally he was dissolving into the earth herself as the great
mother spirit welcomed him home.
He stood in front of the castle, a bit insecure, had it really been three
Show was crowing the towers of Hogwarts and blanketing the grounds. Snow,
he shivered. Three years in the heat of Africa and he wasn't used to the
cold climate any more.
The windows of the castle were glowing quite invitingly and he knew, that
if he had the courage to enter, he would find people who had missed him and
who he had missed and he would be able to re-enter a life he had thought
he would never be able to lead.
A hand was placed onto his shoulder and he looked up. In Xanders smiling
The shaman had come with him, to teach shamanistic magic as a new elective
at Hogwarts, while he had, finally, consented to take up the post of the
In the darkness of the early winter night, the stars were twinkling
brightly. Not as bright as in the depths of the Savannah, but still
Inside the castle he knew they were preparing the trees for Christmas,
the house-elves were busily cooking a big feast and students and teachers
were busy with the last preparations.
It felt fitting to come here at this time. For Christmas was the time of
family and of coming home.
And he was ready to come home now.