Articulation 4/15

[allyndra]

The next time Xander and Harry meet.

Harry had wanted to apparate. The instantaneous transfer didn't leave time for standing awkwardly outside the door, trying to get up the nerve to knock. However, he knew it was rude to simply appear in someone's home, so here he was, lurking in the corridor. Finally he raised his hand and rapped quickly on the door.

 

He waited, listening to the muffled noises from inside for a moment before the door opened. Xander didn't ask him in, but he stood aside in a way that was marginally inviting, so Harry entered. Maybe they had different manners in the States.

 

"Just give me two minutes, and I'll be ready," Xander said. Harry turned to assure him that that was fine and was caught up short by the sight of the other man. He was holding his shirt in one hand, and was wearing a tight, sleeveless undershirt that revealed golden skin and defined muscles. His hair was still wet from the shower. Even darkened with water, it was several shades lighter than Harry's. With a welcoming half-smile on his face and beads of water dripping down the column of his neck, he was, as Hermione would say, immensely fanciable.

 

Harry swallowed. "No problem." He pulled his eyes away and looked for something else to focus on while Xander donned his shirt. His eyes skimmed the room until he saw that the windows bore protection runes like those over the door. He wandered over to them and examined one, running his fingers over the carving.

 

"How long does it take you to make these?" he asked.

 

Xander came up behind him. "It depends on how much time I can devote to it in one sitting. There was a while when I wasn't sleeping, so I carved to keep myself occupied. I made a ton of these. Gave them to all my friends. But, hey! At least they're useful. I could have taken up macramé."

 

"They're brilliant. I could feel them when I walked in," Harry said, turning to face the other man. He told himself he was not disappointed that Xander was now fully clothed.

 

Xander's face lit up at the praise. "Why, thank you." He gave a little bow. "So, do you have anywhere in mind for dinner?"

 

"Do you like Indian food? It's one of my favourites."

 

"I like Navajo fry-bread. And suddenly I'm thinking that's not the Indian you were talking about. I have never tried Indian-from-India food. I watch Bollywood movies, though. Does that count?"

 

"No, I don't think movies count. Time for you to give it a try, then. I saw a place just down the road."

 

***

 

Harry had had to order, because Xander had no clue what any of the food was. As they sat waiting to be served, Xander fiddled with a piece of flat bread. Questions buzzed in his head like that glow-y location spell of Willow's, but he didn't know where to start.

 

Once he had a plate full of strange food in front of him, a thought struck him. "Harry!" he hissed. "How are we supposed to talk in here? You can't just erase the memory of everyone in the restaurant."

 

"S'okay," Harry said around a mouthful of curry. He swallowed. "I've thought of that." He carefully pulled out his wand, keeping it below table level so no one else would see what he was up to. He whispered a spell under his breath and put his wand away. "There. Now nobody will hear anything important."

 

Xander decided he liked Harry's magic better than most of the mojo he encountered. Harry just waved his wand and spoke a word, and - hey, presto - magic happened. It was way better than stinky incense and potions and urns.

 

"I feel like I should make small talk." Xander said. "So, Mr. Potter, what do you do for a living?"

 

Harry groaned. "If you were a wizard that would be small talk. Since you're not, I'm going to have to explain my world and half my life to you just to answer it."

 

"What can I say, I'm gifted at extracting information. Explain away." Xander gave Harry a superior smile that dissolved into alarm as whatever he was eating tried to burn a hole through his tongue. Choking back a laugh, Harry started to tell Xander about the wizarding world and his life in it.

 

Xander ate his way cautiously through his meal as he listened to Harry's story. Not for the first time, he found himself resenting the Powers that set prophecies in motion. 'Why can't they ever decree 'And he will have a happy childhood and watch cartoons all summer,' or 'She'll have a nice time at the dance?' Why does it always have to be death and more death?' He recognized large gaps in the tale he was told, but he chose not to call the young wizard on it. He just ate and listened.

 

***

 

"Then, last spring, Voldemort finally felt strong enough to attack Hogwarts in force. Fortunately, we had spies in his camp." Spies, plural. Most of the Order was only aware of Snape's efforts, as Draco's work had been a close kept secret. "We met him in the Great Hall, with our own army. He tried to read my mind, to find out what I was planning, but I blocked him." Not that that had been enough. Harry's skills at occlumency had protected the battle plans, but they had also frustrated Voldemort enough that he looked for another target. He hit the other two members of the Gryffindor trio, and what he found in Hermione's mind had granted him a new way to hurt Harry. He'd turned to the ranks of his own followers and unleashed the Killing Curse on the traitor who had dared to love Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy had died in an instant.

 

It had been the plan of a moment, probably intended to break Harry's concentration. It hadn't worked that way. Instead of grief, Draco's death had filled Harry with a new purpose, giving him the strength to cast advanced hexes and to drive the sword of Gryffindor through the dark sorcerer's heart. Grief had come later, and had never really left.

 

"It was dreadful; it was war. But I carried out my destiny. I killed Voldemort, and now I get to survive." Harry cleared his throat. "I wanted to be an Auror ever since I first heard of them, so I'm training to be one. I'll be catching the dark wizards and stopping them *before* they get so strong that people fear to mention their names."

 

He finally stopped talking and just sat, staring down at his clenched hands. A large, brown hand came into view and covered them. Harry looked up at Xander.

 

"A friend of mine said, 'The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.'" Xander's single eye gazed solemnly across the table at him. "Just surviving isn't enough of a goal." Harry blinked hard and looked back down. Though he had good days, there were days when just surviving was all he could do. The arrival of the check saved him from having to reply.

 

***

 

As they left the restaurant, Harry turned to Xander and pierced him with a hard emerald stare. "I thought we were supposed to interrogate *each other* over dinner. I seem to have done all the talking."

 

Xander scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk. 'Darn!' he thought. 'And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kid.' Giving in, he sighed, "How about you do the hocus pocus so no one understands us, and I tell you my riveting tale while we walk off dinner?"

 

"Alright." Harry nodded. "So, Mr. Harris, what do you do for a living?"

 

"You realize that to answer that I practically have to tell you my whole life story," Xander said accusingly.

 

Harry shrugged. "Revenge."

 

"Okay, then. What do you know about the Vampire Slayer?" It turned out that Harry had been forced to read about Slayers while preparing for his O.W.L.s. He had a friend who sounded like just as much of a study-Nazi as Willow. That background made things simpler, and Xander began his tale with the day his life changed: the day he met Buffy Summers.

 

As the two men wandered through the neighborhood, Xander told Harry all about becoming a Slayerette and doing his part - no matter how small and snack-oriented - to help save the world. He glossed over many side stories, relationships, and apocalypses that didn't seem germane at the moment. Finally, he moved into the fight against the First.

 

"The girls went down through the seal. They knew they weren't strong enough to fight the Turok-Han, but they had faith" he smiled at his own pun "that they would become strong enough. And they did. But it wasn't enough. Several of them died, and it still wasn't enough. Spike had the amulet, though, and when it activated, it gave us just enough time to clear out before the whole place sank into the ground. We were lucky to lose so few. We were lucky." He repeated, as though trying to convince himself. We lost Spike and Anya, but we were lucky. The two concepts were antithetical. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the mood he's put himself into.

 

"So, there we were with all these shiny new slayers and a decapitated Watcher's Council. Giles still had connections, and not all the Watchers were in the building when it blew, so we started rebuilding. I'm in charge of the construction of the new headquarters. Glorified bricklayer strikes back! I also help out with pairing up Slayers with Watchers. It's good work. It's just strange to be doing a job instead of fighting the fight."

 

Harry stepped a bit closer and bumped his shoulder up against Xander's. "It looked like you were still fighting the fight last night. I never thanked you for getting rid of those demons. They were probably there for me."

 

"Really? And I thought I was a demon magnet! Maybe I'll have to spend more time with you, so I can get some exercise fighting your leftovers." Xander bumped his shoulders back against Harry's. He couldn't help thinking that Harry's shoulders were at the perfect height for this. He also couldn't help thinking it was a little pathetic that he was trying to come up with excuses to spend time with the English wizard. Harry just smiled his agreement.

 

"Excellent plan. You fight all the assassins while I work on my tan. This will be a brilliant partnership."

 

Xander felt something inside of him lighten. "You want to do something this weekend, then? I hear there's terrible danger from demons at the movie theater." Green eyes lit with amusement under the shaggy black fringe, and Harry fell in with his plan. Maybe it was time for both of them to start living.