allyndra | Articulation 9/15

The ugly voice of prophecy is heard across the land. Errr, across the conference table, anyway.

Xander was still smiling when he got to work. He could definitely get used to waking up next to Harry. They hadn't been all snuggled up - Xander's arms fell asleep if he tried to hold someone all night - but they had been touching. It had been nice. Discovering that Harry had set the alarm to go off a half hour early so they could spend some time together before work had been even nicer. So it was a happy and relaxed Xander that strolled into the nearly completed Watcher's Council Headquarters that morning.

The happy and relaxed Xander swiftly morphed into a defensive and concerned Xander when he was accosted by Giles soon after his arrival. "Why didn't you ring me back, Xander? I thought you had outgrown this kind of irresponsibility."

"Geez, harsh much? I'm sorry; I guess got out of the habit of being on call for the latest apocalypse. Things have been pretty quiet lately. And you know, I was never exactly your go-to guy, Giles." Xander ran a hand through his hair and tries to figure out what had Giles all kerfluffled. "So what's the 411 on your 911?"

"I beg your pardon?" Even after all these years, Giles occasionally thought the young people were speaking in tongues. Or making up gibberish just to annoy him.

"Tell me about the big emergency," Xander translated.

"Come along to my office. I'd prefer to discuss this privately." Giles waited impatiently while Xander checked in with his crew, and then led the way to the book-lined inner sanctum that was reserved for the Head of the Council. "Sit," Giles ordered. Xander sat. He picked up a letter opener from the table in front of him and played with it as he listened to Giles' explanation.

"The Hellmouth was an outlet for vast amounts of mystical energy. It's what made Sunnydale for very attractive to such an array of demons and magic users." Giles ignored Xander's muttered comment about the beach being a big draw as well. "When the Hellmouth was destroyed so dramatically in the spring, that outlet was blocked. The power, however, did not dissipate. There have been...ripples in the earth's ambient magical energy for months now. They aren't fading. In fact, they are gaining in strength."

Xander gave the letter opener a particularly ambitious toss and smiled when he caught it without stabbing himself. "I don't get it. Why would they start small and then get bigger? I mean, when you throw a rock in a pond, you get a big splash and then little ripples that die away. And we threw one hell of a rock." Xander squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he thought of Spike's sacrifice, then opened them and concentrated on the subject at hand.

"I'm afraid that analogy doesn't quite fit." Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to make the younger man understand. "It's more like we plugged a hole in a dam. Then the water built up and started trickling over the top of the dam."

"And now it's getting less trickle-y and more flood-y."

"Precisely," Giles said, with a relieved look.

"Well, not to sound like the immature, self-absorbed guy I pretend not to be, but what's it got to do with me? I'm not the star of the show when it comes to magic. I'm more like the alternate understudy who paints the set and sweeps the stage."

"I am aware that you have little to do with magical workings, but this situation is unique. While researching the impact of closing the Hellmouth, I came across a prophecy. As you would know if you could be bothered to check your messages," Giles said with a pointed look, "this prophecy mentions you in particular."

Xander dropped the letter opener with a clatter. "Whoa! I'm not prophecy guy. I'm doughnut fetching guy. I'm the guy who fixes the windows and figures out which Slayers to put with which Watchers. They don't write prophecies about that kind of stuff."

"You are correct, this prophecy does not refer to doughnuts or windows. But it *is* about you. Here, read it for yourself." Giles turned to the cluttered desk behind him and extracted a sheet of paper. It was old and a bit tattered, and when Xander reached out to take it, it felt soft. With some trepidation, he read the short paragraph written in faded ink.

~When the gateway closes, the waves shall rise up to envelope the earth.

And neither the Power of Will nor the Power of Wands will be strong enough to halt their progress.

Guard well the One Who Sees and the Survivor, for upon their bond can the defense be built.~

Xander shakily put the prophecy down on the table. "What makes you so sure it's about me?" he asked. He tried to sound confident, but his voice sounded strained even to his own ears.

"Did you not read the reference to the One Who Sees?"

"What, so thumb-boy calls me something and all of a sudden it's my new mystical nickname? No fair! Anyway, that description could fit lots of people. How about Cordelia, isn't she a seer?" Xander racked his brain desperately for others who could See.

"Cordelia is in a coma. And you're leaving out the mention of the Survivor. I know you are discomfited by the idea of being in a prophecy, but even you must admit that that title suits Mr. Potter rather well," Giles pointed out. His voice was gentle, but his hazel eyes were determined.

Xander slumped forward and put his head in his hands. "Fine. But if your prophecy screws up my relationship with Harry, I will make it my personal mission to see that you never date again." He raised his head to glare at the Watcher, then said reluctantly, "I'll help."

"Excellent. Then would you please ask Mr. Potter to join us so that can begin working on the defense?"

"Sure, Giles," Xander said resignedly. Mentally he was running through ways to contact Harry. 'Damn, I've got to get that boy a cell phone,' he thought. "Hey Giles?" he said aloud, "Do you know where I could find a message owl?"

***

Harry was sitting in a training session about ways to counter unknown potions. He had been surprised to find himself enjoying learning about potions once he was away from Hogwarts. He would never be as easily competent a potion brewer as Draco had been or as Hermione still was, but he was getting better. He swotted away at the subject, determined to become at least competent. He was so engrossed in what he was learning that it took several minutes before he noticed the owl that was trying to get his attention. Finally, when the bird pecked at his hand, he looked up.

Harry removed the message from the owl's leg and unrolled it curiously. The message read, "Harry, Remember how you wanted to see where I work? Well, I really need you to come by. Giles has a prophecy, and he thinks we're involved. Get back to me as soon as possible. Love, Xander"

Harry started packing up his things immediately. He paused only to offer an apology to the auror in charge of the training section before leaving. He apparated away as soon as he got out into the corridor. With a crack, he appeared in front of a large brick building in the middle of London. He could feel the protection charms and shields on it even from the street. Looking at the size of the building, he knew he'd never be able to locate Xander in that pile. Fortunately, he spotted a callbox nearby. He stepped over to it and dialed the number of Xander's mobile.

"Hello," the familiar voice answered.

"Hey, it's Harry. I'm outside of the Council. Do you think you could come guide me in?"

"Wow! That was fast. Yeah, just wait there and I'll be right out." Both men rung off, and Harry moved away from the phone to wait on the pavement in front of the building. Xander came out the door only a few moments later. Harry was embarrassed to feel a twinge in his middle at the sight of the other man. 'I've just seen him two hours ago!' he chastised himself. Xander grabbed his hand and tugged him up the steps and into the building.

"We're going to Giles' office to work on this prophecy." He stopped suddenly and faced Harry, concern evident in his brown gaze. "I've agreed to be in on this, but I understand if you don't want to get involved. You've kind of been screwed over by prophecies before."

Harry was touched. "If it's a true prophecy, I don't think it's a good idea to just ignore it, Xander. If it's about you and me, it must be a good prophecy, anyroad, right?" He reached up and stroked the taller man's face before stepping back determinedly. "Which way do we go, then?" Xander resumed towing Harry along, and in moments they were ensconced in Giles' office.

After reading the prophecy and hearing Giles' explanations, Harry had some questions. "What sort of consequences will there be if we don't get the defenses in place?"

"It would be catastrophic. Think of a tsunami of magical power washing over the world. It would tear down magical shields, release demons and spirits that have been bound, overwhelm the minds of most magic users. I'm afraid I have to consider this a prophecy of apocalypse."

"But it's a quite optimistic prophecy if you look at it right," Harry said, reassuringly. "It clearly says there's a defense."

Giles took off his glasses and polished them distractedly with a handkerchief. "Yes, but I am at a loss as to what the defense could be. The waves won't be corporeal, so a physical barrier would do us no good. And the prophecy states that our magic won't work."

"No!" Harry sat up straighter, his green eyes flashing as a realization flashed into his head. "It says neither your magic, 'The Power of Will,' nor my magic, 'The Power of Wands,' will be strong enough. But what if we combined the two?"

Giles looked excited at the prospect. "That might work. With the focus and power of the wizarding community and the control and connection to earth magic from the Wiccan community, we might be able to construct a barrier and reroute the power. This is brilliant!" Harry flushed a bit at the praise. "We'll need to test this out on a small scale first."

Xander, who had been watching the exchange said, "Willow's our strongest Wicca, but she's in South America right now."

Do you know where, exactly?" Harry asked. "We could send someone to apparate back with her, or get her by Floo."

"I think she's in Argentina. She was singing a lot of Evita when she was here last, anyway."

"Quite right, she's in Buenos Aires right now. I can send her a message as soon as we determine who is picking her up and with whom she will be working." Giles sifted through the papers on his desk, searching for a roster of his magic users as he spoke.

"Can't I do it?" Harry asked. After all, he was already involved.

"I'm afraid not. You already have a role in this as some sort of foundation for the defense. I believe you should not be part of the actual barrier spell." Giles looked apologetic. "And besides, you are frankly too important to risk in an experiment."

"I see." Harry struggled to overcome his irritation at being cosseted. "I'm sure Hermione would be pleased to help. She's the strongest witch I know, and she's familiar enough with the muggle world and different types of magic that she should be able to work with Willow."

"Very well, then. Contact this Hermione, and then we will call Willow." Harry nodded at Giles' statement and prepared to apparate to Hermione's office in the Ministry. He really hoped this plan worked.