Title: Master Xander
Category: TV Shows » Buffy: The Vampire Slayer
THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY MASTER XANDER' IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN IN ANY FORM. THIS DEDICATION MUST ACCOMPANY ANY DISTRUBUTION OF THIS STORY.
"Buffy The Vampire Slayer", it's characters, certain mystical devices and/or references to such, from the television show, are registered trademarks of, Mutant Enemy Productions and created by Joss Whendon. Characters, names, and all related indicia are trademarks of WB Network Entertainment.
"Harry Potter was created and is the creation of by J.K. Rowling. In other words, she owns the rights to everything! I will say that the original characters are of my creations. I am solely responsible for them as such.
This is my first Harry Potter story and I will of course make mistakes in this AU. Not every character will be identical to the book or movies. In addition, I will be focusing on some of the secondary characters more than the main ones so you will see them in the forefront.
There is another mix here as well which I will not reveal but you'll figure it out. I don't own this either, but I am having a little fun and I hope you will as well.
Note: These chapters will be relatively shorter than my usual number of words.
'Master Xander' C
Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley practically floated towards the famous and mysterious wand shop Ollivandes: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C. She couldn't believe it! She was finally going to Hogwarts and she was getting her wand today! She already had her school robes and some of her books required for school. Other supplies she'd get later but now it was time to get her wand! Looking at her smirking father, she tried her best to keep the smile off her face and failed miserably. Hey, this was a landmark event. She was about to officially become a young woman now!
Her brothers George and Fred were unabashedly smirking at her, a sure sign that they were in on the a of some sort that had to be at her expense. Being the baby sister, she sometimes received the twins unwanted attention and now, she was old enough to understand when she a victim of their pranks. They didn't prank her often; that was reserved for her older brother Ronald. Usually she was at the fringes of their pranking binges. Poor Ron though, received the brunt of their attention which usually involved some sort of food prank. The latest, which mother finally punished them for, had poor Ron's food changing colors to bright green and no matter what type of food was on the plate, it all tasted exactly the same.
Ron hated broccoli.
George and Fred thought it was hilarious and her father, instead of punishing them, laughed along with them and that was when her mother stepped in, hexing them both sending them to their rooms. Then she yelled at her husband for an hour. That did little to dissuade the twins from coming up with something else to torment their little brother. It was no wonder that Ron ate the way he did. It was his response for his brothers playing with his food. He ate like a slob because he had to get it down as fast as possible before something happened to it. she thought they were terrible to him and they thought it was funny. Not that she approved, of course.
But she had to admit, some of those pranks were really funny.
However, Ginny didn't like being the subject of pranks and today of all days was too important to her for her brothers to mess things up. Of all days, why father had to bring them with her, she'd never know. But she did have her suspicions.
"What's taking so long?" she whined. Since this morning, they'd been everywhere but the wand shop. Ginny was convinced that her father was holding off coming here on purpose as some sort of prank. Her brothers had to get it from somewhere.
Arthur Weasley was beaming as much as his daughter was. His baby girl was growing up and going off to school. It was a wonderful time but one he also dreaded. The children were growing up and all too soon they'd be off having their own adventures, getting married and having their own families. But first, he wanted to have fond memories of what it was like to be young and with family. Fred and George came up with the idea of prolonging the wait for Ginny to get her wand and he agreed. But they were being pranked, too. The twins hated shopping, so Arthur made them accompany him to every store they hated to step foot into. Shopping for girl's robes had to rank highest among their most hated thin to do. Three hours seemed long enough, he imagined. He would tell Molly about the looks on their collective faces. She'd be so amused even if she didn't show it.
They were within sight of the store now and his daughter was all but dragging him into the shop. Looking around she saw beautifully crafted boxes and cases filled with every type of wand on display as one could imagine. Those wands were for display only and weren't real ones, but they simply helped to stir her imagination. The smells of different woods, exotic oils, and other things permeated the shop, making everything seem that much more real. It was amazing and she couldn't wait. Her father couldn't help but smile as he saw the joy ho his baby daughter's face.
Moments later, her joy turned to disappointment. "It's crowded!" she wailed. "It'll be nighttime before I can get my wand. The store will close, and I'll have to wait until tomorrow! Father, it's all your fault for putting this off!"
Grabbing his daughter, he tried placating her. "There, there, it's only one customer in front of us and I'm sure he'll be done soon."
'Don't worry," Fred told her.
"It shouldn't take more than two maybe three hours," said George.
"…Before you can get your wand," responded Fred.
This mindreading gift the twins shared was one thing that Ginny loved and hated about the twins. They were so close that they knew each other's thoughts to the point of finishing each other's sentences. Furthermore, they did it on purpose to confuse everyone.
"You'll have at least twenty minutes," continued George," Before the store closes."
"That's plenty of time…" spoke Fred.
"Oh, yes. Plenty of time," finished George without missing a beat.
Ginny responded the only way she could. She started wailing. She had waited for so long for this day taking extra care to wear her best clothes because she wanted to look beautiful for this day and now it was ruined!
"Fred, George, be nice to your sister or we'll skip the joke shop today!" Arthur warned.
Both brothers immediately lowered their heads after a moment's shock. No way could they miss going to the joke shop. That was the reason why they came along in the first place.
"Yes, sir," both said in unison.
Ginny still felt miserable.
This was turning out to be a most interesting day for the owner of the wand shop. Garrick Ollivander's shop was busy today. Almost a dozen first years had come for their wands and he smiled fondly as he dutifully repaired his shop over two dozen times. All of the children were given fine wands, the best in the world if he did say so himself. That was the tradition, handed from father to son until the ownership passed to him. He loved his job because it was challenging creating works of art. Each wand was different and had to be matched to his or her owner. The art of wand-making was not only in making the physical wand but matching it to the person. Becoming one with a wand wasn't as easy as he made it seem. There was an art to it and he and his family were artists. Few and far in-between were the complaints he'd received over the years. He was proud of his accomplishments.
However, what the man before him asked for was as unusual as his appearance. It caused the elder wandmaker to take a moment to examine the man. He was in his early forties with brown hair speckled with patches of gray. all about six feet in height, about one eighty or so. He was tanned and had piercing brown eyes that complimented his almost lazy, relaxed smile. He looked healthy and beneath is strange clothing he hinted of well-used muscles. He had the look of a foreigner, possibly a new world colonial.
"Mister Harris, you're a yank, an American?" he asked as his curiosity got the better of hm.
"Yep, one hundred percent, born and raised."
"Most interesting," Ollivander said, as his eyes gleamed. "The wandmakers in the Colonies are very good. Are you perhaps wanting a secondary wand for use? If that's true, the you've come to the right place."
Behind him, Arthur perked up. The customer in front of him was an American. How exciting! Maybe he knew about muggle devices and what their purposes were. He was always interested in muggle devices and how they worked. It was a hobby of his, one that his wife somewhat disapproved of. She complained that he was always leaving dangerous 'muggle' junk around. He of course, disagreed and she mostly left him alone. But this American might know what some of those things he had collected over the years were. So he couldn't help but try to listen in on the conversation while holding on to his anxious daughter.
"Thank you, I believe I have. This is the first time I'm buying a wand of my own."
That surprised Garrick. "You've never had a wand of your own? I believed that the wand specialists at Livermony would have supplied you with a suitable wand for your own personal use."
The customer nodded at the shop owner and his obvious prompt. "I didn't attend Livermony. I hear it is a good school. Me, I went to a private college in Southern California. It was very exclusive, and I received my training and degrees there. The wand I used was, you might say, a family heirloom and I had to return it. I just moved here recently. I have a small magic shop a couple of blocks from here. It's not opened yet," he explained.
"Most interesting," Garrick said filing that away for future use. "Well, back to business. Which hand do you prefer?" has asked as he prepared to make measurements to ensure a proper wand fit. Behind him Ginny looked on with intense interest and excitement. Soon, she'd be the one being measured for a wand.
"I prefer my right hand, sir. You can take the measurements, but I'm not here to buy a wand. I want you to make me one."
The shop owner looked up in surprise. "You want a custom-made wand? I must inform you that all of my wands are custom-made."
"I know. That's why I'm here," the man answered. "I have the design here," he said as he presented blueprints to the very interested shop keeper. "This is a thirteen and a half inch, red oak and ash. And this," he pulled out a small wooden box and placed it on the counter, "is the core I want placed inside the wand."
The wand maker looked intently as the man opened the box. Inside, there was a small tightly braided set of hairs. Intrigued, he pulled out his own wand and waved it over the braid.
"What is this?" he asked. "I've never seen anything like this. It's human and something else." He waved his wand over it once more. "There is power here unlike anything I've seen before."
The American waved his hand and the braid separated into four strands, each a different color. Behind him, Arthur raised his eyebrows at the demonstration of wandless magic. "It's a braid consisting of four hairs, freely given. The blond hair is from one of the longest living warriors of her kind. The brunette strand is from her sister warrior, heir to the line. The next strand is red and white comes from their bond sister and my best friend when I was young. These are sister in all but blood. They strive together in friendship, adversity, though joy and sorrow. They are warriors against the darkness, and they are my friends. The last strand is from another bond mate, separate from me but never parted. She is a primal. Her strand was freely given to me. All; are Alphas, all are warriors and all of them are my friends." The American waved his hand over the strands and the braid reformed itself.
"It's a primal," Ollivander whispered. "I've heard of them but never in my lifetime have I ever seen an example of one. I've had many cores to use in my wands, even phoenix feathers and vampire hair. I've created a wand made from the hair of a werewolf and scales of a dragon as cores, but never a mystical primal. I didn't believe they existed."
"They don't, not on this world."
The man said it in a way that made Ollivander look at him in a new light. 6"Yes, yes. I see," he muttered. "Not of this world."
"Can you do it?" the man asked.
"I think I can rise to the challenge," the older man answered. "It will take twenty-four days."
"Excellent," the man said as he clapped his hands. "Here is a down payment of thirty galleons, the rest upon delivery."
"Excellent, is there anything else?"
"I think that's it," he answered as the shopkeeper completed his measurements. "Oh, here is my card. My shop will be opened in a few days. It's called Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities. I'll also serve American style foods."
"I look forward to visiting your store one day."
Thank you again. Now, I have to get out of the way before that young girl bursts open at the seams."
There was a gleam in his eye as he glanced at the young lady about to shove the American out of the way. "Quite so," agreed the shop keeper.
A grinning Alexander Harris moved out of the way before he could be shoved by the young, petite red-haired girl.
"Thank you, sir," she said to him, as she stepped up to speak to the shopkeeper. Turning to the American she said brightly, "I am getting my wand today!" and she promptly forgot he existed as Ollivander started to measure her.