The Crossroads of Life chapter 3

This is just a short preview. I will add more tomorrow.

Also, there was a slight mistake before, oh about two chapters ago I think. Willow does know that Xander is a metamorphasis, whatever that is spelled. But not that he is a Wizard. Because this is my story, there are people with the ability to change their appearance, a Meta-whatever, but they are not necessarily magical, wizards or witches. Get it? Hopefully.

Blah is telepathic talk

Previously on Crossroads…

"Yep. Alexander Lavelle Harris, once known as Harry Potter, in currently residing in Sunnydale, California, in the United States."

Everyone, besides the newcomer in the fireplace and Dylan, turned pale. Dylan was confused to see this. What's so wrong with Sunnydale? It sounded like a nice place to live. He voiced this.

"What's so wrong about Sunnydale?" He questioned, looking confused.

Dumbledore ran a hand down his face, and said almost absently.

"The Hellmouth is there."

Chapter 3

Dylan looked confused. "What's the Hellmouth?"

Dumbledore walked over to one of his many twinkets, a small globe that sat inconspicously in the middle of the shelf. In the globe was an array of dark colors, mostly black and red but also blue, changing colors all the time. It looked like a swirling mass of dark clouds that were constantly showing other colors that usually would not be seen in a natural storm. He picked it up carefully, looking at it for a moment, and walked back over to his desk. Placing it gently on the desk in front of Dylan, he sighed.

"A Hellmouth is a place of immense evil, my boy. The gateway, or portal, between this dimension and the next. There are more than one Hellmouth, but Sunnydale sits on the most active and the largest. This," he tapped the globe with one finger without looking at it, looking instead at a spot above Dylan. "Is the rather remarkable little invention of Tythra Fier, the founder and first headmistress of the first magical school in the Americas. The school is named after her in honor of her lifework by her students, who many went on to establish schools in faraway lands that previously had no magical educational areas in which to learn the art of magic. Tythr, the Academy of the Magical Arts, is still around today, and is North America's version of Hogwarts. Infact, Hogwarts and Tythr have had a history together that does not extend to any other school. But that itself is another story.

Tythra Fier, before establishing the school, had gotten the idea to study hellmouths. Particularly the Hellmouth in California. She spent many years living there and in the surrounding areas, studying. It is thanks to her work that we have most of the knowledge now of the Hellmouths. She experimented with wards and spells that wouldn't be changed by the Hellmouth energies and twisted. She succeeded. Now each ministry of every country that has a Hellmouth or Hellmouths in it can somewhat shield themselves and their establishments against dark energies. There are limits to it, but by in large it works. This was a wonderful discovery. It has allowed for more study and saved money that would otherwise spent on setting up numerous wards and fixing damage.

She didn't just study the Hellmouth itself, she also made discoveries in the creatures that flocked to it. She created spells and potions that would help to defeat evil creatures, wards that would keep all but the most powerful out, or even the most powerful if large or powerful enough. She had plenty of opportunity to study these creatures.

You see, the Hellmouth attracts evil creatures of all sorts to it, drawing them in like moths to a flame. The death toll of the small town of Sunnydale exceeds every large city in the United States, or the whole world for that matter. Even the towns and locations of the rest of the hellmouths. This is despite the work that aurors and demon hunters do. They are very successful on the smaller Hellmouths, but not the Californian Hellmouth. It is just too large in the first place." He looked grim. "There are undiscovered wizards and witches living there, as we speak. And for those that are born there, and raised there, their power is greatly enhanced. The Hellmouth energies are absorbed through time into them. If they live long enough that is. The magical core of a wizard or witch attracts the sort of evil that inhabits a Hellmouth. The more powerful, the more of an attraction, and if they live past the age of ten and then fifteen, there is more of a pull. I am sad to say that the majority don't get passed the age of nine. And if they do, caution is necessary for those that learn magic that lived there even for a short time, because of the dark energies. Especially children. Or…"

"Or what?" asked Dylan.

"Or they can be easily corrupted, easily drawn to the darkness. For your brother, to have lived there for so long, it is essential that he is careful. The dark will try to call to him, and it will succeed to a point. Those that have Hellmouth energies in them have a certain affinity to the dark arts. But it doesn't mean they are evil. Some dark arts are not actually evil, just need more caution to those that practice it. The Hellmouth itself is not evil. And yes, the Hellmouth is in a way alive. It can not control what kind of energies it has. The core of the Hellmouth actually, according to Fier, is pure and good. Something happened long ago to the Hellmouths that made the energies that are given out dark, something immensely terrible. What it was, she had no idea, and no one has discovered what. To most wizards, the energies make it unbearable to be near a Hellmouth for long. And no spell can get passed to detect magical children that need to learn as of yet. That is probably why all efforts to locate your brother have been unsuccessful."

"There have been attempts to get past the energies to detect the magical children that reside there, but all efforts have been unsuccessful so far." Rick, whose presence had been forgotten by Dylan, said.

"Then, my brother is untrained and probably has no idea what he is."

"No idea." Rick confirmed.

"I want to go get him, or at least talk to him." Dylan announced, looking up.

"That is why a few members of the Order will go with you, trained members to help protect you, your brother, or both. They are ready now, in fact." Dylan shot a glance at Dumbledore, whose face took on innocent look. But he wasn't fooled, not at all. Dumbledore's face went blank for a second, and then cleared. "They are coming now."


"Severus, Remus, Sirius, and a few others will be going. They all are going for special reasons, which I will explain when they get here. And before you protest, they need to go. And before you ask, if you would like your friends can go if they wanted to, if they agree to have protection at all times." There were steps on the staircase, and Severus, Remus, and Sirius came up in that order.

Sirius had made up with Sev a while ago, having to live with the former spy when his cover had been discovered. (AN: Sirius will not die, promise.) With it basically being them in the Black house, they had made up their differences and actually learned to be friends. Sev was basically the same way he had been, just as sarcastic but less cold. Remus, who had never really had a problem with Sev, had fit into the circle of friends well. Remus, who was engaged to Tonks now, was happier, less pale and less sickly looking. He had found a way to come in terms with the wolf, and even to control it on the full moons without any use of potions.

It had been only them in permanent residence, at least for now, at the Black house but then more came. Sev had escaped death and torture at the hands of Voldemort by the help of Draco, who really did not want to be a death eater and had begun to really hate Voldemort, the 'man' that his father had raised him to practically worship. It took seeing what Voldemort actually did to those around, even to his own followers, for Draco to see the madness. After Sev's escape, he had escaped notice until one fateful night when his father discovered his involvement. He was disowned, beaten, cursed, tortured, and more to the brink of death, then abandoned to die. Somehow, Sev had been able to find him and bring him to help to save his life. It took a really long time for him to heal, but he did heal, in both mind and body. More open to the ideas of muggleborns being able to offer more and to the truth that the 'pureblood' as he had thought of himself was going extinct fast. Inbreeding and intermarriage was destroying them, by every generation tending to be less powerful, and the more of the chance of defective genes, and will be their downfall.

Surprisingly, Draco and Hermoine had hit it off and eventually the other two boys gave in.

Draco, no longer a Malfoy, had been adopted and taken in by his cousin Sirius, and given the title of heir to the House of Black. Sirius had been delighted to finally have a 'son' he could teach and pass on everything it means to be a Black, so the House would not go extinct like so many others. But it would flourish, hopefully and with a bit of luck.

Sev, Remus, and Sirius all looked confused, no doubt wondering why they had been summoned by Dumbledore, who had mentally only told Sev that it was important and they were needed now. They were wondering what was making such a range of emotions in the room. Excitement, worry, happiness, and hope were all on everybody's faces.

"Severus, it is time."

With those words, Sev's face went white. He seemed at a loss of words for a moment and finally as able to stammer out, "Albus…"

"No, Severus, you are ready." He looked at the puzzled faces of that were gathered around. "If you would not tell them, I will."

Sev looked unsure for a moment, then nodded. "California." Dumbledore nodded. "I was born there, on the Hellmouth."

There was a gasp all around, as jaws were slackened. Dumbledore waited for a moment, then said, "Severus is a Hellmouth-born wizard. His power, the power that a Hellmouth-born wizard can use alone, will be essential. The creatures of the Hellmouth will never be able to sneak up on you with him present, since he has spent years developing that talent. You would be in good hands. He also, although he has not been there for a while, knows that area well and can guide you. And, he will be able to teach Dylan's brother what he knows, since Alexander as he is called now will be able to do them as well. One doesn't have to be born there to be able to do them, just has to have been raised there from a young age."

Sirius, whose face showed that he was thinking, blurted out, "You found Harry on the Hellmouth?"

"Yes, and it is essential that you leave soon to find him. Your questions will be answered later, I promise. Remus is going because he is a werewolf, and possesses the abilities to protect you better. Strength, werewolf instincts, along with magical ability. Sirius, you are one of our finest aurors to have come out of training. You are needed. Now, I would suggest that you pack. You must find your brother Dylan, find him before our enemies."


Xander, at the moment that the people that would change his life were all gathering in a somewhat small office discussing him, was strolling down the street alone. He was alone because after the Master was destroyed there had been little sign of any evil vampires. They still patrolled, even with Buffy in LA, because they were all, well those that were out of shape, undergoing training via Spike. Spike, after noticing that some of the group was out of shape and needed common skills, at least in his opinion, of defense and fighting tactics, had undertaken the mission of training them all. He had found a lovely abandoned gym, which was easily fixed up and remodeled. There, they started their training. Xander, after proving to Spike that he didn't need the training all the time, was able to escape the first sessions. All those of the group that proved that they didn't need the training were able to. Later, Spike wanted him there to help. He was enjoying the time alone at the moment.

He was slightly feeling sorry for the others, in Spike's evil little clutches. Because Spike, no matter how much he loved him as a brother and family, still had his flaws. He pushed for perfection in himself and others when it came to fighting, so none of his family would be hurt in anyway or killed. Spike pushed because he cared. But it still didn't make him want to be in his friends' shoes right now.

It was hard to feel sorry for them, because for the past couple of days he had been distracted. Something was coming. Something was going to change. He didn't know what, just that it will happen soon. And he was afraid. He was willing to admit that. It wasn't dangerous, exactly, just different. And familiar at the same time.

He had heard a whisper a few times when no one had been about. He had turned around expecting to see someone, and had seen no one. The whisper was getting stronger and there would be more to it. It was like someone was trying to talk to him, but was still working on it, or was too far away, or both. It was so familiar, so familiar like he should know the person that was doing the whispering well, but he didn't know them. It had started a few hours ago, and wouldn't stop. Every twenty minutes or so there would be another try, and it would last longer. He had decided to take a walk, to get away from everybody, so they wouldn't think he was crazy if he started talking to the air.

Speaking of, there it was again. A kinda buzzing in his mind, then a whisper. This time, though, it was clear.


He stopped in the middle of the street surprised. That was the first time it was an actual word. He had to respond to it, so he moved to a tree, and sat down. Then asked,

"Who are you?"

There was a sense of nervousness, excitement, and anxiety all at once. Then an answer that shook Xander to his core and made him grateful he had sat down because if he had been standing, he would of fallen and probably hurt himself.

"Dylan, your brother."