For this story:

*Spike is alive. Buffy found out he resurrected and didn't tell anyone, and was Not Happy. As a result, he is currently traveling with Xander, who does not stay in one place more than two months at a time.

*I am blatantly ignoring anything that happened in books 6 and 7 of Harry Potter. Rowling killed off too many of my favorite characters in those books.

*I'm going to be playing fast and loose with timelines. The BTVS part is post-Chosen. For Harry Potter, well…Harry's eighteen, and the year in my story is 2006.

Disclaimer: I do not own BTVS or Harry Potter; those honors go to Joss Whedon and JK Rowling, respectively. I wish I had the gift of imagination that those two have.

Chapter 1: Introductions and Reunions

"If you don't get that Fyarl goop off the carpet, I'm going to eviscerate you, you little bastard!" an aggravated voice screeched.

Harry's eyes widened, and he took a hurried step away from the house.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Welcome to the Slayers and Watchers International Council London safe house, Harry." The werewolf mounted the steps of the large town house, pausing when he realized Harry hadn't moved. "It's alright, cub. They're loud and rough, but they're safe." He knocked sharply on the door.

"I'll get it!" Four or five voices chorused, and a rush of footsteps sounded, before the door was flung open, revealing several teenage girls.

Remus blinked, then smiled politely. "Good evening, ladies. I'm Remus Lupin."

"Oh, Mr. Giles' friend!"

"He told us you were coming."

"Are you a werewolf?"

"It's cool if you are, so long's you eat anyone. Oz drops by all the time."

"Who's he? Is that a baby? Is it a boy or a girl?"

Remus' polite smile warmed a little at the rapidfire, but openly friendly chatter. "Yes, I am a werewolf. This is my unofficial godson, Harry, and the baby he's holding is his daughter, Mirabel."

"Ladies, how's about we clear the doorway?" a new voice interrupted.

"'Kay, Xander," the girls chorused, and scooted out of the way of a tall, well-built young man with messy shoulder-length brown hair and an eyepatch.

The young man swung the door fully open, then stood to one side, waiting quietly.

"Ah yes, the vampire rule," Remus murmured. "Harry, c'mon." Harry hesitantly followed his adopted godfather through the door, casting a wary glance at the one-eyed man.

Once through the doorway, Harry found himself surrounded by giggling girls who all wanted a better look at the baby in his arms. Harry hastily edged away toward his godfather as his instincts shrieked at him. The war in the Wizarding World had honed his fight-or-flight reaction to a razor edge; intellectually, Harry knew the girls meant no harm, but he could feel the power of the Slayer in all of them, and his magic was telling him to run, or lash out. He didn't want to hurt the people who'd given them sanctuary.

Remus wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, drawing him close. The werewolf's magical aura wrapped around Harry, and the smaller wizard breathed a little easier as the odd contradiction of wild wolf and deep-seated tranquility permeated Harry's tension.

"Follow me, gentlemen, and I'll show you to Giles' office," the one-eyed man said kindly, shooting Harry a sympathetic look once the teenagers had cleared out. "Sorry 'bout the mob. We don't get a lot of visitors, so the girls tend to pounce whenever one shows up."

Harry cleared his throat. "Ah, th-that's alright," he said softly. "Umm…" Harry drew in a deep breath. "I have PTSD," he blurted out. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but my reflexes…"

The man nodded, and Harry was relieved to see understanding without pity. "You're a wizard, right? So my girls would be ducking more than just fists or knives."

"Yes," Harry said hoarsely as they climbed a set of stairs to the second floor of the house, turned a corner, and began mounting another set of steps.

"That's okay. I'm assuming you can ward whatever room we give you?" At Harry's nod he continued, "I'll let the girls know not to crowd you or sneak up behind you. Cool?"

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

They stepped onto the third floor, and the man paused. "I'm Xander Harris, and you don't have to thank me for anything," he said firmly.

Harry looked into the man's steady brown eye, and felt something tight uncoil within him. Long accustomed to paying sharp attention to his instincts, Harry gave the man a small, but real, smile.

HPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAH

Xander's breath caught at the sudden beauty of that smile. It was fleeting, and the wariness never left the wizard's eyes, but Xander was abruptly made aware that Harry Potter was extremely attractive.

Two years in Africa had left Xander – finally – comfortable in his own skin. Part of that comfort came from acknowledging that he was sometimes attracted to males, although he hadn't actually found that many (a grand total of three), still tending far more towards the female persuasion. Now, though…Catching a glimpse of Harry's tight bottom as he and Lupin entered Giles' office, Xander could safely say to himself that he wouldn't mind getting to know the wizard better.

Xander shook his head and leaned against the wall beside the closed door. He knew trauma when he saw it, having experienced plenty of it himself, and Harry had warned him himself. Gaining the wizard's friendship would most likely be a long and delicate process, and Xander did not do delicate well. But something was pulling Xander to the wizard; his protective instincts were reacting – almost the same way they did when one of his girls were hurt, but different somehow.

His gaze lifted from the floor when he heard footsteps. He grinned at the person who approached; the person grinned back before entering the office.

Xander's grin widened when he heard a whoop of joy: "Sirius!"