Chapter Six: Faith, Hope and Magic Tricks - Part One

August 31, 1998 – Across the street from Sunnydale High

Harry couldn't help but smile as he smoothed out the large blanket as best he could on the grassy field. The vibrant green of the grass contrasted sharply with the vivid blue sky above, making the scene look almost picturesque. He had really enjoyed the last few days, making small day trips to various spots around the western United States. Just the day before, he was able to visit most of the tourist sites in the Black Hills, and still be back for dinner at Buffy's house. Though he loathed traveling by portkey, and long-distance apparition was never any fun, he found himself getting better at stepping out of a floo. At least, he was no longer landing flat on his ass. His mood had certainly recovered from his call home last week.

The general consensus of all his friends' lecturing was that they were upset that Harry was once more getting himself into trouble, when his stated goal of his trip was to unwind and get away from excitement. They were also displeased he would be so flippant about the existence of demons. Molly wanted him to come home, scared about what sort of creatures were now likely to threaten Harry's well-being. Hermione and Ginny shared this opinion, and Harry was only able to appease all of them by promising daily letters, and floo calls at least once a week. Hermione also wanted Harry to send her a list, if not copies, of whatever demonology texts he could find.

Buffy had been a great help to him after the haranguing he received from his friends back home. She also needed a way to lift her spirits, and jumped at the chance to share some of her favorite pastimes with him; introducing him to the wonder of iced mocha lattes, and trips to the mall. He suspected the reason for the latter was that he would shrink down her more questionable purchases to get past her mom. She had also taken him out on patrol one night, but he wasn't planning on mentioning that in his letters.

When not spending time with Buffy, or 'doing the tourist thing,' Harry had been looking at apartments to rent short-term. While he was glad that the oft-overlooked mortality rate of Sunnydale kept rents low, it also made most renting agencies ask for six months in advance. That was something Harry, as much as he was enjoying his time in Sunnydale, was unsure of; how long he intended to stay.

Harry could not have explained why, if someone was to ask, but he felt he as though Sunnydale was where he needed to be at the moment. The nearest he could equate the feeling to was the night he took the Felix Felicis potion, and knew he had to head to Hagrid's.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw Buffy's friends approaching. He chuckled to himself when the two couples simultaneously released their hands from each other and put some space between them. Xander and Cordelia walked slightly ahead, their hands having separated just moments before. Xander, tall and lanky with a goofy grin, was clearly smitten with Cordelia, whose long, dark hair and sharp fashion sense made her stand out. Behind them, Willow and Oz walked more quietly, with Willow's red hair catching the sunlight and Oz's stoic demeanor giving little away.

'Trying too hard, guys,' he thought amusedly.

Buffy had given him the rundown of what happened between her and Angel on the bus ride to Sunnydale. He was sympathetic to what she had been through, but a part of him sensed there was something she was holding back. Some pain that still lingered. He recognized the signs because he had seen them in the mirror every day.

"Buffy, banned from campus, but not from our hearts," Xander called out, his voice filled with mock solemnity. "How are you? And what's for lunch?"

"Oh, I just threw a few things together," Buffy stated modestly, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

Cordelia took in the spread laid out before them. "When did you become Martha Stewart?" she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and mild irritation.

"First of all, Martha Stewart knows jack about fresh-cut Prosciutto," Buffy replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Yeah. Buffy was like magic," Harry quipped, earning a playful glare from Buffy. Truth be told, she had prepped the food, and he had just cast a few charms to make more helpings and keep it fresh.

Xander swallowed a bite he had taken from one of the Tupperware containers. "I don't believe Martha Stewart can slay, either."

"Oh, I hear she can," Oz interjected, his expression as deadpan as ever, "but she doesn't like to."

"Second of all," Buffy paused, opening a bottle of water, "I've had loads of free time since getting kicked out of school."

Willow gently patted Buffy on the shoulder. "I'm sure they'll let you back in," she said, her green eyes filled with hope.

"Don't you and your mom have a meeting with Snyder?" Xander asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Tomorrow," Buffy sighed, the weight of the world evident in her voice.

"You know, I could throw a couple of hexes his way," Harry offered, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Like the jelly-leg curse. He won't be able to stand, let alone walk."

"Wouldn't you get in trouble for that?" Willow asked worriedly, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Only if I'm caught," Harry commented half-seriously, a sly smile on his face.

"I appreciate the offer," Buffy said to Harry, her expression softening. "But, I just want to get my life back. Do normal stuff. Like go to school, with my friends, and save the world from unspeakable demons. You know, girlie stuff?"

"Well, on that note," Harry said, pulling out a red leather photo album, "Anybody want to see pictures from back home?"

The Scoobies immediately perked up at the prospect of learning more about Harry and the Wizarding World, especially Willow. When Harry opened the album, Cordelia was the first one to speak.

"Um… Do all your pictures move?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

Harry chuckled to himself. "There are a few muggle photos in here, but for the most part, yeah."

"So, how do the photos work? Is it like, it actually captures the moment? Does it duplicate them on a small scale? Ooh! Or, do the photos act as like a portal, and we're actually seeing into that moment of time. Of course, the fact they're looking out at us may suggest they're sentient about the fact they're just a photograph…" Willow looked over to Oz in mock annoyance, "You're supposed to stop me when I do that."

Oz grinned at his socially awkward girlfriend. "I like when you do that," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

Harry fought valiantly to suppress his laughter. 'It's like I'm seeing what Ron and Hermione's daughter would be like,' he thought to himself, before losing the fight and letting out a laugh.

The first page of the album had one of Harry's favorite photos of his parents. The day they got engaged, dancing in front of a fountain, with autumn leaves falling around them, forever smiling.

"They look so happy," Willow uttered, her voice tinged with melancholy.

Buffy looked up at Harry, her eyes searching his face. "You have your mother's eyes," she said softly.

Harry could not hold back the smile. He never tired of people making that comment. It comforted him that people could recognize his mother in him.

He flipped through the next few pages, filling the Scoobies in on the Marauders and their mischievous ways in school. Followed by photos of Harry in his quidditch gear, next to the rest of the Gryffindor team.

"Harry, I didn't know you were a jock," Xander teasingly said, a playful grin on his face.

"I don't know about 'jock,' I was the Seeker. My job was to catch a flying, golden ball," Harry explained aloud.

"Brooms! You guys played sports on brooms?" Willow exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Those are hideous uniforms," Cordelia offered in her unique way, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

"Provided good protection when you fell twenty feet off a broom," Harry laughed as he recalled some of his own tumbles on the field.

The next picture was one of Harry, Hermione, and Ron in full Hogwarts robes from their fifth year. This was the only picture of Colin's he asked the Creevey's if he could keep.

"Ooh. Are these your Willow and Xander," Buffy chimed in, nudging Harry with her elbow.

"Yeah. That's Hermione and Ron. My best mates since I was eleven." Harry pointed to each of them as he filled in the gathered group. "Hermione is the smartest person I know and can be quite scary at times. Ron was my first friend at Hogwarts. He was really good at keeping me grounded; treating me like an average bloke. He's been like a brother to me, even when he's been pretty thick."

Cordelia snorted aloud. "Wow. He really is your Xander."

"Hey," Xander gasped in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart.

Oz glanced at his watch as he saw some of the other students heading back into the building. "Sorry, Buffy, but we gotta head back inside."

Buffy and Willow's faces wore matching grimaces at the end of their time together. The two girls hugged each other warmly, exchanging farewells. Harry was packing the leftovers away as Xander and Oz disposed of the refuse in the nearby garbage can. Cordelia, in her typical fashion, supervised, her arms crossed over her chest.

"We'll see you tonight, Buff," Xander said, giving Buffy his own hug before heading back to class.

Harry had ulterior motives in bringing the photo album with him today. He knew, in less than twelve hours, his friends would be waking, and heading off to their respective schools… without him. He figured he could sate his new friends' curiosity and talk about his old friends at the same time.

Buffy released a proverbial breath she had been holding from the moment the album had come out. Harry had only shared the briefest of details about his past with her friends. She had worried one of them would ask a question that would bring up the fact that a lot of the people smiling in those pictures were no longer counted among the living. She worried, not because she thought Harry couldn't handle telling them, but because she knew the last thing he wanted was pity.

"Got any exciting plans for today?" Buffy asked, gathering the last of the Tupperware.

"I was going to look at a few more places for rent, then drop in at the Silver Dragon to call home."

"Ah. Your required check-in." Buffy smirked at the glare Harry sent her way for that jibe.

"For that," Harry grumbled, rising to his feet, "you can carry everything home yourself." Harry punctuated his statement with a raspberry to let Buffy know it was all in good fun.

### Sunnydale Motel

Harry flicked the light on in the small, dingy motel room. The walls were covered in faded wallpaper, and the carpet had seen better days. He had swung by to drop off his photo album before going to the first apartment of the day. He grabbed his bag from the closet and set it on the lumpy mattress. When he opened the top flap, ready to return the album, a glint of light caught his eye.

He reached in and pulled out the item that had reflected some light into Harry's eye: a set of crystal phials in a rack. Five of the phials were empty, but one full one remained. The purple potion inside of it was one Harry had not thought of in over a week; he hadn't really needed since meeting Buffy. The nightmares hadn't been as bad lately; he could actually make it through the night without jerking himself awake. But Harry figured there was no harm getting a refill of Dreamless Sleep potion soon.

A knock on the door brought Harry out of his reverie. He knew the daylight precluded the caller being a vampire, but Harry had his hand on his wand, just in case.

His posture relaxed as he took in the brunette on the other side of the door. She had a wild head of long, wavy hair. She was wearing a sleeveless tee, which showed off a tattoo on her right arm, a pair of leather pants (which Harry thought ill-advised given the weather), and a pair of boots. Her makeup was bordering on heavy around the eyes, but it worked for her. Harry's only negative thought came with a mental shudder when he equated her looks to a young Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Hey, I just checked in next door. Long shot, but do you have an ice bucket?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of frustration.

Harry thought for a second. "This place has an ice machine?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Damn, didn't even think to check," she muttered, slapping the doorframe in mild annoyance. Harry stood there as the brunette let her eyes take a good look at Harry. He would be the first to acknowledge he didn't understand much about women, but his experiences in sixth year with Romilda Vane at least made him aware of when someone was checking him out. "The name's Faith," she said flirtatiously, offering her hand.

Harry shook her hand gently. "Harry. Pleased to meet you."

"Man, with that accent and that wicked scar, you must really clean up with the ladies." A cocky smirk crossed Faith's lips, and a predatory gleam was in her eye.

"Not really," Harry blushed. "Pretty girls tend to be my Achilles' heel."

Faith's smirk seemed to grow more pronounced. "Maybe I could help you out with that?"

Harry's eyes grew wide as alarms started going off in his head. "A-Actually, I was just going… I was… I've got a couple of errands to run." He awkwardly stepped out past the wild-looking brunette, closing the door behind him. He couldn't recall if he had the key with him, but that's what Alohomora was for, wasn't it?

"Maybe we can talk more another time?" he offhandedly offered, trying to maintain some semblance of politeness.

"Sure," she said, taking the three steps to her door. "You know where to find me."

Harry attempted, and was certain he failed, to nonchalantly leave the balcony of the Sunnydale Motel. Strong was definitely a word he'd be attributing to his new neighbor.

### The Silver Dragon

Harry glanced at the clock as he entered the bar, finding it was ten minutes until midnight. The bar was dimly lit, with a warm, inviting ambiance. The wooden tables and bar counter gave the place a rustic feel, and the faint hum of conversation added to the cozy atmosphere.

"Has it been three days, already?" Gil jokingly asked upon seeing Harry's entrance. The bartender, with his salt-and-pepper hair and friendly demeanor, always made Harry feel welcome.

"Gil, don't you get any sleep?" Harry settled down onto a stool in front of the barman.

"I'm a night owl. It also helps I have someone else to cover the opening shift." Gil opened a Butterbeer, setting it in front of Harry.

Harry looked around at the other patrons seated around the bar at this hour. There was a witch that appeared to be in her late thirties, her hair in a tight bun and wearing what Harry assumed was her work clothes; she looked like she had just come from an office, and was enjoying a glass of wine. There was an elderly wizard that could have been mistaken for Merlin if he wasn't wearing a crimson polo and cargo shorts, sipping on a margarita. Next to the casual wear Merlin, a heavy-set wizard in a worn-looking muggle suit, was finishing the last of a tall mug of beer. There were a few other patrons, but Harry was confident he was the youngest person in the establishment.

"Gil," Harry asked, "just out of curiosity, how come I haven't seen any Aurors, at least uniformed ones, around town? I know what you said about the low permanent population, but I would think with all the tourists, there'd be a magical constable or something on standby."

Gil finished cleaning a wine glass before turning to respond. "We used to have one, but he was able to semi-retire when the Slayer showed up."

"You guys know about the Slayer?" Harry asked, surprised.

Gil chuckled. "Kind of hard not to notice a muggle girl patrolling the graveyards, and investigating the demon attacks around town. And while the statute-of-secrecy isn't quite as strictly enforced on Hellmouths as they are elsewhere, the townsfolk kind of agreed to let the Slayer take point on enforcement. Especially after she took care of that nasty piece of work, Madison, two years ago."

Harry remembered the details Buffy had given about that incident. Two years ago, a non-wand witch swapped bodies with her daughter and tried to kill her way onto the cheerleading squad. Buffy used a mirror to bounce a spell back on the mother, and she hadn't been seen since.

"Hold on, you said the statute-of-secrecy wasn't strictly enforced on Hellmouths?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Well, the monitoring charms used for detecting accidental magic can't tell the difference between a spell cast by a wizard, a wicca, or a demon. If they deployed those around a Hellmouth, the alarms would never stop ringing."

Harry nodded in understanding. "And I imagine non-wand magic doesn't technically fall under their jurisdiction?"

Gil tapped a finger on the tip of his nose, confirming Harry's suspicion.

"So, it's kind of the Wild West, here, then?" Harry said, half-joking.

"With the Slayer acting as town Marshall," Gil confirmed, opening a butterbeer for himself. "Happy days."

Gil clinked his bottle against Harry's before taking a deep chug.

### September 1, 1998. The Burrow

Hermione sat in the living room of the Burrow, flanked on either side by a member of the Weasley family. To her left, Ginny was fuming, her gaze never leaving the fireplace. Her fiery red hair seemed to blaze even brighter against her pale skin, her brown eyes narrowed in frustration. On her right, Ron was slowly but surely making his way through a bowl of Fruit Loops. His bedhead was more pronounced than usual, and his freckled face looked tired but determined. Hermione had to chuckle at the fact that, of all the bits of Muggle culture she had introduced to Ron, breakfast cereals had been the bit he had taken to quickest.

The sound of his spoon clinking against the bowl and the crunch of his chewing of the cereal joined the ticking of the clock on the mantle, and Ginny drumming her fingers on her packed trunk as the only noise in the room. They were all sitting in silence, waiting for Harry's promised floo call.

"Five galleons he's stumbled across someone wanting to destroy the world," Ron tossed out between mouthfuls of cereal, a mischievous grin on his face.

"That's a sucker's bet, Ronald," Hermione retorted, a grin forming at the corner of her lips.

Ginny's expression remained as stern and angry as it had been before. "He should be here, with us," she said, her voice tight with barely concealed anger.

Hermione did agree with Ginny, for the most part. Harry should be there with all of them. The last few months had been hard for all of them, and the only way she had been able to carry on was with everyone's support. Harry had always been stubborn, and usually bottled everything up, so she was hopeful that getting away from Magical Britain would put things in perspective for Harry; allow him to find some kind of peace. Instead, he stumbled upon another war in the shadows and seemed prepared to start the same cycle over again.

It was at that moment that the fire flared green, and the face of their topic of conversation appeared.

"Hi, guys," exclaimed Harry, his face looking tired but happy. "Glad you're already up. How have the last few days been treating you?"

Ginny's expression softened as she kneeled down closer to the fire. Hermione and Ron joined her, once Ron set his bowl down.

"We've been alright," Ginny stated calmly. "We're going to head for King's Cross as soon as we're done. Ron has to report for Auror training before the Express leaves."

Harry's floating head nodded. "Give them hell, Ron."

"You know it, mate," chuckled Ron, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Have you been keeping safe, Harry?" Hermione asked, her concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I've been keeping my head down. No demons, just tourists. Take your pick which one is more frightening," Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ginny was the only one who did not join in the laughter. She was struggling to keep a veneer of calm when all she wanted to do was scream, or cry, or both.

"Are you coming home soon?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Harry looked over at Ginny. It was clear to Hermione he was struggling to pick his words carefully.

"There's still some information I'm hoping to find. I hope to have that before Halloween," Harry paused at this. "We are still on for Halloween, right?"

"Of course we are, Harry," Hermione stated with finality. "We'll be there for you, no matter what."

Harry nodded again with a relieved smile on his face. Ron took the opportunity to jump in.

"Just so Hermione doesn't have to ask; come across any more interesting books, yet?" Hermione slapped Ron's shoulder, but did not retract the question.

"If all goes well, I'll get to see some of Mr. Giles' collection tomorrow."

"Mr. Giles?" Hermione asked. "That's Buffy's Watcher, right?"

"The one who knew about you being called Boy-Who-Lived, and all that?" Ron followed up.

"That's the one. Of course, the fact they've had to deal with magic users before, doesn't surprise me he's aware of the Wizarding World."

"Might be a good idea to find out how much he knows," suggested Ron. "Give us a good idea how much attention these Watchers are giving us."

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all looked at Ron like he had grown a second head.

"What? I can't think like an Auror?" Ron demanded of the surprised group.

"Sorry," Harry said, shaking off his surprise. "I'll ask him, but the Scoobies assure me Giles is a pretty stand-up guy."

"'Scoobies'," Ginny asked aloud.

"That's what Buffy's friends call themselves." Harry's explanation got a chuckle out of Hermione.

The blank expressions on the Weasleys' faces made her elaborate for them.

"It's from a Muggle cartoon show called 'Scooby-Doo.' It's about a bunch of teenage detectives and their dog driving around, solving mysteries."

Ron merely nodded, feigning understanding. Ginny took a deep breath, her frustration barely held in check.

"I'm going to double-check my room before we go. Take care, Harry. Be safe. Come home soon," she said, her voice cracking slightly at the end.

"I promise, Ginny," Harry said solemnly, his green eyes filled with regret.

Once Ginny left the room, Ron rose to follow her. "I'll check on her. Talk to you later, mate."

"Thanks. Talk to you later, Ron," Harry shouted from the floo.

Hermione watched the Weasley siblings retreat up the stairs before leaning closer to the floo. "Harry, I don't want to pry, but how are your…prescriptions holding up?"

Harry actually grinned at this question. "Haven't had to take a dose since I got to Sunnydale. Still got one left."

Hermione was thankful that Harry was at least able to get some natural sleep again.

"I'm glad," Hermione stated.

Harry turned nervously toward the stairs Ginny had gone up. "At least she didn't scream this time."

"She's worried," Hermione countered gently.

"You're not screaming."

"I resigned myself to the fact you do things like this long ago," Hermione said haughtily. Her smirk let Harry know she was joking.

Hermione asked a question that had been on her mind since Harry said something earlier.

"Harry, what's this information you're looking for?"

Harry hesitated in his answer. "Something that might help us both out."

"Which is?" Hermione pressed, her curiosity piqued.

Harry let out a long sigh. "If there's a way to live in both the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds."

**End Chapter 6 - Part 1**