Dark Destinies

Disclaimer: Most characters featured in this story are not of my creation. They belong to their respective creators, J.K. Rowling, Joss Whedon, and any and all parties related to Bloombury Publishing, Scholastic Inc., AOL/Time-Warner, Fox, and Mutant Enemy. Grrrr, arrgh.

Chapter 11

Rupert Giles saw very little of Harry Potter in the ensuing years after Voldemort's defeat.  Every July, he would send birthday presents to Harry.  Every Christmas, he sent Harry a book.  Rupert always suspected that Harry never received any of these gifts.  He began to wonder if allowing Harry to stay with the Dursleys was really a good idea after all.  Not only were Vernon and Petunia thoroughly Muggle in every way, they had taught their son, Dudley, the same closed-minded ideas.

Eight years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, Rupert received a new posting from the Council.  He was to travel to California.  The Slayer had been located there and was living near the Hellmouth.  He was to be her Watcher.  With little hesitation, he set out for Number 4 Privet Drive.  He rang the doorbell, shifting uneasily from foot to foot and pondering what to say once the door opened.

Petunia's sharp beak of a nose poked out of the doorway.  "Oh...it's you," she said, not attempting to hide her disgust.  She did not believe that this was the same Rupie who used to play with her all the time.  This Rupert Giles was as mad as...well...Lily and James were.  "What do you want?"

"Petunia," Rupert said. "'I'd like to see Harry, if you don't mind."

"He's at school," Petunia said.

"But, erm...it's Sunday." Rupert replied.  "Please, I must...I must see him...I'm relocating, to America.  I may never see him again.  It's...It won't take long."

"No."

"Petunia, don't be unreasonable!  He doesn't even have to know that I'm related to him.  I just need to see him.  I've been assigned to the Slayer.  The place I'm going to lies right on the Hellmouth.  It could be very dangerous!  I could...I might not survive."

"Why do you insist on talking about such nonsense?" Petunia muttered. "The 'Hellmouth'?  The 'Slayer'.  Fairy tales, useless fairy tales!"

"Petunia," said Rupert desperately.  "Please, if I don't see him again..."

"Leave.  Never come here again.  He mustn't know.  He'll never know his past!" Petunia said.

"And what will happen when he receives his letter from Hogwarts, hmmm?  You know his name has been on their lists since the day he was born.  Are you going to lock him up here?  You can't...they won't let you."

"Vernon will think of something.  He always does," Petunia said.  "Now, Rupert, please leave before I shall have to call the police."

"Petunia," Rupert sighed.  "Fine...just, take care of Harry.  I promised Lily and..."

"Goodbye, Rupert," Petunia said quietly as she shut the door.

Rupert stood at the front door of the house for a long while, wondering if Harry was actually in there.  He then turned and walked away, already planning out what he needed to take with him to America.

The Slayer was not what Rupert expected at all.  She was headstrong, stubborn, and often acted rashly.  Rupert realized that he could not rely on the Slayers Handbook for much of anything.  It was also troubling that the Slayer had garnered a close circle of friends.  In all recorded history, the Slayer had worked alone, under the supervision of her Watcher.  But Rupert soon learned about the power of friendship, and how the Slayer was actually made stronger by the support she received from all who knew her.

When Buffy sacrificed herself in order to save the world from Glory, Rupert knew that there was nothing linking him to America.  Anya ran the magic Box better than even he could; Willow and Tara were powerful enough in witchcraft to handle any sort of problem that still lingered around the Hellmouth.  And even that idiot Xander had grown up enough to learn some responsibility.  With Joyce gone as well...Sunnydale did not need its Watcher anymore.

Rupert moved back to London and managed to find a small flat similar to the one he'd left when he moved to America.  He meant to tie up loose ends here, try to get back in good graces with the Council, perhaps work under them again.

And then the call came.

Willow had done an unspeakable act.  She had actually called Buffy back from the dead.

Rupert did not approve of that.  Delving into the forces of life and death meant succumbing to the Darkness sooner or later.  He knew it, saw it personally, experienced it.  He returned because he felt he had to protect Buffy once more.

Then he realized that he had to leave.

"I've taught you all I can about being a Slayer," Rupert told Buffy.  "And your mother taught you what you needed to know about life. You...you're not going to trust that until you're forced to stand alone."

"But why now?" Buffy asked.  "Now that you know where I've been, what I'm going through?"

"Now more than ever," Rupert replied.  "The temptation to give up is going to be overwhelming, and I can't let..."

"So I won't! No giving up. You can be here, and I can still be strong."

"Buffy, I've thought this over...and over. I believe it's the right thing to do."

"You're wrong."  Buffy stormed out of the room, leaving Rupert alone with his thoughts.  There was something else he had to do.  A promise he had to keep.  Buffy was an adult, fully capable of taking care of herself, even if she didn't think she was ready.  Rupert knew she was.  And yet...there were...others...

The Hogwarts Express chugged along the northern countryside, carrying its magically-gifted students towards the famouse school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Harry and Ron, who had met each other at King's Cross, once again shared a compartment together.  The rest of the fifth years sat in nearby cars, happily catching up on the gossip they had missed out on during the summer.

"Who d'you think'll be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry shrugged.  "No one can be as bad as that faker, Crouch..."

Ron winced, remembering the Mad-Eye Moody incident and not wanting to have something as bad as what happened during the Triwizard Tournament happen again.

"I heard that he's a Muggle," Hermione's head popped into the compartment.

"Well, no one asked you!" said Ron.

"It's all alright.  Come on in, Hermione," Harry said, gesturing over to the girl.  "You said that he's a Muggle?"

"That's what everyone on the train's been saying," Hermione said.  "He's a Muggle and he's dressed in Muggle clothes.  Nothing magical about him.  He doesn't have a wand or anything.  He's in the teachers' car right now."

"Perhaps he's an Auror who's lived among Muggles so long that he's adopted their ways," Harry suggested.

"A wizard has to have a wand," Ron said.  "Always..."

"--ry!  Harry!  Harry!" Neville Longbottom shouted, searching every car on the train for Harry Potter.  "Oh, there you are, Harry!  Look, that new Muggle teacher...he wants to meet you!  Oh, and have you seen Trevor?  I've lost him again..." he added sheepishly.  "Along with my wand..."

"Famous even in the Muggle world, eh Harry?" Ron grinned.

Harry remembered a time not too long ago when Ron was so jealous of Harry's fame that he wouldn't even speak to him.  Harry was glad that those times were over.  "Um, alright..." Harry said, getting up.

Harry made his way towards the teachers' car, while everyone he passed greeted him by name.  He finally managed to get into the teachers' car.  There weren't that many professors seated there, since many Hogwarts instructors lived at the school during the summer or just took other means of transportation instead.  He searched the car for an unfamiliar face, and it didn't take long to find the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.  He was indeed, dressed in Muggle clothes, all in tweed like a proper British professor.  Harry thought that the man wouldn't have looked out of place at Oxford.  Harry approached the seated man, clearing his throat, since the man seemed to be preoccupied with the passing scenery outside.

"Hmmmm, oh!" the man grinned as he got up.  "You...you look so much like your father..."

Harry's eyes brightened.  "You knew my father?"

"Quite well," the man said.  "But you have your mother's eyes...I knew Lily Potter very very well," the man said wistfully.  He extended his hand.  "I am Rupert Giles, and I'm your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry shook the man's hand.  "Professor Giles?"

"Just...Giles...wll be fine," the man said.

Harry nodded.  He clearly liked this new teacher.  "Giles, how did you know my parents?  You're a Muggle..."

"Harry," Giles said.  "Professor Dumbledore thinks that the time is right for you to know a few things more about your past.  Please, sit," Giles said, pointing to the seat beside his as he sat down.

"What can you tell me?" Harry asked as he settled down beside Giles.

"Things about your mother, mostly," Giles said.  "And a few things about you as well.  Along with some things you might not know about  Muggles." Giles grinned at Harry's surprised expression.  "You know Harry, not all of us Muggles are blind to the world of magic..."