Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Harry Potter, and I'm actually glad I don't. If I did, writing fanfics wouldn't be any fun. This story is set after the Glee kids win sectionals in November. Voldemort died a few months ago, in June. Other than the fact that these events take place in 2009 and 1997 respectively, I will try to keep this as canon as possible so that the Harry Potter epilogue can take place as planned. That doesn't mean I'm not going to go crazy with this.
~*~*~*~
Every workday was a strain for Emma. Not that she didn't enjoy her job. She liked helping children, especially the ones in Glee club. Her heart started beating faster every time she walked down to the chorus room, where she was now the co-head of Glee. She loved the rush of happiness she felt whenever she opened the door and the love of her life, William Schuester, smiled back at her. School was the only place she could see Will for now – his wife had asked him not to "officially begin" his relationship with Emma until after the divorce was finalized – so she wouldn't give up that hour and a half after school for anything.
Still, it was annoying to have to clean everything by hand or by toothbrush, and she was always relieved when she arrived home and was able to whip out her wand instead. Here, she didn't need to keep any secrets, or use a ridiculous last name like Pillsbury so the Death Eaters wouldn't find her. At home, she was allowed to be herself, one hundred percent – Emma Weasley.
Emma had just received her PhD as a Doctor of Muggleology. She had always been fascinated with the Muggle world and their ability to solve problems without magic. For centuries, doctors of muggleology had been scouting the Muggle world, searching for Muggle technology that could be reproduced with magic. Usually the magical versions were a bit primitive, like the radio, but Emma hoped to be the first to reproduce a modern technological device. At first, she had been unsure. She had been thinking about computers for a while, but had finally decided they were much too complicated. However, her recent introduction to Muggle music had finally inspired her – the iPod.
A love of Muggles ran in the family.
~*~*~*~
Emma walked in the door, pulled out her wand, and pointed it at herself.
"Tergeo!" Instantly, every germ and speck of dirt was siphoned off her body. Humming her favorite Muggle song, "I Could Have Danced All Night," she walked into the kitchen, snapped on a pair of plastic gloves, and began to make a PB&J. She was interrupted by a tapping on her window. She turned around and recognized Pigwideon, her little cousin Ron's owl. She couldn't let him into the house – he had just flown from England and was covered in germs – but, after summoning the letter, she brought a bowl of water and owl treats outside and let him catch his breath. As Pig gobbled up his owl treats, Emma opened her letter. It was not, in fact, from Ron, but rather from his mother. It read:
Dear Emma,
I'm so sorry to trouble you like this, but I desperately need your help. See, there are seven teenagers that need to leave the continent as soon as possible. They all played a huge part in bringing about You-Know-Who's death, and they need to stay safe from the Death Eaters. They've been hiding primarily in Europe, but it hasn't been working, and the Death Eaters would never think to look for them at a Muggle school in the United States. There are two of my own children, two who I consider my children, two close family friends, and one who I absolutely cannot stand, but who has to be included in the group for his own safety. Come to the Burrow immediately, please.
-Auntie Molly
Emma closed her eyes, and stepped into darkness. When she recovered from the vacuuming feel of Apparation, she found herself in the quaint little house where she had spent all her childhood summers. She smiled at her aunt.
"Of course they can stay, but I can't keep them all in my house, only Ron and Ginny. Oh, and they will have to join the Glee club so I can keep an eye on them, okay?"
Molly merely smiled, then shouted through the door, "Time to go!"
There was a clattering on the staircase, and six children appeared. Leading the group were Ron, a gangly redheaded boy with freckles sprayed across his nose, and his sister Ginny, a seventeen-year-old beauty with deep auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes. Holding Ginny's hand was a skinny boy with messy black hair, green eyes, and – yes, there was the scar. Ron had his arm around an extraordinarily average-looking girl with bushy brown hair and a big smile. Standing slightly behind was a strange looking girl whose waist-length dirty blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and blonde eyebrows gave her a perpetually surprised look. Next to the surprised girl was a rather tall and extremely nerdy looking boy. Ron and Ginny ran forward with huge grins on their faces and started interrogating her about her summer. After they had calmed down, the bushy-haired girl strode forward and offered her hand. Emma automatically shied back. The girl looked offended. Ron stepped in to smooth the situation.
"Oh, it's not you, Herms. She's quite a germaphobe. She doesn't really like being touched."
The girl looked reassured and introduced herself. "Hi, Emma, I'm Hermione Granger." Not knowing what to do, she did an odd sort of curtsy and backed away, looking embarrassed. Emma looked at the black-haired boy. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"
Harry smirked. "Good observation. Nice to meet you."
The blonde girl bounded up to Emma, her blue eyes unblinking and wide as saucers, somewhat like Emma's own.
"You know, if you don't like being touched, it's probably the fault of the Xlingfering Minkeys. They create invisible force fields out of peoples' auras, so people obviously become very uncomfortable when those force fields are broken."
Emma laughed. "You must be Luna. Ron told me about you."
Luna nodded seriously. "I expect he would. He thinks I'm very strange, you know. I make for polite dinner conversation."
Emma didn't really know what to say to that. Luckily, she was spared the necessity of answering by the nerdy boy. He came up and introduced himself as Neville.
"Okay, everyone, let's get ready to apparate!" Emma turned around, and then paused. "Where's the seventh?"
Ginny wordlessly pointed upstairs. Emma looked at her uncertainly, and then started climbing. The door on the third floor landing was open. She walked in to find a breathtakingly handsome – but incredibly surly – blond boy lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Without even looking at her, he said, "I'm not going."
"Why not?"
The blond swung himself up and looked at Emma in disbelief. "Why not? This is why not!" He rolled up his left sleeve and held out his arm to her. It was branded with a black tattoo… a skull with a serpentine tongue.
Emma gasped. "Is that… "
He unrolled his sleeve, looking disgusted. "Of course it is. I'm a Malfoy. I'm no prissy like Potter and his gang. Just because I changed sides to save my own sorry skin during the war, the Death Eaters want me dead." He threw a random punch into the air. "And now, no matter where I go, this stupid Dark Mark provides a link for those stupid Death Eaters to find me and these STUPID people I have to associate with! You realize I have to rely on Potter for protection now. I won't have it anymore. I'm not going and that's final." He crossed his arms and stared out the window. "Besides," he said his voice a lot softer. "I wouldn't want those guys to get killed just for harboring a traitor in their midst." His voice cracked, and Emma, despite the fact that this boy probably hadn't taken a shower in three days, felt an urge to physically comfort him somehow. Instead, she let him cry. When he was all done, she said gently, "I think we'll be able to handle ourselves. Your power will be hidden by all the non-magic of the Muggles, and should my services provide necessary, Defense Against the Dark Arts was my second best subject behind Muggle Studies. If we are attacked, we'll need your expertise in spell casting. Besides, you won't be living with the other six. I'll be finding separate places for all of you to stay."
Malfoy looked up. "I guess I could come… If you really needed me to…"
"There's just one thing."
"Yeah?"
"Are you a good singer?"