***Ever feel the urge to grab all my muses and force them to concentrate or
cooperate with each other? I do, because here we go again.***
Title: Little White Lies
Author: eena_angel2001
Email: eena_angel@hotmail.com or igrewal@sfu.ca
Rating: PG-13 to R
Category: HP/BTVS
Pairing: Willow/Harry
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the HP verse, and Joss Whedon owns the BTVS.
Spoilers: Up to Season Six for BTVS, and Goblet of Fire for HP.
Summary: What if the events after the Triwizard Contest didn't go down quite like we all thought . . .
Author Notes: Okay, I watched High Crimes this weekend, and now the idea won't leave me alone. And its not the most convenient time because I have finals. So I figure that I can get out the first parts and everything will be okay. Okay, onto the actual notes section.
I'm going to be changing a lot of things, and it will be explained along the way. But it is to be noted that this takes place quite a few years after the Goblet of Fire. Well, nine years to be exact. And this is going to be very AU, as you will be able to tell.
Prologue
She never thought she could feel like this again. It was hard for her to believe that it would ever happen, especially not after Tara. Tara should have been the end for her, the one love of her life. But she wasn't, and that's because Tara wouldn't have wanted it that way. Tara would have wanted her to move on, and eventually, she did.
She didn't see it, well him, coming. Literally. She had been rather involved in reading her latest exam, a little excited to be done with another semester. She hadn't been really watching where she had been going. It was a bright day on the campus, warm despite the fact that it was winter, and the sounds of her feet slapping on the pavement had been a nice little rhythm for her preoccupied mind. She had almost made it to her car, rounding a corner and slamming right into someone.
After falling rather painfully on her butt, she had turned irritated green eyes upwards. And she saw him. Tall, with unkempt black hair and worried green eyes, bending down to help her to her feet. She had been flustered by her immediate reaction of attraction to him, dazedly staring at him while all this happened. Finally, once on her feet again, she tuned in, listening to his words for the first time.
He sounded so incredibly guilty, eyes searching her for any sign of injury. She listened to his voice, a seductive British accent that almost knocked her on her butt again. She had been so entranced by his mouth that she was startled when he stopped talking. There was a brief awkward moment when they both realized what she had been doing before casual introductions were made.
His name was William Prongs and he was from Britain, though he didn't much like to talk about that. He didn't like much to talk about home. He only said once that his parents died while he was young and things had been bad for him. Really bad for him. So bad that the light in his eyes would dim at the mention of Britain. It was heartbreaking to see.
She had been flustered to the point of an incoherent babble. After rambling like an idiot for about three minutes, she tried to beat a hasty retreat. But he followed her to her car, handing her a notebook she had dropped, with his number on the inside cover. It made her blush something awful and she barely had time to scrawl her own number on his hand before she had to get out of there. The last thing she had seen pulling out of the parking space was his smiling face, and an offhand wave he offered.
She floated for the rest of the day, so much so Buffy had demanded to know what happened. The story came out, unwillingly mind you, but she stood no real chance against the Summers double team. Both sisters were ecstatic, not leaving her alone for the entire day until she submitted to their will and called him.
They went out on their first date that weekend. A nice simple dinner accompanied by a movie. She had lit up at the theatre, seeing that Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets was playing. But he had paled at the sight of the poster and she held her tongue. Must not be his cup of tea, so they went and saw the new James Bond movie instead. Not really her cup of tea, but she spent the hours clutching his hand at every loud explosion. That made up for everything.
They made it back to the house. She rolled her eyes when she saw the shadows of both Summers trying to hide at the front window. He had been amused too, blushing under the scruntiny. They had parted rather quickly, but not before he brushed his lips across hers in the barest of kisses. It made her want to melt. She was in fact surprised that she didn't, somehow making it inside that night on her own accord.
And that's how it started. One date turned into two, which turned into three, which kept getting higher and higher until they were a couple. Eight months of pure bliss with this strange man with his beautiful green eyes, unkempt hair, and charming voice. Eight months in which he learned everything about her, and that meant everything. He learned of everything that went bump in the night, her gradual descent into the dark arts, and her struggle to reclaim herself. He learned all about it, and he was wonderful with it. Accepting everything she had to reveal with a smile and declaration of love.
She thought it was perfect. She thought that this would be the one to work, after every other relationship she had been through. She dreamed of a white wedding followed by a house on the hill with three children running about it. She thought it would happen inevitably because she believed they had no secrets to keep from each other. She thought she knew all she had to about him, everything that would ever matter.
She was wrong.
*****
Part One
"You know this qualifies as slave labour?"
Willow Rosenburg laughed, shaking her head as she smiled at her boyfriend Bill.
"You're just a grump," she replied primly, turning back around to pay the cashier. "You really should just get with the spirit of the season already and stop complaining. Besides, it's your own fault for putting all the shopping off until now."
"Yeah, but there were so many other more entertaining things to be done in those times," he pouted in response, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. Willow blushed, remembering some of those things in particular. She paid the register, ignoring Bill's attempts to draw her in for conversation. She was not talking about those things with him ni public.
"This is quite insane," he continued, once they had left the shop. He haphazardly swung all his bags onto one arm, putting the other around the redhead's slender shoulders and drawing her in closer.
"I don't understand why we have to get everyone presents separately," he frowned. "I mean, one for each from the two of us should suffice."
"You're just saying that because you have no idea about what to get everyone," Willow needled him, grinning at him teasingly. "You just want to take credit for everything I think up."
"Well, I thought that came with the territory," he returned good- naturedly, steering her towards their car. He opened the latch, taking all the bags and throwing them into the trunk without notice. He straightened, noticing Willow staring at him amusedly.
"Do you want to break them before we even hand them out?" she giggled, motioning to the rather untidy pile of bags in their trunk. He blushed, making a big show of straightening the bags and sighing.
"Nothing is ever good enough for you," he whined. "Always want the best."
"Not true," she protested with an impish smile. "I settled for you didn't I?"
He gave a mock growl at that, abruptly pulling her in for a hug.
"Well, joke's on you," he chuckled, nuzzling her cheek. "Because I, the imperfect, get to reap the benefits."
She gave a series of delighted giggles, consentingly giving into his demand for a kiss. He pulled her tight against himself, feeling never more complete in his entire life. He had her, and that's all he ever really needed.
She pulled away after a bit, poking him in the stomach.
"We have to get to Buffy's house," she reminded him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "And we need to drop this off at the apartment first. Dawn isn't above sneaking out to the car while we converse on possible apocalypses."
He huffed, reluctantly letting her go with a pout. She could only laugh at his antics, giving his another quick kiss before making her way to the passenger seat. He followed, going to the driver's side.
The drive home was spent teasing and the such, as they usually did. They quickly unloaded their purchases at their apartment, scuttling back into the car to make the drive to Buffy's. That ride was one of more companionable silence, him holding onto to her with his right hand while he drove. She looked out the window, giving him the occasional happy smile when he squeezed her hand.
It was upon their arrival at Buffy's that he felt it. The strangest tinge of magic on the air. He knew from instinct it wasn't the kind of magic that they usually practiced on the Hellmouth. His eyes went to the door, noting that it was slightly ajar. Willow noticed this at the same time, raising in her seat. He looked her way, noting the worry etched there.
Her hand was on the handle before he could stop her.
"Willow! No!"
But she was already sprinting up the porch steps, a stake in hand as she pushed the front door open. He had no choice but to follow, shaking his head at the devastation he saw inside.
"Dawn! Buffy!" he heard Willow declare. He turned seeing his girlfriend run to her friends, trussed up in the corner. He narrowed his gaze. He didn't know too many things that could subdue a Slayer to tie her up. Not physically anyway.
Buffy was making some muffled shrieks. He met her blue eyes, noticing the way she was frantically jerking her head his way. He caught on, though not fast enough. He felt the hands on his back, forcing him to the ground. He heard Willow screaming, watching as some of the intruders made to neutralize the witch before she could get a spell off. Her eyes went to his and he tried to communicate calm to her.
"Just stay down," he whispered, grimacing as someone shoved his head down. He felt the ropes coming onto his hands, not really listening to the voices yelling at him from above.
"Harry Potter, you're coming with us!"
*****
Title: Little White Lies
Author: eena_angel2001
Email: eena_angel@hotmail.com or igrewal@sfu.ca
Rating: PG-13 to R
Category: HP/BTVS
Pairing: Willow/Harry
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the HP verse, and Joss Whedon owns the BTVS.
Spoilers: Up to Season Six for BTVS, and Goblet of Fire for HP.
Summary: What if the events after the Triwizard Contest didn't go down quite like we all thought . . .
Author Notes: Okay, I watched High Crimes this weekend, and now the idea won't leave me alone. And its not the most convenient time because I have finals. So I figure that I can get out the first parts and everything will be okay. Okay, onto the actual notes section.
I'm going to be changing a lot of things, and it will be explained along the way. But it is to be noted that this takes place quite a few years after the Goblet of Fire. Well, nine years to be exact. And this is going to be very AU, as you will be able to tell.
Prologue
She never thought she could feel like this again. It was hard for her to believe that it would ever happen, especially not after Tara. Tara should have been the end for her, the one love of her life. But she wasn't, and that's because Tara wouldn't have wanted it that way. Tara would have wanted her to move on, and eventually, she did.
She didn't see it, well him, coming. Literally. She had been rather involved in reading her latest exam, a little excited to be done with another semester. She hadn't been really watching where she had been going. It was a bright day on the campus, warm despite the fact that it was winter, and the sounds of her feet slapping on the pavement had been a nice little rhythm for her preoccupied mind. She had almost made it to her car, rounding a corner and slamming right into someone.
After falling rather painfully on her butt, she had turned irritated green eyes upwards. And she saw him. Tall, with unkempt black hair and worried green eyes, bending down to help her to her feet. She had been flustered by her immediate reaction of attraction to him, dazedly staring at him while all this happened. Finally, once on her feet again, she tuned in, listening to his words for the first time.
He sounded so incredibly guilty, eyes searching her for any sign of injury. She listened to his voice, a seductive British accent that almost knocked her on her butt again. She had been so entranced by his mouth that she was startled when he stopped talking. There was a brief awkward moment when they both realized what she had been doing before casual introductions were made.
His name was William Prongs and he was from Britain, though he didn't much like to talk about that. He didn't like much to talk about home. He only said once that his parents died while he was young and things had been bad for him. Really bad for him. So bad that the light in his eyes would dim at the mention of Britain. It was heartbreaking to see.
She had been flustered to the point of an incoherent babble. After rambling like an idiot for about three minutes, she tried to beat a hasty retreat. But he followed her to her car, handing her a notebook she had dropped, with his number on the inside cover. It made her blush something awful and she barely had time to scrawl her own number on his hand before she had to get out of there. The last thing she had seen pulling out of the parking space was his smiling face, and an offhand wave he offered.
She floated for the rest of the day, so much so Buffy had demanded to know what happened. The story came out, unwillingly mind you, but she stood no real chance against the Summers double team. Both sisters were ecstatic, not leaving her alone for the entire day until she submitted to their will and called him.
They went out on their first date that weekend. A nice simple dinner accompanied by a movie. She had lit up at the theatre, seeing that Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets was playing. But he had paled at the sight of the poster and she held her tongue. Must not be his cup of tea, so they went and saw the new James Bond movie instead. Not really her cup of tea, but she spent the hours clutching his hand at every loud explosion. That made up for everything.
They made it back to the house. She rolled her eyes when she saw the shadows of both Summers trying to hide at the front window. He had been amused too, blushing under the scruntiny. They had parted rather quickly, but not before he brushed his lips across hers in the barest of kisses. It made her want to melt. She was in fact surprised that she didn't, somehow making it inside that night on her own accord.
And that's how it started. One date turned into two, which turned into three, which kept getting higher and higher until they were a couple. Eight months of pure bliss with this strange man with his beautiful green eyes, unkempt hair, and charming voice. Eight months in which he learned everything about her, and that meant everything. He learned of everything that went bump in the night, her gradual descent into the dark arts, and her struggle to reclaim herself. He learned all about it, and he was wonderful with it. Accepting everything she had to reveal with a smile and declaration of love.
She thought it was perfect. She thought that this would be the one to work, after every other relationship she had been through. She dreamed of a white wedding followed by a house on the hill with three children running about it. She thought it would happen inevitably because she believed they had no secrets to keep from each other. She thought she knew all she had to about him, everything that would ever matter.
She was wrong.
*****
Part One
"You know this qualifies as slave labour?"
Willow Rosenburg laughed, shaking her head as she smiled at her boyfriend Bill.
"You're just a grump," she replied primly, turning back around to pay the cashier. "You really should just get with the spirit of the season already and stop complaining. Besides, it's your own fault for putting all the shopping off until now."
"Yeah, but there were so many other more entertaining things to be done in those times," he pouted in response, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. Willow blushed, remembering some of those things in particular. She paid the register, ignoring Bill's attempts to draw her in for conversation. She was not talking about those things with him ni public.
"This is quite insane," he continued, once they had left the shop. He haphazardly swung all his bags onto one arm, putting the other around the redhead's slender shoulders and drawing her in closer.
"I don't understand why we have to get everyone presents separately," he frowned. "I mean, one for each from the two of us should suffice."
"You're just saying that because you have no idea about what to get everyone," Willow needled him, grinning at him teasingly. "You just want to take credit for everything I think up."
"Well, I thought that came with the territory," he returned good- naturedly, steering her towards their car. He opened the latch, taking all the bags and throwing them into the trunk without notice. He straightened, noticing Willow staring at him amusedly.
"Do you want to break them before we even hand them out?" she giggled, motioning to the rather untidy pile of bags in their trunk. He blushed, making a big show of straightening the bags and sighing.
"Nothing is ever good enough for you," he whined. "Always want the best."
"Not true," she protested with an impish smile. "I settled for you didn't I?"
He gave a mock growl at that, abruptly pulling her in for a hug.
"Well, joke's on you," he chuckled, nuzzling her cheek. "Because I, the imperfect, get to reap the benefits."
She gave a series of delighted giggles, consentingly giving into his demand for a kiss. He pulled her tight against himself, feeling never more complete in his entire life. He had her, and that's all he ever really needed.
She pulled away after a bit, poking him in the stomach.
"We have to get to Buffy's house," she reminded him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "And we need to drop this off at the apartment first. Dawn isn't above sneaking out to the car while we converse on possible apocalypses."
He huffed, reluctantly letting her go with a pout. She could only laugh at his antics, giving his another quick kiss before making her way to the passenger seat. He followed, going to the driver's side.
The drive home was spent teasing and the such, as they usually did. They quickly unloaded their purchases at their apartment, scuttling back into the car to make the drive to Buffy's. That ride was one of more companionable silence, him holding onto to her with his right hand while he drove. She looked out the window, giving him the occasional happy smile when he squeezed her hand.
It was upon their arrival at Buffy's that he felt it. The strangest tinge of magic on the air. He knew from instinct it wasn't the kind of magic that they usually practiced on the Hellmouth. His eyes went to the door, noting that it was slightly ajar. Willow noticed this at the same time, raising in her seat. He looked her way, noting the worry etched there.
Her hand was on the handle before he could stop her.
"Willow! No!"
But she was already sprinting up the porch steps, a stake in hand as she pushed the front door open. He had no choice but to follow, shaking his head at the devastation he saw inside.
"Dawn! Buffy!" he heard Willow declare. He turned seeing his girlfriend run to her friends, trussed up in the corner. He narrowed his gaze. He didn't know too many things that could subdue a Slayer to tie her up. Not physically anyway.
Buffy was making some muffled shrieks. He met her blue eyes, noticing the way she was frantically jerking her head his way. He caught on, though not fast enough. He felt the hands on his back, forcing him to the ground. He heard Willow screaming, watching as some of the intruders made to neutralize the witch before she could get a spell off. Her eyes went to his and he tried to communicate calm to her.
"Just stay down," he whispered, grimacing as someone shoved his head down. He felt the ropes coming onto his hands, not really listening to the voices yelling at him from above.
"Harry Potter, you're coming with us!"
*****