A/N: I just want to say, I haven't abandoned any of my other stories, most importantly my most recent ones, but I got this idea while at work one day, and it just wouldn't let go until I started working on it. I have the first five installments complete, and will be updating a few times a week, until I get this story out of my system and finished.
There is an inherent magic in books, open one up and you can be transported anywhere, to anytime. They can transport you to lands you have never even dreamed of, and turn your world upside down. With everything else in her life, Willow didn't have nearly as much time to read as she would have liked, but with the Hellmouth quiet for once, and Buffy in LA visiting her father, Willow was spending the weekend catching up on her reading.
She borrowed Giles copy of Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone, and grabbed copies of the Chamber of Secrets and Prisoner of Azkaban from the library, figuring she could at least polish those off before Buffy came back Sunday evening.
By Saturday evening she was in love. It always amazed her how she could become so captivated by little black writing on a page, but this time it was easy, she could see so much of the Scooby Gang in the Golden Trio. She was enamored with how the three school children tackled very adult situations, but what surprised her most was her infatuation with Severus Snape's tragic character. She wasn't sure if it was her friendship with Angel or the elegant way his tragedy was penned, but she was infatuated.
It was too late on Saturday for her to trouble Giles, so she ran over to the Wiccan Bookstore and picked up the Goblet of Fire.
Books for the Wiccan store always smelled amazing, their pages infused with the scents of dozens of different incents and herbs. The books nearly buzzed with life. Willow took a deep breath; she could detect a hint of sandalwood, frankincense and myrrh, and just the faintest whiff of jasmine to sweeten the bunch.
Willow lit candles around her bathroom and drew a hot bath filled with lavender bubbles and settled down to devour the fragrant book. The light for the full moon outside and the candle flames enchanted the bathroom, drawing Willow so far into her imagination she didn't even notice when the book started to glow.
"What is the meaning of this," a voice rumbled through the bathroom, causing Willow to drop her book into the water.
A black clad man stood in the middle of her bathroom, his robes taking up nearly all available floor space. Willow squeaked and did her best to cover herself with the few remaining bubbles in the bath.
The man turned at the noise and gave and apprising look at Willow, who was woefully uncovered from the lack of bubbles.
"That daft old man slipped something in my drink again," the man in black said, while Willow slipped her hand along the side of the tub to where she set a stakes and a cross. "Though this one is much nicer than the stampeding hypogriphs from last year."
"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my bathroom?" Willow finally said, once the stake and cross were securely in her hands.
"I do wish the old fool would cease with his April Fools jokes," the dark man continued, completely ignoring Willow. "His illusions are quite good, though."
"Does this feel like an illusion?" Willow asked, chucking the cross at the man, hitting him wetly, square in the chest. The man just looked at the cross that had clattered to the ground. Willow fished the book out of the water and plopped the sodden mass on the floor before grabbing a towel and getting out of the bath, pushing the man out of her way in the process. "Now, who in the bloody hell are you?" the now toweled witch asked. "And what the hell are you doing in my bathroom?"
"What?" the man asked, seeming to gather his wits about himself. "I assure you, young lady, I did not bring myself to your presence. He was now averting his eyes, presumably since she was no longer an illusion. "The question is, how was I transported to an American Muggle's residence without my knowledge?"
"Did you just say 'Muggle?'?" Willow asked, looking down at her ruined book.
"It is a term we use for people who are not like me?" the dark clad man said hesitantly.
"I know what a Muggle is, Professor Snape," Willow said, taking an educated guess. The look on the man's face confirmed her suspicion. "And you can't be here, well apparently you can, but it's impossible," Willow strode past eh baffled man into her bedroom, collecting clothing as she went. She turned around and went right back into the bathroom with her arms full of clothes, slamming the door in the perplexed professor's face.
"What do you mean it's impossible?" Snape called through the door. "I admit it is quite unusual, but I assure you, I've been in a Muggle house before."
"I'm sure you have," Willow said, opening the door, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "But I'm not a Muggle," Snape looked skeptically at her. "I'm not, but you are fiction." Willow handed him the sodden copy of Goblet of Fire. "Sorry it's a bit wet."
"A bit," Snape said, reading the title. "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire?" Snape turned the book over and read the back. "This is preposterous."
"It's actually quite well written for a children's book," Willow said.
"I am not a character in a children's story," Snape said, handing the book back to Willow. "I am a wizard, a well-respected potions master, and Harry Potter can't be more than seven years old."
"Then I probably shouldn't let you read the rest of the books," Willow said, putting the wet book on her bathroom vanity. "I need to call Giles; he'll know how to fix this."
"I don't think I understand what there is to fix," Snape said, looking at Willow strangely as she dialed Giles' number, waiting for the older Englishmen to answer the phone. "Just get me to an international Floo, and I'll chalk this up to wild magic."
"I don't think you understand Professor," Willow said. "Giles, I seem to have a bit of a situation." She listened to the voice on the other end of her phone. "Yep, send out the Bat Signal, I'll be right over." She turned back to the impatient looking wizard, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't exist, there are no Floos; you're a character in a book, trust me."
"You're a Muggle, of course you think this is all fiction," Snape said.
"I'm not a Muggle," Willow snapped her fingers and made her bear float over to her. "Magic is just a bit different here."
"You're saying," Snape said, toying with his wand. "That there is no Hogwarts, no Ministry of Magic, none of it?"
"Nope," Willow said, placing her bear back on the bed. "The world of Harry Potter is relegated to a series of books and movies."
"No Voldemort," Snape said, pulling up his sleeve to show a faded snake and skull. "I think we should see this Giles of yours," Snape said. "As wonderful as the prospect of a world without the Dark Lord is, I have work to do."
"You may want to leave the robes here," Willow suggested. "I mean you're going to stick out anyway, but without the robes you'll stick out less."