Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Charmed. I accept no monetary payment for my stories.
Summary: After the Final Battle, Harry slips into an alcoholic depression. After killing Angel, Buffy runs away from everything she knows. The Charmed Ones have moved past the death of their sister and learned how to continue living. Can they help Harry and Buffy come to terms with what has happened in their lives and move forward into a bright future?
Background: The Final Battle took place in March, so the story picks up in April. Fred Weasley didn't die (because that sucked), but Arthur Weasley died instead. Buffy just killed Angel and run away, I'm saying also in April. The Charmed Ones are in Season 4, so Prue is dead and Paige has been found. Harry will meet them right after the episode Marry-Go-Round, where Phoebe and Cole get married.
Where Do We Go From Here?
Where do we go from here? / Where do we go from here? / The battle's done/ and we kinda won/ so we sound our vict'ry cheer/ Tell me/ Where do we go from here? BTVS S6, 'Once More with Feeling'
Nobody paid any attention to the man in the corner. He was always there, from the moment the bar opened at 4 until it closed at 2. His unruly black hair fell past his shoulders and covered his eyes. His lanky form seemed hardly able to stay upright in a breeze. It was possible that he wasn't quite old enough to be drinking alone, but no one who saw the haunted look in his emerald green eyes could refuse him service. He went through a bottle of Jameson Signature Reserve every day, which he spiked liberally with something from his own flask.
Harry James Potter barely knew what day it was. Don McLean's 'American Pie' lamented the day the music died on the jukebox as he poured another measure of Ogden's Old Fire whiskey into his glass of Jameson. It was a month since the Battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Voldemort. Harry had found this bar in muggle London the day after and hadn't missed a day since. Ginny had given up on trying to snap him out of it after just one week. She was once again happily dating Dean Thomas.
Harry had vague suspicion that he was supposed to be somewhere today, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to remember. He filled his glass with Jameson as he took a swig from his flask. Absent-mindedly he ate a few peanuts as Bob Seger's 'Turn the Page' came on. Harry had eaten little more than peanuts for the past month. He looked rather like Sirius had when he escaped from Azkaban: a skeleton with skin stretched over the bones. He still wore Dudley Dursley's hand-me-down clothes, and he used a frayed rope to hold up the pants while the collar of his shirt had to be continuously pulled back up over his shoulder.
Harry looked up through his hair at the clock. 6:00 pm. Another 8 hours until the bar closed. He considered his bottle of whiskey; 1/3 gone already. The problem, as Harry saw it, was that he had been drinking so much that he had started to build up a tolerance to the alcohol. He would have to start drinking 2 bottles a day. He had to stay drunk, otherwise he would see them, would hear them. All the people who died because he wasn't smart enough, fast enough, to finish Voldemort off sooner. All the people he failed. Little Colin Creevey, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, his parents, Arthur Weasley, Cedric Diggory, Dobby, and countless others.
Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive' came on. 'How ironic,' Harry thought. A solitary tear made its way down Harry's cheek, and he finished off his currant glass before refilling it with Jameson and Ogden's. The clock now read 9:00 pm. Harry ordered another bottle of Jameson.
The twins were filled with sadness when they saw Harry. Harry had saved Fred's life during the battle, all except his ear, which matched his brother's injury perfectly. It killed them to see Harry this way.
They ordered a pot of tea and made their way over to sit on either side of Harry as Aerosmith's 'Back in the Saddle' blasted through the speakers. Harry looked up blurrily, barely able to focus his eyes on the identical redheads. He looked suspiciously into his glass, took another drink, then slowly reached over and poked Fred on the left, and then George on the right.
"Ah Gred, look at poor Harry. He doesn't even think we're real," Fred lamented.
"Well Forge, to be fair, it's not the first time people have checked that we're real," George replied.
"How right you are my dear Gred," Fred cheekily answered.
Harry groaned and dropped his head onto the tabletop. He hadn't had to interpret 'twin-speak' for a while, and listening to the energetic duo while drunk was no easy thing.
"Oh don't worry Harry, look! here comes a pot of tea," George comforted.
"And if you look over here you'll find a wonderful vial of Sober-Up with a chaser of Hangover Cure," Fred said as he waved a vial under Harry's nose.
George pulled the teapot over and started pouring some tea into a cup while Fred forced the potion down Harry's throat.
"What are you two doing here?" Harry asked as the potion took effect.
The twins took on a serious look.
"Harry do you realize what day it is?" Fred queried.
"Ron and Hermione got married today, mate. You were supposed to be the best man." George answered for Harry.
"Oh no. I knew there was something I forgot. Are they angry?"
"I think Hermione was more sad than angry," George started.
"And you know how ickle Ronniekins lets his temper get the best of him from time to time," Fred completed.
"Harry mate, you have got to pull yourself together."
"Everyone's worried about you."
Harry sipped his cup of tea and hung his head. "I know guys. But I just can't stand to be around anyone who knows me."
"You're Harry bloody Potter. Everyone knows you."
"You would have to go to the other side of the planet to not be recognized."
"You should come with us back to the reception, Harry."
"Sorry guys, I just can't. Please, leave me alone."
"Alright mate. We can take a hint."
"We'll see you later Harry."
Reluctantly the twins left, glancing behind them as they walked out the door.
Harry, unhappily sober, drank his tea.
Maybe the twins were right, he mused. He could go away, far away, some place where no one had heard about Harry Potter. But where could he go?
There was a click as the jukebox started a new song. Tony Bennet started to croon 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco'. 'Sounds good,' thought Harry. He drained his tea and walked out of the bar to pack, failing to notice that his tea leaves formed a perfect triquetra.
The petite blond stood in the shade of a tree, a duffel bag over her shoulder. She wore oversized overalls and a hoodie. The wind blew her hair back as she looked towards the Sunnydale High School.
It hurt to stand there and watch her friends. There was no way they could possibly understand, though. Giles may have lost someone he loved, but he hadn't had to kill Miss Calendar. He and Xander would be glad that Angel was dead. And Willow. "Kick his ass," Xander had relayed her massage.
So as the Scoobies took one last look around before heading into the building, Willow being pushed in a wheelchair, Buffy Ann Summers picked up her bag, turned her back, and headed out to the highway.
The trucker that stopped to pick her up said he was going to San Francisco if she wanted to tag along.
"I'd appreciate it," Buffy replied, and then she walked around the cab and hoisted herself up into the seat.
"My name's Odin. What's your name?" the tracker asked.
"Anne. My name is Anne." Buffy stared out the window as they drove away from her life in Sunnydale, California.
"You want me to tell the girls now? They've just barely managed to pull themselves back together," Leo Wyatt gesticulated wildly as he addressed the Elders.
"But they have pulled themselves back together. That is why we are sending them these charges. They can help these two through their own tragedies. Just tell them about the wizarding world and the legend of the slayer. We trust that their compassion will lead them to their charges without further interference," one of the cloaked figures answered.
"Fine! Fine, I'll tell them. But if Piper blows me up, it's your fault!" with a final emphatic point of his finger, Leo disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs.
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