Disclaiming: Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to different people, though--it is a shame that they don't get together more often. Neither of the aforementioned people, are me.
A/N: I'm calling this one a one-shot, because it's been sitting in my little notebook for ages and nothing else has come to mind. I don't even know what to call it. Therefore, this is.. it.
Nature's Witch
Dumbledore walked as quietly as possible in his robes and accoutrements, for you see he had many, and he was trying to sneak up on a man who was completely, utterly, un-sneak-up-on-able. He snickered nonsensically at his new word, and entirely blew his cover. "Blast," he mumbled.
"You didn't have a chance anyway," replied his cloaked adversary.
Albus chuckled and reached out a hand to his surrogate son's back, patting it. "Well, Severus," he said. "I have not yet succeeded, but someday I may. We must never lose hope."
Severus Snape glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and Albus winked. "Tiresome Old Bother," he snarked with a soft smile.
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore replied. "I imagine I ever was. Now tell me, Dear Boy, why are you considering this window so seriously?"
Snape scoffed. "Not the window, but that fool of a girl outside in this storm. What can she be thinking?"
Dumbledore looked very closely at Severus, then turned his eye to the figure dancing on the lawn. "Ah, yes, Miss Rosenberg. She is, I imagine, preparing to release some pent up energy after her journey." He grinned, and pulled a bag of popcorn out of his robes. "I reckon we're in for quite a show." He popped a few kernels into his mouth, then offered Snape the bag.
Severus looked at it with distaste, but took it from the headmaster anyway. He put some of the treat in his mouth and chewed, as if it might at any moment do something utterly unpredictable. However finding it merely popcorn, and merely popcorn flavored, he chewed away happily (well, contentedly anyway). Outside it had begun to thunder, and icy white fingers of lightening ripped across the sky.
"Should we not call her in, Albus?" You and I know lightening is attracted to magic, but she," he sneered, "has likely never been informed. She'll be struck."
Albus chuckled, "You forget everything I've told you about the newest addition to our staff."
"Yes, yes, I remember your longwinded speech. All the way from California, blah blah, slayer's friend and ally, blah blah, nature witch, blah blah, taking my job again!"
"A somewhat biased synopsis, Severus, but it will do. You should listen to what you say. Miss Rosenberg is in fact, a nature witch. Her powers come from the earth and though power resides in her—she carries little innate magic. That power builds up, and when it does, it becomes necessary to find someway to…ah…release it."
"So, dancing around in a rainstorm does it? Honestly, Albus, she just sounds like a glorified new-age hippie to me." Snape turned, and took a step towards the entrance to the dungeons. "I for one, don't want to see anyone fried tonight. Goodnight, Headmaster."
"Goodnight, Severus." Dumbledore replied distractedly.
He was busy watching Willow through the window. Her head was bent to the sky; her arms and fingers were outstretched. Her normally auburn hair was shockingly white, and she was calling the lightening to her. It struck repeatedly, her hands, her head, her chest, and she seemed to be glorying in the sensation. Then as he watched, she lowered her head and drew her arms across her chest in a hug. She rose fifty feet into the air, and in the glow of the electric power she had absorbed, he could see that her lips were moving—she was chanting something. She threw her arms wide, her head back, and released the lightening from her fingertips. It surged from her and branched out into, what looked like, the image of a tree—flowing across the sky. Willow fell slowly back to the ground and laughed as she resumed her dance around the grounds.
Albus clucked his tongue to himself. He had heard of the girl's power, but he'd had no real idea. He wished vaguely, that Severus had stayed to witness Willow's true dance. Though, thinking of Snape, he realized that the man had walked off with his entire bag of popcorn. He glared peevishly in the general direction of the dungeons, and set off for his office and his own bed.
Outside, Willow twirled in the mud and drank in the rain.