Title: Afternoon Talks

Author: Settiai

Disclaimer: "Angel" and other related characters are all properties of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and other related corporations. "Harry Potter" and other related characters are all properties of J. K. Rowling, and related corporations. No infringement is intended. This story, such as it is, was written as a sign of respect and love for the characters, the show, and their creator. I claim no ownership of the aforementioned show and characters.

Rating: PG-13

Explanation: This is my story for the HP Crossover Ficathon on LiveJournal, and it was written for kurukami.

Summary: Somewhere between Hogwarts and Sunnydale, two friends used to meet for afternoon talks.

Feedback: Comments and helpful criticisms are always appreciated.

"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce?"

Wesley put down his cup of tea and glanced up, blinking slightly when he saw who was addressing him. A young man with flaming red hair was peering at him through horn-rimmed glasses, an uncertain expression on his face.

Frowning slightly, Wesley studied the other man's face. He didn't appear to be much older than twenty-one or twenty-two, but his eyes belonged in a much older face a common characteristic found in most of Europe's wizarding community. There was something familiar about the young man though. "Yes?"

"Percy Weasley, sir," the red-haired man replied politely. "We met at the Ministry a few days ago."

Wesley's mind jumped back a few days, and he felt a moment of sheepishness run through him as he finally remembered where he had seen the younger man. "The Minister's assistant," he said with a smile, nodding towards the empty chair across from him. "Would you care to join me?"

"Thank you, sir," Percy said, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sat down.

"I doubt that I even have five years on you," Wesley said with a chuckle. "You really don't have to refer to me as 'sir.'"

Percy nodded. "Of course, sir."

Wesley chuckled again as Percy's face grew red. "Are you here to eat?" he asked. "If so, you're a little late."

The redness of his face fading slightly, the younger man gave him a tentative grin. "I have a tendency to forget about the little things."

"Such as eating?" Wesley asked, drawing another sheepish look from Percy. Shaking his head slightly, he let his gaze move over the small outdoor café that they were in. Wizards of all shapes and sizes were hurrying by, many of them glancing at his fancy Muggle clothing in interest.

"Things have greatly improved since the last time the Council sent a delegation here," Wesley said.

"Two years ago," Percy said softly, his voice hardening just a bit. "When the girl at Hogwarts was called as the Slayer."

Wesley nodded. "The first witch to be called since the seventeenth century."

"But even a Slayer's strength can't hold up against the killing curse," Percy pointed out, reaching over and absentmindedly grabbing a piece of toast from the plate in front of Wesley. "She deserved better than that."

Percy suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing, and he quickly sat the half-eaten toast back down. Wesley didn't seem to notice, however. "You knew her?" he asked gently, comprehension dawning on his face.

The younger man looked down for a moment, and his face was pale when he glanced back up. "I have four younger siblings," he said. "She was… friends with them."

Wesley stared at him for a moment, a vaguely suspicious expression on his face, but he didn't press the subject.

"Thank god he's gone," Percy suddenly whispered. "Maybe our lives can go back to normal now."

"Perhaps," Wesley agreed softly. The two of them then sank into a peaceful silence for several minutes.

"The Council is planning on sending me back here in two weeks," Wesley said suddenly. "Would you care to meet me for lunch?"

Percy blinked in surprise.

"Bastards, that's what they are," Percy fumed. "They're all a bunch of pompous idiots!"

Wesley blinked as he sat down in his regular chair across from Percy. "They?" he asked. "Who are 'they' and why are you calling them bastards?"

The other man stared at him incredulously for a moment or two before letting out a dry laugh. "Does the name J.K. Rowling ring a bell?" he asked.

Wesley smiled slightly. "To be perfectly honest, that's why the Council sent me this time," he confessed. "I assume that she isn't a Muggle?"

"Squib," Percy replied dryly. "And she's working directly for the Ministry."

Wesley shook his head. "They want to sing Harry Potter's praises to the world?" he guessed. "And they know that the only possible way for that to happen is if they present his story as fiction?"

"Correct on both accounts," Percy replied bitterly. "Don't worry about your secrets though. She's under orders not to mention anything about the Council or the Slayers."

"That's good," Wesley said with a sigh. "They was worried about that happening." He paused and glanced curiously at his companion. "It may not be the wisest decision that the Ministry's ever made, but it's a far cry from being the most foolish. Why the ranting?"

Percy rolled his eyes before leaning back in his chair. "Artistic freedom," he said with a sigh. "She's allowed to tell the story any way she sees fit… and I know this woman. She's likely to kill off everyone except for Harry before she's done."

Wesley chuckled. "I'm sure that it won't be that bad."

"Apparently, she's told a select few about some of her plans," Percy shot back. "According to Remus Lupin, she's planning on killing off Sirius Black in her version of events."

"Sirius Black?" Wesley repeated. "The war hero? Harry Potter's godfather?"

Percy nodded grimly. "She invited him out to dinner last year, and he turned her down for Rem… a less feminine date," he said. "This is her revenge."

"And have you turned down for dinner?" Wesley asked with a chuckle.

"Worse," Percy replied, burying his face in his hands as his skin turned crimson. "She's friends with my former girlfriend… and Penny and I separated on less-than-cheerful terms, if you understand my meaning."

Wesley shook his head, taking a sip of tea in order to hide his amused smile. "Women always stick by their friends."

"I'm going to be the laughingstock of the office by the time she's done with these books," he muttered, his head dropping down to rest on the table.

"Maybe not," Wesley said with a helpful shrug. "She could surprise you. Not likely, mind you, but still…"

Percy moaned.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come by before you left," Percy said, smiling a bit as Wesley sat down in his usual chair. "Congratulations, by the way. Two Slayers under your command. Impressive."

Wesley smiled. "Thank you," he replied. "It was… a surprise, to say the least."

"Are you really going to Sunnydale?" Percy asked curiously. "The Hellmouth?"

Nodding slightly, Wesley leaned back in his chair. "I'm leaving tonight."

Percy smiled weakly. "No more afternoon talks then," he said regretfully. "I'm going to miss them."

"I'm going to miss them as well," Wesley said as a wistful expression appeared on his face.

Percy reached out and clasped Wesley's hand. "Good luck in Sunnydale," he said, letting go of the other man's hand just as quickly as he had grabbed it.

Wesley grinned. "I'm sure everything's going to be fine," he said, his eyes shining with earnestness as he stood up. "What could go wrong?"

"You do realize that you're tempting fate by saying that?" Percy asked wryly.

Shaking his head in amusement, Wesley grinned again as his eyes sent a silent farewell to the younger man. "We'll see," he said as he slowly turned and started out of the café. "I'll try to get in touch with you after I get settled in Sunnydale."

"Try not to go overboard," Percy called out warningly. "They don't expect you to be perfect… only human."

Wesley turned back towards him for just a moment. He nodded his head in acknowledgement before continuing out of the café.

"He's going to try too hard," Percy muttered, sighing as he sank back in his chair. "The two of us have too much in common."