Title: Fallen Angels

Author: Lunablue

Email: deadredsocks @ yahoo . com

Homepage: http : // www . geocities . com / deadredsocks / user . html

Pairings: Severus/Buffy

Rating: R

Summary: Two people get caught up in a mix of intruige, mind games, danger

and sex that takes them for the ride of their lives. In the dark of LA where

the lines of good and bad blure who knows what can happen?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. belong to JK Rowling and affiliated companies.

Buffy and Co. belong to the Mr. Whedon and associated companies.

Author's Notes: Ok, to write this fic I really had to play around with the Btvs timeline.

Basically I took everything that happened, highlighted it, cut it, and pasted it five years

into the past. Therefore the hellmouth was not closed in 2002 but instead in 1997, the

same year OotP takes place in. If you don't understand or are confused by this email

me and I'll try to clarify myself.

With this fic I'm trying something entirely new with my writing style and formatting.

So, for those of you who have read my other works, I would really appreciate you

dropping a line to let me know if you like this style of writing more. It's harder to use

but flows better or at least that's what I think. I'm biased, obviously.

Special thanks to my Panda for not attempting to throttle me over the 8 hour and 600

mile distance between us and for researching the canon HP timeline then reading it to

me over the phone so that I could type it up. How you can put up with me is the eighth

wonder of the world.  And to Jenpei fire for doing a quick beta. You are kawii goddess

of friends!!!

When I become an Evil Overlord and dominate Earth I'll declare 9-28 an international

holiday in your honor. And perhaps give you a duchy in Spain. * cheers *

Prologue: A Cotton Candy Dream

A cold, more sharp than winter's wind swept over Severus Snape's soul and settled itself

in the pit of his stomach. Voldemort was summoning him and yet his Dark Mark wasn't

throbbing with agony. In fact one could almost describe the feeling as warm and . . . slightly

patronizing?

Only a startled blink and the sudden stillness of his body betrayed that anything was wrong.

Deliberately placing his quill down next to a stack of parchment with slow care, Severus

calmly pushed his chair back and stood up, his natural grace making the movement flow smoothly like wine.

Walking towards the tapestry of the Slytherin Crest that hung on his wall he whispered the password ( lluvera )

and started briskly through the secret passage that appeared. Black robes rustled against the cold stones and

occasionally he was forced to bend his head down to avoid the rough, unpolished ceiling that rounded above him.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the small space, bouncing off each other and increasing until he felt as if he

was swimming through the noise. Minutes passed this way until he reached a simple, unadorned wooden door.

Gathering his robes around him he squeezed thru it and stepped out into the Forbidden Forest.

As soon as he was all the way through the door swung shut of its own accord and it's seams melted back into the bark,

the tree an anonymous oak once more.

Overhead the stars twinkled out of eyesight, huge clouds hanging low taking up the entire expanse.

The earthy smell of dead plants and moss clung to the forest tenaciously and a mist rose from the ground, ghostlike.

A sudden break in the clouds let a sliver of silver moonlight drew a jagged line across the still form of Hogwarts

potion's master revealing thick, black wool edged in silver where his teacher's uniform used to be and a hard,

unforgiving mask of silver covering his face like the Phantom of the Opera's.

Just as suddenly the moon was hidden and with the disappearance of it's light Severus, too, was gone.

His master beckoned, who was he to deny the summons of a god?

****

He knelt, knees pressed viciously into the rocks and pebbles hiding in the grass, hands raised palm up towards the heavens and head hung, eyes closed. His robes pooled around him creating a sharp contrast to his milk white, luscious ebon hair like a satanic hollow surrounding his head. Silver mask lay on the grass, forgotten.

In front of him Lord Voldemort sat on a marble gravestone staring at the heavens, his

face relaxed and he looked oddly at peace, as if he'd finally discovered some hidden secret of the universe.

Their only companions were the dead.

"Severus, my hidden snake, do you believe our cause is a worthy one?

Or are we wasting our lives away?"

The question, half asked of him and half asked of the impersonal world was so random

that it stole a chocked gasp from his servant's throat and a thoughtless but entirely truthful answer.

" I believe the intentions honorable, my lord."

"And the means?"

To this he did not know how to reply for the hole he had dug when answering without

thought was already too deep. Instead he moved his hands behind his back, palms connected

and long pianist fingers pointing upwards, then lowered him until his pale lips softly grazed

 the ground near his master's boot.

"Thy will is my deed, sire."

And they stayed that way, for a very long time.

After what seemed an eternity but most have only been an hour or so Lord Voldemort took one deep,

shuddering breathe before exhaling quietly. A wind rustled the leaves of a nearby tree and at the sound

he seemed to come back to himself, down from the skies.

Looking down for the first time at the man who kneeled below him an almost fond look graced

his blood red eyes before fading away just as quickly. Raising a thin, bone pale hand he slipped

 his elongated fingers through silky raven hair, pointy fingernails scrapping against his scalp before

dragging the hand down and grasping a firm jaw, jerking a startled face up tell black met red.

" I had a dream, little snake o'mine, of a glorious world made of beauty and knowledge where

nothing of filth would foul the space of the illustrious habitants. A dream of a land where our children

could grow without fear of muggles and their freakish mudblood mistakes dragging us down with

their ignorance and inability to understand. A land where the wars of the muggle men would not ruin

our homes and endanger our loved ones.

A land where the people grew stronger with time and purity instead of weaker because of the mud

running through the blood of muggle children. A glorious haven that would know no peer, no rival.

This is what I dreamt of all those years ago when I twisted my name and became The Dark Lord,

and no manipulative old man or foolish Gryffindor will stop me. Do you understand Severus, truly

and with all your heart? Do you understand what it is you fight for?"

The dream world danced across his mind like a mirage, so tempting. So beautiful.

And in that moment, he truly did with all his heart.

"Yesss." He hissed.

His master nodded once before letting his jaw go and standing up, suddenly all business.

"It is summer time now and unless I've been misinformed many years since you last took a well

needed vacation. You will go to the America's this summer Severus, more specifically California,

and as they say over there, "case the joint". What are the young witches and wizards like, forget

the elder for we need young, hot blood. Feel the situation out, mayhap dangle a few choice morsels

of forbidden knowledge to the ones smart enough to understand. If I am to win this war I will need

more than the United Kingdom can offer, I want an army Severus and you are the one who is going

to raise it for me. Are we clear?"

"Yes m'lord."

"Good. Do not fail me in this little snake, you shant like the consequences."

And then he was gone and Severus was alone once more with cotton candy dreams and his mind a

million miles west, to the city of fallen angels.

The sun had just crest the horizon when he apparated back home.