A Year Abroad
Chapter 10 – 2 Days in the Dale – Part 2
A/N: From the top, I own neither Buffy nor Harry Potter, or any of their affiliated characters. The only characters I own are the ones of my own creation, and even those are few compared to the number of established characters.
This chapter's Q&A is one I got a while back from aceman122. "Is Harry the Master of Death in your story?" This one is a "yes, but no" answer. Harry is the "Master of Death" in that he had gathered the Hallows; however, beyond that, the title means nothing, especially to Harry. Harry survived the second killing curse, not because of being the "Master of Death," but because of the arrogance and ignorance of Voldemort. Also, I view the title as more of an honorific one, since Harry doesn't command death, he simply accepts it, and doesn't run in fear from it. Essentially, being the Master of Death is no more special than being the Sausage King of Chicago.
Keep the questions and reviews coming. In the meantime, enjoy.
September 6, 1998 – Harry and Faith's Apartment – 12:07 a.m. PDT
The front door of the apartment opened, casting light into the darkened living room from the lamp in the hallway. Faith limped through, assisted by Harry, who had her arm across his shoulders.
"Ow. Ow. Fuckity ow!" Faith winced every time she stepped on her wounded right leg.
"Stop being such a baby." Harry eased the brunette slayer into a chair and eased her leg onto the coffee table, before closing the front door.
"Excuse me," Faith asked, sounding offended. "You're not the one that had their knee shattered by a vamp earlier."
"Remind me to tell you one day about Quidditch." Harry rolled his eyes as he walked to the kitchen. "First off, it wasn't shattered. The fact my episkey spell had no effect means nothing was broken." Harry pulled open a drawer that Faith was unable to see from her current location.
"Are you fixing me up one of your first aid potions?"
"No," Harry responded without emotion, "Because of point number two." Faith saw him pull out a cold pack from the freezer and wrap it in a hand towel.
"Your Slayer Healing has more than likely already kicked in. Which, from the stories Buffy told me, you'll have nothing worse than a bruise come morning." Harry gently laid the towel-wrapped cold pack on Faith's wounded knee. "That should be enough for the swelling."
Faith placed a hand on the bundle, keeping it steady on her knee. "Potion would still be faster."
Harry plopped down on the couch perpendicular to her, releasing a heavy sigh. "Finally, when you are patrolling with a wizard, maybe you should relax your rules about how he can help when you call 'Dibs,'" Harry made air-quotes as he said 'dibs.' "The guy wouldn't have kicked you in the knee, if you had let me cast petrificus totalus on him."
"The day I can't take out a vamp, solo, is the day I'm done as a Slayer." Faith let the darker connotation of her statement hang unsaid.
"I don't think the issue was you taking him," Harry slowly explained. "Rather, it was taking him and his two buddies on at the same time."
Faith chuckled at the look on Harry's face. It was a mix of 'annoyed,' 'sarcastic,' and 'near-lecture' that she had only seen before on Helen and Giles. 'Must be a British thing,' Faith thought.
Harry broke into a grin as Faith's chuckling continued. "Care to share the joke, Faith?"
Faith smothered her chuckles long enough to speak. "No."
"Promise to accept some assistance from your 'battle-mage' in the future?"
"'Battle-mage'?" Faith quirked her eyebrow at Harry.
"What? You think I was completely unaware of Dungeons and Dragons?"
"I just thought you would have assumed it was a textbook." Faith's chuckles resumed when Harry's – now dubbed – 'British Face' returned.
"The face," Faith wheezed as she fell back into the cushion of her armchair, cackling madly. "Oh, God, that face."
Harry released an exaggerated sigh as he rose from his seat, doing his best to ignore Faith's howling laughter. "Well, if you think you're indestructible enough to make it to your room, I'll bid you goodnight."
"Wait," Faith called out, once more gaining control of her breath. "Could you get me some snacks from the kitchen?"
"Taking 'midnight snack' awful literal, don't you think?"
"Like I said, slaying makes me hungry and horny."
Harry fell silent at Faith's declaration. After an awkwardly quiet moment, he finally spoke. "So, anything in particular, or pot luck?"
"I'm good with whatever." Faith tapped her fingers on top of the wrapped ice pack as Harry scrounged in the kitchen, mentally debating her next question. "Hey, Harry?"
Harry returned to the room with a loaf of bread, a package of lunchmeat, and a can of pop, which he set on the table for Faith. "Yes?"
"Out of curiosity… What kind of wards are you planning on putting up?" Faith popped open the can, resting it on the cold pack.
"Pretty standard set of protections," Harry began. "Anti-apparition, fire prevention, extra layer of anti-vampire, hostile intent aversion—"
"Would they…prevent me from…bringing a guest home?" Faith wasn't blushing, but she wasn't keeping eye contact with the dark haired wizard, either.
Harry cottoned on to Faith's intention pretty quickly, and decided to see if he could get the slayer to blush. "Are you asking if you can bring home guys to shag?"
"I just want to make sure whoever I bring over doesn't turn into a beast." Faith brought the can to her lips, indulging in a deep gulp.
"I figured you'd like your one-night stands like that," Harry replied with a wink.
Faith sputtered as she struggled not to inhale her drink. She leaned forward, managing not to spill any on her shirt. Harry couldn't help but grin at getting such a reaction from the brunette.
"What the hell, Harry!" Faith's cheeks were turning a mild pink as she brushed off her shirt of any potential spatter.
Harry chuckled at the look on Faith's face. 'Not sure if that's from the comment or the coughing, but I'll take it, anyway.' Harry turned toward his room, speaking over his shoulder. "I'll put some charms on the walls to soundproof them. And don't expect me to make breakfast for them."
Harry shut his door before Faith could respond. She sat there, mouth gaping, amazed that she let Harry get to her like that. A part of her wanted to slap him silly for doing so, but another part wanted to tip her cap to him.
"I think I liked you better when only I made you blush!" Faith turned back to the sandwich fixings in front of her, grumbling under her breath.
Harry rubbed his face as he sat down on his bed, now in his sleep clothes. He looked at his nightstand, the new letters resting against the refilled rack of Dreamless Sleep potions. Harry slowly pulled one of the six phials out, removing the stopper.
"Pleasant dreams." Harry whispered to the room before downing the purple potion and lying back in his bed.
Sunnydale High Library – 11:00 a.m.
The walls of the Sunnydale High School Library were almost vibrating with the level of noise contained within. Inside of the cage, across from the Library counter, the redheaded couple of Oz and Willow were assembling a new feature to the cage. The feature required the use of noisy power tools. In the middle of the room, Giles sparred with Buffy using the new Eskrima sticks he had recently ordered. The loud clanks and clonks adding themselves to the wall of noise. Finally, at the table, Cordelia was cleaning a crossbow as Xander whittled a new stake.
"You know," Xander mused aloud, "This has got to be the finest stake I have ever crafted. Look at the lines on that point."
"About the only good points you ever make," Cordelia retorted dryly.
Xander frowned, but repressed any potential comeback. He instead rose from his chair and crossed over to Willow and Oz. "So, what you guys rigging up over here?"
Willow turned excitedly as Oz continued bolting the bulky computer monitor to the outside of the cage. "Well, we need a way to test the effectiveness of the Wolfsbane potion on Oz while he's all wolfey. And since the Wolfsbane is meant to keep his brain in control, we're going to have him type 'yes or no' answers to questions throughout the night."
Willow gestured to a slightly oversized keyboard that was set on the floor of the inside of the cage; her hand then followed the path of cables as she spoke. "He uses that keyboard, which is connected to that computer, and his response shows on the monitor."
"Cool," said Xander in a mildly impressed voice. "Like the gorilla in Congo."
"I think I'd prefer to describe it as like later Silver Age Hulk." Oz looked up at Xander as he tightened the last bolt.
"As would any of us," Xander sarcastically responded.
The group's thoughts were interrupted as Buffy took a wild swing at Giles, who managed to sidestep the blow. Buffy's strike caused the eskrima stick to shatter on the floor.
Willow leaned in conspiratorially to Xander and Oz. "Does it seem like Buffy's a bit off her game?"
"Probably still a little frazzled from Friday," said Oz. "Talking about Angel can't have been easy."
"Poor Buff," Xander said softly, shaking his head. "Can't she have one summer without drama?"
"I'd be shocked by one week without it." Willow sighed empathically for her friend.
"I'm not disparaging your strength, Buffy," Giles said as he picked up pieces of the broken stick. "But you must also practice restraint. Do not over-commit to an attack."
Buffy ran her hand through her hair, brushing the loose strands off her sweaty forehead. She twirled her remaining stick in a distracted manner, keeping that arm towards Giles. Giles got into a textbook stance, squaring off with Buffy.
Giles made the first move; he attempted to use the advantage of still having two sticks by striking at Buffy from opposite directions. She deflected both strikes, thanks to her speed, and then stepped into one of his swings, snatching the stick from his hand. She then blocked his remaining stick and brought the pilfered one to rest on where the point where his shoulder met his neck. The entire match took less than fifteen seconds.
Xander clapped as Giles demurely stepped back from Buffy. "Yes," the British Watcher mumbled. "Quite good. Perhaps we should call that a day?"
"We're pretty much done over here," Willow responded. "Just need to give Oz his potion this afternoon, and we'll be ready to test. I've got a whole battery of questions to use tonight. And I got a whole notebook ready to take notes and make observations."
"Am I gonna have to take notes," Cordelia asked from her seat.
"No…"
"Great!" Cordelia smiled brightly. "You have fun with that."
Buffy looked over at the clock. "I better take a shower here, if we're going to make it to Harry and Faith's on time."
The air was thick with the dust from the battle. His steps echoed down the cracked and crumbling stones of the corridor. Whispers teased at the edges of his hearing.
Two seventh years in torn and dirtied robes carried the still body of another student past him. Both fought to keep from breaking down in the middle of their solemn task. They seemed to pay Harry no notice.
Harry followed the students closer and closer to the source of the whispers. The Great Hall. Before, walking in through its large doors would mean walking into the noise of more than two hundred chattering students. Now, there was a collection of haggard, and bloodied witches and wizards, silently taking in the sight of fifty of their friends now laying out on the bare floor, forever still.
By the door, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin lay side-by-side; the fingers of their hands barely touching. A few places down, lay the corpse of Fred Weasley; a grin seemingly frozen on his face. But something wasn't right…Fred was alone.
Harry spun around in the midst of the Hall. He had to find them. He had to know. His eyes fell upon a number of bodies with familiar red hair, a single bushy-haired witch stood out from the cluster of redheads. All of them bloodied, their faces frozen in expressions of terror, silently screaming.
'NO!' Harry couldn't believe it. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.
A meek whimper to his left drew his attention. He turned to see Buffy, a vicious slash across her stomach, weeping over the bodies of Willow and Xander. Giles was pressing a reddening rag against a wound in Cordelia's side. Faith pulled a blanket over a still Oz.
A voice, more like a hiss, sounding like a teapot coming to boil, filled the Great Hall. It closed in around him like a fog bank until all he could hear was the voice calling to him.
"HARRY…POTTER!"
Harry and Faith's – 11:20 a.m.
Harry woke up with a start, nearly tumbling off the couch in his and Faith's living room. His wand was in his hand out of reflex, quickly taking cover, checking the room for targets. His breath coming in ragged gasps.
'There are no Death Eaters here. You're safe.' Harry repeated in his head. 'They're safe, too.'
Harry slid to the floor, his back against the couch. He dropped his wand between his legs and buried his face in his hands. He struggled to calm his nerves and collect himself before Faith returned or the others showed up.
He rose to his feet and made his way to his desk inside of his expanded bedroom. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a fountain pen. He didn't know whom else to write to about this. 'She's the only one who'd understand,' he thought desperately.
It was a short letter, but the sloppy handwriting would be enough to convey the urgency. He didn't need many words to convey anything to her.
Hermione,
The dreams are coming again.
Harry shakily returned the cap to the pen, before he set the pen and letter to the side.
12:05 p.m.
Faith opened the door, and stepped silently aside, allowing Joyce to enter the apartment. She carried a Tupperware container over to the kitchen counter.
"Mrs. S," Faith greeted the woman. "You're the first one here."
"I brought a dessert. I hope you don't mind."
"Five-by-five in my book."
Joyce examined the room, a look of pleasant surprise on her face. "My, this is certainly well furnished. You guys got this all set up in a day?"
"Harry has people. Well…" Faith grinned to herself. "I say people."
Harry entered from his room, buttoning up a smart looking dress shirt he had on over a t-shirt and khakis. "Faith, was that someone at the door? Oh, hey, Mrs. Summers." Harry smiled and waved politely.
"I was just telling Faith I liked your guys' decorating."
Harry smiled wider. "I asked Kreacher to bring some things over from the house. He does excellent work."
"Your house?" Joyce blinked as she processed the statement. "You mean, your house in England?"
"Uh-huh." Faith acknowledged on Harry's behalf.
"And who's – Kreacher?"
A soft pop was the only warning Joyce received before the house elf made his presence known. "Kreacher is the caretaker of the Ancestral Home of the House of Black."
A shocked Joyce smothered a scream as she spun around at the sudden voice behind her.
"It's cool, Mrs. S." Faith patted Joyce on the shoulder. "Kreacher is Harry's house elf. He's a bit rough around the edges, but he's alright."
"Kreacher thanks Miss Faith." Kreacher bowed deeply, the duplicate locket made by as he did. "Kreacher must keep wary. Elves hear all kinds of stories of Slayers. Kreacher knows how Miss Faith deals with dark creatures."
Joyce turned to Harry, unsure what to do. Faith also wanted a hint as to what to say.
"He was alone for a long time," Harry offered in explanation. "Pretty much only had himself and a surly portrait to talk to."
"You say that like we should know what that means," Faith said before she turned back to Kreacher. "I'll make you a deal, Kreacher: You don't come after me, I won't go after you. Sound good?"
"Kreacher agrees, Miss."
The knock on the door ended any further conversation. Before Harry could move, Kreacher had already gone to the door and opened it.
"Hey, guys…" Xander drifted off as he and the assembled Scoobies lowered their gazes to take in the elf in front of them. "Um… hello?"
"Another Slayer? Two have magic, but are not wizardkind, a wolf, and another two muggles. Master's friends continue to perplex Kreacher."
"Oh! You're Kreacher?" Willow stepped in past the others, and kneeled down to his level. "Harry told us how much you helped him during the war. It's a pleasure to meet you." Willow extended her hand towards Kreacher, who gazed at Willow in mild wonder. He slowly took her hand.
"Much power flows through this one. Kreacher almost mistake her for wizardkind."
The assembled Scoobies, save for Willow, turned towards Harry curiously. "He's kind of lost his ability for inner monologue."
Xander chuckled lightly. "All part of the unfreezing process?"
Harry quirked an eyebrow at Xander. "The what?"
12:20 p.m.
Harry came back into the living room carrying several slightly used textbooks. He set them on the table in front of Willow and Oz before resting down on the couch next to them.
"Okay. These are my first year textbooks." Harry picked the books up one at a time as he described them to Willow. "Potions will likely be the most interest to you as it does not involve wand work. Do keep in mind what the apothecary said about transformative potions on people without magical cores."
"Charms, transfiguration, and defense, I know the diagrams and wand movements will do you no good, but hopefully the theory can help you with your own studies."
Willow accepted the books with an eagerness Harry had seen before in Hermione. "These are so cool. Actual magic textbooks! I mean, the books I've found are fine, but they read like Bibles. Oh, speaking of which—" Willow pulled out an older looking book from her bag. "Here's one on Wicca magic. Thought it would be a good place for you to start."
Harry took the book from Willow's hand before opening it to a random page. "I'll have to send a copy of this to Hermione. She's as eager to learn this as she is to study for her N.E.W.T.s."
"I don't know if you'll be able to find another copy of that one. That came from Miss Calendar's collection, and I haven't been able to find that in any shops, or—" Willow ceased talking as Harry set the book on the table in front of them, pulled out his wand, and cast a nonverbal Gemino. He opened the two copies of the book to the same page, showcasing that they match.
"Or, you could do that," Willow said in awe.
Oz leaned over to look directly at Harry. "Do you think that would work on CD's?"
12:30 p.m.
Harry, Faith, and the Sunnydale locals were having an enjoyable time. Chatting, relaxing, getting to know one another. Harry was sharing stories of some of his more harmless exploits while at Hogwarts, and Joyce was sharing some of the cuter stories of Buffy growing up. Everyone was enjoying themselves…except Buffy when Joyce told them all about the Dorothy Hamill hair phase.
Xander thoughtlessly set his drink on the coffee table. Less than a second later, Kreacher popped in, and very passive-aggressively slid a coaster underneath the cup.
"He's a bit O.C.D., isn't he?" Xander looked around the room with a grin on his face.
Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "Xander, Kreacher has lived his life taking care of the House of Black, and all its holdings. I'm going to take a stab in the dark, and guess that coffee table is at least older than your parents."
Kreacher returned, standing next to Harry, back straight as he proudly spoke. "That table has belonged to the House of Black since before this town was founded, Master."
Joyce examined the table with an appreciative eye. It was in very good condition for over three hundred years old.
"It is also never wise to upset a house elf," Harry warned.
Xander blanched under the harsh, judgmental glower of Kreacher.
1:05 p.m.
"I'm not judging, and I know that they're better protected doing so, but I can't help but question the wisdom of them living here," Joyce said quietly to Giles as the two stood in the kitchen. "Wouldn't it be safer for them to live with one of us?"
Giles nodded thoughtfully at Joyce's question. "While I could, potentially, make an argument for Faith to live under my roof, none of us have any say over Harry's choices. I dare say, that were we to attempt to do impose our wills on him, all we'd do is chase him out of town." Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them.
"As for Faith, tough she was located by her Watcher at a younger age than Buffy, it was not by much. And like Buffy, her personality is one to—"buck authority," I believe is the term."
Joyce smiled softly as she nodded her agreement with Giles' assessment of Buffy. "And frankly," Giles continued, "Despite their years, this group has proven itself some of the most mature teenagers I have ever met."
"No, no. Jump over that. Hit X! Hit X!" Faith smacked Harry's shoulder as he wildly mashed the buttons on the Playstation controller.
"No, you need to pick up that ammo over there," Xander said, pointing at the screen.
"I know I didn't do well on my History of Magic exams, but I'm pretty sure the Mayans never used Golems like that."
"Watch your health bar," Willow added.
Once more, the sound of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider dying could be heard from the T.V. Harry handed the controller over to Faith. She snatched the controller with relish.
"Let me show you some real magic, Wiz-Kid."
Harry groaned at yet another nickname from Faith.
3:13 p.m.
Oz poured a capful of the steaming potion out of the thermos. Willow stood by with a pad of paper and a watch, taking precise notes of everything. In the bathroom mirror, Oz saw Harry, Faith, and Buffy standing in the open doorway, their attention firmly on the young werewolf.
"Here goes nothing." Oz drank the dose of potion in one gulp. His face grimaced and twitched momentarily. "Has more kick than a Josta."
Willow took the lid from Oz and replaced it on the thermos. "Any other initial reactions beyond the taste? "
Oz shook his head. "No. Nothing feels unusual."
"The real test will come at sundown." Harry turned around, and called out to the other guests behind them. "Okay, everyone, no adverse effects. We can all breathe easy."
5:30 p.m.
Harry stood by the door as he shook hands with Xander and Cordelia. "Thanks for dropping by, you guys. It was really nice."
"No prob, Harry." Xander leaned in close as he whispered, "In case it's needed, is there something I can give Kreacher to calm him down?"
"Not clothes," Harry stressed to Xander before shaking Cordelia's hand as well. The couple left hand in hand, on their ways home.
"B, I'll see later tonight for patrol." Faith looked from Buffy to Joyce, who was now carrying the empty tupper ware. "Mrs. S, thanks again for coming. The dessert was awesome."
"Thank you, Faith. If you two need anything, feel free to ask. My door is always open."
The two Summers women left the apartment, leaving behind Faith, and the group who would soon depart to the library.
"Have we got everything gathered that's not already at the library?" Willow asked the group.
"Other than me, everything should be in place." Oz gave Willow a dry grin.
"Are you sure you won't need me, tonight," Giles asked.
"Harry's going to stick with me the first few hours," Willow replied. "And Xander's going to show up after one o'clock to replace me."
"Very well. I suppose we should head out, then."
Sunnydale High Library – 9:30 p.m.
Sunset had occurred that evening at 7:12 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time. Willow had taken meticulous notes about the events of that evening. She had used the projected time of sunset to base the earliest Oz could take the potion that day. Her anticipation of the evening had been building since that time, and now she felt a mix of joy and relief at the sight before her. Oz, in werewolf form, was sitting quietly and patiently in the locked cage inside the library.
"Oz," Willow asked, full of hope. "How do you feel right now?"
Willow, and Harry, who had been standing by to stun Oz if he started reacting badly to the potion, turned to the monitor outside the cell as Werewolf-Oz hunted-and-pecked on the keyboard.
Feel fine, he typed out.
Willow's cheeks ached a little at how wide her smile was. All the other times she had observed Oz's changes, he had been in great pain during, and been a wild animal after. Tonight, other than a few grunts when his limbs lengthened, he had made no disconcerting noises as he changed. And now, two hours after transformation, he was still in control.
Harry joined Willow in her excitement. He was pleased to see that he could help alleviate some of the troubles of one of his new friends. It brought to mind another werewolf that had been aided by a Potter to feel more normal. He also resolved to write another letter to Andromeda soon, to check on Teddy.
"Well, I think I can leave you two alone for the rest of the evening." Harry slid his wand into its holster on his wrist. "Willow, Oz, I'm glad to see this helps."
He paused as he heard the telltale clicks of the keyboard. He looked back to read the message from Oz as it appeared.
Thank you.
Willow gave Harry a big, rib squeezing hug. "What he said," she mumbled into Harry's chest.
Harry returned the hug, patting Willow gently on the shoulder. Once she released him, he left the library with a renewed excitement in his step.
Willow picked up her leather-bound copy of Call of the Wild, and began reading to Werewolf-Oz.
A/N: Okay, so I suck at keeping to my own deadlines. Not going to make a promise on when the next chapter is going to be posted. Am hoping I can get it done in less than a month, but we'll see. It will be a long one, even if I split it up.
At present, the count for this story is 148 Reviews, 654 Follows, and 480 Favorites. I'm so glad so many of you guys are enjoying this, and I hope to not disappoint with future chapters. (Even though I fear this one was my weakest)