Title: Who?

Series: The Magical Muggle Exchange Program (MMEP) (one of the 2 prequels to 'Huh?' The second will have more W/Draco in it, promise)

Author: Addy (BadAddy47@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: You know the drill; I don't own Harry Potter stuff, I don't own Buffy stuff; those honors go to J.K. Rowlings and Joss Whedon

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: This part – W/Harry. The series – W/Draco, W/Harry; pairings 23 and 24 in the QRC

Distribution: Fanfiction.net, Quickie Challenges, Semper Fidelis, OADNT, Twisting the Hellmouth, WLS, and NHA

Summary: How badly could a case of mistaken identity get? Find out!

Spoilers/Notes:

For Willow: Summer after Graduation. Oz high-tailed it. She's 18.

For Harry & Draco: Summer between 6th and 7th year. They're 18.

I was working on Passion Potion, but this fic just had to come out. Blame my muse. Please feedback, I worked so hard on this.

*~*~*~*~*

How perfectly predictable. That was the only word for it. (Actually, technically, there are other words for it: anticipated, certain, expected, foreseeable… but really, you can't completely disregard a request to avoid interrupting a train of thought. Bloody readers, never listening to the narrator. How perfectly predictable.) Harry Potter had returned home – or rather, to the Dursley's house – for the summer, and despite the fact he was only staying for a week and a half (or maybe because of it) Dudley decided that *this* was the week and a half that he absolutely *had* to bring his 'girlfriend' from boarding school home for a visit. He didn't know who, or what, would ever even consider dating Dudley, but he was also fairly sure he didn't really want to know. Not that that was going to make any difference. She should be arriving any minute. Harry consoled himself with the knowledge that he wasn't allowed to go downstairs anyway until he was called as James, 'the help', so with any luck the Dursleys would probably forget about him. (Still, the mercurial moods of Lady Luck with respect to Harry were unpredictable at best. Between being hunted by a dark raving lunatic for his entire life, and escaping the clutches of said dark raving lunatic repeatedly in the nick of time, his chances of anything, including being forgotten, were up in the air to say the least.) With that hope in mind, he took out a piece of parchment and some ink from his trunk and sat down to write another letter. This one wasn't to Ron or Hermione, but to the American he would be staying with for the rest of the summer through the Magical Muggle Exchange Program. He didn't really need to learn about the ways of Muggles after having grown up with the biggest Muggles the world had ever seen, but Dumbledore had recommended him for it with a twinkle in his eye. That twinkle alone had been enough to convince Harry to go. And after the headmaster mentioned extra the unlikelyhood that Voldemort would ever look for him on the other side of the Atlantic, as well as credits that would help him become Head Boy, Harry knew without a doubt that he wanted to spend the summer there. Unfortunately, there was a week between the time when Hogwarts ended and MMEP began. So here he was, back again, at 4 Privet Drive in the smallest bedroom. At least it wasn't the cupboard.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he picked up the pen and began to scrawl a message to a girl who was half a world away. At least, who he thought was half a world away.

(Which she was, give or take a few thousand miles. Besides, when you really think about it, when you think about the enormity of the universe and all its wonders, what's the difference between 5,000 miles and 5,000 inches? What's the difference between being in another country and… oh, how about… being on his front doorstep? Really? Besides the whole communication adjustment?)

Willow nervously smoothed her skirt after stepping onto the porch of 4 Privet Drive. She was a little apprehensive about meeting Harry for the first time, but she already felt like she knew him fairly well through the letters they had exchanged. In the spring she had sent letters to both of the wizards that would be staying with her over the summer, but Harry had been the only one to reply with more than a check and the appropriate forms. However, she still needed one more form to be filled out before he could come. She could have just sent it by owl, but she was curious about him and wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to meet him.

She pushed the doorbell, rapt lightly on the door, and waited, ignoring the ominous sensation in her stomach. (You know the one. It's like when you've just finished going to the top of the roller coaster track and there's that one second of perfect stillness before you're suddenly hurdling toward the ground at 500 mph. Of course, instead of a delightful adrenaline rush, Willow has something much more exciting, like a train wreck, to look forward to.)

The door opened just a crack and a critical eye looked out from behind it. The eye sized her up before the door swung open to reveal the skin-and-bones face and body of a Mrs. Petunia Dursley.

"Hello, Mrs. Dursley?" The woman nodded suspiciously before he face suddenly lit up with an artificial smile.

"Oh, are you our handsome boy's little girlfriend?" Aunt Petunia asked hopefully. This pretty redhead might almost be worthy of her Duddy-kins. (Really, a better word would have been 'deserve' when referring to the overweight pink mass of flesh known as Dudley. However, it should be pointed out that no one, short of perhaps Voldemort himself, deserved to be Dudley's 'better half.' If what was there already were only half... well, lets just say you wouldn't want to see him full-sized.)

Willow laughed uncomfortably in response to Mrs. Dursley's question. Had Harry told her that they were dating? They'd only exchanged a few letters by mail; that hardly qualified as dating in her book. Maybe things were different in the English wizarding world. "Is that what he said?"

Petunia nodded profusely. "He just can't stop talking about you. Seems he can't wait to spend some time over the summer holiday with you." She stepped back, opening the door wider to allow the redhead to enter. She quickly gave her the once-over and was relieved to see that there was no wand hidden on her person. Could never be too careful about *those* types! "Won't you come in?"

Willow cautiously stepped into the house, doubt already creeping into her mind (wouldn't it creep into yours if some guy you never met was already calling you his girlfriend?) She followed Mrs. Dursley into the living room and sat down on the edge of the sofa.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Petunia asked in a syrupy-sweet voice. "We have water, lemonade, iced tea, apple juice, milk, cola…"

"Iced tea would be great, thank you."

Mrs. Dursley nodded curtly after pursing her lips in lips in distaste, as if she had bitten into a sour lemon. (Well, maybe a sour grapefruit. The sour lemon expression was already a permanent fixture on her face and had been so since the world politely informed her that no, it didn't revolve around her, and wouldn't she like to do something nice for a change? One can only assume that her response to this query, the birth and spoiling of Dudley, was a resounding 'no'.) She had hoped this girl wouldn't notice the iced tea option, because now someone would have to make it, and it certainly wouldn't be her. Maybe it was time to make some use of the leeching nephew of hers. "Very well, I'll call the help. James!" She screeched as Willow winced.

When he heard his aunt screech his 'name,' Harry quickly finished the letter and gave it to Hedwig, effectively sneaking her out of her cage, out the window, and into the clear blue sky. Lucky owl. When he heard Petunia shriek again, he quickly dashed to the staircase and began his descent. After walking halfway down the steps, Harry gawked in shock. *She* was Dudley's girlfriend? This pretty, petite young woman was dating the pudgy oaf upstairs? What kind of penance was this girl trying to pay by dating a bully like Dudley?

He noticed the way her (beautiful, green) eyes darted around the room, almost as if she felt she was in danger and didn't want to be there. His eyes narrowed as another thought crossed his mind: had Dudley bullied her into dating him? Well, he would have to put an end to it if that was the case. He didn't even know her name, but something about her made him want to protect her.

Like she needed protection.

In fact, Willow wasn't the least bit worried; at least, not about her safety. She was merely trying to think of a way to get out of this house, away from this woman, and as far removed as possible from this child she was talking about. Physical appearances had never been important to Willow, so it wasn't the many pictures of the pig in a wig that disgusted her. Nor was it Mrs. Dursley's constant bragging about him; Willow would never hold someone's legal guardians against them, especially considering how her own mother had attempted to burn her at the stake and how her parents were in no way, shape, or form reflected in herself. No, it was the stories about how her Duddy-kins (Willow still wasn't sure how a guy named Harry could get the nickname 'Duddy-kins') was 'a real leader' at school and had a way of 'giving people what they deserved.' He sounded like nothing more than a brute to her, and as much as she wanted to spend the summer with one, she had better things to do (While these 'better things' included sorting the garage, cleaning out that ridiculously small space behind the refrigerator that was just wide enough to collect all kinds of refuse but not quite large enough to effectively clean, and becoming the ultimate evil with the intent of destroying the world and all things in it, each of these tasks ranked higher on her to-do list than spending time with 'Duddy-kins').

When Willow heard footsteps, her eyes stopped darting around. "Oh, it looks like my little angel is coming down," Petunia squealed happily.

"Oh, joy," Willow muttered under her breath, fixing her eyes upon the staircase and bracing herself to meet whoever – or whatever – was coming downstairs. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw a young man with unruly dark hair and fantastic green eyes standing at the bottom of the steps.

Her emerald eyes bored into his own, and she gave him a small smile, which he returned in full force. Calling it an 'instant spark' would have been an understatement.

"Hello," He began after the moment had passed, "I'm-"

"On your way to the kitchen. The lady asked for some iced tea. And don't speak unless spoken to!." Petunia Dursley snapped as she turned away from Harry wearing an exasperated look on her face. She slumped onto the sofa. "It's so hard to find good help these days. Don't you agree?" Without waiting for a response, Mrs. Dursley continued on. "Speaking of help, do you have any? Does your father's work allow for it? What kind of work does your father do?"

"*Both* of my parents are doctors," Willow responded coolly. She was no big fan of her mother's, but she deserved half of the credit for the Rosenberg's income. Someone needed to invite this woman out of the fifties.

"You're mother *works*?" Mrs. Dursley asked, apparently scandalized. "Why? Is your father unable to support you two? Oh, you poor thing," she cooed, as Willow gingerly edged away from her on the sofa.

Willow was saved from having to respond when the front door burst open, revealing a wide man with red skin, and thick neck, and a comb-over. Mr. Vernon Dursley had arrived.

Maybe 'saved' was too strong a word.

The same luck that had called Harry downstairs not only conveniently led him into the living room with iced tea at that very moment, but also coerced Dudley into leaving behind the X-Box he had just bashed in to go downstairs and beg mummy for a new one.

All three of them entered at the same time.

Mrs. Dursley clapped her hands together. "Oh, what perfect timing!" she exclaimed, rising from the sofa. "This is Dudley's little girlfriend." She turned to her son. "Here she is, Dudley."

"Who is *she*?" Dudley asked in a low voice that sat between awe and hunger. Only Harry heard him, so only Harry had the privilege of wishing he hadn't. Dudley's jaw dropped when he saw her stand up, and if Harry wasn't mistaken there was a drop of drool sliding down his chin. Add in the bulging eyes, and the picture was complete. Harry held back a laugh. His blonde cousin always had been a charmer.

Mr. Dursley frowned. "What?" he asked his wife loudly, confused. He walked over to where Dudley stood at the bottom of the steps. "His lady love, Vicky, is sitting in the car. I just picked her from work. Figured it would be easier that way, since she's the boss's daughter and all." Put his arm around his son and gave him a squeeze. "Good going, son! Please the boss's daughter and I just might get a raise!" He then noticed the young woman standing next to his wife that had his son's complete, undivided attention. "And you are...?"

"She's pretty, Dad," Dudley replied. "Can we keep her?"

Willow snorted indignantly. She was not a 'kept' woman, especially not for this pig. But Mr. Dursley interrupted her rant before it began.

"Ah. Is the redhead just a tart on the side?" Mr. Dursley shook his head, chuckling. "Always was a ladies' man, just like his old man. Word of advice, though: don't let the old ball and chain catch on." He looked back at Willow. "She's a cute lil' thing, isn't she?"

Willow had had just about enough. As had Harry. And when two of the most powerful witches and wizards in the world have had enough... well, the '...' is enough said. So it should have been no surprise when the room truly erupted into chaos.

*End Fic*

I just can't write anymore right now, but I've been dying to get this prequel out. If enough people like it and feedback it, then there will be more escapades in the Magical Muggle Exchange Program. If not... well, I had fun writing this :)

Did I mention feedback would be nice? ::grins::