Title: Shadows Whisper Back
Author: eena_angel2001
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com
Rating: Overall R
Content: Warning, there is some mention of rape in this fic.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Joss Whedon gets all the credit for BTVS.
Category: BTVS/HP crossover
Pairing: Willow/Harry (cause I want to try it).
Spoilers: Season Two for BTVS and Goblet of Fire for HP.
Summary: Willow's mother has been keeping things from her . . .
Notes: AU, for sure. In BTVS, every up to the end of Season Two holds, except:
1) No Oz/Willow relationship in this fic.
2) Willow and her friends are fifteen.
Notes: Sorry that it took so long to get this out. I've been plagued with finals at school, but they're all over. Now I have ample time for fics and hope to get much work done on this one. Thanks to all the people who reviewed.
Okay, someone pointed out that with the changed ages, then the Angel and Buffy relationship would be kind of gross (her sleeping with him when she was like 14 or 15?). So, I'm going to change that. Angel did not lose his soul that way, he lost it another way. We'll say through something about the Judge and Druscilla. I'm working on it currently, but Buffy and Angel did not have sex.
Part Six
Dumbledore was interesting.
She hadn't had the best trip but to the school. Silence and tense were two very key words revolving around that ride. Professor McGonagall tried to make light conversation and such, but gave up after a while. She didn't want to talk, she didn't want to smile and pretend like everything was okay. Gonagall seemed nice and everything, but she reminded Willow entirely too much of Giles. And that hurt.
Professor Snape was the worst part of the whole trip. He didn't even try to make nice. He just sat there, staring at her but never really looking at her. Instead, he looked forward, looking everywhere around her but never directly at her. And that was bizarre because while he did so, he watched her like a hawk. Everything she did, like twitch or shift, was taken in by Snape with a calculated look. And the absolute worst thing he did was remind her of Snyder. She couldn't believe that she was even missing Snyder, but low and behold! She must be very homesick.
But Dumbledore was interesting. He had been waiting for her inside the school. Willow had allowed McGonagall and Snape to march her up the school stairs, through the hallways to come to a stop in front of a large gargoyle. Willow looked expectantly between her two guard dogs, as she quickly had figured them to be, and the statue. McGonagall offered her a smile while Snape just did his staring straight forward thing.
"Carmel Popcorn."
Willow gave a bit of a start when she heard McGonagall speak. And she became confused when she had heard what the professor had said. But all of that was cleared from her thoughts when the statue began to move.
"Come along," was the only instructions given to her. Willow frowned, watching in interest as the statue started spiralling upwards, revealing a staircase as it did. She felt a hand pushing her, so she hopped onto a step, watching Snape and McGonagall follow her. Snape was the one who had given her the push, and he had kept his hand on her shoulder. It felt heavy, in a strange way. And he still wouldn't look at her directly.
Finally, the stairwell stopped moving. Willow felt the slight push from Snape again and moved forward. She found herself in a large office lined with bookshelves and moving pictures.
She frowned, stepping closer to look at one more closely. She had never gotten over the bizarre Wizard photos that moved. When she had seen her first at the Ministry, it had been damn near frightening. Then her parents had explained them to her, but they failed to answer the most pertinent question she had.
What the hell made the pictures move?
Her parents hadn't had an answer for her. No one did really, it was infuriating for her curious little mind.
The Wizard she had been looking at smiled at her. She found herself giving him a ghost of a smile, turning into a full blown one when he started spinning in his chair and generally fooling around. She bit back a giggle as she watched his trip on his robes and fall rather clumsily behind his desk. He peeked his head back over the top, tossing her a smile and a wink before sobering.
She turned, seeing that Snape was watching over her shoulder now. The Wizard took one look at the stern face of the professor and stopped his performance. Willow pouted and then sighed, giving the Wizard one last smile before making her way to one of the office chairs.
Settling in, she looked around, becoming mesmerized by the large red bird perched next to the desk. She gave a gasp at the sight of it, taking in its vibrant colours and twinkle in the eye. The bird looked back at her as she watched it, squawking a bit and ruffling its feathers.
"He's a phoenix."
The statement, answering her unspoken question, startled Willow. Her eyes went to find the source of the voice, stopping at the ancient figure making his way down from the upper level. She felt nothing but absolute disbelief at the sight of him. This couldn't be Dumbledore. Her parents had raved for hours about how strong and powerful Dumbledore was. But this man was old, very old. Practically fragile old.
But then he lifted his head and she got a good look at his eyes. There was a fire in those blue orbs, something Willow didn't see even in the youngest of people. And a twinkle at that would rival the one Xander had in his eye. It was downright mischievous.
"Hello," he spoke, his voice soft but strong at the same time. He came to a stop right in front of her, looking down at her amusedly.
"You must be Willow," he declared, giving her a bit of a wink. "You look just like your mother, with a good mix of your aunt as well."
Willow couldn't help but grin at him, giggling when he winked again at the mention of her aunt. She bit her lip after that giggle left her, trying to sober up again. She schooled her face into her "I'm-not-happy-so- don't-even-bother" look. It had worked the entire summer at the Ministry.
But seemed to fail here. Dumbledore just gave a bit of a smile and made to sit at his desk.
"Thank you professors," he continued to say. "Now that Miss Rosenburg is here, I'm sure you want to attend to House matters."
It was a dismissal if she ever heard one. But the two professors seem to take it in stride. Both left, Snape in a whisper of cloaks. How the hell that guy did that all the time was beyond her.
"Now Miss Rosenburg," he began, giving her yet another smile. "I understand that this is difficult for you-"
"Then let me go home," she interrupted, arms folded across her chest. "Because I don't like it here. No offence."
"None taken," he waved off. "I understand that some people have been somewhat leery of your presence-"
"They're all scared of me," she blurted out, tears threatening in her eyes. "That is if they don't hate me horribly already. It's not my fault."
"I never said it was," Dumbledore replied, face going serious. "It was all very much out of your control. But you shouldn't let any of the circumstances of your lineage bother you. You're not evil Willow, and no one here thinks you are. But you are in danger-"
"I've never even heard of him before!" Willow protested. "He doesn't even care about me. I mean, I'm fifteen! He had all this time to come and get me if he really wanted-"
"You and I are both aware he knew nothing of your existence," Dumbledore interjected gently. "And I understand that you find this all to be horribly unfair to you, but its really not. For the time being, Hogwarts is the only place you can be safe."
"You can't guarantee that," she argued. Dumbledore gave her a wane smile at that.
"Well, I can't," he agreed. "But I have this feeling about it. If Voldemort wanted to go against me directly, he would have done so already. I'm sure you know that Harry Potter goes here."
She gave a nod.
"Yes, well, Voldemort has been most concerned with killing that young boy for a matter of years now," Dumbledore shook his head. "And he has yet to succeed in any attempt. Voldemort will not try to come here directly to collect you-"
"But that doesn't mean he can't send someone else," Willow muttered. "I'm sorry, I know this is a big risk for you to take. I know that HE is one hell of a bad guy, but that he probably is looking for me right now. And all that makes me being here bad for everyone else, but you have to understand. I've been taking care of bad guys for a little while myself. I'd feel much safer at home, with my friends."
"I doubt your friends would be able to stop Voldemort," he told her resignedly.
"You don't know my friends."
"I don't," he nodded. "But you don't know Voldemort. I do, and that's why I can tell you, this is the best thing for you Willow. After all, there is the matter of your powers to deal with. Without proper training, there is no telling what could happen. You might lose control, find yourself embroiled so deep into the Dark Arts that you could never recover."
"I'm not that stupid," she objected.
"But you are that young," he responded. "In time I believe that you will see how this was for the best."
"How much time?" Willow muttered darkly. Dumbledore only had a laugh for her, coming out from behind his desk and making his way to her side.
"You don't have to hate this right from the start," he chided her. "I know you think we're all working against you, but we're not. A lot of people went to a lot of trouble to make sure you were safe. Shouldn't you at least be willing to give this a shot?"
Willow sighed, pouting furiously.
"Sure, be reasonable about it," the redhead huffed. Dumbledore chuckled again, extending his hand to the witch.
"Come, the Welcome Feast starts soon. You need to be sorted first."
"Why bother?" Willow grumbled, getting to her feet. "Haven't you hear? I'm destined for Slytherin."
Dumbledore only smiled, leading her out of the office.
"Nothing is set in stone my dear."
*****
She was nervous.
This was difficult, even more so than it should be. Why the hell had she agreed to this? It was rather cruel and unusual, and despite Dumbledore's claims, she knew it had to be some sort of punishment.
She hated being in front of crowds.
Her green eyes darted out over the crowds of students in the Hall. She found Draco quickly enough, the blonde sitting up straighter as he smirked. He had cleared a seat right next to him, winking at Willow several times to let her know. He was saving her a seat among the Slytherin.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that. It had the potential for being bad. She had heard the talk about Slytherin. Apparently Slytherin was the house to all Dark Wizards, or the such. And her biological father had been the Slytherin to end all Slytherins. All in all, everyone thought she was going there.
Willow was trying to figure out why she felt wrong about that. From her time here, Slytherins had been the only students willing to associate with her. They weren't afraid of her or angry at her. No, they seemed to revere her, which might be why she was feeling something was off. Why the hell would they want to worship her?
Unless they already worshipped her father.
Her eyes fell on the Gryffindor table, noting her cousins and Harry and Hermione were watching in great curiosity. She found Harry's eyes, perplexed when he smiled reassuringly at her. She was even more confused when she gave him a little smile back before her attention was drawn to McGonagall at her side. The professor held the Sorting Hat in her hands, looking expectantly at Willow. The redhead gulped and sat down on the chair.
The hat fell onto her head and began moving. She wasn't so surprised, watching it sing and shout before with the First Years. So she sat back patiently, waiting for the Hat to make its inevitable decision.
"Well, aren't you a puzzle?"
It was talking to her. Willow frowned, eyes going upwards.
"Huh?"
"That's about how I feel," the Hat laughed. "Now, you are a puzzle. What to do with such a perplexing girl?"
"Aren't you putting me in Slytherin?" she asked in confusion.
"Do you want to be in Slytherin?" it asked in response.
"No," she blurted out quickly. "Well, I don't know. I just thought you were supposed to make the decision for me."
"I am," the Hat agreed. "But you see Willow, you're a bit hard to sort. Your mother was a Gryffindor, as was your aunt. And what a pair of Gryffindors they were!"
"Everyone keeps saying stuff like that," Willow mused. "What exactly did those two do?"
"Well, you could ask McGonagall for the gritty details," the Hat laughed. "And trust me, it's an interesting story. Your mother took great delight in mischief."
"My mother? You do realize that my mother is Sheila Rosenburg, don't you?"
"Yes," the Hat affirmed. "It was a shock when she married Ira. He was Ravenclaw, and quite the serious sutdent. He was Head Boy, one of the prides of the school. And I see a lot of Ira in you-"
"Do you see any of HIM in me?"
The Hat was silent for a second.
"He is a part of you Willow," the Hat sighed. "And yes, there is some of him in you, but it's just DNA. You were right the first few times. You're Sheila and Ira's daughter, you don't belong to him."
"You're putting me in Slytherin are you?" she whispered.
"Well, I think I should put you where you would do the most good," the Hat mused. "And as well, would have the most fun. I can tell by the way people are looking at you, putting you in Slytherin wouldn't be the wisest of choices. Besides, I think alongside your cousins, especially Fred and George, this school would turn out to be far more interesting than ever before."
"Wha-"
The Hat cut her off, bellowing it's decision loud out across the Hall.
"GRYFFINDOR!!!"
*****
Author: eena_angel2001
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com
Rating: Overall R
Content: Warning, there is some mention of rape in this fic.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Joss Whedon gets all the credit for BTVS.
Category: BTVS/HP crossover
Pairing: Willow/Harry (cause I want to try it).
Spoilers: Season Two for BTVS and Goblet of Fire for HP.
Summary: Willow's mother has been keeping things from her . . .
Notes: AU, for sure. In BTVS, every up to the end of Season Two holds, except:
1) No Oz/Willow relationship in this fic.
2) Willow and her friends are fifteen.
Notes: Sorry that it took so long to get this out. I've been plagued with finals at school, but they're all over. Now I have ample time for fics and hope to get much work done on this one. Thanks to all the people who reviewed.
Okay, someone pointed out that with the changed ages, then the Angel and Buffy relationship would be kind of gross (her sleeping with him when she was like 14 or 15?). So, I'm going to change that. Angel did not lose his soul that way, he lost it another way. We'll say through something about the Judge and Druscilla. I'm working on it currently, but Buffy and Angel did not have sex.
Part Six
Dumbledore was interesting.
She hadn't had the best trip but to the school. Silence and tense were two very key words revolving around that ride. Professor McGonagall tried to make light conversation and such, but gave up after a while. She didn't want to talk, she didn't want to smile and pretend like everything was okay. Gonagall seemed nice and everything, but she reminded Willow entirely too much of Giles. And that hurt.
Professor Snape was the worst part of the whole trip. He didn't even try to make nice. He just sat there, staring at her but never really looking at her. Instead, he looked forward, looking everywhere around her but never directly at her. And that was bizarre because while he did so, he watched her like a hawk. Everything she did, like twitch or shift, was taken in by Snape with a calculated look. And the absolute worst thing he did was remind her of Snyder. She couldn't believe that she was even missing Snyder, but low and behold! She must be very homesick.
But Dumbledore was interesting. He had been waiting for her inside the school. Willow had allowed McGonagall and Snape to march her up the school stairs, through the hallways to come to a stop in front of a large gargoyle. Willow looked expectantly between her two guard dogs, as she quickly had figured them to be, and the statue. McGonagall offered her a smile while Snape just did his staring straight forward thing.
"Carmel Popcorn."
Willow gave a bit of a start when she heard McGonagall speak. And she became confused when she had heard what the professor had said. But all of that was cleared from her thoughts when the statue began to move.
"Come along," was the only instructions given to her. Willow frowned, watching in interest as the statue started spiralling upwards, revealing a staircase as it did. She felt a hand pushing her, so she hopped onto a step, watching Snape and McGonagall follow her. Snape was the one who had given her the push, and he had kept his hand on her shoulder. It felt heavy, in a strange way. And he still wouldn't look at her directly.
Finally, the stairwell stopped moving. Willow felt the slight push from Snape again and moved forward. She found herself in a large office lined with bookshelves and moving pictures.
She frowned, stepping closer to look at one more closely. She had never gotten over the bizarre Wizard photos that moved. When she had seen her first at the Ministry, it had been damn near frightening. Then her parents had explained them to her, but they failed to answer the most pertinent question she had.
What the hell made the pictures move?
Her parents hadn't had an answer for her. No one did really, it was infuriating for her curious little mind.
The Wizard she had been looking at smiled at her. She found herself giving him a ghost of a smile, turning into a full blown one when he started spinning in his chair and generally fooling around. She bit back a giggle as she watched his trip on his robes and fall rather clumsily behind his desk. He peeked his head back over the top, tossing her a smile and a wink before sobering.
She turned, seeing that Snape was watching over her shoulder now. The Wizard took one look at the stern face of the professor and stopped his performance. Willow pouted and then sighed, giving the Wizard one last smile before making her way to one of the office chairs.
Settling in, she looked around, becoming mesmerized by the large red bird perched next to the desk. She gave a gasp at the sight of it, taking in its vibrant colours and twinkle in the eye. The bird looked back at her as she watched it, squawking a bit and ruffling its feathers.
"He's a phoenix."
The statement, answering her unspoken question, startled Willow. Her eyes went to find the source of the voice, stopping at the ancient figure making his way down from the upper level. She felt nothing but absolute disbelief at the sight of him. This couldn't be Dumbledore. Her parents had raved for hours about how strong and powerful Dumbledore was. But this man was old, very old. Practically fragile old.
But then he lifted his head and she got a good look at his eyes. There was a fire in those blue orbs, something Willow didn't see even in the youngest of people. And a twinkle at that would rival the one Xander had in his eye. It was downright mischievous.
"Hello," he spoke, his voice soft but strong at the same time. He came to a stop right in front of her, looking down at her amusedly.
"You must be Willow," he declared, giving her a bit of a wink. "You look just like your mother, with a good mix of your aunt as well."
Willow couldn't help but grin at him, giggling when he winked again at the mention of her aunt. She bit her lip after that giggle left her, trying to sober up again. She schooled her face into her "I'm-not-happy-so- don't-even-bother" look. It had worked the entire summer at the Ministry.
But seemed to fail here. Dumbledore just gave a bit of a smile and made to sit at his desk.
"Thank you professors," he continued to say. "Now that Miss Rosenburg is here, I'm sure you want to attend to House matters."
It was a dismissal if she ever heard one. But the two professors seem to take it in stride. Both left, Snape in a whisper of cloaks. How the hell that guy did that all the time was beyond her.
"Now Miss Rosenburg," he began, giving her yet another smile. "I understand that this is difficult for you-"
"Then let me go home," she interrupted, arms folded across her chest. "Because I don't like it here. No offence."
"None taken," he waved off. "I understand that some people have been somewhat leery of your presence-"
"They're all scared of me," she blurted out, tears threatening in her eyes. "That is if they don't hate me horribly already. It's not my fault."
"I never said it was," Dumbledore replied, face going serious. "It was all very much out of your control. But you shouldn't let any of the circumstances of your lineage bother you. You're not evil Willow, and no one here thinks you are. But you are in danger-"
"I've never even heard of him before!" Willow protested. "He doesn't even care about me. I mean, I'm fifteen! He had all this time to come and get me if he really wanted-"
"You and I are both aware he knew nothing of your existence," Dumbledore interjected gently. "And I understand that you find this all to be horribly unfair to you, but its really not. For the time being, Hogwarts is the only place you can be safe."
"You can't guarantee that," she argued. Dumbledore gave her a wane smile at that.
"Well, I can't," he agreed. "But I have this feeling about it. If Voldemort wanted to go against me directly, he would have done so already. I'm sure you know that Harry Potter goes here."
She gave a nod.
"Yes, well, Voldemort has been most concerned with killing that young boy for a matter of years now," Dumbledore shook his head. "And he has yet to succeed in any attempt. Voldemort will not try to come here directly to collect you-"
"But that doesn't mean he can't send someone else," Willow muttered. "I'm sorry, I know this is a big risk for you to take. I know that HE is one hell of a bad guy, but that he probably is looking for me right now. And all that makes me being here bad for everyone else, but you have to understand. I've been taking care of bad guys for a little while myself. I'd feel much safer at home, with my friends."
"I doubt your friends would be able to stop Voldemort," he told her resignedly.
"You don't know my friends."
"I don't," he nodded. "But you don't know Voldemort. I do, and that's why I can tell you, this is the best thing for you Willow. After all, there is the matter of your powers to deal with. Without proper training, there is no telling what could happen. You might lose control, find yourself embroiled so deep into the Dark Arts that you could never recover."
"I'm not that stupid," she objected.
"But you are that young," he responded. "In time I believe that you will see how this was for the best."
"How much time?" Willow muttered darkly. Dumbledore only had a laugh for her, coming out from behind his desk and making his way to her side.
"You don't have to hate this right from the start," he chided her. "I know you think we're all working against you, but we're not. A lot of people went to a lot of trouble to make sure you were safe. Shouldn't you at least be willing to give this a shot?"
Willow sighed, pouting furiously.
"Sure, be reasonable about it," the redhead huffed. Dumbledore chuckled again, extending his hand to the witch.
"Come, the Welcome Feast starts soon. You need to be sorted first."
"Why bother?" Willow grumbled, getting to her feet. "Haven't you hear? I'm destined for Slytherin."
Dumbledore only smiled, leading her out of the office.
"Nothing is set in stone my dear."
*****
She was nervous.
This was difficult, even more so than it should be. Why the hell had she agreed to this? It was rather cruel and unusual, and despite Dumbledore's claims, she knew it had to be some sort of punishment.
She hated being in front of crowds.
Her green eyes darted out over the crowds of students in the Hall. She found Draco quickly enough, the blonde sitting up straighter as he smirked. He had cleared a seat right next to him, winking at Willow several times to let her know. He was saving her a seat among the Slytherin.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that. It had the potential for being bad. She had heard the talk about Slytherin. Apparently Slytherin was the house to all Dark Wizards, or the such. And her biological father had been the Slytherin to end all Slytherins. All in all, everyone thought she was going there.
Willow was trying to figure out why she felt wrong about that. From her time here, Slytherins had been the only students willing to associate with her. They weren't afraid of her or angry at her. No, they seemed to revere her, which might be why she was feeling something was off. Why the hell would they want to worship her?
Unless they already worshipped her father.
Her eyes fell on the Gryffindor table, noting her cousins and Harry and Hermione were watching in great curiosity. She found Harry's eyes, perplexed when he smiled reassuringly at her. She was even more confused when she gave him a little smile back before her attention was drawn to McGonagall at her side. The professor held the Sorting Hat in her hands, looking expectantly at Willow. The redhead gulped and sat down on the chair.
The hat fell onto her head and began moving. She wasn't so surprised, watching it sing and shout before with the First Years. So she sat back patiently, waiting for the Hat to make its inevitable decision.
"Well, aren't you a puzzle?"
It was talking to her. Willow frowned, eyes going upwards.
"Huh?"
"That's about how I feel," the Hat laughed. "Now, you are a puzzle. What to do with such a perplexing girl?"
"Aren't you putting me in Slytherin?" she asked in confusion.
"Do you want to be in Slytherin?" it asked in response.
"No," she blurted out quickly. "Well, I don't know. I just thought you were supposed to make the decision for me."
"I am," the Hat agreed. "But you see Willow, you're a bit hard to sort. Your mother was a Gryffindor, as was your aunt. And what a pair of Gryffindors they were!"
"Everyone keeps saying stuff like that," Willow mused. "What exactly did those two do?"
"Well, you could ask McGonagall for the gritty details," the Hat laughed. "And trust me, it's an interesting story. Your mother took great delight in mischief."
"My mother? You do realize that my mother is Sheila Rosenburg, don't you?"
"Yes," the Hat affirmed. "It was a shock when she married Ira. He was Ravenclaw, and quite the serious sutdent. He was Head Boy, one of the prides of the school. And I see a lot of Ira in you-"
"Do you see any of HIM in me?"
The Hat was silent for a second.
"He is a part of you Willow," the Hat sighed. "And yes, there is some of him in you, but it's just DNA. You were right the first few times. You're Sheila and Ira's daughter, you don't belong to him."
"You're putting me in Slytherin are you?" she whispered.
"Well, I think I should put you where you would do the most good," the Hat mused. "And as well, would have the most fun. I can tell by the way people are looking at you, putting you in Slytherin wouldn't be the wisest of choices. Besides, I think alongside your cousins, especially Fred and George, this school would turn out to be far more interesting than ever before."
"Wha-"
The Hat cut her off, bellowing it's decision loud out across the Hall.
"GRYFFINDOR!!!"
*****