A little bit of background before I get started....this story is a crossover between Buffy and Harry Potter. This angle has been taken several hundred times, but I don't give a damn. It's a good idea. Anyway. Occurs after Order of the Phoenix and S7 Buffy. Enjoy.
"What do we do now, Buffy?" asked the group around her.
Buffy smiled, slowly. As Faith had pointed out, she wasn't alone anymore. But still, Buffy had a duty.
"We need to get into contact with all the new Slayers everywhere," she replied.
"Well...there's only one person I know of who can help us with that," Xander said.
Everyone looked blank.
"Angel? Weren't you listening? He owns Wolfram and Hart now," Xander explained, exasperated. "Am I the only one who pays attention to these things?"
"We were slightly preoccupied with other things, Xander," Willow replied, seriously.
"Well, who's in favor of going to LA?" Buffy asked.
"Now this is a democracy?" Giles asked.
"If you'd rather I told you what to do again...." Buffy asked, trailing off.
"No!" everyone yelled.
"Though so. Now, lets try again..."
"Sounds great," Dawn said, looking around for support.
"I'm in," Xander replied.
"Me as well," Giles.
"Sure," Willow.
Everyone turned to Faith.
"Well, I suppose its just a stop off before I head back to jail...so what the hell," she said, grinning.
"Then its settled," Buffy said, and everyone went back to the bus. But Buffy held Faith back for a moment.
"Faith...could I have a word with you?" she asked.
"Sure, B. What's up?" Faith asked.
"I was thinking...you and I are the only two people alive who really know what its like to be a Slayer. We have a lot of Slayers to train now, so I was wondering if you'd stay with us for a while. You know," Buffy continued, before she lost her resolve, "stay out of jail. Your experience is very valuable. I'd hate to lose that. Besides, I think you've got the whole redemption thing taken care of." She motioned toward the pit that had been Sunnydale.
"I appreciate that, B, but you're wrong."
Buffy was puzzled. "Huh?"
"I'll never 'have the whole redemption thing taken care of'," Faith explained. "Just isn't happening. Sorry," she added, and Buffy could tell that she really was, too.
"Look," Buffy said, hardening. "You're a murderous bitch, and I doubt that I'll ever really trust you again."
"Thanks," Faith said, dryly. "That supposed to help convince me?"
"The point," Buffy said, cutting her off. "is that I need you, despite that. You're the only other person in the world who understands what these girls are about to go through. Why go back to prison if you can do some real good? Sitting in there is doing no good. Your not going to go evil and kill anyone again. Besides," and now, Buffy was gritting her teeth. "the others trust you."
Faith was mollified. "I don't know, B."
"Okay, if you're too scared to help, I'll understand." Buffy said, pissed, but secretly desperate. She really did need Faith.
"Wait a sec, who said anything about scared?" Faith asked.
"Too scared to help me now that the more difficult work is here. I understand," Buffy said, turning around and praying that this was going to work.
"I'm not scared!" Faith said. "Its just..."
"What?" Buffy asked, softening.
"I got used to the fact that jail was my future," Faith said, looking incredibly like a scared child. "I got used to the fact that it was what I deserved. And I got used to the fact that jail, giving up my freedom, was the only way to make up for my crimes. Think about it, B...what else could I have done?"
"Nothing, then. But now you can really make a difference." Buffy said, driving her point home.
Faith still looked a bit unsure. "If you say so, B...I'm gonna trust you on this one."
Buffy grinned. Phew. That was close. "Good. Go get the bus ready. I'd like a moment alone."
"Sure thing, B." Faith said, but her expression was, once again, unreadable.
Buffy once more turned to the ruins of Sunnydale, as Faith walked back to the bus. In spite of all the horrors the damn place put her through...she was still going to miss it. It had been her home, after all. Home... she though. Where will home be now?
A single tear trickled down her face. But then, it was gone, and she turned away. After all she was the...a...Slayer, and therefore, she had to be strong.
Harry Potter's dreams were being disturbed. Girls...lots of girls...fighting...disfigured men...vampires...a woman with white hair...an enormous spell...an explosion...Harry woke up violently.
Panting slightly, Harry reached onto his bedside table for a quill, ink, and parchment. Harry had taken to recording all of his odd dreams as soon as they happened, to report to the Order. Intrusion into his dreams had gotten him into enough trouble already.
Lots of women...girls...fighting vampires, Harry thought as he wrote. The dream was already fading. Woman with white hair casting a spell...really powerful...world wide consequences...It was gone.
Harry looked down as the few notes he'd taken. Those things he'd managed to write had stayed in his mind, but the rest, if there had been more, was gone.
Harry took up his quill again. First dream that I've really been suspicious of, he wrote. I'm not really sure if its anything. That's all I can remember. This could very well be nothing. Thanks, Harry Potter.
Only when he was done did Harry stop to examine the situation. He'd been one track ever since waking - he had to be in order to get the dream into writing. Now, however, he stepped back and looked at his situation.
Harry had been with the Dursley's for barely a week now. They'd ceased to be horrible to him - Moody's threat was obviously on the minds of his aunt and uncle. They'd also ceased to acknowledge Harry's existence. Harry didn't mind; it was better this way. Besides, Harry didn't really want anyone to talk to.
Harry sealed up the envelope with his dream letter in it and walked over to Hedwig's cage. He wondered if he were being stupid - it was just a dream, after all. But just a dream had landed him in a rather unpleasant situation, and Harry was determined never to allow that to happen again.
Harry was half way to Hedwig's perch (the cage simply wasn't necessary now) before he realized that Hedwig was still hunting. Changing direction mid way, Harry went over to the window. Pitch black. Turning back to his clock, Harry came to find out that it was one in the morning. No chance that Hedwig would be back for hours. Might as well get a bit more sleep, Harry thought.
Nothing doing. He couldn't sleep. The dream had been so vivid...Harry was convinced that it had actually happened. Why he had seen it, though, was a complete mystery.
Harry mulled things over in his head and considered the possibilities. He had only ever seen stuff like that - clairvoyance, it was called - when Voldemort was somehow involved. But Voldemort hadn't been in the dream...had he?
There was a deep presence of evil, Harry was sure. And vampires! Harry had never seen a vampire, and yet he was sure that the grossly disfigured things were vampires. Again, how he knew, he wasn't sure. Just another mystery to bring up to the Order.
Against his will, and his original assumption, Harry dosed off. When he awoke, the sun was shining through the window and Hedwig was upon her perch.
"Morning, Hedwig," Harry said, distracted.
Hedwig hooted in response. She already had the letter in her beak. Harry walked over and attached the letter to her leg.
"Deliver this to the Order's headquarters, okay?" he asked. Hedwig understood. She'd been there several times already that summer.
As he watched Hedwig fly out the window, Harry wondered what he would do that day. There wasn't much to do, and he was almost bored; almost. The Dursley's weren't even giving him chores to do anymore. He was allowed to prepare his own meals, come and go as he pleased...it was more freedom then Harry had ever enjoyed at Privet Drive.
Even thus, Harry often found himself bored. The problem was that he simply didn't know what to do with himself. He was almost completely consumed in the events of the last months.
Knowing that he would have to become a murderer to survive; watching Sirius die; it all seemed to bleed together with all of Harry's previous tortures into one big, swirling ball of misery. His seclusion from his friends seemed only to reinforce this.
Unable to think of anything better to do, Harry trudged downstairs to have breakfast. Uncle Vernon was already at the table, reading the paper.
Harry sat down, his eyes blank and unfocused. When he saw the head line of the World Monitor, however, he jumped up with such force that his chair flew back across the room.
"Give me that!" he yelled, barely remembering who he was yelling at. His focus was entirely on the paper.
"What...?" Uncle Vernon yelled, startled.
"The paper! Now!" Harry yelled again.
For a moment, Uncle Vernon looked outraged. But then, remembering Moody, he deflated.
"Uh...here..." he said, and retreated quickly, as though afraid that Harry might curse him at any moment.
Harry ignored Uncle Vernon completely. Instead, he turned to the Monitor and began to read under the line, "American Town Completely Destroyed; No Apparent Cause".
SUNNYDALE, CA, USA - Once a middle sized, suburban college town, it now appears as though Sunnydale has been completely, and inexplicably, erased from existence.
Travelers intent on stopping off in Sunnydale last night discovered that the town was little more than an enormous crater. Nothing of the town remains.
Police, today, are baffled as to what happened.
"Quite frankly, we don't have a clue," says California State Police Chief Marcus Jones. "Yesterday, Sunnydale was fine. Now it's a big hole in the ground."
No survivors of the...disappearance...of Sunnydale have yet been found.
Previously unreleased documents paint a very strange picture of Sunnydale. For starters, the High School, only recently rebuilt after its destruction four years ago, has a student mortality rate of more than forty percent. To top things off, men, women, and children disappear without a trace from Sunnydale's streets on an almost nightly basis.
Furthermore, reports of gruesome, disfigured creatures have been coming out of Sunnydale for years. In the past seven years we've heard everything from these people - vampires, demons, secret government programs, even fairy tale monsters and hell gods. Now, however, these reports of magical creatures are becoming more believable.
More information on the apparent destruction of Sunnydale in our next issue - provided that more information becomes available.
Harry was sure that the destruction of this American town had something to do with his dream. Was it possible that he had witnessed the cause of this destruction? But why?
Harry, boredom forgotten, had transferred over to frustration. He was wholly unprepared for the owl that plummeted through the open kitchen window.
"Errol!" Harry cried, and picked up the bird, brushing bits of bacon off his wings. Errol hooted, weakly. There was a letter attached to this leg.
Feeling that the Dursley's fear of him didn't stretch far enough to gloss over an owl demolishing their breakfast table, Harry grabbed Errol and went upstairs with him.
Once in his own room, Harry detached the letter. Wondering, in the midst of the events of the morning, what was going on now, Harry opened it and read:
Harry,
There has been an incident. Arthur has already gone to get you. IT IS IMPERRITIVE THAT WE GET YOU AWAY FROM THE DURSLEY'S. The entire magical world has been destabilized, temporarily. The magic protecting you at Privet Drive may not be in effect right now. Watch your back until Arthur gets there - he's had to use a broom, no Apparition due to this event. Don't worry Harry, but don't get complacent either. See you soon.
The Weasley's
Harry looked up. Magical world destabilized... he thought. This was colossal. The magic that protected him at the Dursley's was ancient...incredibly powerful. He couldn't imagine anything that was more powerful.
But, then again, that white-haired witch...she was undoubtedly the cause. She was powerful. And she'd apparently used that power to destroy an entire town.
Harry looked out the window. It was crazy to think that Voldemort would be there. After all, there was little chance that Voldemort even knew that Harry was vulnerable.
Realizing that Mr. Weasley would be arriving soon, and that he would need to be ready when Mr. Weasley arrived, Harry began to pack, fast. The noise attracted Aunt Petunia.
"What are you doing, boy?" she asked.
"Leaving," Harry replied, shortly.
"You know your not allowed..." Aunt Petunia began, but Harry interrupted her.
"I am now," he said, and thrust the letter at her.
She read it, and then, her eyes widening, bolted from the room. Harry heard her yelling that they needed to go, quickly.
Harry, himself, sped up. Somehow, Aunt Petunia's panic had worried him, too. It really shouldn't have; he should have expected it; but still, hearing it out loud was unnerving.
As he was finishing with his trunk and dragging it down the stairs, he heard the front door open.
"Harry?" it was Mr. Weasley.
"I'm here! Just getting my stuff," Harry replied from the stairs.
"Quick, Harry! I've got your trunk. Get on your Firebolt. Don't wait for me, just go! I'll catch up," he said, heaving the trunk onto Ron's Cleansweep 11 and muttering a charm for lessening the weight.
Harry didn't stop to consider. He jumped onto his Firebolt and took off, pelting for the Burrow.
As Harry ascended and pointed his broom in the direction of the Burrow, he looked back. Mr. Weasley was lifting off. Just then, 4 Privet Drive exploded.
"Mr. Weasley!" Harry yelled, for he could not see Mr. Weasley.
"I'm fine! Just go!" Mr. Weasley's voice came through the smoke, though Harry still could not see him.
The urgency in his voice made up Harry's mind - he dove straight for the house, looking to help Mr. Weasley. But instead of finding Mr. Weasley with that look, Harry found five Death Eaters...and Lord Voldemort, staring up at him with a bone chilling grin.
That's it for the first chapter...I don't know when/if I'll come out with a second one. Please r/r and let me know if you want more, what you'd have changed, what you want to see...you probably know the drill. I like flames, too, so if you feel compelled to call my work a 'pile of lice infested rabbit dung', go ahead. That's it for now...
"What do we do now, Buffy?" asked the group around her.
Buffy smiled, slowly. As Faith had pointed out, she wasn't alone anymore. But still, Buffy had a duty.
"We need to get into contact with all the new Slayers everywhere," she replied.
"Well...there's only one person I know of who can help us with that," Xander said.
Everyone looked blank.
"Angel? Weren't you listening? He owns Wolfram and Hart now," Xander explained, exasperated. "Am I the only one who pays attention to these things?"
"We were slightly preoccupied with other things, Xander," Willow replied, seriously.
"Well, who's in favor of going to LA?" Buffy asked.
"Now this is a democracy?" Giles asked.
"If you'd rather I told you what to do again...." Buffy asked, trailing off.
"No!" everyone yelled.
"Though so. Now, lets try again..."
"Sounds great," Dawn said, looking around for support.
"I'm in," Xander replied.
"Me as well," Giles.
"Sure," Willow.
Everyone turned to Faith.
"Well, I suppose its just a stop off before I head back to jail...so what the hell," she said, grinning.
"Then its settled," Buffy said, and everyone went back to the bus. But Buffy held Faith back for a moment.
"Faith...could I have a word with you?" she asked.
"Sure, B. What's up?" Faith asked.
"I was thinking...you and I are the only two people alive who really know what its like to be a Slayer. We have a lot of Slayers to train now, so I was wondering if you'd stay with us for a while. You know," Buffy continued, before she lost her resolve, "stay out of jail. Your experience is very valuable. I'd hate to lose that. Besides, I think you've got the whole redemption thing taken care of." She motioned toward the pit that had been Sunnydale.
"I appreciate that, B, but you're wrong."
Buffy was puzzled. "Huh?"
"I'll never 'have the whole redemption thing taken care of'," Faith explained. "Just isn't happening. Sorry," she added, and Buffy could tell that she really was, too.
"Look," Buffy said, hardening. "You're a murderous bitch, and I doubt that I'll ever really trust you again."
"Thanks," Faith said, dryly. "That supposed to help convince me?"
"The point," Buffy said, cutting her off. "is that I need you, despite that. You're the only other person in the world who understands what these girls are about to go through. Why go back to prison if you can do some real good? Sitting in there is doing no good. Your not going to go evil and kill anyone again. Besides," and now, Buffy was gritting her teeth. "the others trust you."
Faith was mollified. "I don't know, B."
"Okay, if you're too scared to help, I'll understand." Buffy said, pissed, but secretly desperate. She really did need Faith.
"Wait a sec, who said anything about scared?" Faith asked.
"Too scared to help me now that the more difficult work is here. I understand," Buffy said, turning around and praying that this was going to work.
"I'm not scared!" Faith said. "Its just..."
"What?" Buffy asked, softening.
"I got used to the fact that jail was my future," Faith said, looking incredibly like a scared child. "I got used to the fact that it was what I deserved. And I got used to the fact that jail, giving up my freedom, was the only way to make up for my crimes. Think about it, B...what else could I have done?"
"Nothing, then. But now you can really make a difference." Buffy said, driving her point home.
Faith still looked a bit unsure. "If you say so, B...I'm gonna trust you on this one."
Buffy grinned. Phew. That was close. "Good. Go get the bus ready. I'd like a moment alone."
"Sure thing, B." Faith said, but her expression was, once again, unreadable.
Buffy once more turned to the ruins of Sunnydale, as Faith walked back to the bus. In spite of all the horrors the damn place put her through...she was still going to miss it. It had been her home, after all. Home... she though. Where will home be now?
A single tear trickled down her face. But then, it was gone, and she turned away. After all she was the...a...Slayer, and therefore, she had to be strong.
Harry Potter's dreams were being disturbed. Girls...lots of girls...fighting...disfigured men...vampires...a woman with white hair...an enormous spell...an explosion...Harry woke up violently.
Panting slightly, Harry reached onto his bedside table for a quill, ink, and parchment. Harry had taken to recording all of his odd dreams as soon as they happened, to report to the Order. Intrusion into his dreams had gotten him into enough trouble already.
Lots of women...girls...fighting vampires, Harry thought as he wrote. The dream was already fading. Woman with white hair casting a spell...really powerful...world wide consequences...It was gone.
Harry looked down as the few notes he'd taken. Those things he'd managed to write had stayed in his mind, but the rest, if there had been more, was gone.
Harry took up his quill again. First dream that I've really been suspicious of, he wrote. I'm not really sure if its anything. That's all I can remember. This could very well be nothing. Thanks, Harry Potter.
Only when he was done did Harry stop to examine the situation. He'd been one track ever since waking - he had to be in order to get the dream into writing. Now, however, he stepped back and looked at his situation.
Harry had been with the Dursley's for barely a week now. They'd ceased to be horrible to him - Moody's threat was obviously on the minds of his aunt and uncle. They'd also ceased to acknowledge Harry's existence. Harry didn't mind; it was better this way. Besides, Harry didn't really want anyone to talk to.
Harry sealed up the envelope with his dream letter in it and walked over to Hedwig's cage. He wondered if he were being stupid - it was just a dream, after all. But just a dream had landed him in a rather unpleasant situation, and Harry was determined never to allow that to happen again.
Harry was half way to Hedwig's perch (the cage simply wasn't necessary now) before he realized that Hedwig was still hunting. Changing direction mid way, Harry went over to the window. Pitch black. Turning back to his clock, Harry came to find out that it was one in the morning. No chance that Hedwig would be back for hours. Might as well get a bit more sleep, Harry thought.
Nothing doing. He couldn't sleep. The dream had been so vivid...Harry was convinced that it had actually happened. Why he had seen it, though, was a complete mystery.
Harry mulled things over in his head and considered the possibilities. He had only ever seen stuff like that - clairvoyance, it was called - when Voldemort was somehow involved. But Voldemort hadn't been in the dream...had he?
There was a deep presence of evil, Harry was sure. And vampires! Harry had never seen a vampire, and yet he was sure that the grossly disfigured things were vampires. Again, how he knew, he wasn't sure. Just another mystery to bring up to the Order.
Against his will, and his original assumption, Harry dosed off. When he awoke, the sun was shining through the window and Hedwig was upon her perch.
"Morning, Hedwig," Harry said, distracted.
Hedwig hooted in response. She already had the letter in her beak. Harry walked over and attached the letter to her leg.
"Deliver this to the Order's headquarters, okay?" he asked. Hedwig understood. She'd been there several times already that summer.
As he watched Hedwig fly out the window, Harry wondered what he would do that day. There wasn't much to do, and he was almost bored; almost. The Dursley's weren't even giving him chores to do anymore. He was allowed to prepare his own meals, come and go as he pleased...it was more freedom then Harry had ever enjoyed at Privet Drive.
Even thus, Harry often found himself bored. The problem was that he simply didn't know what to do with himself. He was almost completely consumed in the events of the last months.
Knowing that he would have to become a murderer to survive; watching Sirius die; it all seemed to bleed together with all of Harry's previous tortures into one big, swirling ball of misery. His seclusion from his friends seemed only to reinforce this.
Unable to think of anything better to do, Harry trudged downstairs to have breakfast. Uncle Vernon was already at the table, reading the paper.
Harry sat down, his eyes blank and unfocused. When he saw the head line of the World Monitor, however, he jumped up with such force that his chair flew back across the room.
"Give me that!" he yelled, barely remembering who he was yelling at. His focus was entirely on the paper.
"What...?" Uncle Vernon yelled, startled.
"The paper! Now!" Harry yelled again.
For a moment, Uncle Vernon looked outraged. But then, remembering Moody, he deflated.
"Uh...here..." he said, and retreated quickly, as though afraid that Harry might curse him at any moment.
Harry ignored Uncle Vernon completely. Instead, he turned to the Monitor and began to read under the line, "American Town Completely Destroyed; No Apparent Cause".
SUNNYDALE, CA, USA - Once a middle sized, suburban college town, it now appears as though Sunnydale has been completely, and inexplicably, erased from existence.
Travelers intent on stopping off in Sunnydale last night discovered that the town was little more than an enormous crater. Nothing of the town remains.
Police, today, are baffled as to what happened.
"Quite frankly, we don't have a clue," says California State Police Chief Marcus Jones. "Yesterday, Sunnydale was fine. Now it's a big hole in the ground."
No survivors of the...disappearance...of Sunnydale have yet been found.
Previously unreleased documents paint a very strange picture of Sunnydale. For starters, the High School, only recently rebuilt after its destruction four years ago, has a student mortality rate of more than forty percent. To top things off, men, women, and children disappear without a trace from Sunnydale's streets on an almost nightly basis.
Furthermore, reports of gruesome, disfigured creatures have been coming out of Sunnydale for years. In the past seven years we've heard everything from these people - vampires, demons, secret government programs, even fairy tale monsters and hell gods. Now, however, these reports of magical creatures are becoming more believable.
More information on the apparent destruction of Sunnydale in our next issue - provided that more information becomes available.
Harry was sure that the destruction of this American town had something to do with his dream. Was it possible that he had witnessed the cause of this destruction? But why?
Harry, boredom forgotten, had transferred over to frustration. He was wholly unprepared for the owl that plummeted through the open kitchen window.
"Errol!" Harry cried, and picked up the bird, brushing bits of bacon off his wings. Errol hooted, weakly. There was a letter attached to this leg.
Feeling that the Dursley's fear of him didn't stretch far enough to gloss over an owl demolishing their breakfast table, Harry grabbed Errol and went upstairs with him.
Once in his own room, Harry detached the letter. Wondering, in the midst of the events of the morning, what was going on now, Harry opened it and read:
Harry,
There has been an incident. Arthur has already gone to get you. IT IS IMPERRITIVE THAT WE GET YOU AWAY FROM THE DURSLEY'S. The entire magical world has been destabilized, temporarily. The magic protecting you at Privet Drive may not be in effect right now. Watch your back until Arthur gets there - he's had to use a broom, no Apparition due to this event. Don't worry Harry, but don't get complacent either. See you soon.
The Weasley's
Harry looked up. Magical world destabilized... he thought. This was colossal. The magic that protected him at the Dursley's was ancient...incredibly powerful. He couldn't imagine anything that was more powerful.
But, then again, that white-haired witch...she was undoubtedly the cause. She was powerful. And she'd apparently used that power to destroy an entire town.
Harry looked out the window. It was crazy to think that Voldemort would be there. After all, there was little chance that Voldemort even knew that Harry was vulnerable.
Realizing that Mr. Weasley would be arriving soon, and that he would need to be ready when Mr. Weasley arrived, Harry began to pack, fast. The noise attracted Aunt Petunia.
"What are you doing, boy?" she asked.
"Leaving," Harry replied, shortly.
"You know your not allowed..." Aunt Petunia began, but Harry interrupted her.
"I am now," he said, and thrust the letter at her.
She read it, and then, her eyes widening, bolted from the room. Harry heard her yelling that they needed to go, quickly.
Harry, himself, sped up. Somehow, Aunt Petunia's panic had worried him, too. It really shouldn't have; he should have expected it; but still, hearing it out loud was unnerving.
As he was finishing with his trunk and dragging it down the stairs, he heard the front door open.
"Harry?" it was Mr. Weasley.
"I'm here! Just getting my stuff," Harry replied from the stairs.
"Quick, Harry! I've got your trunk. Get on your Firebolt. Don't wait for me, just go! I'll catch up," he said, heaving the trunk onto Ron's Cleansweep 11 and muttering a charm for lessening the weight.
Harry didn't stop to consider. He jumped onto his Firebolt and took off, pelting for the Burrow.
As Harry ascended and pointed his broom in the direction of the Burrow, he looked back. Mr. Weasley was lifting off. Just then, 4 Privet Drive exploded.
"Mr. Weasley!" Harry yelled, for he could not see Mr. Weasley.
"I'm fine! Just go!" Mr. Weasley's voice came through the smoke, though Harry still could not see him.
The urgency in his voice made up Harry's mind - he dove straight for the house, looking to help Mr. Weasley. But instead of finding Mr. Weasley with that look, Harry found five Death Eaters...and Lord Voldemort, staring up at him with a bone chilling grin.
That's it for the first chapter...I don't know when/if I'll come out with a second one. Please r/r and let me know if you want more, what you'd have changed, what you want to see...you probably know the drill. I like flames, too, so if you feel compelled to call my work a 'pile of lice infested rabbit dung', go ahead. That's it for now...