All characters belong to their respective creators / film companies / etc. and are used without permission. This story may only be distributed on a non-profit-making basis.
Work in Progress. If you like this story, check out my other stories on the Fanfiction Net, Twisting the Hellmouth, and Fonts of Wisdom websites.
I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.
"So what do we know about her?" Hermione asked Cho as they freshened up after the quiz.
"She's Dawn Summers, she's muggle-born and only recently learning magic, and Professor Rosenberg is teaching her. And I'm pretty sure she's had Harry."
"I'm certain of it - he's got that 'Oh Merlin what have I got myself into' look again, and he looks like he didn't get much sleep. I was more interested in the sword she's carrying."
"Sword? What sword?"
"Didn't you see it? No, you were chatting to those boys. Draco was being his usual charming self, I think he was going to hex her and she pulled a sword on him. He practically ran away screaming."
"Blast," said Cho, "I would have paid good money to see that. Who on earth carries swords around?"
"Damned if I... wait a minute, I'm an idiot. Her name is Summers, and she knows Professor Rosenberg and carries a sword. She's much too young to be the Slayer, but wasn't there something about the Slayer having a sister?"
"I think so. Don't have the last few years of the Prophet handy to check, though."
"Sarcasm will get you nowhere. Look, if it is her she was in Sunnydale when they closed the Hellmouth, she must have seen the whole thing. The biggest magical event since Tunguska. Maybe she even saw Professor Rosenberg cast the spell."
"She's a little young, isn't she, can't be much older than us."
"Which would make her thirteen or so when the Hellmouth was closed," said Hermione.
"Seventeen actually," said Dawn, who had come in unnoticed, "I'm older than I look. And no, I didn't see Willow cast the spell, I was fighting vampires in another part of the building."
"You're a Slayer?" asked Cho.
"Nope, just trained with my sister and the Potentials."
"That must have been weird," said Hermione, "being the only girl around that wasn't... I'm sorry, that was tactless."
"Don't worry, not being a Slayer doesn't worry me. I've got my own talents, and I'm just as glad not to be in a profession where the average age of death used to be eighteen."
"It's just difficult to imagine. I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry."
"Don't worry, you'll know if I'm upset."
"Are you really carrying a sword?" asked Cho.
"Might be. Why?"
"I was just wishing I'd seen you use it on Draco."
"Well yeah, that was fun. Could I ask a favour?"
"What sort of favour?" asked Hermione.
"I want to pick up some presents for a couple of friends, I thought you might be able to help me choose something interesting. I want something for a baby about six months old, and something for Cordelia - she's a woman the same age as Professor Rosenberg who has very good taste. What I'm looking for is presents that have some magic about them but can be used safely by anyone. I was thinking a toy of some sort for the baby, jewellery or clothing for Cordelia."
"Okay, if you'll tell us why you're carrying a sword."
"Force of habit. It's like a security blanket, just don't feel right without it. Or an axe or something heavier..."
"And I thought Fred and George were weird..."
Furio woke slowly, wondering why the bed was so uncomfortable, then realised that he was lying on a concrete floor. He was in a cage of massive steel bars in a corner of a larger room somewhere. There was a dim lighbulb overhead, outside its pool of light endless shadow. He checked his pockets; no gun, no wallet, no phone.
"Looking for this?" asked a voice from the shadows in perfect Italian.
Angel came forward, out of the gloom, dangling Furio's rosary from one hand.
"You some sort of crazy?" asked Furio.
"I don't think so." He put his other hand under the crucifix and lowered it onto his palm. Wisps of smoke began to rise, and Furio could smell burning flesh. "But the longer I do this, the crazier I get. You might want to interrupt me before I really lose it." As Furio stared his face slowly twisted to the nightmare mask Furio had briefly seen in the parking garage, and he began to growl.
"Stop!" said Furio after a minute or so. "I'll talk."
"Better make it good," said Angel, pulling the cross from his hand to reveal a cross-shaped burn and slowly morphing his face back to human, "because pain makes me hungry. If I don't like what you're telling me I'll have to do something to take the edge off my appetite."
"I was told something today," Dawn said as Gunn drove everyone back to the Hyperion later that afternoon. "I'm not sure if it was the truth, or if he was trying to manipulate me."
"Who? Harry?"
"Of course not. Someone Harry and I met this afternoon."
"Do you want to unvague this for us at all?" asked Kennedy.
"Okay.. Briefly, I met a guy who claimed to be an immortal wizard. Don't glare, Harry, I'm not gonna name him unless I have to. What he told me is that wizards can steal the quickening if an immortal is killed, use it to buy themselves a few years."
"It sounds plausible," said Willow. "Can't say I've heard of it, but I can see it could happen."
"What he told me was that he was wearing an amulet to stop other wizards detecting his immortality. The problem is that I could sense him and he could sense me, I would have thought an amulet would have blocked that too. If he was lying most of the scenarios I can think of end with him murdering me to steal my quickening, for himself or for someone else. I don't know that I can tell difference between a true immortal and someone wandering around with stolen power, or which he is."
"I think he was telling the truth," said Harry, "He's in a business where you really do have to be trustworthy. He could cause endless mischief if he wanted to, and I've never heard a thing against him."
"It could be genuine," said Willow, "it might be that your ability works in a different way to magical detection. I'll have to give it some thought, run a few tests."
"I think it is genuine," said Dawn, "I didn't get any wrong vibrations from him, but I'd just like to be sure. If it is genuine it sounds like I need an amulet like that for myself."
"That I can probably do.
"This is the place," Hermione thought to herself that evening, staring across the road at a gated entrance and watching a dot of light in the crystal she carried. "Looks like a hotel. Not many lights."
Hermione hadn't really wanted to be suspicious, but there was something about the situation she didn't like. Harry was hiding something, she was sure of that. Dawn and he both seemed to be watching out for something, and there was another woman watching them from a distance. She was certain Harry was in trouble again, and trying to keep her out. That's why she'd put a tracer spell on his owl. She crossed the road, slipped into the grounds through a half-open gate, and hid in a dark corner while she rummaged through her backpack and found the invisibility cloak she'd bought with part of her share of the reward for Voldemort.
As she finished putting it on and was checking that she was completely concealed the gate swung open and a tall figure walked in, dressed in a spotless cream-coloured suit. She held their breath until he had gone inside. "That," she thought, "was a demon." The horns and green skin give it away. "What in Merlin's name has Harry got himself into?" Whatever it was, it called itself 'Angel Investigations', according to a brass plate fixed to a much older sign reading 'Hyperion Hotel.'
Hermione was wondering how she'd get in without attracting attention when a car drew up outside. She froze to one side of the entrance, and watched as a beautiful blonde in her late twenties or early thirties walked down the path, followed by a chauffeur carrying two matching suitcases. The blonde was saying "..unless my plans have to change I'll need the car again for six tomorrow evening, for the airport. Take the morning off, if you don't hear from me by four assume that I'm going ahead as planned." Hermione was sure she recognised her from programmes she'd watched on TV. Some sort of American sitcom her mother liked, The something Show... The Cordy Show, that was it. Must be the Cordelia that Dawn had mentioned. The woman opened the door, holding it wide for the chauffeur, and Hermione slipped in after him. Inside it looked much like the lobby of any hotel, overlooked from the floor above, with huge electric chandeliers. The chauffeur took the bags to a lift and left them, then went out again, saying "good night" as he left. He seemed to be completely indifferent to the sight of the demon, who was scratching the head of Harry's owl, perched on the banisters of a huge flight of stairs.
"Hi Lorne. New pet?" said the woman.
"Name's Hedwig, sugar. Belongs to Dawn's new boyfriend, I think. They're upstairs somewhere."
"New boyfriend?" asked Cordelia, with great interest, "What's he like?"
"Eighteen, British, a wizard, and someone's trying to kill him."
"So of course Dawn's decided to date him. That girl is so like her sister..."
"Hey, honey, he's younger than her, not a couple of centuries older, and she saved his life last night, I guess she feels entitled to a cuddle or ten. You might know his name, Harry Potter, I'm pretty sure I mentioned him."
"Oh, the one that guy Vole-something was trying to kill."
"That's the one, sweetcheeks. Except that this time they're using machine guns, not magic. Hey, did you just hear something?"
Hermione tried to keep extra quiet, knowing that Lorne must have heard her gasp of surprise.
"Don't think so. Where is everyone anyway?"
"Angel's downstairs talking to a hit-man, Willow's making coffee, not sure about anyone else."
Professor Rosenberg came out of a side room, carrying a tray of cups and a large insulated coffee pot, and smiled at Cordelia, who waited for her to put the tray down on the receptionist's desk then went over and gave her a quick hug. "Willow, you look younger every time I see you." Hermione began to feel that she'd been foolish to come here, Dawn was obviously who she said she was. But why was a demon there?
"I wish. I've spent most of the last month training some of the Watchers, I feel about a hundred years old. They're all so young and keen..."
"Ouch. Reminds me, I'm spending a few days there next month helping out with the fencing class, I need to make some time to practice with Angel first. So what's the Potter kid like?"
Lorne stopped petting Hedwig and went to get a cup of coffee. Hedwig stayed on the banister, looking a little bored.
"He's okay," said Willow, "people have been trying to kill him since he was eleven, he seems to have come out of it pretty well. He's a celebrity in the wizard's community and doesn't seem to be too spoiled by it."
"So what happens now?" asked Cordelia, taking coffee.
"Angel and Gunn found out who arranged the hit, some sort of Mafia guy from New Jersey. There's got to be some sort of client or boss behind it, I suppose, Angel is trying to find out who it is."
"Where is Gunn anyway? And Fred?"
"They're upstairs bathing the baby and having some family time."
"And Kennedy?"
"She's downstairs with a Taser, keeping an eye on things. Making sure Angel doesn't get too enthusiastic."
"Always a good plan. Heard anything from Buffy?"
"Got an e-mail this evening, wants a lot of information about duck billed platypuses."
"Platypuses?"
"Playtpi, platypodes, whatever."
"No, I meant why platypuses?"
"Just part of the general weirdness in Australia, I think. Or she's trying to freak me out with a gratuitous Dogma reference. Just a second." She looked around, apparently trying to think of something, then said "Thicken!" Suddenly Hermione found herself trapped in something that felt like thick tar. Willow said "Slowly drop your wand and take off the cloak. Don't try to move fast, it won't work. Better get on with it, the air you're breathing isn't circulating, if you leave it too long you'll pass out."
"Company?" asked Cordelia.
"Invisible wizard, I think."
"Crap. Just a sec." Cordelia went to a nearby cabinet and opened it to reveal neatly arranged weapons, taking out a crossbow and cocking and loading it with the air of someone who knows exactly what she's doing.
"Over there, in front of the water cooler."
"Knew I'd heard something," said Lorne.
"Don't shoot!" said Hermione, and did as she'd been told. Suddenly Hermione could breathe again, although the rest of her body was still entangled.
"She's just a kid," said Cordelia.
"She's about the age we were when we were blowing up the high school," said Willow, "so I don't necessarily find that reassuring. Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Um.. Hermione Grainger, Professor. I just wanted to make sure that Harry was safe."
"I know that name," said Lorne, "weren't you one of the ones that helped Harry get rid of Voldemort, sweetness?"
"That's right."
"Thought so."
Willow said "Now we're none of us trusting people here, so we're going to have to ask you to prove that you're telling the truth before I let you go."
"How do I do that?" asked Hermione.
"Sing something," said Cordelia. "Anything will do."
"Sing?"
"Just do it."
"Err... Ten green bottles, hanging on the wall, ten green bottles, hanging on the wall, and if one green bottle should accidentally fall there'll be nine green bottles, hanging on the wall. Nine green bottles.."
"That's enough, sugar," said Lorne, "don't give up the day job. She's telling the truth."
"Sure?" asked Willow. Lorne nodded. "Okay, Release!"
The air returned to normal. Hermione felt around on the floor and found her cloak, put it in her backpack, then put the wand away in her sleeve. Cordelia relaxed, uncocked and unloaded the crossbow, and put it away. Hedwig flapped over to perch on Hermione's shoulder for a scratch.
"Coffee?" asked Willow, pouring a cup.
"Um. Yes please. Look, I'm sorry, Professor, I was sure Harry had got himself in trouble again, and the idiot wouldn't let me help."
"Honey," said the demon gently, "you know that Harry isn't a big part of your destiny, don't you? You'll always be good friends, but not much more."
"It's his power," said Cordelia, "he can see your destiny if he hears you sing."
Hermione took the coffee and sipped. It was a little stronger than she liked but good. "I suppose I've known for a while. But he's still my friend, so I want to make sure that he's okay. Err... do you know who I will end up with?"
"Hard to tell," said Lorne, "I don't see any names but I do see a lot of cute red-headed kids. Does that help?"
"It's probably Ron."
"Or some other red-head. Maybe one of Willow's relatives, or a total stranger. Maybe you end up baby-sitting for the red-headed league. All I know is that I see you with a bunch of red-headed kids."
"What about Harry, do he and Dawn..?"
"So far I haven't heard Harry sing, and as for Dawn... well, let's just say she has a knack of upsetting prophecies, like her sister. Anyway, this isn't getting much work done, I only dropped by to make sure that things are okay and it looks like they are. You stay here, honey, if you ask nice I'm sure that Willow will explain things. Toodles."
"What is he?" asked Hermione once she was sure Lorne was gone, "He looks like a demon but he seemed... well, nice, really."
"He is." said Cordelia, "He's from one of the demon dimensions, moved to Earth because he didn't like violence and they didn't have music in his home world. Runs a karaoke bar called Caritas, a safe haven with some really powerful anti-violence spells. The only place you can take a drink with a demon and be sure you're not on the menu."
"I think I saw it advertised in the programme for the conference."
Harry came downstairs, showered and looking a little fresher, and said "Hermione? What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
"I wanted to make sure you're okay. You and Dawn were making such a big mystery of everything that I got suspicious. Harry, what the hell is going on? I heard enough to know that someone is trying to kill you again."
"That's about it, really. Someone tried to kill me last night, Dawn saved me. She's a student at UCLA but works for Angel in her spare time, they're private detectives specialising in supernatural cases. They're helping me sort it out."
"Death Eaters again?"
"Doesn't look like it, whoever it is tried to have me shot. Death Eaters wouldn't use a muggle hit-man. Anyway, Angel found out who gave the order, and he's questioning him downstairs."
Dawn came downstairs, wearing casual clothes without the technopagan regalia, talking to Fred and Gunn, who was carrying Alonna. She saw Hermione and said "I had a feeling you weren't satisfied with what Harry told you. Decided to play snoop?"
"Sorry," said Hermione. Hedwig gently nibbled her ear then flew over to Harry, who pulled a packet of owl treats from his pocket and started to toss them into the air for Hedwig to catch.
"Don't be," said Dawn. "I spent most of my teens Scoobying, it's sometimes the only way to be sure that things are okay."
"Scoobying?"
"As in Scooby-Doo," said Willow, "the Scooby Gang. There were a bunch of us in Sunnydale, used to help out the Slayer when it was just Buffy. Cordy was part of it too. May not mean much if you're from a wizarding family, I know they mostly don't have TV."
"Oh, my parents aren't wizards, I see it during the holidays. Reminds me to say that they really like Cordelia's show."
Cordelia smiled, revealing perfect teeth, and said "I'll give you some PR stuff if you like, photos and T-shirts and baseball caps with our logo. Tell me the sizes, I'll get it organised."
"That'd be great. Thanks."
"Angel surfaced yet?" asked Gunn.
"Nope," said Willow, "still talking to mobster guy."
"If it's taking this long he's covering for someone pretty important, way up in the mob. Not sure how long I'd hold out if Angel was questioning me."
"Kennedy's with them, so I guess Angel is being restrained."
"Not especially," said Angel, coming in from the cellar, followed by Kennedy, "he told me everything he knows an hour ago, I've just been making sure that he wasn't holding anything back." He saw Hermione and said "Hi, I'm Angel, this is Kennedy. I'd offer to shake hands but it's a little grimy downstairs."
"I'm Hermione," she said a little uncertainly. "Harry's friend."
"Relax," said Willow, "Lorne checked her out, she isn't involved."
"So what's the story?" asked Gunn.
"Our friend Furio works for the Soprano family in New Jersey," said Angel. "He was given his instructions by Tony Soprano, he's apparently the real boss although there's nominally someone else in charge."
Gunn whistled. "Tony Soprano has to be one of the top ten or twenty mobsters in America. Getting to him won't be easy."
"Relax," said Angel. "I've got a plan."
"And those always work out so well..."
TBC
