A BtVs / Angel / Harry Potter / Sopranos / Highlander crossover. Minor spoilers up to season 7 of Buffy. Set after Season 7 BtVS, after Season 4 Angel, after Harry Potter graduates, and nowhere in particular in Sopranos / Highlander continuity.

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.


Bring Me The Head Of Harry Potter

by Marcus L. Rowland

VIII

"I have to admit this is a really good plan," Gunn said to Angel the following evening, watching Cordelia chat to David Letterman in New York, "good thing Cordy thought of it because the one you came up with sucked rocks."

"I've spotted Soprano in the audience," said Willow, "just where he's supposed to be. Must be his wife next to him."

"Proves one thing," said Angel, "he doesn't have any magical protection. If he had he never would have fallen for the compulsion spell on those tickets. So maybe walking in and grabbing him would have worked."

"It's basically the same spell that was used on me," said Harry, "he could still have magic."

"What part of 'bullet-riddled corpse' are you having trouble with?" Dawn asked Angel. "Don't you think the rest of his goons might have objected? Enough lead and even you have trouble moving. Then they chop up the body to get rid of it and whoosh, no Angel."

On screen Cordelia was saying "...my boyfriend really hates publicity, and since he owns a law firm that has the motto 'sue early and often' the papers just seem to respect his privacy."

"Come on, Cordy," said Letterman, "last week you told Jay Leno that your boyfriend was a private detective and had to keep his identity secret, when you were on the Jonathan Ross show in London three weeks ago you claimed that he owns a hotel. What's the real story?"

"I just like to tease you guys, I guess. He's kinda a private person, well to be honest he's very shy, tends to brood a lot, absolutely hates being in the public eye. I love him, but he while he respects my career choice he doesn't want to be part of the show. Except one time he tried karaoke. Boy, did he suck. Imagine the worse version of Mandy you've ever heard, then imagine it about ten times worse." There was more laughter, and Angel frowned and muttered "I wasn't that bad."

"The important thing," said Willow, "is that you believe that."

"Cordy, there are persistent rumours that the real story is that you're dating billionaire David Nabbitt. Got anything to say about that?"

"Well, it's true that David and I did date a couple of times, before my career really got off the ground, but there was no sparkage. We're still friends, but that's all. And David, if you're watching this and want to say anything different, remember that I still have the photos!" She blew a kiss to the camera, and the audience laughed.

"About a minute to go to the ads," said Gunn, "Hermione ready with her part of the deal?"

"Let's hope so," said Dawn, "She's sitting next to Soprano in the aisle seat, where she's supposed to be. How about you, Harry?"

"Ready."

"Kennedy? Willow? Fred?"

"We're all cool," said Willow. Fred waved her loaded crossbow from the upper landing above the lobby.

On screen Letterman said "Cordy has to dash across town for the charity show we mentioned earlier, so let's all give her a big hand before she goes... after the break our final guest on tonight's live show is former White House Communications Director Toby Ziegler, who's going to be communicating with us about his new book...."

"Turn the sound down," said Gunn, "it could be any time now."

In New York Cordelia walked off the set, pausing to sign a few autographs in the front row of the audience. One of the books she signed belonged to Hermione, who squealed, took the book back, then pretended to slip and dropped it into Tony Soprano's lap. Without thinking he touched the Hogwarts crest embossed on the cover and instantly vanished. Before anyone really had time to notice Hermione stood, pulled her wand from her sleeve, and said "Obliviate!"

In moments nobody else in the theatre remembered that the seat had ever been occupied. Hermione sat in the empty seat and gave Carmella Soprano some individual attention before the spell wore off. Soon she remembered that she and Tony had argued in the car and he'd left her outside the theatre, she expected that he would come home sooner or later, probably drunk. Hermione had been sitting next to her all evening. One of Cordelia's assistants took Hermione's place in the empty aisle seat.

Hermione relaxed and settled back to watch the rest of the show. Later she'd catch up with Cordy at the airport and travel back to Los Angeles on the studio's Learjet. It wasn't quite as convenient as a portkey, but she didn't fancy trying to apport that distance, and the plane was far more comfortable than any airline she'd tried.

* * * * *

Tony Soprano appeared in the lobby of the Hyperion, crouched in a sitting position, and Harry instantly waved his wand and said "Petrificus Totalus!". Tony slowly toppled onto his back, rigid, his jaws locked, paralysed except for his furiously twitching eyes. Willow stepped forward and said Acclaro!. A shimmering green aura appeared around Tony, glowing red over one of his jacket pockets.

"Okay," said Willow, "there's something magical there, apart from that he seems to be clean. No weapons." She concentrated for a second, and a bunch of keys fell out of the pocket and floated up to eye level. Harry snagged them on the end of his wand and said "That's a Gringrotts Bank vault key. What the hell is a muggle doing with one of those?"

Willow squinted at the bunch. "What's the little key fob thing? It looks like it opens, and it's the main source of the magic. There's a spell on the key too, but it's so subtle I wouldn't have picked it up on its own."

"That's a portkey to the bank's reception area. They started giving them to valued customers a couple of years ago, when someone worked out how avoid accidents if two people tried to port in at the same time."

"You don't have one."

"I got my vault key a long while before they started giving the portkeys out and I've never bothered to collect one, they're more trouble than they're worth. Bloke I knew touched his accidentally while he was looking for... umm... something else, trouble was that he wasn't actually wearing his trousers at the time, by the time he sorted things out at Gringrotts and got back his girlfriend wasn't... well, never mind."

"Kennedy," said Angel, "could you lean Mister Soprano against a seat for me? I think I put my back out when I was burying that other Italian fellow."

"Sure." Kennedy picked Tony up by a rigid arm and leg, without apparent effort, and propped him against one of the seats in the middle of the lobby.

"Okay. Feeling all right, Mister Soprano?" Tony's eyes moved from side to side, but he couldn't speak. "Oh, sorry about that. I'd ask Harry to let you loose but you tried to have him killed and he's a little sensitive about that, he might just turn you into a frog by mistake. You do know Harry, of course? Harry Potter? I thought so."

Willow said "You may be thinking that your wife is raising the alarm. Slayer, could you turn him so that he can see the TV screen? Dawn, if you could wind the tape back to the last audience shot and pause it... there we are. Now if you look at the screen, you'll see that the young lady who gave you that book has moved into your seat, and another young lady has taken hers. Now the odd thing is that your wife and everyone else in the audience thinks that they were sat there all along. Someone who watched the show on TV might know better, but neither of them is going to be hanging around to answer questions. That's called magic, Mister Soprano, and I can assure you that we know a lot more about it than you do."

"Now your man tried to have Harry killed last night," said Angel, "and that's annoying. What's more annoying is that a friend of ours was shot. Fortunately," he moved to where Tony could see him and morphed into vampire form, "that's not a huge problem for some of us, which is why you're not already dead. Now if you understand me so far I'd like you to blink twice."

Tony blinked. Twice.

"My name's Angel, by the way, you may have heard of me. No? Your loss. Now in a moment I'm going to ask Harry to release you. When he does that I'd suggest that you sit down and answer our questions, without lies or hesitation. Because if you don't I might start feeling a little... peckish, or my friends with the wands and the spells and the cattle prods..." he pointed at Gunn "...might decide to get busy. Kennedy, lean him back against the seat... Okay Harry, go ahead."

"Finite Incantatum!"

"Wha't'fk didja do to me?"

"That's no language to use in front of ladies," said Angel warningly, showing his fangs again.

"T'hell with you and t'hell with your..!"

Kennedy casually slapped him before he finished. His head thudded back into the upholstery, hard. "We've most of us seen hell," said Kennedy, "some of us have spent vacation time there, and there's no way anything you say is going to impress us, unless it's giving us answers. Understood?"

"Don't break his jaw or give him concussion," said Angel, "we need him awake and talking."

"Ah, you're no fun." She gently patted Soprano's other cheek.

"Let me make this easy for you," said Angel. "We don't want to know about your family's business, unless it concerns Harry, and we aren't cops or feds. When we finish we'll be letting you go, if you help us, and nothing you say here will be admissible as evidence. If you don't help us... well, it's a big cellar, plenty of room next to your friend Furio."

"Huh. You tell me that, tell me who you are, then say you'll let me go, think I'm a f'kin moron?"

"You won't remember us. Magic, remember?"

"You promise me this is just about the Potter kid, nothing else?"

"Nothing else."

"Wha'd'ya wanna know?"

"Who's behind this?" asked Angel. "Who paid for the hit on Harry? And how do we stop it?"

* * * * *

"Let's see if I've got this straight," said Angel. "You were contacted by Gringrotts bank who offered to exchange your money for untraceable gold. You agreed to this, and once you'd arranged the money transfer they asked you to arrange the hit on Harry. This was all arranged by someone called Weasley."

"That's right," said Tony. "Charlie Weasley."

"That's impossible..." Harry began, Angel made a throat-cutting gesture and said "Can it. We'll get to that soon enough." He turned back to Tony and said "What was Wolfram and Hart's part in all this?"

"They passed on all the details I needed to arrange the hit; where he'd be, what he looked like, that sort of thing."

"But they were working for the bank, not you?"

"That's right."

"Okay. Now, Harry, what's wrong with the story."

"None of it makes any sense. To begin with, Charlie Weasley never worked for Gringrotts bank. His brother Bill does, but Charlie works with dragons in Romania. Or did, anyway."

"Did?" asked Angel.

"That's what's so wrong. Charlie's been dead for nearly a year. He was one of the ones killed in the final fight against Voldemort."

TBC