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. This sections contains spoilers for Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix.

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

XI

"Hello Harry," said Percy. "Going to introduce me to these muggles."

"Not all exactly muggles here," said Willow, "and there are those of us who think that word is a little racist."

Percy took another look at the group and belatedly recognised Willow. "Professor Rosenberg, this is an unexpected honour, but..."

"But nothing," snapped Willow. "Everyone here has some involvement in magic and the supernatural. Do you really want me to spell out how badly you're mistaken?"

"I know that some muggles do dabble..."

"Percy," said Harry, "shut up." He turned to the others and said "This is Percy Weasley, one of Charlie's brothers. He works for the Ministry of Magic's Intelligence Branch, and he's really not nearly as stupid as he pretends. He spent the last couple of years of the war pretending to be one of Voldemort's dupes, and he did it so well that most of our community hated him until the truth came out."

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!"

"Oh, did I spoil your little game? What a pity."

"Something tells me you two don't get on very well," said Angel.

"Who is this f'kr?" muttered Tony.

Harry said "Percy's way of pretending to be a fool was to spend nearly a year claiming that I was a liar and that Voldemort wasn't alive, which rather annoyed me, then a couple more pretending to be a social climber, boot-licking the Malfoys and others like them. His family practically disowned him, and Charlie died believing he was in Voldemort's camp. And I like the rest of the Weasley family a lot better than I like Percy, so anything that hurts them upsets me."

"All right," said Percy. "Maybe I could have found another way. It's over now."

"So why are you still playing the fool?"

"It's often the best way to find out what's really going on. Now, would you please introduce me, I really would like to know who I'm talking to before I start screaming at you."

"Okay. Professor Rosenberg you know, Kennedy is a Slayer, and Miss Summers is the Watchers Council representative at UCLA and the Professor's student. Mister Angel here is a detective specialising in supernatural cases, and is currently working for me. Mister Gunn here works for Mister Angel. Finally, we have mister Soprano, who was duped by the imposter and his associate mister Dante. I believe they're both in the waste disposal business."

Percy pulled out a tiny scroll, tapped it with a quill, and waited a second as it whizzed from one roller to another and stopped, hanging in mid-air. "When you say Angel, would that be Angelus?"

"Formerly," said Angel. "Angelus was a soulless blood-sucking fiend that'd rip your heart out in a second. I'd have to think about it a little first."

"I don't believe there are currently any warrants for your arrest in this country, but I'd advise staying out of the Republic of Ireland, France and Italy, the wizarding communities there have long memories. And they have reciprocal extradition treaties with Britain."

"I'll bear it in mind."

The rollers whizzed again "As for mister Soprano and mister Dante, the Department of Magic in America will probably be interested to learn that American organised crime is venturing into our world."

"They didn't venture," said Willow, "They're.. They're witnesses. We had to bring them in to get to the bottom of this."

"That's f'kin right," said Tony, "I'm a f'kin victim here."

"What a shame," said Percy, with a total lack of conviction. "Harry, are you prepared to accept responsibility for these people?"

"I'll consider it, if you'll tell me what the hell's going on."

"Death Eaters, of course. With Voldemort and so many others out of the picture the remaining sympathisers are running scared and are very short of funds. Defrauding muggles seems to be one of the easiest ways they've found to replenish their coffers, so much so that the Ministry now tracks all muggle to magical currency exchange transactions over a thousand Galleons. And of course it's a bonus if they can find a way to discredit someone like Charlie or harm someone like you while they're doing it."

"It's kinda elaborate, isn't it?" said Dawn.

"Wizards sometimes over-complicate things, and the Death Eaters aren't exactly rational at the best of times, it's one of the reasons we beat them. I'll give you an example. A few years ago they managed to plant one of their agents as a teacher in Harry's school, with endless chances to harm him. Their goal was simply to get Harry out of the school and portkey him into Voldemort's clutches, so that they could use his blood in a ritual. The scheme they came up with took most of a year to come to fruition, and relied on first rigging the entries to the toughest sporting contest in the wizarding world, which Harry was incidentally too young to enter under the normal rules, then on Harry winning the contest and being the first to touch a disguised portkey. It was sheer bloody madness, I could have done the same thing in a few days if I was a teacher that Harry trusted. Or even one he would obey for five minutes."

"How?" asked Harry.

"You go to Hogsmeade. That takes you out of the protection of the spells that stop apportation in and out of the Hogwarts grounds. You see a teacher struggling with too many parcels. He says 'Hold this a minute, Potter,' and when you touch the parcel he gives you the portkey activates and takes you to their base. They keep you prisoner, paralysed and unconscious and wandless, until they're ready to use you for their ritual. Any questions?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Good. Now, are you prepared to take responsibility?"

"If I must."

"I'm pleased to hear it. Now be a good chap and push off, this is Ministry business, and take your friends with you."

"What?"

"This is now an official Ministry of Magic investigation, and I think I'm the only one here that works for the Ministry."

"What about my f'kin money?" asked Tony.

"If we recover it you'll get it back," Percy said in a tone that made it clear that he thought it was unlikely.

"Wait a minute," said Dawn, "What about the mutual aid agreement between the Watchers Council and the Ministry of Magic?"

"What about it?" said Percy, tapping his scroll again, and peering at the result. "Hmm... applies to situations in which either group is in hot pursuit and requests aid. I hardly think a fraud that's several months old qualifies."

"And that's it?" said Angel. "You don't plan to keep us informed, or let us participate in the investigation?"

"Sorry..."

"Okay then, I think we'd better go talk to my lawyers."

"Your lawyers?"

"Wolfram and Hart. I usually do business with their LA subsidiary, I'd imagine they'll be happy to represent us here."

"Good idea," said Percy.

"But.." began Harry.

"Let's talk about this outside," said Angel. "Come on, everyone, let's let the guy do his job." He went to the door, and the others gradually followed him, leaving Percy in the office.

"Okay," said Angel, gesturing for the others to join him. "Let's just talk for a second. Willow, a little privacy please."

"Sure. Sileo" There was a sudden deadness to the air, and a total lack of sound until Willow spoke. "That ought to block out any eavesdropping, magical or otherwise."

"Are you really just going to let that prick tell us what to do?" asked Kennedy.

"I want to get out of here before we don't have an alternative. Okay, Harry, we need somewhere to meet up in about forty-five minutes. Suggestions?"

"Flourish and Blott's bookstore. It's big, it's open until late, and this time of the year it shouldn't be too busy."

"Perfect. Where is it from here?"

"Third shop on the left as you go out of the bank, this side of Diagon Alley."

"Okay, Willow, Kennedy, you take mister Soprano and mister Fiore for a walk, try to get back to the book store in about forty-five minutes, if possible without being followed. Harry, you take Dawn and go shopping, again try to shake off any followers but be there in forty-five. Gunn and I'll go talk to Wolfram and Hart, we'll meet you there. Any questions?"

"Is this gonna get my f'kin money back?" asked Tony.

"No idea, but do you want the magic cops on our backs while we try to find it?"

"'Kay. I'll go along wit' you."

"Pleased to hear it. Willow, you're in charge of them, if they give you any trouble I'm sure you and Kennedy can handle it. You guys really don't want to see what Willow or Kennedy are like when they're mad, understand?" They both nodded.

"Dawn, look out for Harry, I think his death's a lot more important than Weasley claims, maybe the main aim of the plot. And Harry, don't let Dawn get killed unnecessarily, understood?" They nodded too.

"Okay, let's roll." Willow broke the spell, and the groups separated.

* * * * *

"Hi. My name's Angel, this is Charles Gunn. We need an immediate appointment."

"I'm sorry, mister Angel, at this time of night..." said the receptionist.

"Look in your files under 'people Wolfram and Hart really really don't want to piss off unnecessarily', and do it now."

"Just a moment..." she pulled out a scroll, similar to Percy's, tapped it, then said "I'm so sorry, Mister Angel, why didn't you say you own one of our affiliates? Someone will be out for you in a second."

They waited, while Gunn counted slowly. He'd reached nine when a wizard in her thirties wearing tailored figure-hugging black robes apparated into the room and said "Mister Angel? I'm Titania Ambrosius, a junior partner here. Can I help you."

"Good thing I'm a married man," muttered Gunn, casting an appreciative eye over her figure, and said more loudly "You related to a Lilah Morgan?"

"Distant cousins, I think."

"Figures."

Angel said "This place shielded against eavesdroppers and spying?"

"Naturally."

"Good. We need a travel pack. Portkey, preferably difficult to trace. Another to get back to our offices in Los Angeles. Accommodation for eight people, needs to be lightproof and portable. Maps and currency. Food for several days, including blood. And some sort of fast all-terrain transport anyone can use, not just wizards. And we need it in the next thirty minutes or so. Oh, and a way to get out of this building without being followed."

"Where do you need to go to?"

"Romania. Dracula's castle, or somewhere as close as possible to it."

"Hmmm... tricky."

"But I'm willing to bet you can do it."

"For a fee."

"Take Amex?"

* * * * *

"What do you think Angel is up to?" asked Harry.

"Nothing I want to talk about here," said Dawn, "we've got two guys and a cat following us, and I'm willing to bet the cat's a wizard or someone's familiar. Why don't we just go get ourselves a coffee or something and do a bit of shopping, get back to the bank in an hour or so like Angel said."

"Err.. okay, yeah, that sounds good," said Harry, realising that Dawn thought someone was eavesdropping on their conversation. "I think the ice cream parlour sells coffee."

"I know what we must get. At the conference I noticed a sweet stall selling blood-flavoured stickers for vampires, I was gonna pick some up for Angel but I forgot. If there's a shop around here let's get some now."

"Stickers?"

"Lollipops."

"Right, I'm with you. Yuck, what a horrible idea. There's a sweet counter in the ice-cream parlour, we might get lucky there... Here we are. I'll get the coffee. Small cappucino for me, and you?"

"Medium mocha, I think, with caramel and whipped cream."

Two mugs appeared on the table, and they picked them up appreciatively. "That's one good thing about magic," said Dawn, "you get really quick service." she took a sip and grimaced a little. "Shame that this is the British idea of coffee, not American."

"Seems okay to me."

"You don't know good coffee. The sooner Starbucks gets a concession here the better."

Harry looked around nervously, but nobody seemed to have recognised him. The contact lenses really did help immensely.

"No chance, unless they've got wizarding connections. There's one in Charing Cross road if you want to go outside Diagon Alley, can't be more than a hundred yards."

"I don't have any ordinary British money on me, it'll have to wait for another trip. Besides, this isn't that bad, it's just I'm in a grumpy mood."

"Umm... are you still upset about last night?"

"Last night?"

"I sort of made a pass at you after you'd made your call, don't know if you really noticed."

"Okay. Yes, I noticed, and it didn't upset me, but I had some bad news and I just wasn't in the mood for anything like that. Anyway, I told you that it wasn't going to be any sort of long-term relationship, and the reasons are just as good now as they were the night we met. Better, if anything."

"Why?"

"Because of the news I got."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No. We can't discuss it here anyway," said Dawn, glancing at the old-fashioned clockwork watch Angel had given her before they left, knowing that digital watches wouldn't work in the wizarding area, and said "Let's see about the stickers then get some shopping."

* * * * *

Two goblins walked out of the staff entrance at Gringrott's bank and set off down Diagon Alley towards Flourish and Blotts, carrying heavy leather satchels. "I feel like an idiot," muttered one.

"Shut up and think goblin, Gunn," murmured the other. "We've got about five minutes before this spell wears off, we need to be in the book store and out of sight of the windows and the other customers first."

"Sure. Here it is."

"Wait for someone to talk to the clerk, I get the impression goblins aren't their typical customers... okay, here we go, that's Harry and Dawn at the counter."

Angel pushed the door open and they went in, sidling to a dark corner obscured by shelving. They heard Dawn say "..no, I want the Etruscan version. Don't you guys have anything in its original language?"

Angel and Gunn suddenly snapped back to their original form and size. Gunn bumped his head on a shelf as he grew.

"We may have it in the antiquarian department," said the clerk, "but that's madame Blott's speciality and she's gone home for the evening. If you could come back tomorrow?"

"I guess. We might as well look round while we're here, see if we can find anything else for the council library."

The door opened again and looking over a low bookcase Angel saw Willow and Kennedy enter. There was no sign of Tony or Furio, but Willow was carrying a glass jar containing two annoyed-looking newts and Angel guessed that the gangsters had been giving her a hard time. Angel thought he could see several people lurking outside, assumed they'd been following the others, and wondered how long it would take someone to come inside. He reached into one of the satchels and pulled out an object that looked like an old-fashioned pocket watch. "Link hands, wait for the chime!"

The three groups quickly joined, and the watch chimed loudly. Angel flipped open the case and touched a gem inside. For a second they seemed to feel the whirling effect of a portkey, but it ended without them travelling. "Willow," said Angel, "this is supposed to be a portkey out of here, something's gone wrong. Any ideas?"

"Anti-shoplifting spell," said Harry, "won't let anyone apport or portkey out. We'll have to go outside."

"We can't," said Angel, "There's company waiting for us."

"Let me try," said Dawn, flicking out her sword and making a small cut in her hand. "If the spell's already running this might work." She slapped her bleeding hand onto the portkey as the shop door slammed open. There was a blinding flash and they vanished from the shop, leaving a seething whirlpool of white fire, a few inches across, which sent out a few miniature lightning bolts then vanished.

* * * * *

"Where the hell are we?" asked Harry, looking around at a dark forest, dimly lit by a quarter moon, "And how in Merlin's name did you activate the portkey?"

Dawn watched pale sparks dance across her hand as the wound vanished, but didn't answer.

"We're in Romania," said Angel, looking at a map. "About thirty miles from Dracula's castle. What's the time?"

"Nine forty-five."

"Change that to eleven-forty-five, we've moved through a couple of time zones. Gunn, unpack the weapons then transport, this area's dangerous and we need to find somewhere safe to camp before morning. We've got some tents including a couple that are rated safe for vampires by daylight, unless anyone has a better suggestion we'll travel by night and camp by daylight, keep the lowest possible profile. Willow, why did you turn the gangsters into newts?"

"They were bugging me. Don't worry, they'll get better. And they won't remember a thing about it."

"Better cancel it now, we may need them to fight."

"Rats." She tipped them out on the ground, stepped back a few feet, and said "Finite Incantatum."

"What t'fuk?"

"We had to disguise you," said Willow, "transport you here without anyone noticing. Are you guys okay?"

"Where are we?" asked Furio.

"Romania."

"Why f'kin Romania?" asked Tony.

"Because Weasley was lying to us," said Angel. "I could smell his sweat, hear his heartbeat. Whatever happened here is what this is all about. The money's part of it, so's killing Harry, but the heart of it is here."

"What happened back there?" Harry asked again as Gunn was unpacking, taking care that the gangsters couldn't overhear.

"You've seen the power in my blood," lied Dawn, feeling a little guilty, "kinda electric. Sometimes it makes spells work better." She hoped that the tiny portal her blood had made with the transport magic of the spell would have closed by itself; she thought so, by now she'd probably be feeling something if the world was about to end.

"I suppose it worked. What gave you the idea?"

"It's something I've seen a couple of times before. Not something we want to rely on, sometimes it just doesn't work."

Gunn handed out crossbows and made sure the gangsters and Harry knew how to use them, then opened another box and put it on the ground. Inside were ten white mice; as he watched they grew, first to the size of rats, then dogs, then ponies, then horses. Eight had bits and saddles, and seemed to be waiting patiently for their riders, the others had pack saddles. "Cute," said Willow.

"Okay," said Angel, "let's stow the supplies and saddle up."

"Where are we going?" asked Harry. "Castle Dracula?"

"No, although I hope that Wolfram and Hart think that's where we're going. Percy was telling the truth when he said that the raid never got that far. We're heading for the dragon reservation, see what we can find out what really happened. It's about a hundred miles so let's start making tracks."

TBC