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

XII

"Why didn't we leave all this stuff in the Mary Poppins satchels?" Dawn asked as they were loading the mice. "Would have saved us a lot of packing."

"Because they sold Angel the cheap one-shot version," said Harry, "only works until the bag is opened."

"Okay," said Willow, "before we get into the trees and have to ride in the dark, everyone who needs it drink one of these potions, they'll let you see pretty well in dim light for about forty-eight hours. But try to be extra careful about looking at bright lights and the sun, that might be pretty painful. Wear sunglasses if you've got them."

"Did I ever mention I'm allergic to mice?" asked Kennedy, eyeing their mounts apprehensively.

"Why didn't you say?" asked Willow.

"Not something that comes up very often."

"What can we do?"

"I'll walk. Slayer strength, remember. Besides, I'm probably more useful on the ground."

"That won't work. The mice are spelled, they'll be pretty fast. You'd get tired before long. Just a moment..." she touched Kennedy, and both of them glowed white for a second. "Okay, that ought to keep you okay for a few hours, I'll work on something better once we've set up camp."

"All right, but if I get any rashes you're gonna have to kiss them better."

"Okay," said Angel, once everyone was in the saddle, "try to keep alert, but pay attention to where you're going, the mice ought to avoid obstacles but they probably won't spot things like overhanging branches. I'll lead the way, Kennedy bring up the rear, the rest of you watch out for trouble.

"One thing I was wondering," Harry said as they rode through the woods, "how on earth did you get a map showing the Dragon Reserve and Dracula's castle? Both of them are supposed to be unplottable."

"They are," said Willow, overhearing, "but that spell's not as useful as it used to be. The way it works, places on opposite sides of the unplottable area seem to be next to each other when any ordinary map is drawn, even on things like satellite photos. That's all well and good, but given a sufficiently powerful computer and enough information you soon start to notice things; places supposedly a mile apart that have GPS coordinates that put them twenty miles apart, sudden jumps in the earth's magnetic field declination, roads that take big detours for no apparent reason, discontinuities in cloud movements on weather radar and satellite images, that sort of thing. You can't plot the unplottable area itself but it kinda distorts the world around it, like a black hole, and you can use the distortion to plot its boundaries and work out the real map of the surrounding area. That's why the castle and the reservation are just blank areas on the map, not even labelled; if they were marked in any way the spell would cut in and change the map. I found the California Sasquatch Reserve that way, before I even knew that the wizarding world existed."

"What she said," said Angel with a shrug. "Explains why the map was so expensive."

"That's probably why they don't protect Hogwarts that way," said Harry. "Dumbledore must have realised it wasn't safe any more."

"There'll be other defences when we get closer," said Willow, "muggle repelling spells and so forth, but nothing we won't be able to handle. After all, the place is set up for wizarding visitors, they can't keep everyone out."

There was a distant wolf-howl, then another and another.

"On the other hand," said Angel, "it isn't necessarily going to be easy. Let's get the pace up a little, get moving before those wolves come looking."

* * * * *

There was a hint of light in the Eastern sky when Angel signalled for a halt. "We've made good time, about another twenty-five miles to go, and this clearing looks as good as anywhere. Willow, Harry, you want to scan for danger?"

"I think it's clear," said Harry. "No magic, no animals worth worrying about."

"No it isn't," said Willow. "There's something metal buried about half-way across, feels old, maybe fifty or sixty years. Could be a bomb or a mine left over from world war two. Let's see..." Her eyes blazed silver... "Bomb, I think, could still be live. Just a second." She climbed down from her horse and rummaged into one of her bags, pulled out a small translucent grey bottle, and sent it floating through the air across the clearing. About half way across it slowly tilted until a stream of glowing liquid dribbled down to the ground, and grey smoke and fumes rose where it landed. "That oughta be enough." The bottle went back to upright and flew back towards Willow, hovering in front of her. She looked carefully for droplets on the outside of the bottle, then stoppered it and put it back in her pack. In the clearing a thick cloud of dense grey smoke slowly vanished.

"What t'fuk was that?" asked Tony.

"Alkahest," said Willow, "an alchemical potion. Speeds chemical reactions, turns metal into rust, breaks down explosives into harmless residues. They used to think it was a route to the Philosopher's stone but it turned out to be a dead end. Too dangerous to handle until they came up with Teflon bottles."

"Merlin!" said Harry, "How the hell did you get a permit for that stuff? It's lethal."

"Permit?" asked Willow, looking innocent. "Okay, we're clear now, bomb's gone. But don't go off too far into the woods, there may be others around."

"We've got six tents," said Gunn, "looks like four for people and two for the animals. It says on the labels they're self-erecting, 'so easy a child can do it,' but I guess that's if you're a wizard 'cause I can't even figure out how to open the packs. Harry, you want to try it?"

"Okay. These'll open up to about five by ten feet but they're larger when you get inside, we just need some clear spaces to set them up." Harry walked around the clearing, putting the canvas cylinders down on the ground. "This look okay?"

"Fine," said Angel.

"What about digging f'kin latrines?" asked Tony.

"They ought to have all mod cons," said Harry, tapping the first with his wand then walking on to the next. Behind him there was a complicated explosion of tent poles, canvas, and ropes, and a paisley tent appeared. The next had barber-shop stripes, then polka dots, searing fluorescent orange, an op-art black and white spiral that somehow hurt the eyes, and luminous lime green.

"Not exactly inconspicuous," said Angel, "can you do anything about that?"

Harry went round the circle again, muttering and tapping the tents with his wand, and the colours changed to camouflage patterns. "Okay, anyone notice which had the 'safe for undead' stickers?" asked Angel.

"This one and the one over there," said Harry. "At least I think so."

"Okay. Gunn and I'll share this one, Willow and Kennedy, Mister Soprano and Mister Fiore, Harry and Dawn. Everyone happy? Let's get the mice into the stables, my skin's starting to itch."

"You'd better get inside," said Willow, "the rest of us can handle things."

"Okay, but give me a few minutes before you move into any of the other tents in case Harry's wrong about this one being sunlight-proof and I have to sprint for cover."

* * * * *

"This is cool," said Dawn, looking around the interior of the 'tent' she was sharing with Harry, which from the inside looked like a modern city apartment. There were two bedrooms, a communal living area, a kitchen, and a bathroom, all with the appropriate furniture. Windows that had been invisible from the outside looked out onto the clearing and the woods. Dawn tried the taps, and got hot and cold running water and heat from the stove. The cupboards and refrigerator in the kitchen contained a wide range of foods. The wardrobe in her bedroom was empty when Dawn looked, but as she opened the door a dozen tape measures whipped out and briefly encircled her, measuring everything from her hat size to her feet; before she had time to protest they vanished, and the wardrobe filled with clothing in her sizes, ranging from formal wizarding wear to rugged outdoor styles. The only other overt sign of magic was a soft glowing light from the ceiling instead of electric light; Harry showed Dawn how to turn it on and off by saying "lumos".

"Last time I went camping," said Harry, "it was a tent a lot like this, except that it'd belonged to an old lady and smelled of cat pee and damp, and didn't have the wardrobes. This is the luxury model and looks brand new." He sat down on the sofa and groaned slightly.

"You okay?"

"A bit sore, and my legs are a little cramped."

"I'm okay, guess super-fast healing has its advantages. Do we make breakfast, supper, or just get some sleep?"

"I could do with some breakfast, I think."

"Better make it then, I'll grab a quick shower. I'll have bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast. Oh, and milky coffee."

"I walked into that, didn't I?"

"Sucker." She went to her room, changed into a bathrobe, and came back, humming, to find Harry already under the shower. "Hey, that's cheating."

"From the sound of things I need this a damn sight more than you do. Besides, breakfast'll make itself when we're ready, I just need to start the spell going. You could always join me if you're desperate for a shower."

"I told you all the reasons why I'm not getting into a relationship."

"And I accept them. So let's have a brief mad fling instead."

Dawn thought of protesting then laughed, shrugged, took off her bathrobe and joined him in the shower.

* * * * *

"Everyone settled in?" asked Angel.

"I've shown the hoods how to work the cooker and the lights and stuff," said Willow, "can't say they seemed particularly grateful."

"We don't need gratitude. I'm not sure we need them at all now, but they might come in useful eventually."

"Whoever set this up was thorough," said Gunn, coming in from the kitchen, "Especially from Angel's point of view. Double doors to keep out as much light as possible, necro-whatsit glass in the windows, there's even blood in the 'fridge."

"Probably comes as standard with the 'safe for vampires' model, or tailors the food to the occupants."

"All I've gotta do now is figure out how to get it warm without a microwave," said Angel.

"Heat some water and put the bag in that for a couple of minutes."

"Good idea. How's Kennedy? Any sign of that allergy?"

"Not so far. But I'm gonna check her out fairly closely."

"I'll bet..." muttered Gunn.

"How about Dawn and Harry," Angel asked hastily, "are they okay?"

"I popped my head around the door, but they seemed kinda busy so I left them to it."

"Busy?"

"With things."

"Things?"

"Let's just leave it at that."

"Oh..kay."

"Anyone else in this tent think he should have bought his girl along?" Angel asked after Willow left.

"Oh yeah."

* * * * *

Late afternoon found Willow sitting by the crater in the middle of the clearing, apparently meditating. Dawn and Kennedy were practicing with swords fifty feet away, far enough that they wouldn't disturb her too much, close enough to help her if there was any trouble. Harry was trying to keep track of the combat, the way he could follow a Quidditch game, but his magical senses kept being drawn towards Willow. She was doing something, he just couldn't work out what.

Eventually Kennedy scored a hit on Dawn, hard enough to draw blood from a long gash in her leg. Kennedy started to back away but Dawn dropped, rolled, and came up inside Kennedy's guard. The move finished with Kennedy disarmed and Dawn's sword at her throat, and she said "Okay, you're dead." Small flashes of light moved up and down the wound, healing it. "What did you do wrong?"

"Underestimated your determination, I guess." They separated and began to clean their blades.

"Corr-rect, give the Slayer a coconut. It takes a lot more than a cut to put me down, and since I don't have to worry about injuries I can fight through them. When I was training my instructor got himself impaled, ran up my sword to get me. If he or I can do that, imagine what a determined demon might be able to do. Here endeth the lesson. I'm gonna shower and find another pair of jeans." She went back into the tent.

"Is Dawn really that good?" Harry asked after she'd gone.

"She isn't Olympic class and she doesn't have Slayer strength or speed, but yeah, she's pretty good, she was taught by a guy who's been fighting for hundreds of years. But it's not having to worry about wounds that makes her a really tough proposition. I could go all-out on her with full strength and speed and do enough damage to put her down, but that'd be a very bad habit to get into, if I did that to any other sparring partner I'd kill her permanently."

"That must be difficult."

"First thing we learn in training is always to keep it under to control. Slayers that don't learn that kill the people they're supposed to be protecting."

"I can see that." There was a pause, then he asked "What's Willow up to? I've been trying to figure it out, but it isn't any kind of magic I know."

"It's Wicca, elemental earth magic," she said fondly. "She's trying to heal the damage from the bomb and the Alkahest."

"She's healing a hole in the ground?"

"Don't ask me, it isn't my scene, but it works for her. Apparently what she did left the ground polluted, poisoning the Earth-Mother or something. She's speeding up the chemical changes, getting rid of the poisons, that sort of thing. You've gotta remember she gets a lot of her power that way, from the Earth, she really doesn't want to piss it off. That's what opens Hellmouths."

"I suppose that makes sense, most wizards don't get their magic that way so it isn't something we learn about at school."

"There's a lot of things that aren't taught at school. Life, love, that sort of thing." Suddenly she sounded a lot more serious. "You love Dawn, don't you."

"I... I think so. I like her a lot anyway."

"Thought so. Keep an eye on Willow while I get something." She went into her tent, came back a minute later with a shoulder bag, and pulled out a wallet of photographs "Take a look at this." The picture showed a short blonde woman, Harry guessed that she was in her late twenties, standing between Dawn and a man with bleached hair. Harry thought he'd seen one like it in Dawn's room at the Hyperion.

"Dawn's the youngest in this picture, which of the other two would you say was the oldest?"

"Dawn's sister."

"She's just coming up to thirty. The guy next to her is Spike, her boyfriend. Can't remember his exact age, think he's about a hundred and forty or fifty."

"He's immortal?"

"He's a vampire."

"Oh. I remember now, Dawn said, another one with a soul like Angel."

"The point I'm trying to make here is that when Buffy's sixty, if they last that long, he'll still look the same, like he's in his early twenties, and Dawn will still look eighteen. But Buffy won't, and by then I expect she'll be starting to feel a little bitter about it. And you won't look eighteen either."

"Dawn's already said this. I know that there'd be problems."

"The big thing about loving someone is that you do things together. Part of that is growing together, getting old together. Willow and me, we don't exactly have what you'd call a conventional relationship, but if we both make it to sixty and still love each other we'll be little old ladies together, probably keep a dozen cats and dress up in pointy hats to terrorize the neighbourhood kids at Halloween. I'd imagine that by then Dawn will have changed her identity three or four times, maybe disguised herself a little to avoid embarrassing encounters with old friends. Maybe enrolled in college for the fifth or sixth time, it's a good way for someone who looks eighteen to keep a low profile. But any boyfriend she has now will be sixty, and he'll look and feel it."

"I know all this."

"You know it, I don't think you feel it yet. Let's see if I can make it clearer. Why are you listening to me at all?"

"Because you know Dawn, and you seem to know what you're talking about."

"Any other reason?"

"Because you're older than me, I suppose."

"You're starting to get it. What you maybe don't get is that I'm not that much older than Dawn, I was only eighteen when I met Willow. I look my age, Dawn doesn't. But you're treating her as a girl your own age, not as a woman in her twenties. You can't help it, nobody can, not entirely, our perception of age programmes the way we react to people. Intellectually you know that she's older than you but you don't feel it in your gut."

"I think I see what you mean."

"I hope so. What I'm saying is that once this is all over be ready to let her go, and look for someone you can have a proper relationship with. Dawn knows that there's no future in it, not for you, I'm hoping that you do too."

"What about Dawn, isn't she entitled to happiness?"

"She is, but not if she ruins other people's lives. She's still new to this, remember, it's only been four years, so she has trouble letting go. I think you'll have to help her with that. Maybe she'll find someone eventually, another immortal or someone like Spike or Angel, but in the long term I don't think it can be you. Here endeth my lesson."

"Thanks... I think."

"You're welcome."

* * * * *

"Those f'kin bitches can fight," said Tony, staring out from one of the windows of his tent. "beats American Gladiator any day. Put this on the stage in the club, maybe wit'm naked or wearing chainmail bikinis, or topless, we'd make a..." He stopped talking as he saw the violent end to the fight.

"Look at her leg," said Furio. "She was cut, cut bad, now it's healed."

"I saw. Loadsa little sparks, like electricity. What t'fuk is that?"

"I don't know. Maybe she's a monster like the vampire."

"Maybe. Or maybe it's more of that magic. Wonder if she's as bullet-proof as she said."

"I don't have a gun. I could try a crossbow."

"It can wait, but think about it. Think about all of them. These bastards know too much about me, and dead men tell no tales."

* * * * *

Angel lay on his bed listening and waited for dusk. In the living room of their tent Gunn was sharpening weapons, further afield he could hear Dawn and Kennedy practicing, and voices. Soprano and his henchman. He eavesdropped for a while, heard almost nothing he hadn't expected, then turned his attention to Harry and Kennedy's conversation. It wasn't exciting, but it was marginally more interesting than reading the month-old copy of the Daily Prophet that was the only reading material in the tent, and he approved of most of what Kennedy was saying. Some of it reminded him uncomfortably of his relationships with Buffy and Cordelia; there were encouraging signs that Cordy's demonic traits included longevity, but it would be years before they were certain. If that turned out to be wrong he'd have to find a way of easing out of their relationship without hurting her.

* * * * *

As soon as the sun set they were on the move again. This time Angel was at the rear, and found excuses to keep Tony and Furio near him, a long rambling conversation about gangsters he'd known in Las Vegas and his visits to Italy in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and during the second world war. At the end of it he was reasonably sure he'd killed some of Tony's ancestors, unfortunately not the right ones, or not soon enough. He stayed close enough to make certain that he would be able to stop either of them trying to test Dawn's invulnerability, or attacking anyone else in the party.

At about eleven they started to feel something; an urge to go back, turn another way, avoid a wasted journey, and the mice slowed to a halt and looked confused. Willow raised a hand and said "This is it, the edge of the reserve. Looks like the key is simple, you just have to know that it's there and promise not to harm any dragons and mean it. Repeat after me... This is the Romanian Dragon Reserve... I will not disturb any nests... I will not harm any dragons unless I am attacked... If I am attacked I will do the minimum of damage to defend myself... I enter at my own risk... and am aware that it is a dangerous place."

They all repeated it, except for Tony and Furio. "If you don't say the words," said Willow, "and mean them, you'll be feeling nauseous within half a mile, and unconscious soon after. Alternatively, you could just stay here in the woods. We ought to be back in a day or so. Trouble is you may be inside the area where dragons hunt for food and that could be nasty if you don't have magic for protection."

"Okay," said Tony, "Take us through it again." Willow did, and they reluctantly joined in.

"All right," said Angel, "we're looking for something like a camp site where a small military force could prepare for the mission, once we find that I can track them to the place where they were killed. It'll probably be somewhere on this side of the reservation, nearest to Dracula's castle, but that's still hundreds of square miles. Any suggestions?"

"If they practiced with the mug... err, with modern weapons that might have left traces," said Harry, "like that bomb Willow found."

"Maybe," said Willow, "metal splinters in the ground, in trees. Let me try it. Goddess, hear my plea, lead us to the place where men's weapons have harmed you."

A tiny golden speck appeared amongst the trees and flew to Willow, circled her twice, then landed on the head of her mouse, a tiny ball-shaped bird with red eyes and a long beak. "What is it?" she asked.

"Bloody hell," said Harry, "it's a snidget, they're practically extinct. Wizards used to use them in Quidditch games." It took off again, flew a few yards, then back to Willow.

"I think it wants us to follow it. I think we'd better, the Goddess might have sent it."

"Anything for a weird life," Angel muttered, then said "Okay, let's give it a try. Follow that snidget."

They set off, into the woods, at a slight angle to their original course. Occasionally they saw a flare of flame in the distance, and guessed that a dragon had flown by. None came particularly close.

About twenty minutes later the bird flew off, and Willow said "I can feel it now, somewhere not far ahead. There's been death here, and damage to the woods."

"Okay," said Angel in a low voice. "Everyone be on your guard. Tether the mice here, we'll go the rest of the way on foot."

They set off into the trees, and after a hundred yards or so emerged in a clearing where trees were shattered and there seemed to be no living plants. "Here, said Willow. "People died here, at least five or six, maybe more. Something hurt the trees and the plants, poisoned the soil."

"This isn't their camp," said Angel, "this is where they died. I can smell old blood, decay, body fluids. Looks like the Goddess was feeling helpful. Now we need to find out what really happened."

TBC