Title: A Dark and Deadly Valley
Author: Capt40
Email: dgise@yahoo.com
Summary: An HP/BTVS Crossover and the sequel to Fighting the Good Fight. The story resumes weeks before Harry and company enter Year Six; Voldemort, defiant but not defeated, seeks his terrible revenge on the Scoobies and their Hogwarts allies even as his armies mass for war. While Willow, Giles, and Tara return to Hogwarts to help Dumbledore marshal his own forces, Buffy and the shorthanded Scoobies unknowingly face an evil that none of them, not even Buffy, can possibly stop before it destroys them all. The only man who can? He's abandoned every cause but his own, a quixotic quest to earn a Slayer's love …
Author's Warning: If you haven't read FTGF, stop. Go back to the BTVS Crossovers page at fanfiction.net. Read FTGF. You'll be lost here if you don't, and it'll spoil all the surprises.
Rating: PG-13, but it's an 80's PG-13, meaning swearing, violence, and a few sexual references. If you watch Buffy, you're okay.
Reviews: Much appreciated, as long as they're honest. They're what keeps me going.
Distribution: If you've got a home for it, e-mail me and we'll talk.
Disclaimer: Not that this will save my hide at all, but I don't own any of this BTVS or HP stuff. I am merely borrowing. Thanks to Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling for not suing me, as well as creating these great worlds. Also, obviously, any Star Wars references do not belong to me in any way, shape or form, and are in fact the property of George Lucas (I assume).
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"[O]ur people, our Empire, and indeed the whole English-speaking world are passing through a dark and deadly valley."
- Sir Winston Churchill to the House of Commons, January 22, 1941
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"Are you ready?"
"Are you?"
"We could have brought the girls if you're so nervous."
"Are you insane? You know what it's like in there."
"You didn't have to come. I've been through worse alone and survived."
"Hey, you need a wingman, I respect that. You're sure this is the place, though? Even an experienced demon hunter like myself … well, it kinda gives me the wig."
"It's the only place they'll have it. And according to my source, they've got exactly one, which means we have to hurry or we'll never get it. I would've thought you'd be used to places like this. That you'd be, you know, at one with its people." He smirked at his companion; he actually enjoyed throwing himself into this sort of fray, on the rare occasions when he had no other choice.
"Oh, I am. Used to them, that is. Not that I go all the time or anything. Definitely not." He paused nervously, remembering the last time he had done this. "Didja, y'know, bring your lightsaber? 'Cause it's kind of like the United Nations of weirdness in there, all the way down to the traditional garb."
"It's not ready yet. Sorry. I guess you'll just have to protect me." He laughed grimly, earning a black look. "Now can we go, Xander? If we're late, Willow'll be pissed at us. Again."
"Last weekend was so not our fault. How often do you get delayed by a fight with rabid midgets? Besides, this is just the Bronze. She isn't hand-cooking dinner for us this time." Grey glared at him from behind his black Oakleys. "Okay, okay, let's go. But Grey?"
"Yeah?"
"Watch my back, huh? I'd hate to have to face Willow and Buffy and explain who hurt me."
"They aren't really at a Star Trek thingy, are they? Could they be dorkier?"
"Aw, c'mon Buffy. I think it's cute. Besides, it's also a comics convention, and Grey said he only goes when he needs something he can't get anywhere else. If you're gonna pick on my boyfriend, I'm getting a mocha," Willow huffed indignantly.
"It's okay, Will," Buffy said, amused at her friend's reaction, "I was only kidding. You know I think he's a good guy, and his dork rating is below the critical line. He's only been here slaying with us for what, two months? And I haven't objected, have I? It's not like we hired Jonathan and whatsisname, Tucker's brother, after all."
"Sorry, your soothing words have no effect on my veneer of indignant rage. I'm mocha-bound." She pushed her tea away and moved towards the Espresso Bar's cashier.
"Oh, no you're not. Don't think you can guilt me into letting you get one. I'm not going to the Bronze with the Pogo Queen tonight."
"Can you believe he said that?" Willow said with a giggle, dropping her defensive posture and returning to her seat. Grey had been more than a little stunned by Willow's reaction to most of the beverages at the Espresso Pump. During one particularly egregious babblefest, he had grabbed her shoulders and held her in the seat for ten straight minutes to keep her from bouncing around.
"What is this? Does she always bounce like this? She's like the frickin' Pogo Queen."
Buffy's voice brought her back to the present.
"He is a little with the goofy, though, huh?"
"What? Oh, yeah, goofy. Totally goofy. Not at all like he was before."
"But you're cool with that, right?" Buffy asked, suddenly concerned. The change in Grey over the summer had been really noticeable, even to someone as preoccupied as her.
"Definitely. He was nice the other way, too, but now …" Her lips turned up in a huge grin. "I like him a lot. He still makes my stomach all swirly."
Buffy smiled. Seeing her friend happy felt so great. "I'm glad, Will; swirly stomach feelings are key to any relationship." She paused, considering that statement. "Okay, maybe not actual swirly feelings. That would just be gross. But really, Will, it's great. You deserve somebody whose only worldly thought is you."
Willow caught the note of despair in the last sentence and put her hand lightly on Buffy's arm.
"He'll come back, Buffy. I know you miss him, but he'll be back and you'll work things out and it'll be dandy."
"Dandy?"
"Mmm hmm," Willow answered with a nod. "Dandy."
"I hope so," Buffy said morosely. "I just wish I knew where he was. That I'd get a letter or something. Just so I knew everything was okay."
The wind howled and the clouds bellowed as mighty thunder shook the earth. The rain came down in a rush, stinging like wasps where it impacted on his bare skin. The cuts on his face, some still raggedly open despite vampiric healing, burned like acid where the water rolled in.
At his feet, the demon lay haphazardly in the sandy entrance to the cave, its head dangling unnaturally from its lifeless corpse.
"Eyes aren't glowing now, are they, ya bastard?" Spike muttered as he tried in vain to light a soggy cigarette. "Legend my arse. Fuckin' cockroach trainer in the soddin' circus."
He gave up and tossed the fag away, then caught sight of a dead roach clinging to his boot. With a sharp kick he flicked the lifeless body off, watching as it bounced along the soggy African sand.
"Bloody hell," he whispered, finally accepting what he knew he should have done at the beginning. "Peaches, here I come."
"Are you planning on staying longer this time?"
"Was that sarcasm from the King of Brood?"
Angel leaned back against the doorframe and clasped his hands together.
"Actually, no. Just wondering if you had some sort of plan."
"Oh." She dropped her usual sneer. For a second, she looked every bit the frightened, confused kid that she was finally getting the chance to be. Then the haughtiness returned to her face. "I dunno. Looking to get rid of me so quick?"
"No," he said honestly. "Stay as long as you like. We've got plenty of room."
She nodded. "Um … Angel?"
"Yeah, Faith?"
"Y'know … thanks," she said, shrugging and looking away.
"You're welcome."
"Any luck?" Xander looked down at the row of Flash books in plastic sleeves. Grey answered without looking up.
"Not yet … hold on …" He flipped through another six inches and lifted one half out of the box. "Bingo."
"And it was really that hard to find?"
"Don't know why," Grey replied, lifting the book all the way out and looking over its condition. "Just seemed like I could never find it in London. It bugged me, you know? Got under my skin."
"I hear you. I remember one time Buffy and I fought this horde of … well, never mind. Let's just say I know what it feels like when something digs into you."
Grey's left eyebrow went up. Xander shrugged.
"How much time before we have to meet the girls?"
"Couple hours."
"Want to look around?"
They turned and Xander scanned the crowd. Sure, there were more than a few people at the Star Trek end in serious Borg garb speaking in an oddly unitary way, but most of the rest seemed to be normal. He was actually enjoying himself, and there were a few issues he needed to browse for.
"Sure. Why not? I mean what could … keep us …" Was that … holy shit. "Grey, you see that blonde girl?" Xander, not wanting to point and draw attention to himself, settled for an awkward half-nod.
"By your seizure-like attempt at non-chalance, I'm thinking ex-girlfriend?"
"Oh, hell no. The thing is, her name's ..."
The blonde in question suddenly leaped atop a signing table and started shouting.
"Hey! Geeks! Losers! Listen up! That's right, look at me, you freaks!" Heads turned, focusing on the owner of the shrieking voice. Vampiric ridges sprouted on her oval face and her eyes turned yellow. "Pay attention. Good. Okay, boys, dinner is served."
" … Harmony," Xander finished, "and she's a vampire."
"Well, at least she's got friends."
The dark-haired man followed Grey's spinning gaze. A half-dozen vampires were sprinkled throughout the crowd, growling at the packed buffet crowding around them.
"Shoulda brought the girls," Xander said ruefully.
"Wish the girls were here," Ron said dejectedly.
"So Hermione's off on her trip, huh?"
"Yeah. Left yesterday." Ron kicked a small stone across the garden.
"We'll see her in ten days, Ron. It's not that long."
"Easy for you to say."
Harry cocked his head questioningly. "What's that s'posed to mean?"
"Sorry. I'm just grumpy about her. We yelled at each other a little last time. Both on edge. I don't wanna really talk about it."
"Well, at least you got to see her every week or two. I didn't see Ginny for two months."
"Speakin' of, where is she? You two've been stuck to each other for days."
The hint of bitterness in Ron's voice made Harry instantly wary. He felt badly that Ron felt neglected, and he had tried to make time for him. But he was so happy to finally see Ginny … and so amazed that the Dursleys had let him go (more out of their desire to see him depart without damaging the house than any noble impulse, he was certain), that he had trouble staying away from her.
"She and your mum went to pick up some things for the house. Don't know what."
"Oh."
"You alright, Ron?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure?" Harry hadn't realized that he and Ginny had grated on his friend so much.
"I'm fine. Really. Just, I don't know, restless, I guess. S'not you an' Ginny, if that's what you're thinking. But now that Fred and George are gone … whatever. I'm just whinin'. You up for some flying?"
"Definitely," Harry said with a smile on his face. Summering with the Dursleys had meant way too much time out of the air.
"I don't like this, Albus. Not at all. That place sounds extremely dangerous."
Arthur Weasley's face was scrunched up in a scowl. He shifted his body around, trying to get comfortable in the stiff, high-backed chairs of the Ministry conference room. His wand kept digging into his hip.
"I know, Arthur, but the boys are very capable. I'm sure you know that."
"We can do it, dad," Fred chimed in.
"You can count on us. We won't let her down," George said to the room's other occupant.
Arthur glanced at Professor Giles, who had a troubled look on his face as well. "This … this Hellmouth. I can't believe it's safe," he repeated.
"I won't lie to you," Giles said, "it is certainly not a stroll in the spring rain. Particularly if the boys do what we ask of them, they'll be under fire, if you'll excuse the bad pun, fairly often. The only thing I can say is that Buffy is extraordinarily talented. She is perhaps the most-accomplished Slayer in the history of the Watcher's Council, as well as the longest-lived. I trained her and her compatriots myself. She will do her best to keep them alive."
"The boys … I love them, but are you sure …" He let it hang, not wanting to insult his sons.
"They're quite capable of handling this," Dumbledore said, his gaze roaming over Fred and George. "When sufficiently motivated, as you know, they are quite talented. When sufficiently motivated."
"We know what's at stake here, Professor," Fred said, his voice grim and his eyes deadly serious. "I'm not too keen on bloodsucking fiends an' demons from Hell's fourth circle or whatever conquering the world."
"Plus, it'll give us a test market for our knick-knacks," George added half-jokingly. His brother shot him a look, and he straightened up.
"Yes, about that," Giles broke in, "you'll have to be careful. My assistant, Anya, is very … particular about how she runs the shop. She will be your supervisor, and I expect you two not to give her much difficulty."
"We'll behave, Professor," they chorused.
"See that you do."
Arthur pondered the question as he looked his twin sons over. They would go regardless of what he said, but his approval was important to them. He just didn't know if he could give it in good conscience.
George saw the look on his father's face and understood what he was wrestling with. "See, dad, it's like this: if we go, we're able to do what we want, which is sell our stuff, and do something useful at the same time. We don't have the cash to hang out our own shingle. We just don't. An' I know you don't want us to, and that you don't want us in danger…"
"…but we're in danger anyway," Fred continued. "You Know Who is on the loose, and everybody knows you stand with Professor Dumbledore. We're targets, whether we're there or here. At least this way we're doin' what we like and freein' some other people up to help stop him."
"Buffy really does need the assistance," Giles added. "We learned that last year, and she says that activity around the Hellmouth is increasingly markedly. With Willow and Tara both at Hogwarts, she lacks a trained magic-user on her side. If not Fred and George … well, frankly, I don't know what we'll do."
The gravity of the situation had already sunk in. Arthur knew what he had to say. He just hated putting his boys in so much danger.
"Very well. Let's head home and tell your mother. I'm sure she'll be pleased," he added, knowing that Molly would have more than a few reddening words to toss in his face.
"Okay, hon. Honest opinion." Jess offered an abbreviated pirouette, her short black skirt fanning out around her as the light from Tara's fireplace caught the gold highlights. "Is it me?"
"Very you," Tara answered. "I like the gold sparkles. A-and mine?"
"Splendid," Jess said with a nod, even though the outfit was a little … good witch for her. She liked Tara a lot, but the girl's fashion sense was odd. Long, flowing skirts weren't really her taste. Ah, well, if it makes her happy, Jess thought. "Now s'long as you don't take Willow away from Grey and I don't take Grey away from Willow with these fabulous outfits, we'll be just fine."
Tara giggled. She and the Irish girl had grown close enough over the summer that Jess felt more than at ease making those kinds of jokes, and Tara was glad for it. The magic lessons had been hard for them both, Tara because she never seemed to push herself hard enough and Jess because she often pushed too hard. Together, they had managed to find a comfortable speed and a comfortable friend, both sorely needed.
"It should be f-fun," Tara said. "I haven't been to the Bronze in awhile, not since before Hogwarts."
"Yeah, definitely." Jess' voice trailed off and her face darkened.
"Still nervous?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Uh huh."
"Sure and you must think I'm a right bastard, then, for giving him up but not letting him go."
"N-no, n-not at all, Jess. It must be hard, seeing them together." Willow and Grey had come to visit Hogwarts on several occasions over the summer. Tara had watched Jess nearly come apart after each one, though while the couple had been on campus, she had given no sign of her turmoil, and Tara figured that they had no idea.
"That it is," she answered honestly. "I mean, they're good about it an' all. Willow especially was workin' real hard at it, but … god, I miss him."
"It will get better if you give it time," Tara said for the hundredth time, wondering as always if it really would. She had admitted to Jess that seeing Willow with Grey started the pangs in her own stomach. The news had been less than comforting.
"I hope so. I really do." The girl's face brightened suddenly, another of the abrupt mood shifts that Tara could never track. She contented herself with simply going along with them until she could understand them better. "Let's go dance. Then I'll feel right as rain, as my ma used to say."
"S-sounds good. B-besides, they won't start the fun without us."
"So you've got a stake, right?"
"Oh, uh," Xander looked again at each of the unmasked vamps in turn, "I'm not exactly armed to the teeth. Which is to say, I have teeth and arms. Little short on weaponry, though."
Grey slid a stake from a wrist sheath Buffy had given him. "Here. Take this one."
"You have another?" Xander gripped the stained wood with white knuckles.
"Don't worry. I've got my rapier wit."
"You should take Harmony, then. She's only got about half that. Less, if it's a day that ends in 'y'."
Before Grey could form a suitable response, the vamps started grabbing people and screaming erupted in the packed crowds. With the narrow aisles and flood of terrified humanity, the prospects of escape were pretty dim.
"Come on," he shouted to Xander over the sudden din, "up, up, and away!" He jumped onto a table, kicking the comic books out of his way as he raced for the nearest vampire. Dressed in the latest in mall fashion, it looked a few years older than Grey and had its mouth clamped onto the neck of a pale blonde girl. With a flying leap, Grey tackled them both to the floor.
Xander went the other direction, charging for Harmony, who, he figured sadly, was what passed for a leader among this bunch of undead idiots. One of them saw his stake and moved to block his path. With a surly growl, it loosed a slow right hook that Xander easily slipped. He slapped his elbow into its face, and then rammed his knee into the crotch of the vampire's jeans. The demon howled in pain and barely noticed when Xander plunged his stake through the center of its letter jacket.
Grey and the vampire both came up swinging, but the preppy ex-high schooler wasn't much of a match for a trained auror. In seconds Grey left him twitching on the floor, bones from his broken neck having sliced neatly through his spinal chord. The remaining four vampires paused; clearly, the crowd of geeks wasn't cooperating like Harmony had said they would. All of them looked to her for help.
She was too busy struggling with Xander to notice. When he had closed within ten feet, she recognized him.
"Xander Harris, is that you?"
"Yep. And Buffy's over there," he gestured vaguely to the other side of the room, "so you better take your skanky, unicorn-loving ass out of here before she makes me vacuum you up."
"Ooh, listen to the tough guy." She hopped down from the table and charged. "I'm gonna kick your hair-pulling butt all over this room before the stupid Slayer even knows I'm here."
"You stood on a table! Of course she knows …" Harmony cut him off with a nasty hip check, knocking him to the ground and driving the wind from his lungs. As she leaned in for the bite, he reached back and grabbed her ponytail. With a hard yank, her head popped up and he slammed his forehead into her nose.
"Oo bashtersh," she yelled, rolling away from him. Blood ran down from her nose onto her pink shirt. "Thishtop wash Gap! I gesshu, Xander Harrish." She turned and ran for the door, leaving a stunned Xander staring after her.
Three of her minions followed suit, abandoning their early dinner and fleeing the convention at top speed. One of them saw Xander lying there and moved in for the kill.
"You hurt the mistress," it said. The vampire, a burly type in a plaid shirt and jeans, loomed over Xander, who held the stake defensively above his chest. "I'll eat you for that."
"Come on, can't we work this out, man to demon? I mean, heh heh, you let me live, I leave quietly and don't get my friend the Slayer?"
The vampire let out a guttural growl. Xander sat up and started to shimmy backwards, but it followed, ready to pounce. Expecting to feel sharp fangs rip into his neck, Xander heard a loud thwack instead. The vampire's eyes went wide; it toppled over, the stake moved up, and suddenly Xander was coughing from the dust. Grey stood over him, smirking.
"I suppose now you'll want to go shower before we meet the girls, huh?"
