Disclaimer: Buffy's Joss Whedon's, Harry and crew are J.K. Rowling's. And the five inches of plot in there are mine. Don't hurt me. I make no money off this.Warning:
These ficlets will contain definite (non explicit but definitely there) Threesome Action
. As in, three people being with each other, romantically. Namely: Harry, Charlie and Buffy. Deal with it or don't but please don't write me a review and bitch about it.
Also, I really do love any concrit you give me but please, people, stop pointing out that there are no quotation marks? I am fully aware of that.
When Harry arrives at the Burrow the summer after the uneventful end of his sixth year, the fight is well underway, owls coming and going almost twice a day. What’s going on, he asks Ron who shrugs as he drops into the sun warmed grass and pats a spot beside him. Charlie refuses to come home.
Over the course of the next week, Harry learns that Molly Weasley desires to have her children within her sight, now that the killings grow more and more frequent and the rate of the war picks up. Harry doesn’t quite understand why she would want her second oldest son to return from safe Romania to the dubious safety of a badly warded house in the middle of a war zone but he knows that Molly Weasley loves her children in a way that he will never understand and so he stays on the sidelines, refusing to be drawn into the fight, refusing to take a side. This isn’t his family.
It’s Bill who finally volunteers for the sake of peace and buys a portkey that takes him to the dragon reserve where Charlie works and lives and is safe. I’ll talk to him, explain the situation, he offers before he leaves. He’s back less than three hours later.
He’s coming, Molly asks, no, demands as soon as he enters the kitchen through the backdoor, head ducked to fit through the small frame or maybe to hid his face. Harry takes two steps back and disappears into the cobwebbed shadows of the far corner like he used to do as a child at the Dursley’s.
And Bill shakes his head resignedly, dropping into the nearest chair, slouched and tired or perhaps a bit annoyed because Harry is pretty sure that Bill doesn’t really want to be back in Britain either. Fleur doesn’t like the Burrow and all in all, Molly’s mother henning makes things rather more complicated than they have to be.
Why not, Molly demands, hands on hips, face red as her fast fading hair.
A girl, Bill answers with a hint of the roguish grin Harry likes so much, Isn’t it always? He says he doesn’t want her to come.
That Harry understands better than anyone else, he is sure. And even while he stays neutral on the ouside, he cheers this strange girl he’s never met on silently, because Charlie always was his favourite of Ron’s brothers and if she makes him stay away, more power to her. Besides, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t be here either, would he? He’s not even seventeen and he doesn’t want to die, no matter how miserable his life sometimes gets. No, Harry wants to live somewhere far away from this war and so he crosses his fingers for the girl Charlie loves and hopes they stay far away from Britain, where they’re safe and he can dream just a bit of maybe being where they are.