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Deliver Us From Evil

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Summary: Where do you put something when you want to keep it really safe? With the most powerful families the magical world has ever seen of course! (Dawn/ Connor)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Connor-Centered
Harry Potter > Dawn-Centered
(Past Donor)KiaraFR151786,96067127,3971 Dec 0713 Mar 10No


DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter stuff- JK Rowling. Buffy stuff- Joss Whedon.

SUMMARY: HP/BtVS. When you want to keep something really safe, where do you send them? To two of the most powerful families the wizarding worlds has ever seen of course…

RATING: PG-13 for language.

TIMELINE: After BtVS and season four finale of Angel. Set during book five of HP, but is AU. Everything happened as written in books 1 thru 4, but I am changing book five significantly. Connor and Dawn are in their seventh year (with the Weasley twins).

Deliver Me From Evil by Kiara

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L.A.- May

Angel turned to Lilah and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Just one more piece of business. I’ve got to see him.”

“I'm sorry, Angel, but that wasn't part of the deal.”

“Value of compromise; remember, Lilah? I need to see him.” Angel said; an edge of steel in his voice. He may have given up his son, and he did truly believe that it was for the best, but he needed some reassurance that Wolfram and Hart had not done anything which he hadn’t agreed to. Connor deserved a normal life after everything he’d been through. And if Angel had to sacrifice their relationship for his son to be happy, then that was a price he was willing to pay.

“You're the boss.” Lilah shrugged and handed the vampire a folder and amulet to be taken to Sunnydale. ”But you can’t see Connor.”

“Why not?” His eyes flashed yellow for a moment; a glimpse at the demon within, a dangerous hint at what he was capable of.

“It’s impossible. He belongs to a different world now, Angel. He’s happy, healthy and has never tried to off either of his very human parents. If you were to turn up then it would raise all sorts of questions in his mind, the kind that could have him looking for you. Connor’s safe, Angel; as per our agreement.” Lilah promised, knowing that it would not be enough for the souled vampire. He had been screwed over by Wolfram and Hart one to many times to take her word for it, but she wasn’t offended at all. If anyone understood getting screwed over by W&H, it was Lilah. “If you need proof, then it can be arranged.”

“Thank you.” He said softly, turning to leave. He could understand her point about his presence raising questions, but he still needed to know.

Fred watched Angel leave, the confusion evident on her face mirrored on her colleagues. “Who's Connor?”

LONDON- August

“Keep up, will you?”

Connor turned to his younger brother who was dragging his heels behind him. As if back-to-school shopping wasn’t bad enough, he also had to mind his brother. Not that he really needed minding, he was old enough to look after himself but that kid always seemed to get into some sort of trouble.

“Come on, books next.” He gave his brother a gentle push to get him moving, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. Connor did love his brother, honest he did, but, like all siblings, they bickered and fought over the most trivial things- like whether ‘midnight black’ or ‘pure noir’ robes were best for school. They’d almost gotten thrown out of Madam Malkins for that one.

Out of the corner of his eye, Connor noticed a photographer across the street. The bulb on the camera flashed, capturing the duo walking up the street with their school bags. When he saw his subject looking, the photographer gave a wave and yelled out “For the Daily Prophet!” before mingling back into the crowd.

It was easy to find the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy was one of the London branch's most valuable clients so all the employees were familiar with their faces even if word-of-mouth was not enough to recognise them. The Malfoy's had a reputation, they were powerful, and so was Connor; that was what made it such a good fit (he wasn't called the Destroyer for nothing). He did not seem out of place as a pureblood wizard, plus there was the added bonus that hopefully with the memories of Lucius raising him, then Connor wouldn't start killing all their clients like his true father. The Destroyer may even be on their side when it came down to the ultimate battle between good and evil that had long been foretold. Connor would be an asset to whichever side he fought on and Wolfram and Hart would certainly welcome him onto their side. Putting him with the Malfoy's was the best way of ensuring this without breaking their contract with Angel- well, a wizarding life was perfectly normal for a wizard and Connor was as happy and safe as anyone else in this world.

Connor shook his head as the photographer left, ignoring the uneasy tingle down the back of his spine. It must be a really slow week for news if the Prophet was resorting to taking pictures of people shopping in Diagon Alley.

He didn’t know that the photographer was actually working for Wolfram and Hart and had been instructed to take pictures of him and his family so that they could be posted to a worried vampire in L.A. who might then give Lilah some peace.



A television screen flickered in the black, the only modern technology throughout the monastery. On the screen a short blond girl was fighting hoards of demons. She should’ve been dead in seconds, but she kept ducking and swinging with her sword. The tape’s viewers gasped as a younger brunette came into view, also swinging a sword. They fought side-by-side, slowly working their way through the masses that surrounded them. The monks sitting in the dark room flinched as the brunette took what looked like a particularly painful hit, but she got up again.

“If ya think that’s enough to keep me down then, to be honest, I’m offended.”

One of the monks moved forward, a frown deeply etched on his face. “I think we can stop it there. As you can see the slayer is failing to keep the Key safe from harm. I feel that it is time we found a new safe haven for it.”

Another monk nodded, his brown robes swaying against the stone floor. “If the key were to be killed the effects would be disastrous.”

There were murmurs of agreement around the room of the newly re-created monks of Dagon headquarters. They was no Glorifius to worry about this time, not for another few thousand years, but it was imperative that they have a base where they would watch over the Key and her keepers. It had been decided that it were too dangerous to hold the Key where it could be easily found, namely amongst the Monks of Dragon, so the hunt had began long ago to find a shortlist of appropriate protectors in the event that the slayer stopped doing an adequate job.

The first monk spoke again. “I believe we have found the ideal candidate. He resides in ‘the safest place in England’ and would be able to offer the key magical protection of the highest level. He falls under the protection of Albus Dumbledore, a name I'm sure you will recognise. We've read all the recent news from Fudge, the Minister for Magic, and the British wizarding world seems to be in peaceful times. The last real threat to them was Voldemort, the dark wizard defeated thirteen years ago and, aside from a few reports following the accidental death of a student this summer which the Ministry found to be absolutely nothing, Hogwarts seems to be a safe place to hide the Key. Are we agreed?”

Everyone in the room nodded. So the preparations for the spell to change the key’s form began.

ROME- October

Buffy got out of bed and stretched gingerly. That was some fight last night. She must have got knocked on the head at some point, everything seemed kind of fuzzy- that feeling you get when you think you’ve forgotten something but at the same time know that you haven’t.

She walked into the kitchen and clicked on her kettle. Coffee was definitely needed before she tried to sort out her thoughts. And toast. She did feel slightly better after having a bit of breakfast and waking up properly. That’s all it takes to get her to feel human again after a long night.

But as she looked around her empty apartment, she still felt uneasy. Something wasn’t right, something was missing. But for the life of her she couldn’t think what it was.


He went by many names, some feared, some almost forgotten. His followers, the loyal, called him the Dark Lord, a name that commanded the utmost fear in those who heard it. The rest of the world, the weaker ones and the unworthy ones, refused to name him: ‘He-who-must-not-be-named’, ‘you-know-who’ or even just ‘Him’ - capital ‘H’, spoken in a whisper. There was no mistake as to who he really was. There were others, the foolish, who didn’t realize the power he commanded and they dared to speak the name Lord Voldemort- the name he’d coined himself. Then there was the name forgotten by all but the old: Tom Riddle. He didn’t exist anymore. Riddle was weak, and Voldemort was anything but weak. He was magic. He could sense even the slightest change in the magical atmosphere.

Which is why he was sitting on his throne, everyone else barred from the room, while he tried to figure out what was different.

He’d sensed a change in magic. Magic was tainted with good, it was sickening really. It felt clean and untouched, until it was used and twisted into whatever curse the wizard wanted it to be. But the essence of magic, that which flows in the blood of every witch and wizard who wields a wand, was pure. Even if the person wasn’t.

Now he could feel a darker touch somewhere out there; mysterious, seducing and tainted. And so much more tangible than the magic that ran through his own veins, he could almost reach out and draw it into him. This was the second time he’d sensed this in the past few months. He’d only felt anything like this once before that and it had been years ago. A squib had tried to protect himself with earth magic. Of course it hadn’t worked; no wizard could stop Lord Voldemort, let alone a common squib but the feel of the magic had had the same dark touch.

But this was different. This was more powerful, he’d sensed it without even trying. What spell was powerful enough to leave such magical residue and who had cast it?

More importantly, what did that mean for him?


“Draco, do stop whining. It’s not particularly becoming.” Connor Malfoy, oldest son of Lucius Malfoy and heir to the Malfoy throne, remarked lazily as his younger brother started on yet another tirade against Harry flaming Potter. Sure Connor didn’t like the guy either, but there was no need to make an obsession out of it.

Draco growled, pacing up and down the rug that ran down the centre of the room. He held a tight grip on his wand and Connor was mildly worried that he might cause something to explode is his sibling didn’t calm down- that was always a danger when a wizard lost control of their emotions. Particularly Draco; he had such a fiery temper… literally.

“You’ll never guess what he’s bloody gone and done now!”

“Well it must be something truly pivotal for you to burst into a prefect’s dorm without knocking, brother or no.” Connor said disinterested, inspecting the invisible dirt under his fingernails so that Draco could be sure of just how unimpressed he was.

“Do you want to know or not?” Draco was getting frustrated. What were brothers for if not to vent out ones irritations? He listened to Connor’s…well, no, he didn’t. Connor just didn’t get wound up the way Draco did.

Connor sighed. He could tell Draco was really on the edge of a proper hissy fit this time; he better listen before something caught on fire. He put on a false air of interest (very ‘Malfoy’ ) and rolled his eyes. “Tell me brother dear, how is Potter?”

“Well I saw him in the Hog’s Head, but that’s not all.” Draco added hurriedly before Connor lost interest. “There were a bunch of people with him.”

“And?” Ooh, people in a pub, a dodgy pub, but even so it was hardly ground breaking.

“They were up to something, something illegal.” Draco lowered his voice for effect, despite the fact that they were alone in a room protected by numerous anti-eavesdropping charms.

Connor looked up at his brother. That was actually mildly interesting. “Really? You heard them?”

“Well no, but why else would he go into the Hog’s Head? The Three Broomsticks is much more his scene.” Draco even snarled a little. Perfect little Potter really irked him.

Connor snorted. “Draco, why were you in the Hog’s Head? Because they’ll serve anyone alcohol no matter their age, right? Well maybe Potter’s engaging in a little teenage rebellion.”

“With that mudblood Granger right there?”

“So she would approve if illegal meetings but not underage drinking? As if Saint Potter, king of the underdog, would ever dream of breaking the law. It won’t be anything interesting.” Connor said impatiently. “It’ll keep him in the limelight with his merry band for another couple of weeks though.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Draco muttered.

“Tut tut, little brother; if father heard you using that kind of language he’d wash your mouth out with soap.” Connor said as he turned back to his homework, satisfied that Draco’s mood was dealt with.

Draco flopped down in one of the chairs in the room. That meant he wasn’t leaving then, but Connor didn’t really mind. The Malfoy brothers always presented a united front to the world, if you take on one, prepare to take on both. Of course that didn’t extend to Draco’s petty rows with Potter, but if it were to ever become more than trivial arguments Connor would step in straight away.

That extended to their home life. Draco had lost count of the times the more level headed Connor had placed a calming hand on his shoulder when he was on the verge of snapping at their father or when Connor had interrupted him to prevent him saying something stupid; he had two more years experience at ‘playing the game’ and currently did it much better than Draco.

“I received an owl from Father today.” Draco said after a long silence.

Connor finished writing the final inch of his essay and started rolling it up. He was not particularly in a hurry- Draco would wait. “Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“Not really; the usual stuff. Keep our grades up, practice more in quidditch.” Draco looked up to make sure he could see his brother’s reaction, a gleam in his eye that Connor didn’t quite understand. ”Oh, and Snape’s daughter is coming to Hogwarts.”

Connor looked up quickly. “Dawn’s coming here?”

Draco smirked, expecting that sort of reaction. “We remember her then.”

He glared. “Don’t be smart Draco, it doesn’t suit you. Of course I remember her. I saw her every time Father brought us to Hogwarts on his governing business and Snape must have brought her to our house at least fifty times before he shipped her off to America.”

“Father said to remind you that the Snape name is well respected within certain circles.” Draco said with a casual air of smugness that made people want to hit him.

Connor scowled. “I’ve only just turned eighteen and he’s already trying to marry me off.”

“Are you interested?”

“Draco, I believe I already mentioned the still-only-eighteen argument. Besides, I haven’t seen her for what, five, six years?”

“Something like that.” Draco agreed.

“She may have changed completely.”

“She might have gotten ugly.” Draco added, earning him a look from his brother.

“Honestly Drake, is that all you can think about… But you have a point.” Connor conceded with a nod.

“It’s kind of romantic.” Draco said with a sneer. He obviously didn’t think so. “Childhood sweethearts, rekindled love, pure blooded family.”

“We were never childhood sweethearts.” Connor muttered. “There is no love to be rekindled and she’s half-blood.”

Draco waved off his comments. “Only on Snape’s side, it could be a lot worse. At least he’s not trying to set you up with Parkinson.”

Connor laughed. “Pug-face Parkinson? He must hate you.”

Draco’s glare intensified until it was at the level usually reserved for Potter. “She’s richer than Snape.”

“You’ll just have to keep telling yourself that when you’re making all the baby Malfoy’s that mother is so desperate to spoil.” Connor said with a laugh. His little brother could have the pick of many of the girls at Hogwarts, well, if it wasn’t for his personality. For his father to be suggesting Pansy Parkinson as a match would not be well accepted by the youngest in the family.

With one final glare, Draco swept out of the room leaving Connor alone with his thoughts. He and Dawn had been close once, before she’d started school in America and they’d just lost touch. Severus and Lucius, or more accurately Narcissa, had been friends when they were students at Hogwarts and that friendship had continued into their adult lives. This had lead too many ‘play dates’ between the Malfoy and Snape children, particularly when Dawn’s mother was out of the picture, and over the years a close friendship had blossomed. Until she’d left.

But now Dawn Snape was coming to Hogwarts. That would make things interesting. Very interesting indeed.


A short chapter to begin with, the next will be almost double this- look for it in a few days, it’s almost ready. Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far.
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