***For Liz’s birthday. Sorry for the delay.***
Title: Shadows Whisper Back
Email: firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com
Rating: Overall R
Content: Warning, there is some mention of rape in this fic.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Joss Whedon gets all
the credit for BTVS.
Category: BTVS/HP crossover
Pairing: Willow/Harry (cause I want to try it).
Spoilers: Season Two for BTVS and Goblet of Fire for HP.
Summary: Willow's mother has been keeping things from her . . .
Notes: AU, for sure. In BTVS, every up to the end of Season Two
1) No Oz/Willow relationship in this fic.
2) Willow and her friends are fifteen.
Notes2: Okay, someone pointed out that with the changed ages, then
the Angel and Buffy relationship would be kind of gross (her sleeping
with him when she was like 14 or 15?). So, I'm going to change
that. Angel did not lose his soul that way, he lost it another way.
We'll say through something about the Judge and Druscilla. I'm
working on it currently, but Buffy and Angel did not have sex.
Harry had been about ready to doze off when Hermione awoke with a gasp and shot upright in her cot. Her sudden actions pushed back all thoughts of sleep, and even managed to jostle Ron from his deep slumber. With a snort and a few incoherent phrases (Harry was betting they were curses), Ron shook himself awake and directed his eyes immediately towards Hermione.
“I told Professor Snape to sod off!”
Harry knew that the situation was serious. There were security implications, and a whole lot of worry about why this happened and who would gain from it. But even then, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his mouth when Hermione blurted out that particular sentence. Only Hermione could have gone through something like this and still be most horrified about her conduct towards faculty.
“Yeah, that was the only bright spot of the day,” Ron muttered grumpily. Either he was irritated by the thought of what had happened or just annoyed that Hermione had managed to wake him up. “You all right, ‘Mione?”
Hermione blinked and looked at Ron as if she just noticed his presence. Harry had to bite down on his own tongue to keep from laughing this time as Hermione’s face went from pale to a very vivid red in a matter of seconds. “Oh, hello Ron.”
Ron, now thoroughly awake, seemed to notice Hermione’s embarrassment and subsequently went scarlet himself. “Hello Hermione.”
“I’m here too,” Harry pointed out, his tone decidedly devilish before the seriousness of the situation tempered his glee. “Really, how are you Hermione? Should we get Madame Pompfrey?”
She only shook her head, the red blush still staining her cheeks. Harry watched as Hermione glanced about the room in an attempt to avoid looking at either of them. It was then that her eyes fell on the other two occupied infirmary cots. “Lavender and Parvati? Why are they . . . Is Willow here too?”
“She was,” Ron answered, his old anger resurfacing quickly. “She’s with her mum now.”
“Her mum?” Hermione looked at them this time. “Why is her mum here?”
“Well . . .” Harry trailed off and pondered his predicament. How do you tell your best friend that someone drugged her with the Wizard equivalent of the date-rape drug?
“You were drugged.” Apparently as straightforward as possible.
“Drugged? But how . . . The candy!” Hermione exclaimed with a snap of her fingers. “Harry, where is Professor McGonagall? She needs to know about-”
“She knows about the candy,” Harry assured her. “Willow woke up a few hours before you. She told Professor Snape about it, and they’re still looking into it. Had to really look for something to study, considering how quickly you four ate the things.”
Hermione made a face. “We thought they were from Xander,” she said in defense. “Willow even thought they were from Xander. But if they weren’t from him, who could have sent them?”
“You really have to ask that?” Ron asked incredulously.
“I know who immediately comes to mind, but there’s something a bit off about it,” Hermione replied firmly. “If it is indeed the candies, which I assume we all think it is, whoever sent them must have known enough about Willow to know whose name to sign that she wouldn’t even think twice about the gift. And the writing . . . the writing would have to be very similar; otherwise Willow would have recognized it for a fake. How could someone come across such things?”
Harry felt his stomach drop. “You think she’s being spied on, don’t you?”
“Or worse, they are,” Hermione murmured. “It would be very disastrous if they were. Her best friend is the Slayer. Wizards are not meant to mix with Slayers. There were agreements-”
“And I’m sure You-Know-Who holds those in the highest regard,” Ron snorted. “What I don’t understand is if he is the one behind it, and he is watching them, why not just kill ‘em? He doesn’t much like Muggles, from what I remember, so why watch them when he can just kill ‘em? I’m pretty sure that him killing her friends would make Willow just as upset as this stunt.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to upset Willow,” Hermione suggested.
“Then who’s he looking to torture?” Ron demanded.
Harry blinked. “Her mum. Willow’s mum, she’s the one who reacted the worst. It’s what-”
He didn’t finish, and he didn’t really need to. Hermione’s eyes widened and then her entire face fell. Ron went pale and swallowed audibly a few times. “Have I mentioned lately that I hate Him?”
Hermione shot Ron one of her looks. “Ron, please.”
She just shook her head and then started pushing her covers further down her legs. Harry watched as she swung her legs around to the side of the cot. “Um, Hermione? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Obviously I’m getting out of bed,” Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes. “I really want to see Professor Dumbledore and get an update on the situation-”
“Hermione, you’re not supposed to-”
“Don’t worry, Ron,” Hermione cut him off. “I’m fine really.”
And then she hopped onto her feet. And ended up sprawled on the floor. Harry and Ron both rushed to her side and helped her to her feet. Harry offered her a sympathetic smile. “Madame Pompfrey said the numbness should wear off after a few hours.”
Hermione gave a disgusted snort but said nothing. Ron chuckled as both boys pulled her blankets up to her chin again. “We tried to tell you . . .”
“Oh, shut up Ron.”
Of all the things in the world that Xander Harris thought he would get a chance to do, talking to his best friend’s father through a fireplace was not one of them. It was cool and all, but he couldn’t help but feel that this would have been easier if done over a telephone. Or even with one of those birdies that these Wizards liked to use. Seeing Ira Rosenburg in the ashes of Giles’s fireplace was just too creepy for this boy.
Buffy didn’t like it either.
“I just don’t appreciate all the secrets,” Buffy hissed at him and Cordelia once Giles had taken over having the fireplace conversation. “I mean, Mr. Rosenburg’s sticking his head into some sort of fire thing to talk to us like this, right? So that means on top of the entirely separate and complex magic world they hid from us, they also forgot to mention that they’re slightly flame retardant.”
Cordelia only rolled her eyes, having taken the fireplace thing fairly well. Another sign of how well adjusted she was becoming to the all the weird around them. “I’m more interested in finding out why they’re asking us about our mail. What’s the deal with this chocolates thing?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Xander muttered. “Someone sent Willow something and they’re going bananas to find out who? Doesn’t exactly reassure me that Willow is as fine as her dad is telling us she is.”
Buffy gave a tiny growl and shot another dark look towards her Watcher. “We should be there with her,” the blonde said firmly. “Or she should be here with us. It’s not right to dump something like this on someone and just whisk them away from all their support systems. She needs us right now, not these stupid Wizard people who are too scared of her to treat her like a human being. Can’t believe they’re judging her because of what happened. She can’t help being what she is, and there should be some sort of understanding there.”
“Sounds like someone’s leaning on her own experience,” Cordelia needled her. “You and Willow finally have something very important in common, and she isn’t even here for you guys to get all sappy about it.”
“It’s more of empathy than anything else,” Buffy replied with a shrug. “I can’t help it if I sort of know how she feels. I just think that it sucks that she’s away from all of us while this incredibly big thing happened to her. If I hadn’t of run off the way I did . . .”
“It’s not your fault, Buffy,” Xander told her gently. “There wasn’t much any of us could do. It all happened so damn fast, and Willow’s parents were so stubborn about it-I don’t think that having the Slayer here would have changed their minds that much.”
“Also, it probably wouldn’t help Willow in the long run if all those Wizard guys saw the Slayer trying to forcibly intervene,” Cordelia added quickly. “They’re scared enough of her as is.”
Buffy gave the brunette an incredulous look. “When did you become the voice of reason?”
“Well, since Willow’s not here and Giles spent most of his time chasing after you, someone had to keep a level head around here,” Cordelia retorted. “And it certainly wasn’t going to be Xander. He was being an amazing amount of unhelpful and slightly psychotic.”
The boy in question blushed and shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? The world as I had known it was crumbling down all around me. Figured it was a good enough time for a freak-out as any.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it, later,” Buffy murmured, jumping off Giles’s couch when she saw her Watcher get to his feet. A quick glance around him showed that Mr. Rosenburg was no longer present, which meant the interrogation could begin. “What’s going on over there?”
“Damned if they’ll tell me anything,” Giles replied shortly, his tone telling his students that he wasn’t in the mood to elaborate. “But from what I can gather, they seemed to have had a breach in security.”
“The chocolate thing, right?” Buffy narrowed her eyes at her Watcher. “Did someone try to poison Willow, or something?”
“Or something,” Giles replied evenly, pushing his Slayer back when she made to move closer to the fireplace. “Not yet Buffy, we’re not done here. Something very bad happened over there, and now they want to make sure things on this end are safe.”
“And that means what exactly?” Cordelia demanded from her spot on Xander’s lap.
A green flame suddenly erupted from the fireplace, dying as quickly as it appeared. Buffy glared at the fireplace, before turning her glare onto her Watcher. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re getting a visitor,” was all Giles could say before the fireplace blazed up once again, green flames shooting up the chimney in a sudden flash. However, this time the flames did not just disappear as they had before. This time, something came through the fireplace, stumbling out of it at breakneck speed, causing both Cordelia and Xander to shout and fall off the couch in their surprise. Buffy immediately went on the defensive, hand going for a stake when Giles placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. “There’s no need for that. Yet.”
The flames in the fireplace had died out, leaving no evidence that they had even been there. Only the something remained. It moved and rose, revealing itself to be a person. A fairly young looking person with bright pink hair and a wide smile on her face. “Wotcher everyone. Auror Tonks at your assistance.”
Buffy was the first to find her voice. “Aura-what?”
“We must move. They’ve contacted the Muggles. I have no doubt that someone is already on their way.”
“Master predicted this would happen, though perhaps it is happening quicker than he wanted.”
“It doesn’t matter, we have our orders. There is Ministry presence here, and so we must move on. We don’t want to give Fudge any sort of proof to run with here. It is to be done with subtlety.”
“Meaning we must not cast the Dark Mark here. It would be too much for even the Ministry to ignore.”
“Fine, but what are we to do now? Master made it clear that we were not to harm those Muggles, yet. So we must find a suitable replacement.”
“Something that would smart just as badly as if it were one of them.”
“Perhaps the Slayer’s mother-”
“No! We do not want to start a blood feud with the Slayer. If we go for her mother, there is no telling what consequences would arise. It must be someone significant, but not significant enough to draw the Slayer away from her post. Our Master does not wish to deal with her kind, not yet.”
“Perhaps one of their peers, then?”
“Perhaps. They do have a rather short life expectancy here. But which one?”
“Let it be the first one we recognize. We haven’t the time to go searching through the candidates. Like you said, Dumbledore has most likely sent someone already. We must make our
“Very well, the first one we see.”