Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Harry Potter. They each belong to their creators Joss Whedon and J.K Rowling
Time line: The time line is a little wonky and might not always work out so bare with me. It’s supposed to take place two years after chosen and the fourth book of Harry Potter. Oh, and Buffy was in Sunnydale for nine years not seven, making her about twenty-six years old.
Spoilers: Since this is after the seventh season the whole series is fair game but doubt there’ll be any Angel spoilers, since I don’t watch the series that often.
Buffy sighed, looking out at the beautiful city of Rome. She sat curled up on a window seat of her spacious apartment with a warm blanket wrapped around her and watched the rain pour down on the people below. The Slayer still couldn’t believe how much her life had changed in little over two years.
The May before last she’d been in the biggest fight of her life and to be perfectly honest she hadn’t expected to come out of it alive. But here she was. A thousand miles away from what had been her home for over seven years, the place she’d thought she’d never be able to escape. Funny how that was all she seemed to do nowadays.
While the others were busy setting up the new Watchers Council, or Slayers Council as it was now called, she was still hiding out in Rome. Buffy knew she should go back and help out but she couldn’t help but wonder how much she was actually needed. There were over a thousand Slayers now, scattered all over the world. Would there still be a place for her if she went back?
The question was the foundation to her fear. She was so used to being the only one, to have to carry the burden all by her self that she didn’t know how to share. Buffy knew it sounded strange. Ever since being called as the Slayer she’d wished she wouldn’t have to face it alone but now that her wish had been granted she didn’t know how to deal with it.
At first it had been nice to get away. She desperately needed a vacation after all that had happened, after seven years of non-stop slayage. But after two years it turned out it wasn’t all that it had been cracked up to be. Buffy was craving a good fight.
She never thought it would happen. After all her years of dreaming that she would no longer have bear the burden of being the Slayer alone, she’d never have thought the she would miss it. But she did.
She needed to get back into the swing of things but somehow she knew that the Slayers Council wouldn’t be the place for her, but thankfully in her line of work there was always someone in need of a Slayer’s assistance.
Buffy had first been approached by the cause a couple of months ago but at the time she’d been in no way ready, and he’d said that for the time being there wasn’t any rush. Now, normally Buffy was never one to turn down someone in need but to be contacted by a world she’d thought she left behind fifteen years ago was a little unsettling.
She never thought she’d hear from that part of her life again, not after everything. But there he was, looking just like she remembered him with his twinkling blue eyes hiding behind his half moon glasses and long robe. There was no denying that the man who’d visited her was the one and only Albus Dumbledore.
Sighing, Buffy knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. She was never one to hide from her fears, no matter how painful they might be. Dumbledore needed her help and she was not going to deny him because it brought back painful memories for her.
Carefully she removed the odd looking amulet from were it had been resting in her jeans pocket and gently she began to stroke it, muttering the words carved into it. She wasn’t quite clear how it was supposed to work but she trusted Dumbledore. If he said it would call him than she expected him within the hour. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait that long.
She felt the air around her being to stir, signaling that someone powerful was close by. Buffy didn’t even blink when the elderly wizard appeared out of thin air and gave her a polite smile. After all, for the first eleven years of her life it had been an ordinary occurrence for her.
“Elizabeth,” Dumbledore greeted her.
“Buffy,“ she corrected him, frowning at the use of her given name. She hadn’t been called that since she left the wizarding world and now would be no exception.
“Of course,” he told her, nodding slightly but it didn’t seem to faze him. Although as she thought back to the past, nothing ever seemed to.
“We should probably go sit down for this,” she said, gesturing to the leather couch up against the wall in the living room and got up from her place by the window to lead the way.
When they were both comfortably seated in the Slayer’s large living room, Dumbledore on the couch and Buffy on a comfortable armchair next to him the wizard began to speak. “I trust you called me here because you’ve made your decision?”
The blonde nodded. “Yes. I’ll go with you, I’m never one to pass up a good fight but I have a few conditions,” she paused, suddenly unsure if it was the right thing to do. “The first one being that I don’t want anyone knowing my true identity. And the second…I need your word that you never make me work with him, be near him or even speak to him.”
Dumbledore sighed deeply; there was no doubt as to whom she was referring to. “You still blame him for their deaths,” it wasn’t a question.
“I need your word,” she pressed on, not ready to get into another argument with her former headmaster about him again.
“And you have it, Elizabeth but surely you must see…”
“Then that’s all I need,” she cut him off.
He nodded, watching her with sorrowful eyes. “You’ll come?”
“Yes,” her voice sounded cold but firm. She didn’t want Dumbledore knowing how much the thought of seeing him again upset her. She’d find a way to cope, she had to.
“You do realize there’s a chance someone might recognize you? You’ll be expected to go the meetings, your advice will no doubt be invaluable, and you’ll need to work with a team. You won’t only be up against demons so you’ll need magical protection.”
“I know,” Buffy told him. “If they find out I’ll deal with it but that will be then. There’s no need to hurry up the process.”
“As you wish,” Dumbledore relented, years of experience had thought him that there was no winning when she was like this. He could only hope that she’d see reason when she arrived.
What happened to her brother and his wife was no one’s fault except Voldemort. Dumbledore knew that she was only looking for a scapegoat to ease her own pain but putting the blame on someone who’d suffered quite horribly after the incident didn’t seem right. Although the person in question would quite happily agree with her. Sirius blamed himself as much as Elizabeth blamed him