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Emerald Dream

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Summary: People in the Wizarding world are having weird dreams. One person pierces the dark shadow's armor and discovers the dreamworld. But it also looks like someone else already has . . .

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Multiple Pairings > ActionCassandraDayFR18610,9401205,52724 Apr 1020 Oct 10No

Emerald Dream

Disclaimer: Not mine! I terribly wish it was. Things would be different. But I don’t own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel. Boo hoo!

Warning: There’s violence and crossover. I don’t know what else to put in here. Oh! There’s slash, but no sexy scenes. Sorry. None of the stuff that would curse someone for the rest of their life. Except maybe in the fiction. There’s good Voldemort, Death Eaters and a manipulative Dumbledore. Well, it’s really an evil Dumbledore, but we’ll get to that later.

Emerald Dream Prologue

Harry sat up in bed, panting from the dream. It had been sticky and suffocating; like he couldn’t get out. All Harry saw was black and he kept feeling like he was sinking.

Harry’s had this dream for the past three days. With the dreams always came a feeling of loneliness. It felt like it wasn’t actually his dream, that somebody else was seeing it and feeling it. But if it was someone else’s dream, why was he dreaming it?

The fifteen year old boy got up and went down into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. He wouldn’t be able to sleep now that his thoughts were running haywire. Pouring himself a cup of tea, Harry sighed. After looking at the clock, he decided if he was going to stay up, he might as well do something useful. Everybody would be up soon and if not everybody, well than Mrs. Weasley would be up soon to make breakfast.

Harry looked into the cupboards of the kitchen and sighed. There was no food in the kitchen, as usual. He wondered how Mrs. Weasley did it every morning, gathering food from seemingly nowhere and then cooking it for all the people in the house. Plus visitors. As Harry thought of where he could come up with some food, he heard a pop.

He turned around to see what or who it was, to find Dobby looking down bashfully. The house elf looked up worriedly at The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry raised an eyebrow, seeing two house elf legs behind Dobby. Someone was hiding.

“What is it Dobby?” he asked. Dobby glanced at him again.

“Dobby has request from Master Harry Potter, sir.” At Harry’s nod, he continued, “Would Master Harry takes a house elf?” Harry startled at the question. He narrowed his eyes.

“Dobby, who is hiding behind you?” Harry asked icily. Dobby’s eyes widened and he took a step aside. Harry’s eyes widened. Standing there, with sagging ears, half-lidded red eyes, in a dirty dish towel was Winky. The female half-elf swayed slightly. Harry looked at Dobby, his eyes asking for an explanation.

“She is unhappy, by herself. She feels that she has failed in her duty to protect and take care of her former masters,” Dobby said cautiously and Harry understood. He understood the one thing Hermione never seemed to understand. Most house elves liked to work for people. Most house elves weren’t abused like Dobby had been. House elves weren’t really slaves either. They worked for shelter and food for their whole families. That way they didn’t have to worry about money. In fact, house elves seemed to trade everything.

Harry thought about what Dobby had requested. It was a serious question. It wasn’t illegal for Harry to take a house elf even though he was underage. He was just debating whether or not he could take care of Winky. Finally, he made a decision.

“Winky,” the house elf looked at Harry, “Straighten up.” And the house elf straightened her back, gave the dish towel she was wearing a disgusted look, and then took a potion. Her red eyes, that Harry could see had been puffy, went back to normal, and her ears retained their normal bounciness. When she was done, Winky looked at Harry, wondering what he was going to do.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to take care of you well enough,” as he said that, her ears drooped a little, “But, foolish Gryffindor that I am, I’m willing to take that chance. If you’ll have me, of course.” Winky’s eyes widened for a second before her whole being seemed to glow as she smiled. Harry grinned. Winky was doing better already. He looked at Dobby.

“So, how does this go, the whole house elf thing?” Harry asked. And Dobby started explaining.


Harry was grinning as he cooked breakfast. The radio was turned on, and he was moving his hips to the music as he flipped pancakes. Bacon was sizzling on a pan and fruit salad had already been made. Pitchers of milk and orange juice were on the table, which had been set.

This was the sight Mrs. Weasley had come to as she entered the kitchen, preparing to cook for hungry, growling stomachs. It shocked her to see the kitchen in such a clean state, with everything set up. And Harry was cooking, can’t forget that Harry was cooking. She was so shocked she couldn’t move. Harry saw her and his grin widened.

In fact, Mrs. Weasley was in such a shock that she stood there as other people started entering the kitchen. And then they too stood there in shock. The one thing that got them was the fact that Harry looked happy. When he had come to Grimmauld Place, Harry had seemed so depressed.

Now here he was, smiling as he made breakfast for over twenty people.

“Harry?” Mrs. Weasley asked as she came out of her stupor. Harry looked at her, eyes shining. He nodded towards the cupboards.

“Check the cupboards,” he said as he dropped more bacon on a plate. Mr. Weasley pushed his wife aside and checked the cupboards. He gasped. They were full of food. As people checked the other cupboards, Harry finished and put the rest of the food on the table. He sat down, waiting for other people to do the same thing.

“Harry, mate, how did you fill the kitchen with all this food?” Ron asked as he sat down next to his best friend. Harry snickered. He was the only one who was sitting at the table with Harry. Ron’s appetite never seemed to stop amusing him. He outright laughed as Ron started putting food on his plate.

“I’ll tell you if everybody sits down to eat.” Everybody hurried to sit. Harry looked at them as he loaded eggs, toast, pancakes and some bacon onto his plate. The others got the gist and started to load their plates with food. Harry worriedly glanced at Hermione. She wouldn’t like what he was about to say. Other people probably wouldn’t either.

Remus caught the look at Hermione. He was suspicious about what Harry was going to say. In fact, he had a feeling of what was going to be said. He and Sirius looked at each other and grinned slightly. Sirius looked at Harry. He mouthed, ‘Catch her while she’s eating.’ Harry grinned and nodded, happy that his godfather supported him.

Waiting for the right time he said, “I bound a house elf to me.” Hermione choked on her food, along with a few other people. Remus, Sirius, and the twins started laughing. They sobered though, with what Hermione said next.

“Harry! What the hell is wrong with you!” she shrieked. Harry winced, feeling sympathy for his ear. And then what she said registered in his brain. It was a bit of a shock when Hermione cursed. There was silence in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Harry looked at Hermione and winced again. Her eyes were narrowed, her breathing calm, her face serene and you couldn’t read her expression but her hands were on her hips and her hair was slowly standing up straight – by itself.

“Hermione,” Harry started, “I don’t regret it.” Hermione’s hair seemed to rise just a little more. Harry thought for a moment, before deciding something.

“Winky,” he called and Hermione’s eyes widened. Winky appeared with a pop. The house elf’s eyes widened at the audience, but she understood that she was needed as she saw Hermione. Winky’s own eyes narrowed. She pointed a finger at Hermione.

“Do not give Master Harry trouble. Master Harry takes care of Winky. Make Winky feel good and responsible. Master Harry Winky’s friend. Winky is not even allowed to call Master Harry Master Harry Potter or sir. Master Harry wants Winky to call him Harry, but Winky feels more comfortable calling Master Harry, Master Harry.” The house elf’s tone was sharp and proud, not just for herself, but for ‘Master Harry,’ too.

Harry looked at Hermione, whose mouth was hanging open. He snickered. “Flies, Hermione, flies,” he said and Hermione shut her mouth. She gave Harry a stern look. Harry sighed.

“Dobby brought her to me, asking me to have Winky as my house elf,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course, I don’t actually have a house. But I figured Winky could give Mrs. Weasley a hand. And there’s the fact that house elves can get food easily. Winky filled the cupboards with food, helped me set the tables and even made the fruit salad. She cleaned all the dishes and put them away.” Hermione interrupted him before he could continue.

“Harry, people treat them like slaves,” Harry interrupted her before she could continue.

“Contrary to what you think Hermione, no, most of the time they don’t. House elves don’t have currency, they barter. So by cleaning, cooking, etcetera, they get food, shelter, and etcetera. It’s not slavery, it’s they’re lifestyle. And in house elf society it’s important for them to have responsibility, to take care of and protect their charges correctly. And more often than not, their ‘charges’ are their friends or related to them in some way.” Harry looked at Hermione more sharply. “And I am insulted that you think I would treat Winky as a slave.” Hermione flinched. “First and foremost, Winky is a friend. A very supportive and understanding friend.” Hermione looked at the table. “Besides, I think Winky’s humor is needed to banish the dark ghouls hidden in the corners of this place,” Harry said cracking a smile. Hermione looked at him and smiled a bit herself. And then she laughed.

“Banish dark ghouls indeed,” she said looking at him. “You’re a lot happier.” Harry grinned, though his mood darkened. He stared at the table.

“She talks to me, likes to tell me what’s going on.” Everybody at the table looked down as Harry cast his eyes over them. His grin widened. “I learned some pretty cool things about this place. Like how to get that bloody painting down.” As they heard that, many people’s eyes widened in wonderment. Several jumped as another voice joined in.

“Tell me Harry, how do you get Walburga Black down from the wall?”



Xander sighed. Spike and Angel were arguing. Again. Now, why did he move to LA? 'That’s right,' Xander recalled, 'I’m in love with the two of them.' Right now the reason seemed absurd.

“Why can’t we go to see him?” That was Spike’s voice. Xander looked over at the owl that had arrived. Earlier it had been holding a letter from a certain Draco Malfoy. Who was apparently Spike’s great, great nephew, or something like that. It was too confusing. The kid wrote saying he needed help out of a certain situation.

Dear Will,
I’m writing because I’m in trouble and you said if I ever needed help to call. I hear you’re neutral nowadays. How does it feel? Surely, it must be better than me. You remember my father? He’s not so good either. We both feel like something bad is going to happen and we don’t know what. It’s driving us crazy. Must be a bit of that seer blood we got some time ago.
Have you had the dream yet? It would be dark and you’re drowning. It’s scary. Too scary. Doesn’t make me feel good. Almost sick. I’ve been having the same dream for three months now. So long for the same dream it almost hurts. Have you had it yet?
Anyway, I’d like you to come visit the manor. Maybe you can help. It would be nice to feel like I’m not drowning. Come by, would you? It hurts.


It seemed to Xander that this Draco kid needed help, badly. Besides, Spike knew Draco. And Draco called Spike ‘Will.’ Only certain people were allowed to call Spike that. And as far as he knew, there was Angel, Xander, and now this Draco kid. Spike must really love him.

“We have to go,” Xander whispered. Both vampires stopped arguing to look at Xander.

“Angel, he needs help. And Spike’s met him before. And he’s in pain. And he’s drowning. And he . . .”

And he called Spike ‘Will.’

Lost, Angel nodded. This was important, so important, it appeared, not only to Spike, but to Xander as well. God, the kid was such a white knight.

But it wasn’t just the letter. It was the tug of the blood call, too. Spike felt it, and Angel felt it. Since Xander was their consort it called him. It was calling them so badly. But Angel needed to take care of Connor. As if reading his mind the vampire’s son replied.

“I’ll go with you.” Shocked, everybody looked at him. Connor just shook his head. “Dad needs to go.” Xander smiled, Spike grinned and Angel gave in.

Looks like they were going to London.


I didn't change much, but I hope it tells people when I change/edit chapters. I'm in the process of rewriting this story because I'm not happy with the way I wrote it and the way it's going. I'm also in the process of writing the story of how Angel, Xander, and Spike meet, and another story, which is a massive multi-crossover between Buffy, Angel, Anita Blake, Harry Potter, the Pacifier, Supernatural, and a bunch of other fandoms. It is very exhausting.

Hopefully, after I edit the story, I'll be able to get back on track with updating. When I first started, I wanted to update at least every two weeks, and I think I'll be able to do that after I get everything situated.

I will also be able to, as Cmiller was waiting for, write longer chapters. I was never happy with the length of my chapters. The chapters I edit will probably be longer as well afterwards.

I have a few questions, and I would be forever grateful if somebody took the time to answer them.

1. How do you put pictures up? I'm a little confused by that. I want to kind of create a character description pages for another fic I'm going to put up. It's going to be massive, as I've said earlier, and have a lot of characters from not only the fandoms above, but Torchwood, Glee (I'm only borrowing characters), Twilight, King Arthur, and the Phantom of the Opera. Oh! I just read the little description thingy and it said “Images must be hosted on another site.” All I can say is Me Con-fyu-sed. Somebody please clarify?

2. Anybody got an idea how do get Mrs. Black down from the wall? I certainly don't. I had all my notes on a computer that got a virus on it. It's been a few trying weeks (maybe months) getting everything from my head down on paper (my hand hurts from writing) and in the new computer (which is AWESOME!).

If anybody has questions, please ask.

Also, if something looks weird, would somebody tell me?

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