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Mirrored Eyes

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This story is No. 1 in the series "Mirror, Mirror". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: Her eyes told a story he knew well. A story of deep pain and sorrow. A story of loneliness beyond telling. They were eyes that he faced in the mirror every day, and they were eyes that someone such as she had no business bearing.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Buffy-CenteredKoohiiCafeFR71731261,20523 May 1023 May 10No
Title: Mirrored Eyes
Author: Koohii Cafe
Rating: FR7
Fandom: BtVS/HP
Disclaimer: *checks* Nope, not mine!
Summary: Her eyes told a story he knew well. A story of deep pain and sorrow, of brokenness and hurt that could never be healed. A story of loneliness beyond telling. They were eyes that he faced in the mirror every day, and they were eyes that someone such as she had no business bearing.
Author's notes: Timelines are horribly, horribly wonky and do not mesh with canon at all. Sorry. >.< Set after season 2 of BtVS and AU for HP: PS. A prequel to my story 'Mirror, Mirror.'



He found her in a dingy diner in the slums of Los Angeles, serving greasy burgers and bitter coffee to ungrateful men who would never appreciate exactly what they had had in their midst, and he had no intention of leaving her there. Part of it, of course, was due to the dire request that had come to his ears from an old and favored friend, but another part of it was wholly due to the simple fact that he could not stand to see her this way. It was nothing personal, for until today, he had never set eyes upon the girl in his life. There was nothing familiar about her soft and rounded cheeks, her long blonde hair, her small frame... But her eyes-

Her eyes told a story he knew well. A story of deep pain and sorrow, of brokenness and hurt that could never be healed. A story of loneliness beyond telling. They were eyes that he faced in the mirror every day, and they were eyes that someone such as she had no business bearing.

He knew who she was, what she did. All of his world knew of her, and of the line she represented, the heritage of young women, children, who stood between the innocent and the dark, who guarded the light from evils it would never be able to acknowledge, and who could never be acknowledged themselves. Not by the people they protected, she protected. She was a word he was loathe to admit existed; she was a hero. She was a person he had no business being near, watching, much less what he had planned. There were unspoken rules regarding her.

He would ignore them all.

So he watched her, in that place where he had found her, and he waited in a corner booth until the day was over, sipping on a cup of bitter brew that was not to his taste at all. She must have noticed him, felt him, but if she did, she gave no indication of it. She served him politely, as little as she could get away with, and then when her shift was over, she left.

He followed her.

She led him into a dark alley that he knew for certain led no where near her home, if that tiny and disgusting apartment she lived in could be called a home. He walked right into her trap, knowingly, as she faced him with a small piece of wood in her hands. Then she moved, faster that his eye could follow, without a word. There were none of the taunts he knew she was famous for, no quips, no cracks, only the kill. But he was prepared for it, and a single word from his lips left her falling back, eyes sliding closed as consciousness fled her. He caught her easily, and without hesitation, he took her away from that place, to his own home halfway across the world, and set her up in his own bed. Then he took up a watch once more.

Later, he would deal with the things that needed to be done. Ripper would be first, to let him know that the girl was safe, with him, and that he need not worry. Then, the headmaster, to arrange what would need to be arranged for the coming year. And then, he would wake her, and inform her of the direction her life was about to take. But for now, he would watch her, and memorize the way she looked as she slept, young and innocent. Without that haunted look in her eyes that he knew so well.



Author’s notes PS: Two points if you can guess who 'he' is, though I'm sure it's fairly obvious. ^__^; I have no idea if there will be any more to this, but I'm hoping so. It all depends on if the muses cooperate with me. I'm kind of no good at writing big long stories, or anything but one shots really, but I'll try!

The End?

You have reached the end of "Mirrored Eyes" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 23 May 10.

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