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Neither a borrower nor a lender be

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This story is No. 3 in the series "One beautiful morning". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Oxford is a place of quiet scholarship and learning. Oh, and Dawn Summers lives there too...

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Dawn-Centered > Pairing: Other(Current Donor)vidiconFR1515,5533275,30229 Oct 1229 Oct 12Yes
 Author’s Note:

Thanks very much to my Beta’s, Letomo and Cordyfan.

The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that.

Speech: “Who’s on first.”

Thought: *What’s on second.*

Vision: #I-don’t-know’s on third.#

I do not own Buffy the vampireslayer nor do I own Harry Potter. They are owned by Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be

New College, Oxford

Dawn Summers slammed the door of her room behind her and stormed down the hall to the stairs and down them. The ancient wood groaned under the unaccustomed treatment, having become used to more reverential handling the past hundred years or so.

Dawn thundered down the stairs, through the access hall and out into the Quadrangle. She took a deep breath, shaking her head, trying to dislodge her anger before she left the College. Several of the other students had already fled her as she passed and she didn’t feel like antagonizing any more of them, or Dons or other teachers. She gazed through the gate and then sighed, her shoulders slumping.

Some days ago she’d called Giles, to ask about a position with the Council over the Summer Hols. Giles had hemmed and hawed, until she’d travelled to London to speak with him in person when he’d finally, painfully, admitted that Buffy had all but ordered him to keep Dawn, Willow and Xander out of Council matters as much as possible.

Buffy’s trust in all of them was still shaky and she didn’t think any of them were truly capable of holding positions of responsibility in the New Council. She felt that they would put their own needs and views before those of the Slayers. Giles she barely tolerated, and then only because of his knowledge would she allow him to hold the position he did.

Giles had been quiet then, looking into the far distance, a sad and old expression on his face, polishing his glasses. He’d put them back on and given Dawn a look that had torn her heart. “She barely speaks to me as it is, Dawn. If I go against her wishes on this, she will mobilize the Slayers against me.”

Dawn had left at that point, too furious to think, too hurt to speak, too guilty to place blame. Dawn had known the minute that Buffy closed the door behind her in Sunnydale that ill-fated night when they’d thrown her out of her own house, that it would haunt her forever. Apparently it had done even more damage to their relationship than she had thought. In Rome Buffy had told Dawn she was forgiven. But apparently her sister had become much, much better at dissembling. Dawn had believed her and had been elated. But despite all of her apologies, despite her heartfelt remorse, Buffy had hidden her true feelings. Dawn had never guessed at them until she forced the confession out of Giles.

Buffy distrusted her, and apparently she felt the same way about Willow and Xander. It had taken all of Giles’ powers of persuasiveness to get Buffy to allow them to take up positions commensurate with their powers and skills. But things were never going to be the same again. The trust and friendship that had existed between them was gone forever.

And then, three days ago, in the apartment she shared with Buffy in London when she wasn’t at Uni, she’d heard Buffy and Xander fight on the phone. The words fray adjacent had been used and after a lot of shouting, Buffy had just stood there, phone in hand, glaring at it. It might not have been the most diplomatic or wisest thing for Dawn to say that she wasn’t going to be made fray adjacent either.

Dawn wasn’t completely sure what they’d said, or shouted, at each other but it had ended with Buffy threatening to stop paying for her education if Dawn didn’t listen.  It had hurt, man had it hurt. Dawn was pretty sure that she felt just about the way Buffy had when Mom had told her to explain or never come back. Dawn had stormed out, and hadn’t wanted to talk with Buffy since. She just hoped that she still had enough money to get educated. Or maybe Giles would pay, if Buffy no longer would.

Dawn sighed. She was sad, frightened, and furious and felt utterly alone. She was cut off from the only family she knew by her own actions and Buffy’s as well. And shed managed to destroy the precarious relationship she’d reconstructed with her sister. When Sunnydale had first fallen she'd gone with Buffy, trying to repair their relationship. She'd limited her contact with Xander and Willow, given them space. Xander had been mourning Anya and had headed off to Africa. All she heard from and about him was through official Council channels, as if he couldn’t forgive Buffy and her for living when Anya was dead.

And Dawn, hoping to show her maturity, hoping he would see her as more than Buffy's little sister, had given him space, and realised that the space was distance. He might now consider her an adult, but not one he wanted to date or even particularly wanted to know.

Willow had left for South America with Kennedy. And then had split up with Kennedy, a fact Dawn and Buffy had learned through official channels again. And Buffy had seemed cool with that.

Dawn wasn't sure what she could do to make things better. If she contacted Willow and Xander, she’d risk antagonising Buffy even more. And Xander had been rather cool towards her before he'd left for Africa, and from the things she read and heard, had gotten cold, hard, and rather frightening. Not at all like the loveable young man she had loved, or at least had a major crush on. And according to Giles’ secretary, who had overheard a number of heated phone conversations between Giles and the witch, Willow had gone on a crawl of bars and picked up a new girl every night ever since she’d ended things with Kennedy, even resorting to drugs, possibly even bingeing on magic again. She certainly hadn't answered Dawn's request for training, not even when she settled in Cornwall.

Dawn pulled her backpack higher onto her shoulder and bit her lip as she headed for the Radcliffe Camera. *If it wasn’t for Giles’ encouragement, I’d probably quit studying and head back to the States.*

She straightened her shoulders and entered the old library, heading for the part of the stacks that allowed entry into the ‘Secret Reading Room’. Most people couldn’t see it, the narrow door that opened onto the steep staircase that led down passed the basement level and ended in what to those in the know knew to be one of the finest collections of mystical volumes in the world.

Very few could get past the minor wards and spells that protected it. The Watchers’ Council, Old Style, had used the Library to winnow out those who had the ability to sense or see through magic sufficiently to qualify as Watchers. Many young men, and later women, had been recruited after finding their way into the vaulted chambers of the Secret Reading Room.

Most of the time it was empty, except for a few researchers from the New Council. Sometimes a clueless student wandered in and was soon clued in. One or two elderly scholars, too withdrawn from the ‘real world’ to continue to ignore the wards, occasionally sat there, reading books they brought or took from the groaning shelves. Dawn knew all the regulars by sight. Many of them knew who she was, the younger sister of the Senior Slayer and a scholar in her own right.

Today the room was empty, except for someone she didn’t know. He was pale and freckled. He had messy red hair that looked as if he didn’t spend enough time in the mornings to even haul a comb through. It was quite greasy too. Dawn thought he was probably a few years older than Buffy. He wore a pair of dark slacks and worn brown boots and a blue sweater with a bronze P on it. *Or Jumper* Dawn corrected her own first impression, wryly recalling the different meaning of the word in British English from what she was used to. She still hadn’t quite lived down the ‘wearing a jumper and sandals’ remark.

The man looked up. He had bags under his eyes and looked tired and drawn, as if he had neither slept nor eaten enough for a week. There were numerous books scattered on the reading table before him. Dawn took a quick muster and realised all of them had to do with charms and spells to hide and obfuscate.

*Must be a visiting student. Probably found the room and wondered why no-one else could see it and then found out for himself…* 

Dawn looked around, trying to locate someone to induct the man into the reality of magic and the supernatural. For now only Cambridge and Edinburgh had locations like the Secret Library, the other Universities being considered too ‘lower class’ by the Old Council to supply good Watcher material. And though similar spaces were being set up in newer Universities, it was taking time. Both the books and the magic needed to do it were scarce.     

She saw none of the other, older regulars. Even with the reading that the man had obviously done it might still be difficult to convince him. Dawn knew that most people took ‘The Speech’ better from someone older and less, well, young and gorgeous. She sighed and approached the table.

The man, who had looked up for a few seconds when she entered and immediately continued his reading, looked up again, annoyance clear on his face. “Yes? May I help you?”

He had a British accent, quite prissy and precise. “Hi, I’m Dawn Summers. You’re probably wondering what’s going on.”

The man blinked. “Going on?”

Dawn gestured. “With the room. No one seeing it.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. “There are some fairly basic Muggle-Repelling wards, a few Notice-me-not charms and some Charms work to insulate sounds from entering or leaving. Is there anything else I should know about?”

Dawn gaped and then sat down. “Err, muggle?”

“People who can’t do magic,” the man said, returning to his books.

“You call them muggle? Isn’t that rather insulting?” Dawn asked, rather annoyed at being ignored.

The man looked up again, exasperated. “I don’t know, I never asked. Look, I need to find something and things are rather hairy, so if you wouldn’t mind?” He looked pointedly at her, as if expecting her to leave.

Dawn crossed her arms. “Not until you tell me how you know about magic and about this place. And a name would be nice too.”

The man gritted his teeth. “My name is Percy Weasley. I’ve known about magic my whole life. I’m a wizard. We know about this place but seldom come here because some sort of Muggle Secret Society uses it for meetings, they apparently have developed an immunity to Muggle-repelling charms. And I’m looking for ways how people can be hidden from others, and how to break those spells, because my – Mu- mother, sister-in-law and my niece have been kidnapped, my eldest brother is an emotional wreck and two of my brothers and my Dad are in hospital. Does that answer your questions? Can I get back to my work now?”

Dawn nodded calmly. “Yes, thanks. Do you have Abuskunad of Sumer’s ‘On Finding the Lost’ there? It would be useful. And the transcriptions of Hammurabi’s Laws of Controlling Magic contain some useful hints at getting past older types of wards.”

Percy blinked. “Abuskunad wrote in Sumerian, and the Laws are in Akkadian, I can’t read those.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky I can? But if you don’t trust me, I think there’s a bad translation into Latin in the Wren Library in Cambridge and a better one into Greek in Trinity in Dublin. You can always go there,” Dawn replied as she went over to the restricted shelves where the codices she needed resided. 

“Look out! You’ll get…” Percy began, only to stop when Dawn passed through the wards without setting them off.

Dawn smirked at him over her shoulder. “You might say I’m a member of your ‘secret society’. You might also say that most people will be rather offended at being called Muggle, so you might want to work on that.”

Percy nodded, stunned. Dawn picked up ‘On Finding the Lost’ and put it on a reading block, then went back for the Hammurabi, treating both books with the care and reverence their millennium old age demanded.

She opened them and started to read.


Dawn’s hair was a mess and she felt tired to her very core. She rested her forehead on the table and tried to gather her wits. She and Percy had been working steadily for almost fourteen hours. She was exhausted and wondered how Percy managed to hold up so well as he did. He must be running on fumes.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. Percy was holding a cup of coffee, divine smelling coffee, and a scone.

“Where did you get those?” Dawn asked confused and annoyed. “Food and drinks aren’t allowed in here!”

Percy shrugged. “I asked a House Elf to bring some food for you. It seemed quite eager to help.”

Dawn moved to an empty table and accepted the coffee and the pastry and started to eat and drink. “How long have you been researching?”

“Four days,” Percy answered, wearily. “Even Pepper-up potions are losing their effectiveness.”

Dawn blinked. “Pepper-up potions?”

Percy nodded and withdrew a stick from an elongated pocket on his thigh, gestured and spoke. “Accio Pepper-up potion!” A bottle flew from his coat hanging on the other side of the room and into his hand. 

Dawn’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “A wand? You have a wand?”

Percy looked quite surprised. “Don’t you?”

Dawn shook her head, looking at the potion and the wand and then at Percy. “With a focus like that, it means that different types of spells become an option. It also means that the obfuscation might be quite powerful.”

Percy looked thoughtful. “So you don't use a wand? But you do have magic?”

Dawn nodded and sipped her coffee. “Yup. But I wish I'd known about this before. It does limit the avenues of research. So, what does that stuff do?” She gestured at the potion with her scone.

Percy handed her the potion. “Try it. If you’re not magical enough it won’t have any effect.”

Dawn hesitated, then shrugged and downed the potion. She felt heat building up and then steam came pouring out of her ears and nose and mouth and she was panting and oddly clearheaded. Percy was smirking.

Dawn glared at him and punched his arm. “Very funny. You knew that was going to happen?”

Percy rubbed his arm. “Ouch. Yes. Well, if you had sufficient magic to activate the potion properly.”

Dawn sniffed. “Well if you do something like that again, I’ll hand you over to Faith to play with after a Patrol,” her eyes twinkled.

“Faith?” Percy asked, curious.

“A friend of mine,” Dawn smiled a little sadly, *At least I think she was*, then perked up again. “She has an earthy sense of humour. And she’s quite lusty,” Dawn leered. “Pretty boy like you? She’d drag you off to her cave in seconds.”

Percy flushed. “No, thank you. I-I prefer more cerebral women,” He gave her a look. “Pretty?”

“Hmm, Perfectly Pretty Percy,” Dawn teased. She sipped her coffee, looking into the distance. “I once read that wizards with an attuned focus can teleport more easily…”

Percy nodded. “Apparate and Disapparate, yes. Most wizards can do that.”

“So these kidnappers could do the same? Could your mother and sister-in-law do it without wands?” Dawn asked.

“Not if there were anti-apparition wards up,” Percy explained. “I think Mum could do it otherwise, I don’t know about Fleur, but neither of them could manage to take Victoire without a wand, it would be much too dangerous.”

“So these anti-apparition wards, could we search for those?” Dawn asked hopefully. “You know, scry for them?”

“Well, yes, I suppose we could. They are quite noticeable if you know what you’re looking for. But you have to know the general location where they are before you can do that. Most people just use that to locate the edges of the field,” Percy explained.

“So are there many of them?” Dawn nibbled the scone.

“No, they are quite difficult to set up, at least the permanent or semi-permanent ones. I could raise one to cover this room for maybe half an hour and then I’d be exhausted,” Percy took a sip from his tea. “A more powerful wizard would last longer, but I don’t think even Dumbledore would have lasted more than a day at most.”

“Okay, if I was a kidnapper I’d go for maximum security. So I’d want those wards. So we have to look for them,” Dawn mused.

“All over England? Have you any notion how much power that would take?” Percy asked, aghast.

Dawn smirked. “I may have a fri- know someone who can help with that who can help there.” *If she isn't drunk or tells me to shove off.*

Percy looked more than sceptical. “The only one I can think of who might have that kind of power is the Witch of the West. And I’ve no idea where to find her and from what I heard about her she’s unlikely to help, more likely to cackle and throw us into an oven.”

Dawn grinned involuntarily. “Well, I think my friend can help. She’s been a bit grouchy lately, but I think that is mostly because…” Dawn’s voice stumbled as she considered the reasons why Willow might not be willing to help Percy and her, then shook herself. *There's a kid in danger. Of course she will help.*

“Well, anyway, for her to get past wards and pinpoint the location of your mother, we need some personal items or hair. Do you have some?”

Percy shook his head. “Didn’t see the use. I’m not a combat wizard and I’d need to get help anyway. We’d have to go home,” he added wistfully.

“Then let’s go and then we go and talk to Wi- My frie- this person, okay? We can take the spells we think might work and show them to her and see what she thinks?” Dawn asked.

“Very well,” Percy replied after some thought. “I’m too tired to read anyway. Let’s go outside and I’ll take you home.”

Dawn smirked. “Ever taken a girl home before, Percy?”

Percy flushed. “No. Now let’s go.”


The Burrow

Dawn squealed when they landed, throwing her arms around Percy’s neck. “That was awesome! Can we do that again later?”

Percy flushed. “Errr, maybe. Possibly. Certainly. Harry? Ron? Something wrong?”

The two men with drawn wands studied the two newcomers with stern, hard expressions. “Who’s this, Percy? I really don’t think this is the time to bring home your new girlfriend,” Ron asked.

Dawn grinned as she felt Percy’s stiffening posture and saw his flush. “No? I think it’s a perfect time to do so. What better time for a family to draw together than during a crisis. I’m Dawn. We need some items that belong to your mother, Fleur and Victoire to help find them.”

There was a snort. A man stepped out from the bushes behind Percy. He had red hair and only one ear, a ragged hole and scar showing where the other had been. “Seriously? You’re Perce’s girlfriend? I don’t believe it. You’re probably Smith-Coddington polyjuiced and in drag.”

“George,” Percy greeted the other man in a slightly resigned tone of voice. “Dawn is a researcher and-”

Dawn, who was by now seething inwardly at the dismissive way in which his brothers greeted Percy, grabbed his face and lightly kissed his lips, twice. “Hush, Percy. Stop denying it. The fact your brothers can’t find a cool, gorgeous brilliant girlfriend of their own is their problem, not ours. Now, we need those items?”

Percy blushed, flabbergasted. Dawn raised an eyebrow at George who stood very still. Then he walked past them and into the house, returning a short time later with three hairbrushes. “Will these do?”

Dawn nodded and accepted them gravely, her hand trembling a  little when she noted the Disney print on one of the brushes. “Perfectly, thank you. Percy, I’ll need to call my friend, or her defences will trigger and we’ll end up very small piles of ash.”

Percy gulped. “What? How?”

Dawn grinned. “Magic,” then took out her mobile and dialled. She had only one number for Willow, as the witch hadn't given her any others. Dawn had taken the hint and not tried to contact Willow. So Dawn used her official Council one. It was strictly for emergencies, but Dawn figured this was one.  It was only then she noticed the time. “Aw, crap. Its two o’clock in the morning! She’s gonna kill me! She hates getting her sleep interrupted.”

The phone stopped ringing and she heard Willow’s voice. It was breathless, excited and very annoyed. “This had better be very important, Giles. Very, very important indeed.”

Dawn winced. *The only thing Willow hates more than having her sleep interrupted is having her sex interrupted. I just hope she thinks this important enough…* 

“Err, Hi Willow. This isn't Giles, It's Dawn. Sorry to call you so late. You see, errr I, errrr, met this guy in the Secret Library, with a wand. And his Mother and sister in law and niece have been kidnapped by these evil icky bad guys-” Dawn rushed out.

“Did you say ‘wand, Dawnie?” Willow interrupted.

Dawn's heart warmed a little at the familiar appellation. “Yeah. He uses it as a focus, you know like in “Methods and Manners of magic?” Dawn named a book that she knew Willow had read. She heard a giggle in the background and then Willow half hissed, half squealed.

“Hannah! Stop that!”

There was another giggle. Then the sound of a soft slap, some laughter and giggles and Dawn grinned as she imagined the scene. Willow sounded very happy. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard, after all.

Willow returned to the phone. “Okay, wand. Do you have any personal items?”

“Yup, just collected them,” Dawn assured her. If you take down the wards, I’ll ask Percy to apparate us to you.”

Willow was silent for thirty seconds. “You can come through now. I’ll get out the maps and the incense.”

Dawn smiled at Percy in sheer relief that Willow would see them, and that she appeared quite civil. “Thanks, Will. We’ll be right by.”

She hung up and leaned into Percy, letting her curves flow into the surprisingly muscled body of the tall redheaded wizard. “Let’s go and save your mother, Percy,” she purred throatily. 

Percy flushed again. Dawn could see Harry, Ron and George gape in astonishment. Then she felt the apparition take and prepared for the awesome, giddy-making rush.


They popped back into existence in a corridor. The corridor didn’t even look a tiny bit like the field next to Willow’s cottage in Tywardreath. Or like her well maintained, flower filled garden, even if Dawn only knew them from the pictures on Willow's website. It was cold, dank and smelled musty, damp and decayed as if something had died in an old fridge.

Dawn took a deep breath to control the high the apparition had given her as she realised that something had gone wrong. “Okay. Percy? Where are we? This so isn’t Cornwall.” *Unless Willow has just lost another girlfriend in, like the last thirty seconds.*

Percy drew his wand and unconsciously pulled Dawn into his side. His face was grim. “I don’t know. I can sense a lot of magic…” his eyes widened. “Impossible. We can’t be!”

“We can’t be what?” Dawn asked, confused. She leaned into Percy and very carefully laid a hand on Percy’s abdomen, noting that he had a definite six-pack.

“This is Hogwarts! It’s one of the most heavily warded places in the world! It should be impossible to get in here. No-one can apparate in here without express permission of the Headmistress or the Castle!” Percy was looking around wildly, his wand at the ready.

Dawn very quietly in the depths of her mind, let out a string of vituperative oaths before her mind got back on track. *Okay. I need to ask Willow about this. Maybe the whole key-ness thing isn’t quite so gone as we thought.*

“Okay. Ummm, so we shouldn’t be here and we couldn’t be here. So how come we’re here?” She asked in what she hoped was a reasonable tone of voice that did not ooze guilt.

Percy flushed. “Well, errr, you see, with Apparating you have to keep the three D’s very firmly in mind.”

“Three D’s?” Dawn inquired.

“Y-yes, you see apparition is based upon three premises: Destination, Determination and Deliberation. One must be completely determined to reach one's destination, and move without haste, but with deliberation,”  Percy explained.

“Okay, so what destination did you have in mind? I told you about Willow’s cottage, right?”

“Err…” Percy flushed, “I was, errr, distracted.”

“Distracted? DISTRACTED? We’re going to save your mother and you’re distracted?” Dawn growled.

“Yes. I had an incredibly beautiful girl draping herself all over me. I was distracted,” Percy told her firmly. “You’d just kissed me, too, remember?”

Dawn opened her mouth to retort, but a slight flutter in her stomach stopped her. Percy was an incredibly single- and strong-minded individual, able to concentrate on a text for hours yet a few touches from her had distracted him. She couldn’t help but feel flattered. Add to that the fact she wasn’t entirely sure their being here didn’t have at least something to do with her having been, or possibly still being, the Key…

“Okay. Sorry about that. Your brothers’ attitudes annoyed me,” she grudgingly admitted.

“They have a right to an attitude. It took me ages during the war to stop being an idiot and join the side of good. They must have been wondering lots of things when I showed up with you,” Percy told her quietly. “And I’m not.”

“So they keep bearing a grudge towards you for past mistakes? That sounds familiar,” Dawn muttered. Then his last words registered and she blushed very slightly.

She cleared her throat. “Okay. That explains why you were distracted, but not how or why we’re here.”

Percy shook his head. “I don’t know. I was thinking I-” he hesitated.

Dawn gave him a poke. “Yes?”

Percy took a deep breath. “That I wanted to save my Mum so you could meet her. And that you were my girlfriend. So. Once we’ve saved them, want to go out for tea?”

Dawn blinked. “Errr… So you wanted me to meet your Mum? Wouldn’t that mean she’d be close by to where we ended up?”

Percy’s eyes widened in realisation, looking around, his wand flicking about. “They wouldn’t have!”

“Wouldn’t have what?” Dawn asked, a trifle warily.

“Taken them to Hogwarts! It’s a place we would never look, and there are rooms here that are seldom or never visited, especially in the dungeons. And they could be locked and warded and changed so Mum wouldn’t know where she was!” Percy was gesturing with his wand and muttering spells. A section of wall lit up and he “ah’ed” in satisfaction.

“Okay. I get all that. But how did they get in, if the wards on this place are so strong?” Dawn asked, confused.

“There are lots of secret passages into and out of Hogwarts. They may have used one of them. If this is where I think it is…” He looked at the stonework and tapped it with his wand, muttering a sentence in faux Latin. The stones shivered and moved back.

“AVEDA KEDA-” a voice called out, only to be halted by a spell shooting from Percy’s wand. Then Percy jumped and rolled into the room. Dawn followed, cursing the fact she only had one short knife with her.

There were three men in the large room beyond. One was on the floor, wand out, expression of shock on his face, stiff as a board. He was dressed shabbily and looked unshaven.

The two others were drawing wands and rising from the small table they were sitting at. It looked rickety, if new.

“Bombarda!” Percy shouted, his wand aimed at the ceiling.

Several blocks of masonry fell and the two men weren’t able to dodge them completely. One was struck on the shoulder, the other got a gash on his forehead. Percy followed up his attack swiftly.

“Constricto! Petrificus Totalus!” His spells hit the targets and on went down, stiff like the first man, the other was bound almost head to toe with ropes.

Percy looked around, as did Dawn. A huge statue stood against one wall, an old man with a long beard and moustache. The room was badly lit by torches set into sconces in the wall that were far too large for them. Dawn figured they ought to carry something magical, like a glowing orb. Or magical flames. Her eyes narrowed and she threw her knife, blessing Spike for teaching her. There was a scream and then a man staggered away from the shadows he had been hiding in, Dawn’s knife deep in his shoulder. Percy gestured and the man was falling, stiff and frozen.

Percy took another deep breath. “Lumos Maximus!”

His wand lit up and the darkness of the room was thrown back. Dawn squinted against the light, seeing no one but the four bested foes. Percy looked around as well. He tied the paralyzed men up with his spell and then started to explore the room.

Dawn did so as well, wandering around aimlessly, seeing if anything felt odd. Between the legs of the statue she stopped. “Percy? I think there’s something over here.”

Percy hurried over and looked at where Dawn pointed, then moved his wand. The stones moved aside, showing another vaulted chamber, though much smaller than the one they were standing in. In the corner of the room, huddled on an old mattress sat the most beautiful woman Dawn had ever seen, cuddling a small, crying toddler to her chest. An older, motherly looking woman sat in front of her, glaring at the door. The older woman was bruised and cut but rose defiantly, standing in front of the blonde woman and the child.

“I’ll not let you touch them, you beasts!” Magic crackled in the air and Percy ran past Dawn, grabbed the woman and hugged her.

“Mum! Oh, Merlin, Mum. Did they hurt you? Fleur, are you alright? Did they harm you? Or Vicky?” He held his mother away from him, anxiously checking her bruised face, looking for worse injuries.

Fleur, for that was what Dawn assumed was the younger woman’s name, rose shakily. “Percy? No, no they didn’t. Maman was brave like a lion. She threw one out with her magique zat would ‘ave…” she swallowed. “Ve are unharmed. But they would not give us water or food… Soon, I would ‘ave… for Victoire.” She glanced helplessly at the child in her arms.

Percy looked aghast, realising they had only been just in time.

Then Dawn was by his side, a bottle of Gatorade in her hand and a candy bar in the other, handing both to Fleur. “Here, take this. We need to get you to a hospital, Vicky especially.”

Molly’s stare raked Dawn from head to foot. “And who are you?”

“Dawn, Dawn Summers. I met Percy in the Secret Library in Oxford. And after all this is over, he owes me a date,” she turned to Percy and poked him in the chest with a forefinger. “And tea won’t cut it, mister! I want a proper date, in a proper restaurant! Understood!?”

Molly looked between them, then at Percy’s bemused expression, at Victoire sipping the strange liquid from the bottle that Fleur held and smiled. “Don’t worry dear. I’ll make certain he does.”

Author’s note:

And here we have the third installment, and a question from the author to the readers. None of the BtVS characters had a relationship at the end of Chosen except Willow and possibly Faith and Kennedy.

Only Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione had paired off in Harry Potter. I’ve already broken up Kennedy and Willow, should the Potter pairings be broken up too?

Let me know what you think.




The End

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