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Whoa, What The Hell?

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Summary: Cordelia's coma free, and getting the dish.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Multiple PairingsJmariaFR151016,81114513,5245 Feb 0431 Jul 05No

Whoa, What The Hell?

Disclaimer: Joss owns all things Buffy, J.K. owns all things Harry
A/N: Ok, exploring the universe I made with the little domestic scene in WWAM. Yeah, Cordy is Harry’s Aunt. I missed tonight’s episode of Angel, so I have no clue what happened. (luckily I taped it, but it’s at home. wah.) Ok, so she’s up and obviously in London. I’ll explain. Oh, this is set directly before WWAM. Set after OotP.


Whoa, What The Hell?


“What do you mean I had a brother?”

“Cordelia darling, let me explain. . .”

“You better explain.”

Her mother threw back two pills and laughed nervously through the phone. Her previous affair had not ended well, and Robert Potter had taken her baby. Not that she was upset. It was a horrible mistake that she had gotten ‘indisposed.’. She’d been happy to get rid of the little freak. Then she’d become Mrs. Chase, and having a baby was expected. She whimpered.

“I - was indisposed -”

“Mother, you got knocked up and just gave away the baby?”

“Well, when you put it like that -”

“You come out as a major bitch? Yeah, I noticed that too.”

“Oh - Oh, I’m feeling -”

“Like skirting around the issue with one of your ‘headaches‘?”

“I - I can’t talk.”


“What?” Mrs. Chase sounded exasperated.

“What happened to James, my brother?”

“Half-brother. Oh, and he’s dead.”

* * * * *

Cordelia Chase made her way across the airport. Queen C was in England, and she was going to get her nephew. Even if it put her back in a coma.

* * * * *

Harry glared at the four walls of the smallest room of number four Privet Drive. He was completely pissed off at everything. Since that night in the Ministry. He heard the doorbell ring as he imagined hurling his shoe through the window.

“May I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for Harry Potter.”

Harry jerked his head up at the sound of his name. Could it be a Deatheater? He was so wrapped up in his frantic thinking, that he zoned out of hearing the conversation.

“Look, you fat tub of lard, I know Harry’s here. And I’m going to talk to him. Now, move your fat ass and let me in.”

Harry raced down the stairs to see his Uncle Vernon flat on his back, blood spurting from his nose. A tall brunette stood over him, her hands on her hips. She smirked.

“No one gets in Queen C’s way.” She looked up and broke out into a genuine smile. “Hey, you Harry?”

“Yes.” He said slowly.

“Hey Harry, I’m your Aunt Cordelia. I have some explaining to do. Trust me, it’s gonna take awhile.”

She put her arm around his shoulders and stepped around Vernon, leading him to the living room.

“It all started with this girl Buffy . . . “



A/N2: Ok, how’d I do?
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