The More They Change::celeste::Disclaimer
: Don’t own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayers. I’d think that’d be fairly obvious, since my name is neither Joss Whedon nor JK Rowling. Money? HAH! I spit on your gold doubloons! I defy the face of fortune! I-- um… nevermind. Point is I’m poor as hell, and don’t think my writing will ever change that. This may not be reprinted in any manner that violates the copywrites of anyone who actually OWNS the characters… y’know the drill. Don’t get me sued.Long notes. One time gig.Pairings
: Spike/Drusilla, Willow/Oz, Snape/Willow, Buffy/Angel… and more… Rating
: 15 for STRONG language, violence, and sexual connotation. Um, will be naughty parts- but I’ll take a page from Echo’s book and put them on a high shelf where the kiddies can’t reach it.Spoilers
: I can tell you right now it’s planned for Seasons 2-4 of BtVS, but it may go on well past that. The plot is kind of sketchy in my head as of now, and I’m letting it take me where it wants to go for however long. Up to Order of the Phoenix in Harry Potter.Setting
: MAJORLY AU. I’m talking serious Alternative timelines going on here that, by the end, will probably resemble nothing of the universes you know. Well, that’s the fun of AU isn’t it? There will be episodes from the show occurring, and I’ll tell you which at the end of those chapters- but other than the barest bones- they’ll be altered. Occasionally will run parallel with Whedon’s stuff, tidbits of dialog here and there, but more often than not it will show ‘outakes’ *nods* or completely re-done stuff. Just so it’s not all ‘insert character here’. If it is ‘insert character here’ it’s mostly the major action scenes towards the beginning till the heavy shifts start. Kind of my intention to lead you guys into it gradually.
Oh, and for anyone who cares, Severus is eternally 19. Figures for that- graduated in 1978 at 17, changed 1980 at 19.Summary
: What if Drusilla and Spike had another member in their gang when they came to Sunnydale? A young vampire named Severus Snape shows up with the pair.A/N
: I’m still primarily working on The Other Half
as I start this, evil bunny just appeared one afternoon, so I’m not sure how quickly new posts will be added. Really- whenever the mood to write it strikes my fancy, and when school will allow it. Don’t know how long this will end up when it’s finished, but I can tell you it will be VERY long. So far I’m thinking well over two hundred pages at least. My stories tend to go towards the triple digits anyway.
If someone else has thought of this scenario before, forgive me, I haven’t read it and thought this original and neat. *snorts* Probably isn’t, but there you have it.
Not currently beta’d, as I didn’t want to bother CinnamonGrrl by asking, so be wary of my mistakes. *hangs head in shame* Forgive me…
Sorry for the long note. Onward…PrologueJuly 23, 1980. Midnight. Knocturn Alley. London, England.
Black robes swirled around his thin legs, covered by expertly cut trousers. At the bottom of those trousers, on a tip lightly flaring out in a style that was all the rage a hundred years ago, were silver clips bearing a decorative serpent coiling around a wand. It was those shiny buttons that attracted Drusilla’s attention. How she loved pretty, sparkly treasures, and as her eyes took in the young man’s features- she knew she’d found another precious doll for her collection.
His eyes were shadows, so deep and dark that she shivered in a pleasant fashion. His skin was the color of the moon on a clear night, and his hair looked like slithering strands of spilt oil. His fingers could be claws, long pointed talons that curled into angry fists. He was scowling, thin lips twisted like pretty little snakes.
Drusilla was smitten at once, so dark and beautiful this one. He already looked like their kind, but she could smell the life in him- tainted with a beautiful tang of brimstone. He was already embracing the night, but still walked outside of it. Drusilla decided to bring her dolly into the blackness with her, no need to ask Daddy for the toy, she’d take it herself.
Stepping quietly out of the little alcove she’d been watching from, her eyes dreamy and a secret smile on her lips, Drusilla followed on lightly clicking heals behind him. He had heard her, she meant for him to, and he slowed his steps cautiously. Drusilla’s smile grew to reveal white teeth- he was perfect.
She let him lead her down a few more winding streets, awash in the dirty world of London. Her dolly thought he was pulling his own strings, and she was content to play. His next turn took him into a dark space between two crooked, crooked buildings, and Drusilla’s wistful gaze let her know he was going to try and capture her like a clever snake leading the mouse into it’s coils. Her head weaved in delight, and she stepped with anticipation within the darkness she could see through like day.
Her doll was fast, one of his arms pressing against her throat, forcing her back flush against the brick wall. She peered at him with her large brown eyes, taking in his beauty up close. He pointed a magic stick against her bosom, those two button eyes narrowed with suspicion and hate. Then he spoke, and if she held any doubt before, his voice erased them all with its smooth caress promising death. “Why are you following me, Muggle?”
“Muggle,” Drusilla breathed. “Doll thinks mummy’s a nasty human.”
She smiled absently at him, resisting the urge to run a finger down his narrow face- afraid she might frighten him away at her touch.
“Doll?” he repeated unbelievingly, his snakes twisting into a sneer. His eyes then flashed down her body, and Drusilla fluttered her lashes at the leer in his buttons. “Hmm. You’ll do for the revel quite nicely, I think.”
“Revel for games?” she questioned without care. Her vision filled with images from his past, and in her madness she saw what she needed. “They don’t care for you,” she told him in a far away voice. “You think he’ll give you power, but he won’t. He’ll use you up, dolly. Two puppet masters will make you dance.” Her eyes turned more lucid. “I can give all the power treasure wants. Dolly will never need anyone again.”
She gave into her desires and stroked his cheek, watching the widening of his eyes with interest. “Mummy will give hers to him.”
“You talk in riddles,” his snakes hissed. “You have no power to share, Muggle.”
“But I do, I do, I do,” she assured him sweetly.
Her finger kept following the proud line of his jaw, ignoring the twitch it gave as it swept down to his throat. Drusilla’s eyes closed in ecstasy as she felt the pounding of his fire next to her skin. “I’ll give all you’ll ever need. Mummy gives all she can of herself for her dollies.” She stared into his black buttons, drinking in the night she found there. “He wants that, doesn’t he? He wants the masked men to bow down and worship him, for all those who made fun of his treasure to scream as he hurts them. Yes, I see it, I see it.”
Her words, so loving and tender, worked through the defiance in his mind. Sang to him like a pretty lullaby. She’d sing many for him, every night if he wished it.
Slowly his arm withdrew, lowering to his side as the strings tying him to the Master were cut. Drusilla smiled happily. She was his now, not the skull’s. Happy, happy night. “Who are you?”
“Mummy,” she whispered into his ear, one hand lowering the magic stick, and the other tenderly cradling the back of his head. With a playful nip that caused a sharp breath to be sucked in, Drusilla giggled lightly before letting her lips trail down to his heart’s thrumming point. With a shift, her demon came out to play, and her teeth finally sank themselves into the moon-colored skin to claim him.
He gasped again, in pain this time, and she felt his throat work with the sound as the lovely nectar poured from him into her. She drank greedily of it, nearly purring as she crushed him to her bosom. He clutched at her, continuing to moan though no ears would hear as his life slipped from his heart to hers. When the warmth began to slow, nearly running out, Drusilla reluctantly drew her mouth away. Licking her lips like a satiated kitten after drinking all the cream.
He was totally supported in her arms, his head bent back as his button eyes turned even glossier. Life was slipping away now, and Drusilla acted quickly to sink her own black painted nails into her throat. She then lifted his head tenderly, directing his mouth over the flowing cut. “Be a good boy and drink.”
He did, as greedily as any babe. Her eyes fluttered closed, a hand absently stroking his hair as she held him closely to her since his legs would no longer keep him standing. She waited until her own knees felt week, and then had to pull him away. She smiled tenderly at him through her demonic mask, they always wanted more and more.
His lips were covered with little drops of blood that made them glisten like kisses. Drusilla bent her face and darted the tip of her tongue out to lick them off, before pressing a chaste kiss to him. The human gazed at her with wide eyes, and then they closed as his heart finally fluttered to a stop.
Drusilla giggled in delight again as his magic stick clattered to the street. “Sleeping doll,” she whispered before her face shifted to her human visage again. She then frowned lightly, knowing she couldn’t leave her precious for the other magic men to find. They might burn him to a crisp, and that wouldn’t do.
Picking up his stick, because little boys loved their toys, Drusilla shifted her doll in her arms and hummed as she swayed down the street. Heading home to daddy with their new baby.
“Oh no,” daddy said angrily as she walked into their tomb with her doll still crumpled in her arms. “No! I told you to stop bringing any bloke you found home, Dru!”
“Shh,” she replied. “Dolly is sleeping.” Her head weaved with her statement in bliss.
“He’s dead, Dru, not ruddy sleeping. You killed him, and-“ daddy paused as he took in her appearance. “Oh bloody hell. Turned him, did you?”
“Mummy and Daddy need a loving boy,” she told him, a bit upset Spike didn’t seem to understand. “Make us a family again.”
“No!” he shouted, his eyes burning with a jealous candle that made Drusilla’s still heart flutter.
Ignoring his outburst, Drusilla carried her doll over to her bed, laying him down atop the silk coverlet, and gazing down with a critical eye. He looked so pretty, but he was positioned all wrong. She hummed a non-existent tune as she began moving his limbs, crossing his arms over his chest and straightening his legs. For the final touch, she shifted his head, and combed her fingers through his hair so that it would lie fanning across the pillow.
Drusilla then settled down next to him, continually running her hands through his silky hair. So good did it feel she wasn’t sure where it stopped and the actual silk of the pillowcase began. She gave a contented sigh, snuggling on her dolly’s chest, and continued to pet his hair.
“Daddy should go get some food for baby,” she told Spike in her dreamy voice. “He’ll be hungry when he wakes.”
She heard the metal on his boots tap against the stone like the spikes that were his namesake had rung out as he drove them through screaming men a century ago. “If you want to feed him, get his dinner yourself,” he finally growled before sitting down in a chair. “And he’s not my sodding kid, Dru.”
Adjusting her head against the still chest, she peered over at Spike. His face was darkening in anger, his eyes fixed on her doll. “We shouldn’t fight. Children don’t like mummy and daddy fighting.”
“Oh for the love of,” he cut off and ran a hand through his gelled hair in agitation. Drusilla looked at the flaking paint on his nails, and thought she’d have to repaint them soon. “Look, how do you know he’s not going to just be another-“ Spike’s hand fluttered, “stupid lackey? What’s so special about this one?”
“He’s full of the night,” Drusilla replied, hands still combing through the sleeping doll’s hair. “And he has the spark.”
“Spark?” Spike asked.
“The magic,” she clarified with a secret smile. “He’ll be wonderful, daddy. You’ll be proud.”
“A Wizard?” Spike asked. At her nod, he rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “Bullocks.”
“Shhh!” She admonished angrily, covering her doll’s ears.
Spike gave her a look, before snorting and standing.
“Fine. But he’s your responsibility, Dru, not mine,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “I’ll go and get a morsel, I’ll play house, but if I think anything’s going on I don’t like-“ Spike’s face shifted and he snarled in warning.
“He’ll be the perfect boy,” Drusilla assured him before burying her face back in the sleeper’s chest.
“Right,” Spike stated sarcastically before grabbing his leather jacket that still smelled of the Slayer he’d took it from, and then muttered a few more angry words as he threw it on. The door to the crypt slammed shut behind him, echoing off the stonewalls.
Drusilla smiled happily. She knew the bird would sing a different song. Soon.