Title: Harry Potter and the Order of the Great Dane
Part: 8/?: Beseeching Buffy
Summary: Giles explains.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer through Season 6. Harry Potter through “Order of the Phoenix”
* Timeline for this installment: This chapter begins the Evening
* before and morning of day that Chapter 2 begins. (In other
* words, the hospital scene with Giles.)
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In case you need to catch up, the entire story is available at http://www.brendanm.com/fiction.
I don't own this stuff. Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling do. No cash made, just fun had. I promise I won't break 'em, and I'll put 'em back in the case when I'm done.
1) Thanks to everyone who sent feedback. I really do appreciate it.
2) I'm going to pull a Quentin Tarantino and jump around some more. Some of my early feedback mentioned that they'd like to see what occurs in this chapter.
3) “Las Brujas” is Spanish for “The Witches”
June 5, 2002
Dawn was pinned.
He had come out of nowhere.
His hands held her wrists to the ground above her head. His knees immobilized her legs.
Her stake was lying uselessly by her side, and her Shoto was still strapped to her back.
She struggled to extricate herself, but the vamp was too strong. He went for the jugular.
That was right about the time Buffy smacked him upside the back of the head with her quarterstaff.
“And what are you gonna do about it,” he told her.
She thwacked him again.
“Buffy! Stake him already!”
“YOU stake him, Dawn.”
“THAT HURT,” the vamp roared.
“Uh... Buffy... Kinda hard to do that right now...”
“So, get him to let you go.”
“How am I supposed to do that?!”
“I dunno, figure it out.”
It was at that point that the vampire went in for another pass.
A small branch ripped itself off a nearby maple. Whatever force had amputated the arboreal appendage drove it straight into the vampire’s heart.
It all happened so fast that Buffy didn’t have a chance to bounce her quarterstaff off his head again before he exploded into dust.
The Slayer stood there, stunned. “I suppose that you COULD do it that way...”
June 5, 2002
Giles awoke to see Buffy and Xander seated next to his bed.
“How are you feeling,” Xander asked.
Giles smiled. “Much better. Thank you. They’ve upgraded me to solid food, and they’re letting me stroll about as long as I take my ‘dance partner’ here.” He indicated the metal pole that his intravenous drips were hanging from.
Xander grinned. “That’s great!”
Buffy elbowed her friend in his ribs. “About the magic shop...”
The older man sighed. “We won’t be able to repair the building?”
“I had my engineer come over, and there’s just too much structural damage.”
“I had feared as much. I shall have to contact the insurance company.”
Buffy weighed in with, “Anya’s way ahead of you. She’s got the adjusty guy coming out here tomorrow.”
“Ah. Efficient, as always. How did Dawn’s training session go last night?”
“Good,” Buffy told him. “She got one all by herself.”
Giles’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Did you help her?”
“Not really. I just kept him from biting her. He had her pinned, and then he went for her jugular, and then – out of NOWHERE – this branch flew down from a tree and went right into his heart. It was like this big around.” She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger that was about the size of an Eisenhower dollar.
The hospitalized Watcher considered the story. There were two possibilities that immediately came to mind. The first – and less disturbing – he discounted immediately, because it involved a nearly catatonic Willow assisting the younger girl. By all accounts, the redhead was still curled up in a corner in her room, alternately sobbing and sleeping. The second possibility involved Dawn using telekinesis or magic. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he should have expected something like this, seeing as the girl had been created from a Slayer and a magical green energy ball.
He started to reach for glasses that he wasn’t wearing, and Xander palmed a twenty over to Buffy.
“I hate it when you’re right,” he whispered in her ear.
June 5, 2002
Dawn had answered the ringing telephone.
“Yes, hello, Dawn. Is your sister there?”
“Hang on, I’ll get her.”
She put her hand over the mouthpiece and bellowed, “BUFFY! IT’S GILES!”
Buffy came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a floral printed dishtowel. She took the receiver from her sister and put it up to her head. “Hey Giles.”
“Hello, Buffy. How is everything?"
"Not too bad, just doing the dishes. What's up?"
"I'm happy to hear that everything is quiet. I need you to do some things for me.”
“Go down to the Magic Box, and retrieve a decanter from under the counter for me. It should be about half full with a bright glowing blue fluid. If it has been broken or is missing, I will need you to gather some ingredients...”
June 5, 2002
The broken glass and debris that lay on the once clean floor crunched under their feet.
Dawn looked around nervously. Her eyes lingered on the seemingly important beam that was hanging at an odd angle over the stairs. She asked, “Xander, should we be in here?”
He shrugged. “Probably not,” he replied.
Buffy made her way over to what was left of the counter. “Let’s just see if Giles’ bottle is still here. The sooner we get it, the sooner we can get out of here.”
“No arguments here,” Dawn murmured.
The Slayer dug around in the mostly intact cabinet. The only major damage was the lack of glass from when Buffy had landed on it.
"Found it," she declared, holding it up from behind the till. "It’s not in a decanter, though. Looks like we don't have to find the abysmally shriveled figs."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "That's Abyssinian Shrivelfigs."
Something in the roof creaked.
"I think we should go."
"Me too," Dawn seconded.
"Me three," Xander chimed in.
A gust of wind caught something metal and pushed it violently into something made of concrete with a loud BANG!
Without another word, the three dashed for the door.
June 5, 2002
"Here's that stuff you wanted us to bring," Buffy told Giles, handing him a small duffel bag.
Behind her, Dawn closed the door after Xander ushered a timid Willow – who seemed to be incredibly interested in the tiled floor – into the Hospital room.
"Thank you, Buffy," he replied, unzipping it and extracting the bottle. He unscrewed the top and sniffed. Apparently satisfied, the Watcher chugged about half of the contents.
And came up gagging.
"Dear Lord, I’d forgotten what a foul concoction that is."
Buffy asked, "What *IS* it?"
"It is a restorative draught which repairs physical trauma. I began brewing it when I was first assigned to Sunnydale – in case you needed it – and have made a killing, so to speak, selling it out of the shop. Anya has been brewing it in my absence.”
It was then that he looked closer at the bottle. “Remind me to ask Anya why she felt the need to put it in a Jack Daniel’s Whiskey bottle.”
Xander chuckled at the Watcher's comment.
They all watched as he dug into the bag and pulled out a small wooden box.
From that box, he drew a highly polished stick. It was about a foot long, and looked to be made out of Cherry wood.
“Dawn. Please come here.”
The younger girl approached.
He handed her the stick.
She looked at him, prompting him for instruction.
"Dawn, I want you to point that at that wall" – he indicated the wall across the room – "and give it a bit of a wave."
The MSDS binder that had been hanging quietly on the wall – minding its own business – was violently deprived of its contents. It dropped through the cloud of floating paper and hit the floor with a rattling THOP!.
Dawn shrieked in surprise, dropped the stick on Giles' lap, and jumped back about four feet.
The older man looked thoughtful. "Interesting," he murmured. He then retrieved the piece of wood from his lap, pointed it at the decimated book and announced in a clear voice, "Librum Reparo!"
Just as quickly as the book had been destroyed, the pages flew back into it, sorting themselves into their original places. After the book was repaired, it made its way back up the wall to the broken chain that it had been hanging on until recently. The chain mended itself, and all was as it was.
Well, perhaps not everything.
The Scoobies goggled at him, looking the part of a school of large goldfish. He had even gotten Willow's attention. Until that point, she was doing a remarkable imitation of someone who was counting the brown speckles in the tiles that made up the floor.
Giles, who had begun to feel much better after downing half the healing potion, pushed himself up in his bed and regarded the group before him.
He looked quite serious.
"What I am about to tell you is protected information under the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy, and has been classified Top Secret by the American Department of Sorcery and the British Ministry of Magic."
If possible, the Scoobies' eyes went wider.
"I am sure that you all remember when Catherine Madison tried to kill us all."
"I told Buffy and Amy that that had been my first casting. That statement is... not entirely accurate. It was, in fact, my first time using wandless magic."
None of his surrogate children seemed ready to pass out, so he continued.
"I am a Wizard. There was a time when my family was one of the most powerful clans in existence. Over the years, my family married into muggle – er... normal human – bloodlines, and magical powers are becoming increasingly rare. My Grandfather's Grandfather was the last one in our line to exhibit magical abilities."
Xander spoke up. "So, then that skinny stake is you magic wand?"
Giles cracked a bit of a smile. "Yes, this is my wand. We use them to focus our powers. It was made by a kindly old gentleman who has been making wands in a small shop in London for several years. It is twelve inches, and it is made of Cherry wood with a core made from Mermaid hair. I am told that this is a very rare combination."
Buffy inquired, "So, then, how did you learn the mojo if your parents didn't know how to do it?"
"I attended a wizarding academy in England. Willow probably should have gone to one when she was eleven. I am not sure as to why she did not get an invitation, however. I suspect that it has something to do with the Hellmouth.”
Giles paused for a drink of water. "Buffy told me about Dawn's adventure this morning, and it seemed that she might be... magically inclined. After what she did with my wand to the Hazardous Materials Manual, I now have no doubt."
Dawn's brow furrowed. "So, I'm a witch?"
"I believe so."
She looked like she didn’t know whether to be ecstatic or horrified. "Cool... I think."
Buffy looked freaked out.
Willow, if possible, looked like she had slipped further into catatonia.
Xander looked confused. “So, if this is all classified, why are you telling us?”
“Partly because you lot already know that magic exists, and partly because I have been offered a position teaching a class in magical defense at my alma mater, and I’m taking Willow with me. I’d like to bring Dawn along, too.”
June 5, 2002
After everyone – aside from Willow – voiced his or her opinion, Giles sent everyone but Dawn out.
"Dawn, how long have you been able to do magic?"
She shrugged and kept her eyes downcast. “I first made stuff move about three or four months ago, I guess.”
Giles sighed and closed his eyes.
“But until now, the most I could do was float a thumbtack.”
The Watcher pondered this for a moment. “And then, this morning, you panicked and, using magic, tore a branch the size of your wrist from a tree and drove it into a vampire’s back.”
He smiled at her. “Most immature and untrained witches and wizards perform wandless magic when they experience large amounts of stress. I am fairly certain that being pinned down by a vampire qualifies.”
Smiling slightly, he poured himself a cup of water from his pitcher and drank it.
“I should have intervened more than I did when it came to Willow’s magical education. I contacted the American Department of Sorcery’s Bureau of Magical Education once her power manifested itself, but was told that Willow should have been entered into the education system when she was eleven, and they would not take her at sixteen. I contacted my old Headmaster and inquired about magical training at Hogwarts, and he was amiable to the idea, but I had to get the permission of Willow’s parents.”
“And Willow’s parents, being Willow’s parents...”
“Exactly. Once she graduated from high school, I should have suggested to her that she pursue her magical education, but I didn’t think that she would want to forgo her college education, and she was rather attached to Oz... And then push came to shove and I was rather glad that she was here and not in England.”
“I think that we all were,” Dawn agreed.
“But, that does not negate the fact that Willow did need some sort of formal training. I did not insist upon it, and look where it’s gotten us.”
“Well, the whole fighting root monsters thing WAS kinda freaky,” she supplied.
“Had you been properly trained, you could have just apparated yourself out of that hole, or made yourselves feather-light and jumped out, or one of several alternatives that would have sufficed.”
“You are aware that Anya’s demon powers allow her to teleport?”
“It’s a bit like that. Only you do it to yourself, or, in very rare circumstances, yourself and another person. Of course, that requires a special license –”
Dawn cut him off. “I’m convinced. What do we have to do?”
“Needless to say, I have made arrangements for you, should you choose to accompany me. The only problem is convincing your sister. Dumbledore will not allow you to attend school unless we secure Buffy’s permission.”
“That’ll be fun.”
“I won’t lie to you, Dawn. Buffy will not be pleased; however, I believe that she will want to make sure you’re trained properly.”
“I do wanna go. But you’ve gotta tell Buffy.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. “NO! We just got back on track, and she’s doing so well... and I'm doing lots better, and what about her training?"
Giles suggested, “I would train her.” He continued, drolly, “I do know how to do that, you know.”
Buffy mulled over that statement, and asked, “What about school?”
“She will be attending school.”
“No. Normal School.”
Giles sighed. “Each magical child has the option, during their sixth year, to take a class called ‘Muggle University Preparation’. Every student that takes this class will have the necessary knowledge to enter any college they like. They will graduate from Hogwarts with the requisite paperwork as well.”
Buffy mulled this over. On the one hand, she didn’t want Dawn anywhere she wasn’t, and she was chained to the Hellmouth. On the other, she didn’t want Dawn to lapse into what Willow had. An added benefit was that she WASN’T going to be on a Hellmouth.
“What about protection? She’s still the you-know-what.”
“All of the professors are accomplished witches and wizards,” Giles explained calmly. “And several of the more experienced ones are Dueling champions. The Headmaster defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald in battle by himself.”
“And she can come home in the summers and Christmas?”
“Of course,” Giles replied.
“I still don’t like it.”
Giles began to protest, and was cut off by Buffy’s hand.
“But I’ll let her go.” She turned to go back out into the hall. She paused at the door. “Giles?”
She responded in a quiet, fragile tone. “Make sure she stays safe.”
The flight attendant’s tinny voice announced, “We are now beginning our descent into New York LaGuardia Airport. Please return your seat backs and tray tables to the upright and locked position. Fight attendants, please prepare the cabin for crosscheck.”
Dawn pushed the button on the armrest to put the seat back up.
She was looking forward to meeting the Headmaster of Giles’ school. He sounded like an older Buffy. Only a guy.
They were going to be spending a few days in New York’s magical neighborhood, New Amsterdam. Giles stated that they both needed wands, if nothing more, and they might want to get some wizarding robes to help them to blend in. He was also going to be arranging transportation to England via the transatlantic port key, whatever that was. Apparently, you can’t use port keys near hellmouths; the magical interference was too much for them to accurately reach the destination.
Hence the long-assed flight to New York.
What Dawn didn’t know, however, was that there was another magical community nestled in the Mojave. Las Brujas had everything that Giles had suggested that they look into (except for the transatlantic port key, but there was one to New Amsterdam, and they could then on a connector to England.), but he’d decided to burn up his frequent flier miles, seeing as he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to redeem them in the future, and he was sure they’d expire before he’d be able to use them.
That, and Las Brujas did not have an Olivander’s. They did, however, have a Varitas Estamos Nosotros. Giles did not feel that procuring one’s wand from an establishment that called itself that was a good idea. Although – a point in their favor – the word ‘estamos’ wasn’t written backwards.
“Flight attendants, crosscheck.”
Dawn looked over at Giles and Willow. Giles was sitting quietly and calmly, while Willow was leaning on the wall. Willow had perked up a little bit the last few days, and – according to Xander and Buffy – she’d been thrashing around less at night. Her increased lucidity was particularly evident when the pilot extended the slats, the flaps, and spun the engines up faster in preparation for landing.
Dawn had not known that Willow’s knuckles were that big.
Or that they got that white.
Tune in next chapter for an exciting letter home.