Fire & Ice - An Educational Introduction
Quasi-sequel to: A Blaze of Glory
Author: CanadaB (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Pairing: Willow/Draco, with mention of Faith/Blaise
Disclaimer: I only wished I had any right to any of these characters or world. But, I don't. They belong to Joss and J.K. All praise goes to them.
Distribution: You're welcome to it, just let me know where it ends up.
Spoilers: After the Buffy series ends, and after everyone graduated from Hogwarts.
Summary: Willow meets Draco since Faith took off with Blaise.
Author's Notes: I know that in A Blaze of Glory I mentioned at the beginning that Faith and Willow knew they were in a wizarding club, but for the sake of this story we're going to pretend that never happened. Okay? Thanks. :-)
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Willow pushed her way thought the crowded club, heading toward the bar where she had told Faith to meet her. Finally arriving at the bar Willow looked around for the dark haired Slayer, but to no avail; she couldn't find Faith anywhere.
"Damn it Faith," she growled under her breath, as she collapsed on to the nearest empty stool.
"She left with my friend," a silky, British, male voice said in her ear.
Willow started and turned around to see who had spoken to her. What she saw nearly made her jaw drop; only having spent time with Faith gave her the ability to keep from reacting outwardly. The man that had spoken to her had white blonde hair that reminded her of Spike's, only natural, even though it was much less gelled than the vampire's it was still about the same length. He also had stormy gray eyes that seemed to understand misery and pain as well as joy and victory, much like her own.
"Excuse me?" She asked after her momentary perusal of the man in front of her.
"Your friend, Faith, left with my friend Blaise Zabini. She asked me to tell you she was, and I quote, 'Five by five,' and that she went to 'work off some post-Slayage energy.' Whatever any of that means," he replied smirking.
she thought. "Thank you," she said. "It's nice to know that at least some things never change." She smiled at the blonde.
"I know what you mean," he agreed without thinking. "Pardon my lapse in manners. My name is Draco Malfoy," he said offering his hand.
"Willow Rosenberg," she replied shaking his hand.
"Well, Willow, seeing as it was my friend that took yours away for the evening, may I buy you a drink?" Draco asked as he sat down on the stool next to hers.
"Um, sure. I guess that would be okay," she stammered.
"Wonderful. What'll you have?" He asked as he waved the bartender over to them.
"Uh, a screwdriver please."
Draco smirked at the redhead next to him, liking the fact that she ordered liquor instead of beer.
"You heard the lady," Draco said to the bartender, who nodded. "And I'll have a Firewhisky on the rocks."
The bartender poured the tow drinks and placed them on the counter. Draco handed him two coins, the like of which Willow had never seen. She vaguely heard him tell the bartender to keep the change as she wracked her brain trying to recall if she'd ever seen a coin like that before.
Draco looked over at Willow, who had a puzzled look on her face. "What is it?" He asked.
"Those coins - what were they? I didn't recognize them, and I've seen what I thought was just about every monetary currency in the world."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "They were knuts," he answered, sounding like it was an afterthought, or at least not important. "How did you find this club if you don't know what a knut is?"
Willow shook her head to clear it and focus on the man in front of her. "What do you mean how did I find the club? There was a big sign out front and people walking in the front door. And what the hell is a knut?" Willow was getting more confused the longer she talked to Draco.
"I thought all the Wizarding societies used the same currency. Does the American Wizarding world use a different one?" Draco asked perplexed.
"Wizarding society? What's that?" Willow asked, her voice suddenly so full of emotion that Draco stopped with his glass half way to his lips.
"You don't know what the Wizarding world is?" Willow shook her head. "Then how did you see this club, it's charmed to look like an abandoned building to muggles?" He continued.
"What's a muggle?" She asked.
"A non-magical being," he clarified.
"Oh, then I'm not a muggle," she informed him perking up. He raised his eyebrow at her again. "I'm a witch," she informed him
"You're a witch that doesn't know about the Wizarding world? How is that possible? Where did you get your wand? Which academy did you attend?" Draco's mind was running in overdrive. Willow sat there staring at Draco, dumbfounded. "There are academies that teach you how to be a witch?" She asked, her voice sounding small and insecure. "And what do you mean - wand? People actually use wands?"
It was Draco's turn to sit dumbfounded. "You never when to school to learn? Everyone has to use a wand. How do you do magic if you don't use a wand?"
"No, and I just focus all my energy into what I'm doing," she answered his questions. She sat quiet, as did he, before she asked her next question. "Will you teach me about your world, and about how to do wand magic?"
Draco stared at her like she had grown a second head. "You want me to teach you?" He asked incredulously, his voice dripping with distain. Willow nodded. "Most wizards and witches start learning when their eleven years old. And you want to start now - more than twenty years late? Do you really think that you could learn anything now?" He asked condescendingly.
Willow glared at the blonde man next to her. "First of all," she gritted out though clenched teeth, "I've been studying magick since I was fifteen years old. And second, you can drop the holier-than-thou attitude before I show you how much of a witch I am and flay you alive."
Willow's eyes flashed completely black, making Draco jump. Willow knew that she was bluffing and would, most likely, never flay him alive like she did Warren; but Draco didn't know that.
"Merlin," Draco whispered in panic. "You really are a witch, aren't you?" It was Willow's turn to smirk condescendingly. "How. . . how did you do that? With your eyes, I mean."
Remembering exactly how, Willow looked down at her half empty glass. She took a deep breath then raised her head again and looked Draco in the eye. "That's a long, complicated, and not very pretty story."
"You delved in to the Dark Arts, didn't you?" Draco suddenly wasn't sure if he was scared or impressed, or both.
"I did," she admitted softly. "But I'm all better now. Now I'm all about delving into the White Arts," she told him, letting her eyes flash solid white.
"Bloody hell," Draco gasped. "Just how powerful are you?"
"Not sure." She shrugged to an unbelieving Draco. "I've never have anyone to compare too. Not really, anyway. The closest anyone's come to me was Tara and even then she wasn't really in the same league as me."
"Was?" Draco asked gently.
"She was killed. That's why I became all dark-evil-veiny-Willow. She was my world and I didn't know how to cope without her."
"How did you come back from that?" He asked, now thoroughly entranced by this redheaded powerhouse sitting next to him.
"The love of my friends and a coven in England," she stated.
"How did the American Ministry of Magic not find you to send you to an academy, I wonder?" Draco asked more to himself than to Willow.
"I've been thinking about that. Hold on - did you say Ministry of Magic?" Willow shook her head, "Nevermind. I'll deal with that later. Anyway, I wonder if it had to do with the fact that I was fifteen when I started doing magick. You said that most kids start at eleven. Either that, or maybe the Hellmouth blocked anyone from finding me."
"Most likely not the age thing. If you could do magic at fifteen you could do it at eleven. Did you try to do magic at eleven?" Willow shook her head. "Then how do you know that you couldn't do magic at eleven?"
Willow thought for a moment. "Good point. I guess I don't know. I suppose that means it was probably the Hellmouth."
"Um, what's a Hellmouth?" Draco asked, not liking that he didn't know something that sounded so important.
"It's just what its name implies - the mouth of Hell. It's a mystical convergence of energy that allows easier access between this dimension and others. And I went to high school on it." She smirked as he blanched.
"No wonder it was so easy for you to fall into the Dark Arts."
Willow shrugged her shoulders and downed the last of her screwdriver. "I lacked control, plain and simple. Now I have it."
Draco nodded as he too finished his drink. "That's what our wands are for. Each wand is different, based on the size, the wood, and the core. Mine is nine and a half inches of Ebony, with a basilisk skin core."
Willow thought about that for a moment. "I bet a wand would help my control exponentially."
Draco nodded. "Most likely. Or it's possible that a wand would hinder you more than help you, seeing as you've never needed it before. It may be more difficult to learn to filter your magic through your wand than is really worth it."
"Hmm. Never thought of that," she said. Willow studied Draco for a few minutes. "So, have you decided that I'm a decent enough witch for you to show around your Wizarding world tomorrow?" She asked with a cheeky grin.
Draco put on his most arrogant attitude and replied, "I'm not sure if an aristocratic Pureblood like myself should be seen with a Mud- I mean, a Muggle-born like yourself."
Willow raised her eyebrow and set in her Resolve Face and waited. It didn't take long until Draco's face lit up in a warm smile.
"I'm kidding Willow. Sortof. If it was any other Muggle-born witch I would most likely have stopped talking to her a long time ago," he told her honestly. "But you intrigue me. I'd be interested to learn more about your wandless magick."
Draco waved the bartender back over and motioned for refills. With full glassed, Draco raised his drink in a toast and Willow did the same.
"Here's to the beginning of a mutually educational friendship."
"Educational, indeed," Willow responded.
They clinked their glasses together and both downed their entire drink - thinking about all they had learned and all the possibilities of things yet to be learned from the other, and not just magically speaking.