I own nothing except the plot, okay, maybe not ‘cause it’s been used so many times, but I own the details! Buffy and Co. belong to Joss Whedon, Harry and Co. belong to Joan K Rowling and they are both property of Warner Brothers. Nothing intended, just having a bit of fun.
Chapter 1: It begins in the middle.
Seven people sat around a table, silently despairing the death of a friend. Though they had never met him or seen him, they knew him and admired him for his trials, his seemingly unerring sense of judgment, and his final fight to save one he thought redeemable. But one he trusted most had betrayed him, and he was finally human in their eyes, begging and pleading for help.
“I just…can’t believe he’s d-dead,” Dawn said, stuttering as silent tears worked their way gracefully down her face. Faith sat quietly beside her, her expression one of surprise and slight grief. “Yeah,” she said, “that was really not expected.”
“Right bastard,” Spike seethed, his eyes dark, fists clenched on the table top, “not even giving him a chance for a proper duel.” Xander looked up from his perusal of Giles’ table and nodded at the ensouled vampire. “For once, I’m in complete agreement with him. That was a really cowardly thing to do.”
“He didn’t really have a choice,” Giles reasoned quietly, looking around when Willow kicked him under the table. Noticing the dark glares, Giles quickly came to his own defense, “Now, really, we don’t know any of them that well. Sn-.” He stopped at the glares thrown his way, slumped into his chair and gave an ‘oh well, I tried’ sigh.
Buffy glared across the table at her mentor, rubbing her younger sister’s back comfortingly. “How can you say that? We all have a choice.” When she said this, she put her arm around Dawn’s shoulder and squeezed. “He was just saving his ass; I have no respect for a person who can kill as…as…” Buffy trailed off, looking slightly confused and pouty.
“Remorselessly?” Willow suggested with a hopeful shrug. Buffy smiled gratefully, “Yeah, as remorselessly as he can. I mean, he killed Dumbledore. That’s just, wrong.”
There was general assent around the table, heads nodding vigorously. Dawn choked back a sob, leaning on her older sister. Buffy soothingly combed her fingers through the long dark hair.
“I never thought of Snape as a killer,” Willow said thoughtfully, eyes sad. “He was always a bit rrrr, but I always hoped he’d had a human streak in him. It made it all the more plausible I could sleep with him.” Silence greeted this quiet, thoughtful announcement. Willow looked around the table lazily, in a kind of grieving lethargy, and gave a half-hearted shrug. “What? You hafta admit he always was kinda sexy, with his whooshy cloak and glariness. It always made you think it was kinda, you know, woo hoo in bed.” She flashed a small, goofy grin around the table.
Faith leaned back in her chair, a smile on her face. “Red’s got a point: he always was a sexy son of a bitch. And you know what they say: Men with long noses have long-ow, what the fuck, B?” Seeing Buffy glance at the youngest Summers between them, staring at Faith, Faith rolled her eyes and said, “B, I think the little ball of magic can deal with hearing the word penis.”
Dawn tugged away from her sister’s grasp and nodded. “Yeah, Buffy, I know about sex, so don’t worry about it. Sheesh, you’d think I never went to school.”
Buffy opened and closed her mouth several times, then said, “I hope, for your sake, that you mean knowing in the mental, I-learned-it-in-school way, not the physical, I’ve-had-hot-sex way. You haven’t, have you?”
Dawn stared at her sister, bemused. “Um, Buffy, I’m a virgin, so no need to worry.” Spike smiled at Buffy and said, “The little bit is telling the truth, Buffy. I’d have smelled anything on her if she wasn’t.” Dawn gave her sister The Eyebrow (so capitalized because of her scary way of making you feel idiotically threatened when she threw it your way) and turned to Faith. “You thought Snape was sexy? And you thought about his penis? Eew, that’s just, eew.” The younger brunette wrinkled her nose, “That’s just gross.”
“Agreed,” Giles said quickly, looking pained as he cleaned his glasses yet again. Xander nodded beside him, looking slightly queasy. “Yeah, can we stop talking about Snape’s penis? I think fictional sex is kind of a girl’s thing.”
Spike raised an eyebrow at the young man sitting beside him and said with a smirk, “Really? And what would you call all your so-called conquests?” The vampire growled when Xander smacked him hard on the forearm, but refrained from retaliating. After all, even ensouled vampires who were friends with the slayer knew never to get on her bad side.
Buffy looked around the table, smiling at the ease with which they were discussing the death of a fictional character they had all loved so much, considering the events that had literally rocked their world just a year previously. And now, here they were, sitting in Giles’ apartment, debating the sexual stamina of the man who killed Dumbledore, a friend in print only. Buffy knew that by tomorrow they’d be sitting in Giles’ kitchen again, eating breakfast and discussing their plans. How ironic, she thought, that death, no matter how small, seemed to be cast away by them so insignificantly. She’d even forgotten about Them for the short time they had debated the book. The remembrance of the final battle brought a sad smile to the Slayer’s face and, once again, she lost herself in the past.
Dawn and Faith, well into a debate about the stamina of certain fictional characters, did not notice when Buffy stood from the table and left. Xander was too busy trying to prove to a certain bleached vampire that his conquests were in no way fictional that he missed Willow’s poke in the ribs. Only when it happened a second and third time did he turn to her with an agitated, “What?” Following her slight nod and meaningful glance, his temper softened as he beheld one of his best friends standing by the window forlornly, forehead pressed against the cool glass. Xander knew what she was thinking, and felt ashamed that he hadn’t been thinking of it as well. After all, hadn’t the woman he loved so dearly, enough to forget her demon aspect, been lost in the battle that had claimed so many lives, yet had saved so many more?
Loud laughter from Faith brought him back to the present, and he glanced across the table, taking in Faith’s mirth and Dawn’s embarrassment. Buffy also noticed the commotion, and a smile, a true light-in-the-eyes smile, graced her sad features. Walking back to the table, she sat down, shook her head slightly at Willow’s understanding look. Xander turned to the witch and smiled, squeezing her hand which lay on the tabletop. Willow smiled back at him, squeezed his hand back, and looked to where the action was.
“Buffy!” Dawn whined, “Can you make Faith stop talking about sex? She’s going into detail.”
Giles, previously busy with making sure his Slayer was alright, jerked, his glasses sliding down his nose. “Wh-what?”
Buffy stared at her sister slayer incredulously. Faith just rolled her eyes at the shocked looks (Spike was the only one who found this highly entertaining) and said, “I was just explaining the basic principles pf sex.”
“And positions,” Dawn piped in, looking slightly horrified and fascinated. Xander choked back a nervous giggle; Willow twitched and gave a loud gasp; Giles took off is glasses, cleaned them, began to put them back on, then though better of it; Spike smiled widely, leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette, preparing for a long and entertaining little chat.
Buffy’s eye twitched spasmodically, giving her quite an insane look. Anyone who knew her, and had any ounce of sense, knew that the safest place to be when she was like this would probably be in an airplane. Unless she was on said airplane. Those who did not know her thought this made her quite humourous looking, until she started beating on whatever was making her quite violently irritated. Right now, that thing was Faith, and Faith, knowing her and being quite insane, sat in her chair and smirked.
“What? All I said was that hands and knees was quite rewarding. Although scarves can be nice,” she added as an afterthought. Giles jerked again, his knee banging painfully into the table. Willow stood quickly, gathered her beloved book to her chest, and back away quickly. Xander sat, transfixed as if watching two trains smash into each other. Spike raised an eyebrow and silently applauded the brunette Slayer; he wisely did not do this physically as he enjoyed the use of his arms attached to his body. Dawn’s eyes widened, pupils contracting in shock, her jaw dropping. Buffy’s eye stopped twitching, which always meant one of two things: 1) Everything was fine, she was content, and the hills were alive with music, or 2) Things just got a hell of a lot worse, she was under a lot of stress, and she desperately needed to beat something evil and smelly to alleviate the feeling. Right now, it was the latter.
“Faith,” she said, putting everyone’s guard up with the deliberate sweetness she unsuccessfully used to cover the steel in her voice, “would you care to go outside.” Faith, however, was distracted. The brunette squinted at something behind Buffy, tilted her head, and said, “Uh, G-man, there’s a big ass owl outside your window.”
Giles, glad for the odd distraction, turned his head, replacing his glasses as he did so, and saw an owl sitting calmly on his window sill, a fat envelope in its beak. The others had turned as well and now they all stared quizzically at the barn owl standing outside at noon. Dawn craned her neck, then smiled. “Hey, its like in Harry Potter. Oooh,” she squealed, a large grin on her pretty face, “maybe its from Hogwarts.” Then she seemed to remember the subject of their original conference and sobered. “Well, it would be if Dumbledore was still alive.” She sulked again, not paying much attention when Giles took the letter from the owl before the majestic bird flew off.
The Watcher stared at the envelope for several moments, his brow furrowed in confusion and concern. Spike put out his cigarette on the tabletop, watching Giles for any other reaction. When none was forthcoming, Spike said, “Oi! You wanna tell us what’s with the pretty birdy?” Giles’ head came up quickly, his expression one of surprise as he surveyed the gathering around his table. “Oh, oh yes,” he muttered, walking forward with the letter. Now, even Dawn was curious, and leaned in with the rest as they gathered around to look at the envelope Giles dropped onto the table.
In dark green ink, penned by a quill on yellow, thick parchment, were the words:
Hogwarts’ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
To Mr. Rupert Giles and his gathering
115 Huntington Lane,
Mr. Rupert Giles’ Living Room, Dining Table
So, tell me what you think! My first ever HP/BTVS fanfic. A bit sketchy. Feed back always welcome!!!
LeadCrystal (or pooka, if it floats your boat)