Spoilers: Non really, as this is AU of Angel this season. Spoilers for OotP (the last HP book)
Rating- R for swearing
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. Harry Potter does not belong to me either.
Archiving- the rest is here: http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=328735
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He was sitting on the floor with his back against an armchair. The way he was positioned suggested that he had slipped off the chair to his current pose. Just as I was about to ask what he was doing he looked up at me with tears in his eyes.
Answering my unasked question Angel said softly with desperation, "Sirius Black? The only thing crueler would have been Neville!" He sobbed with his statement.
I couldn't help but smile as I sank down to my knees in front of him, "Oh, honey," I said, "it's only pretend. Angel, I know it's sad but I bet she brings him back in the next book. I bet that portal led to Nebraska where he's convalescing and then he'll come home. I spoke to the *real* Sirius a few days ago, he wrote me a letter while very drunk."
He rested his head on my chest and wept, "It's just so sad! Harry never gets a break."
"Harry's a fictional character, love." Angel the stone faced, cold-blooded vampires was crying over a fictional child. "Hey! I have an idea! Let's write a threatening letter: it'll be fun."
"I just hate how she uses real people ya know? I mean yes, the kids are fictional but I mean: she wrote Dumbledore crying!" his voice broke, "Can you imagine?"
"She had permission, Liam. From all I've heard Joanne seems like a nice girl."
"And it's almost frightening. It makes you think: what if another dark wizard rose?"
"There hasn't bee a dark wizard since Hitler and Dumbledore fixed him in the end. Anyway, he liked vampires, he never touched us even though we're mudbloods."
"What do you thing he would do with anomalies like us? What do you think he would think of Conner? You and I have made a lot of enemies. How long would we last? We're world-famous turncoats."
"We would go to Dumbledore; he's always helped us in the past. Christ, he even let me attend Hogwarts. Minerva and he went out on a real limb for me."
"Yes but you made them look good." Angel sounded sullen as he sniffed. Spike knew Angel didn't really like Dumbledore. "You got O's on all your OWLs and you got eleven NEWTs. That's practically unheard of."
I couldn't help but smile at his praise. "I had the best academic of any student ever. It was weird I always thought I should have been in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. I was smart and ambitious."
"You were also true hearted and loyal." Angel pulled me into his lap and I just smiled. And he said *I* was the tactile one.
"I don't like the way she makes us Hufflepuffs look thick. . . I miss Dumbledore, I haven't spoken to him in a long time. He is the most astounding man I ever met. He let me in solely on the promise that I would never use magic to harm anyone. He trusted me to keep my word: a soulless vampires." I laughed at a memory, "I made Willow make me a love spell to try and woo Dru back. I didn't want to do it meself in case Albus decided it broke our pact. He let a 70 year old vampire into his school."
"You helped him a lot; he never regretted accepting you. He saw potential. Do you really think he'd help us?"
"Tell you what," I said comforting him like I would talk to Dawny when she had nightmares, "We'll write a disgruntled letter to Joanne and then go have us a talk with Albus."
"And how are we to do that?"
I smirked thinking of my walk with Moon that morning, "Ya know the sandwich run? And ya know how I got the gem of amara cut into two rings?" He nodded, "Well I want to get it screwed up so I went to the magic district and went to a jeweler who I could explain it to. He did a damn good job."
"I like the rings he made." Agreed Angel.
"Well then Moony and I went to an apothecary and got some basic spell and potion stuff, and I had a look at new brooms. And I looked at wands but Buffy gave you mine in that box, so I didn't need one. And well to cut a long story short I bought some Floo Powder and put a few protection spells on Moon."
~~~*~~~
How typically Spike, he had a whole day out and never told me. "You were gone two hours."
He shrugged, "They took their sweet time at the deli," he said thinking that I was saying he'd been gone too long.
"Wow."
"You should really ask me what we do on our walks. Now go find me a piece of cardboard and we'll write our stiff letter."
Rolling my eyes at his bad pun I found him some writing paper and within ten minutes we had drafted our letter.
Dear Joanne,
My sire Angelus (see chapter 24 of The History of Magic entitled "The Scourge of Europe and his Progeny") and I just read your fifth book. We liked it. I felt it was only outstripped by book four (which I largely liked due to the interaction of Snape and Sirius, seeing my two best friends hating each other was fun). Your characterization of Snape is comical, one of the best inside jokes I've seen in a long time. I don't know how eight year olds get through them as both Angelus and I blubbered when Sirius died. We're hoping he isn't dead because that would upset us. It is my belief that the arch led to Nebraska where he recuperates and then returns to England. I suggest that this is what happens. Wouldn't it be best for everyone if you listened to your readers?
Respectfully,
William the Bloody
(See Hogwarts' a History chapter 12, "Odd Students," chapters 29 of The History of Magic "The Slayer of Slayers" and the new book: Spike- the Big Bad, the Wonderful Wizard, the Slayer of Slayers, and the Savior of Sunnydale)
"Hey!" I said indignantly, "I had a lot written about me too!"
"Yes," said Spike sounding like he was explaining something to a child, "but most of that shows you in a nice, positive, non-threatening light."
"This isn't that threatening." I said reading it over.
"You don't need to run around in leather pants screaming, "Look at me I'm evil!" to scare people. That's always been your problem. Sometime an understated menacing gets the job done more effectively then leaving a dead chick in someone's bed and cutting crosses into corpse."
Smiling at his reasoning I said, "She might get a restraining order."
"She can, that's fine. Anyway if she reads the biography on me she won't." He thought for a moment and then added a postscript to the letter which he read out loud. "PS: I was in Hufflepuff and I would appraise it muchly if you stopped making my house out to be naff."
I smirked but kept myself from laughing. "How do you plan on getting this to her?"
Will laughed ruefully, "I bought Moon an owl while we were out, he's due to arrive in an hour. He's a really beautiful barn owl. His cage is already here he's going to fly out later as he seemed to want to say goodbye."
"You're such a softy. Shall we go then?" I asked.
"Sure, we'll bring the baby. He's with Cor but I want Albus to check out my charms."
"You've been practicing for forty years: they're fine."
"Ok," he said nonchalantly, "we'll risk it then."
"Go get the baby." I said resolutely.
Ten minutes after quite a lot of explaining to Cordelia ("It's real? OMG!") we were ready to go. We instructed her to send the letter and were off. Stepping into the green flames I called out, "The headmasters' office of Hogwarts School, Great Britain." I held Conner in my arms as I began to spin. I hate traveling by Floo. I stepped out of the flames closely followed by Will.
Albus looked up from the Daily Prophet and didn't seem to be surprised in the least, "Angel, William, won't you sit down?" He gestured to the plush chairs in front of his desk. My childe sat instantly; I was slower on the uptake. Though Spike revered the man as a god I found Albus unnerving. There was something cold in his eyes. His manner was always warm to William, and he was a great leader for the Wizarding community, but I felt in my gut that he never liked me.
I realized suddenly that I had been addressed. "Excuse me?" I asked coming out of my reverie.
Rolling my eyes I took the baby from his arms. "I asked you to go find Minerva and have a chat."
He smiled clearly uneasy at the prospect of leaving the baby with Albus, he had never really liked the man. But to be honest the feeling was mutual. Albus never trusted Angel due to the soul business: he always felt that if Angel had lost it he would've become Angel. Moreover Angelus had proved him right. All this had been confided to me when I had come to Albus after I had reclaimed my soul. He had chided me off and informed me that I had always been a good man. Unlike, he had sniffed, some unnamed vampires.
Slowly it dawned on Angel that I was there and the baby was safe. As he shut the door behind him I heard the escalator like spiral staircase start to turn. Smiling I handed Moon to Albus. Dumbledore gasped as he looked at Conner. "Isn't he beautiful? So this is Angel and Darla's much prophesized son. Humm." He added the "humm" under his breath clearly thinking out loud as apposed to asking me.
"Angel sounded odd when he spoke of another dark wizard rising. He sounded like he knew something. Like he wasn't pontification but thinking ahead. He has the sight he just pretends he doesn't. He's always been able to feel out rough water, it's where Dru got it from. He ignores it, pretends it isn't there but he has prophetic moments sometimes. So tell me now, is there something coming?"
"I don't know," he sounded defeated and in awe, "There is a lot of odd power about. Some of which is radiating from this boy."
"Oh," I laughed, "It's probably the protections spells I put on him. They're still pretty fresh and I went a bit overboard."
"No, it's not your power. It's his."
"That ridiculous I saw him when he's fifteen: he *isn't* a wizard."
"From what you've said about this Holtz man and the way the boy was brought up it's more than likely that it was repressed."
"Is that possible: to repress power. I thought fear brought it to the surface more rapidly. I thought that if it was there it was there, Professor."
"Generally, no: you're right. But in rare situations it is very possible. If the man led him the dog's life you've described, in a hell dimension no less, it is very probable that the terror went straight over bringing the gift out to repressing it in fear that it would make matters worse."
I was totally aghast at the idea of what Moon had been through, "So what should I do, Professor?"
"For one thing you can stop calling me professor. I haven't taught you in forty years, I'm Albus to you. But all you can do for the boy is love him and take good care of him. And when, at age five, he sets fire to the dinner table congratulate him don't shout."
"I can't call you Albus, Professor, you're an adult." I said in a scandalized hush.
A hearty laugh met my statement in reply. "You're old enough to be my ancestor. Honestly, William, you are the oddest student I ever taught. And I mean that as a compliment."
"Oh don't worry, it was received as one." I nodded and shrugged.
"I read the biography."
"Yeah, it was written post-postmortem so I got royalties, pity. I hear it's selling rather well."
"I knew you wouldn't be gone long. Even when I read about the battle and your "final stand" I knew. You look wonderful for a dead man."
I smiled ruefully, "The last two times you saw me I was in a state. Once because I had the chip and couldn't feed and was therefore a walking skeleton. And the second time I was a raving loony with a soul."
His face darkened at the memory, "Are you going to acquire your soul again?"
"No."
The visage in front of me brightened quickly, "Sensible boy: you never did need it." He was vacantly rocking the baby. There was a lapse in conversation and then he said softly, "The offer is still on the table."
The smirk snuck onto my face, "Albus," I smirked again, "Even I am too rational to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"But you'd be so good at it, William!" he said coming as close to whining as he ever did.
I shook my head, "Angel has a whole business set up in LA. I couldn't drag him here."
Dumbledore seemed taken aback by this. "Oh," he said, "I didn't realize. I thought you were just here for the baby's sake."
"I know you don't like him," I spoke slowly trying to gage my words so as not to offend him, "but he's good for me and I love him. So I hope you won't-"
He cut me off quickly, "It's not that I don't like him: I do. It's just I'm very wary and I fear for him. I fear for you both. Anyway going back to the *important* topic you could apperate here and home. I'll give you clearance and modify the protection spell."
"Good. And nice work on those charms."
I was pleased with the compliment, "Yeah?"
Rolling his eyes he laughed and gently chided me, "After forty years I would have thought you'd be over the need for my approval."
"I didn't miss out any charms did I?" I asked anxiously.
Smiling he pulled out a well worn copy of Protection Spells, Remedies, and Antidotes. "No," he said, "but take this to ease your mind."
"Are you sure?"
"I know it by heart; I've always been a worry wart."
"Well thank you very much."
"It might come in handy next semester."
"Professor, I-"
"I thought you were past that."
I smiled, "I'm not promising anything but let me talk it over with Angel. Who's teaching it now?"
Albus sighed heavily, as though the answer pained him. "Severus Snape. He's not made for the job, but I nearly begged him. He doesn't like children. . . or people in general, he's a much better potions master. It's all too stressful for him, he is desperate to get out."
I felt my eyes widen at the thought of Snape having real interaction with his students. They must have ridden him roughshod, DAtDA? There was no way he could teach that, he could drill all the information into them but there was no way he was enjoying it or sleeping through the night. Down in his dungeons he was in complete control. He was safe and secure in the knowledge that he was the best person qualified to impart the knowledge into young minds but children frightened the otherwise laidback man, and if he didn't have a caldron between him and the class he was a mess. "I'll talk to Angel." There was silence for a moment and then, "Oh by the way, I sent a *slightly* threatening letter to Joanne Rowling, tell her to disregard it. . . not quickly mind you. Leave it until she comes to you and then tell her I have a warped sense of humor or something."
He sighed in a long suffering kind of way, "When will you grow up and make it so I don't have to bail you out?"
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