Disclaimer: I don't make any money from this writing project. I don't own the characters. I came up with the plot whilst scraping scum out of an industrial dish washer. Please don't sue me.
Author's note: This is set after the Buffy Series Finale and OOTP from the Harry Potter series, so there are some major spoilers. Also this does not take into account the Angel series. This is a Harry Potter vs. Buffy the Vampire Slayer story, so there won't be much in the way of hook ups or hand holding. If that is your thing, I urge you to flee. If you're looking for a story in which no one goes to Hogwarts to become a professor, then look no further. This story contains: Lots of action and violence, fights in almost every chapter, and quite a bit of angst and a little bit of swearing. Reviews are appreciated. That's it I suppose. On with the story. Hope you like it!
( p.s. I can't spell worth unsalted peanuts)
A Well in the DeadLand
The air was thick, still, and hot. The slayer took a step forward, and felt as if she were pushing through heavy curtains. The smell of it pored into her mouth and nose, even when she held her breath; rain spattered on scorching asphalt. The haze distorted the light, and everything before her was glaring and tinted blue. She stood on the crumbling road, and looked down into the crater.
Near the bottom, two shadows crawled slowly over the broken rubble. They were indistinct in the warped light, but the second shadow moved in a familiar and slightly ungainly manner. The slayer, Buffy Summers opened her mouth to call out, but the air pressed in like a gag. There was no sound. She went to the crumbling edge of the crater and looked down. A flat boulder lay thirty feet below. She leapt forward into space.
From one rock to the next, down into the remains of the town of Sunnydale, she jumped, skidded, and stumbled. She knocked loose a small avalanche of gravel, but that too tumbled on silently. As she neared the bottom, the crater didn't flatten out, but the two shadows grew closer. Buffy tried to run faster, to catch up, but for every step she took the space between them stretched out. She tried to call again. She filled her lungs and shouted.
The word shattered the silence. The second shadow paused, but did not turn, and the thick haze settled back in the next instant. The seemingly endless chase continued, but every breath of the tainted air now stole the energy from Buffy's limb. Her heart roared in her ears. She looked back over her shoulder, and realized they must be near the exact center of the pit that had swallowed their former home town.
The shadows came to a halt. Buffy clenched her fists and ran harder. The lead shadow raised his arm. The ground beneath her feet shook and Buffy stumbled. Rubble rose up around the two shadowed figures. The broken rocks twisted and turned in the air, sliding over each other. With a final deep rumble they snapped into place. The shadowed figures stood, looking up at the newly formed arch of stones. The lead shadow began to chant. The strange words filled the crater, and as they echoed the air changed, suddenly and sharply.
The haze vanished and the ground between Buffy and her destination no longer stretched as she charged forward. The blue tint faded from the air, leaving it a sickly yellow color. The shadows came into focus, resolving into two people in black robes. They were nearly the same height.
"Dawn!" Buffy called again.
This time the second figure responded. She pulled back the hood of her black robe. Dawn Summers turned to face her sister. In the next instant Buffy wished she hadn't. The other robed figure drew a knife from his sleeve. Dawn raised her arm as if to wave. The blade came down. She fell.
Dawn landed limply, without a single twitch to fight her passing on. The robed figure stepped forward, and retrieved the knife from her back. He turned and swung his arm. Drops of blood flew from the blade and splattered the stones of the arch.
Buffy did not halt her charge. She slammed into the murderer. He was lifted off his feet. The knife flew one way, a pair of glasses the other. The glasses held Buffy's eye for a long moment. One lens was cracked and they were held together in the center by a thick piece of tape. They struck the ground and shattered.
There was flash of light, like lightening, but glaring red. Across the arch, a veil of torn black cloth formed. A howling wind rose up, as if to pull it off again. The murderer rose to his feet. His hood had fallen back, revealing a young, pale angular face and a mass of messy black hair. His nose gushed blood, but his expression was ecstatic. He raised his hands and called out in the same strange language. The howling wind came even stronger and scraps of the veil tore away.
"The door is opened!" called the murderer. "Come back! Please come back!"
Buffy knelt by Dawn's side, and rolled her over. Her little sister's eyes stared up at her, empty and unblinking. Buffy brushed them closed. She felt nothing but cold.
The murderer did not look as Buffy got up again, and picked up the knife. It was still covered in blood. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.
"Murderer," she hissed. It was all she could say.
He looked faintly surprised. He started to pull something from his sleeve. Buffy didn't hesitate. The blade slid into his chest without resistance. He fell against her, grabbing the front of her jacket. His green eyes stared into hers.
"He was supposed to come back," the murderer said in a very childish voice.
His arms went slack and he slumped down at her feet. His breath left him in a rattling sigh. Buffy realized he couldn't have been older then Dawn.
A shadow came over her and she looked up. The sun had gone from the sky. She looked towards the arch.
Darkness washed her away.
Buffy sat up and pushed away the tangled sheets with a groan. She wanted to dismiss the nightmare as a vision brought on by the animal style In-and-Out burger she had ingest twenty minutes prior to sleeping, but she got up to check on Dawn anyway.
Her little sister lay asleep in the living room in front of the television. A man in an apron was yelling about a rotisserie chicken that was spinning around in a little box. Buffy pushed the off button. She took a blanket from the hall closet and threw it over Dawn without waking her, then went to check all the doors and windows.
She looked down at the street below the apartment. It was empty and quiet, which was rare in New York city, even at three A.M. The gross summer heat and humidity had faded for the most part. Buffy sighed. She went back to her room and changed into running shorts and a tee-shirt. She knew she wasn't going to sleep again that night.
She picked a sharpened wooden stake out of the trunk in her closet, and almost as an after though took the little canister of pepper spray the neighborhood watch lady had given her when she, Dawn, and Xander had moved in. If she didn't find any vampires on her jog, she could always beat the snot out of the muggers and perverts that called her rather low rent neighborhood home. Certain that she would feel better when the sun was up, Buffy set out into the not quite cool morning.