Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Potter and related characters belong to JK Rowling. No money made.

Prompter: lolaann1

A/N: Okay, so I forgot I had this one on my list to do. As you can see, this came from a prompt for last year's wishlist. I'll forgo mentioning the actual prompt as it'll give away the fic. Also, once again, I'm messing with timelines. This is set post S7 Buffy, but within the books of Harry Potter—probably 5th year. I know the years don't line up, but as I said on a fic earlier this month… because fanfiction. Please enjoy!


"Well… crap," Willow said, crossing her arms across her emerald peasant blouse.

Xander leaned over her shoulder, his one remaining eye focused on the smoking ingredients in the pewter bowl that set on the gravestone before them.

"What happened?" he asked.

She shook her head, gnawing lightly at her bottom lip. "It didn't work."

"But it smoked. Without setting fire to it. I thought that was a good sign, magic-wise?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah. Usually."

He moved so that he stood just to his friend's right. "I don't like the sound of that."

Willow ran a hand through her fiery hair as she sighed. "You shouldn't. The spell didn't do what I wanted it to do. But it did something."

They—Willow, with Xander to assist—had been sent out into the nearest cemetery to perform a much needed spell. A group of slayers had returned to headquarters with a particularly feisty demon who had enchanted a handful of them to… well, to go all barbarian on one another. Buffy had had to lock them into separate rooms and leave a combination of slayer and wiccan guards on them. Then, she killed the demon. And when that didn't reverse the trouble, she turned to Willow. But now, Willow's spell hadn't work the way she wanted it too.

"So, what did it do?" Xander asked.

Willow looked up, moments from replying, when her eyes went wide.

"Xander, behind you!"

Snarling, its face already morphed, was a freshly risen vampire. Xander whirled, fists up ready to defend himself, when the vampire suddenly burst into a cloud of dust. When it cleared, Buffy, stake in hand, stood there. She tucked the stake in her pants pocket and motioned to the smoking bowl.

"How long ago was that done? I mean, the girls still aren't fixed," she said.

Willow shook her head. "Because it's not supposed to be doing that."

Buffy arched a brow. "Then what is it doing?"

"I just asked the same—oomph!" Xander said, suddenly cut off and sent flying forward.

"Xander!" Willow said, rushing to him while Buffy took out her stake.

"What was it? What happened?" she said, turning all around.

In the darkness, there was nothing but graves, the three of them, and the bowl to be seen. She turned back to Xander, who Willow as pulling to his feet. He rubbed a hand to the back of his neck, groaning.

"It felt like a truck just hit me upside the head!" he said.

"I didn't see anything," Buffy said… a moment too soon.

Suddenly, a black, flying ball made a loop in the air, coming down hard toward Xander again. Buffy yanked him down before it could strike him again, and the ball went zooming past them.

"What the hell?" Willow muttered.

"Oy, watch out!" yelled a voice that no one recognized.

The ball made a turn, making a beeline for Xander once more. His single eye wide, he seemed frozen in place as it threatened to collide with him again. However, a wooden bat appeared before him, knocking the ball back skyward.

"Bloody bludger's taken a fancy to you, I reckon," said his savior.

The young man—because, even at his height, he couldn't be any older than sixteen or seventeen—leaned on his bat, his red hair even brighter than Willow's, and his grin a little lopsided. He was lanky, and there was the faintest smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He eyed the three Scoobies, shrugging.

"So, who did the spell that brought me and my brother here?" he asked.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a glance. Finally, Willow meekly raised her hand.

"I guess that'd be me. Oops," she said. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Oh," the man said, holding out a hand. "I'm Fred Weasley. My brother, George, should be around here somewhere."

"Watch out!" shouted a voice identical to Fred's… but it didn't come from Fred.

Xander immediately turned skyward, seeing the bludger make another turn for him. This time, he didn't wait for saving. He took off on a sprint, ducking, dodging, diving, and turning as much as he could to confuse the ball. Meanwhile, the source of the other voice—George, presumably, since he looked identical to Fred—joined Buffy, Willow, and Fred.

"So, what's the deal with conjuring us all the way out… wait… where are we?" George asked.

"Cleveland," Buffy said.

"Yeah. My bad. Where were you before you were, you know, here?" Willow asked.

"Scotland. At school. In the middle of a game of Quidditch."

The slayer arched a brow. "Quidditch?"

"Oh, the coven told me about that. It's a game that wand-wielding withes and wizards play. But I don't get why the, uh, bludger keeps going after Xander."

"Maybe a side effect of your botched spell?" Fred offered.

Willow visibly bristled. "How do you know it was botched?"

"Because you don't know us, we don't know you. Why else would you want us here?" the twins said in unison.

"Whoa. Okay, you win. So, you're wizards. I'm a wiccan. Do I need to help send you back?" Willow asked.

Meanwhile, in the background, Xander screamed as he just narrowly ducked the attacking bludger. Fred and George chuckled, and even Buffy cracked a grin.

"Not really. We can just apparate to Hogsmede. But you might need our help with the bludger," Fred said, turning to do just that.

He withdrew a long wand from his robes, aimed it as best he could as the bludger, and muttered an incantation. The black ball plummeted to earth like a boulder, right at Xander's feet. He took a deep breath, and gave Fred a tiny salute of thanks.

"Uh, wait," Buffy said. "Before you… leave, or whatever. What do you know about Xaldrax demons?"

Fred and George exchanged a glance. "Uh, they tend to induce fits of violence if you're scratched by one. Why?"

"Wouldn't happen to know how to fix that, would you?"

George narrowed his eyes. "Is that what the spell was supposed to do?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah."

"All you need is some newts eyes. Like, a lot of them. It counteracts the essence of the Xaldrax."

Willow shook her head. "How do you know that? Where did you read that?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts class," they spoke in unison once more.

"At your school?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, at Hogwarts. Where else would we have a Defense Against the Darks Arts class?" Fred asked.

Xander rejoined the group, shoving the bludger into George's arms.

"All yours," he huffed.

"Thanks. Now, shall we go, Fred?"

"Sure. And, uh," he turned, adding to Willow, "next time you run into this sort of problem again… might wanna double check your stuff."

With a pop, the twins were gone, and Willow as practically fuming. Xander grinned, clapping his witchy friend on the shoulder.

"Maybe you ought to go to this school?"

Willow shoved his arm off. "Another word, and I conjure the bludger back."

He paled, and Buffy laughed.