Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling own their respective creations. I only own a wayward imagination.
Author's Note: Post Deathly Hallows, epilogue compliant. AU at end of Season 7 Buffy.
Buffy slowly entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She was done, again. Months after she had been brought back from the dead she had finally admitted to herself that while she had chosen to die for her sister, there had been an underlying weariness that had been a contributing factor. Nearly two years later, she had yet to fully recover from that weariness. She knew she never would.
She moved towards her closet to grab a bag and pack a few things.
"Hey, kiddo," a masculine voice came from behind.
"Whistler," she didn't bother to turn around.
"This wasn't supposed to happen."
"Lot of things weren't supposed to happen," she shrugged. "Which one do you mean?"
"Couple of things. Mostly, you coming back. There's going to be hell to pay for that one."
Buffy turned around to see the balance demon sitting on her bed. "Let's play Blame the Buffy. It's the game that all the cool kids are playing these days."
Whistler shook his head. "No one in the know blames you. The blame has been squarely placed on the Scoobies."
Buffy raised an eyebrow at that.
"Really, you did good. You weren't perfect, 'cause hey no one in this world is, but you did good and you got your reward." He got up and walked over to her. "But now you have to clean up their mess. Lucky for you all you need to do is go home."
"Didn't you hear? I've been kicked out of the house."
"This isn't your home anymore. It hasn't been for a long time." Whistler raised his right hand and placed his index finger right on the center of her forehead. "Remember."
She closed her eyes as memories flooded her mind. She remembered being dead. She remembered being surrounded by love. She remembered the father that she had never known in life. The father that loved her even though she was a Slayer. She didn't know how long she stood there but when she opened her eyes, she was at peace.
"A friend of your father's is waiting down the street for you."
She turned to leave the room but stopped just before she got to the door. "Can you tell Spike that I'm okay?"
"Sure thing kid."
She opened the door and exited the room. She walked down the stairs and out the front door, ignoring the whispering potentials and the stares of her sister and her former friends. She closed the door to the house and her life. She was done.
The British Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, waited two blocks down the road from the Summers residence along with almost thirty British and American Aurors. It was a level of coordination that hadn't been seen since the second Muggle World War, only this time, the field of battle was American soil. Shacklebolt and his team were taking the lead, if only because of the heritage of some of the participants and because it was, frankly, politically expedient.
"Auror Potter, go to her," the minister said softly as the group watched the blonde woman approach them.
"Is this really the only way?" Harry so did not want to do this.
"The sacrifice must be made if we are to stop It."
It. The First Evil. Something so vile not even Voldemort would have been tempted.
"I understand," he said as he walked towards the woman.
"You will," thought the minister.
Unknown seen be those outside, one of the potentials, Dawn's classmate Amanda, peered out from a window. She had been too timid to speak up for Buffy and she was terrified that they had all made a terrible mistake. She watched as Buffy was met by a young man part way down the street. She was startled as they both popped out of existence.
"Surround the house," Shacklebolt called out. "No one enter or leave the premises."
Half of the aurors apparated the short distance to cover the back and sides of the house. The minister and the remainder walked down the street to cover the front of the house. Once they reached the driveway, seven aurors accompanied Shacklebolt towards the front door. He smiled grimly. The red witch had been careless as the wards she had used were tied to the owner of the house. The wards had collapsed the moment she had been kicked out.
Amanda called out for the Scoobies as she watched the strange looking group approached the porch. She was scared as she could see some of the were wearing robes. They didn't look like the First Evil's minions but who else was wearing robes in Sunnydale?
Giles came to the door as six men and three women stepped on to the porch. He recognized the lead man from the window.
"Good heavens," he said with a sense of relief. "Amanda, is it? There's no need to panic. Reinforcements have arrived."
Giles opened the door. "Minister, thank you for coming. I must say though, I'm surprised that the Ministry has chosen to become involved."
Harry, as per his orders, had apparated directly to the ninth level of the Department of Mysteries. An honor guard was waiting.
The group walked in silence down a hall that Harry never wanted to see again and through a doorway that he wished was sealed forever. They entered the Death Chamber. The guard stayed just inside the doorway as Harry and Buffy continued down towards the pit.
"Are you really sure that you want to do this?" Harry asked.
"Yes," she said as she stared at the stone archway on the dais in the center of the pit. "They dragged me back. I didn't want to leave. I was happy there."
She left him and climbed up the dais. She turned and smiled. "When its your turn, many years from now I hope, maybe we'll meet again."
She turned back and stepped through the Veil.
Shacklebolt watched impassively as his Aurors rounded up the suspects and took them into custody. It wasn't without incident. Two of his Aurors had been injured attempting to apprehend the Red Witch who was now in a full body bind along with the Dark Slayer and two potentials. The remainder of the group including the Watcher, Robin Wood, Dawn Summers, Anya Jenkins, and Xander Harris stood quietly as it was quite clear that in a confrontation, they would lose.
"The American Ministry has graciously allowed the British Ministry jurisdiction in this case as the major offense was against the daughter of a British wizard and war hero."
The minister pulled out a parchment with the charges. He didn't actually need to read them off as he was the one who had written them out in the first place.
"Willow Rosenburg, you are hereby accused of the abuse of magic and the use of dark magic including but not limited to the resurrection of a Champion. Your actions have directly contributed to the rise of the First Evil. You will be tried one week from today for your crimes. If found guilty, you will be remanded to Azkaban for the remainder of your life."
"The being calling herself Anya Jenkins, also known as Anyanka and Aud, you are likewise accused of the resurrection of a Champion. You will be tried one week from today for your crime. If found guilty, you will be remanded to Azkaban for a period of not less then ten and not more than fifty years."
"Alexander Harris, you are hereby accused of abetting the aforesaid Willow Rosenburg in the resurrection of a Champion and the misuse of magic. However, as you are a Muggle, a non-magical person, if found guilty you will only be Obliviated."
"Rupert Giles, it pains me to say that you have not broken any Wizarding laws and therefore no charges can be filed against you. You will however, be returning to England tomorrow morning. Your visa, thanks to the American Ministry of Magic, is in the process of being revoked. Your duties as Watcher will fall to Mr. Wood."
"And finally, Dawn Summers," he turned the shaking teenager. "As you are now without a guardian, the Ministry has arranged for you to be cared for by Mrs. Andromeda Tonks. She has agreed to take you in as you are her grandson's half-sister. You will have three days to pack before Aurors Canning and Weasley escort you to England."
"You can't do this," Willow raged. "Who is going to stop the First if you arrest us?"
"In case you have missed the obvious, you have been incapacitated Miss Rosenburg, by us. You are not nearly as powerful as you think you are. And the First has already been stopped," he paused for effect. "Six minutes ago, Buffy Summers personally reestablished the balance that you disrupted."
None of the house's inhabitants said a word while they tried to figure out how Buffy had done it. Then, Dawn started to cry. Some of the others began to understand as well. Shacklebolt glared at the rest before disapparating. He was followed by all of the Aurors, who took the three prisoners as well, leaving only Aurors Canning and Weasley behind.
"Now, the first person to go mental on us gets hexed into next week," Ron Weasley said. "Have I made myself clear?"
135 years later
"Mr. Potter," a never forgotten voice called out. "Late as usual. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."
"Professor Snape?" Harry turned and blinked. He was surprised to see his old professor, although the man didn't look quite so old has he remembered.
"And Buffy Lupin," a blonde woman stepped into view. "Sorry about the welcome but Sev won a bet with the parents oh, about fifty, sixty years ago. Come on, everyone's waiting for you."