July 18, 2016 - Muggle
Title: Muggle
Characters: Buffy Summers, Harry Potter, Madam Pomfrey, Cedric Diggory
Rating: PG
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1,347
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Harry Potter.
Summary: Buffy wakes up to a strange new world
Notes: Seems like I'm having a bit of an off month. Anyway, sequel to Save the Spare - http://31daysoffandom.livejournal.com/30863.html
The being that was once Buffy Summers was content. Happy. Euphoric.
The world - and it was not really that - was unlike her mortal life. Time meant nothing in this realm, form was no longer necessary. All around her she could feel the love of those she had known in her life, all the people she loved and some she had failed. But there were no regret in this realm, no guilt, no loss. Those she had loved and felt like she failed embraced her in their warmth, unconditional love and forgiveness covering her, allowing her to let go of the difficulties she had during her mortal life.
She was finished with her job and this realm was her reward.
The realm was light around her, light in a spectrum so white the human eye could not handle the luminescence. Each soul was part of that white light, each radiating devotion and care that was tenfold what it had been during their mortal life. The feelings were richer here, more pronounced.
The realm was peace.
Suddenly, a tear developed in the fabric of the realm. A wisp of power so dark, it dampened the brightness of the light, allowing a tendril of fear and anger to enter. Confusion filled those around the tear, their filaments of light vacating the nearby premise, distancing themselves from that bit of dark. Buffy moved away, only for the power to reach out and claw into her own bit of white light, polluting the color.
Limbs she no longer had seemed to grasp at open space, unable to gain traction as the power pulled her out of the realm. She could feel the love of her friends and family, and the love of her mother, attempting to keep her in the rightful space, but they were powerless as she was dragged along, her form already gaining the look it had in life. Arms, legs, the shape of her body, ears, mouth, nose, eyes…all the things she had already forgotten during her short time in this heaven. As her eyes once again formed, the glare of the white light of the realm almost blinded her and she opened her mouth, her voice appearing once again as she screamed in terror.
And awoke, fully human, in her casket, buried six feet under
Buffy gasped, pushing herself up with such force she tumbled out of the bed she lay, arms and legs sprawling everywhere as she automatically braced for the impact against the ground, her Slayer abilities already more aware than her normal ones. She landed on her arms and knees, the lower extremities absorbing the force of the hit, though pain shot through her body, adding to the places that were still sore from her desperate crawl out of the grave.
The memories of the experience hit her, fresh in their pain. She blinked back tears, her eyes still blurry from the last moments in heaven, from the glare of the white light the mortal body was not meant to experience.
Already she missed it.
A noise to her left had her automatically pushing herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily as she used limbs that were still adjusting to being in human form once again. Even with her vision problems - clearing up faster than she had expected - she could not help but blink in incomprehension at the people that pushed aside a heavy privacy curtain to see her.
They were wearing robes.
And they had sticks in their hands.
Something about the stick was familiar to her, in this experience and not her prior one, from what she witnessed after her resurrection. The ones she remembered were fighting, maybe? It seemed that way, at least, though really, she was fuzzy on what had occurred.
“You’re awake,” said one of the people, the one dressed differently than the others. Instead of the robes like the others, she seemed to wear an apron over her robe. The part of her she remembered wanted to respond with a snarky yet witty statement, but the rest of her was still to confused and adjusting to bother with that response.
“Bad dreams,” Buffy said by way of explanation as she slowly lowered herself into a seated position on the bed, careful to keep her hands and arms free. Just in case they wanted to do her harm. Not that she was physically up to the task, but the intent was there.
Her response seemed to startle the woman who had spoken, though she recovered quickly. “Well. I’m Madam Pomfrey, in charge of the healing wing here at Hogwarts. I’ll need to examine you in a little bit, once you are fully awake.”
The words didn’t make any sense to Buffy, though she nodded anyway. Best pretend to understand what was happening around her, until she could figure out what happened. And why. When she made no other response to the woman, an awkward silence falling between her, Madam Pomfrey, and the other two, Pomfrey said, “Well. I’ll let you wake up a bit then. If I think either of you are causing her distress before I have a chance to examine her, you are both out.”
It took Buffy a minute to realize Pomfrey was talking to the other two who had accompanied her. The taller of the two ducked his head and replied meekly, “We’ll behave.”
Pomfrey pursed her lips before turning around and walking away from Buffy’s bed, keeping the curtain half-open as she did. The two boys looked at each other a moment before the taller of the two - who Buffy realized as the Spare - asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Where am I?” she asked, instead of responding to question. She adjusted slightly in her position on the bed, thankful that at least this place did not believe in the embarrassment of hospital gowns. When the two looked at each other, she pressed. “She said Hogwarts. Where is that?”
“Scotland,” the younger of the two responded. Harry, she thought was his name. Still, the ability to remember his name was overshadowed by his response. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she responded weakly, “Scotland?”
“Where did you come from? Are you a Muggle?” Harry asked, blurting out the second one. The Spare - and she really needed to figure out his name - nudged him sharply in the ribs, causing Harry to wince at the impact. Not wanting to explain where she’d come from, since ‘Hi, I was pulled out of Heaven” wasn’t the best conversation started, she asked instead, “What’s a Muggle?”
Silence greeted her question until the Spare replied slowly, “A non-magic being. That’s what wizards call ordinary people.”
“Well, not an ordinary person, so can’t really be a Muggle,” Buffy replied flippantly, though it took more energy than expected to pull the old confidence she once had. Exhaustion began to tug at her, her body requiring rest after the force of the resurrection spell. But she needed to stay awake, just a little bit longer. She needed more answers, needed to know who these wizards were.
Needed to know if they could send her back.
For all of her efforts, it could seem the two could tell she was starting to face. The Spare turned to her and said firmly, “We won’t let harm come to you. No matter what the Minister orders, I know what you did for me. I know you took the Killing Curse and lived.”
“What are your names?” Buffy asked as she slumped back against her pillow, fighting to stay awake. She didn’t know what Minister they were talking about or what the Killing Curse was, but they seemed important. But she was just so tired.
The boys had the grace to blush. “I’m Cedric, and that’s Harry. “What’s your name?”
“Buffy,” she said, her eyes closing at the response. As she faded away from the world, allowing her dreams to overtake her once again, she vaguely saw the boys staring at each other again, both looking determined. About what, she couldn’t tell.
Characters: Buffy Summers, Harry Potter, Madam Pomfrey, Cedric Diggory
Rating: PG
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1,347
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Harry Potter.
Summary: Buffy wakes up to a strange new world
Notes: Seems like I'm having a bit of an off month. Anyway, sequel to Save the Spare - http://31daysoffandom.livejournal.com/30863.html
The being that was once Buffy Summers was content. Happy. Euphoric.
The world - and it was not really that - was unlike her mortal life. Time meant nothing in this realm, form was no longer necessary. All around her she could feel the love of those she had known in her life, all the people she loved and some she had failed. But there were no regret in this realm, no guilt, no loss. Those she had loved and felt like she failed embraced her in their warmth, unconditional love and forgiveness covering her, allowing her to let go of the difficulties she had during her mortal life.
She was finished with her job and this realm was her reward.
The realm was light around her, light in a spectrum so white the human eye could not handle the luminescence. Each soul was part of that white light, each radiating devotion and care that was tenfold what it had been during their mortal life. The feelings were richer here, more pronounced.
The realm was peace.
Suddenly, a tear developed in the fabric of the realm. A wisp of power so dark, it dampened the brightness of the light, allowing a tendril of fear and anger to enter. Confusion filled those around the tear, their filaments of light vacating the nearby premise, distancing themselves from that bit of dark. Buffy moved away, only for the power to reach out and claw into her own bit of white light, polluting the color.
Limbs she no longer had seemed to grasp at open space, unable to gain traction as the power pulled her out of the realm. She could feel the love of her friends and family, and the love of her mother, attempting to keep her in the rightful space, but they were powerless as she was dragged along, her form already gaining the look it had in life. Arms, legs, the shape of her body, ears, mouth, nose, eyes…all the things she had already forgotten during her short time in this heaven. As her eyes once again formed, the glare of the white light of the realm almost blinded her and she opened her mouth, her voice appearing once again as she screamed in terror.
And awoke, fully human, in her casket, buried six feet under
Buffy gasped, pushing herself up with such force she tumbled out of the bed she lay, arms and legs sprawling everywhere as she automatically braced for the impact against the ground, her Slayer abilities already more aware than her normal ones. She landed on her arms and knees, the lower extremities absorbing the force of the hit, though pain shot through her body, adding to the places that were still sore from her desperate crawl out of the grave.
The memories of the experience hit her, fresh in their pain. She blinked back tears, her eyes still blurry from the last moments in heaven, from the glare of the white light the mortal body was not meant to experience.
Already she missed it.
A noise to her left had her automatically pushing herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily as she used limbs that were still adjusting to being in human form once again. Even with her vision problems - clearing up faster than she had expected - she could not help but blink in incomprehension at the people that pushed aside a heavy privacy curtain to see her.
They were wearing robes.
And they had sticks in their hands.
Something about the stick was familiar to her, in this experience and not her prior one, from what she witnessed after her resurrection. The ones she remembered were fighting, maybe? It seemed that way, at least, though really, she was fuzzy on what had occurred.
“You’re awake,” said one of the people, the one dressed differently than the others. Instead of the robes like the others, she seemed to wear an apron over her robe. The part of her she remembered wanted to respond with a snarky yet witty statement, but the rest of her was still to confused and adjusting to bother with that response.
“Bad dreams,” Buffy said by way of explanation as she slowly lowered herself into a seated position on the bed, careful to keep her hands and arms free. Just in case they wanted to do her harm. Not that she was physically up to the task, but the intent was there.
Her response seemed to startle the woman who had spoken, though she recovered quickly. “Well. I’m Madam Pomfrey, in charge of the healing wing here at Hogwarts. I’ll need to examine you in a little bit, once you are fully awake.”
The words didn’t make any sense to Buffy, though she nodded anyway. Best pretend to understand what was happening around her, until she could figure out what happened. And why. When she made no other response to the woman, an awkward silence falling between her, Madam Pomfrey, and the other two, Pomfrey said, “Well. I’ll let you wake up a bit then. If I think either of you are causing her distress before I have a chance to examine her, you are both out.”
It took Buffy a minute to realize Pomfrey was talking to the other two who had accompanied her. The taller of the two ducked his head and replied meekly, “We’ll behave.”
Pomfrey pursed her lips before turning around and walking away from Buffy’s bed, keeping the curtain half-open as she did. The two boys looked at each other a moment before the taller of the two - who Buffy realized as the Spare - asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Where am I?” she asked, instead of responding to question. She adjusted slightly in her position on the bed, thankful that at least this place did not believe in the embarrassment of hospital gowns. When the two looked at each other, she pressed. “She said Hogwarts. Where is that?”
“Scotland,” the younger of the two responded. Harry, she thought was his name. Still, the ability to remember his name was overshadowed by his response. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she responded weakly, “Scotland?”
“Where did you come from? Are you a Muggle?” Harry asked, blurting out the second one. The Spare - and she really needed to figure out his name - nudged him sharply in the ribs, causing Harry to wince at the impact. Not wanting to explain where she’d come from, since ‘Hi, I was pulled out of Heaven” wasn’t the best conversation started, she asked instead, “What’s a Muggle?”
Silence greeted her question until the Spare replied slowly, “A non-magic being. That’s what wizards call ordinary people.”
“Well, not an ordinary person, so can’t really be a Muggle,” Buffy replied flippantly, though it took more energy than expected to pull the old confidence she once had. Exhaustion began to tug at her, her body requiring rest after the force of the resurrection spell. But she needed to stay awake, just a little bit longer. She needed more answers, needed to know who these wizards were.
Needed to know if they could send her back.
For all of her efforts, it could seem the two could tell she was starting to face. The Spare turned to her and said firmly, “We won’t let harm come to you. No matter what the Minister orders, I know what you did for me. I know you took the Killing Curse and lived.”
“What are your names?” Buffy asked as she slumped back against her pillow, fighting to stay awake. She didn’t know what Minister they were talking about or what the Killing Curse was, but they seemed important. But she was just so tired.
The boys had the grace to blush. “I’m Cedric, and that’s Harry. “What’s your name?”
“Buffy,” she said, her eyes closing at the response. As she faded away from the world, allowing her dreams to overtake her once again, she vaguely saw the boys staring at each other again, both looking determined. About what, she couldn’t tell.