August 2 - Souls (BtVS/HP)
Title: Souls
Author: GlitterAngelEm
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter
Characters: Dawn Summers, Garrick Ollivander
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,091
Notes: According to Pottermore, Ollivander had a daughter that died in or before 2011. I took the "before 2011" and ran with it. Not sure about this fic, but going with it.
It was not at all imposing, really, what with the peeling gold letters on the sign and the dusty pillow holding a single wand in the window. Dawn had been in all kinds of magic shops before and most were much more majestic than the singular one in front of her, their magical signature purposefully stronger than the small store in front of her.
And yet.
There was just a hint, a promise, of power that caused Dawn to falter in her footsteps and pause. Without even questioning how she came about the knowledge, she knew without any hesitation that the power here was different than the type with which she usually dealt. There was a newly tamed wildness about it, as if the magic within was tinkered with just enough to not be truly wild. As if the magic was merely waiting for a person who would imprint their own magic onto the device.
Which it was. But most would not have that knowledge.
Taking a nervous breath, Dawn silently pulled together all her nerve and opened the door slowly, marveling at the smoothness of the movement as the door opened. A bell chimed, though she could not see anything that would have set it off. As she stepped fully into the shop, the door closing behind her to leave her standing in a slight gloomy room with low light, she could not help but wring her hands nervously, wondering if this really had been the right decision.
As a man stepped out from a side room and into the main store, her breath hitched and instantly, she knew the decision had been correct.
It had all started after the fall of Sunnydale, after they had begun rounding up newly called Slayers, after they had reorganized the Watchers Council into a true organization to work with Slayers to fight the darkness of the world. When at last everything began to calm down from the chaos, there was a nagging in the back of her head that Dawn could not shake. While she knew she was fully and truly human, that the Key part of her could no longer be used to open rifts between dimensions, there was something else that bothered her.
Where her soul had originated.
Souls could not just be created, for even as powerful as the Powers That Be where, as powerful as the spell that had forced the Key into a human form, neither could create an actual human soul. Therefore, it stood to reason that the soul of Dawn Summers had once belonged to another. Once explained to Willow in logical terms, the witch had taken the theory and run with it. After all, it was a project that needed not her Magic, but her original researching abilities. Needless to say, the witch had fallen in love with the project and spent every waking out she was not needed for the Watchers Council researching the quandary.
Which was why Dawn now found herself standing in a wand shop, in a hidden part of England, staring upon a man that her soul once considered a father.
The best explanation Willow had was that in order for a soul to fuse fully with the Key, magic was needed. A magical soul was needed, to be specific. And one particular one was passing on when the original spell to create Dawn was cast. That soul was reused to merge the Key into a human form, to create the person now known as Dawn Summers. But strong emotions could never be erased, not from souls.
So when Garrick Ollivander walked into the wand shop to greet what he believed to be a customer, Dawn felt her heart skip a beat. True, she had never met the wizard, the wand-maker, but she knew him. Her soul knew him.
Ollivander stared at her silently for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly at her. “You haven’t come here for a wand, I see. Curious for a non-wand user to visit me.”
Logically, Dawn knew the lack of recognition was expected. After all, how many people had experienced the soul of a loved one being reused for another person. Emotionally, she could feel herself blinking back the sudden influx of tears, the heart wrenching pain of being abandoned again threatening to clog her throat. Clearing her throat, she started to say “I just…you know. Wands are cool and I figured I could learn about them…”
Her words trailed off, as she flailed without a true excuse. The lies that used to flow so easily off her tongue when Buffy questioned her as a kid refused to come forth to save her. Instead, she could only stare at the man in front of her, looking at the man that felt so much like ‘father’ she wanted to run forward and hug him, feel safe in the arms she knew loved her. But it was only part of her soul that he knew, that he had loved. And that was not the Dawn Summers part of her.
Forcing herself to give him a half shrug, one shoulder coming up as she tilted her head slightly towards it, she said, “Sorry. For intruding on your time and all, since I’m not really a witch. I’ll just go. Out the door. That I came in.”
With one last glance at him, at the person her soul had longed for ever since Willow discovered the truth, Dawn turned to go. Her hand was on the door, ready to pull it open as he called to her, “Wait. Please, don’t leave just yet.”
She turned slowly. He looked at her - really looked at her - his eyes seeming to shine through the dust and darkness of the shop. Her breath hitched the moment his eyes sharpened on her, the moment he took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching questioningly towards her.
“Maggie?” he whispered, his hand shaking. “My dear Maggie. But how…”
And suddenly, Dawn was moving forward, her own outstretched arms shaking as she moved towards him, his own arms automatically opening to embrace her, embrace the daughter he never thought to see again on this plane. Tears fell down Dawn’s cheeks as he hugged her, as she felt the love of a father she had never known since the monks put her into this body. Even as she cried at the feeling, knowing that he would accept her as she was, she couldn’t help but look up at him impishly and whisper, “Magic.”
Author: GlitterAngelEm
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter
Characters: Dawn Summers, Garrick Ollivander
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,091
Notes: According to Pottermore, Ollivander had a daughter that died in or before 2011. I took the "before 2011" and ran with it. Not sure about this fic, but going with it.
It was not at all imposing, really, what with the peeling gold letters on the sign and the dusty pillow holding a single wand in the window. Dawn had been in all kinds of magic shops before and most were much more majestic than the singular one in front of her, their magical signature purposefully stronger than the small store in front of her.
And yet.
There was just a hint, a promise, of power that caused Dawn to falter in her footsteps and pause. Without even questioning how she came about the knowledge, she knew without any hesitation that the power here was different than the type with which she usually dealt. There was a newly tamed wildness about it, as if the magic within was tinkered with just enough to not be truly wild. As if the magic was merely waiting for a person who would imprint their own magic onto the device.
Which it was. But most would not have that knowledge.
Taking a nervous breath, Dawn silently pulled together all her nerve and opened the door slowly, marveling at the smoothness of the movement as the door opened. A bell chimed, though she could not see anything that would have set it off. As she stepped fully into the shop, the door closing behind her to leave her standing in a slight gloomy room with low light, she could not help but wring her hands nervously, wondering if this really had been the right decision.
As a man stepped out from a side room and into the main store, her breath hitched and instantly, she knew the decision had been correct.
It had all started after the fall of Sunnydale, after they had begun rounding up newly called Slayers, after they had reorganized the Watchers Council into a true organization to work with Slayers to fight the darkness of the world. When at last everything began to calm down from the chaos, there was a nagging in the back of her head that Dawn could not shake. While she knew she was fully and truly human, that the Key part of her could no longer be used to open rifts between dimensions, there was something else that bothered her.
Where her soul had originated.
Souls could not just be created, for even as powerful as the Powers That Be where, as powerful as the spell that had forced the Key into a human form, neither could create an actual human soul. Therefore, it stood to reason that the soul of Dawn Summers had once belonged to another. Once explained to Willow in logical terms, the witch had taken the theory and run with it. After all, it was a project that needed not her Magic, but her original researching abilities. Needless to say, the witch had fallen in love with the project and spent every waking out she was not needed for the Watchers Council researching the quandary.
Which was why Dawn now found herself standing in a wand shop, in a hidden part of England, staring upon a man that her soul once considered a father.
The best explanation Willow had was that in order for a soul to fuse fully with the Key, magic was needed. A magical soul was needed, to be specific. And one particular one was passing on when the original spell to create Dawn was cast. That soul was reused to merge the Key into a human form, to create the person now known as Dawn Summers. But strong emotions could never be erased, not from souls.
So when Garrick Ollivander walked into the wand shop to greet what he believed to be a customer, Dawn felt her heart skip a beat. True, she had never met the wizard, the wand-maker, but she knew him. Her soul knew him.
Ollivander stared at her silently for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly at her. “You haven’t come here for a wand, I see. Curious for a non-wand user to visit me.”
Logically, Dawn knew the lack of recognition was expected. After all, how many people had experienced the soul of a loved one being reused for another person. Emotionally, she could feel herself blinking back the sudden influx of tears, the heart wrenching pain of being abandoned again threatening to clog her throat. Clearing her throat, she started to say “I just…you know. Wands are cool and I figured I could learn about them…”
Her words trailed off, as she flailed without a true excuse. The lies that used to flow so easily off her tongue when Buffy questioned her as a kid refused to come forth to save her. Instead, she could only stare at the man in front of her, looking at the man that felt so much like ‘father’ she wanted to run forward and hug him, feel safe in the arms she knew loved her. But it was only part of her soul that he knew, that he had loved. And that was not the Dawn Summers part of her.
Forcing herself to give him a half shrug, one shoulder coming up as she tilted her head slightly towards it, she said, “Sorry. For intruding on your time and all, since I’m not really a witch. I’ll just go. Out the door. That I came in.”
With one last glance at him, at the person her soul had longed for ever since Willow discovered the truth, Dawn turned to go. Her hand was on the door, ready to pull it open as he called to her, “Wait. Please, don’t leave just yet.”
She turned slowly. He looked at her - really looked at her - his eyes seeming to shine through the dust and darkness of the shop. Her breath hitched the moment his eyes sharpened on her, the moment he took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching questioningly towards her.
“Maggie?” he whispered, his hand shaking. “My dear Maggie. But how…”
And suddenly, Dawn was moving forward, her own outstretched arms shaking as she moved towards him, his own arms automatically opening to embrace her, embrace the daughter he never thought to see again on this plane. Tears fell down Dawn’s cheeks as he hugged her, as she felt the love of a father she had never known since the monks put her into this body. Even as she cried at the feeling, knowing that he would accept her as she was, she couldn’t help but look up at him impishly and whisper, “Magic.”