Title: Champion Industries
Author: Arieanna ([email protected])
Pairing: No way, not telling yet!
Genre: HP/BtVS/AtS crossover
Spoilers: The entire series run of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, all four as yet seasons of Angel and all of the Harry Potter books, including Order of the Phoenix.
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, All Buffy and Angel peeps are courtesy of the JossGod and Mutant Enemy. All Potter folk are from the super imaginative, had me standing in line for hours for OotP, mind of J.K. Rowling. And her publishing company and whoever else. Most definitely NOT mine. Or I'd be rich
Distribution: TTH. FF.net. And, if you want it, just ask me!! I love to share!
A/N: I know, I know, I have other stories on the go. But after reading OotP, and a multitude of excellent crossovers, this plot bunny bit me and just would not let go until I started writing my first HP/Buffy cross. It all started with the idea of Xander calling him J.J. and spun out of control from there. Feedback is appreciated, begged for, lived on. It's like air!


Champion Industries: Prologue
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It was a typical late summer afternoon in California. Heat shimmered off of the pavement at L.A.X., distorting his view of the cars that surrounded him. He was waiting in the loading zone, barely believing he'd been talked into this. She'd even tried to get him to come inside with her, but he had adamantly refused.

It was bad enough that he was sitting in the car waiting for them. Them! Of all of the helpless people out there, why did it have to be them? He understood the way things worked. It wasn't their choice which missions they got saddled with. They just got handed the jobs from their bosses.

They were the new jobs, whether he liked it or not. He most definitely did not. But here he was, waiting to pick them up. After their airplane trip, of all modes of transportation.

He was annoyed with the whole affair. He could have stayed back at the hotel, poolside, but no. Here he was, playing chauffeur.

At least she was letting him drive the car. And they had taken the convertible. That alone was enough of a reason that he had reluctantly agreed to accompany the girl. That, and the fact that she could manage to talk him into anything. After all, it was her powers of persuasion that were mostly responsible for the way that he now looked.

Not that he looked unusual for what he was. Or at least, for what he appeared to be. He looked like any number of other California teenagers, waiting at the airport to pick up friends or family. No, the only people that he would stand out with would be anyone he had ever known. Anyone he had lived around before he had found himself in California, and thrust into the life of his present companion and her friends.

His appearance didn't even turn heads. He wore black jeans, with the customary silver chain to keep his wallet in place. Combat boots. Silver shirt, the sleeves short in deference to the summer heat. Even the things that set him apart weren't overly eye catching. A metal bar stuck diagonally through the cartilage of one ear. Black sunglasses. Black, brown and red chunks blended into the natural silver-blonde of his hair. A flaming heart tattooed on his forearm with a silver railroad spike driven through it. He had gotten the tat that matched one that his companion bore very recently.

They had gone to get them on his birthday, it's placement on him assuring that no other mark would ever grace that spot.

Yes, he looked like your typical American. Your everyday, angst ridden, teenaged American.

It was that that would surprise them. The people that comprised their newest job. The fact that he fit in so well here, a place he should have hated.

And he was quite sure that they would be shocked to the core if they ever realized that he liked fitting in.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She paced outside the international arrivals gate, her anxiety increasing every minute.

The flight had been delayed, she had little clue as to what the people she was waiting for looked like, and they had to get home without her sister realizing that she had let him drive the car.

She had had a terrible time trying to convince him to come and help her with the first part of their new assignment, and had used the car as a bribe.

It had been decided that it would be less conspicuous if the teen picked them up. She would go to the airport, acting for all the world like she was meeting old friends. She hoped that her companion's descriptions, vague though they were, were good enough that when she threw herself into the arms of one of the foursome as part of the cover, that it was the right foursome.

She had convinced him to come with her for authenticity's sake. If he hadn't stayed in the car, he would have known them instantly. After all, they really were old friends of his. Well, old schoolmates, at any rate. And saying that they had been old enemies would have been far more appropriate.

But it was more fun this way, she had to admit. With him waiting in the car, she'd be able to fully focus on their reactions when they first saw him again.

The better part of a year could bring about a lot of changes, and boy had the time changed him.

Judging by his appearance, he had changed a lot, and they would be able to see it right away. But the significantly greater change in him was within. Gone was the one time snobbish brat that had been their rival. In his place was someone completely altered by the time away from them.

The girl ran a hand trough her multicolored hair, shaking the length back behind her shoulders. It was mostly brown, but the red, blonde and black in it caught the light, and the attention of those around her. It earned her a second glance by more than one passer-by.

That and the clothes that she wore, of course.

A white baby T-shirt with the words 'Lil' Bit' blazing across her chest in blood red bared a fair amount of her midriff. The strip of skin left uncovered showed a shiny ring through her navel at the front, and a tattoo at the small of her back, a copy of the one that adorned her companion.

Her pants were baggy cargoes, held up by black suspenders. A black messenger bag was slung over one shoulder and her chest to rest on the opposite hip. Clunky black boots shod her feet. At the moment, those feet were shuffling back and forth with impatience.

It was then that the tinny airport speakers rang out. "Flight 1013, from London via New York now landing."

The voice continued to drone on, but she was no longer listening. She was busy preparing herself for the moment of truth. She hoped to the Gods that she didn't mess up her first unsupervised assignment.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the announcement rang over the speakers in the terminal, the group of four that the Americans teen was expecting was unloading their carry on luggage from the overhead compartments.

Not that they had a lot of things with them. Most all of their possessions were in the cargo hold, in the trunks that they had packed just days before, fully expecting to be returning to their school, three of the four for their final year, at the end of the week.

They had not been expecting to fly, on a plane, halfway around the world to stay with a group of American strangers for who knew how long.

Most of their small group had never been in a plane before, and were surprised at how tiring of a trip it had been. People really traveled like this?

The group hoped that they would be able to just rest when they got where they were going. There would be time to grill their hosts for information after they felt human again.

The dark-haired boy of the group had nothing but resentment in his heart for the turn his life had taken in the last few days.

Why now? It wasn't as if the danger that they were running from, hiding from, was a new danger. He'd lived with that danger looming over him for his entire life.

Why now was the place that he had thought of as home since his first year there not enough to protect him? How could these people be better at protecting him than the headmaster and the others, who had been doing an admirable job at just that so far?

Their sixth year had passed with little incident, surprisingly enough. So why wouldn't their seventh?

Had that just been the calm before the storm? Did they know something that he did not? Was there an increasing threat that they had not informed him about?

Either way, it made the green eyed boy angry. If he was in greater danger than that with which he was usually faced, he and his friends should have been told. They should have been involved in the decisions that had wrought such great and sudden changes in their lives.

If not, then they had pulled the group of them from school, and sent them a half a world away from everything they knew, for no reason at all.

Not only that, but they had ruined what was supposed to be one of the greatest years of his young life.

The boy and his best friends had been dreaming of this year since the beginning of school, and they would miss it. There would be no playing on the team, no captain's position, no graduating with their friends. No chance to achieve the things that they had been waiting to achieve.

Whatever the case, he was resentful. He had thought that they understood. That he had come to an age where they would trust him to make decisions about his own life. Apparently that was not the case.

The anger within him, the kind of anger he had first felt last summer, nearly scorched him with its heat. This would be a terrible year.

The only little bit of silver lining he could find was that they wouldn't have to face it in the company of any of the snakes.