Per Celare

By: Caz92 (chap 1-5 by becks92)
Rating: Pg-13
Disclaimer: you think I own Anything then your crazy cuase meI own nothing

Summary: After Buffy sends Angel to hell, she runs away to LA. Joyce and her former best friend Giles from Hogwarts are in a desperate search for Buffy…if they do not find her…she could die because of a potion designed to keep Buffy under disguise from her real father. But Buffy doesn’t know this, and her real father doesn’t know who his daughter REALLY is…

Timeline: Just after Season 2, after Book 5.

Note: Sirius is NOT dead… I repeat…he is not dead! and me i'm continuing becks89's story and she has given her approval and will beta read me when I do my own chapters.Per Celare means to conceal in Italian just so youknow. Becks has alredy done six chapters and after that I willcontinue writhing myself

Becks89 thanks again

Chapter 1: Damn Prophecy

The circular room was large and gloomy, the torches glowing softly in the black, the blue flames reflecting on the marble. The room was filled with doors, black and ordinary, and Buffy pushed through one randomly, not recognising the place, but knowing where to go. She entered another room, the ceiling was high and shelves towered above her. On the shelves were orbs, dust collecting on the top of them.

The master will rise…

There was another flash and Buffy was standing below an orb which was high above her head, this one glowing as if it was something special. She stretched up and touched it, and a voice rang out, the same one who said something about rising.

And the slayer will die…

There was another flash, and the orb was in her hand, glimmering softly, the dust coming off in her cold hands.

No hope left…

There was another flash, and the orb was back on the shelve, and she was not alone. Two boys were looking at the orb, the red haired one taller than the raven haired.

I’m only sixteen years old…

Now the black haired boy was taking down the orb, and Buffy felt a strange feeling in her stomach.

It’s all on the line here kid…

The boys were now surrounding by others, the ones on the outer circle in dark black robes, their bodies covered by thick cloth, eyes glimmering like a cats in the dark. Buffy knew these guys were the bad guys, and she shouted out, but no one could hear her.

You walk out of this house; don’t even think about coming back…

“Give me the prophecy, Potter.” The leader said, his white hand outstretched to the boy holding the orb. They were having an argument now, Buffy could see their lips moving, but she couldn’t hear anything, and no one could hear her.

Step aside little girl…

There was another flash, and Buffy could see a dark haired man fall. People around him were fighting, and a woman next to him was cackling. Buffy rushed to the man, but when she tried to catch him, her fingers slipped through him.

She’ll be safe! Take her! I love you…

There was another flash and she saw a blond haired woman cradling a small baby, a black haired man standing next to her. The woman was crying, and from somewhere inside Buffy, she felt as if she knew this woman.

Joyce, I love you…

There was another flash, and she was in an office, with the same black haired boy she had seen with the orb, and an old man with a white beard she did not recognise. The boy was yelling at the man, and her heart went out to the boy, even though she did not know why.

I’ll never leave, not even if you kill me…

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…

In Los Angeles, in a small apartment, Buffy Summers woke up with a jolt, the dream ending abruptly. She sat up, deep in thought, and then a look of recognition crossed her face, which quickly turned to annoyance.

“Great, another damn prophecy.”

Joyce Summers sat in the dining room, eating her lunch. The table was set for two, but the one she was not using was not occupied. Joyce took a small sip of her water, and looked over to the empty place. A small tear ran down her cheek, and she did not bother to wipe it away. She looked down at her plate, hardly anything had been touched. Sighing, Joyce placed her knife and fork on her plate and carried it to the kitchen, empting the food into the bin and dumping everything else into the sink. Joyce paused, her hands resting on the sink. Another tear escaped her, the salty drop running down to her mouth were she could taste it. The doorbell rang, the bell echoing in the cold and empty house. Joyce looked to the door, a hopeful smile on her face. She quickly wiped away her tears and ran to answer the door.

“Giles.” Joyce’s smile disappears as she opens the door to let in her visitor.

“How you been?” Giles asked his eye catching sight of a picture of Buffy, his smile weakening.

“Did you-“

“No.” Giles sat down on a chair and Joyce took a place opposite him.

“But I thought-“

“No.” Giles cut Joyce off again, his line of sight on his shoes.

“Are you even getting close?” Giles shook his head. “But we need to find her. If she-“

“I know what happens.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Joyce said angrily, standing up again, glaring at Giles. “If she doesn’t come home soon, she could die.”

“I am well aware of this.”

“She needs the potion, it’s been two weeks since she last took it, it won’t be long until she will go into a coma.”

“How long?”

“A week at the most.” Joyce said quietly, sitting down on the couch.

“Have you called-“

“Not yet.”

“He needs to know.”

Joyce nodded, admitting the truth. “But I haven’t called him since I left.”

“He needs to know.” Giles got up from his chair and moved over to Joyce, resting a hand on her back.

“I know.” Tears fell again, and Giles handed her a tissue from the box on the table, it was almost empty. “He’s going to be mad at you.” Joyce added. Giles smiled wryly.

“He always did have a short fuse.” Giles admitted, chuckling. Joyce smiled.

“He’s going to be upset though, after all we did to keep her normal, she’s a slayer.” Joyce sighed, this comment reminding her of everything she did to keep her baby safe.

Giles looked at her, brushing a lock of hair out from her eyes. “Why did you react like you did?”

Joyce sighed. “I was in shock. I mean, we learnt about this stuff at Hogwarts, but I never thought it would happen to me.”

“It happened to Buffy, not you.”

“But still, after everything we did, giving her the potion, taking her away from England, she becomes the slayer. Fighting evil, risking herself everyday, doing the things I did not want her doing.” Joyce paused, thinking about that day when her daughter told her off her true self. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Joyce asked angrily, her body twisting to look at Giles.

He sighed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. “The Council did not want me too. The Council and the Ministry have never been on good terms, and the Council felt that telling you would interfere with her destiny.”

“She’s my baby. And you were my best friend. You could have told me!”

“I wanted to.” Giles reassured, even though he knew that this was not helping her. “But I couldn’t. I was under strict orders. Remember, I’m not part of the wizarding world anymore.”

Joyce nodded. “Stupid bloody Death Eater.” She said, leaning her head on Giles’ shoulders.

“Stupid bloody Hufflepuff.” Was Giles’ response.

Chapter 2: Anne

“Anne? Anne? Are you listening to me?” Buffy shook herself out of her reverie and smiled sweetly up to her boss, Mac. She hadn’t been listening, and she still was not used to that name, Anne.

“Sorry boss, what’s up?” Buffy asked, sitting down on one of the stools.

“Don’t sit down kid, there’s a customer.” Sighing, he walked away from her, shaking her head and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘damn kids’. Buffy rolled her eyes and hopped off the stool. The moment her feet touched the ground, she wished she hadn’t hopped off. Pain vibrated up her legs all the way to her head and she gripped the handle of the chair, squeezing it tightly because it hurt so much. She had been feeling a lot like this lately, and she knew it was nothing to do with what she was eating, or how she was walking. At any moment, when Buffy was not expecting it, pain engulfed her body and she was left numb for a few seconds. Buffy let go of the metal handle, the pain subsiding. She glanced at it and smirked; the tough metal handle now had her hand imprint in it.

She carefully walked to the customer, the numbness not going away completely, but if she messed around much, her boss would fire her, and she needed the money. Really badly.

“How can I help you sir?” She asked the customer, taking out her notepad and pen, ready to take down his order. The man in front of her growled and Buffy tensed, looking at the man properly, the growl reminding her of a vampire. But, hello, daylight? But the man was odd looking anyway; he wore a large black bowler hat which covered his face from view. He also wore a large black coat and Buffy swore she could see a wooden leg poking out from under the wooden table. She looked back up to the man’s face and gasped in surprise. The man was looking at her, a small smile on his wooden face. His features were plain, his skin tough-looking and his mouth was only a small slit in his face. But his eyes were what threw Buffy off. One was a small black beady one, calmly looking at Buffy, but the other one was large and round electric blue eye, which was fixed on Buffy, occasionally rolling to one side and then fixing back to Buffy again.

“What you staring at kid?” He asked in a gruff English accent, but his accent was not like Giles in any way, it was rough and sharp, not like Giles’ posh one. The man glared at Buffy, and she glared right back, putting her hands on her hip for extra effect. The man made a little noise, which Buffy assumed was a laugh and he raised his eyebrow.

“You not scared of me girl?” He asked gruffly.

Buffy smirked. “What’s there to be scared of?” She was right; she had seen more horrifying things in her life to be scared of this guy. The guy made the noise again.

“I like you kid.” He growled, but Buffy knew it was meant to be friendly.

“So I’ll get a bigger tip then?” She asked hopefully, sticking her bottom lip out a little for more effect. The man made the noise again and nodded.

“What’s your name kid?”

Buffy paused, not because she was scared to giving the man her name, it was right on her nametag, but because the pain was coming back now and it was stronger than ever. She gasped and dropped her notepad and pen and grabbed the table, leaning down on it and breathing intensely. The man seemed shocked by this action, but he got over it and asked if she was alright. Buffy shook her head no and arched her back, wincing in pain, tears coming out of her eyes. Customers and waiters were looking at her now, confused expressions on their faces. The man asked her what was wrong, but she leaned down again on the table, the pain filling every each of her body making it seem as if she was on fire. The pain was so intense that she held the table tighter, and a large chunk of it came off when she tightened her grip. The man looked at her in astonishment, but she took no notice. She threw her head back and screamed a loud long yell and then she collapsed to the floor, choking out one word before she fell unconscious.


Joyce breathed in and out steadily, standing in front of her plain fireplace, holding a small amount of floo powder in her sweaty hand. She had not been to this man’s place in almost seventeen years, and she was excited but nervous of seeing him again. Nervous and excited?

Joyce had always been hooked up to the floo system, ever since she had left England all those years ago. She was going to see him. She had to see him. She had to see Buffy’s real father.

Taking a deep breath, she threw the powder into the lit fire, stood inside it and shouted her destination.

Joyce stepped out of the fireplace elegantly, brushing off a little soot and fixing her hair into place. She had to look good when she saw him again. She still had feelings for him; they hadn’t disappeared over the years even though he had. Or rather, she had.

The room was cold and gloomy; plenty of light shone through the barred window, but the room, adorned with black furniture was still depressing. Joyce shivered, rubbing her hands on her arms. She walked away from the fireplace, looking at the books on its shelves, the potion ingredients and desk filled with papers. She smiled. Hasn’t changed a bit.

Joyce was about to turn away from the desk, but a picture frame caught her eye. The frame was small, black shiny pebbles were stuck to the frame, but it was the picture that caught Joyce’s eye. It showed a baby, very young, about six months or so, smiling in a young woman’s arms.

It was her. A picture Joyce and Buffy, before they had left to California. Tears formed in Joyce’s eyes and she picked up the frame, stroking it lovingly.

“I can’t believe he kept this.” She whispered.

“You think I would have forgotten you?” A voice said behind her. Joyce gasped in surprise and spun round, almost dropping the picture.

She smiled, he hadn’t changed a bit. His hair was a bit shorter, there were lines on his face now, and he had a sense of sadness about him, but he hadn’t changed. He was still hers.

“How are you?” She asked, regretting it the moment it left her lips. What a stupid question! I show up after seventeen years and ask how he is?

He raised an eyebrow, “Surprised, but I’m coping efficiently. Why are you here-not that I’m not glad to see you, because I am, but-“

Joyce smiled, reaching up with her hand to touch his cheek, stroking it tenderly. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

He grinned, reminding Joyce of a younger version of her former lover. “How is my daughter?” Joyce’s face fell, and her hand withdrew from her former lovers face. She stepped away from him and turned, not wanting to see his face when she told him.

“She’s in trouble. She’s a slayer-“Joyce heard the man’s sharp intake of breath, “and she ran away.”

The man felt a lump forming in his throat, and a sense of fear and worry for the daughter he hadn’t seen for many years, but had stayed in his thoughts the moment he had laid eyes on her.

“How long?”

“Three weeks.”

Joyce heard him gasp again, and a salty tear rolled down her cheek.

“We have to find her, where do you think she’ll be? Does Hank know anywhere?” He asked, his brow furrowed. Joyce looked down to the picture in her hands, stroking the face of her daughter. Where are you, my baby?

“Hank and I divorced a couple of years ago.”

He curled his hands into a fist, digging his nails in deep into his skin so hard it drew blood. “I never liked him.” He growled. Joyce smirked and turned to face him.

“You never did like my previous boyfriends.” She joked, smiling even more when he nodded.

“Your mine.” He said, moving closer to her. “Always have been.” He pressed his head to hers, “and you always will be, and so is my daughter.”

Chapter 3: Hospital

Buffy woke up in a warm comfortable bed, the covers drawn up to her shoulders. She sighed; she did not want to wake up just yet. This was perfect, pure bliss, being pain free for the first time in two weeks.


Buffy’s eyes popped and she looked to the side. There, sitting there in the same bowler hat and large duster was the man at the café, looking expectantly up at her.

“How do you know my name?” Buffy demanded, tensing. She may feel weak at this very moment, but she knew she was still stronger than an ordinary man, especially this man.

He made the funny laughing noise again, and held out his hand to her, it was rough, and Buffy glanced at it suspiciously before accepting his hand.

“Do you have a name?” Buffy asked. The man considered it for a second, inclining his head to look at Buffy.

“Alastor. You may call me Alastor.”

Buffy smiled, liking this man even more than she had before. “How do you know my name, Alastor?” She asked.

“I brought you into the hospital kid. They checked in the criminal records for your name.” Buffy looked down in shame, hating the fact that Alastor was probably judging her on her criminal record. Alastor caught her shame and tapped her on the shoulder, trying to be comforting, but failing miserably. “It’s pretty long kid, but I ain’t judging on that, do not worry.” Alastor smiled, the slit in his face tilting up. Buffy smiled, saying ‘thank you’. Alastor stood up, bowing and tilting his hat to Buffy; which Buffy laughed at, and bid her good day, Buffy doing the same also. With that, he left Buffy to her own thoughts, the room silent.

It had been a whirlwind of weeks-screw that, months. And Buffy knew exactly when things had gotten bad. When she had slept with Angel, thereby making him experience perfect happiness and loosing his soul. In a way, it was sweet and touching that Buffy was his moment of perfect bliss, but then, Buffy was reminded of the hellish months that followed. Heartbreak, losing people you love and hold dear. It was hell, those months. And it finished in a big bang. Her mother kicking her out of the house, and the worst part, she sent her first love to hell.

The moment she had found out that Angel had turned evil-she had known deep down that she had to kill him. When she had faced the Judge and had tried to kill him, she had found that she had so much love for Angel that she couldn’t. But she knew she had to. The face still reminded her of him, of his angelic qualities, of the vampire she loved with all her heart. She had known it would take time to stop loving him, it would take time to learn how to kill him, but by the time she had faced Angelus in the mansion, she had learned enough to know that this man was not Angel. He was Angelus, an evil vampire, and Angel was never coming back.

Buffy had been ready then, to kill Angelus-but that curse. That curse made her falter. She remembered it as if it had happened yesterday, one moment they had been fighting, the next, he was her Angel. The one she had loved; the one she still loved. The moment that he had regained his soul, she had paused. Would it have been so bad not to kill him? I love him so much; I don’t think I would be able to. But then Buffy had looked behind him, and had seen Acathla opening, and she knew that she had to kill him. It was her duty, her destiny, and destiny didn’t take excuses from young girls in love.

After that, Buffy had run. When she had started, she didn’t know where she was going to end up, but she knew she had to get away from Sunnydale. Too many memories, too many people she knew…she had to get away. So Buffy had packed a bag, written a note to her mother and had taken the bus out of Sunnydale, into the big city of Los Angeles. And there she had stayed, using the money she had to rent an apartment in the backstreets of LA, paying the rent with the money she earned at the café. She barely had money to eat; the meal they offered free at the café was the only thing she had to satisfy her hunger.

There was of course the issue of slaying. She saw vampires on the streets when she walked back to her apartment at night, but she had turned a blind eye on it. In her opinion, The Powers That Be had asked too much of her. First, she had to die at the hands of the Master, she had to suffer through all the hell that all the demons and vampires had put her through, and then she had to kill Angel. No, this slayer was hanging up her hat. Kendra had died; another slayer would have been called, so they can take up the job. Let them be the ones everyone depended on, everyone turned to when they needed help.

Buffy did not feel selfish. She did not think her actions were selfish. For two years she had been thinking of everyone BUT herself. That was enough. It was time for a little Buffy time.

Buffy just wanted to be normal.


“Mrs Summers?” Joyce looked for the owner of the voice, and sighed in relief when she found it. The woman at the desk was petite, with red hair and a kind smile. Joyce motioned for her former lover, Buffy’s real father to follow her, and he scowled. Joyce had forgotten how much he hated muggle hospitals. Joyce had given birth to Buffy in a muggle hospital, because of complications the father was in. The scowl he wore on his face was the exact same one he wore all those years ago.

“Hello, yes I am Mrs Summers.” Joyce said, smiling back at the woman.

The woman nodded and looked at her computer, her eyes searching for something. She pressed a couple of keys on the computer, and Buffy’s father’s scowl grew. He hated not knowing what was going on. He just wanted to see his daughter. Joyce had told him that she did not know that Hank was not her real father, the wizarding world and the potion ‘Per Celare’.

“Yes, Buffy Anne Summers. She arrived here two days ago, after collapsing at a café in the back streets of LA. A kind man brought her in, Alastor Moody.” His head immediately snapped up, Alastor Moody, the Auror, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. The woman carried on, not noticing his sudden increased interest. “We are not sure what trigged the collapse, we have run a few tests, and we will need your permission to run some more. But other than that, I hear she woke up a couple of hours ago. The man, Alastor has already seen her, he’s left already unfortunately. I think you’ll be able to see her now.” Joyce squealed, reminding him of a school girl, and he took her hand and squeezed it gently, letting her know that even though he did not look it, he was immensely excited.

Joyce and her former lover followed the woman through the halls, doors opening and closing on his left and right, the floor impeccably clean it was almost unnatural. Anticipation grew in his stomach; he had not seen Buffy for almost seventeen years and all he wanted to do was to hold her, touch her, and speak to her about everything, everything that he had done in the past. He wanted to redeem himself in front of her, to make sure that she saw him as a perfect man and not some person who had been to a dark side. He expected Buffy to be obedient, polite and hopefully, an intelligent girl. Just like him.

Before he knew it, the woman had stopped at the last door of the corridor, gesturing with her hands to the door. Joyce muttered thanks, and the woman left, bustling back to work.

Joyce turned to him and took both of his hands in hers. “She’ll love you, just like I d-did.” She reassured. He smiled, but it did not disguise the nervousness displayed across his face. Joyce nodded, and pushed the door open, stepping in gently and motioning for him to follow. With a deep breath and a shake of his shoulders, he stepped through the open doorway and laid eyes upon his daughter.


When Buffy imagined seeing her mother again, she had conjured up fights, shouts and tears. She had imagined that her mother would be angry that she had left and that she would immediately demand for Buffy to give up the slaying. But, after hours of imagining it, she did not think about if Joyce was actually happy to see her. So Buffy was completely surprised when her mother entered the room and flung her arms around her neck, squeezing her tightly as if she never wanted to let go. Eventually, Buffy forgot her surprise and wrapped her arms around her mother, tears falling down her cheeks and dampening her mother’s hair. It was such a comfort having her mother back with her, Buffy had convinced herself previously, when she lay awake in her cold and damp apartment, that her mother would not want her, and would not offer any comfort when she saw her. And Buffy convinced herself that she did not need any comfort, that she was fine and happy not being kissed goodnight or being in her mother’s warm presence.

Having her mother wrap her arms around her was having all of her strength and hope return to her. Buffy knew that the moment her mother had hugged her, everything would be alright. Her mother would take care of her now, her mother would be kind and comforting to her and she would forget everything. She would forget the torment of Angelus and just remember the loving touch of Angel; she would forget the sight of Giles’ bruised face and remember his fatherly words after Buffy had faced the Judge.

“I missed you so much mom,” Buffy choked into her mother’s hair.

“Me too darling,” Joyce said, looking at Buffy, cupping her face in her hands and kissing her daughter’s forehead. “Me too.”

Buffy’s real father stood under the shadow of the door, unnoticed by the young girl in the bed. She was beautiful, soft blonde hair, piercing emerald eyes, a small nose and full red lips. At the sight of Buffy, his heart leapt and settled in his throat, finding it very hard to breathe and trying very hard not to cry with joy. The affection and love that was displayed between mother and daughter was tangible, and for a second, he felt a pang of jealousy. He longed to have a relationship like that with his daughter, but he knew it would take time, and he had to actually meet her first. And that time was now, Joyce was beckoning for him to come out of the shadows.

He obliged and stood at the foot of the bed, staring right into his daughter’s emerald eyes. Joyce broke contact with Buffy and stood next to him, holding his hand, which made Buffy’s eyebrows raise in question.

“Buffy,” Joyce began, “I have many things to tell you. Your honesty with me has made me realise that I should be honest with you.” Buffy’s eyebrow’s rose even further until it was hidden by her blonder hair falling above her forehead. “These things will take time, but one of the most important things I have to tell you about, is your father, Hank. Buffy, Hank is not your real father. This man is.” Buffy’s smile dropped and her gaze settled on her real father, curiosity and a hint of anger visible in her eyes. “He comes from England, and his name is Severus Snape.”

His face was pale, so pale that Buffy was reminded of a vampire. His eyes were piercingly black, a sense of sadness in his eyes. His nose was hooked, and his lips were thin and looked as if they had been frowning for too long.

Chapter 4: Per Celare and Serverus Snape

Buffy was speechless. So this man, this Dracula look alike was her real father? Her mother stuck close to him, a hopeful smile on her face, her hand attached to his one. There was a slight smile on his face as well, but it was less obvious, and it was clear to Buffy that he did not show emotions often.

“Buffy?” Joyce questioned gently as Buffy just stared at Snape.

“Huh?” Whispered Buffy, a dazed expression on her face.

“Severus Snape is your father.” Joyce said again, a worried look flitting across her face.

“Huh.” This time, it was more of a statement.

“Maybe I should go.” Snape offered turning to the door.

“Huh!” This ‘huh’ was an angry protest, and Buffy looked at Snape as if she wanted answers.

“You have questions that you need answering?” Snape questioned carefully, but his patience was wearing thin. He wanted to know what Buffy was thinking, no, forget that, he wanted Buffy to run into his arms and then they could be a proper family again.


“Do you ever say anything else?” Snape bellowed. Joyce laid a hand on his chest, trying to tell him to keep his cool.

“Sometimes.” Buffy replied. “I’m just a bit shocked right now, you know?”

Snape nodded, trying to swallow down his lump of fear that was settled in his throat. “May I ask why?”

Buffy shrugged with her eyes still on Snape. “Just found out my whole life has been a lie. That could shock people.” Snape smirked, even in this serious situation, this girl was trying to be funny. Must get it from me.

Joyce looked horrified and moved away from Snape to sit next to Buffy. “It hasn’t been a lie darling, there are things that just need to be explained, that’s all.”

Buffy nodded, an understanding expression on her face. “Ok, explain.”

Joyce and Snape exchanged looks. “Maybe today is not a perfect time.” Snape commented.

“No. Explain. Now.” Joyce and Snape both nodded, complying with Buffy’s demands.

“Well, I guess it started when we met.” Joyce said, smiling at Snape. “I lived in England at the time, and we went to a school for witches and wizards.”

“What?” Buffy asked, extremely confused.

“There are worlds you know not of Buffy. One of these is a magical world, existing among your own. All those belonging to it have magic in them. We have schools to train the young children into learning how to use this magic; we have our own government that keeps the world away from Muggles-non magical folk. We have our own shops, rules and evil, and your mother and I both belong to that world.”

Buffy made a sound that sounded like ‘oh’ and looked expectantly at her mother, not wishing to comment on the magical world just yet.

Joyce nodded thanks to Snape and carried on. “We met at school, Hogwarts, and we were immediate enemies. An evil wizard was on the rise, and Severus was friends with the people who supported it. Rupert Giles was my best friend at Hogwarts, but after we graduated, he started to support it as well. I however, did not support it, and my hatred for Severus grew. Giles and Snape became Death Eaters, supports of the evil wizard, Voldemort, and I lost contact with Giles altogether. But, one day, shortly after they joined the ranks of the evil wizard, they saved my life and I was once again friends with Giles and Snape and I became lovers. I convinced him to become a spy for the good side, and our relationship was kept a secret. If we were found out, we could both be killed. But then, I found out I was pregnant with his child, and you, Buffy were born. We did not know what to do, even though Severus loved you very much, he could not give up his position as a spy because the information he gained extremely valuable. News circulated that Voldemort knew of our relationship and Snape convinced me to flee to America with you, where I would be safe. We did, and I met Hank, who had also been schooled at Hogwarts. Snape and I told him of our situation, and we married, and the rest is history.” Joyce finished and looked expectantly at Buffy, watching as her daughter processed everything. Finally Buffy nodded, but a question was on her lips.

“But everyone says I look like dad, I mean, Hank.” She informed.

“Perhaps I should explain that.” Snape interrupted, gaining the attention of his daughter.

“Go ahead.” Buffy said, her tone unreadable.

“I now teach at Hogwarts, and I teach Potions. I have passion for making potions, old and ones I make up myself, and that was how I found the potion, Per Celare. Per Celare means to conceal in Italian, and that was what it was designed to do. It is designed to disguise a child from its natural looks, once you drink it, your features are concealed. I used a hair from my head in the potion, and that ensures that when you drink it, the features that belong to me will be replaced by someone else’s, in your case, Hanks. By drinking this potion, you are protected by any Death Eater who wanted to find you.” Snape paused, waiting for all the information to sink in, when it appeared that Buffy had, Snape continued. “Unfortunately, you have to be given this potion twice a week. If you take it less than these times, the potion will have painful side affects. You ran away from home, and your mother could no longer mix it in with your drinks. That is why you have been experiencing pain, and why you are now currently residing in hospital.” Snape finished, taking in a much needed gulp of air.

Potion? Death Eaters, Voldemort, Hogwarts? All this new information kept on buzzing around Buffy’s mind, trying to process everything she had just learnt. She had just found out she was not really Hank Summers’ daughter. That really bothered her, she hated her father, cheating on her mother and not phoning or writing to her when they moved to Sunnydale, but when she was younger, and she loved him. He was the best man she knew, and finding out that she had been lied to was hurtful. Magic and Hogwarts. That wasn’t so difficult to get her head round, after all, she knew about demons and vampires, why wouldn’t there be a world full of magical folk? But it hurt to be kept from this world, when her watcher and her mother knew about it. Voldemort and Death Eaters, she understood that. Voldemort is evil. Evil is bad. Buffy kill Voldemort. All worlds had evil.

“Is Voldymort still around?” Buffy asked bluntly, and Snape had to think about what she said before realising she meant Voldemort. Snape said yes, and told her about Harry Potter and the recent events at the school, including the Ministry and the Order.

Buffy nodded to Snape after he told her about Voldemort. Note to self, Voldemort evil. Buffy kill Voldemort.

Joyce and Snape exchanged glances, both anxious to know what Buffy thought about all of this. They did not expect her to take everything in and accept it, but deep down, they hoped this would happen, it would make everything easier.

“So what do you think about this Buffy?” Joyce asked gently, both parents holding their breath for the answer.

“Whatever.” Buffy said simply, her face devoid of any emotion. Joyce and Snape looked at each other again; it was obvious that Buffy was not ready to speak about it yet. But when she was, they would be ready. “My body hurts.” Buffy whined, and Snape remembered something. He pulled out of his large black coat, a small vial of a clear liquid and gave it to Joyce.

“This is the potion, ‘Per Celare’. When you take this, you will feel better.” Joyce said, giving it to Buffy. Buffy narrowed her eyes at her mother, angrily snatching it and gulping it down. It tasted odd, one moment it tasted like raspberries, then the next, honey, then the next, spinach. Buffy made a face and swallowed the rest and gave the vial back to her mother.

“So you’ve been adding this in my food for seventeen years?” Buffy questioned angrily, giving her mother a ‘slayer’ look, to which Joyce cowered. Joyce nodded and bent her head in shame. “And I’ll have to take this the rest of my life?” Buffy asked Snape.

“Twice a week, for the rest of your life. If you miss more than a week, the effects of the potion will be agony for your body and mind. You will end up in a coma and eventually die, if you stop taking this potion.” Snape informed, not knowing the meaning of tact.

Buffy scowled, reminding Joyce of Snape. “Nice potion, ‘father’.” She spat. Snape flinched, and Joyce reached out for Buffy’s hand. “No! I just want to be alone.” Buffy said, turning to her side, her back facing her parents.

Joyce nodded and left the room, followed closely by Snape.

“Well that went well.” Snape said sarcastically, earning himself a hit on the arm from Joyce.

“She needs time. Just give her time, Snape.”


Never, in a million years would Buffy have expected that. She thought she got a shock when she was approached two years ago and was told she was a slayer. This was different and more shocking on so many more levels. She was not that angry, she was more hurt. She understood that she had to be protected, but would it not hurt to tell her about this? What did they think she was going to do, go to the Death Eaters and tell them that Snape was a good guy?

Snape. Her father. Buffy did not want to think about that right now, he gave her the creeps, reminding her too much of a vampire. She would not be surprised if he lived in a crypt or a dungeon.

Chapter 5: Invitations

Joyce and Snape arrived at Buffy’s hospital room the next morning, refreshed and anxious to know how Buffy had taken it. The previous night Buffy had been angry, and had demanded them to leave, to which they obliged. But hopefully, now that she had had a chance to cool off, she would accept what they had told her. Unfortunately, Buffy decided not to talk about Snape or the potion, she only asked questions about Hogwarts and Voldemort, and what they had learnt at the school.

Joyce told her everything about Hogwarts, the lessons, the teachers and the houses. She told her of Giles and her friends at school, including Hank. Snape told her everything which was happening at the school presently, he told her of Professor Quirrell, the Triwizard Tournament, his Potions classes, the Slytherins and Gryffindors and the last year at Hogwarts, Professor Umbridge and the Ministry of Magic.

Buffy was absolutely fascinated by everything to do with Hogwarts and her mother’s and Snape’s world. It intrigued her, and Buffy found that despite the magic, it was not that different from the world Buffy lived in. There were vampires and demons in both worlds, there was evil in both worlds and just like Fudge and the Ministry who had previously ignored Voldemort, the inhabitants of Sunnydale ignored the mysterious deaths and the demons and creatures that walked the streets at night.

But soon, they ran out of things to talk about and Joyce and Snape made no sign to leave. Buffy knew what they wanted to know, and she knew that it would probably eat them alive if she did not tell them.

“Ask me.”

Joyce looked at her, feigning confusement. “Ask what, dear?”

“What you two are just dying to ask.”

“We have a considerable amount of questions, but I doubt that it would be proper to ask these questions at our current location.” Snape said, looking around the small hospital room.

“Geez, you are so English.” Buffy commented, flicking a strand of blonde hair from her eyes.

“Excuse me?” Snape asked, confused by what she had just said.

“Can’t you lighten up a bit? I mean, will it kill you to not use big words and speak posh?” Buffy asked, smirking. “Does everyone in England speak like you?”

Joyce chuckled, loving the horrified expression on Snape’s face. She doubted that Snape expected Buffy to be as outspoken and blunt as she was.

“Buffy, Snape just speaks like the Queen. Always has done, always will. Remember that vampire, Spike?” Buffy growled at the name, but Joyce carried on. “He has a cockney accent, not everyone in England speaks like they are a member of the Royal Family.”

Buffy tilted her head, deep in thought. “Anyone can belong to the wizarding world, right? I mean, anyone I pass on the street could be a witch or a wizard.”

Joyce nodded in response. “It is quite possible Buffy.”

Buffy bit her lip, deep in thought. “So, anyone could be a wizard, like, Synder.” Buffy shuddered disgusted by the thought. “Am I a witch then?” Buffy asked, quietly. Joyce smiled, taking Buffy’s hand in hers.

“Of course.”

“Then why did I not get the letter?” She asked, Buffy’s penetrating gaze on her mother.

“Well,” Joyce started, a guilty look on her face. “Because we had to hide you, when the letter was sent to us, we threw it away.”

Buffy removed her hand from her mothers, crossing her arms against her chest.

“You lied about that, like you lied about everything else.” Buffy accused.

“You lied about being the slayer!” Joyce argued, knowing she sounded childish. “So don’t tell me off for lying, because that was what you were doing also!”

Buffy looked at her hands, realising exactly what her mother was saying. It was true, she had lied about it, but lying about the wizarding world and her real father was much worse. But Buffy did not voice her opinions; she looked hard at Snape, who was looking back at her.

“You wanna know about being the slayer?” Buffy voiced Snape’s question. Snape and Joyce nodded simultaneously. “K, but no interruptions, OK?” Joyce and Snape nodded again.

“When did you become a slayer?” Joyce asked with an eager look on her face, but it quickly disappeared as Buffy glared at her.

“No interruptions. I became a slayer in March, when I was fifteen. Merrick, my watcher came up to me and told me about my destiny. Then, you know when I burned the gym down in LA?” Joyce nodded, and Snape looked disappointed at Buffy, at which she smirked. “Well, the truth was, there were vampires inside. So, when we moved to Sunnydale, I found out that my watcher was Giles, and Xander and Willow, my best friends, found out that I was the slayer. So, that’s pretty much it.” Buffy stopped there, she did not want to expand and tell her parents about everything she had gone through. Especially about the Master, Spike and Drusilla, Angel and Angelus.

“What was all that business, the night that girl died?” Joyce asked, and Buffy closed her eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She muttered.


“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” She repeated loudly opening her eyes, and Joyce immediately shut up.

There was silence for a while and then Buffy asked a question she had been dying to ask for a long time.

“What happens now?”

Joyce shrugged, and glanced at Snape. “Well, tomorrow evening, you will be able to go back home. Then, I guess, we’ll ask for you to be allowed back into school, and Snape will go back to Hogwarts.”

Buffy nodded. “I want to go back with him.”

Snape looked surprised, and he glanced at Joyce, before returning his gaze to Buffy.

“I’m not quite sure you could.” Snape said, wincing as Buffy glared at him.

“I want to see where I came from. I want to learn magic.” She said, staring at him.

“Honey, Severus is in a difficult position. If Voldemort found out he had a daughter, we could all be in terrible danger.” Joyce reasoned.

But Buffy had made up her mind, and she stuck her bottom lip out a little. “I’m sure we could work it out.” She said sweetly.

Joyce and Snape exchanged glances, and then Snape smiled at Buffy, which creeped her out a bit.

“I would love for you to come to Hogwarts.”

Chapter 6: Sunnydale

The next day, Buffy was let out of the hospital. She felt perfectly fine, almost good as new. Because the hospital was in Los Angeles, and they needed to get to Sunnydale, Snape had brought along a Portkey which would transport them back to her house. When Snape had explained everything about the Portkey, Buffy had thought it would be something really special and cool looking, but Snape brandished a kettle and told them it was the Portkey.

“So we touch the kettle, and we are transported to Sunnydale?” Buffy asked, eyeing the kettle warily.

“Yes.” Snape replied, and Buffy shook her head.

“No way. I am so not going to do that.”

Joyce smiled at her daughter. Joyce was now much happier that she had found Buffy and a great deal happier that Buffy knew about Severus.

“It will not hurt you. Just touch it and you’ll be off.” Joyce explained, and Buffy shrugged.

“’K, but it’s you’re call. If I don’t port-key outta here, then you’re gonna look like an idiot.” Buffy said, and Snape smirked.

“I think you’ll find that if you are holding on to a kettle in a middle of a room, with no explanation of you doing so, you are going to look like the idiot.” Buffy grinned at Snape, and he stood next to her, placing a finger onto the kettle and looking at a black pocket watch. “Five seconds. Gather your bags. Three…two…one…”

The colourful hotel room they had previously been in swirled in colour and Buffy felt her feet leave the ground. Wind rushed through her hair and the bag she was carrying that held her possessions hit her leg. But then it was all over, and she crumpled to the ground next to her mother on the soft grass that belonged to Sunnydale.

She stood up carefully, watching her mother and ‘father’ as he helped her up, her hand clasped in his. They stood staring at each other for a moment, lost in each other, until Joyce coughed quietly and looked away. Note to Buffy, get mum and Snape to make with the smoochies.

“Keys?” Buffy asked, and Joyce threw them to her, which Buffy caught. She opened the door and walked inside, flicking the light switch.


Quick as a flash, Buffy reached for her stake that was hidden in her back pocket and grabbed the nearest person, holding said person close to her body, her stake poised on top of the person’s heart.

“Woah, Buffster, stop with the Willow slaying.” Xander said, an amused look on his face. Buffy grinned and looked down at the person she was holding. Willow smiled weakly at her friend.

“Welcome home.” She said quietly, and Buffy grinned. She enveloped Willow in a slayer strength hug and Willow hugged her fiercely back. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” Buffy said, and parted with Willow. She smiled at Xander and he grinned back. He strode forward and picked her up, holding her tightly as she squealed with delight. When he finally set her down, Buffy ruffled his hair (with great difficulty because she was a good head an a half shorter than him) and said: “I missed my Xander shaped friend.”

“And I missed my Buffyster.” He replied, and Buffy grinned.

“OK, Ok, enough hugging for now.” A chirpy voice interrupted the two friends. Cordelia stood next to Buffy, her hands separating Xander and Buffy. “Hey Buffy.” She said, and Buffy smiled.

“Hey Cor. I thought you were going away.”

“Been there, done that already.” She said, taking Xander’s hand and leading him to the sofa.

“Hey Buffy.” Said Oz who sat on a chair, a coke can in his hand.

“Hey Oz.” Buffy greeted. “How’s you’re sum-“

She was interrupted by Willow pushing a stake into her hand and turning her around to face the door.

“Buffy, slay.” She commanded, pointing at Snape who was standing outside the house.

“What?” Buffy asked, confused. Willow made an incoherent sound and pushed Buffy towards Snape.


Buffy grinned, and put her hands on Willow’s shoulders. “Willow, he is not a vampire. Though I can see the resemblance.”

Xander nodded. “Looks like Deadboy…in a not Deadboy way.” The moment he said it, he knew it was a mistake, for Buffy’s smile dropped and she looked down at her feet, tears in her eyes for Angel threatening to fall.

Willow glared at Xander and then passed Buffy a bowl of crisps. “Chips? Lots of salty goodness in these potato things.” She said, trying to brighten the mood and divert the subject from Angel, whom she presumed was dead, in a dusty way.

Buffy looked up to her, smiling weakly. “Yeah. Salty goodness.”

“Buffy?” She turned around to face the person who was calling around and smiled genuinely.

“Giles.” He stood at the door, not noticing Snape who stood in the arch of the dining room watching the scene unfold. He watched as Buffy ran into Giles’ arms and Giles held her tight, as if he would never let go. Unconsciously, Snape let out a quiet growl. He was jealous. He saw what Giles and Buffy had together, love, father daughter love, and Snape wanted it.

Buffy and Giles parted, and it was then that Giles saw Snape. He grinned and gave his hand to him.

“Alright mate?” He asked, and Snape took his hand and shook it firmly.

“Good to see you Ripper.” Snape said, an evil look on his face. Giles visibly bristled, and Xander looked back and forth between the two men.

“Ripper? Is this another Ethan, ‘cos I really don’t want to be army guy again.”

“Severus Snape.” Snape introduced, ignoring Xander’s comment about ‘army guy’. But the Ethan mention intrigued him and he made a note to speak to Giles about that.

“Xander Harris. Why are you wearing a dress?” Buffy snorted as Snape looked down at his robe.

“It’s not a dress Xand, it’s a robe.” Buffy explained, but Xander seemed even more confused.

“Robe? Why would he wear a robe, why are you wearing a robe? And who the hell are you?”

Buffy grinned again. “Xand, everyone, this is my dad.”

“Huh?” The teenager’s chorused. Buffy rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch next to Oz.

“Sit down, and I’ll make with the explainy.”