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What goes around comes around
Title: What goes around comes around
Author: Mishap AKA Mishap00
Fandom: Harry Potter/BTVS crossover
Disclaimer: Any rights I am entitled to I freely give back to the copyrighted owners of Harry Potter and BTVS. I own nothing and make no claims.
Archive: WWOMB, my site and any list I post it to
Summary: What would have happened if on his way to Africa Spike ran into a certain green-eyed wizard and got side tracked?
Warnings: Mentions child abuse
Notes: AU, Crossover, Canon, never heard of it.
Harry slumped dejectedly on the park bench panting and out of breath. Partly from the tears that clogged his throat and rolled down his face and partly due to speed with which he had run from the Dursley's to the park. As his breathing eased he felt the pain of the bruises inflicted on him by his uncle for daring to call poor `little' Dudley names.
He lost track of time as he replayed over and over in his mind the taunts, the `accidental' slaps and shoves that Dudley had inflicted on him in the two weeks since his sixth year ended. He revisited the cruelty inflicted by his aunt and uncle for his `freakish' behavior. The never ending list of pointless chores and increasingly meager meals that built his anger and hatred culminating in the straw that broke the camel's back. He didn't care what they said to him so much, he was used to it. But when the Dursleys were informed of his godfather's death and then Dudley said that Sirius was a filthy criminal and got what he deserved…he couldn't control it. He'd screamed that Dudley was nothing but a disgusting hog and lost control of his magic shattering every glass item in the china cabinets that lined the dining room.
His uncle had grabbed him by the arms and slammed him against the wall. Swearing and threatening to “beat the freakishness out of him” before backhanding him and sending him sprawling on the floor by the front door. He had jumped to his feet and fled the house before Vernon could make good on his threats. Running to the one place he had ever gotten any peace in the neighborhood. Dudley avoided the park and the attached playground like the plague. He claimed it wasn't `cool' enough for him. But Harry knew he was really terrified that the man who'd caught him picking on the younger kids would catch him again.
Leaning back on the bench he raised his head and finally noticed that night had fallen as tears once again spilled down his face.
“Wot's the problem, mate?” Came a rough, east end accent out of the darkness behind him.
Leaping to his feet, Harry spun to face the unseen stranger. His hand instinctively went for the wand that he didn't carry. “Who's there?” He called straining to see in the dim illumination given by the streetlights.
“Name's William, but call me Spike.” Was the reply as the stranger sauntered out of the shadows. A black leather duster swirled around his legs as approached and he flicked a cigarette butt to the side before perching on the back of the bench. Feet clad in heavy leather boots were planted firmly on the seat and his elbows rested on his knees.
“N-nothing, no problem.” Harry stuttered feeling decidedly uneasy but not sure why.
“Roight, you always sit in the park after midnight, crying when you feel wonderful.” was the sarcastic comment from the blond.
Taking in the platinum slicked back hair and the pale eyes along with the attitude the question almost burst out of him. “Are you a Malfoy?”
The man that had introduced himself as Spike did the unexpected and started laughing so hard he almost fell off his perch. “That's a good one kid. I wouldn't be a Malfoy for all the Galleons in Gringott's. Every damn one of them are arrogant, annoying gits with their noses so far in the air that it's amazing they haven't all drowned in the rain.”
Harry relaxed a bit Spike didn't like the Malfoys and knew about Gringott's. “A-are you a wizard?” He asked.
“Not exactly. I was a wizard, not the best; I went to Hogwarts and all.” He said considering. “I ran into a few problems and my…life changed a bit. I ended up getting my wand snapped and have been pretty much been living in the muggle world ever since.” He shrugged. “Been staying in the States and on the continent…more or less.”
“So why are you here, in Little Whinging, I mean?” Harry asked wondering about the change in the stranger's accent from rough to cultured.
“Bit of nostalgia mostly. So what's your name, kid?”
“Harry Potter.” He said cringing inwardly at the expected fawning and gushing.
“Potter? What's a Potter doing in Surrey and dressed in rags?” He said running an appraising eye over ill fitting and worn out garments that clothed the youth.
“My parents were killed when I was a baby and I ended up with my maternal aunt and uncle because I didn't have any other family and my godfather was in Azkaban.” He said bitterly. “They hate `freaks' like us and that's why I am in the park to answer your earlier question.”
“Bloody hell! Unless the wizarding world has lost two thirds of its population the Potter's are related to most of them and that includes me. Hell the joke was that the Weasleys and the Potters would compete to see who had the most kids.” He stated angrily jumping to his feet to pace. “Who the hell has been filling your head with this crap?”
Harry backed away from the pacing form, his unease increasing. “My father was an only child. As far as I know his father was too. Who or…what are you?”
Taking in distrust and fear on the face of the young man slowly backing away from him. Spike thrust his hands through his hair and sat down trying to calm himself. “Kid, I have to explain a few things. I am not exactly human anymore, but I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to thanks to the miracles of modern science.” He said with a sneer. “You see before you one of the most pitiful of creatures a master vampire that's been defanged.”
His heart knocking against his ribs in an agitated tattoo, Harry squeaked his voice breaking. “Vampire?”
“Yeah.” Spike said sourly. “A vampire, who's already eaten his daily ration of pig's blood. Disgusting stuff that.”
Harry blurted out the first thought that crossed his mind. “Couldn't you transfigure it to human?”
Spike glared a bit. “What part of `got my wand snapped' didn't you understand?”
“Uh, sorry.” He said sheepishly. “Couldn't you go to Ollivander's and get a replacement?”
“No dosh, plus wizards tend to kill my sort on sight. I can't really blame them, I would've too when I was human. Non-hereditary vampires tend to be a bit bloodthirsty and uncontrollable when they`re young.”
Harry kept his distance, but didn't flee. Curiosity got the best of him and he asked. “What about now? I mean…you said vampires are uncontrollable when they're young. How old are you?”
Spike grinned flashing white teeth at the boy. “Old enough, let's just say that the last time I walked in the sun and had a pulse Victoria was Queen.”
“Wow. I thought it was rare that demonic vampires lived that long?”
“Very rare, I had help though.” The blond confessed. “First off I was turned as a childe of a Master Vampire, so I was never a mindless drone like most minions are. Second my Sire turned me to care for another vampire and took great pains that I retained a lot of my human traits. And third my Sire was one of the most feared vampires to ever terrorize Europe.”
Harry asked. “Why would your Sire want you to care for another vampire? I was taught that they killed the weak ones?”
“We do, but you see Drusilla wasn't weak. She is insane and the rarest of all vampires, a true seer.” Spike revealed.
“A vampire seer? I thought that a seer lost their powers if they were turned into a vampire.”
“Normally yes she would have, our sire had a theory he wanted to test. So he stalked her, tormented her, murdered everyone she loved and drove her insane before turning her and she retained her abilities.” Spike snorted, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “He thought if would be a great `experiment' and terribly entertaining as well. Then the bastard found out how hard it was to keep an insane vampiress from going out to play in the sun or deciding to bite someone in a very public location.”
“So along I come a few years later and Drusilla starts pestering him about how I would make a lovely brother and I could be her dark knight. So Angelus gets the bright idea to…”
“ANGELUS!” Harry shouted, “The Scourge of Europe, Angelus the Butcher, that Angelus?”
A sour look on his face Spike confirmed his fears. “That'd be the one. He's had a soul for over ninety years and he's still famous.”
Harry was incredulous. “He's got a soul? How in the hell did that happen?”
Spike laughed. “The great poof ate the wrong gypsy and got himself cursed. I tried to tell him to leave the gypsies alone, that every idiot knew better than to mess with the people who created some of the worst curses in existence, but he always knew best. This time it came back and bit him in the ass.”
“He's still around?” Harry squeaked looking around in trepidation.
Spike grinned again and released the frightened teen. “Oh he's still around; just he has a soul and lives in Los Angeles now.”
Relaxing the boy looked closer at the vampire in front of him. “If Angelus is your sire t-t-that makes you William the Bloody. Oh shit. I'm gonna die and Dumbledore will probably twinkle at my damn funeral.” Harry griped.
The next thing Harry knew he was flat on his back staring into glowing yellow eyes set in a demonic visage. “You said Dumbledore.” The formerly affable vampire growled. “Would that be Albus Dumbledore?”
“Y-yes” Harry stuttered his heart knocking in terror at the change from friendly to threatening.
“Why would the `Great Albus Dumbledore' be at your funeral? He asked mockingly.
“H-he's the Headmaster of Hogwarts and he more or less runs my life. He was the one who brought me to my Aunt's house after my parents were killed by Voldemort. For my own protection of course.” He spat out bitterly.
His face shifting back to its normal human planes and angles Spike spoke half in disgust, half in reluctant admiration. “The bastard managed it. He said he'd be Headmaster of Hogwarts and he's managed it.”
Spike pulled Harry to his feet as he stood and absently brushed off his clothes as the shocked youth stood immobile.
“You know Professor Dumbledore?” Harry asked incredulously.
“Know him? You could say that. He's the son of bitch that snapped my wand and then tried to kill me.” Spike stated his eyes beginning to gleam yellow. “I made the mistake of thinking he was my friend and asked him for help shortly after I was turned. He listened to me explaining that I didn't want to be a killer and wanted no part of Angelus. Then he grabbed my wand as soon as I let my guard down and tried to set me on fire with an incendio. The bastard forgot that vampire reflexes are a bit quicker than your average wizard's and I managed to get away. I spent the next year and a half after that getting tortured by my sire for that bit of idiocy.”
“And I figured out finally why the rest of the Slytherin's hated him and didn't trust him.”
“You were in Slytherin?” Harry asked curiously.
“Me a Slytherin, no I was a Hufflepuff. That sodding bastard Dumbledore was a Slytherin.
“Professor Dumbledore was a Slytherin? That doesn't make any sense. He's always given the impression that he was a Gryffindor. I am and he let's me get away with things he'd never let a Slytherin do.” Harry said his eyes wide in shock.
Spike snorted. “I figured it out after my run in with him. He hates his own house `cause they figured him out and that goody two shoes act of his went over like a lead balloon.”
“You know, this is all starting to make sense now.” The young wizard said half to himself. “I couldn't figure out why Dumbledore kept going on about trusting him and then giving me the mushroom treatment, you know kept in the dark and fed shit. If he was a Slytherin who was hated by his own house it would make perfect sense. He has the number two most powerful position in the wizarding world without the hassle of paperwork and without half as many people checking up on him and scrutinizing him the way that the minister is watched. Plus it is a lifetime appointment and he doesn't have to justify his actions to anyone except the board of governors. On top of all of that he gets to mold the next generation and his recommendation goes a long way in getting people in positions of authority in the ministry.”
The sound of a pair of hands clapping broke Harry out of his reverie. “Ta mate I think you've got it. The yanks have a saying `the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world' and apparently Albus figured it out as well.” The vampire commented drawing on his ever present cigarette. “The question is what are you going to do about it now that you've figured it out?”
The question set Harry back for a minute before a positively evil grin spread across his face that made the vampire step back for a moment. “That depends entirely on you.” The boy replied.