Title: Dangerous Men

Author: Jedi Buttercup

Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Angel, HP. Wesley felt, for the first time, that he was truly facing a man who had defeated a Dark Lord. 2000 words.

Spoilers: Angel post-"Not Fade Away"; "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows"

ANGEL to WESLEY: You do what you have to do to protect the people around you. To do what you know is right, regardless of the cost.
~A:tS "Lineage" (5.7)

Even if Wesley hadn't been watching the door carefully, he would have known the moment the man he was meeting had walked into the pub; the effect on the background murmur of conversation was immediate.

"Mr. Potter?" he said into the sudden silence, standing to shake hands with the off-duty Auror.

"Call me Harry," the young man said, favouring him with a polite smile and a strong, callused grip. "You're Polaris Wyndam-Pryce?"

He smiled ruefully at that. "Wesley Polaris Wyndam-Pryce, in fact, though I'll answer to any combination thereof."

"Ah." Harry nodded, green eyes sparkling with friendly amusement. "Wesley, then. Andromeda's rather a force of nature, isn't she?"

"Indeed." Wesley settled back into his chair, facing the young hero – and Teddy's godfather – across a small, scarred wooden table. Andromeda had suggested they meet on neutral ground the first time, get a sense of each other without having to watch what they said in front of Teddy and his grandmother; the Three Broomsticks had turned out to be the most convenient place for them to do so.

The other patrons began turning back to their own business as the pair settled and ordered drinks, and Wesley took advantage of the moment to look Harry over more thoroughly. He seemed very self-assured for a young man of only twenty-six; he was far more comfortable in his own skin than Wesley had been at the same age, fourteen years ago. Rather like a certain Slayer, in fact; saving the world multiple times seemed to have that effect on people. His clothing was comfortable, of excellent fabric, and was neither purely Muggle nor wizarding in style, the sign of a young man with both taste and money, and Wesley would be willing to bet it was Mrs. Potter's doing. The famed lightning-bolt scar was neither hidden nor emphasised behind a careless fall of black fringe, but the equally famous spectacles were nowhere to be seen, leaving the young man with an unnervingly intense stare.

He turned that stare on Wesley as their mugs arrived, then cast a quick privacy spell and opened the conversation cum interrogation with a casual query. "So. How are you settling in?"

"Well enough," Wesley replied. It did feel strange to be living in a magical environment again after so long away, but not entirely foreign; he supposed he had it easier than most exiles returning to the wizarding community, given who and what he'd been working with over the last several years. "I still feel a bit the poor relation for arriving hat in hand on her doorstep, but Andromeda's made me feel very welcome."

"You've been a great help to her, I know," Harry replied. "The last tutor had to leave rather suddenly. And she was delighted to be able to reclaim a member of the family for once." He paused at that, glancing down and taking a pull from his mug; Wesley did not press.

"On the subject of family," Harry continued after a moment, "how are you and Teddy getting along?"

"Hasn't he told you?" Wesley asked, surprised. It had been several days already since his arrival; though Harry had been away on an extended assignment until the evening before, he knew his charge sent his godfather letters almost daily through the owl post.

"He doesn't like to talk about his studies with me, and that extends to his tutors," Harry said, shrugging unconcernedly. "I think he's afraid I'll be disappointed if his marks are anything less than perfectly Outstanding, though where he picked up that idea, I can't imagine. I only earned seven O.W.L.s myself, only one of them better than Exceeds Expectations, and after the war – well, I never did get around to taking my NEWTs. I don't think I'm qualified to pronounce judgment on anyone's schoolwork."

Wesley raised an eyebrow. Not an impressive total, no, but then again, that had hardly been the boy's focus during his school years, had it? Defeating Voldemort had been a much more serious goal than Wesley's own determination to keep up with his cousin Barty Crouch, Jr., who had managed the nearly impossible feat of taking twelve OWLs. Wesley had had to make do with eleven, but he had made Head Boy where Barty had not; it all seemed so pointless now.

"It doesn't seem to have done your career any harm," he said, dryly.

"Well, they were hardly going to put the Man Who Vanquished Voldemort on Azkaban duty, were they?" Harry snorted.

No, no more than Wolfram and Hart had offered Angel's team menial positions when they'd signed on with the firm, but that was hardly a comment on their actual abilities. And in Harry's case, he'd more than justified the faith of Minister Shacklebolt and the Head Auror in giving him the position. That was more than Wesley could claim.

"And I suppose fame is the only reason your name is being bandied about as Robards' heir apparent?" he asked, wryly.

"You've been reading the Prophet." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Rather a lot of it, in fact," Wesley replied. He knew where the reaction had come from; there had been quite a lot of sensationalist coverage during Harry's years at Hogwarts, though the post-war articles seemed much more professional. "The Quibbler, too," he added, aware that one of Harry's friends was involved with the tabloid. "I've been out of the wizarding world for more than twenty years, and I'm afraid that my first instinct in an uncertain situation has always been–"

"Research, research, and more research," Harry interrupted, with a quick flash of white teeth. "Believe me, I understand. Have you met my sister-in-law Hermione?"

Hermione Weasley, nee Granger: frequently mentioned as a best friend and sometime romantic interest of The Boy Who Lived, wed to Harry's other best friend and Auror partner Ron, and current terror of the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures; a formidable witch, by all accounts. Wesley shook his head, bemused by Harry's comment and the sudden glimpse it provided of what the notorious young woman must have been like as a student. "Not yet, though Andromeda tells me I'll be meeting most of the Weasleys next weekend at a place called the Burrow. Will she be there?"

"Yes. It's Molly Weasley's home; Ron and Ginny's mum." Ginny being Ginevra Potter, of course. "She invites all the children round once a month – more often if she can get us – to spoil the grandchildren, beg for more of them, and make sure we're all fed properly." Harry chuckled. "Since Teddy's my godson, and we're all distantly connected through the Blacks, she usually includes Andromeda as well."

That was news to Wesley; it had seemed strange for Andromeda to invite her grandson's tutor to a friend's family dinner, but if he was to be introduced as a relative instead, it made a bit more sense. "I was aware of the Weasley connection; Mother mentioned once that her Aunt Cedrella was burnt off the family tapestry for marrying a Septimus of that line. Your connection was through your godfather?"

"And my dad as well." Harry sighed. "He was Sirius' first cousin once removed, through his mum. You're actually more closely related to me than you are to Teddy; Andromeda explained it all to me once, just after the war. I'd no idea I had any family left in the wizarding world at the time, save Teddy, and I suppose after everything that happened she thought it would help me to feel that I still had roots here." The Auror looked down, fiddling with his mug, and something changed in the line of his shoulders, as though he were bearing a great weight.

"Did it?" Wesley asked curiously, intrigued by the mercurial young man. He'd seen tragedy and loss on a much smaller scale than what Harry had suffered destroy minds; had lost control himself after one death too many. Illyria, for all she'd been the instrument of Fred's destruction, had been his only anchor in those days; he hadn't been able to let any of his other friends close. Without her, he did not know what he would have done; and even with her, he'd done some Unforgivable things. Harry had been so much younger, so much stronger – and yet, as he was seeing now, still human, too.

"Did it help you?" Harry looked up again, sharp-eyed and perceptive.

"That is why I'm here," Wesley admitted, softly. "I had nothing else left."

"I had nowhere else to go – but yes, it helped," Harry agreed, quietly. "It gave me an anchor outside of the Weasleys again, and much as I love them, I needed the space to be my own man for awhile." He drained the last of his mug, then gestured to the server for more and took down the privacy spell. "Back to the question, though," he added in a louder voice, "how is Teddy doing?"

"Much like any gifted child, or so I suppose," Wesley replied as the server brought over another pair of full mugs. He was not much used to children, but Teddy Lupin was magically strong, mentally quick, and already very talented with his native Metamorphmagus ability; when he wasn't indulging the natural mischievousness inherent in every six year old boy, he was a joy to instruct. "The closest I ever came to tutoring before was the term I spent in California several years ago as–" he paused to consider his wording, "–a librarian's assistant at an American secondary school..."

Harry snorted, then put the spell back up as the server walked away. "Watcher, you mean." Off Wesley's rather startled look, he added, "Auror, remember?"

"Ah." Wesley blinked; he'd known that someone kept track of the connections between the Watcher's Council and the wizarding world, but hadn't realised the Aurors had a part in it; he'd thought they'd been filed in the Department of Mysteries with all of the other atypical branches of magic. "So, you realise that our charges are typically teenaged women?" he asked.

It seemed Harry did indeed know what he was talking about; he grimaced sympathetically.

"Yes," Wesley continued, wryly. "I had two of them to look after, in addition to several of their friends. I'm afraid I was – rather unpopular with them, and the feeling was mutual. Teddy, by comparison, is an absolute gem. He may not be terribly fond of certain subjects, and it's obvious he still misses his previous tutor, but he listens when I teach and does his homework with only minimal complaint."

"You haven't told him that, have you?" Harry asked, chuckling.

"Of course not." Wesley smiled.

They fell quiet for a moment then, finishing their drinks. Then Wesley took a deep breath and addressed his cousin and judge. "So, will I pass?"

Harry studied him for a moment. "You'll do," he said. Then his face hardened, and Wesley felt, for the first time, that he was truly facing a man who had defeated a Dark Lord. "But I want you to know, I have your report from the American DMLE. I'm aware that neither Ministry will ever prosecute you for killing a demon, but if you ever use the Death Curse again under any circumstances–"

Wesley stiffened his spine. "You'll be the first to know," he said, firmly. "I know the dangers; I knew them then, but it was worth the absolute certainty of Vail's death."

Harry furrowed his brow at that. "You're not going to swear never to cast it again?" he asked, apparently surprised by Wesley's reply.

"I'm known for doing the right thing, not the easy thing, Mr. Potter," Wesley said, slightly more formally.

Harry considered that a moment, staring intently at him; Wesley felt almost pressured under that gaze, as though the younger man was attempting to read his soul.

Whether he was or not, a moment later, Harry suddenly relaxed. "You're a dangerous man, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," he finally said, then nodded. "Welcome to the family."

Go to: Top | Series Index | Buffyverse Xover Series | Fan Fiction Index

© 2008 Jedi Buttercup.