To get the backstory, check out the page under Creative Projects, “The Alliance of Destiny: A Virtual TV Series.”
Written and Directed by Humaira K and Gill P
Victor Garber as Jack Bristow
Greg Grunberg as Eric Weiss
A scream disturbed the cool night air of Hogsmeade. The wind carried the sound to the edges of Hogwarts where a dark haired young man, was reluctantly making his way back to the castle.
Instinctively Harry Potter’s emerald green eyes turned to the source of the sound, but he saw nothing. Gripping his wand he strained his
ears to hear more of the origin of the sound.
Again a screaming was heard, and Harry made his way to the Shrieking Shack, where the noise was strongest. He stopped dead as the scene before him played out.
A bloodied and bruised blonde woman, not too much older than he, was fighting against a vampire. He struggled to remember his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, wondering if Hermione would know what to do. Harry didn’t stop to think about that much longer, as he stepped away from the shadows, wand raised, saying in a loud and clear voice, “Stupefy!”
The vampire caught the charm full on in the chest, just as he raised himself up to launch another attack on the blonde girl nearby. He stumbled and the girl looked surprised to see Harry in the room. But her surprise and questioning facial expression was brief, as it gave her enough time to break a piece of broken furniture into a stake. With a spin of her agile body, she plunged it deep into the vampire’s chest. The vampire disappeared into thin air.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked, walking up to the girl and pocketing his wand. Already, she was nursing a sore arm and examining her various cuts and bruises.
“I’m fine,” she said tiredly, her accent betraying that she was American. “Who are you?” the woman continued, peering up at him.
Harry looked down at her pensively, as he had a few inches worth of height on her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Buffy Summers,” she said sticking out her hand. Harry gingerly took it and shook. Her grasp was quite tight for someone so small.
“Harry, Harry Potter,” he said quietly. He waited for the familiar checking of his scar, but this woman didn’t do anything. She just nodded her head and turned around.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I said we were rehearsing for a movie would ya?” she said to him, her back still to him.
“No, that was a vampire. We learned about them in DADA” said Harry quietly. He looked at her suspiciously. Who was she and how did she know exactly how to kill the vampire?
“DADA? Is that another name for Santa Claus over here? Cos if it is, I gotta meet this DADA and find out how he knows about vampires,” she said turning around and smiling at him. Harry laughed the first real laugh in ages. “No, it’s a class at the school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
Buffy looked stunned, as she said, “Oh.”
* * *
“What do you know about Julia Thorne?” Sydney Bristow cried, her hands clutched tightly around a nameless and faceless Covenant agent’s jacket collar.
“Need… to… know…” he croaked, smiling maliciously at her.
Sydney threw a right hook, which merely knocked the man off his balance. He shook it off and lunged at her. Sydney attacked again, bringing all of her anger about her lost two years down on one single man, who she was sure knew something: right hook, left jab, and a smooth roundhouse that knocked him away. She searched the dark floor of the Brazilian warehouse blindly. Finally Sydney located the 9mm that had been kicked from her hand when she first encountered him. Bearing down it, she unloaded 3 bullets into the man’s chest.
“All this time I can’t believe I couldn’t see/Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me/I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seems/Got to open my eyes to everything/Without a thought without a voice without a soul/Don’t let me die here/There must be something more/bring me to life.”
“Her… mione… Grang… er…” he said shakily, as his last breath was taken from him. Sydney froze, as the full weight of the extraction team she had arrived with came down.
“We heard gunshots. Sydney?” Eric Weiss asked her, as she walked away. A name. That’s all she needed.
* * *
“So…you’re a wizard?” Buffy asked blankly. They had taken seats on the battered furniture around the Shrieking Shack, trying to figure each other out.
“And you’re a Muggle, so you shouldn’t know about us,” replied Harry, just as blankly.
“Muggle?” asked Buffy, tending her bruises carefully.
“Non-magic person,” Harry explained.
Buffy nodded. “Ah. Right. Does being a vampire slayer count?”
“A what?” Harry asked a puzzeled look on his face.
“Vampire slayer. Long story,” Buffy said with a minute grin.
“So tell me about it?” asked Harry. He was beginning to think this girl was all right. She was a vampire slayer, whatever that was, and she seemed OK. Not in the evil kind of way, but Harry had learned appearances were deceptive of a person’s true nature.
“Well, one girl chosen in all the world to fight vampires and demons. She alone can do it, yadda yadda yadda. It’s a very boring history, but it’s no longer true. I’m not the only vampire slayer anymore. There are millions of girls now, that have the power and strength to fight evil,” she said wincing as the full force of the fight hit her body.
Harry carefully studied her, “How did it change? Are you OK?” he asked noticing as she momentarily winced.
Buffy tried to stay very still as she answered, she knew by the next night she’d be completely healed, but the pain was with her for now and it was hurting her.
“Magic. My best friend Willow, she changed the slayer’s destiny through magic. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Slayer healing and all. It’s just really hurting right now. I haven’t slayed a vampire in a long time. For a while I just couldn’t believe the burden didn’t fall on me. Wait a minute, you’re not a vampire or demon are you? Cause if you are, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to slay you,” she said looking at Harry suspiciously.
Harry chuckled, “No, I’m 100% human and wizardy. That destiny thing? I get that. I have a destiny too. Stupid prophecies.”
Buffy smiled, “Yeah well, you’re looking at the only vampire slayer who’s defied every prophecy about my death and I’ve died twice! Prophecies are only there to scare you.”
Harry and Buffy sat in companionable silence for a while. Suddenly Harry realized how late or early morning it was. He smacked himself on the forehead.
“I have to go before my friends send out a search party. It was nice talking to you Miss Summers.” said Harry.
“Buffy, call me Buffy. Same. How about we go out sometime?” she asked.
Harry was stunned but before he could reply Buffy realized her mistake, “And that so didn’t come out right. I meant, if you want we could meet up again. It’s nice to talk to someone who knows the whole destiny thing. I’m staying nearby. Usually spot some vampy or demony activity here. So, you’re welcome to help with the killing and reducing the demon population if you want?”
“I’d like that, Buffy,” said Harry as he walked away, back to Hogwarts.
His heart was lighter and for the first time, his burden seemed to lessen, as he felt no longer alone.
* * *
“I’m taking a couple of weeks off,” said Sydney packing her clothes into a suitcase, a process that was familiar to her by now.
“Of course, I understand. Where are you going, in case we need you?” asked the voice on the phone.
“To find some answers,” said Sydney as she stuffed more shirts and pants into the suitcase.”Look Dad, I have to go. Tell Dixon I’ll be back in a few weeks. 2 years of my life gone and I have no clue what happened during that time. I need some answers.”
Sydney could almost see her father nodding on the other end of the phone, “I understand. Have a good trip, I love you Sydney.”
His voice softened at that last statement. 2 years without his daughter had changed Jack Bristow, and every time he parted with her, he made sure he told her he loved her. Because he knew that one day, she wouldn’t come back, just like she hadn’t come back 2 years ago.
“I’ll forget you, I will/While yet you are still/Burning inside my brain/Romance is mush/Stifling those who strive/I’ll live a lush life in some small dive/And there I’ll be, while I rot with the rest/Of those whose lives are lonely too.”
Sydney’s expression softened at those words and she sat down on the edge of her bed.”I love you too, Dad. I’ll always love you. Bye,” she said as she clicked off the phone.
2 hours till she could find some answers, 2 hours before she was in England.
* * *
“Harry!” Ron Weasley called across the Gryffindor common room as soon as the Fat Lady allowed him in. “Where did you go after Honeydukes? I wanted to ask you about the sugar quills!”
Harry had managed to slip into the rambling Hogwarts castle without attracting any attention, a first in a long time, as someone was always stopping him in the corridors to talk about the return of Voldemort. He was sure that if someone even called his name, he wouldn’t have heard them. His mind was on his brief encounter with Buffy Summers, vampire slayer. He wondered if they existed in this world and how she got past the anti-Muggle defences that were supposed to be protecting the school and Hogsmeade.
“What?” he asked, plunking down in his favourite seat beside the bushy-haired Hermione Granger, his other best friend.
“Ron’s been complaining about his haul this trip,” Hermione filled him in. “As if he hasn’t got enough dungbombs to last him a lifetime.”
“Which I don’t!” Ron chortled over the noise in the busy room. He ran his right hand through his flaming red hair and looked rapturously over all of the things he had bought in Hogsmeade, which was a lot, considering. “I might have to send an owl to Fred and George. I was hoping to get a package of Dr. Filibuster’s Fireworks, but they ran out by the time we got there. So I spent my money on dungbombs. Can’t have enough!” Hermione clucked her tongue and shook her head, trying to concentrate on her work. Ron turned to Harry and prodded the air between them. “Sugar quills! You owe me from the last one you took of mine during Professor Binns’ class last week,” said Ron accusingly.
“Oh right,” Harry replied, pulling out his own bags. He extracted 2 quills from his Honeydukes bag and handed it over to Ron. “One for taking your last, and another for interest.”
“Interest? Come off it, mate,” Ron said, handing the second one back. Harry shook his head. He had other things on his mind than sugar quills. “Harry…” Ron began.
“Ron, just take it alright?” Harry snapped. The conversation between the three friends stopped abruptly.
“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione dared to ask. Crookshanks appeared and weaved in and out between Hermione’s legs.
She absentmindedly began petting her cat, as she waited for Harry’s response. This was a touchy question between them now, as they knew speaking of Voldemort’s return and Trelawney’s prophecy would only aggravate Harry. Sometimes he told the truth, other times he went off the handle at the very inquiry.
“Nothing. Sorry. Just keep the quill okay?” Harry said, sighing.
“If you say so,” Ron conceded.
Harry stood up, faking a yawn and stretching. “I think I’ll go to bed now.”
“We’ll join you. It’s getting too loud in here anyway,” Hermione said, scooping up Crookshanks and her Arithmancy books, which she was studying before Harry’s arrival.
Harry dejectedly made his way to the dormitory he shared with the other boys in his year: Ron, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, and Dean Thomas. He looked forward to seeing it every year since he discovered he was a wizard. But even the very sight of the warm and inviting dormitory didn’t bring him even a glimmer of happiness. Harry flopped onto his bed and stared overhead at the bed coverings, not even bothering to focus on any particular part of it.
“Harry, I’m really sorry about giving you a hard time with the quill,” Ron began, dumping his various bags into the trunk at the foot of his own bed.
“It’s okay, Ron. I’ve just… got a lot on my mind, that’s all,” Harry said, cutting him off. Harry felt a little weird for not telling Ron and Hermione about Buffy, but somehow he didn’t think they’d understand.
* * *
“Hello, my name is Alexandra Monroe and I’m looking for the Grangers,” Sydney began, asking at the front desk.
“Oh yes. The Grangers are on the third floor, fourth door on your right,” a woman at the front desk with a thick Scottish accent offered her. “Thank you,” Sydney said gratefully, making her way to the elevator.
She was able to use an old contact to tell her about the Grangers, particularly the one called Hermione. It was a girl’s name, Sydney knew, as she had studied Shakespeare while getting her master’s in literature. Why anyone would name a poor, defenceless child Hermione was anyone’s guess.
Sydney made her way off the elevator, dressed in simple, non-assuming clothes. As soon as she worked off her jet lag from LA to England, she made her way to the address she had received from her contact. It was an office building of some sorts. She peeked at the board listing the various businesses before propositioning the woman at the front desk. The Grangers were dentists, Sydney surmised.
“Julia!” a voice called as soon as Sydney closed the door behind her. It had bells attached to the door, to announce visitors. Sydney was taken aback, to say the least.
“Yes!” she called, playing along.
A bright-eyed, curly haired woman appeared from behind the desk to embrace Sydney. “What did you do to your hair?” the woman asked
“I, uh, decided on a darker color,” Sydney said quickly.
“Well, that’s a good color for you,” the woman said, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “Just between you and me, the blonde just wasn’t working for you.”
Sydney smiled, truly unaware who this woman was. “Yes, well, everyone’s been telling me that.” If she stuck with the ruse, she could find out about Hermione.
“So how have you been? You’re not due for a cleaning for a good long while,” the woman continued, walking back to stand behind the glass. “You’ve been flossing, correct?”
“I’ve been good, a little preoccupied. Yes, of course I’ve been flossing,” she paused for a moment, wondering if she should continue this charade. “Well, I came to ask after Hermione,” Sydney began, choosing her words carefully.
The woman paused notably. “Well, hmm, Hermione… Hermione’s away at school.”
“Where does she go again? I don’t think you told me,” Sydney persisted, feeling only slightly evil that she was using this woman to find out about her missing two years.
“Oh… just over there… at the school that accepted her,” the woman continued offhandedly.
Immediately Sydney knew there was something she wasn’t telling her. “Right. Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hello,” Sydney said coolly, casting a glance around the cluttered desk. There was a letter, in perfect handwriting, addressed to the Grangers from Hermione, she could tell from her slanted viewpoint.
“I’ve got patients to attend to. Do stop by again, won’t you?” the woman said with a smile, before rushing away.
“I will!” Sydney called after her. She waited until the woman had disappeared into a back office before leaning over the counter to steal the letter away. Sydney carefully placed the evidence in her pocket and left the office smoothly, equal parts guilt and exhilarance at having stolen the opened letter. She felt terrible for using such an effusive and friendly woman who knew Sydney under false pretences to discover the truth about her missing two years, but excited at having possibly found the key to those two years. She carefully peeled back the broken seal and read it excitedly. Unfortunately, she was let down, as there was a dry report of how school was from Hermione. The Grangers were her parents, Sydney stupidly realized.
“I really think it’s best if I stay for Christmas holiday, Mum,” the last part of the letter read. “There’s just so many things I’ve got to concentrate on, what with the massive final Professor Snape is threatening to give us in Potions and my Arithmancy grade is not up to scratch. You understand, don’t you? Send me an owl. Lots of love, Hermione.”
The letter ended and Sydney was filled with more questions than ever before. What kind of school teaches Potions… and Arithmancy? Owl? She was thoroughly confused. Sydney flipped over the letter (written on parchment paper, as far as she could tell) and examined the broken seal on it. A big H. Maybe it stands for Hermione? Sydney thought. Can’t be. She opened the letter again and caught the name Hogwarts, which she had missed in her first read-through of the letter. Before she could think, Sydney rushed out of the building to find out all she could about Hogwarts.
* * *
A fell voice crept into Angel’s uneventful dreams. It was familiar, somewhat comforting, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. A sudden image of Buffy dying crashed into his head like a train wreck. He was dreaming, he knew it, but he couldn’t wake up. A dark, hooded figure was holding Buffy against her will. She was struggling and then he was there. He tried to force himself to do something, anything to help her, but he couldn’t. He was bound to an irresistible force that was holding him back.
“NO!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Angel’s eyes flew open and he sat up in bed, covered in cold sweat. He was in LA. He had to reassure himself that whatever transpired in his head was a dream. Only a dream.
“All alone in space and time/There’s nothing here but what here’s here’s mine/Something borrowed, something blue/Every me and every you/Every me and every you/Every Me…he.”