Title: Destiny Forsaken

Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net or jinni@moonlitpaths.com)

Rated: PG13

Pairing: W/Harry

Genre: BtVS/Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Joss Whedon owns BtVS/AtS.

Distribution: WLS, BMP, NHA, WLF, Aislin, Serena, TQC.

Author’s Note: Pairing #23 at The Quickie Challenge.

http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com

~*~

He ran away so that he wouldn’t have to do what everyone expected of him.

It was too hard, his mind screamed.

Too much to expect from someone who had never gotten to live his life the way other people his age were running around doing.

So he left.

Right after the Leaving Feast.

He said his goodbyes to Ron and Hermione, packed his things, told Hedwig to be a good owl and stay with Hagrid.

And left.

But he had never expected to meet *her*, someone trying to get away from her own problems when he fled Europe for the States, settling in a small studio flat in New York.

He remembered the night he met her all too well. It was a clear night and pretty late. The moon was half full in the sky, but the stars were obscured by the lights of the city. He heard the sounds of fighting that were coming from the dark alleyway first, as he walked by. Muffled screams and grunts. He had clutched his wand tightly, peering into the alley with the same trepidation he always felt in the face of certain danger.

And that’s when he saw her.

Red hair flashing in the moonlight, her hands and legs flying everywhere as she kicked and punched at the Thing that was attacking her. Even in the dark, at that distance, he knew the Thing wasn’t human. It was too tall, too gangly, and moved in a way that no humans he had ever met could. Too fast. And the knees looked like they bent the wrong way, opposite that of normal people.

The woman looked like she was doing a good job of things, too; the creature seemed to be hurt, it was limping the next time it reared back to make another swipe at her.

And then the unthinkable happened.

The creature’s claws caught her, going over her chest in a raking blow that sent her stumbling backwards. It happened too fast for her to duck, to move out of the way. She didn’t even have time to raise her hands to try to block the blow.

He saw her fall and couldn’t stand back and just watch any longer.

Charging into the fray, the creature was dead within minutes, a few well-placed curses stunning it long enough for him to use a suffocation hex.

Only then could he turn his attention to the woman.

She was about his age, maybe a little older. Not old by any shot of the imagination, though. Blood was seeping through her shirt, but she was conscious and moving; and those two things were always good.

Take it easy, he had murmured, muttering the few healing spells he knew; prepared to Obliviate her when he was done, if necessary.

It wasn’t.

"She was a witch." Harry Potter murmured to himself, shaking his head at the memory. Willow. Her name was Willow and she was a witch.

And now his girlfriend.

She had never heard of him, it seemed. Nor had she gone to any school of witchcraft either here or another country. She was self-taught and wandless and not a part of any wizarding community. She hadn’t even know that there *was* a ‘wizarding community’ until he told her about it. So she was a natural when it came to magic.

Not to mention beautiful, smart; and adorable in a way that was both adult and child all at the same time.

"And that’s how I fell in love." The muttered whisper was sad, forlorn. He longed to have someone from back home to share the joy of being in love with. The Weasleys, Hermione – Hell, he’d settle for telling Draco Malfoy, prat that he was; if only to share his love with the world he knew so well. And how the wizarding world would go nuts if they knew the Boy-Who-Lived had found someone to spend his time with.

If they didn’t know already.

There were Aurors that showed up every now and then, just checking up; never talking to him or making it overly obvious who they were. But he knew. He always knew. And he made sure Willow knew how to watch for them, too. Neither of them were keen on having their private life become public knowledge. For now, though, it seemed that he was to be given some peace and quiet. . .

No matter how much he was coming to want just the opposite.

"You’re thinking too loud."

Harry turned, giving the woman behind him a smile. His eyes took in the rumpled nightshirt that came to just below her waist, giving him a great view of the thighs he loved so much. Her eyes were half-shut, and she was rubbing at them with the back of her hand.

"Sorry, sweetie."

Willow shrugged, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his chest.

"S’ok. Just. . . you know. . .missed you in bed."

He nodded. It hadn’t been his intention to get up in the middle of the night and not return. Two hours had gone by since he’d left, thoughts of the world he left behind cluttering his head; and he was no closer to sleep now than he had been back then.

"Can’t sleep?" She asked needlessly, her green eyes watching his face, worried.

He nodded, reaching up a hand to brush a lock of hair from his eyes.

"I keep thinking about . . ."

Harry trailed off, unsure of how to express exactly what it was that he was worrying about. He didn’t want her to think he was regretting being with her, after all. It was just that –

"You miss them. . . Your friends. . . That world. . ."

He winced at the tremble in her tone.

"Yes, but I’m not going to run off on you." He hurried to assure her.

She snorted.

"I would hope not, Mister. I’d hate to have to run after you. . . " She yawned, blurring the rest of what she said.

"What was that, luv?"

Willow smiled sleepily, shaking her head.

"I said I wouldn’t want to have to run after you since I’m more than willing to go *with* you."

"Go. . . With. . . Me?" He stammered, green eyes wide. "You would leave New York?"

Willow shrugged.

"No biggie, you know. My work follows me as long as I can bring my laptop. . . There’s nothing else to keep me here."

So sad, he thought, that she didn’t have any friends or family to cling to. She had no one; and the story that led to that was one wrought with pain and betrayal. One that still brought her nightmares that woke her in the middle of the night, crying.

"So. . . You’d go back? Assuming I wanted to go, that is? I haven’t made up my mind."

"Of course, silly. Where you go, I go. Unless you don’t want me to." She frowned, the thought apparently unpleasant. "If you don’t, I wouldn’t, of course. Very silly of me to assume you *do* want me to go. . . "

He cut her off with a finger to the lips, followed quickly by a kiss before she could begin the self-deprecating babble again. Her mouth tasted like cinnamon, a throwback to the toothpaste she had used before bed that night. Her tongue was insistent as she leaned up into the kiss, her arms moving from his waist to his neck.

"I love you." He whispered into her lips when their mouths separated. "Don’t doubt for one second that I don’t want you with me. For the rest of my life."

Willow smiled, the expression breaking into a yawn before she could stop it.

"I love you too." She murmured. "So – we’re going? To England? Hogwarts? All those places you’ve always told me about? Oh! That Diagon Alley place. Can I wear robes? Can I have a wand? I’ve always wanted a wand. I’m jealous of yours, you know. . . wand envy."

Harry laughed, shushing her with a quick kiss on the lips.

"We can do all that and more. . . But. . .It will be hard. . . They won’t be happy to see me. I left. It’s been a year."

"I think you underestimate your friends." She smiled gently, running a hand along his cheek. "They’ll still love you. But they can’t love you the way I do, k? I’ll get grumpy if they get smoochies."

"Right – no smoochies for Ron. Got it."

"None for that Hermione chick either. Or the Ginny chick. . . or any other girlies that you knew or could possibly meet in the future. . . All the smoochies belong to me."

He smirked.

"Care to come upstairs and be on the receiving end of some of those ‘smoochies’?" He offered, leering in what he hoped was a sexual way.

"But . . .plans. . . England. . ." She shook her head, stammering.

"Yes. England. But we’re not leaving tonight. Or tomorrow. Maybe not for a few weeks."

"Oh." She frowned. It was too late for this, her expression seemed to say. Too late and she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. Best to get back in bed, smoochies or not.

She threw him a tired smile and pushed him towards the stairs.

"Lead the way, Boy-Who-Should-Be-In-Bed."

~*~The End~*~