When Harry Met Buffy

Notes: Well, one thing I do know about this is that this is going to be a baby, its not going to be a big or long series, but I want to finish it. I'm trying to keep it under four chapters. Desperately. After all, with a dozen other series standing at 20 chs. each, can you blame me?

________________________

"Buff, you really are spending far too much time on that thing."

The Slayer looked around from her computer to Xander, who was sitting on the couch, watching the late night television. "You never used to lecture Wills when she was on the computer all the time."

"When I was what?" Willow asked, walking through from the dining room area, a bowl of popcorn in her hands.

The witch had just returned to Sunnydale with the end of the summer with Giles' comforting assurance that she was going to be all right now, although she had been very hesitant.

After all, only three months earlier, she had killed her girlfriend's murderer, tried to end the world and her eyes still held the haunted look that she had borne since the day her lover, Tara, had died in front of her.

For a brief time after she had returned, she had subconsciously slipped into invisible-girl mode because she was so uncomfortable about seeing her friends after everything she had done when she was bad.

She still had to make amends for it all, but when she had found out her friends did care and weren't scared of her, it had helped.

Since then, she, Xander and Buffy had become as close as they had been in their High school years, back in the age of innocence, or that was what it felt like. They were all single, all able to admit that they were a fool for love to some extent of another, and - although they would never admit it - were glad things were the way they were now.

Not with the bad and emotional break-ups, but because of the friendship.

All of them had missed it.

It was almost as if they had come to wish that none of the past six years had actually happened: as if the prom had never happened; homecoming forgotten; but also the Harvest through to the Initiative crisis; then Buffy versus Dracula, the mess with Glory and all the badness that had ensued.

After all, none of them could say that past six years had been entirely happy.

Yes, there had been phases of the good, but in the last year, things had just gone in a rapidly downward spiral, each of them feeling that they were holding the weight of the world on their shoulders at some point.

It seemed, they had come to realise mournfully, that they were all doomed, trapped in a life serial of bad girls and guys who would never bring anything but stress, brief spatters of romance, then heartbreak.

Plus, there was Dawn, who had returned from summer camp. She was the only permanent shift in the balance, fitting neatly into the place that had been occupied by various people over the years: Cordelia, Oz, Angel, Spike, Tara...

All of them were gone now.

Tara was dead. Spike had vanished the previous year, never seen again. Angel was still working for redemption in Los Angeles. Oz was...well, no one knew just where Oz was except that he was there. Cordelia was apparently a seer in L.A. with Angel.

Somehow, it seemed impossible to have a long-term friendship or relationship of any kind on the Hellmouth.

Yes, Anya was still about, but she had started to drift away, gradually.

Leaving the original trio, plus Dawn, all living in the Summers house.

Xander had been unable to keep his expensive apartment, so he had moved into the Summers home in the middle of the summer, refurbishing the basement to make himself a cosy den down there.

They were more than a family now, they knew.

They were all the others had.

Which definitely explained Xander being concerned about Buffy, when she spent so much time on the internet, between her slaying sessions, classes at college which she had restarted and training.

Luckily, her father's alimony cheques had started to come in, so she wasn't exactly struggling financially.

"Buffy spending all her time on the computer, Wills," Xander replied, nodding towards Buffy at the desk. "Tell her it's not of the good!"

"Um...kinda not a good judge, since I spend all my time on the net, since I'm back as research girl," Willow said with a faint smile, as she sat down next to her friend. "Do you research and stuff on there?"

"Um..."

"That would be a big no, huh?" Xander looked like he was going to start lecturing her, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Willow's lap.

"I kinda found a chat room and got talking to a guy from England," Buffy mumbled, turning her eyes back to the screen and hoping her blush wasn't as deep as she felt it was. "He's real sweet."

"Moloch," Willow coughed loudly.

"Will! He's not a creepy demon-guy!" Buffy exclaimed. "I talk to him as the real me and he talks back the same way."

"How do you know?"

"He...he...uh...said so."

Xander raised his eyes to the ceiling. "And that stands right up there with Angel saying he's a good vampire always..."

"Xander!" Both girls cried out indignantly and Willow punched his arm. "That was mean!"

"It's true, though! He could be a bad guy!"

"He wouldn't lie to me!"

"And you know this how?"

Buffy looked at the screen, then back at her friend. "I...I just know," she replied defensively. "We've been talking for three months and I don't think even he would be that good at acting," She raised a hand and pointed it at Xander. "And don't you talk to me about picking bad people, Mister-I-liked-an-Inca-Mummy-Girl and Mister I-almost-got-my-head-eaten-for-sex-because-I-was-a-teacher's-pet! And you say I'm out of my mind..."

"Hey!" Xander protested. "I'm a new man now! I would say no such thing!"

Willow shook her head, laughing. "So, Buffy, what's he like, if you're so sure he's not a bad guy?"

Typing a response, Buffy looked across at her friends. "He's a year older than me and he's English," she replied, mock-glaring at Xander for the horrified expression he pulled. "He's real funny and sweet. I don't know what he looks like but I bet he's a real computer geek."

"You haven't asked for a photograph?" Scrambling to her feet, the red-haired witch hurried over to the computer. "Go on! Ask him! Ask him to send a picture!"

"Will, you genius!"

"You never thought to ask him?"

Buffy grinned sheepishly. "Um..."

[Summersby: Hey, can I ask you something?]

[Scarph: You know you can.]

[Scarph: And no, I don't do the business for less than fifty quid with someone I don't find attractive. Unless they have a nice arse.]

[Summersby: Ack! TMI!]

[Scarph: //laughs\ So what are you wanting to ask, if it's not that?]

[Summersby: Do you have a picture of you? My friends are curious about you.]

[Scarph: Picture of me...hmm...give me a moment.]

Buffy looked up at Willow, who was resting her chin on top of the Slayer's head reading through the rest of the conversation. "So, what do you think of him? Apart from the fact he's an embarrassing pervert?"

"I guess he seems kinda...okay..."

"And not at all demony," Buffy grinned.

[Scarph: E-mailed it.]

[Summesby: Thanks!]

[Scarph: I hope you're really looking forward to seeing me in all my naked, fat and hairy glory...]

[Summersby: ...]

[Scarph: //smirks\]

[Summersby: Tell me you're joking...]

[Scarph: And ruin the shock impact? Never!]

Shaking her head, Buffy opened her e-mail inbox as soon as a small window popped up, telling her she had mail. It opened into an e-mail entitled 'Beauty and the Beasts' and contained a single line of text: Here's a couple of photos. The big one if of me and my two friends. I'm the one at the bottom left. The other is me on my lonesome.

The picture was apparently a large one, slowly downloading into a window and Buffy was looking at it nervously. She knew vaguely what he friend looked like, but she had never dared to imagine him as anything other than good looking.

A head came into sight. The face was that of a laughing man, with a thick mass of brilliant orange hair and a wide smile on his face. Brown eyes were glinting with laughter and he was...was he wearing a bathrobe?

It looked like a bathrobe.

Or at least, something blue...maybe a sheet with sleeves...

[Summersby: The pictures downloading. Is the guy Ron?]

[Scarph: That's him. The girl beside him is Hermione.]

[Scarph: I still can't believe they're actually...a couple...]

[Summersby: It's kind of like Xander and Willow were...only without spikes through guts and everything.]

[Scarph: I don't know...spikes in guts might come into it soon...if he touches another one of her books, heaven help him...]

Buffy chuckled, looking back at the picture. She knew his friends almost as well as he knew of hers. Their hours of conversation had found a strange parallel between their close-knit groups.

She had Willow, the smart one, and Xander, the funny one, with Dawn as a kind of decorating piece who tended to crush on her sibling's friend. He had Hermione, the smart one, and Ron, the funny one, and Ron's younger sister, Ginny, who seemed to crush on him.

Of course, he didn't know that she was the Vampire Slayer. He just assumed she was a student, struggling to raise a sister. She also knew that was keeping something similar from her, because he never really elaborated on exactly where he worked and what he did.

Apparently, he was some kind of teaching assistant and worked with his Godfather's best friend at the school he had attended. He repeatedly had remarked on how dull the current pupils were, compared to him, his friends and his godfather.

He had also informed her that in a week, he would be going back to the school he taught at and they didn't provide internet access, so he wouldn't be able to contact her, except by normal mail.

It had been a depressing slap in the face for the Slayer who was starting to get very attached to the nice man on the other end of her internet connection. Apparently, he felt just as bad about it, so they were talking as much as they could before he had to lose his connection.

The picture was half-loaded and Hermione's face had just come into sight. She did kind of resemble Willow, or at least had a touch of the old Willow, the Willow who was utterly exasperated by the fact that she and Xander wouldn't study enough.

Buffy's fingers drummed impatiently on the desk.

[Summersby: Couldn't you have...I dunno...shrunk the picture?]

[Scarph: When I can annoy you so much more by forcing you to be patient? ;-) I don't think so.]

[Summersby: Evil little man.]

[Scarph: Of course!]

Above her, she heard Willow laughing. "You really have a way with the guys, Buff."

"Its kind of nice to be able to speak to someone like that," Buffy answered. It had been too long since she could be comfortably casual with people, instead of running around and hiding her identity.

With the computer as a middleman, she could be herself without fear of her identity erupting into the public spectrum.

Her eyes went back to the picture, as a couple of tufts of dark hair became visible at the bottom of the large picture. As he had mentioned, his hair was black and stood up in all directions.

His forehead came into sight and she could see a thin, lightening-shaped red scar just above his right brow. The top of his glasses appeared and his face was just starting to show, when the window pinged.

[Scarph: Lalalala...]

[Summersby: And you said I needed to be patient!]

[Scarph: //smirks\]

[Scarph: I was distracting you, so the picture could open without you seeing it.]

Willow was laughing softly as Buffy went back to the other window, muttering rude things under her breath in the direction of her British friend, but her words trailed off as she got a look...

"Oh my God..."

"That's him?" Willow gasped.

Buffy managed to blink.

It wasn't exactly a high-quality picture, but whoa!

When he had said extravagantly good-looking, he hadn't been joking.

Squatting down in front of his two friends, he was looking up at them and was laughing at the same thing as Ron, his smile one of those wonderfully infectious ones that made even the most surly person smile back.

Green eyes twinkled behind glasses, which didn't seem to make him look at all geeky. In fact, they actually looked like he would be naked without them. And Buffy definitely went scarlet at that thought.

Scrolling down carefully, her mouth fell open at the next picture.

While the first one was a little...fuzzy, the second was perfect.

In form and in content.

It looked like someone had caught him in a playful mood. He was looking up at the camera from beneath his fringe, a naughty little smile on his lips, his brilliant emerald eyes sparkling with amusement.

But, she noticed dazedly, his eyes did seem to be shadowed by something...

She recognised the expression, because she had seen it far too many times. She saw it every morning when she looked in the mirror. She had seen it in Willow's eyes, months before. She had seen it in Faith's eyes, when they had been enemies, in Angel's, whenever he had looked at her.

Clearly Harry wasn't as simple a character as she had assumed.

And hello hotness!

She was captivated.

Utterly captivated.

It took several pings from her message box to get her attention.

[Scarph: Hellllooooooooooooooooo?]

[Scarph: //drops a pin\]

[Scarph: Am I that bad?]

[Scarph: //pouts\]

[Scarph: Nobody loves me...]

[Scarph: Ahem...? Nobody loves me - need words of reassurance? And hugs! Hugs are good!]

[Scarph: HELLOOOOOOOOOO!!]

[Scarph: //sniffles\]

[Scarph: //looks around to see if anyone is paying any attention, THEN sniffles some more to get pity\]

[Summersby: Whoa...]

[Scarph: She LIVES!!]

[Scarph: I thought my ugly mug had killed you there!]

[Summersby: Pretty close guess. You didn't tell me you were so cute!]

[Scarph: I don't do cute! I do butch and macho!]

[Summersby: Uh...huh...]

Buffy went back to the picture, then bit on her lip and looked up at Willow, who was staring at the picture with a similarly impressed expression. Her eyes flicked to Xander, who seemed absorbed in his TV show.

"Will, do you think...I've been wanting to meet this guy all summer..."

The red head gnawed on her lower lip, then nodded. "He seems okay and if he isn't, you can always make with the slayage..."

[Summersby: Harry?]

[Scarph: Yup?]

[Summersby: Would you be able to come over here before you go back to school?]

[Summersby: And no, it isn't just cos you're cute...]

[Scarph: We did discuss it a few days ago, didn't we? //grins\ And of course you don't want to get your hands on my juicy little arse. That couldn't be the reason. Not at all. You just ask after I send you a picture of me. Hmm. What a coincidence.]

[Summersby: //glares\ You didn't give me a straight answer last week. Gimme one now. Would you be able to come over to America? I want a chance to smack you upside the head in person.]

[Scarph: //laughs\ I asked my Godfather about it and he thinks I'm barking mad to want to meet up with someone I met on the internet. I would just need to know how to get to you.]

Buffy blinked.

Yes, they had discussed it before, but she hadn't imagined him getting a positive answer that quickly.

"Ho boy..."

[Summersby: You'd have to fly into Los Angeles airport. L-A-X. I'm pretty sure we could come down and pick you up.]

[Scarph: Just looking up flights...found one...could be there by tomorrow at noon, if I leave now, for a few days.]

[Summersby: //blinks\ That fast?]

[Scarph: Changed your mind already?]

[Summersby: No! Not at all! You really want to come and meet me?]

[Scarph: Well, I have to see for myself if you're a hairy yeti of a woman, since you refuse to send me pictures.]

[Summersby: Pig.]

[Scarph: That's me! So, tomorrow, LAX at about noon-ish, if all goes well?]

[Summersby: You can't have booked a flight that fast!]

[Scarph: Skilled fingers //waggles brows\]

[Summersby: You're really coming over?]

[Scarph: Really really.]

[Scarph: How will I recognise you?]

[Summersby: //grins\ Look for the short blonde with the red head.]

[Scarph: Right. Short, blonde yeti woman with red-haired companion...got it noted.]

[Scarph: I better go and get packed and to the airport and all that. See you tomorrow! And if you're not there, I'll cry!]

[Summersby: Don't worry, Harry. I'll be there. I kind of want to see what you're like in person too. And I still owe you a slap upside the head.]

[Scarph: Rowr, tiger! //grins\ I'll see you tomorrow.]

[Summersby: Yeah...bye for now!]

[Scarph has logged off]

Buffy blinked at the screen.

"Oh...my...God..."

"Uh huh..."

"What's up?"

Buffy and Willow both turned to look at Xander, who was still munching cheerfully on the bowl of popcorn. "Um...Harrys coming to visit before he goes back to the school he teaches at..."

"I thought he goes back next week. He won't have time..."

"He arrives tomorrow at noon..."

"WHAT?!?"

Buffy stood up. "I think I should go and tidy up..."

"Where is he going to sleep?"

"Couch, I guess...or my bed."

"BUFFY!"

Buffy went scarlet. "I mean my bed while I sleep on the couch!" she protested.

"Yeah," Willow grinned wryly. "A hottie like that, in your bed, alone..."

"Hottie?" Xander raised his eyes skywards. "Buffy, remember the last time you liked a guy because he was hot? One, Angel. Big bad vampire. Two, Riley. Went for vampire suck-jobs. Three, Spike. Do I need to say more?"

"At least I'm consistent," she offered, before hurrying out of the room and up the stairs to go and check she wasn't getting any zits.

***

On the other side of the world, Harry Potter was staring at his computer screen in shock. What on earth had he just done?

He, the famed defeater of You-Know-Who, Assistant Teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin First Class, had just agreed to meet a complete stranger in a strange place, in America.

No, not a complete stranger.

He and Buffy had been talking daily for three months.

Usually, for about six hours a day, at least.

Still, he knew that there was something she definitely hadn't told him about her. It was something in the way she acted, when they talked online. There was a sadness in her that he could sense, but she wouldn't talk about it.

The first time he had spoken to her, so many days ago, he had liked her instantly.

It was rare in the chatroom, where they had bumped into one another.

Many of the people who appeared in it were the usual kinds of weirdoes that were found on the internet, but she did seem genuinely nice and he took it that she wasn't about to murder him in revenge for the defeat of You-Know-Who.

At least, he hoped she wouldn't.

After all, she didn't seem to know about the wizarding world.

To all intents and purposes, she seemed like a nice, genuine, normal muggle girl. It was a refreshing change to have someone to talk to, who didn't gasp, bow and back away from him at the first mention of his name.

And she was a great person.

For the first time in what felt like years, someone had made him smile. And then laugh again. He had forgotten how to laugh, but she had reminded him, with her sweet, quirky nature and tendency to accidentally pun at random moments.

He really did like her and hoped she liked him too.

Although, again, the wizarding...stuff would take a lot of explaining.

Pushing his seat back from the computer that Sirius had got for him, a special, muggle treat to make up for all the years that Harry had been with the Dursleys and barricaded from Dudley's computer.

It was a nice addition for his already comfortably cluttered bedroom in the fairly small house they lived in a few miles from Hogwarts. Standing up, Harry crossed his bedroom's wooden floor to flop down on the bed that stood against the opposite wall, under the window.

The morning sunlight was pouring in on him and he knew he looked a state, in his scruffy grey dressing gown, boxer shorts and a pair of black, furry, dog-head-shaped slippers, his joke birthday present from his former guardians.

After all, it was only five o'clock in the morning, nine o'clock the night before in Buffy-time, and he knew he ought to get some more sleep, but it wasn't necessary unless he wanted to. He could come and go as he pleased for the most part, sleeping, eating and doing anything at whatever time he felt like.

He liked his home with Sirius and Remus. His godfather and the werewolf were two of his late father's best friends and he loved them both dearly, but he knew they would still have his guts for garters if they knew what he was planning.

"Yes, Sirius," he imagined saying to his Godfather. "I'm going to America to meet a girl I met through a random chatroom and she doesn't seem to be a witch, but I think I've gone and got a crush on her and I want to see if she's as nice in the flesh as she is in the text..."

A crush.

That was putting it mildly.

While he had never discussed anything regarding the wizarding world with Buffy, they had talked about almost everything else under the sun and had found that they did seem to have a lot in common.

Their choices of closest friends were amusingly similar, their love-lives equally disastrous although he hadn't been able to detail too much in case he gave the wizarding world away, their families broken, their disregard for the rules too similar, their lack of studiousness legend.

He liked her.

It wasn't like the teenage physical attraction he had felt for Cho Chang for three years at Hogwarts, simply because she was pretty and good on a broom. It definitely wasn't the brief, post-battle-relief fling he had had with Ginny.

It was something different.

It...

It was like Ron and Hermione.

The pair of them were such good friends that the step up to being lovers had been an inevitable transition.

Harry already felt so much closer to Buffy than he had to anyone, with the possible exceptions of his two best friends. He didn't know what she looked like, but he found himself thinking that he didn't really care, either.

Strange, he mused, for a man to think with his brains instead of his knob.

She could be a six-foot-eight gorilla woman with a penchant for wearing sequins and stilettos and he knew he would still find her wonderful. He sincerely hoped that it wasn't the case, but if the worst came to the worst, he could face it.

Harry groaned with the realisation, which had come with that thought.

There could only be one reason that he didn't mind that his latest best friend would look like a gorilla.

He loved her.

He loved the silly little Summersby on the other end of his internet connection.

All he knew about her was her forename, her date of birth, a little of her appearance, her favourite music, foods, colours, things to do, places to go, her friends names and ages and her family situation and...

Well, apparently, he knew everything about her except her surname and that one big, gloomy secret that seemed to be overhanging everything.

And if she turned out to be a dark sider...

"You are in so much trouble, Potter," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Rolling back onto his feet, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the wall and grimaced. Well, he was going to have plenty of time to wash, shave, clean himself up and pack a little, before apparating there.

Once again, he was eternally grateful for the wonder of apparation.

***

"C'mon, Buffy!"

"But I need to change!"

"You've changed five times already!"

The Slayer appeared at the top of the flight of stairs, wearing a cream blouse and chocolate trousers, a three-quarters length matching jacket over it. "But I don't want to look too formal..."

"You look great, Buffy! If we don't leave now, we're going to be late!"

Casting another glance down the hall towards her bedroom, Buffy bit on her lip, wondering if she might be safer wearing her original choice of the black-pants-red-shirt combination.

"Come on!" Dawn had run up the staircase, grabbing her arm. "You don't want to leave your hot online boyfriend waiting at the airport so someone else can snatch him before we get there!"

Dawn had been informed of the impending arrival of Buffy's 'friend' at breakfast and she had immediately decided that the two had been secret lovers forever and a day. She was taking great pleasure in teasing her sister.

"But..."

"No more buts!"

They Slayer allowed herself to be dragged out to the car, where Xander was waiting impatiently for them and had been for the last half hour, looking very cynical and grouchy about the whole affair.

"Okay...I'm ready..."

"And you look great," Willow said, as Buffy and Dawn slid into the back seat. "He's gonna be blown away."

"No! No blowing away! He's just a friend!" Dawn and Willow gave her identical looks. "Okay, a very cute friend with a gorgeous smile and eyes, but he's still just a friend, okay?"

"You know what they say...its not just a river in Egypt..." Dawn sing-songed.

"Shut up," Buffy mumbled, going a fetching shade of scarlet.

***

Apparating into a toilet cubicle in Los Angeles airport - and luckily avoiding landing in an occupied one - Harry carefully opened the door and eased out into the lavatories, wondering if anyone would notice that he had just appeared.

Apparently no one had.

After checking the floor plan for the whole airport through the internet and some magic, he had located the best place to arrive, so it still looked like he had come in on one of the last flights, without the trouble of going through passport control.

Hurrying across the floor to the mirror, he ran a hand through his unruly black hair, covering over his scar in case there happened to be any witches or wizards about. He really wasn't in the mood for being tackled by a rabid fan girl again.

It had happened the last time he was in Diagon Alley and he still went scarlet at the memory of it.

Part of him wished someone else had been the one to destroy Voldemort. It got a bit too much, everyone knowing who he was, everyone staring at him as if he were some kind of radiant, supreme being.

He was just Harry.

Not many people remembered that.

To them, he was the Boy-Who-Lived-and-destroyed-You-Know-Who.

He just wanted to be Harry again.

Shaking his head with a rueful half smile, he made his way out of the bathroom and into the swarming crowds of people, a rucksack slung onto his shoulder.

The brilliant, blinding sunlight flooded into the halls, a blur of faces and colours washing passed him. Joining in with them, his eyes darted here and there, trying to take in everything around him.

He had no clue how he was going to recognise Buffy.

Yes, she would have a red head with her, but surely there had to be more than one red head in the Los Angeles airport?

"There he is!" he heard a girl's voice call out, loudly. "BUFFY! I SEE HIM!"

Looking around for the source of the voice, around the crowded halls, he saw a tall, slim, dark-haired teenager waving wildly at him. Just to her left, a red-haired girl was standing and beside her...

Harry's heart leapt in shock.

Hazel eyes were staring back at him. His tongue nervously moistened his lips and he swallowed hard, as his feet carried him forward of their own accord towards this small, delicate, beautiful woman who was gazing up at him out of tragic eyes.

Stopping in front of her, barely even aware of the two others beside them, Harry couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her face. "Would I be right to think that you're Buffy?" he asked.

"Uh..." She blinked at him. "Uh...yeah...and you...you're Harry."

He felt a smile lifting his lips. "You're very astute," he said, holding out a hand to her, although he really wanted to hug her, his tiny and pretty little friend with the sad eyes and the cute nose.

She was nothing like he had imagined, and yet, she was.

So small, dainty and fragile looking. She looked like a flower that he could crush in one hand, her eyes haunted by something so tragic that he wished he could just protect her from the world.

Her small hand slipped into his larger one and both of them gasped at the contact, but she didn't pull away. Her fingers just seemed to...fit between his.

"Would it be rude of me to hug you?" he asked carefully.

"Um..."

"That would be a BIG no on the rudeness," the brunette translated eagerly. "Hug her. She doesn't mind."

"Dawn..." Buffy managed to say in a chastising tone of voice, then smiled slightly at him. "Sure, we can hug."

Lowering his rucksack to the ground, Harry bent a little - after all, she only reached his shoulder - and slid his arms around her, pulling her against his chest and burying his face in her honey-coloured hair.

Her hair smelt delicious, like jasmine and honeysuckle, the soft warmth radiating from her, reminding him just how long it had been since he had touched anyone, or wanted to be touched.

He felt her rise on her toes, felt her arms wrap around his neck and hug him back, her warm, soft cheek pressing against the side of his neck. He could feel her breath rushing over the hairs on the back of his neck, raising goosebumps on his skin.

Her breathing was as staggered as his was, hot, sweet and rapid, almost as quick as his pulse was going. She was as nervous as he was, yet...yet she was hugging him as much as he was hugging her.

Damn...

Why couldn't she have been a hairy gorilla woman who he would be able to walk away from without feeling like he had to take her with him?

Sirius was going to kill him.

He'd gone and fallen in love, completely, head over heels, and he knew, without question, that there was no way he was giving it up.

Yep, it was settled.

Sirius was going to kill him.