Title: Mysterious Ways
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: PG
Pairing: W/Bill Weasley
Genre: BtVS/Harry Potter Crossover
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things HP belong to JK Rowling et al. The song “Mysterious Ways” belongs to U2.
Distribution: WLS, WLF, NHA, BMP, Aislin, Serena, TTH, TQC.
Author’s Note: Pairing #27 at The Quickie Challenge: http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com

~*~*~

~It's alright...it's alright...it's alright
She moves in mysterious ways
It's alright...it's alright...it's alright
She moves in mysterious ways~

~*~*~

She had arrived at Gringotts out of nowhere, it appeared. His family had never heard of her, nor had his friends or circle of acquaintances. She was an enigma, though a pretty one.

“Willow? Did you want to come along for the job at the old Jacobs Manor?”

It was her smile that did it, Bill had decided long before, the thought only becoming further reinforced when she flashed that bright shiny grin at him. It was beautiful, like ray of sun peeking out from behind the clouds.

“Sure. If you don’t mind me tagging along, that is. Because, I can just stay here.” She flushed, glancing down at the paperwork on her cluttered little desk, the worst desk in the back rooms of the bank’s offices. She was the newest staff member and thus that was the position she ‘deserved’, though that seemed very unfair at times, especially when she was such a go-getter, such a hard worker. One of those desks on floor two would be nice for her, something near a window where her hair could sparkle in the sun.

And if that wasn’t proof positive that he had spent too much time thinking of the witch known as Willow Rosenberg, Bill wasn’t quite sure what was. He had even taken to thinking of her when he was alone in his flat, far away from work and anything involving curse breaking. Far away from her, the woman that perplexed him more than any other. He had thoughts of asking her on a date, of kissing those pink lips, of holding her in his arms and just protecting her from whatever bad memories there were that caused her to have such a sad look on her face at times.

Most of all he thought, and dreamt, of just getting to know her; of deciphering that woman behind the mysterious eyes and smile. The goblins had to know who she really was, where she came from, they were too careful of who they hired not to. But that didn’t mean she had shared any of that information with her coworkers, because she hadn’t. She was Willow Rosenberg, a wandless witch, from somewhere in the States.

But that was all they knew.

And he wanted to know so much more.

In silence they left the bank, using the back entrance. She followed him down the streets of Diagon Alley until they reached a relatively unused little corner. From there he took her hand and they Apparated.

He kept an eye on her as he worked, breaking the various curses around the artifacts that were being put up for auction or purchased outright by Gringotts to hold in their numerous vaults. The work was relatively easy, old man Jacobs hadn’t had it in him to put anything truly onerous on any of his possessions, knowing his grandchildren could stumble on them unwittingly.

She watched him studiously, as if she were expecting a test when they got back to the office. Which might not be such a bad idea, he reasoned. She was still in training, after all. Maybe a test would see how much she had learned in these past few months under his watchful guidance.

“That was amazing,” she whispered, following him out of the house, the artifacts carefully shrunk and stowed for travel. “You made it all look so effortless. I mean, when you just banished that Terror Hex like that,” she snapped her fingers, “That was impressive. I don’t think I’d even know the basics of doing one that complicated.”

Bill listened to her babbling patiently, having learned that it was just her way of communicating – all in one big rush as if she were afraid she would never be given another chance to speak. It was cute.

Oh, Merlin. He had just used the ‘C’ word. He had referred to something she did as ‘cute’. It was all downhill from here, of course. It was one thing to call a woman herself ‘cute’, although he had found that ‘beautiful’ or ‘stunning’ often worked better. It was another thing entirely to think her mannerisms were cute. That was the point at which you knew you were trapped.

Whether she had meant to or not – Willow Rosenberg had her under her womanly spell.

They Apparated back to Diagon Alley, and then wandered amiably down the streets, back to the bank, then to their offices. It was a companionable silence, the kind that didn’t leave either person feeling bored or lonely. He saw the look of surprise on her face when he didn’t immediately retreat back into his office, but instead followed her down to her own.

“We’re going to have a quiz of sorts,” he announced, shutting the door behind him. “Do you think you’re up to that?”

”Sure thing, boss-man. I was queen of quizzes in high school, lay it on me.”

There was a flash of pain in her eyes as she mentioned her schooling, back home. He saw it, but didn’t ask what cause that grief, knowing she would tell him when she was ready and not a moment sooner.

He started with the basics of curse breaking, firing the questions off rapidly since he knew that she was well acquainted with the beginner level material. Next came the mid-level curses and strategies and these, too, she was well ready for. Despite her awe inspired babble after his performance at Jacobs Manor, she could have handled the situation just as easily as he had, if not better.

So he moved on to the last progression – difficult hexes and curses, how to stop them and set them, as well as cure any ails they may inflict if not disarmed properly. Here, too, she was a master of knowledge, dazzling him with the speed of her answers.

“You’ve studied,” he murmured, giving her a sly smile.

Willow just shrugged it off, a self-deprecating smile on her lips. “What else is there to do when I get home?”

That brought Bill up short. “How about going off with your friends? To that new club in Hogsmeade, perhaps? I heard from a couple of my younger brothers that its quite the spot to be on the weekends.”

The red haired witch snorted and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’m not much for nightclubs. Or. . . friends. . .”

Ouch.

There was some serious pain in her past. Something to do with some friends of hers, if he read her signals right.

He squatted down on the floor in front of her, grabbing up one of her hands and giving it a squeeze.

“I don’t know what happened to you, Willow. You don’t talk about where you’re from or what brought you here – and I’m okay with that. Most of the time. But. . . times like this? I think you need someone to talk to.”

“And that someone would be you?” she inquired with a sad quirk of her lips and a raised eyebrow.

“I’d like for it to be,” he admitted quietly, blue eyes gazing up into green ones – sapphire to emerald. “And if you’re not the type that likes to go clubbing – and believe me, that’s fine in my book – would you consider dinner some time? Maybe tomorrow night?”

It was the look in her eyes that nearly shook him to his knees, that utter shock coupled with the brief glimpse of hope that she just as quickly squashed. He would just have to prove to her that she could hope again, could live again. No matter what had happened in her past, nothing was that bad.

Just as she deserved more than the dingy little office she had been given, so Willow also deserved more from her life than she was currently getting out of it.

And he was ready and willing to help her in that category.

~*~*~

~It's alright...it's alright...it's alright
She moves in mysterious ways
It's alright...it's alright...it's alright
She moves in mysterious ways~

~*~The End~*~