Harry had had many days that could be considered bad during his life. There was that day he could only remember in his dreams, of which he could recall nothing but green light and screams. There was the first time he'd gotten a detention (because Billy who sat in front of him in homeroom had showed their math teacher a book he'd been carrying on witchcraft) and the time that that Miranda girl had given him a big red valentine in front of their entire class, who promptly burst into laughter. There was even the day the Whistler (who sounded like a comic book villain, in Harry's opinion) showed up on what poorly passed for their doorstep, ripping them away from their lives in New York to go help a little blond cheerleader with delusions of grandeur.

But this day, right now, was possibly the worst one he had ever had.

First he was grounded, then he had to do endless amounts of homework while locked in his stuffy room. He was hungry, too, but then again, so were the vampires, and that was what was really making the day one big bonanza of awful.

The two demons at his sides dragged him up to the stage effortlessly, as if they were moving something like a pillow, not a struggling boy. Unceremoniously, they threw him down before the vampire on the stage, who, Harry noticed, was much bigger than he'd previously looked.

"You bring me a child?" he hissed, his voice lisped because of the fangs. "The Master--"

"The Master will want him," said one of the vampires who had grabbed him, a blond with a generic leather jacket. "Feel him, Luke."

Harry shook his head frantically as the vampire--Luke--approached. "Ah, no, I really don't like to be … felt. It's kind of a personal thing--"

Luke leaned down and grabbed him by his shirt collar. As he rose back up, Harry nervously looked down at his feet, which were slowly rising off of the floor.

Once he was suspended in midair, Luke slowly sniffed the side of his neck, then licked across his cheek.

Harry groaned, pushing in futile against the (un)man's shoulders. "God, what's with all the licking? This is going to give me a complex!"

"A wizard!" declared Luke jovially. "A wizard child, here in Sunnydale. What an amazing find." He nodded approvingly. "The Master shall be pleased. Magical blood is that much stronger, even that of a muggle witch … but a true wizard …"

He abruptly let go of Harry, sending him falling to the ground. The boy barely managed to land on his feet, and stumbled backwards, but Luke pulled him them together.

Harry laughed nervously. "You know, there's really no need--"

"With one, final sacrifice," declared Luke, "the Master shall BE FREE!!"

"Hey, you know, you really don't have to kill me, I can, uh, I can lead you to the Slayer, or--or, a vampire with a soul! Bet that's rare, eh? Uh--um--"

The vampire's fangs were drawing dangerously close to his neck.

"You know, in jail, the child murderers always get beat up first …" He was babbling nonsense now, but he couldn't stop himself.

"And--and Angel--Angelus is gonna stake you--!"

Luke's fangs slid into his jugular, and he finally stopped talking.

Buffy Summers growled deep in her throat at the door's refusal to open. Behind it, she could hear music pounding and the muffled sounds of screams. The Harvest had already begun, people were being killed, and she couldn't save them because of a door.

"It's locked!" she declared needlessly, more to herself than to anyone else.

"We're too late," said Giles, who was practically thrumming with nerves. She could see him resist the urge to clean his glasses. Xander and Willow looked equally as anxious, each shifting from foot to foot.

"I didn't know I was going to get grounded," she said angrily.

"Can you break it down?" asked Xander hopefully, eyeing the door.

Buffy glanced at it. It was tall and metal, and securely locked. She was strong, but … "No, not that thing, I don't think. Uh … why don't you guys … try the back entrance? I'll find my own way."

"Right," breathed Giles. He touched lightly Willow on the arm and turned around. "Come on."

Buffy glanced down at what she was holding. "Uh, wait, guys! Here--" She handed Willow her bag. "Just--get the exit cleared, and get as many people out as you can. That's all. Do not go Wild Bunch on me, got it?"

Giles blinked. "Uh, of course. See you inside then …"

The three took off around the back, and Buffy sighed into the darkness.

How she missed cheerleading …

"Oh, joy!" said Willow lamely as she rattled the doorknob. It would only twist slightly to each side, which obviously meant that it, too, was locked.

Xander fidgeted, glancing over his shoulder down the alley. "We've gotta get in there before Jesse does something stupider than usual."

Giles's eyes flashed, and he grabbed Xander by the shoulders. "Now, you listen to me!" he shouted, shaking him slightly. "Jesse is dead! You have to remember that when you see him, you're not looking at your friend. You're looking at the thing that killed him!"

Xander frowned, and shook his head in denial. "But--but Jesse--"

"Is dead, Xander," he said, more gently. "I know it's hard to accept. But he was dead the moment his soul left his body. The--the thing in there … it has his face, it has his memories … but is not him. It's a demon, with no purpose other than to kill and cause pain. Jesse wouldn't have wanted his body used for that, would he?"

Xander stared at him, but after a moment of silence, Willow answered.

"No, no he wouldn't have." Her face was grave, and she looked about ready to burst into tears. "He should rest in peace. And--and we have to do what's right."

Angel took an unneeded breath and pocketed his stake. The grass was now covered in a fine layer of vampire dust, which was quickly being blown away in the wind.

"You know, I remember a time when vampires had class. Sires used to be picky about who they turned."

Turning on his heels, he sped off in the direction of Bronze, hoping against hope that his being delayed hadn't equaled Harry's death.

The Master's eyes snapped open, and he frowned.

The ceremony was going well, and he was almost free, but there was something odd about Luke's current offering. There seemed to be power with it, like an unusual concentration of magic.

A wizard, then. Those were rare.

His frown deepened. Magical blood would free him twice as quickly, but he didn't need a pack of angry wizards showing up to stake him. As group, they were all very talented vampire hunters. Instant fire and wooden wands, how pleasant.

Still, the power flowing through his veins was invigorating, unlike anything he'd felt for hundreds upon hundreds of years.

Slowly, he smiled. Let the wizards come, if they dared.

He would deal with them.

Buffy agilely slid though the window and onto the second floor balcony, being careful to stick to the shadows. She didn't see any vampires on this level, but she didn't want to be seen too early by some minion. Timing was key, and surprise could undoubtedly be used to her advantage.

Finally sure that the balcony was clear, she quietly got down onto her stomach and crawled army style to the edge. Her eyes roamed over the crowd, taking count of how many vamps she could see.

There were a lot of them.

Her luck was sucky.

She next glanced at the stage, where the vampire she assumed to be "The Vessel" was drinking yet another sacrifice dry. The person didn't look like anyone from the high school--

She paused and did a double take. Her eyes widened.

Was that … Harry? Angel's Harry?

"This one's mine!"

Darla growled, grabbing Cordelia's arm and pulling her roughly away from Jesse.

"There all for the Master," she spat. Cordelia whimpered. Were they gang members? On drugs? She thought Sunnydale didn't have a high crime rate! Were they a motorcycle gang?

"Don't I get one?" Jesse demanded.

"No, fool!" she shrieked. "This is The Master's night! Go kill a whore in the street if you want one so bad!"

Indignant, Jesse formed a reply, but was interrupted when the club's door flew open, the locks having broken clean off. All the vampires, even Luke, paused and looked up.

A tall figure in black entered, slowly surveyed the situation, and stepped into the light.

"Angelus?" Darla gasped.

The man smirked, carefully eyeing Luke. He headed toward Darla, even as her expression began to change to one of hate.

"Angelus!" declared Luke, holding Harry slightly away from him. The boy was conscious, but barely. "It's been a lifetime. Madrid, 1843."

"I caught you sleeping," he said, smiling toothily. "Yes, I remember."

"No, you're not," Darla continued, eyeing him warily. "You haven't changed. You still have that filthy--"

The stake was in her heart before anyone could react. She barely had time to look shocked before her body dissolved into ash.

The room was silent for a moment, stunned.

Angel smiled widely, though there was an unmistakable undertone of malice to it. "Fuck, I've always hated that bitch." He sauntered through the crowd and up onto the stage.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Luke. "You've been off the map for a hundred years. We thought you were dead."

Angel shrugged. "I heard the Master was having a little party. Thought I'd join in. Haven't had a nice bloodbath in a few decades."

"Everyday for you is a bloodbath, Angelus."

Angel nodded begrudgingly. "Yes, yes, but the old torture-maim-kill gets redundant after so many years of it. I decided that I should join my brethren on the Hellmouth, and become part of something great … part of something I always should've been … The Order of Aurelius."

Luke smiled slowly.

Buffy stared down at the stage in disbelief. Angel … was a vampire? Angel? That was the only thing that could explain it, though, no matter how hard it was to take in. The other vampires had recognized him, he apparently knew them, he was in Madrid a hundred and fifty years ago … But he just hadn't seemed like a vampire!

So, sure, she'd only talked to him once or twice, but he'd helped her, he'd been … friendly. Vampires weren't, though … he certainly wasn't anymore, from what she could see.

But, he'd told her about the Harvest. Why would he do that if he was aligned with The Master? Was it some elaborate trap?

She glanced at Harry, who was staring at Angel--Angelus--with glazy eyes.

And where, she thought abruptly, did he factor into this?

Harry felt like he was weightless. His legs and arms no longer seemed connected to his body, but he could feel what blood he had left thudding sluggishly through his veins.

He vaguely noticed that Angel was there, that he could hear his voice, but then again it might've been his imagination. He might've been dead, laying limply on the floor of the Bronze, or still being held in the vampire's arms while he drained him dry.

He wasn't sure he cared to know.

"That is, of course, if The Master would accept me," continued Angel, edging closer to Luke.

Harry's eyes were open, and he could hear his heartbeat, but it dangerously slow.

He made a show of glancing at the boy, then back at Luke. "And who's your friend, eh?" He stalked around Luke's back and leant over his shoulder, sniffing at Harry's hair A mixture of natural human scent and soap hit his senses, as well as the tangy odor of blood. The magic in the blood sent his senses crackling like a shockwave might, and he had to resist the urge to lick some of it off of the boy's neck.

Reminding himself firmly that he had a job to do, he leaned back slightly, smiling like a wolf.

"A wizard? Bravo, Luke. I'm sure the Master will be … pleased!"

As it had been with Darla, the stake punctured Luke's heart before he even knew Angel had it in his hand.

Angel pulled it out of the other vampire's back only a split second before he dissolved into dust.

Harry fell to the floor, smiling slightly.

"Told you he'd stake you," he muttered before slipping into the welcoming darkness, ignorant to the sudden chaos in the Bronze.

Author's Note: The writing bug hit! Finally! It's been like, what, a year? I feel guilty. :( But, anyway, I tried to make thsi chapter longer! I really did!

Anna