Author's Thanks: Moony'sMate, thanks. I wasn't sure anyone was still reading it, that's why its not being updated so often. Glad you're enjoying it.

656

When Willow, Ron, and Draco entered the kitchen, they were surprised to see Lavender, Hermione, and Amy there. The three girls were standing by the mixer, putting in chocolate chips. Greeting them, they walked to the fridge and opened the door, shifting things around curiously.

"Hey," Lavender smiled. She looked uncertainly at Draco, obviously wondering what he was doing with them. "Love the hair, Willow. How did you convince Professor Snape to allow you to do that? He certainly doesn't let us do such things."

"Well, I didn't actually ask him," she started to say, twiddling her fingers nervously.

"You're kidding?" Lavender's eyes got very wide in her face. "You just went out and had your hair done like that? Was he very angry?"

Willow winced, remembering the whole conversation. "You…could say that."

Amy wondered what was going on and made a mental note to ask Willow later about it. While listening to them absently, she turned off the mixer. How on earth, she wondered, had they conned her into making cookies with/for them?

"Girl, you've got guts going up against Snape like that. I envy you," she sighed. "I've always wanted to do something radical but never had the nerve. Did it hurt?"

"Why would it hurt?"

"Because it looks so extreme," she answered, now puzzled. "I mean, it's your whole head."

"Oh, that," Willow shrugged. "Then in that case, no. In fact, it was so painless and natural, I didn't even notice it happening." And wasn't that a truth, she thought wryly.

"Are you going to keep it?" Hermione asked.

Shaking her head, she grabbed a spoon and reached into the bowl, scooping up some cookie dough. "I doubt it. I mean, while the look works for some, it just makes me look washed out." Putting it in her mouth, she savored the taste.

"Do I detect a hint of criticism about my own looks?"

Turning around, they saw Draco standing behind them. Though his face was mostly full of his usual haughtiness, there was a hint of hurt in his eyes.

"No," Willow quickly said, flushing slightly. She couldn't believe that she had been so careless as to forget he was in the room. Honestly, she sometimes feared she was becoming self-centered. "It works for you. You were born for the look."

"I suppose not everyone can carry off the look of a Malfoy," he said.

"Not everyone wants to," Ron muttered darkly.

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, hard. "Want some?"

"Aren't we already having some?" Amy asked, confused, the empty spoon in her hand. Hermione's question seemed rather odd when they were already snacking on the dough.

"I meant after they have been cooked. Eating cookie dough is not only bad mannered but extremely unhealthy," she sniffed.

"Oh, dry up," Lavender said, scooping up some more onto her spoon and defiantly putting it in her mouth, making a show of eating and enjoying it. "Mmmmmm."

"Lavender!" Whatever else she was going to say was cut off when the Gryffindor girl shoved a full spoon into her mouth.

"Sorry," she said innocently amidst the laughter. "Were you going to say something?"

656

Kendra sat on the hotel bed, methodically pulling off her boots and placing them to the side. In the background, she could hear the shower running and feel the steam through the crack under the door easily. Her watcher had found the demon population of Sunnydale to be…varied and had the misfortune to have been doused by a slime demon.

Rising to her feet, almost wearily, she unpacked their meager belongings and put them away. Once that was done, she secured the room against a vampire attack. Then, sitting cross-legged on the ground, she did some deep breathing exercises. After all, it wouldn't do to let their trip disrupt their established work schedule, she thought ironically.

Tensions slipped away as she fell into what she knew, even if the feel of the Hellmouth still reached out to her, making her skin crawl. The desire to go out and do something slowly bled out as she relaxed into what she knew.

"Don't forget your stretches," Mr. Zabuto said, exiting the bathroom. Glancing up at him slowly, she saw him critically studying her, a towel wrapped around his neck. "Did you hear me?" he asked, walking towards the bed. Reaching into his bag of personal items, he pulled something out and went back into the room.

"Yes, sir," she obediently murmured. Hands and feet braced against the ground, she pushed her body up. Once she had formed a bridge, she pushed up with her legs until her hands supported the full weight of her body.

Counting to a hundred, she let her legs fall forward till her toes touched the ground. Then, she stopped the motion of her body. Again, the count was one hundred before she kicked back up into a handstand.

After doing this exercise a few more times, she lay her body back down on the ground, breathing deeply. Rolling over to her right side, she did a few leg lifts-again, the count was a hundred. Once down, she did the left side. Standing, she picked up the Bible and bent forward.

Holding it in her hand, she raised them up and towards the ceiling. Then she slid the Bible over until it rested in both her hands. In that position, she breathed slowly and did her customary count to one hundred before lowering her arms. After a moment's lull, she repeated the exercise.

When her exercises were done, she sat down and wrote in her work journal of her actions and what they had done that day. She had almost finished when her watcher approached and held out his hand for it. Handing it over, she waited for him to give her his report on it, knowing that she wouldn't be allowed to go to the bathroom until he had dismissed.

"It is passable," he put it down. "I trust that your work output will increase in productivity and skill while we are here."

Not knowing what else to say, she remained silent, head bent.

"You may go clean yourself," he said, climbing into the bed. From the dresser drawer, he removed a cell phone and dialed a number. "Go on."

Nodding, she went into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her. It bothered her that he had this phone in his possession. They had never needed such things back home. Why did the Council think he needed one now? And why would he accept it?

656

Buffy left the mansion and shook her head. Meeting up with Professor Lupin ranked up there in the category of the weirdest meetings she'd ever endured. Unlike those meetings, at least this teacher had no intention of putting her on display.

Or killing her, which is what she feared the Watcher's Council was going to attempt to do. She was by far the most successful slayer the world had seen. Of course, that could be a bit of arrogance talking. But she had saved the world several times already. So, she was just being honest in her assessment of her job.

And it irked her that the council was bent out of shape because they bent the rules a little.

Thinking of her friends and their continuous involvement, she smirked, letting out a laugh. Okay, so they broke their rules a lot. And they were definitely repeat offenders.

Well, if the rules made sense, she'd follow them with little argument. May be.

"Slayer," a voice hissed.

The stake was out and in the heart before any other message could be exchanged. Shaking her head at the very fact that they never seemed to change their opening lines. It was like they thought she didn't know who she was. She started home, slowing down when she saw Giles' car. "What's up?"

"Your mother called, she sounded upset."

"Uh-oh," she opened the door and got in, fastening the seat belt. "I told her that I was going to be studying with Will tonight, but forgot to mention that she's not staying at her home. Mom probably tried to call."

Giles was silent for a moment, debating about what to say. And how to say it, before he replied as gently as he could with such blunt news. "I think it is worse than that, Buffy. The Council stopped by and talked to her. They may have informed her as to the true nature of your nightly outings."

Her eyes widened and her breath came in gasps. "She knows?" It was the only thing she could think of for why they'd stop by and see her mom. But what could they hope to gain?

"I believe that that is a distinct possibility," he said.

"What am I going to say to her?"

"As to that," he started.

"I've got to talk to Willow," she said, biting her lip. "She'll know what to do. Giles, stop the car."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Buffy, I will take you to the mansion, stop panicking. But you should speak to your mother first. This may be nothing."

"Nothing?" she practically shrieked. "Giles, the Council told my mom that I'm the Slayer. How is that not nothing?"

"We don't even know that they have," he replied.

"You said that they did," she accused. Her finger shaking at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I was going for the worst case scenario," he informed her. "But you know the Council as well as I do, they wouldn't go against all their long-held beliefs unless there was a good reason."

"But to tell my mother," she practically whined.

"Don't whine," he scolded absently, finally finding a place to turn around so that he could take her to the mansion. It wasn't so much her words but the tone in it that he tuned out.

She continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "If anything was wrong, they'd tell you. Or Mr. Zabuto, you both are watchers with your own slayers. Telling you doesn't break their rules. What if they told my mom out of spite? What if they told her so that she would stop me? I mean, with Kendra and her watcher already here, they've got the power back in their hands. Oh, I think I'm going to be sick."

"May be you should try breathing," he dryly suggested. "And leave the babbling to Willow."

"I wasn't babbling," she denied.

"Close enough," he muttered. "Buffy, we don't know what is going on. I shall talk to your mother while you are with Willow. Perhaps you should stay the night, don't you wear the same size as Willow?"

"For the most part," she shrugged. Both breathed a sigh of relief as they pulled up at the house. "I'm sorry for being such a pain, Giles."

He refrained from telling her he was used to it from her. "Don't worry about it, Buffy. You've just had a tremendous shock."

"Thanks." She impulsively hugged him. Opening the door, she ran up the path and knocked on the front door. Smiling at Remus, she turned and waved at Giles.

Driving off, he wondered if he'd done the right thing. Really, though, did he have any other choice under the circumstances? Buffy may be a smart girl, but she really didn't have much political savvy when it came to her mother.

Then again, neither did he.

Mrs. Summers was one of the smartest women he'd ever met, with the exception of Jenny Calendar, and she wouldn't be lied to easily. He sighed at the reminder of his old girlfriend, the wound inside still raw. She had left shortly after Angelus, never giving any of them a hint as to why. Or any that he would consider thinking about.

Shaking his head, he concentrated on driving. And figuring out what he was going to say to Joyce.

Seeing Amy walking along, he pulled over. "Would you like a ride home?" The witch climbed in, happy to be off the streets, and they drove off.

656

Buffy walked by, ignoring Remus' puzzled, half subservient look. "Willow?" she called out.

"Yes?" Willow looked down at her, waving Draco and Ron on up the stairs. "We'll continue this talk tomorrow."

"The Council is…yucky," she settled on the word.

"Yucky?" Willow repeated, as though she couldn't believe that Buffy had used the word when she was usually so much more…colorful with her insults.

"Yes, yucky," she repeated. "I almost said yicky, but with all the English people here, I didn't think I'd get away with it."

"Okay," she nodded gamely, still not quite sure what was going on. She had thought that Buffy had left earlier. If she had, what on earth had happened to bring her back to the mansion? "But yucky isn't actually a word I thought you'd use to describe them."

"So, I'm broadening my vocabulary. Got a problem with that?" she snapped.

"No, I'm all for broadening one's vocab," she held up her hands in surrender. "So, the council is being yucky, as per their normal mode of operations. Although, I doubt that they actually have any other way of working. We've certainly never seen it if they have and it would be nice to know that they aren't all ignoramuses who don't know that sometimes changing old ways is the best way to survive in this new world of ours. What with the increases in technology and faster travel, it is only right that the old ways of handling things should be modified for efficacy. I mean, I'm sure their rules worked well once upon a time, back when the workings of the world were much smaller. But things have gotten bigger and quicker. This isn't the same world. Well, it is but it isn't because…"

"Willow?" Buffy interrupted.

"Huh?"

"Not the point."

"Right, sorry," she flushed. "What did they do now?"

"They told my mom that I'm the Slayer," she bluntly said.

"What?" Willow gasped, eyes wide.

"Well, that's worse case scenario," she shrugged. Perversely pleased by the reaction she got from her friend. "Giles told me mom called the library. She sounded mad."

"Didn't you tell her we where studying? That's always been our cover story," she said, chewing on her lower lip. "So your mom doesn't get suspicious. Well, more suspicious than she already is. I think it's a parent thing, kinda wish my parents worried about me like that."

"I did," she said defensively. "I just didn't tell her about your new number." The last bit was said in a smaller, more sheepish tone of voice. The fact that she had forgotten such an important detail embarrassed her.

"That's so not of the good." She wrapped an arm about Buffy's shoulders, squeezing it comfortingly.

"Then he told me that the Watcher's Council was at my house," she leaned into the touch. After a moment or two, they went to sit on the bottom step. "Hope you don't mind my dropping by, I just didn't know what else to do. My mom's going to kill me when I can't deny what the council said and tell her that I really am the Vampire Slayer."

"Ah, Buffy, you don't know that's what they told her."

"Well, what else could it be?"

"A scholarship?" she guessed.

Buffy pulled back, her eyes wide with disbelief. "A scholarship? Isn't that more your thing?"

"Right," she chewed her lip for a moment. "How about a proposal from some rich English Lord?"

"Through my mom?"

"He's conservative?" she tried, rubbing her back. "And he fell madly in love with you through Giles' glowing description of you?"

The slayer snorted at that, then laughed. "Will, you are priceless. Don't ever change."

Remus cleared his throat then. "Would you like to stay? Professor Snape will be away all night. He was called away to some emergency. In fact, he probably won't be back until sometime tomorrow morning, you could stay in his room."

"I'd appreciate that," she smiled at him. "Thank you."

"No problem," he mumbled and went up the stairs to change the sheets and wonder how he was going to tell the dark haired professor what he'd done. He could ill afford to stay up waiting for him, not when he had the students to watch. Nor could he get up early for the same reason.

They were hard enough to handle when he got a full night's sleep. He didn't know how Severus managed to do it year after year-especially once he started spying again. The stress of the children combined with facing Voldemort should've killed him long ago.

656

The sounds of him entering the room had slowly pushed its way through her sleep-clouded mind and she turned automatically towards him, one hand reaching out to him. "Lucius?" Narcissa sleepily asked, feeling the cold air enter the bed.

"Yes," he replied, slipping beneath the sheets. He released a sigh as the pressure on his body eased into the silken bed, soothing the aches the potion had not reached yet.

She scooted over and rested her head against his shoulder. "Bad night?" she asked, hearing the slight hiss escape him. Knowing that she must be resting against a bruise, she shifted until he relaxed. A suspicion filled her mind and she readied herself for the worst, though she knew this beating could easily have come from a raid.

But she was not naïve. She knew that this was the work of the Dark Lord himself. Lucius must have done something terrible indeed if Lord Voldemort had attacked him directly.

Lucius sighed, trying to get comfortable without further disturbing her. "The Dark Lord was most displeased with me. I forgot to do something that he asked me to weeks ago."

"It's about Draco," she flatly stated. A pain in the region of her heart started to ache and she let it, needing to focus on something beside what was happening right now. "He is angry because you did not bring him to the meetings. Or tell him about his invitation to join the Death Eaters."

A smart man would not deny it and Lucius had not gotten this far in life by being by stupid. "Yes. I told him that it had slipped my mind. I wanted to tell you before I did anything."

Narcissa closed her eyes, refusing to let the tears forming in them to fall. There would be no point in yielding to them when she had known this day was coming. But it was one thing to mentally know that it was happening. It was quite another thing to actually have to deal with it.

"I knew that you would chose the Dark Lord over me. Don't say anything else; there is no reason for your comforting lies to me. It is with him that your heart's total loyalty resides. Take Draco to the next meeting, I don't wish you to be further hurt for the promise you made me. Just don't come back into this bed for you will find no welcome here. You've made your choice, now I am making mine."

"Narcissa," he started.

"Don't," she interrupted. "I am still all that you need me to be. I'll not betray you. But I am a selfish woman; I will not be second in you life. I want all of you for me, save the love that rightfully belongs to our son. I want nothing of what you would give me now. I will accept nothing less, you knew well when you married me." With those words, she got out of the bed and walked out of the room.

Lucius closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of regret. If he had been any other man, he might have followed her. He might have tried to repair the damage his choice had wrought between them. He might have tried to get her back, for he did love her after a fashion.

Narcissa had been the one to bind his wounds, to help him put his shattered life back together. She had stood beside him in the worst of times, as well as the best of times. She had shown extreme loyalty to him and he had always appreciated that. On her word alone, he'd been exonerated for the crimes that many knew he was guilty of-but they couldn't prove anything against that stance of hers.

But he was Lucius Malfoy.

He had made his choice. All of his time, talent, and energies were the Dark Lord's. He had no further use of a wife, perfect though she had been for him. This was what he desired above all else and he would accept the cold, barren loneliness with grace. For it was what he wanted.

And if a few tears of loss escaped his eyes, he heeded them not.

End, Part 10.