Sorry, took me a bit longer than I thought it would to get this part up, but it's still a faster update than usual, lol. Anyway, thanks to Gwen and LadySunflower for their beta skills and to everyone who reviewed.
The next chapter will likely take a while to get written since I have another fic I really need to work on first. Reviews might motivate me to write faster, though.
-1The Prophecy of the Four
Chapter 10- The Road Less Travelled Pt.2
It wasn't quite six a.m. when the Prime Minister of Britain dragged himself out of the Finance Minister's house and down the street to his car. Just as he'd been one of the last to arrive for the meeting, he was now the last to leave, along with General Baker. She had been giving him a thoughtful look for the past hour or so. As they were leaving, the tall, dark-skinned woman stopped him.
"Prime Minister?" she said.
"Yes, General?"
"I was wondering what you wanted me to do about your 'secretary'? Should I have someone keep an eye on him?"
"Um, no. I think that would prove unnecessary and rather pointless, since from what I gather these wizards can move instantly from one place to another using magic. I may not like the Minister of Magic very much at the moment, but I truly believe he has no ill intentions towards me."
"I see."
"I want to keep this arrangement as secret as possible, at least until we see what the reaction to Connie Price's article will be - assuming there will be an article. Someone tailing Shacklebolt would look suspicious."
"Very well, Prime Minister. I shall make the necessary arrangements and contact you sometime next week."
"Thank you; I wish you luck. And have a good weekend."
"You as well, Prime Minister."
With those words, they walked out of the house and parted ways as their cars happened to be parked on opposite sides of the street. Anthony searched the morning sky for traces of the sun and found it obscured by clouds, but still visible. He smiled wearily and began the walk to his car.
It had been a long night. A very, very long night. But Anthony felt calmer than he had in a long time. It had taken him a good hour just to convince everyone he wasn't clinically insane. In the end, it was the e-mail and photos from Connie that had made them listen - or at least give his sanity the benefit of the doubt.
Oh, and Minister of Transportation, Cedric Wright, apparently had a niece in France, who was attending some sort of 'special school' neither she nor her parents would talk about and who, despite being a rather bright young girl, was often found to be ignorant of some of the most basic things, such as literature, history and geography. He said this was surprising in view of how her parents insisted she was one of the best in her class (he had always just assumed they were exaggerating in the way parents sometimes do).
Yes, Wright's confession had also helped.
It also annoyed Anthony - if there were schools and Ministries of Magic in other European countries, then why was Britain the only one with such large-scale problems?!
He sighed and dug his car keys out of his pocket.
Once inside the car, he took a few moments to slump against the steering wheel. He took several deep breaths and then sat up. The meeting had gone well and they had come up with a tentative plan of action. Or at least enough of a plan that he could talk to Connie this afternoon with something pretending to be confidence.
He yawned as he started the car.
Vi yawned loudly. Then she went back to staring into space with bleary, half-lidded eyes. Eventually, she seemed to realize the mug of coffee in front of her was meant to be drunk, and took a sip.
"'Morning," mumbled Gwen from behind her as she wandered into the kitchen.
Vi grunted and raised a hand in greeting. Gwen poured herself some coffee and sat down beside the other girl. She closed her eyes and inhaled the blessed caffeine fumes.
"Mmm, coffee..." she said with a dreamy smile. Vi giggled and Gwen turned to her, raising an eyebrow at her. "What exactly are you doing up before ten?"
"I don't know," she answered in utter seriousness. "I had this weird dream and then couldn't fall back asleep."
"Oh?"
"All I remember was lookin' at that pickle building again and then suddenly there were men in black robes and I think someone might've been in danger..."
Gwen put down her coffee and stared at Vi.
"I had a similar dream two nights ago," she said with wide eyes, which turned thoughtful several seconds later. "Only there was a shop and some girl laying on the ground. And the robed guys - oh! And some girl with odd clothes, but wicked pink hair."
"Pink hair?"
"Yeah, it was, like, bubble gum pink!"
Vi thought about that for a moment.
"Nope, don't think there was any pink-haired girl in my dream."
"Too bad. But still, don't you think it's weird, us having similar dreams? I mean, you don't suppose it's a Slayer Dream, do you?"
"Hmm, don't know. Buffy said if we ever have one of those we'd just 'know'."
"I guess. My dream didn't particularly feel important. But, do you think we should tell Giles anyway?"
"Um, I guess -"
As if to prove a point, Giles chose that exact moment to rush into the kitchen. He didn't even seem to notice the two girls sitting at the kitchen table as he reached for the kettle and began preparing his morning tea in a whirlwind of motion.
Less than a minute later, he was out the door again while the kettle warmed on the stovetop. Vi and Gwen exchanged bewildered looks.
"Woah, was my eye deceived or was that dark, four-eyed blur really Giles?" asked Xander, stepping into the kitchen.
"I think it was," Gwen.
"It definitely looked like Mr. Giles," Vi agreed.
"Yo, it probably has something to do with the fuckin' phone ringing an hour ago," Faith said, stretching as she followed Xander into the room.
"New info, maybe?" Xander suggested.
"It had better be, yo, 'cause I was kinda enjoying being not awake."
Just as the kettle began to whistle, Giles bounded back into the kitchen carrying a stack of maps. He poured the boiling water into a waiting teapot. Then he began to unfold the first map. Suddenly, something whizzed past him and Giles jumped back. He stared at the knife now embedded in the wooden kitchen countertop for several moments, before turning around to face the table. He blinked at the four other people in the room, as if confused
At the table, Gwen and Vi stared up at Faith in horror. Faith, on the other hand, had her hands on her hips and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she grinned cockily at the head of the Watcher's Council. Behind her, Xander was hiding his laughter behind his hand.
"Yo, G-man," said Faith. "What's with this new ignoring us thing? There a fire or something?"
"Yeah, I've seen you calmer at apocalypses," Xander joked. Then he paused, his face becoming momentarily panicked. "There isn't another apocalypse, is there?"
"Don't call me that," said Giles. "And no, other than Dawn's mystery one, I have no knowledge of any apocalypses." He sighed and placed the map onto the stack on the counter. "I'm sorry, I wasn't intentionally ignoring you. The coven finally called me back this morning."
"Oh, so you really do have new info!" said Vi excitedly.
"Yes, I'm not entirely sure how useful it will be, but I do have a few new leads."
"Sweet!"
Giles smiled slightly and turned around to pour himself a cup of tea.
"So, did the coven know where to find Dawn?" Faith asked.
"Well, not as such. The head of the coven said she had to dig through some of their older archives in order to find anything of use. Apparently, they historically never had much contact with wizards -"
Just then the back door swung open and a tired and Lori walked into the kitchen, looking rather tired and glistening with sweat in her pink and grey jogging suit. Buffy walked in two steps behind her - not looking nearly as tired or sweaty despite the circles around her eyes.
"Good morning everyone!" Lori exclaimed with a wide smile. A chorus of 'good morning's answered her.
"Yes, good morning," said Giles. "You went out for a morning jog?"
"Yup! After that wretched telephone woke me up, I couldn't fall back asleep again. And since I've been feeling rather miserable lately, I decided to clear my head with a healthy morning jog."
"I couldn't sleep either," Buffy chirped in. "And this whole 'clearing my head' and 'getting cheery' thing sounded like a pretty good idea."
Everyone in the kitchen chuckled. As Lori went over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water, she noticed the maps sitting on the counter. She raised an eyebrow and looked to Giles.
"What's this?" she asked. "You lost your way?"
"No, that call this morning was from the coven leader."
"Oh?" Lori perked up. "Anything useful?"
"I'm not sure yet, but quite possibly yes. She basically confirmed what Buffy had found out, saying there is indeed a rather large community of wizards in England. She mentioned something about there being a magical shopping district in London on a street called Diagon Alley -"
"Yo, hold on a sec," Faith interrupted. "How big is this district? 'Cause, yo, I could swear we've been through this entire city, but I ain't heard about no magical shopping mall."
"I second that," said Buffy. "I so have a sixth sense for shopping malls. Magical or not, if there was on, I'd find it."
"Could it be hidden with magic?" Xander asked.
"Yes, that's what I've been thinking," Giles said. "However, unless it somehow exists in another dimension, then it should still be visible on a map if only by omission. Apparently, wizards here tend to keep to themselves and have very limited contact with outsiders so there might not be a whole lot of information in the library."
"Woah! You mean books don't have all the answers!" Xander exclaimed in mock horror. Giles glared at him.
"Okay, so why do you have several maps of England here as well?" Lori asked as she leafed through the stack of maps. Giles turned to her.
"Well, the coven leader also found mention of a magical village - possibly an all-wizard village - called Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade?" Xander repeated with a mischievous look in his eye. There was a long pause.
"Yo, Cyclops, you gonna make a joke there or what?" Faith demanded.
"Give me a minute, I'm thinking!"
"I think you overthunk it already," Gwen commented.
"You know," Lori began, thoughtfully, "that name sounds rather familiar. But I'm not entirely sure where I've heard it."
"Really?" Giles said. Lori nodded.
"I think it was in a book somewhere..."
"Well then, could try going through the library and figure out where you've heard of Hogsmeade before?"
She nodded. "Of course."
Giles turned to the others. "Xander, try and see if you can find anything online. Buffy, Faith, would you like to help me study these maps? Gwen, Vi, please go wake up the rest of the slayers. When we've figured out possible locations for this shopping district, we'll be sending out search teams to investigate."
And so, everyone set out to complete their appointed tasks.
Anthony Davidson looked both ways before entering the park. He wiped his sweaty palms on the light-weight khakis he was wearing before adjusting his navy blue baseball cap so that the brim lined up perfectly with his dark sunglasses.
The last thing he needed right now was to get noticed. He took a deep breath and headed, casually, for 'their' bench.
The park wasn't very full. On such a cloudy, depressing day most people probably didn't feel like venturing out, he supposed. A few joggers passed by him as well as a pack of rollerbladers and a few strollers. By the lake he saw an old man sitting on a bench reading the newspaper.
She was already there when he arrived. He stopped when he spotted her and just observed her for a while. It felt nostalgic - they used to meet here all the time back when they were seeing each other and no matter what he did she always managed to arrive first. Their sixth month anniversary had been the only exception and that was because he'd come half an hour early.
Connie Price turned her head and saw him. Anthony quickly began walking again, hoping she didn't know how long he'd been standing there. She stood up as he approached and held out her hand. Something inside him cringed at the professional greeting even as he took the offered hand and shook it.
"Hello, Anthony," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you again. I'm glad you agreed to see me. Thank you."
"It's good to see you too, Connie," he replied. "But you realize most of what I have to say will have to be off-the-record."
"Or from an anonymous source from inside the Prime Minister's Office? Yes, I was rather expecting that."
"Sorry. It's just that, well, I shouldn't be talking about this at all, you see -"
"So why are you then?"
He paused, thinking about his reply.
"Because I've had enough of watching horrible things happen in this country and not being able to do anything about it. No, not being allowed to do anything about it. It's rather frustrating getting blamed for something you have no control over when your hands are tied and unable to do anything to so much as fix things."
Connie was now watching him with narrowed eyes and he could tell she was paying attention to his every word even if she couldn't write it down. Damn, he'd forgotten for a moment that she wasn't just his ex-girlfriend, but a reporter. When he didn't continue, she reached into her purse and pulled out prints of the same photographs she'd sent him via e-mail.
"Alright then, now I realize you wouldn't be here talking to me right now if these were just an immature prank, but I still need to hear you confirm it. Are these real?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"So, you're not sure?"
"Well, I wasn't there and none of the officials who were at the scene later reported seeing anything like this, so I can't be completely certain -"
"None of the witnesses reported seeing anything either, so why do you think they're real?"
"Well, I have access to certain, um, classified information."
"Are the police and rescue teams also aware of said information?"
"No. Absolutely not."
"Who does know?"
"Only a select group of government officials. I'm afraid that's all I can say without putting anyone at risk."
"And the gas pipe explosions?"
Anthony blinked at her. "What?"
"The official explanation for all the recent incidents is faults in the gas pipe system resulting in explosions. I've had some professionals look into the evidence and they agree that it's highly unlikely that the damage was caused by an exploding gas pipe. So is that just a cover story?"
"Oh, uh, yes. Yes, we felt it was the best explanation that wouldn't raise too many unnecessary questions."
Anthony momentarily found himself wondering whose idea that had been in the first place. Connie paused for a moment, thinking.
"Who are they?" she finally asked, motioning to the figures in the pictures.
Anthony took a deep breath and prayed he remembered it correctly.
Buffy sat outside on the porch with her cell phone at her ear and waited, listening to it ring on the other side. Finally, someone answered.
"Hell- ehem, ciao this is-"
"Hey Andrew," Buffy cut him off. There was a pause.
"Oh, hello Buffy. How are things in England? Is Dawn safe and sound or is the situation so dire that you need me to rush over to your aid -"
"No. On both counts. Just stay in Italy for now."
"Oh, okay then." Another pause. "But, Dawn is alright...right?"
Buffy sighed tiredly. "I don't know. We have no idea where she is. I'm calling to let you know I'm not coming back anytime soon. I'm not leaving until I find her and hurt every single person who hurt her." The hand not holding her cell clenched tightly.
"Well, you're amazing, Buffy, I'm sure you'll find her and vanquish the supremely evil person responsible."
Buffy snorted and relaxed her fist. Suddenly, something occurred to her.
"Listen, Andrew, do you know anything about wizards?"
"Wizards? Um, not really. I think there's an underground community of wizards in L.A., but they're kinda exclusive in their membership -"
"Not in L.A., here in England. Or at least Europe, anyway. Apparently, there's supposed to be a huge community, complete with its own Big Bad Wizard."
"Oh, uh, I'm not sure. My information base was strictly American - me and the boys liked to stick to our own territory. But that's weird, you know. It's exactly what he asked about too. About wizards, I mean. And some sort of evil dark lord..." Andrew sounded thoughtful. Buffy frowned.
"Who asked?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, ehe s-sorry, I was just, uh, thinking out loud, babbling to myself, you know -"
"Who asked about the wizards, Andrew?"
She could practically feel him cringe, which only made her more determined to find out what he was hiding. From experience, she knew that anything Andrew felt he needed to hide tended to be fairly crucial. Or at least it meant he'd done something stupid that would come bite them all in the ass at a future date.
"J-just a friend."
"Andrew, your friends are dead. Try again."
"W-well, he kinda asked me not to -"
"ANDREW!"
There was a moment of silence.
"Spike," came the whispered reply. Buffy nearly dropped the phone.
Anthony felt very proud of himself as he finished his tale; he'd done it. Despite working on only two and a half hours of sleep and three cups of coffee, he'd managed to remember the story he and his colleagues had put together at four o'clock this morning.
Connie was silent for a while.
"Okay," she finally said. "Let me make sure I've got this right... So, you're saying that the recent string of accidents and strange deaths is being caused by a group of religious terrorists, who call themselves Death Eaters? And these terrorists have access to some incredibly advanced technology, which they've been using to wipe out all proof of their existence, including people's memories?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"I see. Why has the government kept this secret until now?"
"Well, first of all, we didn't want to needlessly alarm the public when we weren't quite sure what we were dealing with. Especially since, other than the obvious, the weapons they've been using to erase people's memories seem to have had no residual side-effects. Secondly, the terrorists have been taking great pains to remain hidden. We've been afraid that going public would only serve to aggravate them and prompt them to initiate something on a much larger scale since any further discretion would be pointless."
"That brings me back to my original question, if you're afraid for the safety of the public, why are you coming forward now?"
"The attacks have increased in both number and severity. It's gotten to the point where we have to take the risk, because ignorance is only hurting people more."
"I see. So, what's being done to stop them?"
"Uh, I'm afraid I can't say exactly. It would jeopardize the efforts. But suffice to say, there are quite a lot of people working very hard to fight these terrorists."
There was a pause, during which Connie collected her thoughts and Anthony resisted the urge to fidget. He waited with bated breath for her reaction. She just sat there, staring at him.
"Anthony," she said. He winced. It was 'the voice'.
"Y-yes?" he answered and cursed inwardly - she'd been testing him.
Connie sighed.
"You may be a fairly good politician, but you should know better than to try and lie to me. If you recall, your own mother taught me how to read the signs."
"What?!" he exclaimed, staring at her in surprise. Suddenly something made so much sense. "So that's where you learned to use that tone of voice!"
She blinked at him.
"You didn't know?"
"No!"
He looked away. He knew he was pouting, but he didn't care as he grumbled about interfering mothers. Connie laughed. For a moment, the tension around them lifted. Then, the intrepid reporter cleared her throat and fixed him with a hard look.
"Anyway, you're not changing the subject that easily. I want the truth."
Anthony sighed. Maybe he really should've just feigned ignorance. Still, it would all be worth the look on Fudge's face when he saw the article.
"You won't believe the truth," he said. "It actually sounds more made-up than the official explanation."
"The terrorists are the 'official explanation'?"
"Yes, as of four a.m. this morning."
She stared at him. "You realize you now have no choice but to tell me. My curiosity wouldn't let you sleep."
He chuckled, knowing the truth in that statement. "Alright, but first you have to turn off the voice recorder."
She did as he asked and, in return, he told her everything. She remained silent, listening to his tale with wide eyes. He finished and she blinked slowly several times.
"See, I told you it was unbelievable."
"So you did."
Neither one said anything for quite some time. They merely sat in silence. Anthony closed his eyes and rubbed his temples - lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him with a vengeance.
"You know, if you do end up getting kicked out of office, you could always write a book," Connie suddenly said. Anthony's eyes flew open and he looked up at her. She smiled at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Could make you millions."
He snorted.
"I somehow doubt it would make it to the publishers."
"What do you mean? Wait, you don't think the wizards would actually try and stop it?"
"Why not? They've been erasing the memories of everyone who's come into contact with them so far?"
"But that's censorship!" Connie looked outraged. "This is a democratic country. They have no right to decide what we're allowed to do or say! Especially when they're not even participating in our society."
Anthony couldn't help but laugh at her outburst.
"You know, I'd love to introduce you to Fudge." Suddenly he blinked twice and his eyes widened. "Hang on, you actually believe me?!"
She shrugged. "I told you, I know you very well. You don't have the imagination to come up with something this crazy."
"Oh."
She was silent for a while.
"You're right though, no one would believe this. But to knowingly publish something that isn't true goes against everything journalism stands for." She paused. "On the other hand, I imagine I couldn't get anyone to corroborate the wizard story."
"You'd likely just get your memory erased by one of their magical policemen."
"It's like Men in Black only without the aliens."
"Something like that."
There was more silence. Then Connie slowly stood up. Anthony also rose to his feet. She held her hand out to him and with a warm smile. He shook the offered hand and smiled back.
"Well, it really was good to see you," she said. "But I've got a story to work on. You've given me a lot to think about and I'm not sure exactly how I'll decide yet, but you'll be the first to know when I do."
"Thank you. And you're right, I'm glad we met again. Even if it was for business."
And with that they each went their separate ways.
A loud, frustrated yell echoed through the Watcher's Council library. A chair clattered to the ground. Giles sighed and began to clean his glasses.
"That's it, I give up!" Xander exclaimed, glaring murderously at the computer. He turned, fully intending to childishly stomp away from the stupid machine, when he nearly tripped over the same chair he'd just knocked over. He glared at the chair.
Giles put his glasses back on.
"I take it your search wasn't very successful?" he asked calmly. Xander sat down at the cluttered library table and pouted.
"No," he answered and grabbed a sandwich from the platter one of the younger slayers had brought in earlier. "I mean, it's not even that there's no useful information to be had. It's like the damn town doesn't even exist! And this Diagon Alley? Ditto."
"That is odd - oh Lori, have you found it?"
Xander took a bite out of his sandwich and then leaned his head backwards to look at where Lori had just walked out from behind a bookcase with a large tome in her hands. He immediately perked up, recognizing the book as one of the Watcher's Diaries. It had come as quite the pleasant surprise when they had realized the Watcher's Council had made about a dozen copies of each diary over the years and therefore they hadn't all been destroyed along with Sunnydale and the old council's building.
"Yeah, I think I found the reference I'd been thinking of," said Lori after a slight hesitation. "Unfortunately, no luck. It was for something different."
"Oh, how so?"
"Well, in 1634, a young watcher named Alphonse Merivale Wyndam-Pryce claimed to have come across a forest dense with supernatural presence and a castle -"
"Wyndam-Pryce?" Xander interrupted. "As in Wesley's great, great, great grandfather or something?"
"Well, the Wyndam-Pryce family has been an integral part of the Watcher's Council for a very long time. I believe it may even have been one of the founding members of the British headquarters."
"Wow, that's pretty cool, yo," said Faith from where she was sitting at the far end of the table. She was browsing through a book of historical maps, with her legs up on the table and balancing on the back two legs of her chair. "No wonder Wes was so gun-ho about the council."
"Aaanyway, as I was saying -" Lori looked up from the book to glare at them and all of them- including Giles- had the decency to look a bit sheepish. "It seems he was missing for about three days and was eventually found wandering through a field in a daze with almost no memories of those three days. All he remembered was the forest and castle- wait, there was a lake too and a creature that lived in the lake..." She was silent for a moment as she read the passage again. Eventually she shook her head. "Nevermind, apparently he never quite managed to recollect his memories completely or find the place again."
"So there was no town?" Xander asked.
"No, but the castle's name was supposedly Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Giles thought about that for a while before shaking his head. "No, that doesn't sound familiar."
"Doesn't to me either and it seems his peers didn't believe it existed at all."
"But, yo, we already know that these wizards can mess with memories, so it totally could've been them," Faith piped up.
"Yeah, I mean someone disappears for three days and then poofs back with no memories except for a weird magical castle... " Xander agreed. "In Sunnydale they'd probably send him to the nearest shrink, but this is the Watcher's Council, the experts on all things wiggy."
"Yes, and they did investigate the matter - to an extent. But the thing is that when he was found, he was holding several flowers whose pollen and scent have hallucinogenic properties."
"Oh."
"Damn."
"But they could've been given to him by the wizards to make the Watcher's Council doubt him," Giles commented.
"True. However, it also could've been someone else entirely -"
The door to the library slammed open and Buffy stepped through. She crossed her arms in front of her and glared at the group, anger flowing from her in steady waves. Xander and the others blinked and exchanged confused looks.
"You knew," Buffy said in a hard, accusing voice. "You all knew and didn't tell me."
More confused looks. Faith frowned and swung her legs off the table, as she put her book down.
"Yo, B, don't suppose you wanna give us a hint of what it is we know here, 'cause I'm drawing a blank here."
Buffy turned to her. "You and Xander were in L.A. helping Angel with the demon army. That means you saw them. I can kinda understand Andrew's not wanting to tell me, 'cause he asked him to keep quiet and God knows Andrew practically worships the guy - but you two? Why the hell didn't you tell me he was alive?"
"Oh," Xander said, suddenly understanding the situation. "You mean Spike."
"Yes, Spike!" She paused and took a deep breath. "I realize none of you liked him, but he was an important member of the team and-"
"Woah, hold it B." Faith stood up. "Why don't you chill a bit. We didn't exactly hate him, yo. Well, I had nothing against him, in any case; got along just fine, in fact. Other than that whole throwing you out incident, I mean. We only just found out he was still alive."
"And you didn't tell me!" Buffy walked up to them and slammed her hands on the table, making it shake.
"Buff, it's not like we were keeping it a secret -" Xander piped in.
"Then what were you doing?!"
"Searching for Dawn, in case you've forgotten!"
They all looked to Giles, a bit surprised at his abrupt tone. He was looking at Buffy with eyes that could pierce through titanium. Buffy's eyes widened momentarily at his words and her anger seemed to calm a bit.
"He's right, Buff," Xander tried again. "We didn't not tell you 'cause we didn't want you to know - it just never came up. Ever since you got here, we've all been trying our hardest to find Dawn. Spike's in New York or whatever and has nothing to do with this."
The library was silent for a few moments. Finally, Buffy sighed.
"He does now," she said softly.
"Huh?"
Buffy turned away from Giles and looked to everyone.
"I just talked to Andrew. Apparently, Spike's on his way to London - or maybe he's here already. I don't know."
"Why? I thought he didn't want you to know he was back," Giles asked.
"Andrew says Spike called him about a week ago, asking about wizards." She paused and held up a hand to stop anyone from commenting. "And not just any wizards, but a dark lord and his merry band of minions, who are apparently causing trouble all over."
"Did he know the wizard's name?"
"Yeah, but Andrew couldn't remember, except that he thinks it starts with a 'V'. Oh, and his minions call themselves 'Death Eaters' and wear black robes with white masks."
"Death Eaters? You're kidding me, yo? If that's what he calls his minions, can't wait to find out what he calls himself!"
"Yeah, they sound like a bunch of bad comic book villains."
"In any case, it sounds like this Spike has quite a bit more information than we do," Lori spoke up, finally feeling the situation had calmed down enough for her to comment.
Buffy nodded. "Yeah."
"So, what do we do then?"
Giles thought for a moment. "Lori, this castle you mentioned, where did Alphonse say he found it?"
"Um, if it exists it would be somewhere in Scotland."
"Huh? Castle?" Buffy asked, confused at the change of topic.
"A magical castle one of Wes's great, great, great relatives found that might've just be a figment of his imagination," Xander answered.
"Is it important?"
"We don't know," Giles said and turned to Xander. "Xander -"
"See if I can dig up Hogwarts on the net? I'm already googlin'!" With that the brunette got up - swiped another sandwich - and headed back to the computer. Giles turned back to Buffy.
"Any thoughts on what to do about Spike?"
Buffy thought for a moment.
"Well, he's got info we need and he's looking for us. If we tell the girls going out on patrol tonight to keep an eye out for him, we might find him faster. Sending someone all the way out to Scotland chasing an invisible, magicky goose that might not exist could be too risky. So, how 'bout we concentrate on finding this Dragon Alley and give Spike a day or so to get here?"
Giles looked to the others.
"I'll second that plan, yo," said Faith with a shrug.
"Sounds reasonable enough to me," Lori agreed. "Provided he gets here within the next day or so."
"Very well, then it's agreed. Wait to see what news Spike brings us before looking past London."
It was a calm night. Only a slight breeze blew - just enough to make the otherwise warm night seem somewhat chilly. A waning moon shone just above the trees of the Forbidden Forest, although the dim light probably never actually reached past the dense branches of the tallest trees. But Ron wasn't paying any attention to the shadows in the forest. In fact, from where he sat on the steps of Hogwarts, he probably could only barely see them at best.
Instead, his head rested in his hands as he stared up at the brightly shining stars, which seemed to invite him to share the night, rather than scare him away.
He'd been the first to wake up earlier in the afternoon. Madame Pomfrey had told him- with an incredibly displeased look on her face - that if not for the house elves, there could've been permanent damage, possibly even death. Harry and Hermione were still unconscious. It was nearing midnight and Ron still felt a little shaky, but he wasn't tired.
Although, he really should have been after his mother and the twins ambushed him shortly after he'd woken up. Predictably, his mother was furious that they'd put themselves in such danger and Ron had had to make up a story about a new spell they'd been trying out, because they thought it might help them in the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Madame Pomfrey clearly hadn't been fooled, but for some reason, she'd remained silent.
Luckily, there was an Order meeting tonight and so everyone left after dinner. However, not before promising there'd be someone from the Order coming back to check up on them the next day.
Ron sighed. It was going to become more difficult to anything without anyone knowing about it now.
"I doubt Madame Pomfrey would be pleased to see you out here, Mr. Weasley," a voice said behind him. Ron jumped. He looked behind him and nodded to the centaur that stood there.
"I just wanted some fresh air," he rasped and shrugged. "S' not like the wind's going to make me any worse."
Thanks to Madame Pomfrey's expert healing skills he could now talk without feeling like every word was made of molten lava, but his voice was still only a whisper.
"No, but you probably should be resting."
"I was resting for over half a day."
The centaur said nothing. He just looked up to the heavens. For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
"The stars are bright tonight," Firenze finally broke the silence.
"Yeah," said Ron. "There's so many of them too. Makes me wonder if they really do know everything - about the future I mean. It would really be nice to know that one day, all this pain, everything we're doing, will be worth it. That we're going to win in the end."
"The stars do not mean to encourage, nor to dissuade. They never give a definite answer."
"What are they saying tonight?"
Firenze paused for moment to study the boy. Then he looked back to sky and concentrated on the stars. It was almost half an hour later that he finally spoke again.
"The stars tell a troubling tale, young Weasley," he began, startling Ron out of his almost-asleep daze. "They speak of great disaster, and the awakening of ancient powers. I see the approach of a destroyer and there are others with him, but I cannot see who they are. Difficult times lay ahead - the stars tell me of danger we know not of, yet will have to face before the battle's done."
He looked back to Ron, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.
"A destroyer? You mean You-Know-Who? Or are you saying there's someone new joining him?"
"That I cannot tell. The stars only give answers that make sense to them."
Ron snorted. There were a few moments of silence interrupted by the sounds of rustling grass.
"Harry met someone in Hogsmeade a couple of weeks ago," Ron suddenly said. Firenze looked down at him in surprise, but Ron was still looking off into the distance. "She sounds like a complete nuttier - loonier than Trelwany even. But, she called herself a prophet and told Harry that the stars are fickle, that they hide the truth behind clouds."
Now Ron looked back to Firenze.
"Is that right? Do the stars really only tell 'alf the story?"
The centaur pondered for a moment, wondering who in the world this 'prophet' could be. Finally, he answered.
"I have never had reason to doubt what the stars say. But, I suppose, you could say they only tell us what they want to, or perhaps, what they are permitted to. After all, human beings are creatures not meant to see too far into the future."
"So, she really might not be human!" Firenze blinked in confusion, but didn't interrupt Ron's rant. "Hermione was right! And if she's not human then maybe the prophecies really are true!"
"Prophecies?"
Ron suddenly jumped up and ran back into the castle. He paused and turned around just before he completely disappeared through the doors.
"Goodnight Firenze!" he said with a smile. "And thanks!"
"You're welcome, Mr. Weasley."
The boy never heard the response, since the doors had already closed behind him. Firenze shook his head in amusement. These human children had so much unnecessary energy.
Then the centaur turned his eyes back to the midnight skies and wondered about the boy's words. His eyes widened slightly as he did, in fact, notice several clouds obscuring the night sky.
It was cold. So cold. It felt as if her entire body was frozen within a block of ice - a coldness that permeated her body and left nothing untouched. It was painful, yet her limbs were so cold they were numb. An eternity seemed to pass and all she could feel was the ice coffin surrounding her and all she could see was darkness. Complete, undisturbed darkness.
And then, suddenly, like the Star of Bethlehem, a glimmer of light appeared. And from that light warmth began to spread. Slowly, it melted the black ice around her and wrapped her in a soft blanket of light.
Hermione opened her eyes. She smiled at the familiar room, always so full of warmth and light. A wonderful aroma entered her nostrils. Scones; probably blueberry. She turned around in her chair and leaned back against the wooden table she was sitting at. The old woman at the kitchen counter was pouring hot water into the tea pot. She placed the kettle down and grabbed a pair of pink plaid oven mitts.
"Are they done yet, grandma?" Hermione asked her.
The old woman smiled at her. "Yes, they're done," she said as she opened the oven door and took out a cookie sheet full of scones. "Why don't you set the table."
"Sure thing, grandma."
Hermione hopped off the chair and went to work. She took two silver spoons out from the mahogany cabinet in the corner of the room - because her grandmother always used the good silver for tea. Then she picked two flowered bone chine tea cups from the collection and then took the butter dish and milk from the fridge. Lastly, she got the prepared tea pot from the counter and placed it onto the table beside the crystal vase filled with flowers. Strangely enough, it didn't seem as heavy as usual.
She sat back down and waited. Hermione sighed in contentment. She loved tea time at her grandma's place. The month she spent here every summer since she could remember were some of her best memories. The house was small and cozy, yet always full of sunlight and flowers. And books. There wasn't a single room in the house that didn't have books of some sort in it. There were shelves of cookbooks in the kitchen, rows of large, hardcover ornate classics in the living room and at least one full bookshelf of paperbacks in each bedroom. She even had a few trivia books in the bathroom.
Hermione's love of books came naturally, seeping into her from the wooden panelling of this house.
Her grandmother set a plate of scones onto the table and sat down. Then, with an air of dignity she always acquired at tea time, she picked up the kettle and poured them both tea.
"Tell me, Hermione, how've you been doing lately?" her grandmother asked, once the tea had been poured. Hermione poured some milk into her tea.
"I've been well, grandma. I've managed to keep my grades up and am the best in my class. But don't worry, I'm not studying too hard; Harry and Ron won't let me. Those two are impossible sometimes."
"Harry and Ron? Are they good friends?"
"The best. I'd risk my life for them in a second and I know they'd do the same for me."
Hermione took a sip of her tea.
"That's good to hear. Books make wonderful companions, but they can't replace real friends."
"I know."
"It's good to know you're enjoying your new school. I was worried about sending you so far from home and into the unknown."
"I love Hogwarts! There are so many things to learn there - things I could never learn anywhere else. I mean, it's not perfect and there are quite a few unpleasant people there, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I really want to be a good and proper witch more than anything else."
"Life always brings with it unpleasant things. But you've become strong; strong enough to fight those unpleasant things. I'm proud of you."
Hermione picked up a scone and spread some butter on it. There was a big smile on her face and she didn't think she'd ever felt this happy before.
"Thank you, grandma. It means a lot of me, it really does."
"However..."
Hermione looked up as she took a bite out of her scone, closing her eyes for a moment as she savoured the delicious taste. No one made better scones than her grandma.
"I think, perhaps, that you need to open your mind just a little bit further or else you'll never see the truth."
Hermione frowned. "I-I don't understand. I've always tried to consider everything, even if it didn't seem likely."
"Hermione dear, I know you have. Which is why you can't see the obvious truth that's in front of you."
"The obvious truth...?"
Hermione thought about this as she finished her scone. She took another sip of her tea. Then it hit her. Her eyes widened as she stared at her hand - the one that was holding her teacup. The teacup that suddenly seemed much smaller than she remembered it. Slowly, she put the cup down and brought both her hands up for her to see. Then she looked down at herself. She was wearing her Hogwarts school robes. She looked back to her grandmother, fear and confusion warring in her eyes.
"Grandma - how, why... this is impossible. It can't be. You-you're-"
Hermione couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Tears sprung to her eyes, but didn't fall. Her grandmother had died three months before she'd gotten her Hogwarts letter. This cottage now belonged to a young couple and their Scottish terrier.
Suddenly, there was a pair of arms wrapped around her and Hermione smelled lilac. She returned the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent.
"I know, dear, and I'm sorry I had to leave. I would've loved to have been with you for a little while longer." The older woman pulled back from the embrace and ran a gentle hand through Hermione's hair. "But, you've done so well on your own. I really am proud of you."
She kissed her forehead and then stood up and smiled. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes.
"But you're still so young. Too young. So, I'm here to help. I have something for you."
With that, she simply walked away from the table and through the door that led to the living room. Hermione followed, walking through the familiar doorway only to suddenly find herself amidst a now even more familiar scene. She stopped short as the dark shelves of the Hogwarts library's Restricted Section spread before her.
That was all it took for Hermione to suddenly see a parade of images dancing before her in her mind: Ron screaming, the Cup of Hufflepuff, the elaborate preparations for the spell, bright light and a sense of danger...
"This is a dream," Hermione said, even as she realized it herself.
"Yes, it is." She looked up at the voice and saw her grandmother standing several bookcases away. "Now come along, there are people worried about you. You shouldn't keep them waiting for too long."
Hermione followed her grandmother to a part of the Restricted Section she didn't usually go to. It was a small section, yet, when they stopped, she recognized it right away: divinations. There her grandmother reached up to the second highest shelf towards a large burgundy-coloured tome with thick gold ornamental print. However, it wasn't the tome which she picked, but the smaller, brown book beside it.
"Here, I believe this is what you're looking for," she said as she handed Hermione the book.
Hermione stared at the book in confusion. It had several arithmancy symbols she vaguely recognized as something she'd read about, but hadn't actually studied. There were also several other symbols she didn't recognize at all. The title was written in thin gold letter: 'Prophecies of the Ancients'.
"Remember Hermione, sometimes finding the truth requires a leap of faith." Her grandmother smiled encouragingly. "And don't be afraid to make friends. After all, sometimes help can come from the most unlikely of places."
Hermione opened the book...
Hermione finally stirred at exactly 2:38 in the afternoon. Ron was out of his own bed and at her side only seconds after he heard her moan. Two minutes later, he was being sent away by Madame Pomfrey with a stern look. It then took the Hogwarts nurse an hour before she was satisfied enough with her patient's progress to leave her to rest on her own.
No sooner had the door to her office once again closed, Ron was sitting in the chair beside Hermione's bed.
"How're you feeling?" he asked.
"I've certainly felt better," Hermione answered with a tired smile. "How's Harry?"
"Still unconscious, but Pomfrey says he should be okay." He paused for a moment. "We did it, though. Nearly bloody died, but we did it."
"Oh, the runes-"
"I checked last night and they're gone."
Hermione closed her eyes and smiled in relief. "Good. I'd hate to have to try again."
"Yeah."
Just then something banged against the door to Pomfrey's office. Ron's head shot up. After a minute of watching the door not open, he relaxed and turned back to his friend.
"Listen, 'Mione, do you get the impression Pomfrey knows more than she's telling?" he suddenly asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know really, but well, when I woke up yesterday me mum was 'ere and I told her we were practicing a new spell and it went crazy.."
"Madame Pomfrey should've been able to tell that was a lie."
"Yeah, I know, but it was the best I could think of at the time. And she never said a word."
"That's odd...unless..." Hermione paused and Ron waited for her to get her thoughts together. "Someone must've looked after Dumbledore when he hurt his hand destroying the Horcurx on the ring, so maybe she already knows."
"Maybe. I could swear that while she was poking me after I'd woken up, she was mumbling something about wanting to 'give that blasted senile old man a piece of her mind'."
"Then she definitely knows."
They sat in companionable silence for a while.
"Ron," Hermione said after a while, "later, when I'm feeling a bit stronger, will you help me down to the library."
"The library? Sure. Why do you want to go there?"
Hermione looked at Ron with a smile, a contemplative look in her eyes. "I'm going to take a leap of faith so that I can figure out how to see the truth."
Ron eyed the empty potions bottles on the side table and decided not to question his friend any further.
Buffy plopped down into the bright blue loveseat in the living room. She was exhausted.
Although, she was trying her best to quip about it, the situation with Dawn had her anxious like nothing ever had before.
This was worse than being up against Glory, or even the First - there the opponent had been incredibly powerful, but at least she'd known who she was up against. There were no Bringers, no threats, nothing to prove the enemy actually existed except some vague rumours. Could it be this enemy wasn't after the Slayer at all? Could this enemy know what Dawn was...
She didn't even want to think about that possibility. She knew very well Giles had been discreetly researching the Key along with everything else, but had mentioned it to no one. They knew next to nothing about the Key and the thought that perhaps her powers weren't quite as gone as they'd thought had occurred to all of them. That there existed someone out there who knew more about this than they did was a horrifying thought.
But, honestly, even worse was the thought Lori had voiced: that the attack was random and had nothing to do with Dawn at all. That, this time, she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone who didn't know Dawn's worth could consider her sister easily replaceable...
Buffy shook her head, dispelling all these depressing thoughts. She had to keep reminding herself that her little sister wasn't exactly helpless. She might not have the strength or speed of a slayer, but she was smart and had been in such situations before.
Buffy swung her hands above her head and stretched, listening with satisfaction as her back popped in several places. She looked at the clock. It was just after midnight.
She eyed the sword resting against the doorframe contemplatively. It was still early by slayer standards, but then again, lately her schedule had been decidedly off. Wizards weren't exactly creatures of the night, after all. Maybe she should call it an early night - take advantage of the numerous other slayers out on patrol right now - and get some sleep.
A nice, warm bath sounded like a really good idea.
Her mind made up, Buffy willed her limbs to propel her off the loveseat. She made sure to grab the sword on her way out of the room. It had been a gift from the Immortal and she rather liked it. The blue gem stones that decorated the top of the sheath matched a pair of boots she owned.
She was half-way up the stairs when the doorbell rang.
Buffy stopped and turned to stare at the door. She frowned. She could see two silhouettes outlined through the stained glass in the front door. Neither looked like a slayer she recognized. Slowly, she descended down the stairs, taking her sword out of its sheath and then laying it down at the bottom of the staircase. The darker of the two figures moved and the doorbell rang again. And again.
Apparently said person wasn't very patient.
"Buffy, are you getting the door?" Lori called from where she had stuck her head out of the library. "It's probably just one of the trainees who's forgotten her key."
"Lori, stay back," Buffy said in an even voice, just loud enough for Lori to hear her. "It's definitely NOT a slayer."
Buffy didn't glance back at Lori and so didn't see the watcher's eyes widen, but she did hear her slip back into the library and rummage through the closet next to the door for a weapon. The closer she got to the door, the stronger the demonic presence became. She took the sword into her left hand and hid it behind her back before undoing the latch on the door. She swung the door open, pretending to be casual.
"Hey buster, do you have any idea what time -"
Her words got stuck in her throat and she froze. Vaguely, she noticed that one of the people was a short brunette- her slayer instincts flared and told her the girl wasn't nearly as harmless as she looked- but it was the other person, who had her full attention.
"S-Spike..." Buffy whispered as she stared at him.
"'lo Buffy," the familiar blond vampire said with a warm smile.
Buffy's sword dropped to the floor with a loud clang. Tentatively, the slayer reached out with her right, letting her hand hover for a few seconds, before gently caressing his cheek. Spike held patiently, all too happy to let the woman he loved reassure herself he was real. The hand left his cheek and he sighed.
The next thing Spike knew, he was flying through the air and landing on hard cement pavement. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare up at the stars in utter confusion. He brought his hand up to his cheek, realizing suddenly that it stung.
"Well, now I can't say I'll ever get tired of seeing that," a familiar voice laughed from further down the street.
Spike sat up and growled at Xander. Then he stood up and glared at the approaching blonde, who was emitting clouds of anger in her wake.
"Oi, what's the big i-"
"Why didn't you tell me you were still alive?!" Buffy yelled at him.
Spike froze, at a loss for words. All of his reasons, all his excuses, suddenly seemed very stupid and insignificant in the face of the angry woman. Xander, meanwhile, came to a stop a few steps behind him. He was with three girls, all of them carrying weapons.
"Buffy, I -" he finally said, pleading with his eyes that she understand. "I thought you should move on with your life -"
"You idiot!"
Spike flinched, preparing for the blow he was sure was coming. His eyes widened as, instead, he was suddenly being tightly embraced by a pair of arms that could probably break his back quite easily. As suddenly as it had appeared, the angry aura was gone and Spike smelt salty tears. He blinked once in confusion, before gently putting his arms around the girl.
"I'm sorry, luv. I just figured with the major big bad gone and the hellmouth closed permanently, you'd finally have a chance at a normal life." He paused. "And well, I don't really do normal very well."
Buffy chuckled softly before breaking their embrace. Spike let her go reluctantly and looked down at her. Her eyes were shining with moisture, but she wasn't actually crying.
"Yeah, well, apparently neither do I."
Spike frowned and a growl began to form at the back of his throat. "Yeah, I 'eard 'bout you and the Immortal. Bloody bastard - you should be careful around 'im. He's dangerous and not one to care 'bout who 'e hurts."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't you start. I've gotten that speech from Giles, Xander and Dawn - well, Dawn actually thought it was kinda cool, but she still did the whole 'be careful' speech thing." She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Wait, how did you know about the Immortal - oh, right. Andrew must've blabbed."
Spike remained silent, choosing to stare at the stars instead. He really hoped she decided not to verify that with Andrew, because he and Angel probably wouldn't survive her finding out the truth.
Just then, someone cleared their throat.
"If you two are done with the reunion-y bit, um, we've kinda got bigger things to worry about than Buffy's messed up love life."
Spike turned to Xander with a frown. Buffy shot him a dirty look.
"Huh?" said Spike. "What bigger things - wait, you already know about the dark lord bloke?"
"Sort of." Spike looked to Buffy. She looked serious now. "Dawn's been kidnapped and we think it was him, or his minions or whatever. But -"
"Voldemort has Dawn?!" Spike exclaimed.
"Huh? Who's - oh, that's his name?"
"Uh, yeah, although the wizards 'ere don't actually call 'im that. Too afraid to say 'is name, bloody pansies. They call 'im You-Know-Who."
"Seriously?" Xander asked. "Is he that strong?"
Spike shrugged. "Blue and I ran into some of 'is minions and I can't say I was too impressed. Bloody morons didn't even realize who I was."
Buffy frowned. "Blue? Who's Blue?"
"That would be me," a deep voice said from behind her. Buffy turned, realizing she'd completely forgotten the girl that had arrived with Spike.
"Woah, super demon at ten o'clock," Xander joked.
Illyria ignored him and walked up to Buffy. She still looked like Fred, but the hard look in her eyes and confident stride were all hers. She stopped just in front of Buffy and stared at her, as if sizing her up.
"You are the Slayer?" she finally asked.
"Yes, I am. Who are -"
"I can feel your power, the demon flowing through your blood -"
Buffy tensed, subtly shifting her body into a stance she could attack from if needed- she really wished she had kept her sword.
"You are strong, like the dark one, called Faith. A being created to destroy the power of my kin; I recognize you as a warrior." Suddenly, the girl's appearance began to shift as Illyria shed Fred's guise and became a demon.
Buffy gasped. It wasn't that she hadn't known the slender girl was a demon, but the strength of the demonic aura she was suddenly emitting surprised her.
"I am Illyria."
"Um, uh, hi, nice to meet you. I'm Buffy."
Illyria nodded. Then she turned around and headed for the house, where Lori stood in the doorway, holding a quarterstaff and staring at the scene with wide eyes.
"Well, we should probably follow 'er," said Spike, not at all fazed by her abrupt switch.
"Yeah," Buffy agreed and also began to walk back to the house. Everyone else followed.
When she reached the entrance to the New Watcher's Council, she stopped and turned around with a smile.
"Welcome to the Watcher's Council, Spike. I invite you in."
Spike smirked. "Thank's, luv."
Author's Notes:
Hermione's grandmother - we know so little about Hermione's family, except that her parents are dentists and she's an only child, so for the purpose of this dream I created her a grandmother. And no, Hermione is not going to suddenly become a dreamseer or anything.
Anyone who was looking forward to more Dawn/Draco, sorry. There was supposed to be a scene in here with them, but I had to cut it. The chapter was just too long as it was. However, they'll definitely be in the next one. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!