Chapter Fourteen: The Awkward Trio
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Both Buffy and Angel remained in the doorway for a moment. Neither said much. The people inside the house didn't really know what to say either. And, perhaps they might have been trapped in this never ending ocean of silence for the rest of their lives, if not the presence of a slightly high-pitched voice speaking from behind Angel.
"You folks order a pizza," the voice asked. Snapping back to the present, Angel moved out of the way and Buffy spotted an acne faced boy with a red jacket holding two pizza boxes.
"Uh yeah," she said. Giles stood up as well and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket.
"How much is that?" asked the Watcher. The delivery boy responded and Giles counted out the money. Angel slipped past them in the exchange, but didn't move into the room. Rather he stood hesitantly before Buffy.
Buffy wasn't certain how to greet the vampire. It seemed natural to give him a hug in greeting, but that also seemed terribly inappropriate under the circumstances. Deciding to do nothing she stood limply waiting for Giles to shut the door.
With the door closed, everyone followed Giles and the pizza. They gathered around the boxes, each reaching in and taking a piece.
"You missed magic defense training, Harry taught," Buffy said directing the conversation toward Angel. Angel's gaze left Buffy for a moment and he seemed to watch Harry. The green eyed wizard showed no signs of discomfort, he returned Angels gaze with no expression.
"I'd be happy to discuss any of it with you," spoke Harry, interrupting the starring contest. Angel shrugged and looked away.
"I'm sure I can handle it," assured the vampire. Harry nodded and didn't push the issue. Buffy fumbled around for another conversation topic. She bit into her pizza and chewed.
"Yeah..ugh you sure know your stuff Harry, you train people before?" she questioned.
"Yeah...well sort of." Harry shrugged. Once again the topic was dropped. Buffy's mind tried to find something else. Angel was once again staring at Harry, almost as if he were trying to read something on his face. Buffy glanced at her other friends. Willow seemed as aware of the tension as she was, while Oz looked like he didn't have a care in the world and merely bit into his pizza and chewed. At least someone was enjoying the food. Xander looked to be in a good mood. His eyes kept looking between Harry and Angel, a smile on his face.
"I know," Xander said with a rather evil looking smile, "Why don't we have Angel and Harry fight, just to make sure Angel can handle a magical fight."
"No!"
"No!"
"No!" Three voices shouted as one. Both Harry and Angel raised an eyebrow at the three who had yelled. Willow had gone dangerously pale, Giles was shaking his head, and Buffy was giving Xander a stern look.
"There will be no fighting," directed Buffy. Xander made a move to object but Willow hastily clamped a hand across his mouth.
"Mpf..." Xander mumbled in complaint.
"I think I better patrol," Buffy said with a shake of her head.
"I'll go with you,"
"I'll go with you" said both Harry and Angel at the same time. Angel shot the wizard a hard look, but Harry looked rather innocent. Buffy paused for a minute. Thinking of no other option she nodded her head.
"Okay, let's do some scouting. Maybe we can track down where this Macnair is at," suggested Buffy.
"Good idea, I might be able to sense him if we get close enough," Harry said with a nod. Angel looked away from Buffy and Harry, a slight movement of his head the only sign of agreement.
"Hey folks, I don't mean to sound paranoid...but what if those guys come here? We don't exactly have super powers or magic," stated Xander. Harry looked pensive.
"I do know a spell that should protect you, its called the Fidelius Charm. It hides a location of a place inside a person. That way a place can only be found if the secret keeper confides the location to someone..." Harry looked up at the blank looks he was getting.
"Did anyone else hear that and just go, eh?" questioned Xander. Buffy, Willow and Oz raised their hands. Giles looked thoughtful.
"I guess the best way to explain it is...well, this spell makes a place invisible and intangible to anyone who isn't told it is there...does that make more sense?" asked Harry. The others nodded slightly.
"Is it difficult to cast?" Giles questioned.
"Eh...well no, not particularly, no." Harry shrugged his shoulders. They didn't need to know that most wizards wouldn't even dream of attempting the Fidelius Charm.
"Ooh, lets do it. I'd like to see you do big Magic!" squealed Willow excitedly.
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That was how Harry found himself out in the front lawn, skimming through a spell book. He had cast the Fidelius Charm once before, although it was merely for learning's sake. Harry hadn't understood why Dumbledore had wanted him to learn the spell at the time, after all it was advanced defensive magic not offensive, it wouldn't help him in his war against Voldemort. The old wizard had mentioned something about it being useful. Harry was glad he knew it now. He didn't want to run the chance of Macnair finding any of his new friends.
The others stood behind Harry, Willow glowed with excitement. Buffy looked as if she'd rather be out on patrol, but she did want her friends safe. Harry raised his wand. He let his eyes slip into magic sight, staring into the stillness for a moment. Then Harry raised his wand into the air, waving the tip in a circular motion. He then began to chant.
"Is Locus In Meus Pectus Pectoris Quod Gurd Is Ibi," Harry called into the night. Harry ignored Xander's giggles and a smack, which he assumed came from Willow and not Buffy, as Xander wasn't crippled with pain. Turning back to his work, Harry repeated the phrase three times. With each repetition a wisp of magic flew from his wand towards the house. As the magic grew farther away, it fractured into millions of magical strings. The golden magic encircled the house then paused, waiting for the final step.
"Fidelius," Harry stated tapping his chest with his wand. In a flash of color, the infinite number of lines surrounding the house rushed into Harry. He gasped as the magic entered his body. He might have fallen but the power kept him erect, he rose on his tiptoes, chest thrust out. He clutched his straining chest waiting for the rush to subside. Eventually it did, Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his muscles slowly. Ouch.
Harry turned around and saw six rather amazed looking people.
"My house..." uttered Giles. He seemed to be in shock. Harry could only guess as to what his Uncle was seeing, to him everything looked the same. Buffy took a step forward. When she reached a place where she assumed the house had been, she stuck out a hand curiously. Harry watched in amusement as his Uncle's place seemed to flow away from her fingers.
"It's not there," Buffy called over her shoulder. The others approached and reached out tentatively as well. The house seemed like smoke to them, they just slipped right through it.
"Harry...my house?" Giles asked again. He paused and frowned, "I don't remember where I live," he stated in confusion. Harry smiled and leaned in toward his Uncle.
"Uncle Rupert I believe you live at 323 Roulo drive," Harry whispered. The confusion faded from his Uncle's face and Giles smiled in relief to find his house in existence again. Harry repeated the process with the other scoobies, choosing to whisper the words on the odd chance that one of their enemies might otherwise overhear. Willow was, of course, a bundle of questions but Harry managed to appease her with a promise of explanation after patrol.
Thus, Xander, Willow, Oz and Giles all returned to the now secure inside, plans were also made for Giles to contact Mrs. Summers and have her go to Giles's house while Harry Buffy and Angel went on patrol. Harry left the location of the house on a piece of parchement for the scoobies to show Mrs. Sum-Joyce.
It was then that three people finally left, Buffy toting the golden shield Harry had given her earlier. The three were slowly walking into the city when Buffy spoke up.
"Harry, you know this guy right?" questioned Buffy pensively. Harry nodded curtly. He wasn't best mates with Macnair but...he supposed he did have some insight on how the man thought.
"Well, what kind of place would he likely hang out in? Ritzy mansion, cave, the Mall?" asked Buffy, a hopeful tone was attached to last location. Harry laughed softly but shook his head. Buffy groaned.
"Once, just once I'd like to have a baddie whose favorite place is the mall."
'You did blast to bits that one demon in a Mall," reminded Angel.
"Oh, right...maybe it will become a trend." This joke elicited a small smile from Angel while Harry laughed in his quiet way. Straightening his face, Harry continued answering her question.
"Well, Dark wizards are notoriously pompous, living in big manor houses...but Macnair isn't like most of them. He's more...creepy," finished Harry with a slight frown.
"Creepy?" inquired Buffy with a raised eyebrow. She smiled wickedly. "The best word you can come up with is creepy?"
"Hey you met him, he's...creepy," argued Harry. Angel tensed protectively at Harry's casual mention of Buffy's previous meeting with the wizard. The vampire wouldn't forget her screams anytime soon. He also didn't think Harry should bring it up.
"You got a point, definitely creepy. Does he always smile like that?" she wondered aloud.
"Ugh, he did the smile thing? That's almost worse than the curse," complained Harry companionably. Buffy shook her head in amusement at the young wizard. Angel found himself watching Buffy with a slight bit of amazement. She had a tendency to shut down about anything that bothered her. He'd always seen her do it before. Whenever she'd been victimized, she'd block it out and pretend it never happened. How had Harry managed to easily get under that hard skin with only a few joking complaints? He found himself watching the young wizard more closely as they walked.
Again the feeling from earlier returned to him. His vampire senses were screaming that something wasn't right about this magic. He breathed the air trying to get a taste of it. Now, vampires couldn't see magic, but they could feel it, taste it. It wafted around him like a perfume as he walked in step with the young wizard. It was an odd blend. There was lightness and good, but then on another side there was a bitter taste, an evil so dark that made the demon inside Angel squirm. It was an evil born of practice, of habit, a darkness that reeked.
"Dark Wizard?" Buffy interrupted Angel's thoughts with a hazy voice. Her forehead was scrunched as she tried to remember something. "That's what you said wizards call Good and Evil right, Dark and Light."
"Yeah," Harry nodded. His eyes on Buffy, almost as if he could see the wheels in her head turning.
"That one vampire, the good one, the one I fought the first night you patrolled with me..." Buffy trailed off.
"Yeah, the one whose jaw you broke?" questioned Harry.
"Yeah...he...or was it the idiot he was with? Well, they said something about getting the 'light' out of this city. Now I've fought lots of vampires and never heard them use that word before."
"You think he was connected with Macnair," it was more of a statement than a question. Harry nodded his head following along with her thoughts.
"It tracks. It explains why all the vampires and demons are working together in teams. The increased activity." Buffy bit her lip in thought.
"And someone was contacting vampires in L.A.," added Angel
"Yeah...how is it a human can boss around vampires?" questioned Buffy.
"I don't know how he got them to agree, but I know some powerful gangs have drifted to his side. If he got the higher up vampires, the lesser groups would follow," explained Angel. Harry nodded.
"Magic?" Buffy asked turning to Harry.
"I thought that. I don't think the Imperius curse works on vampires though," Harry said thinking aloud.
"The huh?" questioned Buffy. Angel too leaned in for an explanation.
"Imperius curse, another unforgivable, it takes away a person's free will. But it doesn't work on everyone, if you have enough inner strength of will then you can fight it. If I understand vampires correctly," here Harry nodded to Angel, "A demon takes control of a body, turning that person into a vampire. As far as strength of will goes, I'm betting a demon's got enough to fight it. Although, if Macnair asked to do something destructive...something the inner demon would want to do...I don't know." Harry sighed. "Of course he could just be ruthless enough that they would listen to him. I mean, he managed to curry favor with wild giants...ruthlessness is practically a way of life," admitted Harry with a shrug.
"There are Giants?" gushed Buffy, then with a shake of her head, "Back on topic," she directed. "That vampire was in the big cemetery downtown. And, that is where most of the teamed attacks have happened...or at least in that general area. His base, or whatever, has to be around there," asserted Buffy. Harry nodded at her reasoning.
"Makes sense, and I'd wager that Macnair would love the spooky atmosphere," commented Harry dryly.
"Eck, I know. Haven't these bad guys ever heard about soft lighting or pastels," complained Buffy. Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Angel, silently asking if she were serious. The vampire shrugged with equal confusion.
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Soon the trio found themselves exploring the largest cemetery in town. It was slow and tedious work. Harry was beginning to remember that he didn't like cemeteries. The quiet was driving him mad. He wouldn't have minded half as much if they'd been attacked by vampires. But, wasn't it always the case that as soon as you wanted to be attacked there wasn't a vampire in sight. It was an unusually quiet night thus far and it was putting Harry on edge. The last few nights it hadn't been uncommon for Harry and Buffy to fight twice before midnight. But, everyone seemed to be laying low. As a general rule, when the bad guys are laying low that usually means that nothing good will happen.
Although, Harry had to admit that the lack of action wasn't the only thing that was bothering him. Angel seemed to have this annoying habit of watching Harry closely. The vampire seemed to have an accusing look in his dark eyes, almost as if he knew all of Harry's sins. It was unnerving, and Harry wasn't easily unnerved. At first Harry had wondered if the vampire was just being cautious, as Buffy had said. He couldn't blame him on that count. Harry knew he was relatively cautious himself. Okay...maybe he wasn't as cautious as he should be, he had a habit of running into situations. But, he always got out of them. And Harry had one advantage that not a lot of people have, he didn't care one way or another if he lived or died.
When he was younger he had. Death had seemed like worst thing in the world. That might have had something to do with the Dursleys. When he was little and had asked what happened when people died, Aunt Petunia had snottily told him that 'good people go to heaven, and nasty little freaks like you go to hell.' At the time Harry hadn't known what hell was, and when he found out he'd been understandably upset about his final destination. But, somehow in the space of the last few years, Harry had stopped caring so much about death. Indeed, death didn't seem so bad. And losing that fear of death allowed Harry to fight Dark Lords, to battle vampires. All with no fear.
But that didn't mean that Harry thought he'd be getting out of Hell.
How did he get on this subject? His thoughts had wondered. Ah yes, Angel. Well after awhile, Harry had noticed that Angel wasn't glancing at him in an evaluating sort of way, rather he seemed to just be looking oddly at Harry. It was an expression Harry couldn't quite follow. Not that the vampire was particularly expressive, but he'd occasionally see a strange look out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't cautious, it wasn't friendly, it seemed almost like hatred or fear. Harry couldn't fathom why that could be. He'd been rather kind to Angel, or so he thought. Xander had teased Angel mercilessly and it didn't seem to phase the vampire. Sure, Harry had jolted him a bit with the apparition, but Buffy had been hurt. If any excuse was a good one, that was it.
Maybe Buffy was right, maybe Angel was just very cautious, but Harry didn't get that feeling from these glares. He knew "over-caution" personified, he was friends with the ex-auror Alastor Moody who cursed stay cats on the chance that they were animagi. He knew that look. This was different. Rather, it seemed as if Angel had judged him and found him lacking. And, perhaps that was Harry's own paranoia. But he had the distinct impression he was correct in this instance. Normally he didn't mind much if people did that. If he seemed a little short or seemed a little dark, while he knew they might have reason to think those things. He'd show them eventually who he was. What right did Angel have to judge? He was a vampire, and had most likely slaughtered thousands before getting back his soul. If anyone knew what it was like to walk that thin line between darkness and light, Angel should know it.
Still, Harry had to work with Angel. He was no stranger to working with people he didn't like. Snape, his snarky potion master from Hogwarts, seemed to think it was his life mission to teach all youths that passed his way such a lesson. Well, Harry had learned it well. But that didn't mean he was going to like Angel, especially if the feeling was mutual.
"I hear something," called Angel softly, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Voices coming from that direction." The vampire raised his hand, pointing of to the left. Buffy nodded, both her and Harry changing their direction.
Harry let his eyes relax, the lids gently covering the eyes. He felt inside his mind for the link that had existed with Voldemort. It still twisted in the back of his mind, like a dying worm. Put enough concentration, enough magic into it and the link twitched. Harry had found, after Voldemort's demise, that this process worked well for sensing if deatheaters were close. On its own, Harry's scar only warned him when Voldemort was near, but with enough concentration he could find those who bore the ugly skull and snake tattoo. Harry's scar, the Dark Mark, it bound them all, even after the originator's death.
"Macnair is not here," Harry said through clenched teeth.
"How can you know that?" Angel asked softly.
"I...it's complicated, but if I concentrate I can sense him if he's near," explained Harry.
"That's handy," commented Buffy. Harry shrugged.
"These could still be his vampires," added Harry. "I can't sense that or not."
"Okay, so let's see what's going on. Even if it just a nest, I should probably, you know, save the day or something," joked Buffy. Harry laughed.
"Ah the troublesome burdens of being the chosen one," teased Harry. Buffy rolled her eyes. She turned to Angel. The group walked more quietly now. They footsteps almost silent, only the sof whisper of rustling the grass rose to their ears. Angel and Buffy had done this thousands of times, and Harry was a quick study. They continued in the direction Angel had pointed for a few minutes until they came upon a dark mausoleum. Well, almost dark. A faint light, almost like candlelight flickered through the cast iron grills that covered the door.
"Any clue how many are in there?" she asked. Angel nodded hesitantly.
"Not more that five, I think," responded Angel. Buffy nodded. Buffy stepped forward with Harry at her side. She reached out a hand toward the rusted lock.
"Easy enough," she whispered aloud. Harry seemed to read her intention, and reached out a hand to have her pause.
"Wait," he cautioned. "Alohamora," he whispered. The lock clicked open.
"Fine we could do it your way," moaned Buffy in complaint. Harry shrugged.
"Well we all don't have super strength, and this is quieter," lectured Harry. Buffy pouted.
"Yeah lets talk-loudly- about how your way was quieter," teased Buffy. Harry reddened slightly.
"Shh," instructed Angel.
"Yes, dad," teased Harry. The vampire sent him a glare and opened the door.
It didn't look as through this particular entrance had been used recently. The doorway was almost artistically decorated by cobwebs. Leaves from autumns past lay cluttered on the stone floor. The trio entered cautiously. Buffy swatting away the cobwebs in her hair with a disgusted look on her face. Eck. She had a job to do but, honestly, couldn't they have tidied up a little. Buffy felt a small tingle at the back of her neck. Her hand touched her hair to find the sticky web gone from her head. She looked beside her and Harry gave her a small smile. She nodded her head thankfully.
The light from earlier seemed to coming from a small trapdoor, which no doubt led to a cellar, or perhaps the sewer tunnels under the city. Whatever voices Angel had heard earlier were silent now. The three grouped around the trapdoor. Their gazes met for a moment deciding a plan of action. Jumping into a pit of unknown number of vampires wasn't on the list of good ideas. Still, this certainly was the most well trained bunch Buffy had ever patrolled with. A vampire and a wizard, both whom she could count on to watch her back and take out a few vamps. She was about to single that she'd jump first when Angel looked away for a moment. His head tilted in a manner as if listening for something. Buffy paused as well. She heard it, a rustling. A dry sound.
The leaves on the floor.
Buffy had just realized what it was, when something kicked her upper back with a great deal of force. Losing her balance, she found herself propelled down, head first, into the cellar. She was vaguely aware of two voices frantically calling her name before the trap slammed shut.
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Harry reflexively spun out of the way, feeling a foot graze his side. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Buffy slip through to the cellar. He called her name and it was echoed by the vampire at his side.
WHAM. In an oddly detached manner, Harry discovered that he had remained still for too long. Something that didn't feel human had struck his hip. He collapsed to the ground his eyes looking up at his attacker. A male vampire with shoulder length blonde hair was holding a baseball bat above him. A baseball bat, ah, that made sense. The vampire might have played in life, he certainly seemed confidant handling his chosen weapon. He raised it over his head and brought it down with surprising speed. Harry rolled out of reach, while at the same time sending healing magic to his hip, which based on the shooting pain was probably broken. Harry used his arms to push himself back up as the warm magic soothed his leg. He balanced on his good leg for a moment. The vampire neared, this time his aim seemed to be for Harry's head. The young wizard ducked, then with a flick of his hand and a somewhat evil grin, the vampire's bat became a flaming torch. The blonde vampire screeched, dropping the bat but his hands were already alight. He tried to frantically put the fire out, but due to the magical nature of this fire, it quickly engulfed his whole body.
Harry had turned his back on the fiery vampire, and was assessing the situation. Angel was fighting two vampires. But, didn't seem to be having any difficulties. Both of his attackers seemed young as well. Harry's eyes left the fight for a moment and tried to figure out where the attackers had come from. He had been fairly certain that the tomb had been empty. There weren't a lot of places to hide after all. As the last flames of the dying vampire behind him flickered, Harry's eyes caught a glimpse of something else. His eyes traveled up. His mouth opened slightly when he noticed a balcony of sorts surrounding the main area. There standing casually, two rows thick, was a cadre of vampires watching the battle. Just before the light left Harry saw one of the vampires smirk in his direction.
Harry turned back to Angel and watched as he dusted the last of his opponents.
"Buffy," moaned Angel, his voice haunted. He rushed toward the trapdoor and began to tug on the iron ring that protruded from the stone surface. Harry turned his body so that he could watch both Angel and the vampires gathered above. They were harder to see in the dark, the subtle gray of their pale skin highlighted in the darkness was his only sign that they were there.
"Give me a hand," Angel called to Harry. Harry waved his hand absently and noted with some interest that magic had been used to seal the door once shut. It wasn't particularly difficult to break, but a non-magic wielder wouldn't have been able to open it. Angel crouched down and scanned the darkness below.
"I can't see her," he whispered. Harry nodded, his gaze not leaving the vampires above.
"Aren't you coming?" demanded Angel, his hand motioned toward the cellar.
"I'll be down in a bit," stated Harry. Angel shot a questioning glance at Harry, who raised his head slightly indicating the vampires above them. Harry watched as Angel's face recognized the situation. "You go ahead," urged Harry. "Make sure she's okay, and shut the door when you leave," advised Harry. Angel seemed to pause with indecision a moment. His gaze stared at the floor Harry was standing on. The young wizard found himself wondering what the vampire was thinking. But, before Harry had to urge him to move, Angel nodded his head and slipped into the darkness of the cellar. His hand gripped the ring on the other side as he leaped, closing the trapdoor behind him.
"Lumos stasis," muttered Harry. He watched as three balls of light emerged and floated to the ceiling. The little lights moved around in a circle casting odd shadows in the tomb. Harry looked up, trying to count how many vampires surrounded him. His best guess was twenty. If he lived, he was going to give Angel a hard time about his estimate of five vampires. Definitely not five.
"So, he chose to remain alone. A noble sacrifice, or has your ego misinterpreted your worth?" asked a cultured voice from above. Harry looked at the speaker. He recognized him as the vampire who had smirked earlier. Harry watched him for a moment. Unlike the three who had been sent down, this one seemed older. Harry wasn't certain how he knew this, after all he hadn't been fighting vampires for long and physically this vampire didn't look out of his twenties, but Harry knew he was old. Perhaps it was the way his dark copper hair fell about his shoulders in a soft wave, or the way his tailored clothes seemed to speak of a different time. It was all subtle. He could no doubt blend in among mortals with little trouble, but the little touches spoke of days gone by. Long gone.
"Who are you?" asked Harry, honestly curious.
"Introductions, from your kind? How odd. Usually you stake first, no civility." The vampire ran a finger through his hair as he spoke. "But you are quite right, propriety must be observed." His mouth twisted into the briefest of smiles as he said the word 'propriety.'
"I am Morgan Mourir, leader of the Sauvage clan," announced the vampire. His hand indicated that those around him were his clan. He said his clan's name with a hint of pride, but didn't seem to expect Harry to get the reference.
"What sort of leader would follow another," pondered Harry aloud.
"Indeed, but formalities," urged Mourir.
"Harry Potter." A discontented murmuring arose from among a few vampires, although most didn't appear to understand the cause. Harry could tell Mourir knew who he was by the slight narrowing of his mouth. With a quick change of plans, Harry decided to use this to his advantage. He really hadn't considered having a chat with the vampire, but this might be the perfect way to gather information about Macnair.
"Again, I ask, what sort of leader follows another?" his tone clearly impish this time.
"A leader whose people can see the value in another's idea," remarked Mourir disdainfully.
"I was curious as to whether Macnair had merely convinced you, or if he had bewitched you into following him," stated Harry.
"He is indeed very persuasive," admitted Mourir. Yet, Harry had the distinct impression it wasn't Mourir who was convinced, his voice didn't suggest it, but rather this people whom Macnair had ensnared.
"Now that introductions are out of the way," growled an annoyed vampire to Mourir's left. Their leader merely raised a well shaped brow at the other vampire. But it seemed the younger vampire didn't understand the silent warning Mourir sent. Instead, he leapt from the railing and was dust before he even hit the ground. A wooden stake conjured out of thin air had lodged in his chest. The other vampires looked militant at this action and many snarled like vengeful demons. Mourir on the other hand looked bored.
Harry began to think he had a firm grasp on what kind of a leader Morgan Mourir was. And, as such he made a decision. A handful to vampires left their perch and surrounded Harry on the ground. But the young wizard had made no move to stake these arrivals. Rather he closed his eyes. He would need to draw on some knowledge and concentration to accomplish what he intended.
Harry's eyes remained closed, and just as the vampires drew near, a burst of light filled the room. But this was not the soft lighting of Harry's lumos spell, rather it was full sunlight. The vampires in the room burst into flame before they could move a step, the inside of the dark tomb seeing sunlight for the first time in decades. Shrieks echoed against the stone
But, this conjured light avoided one spot, Morgan Mourir found himself remaining very still as a black cloud seemed to encircle him, protecting him from the artificial rays. The light dimmed away and both Harry and Mourir watched as dust drifted lazily from the balcony.
"Hmm, impressive," remarked the lone vampire.
"Not really, the sunlight was easy...it was keeping you away from it that required effort," commented Harry. The vampire nodded.
"I feel very special, but I doubt you spared me for my pleasant conversation skills," stated Mourir rather bluntly.
"But I did. Talk Mourir," demanded Harry.
"About what? I happen to know quite a lot about art...but I think you'd be more interested in current events. As to where a certain wizard has moved his remaining forces to." No one could accuse the vampire of brevity, perhaps he just liked listening to his own voice.
"You're getting the idea," affirmed Harry. The vampire nodded.
"I thought so. But, what is keeping you from unleashing your easily called sunlight once I have told you what you want to know?" inquired the vampire with a thoughtful tone in his voice.
"My word," stated Harry. Mourir looked skyward, his fangs glinting in the briefest of smiles.
"Your word. I am hardly a fool, any vampire over the age of twenty can taste the magic you wield. There is a darkness in your soul Mr. Potter, I don't know if that makes me trust you more or less...but than I don't trust you at all so it isn't an issue." Mourir flicked his shoulders imperiously.
"I don't really need you," reminded Harry. "Sunnydale isn't that big, I'll find him without you."
"Of that I have no doubt. But, you want to find him now don't you. You don't want to wait," commented Mourir. Harry clenched his teeth slightly. The vampire was right there. It made him sick to think of Macnair wondering free. He was a guilty man, he'd tortured Buffy, he'd killed Ron. He deserved punishment, the fact that he walked free was an insult to all Harry had done.
Mourir watched the young wizard carefully. In the brief moment when Harry's mind recalled Macnair's crimes, the young man's eyes had glinted red. Mourir acknowledged this with a quick intake of breath. So, it was true.
"La lumière d'enfer," muttered the vampire under his breath. Harry didn't hear. The vampire smiled slightly. "Indeed, Mr Potter," announced Mourir loudly, "perhaps it is your word we can trust. After all, it does me no harm to confide this in you, and for all the darkness in you, there is an equal line with good." Mourir rolled his eyes at the word good. "And while I may not be a fool, Macnair is. He spoke so gleefully of his moments with the slayer," mentioned the vampire. He was rewarded with another flash of red from Harry's eyes. "I do hope you intend on finishing him yourself, I'd hate for those you count among you to be so trifled with," added the vampire.
"Why do you care?" asked Harry cautiously.
"I don't. As you can see followers are free for the asking," Mourir raised his had and indicated the still falling dust.
"They aren't followers their friends," argued Harry.
"To-may-to, To-ma-to, Mr Potter." Harry frowned, Mourir might not see a difference but he did. But, Harry couldn't help but wonder if Mourir cared about anyone. Indeed, Mourir didn't seem very upset about the loss of his followers. Try to understand vampire logic...they're worse than girls thought Harry with a slight shrug. The confusion must have shown on his face, as the vampire choose to address it.
"My clan, Mr Potter, is truly only myself. As all the best clans are indeed only their leaders. The other vampires are like toenails on a body. You may have trimmed my nails young wizard, but I can always grow more," explained Mourir. With a shake of the head he gave the wizard a piercing stare. "Aren't you supposed to be threatening me for information now? 'And it had better be true'." The last sentence was uttered in a deeper voice, Mourir taking on a heroic pose. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I'm new at this bit," replied Harry sheepishly.
"Ah, naivete, how sweet," commented the vampire. Harry's gaze grew fierce.
"Shut it," commanded the young wizard. Mourir did his best to look contrite.
"Well, no more beating around the bush, things to do and such...our illustrious leader chose to relocate to a place of more prominence. The area is of some importance and due to an unfortunate fire, the location was abandoned."
"Huh? That's as clear as mud," grumbled Harry.
'Well, I was going to make it sound all prophetic but 'Clarity of mind means clarity of passion,' as they say. And indeed this is a passionate time, not a time of lengthy words but a time of action and..."
"A bit too late on the lengthy words bit," interrupted an annoyed Harry. Where did this guy come from, he wondered, weren't vampires supposed to be violent bloodthirsty beings? This guy didn't seem like he could best a toaster.
"Indeed, fine. Macnair has moved to hellmouth, west side of town, former highschool. Clear enough?" Harry nodded looking away to ponder what this might mean. Mourir gave the young man a last look. The child had no idea what he was starting, what he was getting into. It almost made this whole shame of following Macnair worth it. Almost. These sort of things were always so tenuous. One never knew if ones work had paid off until the deed was done. Using the boy's moment of distraction, Mourir snuck toward an exit behind him, best not to tempt a gray wizard's word. By the time Harry looked up the vampire was gone.
Harry didn't find himself concerned about Mourir's quick exit. He was more concerned about what he had learned, and what this information might mean. He and his Uncle had discussed the possibility of Macnair attempting to open the hellmouth, but their speculation was beginning to sound more probable. They needed to head back and make a plan. Normally Harry might have been tempted to storm in and 'get' Macnair. Although what 'get' meant at the moment was unclear. Still, the possibility of unleashing hell on earth was reason enough to pause.
Now, where were Buffy and Angel...?
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A/N: Okay, see how much I love you. I'm currently sick in bed, sneezing, burning with fever, and various nasty liquids are leaking from my nostrils (too much information?) I'm practically on my deathbed people! (Okay that is a little much) And yet I chose to exert myself and finish this chapter. Now do you all feel loved. You had better! Perhaps some well wishing reviews would cheer me up. Hint. hint.
Also, what do you think of Mourir? He's hardly to play a large part but I kinda like him as a character..what is your opinion?
Now as many of you know, I have a habit of responding to reviews. It is only fair, or so I believe. However, I have had some very kind and loyal reviewers who I haven't been able to send my thanks to, and would like to do so now. So thank you for your words Joyclene, Knives, both of you have been very kind to send me many words and I've felt guilty being unable to respond. So thank you. (A big thanks to all my other anon. reviewers too. Don't want you folks to feel left out!)
Mourir's quote is from the French mathematician Blaise Pascal.