DISCLAIMER
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.


1 December

"What do you think of this, Alice?" Frank wondered, pushing over the parchment he had been writing on towards Alice, who was currently amusing their son by blowing bubbles with Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, filling the sitting room with bluebell-coloured bubbles. Neville's eyes were wide as he poked them with his chubby fingers, giggling when some of them burst and blinking in cute confusion when some refused to, and instead stuck themselves to his fingers.

Sucking the current bubble she was forming back into her mouth, Alice turned to glance at the parchment. "You sound stuck-up," she said once she finished.

Frank sighed. "I know. But I think if we want to get custody of Harry, this application has to sound stuck-up and properly 'pureblood.'"

"I suppose. I still think you should tone it down a little – there were a couple of sections that made me believe I was reading something written by a Malfoy and not my husband," Alice smirked.

"Really?" Frank asked, reclaiming the parchment and skimming it over, an expression of revulsion crossing his face as he found the sentences Alice had talked about. "By Merlin, you're right…" He shuddered.

"I always am," Alice sing-songed, before she unwrapped yet another piece of gum, put it in her mouth and blew yet another bubble to amuse her son. Neville watched with wide eyes and then stretched out his fingers towards the colourful wrapper.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded across the house and Frank and Alice exchanged worried looks. Neville looked frightened and Alice hastily picked him up and grabbed her wand from its wrist holster. Frank grabbed his own wand and cast a silent spell, paling as he got the result. "The wards are down and there are at least four hostiles on the premises."

Alice smiled weakly. "I suppose your mother was right – not moving back into Longbottom manor was foolish. I suppose she will get to tell us 'I told you so' if – "

" – There's no if about it," Frank interrupted curtly, having correctly guessed what Alice intended to say. "You and Neville will be fine."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Don't argue, just get to the floo – I'll be right behind you."

Realising they were wasting time, Alice hurriedly entered the sitting room and threw a handful of floopowder into the fireplace. The flames flickered green for less than second, and then died out. "It's not working." Her voice trembled and she clutched Neville tighter, her mother-instincts overruling her Auror-training.

"Get out the backdoor," Frank ordered her. "I'll hold them off at the front."

Giving Frank one last look, hoping it conveyed everything she felt in that moment, Alice took off, hoping that was not the last time she set eyes on her husband. Unfortunately, when she got to the backdoor, she found it was already blocked off – by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.

Bellatrix clapped her hands together in delight as she caught sight of Alice who hastily conjured a shield around herself and Neville, knowing she couldn't duel without risking Neville's life. "Well, it's not the warm welcome I was expecting, but I suppose you can't get everything you want these days, hmm?" Alice clenched her jaw. Bellatrix was less than sane on an average day, but right at this moment, she looked even more unhinged than usual. Her hair stood up in every direction and her eyes were crazed. "And you brought your little cutie along! How sweet!"

"You stay the hell away from my son," Alice spat, trying to ignore the sounds of duelling she heard in the background, coming from the opposite end of the house.

"Well, that will depend on you, won't it, dearest?" Bellatrix asked, and before Alice could react, she suddenly had her wand pointed at her. Beside her, Rodolphus stood unmoving, like a silent bodyguard. "Now, back up – slowly, and no sudden movements, unless you want your little Nevvie-pooh to get cursed in that pretty face of his. I bet it won't take me long to get that little shield down. I'm highly motivated," she added in a fierce whisper.

Forced to obey, Alice slowly walked back to the kitchen. In her arms, Neville trembled, obviously frightened, though he was thankfully keeping silent. Bellatrix jerked her head towards one of the chairs. "Sit. 'Dolphie, darling, why don't you go help your brother and Barty in the hall?"

Alice paled. Barty? Did she mean Bartemius Crouch, head of the Magical Law Enforcement, her boss? Surely Voldemort's influence had not reached that far…

Bellatrix' cackles interrupted her thoughts. "I know what you're thinking!" she sing-songed. "But you're wrong. Our Barty is not your Barty – he's his son." She let out a noise of frustration, and suddenly, before Alice could react, she'd thrown herself at her, grabbing Alice wand and jerking it from her grasp. Her shield did not stop physical attacks, Alice realised, too late. At last, Neville burst into tears.

Bellatrix grinned and twirled Alice's wand between her fingers. Then, she shouted: "Tell Frankie to come quietly or I'll gut his wife and child and I'll laugh while I do it!" Her voice was loud and jeering, and there was no way Frank hadn't heard, even over the sounds of battle. Alice heard the sound of a curse impacting with a wall, and then, silence. Less than ten seconds later, Frank was led into the sitting room, bound in ropes, and forced down in a chair next to Alice's. Her husband threw her a defeated look.

"I'm sorry," Alice mouthed. Frank only shook his head in a comforting motion, as if to tell her it was not her fault, but his.

"Finally, we're all gathered." Bellatrix beamed at both Longbottoms. "I'll take the little sweetie," she said, grabbing Neville from Alice.

"No!" Alice exclaimed, trying to stop her from taking him, but was stopped by Rabastan's hands on her shoulders. Beside her, Frank was straining wildly against the ropes that bound him.

"Tssk, tssk," Bellatrix tutted, ignoring Neville's cries – or perhaps revelling in them. "I won't harm him. Yet." She cocked her head. "I suppose that depends on you."

"What do you want?" Frank growled. "If you were planning on killing us, you would have done it already. You've had plenty of chances."

"Oh, aren't you clever?" Barty exclaimed, his tongue darting out in an obscene motion.

"Where is the Dark Lord?" Rodolphus asked, his voice dark. His wife was now cooing at Neville who squirmed in her arms, clearly terrified.

"Dead," Frank snapped. "Or didn't you get the memo?"

"He is not dead!" Bellatrix snapped, walking forwards furiously, practically flinging a screaming Neville into Barty's arms. "The Dark Lord is immortal - he will never fall! I know you know where he is! Tell me!"

"I don't know!" Frank snapped out. "All I know is what was in the newspapers - Voldemort attacked the Potters and was killed by a baby."

"YOU DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!" Bellatrix screeched, furiously. "YOU'RE NOT WORTHY TO UTTER THE DARK LORD'S NAME!" She flung out her wand. "CRUCIO! CRUCIO!"

Alice screamed as her husband arched backwards in his chair from the force of the Unforgivable. His entire body seized, blue veins and muscle straining in his neck from the pain, but he did not make a single sound. "Stop it! STOP IT!" she repeated when Rodolphus joined Bellatrix in cursing her husband. Finally, Frank screamed, but neither of them let up and Frank's eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body jerked from the nerve damage.

"Tell us what we want to know!" Rodolphus growled at Frank while Bellatrix cackled. "Where has the Dark Lord gone?!" Neville had fallen silent, put under a silencing charm by Barty and then bound to his baby-chair, forced to watch his parents get tortured. At last, the two married Death Eaters dropped the curse on Frank.

"Well?" Bellatrix hissed.

"I don't know anything," Frank panted, his voice hoarse from screaming and his eyes red from the blood-vessels that had burst in his eyes. Alice was sobbing. "We don't know...anything," he repeated.

Bellatrix' eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, getting up in Frank's face. "I don't believe you." And then, she once again pointed her wand at him, once again joined by her husband. "CRUCIO!"

Frank screamed.

"HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Alice kept shouting, over and over, as she was forced to watch her husband be tortured to an inch of his life. "HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Blood had begun to pout out of Frank's mouth - he had bitten partway through his tongue - and he choked. "PLEASE, STOP HURTING HIM!" Tears streamed unhindered down Alice's face.

"Perhaps he really doesn't know anything," Rabastan said from behind Alice, his voice bored, the tip of his wand pointing at Alice's neck. "Or perhaps he's simply not...motivated enough."

Bellatrix dropped her curse, and soon after, so did Rodolphus. Barty was weighing from foot to foot, looking elated by the proceedings but so far not actively participating in the torture. "What do you mean?" the witch practically purred, her forehead gleaming with sweat from the effort it took to keep the Cruciatus curse up for such a long period of time.

Rabastan smiled, and then, it was Alice's turn to scream. Her nerves were on fire, and she jerked forward, desperately trying to get away from Rabastan's wand. The Cruciatus curse had been silently cast, but to Alice, it felt even more painful than when the curse was said aloud: Rabastan's wand was still in direct contact with her skin, pointed directly against the base of her skull where it met her spine. Forceful shocks were sent through the critical neurological and vascular structures that could be found there, and into her brain. Her head jerked back and forth as her neck began to spasm, and she let out a weak gurgle that sounded strange to her own ears, and for a moment, her vision blacked out, and so did her hearing.

When it came back, the first thing she heard was Frank shouting: "...her go! She doesn't know anything! Please, stop! Please! Please! Stop!" His voice sounded weak and raspy, ruined from screaming, and he was slurring.

Alice felt the curse be lifted, but she kept jerking, her nerves and muscles no longer completely under her control. And yet, from somewhere, she got the strength to lift her head, to look at Frank and Neville. Neville, in his baby-chair, had tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. Frank had blood streaming from his ears, nose and mouth, and the whites of his eyes where completely bloodshot.

"Is anyone ready to talk yet?" Bellatrix asked, almost sweetly.

"We can't tell you what we don't know," Alice managed to get out. The room was spinning.

Bellatrix' eyes darkened.

"CRUCIO!" Four voices echoed this time and Alice screamed again. Beside her, Frank's chair tipped over as the Auror jerked back from the force of three wands pointed at him, and he hit his head at the hard tiles. And yet, none of them stopped, and kept cursing him where he lay. Frank's entire body was seizing, his limbs jerking and twisting almost like a strange slithering dance on the floor. Drool joined the blood gushing out of his mouth, down his chin and onto the stone floor, and his eyes fluttered. His head was bleeding from where it had impacted with the floor. Rabastan was still cursing Alice, his wand pressed even more tightly against the junction of her skull and spine.

Time passed. Alice couldn't think. She could no longer scream. There was only pain, her brain slowly shutting down to dangerous levels, even as she made a last conscious effort to escape deeper into her damaged mind in an effort to escape the pain. The last thing she saw before the world turned a blinding white and she lost the things that anchored her to reality, was a wrapper of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum that had ended up beneath the kitchen table when she played with Neville.

"TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW! TELL US EVERYTHING YOU KNOW!" Bellatrix insisted, over and over again, going from cursing Frank, to Alice, to Frank again, not realising, or not caring, that her companions had all stopped.

"They can't tell us anything, Bella," Rodolphus said at last and grabbed her arm. "Look at them. They're vegetables."

"Vegetables." Bellatrix repeated, and then giggled as she looked at the two Aurors. Frank was still on the floor and Alice had slumped over in her chair. The couple's limbs were still occasionally twitching, blood dribbling out of their orifices. Their eyes were blank and void of intelligence. "Vegetables!" she let out a cackling laugh, and then, she burst into sobs. "Where is he, Dolphie?" She let out a keening whine, walking into her husband's arms. "Where is the Dark Lord? I must find him! He is counting on me!" She gave Rodolphus imploring look, her expression almost childlike. "I must find him," she repeated.

"And we will," Rabastan said.

"There are other sources," Barty said. "Other Aurors." His eyes gleamed with eagerness mixed with some fright. "Perhaps even my father..."

Bellatrix withdrew from Rodolphus' arms. "You're right, of course," she said, suddenly completely composed again. "But first, let's deal with this little sweetie." The witch turned to Neville, who still sat in his baby-chair, his eyes red and swollen, his body occasionally jerking with silent hiccups. She tapped the toddler's nose teasingly. "Let it not be said I cannot be reasoned with. It is only fair to let him join his parents, is it not?"

"Most fair, indeed," Rodolphus agreed.

"Send off the Dark Mark, Barty," Bellatrix ordered her brother-in-law. Barty nodded sharply, and then turned to leave the room, only to be hit with a stunner that impacted directly with his chest, and he dropped like a stone. Before the other three Death Eaters could react, all of them were hit with disarming spells, and surrounded by Aurors and other people from the Law Enforcement, most notably, Bartemius Crouch senior, who now stepped forwards.

"Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange," Crouch said, his voice monotone. "You are under arrest." Only then did he notice Barty who had fallen face down when the stunner had hit him. "And who is this scum?" he spat out, kicking him in the side until he rolled over. Crouch jerked back in shock and horror as he caught sight of his son's face. From the sharp breaths and hisses of the other people with him, they too had recognised who he was. "No..." Bellatrix began to laugh and Crouch's eyes hardened as he cast a silent rennervate on his son, who sat up groggily.

Barty blinked as he regained consciousness, and then, his lips began to tremble. "Father! Thank Merlin! I-I haven't done anything, I swear! You must believe me!"

Crouch said nothing, instead, he simply dragged up his son's left sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark there. "Haven't done anything?" he echoed with an angry growl. "That mark says otherwise."

"Father - "

" - You're no son of mine," Crouch hissed and then gestured to his Aurors with a jerk of his head. "Seize him. Take all four into custody. We'll deal with all of you back at the Ministry."

The majority of the Aurors stepped forward and grabbed the four Death Eaters, while the rest stepped forward to deal with Frank and Alice. Moody sighed as he caught sight of the state of his protégées and with one glance, realised their state of mind - or rather, the lack of it. If he had had a choice, he would have seen one or both of them in charge of the Auror Department and perhaps even the Magical Law Enforcement itself one day. He had had big plans for them both - and for James Potter, and for Sirius Black. All of their careers had been so bright. And now... He shook his head. He felt suddenly tired. He liked to pretend he didn't give a damn...but he did. How could he not?

"They're a little out of it, if you know what I mean," Bellatrix cackled loudly, even as she was led away, to the horror of the Aurors who were now doing a cursory exam of Frank and Alice. Aurors were trained to do minor field healing, but what Frank and Alice needed were far beyond their abilities - perhaps far beyond anyone's.

Clenching his jaw, Moody once again forced himself to harden his heart. "Get them to St. Mungo's, and pray they're not too far gone to help." He then caught sight of Neville. "Take the boy too."

"A memory charm?" Tomas Proudfoot asked quietly.

"Not up to me," Moody grunted. "But if it were my decision, then, yes, I'd take the memory of this away. No child so young should have to remember their parents being tortured."


2 December

Healer after Healer kept treating and looking at Frank and Alice throughout the night, none of them wanting to give up. They had already lost one hero of the war - James Potter - under their watch - but to lose the equally respected Longbottoms as well, barely a fortnight afterwards? None of them wanted to accept that. All of St. Mungo's most prominent mind-Healers were called into to consult and to examine Frank and Alice, but even they had no answer and were forced to scratch their heads in despair. As night became morning and morning turned to noon, they were forced to put their wands and potions away. Nothing was working.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do, except to make them comfortable in our long term ward," the Healer in charge of the Longbottom case, Brendan Hopkins, finally told a distraught but resolute Augusta Longbottom. The old matriarch's back was straight and her eyes dry - there would be no tears from her - as she was led into the room Frank and Alice had been placed in. "They're just...gone. Their bodies are there, but their minds..." Brendan shook his head. "I am truly sorry."

Augusta only nodded, her lips pursed tightly as she stroked Frank and Alice's heads, and then, touched Alice's cheek gently, and leaned down to kiss her son's still forehead. Both of them had been put into a peaceful sleep, and no physical sign remained of the torture they had gone through.

"Thank you for trying," she said stiffly as she straightened up. "And where is my grandson? Surely the memory charm could not have taken all night to apply? I expected him back in my arms hours ago." Augusta had given the Healers permission to obliviate Neville the moment he, Frank and Alice were brought in and things were explained to her. Her grandson did not need the emotional scarring that remembering such an event would bring him, and everyone knew that the sooner a memory charm was performed after the moment you wanted to remove, the bigger the chance of success.

"The reason we didn't bring him to you sooner was because we wanted to examine him for injuries, even if there were none visible," Hopkins explained. "And since he's so little, we wanted to keep him under observation after we did the memory charm. He should be along any minute now, though – " the Healer notably hesitated.

" – Though what? What has happened?" Augusta demanded to know, her voice sharp.

Brendan sighed. "We performed the memory charm as soon as your grandson was brought in, like you asked, but there were…complications. His mind was still in a state of shock and so confused that it should not have been tampered with at the time, though if we had waited, I doubt we could have erased the memory at all: a baby's mind is very complex. The entire event was removed, but I'm afraid some of his short-term memory might suffer as a result."

"What does that mean?" Augusta Longbottom asked quickly in a no-nonsense tone of voice that the Healer recognised: he often heard it in relatives or patients who wanted - demanded - to know the untarnished truth, no matter how horrible.

"Well, it's not anything to worry about right now, but when he gets older, your grandson may have trouble remembering small things, like where he put his socks, or what he has for homework. However, it should not affect his everyday living: when he enters puberty, it is most likely these problems will gradually disappear, and they should be completely gone by the time he's an adult."

Augusta took a deep breath, happy it was not anything more serious. "Thank you for your honesty. Will you make sure my son and his wife gets placed in the long-term ward? And I want them both to have the best of care - I don't care about the cost."

Hopkins nodded. "Of course."

Augusta nodded her head shortly at the Healer in response, before she stalked out of the room, no longer wanting to look at the emptiness that was her son and his wife.


8 December

To Buffy and Remus, the news about Frank and Alice came as yet another unwelcome blow to the couple - and yet, after everything that had already happened, it wasn't that shocking. It was just yet another awful thing to deal with on top of everything else. With the Longbottoms now unable to fight for Harry's custody, the two were forced to give up and realise that Harry was out of their reach. Instead, Buffy and Remus tried to pick up the pieces in the war's aftermath and try to focus on what they still had, rather than what they had lost, and enjoy the knowledge that they were now husband and wife.

But it was impossible to completely shut out what was happening in the rest of the world. The Daily Prophet constantly reported news on the Death Eater trials that were now happening at the Ministry.

Severus Snape was brought to trial, but Dumbledore vouched for him to everyone in the Order's surprise: here was, apparently, one spy, that unlike Dorcas, had been kept secret and as such survived. Buffy knew it was likely his love - or obsession - for Lily was what made him switch sides, and she wondered when it had happened. And yet, Buffy couldn't help but wonder if Snape truly had switched - who was he really double-crossing? Voldemort or Dumbledore? Or both? She wondered what side he would take when Voldemort returned, as she was sure he would. Would the memory of Lily be enough to keep him on the right side?

Snape was one of few Death Eaters to be acquitted: Bartemius Crouch was merciless in most of his verdicts. To no one's surprise, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were all sentenced to Azkaban for life - however, that Barty Crouch Jr. got the same sentence was, especially as it was passed by his own father. But still some thought all four Death Eaters should have gotten the kiss for what they had done to the Longbottoms. Buffy disagreed: if they were kissed, except for the terror of that moment, they would not truly suffer, while in Azkaban, their minds would be tortured in a way that she felt fit the crime - a mind for a mind. Perhaps it was a harsh stance to take, but Buffy felt the last few months had hardened her even more than the war as a whole had done.

As December began, more and more of Voldemort's followers and supporters were tracked down and brought in for questioning and sentencing. Many of the arrests could be made thanks to the secret intelligence gathered by Caradoc, as Moody reported to the Order. But despite Caradoc's obvious success in his mission, not every arrest was made successfully - many were killed and injured in the spellfire that broke out when Aurors and Hit-Wizards and Witches showed up to arrest the Death Eaters in their various hiding places. St. Mungo's had their hands full, and many of Voldemort's closest supporters were still on free foot. If Buffy knew Caradoc right, he would not stop until he found them, and she worried about the danger it put him in.


"Have our mutual friends gotten back from their trip yet?" Moody said gruffly, his voice low. His appearance was disguised under polyjuice to resemble an average muggle he had grabbed some hairs from several blocks away, days previous, and yet, he glanced around in paranoia. He wished polyjuice didn't negate the use of his magical eye, even if it was nice to have two real and functioning eyeballs for once.

Caradoc, heavily disguised under a glamour leaned forward across the small table in the muggle bar, a rather seedy place with strippers that would hopefully keep the focus away from them. Even so, they made sure to disguise their conversation, using placement words: friends were Death Eaters.

"Two of them have," Caradoc said, forcing his voice to sound even, as though they were talking about nothing special. He knew it was unlikely there was a Death Eater here, but he couldn't help but worry anyway. He could never be completely sure he had avoided detection, that he hadn't been found out, that he hadn't been followed... So much depended on this mission. To truly bring an end to Voldemort's influence, his supporters had to be found. Like Moody, his eyes darted around and a light sheen of sweat was visible on his face. The stress of this mission was clearly getting to him. "The rest decided to stay awhile longer." He took a long sip from his muggle whisky.

Fervent interest flickered in Moody's eyes, though other than that, he showed no reaction to Caradoc's real message: 'I've found two Death Eaters. The whereabouts of the others are still unknown.' "Did anything else interesting happen this week?"

"Do you remember that butcher's shop you recommended?" Caradoc asked. "Well, I checked it out, and you were right - they do really good work...best meat I've ever tasted." Moody smirked as he inwardly decoded Caradoc's sentence. The butcher's shop, in other words Walden Macnair. The man had long been suspected of being a Death Eater, but no one had been able to prove it - and now, Caradoc, on Moody's prompting, had found proof. "Of course," Caradoc continued, "it may have been a onetime thing. I may need to buy from there a few more times to make sure."

Moody frowned. That was less good. So Caradoc's proof may not hold up in court right now. He needed more evidence to back it up. "Take as much time you need," he said. "Our bet isn't going anywhere," he added to lend some credence to their conversation, and to ask Caradoc whether he was really up for this: the man looked stressed out. "Maybe you should just admit defeat now and save yourself some trouble."

Caradoc's eyes narrowed. "You know I hate to do that. Besides, even if you win the bet, I'll still get some good meat out of the bargain." 'I'm not going to quit - not until I have more information that can benefit our side.'

"Alright," Moody said. "But don't overeat." 'Don't get in over your head.'

"I won't. I've made a couple of new acquaintances this week - I can always invite them over to dinner." 'I've found two other Death Eaters as well. Hopefully, I can help bring them in too.'

"Don't forget to invite me," Moody said. "I'm always up for meeting new friends."

Caradoc smirked. "How about next week, same time as today? We can meet up and have a drink first."

"Here?"

"Why not?" Caradoc stood up, nodding towards the stage, leering as though he appreciated the view of the strippers even though in reality he couldn't care less. "The entertainment's good. By the way," he added and pulled out a napkin from one of his pockets, "you've got foam around your mouth." Caradoc threw the napkin at Moody and then walked away.

Moody caught the napkin, wiped his mouth, and then stuffed it into his own pocket, and exited the smoky bar. After walking a few blocks and making sure he hadn't been followed, he apparated home. Once safely back in his own house, he pulled out the napkin and pointed his wand at it, mumbling a revealing spell under his breath, and then the password they had come to an agreement of: "The Phoenix rises."

Spidery lines of Caradoc's handwriting appeared: , Jugson, followed by an address in Newhaven. Moody's eyebrows rose to his hairline even as the effect of the polyjuice wore off. This, he had not expected. Not only had Caradoc found the hideout of two Death Eaters, but they were both well-known. Avery Senior was even one of Voldemort's first supporters, one of the first members of his inner-circle. And Jugson was also relatively high-ranked.

Moody looked to the bottom of the napkin where he found the names of the other two Death Eaters Caradoc had discovered: A. Carrow x2. The veteran Auror frowned. So there were two Death Eaters called the Carrows, both with names that began with an A. That more than likely made them siblings, maybe even twins. Unfortunately, Moody didn't recognise the name - hopefully, Dumbledore would.

"Albus Dumbledore's office!" Moody shouted as he stepped into his fireplace after he threw in a handful of floo-powder. First, Dumbledore would get this information...and then, the Aurors could move in on Avery and Jugson, before they could move location and Caradoc's information became useless. Hopefully, another successful arrest could be made today.


Two hours later, a force of Aurors and Hit-Wizards closed in on a small building in the port of Newhaven. Avery Senior and Jugson, who were planning to cross the English Channel and escape to France after a night's rest, were taken by complete surprise. However, so were the Aurors, when they realised not two, but three Death Eaters were on the premises. Even so, it did not take long for Jugson to be arrested and the third Death Eater, whom they recognised as Avery Junior, dressed in only his nightclothes, wasn't putting up a fight at all: it took very little to disarm and subdue him. Avery Senior's defeat seemed inevitable and that's when most Death Eaters would have given up.

But the Aurors were once again taken by surprise when the older Death Eater turned his own wand upon himself and spoke the killing curse, rather than surrender. For a moment, everyone only stared at the man in shock. And then, Avery Junior finally began to struggle, seemingly snapping out of the numbness he had seemed to be in throughout the entire raid, and he began to kick and bite and scratch the Aurors holding him in order to get away and was quickly stunned.


15 December

Moody, back in his muggle disguise, checked his watch for what must be the twentieth time. Caradoc was late. Over two hours late. So far, the Auror had been forced to politely refuse the company of at least six different strippers - two of them together - and yet their refusal to take a hint wasn't what bothered him the most. No, the fact that Caradoc was two hours late did.

On a mission like Caradoc's, where discretion was key and it was important not to be followed, being up to an hour late, maybe even an hour and a half, could be explained. But once you passed the two hour mark, it always meant something had gone wrong - something that you couldn't get yourself out of. And Moody had no idea where Caradoc was planning on going, where he'd been, what people he was going to meet... All he had were names, the Carrows, names that meant nothing: not even Dumbledore had recognised them - they were not even on the Hogwarts registry of old students.

Another hour went by. Moody left - what else could he do? - and then reported to Dumbledore, who immediately turned grave once he heard Caradoc had not shown up. The man might grouch and grumble, but when it came down to it, he was more trustworthy and more punctual than most. Both Moody and Dumbledore knew that he must have been found out and captured - and with Voldemort's followers on the edge to desperation with their Master gone and a majority of them being hunted down and sent to prison, it was likely he was dead.

The war might be considered over - but that did not mean no more soldiers would fall. The Longbottoms had been proof of that - and now Caradoc was as well.


17 December

"Knock, knock." Buffy knocked tiredly on her boss, Marion Jones' office. She had barely slept these past two days. Once she got the news about Caradoc's 'disappearance' it had been nearly impossible to sleep, and instead, she'd remained awake for two nights in a row, crying silently, crying without tears, curled up in Remus' safe embrace. Another friend dead - and this time, she didn't even know what had happened.

And the worst thing was that his death felt meaningless: a rush trial had been done for Walden Macnair after Moody arrested him based on Caradoc's information the day after his disappearance. But with Caradoc missing, there was no actual proof and Macnair was released - with the Ministry's apologies, and Moody got a dressing down. The Carrows, two other Death Eaters Caradoc had identified, were also dismissed as a lead - no one had ever even heard of them, so no one knew where to start looking and it was likely they too would get away. They were most probably not even in the country anymore.

Of the three Death Eaters found in Newhaven thanks to Caradoc's information, only Jugson had been sentenced to Azkaban, but he was only given twenty years. Avery Senior escaped justice by committing suicide, and his son had been acquitted of any crime, after he claimed his father had put him under the Imperius curse. And, unluckily enough for justice, old traces of it were found on his father's wand when it was tested, 'proving' this statement.

Buffy had never felt angrier - Caradoc had died for information that in the end made very little difference. And yet, as angry as she was at the Ministry, she was even angrier at Caradoc himself. He'd said he would be alright, that he wouldn't die. Buffy knew her thoughts were unreasonable - she knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but he was the only good friend she had had left, other than Remus, of course, and he was her husband - their relationship was completely different. Samantha. Michaela Duncan and Nick Vandom. Mandy. All the Order members she'd known. Lily. James. Frank. Alice. And now Caradoc. There were just so many losses...

"Buffy, come in!" Marion greeted. "I'm glad you came by." Her eyes glittered happily and Buffy forced herself to smile, opening her mouth to ask the question she'd had on her mind for days, but before she could, Marion spoke again: "Before you go on holiday, I've got something for you." The Healer opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a formal looking parchment and held it out to Buffy, who took it in confusion. Then, she glanced down at it and her eyes widened as she caught sight of the title:

HEALER CERTIFICATE
BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS

Buffy could only gawk as she stared down at the certificate with joyful disbelief. She had made it. She was actually a Healer. There it was, green ink on cream parchment, the proof that she was a certificated Healer with leave to work on Creature-Induced injuries without supervision, and spell-damage in the field in case of emergencies.

In a way, it felt even more special than graduating from Hogwarts and passing her N.E.W.T.s had, because going to Hogwarts for a year had sort of been just handed to her by Dumbledore. Sure, she had studied furiously for her N.E.W.T.s, but the biggest reason for that was to get into Healer training – and in a way they had been a failure. She was proud she had passed all her subjects despite the fact she had only had a single year of magical schooling under her belt at that point, but her grades hadn't gotten her into the program – a successful interview had, despite her N.E.W.T.s results, which had been below the normal acceptance rate for Healer training.

But this, the certificate, she had truly earned. It hadn't been handed to her, like her Hogwarts schooling, or even her Slayer calling (not like that always felt like a gift…). Once she'd gotten into the Healer program, she had worked hard for this, truly wanted it. And now she had it.

Buffy also knew there was only one person she wanted to celebrate with. Remus. He was the only thing that made sense to her lately, the only one she could depend on, the only one she still had left and the only reason she hadn't had a breakdown. Marrying him, even with all the grief surrounding them, was the best decision she'd ever made.

"Well?" Marion interrupted her inner musings with a smile. "Don't just stand there!"

"I…thank you," Buffy gushed, cradling the certificate to her chest. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Don't thank me, Buffy," Healer Jones smiled. "You've earned that license. You've been a delight to teach and a great aid to St. Mungo's, both on and off duty. You've saved several lives during your time with us and I will be very happy to have you on staff – to call you my friend and co-worker, and not just my friend and Trainee Healer. I'll expect you bright and early tomorrow, to work out a regular schedule for your shifts. But right now, I expect you want to get home and celebrate with your man. Didn't you get married a month ago?"

Buffy nodded, still in a bit of a daze. "Yes. But…" she bit her lip, suddenly remembering her actual errand coming in to Marion's office. The Healer permit had taken her completely by surprise, temporarily wiping all other thought from her mind. "Before I leave, can you check something for me?" For almost two months now, she had throwing up at various intervals. The first time it happened, she'd been eating food she'd cooked with Lily and had thought it was food poisoning – she was, after all, a disaster in the kitchen. But then it happened a second time, and a third, and so on, and suspicion began to rear its ugly head. Still, she had dismissed the possibility of it being pregnancy symptoms.

But then her period had stopped coming, but even that she'd been able to dismiss since it had been irregular anyway ever since she'd been called as the Slayer. But then, after the last full moon, Remus had remarked Moony had noticed her smell had changed, and that was the final nail in the coffin. If she'd kept denying it then, she would have been an idiot.

Buffy suspected her reluctance to believe she was pregnant was because she was scared. She desired a child, yes – when Harry had been born, she had even given Remus a hint that it was something she wanted in the future. But it had still only been a vague idea, something she thought wouldn't happen for years, something she didn't have to think about until later. But now, it seemed later was already here, and Buffy felt she knew nothing about being a good mother. As much as she loved her own, Joyce hadn't understood her or her calling until she was gone and it was too late.

More than ever, she wished Lily was still alive, so she could ask her if she'd been just as scared as she was when she learned she was pregnant with Harry. Of course, Lily wasn't a Slayer, but Buffy figured she could cut back on her slaying little by little, until she got too large and encumbered to fight, and then use magic. And it wasn't like she would be a single parent, and she'd been more than ready to try and get custody of Harry. The only difference was that this was about her own child, and perhaps that was the real issue:

Buffy wasn't sure how Remus would react: she'd seen his face when she mentioned the possibility of children – he'd looked terrified – and even though he had quickly masked his expression, Buffy had still felt his fear through their bond. But with that fear, there had also been hope. There was no doubt Remus wanted children – he adored kids - but just like her, he'd never entertained the possibility. And Buffy was certain it all came down to fear he would pass on his lycanthropy, or that his condition would somehow make him an unfit parent.

Buffy hoped that the protection of their soulmate bond coupled with his newfound understanding of his inner-wolf and that he'd been at least partly in charge of his own mind during the last few transformations, that fear wasn't enough to overpower him.

Marion's happy smile disappeared, a worried expression taking its place. "Of course. Is something wrong?"

Buffy smiled weakly. "I think I might be pregnant," she admitted. "And I'm too much of a coward to do the diagnostic charm on myself."

"What do you want the result to be?" Marion asked kindly.

"I want it to be positive," she admitted. "But since I got called as the Slayer, having a child is something I thought would never happen to me. Even when I started throwing up, I almost immediately dismissed it as a possibility because I didn't want to get my hopes up."

Marion nodded. "I can understand that. How long have you been showing symptoms?"

"I started throwing up about two months ago, I think."

Marion grinned at her. "An out of wedlock baby, then," she teased. "Alright, let's check."

The Healer pulled out her wand and Buffy closed her eyes, not wanting to see her do the charm. "Well, congratulations," the Healer said after a few seconds and Buffy opened her eyes to see her smile. "It's positive."

Buffy took a deep breath, nodding. "I guess I already knew that."

"Do you want to know how far along you are?"

Buffy nodded again. "Yes, please."

Marion did another charm and Buffy watched with baited breath for the results to arrive. Then, her conception date was there, in gold lettering floating on air: 28 September 1981.

Buffy blushed, remembering that day well. That had been the day of hers and Remus shopping spree – and it had been a spree, she was a bit embarrassed to admit – and they'd both been in a very high spirits once they got back, Buffy gushing over her new shoes, Remus his new books, and then, they'd just thrown their shopping bags aside and – her blush deepened. They'd christened their new sofa quite thoroughly.

"The day after you got your Order of Merlin," Marion grinned at her. "I'm guessing you were in a celebratory mood around that time."

"Yes, we were," Buffy mumbled. "Thank you, Marion."

"You're welcome. Now get going! And have a happy Christmas!"


"Hey, you're home early," Remus said brightly as Buffy entered the Lupin cottage - truly their cottage now. "And you look...kind of dazed." He frowned. "Are you alright? I know hearing about Caradoc - "

" - I'm a fully fledged Healer," Buffy interrupted him. "I got certified today. And I'm pregnant," she added.

Remus, his brain still stuck on Buffy's first piece of news, grinned widely at her. "That's great, Buffy! I always knew you could do it! I'm so proud of you! You're a Healer! This is amazing - " he abruptly paused and jerked back in shock as his mind slowly caught up with the final piece of Buffy's news. "Wait, what? Could we rewind a bit? Please."

Buffy's lips twitched, amused by Remus' reaction, though she was also worried how that reaction would changed once he processed everything. She knew it was likely he would become at least somewhat frantic, if not straight-out upset, eventually. "I'm pregnant," she repeated. "Almost twelve weeks." She bit her lip as Remus only stared at her, and then, his gaze slowly travelled downwards until it reached her stomach. It still looked flat, but as she placed a palm against it, she could swear there was a slight curve she hadn't noticed before. But perhaps it was only her imagination. "Remus? Say something. Please."

Remus' head snapped up and he stepped forwards, pulling her into an embrace. "I don't know what to say." Buffy tensed, preparing herself for the freak-out, or worse, denial. But it didn't come. "I'm...I'm happy, Buffy." Buffy pulled away, looking up at his face with an astonished expression. She found only love and honesty there. And in the back of her mind, she only found an overwhelming amount of elation coming from her husband. Oh, there was some fear there too, but it was so small of an amount... "I won't say I'm not scared, because I am, but Buffy...I could never be upset about this. It's...our child. We're having a baby." He began to smile. "I'm...frankly, I'm kind of ecstatic."

Buffy grinned. "I can tell," she said and tapped the side of her head.

Remus chuckled. "And I can tell you were worried how I'd react."

Buffy smiled sheepishly and Remus gave her a long, intense kiss. "We have to celebrate," he said. "Your Healer's certificate too, of course, but we're having a baby! I think that deserves some cake. Chocolate!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Do we even have any chocolate left in the house? You go through it like crazy."

Remus shrugged. "I'll just head down to the village and buy some more." He gave her another knee-weakening kiss before he began to head out. "Don't go anywhere!"

Buffy laughed. "Where would I possibly go?" she called after him, and then let out a content sigh, sinking down into an armchair happily, a hand still pressed against her belly. She smiled.


Outside time

The Fates were worried. Seven of them, those of the highest rank within the Powers That Be stood gathered around the well of sight, which allowed them to see what was going on within the worlds. Currently, its view was settled on a very particular dimension, one that was the cause of all the worry: the First had emerged there with barely a warning and was now wreaking chaos, its focus settled on the Sunnydale Hellmouth.

Because of the instability left after Glory's quest for the Key, the Powers' hold on the dimensional balance had slipped while they were repairing the damage. It had been brief, but it had been enough for the First to surface. This was what had the Fates troubled. Rather than to stand at an even level, the scales were tipped greatly in favour of evil. And the forces of good, the Slayer and her friends were not enough to tip it back.

While Faith Lehane was an excellent Slayer, worthy of the power, she lacked the experience and the mental strength it would take to push the First and its army back into submission. She was too uncertain of herself and her own abilities, a remnant from her lonely childhood and the losses in her life. And that Faith's friends doubted her abilities as well did not help.

Perhaps, if she had something to hold on to, something to fight for, someone to push her forwards...but alas, she did not. Perhaps, if the Key had still been in its human form and by Faith's side, it would be different. But the Key was gone, turned back into intangible energy. And with its disappearance from the Earthly plane, the memories that had been planted and caused the Slayer to protect it had faded.

While that had made it easier for Faith to move on after the Key's disappearance, not allowing her to fall into despairing grief, it also meant the lessons learnt from them were gone also. Now, the girl called Dawn was nothing but a very distant dream, not enough of an influence on the Slayer and her friends to affect the outcome of the approaching Apocalypse.

The forces of good were doomed to failure, unless nothing could be changed to give them a better fighting chance. After a long, intense session, the Fates had decided that this time, they had to interfere, or all would be lost. Another champion of good had to be sent to Sunnydale in order to even the odds. Everyone agreed on this – what could not be agreed on, was who would be sent. Finally, a decision had been made, and it was this decision that had another Fate stand a few feet away from the well, displeasure glowing from its ethereal form.

For they had decided to send Buffy Summers.

This young Fate had played a great part in her life by setting it, albeit accidentally, on its current course. It had been his actions that had taken her from her home dimension and to the dimension she now existed. And even though the Powers were supposed to be neutral in all things, he had grown rather emotionally attached to her. When she felt joy, he felt joy. When she grieved, he grieved.

Especially the last couple of years in the Slayers life had been filled with suffering, but now, things were beginning to look up. Buffy Summers was, after all, not alone – she had a soulmate. That the Fates were now planning to rip the two apart just to serve their whim was unfair, to say the least. Yes, she was probably the champion with the biggest chance to win over the First, and yes, the growth and maturity she had gone through during the war against Voldemort would be invaluable against it. But that did not give the Powers the right to use her like a pawn.

He had been the only Fate that had argued for Buffy Summers happiness, for letting her stay undisturbed in the world where she had finally made a home. But he had been ignored. He had then tried to convince the other Fates to take not only Buffy Summers, but Remus Lupin as well – at least that way, they could still be together. But he had been met with loud protests: to send one across dimensions was risky enough, to send two was inconceivable, even if Remus Lupin had made the journey before. But then, it had not been intentional, but due to Glory's reckless actions. And Remus Lupin did not belong in that world, while Buffy Summers at least originated from it.

The young Fate had then pointed out that after all they had done to send her back to the Wizarding World, to return her to Sunnydale once again was unreasonable: after all, the Fates themselves had decreed the Wizarding World was her home now, not Sunnydale. But he had again been rebuffed. Circumstances were much different then, and the desperate times demanded desperate actions. Their word had been final, and that was why the seven most powerful Fates now stood around the well.

As their spiritual fingers dipped into the well, it began to glow, almost blinding the young Fate. A small gap between the worlds, enough for only one person's travel opened – two portals formed, one outside a house on Revello Drive, Sunnydale, and the other inside a cottage in Kent, Britain.

The young Fate closed its eyes in resignation of the new, lonely and unfair course Buffy Summers' life was about to take.

The road was set.


17 December, 1981

A smile played around Buffy's lips where she sat, rubbing her stomach absently, her eyes closed, as she waited for Remus to come back. She didn't know why she had been so worried. Abruptly, he smile slipped from her face as she felt the floor begin to tremble and she jerked upright, quickly getting to her feet. "No..." she whispered, shaking her head in denial. She recognised this feeling. "They promised..."

The entire house was shaking now. Ornaments around the room fell from their places on the walls and shelves. In the cracks left by the floorboards, blue glowed, its light streaming up even as the cracks grew larger and larger, breaking the floor apart, along with the earth. "No..."

Finally, Buffy tried to move, but found herself unable to do so: some force was holding her in place. "No!" The Slayer began to actively struggle. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO!" she screamed, lifting her head upwards. "YOU BASTARDS! YOU SAID THIS WAS MY HOME NOW! YOU PROMISED..." She was suddenly forced to her knees by an overwhelming pressure against her back, and she was forced to close her eyes against the blinding light of the portal, even as she resolutely tried to move away from it.

"BUFFY!"

Buffy's eyes shot open at her husband's call. Remus stood in the doorway, looking out of breath and horrified - it was clear he had begun to run the moment he saw the house shaking in the distance - a shopping bag hazardously discarded by his feet.

"Remus..."

Remus was moving towards her, one arm outstretched, his other holding on tightly to the doorframe. Buffy reached out for him with both her hands, straining, reaching - their fingers almost touched - and then, the portal was sucking her in. The last thing she saw and heard before the world started spinning, her vision filled with blinding, crackling light was Remus throwing himself towards the portal to follow her - too late - and his anguished cry of rage and denial.

'I'm sorry...'


17 December, 2002

Faith, her face badly bruised and bloody, sat outside on the porch of 1630 Revello Drive, trying to desperately light a cigarette with a trembling hand. The windows to the house were closed, but with her Slayer senses, she could quite clearly hear the voices of the people gathered in the dining room:

"...We could make plans as we always do, but the truth is, Faith was our plan. There is no back up," Giles could be heard saying.

"We could call Angel," Wesley could be heard suggesting. Faith's lips twitched despite herself: she could almost see the expressions on the other's faces in her mind's eye at that suggestion.

"Ask Deadboy? I don't think so," Xander muttered predictably. "He would just gloat."

"We could use all the help we can get," Wesley said firmly. "To let pride get in the way is foolish. And he did come to our aid when we were up against Glory – "

" – And what a great help he was," Xander said sarcastically. "Look, I'm not saying he would be useless, but we're up against the First. If what Faith told us about it is true, the last time, it almost got Angel to kill himself. Well, kill him more. And it made Spike go nuts for awhile. Let's not feed the First - clearly, it's quite easy for it control vamps with souls."

"Xan's got a point," Anya said. "And what we're up against... Well, you saw Faith – she's beaten up like a rag-doll. Plain old strength is not going to cut it this time."

Outside, Faith flinched. "Giles, she looks bad," she could hear Willow whisper. "Really bad. What do we do if she can't fight? If she can't beat this thing?"

Suddenly, the ground beneath Faith's feet began to tremble – not by much, but enough to make her notice. Slowly, she stood up, putting out her cigarette. Her eyes widened when a blue vortex slowly began to take shape a couple of feet above her. A portal. Despite the fact her muscles were aching, that she was probably bleeding internally, Faith took up a fighting stance. If this was another part of the First's arsenal...

Suddenly, someone fell out, crumbling to the ground and Faith's stance immediately grew slack in shock and recognition. "Buffy?" The portal had already closed, but Faith barely noticed as she stepped forward, kneeling by her sister Slayer. The terror and despair that had been filling her ever since her encounter with that uber-strong super-vampire began to be replaced by something else: hope.

She and Buffy, while they had had a rocky start, had grown quite close during the other's visit to Sunnydale, and Faith had been sad to see her go. But now, she was back. She wasn't alone anymore. Two Slayers to bear the burden, two Slayers to fight the First. It wouldn't know what hit it.

The Scoobies were running out on the porch now, words of exclamation and surprise escaping them when they noticed the blonde Slayer. They all surrounded her and Faith, large smiles of welcome on their faces.

Those smiles abruptly disappeared, however, when Buffy took one look at them all and burst out crying.


20 December, 1981

In a magical dwelling called the Burrow, on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, Molly Weasley let out a terrified scream when she found a small grey rat with long bald tail sleeping in her pantry while she was in the middle of Christmas preparations. The rat woke up with a loud squeak, looking terrified and only barely managed to avoid the frying pan the woman tried to hit him with.

"What is it, Molly?" a thin man dressed in long shabby robes asked, and the rat squeezed himself further back into a dark corner of a shelf.

"A RAT! In my pantry! Oh, Arthur, get rid of it!" Molly exclaimed, clutching at the man's – Arthur's – shirt.

"Oh, can I see?" a five-year-old boy piped up. Squeezing himself in between the two adults, he stood on his tiptoes to try and catch a sight of the rat, his blue eyes blinking curiously behind a pair of glasses. "Oh, mum, can't I keep him, please?"

"No, Percy," Molly said sternly.

"But Bill has an owl!"

"Errol is our family owl, Percy and you know that," Arthur said, patting Percy's shoulder.

Percy pouted. "I never get anything - I hate being poor!" He grumbled. "Mum, pleeeease? Pretty please?" Inside the rat, a small glimmer of hope began to rise. To be kept as a pet…

The rat – better known as Wormtail to some, and Peter Pettigrew when he was in his normal, human form – knew that even though he had managed to trick Sirius, it didn't mean he was safe. If it got out he was alive, the Ministry would be after him for answers. And since it was he who had told of the Dark Lord of the Potters' address, the Death Eaters would doubtlessly hold him responsible for the Dark Lord's downfall and would try to seek revenge.

A life as a household-pet sounded like a very fine and safe prospect for him, especially after spending the last month on the run, out in the cold, scavenging food out of trash to survive while desperately trying to avoid predators. And this was clearly a wizarding family…with red-hair…hmm…red hair meant the Weasleys!

The rat's hopes rose even further as he realised living here meant easy access to important wizarding news. And the Weasleys were tight with Dumbledore – which meant a chance of overhearing sensitive information that might save his life if he should ever be caught by the Death Eaters who had escaped justice.

The rat tried to make himself look as small and harmless as possible when he saw the woman – Mrs. Weasley – glance at him again, shuddering slightly. "It might have deceases…"

"No!" Percy protested. "Look at him! He's all soft and thin and small and helpless!"

"Perhaps it will be alright for Percy to keep it, Molly," Arthur said carefully. Molly took another look at the rat, and let out a loud sigh in agreement.

"Fine, Percy, you can keep the rat. But you will have to feed it yourself. And give it a bath, and for Merlin's sake keep it away from our food!"

"Yes!" Percy exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing the rat in both hands. "I'm going to call you Scabbers."

Peter's nose twitched as he mulled the name over in his head. Scabbers? He could live with that…


31 December

It was New Years Eve, but Remus saw no reason to celebrate. Buffy had been gone for two weeks and he had no idea when she would come back. If she even could come back... This was not how he had seen their future. How had it unravelled so quickly? Both of them had been so happy, ready to celebrate Buffy's pregnancy... And now it was highly possible that Remus would never even get to see their child. Why had he gone down to the stupid village anyway? If he'd been there, he could have stopped her from being forced to leave, or gone with her... But Buffy was gone, and he was here, alone... she was out of his reach... And so was Harry.

On Christmas day, Remus had gone to visit Harry at his relatives' place in Surrey, with a Christmas gift and to see how he was doing. However, he'd only just appeared on the street when Dumbledore had showed up, alerted to his presence by the wards around Privet Drive.

The Headmaster had made it quite clear that Remus was not to approach Harry again, that the boy should live 'a normal life' for as long as possible, with interference from the wizarding world - including gifts and letters. A mail ward had been erected around the property so the saviour of the wizarding world would not be disturbed by 'fans.'

He'd told Remus that Harry was safe at his new home, that the blood wards erected by Lily's sacrifice would keep anyone who meant him harm out. He'd also told Remus about a specific ward set up by the Ministry which prevented any werewolves and other dark creatures from stepping foot on the property - if Remus tried, he'd be forcefully, and painfully ejected. The same would happen to Buffy if she ever returned, since the Slayer's powers were based on the essence of a demon, which would be enough to activate the ward.

Dejected, and knowing the battle was lost before it had even begun, Remus had left, leaving the gift in Dumbledore's hands, with the Headmaster's promise that he would give it to Petunia to give to Harry.

Just as Buffy and his unborn child, and Harry were out of his reach, so was his little sister, Elizabeth. The Baddocks, the family which had taken her in, lived in a huge stone mansion, also heavily warded which made it impossible for Remus to approach it and any letters would certainly be stopped by Elizabeth's parents before they could reach her. He'd lost everyone he cared about, except possibly one: Jasper Thorne, the young werewolf Remus had helped get out of Greyback's pack, who had then been adopted by the Lowells, Samantha's family. They now lived in Australia...

For a moment or two, Remus entertained the thought of moving there - but it left as quickly as it came. He had to stay in Britain, in this cottage. If Buffy returned, she would return from the place she'd left - here.

Remus glanced down at the griffin figurine that he held in his hand, the small glass ornament pulsing slightly with a white light where its heart would have been if the griffin had been real. With their mental bond gone, this was the only way Remus could see what Buffy was feeling, and he thanked Merlin that Buffy had for some reason been carrying her wolf figurine with her when she fell into the portal. But he couldn't help but wonder how long the charm work would last, with the great distance between them: the white colour, which indicated Buffy was feeling frustrated, should have been clear and bright, but instead, it was dull and cloudy.

He glanced out of the window when he heard the sound of fireworks, staring at the colourful show being sent up above the village. Then, he glanced back down at the small glass griffin. The colour had now turned a faded, murky black. Buffy was tense and angry. "Happy New Year," he muttered sarcastically at it, squeezing it in his hand, knowing that, even though they were parted by dimensions, he and Buffy felt the same way.


31 December, 2002

Buffy sat outside on the stairs of Revello Drive, staring up at the night sky. The inhabitants of Sunnydale were already filling it with fireworks, but Buffy felt no joy in watching. Inside the house, the Scoobies and the Potentials that had arrived were having their own celebration - even with the threat from the First hanging over them, they were determined to try to relax and have fun.

With a frown, Buffy remembered her arrival to Sunnydale two weeks ago, and the explanation of the threat the First posed to them and to humanity. They'd been so relieved - Faith especially - to have her arrive, and Buffy wished she could share their enthusiasm. Buffy was sure that, had she been given more time, Faith would have worked things out without her. As it was, to Buffy, it felt a bit like she'd 'dethroned' Faith from her rightful spot by coming here. If she had been in Faith's shoes, Buffy was sure she would have been at least a little put out by the Powers apparent lack of belief in her: by being sent backup in the form of another Slayer, how could one interpret it any other way?

Luckily enough, Faith hadn't felt that way. The First was the most dangerous enemy Faith ever had to face, and when Buffy had gotten back, Faith had been at her lowest point, beaten down, and all she'd felt was relief that she no longer had to carry the burden of being the 'leader,' the one everyone counted on to 'fix things,' alone.

Buffy admitted that she'd been of some help: things had gotten off to a great start, when she'd almost immediately realised that one of the Potential Slayers was really the First, thanks to her spider-sense going crazy. This had immediately earned her the trust and admiration from the rest of the Potentials, despite her pregnant state – well, from everyone except a bratty potential called Kennedy, who seemed to believe she was in charge, and another one called Rona, who did little besides complain.

But as much as she disliked Kennedy for pointing out that her pregnancy made her more of a liability than help, Buffy also couldn't help but feel she had a point: it wasn't like she'd be able to add any muscle for long, not unless she wanted to put her child's life at risk, which she definitely didn't: Buffy already loved her child, more than anything else.

She pressed a hand gently against her abdomen, which seemed to swell more every day, proof that the life she and Remus had created was healthy and growing. No matter what, Buffy knew she would put her child's well-being first, which only added to her doubt that she'd be of any help in the battle: the Scoobies needed her head in the game, but all Buffy could think about what was she had left behind. How long would she be stuck here, separated from Remus, her husband? Separated from her child's father? Buffy didn't even know whether he or she would ever get to meet him.

Carefully, Buffy reached into her pocket with her other hand and pulled out the wolf figurine made of glass that she kept there, a gift from Remus on her eighteenth birthday, and still among her most treasured possessions. Its colour was currently a faded bronze, indicating Remus felt restless. She'd forgotten she'd taken it with her when she'd gone to St. Mungo's for work, knowing what she was going to ask Marion, and wanting the comforting presence the figurine represented. Even with Remus' emotions in the back of her head, the wolf had been something physical to hold on to while she waited to find out whether or not she was pregnant.

As she hadn't taken it out of her pocket when she'd gotten home, it had come with her through the portal. Buffy was extremely grateful it hadn't shattered during her trip, and, unlike during her other visit to Sunnydale, she actually had her wand with her this time. So perhaps she wouldn't be completely useless, but she still didn't know what the Fates - and it must have been the Fates who sent her here - had been thinking. She'd been happy, damn it! They'd promised she would not have to leave the wizarding world again, once she chose it, and Remus. So much for that promise, she supposed.

She'd always known Fate was a bitch.

Glancing down at the wolf figurine again, Buffy smiled humourlessly when the colour changed to a cloudy black. The colours, albeit somewhat weakened due to distance, should have been comforting. Even when there were dimensions between them, Remus' charm work held, as proof of the strength of their love. Instead, it only served to remind Buffy of how huge that distance was, and how the life they could have had together had slipped through their fingers, just when she thought they had it in their grasp. She feared that their child would only know its father through memories, and memories faded with time, just like the colours had on the wolf figurine. She didn't want to forget Remus. The very thought of it terrified her.

"Happy New Year, my ass," Buffy muttered.


Published: 23/12 -12


Trivia

- A wrapper of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum is what Alice gives Neville whenever he comes to visit her and Frank at St. Mungo's. While J.K. Rowling has said that does not hold any special significance, I decided to make it more poignant by having her last 'sane' moments involve such a wrapper, as well as the gum being the final happy moment she shared with her son. As such, her giving such wrappers to Neville, to me, signifies Alice trying to emotionally connect to him in the only way she remembers.

- We all know of the problems Neville has with his memory in canon, especially during the first few books. Here, the memory-charm I had applied to him was me attempting to give that an underlying 'reason' which would also explain why those issues disappear later on in the series, though obviously, the confidence he finds due to Harry and Dumbledore's army may also have played a large part. In any case, I don't find it unlike an 'obliviate' would have been cast on Neville if he really did witness his parents being tortured.

- Newhaven is a town in East Sussex, on the coast of the English Channel, and is a ferry port for services to France.

- The episode Buffy (Faith here) is beat up by the Bringer is the tenth episode of the seventh season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and while in canon, Buffy walks inside and interrupts the Scoobies meeting with new determination, here, Faith stays outside and the interruption comes instead in the form of Buffy coming from the portal, giving them new hope.

- " – And what a great help he was," Xander said sarcastically. "Look, I'm not saying he would be useless, but we're up against the First. If what Faith told us about it is true, the last time, it almost got Angel to kill himself. Well, kill him more. And it made Spike go nuts for awhile. Let's not feed the First - clearly, it's quite easy for it control vamps with souls." – Xander refers to episode 3x10: Amends, in which we make our first acquaintance with the First (though in canon, Buffy obviously has the place Faith now occupies in the series, minus the romantic aspects), as well as several episodes in s. 7 where Spike was killing again due to its influence.

- Remus and Buffy's griffin and wolf figurines are first mentioned in Road of Innocence chapter 21.

- The Death Eater trials/names of the Death Eaters referred to in this chapter can partly be found in/are also mentioned in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire/Order of the Phoenix/Half-Blood Prince.

- Considering Harry had no idea he was a wizard and had not gotten any letters of any kind, despite his obvious fame post the first war, a mail-ward of some kind was the only thing that made sense. That same ward, as well as other restrictions, would also account for him not hearing anything from his parents' old friends, like Remus, until much later in his life.