1 Lily, the Vampire Slayer
Author's Note: Kinda left everyone hanging there!!! Mwahahaha!!! I've noticed that I'm really bad at writing scenes with the Marauders. It's kinda stiff and really doesn't sit well with me. I should improve that but I guess I'm too scared of ruining those characters.
I like Peter, so, I'm making him nice here. Waaaaaaaahh!!! My brother says that I really can't write conversational pieces between other characters if Lily's not in it!
I hate you!!! You try writing these for once!!! No, nevermind! You'll just ruin these!!! So back off!!!
Chapter Ten
She clenched her fists as she felt his putrid breath on her neck. She shut her eyes, feeling his disgusting spittle land on her face. She sensed his fanged mouth near her throat and she heard the boys' gasps. She heard someone call out her name before Ezekiel finally sank his miasmatic incisors into her gullet.
Her eyes flew open due to the pain and tears clouded her vision as she heard the revolting sound of her life's blood being sucked out of her very being.
They say that when you die, sudden flashes of the most important aspects of your life display themselves in the last vestiges of your consciousness.
It was true.
Her visions were of her family, her mother, father and Petunia. And of their love.
She could feel herself dying.
Knew she was giving up, the one thing she thought she would never do in her entire life. Her thoughts then tuned in to one specific face. Ernie's.
God, she couldn't leave him. Not like this. Never like this. She couldn't leave him, make him believe she gave up because she couldn't suffocate the feelings that threatened to spill out of her in the form of her tears.
She couldn't make him believe that she failed him. Gave up on him and his teachings.
And most of all lead him to believe that she gave up on herself.
No, she wouldn't give up on herself, most of all; she would never give up on her Ernie.
With all her remaining strength, she whipped out the stake which she had safely tucked away in her back pocket, raised it above Ezekiel's back and slammed it down onto his unpulsating heart.
She heard him gasp and scream. She watched in hazy dimness as he turned to dust.
And that was when she lost consciousness.
*************************************************************** ***********************
The moment Ezekiel had been sent back to hell, the kaleidoscopic dome above the Slayer had absorbed the vampire's remains, tinting it a brighter red. It continued to spin itself smaller and smaller until it just barely touched Lily Evan's unmoving form. Then, in a flash of hot blue light, the dome assimilated itself into the Slayer, making her glow a motley of colors before dissipating as if it had never existed.
*************************************************************** ***********************
The Marauders rushed to the Slayer's still form, checking for a pulse.
Remus rested his ear above her heart, checking her heart beat.
It was, albeit irregular. Slow and faint.
Sirius held his hand over her nose, seeing if she was breathing.
She wasn't.
His eyes widened and informed everyone of it.
Samantha, who was catching her breath for the ceremony had taken a lot out of her, hurried up to them. She shooed them away and held her hand over the grotesque bite mark which indented itself on the Slayer's now more than pale skin.
She closed her eyes, manipulating what little power and control she had over the great river of ancient magick that had miraculously survived the passing generations and concentrated all her energy on channeling the primal source to her own being and healing the Slayer's wounds. She felt the power build up from within her and she set it free, casting it into her hands and forcing it to direct itself upon the Slayer.
Bluish-white twinkling lights shone from her hands and miraculously, the two deep holes and teeth marks disappeared. She her eyes flew open and she noticed that the Slayer still hadn't awoken, her skin still pale and icy cold due to blood loss.
She concentrated even harder but to no avail. The Slayer still lay unmoving and unbreathing.
She grunted in frustration, made a fist and rammed it hard into the soft earth. She looked up at the boys.
"I can not heal her. The demon has taken much of her blood. My powers are too weak to bring her back to consciousness. She is, right now, walking the fine line between life and death. I cannot save her."
They stared at her in a mixture of sorrow, shock, fear and desperation.
They didn't think that death would be part of the bargain when they agreed to the Slayer's compromise.
"Can you…, do you, know who can,… er, save her?" Remus stuttered.
Samantha nodded timidly, gazing at the Slayer with regret and guilt in her eyes.
"Yes, my coven, our collective power will be more than enough to restore the Slayer. But we need to hurry. Her life is quickly ebbing away as we speak. I may have to ask one of you to carry her."
Sirius stared at Lily's body and started to go green. He covered his mouth with one hand and turned around. Remus gave him a pat on the back and watched as James sighed and bent down to carry Lily's body.
Samantha thanked him and ordered, "Please stand close to me."
Everyone did and she asked them to hold her arms. Remus, Sirius and Peter on one side while she clamped a hand on James forearm with the other. She let her powers take control once more.
Sparkling blue light surrounded their group and they disappeared from the cemetery, leaving only serene chimes in their passing.
*************************************************************** ***********************
A deep rocky crevice interrupted the smoothness of the ground before her. She stared at it with glazed eyes and was mesmerized by the beauty of the molten lake beneath. The red, hot, bubbling flames lapped up the sides, as if trying to reach her.
She gazed at the natural beauty for a moment then studied her surroundings. A broken down rope bridge stood to her left while a robed form stood across her, near the bridge posts.
She hadn't noticed it before and cautiously studied the figure. As she did this, another figure neared the first, and judging by its walk, the newer figure was female.
She was quite sure the first was a male and he stood a few feet taller than the female.
She stared at them curiously, squinting.
Who were they?
More importantly, what did they want?
She blinked rapidly as she felt her inquisitive glances being returned.
Then it hit her.
Where was she?
She had no memory of when she had arrived and where she had first landed, had no memory of existing in another locale other than the environment she was in, but she had a gut feeling that she must have had lived in some other place.
But she couldn't have been sure about that fact.
She wasn't even sure if she was alive.
She couldn't recall of anything past journeying through this vast and molten wasteland.
But she figured that she must have been a warrior in some other life, in some other time.
She knew this for she was aware of every single detail around her.
The pulpous sound of the bubbling lava as it softly burst and run its course down the crimson stream, which was as bright as the sun.
She could sense every tiny movement the hooded figures in front of her made, from the tiniest shuffle to the calmest breath intake.
She felt connected to every single thing around her, like a part of everything yet knowing of nothing.
She had guessed that she was a witch, if not, a being of immense magickal capabilities, for she somehow knew, though she had no knowledge as to how, that only beings with such power could feel so connected to their surroundings.
Though she thought of this, she could not surmise as to why she believed herself to be warrior.
With her curiously small build, she could not speculate herself to be something other than a young girl.
But no. She knew that her build was a mere façade, but who she thought it was to fool, she did not know.
And as to why.
The immense power she felt coursing through her blood and veins was intoxicating.
Like a strong drug.
She felt her slight fear of crossing the bridge disappear and replace itself with pride, an immense amount of pride.
One hand reached up to a post and it encircled around the beautiful, though crumbling carvings.
She gripped it tightly and let out an anxious breath.
She heard something splinter and a slight amount of pain in her palm.
Her eyes moved up to the tiny hand that now grasped part of a broken column.
She gasped and dropped the delicate object into the boiling river below out of shock.
She was mesmerized by the way the uncontrollable force of nature destroyed the man-made material as if it were nothing.
She then gazed dazily at her palm and noticed a few minor but bleeding scars. She studied them, as if seeing blood for the first time and gasped as she saw them healing rapidly.
In the next second, they were gone, leaving no mark.
She had some knowledge about her past that healing did not go as quick as it had.
And strength did not come as easily as it did to her.
What was she?
More importantly, who was she?
**************************************************************************** **********
They had landed right smack in the middle of Samantha's coven meeting.
The four boys had gathered around Lily's body while Samantha had approached the leader of the group and was discussing something with him.
They couldn't hear them, though it didn't matter, for they were probably conversing in another language.
James bent quite close to Lily's unmoving form quite closely and somewhat possessively.
He brushed a few stray strands of crimson hair off of her angelic face and just stared at her peaceful beauty.
Remus looked on, smiling as James unconsciously caressed the Slayer's pale face.
It was a beautiful, peaceful and most tender moment. It seemed like a very private moment. And the smile that was plastered on the werewolf's face steadily grew.
Peter tapped his shoulder, causing his unnoticed invasion of the presumably personal moment to acknowledge his companion.
"Yes, Peter?"
"Um," Peter fidgeted, giving Remus a repulsed expression. "I think Sirius might throw up."
They both turned towards Padfoot who looked very green and was clutching his stomach.
"Ugh, I see."
Peter nodded in disdain.
They both knew Sirius was afraid of dead bodies. Not that they thought Lily was dead, no, she was just in a coma, they hoped.
But it was close enough for Sirius.
And the hooded observers didn't help very much.
"Padfoot, are you alright?" Remus asked, concerned.
He turned to face them, grunting wearily as she held a hand over his mouth.
"I feel rather faint."
"Are you sure you won't throw-up?" Peter asked straightforwardly.
Sirius eyes unfocused for a moment or two and Peter shrieked, "Yuck!"
"Peter! Show some more compassion!" Remus scolded.
Sirius wasn't paying attention as he collapsed, faint.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Remus groaned.
Peter bent down and cautiously poked Padfoot's side.
"Yep! He's out cold!" he confirmed.
"Well, thank you for that very informative account!"
"You're welcome!"
**************************************************************************** **********
"Please!" Samantha begged. "You must help her!"
Her elder shook his head. "You know better than to associate yourself with her kind!"
"Yes, but please, Morwen," she looked up at him pleadingly. "She needed my help. It would do her and this world a great disservice should I have rejected her plea of aid. I beg of you! Help her! Her life is slowly ebbing away!"
Samantha felt weak. The ritual she had performed had taken quite a lot out of her and she could barely stand. And using her orbing abilities and taking five others had weakened her considerably.
And now her elder was conducting a fierce investigation and she was the detained.
Her strength and energy was ebbing away from her as she spoke, pleaded, with Morwen.
Her coven strongly believed in minding their own business, never interfering with others.
Though, these disciplines and rules were never quite properly instilled in her, for she was young and as they say, strong-willed.
But she knew that her people would never stand by and watch a moral and upright being die.
"What do you know of this particular Slayer? Why are you so intent on saving her?"
Morwen was not trying to be evil; he was just questioning her intentions and the Slayer's.
Samantha could not answer. He was right. She had known nothing of this Slayer when they had first crossed paths. She knew nothing of this Slayer still.
Then an answer dawned on her. "This Slayer is a good person. I should know. My powers would have warned me."
Morwen, pleased at her quick thinking, he offered a paternal smile as he complied.
"Well, then, since they are surely never wrong, we shall save her."
"Thank you," Samantha couldn't resist the urge to hug him. "I shall tell her friends."
**************************************************************************** **********
"Look, Samantha's coming," Peter pointed out to Remus who was on the ground trying to roll Sirius form right-side up, so he could breathe more properly.
Samantha hovered over them; silent, but they could hear her labored gasps, trying to breathe.
"Well," Peter asked anxiously.
Samantha nodded. "Yes, they shall be able to save her."
Held back breaths were released as Remus and Peter showed their relief.
Remus approached James and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"She'll be all right. You should let them take over."
James looked up at five hooded figures lingering over the Slayer's body and reluctantly let go of his iron grasp on Lily's hand.
He stood and looked on as the robed forms carefully lifted the tiny girl into their arms and carried her off into the middle of their circle.
"We should go so as to not disturb the ritual," Samantha spoke up timidly.
They followed her towards her house with James and Peter carrying Sirius' limp body.
Remus and James took notice of Samantha's weariness due to the fact that she constantly paused to take in deep ragged breaths.
"Are you all right?" James grunted, groaning under Sirius weight.
Samantha nodded as she leaned on a tree.
"Are you quite sure?" Remus looked her straight in the eye.
Samantha nodded once more and that was when she collapsed right into Remus' arms.
**************************************************************************** **********
The ritual needed grueling preparation; both of the mind and soul, years of immense expertise and arduous concentration.
To proceed with this ancient and highly complicated ritual, the coven uttered a chant to prime themselves for the task ahead.
Their different voices steadily rose from a slow whisper from Morwen which worked itself into an intense fervor as they steadily added their own voices to form a soft, melodic albeit haunting medley.
The words were neither important nor a necessity, but it aided in the group's concentration as they bound their and souls and gathered their strengths.
The ritual had only been cast once, a century ago, as to why, the ancient scriptures did not say. It had been successful though many of the performers were drained, their powers never returning to their original state.
The risks of death and loss of power would have to be taken for the innocent before them was a Vampire Slayer, without her in this world; death and destruction were imminent.
The ceremony would have been easier if one of their own, Samantha, were present.
Her magickal capabilities were direly needed to ensure the spell's success.
But Morwen had sent her to keep the Slayer's companions away from the location as to where the ceremony was to be performed.
They would lead to disruptions in the collective consciousness of the coven.
Samantha's healing powers were to be helpful since they-she-would be the focusing crystal that was to be needed in order to properly call upon the flowing source of magick.
She was the only one of them with such power and such upbringing.
The only one with whitelighter's blood in her veins.
But she was under great strain, the coven, especially Morwen could sense the exertion in her bearings. The way that she had held herself, which seemed seemingly effortless, was masking away the weariness she truly felt.
Now, they were to unearth a ritual that was centuries old with multiple hazards to save a warrior who was so close to her end that a part-angel couldn't save.
But collective calls to the source of magick were usually answered and had more power than one Wicca.
So, here they were, trying to save a person they barely knew, placing their lives on the line, knowing that the Slayer had, too, to fight an inner battle herself, a war they could not see. And only then will they be able to save her.
The Gods help them.
**************************************************************************** **********
A/N: That was a short one. Sorry. I had stupid writer's block right in the middle of writing this story. Dammit!
I'll try to get this out by finishing one of my other stories, hopefully this'll be gone by next week.
And, oh, yeah; REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW
Thanks!!!! To all those who reviewed! Yay! I got over a hundred!!! Yay!!! *Pops open a champagne bottle*
Author's Note: Kinda left everyone hanging there!!! Mwahahaha!!! I've noticed that I'm really bad at writing scenes with the Marauders. It's kinda stiff and really doesn't sit well with me. I should improve that but I guess I'm too scared of ruining those characters.
I like Peter, so, I'm making him nice here. Waaaaaaaahh!!! My brother says that I really can't write conversational pieces between other characters if Lily's not in it!
I hate you!!! You try writing these for once!!! No, nevermind! You'll just ruin these!!! So back off!!!
Chapter Ten
She clenched her fists as she felt his putrid breath on her neck. She shut her eyes, feeling his disgusting spittle land on her face. She sensed his fanged mouth near her throat and she heard the boys' gasps. She heard someone call out her name before Ezekiel finally sank his miasmatic incisors into her gullet.
Her eyes flew open due to the pain and tears clouded her vision as she heard the revolting sound of her life's blood being sucked out of her very being.
They say that when you die, sudden flashes of the most important aspects of your life display themselves in the last vestiges of your consciousness.
It was true.
Her visions were of her family, her mother, father and Petunia. And of their love.
She could feel herself dying.
Knew she was giving up, the one thing she thought she would never do in her entire life. Her thoughts then tuned in to one specific face. Ernie's.
God, she couldn't leave him. Not like this. Never like this. She couldn't leave him, make him believe she gave up because she couldn't suffocate the feelings that threatened to spill out of her in the form of her tears.
She couldn't make him believe that she failed him. Gave up on him and his teachings.
And most of all lead him to believe that she gave up on herself.
No, she wouldn't give up on herself, most of all; she would never give up on her Ernie.
With all her remaining strength, she whipped out the stake which she had safely tucked away in her back pocket, raised it above Ezekiel's back and slammed it down onto his unpulsating heart.
She heard him gasp and scream. She watched in hazy dimness as he turned to dust.
And that was when she lost consciousness.
*************************************************************** ***********************
The moment Ezekiel had been sent back to hell, the kaleidoscopic dome above the Slayer had absorbed the vampire's remains, tinting it a brighter red. It continued to spin itself smaller and smaller until it just barely touched Lily Evan's unmoving form. Then, in a flash of hot blue light, the dome assimilated itself into the Slayer, making her glow a motley of colors before dissipating as if it had never existed.
*************************************************************** ***********************
The Marauders rushed to the Slayer's still form, checking for a pulse.
Remus rested his ear above her heart, checking her heart beat.
It was, albeit irregular. Slow and faint.
Sirius held his hand over her nose, seeing if she was breathing.
She wasn't.
His eyes widened and informed everyone of it.
Samantha, who was catching her breath for the ceremony had taken a lot out of her, hurried up to them. She shooed them away and held her hand over the grotesque bite mark which indented itself on the Slayer's now more than pale skin.
She closed her eyes, manipulating what little power and control she had over the great river of ancient magick that had miraculously survived the passing generations and concentrated all her energy on channeling the primal source to her own being and healing the Slayer's wounds. She felt the power build up from within her and she set it free, casting it into her hands and forcing it to direct itself upon the Slayer.
Bluish-white twinkling lights shone from her hands and miraculously, the two deep holes and teeth marks disappeared. She her eyes flew open and she noticed that the Slayer still hadn't awoken, her skin still pale and icy cold due to blood loss.
She concentrated even harder but to no avail. The Slayer still lay unmoving and unbreathing.
She grunted in frustration, made a fist and rammed it hard into the soft earth. She looked up at the boys.
"I can not heal her. The demon has taken much of her blood. My powers are too weak to bring her back to consciousness. She is, right now, walking the fine line between life and death. I cannot save her."
They stared at her in a mixture of sorrow, shock, fear and desperation.
They didn't think that death would be part of the bargain when they agreed to the Slayer's compromise.
"Can you…, do you, know who can,… er, save her?" Remus stuttered.
Samantha nodded timidly, gazing at the Slayer with regret and guilt in her eyes.
"Yes, my coven, our collective power will be more than enough to restore the Slayer. But we need to hurry. Her life is quickly ebbing away as we speak. I may have to ask one of you to carry her."
Sirius stared at Lily's body and started to go green. He covered his mouth with one hand and turned around. Remus gave him a pat on the back and watched as James sighed and bent down to carry Lily's body.
Samantha thanked him and ordered, "Please stand close to me."
Everyone did and she asked them to hold her arms. Remus, Sirius and Peter on one side while she clamped a hand on James forearm with the other. She let her powers take control once more.
Sparkling blue light surrounded their group and they disappeared from the cemetery, leaving only serene chimes in their passing.
*************************************************************** ***********************
A deep rocky crevice interrupted the smoothness of the ground before her. She stared at it with glazed eyes and was mesmerized by the beauty of the molten lake beneath. The red, hot, bubbling flames lapped up the sides, as if trying to reach her.
She gazed at the natural beauty for a moment then studied her surroundings. A broken down rope bridge stood to her left while a robed form stood across her, near the bridge posts.
She hadn't noticed it before and cautiously studied the figure. As she did this, another figure neared the first, and judging by its walk, the newer figure was female.
She was quite sure the first was a male and he stood a few feet taller than the female.
She stared at them curiously, squinting.
Who were they?
More importantly, what did they want?
She blinked rapidly as she felt her inquisitive glances being returned.
Then it hit her.
Where was she?
She had no memory of when she had arrived and where she had first landed, had no memory of existing in another locale other than the environment she was in, but she had a gut feeling that she must have had lived in some other place.
But she couldn't have been sure about that fact.
She wasn't even sure if she was alive.
She couldn't recall of anything past journeying through this vast and molten wasteland.
But she figured that she must have been a warrior in some other life, in some other time.
She knew this for she was aware of every single detail around her.
The pulpous sound of the bubbling lava as it softly burst and run its course down the crimson stream, which was as bright as the sun.
She could sense every tiny movement the hooded figures in front of her made, from the tiniest shuffle to the calmest breath intake.
She felt connected to every single thing around her, like a part of everything yet knowing of nothing.
She had guessed that she was a witch, if not, a being of immense magickal capabilities, for she somehow knew, though she had no knowledge as to how, that only beings with such power could feel so connected to their surroundings.
Though she thought of this, she could not surmise as to why she believed herself to be warrior.
With her curiously small build, she could not speculate herself to be something other than a young girl.
But no. She knew that her build was a mere façade, but who she thought it was to fool, she did not know.
And as to why.
The immense power she felt coursing through her blood and veins was intoxicating.
Like a strong drug.
She felt her slight fear of crossing the bridge disappear and replace itself with pride, an immense amount of pride.
One hand reached up to a post and it encircled around the beautiful, though crumbling carvings.
She gripped it tightly and let out an anxious breath.
She heard something splinter and a slight amount of pain in her palm.
Her eyes moved up to the tiny hand that now grasped part of a broken column.
She gasped and dropped the delicate object into the boiling river below out of shock.
She was mesmerized by the way the uncontrollable force of nature destroyed the man-made material as if it were nothing.
She then gazed dazily at her palm and noticed a few minor but bleeding scars. She studied them, as if seeing blood for the first time and gasped as she saw them healing rapidly.
In the next second, they were gone, leaving no mark.
She had some knowledge about her past that healing did not go as quick as it had.
And strength did not come as easily as it did to her.
What was she?
More importantly, who was she?
**************************************************************************** **********
They had landed right smack in the middle of Samantha's coven meeting.
The four boys had gathered around Lily's body while Samantha had approached the leader of the group and was discussing something with him.
They couldn't hear them, though it didn't matter, for they were probably conversing in another language.
James bent quite close to Lily's unmoving form quite closely and somewhat possessively.
He brushed a few stray strands of crimson hair off of her angelic face and just stared at her peaceful beauty.
Remus looked on, smiling as James unconsciously caressed the Slayer's pale face.
It was a beautiful, peaceful and most tender moment. It seemed like a very private moment. And the smile that was plastered on the werewolf's face steadily grew.
Peter tapped his shoulder, causing his unnoticed invasion of the presumably personal moment to acknowledge his companion.
"Yes, Peter?"
"Um," Peter fidgeted, giving Remus a repulsed expression. "I think Sirius might throw up."
They both turned towards Padfoot who looked very green and was clutching his stomach.
"Ugh, I see."
Peter nodded in disdain.
They both knew Sirius was afraid of dead bodies. Not that they thought Lily was dead, no, she was just in a coma, they hoped.
But it was close enough for Sirius.
And the hooded observers didn't help very much.
"Padfoot, are you alright?" Remus asked, concerned.
He turned to face them, grunting wearily as she held a hand over his mouth.
"I feel rather faint."
"Are you sure you won't throw-up?" Peter asked straightforwardly.
Sirius eyes unfocused for a moment or two and Peter shrieked, "Yuck!"
"Peter! Show some more compassion!" Remus scolded.
Sirius wasn't paying attention as he collapsed, faint.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Remus groaned.
Peter bent down and cautiously poked Padfoot's side.
"Yep! He's out cold!" he confirmed.
"Well, thank you for that very informative account!"
"You're welcome!"
**************************************************************************** **********
"Please!" Samantha begged. "You must help her!"
Her elder shook his head. "You know better than to associate yourself with her kind!"
"Yes, but please, Morwen," she looked up at him pleadingly. "She needed my help. It would do her and this world a great disservice should I have rejected her plea of aid. I beg of you! Help her! Her life is slowly ebbing away!"
Samantha felt weak. The ritual she had performed had taken quite a lot out of her and she could barely stand. And using her orbing abilities and taking five others had weakened her considerably.
And now her elder was conducting a fierce investigation and she was the detained.
Her strength and energy was ebbing away from her as she spoke, pleaded, with Morwen.
Her coven strongly believed in minding their own business, never interfering with others.
Though, these disciplines and rules were never quite properly instilled in her, for she was young and as they say, strong-willed.
But she knew that her people would never stand by and watch a moral and upright being die.
"What do you know of this particular Slayer? Why are you so intent on saving her?"
Morwen was not trying to be evil; he was just questioning her intentions and the Slayer's.
Samantha could not answer. He was right. She had known nothing of this Slayer when they had first crossed paths. She knew nothing of this Slayer still.
Then an answer dawned on her. "This Slayer is a good person. I should know. My powers would have warned me."
Morwen, pleased at her quick thinking, he offered a paternal smile as he complied.
"Well, then, since they are surely never wrong, we shall save her."
"Thank you," Samantha couldn't resist the urge to hug him. "I shall tell her friends."
**************************************************************************** **********
"Look, Samantha's coming," Peter pointed out to Remus who was on the ground trying to roll Sirius form right-side up, so he could breathe more properly.
Samantha hovered over them; silent, but they could hear her labored gasps, trying to breathe.
"Well," Peter asked anxiously.
Samantha nodded. "Yes, they shall be able to save her."
Held back breaths were released as Remus and Peter showed their relief.
Remus approached James and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"She'll be all right. You should let them take over."
James looked up at five hooded figures lingering over the Slayer's body and reluctantly let go of his iron grasp on Lily's hand.
He stood and looked on as the robed forms carefully lifted the tiny girl into their arms and carried her off into the middle of their circle.
"We should go so as to not disturb the ritual," Samantha spoke up timidly.
They followed her towards her house with James and Peter carrying Sirius' limp body.
Remus and James took notice of Samantha's weariness due to the fact that she constantly paused to take in deep ragged breaths.
"Are you all right?" James grunted, groaning under Sirius weight.
Samantha nodded as she leaned on a tree.
"Are you quite sure?" Remus looked her straight in the eye.
Samantha nodded once more and that was when she collapsed right into Remus' arms.
**************************************************************************** **********
The ritual needed grueling preparation; both of the mind and soul, years of immense expertise and arduous concentration.
To proceed with this ancient and highly complicated ritual, the coven uttered a chant to prime themselves for the task ahead.
Their different voices steadily rose from a slow whisper from Morwen which worked itself into an intense fervor as they steadily added their own voices to form a soft, melodic albeit haunting medley.
The words were neither important nor a necessity, but it aided in the group's concentration as they bound their and souls and gathered their strengths.
The ritual had only been cast once, a century ago, as to why, the ancient scriptures did not say. It had been successful though many of the performers were drained, their powers never returning to their original state.
The risks of death and loss of power would have to be taken for the innocent before them was a Vampire Slayer, without her in this world; death and destruction were imminent.
The ceremony would have been easier if one of their own, Samantha, were present.
Her magickal capabilities were direly needed to ensure the spell's success.
But Morwen had sent her to keep the Slayer's companions away from the location as to where the ceremony was to be performed.
They would lead to disruptions in the collective consciousness of the coven.
Samantha's healing powers were to be helpful since they-she-would be the focusing crystal that was to be needed in order to properly call upon the flowing source of magick.
She was the only one of them with such power and such upbringing.
The only one with whitelighter's blood in her veins.
But she was under great strain, the coven, especially Morwen could sense the exertion in her bearings. The way that she had held herself, which seemed seemingly effortless, was masking away the weariness she truly felt.
Now, they were to unearth a ritual that was centuries old with multiple hazards to save a warrior who was so close to her end that a part-angel couldn't save.
But collective calls to the source of magick were usually answered and had more power than one Wicca.
So, here they were, trying to save a person they barely knew, placing their lives on the line, knowing that the Slayer had, too, to fight an inner battle herself, a war they could not see. And only then will they be able to save her.
The Gods help them.
**************************************************************************** **********
A/N: That was a short one. Sorry. I had stupid writer's block right in the middle of writing this story. Dammit!
I'll try to get this out by finishing one of my other stories, hopefully this'll be gone by next week.
And, oh, yeah; REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW
Thanks!!!! To all those who reviewed! Yay! I got over a hundred!!! Yay!!! *Pops open a champagne bottle*