"Halt! Who seeks an audience with my noble sire?"
"N-Neville Longbottom."
"I see. And are you this Neville Longbottom, or merely his squire?"
"Huh?" Neville had no idea what the puny knight was talking about, but combined with how scared he already was, he was about ten seconds from running.
"A master of deception, then! Unwilling to reveal his true…" The door opened, pushing the painting away.
"Cadogan!"
"I'm sorry, my liege. I am merely trying to protect you, is all."
"If I'm in the room, you tell people to knock. Unless they know the password. Once more, and I will be most displeased. Neville?"
"Y-yes?" The Gryffindor had been trying to stay out of sight in the hall.
"Come on in." Grey appeared dour, but his tone was friendly. Neville, casting a fearful glance in the direction of Sir Cadogan, darted into the room. "What can I do for you?" Grey shut the door and ushered him into the center.
The sight of so many muggle toys left Neville temporarily awestruck. His eyes flitted around the room, trying to take it all in at once. Grey waited patiently for his eyes to halt their gyrations before he spoke.
"Neville?"
"Oh. Sorry. It's just … not what I expected." Grey nodded. "I … I came to ask for help."
"Name it."
"I was sort of hoping … Willow said that you might … teach me? Some of the fighting stuff you know?"
"Absolutely. Do you mind if I ask why?"
"I'm so tired." Neville sighed, letting it all out. He never had before, but Grey seemed like he would listen without laughing. "I'm tired of being a klutz and of being scared and of not knowing anything." He started to cry softly, but Grey knew he wasn't finished and let him go. "I'm tired of thinking my parents would be so disappointed in me."
The auror walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Neville, if you truly believe that, I can't help you. All I can teach you is how to discipline yourself and how to use that to defend yourself."
"I feel like if I know something like that, I would be more like they would want me to be."
"What happened to your parents is a terrible thing. But don't think for a minute that somewhere in their heads they don't remember you or wouldn't be proud of you. They would be. They would certainly be proud that you came for help when you needed it, and that you've survived years of Professor Snape, and made great friends like Harry and Ron." The tears streamed down Neville's face, but he nodded. "You don't need to know self-defense to have something to be proud of. If you don't believe any of that, how about this?"
Neville looked up, questioning him with his eyes.
"On Halloween, you went head to head with as dangerous an opponent as your parents or mine have ever faced. You did it when you were so frightened that your hands shook, when most of your classmates stampeded the exits to stay alive. In the face of all of that fear, you stood your ground and tried to save lives. Take pride in that, if nothing else. I'll be happy to teach you, because I think you're worth teaching, but I won't do it when you don't recognize the value in you that I do." The boy nodded again, his tears finally halted and replaced with a look of determination.
"What do I have to do?" He asked.
"Be on the southwest roof tonight, an hour before lights out. Wear loose-fitting pants and a sweater. You'll be cold."
Grey handed Neville a towel. Spike lit a cigarette.
"Wasn't so bad, was it?" The vampire asked Neville.
"No," the boy admitted, wiping the sweat from his face. "It's more thinking than I thought it would be." Grey signaled his agreement with a slight nod. "I'm going to be sore tomorrow, though."
"Doesn't have to be so much thinking," Spike said. "Helps at the beginning, though. I think you'll be right good at this, after awhile. As for the soreness, it goes away quickly."
"Thanks for helping, Spike. That's twice now, with this and with Malfoy."
"Like I said before, jus' doin' it 'cause it's fun."
"Who taught you to fight?" Neville meant the question innocently, but he saw that it was not a good one to ask. Spike's eyes went dark for a minute.
"You know what a sire is?" Neville shook his head. "Sire's the one that vamps you. Mine's a lady named Drusilla. Grey met her in Sunnydale a few weeks back. She taught me some of it. Rest of it I learned from Angelus, who was her sire, or picked up on my own."
"You don't sound like you like them too much," Neville said without thinking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he added quickly.
"'S'Alright. You don't know better. Let's say that Angelus isn't the man he once was; I don't hate 'im, but we don't get along. Dru … let's say she's not on the top of my list, and drop it. Are you going to be joinin' us regular, then?" Neville welcomed the change in subject. He liked the vampire and didn't want to make him angry.
"Is it okay? I don't want to get in the way." Spike looked at Grey, who nodded.
"No problem for me. I don't mind teachin'. I was hoping to teach the nibblet some this fall, actually."
"The nibblet?"
"Dawn, Buffy's little sister. Gonna be a hell of a fighter, that one, if they get her trained up."
"She's not bad now," Grey said. "She got Drusilla with the holy water pretty good."
"Really?" That impressed Spike. "Not bad. Dru isn't one to mess with. You remember that," he said to Neville, "if she ever comes 'round here."
The red eyes and the rasping voice made Drusilla think of the snake show she and Spike would watch sometimes, in the old days. Robin Hood, with all of the animals talking like people. She loved it because they could watch it without getting hungry.
"You must be careful. This castle is crawling with do-gooders." The voice spat the final word.
"It's alright, dearie. I've been there before. A nice little girl invited me in. We had fun, but then she was bad. Miss Edith remembers, don't you?" The vampiress began babbling to the doll.
"Attend me."
Two servants in dark robes rushed to their lord's side. One of them moved slightly faster than the other, who rapidly grew bored with her subservient role.
"How may we serve, master?"
"Wormtail, I would like you to deliver this … Master Vampire of sorts … to the castle. Provide her with enough minions and Death Eaters to make the endeavor worthwhile. Precious?"
Jess hated that name. She inched closer, thinking of the day when she might rip that slithering tongue from his head. If only Grey and that redheaded bitch had joined her, she would be dragging him around by a leash.
"Yes, master? How may I serve?" Her syrupy voice flowed over him. He loved it, but he was not foolish enough to believe it.
"You have always told me how you liked an audience. Come up with something … special, will you? Something to draw out Albus and those other sheep he has gathered to him. Make sure whatever you do lasts long enough to get him there. Begin two weeks from today."
Jess shivered at the prospect. It was almost too much fun to imagine.