"So?"
"So what?"
"When are we leaving?"
"You heard them. We can't."
Hermione looked at Harry disapprovingly. They had vacated the common room and moved to the boys' dorm. The other fifth-years had gone to the older dorm or filtered back to the common room.
"What do you mean, we can't? When has being told not to ever stopped us?"
"It's not just that," Harry said. "I saw what will happen. We'll be in serious trouble."
"They're killing Spike. We can't just hide," Neville said. The determination in his voice surprised them all.
"Look," Hermione argued, "Dumbledore is gone. So are the others. The three professors are going to try, but they'll be completely outnumbered. We can use the invisibility cloak."
"We won't all fit," Ron pointed out.
Harry remembered Buffy's words. He had to do what he thought was right, visions be damned.
"We'll split up," Harry said. "Ron, Hermione, Neville, you guys head for Snape's. Take my father's cloak. Ginny, you and I will take the Marauder's Map …" He froze, feeling inordinately stupid. "The map! Of course!" He dove into his trunk, tossing aside possessions of all sorts as he dug it out. "I was right," he said once it was activated. "Spike and Drusilla are in Snape's classroom. There's the three professors, heading that way. All these other names must be vampires and Death Eaters."
"'Cor! There's got to be fifteen names roamin' the halls," Ron burst out. Harry considered that for a minute.
"Ginny, you and I will take the map. These guys don't know Hogwarts well. We can ambush them." She gulped and nodded. "You don't have to if you don't want to."
"No, I do," she said. "Just a little nervous." Harry smiled at her, and she felt some of her fear recede. She couldn't tell if she was more nervous about facing vampires or being alone with him.
"Me, too," he said sympathetically.
"Is my father on that map?" The voice came from the doorway. Harry looked it over quickly.
"No, Malfoy, he isn't. Were you expecting him?"
"Look, Potter…" Draco paused, deciding he could burn bridges later. "The bastard pissed me off. He could be here, and if he was I would want a piece of him. As it is, I'm thinking a pile of vampire dust would look well on the Slytherin mantle."
"So you're a good guy now, Malfoy?" Ron's sarcasm rolled out thick enough to drown him. "Thought this was the wrong side. The riffraff."
"It's still the riffraff, Weasley. I mean, look at…" Realizing where he was heading, he nearly bit his tongue to keep from finishing. In his head, he began a silent chant: I am not my father. I am not my father. "Look, I just want to help out. This is my home, too."
"Well, bugger off. We don't need help from you."
"Ron. Quit it," Harry said sternly. If they were going to ask him to make the decisions, he would damn well make them. They had no time to be picky. "We're in too much danger. Draco, you want in?"
"Yeah."
"Then you're in. You're with me and Ginny."
It had been years since Spike felt this much pain. Since that Glory bint, he figured, though that had lasted a lot longer.
Even the Slayer, for all her kink and hostility, had never put him through something like this. The floor of Snape's classroom had been stained a deep, rich red. Dru marred each of his limbs with cuts; a human would have been dead after losing half this much blood.
"So are we through yet, luv?" His voice wobbled as it spilled from his mouth.
"Poor Spike. Are you tired? Don't you want to play?"
The blonde vampire resisted the strong urge to pass out. He had to keep her interested, until one of those bloody fools could come to his rescue.
"I am tired, Dru. You've beaten me, pet. Can you get rid of these idiots, so we can be alone together?"
"Will you make it up to me, Spike?"
"A thousand times over, luv." He wondered why she couldn't see the Slayer on him anymore. Oh, right. She had carved off all the bits where she saw the Slayer. Whatever the bleedin' hell that meant, other than gouges in his arse.
Drusilla shooed the three minions and three Death Eaters out of the room. Then she caressed Spike's face, leaning down and lapping up some of the blood on his chest.
"Miss Edith doesn't believe you, you know. She says you're lying." Her words pierced his ears in her childish, lilting voice. He had never quite learned where Miss Edith ended and Drusilla began, but he knew he was about to be vacuum fodder regardless.
Drusilla pulled away, walking directly over to the doll. She slapped it, hard, admonishing it as if it were alive. Then she turned it to face the wall.
"You've been bad," she told it, "and now you can't watch mummy take back her Spike." She glided over to Spike and kissed him, cutting his lip lightly with her fang.
Above them, Ron, Hermione, and Neville watched from underneath the cloak.
"Can you unlock his chains, 'Mione?"
"I don't know, Ron. We're far away, and I don't know what the range is."
He was about to ask her to try anyway when two of the Death Eaters returned to the room. Drusilla whirled around, angry at the intrusion. None of the kids noticed the third robed figure creeping up behind them.
Willow and Dumbledore beat the wave of Death Eaters back easily enough, though the air dome spell had been disrupted in its early stages. One round of counterspells and curses scattered them back towards the Refuge; their retreat happened so rapidly that Dumbledore wondered if the attack had only been a feint, and if so, what they were drawing attention from. Though he realized this meant Grey was probably in a great deal of trouble, his first priority had to be restarting the spell.
They were a bit more than half finished with the second try when the screeching began.
Willow heard them before she could see them, a wild, cackling swarm of angry old women. If not for the noise, she would have thought it was a flock of birds flying too low. Instead, she recognized an incoming pack of harpies – grotesque half-woman, half-bird monstrosities. They appeared to be female torsos jammed onto the back end of a turkey and given wings.
The harpies swooped down, shrieking and spitting their acidic saliva. Dumbledore, his concentration split as he tried to hold the fledgling dome in place, tried to end the threat with several well-placed fireballs. He reacted too late. Sharp talons dug into his robes, knocking him to the ground. Willow, her space clear for the moment, heated the air above him, generating a shield of flame. Several of his assailants flew through the flame, but a few managed to veer off and come around for another pass.
A dozen yards away, Tara felt a gob of spit burn through her robe. She dove to the ground, rolling in the dirt to scrape it off. She managed to avoid a major burn, but knew that it would hurt for days. From her knees, she began chanting, hoping to create a defensive barrier around them.
One of the harpies descended to rake Willow with her claws. Reflexes honed by years of facing vampires saved her. She dropped to the earth and quickly hopped back up, dodging under the lethal knives; as she rose, she hurled jagged icicles at her attacker. Bleeding in a dozen places, the harpy careened from the sky and crashed in a heap.
Shielded by Willow's flame, Dumbledore regrouped and began waving his wand. After thirty seconds, the remaining harpies began to shrink. Each one seemed to fold in on itself until it resembled a large Quaffle, then a regular one. Finally, they all changed color to match the regulation Quaffles at Hogwarts.
"Wow," Tara said. Willow nodded.
"Triumph for transfiguration. Cool."
"Ladies," Dumbledore said, brushing dirt from his robes, "I suggest we get to work."
Harry's group acquitted themselves well. They bagged four of the fifteen vamps, catching each one alone. Draco and Ginny could both perform the fireball spell now, forced to learn it by the situation. They had just entered a third floor hall when trouble struck.
At last glance on the map, the hall contained a single name. Another person had come around the corner just as they had, though, and instead of facing a single vampire, they faced a vampire and a Death Eater.
"Young Malfoy," the robed man rasped. "This should be fun."
"INCENDO!" Harry's spell engulfed the vampire in flame, but the Death Eater sidestepped it. He laughed, a ripple of icy water on their skin.
"Not bad, young mister Potter. Try this, though: CUMULO!"
A concentrated tube of rain and wind, coupled with a deafening thunderclap in the center of the hallway, slammed into the unprepared trio. Harry and Ginny tumbled backwards, bouncing into a nearby stairwell and rolling down to the landing below.
Draco, knocked back with equal force, managed to ram into a suit of armor.
"I think I'll leave you alive and kill you at your father's feet," the Death Eater taunted. "Wouldn't that be lovely?"
On the ground, Draco struggled to breathe. At least one rib had snapped. Maybe more.
"Or maybe I'll let him kill you. He hates you quite a lot, you know."
Forget the wit, Malfoy thought as he resisted the urge to reply. He felt his wand in his hand, and the anger burned more than his ribs.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" The curse flew from Draco's wand and caught the stunned Death Eater by surprise. The dark wizard's wand flew out of his hands and down the hall. Draco readied a fireball, but thought better of it and opted for ropes instead. In seconds, the Death Eater slumped to the floor tightly bound.
In the stairwell, a woozy Harry came to his knees. With her arm on his shoulder for support, Ginny rose shakily to her feet and helped him up. They traded grins, glad to be among the living.
Then they heard the growls, and realized they were actually among the dead.
The zoo was deserted. All of the Death Eaters seemed to be in Cansbury, wreaking havoc. Following the easily marked signs, Grey made his way swiftly to the dragon pens. Little more than cages, the pens were areas the size of a Quidditch field or larger; each had a three-dimensional cage around it. Jess floated in the middle of the largest one.
"I'm sorry, the dragons aren't here today," she said, an evil grin on her face. "Perhaps you'd like to see the platypi, or maybe the souvenir store?"
He stood just inside the gate, hands at his sides. His lightsaber sat in its holster. He said nothing, hoping to goad her into a mistake.
"What, nothing to say? No hi, how are you, thanks for the dance?"
Silence.
"Look at you, all dressed up as the Jedi. Did I interrupt another costume party between you and the redheaded bitch? That's a little kinky, don't you think? Answer me, damn you!"
In her rage, she fired another of her red eyebolts at him. Instantly, the lightsaber came up and took the bolt on the center of the blade.
"Ooh, you found a real one. Let's test it."
She summoned the black blades again. He knew she had found a favorite spell; four blades whistled through the air. Then he moved and parried, danced and slashed, and they were gone. A silvery globe shot from her hand. He swatted it away. Finally, she simply lashed out with bolts of lightning. The lightsaber shielded him from the crackling electricity, and she stopped.
"Well, this is getting us nowhere. Works like a charm, though. The pathetic geek inside you must be wetting himself."
"Why don't you come down here and fight me for real? Or are you afraid of some foolish squib?" He knew she wouldn't resist. She didn't, landing ten feet from him in a combat stance.
"Listen to you. Taunting a powerful witch. Very naughty," she said, pausing to smile grimly. "Sure, why not?" She rushed him, her speed magically enhanced. With his left hand blocked her right fist, then twisted up with his right knee into her stomach. She spun backwards, evading the full force of the blow, and delivered a backfist to where his head had been. He ducked under that and sent a hard right into her stomach. On the upswing, he dropped two solid left jabs on her jaw, absorbing one in return. The combinations concluded, they stood a foot apart, each waiting for the other to move.
She launched into a series of foot sweeps and follow-up strikes, but, having taught her the series of moves, he deftly avoided them and left her striking empty air.
Warily, she backed off and sized him up. His skills had improved while hers declined. He fought with a ruthlessness she had never seen in him before. Without her magical speed she would have already lost. While she pondered, he decided to take control.
Grey attacked, leading with his right foot. She blocked several kicks, but had to retreat as he pressed forward and a left foot eventually caught her jaw solidly. She went sprawling. Rolling over, she scrambled to her feet.
"You kicked me in the face?" He heard her little girl voice, but the innocence didn't fool him this time. He pressed the attack, fists and elbows flying. Fully on the defensive now, she stopped most of his blows; several more good shots broke through anyway. The last one, a powerful forearm to the face, put her on the ground again. She could feel blood pouring from her broken nose and cursed herself for being baited into fighting him this way. She tried to focus, to bring her power to bear, but it wouldn't come.
He loomed over her, the moon behind him and his face in shadow. An Angel of Death come for her at last.
For the first time ever, the thing that had been Jess O'Brien knew fear.
"It's gone too far. I'm sorry."
He drew the lightsaber.