The Scooby party arrived six days later. Willow provided shuttle service, bringing Xander, Buffy and Dawn across to the Gryffindor common room. Ron, Hermione, Giles, Tara and Harry formed the reception. Nearly all of the other students had departed for the holidays, including Ron's brothers and Ginny. Ron decided to spend the break with Harry and Hermione, though Harry doubted he would see either of them much. Grey had stopped by Hagrid's for a chat with the groundskeeper.
"My word, did they leave anything in the house?" Giles stared at the mountain of luggage assembled by Buffy and Dawn.
"I don't think they left much," Xander confirmed. "Carrying it down the stairs was a fun task for the last male Scooby." Giles smirked internally, but said nothing.
"It wasn't that bad, Xander," Buffy said, "considering the girl with super powers did most of it."
Across the room, Harry introduced Dawn to Ron and Hermione. His face blushed crimson when she recounted the story of Harry saving her life the night they met.
"You've got to teach me that spell, Harry," Ron said in wonder. "We could've used it the other night."
"It's dangerous," Hermione cautioned, "and not something to play around with."
"What happened to you guys the other night?" Dawn asked. Harry explained about Drusilla. "She hurt Spike? Is he alright?"
"Jus' fine, little bit. Vamp healing does wonders." Spike stood in the common room doorway. Squealing, Dawn ran over and hugged him. Taken aback, he slowly wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug.
"So you're totally okay, right?" She pulled away to give him an appraising eye. Buffy had the same look, he knew, but for a different purpose altogether.
"Yeah, can't say as she did anythin' permanent." Dawn released him, and he looked at the other new arrivals. "Chubs." Xander nodded in return.
Spike and Buffy locked eyes. What came next left Willow, Tara, Giles, and Spike gaping.
Buffy walked over and hugged him. Spike's shock deepened as she stood there, arms around his waist, and looked into his eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself, Slayer."
"You're okay?" Did the chit actually have concern in her eyes? Bloody Hell!
"Like I told the bit. Healed up right quick. She wasn't trying to kill me, just get me back. Still got the skills with the knife, though."
"Good." She slipped away from him. "Nobody gets to kill you but me."
"Izzat so?"
"Mmm hmmm. Did she get you back?" He shook his head. More softly, she added, "Let's talk later." The surprised vampire could do nothing but nod. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Told you she missed you," Grey said.
"Hey, Grey, how are you?" Xander came over and shook his hand warmly.
"Not bad. Did you …" He and Xander noticed Buffy staring at him with her mouth hanging open. Images flooded her brain. Dark-hair. Coffee. Bronze. "Buffy?"
"We need to talk. Privately."
The Scoobies, minus Giles and Spike, gathered with Grey in Willow's room to talk business.
"You're saying you had a Slayer dream with Grey's ex in it?" Xander said incredulously.
"Yeah," Buffy replied. "I didn't remember until I saw you, Grey. We were in the old Bronze, there was totally good music on, and she was drinking coffee. She said something about she had to get a message across, and I was the easiest to access because of the Slayer-ness and the Hellmouth."
Willow nodded.
"Dream messages can be difficult to send, but you're attuned to them and the mystical convergence that is our hometown is wired for them."
"What did she say, Buffy?" Grey's voice shook as he failed to restrain his terror.
"She worked hard to convince me it was the good her. What did she say?" Buffy tried to remember; the conversation felt very indistinct. "Oh, I know! David."
"Huh?"
"She said I should call you David, that she was the only one allowed to, and that she wanted apple cinnamon this year. She didn't really give off an evil vibe."
Grey nodded, understanding.
"Just out of curiosity, apple cinnamon what?"
"Popcorn. Every year on Christmas I get her popcorn from this woman in London."
"Can I just say, eeew?" Xander said. Grey shrugged.
"Popcorn?" Willow asked.
"Remember how I said she loves the zoo?" Willow nodded. "Well, she absolutely craves popcorn. She's an addict. I used to tease her about it." His voice was small and tight. "What was the message?"
Buffy scrunched her nose in concentration.
"Let's see … she said something like, the spring rain won't be enough." Buffy looked at him for clarification and he shook his head, not knowing what that meant. "She also said something that had been done had to be undone from the inside, maybe? Does that make sense?"
"None of this makes sense. Anything else?"
"I think so. What was it … it was weird." Buffy paused in thought. "I think there was a line in there about Dr. Seuss."
"Buffy?" Willow gave her an odd look. "Dr. Seuss?"
"You-Know-Who? Is that what she said?" In Buffy's head, the line clicked.
"Yeah, that's it. She said You-Know-Who and I thought Dr. Seuss, 'cuz, you know, of the whos." Willow and Xander shook their heads in wonder at the workings of their friend's mind.
"Voldemort?" Willow asked Grey.
"Yeah, Will. Voldemort. What about You-Know-Who, Buffy?"
"She said he did more than talk." Grey visibly paled, finally understanding the point. Every assumption he had made unraveled instantly.
"What is it?" Willow, seeing his color drain, rested a reassuring hand on his arm.
"She must be talking about that first night. It wasn't just the magic itself that made her evil. Voldemort must have anchored it to her somehow. We need Giles and Hermione. I'll be right back." He raced out of the room. Buffy turned to her friend.
"There was more, Will. Except it was for you."
"Tell me."
"She said 'tell Willow to take care of him.' She was crying. That's why I think it was really her." Willow nodded, staring at the doorway he had departed from.
"I plan to."
"Most interesting," Giles said, after hearing the story. Hermione's brow creased in thought.
"Spring rain, that could be a spell reference," Tara offered. "Some sort of cleansing spell, maybe."
"So, wait, for the non-magically inclined, can we backtrack?" Xander said. "This guy Voldemort, he's the Darth Vader guy here, right?" Grey nodded. "And your girlfriend…"
"Ex-girlfriend," Willow said possessively.
"Sorry Wills, ex-girlfriend, she attacked this guy with the dark magic. Then what? Poof, no pun intended, she pulls an Angelus and goes instantly evil?"
"No," Willow said. "That's not how it happened exactly, right, Grey?"
"She was fine for awhile, maybe a month, give or take. Except she wouldn't leave the house, and she had these nightmares." He shivered. "She would scream and sweat and shake in her sleep, but not wake up. In the morning, she wouldn't remember. I thought the magic gave her dreams, but I'm wondering if Voldemort didn't do it."
As he finished, Giles and Hermione exchanged stares, realizing what they had missed.
"Plague of Hades," they said at the same time.
"Huh?"
"What?
"Plague?"
"Oh no." The last comment leaked from Tara's lips in a whisper.
The others cast perplexed glances on the blonde witch, but Hermione spoke first.
"A few weeks ago, right before the attack on the Refuge, I found this spell called the Plague of Hades. It infects the target with evil."
"The m-more power you have, the easier it is to work the spell on you," Tara added. "I read about it when you asked me to investigate your resurrection spell, Buffy." The Slayer nodded. "It's incredibly powerful dark magic."
"There exists a small group of spells," Giles went on, "that require great power on behalf of the recipient, rather than caster. This spell is one. It takes time to work, however, laying dormant until the subject gives in to the temptation of evil. If Miss O'Brien has had this done to her, rather than succumbed to the lure of her magic, this spell would likely be the means."
"Doesn't explain why it didn't kick in until the night Voldemort came back to power," Grey said. "I doubt that's a coincidence."
"What if he left, I don't know, the magical equivalent of a post-hypnotic suggestion," Willow said. "When he got his power back, he triggered it magically and woke her up."
"Something done must be undone from the inside," Grey repeated softly.
"If that's true, than Miss O'Brien is indeed not in control of her actions, and is also in quite a bit of danger," Giles said. "You said the other night she could not kill you, correct?"
"Yeah. But I just assumed her subconscious wouldn't do it, the way Willow's wouldn't let her light the candle awhile back." The Hogwarts group nodded. "But maybe not. Maybe she really is fighting it, and she prevented the magic from doing it. How much would she be responsible for her actions, under this spell?"
"Normally, I would say not at all," Giles answered. "I will have to research further, but I believe the spell would completely overrule any regulatory impulse she might have." He paused, pondering. "She is enormously powerful, though. Perhaps she cannot kill you because her feelings run deeper than the spell could penetrate. Voldemort may not have realized that when he did this to her, and it may help us break her free. This is all pure conjecture, of course."
The anger in Grey's gaze burned fiercely.
"Find out."
Grey had no hope of sleeping that night. Willow had given her room to Buffy and Xander; Dawn had taken an empty bed in Hermione's dorm. Willow stayed up with him, occupying the other chair in front of his fire. They were winding up a discussion of Willow's difficulty with dark magic. He had spent several hours before that pacing back and forth between his room and Giles' spot in the library.
"Did you ever have dreams?"
"No," she said definitively. "At least, not the kind that urged me to use more power. I always just used more power because it felt good."
He nodded, his unspoken question answered.
"That devious son of a bitch," Grey muttered softly. His thoughts churned in the quiet room. "You know what I realized at the Refuge? Other than the stuff that led to my big speech, I mean."
"No. What?"
"When we mix it up with her, at the end? I won't be very useful. It would take her or Voldemort maybe two seconds tops to disarm me, and then I'm just a squib."
"That's why you've got the rest of us with you. I kind of think the fact that it's YOU will be more helpful than anything you could do."
"I guess." He didn't feel like probing his guilt over putting them at risk. "I have to go into London tomorrow. Alone."
"Why? I could come with."
"No. Spend some time with your friends. We have all year, they have five days. Besides," he added, smiling faintly, "I'm going to pick up your gift." Silently he chided himself for lying, knowing that he would also be paying his annual visit to the popcorn store.
"Well, when you put it that way … looks like I'm a homebody for the day."
They both went quiet after that, lost in different thoughts.
He had no idea what would become of his relationship with Willow if Jess could be not only cured, but absolved of responsibility for what she had done to him. Would she want him back? Definitely. Would he want her back? Yes. Would he go back to her? Looking at the beautiful woman seated across from her, absorbing her obvious concern for him, he admitted to himself that he didn't know. Until they cured Jess – if they cured Jess – he decided not to dwell on the dilemma. He knew any decision made before she actually returned to him would be utterly worthless.
Across the room, Willow glanced at Grey and sensed the turmoil the message had caused in him. Fear gripped her stomach as she imagined Jess' homecoming, healed and blame-free. Would Grey take her back? Would he leave Willow? The redhead had no answer for either question.
Giles and Hermione had yet to leave the library. They spent the entire day digging up information on the Plague of Hades. The more they found, the more both were convinced that Voldemort had performed it on Jess.
"And you've found no trace of a counterspell, Hermione?" Giles and Grey had asked that question no less than ten times in the past few hours.
"No, Professor … I mean, Giles." She had difficulty getting into the habit of calling him Giles. "You know, this makes most of the work we've done thus far completely useless."
"Why do you say that, my dear?"
"Well," Hermione began. She had pondered this all day. "It does not seem to me that removing her magic will do much in the way of removing her evil. From what these books have told us, the magic can exist without the evil, and vice versa."
"I agree," the Watcher said, wondering where she was heading. He finally had admitted to himself that she was as gifted a researcher, even in her mid-teens, as he had ever met. At times, she pointed out avenues of inquiry that he himself completely overlooked. He had praised her often, causing a furious display of blushing; at those times, she reminded him greatly of a younger Willow.
"Since, based on our decision the other night, I think our goal is to exorcise the evil from her mind, we should work toward undoing this spell, which completely alters our focus."
"I see," he said, nodding. He had been thinking the same thing. "What do you suggest?" She blushed, embarrassed that he let her take the lead again.
"I thought I could try and determine how You Know Who triggered the activation of the spell when he returned. That knowledge, combined with what we know about the Plague of Hades, might help us undo them both. You can research this spring rain clue that Jess sent us. If we can try and find both at once, we can make up for some of the time we've lost already." She looked up from the notes she had made, trying to gauge if she had gone too far. Giles smiled his approval and agreed.