"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Giles said.

          "I said I know how to cast it."

          Tara, Buffy, and Giles shared expressions of incredulity. The talisman at Willow's neck glowed with anger.

          Only McGonagall seemed unsurprised.

          "Albus taught you, didn't he? During those weeks you were here after graduation?"

          Jess nodded. "He thought there were some things I should know as an auror that were … outside the regular curriculum. Most of them, the Ministry would have had his arse for teaching to someone so novice."

          "Umm … hold on, not seeing why this is a problem," Buffy interjected. "I mean, this is a good thing, right? Circe here does her thing and Willow's honey's all healthy again."

          "Her magic is tainted, Buffy," Willow said through gritted teeth. "We'd have to remove the taint first, which," she glared at Jess, "we could do by force if we have to. Afterwards, I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help us."

          "Go ahead and try, Red," Jess challenged. The tension in the room rose several notches in an instant.

          "Actually, Willow," Hermione said tentatively, "we can't. We need her cooperation because of how it's bound."

          Willow's anger suddenly deflated as she realized the truth of Hermione's statement.

          "What was done must be undone from the inside," she remembered. They would need Jess to grant them access to her mind.

          "That's why you didn't say anything," McGonagall continued, speaking to Jess. "Because to do it, you'd need us to prepare you. If we cast the Spring Rain spell on you, then your magic will be as pure as if you'd never cast a single spell."

She nodded.

"You'll have to give up your power or watch him die."

Jess' head slumped to her chest.

"Yes."

          In the silence that followed, Willow felt a sympathetic pang for the sorceress. She knew how heady the feeling of power could be, and she had never embraced it. Giving it up was no small price.

          Hermione broke the reverie with a question none of the others had thought to ask.

          "But would you still be able to … perform it without the extra power?"

          "Maybe," she replied, her voice a whisper. "It's actually a two-man job. I'm a bit short o' the power to do it normally, I think; almost anyone is. But if Red or Blondie here can push some power through the Eye of the Golem, I could use that. Should be enough, then."

          Jess was silent for a long time after that, thinking about what she was giving up. All her power. All her dreams. Everything.

          Then her eyes found Grey, who seemed for all the world to be sleeping peacefully.

          You have no idea the depths of my missing you.

          She turned to Willow.

          "If you hurt him after this, I'll cut your fucking heart out, goody-two-shoes or not."

          "He's still got his toys, I see," Jess said, her tone carrying more than a small amount of affection. She and Willow had decided to use Grey's room for the first spell; Tara, Giles, McGonagall, and Hermione were arranging materials in the library for the Spring Rain encore. It had taken a massive application of the resolve face to make Giles allow her to enter Jess' mind; he had acquiesced eventually, mumbling something about how they would bring Grey back only to have Grey kill him.

          "You weren't kidding, Will," Xander said, eyeing the contents of the shelves. "This is stuff is great! I wish I had gotten up here last time." He was along to make sure they were undisturbed.

          "Comics are under the bed, Xander," Willow replied. "He gets bored easily," she told Jess.

          "For once, monitor duty, not a bad thing," he said, leaning down to pull one of the long white boxes free. "Just need some donuts and a tranq gun and we're back at Sunnydale High."

          "Who is this guy, again?"

          Anxiety lifted her voice to a higher octave than usual. "He's just Xander. He's my best friend since forever. He'll make sure no beastie gets the jump on us or anything, not that they could in the middle of Hogwarts, but better safe, you know?"

          "Can't be too careful," Jess affirmed distractedly. She was giving Xander an appraising eye. What was it about her and cute dorks …

          "You ready?" Willow asked, jolting her back to reality. Jess' expression grew unreadable, then she nodded. "And you're … you're sure about this?"

          "No," Jess answered honestly. "But I'm doing it, and the longer we wait, the harder it is for me to go through with, so I'm thinkin' we should get to it."

          They sat facing each other in the chairs next to the cold fireplace. When they were comfortable, Willow met the sorceress' gaze and spoke the incantation aloud.

          Then she was somewhere else.

          Willow's head felt thick and her vision was blurred. The forest around her was all-consuming in its darkness, and she could feel the evil emanating from it. The tall pines encircled her completely, and she stood alone in a small clearing.

          She realized she couldn't feel her magic at all, and fear spread like cold water through her stomach and chest.

          "Ohhhkay," she said aloud, trying to clear the sudden fright away. "This seems not of the good."

          It didn't work. The scary feeling didn't recede, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. This felt nothing like when she was in Buffy's head.

          "That's because it's not," a warm voice said from behind her. She turned around. "There's evil here, rather than sorrow."

Grey.

Or at least, she thought it was Grey. He had on a dark blue dress robe and was leaning on a quarterstaff. And he had hair. Brown and knotted in unruly curls, falling down over his eyes. On close inspection, she realized he was younger than her Grey.

"Yep. I am indeed."

"Is it … is it really you?"

"No, Willow, I'm sorry. It's not." Then he smiled slightly. "This is how he was when she first met him. I guess you could say I'm her memory of Grey, which, just between us girls, is a lot more pleasant and probably a little more talented than the real thing."

"The hair is a nice touch. So is the robe."

"Thanks."

"So … um, not that I mind the company, but … why are you here?"

"Tour guide," he said simply. "Always valuable when you're in a very bad place."

"This is a very bad place? Oh, of course it is, duh, because hello evil vibes and big, dark trees. Plus, you know, evil witch's mind and all." She paused; he was smiling. "Sorry. I babble when I'm nervous."

"I see why he likes you, though. Come on." He lifted his hand and a gap appeared in the trees, complete with dirt road. "I'll explain as we walk."

They ambled down the path, passing an endlessly monotonous row of evil trees as they did.

"See, Jess wants out, but she can't circumvent the spell. Voldemort's good that way," he said solemnly. "But how she feels about Grey, he couldn't keep that locked up, and it's been eating away at the spell for months. I can help you, because …"

"Being associated with Grey, the spell can't keep you down," Willow finished.

He nodded, pleased that she understood.

"Right. The way this is set up, as soon as I finish explaining, we're going to come to the place in her head that you have to fix. When that happens, I can't help you directly, because I'm still part of her mind. You see?"

"So if you weren't here…"

"Remember in Buffy's head? How it jumped right to what she wanted you to see? That would have happened here, and you would have been in big trouble."

"How do you know about that?"

"Our minds are linked, now. I can see things about you that you're forcing to the surface of your thoughts, and … hey! No need for that!"

Willow blushed up to the tips of her ears. "Sorry! Sorry! Just, you said that and I didn't want you to see it and so the image popped up in my head …"

Grey laughed.

"It's alright. Let's just skip that discussion, though, okay?" Willow nodded vigorously. "Good. Now, are you ready?"

"One question first?"

"Sure."

"Where's my magic? I'm feeling sorta …"

"Naked without it?" She nodded again. "Sorry about that. Problem is, all of your power is tied up in keeping you here, and you're in someone else's mind. You're really pretty powerless. You need to figure out what's happening here, but you can't personally affect it much."

He was leaving something out on purpose, she knew, but she couldn't think of a way to get it from him, so she let it go.

"Okay."

"Ready now?"

She took a deep breath, not knowing what else to ask.

"Yeah. Send me in."

"Good luck," the image said solemnly. "For all three of our sakes."

Then she was somewhere else.

"Another forest," she muttered. "Damn."

The first thing she noticed was the storm, a torrent of howling wind and rain that stung her eyes and drenched her clothes. The next thing she saw were the spells.

Her recently acquired knowledge told her what each one was, and she watched as they rocketed from Jess' wand, one after another. The witch looked downright heroic in her dark robe, black hair streaming out behind her and the sky around her crackling with magic. The image seemed slightly out of place in Willow's mind, but then, she had only known the evil version.

"Jess, you have to back off!" Grey screamed over the howling wind. He had on his blue-on-blue ensemble, jeans and sweatshirt, and his hair had once again vanished. He was also, much to her surprise, wearing a pair of sunglasses, even though it was really dark.

"I've got it, I've got it. Just be ready," she shouted back.

Willow watched as he shook his head and grabbed her free hand. The pair were only twenty yards away from her; an image of Voldemort stood beyond them, but somehow, Willow could tell that it wasn't real. She saw a long silver chord floating out of its back.

"Listen to me! This is a bad idea. We need to back off and get help! He's not as wounded as we thought. Jess, please!"

Grey's voice was full of fear as Jess wrested her hand from his and shoved him away. A low rumbling sound filled the air, but neither Jess nor Grey reacted to it. It sounded like … laughter.

For a fraction of a second Jess turned her head to the right angle, and Willow saw her eyes turn black. Grey gasped, the noise audible even over the wind. A black tendril of magic snaked its way through the air, latching on to Jess' chest. She didn't notice it, but Grey did.

Then he turned to Willow.

"Follow it," he whispered, his voice somehow even louder than the shouting had been. "Break her free."

Willow wanted to answer, but Grey had already returned to his place in the memory and was oblivious to her. She ran forward, following the strand of black magic as far as it would take her. It led onto a path similar to the one she had walked before; this one was nowhere near as endless. After a few short minutes, she stepped out of the storm and into another clearing.

The air inside the circle tingled with evil.

A more solid image of Voldemort held the end of the magic she had been following, his red eyes glowing in the dim light. This was the real thing, not the one she had seen first.

"Aah, Willow," he said, his voice just as raspy as his real world counterpart. "So good to see you. I believe you've met my other guests?"

Two women stepped out from the shadows behind him. The first one she recognized easily: it was Jess, as she had appeared on Halloween, black dress and all. Then she saw the other one and gaped.

"That's … that's … it's me?"

"That's right, cutie," the other Willow said. Her voice was oddly flat and disaffected. Her hair was black and her skin pale, as the real Willow knew that hers had been several hours before. She was dressed in dark, tight-fitting pants and a dark denim jacket. "Well, not really. See, I'm what you could be, if you just gave yourself a little relief from that repressed little nerd-girl thing you have going on."

"I'm not a nerd," Willow said petulantly.

"Don't tell me, honey. Tell yourself. I'm just a reflection of you, that's all."

The real Willow spun and glared at Voldemort.

"What is this? This isn't about me! This is about her!" She pointed to the image of Jess.

"Please, Willow, don't be so foolish," Voldemort said, an eerie grin on his face. "Did you think I wouldn't know that they would send you in here? Of course I did, and some time ago, I prepared this special reception. I know that you long to let your dark side out far more than Precious ever did, and I can help you with that."

"You're lying," Willow said. "You couldn't know I'd be here. You don't know anything about me."

"Really? Nothing at all?" He threw his gaunt head back and laughed, exposing gray teeth. "Let me show you what it is I don't know about who you really are."

He waved his hands and a circle of white light appeared in front of him. The white light faded and images flashed across it like a television screen. Willow watched as it showed her and Tara talking in the hallway of Buffy's house. She reflexively smiled; she couldn't remember the conversation, but it was clear they were both happy. Tara seemed to glow like she used to when they had just been to bed together.

Then Willow heard a crack and Tara's chest exploded in red.

"No…" Her hand involuntarily rose to her mouth, her tongue accidentally brushing a finger. It tasted coppery, like when Xander would dare her to put a penny in her mouth as a kid. She looked down; blood soaked the white shirt she suddenly wore. Her hands were bathed in it. "Tara? Baby? What…"

Her eyes turned black.

"If you've hurt Tara…"

"Oh no, Willow, not me. Watch."

The magic screen rolled through a series of images: Warren firing random shots from a handgun … Buffy bleeding on the ground as Xander looked on with panic … Willow draining the books in the Magic Box as text swirled over her skin … Her dark counterpart rushing through the forest … Warren running for his life … Warren's skin being peeled off in one swift motion …

Bile rose in Willow's throat. Would she do that? Could she? Somewhere deep down, she felt the unpleasant answer and fought the urge to scream.

Grey's voice interrupted the nightmare.

"These aren't real, Willow. Tara's alive. Buffy's fine. Trust yourself."

"What is that?" Voldemort cried. "Who dares to interrupt?"

The pause shattered his hold on her. Willow closed her eyes and pictured the scene in the infirmary. Tara and Buffy comforting her, both alive and unharmed. Grey lying hurt in the hospital bed, but still not dead. They could fix him … if she could right this ship.

Something changed. For the first time since arriving in the forest, Willow felt her power well up from inside herself. She imagined herself wearing clean clothing, Tara's blood all gone and back in her body where it was meant to be. When she looked down, her shirt was starkly white. The coppery taste had even left her mouth. She pointed to her pale counterpart.

"That isn't real. Tara's alive, and you aren't me. I HAVE control. So buzz off, wicked witch." The doppelganger disappeared, as did the image screen.

"That's not possible," Voldemort said, aghast. "You have no power here."

"Nope," Willow said with a smile, finally understanding what was going on. "But she does," Willow added, pointing to the image of Jess. "And she loves Grey more than she loves the magic, so she gave me some to kick your ass. And, here's the real zinger, buddy: you aren't real. You're just my mind translating Voldemort's spell into a form I can perceive. So I CAN kick your ass if I want to, because I get that." She raised her hand. "But it wouldn't be nearly as much fun as doing this."

Willow snapped her fingers.

The image of Jess vanished and the forest around them shattered like glass. Willow and Voldemort were left standing in the middle of a vast white space.

"Cool. It's like the White album. Except it's a room."

"This can't be," Voldemort said, amazed.

Another image of Jess came into focus next to Willow. This one wore a simple white wizard's robe; her face looked young and fresh, with her lustrous black hair bound up in a ponytail behind her. Her eyes were jade green and shining, and she was gorgeous.

Too bad I'm off girls, Willow thought fleetingly.

"Sure and I'll take that as a compliment," Jess said without turning her head. She stared Voldemort down.

"Very impressive, Precious," he said with a nod of concession.

When she spoke, her voice came out dead calm.

"Get out of my head, you bastard."

Willow smiled faintly.

Then she was somewhere else.

Willow blinked. She was back in Grey's room. Xander was asleep, stretched out at the foot of Grey's bed with an issue of Batman open on his chest. Jess sat still for another few seconds, then lurched off the chair to her knees.

"Oh God," she moaned. The memories of the past year all rose up at once, and she did the only thing she could.

She grabbed the wastebasket and vomited.