Part 8:
Giles walked into Hogwarts, a demure Willow by his side. He knew that that exterior would not last long. And he hoped that when it broke, Albus Dumbledore would be there. With uncanny insight into people he barely knew, save through Remus, he knew that they would not appreciate her unrestrained effervescence.
When he'd proposed a return to Hogwarts two days earlier, she'd balked. Her arrival a week earlier, had startled him. He said nothing about her experience at the school. But know he wanted them to return and she did not understand his reasons for it. She questioned him but he evaded responding to her probes, feeling it wasn't his place to answer them.
But there was another reason, one he feared to admit existed.
Ever since meeting Lily and spending time in discussion with her, he knew Septina was right. Lily and Willow were one and the same.
How was he to tell this young woman he'd grown to love as a daughter, and who trusted him, that her whole life was a lie? That she had did years ago and her body had been appropriated by another person? A person with a mysterious heritage and powers?
Who had a son, a few years younger than she believed herself to be?
Aye, there was the rub.
"Giles, what's wrong? You're so silent, so pensive. Is it something I've done? Because I haven't seen you like this since Buffy's trial," her voice broke gently into his thoughts.
Forcing a smile onto his face, he merely guided her to the Headmaster's office. As they waited for the passage to be revealed, he squeezed her arm reassuringly. "It's nothing you've done, Willow, and I cannot speak of it now. I'll leave it to them to do so. Now remember, it is Headmaster Dumbledore, not Principal Dumbledore."
Nodding, she followed him up the stairs, amazed by what the gargoyle revealed. As they entered the office, she was astounded by the sheer number of astronomical devices and books lining the walls. Some that appeared to be as old as the school itself. "Are those real?" she whispered to Giles, pointing to them.
"Indeed they are, my dear," a merry voice replied. Looking upwards, they saw an elderly man with blue eyes that twinkled at them almost hypnotically. He smiled in welcome.
Willow had the strangest feeling that this man was more powerful that his genial persona suggested. And that she knew him from somewhere.
"I'm Albus Dumbledore," he introduced himself, descending to join them. "And you are Willow Rosenberg."
"How did you know that?"
"I've heard much about you from Remus and Professor MacGonagal. You gave her quite a scare, appearing as you did out of nowhere-especially considering your colorful past."
The faint disapproval in his voice colored her cheeks. "I didn't mean to. I never meant to get out of hand. And I am trying to get back on course."
"As long as you keep trying, we'll do our best to help you out while you're here." Brushing off his hands, as though they completed the first part of their deal. He sat down. "Now, would you think it presumptuous of me to say that you look as though you have no idea about the circumstances surrounding you. Or who all these crazy people you are being asked to blindly trust are?"
Willow shook her head, not really sure how to respond to him.
"I do not blame you. As a headmaster, I often find myself in the same situation."
"I mean no disrespect, sir, but what does that have to do with me? Giles won't say."
"And with good reason. The man has no real concept or grasp of what we are dealing with." A cool voice spoke from the door, "I thought that the proceedings weren't to start until we had all gathered?"
"Ah, Severus, so good to see you arrive on time. And take that disapproving scowl off your face, we are among comrades here."
The only sign of his disbelief was the raised eyebrow. But the potions master did as he was told and wiped his face clear, entering the room. Nodding at Giles, he folded himself into his seat, facing the three of them. Black eyes rested on Willow, faintly curious.
Again, she felt an odd sense of recognition. More so than when she'd met Albus. This man made her feel at home, like they'd been close once. "I know you," she mused softly.
"Do you now?" he faintly challenged her assumption.
"I thought I did. Now, I'm sure I do." Her look was sharp, "but you knew that already, didn't you?"
Instead of answering her, he faced Albus. "Shall I explain or do you want the pleasure?"
"I don't know if she knows enough to accept what we must tell her." The headmaster leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face.
"She knows enough. Look at her, she's no imbecile."
"That may be so, Severus. But she is new to our world."
"We've had this discussion many times before, Albus. I may bend when it comes to Potter's care-you do treat him shabbily, you know you do. And I do my best to lift that burden you so generously thrust on him and expect him to carry, alone, through the power of manipulation and guilt," Severus paused, realizing that he was getting overly emotional about this. "All right, Potter isn't my sole responsibility and he is lucky in his faithful comrades. But what we are speaking of is not going to be told to a child. Ms. Rosenberg should not be treated as such."
Turning to face her suddenly, he spoke directly to her. "Would you like to hear what is going on? If so, in a direct fashion or with as many mystifying illusions and bogged down vernacular designed only to confuse you?"
Willow's anger died as he turned the conversation to her deftly. As angry as she felt about their treatment of her, now that she was the focus of those deep eyes, words deserted her. But not for long. "You seem to know so much about me, talk and make it good. Make it so clear that even a child with the rudest of educations can understand your meaning, Severus."
"Professor Snape."
"Of what? Rudeness and inconsideration towards others 101?" she snapped.
He replied tersely, "potions. You can comprehend that?"
"I can. But you seem to excel at the other, overlooking me as you did."
"You could do with a few manners."
"Look whose talking, Mr. Snarky Pants," she was beginning to enjoy this.
"Snarky Pants?" He was gaping at her, unable to believe that this young woman was daring to make fun of him.
"Would you prefer I call you armored bottom? Straight laced old nanny? Maiden aunt? A vermicious knid?" Now, she was openly laughing at him.
"Your juvenile sense of humor amuses no one," he replied stiffly.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm enjoying this immensely," Albus chuckled. It wasn't often that he got a chance to see his ever in control potions professor flummoxed.
"And I love you too," she grinned.
"You barely know me," Snape remarked, after recovering his breath.
"But what I do, I love." She got down on one knee in front of him, grinning. "Let's get married."
"You are being incredibly flippant," he suppressed the desire to laugh.
"And you, overly robotic. Come now, truth time, Sevvie," she batted her lashes as she sat back down. "Tell me you don't want me."
"I hardly know you," he began.
"But what you know, you can't help but adore."
"And don't call me Sevvie. It is a ridiculous name," he finished.
She pouted, "but Severus is so formal for old friends."
"We are not old friends. We are barely acquaintances," he pointed out dryly.
As enjoyable as Albus found this, he decided that it was time to steer the conversation back to the reason Willow was there. "Charming as this courting ritual is, we have other things to speak of."
Willow instantly sobered, "you're right. I do not care to be kept in the dark-especially since I can see you have great need of me."
"Yes, our need for you is great, Ms. Rosenberg."
"Willow. My name is Willow," she interrupted him. "I will not be referred to in that smug voice of yours, Professor, as Ms. Rosenberg. My best years are still ahead of me. In fact, judging from your looks, they are still way ahead of me." She snickered at the outrage on his face.
Composing himself with effort, he spoke, "very well, Willow. You developed strong powers late in life. We know from records of your life and from Mr. Giles own testimony that none of your family is magic. This led us to a startling idea, that your powers derived from either an ancient power or the Hellmouth. Ruling out the Hellmouth as the source, we discovered that you are linked to the power of the dragon."
"As in Pendragon? The Arthurian legends? Interesting. Continue, you'll find in me a willing audience."
"But not willing to keep your mouth shut long enough to hear all I have to say?" he snapped, loosing patience.
"Temper, temper, Severus," she rebuked him.
"You will drive me mad, woman."
"Someone should, you old fusspot. You seem to be trying to convince everyone here that you are the living dead-without the life part."
"Enough!" Giles roared, finally loosing his temper. "Would you two behave yourselves like the adults you pretend to be instead of children needing a nanny?"
They flushed guiltily and mumbled a bit. "I expected better of you, Willow, than this endless baiting. I have never been ashamed of you until now. You disappoint me, you really do."
Tears filled her green eyes, "I'm sorry, Giles. I meant no harm."
"Neither did I. I should not have provoked her," Severus was still for a moment, "it's just that she reminds me of my friend, Lily. I couldn't resist seeing if she had the same buttons that were so easy to push."
"That is no excuse for such behavior-especially when you found mine so lacking at our first meeting." Giles retorted, getting up. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. Willow, when they've finished speaking to you, please get me. I'll either be with Remus or outside."
"This Lily, you've mention, I find the name vaguely familiar. Is she your wife?" it was spoken in a soft, non confrontational voice, after she'd watched Giles leave.
His head shook, "she was a dear friend of mine who died."
Willow gasped, "I'm sorry to come here and bring up such painful memories."
"It was sixteen years ago. I've had time to recover," he shrugged.
"But not to heal nor accept," she commented, "and it doesn't matter how long when a loved one dies. That is a wound that never really heals."
"You have an interesting insight into death for one so young."
"I have seen much of it, even caused it," Willow held back tears. Memories still fresh and new, rippled through her on waves of pain.
After a few moments, Severus decided to finish his explanation. "She was the only known bearer of the dragon's power. Until you came along and accessed it," he stopped, hoping she'd pick up on the connection.
Willow didn't disappoint, "she was doing something that I need to finish. No, wait. That isn't quite right." Facing him, she pressed for more information. "How did she die? Really?"
"She was killed. Protecting me," a tremulous voice spoke from the door.
Turning around, her eyes meet a pair of green ones, so like her own. Something inside of her soul, stretched tight throughout the passing years, snapped, catapulting her towards its starting point. Pain pressed upon her, squeezing the air out of her body. Gasping, shaking, retching up her stomach's contents, all she could do was writhe in mindless agony.
"Willow?" Albus' voice broke through the strained silence that descended after her ordeal had ceased.
"And the two shall reunite and the dragon will walk the earth again." She murmured, "destruction shall walk in front and death behind, dealing out its awful dance to all who oppose the dragon."
Raising weary eyes to Severus, her grin was crooked. "Unless another way is found, all hope is lost for I will purge the world and start anew, as I and my ancestors have done before."
Turning once more to Harry, her arms reached out for him. "Oh, my precious son."
"Mum?" He took a tentative step forward.
"Yes. And do you have any idea how odd it is for me to have a son four years younger than myself?" She chocked, even as her arms enfolded him into her embrace. "It is good to be physical again, though I must find out what some of these "Americanisms" floating through my head are, Some of them are highly entertaining."
"Really?" Professor Snape's voice revealed his inability to accept that anything from America could be described as entertaining.
Facing Severus, she frowned, "Stop being such a fussy, narrow-minded, old bigot, Sev." Her eyes suddenly twinkled.
Severus had the oddest feeling he should run. Fast.
The green eyes stopped him before thought became deed. "Now that I'm me again, will you marry me?" Then, she fainted.
***
Is there anyone out there reading this? If so, answer this, is Septina a Mary Sue? And, if she is, how should I fix her so that she's not?
Giles walked into Hogwarts, a demure Willow by his side. He knew that that exterior would not last long. And he hoped that when it broke, Albus Dumbledore would be there. With uncanny insight into people he barely knew, save through Remus, he knew that they would not appreciate her unrestrained effervescence.
When he'd proposed a return to Hogwarts two days earlier, she'd balked. Her arrival a week earlier, had startled him. He said nothing about her experience at the school. But know he wanted them to return and she did not understand his reasons for it. She questioned him but he evaded responding to her probes, feeling it wasn't his place to answer them.
But there was another reason, one he feared to admit existed.
Ever since meeting Lily and spending time in discussion with her, he knew Septina was right. Lily and Willow were one and the same.
How was he to tell this young woman he'd grown to love as a daughter, and who trusted him, that her whole life was a lie? That she had did years ago and her body had been appropriated by another person? A person with a mysterious heritage and powers?
Who had a son, a few years younger than she believed herself to be?
Aye, there was the rub.
"Giles, what's wrong? You're so silent, so pensive. Is it something I've done? Because I haven't seen you like this since Buffy's trial," her voice broke gently into his thoughts.
Forcing a smile onto his face, he merely guided her to the Headmaster's office. As they waited for the passage to be revealed, he squeezed her arm reassuringly. "It's nothing you've done, Willow, and I cannot speak of it now. I'll leave it to them to do so. Now remember, it is Headmaster Dumbledore, not Principal Dumbledore."
Nodding, she followed him up the stairs, amazed by what the gargoyle revealed. As they entered the office, she was astounded by the sheer number of astronomical devices and books lining the walls. Some that appeared to be as old as the school itself. "Are those real?" she whispered to Giles, pointing to them.
"Indeed they are, my dear," a merry voice replied. Looking upwards, they saw an elderly man with blue eyes that twinkled at them almost hypnotically. He smiled in welcome.
Willow had the strangest feeling that this man was more powerful that his genial persona suggested. And that she knew him from somewhere.
"I'm Albus Dumbledore," he introduced himself, descending to join them. "And you are Willow Rosenberg."
"How did you know that?"
"I've heard much about you from Remus and Professor MacGonagal. You gave her quite a scare, appearing as you did out of nowhere-especially considering your colorful past."
The faint disapproval in his voice colored her cheeks. "I didn't mean to. I never meant to get out of hand. And I am trying to get back on course."
"As long as you keep trying, we'll do our best to help you out while you're here." Brushing off his hands, as though they completed the first part of their deal. He sat down. "Now, would you think it presumptuous of me to say that you look as though you have no idea about the circumstances surrounding you. Or who all these crazy people you are being asked to blindly trust are?"
Willow shook her head, not really sure how to respond to him.
"I do not blame you. As a headmaster, I often find myself in the same situation."
"I mean no disrespect, sir, but what does that have to do with me? Giles won't say."
"And with good reason. The man has no real concept or grasp of what we are dealing with." A cool voice spoke from the door, "I thought that the proceedings weren't to start until we had all gathered?"
"Ah, Severus, so good to see you arrive on time. And take that disapproving scowl off your face, we are among comrades here."
The only sign of his disbelief was the raised eyebrow. But the potions master did as he was told and wiped his face clear, entering the room. Nodding at Giles, he folded himself into his seat, facing the three of them. Black eyes rested on Willow, faintly curious.
Again, she felt an odd sense of recognition. More so than when she'd met Albus. This man made her feel at home, like they'd been close once. "I know you," she mused softly.
"Do you now?" he faintly challenged her assumption.
"I thought I did. Now, I'm sure I do." Her look was sharp, "but you knew that already, didn't you?"
Instead of answering her, he faced Albus. "Shall I explain or do you want the pleasure?"
"I don't know if she knows enough to accept what we must tell her." The headmaster leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face.
"She knows enough. Look at her, she's no imbecile."
"That may be so, Severus. But she is new to our world."
"We've had this discussion many times before, Albus. I may bend when it comes to Potter's care-you do treat him shabbily, you know you do. And I do my best to lift that burden you so generously thrust on him and expect him to carry, alone, through the power of manipulation and guilt," Severus paused, realizing that he was getting overly emotional about this. "All right, Potter isn't my sole responsibility and he is lucky in his faithful comrades. But what we are speaking of is not going to be told to a child. Ms. Rosenberg should not be treated as such."
Turning to face her suddenly, he spoke directly to her. "Would you like to hear what is going on? If so, in a direct fashion or with as many mystifying illusions and bogged down vernacular designed only to confuse you?"
Willow's anger died as he turned the conversation to her deftly. As angry as she felt about their treatment of her, now that she was the focus of those deep eyes, words deserted her. But not for long. "You seem to know so much about me, talk and make it good. Make it so clear that even a child with the rudest of educations can understand your meaning, Severus."
"Professor Snape."
"Of what? Rudeness and inconsideration towards others 101?" she snapped.
He replied tersely, "potions. You can comprehend that?"
"I can. But you seem to excel at the other, overlooking me as you did."
"You could do with a few manners."
"Look whose talking, Mr. Snarky Pants," she was beginning to enjoy this.
"Snarky Pants?" He was gaping at her, unable to believe that this young woman was daring to make fun of him.
"Would you prefer I call you armored bottom? Straight laced old nanny? Maiden aunt? A vermicious knid?" Now, she was openly laughing at him.
"Your juvenile sense of humor amuses no one," he replied stiffly.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm enjoying this immensely," Albus chuckled. It wasn't often that he got a chance to see his ever in control potions professor flummoxed.
"And I love you too," she grinned.
"You barely know me," Snape remarked, after recovering his breath.
"But what I do, I love." She got down on one knee in front of him, grinning. "Let's get married."
"You are being incredibly flippant," he suppressed the desire to laugh.
"And you, overly robotic. Come now, truth time, Sevvie," she batted her lashes as she sat back down. "Tell me you don't want me."
"I hardly know you," he began.
"But what you know, you can't help but adore."
"And don't call me Sevvie. It is a ridiculous name," he finished.
She pouted, "but Severus is so formal for old friends."
"We are not old friends. We are barely acquaintances," he pointed out dryly.
As enjoyable as Albus found this, he decided that it was time to steer the conversation back to the reason Willow was there. "Charming as this courting ritual is, we have other things to speak of."
Willow instantly sobered, "you're right. I do not care to be kept in the dark-especially since I can see you have great need of me."
"Yes, our need for you is great, Ms. Rosenberg."
"Willow. My name is Willow," she interrupted him. "I will not be referred to in that smug voice of yours, Professor, as Ms. Rosenberg. My best years are still ahead of me. In fact, judging from your looks, they are still way ahead of me." She snickered at the outrage on his face.
Composing himself with effort, he spoke, "very well, Willow. You developed strong powers late in life. We know from records of your life and from Mr. Giles own testimony that none of your family is magic. This led us to a startling idea, that your powers derived from either an ancient power or the Hellmouth. Ruling out the Hellmouth as the source, we discovered that you are linked to the power of the dragon."
"As in Pendragon? The Arthurian legends? Interesting. Continue, you'll find in me a willing audience."
"But not willing to keep your mouth shut long enough to hear all I have to say?" he snapped, loosing patience.
"Temper, temper, Severus," she rebuked him.
"You will drive me mad, woman."
"Someone should, you old fusspot. You seem to be trying to convince everyone here that you are the living dead-without the life part."
"Enough!" Giles roared, finally loosing his temper. "Would you two behave yourselves like the adults you pretend to be instead of children needing a nanny?"
They flushed guiltily and mumbled a bit. "I expected better of you, Willow, than this endless baiting. I have never been ashamed of you until now. You disappoint me, you really do."
Tears filled her green eyes, "I'm sorry, Giles. I meant no harm."
"Neither did I. I should not have provoked her," Severus was still for a moment, "it's just that she reminds me of my friend, Lily. I couldn't resist seeing if she had the same buttons that were so easy to push."
"That is no excuse for such behavior-especially when you found mine so lacking at our first meeting." Giles retorted, getting up. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. Willow, when they've finished speaking to you, please get me. I'll either be with Remus or outside."
"This Lily, you've mention, I find the name vaguely familiar. Is she your wife?" it was spoken in a soft, non confrontational voice, after she'd watched Giles leave.
His head shook, "she was a dear friend of mine who died."
Willow gasped, "I'm sorry to come here and bring up such painful memories."
"It was sixteen years ago. I've had time to recover," he shrugged.
"But not to heal nor accept," she commented, "and it doesn't matter how long when a loved one dies. That is a wound that never really heals."
"You have an interesting insight into death for one so young."
"I have seen much of it, even caused it," Willow held back tears. Memories still fresh and new, rippled through her on waves of pain.
After a few moments, Severus decided to finish his explanation. "She was the only known bearer of the dragon's power. Until you came along and accessed it," he stopped, hoping she'd pick up on the connection.
Willow didn't disappoint, "she was doing something that I need to finish. No, wait. That isn't quite right." Facing him, she pressed for more information. "How did she die? Really?"
"She was killed. Protecting me," a tremulous voice spoke from the door.
Turning around, her eyes meet a pair of green ones, so like her own. Something inside of her soul, stretched tight throughout the passing years, snapped, catapulting her towards its starting point. Pain pressed upon her, squeezing the air out of her body. Gasping, shaking, retching up her stomach's contents, all she could do was writhe in mindless agony.
"Willow?" Albus' voice broke through the strained silence that descended after her ordeal had ceased.
"And the two shall reunite and the dragon will walk the earth again." She murmured, "destruction shall walk in front and death behind, dealing out its awful dance to all who oppose the dragon."
Raising weary eyes to Severus, her grin was crooked. "Unless another way is found, all hope is lost for I will purge the world and start anew, as I and my ancestors have done before."
Turning once more to Harry, her arms reached out for him. "Oh, my precious son."
"Mum?" He took a tentative step forward.
"Yes. And do you have any idea how odd it is for me to have a son four years younger than myself?" She chocked, even as her arms enfolded him into her embrace. "It is good to be physical again, though I must find out what some of these "Americanisms" floating through my head are, Some of them are highly entertaining."
"Really?" Professor Snape's voice revealed his inability to accept that anything from America could be described as entertaining.
Facing Severus, she frowned, "Stop being such a fussy, narrow-minded, old bigot, Sev." Her eyes suddenly twinkled.
Severus had the oddest feeling he should run. Fast.
The green eyes stopped him before thought became deed. "Now that I'm me again, will you marry me?" Then, she fainted.
***
Is there anyone out there reading this? If so, answer this, is Septina a Mary Sue? And, if she is, how should I fix her so that she's not?