The ball of ice in Dawn's stomach kept expanding, even though the corridors of the school felt very warm..
She knew she shouldn't be nervous. She had learned everything she needed to know about the sorting and the houses. Hermione had explained things to her several times. She had been over the relevant passages in Hogwarts: A History, Magical Institutions of Europe, and The Compendium of Wizard Education. She had discussed it with Professor Flitwick, who cheered her up by so desperately wanting her in Ravenclaw.
Her fear, she decided early on, really had two pieces. The first was natural: once she was sorted, her assignment began in earnest. She needed to meet people as quickly as possible. That way, when Willow deciphered the prophecy Dawn would be able to pinpoint likely candidates very early.
The second was much worse: what if she landed in Slytherin?
Snape hated her. She hated Snape. Placement in his house would make the year one torture after another, no matter what her real assignment might be. The Potions Master was the most surly man she had ever met, entirely without a sense of humor or even a spark of friendliness. Coming to Harry's defense had been a major error, as Harry himself explained soon after. Not that she wouldn't do it again. She'd rather be on Harry's side than Snape's any day.
Unfortunately, Slytherin was the most likely house for someone with world of darkness delusions.
With that cheerful thought in mind, Dawn propped herself against the wall just inside the dining hall. The train had pulled up only thirty minutes earlier; none of the students had entered yet, but most of the faculty had gathered at the head table already. Willow half-stood to wave at her, and Harry and Ron offered reassuring smiles.
She didn't have to wait very long. A stampede of students burst through the doors and fanned out to the tables for their respective houses. The house decorations and floating candles looked splendid. Professor Dumbledore had explained that the opening night was his favorite of the year, and the rush of excitement emanating from the student body made her see why.
When everyone had taken their seats, McGonagall led the double line of first-years down the center aisle. They looked as nervous as Dawn felt, which perversely made her feel a little better. As ordered, she took a place at the end of the line. The last student, a tiny first-year girl with brown hair to her waist, looked up in awe with huge blue eyes.
"Your s'posed ta be at the tables," she whispered in a voice no bigger than her.
"It's okay. I'm new, too." Dawn smiled. "Are you scared?"
The girl nodded vigorously.
"Don't be, sweetie. See the professor with the bushy brown hair?" Dawn gestured to Hermione. "She's a friend of mine, and she told me all about it. It doesn't even hurt."
"You sure?"
"Uh huh."
"Okay." The girl showed brilliant white teeth. "My name's Marisa. What's yours?"
"I'm Dawn." She looked up; the Sorting Hat was finishing its song. "Okay, Marisa. Time to shine."
Marisa smiled again, then turned back to wait for her name to be called.
McGonagall ran through the list rapidly. Every first year seemed very nervous at the start and very relieved by the time they reached their tables. Dawn couldn't help thinking how cute they were. She really hoped none of them was looking to invoke Dumbledore's goddess.
After a short few minutes, Dawn heard McGonagall call "Zahn, Marisa" and saw the tiny slip of a girl sorted into Gryffindor. Okay, she thought, come on Dawn. Here goes. Buffy wouldn't be scared of a stupid hat, would she? Heck, no.
Just as she geared up to move forward, Dumbledore's voice shattered her reverie.
"Ah yes, good evening, good evening. Welcome, all of you, new and old, old and new, or even those like me, who are simply old." A titter passed through the crowd, though many of them stared with open curiosity at Dawn still standing in the center aisle. "Before we feast and you graciously lend your ears to another year's worth of my prattle, allow me to explain why there is a lovely young lady standing in the center of our feast." Dawn flushed bright red. "The young lady is Miss Dawn Summers, late of Sunnydale, California. Miss Summers discovered her magical talents only very recently. She has spent the summer catching up, as it were, and will be joining us for what would be her seventh year at Hogwarts. I would ask that you be patient with her, as this is her first experience in the Wizarding world."
Nothing like blending in, she thought, wishing they had sorted her in Dumbledore's office as Hermione had suggested.
"As with all of us, she first needs to be sorted before her education can begin. Dawn? If you would be so kind as to take up the Sorting Hat, please."
She gulped and walked slowly to the stool. Every eye in the room followed her and the accompanying whispers were not, in her opinion, very whispery. She perched herself on the stool, carefully rearranging her black robes, and slid her head into the hat.
"Ah, yes. Much potential here. Talent to be a great witch. Talent must always be put to use, and I see you've chosen noble uses for yours. Plenty of well-worn courage and confidence, too, eh? Brains also, knowledge aplenty and the thirst to learn. Were it up to me you would be a fine Gryffindor, a champion of that noble house."
Oh no, Dawn thought, a picture of a snarling Snape appearing in her head. It is up to you. It's so up to you. Don't do this, don't do this, don't …
"But it is not, for I know the one you seek. To find that one you must be in …"
Aloud, it shouted "Slytherin!"
Ron spit pumpkin juice all over the table.
Hermione gasped, first at the announcement and then at Ron.
"Oh, Dawnie," Willow whispered.
Harry shook his head grimly. "That's not good."
Looking stunned, Dawn made her way to the Slytherin table. The strange looks and glares that greeted her were not at all friendly.
Willow risked a glance at Snape. A small muscle in his jaw seemed to be twitching. She knew that wasn't a good sign.
"There's no way Dawn got sorted there on her own," Harry said to Willow, leaning close to her ear. "The sorting hat's got some weird things going on. It knows things. I bet anything that it put her there because of the mission."
"The hat knows things?"
"Uh huh."
"This place is of the weird, you know that, right?"
"Sometimes, I'm very glad for it. Other times?" He shrugged. "Less so. She'll be alright, though. Snape's easier on his own house."
"Slytherin, though. Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Don't," he said to Hermione, whose mouth was half open to warn him about his language, "'cos now's a perfect time to say bloody hell."
Further down the table, Snape's jaw kept twitching.
Willow, Ron, Harry, and Hermione watched the last of the students file out after the meal. Dawn looked so miserable that Willow had to resist the urge to sprint across the floor and give her a hug. She made a mental note to owl Buffy and Giles and get them to send Dawn care packages. Cookies might help.
"So," Harry said, snapping her reverie, "we should get this done tonight, right?"
"Better to get the whole mess over with an' get whatever it is gone quick," Ron agreed.
"We must stop by my quarters first," Hermione said.
"What for?"
"Ginny gave me something for you two, that's what for, and I think you'd like to have it."
"What is it?"
"I'll show you when we get there, Ron."
"Jus' tell us, 'Mione."
"No. Now come on."
Ron badgered her for the whole walk. Hermione steadfastly refused to tell him what the surprise was, contenting herself with a maddening grin. Harry and Willow shared smirks behind their hands. Willow was starting to suspect that there was more between Ron and Hermione than just friendship, but she refrained from asking with them standing right there.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry shared an alcove of three faculty suites near the Gryffindor tower. Hermione's door, the left one, featured a painting of a prim young woman bent over a writing table. She gave them an irritated look until she saw Hermione.
"Password, my lady?"
"Elvish welfare," she whispered. She didn't want Harry and Ron to hear it and give her their normal dose of grief. The door swung open and she led them inside.
"Cor, Mione! What'd you do, raid the restricted section?" Ron said as they entered, gaping as his eyes scanned the room.
Every possible surface had been crammed with books. All the volumes rested in neat stacks on their various tables and couches, but the room held an ocean of paper. Harry parked his chair in the doorway, knowing he lacked the finesse to roll in without knocking anything over.
"Wow. Even Giles' apartment wasn't this full," Willow said. "You're research gal, huh?"
"I like to be able to find things if I need to," Hermione said, slightly embarrassed. "Wait here. I'll get what I need from my bedroom." She disappeared through another door in the far wall.
"This is so cool!" Willow said, browsing through the titles stacked on the couch. Ron couldn't find a seat. He settled for leaning between the door and the arm of Harry's chair. It was a tight fit.
"D'you mind, Ron? We're good friends, but this chair is built for one, y'know?"
"Sorry. Jus' tryin' not to fall over," Ron said, standing back up and leaning on the door frame. "You're big into books, too?" He asked Willow.
"Yeah," she answered absently. "We don't have stuff like this at the Council. Look at this one: Prophecies and Portents: A Linguist's Guide. I wonder…" She gingerly removed it from the stack and started thumbing through.
"We should compare that one to the scroll," Hermione said, coming back into the room with three packages wrapped in brown paper. "It might have some similarities in grammar usage, or possibly a phonetic association that could …"
"Mione, please," Ron cut her off. "We've got enough to do tonight without you doin' the know-it-all bit."
Hermione frowned. Her brown eyes suddenly looked quite sad.
Ron didn't notice until Harry jabbed him with an elbow. Then he saw the look.
"Ah, geez, I'm sorry, Mione, I didn't mean anythin' by it. I just meant that we can talk prophecy later. We have to talk Death Eater now, okay?"
She nodded, but the sadness didn't leave her eyes. Ron wanted to kick himself. Why did he always have to go and say dumb stuff like that to her?
"Here," she said softly, "from Ginny." She tossed both Ron and Harry a package and kept one for herself.
"Are these what I think they are?" Harry asked.
"Yes." She looked at Willow. "Could you step out for a minute? We just need to throw these on and then we can go."
Willow nodded. Harry backed into the hall to let her by, then rolled into the room and shut the door.
Willow could hardly believe it was the same three people.
They had donned utilitarian robes colored a very dark red. Capes dyed an equally dark shade of blue hung from their shoulders, clasped at the neck by a small gold talisman with an engraving she hadn't been able to see. Even with Harry in his chair and the bulky bandage on Ron's arm peeking through, they bore an unmistakable air of power.
She suddenly had no trouble believing that the three people with her could handle any threat that came their way.
As they strode towards the forest, she tried to discreetly glance at the engraving on Harry's clasp.
"It's a lightning bolt," he said without looking at her.
Embarrassed, she quickly turned away. At least it was dark and he couldn't see the blush.
"I was being that obvious, huh?"
"A bit, yeah."
"Is it because of your scar?"
"Something like that." He sounded distracted, and his eyes never the left the dark line of the forest ahead of them.
"It's a bit of a tale," Hermione added. "The symbol on the clasp of an auror's cloak denotes his or her brotherhood. It's rather like the houses here at Hogwarts, in a sense, though there are actually six brotherhoods, and you need to serve for a decade to join one."
"And you guys are what, the Brotherhood of the Lightning Bolt or something?" Willow could see the small bolt on Hermione's clasp as well.
"Not exactly," Ron said, chuckling.
"Being retired, we aren't in any of the brotherhoods. We also didn't serve long enough to be inducted in the first place."
"So what's with the lightning?"
"D'you remember what we said about the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked, his eyes still on the approaching trees.
"Uh huh."
"We weren't always in the Order."
"Told us we were too young," Ron said. "Shows what they know."
"We were too young," Hermione said. When Harry and Ron both looked at her with disgust, she amended, "or at least we weren't ready at the start. Anyway," she turned to Willow, "when they wouldn't let us into the Order of the Phoenix at first, these two decided they would form their own group."
"And that was in no way dangerous," Willow said, shaking her head. "Not that I can really point fingers, since I was probably about to date robots and hunt vampires at that point, but still."
"Date robots?" Ron's eyebrows rose.
"Not important, not important. You were saying about the … uh … oh, yeah, Order of the Phoenix and the clasps?" She flushed red again; in the moonlight, Harry noticed and restrained a grin.
"Well," Hermione went on, "as I said, they decided to begin their own order, the Order of Lightning. I made these clasps later, during auror training. Normally trainees and younger aurors wear plain ones, but I decided it would be a nice remembrance. Every member of the Order of Lightning wore them until we left. Ginny's still got hers, and she made some new ones for us. She sent them with these cloaks," she added, fingering her dark blue cape. "I guess Professor Dumbledore briefed her and Draco on the prophecy in case we needed official auror help."
"That was sweet of her," Willow said with a smile.
"Ginny's the best," Ron agreed. Then he grimaced. "How she ever ended up with a pillock like Malfoy for a partner, I have no bloody clue."
"Oh, Ron, please. It's been years since they started working together. If you gave Draco a chance for once …"
"Thank god it's just workin'," Ron broke in. "Mum thought they were dating last year, remember that, Harry? I'd've killed him myself."
"I remember. Just because you've forgiven him, Hermione, doesn't mean we have to. Good guy or not, the ferret is still a ruddy prat," Harry replied.
Ron nodded solemnly. Hermione met Willow's eyes and shook her head in exasperation, which set the redhead chuckling. This Draco Malfoy must be a piece of work. She would have to meet him sometime.
They walked the rest of the way to the tree line in silence. When they reached the shadow of the tall oaks, the hairs on the back of Willow's neck stood up. The evil in the forest seemed to call out to her; she could feel her magic rising involuntarily. Her stomach knotted as she started to panic.
"All right, Willow?" Harry asked. The redhead had gone stiff the moment they entered the forest.
"So very not. This place … this is an evil place." She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. A moment of focus brought her magic back under tight control.
"They don't call it the Dark Forest for nothin'." Hermione glared at Ron. "What? Jus' saying it's bad, alright."
"You can head back in if you want," Harry said as Willow opened her eyes. "We can handle whatever's in there."
"N-no. Professor Dumbledore wanted me to go with you. Besides, if I ran away every time I got the wig from my magic, I'd be … something not very good, I guess. You know what I mean."
Harry nodded. "If that's how you feel. But don't stay on our account."
"We can handle it," Ron said.
"Uh uh," she said, shaking her head, "I'm way in. Period." The conviction she forced into her force was as much for her as it was for them.
"Okay." Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. "Dumbledore told me where the unicorn was found. At the south end, where we are now, and not too deep. We should got to the spot, then do a sweep around. If … whatever did this is still hanging about, they'll probably be close by."
"We don't … think it's Voldemort, do we Harry?" Hermione asked.
"I sure as hell don't."
"Me either," Ron said, though he sounded less than convinced and gulped audibly at the end of the sentence.
"Isn't he dead?" Willow asked.
"He is. His followers make trouble, though, and this is a direct challenge to the three of us and Dumbledore. Makes it likely that it's a Death Eater," Harry answered. They had already briefed Willow on Voldemort's unicorn attacks.
"Pairs?" Ron asked.
"Yeah. I'll go with Willow. You guys lead off – this stupid thing," he gestured at the wheelchair, "makes it slow going."
"Be careful, Harry," Hermione said with concern. She and Ron turned and made their way into the forest with drawn wands.
"Harry, how are you going to … oh, right, the Professor X thing," Willow said as Harry's chair lifted a few inches above the ground.
"Who?"
"Professor X? Bald guy, floating chair? From the X-men?"
"Sorry."
"I guess people who don't grow up with Xander don't know this stuff automatically."
"Guess not." He gave her a puzzled expression, then led her after his two friends. This late at night, the moon barely penetrated the treetops. Darkness closed in around them like a blanket. After a few seconds of that, Willow tried a light spell, but Harry stopped her. He wanted to avoid giving their position away too soon. They moved in total silence for ten minutes before they heard Hermione's shouts.
"Ron, look …"
A loud crash cut her off.
"Mione! You son of a bitch! STUPEFY!"
"Come on!" Harry yelled at Willow, rocketing off towards the sound of Ron's voice. In seconds, they broke through into the clearing where the unicorn had been found. The sight so startled Harry that his concentration broke and his chair fell to the earth with a soft plop.
Ghostly magical chains bound Hermione to one of the larger oak trees. Wandless, she was struggling to get free without success. Ron lay on the ground near her, moaning softly and clutching his injured arm. From the grimace, Harry could tell he was hurt bad.
Icy tones pierced his brain.
"Hello, young Potter. I see you're looking as well as the papers claimed."
Harry's eyes widened. That voice … that voice couldn't be here, now, spilling out coldly from a tall man in a dark, hooded robe. That voice … that man was dead. Very dead.
"The famous Harry Potter reduced to nothing more than a crippled child. The irony is delicious. I suppose that oaf finally found my calling card, and Dumbledore predictably sent you to investigate. Are you surprised to see me, Potter? Did you learn nothing before? Death is not nearly as permanent as it once was."
Beside Harry, Willow felt him tense. She tried to relax, but evil pulsed from the dark figure like a heartbeat.
"Harry?"
"It can't be," he whispered, "he's dead."
"Is it Voldemort?"
A burst of red light erupted from the stranger's wand. It slammed into Willow's chest with the force of a speeding bullet and knocked her back into the forest.
"You do NOT say the name of the Dark Lord, witch. You have no right.
Hearing Willow cry out shook Harry from his reverie.
"I do." Harry brought his wand up. "I killed the bastard. Unlike you, he has had the good sense to stay dead, Lucius."
"You're so certain you'll best me again? I have powers you can't imagine, Potter."
Harry decided instantly to skip the banter. Malfoy was too dangerous for that. "IMPEDIMENTA!"
He blocked Harry's spell and grinned beneath his hood.
"I think not. PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
Harry tried to block, but with the chair under him he couldn't get his position quite correct. As the spell hit him, he cursed his stupidity at not practicing dueling since landing in the chair. His body froze in place, half-spilled from his seat. He rolled the rest of the way and landed on the ground.
Hermione and Ron both gasped.
"Oh, please. Were I here to kill you, you would be dead already. That would be pointless. I am merely here to put you fools on notice that we have returned, and that you will suffer pain as I have suffered. Pain you can't imagine. Nothing you an do will stop us from …" He trailed off, openly staring at the figure emerging from the woods behind Harry.
"What's the matter? Super villain speech not quite as good as you hoped?"
Willow's voice was several octaves too low. Ron could see that her eyes were solid black. He had no idea why, but he could feel her drawing on her power. Her wand was nowhere in sight.
"CRUCIO!"
Willow raised a hand and waved; the spell winked out.
"Please." She laughed haughtily. In her deeper voice, the laugh was frightening. "Sit." She waved her hand and sent him tumbling to the floor. The hood fell back, revealing a pale face covered with heavy scars and framed by long white-blond hair.
"It is Malfoy?" Ron said. "Damn."
"This is your sister's partner?" Willow asked, her eyes never leaving the man on the ground. She could feel him struggle as she held him with her magic.
"Nah, this is his dad, Lucius Malfoy." Ron hauled himself up to a sitting position and raised his wand. "Thought you were dead, you Death Eater bastard."
"Death is far from the end of things, Weasley," Malfoy hissed. Willow relaxed her grip to let him talk. They might, after all, learn something useful. "As you will soon learn, there are more powerful forces at work than mere death. MORSMORDRE!"
A shower of green sparks cascaded from his wand into the clearing, blinding all of them. They heard an odd swishing sound, and Willow felt her grip slip away.
When Ron opened his eyes, Malfoy had vanished, leaving only his mark behind.