For a Disclaimer, see first chapter.

Hi everyone thanks for the reviews!!! They were all so cool and nice, and I think you guys know who the father is…wink. 

Good to know my description was good…Seshiru Hikari!!!

Sam-453!!! Update you stupid woman!!! Forget AS, its not important anyways…forget A levels they are not important for your future.  What is important is that you update!!!  I will get angry…hehe…dimples!!!

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Buffy woke up in a warm comfortable bed, the covers drawn up to her shoulders.  She sighed; she did not want to wake up just yet.  This was perfect, pure bliss, being pain free for the first time in two weeks. 

"Buffy?" 

Buffy's eyes popped and she looked to the side.  There, sitting there in the same bowler hat and large duster was the man at the café, looking expectantly up at her.

"How do you know my name?"  Buffy demanded, tensing.  She may feel weak at this very moment, but she knew she was still stronger than an ordinary man, especially this man.

He made the funny laughing noise again, and held out his hand to her, it was rough, and Buffy glanced at it suspiciously before accepting his hand.

"Do you have a name?"  Buffy asked.  The man considered it for a second, inclining his head to look at Buffy.

"Alastor.  You may call me Alastor."

Buffy smiled, liking this man even more than she had before.  "How do you know my name, Alastor?"  She asked. 

"I brought you into the hospital kid.  They checked in the criminal records for your name."  Buffy looked down in shame, hating the fact that Alastor was probably judging her on her criminal record.  Alastor caught her shame and tapped her on the shoulder, trying to be comforting, but failing miserably.  "It's pretty long kid, but I ain't judging on that, do not worry."  Alastor smiled, the slit in his face tilting up.  Buffy smiled, saying 'thank you'.  Alastor stood up, bowing and tilting his hat to Buffy; which Buffy laughed at, and bid her good day, Buffy doing the same also.  With that, he left Buffy to her own thoughts, the room silent.

It had been a whirlwind of weeks-screw that, months.  And Buffy knew exactly when things had gotten bad.  When she had slept with Angel, thereby making him experience perfect happiness and loosing his soul.  In a way, it was sweet and touching that Buffy was his moment of perfect bliss, but then, Buffy was reminded of the hellish months that followed.  Heartbreak, losing people you love and hold dear.  It was hell, those months.  And it finished in a big bang.  Her mother kicking her out of the house, and the worst part, she sent her first love to hell.

The moment she had found out that Angel had turned evil-she had known deep down that she had to kill him.  When she had faced the Judge and had tried to kill him, she had found that she had so much love for Angel that she couldn't.  But she knew she had to.  The face still reminded her of him, of his angelic qualities, of the vampire she loved with all her heart.  She had known it would take time to stop loving him, it would take time to learn how to kill him, but by the time she had faced Angelus in the mansion, she had learned enough to know that this man was not Angel.  He was Angelus, an evil vampire, and Angel was never coming back. 

Buffy had been ready then, to kill Angelus-but that curse.  That curse made her falter.  She remembered it as if it had happened yesterday, one moment they had been fighting, the next, he was her Angel.  The one she had loved; the one she still loved.  The moment that he had regained his soul, she had paused.  Would it have been so bad not to kill him?  I love him so much; I don't think I would be able to.  But then Buffy had looked behind him, and had seen Acathla opening, and she knew that she had to kill him.  It was her duty, her destiny, and destiny didn't take excuses from young girls in love.

After that, Buffy had run.  When she had started, she didn't know where she was going to end up, but she knew she had to get away from Sunnydale.  Too many memories, too many people she knew…she had to get away.  So Buffy had packed a bag, written a note to her mother and had taken the bus out of Sunnydale, into the big city of Los Angeles.  And there she had stayed, using the money she had to rent an apartment in the backstreets of LA, paying the rent with the money she earned at the café.  She barely had money to eat; the meal they offered free at the café was the only thing she had to satisfy her hunger. 

There was of course the issue of slaying.  She saw vampires on the streets when she walked back to her apartment at night, but she had turned a blind eye on it.  In her opinion, The Powers That Be had asked too much of her.  First, she had to die at the hands of the Master, she had to suffer through all the hell that all the demons and vampires had put her through, and then she had to kill Angel.  No, this slayer was hanging up her hat.  Kendra had died; another slayer would have been called, so they can take up the job.  Let them be the ones everyone depended on, everyone turned to when they needed help. 

Buffy did not feel selfish.  She did not think her actions were selfish.  For two years she had been thinking of everyone BUT herself.  That was enough.  It was time for a little Buffy time.

Buffy just wanted to be normal.

***

"Mrs Summers?"  Joyce looked for the owner of the voice, and sighed in relief when she found it.  The woman at the desk was petite, with red hair and a kind smile.  Joyce motioned for her former lover, Buffy's real father to follow her, and he scowled.  Joyce had forgotten how much he hated muggle hospitals.  Joyce had given birth to Buffy in a muggle hospital, because of complications the father was in.  The scowl he wore on his face was the exact same one he wore all those years ago.

"Hello, yes I am Mrs Summers."  Joyce said, smiling back at the woman. 

The woman nodded and looked at her computer, her eyes searching for something.  She pressed a couple of keys on the computer, and Buffy's father's scowl grew.  He hated not knowing what was going on.  He just wanted to see his daughter.  Joyce had told him that she did not know that Hank was not her real father, the wizarding world and the potion 'Per Celare'.

"Yes, Buffy Anne Summers.  She arrived here two days ago, after collapsing at a café in the back streets of LA.  A kind man brought her in, Alastor Moody."  His head immediately snapped up, Alastor Moody, the Auror, a member of the Order of the Phoenix.  The woman carried on, not noticing his sudden increased interest.  "We are not sure what trigged the collapse, we have run a few tests, and we will need your permission to run some more.  But other than that, I hear she woke up a couple of hours ago.  The man, Alastor has already seen her, he's left already unfortunately.  I think you'll be able to see her now."  Joyce squealed, reminding him of a school girl, and he took her hand and squeezed it gently, letting her know that even though he did not look it, he was immensely excited.

Joyce and her former lover followed the woman through the halls, doors opening and closing on his left and right, the floor impeccably clean it was almost unnatural.  Anticipation grew in his stomach; he had not seen Buffy for almost seventeen years and all he wanted to do was to hold her, touch her, and speak to her about everything, everything that he had done in the past.  He wanted to redeem himself in front of her, to make sure that she saw him as a perfect man and not some person who had been to a dark side.  He expected Buffy to be obedient, polite and hopefully, an intelligent girl.  Just like him.

Before he knew it, the woman had stopped at the last door of the corridor, gesturing with her hands to the door.  Joyce muttered thanks, and the woman left, bustling back to work.

Joyce turned to him and took both of his hands in hers.  "She'll love you, just like I d-did."  She reassured.  He smiled, but it did not disguise the nervousness displayed across his face.  Joyce nodded, and pushed the door open, stepping in gently and motioning for him to follow.  With a deep breath and a shake of his shoulders, he stepped through the open doorway and laid eyes upon his daughter.

***

When Buffy imagined seeing her mother again, she had conjured up fights, shouts and tears.  She had imagined that her mother would be angry that she had left and that she would immediately demand for Buffy to give up the slaying.  But, after hours of imagining it, she did not think about if Joyce was actually happy to see her.  So Buffy was completely surprised when her mother entered the room and flung her arms around her neck, squeezing her tightly as if she never wanted to let go.  Eventually, Buffy forgot her surprise and wrapped her arms around her mother, tears falling down her cheeks and dampening her mother's hair.  It was such a comfort having her mother back with her, Buffy had convinced herself previously, when she lay awake in her cold and damp apartment, that her mother would not want her, and would not offer any comfort when she saw her.  And Buffy convinced herself that she did not need any comfort, that she was fine and happy not being kissed goodnight or being in her mother's warm presence.

Having her mother wrap her arms around her was having all of her strength and hope return to her.  Buffy knew that the moment her mother had hugged her, everything would be alright.  Her mother would take care of her now, her mother would be kind and comforting to her and she would forget everything.  She would forget the torment of Angelus and just remember the loving touch of Angel; she would forget the sight of Giles' bruised face and remember his fatherly words after Buffy had faced the Judge.

"I missed you so much mom," Buffy choked into her mother's hair.

"Me too darling," Joyce said, looking at Buffy, cupping her face in her hands and kissing her daughter's forehead.  "Me too."

Buffy's real father stood under the shadow of the door, unnoticed by the young girl in the bed.  She was beautiful, soft blonde hair, piercing emerald eyes, a small nose and full red lips.  At the sight of Buffy, his heart leapt and settled in his throat, finding it very hard to breathe and trying very hard not to cry with joy.  The affection and love that was displayed between mother and daughter was tangible, and for a second, he felt a pang of jealousy.  He longed to have a relationship like that with his daughter, but he knew it would take time, and he had to actually meet her first.  And that time was now, Joyce was beckoning for him to come out of the shadows. 

He obliged and stood at the foot of the bed, staring right into his daughter's emerald eyes.  Joyce broke contact with Buffy and stood next to him, holding his hand, which made Buffy's eyebrows raise in question.

"Buffy," Joyce began, "I have many things to tell you.  Your honesty with me has made me realise that I should be honest with you."  Buffy's eyebrow's rose even further until it was hidden by her blonder hair falling above her forehead.  "These things will take time, but one of the most important things I have to tell you about, is your father, Hank.  Buffy, Hank is not your real father.  This man is."  Buffy's smile dropped and her gaze settled on her real father, curiosity and a hint of anger visible in her eyes.  "He comes from England, and his name is Severus Snape."

Ok, I know you guys knew that ages ago…because I was stupid and made it obvious in the previous chapter.   Well I did not mean to make it obvious in the previous chapter, so just pretend you didn't know, 'k?

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