Here's the third chapter. I know they're all pretty short, and
chances are that this isn't coming out for a while. I write slowly and far
between, so please, don't get your hopes up. Thanks to all my reviewers - I
never expected to have reviewers in the first place. I have inferiority
issues. Now that this blurb is getting just bit too personal, I'm thinking
its story time.
For a second, Faith didn't know where she was. Waking up in a strange room was something from her past. Her cell wasn't comfortable, but it was.home.
Light. There was light here. Blinking, Faith sat up. Oh, yeah. Apocalypse. Breaking out of jail. The First. Right.damn sleep.
Rising from her bed, Faith glanced at her clock. 6:00. Buffy might be up. Maybe. Then again, she was the person who had done the most, physically, in the fight against the First. She deserved, and could have used, a good solid week of sleep. But Buffy had been a Slayer longer than any of them. She was used to operating on no sleep.
Faith dressed quickly. She'd found that her appearance had become somewhat less important to her during her imprisonment. Now, she didn't have a clue what was 'in' and what wasn't, and furthermore, she didn't care.
Leaving her room with the intent of finding some food, Faith ran headlong into Wood.
"Surprise," Wood said, rubbing his head where it had connected with Faith's.
"I wish you'd stop doing that," she said, eying him appraisingly. Wood had just been one of her toys.but he'd stuck around after she was done with him. Weird guy. Nice guy.
"I was just coming to see if you were up. In case you wanted to find a bite to eat before the big rush," Wood explained.
"The big rush'?" Faith asked.
"Everyone was exhausted after the fight and all the driving. Now that's taken care of, they'll all be ravenous. Twenty famished teenage girls."
"I see your point," Faith said quickly. An ugly picture of Kennedy and a mountain of ice cream had entered her head.
"Lets see if we can't find a café or something," Wood said, offering his arm to Faith.
"Sure," she replied, but declined the arm. Wood shrugged. At least she wants to eat with me.
As Wood and Faith were leaving the hotel, Buffy Summers was stirring in her room. She'd had the first decent night's sleep in about a month. Probably longer.
As a result of her slumber, her hair was a mess, which she found quite distressing. She really wanted to make Angel drool, even after all these years.
"Oh, no," she muttered as she looked in the mirror.
As she brushed her hair, Buffy reflected on the fact that she hadn't woken up with thoughts of the First on her mind. It had been a good long time since that had happened, too. But then, she always woke up thinking about one of her foes - current or previous.
She'd actually dreamt of the Master the night before. Usually, Buffy didn't 'dream' about the Master; those were nightmares. But not last night. She'd dreamt that the Master had been dancing around singing show tunes to an old hag with a hat made out of toilet paper. And a guy selling cheese, whatever that was all about.
Buffy had never had an amusing dream about the Master. The memory of what he'd done to her was simply too traumatic. But she'd had her share of traumatic and then some - really, an old, stuffy vampire with fruit punch mouth actually did seem quite amusing now. He'd killed her - so what? She'd died again, and that was, inadvertently, because of Glory, and Glory was a god. And besides all that, she'd come back again, hadn't she? No big.
Once her hair was in better shape, Buffy dressed. She regretted having only one outfit here - all of her clothes were swallowed up in the Hellmouth.
Heading outside her room, Buffy looked down the corridor. Faith's door was ajar. Buffy looked inside a second later, to find the room deserted and a mess.
Slob, Buffy thought. She'd never get over her dislike of Faith. The fact that her room was just as messed up never so much as entered her mind. Buffy descended the stairs to find breakfast.
I guess that some Slayers have a particular talent for messing things up.
Some, indeed. As Kennedy rose from the bed she shared with Willow, she looked around the room they had inhabited for a single night and took in the devastation.
I am the messiest person alive, she thought.
"Second. Buffy is worse," Willow said, her eyes still closed.
Kennedy turned back to Willow. "You're listening to my thoughts?"
"Only when I'm bored," Willow replied, opening her eyes and gazing affectionately at Kennedy.
"Bored, huh? I'll see if I can't do something about that!" Kennedy yelled pouncing with Slayer speed back onto the bed.
We won't go into what they did next. Suffice it to say that they were late for breakfast.
Xander awoke slowly, opening one eye, then attempting to open the other one before realizing that it didn't exist anymore.
Oh, yeah. Thanks Caleb.
Xander pulled back the covers and got up. Across the room, Giles was still asleep. Xander attempted to cross the room and put something on quietly. He failed miserably.
Later, Xander would say it was the lamp fell entirely on its own without any stimulus from him. But the casual observer would have noticed him trip, fall, and grab it for support.
Funny how that works out.
"What.!" Giles bolted upright.
"Don't worry, G-Man.the lamp fell," Xander replied, rising to his feet.
"Yes.and don't call me that," Giles added, wearily.
"Sleep well?" Xander asked.
"Despite your infernal snoring.yes, I did, thank you," Giles replied.
"Uh.yeah. I'm hungry. You want something?" he asked.
"No, thank you. I'll come with you, and get some tea," Giles said.
"Wow.you're in stereotypical British guy mode," Xander said.
"Xander, you already woke me up. Must you insult me now, too?"
"No, sir. See you downstairs," and he left.
Giles shook his head. Why did I get paired with Xander, of all people? He asked himself. Why not.Wood? He seemed nice enough. He wouldn't have woken me at six in the morning, anyway.
As the morning progressed, more and more of the Sunnydale survivors awoke and wondered downstairs in search of nourishment. Faith and Wood had gotten back from their own breakfast just as Kennedy and Willow were immerging from their bedroom.
Eying both couples appraisingly, Buffy turned to Wesley and Angel.
"Now that everyone is here, we can have the meeting," she stated.
"Would you mind explaining what happened, first? Is the First gone?" Angel asked.
So Buffy explained. The idea. The scythe. The spell. All the potentials in the world becoming Slayers. She finished with the fight and Spike's sacrifice. Gunn whistled.
"All the girls who were potentials? That must be thousands by now." he said.
"Are you positive this was a wise course of action?" Wesley asked, addressing Buffy.
"Wesley, it was the only course of action," Willow answered, before Buffy could come up with a response.
Wesley shrugged. "Necessary or not, it is done. And it seems to have accomplished your goals. My contacts in the demonic underworld have reported that the First has not been heard of since the battle in Sunnydale,"
"So we killed the evil bastard," Kennedy said, slightly exalted.
"No.I'm afraid not," Wesley said, looking pointedly at Kennedy.
"What?" The group yelled, mingling fear and despair. It wasn't over?
It was Buffy who supplied the reason. "The First couldn't be killed. It's the source of all evil, folks. So as long as there's evil in this realm, the First will still exist."
Wesley looked pleasantly surprised. "I couldn't have explained it better myself," he said, nodding with respect at Buffy. "The First still lives, in its own sense, but its plans seemed to have been foiled for now."
"And that leads us to our reason for being here," Buffy stated. "Now that the First is gone, or foiled, or.whatever.we have the issue of all these Slayers to look after. Our first thoughts were to consult the Watcher's Council.but as you know, they got blown up, so I don't think they'd be much help. So, we thought that."
"We could use Wolfram and Hart to help you search out these Slayers?" Wesley finished. Buffy nodded.
"Fred is the one who knows the most about our capabilities here," Angel said.
Everyone turned to Fred. "Sorry - we don't have that range on any of our instruments, scientific or magical or both. Our reference library might be of some help, but you won't find the names of every potential in there. Wolfram and Hart doesn't concern itself much with the Slayer.Slayers," she added, looking apologetic.
"Then we came down here for nothing." Faith said, trailing off sadly.
"Not for nothing," Angel said quickly. "You needed a place to stay, and I'm sure we'll find some way."
"I might be able to help you," Wesley cut off. He'd obviously been considering this very carefully. "But, if I do, you'll have to be sworn to complete secrecy. This is the best kept secret in more than a thousand years."
Buffy considered. This had to be done. "We'll swear," she said, looking around for consent. No one challenged her.
"It's a bit out of the box," Wesley explained. "A school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, where young people with innate magic go to learn how to control their powers. They have a means of devising which children have magic and which don't. It could be used to detect Slayers," he said.
Everyone was stunned. "And you never told us about this place because.?" Angel asked.
"Everyone who attends is sworn into secrecy about it," Wesley explained. "The punishment is rather harsh."
"What's this place called?" Buffy asked.
"Hogwarts," Wesley said. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Harry had been looking forward to going to the Burrow all summer. When bored, he'd even imagined what it would be like when he arrived.
None of those imagining's had included clutching Mr. Weasley's limp, burnt form as he flew.
As the wind blew around him, Harry wondered what he would find when he arrived at the Burrow. He hadn't seen his trunk when he'd rescued Mr. Weasley - perhaps it had been destroyed in the explosion? Having no possessions, and no clothing, would be a problem. He could afford more things - but the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map were irreplaceable, as were several of his more personal belongings.
Harry glanced back over his shoulder. He wasn't being followed. Voldemort hadn't expected Harry to run away, and he certainly hadn't expected him to get away.
He really ought to start preparing for that, Harry thought, as he changed his course a little bit. Mad-Eye Moody's flight path to Order headquarters came back to Harry. Moody had advised a longer, harder to follow pattern that was devised to throw off pursuers. Then, there had been none. Now, there was a chance that there were. Harry's insides squirmed. He'd pulled an insane stunt back there. He doubted that his luck would hold up again.
Weaving slightly, Harry decided that he would play it safe. Just in case, Harry thought.
Two hours later, Harry was wishing that he hadn't decided to follow a zigzagging path. He was incredibly cold. What was worse, Mr. Weasley seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep. His body was still limp - making it heavier and harder to carry.
The sun was setting as Harry came in sight of the Burrow. He felt exhausted - a confrontation with Voldemort and a cross country broom ride carrying a limp man were enough to thoroughly drain him of his strength.
As he landed on the Weasley's lawn, he heard an almost unearthly scream. Instantly alert, Harry whipped out his wand and searched for the danger.
There wasn't any. Mrs. Weasley was flying out of the house, closely followed by Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny.
"Harry! Arthur! We were so worried." Mrs. Weasley shrieked.
"Nice save, Harry!" Fred said, genuinely in awe.
"Yeah.that was the most incredible thing I've ever seen, mate," George said.
"It was just luck.but how did you guys know about that?" Harry asked, bewildered. It had been him, the Death Eater's, Voldemort, and Mr. Weasley. There was simply no way anyone else could have been there.
"We saw the whole thing on the Wizard Watch Dumbledore set up outside your house," Ron explained.
"What's a Wizard Watch?" Harry asked.
"It's like a muggle camera," Ginny explained. "It transmits an image of its focal area directly to certain fires. We had an extra fire place installed so we could keep it on all the time." She indicated a newer, twisted chimney.
"Right." Harry said, gazing up at the new chimney. He wondered if this invasion of his privacy should make him angry. All it seemed to do was make him tired.
Mrs. Weasley was on the ground, checking Mr. Weasley over to see if he was all right. "Just knocked out.those burns aren't that bad.nothing I can't cure.anyway.and St. Mungo's doesn't have the room for anyone else right now."
"Why not?" Harry asked, curious. He still didn't know exactly what was going on.
"That's a long story, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied guardedly. "Lets get Arthur inside, shall we? Come on, Fred, George, get under an arm."
"Why don't you just levitate him?" asked Fred.
"Because - I don't want to risk using magic until everything is sorted out," Mrs. Weasley replied wearily.
"Until what is sorted out?" Harry asked, feeling his temper rising. Hadn't they dropped the whole 'leaving Harry in the dark' thing last year?
"You look exhausted, Harry. Perhaps you should get some sleep before we go into a big, complicated explanation," Mrs. Weasley said, eyeing Harry as the twins brought their father inside. They got in, and Mr. Weasley was lain down on a couch. Mrs. Weasley bustled off to prepare a potion to help with the burns.
Harry looked around. It was the same Burrow he'd known and loved for five years now, except for a few key differences. The great Weasley clock was where it always had been; but now, Mr. Weasley's hand seemed to be transitioning itself from "Mortal Peril" to "Home". Another hand had been added, too. As Harry looked closer, he saw Fleur Delacour's face on it. He looked Ron questioningly.
"Why is Fleur on your clock?" he asked.
"Bill," Ron replied, slightly put out. "They decided to marry a couple of weeks ago. It was a small wedding. Kind of nice, actually. A little church, about twenty guests, no clothes." Ron trailed off.
"No.clothes?" Harry asked, bewildered. He knew that Bill was a bit strange, but this.
"Veela tradition. Even though Fleur is only part Veela, she insisted," Ginny explained.
"So you went to his wedding.naked?" Harry asked her, forgetting Ron for a second.
"Yes," she said. "Too bad you missed it." she immediately realized what she was implying and turned red.
Deciding to leave Ginny the embarrassment of further conversation, Harry went back to looking around the room. The new fireplace was in a corner of the room previously occupied by a small painting of a dragon.
As Harry looked into the flames, he saw a smoldering ruin.
"That's.what's left.isn't it?" he asked. He hadn't had time to sort out his feelings about the destruction of Privet Drive. Now that he had time, Harry felt slightly sad. Damn, he thought, I hated that place. Why do I miss it?
"Yeah," Ron said, breaking into Harry's pensive moment.
"Not much, eh? Well, good riddance," Harry said.
"The muggles made it out all right." Ron said. "In case you were wondering."
"Yeah. Well, I expect that's the end," Harry said. "There's no way Uncle Vernon will ever have me back now. Blood curses and everything, I expect he'll go to whatever ends necessary to insure that I never live with them again."
Mrs. Weasley returned from the kitchen with Mr. Weasley's burn potion. "You'll always be welcome here, dear. Now, don't you want to go up to bed.?" she asked.
"No.not yet, thanks. I think I'd like to know what's going on, first," Harry said firmly.
"Yes.well.I'm not sure if its my place to tell you all that, Harry," she said, worriedly. She glanced at the fire and yelped.
It had flared up green for a moment, and several people were stepping through the flames. Harry recognized most of them.
First came Mad-Eye Moody, closely followed by Tonks and Lupin. Kingsley Shacklebolt came through next, with Mundungus Fletcher and, finally, Professor Dumbledore and a boy Harry didn't recognize.
"Oh, thank God," Lupin said, as he spotted Harry. "We were worried sick. When he finally managed to get to Privet Drive, you were all gone,"
"Apparition was getting thrown off," Tonks explained. "We ended up in Finland the first time we tried."
"Why was Apparition getting thrown off?" Harry asked, wondering if the question was ever going to get answered.
"Now that we are all assembled, I believe we can give a full account of the day's occurrences," Dumbledore said, motioning for a chairs. They came zooming out of the kitchen of their own accord.
"Have a seat. This will take a while," he added. "Tonks, you were the one on duty this morning. You know the happenings better than any of us. Why don't you tell everyone exactly what's been going on?"
"Okay, Dumbledore," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "This morning, we got word that Voldemort had attacked the American Wizards Academy. There was only one survivor," she said. Harry, along with the Weasleys, was shocked.
"Only one.?" he asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore jumped in. "That's Craig here."
Harry and the rest looked over at the boy who had, until then, gone unnoticed. He looked fairly ordinary, at first glance. His hair was blonde and stuck out in many directions. His eyes were a cool gray, and they seemed to look right past everything in the room, as though he were looking and focusing on something far away. The rest of his features were fairly average. Harry could guess that he was about six foot one (A/N: I know the British use metrics. I don't have the time nor the inclination to convert). There wasn't anything remarkable about him - except those eyes.
"Craig was the only survivor of the attack. I went personally to pick him up. He'll be joining us at Hogwarts this year," Dumbledore continued.
"Anyway," Tonks went on. "That was bad enough. Then we got Harry's owl at headquarters. At first, we hadn't a clue as to what his dream meant," Tonks drew in another breath, as though resigned to continue. "Then the bomb really dropped."
"The what?" asked Ron.
"Never mind. Something else happened in America yesterday. Something huge. We're not sure what," she said, looking a bit frustrated at the idea. "but we will find out. All we know right now is what the muggles know."
"And that is.?" Harry asked.
"Sunnydale, California, has been destroyed completely. That's the place you saw in your dream, Harry."
Harry let out his breath, slowly. Sunnydale, California.he'd never heard of it. "But why did I see it in a dream?" he asked.
Dumbledore looked around before answering. "Harry, Sunnydale is.was.the location of an extremely powerful Dark landmark. A Hellmouth," Dumbledore explained. "Voldemort gained quite a bit of his power from this particular Hellmouth, as it has always been the most active one in the world. He still, to this day, derives power from it. Its disruption, or even possibly, destruction, would hurt him greatly. That is why you could see it happening," Dumbledore explained. Then he added, "I think."
Everyone was too dumfounded to speak for a moment. Then, Harry ventured a new question. "What is a Hellmouth?"
Lupin answered. "A Hellmouth is a gateway to a Hell dimension. One of the worst, actually," he said. "Countless demons and other Dark creatures live there, some of which no wizard has ever seen. Hellmouths also emanate Dark energy - causing normal corpses to arise as vampires, and attracting demons and Dark wizards alike."
The silence returned. Harry looked around to gauge everyone's reaction. Shacklebolt and Tonks were professionally emotionless and unreadable; so was Dumbledore. Lupin was visibly worried, looking from Harry to the visage of Privet Drive and back again. Moody's face - what was left of it - was unreadable as well. The boy, Craig, seemed to still be a long ways off, looking at something unseen. The look was a lot like Luna Lovegood's, only hers was always happy; this boy was clearly not a happy young man. Ron seemed concerned about the occurrences described, but he wasn't betraying as much of his emotional state as usual. The twins were listening with rapt attention; Harry supposed that they were nearing the time when they would be allowed into the Order officially, and they wanted to get a feel for what was what. Ginny was staring openly at Harry, an expression of mingled concern and fear on her face. Mrs. Weasley was looking concerned as well.
"Well.now what?" Ron asked.
Blank stares abounded.
"What do we do now?" he rephrased.
"Now," Dumbledore said, a little of the usual twinkle returning to his eye. "We will be so imposing as to ask if dinner is in the offing."
Mrs. Weasley smiled for the first time that evening. "Of course, Dumbledore. If you'll give me some time, I'll prepare something for everyone. Boys, if you'll go out and set the table." and she left, with Fred and George following.
Lupin came up to Harry and promptly gave him a big hug. "We were very worried," he said, pulling back.
"Yeah.sorry," Harry said.
"No, its not your fault. If only we'd been able to get there sooner! But the destruction of the AWA and the Hellmouth has thrown the entire magical world into a sort of flux. It'll settle down eventually, but for now." he trailed off. "Its just good to see you safe and sound."
"Yeah. It's good to be safe and sound." Harry attempted a joke. Lupin smiled.
"Could I have a word with Harry.alone, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.
"Of course, Professor," Lupin said, and walked in the direction of the kitchen.
"Harry - out here, please," Dumbledore motioned towards the door.
As they stepped outside, Harry glanced at Dumbledore. Oh, great, he thought. More bad news.
"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore drew a deep breath. "Professor Trelawney arrived back at Hogwarts just yesterday, Harry," he began.
".So?" Harry asked. He was a little upset by this, sure: Professor Trelawney's class was one of his least favorites. It had been a little more bearable with Firenze teaching it - but only a little.
"She has given another prophesy," Dumbledore continued. Harry's entire demeanor shifted from casual indifference to intense focus in an instant.
"A.real one?" He asked, hesitantly. Dumbledore had always been the first to acknowledge that most of Trelawney's predictions were somewhat less than honest.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "The trance is unmistakable. As I'm sure you can attest," he said. "Harry, I'll level with you: this new prophesy is bad."
"Does it." Harry faltered, then tried again. "Does it say that Voldemort is the one who will win? When we.we have to fight?"
"No," said Dumbledore, and Harry was immediately relieved. Living with the notion that he would have to become a murderer to survive was bad. Living knowing that he would be murdered would be worse. "What it said was this. I'm not telling the others, because the lesser the amount of people who know, the better. But as it concerns you more than anyone, you deserve, more than anyone, to know.
"Harry, this entire war depends on what happens between you and Voldemort. I know, you already know that only one of you can survive," he added, seeing the look on Harry's face. "But it goes deeper than that, I'm afraid. The very state of the war between Dark and Light, good and evil, depends on your own personal war against Voldemort.
"When Voldemort destroyed the AWA, he struck us a grievous blow. The wizarding schools have always been believed to be the safest places on the planet, you see," Dumbledore said, with a suppressed note of pride. "But then the Hellmouth in Sunnydale was destroyed, too. Yes, Harry, I believe that the Hellmouth there has been closed. Our side has always lacked the ability to close a Hellmouth, so such a victory has never been possible.
"You're probably wondering what any of that has to do with you. Here it is, Harry: You and Voldemort are at an equilibrium. Neither of you has the upper hand on the other. Your own personal war - the one around which the first prophesy revolves - is at an equilibrium. Therefore, so is the overall war between good and evil. Until one of you defeats the other, until one of you kills the other, the war cannot progress. Any victory for our side will be responded to immediately by an equally important victory for their side.
"I'm afraid that the entire war seems to rest on your shoulders now, Harry. Until you kill Voldemort, or he kills you, we cannot defeat his forces."
Harry sat there, looking off into the distance as Dumbledore went back inside. The weight of the world. he thought. Why did my life have to suck? After a few moments, Harry went back inside. Suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day's tasks, Harry skipped dinner and went straight up to bed.
There it is! Three chapters! And this one's a monster - doubles my word count. Anyway, thanks to my reviewers. Word for Mac does some wacky things with HTML, so I decided to go with TXT instead. It removes most formatting, but its better than having all the weird characters everywhere. And the spacing issues - which, by the way, I can't seem to see - I hope have been dealt with. So if y'all could tell me if this is better (1.5 line spacing rather than single) that'd be peachy. Station!
For a second, Faith didn't know where she was. Waking up in a strange room was something from her past. Her cell wasn't comfortable, but it was.home.
Light. There was light here. Blinking, Faith sat up. Oh, yeah. Apocalypse. Breaking out of jail. The First. Right.damn sleep.
Rising from her bed, Faith glanced at her clock. 6:00. Buffy might be up. Maybe. Then again, she was the person who had done the most, physically, in the fight against the First. She deserved, and could have used, a good solid week of sleep. But Buffy had been a Slayer longer than any of them. She was used to operating on no sleep.
Faith dressed quickly. She'd found that her appearance had become somewhat less important to her during her imprisonment. Now, she didn't have a clue what was 'in' and what wasn't, and furthermore, she didn't care.
Leaving her room with the intent of finding some food, Faith ran headlong into Wood.
"Surprise," Wood said, rubbing his head where it had connected with Faith's.
"I wish you'd stop doing that," she said, eying him appraisingly. Wood had just been one of her toys.but he'd stuck around after she was done with him. Weird guy. Nice guy.
"I was just coming to see if you were up. In case you wanted to find a bite to eat before the big rush," Wood explained.
"The big rush'?" Faith asked.
"Everyone was exhausted after the fight and all the driving. Now that's taken care of, they'll all be ravenous. Twenty famished teenage girls."
"I see your point," Faith said quickly. An ugly picture of Kennedy and a mountain of ice cream had entered her head.
"Lets see if we can't find a café or something," Wood said, offering his arm to Faith.
"Sure," she replied, but declined the arm. Wood shrugged. At least she wants to eat with me.
As Wood and Faith were leaving the hotel, Buffy Summers was stirring in her room. She'd had the first decent night's sleep in about a month. Probably longer.
As a result of her slumber, her hair was a mess, which she found quite distressing. She really wanted to make Angel drool, even after all these years.
"Oh, no," she muttered as she looked in the mirror.
As she brushed her hair, Buffy reflected on the fact that she hadn't woken up with thoughts of the First on her mind. It had been a good long time since that had happened, too. But then, she always woke up thinking about one of her foes - current or previous.
She'd actually dreamt of the Master the night before. Usually, Buffy didn't 'dream' about the Master; those were nightmares. But not last night. She'd dreamt that the Master had been dancing around singing show tunes to an old hag with a hat made out of toilet paper. And a guy selling cheese, whatever that was all about.
Buffy had never had an amusing dream about the Master. The memory of what he'd done to her was simply too traumatic. But she'd had her share of traumatic and then some - really, an old, stuffy vampire with fruit punch mouth actually did seem quite amusing now. He'd killed her - so what? She'd died again, and that was, inadvertently, because of Glory, and Glory was a god. And besides all that, she'd come back again, hadn't she? No big.
Once her hair was in better shape, Buffy dressed. She regretted having only one outfit here - all of her clothes were swallowed up in the Hellmouth.
Heading outside her room, Buffy looked down the corridor. Faith's door was ajar. Buffy looked inside a second later, to find the room deserted and a mess.
Slob, Buffy thought. She'd never get over her dislike of Faith. The fact that her room was just as messed up never so much as entered her mind. Buffy descended the stairs to find breakfast.
I guess that some Slayers have a particular talent for messing things up.
Some, indeed. As Kennedy rose from the bed she shared with Willow, she looked around the room they had inhabited for a single night and took in the devastation.
I am the messiest person alive, she thought.
"Second. Buffy is worse," Willow said, her eyes still closed.
Kennedy turned back to Willow. "You're listening to my thoughts?"
"Only when I'm bored," Willow replied, opening her eyes and gazing affectionately at Kennedy.
"Bored, huh? I'll see if I can't do something about that!" Kennedy yelled pouncing with Slayer speed back onto the bed.
We won't go into what they did next. Suffice it to say that they were late for breakfast.
Xander awoke slowly, opening one eye, then attempting to open the other one before realizing that it didn't exist anymore.
Oh, yeah. Thanks Caleb.
Xander pulled back the covers and got up. Across the room, Giles was still asleep. Xander attempted to cross the room and put something on quietly. He failed miserably.
Later, Xander would say it was the lamp fell entirely on its own without any stimulus from him. But the casual observer would have noticed him trip, fall, and grab it for support.
Funny how that works out.
"What.!" Giles bolted upright.
"Don't worry, G-Man.the lamp fell," Xander replied, rising to his feet.
"Yes.and don't call me that," Giles added, wearily.
"Sleep well?" Xander asked.
"Despite your infernal snoring.yes, I did, thank you," Giles replied.
"Uh.yeah. I'm hungry. You want something?" he asked.
"No, thank you. I'll come with you, and get some tea," Giles said.
"Wow.you're in stereotypical British guy mode," Xander said.
"Xander, you already woke me up. Must you insult me now, too?"
"No, sir. See you downstairs," and he left.
Giles shook his head. Why did I get paired with Xander, of all people? He asked himself. Why not.Wood? He seemed nice enough. He wouldn't have woken me at six in the morning, anyway.
As the morning progressed, more and more of the Sunnydale survivors awoke and wondered downstairs in search of nourishment. Faith and Wood had gotten back from their own breakfast just as Kennedy and Willow were immerging from their bedroom.
Eying both couples appraisingly, Buffy turned to Wesley and Angel.
"Now that everyone is here, we can have the meeting," she stated.
"Would you mind explaining what happened, first? Is the First gone?" Angel asked.
So Buffy explained. The idea. The scythe. The spell. All the potentials in the world becoming Slayers. She finished with the fight and Spike's sacrifice. Gunn whistled.
"All the girls who were potentials? That must be thousands by now." he said.
"Are you positive this was a wise course of action?" Wesley asked, addressing Buffy.
"Wesley, it was the only course of action," Willow answered, before Buffy could come up with a response.
Wesley shrugged. "Necessary or not, it is done. And it seems to have accomplished your goals. My contacts in the demonic underworld have reported that the First has not been heard of since the battle in Sunnydale,"
"So we killed the evil bastard," Kennedy said, slightly exalted.
"No.I'm afraid not," Wesley said, looking pointedly at Kennedy.
"What?" The group yelled, mingling fear and despair. It wasn't over?
It was Buffy who supplied the reason. "The First couldn't be killed. It's the source of all evil, folks. So as long as there's evil in this realm, the First will still exist."
Wesley looked pleasantly surprised. "I couldn't have explained it better myself," he said, nodding with respect at Buffy. "The First still lives, in its own sense, but its plans seemed to have been foiled for now."
"And that leads us to our reason for being here," Buffy stated. "Now that the First is gone, or foiled, or.whatever.we have the issue of all these Slayers to look after. Our first thoughts were to consult the Watcher's Council.but as you know, they got blown up, so I don't think they'd be much help. So, we thought that."
"We could use Wolfram and Hart to help you search out these Slayers?" Wesley finished. Buffy nodded.
"Fred is the one who knows the most about our capabilities here," Angel said.
Everyone turned to Fred. "Sorry - we don't have that range on any of our instruments, scientific or magical or both. Our reference library might be of some help, but you won't find the names of every potential in there. Wolfram and Hart doesn't concern itself much with the Slayer.Slayers," she added, looking apologetic.
"Then we came down here for nothing." Faith said, trailing off sadly.
"Not for nothing," Angel said quickly. "You needed a place to stay, and I'm sure we'll find some way."
"I might be able to help you," Wesley cut off. He'd obviously been considering this very carefully. "But, if I do, you'll have to be sworn to complete secrecy. This is the best kept secret in more than a thousand years."
Buffy considered. This had to be done. "We'll swear," she said, looking around for consent. No one challenged her.
"It's a bit out of the box," Wesley explained. "A school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, where young people with innate magic go to learn how to control their powers. They have a means of devising which children have magic and which don't. It could be used to detect Slayers," he said.
Everyone was stunned. "And you never told us about this place because.?" Angel asked.
"Everyone who attends is sworn into secrecy about it," Wesley explained. "The punishment is rather harsh."
"What's this place called?" Buffy asked.
"Hogwarts," Wesley said. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Harry had been looking forward to going to the Burrow all summer. When bored, he'd even imagined what it would be like when he arrived.
None of those imagining's had included clutching Mr. Weasley's limp, burnt form as he flew.
As the wind blew around him, Harry wondered what he would find when he arrived at the Burrow. He hadn't seen his trunk when he'd rescued Mr. Weasley - perhaps it had been destroyed in the explosion? Having no possessions, and no clothing, would be a problem. He could afford more things - but the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map were irreplaceable, as were several of his more personal belongings.
Harry glanced back over his shoulder. He wasn't being followed. Voldemort hadn't expected Harry to run away, and he certainly hadn't expected him to get away.
He really ought to start preparing for that, Harry thought, as he changed his course a little bit. Mad-Eye Moody's flight path to Order headquarters came back to Harry. Moody had advised a longer, harder to follow pattern that was devised to throw off pursuers. Then, there had been none. Now, there was a chance that there were. Harry's insides squirmed. He'd pulled an insane stunt back there. He doubted that his luck would hold up again.
Weaving slightly, Harry decided that he would play it safe. Just in case, Harry thought.
Two hours later, Harry was wishing that he hadn't decided to follow a zigzagging path. He was incredibly cold. What was worse, Mr. Weasley seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep. His body was still limp - making it heavier and harder to carry.
The sun was setting as Harry came in sight of the Burrow. He felt exhausted - a confrontation with Voldemort and a cross country broom ride carrying a limp man were enough to thoroughly drain him of his strength.
As he landed on the Weasley's lawn, he heard an almost unearthly scream. Instantly alert, Harry whipped out his wand and searched for the danger.
There wasn't any. Mrs. Weasley was flying out of the house, closely followed by Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny.
"Harry! Arthur! We were so worried." Mrs. Weasley shrieked.
"Nice save, Harry!" Fred said, genuinely in awe.
"Yeah.that was the most incredible thing I've ever seen, mate," George said.
"It was just luck.but how did you guys know about that?" Harry asked, bewildered. It had been him, the Death Eater's, Voldemort, and Mr. Weasley. There was simply no way anyone else could have been there.
"We saw the whole thing on the Wizard Watch Dumbledore set up outside your house," Ron explained.
"What's a Wizard Watch?" Harry asked.
"It's like a muggle camera," Ginny explained. "It transmits an image of its focal area directly to certain fires. We had an extra fire place installed so we could keep it on all the time." She indicated a newer, twisted chimney.
"Right." Harry said, gazing up at the new chimney. He wondered if this invasion of his privacy should make him angry. All it seemed to do was make him tired.
Mrs. Weasley was on the ground, checking Mr. Weasley over to see if he was all right. "Just knocked out.those burns aren't that bad.nothing I can't cure.anyway.and St. Mungo's doesn't have the room for anyone else right now."
"Why not?" Harry asked, curious. He still didn't know exactly what was going on.
"That's a long story, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied guardedly. "Lets get Arthur inside, shall we? Come on, Fred, George, get under an arm."
"Why don't you just levitate him?" asked Fred.
"Because - I don't want to risk using magic until everything is sorted out," Mrs. Weasley replied wearily.
"Until what is sorted out?" Harry asked, feeling his temper rising. Hadn't they dropped the whole 'leaving Harry in the dark' thing last year?
"You look exhausted, Harry. Perhaps you should get some sleep before we go into a big, complicated explanation," Mrs. Weasley said, eyeing Harry as the twins brought their father inside. They got in, and Mr. Weasley was lain down on a couch. Mrs. Weasley bustled off to prepare a potion to help with the burns.
Harry looked around. It was the same Burrow he'd known and loved for five years now, except for a few key differences. The great Weasley clock was where it always had been; but now, Mr. Weasley's hand seemed to be transitioning itself from "Mortal Peril" to "Home". Another hand had been added, too. As Harry looked closer, he saw Fleur Delacour's face on it. He looked Ron questioningly.
"Why is Fleur on your clock?" he asked.
"Bill," Ron replied, slightly put out. "They decided to marry a couple of weeks ago. It was a small wedding. Kind of nice, actually. A little church, about twenty guests, no clothes." Ron trailed off.
"No.clothes?" Harry asked, bewildered. He knew that Bill was a bit strange, but this.
"Veela tradition. Even though Fleur is only part Veela, she insisted," Ginny explained.
"So you went to his wedding.naked?" Harry asked her, forgetting Ron for a second.
"Yes," she said. "Too bad you missed it." she immediately realized what she was implying and turned red.
Deciding to leave Ginny the embarrassment of further conversation, Harry went back to looking around the room. The new fireplace was in a corner of the room previously occupied by a small painting of a dragon.
As Harry looked into the flames, he saw a smoldering ruin.
"That's.what's left.isn't it?" he asked. He hadn't had time to sort out his feelings about the destruction of Privet Drive. Now that he had time, Harry felt slightly sad. Damn, he thought, I hated that place. Why do I miss it?
"Yeah," Ron said, breaking into Harry's pensive moment.
"Not much, eh? Well, good riddance," Harry said.
"The muggles made it out all right." Ron said. "In case you were wondering."
"Yeah. Well, I expect that's the end," Harry said. "There's no way Uncle Vernon will ever have me back now. Blood curses and everything, I expect he'll go to whatever ends necessary to insure that I never live with them again."
Mrs. Weasley returned from the kitchen with Mr. Weasley's burn potion. "You'll always be welcome here, dear. Now, don't you want to go up to bed.?" she asked.
"No.not yet, thanks. I think I'd like to know what's going on, first," Harry said firmly.
"Yes.well.I'm not sure if its my place to tell you all that, Harry," she said, worriedly. She glanced at the fire and yelped.
It had flared up green for a moment, and several people were stepping through the flames. Harry recognized most of them.
First came Mad-Eye Moody, closely followed by Tonks and Lupin. Kingsley Shacklebolt came through next, with Mundungus Fletcher and, finally, Professor Dumbledore and a boy Harry didn't recognize.
"Oh, thank God," Lupin said, as he spotted Harry. "We were worried sick. When he finally managed to get to Privet Drive, you were all gone,"
"Apparition was getting thrown off," Tonks explained. "We ended up in Finland the first time we tried."
"Why was Apparition getting thrown off?" Harry asked, wondering if the question was ever going to get answered.
"Now that we are all assembled, I believe we can give a full account of the day's occurrences," Dumbledore said, motioning for a chairs. They came zooming out of the kitchen of their own accord.
"Have a seat. This will take a while," he added. "Tonks, you were the one on duty this morning. You know the happenings better than any of us. Why don't you tell everyone exactly what's been going on?"
"Okay, Dumbledore," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "This morning, we got word that Voldemort had attacked the American Wizards Academy. There was only one survivor," she said. Harry, along with the Weasleys, was shocked.
"Only one.?" he asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore jumped in. "That's Craig here."
Harry and the rest looked over at the boy who had, until then, gone unnoticed. He looked fairly ordinary, at first glance. His hair was blonde and stuck out in many directions. His eyes were a cool gray, and they seemed to look right past everything in the room, as though he were looking and focusing on something far away. The rest of his features were fairly average. Harry could guess that he was about six foot one (A/N: I know the British use metrics. I don't have the time nor the inclination to convert). There wasn't anything remarkable about him - except those eyes.
"Craig was the only survivor of the attack. I went personally to pick him up. He'll be joining us at Hogwarts this year," Dumbledore continued.
"Anyway," Tonks went on. "That was bad enough. Then we got Harry's owl at headquarters. At first, we hadn't a clue as to what his dream meant," Tonks drew in another breath, as though resigned to continue. "Then the bomb really dropped."
"The what?" asked Ron.
"Never mind. Something else happened in America yesterday. Something huge. We're not sure what," she said, looking a bit frustrated at the idea. "but we will find out. All we know right now is what the muggles know."
"And that is.?" Harry asked.
"Sunnydale, California, has been destroyed completely. That's the place you saw in your dream, Harry."
Harry let out his breath, slowly. Sunnydale, California.he'd never heard of it. "But why did I see it in a dream?" he asked.
Dumbledore looked around before answering. "Harry, Sunnydale is.was.the location of an extremely powerful Dark landmark. A Hellmouth," Dumbledore explained. "Voldemort gained quite a bit of his power from this particular Hellmouth, as it has always been the most active one in the world. He still, to this day, derives power from it. Its disruption, or even possibly, destruction, would hurt him greatly. That is why you could see it happening," Dumbledore explained. Then he added, "I think."
Everyone was too dumfounded to speak for a moment. Then, Harry ventured a new question. "What is a Hellmouth?"
Lupin answered. "A Hellmouth is a gateway to a Hell dimension. One of the worst, actually," he said. "Countless demons and other Dark creatures live there, some of which no wizard has ever seen. Hellmouths also emanate Dark energy - causing normal corpses to arise as vampires, and attracting demons and Dark wizards alike."
The silence returned. Harry looked around to gauge everyone's reaction. Shacklebolt and Tonks were professionally emotionless and unreadable; so was Dumbledore. Lupin was visibly worried, looking from Harry to the visage of Privet Drive and back again. Moody's face - what was left of it - was unreadable as well. The boy, Craig, seemed to still be a long ways off, looking at something unseen. The look was a lot like Luna Lovegood's, only hers was always happy; this boy was clearly not a happy young man. Ron seemed concerned about the occurrences described, but he wasn't betraying as much of his emotional state as usual. The twins were listening with rapt attention; Harry supposed that they were nearing the time when they would be allowed into the Order officially, and they wanted to get a feel for what was what. Ginny was staring openly at Harry, an expression of mingled concern and fear on her face. Mrs. Weasley was looking concerned as well.
"Well.now what?" Ron asked.
Blank stares abounded.
"What do we do now?" he rephrased.
"Now," Dumbledore said, a little of the usual twinkle returning to his eye. "We will be so imposing as to ask if dinner is in the offing."
Mrs. Weasley smiled for the first time that evening. "Of course, Dumbledore. If you'll give me some time, I'll prepare something for everyone. Boys, if you'll go out and set the table." and she left, with Fred and George following.
Lupin came up to Harry and promptly gave him a big hug. "We were very worried," he said, pulling back.
"Yeah.sorry," Harry said.
"No, its not your fault. If only we'd been able to get there sooner! But the destruction of the AWA and the Hellmouth has thrown the entire magical world into a sort of flux. It'll settle down eventually, but for now." he trailed off. "Its just good to see you safe and sound."
"Yeah. It's good to be safe and sound." Harry attempted a joke. Lupin smiled.
"Could I have a word with Harry.alone, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.
"Of course, Professor," Lupin said, and walked in the direction of the kitchen.
"Harry - out here, please," Dumbledore motioned towards the door.
As they stepped outside, Harry glanced at Dumbledore. Oh, great, he thought. More bad news.
"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore drew a deep breath. "Professor Trelawney arrived back at Hogwarts just yesterday, Harry," he began.
".So?" Harry asked. He was a little upset by this, sure: Professor Trelawney's class was one of his least favorites. It had been a little more bearable with Firenze teaching it - but only a little.
"She has given another prophesy," Dumbledore continued. Harry's entire demeanor shifted from casual indifference to intense focus in an instant.
"A.real one?" He asked, hesitantly. Dumbledore had always been the first to acknowledge that most of Trelawney's predictions were somewhat less than honest.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "The trance is unmistakable. As I'm sure you can attest," he said. "Harry, I'll level with you: this new prophesy is bad."
"Does it." Harry faltered, then tried again. "Does it say that Voldemort is the one who will win? When we.we have to fight?"
"No," said Dumbledore, and Harry was immediately relieved. Living with the notion that he would have to become a murderer to survive was bad. Living knowing that he would be murdered would be worse. "What it said was this. I'm not telling the others, because the lesser the amount of people who know, the better. But as it concerns you more than anyone, you deserve, more than anyone, to know.
"Harry, this entire war depends on what happens between you and Voldemort. I know, you already know that only one of you can survive," he added, seeing the look on Harry's face. "But it goes deeper than that, I'm afraid. The very state of the war between Dark and Light, good and evil, depends on your own personal war against Voldemort.
"When Voldemort destroyed the AWA, he struck us a grievous blow. The wizarding schools have always been believed to be the safest places on the planet, you see," Dumbledore said, with a suppressed note of pride. "But then the Hellmouth in Sunnydale was destroyed, too. Yes, Harry, I believe that the Hellmouth there has been closed. Our side has always lacked the ability to close a Hellmouth, so such a victory has never been possible.
"You're probably wondering what any of that has to do with you. Here it is, Harry: You and Voldemort are at an equilibrium. Neither of you has the upper hand on the other. Your own personal war - the one around which the first prophesy revolves - is at an equilibrium. Therefore, so is the overall war between good and evil. Until one of you defeats the other, until one of you kills the other, the war cannot progress. Any victory for our side will be responded to immediately by an equally important victory for their side.
"I'm afraid that the entire war seems to rest on your shoulders now, Harry. Until you kill Voldemort, or he kills you, we cannot defeat his forces."
Harry sat there, looking off into the distance as Dumbledore went back inside. The weight of the world. he thought. Why did my life have to suck? After a few moments, Harry went back inside. Suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day's tasks, Harry skipped dinner and went straight up to bed.
There it is! Three chapters! And this one's a monster - doubles my word count. Anyway, thanks to my reviewers. Word for Mac does some wacky things with HTML, so I decided to go with TXT instead. It removes most formatting, but its better than having all the weird characters everywhere. And the spacing issues - which, by the way, I can't seem to see - I hope have been dealt with. So if y'all could tell me if this is better (1.5 line spacing rather than single) that'd be peachy. Station!