Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It think there were five of you. Thanks especially go out to Zaeria. You're input is always welcome. Anyway, its by the time your reading this...well, lets not dwell on that. Instead, lets dwell on the chapter you're about to read. Yay!
A week later, Dumbledore sat in a room, alone. He sat in this room only twice each year; once at the beginning of summer, once at the end. It was neither time; indeed, there were still two weeks of summer left.
Dumbledore looked at the box in front of him. It was fairly non-descript. Although large, the box seemed unremarkable, with its dull gray color and lack on design. From looking at it, one could never tell what it could do.
It was one of the most powerful magical objects ever to have existed.
The Box of Rixx, rumored to have been created by a brilliant centaur, was what Dumbledore used to seek out the students that attended his school each year. He disdained its use, though, for it warped the mind of the user ever so slightly. He supposed that it was the box's fault, not his own, that he was always a bit...loopy...at the opening day feast. Using it made him feel strange.
He therefore avoided its use as much as possible. The sense of helplessness he felt after the effects wore off was humiliating, as was the knowledge that he couldn't adequately defend himself in that state.
He stared for a long time, or what seemed like a long time. Time, itself, was distorted near the Box, because its power was so great that it disturbed the continuum of space, time, and magic in its surrounding area. He reached out and touched it and shuddered again. His hand had warped back in on itself as he'd touched the Box.
Gritting his teeth, Dumbledore decided to just get it over with. He stepped up to the Box, and with all his strength, pressed forward.
After a moment when it seemed as though he could not push through the outer layer of the Box, it gave way, gelatinously moving to accommodate his hand. Slowly, he worked the rest of his body through until he was in darkness.
His mind had been empty till then; it was a requirement for entering the Box. Now, however, his mind exploded with every thought on the planet. It didn't hurt, and it didn't overwhelm him; but it didn't make any sense, either.
The Box calmed down immediately. It spoke to him, in its strange, unreal language. "You have come to search again, Albus? Why so early?"
Dumbledore's thoughts supplied the answer before he could have even considered using his mouth. He was searching for a new type now, magical in a different way.
"Slayers..." the Box said. It read his thoughts and began to search. Dumbledore shuddered.
He saw the girls as the Box picked them out, zeroing in only to fly away in an instant to the next one. Though he only could see their faces for an instant, Dumbledore could remember each and every face, name, and address.
The search took nearly three hours.
Eventually, the Box stopped bombarding him. "That's all of them. Are you all right, Albus? You seem tired."
Dumbledore shook his head. The Box needn't ask questions. It could simply read the answer out of his mind, and it never bothered to wait for him reply, anyway.
"Yes," the Box said. "Yes, I see...well, I'm sure Harry will be fine, Albus."
Dumbledore nodded and exited the Box before it could say any more. He didn't quite make it in time, because an echo lasted in his mind.
"Just have confidence..."
Buffy surveyed the lawn. The Slayers were in groups, sparring with each other with a variety of weapons. Kennedy and Willow were taking turns to throw things at each other, with magic and with muscle, and to block those things. Rona and Shannon were doing push ups with five hundred pound sacks on their backs. Several Slayers were practicing swordplay.
Buffy nodded. They were in good shape. All of the Slayers were in top physical condition - indeed, she'd never felt so good before.
Faith walked up to her. "You wanna have a go?" she asked.
Buffy started, alarmed. She hadn't fought Faith since the incident three and a half years ago - and it had been drag out then too.
She was unsure, but Faith was smiling. "Come on," she said, under her breath. "Let's give these kiddies something to stare at."
Buffy's smile, when it came, was slow and a bit unsure. "Okay..." she said. She wondered if it was a bad idea.
The two Slayers squared off, facing each other from a fighting stance. Realizing what was going on, several of the Slayers stopped what they were doing to watch. Xander and Willow backed quickly away, having had experience with Faith/Buffy fights and not wanting to get in the way.
Buffy and Faith circled, looking for openings. They stared each other down, and Buffy suddenly wondered how much she really wanted to hit Faith.
"Shall I do the honors?" Buffy asked, but she sounded a bit unconvincing.
"Be my guess, B," Faith replied, grinning widely.
Buffy struck, a quick right hand aimed to incapacitate Faith. Faith parried with her forearm and sought to uppercut Buffy. Buffy, too, parried, grabbing Faith's wrist and swinging her in a circle. She landed hard on the ground.
The Slayers watched as Faith got quickly to her feet. Many of them had felt a strange urge to cheer, as thought there really were separate sides at work. Willow stirred, feeling Buffy's emotions.
Not allowing Buffy the upper hand again, Faith lunged in quickly with a left hook that connected, sending Buffy tumbling back. Faith would have had Buffy pinned if not for a deft movement from the blonde Slayer. Buffy lashed out with her feet, catching Faith and throwing her.
Buffy leapt back to her feet.
Buffy took the offensive, swinging a kick towards Faith's head that Faith ducked under. Faith grabbed Buffy and sought to roll the smaller girl, but Buffy used the roll to lash out with her feet again. This time, a foot connected with Faith's midsection, knocking the wind out of her.
Buffy was up in an instant and back on the offensive. She struck a the winded Faith, hitting her full on in the face. Faith reeled, and Buffy delivered an enormous kick.
Only Faith wasn't there anymore.
Knowing Buffy's signature move all too well, Faith had ducked under it. She now came up sharply, lifting Buffy's leg from the ground. Buffy's center of gravity rolled across her body, and her weight lost its even distribution. She fell backwards, Faith applying pressure. If Buffy hadn't been so strong, the leg would have snapped like a twig.
Buffy twisted on the ground, kicking Faith. Faith lost her grip on Buffy's leg, and Buffy jumped up. They both hit there fighters poses, fire in their eyes.
Then, almost in synchronization, they began to laugh.
Willow breathed a small sigh of relief. Leave it to Slayers, she thought, to have to sort out their errant feelings with violence.
She had felt Buffy's surge of emotion at fighting Faith. She'd felt Faith, too, to some extent, but what overwhelmed her was Buffy.
The emotion she had received can best be described as 'confusion'.
Buffy was unsure of Faith; and Faith was unsure of herself. Neither harbored any liking for the other, but somehow, they'd ended up trusting each other.
And neither had even noticed it.
Willow grinned widely as the rest of Slayers joined in laughing with Faith and Buffy. Soon, they were all back to their sparring.
Willow walked up to Buffy, who was standing apart, smiling. "Some work out," Willow said.
Buffy grinned again. "Yeah, some work out," she agreed.
"More for your mind than your body, I'm thinking," Willow said.
Buffy shook her head. "I never realized that I...trusted...Faith," she said. "The concept of trusting her has been so natural for the last few months. I had to, so I did," she shook her head again, emphatically. "But fighting her again...actually fighting her...it brought all of the old memories back. I suppose that I realized what Faith really means to me...to us...just now."
Willow just smiled.
Craig sat in his tree, watching from a distance. The two Slayers were good. Perhaps they weren't as good as him, but they obviously had skill.
He smiled. Fighting one of them would be fun.
He relaxed back into his branch. He'd been watching the Slayers train for nearly a week now. He knew many of their exercises by heart. There were a few that were unfamiliar to him, but he could guess most of their meanings quickly.
He'd been raised to fight, after all.
He contemplated asking Dumbledore for permission to train with the Slayers. Then he thought better of it. He would enjoy watching more.
As far as he knew, none of the Slayers knew of his presence; he wanted to keep it that way. It was so much better to observe them from a distance. After all, there was a good chance that they would be killed in combat, and he didn't want to get too friendly.
Friends made lousy voices.
They were there, too, the voices. They never left, which you already know, but he had been ignoring them completely during the fight. The two Slayers were mesmerizing. He'd been able to ignore the voices completely for the first time in...gosh, how long had it been since that had happened?
Craig shook his head. Just then, he noticed the boy walking down from the castle. Harry. Harry Potter.
The one and only.
Once again, the voices swelled. This boy invoked a large response from the voices. So much so that Craig had decided to avoid the Boy Who Lived. They would meet, eventually; that was a given. But for now, avoiding him was quieter.
Craig loved quiet more than anything else. However, his concept of quiet isn't the same as our own.
You'll get that later.
Seeing that Harry was delivering a message, Craig deduced, quickly, that it was from Dumbledore. Craig hadn't spoken much to the old man since his arrival at Hogwarts; indeed, Craig hadn't spoken much to anyone since his arrival at Hogwarts.
Anyone living, anyway.
Dumbledore hadn't ever sent a runner to Buffy, though, so Craig decided that it must be something important. As the Slayers walked up to the castle, Craig followed, keeping his distance and maintaining his anonymity.
He entered the castle about a minute after the larger group did. They left a scent trail that might just as well have been a bunch of flashing neon signs - so many teenage girls equals a lot of perfume and deodorant. They had gone in the Great Hall. Craig came up to the door, and pushed it open just enough to see who was inside.
There was one large table set up in the middle of the room. Dumbledore sat at the head of it, with Harry sitting down at his right. Buffy sat at this left, with all the other Slayers taking up seats along the table.
Dumbledore had realized that Craig was there the second the door had opened. Craig was fairly sure that no one else had noticed, so he was content to melt away into the shadows at the corner of the Hall. If there was anything Dumbledore needed him to hear, he would hear it. And if Dumbledore wanted him gone - unlikely - than he would leave.
Craig settled back and waited for the meeting to begin.
Harry sat down where Dumbledore had gestured. When he had told the professor that he was unable to find Craig, as usual, the older man had simply smiled and told Harry that it was okay.
Strange.
Seeing that everyone was seated, Dumbledore began. "Now that you're all here, I'd like to begin," he said. "Yesterday, I used the Hogwarts location device, the Box of Rixx, to search for Slayers. I have the results here." He held up a sheet of parchment.
Buffy leaned forward. This was the reason that she had come to England...Buffy felt that side of her that made her do her duty swell up.
"It's a rather extensive list," Dumbledore went on. "It details the name and location of every newly risen Slayer on the planet. Added up, I believe it comes to a round five hundred names."
There was a series of small gasps from around the table. Five hundred...Harry's mind wandered away.
"To my surprise, I found that several Hogwarts students are on the list," Dumbledore said. "I believe it would be best if we started with them..."
At this, Harry leaned forward. A sneaking suspicion had entered the back of his mind...something about the way the Slayers were...something familiar.
"There are three Slayers currently attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. He was carefully avoiding Harry's eyes, a fact that Harry noted briefly. "The first is Susan Bones, a Ravenclaw girl. I believe that Susan will not be a difficult case...she is used to having her world turned on its head..." and he explained about the murder of the Bones family.
Buffy wanted to be sick. This world was so full of orphans...but now they'd get a chance to fight back.
"The second is Emily Doyle, a Hufflepuff fifth year," Dumbledore continued. "Emily is a fairly moderate girl...raised by her wizard parents...marked down for Hogwarts from a young age...not much has happened in her life that she would find strange or alarming. She might be more difficult."
Dumbledore paused. He obviously didn't want to say what was coming. He glanced quickly at Harry, and Harry knew. It was like a light bulb going on in his head.
"Ginny," he said. "My girlfriend...is a Slayer."
"Talk!" Angel roared. He lifted Rookwood's face out of the water. "This isn't nearly as pleasant for you as it may seem, but I'm sure I could get used to it. Now you're either going to tell me what I want to know, or you're going to take another little swim."
The Death Eater was soaking and freezing cold, but he didn't say anything. He'd been tortured by worse things than a vampire with a soul.
"I won't tell you anything, vampire," he muttered under his breath.
Angel was frustrated. It had been nearly two days since the attack on Wesley's home. Rookwood had woken up an hour or so after the fight had ended and promptly sealed his mouth shut. Angel had been hard pressed to get him to open it long enough to eat.
Now, the Death Eater wouldn't even tell Angel why it was that the vampire had been attacked.
"Who sent you?" Angel asked.
"Don't you know?" Rookwood replied. He sneered.
"Would I be asking...aw, screw it," Angel said. He punched Rookwood in the jaw, sending the wizard's head sharply back.
When he regained some semblance of focus, Rookwood managed to say, "Do you enjoy torturing an unarmed man?"
Angel grinned at him. It was not a pleasant smile. "I used to," he admitted. "Not so much anymore, though. Tell you what," he continued, on sudden inspiration, "I'll let you have your little wand back, and we'll have ourselves a fair fight. If you win, then...well, you win, and you get to leave. If I win...you tell me what I want to know. Get it?"
Rookwood considered a moment. He had no intention of ever telling the vampire anything, but he did want his wand back. In the end, he decided against it, though. He spat in Angel's face.
"No deal, freak," he said.
Angel turned to go, but stopped. "Freak?" he asked.
"Yes, freak," Rookwood went on. "You're a paradox; a vampire who doesn't want to kill. You're a freak!"
"You've met many vampires?" Angel asked, without turning to look at Rookwood.
"Ahh, yes," Rookwood said, happily. "Our army is comprised of many of the worst vampires..." he trailed off.
Angel turned to him and smiled. "Thanks," he said. He ignored Rookwood's furious shouting and cursing as he ascended the stairs. He shut the door at the top, blocking out the man's yelling.
"Did you get anything out of him?" Wesley asked, upon arriving back in the main hall. Everyone was assembled there, waiting for Angel's word.
"A little," Angel said. "He mentioned an army of vampires. I'm thinking that wherever there's a ton of demonic activity...there's the sponsor of the attack last night."
Wesley was staring off into space. "What?" Angel asked.
"This man..." Wesley began, "did you happen to notice a tattoo on his arm?"
Angel shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "A skull and a snake. Why?"
Wesley snapped his fingers. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I should have seen it earlier, of course, but...never mind that. This man is a Death Eater. A minion of Voldemort."
Everyone took a moment to absorb this news. "Then Voldemort has an army of vampires..." Fred said.
"We need to find Buffy," Angel said. "She needs to hear this."
"She'll be at Hogwarts, with any luck," Wesley said. "That was her destination. We can only hope that she is there by now."
"Then I guess that we need to go to Hogwarts," Angel said.
What did you all think? This chappie came out better than I could have expected. And fast, too - yet somehow, it doesn't feel nearly as rushed as the last one. That new direction is definitely in the works. So, as always, leave me your questions, comments, criticisms, and what have you. I love you all, and thanks for your continued support of me and my writing. Peace out, kids.
A week later, Dumbledore sat in a room, alone. He sat in this room only twice each year; once at the beginning of summer, once at the end. It was neither time; indeed, there were still two weeks of summer left.
Dumbledore looked at the box in front of him. It was fairly non-descript. Although large, the box seemed unremarkable, with its dull gray color and lack on design. From looking at it, one could never tell what it could do.
It was one of the most powerful magical objects ever to have existed.
The Box of Rixx, rumored to have been created by a brilliant centaur, was what Dumbledore used to seek out the students that attended his school each year. He disdained its use, though, for it warped the mind of the user ever so slightly. He supposed that it was the box's fault, not his own, that he was always a bit...loopy...at the opening day feast. Using it made him feel strange.
He therefore avoided its use as much as possible. The sense of helplessness he felt after the effects wore off was humiliating, as was the knowledge that he couldn't adequately defend himself in that state.
He stared for a long time, or what seemed like a long time. Time, itself, was distorted near the Box, because its power was so great that it disturbed the continuum of space, time, and magic in its surrounding area. He reached out and touched it and shuddered again. His hand had warped back in on itself as he'd touched the Box.
Gritting his teeth, Dumbledore decided to just get it over with. He stepped up to the Box, and with all his strength, pressed forward.
After a moment when it seemed as though he could not push through the outer layer of the Box, it gave way, gelatinously moving to accommodate his hand. Slowly, he worked the rest of his body through until he was in darkness.
His mind had been empty till then; it was a requirement for entering the Box. Now, however, his mind exploded with every thought on the planet. It didn't hurt, and it didn't overwhelm him; but it didn't make any sense, either.
The Box calmed down immediately. It spoke to him, in its strange, unreal language. "You have come to search again, Albus? Why so early?"
Dumbledore's thoughts supplied the answer before he could have even considered using his mouth. He was searching for a new type now, magical in a different way.
"Slayers..." the Box said. It read his thoughts and began to search. Dumbledore shuddered.
He saw the girls as the Box picked them out, zeroing in only to fly away in an instant to the next one. Though he only could see their faces for an instant, Dumbledore could remember each and every face, name, and address.
The search took nearly three hours.
Eventually, the Box stopped bombarding him. "That's all of them. Are you all right, Albus? You seem tired."
Dumbledore shook his head. The Box needn't ask questions. It could simply read the answer out of his mind, and it never bothered to wait for him reply, anyway.
"Yes," the Box said. "Yes, I see...well, I'm sure Harry will be fine, Albus."
Dumbledore nodded and exited the Box before it could say any more. He didn't quite make it in time, because an echo lasted in his mind.
"Just have confidence..."
Buffy surveyed the lawn. The Slayers were in groups, sparring with each other with a variety of weapons. Kennedy and Willow were taking turns to throw things at each other, with magic and with muscle, and to block those things. Rona and Shannon were doing push ups with five hundred pound sacks on their backs. Several Slayers were practicing swordplay.
Buffy nodded. They were in good shape. All of the Slayers were in top physical condition - indeed, she'd never felt so good before.
Faith walked up to her. "You wanna have a go?" she asked.
Buffy started, alarmed. She hadn't fought Faith since the incident three and a half years ago - and it had been drag out then too.
She was unsure, but Faith was smiling. "Come on," she said, under her breath. "Let's give these kiddies something to stare at."
Buffy's smile, when it came, was slow and a bit unsure. "Okay..." she said. She wondered if it was a bad idea.
The two Slayers squared off, facing each other from a fighting stance. Realizing what was going on, several of the Slayers stopped what they were doing to watch. Xander and Willow backed quickly away, having had experience with Faith/Buffy fights and not wanting to get in the way.
Buffy and Faith circled, looking for openings. They stared each other down, and Buffy suddenly wondered how much she really wanted to hit Faith.
"Shall I do the honors?" Buffy asked, but she sounded a bit unconvincing.
"Be my guess, B," Faith replied, grinning widely.
Buffy struck, a quick right hand aimed to incapacitate Faith. Faith parried with her forearm and sought to uppercut Buffy. Buffy, too, parried, grabbing Faith's wrist and swinging her in a circle. She landed hard on the ground.
The Slayers watched as Faith got quickly to her feet. Many of them had felt a strange urge to cheer, as thought there really were separate sides at work. Willow stirred, feeling Buffy's emotions.
Not allowing Buffy the upper hand again, Faith lunged in quickly with a left hook that connected, sending Buffy tumbling back. Faith would have had Buffy pinned if not for a deft movement from the blonde Slayer. Buffy lashed out with her feet, catching Faith and throwing her.
Buffy leapt back to her feet.
Buffy took the offensive, swinging a kick towards Faith's head that Faith ducked under. Faith grabbed Buffy and sought to roll the smaller girl, but Buffy used the roll to lash out with her feet again. This time, a foot connected with Faith's midsection, knocking the wind out of her.
Buffy was up in an instant and back on the offensive. She struck a the winded Faith, hitting her full on in the face. Faith reeled, and Buffy delivered an enormous kick.
Only Faith wasn't there anymore.
Knowing Buffy's signature move all too well, Faith had ducked under it. She now came up sharply, lifting Buffy's leg from the ground. Buffy's center of gravity rolled across her body, and her weight lost its even distribution. She fell backwards, Faith applying pressure. If Buffy hadn't been so strong, the leg would have snapped like a twig.
Buffy twisted on the ground, kicking Faith. Faith lost her grip on Buffy's leg, and Buffy jumped up. They both hit there fighters poses, fire in their eyes.
Then, almost in synchronization, they began to laugh.
Willow breathed a small sigh of relief. Leave it to Slayers, she thought, to have to sort out their errant feelings with violence.
She had felt Buffy's surge of emotion at fighting Faith. She'd felt Faith, too, to some extent, but what overwhelmed her was Buffy.
The emotion she had received can best be described as 'confusion'.
Buffy was unsure of Faith; and Faith was unsure of herself. Neither harbored any liking for the other, but somehow, they'd ended up trusting each other.
And neither had even noticed it.
Willow grinned widely as the rest of Slayers joined in laughing with Faith and Buffy. Soon, they were all back to their sparring.
Willow walked up to Buffy, who was standing apart, smiling. "Some work out," Willow said.
Buffy grinned again. "Yeah, some work out," she agreed.
"More for your mind than your body, I'm thinking," Willow said.
Buffy shook her head. "I never realized that I...trusted...Faith," she said. "The concept of trusting her has been so natural for the last few months. I had to, so I did," she shook her head again, emphatically. "But fighting her again...actually fighting her...it brought all of the old memories back. I suppose that I realized what Faith really means to me...to us...just now."
Willow just smiled.
Craig sat in his tree, watching from a distance. The two Slayers were good. Perhaps they weren't as good as him, but they obviously had skill.
He smiled. Fighting one of them would be fun.
He relaxed back into his branch. He'd been watching the Slayers train for nearly a week now. He knew many of their exercises by heart. There were a few that were unfamiliar to him, but he could guess most of their meanings quickly.
He'd been raised to fight, after all.
He contemplated asking Dumbledore for permission to train with the Slayers. Then he thought better of it. He would enjoy watching more.
As far as he knew, none of the Slayers knew of his presence; he wanted to keep it that way. It was so much better to observe them from a distance. After all, there was a good chance that they would be killed in combat, and he didn't want to get too friendly.
Friends made lousy voices.
They were there, too, the voices. They never left, which you already know, but he had been ignoring them completely during the fight. The two Slayers were mesmerizing. He'd been able to ignore the voices completely for the first time in...gosh, how long had it been since that had happened?
Craig shook his head. Just then, he noticed the boy walking down from the castle. Harry. Harry Potter.
The one and only.
Once again, the voices swelled. This boy invoked a large response from the voices. So much so that Craig had decided to avoid the Boy Who Lived. They would meet, eventually; that was a given. But for now, avoiding him was quieter.
Craig loved quiet more than anything else. However, his concept of quiet isn't the same as our own.
You'll get that later.
Seeing that Harry was delivering a message, Craig deduced, quickly, that it was from Dumbledore. Craig hadn't spoken much to the old man since his arrival at Hogwarts; indeed, Craig hadn't spoken much to anyone since his arrival at Hogwarts.
Anyone living, anyway.
Dumbledore hadn't ever sent a runner to Buffy, though, so Craig decided that it must be something important. As the Slayers walked up to the castle, Craig followed, keeping his distance and maintaining his anonymity.
He entered the castle about a minute after the larger group did. They left a scent trail that might just as well have been a bunch of flashing neon signs - so many teenage girls equals a lot of perfume and deodorant. They had gone in the Great Hall. Craig came up to the door, and pushed it open just enough to see who was inside.
There was one large table set up in the middle of the room. Dumbledore sat at the head of it, with Harry sitting down at his right. Buffy sat at this left, with all the other Slayers taking up seats along the table.
Dumbledore had realized that Craig was there the second the door had opened. Craig was fairly sure that no one else had noticed, so he was content to melt away into the shadows at the corner of the Hall. If there was anything Dumbledore needed him to hear, he would hear it. And if Dumbledore wanted him gone - unlikely - than he would leave.
Craig settled back and waited for the meeting to begin.
Harry sat down where Dumbledore had gestured. When he had told the professor that he was unable to find Craig, as usual, the older man had simply smiled and told Harry that it was okay.
Strange.
Seeing that everyone was seated, Dumbledore began. "Now that you're all here, I'd like to begin," he said. "Yesterday, I used the Hogwarts location device, the Box of Rixx, to search for Slayers. I have the results here." He held up a sheet of parchment.
Buffy leaned forward. This was the reason that she had come to England...Buffy felt that side of her that made her do her duty swell up.
"It's a rather extensive list," Dumbledore went on. "It details the name and location of every newly risen Slayer on the planet. Added up, I believe it comes to a round five hundred names."
There was a series of small gasps from around the table. Five hundred...Harry's mind wandered away.
"To my surprise, I found that several Hogwarts students are on the list," Dumbledore said. "I believe it would be best if we started with them..."
At this, Harry leaned forward. A sneaking suspicion had entered the back of his mind...something about the way the Slayers were...something familiar.
"There are three Slayers currently attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. He was carefully avoiding Harry's eyes, a fact that Harry noted briefly. "The first is Susan Bones, a Ravenclaw girl. I believe that Susan will not be a difficult case...she is used to having her world turned on its head..." and he explained about the murder of the Bones family.
Buffy wanted to be sick. This world was so full of orphans...but now they'd get a chance to fight back.
"The second is Emily Doyle, a Hufflepuff fifth year," Dumbledore continued. "Emily is a fairly moderate girl...raised by her wizard parents...marked down for Hogwarts from a young age...not much has happened in her life that she would find strange or alarming. She might be more difficult."
Dumbledore paused. He obviously didn't want to say what was coming. He glanced quickly at Harry, and Harry knew. It was like a light bulb going on in his head.
"Ginny," he said. "My girlfriend...is a Slayer."
"Talk!" Angel roared. He lifted Rookwood's face out of the water. "This isn't nearly as pleasant for you as it may seem, but I'm sure I could get used to it. Now you're either going to tell me what I want to know, or you're going to take another little swim."
The Death Eater was soaking and freezing cold, but he didn't say anything. He'd been tortured by worse things than a vampire with a soul.
"I won't tell you anything, vampire," he muttered under his breath.
Angel was frustrated. It had been nearly two days since the attack on Wesley's home. Rookwood had woken up an hour or so after the fight had ended and promptly sealed his mouth shut. Angel had been hard pressed to get him to open it long enough to eat.
Now, the Death Eater wouldn't even tell Angel why it was that the vampire had been attacked.
"Who sent you?" Angel asked.
"Don't you know?" Rookwood replied. He sneered.
"Would I be asking...aw, screw it," Angel said. He punched Rookwood in the jaw, sending the wizard's head sharply back.
When he regained some semblance of focus, Rookwood managed to say, "Do you enjoy torturing an unarmed man?"
Angel grinned at him. It was not a pleasant smile. "I used to," he admitted. "Not so much anymore, though. Tell you what," he continued, on sudden inspiration, "I'll let you have your little wand back, and we'll have ourselves a fair fight. If you win, then...well, you win, and you get to leave. If I win...you tell me what I want to know. Get it?"
Rookwood considered a moment. He had no intention of ever telling the vampire anything, but he did want his wand back. In the end, he decided against it, though. He spat in Angel's face.
"No deal, freak," he said.
Angel turned to go, but stopped. "Freak?" he asked.
"Yes, freak," Rookwood went on. "You're a paradox; a vampire who doesn't want to kill. You're a freak!"
"You've met many vampires?" Angel asked, without turning to look at Rookwood.
"Ahh, yes," Rookwood said, happily. "Our army is comprised of many of the worst vampires..." he trailed off.
Angel turned to him and smiled. "Thanks," he said. He ignored Rookwood's furious shouting and cursing as he ascended the stairs. He shut the door at the top, blocking out the man's yelling.
"Did you get anything out of him?" Wesley asked, upon arriving back in the main hall. Everyone was assembled there, waiting for Angel's word.
"A little," Angel said. "He mentioned an army of vampires. I'm thinking that wherever there's a ton of demonic activity...there's the sponsor of the attack last night."
Wesley was staring off into space. "What?" Angel asked.
"This man..." Wesley began, "did you happen to notice a tattoo on his arm?"
Angel shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "A skull and a snake. Why?"
Wesley snapped his fingers. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I should have seen it earlier, of course, but...never mind that. This man is a Death Eater. A minion of Voldemort."
Everyone took a moment to absorb this news. "Then Voldemort has an army of vampires..." Fred said.
"We need to find Buffy," Angel said. "She needs to hear this."
"She'll be at Hogwarts, with any luck," Wesley said. "That was her destination. We can only hope that she is there by now."
"Then I guess that we need to go to Hogwarts," Angel said.
What did you all think? This chappie came out better than I could have expected. And fast, too - yet somehow, it doesn't feel nearly as rushed as the last one. That new direction is definitely in the works. So, as always, leave me your questions, comments, criticisms, and what have you. I love you all, and thanks for your continued support of me and my writing. Peace out, kids.