Disclaimer: Albus Dumbledore is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Brothers and Bloomsbury. Connor and the rest of the gang belong to Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon and some other people I don't know the names of. Either way, I own nothing.
Author notes:
1. There are no words describing how sorry I am for both the shortness of this chapter and for leaving you all in the dark so long. School has been a pain lately (yeah…more than usual,) would it comfort someone if I say I'm writing this when I should be studying for a history test? ::grumblegrumble:: maybe I should wake up sick tomorrow or something…
2. I wanted to thank BAshipper, Lisa, Village-Mystic, aznchibidragon88, The 2nd Evil, blackwolfs900, Angelfirenze, Tituba, Darla56, Alex92 and er…'?????' for their encouraging reviews. I love you guys!
3. A huge thank you to Karen for Beta Reading.
And now, on with the story…
A New World
By Natalie Goldstein
Chapter One: The Choices We Make.
Connor wasn't sure why he headed back to the hotel, it was certainly not because he wanted to say goodbye to the people that didn't care about him, or to ask his demon father for advice. It was almost dawn by the time he stepped into the Hyperion, through the front doors this time. He was slightly surprised to realize that his conversation with the oddly dressed old man had taken all night.
The mostly one-sided conversation had brought up a few issues that, despite being painful, had unwillingly plagued his mind for the past few weeks, his hostility towards magic being a primary concern amongst them. Connor was surprised that he was actually taking in some of the things the man had said, in spite of his instinctive distrust of strangers. It was only when the old man mentioned his connection to Jasmine that Connor was reminded what the man was – he also had the nagging suspicion the old man could read his mind.
Connor was appalled at himself for wanting to say yes immediately. He didn't know the first thing about being a schoolteacher. Hell, he only knew what a school was thanks to television, and he suspected that a school for little witches was not the same type of school he saw on 'Dawson's Creek' reruns. When he had asked the wizard why he wanted him of all people, the old man merely said he knew a good deal when he saw one, whatever that means.
Did the old man put some kind of spell on him on top of reading his mind? Maybe the wizard was controlling him, or at least mystically persuading him without his knowledge?
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on his senses, listening for any sign of movement or speech in the building. He realized the place was deserted. Not sure whether he felt grateful or disappointed, he climbed the stairs and walked toward his room. Or, more accurately, the place he slept during the summer when Angel was trapped in the bottom of the ocean. He had continued to use that room in the short period Jasmine had been in all of their lives. Angel, feeling as though all past mistakes were now behind them, had sent Fred with some money to get Connor some new clothes.
He sat down on the bed after placing his few belongings in a bag he had pilfered from one of the rooms. Taking Dumbledore's offer meant abandoning everything he believed in. Or thought he believed in. Dumbledore's words had hit closer to home than he'd openly admit. The last ten months in this world had changed his perspective on many things. In the privacy of his own mind he could admit to himself that not everything he believed had proven to be true. When he first arrived into this dimension he had expected to find a monster for a father, instead he found a man he had almost began to like. When he found Holtz dead outside their motel room with two holes in his neck, he believed Angelus was responsible. He had punished him by locking him in a coffin for the rest of his unlife.
What a smart move that turned out to be.
In a few months he had adjusted to a world where not everything was black and white as he had believed. He had come to realize that unlike Quor-Toth, here on Earth demons could be good. Did that mean that some magic could be good, as well? Despite his mistrust, Connor was surprised at how much he wanted to take the offer. He knew he couldn't stay in the hotel, he just couldn't. A few hours ago he had seriously considered suicide, he knew it was a sin, but the hopelessness he felt was driving him mad. Now he knew there might be something else for him. The thought made the emptiness in him almost tolerable.
He had made up his mind. Dumbledore had been quite vague when it came to explaining what he would be doing, but he knew he was going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts – and from the sound of it, it was actually a good thing… wasn't it?
As the first rays of light shone through the half closed window, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small envelope he had received from Dumbledore. The headmaster (as man described himself,) told him to hold the slip of paper that was inside the package (along with all his things,) at exactly two minutes past down.
Opening the little package, he found there was indeed a slip of paper inside, 'Welcome to Hogwarts' was written on it in neat handwriting. Suddenly he felt a pulling sensation in his stomach. He began to regret his decision but before he could let go of the piece of paper he found himself in a place unlike any he had seen before.
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The ride back to the Hyperion was uncomfortable to say the least.
The limo that picked them up from the hotel wasn't available to give them a ride back, though they suspected it had more to do with the fact that they refused Wolfram and Hart's offer than to the lack of resources. It was a small miracle they managed to find a cab in the chaos outside. Unfortunately for Angel it was daytime, which meant the sewers were his only option, sitting with Lorne and Wesley in the smelly old cab, Fred almost envied him.
"You don't think Charles meant what he said before, do you?" Fred asked, worry clouding her voice. They weren't together any longer, it was true, but she couldn't help worrying about him. Gunn announced that he was taking the deal Wolfram and Hart offered him despite the others' decision not to. Surprisingly, Angel took it the worst; their argument was still ringing in her ears.
"You're making a pact with the devil." Angel said through gritted teeth. "This isn't something you can just back away from once you've had enough. "
"I know what I'm doing, Angel." Gunn's voice was strong and confident.
"Yeah well, I don't. I'm not sure you even understand what this is all about, Gunn. This place will swallow you whole. Once you sign that contract, you're not one of us. You won't be fighting the good fight anymore."
"You think I don't know that? But if taking this job means I'm doing the right thing, not for the world Angel, but for me, then I'm doing it. I ain't asking your opinion."
"If you sign that contract…"
"Already did."
And with that, Gunn turned his back on them and went back into the elevator where the smirking black woman waited for him. He looked at them with a determined expression on his face as the elevator doors closed before him, leaving them standing in Wolfram and Hart's lobby looking shocked and confused.
"Maybe I should go back, see if I can talk to him…" Fred suggested quietly on their journey back to the hotel.
"Can't say I'm with you on that one, Peanut, you saw what he was like." Lorne said, shifting slightly in his seat. The taxi driver was giving him odd glances through the rearview mirror.
"If he signed a contract…." Fred started.
"It's his choice, Fred. " Wesley said, opening his mouth for the first time since they left the law-firm.
It was almost noon by the time they reached the hotel. The drive was longer than it normally should have been because of the rabble and mess that blocked their way. Still, L.A. had settled down significantly. the pain and despair they all felt when they lost Jasmine's love seemed to be fading somewhat.
The lobby seemed unbelievably empty; it was hard to comprehend that only a few days ago it was crowded with people. "We should start looking for…Angel." Fred said, spotting Angel coming downstairs in a hurry.
"Connor was here." Angel said, with a note of desperation in his voice, "His clothes are gone."
"Well, can't you, er, track his scent? And how did you get here on foot before we did?" the young women asked.
"I can't! It just stops." said the Vampire, not bothering to answer her second question, or maybe just not hearing it.
"Perhaps we should consider a locating spell." Wesley suggested quietly.
"We tried that already." Lorne said, his ever-present Sea Breeze all ready in his hand.
"Yes" the ex-Watcher replayed thoughtfully, "but there might be something else. Wolfram and Hart has a very extensive library… And I had enough time to take some advantage of it."
"All right, then we've got a plan," Angel said, taking off his coat and placing it on a chair behind the counter. "Fred, see if Cordelia left any …" he trailed off and stared down at the floor where a brown package fell from his leather coat.
"What is it Angel?" Wesley asked.
Angel bended down to pick up the package, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "It's from Wolfram and Hart, I gave it back to Lilah after I turned them down. How did…?"
On the small, white sticker on the package was written in clear printed words:
To: Buffy Summers, Sunnydale, CA.