I'm glad people like this! Anyway, that's everyone who reviewed! Comment's about this mean a lot to me!
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Harry Potter, and I am not making money out of this.
Btw, just so people know, I will not be updating this as frequently. My focus is on 'the Youngest Evans' and I also have other stories that really need finishing, so this is not my priority. I will hopefully get chapters up one a week, maybe one a fortnight. It really depends on how much work I have, etc. And I have a lot of work. A lot of work.
Also, for Twisting the Hellmouth, can someone please tell me how to sort out the chapter?! Because whenever I post chapters, it comes out in really weird formatting. I would be grateful if someone told me how to fix it.
Anyway, on with the chapter!
Chapter 1.
Monday afternoon, 15th of November.
"C-can anyone tell m-me w-what a 'quintaped' is?"
Draco was bored. With his head rested on his hand, his eyes fixed on nothing particular, his ears mildly listening and his brain fixed on Quidditch tactics. That was all Draco ever thought about in Defense Against the Dark Art classes. It was such a useless class. Actually, the teacher was useless. The topics were normally interesting, but the teacher was appalling.
The name of the teacher was Miss Scott. Or Miss Scotland. Or Miss Scones. Something beginning with 'S' anyway. And Draco was definitely sure she was not married.
The entire class was asleep, and Miss-whatever-her-name-was had answered her question herself. Something about a dangerous carnivore, Draco was not sure, because he was not interested. Neither were Potty and his friends, for they sat two rows up and to the left from where Draco sat. Houses were mixed up in the classes this year, because everyone was taking different subjects. Lucky for Draco though, he had been stuck in the same class for every subject with Granger and Potter. Note the sarcasm.
Potions, DADA, Transfiguration and Charms, all with Potty and the mudblood.
Oh, what fun.
Thank god the Weasel chose to take Care of Magical Creatures instead of Potions, choosing to take the career path of his older brother, Charlie Weasley, in dealing with dragons. Potty and Mudblood were set on being Aurors, although Granger was also taking Arithmancy.
Why did he know all this?
"P-P-please t-turn to p-page sixty." The teacher said, and pages were turned quietly, as the class sat in the chilly cold. Middle of November and it was absolutely freezing.
Miss Scott had short, mousy brown hair and large, bright blue eyes in an unusually small head. Her nose was very pointy, and twitched whenever she spoke. On occasion, when she got angry (which was hardly ever), her ears would flap. They would actually flap. Draco thought she was a cross between a mouse and an elephant. Odd combination, but her figure, short and unusually thin, with large, floppy ears…she was like a mouphant. A mouse and an elephant.
Miss Scott had started teaching at Hogwarts two weeks ago, when her predecessor had disappeared. He had vanished the night before Halloween, never to be seen again. And he had been an all right teacher; Draco had actually learnt some things. But then he had to disappear, and Dumbledore was forced to hire someone else, Miss Scott, a mouphant and who looked like she was only a day older than nineteen.
Draco sighed irritably, looking to his right at Pansy who sat next to him. She smiled and Draco rolled his eyes and looked to the left, over at the Golden Trio. Weasley's head was rested on his arms on the desk, and his eyes were closed. Potter was leaning back on the chair, and Draco could see a Quidditch book on his lap, away from the eyes of Miss Scott. Granger sat upright, appearing to be listening, but every so often, her head would jerk forward and she would look up, alert and eyes searching the room.
Draco laughed silently to himself, Granger, falling asleep in a lesson, who would have thought it?
Draco sat up, making the chair rock back onto his hind legs. He put his hands behind his head and looked around, to the right, where Pansy was, to the left, where Potty was, to the front, where the mouphant was and to the back, at the door, where-
With shock, Draco fell to the floor, the wooden chair clattering against the stone floor. He landed on his butt, his back knocking into a table leg, bruising it terribly. Everyone around him started to laugh, and Draco flushed pink. He glanced over at Potty and his friends and saw that Ron was almost falling over from laughing so hard, Harry was holding his side and Hermione was laughing with her hand over her mouth.
"M-m-mister M-M-Malfoy?" Miss Scott asked, twittering over to Malfoy, his butt, back and ego bruised horribly. Malfoy stood up quickly, and immediately wished he had not, because he started to feel dizzy. "Do you w-want to g-g-go to the h-h-hospital w-ward?" Malfoy looked back at the door and nodded. Collecting his books and bag, brushing off Pansy who was asking if he was alright, and trying hard to ignore the laughter from his fellow classmates, he walked out of the classroom and turned left, heading the wrong way, as the hospital ward was to the right.
"Who the hell are you?" He asked loudly, and the man, who was walking a little in front of him, the man he had seen at the door, stopped and looked at him in disbelief.
"You can see me?"
Draco snorted and turned a corner, the man following him. "Course I can. I'm not bloody blind!"
The man followed him hurriedly. "Where am I?"
Draco stopped and looked at the man, bewildered. "You don't know where you are?"
"I think I've already proven that, 'cos I asked where the bloody hell I am!" The man responded angrily.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's your name?"
"Spike. Yours?"
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
"Shaken not stirred eh?" Spike said with an amused look on his face.
"What?" Draco asked, confused.
"Never mind. Where the hell am I?"
"Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Why do you ask?"
"Because last time I bloody checked, I was fighting in the bloody Hellmouth, crumbling it to dust!" Spike shouted, annoyed.
Hellmouth? Draco thought in confusion. He looked at Spike, and his eyes widened. The reason why Draco had fallen off his chair was because the man, Spike, looked so familiar. And now, Draco knew why. Blond hair, leather jacket, a look of arrogance, this man was in his vision!
"You were in my vision!" Draco shouted loudly, and Spike raised an eyebrow.
"Your vision?" Spike repeated disbelievingly. "Your vision?"
"You were in that crater, and everything was crumbling around you, and that blonde girl was there…"
"Buffy." Spike whispered softly.
"Buffy?" Draco repeated. "Your dog?"
"Buffy." Spike repeated, apparently not hearing him. "I have to find Buffy! I'm alive!" Spike took off running, but stopped when:
"Hold it, vamp." A voice said in the hallway, and Draco and Spike both turned around and look at the man standing in the middle of the corridor. "You can't go running off to the slayer, not yet."
Spike looked at him curiously, and walked back to Draco, standing next to him. "Who are you?"
"My name's Whistler." He said, walking over to the two blondes, touching his bowler hat with his finger. "And I've been sent here, to help you two."
"Help us?" Draco repeated, doubtfully. "I just met Spike; we're not friends or anything."
"But you soon will be." Whistler said, a knowing smile on his face.
Spike and Draco exchanged glances. "Look, I ain't gonna become friends with the midget."
"Hey! I'm almost as tall as you!"
Spike ignored him. "You're not human are you?"
"Nope, I'm a demon."
"You evil?"
Whistler chuckled. "Not all demons are bent on bringing hell onto earth, I have you know. I've been sent here by the Powers That Be."
"The what?" Draco asked, but Spike ignored him.
"What for?"
"Your mission."
"Can someone tell me what's going on here?"
"Mission?"
"Things are changing. Slayers are awakening all over the world, and one has awakened here, in this very castle."
"Slayers? What the hell are slayers?"
"What's that gotta do with me and the kid?"
"I have a name!"
"He's got a destiny."
"I have a what?"
"He's destined to be a Watcher, a Watcher for the slayer in this castle."
"What do I watch? Can someone please tell me what's going on?!"
"So? What has that gotta do with me?"
Whistler looked at Malfoy, whose arms were crossed across his chest. He appeared to be pouting. "You have to help him. Train him to become a Watcher."
Spike chuckled. "I don't train slayers; I kill 'em."
"You haven't done a slayer for a long time mate." Whistler reminded Spike. "In fact, you fell in love with one."
Spike nodded in agreement. "Well, I don't know anything about Watcher's gig, anyway!"
"He needs you. He's gonna have it rough, what with the visions and all." Whistler said, looking at Draco, who was leaning against the wall, watching the pair with contempt.
"Visions? I thought that was Cordelia's job."
"Cordelia is dead, and the PTB have given the visions to this kid. Watcher and Slayer are gonna have it rough, and you need to guide him."
Spike sighed and looked over at Draco. "And what if I don't?"
"They'll probably die." Spike looked back at Whistler, and he shrugged. "The kid's already got enough on his plate already." Whistler whispered, looking over at Malfoy, who was watching them suspiciously. "With your help, he'll be able to deal." Spike glanced at Malfoy.
"Alright." Spike agreed softly. "I'll do it." Whistler smiled at him, gratefully, but Spike glared at the demon. "After I find Buffy."
"That's another thing mate. Only the kid will be able to see you."
"WHAT?!" Spike shouted loudly. "What the hell do you mean?!"
"You're a ghost." Whistler shrugged, unfazed by Spike's yelling. He lifted a hand and moved it to Spike's direction, and Whistler's hand went right through Spike. Spike stared at where Whistler's hand was, amazed and dismayed at the same time. "You're can't leave from a seven miles radius from the lake, you can't touch anything and only the kid will be able to see you. As for the slayer, she won't be able to see you either. When you and the kid see her, you'll know she a slayer." Whistler said, withdrawing his hand. He took a look at his watch and grinned. "Well, I think that's it for now. I'll come back one day and see how you're doing." He touched his hat at Malfoy who was scowling and winked at Spike. "Take care of him, he's gonna need all the help he can get." And Whistler walked down the corridor, turned the corner and disappeared. Spike sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Malfoy and sighed again.
"Are you going to tell me now?" Malfoy asked angrily, and Spike ground his teeth.
"Bloody hell. Stupid brat." He muttered to himself.
"What was that?" Malfoy asked suspiciously.
"Nothing kid." Spike said, walking down the corridor. "Let's take a walk." Malfoy followed curiously. "What do you know about vampires?"
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