Worlds Wrought & Ruined
Chapter 3: Missing After Dark
Spoilers: Buffy Season 7; Angel Season 4; Harry Potter, Books 1 thru 5
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all associated characters, settings, etc., belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, etc. Harry Potter and all associated characters, setting, props, etc., belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Inc., etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Thanks to my brilliant Beta Lady Lestrange. Lady L Rocks!
More thanks to my fellows at The_Seers_Truth group for reading my story and giving it a chance, even though it isn't strictly Harry Potter.
And miz, Silverfox1, Trillium, Radia, Selene12, samson, Incepte, & Lady Lestrange – thanks for all reviewing – it is definitely sisshauss. Responses to reviews are at the end.
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Chapter 3
Missing After Dark
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Time: ~17:30 GMT
Location: Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Scotland UK
~@~@~@~
The group arrived, or more appropriately crash-landed, in the Headmaster's Office. Angel managed to grab onto a nearby chair and steadied himself before he toppled over. His two companions were not as lucky, both sprawled on the floor. Angel set down his duffle bag, crouching, and proceeded to pull out an array of lethal weapons. "That was horrible," he grumbled as he strapped his broadsword to his back.
With a quick shake of his head, Connor reoriented himself and sat up. Following his father's example, he also began riffling through his two duffle bags. Spike simply remained where he was, lying on the floor, and groaned, "I Hate portkeys."
After a few moments of staring blankly at the ceiling, Spike, too, sat up. Rubbing his face, then his temples, he said tiredly, "Hand me my short swords Con." Then he smiled as an idea seemed to inspire him and shot a smirk at the younger boy who was still pulling weapons from both duffle bags. "And kid, try not to lose your sword this time." This elicited an indignant shout from Connor and chuckles from his two elders.
The two wizards, accustomed to the mode of travel, immediately set about their tasks the moment they arrived. Albus fire-called the Deputy Headmistress and asked her to join them. Tonks, waiting to use the fireplace, silently watched with growing apprehension as their three visitors armed themselves with a strange variety of sharp metal implements.
"Nymphadora, I am finished."
The Auror, so intent on watching the strangers, did not even correct the Headmaster. She moved to use the now available fireplace and, after shooting another suspicious glance at the newcomers, fire-called the Auror Division, placing her head in the fire, and gave a quick report to Shacklebolt.
"We brought them back with us. I wish we hadn't, but…" she trailed off worriedly and Kingsley asked her what was wrong. She answered nervously.
"It's, well, it is Severus."
"What about Snape?" Shacklebolt said scornfully.
"The foreseen death—it's him."
A sharp indrawn breath was the only indication of Kingsley's surprise, which he covered by continuing formally and slightly louder, "The Minister wants you to report to him immediately upon your return. But, as you know, an Auror cannot ignore an imminent threat …" he stopped, giving her a significant look.
She nodded once, "Of course Sir, I will report immediately to the Minister," and she pulled her head from the fire. Two of their new companions were staring at her strangely. Self consciously, she straightened her robes, smoothing them, and asked defensively, "What?" The one not staring at her started chuckling, which only made her more irritated and she said louder, "What?"
He just laughed louder and explained, "We aren't accustomed to seeing people stick their 'eads into fires, carry on a conversation and draw their 'ead out without a singed 'air." He cocked his head to the side as he took a staff from the kid and said speculatively, "Tonks iddin't a wizarding name, is it?"
She looked at him sharply, her right hand closing over her wand in her pocket, and said slowly, "No. Why?"
He looked at her for a moment, and then turned his gaze to the staff he had collapsed and was snapping into place on his brace, saying conversationally, "So you know what cell phones are, right?"
She fidgeted and answered vaguely, "I have some idea." He looked up with a raised eyebrow and, at his questioning look, she elaborated, "My father is Muggleborn, yes, but my mother is not, so we don't live with the Muggles."
He had put aside his brace, taking up a scabbard and short sword. "Ah well. Anyway, we use phones to talk to each other, not by sticking our 'eads in fires."
Despite her distrustfulness of their new companions, her curiosity got the better of her and she even took a small step toward them. "That works? You can communicate that way effectively? But how do you find a phone?"
"Just like you find a fireplace," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.
Tonks started to ask another question, but stopped at the sound of the office door opening. She turned from the visitors to the new arrival. "Good evening Professor McGonagall," she greeted politely.
Two of the visitors stood when the Professor entered the office: Angel and Connor. Both were fully armed and Connor began to absently twirl his axe, his ever-present impatient energy needing an outlet.
Albus rose from behind his desk, where he had been casting quick successions of various locating spells on the Potions Master, all for not. "Minerva, thank you for coming so quickly."
She nodded primly in answer and quickly took in the occupants of the office. Then she turned back to Dumbledore, "Headmaster—we did not expect you to be back so soon—"
Albus quickly cut her off, saying sharply, "Minerva—it is Severus. Where is he now?"
She blinked twice, not used to that sharp tone from Albus, but she still answered automatically.
"Severus—he's—he's in the forest, supposedly collecting potion ingredients, but you know that's just his excuse—he goes out there to think and relax." She stopped for a moment, thinking over what Dumbledore just said. "What is Severus?"
Dumbledore walked toward McGonagall, asking hesitantly, "He is not back yet?"
She shook her head, confused, "No—he was upset—he'll be out there past curfew, minimum—why?"
"Damn," Angel swore.
Tonks knew what this meant; the vision probably took place tonight. She took several steps toward the Headmaster and said vehemently, "We have to search the forest now."
Spike nodded at the Auror. "Exactly," he said as he slowly stood, two short swords secured on his person, using his brace. "Gather as many people as possible that are comfortable going into the forest, it is very large and we have to cover it as quickly as possible."
"Albus, what—? Who—?" Minerva said, still very disoriented, looking from Angel to Tonks to Spike.
"The vision I went to hear—" Albus started.
Minerva nodded and Dumbledore hesitated, trying to determine how to best tell her. Spike had no such qualms.
"I saw Drusilla draining your Potions Master dry somewhere in the Forbidden Forest."
Minerva was still horribly confused, "Draining—Drusilla?"
Spike was slowly walking toward them and said simply, "A particularly nasty Master Vampire."
"Oh Dear," she exclaimed, her hand going to her throat. Then she choked, "Severus—"
Albus silently cursed the Seer. Her reaction was the one he least expected and most apprehensive of. He shot a reprimanding look at Spike, who just shrugged and motioned to the hourglass on his desk. It reminded him that time was of the essence. Albus nodded at the Seer and turned his attention immediately back to McGonagall.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders, and said calmly, "Where are the Staff?"
The abrupt change of subject threw her off momentarily, but she quickly collected herself and stated, "They, along with the students, are at dinner. It is—perhaps," she paused for a moment, thinking and then continued, "halfway finished. I believe they are all in attendance." Then her face fell and Albus finished her thought.
"Except Severus." He nodded and then said, "To remedy that, I need you to collect Rubeus and Remus as swiftly as you can without alarming the students."
She nodded, "Yes Headmaster."
"Meet us at Hagrid's hut. From there we will coordinate the search for Severus."
She nodded again and seemed to gain control of herself, pulling her shoulders back and lifted her head up. "We will meet you there," she said as she nodded once at the guests and turned briskly, walking out the door.
Spike came up next to Albus and spoke firmly, "Albus, under no circumstance should anyone engage Drusilla without one of us. She can do a great deal of damage in a short space of time."
Albus nodded, "Of course Wi—Spike. Can we walk and coordinate?"
Angel answered for Spike, walking past both Connor and Spike toward the door. "Yes. We have no time to waste," he said as he continued walking out the door. Tonks followed immediately on his heals, not trusting the vampire a bit, unwilling to let him out of her sight even if he did scare her hair white. Both Albus and Connor moved to follow, but Spike remained where he was standing. Connor noticed and turned toward him.
"Uncle? Are you alright?"
Spike seemed to be trying to figure something out. "I seem to remember something strange about the staircase to this office…"
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!!" Angel yelled in his Irish lilt, echoing up from the Office door.
Albus half-turned back to them and said with a small amount of mirth, "It could be that the stairs have a tendency to move." Then he turned to the stairwell and said louder, slightly concerned, "Mr. Angel, are you alright?" The answer was a grumbled yes, still standing and that the stairs moving just surprised him and he momentarily lost his balance.
"I am also fine, Headmaster," Tonks commented indignantly.
"Of course you are dear, I never doubted it." A grumbled he almost fell on me only made the Headmaster chuckle more.
Spike snapped his fingers and his face lit, muttering to himself, "That's it! Just like escalators."
Albus continued, still smiling, "Well, yes, I believe it is time to leave. If you would follow me." The Headmaster swept out of the office.
Connor looked at Spike worriedly after the Headmaster left. As they walked out of the office together, Connor muttered under his breathe to Spike about the Headmaster, "Is he a little—disturbed? After all, he seemed like he liked this potions master and yet he's smiling at every turn. Does he understand the danger?"
Connor motioned for Spike to go ahead of him onto the stairs. Spike smirked at the kid's questions and limped out, chuckling as he went. "He knows the danger kid—humor is his way of dealing with the stress, even if it does lead to him smile and laugh at the most inappropriate times." Spike paused as the stairs began to move downward, aiding him in navigating the spiral staircase. He looked over his shoulder, grinning at the Destroyer who was a step behind him, ready to catch him if he fell. "Then again, he is almost 150 years old—"
Spike was interrupted by a voice at the bottom of the staircase, saying powerfully, "And proud of every year."
Spike chuckled. "Same old Albus," he muttered softly. Silently, he added, I wish I could say the same for myself.
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Time: ~17:30 GMT
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Scotland UK
~@~@~@~
Harry had been trying to think of what exactly to tell Ron and Hermione. Ron knew, of course, although he had not been in Potions, he was not taking it this year, because—as he had so eloquently put it: 'he had spent five miserable years putting up with the greasy git and it was five years too long and not all the gold in Gringotts could make him spend one more second with that Slimy Slytherin Snake.'
What did he tell them—that he had had a bizarre vision with his great-great-great aunt, who he didn't know, in it? That, in the vision, his aunt had not only appeared as the witch she had been when she died at age 20, but also as a younger American Muggle, around their age. And that this American had yelled at a man, the apparent dreamer, who was named Spike?
The whole wizarding world had thought that he was crazy last year; he really didn't want to affirm that fact to be true to his two best friends. But how to tell them without making himself sound certifiable?
He was also extremely frustrated with the Headmaster—he had gently, but firmly, been told to leave the headmaster's office after they had identified this Elizabeth Potter from his vision. He had wanted to talk about this Elizabeth Potter but the Headmaster had refused to answer him and so had, amazingly, Phineas Nigellus. The Headmaster had promised to tell Harry of any developments, but Harry doubted it. To him, it was a hollow promise from the Headmaster to get him to leave the office with the minimum amount of yelling.
As if responding to his thoughts, a yelling voice pierced his perception.
"Harry! HARRY!"
"Huh?" Harry turned and looked toward the source of the yelling voice: Hermione. She was staring at him with a concerned look on her face. How long had he been thinking? "What is it Hermione?"
"We've been trying to get your attention for five minutes mate. Where were you?" Ron asked in his boisterous voice from across the table.
Harry absentmindedly rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I was thinking about earlier—in Potions."
Ron nodded, seemingly relieved, and Hermione echoed his movement. Ron lowered his voice to a more normal level and asked, "When are you going to tell us?"
"After dinner," Harry said dully.
"We can use the Room of Requirement—alright Harry?" Hermione added.
Harry nodded and looked around the Great Hall. He noticed immediately that Dumbledore was not at the head table—that was strange—the Headmaster never missed a meal. "Hermione—look." When he didn't get a response, or any movement, from her, he kicked her.
"Ouch—Harry!" she yelled. He winced—maybe a little too hard.
"Look," he hissed as he turned to her and then looked pointedly back at the head table. Professor McGonagall also seemed to be missing. He scanned down the table, looking for other absences. Harry heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath when she noticed.
"Ron," she hissed and when he continued to eat, not hearing her, she used Harry's method.
"Ouw—Mione!" Ron said with his mouth full. Once he had swallowed, he started to ask her, "Wha—?" but she quickly interrupted him.
"Look at the head table."
"Why?"
"Because—" Hermione's voice dropped, "there are three teachers missing—one being the Headmaster."
Three? Harry looked away from his friends and scanned the table again. There—at the end where almost no one would notice—was Snape, or rather, Snape's empty seat.
"Harry, do you think it has something to do with your vision?"
Harry shrugged, but, internally, it was a definite yes. He did not believe in coincidence whenever he had a vision—especially when the only two people to hear his vision disappeared.
Ron gaped. "Dumbledore never misses a meal—he is almost as religious about meals as I am—and McGonagall."
"And Snape—do you think he could have been…" Hermione trailed off and looked at Harry, eyes flickering to his forehead.
Harry shook his head negatively, "No—I haven't felt anything—" then he stopped abruptly as he saw Professor McGonagall come in through the teachers' side door. "Hermione."
"I see her." She furrowed her brow. "Does she seem—I don't know—" she stopped, trying to find the word.
"Worried?" Ron supplied.
"Distressed," Hermione said, then, nodding at Ron, added, "And worried."
McGonagall had swiftly walked over to Hagrid and whispered something in his ear. Then she seemed to scurry over to their DADA teacher. She bent over and whispered in his ear. Professor Lupin's eyes widened alarmingly and he turned to her, asking something in return.
"What do you think is wrong?"
"I have no idea," Harry responded absently, watching Hagrid stand and leave through the door McGonagall had just come in through. He looked back at McGonagall and Lupin, to find her shaking her head while standing, straightening her robes. Lupin immediately stood and followed an extremely stiff Deputy Headmistress out of the Great Hall.
"Oh my," Hermione gasped, turning to her two companions. Their heads all drew together in the standard 'Plotting Gryffindor Trio' formation. This, more so than the absence of now five teachers, drew attention from their fellow students, especially the Gryffindors. Before they could start plotting, a fourth head joined them, scowling, her red hair falling into their vision.
"Don't you three even start," she reprimanded. "I know you are up to something—or about to start."
Ron opened his mouth to deny it but Ginny put her hand over his mouth and glared at him. "Do not even begin to lie to me Ronald Weasley," she scolded in a scarily similar voice to Molly Weasley. "I know the signs—hell, half of Gryffindor know the signs." She removed her hand and he snapped his mouth shut. "I know you are conspiring, especially after five teachers are absent from dinner."
Ron gaped at her, Harry just studying her and Hermione simply smiled, reaching across the table to close Ron's mouth. Then she turned to Ginny and, in a stage whisper, said, "I swear, sometimes it seems like the Weasley women are the only ones with sense—and more than half a brain."
Ginny smirked at Ron, who was scowling at Hermione, and nodded her head loftily, "Of course, that's because it's true." Then Ginny's face turned serious and made sure to make eye contact with the other three so that they knew she wasn't joking anymore. "And my whole brain is telling me that you should not even think about following Professor Lupin."
"Why not?" Ron asked earnestly.
Ginny scowled deeply and said angrily, "Maybe because it is not any of your business! You ever think of that?"
"Well—no, but we—"
"Is anyone in danger?" Ginny persisted.
"No, not that we know of, but—"
"But nothing Harry. Are you so eager to repeat past mistakes? It is only the third week of school and already you are looking for trouble."
Harry opened his mouth to argue that it might have something to do with his vision, but stopped and shut his mouth. He hadn't told Ginny he had even had a vision and he hadn't told Hermione and Ron what the vision was—hell, he didn't even know. And Ginny was right—he was about to run off into who knows what. His luck, he would run into vampires.
Harry pulled his head back from the huddle and the others did the same. He gave Ginny a nasty look and grumbled, "I hate it when you make sense, especially when you are not agreeing with me."
"Harry—" Ron started, but Harry waved him off.
"No Ron, as much as you hate to admit it, your sister is right on this. I was about to run off—again—without getting the whole story."
"It's a burden being right all the time, I know, but—" Ginny said haughtily, joking, stopping when Ron slugged her. "Ouw. Ronald, hitting a girl—what would Mum say?"
"She'd say 'Ginny, stop provoking your brother,' and then knock me upside the head for hitting you."
Ginny thought for a moment and then smiled and nodded, "Probably. Then she would add how proud she was that you listened to your sister's good sense instead of running off on another fool adventure. Right?"
"Yes, probably," Ron mumbled, blushing slightly at having his sister dress him down. Then he grinned slightly maliciously and added, "Mini-Mum."
Harry burst out laughing at the look on Ginny's face at being called 'Mini-Mum.' It was a strange cross between outrage and pride. Hermione looked like she was trying to hold back a smile as she suggested that they go up to the Room of Requirement. "Harry, have you gotten the extended shield spell down yet?"
Harry shook his negatively, still laughing at Ron and Ginny's antics. In response to his comment, Ginny wetted a napkin with her spit and attempted to wipe Ron's face clean. Ron literally jumped out of his seat, readily agreeing with Hermione's suggestion, and even started off to the seventh floor, saying he would meet Harry and Hermione there.
Hermione turned from Harry to Ginny, bewildered, "What happened?"
Ginny's smile resembled that of a Cheshire cat and she simply said, "I was just being a Mini-Mum to him." She shrugged, "Dunno why he ran out like that."
That sent Harry into another round of laughter and Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, still smiling. "That's what he gets for comparing me to Mum." Hermione shook her head and stood, walking out of the hall. Harry also made to stand, but Ginny caught his hand. She locked her eyes on him and said, very seriously, "I may be acting like Mum, but it is only because I fancy having my brother and his friends stay in one piece. I am deadly serious about this Harry; I have this horrible feeling that something terrible will happen to you if you go out there tonight. Please, promise me you will not go out there tonight."
"Ginny—" Harry looked away and tried to shrug her off, not wanting to promise to not do something that he still might want to do. Ginny simply tightened her grip on his hand until he was in pain. He looked back at her, shocked, "Ginny!"
Ginny stared at him, her eyes hard and angry at being ignored. Her brown eyes seemed to bore into his and, for a moment, he swore he felt her brush his mind. She seemed to get angrier and Harry shrank back—maybe she had touched his mind. "Do not ignore me Harry James Potter," she growled at him. Her resemblance to Mrs. Weasley was uncanny now, bringing to mind the face of a mother who worried sick for the safety of her loved ones and was angrily telling off the person who had, through ill-thought-out childish actions, just put their lives in danger. Ginny really believed that he would be putting his life in danger by going after the teachers. Mrs. Weasley always seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing when her sons were in danger, or up to something, and it seemed that the talent had been passed to her daughter.
"I promise," he said solemnly and meant it. Ginny nodded. "We will be in the Room until curfew—you can join us if you like."
"I might come up later—I need to work on refining my hexes for the first DA meeting of the year. It's still on for Wednesday right?"
"Yes," Harry said and then asked a little hesitantly, "Do you think you can let go of my hand now?"
Ginny blushed as red as her hair and immediately let go.
Harry laughed nervously and said, "Quite a grip you've got there Gin."
"Sorry," she mumbled. Then louder she said firmly, "But I couldn't let you go out there. You had that gleam in your eye that says 'Harry is about to ignore everyone else and do exactly as he planned in the first place.' Don't scowl at me—it's true! Ask Ron and Hermione, they'll tell you." She snorted, "You had better go before they send out a search party."
He stood as she continued, a little softer than before, "And Harry, if you want to talk about what has been bothering you all day, I'm here. I'll listen quietly and then tell you what a prat you are, worrying over nothing."
He laughed slightly and said, "I'll consider it," as he walked toward the Hall doors.
He glanced over his shoulder to look again at the empty-looking head table and heard Ginny mutter darkly, "A very bad feeling," before turning back so that he didn't walk into a wall. Good thing he turned when he did, he was just about to try walking through the stone wall. Today just kept getting better and better. He shook his head, maybe tomorrow will be better—it was, after all, going to be Saturday. He rubbed his wrist again, grimacing. When had Ginny gotten so strong?
~@~@~@~
"A very bad feeling," Ginny mumbled. She turned and watched Harry almost walk right into the wall. She laughed and shook her head and turned back, scanning the Great Hall. Most everyone had not missed the two teachers leaving, but dismissed it as dinner was starting to let out. Indeed, the Great Hall had emptied considerably. She stood herself and left, walking leisurely. She let her mind wander, forgetting about her brother and his nosey friends, trying to simply relax.
A steady clicking behind her indicated someone following, snapping her attention back into focus. After listening for a moment, she realized it wasn't steady; it was a click-clip and a pause, then another click-clip and pause. It amazed her exactly what she could hear if she concentrated enough. A few more seconds told her who it was and she groaned.
Didn't the boy have anything better to do than bother her? She should have shattered every bone in his foot, not just one; then he couldn't stalk her. She stopped and stomped her foot in frustration. First Harry, Ron and Hermione want to go chase a werewolf and giant around the Hogwarts grounds in the dark and now the ferret!
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Notes to Reviewers:
miz: No Dawn yet…
Silverfox1: lol – Thanks! Greenie is one of my personal favorites!
Trillium: Snape - in danger? Whatever gave you that idea… *grin*
Radia: The brace will be explained, not just yet though. The Spike-Dawn interaction will be fun when we get to it, but they may have more astral conversations. And we will see about Dawn and Connor…And of course the relationships between Spike, Harry and Severus are going to be fun.
Selene12: Yes I will touch on Buffy and Dawn, but not just yet. And Buffy is a flash to her second, Glory death. She is still of the living.
Samson: Thank you for the wonderful, pretty words. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Incepte: Dawn…hmmm, we will see.
Lady L: You ask too many questions :P Should we be worried about Snape? Alone, in the Forbidden Forest, after dark, with an insane, evil Vampire – should we be worried? Maybe. Then again…
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