Title: Counted as Clay Jars

Author: Indarae

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Dawn/Harry... a little. Hints of Joyce/Giles in the past.

Summary: With Dawn's father absent after Buffy's death, care for the younger Summers falls to one Rupert Giles. However, even as life returns to normal, pieces of his past come back to threaten the future.

A/N: Whew. Crazy work week, almost over. I'm looking forward to getting back to school in the fall - it'll be exciting to be using my degree for something. I mean, what do you do with a BA in religious studies - other than grad school?

I'm glad so many of you have been enjoying this little foray into crossoverland.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter Seven — Primal Force

August 8

Potter charged off after finishing his food, so quickly that he jarred his hip against one of the long tables on the floor and cursed loudly enough that Professor McGonagall heard, and looked taken aback. "Is he always rude?" Dawn asked the woman, poking at the potatoey-waffle-thing, the only bit of the breakfast in front of her that seemed edible.

The professor gave her a close inspection. "He's a good boy, Miss Giles. It's been hard for him to adjust, I think."

"Adjust to what? He's an orphan, yeah, I got that. So what? My mom and my sister died this year and I had to leave my home without saying goodbye to anyone and I nearly got killed by a seriously evil wizard. I didn't know I was a witch until last month! I've got stuff to adjust to, and I'm not being rude. Well, too rude, anyway." Dawn shrugged, confused by the bafflement on McGonagall's face.

"You don't know who he is?" she asked.

"Well, he told me his name's Harry Potter, which I guess is kinda funny... I keep getting this mental image of a really hairy guy putting plants in a pot... but from the way you're looking at me, I'm guessing I should really know who he is?" Dawn blushed. "I mean, I'd never heard of Hogwarts until g-Dad gave me one of his books to read."

McGonagall set her fork aside, lips thinned in displeasure. "I'm quite surprised at Rupert. He should've told the story... You are aware that your father was once a follower of a Dark wizard, called L-lord Voldemort?" She stuttered over the name, blushing slightly. "Forgive me, it's difficult to say his name."

Dawn snorted. "What, Voldemort?" McGonagall let out a little gasp and Giles swivelled in his seat to look at Dawn in surprise. "Dude, what's the biggie? Potter runs around saying it. It's a stupid name — what idiot calls himself Voldemort?"

"Most witches and wizards do not speak his name," McGonagall said, face a pinched white, fear or something else. "Most of us call him 'You-Know-Who' as we fear speaking his name might bring him back."

"Bring him back? He, er... went away?"

"He was defeated, almost fifteen years ago, by a one-year-old child by the name of Harry Potter," Giles said quietly. "I'd fled before then... I was living in Bath with my father, training to be a Watcher when Quentin Travers promised to keep my secret. On Halloween..." He grabbed his left arm reflexively, where Dawn knew his icky tattoo was. "The Dark Mark burned for hours that night, as he called his followers together. And then, near midnight — there was a pain so sharp I fell to the ground, followed by nothing. When I looked, the mark had disappeared. I heard of the name of Harry Potter for weeks, as the Watchers tried desperately to learn why he lived when so many others died. There were no answers, so I thought I was free of him." He shook his head and sighed.

"His parents were key members of the fight against V- You-Know-Who," McGonagall continued, looking slightly defeated by her own inability to say the name. "James and Lily Potter, both students of mine. They'd gone into hiding — using the same spell as your father, actually — but were betrayed by their Secret Keeper. You-Know-Who appeared at their home. He killed James. He tried to kill Harry, but Lily sacrificed herself to give him more time. And then he attempted to finish the murder of Harry."

"Her love protected him, Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly, from beyond Giles. "Love — that primal force of which we have little understanding. A mother's love for her child is the strongest in the universe... The curse rebounded off of the protections given in Lily's sacrifice and hit Lord Voldemort instead, and he disappeared."

McGonagall scowled. "Not dead, though. Missing. He created a new body for himself just over a year ago, using Harry's blood, in part." Dawn tried not to wince as she saw her sister in her mind's eye — She's made with my blood. She's my sister. — and she watched again as Buffy hurled herself from a rickety tower to save Dawn's life — The blood had to stop flowing. Dawn looked down at her hands, where the blood of a Slayer flowed. Had she gained some protection for that sacrifice, the same way as Potter? "Mr. Potter was there when it happened," McGonagall was continuing. "He saw You-Know-Who rise, and saw a fellow student murdered. And I'm told he recently learned of the prophecy telling of the end."

"He must face Lord Voldemort. Harry, and none other," Dumbledore murmured.

Dawn glanced back and forth at the solemn expressions surrounding her and gave a shrug. He was a special kid — well, so was she. She was the Key. She knew what it was like to be different. And the best way to get past it... was to be treated normally. "Well, 'least it's not another apocalypse. Can I try on the funky hat now?"

------

Harry finished scribbling his letter to Ginny Weasley and attatched it to Hedwig's leg. "Hurry, Hedwig. It's a very important letter for Ginny."

Hedwig hooted and gave his finger a nip before setting off into the morning sun.

It was an important letter, indeed. Earlier in the year, he'd feared Voldemort possessing him, but Ginny had asked his symptoms and proclaimed that he wasn't being possessed at all. She should know, after all, since Voldemort had possessed her in the form of Tom Riddle in her first year at Hogwarts. She'd described memory lapses — of waking somewhere and not knowing how she'd got there.

The other night, he woke right where he was supposed to be, of course... but Miss Giles had claimed he'd grabbed her and said something. A memory lapse. He stood at the window and watched as Hedwig disappeared, query in claw, to find an answer. He didn't want to bother Dumbledore... but look what had happened last time? Rather than saving Sirius' life, Harry had been the indirect cause of his death.

He headed off to find Giles and ask more questions about the important things, like Slayers and demons and growing up knowing about vampires but not about the magical community as a whole. She wouldn't be a friend, he knew — but somehow, she seemed a kindred spirit. And Hermione had suggested befriending a few Slytherins...

------

It was a funky hat, alright. It was an animate object, hopping around on the Headmaster's desk when he pulled it down from a shelf, and its patched facade appeared like a face. Dawn didn't scream until its stitched-flap mouth opened to speak. "How now! Is it time for the students already, old man? I've another stanza to complete!"

Giles was holding down her shoulders to keep her from darting out of the chair, and whispering in her ear that everything would be alright. Dumbledore didn't seem the least bit surprised by the hat. "No need for the song yet, my friend. You have a month... I have a single Sorting today, an older girl who only recently discovered her heritage. You'll remember her father, Rupert Giles...?"

"Hmph. He was a bugger to sort. Yes, well... try me on, girl, don't dare be shy. I am the famous Sorting Hat — I never lie!" The hat hopped forward a bit, fabric face morphing into an expression of intense annoyance. "Bugger it all, that rhyme was terrible."

Dumbledore only chuckled and lifted the hat. Giles took a step back — Dawn reached out to grab his arm for support, but he was out of her grasp. And then, the nasty-looking hat was dropped on her hair from above and slipped to cover her eyes in blackness.

Well, there. This is a surprise, the Hat said, its voice echoing through her head. You're not a Giles at all.

"I am!" she snapped out loud, then covered her mouth and tried responding in her head instead. She didn't want Dumbledore and McGonagall to know all her secrets. I am, too. He adopted me. He's my father now.

You're just full of secrets... Oh, don't worry, I can sort you, alright. I can sort you easily. But I'll put you at ease, first: you fear you're nothing but a ball of energy? You are human, Dawn Marie Summers. You are every bit as human as that man you call father and the sister you mourn for. You work hard and stand bravely, you are quick to learn... any House would be proud to call you their own, but the House for you is the House of secrets. The House for you is the House you must redeem. The hat seemed to chuckle. Of course Harry Potter was right about where you'd belong... because he belongs there too, in the House of Salazaar... "SLYTHERIN!" The hat barked aloud, surprising Dawn into jerking from her chair with the volume of it.

Dumbledore plucked the hat from her head and set it aside smiling down at her. Many of the portraits around his office looked disgruntled, but for one shaking its hands in the air in victory. "Good, good... much what I'd expected, of course, but you'll need to remain in Gryffindor House until the school year starts, or we recover Professor Snape."

"She should be a fifth year," Giles insisted, his hand once again resting on her shoulder. "Can she be a fifth year?"

McGonagall was standing somewhere behind her — she was too busy noticing the newly green and silver stripes on her tie to say much of anything. "She has no magical experience, Rupert, do you really think she could take to the O.W.L.s this year, especially when worrying about you?"

Dumbledore's grin caught her attention again. "We will make a decision in three weeks, one week before the term begins. Mr. Potter is quite a good teacher, I learned this past term... and I have seen her perform a spell, which she did quite admirably, considering she was using Mr. Potter's own wand for it. I do think she will be ready in most subjects. The Malfoy boy may be required to tutor her in Potions once this term begins -"

"Malfoy?" Giles cut in. "Malfoy had a son? Is it safe -?"

"She will have to live in the same House as Draco Malfoy," McGonagall put in, gently. "The hat seems to think she will do quite well there. Mr. Malfoy will be a sixth year, so she won't see much of him. He will likely know that her father is a so-called traitor to the cause... but under Celeste's watch — or under Severus' watch, Gods willing — no one will harm her. Try trusting us for a change, Rupert."

"Trust is the only reason I'm leaving her here," he muttered, and his hand tightened on Dawn's shoulder. He leaned over, whispering into her ear. "Be careful, Dawnie. I'll be leaving soon, to help some old school mates of mine. Be careful, trust nothing a Malfoy says... and be careful of any student named Goyle, Crabbe, Nott, or Avery. Your sister would kill me if she thought I were leaving you in danger."

Dawn jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around her adoptive father. "Be careful, Dad," she whispered. "Be careful, or I'll find a way to curse you from here."

------

Dawn was munching away on a liquorice wand by the time Potter got back to the Gryffindor Common Room, having taken off her shoes and socks to paint her toenails Slytherin green with a spell Professor Sinistra taught her. "Took you long enough," she said, swinging her feet in the air as she lay on her stomach on the red carpeting, methodically going through a Charms spellbook to see how much she could do. "You send that letter off?"

"Yes," Potter said shortly. "And I've spent the afternoon with my guardian and my father's friend, and they think I've got the right of it, too." He slumped into an overstuffed chair, eyes taking in the Slytherin tie hanging loosely around her (top button open) Oxford shirt. "Slytherin, I see."

"Of course," Dawn replied as arrogantly as she could manage. She gave a searching glance over the top of her book. "And the Sorting Hat had a few choice things to say about where it wanted to sort YOU..."

At that, Potter turned a sickly green. "It didn't — I'll tear it to shreds — it told you! YOU of all people!" His hands balled into fists and he slammed them against the arms of the chair. "Don't you dare tell anyone that! Anyone, do you hear me!?"

Dawn snorted and flicked the next page open. What a nutcase — like she was going to bother with his dirty secrets. "Chill. I'll keep quiet if you'll quit screaming every five minutes. You're as bad as Buffy on PMS." She pointed her wand at the book in front of her and murmured, "Mobililibrus," grinning as it lifted off the floor and floated a few inches. "Cool. I've gotta memorize all the spells, but that's from third year, already."

"What year are you?" he asked, face twisted up as though physically pushing his angers away. "You don't look like a third year." That was approval, almost, and Dawn noticed his eyes roaming over her legs.

She fought down a chuckle and swung her legs around in the air again, just to see if — yup, he was tranfixed. All men were the same, just like Mom always told her. "Fifth, Dad says. That's how old I am, at least. They want you to help me catch up. Dumbledore said you were a good teacher, for some reason."

He puffed up a little. "I taught some of my classmates Defense Against the Dark Arts the last two terms, when the teacher was a batty old b -" he halted and gave a grimace, " -witch. And Neville owled and said he got an Excellent on his Ordinary Wizarding Level in the subject. Neville could barely remember the spells before the group started."

"Great, great. Sounds fine. I just don't know how much use a wand could be against a vampire, except as a stake." She let the book fall to the floor and flipped her wand in her hand, miming stabbing a vampire. "Wood. Nice grip. No vamp'd have a chance."

"You could freeze the vampire first, before it had a chance to attack anyone," he pointed out. "The spell for that is petrificus totalis. It wears off... but it would be plenty of time to let someone stake it. And expelliarmus disarms your opponent — dead helpful, whether it's a wand or a dagger."

She nodded. "See, that's the stuff I need to know, considering where I grew up. You'll teach me — even though I'm a Slytherin?"

"Promise not to be friends with Malfoy, and I'll do anything," Potter said, grinning.

Dawn thought back to the man who tried to curse her — his silver-white hair streaming from around the sinister mask, his eyes glinting evilly through the eye holes. That was one promise she felt she could make. "If he's anything like his dad, you won't have any problems."

"Worse," Potter promised. "Draco Malfoy's worse." He took his wand from his back pocket and twirled it between his fingers. "Alright, then. Let's go find Tonks — she's my legal guardian — and see if she'll let us practice on her? She's an Auror, that's the magical police, and might have some suggestions to make..."

"Sure." Dawn bounded to her feet, pulling her socks on as she went. "I need all the practice I can get.

------

August 20

A good week and a half of her crash course in magic had gone by before anything else of note happened, and Tonks had assured her she'd easily finished third-year Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, not to mention the Herbology and Astronomy that Professor Sinistra was helping her through. Potions was sure to be a problem, as Tonks was a disaster and Sinistra had long forgotten which ingredient was which. Sunday found her dozing on the window seat in the Gryffindor Common Room after a grueling lesson in Stunning Charms with Potter and Tonks. Giles, who'd been in and out mysteriously for days, shook her awake gently. "Dawn, we've a trip to make."

"Mmm?" She rubbed sleep from her eyes. "Trip? Shopping?" She perked up, hoping those new robes might be in her future — she wanted some exactly like Madame Pomfrey's, with big angel sleeves, except in a dusky rose instead of red..

"No. The Headmaster has cleared us for a trip back to Sunnydale by floo powder, just for long enough to check in with everyone and to find anything we need. He mentioned there were police out looking for us in America. Remus Lupin heard about it through a contact of his."

That was enough to get Dawn out of bed. "Police? Didn't they get the letters we left for them?"

Giles grimaced. "I fear the Death Eaters may've searched the flat; found the notes... I hadn't brought it to your attention, as I wished to keep you from worrying, but now..." He gave a light shrug. "The closest floo hub to Sunnydale is in LAX."

"Wait. Los Angeles International Airport has a floo hub!?" Dawn's eyes narrowed. "I thought I couldn't do magic within a hundred miles of -"

"It's a very small hub," Giles hastened to say. "Only three fireplaces in commission. It's generally a stopover point between Honolulu and Seattle, Chicago, or Salem. New York's is quite large, too, but Salem has over a hundred fireplaces in constant use."

"So we're going from here, to Salem, to LAX?" she asked slowly, digging through her pile of clothes to find something clean and Muggle-ish.

Giles checked his watch. "We need to hurry, Nymphadora Tonks has gone ahead to procure a rental car under my name... we're going from the Headmaster's Office to the London Hub, through right to LAX. Waterloo East's the largest hub in the world. Wouldn't know it from the train station above." He scooped up her house robes from the floor. "Wear these. They give student discounts."

She stared longingly at her tshirt and shorts, but took the robes from Giles. "I'll meet you downstairs in five minutes."

"Less," Giles demanded, leaving the room. She changed and hurried to brush her teeth, grumbling under her breath. Yes, she was excited to have a trip home, to get those things she'd been forced to leave behind in their flight. She wasn't so excited to face Willow, Xander, and Spike. Spike in particular — if he hadn't found the note she'd left, would he think her dead? Would he be dead? It was no secret what Xander thought of him; and Spike made no attempt to hide the anguish he felt over losing both Joyce and Buffy. Would he have finally decided it was time to end his (un)life? Or did he even have the courage?

She didn't have enough friends from high school to bother calling them. A few might wonder: the school officials would certainly need a letter from Dumbledore explaining the school change. There were so many details that needed to be attended to before the school year could start — Dawn was finding a new appreciation for what Buffy had done in the wake of their mother's death. And then she was ready to go, and she couldn't put off her worries any longer. "See ya, Potter!" she called, giving a gloating smile to her sometimes-adversary as she passed him in the Common Room. He looked envious; he hadn't left the castle since she'd arrived and, from all accounts, his summer had sucked mightily before that.

Their travels were long and boring and, before much time had passed, she found herself wishing she'd brought a book. Giles and Mr. Lupin were chatting in the front seat of the car, and Tonks was trying to entertain Dawn by changing the size of her ears or the colour of her hair when she wasn't looking. Even that wasn't enough — there was a feeling of foreboding that only increased as they grew nearer Sunnydale. "We should go to the Magic Box. They should be at the store," Dawn spoke up when the rusting 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign came into view. Someone had hit the poor old thing again, and it was tilting wildly to the side, a beat-up tribute to the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

"They'll have changed the locks on the townhouse," Giles said practically. "I expect Tara and Willow to have moved in by now; I only hope they've kept some of our personal belongings."

"They think you're dead," Tonks said, concentrating and making her hair a burnished auburn, in imitation of a woman they'd just passed on the side of the road. "People keep remembrances." Her hand strayed to a chain around her neck; presumably such a token.

"The time difference is significant, a full eight hours. Anya should still be at the Magic Box," Giles was saying as they rounded familiar corners. "She was often there long past midnight. Be careful of vampires, though; they'll bite anyone."

Lupin grinned. "I'll taste horrible."

Giles gave a snort back. "Yes, well, they've tried to nibble on Xander. Vampires here seem to have very little taste."

They parked and approached the lighted storefront as a group, wands clandestinely held in Tonks' and Lupin's hands. Dawn frantically reviewed the bits of spellwork Potter taught her, firmly intending to do Buffy proud if they met up with a vampy crowd. None of it was needed, though, and Dawn peeked through the Magic Box window to catch a few familiar faces seated around the table next to the cash register.

Before Giles could prevent her, she banged loudly on the glass and waved her arms in the air, trying to catch their attention. "Anya! Hey, Anya, Xander, we're out here! Hi, Tara!"

Tonks grabbed her shoulder. "Damnit, Dawn, there are other ways — we could be watched by Death Eaters -"

"In America, Tonks?" Lupin was saying. "There were no reports -"

"He wasn't interested in the colonies, not in the 70's," Giles added, "but I can say nothing of his ambitions today."

And then the door of the Magic Box was thrown open and Xander frantically pulled Dawn into the shop by the sleeve. "God — oh, God, Dawnie, we thought you were dead — who are these people, where's Willow? G-man, where's Wills?"

"Willow isn't with us. She was never... she's b-been gone? For how long?" Giles ushered Lupin and Tonks inside and shut the door. Anya was tugging on Xander's sleeve, Spike was hanging back with his gaze fixed firmly on Dawn, and Tara had broken out into tears; Dawn could barely listen to Giles and Xander as Tara's hugs were cutting off her hearing, circulation, and higher brain functions.

"Dawnie! Dawnie, we w-were s-s-so worried... you w-were gone, and your clothes were t-tossed all around your room, but Mr. Gordo was — was g-gone..." The other witch touched her cheek, her hair, her shoulder, as though assuring herself that Dawn was, in fact, solidly there. And then she looked more deeply and her stutter disappeared. "You've been using magic. Lots of magic... you're bathed in it; it's a glow on you." The glare fixed firmly on Giles. "You too. Magic. All of you... what's been happening to you?"

"It is too much to explain now! What's happened to Willow?" Giles grabbed Tara's shoulder. "The house; was it ransacked?"

"Where's Spike?" Dawn demanded. He was the only one not in the room, the only one who should be there, but wasn't. He vowed to protect her — only Giles had taken the job instead. No one answered; they were too busy paying attention to the panic flickering across Giles' face.

"It was a pigsty," Anya griped. "I had to clean the whole thing up and Xander wouldn't help. There were ripped up papers and books thrown all over the place -"

"Since the day you disappeared, G-man. She went over to your place; we just assumed she'd left with you... but she hasn't? Giles... man, Giles, we've got to find her... the police were looking..." Xander rubbed his eyes. "God, if I'd known..."

"What does Willow look like?" Tonks asked, poking around at a table of merchandise.

Xander shrugged, keeping one hand on Dawn's shoulder tightly. "Red hair. Green eyes. Shortish, skinny. She's my age..."

Lupin cut him off, peering at Tonks. "Harry's red-head? Could it be?"

"That's my guess. They found her instead of these two... Damn... I thought we only had to get Snape back." Tonks rubbed her face. "Rupert, I'll bet Harry didn't mention his dream to you..."

"He dreams of the Dark Lord. Headmaster Dumbledore told me," Giles murmured. When Xander and Anya exchanged confused glances, he shook his head. "Please don't ask me, Xander, I can't tell you all of it. Nymphadora, I'm assuming the dream you spoke of included Willow in captivity?" Giles winced. "Was she tor- hurt at all? Has he seen Severus again?"

Tonks glared as Giles used her first name, but answered anyway. "She was hurt, but You-Know-Who offered to help her. To teach her magic, I think Harry said. She accepted the offer. Snape was nowhere to be seen."

Tara seemed offended. "Willow wouldn't help a Dark Lord! Sh-she's good, and kind, and she helped B-buffy save the world!"

"She'd do anything to bring Buffy back," Anya inserted.

"But -" Xander cut himself off, shooting a glance at Dawn before starting again. "Buffy's dead. I thought magic couldn't bring people back from the dead."

Giles looked ready to answer, but it was Dawn who spoke. "Magic can do it, but it's Dark magic. And sometimes people come back wrong," she whispered, refusing to meet Giles' eyes.

"Voldemort wasn't dead, but he had no body, after Halloween of '81. He made himself a new body, he came back from the precipice of death," Lupin said. "Would this Willow try to use Voldemort's knowledge to fashion a new body?"

"She could use the robot body," Anya said. "All she would need was a way to attach the soul. And to find the soul."

"She can attatch the soul; she gave Angel back his," Xander reminded her.

They started arguing the logistics, but Dawn noticed Giles' absence from the conversation. She glanced up and found him looking at her. He leaned over to whisper. "You tried, didn't you."

Dawn nodded. "I tried to bring Mom back. But Buffy came and... I think the spell worked, but I think I brought back a zombie, and I- I destroyed — it, before it came to the door -" She stopped abruptly. "What if Willow brings Buffy back, and she's a zombie? I can't imagine — we couldn't have a zombie looking like the Slayer running around, but Giles, we couldn't kill Buffy, not even if it really wasn't Buffy anymore..."

"Nobody will try. I'm going to find Willow, and I'm going to stop her." Dawn realized that the whole of the store was listening to Giles talk, now. Giles, however, didn't seem to notice the overwhelming interest in his speech. "It will be ages before she could have the tools. Willow would need to become a Dark Witch to do that spell — she would call up magicks darker than she's touched before, even living on the Hellmouth. I know... I was there, I've seen the blackest of the Black..." He gently took Dawn's hand and rested it on his left forearm, where the Dark Mark was burned into his skin. "She would have to gather the blood of an innocent. She would have to come here, to Buffy's grave. She would need a certain clay vessel, the Urn of the Egyptian God of the underworld, Osiris -"

"Wait," said Anya, breaking into the speech. The others glared at her, Tonks seeming eager to hear the rest of Giles' story. Anya darted across the store, shoving Xander bodily out of her way, and returned with a clay jar decorated in Egyptian-looking hieroglyphs. "The Urn of Osiris. I got it on ebay."

For a long moment, Giles stood silent and still, hand clamped on Dawn's. Finally, he turned to glare at Anya. "Ebay? You bought the Urn of Osiris on EBAY! Did she ask you? Did WILLOW ask you?"

His eyes were blazing and Dawn, being taught by the best and brightest, could see the flare of a magical aura surrounding him — an angry red swirled with black. Lupin seemed to have caught it, too, as he drew his wand and pointed it not at Anya but at Giles. "Rupes, mate, put your wand down."

Dawn hadn't noticed him take it out; however, she knew just how to stop it. Snagging her own wand from her skirt waistband, she leveled it on her father. "Expelliarmus!" The magic, directed through the wand, felt dirty. Black. She shuddered under the power of it.

Giles jerked to the side violently, more so than he should've under the spell Dawn had cast at him. His wand zipped across the remaining space into Dawn's off hand, but he barely seemed to notice. The sparking of his aura was still there, though Lupin seemed confident enough to grab Giles' shoulder and shake him. "Rupert, she's an unarmed Muggle -"

He wasn't listening to Lupin. "Was she planning it, Anya?" His voice had gone a steely monotone, his rage far surpassed any Dawn had seen before, and his eyes — his eyes had the same hard, cold look as Lucius Malfoy's through the mask, when he'd tried to curse Dawn. He was Ripper, and Dawn saw what Slytherin might make of her. "Did she know what she was getting into, or did she think she was going to save the world?"

"I-I don't know!" Anya wailed, backing up into Xander, who'd moved to her side. "Giles, I promise, I didn't — I should've realized it, I know enough about artefacts, but this one — it's old, Giles, it's the only one left, and it's older than I am by thousands of years!"

Xander wrapped his arms around Anya protectively. "What if she got sent to Hell, like Angel? What if she's suffering, even now? We buried her body — but where's her soul?" Dawn let out a soft gasp. She'd never thought of that; she'd never considered her sister might be someplace bad. Someplace cold and scary and full of demons. Someplace like Sunnydale, but where good didn't win.

"SHE'S GONE!" Giles roared, anger filling the Magic Box. But then, without warning, he slumped to the side, stumbling against Lupin, who opened his arms to support the Watcher. "She's dead," he whispered, "and we can't bring her back without making a monster of her. She's with Joyce now."

Xander nudged Anya aside and advanced on Giles; Tara dashed forward to help Anya restrain him. Though halted, Xander barely seemed to notice. "Torment, G-man! We could be leaving her to be tortured for the rest of eternity!"

"Or she could be in paradise," Tonks said suddenly. "What makes you think she'd go to Hell? She was a Slayer, right? She was a hero. Heroes go to eternal paradise, not burning fires!" She paused, sharing a significant look with Lupin. "If heroes don't go to heaven, the rest of us are sure doomed."

Xander seemed to wilt, too, and Anya was there to catch him. "We never thought of that, did we?" Tara murmured. "All the thought and planning... we should've known better than that..."

"Watch her grave," Giles said hoarsely. His face was wet with tears; no one commented. "Watch, and protect that urn. Don't sell it, Anya, not for all the tea in China."

"I don't drink tea," Anya muttered, but Xander quieted her.

Dawn didn't realize she'd been crying, too, until Tonks wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Do you want to go home, Dawn?" Potter's guardian murmured.

For a moment, Dawn was disoriented. Wasn't she home? Here, in the Magic Box, where it always smelled like incense, and Buffy was training in the back room to the sound of the Indigo Girls? But it wasn't; not anymore. Home had become a cold, stone tower with red drapes and an annoying tower-mate. "Yeah," she croaked, wiping furiously at the tears. "I want to go home."

"I'll drive you back to LAX. Your dad can get anything you need," she said quietly, and led Dawn toward the door.

She didn't look back at Buffy's friends, not even to ask about Spike again. Instead, she turned back to Lupin and Giles. "Find Mr. Gordo?" she whispered. "I don't need anything else. I don't need to be here ever again."

And it was true. Because without Buffy... Sunnydale was nothing but a gaping hole.