A/N: I love my reviewers! Yes, you. All of you!

I'm in a particularly happy mood, having shuttled the kids to tennis practice and played in the sunshine. Yay. And now, fic.

Chapter Nine - Turbulence

Dawn turned down the covers and slipped into bed. She'd left Harry standing at the point where the staircases parted, smiling as she turned away. He was sweet. Sweeter than any of her sister's boyfriends, that was for certain. He wasn't a vampire, which was better than Angel, though he seemed to have the brooding down. He seemed sincere, which made him tons better than Parker. And he wasn't a demonic killer, which made him better than... whatever Spike had been to Buffy. Although the whole "hunted by the Dark Lord" bit was going to be a little hard to deal with...

A sudden tapping snapped her out of her doze. At first, she didn't know what it was. The room around her was completely dark, so she snagged her wand from under her pillow. "Lumos." Was the tower room considered a residence? If it was, she'd be just fine – vampires would need an invite. But it was a school, and vampires had certainly attacked the high school without a second thought...

The tapping sounded a second time, and Dawn managed to zero in on its location: the window nearest her bed. Her glowing wand held in front of her, both a beacon and a defense, she tiptoed over and poked the window open.

She screamed as a dark shadow fluttered into the room, headed straight for her. What was the right incantation to stop it? She tried to remember, batting helplessly at the talons grabbing at her arm. Talons? And then it settled down on her bed.

It was an owl. "Owl post," she muttered, mentally kicking her stupidity. She hoped Harry hadn't heard her.

The owl was sticking out its leg, looking annoyed at her greeting. Hesitantly, she stepped forward. "Er – sorry about that, I thought you were a... vampire..." The owl hooted softly, and Dawn carefully took the envelope from its talons. "Um... thank you..." Without another sound, the owl launched itself out the window.

Just as she was about to open the letter, a call came from the stairwell. "Dawn? Dawn, are you alright?"

She dashed over and opened the door. "Er – yes, fine."

"What happened?" Harry called. "I'd just gotten back to sleep after -" He cut himself off, sharply. "Well, what happened?"

"It was... an owl," Dawn sighed, trying to control her blushing. "Just an owl."

Dawn couldn't see Harry, but from the tone of his voice, he was amused. "Pesky buggers, aren't they."

"It's not funny," she snapped. "It was dark, and I've never gotten owl post before."

"Come on down here, I'll sit with you while you open it." He tapped on the wall.

She glanced down at the envelope pensively. She didn't recognize the scrawled handwriting. 'Giles, Hogwarts,' was all it said. "Why don't you come up here?" she countered. She didn't really want to go running around in her nightgown, when all was said and done... though Dad would have a fit if he thought she was having boys into her room in the middle of the night.

"Can't. Boys aren't allowed into the girls' tower. An alarm goes off." He sounded sheepish. Dawn longed to ask him how he'd learned that... but decided not knowing was probably better.

"Fine. Hold on a sec." She dashed over and pulled on her Slytherin robes, more for warmth than modesty. The towers were wicked cold, even in the summer.

When she got down to the common room, Harry was waiting for her in oversized flannel pjs. "What've you got? A letter?"

They took a seat on the couch. "Yeah." She handed it to him unopened. "I don't recognize the writing."

"It's neat. I bet it's a girl's." Harry shrugged and gave it back.

Dawn was too curious to talk about it anymore. She tore the top off and pulled out a simple piece of notebook paper. As soon as she'd unfolded it, she winced. "It's not for me," she said. "It's for Dad."

Harry frowned and looked over her shoulder. "Well, it was addressed to you... you're the Giles who goes to Hogwarts..."

"Anya. Anya sent it." Her name was on the back, signed in a hasty scrawl. "We can't send it to Dad, he's undercover."

"Well, read it. If it's news from home, you should know about it, too." Harry shrugged and leaned back, giving her room.

After only a brief hesitation, Dawn turned the letter back over and started reading.

Giles –

We've got a big problem. Two men in masks and black dresses just broke into the Magic Box while Xander and I were cleaning up. They pointed their sticks at us and said something in Latin, and I've never been good at Latin, so I don't know what it was, but then I couldn't move, and neither could Xander.

They took the Urn of Osiris, and one of the Restricted spellbooks, and an orb of Thesula, the one you were using as a paperweight. The spell only just wore off, and I know you told me to use owl post if I had to speak with you, but I just don't think this stupid owl is going to cross the Atlantic in time to tell you what happened. And Spike's run off somewhere, he's been gone for like a week. Xander says good riddance.

Xander just reminded me. I didn't tell you which spellbook. It was the Grimoire Arcanorum, the one with the Egyptian supplement. They're going to bring back Buffy.

Next time you come back to visit, could you bring me one of those little globes with the snow in them, with Big Ben in the middle? Xander said it was a bad time to ask, but I figured you should have your eye out, just in case you're in London to rescue Willow. Tara says hi.

Love, Anya

------

Shacklebolt grabbed Giles' shoulder and yanked him back from the peephole. "We have to go," he hissed. "Thirty-two minutes."

Rupert wanted to pull away. He wanted to charge into the Dark Lord's private rooms and sacrifice his life to shatter the last Urn of Osiris – anything to keep Willow from destroying his daughter, his Slayer, with the terrible spell. She could be readying the last ingredients even as they wasted time rescuing a tainted man from his doom.

But then he remembered his duty. This was his penance for the terrible things he'd done in his youthful ignorance and stupidity. He followed Kingsley down the stairs.

"What did that mean?" Kingsley murmured, when they were far enough away that the sound wouldn't register in the Dark Lord's chambers.

"She's trying to resurrect my daughter," he said simply.

The Auror narrowed his Death Eater-shaped eyes. "Isn't your daughter at Hogwarts? And why would You Know Who want to -"

"My other daughter," Rupert said. "My Slayer."

Shaklebolt's eyes widened. "A Slayer? That girl is going to resurrect a Slayer for You Know Who? Would... would a zombie have that sort of strength? Slayers are magically enhanced, right?"

"Yes, yes, I don't know, and yes. Kingsley, we have a job. I'll come back afterward..." Rupert heard a clink somewhere in front of them, and held up a hand to silence his Auror partner.

Simultaneously, they pulled out their wands and crept forward. Rupert hit the corner first, but Kingsley was the one to peek around the corner. He caught Rupert's attention, and held up a finger, then mimed casting a spell. Without waiting for the rest of Kingsley's instructions, Rupert ducked around the corner and hissed, "Petrificus totalis." The guard, a thick-set man Rupert didn't know, slumped to the ground.

"I was going to be the point man," Shaklebolt muttered, dashing over to grab the ring of keys from the guard's belt.

"Yes, well, my daughter's peace is in danger," Rupert countered. "You were acting too slowly. Where's the cell?"

Kingsley tossed the keys to Rupert. "I think that's it." He gestured to a door, then leaned down to hook his hands under the frozen man's armpits.

Rupert unlocked the door and let it swing inward. It was a dungeon cell, transfigured from a cellar room – he should know, as he'd been there to see the Dark Lord's work. "Severus?"

There, curled in the corner and cringing away from the light, was the once-proud Potions Master of Hogwarts. He could smell the poor man from across the room. "Move the guard in here," Rupert ordered, hurrying to check Snape for injuries. Luckily, there seemed to be only exhaustion. "Severus, can you move?"

"I didn't do it," Snape hissed, his voice raw. "I didn't trade information. Tell the Dark Lord. Tell him I didn't."

Rupert sighed – there was the other, rather large hole in the plan. They looked like Death Eaters. As there wasn't time to explain, Rupert simply plucked a hair from Severus' head and dropped it into the vial he pulled from his pocket. "Here, Kingsley, have the guard drink this." As Kingsley handled the guard, Rupert forced another vial down Snape's throat. "You won't believe us, but we're here to help. At the next Order meeting, we're talking about a recognition word, Severus."

After only a moment, the polyjuice took effect. Severus appeared to be the third Death Eater from Iscariot's squad, while the guard appeared to be Severus. Rupert let Kingsley help the spy to his feet, then made sure to close the door and lock it once they were out. There were other keys on the ring, other prisoners of the Dark Lord who should be saved – but there wasn't the time for it. He hung the keys on a peg on the wall, as though the guard had gotten lazy and left them there. "Twenty-six minutes," he muttered, checking his watch.

Severus, in his new Death Eater guise, pulled away from Kingsley. "If you take me to my doom, I will walk. If you are truthful, my walking will make the subterfuge easier. And... thank you."

"Don't thank us yet," Kinglsey murmured. He took point, up the stairs. As they passed into the atrium, the Dark Lord's voice could be heard, echoing through the hall. Rupert wanted to stay, to hear if the talk was about his Slayer, but Kingsley shook his head.

His duty wasn't done. They Apparated out.

------

It took until they'd reached the safety of the Hogwarts grounds for the Polyjuice to melt away from the Auror and Rupert. Snape, still looking like Forrest Flint, recognized Kingsley immediately. "I thought it was another of their games. They made me think that – that Minerva sneaked in as a cat, under the cover of dark... and that Potter showed up to defeat the Dark Lord... but every time, just as I tried to Apparate, it turned out that I was still in my cell and it was all in my mind."

"You're out. We promise." Rupert pulled Severus' arm across his shoulders, helping the injured man to stay upright.

Severus peered at him more closely. "I know you... you're not an Auror, though. I haven't seen you in..."

"I am like yourself," Rupert whispered. "One who returned to the Light. I, however, was not so fortunate as to find a way to stay in the magical world while the Dark Lord slept."

His eyes narrowed. "Ripper. If you're around, then Ethan must be -"

"Must be elsewhere," Rupert snapped. "I go by Giles, now. I have high stakes in choosing the correct side, now. I have to protect my children."

Severus met his eyes, and suddenly a torrent of images swept across Rupert's mind. Severus Snape, legilimens extraordinare, was reading him. "Daughters," he said reverently. "You have two daughters."

Rupert tore his gaze away, and Snape took the hint – he stopped reading. Rupert would've have been angry for the violation, but for the simple fact that he needed Severus' trust. Mind reading was the simplest way. "We need to get to Dumbledore. There are other things he has to know, yes?"

"The Dark Lord has a new tool," Severus whispered. "I've seen her. A redhead, from America." He frowned darkly. "She was in your mind, too. She is dangerous..."

Giles sighed. "She grew up on a Hellmouth. She started trying to learn magic... I tried to steer her toward other pursuits, but to no avail. And now..."

"She's trying to create a weapon. She's resurrecting a warrior, who will be under the Dark Lord's control. She's resurrecting..." He stopped and peered closely at Rupert. "She's bringing back your daughter. Oh, Ripper, I'm sorry -"

"Stop," Rupert growled. "They're doing it tonight. I don't have time for sorries, I have to go back and stop Willow before she creates a monster from the pieces of my child. I have to get you to Dumbledore, and then I have to -"

"I know what he's doing, and how she's doing it," Severus said suddenly. "He's going to use your daughter to bring the agents of evil to his side. Demons, vampires... they'll stay in line, because of your daughter. She has power over them. And the spell, it uses the blood of an innocent. If this witch, this Willow, manages to even begin the spell, it may be too late to bring her back to us."

Rupert winced. "Then I'll kill her."

"Can you?" Snape asked. He drew himself up, despite his weakened body, and grabbed Rupert's shoulders. "I've seen in your mind. Can you kill one whom you see as your own kin?"

"I'll have to," Rupert whispered. "There's no other choice."

Snape peered at him closely, then nodded. "We're stopping here, Kingsley. I have to tell Ripper what he needs to do."

------

Dawn set down the letter. "Oh, God. Willow."

"I don't understand. What's going on?" Harry took the letter off of her lap and read over it. "Urn?"

"The Urn of Osiris. It's a component of a spell... a resurrection spell." Dawn curled onto her side and Harry stroked her hair. She had a terrible vision of the night she tried to resurrect her mother, and made a zombie instead – except this time, the zombie would have her sister's face. "The Orb... that has the power to bring back a soul. Willow's done it before."

Harry nodded silently and read over the note again. "I know where Voldemort is," he finally said.

That was enough to bring Dawn back into a sitting position. She grabbed Harry's flannel shirt, forcing him to meet her eyes. "How? How do you know that?" she demanded.

"I – I had a vision last night, and he was looking at a map with the red-headed woman and Bellatrix Lestrange. They're planning something, for the future, something big... but I know where they are, now." Harry tried to shrink back, but Dawn held him firmly in place. "I should've told Dumbledore, I know, but I'm not supposed to be able to see anymore -"

Dawn shook her head frantically, cutting him off. "You know for a reason, don't you see that? You had that vision so we can rescue Willow before she makes my sister a zombie!"

"No – no, we can't go, not without help!" All the blood rushed from Harry's face, leaving him pale and frightened. "The last time – the last time I went off without telling someone, Sirius died. I tried to rescue him, but it was a trap..."

"Harry... it's just us. We can slip in and get her out before sunrise!" Dawn let go of her fistfuls of fabric and settled her cheek against his shoulder instead. "We have to, Harry... I can't just abandon Willow."

Harry winced. "What if she doesn't want to come with us? What if... In my vision, Dawn, she and Voldemort seemed to be getting along pretty well. Very well. What if she turns us over instead?"

"What if it were somebody you knew?" Dawn asked. "What if it were one of Ron's brothers? One of those funny ones you're always talking about? She's been brainwashed, and I can't leave her there!"

"I just..." Harry trailed off, glancing away from her. His face was a portrait of conflicted emotions, twisted in pain. Dawn tried to ignore it. "Fine," he said quietly. "You're right. If it were Fred or George, I wouldn't stop to think about it. We'll go... but we're taking the right tools, and we're leaving a note."

Dawn smiled sadly and hugged Harry. "Thank you," she whispered. She didn't notice the uneasiness locked on his face.

------

"Make sure Severus gets to the Infirmary. Get plenty of backup before you come after me," Rupert said. He was adjusting his Death Eater cloak and readying himself for a return visit.

Snape, finally wearing his own face again, looked about ready to pass out. Kingsley shook his head and placed a hand on Rupert's shoulder, restraining him. "Wait for me, Giles. I know this is about your daughter, but going in alone is suicidal..."

"...And so is waiting. Every second I put this off... I don't know what this will do to her. Willow's powerful, incredibly so... but bringing back the dead? Buffy could be a zombie, her soul intact but unable to control the movements of her body... or she could come back in one piece, but be placed under the Dark Lord's control by Imperius... she could come back without her memory and fight willingingly on his side, and I don't think I'd be able to kill my Slayer. My duty is to protect her, to nurture her..." Rupert trailed off, looking away. There was no way that Kingsley, childless, single, and not a Watcher, could truly understand.

He looked about ready to protest, but Severus summoned enough energy to tug the Auror's sleeve. "Let him go," he hissed. "This is his family."

Kingsley was distracted, just long enough for Rupert to pull back and make a run for the Hogwarts entrance. Giles heard Kingsley shout the beginning of the Impediment Curse, but it was cut off by a scuffle. He didn't wait to see what had happened. As soon as he reached the edge of the grounds, he Apparated away.

------

Somehow, the plan sounded better in the warmth and coziness of the Gryffindor Common Room than on a cold moor near Hadrian's Wall. The manor rose up above them on a damp field of brambles and heather. Just inside the gate, hidden from the main view by low shrubbery, the Invisibility Cloak-clad pair of Harry Potter and Dawn Giles dismounted from the former's broom.

"We leave it in the shrub nearest the door," he hissed.

Dawn nodded and held the cloak steady. They crept along the very edge of the walkway, careful to step aside when various figures in black robes passed them by. Harry held the broom hooked under one arm. Both students had their wands firmly in hand.

The manor, Harry guessed, was probably owned by the Malfoys. Immaculately pruned hedges often formed giant "M"s, and he was exceptionally careful to keep from stepping into unidentifiable foliage. For a long moment, he wished that Neville was there to help – when it came to strange, dangerous plants, no one had more knowledge. Somehow, Harry doubted the Malfoys would make gardening choices simply for beauty.

They must've avoided the dangerous flora somehow, as a looming double door stood before them. Harry tucked his broom behind a long topiary planter. This was the next obstacle, then – how to get in?

"Someone will have to come by," Dawn whispered. "We can get in with -"

Harry slapped a hand over her mouth as he heard the first creak. Somehow, the plan actually seemed to be working. They edged back in unison to make room for whomever was coming out – however, though both doors swung inward, only two men stood there.

The first was Lucius Malfoy, unmasked. He looked much the same as the last time Harry had seen him in the halls of the Ministry of Magic, except for a scraggly scar running down the length of his cheek. He turned out to the gardens, and Harry felt a chill up his spine: somehow his eyes burned in madness. "I know it," Malfoy said.

"I see nothing," the other man said. Harry's stomach, already churning in fear and nervousness, dropped right to his feet as he got a closer look. He was young looking, with dark hair and clear green eyes. Harry could've been looking into a magic mirror and seeing himself at thirty – fourteen years older, and as many years Darker. He'd seen the face from within. Tom Riddle surveyed the grounds. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it, Lucius. I'll send out a party."

"Let me lead it, my Lord. These are my grounds, I know their dangers best." Lucius bowed deeply.

Harry had seen enough. He slipped his arm around Dawn's shoulders and pulled her, as silently as possible, past the pair just inside the house. As they passed Voldemort, he could've sworn the man's icy green eyes settled for just a brief moment on their hidden forms. And then, it was over. They were past the first hurdle, and inside.

The layout of the manor was cemented in Harry's memories of the visions. He took Dawn's hand and led her straight into Voldemort's throne room, a large plush chamber that might once have held the Malfoy library, and stopped beside a doorway leading off from it. The throne room was empty, and soft noises were coming from the adjacent room. Finally, Harry felt safe enough to make a noise. "Malfoy and Voldemort," he whispered.

"I'd know Malfoy anywhere," Dawn replied, equally quiet. "Let's get Willow."

"No. We have to find out what's going on," he said, as firmly as he could muster.

Dawn looked ready to protest, but fell silent as footsteps rung in the foyer. Voldemort entered the chamber, then, and crossed to the very room Dawn and Harry were waiting outside. Harry threw his arms around Dawn to move her aside – they barely made it out of the Dark Lord's way as he swept past. Once again, Harry had the eerie sensation of being seen... but that was impossible. The cloak was firmly in place.

The door creaked partially shut. Harry knelt down, and Dawn balanced against his back – in that position, they could both duck around the corner see into the room. Voldemort was in the process of hanging up his black outer robe – underneath was a plain, if a bit old-fashioned, well-tailored suit. "Willow, luv, Lucius tells me we have a visitor."

Dawn tensed as the red-headed woman from Harry's vision came into view – or, he assumed it was the same woman. Their faces were the same, but beyond that, she bore little resemblance to the crumpled, weeping figure whose torture he – no, Voldemort, he'd been in Voldemort's mind – had stopped. Instead, her hair was streaked with black, as though a dye job had gone horribly wrong. She was clothed in a fine, high necked robe that reminded Harry of a Dickens adaptation he'd caught on BBC2 by peeking over Aunt Petunia's shoulder. She looked strangely comfortable as she passed by Voldemort, gave him a fond pat on the arm, and took a seat on a plush chaise lounge, smiling all the way. "I'm sure Lucius will take care of it. Doesn't he always?"

"Indeed." Voldemort sat across from her, in an equally plush chair. "He's a brute, now. He was much more elegant in his form, before Azkaban. What a pity for us all, to have lost such a fine mind to that end."

"Oh? Is he to be the flesh, then?" Willow reached over and pulled a thick book from a stack that sat on a table nearby. She flipped through it eagerly. "Willingly given, it says."

Voldemort shrugged. His smile was chilling, but Willow returned it with a beam of delight. "Although Lucius would likely give to me whatever I asked of him, including his firstborn son, he's lost enough in my service already. No... I have a servant who would willingly give a chunk of flesh to remain in my good graces. The last time I did this, I was gifted with a hand. Perhaps... I should ask Severus for his nose. Or maybe his foot – he's hideous enough that one might not notice the absence of a part of his face..."

She leaned forward over the book. He reached out and stroked her hair – Dawn shivered, and Harry took her hand in the only comfort he could give. He couldn't imagine the agony the sight must bring her. "Now, that's not nice, Tom. He's not the most handsome of men, yes... Though maybe we need someone more handsome to make sure Buffy's body is brought back in the same form as it left? She was lovely, you know – thin and blonde, very petite..."

"Never as lovely as you, my dear," Voldemort smiled. Willow blushed. Harry held back a gag of revulsion. "But, that's not the way the spell works. It's the willingness to give the flesh, I believe. None would be more willing than Severus, as he'd lose his toes to save his own life."

"I'm still worried about the bone of the father," Willow sighed. "I can't be sure it's Hank Summers', even with the license found in his pocket. Buffy's father is nothing if not sneaky... he managed to slip out of every promise he made to her. And to Dawn."

Harry stiffened and pulled his fingers from Dawn's grasp. If it wasn't for their need for total silence, he'd turn and demand to know the truth. She lied to him? Mr. Giles wasn't her father?

For one terrible second, a single thought hung in his mind: what other secrets could she be keeping?

And then, Willow was talking again. "Then all we need is the blood of a foe... and for the resurrection, the blood of an innocent." Harry snapped back to his focus, trying to ignore the frantic tapping on his shoulder.

"Oh, I've taken care of the blood," Voldemort said. "I've found her most dangerous foe, the one who could tear her apart from within, according to your stories... and I've found perfectly innocent blood."

Dawn was tapping again. Harry looked up into her frightened face – her eyes were fixed at a point behind his back. He shifted, only to find the one person he hated as much as Voldemort standing with her wand trained on the both of them.

Bellatrix Lestrange.