CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE FATHER

Harry awoke slowly, blindly reaching across to the bedside table to grab his glasses and put them on.  His eyes adjusted quickly and he looked around the infirmary, sighing in relief when he saw Buffy curled in the chair beside him, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and even.  He leant his weight on his elbow and just stared at the sleeping girl thoughtfully.

Before Buffy had fallen asleep, she'd found the ring that Harry had given her on the dressing table beside the bed.  She guessed that someone had given it to Harry, who had pocketed it, and she'd spent the better part of the evening just fiddling with the ring.  "Now everyone knows that you're mine."  She hadn't placed it back on her finger, not entirely certain that she deserved to still be called Harry's at all.  So, as she slept, she clutched tightly at the ring, the white-gold band pressing into her skin and leaving a circular indentation.

Draco had volunteered to stay with them, but Buffy had firmly told him to finish his assignments and get some sleep.  He'd told her that if she needed anything then all she needed to do was to ask for it.

Harry was trying to work out what exactly had happened the day before.  He'd never seen Buffy look so upset or so dishevelled before.  Her clothes were still covered in dried blood, but Harry instinctively knew that the blood hadn't been hers.  Which begged the question, who did it belong to?  Some of it was his, he was sure of it, but he just didn't know who else's blood was staining Buffy's clothes and hands.

Whatever had happened before he, Dumbledore and Giles had found the Slayer in the Shrieking Shack must have been bad.  He was tempted to wake his girlfriend to ask her, but he knew that she hadn't been sleeping properly in the last week.

"Hullo Harry," a voice whispered from behind him.

He flipped over in bed, half expecting it to be Hermione or Ginny or even one of the female Professors.  What he saw instead shocked him completely.  His breath caught in his throat and his heartbeat increased.

"Mum?" he whispered.

Lily Potter nodded and stepped forward, running fingers that Harry couldn't feel across the teenage boys cheek. 

"I'm glad you're alright," she said, smiling softly.  "Your father and I were so worried about you."

"You…you were watching?" Harry asked incredulously.

Lily laughed lightly and nodded.  "Of course we were watching.  You're our son."

Harry felt tears prick his eyes.  This was what he'd wanted for the last week, ever since Buffy had admitted to seeing the ghosts of his parents.  He'd wanted to see them for himself, and now that he was seeing them, he couldn't understand why Buffy had been so terrified.

"Where's dad?" Harry asked.

"Watching," Lily replied.  "I wanted to speak to you myself for a while."

Harry nodded, just grateful for even one of his parents to appear to him.  It was strange.  Ever since he'd been at Hogwarts, all anyone would ever tell him was how much like his father he was.  No one had ever said anything to Harry about his mother, except that Harry had her eyes.  But nothing more.  He found himself curious about what type of a person his mother had been.

Harry noticed that Lily's gaze shifted across the room to Buffy, who shifted uneasily in her chair, still deeply asleep.  Harry followed Lily's gaze and smiled involuntarily as he saw his girlfriend.

"I know you love her, Harry," Lily said softly, moving around the room to stand behind Buffy's chair.  Lily's hand rested against Buffy's shoulder, the Slayer's hair moving slightly with an invisible wind, making Harry momentarily forget that Lily wasn't actually touching Buffy at all. 

"I do, mum," Harry assured the ghost.  "I really do."

"I know…and that's why I hate to have to tell you this," Lily started.

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he felt his heart sink. "Tell me what?"

"You must stay away from her Harry," Lily warned.  "She's dangerous.  She's not stable.  You've seen what she's capable of."

Harry rubbed his cheek, the bruise from Buffy's punch from the previous night having almost disappeared thanks to Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfey, but Harry could still feel Buffy's fist against his skin.  His shoulder still ached from where the crossbow bolt had hit him.

"It was an accident," Harry insisted.

"This time," Lily said darkly.  "How much longer before she loses control completely?  Why do you think that witches are never chosen to be Slayers? Especially witches that are as powerful as Buffy is."

"She would never hurt anyone," Harry said.

"She tried to kill Giles…the man she considered a father.  How much longer do you think it will be before she tries to kill you?  Or Ron and Hermione?"

Harry could feel his insides tightening into knots.  His friends had always been his biggest weakness.  He'd never wanted them to be hurt or placed in danger, even though they always seemed to be placed in the thick of it because of him.

And Harry couldn't deny the fact that the crossbow bolt that had hit him had actually been aimed at Giles.  It was definitely worrying for the Boy-Who-Lived, and he couldn't quite help but let the seed of doubt grow deeper roots within his mind.

"I can't just stay away from her," Harry said.

"You must," Lily said firmly.  "The longer you remain close to her, the sooner it will be that she hurts you even more than she already has."

A single tear trickled down Harry's cheek.  He couldn't believe what his mother was telling him.  She wanted him to stay away from Buffy.  The one person he had ever loved with his entire being.  It was unthinkable, and yet, he wanted, more than anything, to trust in his mother.  The thing he'd wanted most in the world had just been given to him, and the first request had been to stay away from his girlfriend. 

"You must cut off all ties to her completely," Lily warned.  "Even the slightest piece of friendship with her will allow her to completely ruin you Harry.  And I would hate to have to watch you die."

Harry nodded, tears now falling freely.  Lily Potter disappeared suddenly, and Harry felt completely empty.  "No!"

"It's for the best Harry," another voice whispered.  Harry wiped at his tear-filled eyes and looked up, his eyes going wide.  He felt a smile come to his face, even through his anger and complete devastation at the thought of losing Buffy completely.

"Dad?"

James Potter smiled at his son and nodded.  "Your mother's right Harry.  I wish she was wrong…I know how much you love Buffy, but…we cannot sit and watch her destroy you.  I wish that it could be another way, but…it can't.  I'm sorry I don't have better news for you, son."

Buffy began to stir, and James gave Harry one last smile before completely disappearing.  Harry wiped away his tears and allowed himself to stare at Buffy with all the love he felt.  He knew that he wouldn't get another chance to be with her the way he wanted.  He slowly sat up and reached his hand over to cup her cheek softly.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open and Harry gave her a gentle half-smile.

"Hey beautiful," he whispered.

Buffy smile softly and leant forward to kiss him.  Their lips met and Harry savoured the taste and feel of her, sighing into the kiss, knowing that he wouldn't get another chance to do this ever again. 

"I'm so sorry," Buffy whispered as they finally pulled away from each other.  Her fingers came up to touch the place where the crossbow bolt had entered Harry's shoulder. 

"Buffy…we really need to talk," Harry whispered, his voice clogged with emotion as he tried to keep his tears at bay.

The Slayer knew what was coming.  She'd felt it them moment he'd kissed her.  The kiss had been a goodbye.  It had been far too similar to the kiss she'd shared with Angel just before she'd thrust a sword into his gut. It was a goodbye and nothing more.

She sighed and felt tears well in her eyes.

"You don't have to say it," she said softly.  "I already know."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

Buffy nodded and stood up, dropping one last kiss to Harry's cheek.  "So am I."

She took hold of his hand and pressed the ring that he'd given to her into his open palm, folding his fingers inwards, before taking a step back away from him.

As Buffy walked out of the room, Harry collapsed in tears, sobs wracking his body as he struggled to breath.

"You did the right thing," James whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry heard the words, but they did little to comfort him.  He stared at the ring that he had given to buffy only eight days ago.  It felt like a lifetime had passed between then and now.  Harry reached up to his neck and unclasped the silver chain that held a heavy Celtic cross upon it.  It had been Buffy's gift to him for their anniversary.  He slid the ring onto the chain and let it collide with the cross.  He quickly replaced it around his neck and let the cool silver metal rest against his chest as he tucked the chain back into his shirt.

As James disappeared into the shadows to watch Harry's weeping, he smiled and shook his head with disappointment.  He hadn't been expecting it to be that easy.

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Buffy raced away from the infirmary, ignoring the students she passed, and not hearing the worried questions that some of them yelled to her retreating form.  All Buffy wanted to do was be as far away from Harry as possible.

Actually, that wasn't the truth.  She wanted to be as close to him as she could be, but she knew that it would never happen again. 

She was a danger to him, and that wasn't something that she was willing to risk.  She raced blindly down the corridors of Hogwarts until she found herself in front of a very familiar tapestry of ballet dancing trolls.  She was just outside the Room of Requirement. 

She'd never been in there by herself before.  Usually she was either with Harry or with Faith and the two Watchers.  She paced up and down the length of the tapestry three times before a door appeared.  She breathed in deeply, not entirely certain about what to expect beyond the door.

The Room reacted to her thoughts and feelings, and seeing as she had no earthly clue as to what she was even thinking, she wanted sure what would be in the room.  She opened the door and stepped inside, her eyes going wide and she gasped in shock.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded angrily.

"Waiting for you of course," was the simple reply.

Buffy glared at him angrily.  "Don't mess with me okay," she warned.  "I am seriously not in the mood."

Dumbledore nodded, his hand on his wand that remained hidden within his cloak.

"Yes, I can see that.  What I do wonder though is what exactly happened to you," he mused.

"Happened?" Buffy repeated.  "Nothing happened to me."

"Oh, trust me Miss Summers, something has definitely happened to you.  But what, I wonder.  For you have never possessed this much darkness before," Dumbledore said.

Buffy chuckled a little, too upset to think rationally about what was being said to her.  She was tired, angry and emotionally drained from the past week, and Harry's goodbye had been more than she could handle.

"I've always possessed it," she replied.  "It's been in me since birth, remember?  Why else would you guys have wanted me to have been taught the difference between good and evil?"

"So that you wouldn't forget," he replied.  "As it seems you have done so now."

Buffy stopped, not liking the implication of the Headmaster's words.

"I haven't forgotten anything," she insisted.

"Why did you not tell Rupert or myself about the ghosts?" Dumbledore asked, quickly changing topics.  He could see that the Slayer was too worked up to continue the previous line of conversation.  Better to change it to something that needed to be discussed.

Buffy stiffened and looked around the room, checking the corners of darkness for any lurking figures.  She couldn't feel anyone else in the room besides herself and Dumbledore.  It was an odd feeling, one she hadn't had in the last week.  The tingling in her spine that had alerted her to the ghosts was no more, and she couldn't help but notice how much easier her breathing suddenly seemed.

"They aren't here," Buffy whispered.

Dumbledore nodded.  "No, they aren't."

"How?" Buffy asked. 

Dumbledore smiled slightly.  "Because I require them not to be," he explained.  "This room reacts to what I require it to do, and as I wish for us to be free from other visitors, your ghosts aren't welcome here."

She looked at him, slightly impressed by his forward thinking.  "You knew that this was the only room that they couldn't come into."

Dumbledore nodded.  "I also knew that you would most likely come to this room at some point.  I hadn't anticipated that it would be so soon."

"But why isn't the room reacting to me?" Buffy asked curiously.  She knew from experience that each user of the room could effect it, but so far, none of the things that she'd thought of had appeared before her.

"I required this room to only respond to my thoughts rather than anyone else's for the time that I would be in here, which is why you have no effect on the room whatsoever," Dumbledore explained.  "Your thoughts are too erratic, and what I sense from you worries me greatly."

Buffy's first impulse was to be completely offended by the Headmaster.  She felt the sudden urge to pummel him to a bloody pulp.  It was when she caught herself in mid-fantasy that she realised that Dumbledore was right.

Her thoughts were too erratic, and her own darkness was beginning to take over.  She'd noticed it the other evening when she'd drawn upon whatever source of power she could find within herself.  She'd opened up a dark place, and now she worried that she would never be able to close it back up.

She sighed deeply and sunk into the chair that Dumbledore had known Buffy would need.

"You're right," Buffy whispered softly.  She hated to admit it, but the Headmaster was right. 

"When was the first time you saw one of your ghosts?" Dumbledore asked.

"Last week.  I went to go patrolling, and…and I saw Harry's dad.  All week I've been seeing him," Buffy explained.

"Who else?"

"James, Lily, Tara Maclay's mom, Voldemort, Jenny Calendar, Angel and Angelus."

"Anyone else?" Dumbledore asked.

Buffy thought for a few moments before nodding.  "Me," she replied. 

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.  It made very little sense.  So far it had only been Buffy that the ghosts had been appearing to.  And, several of the ghosts shouldn't have even been able to get into Hogwarts grounds. 

"I spoke to Sir Nicholas, and…he said that ghosts couldn't get into Hogwarts unless they'd been students.  And that they had to be benevolent," Buffy said.  "And, seeing as how I keep seeing Voldemort and Angelus, well…I'd say that neither of them are exactly candidates for being Casper the Friendly Ghost."

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied.  "What else, if anything, has happened that had been unusual?"

Buffy thought back over the last week.  She didn't want to admit to the accident that had happened the evening before in the alley with Faith and the seemingly homeless man.  Buffy knew that things had been strange long before that.

She was trying to recall what else had happened besides the ghosts.  Her patrols had been extremely dull, and she'd only really fought with one demon within the Forbidden Forest the entire week.

An image of the demon she'd fought suddenly flashed in front of herself and the Headmaster.  Buffy jumped slightly, shocked by the projected image.

"I thought I couldn't effect the room," Buffy said shakily.

"You aren't," Dumbledore replied.  "I required to see an image of anything you thought would be important, and…this is what you wanted to show me."

Dumbledore circled the frozen image of the cloaked demon with crosses stitching its eyes shut.  He couldn't recognise the demon, but he couldn't help but feel that it was connected to it all.

The image faded and in it's place, Buffy saw herself staking the man in the alleyway.  Buffy jumped back in shock, and Dumbledore stared at the moving picture in wide-eyed awe.  He looked at the Slayer who had tears in her eyes and was breathing quickly.

"Did this happen?" Dumbledore asked.

Struck dumb by the sudden re-enactment, all Buffy could do was nod her head.

"Is that why you needed the bubble of silence in the infirmary?" he asked.

Again, Buffy just nodded. 

"You healed him.  And then what?"

"I took him back to the alley, and…and I erased his memory of me hurting him."

Dumbledore closed his eyes tiredly.  "Does Rupert know?"

Buffy nodded again.  "I told him last night…after what happened with Harry." Buffy's voice caught slightly as she said Harry's name.  Dumbledore picked up on the slight hitch immediately.  He knew better than to try and get her to talk about it though, and knew that they needed to begin their research.  When a book suddenly appeared in Dumbledore's hands, he could have kicked himself for being so thoughtless in his plan to go to the library.

He allowed the book of Dark Creatures to flip open, and there in front of him was a picture of the demon that Buffy's mind had projected an image of only minutes ago.  He read through the text, paling slightly.  He book-marked the page and looked up at the Slayer.

"Come…we must speak to Rupert."

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Oooo, angst.  Sorry for the lack of updates, life has been nuts lately.  Many thanks for your reviews and stuff, you guys rock!

Toodles.

DKG.