I'm getting uber-vibes from Snape. It's like the guy had a childhood trauma that resulted from a girl kicking his ass. Actually, that would explain a lot of things. He's sitting across the table from me, and glaring as I'm trying to listen and pay attention to what Dumbledore has to say. For once. I swear if he keeps up those glowers, he'll end up looking like he got bashed in. And let me just say that I wouldn't mind adding to that look.
"...be extreme danger in this case, as we are lacking in vital information at this point," Dumbledore says seriously.
I have been tuning out since the meeting started. Blah blity blah...slay some evil wizards who have nothing better to do than light up Hornet fireworks...blah blah blity blah...try not to get in Glare-Face's way...
I've been thinking about those creepy messages that somehow filtered through yesterday. Constant reminders of Sunnydale, but in a way, feel different. I'd figured out the twisted cryptic message of 'Death is my Gift' that the Powers sent me at home, but I can't help but feel that these messages flying through my mind apply to something that I'm meant to be helping with here...
Ahh, all this thinking is making my brain hurt. Time to get down to some real Slayage-business.
"Okay, so what's the plan?" I interrupt.
The others in my Slay-Squad look at me oddly. Except for Snape of course, he's still glaring.
I sigh in exasperation. Haven't these people heard of team spirit? It doesn't take a bimbo cheerleader to figure it out.
"Y'know? Plan? Like a solution to kill the bad guy?" I ask.
"Well, usually, we just go in and start hexing the daylights out of them," Tonks offers with a weak smile.
I finally remembered my first note-to-self earlier today. Looks can seriously be deceiving; there's a lot under that bubblegum hair of hers. It seems like the whole wizarding world is made up of people who have duo personalities. Once again, the only exception is Mr. Glare. His intentions are perfectly clear.
"Before I continue and explain why we need a plan," I start, before reverting my eyes back to Snape, "Would you just QUIT your evil glowering and whining?! Make with the sunshine and roses, pronto! Your evilness is going to give me hives!"
The guy looks at me like I had grown horns. Instinctively, I have a desperate urge to touch my hair, but force it down. Glancing at Dumbledore, I see that his lips are pursed and I could swear that his shoulders are trembling slightly from laughter.
The others look slightly baffled at my words. I ignore them and continue.
"As I was saying, we need a plan. I've had many experiences with simply charging into baddies without a plan. Simply put, it doesn't work. Sure, you might get lucky a couple of times, but from what Dumbledore has been saying, these guys mean business," I explain, looking from face to face.
Silvica looks like an old geezer that I would have usually ignored on the streets of Sunnydale as I patrolled. But as Tonks informed me earlier, he's one of Dumbledore's most trusted Aurors. One that shouldn't be crossed with lightly. I had a closer look before the meeting started, and now realise that his ragged look was one from being battle-worn, not so much as age.
Tonks still has her bright pink hair, but she explained that she could change its colour any time. You're like a Change-My-Hair Barbie, I said. She just peered at me oddly. It's slightly annoying that these people have no clue about any cultural references that I make, but I think it's curious at the same time. It gives me ample opportunity to tease and insult when they have no clue as to what I'm talking about.
And Snape? Well, what can we say about the Glare-Meister...
"Yes, quite," Dumbledore agreed with a suspiciously bright twinkle in his eye, "I do suggest that you organise something before charging into a foray of Dark Wizards. As I have said, Lucius Malfoy may be among this group, so tread with great care once you get to Alma Forest."
With that, Dumbledore walks over to the door, about to leave our group to do Auror-type work. Before he touches the door, however, he turns around and shoots a dignified grin to us, "I expect all of you to return tonight, so please try to refrain from killing each other." He says this last part, obviously directed at Snape and I.
"Who, us? Nah..." I reply innocently, but with a cheeky smirk.
The wizard chuckles before leaving. Once the door clicks shut, I turn back to the rest of them.
"Well, I was never The Brain of the group, just Pinky on steroids," I say, resisting the urge to return Snape's death stare when he snorted, "so, any of you got a formation plan?"
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Forty-five minutes later, I'm back in my room, slipping into my favourite leather pants. Just for the occasion, my first battle in this wizarding world. Hearing knocks on the door, I frown, quickly throwing on a black T-shirt and navy jacket as well. Dumbledore had warned as to dress with the intent of camouflage. Three wizards and a Slayer against a group of about 15 or more Dark wizards – we need the element of surprise.
I open the door, surprised to find Hermione standing there.
"Hi Buffy," she chirps, before narrowing her eyes slightly at my dark attire, "Are you going out?"
I had learnt of the Order's secrecy with the kids in the house. I can't blame them, but if they are anything like Dawn, I know they'll scope it out eventually. But for now I'll just have to keep my mouth shut.
"Uh, no," I reply, feeling slightly guilty for lying through my teeth, "Why?"
"Well, we were thinking of showing you the house now," she replies. I can tell that the gadgets in her mind are whirring away – she got a similar pensive look that I have often seen on Willow when she was feeling suspicious.
"It's a bit late, isn't it?" I ask, smirking as I look out my window, seeing the sun starting to set, "Why didn't you get me earlier?"
"Well, uh," she stutters, "Um, Ginny, and uh, Ron and I were, um..."
"Were what?" I ask, still smirking.
"Cleaning!" Hermione exclaims, her cheeks blushing furiously, "Um, we were cleaning!"
I give her a skeptical look, showing that I know she's lying.
"I'm assuming that you weren't cleaning near the Order's room, now were you?"
Hermione doesn't answer, and if possible, her face seems to flame up even more and I can't help but giggle. She shoots me a glare, but I pointedly ignore her annoyed look.
"Well, why don't you guys give me the tour tomorrow? I don't think I'm gutsy enough to tour this spooky house at night yet," I answer with a wink.
She seems satisfied with the answer and leaves as I breathe an inward sigh of relief.
Now, for the mission. If I can get through this night with Snape, that alone will be a remarkable effort.
I hurry over to my bed, bending over and yanking out my suitcase. Flipping it open, I grab a couple of stakes, hiding one in the waist of my pants, and the other inside my jacket. I also grab one of my twin daggers, snapping it onto a leg guard before retrieving my broadsword and giving it an experimental swing.
It still scares me to know how willingly I'm going to be killing humans, even if they are evil or not. But according to Dumbledore, they can't get rid of these Death Eater guys without killing them; apparently their Ministry won't be too fond of a gang of evil guys sitting on their doorstep, captured or not.
Reminds me so much of the Watcher's Council. Bunch of no-good dropkicks who are too cowardly to...
Okay, calm down. Save your anger for later. Take it out on the Death Eaters.
I swiftly swap my runners for my trusty boots, and slip out of my room quietly, jogging lightly down the dark corridor, lit by flames that cast long, eerie shadows on the walls. Running down the steps, I'm careful not to let my heels clack too loudly on the tiles below. I walk briskly down the hallway to the Order's room where I find my team waiting for me.
I notice that Tonks' has changed her hair colour to a navy blue. While whipping my hair into a messy bun, I ask, "Remember the plan?"
The three of them give me brisk nods as a reply and I grin in anticipation, "Let's go kick some Death ass."
My Slay-team merely raises their eyebrows. I snort. This is going well.
"So? Chop-chop! Get with the program? How do we get to this Lama Forest?"
Snape gives me a withering look, "It's Alma Forest, Summers, and we're getting there by Portkey."
I do have enough sense not to keep going with the 20 Questions. I'd rather not hurt the guy before the fight's even started, as pleasing as it sounds. Mr. Glare motions to a thin plastic rose on the long wooden table. The other two seem to know what they're doing, so I just follow them. They reach out and touch it...
I was never a fan of motion sickness, and still am not. It's hard to keep a strong hold on my sword with the tugging in my stomach. It doesn't help quell the urge to barf either. Then there's the dizziness in my head from all the swirling...
Suddenly there's ground on my feet and I quickly grab myself to keep from stumbling. It's dark, and my Slayer-vibes immediately start to tingle when I notice that we've arrived at the outer edges of the forest.
"Stay in form," I hear Silvica whisper, "take down as many as possible while hidden. Avoid direct confrontation unless absolutely necessary."
The usual rules, no biggie. I'm a bit put-off at not being given the chance to do my trademark quip-and-slay, what with needing to be sneaky and all. I notice that the three of them have already begun to move towards the forest, so I cover the back as planned.
If it wasn't for my Slayer-sight, I'd probably trip fairly soon. I can barely make out Silvica and Tonks to the sides in front, let alone Snape way ahead. I hone my senses, and as we tread silently through the dense foliage, the hairs on my neck prickle more strongly with each step I take.
Finally, I can hear the murmurings of a group ahead of us, and see the two Aurors in front me hesitate slightly before moving to their positions. I continue straight forward, now seeing a small fire lit, flickering off dark-robed figures in a large circle. As I inch closer, I look around for a low-hanging branch and spot one not far ahead of me. I follow the plan, and loudly crack a twig with my boot heel. Repressing the urge to snigger at about 15 robed heads flicking at once, I sprint forward, chucking my sword at the base of the tree before somersaulting onto the branch, remaining on a handstand at the top.
Upside down, I can still make out the figures dispatching from the large circle. Two or three head my way, and as they separate slightly, I swing down and land silently on the tree's large roots below. I lunge out and grab one of the robed guys by the mouth, silencing his muffled yells and quickly twist his neck, as I have seen both Angel and Spike do so many times before in Sunnydale.
It hurts to think that I'm killing humans. People. But there's no other choice. If I could, I would slam these people senseless, and throw them in jail, but not kill. But this isn't my world and I'm not playing by my rules. Unless forced to, of course.
The others hear the bone crack and whip around. I quickly grab my sword, swinging deftly as I manage to slash one's neck, narrowly dodging his partner's green-bolted curse by diving to the side. He follows me, but I dodge behind a tree and quickly sweep a lock of stray hair out of my eye before lunging out again behind him, slicing his neck.
By now, the rest of the group is frantic, and bolts of light are flying everywhere. Mostly green, but by the odd colour here and there, I can see where the rest of my team are. I try to keep a low profile still, slicing out in the darkness as I sense these hooded figures around me. Most of them probably wouldn't guess that I'm a girl. Probably not Tonks, either.
Suddenly a hand chokes me around my neck, and I struggle to breathe. My sword clatters to the ground as I try to pry his fingers away. I can tell the guy is butch, as his fingers are chubby, but strong. Gasping, I reach into my half-unzipped jacket, retrieving my stake to drive it into his gut. The guy gives a howl of pain, releasing me and I take a deep breath. Then another pair of hands is on me, tackling me to the ground.
As I fall, I manage to whip around and bring my foot up, kicking the Death Eater off me strongly into the darkness. I roll up and do a high roundhouse as the butch guy comes back, despite the wound I gave him. I manage to snap his neck in the process, and he collapses.
I yank my dagger out, sensing a sinister figure nearby. Taking deep breaths, I twirl it around in my fingers, trying to figure out where the Death Eater is. Suddenly a bolt of green flashes out and I dive, but it clips me on my right shoulder and I gasp in pain. It burns like Hell, and I can tell there's blood already streaming out of the wound. I struggle to kneel.
"Well, well, well," a silkily evil voice sounds, "look what the cat dragged in..."
He's coming closer and I clutch my dagger tightly, despite the burning in my shoulder. Goddamn, it hurts.
"And who do you think you are?" I grit out, "Miss Universe?"
Silence, and then indescribable pain shoots through my body, making me writhe. It's like a thousand hot pokers being shoved over and over, and being flogged at the same time. I refuse to scream, don't give him the satisfaction. Through the pain, I hear a loud thump, and suddenly it's gone, and I'm panting in desperation.
I open my eyes and everything's blurry. I see a figure standing before me, and I try to grab my dagger, but my hand's weak, and pain is wracking my body. Darkness begins to seep in through the corners of my eyes, and I welcome the oblivion that comes with a sigh of relief.