Heading back to my room, I notice that my body has begun to feel at ease in this house, as if it's accustomed to the darkness, the evil. There's no more prickling sensations at the base of my neck, no more sudden chills that run through me, no more goosebumps.

It worries me...like when I first discovered of the primeval wicked that my being stems from. I'm growing into the darkness that thrives here, but I'm a Champion for the Light, aren't I? The Slayer, born to kill, born to die, born to save the world. Buffy Summers, born to kill, born to die, born to save the world. I've seen the headstone that the gang put up after my death, and it still scares me that I was six feet under. I vividly remember the scrambling, the screaming, the silence that strangled me, the dirt that stung my eyes and my throat...

"Buffy? Are you alright?"

I whirl around a bit too quickly, and my foot slips onto the step below. Sirius is standing next to me, and his hand darts out to grab my arm as my foot slides. I realise that I've stopped in the middle of the staircase.

"Yeah," I reply, shaking my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts, "yeah, I'm fine."

He regards me with deep, searching eyes, as if he knows I'm lying. Maybe I'm a pathological liar...wouldn't that add a bit more colour to my Slayer résumé. The words just tumble out and it piles up, lie after lie. I'm such a deceitful person, lying to my friends, my family. I'm worthless, I should have stayed in that coffin and suffocated to death...what am I saying?

"Buffy," Sirius says, "Buffy!"

"Wha-?" I reply, blinking. His hands have come up to grasp my shoulders, and he's shaking me slightly.

"What happened?"

I don't know what happened. It's like something deep inside's awoken...maybe my conscience, after all these years. God, what's wrong with me?

It's wrong.

I'm wrong.

Tell me that I'm wrong...please...

"Buffy, maybe you shouldn't go out with the Guard tonight," Sirius starts to say, frowning deeply.

"No!" I snap, "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm just..."

"Just what?" he asks, releasing his hands from my shoulders.

Cool air hits them and small goosebumps rise. I hold in the need to shiver.

"Nothing," I mumble, turning to head back up the stairs, "nothing, I'm fine."

"Don't do this to yourself, Buffy," Sirius calls after me, "We can see you're hurting. Let us help."

A deep burning flares up in me unbidden, and I can feel the rage boil under my skin. Trembling slightly, I spin quickly, holding his eyes with my blazing ones.

"There is nothing wrong with me, you don't even know me! Just stay out of my life," I hiss, turning and running up the rest of the stairs and across the landing until I reach my room.

To my great relief, Sirius does not follow, and I lean heavily on the wooden door. Darkness seeps in around me from the corridor, and I shut my eyes. Flashes of images from being in the L.A.'s institution burn brightly in front of me. Sterile white gown, strapped to the bed, mum, dad, it's not real...

What's happening? What's wrong with me?

Why can't I stop?

Please don't...

Please don't forgive me...

"GET OUT! GET OUT!" I moan, clenching my hair in fists.

It's in me, I know it.

"I defeated you! Leave me the Hell alone! I DEFEATED YOU!"

Quiet. I gasp for breath, God just leave me alone. Just leave me alone...

I swear I hear a whisper of Never... It chills me to the bone, and I'm shaking strongly as I slide to the ground, tears of frustration leaking out.

--------------------------------------------------

"Ready, Buffy?" Tonks asks brightly as she peeks round the door I left slightly ajar.

"Yup," I say, grabbing one dagger and sliding it into my waistband. Looking up, her violet hair is the first thing that catches my eye, and I give her a small grin while pulling my own blonde locks into a messy ponytail.

"You'll be sharing a broom with me," she tells me with a cheeky smile as we head out the door, "the others don't want another passenger with them."

"Geez, way to make me feel wanted," I say with a roll of my eyes.

Tonks giggles and we walk down to the main hallway. The rest of the Guard is already there, standing impatiently with broomsticks in their hands. I do a double take. When Tonks said I was sharing a broom with her, I thought it was just some wizard-babble for some other transport. I didn't realise she meant it literally.

"Woah," I mumble, as we come to stand with the rest of the group.

They're like how I always imagined them in fairytales, except much cleaner – polished brown wood that reflects the feeble light from the gas lamps on the walls and thick and shapely straw that forms the sweeper, wrapped with twine. As Tonks picks hers up, I spot a gold carving in the wood as the yellow light just glints off it: Comet Two Sixty.

Remus gives a small chuckle before we head out the door, me in the middle behind Tonks. Everyone seems to move very quietly, and then I remember the screaming portrait in the hallway.

Once we step out into the haphazard lawn, dried grass crunching beneath our feet, I see the creepy guy with the spinning eye take out a silver cigarette lighter and point it to the faint streetlights. I stare as with a pop, one in the distance extinguishes.

"That's Mad-Eye Moody," Tonks says quietly to me, as if reading my mind, "and that's a Put-Outer. Says he borrowed it from Dumbledore. I still reckon he stole it."

I nod, still mildly transfixed at the cool un-lighter he's using to put out the streetlamps. They go out in quick succession, but he stops at the one just five metres away. Only a very dim glow comes from it, but the bright light from the moon still allows me to see everyone's faces. It's a clear night.

Then I notice a wizard standing off to one side, not holding a broom. I look closer, and realise that it's Sirius, but he has a dark cloak covering his entire face and body. Remus is murmuring quietly to Mad-Eye Moody, so I sneak over.

"I'm sorry about earlier," I whisper.

He merely shrugs, and doesn't answer. An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Did I hurt him that much?

"Why aren't you coming with us?" I ask, brushing back a few strands of hair that I left to dangle.

Speaking in a deep undertone that sends shivers up my spine, he replies, "This is as close as Dumbledore will let me leave the house. I'm sending off your signals once you get to Harry's place."

Confusion flares up in me. Why can't he leave the house? And why is he speaking so quietly? I'm about to ask him, when Remus calls us over. I cast one quick glance to Sirius before walking back to Tonks. Everyone's standing in a circle, and I look on in curiousity at what Moody's doing now.

He's holding his wand above Remus, and suddenly raps it on his head. Immediately, Remus starts to turn invisible. Wait, not invisible, because I can still see the shape of his body. He's just transparent.

Uber-cool.

"It's a Disillusionment charm," Tonks explains, "It makes you a sort of human chameleon, so that the Muggles can't see us."

"Knowing my luck with magic mojo," I mutter, "It'll probably turn me into a lizard. And what's a Moogle, anyway?"

Tonks gives me an odd look, but Moody is soon standing in front of me. I wait for his charm, and stare right back at him, who looks a bit surprised at my defiance. What's the biggie about a spinning eye? He does look weird anyway, but I've seen worse. Like Giles wearing a sombrero. Oh, the horror.

He lifts the wand above my head and taps it lightly. A disgusting feeling of egg being cracked on my head distracts me. It's horrible, and I look up, but realise that I can't see the usual strands of hair. I look down, and only see the usual ground.

This is like Alex Mack! Only without the radioactive puddle of goo part.

When Remus says, "Mount your brooms", I follow Tonks and climb on the back. I'm surprised that it's not that uncomfortable. I only have to adjust slightly, and as I grip the broom in the space between Tonks and I, the others start to hover slightly.

"Ready?" Tonks asks with an excited grin.

"Always," I reply. I wonder at the seriousness of my tone – a few years ago, I would have been squealing at the thought of riding a broom. Now, it doesn't seem so extraordinary. Cool, yes, but not as remarkable as I think it should be.

The ground's left my feet, and Tonks makes sure that we're in the middle of the group. She's going a bit slowly, for my benefit, I think.

"I think that beetle down there's beating us," I yell with a laugh through the strong winds.

She glares at me and immediately presses her body forward, sending us zooming ahead. It's an exhilarating feeling...if only we had brooms in Sunnydale. It would've made patrolling much more fun. Not to mention staking...I can imagine impaling a vamp on a pointy end of a broom...

Remus is at the head of the group, and he's yelling something, but he's too far in front for me to hear. I ask Tonks what he said, but she just shrugs. Looking down, I can see sparkling lights off to the side, and the dark shadows of houses and roofs. I also notice that Remus is preventing us from flying directly over the towns. Probably so those Moogles can't see us. I wonder if they're some sort of demon. The cabbie that dropped me off at Grimmauld Place mentioned them too. Or maybe they're mutant wizards.

Occasionally, we fly through a tiny puff of cloud, and the temperature drops, giving me the chills. Soon, Tonks yells that we're nearing Harry's place. My hands and ears are starting to freeze, and I curse for not wearing something warmer than a T-shirt. There are more clouds now, and I can tell that the group is trying to avoid them. Suddenly, Tonks dips the broom, and we're following the group in descending.

It isn't until now that I realise that some of the other wizards and witches have been swapping positions, like bodyguards. I give a quick glance back, to see if we're being followed. But there's nothing there. Talk about paranoid.

Now I can see detailed rooftops, and streetlamps lighting the street. Tonks is slowing down, and eventually, my ears pop as we sink down onto a soft lawn in front of a row of English houses.

Dismounting the broom, I look around and it's creepy how every house is identical. I mean, they've even got it down to the same number of cars in each driveway.

"Stay quiet," Remus whispers to us, "we have to break in and take Harry. Keep your wands out in case just in case. Those Dursleys shouldn't be home yet if Tonks' plan worked."

Tonks gives a little grumble of indignation, but follows Remus' orders. Not that I have a wand, but Remus' look tells me that the same rule applies to my fists.

The group creeps around to the side, but stops in front of a side door. Moody and Remus are up the front, whispering furiously, over how to enter I bet. I'm cold, and I want into the house, so I march up between the two, shove them lightly aside and punch my hand through the window.

The stained glass immediately shatters, but I withdraw my hand just as quickly as I pushed it in, and only come up with a couple of scratches. Turning around, I smirk as Moody looks at me approvingly, but Remus glares. I turn back and stick my hand in, fumbling for the doorknob. With a click, it opens, and I step in, trying not to crunch on too much glass.

Even with the rest of them following through into what looks like the kitchen, I distinctly hear the sound of a door being open upstairs.

"Someone's awake up there," I say to Remus. No point in being quiet now – we would waken the whole house with the glass shattering.

He's still a bit peeved, but nods, "Hopefully Harry, and no one else."

Remus pushes past me and into a hallway. I wait till the others follow before hurrying over to the sink and turning the tap on lightly, running my slightly wounded hand under it. The cold water is incredibly relieving.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," I can hear Moody growl.

An uncertain young voice replies, and I presume it's Harry Potter. Walking out, I'm mindful of Dumbledore's parting words...

"You may feel a strong connection with Harry, Miss Summers," he warned me, "He has been in close contact with Voldemort before. Your link with The First may awake evil ties between the two of you, as both Voldemort and The First's hosts. Be wary."

The group is crowded in the hallway, still in the dark. Then suddenly a flash of light appears, lighting the room with surprisingly bright light.

Even from the back, I can see him because he's still on the stairs – tall, deep black hair, crooked glasses, and an unusual lightning bolt scar, visible even from this distance. He looks muddled and surprised; I can't blame him. I'd probably be mighty pissed if I was woken, especially with my intention to die young and stay pretty.

I keep silent in my spot, watching amusedly as the others bicker. Suddenly he looks up, and catches my eye. He gasps, and everything goes quiet.

"You're the girl in my dream!" he exclaims.

I blink and moments of silence pass where everyone's heads are turning back and forth between us. It's only now that I can see his startling green eyes.

I slowly raise an eyebrow, "Didn't see that one coming."