Author's Note:
This chapter and the next should probably be rated darned close to PG-15 for violence and language, and a bit of content. Just thought I'd throw up a warning before you beat me to death with a shovel. This was one long chapter divided into two and then I added back some content. There's a fair amount of Latin in here, too. Do enjoy!
- - - - -
Chapter 46
How It Began...
- - - - -
- One Hour Before -
"We have to talk."
Buffy glanced up from where she was bent over, lifting her punching bag back onto its hook, her eyes flashing as she turned to see who had interrupted her.
It was Hermione.
"We don't have to do anything," Buffy said in a hiss as she started to beat upon the bag again, her fists flying, her concentration locked on her source.
Hermione calmly walked over and stood behind the bag, steadying it, wincing as the Slayer beat the ever holy hell from it.
"Yes, we do," she said with a slight whimper as she was nearly knocked off her feet. "I know what you can do."
Buffy stopped hitting the bag and lifted a wrist to flick off a bit of sweaty blonde hair which had fallen across her face.
"I'm listening."
Hermione sat down on the mat there and Buffy joined her, looking far too serious for a girl her age.
"There are forces at work here which we may never be able to understand," Hermione began, "but I've researched a lot of them. I've been doing some N.E.W.T. level papers and I've discovered there are ways to harness the power within yourself. To make it more powerful."
"What does this have to do with me?" Buffy snapped impatiently, looking longingly at the shiny weapons dangling from the ceiling behind Hermione.
"It has everything to do with you," Hermione said, looking Buffy in the eye. "This is the part where you have to make a choice. The Slayer is awakening and the only thing you thought you could do was to just live with it. What if you became it? What if you became the essence of the Slayer? How dark would that be?"
"It'd be darkness no living person on Earth would be able to face," Buffy said, looking down, her face hidden in shadows. "I can't imagine what it'd be like, trying to balance that sort of power. It'd be... overwhelming..."
"What if it wasn't?" Hermione asked carefully. "Could you control it?"
"I've controlled a great many things in my time, Hermione," Buffy said with a soft smile, although her eyes were still full of stunned disbelief and pain. "This shouldn't be any different."
"Give me your wand," Hermione suddenly said after a moment of silence.
"What?"
"Give me your wand!" Hermione said in a testy voice as Buffy slowly grabbed her robes from behind her and pulled out her wand, handing it over to the other woman.
"What are you going to do with it?"
"We don't have much time," Hermione said, frowning at the door suddenly. "Harry was about to contact Sirius when I came here. There's only two of us who know what I'm about to tell you now, so you have to make a choice."
"What's the choice?" Buffy asked her, blinking.
"All or nothing."
Buffy didn't need another second. She grinned. It was more of a grimace, yet it held the sheer determination of a true Gryffindor.
"Give it all."
"That's what I thought," Hermione said, whispering softly under her breath as she drew the tips of the two wands together. A small strand of violet passed between them before Hermione handed Buffy back her wand.
"What did you do?"
"Listen, Buffy, there isn't much time," Hermione said, now positively certain she heard footsteps in the hallway. She stood up and Buffy pulled herself up, both women staring at each other.
"This is what I came up with..."
- Present -
The Dark Mark was still glowing in the sky hours after the Slayers had left the Hogwarts grounds, even into the middle of the night.
All students had been ordered to their respective common rooms and all guests had been asked to gather in the Great Hall so that Professor Dumbledore could address them in due time.
Harry was still staring at Hermione, thinking that his girlfriend, should he be able to call her that now, was up to something. How did she know what Buffy had planned? Unless, it had been Hermione's plan... she had been talking to Buffy when he and Faith had arrived at the Room of Requirement earlier that evening...
Something was seriously wrong, or else something was seriously right. His sister may not have lost her mind. Then again, there was always the possibility that Hermione did have nothing to do with Buffy's sudden change of attitude and hair color and that his sister truly did lose her marbles.
Sirius had managed to get out of Hogwarts, as well. Faith had bought him the time by drawing attention to herself and Buffy, knowing full well her brother wasn't going to risk his neck by being caught so early in the game.
Percy had finally been alerted to what had happened at Hogwarts as was among the first of the Ministry officials to arrive once his beloved friend had disappeared at midnight on the first day of February.
Professor McGonagall followed the Gryffindors back to their Common Room, her eagle-sharp eyes searching out for any stragglers. She seemed intent on making sure that Harry stayed inside, and even Ron and Hermione, because although they weren't as close to the two women as Harry was, they still had their ties.
"I ask that you all remain inside for the time being," she said sternly, folding her arms across her chest as though daring someone to break the rules. "That means you, too, Potter." She glanced up at the seventh years, who looked frightened. "I expect our Head Girl to make certain things stay calm, am I correct?"
"You can count on me, ma'am," Emma Vance said in a soft, lost voice.
She gave Emma a soft smile before fixing each and every one of the Gryffindors with a stern look. And then she swept out.
She moved to close the portrait hole behind her, which sounded with a bang.
Harry immediately turned to Hermione, who was shaking next to him. He hadn't noticed she'd pulled her hand away from his and was twisting it in her lap.
"Hermione?" he asked softly. "Do you know something?"
She shook her head. Her eyes were filling with tears.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, catching onto Harry's suspicions.
"Don't talk to me," Hermione told them both in a cool voice as she walked away from them to sit in front of the fireplace. Her eyes seemed to be focused on something.
"Hermione, what did you do?" Harry asked her gently.
"She didn't do anything."
It was Ginny. She was standing behind the sofa, her arms folded, her blue eyes glinting dangerously. "So get off of her back, Harry. Now."
He had never heard Ginny use this tone of voice before, ever. He lifted his hand from Hermione's knee and stood up, backing away. Ron moved to look at his sister. He was startled to see that there was a coldness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Ginny?" he asked weakly.
Downstairs, Professor McGonagall had arrived. There were more than one hundred Aurors in the Great Hall. The House tables had been magicked back against the walls, leaving one long table in the middle, where many of them were sitting.
Percy Weasley was among them, looking very pale.
Professor Dumbledore had just explained what happened.
So many of the Aurors were stunned.
"You let an eighteen-year-old girl gain the knowledge to perform these advanced spells and then sent her off to the Death Eaters?" one of them asked in amazement, looking at the Headmaster as though he were convinced he'd lost his mind.
"She's nineteen."
The Auror glanced across the table and saw Percy's pale face and the stressed white lines around his mouth.
"My mistake."
"Are you certain this was wise, Albus?"
"It was her decision to make, Minerva," he said, giving her his serene blue-eyed glance with a patient smile. "I do believe she made the best decision for all involved."
Oliver was still standing in the Entrance Hall, staring out at the fading sparks bearing the Dark Mark. His insides were completely twisted and he felt more than miserable.
She hadn't spoken to him in nearly two days, and the one thing she'd said to him before she left was, "Goodbye."
"I don't know if I'll ever truly understand her," he said quietly under his breath.
"I'm not sure anyone ever will."
Oliver jumped a bit as Remus Lupin stepped into the light, his eyes drawn and his face was grey, tired and worn. He gave Oliver a tense smile. "I don't know how it must feel to be in your position right now. I can tell that you have deep feelings for her."
"I do," Oliver said sincerely. His face tightened as he turned his gaze back to the window. "And I thought she felt the same way, but..."
"Don't assume anything until you know what choice she made," Remus said quietly. "This was a great personal risk for her to do this stunt."
"Doesn't make it hurt any less," Oliver muttered.
"No," Remus said sadly. "I don't suppose it ever does. But she was the one who made the choice to go out there and take care of her business instead of waiting for someone else she loved to turn up dead." He cast Oliver a softening glance. "I don't even want to know how over the edge she would have gone had you been killed."
"Or Harry," Oliver said, hint face tinting pink.
"The thing is, there are thousands of us who would jump at the chance to go after whomever killed Harry," Remus said with a slight smile. "I know that you're grateful you're not that popular. I can tell you she feels strongly for you, as you do for her. You have one hell of a woman. Don't let her go just because you've seen her Dark side. She's worth more than that."
Oliver listened to his former Professor walk away before turning his gaze back to the sky.
"I hope that wherever you are now, you're okay... I don't know what I have to do to make sure you get back in one piece... but, I'll do it. I'd do anything for you..."
- - - - -
The wind was making such a rushing noise in her ears that Buffy almost screamed for it to stop. Instead, she pushed herself up from where she'd been lying on her stomach, the portkey wrapped around her wrist.
She moaned as she lifted her head and she gasped as the cold wind whipped her long, black hair away from her face.
Where were they?
"Elizabeth?" a soft voice whispered in her ear. She turned and saw a ghostly figure looming above her.
"What..." Buffy started, until she recognized the young woman standing before her. Shoulder-length red hair. Green eyes... Harry's eyes... "Mom?"
The woman smiled at her and reached out a ghostly hand to touch Buffy's face, although her hand passed right through it. The light was starting to fade.
"No!" Buffy said, shaking her head swiftly. "No, please, don't go! Not now... now when I saw this close!"
"You have to believe in you, Elizabeth," the woman said as she faded away. "It's your only release..."
Buffy felt bitter tears in her eyes as the voice ebbed away in the wind and she turned to see Faith rolling over and sitting up.
"What the hell was that?" Faith muttered as she put a hand to her head. "I feel like I just shot up something majorly serious."
It was then she noticed Buffy's face. "B? You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost..."
"Just my luck," Buffy said, shaking the image out of her mind as she turned to Faith, who recoiled from her. Buffy was still intimidating with her long black hair and those cold, soulless eyes. She then rose fully to her feet and drew in a sharp breath.
"What is it?" Faith asked, rising as well. As her vision cleared and the black smoke swirling around them faded into a pre-dawn mist, she saw exactly what it was.
They were on top of some sort of tower. Hundreds, if not thousands of feet in the air. There was a castle behind them; it rose tall, black and deadly-looking.
"Oh, crap!" Faith groaned as she turned to look at Buffy, who was lifting her wand off the ground again.
It was then that things started to go terribly wrong.
The dewdrops on the top of the granite tower suddenly started freezing one by one as the air around them dropped in temperature. It seemed as though total blackness was closing in around them.
"B-B-Buffy?" Faith asked.
"Quiet," Buffy said in her cold, dark voice as the two Slayers moved so that they were standing back-to-back.
A shadow passed above them.
"There's something out there," Faith said quietly.
"I see it," Buffy replied, her voice as quiet as her wand came out of her pockets.
"M-My head..." Faith moaned as she suddenly collapsed onto her knees. "I... it's so cold... far too cold..."
Faith Landing was standing before a mirror, wrapped in a single white towel. Her bloody hand lifted up and wiped the steam from glass. Her face had been struck so many times she could hardly recognize her thirteen-year-old self. Her puffy black eyes were barely opened to slits and yet she forced her broken lips into a smile and reached for the makeup bag she'd been keeping readily handy.
A fifteen-year-old Faith was standing in the graveyard of a small Arizona desert as her female Watcher was thrown about by Kokistos and his other vampire thieves. Faith huddled near a headstone as her Watcher screamed as an axe flashed through the air as lightning arched in the distance.
So much screaming... so much torment...
Buffy and Faith were standing back-to-back, swords in hand, facing an unbelievable number of foes. Faith watched as the sword was kicked out of Buffy's hand and as she dove for it, a flash of silver came from nowhere, spearing the Slayer in half as Buffy screamed in agony...
Then, from the distance, came a dark voice. "Expecto Patronum!"
It was as though the darkness was starting to lift. As Faith bent down to see Buffy dying in her arms, like many of the nightmares she'd had since Buffy had left Sunnydale, the memory was starting to fade away.
Buffy staggered to her knees, hundreds of Dementors swarming above them, shutting out all light.
Her wand hand was trembling so badly as image after image flashed through her mind.
"If you walk out of this house, don't you even think about coming back."
Joyce.
"You're going to Hell."
Angelus.
"It wasn't our world anymore. They made it theirs. And they had fun."
Willow.
"You'll never be as strong as you think you are..."
Who in the hell was that?
"Unless you let it go..."
It was the same damned voice which had woken her up. No wonder she was so pissy.
Why was it so hard to stand up.
"Close your eyes."
Now her own words were being thrown back into her face.
She closed her eyes.
In her sight now was the most beautiful image she had ever seen. It was beyond being with Angel or even her new relationship with Oliver.
Her parents were in her mind. Her Mother was smiling that watery smile of hers. Her Father was standing next to her Mother, his arm around her shoulders. Buffy was looking at herself in the third-person, because she saw her parent staring at the dark-haired, evil-eyed reflection of their daughter.
"We made you." James.
"We created you." Lily.
"I will destroy you."
"What?" Both Buffy's seemed to blink and glance upwards. The Dementors were moving closer. Angelus' voice was invading her mind again.
"Buffy," Faith whimpered next to her.
"Believe in yourself."
Buffy turned her hateful eyes towards her parents. "I don't understand what you want from me. You're dead. And looking at you isn't going to bring you back."
"No," Lily said, walking towards her. "But we'll give you more."
A hand touched her face.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Buffy's clarity had come back with a sudden burst at the thought of seeing her parents alive. A huge cloud of silver vapor shot out of her wand and formed itself into a phoenix before charging at the Dementors which had been closing in around them.
Faith began to stir at her feet. "Buffy..."
Buffy's wand hand held steady until she felt the surge of power overcome her. It was darkness and it was spreading fast. She lifted her head and let out a loud shriek into the night.
Down below, far below, a small group of Death Eaters were gathered, waiting.
They heard her scream and many recoiled save one, who just stared at the top of the Tower as both Slayers rose as the silver phoenix disappeared into the night.
"She has passed the first test," Quentin said quietly as the others uncovered their ears. "Bring them down and bind them. The both of them."
- - - - -
Percy was still pacing in his room when a knock sounded at his door. He turned his head and was surprised to see his younger brother walking into the room.
"Ron," Percy said, before resuming his pacing.
"What do you know?" Ron asked in a quiet voice. It was daybreak and Percy looked terribly exhausted. There was a boyish helplessness about him that startled Ron. He hadn't seen it in quite a few years and he'd believed Percy to be incapable of feeling anything like it. He looked lost.
Percy stopped moving. He turned to Ron with a tortured look on his face. "I just knew... I could feel her anger..."
"How connected are you two?" Ron demanded angrily. "I know you think of her like she's some best friend, but--"
"Let me put it the one way I know you'll understand it," Percy said, matching Ron's rage. "She is my best friend. She went out there to put her life on the line, and she took a hell of a lot of advanced magic to do it. Do you think it was easy for me to sit in my office knowing she was planning something so incredibly stupid? I didn't know what she was going to do. I didn't know until Professor Dumbledore came back and told us what was going on." He fell silent and started resuming his paces. "It doesn't matter, anyway. There's no way she'll be coming back, alive. There are hundreds of Aurors from around the world looking for her."
"What about her power, Percy?" Ron asked uneasily. "You know something about that, don't you?"
"It's best not to think about that right now," Percy said coldly as he forced himself to sit down, although he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Ron noticed this and stepped forward.
"Do Mom and Dad know?"
"Of course not," Percy snapped. "They'll think that I'm Percy and that I love having friends in high places. You're best friends with the one Wizard who can destroy Voldemort. And my best friend is a girl who, if she loses control of herself, can destroy the world."
Ron paled considerably. "Buffy... she can do that?"
"What, you think her Slay powers are that innocent?" Percy asked, affronted. "She has a hell of a lot of power, and after she drained those advanced spellbooks, she just got a hell of a lot more. You-Know-Who knows that she has this power now, and he wants it for himself. The reason she went there was because she wants to take out a Death Eater. That's all right and merry for her, until she figures out there's more creatures than just men to take down if you want the path to the Dark one clear." His face grew more troubled.
"You're worried about her..." Ron said quietly.
"Of course I am," Percy said in a mild voice. "She's probably the best thing that has ever happened to me, and watching her spiral away isn't exactly how I wanted it to end." He closed his eyes. "I am also worried about the other one. You know, the one that kept calling me Peter."
"Faith."
Percy nodded. "She's got a lot of darkness in her, and not a lot to ground her, other than Buffy, and she's really not thinking with all of her braincells at the moment. I'd be more worried about what Faith will do than Buffy."
"Why would you say that?" Ron asked defensively. "Just because you have a grudge against her doesn't make it--"
"She's as close to Buffy as a sister, as a soulmate," Percy said, cutting off Ron. "I know that Buffy would do anything for her. But Buffy really isn't herself anymore. The magicks took that away from her. Her humanity... it's gone. All she has now is hate, unless she finds that she can bring herself back. As for Faith, who knows what will happen to her. I'm worried about her, too. About the both of them."
"What happens if she can't?"
Percy looked extremely disturbed about this now. "I don't know. But if she turns evil... the Ministry will have to detain her. Possibly incapaciate her."
"Or... kill her?" Ron asked, his stomach twisting at the thought of it. Oh, this was really going to kill Harry when he found out about it!
Percy nodded. "As for Faith, there aren't many in this world who see her as anyone to keep alive. She probably would be killed, on sight."
"What happens now?" Ron asked, feeling the wave of exhaustion hit him.
"You should get some rest," Percy said, turning to stare into the fireplace, his eyes drooping slightly. "We all should. You have lessons in a few hours and you could probably use some sleep. I am going to contact our parents and let them know what has happened, although Father might already know, being at the Ministry after hours and all. He'll want to know that the Slayers have disappeared."
Ron left the room after saying good night, but Percy didn't move. His mind was moving to a conversation that had taken place between him and Buffy just four days earlier.
He closed his eyes.
She had been most distressed after being caught after hours by Filch, again. He had been sitting on his bed, reading when she'd walked in, nearly in tears. He'd patted the bed next to him and she'd shuffled over, moaning, "I hate that Caretaker! I'm going to pickle his toads someday if he doesn't start acting a bit nicer!"
"Buffy, it is well after midnight," Percy reminded her gently as she dropped next to him. "You can't exactly blame the man for wanting to keep you safe, can you?"
"It didn't help me two weeks ago when the evil psycho tried to drown me again," Buffy mumbled, feeling insulted as Percy wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.
Percy had been noticing these different things about her. Her face was more lined now, making her appear a few years older than she really was, somewhere close to his age, which was nearing twenty one. Her movements had a heaviness about them. She'd spoken as though it were the weight of the world on her shoulders, but Percy half-joked about it being the weight of her conscience.
She sighed and looked at him. "I really wish it was all it was," she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. "If it really were just my conscience, I would have killed that bastard a long time ago."
"But the weight of the world makes it sound so final and dangerous," Percy protested. "You being my friend and all, it makes it sound like every battle you have ever faced was a life-or-death situation."
"Most were," Buffy said as she laid down beside him. "I think I've told you most of the stories, but I haven't told you about the battle with the Master as of yet. That was life-or-death, being the Hellmouth was about to take over everything. And did I tell you about the time when the Hellmouth reopened when the evil Witch demons returned to perform some sort of ritual sacrifice? This is my life. It's like... blood is a turn-on, literally. Beheadings and stakings are my gig but lately I've been singing the tune of 'here's my line', only now I've forgotten how the last verse goes. I think it's something about me being the first half of a chosen pair to rid the world of vampires, demons and the forces of darkness."
"Do you remember all those months ago when you asked me what it was to be normal?" Percy asked, looking at her.
"Not really," she said, her returning gaze apologetic. "I'm not really doing much in the recall department. Perhaps I should try for a lobotomy. That's what Professor Snape said today when I fussed up my Cheerful Draught." She choked out a fake laugh that sounded suspiciously like Sirius's bark. "As for me being normal, I really haven't been for a long time. I've felt almost normal lately though."
"He's just a miserable old bat anyway," Percy said under his breath. "Anyway... I remember telling you that your superpowers were capable of anything."
"Not today, they aren't," she said, sighing again, her eyes closing.
"Why not? Because you said so?" Percy asked her, feeling slightly irekd that she was laying on his bed half-asleep while he wanted to talk. "And what was it you said about you-know-who picking you off? Unless he was planning on pissing you off, which I'm assuming he wasn't, he's not doing his job." He took a deep breath. "You saved my life, Buffy. You stepped in and used your powers when you didn't have to. There's a word for a person like you. A heroine. That's what you are to me, you're my sodding hero. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be alive today. And that means more to me than... pretty much anything, really. So when you say you're holding the Slayer in, I don't buy it. I can't. I've felt that power. It doesn't go away."
"Percy, please... I'm so tired. I'm tired of trying not to fight against people I hate for ruining a life I never knew I had. I'm tired of living a fake life while people around me get hurt and die. I'm so tired of fighting the Slayer inside of me, wanting to break out and prove, once and for all, that a Slayer really isn't a killer. There's darkness inside of me, Perce... and I'm too tired to fight it. If it came, I don't know how I'd get through." She looked up at him with tears shining in her eyes. "What will happen to me if the darkness gets to be too much?"
"You'll turn into one of them," Percy replied darkly. "A Death Eater, I mean. It wouldn't be so bad. You'd get a nifty tattoo out of the deal."
"Oh, I've had one of those," Buffy said, making a face and slapping his arm. "I was being serious, you dope."
"So was I. You worry too much."
"It's in my nature."
"Do you always have to be such a prat?"
"Always," she said, smiling sleepily up at him before lying her head against his shoulder. Within five minutes she was soundly asleep.
Percy opened his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, resting his head on the armrest of the sofa and trying to breathe more normally. He knew he should take his own advice and sleep, but he was far too tense to sleep.
Just four days ago she'd been unwilling to pick up the slack and attack. Suddenly she was supergirl on steroids. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. She obviously had been told what to do, but it was really bothering him because he didn't know anything.
For all he knew, his best friend was already dead.
And he knew it was going to go from bad to worse in a very short amount of time.
Hermione stood upstairs in Gryffindor Tower, unable to sleep. She'd been unable to break her eye contact with the fireplace, although once it dimmed to nothing, she got quite cold.
She was surprised when she felt someone throw a blanket over her. She finally lifted her eyes and saw Ron standing there, looking very serious.
"Where's Harry?" she asked briskly.
"In bed," yawned Ron. He suddenly stopped and gazed at her.
She didn't look tired at all.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked her with a small bit of confusion in his eyes.
"I've been better," Hermione said, turning to stare at the dead fireplace again as she snuggled into the blanket. "I..."
Ron, who had been about to turn in for a few hours of sleep before facing the prospect of a cold Friday morning, turned back to his best friend, suspicion flashing in his eyes as he glared at the back of Hermione's head.
"I don't know how deep you're involved in this, Hermione. But I know you. You're deep. You're so deep, you can't get out. What are you playing at?"
Hermione forced her face to keep neutral as she curled up into a tight ball. "It's nothing."
"Damnit, Hermione!" Ron said, the drowsiness vanishing as he thundered across the Common Room. "I don't know what your deal is, but get over yourself."
Hermione's eyes flashed with anger as she turned to Ron, furious. "If you had any idea how I felt when I watched her do what she did, then you'll know how very little I had to do with anything, Ronald Weasley!"
"But you had something to do with it, didn't you?" Ron demanded. "You put Buffy in that spot, and now Faith is out there, too. Both of the good guys are gone now, Hermione. What did you do?"
"It's not what I did that matters anymore," Hermione said with a sad smile. "It's how I did it."
Ron let out a groan of frustration and stomped up the stairs towards the boy's dormitory.
As soon as he left, a small 'pop' sounded as Sirius's head reappeared.
"I'm sorry we got cut off," Hermione said calmly as Sirius blinked up at her, looking as serious as he ever had. "It was just Ron... he's upset."
"Do you realize what you have done? You may have caused a chain reaction that may never be undone!" Sirius said, his voice full of stunned disbelief by what Hermione had just told him moments before Ron had nearly interrupted them.
"I know," Hermione said, dropping her eyes and sighing in agitation. "But Harry is going to despise me for what I've done, so the less he knows, the better. He loves his sister and knowing that there's even a possibility of... you know... it's going to hurt him to know she won't be coming out of this alive."
- Seven Hours Before -
"This is what I came up with," Hermione said, unfolding a bit of parchment from her robes and handing it across the punching bag to Buffy. "I put a charm on your wand so that, when used in the whirl I'm about to show you, it will bring you exactly what you need. You need the knowledge of spells. There are books in the restricted section of the Library that will--"
"Why are you doing this?" Buffy asked her in a quiet voice as she read the parchment, both eyebrows slightly raised. "Don't you know that this is far above and beyond what either one of us is capable of doing?"
"It's next to impossible for a Witch," Hermione said, biting her lip. "But not for a Slayer. Especially if there's two..."
"No," Buffy said shortly. "I'm working solo on this."
"Fine," Hermione said quickly. "The thing is, you need to drain the books."
"How?"
"You have to let it go."
"Let what go?"
"The Slayer. You have to release the Slayer. That power will guide you to what you need. You have to drain the books by putting your hands over them. That'll get you the dark power you need. As for getting you-know-who's attention, well, you'll know by then what you have to do. There's just one other thing..."
Buffy stared at her. She'd believed Hermione to be the perfect version of a female Giles. She'd never known her to be a Giles and Willow combo.
"What is it?"
"You have to give something up in order to get more, Buffy," Hermione said uneasily. "When you take those powers, they have to put something back, something big. You have to sacrifice something when you become the essence."
"I give me up?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowing.
"Well, not exactly," Hermione said uncertainly. "It isn't you... it's just... oh, blimey..."
"Hermione, just tell me."
"The rage will overtake you, Buffy. The anger, the hate... they'll lead you to where you need to go. But you might not be able to control it. I only wish I knew what to expect, but I don't. I don't know if you'll be able to release the hold it has over you. There's a chance that you won't be coming out of this alive."
"Why not?" Buffy asked, for the first time sounding a bit frightened.
"Because it needs your soul."
Buffy's eyes were round and very wide now. "Oh."
- - - - -
There was the clang of a chain as both Slayers were released from their position and toppled upside down, hanging by their ankles, their fingertips just brushing the floor.
"Well, isn't this nice?" Buffy snarled as she clawed at the ground. "First they knock us out with that damned Confundus Charm and now they got us by relishing us as incompetent Muggles."
Faith just sort of glanced at Buffy in mild amusement. "I didn't know you could think such dark thoughts about anyone, you of so-big-heart."
"Yeah, well, that part of me was the part I had to give up in order to come on this little excursion," Buffy snapped as she started squirming in her chains. "Damn, they're tight."
Faith was staring at her. "Exactly what did you do?"
"I'm the walking dead, all right?" Buffy asked as she bent at the waist, struggling to reach her ankles before collapsing at the effort. "Damn it."
"They took our wands," Faith said in an undertone, noticing that both sticks of wood were now sitting on a table near the doorway.
"Swing," Buffy muttered next to her. Faith turned back to look at her and saw the older Slayer was starting to move again.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting us the hell out of this predicament," Buffy snapped waspishly as she started to move. "If we break this bar, we can get the frell out of this mess."
"Brilliant," Faith muttered as they both started to swing, using their moving chains as momentum.
Within moments, there was the sound of grating metal, a snap and both Slayers fell roughly onto the ground.
"Damn, I hate this place," Faith moaned as she pushed herself into a seated position. Buffy was standing above her, looking deliberately at the door.
"It's unguarded."
She was using that low, dangerous voice again. Faith had a feeling Buffy could sense things that were beyond her own sensory range.
"What are you--?"
But Buffy held out her hand. At that moment, her wand flew back into it, and Faith managed to scramble over and seize her own, not really knowing the magic necessarily well enough to pull a Willow like Buffy had just done.
She was also doing something else that seemed peculiar. She had pocketed her wand and was holding her arms out, palm up, her eyes glowing.
Dark light shot up from the floor and surrounded them both.
"I'm ready."
Faith turned as Buffy glanced at her.
Her voice was even lower. Her eyes appeared to be darker.
Buffy turned and walked out of the room with a cold elegance.
"I wish she'd stop doing that," Faith muttered as she took off after her.
Buffy had stopped right outside the door and Faith had to grasp the cold stone archway so she wouldn't knock them both over. It just seemed like a really stupid idea with someone like Buffy standing there like a power core ready to burst, and Faith just barely holding onto her sanity with all of the darkness and evil just calling out to her in this holy nightmare.
"Ego venire contra!" Buffy said, lifting the palm of her hand. A small swirl of black light darted in between her fingers. A tiny bulb of pure black light lifted from her palm. "Concilio silenti alio creperum!"
Faith was staring at her incredulously. "Where did all the Latin come from?"
"Ille quod nolens voluntas adsum."
The black dot lifted into the air and began spiralling around them.
"Accesso."
"Buffy?"
"Favete linguis!" she shouted, her voice even more distorted as the black bulb glowed red. "De mortuis nihil nisi bonum. Accesso!"
The red light shot up above them and Buffy lifted her head and screamed, the sharp, piercing scream that would knock anyone within a five foot vicinity, including Faith, off her feet.
The black light was spinning all around her again. She lifted her hands and smiled darkly. "Take me to them."
And in a flash of black light and lightning, she was gone.
Faith just watched in disbelief. "Where did she go?"
- Eight Hours Earlier -
"Okay, so you want me to give up my soul," Buffy said slowly. "Do you understand how much I'm not liking this plan to begin with?"
"You get it back," Hermione said quickly. "You just have to fight for it, first."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm assuming you're going to go into hell, literally, just to kill the one man who's basically destroyed your life."
"In a nutshell, really."
"Right. So you hand over your soul for safe keeping and allow yourself to work without a conscience. Isn't that what a Slayer is?"
"I've believed for many years that a Slayer wasn't a killer," Buffy said slowly as she read the parchment one last time. "But in the sake of me wanting to find and end a brutal murderer, well, my time has come. The time has come for drastic actions."
"The books are in the Library. And you have to get away from the school. The Slayer inside of you will attack and kill everything to get to its destination..."
"Which is what?"
"Voldemort," Hermione said, her voice trembling. "It wants to get back to the source of the dark power. It wants to fight it. It wants to destroy it."
"All right," Buffy said, resuming her attacks on her punching bag. "I'm in."
At that exact same moment, Harry and Faith walked into the room.
- - - - -
Buffy landed with a swirl of light and it took her a moment to gather her bearings as she took in her surroundings.
"Miss Potter," said a soft, velvety voice from behind her.
She turned. She was being surrounded by figures in long black cloaks, wearing black masks, their eye holes cut out.
She brought her hands together and her head gave a small bow.
"Tacent, satis laudant," she commented quietly.
"See how quickly the essence and the magicks have taken her," Quention said again as she met his eyes. "Already she has lost her speech... more will come." He paused a moment for the dramatic effect of it. "Take her!"
Buffy was faster than she'd ever been before. Even as green and red lights shot at her, she managed to duck and avoid every single one of them as she shot towards Quentin, who took a startled step back.
One of the Death Eaters laid a hand on her arm. She managed to flip him over and kick him across the room into one of the beautiful Roman columns surrounding a large room covered with marble tile, distinctive artwork and columns, and lots of plant life. If Buffy didn't know any better, she could have sworn she was in a museum.
Until she saw the stained glass arching far above the golden chandeliers. It was the Dark Mark set in black glass, which let a little of the morning sunlight flow though.
A curse hit her in her moment of thought and she snarled as the curse seemed to flow through her. It had been the cruciatus curse, because she could feel the girl within her screaming in agony. Instead, she turned to face the Wizard.
"Simplex munditiis?" she taunted as she kicked at a metal rod lying on the floor at her feet. It spun into her hand. "Non omnia moriar."
"Is that so?" a soft voice hissed into her ear.
It was then that all hell broke loose.
She turned, jamming the rod into the chin of the man over her shoulder. As he recoiled back, six of the cloaked figures swooped down on her, bearing swords they'd conjured from thin air.
She flipped backwards, doing a strange sort of backflip. Once she finished the flip, she bent down and used a spin kick to knock the sword out of the hands of one Death Eater while another swung dangerously close to her face. As they all descended upon her, she burst out, snarling, her black mane flying with her fists.
It didn't help there were over two dozen more surrounding her, many of them trying to curse her as she fought off the six brave souls already swooping down on her.
She didn't notice the one swordsman coming at her from behind, but before he could strike, another figure came from nowhere and took the blade in her bare hands.
"Who said you get to have all the fun?" Faith grunted as she thrust upward, the heel of the sword colliding with its' bearers face. She had come running when she'd heard the sounds of a fight above her. It had taken her far too long in her own opinion to find a way up, but she had.
Faith dodged a curse as she swung underneath an arm aiming for a direct blow to her head. She came up behind the figure and slammed her elbow into the nape of his neck. The figure crumpled at her feet and she repeated her action for the fellow standing at his left, turning to her with a menacing scowl.
Buffy was continuing to kick and punch her way through the crowd of black cloaks to get to Quentin, who just stood there calmly, waiting for her advances.
It was starting to get frustrating now. She wanted to rip out his throat for herself, but she was fighting the same morons over and over again. What she needed was to get rid of them in one fell swoop.
Faith seemed to sense this and glanced around, finally grabbing the metal flag pole from the wall and knocking one of the men out with it. She used the sharp end to jab one of the morons who was still trying to hex her. Ripping off the black flag with her bare hands, she ran over and slammed it into the floor.
"Buffy!" she shouted.
Buffy ran up onto the back of the Death Eater she had just knocked down and flew through the air, grabbing onto the pole and spinning her way down, using the rod to knock down anyone who came near them. But the path to Quentin was clear.
She smiled as she and Faith rose. Buffy reached down with a bloody hand and lifted a sword from the ground and held it to the light, the smile never sliding off of her sweaty face.
"So primitive, so undeniably brutal, the nature of the true Slayer," Quentin taunted her quietly as she glared at him, fire flashing behind her hooded eyes. "How do you live with such an animal?"
"She doesn't do it alone," Faith replied, digging the flagpole back up and knocking it into the back of the head of a woman who'd just try to hex the original Slayer, who'd had to drop and roll out of the way before snapping back to her feet.
"This ends here," Buffy said quietly, staring at her scary reflection on the sword before raising her eyes. She turned to the Death Eaters and pulled out her wand. "Stay back."
All of them were thrown back as a black shield went up around her. Faith found herself rolling underneath it to stand beside her sister Slayer.
"So, you would die as she will?" Quentin asked her.
"I'm kind of dumb like that," Faith replied, twirling the pole lazily in her hands. "I also get kind of pissed off when people I like turn up dead because of morons like you."
"Hmmm, colorful," Quentin commented dryly as he turned back to Buffy. "Well, you might as well do what you came here to do."
"My pleasure," Buffy snarled as she ran forward, her sword raised.
She was hit by a jet of green light. Faith turned to help her up when a second voice, much darker and full of more evil cried out, "Crucio!"
It hit Faith in the chest and she fell, twitching, gasping and screaming. The pole fell out of her hands and rolled out of reach as Buffy looked at her with those cold, chilling eyes before lifting them to look at the person standing next to Quentin.
Only, it wasn't a person. Not really. It was a cloaked figure. But he had far too much dark power to even be considered a Death Eater.
It was Lord Voldemort.
Buffy rose to her feet, glaring at him. "You."
"I expect you have a few questions for me, Potter," the voice replied from under the cloak as it slowly circled around them. Buffy, rooted to the spot because of her undeniable curiosity, and Faith still twitching and panting at her feet. "But this... this is what you have chosen to become?"
She just glared at him over her scratched face, her chest rising and falling slowly.
"I'm a good person," Buffy said levelly.
"You have no soul on you that I can sense," the voice hissed. "Surely you would not have made yourself such an appealing target otherwise."
"What?" Faith gasped from the ground. "B, you didn't tell me--"
"Silencio!" a Death Eater roared, and Faith's speech was cut off.
But the cloaked figure of Lord Voldemort held up a pale hand with long, white fingers. "Silence! The Slayer remains with me. Kill the spare."
"No," Buffy said, her anger rising again. "She lives. Or you'll die. You know I have the power to kill you."
"And I know you never would, because it would awaken your true nature. Is that not what you came here to discover, Potter? Because when I understood this myself, I realized my life was not a threat. But yours will be. Do you think the Muggle-lover will ever protect you in that school when you carry the darkness within you? No, no, my dear... we have much to discuss."
He nodded at two of the other figures standing behind them. "Put the spare in her cell. Bring the other to me. We have much to discuss."
Buffy allowed herself to be dragged from behind. It was all part of the plan anyway. As she passed by Quentin, she threw him a scathing look. "You're a dead man."
"Clever girl," he said, reaching out to touch her bruised chin. "When all of this has passed, you will wish to join me, you stupid child. Not kill me."
"You'd be surprised," Buffy said with a cold smile as she was shoved along.
The twitching, silent heap that was Faith was seized by a Death Eater and lifted into the air as the Cruciatus curse was finally lifted. Another jinx came from a wand, and Faith was left unconscious as she was carried away.
Buffy didn't have any choice but to do what she'd been told she had to do. She landed on the floor hard when they shoved her, in front of a chair. There was a figure standing in front of her, carrying a wet towel. It was a man with a silver hand... Wormtail. Remus had told her about him.
He was wiping her face now. It was then he noticed her eyes. She had her father's eyes.
"Leave us, Wormtail," came the high-pitched demonic voice from above her as a figure swooped over them and came to rest in a chair facing her. "Clean her cuts and leave us."
Wormtail gave her a sanctimonious little bow before hurrying out, slamming the door shut behind them.
- - - - -
Latin Translations:
ego venire contra - come to me (or I)
concilio silenti alio creperum - bring together the dead for the darkness
ille quod nolens voluntas adsum - that which unwilling will come to pass
accesso - come
de mortuis nihil nisi bonum - say nothing but good about the dead
favete linguis - keep quiet (or, shut up)
tacent, satis laudant - their silence is good praise
simplex munditiis - too few manners
non omnia moriar - not all of me will die
I should probably also mention that I don't speak Latin, nor does Grace. I asked my father for help, but the most he could give me was the Nicean Creed in Latin, and unless I'm going for a show of religion, it probably wouldn't help this case.
As for the second chapter of the double update, I haven't gotten it back from Grace yet, so I can only hope it'll come before I go to work tonight. As for now, I need sleep.