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A/N hey everyone!!! Lotsa people have been asking 'why don't they just give Buffy a Veritaserum and absolve (didn't know that was a word) her from her guilt. If that happened, she would go back to Sunnydale Happy as Larry and I wouldn't have a fic to write about lol. Thanks for reviews!!! They're all welcome!
IMPORTANT
Now, for plot reasons only, Buffy staked Drusilla and Spike, after Angelus was sent to hell. ANGELUS, NOT ANGEL. This is really important to the storyline. Thanks heaps!
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Buffy hummed as she waited in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Duh? She was the Slayer! As if she really needed it. She was sitting in her usual chair, bopping her head in time with the music in her head. She was tapping a quill against the hard, rich, oak desk when the girl she had been waiting for arrived.
"Hermione," Buffy greeted her warmly, pretending that they were friends.
The brunette nodded. "Summers," she said indifferently. Buffy winced inwardly.
"Yikes. Anyone else feel suddenly colder?" she joked, looking towards Harry and Ron, who had just entered the room behind her. Ron sneered at her, but Harry had the decency to laugh.
"Cool it, ladies," he teased.
Hermione had just narrowed her eyes. "Can I help you, Summers?" she said, a little less curtly than before.
Buffy almost shrugged. Oh, well. This was as good as things were going to get. "Yeah. You know that library book I gave you, Vampyr? I was wondering if I could have it. There's a couple of things I want to look at."
Hermione regarded her for a moment. "Sure," she said after a while, and pulled the book out of her shoulder satchel. She handed the book to Buffy, who took it calmly.
"Thanks," she said off-handedly, already starting to pack it away. Hermione wasn't finished, though.
"So, I suppose you like Defence?" she said in a conversational tone. Buffy looked closer though, and saw that she was looking very shrewd.
"Yeah, I do. Why?" Buffy answered, also in a pleasant tone.
Hermione shrugged. "Well, I mean, that book is really useful for people who like to learn about DADA. I mean, there are so many ways to kill that I didn't know about…only evil things, of course."
Hermione almost spat out the word 'kill'. The way she said the last part was so sickly sweet and naïve, Buffy shuddered. She was still staring at Buffy so intensely that the blonde felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck. She forced herself to remain neutral.
"Yeah. Well, I suppose you learn something new everyday. But not you, surely. I've heard you're a total brain. I'm sure you know lots of ways to kill already," she said lightly. The brunette raised her eyebrows, and she smiled somewhat coldly.
"Excuse me, class is about to start." With that, Hermione swept away with Ron to where the Gryffindors sat, and placed herself on her chair delicately. Buffy scowled inwardly. Who did she think she was? Cordelia? Please. After the Queen of Nasty back in Sunnydale, Hermione was nothing.
Presently, Harry grimaced, watching his two Gryffindor friends sit. "Ouch. You ladies really don't get along, do you?" it was more of an observation than a question.
Buffy 'hmmed'. "Yeah. You get that, I suppose. What with me being a scary Slytherin," she added, rolling her eyes comically. Just then, she felt a hand on her elbow.
"Not as scary as me," Malfoy said smoothly, meeting Harry's eye.
Harry looked decidedly unimpressed, and rolled his eyes. "The only thing scary about you is the hair," he said flatly, and winked at Buffy. "Later, Buff." He sat down in a chair next to Ron, but still across the aisle from Buffy.
The blonde girl smirked. Malfoy ignored the last jibe with dignity and sat down, Buffy following his example. She plonked herself down on a chair and swung her legs around, picking up a quill. She found it quite entertaining that she was situated in between Harry and Malfoy, but was disappointed when the DADA Professor came in because it called a halt to the exchange.
Buffy didn't really pay much attention during her DADA class. They were learning about Ascensions or something like that. She honestly couldn't give a fried fig. She didn't care about any of her studies, actually. Life is for living, she thought to herself. Living, not becoming a stuffy Giles wannabe.
During one of her frequent daydreaming sessions during the lesson, Buffy's glazed eyes were wandering around the room. Her gaze met Harry's and he winked at her again. She grinned and snapped back to reality, winking back. She blew him a kiss just to see his reaction. As she predicted, he grinned and looked back at the teacher. After a few seconds, he whipped back to look at her and mouthed 'boring'. Buffy just rolled her eyes and stifled a yawn.
Next to her, she felt Malfoy nudge her gently. "Flirting with Potter the poof, are we?" he whispered silkily. Buffy pulled a face.
"I have no idea what a poof is, but I'll bet it ain't nice. Must be British slang," she whispered back dryly. "Besides, what's it to you? Jealous?" she teased.
Malfoy chuckled quietly, so as not to draw attention from the DADA Professor. "Hardly. I'm just surprised you pick Peaches there."
Buffy felt a jolt. Peaches. That was the name Spike always used to call Angel, when her ex was a white-hat. She supposed it meant goody-two-shoes or something to that effect. Huh. Malfoy resembled Spike in so many ways, it was unnerving. She shivered. That hair, that attitude…it was bizarre.
"You remind me so much of Spike," she said to him quietly. Looking across the room, she briefly saw Harry look at her conversing with Malfoy. He looked a bit irritated, like he didn't want them socialising.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
She smirked. "Yeah. He was an arrogant bad-ass prick as well."
Malfoy almost laughed. "Lovely. So you think I'm an arrogant bad-ass prick?" he asked, amused.
She gave a grin. "Hell yeah."
"Summers! What did I just say?" the Professor quizzed.
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Buffy was walking back along the Slytherin corridor towards her common room with Malfoy. He was chatting pleasantly. She was glad to have another friend.
She paused as they passed the portrait that held Darla. Buffy smiled and began to say hello, but her words were halted when she realised that the vampiress was not there.
She pulled a face and turned to Malfoy. "Don't know where she's gone to. These picture things are still really weird to me. I mean, if I take a picture, it's because I want to look at it whenever I want! It's just annoying the way the people go all the time."
He smirked. "Yeah. I suppose you're just used to the muggle way of things."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Do you know you have a non-magic complex?"
He snorted. "Hardly."
They continued their banter, and Buffy was just passing when she saw something weird. There was a small mark in the portrait. Buffy paused and pulled Malfoy to the side, peering around him. She squinted at the small mark adorning the bottom-left hand corner.
It was in red, and stood out against the brown of the chair Darla usually sat on. The mark wasn't just a mark…Buffy scowled when she thought she recognised it from Sunnydale.
The mark was a strange triangle thingy. Buffy felt her throat contract. It was the mark that she had seen first when she was sixteen.
The mark of the Apocalypse. The mark of the Master.
Buffy's face bleached of colour. She grit her teeth, and stared at the mark fiercely. Malfoy pulled a face.
"Summers? What's the matter?" he drawled. She closed her eyes to clear her head, and gave a little shake.
"Oh, don't even go there."
He remained uncertain. "Right…okay then, if you're sure." With that, he shrugged and began walking again. She fell instep beside him. They didn't speak for the remainder of the journey. Once Buffy reached the common room, she ran to her room and opened the book. Vampyr to page 846. Buffy ran her eyes down the page and cursed.
She couldn't read a bloody thing.
She looked at a few of the words and frowned. She recognised a couple of words…
Il vampiro altico si chiama Il Maestro…
Buffy pulled a face. Maestro? That sounded Italian. There was a whole page of Italian she needed to read, and couldn't. She growled in frustration, and heard an echo in her stomach. Glancing at her watch, she realised that it was lunchtime.
Grabbing the book to puzzle over during her meal, she walked quickly to the Great Hall.
She had a quiet lunch. Malfoy still didn't know what all the fuss was about, so he left her in relative peace while she tried to make sense of the book. People were drifting out of the Great Hall after a while, but she stayed where she was.
She was wearing a terrible frown and glaring very hard at the book, daring it not to reveal its secrets, when she felt a pair of hands over her eyes.
"Guess who?" came a seductive male voice. Buffy grinned underneath.
"Malfoy," she said innocently.
The man behind her withdrew his hands with a grump and sat down beside her. "How'd you guess?" Harry said sarcastically from beside the blonde girl.
"So, what're you doing over here at the Slytherin table?" Buffy asked conversationally.
Harry gave a dashing grin. "Well, I saw a damsel in distress and took advantage of the situation. What's the problem?" he asked.
Buffy pulled a weary hand over her face. "Ugh, it's this book," she groaned. "The whole frigging page I want to read is in Italian. Can't read it," she said gloomily.
Harry shrugged and pulled the book closer to him. "Isn't that a pity." After a moment, he looked up. "Don't know why you'd want to anyway," he said.
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Well, it's really boring. 'The Ancient Vampire calls itself the Master…'"
Buffy's jaw dropped. She grabbed both his broad shoulders and turned him to face her directly. "You can understand Italian?" she asked incredulously.
Harry grinned. "Italian, Latin, Romany, Arabic, French, Gaelic and German," he said modestly. "Oh, and English."
Buffy pulled a face. "Why the hell would you know all those?" she asked, staring at him like he was crazy.
He shrugged. "Muggle family made me learn Italian, German and French. I had no choice. The others were a course I took last year."
"Whatever. Book freak," Buffy zinged.
Harry shook his head. "No. Apart from the languages, I'm not a book person at all. I like living life, not learning about it."
Buffy gave a small smile. "I think I know what you're getting at."
He picked up her hand and kissed it roguishly. "So, my lady, do you want me to translate?"
Buffy looked relieved. "I would love you to."
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A few hours later, Buffy was sitting in the library once again. Hse really liked her little corner. It was small, and the dècor reminded her of Sunnydale…without the friends who thought she was a murderess. Stupid Scoobies.
Presently, a dark haired man walked around the corner with a book under his arm. It was Harry, and he was looking quite pleased with himself for the task he had done. He sat down on a chair next to Buffy.
"Here you go. It's pretty weird," he said, looking a bit confused, really. "I still don't know why you'd want to read it."
Buffy just smiled gratefully and began to read. It was pretty long.
The Ancient Vampire calls itself the Master. He is from the Order of Aurelius, and is noted as being the first vampire ever to turn a witch1, several hundred years ago….
Buffy's brows raised. The Master turned a witch? Darla! They must be talking about Darla. Then it went on and on about a lot of stuff that Buffy already knew about him. She skimmed the page quickly for something she didn't know. She stopped when she found something.
The Master was hunted by a slayer last in 1865, by Angela Martignetti, an Italian girl. She is my Slayer. The Master defeated Angela by putting her in a coma, and leaving her for dead. He was opening the Hellmouth in the New World when he trapped himself by accident. Now, my Angela is fighting Veronique instead…
Buffy shook her head in wonder. This guy must have been a Watcher. She ignored all the stuff about Veronique, and skimmed to the bottom of the page.
Excerpt from the Diary of Peter Toscano, Watcher.
Then, she glanced at the footnote beneath. 1: This witch was also a slayer. She became very powerful indeed. There have only ever been two circumstances of a witch/slayer before. This is a very dangerous combination, as witch/slayers are unstable, with too much power. Both have been turned, and are still a major threat to people today. Together, they make up half of the Scourge of Europe.
Buffy gaped and pushed the book away from her. "What?" she screeched. Harry looked up, alarmed.
"Hey, relax," he said smoothly, putting a hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"
"Darla? A slayer? So that's what she meant!" she exclaimed in sudden realisation, thumping her hand on the table. She was shaking her head in disbelief.
Harry frowned in thought, and rubbed the back of his neck. "We studied slayers and watchers and all that in DADA last year," he said. "What are you talking about?"
Buffy ran a hand through her hair. "There's a painting in the Slytherin passageway of Darla. I've met Darla – vampire Darla, and I didn't know that she was a witch or a slayer."
Harry tilted his head to the side and glanced at her. "So you came here and discovered that she was a witch, huh?"
"Yeah. And she's been saying stuff like 'We're one in the same,' but I never knew what she meant."
Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Sure you did. You knew that she was a witch, as well…" Harry trailed off, looking at Buffy hard. Buffy felt herself going slightly pink.
"That's not what you're talking about, is it." It was more of a statement than a question. Buffy gulped.
"Um, no. Promise you won't tell anyone?" she asked desperately.
Harry nodded conspiratorially, and Buffy had just opened her mouth when there was a rustle from behind them.
"Won't tell what?" It was Platinum Prick again. Malfoy sauntered up and sat down at the table, on the other side of Buffy. Harry looked annoyed.
"Malfoy, why don't you just - "
" – it's okay, Harry. He already knows. Dumbledore told the teachers, Malfoy and Granger. But don't either of you tell anyone else." Buffy warned both men with a glare.
Harry nodded and urged her on, while Malfoy sat back and folded his arms behind his head.
"I'm…" she looked around nervously. "I'm a Slayer." Harry looked at her hard.
"I figured that out. When you said you weren't a witch. But why are you here, when you should be out fighting evil?"
Buffy coloured a deep crimson. "Ugh, well…um, I, er, you see…" she stammered, finding herself unable to form a proper sentence. She looked pleadingly to Malfoy for help.
He rolled his eyes and explained. "Summers is here because apparently she murdered her sister-slayer in cold blood," he said in a bored tone.
Harry sat back and regarded the blonde girl for a while. "Uh huh," he said.
Buffy slapped Malfoy hard upside the head. It really didn't have much of an effect, thanks to a certain tranquilliser. "I didn't do it! The Watchers' Council thinks I did, though, so they shipped me off to the Mother Country for rehab. I staked the vamp who killed her, though."
Harry looked at her, amusedly. "You're so little," he laughed. "No offence, but you don't look like a save-the-world type."
Buffy glared hard. "Tell that to Acathla," she muttered. Then, she shrugged. "That would be why Hermione doesn't like me," she said with a smile. "I'm a bad girl."
Harry rolled his eyes with a grin. Buffy was about to say something when she sat up ramrod straight and clapped a hand to her forehead. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "Dru must be the other witch/slayer!"
She sobered. "You know what this means?" she questioned, looking concerned. "I'm the third witch/slayer ever. And the Sorting Hat!" she said. "It told me that the last Slayer it sorted was in Slytherin as well! That must have been Drusilla!"
Buffy sat back in her chair, trying to digest all this new information. Witch/Slayers aren't stable…they are a dangerous combination….too much power….
Buffy began to feel light-headed. Malfoy frowned. "I think you need to get back to your room, ducks," he said. "You look a bit shocked still."
Harry nodded. "I'll have to agree with Ferret boy," he said seriously. "I promise, I won't tell anyone."
With that, the two boys lead her out of the library. They parted ways, and Malfoy took her back to the Slytherin rooms.
Buffy said the password to her room to the portrait of Drusilla, who was cackling maniacally. Buffy leaned in closer to the panting.
"What's up, Dru?" she said tiredly.
The vampiress giggled. "Said you were one of us," she sang softly in a told-you-so tone. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Whatever. Hey, where'd Darla go? I want to talk to her," Buffy inquired.
The brunette bit her bottom lip. "Daddy wants his princess. Daddy gets his princess."
Buffy made a face. "You're not talking about Angelus, are you?"
Drusilla didn't make any indication of hearing her. She swayed back and forth.
"Il Maestro ha sua figlia."
Buffy blinked. "In American, please?"
"The Master has his daughter. He brought Grandmother back." She began to dance and spin and twirl.
"We're going to be a family again!" she shrieked, and disappeared with a joyful scream.
There was a burst of purple light from the painting, and Buffy and Malfoy were thrown backwards. They hit the opposite wall. At this time, no one else was in the common room, so they were quite alone during this sequence of events. Buffy blinked, and got up slowly and painfully. She pulled herself over to the portrait where Drusilla had once been, and put her hand onto the surface.
Drusilla had gone, and in her place was the same mark that was on Darla's painting.
The Mark of the Apocalypse. The Mark of the Master.
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A/N
Hey everyone! Things are starting to pick up pace now, aren't they? Well, we've discovered a whole swag of new info, and I can finally say that my plot is heading in a direction that I like. I can't wait to write the next part!!! Kudos to all my reviewers. I got one really nice review and wrote like 6 pages because I was motivated. Imagine what 5 reviews can do! (hint hint) I love it when you guys try to guess where I'm going with this. Please review, or email me. Or, hey, add me on msn! I love talking about HP and Buffy. In case you've read it, there was reference here to "Immortal", a Buffy book by Christopher Golden and Nancy Holder. I recommend reading it. I'll update soon, if you review…: P
ReViEw!!