"My lord, you know that I would never question you…"

          Red eyes burned in the gloomy shadows. "But you have a question for me, Wormtail?"

          "I-I do. It is just … this ritual … the danger is great, and …"

          "And you don't feel the reward will be, is that it?"

          Pettigrew answered with a tiny shake of the head, all the while staring at his feet. An ominous chuckle burbled from Voldemort's unsmiling mouth.

          "Do not worry, Wormtail. As you shall see, this would be worth twice the risk. I have trafficked with his kind before. Do you know what they suffer most from?"

          "No, master."

          His mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile. "Boredom. They have an eternity in that place, and nothing to do. So when offered a challenge, they certainly extract a price, but they do it for the enjoyment more than anything else."

          "B-but the price …" Pettigrew gestured with his silver hand to the five Death Eaters slowly bleeding to death on the lawn. Each had been staked to the ground and carved from the soles of their feet to the joints of the shoulder with ritual symbols. Their eyes had been removed and their voices magically dampened to prevent any untoward screaming.

          "They went willingly. For the greater good, of course. And they are not the price I speak of." The irony brought a small grin from Pettigrew's frightened features. "You would do well to worry less, Wormtail. Undue stress is unhealthy for a man of your bulk. Come now, let's go. Our guest will be here any moment."

          The two of them, ominous in their dark robes, walked slowly forward across the front lawn of Voldemort's castle. Fifteen Death Eaters chanted at the points of a pentagram drawn in the blood of their sacrificed companions. The oily vapor of dark magic had settled heavily over the gathering, and Voldemort knew it wouldn't be long.

          Even as he thought it, a shape began to form over the center of the star. For several agonizing minutes a smoky blot wavered in and out of existence, finally resolving itself into the rough shape of a man. Thirty seconds later, Voldemort strode into the circle and greeted it.

          "Hello, my friend. Good of you to come." Pettigrew noticed that his master's tones were as silky and pleasing as he had ever heard. This creature must have power.

          "Yes, it has been a good long while, hasn't it?" The voice came from the center of the smoke, its sound as immaterial as its body. "Our prior bargain has not expired for you, as of yet. Why have you called me?"

          "I have something to offer in addition, something I think you might enjoy." Their voices dropped as the conversation continued, and Pettigrew could hear no more. Awed, he watched with the rest of the Death Eaters as Voldemort bargained as an equal with their guest. How this bargain fit into Voldemort's plans for revenge on Potter, Dumbledore, and their group, he had no idea. But it certainly did; "the biggest guns for the hardest target," Voldemort had told him in the midst of his research. Research that in the end, Pettigrew knew, had brought him to one of the demons that had aided his quest for immortality.

After several minutes, a pleased expression crossed Voldemort's face and he bowed his head in a half-nod. The man-shaped smoke did the same. Voldemort then stepped back and deliberately rubbed a hole in the marked pentagram.

          Pettigrew couldn't tell for sure, but he swore he felt the smoke man smile as it stepped beyond the binding area and vanished.

          "That went well," Voldemort said, striding back to take his place. "Now, Wormtail, you must come with me. We need to finish the preparations for the arrival of the Zombie Master."

          "But … but my lord," Pettigrew stuttered, "it escaped."

          "Not it, you odious fool, he. And he did not escape. He accepted my bargain, and I let him depart."

          "Wh-what…" Pettigrew trailed off, remembering his place.

          "What did I offer him?" Voldemort chuckled, the sound of tires skidding on gravel. "Why, what everyone wants: the chance to fall in love."

          "They said they were meeting us here, right?" Willow asked Buffy, her voice mildly alarmed.

          "What?" The band, some sort of combination rock/jazz trio that neither of them had ever heard called Make Me Pancakes, wailed away loudly on stage.

          "Xander and Grey," Willow shouted into her ear. "Said they'd be here, right?"

          "Uh huh. Not for twenty more minutes, though."

          Willow nodded, barely hearing her. Off to her right, Tara and Jess finally made it by the bouncer and wended their way to the table.

          "Hey!"

          "Hey Will!" Tara hugged the redhead, then the Slayer. "Hey, Buffy!"

          "Willow, Buffy," Jess said with a nod, smiling at them. Her stomach twisted slightly, as it always did around Willow these days. Jess constantly feared that Willow knew the extent of the torch she still carried for Grey. She hoped not; their visits had been brief. It would be hard to conceal when they moved back to Hogwarts, though. Damned if you don't have something to hide, she thought disgustedly, you selfish bitch.

          "So do you think we're ready to give it a shot?" Willow asked Jess once they were seated.

          "What? Hold on." Jess' wand came out from her purse. "Deliquo," she said, giving an abbreviated swish and flick before stashing it away again. "Sorry, hon. Could you repeat that?"

          Willow could suddenly hear her perfectly, even over the music.

          "Whoa. What'd you do?"

          "Nothin' big. Just so we can hear each other without all the shouting."

          "Cool!" Buffy said. "And now that we have this fun and effective conversation tool, I'm gonna leave and get a drink. You guys want?"

          "Coffee, please," Jess said.

          "Tea for me." Tara looked at Jess and Willow, then stood back up. "I'll help carry. Will? Want anything?"

          "Coke, please." She smiled at Tara, who smiled back, then left with Buffy.

          Willow watched Jess watch Tara walk away, catching a strange look in the girl's eye. "Jess?"

          "Yeah?"

          "Can I … do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

          Here it comes, Jess thought, trying to quickly decide how she would lie about Grey. "A'course. What?"

          "You and … are you and Tara … Y'know, is there a you and Tara?"

          "Huh?" Jess blinked in confusion.

          "Sorry! Sorry! None of my business! Just the way you were looking at her I thought, y'know, maybe?" 'Cuz I so wish Tara had someone, Willow thought to herself, and that was a more than friendly look.

          "Oh. Oh! You mean … me an' blondie?" Jess smiled. "Just friends, Willow. Just friends. Honest."

          "Oh, okay. I hope I didn't …"

          "Not offended. Flattered, actually, that you thought Tara might want someone like me." Guess she isn't suspicious. Jess breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Yeah, she's pretty great." Willow unconsciously bit her fingernails. "Listen, is she happy these days? I can't really tell in the letters or on the phone."

          "I think so. She's a little, what is it you lot say … wigged, that's it. She's wigged about her magic, but not too bad. She's adjusting to the thought that she's got more power than she used to."

          "Does Professor Dumbledore know anything else about the white-eye thing?"

          "Nope. Giles has been diggin' into it all summer, too, but nothing yet from anyone. Never heard of it before, myself."

          "Uh uh," Willow agreed. "We'll figure it out." She shifted gears. "Anyway, back to what I wanted to say before we made with the sidetrack. Are WE ready?"

          "I think so. Dumbledore agreed with the one you chose. He felt it would be our best shot at success."

          "Did you talk to Grey's parents?"

          "I did. Thought his mom might feed me to the Yorky when she saw me, but she ended up talkin' her husband into it. We're set for two weeks from tonight, at their flat in London."

          "So I have all these thoughts about this, right, but I had one last week that I thought might be a keeper. What if we used Buffy, too?"

          "She doesn't have magic, right?"

          "No. We'd have to … I'd have to draw her piece out of her."

          "That's dangerous. Really dangerous."

          "That's what Will told me," Buffy broke in, trying to put Willow's Coke and her latte on the table and squeeze in to sit at the same time. Slayer reflexes were the only thing that prevented a coffee stain from setting up shop on her light blue sundress. "But it'll make a big difference, right?"

          "Thanks," Willow said, taking the Coke. Jess mulled Willow's suggestion over in silence.

          "Yeah. It could be a big difference. I don't know that anyone's ever used a Slayer as a part of this before."

          "But you could."

          "I think so, Willow. It'll be delicate, though. Are you sure you're up for it?"

          "Up for what? Something naughty?" Xander and Grey came up behind the girls; Xander's hair was still wet from the shower.

          "Oh! Oh! Xander! And-and Grey," Willow said, shaking her head. "N-no. Course not. Just …" Willow didn't want to spoil the surprise, and Grey was right there, so she equivocated. Badly. "Y'know, talking about trying to-to dance. To this band. 'Cuz their, y'know, different … and … stuff."

          Grey gave her a half-smile, half-smirk. "So is that a 'Yes, Grey, ask me to dance now?' or a 'Let me finish my Coke and try get out of telling you what we were really talking about' kind of stuff?"

          The whole table burst out laughing as Willow blushed. "Dancing. Because leaving and … dancing … would be of the good now."

          He held out his hand for hers. "Then shall we?" She took it and they walked to the dance floor together.

          Buffy and Tara both saw the pain written on Jess' face as she watched the retreating couple. Buffy gave Xander a suggestive look and tried to inconspicuously nod at Jess.

          "Buff? Your seizure medication not working? I had the same problem earlier, it was kinda funny actually," Xander began, stopping when Buffy's eyes narrowed.

          Jess shook her head, the amusement breaking her reverie. She mentally cursed herself for being so damn obvious. "Nice subtlety, Buffy." She turned to Xander, making a big show of looking him over. "She wants you to ask me to dance because she thinks I'm upset. I'm fine," she said to Buffy, "but I'd love a dance. How 'bout it?"

          "Uh … okay?" She took his hand and led the bewildered young man out to the dance floor.

          "Is it me," Buffy said when they had gone, "or does that girl move in and out of moods faster than a speeding bullet?

          "Yeah," Tara acknowledged. She watched Xander break out his array of funky moves and Jess start to laugh at him. "I have trouble following it sometimes."

          "Like now?"

          "Like now. She's r-really nice, b-but … Willow and Grey … it's really hard for her."

          "I can understand that. Do you think that she's, y'know, dangerous?"

          Tara shook her head. "She's actually really gentle, e-even though she's really e-emotional, so it may not seem like it. She's on our side," Tara added seriously, "for sure. She's just m-m-more fragile than she wants to admit right now, and it messes with her h-head."

          "You really like her, huh?" Tara's eyes went wide. "Oh god, Tara, I'm sorry, I know it's none of my business."

          "I … uh …"

          "Look, don't say anything that you don't want to. If you want to talk, though, I'm around. I mean, I kind of think of us as friends, and I'd like you to think I was."

          "I-I-I do, B-Buffy." She paused, forcing down her stutter. "Honestly, I d-don't know what I feel for her. Or if it matters. But if I need to talk, I'll c-come to you, okay?"

          Buffy smiled. "I'd like that."

          Out on the dance floor, a slow song came on, its melody a haunting blend of guitar and saxophone, and Jess started to walk away. Xander put a hand on her shoulder.

          "You don't have to go."

          "It's okay, Xander. It was nice of you to dance with me, seein' as how we don't know each other at all. You don't have to do this, too."

          "Are you gonna stare all moony-eyed at Willow and Grey? Because I'm thinking that's not the better option here. Okay, yeah, not the world's greatest dancer…"

          "Which I now know."

          "Which you now know," he agreed, "but is dancing with me worse than that?" She pretended to get lost in thought. "Hey!"

          "Jus' kidding, hon," she said with a smile, turning back and taking his left hand in her right. Her other hand went behind his back, and his wrapped around her as they swayed to the music. "Thanks, though. Didn't realize I was so obvious in my brooding."

          "Well, you sort of are, but it's cool. I understand. Losing something like that is really hard."

          She cocked her head, trying to find an angle that made it easy to talk when they were so close. "Been there?"

          "Yeah. Got all the way to the altar, actually, before it blew up."

          "Whoa. What happened, if ya don't mind my asking?"

          "It's okay. Her side and my side sort of had a fight."

          "Drunken yelling? Had that at my cousin Dora's funeral. Her side had too much whiskey, and the groom's had too much beer and wine. It was ugly."

          "More of a demon-human brawl, actually. Broken chairs, goring horns, that kind of thing."

Jess laughed before realizing he was serious. "What? Are you bleedin' kidding me?"

          "Yup. They were cleaning Larthos blood out of the carpet for weeks. There were some ugly visions involved, too … it's a long story."

          "But … demons? Why?"

          "My fiancee … well, before she opted for a more human career path, that of a small town shopkeeper, she was involved in the wild world of vengeance wishes. Hence, her friends and family have those special extra-human touches."

          "That's … different."

          "If by different you mean insane, than yes, I believe it qualifies as different. But she's a good person. I always kinda half-hoped we could fix it. That's how good I think she is," he said wistfully. Then he thought he saw … Oh no. Not gonna help.

          "Well, that's something."

          "I always thought so. And it's a good thing she's out of the vengeance gig." He let go of Jess, staring out towards the entrance.

          "Why's that?" Jess turned to follow his stare.

          "Because she's standing over there, watching us dance, and from the look on her face, I'd say she's not happy about it."