Harry cringed as Grindelwald's wand swished and flicked again.
"Crucio."
Hermione, already too hoarse to scream anymore, had to settle for expressing her anguish through rapid, grating breaths. On the floor next to Harry, sweat rolled down Ron's immobile red face as his eyes watched the dark wizard torture his girlfriend.
Ten seconds of dueling was all Grindelwald had needed to immobilize Harry. Then another minute to arrange his victims, and he had begun to alternate between Hermione and Ginny. When one of them seemed about to pass out, Grindelwald would switch to the other, the whole time chuckling quietly and acting like he hadn't had so much fun in years..
Rage burned behind Harry's eyes. Not that he could move or do anything about it.
Grindelwald watched him watch Hermione writhe. "Something you'd like to say to me, Harry?" With a flick of the wand, he freed Harry's mouth.
"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD! I'M GONNA RIP YOUR GODDAMN LUNGS OUT AND TEAR OFF YOUR BLOODY ARMS! I'LL…" Another flick cut him off.
"Yes, well, that sounds quite unpleasant. You'll forgive me if I skip that portion of the story? Excellent," he said when Harry couldn't answer. "Now, you must understand that this isn't anything personal, young man. In fact, I'm only supposed to kill the girls and be off, but that … that doesn't really appeal, you know? Why kill two when you could take another few minutes and kill four? No, I think it would be best if when I showed up at Tom's castle I had something more than that to show for his little resurrection gambit. So I suppose I'll kill all of you, though I don't know what his particular problem is with you." Grindelwald smiled. "The torture, well, that I just missed. It's delightful fun, isn't it?"
"Ethan Rayne!" Giles surged to his feet, his stomach turning over with sudden anxiety. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
"Now, now, Ripper old mate. I'm here on the side of the angels this time," Ethan said with a calming gesture."
Giles frowned, thinking that in their current predicament that gave no indication of what side he was on, though Ethan could not have known that. Could he?
Giles strode forward and grabbed Ethan by the collar of his maroon silk shirt, slamming his former friends into the stone wall.
"Be careful, Ripper. That's an expensive …" Another hard jerk into the wall shut Ethan up.
"Tell us why you're here." Giles' voice sounded like metal grating on stone.
"Rupert, would you care to explain?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled.
"This is Ethan Rayne, Albus. And he's not here for anything but trouble. Something's going on."
Dumbledore squinted, examining Ethan's aura. "Chaos. A worshipper, perhaps? "
"And quite a good one, if I do say so. It's a pleasure, Professor," Ethan said, his voice slightly muffled by Giles' pressure on his chest.
"Answer me," Giles growled. He hit Ethan hard in the jaw with his elbow. Dumbledore watched, the unsettled feeling in his gut mushrooming into full-blown concern.
"Now, now Ripper." Ethan spat a tooth out onto the carpet, accompanied by a glob of spit and blood. "In good time. First you guarantee my safety and free passage off of the grounds, and then I'll tell you everything you need to know."
Giles heaved Ethan into the side of one of the book stacks. The conjuror laughed as he slumped to the floor.
"How long have we known each other, Rupert? You always persist in beating me for information you could have for a tiny price. Look at the last time we got together – I know you had a jolly time drinking with me. Why can't we converse like the civilized blokes we are?"
Giles grabbed Ethan by the hair, yanking his face up to deliver a powerful kick to the jaw.
"As I recall, the last time we got together you poisoned me and transformed into a Fyarl demon."
"Well, yes, I suppose that was less pleasant for you. You, however, sent me to the penitentiary with some very unpleasant Americans, so I think the tab's been quite paid on that encounter, don't you? Can't we let bygones be bygones?"
Giles kicked him again; Ethan's forehead split open and began to bleed.
"Tell us, Ethan, before I get a bit more upset than you could bloody well stand. What are you doing here?"
"Enough of this." Dumbledore stood from behind the library table and drew his wand. Both Ethan and Giles could feel his rising fury, and Ethan suddenly understood why Voldemort was frightened of Dumbledore. "Verisio."
Ethan's eyes went wide as the magic washed over him.
"Now, Mister Rayne, tell us everything we need to know."
The spell forced Ethan to start speaking, and when he was done, Dumbledore could barely contain himself.
"All of the school's defenses are weakened or inactive, you say? And Grindelwald is here, now, in the Gryffindor common room?" Ethan nodded. "Stay with him, Rupert."
There was a soft pop, and Dumbledore vanished.
Cordy let fly with the crossbow bolt, hoping to knock Evil-Lyn's staff from her hand before she could think to use it. The bolt sailed across the courtyard and halted in mid-air. The staff was still two feet away, comfortably ensconced in her evil hand.
"Damn," Cordy muttered, hurrying to reload the crossbow.
"Foolish wench. Missile weapons cannot harm me. Can you say the same?" Evil-Lyn pointed her staff at Cordy, and the bolt spun in mid-air and took off. Angel reached up and snatched it out of the air inches from her chest.
"That wasn't very nice," he said, breaking the bolt in half. Pieces of wood and metal fluttered to the ground. "I've known a few wenches in my day, and I've got to tell you, Cordelia Chase is no wench."
"Now he complements me," Cordy said, still trying to load the second bolt. Wesley and Gunn came up beside them, and with Angel they advanced on the evil trio. Their broadswords gleamed wickedly in the moonlight.
"Let's show 'em how we do things downtown," Gunn said.
The three of them charged. Gunn's sword whipped down at Skeletor, who wrenched the Havok Staff from the ground and blocked the strike. Staff and sword clanged loudly as the two exchanged thwarted blows with one another. Next to them, Evil-Lyn trained her staff on Angel and Wesley. The two men stopped mid-stride, not wanting to give up a chance to dodge her incoming spell.
Neville saved them the trouble.
From his spot on the ground, the young Gryffindor swept her legs out from under her, sending her magical staff flying and dumping the sorceress unceremoniously to the dirt. He finished the move just in time to see Beast-Man above him. Razor-sharp claws gleamed in the moonlight. Neville gulped audibly as he reared back and ripped down.
Angel didn't let the blow connect; his flying tackle knocked the bear-sized creature from its feet. The two of them rolled across the ground as he sought to put some space between the creature and Neville and Dawn. Wesley, meanwhile, put his boot to Evil-Lyn's throat, pinning her down away from her staff.
"Not so fast, young lady," he said in his quietly fierce British voice. "I think we've had about enough of that, don't you?" She started to reach for the dagger concealed in her boot, but he pushed on her throat and she froze.
Beast-Man and Angel slapped short punches at one another, each trying to gain the advantage from a position without leverage. The creature had more raw power than the souled vampire, and Angel immediately wished he hadn't let it in so close. His speed advantage was totally negated as they tussled horizontally. Only the creature's mindless ferocity kept it from rending him limb from limb. Grabbing a furry shoulder in each hand, he held it as still as he could and unleashed a wicked head-butt to its hairy face. Beast-Man howled in pain, dropping Angel in favor of covering its injured face with massive paws.
"Liverpool kiss," Angel rasped as he crawled away. "Spike thinks he invented it, but we know who the master is around here, don't we, Rover?" The creature howled in response.
Off to the side, Skeletor brought the Havok Staff down on Gunn's wrist with a vicious chop. The street fighter cried out in pain, his sword falling from his injured hand. The purple goat head on top of the staff whipped around, catching him in the cheek and knocking him sprawling.
"How dare you assault the mighty Skeletor? I will flay the skin from your bones! You worthless wretch! I will cut your still-beating heart form your chest and dine on your warm blood! I will …"
The twang of uncoiling wire and the crack of the bolt punching through Skeletor's bony forehead cut the tirade off mid-sentence.
"You will find some plaster to plug that leak? Like I was only gonna fire one shot. Duh," Cordy said. She rolled her eyes dismissively as the muscular blue body sank to the courtyard. "Any luck finding that source of power yet, buddy?"
"My Lord!" Evil-Lyn shrieked, watching helplessly as Skeletor's body shrank and reverted to its plastic form, albeit with a tiny crossbow bolt now stuck in its forehead.
Wesley stomped downwards, and in seconds he was standing on a headless plastic figure.
Beast-man roared with anger, his animal fury powering his leap. Angel was ready for him, and as the giant creature lunged for him, he used his own supernatural speed to dodge. He ended up hanging from the creature's back, his arms around its furry neck. With a sharp twist and a loud snap, Angel turned it back into an action figure.
"Nice," Gunn said with an approving nod. He reached down and helped Neville to his feet. The Gryffindor immediately went to where Dawn was lying unconscious.
"Interesting." Wesley bent down and lifted the broken Evil-Lyn figure off of the ground. "They appear to have been fashioned from toys."
"Duh," Cordy said, reloading the crossbow as she walked. "I've spent like one minute for every hundred you've had your nose in a book, and I could've called that one, Wes. Tell us something we don't know." The ex-Watcher gave her a friendly glare and went back to studying the broken figure.
"We've got to get Dawn to the infirmary," Neville said. The slight girl was still unconscious, oblivious to him leaning over and feeling for her pulse or to his fingers running gently over the purpling area on her face. "She's alive, but she needs to see Madam Pomfrey. She took a nasty blow to the head before you arrived."
Angel bounded over and scooped her limp form into his arms. "Lead the way."
The first punch felt like the world imploding.
Tara's shield nearly crumbled right then and there. The raw power, something between magic and physical, was beyond anything Tara had ever known. If she was going to counter it, she needed to do the one thing she had held back from since the night she faced Voldemort.
She had to let it all hang out.
Ignoring the images of Jess and Willow and their black eyes that leapt into her memory, Tara called on all the power she had. The energy came in a dazzling rush, surging through her veins like fire. She could feel her eyes whiten as she pumped more and more energy into the shield. The angel threw another punch, harder this time. Tara responded with more power. Blood ran freely from her nose and mouth as her clenched teeth cut into her gums, but the shield held.
"Powerful little thing, aren't you? And so good and pure. I hardly ever see that anymore." He pulled his hand back from the barrier and waited. Tara readied herself again. His fist came down in a blur and hammered the shield a third time. What Tara felt, however, was the tiniest tap against her. Braced for a staggering impact, she overcompensated and stumbled forward a step.
Already off-balance from the stumble, the blow from his other hand knocked Tara backwards onto the couch. She was practically sitting on the unconscious Slayer, and she momentarily felt her connection to the spell break. For the first time, tiny cracks spider-webbed out through the shimmering wall from the point of impact. The shield was about to go, and Tara knew it.
No way would she let him get Buffy. No way.
Tara reached as deep into herself as she could, harnessing every last scrap of power she possessed. Her grip started to recede, and she could feel her own life, her own memories, everything that was her disappear into the power. Part of her desperately pleaded to maintain her grip, but she knew she had no choice. The new energy rushed into the spell; the cracks vanished as she floated up off the ground, tiny white lightning bolts erupting from her hands.
The angel raised his perfect eyebrows. "Nicely done. Living dangerously though, aren't we? Maybe treading on the edge of erasing ourself? I can feel it, girl. I don't think you want to head down that path."
"I d-don't care what you think," she said, her voice taking on an otherworldly cast. The stutter comforted her a little – she wasn't completely gone yet. The fight had to end soon, though, because she knew she couldn't last long with this much power inside of her.
He smiled coldly. "Very well. I just don't want you to be under the misconception that any human could draw enough power to stop me. Even if they did lose themselves in the magic."
Then he punched the wall again.
The cracks returned, and this time Tara had nothing left to give. He hit it one final time and his fist pierced the energy barrier completely. The force of the impact spun Tara out of the air and onto the couch, where she fell across the body of the motionless Slayer again. She tried to move, to reassert control over the spell, but this time she couldn't. She could barely breathe, and she felt the blood running freely over lips and down her chin.
"A noble effort, girl. Not enough to stop someone like me, but noble nonetheless."
A wet ripping sound cut him off. Tara looked up in time to see the steel tip of a broadsword pierce the angel's chest from behind.
"How 'bout that? Izzat enough, do ya think?" Spike said from the floor. Next to him, the open top of Buffy's handcrafted weapons chest rested against the living room wall.
The angel fell to his knees with a groan.
"MASTER!"
Recks appeared, seemingly from thin air, and flapped rapidly to his master's side. He hovered between the two Scoobies and the angel, eyes flashing angrily. Spike reached into the chest for an axe, but Recks saw him move. The tiny ball of fur spat a stream of greenish fluid onto hit Spike's hand. He jerked it back, the pain intense.
"Bloody hell! Acid!"
"You will pay for killing my master! You will …"
"Recks," the angel gasped. He had fallen to the ground, the sword now jutting prominently from beneath his neck, but the tip had no blood on it. "No demon can kill me, and surely not with metal." He rolled to his side to ease the pressure. "I live, but we must depart. Now."
Recks glared one last time at the two Scoobies. Then he and the angel and all of the cultists vanished. Spike dove for them, thinking they had simply become invisible, but all he grabbed was empty air. They were gone.
"Bloody hell," he repeated, sitting up from the floor and glancing at Tara and the still form of Buffy on the couch. "Blood-y hell."
Willow pointed to the other end of the hall, where Grey was about to be skewered by Darth Maul.
"Turn it off. Now."
"I-I … I can't …" Amy gasped, deathly afraid of what Willow might do to her.
"Don't lie to me, bitch!"
Magic pulled Amy away from the wall, then banged her back against it. Hard.
"No … Willow, please, I really can't."
Willow's blackened eyebrows scrunched together. Amy seemed too scared to be lying.
"Fine. I'll take care of it. But then you and me are gonna have a little chat that may or may not end up with you running on a hamster wheel again." Still holding Amy steady against the wall, Willow turned her attention to the battle at the other end of the hall.
Down the hall, Darth Maul loomed above Grey, his twisted smile dripping with anticipation of the kill. The former auror came up to one knee, glancing around for his lightsaber. He lashed out with a snap kick and knocked Darth Maul's blade free from his hand. Willow watched him do it, ready to cheer until the double-ended lightsaber halted in mid-air and flew back into Darth Maul's hand.
"Okay, that is in no way fair," Grey gasped, trying mightily to get his breath back after the fierce series of body blows he had taken from the shrapnel. Then he saw his lover watching them. "Will!"
The red blades extended from the Sith's lightsaber, and its horrific visage curled into a smile. With no warning, it sprang for Grey, the laser-like blades humming with energy. Grey rolled left, hoping to dodge under the strike and knowing he never could.
Willow wasn't about to let that happen.
Grey's lightsaber leapt into the air. He felt her plan in his mind as it did and he knew what to do. The steel and sapphire of the handle felt surprisingly cool as he caught it and thumbed the ignition.
The blue blade took Darth Maul just below the ribs and sliced all the way down through his crotch. The Sith lord sailed over Grey's head, and the smell of burning plastic filled the air. By the time he landed, Darth Maul was once again an action figure.
"Nice moves, Willow," Amy said. With Willow's concentration split, she had forced her way down from the wall. She sent a glob of blue energy at the redhead. Willow turned back just in time to get the electric shock of her life.
"Gah!" She shouted involuntarily as the electricity knocked her down. Tingly numbness overtook her whole body, as if it had suddenly fallen asleep. As he saw Willow fall, Grey sprinted down the hall towards the two witches.
"You really think I'm going to let you turn me back into a rat, you arrogant bitch? I think a little lesson of your own is in order. Let's call it … How To Use Your Power 101. See, like this." Amy blew her a kiss, and Willow's insides caught fire. She started to convulse, arching her back and clawing at the ground to escape the pain. "Another birthday gift. Just for you."
Amy felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to look and Grey's fist smashed into her jaw.
"We haven't met," Grey said, his voice burning with barely-repressed rage. The lightsaber waved menacingly between them, and he glared at her with deadly menace. "I'll be playing the part of the guy who stops you this evening."
She reached up and wiped a trickle of blood from her chin. Then she giggled.
"Let her up or I'll start carving."
"Oooh, scary Jedi." Amy's giggle became a throaty laugh. "Please. I can't even smell magic on you. What can you do to me?"
She didn't let him answer. Two missiles of pure black energy shot from her eyes, aimed at straight at Grey.
Grey moved so quickly that he didn't even hear what Willow's voice said in his head. A step to the left took him out of the line of fire, and flick of his wrists sent the black bolts right back into Amy's chest. The jolt of magical power flipped her over backwards and sent her sprawling, leaving only the smell of charred flesh in its wake. It also broke her concentration and ended the spell holding Willow.
Willow rose into the air and righted herself, an otherworldly hatred twisting her pale features. Her power surged forward, running so wild that tiny black lightning bolts popped and crackled around her hands.
"That was a really, really, REALLY big mistake," she snarled. "A-plus for your idea, though – I think the next lesson should also be of the painy variety. Like this."
The force from Willow's spell knocked Grey to the ground before he could see the results of her handiwork. The flash blinded him. He could still hear, but the only things he heard were the liquid sound of flesh ripping and the unearthly wail of Amy screaming.
"Well, now, the young ladies were quite fun to play with, but I think it's time to see what you gentlemen have to offer," Grindelwald said, brushing a strand of oily hair out of his face. Harry and Ron stared up from the floor with wide eyes as he stepped closer.
CRACK!
The dark wizard spun around, his wand following the sound. Behind him, Albus Dumbledore wore the most fierce glare Harry had ever seen. The room vibrated with his power.
"Hello, Albus. It's been quite a long time.
"You should not be here, Augustan." The sight of a half-century dead villain gave Dumbledore only the slightest pause. Ethan had been forthcoming after the truth spell had forced the information out of him. "Put your wand on the ground. Now."
"I've just been meeting some of your students," Grindelwald said, ignoring Dumbledore's warning, "and I have to say, they are quite extraordinary. Not one willing to beg for their lives. Outstanding, really."
Dumbledore looked past him, saw the four students lying on the floor, and didn't hesitate.
"Windrego."
Grindelwald soared into the air and smashed through the brick wall next to the common room door.
Dumbledore swished and flicked, freeing all four Gryffindors. Harry sprang to his feet; Ron rolled over and clutched the two girls to his chest. Hermione and Ginny remained mostly still, their eyes glassy and bodies trembling.
Harry sprinted for the broken wall, diving through the opening and coming up in a combat crouch with Dumbledore two steps behind, both of them ready to attack.
But when they scanned the hallway, the dark wizard was nowhere to be seen.
