(a/n: This chapter is a re-post, and you can ignore my notes from the next chapter. I am fixing the mistake regarding the howler. I apologize and thank every one of you for bringing this to my attention.)
Chapter 1 of Unexpected Losses
It was absurdly easy to pack up her life in three measly days. The thought, however true, was extremely unsettling for Willow. It had helped that Buffy, Xander, and Oz were just as angry as she was about her sudden departure. Buffy had insisted on the pair taking a shopping trip. Buying things was Buffy's main alleviation of depression. She'd bought Willow nearly an entirely new wardrobe, insisting that Willow would want more clothes. The style was almost purely Willow, but with enough Buffy mixed in that the redhead was sure to be confused by her sheer number of accessories.
These clothes she packed straight from the bag. She wasn't able to pack everything she owned. Considering the fact that the last of her four suitcases was filled only with her magic-working supplies and frameless photos, it was a miracle she didn't need more bags.
Oz and Willow had spend what Willow declared as "day two" together. His last wolf-day had been "day one" (shopping and packing day) and so there was no reason to cut their time short. Oz had spent hours just playing idly for her on his guitar, making up songs as he went. At Willow's insisted cheerleading, he attempted an E-flat diminished ninth. Granted, he'd failed miserably, but Willow got a vague idea on what it was and applauded anyway. As the day wore on, they both became slightly uncomfortable. Nighttime fully in sway, Oz drove Willow back to her house where Xander was staying. With a kiss goodbye, he turned away, pausing slightly before he started his van and headed towards Devon's where he was staying.
Xander had claimed "day three," insisting on spending what would be Willow's last day in Sunnydale with her. He woke her at midnight, jumping onto her bed, causing her to wake suddenly, awareness flooding into her.
"C'mon, Will. It's day three! Can't waste time." He grinned, and sat at the foot of her bed, still bouncing. Willow, now fully awake and completely unable to fall back asleep sat up, raking her fingers through her hair. She shot him a dark glare, but her anger was softened by sadness. Xander opened his arms in a silent offering, and she hugged him in turn, desperate not to cry anymore. She'd done enough of that already.
"Can it be day one again?" She answered. "I don't want to go tomorrow."
"I don't want you to either, Will, but according to lawyer-guy we don't have much of a choice." He answered, loosening his hold on her, but not moving away. "Did he tell you anything else about this Petunia-lady?"
"A little bit." Willow admitted, turning to turn on a lamp and meeting his eyes. "I did a little research, too." She added, taking her laptop from her dresser rubbing the top of it fondly. Xander grinned at her confession of "research," which would be more commonly referred to as "hacking." She tried and failed to suppress an eye roll at his apparent source of humor in her research. "She's a housewife. Her husband owns a drilling company of some sort Gunnings or Grunnings.. They have a son, he's about my age. Name of Dudley Dursley."
Xander couldn't contain a snort of laughter at that. "Sputtering" may have been a better choice of a word. It took more than a minute before he could breathe again, and even Willow had good humor shining in her eyes. "Shh!" She finally managed, a faint giggle in her shushing. Xander finally reigned control over himself, and coaxed a "go on" look. "There's another boy living there, according to their papers. He's about my age, as well. His name is Harry. Harry Potter. He goes to some kind of boarding school. He's Petunia's nephew."
"So…are you cousins?" Xander asked curiously. He'd met many of Willow's relatives over the years, but he didn't remember anyone from England, nor with those names.
"That's what I assumed, too, and that maybe my mother and she had some sort of falling out, but no." Willow answered with a half-shrug. "There's no blood relationship between us. I've done some research to see if my mom's been in Surrey lately, and she's been there several times in the past few years. Usually she stopped by in-between her conferences.
"I guess that they're just close friends. I've never met her, or at least I don't remember. I suppose that I did when I was a baby. I haven't looked into it, but I think she'd have to be there to legally become my godmother."
"I think that you've done quite enough research for the past little while. So, you are planning on moving back, right?" Xander answered, surprising Willow with his choice of topic. Being Xander, he wasn't always one to look towards the future. His choice of interest usually ran with the moment. "I mean, after you turn eighteen, you want to come back home, right?"
Willow paused. She hadn't really been thinking of what she would do when she had a choice. She'd been too busy dreading the change to come. "I…I guess so. I honestly hadn't considered it. I don't want to go…I assume that given the chance I'd come home. But where would I go?" She seemed to be asking herself just as much as she was Xander. "I can't afford to keep making payments on the house, seeing as how I'm jobless and how no one's going to be living there. I suppose if I don't use much of my money I'll be able to rent an apartment for a little while at least…"
"We'll be able to work something out, Will. We've always been able to do it before. You can't stay away for good, though. Hey! Maybe I'll be able to come and visit you!" Xander seemed to be energized by the thought. "It'd be cool to go visit the land of the Giles! And hey! Tweed!"
Willow grinned at the thought of hundreds upon thousands of Gileses wandering about in place of everyone who actually lived there. All of them wearing tweed and polishing their glasses at random intervals and making odd clucking noises in the back of their throats. Suddenly, she was overcome with a case of the giggles, and was unable to think of anything that didn't make it worse.
Within a few minutes, tears of laughter slid down her cheeks, and the was holding onto Xander like a lifeline, unable to stay upright without the assistance. Xander just tried to suppress laughter of his own at the look on Willow's face. He wasn't sure exactly about what she was laughing so hard about, but for some reason Willow's happiness was contagious.
"So, what do you want to do today, Cap'n?" He asked her, with a mock salute, when they'd calmed.
"My last day in Sunnydale…" Willow muttered. "I don't know. We should Bronze it, tonight. And I guess both mini-golf and tennis are out of the question." She offered a fond smile at the inside joke the trio had shared. "I think sleep would be nice, too, but I'm assuming that you're not going to let me have much of that, are you?"
"Of course not! Sleep is for the weak! We should stop by the Espresso Pump, too. I don't know what else." Xander admitted, shrugging slightly. "I still can't believe that you're going away. What am I gonna do without you here? Who's gonna tutor me?!" He was joking, but Willow shrugged slightly. "Thank god for e-mail. It's not like we won't be talking to one another every day or anything, right?"
"I can't do this, Xander. I can't leave Sunnydale. It's all I know." Willow whispered, and was surprised when Xander picked her up and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her tightly.
"Yes, you can, Will. If anyone on the planet can just up and leave and be okay, it's you." He replied firmly, with a belief that Willow didn't know he possessed. "You're gonna board that plane, watch the movie, eat the peanuts, and be annoyed by they overly-happy flight attendants. You're gonna go and live in Surry with your godmother and other people. They're not gonna believe that you're American, 'cause you're so smart.
"You'll go to school and beat event their smartest kids. You'll wow 'em all, and I'm gonna sit here knowing that you were gonna succeed all along. And you know what, Will? You're gonna do good. You'll come back with a Giles accent and nothing will have changed. I'm still going to be the mega-stud that I am now, I'll probably still be stuck with Cordy. Oz'll still be trying to play more than three cords and still be in a band and wolfing out once a month. Buffy will still kill lots of things, and Giles is still going to like books more than computers."
"That was a lovely speech." Came a new voice, cold and ruthless. One that neither had heard before. Xander slid Willow off of his lap and stood protectively in front of her in a single smooth movement. "And I really am quite sorry to interrupt. So, if you'd please get out of my way…" The stranger was garbed in robes the likes of which neither Willow nor Xander had seen before.
He wore a black mask that had horizontal slits which black eyes peered from. Angry, black eyes.
Xander, of course, didn't move. This seemed to anger the stranger again. "Get out of the way, boy." The voice beneath the mask was not muffled, and he drew what appeared to be a stick in his defense. Had the situation not been so frightening, Xander would have laughed at the piece of dark wood.
"Really don't see that happening." He answered instead, suddenly wishing he wasn't still wearing his pajamas, he felt slightly defenseless in the striped long-pant and -sleeved ensemble. Shoeless, too, so though running was a possibility, it would be harder. Especially noting as how the door was blocked, leaving jumping off the balcony was their only other choice.
"Stupefy." He muttered. Xander ducked the blur of blue light that passed exactly where his chest had been, leaving a black burnt spot on Willow's previously unmarred wall.
Xander looked at the wall for several moments, slightly paler than he'd been a moment before. Willow caught his eye, and shifted them towards her bedside dresser. Xander, moving faster than he ever had before in his life, opened the drawer, and pulled out a stake.
It must've been there at Buffy's insistence, but Xander was glad for it. He picked it up, and with a slightly maniacal grin, he rushed at the stranger with speed he didn't know he possessed., managing to bury the wood a good three inches into his chest.
"Bloody hell." The man gasped deeply, before disappearing with a pop.
"So…the attacker wanted you, Willow?" Giles asked, rubbing his glasses, apparently puzzled.
"We think so. He wanted Xander to move, and he was standing in front of me. It's just an assumption. I don't have much in the way of valuables in my room. He'd have been better off downstairs, that's where most everything is." Willow answered, feeling comforted with Oz's arm draped over her shoulders and Buffy sitting on her other side.
"I'm just glad you kept the stake in your room." Buffy answered with a slight smile. "Can't believe Xan staked someone, though."
"Me neither, but if it was him or Will, there's not much of a competition, is there? I don't think I killed him or anything, but I was just trying to get him away, you know? If he was a vamp, though, I think he'd be dust. I think he was from England, though. He had the accent, and apparently the slang." Xander replied, sitting on the steps in front of the other three teens and next to Cordelia.
The brunette finally admitted that she was 'probably' going to miss Willow, and had a comforting hand on the redhead's knee. Xander smiled brightly at her at her apparent comforting of his best friend. Somehow, Cordelia felt a little bit rewarded for her act. "Is that so?" Giles asked, interested in the new twist.
"He definitely was of the 'bloody hell' variety." Willow answered, wrapping her arms around herself, as if she was cold. "And he wore this spooky mask thing. Very creepy."
"And what was that weird word he said. He had a stick--"
"Magic wand." Willow interjected. "And he said…I'm sorry, but I think it was 'Stupid-fy.'" She tried not to giggle. "My wall is completely ruined. A blue light came out of his wand and it hit the wall. Looks more like a fireball hit it, you know? With the burn marks, n' stuff."
"Odd," Giles commented. "Very odd. Willow, do you think it might have been 'Stupefy?' Giles questioned.
"That sounds about right." She answered. "Do you know what it means?"
"It's a spell." He answered, and took a seat at the head of the table closest to the stairs. "But I don't understand why a wizard would want to attack you, Willow."
"What kind of spell? And what kind of magic uses wands?" Willow questioned. "A wizard? Is that warlock? I've never heard of anything like that outside of stories. And what, exactly, does 'stupefy' do?"
"You must understand, Willow, you are a practicing Wiccan, but the magic you use is not the only kind known to man. The magic you use is powers imbued to you from the earth itself. The power you hold connects you to the planet. The warlock is a male Wicca-practitioner. There is another type of magic. This other magic is actually from the persons themselves.
"There is a hidden world of people with this type of magic. These are called witches and wizards. They have their own schools, governments, and morals and values. They generally, though, avoid Hellmouths, especially active ones. Their governments do not hold sway here. I don't have any connections with the American Ministry, but I have met of some of the England officials. The Ministries and the Council do not correspond, though." Giles explained, sharing a significant look with Buffy.
"Why didn't you tell us about anything like this before?" Willow was the one to ask, surprisingly, and not Buffy. "And wouldn't having only access to the power within themselves weaken them considerably? How much power can one control? And why don't the Council and these Ministries work together? Couldn't that help the Slayer…not that you need it Buffy."
"Well, to tackle the easy question, the Ministry and the Council do not collaborate because the Slayer is, by definition, a Muggle. Or non-magic bearer. They say it is not their business." Giles answered. "And Willow, though they can only channel the power in themselves, they're generally stronger than Wiccans."
"Why?" Willow pressed.
"Because practitioners of Wicca aren't usually capable of handling the energies of the earth. The power will usually consume them before they are able to manage it." Giles answered. "That's why I've been so carefully monitoring your progress."
"You think I can't handle it?" Willow asked, an almost hurt look flashing in her eyes. "I can't keep control?"
"Actually, that is quite the opposite of what I think." Giles spoke with a sharp edge on his voice. Willow drew back, feeling slightly ashamed at her outburst. "Of the Wiccans I've met, you are among the strongest. You've had no trouble. There is yet to be spell you haven't managed, after a fashion. And you have not lost an edge of your restraint. But it is usually the most powerful, the ones with the most attachment to the magic, that loses their ability to control it. I am not willing to risk your safety for it. If you were to lose your--"
He stopped speaking mid-sentence, obviously having been struck by a thought. "Infusing a soul into a vampire is magic unlike that seen on this planet for hundreds of years. There has not been anything like it. That explains it."
"Explains what, G-man?" Xander spoke, with only a trace of his usual light mood.
"Don't call me that." Giles answered, obviously completely distracted. "I know why that wizard was after Willow. Someone must have felt it. The magic that Willow possessed when she gave Angel his soul is unlike anything that anyone on this planet had ever seen. It involved an unbelievable degree of power. It could only have been the earth's energies. Willow, you of all people would recognize the feel of your magic, for lack of better word…
"Someone must want control of that power. Imagine, Willow, if you lost yourself in that magic. You, of course, could still control it, but you wouldn't still be Willow. No judgment of right and wrong. No morals to speak of. Given enough training and reason…you could cause irreversible damage. Whoever it was that felt your power obviously thought of that and wants to use that power for some aim.
"Gathering their approach to you, it wasn't something very honorable." During this entire speech, Giles seemed to be thinking to himself more than speaking to the Scoobies, who not only recognized this, but took it upon themselves to start a small discussion amongst themselves. "It is for the best, I'd wager, that Willow is leaving so quickly. There's probably not much of a chance that they'll be able to track her there."
"You think it's good that Willow is going away when some guy is chasing her? Sure, she won't be easy to find, but I won't be able to protect her there." Buffy asked, surprised. "Sure, another country and stuff, but who's to say that this wizard-guy wasn't from the Ministry over there? It could be easier to find her there!"
"Unfortunately, that is a risk. But I'm almost positive that whoever paid Willow that visit wasn't from the Ministry. The years I had with contact to them didn't give me the lowest opinion of them, but the new Minister is quite overly pompous. I fear, that if it were the ministry, they would not have attacked you, but arrested you instead." Giles answered. "If the Ministry finds that someone is after Willow, they may just try to protect her."
"Try?" Buffy questioned, in turn. "I don't want them to try to protect her. They will or I will." Buffy crossed her arms, a dangerous look flashing in her eyes.
"Certainly I'll try to talk to them. I'm not sure whether or not my call will matter, but I will try."
"You're the Slayer's Watcher. I'm sure that you hold some kind of influence. I mean, at least you know these people. Not all the watchers can say that, can they?" Buffy answered. His answer shocked her.
"That won't matter, Buffy. If anything, my opinion will be worth less than any other watcher. They consider me the worst of the lot, because I also am a wizard." Giles confessed. "When I was eleven I was accepted into a school called Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was expelled during my seventh year because of a group of my friends and myself called upon and raised Eyghon. While Rayne's wand was snapped, the headmaster of the school simply confiscated my own. After I graduated the watcher's school and gained a significantly different opinion of the world, he returned it to me. I have not used it since."
"So, you can use this magic?" Willow asked. "Can you teach me?"
"No, this magic can only be used by those born with it. And even if I could, I can't. You still have to leave tomorrow morning. There is still nothing we can do about that. While I don't like the thought of you unprotected, I still have no legal powers to keep you here."
Cordelia, unexpectedly, was the one to sum up the entire affair for the group. "Well, crap!"
Meanwhile, half-way around the world, Petunia Dursley was sitting in her spotless kitchen, holding a cup of tea in shaking hands, and trying not to cry. She'd just received a phone call informing her that her best friend had died. She and Sheila Rosenburg had been friends since they were children. Maids-of-honor at each others weddings. Godmothers of each other's children. They were extremely close. And now Petunia Dursley was alone again.
Though she wasn't fond of her sister, it had still been a blow when she'd been killed. Having no choice in raising her sister's son made her bitter. And now she'd be bestowed with yet another child. This one not even a year older than her own Dudley. A seventeen-year-old girl. Willow. Vernon was not going to like that. And worst of all, though she'd never tell the child, was that she was arriving the next day. Petunia was unsure on what to do.
She would, of course, be given the second bedroom, but where Harry would be placed, she couldn't tell. She knew Vernon was too frightened to keep him in the cupboard again, but there was no way she'd let the little monster stay with her best friend's child. No telling what he'd do! But nor did she want him with her only son. He was only in his sixth year at Hogwarts, and so she knew that he would still have another year.
He had to stay at the Dursley's residence until he graduated. Petunia understood that. Not only would the neighbors talk, not that they didn't anyway, but the Howler she'd received when Harry was fifteen. She knew the voice. It was from that man, the one who'd dropped her nephew on her doorstep. A letter explaining that he was safer with them, somehow. Why this was the safest place for him, she couldn't understand. Vernon certainly wouldn't even bother trying to keep the boy protected, and what could any of them do against magic? If only they'd keep the brat at the school all the time. It was obviously safe enough there.
Petunia took a sip of her tea and visibly calmed. Things were in an uproar, but there were things to do. She had to make the second bedroom hospitable, and the house could do with a good scrubbing. She needed to begin cooking dinner. Vernon's favorite tonight. She had yet to inform him that on the next day…they were going to be graced with a third child.
Petunia had a headache.
(a/n: that's all for today. Yay I updated! Hope you liked it. We get to see Harry in the next chapter, and he receives some bad news from home! Willow meets the Dursleys and more stuff happens! R&R!)