(a/n: Don't hate me: I've been uber busy and thus slightly neglectful of my computer. I still love it, though, and I'm so grateful to everyone for their comments. Thanks especially to Christar, for all your advice and help. I do hope that you enjoy what I've done. I'm not going back to edit, because that's an action that bites me in the ass every time. Well, then. Over one hundred and fifty reviews. Happy dance. Enjoy, all.

Dedication: This is dedicated to Pixie of Chaos, for your birthday. You're old now! Like me! We're old! Yay! Now, let's get a beer….wait…three more bloody years. mumbles Oh, and all to the song "Strangers Like Me" from Tarzan. I can't get enough!!!!)

Chapter Seven of Unexpected Losses

Harry paused at her question, unsure whether or not to answer honestly. Possibilities flashed in his mind. The e-mail may have been in some kind of code. She could be playing some sort of trick on him. The thought that she was some kind of spy from the ministry flashed quickly in his mind before Harry decided to halt all of these thoughts altogether. It was getting ridiculous.

Deciding to lie for now, until he was able to work out the truth about his new roommate, he turned to face her completely. A penetrating stare met his own, and he had to pause. Willow sat on her bed, her feet tucked underneath her. She held her closed laptop protectively in front of her, her arms crossed before it. With a swift movement, she tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

Harry swallowed thickly. He couldn't call forth the lie. He couldn't speak. Something about her stare, her posture, made him want to confess the truth. She hadn't batted an eye at the admission of his name. If she was from the magical world, she had to know his name. It was only logical to think so.

But she knew about werewolves. She knew that he'd read her computer account, somehow, and she was waiting expectantly for his answer. Deciding, once and for all, that he couldn't possibly tell her the truth, he opened his mouth. "Yes." Slipped past his lips before he was able to identify the possibility of the truth admitting itself. She cocked an eyebrow at him, questioningly.

"One." He conceded. "A teacher of mine, a few years ago." Harry paused, then, trying not to flinch at the reaction he knew as coming. She was sure to explode at this, expecting some kind of jaunt or disbelief. He was sure of it, she was going to think he was insane or tell his aunt and uncle of what he said. Nothing good could come of this. Harry decided that he was deeply in trouble.

"A teacher? Isn't that dangerous?" Willow replied, curiosity liberal in her tone.

Her reaction surprised a "Huh?" from Harry, and a look that must've displayed his confusion. This was mostly deduced by Willow's attempt at stifling a giggle.

"Well, a werewolf. That would be a danger, wouldn't it? Since you live at school. Wouldn't having a werewolf running around three nights a month cause problems? Seeing as how he could attack a student without knowing it?" Willow expanded, slightly perplexed.

"Well, that's pretty much why he wasn't allowed to teach anymore. No one knew what he was until the end of the year. He wasn't ever a danger, though, not to the students, anyway. He took the Wolfsbane Potion…" Harry paused, barely recognizing what he was saying, even as he spoke.

He turned and clamored up onto the top bunk, silently telling himself to shut up. He was just digging deeper hole for himself. The last thing he needed to be talking about was Potions. He had all but explained Hogwarts in explicit detail…and so carelessly. Harry resolutely decided that he was going to have to glue his lips shut at the rate he'd been going.

"Wolfsbane Potion?" Willow asked, undeterred by his leaving. She was obviously still sitting in the same place on her bed. Harry didn't answer, thinking that maybe she would let the subject drop if he kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately for Harry, he didn't know her very well. Willow climbed out of bed, and stood on the frame of the bed next to her mattress, propping her chin on his bed. "Wolfsbane?" She added insistently.

Harry carefully avoided looking at her, due to the fact that the redhead had adopted an almost astonishing puppy-dog look that made him want to tell her. With an exaggerated pouting noise from Willow, Harry sighed, defeated. "Wolfsbane." He replied in agreement. "It's a potion that allows a werewolf to retain their mind throughout a transformation."

"Does it work? Can you make it? Do you know how? Have you made one before? What do you need to make it? Can we make one? Is it really hard?" Willow brightened at his answer, and spouted question after question. For a moment, Harry wasn't even sure if he was supposed to answer her.

At her pause to take a breath, she gave him the same, expectant stare that she'd given him before. He realized, then, that he was, indeed, supposed to answer. "Sorry, Willow, but I don't know how to make it. It's too complex. And I don't think that Aunt Petunia regularly keeps potion ingredients in stock."

"Oh." Willow deflated at his negative answer. "But it does work, then?"

"Yeah." Harry answered, hoping that the answer would at least make her feel a little bit better. "But the werewolf has to take it ever day during the transformation. If he misses a day…"

"Are we speaking from experience?" Willow questioned.

"Well, a little bit." Harry answered, and then flushed again. He was going to get expelled from Hogwarts for telling all this to a muggle. He was going to say more, when Willow slipped. Her toes slid off the beam of wood she was precariously balanced on. She fell to the floor with a pained "Ugh."

She stood and climbed onto his bunk to more easily speak to him. By then, he'd figured something out to say, "So, what about you, Willow? Many werewolves where you come from?"

"The only one I've ever met is Oz." Willow answered, treading carefully--even in her mind--around the thought of Veruca and the pain it caused. "But since Sunnydale was on a Hellmouth and everything, we did get a whole lot of…interesting characters, I guess."

"A Hellmouth?" Harry returned, glad to have the conversation flowing again…and away from his schooling. "What's that?"

"It's just what it sounds like it is." Willow answered, and despite the words themselves, her tone was anything but derogatory. "It's an actual mouth into Hell. Interesting concept, isn't it? It's a conversion of mystical energies…" She drifted off at the blank look on Harry's face. "Never mind. It's a pretty big demon magnet, though."

"Demon magnet? What kind of demons?"

"Vampires, mostly." Willow answered, enthused about her topic. "We've had a lot of different evils come and try to take over. There was that praying mantis lady who tried to eat Xander…"

"Whoa." Harry answered. "Praying mantis lady?"

"Yeah, and then there was the Order of Taraka, which consisted of these three assassin guys. Which, ironically, involved that one guy who was made of bugs. Also tried to kill Xander." Willow grinned as she spoke, completely missing Harry's awed tones.

"Bug people a big problem there?" Harry asked faintly.

"Not as bad as the vamps, but yeah." Willow giggled.

"Have you ever faced a vampire?"

"A few. Usually I get saved, though. Not that getting saved is a bad thing or anything, 'cause hey…glad to be here and all. I'm not much on the slaying personally. It's safer not to be, ya know, in the middle of all the fighty action. Didn't stop Malcolm, though…" Her tone turned wondering as she drifted off again at her own thoughts.

"Malcolm?" Harry asked. She made his own efforts against Voldemort seem like a walk in the park with her tales. Bug people and vampires? And this Malcolm, who--sure--sounded normal enough, but one never knew…

"Yeah. Malcolm. Guy I met on the computer. Turned out to be a demon on the internet. Started to actually like him, too. Wanted to make me evil queen-like entity person, ya know?" Willow babbled. "Messy breakup…involved him getting stuck in a robot and electrocuted."

"Ah." Harry answered.

"Yeah. Then there was Rayne."

"There's something wrong with rain there?" Harry returned, once more incredulous at her words.

"Not like precipitation 'rain.' Evil, Chaos-worshipping turn-us-into-our-Halloween-costumes Rayne. Ethan Rayne. That kinda Rayne." Willow returned, thinking back to being a ghost for the evening. 'The ghost of…uh…what…exactly?' Giles' voice rang out clearly through her mind, and she had to draw her thoughts back to Harry, who was speaking.

"What did you turn into?" Harry replied, interested despite his own skepticism.

"Oh, I was lucky. I got turned into a ghost. Xander was more interesting. He was dressed up like an army commando guy, and he ended up thinking that he was a soldier. Buffy, that's my other best friend, well, she turned into this eighteenth century maiden. Pretty interesting." Willow giggled, thinking back to the thoroughly confusing holiday. "At least I remembered who I was."

"Wow, sounds intriguing."

"Never boring, that's for sure." Willow answered, fondly. "I think the correct word would be 'confusing,' though."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Harry laughed.

Willow was about to reply, but a beep from below caught her attention. She leaned over to see onto her own bed. Her computer was still on. The muffled, cursory, "You've Got Mail," sounded up at her. "Argh." She reported. Laying on her stomach, she leaned over the edge to pick up her laptop. To her dismay, halfway over the edge, she began to slide forward.

Harry, with his honed seeker reflexes, managed to grab onto her legs, albeit awkwardly. "My hero." She called up, embarrassed and grateful. Harry blushed, but she couldn't see him, as she was hanging upside-down from the edge of his bed. She grabbed her computer and held it in the crook of one arm and paused. "Help?" She managed, weakly.

Harry bit back a laugh and while holding her legs with one arm, stretched out with the other to grab an arm and pull her safely onto the bed. To his amusement, she'd turned bright red. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or the blood rushing to her head from hanging, but was willing to bet on the former.

"Uh…thanks, then." She spoke, turning a shade darker. She scooted back to lean against the wall, next to him, and opened her laptop. "Now what?" She clicked on the envelope that blinked on the base bar of her screen. The screen Harry had seen the night before popped up. "Xander." She said fondly, and opened the account.

To: "Willow"

From: "Xander"

Subject: Not goodness here, Wills.

Hey Wills,

You okay up in Giles-ville? That guy that attacked you showed up again. Very un-staked, too. Same guy, or at least same outfit and accent. He was at your house, too blind to notice the "for sale" sign. He seemed to catch it on his way out. Buffster and I were there, we saw him sneaking in.

Apparently, he finally got the fact that you were gone. Asked about you, but the guy just wasn't polite. We decided that he wasn't good enough for our Willow and we let him down gently. Sort of. Anyway, just wanted to let you know about what's going on. Be on the lookout for any more weird guys in creepy masks.

We miss you, all of us. Giles said he'd e-mail you again but the (and I quote) "Newfangled contraption is worse to put up with than I am." Well…he didn't say "I." He said "You" and he was talking to me…but you get the point. Good to know I'm better than something. I'll e-mail you again. Still waiting for a response, by the way.

Love you,

Xander

P.S. If Harry's as horrible as Vernon, I'm going to kidnap you…you can watch all the magic here that you want to. Even make some. I'm going to go now, Faith is looking at me scary. Research party…why am I here? Help me, Wills!

"Oh. Not goodness." Willow agreed verbally.

"What's that about?" Harry questioned, not wanting to intrude on her privacy but curious to see what her friend had written that entailed "Not Goodness."

"Nothing too important." Willow answered, unsure how to go about the details an admission would present. "Just general stuff. Apparently courting issues." She smiled again at that. "I should probably answer him, though."

"Ah." Harry took the subtle hint for what it was and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a few. Catch the news."

Willow waved as he left, and suppressed a slight feeling of guilt for kicking him off his own bed. She quickly turned to her laptop screen and ignored all feelings of remorse.

To: "Xander"

From: "Willow"

Subject: Re: Not goodness here, Wills.

Xander,

Hey. I'm okay. Sort of. Well, not really, but Harry's really nice so I'll survive being here. I'm fine. No sightings of masks or magic shows on this end. Are you sure it was the same guy, not a look-alike? 'Cause, you staked him pretty well and all. Tell everyone that I say hi and that I'm okay.

Which I am. Okay, that is. Thanks for talking to Devon for me.

It's nice to know, I guess. I have to go, though. I kind of kicked Harry out, and I feel a little bit guilty. I chased him to go watch the news, so I must go save him. I miss you, Xander.

Love you,

Willow.

Willow clicked send and then decided to go and free Harry from the news. When she reached the downstairs of the flat, she was surprised to find Harry kneeling in front of the television, apparently in shock.

"Harry?" She asked him.

"What do you see?" He asked her, almost harshly. Willow walked forward, assuming that he was talking about on the television screen.

"A house." She answered honestly. There was a house, too. It was painted light blue with white shudders on the front. The porch was painted white as well, including a bench swing in front of the house. There was a small flower garden in front of it, with pretty blossoms of various flowers popping up. Then something flashed, shimmering as it disappeared. Three pictures were on the side of the screen. Two adults, male and female, and a teenaged boy. "Three people."

"Over the house." Harry interrupted her.

Willow looked again, the same shimmering flash appeared. It seemed to be green, beyond that she couldn't tell. "Something flashed…green?"

Harry did his best not to roll his eyes at her tentative answer. There, floating above the home was the familiar sight of a skull and a snake. The Dark Mark. He'd tuned out the reporter's speech, but focused on the pictures. In the last, the bottommost frame, a familiar face. "Terry Boot." He finally fished out a name for it.

"You…you knew him?" Willow questioned.

"Yeah." Harry managed, swallowing bile. Voldemort or one of his followers had killed the entire Boot family. He shuddered when Willow placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry." Willow managed, fishing for words. "Did-did it say how they died?"

"Carbon monoxide poisoning." Harry answered automatically. After all, that's what the television reporter had said. But Harry knew better. He could see the Dark Mark as clearly as he could see the house and the picture of his Ravenclaw year mate. This was Voldemort's work.

"I have to go." Harry answered, and ran upstairs to the bathroom where he promptly emptied his stomach. A few minutes later, he emerged, looking far paler than he did when he entered. He went into his room and unlocked Hedwig's cage before turning to his desk and a spare bit of parchment.

He immediately began composing a letter to…Sirius. But Sirius wasn't there to receive it anymore. Tears burned hotly behind his eyes and he suppressed them. This wasn't the time to mourn. Not now. He jumped when a steaming cup and saucer was placed on the desk beside him. Willow blushed furiously at his almost accusational glare.

"I thought it might help your stomach." She admitted. "I'll go, if you want."

"No…no, it's okay." Harry managed to answer. "Thank you." He didn't move to take the tea, though, but turned to the parchment before him. There was nothing Ron or Hermione could do. Tonks or Remus would probably be his best bet for actual information. Harry decided to write to Remus, who was probably the closest thing to a parental figure he had left. Tonks might not share anything beyond what Remus would tell, anyway, and Harry did wonder how Remus was doing.

Partially due to Willow's questioning about the Wolfsbane Potion.

He began to write his letter then, and halfway through realized that Willow remained in the room, silent. Hedwig was now perching on her arm, and Willow was doing her best not to react badly to the close proximity of the owl or upset it into hurting her.

Harry's first reaction was a flare of anger, but it quickly subsided. Most people probably wouldn't be comfortable with a bid of prey taking their arm as a roost. "Hedwig, leave her alone." His voice was soft, and lightly chiding. Amber eyes turned to him, reproachfully, as if speaking in her defense. "You're scaring her."

"I'm n-not scared." Willow answered, her eyes huge, belying her words. "Okay…j-just uncomfortable."

"C'mere, Hedwig. I'm almost done. You up for flying to Moony's?" Harry questioned. She hooted softly, as if consenting, and flew to land on his forearm. He scratched her crest to the owl's obvious pleasure. He moved to sit at the desk once more. Hedwig perched on the edge of it.

In a moment the letter was finished. He tied it to her leg and was about to let her out the window, when his bedroom door burst open with such force that the doorknob was stuck in the opposite wall.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, BOY?"

(a/n: that's all for today. I'm sooo sorry that it took so long to update, but seeing as my computer doesn't ever work at home and I can only update when I'm babysitting (which is once a week) and it takes me up to three weeks to write a single chapter….it's a difficult juggling act.

(I hope that no one's died for lack of this, because I did receive and e-mail. And an e-cookie. Go me! Anyway, enjoy all you peoples who are out there enjoying….I hope…anyway. Review! giggles)