Chapter 6
"Eulogy"
By OldScout
It was like walking through a pool of ink. The shadows swirled around him as he slowly approached the dais at the far end of the empty room. He'd never been here before when there wasn't a meeting. He'd never requested an audience before. He was a nobody working at a table in a forgotten corner of the Ministry. There he'd spent most of his life and all of his adult life pushing scrolls folding messages and being ignored. One day he stopped doing his work, he just sat at his desk all day shuffling and stacking his paper, unrolling and rolling scrolls and other worthless tasks. Nobody noticed. Nobody came and asked for his daily Knight Bus run report. Nobody asked for his daily floo access provisional report. Nobody asked why he hadn't filed his weekly apparating license renewal report. The next day he reported to work, punched in like he normally did then left again. He spent the day in Diagon Alley sitting in a small pub just off Knockturn Alley. He spent the day talking to other people who had nothing better to do in their important lives but to sit in a run down pub in the middle of a beautiful summer day.
It was his third straight day of sitting in this pub instead of producing reports that were never read. That was when he met her, the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen. At least he thought so at the time. Her alabaster skin seemed to glow under green robes that matched her eyes so perfectly. Her long, thick vibrant blond hair had a red sheen that just held his gaze as if he were staring at a great work of art by a master painter. She spoke to him; her smile froze time. She took him shopping in Knockturn Alley. He'd never been to Knockturn Alley. It wasn't nearly as bad as everyone had warned him. The people were friendly enough, if a bit reserved, and she seemed to know so many of them. She told him to come back the next day, after work. That he needed his job and eventually somebody would catch on and he'd be on the street. They'd spent the next afternoon together and the next evening. He spent the night at her apartment in muggle London. Soon they spent two or three nights a week together. She gave his life meaning, made him feel like he belonged.
That was how it started. Within a month she had introduced him to her brother. She was a widow and he hadn't known her family name but he recognized her brother and finally the family resemblance. Her brother wasn't nearly like everybody made him out to be, he was just a busy man who didn't have time to waste with so many fools at the ministry. Her brother and his associates had business dealings that the Ministry seemed to be endlessly involved in. Could he help? Check on the status of this permit, see who filed that permit. Nothing big, nothing they couldn't apply for through normal channels and wait days if not weeks for.
Now he stood in the room of shadows before his lover's master. He'd never taken the mark he hadn't been asked. He assumed because his position at the Ministry was too important or perhaps he just wasn't important enough. It didn't mater, here he stood, mark or no, head bowed before the Lord.
"What newsss do you have for me?" the being buried under the robes piled on the throne asked.
"I have information about the Slayers."
"Has the next risssen yet?" The pile of robes seemed to lean forward. "Has she found our world?"
"That's just it." He took an unconscious step backwards. "The potentials, there are none left to replace the fallen Slayer."
"She was the last? Is that possible?"
"Not the last. She was one of many." There was dead silence even the air seemed to become still.
The Lord shifted on his throne as if contemplating the meaning of what was just said. "Continue."
"Word has it that all the girls that could become Slayers have become Slayers." Did the Lord lean forward? He wasn't sure. "The Ministry and Department of Magical Law Enforcement have been conducting secrete negotiations with the Slayers' leader but they've broken down since the death of this Slayer."
"Many Slayersssssss? Not possible, it would upset the balance."
"It's the story I heard and from more then one Wizard. Apparently there is even Auror training them to fight Death Eaters, to fight Wizards."
The Lord's eyes flashed and he flew to his feet. "Impossible!!!! Even the fools at the Ministry would never allow such betrayal!! We must find this traitor and make him pay for his treachery."
"I know where they will be and the Auror, she'll be with them."
"--"
"So Buffy," Dawn asked after they'd been on road from the airport for a few minutes. "Why didn't you have the Ministry reverse what the Cleaners did and clear Sarah's name?"
Faith sitting next to Dawn slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder at Buffy. "Yea, why not? Sarah deserves better."
"By the time we figured out what happened the damage was done. The story and investigation had spread to so many departments and people it would have taken hundreds of Aurors working in unison to clean it up. Besides, you know we don't like to magically alter people's memory."
"But the Wizards do." Dawn said. "They do it all the time."
"But I don't." Buffy repeated. "We'll live with the consequences and so will the Wizards."
"We're always living with the consequences." Dawn mumbled.
"That's life." Buffy said quietly. "We live with the consequences of ours and other's actions. The Wizards try to constantly manipulate things so that they don't have to. That's why their world is so screwed up."
Was that it? Tonks sat in the far back seat between two young slayers who leaned forward intently listening to life lessons from the eldest slayer. Was her world really screwed up? Is that why she'd taken to this new world of fighting monsters and training young women? It was also a world of tolerance and forgiveness, one where your status was based solely on your actions. Forgiveness was a big thing with these people. From what little she'd learned; Faith, Willow and Andrew should all be jail or worse for their actions in the past. Even Dana should be somewhere, not sitting in a van with a bunch of young girls going to a funeral. She looked at Illyria, they even accepted a creature like her into their midst. The Wizarding world would have had none of it; they'd all be in Azkaban right now, or dead. And Voldemort would continue to gather his power.
"--"
"Inspector, we have an ID on the plane and the passengers." Clayson heard after answering his phone. "Go ahead."
"The plane is owned by the American Government," the caller said. "The passengers where Special Agent John Meyers and Special Agent Faith Johnson, both with the F.B.I."
"Anything else?"
"The return flight plan has already been scheduled for midnight. Agents Meyers and Johnson are only in town for the day."
Inspector Clayson closed his phone. What the hell? The United States government flew two agents all the way to London to attend the funeral of a sixteen year old foster child who died of a drug overdose. That just didn't add up. The girls seemed to know Agent Johnson. She was one of them. Why would the F.B.I. be involved in a drug ring like this? Unless it wasn't a drug a ring. Unless it was a murder and the drugs had been a plant. What about the blood stains in the alley? He'd gone back after talking to Miss Summers. Using special chemicals and infrared lights they'd found the stains like Miss Summers had described; but there was no telling how old the stains were, they could have been days or even weeks old.
"They're just doing their job." The words echoed in Clayson's head. Agent Johnson knew why he was here and harbored no resentment. She knew it was just his job. Why did he still catch himself thinking of this as a murder? Sometimes he dreamed at night that he was holding an evidence bag with the knife he'd found in the girl's room. It was too real, more like a memory.
"Do you ever feel like we're barking up the wrong tree?" Clayson asked the tech who was staring out the window watching the scenery roll by.
"Sir?" The young man turned to face him. "Are you asking if I think these people are guilty or not?"
"Yes."
"We haven't seen anything that looks remotely like drug activity." The man said, "But, or course, I'm not an expert."
"Agreed."
"But we have seen some pretty weird shit. Between the blurring pictures, the people coming out of that house that never went in and now that blue hair chick. Even if these people are not running drugs, I'll bet they know how those drugs ended up on that girl."
Clayson sat back and nodded. He couldn't have said it any better then that. They might not be running a drug ring, but they sure as hell knew who was.
"--"
It wasn't a large funeral home. It was in an old house near council headquarters. The business was one of many side businesses owned by the council as a way to diversify and manage their income. Plus knowing the staff helped control those pesky questions about how peopled died.
The two vans driven by Willow Rosenberg and Dawn Summers pulled into the parking lot and lined up behind two more identical vans. "Looks like the others are here." Buffy said as she handed Faith's crutch out the door to the Slayer who was hopping around on one foot.
Faith looked at her reflection in the mirror, checking her makeup and adjusting the long scarf on her so it continued to cover the remains of her hair and hid the white gauze that had begun to peak out from beneath.
A short showing just before the funeral was all that was scheduled. After two weeks in cold storage, it really wasn't appropriate for much more, plus there was no other family and no other friends. The group slowly filtered into the funeral home to meet the other older slayers and staff from the Council.
"Hey Faith," Charles Gunn said as he greeted her in turn. "Girl friend, what happened to you?"
"Long story, Councilor." Faith returned. "Don't worry though; I'm still five by five. Everything's intact, just got to let it heal." She started greeting the rest of the staff and introducing Agent Meyers.
"Faith, when you said you'd be bringing company we hoped you might be brining Hell Boy." Andrew said after a very quick uncomfortable hug in greeting.
"Oh, yea that would have gone over well." Faith replied. "A seven foot tall red apocalypse demon with a tail and shaved off horns wondering the streets of London. I'd have to vote for, ahhhhh no."
"He didn't want to come anyway." Meyers added, "He gets all choked up at funerals."
As Meyers spoke, Faith wondered away on her aluminum crutch; already using it like she'd been born with it.
"If you'd excuse me, Agent Meyers," Andrew said after seeing more people enter the room. "I have to go say hi."
"Who is that? It looks like she's under guard or something."
"That's Dana." Andrew replied. "And she is; you best keep your distance." He walked over to the three new comers.
"Hello ladies." Andrew smiled in greeting.
"I know Andrew." The brunette with wavy shoulder length hair said as she looked at him through her bangs.
"Dana, it's good to see you out. How are you feeling today?"
The young woman held up her hand and looked at it. "Alive but weak."
"Yes, Willow said you wanted your medication so you wouldn't accidentally hurt anybody today."
"Sarah was nice. I wanted to say goodbye."
Andrew looked into the other room where he could see the coffin as Faith approached it. "Do you want to get any closer?"
"She's not in there." Dana said and pointed to an empty corner. "She's over there."
"Is she just here for the service?" Andrew asked seriously.
"She'll go home when she's at rest."
"Why don't you go keep her company until it's time to go to the cemetery?"
Dana nodded and went over to the corner of the room and sat on the floor with her back against one wall. "Just stay with her." Andrew said to the two girls who'd come in with Dana.
"Of course." The two Slayers took chairs to either side of Dana.
Faith approached the coffin. Some of the other girls were talking.
"How'd they get her in that skirt?" One of them asked trying to force a smile.
"Yea, will the Powers recognize her without her camouflage?" another asked.
They weren't being mean or making fun. These girls were friends, true friends. Teasing their friend and enjoying the memory of her quirks. Faith smiled. They knew her well. She reached out and grabbed the edge of the metal coffin to steady herself as she looked in. The edge of coffin started to crush under her grip and she felt a touch on her arm.
"Let's go talk to some of your friends." She heard Meyers say.
"All I see is a cold dark hole." Faith mumbled and let go of the coffin.
Another arm reached around her waist. Faith looked at Andrew. "Dana says she sees Sarah in that corner." He whispered to her and gave a little nudge in that direction.
Faith limped over to Dana and used her crutch for support as she slid down the wall holding her cast leg out in front of her. It was not a very elegant way for a woman in a business suit to sit but it was where she needed to be. The two dark Slayers sat side by side on the floor waiting for the service to begin and to end.
"--"
The ceremony in the funeral home was brief. From outside Inspector Clayson suspected it took longer to get all those girls and young women seated and settled then the ceremony actually lasted. One thing he noticed though home was that every single person who showed up was from the Summers School for girls or the IWC. Not one of Sarah's few cousins, aunts or uncles or other family friends bothered to show. These people were here, how could they be responsible for her death? They were not acting like some major drug cartel; they were acting like a large family.
He didn't need to follow them to the cemetery. He knew where it was. He'd considered having the chase vans just join the procession; they all knew they were there. In the end he decided to leave early, park out of sight of the plot and observe on foot at a distance. He set up a couple of the surveillance techs to get pictures of the participants but they were well hidden in the distant trees.
Mrs. Peach stood with Inspector Clayson on a slight rise about forty meters from the site. "Do you still think they're drug dealers?" She asked as the watched the short procession of vehicles approach.
"No, but I'm certain they know what happened to Miss O'Malley." He pulled his coat tighter around himself. "Sarah O'Malley is dead and the killer will be brought to justice, I won't let this one get away."
The vans arrived letting out a large number of young women and few men. It was a strange mix of people from Faith Johnson with her horribly crushed leg, to the bald lawyer, to the strange woman with the black cloak and blue hair. Four young women carried the full size coffin from the hearse to the grave side.
In the back of the group, four other women stood out to Inspector Clayson's trained eyes. "Those four in the back, what do you know about them?" He pointed out the four. "Particularly the one with the long brown hair in the middle."
Mrs. Peach looked at the girl. "I met, or really saw her once in passing at the school." She replied. "I think her name is Dana. Why?"
"Well, I was just thinking that if those three standing beside and behind her where wearing police uniforms, I'd expect to see her in shackles."
"What?!"
"The way they walk and stand with her; that's exactly how we escort dangerous prisoners to and from court."
"--"
Watching through an observer glass, twelve Death Eaters stood ready to attack the muggles and the muggle loving Auror with them. They had two main missions; the first and primary mission was to kill the traitor in front of her friends. Teach the muggles that even an Auror was not safe from the will of the dark lord. The second mission was to take one of the slayers alive and relatively unharmed. This was going to be tricky since they were could break most binding magic. Therefore they had developed several combinations of spells designed to be delivered in a specific order to incapacitate, bind and render the slayer unconscious before she could fight them. The final directive was to do as much damage to the slayers and support staff as possible. This would demoralize them and make them a less effective enemy.
"Which one is the traitor?" One of the Wizards asked no one in particular as he watched the people get out of the vans and wait for the hearse. The attendees were almost all young women. "How do we know..." he stopped speaking as somebody wearing a Wizarding robe with pulled up hood stepped out of one of the vans. "There is our Auror. The nerve of her to flaunt who and what she is in front of all those muggles."
"We shall teach her a lesson soon enough." Another Wizard replied.
"When do we go?"
"Just as the ceremony is finishing; the muggles will be at their lowest and most vulnerable." the eldest said. "Plus they will not be expecting an attack just after such a solemn occasion."
"What about the Wicca?" one of the others asked. The question was almost sarcastic. There had been great debate as to whether the Wicca witch was any real threat.
"I have taken care of her as well." The eldest said.
"Then you believe her a threat?"
"Threat or not, she will be dealt with first. I have, ah, recruited a muggle to distract her."
"--"
Faint whispers of magic were all Willow could feel during the ceremony. Something could be brewing or she could just be picking up on the mix of Slayer, wiccan, wizarding, and ancient magic all gathered in this one spot. It was probably nothing; those Death Eaters were too big a cowards to attack a group like this.
The last verse was read, the last remembrance was said and the old Minister thanked everyone for coming. As people slowly started to ahead back to the vehicles a young girl no more then six holding a couple of roses broke away from her mother and ran up to Willow.
"This is for you." She said handing Willow the only red rose she was carrying.
"Oh how sweet." Willow smiled and took the rose. The instant she touched the flower, she felt a sharp pulling sensation just behind her navel. As her surroundings started to blur, she could hear screaming and shouts. Most of the noise stopped quickly except the sound a child screaming.
"What the hell just happened?" Inspector Clayson yelled and started to jog toward the spot Miss Rosenberg and the child had just disappeared from. The mother was screaming and the funeral attendees where shouting about an attack.
Crack! Crack! Two robed figures appeared out of nowhere. "Avada Kedavra." One said pointing a small stick at the woman with blue hair. A blast of green light accompanied by a rumbling that sounded like freight train engulfed strange woman.
"Crucio!" The other said pointing at Dawn Summers as she jumped out of the way. No sooner then he said the word, the shaft of a cross bow bolt slammed through the side of his head.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Three more robed figures appeared on the opposite side of the gathering.
Dawn rolled to the ground and heard her name called. She looked up in time to see Tonks toss her a wooden stake before turning her wand toward more arriving Death Eaters. Growing up on the Hellmouth with the Slayer for a sister taught Dawn to have impeccable reflexes. It had become second nature to snatch a stake when it was tossed to her. That was what Buffy had been counting on when she gave Tonks her instructions. If something happened, get Dawn to safety and there was one thing she was sure to reach for in a fight. The stake was a port key, keyed to activate only when touched by Buffy or Dawn. It was one way. Dawn was going someplace safe and wasn't coming back until Tonks retrieved her. Boy was she going to be pissed.
Crack! Crack! Two more came in just behind where the first two arrived. Instead of finding a dead Auror to collect; they found one of their companions with a crossbow bolt in his head and the other laying on his back at the feet of the Auror. Her hood was off revealing wild black hair with blue streaks framing her face and vein laced stripes across her forehead and down either side of her neck. Her eyes glowed blue in anger. She looked at them with a tilt of her head then at the man at her feet. His mask had been knocked off and he was trying to scramble away from her. She leaned down, drawing her fist back.
"Stupify!" one cursed at her.
"Immobilous" the other one cursed.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Three more Death Eaters came in on another side of the group. The slayers were now in a cross fire of three groups of Death Eaters.
The woman with the blue hair punched the Death Eater at her feet in the chest. His strength immediately left his arms and his body collapsed to the ground.
"Crucio!"
"Stupify"
They continued to pound curses at her but the curses just shimmered and dissipated. She stood and jerked her hand free from the body. They looked on in horror realizing she pulled something out. She looked at them and held up her blood covered left hand showing them a still beating heart.
Crack! Crack! Two more Death Eaters popped onto the fourth side of the group into a maze of flying knives, crossbow bolts, flashes of curses and screaming peopled.
Bang! Bang! One of the new arrivals' knees disintegrated in a spray of muscle and blood. Their arrival was perfectly coordinated to surround the Slayers and associates to pin them down like rats in a trap. But they were in the perfect line of fire for the incapacitated Faith. She lay on her back after diving for cover behind some tombstones. She couldn't walk, couldn't crawl and could barely sit up, so she waited. Her Government Issue automatic pointed in the only direction she could see. She waited until a black clad figure appeared in her sight. The double tap was instinct, drilled into from months on the range. As the man fell she saw his white mask and pulled the trigger again. The bullet hit him between the eyes and took out the back of his head. She waited for the next.
Inspector Clayson hadn't gotten far before all hell broke loose around the open grave. Instinctively he jumped for cover behind head stones as did the others. Screams were mixed with the strange cracking noise as figures wearing black robes seemed to appear out of thin air. Other strange hissing or zapping sounds accompanied by words spoken and yelled in Latin flew back and forth. Intermixed with everything was the twang and whoosh of a cross bow being fired and the simple unmistakable sound of fist striking flesh.
Bang! Bang! ....Bang! The three gun shots immediately put things into perspective for everybody.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Five in quick succession; something told Clayson it wasn't more arrivals. He looked over the stone he was hiding behind. The only people standing were young women. All were holding knives, swords or crossbows, all except two. The one with short black hair was holding a short stick like the attackers had used and the other with blue hair had shed her robe to reveal a body suit made up of a patchwork of dark red and black leather. She dropped something on the body at her feet and turned to inspect the others.
"Where's Oriens?" She asked the young woman with the stick.
"She's safe." Buffy Summers answered. "Tonks will go get her when we're sure it's safe here."
"Fine." She glared at the woman called Tonks. "I will accept that for now."
"Are there any Death Eaters still alive?" Buffy asked the crowd. "We need to find out what happened to Willow and the little girl." Buffy looked down at the mother who just sat on the ground with her knees hugged to her chest.
"Where's my baby? Where's my baby?" The woman cried over and over as she rocked back and forth.
Buffy looked around. "Okay take a count. Is anybody else hurt or missing? Grab your stuff we've got to get out of here."
"Where's Dana?" One of Dana's escorts asked.
"What?" Buffy spun around looking at the group. "Dana! Anybody see what happened to Dana?"
Crack! Crack! Crack!
More people in black robes started to arrive.
To be continued.....
"-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"
AN: Some of the conversation in the funeral home was inspired by the song "Grandpa That I know" written by Shawn Camp and Tim Mensy and record by Patty Loveless on her album "On Your Way Home".