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**********************************ShadowElfBard************************************

12:14 pm

Gringotts Underground, Vault 409

(Willow's POV)

Silence filled the stone chamber.

   Both Cornelius Fancy-Pants and I are staring at Dumbledore with confusion and incredulity etched upon our features. The wise wizard however, just smiles.

   Fudge seems to regain his voice, though he just can't seem to spit out the words.

   "Sure-surely you, you aren't serious Dumbledore, I mean, you… she… Hogwarts?" he finishes lamely, shock preventing him from forming a complete sentence.

   Dumbledore nods sagely. "Yes Cornelius, Hogwarts. I sincerely believe that it will help her, and that, perhaps, she will help it."

   The minister blinks, his face a mask of pure disbelief. "No. I won't believe it. There's no way that you would be so naïve to even consider the idea that I would actually agree to such a thing."

   Dumbledore raises a single eyebrow in response, still cool and composed. "And why would that be? What makes my request so inconceivable?"

    His eyes bulge in rage. "Do you know who you are talking about?! She is a Dark Witch! A loathsome, deadly, degenerate, abhorrent-"

   "That is quite enough Cornelius," Dumbledore whispers, a trace of anger and warning in his usually calm voice.

   But the minister is not about to be deterred. "No, it's not. I don't think you're grasping the situation Dumbledore. You are suggesting that this witch be taken to Hogwarts, where she would be exposed to children. Children, Dumbledore. Children who would be at an obvious risk in her presence."

   "I assure you that Ms. Rosenberg is not a Death Eater, Cornelius. She is not some minion of Voldemort." Fudge flinches at the name while I furrow my brow in confusion. "She is a woman who was misguided and brought to terrible grief over having a loved one killed in her arms. She is emotionally unbalanced, yes, but not deadly."

   Cornelius seems to be bubbling over with frustration. "I cannot let her go, Dumbledore. It is as simple as that. Besides, if she went there she'd be under your supervision. If something went wrong, you'd get blamed and-" he breaks off suddenly, realization and a perverse joy creeping into his eyes. He's instantly a whole different person.

   "Dumbledore, forget what I said before. After a quick deliberation I have decided to grant you your request. Rosen- erm, I mean Ms. Rosenberg, will be taken to Hogwarts. She will not be allowed to leave the island, and she will be in your custody. The Ministry will make periodical inquiries as to how she is being handled and should anything go wrong…" that same demonic elation shines on his face. "Should anything go wrong it might very well mean your job. I do trust that I am being clear?"

   "Of course," Dumbledore responds with a little nod, his face a mask of stone.

    The minister beams at him, and then turns on his heel and begins to stride away, his bodyguards following like ducklings behind him, and he only gives me one small, wary glance over his shoulder before he's gone.

  The Head Goblin looks up expectantly at Dumbledore. "Will that be all Headmaster?"

   "Yes, thank you."

   The goblin acknowledges these words with a grunt before also leaving, letting the door close softly behind him.

   I gaze slowly up at Dumbledore, and blink. "Um…what just happened here?"

   He gives a long, and heavy sigh. "I'm afraid Ms. Rosenberg, that you have just been assigned your sentence."

   "My WHAT?!" my dinner plate sized eyes scream the shock I'm feeling. "My sentence?! Y-You can't do that," I stutter. "I, I have to be a, a citizen and there has to be a trial, and, and…"

   He gazes at with me sympathy, which only succeeds in striking a spark of anger within me.

   "I know this must be very baffling and shocking for you Ms. Rosenberg, but if you are able to be patient I will explain to you all that I can."

   Though I'm anything but patient at the moment, and doubt I can be patient, I give a reluctant nod of acceptance.

   "Thank you. I suppose that, first of all, you'd like to know the basics hmm?"

   I give another affirmative bob of my head, wishing he could speed it along.

   He seems to sense my impatience and his placid blue eyes almost whisper to be calm. He opens his mouth to speak, and then snaps it shut again, realization on his face.

   "Oh dear me, I almost forgot where we are. It's not really the sort of place to have a long discussion is it?"

   He furrows his brow as he gazes around the cell, and mutters under his breath. I catch snatches of, "yes…over there…but by the wall… that ought to do it."

    I watch with curiosity as he draws forth his stick and does a few simple waving motions in seemingly random directions. There's a moderately loud rushing sound, and a small 'pop!' before I'm suddenly seated in a relaxing armchair.

   I gaze with widened eyes and a fly-catching mouth around the now comfortably furnished room, (as it no longer resembles a cell), and have to blink once or twice for it to settle in my mind.  The entire area is an embodiment of relaxation and refinement. There are large and spacious rugs, an elegantly designed chandelier that brings a warm and consoling light, and even a chestnut colored coffee table, upon which is seated a bowl of exotic looking candies and two mugs of hot drink.

   Dumbledore looses a sigh of contentment and gazes around at his magickal decorating with fondness. "Yes, I believe this is much better."

   He then leans back in his own stylish and inviting seat, and settles with ease. "Now then Ms. Rosenberg, on to my explanation… and undoubtedly, your many questions."

   He grabs a quick little piece of chocolate and ate and swallows it before beginning. I try to ignore the fact that the chocolate resembled a frog, and focus upon him, unknowingly getting comfortable in the fluffy softness of my chair.

   "Now, as you have just learned Ms. Rosenberg, there is another, almost hidden world that we of magickal birth keep hidden from the rest of the world, whom we like to call "muggles". They are completely unaware of our existence-"

   I roll my eyes upward at the predictable statement.

   "-And we like to keep it that way for obvious reasons. We have our own little society, and as you have already seen it has its own economy and government. We are, in essence, a whole other world."

   Unable to stop myself, I cut in. "Yes, I've figured as much, but what about me? I want to know why that pudgy dude freaked out, who you are, what Hogwarts is, why you want me there…"

   He stares at me knowingly. "In other words, you want to know everything, yet you have failed to realize that that is precisely what I was telling you. You must learn to crawl before you walk, Ms. Rosenberg."

   I sag my shoulders in defeat at his logical reasoning.

   He smiles slightly. "Good. Now then, seeing as you have, if I am to understand correctly, spent your life on a Hellmouth, I do not need to go into the long discussion of the existence of magick and sentient creatures other than humans. And, as you already know, there is both good and bad magick." he looks at me pointedly. "As you have undoubtedly discovered on your own."

   I give a timid nod.

   "But, in order for you to understand the minister's rather…harsh and quite belligerent manner, you must first know of its foundation." He sits back slightly. "You see Ms. Rosenberg, my school Hogwarts, and the rest of the wizarding world, will soon be confronted with war."

                                                                      *~*~*~*~*

Back In Sunnydale…

Buffy Summers, aka the slayer and Chosen One, sighed loudly and pushed away a plate of food that she'd picked at with disinterest for the past fifteen minutes.

   Anya, who'd been cataloging various Magic Box sales, looked over at her and frowned.

   "You shouldn't pick at it if you're not going to eat it. That would be wasteful."

   "What else am I going to do with it?" Buffy mumbled. "I'm not hungry." 

    Anya gave her a reproachful look. "You shouldn't squander anything that has potential market value."

   Buffy looked up and quirked an eyebrow. "'Potential market value'? What are you going to do; sell it to a homeless person?"

   The former vengeance demon's face brightened at the prospect. "That's a wonderful idea."

   She scurried over, grabbed Buffy's plate of untouched food, and hurried out the door. Buffy watched her go for a moment with a disbelieving face, then sighed and shook her head.

   "Is…is Anya here?"

   Buffy looked over her shoulder and saw Xander halfway through the hallway door, glancing around nervously.

   "Nope. She's gone to sell my uneaten food to the poor and homeless at outrageous prices."

   "Oh good," he said with relief, coming fully into the room. "She found a new move in the…in the book of you-know-what, and she's been hounding me all day to try it."

   The slayer grinned at her friend's comical situation. "Can't handle the lovin'?"

   He opened his mouth in exaggerated shock. "I hope you're not inferring that I, the prince of lovin', can not handle the sacred art of lovin'hood?"

   She played along. "Of course not O' great prince. But what's the problem?"

   He exhaled slowly and his shoulders sagged. "I'm all 'loved' out that's what. I may be the prince but she's the Queen; one that runs on better batteries than I do."

   Buffy laughed and he grinned and sat in a chair beside her.

   He leaned back a bit in his seat. "Why aren't you eating though, Buff?"

   "I was going to. I'd been fixing some food to sort of keep my mind off of Willow, cause, you know, you don't have to really think when you're eating."

   "And the flaw in this plan was…?"

   She stared down at the table with a depressed frown. "The ketchup."

   Xander did a double take. "The what?"

   "The ketchup. On my meatloaf. It was red. I remembered Willow's red hair." She gave another sigh. "And then the beans."

   "The beans too?"

   "Yep. They were green beans. Willow's eyes are green." She shrugged. "You get the idea."

   He gave her a worried look. "You know, I may not be a psych, Buffy, but seeing your friend in your food doesn't seem healthy."

   "I know. I just can't help it." Tears formed in her eyes. "I miss her, Xander. "

   Xander gave a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder gently. "I miss her too Buff. But it'll be okay. She'll come back."

   "Crying about red eh?"

   "Hello Spike," Buffy said sourly, not even turning to watch as the blonde vampire entered the room.

   Spike gave a little smirk as he strutted in. "She's not coming back you know. Not if she's got any sense in that little red head of hers."

   The slayer stood and turned so fast the motion was a blur. She took a step towards Spike threateningly, her fists clenched at her sides.

   "Don't. Say. That," she hissed, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

   Spike shrugged off her anger. "Face it slayer, no one wants to be here. I think she's got the right idea leaving 'Sunnyhell'."

   "Speaking of leaving, Spike," Xander cut in, causing the vamp to turn his way. "Why aren't you gone yet? There's no reason for you to stay, unless of course you're still hoping someone will stake you. Because I'd be more than happy to oblige."

   Spike curled his lips at him. "Stuff it chubs. You know I'm still her because of the bloody chip. I'm not leaving till I get it out."

   "Then let me have a go at it. I'll get a hammer for the sedative and I'm sure Giles has a rusty steak knife we can use for a scalpel."

   While the two glared at each other, Buffy simply returned to her seat and looked out the window of the shop, wondering, not for the first time, where her friend was and when she'd be back.

                                                                          *~*~*~*~*

12:35pm

Gringotts Underground, Vault 409

(Willow's POV)

"'War'?" I repeat skeptically. "From what I've seen it doesn't look like you're preparing for war."

   "I'm afraid the reason for that is the refusal of the Ministry to acknowledge it," Dumbledore said with a quiet regret. "You must understand that it has been fourteen years since our last major conflict, and we have worked hard to maintain the peace we have now. As a result they are most reluctant to admit that something will threaten our safety."

   I open my mouth, dumbfounded by this new fact. "They're ignoring a war? Can they even do that?"

   "At the moment it is not open war Ms. Rosenberg, so yes, they are able to 'do' that."

    He reaches for a jellybean and pops it in his mouth, before his face scrunches up in disgust. I hear him mutter something under his breath about anchovies, before he clears his throat and returns to telling his story.

   "Now, as I was saying before, war is coming. Fourteen years ago there was a dark wizard who started up an army to help him takeover the wizarding world and cleanse it of muggles and those he thought imperfect."

   I raise my eyebrows. "He was a racist?"

   "In a way. He sought to destroy all 'mudbloods'-those who have at least one muggle as a parent. He was defeated in the end, but it was only after the death of many witches and wizards."

   He pauses as he considers how to phrase his next words, but I've already guessed them.

   "He's not dead. He came back didn't he?"

   He gives a weary sigh and nods. "He did. He has not yet returned to full strength, but he is powerful enough to have already begun calling back his followers. Soon he will attack, in one form or another, but the Ministry will not admit to his return."

   He stares off into space for a moment, regret in his eyes, but then he refocuses and shakes his head slightly.

   "What my point is Ms. Rosenberg, is that your existence is a reminder of dark days. You frighten the Ministry. The true reason you were not sent off to Azkaban the moment after your attempted apocalypse was because the Ministry was too frightened to attempt your capture. They knew you were being sent off to the Coven, and so decided it best to let you be."

   I lean back, taking this all in. "So the reason that guy wigged was because I reminded him of this evil wizard?"

   He nods in confirmation.

   I look at him pointedly. "That still doesn't explain why he thinks I have to abide by his laws."

   "I would have thought that went without explanation. Cornelius thinks you have to abide because you will be hunted down and destroyed if you don't."

   He ignores how the color has drained from my face as he continues on.

   "Now, I'm afraid that unless you'd like to be pursued by Aurors, (those who take down dark wizards and witches) you will have to accept that you are now my charge, and you will have to be brought to Hogwarts. You can choose either way of course; I won't inform the Ministry if you choose to run, but they will find out sooner or later and you will be tracked. They are not idiots."

    I try to sink back in my seat, the world spinning around me.

    I have to make a choice. I can run now, like he said, Giles and the others might be able to protect me… but I'm not ready to face them again. And I certainly can't put them in any more danger. They've done enough for me, too much, as it is. Besides, if I go with Dumbledore to this school he might be able to help me. Maybe I can even get him to explain things more to me.

   "Ms. Rosenberg?"

   I look up at his patient blue eyes and gulp down the panic I'm feeling. It's now or never.

   "Tell me… tell me more about Hogwarts."

************************************************************************************

YES!!!! I'VE FINALLY FINISHED THE CHAPTER!!! EVEN IF IT IS REALLY SHORT!!! Sorry about that by the way. School has jumped on my back and is beating me down into the ground with a club while taunting me and shoving dirt in my mouth.

   And that's just on Mondays.

   So anyway, please review and forgive me for the shortness, lateness, and all around not-up-to-par-ness. My mind is mush right now.

              ------Talk to you soon! (If I can survive school!)