AN: SUMMER VACATION HAS FINALLY ARRIVED AND I NOW HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO ALL THE WRITING I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DO DURING THE TERM TIME. I NOW HAVE OVER FIFTY REVIEWS SO AM WILLING TO WRITE MY NINTH CHAPTER. WATCHED CHOSEN ON SATURDAY AND HAVE ALMOST BEEN CONVERTED TO SPUFFY INSTEAD OF Buffy/ANGEL. THE KEY WORD THERE BEING ALMOST. WATCHED SHREK 2 YESTERDAY AND HAD MUCHOS LAUGHS BECAUSE OF THIS. WAITING IMPATIENTLY FOR SPIDEY TWO TO HIT THE BIG SCREENS. AM RUNNING OUT OF THINGS TO SAY IN MY NOTE NOW SO WILL CONTINUE WITH DISCLAIMER AND CHAPTER.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN IT AND NEVER WILL. I AM NEITHER JOSS WHEDON OR J K ROWLING. IF I WERE EITHER OF THESE PEOPLE MY LAPTOP WOULDN'T BE RUNNING ON WINDOWS 98. ALSO MY TV WOULD HAVE A USB PORT SO I COULD WATCH DVDS WITHOUT WIRING THE DVD PLAYER THROUGH MY VIDEO PLAYER. I HAVE NO MONEY AND THIS MUCH WILL BE GIVEN TO ANY WHO ATTEMPT TO SUE ME.
RATING: PG-13, MAYBE R IN PLACES
Chapter Nine
Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair at the head of the great table in the Hogwarts great hall. He had listened to the speech of Dolores Umbridge with great annoyance. He had expected it, of course, but it was still aggravating to know how much the ministry would be controlling Hogwarts that term.
He watched the Gryffindor table with interest. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sat at one end of the table. They were talking quietly, ignoring the questions of the other students about the whereabouts of the last member of the golden trio. He hoped that Mr Weasley would come to accept the changes in his best friend. He had not yet announced the appointment of the new teachers and the visitors from Sunnydale.
The slayer and her companions had decided that they would all arrive with Angel. They were to take a port-key to Hogsmeade and then walk up to the school. It was decided that it would be best if all the surprises were given at once. Professor Dumbledore was feeling slightly malicious about Dolores Umbridge and could not wait for her reaction to the visitors. The idea of muggles at Hogwarts would be highly controversial. However, the respect and fear that the slayer was held in would quell most of the voices at the ministry. Albus himself was slightly afraid of the small blond. When he had first met her, he would not have suspected her to be the infamous slayer, however, when he had seen her fight and talk, he knew just how strong a person she was, as well as a fighter of unusual calibre.
He stood up then, and gestured for silence. After this had been achieved, he spoke,
"I have an announcement to make. As I am sure that you know, Harry Potter disappeared from his Aunt and Uncle's house. We carried out extensive searches for him ever since his disappearance. A few days ago, we managed to find out where he was and what happened to him. He has returned to Hogwarts with us and, despite a few changes, will be continuing his education. He was pulled through a rip in the space time continuum, which has dramatically altered his appearance, as well as causing him to age ten years before he could return here."
A great clamour filled the room and Dumbledore was forced to lift his hand for silence before he could continue speaking,
"While he was away, Mr Potter made the acquaintance of Miss Buffy Summers. You may or may not be aware of Miss Summer's true identity. I dare say many of you may have heard of the vampire slayer. Miss Summers is the slayer in this generation. She started a relationship with Mr Potter and has agreed to return here with him. Due to this desire, she has agreed to teach a new class, physical defence. As well as her watcher, a few of her friends have accompanied her. One of these is a mostly untrained Wicca of amazing potential. Three others will be with them and attending classes with the fifth year due to their friendship with Mr Potter and their lack of magical training. Physical defence will be a compulsory class for all years and there will also be extra voluntary sessions on weekends and during some evenings during the school week."
A great clamour filled the hall at this announcement, the students rapidly talking about meeting The Slayer. The person sitting nearest to them quickly informed those who didn't know what the slayer was. The Gryffindor table was the loudest by proxy, but the other houses made their fair share of noise. Even the more reticent Slytherins made enough noise of their own, though what they said might not have been exactly complimentary. It seemed that the presence of the slayer would be enough to distract the students from changes in Mr Potter. Then a question was shouted from the Gryffindor table,
"Will the guests be staying in the tower along with Harry?"
Dumbledore sighed and shook his head,
"No, neither will Mr Potter be residing in the tower with you. Due to some of the changes he over-went during what has been for him ten years, he will be staying in quarters with the slayer and the other visitors. He will also not be able to be a member of the Gryffindor quidditch team ever again unless his research makes significant progress."
There were groans from the Gryffindor table at this answer and many questions began to be asked about Harry's 'condition' and why he could no longer sleep in the dorm or play quidditch. Fortunately, Dumbledore was saved from answering them by the timely opening of the huge doors to the great hall.
When Albus Dumbledore said opening, he was being polite about what happened. The doors almost swung off their hinges as the slayer and her vampire lover strode into the hall. They walked together, their steps perfectly matched. They were dressed in the same fashion, obviously wearing clothes to intimidate the students. They both wore black leather trousers and long black dusters. Each of them had a long sword strapped to their hip. Angel wore a crushed velvet shirt the colour of dark blood. Buffy wore a black leather top styled like a corset. Angel's hair was spiked up messily to reveal the lightening bolt scar on his forehead and Buffy's was uncharacteristically braided into hundreds of tiny braids that hung loose down the back of her duster. Both of the lovers wore black army boots and the handles of knives poked out of the top of the boots, as well two strapped to each leg. The two looked deadly, to put it as simply as possible.
Whereas before the hall had been filled with questions and exclamations, now it was completely silent. There was not even a whisper as the two stalked up to the head table. They walked softly and silently, like great dark predators stalking their prey. The two took seats at the darkest end of the table and waited in the heavy silence. Finally, Dean Thomas' voice from the Gryffindor table broke the silence,
"Bloody Hell."
All heads turned now to stare at the embarrassed fifth year. Buffy and Angel smirked slightly. They were not intending to spend the entire year like this, but it was important that the students and staff understood just how dangerous they could be. This display would hopefully avert any unfortunate accidents or pranks. There was a thud as Neville Longbottom collapsed in his seat and fell with a thump to the floor of the hall. If Angel had been capable of doing so, he would have blushed, however he could not and Buffy understood the importance of this warning and therefore restrained herself.
Angel, however, did allow himself a small smile as Hermione rose, all-business, and muttered a quick and authoritative 'Enervate'. A blushing Neville returned to his seat. The event had broken the ice. Whispers broke up in the hall like grass fires. Even the normally aloof Slytherins allowed themselves the sheer pleasure of mindless gossip. The look on Draco Malfoy's face was most puzzling. It showed neither malice nor fear, merely a calculating curiosity that could prove to be far more dangerous than the other two could ever be. Malfoy was not in Slytherin just because of his blood, he was cunning, ambitious and wanted to know as much as possible to gain himself any possible advantage. He was also remarkably intelligent, although not as bookish as Hermione.
At that moment, Angel's musings were cut off as the others from Sunnydale entered. Giles had abandoned his customary tweed for some expensive looking robes of midnight black. The dignified Englishman looked just at home amongst the tables and Angel hit himself for not identifying him as of wizarding blood sooner.
Willow looked splendid in robes of a dark emerald green. Angel's unbeating heart twinged slightly as he saw the redhead. Willow looked so much like his own mother. Perhaps that was why he had always like her so much. The modest witch seemed very uncomfortable with all the attention and burrowed as much into Oz as was possible.
Oz himself looked just like Oz. His hair was coppery-red that day. He had grown his goatee back and looked fairly adult. He wore forest green robes and seemed slightly uncomfortable. A mental check told Angel that it was only a few nights since the full moon and Oz would still be slightly jittery because of it.
If Angel hadn't been desperately in love with Buffy, he would have been gobsmacked by Cordelia. The young cheerleader had been annoyed by the prospect of such concealing robes, but had managed to do her best to overcome the problem. Her dark hair was pulled up into a French twist off her head. She wore minimal make-up, only a hint of blush, a shimmer of pale lip-gloss and the merest brush of pastel blue eye shadow. Her robes were a radiant purple and of an expensive design. The elegant silver chain of the necklace Xander had given her glimmered around her slender neck.
Even Xander had risen admirably to the occasion. Angel had a feeling that if it weren't for Xander's feelings for Buffy, he would have liked the boy. He was cynical and sarcastic, with a sharp wit and a dry sense of humour. And his actions when Buffy had gone to face the Master showed much loyalty and bravery that he tried to conceal. His fashion sense, however, left much to be desired. Cordelia had obviously informed him what to wear. He was dressed in dark blue robes of a fairly simple cut that managed to look fairly respectable on the teen whose clothing normally screamed out for attention from the fashion paramedics instead of police.
Angel received a stiff nod from the others as they seated themselves. Angel knew it would be a long time before they would ever trust him again, let alone talk to him. He did not question their anger and knew that it was deserved for what Angelus had done to these five. Only Willow smiled at him and he suspected that was because she was in a similar situation with her boyfriend. It is hard to hate even a vampire when one's own boyfriend is a soulless monster with a voracious appetite three nights of the month. Oz, also, seemed to nod at him. It was hard to tell with the werewolf. He guessed that the teen felt a connection through the fact that both of them were cursed with something they could never be cured of. Angel felt respect for the young werewolf. So many werewolves simply gave in to the beast inside and became beasts all of the time. Yet this young man was barely out of childhood, yet he resisted the nature of the beast he was at the full moon. He himself had been twenty-five when he was turned and had made no effort to resist the evil that was so obvious in Darla.
Angel paid little attention to the rest of whatever it was that Professor Dumbledore was saying. He merely talked with Buffy and ate some of the food in front of him, trying to remember what it had tasted like when he was human. Buffy soon entered a discussion with Willow and Cordelia about something that he knew nothing about. It was obviously an exclusively female subject, as Oz, Xander and Giles looked just as confused as he felt. He decided now was a good time to broach a subject he wanted to talk to Giles about, softly he asked,
"May I have a word with you for a moment Giles?"
Giles looked confused and slightly suspicious. However, he nodded shortly and he left the hall with the vampire. When they were out in the entrance hall, Angel began to speak,
"I cannot apologise enough for what I did. Nor can I ever make up for it. However, I have something I would like to give you."
He reached into the pocket of his duster and brought out the package he had purchased from Knockturn Alley the previous day. He unwrapped it and handed its contents to Giles.
"This is the only remaining amulet of Sudapesh. Sudapesh was a seer and diviner. He was gifted with the ability to contact any spirit he wished. He made ten amulets that let the wearer commune with any dead soul that they wished to. The other nine have been lost. I tracked this one down to a shop in Knockturn Alley. The shopkeeper did not know what it was, selling it merely as a trinket. If you wear it around your neck, you can talk to any spirit of your choice. I thought you may wish to use it to talk with Miss Calendar."
Giles stared at him in amazement. Angel closed the watcher's slack fingers around the amulet and made to sweep back into the hall. However, Giles spoke,
"I cannot accept this. Surely you wish to talk to your parents…"
Angel shook his head.
"I cannot talk to them. I would not be worthy. Use it if you wish. I can only hope to begin to repair the damage I have done to all of you."
"Angel. You have no idea how much this means to me…"
"I do, Rupert. I spent five hundred years wishing to hear Buffy's voice. I deserved my punishment and that separation. You did not deserve to lose what you had. I hope this will help you. I do not deserve it and I do not deserve Buffy's love."
"Buffy never ceases to amaze me, Angel. She loves you entirely. She was not the same after you were gone. I am glad you are back, even if only for her sake. You complete the person that she is. I hope that the two of can find a way to be together."
Angel smiled softly,
"I love her."
Giles sniffed slightly,
"Hurt her and you'll fit in an ash-tray within the minute."
Angel smiled wryly,
"I would expect no less. I would never hurt Buffy again."
Giles nodded and there was an uncomfortable silence for a while, then Angel spoke,
"You know how to use the amulet I presume?"
Giles started, but nodded that he did know. Angel smiled slightly then turned to re-enter the hall,
"Good. Now, we should go back into the hall before anybody thinks we have killed each other."
Giles smiled,
"That wouldn't do."
Angel nodded,
"Buffy would be furious."
Giles agreed,
"Yes, then she would probably resurrect us both so that she could lecture us and then kill us herself."
Both men winced at the image of a pissed off Buffy and quickly returned into the hall.
Buffy looked up as the two men she loved more than anything else entered the hall together, both in one piece. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding as her watcher and her lover approached the high table. If Angel was starting to make his piece with the people that Buffy cared about that was good. It also seemed that Giles was on his way to forgiving, which meant that the others might accept Angel again.
Angel returned to his seat quickly, feeling the eyes of the entire hall on him and Giles. Buffy smiled at him when he sat, a sight that never failed to make his stomach clench up and his unbeating heart clench. She then handed him his goblet and nodded at him to drink. He gave her a strange look before smelling the fresh pig's blood in the golden goblet. She stared at him and made sure that he drank every drop. When she was certain he had drained the cup, only then was he allowed to return to a conversation on arcane volumes with Giles.
Buffy did not like the feast. She was uncomfortable in being in such an open position where anyone might attack. All the magic in the air was messing with her slayer-senses and she didn't like the way that everyone was staring at them. She missed Sunnydale, where she could hide out in the library and observe people instead of being observed.
Angel felt her tension and reached under the table with one hand. She felt his hand and grasped it with her own. Angel squeezed her hand slightly and she smiled at him. She had almost forgotten how he could sense what she was feeling. Almost.
Eventually the torturous dinner was over. Dumbledore dismissed the hall with a few words. Those from Sunnydale left the hall together. They went down a long corridor towards the dungeons. They stopped outside the portrait of a young wizard with dark hair and brown eyes. If it were possible, Angel would have blushed. Xander snorted,
"Wonderful, if it weren't enough to have to live with Dead-boy, we get his face on the door."
Angel scowled at him half-heartedly. He could not remember when this portrait had been done and he spoke to his painted image,
"When were you painted?"
The portrait scowled back at him and answered grumpily,
"1745. Are you going to decide on a password now?"
Angel scowled right back at his portrait. He could hear the others laughing slightly and growled under his breath. He then spoke a password that none of them would ever forget,
"Harris is a hyena."
The others laughed while Xander blushed and scowled. It was an interesting combination of expressions. It made him look like a pissed off tomato. The portrait on the wall laughed as well and swung sideways to reveal a doorway. They pushed the door open and went into the main room of their quarters.
The room was large and attractive. It was decorated in dark blue. The floor was of a dark wood. There were no portraits on the walls as Angel had requested. The portraits talked. If word got out of any of the things that would be discussed within this room, there would be trouble for everyone.
This main room was laid out as a living area. There were several large couches upholstered in a slightly darker shade of blue than the wallpaper. Also, there were a number of similarly decorated armchairs arranged around the large grate, where a fire crackled merrily, casting a warm glow over the entire room. Several low mahogany coffee tables were positioned around the room. On one of the tables there was an ornate chess set. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling and other candlesticks glowed softly from their sconces in the walls. There were several large windows with solid shutters that could easily be opened or closed. The ceiling of the room was charmed to appear like the sky as in the great hall. Part of the room was set up as a dining area. There was a large mahogany dining table with seats for eight. Three other doors led out of this main room.
The first door proved to open onto a small room with two other doors on the opposite wall. Each of these doors opened onto a palatial marble bathroom. The second door from the main room led into a large room obviously designed to be a training and workout room. Another door led from here into a library that sent Giles and Willow into paroxysms of geeker-joy. The last door led into a long corridor with seven other doors leading off it. They could only assume that these were the bedrooms. Before any scuffles over bedroom choices could begin, Giles noted that a name was inscribed on a panel on each door. Exchanging a few final pleasantries, they entered their own rooms.
Buffy sighed as she looked around the room she had been given. There was nothing wrong with the room; in fact it was a beautiful room, decorated in dark red with large windows overlooking the lake. Yet, she was restless. She had arranged and re-arranged all of her clothes and belongings, finalised her lesson plans for the next three weeks, sharpened her broadsword to a deadly edge and carved over twenty new stakes. But she was bored and twitchy. She had not realised how much of an outlet slaying was for her. The magic from Hogwarts was messing with her senses. She was also finding herself slightly missing the comfort of the regular threat of an imposing apocalypse.
She knew what she needed to do. She needed to train. If she could not kill anything, then she may as well do the next best thing and practise beating people into a bloody pulp. Maybe she could study watcher diaries or something with Giles if she had nothing else to do. Well, she wasn't quite that desperate.
She left her room and padded softly down the corridor. She entered the large main room. All the others, except Angel, were gathered there. Cordelia was reading Cosmopolitan as she painted her toenails. Xander was eating double filled oreos and flicking through a batman comic. Willow, Giles and Oz were having a chess tournament by the fire and Willow seemed to be slightly disturbed by the brutality of wizarding chess.
Not wanting to disturb them, she crossed the room silently and entered the training room in search of Angel. The training room was also empty, but a light shone from the crack under the door to the library. She entered the library and found Angel there. He had closed all the shutters and sat in a window seat with a huge pile of books by his feet. He rapidly searched through each one in an attempt to find what he was looking. Sensing as she was entering the room, he looked up at her and cleared a space for her on the window seat. Buffy joined him there and turned to look at him,
"What is it?"
Angel smiled wearily and answered her,
"This used to be the closest thing I had to a home. The Dursleys were no family. Even when I was alive in Galway, this was the only place where I felt I truly belonged. For years after I was curse I imagined returning here. I hoped that they might be able to help me. But I never came back. I was sure I didn't deserve that redemption. But I would not have returned if you didn't want to come with me. This isn't my home any more. I doubt I truly have one now. I only have you Buffy. I want to find a way round the clause as soon as possible."
Buffy half smiled, half sobbed. She wrapped her arms around her undead lover and buried her blonde head in his firm chest. The two remained like that as they slept, finally at peace together, and for the first time in forever, neither one of them were disturbed that night by nightmares. They made an attractive picture. The two of them wrapped protectively around each other. Buffy's light head touching Angel's dark hair. Both of them were silhouetted black against the silver moonlight that shone from the ceiling.
That was how Xander found them the next morning. They were curled up together in the spacious window seat, Buffy's head on Angel's broad chest and his dark head resting on her honey-golden locks. Even in sleep Angel was protective of her, his arms were wrapped firmly around her deceptively slim and fragile-looking form. For the first time since Buffy had returned from wherever the hell she had been when she had left, she looked at peace.
He was tempted to leave the two of them like that, lying safe in each other's arms. But the rest of them had already eaten their breakfast and it was more than time for them to be heading to classes. This was where problems arose. He knew from experience that it was not a good idea to wake a slayer. Having never woken Angel up, he didn't know how the vampire would react, but the experiences with Angelus didn't make him want to find out. Finally he decided to wake Angel and ask him to wake Buffy. Standing at a safe distance from the two, he said,
"Angel, Dead-boy. It's time to get up and smell the education."
One of Angel's eyes opened a crack and Xander could have sworn that the vampire groaned and muttered something about not wanting to go to school. There was something extremely entertaining about a two hundred and fifty-year-old complaining about going to school. But the vampire was awake now and he gently shook Buffy so that she was too. Buffy was awake instantly, on the alert for any threat. She blushed when she saw Angel and Xander looking at her. The slayer jumped from the lap of her lover and brushed down the front of her leather pants. She looked at Xander and asked,
"How long do we have?"
Xander groaned slightly before he answered,
"First class begins in half an hour. And the fun begins then."
Angel was the one to ask the question now,
"Why?"
Xander quirked an eyebrow,
"Well. I assume you know that we have to follow you around and take your classes with you and a bunch of fifteen year olds?"
Angel groaned,
"I'm trying to forget about that."
Xander continued with malicious glee,
"Well. From what you have told us about Gryffindor-Slytherin relations, any class with them should be interesting."
Angel winced,
"Please tell me we don't have potions with Snape first thing this morning?"
Xander shook his head,
"No, it's better. We have a whole hour with the Slytherins being taught self-defence by The Vampire Slayer."
This time it was Buffy who interrupted,
"You guys are my first class? God, is this some form of punishment for that lipstick?"
Xander was interested now,
"What lipstick?"
Buffy blushed and cursed herself for mentioning it. She knew that Xander wouldn't shut up until he knew the answer, so she told him,
"I shoplifted a lipstick from Macy's when I was in LA. My parents found out and made me take it back. It was the first thing to go on my record. This was before my days of arson and being acquainted with people who shoot themselves through the head. And then there was that whole thing about being wanted for murder."
Buffy walked towards the door then and said,
"I'm going to have a shower and get ready for my first day as a teacher. So, from now on, it's Professor Summers to you lot."
With that, she sashayed out of the room, letting the door close behind her with a small bang. As one, Xander and Angel turned towards each other and shrugged at the insanity of the female gender. It didn't matter how old men were; they would never understand the mystery that is the woman.
When Buffy re-entered the room, she saw that she was the last one there. Giles was sitting by the fireplace reading an antediluvian looking tome on the history of some amulet or another. Willow and Oz were dressed in their school uniforms, although Oz still managed to make his uniform look scruffy. Cordelia and Xander had seized the moment to lay on one of the sofas making out. Buffy straightened her black jogging pants and white crop top. She then pulled a pair of black robes over the top. She turned to Angel and almost laughed. He scowled,
"Yeah, laugh if you want."
She couldn't help it. Angel was dressed in his school uniform. The four visitors from Sunnydale simply wore plain black robes without any crest or adornment, but Angel wasn't that lucky. Angel had been forced to abandon his leather trousers and silk shirts for a pair of grey cotton pants and a starched white shirt with a red and gold tie and grey scratchy jumper. Over this he wore black robes adorned with a garish red and gold crest emblazoned with a roaring golden lion. It wasn't that he looked bad, it was just that it was not his style. The schoolboy look just didn't work on anyone who had celebrated a bicentennial.
Out of respect for Angel's feelings, she mostly suppressed her laughter. She held out her arm for him and asked,
"Shall we?"
In the manner of the 18th century gentleman he had been raised to be for many years, he replied as he took her arm,
"We shall, my lady."TBC.