Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others
Chapter Ten Possesion

Narcissa glared through heavy lashes at Anya before righting herself on her chair and sniffing. Running a smooth finger over the desk she was seated at, she clasped her hands before her and smiled.

"He was a rat. Filthy. A muggle-lover for sure, just like dear old Dumbeldore and that dead bastard James. He deserved to die." She sat back and crossed her legs, as if that were her complete statement. Anya sighed heavily and leaned forward. She saw, in the corner of her eye, the door crack open, and Riley move to answer it, but continued.

"What, may I ask, spell did you use to kill your cousin?" Anya watched expectantly as Narcissa smiled.

"The Killing Curse of course." She said with a wicked smile. Anya frowned and leafed through the heavy folder before her.

"It says here his body was never recovered, so I suppose…"

"Why Anyanka?" Narcissa interrupted. "Why do you question this? It's a war that is taking place. Here, though, here you choose for the other team. Do you know not what side I was loyal to? Wasn't it the same side you, too, were loyal to?"

"Was, Narcissa. There - past tense. I am not foolish enough to make the same mistake twice, and you would do well to follow that advice." Narcissa's lips were wrung into an awful grin.

"No? So I am mistaken when I believe that you are falling so far for soldier boy over there?"

Anya frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. She knew Riley wasn't in the room. He couldn't hear, but, the door thumped loudly as he reentered. He gave Anya a helpful smile, and Anya smiled.

"It's not the same," she said to Narcissa.

Oz flinched at the steeliness of the man's voice. He heard the nearly silent footfall of Faith as she took a step backwards.

"I believe you have something of mine?" Voldemort- Oz had heard much of him- asked, smiling as he opened a pale, spidery hand expectantly.

Oz shrugged, and Voldemort's smug expression faltered. His eyes flickered to the shadowy corner of the room, and when Oz strained, he heard the soft hiss of a snake.

"Are you sure you do not know where the, where the i mirror /i is then? I'm sure I can...smell it on you. Silver has such a scent, you know."

"Sadly, I don't." Yet he could feel the silver press through the light cloth it was wrapped in and press against his thigh. He shivered, feeling it so close.

Then, and now, Voldemort began to pace softly before them, pale hands clasped in front of him before he turned back to them.

"You, I know, are a Werewolf. Why should you bother to carry a disease in your pocket, for surely, that's what it is. A deadly disease, really. And you..." he looked to Faith, who regarded him in a heavy stance, forward and defensive. "You are a Slayer. Not too spotless of record, for sure, but...you have a power, a glow."

"Not to be messed with, Voldie." She said, though Oz could hear the shakiness in her voice. Voldemort, too, could hear it, and he grinned.

"You'll not leave this place alive, you know. I doubt your... i friends /i will be much help this time. So stay hear...better you hold the mirror than I...perhaps the silver will kill you before I find the time to do it myself."

He walked away, and as he did so he made a slight hiss with his breath, and Oz winced as a gaint snake followed from the shadows at his heel.

"My God," Faith said with a wide grin. "It's like a huge puppy dog."

Oz looked at her, eyebrow arched amusedly. "Do you like silver?"

Buffy looked up abruptly as her sister slammed the paper on the staff table, her hands shaking. Hermione and Harry were trailing behind her, looking slightly confused and slightly shocked.

Buffy, too looked down to the black and white pictures her sister was pointing too and gasped. At that moment, Dumbledore chose to enter for breakfast, but Buffy caught his elbow with Slayer speed before he sat down. It did not bother her that half the hall and a handful of teachers were looking on at her furious expressions, or that Dumbledore only smiled down sadly at her; she shoved the paper into his face and i growled /i .

"Fix. It."

"Mr. Potter, Fifteen points from Gryffindor for being late. And another five for Miss Granger and Miss Summers.

The trio- missing the redhaired Weasley from whom they had just come from, glared up at the DADA teacher. Dawn slammed her books onto their table and sniffed as she plopped into her chair.

Snape smiled wickedly.

"Another five for disruptive behaviour, Miss Summers."

Hermione elbowed her, and her eyes bugged with a muffled 'oomph' and she looked darkly at Harry, who smiled weakly. Once they were seated, Snape took for the front of the room with a last glance at them.

"Today, class, we will be practicing..." Dawn tuned the proffesor out and looked at Harry. He was doodling on the edge of his parchment, and when she looked over for a view, he closed his book on it, smiling sheepishly.

Bored, she turned her mind over to the conversation she'd had with her sister earlier...

i "Dawnie, don't worry about it, it'll be fine."

"Is he gonna fix it? Buffy, it's Faith we're talking about. It's Oz."

Buffy knew how saddened Dawn was- she knew how she'd grown to respect the brunette Slayer and adore the Werewolf, and she, too was scared.

But emotions were not important right now.

"We can't let our personal issues interfere this time, Dawnie. We'll get them, they'll be safe, but we can't run in and save the day right at this moment. They'll have our heads." She lowered her tone and tucked a long brown strand behind her sisters' ear "We gotta be sensible". /i

Sensible...yeah, right.

Buffy clutched a handful of hair in her hands and buried her head in her knees. She wouldn't let the tears come. Not this time. Faith...and Oz. Wow, when had she seen Oz last? It'd been a few years...he must've changed a deal. And she was scared for him. A part of her wanted to scream and cry and call Willow. Willow should know, but it was for the same reason that Buffy didn't tell her. She would be scared. She would act rashly. She still had feelings for the guitarist Werewolf, God knows, and it wouldn't do well for her to know what had happened.

She felt the matress depress behind her, and cool hands embraced from behind, pulling her back into him. Magic fingers loosened her hair from her hands, and instead they wrapped around the soft white ones.

"S'Alright pet." He whispered, and she sighed, leaning further into the embrace.

"What're we gonna do, Spike?" she whispered back, feeling his mouth kissing softly apon some small strip of exposed neck.

"Bide our time, pet. What you've always done. Let oppurtunity strike."

"I love you Spike," Buffy whispered, and his arms squeezed tighter around her, so, encouraged, she continued. "You've changed so much...proved me far more wrong than I'd like to admit, but...You've changed. And you're not like Angel. With Angel I was always reminded of how much older he was, every second..and with you I feel older somehow, until you do something...sing Sex Pistols in the shower or comment on WWII and then...then it doesn't really matter...then I'm happier...you do that for me Spike. You're the reason I'm alive, the reason I don't feel so alone."

"Pet," he whispered. "Buffy I'll always be here, never leave you."

Buffy turned in his embrace and kissed him hard. His touch was welcoming as they lay back.

"Never leave me, Spike." she said between breaths,"Never Leave Me."

Ron turned on his side on the hospitable bed. Madam Pomfrey had given him some potion, but it would take it's time.

It was dark. He exhaled and closed his eyes to the darkness. Next to his bed was a framed picture of Hermione, but she seemed to be asleep against the edge of a frame. He heard a soft breeze rattle the windows and opened his eyes...

Somewhere, soft breezes were making giggles in the air...

Soft musical sounds...

Ron coughed, and the sound was too loud to his own ears.

He opened his eyes and looked up, immediatly going rigid in his bed.

This was not the hospital wing.

He was staring up at a soft thatched roof, where the rafters were low. Sitting up, he was on hard stone. A large room it seemed, that once might have served as a dining hall but was now empty but for a large metal structure.

That he seemd to be in. Looking around, he saw a young woman handling a silver mirror in her fair hands, her dark hair tumbling over her face. When she looked up as he stirred, she seemed to relax a bit more and held the mirror up.

"Rise and Shine wolfie." she joked in a tight way. American. Typical.

But the way she looked, now when light hit her face just so...she looked familiar.

"Faith..." he whispered. She looked at him funny, as if he were crazy.

"Yeah. Something hit you over the head Oz?"

Oz.

Oh, bloody hell.

Bad dream. Bad, bad dream.

Well, actually, this would be the better position. He touched his chest and felt young hard flesh under his fingers. Picking the sheets away from his body he saw athletic and lanky legs that ended in feet too big to be his own.

Bad, bad, bad, dream.

There was a creak, and the door opened. A girl with large brown eyes watched him form the doorway before running, arms open, to him.

"Ron!"

No, he wanted to scream. I'm Oz.

Simple, calm. That's my way, he thought.

And this is a bad, bad dream.

Anya packed her last shirt into her bag and smiled as she zipped it up. Collecting various items from around the room, she placed them into a small carry bag and placed it next to her bag. Satisfied, she turned away and emitted a soft scream.

"Dumbledore!" She said breathlessly, fallen back against the bed. His face was somber, and he drew up a chair with his wand, gesturing for her to sit.

"Not all is well, Aud." he said softly, and she frowned at her own name. "You have a meeting with the new Minister. There are details of this death not yet handled as they should be." Anya looked up into his wizened gaze and sighed.

"The room behind the curtain, I suppose." she said softly. He looked sadly out the window into the smoggy streets of London.

"Not all is right with the world until the dead have found their revenge...their peace."