It took me forever to finish this chapter. I warn you, a lot of things occur so you'll need to bear with me. I hope everyone had a lovely holiday and I wish all my readers a Happy Holidays or a Happy ChristmaHannuKwanzaakah! And I have just heard that July 16, 2005 is the official release date of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince! Those that did not already know this and are dying to have that book come out may now take the time to jump up and down with uncontained glee. Sure, we have to wait seven months, but I seriously thought I was going to have to wait until I graduated to read the sixth book. Anyway, I've already started typing up the next chapter and since I'm on a lovely week and a half long break from school, I hope to have it in at least by New Year's, if not before. Major thanks and extra special holiday wishes to all my lovely reviewers. Responses are posted at the end of the chapter, as usual. Enjoy!
Christmastime happened upon Buffy almost unexpectedly. One minute, she was trying to figure out what to do with the thousand odd girls who now had super powers and the next she was trying to figure out what Christmas (or Hanukkah in Willow's case) gifts to buy for her myriad of family and friends. She no longer considered Xander, Willow, Giles, Spike, Angel, and even Faith as just friends—they were her family. The problems with Voldemort, Willow's arcane stalker, and her own inhibitions with her stance as leader of all slayers in the world were temporarily suspended under the contagious cheer the holidays always seemed to evoke.
Somehow, shopping during Christmas in California is a lot different than shopping during Christmas in London, she joked lamely to herself as she tightened her scarf. Like her sister, she had not really gotten used to the colder climate of Britain with her Californian genes. It had only snowed once in Sunnydale during the seven years she had lived there and she had her suspicions that incident hadn't been all that…natural.
Buffy heard someone call her name and looked over her shoulder to see Wesley and Fred waving her over. She crossed the street with an amused grin on her face over poor Wesley being dragged down by the weight of so many packages. Fred only had a few tucked into her arms and she seemed to be cursing the cold weather as much as Buffy was. Us southern gals.
"Need a hand, Wes?" Buffy ventured, her blue-green eyes sparkling with mirth.
Wesley shook his head and replied in a strained voice, "No, I'm quite all right, Buffy. Ahh!" One of the bags slipped from his weak grasp upon it, but Buffy managed to catch it before it spilled all over the sidewalk.
"Wow, nice save, Buffy," Fred remarked admiringly.
Buffy shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Slayer reflexes, I always knew they were good for something. Saving all those defenseless Christmas presents." Without even asking, she took some of Wesley's load from him. Wesley did not resist, only too happy not to be rendered a walking disaster.
"Wesley and I were going to go ahead and wait for the others to meet us at the restaurant. Do you wanna come? You look like you could get out of the cold too," Fred offered. She then frowned and said, "Is that all you've bought yet?"
"Huh?" Buffy was confused for a moment until she realized Fred had noticed her particular lack of bags, hers and Wesley's notwithstanding, save for one small black bag. "Oh, Jordan lent me this nifty shopping bag of hers. I call it my Mary Poppins Christmas Sack, well, until I get one of my own." She opened the bag to show a bunch of other bags stowed comfortably inside.
"That is nifty," Fred agreed, her hazel eyes alight with delight.
"Oh, look. I daresay Willow has decided to get there early too," Wesley interjected, pointing to the restaurant they were to meet in. They saw the familiar redhead with a few shopping bags swinging on her arm heading towards their meeting place. Also with her were two other people, one they recognized as Tonks and an older man they did not know.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm kinda itching to drink something hot," Buffy said, starting towards the restaurant. Fred and Wesley quickly followed her through the ankle-deep snow.
They stepped into the quaint little restaurant and voiced their relief at the warmth that engulfed them. They searched the crowd for the familiar redhead and her two companions and spotted her at a table in the far right corner. The three hustled over there and dumped their items on the floor beside their chairs.
"Hey guys," Willow greeted, pausing in her conversation with Tonks.
"Hey, Will. And Tonks…didn't expect to see you here," Buffy replied.
"Ah, well, I was out and about shopping with my father here. This is Chester Tonks, my father. Dad, meet Buffy Summers…I've already told you about her. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is the gentleman over there; he's a watcher," Tonks pointed out to the elder man beside her. She then grimaced apologetically at Fred and said, "And, erm, I'm sorry…I've forgotten what your name is."
"I'm Winifred Burkle, but you can call me Fred," Fred said cheerfully, holding out her hand to shake the hand of Tonks's father.
"It's lovely to meet you, Miss Burkle and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. And Miss Summers! It is such an honor to finally meet the brave young woman my daughter speaks of so highly!" As the man stood to shake Buffy's hand across the table, he knocked over his own glass of water and Tonks's. "Ooops! Terribly sorry; I'm afraid I'm a bit clumsy."
"Well, Tonks had to get it from somewhere," Willow quipped with a wry grin towards the small, pixie-faced Auror.
Tonks punched her lightly in the arm, but she couldn't help but to giggle slightly at the comment, which was undoubtedly true. Buffy, Wesley, and Fred exchanged knowing glances at the obvious flirtatious ambiance surrounding the two women. Buffy hoped something would spark between Tonks and Willow because, in her mind, the easy-going Auror would be the perfect person to help Willow forget Kennedy and head back on the dating track. It looks like she just might have gotten her wish.
"Where's Xander?" Willow asked.
Buffy shrugged and said, "We are here a tad early so I guess he won't show until about five to ten minutes late. I just wish he would have brought that mystery girlfriend with him."
"I thought he said there was nothing romantic between them," Wesley said in confusion.
Willow and Buffy both snorted and rolled their eyes. Willow shook her head and said, "He says that, but every time he talks about her I swear his eyes get all dreamy and love-struck."
"Oh yeah, that boy is totally smitten," Buffy muttered as a waiter walked up to their table.
"Can I get you anything?" the young man asked amiably.
"Um, for now I'll just have a cup of coffee," Buffy requested. She grinned apologetically and added, "I haven't totally warmed up to tea yet. Giles would be so disappointed; all this time I've spent over here and I'm still drinking coffee."
"Two cups of tea for the two of us," Wesley told him, referring to himself and his girlfriend. The waiter jotted it all down on his pad of paper and went off to bring their drinks.
"Mr. Tonks is coming to the Christmas party at Jordan and Aidan's house this weekend," Willow told Buffy, Fred, and Wesley.
"Who isn't coming? I swear that girl must have invited half of Hogwarts including all the slayers there and a few abroad. It's a good thing their place is huge," Buffy said.
"Ah, my wife wanted me to come along. I am quite glad there will be a lot of non-magic folk there so I won't feel so out of place. This should be quite a treat though, eh? I haven't been to many magical holiday parties in a long time. Not since Dora was a little girl," Mr. Tonks said jovially.
Buffy quirked an eyebrow and said in amusement, "Dora?"
"It's better than my real name," Tonks explained. "My mum thought the name 'Nymphadora' was so sweet and magical sounding." The woman shook her head despairingly while her father just laughed.
"It could be worse. He could call you 'Nymphy'," Fred joked.
Everyone missed the suggestive gleam in Willow's dark green eyes sparked by that seemingly harmless remark.
Maybe she was just going crazy or some cosmic force in this damnable castle was making the corridors go the wrong way. Jordan cursed in frustration as she again made a wrong turn to the dormitories and stomped her foot. What the hell was wrong with her? These were her dorms that she was trying to get to and she always knew the way from practically every angle. While her sense of direction was not without error, she should have found the portrait of the Fat Lady by now.
"Fine. Be that way. I'll just sleep here," she declared stubbornly, while sliding down to the floor. The pounding in her head, present since morning, had subsided just slightly. She had been fighting an inner immunity battle with the flu and it seemed she was losing. Her head felt like there was a hammer pounding away at it, she was dizzy and lightheaded, her skin was cold and clammy, and she was freezing. That was a surefire sign that she was getting sick because Jordan usually handled cold very well.
The dizziness in her head persisted even when she sat down and put her head between her knees to try and abate it. All she could think about was the alluring warmth and comfort of her own bed nestled within the cozy sanctuary of the girls' dormitories. She was so engrossed in trying to mentally force her dizzying headache away by thinking of her bed that she failed to detect the sound of footsteps coming towards her.
Draco Malfoy frowned in puzzlement and concern when he saw the Gryffindor slayer-witch sitting upon the cold, stone ground of the Hogwarts corridors with her head bent low upon her knees. Although he would like to make himself think he didn't care and pass her by without a second glance, he couldn't help but be curious and a little concerned. What did she think she was doing?
"What are you doing?" he asked in curious amusement.
Jordan sighed in annoyance at the familiar voice and slowly lifted her head up. "Trying to talk to the tiny invisible people on the floor. What are you doing?" she snapped.
Draco bit back his retort when he noticed the sweaty pallor of her fair skin, her trembling form, and the haziness of her honey eyes. She did not look very well to him at all, though he was no medi-wizard. He slowly approached her and kneeled down to her level and Jordan, surprisingly, did not try and stop him. He tried to shut out the pleasant scent he couldn't name emanating off of her, which sent his hormones into overdrive. Why was he so bloody attracted to this girl?
"Jordan, you don't look very well," he pointed out, hoping she wouldn't slug him or anything. "Why are you sitting here? Shouldn't you be in your dormitory?"
Either the fever was making her hallucinate or Jordan was actually hearing Draco voice subtle concern for her. She looked at him suspiciously, but failed to find any clues on his face for an ulterior motive. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then she must have been soul-blind. It would be nice if everyone were an open-book like Ron was. She averted her gaze sheepishly when he noticed her studying him and instead tried to form an answer to his question. Yes, she should be up in her bed in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory and she would love nothing more than to do just that. Only she would have to find them first. She didn't want to admit her obvious state of being lost to the Slytherin boy because it would be far too embarrassing.
"Um, I'll get to the dorms. When my head stops spinning, I will get up and be on my way," she finally said, hoping he couldn't tell she was bluffing.
Draco sighed and held out his hand. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he helping her? He was Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake, a decorated member in the ranks of the House of Slytherin! He should not stoop so low to help out a Gryffindor girl whether she was of prestigious background or not. Yet, his hand acted without his consent and stretched out to offer the sickly-looking girl up. Besides, it felt wrong to leave her here, sick as she was, out in the cold.
Jordan raised an eyebrow at his proffered hand. Draco groaned in impatience and said, "Come on. I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey."
"Oh, no, that's really not necessary. She's not allowed to give us slayers too many potions anyway unless it's absolutely necessary. Something about our immune systems or whatnot, I really don't recall. I'll just go to my dorms. Besides, we're all going home for Christmas vacation tomorrow anyway. No sense in spending the night in the hospital wing," Jordan told him nervously.
"Fine, I'll lead you back to your dormitory then. If you're as dizzy as you look, then it isn't smart to go traipsing around here; you could fall," Draco persisted, taking her hand without even a by-your-leave.
Jordan's eyes lit up. Hot damn! He knows the way back. Yay for me! She let him haul her to her feet and lead her carefully by the arm towards her dormitory. He held on tight enough to be aware of if she were going to suddenly pass out on him to give him ample time to stave off a fall, but his hold was loose enough that it did not give her any misguided notions of his intentions. How he knew the way to the Gryffindor dorms, she didn't know nor did she care particularly at the moment. Perhaps it was because he was a Prefect or perhaps not…what did it matter right now? In fact, she was starting to like the feel of his hand on her arm….stop it, Jordan! No time or place for naughty thoughts.
As they ascended the steps up to the beacon-like portrait of the Fat Lady who was all decked out in Christmas decorum Jordan suddenly remembered that she didn't know the password. Like she forgot her way to the dorms, she had forgotten the password to get in.
"Shit!" she blurted out aloud without meaning to.
Draco started at her profane outburst and stared at her in perplexity. "What?"
Jordan would have smacked herself in the forehead were her head not already feeling like it was going to crack in two. "I forgot the damn password. This is just great! We came all this way for nothing, unless you happen to know the password for some obscure reason."
Draco shook his head apologetically while saying, "Sorry."
The problem of the forgotten password was solved when the portrait swung open and the tall form of Jordan's twin stepped out with an anxious expression on his face. Aidan instantly sighed in relief when he saw his sister, but then he frowned when he noticed whom she was with and that that certain someone was holding onto her arm.
"Jordan, where the hell have you been? You know you're not supposed to be out and walking about with that flu. You shouldn't have even gone to classes today," Aidan chided in a very cross tone.
Jordan wrinkled her nose in indignation at her brother's treatment of her as if she were some errant child. Just who did he think he was? Their father? Did he forget just who spent three and half more minutes in this world? "Excuse me, Dad. I do believe I'm old enough to take care of myself. And as you can see, I was on my way back. I just needed a little help."
Aidan regretted his fractious attitude towards his sister, but he was only acting out in relief that she was okay. His features softened when he noticed how ashen and exhausted she looked and he stepped forward to take her from Draco's care. "Sorry, I was just a bit worried about you. Come on, I'll help you inside."
Jordan shook off his grasp and shot him a scathing glower. "I'm fine now. I don't need your help," she snapped brusquely, pushing past him and inside the portrait, slamming it shut behind her.
The Fat Lady shrieked as she banged heavily against the wall and said, "Well, someone's in a rather tetchy mood."
Aidan groaned and ran a hand through his auburn hair. It was official, he was turning into his father as his mother always warned him he would. After a moment of silent self-chastisement, he turned his sharp gaze onto his sister's escort.
"Well, I guess I'm not needed any longer," the Slytherin boy remarked, his silver-blue eyes still trained on where Jordan had left them.
Aidan was not about to let this arrogant bastard off the hook. He had let his reservations about the Slytherin prince go on inside his head in silence for far too long. He grabbed Draco by the shoulder and forced the shorter, platinum-haired boy to face him and see the hard look on his face.
"What are you playing at, Firewell?" Draco said, slapping Aidan's hand away.
"Funny, you call me and just about everyone else in Gryffindor by their last names, but yet you tend to address my twin sister by her first name," Aidan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and derision.
Draco's eyes flashed dangerously, but he forced his face to remain neutral as well as his voice as he replied, "So?"
Aidan glared at him and flexed his muscles. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at my sister. I notice it when every guy looks at her that way."
Draco's mouth curled up into a malicious smile. "Oh, you do, do you? What, think she can't handle herself or something, big brother? She's a bloody vampire slayer, for Merlin's sake! And you also have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh please, I know exactly what I'm talking about and you do too. Normally, I wouldn't do anything about boys staring at my sister in that way because it can't be helped, I admit that. She is, after all, an attractive girl. And I know she can handle herself, which is why I don't do the whole 'protective big brother' act often. But then again, all the rest of the guys haven't been ass-kissers of Voldemort." Aidan's voice, normally so good-natured and light, had adopted a hard, merciless attitude, succeeding in making Draco a bit nervous. But Draco was well trained in the art of masking emotions and he performed spectacularly in concealing his emotions under a mask of impassiveness. The tone of his voice, however, betrayed exactly what he was feeling.
Draco's voice was cold and deadly as he said, "You better watch what you're saying, Yank."
Aidan fought the urge to punch the son of a bitch right in that sharp, pale nose of his. "I know what you are, Malfoy and I know what your family is. I bet your incarcerated father and the rest of your Death Eater family would just love you to hand one of the daughters of a powerful dark wizard-catching family up to the dark lord. Be a nice trophy, wouldn't she? Boost the Malfoy name up a bit more in the eyes of Snake-Face? Not as good as Harry Potter, but nicer to look at. I mean, your family is already responsible for the death of one Firewell…. hell, why not add another to the quota?"
Now Draco was a tad confused. His family was responsible for the death of a Firewell Auror? "What are you talking about?"
"What? Daddy never bragged to you about killing my grandfather? I even heard your sister got to stand there and watch…as young as she was at the time. Of course, your father was acquitted of all charges, but everyone knows he's guilty. Almost pinned it all on Snape," Aidan spat in mingled anger, resentment, and disgust.
Draco could not suppress the expression of stark shock on his face and Aidan was taken aback by it. He had expected the boy to know of these things, but it was apparent that he hadn't. Instead, he heard the small weak whisper of a voice intoning, "He…forced Senna to watch? Oh my god."
Draco knew well how many different methods his father would employ to torture and subsequently murder a person though he never witnessed them and was quite glad he never attained the privilege to. But he had heard enough of those particular exploits to know how brutal and gruesome those acts tended to be. The fact that his father had had Senna, a mere child younger than the first years of Hogwarts at the time of Christopher Firewell's death, witness such a grotesque proceeding was…. horrific. It served to fan the fires of Draco's intense hatred of his father even more. And it made him mourn over his sister even more. You do not include children in such macabre acts; even Draco understood that. It seemed his father had not.
Aidan was bewildered at the looks of horror, disgust, and painful grief upon Draco's face. Could it be possible this boy was not the Death Eater to be as Aidan had previously believed? He then dismissed the idle thought and carried on with his warning. "Malfoy, I'm going to warn you once. Stay away from Jordan. I will not hesitate to beat the shit out of you if you ever hurt her or make one threatening move towards her. And if she gets hurt because of you…I'll kill you. I swear on my grandfather's grave I will."
It took those foreboding words to shake Draco from a painful reverie and into defensive mode. "Firewell, get over yourself. Jordan's a big girl; she can make decisions for herself, if there were any to be made in this aspect. Which, contrary to what you believe, there isn't. You don't have to worry about your precious twin; I'm no danger to her."
Aidan huffed and turned back towards the portrait of the Fat Lady who was watching them both warily.
Draco heard the boy say in a threatening and final voice, "You better not be."
Xander picked lint off of his dark red sweater while standing in front of the mirror and inspecting himself before he flooed to the party at the Firewell manor. His black hair was styled with a wizarding type styling gel he had picked up at Diagon Alley and he was even wearing a wizarding type cologne that changed its scent periodically.
He sighed when he saw the slight bulge of his stomach and despaired over the many different entrées he was going to stuff himself with in about thirty minutes. Stupid wizards and their damn good cooking skills. Where the hell is that good metabolism my uncle promised me? His depressed expression was alleviated immediately by the voice of his "not-girlfriend", Fleur Delacour, as she knocked on his door. She must have just made it by apparition to the modest dwelling in Bath he had acquired for himself and Willow with no small amount of help from the insurmountable Council assets. They were only a few miles away from Giles's flat where Buffy and Dawn were staying for the holidays and probably during the summer.
"Oh, come in, Fleur. I'm dressed," he assured the French witch.
He heard the creek of his bedroom door and the barely perceived taps of Fleur's dainty feet on the carpet. He turned to greet her, but stopped short at the sight of the beautiful young woman. If he had thought her beautiful before, it was beyond that now. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse pounded his veins as it sped up without warning. The part-Veela witch was elegantly swathed in a crimson red dress, the ends of which brushed lightly against her knees, exposing her smooth, pale and faintly glowing calves. Her feet were painfully encased within the seemingly tight straps of black high-heeled shoes that only women seemed to be able to traverse grounds in without breaking their ankles. A matching red scarf with ends that hung off each crook of her elbow covered her shoulders.
Fleur's golden hair was pulled back with sparkling barrettes and golden strands hung down to frame her lovely face. Her face was subtly touched up with make up that enhanced her already impressive and radiant beauty. She grinned at Xander's slack-jawed gawking.
"I take it you like my outfit. I got the idea from a Muggle catalogue and I had a Muggle-born friend of mine help me put it on," she explained.
Xander's vocal cords must have been paralyzed temporarily because he was not able to form intelligible words at the moment. He just stood there babbling quietly for a bit before getting hold of himself. "You…you did this for me?"
"Merry Christmas," she said happily. "Of course, I did get you a more suitable present, but I thought you might like this."
Xander nodded, his brown eyes still as large as saucers. "Oh yes, Xander like. Xander like very much."
He really hoped she was open to the idea of bumping their relationship up from its current friendship status to a more intimate level. He thought about her more and more everyday and could think of nothing better than taking the next step with her, that is, if she were willing to take the step with him. He heard her talk about Bill Weasley, one of Ron's many elder brothers, from her work often, but he got the impression she was only friends with him or she only meant to be friends with him. Bill was probably of the same mind as Xander in this aspect, but the Scooby member hoped he would be the one to win Fleur's affections.
"We match," he heard Fleur say. At first he was confused at that remark, but then he remembered he was wearing a red sweater nearly the same shade as her dress. What a coincidence. Maybe it's a sign, he mused sardonically.
"Well, since we're ready, I guess we can head to the party," Xander suggested casually.
"I'm so glad to finally be meeting your friends. And I can't wait to see Harry again. He's such a sweet boy," Fleur said, following Xander out the door. He paused before throwing some floo powder on the crackling fireplace and looked at the young woman with him.
"Are you sure you wanna floo? I mean, you might mess up your outfit," he warned.
Fleur looked down at her outfit and furrowed her brow in realization. "Oh, I guess we could portkey there. Here, let me charm one."
She took the empty bowl on the counter top and pointed her wand out it while intoning, "Portus." She then took Xander's hand and they both held onto the bowl until it was activated and they were sent to the Firewell manor in Katsmorn, Montana.
The pair arrived right in the middle of the large foyer amidst the myriad of house elves being directed by Springer. The small creatures were carrying an assortment of party accoutrements including appetizers, which Xander was only too happy to accept.
"Welcome sir and miss. Springer is happy to be at your service!" the Firewells' house elf squeaked.
"Cool, um, we'll just make our way to wherever everyone else is. Where are they?" Xander asked.
"Comes this way, I will shows you," Springer told them, beckoning to the young man and woman.
They followed the house elf into the living room where a crowd of people Xander did not recognize was gathered together. He saw Willow sitting on the couch talking with Tonks—big surprise there, Xander thought to himself sarcastically. Buffy, Faith, and Giles were talking amongst themselves by the fireplace and Dawn was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but he figured wherever Harry was Dawn wouldn't be too far off.
As soon as Buffy noticed that Xander had arrived, she tapped her two companions on the shoulder to alert them. The long-awaited time had come for them to finally lay eyes upon this mystery girl. When Buffy did lay her eyes on this mystery girl her jaw dropped and she barely realized she was not the only one gawking slightly at the young woman.
"Holy shit. Is that Xander's girlfriend? I might just have to change my ways," Faith quipped as she too looked upon her friend's date.
"She is a …lovely girl, isn't she?" Giles commented absently, adjusting his glasses to get a better look.
"Lovely? Kirsten Dunst is lovely; this girl makes the rest of us look like hags," Buffy said.
"B, I don't think she's all human. You feel the vibe coming off of her?" Faith pointed out in concern.
Buffy slowly nodded her head to show that she did indeed feel the strange, subtle sensation this girl gave the small, blonde slayer. She glided forward towards Xander as he and the girl were coming to meet them, they met halfway and Xander's face split into a wide grin.
"Hey, Buff! Faith, Giles, this is Fleur Delacour. She's from France," he introduced Fleur, who smiled shyly at the three people who were staring intently at her.
The young woman swallowed her trepidation and held out her hand in goodwill to the petite blonde woman who was looking at her with shrewd blue-green eyes. "I have been very anxious to meet you, Buffy. I heard so much of you from Xander in his letters and from the papers. I know you probably get this a lot, but thank you for coming to help the Wizarding World out. We really need you and your slayers."
Buffy realized she had been making the girl very uncomfortable with her staring so she plastered on a smile and shook her hand. While she didn't feel inherently evil and there seemed to be no ill intent in those fathomless azure eyes, Buffy was still wary of her. Maybe she was just being a little over-protective of Xander, but she could not shake the feeling of something being a little strange about Fleur. As Fleur greeted Giles and Faith, Buffy took the time to study the woman and the way men seemed to goggle at her from all angles. She had the type of body all women strive to attain but never could seem to keep. And the weird thing was, she wasn't as gaunt or skinny as super models tended to be. She actually had a body to be proud of that didn't seem like one had to starve herself to look that way. Her hair was a finer gold than Buffy's was and was longer and fuller. Yep. This slayer sure felt inadequate standing next to her.
Buffy was startled at the sound of Harry's voice saying, "Fleur?" in recognition. Both she and her sister slayer watched the dark-haired boy, surprise evident in his emerald eyes, walk over to where they stood in the middle of the living room. Dawn, Ron, and Hermione trailed after him and she noticed that Harry's two best friends recognized the girl as well.
"Harry! Surprised?" Fleur greeted them. "Hello, Ron. Hello, Hermione. Bill tells me you two are more than just friends now."
Ron and Hermione both blushed at Fleur's foreknowledge of their relationship, but smiled at her beaming face. Hermione noticed Ron was doing a lot better at keeping his eyes off of the elder, prettier witch although they did stray from time to time. Dawn seemed particularly annoyed by Harry's lustful gazing at the blonde woman. Hermione would have to explain about Fleur's uniqueness later to prevent a problem from arising.
"You were the woman Xander was talking about?" Ron queried in awe.
Fleur and Xander nodded while Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Dawn, beginning to get extremely pissed off at her boyfriend, jabbed him in the arm while drawling, "Gee, Xand, notice every other guy in here is eyeing her like a piece of meat?"
"Dawn!" Buffy scolded in shock. Of course they all could see that, but it wasn't something one said right in front of the person being stared at.
"Oh, it is okay. I am used to it. It is a little side effect from being one-quarter Veela. My grandmother was a full-blood one," Fleur explained, not noticing how much more confused she made some of them.
"What's a Veela?" Faith asked.
Hermione jumped at the chance to play teacher once again before Fleur could open her mouth and assured the two slayers and the elderly watcher that Veelas were not evil creatures. Seeming satisfied by the explanation and no longer worried over Xander's safety Buffy warmed up a lot more towards Fleur and went to fetch Willow away from her conversation with Tonks.
"Oh my god. That's her?" Willow asked incredulously when Buffy finally got her attention and forced her to look aside from Tonks's face. "Goddess, I hope he's willing to share." She didn't see Tonks's crestfallen face at that remark.
"She's a quarter Veela, which apparently is not a demon," Buffy explained. "And she's actually kinda nice."
Willow smiled and shook her head. "Well, isn't that a surprise?" She stood up from the couch and sighed, "Well, I have to give her the BFCE to make sure she's good enough for our Xander."
"BFCE?" Tonks questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Best Friend Cross-Examination. Just cuz she's not a demon doesn't mean she's not evil," Willow clarified.
Tonks looked at Buffy with an expression that said, What? Buffy merely shrugged and replied, "She's known him longer than I have. And Will, they're technically not dating…yet."
"Trust me, Buffy, it doesn't look like it'll be long before it will," Willow retorted with a large amount of conviction.
Buffy could only roll her eyes as the redheaded Wicca stalked ahead towards the group of people with Xander and his new friend in the thick of it. Dawn and Harry were no longer with the group, which had Buffy slightly worried. She did trust her sister to protect her honor; truly she did. But she remembered well how enticing the opposite sex had been when she had been Dawn's age. And Buffy did not overlook the fact that she had lost her own virginity at the age of seventeen, leading to consequences far more dire than the norm.
"Now where did those two get off to?" She sighed in annoyance and walked off to find her sister.
Harry had been dragged out of the living room by his incensed girlfriend and now found himself standing right outside the dimly lit library of the Firewells. Dawn was currently glaring at him and tapping her foot impatiently, which left poor Harry to wonder over what he had done wrong.
"All right, I give up. What did I do to piss you off?" Harry finally asked in an exasperated tone.
"Think, Harry. Think real hard," Dawn snapped angrily.
Harry did think; real hard just as his lady bid him to, but he could not think of anything he had done recently to make Dawn so angry. Finally, the girl got tired of awaiting her boyfriend's answer and subsequent apology.
"Let me help you out. How about you ogling Fleur like you wanted to frisk her?" she spat, letting bitter anger rise to the forefront.
Harry recoiled in indignation and slight guilt, for he had been doing a bit more staring than was prudent. But it wasn't as if it were his fault. This was Fleur Delacour they were talking about for one thing. And for another thing: He was a guy for Merlin's sake! Even Jordan had spoken of no longer getting angry when past boyfriends had stared at other girls.
"It's a guy thing, it can't be helped. What was I supposed to do? Blame them for doing what it is in their nature to do? Hell, I stared at other guys when I was dating. It's not like we're married or anything. All bets are off if you're not married or engaged; you're not committed. Now, it is kind of stupid to go kiss someone else when you are dating if you want the relationship to last. I like to think of it as a courtesy to just stick with the one person, but don't take my word for it. I'm pretty much the only one in the group without a boyfriend."
If only Dawn saw it that way, but apparently she didn't. She continued to rant about how Harry had been lax in his attention towards her of late while he just stood there. They were interrupted by the faint sounds of someone weeping in the library. It shut Dawn up right quick and sent them both creeping cautiously into the library. They found Ginny sitting in the corner with her knees pulled up tight against her chest, her arms crossed across her knees, and her face buried beneath her arms as her slight body shook with sobs.
"Ginny?" Harry asked softly. "What's the matter?"
The small redhead looked up and sniffled when she saw Harry and Dawn. Her blotchy hazel eyes welled with more tears and she tried in vain to wipe them away. Dawn advanced closer and knelt to her level, her face having completely lost all trace of anger and resentment to be replaced with compassion and sympathy.
"Ginny? Why are you crying?" she queried, reaching out to lay a sympathetic hand on the other girl's shoulder.
Ginny just shook her head to show that she didn't want to talk about it, but Dawn continued to press. Finally, Ginny sighed and said in a cracked voice, "Dean just broke up with me. And he told me…he told me…" It seemed she couldn't finish before she started to cry again. "Was it something I did? Did I make him that way? Am I really so despicable that I drive my boyfriend into the arms of another boy?"
Dawn and Harry then realized Dean must have finally confessed to her about his relationship with the Ravenclaw boy, Louis. The poor girl thought it was all her fault and was now sitting here crying her eyes out over it. Dean was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is Dean?" Harry asked, feeling supremely angry that his roommate would choose to tell her now and here of all places. He should have told her a long time ago and there were times when Harry nearly told Ginny himself, but he forced himself to stay out of it. Now, he wished he hadn't.
"I told him to go away and to leave me alone for awhile. He…he didn't want to leave me alone, but he left anyway," the miserable girl replied.
Dawn merely sighed and slid over to sit beside Ginny and wrap and arm around her shoulders. "Gin, honey, it's not your fault Dean is gay. It's not even Dean's fault. It's just the way things are," she said, trying to comfort the crying girl.
Ginny looked away from Dawn's kind gaze and continued to cry pitifully causing Harry's heart to rend in two. He loved this girl like a sister and he was pissed off enough to kill Dean. When Ron found out, provided he was not too awkward over it all, he probably would kill Dean.
"Why didn't he tell me earlier? Why did he wait so long?" Ginny moaned between hiccups.
Dawn didn't really have a satisfactory answer for her. "I don't know, Ginny. He was scared, I guess. I mean, who wouldn't be? I don't know how homosexuality is regarded in this world, but in the Muggle world a lot of times gays are treated quite badly."
This seemed to only make Ginny cry harder over Dean's predicament and her own. She had thought things were going perfectly up until a few weeks ago when he had started acting really skittish around her. Now that everything was out in the open she kept wondering over how she had not noticed. Maybe she had noticed but had thrown herself into denial so well she had let herself forget. And on top of it all, she still had feelings for the dark-skinned boy. She kept telling herself she should hate him and everything about him. She kept telling herself that she should be too angry with him to speak his name, but she was only a little angry with him and she couldn't hate him. She was just feeling so confused and depressed right now.
"Do you wanna come out of here and go for a walk outside? Maybe get some air to clear your head and a nice drink of butterbeer?" Dawn asked hesitantly.
Ginny drew a shuddering breath and shook her head. "I just want to be alone for a while, okay?"
Dawn nodded and rose to her feet. She took hold of Harry's hand and he let himself be reluctantly pulled away from his psuedo-sister. When they stepped outside the library, he punched the wall in fury and turned to face Dawn.
"I knew we should have told her! Why did you make us wait for him to tell her? Look what's happened!" he yelled.
"Harry! Shut up! She probably can hear us. Come on," Dawn walked down the hallway and stepped opened a sliding glass door to step out into the frigid air of a second-story veranda. She shut the glass door shut and then gestured for Harry to proceed in his outburst. He, however, seemed perfectly content to glare at the ground.
"It was none of our business, Harry," Dawn told him sternly. "Besides, I don't think things would have been much different had Dean told her a few weeks ago anyway."
"Well, at least it wouldn't have been here in the middle of a bloody Christmas party!" Harry spat in disgust. "I can't believe that wanker!"
"What are you going to do? Track him down and kick his ass?" Dawn asked bemusedly.
"Maybe I should kick his arse. I certainly feel like doing it," Harry replied shortly, his voice a lot quieter now.
"Yeah, and it'll just solve everything won't it? What is it with you boys and thinking beating something up will solve a problem?"
Harry didn't answer, but started pacing on the deck cursing Dean's name over and over. Dawn stood there looking at the scenery around them. Most of the trees were coniferous so they still boasted their green needle leaves unlike their deciduous cousins who had lost all of their leaves by now. The stars and the moon shone brightly in the clear night sky and illuminated the rugged landscape around them. The Firewell manor was nestled safe in its own vale within the mountains and she realized how lucky Jordan and Aidan had been to grow up here. Dawn had lived in the city of Los Angeles for most of her life and Sunnydale, while more rural than Los Angeles had been, was a far cry from a mountainous way of life.
"Wow, it's really beautiful out here," Dawn remarked out of the blue in spite of the situation. She forgot momentarily about the extremely cold air and the fact that she would be forced to go inside soon because of it. She walked up to Harry's tense form and enveloped her hand within his and huddled close to him, reveling in his body warmth.
Harry felt a sudden heat rise up inside him and his anger from moments before disappeared for the time being as he looked into Dawn's entranced blue eyes. How could he have even thought of being mad at her before? He leaned in to brush his lips against hers and she met him willingly. The kiss deepened as they both explored the mouth of the other that they already knew so well and soon their hands were groping about each other's bodies. When Harry's hands started to slide up Dawn's sweater, someone cleared his throat. That someone didn't sound extremely thrilled to find them this way.
"Boy, if you value those hands of yours, I'd suggest you remove them from Nibblet right now," Spikeordered in an extremely displeased voice. He was standing right outside the sliding door that neither Dawn nor Harry had heard being opened due to being thus preoccupied.
Harry and Dawn jumped away from each other and looked down at their feet as the vampire approached them. Harry frantically wiped Dawn's smeared lipstick off of his face and cursed the fact that she had to wear the stuff all the time. Both of them looked up with sheepish gazes at the piercing glare of Spike.
"Hi, Spike," Dawn stuttered, her kiss-swollen lips pursing together in distress.
"Hello, Lil' Bit. Getting a bit friendly out here, aren't we?" Spike was standing ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed in his standard long, black leather duster, but his shirt was green with the red-written words saying, "One day of coal. 364 days of fun. I'll take my chances." His pants were black and his hair was, as usual, the same slicked back platinum blonde.
Harry was too petrified by the vampire who acted as Dawn's foster brother to speak in defense of himself. He was actually trying to work at calming himself down in another place that had started to become a little bit excited. He hoped to god this vampire wouldn't notice.
"Well, it is a bit cold out here. Can see why you two would be wantin' to get warm. But I can solve that problem without having to resort to other methods. Why don't you come inside?" Spike walked behind the couple and clasped them both on the shoulders.
He steered the two towards the sliding door and pushed Harry inside first. Then he turned to the distressed Dawn and sighed. "Dawn, could you at least wait until you're eighteen? That's all I ask."
"What? It wasn't going to lead to anything! We were just making out!" Dawn retorted shrilly knowing full well that had Spike not interrupted when he did, it might have just led to that particularly something.
"Yeah, but that little snog was looking to turn over to shagging very soon. You have to watch out for that, Nibblet. Once you start, it's very hard to stop…believe me." Spike's grim face was very serious and Dawn felt shamed in his eyes.
"Look, I'm sorry. We just got caught up in the moment. I'll try not to let it happen again," Dawn assured him. "Don't tell Buffy. Please, Spike?"
Spike rubbed his temples and then patted Dawn's shoulder. "Secret's safe with me, love. You're gonna have to be the one to call the shots in this aspect, Nibblet. You lasses are a lot better at forgoing sex than us hormone-machines. I swear, you lot are like bloody camels," he said to her, shaking his head. "What I'm saying is, you should wait until all this rubbish with Voldemort is over with. The last thing we need is you getting knocked up by the Boy Who Bleedin' Lived with this damn war going on."
Dawn stared at him in perplexity at that remark, but allowed him to lead her inside and slide the door to the deck shut. Harry was waiting for her in the hallway and stiffened in fear at Spike's glower.
"You need to watch those hands, mate, if you want to keep 'em," Spike warned him.
Harry nodded faintly while gulping down the stone in his throat. He slumped against the wall in relief when the vampire left the two of them. Dawn came to lean against the wall beside him.
"Sorry about that. He was just being—"
"Insanely paranoid?" Harry ventured, breathing heavily.
"Well, we were getting wicked heavy back there. It's probably a good thing he caught us before it got any heavier. I mean, we don't even have any…erm…protection," Dawn pointed out, reddening in embarrassment.
Harry snorted slightly and thought about what might have happened had Spike not intervened. He looked at Dawn and took her hand. "Well, it'll happen sooner or later."
Dawn smiled cheekily and whispered, "What makes you so sure?"
Harry grinned slyly. "You can't resist my charms for much longer," he joked.
Dawn snorted and slapped him lightly on the arm. "Arrogant prat."
"Ma petite, you are not looking so well. I think you should listen to your mother and go up to bed," Jordan's grandfather advised, his French accent heavier after he had a few shots of whiskey.
Jordan still was not feeling any better than she had yesterday. In fact, she was feeling quite worse, but was not willing to forsake the party and the chance to reunite with some of her friends from Cristallon just because of the pesky flu. Her mother's father, Jacques Cordreux, had been urging her to heed her mother's advice for the past hour and go to bed. She even replied once in that childish tone while saying, "I don't wanna."
Usually, whenever her mother's parents visited, Jordan and her family would all be conversing in French with them. She and all her cousins on her mother's side had learned the language at a young age as a tribute to their French heritage. Her grandfather had been born and raised in France and her grandmother, Lorraine Cordreux, was French-Canadian. Although she was marginally fluent she was not up to the task of speaking in a foreign language when her head felt so heavy. Well, at least the lightheaded feeling was gone.
"Grandpa, I'm fine. I'm a slayer, we're tough," she said, her voice lacking conviction. Goddamn this room is hot! I'm sweating like a pig. Her grandfather, able to read her as well as her mother and brother could, shook his head and laid a hand on her forehead.
"You are burning up, ma petite. Come, I shall take you to bed. Your mother would not be pleased if I let you stay here to pass out on the floor," Mr. Cordreux pressed, taking her arm.
"I am not going to pass out," Jordan assured the elderly man.
"Jordan, this is the last time I'm going to tell you. Go to bed," she heard her mother command behind her. "You're not helping any of your friends by staying down here spreading your illness. And you most certainly aren't helping yourself."
She looked over wistfully at Aidan and a group of her Cristallon friends huddled around him. And she spotted some of her Hogwarts pals amongst a myriad of friends, strangers, and family members. "Fine. You win; I'll go. But I have to warn you…I'm going to piss and moan about it the whole way up."
"Honey, you can do that all you wish as long as you get your rear in that bed and under the covers. I'll send Springer up with some of your Grandmother's infusions and soup later." Mrs. Firewell kissed her daughter on her flushed forehead and frowned in worry at the hot, sweaty skin.
"Aurora, I will take her up. Do not worry, I will make sure she stays in bed if I have to restrain her," Mr. Cordreux joked.
"Grandpa, slayer, remember?" Jordan reminded him dryly.
"I did not say I would restrain you physically," he replied casually, patting the pocket where his wand was kept.
"Do what you must, Papa," Mrs. Firewell mumbled, before kissing her daughter goodnight and going back to cater to her guests.
Jordan rolled her eyes and told her grandfather to wait a moment so she could bid all her friends goodnight. After receiving some well wishes as to her health and a snide remark from one of her ex-boyfriends—who remained her best friend—pertaining to joining her in bed she let her slightly inebriated grandfather lead her up the stairs to her bedroom. As soon as she got inside, she barely had kicked off her shoes before sinking onto the soft mattress and feeling her blanket drape over her. She barely heard her grandfather say goodnight in French before he shut the door softly behind him. It wasn't long before the spinning in the young slayer's head stopped as she drifted off into a deep slumber.
Downstairs, the Christmas party continued on into the late hours of the night. Lorne, decked out in a flashy suit of red (his green skin taking care of the other Christmas color for him), was standing upon a makeshift platform playing holiday tunes on a glossy black grand piano. Drunken party goers were standing up there with their martini glasses in hand singing broken versions of Christmas songs. Spectators watched in amusement while throwing out requests for songs and odd dances from certain individuals.
Hermione watched the butterbeer in her glass swirl around languorously as her eyes flitted around the room from person to person. She had met some of Jordan and Aidan's friends from Cristallon and she could safely say now that they were, for lack of a better term, slightly weird. She could have sworn the boy decked out in Gothic clothes and wearing the dark eye shadow and black lipstick that was Jordan's most recent ex had been hitting on as many guys as he had been hitting on girls. And then there was that one friend who demanded everyone call him Axl Rose for some odd reason.
They were nice, no doubt about that, but Hermione wasn't sure if she felt totally comfortable around them. Ron and Dawn seemed to take to them quite nicely and she was now awaiting Ron's return from a chess match in one of the sitting rooms with a couple of those American witches and wizards. Harry was back there as well, giving his support to Ron. Having witnessed Ron in an endless amount of chess matches and winning ninety-nine out of one hundred of them, she declined the offer to watch.
She felt someone tap her on the shoulder and turned around to see, much to her surprise, Jordan standing there. She was wearing a thick, silver winter coat and had a knit cap on her head.
"What are you doing down here? Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Hermione asked.
Jordan shrugged and smiled. "I gave myself a home remedy. Now, I kinda feel like taking a walk outside. You wanna come?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow at her friend. "I don't think that's really wise, Jordan. You were sporting a pretty high fever."
Jordan rolled her eyes, took off her cap, and grabbed Hermione's hand to put against her forehead. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise when she didn't feel the burning heat of a fever. In fact, Jordan seemed a lot better than she had a few hours ago. Her skin was no longer so waxy and sweaty and her eyes were not so glassy and hazed. Still, something was a bit off about her. Maybe it was just the medicine.
"See? All better," Jordan said cheerfully. "Come on, it's getting kinda cramped in here."
Hermione just sighed and went to get her coat, scarf, and hat. She stuffed her wand in the pocket of her coat and put on her gloves before walking out the door with her friend.
Ron clapped the back of his worthy opponent, his face flushed with the adrenaline of victory. The three rounds of the chess match with Greg, who was supposed to be called Axl, had resulted in Ron winning two of them. The last game, however, had been extremely close.
"You played a good game, mate," Ron told him.
"You too," the boy replied good-naturedly, shaking Ron's hand.
Harry came up and poked Ron in the back of his head while laughing. "Good job, Ron. I must say it was probably the most exciting game of wizard's chess that I've ever seen."
"Yeah, especially the part where Greg's—" Dawn earned a pointed clearing of the throat by the one called Greg, so she corrected herself, "I mean, Axl's queen started to sing some Christmas songs and a knight from your side attacked her just to shut her up."
"Poor stupid git," Ron muttered, shaking his head. He then looked around and said, "Anyone see where George and Vi went off to? Or for that matter, where the hell is Ginny? I haven't seen her for hours."
Harry and Dawn glanced at each other nervously. Dawn spoke up, "Um, I think I saw Ginny in the library last. And I have no idea where George and Vi went. I don't wanna know particularly either."
Ron nodded his head, seeing Dawn's point. "Yeah, I wouldn't either. Oh well, guess I'll go find Hermione then."
He walked into the living room hearing the sound of tipsy people trying to stay on key with the piano during "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." He saw Fleur chortling over some joke Xander must have told her over where he had last seen Hermione. He walked over to the couple and grinned at the garlands wrapped around their necks.
"Tis the season to be jolly," Xander explained to the tall redhead, his speech slightly slurred.
"Hi, Ron. Xander was just telling me some funny stories from when he lived in Sunnydale." Unlike her companion, Fleur seemed to be in perfect command of her speech and motor skills.
"Cool. Have you seen Hermione?" Ron queried.
Xander shook his head, but Fleur nodded hers. "I think I saw her go outside with…the girl that lives here…I can't remember her name."
"Jordan?" Ron asked in puzzlement.
"Yes, that's the one. The one with the auburn hair…or the younger one. I think her mother has the same color hair," Fleur said.
"I thought she was supposed to be in bed," Ron mused, too quiet for Fleur or Xander to hear.
He left the couple to their stories and walked over to where Aidan was talking with a statuesque brunette who was his cousin by the fireplace.
"Aidan, is Jordan out of bed by now?" Ron asked.
Aidan groaned and said, "She damn well better not be. My mother will kill her if she's not already killed herself with overexertion."
"Well, you might want to find her. Apparently, she's gone for a walk with Hermione outside," Ron told him grimly. "You would think Hermione would have told her to get her arse back in bed."
The brunette laughed. "Sounds just like Jordan. She never wants to admit it when she's sick."
Aidan rubbed his forehead in frustration and gritted his teeth. "Goddammit. She knows better than this. When I find her I'm going to—" He gasped suddenly and his face began to lose all semblance of color. His honey eyes widened in an emotion Ron could only define as fear. It made him very uneasy.
Aidan's cousin frowned at him. "Aidan? What is it?" the girl asked in concern.
Aidan's voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper as he said, "Something's wrong."
Hermione was beginning to get extremely worried when Jordan did not answer her questions as to where they were going, but continued to plow ahead through the forest. She had said she wanted to show Hermione this really cool hot spring and the fort she had built with her brother when they were kids.
"Jordan, I know you said you feel better. But this can't be good for your health, being outside this long. And may I add, you are acting very strange," Hermione said, hopping over a tree root.
Walking through this forest, which bore a startling resemblance to the Forbidden Forest surrounding Hogwarts, awakened memories of past school years when Hermione had spent time in the Forbidden Forest. Many of them were less than pleasant and she was feeling trepidation rise within her now as she navigated through the woods.
"Come on, Hermione. Be a sport, it's just a little further," Jordan told her, not turning around.
Hermione groaned at the nonchalant tone in her friend's voice and quickened her pace to catch up with her. "Wait. Stop." She grabbed the girl's shoulder and forced her to turn around.
"What?" Jordan asked crossly.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Hermione asked carefully.
Jordan sighed irritably and vigorously nodded her head. "I'm fine, Hermione."
Hermione was not convinced, still thinking something was wrong with Jordan. The only reason she had continued to follow the girl was because she was worried about her. Now, she wanted to go back inside where other people dwelled. Out here she felt too exposed and isolated.
"I think we should go back," Hermione said firmly, her brown eyes serious.
Jordan's eyes were unreadable, but her mouth curled up into an odd grin as she said quietly, "What's the matter, Granger? Scared?"
Granger? She's never called me that before. Hermione furrowed her brow and looked Jordan straight in the eyes. "What's wrong with you? You're not acting like…you."
If she hadn't known any better, Hermione would have sworn she saw anticipation flare up in those honey eyes. Her slayer alarm system was now beginning to send a huge load of warnings; a few moments too late, they were. She could only gasp in surprise when she felt a sharp little prick on her arm. She hadn't seen Jordan's…or rather the fiend wearing Jordan's face…hand move to produce a syringe filled with a clear liquid and thrust it into her arm.
Hermione pushed the girl away and, breathing heavily, "What did you—" She halted in her speech when she felt the effects of the drug begin to take effect. She felt her slayer strength being quickly masked over by the drug and her limbs felt extremely heavy, too heavy for her to carry. She stumbled to the ground while other people began to materialize in the clearing where she and the other person disguised as Jordan were.
As Hermione and "Jordan" had been walking through the forest, Aidan had bolted across the living room towards the stairs with Ron and Aidan's cousin hot on his heels. The boy ran up the steps, traversing some of them by twos and threes, and ran down the hallway to his twin's bedroom. He didn't even stop to turn the knob, but kicked the door open. It swung open violently and banged against the wall with a solid thump.
Ron and Aidan's cousin came up behind him, panting heavily. "What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked.
The room and bed were completely empty with the only sign that someone had been in here by the bunched up covers of Jordan's bed. Ron seemed greatly encouraged by the empty bed because he had been slightly worried the person his girlfriend was with had been someone else.
"She's not here, Aidan," the brunette told him.
"Which means she's outside walking with Hermione," Ron added.
Aidan, however, seemed only more distressed at not finding his twin in her bed. He stood in the doorway, his troubled eyes roving over and over the room before running back down the hallway. Ron and the cousin stood there with perplexed moods on their faces, watching him turn the corner to go back downstairs. The brunette's face eventually transitioned from perplexed to fearful realization.
"Oh my god. Something's happened to Jordan," she murmured, horror filling her voice.
Ron's hazel eyes flashed with fear when he thought of his girlfriend, who was with Jordan at this moment. If something had happened to Jordan then something could have happened to Hermione.
"Hermione!"
Slayer In training: It's not like a person can become straight when they're gay. It doesn't work that way. Personally, I've always believed Willow to be a bisexual but with a preference towards girls. But I can't change it now. I like her and Tonks together.
TheChosenOne1987: You're welcome.
Silver Warrior: True, true. Although, maybe it's just my imagination working overtime, but did you sense some subtle hints towards a Harry/Ginny relationship in the books? Cuz I did.
matthew: Heh. That would be very funny, Ginny cheating on him with a girl, but sadly it's not happening in this story. But you'll get to see your precious Drusilla next chapter.
Lupus: Yeah, I never did like it when fanfic authors made Buffy perfect. I mean, you have to stick to the persona as best you can and I'm glad you understand about the crossover thing meaning I'm trying to cover everyone. It's not very easy. As for Sirius, I've put off dealing with that situation for the sequel. But I do love him and Buffy together. Faith and Remus probably won't happen though because I might keep her with Robin. Don't really know yet.
matt: Ah well, I'll be moving out soon to head to college. Anyhow, as for who's going to die, I won't say. I can't tell you if Vi will live or not, but I do like her character and that is always good for their health. And that wasn't playing dirty at all, I was planning on getting the chappie in for a xmas present, but I didn't quite make it. Thanks.
Goddessa39: I don't know if you've already read, but I don't like Angel. I never really did. I can't say why except for that his whole brooding act annoyed me. I liked him a helluva lot better as Angelus. So, no BA, sorry. And the books never came out and said Fleur was with Bill Weasley, but Fleur would have to return his affections if there was going to be a relationship.
Chrios: Lol. Yeah it was rather awkward. And you'll always have a supporter here for Willow/Tonks.
Wanderingsoul24: Yeah, I'm writing from just about every perspective I can cram. Glad you like the return of Drusilla and the whole fiasco with Dean and Ginny. Don't worry, Ginny will take a while to get back in the dating scene. I never try to make things easy.
Thanks also to miranda, Mlle Amethyste, Roswell428, tenshikoneko03, and Saxifrage.
Just as a side note, if anyone enjoys ER, especially Dr. Carter, I've started work on a BtVS/ER xover (you never see any of those). The title is, What Child is This?, and it features Shannon, the potential who was the first to meet Caleb if anyone recalls. Check it out if you're interested.