Chapter 8: Revelation

"Hello. This is Giles, uh, Rupert Giles. I need to see you. No, I realize that. Come after sundown. Good. I'll see you then." Giles hung up the phone with a sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You know most teachers leave during the summer," a slightly mocking, feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.

Removing his hand, Giles looked up to see the self-proclaimed, techno-pagan, and computer science teacher, Jenny Calendar. She was a petite woman, perhaps a hand full of years younger then himself, with a classic style that captured a modern edge. Last school year, she had made it her point to remind Giles constantly of his antediluvian nature but had been integral in throwing a demon out of the Internet. In her hand was a file folder, brimming with what looked like printed e-mails.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, tiredness and the worry of two young peoples futures leaving no room for tact.

"Gee, Rupert, you always wake up on the wrong side of the desk?" Miss Calendar asked.

He shook his head, closing the Codex in front of him. No matter how many times he checked and rechecked, he could not dispute the signs that were manifesting. The end of the world was coming and Buffy would be the first to die.

"Sorry, I'm not up to socializing just now," he offered a lame excuse.

Those dark engaging eyes scrutinized him. "Something's up, Rupert, and I'm guessing you already know what it is."

Startled he glanced up at her, the glaze of fatigue momentarily leaving him. "What do you know?"

"Well, I have been surfing the 'Net, looking for unexplained incidents. You know, people are always sending stuff my way." She started to ruffle through papers inside her file. "They know the occult's my turf. Now, here is the latest. A cat last week gave birth to a litter of snakes." She paused dramatically. "A family was swimming in Whisper Lake when the lake suddenly began to boil. And Mercy Hospital last night, a boy was born with his eyes facing inward. I'm not stupid. This is apocalypse stuff. And throw in this morning's earthquake, and I'd say we've got a problem. I would say the end is pretty seriously nigh."

It seemed all too tempting to allow her to share his burden, but he knew he had to be careful. She was offering him even more proof that the Codex prophecy was coming to pass. He stood up and made to straighten his suit. "I don't know if I can trust you?"

"I helped you cast that demon out of the Internet. I think that merits some trust." When she saw this was hardly a moving argument, she continued, "Look, I'm scared, okay? Plus, I've got this...this crazy monk e-mailing me from Cortona about some Anointed One."

That's what finally won Giles over. An agent of the Master would not have brought up such an obvious failure. "The Anointed One? He's dead."

"Someone's dead?" Miss Calendar asked confused.

Giles decided to diver this line of conversation. "Who is this monk?"

"Brother Luca, something? Keeps sending out global mailings about a prophecy," she answered off handedly.

'Which one,' Giles thought disparagingly. "I need you to talk to him, find out everything he knows."

Her back straightened in that way women had when a man gave them a command. "Look, Rupert, you haven't told me jack, so what's with the orders."

Time was slipping through his fingers, he didn't have enough to explain everything to her. "Just do it. I'll explain later."

"You'd better."

"Rupert," Remus called from outside of his office. "I got your message. Harry had to replay it, darned muggle contraptions."

Miss Calendar arched a dark brow but followed behind him as he walked out of his office and to Remus and Harry. Thankfully, the blood that protected his nephew from Voldemort could be hid behind his mass of messy hair. He could only imagine the type of questions that would raise to the techno-pagan's mind if she saw it. If only he could perform such a ritual for Buffy.

"Remus, Harry, this is Miss Calendar, she's a teacher at the school," Giles quickly introduced. "Remus Lupin's an old friend of mine and this is my nephew, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you," the computer science teacher greeted. She gave Giles a furtive look. "I'll go get that information you wanted, Rupert."

"Yes, thank you." He was thankful for her discretion.

"Hi, Buffy," Miss Calendar said and Giles snapped around to face the Slayer.

"Hey, Miss Calendar. Just helping Giles with cataloging," the girl quickly covered for her presence.

Miss Calendar shrugged. "Cool, see ya."

Buffy gave the library a cursory glance. "Wow, the damage looks fairly structural. Are we safe here?"

"Buffy," Giles breathed, unable to mask his relief at seeing her. Both Remus and Harry were looking at him strangely.

Fear graced the Slayer's face as she patted it gently. "What do I have something on my face?"

"No," he quickly covered. "And yes we're safe." He pointed up to the stacks where the foundation had been cracked. "But probably best not to go up there."

"How ya doing there, Giles? Get much sleep last night?" Buffy asked.

"I've been working," Giles stuttered.

An intense expression fell over the Slayer's usually carefree face. "Anything new?"

"Nothing yet," he lied, wishing he could lie to her forever.

Her face fell with a flash of disappointment. "Well, okay. Just wanted to make sure you weren't buried under a pile of rubble or anything. I guess I can't put it off any longer. I have to meet my terrible fate."

"What?" Giles snapped, disbelieving his ears.

"Spring cleaning. Mom hasn't actually caught on that it's a little late for that," Buffy said with a pout. "See ya later."

Giles started forward. "Uh, Buffy, you wouldn't want to take Harry along would you?" At both teenagers dubious expressions, he hurried along. "There are a few things I need to discuss with Remus. It shouldn't be too long." He forced a cheerful note.

"Uncle Rupert, I wanted to ask you some questions," Harry tried to divert Giles' diversion.

"Later," Giles said sharply and could not help but feel Remus' stare bore into him.

Buffy grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry. Your uncle's in his pre I-need-a bajillion-cups-of-tea-before-I'm-presentable state. Give him a few hours, he'll be right as puppies."

"I think that should be right as rain," Harry corrected as Buffy lead him out.

Remus swung on him so quickly that Giles fear an attack. "Rupert what's going on? I've never seen you like this before. Albeit it's been years, but this is not normal behavior."

"I need you to take Harry and leave," he ordered. "It's not safe for him here at the moment. You should leave tonight, there's no telling when it might actually occur."

Remus grabbed his arm and forced Giles to face him. "No telling when WHAT will occur?"

"The vampire known as the Master will rise tomorrow night and he will kill Buffy. When he does he will open the Hellmouth, spewing untold legions of darkness into this world."

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"Mom, I'm back," Buffy cried out as she lead Harry into her house. It was a quaint house along Revillo Drive that reminded him very little of Privet Drive and the nightmare years he had spent there.

"Good, we can start on the garage," Buffy's mother called out. "How was Mr. Giles?"

"Okay. A little put off by the quake but he'll live," Buffy answered, coming into the kitchen with a hesitant Harry in tow.

Buffy's mom looked very much like an older version of her daughter. Not overly tall, with a petite slim body. Her mane of curly hair was tied back with a bandana and she was rearranging the cupboards, taking out the older canned goods and putting them to the forward. "Why did we even buy canned liver?" her mother asked dumping the can into the garbage.

"You were in one of your health moods. Remember? 'Liver is brain food.'" Buffy reminded.

The older Summer's was still turned away from him, shaking her head. "That's fish, hon."

"Same difference," Buffy said with a shrug. "Mom, I've brought home a friend. He's Giles' nephew, Harry. I hope it's okay for him to stay here for a while."

Turning around, Mrs. Summers offered him a hand. "Sure. Nice to meet you, Harry."

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Summers," Harry said politely.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, on second thought, I brought home James Bond," she jibbed wryly.

"Don't listen to her, Harry. She's just thrown by anyone who displays a sense of decorum," Mrs. Summers teased.

"I have decorum. I have so much decorum, it's coming out of my ears," Buffy defended.

Mrs. Summers chuckled. "Well, you and your decorum might want to start on the garage."

"You know what goes best with garage cleaning?" Buffy asked, giving Harry a sly wink. "Pizza."

"Already on its way," Mrs. Summers answered.

"You're a good mom," Buffy said cheerfully.

"The best."

"Ready to attack the dreaded garage monster, 007?" Buffy asked.

Harry had actually seen a number of James Bond flicks through Dudley's continual TV observation. "In her majesties service," he said, trying to mimic the usual cool tone of the secret agent and bowing to Mrs. Summers.

"My hero," Mrs. Summers intoned dramatically.

Buffy snorted. "You two want to be alone?"

Harry blushed so deeply he feared that he had gone as red as Ron's hair. "Let's go," he said in a hurry. He heard Mrs. Summers chuckling as the exited out of the kitchen and into the garage. "I like you're mom."

"I do too," Buffy grunted flinging up the garage door that revealed towers of stacked cardboard boxes. "She's the best thing about my life, the only normal thing."

For a boy who had lived a lifetime of forced normalcy, he could not see the attraction. The Dursley's had seemed to find anything outside the realm of their definition akin to abomination. Strange that a Slayer would have a similar obsession.

He sighed. "I really don't understand you."

"I'm one tile short of that funny little cube with the colors, that Xander always tries to figure out but eventually abandons," Buffy said with her usual perk. She was reaching for one of the higher boxes that she could not quite get. With a bit of grandeur she gestured to the box. "Mind helping a vertically challenged girl out."

Harry nudged past her and stood on tip toe to retrieve the box, handing it gently to her. "So you're an unsolvable puzzle?" he asked.

"Don't act like Mr. Straight and Narrow," Buffy shot back a little heatedly. "You're being hunted down by a dark wizard and you've got blood on your forehead." With his last statement, Buffy whipped her hand out to brush his bangs back. "Don't you ever want to live a normal life? One without worrying about the next thing to go bump in the night."

Truth be told, Harry had never really thought about it. There had been little time to consider what if's in his life since he had found out he was a wizard. Not since he'd gazed into a mirror and seen what could have been; the images of parents he'd never know. Professor Dumbledore had cautioned him to leave that mirage alone and to look to the future, that hoping to change the past would do nothing but trap you inside of it; waste you away in both form and spirit.

"I'd rather know who I am," Harry muttered, mainly to himself. "Not a legend, not a myth, but Harry made flesh. Sometimes I feel as though I'm one step behind myself." He snorted. "Not the most comprehensive statement."

"No I get it. Two peas in a pod. If that pod was in a really sucky place," Buffy said. "Neat."

Harry smiled then. He still couldn't understand her, couldn't understand why she wanted to ignore a very large piece of her life, but he felt he was getting a little closer. He dropped down next to her, looking into the mounds of junk that the Summers' women had not been able to discard but had no room for and so had been sent to the garage.

She looked up at him as they began to empty the contents of the box, Harry wondering at the intricacies of women. "So what's with the blood? I assume Giles had to perform some kind of spell. Unless you're going for a new fashion statement."

That was the one thing that had been plaguing Harry's thoughts since Voldemort's attack. How had a muggle been able to cast out one of the most powerful wizards alive? Buffy had just confirmed that Uncle Rupert had indeed performed a spell, but it was unlike any he had ever learned about. He wished that he had been able to stay awake long enough to ask Hermione about it but the attack had left him drained.

"Voldemort and I have a connection. The first time he tried to kill me, he gave me this scar," Harry explained, pressing back his bangs and using his index finger to lightly trace the lightning bolt that had split open last night. He was carefully not to disturb the now crusted mixture of his and Uncle Rupert's blood. "Because of the magic involved we can now get into one another's mind. He did that last night. It...it almost killed me, but Uncle Rupert somehow forced him out."

"Wow. No wonder he was Mr. Grumps-a-lot this morning," Buffy ventured. "Why does this Voldemort have a big yen for your death? You don't seem the showdown type."

Harry froze. Save Uncle Rupert, no one in Sunnydale had been told the length of the prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort. Even Ron and Hermione had not yet learned that the prophecy that they thought destroyed was being stored in the memories of Professor Dumbledore. To tell her would be to admit it to someone who could share his same horror, but at the same time the surreal state of it would become so much more substantial.

"I don't know," Harry lied. "When he tried to kill me that first time, he killed my parents. They had been fighting against him." He contrived a shrug. "He must want to finish what he started."

"He'll never stop coming," Buffy said, suddenly serious. "They never do."

"No he won't," Harry agreed solemnly.

"Buffy, Harry, pizza's here!" Mrs. Summers called out, interrupting the tension with her sweet voice.

Buffy jumped to her feet. "Good we could do with a little copping food."

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It had taken the rest of the afternoon to finish the garage and the sun had just dipped below the horizon when Buffy and Harry went up to the bathroom to wash up. Both were covered in cobwebs, dust, and grease, but the garage had never looked better. Having spent a few hours in dredge work with her Watcher's nephew, Buffy couldn't help but feel connected. They both had a rotten lot and each was just trying to deal with it in their own way. It wasn't Harry's fault he'd been raised in the land of the repressed.

To her surprise Harry could crake a joke and regaled her with tales from his school days, while Buffy exchanged all that had occurred to her and her friends since arriving on the Hellmouth. It had been a great delight to narrate the tales of 'Xander and the Bug Lady' or 'Xander becomes a Hyena'.

"Willow actually fell for a demon who was in the Internet," Buffy started a new one, her voice hushed so that her mother couldn't over hear. She switched on the faucet with her head turned towards Harry.

The wizard balked. "On the computer? You can't be serious."

"Totally serious. It was this thing with a book and scanners and fizzy hair," Buffy explained. "I was almost afraid...that...she..." she drew off, her eyes locked on the sink.

Her hands were paused outside of the faucet. Where she had expected to see clear crisp refreshing water, blood oozed out, pooling at the base of the sink.

"What is it?" Harry asked from behind her. His head poked over her shoulder when she didn't answer and a gasp escaped his lips. "Is that?"

"Oh yeah," Buffy answered. "We got to get to Giles."

The Slayer and the wizard ran down the stairs and Buffy rounded into the kitchen. "Mom, I think the pipes are broke. That water was coming out all mucky upstairs. I'd call a plumber in the morning."

"Wonderful," Mom said with a dramatic eye roll.

"I'm going to walk Harry home," Buffy told her, grabbing a coat. "I'll get Giles to drive me back."

"Okay, don't stay out too late," her mom said absently. A mound of bills poured out before her.

Buffy pushed Harry out the door and started walking down the path in quick staccato steps. Harry had to run to keep up with her. "Doesn't your mum think it odd that you're walking ME home?"

"Let's just say I have a reputation of taking care of myself," Buffy answered. "Plus it helps that I walk Xander and Willow home."

They traveled the rest of the way in silence, Harry falling back from Buffy's hurried pace several times only to double his efforts. Sunnydale High was as eerily quiet as it ever was, the timed sprinkler's causing a repetitive hissing sound were the only things to disrupt the silence. Harry stopped, gasping for breath outside the entry way that Giles had purloined them a key to.

"I always wondered how you guys got in and out of this place," Harry breathed in between gasps.

"Sorry for the hurried pace," she said, just noticing Harry's discomfort.

"I'll be okay," he shook of her concern.

She knew he was lying. The struggle with Voldemort the other night had left him looking a little paler then she remembered from previous days and the clotted blood on his forehead gave him the stunning look of a vampire. If it wasn't for his labored breathing she could almost believe he was one.

"You can rest once we get inside," informed the Slayer, twisting the knob open and dashing inside with the wizard.

Harry looked around, swallowing several more gulps of air. "Are you sure Uncle Rupert's still here? It's very dark."

"Giles usually only keep his desk lamp on when he's studying," Buffy replied. "The library isn't far from here."

Walking into the library, she was proven right by the warm glow of Giles' lamp. "Giles, you are not gonna believe this," she muttered as she and Harry walked forward.

"It's clear. It's what's going to happen. It's happening now," Giles said tightly from his office, stopping the Slayer and the wizard. Buffy and Harry exchanged concerned glances.

That's when another figure stepped into Buffy's view and she felt her heart leap into her throat. "Angel."

"Who?" Harry asked, but Buffy shushed him with a hand.

Angel had his head turned down, studying one of Giles old tomes. "It can't be. You've gotta be wrong." The vampire's tone was intense, full of foreboding.

"I've checked it against all my other volumes. It's very real," Giles argued, his usual calculating tone whipped out by sudden emotion.

Angel tossed the book in his hand to the desk. "Well, there's gotta be some away around it."

Irritation was an all time high in Giles voice. "Listen. Some prophecies are a bit dodgy. They're...they're mutable. Buffy, herself, has thwarted them time and time again, but this is the Codex. There is nothing in it that does not come to pass."

"Then you're reading it wrong," Angle growled.

"I wish to God I were," the Watcher was nearly yelling now. "But it's very plan. Tomorrow night, Buffy will face the Master, and she will die."