Title: Coming For You

Part: 4: The Path Given

Rating: 15

Author: Jmaria

Spoilers: All of Ats and HP (just to be safe)

Disclaimer: You know they aren't mine, Joss and JK own all.

Summary: Crazy Irishmen, mysterious voices, and strange feelings.

Setting: Early September in book six, season 5 of Angel (you'll see why later on)

A/N: Ok, I just got back from break, and the absence of a computer left me scribbling out bits and pieces of the last chapter, so here's what didn't fit (yes, I know if I'd pushed myself harder, they could have been the same chapter, but I like the tiny installments - my fingers hurt less that way.)

4: The Path Given

Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and McGonagall were waiting there for them when they arrived. Doyle clapped his hands together.

"Right then, so these would be the house heads."

"Yes. Professors Flitwick, McGonagall and Sprout, this is Allen Francis Doyle." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I assume Severus has filled you in."

"Yes."

"Is it true he was dead this morning?" The plump Professor Sprout asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes, as far as we can tell."

"It goes against the cardinal rules of magic to raise the dead." McGonagall gasped, her hand at her throat.

"Well, the powers decided on it. They like breaking their own rules." Doyle smiled bitterly.

"I think we need a bit of clarification." Dumbledore sighed, rubbing at the ache in his temples.

"Right then. So I died a hero, which was never what I was looking for. I saved the lives of the people I cared about and innocent half-demons from genocide. That was nearly four years ago."

"How -" Minerva began."

"Remember those powers I was talking about? Those would be the Powers That Be. They bring balance into the world through their seers and champions." Doyle sighed.

Doyle thought on it for a few minutes, drowning out the rest of the voices. Until the tiny Professor Flitwick interrupted his thoughts.

"What are you here for then?"

"Seems as though, through current events, the PTB's balance has been thrown off a bit. They've been keepin' tabs on you, and it seems that there's this pesky little contractual obligation on this castle."

"Contractual obligation?" Dumbledore asked, signaling to the others that not even he had ever heard this before.

"Yeah. But all they told me was that 'it's potential has been awaken and the time for action is now'. You know, that old line."

"You were a seer before. In Los Angeles." Dumbledore remarked.

"A Seer?" McGonagall said stiffly.

"The PTB sent me visions, and Angel saved the innocents." Doyle realized that this wasn't cutting it with the older witch. "They were legit visions. We helped the hopeless. And our rates were low."

"You charged people to save their lives?"

"That's not important. When I died, I gave Cordelia the visions to keep Angel in the game. . .the powers wouldn't have given them back to me . . ." The realization hit him hard and fast. "As long Cordelia has the visions, I couldn't have. . "

"It means, Cordelia had to die for them to return to you." A female voice came out from the dark corner of the room.

She was as tall as McGonagall, but much younger. Her hair was dark brown and her eyes were sad. She strode purposefully across the room, hands on her hips, showing that she meant business. She smiled brightly at Doyle.

"Princess."

"Doyle. Did I ever thank you for those wonderful visions you gave me?"

"How - "

"Long story. You're back because the world needs you to be the seer for the Champions." Cordelia smiled sadly.

"But - you died." Doyle said, his voice thick with emotion.

"So did you, once upon a time. But that doesn't matter. You need to guide them, Doyle. They are so much younger than I was, than Buffy was. They need you, Doyle." She spun on the five other adults in the room. "And you need to trust him, because you need those four kids to help in your war."

She smiled again at Doyle. It had been so long, and she missed seeing him. First soldier down. She kissed him softly on the lips, fully returning the gift he once bestowed on her. She stepped towards the shadows.

"I'll be seeing you." She said, disappearing.

Doyle brushed at the tears that he wouldn't let fall down his cheeks. The Powers were fickle bastards.

"Right. The four kids."

"Four children?" Professor Sprout demanded, a tinge of hysteria in her voice. "That makes no sense."

"Rose Zeller, Dennis Creevey, Millicent Bulstrode, and Cho Chang. That make it clearer? Those are the four students. Each from a different house." Doyle paused. "What're they called again?"

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Dumbledore supplied.

"Gotcha. Rosie, the littlest one, she's a vampire slayer. An active vampire slayer. Do I need to explain what that is?"

"No."

"Good. Millie's already remembering, and hearing the voices of the past. Cho - she's unsure, but I think it's starting to come back. She can feel the changes." Doyle paused. "And Dennis, he already feels it and he has been for awhile now."

"Feeling what?" McGonagall asked, puzzled.

"His soul."

"Are you saying that that thirteen year old boy didn't have a soul before now? That's preposterous." McGonagall shrilled.

"Ever heard the expression 'he's an old soul'? That's what all four of them are. They're old souls, awakening in new forms."

"Souls of whom?"

"Those intimately connected to the last set of champions chosen for Hogwarts." Doyle said simply.

"Champions?"

"The founders." Dumbledore murmured.

"Give the man a prize." Doyle slumped into the nearest chair. "Got anything decent to drink round here?"

Dennis grumbled under his breath as he made his way up to the Gryffindor Tower. He remembered why he'd been down in the dungeons this morning between classes. All his big brother talked about was pulling the ultimate prank on the Slytherins to get back for last year. Unfortunately, he was scheming with some of the older Gryffindors and falling all over Ginny Weasley.

Colin spent most of his time with Ginny and Luna Lovegood these days, griping about how much he wanted to get back at Draco Malfoy. Colin kept forgetting to including him, and Dennis found himself being left out of everything.

It didn't help that Dennis kept dreaming about a young wizard who felt the same way as he did when that boy was at Hogwarts. His brother had been all important too, and felt as left out of things as Dennis did.

"Godric, isn't this a good -"

"Not right now, Godfrey. I've some important work to get done. The others are waiting for me."

"But - "

"You should go work on the spells you were assigned." The tall, broad shouldered man said patronizingly.

"Fine." Godfrey huffed, turning back to the tower.

"That's a good lad."

Dennis collided heavily with a tall lanky boy, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts. Dennis began to apologize.

"Sorry - I ." He started. But the red-head he recognized as Ron Weasley only waved him off. "- wasn't paying attention."

He watched as Ron, Hermione Granger, and his older brother's hero, Harry Potter walked past him. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they barely noticed the younger boy.

"That figures." Dennis said bitterly, giving the password to the Fat Lady.

Millicent made her way down to the dungeons, finally being set free from the hospital wing. Her last class was nearly done for the day, and she really didn't want to go back to all of those traitors in her class.

The common room wasn't empty when she reached it. Theodore Nott, one of her oldest friends sat there reading Quidditch Weekly.

"Oi, Nott. I've a bone to pick with you."

A/N: Ok, that's it for this part. Next up, Millicent's bone, the pow-wow, and Cho's thoughts on the whole mess.