Well, this is a bit on the short side by my standards, but honestly I didn't think I could put any more into this chapter without making it "too much". Hope you enjoy, and Happy Holidays to all of you!

Rupert Giles' jaw fell. "Ex-excuse me?" he stuttered. "What happened to Merrick?"

Quentin Travers raised an eyebrow. "What happens to many Watchers. He was killed in the line of duty, and as such, Miss Summers is in need of a new Watcher. You've been selected."

"But I have commitments here, Quentin," Rupert argued, still a bit shocked that he'd been chosen to work with the Slayer. It was an honor, to be sure, but considering his rather colorful past, he'd never expected it to be an honor he'd have. Further, he wasn't sure he deserved it.

"The Watcher's seat on the Sacred Twenty-Eight is at the discretion of the Watcher's Council. I've already spoken with Lady Slytherin and Lord Griphook, and they've agreed to accept Christopher Botwell in your place. You have until July twelfth to set your affairs in order and get to California. Of course, with the Room of Requirement and portkeys at your disposal, you can at least avoid the transatlantic flight," Quentin reported.

"That's not even two weeks."

"Yes, and there's much to do," the older Watcher agreed, "as Griphook conditioned your release upon sending an Order member with you, undercover of course. You need to select someone who would believably pass as a Watcher in training. Ideally, this person would be young enough to at least appear to be of age to still be in primary school, as you will be working at the Library in the public school Miss Summers will be attending. The candidate would ideally become a fellow student of hers."

"Dear lord, man," Rupert groaned. "You cannot be expecting me to take on the Slayer and mind another youth on top of that!"

"It's the condition that Griphook required, Rupert," Quentin sighed. "And as much as I wish I could simplify things and assign someone else to be Miss Summers' Watcher, the coven up in Devon insists they've seen you as her Watcher. I cannot work against that."

The younger man nodded, knowing he really didn't have a choice in the matter any more than Quentin seemed to. The Slayer and Watcher bond was rarely foretold, but when it was and the Watcher's Council dared defy the seen pairing, the Watcher assigned and Slayer tended to both end up dead before long. It wasn't worth the risk. "I understand."

"If I may make a suggestion, regarding your Order member companion…" Quentin posed just before he walked out of Rupert's quarters. "Mister Ronald Weasley would be ideal for a number of reasons. By all accounts, he's got a keen mind for strategy, and is otherwise quite adaptable even under stress. Further, with his newborn sister being the first known magical Slayer potential, he and his family may appreciate the opportunity to get a start on understanding what all that implies."

"He's just turned sixteen," Rupert said dismissively. "Thus, he's not an Order member."

"But he's been fighting beside young Mister Potter for longer than the rest of us," came an easy counter. "I think Lady Slytherin and Lord Griphook would look past his minority considering how well suited he is to the task. There would only need to be his parents' permission."

"And his agreement."

Quentin shook his head. "Unlike you, youth does not seem to have hindered Mister Weasley's ability to do his duty. The boy will do what he's asked, have no doubt of that. Even if his parents tell him that it's his choice."

The jibe stung, but Rupert supposed it was justified. Further, he'd run out of reasons to not consider Ron as an ideal companion. They already knew one another decently well, so it wouldn't be like having to move in with a complete stranger, and Quentin was on the mark regarding his virtues to the cause. More than that, at least it would be one person in his life from whom he didn't have to hide his past, as by Ron's connection to Harry, and through Harry to Severus, the young man already knew a fair bit about his past. Also, Rupert considered with a wry grin, Ron's dedication to Harry was absolute, so he'd not have to worry about his young companion becoming distracted by a school full of attractive young people who'd find a new British exchange student highly desirable.

"I'll speak with Hermione," Rupert promised, and with a curt nod Quentin was out the door and gone.

Galahad found himself in the most curious company. Severus Prince, a fellow adult, wasn't that surprising he supposed, but the fact that the two of them were chatting amicably and seriously with two teenage boys was a bit unsettling to the immortal Knight. Dudley Dursley had been speaking with his surrogate father when Galahad had happened upon the two of them, and almost immediately after greeting them, Ronald Weasley had come seeking his Potions Professor.

"Professor...er...Lord Regent, sir…" Ron greeted. "I was wondering if I might have a word."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Ronald, just call me Severus," the recently elected governing head growled. "I get enough of that Lord Regent bollocks from the Council."

"Right," the red-haired teen replied, offering a grin. "I was wondering if you could give me some advice - I've been asked to travel with Rupert to America to help him with the Slayer. I'd be living with him, and while I think he's a decent enough chap, I could hardly claim to know him. Before I commit to something I'm sure Harry's gunna be livid over, I'd like to know what sort of bloke Rupert really is, and 'Mione told me to talk to you about it."

Severus and Galahad both frowned, and the elder man imagined their thoughts were quite similar. That was an Order task, and Ronald had only just turned sixteen. "Hermione approves of sending you on a mission?" he voiced.

"It was Mister Travers idea," Ron replied, "or so I'm told. But it makes sense. Not only am I disposable here, but my areas of strength could be used to help Rupert out - tactics and so forth - but with Vala being a Slayer potential, someone in her family really ought to make an effort to learn what she's gunna need to know when she grows up. Further, being as young as I am, I could pass as a transfer student at the same school the Slayer attends - muggle of course - which would allow me to watch her more closely than Rupert could. As much as I don't want to leave Harry, or any of the rest of you lot, I do want to do my part in this fight, and I'm aware enough of tactical maneuvering to understand that not being on the front lines doesn't make you any less vital to the cause."

"If nothing else," Severus commented, "years as a spy taught me the truth in that statement, Ronald. I cannot argue the logic of the situation, even if I'm loathe to consider someone as young as yourself being saddled with such responsibility."

"Order member or not," Ron replied, "I do understand duty, and I'm not going to use childhood as an excuse to refuse the task. Merlin knows I stopped being a kid ages ago - been through too much, you know? But, back to my original question, if Rupert and I can't get along, it'll be detrimental to the mission, so I need some insight on who he is."

"Did you consider just asking Rupert?" Dudley inquired.

"Figured he'd likely gloss over his faults, and…" the other teen blushed, glancing at his Professor. "...Severus is more likely to exaggerate his flaws, given the history of both their relationship, and of his tendency to be brutally honest in any case."

"Twenty points to Gryffindor," Severus said with a smirk. "For someone finally recognizing I'm a mean old bat."

Ron grinned, knowing damn well how rare it was that the Head of Slytherin House awarded points to Gryffindor. It faded quickly, however, when Dudley pointedly remarked on how term was not in session, so it didn't count.

"To answer your question, Ronald," the Potions Master continued. "Rupert is, overall, a decent man. He tends to be tidy, but not obsessively so unless it is concerning his books or weapons collection. He can pick up an easy conversation with just about anyone - from muggle to Death Eater, and make them feel at ease. His biggest flaw is that he needs to feel useful, and when he doesn't he gets short tempered. In the face of grief, he will act rashly, so watch for that. Further, you'll need to be understanding of the fact that he's a child of two worlds. You only know him as a wizard, but the fact of the matter is that he's lived almost strictly muggle for the better part of his adult life. His father, who was also a Watcher, wanted an heir to his mantle and while he had two sons, both were magical like their mother. Robert learned to be alright with not measuring up to their father, but Rupert still feels very conflicted about his place in the world. In many ways, I think he's ashamed of his magic - it has more often gotten him into harm's way than it has helped him, and his father's constant badgering about his duty to the Watchers hasn't helped."

Ron took all the information in quietly, and Galahad marveled at how maturely the teen was handling the information. Most boys about his age would see a pile of blackmail being handed to him, but this young man seemed more concerned for the Watcher's well-being than anything else. After all these years, Galahad prided himself on being able to read people quite well, and if this young man's body language and tender tone were anything to go on, Ron was taking the information about Rupert and mentally evaluating it, not for the sake of being able to use it against the older wizard, but to use it to help him. What doubt Galahad had about Ronald's readiness to take on this mission vanished on the spot.

"So, Dudley," Ron said in a more cheerful voice, bringing the immortal's attention back to the conversation at hand. "How was California? Looks like I'm gunna need to know."

Dudley grinned. "We met this bloke, who was from a demon dimension called Pylea, named Lorne. Of all his people, he's the only one who likes music. How weird is that?"

"Very weird," Ron agreed. "Harry said you used some of Vernon's contacts out there to help your friend open a nightclub."

"Yeah, the old man will be livid when he finds out," Dudley remarked, offering a smirk that Galahad knew he had stolen from Severus. "I also liquidated a few of the stocks Vernon had in Grunnings, which gave Lorne about sixty thousand American dollars to start up with. Of course, that's a loan. I'll get it back with interest, over the next twelve years. I kind of feel like I found my calling out there - helping Lorne get started was a blast, and when I factor in the fact that I've got connections, through Mum and Mother and Dad, in all the branches of the magical community, I could really help them intermingle business wise, which would ultimately help develop a more stable economy, in and out of the muggle world!"

Ron was grinning, happy for his friend, obviously not taking note of how Dudley had just addressed Severus. Galahad, however, did. "Dad?" he inquired, eyeing the Potions Master.

The pale, dark haired Head of the Prince line offered a small smile. "While in California, Dudley and I discussed the possibility of my naming him heir to the Prince line. I had already discussed the matter with Hermione and Minerva, and they'd given their approval."

"And I said yes of course!" Dudley inputted.

"Good on you, Dud!" Ron cheered.

"And given that being named heir means he'd have to take the Prince name much as I have, and we already identified in a father and son manner, it seemed… appropriate to allow him to utilize the paternal honorific," Severus finished.

"Which is a nice way to say as soon as he said I'd be taking the Prince name I asked if I could call him dad," the blond teen blushed. "I mean, Harry already does, and I'll bet Emma will before long too."

"I am a lifelong bachelor," Severus bemoaned. "How did I end up with three children?"

"As with most of the better complications in our lives," Galahad mused, "I'd imagine it had something to do with Hermione."

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry Potter turned to see his brother's dorm-mate, Draco Malfoy approaching. While Harry and Draco's relationship had started out quite badly, in the last year they'd approached something they both secretly called friendship, though neither was willing to actually voice that conclusion. "Draco," the dark haired teen greeted. "What's up?"

"I need a minor favor," the Slytherin stated. "You got the Marauder's Map back from your mum, yeah?"

Harry nodded, and pulled the aforementioned article out of his robe pocket. "Yup. What do you need it for?"

"I can't find Helena," the blond admitted sheepishly. "I haven't seen her in two days. Yesterday I just figured she had other stuff she needed to do - but I went looking this morning and I've been looking all day and I just can't find her. I'm starting to get worried something's happened to her."

Harry rolled his eyes. There was nothing worse than your friend having a thing for your sister. It was just icky. "What's the worst that can happen? She can't get any more dead than she already is."

"Maybe I don't care!" Draco snapped.

"I know you...love her, but she's dead and that's not gunna change," Harry said sympathetically. "Mate, obsessing over a girl you can't have isn't healthy."

"But what if… I don't know… someone found a spell to destroy ghosts and decided to try it out on her?" Draco grasped, obviously ignoring Harry's attempt to be supportive. "Come on Harry, just help me find her! Ghosts show up on your bloody map just as well as living people, so can you just check for me?"

Harry decided to humor Draco. He did feel bad for the guy, and if it were him in love with someone he couldn't have, he'd want to be humored. He'd need to know the one who had his heart was safe. "Alright, alright…. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The two teens searched the map diligently for ten minutes before Harry spotted his sister in a third floor room which, if his memory served, was one of the few rooms left in Hogwarts that hadn't been assigned any sort of use. "There!" he pointed.

"She's not moving," Draco said worriedly. "Ghosts on the map - the dots shake a bit so you can tell the difference."

"You're awfully familiar with my map," Harry said suspiciously, having never before looked at the map in Draco's company.

"Um… Dudley and I sometimes borrow it," he admitted, before quickly moving back to the issue at hand. "But anyhow, like I said, she's not moving. I was right. There's something wrong."

Harry, too, had noticed the way ghosts appeared on his map, and despite his earlier urging to Draco that nothing could possibly be amiss, he was beginning to share the other teen's concern over Helena. "Let's go," he agreed, folding the map and stowing it away.

It took the two boys nearly twenty minutes to get from where they had been to where the map had indicated Helena currently was. A million things rolled through Harry's mind as to what could be wrong with someone already dead, but nothing prepared him for what they actually found when they burst into the otherwise empty classroom.

Sitting in the corner of the room, crouched on the floor and crying, was Helena Ravenclaw. She wore the same dress Harry had always seen her in, but the colors were more vivid now - more solid, as was the rest of her. She looked up at them, startled, and obviously scared. "Draco? Harry?"

"Helena," Harry gaped, watching her chest rise and fall in an absolutely normal way. "You're… you're alive."

"Not going to change, huh?" Draco said with wonder, moving forward to kneel beside Helena. He touched her arm, and smiled at the warmth.

"I stand corrected," Harry muttered, looking dumbfounded at his adoptive sister. "Mum's gunna flip."

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