DISCLAIMER:  The characters aren't mine.  I'm borrowing them from the esteemed Joss Whedon and J.K. Rawling.

      SPOILERS/BACKGROUND:  Everything from BtVS Season 1 to Season 6, AtS Seasons 1 to 3, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

      Reviews always welcome!

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      CHAPTER 17:

      TRADING STORIES

      Willow's mind was racing as she sped away from the Shrieking Shack, quaffing a little Centaur Speed potion as she ran.  She had seen a lot while living on the Hellmouth her entire life, but this would have been enough to make Giles' head spin.

      She slowed as she reached the bottom of the hill.  With the liquid fire of the speed potion burning in her veins, she knew she was only five minutes from the train.  She looked around for the snake she had spoken to earlier.  She spotted it a moment later.  It looked as though it hadn't moved from where she had left it, and looked as though it had been watching the shack with interest.

      "That sssounded exccciting," it said.

      "Exciting, dangerous, whatever.  But thank you, anyway."

      The snake actually managed to look pleased.  "Well, you're welcome," it said politely.  "And I do sssay, you have better manners than the lasst perssson to talk to snakesss in thisss town."

      "Last person?" Willow asked.

      "The Heir," the snake answered.  "Pompousss bassstard.  Only likesss the great ssserpentsss and poisonousss sssnakesss.  But sssome of my friendsss work for him anyway."

      "The Heir?"

      "The Heir of the Houssse of Ssserpentsss."

      Willow's mind leapt.  "Slytherin."

      "Yesss."

      She smiled at it.  "Well, I'm not trying to be like other Slytherins," she said.  "But, unfortunately, I don't want to be rude, but I need to return to the castle."

      "Cccertainly."

      "But I need to ask one thing, if you know … why can I talk to you?"

      "You are connected to the Heir," the snake answered.  "Sssomehow."

      Willow gasped, feeling the wand in her pocket, and her mind made another leap.  Voldemort.  Who else would be the Heir of Slytherin?  And I'm … connected … to him?  How?  I don't even know him!

      "Are you sure?" she asked weakly.

      The snake flicked its tongue at her, and she realized that had it been a human, it would have been laughing.  "I do not understand magic," it admitted, "but that is how I've heard the ssstory."  The snake gave a couple of long, slow blinks of its eyes that Willow realized were the equivalent of a shrug.

      "Well, thank you, anyway," she managed weakly, backing away.

      "Do come back and sssay hi.  It'sss been a while sssince I had a good conversssation."

      "I—I will," she managed.  "Thank you for talking with me."

      "You're quite welcome."

      Willow bolted away as fast as her augmented legs could carry her.  She prayed inwardly that her last question hadn't wasted too much time for her to make it to the train.  Her mind was racing even faster than before, though she tried to shove the thoughts to the back of her mind while she concentrated on making the train.

      She made it to the train only seconds before the doors closed, throwing herself into an empty seat by the door just before the train lurched into motion.  There were more than enough empty seats, as few students were returning from Hogsmeade so early, and Willow stretched out languidly on the plush purple bench, but her thoughts were anything but languid.

      You are connected to the Heir.

      I'm connected to Voldemort.

      The wand chooses the wielder as much as the wielder the wand.

      He forged that wand you are holding himself.

      I'm connected to the murderer of Harry's parents.  The dark sorcerer that's trying to take over the world.

      Despite the plush comfort of the seats, she had developed a headache by the time the train pulled into Hogwarts Station, even though the ride was short.  She hopped out and quickly moved to the boats, thinking about the first time she had held the wand.

      Voices spiraled across her consciousness, some human, some somehow less so, almost serpentine, yet all somehow comprehensible … it looked as though Willow were wearing a crown of twisting, interlocking serpents of lightning and flame.

      It's like meeting a long-lost relative.  A familiar presence nearby.

      She opened the fold of her robe and looked at the wand, just sitting there in her pocket, looking no different than any wand any other student might carry.  Dumbledore had given it to her.

      If I truly believed you wanted to wield it, I wouldn't be giving it to you.

      If you were supposed to be getting away from it, I would have suggested taking you to Siberia.  That is the kind of thing you are supposed to be learning to control.  And … Willow, trust me when I say this, as I have trusted you so far …

      She lowered her head from where she had been looking at the sky, and repeated Dumbledore's words to her for softly aloud, "you can learn to control it."  Her resolve stiffened.  She could learn to control it.

      Another thought edged itself back into her awareness, one that had been on her mind since the end of the fight in the basement of the Shrieking Shack until that snake had told her … what it had told her.  She had quickly, reflexively, shouted a Lightshield counter-curse when Peter had begun reciting the Sunburst curse.  The flash had not affected her.  She had watched his transformation, and it had touched something in her, something she hadn't brought up at the shack because she felt guilty about thinking about it at all when there had been so many more important things to worry about.

      How did he do that?

      Amy Madison had transformed herself into a rat and had never been able to restore herself.  Peter had done it, however, which meant that it could be done, and she had caught a few glimpses of how he had been able to do it—a mix of Transfiguration and Charms, a little bit of the essence of the shape to be adopted, but there had been a lot more to it than that.  She made a note to herself to check up on that in the library.  She realized with a wry laugh that she was starting to sound like Giles—I'm sure my books and I are in for a fascinating evening together.

      She had other things to do first, however.  She was out of the boat before the boat had even fully pulled in to the dock.  Hagrid shouted out a quick reproving word, but Willow was already dashing down the pier.

      Her first thought was that Dumbledore himself would want to know.  However, as she wound her way up to the castle, she found herself thinking that was probably not a good first option.  Dumbledore was always busy.  In addition, while this Peter was clearly a dark wizard, Willow wasn't sure exactly how special that was—was it not a big deal unless three or more were together?  Were there dark wizards disguised as rats all over the place?  Yet the way Ron and Hermione had reacted, combined with what they had told her about Peter being the one to betray Harry's parents, combined with what she had heard about Harry over the last two weeks—he did seem to be in the news a lot—made her guess that this was something she should at least go to a professor about, if not Dumbledore himself.

      Then it hit her.  Lupin.  A Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, one that she had developed a modest rapport with over three days, and that Hermione had said had been one of the people to capture Peter originally.

      The Centaur Speed potion had long since worn off by the time she reached his office and knocked at the door, and she was panting for breath.  She had not run very far in a long time.

      He opened the door slowly, in his typical casual manner, then saw the state she was in, and his eyes widened.  "Willow, what happened?"

      "We were attacked at the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade," Willow answered breathlessly, "by a rat named Peter."  That was as much information as she could get out in a few words.  She realized it sounded ridiculous, but she hoped it would do the trick.

      "What?!" Lupin exploded.  Willow nodded inwardly.  It had done the trick.  "Is anyone hurt?  How long ago?  What happened?"

      "Listen," Willow said, "he ran down a passage out of the Shack.  We didn't follow in case it was a trap, but Hermione said it led to Hogwarts."

      Lupin's eyes had grown wider with every word.  "It does," he admitted hastily.  "Hermione?  Who else was with you?"

      "Buffy and Ron," Willow answered quickly.  "They're OK, they fought him off, but he ran this way.  It was probably forty-five minutes ago now, at least."

      "He could easily be here, then," Lupin growled.  He strode to the fire, grabbing a handful of green powder from a pot on the mantle and casting it into the flames.  "Minerva!  Severus!" he called.

      A floating, almost holographic orb appeared in the fire, eventually resolving into the familiar face of Severus Snape.  A moment later, it shrank and moved to one side to make room for the forming image of McGonagall's stern visage.

      "Yes, Lupin?" Snape asked with a thinly veiled sneer.  Apparently Snape and Lupin did not get along so well.

      "What is it, Remus?" McGonagall asked a moment later.  "A conference call from you, it must be important."

      "Two of each of your students were just attacked in Hogsmeade," he said, "by Peter Pettigrew.  I thought you should be the first to know."

      "Let me guess," sneered Snape.  "Summers and Rosenberg."

      "Hey!" Willow said.  They didn't get in that much trouble; in fact, they hadn't gotten in any trouble, except the incident that no one counted when Buffy accidentally flew down into the dungeons saving Torrence Appleby.

      "And if I might make so bold," McGonagall said with a sigh, "I might guess Miss Granger and Mister Weasley."

      Lupin actually smiled.  "As knowledgeable as ever about your charges, I see."

      "Let it pass," McGonagall said with a shrug, suddenly all business.  "What happened?  And is that Miss Rosenberg I hear with you?"

      "It is," Lupin said.  "She's just started giving me the details, I thought you might like to hear them, too."

      "Are the others with her?"

      "They are not, unfortunately," Lupin said, turning once again to Willow.  "Minerva raises a good point," he said.  "Where are the others?"

      "Still in Hogsmeade," Willow answered.  Then, more hesitantly, "Uh … do I need to speak right into the fire?"

      "We can hear you just fine, Miss Rosenberg," Snape said impatiently.  "Continue, please."

      "There was only ten minutes to get to the train from the Shrieking Shack, and Ron couldn't make it walking, so the others stayed behind with him," Willow admitted.  "He had a concussion.  They're bringing him as fast as they can safely manage."

      "I see.  And how did the fight end?" McGonagall asked.

      "Buffy fought him, and he escaped in rat form down a secret passage that we didn't know was there.  Buffy sealed him inside with a Terrandictus Charm before Hermione told us the passage led to Hogwarts."

      "He's here?" McGonagall asked, surprised.

      "Unless the passage has another exit."

      "It doesn't," Snape and Lupin said together.

      "I'll send a message to Dumbledore and alert Alastor at once," Minerva said.  "And Hagrid, too.  You said he came here in rat form?"

      "Yes, professor," Willow replied.  Now that the rush of telling someone, anyone, was out of her system, she was beginning to shrink back to her more demure, normal self.  In addition, she was in a hurry to get away.  There was one more person that she believed would want to be told.  She hoped they wouldn't forbid it to her.

      "Excellent," McGonagall said, and a feral grin split her face.  "I do believe Hagrid keeps some rather interesting creatures that eat rodents."  Willow's eyes widened, and she suddenly understood why McGonagall was the head of the warrior House.  That even brought a grin to Snape's lips, though seeing how he looked when he smiled, Willow decided his perpetual scowl wasn't that ugly after all.

      "All right," Lupin said.  "We've got work to do.  None of the others were hurt, Willow?"

      "No," Willow asserted.  "Hermione was shaken up a bit, and Buffy was fine.  I stayed out of the fight."

      "A wise decision, Miss Rosenberg," McGonagall said, with a look that reminded her that the teachers knew of her past.  "But Buffy!  Fighting off a Death Eater after only three weeks of study!"  She looked visibly impressed.

      "Peter Pettigrew was never the mightiest of foes, Minerva," Snape countered.

      "Oh really?  Well, if you don't want her, I've said before that I thought Buffy would make an outstanding Gryffindor …"

      "I think she's just fine where she is," Snape said with a smirk.  "And Lupin, remember to take your potion tonight."  The image of his face winked out.

      McGonagall laughed, and though Willow couldn't see the woman's shoulders, she had a feeling the woman had just given a sheepish shrug.  "Worth a try," she said.  "Thank you for contacting me, Remus."

      "Of course, Minerva," Lupin replied politely.  McGonagall's face vanished a moment later.

      "That was a very brave thing you did, Willow," Lupin said after the smoke cleared.

      "What, coming to tell you?  It was kind of …"

      Lupin waved her to silence.  "No.  I meant not getting involved in the fight.  That took a lot of trust in your friend."

      "Well … I did worry, kind of … I mean, I would sort of think most people would want a friend to help them in a fight …"

      Lupin laughed.  "Usually.  Actually, most people would probably like their friends to help them avoid fights.  But I think we both know that your case is a little special."

      Willow swallowed and nodded.

      "And now," he finished, "I believe you'll probably be wanting to go tell one more special someone about today's events."

      Willow looked up, and flushed.  "Does everyone know?" she asked hesitantly.

      "Everyone?  Know what?  First, no.  Second, I don't think there's anything really there to know yet, is there?"

      Willow flushed even more.  "Well, no, but still … how did you know?"

      Lupin laughed wistfully.  "I see Harry didn't tell you all about me.  Everyone always seems to say 'werewolf' and omit the other details.  I counted Harry's father and godfather among my best friends when I was a Gryffindor, long ago.  Both are dead, and Sirius died childless.  It's likely I will, too.  Harry will be the only memory of us left.  We keep in touch with one another."

      "Oh."

      "It's all right," Lupin said sadly.

      "I'm sorry, anyway.  But … does he … say anything about me?"

      Lupin laughed uproariously.  "Now, now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?" he chided.  His smile was kindly, and he couldn't hide a warm and youthful twinkle behind his eyes.  "Besides, I think it would be better if you asked him yourself, wouldn't it?  I don't think you need to worry, though.  He certainly speaks very well of you."

      Willow smiled, and a warmth that she had not felt in some time returned to her stomach.  She made her way to the door, and added in parting, "he speaks well of you, too."

      Despite the news she was sending, she nearly skipped to the Owlery.

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      AUTHOR'S NOTES:  Thanks again to ShawThang, Peanut Gallery, ShadowElfBard, Tiger Tiger2, EdenMalfoy, unknown reviewer, Jedi Buttercup, WW, Kandice, and NoAlias for your feedback!  You guys rule!

      COMING SOON: Chapter 18, "Who Let the Dog Out?"  The search for Peter does not begin as smoothly as hoped.

      SNEAK PREVIEW:

      "You'll never believe what just happened," she breathed.

      Willow's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as Buffy explained what had happened.

      "So there could be another Death Eater inside the castle?"