DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. I'm borrowing them from the esteemed Joss Whedon and J.K. Rawling. I'm not making any money off this; in fact, if I didn't do this, I could probably get better grades and make more money someday.

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!

CHAPTER 49:

AFTERMATH

Dumbledore stood on the roof of the clock tower in the village hall of Salazar's Crossing, watching the colossal creature soar overhead, noting the wound in its right wing and the fact that it was flying much more slowly than the last Himalayan Elder he had seen, if his memory served him correctly. Nonetheless, it was still moving quickly.

"Dear me, but there's something you don't see every day," he mused. "Perhaps I should have brought Mr. Creevey."

The phoenix on his shoulder gave a dismissive squawk.

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore agreed. "But since I don't have an overenthusiastic paparazzi to follow this story, I wonder if I might impose on you?"

Fawkes gave an assenting, musical chirp and took off into the air after the wounded dragon. Dumbledore cast a quick invisibility charm after him as he lifted off, and turned his attention to other matters.

"Oh, Remus, but you really should be past this by now. Especially in wolf years."

It was the night after the full moon, so Remus Lupin was in his last night of transformation for August, and also his first night of consciousness since early July. He had gotten his potion, so he was perfectly under control, but he was acting just enough like he wasn't to make the small crowd of Death Eaters gathered in the square below and bound by Dumbledore's Anti-Disapparation and Full Body-Bind Jinxes rather nervous. He was circling around them like a sheepdog and occasionally nipping playfully just inches from one or another's ankles, or jumping up and putting his front paws on one or another's chest in order to glare into their eyes.

At Dumbledore's words, he turned and approached the base of the clock tower, giving a soft, almost petulant whine.

"I suppose you could go check up on Harry now," he mused. "I think he's always wanted a puppy."

Lupin ignored that last part, already bounding towards the edge of the village and the stairs towards Malfoy Manor.

"You two might want to go with him," the aged wizard called over the side of the hall, where two young wizards were waiting with their brooms in a large window in the side of the clock tower. "Just in case our young friends don't speak Wolf as well as Snake."

Ron needed no encouragement, and was quickly astride his broom and darting towards the manor. Hermione lingered just a moment longer. "What about you, professor?" she asked.

Dumbledore sighed as the first Aurors began to Apparate into the village square below. "I'm afraid I must return to Hogwarts. It was risky enough for me to leave in the first place, even once Willow had Voldemort distracted."

Hermione nodded, and quickly sped off after her classmate.

Buffy and Draco darted out into the corridor and down the hallway, both noting with some surprise—if anything was going to surprise them at this point—that there was now a breeze blowing freely down the corridor from the Hall of Wisdom. The ruin of the hall came into sight quickly; the balcony and the pillars that had supported it on their way to support the roof had been torn to rubble, and they could see moonlight shining in the chamber ahead. They reached the end of the corridor seconds later.

"Great Salazar …" Draco gasped.

An enormous serpent, well over a hundred feet long and thick as a massive tree, was coiled on the floor, its neck and head stuck out through a gaping hole in the ceiling, though it was descending now. Buffy and Draco quickly ducked back into the cover of the shadows.

"Don't look at it!" Draco hissed. "Its eyes can kill."

"Um … right …" Buffy said, only half-hearing as her eyes remained locked on the great serpent.

Suddenly a white aura erupted around the basilisk, and it began to shrink, fading into a silver, amorphous silhouette that flowed as it shrank into a humanoid form. The same feeling that had brought Buffy upright in Draco's sitting room resonated in the air. Moments later, Buffy recognized the form in the middle of the nimbus, even though the light itself did not die.

"Oh my gosh … Willow!"

Draco looked again in spite of himself, and his mouth dropped open. "Bloody hell …" he whispered as he saw the glowing form of Willow Rosenberg where the basilisk had been only moments earlier.

Moments later, Harry appeared from within an alcove underneath where the balcony had been. He approached Willow slowly, and reached out a cautious hand towards her. Moments later, the aura around Willow winked out, revealing the familiar redheaded wiccan Buffy had always known as she collapsed into Harry's lap.

"Come on," Buffy whispered, quickly mounting her broom and floating down to the floor of the hall. Draco was right behind her.

"Harry!" Buffy called as she landed.

Harry started, but quickly relaxed as he realized who it was. "Hey," he answered softly.

Willow raised herself gently into a sitting position, and turned to smile at Buffy. "Hey," she said softly, though not really whispering. "Missed you."

Buffy felt a tear beginning in her eyes, but she held it back for the moment. "Missed you, too," she gushed. All right, maybe she wasn't holding it back entirely. A moment later, she dropped the sword in her hands and jumped forward to throw her arms around her friend. Willow returned the hug fiercely, and they did not let go for a long time.

When they did, Buffy turned to Draco. The Crown Prince of Slytherin was studiously looking in another direction.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked.

"Oh … just surveying the damage," Draco answered, but there was a tremble in his voice, and Buffy laughed knowingly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about all that," Willow replied.

"It's all right," Draco said absently, too quickly. "Nothing I can't get fixed."

Buffy stood up and slowly circled her arms around Draco's waist from behind. "What's the matter?" she whispered. "Don't like hugs?"

He started at her touch, but ended simply shaking his head resignedly. "I guess I could get used to it," he admitted as he turned around. Buffy noted the faintest hint of mist over his silver irises, and smiled.

Harry gasped at the sight of them. "When did all this happen?" he asked.

Buffy laughed. "Oh. You know. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that stuff."

"Not everyone's relationships get into the Prophet, Potter," Draco jibed, suddenly feeling bold again. He circled one arm around Buffy's waist, drawing her to his side, and she did not pull away.

"Hey! Not like I try," Harry retorted. He turned and offered Willow his hand to help her to her feet, and she took it. Buffy noticed that they held onto each other's hands even after Willow was on her feet again.

"Now, now, children, try to get along," Buffy chided.

Harry grinned roguishly. "Yes, Mother."

"You best get used to it," Draco said pointedly. "Now you're not only the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived, but you're going out with the Girl-Who-Cleaned-You-Know-Who's-Clock."

Willow brightened. "Wow, I did, didn't I?"

"Sure looked that way to me," said Harry.

"And, more seriously, guys …" Willow continued. "… thanks for coming."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," Harry said, drawing Willow into an embrace that mirrored the one Buffy herself was in.

"Oh, that's right, speaking of the world, I've been meaning to tell you … I almost destroyed it last spring."

"Huh?"

"You know, the real reason I was sent to Hogwarts you asked me about. I was like, to learn to control myself, remember? I forgot to mention why they kinda felt I ought to learn to control myself. About burned the place to a cinder last spring. Been meaning to tell you."

"Oh," Harry mused slowly as he processed this. "OK," he said with a smile a moment later. "Just don't do it again, all right?"

Willow grinned roguishly. "Yes, Daddy," she replied, returning his earlier riposte to Buffy.

"I have a feeling you're past it," Harry said, and he held her eyes with his own. "And if not, just remember, I'll always be here for you. Just promise—promise me—you won't leave me behind next time."

Willow laughed wearily. "Yeah, be like, 'hey, want to go smite Draco's house with a bunch of meteors?'"

"Hey!" Draco made a long face at her.

"Sounds like fun," Harry answered impishly.

"And bonus points for using the word 'smite,'" Buffy added.

"If You-Know-Who is here, I think I'd be all right with it," Draco added.

"And you are going to start calling him Voldemort," Buffy said quickly, raising her eyebrows helplessly at the instinctive flinch that crossed his face at the sound of that name. She quickly pulled away from him teasingly.

"All right, all right!" he called. "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!" Buffy, Willow, and Harry laughed, and Buffy returned to Draco's side.

"Harry!" a familiar boy's voice suddenly called out above them. The four students turned their eyes skyward to see Ron Weasley gliding in through the ruined ceiling.

"Ron!" Harry called back. "Glad you could make it!"

"You didn't invite me!"

"Yeah, sorry. There wasn't time."

"Oh, whatever." His eyes suddenly fixed on Buffy and Draco. "Blimey!" he gaped.

Draco fixed him with an amused look. "Hope I didn't steal her from you, Weasley."

"What? Oh, no," Ron answered absently.

Buffy was puzzled for a moment, then what Ron was looking at struck her, and she laughed. She leaned up to Draco, but made her words clearly audible to everyone. "I think Mr. Weasley here likes my outfit."

Ron flushed and hid his face, and a wide grin split Draco's lips. "Amazing. I think Weasley and I actually agree on something. Oh, and … eyes off, Weasley," he finished with a smirk.

"I think Voldemort missed his calling," Willow observed. "He could have been quite a designer. Just picture: Lord Voldemort's Robes for All Occasions."

"He didn't invent that," Draco explained as the others chuckled, though Ron still looked a little uneasy at Willow's casual mention of Voldemort's name. "It's the battle garb of Slytherin sorceresses from ancient times. Though I'd never ask you to wear it again," he finished, softer, to Buffy.

Buffy's eyes widened. It had never even occurred to her that the outfit would carry those kinds of memories with it. She couldn't count the number of outfits she owned that would carry painful memories if she had allowed stuff like that to bring her down. If anything, what she had done to Lucius was eating at her far more than anything Voldemort had done to her. She was about to explain, but at that moment, Hermione darted in through the ceiling.

"Hey Harry!" she called. "You all want to come outside? There's someone here who wants to meet you."

"Oh, here," Draco said, turning his silver eyes toward the doors. They began to swing slowly outward.

"Lupin!" Harry cried, his eyes lighting up. "You're all right!"

Buffy's heart skipped a beat when the werewolf entered, but moments later, she realized that Lupin was firmly under control; Snape's potion seemed to be working. She would never have believed it. I have got to get Oz some of that stuff, she thought again.

"Poor guy couldn't even wait until morning, had to come see you, even like this," Ron commented. "Dumbledore practically had to Stun him to keep him from running up here and jumping in. You'd never know the guy was in a coma this morning."

"Dumbledore was here?" Harry asked, turning around. Lupin sat down on his haunches a few feet away.

"He captured a lot of the Death Eaters Voldemort brought here, the ones that fled back into the village," Hermione answered. "We got about two dozen. Lupin was a big help, actually; apparently it's hard to concentrate enough to Apparate with a werewolf jumping around and snapping at you."

"Well, spiffing, but shouldn't he have been … well, here? Dumbledore, I mean?"

"Harry," Willow said softly, giving his hand a squeeze, "I think this was something I had to do myself."

"Maybe," Harry mused, unconvinced. Buffy made a mental note to ask the old man about that later as well; Willow had certainly made them all proud, but there had to be more to it than that, or Dumbledore wouldn't have taken such a risk. On the other hand, it had all turned out for the best, so maybe he had.

"Fawkes is trailing Voldemort now," Hermione continued, "and Lupin woke up just minutes after you got out of the chamber. Madame Pomfrey thinks you freeing Deggle might have done something, somehow, though she has no idea how."

"Looks like we've got some serious stories to catch up on," Draco said, casting a quick, nervous look at the werewolf sitting only a few paces away and giving him a surprisingly respectful gaze. He had not known that anything had happened to Lupin.

Willow turned and cast her eyes towards the eastern sky. "Don't worry," she said. "I think we've got some time."

"Right," Buffy said, hoisting her broom. "Then let's go home."

Lupin quickly darted away back towards the village, and the others quickly mounted their brooms and took off.

Minutes later, Harry, Willow, Draco, Buffy, Ron, and Hermione were flying northwest over the mountains, away from Malfoy Manor and towards the school again. The sky was cloudless, the August wind was cool, and the land below was bathed in dreamlike silver. Buffy sighed and breathed deeply; it had been forever since she had breathed the free air of the outdoors. Its effect was definitely restorative, but she found that she could not share in the gaiety of the others. The memory of what had come over her in the second-floor corridor and what she had done to Lucius still weighed heavily on her mind. Nevertheless, she buried the memory and forced herself to smile lightly as the others bantered; they had earned their right to celebrate, and her burdens, like those of all Slayers throughout the ages, were hers to bear. She filed the memories away and closed them off; she would have time enough alone to think later.

It was hard to believe that it wasn't even eleven when the six fliers came upon the familiar sight of Hogwarts in the distance, despite the fact that they had largely taken their time on the flight home. They had started sharing stories, but that had quickly gotten far too depressing, so they had moved on to telling jokes, discussing what they were going to do at Hogsmeade the following day, and doing their best to forget some of the worse details of what had happened to them.

As they got closer to the school, Buffy pointed to the top of the astronomy tower. There was a familiar figure standing there, with a long, silver beard and hair gleaming in the moonlight, calmly watching them approach. The others quickly saw the aged headmaster standing there as well, and moments later, they were alighting on the familiar stone of the safest place in England.

"Hi, professor," Buffy said as they landed.

"Good evening, Miss Summers," Dumbledore answered, his eyes twinkling despite their seriousness. "You're looking better than I expected."

"I've been worse," Buffy admitted. "But I've been a lot better."

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded sagely. He turned to the others. "I don't suppose you could give us and Willow some privacy?"

Harry and Draco both looked about to protest, but both quickly shrugged in resignation and followed Ron and Hermione down the stairs and back into the school.

Dumbledore waited a moment, then beckoned the two American girls to follow him. He led them quickly back to his office, turning to the gargoyle as they ascended the stairs and asking it to let them be left alone for a while. He gestured to two plush chairs in front of his desk, and Buffy sprawled into hers gratefully; she noticed Willow seating herself a little more gracefully. She had yet to see Willow make a single sudden movement since emerging from that light back at the manor.

"Quite a night," Dumbledore sighed wearily as he took his own seat behind the desk. He offered them a drink from a jug of kiwi lemonade on his desk.

"I'd say," Buffy agreed, and accepted the drink.

"We heard you came out to watch," Willow added.

"I did," Dumbledore admitted. "The school is much more vulnerable when I'm not here. I couldn't discount the possibility that he was using you to lure me away from the school, especially while Harry was here. Once you and Voldemort started fighting, however, I felt fairly certain that you had his undivided attention—and once Harry left the school, there was much less need for me to be here and much more need for me to be there."

"And … er, don't take this the wrong way … but why didn't you … uh …?"

"Step in and finish it?" Dumbledore finished for the redheaded wiccan, smiling gently. "Well, I did have my hands full with twenty-two captured Death Eaters, but more importantly, in case he still had some fight left in him, I was in the middle of a village. One or two fire blasts …" he trailed off, leaving the two of them to imagine what could have happened.

"Did Willow at least hurt him?" Buffy asked.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore agreed, a sharp glint entering his eyes. "Basilisk venom is almost impervious to magic, so there will be no easy cure unless he has a phoenix willing to cry for him or a fountain of youth squirreled away somewhere, which I very much doubt."

"Where'd he go?"

"Fawkes followed him as far as Greece. He went underwater then. Fawkes was invisible and didn't think he'd been noticed, but that's certainly a good way to avoid a phoenix. I suppose he has an underwater cave. I'll go check tomorrow."

Willow leaned back. "Long night."

"Well, unfortunately, I believe it was much longer than that for one of us," Dumbledore replied empathetically. Buffy fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. There were a lot of memories down that road that she wasn't sure if she was ready to dredge up.

Willow's eyes widened, as though she had just realized the import of what she had said.

"No, no, it's … fine," Buffy said tiredly.

"I believe you," Dumbledore said simply. "But I must ask … is there something you wish to tell me, Buffy?"

She looked up at his eyes, then. Am I that transparent? she wondered. She debated how much she wanted to say, but the memories were starting to return to her, and she found that she could suddenly no longer meet Dumbledore's gaze.

"Buffy?" Willow asked. "Something's wrong."

I am that transparent, Buffy admitted wryly to herself. Nonetheless, the words weren't coming at the moment. "I … I can't," she managed.

"But you want to?" Dumbledore prodded gently.

"I … I do, but I can't," Buffy said, her voice beginning to crack. She had compartmentalized the memories away while Draco and the others had still been there, but she knew she was going to have to deal with them sooner or later. Dumbledore was bringing them back and making her deal with them sooner rather than later, which she knew she should be grateful for, that she probably would be grateful for someday, but it hurt so much to think about them now.

"I might be able to help with that," Dumbledore said softly.

Buffy looked up at him. "How's that?"

Dumbledore reached behind his desk and lifted a large object onto it. It was a wide, ornate bowl.

"This is called a Pensieve," Dumbledore explained. "I occasionally use it to get a better look at my memories than I can in my own head." He touched his wand to his forehead, and when he drew it away, a long, silvery trail of light was attached to the end of it like a long, light strand of hair. He set it in the bowl, and it immediately fanned out across the surface. An image grew in the bowl, showing a rather shocking image: Dumbledore looked to be half-strangling a frightened house-elf in a dark room in a house that looked like it had been lavishly appointed at some point but had fallen into hopeless disrepair. "This was the last time I allowed myself to become perhaps a bit too testy," Dumbledore explained. "It was rather an unpleasant experience. Fortunately, I did manage to get myself under control, but I was a bit upset when this particular house-elf lured Harry into Voldemort's most recent trap for him."

"Looks that way," Willow observed, making a mental note to herself not to get on Dumbledore's nerves. A moment later, the image of Dumbledore in the bowl seemed to collect his wits and chanted something rather forceful; Willow was good enough at lip-reading to perceive a Legilimens charm.

Dumbledore stuck the memory back in his head a moment later. "It's your decision," he said, his voice full of genuine empathy. "But I can sense that something is deeply troubling you, and you must have been through so much."

Buffy thought about it for a minute. Eventually, she made her decision. She didn't want to hide anything from Willow, or Dumbledore, really, even though she still didn't know him that well. She had liked the man ever since he had shown up in her living room. She turned to Willow. "Can you …?" she asked, unable to finish the question.

Willow smiled understandingly. "You sure?"

Buffy took a breath. "Yeah."

"All right. I think so. Just think about whatever's bothering you most." Her skin began to glow from within again, and the same feeling of freshness and vitality that Buffy had felt before resonated in the air. Willow reached out to touch her wand to Buffy's forehead. Buffy breathed deeply, thinking about what she had done to Lucius, when the memory suddenly faded to just a faint skeleton in her mind, like the vague recollection of a long-ago dream. Willow was pulling her wand away from Buffy's forehead, trailing another silver thread from the tip. She quickly tossed it into the Pensieve.

Dumbledore nodded slowly as the image coalesced and began to play itself out again. "I'll be back in a moment," he said softly, and he stuck his head into the bowl. Buffy and Willow both gasped as Dumbledore suddenly vanished into the glowing mist. Willow leaned forward, and looked to be on the verge of sticking her head in after Dumbledore, but she stopped at the last minute, opting to watch the scene from the comfort of Dumbledore's office.

Buffy watched, too, watching what she had done; it was strange, only barely being able to remember it while the images of the memory were in the Pensieve. She realized that she was remembering it secondhand, by remembering thinking about it afterwards, which was why it seemed so faint.

Willow gave a faint gasp. "One bit you?"

"Just for a moment," Buffy admitted.

Buffy couldn't bring herself to watch the rest of the scene, remembering well how it ended even if the memory of committing the act itself was currently in a bowl on Dumbledore's desk. Willow watched with interest, however, and settled back into her chair just as Dumbledore came surging back through the surface of the Pensieve. He straightened his beard and sat back down in his chair, and motioned for Willow to put Buffy's memory back in her head.

"I want to thank you for sharing that," he said. "That must have been hard."

"It … well, yeah," Buffy admitted.

"However, I don't think you need to worry too much about it happening again."

Buffy straightened, and she met his eyes again. Had he read her mind somehow? That was definitely one of the things she had been worrying most about.

"As the Slayer, you have self-defense reactions that are far, far above regular mortals, wizard or otherwise," Dumbledore explained. "When that dementor bit you and attempted to damage your soul, one was triggered. The spirit of the Slayer came forth."

Buffy nodded. She had felt like something else was in control of her, something that was her and yet not her. That made sense. "But why don't you think it could happen again?"

"It would take more than just that. The part of you that keeps the Slayer in balance … the part of you that is completely Buffy Summers … was largely asleep, worn down by pain, weariness, desperation, and months under Voldemort's psychological domination."

Dumbledore's voice suddenly sounded in her head. And I believe it would have taken more than even that, but I would hardly think it proper to speak of such things.

He continued aloud, "Tom always had an uncanny ability to understand the minds of others, more than anyone I've ever met. The odds of those circumstances arising again are, well, minimal, and the damage to your spirit should heal almost as quickly as damage to your physical body, quite likely even stronger than before. You are made of strong stuff, even for a Slayer, Miss Summers, if half of what Rupert tells me is true."

Buffy shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe. Even so, though, I already did it once."

"Perhaps. However, even that may not be irreversible."

Buffy looked up at him again. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "It would appear that young Draco did not allow his father's soul much time to digest," he said. "When the dementor was killed, what was left of his father's soul—almost all of it—would have been released. If there were anyone who knew the secrets of restoring a soul to a soulless body …" he finished suggestively.

That hope came so unlooked-for to Buffy that words abandoned her. She turned her eyes on Willow, who was actually grinning at Dumbledore.

"Let me guess," she mused. "Somewhere in this office—actually, I'm going to go with your robe, you just happen to have an …"

Dumbledore smiled, withdrew a hand from within the folds of his robe, and placed an Orb of Thessala on the desk. "I really must work harder," he mused. "I've worked for so long to make myself unpredictable."

"Your secret's safe with me," Willow said magnanimously, reaching out to take the Orb. "Though someone ought to take care of the body, considering that we're bringing back a criminal this time."

"Lupin and Shacklebolt have already taken care of that," Dumbledore said. "Lucius is in the custody of the Aurors. They have a great many questions they'd like to ask him."

"All right, then, well I guess … one world-class scumbag coming right up."

Buffy breathed a long, weary sigh of relief, and even allowed herself a few belated thoughts of less drastic but no less satisfying things she would like to do to Draco's miscreant father. She gave Dumbledore a hesitant but heartfelt smile of thanks as she and Willow headed for the stairs out of Dumbledore's office.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry about the long time between updates again! Thanks again to everyone who's been with me for all of this time. There are still a couple of chapters left to bring everything to a close; there are still a few loose strings to tie up.

Shouts out to: Kristi, Siren's Call, Anne, mama t, Pamie884, Shabopo, mary4angelus, Sterling-Ag, dragonbaby1987, wackycavegirl, IceBlueRose, Sloane Miette, Jades Arrow, The Cardboard Moon, Ambs, and Fate. Glad you all are still with me!

COMING SOON: Chapter 50(!), "Taking Care of Business." The Hogwarts crowd continue to deal with the fallout of the summer, with some well-deserved, hard-earned fluff and mush thrown in. ;-)

SNEAK PREVIEW:

"I think that was part of why … what happened … well, happened. Dumbledore says it's because I was worn down, but I think there was more. I think there was some part of me … the other part of me, the Buffy part of me … that wanted it to," she admitted moodily. "Or at least didn't mind."