Chapter 6
You Were Only Waiting
o-o-o
It took Faith only a few seconds to realize that Wesley had stopped shouting on the other end of the line. She bent down and carefully lifted the receiver. "Wesley?" she asked quietly, only to hear muffled static in the background. "Wesley?"
There was a loud bang on the other end of the line.
Faith gasped, dropping the phone again before getting to her feet, staring at the receiver on the floor. All at once her senses came rushing back. She needed to get to Wesley and she needed to get there yesterday. Grabbing her coat from the bed, she peeled into the hallway where Joyce was standing.
"Faith? Faith, was that Wesley? Is there something wrong?"
Faith ignored her as she bounded downstairs, feeling as though she were so close to losing control before anger completely overtook her. As she reached the bottom, she came face-to-face with Cordelia. "Oh, I so don't have time for this," Faith muttered, quickly darting past her. She had no idea why Cordelia Chase was awake at four thirty in the morning, much less dressed and ready for action.
"Faith, this is insane!" Cordelia said, turning around to watch Faith shrug on her leather jacket and look around for the set of keys.
"Cordy, Wes is in trouble. I just heard a gunshot or something. He may be hurt or worse and the only way he can get any help is from me. Now, you're driving, so where the hell are your keys?"
Cordelia blinked at her once, as though thinking things through. At last she walked back over to collect her keys. "We should go."
Faith gave her a tremendous half-smile before turning to look up at Joyce. "We'll be okay, Joyce. We just have something to take care of quickly."
"Really," Cordelia said with her usual cheerful smile. "We'll be back in time for dinner."
Faith shot her a dark look before opening the door and bursting outside. Cordelia followed behind her, glancing one last time up at Joyce's flabbergasted face.
"Do you have any idea where we are going?" Cordelia asked as Faith practically ripped the door off her car as she closed it.
"Wesley's townhouse is north of Los Angeles," Faith replied as Cordelia started the ignition. "It would do us both a favor if you hurried it up."
"Right," Cordelia replied, quickly gunning the engine in reverse and practically spinning gracefully onto the street. Faith turned to her, looking mildly irate. "Oh, I suppose you want to get there alive, right?"
"That'd be a good thing," Faith said simply. Cordelia nodded and quickly sped away as Joyce watched quietly from her front door before gently pushing it shut.
o-o
Buffy was awakened by an incessant creaking on the floorboards over her head. She felt something like dust fall from the cracked ceiling, landing on her face. She brushed it away and turned onto her side, willing the sound to go away.
The sound was followed by what sounded like someone screaming in a language other than English. Blinking, Buffy opened her eyes, staring around her dark room. For all she knew, it was still the middle of the night. Her tiny apartment was cold, unwelcoming and window-less. She reached around the mattress to the sticky cement floor trying to find her flashlight. When she found it, the light illuminated the blank white wall and a rather astonishing network of cobwebs. She nearly shrieked at the size of the arachnid dangling from one of the silky strands.
"That's not normal," she breathed, backing off of her mattress and landing on the cold floor. A chair was dragged across the floor directly above her head, the sound seeming to mock her. She was stuck in hell. This had to be worse than hell. She was in Bulgaria, a country she could barely spell, let alone live in comfortable, living in something like a castle. Only, this wasn't a castle. This was a prison. Four white walls, a cold mattress on the floor and spiders the size of saucers floating around.
She dressed quickly, throwing a scathing glance at the shower. She really wanted to clean up well considering she was meeting the rest of the team, but perhaps she could use one of the upstairs bathrooms. This one looked far from hospitable.
It was early morning, she supposed, once she opened the door and was greeted by a blast of hot sunlight. It was so cold in her room that a sweatshirt had been needed, but in this weather, any clothing would be too much. The humidity had dropped somewhat and there were fluffy white clouds overhead, looking more like wispy feathers and tentacles. Despite the warmth, which she figured to be near eighty, she climbed the stairs towards the main veranda. There were several trunks stacked outside the double-wide door that hadn't been there the night before. Along with those was a large blue bin. Since the plastic lid was off, Buffy saw that it was full of thin sticks that looked more like obnoxiously long stakes.
The front door was open. Pushing it lightly, Buffy walked into the main entryway. With the light streaming in from the east, it looked calm and peaceful inside, not nearly as gloomy as it had been the night before. There were voices coming from the parlor now. Removing her sweatshirt and smoothing her camisole top underneath, Buffy entered the kitchen and found it full of people.
"Buffy, good morning!" Giles said, turning around. He looked relieved to see her there. His eyes were bright and his face wore that tight, forced expression that he usually wore when he was irritated. "Did you sleep well?"
"As good as I could," Buffy said. She really wanted to tell him about her less-than-ideal living conditions but she couldn't bring herself to do it. An older woman had suddenly spotted her and brushed Giles aside as though he were an insect, coming to rest a good three feet from where Buffy stood.
"Are you Buffy Summers?" she asked in an arched voice.
"No," Buffy said, crossing her arms. She could tell by the pained expression on Giles' face that this woman was being a total bitch to him. She wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily. "I'm not Buffy Summers. I mean, that's not my legal name now, is it?"
The woman heaved a great sigh, as though Buffy were acting like an insolent child. "What do you prefer to call yourself then, Miss Summers?"
"Buffy is a good start," Buffy said with a slight smirk. "My given name was Elizabeth Potter."
"Is this so?" the woman asked, turning to look at Giles, who hid his gaze behind one of his hands and gave a quirky nod. Satisfied with this answer, she turned back to look at Buffy. She wore square spectacles that slid down her nose, making her eyes, which were a deep blue and rather pinched looking, seem even smaller. Her hair was iron gray and pulled back into such a tight bun at the back of her head that the lines of her face were widened. Her lips were thin, making her look even more gaunt than normal. She was much taller than Buffy. She had to be at least six feet tall, and when Buffy glanced down, she saw an older pair of heels. She had a few pink spots on her cheeks that made her face appear sun-spotted and ancient. She had to be at least fifty, Buffy guessed.
"Yes, it is so," Buffy said in an amused voice. "You may call me Buffy."
"And you may call me Mrs. Ironton," the woman said in a stuffy tone. Her accent was hard to place, although it was clearly European. Buffy noticed that two of the males standing opposite Giles in the doorway to the dining area were whispering back and forth in an unmistakably foreign language. "My name is Irene Ironton. I have been with the Ministry of Magic since before you were born. Of this, I am certain. You look no older than fifteen."
"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, abandoning all pretense to be a bitch. She felt her spine tingle in indignation as she threw Giles a disbelieving glance. "I'm nineteen years old!"
"You hardly seem to be any older than fifteen," Mrs. Ironton continued, her voice turning distinctly colder, as though warning Buffy not to interrupt her again. "They should not put children your age into such danger by placing you in the line of fire night after night."
"Now, just wait a minute," Giles interjected, looking angry. "I—"
"Mister Giles, do shut up," Mrs. Ironton said, throwing him a chilling glance that sent tingles down Buffy's spine. "I thought I told you that to interrupt me was a very foolish idea."
Buffy watched as Giles removed his glasses. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and he refused to meet her eyes.
Is this what he had been doing all morning, listening to this woman insult him? Buffy felt anger flow through her own veins as she met Mrs. Ironton's stone-cold blue gaze.
"So, you are the vampire Slayer," the woman said, walking in a stiff circle around the younger girl. "You may be nineteen, but to this point, you have been misinformed. I never knew of a Slayer to carry such magical powers as I have been told you possess."
"Well, if that's news to you," Buffy said cheerfully, wanting to put this woman in her place. "There's—"
"Buffy," Giles cut in, shooting her a warning look. She suddenly realized that Giles wanted Faith's identity to remain hidden and bit down on her lip, looking away. "What she means to say is that she knows this is unprecedented, but this is the way it is."
"I see," Mrs. Ironton snapped, looking between the two. Her eyebrow arched suspiciously at the callous look on the blonde's face. "Anyway, you know my name. I am an informant for the British Ministry of Magic. I am a level seven vampire hunter and trainer. These," she said, gesturing to the two males in the doorway, "are my pupils."
"Hello," one said with an accent so thick Buffy could barely understand that greeting, let alone any others. "My name is Kristofer."
The other one gave her a curt nod, his eyes dark and glinting. From where she was standing, the figure reminded her slightly of Severus Snape.
"Both Kris and Tom are at level two," Mrs. Ironton said crisply. "From what your former Watcher Rupert here has been telling me, you are too at a level two."
"I am?" Buffy asked, turning to give Giles a hurt look. He didn't meet her gaze though and stared at the opposite wall, chewing the inside of his cheek.
"I will make an analysis during your patrol this evening," Mrs. Ironton said, giving Buffy a look that said that she wasn't going to tolerate Buffy's attitude. "You will go out for two hours at sundown per my instructions."
"Oh, I will, will I?" Buffy asked, feeling fed up with this woman's attitude. She was acting like Principal Snyder for some odd reason. "Listen, Lady Britches, but I work for one person and that's me. I slay alone."
"It is my understanding," Mrs. Ironton said in a loud, brassy tone, "that if you are to work alone, you would do so as a private citizen. Considering that this country is my jurisdiction and not your own, you have no say whatsoever. The Ministry brought you here to be under my protection," she added in a cold tone, her eyes switching briefly to meet Giles'. "Considering that you are under strict orders to be in a place where the violence is far from occurring, I should expect you to follow my orders. If you do not, the Ministry will have no choice but to confine you."
Buffy was seething. She desperately wanted to whack her one, but the look on Giles's face was clear enough. He knew what was at stake here. The Ministry knew she was a loose cannon and didn't know what to do with her. She was going to have to endure Mrs. Ironton for as long as she needed to. She crossed her arms and gave the woman a very stern look before looking away. Mrs. Ironton's face wore a curiously supercilious expression as she turned back to the two males.
"Would you two kindly show Miss Potter here the facilities in the basement? If they are to your liking, I should expect you to commit at least one hour of physical activity down there per day."
"Are you gonna put that in your little black notebook?" Buffy asked sarcastically, indicating the small black book lying underneath Mrs. Ironton's pale palm.
"Tomas," Mrs. Ironton said in a loud, commanding tone.
"Yes, ma'am," came another accented voice as the tall, alluring figure stepped forward to extend his hand towards her. "Right this way, Miss."
"It's Buffy, okay?" she snapped irritably as she stalked past him.
Tomas just gave Mrs. Ironton a long-suffering look before following after her. The soft-spoken Kris also moved away, a hand moving upwards to push his fair hair from his face.
"She is certainly an intriguing individual," Mrs. Ironton said in a stuffy voice, picking up the notebook and a black pen. "I would have expected more accountability on her part."
"If there's one thing you need to know about her," Giles said, fixing her with his piercing look, "it's that you can only push so far before she pushes back."
"I will take that into consideration," Mrs. Ironton said, carefully filling out her notes. "I would expect her to fall into line."
Giles nearly let out a snort of laughter. "Don't count on it," he said with a smirk, moving past her.
"And where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Ironton asked in her deep, demanding voice.
"She's my charge," Giles said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to watch her."
"Obviously you never did your job to specifications," she retorted, giving him a slight smirk in response to his widening eyes. "Anyone can see how underdeveloped she has become. She should have been prepared far more than she has been."
"Considering this past year," Giles said in a hard voice, crossing his arms, "I think she has done remarkably well."
"We shall see," Mrs. Ironton said in her overly dramatic tones.
Giles smirked as he turned around and stared at the grand staircase leading into the basement. She had no idea what she'd stepped into. His Buffy was going to show her how a Slayer truly acted.
Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he had to work hard to hold in his laughter. Both Kris and Tomas were lying on their stomachs with Buffy standing over him, her hands on her hips. When she saw Giles staring at her, she gave him a guilty smile.
"Well, she told me to show them," she said with that innocent sparkle in her eyes.
He shook his head and bent down to see Tomas pushing himself up painfully from the ground. "You all right?" he asked gently.
The boy shook his head, his hand rising to stem the flow of blood from his nose. "I think she broke my vose," he said in a thick Bulgarian accent.
"So sorry," Buffy said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. Giles gave her a quick look and she shrugged uncomfortably under his scrutiny before bending down to help Kris upwards. "Sorry about that."
He shook his arm from her grasp, glaring at her. "You may think you are strong, Slayer," he said in his accented voice. Giles knew that from the look on her face, she couldn't understand him very well.
"I kicked both of your asses, didn't I?" she asked with that impish grin.
"We did not have time to prepare," Tomas said, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose. Buffy stepped towards him, looking concerned, but Kris pulled her back. Or, rather, he stuck out his arm and she dragged him along a good ten feet before her Watcher had intervened.
"What is this, a classroom?" Buffy asked in disbelief.
"We have been properly taught how to fight the evil and the other forces of darkness," Kris said quietly.
"Oh," Buffy said, tilting her head. "So, you guys have seen a few pictures and had a few well-coordinated hunts, right?"
"That is correct, yes," Tomas replied.
Buffy sighed heavily. "Giles…"
"You'll have to forgive her," he said, giving both young men a quiet smile. "She usually isn't very patient."
"They've been learning how to fight vampires from a classroom, Giles. A classroom! There's no instinct, there's no seeing that there's three seconds between you and certain death… there's nothing but someone teaching you how to whittle a stake!" Buffy cried, exasperated. "Giles!"
"How are we all squaring off down here?"
Buffy turned to look at the cold face of Mrs. Ironton. Buffy believed the iron actually ran through her veins. She turned and gave Giles a helpless look. She was trapped in hell, literally. She thought that vampire hunting with an actual team would be fun. Sure, and then they'd all go out for a controlled ice cream run afterwards. She imagined Mrs. Ironton's evening of fun would be sitting in front of a fireplace bitching at a bunch of young girls and telling them how to be a lady.
"I wish for you to prepare for tonight," Mrs. Ironton said stiffly. "Garments were special ordered and brought in. Also, you received a shipment almost ten minutes ago. I placed it on the kitchen table. After breakfast, you will clean up and prepare to move into one of the rooms on the main level."
"I can leave that crappy apartment?" Buffy gasped, forgetting for a second that she was being ordered around like a six-year-old.
"You may, but only if you fall into line," Mrs. Ironton said archly.
Buffy sped past her and found a box of black pants and black tops waiting for her on the counter. She took the box with her over to the dining room table where a large basket was waiting. Inside the plastic wrap were several layers of boxed sweets and tricks. Buffy felt a slow grin moving across her face as she pulled out a small pack of Fizzing Whizbees.
Those twins could always brighten her day.
There was a letter tucked inside, too. She pulled it out and read it, a smile growing broadly on her face. She wished that she could set Fred and George Weasley on Mrs. Ironton and the two double morons. Then they'd learn a lesson or two about messing with the best.
Oh, that thought cheered her up completely.
o-o
Harry woke up early the next morning. It was Monday, the first day of his last year at Hogwarts. He pushed aside the hangings around his four-posted bed and found himself smiling cheerfully across the room. The four other beds looked quiet and peaceful. Turning, he saw that it was shortly before seven.
He rose and dressed quickly, not wanting to wake the others. He thought he heard Dean's hangings stir, but didn't turn around.
The path down the steps was the longest yet. Being on the seventh floor of the tall tower made him feel all grown up, but he knew it was because the younger students would tire quickly after having to climb so many stairs.
The Common Room was nearly empty. He smiled at Ginny and her friends, who were gathered near the fire, chatting excitedly about their new courses. He saw a small group of second years, including Laurel Wood, sitting near the window. They were whispering and giggling. When Harry walked over to them to say hello, he saw that Laurel had turned bright red before turning to look up at Harry.
"Hi, there," he said in a friendly voice. The girls immediately giggled while Laurel seemed to have trouble breathing.
She finally managed to squeak out a tiny "Hello" before the entire table erupted. Harry didn't know what was going on and turned away, only to come face-to-face with the vivacious redheaded Weasley girl. She looked extremely amused about something as she pulled him aside. She seemed to soften slightly at the hard looks she was now receiving from a table full of twelve-year-old girls.
"What in blazes was that about?" Harry asked, astounded.
"Someone has a crush," Ginny said, a small smile playing around her lips.
"Gee, I wonder what that's like," Harry said, giving her a bemused smirk. She started laughing and shook her head vehemently.
"Trust me, Harry. I'm sure your sister was bragging her head off about you," Ginny said, giving him a conspirator's wink. "She was bound to pick things up."
"Oh, right," Harry said, his mood souring somewhat. He actually had no idea what his sister would say about him. He wondered though, considering the twelve-year-old girls were now waving impishly at him while giggling behind their spare hands. "Instead I have a table full of groupies."
"You'd better get used to it," Ginny said, giving him a soft look.
"What about you?" Harry asked. He realized suddenly that he hadn't seen Ginny with any of his friends as of late.
"I'll be okay," she said with a shrug.
"What happened to Dean?" Harry asked.
"Buffy threatened to ostracize him, whatever that means," Ginny said with a shudder. "She didn't think he was right for me."
"And you actually followed her advice?" Harry asked incredulously.
"It's not like it would ever hurt to try it out," Ginny said defensively, leading the way as they started towards breakfast. "I mean, she has Percy's respect… that's got to mean something, right?"
"Yeah," Harry said absentmindedly. "He didn't say anything to you about Dean, did he?"
"Percy wouldn't do that," Ginny said quietly. "It isn't his style."
"But he would go to Buffy," Harry said, something like anger in his voice. "If he didn't like Dean, he would definitely try to talk Buffy into talking to you."
"No, she wouldn't do that," said Ginny defensively, the tips of her ears turning pink. As with Ron, this was always a warning sign. It made her look as though her head was boiling from the bottom up. "She may be a lot of things, Harry, but she's not into coercion."
"Maybe you're right," he said slowly, not wanting to completely anger her.
"I am right," Ginny said, glaring at him. There was an awkward pause before she added, "Maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do."
These words stung slightly, but they were the truth. Harry had only spent a year with her. He really didn't know her. He knew she killed vampires. He knew she was very dedicated to her friends and to him. But he didn't know much else. He didn't know her favorite color or which magazines she liked to read or even her favorite beverage or pair of jeans. There were still a lot of unknowns hanging between them and Harry also admitted that if asked, she wouldn't be able to answer these questions about him either.
"Yeah," said Harry, speeding up slightly. Ginny seemed to realize she'd said something wrong and hurried to catch up with him.
"Harry, wait," she said, chasing him towards the stairs. "I didn't mean it like that!"
"Well, it's the truth, isn't it?" Harry shot back. "I'm never going to have the nice happy family like you do. I'll never have two loving parents and heaps of brothers who love, adore and know me so well. All I'll ever have is her."
There were tears sparkling on Ginny's lashes now. "Is that enough for you?" she asked tearfully.
"Yeah," Harry said defensively, tipping his chin upwards. His emerald eyes were blazing with fury now. "She's all I'll ever need. She's my sister. I had nothing once… and now I have her. She may have done some things neither one of us could be proud of but underneath it all, she's still blood."
Ginny forced herself to nod. She couldn't bring herself to say anything else. Harry turned around and continued downstairs. She watched him for a moment before following behind. It was only when she heard a nasal voice from far below did she look up again.
The door to the Slytherins' dungeons was opening just as Harry passed before it. Draco Malfoy had stepped around the opposite side and, seeing Harry standing there alone, sneered. "Well, if it isn't Granger's precious Potter."
Ginny bristled, immediately reaching into her robes for her wand.
"Go bark up someone else's tree, Malfoy," Harry said shortly. "I'm not in the mood."
"Not so friendly today, are you?" Draco asked gleefully as Crabbe and Goyle entered the hall from behind him, the door closing heavily, as though sentencing Harry to a dark fate. Ginny stood in the shadows, uncertain of whether she could intervene or go and get help or something.
"No, not really feeling the need to be friendly to you of all people," Harry snapped, his eyes darkening. First, Ginny had mocked him. Now, of all people, Malfoy was picking up the slack. What a bad morning, he thought tragically, especially when it was one he had looked forward to so openly.
"Didn't your Muggle relatives ever teach you any manners?" Draco sneered as Crabbe flexed his muscles. Goyle neatly plucked Draco's wand out of his robes and handed it over to his leader.
"They taught me how to wash behind my ears and say my 'please' and 'thanks'," Harry said, crossing his arms. He really didn't want to stand there and take this, but after everything else, he wasn't going to just let it go this one time.
"Where are your shadows?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing malevolently. At Harry's hesitation, his smirk grew more pronounced. "They're not here to protect precious Potter?"
"No," Harry said, a smile spreading across his face.
"What are you smiling at?" Draco demanded.
"Oh, just a little something my sister told me about you," Harry said, turning his anger into his intent to mock Draco in front of his so-called cronies.
"And exactly what did your sister say?" Draco asked, his eyes suddenly sparkling with interest. Harry had hit it on the mark. Draco still cared for Buffy.
"She told me what a nasty, inferior git you were," Harry said in a voice of quiet triumph. "She said you were so far beneath her that you couldn't see the light of day."
Buffy, of course, would never say such a thing. She found Draco to be a funny, immature little boy with a schoolgirl's crush on someone he would never be able to touch. Of course, saying that in her own words would have infuriated Malfoy even more.
Draco gave Harry a long look before turning to look at his two cronies. "Let's go."
As they marched into the Great Hall, Harry waved sarcastically after them. Once the door had swung shut, he glanced up to see Ginny emerging from the shadows. "Thanks for your help."
"You had it under control," she said breathlessly. She had never seen a tirade between the two end without blood.
"Well, I do have something up on him," Harry said, smirking slightly.
"Oh?" Ginny asked curiously.
"That'll be five points from Slytherin," Harry said, turning to the hourglasses over their heads. The few green stones inside the structure disappeared, leaving the Slytherin's glass completely drained. "I knew I'd like this job."
"You've got to be careful, Harry," Ginny warned in an undertone as she and Harry entered the Great Hall. "He'll be likely to get you back for that."
"Head Boy's privilege," Harry said proudly, tapping on the badge he wore on his school robes. "I can give detention, too. Imagine Draco doing two weeks of detention with Madam Pince…"
Even Ginny felt the evil smile spread across her face. Spotting Hermione already sitting at breakfast, she and Harry rushed over to join her.
Draco, meanwhile, was sitting angrily with the small group of Slytherins at their table.
"That Potter has got to go down," Theodore Nott was saying in his dark tone, throwing a scathing look at Harry from behind a long fringe of muddy brown hair.
Draco felt the raw feeling of hatred stir within him as he spied Ginny parting ways with Harry before joining her own friends at the opposite end of the table. His eyes settled first on Hermione and he felt a cold smile move across his face. "He'll get what's coming to him. I told Father in my last letter that I would handle Potter."
"Oh?" Theodore asked, turning to look at Draco with interest. Like Malfoy, Theodore had been an orphan over the summer. Narcissa Malfoy was a brutally cold-willed woman, sarcastic and catty as the rest of them. The instant she found that her husband's estate had become Ministry property, she had moved herself and Draco into a small house on the outskirts of London. It was nothing like the large, spacious mansion he was used to, but it was a roof over his head and four walls to keep England's driving rains out.
Theodore, on the other hand, had been taken in by Child Protective Services, which had placed him in a halfway house. They feared he would take the same path his Death Eater of a father would and spent six weeks in deep religious training, resenting every last minute of it.
"Potter will pay," Goyle promised, crackling his knuckles and guffawing stupidly.
"Not at first," Draco said casually. He'd spent the entire summer planning this out. Hell, his own mother had been the mastermind of it all, he thought, feeling a bit proud of his mother's abilities. His eyes traveled from Hermione over to Ginny. His mother had instructed him that the closest shot to a man's heart was through the skull of his lady. Buffy was already out of the picture Narcissa had assured him. She would be taken care of in Bulgaria. That left Hermione and Ginny, but Draco was uncertain as to which one he should go after first. He noticed Pansy's cool look towards Hermione as she took the spare seat on the opposite side of Draco.
"You never looked at her that much before," she said glumly, watching the way Draco's smirk grew more pronounced at seeing Ginny's flaming red hair swinging freely about her shoulders. "What's up now?"
"Potter," Theodore replied.
"Oh," Pansy said, an evil little smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "Well, maybe you should—"
"There'll be no sleeping with the enemy, Parkinson," Draco barked, a little too hard for her tastes. Her eyes narrowed, but her jaw snapped shut. Her look was mutinous and he knew she wanted to deck him one for even suggesting what he had been suggesting.
"I wasn't," she said in a hard voice. "I was thinking about the other."
Draco's look relaxed slightly as he took in the thoughtful expression on her face. "You may have something there."
"I know I do," she said, giving him a sweet smile that didn't quite reach up to the depth of her cold, traitorous eyes. "Dumbledore is going to rue the day he even spoke out against Voldemort."
Draco was just thinking the same thing, along with the thought that Pansy and his mother would get along perfectly. He turned his eyes towards his plate but lifted them once at the sound of Hermione's laughter. The owls were arriving and, if Draco's father had been correct, something special for Potter would be arriving just about…
"Hey, Harry, you got a package!" Hermione said happily, handing her owl a knut before taking her copy of The Daily Prophet. "Who's it from?"
"I don't know," Harry said in a confused voice, taking the small white box from Hedwig and shoving his goblet of orange juice under her beak. She took a quick draught before spreading her wings and taking flight again. He was about to untie the bright red ribbon when Ron suddenly appeared, dropping his bag next to Harry as he sat down quickly.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" Ron asked, running a hand through his long red hair and pulling a platter of bacon towards him.
"I was up early," Harry said, setting the ribbon aside.
"Who is that from?" Ron asked, eyeing the box suspiciously as he piled on scrambled eggs on top of his bacon.
"I don't know," Harry repeated, about to lift the top off when suddenly Professor McGonagall appeared.
"Harry, Ron," she said, nodding at both boys, "I would like to see you both in my office after your first lesson is complete. I happen to know you each have a free period after your Double Charms."
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.
Across the room, Draco was growing impatient. "Just open the bloody box," he said, a mean smile playing with the corners of his mouth.
Once she had gone, Harry set the box aside and turned to Ron, chattering happily.
But Hermione's attention hadn't left the small white box. "Maybe it's from your sister," she suggested, breaking into their conversation about Quidditch practice and who would make a good Chaser now that they had lost two to graduation, both Buffy and Katie Bell.
"Maybe," Ron said, swallowing his eggs as Harry reached for the box again.
When he opened it, he felt faint suddenly. He dropped the box on his plate.
Hermione's eyes widened as she jumped to feet, backing away quickly, gasping out, "Oh!" Her mouth seemed to be open in a small 'o' shape, her lips perfectly formed. But it wasn't an expression of surprise. It was an expression of shock and disgust.
Ron just stared at the box, fascinated.
Ginny had heard Hermione's scream and had come running. The moment she had seen the box, she had fainted, her pale face wan and lifeless as she crashed to the floor. The Hufflepuffs at the next table responded to Ginny's reaction and hurried over to see what had happened to her. Hannah Abbott leaned down to gently extract Ginny from the stampede before she was trampled to death.
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. His mind was reminding him of a conversation that his Uncle Vernon had had with him back before his third year: the only way to deal with his kind was to hang them.
Apparently his Uncle had met the same gruesome fate.
There was a picture on the underside of the box lid of his uncle hanging by his individual fingers, one of them removed. There was a bloody stump where there had once been a true, working limb. His face appeared waned and beaten, but his eyes had lost a bit of their sanity. Even now his skin appeared bloated and almost disfigured, as though he'd spent a great deal of time in the water. It was clear from every perspective that his Uncle Vernon had been tortured to death.
His Uncle's form was limp and immobile, not moving. It wasn't really doing anything except reminding Harry that his Uncle was dead. Another member of his family, no matter how much he despised him, had been taken away. He couldn't help thinking, one more down…
Nearly the entire Great Hall had erupted now and Professors McGonagall and Snape were the only two inside Hall with the authority to shut everyone else up. Minerva quickly made her way through the screaming, crying hoards and saw the box lying on Harry's plate. She clapped a startled hand over her mouth before chancing one look at the expression on Harry's face.
His Uncle's finger was lying inside the box. There were still bits of broken bone and cords of some muscle he didn't know hanging off of the severed limb. It was lying on top of a bit of black parchment, as though mocking him. He remembered how many times his Uncle had shaken that index finger at him, usually to confront him or else insult him.
Feeling sick, Harry turned to rush from the Great Hall as the room grew louder behind him. Even Snape's valiant attempt to hold back the students wasn't working.
"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried, but it was too late.
The doors had already swung shut behind him.
And Draco Malfoy sat down on his bench, a smile of deep satisfaction on his face.
o-o
The door to the small single room creaked open and a sharp redhead glanced out.
Willow felt her gaze penetrate the quiet hallway before she risked stepping out, hurriedly closing the door to her magically enhanced room behind her. She had just pulled her key out of the lock when she saw a shadow of someone standing next to her.
"Hello," came a calm voice and a hand was thrust under her nose. "I'm Anne."
"Willow," she said, and the two shook hands.
"You got the best room in the building," Anne said, giving Willow an envious look. "I applied for that room, but they said they gave it to the American exchange student. I'm assuming that would be you."
"Yeah, that's me," Willow said with a quick smile.
"You ready for orientation?" Anne asked, pulling out a notebook as the two stepped towards the staircase and began moving down with the rest of the crowds. "I'm a bit excited myself."
"Where are you from?" Willow asked, attempting to initiate conversation.
"Oh, the south," Anne said vaguely, gesturing lamely. "I'm curious to know where you are from. You've got such a striking accent."
"California," Willow admitted. "I'm transferring from the University of California for a semester abroad."
"Really?" Anne asked, looking mildly intrigued. "Well, I hope you'll enjoy our weather over here. It gets a bit cold for those of California tastes."
"I didn't really think so," Willow interjected. "I mean, my best friend came over here last year."
"Did she now?" Anne said, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "And you decided you were jealous enough and wanted the same experience?" She held the door open for Willow as they both walked out into the early morning Oxford light.
Willow grimaced. The thought of going through what Buffy had the year before was not enticing in the least. Facing off against Death Eaters, watching your own Council go up in flames and finding your identity was not something Willow was very eager to do. She was perfectly happy with the life she had at the moment and she told Anne this.
"A pity," Anne said with a dramatic sigh. There was a sudden crash and a shriek. Willow spun around to see a young woman standing in the middle of a circle of students.
"What's that all about?" Willow asked quietly. "I thought I read somewhere that there's no hazing on campus."
"There isn't," Anne said, an ugly expression on her face. "That girl lives in our building."
"She does?" Willow asked, watching as the circle pressed in on her. She shrieked again and Willow nearly jumped when she heard Anne's sharp laughter next to her.
"There's something you have to know about that one," Anne said, pointing at the girl with a look of disgust spreading across her face.
"What's so horrible that they have to scare her like that?" Willow asked defensively.
"She's a pagan," Anne said, as though the very word was an insult. "You know, she's a witch."
Willow drew in a sharp breath, but Anne didn't appear to have heard her. So, Anne was against witches. The girl currently being followed and mocked rudely was apparently also a witch. Before Willow knew what she was doing, she was stalking across the narrow road and practically jumping into the circle of students.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips, her schoolbag swinging onto her hip.
"Why don't you ask her?" one of the boys asked, pointing a rude finger at a tall, curvy blonde cowering near one of the benches. "Ask her and she'll do a Sabrina on you!"
"Don't you know that's a myth?" Willow asked, forcing herself to sound sympathetic. "I mean, really… witches? The next thing you'll tell me is that there are ghosts… and-and Slayers!"
The boy glared at her for a moment. "Fine," he said, smirking slightly. "Fine. But you know what they did to witches in the old days, mate? They burnt 'em."
"That's not what you'll be doing here," Willow said crossly. She was ready to show her own true colors if these boys didn't let up.
"Why don't we just leave her alone?" a pretty brunette asked. "We're asking for trouble anyways."
"I think that's a dandy idea, don't you?" Willow asked, turning to the girl standing behind her. The girl came forward slightly, looking up from under a curtain of dark blonde hair.
She had the softest eyes and the most pixie-like expression Willow had ever seen. The girl was obviously harmless.
"Go away," she said in a trembling voice. It was barely loud enough for Willow to hear, let alone the others.
"Did you hear what that witch said?" the girl asked with a shriek of laughter. "She told us to go away!"
"Why don't you listen to her, then?" Willow asked, turning around to glare at the girl. "To get to her, you'll have to come through me."
"Keep this up, and you'll be very lonely on this campus," the girl warned, her eyes narrowing. "Protecting witches got their companions flamed up in old times, too."
"How many humans had to die first because they kept doing the same shit you're doing?" Willow retorted. "Now, go, get out of here!"
Anne watched with quiet admiration as the group dissolved and headed in separate directions. She ran across the path to get to Willow, but the redhead wouldn't look at her. The tall blonde girl had suddenly collapsed on a bench, tears streaking down pale cheeks.
"I-I didn't know wh-what I was g-g-going to do if they k-k-kept ha-harassing me," she said, taking large gulps of air, her large blue eyes meeting Willow's soft brown gaze. "Th-Thank you."
"What are you doing?" Anne asked in an angry voice. "First you defend her and then you stay with her? Good luck trying to find any friends on this campus!" Turning her nose, Anne sped off in the same direction that some of the others had gone in.
The blonde watched as the redhead sighed, shrugging helplessly. "And here, it's only my first day."
Slowly, Willow looked down as she felt a damp hand touch her own.
"I'm sorry," the blonde stuttered, getting to her feet. "Y-You're not from En-England either?"
"California," Willow admitted.
"Connecticut," the blonde said with a pretty half-smile. "My m-m-mum was from h-here though, so I went to sch-school here…"
"I'm Willow," the redhead said, taking the blonde's hand and smiling at her. "Willow Rosenberg."
"My name is T-Tara Maclay," the girl said, giving her an impish grin behind the large tears still in her eyes.
"Okay, Tara," said Willow, releasing her hand quickly. "Where do I go to get myself orientated?"
"This way," Tara said, and together they moved along the path. But, in the distance, a pair of dark eyes watched their movements carefully.
They were only waiting, after all.
o-o
Faith and Cordelia arrived at Wesley's condominium mid-morning. They found the front door had been kicked open. Moving inside, Faith examined the fact that the entire living room had been ripped apart. Cordy, on the other hand, had seen the blood on the far wood paneling, her hand running along the entire extent before she pulled back, looking disgusted.
"Where is he?" Faith asked angrily, kicking over a broken chair before spying the telephone on the floor. The dial tone was beeping on the other end.
"Faith," Cordelia said, gesturing towards the hallway. Faith nodded and both women swept into the narrow corridor. The hallway was dark.
Both the bedroom and the bathroom appeared to be untouched. Cordelia could tell by the look on Faith's face that whatever this was wasn't good news.
As they moved back into the living area, Faith turned towards the kitchen. "Take that phone," she said quickly, "and call Angel. Let him know where we are and what's happened to Wesley. He should begin looking for him immediately."
"What about you?" Cordelia asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Just do it, okay?" Faith snapped before turning back, her eyes glowering. She heard Cordelia on the phone behind her as Faith walked around. She finally found what she was looking for. Checking to make sure that Cordy was still occupied on the phone, she bent down and pried open a locked cabinet door. Inside were a stack of papers and a narrow, flat box. Tucking the box into the interior pocket of her leather coat, Faith tucked the papers into the opposite pocket before getting to her feet.
Cordelia had just hung up the phone when she suddenly noticed a blinking green light on the opposite wall. "What's that?" she asked in a nervous voice.
Faith saw it just before it switched to red. "Run!" she shouted. She dove over the table, grabbing Cordelia's shirt just as the wall behind them began to explode. The force propelled them through the front window. As the shards of glass rained down around them, they landed hard in the crunching bushes.
"Whoa," Cordelia whispered, watching as smoke and flames shot through the open window. Another explosion sounded from inside.
"Yeah," Faith said, her eyes filled with anger. "Whoa."
"What was that?" Cordelia asked, awestruck.
"A message," Faith replied, angrily pushing herself off of the ground and dusting her hands on the fronts of her jeans. "I'm getting a little sick of this!" she shouted into the morning. "You can try and blow me up, but you'll never shut me up! Never! You'll have to kill me the old fashioned way!"
"Faith, what in the hell are you doing?" Cordelia asked, her face paling as she saw the anger written across Faith's.
"They killed Wesley, Cor… don't you understand anything?"
"How can we be certain he's really dead?"
"Did you see a body inside there?"
"Well, no, but that doesn't mean—" Cordelia began, but Faith was shaking her head.
"No, it means something," Faith replied. "If he isn't dead, then he's safe or else he'll be dead soon. You need to get to Los Angeles."
"What about you?"
"I have a little business to take care of," Faith said, angrily pushing her way through the bushes and heading for Angel's convertible. "They've pissed me off, now."
"The bad guys?" Cordelia asked in a small voice from behind her.
Faith practically pulled the door off of its hinges she was shaking so badly. "Not this time," she sighed.
o-o-o
Chapter 7… Buffy spends time trapped in her mind in a world where James and Lily are still alive. Faith makes the biggest decision of her life. Draco steps up his own plans, while the Death Eaters finally make their move.
Chapter 8… Faith makes a startling discovery about Buffy's newest dreams and realizes that someone or something may be messing with time. The new DADA professor isn't exactly what she seems to be… so why in the heck did Dumbledore hire her for their final year? Hermione is given the chance of a lifetime, but it may mean a huge sacrifice on her part. The seventh years go through their final career counseling.
o-o-o
Chapter Notes
I really love the alternate-reality chapters. I had two in the last story, where the past is delved into and there is much pain and suffering. That's just your little warning for the next chapter!
I am so unbelievably sorry that it took me two months to get this chapter posted. It took me forever to figure out which direction I wanted to go. I really want to finish this story and therefore and working hard on revamping the outline slightly. I do want to post a chapter per week, but that's a bit optimistic. I promise three updates a month at the very least. I'm aiming for a June finish now. I have been writing Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossovers for a year now… can you believe it? I've only finished two stories as it is… oi!
I know this chapter wasn't nearly as long as some others. I'm trying to shorten them slightly as the chapters from the beginning part of the story were obnoxiously long… as in twenty five pages or more. This one had between fourteen and fifteen… that's a comfortable length. There is still a lot of story to tell.
Reviewer Comments
You all have such fabulous ideas on how this story should flow! I might have to make use of some of them because some might actually work. My beta-reader and I were discussing different ways the plot could twist, and these ideas would certainly add to this story. Currently, it's planned at 25 chapters. It may or may not grow, depending on how long the chapters get. There are some two-part chapters coming again.
But first, to the comments…
Sparky24: It's really hard to stay original when there are far too many fabulous stories out there. Thank you so much for your comments! Yes, Giles is alive and well. I figured Buffy could use a Watcher or an English-speaking person right about now.
Naitch03: You're right about one thing… if Harry were to die, he could come back ala Buffy. As for Buffy getting poisoned, it wasn't intentional. It just happens when you're in a foreign country and you ingest something foreign in nature, you tend to get sick. And, no, I don't think Harry was too insulted about the Ravenclaw's comment. I think that it was mere surprise on that part. I won't even begin to say how the Slytherins are carrying on. As for Wes carrying on, he always had a way with words. He's lost his entire family (even if he didn't like them) and he knows how much Harry means to these people, hence the "AAAAH" factor. And, as for Wes dying or potentially disappearing, it's always good to have a Slayer on your side.
General Mac: okay.
Maleficus Lupinus: See, I'm usually one to see Harry survive to the end of all things, but I'm not really sure that's what J.K. is going for. That prophecy may have been well-written in the fifth book, but it leaves a lot of unknown questions. I'm perfectly happy to let Harry live out the end. On the other hand, he can always come back. I'm not really torn about it, it's just deciding which way to take a story already planned through to the end… and yeah, it gets confusing. Giles was always a surprise for me, and I think he'll continue to surprise to the end… but that's just our Giles.
StrawberryChild: Or… "He's dead." The end. I don't think I could do it that way, but honestly… it would be an interesting take on the entire story. But… in the end, there can only be one choice. Maybe. This is one of those things I was talking about up there… you give me good ideas, and I think "hmmm". It's not always a good thing.
Lightdemondarkangel: It really wasn't that much of a cliffhanger, I swear! I just ended it there because it felt like I should end it there. Willow and her magicks will eventually be involved, but to the level of your thinking? I'm not sure… it would be awesome to see the white-power compared to the darker powers carried by both Buffy and Faith – despite the fact that Faith is a squib.
The Lady Morgaine: Wow, thank you! The Spike-Buffy relationship was something I really, really liked in certain stories (for example, anything by Kallysten, which is the reason why I joined this site in the first place). Faith and Spike will not have a relationship other than the current one they have now. He doesn't love her and she's sort of hooked on another person. As for Tara, I adore her character (I loved her so much I brought her back in my other series), but adding her to the story might be iffy. I do have an idea though, and I'll see if I can work it in.
Chazza: Why, thank you :)
DarkAngelMali: I know it's been almost forever since I have updated, so I apologize profusely. I promise to update on a more regular basis from now on! Spuffy was the first pairing I ever read - thank Kallysten for that… considering her stories got me involved on this site in the first place. I was open to try something new, and it was Grace who convinced me a B/O might be a different direction. The couple will be together again… someday. Maybe. Hopefully.
CallieRiverI will, I will, I promise.
Smurfinator: Lily and James are acting weird because they aren't Lily and James… not really, anyway. The next chapter should clarify that a bit. Xander will be back in the story dubbed in the Faith storyline. I'm not going to put them together considering she obviously has feelings for Harry, but he gets involved in Sunnydale in a big way. As for Faith and Buffy turning evil, I will only say this: the Dark Mark sort of reversed their dark side. They may be marked, but they want to stay good. It'll factor in later.
Lady Mione: I am so sorry for not posting. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I do promise a lot of excitement in the future!
Electric Pancake: I am using my own experiences to explain cooking fires and making bread. I had a horrible camping experience when I was seventeen and hoped to pass that along to this story. We had to carry canoes and such between portages and were walking in cranberry bogs… one of my old hockey teammates ended up falling through. It was kind of funny in a really ironic sort of way. My dinner ended up being thrown into the lake by accident (a loon was attacking my "partner's" baseball cap so he threw my tinfoil dinner at it) so… that's just the tip of the iceberg. The Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness… a beautiful area I really hope I don't have to visit again with people like them! I'm glad you liked such a pretty chapter… the next few aren't going to be so pretty, sadly enough. Oh, and as for the Giles comment, I think it was supposed to be separate from your note, unless I was trying to make a point... I don't remember.
Anne: I'm sorry! It's been taking me forever to get the time to write this chapter out. I finally had nine pages and considered ending it there but no… my beta pushed me on. She had this thing read in all of one night, too.
Lastly, my other stories will be updated before my "vacation" begins next Monday. I wanted to get this done before I left with a guilty conscience. My vacation actually consists of tests I need to take to keep my nice government job, but well worth it considering I get to stay by myself in a nice hotel in a pretty city for three days... or not.