Note: This chapter was one of the more difficult ones to write as there are a lot of characters in this one and a lot going on concerning two in particular. When I look at how much story is left to tell, this chapter has basically become a dumping ground for information. We jump ahead another few weeks as characters continue to evolve… together. There are still a few things I'm trying to get out, one of which was quite a surprise to even me.
Chapter Summary: The fate of Rupert Giles is learned as well as the outcome of his battle with Kristofer… Faith reveals what was really written in her letter from Evan Rosier… Harry begins to process what was told to him in the last chapter and acts on it… Wesley continues training Faith knowing that she still has a long way to go… and Willow returns with a message for Harry…
Chapter 14
What You Leave Behind
x-o-o-x
So say it loud and let it ring. We are all a part of everything
The future, present and the past.
Fly on proud bird. You're free at last.
- Charlie Daniels
x-o-o-x
"Do you realize it'll be Christmas in just a few weeks?"
Willow glanced up from her thick psychology text and smiled at the figure standing at her window, staring at the tiny flakes swirling by the window. "The time has gone by so quickly, I'd almost forgotten," she said softly, stretching her arms over her head and yawning. "That means finals, parties…"
"Christmas carols, hot chocolate, cookies…"
Willow's smile faded and took on a nostalgic look as she removed the book from her lap and set it aside, getting to her feet. "I guess I miss the American-style Christmas celebration. Except the fact that I'm, you know, Jewish."
"It was better than trying to convince your mates why you celebrate Thanksgiving," Tara smirked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she sat on the rocking chair jammed into Willow's tiny room. "And I did offer to make you your very own dradle." Willow snickered as she drew her shades closed before turning back to Tara.
"I don't think they minded it much," Willow admitted. "I mean, gobs of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes…"
"I'm a cranberry girl myself," Tara replied. "You can only have too many—" Her voice was cut off as there was a sharp rap on the door before it creaked open.
"Wil? You in here?"
"I'm here," Willow said, maneuvering herself between her furniture as she saw one of the girls that lived down the hall hovering in her doorway. "What's up?"
"There's someone on the phone asking for you. He says his name is Angel."
Willow's eyes widened before her composure took over. As her suitemate left her room, she glanced at Tara, who looked surprised. Since they had lived in the same building, they had become quite good friends. Willow had shared most of her life in Sunnydale and beyond, even including that one of her best friends was into the witch-y stuff, too. She watched as Willow disappeared. She returned a few minutes frowning.
"Willow, what is it?" Tara asked, standing up.
"I told you about Angel, right?" she asked lightly. Tara nodded. "Oh. He's here."
"Here as in England here?"
"Here as in Oxford here," Willow sighed, sitting in her armchair and reaching for her book.
"What's wrong with that?" Tara asked, puzzled as to why Willow looked so concerned. "I thought you liked visits from old friends."
"Angel seems to bring the bad with the good," Willow replied, staring at her book for a few seconds before glancing up at Tara. "He… he said it had to do with Harry. After… after what happened to Buffy, I don't know if I can…"
"Oh," Tara said, glancing down. "I… I see what you mean. But he's your friend too, right?"
"He tried to kill me once," Willow replied.
"With the whole not-having-a-soul thing?" Tara asked, recalling what Willow had told her of Angelus.
"Yeah," Willow murmured. "I'm just worried that he'll lose it again when he hears about what happened to Buffy. And it's like we haven't gotten any news since."
"No, it isn't," Tara replied, shuffling through a stack of papers in a small basket next to the rocker. "We kept getting updates too from Harry's friend, right?"
"Actually, I think they're from Faith," Willow replied, taking one of the letters Tara had found and scanning it. "From what I was told, he and Faith aren't exactly on speaking terms. There's been… complications is the best word I can come up with."
"Because of the tattoo?"
"That's part of it," Willow surmised, leaning closer to Tara as heavy footfalls sounded down the corridors. "I think it has something to do with forbidden love."
Tara smirked as a knock sounded on the heavy door. "I think I know something about that." Her eyes flickered to the door. "Is that him?"
"Yes," Willow replied, getting to her feet with a nervous chuckle. "I really don't want to tell him about Buffy."
"Then don't," Tara said, reaching over and taking Willow's arm. "Find out what he has for Harry and we'll take it from there."
Willow gave Tara a tentative smile, strode across the room and pulled open the door.
x-o-x
Emma Vance wrapped a thick blanket around herself as she stared at the tiny snowflakes swirling outside the door to her parents' summer home. As far as the eye could see was painted a picturesque white, the conifers decorated like a postcard. She breathed in deeply, as though to inhale the scent of winter from behind the heavy pane of glass. Hearing a small hiss in the fireplace behind her, she let the curtains swish shut behind her and turned to face the fireplace. A single envelope had fluttered through it, landing on a small, decorative end table. Collecting the letter, Emma moved around the large staircase to her father's study. A small fireplace was blazing, mostly to provide warmth to the small house which had not seen electrical power since before Emma's father died. A single figure sat at a long wooden table surrounded by heaps of parchment.
"I got another one," Emma said, setting the letter inside his overflowing in-basket.
Percy glanced up at her, blinking in the sudden chill that she had brought in with her. Biting his lip, he glanced at the basket before returning to the letter he was crafting. "I'll get to it when I can," he muttered, though his movements were frenzied. Emma sat on the chair across from him and shifted a pile of parchment onto the chair next to hers. Percy looked as though he hadn't been sleeping again. Dark rings circled under his eyes. His skin was so pale the freckles popped out comically. His red hair was on end from being run through so many times by frustrated fingers. What had once turned into a rescue mission had turned into a daily chore for Percy, who spent growing hours outside the Ministry of Magic answering letters, sending reassuring posts for the British press and basically handling damage control.
"Percy," Emma said, reaching across the table to place her hand over his. Percy's eyes, which were rereading his letter so fast his eyes were bouncing back and forth, glanced up at her.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice tense. "Did you hear anything upstairs?"
"No, I haven't heard anything," Emma replied, shaking her head. "All Mr. Giles does is read up there. He has barely said three words to either of us since we found them in Bulgaria. He hasn't said how the mansion burned down yet or how all of the members of Buffy's team managed to die."
Percy shrugged, returning his attention to the letter.
"Percy, stop, please," Emma said, causing Percy to set down the letter, aggravated. "You're going to work yourself to death. Buffy wouldn't want that, would she?"
"How should I know?"
"Because you're her best friend," Emma replied evenly. "And I know you're going through a tough time right now."
"A tough time?" he asked faintly. "Emma, my entire office was killed. We still are trying to scrounge up enough names for an interim Minister for Magic. This is a letter to the Prime Minister of England attempting to convince him not to worry about the public riots in London last week because they were most likely caused by disgruntled Ministry survivors out of a job. Blimey!"
"I don't care if they start blowing up Muggle buildings," Emma snapped. "You still need rest, Perce. They can't expect you to handle everything here in Germany. If you asked for help, maybe they wouldn't be so disgruntled."
"Honestly," Percy snorted, folding up the letter and shoving it in an envelope, "I wouldn't ask them for help if they were last people in the Ministry government. It's not my fault the Death Eaters and Inferi managed to kill all the morons in the office."
Emma fell quiet, knowing in her heart that Percy hadn't meant his harsh words. But she still felt hurt by them. Percy seemed to realize what he said because he bowed his head and ran his hands over the tired lines in his face. "I'm sorry."
"I know you are," Emma said, unable to keep the pain from her voice. She felt her stomach clench and the tears start and lifted her hand to shield her eyes from him. A moment later, she heard the sounds of the chair legs scrape against the bottom of the floor as he came around the table and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Bending down, he took her hand in his and turned her face gently towards his. Concerned eyes stared softly into hers.
"Emma, please. I really didn't mean anything against your mother."
"I know you didn't," she said quietly. "I'm just… it still hurts."
"We both lost people we loved," Percy admitted. "I guess the way we keep living is we have to keep holding on. There is this great future out there but I feel like we have to survive some huge battle to get there."
"You want a battle?" Emma asked humorlessly. "The next time one of us gets to contact Oliver Wood to tell him about Buffy, you do it. I spent over an hour in that fireplace trying to convince him she wasn't dead. Blimey. He's training in Malta now that the first half of the season is over. It's a pity, too… Puddlemere is doing quite well this year. He played the last match of the year. But he lost it when I told him what happened to Buffy."
"When is he coming back?"
"He'll be back right after Christmas," Emma replied. "I think he thought he was safe as his parents were found after all, safe and sound in Rome."
"I'll bet," Percy said wryly.
"The point is… he'll be here in maybe three weeks. We need to get Mr. Giles to tell us what happened."
"I could ask him," Percy offered, knowing that Emma had already done quite a few contacts already.
"You can," Emma said, eyeing him up and down. "But first, you need sleep. You should go."
"Em, it's in the middle of the afternoon."
"I know, but I also know you didn't sleep at all last night. You're going to fall asleep on your piles soon."
"But the piles aren't going anywhere," Percy mumbled, staring at the stacks and feeling his eyes glaze over.
"Leave that to me. I'll open the letters and separate them into piles. I mean, all I've been doing is trying to make this house livable again. The least I could do is share some of your burden."
"Bless you," Percy said, rising to his feet and hugging Emma from behind. She gasped as he held her, awkwardly patting the top of his head a few times before he disappeared.
"Sleep now."
"Yeah, I think I'll get some rest," Percy said, giving her a wan smile. "I am waiting to hear from the Headmaster at Durmstrang. If he should happen to call…"
"I'll tell him to call back later," Emma said firmly. "You are getting ten hours or I will knock you out with one of my mother's pricey – yet stylish – candlesticks."
Percy rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room. By the time he reached the top of the steps, he could feel the fatigue wearing on him. This rescue mission was turning into a lot more than he had in mind.
Rupert Giles felt his head snap up and looked warily around the room as he heard the floorboards creak outside the room he was in. He frowned as his eyes stared at the door, but the footfalls creaked past it and he exhaled, shifting his weight uneasily in the chair. Buffy was still lying in the middle of a wide, comfortable bed. The flannel sheets were pulled to her chin, her arms limply lying at her side. She merely looked at first glance as though she were only sleeping, but Giles knew better. He had heard her thrashing about only a week ago, but had found her in the same condition only moments later. It was the first hint of hope he had for her… everything else seemed lost.
He rose and moved to the single window, opening the shade and glancing at the world outside. The small, wooden house was cozy and comfortable, providing everything he and Buffy needed during this ordeal. His lips curved as he saw the blankets of snow redefining the landscape.
"It's almost Christmas, too," he said to nobody in particular. As he let the curtain fall back, he returned to his armchair and glanced at the book on the small table next to the glass of water. Every few hours, a hot meal on a tray would appear outside his door. But other than that he had no contact with the other two occupants of the house.
It wasn't that he wasn't grateful, because he really was. They had appeared suddenly in Bulgaria the same night he had torched the mansion. They were camped out in a gardener's shed when Percy had suddenly kicked down the door with an exhausted brunette he knew as Emma at his side. Emma had said they had a safe house for them in Germany. Worried about his Slayer's safety, he had taken her up on her offer with just one condition – to ask no questions as to the circumstances leading up to their rescue.
But he knew his desire to hold the truth to himself was waning. Who was he kidding? They had saved his life. He didn't know what he could have done other than barter and trade his way back to England.
Perhaps that night, once he rested… he could tell them everything that had happened.
After everything that they had risked for them… they deserved to know.
x-o-x
"Blimey," Ron said as he tucked his latest Potions test results into his bag, "that was a hard test. I can't believe I managed an 'Acceptable'."
"Better that than anything," Harry agreed, sighing at his own 'Acceptable' mark.
"But we really need to do better," Ron admitted, "if we want to make the cut. Don't Aurors need perfect N.E.W.T. Potion scores?"
"Probably," Harry replied as they rounded the corner towards the Great Hall for dinner. A group of excited fourth year Hufflepuffs hurried past them, whispering excitedly. "Did you hear we're doing Hogsmeade tomorrow? Last one of the year, too."
"Oh, yeah," Ron said, brightening. "The last one of the year, too, no? Half of the Aurors were posted there, so it's got to be safer than anywhere else. We're probably the most protected place in the world now."
"I guess," Harry blinked, never really looking at it that way. "I mean, I've seen a few Aurors in the halls. They're probably bored out of their minds hanging out in the lounge above the Hogs Head or something."
"I've seen Tonks, too."
"So have I," Harry realized. "Wasn't she at dinner last week?"
"Oh, yeah," Ron repeated. "Look, there's Hermione!"
As Ron ran to catch up with the third member of their infamous trio, Harry couldn't resist sneaking a look over at the Slytherin table. Faith was sitting with a group of sixth and seventh years. The person sitting at her right side was none other than Malfoy. Pushing his growing anxiety out of his mind, he forced himself to sit across from both Hermione and Ron and reach for a large bowl of lamb stew. Ron and Hermione were discussing the security precautions being taken for the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas break. The only had another week of lessons to go before they were released until January. Harry could hardly wait. Mrs. Weasley had invited him to what would likely be a subdued week at the Burrow. But Sirius had extended the Weasley family a Christmas Eve dinner invitation which they had accepted. Harry had been counting the days until he and Faith could finally be face-to-face once more – without interference from his classmates, his teachers or the Slytherins. Glancing across the Great Hall at them, they all appeared to be stone-faced and quiet.
"There's been another arrest," Ginny announced as she took the vacant chair next to Harry. This seemed to be a good explanation as to why they all looked so somber. "One of the officers in the Magical Law Enforcement department was arrested last night and thrown into some unknown prison. They say she was feeding Death Eaters information on the inner workings of the Ministry of Magic. The warrant was apparently signed by Percy."
To Harry's surprise, Ginny suddenly looked proud at saying her brother's name. "Who was it?"
"Millicent Bulstrode's mother," Hermione spoke up from across the table. "I heard them talking about it in Potions."
Ron stared at Hermione incredulously over his goblet. "You mean you weren't hanging onto every single word Professor Snape said?"
"Of course not," Hermione snapped. "Today was a review lesson."
"True," Harry admitted. Though it was a review lesson, Hermione raised her hand only twice, which was completely un-Hermione-like behavior. "How did you do on the test?"
"'Outstanding' of course," Ron smirked.
"Well, yes," Hermione replied, a proud little smile playing around her mouth as she ate another bite of her shepherd's pie. "I did rather well."
As Ron's and Hermione's voices faded out, his eyes scanned the Head Table. To his surprise, Wesley Windham-Pryce had joined the staff table on the very end near Hagrid. His eyes casually glanced over the students in the Great Hall, but his eyes lingered on the Slytherin table. Malfoy was now talking in a low, serious voice. Several of the Slytherins were nodding while others looked sickened.
"Just how bad was this arrest?" Harry asked Ginny. Swallowing a bit of potatoes, she leaned closer to him.
"It wasn't. She went quietly. Her husband had a few issues about it, though. Apparently half their living room was blasted apart when he heard about her arrest. I don't think he knows where she was taken."
"I know it couldn't be Azkaban. The Ministry had no way to protect it."
"And if they were in Ministry control, don't you think they'd want some payback after what happened at the Ministry?"
Harry nodded, realizing how dangerous the situation was and how quickly it could spiral out of control. "I wonder where they went."
"I'd ask Percy, but he's in Germany."
Harry nodded, knowing all about it. A few days after he had complained of little news, a single piece of parchment had appeared one morning, explaining that both Giles and Buffy were safe in Germany at Emma Vance's parents' home there. Buffy had not awakened though and Giles had yet to explain how the rest of their vampire hunting party had died as well as how the mansion that had been their headquarters had burnt to the ground.
Ginny was looking at him in that appraising sort of way again. "Have you had a chance to think about what we talked about last time?" she asked him lightly.
"I have."
"You have?" she asked in surprise.
"A little," Harry admitted. The truth was, the fact that Ginny held such high belief in him was heartwarming. He needed to feel the confidence of others. "I'm thinking of restarting the D.A."
"Really?" Ginny asked him, reaching for her goblet. "Why only thinking?"
"Because in all honesty asking Hogwarts to fight my war is a little disconcerting," Harry replied.
"It's not just your war," Ginny reminded him. "We've all lost a little."
"Some of you have lost a lot," Harry replied. He was suddenly aware that many Gryffindors were staring hard at him. "The problem is, I think you all have what you need to know. I taught you how to protect yourselves with Shield Charms, how to defend yourselves with hexes—"
"It isn't going to be enough, mate," Ron said, glancing at the other interested Gryffindors before leaning across the table to Harry. "After everything that's happened, we need the best. We need—"
"A watcher," Harry realized, his eyes turning to the staff table. Wesley was staring in the direction of the Ravenclaw table and didn't see Harry's appraising look. "I can teach you how to fight with the best of them. But that isn't what we need. What we need is—"
"Fred and George," Hermione said simply.
Harry blinked at her. "I beg your pardon?"
"Haven't you heard of their latest line of work?" Hermione asked. "I heard a few of the Aurors talking about it yesterday. Apparently they have a new section at their shop now, just developed: shield charms."
"Shield charms?" Ginny asked.
"They've been developing them for a while now, apparently," Hermione replied, leaning in. "The Aurors first thought they were a bit of a joke, but Fred and George have sold massive orders. Shield vests, shield hats, shield cloaks… you get hexed and the shield apparently protects its bearer."
"It won't protect you against Avada Kadavra," Harry replied.
"No, but it would help against some minor jinxes," Hermione said patiently. "There have been thousands of new vendors last month trying to sell everything from amulets acting as invisibility cloaks to lucky toadstools that swear to ward off Voldemort himself."
"It's all rubbish," Harry said, waving his hand.
"Perhaps, but not all of them are," Hermione said, glancing at the head table before frowning at Harry. "The shield line might help us if you decide to start up the D.A. again. Wesley is a Watcher and does have experience that may help us when it comes down to hand-to-hand combat. A vendor is selling spell-proof vests to half of the Magical Law Enforcement staff policing London. And then there's this book—"
"I knew it would come down to a book," Ron said sarcastically as Ginny whispered "Shh!" across the table at her brother.
"There's this book," Hermione said, throwing a wounded look at Ron, "full of homemade enchantments, jinxes, spells… real stuff that isn't included in anything the Dark Arts professors have taught us."
"I don't know, Hermione," Ron murmured. "I think this year has been pretty decent."
"We don't need decent, Ronald," Hermione snapped impatiently. "Decent isn't going to save our lives when Harry comes face-to-face with Voldemort. Decent isn't going to cover your hide when you—"
"No," Harry said loudly, drawing the attention of his fellow students again, "decent isn't going to work. We have to be perfect." He turned to Hermione. "Do you have this book?"
"I can't order it," Hermione admitted. "But a teacher can."
Harry almost laughed at the thought of asking Snape to order the book for them. He would probably think they were playing around with toys under his nose. But his gaze lingered at Professor McGonagall. Perhaps she would be fairer…
"It might be useful," Harry said, cutting Ron off, who snapped his mouth shut, looking mulish. "I will ask Professor McGonagall. If she doesn't go for it, I'll go all the way to Dumbledore. He can't refuse me, knowing that we're in this together now. And I'll check into your theory about Fred and George's new products, Hermione, thank you." She gave him a small smile and he felt something deep inside of him unclench and relax. Things had been so strained between them all year; it was nice to finally talk to her without all of the guilt. He took her valuable information as a sign of loyalty, which he felt incredibly grateful for. "As for getting the spell-proof vests, I'll check with McGonagall too."
"Does this mean you're starting the D.A. again?" Ginny asked hopefully.
"I certainly believe I am," Harry said proudly. A few of the Gryffindors sitting near him breathed sighs of relief; a few broke into spontaneous applause. Dozens of solemn Slytherins glared in his direction before turning back to their brooding. "It's time."
"It's about bloody time," Seamus Finnegan said a few seats down from Ron. "Brilliant choice, Harry!"
"Yes, Harry," Parvati Patil said, beaming over at him.
A loud murmur spread through the whole of the Great Hall until at last the news reached Faith Landing's ears. She was just getting ready to head back down to the dungeons and a later Potions tutorial when Juliet Rosier pulled her aside. "Did you hear?" she asked in a low, excited voice. "It sounds like Potter is starting Dumbledore's Army again."
"Literally?" Faith asked, too used to living on a Hellmouth to really decipher fact from fiction.
"Yes, literally," Juliet replied in a soft voice, rolling her eyes. "This is good news."
"Why is this good news?" Faith asked moodily.
Juliet cast a quick glance to make certain she wouldn't be overheard before leaning closer to Faith. "Because I know this way you can help him out, you know?"
"You know what?" Faith asked sharply, glaring at the taller woman. "Why would I want to help him out?"
"Because you look so tortured every time you look at him," Juliet replied as she watched Faith shove her books into her bag before hurling the strap over her shoulder. "And I know there's something there because I've seen him look at you."
"There can't be anything between us, ever," Faith replied icily. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bad guy sent out to kill him. It wouldn't look too well on my character if I just ignored that, would it?"
"Why worry about tomorrow when you have tonight?" Juliet asked lightly. Faith's eyes narrowed sharply and she looked down, grinding the toe of her boot into the marble. "I'm just saying."
"Sometimes you say too much," Faith murmured. When she looked up, she looked far from angry. She looked worried and a bit apprehensive. "Do you really think it's proper to join Dumbledore's Army?"
"Let's wait until the announcement is public before we make up our minds," Juliet assured her. "I've been waiting three years to prove my father's name. Do you really think I'd miss an opportunity to fight for the right side?"
"I've been waiting three months to ditch my father's name," Faith said sourly. "They sold me out to Voldemort before I could even learn my own name."
Juliet had winced when Faith had said Voldemort's name and sighed as Faith's words impacted her. "Well… I admit my father was a poor choice as a messenger as my mother didn't care enough to really put forth the effort in finding and preparing you, whatever that means."
"I've had it with people trying to dictate my life for me," Faith said, shrugging. "I mean, the good fight is what matters, yo. To hell with this Death Eater nonsense. If I didn't have to worry about that, then I wouldn't care which side of the hall I'm on as long as I was by Harry's side."
"I think you care about him a lot more than you're willing to admit," Juliet said. "And someday, those barriers are going to break down."
Faith was hoping so; Sirius had invited Harry and the Weasleys over to their house on Christmas Eve, just a week from Sunday, for dinner. She hoped that without the interference of her housemates or Wesley that she could finally have a conversation with Harry without hating herself for it. But she would rot in hell before she admitted that to Juliet, blossoming friend or not.
She was halfway out the Great Hall when Wesley suddenly appeared, calling her name. She said a hasty goodbye to Juliet before turning back to her Watcher. She could hardly believe that Wesley had offered to train her considering how horribly she had treated him a few months ago. But he had added in his dark, brooding tone that he believed she was stronger than the Dark Side took credit for, so he was willing to do what it took to prove it. She was grateful for the training; it meant one less tutorial with her irritating cousin a week. Lately he had taken this aggravating turn in bashing the Weasley family. Faith smirked as she remembered the look on his face when she told him about her tryst with Ron. He looked like she had just slaughtered his puppy.
"You have a guest in my fireplace," Wesley said in a low voice as they hastened up the stairs and down a corridor Faith had never been down. Wesley's room was little more than a closet with a bed and a chest of drawers thrown in for good measure. A small table with a pitcher and a goblet decorated one end while a small fireplace stood on the opposite end. A head was bobbing up at down, flames licking at his sunken cheeks. Faith's eyebrows lifted in surprise as she recognized her brother's once-handsome face grinning at her from the fireplace.
"Hi, Faith," he said cheerfully.
"Sirius," she said, getting down onto the floor and crossing her legs neatly. "What brings this visit about?"
"Your letter," Sirius said darkly. "You said a friend gave it to you?"
"Yes," Faith replied. "Her name is Juliet Rosier. Her father was—"
"Evan," Sirius replied softly. "I see. Faith… the details in this letter are vivid and they—"
"—are all coming true, right?" she asked.
"Well, for the most part." His eyes switched to look at Wesley, who was crouched down a few feet behind his Slayer. "Do you know about this letter?"
"I do not."
"Allow me to read the beginning," Sirius said, closing his eyes. "I've read it so many times this past week it's memorized completely. Dearest Girl, you have been summoned—"
As Sirius continued to read the letter, Wesley watched the look on Faith's face. It was darkening to the point of being completely lost in shadows. He felt his own anger simmering beneath the surface. Apparently, Faith's future included a dark destiny as a daughter of supporters to those of the Death Eaters. She was being sacrificed to Voldemort's cause to lead the next generation of Death Eaters whose collective power would surpass that of Dumbledore's. With that power, the second generation would wipe out any chance Dumbledore had to protect the 'Chosen One'. As Sirius stopped reciting the letter, Wesley turned to Faith, who was staring at the floor, apparently near tears.
"I don't believe a word of it," Sirius suddenly said.
Faith looked up, tears shining in her enraged eyes. "What?"
"You honestly believe that you have the ability to become a new chosen one, the one that the world will see as an all-powerful vessel as a conductor for pure evil?" Sirius chided, his eyes sparkling despite the flames surrounding them. "You may be marked, Delita, but you are no vessel. And you're certainly not evil."
"I'm part demon," Faith snapped. "What do you call that?"
"A mere coincidence," Sirius replied. "I didn't know you existed until you got here. It was through your powers that I was able to return at all."
"He's right, Faith," Wesley said softly behind her.
"If you were truly evil, would you be able feel like you would? You hate yourself and what you can become for no reason whatsoever. Don't you have any faith in yourself?"
"I…" she started before shaking her head helplessly. "I don't know."
"Faith, listen to me. You are a good person. You wouldn't have gone back to California if you weren't. You would never have saved Buffy's life if you weren't. And you wouldn't be here now if you were evil. The reason you're good is as easy as this – you can love. Your heart is a burning ocean of desire and wants and need… and you love the one person you were created to destroy. I wouldn't call it fate or destiny or coincidence or chance… I would call it luck. You are here because you chose to be here. You're choosing now to resist what you were born for. Our brother chose a different life for you and he paid for it with his own. Will you let that sacrifice go to waste? Or is all the pain and suffering and agony leading you up to your moment to shine? I believe in you, Faith. I believe that this letter came to you now as a test to prove your loyalties. You're proving them quite well."
Faith was quite beside herself, unable to look at either her brother or her Watcher. "But, I—"
"No," Wesley said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I think you should listen to him. Because I think he's onto something."
"Harry is not your enemy. Why are you holding back? Why are you torturing yourself? Because you think you deserve it… you think you're dirty, tainted with the Dark Mark. Well, to hell with it." Sirius suddenly smiled at her, his eyes shining to her despite a tear slipping beyond her control. "Don't be afraid to let them see who you really are. You're not a monster. You're no demon or chosen one or hellion or whatever this letter makes you want to believe. You're my sister and I'm damned proud to call you my family."
Faith smirked through her tears as she shook her head. "I suppose I should tell you now I don't do well with mushy speeches."
"You better get used to them," Sirius warned, the corner of his mouth twisting. "You're probably going to be hearing a lot of them soon."
"Harry's starting Dumbledore's Army again." Faith blurted out, causing Sirius to blink in surprise. "I thought you'd want to know."
"Maybe there's hope for this world yet," Sirius marveled, glancing behind him. "I'd better go. I'll see you next weekend?"
"You bet your ass you will," Faith replied. Sirius disappeared a few moments later, leaving Faith staring at the floor. "I never knew my brother could be so cool."
"He is quite unlike your parents if that letter is anything to judge them by," Wesley said, offering his hand to Faith and helping her from the floor.
"They are as awful as that letter proclaims them to be," Faith scowled. "But… I guess Reggie didn't suck, being that he saved my life and all. And Sirius is a hell of a lot cooler than I thought he could be. When I found him a few months ago when I first got back, he was a pale, pathetic drunk. I guess war changes people."
"You have no idea," Wesley said darkly. "Didn't you have a tutorial tonight?"
"I do."
"And Dumbledore's Army?"
Faith paused, her hand on the edge of the portrait covering Wesley's doorway. "I'm going to wait until Harry makes the official announcement. Then I'll make my move."
"Good girl, Faith."
"Thanks, Wes," Faith said, offering him one last smirk. "You know… you'd be quite the asset to Harry's little army."
"I beg your pardon," he frowned, glancing up from the journal he'd picked up from his bedside table.
"I'm serious," Faith said as Wesley looked back down at his journal. "Think about it. But don't think too hard. We're running out of time."
x-o-x
Emma was carefully listing all of the essential letters Percy had to write when she heard someone enter the room. The door clicked quietly as it was pushed open and she glanced up, preparing to berate Percy for only being gone four hours when she saw the exhausted and rumpled form of Rupert Giles standing in the doorway.
"Mr. Giles," she said, setting down the quill and gesturing towards one of the chairs at the table. "Are you all right?"
"I think not," he replied. "What happened at the Ministry?"
Emma retold her account of events, speaking of her mother's last moments as well as Fleur Delacour's and Bill Weasley's. After she fell silent, Giles looked down and nodded. "I thought as much," he replied. "You and Percy both bear the weight of grief and it isn't light."
"It has been a difficult time for us both," Emma admitted. "But I think the strain is wearing on Percy more than I. He has all of this to deal with."
Giles glanced at the stacks of paper littering the entire office. He stared at the lists Emma had scattered on the table and frowned. "This is a list of speeches that he needs to make?"
"Yes," Emma said. "You see, Percy is the sole survivor of the high administrative body of the Minister of Magic's office. He has been taking on a lot of responsibility since the attack."
"You mean he has all of this responsibility as well as Buffy's care in mind?"
"She's his best friend," Emma grudgingly said. "He was the only one alive who knew what happened to her. He tried to get the word out, but he also wanted to go to Bulgaria and get you both out. He wanted to rescue his friend."
"A noble gesture," Giles sighed. "But perhaps your rescue was in vain. Buffy is no more awake now than she was two months ago."
"What happened to her?" Emma asked softly.
"She was poisoned by a dart from one of her teammate's arrows," Giles explained. "The best I can figure is that there was a hex attached to the dart or else a potion, one that would cause the wound to heal but would occupy her mind or perhaps drop her into a sleep close to death."
"The Draught of Living Death would essentially accomplish that," Emma surmised. "It could however be something that would cause the dreamer to dream a dream that wouldn't allow them to awaken until the dream was over."
"It could very well be either of those," Giles replied. "I just hope she wakes up soon. Her body cannot handle the malnourishment or dehydration she has suffered. Being in this house has helped some as we were able to get much needed resources to assist in her recovery, but I'm afraid that if she doesn't wake soon, she'll die."
"After all this, after everything they wanted her for, it all comes down to this? It doesn't seem possible."
"Kristofer is the one who betrayed her," Giles said suddenly, causing Emma's attention to shift back to him again. "He bore no Dark Mark nor did he speak of the Dark Lord as anything more than something to fear. It is possible that he was working under orders from the Ministry of Magic."
"No!" Emma gasped, shaking her head. "No, it couldn't be! If they were, Percy would have known! He had enough power… he would not have let that happen to her! He had to have been a Death Eater."
"I don't think he was," Giles said. "If he wasn't from the government or a Death Eater, perhaps he is someone that supports your Dark Lord. Or else he is working to undermine the power that her brother now possesses, according to your Daily Prophet."
"You read that?" Emma asked in surprise; that morning's headline had boasted that Harry Potter was stepping up his role at Hogwarts and was restarting Dumbledore's Army again.
"I have. But it doesn't matter. Kristofer killed both the leader of the vampire hunting team, Irene Ironton, and his other teammate, a man named Tomas. I was forced to take action when he came after me. I had to… terminate him."
"You did what you had to do to protect her," Emma whispered. "Had you died, he would have been able to do whatever he wanted with her. Isn't that the most disgusting thought?"
"I burned the mansion so that I could protect her in case others would come to find her… or find him, more specifically," Giles replied. "I hope this answers some of your questions."
"That and it makes me want to ask more," Emma said. "You must've been so brave."
"I did what I had to do," Giles replied. "Just as you and young Mr. Weasley have done what you had to do."
Percy hovered at the top of the stairs. He could barely hear the conversation below as Emma and Mr. Giles spoke. He heard Emma asking questions and heard Mr. Giles answering them in his quiet voice. He continued down the hall, grinding all sleep from his eyes. He felt guilty for closing his eyes for a moment; his best friend was hovering between life and death. What sort of person was he for not doing everything in his power to save her?
He pushed open the door to Buffy's room. An armchair rested next to the bed, a table cluttered with books and newspapers stood next to it. His eyes searched the pale face of his dearest friend and he found himself swallowing a painful lump in his throat. As the voices dwindled downstairs, he sat on the bed and took one of her tiny, cold hands into his.
"Buffy," he murmured, watching the way she slept. Her face looked so peaceful, though he felt something was terribly wrong inside. He wondered why anyone would want to hurt her until he realized the hand he held was opposite the one marked with the Dark Mark. "I know you can't hear me, but I'm hoping somehow you can understand what I need to say. Things are happening out here in the real world. People are dying. People suffer. People are starting to lose faith in the government's ability to fight this war. So they're turning to the one person they have left – Harry Potter. It's strange, you lying here while our world falls apart. But even I forget that you're not invulnerable. You have weaknesses, too. They apparently found yours.
"When you wake up, things are going to be different. People are harder now. They've been through a lot. I lost my brother. I lost my friend. My bosses are gone after being tortured. I'm finally getting the attention I've wanted only to realize how big of a burden it is. I miss the way things used to be. If I could take back some of the things I did or said or how I treated my family… well, I probably wouldn't take them all back, but it'd be close. The one thing I have now that I didn't have then is knowledge. I know who my friends are now. I know that when everything was falling apart I knew I could still do one thing… rescue my best friend. Some hero I turned out to be. You're no more cured now than you were when we found you both. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"The thing is, Harry needs you. He needs to know his family is behind him. Your friends need you. They miss you. They even kind of love you. And I… I need you. I even love you. Isn't it strange? Two years ago, you didn't exist and now I can't imagine my life a day without you in it. If you're ever alone in there, you're not out here. Someone's watching over you. Someone's got your back. Don't be afraid to lose if you have to wake up again."
Percy bent down, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. It was almost chilled, her skin like porcelain. Swallowing his tears, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before clutching her hand to his heart. "Whatever happens will happen. But if you die on me, I will make you sorry you ever decided to waltz into your world. I'll make you so sorry that—" Words failed him utterly and he shook his head sadly. "Don't give up. Don't give in. You're a fighter, so do what you do best and fight this."
He heard the floor creak behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he saw both Emma and Mr. Giles standing there. Mr. Giles had a funny look on his face while Emma was staring hard at the floor. "I'm sorry," Percy said, dropping her hand and rising quickly. "I'm… I just had to say my thing."
"And I think you said exactly what you needed to say," Mr. Giles said not unkindly. "Now, if you would please…"
Percy slouched out of the room. He heard the door close behind them. Emma was now standing near the stairs, her arms crossed. Her head was shaking and she was looking at him as though seeing him in a new light. "I never thought I'd see the day when the great Percy Weasley would be reduced to a sap."
"I did not," Percy argued as Emma took him by the arm, dragging him past the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. "And I'm not going to sleep. You can't make me."
Seizing one of the heavy candlesticks on the desk, she held it out for him to see, twirling it for good measure. "If you knew me at all, you'd know I hold my promises. You promised me ten hours."
"I gave you four," Percy argued.
"No excuses," she snapped as Percy sat back down on the bed, sighing. "I don't care how guilty you feel. You're either going to sleep or I will knock you out. The choice is yours. It's your head."
Remembering what he said about knowing who his friends were, he cast an irritated look at the woman he considered his friend. "You're annoying, you know that?"
"And you're bloody stubborn," she reminded him, giving the candlestick another twirl. Scowling, Percy pulled the covers over his head. "Happy?" he asked, his voice muffled.
"Outstandingly," Emma replied in a teasing voice. A moment later, he heard the soft click of his door as she left him, finally, in peace.
x-o-x
"Brr," Hermione murmured as she climbed out of one of the carriages. The air was thick with fog so that the only thing they could see was the hand in front of their faces. Snow crunched beneath their feet as the trio hurried away from the column of carriages. Harry felt fortunate that the school had provided the carriages as it was both cold and windy outside. Once again, the Dementors seemed to dictate the weather. A narrow line of Hogwarts students were rushing up the Hogsmeade street, their heads bowed to the wind and their collars turned up against the chill.
But the village itself had changed in the past few weeks. The warm shops normally boasting Christmas lights and decorations were hidden behind large black posters showing images of wanted Death Eaters, images on how to detect Inferi, tips on what to do when coming face-to-face with a Dementor and holiday safety pointers to protect the family. Harry paused on the way up to stare at a poster with a picture of a mangled pile of bodies and two small models of an Inferi. Shuddering at their empty eye sockets and transparent skin, Harry hurried on, only to plough into Ron. "What is it?" he asked, rubbing his aching shoulder with numb fingers.
"Tonks," Ron murmured out of the corner of his mouth. Ron was facing the carriages as a woman stumbled through the snow. There were two figures lurking behind one of the carriages.
"Harry," Hermione breathed, her fingers reaching to clutch his arm. "Someone's out there."
Glancing around, Harry saw that they were the only ones aware of the danger. "Come on," he said, taking off down the hill. Hermione and Ron drew out their wands and followed. By the time they had reached the bottom of the hill, Tonks wasn't the only one with the strangers. Another figure in a dark cloak had joined them. Through wisps of fog, he recognized Wesley's tall form standing near Tonks. He appeared to be arguing with the strangers. Their voices were barely audible over the howling wind. Without a moment's thought, he pushed forward.
"Harry, not so fast!" Hermione gasped, stumbling and nearly keeling over into the snow. She managed to catch herself on the carriage. At hearing her gasp, Harry spun around and helped Hermione back to her feet. She clung to him, all the while eyeing the strangers over his shoulder. Her eyes suddenly widened as she breathed, "Willow."
Harry spun around so quickly Hermione lost her balance again. She managed to stay on her feet thanks to Ron, who had taken her by the shoulders and had maneuvered her out of the deeper snow. Now that they were within a few feet of the strangers, he recognized the one with short red hair and freckles immediately. Tonks was standing next to Wesley, her hand on his sleeve in what was likely meant to soothe him as the Watcher seemed to be telling off the women.
"Willow?" Harry asked, stepping behind the carriage into Willow's viewpoint.
The girl stopped talking and turned to look at him. A moment later, her hand lifted in a cheerful wave. Harry couldn't help but smile at her padded blue mittens that matched the brilliant blue of her winter coat. "Harry!"
"Come on," Harry muttered to the others as he moved forward. He was stopped a moment later by a snarling Tonks.
"You do not walk up to strangers like that," she hissed.
"But she's a friend."
"And I can assure you, she's quite safe," Wesley replied, gently pulling Tonks away from Harry. "I appreciate your concern, but—"
"His concern is none of your concern," Tonks said, rounding on Wesley and poking him in the chest with her index finger.
"It is certainly my concern," Wesley shouted back.
Leaving the Auror and Watcher alone, he gestured Willow and her guest to the side. Willow shivered as the wind whipped again, lifting her short curls and blowing them across her face. When they were out of sight from the Auror, she stopped and hugged him. Surprised, he hugged her back.
"How are you holding up?" she asked lightly, though he could clearly see the emotion in her eyes.
"I'm okay," he said, before spying the look in her eyes as she broke eye contact. "Are you okay?"
"I honestly don't know," Willow replied. Shivering, she glanced around the carriages. "Is there a better place to talk? It's a little cold out here."
"The weather has been quite unusual lately," Willow's friend spoke in a clear American accent.
"And I'll do introductions," Willow promised them.
"Let's try the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said through chattering teeth. "It's right up on top of the hill."
As they bustled up the hill, Harry was suddenly quite aware that one of the shops was boarded up as a group of disappointed students were turned away.
"Ronald!"
"Ginny?" Ron asked, turning to face his sister. She appeared, her cheeks bright pink from the cold, with two figures skulking behind her. "Look who I found checking out Zonko's."
"Zonko's?" Harry asked, rounding on the twin Weasleys, every freckle standing out from their pale faces. "Don't tell me it's closed!"
"It boarded up around Halloween," Fred said, tucking his hands inside his pockets and looking wistfully down the street. "We were thinking of opening a Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."
"We were just about to go inside," Hermione told them, leaning in to be heard over the whistling wind. "Care to join us?"
The four Weasleys with Harry, Hermione, Willow and her friend trooped inside Madam Rosmerta's. As usual, the Three Broomsticks was crowded. Spying a table in the back, Harry maneuvered through the hoards of students to the back table while Ron and Ginny stayed behind to order drinks.
"Are they actual drinks?" Willow's friend asked as she removed her coat. Once inside and out of the elements, Harry could see that Willow's friend was actually quite pretty. She had a mystical, earthy look to her that appealed to him for some reason. And when he thought about it, he could almost sense the power from her.
Ron and Ginny returned a few moments later with Madam Rosmerta. Ron handed both Harry and Hermione a mug of warm butterbeer while Willow and her friend accepted the same from Ginny. Madam Rosmerta handed the Weasley children their beverages before she disappeared with a flash of sequins.
"I think I'll do the introductions now," Willow said over the excited holiday chatter all around them. "This is Tara Maclay. She's at Oxford with me."
"Hi," Tara said, waving shyly and glancing around at all of the curious faces at the table.
Hermione suddenly took over, pushing her mug aside. "I'm Hermione Granger. This is Harry Potter," she said, indicating Harry on her left. "That's Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Fred Weasley and… oh, sorry George. Well, George Weasley and Fred Weasley."
"It is really good to see you guys again."
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked Willow curiously.
"I'm afraid that it's business," Willow replied, reaching into her coat and pulling out a long, narrow box. She set it on the table and paused before meeting Harry's gaze dead-on. "Angel's in England again."
"What is he doing here?" Harry asked, his senses automatically prickling at the thought of his sister's ex hovering around so close. "Is he dangerous again?"
"He's concerned," Tara spoke up, reaching for the box and removing its top. "He… he's worried more about you than her, since I don't think he knows what happened to Buffy."
"Have you met Buffy?" Fred asked Tara, eyeing her with sudden interest.
Tara shook her head and glanced back down. "I don't know her."
"She's our friend," George said, shrugging as he eyed his half-empty mug. "We protect our friends."
"I don't know about protecting any friends," Willow said in a hushed voice, "but your welcoming committee was rude."
"They're concerned about Harry," Ginny said apologetically. "Please… we don't get many non-magic folk through Hogsmeade."
Tara had finally removed the top of the box and held it up, turning it to the others. Inside, a necklace glowed ominously.
"Who said anything about us being non-magical?"
x-o-x
Faith stared longingly at the fog outside as Wesley cleared his throat behind her. Brandishing a sword, he looked formidable by reflection. But this was a learning process for them both.
"I don't see why I couldn't go out," Faith said stubbornly as she collected her own sword from the table next to her. "You keep telling me how important it is to socialize with people my own age."
"But there is also importance in your training," Wesley said, giving the sword a fancy twirl. "You have said yourself that you aren't ready to throw off the dark influence that surrounds you like an aura. I have just three words for you, Faith: preparation, preparation, preparation."
"That's still one word repeated three times," Faith replied, giving her own sword a twist.
"You are going home next weekend?" Wesley asked, circling around her while holding his sword out to her, as though expecting her to strike.
"Intend to," Faith murmured, rounding around the back, her eyes narrowing to the blinding fog glistening from the snow outside. "What are your holiday plans?"
"I intend to stay at the castle and prepare you for your second term," Wesley said as the tips of their swords scraped, creating an ungodly sound.
"I think you should come to my house and spend the holidays with Sirius and me," Faith offered as she drew her sword arm back. Again, they kept moving. "Buffy and I put up a training room. You can train me there. There's no reason to lose any time because we have no place to train," she added.
Wesley suddenly lowered his sword. "I'm touched."
"You shouldn't be," Faith replied, lunging forward suddenly and catching her Watcher off-guard. Spinning to the side, he blocked her thrust and sent her back to her starting position. "Up until last year, I didn't have a family. You did."
"How quickly things change," Wesley said ironically as they continued circling. "I think perhaps I may take you up on your offer."
"It'll be fun," she said as their swords scraped again. "Besides, I think you need to meet my brother."
"Well, thank you. I'm still touched."
Faith suddenly lowered her sword to block his thrust and pushed him away, kicking at his sword and sending Wesley spiraling into a wall. "Don't mention it."
x-o-x
Elise carefully threaded her belt through the loops on her slacks, enjoying the feel of her uniform on her body. It just felt right, sitting just below her hips. Though the color left something to be desired, it made her feel as though she belonged to something. Smoothing her top, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. A short woman with a tight blonde bun stared back at her. The gaze was solemn despite her attempt to smile at her reflection.
"All right," came a masculine voice behind her as Cedric entered his bedroom, tying a necktie around his neck and attempting to recite his daily calendar at the same time. "I've got a meeting with one of my mother's clients this morning. I have lunch with a client at noon. I should be in the office for most of the afternoon. I have to call the head of some committee by five, so I should get that done earlier. We have dinner reserved tonight at seven with the caterer. Does that cover about everything?"
"It sounds far better than my day," Elise said, turning and helping him with his tie. He repaid her kindness by kissing her. A moment later, he pulled back, a smirk filling his handsome face.
"You smell incredible," he said, leaning in to hold her again. She laughed as she pushed him away. "You're not cheating on me with someone who gives you expensive perfume, are you?"
"Depends on if his name is Cedric Diggory," she replied, showing him a bottle on top of his dresser. He sighed as he glanced at her toiletries mixed among his. The so-called mess had been getting worse for the past few months. "Your office assistant is very kind. Thank her for me, will you?"
"Okay, so I couldn't remember what I got you," he scowled, watching as she started to put her shoes on. "We're still on for dinner tonight, though, right?"
"If you send your assistant, I'll hurt you," she replied, smiling at the near-panicky look on his face.
"I think we've both been busy these past few weeks. I've got all of this to deal with. You have your job to deal with. On top of everything else, we're planning a wedding."
Elise smiled softly, recalling the feeling just the week before that she had finally found her perfect wedding dress. She had been in a specialty store in London, searching amongst the many racks before she found the perfect dress. She heard Cedric's mother telling her it was uncustomary for a woman to select her wedding dress off-the-rack, but she didn't care. She was a Potter, after all.
"Right," she said quietly, getting to her feet as his arms wrapped around her. "We've got the caterer tonight. And remember… no fish. Dawn's allergic to all things fish and as she's one of my bridesmaids, I am actually going to succumb to her wishes."
"All right," he replied, resting his head on top of hers for one peaceful moment. "Tomorrow we're selecting music, right?"
"Yes," she breathed. "But no more now, okay? I'm just basking in this moment."
He closed his eyes for one blissful moment. The entire world seemed safe and they were in their bubble. In less than four months, they would be joined together… forever.
"I love you," he said, rubbing her back with slow, practiced motions.
"I love you,' she replied, glancing up at him. Her body arched into his as his lips touched hers before he broke away.
"I should probably go. So should you… don't you have to be in the office by seven?"
Elise laughed as she grabbed her shoulder pack and pulled it on. "I do."
"I will see you tonight then," he said, pulling her back towards him despite her weak protests. "My mother wanted to come, but I think I turned her off of it."
"I hope so," she scowled, slapping his arm playfully. "That's not very funny. If you do that, you may just have to save me tonight."
Cedric laughed as she strode out of the room, feeling happy and light. Each day with her was an adventure, he thought, staring at his once-quiet atmosphere. He wouldn't give any of this up for the world.
Ever.
x-o-o-x
In the next chapter… Elise faces her choices in a situation which may destroy her "perfect" life.
Final Note: I kept the reviewer's responses in the profile, but it also includes something else. The next chapter may be a few weeks away. I leave tomorrow for a week and my beta is gone for the next two after I return. It is also the chapter I am most anxious to get to, so hopefully I can dedicate plenty of time for it. It is entirely a Buffy-centric chapter, so be forewarned.