Disclaimer: Oh, bother. Nope, I still don't own Angel the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Harry Potter.

A/N: I hope I'm not messing anyone up with all the scene changes. Anyhow, enjoy. Tell me if there's anything you guys want to happen later in this fic. Oh, and for recap, Remus and Dumbledore are traveling separately. Buffy, Giles, Harry, Hermione, and Draco are flooing together.

The Necromancer

Chapter 8: Hello, Lover

Flooing and Buffy did not mix.

This she realized as she pulled herself off the floor, covered in more ash and filth than she usually was after a long night of slaying. She was intent on telling Giles how very much she didn't like being told what she would be doing with her evening when she noticed that she was being stared at like a gold fish in a plastic cup.

Harry and Hermione, both of whom seemed to have been speaking to a red-headed young man, were now staring at her and the fireplace, as if they hadn't quite expected her to make it to The Burrow after them. A girl with a bright mane just as pumpkin colored as the unnamed boys appeared, taking the attention of the other teens.

"Welcome, welcome, dear," greeted a plump, cheerful woman. "My name is Molly Weasley. I've been told all about you. Buffy? You should probably move out of the way, dear."

Buffy stepped out of the way just as Xander stumbled out of the fireplace, the constrained form of Draco Malfoy thrown over his shoulder. Buffy was happy that her friend had opted to go with her after leaving a very long message on Andrew's answering machine and a messy note on the frig for the girls staying with him in Cleveland. She felt out of place enough—Xander would be sure to lighten the mood.

"I'm gonna drop 'em," Xander huffed, just as quickly letting the unconscious wizard slip from his arms and onto the planked floor.

The young man's head hit the wood with a thud and a grimace crossed his face, his eyes fluttering open. "What. . . .The. . . .Hell . . . .?" he murmured, wincing at the pain the fall had dealt. Obviously, it had left him more than a bit confused.

"Boney, but heavy," Xander explained. "Where do you want him?" his eye circled the room as he asked, looking for someone who might have an answer.

"I vote for the broom closet," Harry said, a slight smirk on his face.

"Seconded," the red-headed boy at his side all but shouted. "What? He likes brooms," he told Hermione.

"Sadly," Molly Weasley answered, "that's probably the best place for him right now—don't give me that look, Mr. Malfoy. There's a light inside—you won't be in the dark." She turned, calling across the house, "Fred! George!"

"Yes, Mother," replied two, mischievously overenthusiastic voices from the back of the room.

Buffy cocked a brow, wondering how she had failed to notice two rather attractive twin brothers sneaking into the room. The Jr. Slayers would have a field day with those two, I'm sure, she thought, grinning slightly as they smiled in her direction, obviously appreciating the presence of a mysterious, older woman. Or perhaps they were just looking forward to tossing the Malfoy guy in the closet.

Buffy realized something wasn't quite right with the picture and turned around just in time to see what was missing—Giles.

The Watcher didn't land on his rear end, barely stumbling as he made it out of a gather cloud of dust and ash. He looked up, taking off his glasses to give them a good wipe. "Molly," he muttered, replacing them on this face.

The woman smiled slightly, as if she wasn't quite sure it was the proper thing to do. "Hello, Rupert. Why don't you and I fix a pot of tea—Arthur should be home shortly. Let the children get settled." To Buffy and Xander, she said, "Make yourselves at home, dears! I'm sure I'll get to know you once you've settled and cleaned."

Then she walked out, somewhat distracted with Giles at her heel.

Buffy was partaking in much mental speculation when Xander's voice broke her from her thoughts. He seemed to be addressing the two teens who hadn't yet been introduced.

"So, I'm Xander Harris. Carpenter, construction worker, does donut runs, has a thing for Alpha females."

888888888888

Hermione took a step back, letting Ginny and Ron introduce themselves to Buffy and Xander.

Her head felt as if it was about to explode. Everyone was talking, so loudly, so much. No one seemed to realize that she wanted to be anywhere but there. She loved the Weasley home, but, at the moment, it didn't seem much like a sanctuary—it was more a prison. She'd come out of the fireplace with only enough time to greet Ron and Ginny, unable to tell them what had happened to her. And neither of them had asked her about the book in her arms.

Or about her.

Or her aunt Mina.

It was all so surreal, like a dream. Could she even tell them when they asked? Could she truly explain to them what she had done, what she had awakened? Could she tell them how she had almost went over the edge, stealing Malfoy's strength? Not yet.

'Call upon my armies. . . .'

Hermione blocked the memory of the Lord of the Dead, blinking away all that was around her.

"Hermione?" Harry was beside her, slipping out of the group. "Are you alright? Do you need to lay down?"

The witch shook her head. "I'll be fine, Harry. I think I just need to freshen up a bit. Tell Ginny that I'll be in the upstairs restroom when she finishes talking to Xander and Buffy."

Harry nodded, worried eyes following her as she escaped the room, talking the steps two at a time. She reached the bathroom door, the slightest bit of dizziness shaking her as she opened it, stumbling in.

"Whoa, love!"

Arms wrapped around her catching her before she could collapse. She held still a moment, finally regaining her balance enough to look up. It was man cradling her, a man she had never seen before. He had platinum blond hair (obviously not his natural color by Hermione's judgment) and skin pale as moon light. His shirt was ragged, torn in spots, stained in others, but he had unbuttoned it, leaving his chest bare, fresh cuts and bruises shining proudly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, trying to take her footing.

The man lowered her down onto the covered toilet seat. "No bother to me. You don't look like you belong to that red-headed bunch I just met. Were you here earlier?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. I just arrived. I'm a friend of the family's, Hermione Granger."

She let a question hang in the air. The man answered it with a slight smirk.

"Beauty of a name, Hermione. I'm Spike. I'll be stayin' here overnight. I've got an old friend who is supposed to arrive. I was just getting a bit cleaned off first."

"I should have knocked," Hermione apologized. "I'll be going."

"No need. I'm heading back downstairs in a moment." Spike looked down, buttoning he shirt he was wearing. He gave Hermione a sideways glance. "You look like you've had as hell of a night as I did."

The witch nodded, looking away as the image of her aunt's hanging body took over her mind's eye. She felt her eyes burn at the memory, so recent, so fresh.

"You alright?" When she didn't answer, his eyes drifted down to the large text in her hands. "Plan on spending a lot of time on the throne?"

Hermione smiled softly at his comment.

"Were there any others who arrived with you, by any chance?" Spike asked. "A girl—woman?"

"Spike?"

Hermione's eyes followed the man's to the spot outside the hallway where Ginny was standing beside a stiff looking Buffy. The Slayer's eyes were wide, lips barely parted.

Spike simply stared at her a moment, as if taking in her whole presence. "Hello, lover," he whispered.

End Notes: To recap, Giles is downstairs with Molly, Draco is being put in a broom closet by Fred and George, Hermione is a bit freaked because of all the things that have happened over the past few hours and Buffy just realized that Spike is alive…Ok, anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this shorty. I'll be updating again soon—because I can't leave you with that little cliffy. I just wanted to mention that I will be bringing in other favorite characters soon, such as Willow.

So review with comments and suggestions.