Chapter 17: Battle's End

"Giles slow down, what's going on?" asked Willow. The group watched with some tension as the vampires began to slowly approach.

"There is a prophecy. I didn't know...did you know he'd killed Voldemort...?" Giles turned to Buffy.

"No...I didn't," Buffy shook her head.

"Explains some things though," commented Xander catching onto the tail end of their conversation.

"Like why he thought he could defeat Macnair, what is the servant when he already beat the master," Giles shook his head.

"Uh, now really isn't the time to talk," Angel yelled as he struck back an approaching vampire.

"Right," Buffy said. She stepped forward and stood next to Angel. She raised an eyebrow at the vampire across from her. It was the blonde from earlier, the one whose jaw she'd busted...however judging by the way he was smiling it wasn't busted now. She held the stake in the left hand and shield in the right, with a quick motion she jabbed at the vampire's heart. The blonde vamp swerved, leaning back and putting pressure on his heels. Using the momentum, the vampire leaped in the air and sent a kick at Buffy's neck. Thinking quickly, the slayer raised the gold shield Harry had given her. She had only intended the metal shield to block the vampire's kick, but couldn't help but smile in surprise when the vampire's foot stopped inches from the metal shield, the vampire's body flung a few feet away, landing in pile of awkward limbs.

"That's cool," commented the slayer. She eyed the shield speculatively. "Hey Giles, you said we need to get to Harry right?"

"Quicker the better," shouted Giles as he battled his own vampire.

"I got an idea."

-

-

It was easy to follow Macnair. His magical trail reeked of Voldemort. Few Deatheaters had known how much the Mark would alter them. Harry knew. He had Voldemort's magic simmering through his veins. And, there were few wizards alive who had bonded to their magic the way Voldemort had. Some wizards, like Dumbledore, had bonded into their magic naturally over time. It was true that as most wizards grew older, they gained more power. Most of the time it was almost unnoticeable, but for a few, age brought them massive amounts of new power. Voldemort had never been the patient type. Dark rituals had burned Voldemort's soul into his magic, making him more powerful but forever binding him to his magical core. Harry still seemed to possess fragments of that soul, memories...whatever you wanted to call it. He'd dream about them if he wasn't careful. But through that connection, he knew almost all that could be known about the Dark Mark, at least now after its creators demise. That tattoo didn't go into his follower's skin, it burned into their very magic. Now that Harry had been close enough to Macnair, he'd have been able to follow him to hell and back.

And, Hell happened to be where they were going.

The ground beneath his feet seemed to burn with magic. His skin crackled with the energy, sparks of magic flaring in his fingertips. It was intoxicating, a rush unlike anything he'd ever felt. A somewhat quieter voice in the back of his mind warned him that this was what Dumbledore had spoken of.

"Opening your magical core, altering it, Harry you've opened a door. One I don't we are meant to. You'll have to be careful, you'll be more open to outside influences...you mustn't let it become too much, you won't like the consequences." The old man's words echoed in his head.

A voice spluttering like fire told him that the old man didn't know what he was talking about, there was only power. Power was all that mattered. No matter where it came from. Harry's eyes gazed sideways and narrowed as he realized that Voldermort's magic seemed to approve of him, seemed to be proud of Harry and how he had come upon so much more power.

No.

"Harry, what do you think?" Macnair's voice intruded the inner argument that Harry was starting. What did he think? He wasn't currently sure. Things were a little muddled. Still, as his glowing eyes met Macnair's blank ones he felt a swift burning of rage.

"I won't let you do it. This will stop." His voice was like his mind, a wavering tone that switched between anger and cold control.

"Hmm, are you sure Harry." Macnair leaned forward, as if trying to look closer into Harry's eyes. He watched the boy's face with a somewhat anxious attachment. "I know you're in there somewhere." Macnair ground the words out slowly, continuing to watch Harry. Harry drew back from Macnair's close inspection. His wand raised in his hand with a smooth motion.

"Stupefy," he said. A red bean shot from his wand, but so much power was restrained in the spell that the light seemed more like a solid mass. Macnair quickly cast a shield charm, but he was pushed backward from the force. A smile lit his face.

"Really now, a stunning spell, that isn't what I'm looking for from you. I had thought you'd care more. Harry–"

"Expelliarmus," shouted Harry. Once again Macnair spun out of the way. "Incarcerous" responded Harry. Thick roped wrapped around Macnair's legs, but the wizard shot a loosening spell and jumped out of the ropes that had been twisting up his knees.

"Alive, you imagine you can stop me while I still live? I didn't think you were such a fool. I will never stop. I will always follow you, if for no other reason than to make that muggle girl scream again. Music Harry, not quite as fine as you...but still, music." Macnair was forced into silence while he made a quick twist to the left to avoid a blood boiling hex, cast directly at his head.

"Better Harry, better." He muttered under his breath, turning to face the boy. For a boy was what he still was, only the boy, unless he could be brought out.

Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was shaking in anger. Foreign dark magic still buffeted him, as if he were standing in a raging river. His wand let curses fly. Cutting curses, ripping hexes, bone breaking spells, and as time went by his magic became steadily darker. He began to forget why he was fighting. The Hellmouth was forgotten. Buffy and Giles were gone from his mind. He was merely a whirlwind of magic intent of fighting, intent on bringing as much harm to Macnair as he could. He unleashed a painful spell that, had it hit, would have ripped Macnair's heart from his chest. But the wizard was amazingly quick. He should have expected it. Macnair never bragged like the others, nor took part in the mock duels so many of his Deatheaters had. He'd always been more quiet and he's respected that about him. A true Slytherin. Why were they fighting again? He paused and examined the air around him. Macnair was breathing heavily. He watched him for a moment. Blood leaked from his shoulder, down his hand, dripping onto the floor. One of his cutting curses must have grazed him. It was quite obvious that he wouldn't be able to keep up his current level of dodging and ducking. Macnair was being beat by nothing other than time. It was over.

"Master?" Macnair's voice leaked out from him filled with a desperate kind of hope.

"Master?" the word fluctuated in tone. It seemed familiar to be called such, and at the same time terribly wrong and unnatural.

"I'm– " Harry recoiled internally, but couldn't seem to make his body respond. He wasn't out of control, it wasn't like the Imperius curse. He felt like something was weighing his conscious mind down, as if something bigger and stronger was smothering him. His mind flickered by quickly, examining his current situation. He watched Macnair.

"You never intended to open the Hellmouth." His voice seemed slightly foreign, colder.

"Never, why would I? I lied to the beasts. I'd have no place in hell."

"I'm certain you'd fit in quite nicely, Macnair. You also seem to slither into a situation that suits you." Macnair bowed his head, Harry noted a smile flicker across the man's face.

"Stupefy," cast Harry, but Macnair still seemed to be on edge. He moved with barely enough time to keep the red light from striking his head.

"I see Potter isn't suppressed yet, but you shall overcome him my lord." Macnair's words were spoken with a fervor.

Harry shook his head at the fool. Macnair, the able follower, wanted his Master back. He had discovered what spell Harry had used and assumed that the Dark Lord lay dormant in the boy. But he was wrong. Voldemort's magic still existed, as did a few memories. But the Dark Lord was dead. Yet, without knowing it Macnair had awakened something, not Voldemort but perhaps something else, a part which Harry had spent a great deal of time keeping buried. The part that had been constantly belittled by the Dursleys, the part that had been ridiculed by Hogwart's student and staff. The part who listened to his mothers final cries. A thing fueled by all the pain he'd experienced and never given into, guided by Voldemort's knowledge of magic perhaps. But, Macnair had no idea what he was doing.

-

-

If you had an ariel view of area surrounding the Hellmouth, which was currently under a blackened school, you would find the current activity to be one of great interest. If you didn't have an ariel view...well you'd probably be picked off pretty quickly. A massive army of vampires and demons surrounded the former highschool. But a strange bunch of people, surrounded by a dark glint of gold seemed to be pushing through the standing army rather easily. Whenever one of the darker creatures grew too near, a strange force seemed to act to push them away. Some adventurous vampires had tried running toward it at great speed, but the strange force seemed to double whatever speed they'd approached at, flinging them even farther. A few smarter vampires used their agility and jumped over the strange shielding only to leave a trial of dust behind as group moved on.

"This was a great idea," shouted Xander above the roar of their frustrated enemy. Xander was positioned on the left, holding his shield. Giles was upholding the right side of their box formation, his shield capping that end. Buffy and Angel also helped uphold the sides, but spent most of their time with stake or sword in hand slaying the vampires who got past the shields. Willow and Oz used their shields to complete the box. Oz had been assigned as front man, his werewolf strength was coming in handy for plowing through the vampires and demons, even if the magic shield did most of the work. Willow gladly agreed to be in back. She prevented the vampires from flanking them splashing some of Giles's holy water at the more persistent.

"What can I say, I'm a genius." added Buffy with a smug smile as she beheaded one vampire in midair.

"It's a phalanx!" agreed Giles. His voice slightly less bookish than normal. He smiled slightly as he watched their group continue to cut through the vampire lines.

"A what! That doesn't sound clean," Buffy shot her watcher a confused look.

"This, this structure was used in the Ancient Greek military. Of course they had regular shields, not magical ones, and used spears to keep opponents back but–"

"Yeah, yeah less talking more running," advised Willow as the group stumbled for a minute.

"Eh, right," agreed Giles. That was the tricky bit. They all had to move like one organism, and this certainly wasn't something they had practiced. Giles and Xander were almost back to back, walking as fast as they could while keeping their torsos turned to the side. Buffy and Angel were crammed in the center, watching for incoming vampires and moving their shields as needed to guard the sides. Willow really had the worst of it, she had to walk backwards, and very fast. It was a difficult thing to work. But, Buffy smiled slightly, it certainly was a testament of how well they could work together when they needed to.

"Are we going to lead them into the building?" asked Angel. He examined the vampires who were following them.

"That doesn't sound like a good plan," shouted Willow from the rear.

"I think the doors on the west side are still standing," suggested Oz.

"Yeah, if we head there, we might be able to get inside and shut them out...for a bit. They'll still get in...too many holes in the building...but it might give us some time to get to Harry." Buffy nodded her head as she spoke. The others quickly agreed. They needed a moment to breathe.

The formation headed for the west end of the building. Geographically this end of the building was furthest from the library and the Hellmouth, but the vampires didn't know the high school as well as Buffy and the others did. There was a small hallway that linked the two. It was mostly just for the boiler room, electrical utilities, and administration offices but it was still standing last time they checked. It should lead them right to the entrance of the library.

The gang scuttled to a halt before the doors, breaking up the formation to create one solid line that kept the vampires back while Buffy broke through the door that was still standing. They backed inside and Angel found a beam, no doubt from the now shaky ceiling, and braced the door which Buffy had jammed shut. A furious bang hit the metal door as the army of vampires vented their frustration. But, if these doors had held solid after an explosion, it could outlast demonic assault, for a little bit anyway.

"That's not gonna last forever," advised Xander. The others all nodded.

"Well let's get to Harry then, what exactly is this Prophecy?" Buffy asked. She and the other had already started walking, cutting through the charred debris that blocked their path, yet she turned back to her watcher with a raised brow.

"Well, it's about the 'La Lumière d'Enfer', an old French prophecy. Recited by a well known–"

"Back on track," interrupted Buffy.

"Ah yes, La Lumière d'Enfer, en le temps–"

"Giles I failed French!" Buffy interrupted again.

"Sorry, ummm. Well La Lumière d'Enfer translates as 'The Light of Hell'. It's really a historically curious--"

"I'm not getting any younger here," complained Buffy as she flung a rather large piece of what was once the roof out of their way.

"Oh bloody hell, fine." Giles paused in his movements for a moment and tried to remember the wording. Bloody French, why hadn't he studied more French as a child. He'd been learning ancient Egyptian instead. "The first bit goes something like, 'Out of the...eh, darkness, yes. A hero will rise." Giles nodded falling into a rhythm.

"He shall strike down the foe that opposes him,

In victory and despair he shall travel to a distant place.

where the last of his blood dwells,"

"So Harry's the hero," speculated Willow thoughtfully.

"If he beat Voldemort, than he defeated his foe," Giles nodded.

"And they got the travel bit right," agreed Willow. "But in despair, poor Harry." The red head shook her head sympathetically. Buffy bit her lip, Harry certainly had come here escaping from the pain of his own home.

"Last of Blood, that is I. It even specifies that I'm a watcher, I'm such a dunce, I should have picked up on that... where the last of his blood dwells as

A guardian for the daughter of death and dust."

"Daughter of Death and Dust?" Buffy frowned.

"Every ancient culture had a different name for the slayer. Often in the days before the Watchers Council was as organized, sometimes Slayers might slip through the cracks. A girl would just get amazing abilities and she'd fight the vampires without knowing all the rhetoric that has been developed. Thus the Slayer has many names, in France, before the times of the Renaissance, she was called the Daughter of Death and Dust." Buffy was reflective for a moment. She'd never thought about all that.

"But Death and Dust? Sounds like a homicidal maid," commented Buffy.

"Hee, hee, cough...ummm, did anyone else just get a fun image of Buffy in French maid costume?" The other people in the party stopped and looked at Xander.

"Umm, neither did I," covered Xander hastily.

"Anyway," continued Giles, "At the mouth of hell the sinner will tempt with pain,"

"We're at the Hellmouth...and the sinner is Macnair?" questioned Willow. "What about the pain bit?"

"Trust me, the guy likes his pain," stated Buffy, plainly leaving no room for argument.

"Well the next bit is the one that has worried people for centuries.

'And the hero will be the light of hell.

The light of hell, will either burn the world

or, he will act as a light amid darkness

But darkness will triumph, and light fall,' "

"What! That can't be it, Macnair can't win?" Willow stuttered. "There must be a way out..."

"There is," appeased Giles. "The last line gives some hope but only is we get to Harry in time. But darkness will triumph, and light fall,

If not for the love of blood and dust." Giles turned to Buffy. Her large eyes looked up and him.

"Blood and Dust? That's you and me right?" She turned away and flung more debris from their path.

"I assume so." Giles watched his Slayer as she continued to work with Angel clearing the larger debris and flinging it behind them to obstruct the path in case any vampires might break through. She seemed to be involved in some thought and he wondered what could have distracted her during a battle. Sticky situations usually made her very focused. He hoped his talk of prophecies hadn't rekindled memories of her own prophecy and subsequent death.

But that wasn't what occupied Buffy's mind.

-

"Macnair," Harry's voice echoed in the chamber of the ellmouth. "Your Master is dead. He doesn't exist in me."

"No," Macnair's voice was filled with certainty. "He isn't dead. I can see him in your eyes."

"My eyes." Harry stood for a moment. His body didn't move but the light in his eyes grew even brighter. Macnair drew back slightly, his shadow cast on the wall behind him as the glow of light grew. The former Deatheater began to laugh softly under his breath. He had seen it too late. He took another step back. His hands trembled, eyes widening. Without knowing it Harry had ended standing directly over where the Hellmouth stood. And even Macnair's limited magical sight could see the power that poured around him. It was painful, so painful it was beautiful. The rumble of laughter grew spilling from Macnair.

"There is only one way this will end." Harry's words seemed to hiss from him like steam. He was tired of holding this all back. Tired, so bloody tired and there was no reason to hold on any longer. He'd kill Macnair, and he'd kill others and the bloodshed would never end. It would never be justice. There was no justice. That word was reserved for people who were still hopeful or naive enough to believe such a thing existed. If there had been any justice he would have died in May with Ron and Hermione. He would have finally been able to rest.

Was there really no rest for the wicked?

"Harry!" a voice cut across his mind like a scalpel. He turned his head to see a troupe of figures quickly emerging from a large whole in the wall from an area above him. He imagined that it might have once been a door. He stared at the group for a moment trying to see them clearly through the rich magical haze that flittered across his vision like fireworks. Harry spun in shock when a bright green light blasted over his shoulder toward the figures.

-

"Duck!" Buffy yelled. She sprang forward and slammed Giles to the ground as a bolt of green light exploded over their heads.

"Was that what I think it was?" questioned Xander from a crouched position behind some burned rubble.

"I'm guessing that was the death curse thingy," agreed Willow. She had also ducked out of the way, her head bowed.

"Anyone see Harry?" Giles asked as he and Buffy crawled toward the others.

"He's just standing there," answered Angel. The vampire peered out and then quickly moved back when a red light shot toward his head. Giles cautiously peeked out as well. He spotted Harry standing in the center of the room. His hands flexed at his side almost as if his fingers had grown stiff. Giles bit his lip as he tried to assess the situation. Buffy's eyes flashed around the room and he could only presume that she was doing the same thing.

Harry was facing Macnair, she could only see the side of his face and desperately wished she could read the expression on it. There was something wild in his face, something that reeked of power. He didn't look like himself. His wand was raised.

"Honestly Potter!" yelled Macnair to the assembled room. "I thought you had learned, I thought the dark lord had taught you something." Macnair's voice broke in laughter, the noise echoed in the explosion blackened room. "You made the same mistake, the very same mistake. You made friends, and I'll just take them from you one by one. Muggles even, they aren't even a challenge." Macnair raised his wand. "Accio." The word didn't make any sense to the Scoobies. But its meaning soon became clear. Willow began to yell as a strange force seemed to grab her and begin dragging her toward the center of the room where the two wizards stood.

"Willow!" both Oz and Xander yelled at the same moment. The werewolf wrapped his arms around the small wicca but whatever magic was tugging at her didn't seem to be denied. She just continued to slip through Oz's grasp. Buffy ran forward to assist. But before she was there a pop sounded loudly and Willow let out an agonized cry, Oz quickly let go. The red head flew to Macnair's feet, clutching her arm with a pain-filled expression. She landed a few feet away from the wizard with a slight thump and braced herself, a forced look of bravery settling on her face. With her good arm she raised the shield Harry had given her.

"Willow!" Buffy ignored her own concern about Macnair and hurtled toward her friend. The others wasted no time in joining her. Oz scrambled down to Willow, he kneeled beside her his eyes wide with concern, his hands wavered over her injured arm as if afraid to touch it.

"See, like animals Harry. Running to their own slaughter."

"Listen Bub, you might be mister tough guy where you come from but I'm the slayer. And this town isn't big enough for the both of us." Buffy stood firmly before Willow and the others. Her shield raised. She shot Harry a quick look before returning her gaze to Macnair.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," responded the wizard with a slight sneer. Harry hadn't moved from where he was standing. It must be the magic of the Hellmouth, concluded Buffy. She barely felt anything, she wondered what all this looked like to Harry.

"Let's have a little fun though, shall we. Crucio." Buffy remembered that word. Harry had told her that if it hit the shield it would radiate pain from where she held the shield. She had to be prepared for that. Unfortunately, he hadn't been aiming for her.

"AHHHHHH," Xander screamed in agony throwing his own shield to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Xander!" Buffy yelled. Her composure vanished as she watched her friend shake in pain. She noticed with an ounce of hope that Harry twitched violently where he was standing. But he wasn't coming around quick enough. Buffy leapt to her feet. She swung her shield like a weapon, aiming for Macnair's head. A burst of blue light came from his wand and Buffy was forced to change course to avoid the light. It ricocheted off her shield with a satisfying ding. She spun and landed on her feet. But she should have remembered the first rule of fighting wizards. Never get to close. She cringed in the millisecond when she realized that she had broken that rule and Macnair stood over her, his cruel smile on his face.

"Crucio"

Buffy gasped.

The air was knocked from her chest as a shoulder barreled into her, she stumbled her mind numb with the sound of screaming coming from behind her.

"Giles!" she yelled. Her watcher had leapt from the side taking the curse meant for her. But Macnair didn't seem to care who he had hit. He smiled, watching the older Englishman as he thrashed on the floor. Buffy and Angel both seemed to react on impulse flinging themselves toward Macnair. Giles screaming stopped as a blast of white magic hit Angel in the chest, flinging the vampire across the room. Giles breathed harshly on the floor. Buffy changed direction hoping to help her mentor. But, before she could reach him, his body once again became twisted and mangled as the painful spell took hold. Buffy growled in furry. But her eyes widened as she realized that she wasn't the only one who forgot things.

A hand darted out and clasped Macnair's neck, and as the hand made contact smoke began to rise from the skin beneath.

"No." Buffy trembled as the voice connected to the hand seemed to boil with heat. It didn't say anything else but that one word seemed to thunder through the room. Buffy felt the people behind her tense. Slowly, almost fearfully, she turned to examine the speaker. Harry really did look like the Light of Hell. His eyes glowed with an intense power that seemed to have been supercharged by the magic of the Hellmouth. His fingers tightened around Macnair's neck and the foul man seemed to tremble from some force Buffy couldn't feel. And although Buffy might not be able to identify all the magical stuff that was occurring, it was quite plain what was in fact happening.

Harry Potter, Light of Hell, whatever he was...he was killing Walden Macnair, and he was doing it slowly and painfully.

Buffy had only one thought on that. Good.

Buffy's own anger, watched with well-deserved satisfaction as Macnair continued to struggle. Wasn't he just as bad as all the monsters of the night that she battled and killed over the years? He deserved death just as readily as any demon did. Did it matter that this demon was clothed in human skin?

"Buffy..." a weak voice said her name and she felt something tug on her pant leg. She turned away from Harry and grasped Giles's hand.

"Don't worry Giles, Harry's taking care of him. Quite effectively."

"No, Buffy...he can't. Please...Buffy...stop him...the prophecy." Giles struggled with the words as his eyes gazed into hers with complete trust.

"Giles..." Buffy closed her eyes and nodded. She moved forward slowly. "Harry," she whispered his name softly. "Harry you mustn't." She shuffled to a stop when those brilliant eyes were cast upon her. There was on recognition in those fiery orbs, Buffy for the first time felt afraid.

"He must be stopped." The hot voice bubbled.

"You're right. But this isn't the way. Harry Potter knows that."

"Harry listen to her. This isn't right." Giles spoke with more strength than he possessed.

Buffy swallowed. She raised her hand and slowly reached out. She paused for a moment as she watched the dark smoke that seemed to come from Harry's grasp on Macnair. With a soft breath she let her palm press against Harry's hot skin. The touch burned for a moment and Buffy gritted her teeth but didn't let go. Yet the pain seemed to fade almost instantly. Harry's hand loosened from around Macnair's throat allowing the man to drop unconscious onto the floor. Buffy pulled Harry's hand to her cheek letting her lips brush across the burning palms as the cooled.

"Buffy?" Harry's voice whispered. The slayer turned her head and smiled as a pair of beautiful green eyes were visible once again. She hadn't realized how much she had missed them.

"Hey Harry," she replied just as softly.

"I...I almost...I did...I almost let go." Harry bowed his head shame creeping into his voice.

"Hey, no big. We'll be here to catch you." Harry's face shot upward a strange sort of amazement covering his features. He smiled.

"Bit of luck you're so strong huh."

"And don't you forget it." The two heroes smiled as they looked at each other, each unsure why they were so glad the other was there. Harry's grin grew as he alone watched the magic that swirled around them.

"Cough, eh? Guys? Don't mean to interrupt the romantic moment thing you got going but we got some company," Xander's voice brought them back to a little place called earth and more importantly the Hellmouth. It seemed the vampires and demons from outside had finally broken into the school and located the humans that had given them so much trouble. Buffy and Harry turned rapidly, back to back, they stared at what seemed to be the constant flow of dark creatures who were streaming into the former library.

"Well Mr. 'I'll just make sunlight' why don't you snap to it," teased Buffy.

"Okay," Harry nodded with a grin. He was more than ready to use the energy from the Hellmouth that had leached into his system.

"Oh...but what about..." Buffy shot a guilty glance at Angel. The vampire sighed as he watched the army grow closer and closer.

"I'll try to take cover, but don't worry about me, we've all got to go sometime and if now is–"

"Don't be so melodramatic," scolded Harry. The vampire glared at him, Harry shrugged. Angel watched in some fascination as darkness almost like a sunglass coating surrounded him. Once the Angel was safe, a bright sunlight lit the Hellmouth. The room soon became almost blinding as the other two hundred vampires in attendance bust into flame. Those nearest the door tried to escape, the demons seemed to have decided to follow the same route. Although sunlight wasn't as terminal for demons, they didn't like it, and perhaps they were somewhat intimidated seeing most of their comrades reduced to nothing more than cinders. In only a few moments the only people left in the room were a small group huddled in the center. The odd group all seemed to forget their injuries for a moment and took joy in the fact that they were all alive.

Buffy moved from where she was standing and glared down at the one villain left in the room that wasn't dust. Harry followed her gaze.

"Seems kinda empty huh," Harry shook his head as he spoke. Buffy however narrowed her eyes. With a quick movement Buffy's leg swung forward, Slayer strength evident in the speed and strength of the kick. Her foot connected sharply with Macnair's crotch. The males viewing couldn't help but cringe. Willow laughed, Oz sent her a somewhat cautious look.

"Loser," decreed Buffy as she looked down at the dark wizard. Harry smiled slightly.

"Probably best if he doesn't procreate anyway," concluded the wizard. Buffy turned away and flounced back to her watcher. She eyed Giles cautiously, measuring his health before gracing him with a blatantly deviant smile.

"Giles do you have ice cream?" Buffy asked, "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

"Chocolate?" questioned Harry. Giles rolled his eyes. The watcher reached into his shirt and pulled out a small pendant.

"Giles's Flat," he stated. In a small burst of magic Giles was whisked away back home. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Was that a yes?"

-

-

A/N: Dear readers sorry for the longer wait, but as I'm sure you were busy with the holidays as well. I also wanted to write this chapter right. I've been planning it for so long that it was rather intimidating to actually type. I'm putting it out without the most thorough editing, but I've been terribly worried about how you will all like this chapter that I don't think I can wait much longer. Feedback is always appreciated. Just a warning, my e-mail from the site doesn't seem to be working very well (or at all) for the moment so review responses might be a tad iffy. Hope you all know I still appreciate all reviews, smiles, even the mean ones. Helps me grow.

Hope you enjoyed this,

Della