Author's Note: Yes, Sirius and Severus are acting rather nice to each other. Well, they have a 'truce' of sorts, so I am writing them that way. In other words, they may be snippy with each other but they won't be nasty.

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"Actually, my godfather is an unregistered animagus." Harry supplied, sparing Severus the necessity of saying anything.

"And that is?"

"A wizard with the ability to become an animal," Harry said.

Buffy's eyebrow rose skeptically. "An animal?"

Before anyone could reply, a large black dog rounded the corner and leapt on Harry, knocking him to the ground. After thoroughly licking his face, he backed off and transformed.

"Speak of the devil," Severus muttered.

"And he shall appear," Sirius finished snidely. "Not very original, Severus."

"Why be original when we're talking about you, Black?" he asked, acid dripping from his words. "And, while I agreed to behave like a civilized adult around you, I never gave you the liberty to use my name."

"This is you being civilized? Thanks for telling me, the civility of your manner escaped me." The reply came sarcastically, though he was looking around at the assembled group curiously-especially the blonde whose eyes had narrowed at his name.

"Sirius Black? The murder? The escaped criminal?" Buffy asked, her voice low with warning. Willow looked at her curiously never having heard of him or of his situation. Buffy shook her head negatively, now was not the time to go into it.

Besides, why tell her friend that the Watcher's Council had informed her of his escape on the off chance that he came to Sunnydale on an errand for the Dark Lord. That they had ordered her not to say anything to her friends about him. She had reluctantly agreed when they'd threatened to harm her mother if she attempted to cross them.

"The escaped, wrongly imprisoned and accused criminal, my lady." He bowed over her hand, making as if to kiss it.

She pulled it away quickly and stared at him, hard eyed. There was something in his manner that reminded her of Angel and after falling for him and being burned, she wasn't doing it again. "I've heard that kind of thing before. Fell for it once, ain't falling for it now."

Severus sighed. "Unfortunately, Miss. Summers, in this instance, he is being honest. The Ministry did imprison him unjustly."

"Why, Severus, are you defending my honor? I'm flattered," Sirius fawned over him facetiously. Not that he was really interested in Snape. In his mind, there was no one living who could find the greasy git attractive. It was just that they had been at each other's throats for so long, that he'd become bored with the old ways of torturing him. This was new---and it was hilariously delightful.

"No one thinks you're amusing, Black-and stop calling me Severus," he snapped. Stop letting him get to you, Severus. He's just doing it because you've reacted to it.

"But it's so much fun to see your face when I take such liberties, Severus," he drawled for effect.

Before the professor could reply, Oz and Amy appeared on the road. "Hey."

"Hey," she greeted them. "What's up?"

"Nothing. But you forgot this," Oz handed her the wand.

"Miss. Rosenberg," Severus said in exasperation. "Kindly remember that your wand should always remain in your possession. It is not a toy to be carelessly used and discarded."

"Severus," Remus called out. "Be kind to her. She's new to all of this."

"New or not, she should show more responsibility for her wand."

"As you say," Sirius mocked. "But aren't you the one who forgot your wand all during first year?"

With a nasty glare at the reminder of his past, he answered with ill temper. "Thus I speak from learned experience, which is more than I can say for you. The only thing you are able to teach is advanced idiocy-and that is something anyone can be."

"I'm supposed to look to the both of you for guidance?" Buffy asked. "I think Mr. Zabuto would be more informative than you two."

Willow shook her head in exasperation, "which explains Oz. But what are you doing here, Amy?"

"I was curious. What is it that you do here, exactly?"

"Study magic," Willow shrugged. "What else?"

"But what kind of magic?" she pressed.

"I'll see you later," Oz said, turning to go, but then he looked at the professor. "Professor Snape, would it inconvenience you to take some time tomorrow to see me?"

"I have nothing pressing on my schedule tomorrow."

"Then I shall see you in the afternoon."

"Thanks for bringing this to me," she waved to him with the wand-until she saw Severus staring at her reproachfully. Instantly, the wand was tucked away. A sheepish grin crossed her face. "I'll get the hang of the hiding it sooner or later. Stop being such a droopy pants."

Sirius laughed, "I like that one."

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea. Guys who like me tend to get possessed and try to eat me. Or turn out to be a werewolf-and still try to eat me. Or turn out to be Moloch the Corrupter himself and try to break my neck no matter what I do," she quipped cheerfully. At the same time, the admission was a sober reminder of the life she had here. "Come on, Amy. I'll introduce you around and you can talk to Hermione. She'll tell everything that you want to know-and some things you don't."

Willow and Amy made their way upstairs with Willow talking a mile a minute. As usual. "Hey, Ron," she greeted the redhead sitting on the stairs.

"Willow," he returned the greeting, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Seeing the state her hair was in, he almost said something but thought better of it. One woman in his life being mad was more than enough for him. "Who's your friend?"

"Amy Madison, Ron," she introduced them easily, relieved that he'd said nothing, though she could see the questions burning in his eyes. "Ron Weasley, Amy."

"How do you do?"

"I do very well, and you?" she asked, studying the redhead. He didn't seem to be a bad guy, unlike the men she'd met so far. And, while Harry seemed like a nice enough young man, there was something rather off about him. That could, of course, be that whole destiny thing of his.

He shrugged, "been better. Hermione's mad at me, though I'm not sure exactly why this time. I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything this time. Though I did ask about her hair."

"Her hair?" Willow asked, her own hand rose to touch her own hair, still sensitive about it.

"She's got a series of blonde streaks running all through her brown hair. I told her it looks really strange when she asked. Not Hermione like," he explained.

Exchanging looks with Amy, the other girl decided not to say where he'd gone wrong. If he didn't know by now, he probably wouldn't get it if they tried to tell him. "So, she's not in the talky mood?"

"What? Oh," he quickly figured out what she meant. These Americanisms really confused him at times-especially when it seemed like she was making it up as she went just to confuse him. "Not really, she's sulking."

"I do not sulk, Ronald Weasley." A chilly voice corrected from one of the rooms. "I am merely avoiding your odious presence." The young woman walked towards them, studying first Willow, then the girl she was with curiously.

Opening his mouth to object, Ron thought better of it and shrugged. "If you say so, Hermione. Will, a word with you about our project."

"Cripes, I forgot all about that." She slapped her forehead, then winced at the pain. "Oh, that wasn't such a smart thing to do. Amy, meet Hermione Granger. Hermione, meet Amy Madison. Would you do me a favor and introduce her around? She's a witch."

"Like you?" she asked, apprehensively. Being alone with a witch like Willow was a bit intimidating-and having to take her around and warn others was not a happy prospect.

"Not quite," Amy said. "My power is generational."

"Meaning?" she asked, interested. Even if she was afraid, she was deeply interested in learning all about this new magic.

"I descend from a long line of priestesses serving the Mother Goddess. Therefore, I gather magic from the four corners of the Earth." This she had learned from studying her grandmother's books and journals. It was a mesmerizing and complex history that she found both confusing and received a measure of pride from it.

"Fascinating," she murmured, all ready thoroughly engaged in this new history of magic. She wished to learn more. "All right, we'll meet you later."

"Thanks," Willow smiled. "So, what were you thinking about?"

"It's Professor Snape, it doesn't matter what I do. He'll flunk me," he shrugged. The two headed towards the library, heads bowed in conversation.

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't do that," Willow objected.

"You don't understand Professor Snape, do you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?

"He outright hates us Gryffindors," he opened the door and waited for her to go through.

"On the contrary, Mr. Weasley, I do not desire to waste my emotions on your house. To hate requires that I care enough to engage myself in the first place," he coldly stated. "I refrain from doing so merely because there are more important things to stir my passions."

"Professor!" Ron gasped, stepping back.

"I am surprised that you know where the library is. It isn't your usual haunt, is it?" Grasping his arm, he nodded stiffly in their direction. "I shall leave you to it. Remember to replace everything that you borrow to its proper location. You are not the only students to use this room."

"Are you all right?"

He stopped at the door and glanced at her. "I am as well as can be expected under the circumstances we find ourselves embroiled in, Miss. Rosenberg."

"That man is scary," Ron muttered when the dark haired professor had disappeared.

"Never mind about him, what do you want to do?"

"May be we could write a report about the Hellmouth. After all, we are here."

"Oh, that's a good laugh. Weasley actually had a creative idea." Turning, they saw Draco Malfoy standing in the door, a speculative look on his face. "Love the hair, Willow. When did you decide to quit emulating Weasley and turn to me?"

Shaking her head, her hand rose and silenced Ron. "What do you want, Draco?"

"A book," he said. "Why else would I bestir myself to willingly share a room with a Weasley?"

"Then get one and stop disturbing us." Turning away from the aristocratic Slytherin, she nodded towards the shelves. "If we're going to do the Hellmouth, we'll need to do a lot of work. I'm pretty sure we can talk to Giles. As long as we don't try to get information about the Watcher's Council or the slayer, we should be fine."

"Why would those two subjects be off limits? They have something to do with the Hellmouth."

"Yes, but she's not supposed to exist. And we aren't supposed to know that she does," she replied ironically.

"That's stupid," Ron stated.

"Well, who can explain centuries old logic to a bunch of people who refuse to see that the world's changing?" she asked, a twisted smile on her lips. "So, where do we start?"

"This may be a long shot, but at the beginning?"

"Cute," she made a face at him.

"Me mum always thought so," he replied with a grin.

Though somewhat resentful of her dismissive attitude, Draco remained quiet and selected a book, curling up on one of the chairs to read. Their topic interested him, so he pulled out one of the ones he'd seen his Head of House reading. The trio read in a silence only occasionally broken by a few whispered words and suggestions.

After listening to the two engage in a little argument over some point in their sources, the Slytherin rose and walked over to them. Placing the book down in front of them, he pointed out a couple of passages. "You might find this to be of some aid."

Ron looked at it, then him skeptically. "What's it to you?"

"I'm just trying to offer some help like Professor Lupin has counseled us," he said, exasperated. "But if you don't want any help, fine."

"No. Thank you," he grudgingly said, skimming the indicated section.

"You are welcome."

"Who are you working with?" Willow curiously asked.

"Myself," he answered. "I don't need any help."

"May be not, but would you like to join us?" She ignored Ron's horrified look.

Curling his lip up in a sneer, he agreed. "If only because it annoys Weasley so much."

"Kind of you," she murmured, directing his eyes back to the books in front of them. "Sit down and read. We don't have an infinite amount of time to do this work."

UPSTAIRS:

"Amy, may I call you that?" she asked, once the two were out of earshot.

"Only if I can call you Hermione," she said.

Nodding, she hesitated before deciding to go ahead and ask. "What happened to Willow's hair?"

"You'd have to ask her that," Amy informed her bluntly. "It isn't my story to tell. Besides, I didn't really understand any of the explanation she gave."

"Willow seems to be quite precise when she speaks," Hermione began.

"Unless she's nervous, then she tends to babble." The statement was affectionate though. "And I do mean babble, brooks have nothing on that girl when she really gets going. Anyway, you want to know, just ask her."

"Ask? I'm rather afraid of what she'd do if I did," she quietly said.

"Why?"

"She rather attacked Blaise for making a crack about her lack of understanding," Hermione said.

Amy was a bit startled, staring at the witch in shock. "Willow attacked someone? Really? When?"

"After she came to stay here, it was all rather surreal now that I think about it."

"Ah, her fear made her lash out. Understandable. But surely she has become more comfortable with you and you've gotten to know her better. She has been among you for a while," she pointed out.

"True. But she doesn't really interact with any of us outside of lessons."

"Yes, lessons. What exactly do you learn here?"

"Ah, ah. You answer my question first," she maintained. "Hello, Lavender." Although her voice was friendly, she was upset that the girl had appeared. It interrupted the moment and she knew that it would not be regained.

"Hermione," the girl greeted. "Who's this?"

"Amy," she told her. "I'm showing her about."

"Pleasure, I'm on my way to the kitchen. Want to come?"

"Hi. Hermione?" It was an almost desperate plea for the other girl to say yes, though it was unspoken. Amy didn't want to talk about Willow and what happened to her without her friend's permission. After all, it wasn't her story to share.

"I think I should introduce you to a few others in case we get separated," she replied. But that wouldn't stop her from trying.

"Cool. I can wait," Lavender smiled. "Where to?"

Giving in with a shrug, Hermione led the way to their room. "How about with our roommates? If Amy visits Willow again, they'll need to be more familiar with her than the others."

"Excellent idea," the Gryffindor said. "Let's go."

OUTSIDE Right after Willow and Amy went in:

"Is she for real?"

Buffy nodded. "Willow is definitely real. So, what's the sitch with the wolf?"

"Wolf?" he tried to play dumb, though he had heard enough to know that something was up with the girl before him.

"Professor Lupin? Werewolf? I may be blonde, but I'm no dummy."

"What?" he stared at her, stupefied by her calm attitude.

"For those of you who weren't paying attention, I'm Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer." She introduced herself with a flourish that rivaled his.

"The slayer is a myth," he stated.

"So are wands and wizards," she retorted. "Are you saying that you don't exist?"

"I've been trying to convince myself for years that he doesn't. Regrettably, he won't play along with me," Severus drawled. "He continues to show up and annoy me, just like he did in school."

"Ah, Severus, you'd miss me if I wasn't around." His arm encircled the thin shoulders companionably and squeezed his shoulder.

"Like I would a tooth ache," he retorted, tossing off the arm and swiftly walking into the house. All the while thinking that he wished he could say what he really meant. But he couldn't. He had to act like a reasonable gentleman. The promise had been made and he had meant it. There really wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the headmaster.

Harry followed him with a shrug, smiling at Remus who was waiting by the door. "Professor."

"Harry," he greeted cheerfully. "What kept you?"

"They were talking," he said.

"About?" Remus encouraged.

"Something I'm sure Professor Snape would say doesn't concern me."

"And you?" Though it really wasn't any of his business, there was something in his voice that told him he should ask for more information. After all, Harry had a habit of getting involved in things that usually got him into trouble-even if he always came out of it relatively all right.

"Think he's only half right," he replied with a shrug.

Remus laughed. "Why's that?"

End, Part 8.