Author's note: Okay, so here it is. I promised Jacy I would do this, and I am.

This, ladies and gents, is the chapter that completely changed the entire fic. ENTIRE thing—the whole enchilada. Not because of a big plot point or anything, well, sorta, but because Jacy took one look at it and made me commit shipper homicide. (Yes, homicide. Don't give me that look. I'll capslock you!)

As I said before, I didn't write this fic in chronological order. The last chapter completely finished was an even tie between sixteen and eighteen. The ending chapter, twenty, has been done for a year. I started writing what became chapters one through three, and then eleven through fourteen. All through it, I was determined this would be a Draco/Pansy fic. I declared it. In my head, the D/P would rule. Jacy was along with the ride until this dreaded chapter seven.

What I wrote as a scene that was supposed to be filled with camaraderie and an understanding of each other's hard lives was turned into scene that became much deeper. And you know what, Jacy first mentioned the possibility of Draco/Buffy in August of last year. I still have the chat. I even told her I wouldn't change it. Four months later, Jacy requested a Draco/Buffy fic for Christmas. Then my brain started working. I sent Jacy an email riddled with capslocks cries for help, which she did not listen to. From then on, I re-wrote the fic to become Draco/Buffy.

And as a payback for giving me the idea, I tortured her with the UST. Mwahahaha.

So this is what I put to you, dear readers: does the scene between Draco and Buffy scream connection? I didn't change a thing from the time it went from D/P to D/B. It's just as I wrote it.

Thank you for all the reviews. I love how people are asking questions and getting involved. I think I lost some readers with the dark!Draco aspect, but oh well. I still have you lovely people to keep me going! This is the longest chapter of the fic, I believe, topping at over 5,500 words. A lot of explanations are zipping by. Hope you all like it!

And even though she made my eye twitch by turning this fic on its head, love to Jacy as well.

……………………………

She was in pain, but her eyes were drawn to the unseeing ones across from her. Even as her lungs burned as she took in oxygen, it was background to the pain she felt when Willow saw Amy's body on the floor. Her skin was pale and clammy, and there were clumps of hair near her head where she had gripped her scalp and pulled before Draco restrained her arms more properly.

A tear escaped her eye and slowly made its way down her cheek. Halfway down to her jaw, it evaporated with a sizzle. Willow went to wipe away the tear track, but found there was none. A cool hand on her forehead made her close her eyes in bliss. She was so hot.

"She's too hot, Draco. What's wrong with her?"

He looked up where Buffy was worriedly looking between Willow and him. Draco was standing over Amy's nearly-still body, counting the shallow breaths she took and noting the times in between where her fingers and toes would twitch randomly.

"It's the remnants of the curse. Run a cold bath upstairs and I'll bring her up shortly. I still need to do one more thing." Draco stepped over Amy's body and Buffy swallowed, her teeth clenching when she stared at the near lifeless body on the ground. All she could think about were his eyes when he had held Amy down and smiled when she screamed.

"You're not—"

He shook his head. "She's not dead, so I'm not going to waste my energy. I'll deal with her later. Now please run the bath."

Clearly reluctant to leave Willow, she nodded and headed up the stairs, pausing at the top to send her friend a sorrowful glance.

Once the door closed, Draco stared into Willow's eyes. "This is going to sting a bit. It'll help prepare your body for the cold bath upstairs. We can't let your temperature stay so high." Without waiting for a response, he cast a cooling charm in the air around them, and Willow shivered. Draco pulled her into his arms and she whimpered at his stinging touch.

"Hurts," she gasped, pushing against Draco's chest but she was too weak.

"And if we didn't do this, you would have a heart attack when you got into the bath Buffy's running. Endure this for just a moment and then we can go upstairs. Just breathe through it."

The basement was filled with Willow's heaving breaths and occasional gasps of pain, but after a moment, Draco's touch didn't sting against her own skin. He Apparated them upstairs into the bathroom. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bath testing the water. When Willow and Draco suddenly appeared in the small space, she lurched back and only her reflexes saved her from falling into the bath.

Buffy glared at Draco, who was grinning at her in amusement. "If I had fallen in, you would be in pain."

"Oh relax," he scoffed, moving Willow to lean against the vanity. "I could have dried you off in a second."

Buffy was immediately at Willow's side. She pushed some hair off of her forehead, and smiled when Willow looked at her. The blonde couldn't believe the difference in Draco now that Willow was safe. She knew he was drained, and that he had to be in pain because he was wincing every once in a while. Willow had told her in the basement this was dangerous for Draco as well, but at the time Buffy thought he was just trying to be cruel to Amy. Now that she was watching him, tired and almost swaying on his feet, a bit of her anger disappeared.

"Help her with the bath; she's a little weak. She's also very tired, so I suspect she'll want to go to sleep as soon as she's at her normal body temperature." Draco started to leave the bathroom, but Buffy's hand caught his wrist. He turned back.

"Thank you," Buffy whispered, her face open and honest.

Draco nodded and left the bathroom. The door closed with a soft click, and he quickly made his way down the stairs. When he stopped at the bottom, he glanced up, making sure he wasn't being followed. After straining a bit, he heard splashing water and strode over to the fireplace, pulling a small, green pouch from his back pocket. He dipped his fingers inside, and threw the powder into the fireplace, and spoke clearly, but softly.

"Office of Andromeda Tonks."

…………………………..

Willow had been exhausted, and she had nearly fallen asleep in the cold bath twice. Once she was dried off, Buffy grabbed the thermometer from the first aid kit under the sink. Her temperature had dropped to near normal, and she was led into her room and put to bed. Buffy grinned when Willow started to lightly snore before her head even hit the pillow. She covered her up lightly and turned on the fan, still making sure she was cool. It started up and a cool breeze flowed through the room. As she left the room, Buffy slowly made her way down the stairs.

It had been a completely different Draco she had spoken to today. This man was cold and harsh, not caring about Amy's life, and almost unnecessarily cruel. True, Amy hadn't died and Willow was safe now, but the pain Amy had been in must have been terrible. Draco used magic to silence her screams after the first few minutes, but Buffy didn't think she'd ever forget that face of absolute pain and terror—eyes clenched tight and mouth open in a silent scream. Her body had arched and her hands locked into claws, and she had even started to go after her eyes and scalp before Draco chained her wrists to the ground. It was an image Buffy never wanted to see again. He'd insisted that she be unbound for the beginning of the ceremony, but part of her only thought Draco wanted to see Amy squirm in pain.

At the bottom of the stairs, she turned left and walked through the dining room and kitchen. She was about to go back down to the basement, but saw Draco lying on the ground outside. At first, she was terrified that something had happened and he had collapsed, but as she started to briskly walk out the back, she saw him breathing. His face was turned up to the sun and he moved languidly on the grass. Slowly, so as not to disturb him, she walked outside and down the steps to the lawn.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly.

Draco took a few more breaths, his eyes still closed. "I don't like heating charms. They only warm the skin. There's something about the sun that warms the entire body. I'm also fairly tired. Fixing that mess and then Apparating all over the place is tiring." He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright light before closing them again and throwing his arm over his forehead. "Is she asleep?"

Buffy sat down and crossed her legs, staring down at him. "Yes. She was out before I even got her in the bed." There was a somewhat uneasy pause. "What's going to happen to Amy? Is she still in the basement?"

It was so surreal talking like this, she decided. For a moment, she sounded like she was part of a serial killer ring, and they had bodies stashed down in the basement. The conversation was almost too casual, and she felt stuck in a bad horror movie.

"Yes. I've secured her down there, not that she's going anywhere, and she'll be picked up later this afternoon," Draco replied. Buffy was envious because he sounded so indifferent and uncaring, as if this entire ordeal didn't affect him at all.

"Who? What's going to happen to her?"

Draco moved his arm and turned his head to face her, his eyes opening. "My aunt and cousin. Both work in the Ministry of Magic and are willing to help smuggle Amy into the country, and take her to a healing facility. I seriously doubt she will ever be anything resembling normal, which means there won't be too many questions. She'll be comfortable for the rest of her life."

For some reason, his plan did little reassure her, but all she could do nod and accept it.

"Do you have a problem with me now?" Draco asked bluntly. It shocked Buffy, but it was such a difficult question to answer that he couldn't reply quickly enough. "Because if you do, I don't give a shit, but out of respect, I'll leave. I can relocate and Willow can come to me, or if worse comes to worse, I'll sneak her into Britain. What I'm doing is helping, though, and I refuse to stop. I can't help the way I was raised. I can't help that I had dark magic forced into me. All I can do is try to make it bearable."

Buffy leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and putting her face in her hands. She took a few deep breaths and pushed the hair out of her face. "And I think that's the only reason I'm semi-okay with all of this. Some part of me can see that you're helping her." She sat back and sighed, looking anywhere but Draco's face. "I meant what I said, about not knowing a world without Willow. You're keeping her grounded for me. So thank you."

Her voice became hard and she glared at him. "But if you ever pull anything like that again, I will kill you myself." She wasn't expecting Draco to grin lazily at her.

"Promises, promises."

Draco sat up slowly, stretching his back. He rubbed his arms, still shivering a bit. Buffy reached out and touched his arm, brow furrowed at his still slightly-cold skin. Feeling it sparked a memory.

"Those bruises on Amy; they weren't normal bruises. You were cold, and I'm not talking about your attitude. I'll accept you helping her, but having you surprise and… hell, I'll be honest, scare me like that? I can't accept that. I want explanations."

To her surprise, Draco nodded. "I expected it after today. Willow knows a bit about me and my past, but not all of it. Let me get some tea and I'll rejoin you."

Buffy stood with him. "I think there's some vegetable soup left over from dinner last night in the fridge. I'll heat it for you."

He nodded his head in thanks and followed her inside. Buffy went to the refrigerator and pulled out a large ceramic bowl covered in aluminum foil and grabbed two small bowls, filling each with a bit of the soup. She put both in the microwave and turned it on, leaning against the counter. Draco had pulled out his tea service that he kept in the kitchen.

Everyone always teased him about how picky he was over his tea. Giles was the only one who didn't complain because he always grabbed a cup while he was over, which often led to a glaring match over the tea kettle. He waved his wand at the cup he had laid out, and water mysteriously poured into the cup and started to steam.

The microwave beeped and Buffy pulled the hot bowls out. When she turned around, Draco had conjured a tray and put his steeping tea on it, along with a glass of water and silverware. Buffy placed the two bowls on the floating tray. It started to float out in front of them, and she shook her head, still unnerved by the random floating objects she'd find in the house these days.

They took a seat on the patio furniture and Draco again lounged in his chair. He quickly stood, took off his shirt and sat back down, tilting his head back towards the sun with a sigh.

Buffy couldn't help but stare at his pale skin that was riddled with scars. "Wow. And I thought my body was a painful canvas," she joked.

"Well you have the advantage of quick, natural healing," Draco said with a smirk. "The people who gave me these scars were only interested in keeping me alive when they healed me, not making sure I was still pretty."

"They? People did this to you?" The more she looked at the scars, the more confused she became. With the exception of a long, thin scar that ran along his right collarbone, none of the other scars looked like they wouldn't be caused by any torture instruments she had ever seen.

"The people I betrayed years ago did this. They had to play with me first before they killed me. I was a spy in the Death Eater ranks, and when they found out, they weren't happy, to say the least."

Draco took a sip of tea, and Buffy swore she saw steam come off his throat when he swallowed. She shook her head and drank her water.

"I've never seen scars like those. Are they…"

"Magical?" Draco finished as Buffy nodded. "They are. A lot of witches and wizards think that Death Eaters often participate in Muggle torture, but they're wrong. Why whip someone when you can make their blood boil or every bone in their body shatter? And that last one is a bitch, by the way. Not very pleasant."

Buffy shook her head, which wouldn't wrap around the fact that he had just admitted to having every bone in his body shattered. "Magical torture certainly doesn't sound like a walk in the park. Is that the reason you're always so cold?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really. A Death Eater who was charged with killing me screwed it up, and I was cursed. It's called the Dementor Curse. Dementors are dark beings that are the worst type of magical creature. They consume positive energy and they can destroy any feeling of warmth or happiness a person can have. And when they kiss you, they suck out your soul. The Dementor's Kiss is the death sentence of the Wizarding world."

Just hearing the description made Buffy shiver. "You were turned into one of these things?"

"No, but Aunt Bella certainly tried."

"Your aunt?" Buffy asked sharply.

Draco looked over at her and laughed quietly. "I forgot you weren't in the room for this explanation. Your sister and Willow knows this. My aunt, my mother's sister that is, was one of the Dark Lord's most valued followers. She and my father were his most trusted servants, along with one other—my godfather and mentor who helped me turn spy. His cover was blown before mine, but against his wishes, I stayed to keep information flowing to the Order of the Phoenix, the counter group of the Death Eaters."

He lifted his right arm, the one that displayed the phoenix and wand tattoo.

"Pissed the lot of them off, as you can imagine. To this day, I still don't know how they found out I was the spy. There were whispers of others getting information out, but I was always kept in the dark about it, both for my safety and theirs. It doesn't matter now," he said with a sigh. The trees swayed with a slight breeze and Draco shivered. It knocked him out of his daydreaming and he continued.

"I had been told that there was a raid by my father. I was expected to go and help shoot down survivors who might run. It was my normal job. He owled me with the coordinates. It was a smaller clearing than the normal meeting place, and that clued me into something being very different—as did my father tossing me to the ground with a lovely sneer on his face."

Buffy was cradling the cup of tea to her chest, ignoring the burn from the heat. Their bowls of soup lay forgotten on the tray, still steaming.

"I don't remember a lot of what he said. My mind was trying to go through different escape scenarios, but I was helpless. Father grabbed my wand, and I had no other means of protection. No one knew where I was, or that I was supposed to go out with the Death Eaters. I thought I was going to die."

She finished off the tea and slowly put the cup down. "It's not that much fun. Promise."

Draco smirked at her and also finished his tea, grabbing the small bowl of soup and starting to slowly eat it. He didn't blow on it like Buffy, instead relishing in the heat. She noticed that his skin was starting to look more alive and not deathly white like it had been.

"Anyway, I did hear a few words. Mostly about how they knew it was me, and that I would no longer supply information like a good little spy. Instead, I'd stick close and do the bidding of my father, my aunt, and Voldemort only. I thought they were going to iCrucio/i me until I screamed myself hoarse and collar me somehow. That I could handle. All collars can be broken, but instead my aunt stepped up and I knew what was going to happen. She's a professional at torture, but not the short kind. She draws it out, makes it hurt on a very deep level. When I saw her come forward, that's when I was truly terrified."

Half the soup was gone, but Buffy still hadn't touched hers; she was too enamored with his story. Draco moved his chair a bit more into the sun because it was setting, and the small movement shocked her out of her staring. She moved her own chair closer to the small wooden table and took a few small bites of soup. It was quiet again, but she didn't want to rush him into the story. She knew from experience he would tell on his own.

About fifteen minutes of silence went by in which they both finished their warm food. With a wave of his wand, Draco sent the cups and bowls back to the kitchen to be cleaned, making Buffy grin. "You're a nifty little maid to have around."

Draco glared at her. "Hold your tongue. I didn't want to get up and put them in the sink, and I also didn't want bugs to come join us." He looked down and rubbed his wrists in thought. "Talk of torture probably isn't the best thing to discuss after we've just eaten, but it's not graphic. I also doubt that anything I say could shock you too much."

"You'd be surprised. Just because I'm a slayer who hunts evil doesn't mean I know every evil thing out there," she replied, pulling her knees up. She laid her feet on the edge of the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. "But I can still listen."

Again, it was quiet for a while, but eventually Draco nodded and took a deep breath to continue. "I honestly don't remember much. There was too much pain, and I had Aunt Bella continually tearing down my mental shields and trying to rape my mind. I was lucky because my Sealer abilities allowed for my shields to be impenetrable to the harshest barrage of attacks. Of course, that meant she just tried harder and it hurt that much more. They didn't get much information out of me, and that irritated them. Finally, Voldemort called it off, and I lay in the middle of the Death Eaters, bleeding, broken, and nearly out of my mind. The one thing I do remember after that was looking past the gloating Dark Lord to see my father. Everyone thought Lucius Malfoy was a cold bastard who didn't feel anything, but I knew better. I knew he was excellent at Legilemency, a form of mind reading."

Draco continued to look down and pulled one leg up, resting his foot on the edge of the chair. He threw his right arm over his knee and sighed. "I risked everything at this point, and it was completely selfish and stupid of me to do so, but I had to do it."

Buffy looked at him, curious. "Do what?"

"I had to tell him I was sorry." Draco finally turned to look at her. "I opened my mind a bit and let him see how truly sorry I was that things had come to this, but it was what I believed. I also knew that after the long torture session, they weren't going to keep me. With my mind so solid, I was a large liability, and the only way to keep me from going back to the Order was to kill me. So, I looked at my father, told him I loved him and mother, told him I was sorry, and that I would gladly accept my fate." He laughed a bit, without humor. "The look on his face was almost comical, and I would have laughed had the circumstances been different."

"Why do you say that?" Buffy asked.

"Up until that point, he had been so sure that I would be kept alive. When I told him goodbye, he realized they would kill me and it scared the shit out of him. He may have been angry at me, but he still loved me. I don't know what ran through his head after that, but I didn't have time to ask, and I'll never ask him now."

Draco stood and started to walk along the wooden deck. Buffy turned in her seat to watch him. It wasn't nervous pacing, just restless. She noticed he looked almost normal, and he was no longer shivering every time a breeze blew through. His hands clenched into fists periodically and the muscles in his shoulders tensed randomly.

"Aunt Bella thought the perfect death for me would be one where my body would live, but I would be in eternal torment. I would be cursed to never feel happiness, and anyone who came near me would die. It was genius, and well thought out, but she didn't know that it wouldn't work on me. I do remember looking over at father and he started to walk towards me. Well, I say walk, but at that point everything was in almost in slow motion for me. I saw Aunt Bella stand over me and say the words of the curse, and I remember being so cold, but after that—it's almost like I blacked out, but it wasn't from the pain. Healers who looked at me afterwards say the intense cold stopped my heart and that I died, but there were no bright lights, no tunnels, and no dead relatives. It was just black. Sound familiar?"

A grin flashed across Buffy's face. "Believe it or not, I don't remember anything from either time I was dead. There are some déjà vu moments from the second time, but nothing definitive. Sorry."

She was waved off. "Doesn't matter. I woke up and there were shouts around me. It was clear the curse wasn't going to work, and someone came close to examine me. His name was MacNair, and he was a nasty son of a bitch. He was an executioner, and he enjoyed the light going out of people's eyes more than seeing them writhe in pain. I know that because when I grabbed him, I took a quick look in his mind to see who it was, and right after that, I ripped it to shreds. He fell down next to me, bleeding from his eyes, ears, nose… anything that the blood could get through. He was dead. The brain literally ruptured under my attack, and he bled into his skull."

Draco flexed his fingers and Buffy followed the small movement. She could see that the tips were still too white, and that they much have still been too cold. Figuring he must have been trying to get feeling in them, she held her own hands up. "Mine are still hot from the tea and soup. Can you sit still long enough?"

He grinned at her and walked back to his seat. "My toes are also still freezing. Hands and feet are always the last things to warm up."

His large hands were soon being rubbed Buffy's smaller, but warmer, ones. They both kicked off their shoes and she put her feet on top of his. "Thanks," he said softly, giving her a small smile, which she returned.

"Anyway, I was still too weak from all the other torture, and that attack had cost me my last strength. I had no idea what would happen to me now. I remember hearing Voldemort order my father to restrain me somehow while they figured out what to do. He was sure I wouldn't kill my own father, and he was right. I looked up and there he was, standing over me with his wand pointed at my heart. I didn't understand the look on his face. There should have been hatred or disgust or something like that, but all I saw was a cold mask. To everyone else, they wouldn't be able to read it, but I knew. He was icalculating/i," Draco said with a smirk. "It was the look that he gave people when he was trying to work out if they were worth a gamble. And I was. Next thing I knew, he reached down, grabbed my arm, and I was side-along apparated to Malfoy Manor. As soon as we got there, he locked down the wards, but the surprise was nearly every Order member was there."

Buffy stopped rubbing his hands and looked at him with an inquisitive glance. "How did they know?"

"Pansy. She's a Seer, and she saw what happened to me, and my father's defection. They were waiting there for me so they could be there before he closed the wards. My mother let them in. They brought healers and they started healing me while the rest took my father in for questioning. He told them everything he knew about Voldemort—where he was, where he had been, what his goals were. The information he knew was invaluable. It was so much more than I knew, but now they had it."

Draco pulled away from Buffy. "But it took them a while to figure out what happened to me. The Sealer nature conflicts with the Dementor curse. When I get angry, things around me freeze. It's a result of the absence of my positive thoughts. Sometimes it's a bitch to control it, but I can. It can be a burden, but it can also mask my dark magic, and my magical signature. It took years to develop the self-control to master that, but it's paid off. That's how I was able to slip out of England without anyone knowing. They can't monitor me like they could a normal witch or wizard."

"Well aren't you just so special," she teased. Draco chuckled and they both stood. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. They walked back inside and Buffy laughed at the dishes washing themselves. "Yes, you really are very special. Are you sure you can't have them permanently wash themselves?"

He shook his head. "If I did that, they'd wash themselves when you were eating. Soap isn't the best thing for a diet. Of course, you Americans eat the weirdest things."

Buffy snorted. "This from the guy on the side of the pond that also eats snails."

Draco laughed as he sat at the island, followed by Buffy. "Oh is that so? I am British, thank you very much, not French. We're not even on the same land mass."

She just shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You're still closer."

The phone rang, interrupting their laughter and light conversation. Buffy stood and reached for the phone. After spinning to lean against the counter, she answered.

"Hello? Hey Giles… no, everything's fine. Willow's upstairs asleep and I'm sitting in the kitchen with Draco… no, because I honestly have no idea. You'll have to ask Draco. I don't—no, I don't know when you can come back." She looked at Draco, who mouthed 'tomorrow morning'. "Draco says tomorrow morning." Buffy huffed. "Giles, I don't know iwhy/i it has to be tomorrow, okay? I'll talk to you then. Bye."

When she hung up, she slammed the received down. "He's so pushy."

Draco hid his grin with his hand. "It's because he knows what happens to me when I get angry. He was probably worried that something had happened. I'm honestly surprised he agreed to go."

"He trusts you, that's why," Buffy said, returning to her seat. "You know he wouldn't have even considered you to help Willow if he didn't."

"I know," he agreed. "He trusts me to help both you and Willow, and he trusted me when he told me about Dawn. When he came back to England, all he could talk about was how much he missed all of you, He kept wondering if he did the right thing, leaving you in Sunnydale. And when Pansy saw what happened to Tara and what would happen to Willow…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "He was heartbroken. My mother had to bind him to a chair, because he was ready to rush off to help. After he was made to see reason, that's when we came up with the plan to send him off with some of our magic."

Buffy interrupted him. "Does she have all of these people's magic in her? Are they going to get it back?"

"A lot of the magic she doesn't have anymore. Even for her, holding all of that power was too much, and she forced most of it back into the earth when she performed spells, or when she tried to raise that temple. She only kept a small portion of it, from a select few people. Each person didn't give much, but combined it was a lot."

The blonde slayer leaned onto the island, pondering this. She and Dawn had heard what happened from Giles and Xander after they had subdued Willow. Giles said that the coven's powers and emotions had overcome Willow, and she had wanted to help the world by ridding it of the pain it felt. A memory was sparked. She turned to Draco.

"When you first showed up, you said that you had given some of your magic, but not much, because it would have pushed her to the dark. You were talking about your dark magic and your Dementor thing, weren't you?"

Draco nodded. "Too much of my magic would have pushed the positive thoughts away from her, and then we'd be burning corpses and not sitting here in your kitchen. I had to be careful. But, my dark magic is also part of what she kept. Willow isolated it and kept it for herself, realizing that it was unique. Part of my magic will always stay with her, because magic adapts to its surroundings, but I'll get some of it back in the future."

He looked up at the ceiling. "She's about to be awake. I'm still amazed at how quickly her magic re-energizes itself. You can go see her if you'd like." Buffy smiled and quickly made her way to the stairs, where she stopped. "Say thank you," Draco said with a laugh, "and I'll freeze your hair."

She made a face at him and headed up the stairs, her footsteps becoming quieter and quieter. Draco stared out the window and sighed. Even though he was no longer cold, he was still very tired. If it weren't for his aunt and cousin coming, he would have collapsed in a bed and slept for days. The temptation for a quick nap was too great, however, and he laid his head on his crossed arms on the island. As soon as his eyes closed, they snapped open when he heard a loud pop from the backyard. A grin came over his face as he stood and walked to the back door. When he saw the two figures, his grin widened.

"Hello Tonks, Aunt Andi."