Destined for Good

Destined for Good
Part one: Bridges between the Worlds
Chapter one: Old Secrets are Revealed

=Sunnydale: the Magic Box =

Spike was sitting at the Research Table at the Magic Box, flipping through a book about very boring and very ugly demons. All the Scoobies had been called together to look up a new demon. Even though Spike had protested, and had tried to get out of book-duty, he had been forced to sit down by the Wiccans and a chair that moved on its own.
Willow and Tara claimed to have seen a demon, and they were clearly very disturbed about it. They had both come running through the door completely out of breath, and Tara had been whispering 'charms' over and over again. Willow had been a little less shocked, and had explained that they had seen some kind of demon that looked like a blonde woman with glowing hair, and who had some kind of mind control over the people on the street. Afraid they, too, would fall under the spell, they'd come racing to the Magic Box. Spike had been about to tell them that the woman they had seen was not a demon but a Veela, and that she was not evil, when Giles had clamped a hand over his mouth and hissed in his ear that the Muggles were not to know. Giles had then randomly selected some books, and put them on the table.

The Scooby Gang had been skimming book after book for their so-called demon for the past three hours. Had this been an actual emergency, and not a diversion created by Giles to prevent Muggles from knowing about the Wizarding World (which wouldn't even be the case because Bulgarian Veela were magical sentients as well), Spike would be prepared to do research for 'the Gang'. However, since this wasn't even life threatening - and because he was forced to read books about demons that were rapidly becoming too boring to tell apart - he was not. Spike slammed the tome he had been reading shut and folded his arms decisively. "I'm not doing this anymore," he said.

---
Buffy glared at Spike, but she decided that identifying her demon was more important than calling to order stubborn vampires. She went back to a picture of a demon with two heads and three breasts: "Not really".
She sighed and turned the page. A male demon with red eyes and a mane of black hair stared back at her. "Nope, it's not that one either," she mumbled to herself.
Buffy turned another page. She sighed again and closed the book. She reached for another one and opened it. She looked back at Spike, who was still sitting with his arms crossed. "You are so lazy," she said accusingly.
---

Spike looked around him. Tara was fervently turning pages and had a high pile of books to the right of her head.
Willow was looking for her mystery not-demon in a book of Fairy Tales. But, Spike thought, judging by the rate she's advancing; she isn't looking through it but reading it.
Buffy now had her head in her hands and was staring at her book.
The soldier boy was not even visible behind his large copy of 'Maneaters: demonic beauties you'll want to stay away from'. It made sense he would choose a book filled with pretty women.
The cause of all the frustration, his boredom, and Tara's panic himself, was reading a magazine. It would have been cleverly concealed if the top weren't peeking out from an ancient Slayer Chronicle.
Harris currently had his face on the charming picture of some reptilian creature. He looked like he was trying very hard to fall asleep.
Next to him, Anya was trying to look interested.
To his left and to Anya's right was Dawn. The brunette was muttering under her breath, glaring daggers at her sister. Apparently, she had had to give up a party at a friend's for useless research duty.

Willow's description left no doubt in his mind. Willow and Tara had seen a Veela. He knew she wasn't a demon and it wasn't hard to tell who else did. If this were a potentially dangerous situation, Giles would never have been reading a magazine; he would have been tearing through those books as if the ground would open up under him and he would be dragged to Tartaros if he slowed down. He had to admit it was more of a guess with Anya, but it was nearly impossible for someone who had been a demon for over a thousand years to have never even heard of Veela. Technically, along this line of thinking, Finn could know as well. However, logic ruled out that idea. He knew that boy. Riley Finn would have walked away from combat if there were only a lovely body waiting for him.

Spike looked around again. They were all determined to find their demon. As much as he hated even to think it, this was not fair to any of them. It had been a beautiful day and the night would have been perfect for a candlelit midnight picnic, or just for a walk. Even patrolling would be nice in this weather. But a conservative ex-Watcher was keeping them all inside. Maybe I should tell them, he thought. He shook his head. He wasn't certain if he should risk that.
On the other hand, he could very well be here for at least another three hours if he didn't. The night was too perfect to be locked up inside. Spike decided to tell the truth to the others. He should never have even thought of acting according to laws he was a hundred-and-ten percent against in the first place, let alone playing along with a game of deceit like this one. "You won't find anything in those books, you know."

Dawn slammed her book shut, smashed it against the table for good measure and went back to glaring at her older sister. Anya said something that sounded like 'finally' and stretched. Harris initially raised his head in confusion, but once he had processed the words, sighed in relief. Buffy's boy reluctantly lowered his book and seemed to blame Spike for ruining his fun. Buffy was banging her book against her forehead and was sending daggers in Spike's direction from beneath its cover. Tara was obviously afraid that bad news would be coming in her direction any moment now. Giles was frowning and probably hoping Spike would die on the spot. Willow just looked expectant.
"The woman they saw wasn't human, that's true. However, she was no demon either. She's a Veela, and won't do this place any harm. I didn't say anything before because the Watcher here told me not to. It's something to do with laws that should not exist in the first place."
"Spike," Giles said threateningly.
"No. It's a beautiful night and they," he indicated Willow and Tara, "should be having a picnic in the moonlight; not be worried to death about a vegetarian. And she," Spike put his arm around Dawn, "should be partying with her friends; not researching something she will never find because you've purposely been misleading them."

Buffy looked at Giles for confirmation, but the look on his face said more than enough. "Well, you heard him. Get out of here and go enjoy your wonderful night," he said.
Everyone got up to leave but Giles grabbed Spike by the collar of his duster and made him sit down again. "Everybody except for William here, that is. Get out. Spike and I are going to have a little chat."

---
The other seven quickly left the Magic Box, some to go and enjoy the night, others just because Giles' behavior had scared them. Dawn had raced off to see if her friend would still let her in. Willow and Tara went to have a picnic at a quiet part of the beach and maybe even some midnight swimming. Buffy vainly tried to convince Riley to spend the night with her, and Xander nearly had to drag Anya away from her beloved shop.
---

Spike watched Giles pace around the shop with an irrational feeling of apprehension. Giles' hands were behind his back. Spike thought he did it to keep his hands away from his wand. He'd never seen anyone get so mad over a minor (or rather a non-) concealment breach. Giles stood still and gave Spike a look that promised illegal spells if he so much as blinked. "There is a reason to not telling them, Spike. If you hadn't noticed it yet, they are Muggles."
Spike opened his mouth to answer, but Giles cut him off. "Not a word, Spike. They are Muggles, and as such, they aren't supposed to know there are species besides humans and demons. In fact, they aren't even supposed to know about the existence of vampires and other demons. For goodness' sakes, Wizards should not even know that. Now please tell me you had a better reason for telling them than that it's a fine night?"

Spike stared at Giles intensely. "I have a lot of reasons that are better in my mind, but that would never even occur to you," he said calmly.
"And what might those be?" Giles said with a sigh.
Spike sighed as well but decided to speak up. "I truly don't understand why we are hiding our world from them. I've always thought that the concealment laws were ridiculous and useless. When I was alive, I was a member of the Youths for Honesty and Trust between Our Worlds organization. That would be the main one."

Giles truly looked like he was considering just grabbing his wand and using the Cruciatus Curse on Spike right then and there. This revelation seemed to have annoyed him even more. "You were one of them?" he spat.
Spike had to resist the urge to take a step back. "Yes."
"Even so, I am the one in charge here. That means you not only answer to me but also obey a direct order."
"What? You still think like a Watcher," Spike said shaking his head in amused shock.
"That may be so-- oh, never mind. Just get out of here before I lose my temper and do something I'm going to regret tomorrow."

Spike didn't need to be told twice and bolted out the door. Giles might be playing on the side of good now, but he had once been known as the Ripper, a vicious and powerful dark Wizard. 'Come to think of it, his Ripper days were in the early years of Voldemort's assault on this world. Could he have been a Death-Eater, The Watcher? This is simply jumping to conclusions that may very well be the wrong ones. Some of that bleach must've seeped into your brain. He wouldn't have be--' Spike was jerked from his thoughts when he crashed into someone. "Watch where you're going," he snarled at the woman in front of him.
No, it wasn't a woman. It was a Veela; probably the one the Wiccans had seen earlier. He had to look up to look into her eyes - to look into her green eyes. Veela did not have green eyes. For that matter, no one but a Potter had that colour of green in his or her eyes. "Michelle? Michelle Potter?"
"Well, yes. Wait a minute... William Malfoy?"
"William Malfoy in the flesh, love. We went to Hogwarts together. I never expected to meet with you on friendly terms," he said, trying to hide a smile.
"Well, don't forget we ran into each other," she laughed.
"Literally ran into each other. What do you say to a drink at the only club in this town?"
"I say 'okay'."

Five minutes later, they were sitting at a table at the Bronze. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes, quite hungry actually. I haven't eaten anything since I left Britain. What do they serve here?"
"See for yourself at the bar," he said.
The two ordered quick snacks and walked back to their table. "What brings you to Sunnyhell?"
Michelle blinked. "Eh... Sunnydale. We call it Sunnyhell because the entire town was built on a Hellmouth," Spike explained.
"This is supposed to be confidential until I've spoken with the Minister, but I'll tell you: Albus asked me to alert Rupert Giles of the return of Lord Voldemort. He is supposed to accompany me to the Ministry in Los Angeles. You don't happen to know him, do you? I've been looking for him for the past three-and-a-half hours."
"What a coincidence. I spent that time trying to find out what kind of demon you were. The Watcher wants to keep everything of non-demonic origin kept under wraps. But... why can't you go to the Ministry alone? After we graduated from Hogwarts you joined the Order of the Phoenix."

"Yes, I did. That's exactly why I can't get custody of my young great-grandnephew, Harry. They keep telling me it's too dangerous. But you don't know his aunt and uncle. They treat him like a House-Elf-- eh... no offence, William. He lived in a cupboard under their stairs for ten bloody years!" tears shimmered in Michelle's eyes.
"I don't understand. They might be his closest living relatives, but you're his closest Wizard relative. Shouldn't custody of him be given to you by M.o.M. law?"
"It doesn't matter; in essence, I work for the secret service, even if I am technically a soldier and not an intelligence agent. I'm not allowed to have custody of any children not my own by that same law."
Spike smiled encouragingly. "Michelle, he's the child they think has defeated Voldemort. Those people will have to treat them better eventually. How old is he now, by the way?"
"Harry is turning fifteen the thirty-first. I just wish he could stay somewhere safe..."
"I have to agree. But how can anyone think of leaving someone whose life is being threatened by the biggest threat to thei-- our-- this world unprotected at a Muggle's house?"
"He's not unprotected, William. A retired agent lives down the street from him. And to answer your initial question: I have no idea. All I need to know is that I work for the Order and Albus is the Leader I must answer to. I trust him. He told me to get this Giles and so I will."

Spike laughed heartily. "It's actually nice to see you're still so practical and together. I used to really hate you for that, you know."
Michelle smiled. "From this confession I assume I can take it you're still as impulsive as you were at Hogwarts?"
"I'm worse now," he said with a smirk.
They both shared a laugh. "It's a real shame we never we never did this when we were both still at Hogwarts. And about good old Rupes, Michelle, I wouldn't go visit him right now if I were you..."
"Why not?" she asked confused.
"He's in a very bad and most likely very unstable mood at the moment. Go see him in the morning."
"I don't have a room for the night; so I'm afraid I can't."
"You could stay at my place, but there are a few things you should know: one, my family shot Cardia on May sixth 1880, and the day after that a vampire Seer called Drusilla found me. I was incredibly depressed, and I wanted nothing more than to die, so I let her bite me. However, instead of killing me, she turned me. Two, a little less than a year ago a branch of the American Muggle Government captured me, and shoved a chip up my brain. The damn thing electrocutes my brain if I try to hurt someone who is more than half human. I haven't really tried to get rid of it, don't ask why. Three, I live in a cemetery and in a crypt. I know I have enough Galleons in my personal vault to buy this entire town, but I still resort to tomb raiding. Four, at any given time a tiny blonde Slayer by the name of Buffy Summers might come storming in, very much unannounced."

Michelle seemed to consider the offer. She'd probably already heard of Sunnydale's reputation of strange and sudden disappearances from hotel rooms. "Alright. I'll come with you to your ... crypt. Why exactly do you live in a crypt, William? You could take over that Muggle software company... what's it called again?"
"Microsoft."
"Yes. You could take over Microsoft and you could still swim in gold."
"Maybe it's just that nasty impulsiveness of mine rearing its head again."
"Maybe it is. Let's go, William. This is on me, by the way."
Michelle walked up to the bartender and handed him three ten-dollar bills. "Keep the change," he heard her say.

As they walked to Spike's crypt, they chatted some more. "I was wondering - and this is just out of curiosity - how much do they pay you?"
"Well, I don't get a set amount of money per month, or year. I get paid by successfully completed missions."
"Really? How much?"
"It depends on the nature of the mission really, but it's usually about a hundred-thousand Galleons."
Spike stopped walking and stared at her. "A hundred-thousand Galleons?"
"Considering the risks I take and the sacrifices I'm forced to make, they should be paying me at least a million for every finished job," Michelle said vehemently.
Spike fell silent. Michelle was right. She had had to give up custody of her young nephew, who was now being mistreated by his guardians, for her work. She deserved at least some financial compensation for it. Though, one million Galleons? That wasn't compensation anymore.

"Wait. If Voldemort is indeed back; why hasn't the British Ministry done anything about it?"
Michelle bit her lip. "First of all because Cornelius Fudge is the worst Minister of Magic a country could possibly have; secondly because publicly announcing that the Wizard they fear the most is back would likely cause mass-hysteria... and lastly because he used Harry's blood and old dark magic to generate a new body for himself, and killed another Hogwarts boy. And because of that Harry was in shock when he told Albus and Fudge, which gives Fudge just enough room to dismiss Harry's statements as merely delusions caused by the trauma."
"I see. Your nephew seems to have been through a lot the past few months. How does he stay sane?"
"His friends keep him strong. That and the classic Potter thirst for life."
"You didn't get much of that," Spike pointed out.
"I am Veela. I flirt with death," Michelle said jokingly.
"Just with death?" Spike asked with a small grin playing around his lips.
"I'm afraid I can't flirt with men too much. My work is much too dangerous for something like that."

Spike smirked triumphantly. "See, that's where my job is better than your job."
"And what exactly is your job?"
"Helping the Slayer fight and kill the baddies."
Michelle snickered. "That's not funny," Spike protested.

Spike stopped at his crypt. "This is my 'house'," he said and opened the door.
Michelle raised an eyebrow questioningly when she saw only an old couch that had definitely seen better days, a TV-set and a mini-fridge. "I live on the lower level. It's just through that trapdoor," Spike explained, waving his hand.
A trapdoor appeared slowly. Spike opened it and jumped down onto the lower level of the crypt. Michelle climbed down the ladder and joined him. Upon seeing the sharp contrast between this interior and the one of the ground level, she raised another eyebrow. "You can take the boy out of the manor, but can you take the manor out of the boy?" Spike asked, shrugging apologetically.
"Apparently not," Michelle grinned.

"Thank you again for the offer. Goodnight."
"'Night."
They both got into the bed. "Mmm, nice bed. I'm exhausted. Do you know I haven't slept since two days ago?" Michelle remarked before she closed her eyes and got to sleep.
"I do now," Spike muttered, suppressing a yawn. "Lights out," he whispered, and the room became dark.

The dream Spike had that night was the nightmare he had had shortly after Cardia's murder - with a twist. This time, Cardia wasn't the only short blonde Slayer screaming at him. The present short and blonde Slayer, Buffy, was there as well.
Cardia was repeating her age-old accusations; and Buffy had joined in.

When he woke up the following morning, he felt the tears that had dried on his face, but strangely enough, he felt somewhat relieved, not broken as he usually did when he dreamt about Cardia. He felt something between rested, and not at all rested, as if there were two parts of him warring for the entire feeling. It was a strange sensation, and Spike decided not to think about it too much.
He looked at the person on the other side of the bed. His guest was still asleep, and it looked like she would stay like that for a good while longer. Spike himself wasn't entirely rested yet either, so he closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep.

---
"Will, Will!" Michelle sighed and gave up on trying to wake him by calling his name.
Instead, she tried to shake him out of his slumber. She still had to find this Giles character, and she only had a vague idea of what he looked like. She also didn't know where to find him yet. "Oh come on, Will, wake up!"
---

Spike opened his eyes and blinked. "What?" Spike asked groggily.
"I still need to find this Giles," Michelle said a little impatiently.
Spike sat up and gave her a look. "You said yourself yesterday that you hadn't slept for two days. You hardly ate anything last night - and that was just snacking - and you hadn't eaten since before you got on the plane. Get yourself freshened up and eat something first. Giles will still be there in an hour and a half. I'll take you to him then, all right?"
Michelle smiled a little embarrassedly. "Yeah, okay... I'm going to go take a shower now."
Spike smirked. "Let me guess, you haven't bathed since you left Britain?"
Michelle nodded and walked past the curtain to the bathroom.

Spike sat down and replayed the last day in his mind. Yesterday night he had nearly run into a short, sneaky man who had seemed to be staking out the Magic Box on his way to Giles' apartment. It was his turn to keep an eye on the shop - with its track record of being broken into, plundered, and having its owners murdered, one could never be too careful, and it was better not to take any risks. Even though Giles had been the owner of the Magic Box for four months already, and in those four months, nothing had happened; he and Anya still demanded that the shop be kept an eye on four times a night. Dawn was the only one who had successfully managed to get out of it; the rest of them had tried to do the same, but failed.

Nothing had happened except for the incident two weeks ago, when Harmony had come storming in completely hysterical, and so terrified that she accidentally sent two phials crashing to the floor - creating bunnies that in turn scared Anya so badly she nearly swept the cash desk off the counter. Harris had had to dump a bucket of ice-cold water over Harmony's head before she had calmed down enough to describe the creature that had scared her so much. Harmony said a huge snake had chased her through three cemeteries before she had managed to shake it, and that she saw a three-headed dog sitting on the roof of a crypt. From the nearby church, at least according to Harmony, the priests were calling for help.

Spike, Buffy, Willow, and Harmony had gone back to the cemetery, and had taken a look inside the church. There was no one there, only man-shaped burn-marks on the church floor. Harmony, who had calmed down and was taking a better look at the walls, suddenly said that all the crosses had been upturned. And when they looked up to see what she was talking about they saw she was right; all the crucifixes had somehow been turned upside down. The perpetrators had turned out to be people Dawn knew from school, who had used an impressive array of dark spells to summon all kinds of demons and creatures. They had been handed over to a Coven from LA, where they had been sentenced.

He'd told the ex-Watcher about the man, but Giles said that there was nothing to worry about. On his second round, the man was still there, and when he reported that to Giles, Buffy was sent to check out the situation. She'd threatened him with lasting mutilation if he didn't get the hell out of Sunnydale. The third and fourth time Spike had inspected the shop, the bloke hadn't returned. During the day, he'd watched television, had a talk with Dawn, and sent the brunette back to school.
Dawn's truancy appeared to be chronic, and nothing he, Joyce, Giles, Buffy, or anyone else said could make her change her ways. If someone caught her cutting class, they sent her back to school. The problem was that Dawn was ahead on every subject except mathematics. Dawn had passed over fourth and fifth grade and had missed some tricks for calculating - she had a knack for languages but she just couldn't employ it in mathematics. She did fine in physics and chemistry, but she needed to work on her math. However, Dawn wasn't used to working on things, or not understanding them, and despite being two or three years younger than most of her classmates, she had no trouble keeping up. But she did keep missing her tests.

Then, later that afternoon, Willow and Tara had spotted Michelle; he ran into her, and they talked. Spike thought about the man who had been near the shop. After what Michelle had told him about Voldemort's return, it was possible the little man had been a Death-Eater scout.

"William, I'm out of the shower, you can come in if you want," Michelle said from behind him. Spike started and jumped up. "You're unusually deep in thought," Michelle observed.
"It's nothing. I'll be in the shower for the next half-hour, and then I'll be gelling my hair back for another fifteen minutes," he said and picked up a shirt from the chair.
Michelle nodded and went back to trying to dry her waist-length hair. "You really should just let it curl. It looks cute," she said. Spike picked up his leather pants and said, "I'll stop combing the curls out of my hair if you cut your hair to shoulder-length," he dared. Michelle snorted. "Yeah, right. I am not going to dye my hair, I am not going to cut my hair off, I am not going to do anything with my hair," she huffed.
"I'm not leaving the curls," Spike said, disappearing behind the curtain and turning on the shower. "If you want breakfast, there is a cupboard next to the mini-fridge. There ought to be something healthy between the junk food and the candy," he yelled over the noise of the shower. He heard Michelle climb up the ladder and walk to the cupboard he'd told her about. "William," she said, loud enough for the inhabitants of Los Angeles to hear, "what do you eat?"
"Mostly I drink blood," he said, "but besides that a lot of useless junk."
"Yes, I noticed."

A small hour later, they were both sitting in front of the TV. Michelle was eating a slice of bread with tomato and salt. She'd found the bread and the tomatoes after wading through a mountain of high-calorie food; the salt had simply been standing on the fridge. "Are you sure that's still edible?" Spike asked half-concerned and half-joking.
"It's fine; but if I come down with severe food poisoning I demand a blood transfusion," Michelle mumbled. "And can you please change the channel?"
"No."

---
Buffy marched through the graves. Seeing Spike was always the last thing she wanted to do. Unfortunately, Spike had made Sunnydale his permanent home, and had somehow found himself a semi-spot into their group. So, instead of just having to see him once in a while, she was forced to not only be around him, but patrol with him twice a week.

All the couples (except for her and Riley - and if she wanted to she could stretch the truth a bit and count Spike and Harmony, but they weren't actually together and Harmony was only involved with them for protection and resources, not because she wanted to fight the good fight) patrolled together at least twice a week; Dawn snuck out at night to patrol on her own because nobody wanted to have to deal with her pranks in battle, and because their mother had officially forbidden her to go along on patrol if she didn't behave herself. Riley wanted his so-called freedom to maneuver without being outdone by his girlfriend - but Buffy knew that translated to wanting to have the freedom to spend time with his other girlfriend.

Buffy had accidentally found out when she thought she'd been tracking a vampire mobster to their hideout. Instead, it had turned out to be a vampiress small-time criminal, and wasn't heading for a mafia hideout, but to an old abandoned frat-house, on her way for a date with Buffy's boyfriend. She'd run away as fast as she could and cried herself to sleep that night. When she woke up the next day, she wasn't so sure it was real anymore. She'd hoped it was all just a bad dream, but patrol-duty with Spike that week had woken her from that particular dream.

Giles always stayed behind as the planner, because technically he was in charge and so could do whatever he wanted to do. Unfortunately, that left her and Spike as the last patrol team two nights a week. "Stupid vampire. I would - four letter word I'm not gonna say out loud - my - another four letter word I'm not gonna say out loud in this context - to see him being proven wrong just once," Buffy pouted.
---

The door of the crypt slammed open. "Spike, Giles told me to get you," Buffy said from the doorway.
"He said that if you didn't come with me I could threaten you with Mr. Pointy," she said, taking her trusty stake out of the pocket of her leather jacket. "So, really, don't come along willingly and let me have a little fun, okay?"

Spike crossed his arms: "Normally I would, Slayer, but I have a guest who needs to see Giles as well."
"A guest? Oh..."
"--Hi, I'm Michelle. I take it you're the tiny blonde Slayer by the name of Buffy Summers who at any given time might come storming in very much unannounced?"

Buffy stared at Spike indignantly and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you said that! Wait... your hair glows. You're the... whatever Wills saw yesterday."
"Eh... yeah, I suppose I would be the whatever your friends saw yesterday." Michelle turned to Spike. "I don't mean to be rude, but she looks exactly like..." Michelle trailed off, amazed at the resemblance between Buffy and Cardia.
"I know. It's amazing, isn't it?" he whispered.

Buffy tapped her foot against the crypt floor. "Hello? I need to take you to Giles and be all important Slayer-y."
"Is she always like this?"
"Most of the time, yes she is."

The trio walked through the tunnels directly under Sunnydale's streets. "Is it true that these tunnels run along the same pattern as the streets?" Michelle asked, confused by the complexity of the underground system.
"Sunnydale has two layers; one above ground and one below. These tunnels run parallel to the streets and every building has a basement that is connected to the tunnels," Spike explained.

"But that leaves the city and its inhabitants vulnerable to attacks from... all sorts of things," Michelle said. She was amazed by the way Sunnydale was built and run. It was completely against what they had taught her when she was still training to be an agent for the Order.
"That was sorta the idea the Mayor had when he built it, yeah," Buffy said. The small blonde took a right turn and counted doors. At the fourth one she stopped. "Here we are," she said and unlocked the door.
"We found out about the tunnels years ago and we put locks on the doors leading to our houses and to the Magic Box," Buffy said when she opened the door.

Spike and Michelle followed Buffy up the stairs out of the basement, and into Giles' office. Giles was already there, waiting, and Dawn was in there as well. The younger Summers had been threatened with grounding if she didn't study for her exams. "What is she doing here?" Giles demanded when he saw Michelle.
"There's something I must speak with you about, urgently."
"I'm going to have a little talk with Spike here first," Giles said.
Michelle frowned. "I'm an agent for the Order of the Phoenix. Albus Dumbledore told me to contact you and to go with you to the Ministry of Magic."
"Fine," he turned to Spike, "you and I will talk later."
Giles and Michelle walked out the door and got into Giles' car.

"Why is he so mad at you? What did you do?" Buffy asked with a grin.
Having fun at the other's expense was what they did best, after all. "I got you all out of a boring research-night by telling you the truth."
"Huh?"
"It's a long story and normally I would have no problem at all telling you, but I'm rather fond of my head."
"I'm not. So spill."

~~~
Giles pulled into the street of the Hyperion hotel. "I'm going to pick up someone else to go with us," Giles explained to Michelle, who was sitting in the car looking truly bored. Michelle watched Giles disappear through the door and sighed. It had seemed such a simple mission when Albus gave it to her; alert the Ministers of Magic in countries you think will accept the return of Voldemort, go to the United States first and take Rupert Giles with you - he should be in a town called Sunnydale, which is north of Los Angeles. It has its own international airport.

Michelle laid her head against the headrest and sighed. It was bad enough she had had to come to the States, but to see a fellow compatriot act like one of those Yanks was almost too much. Stress and jet lag certainly weren't helping, either.
Giles appeared in the doorway, followed by another man. "We're taking my car," he said. Michelle shrugged and lithely got out of the car. She was beginning to regret listening to Albus this time. Had she been on her own, she could have handled this much faster. "I don't care whose car we're taking so long as it gets us to the Ministry," she snapped.

She'd gotten to their side of the road and was nearly at the door. When she got a good look at the face of the other man, she stared. "Your hair grows against every force of nature," she said blankly.
The man with the anti-gravity hair rolled his eyes. "I'm Angel."
Michelle sighed again but decided not to comment, because it seemed like they were finally going somewhere, both literally and figuratively.

---
"I hope you're a better driver than Lorne is," Angel grumbled from underneath the covers, "I might not be alive but I really, really like having a body."
"I take it that I'm a better driver than this Lorne fellow then," Giles said.
"Maybe the Veela-girl should drive," Angel muttered.

"My name is Michelle and I'm one of those people whose vocabulary lacks words like 'speed-limit'; 'traffic-light'; and 'brakes'," Michelle threw over her shoulder.
"Not another one?" Angel asked horrified.

He hated having to depend on others to drive him during the day; especially since in his case 'others' consisted of a demon from an alien dimension who couldn't drive a car correctly if his life depended on it, a guy who had grown up fighting vampires and driving straight through lines of people, an ex-Watcher who didn't seem to be aware of the existence of brakes, and a Sunnydalean actress who seemed to have learned how to drive from none other than Spike himself. Maybe it was time to get a van with those special windows so he could drive during the day.
---

The car pulled into the Ministry parking lot, and Giles parked the car in the first available spot. Angel sat up and peeked over the side of the car. "Hello? Highly flammable vampire here?"
Giles sighed and restarted the engine. He stopped just beneath a balcony, so Angel would be in the shade. Angel threw the covers off and jumped out of the car. Michelle got out as well. Giles turned and re-parked the car in its original spot.

Giles returned and gave Angel his keys back. He and Michelle entered the building. Angel followed a few feet behind, with his arms folded. He was complaining constantly, and Michelle was trying very hard to keep herself from throwing a fireball at him. Instead, she walked to the reception desk to request a meeting with the Minister of Magic.

"Well, Miss, we don't often allow meetings with our Minister without an appointment made at least a week in advance," the receptionist said. The boy hadn't even looked up and was mindlessly reciting Ministry protocols.
Blindly following rules was something Michelle hated - she believed that an order should be rethought at least twice, and then reconsidered again. "Look, boy, I'm not in the mood for this. I'm an agent for the Order."
"Which one?"
"The Order of the Phoenix of course, you wanker!" Michelle yelled, quickly losing her patience.
"I'm going to need some proof."
"I'd show you, but I can't show you anything if you don't look at me."

The boy finally looked up. Michelle searched her coat and fished out a special kind of wallet with a phoenix on it. "That could be false."
Michelle took a deep, but not exactly calming breath, and flipped open the wallet. A silver badge with a phoenix surrounded by flames was revealed. 'European League of Intelligence', it said over the phoenix' head. "That still doesn't say anything."
Michelle rolled her eyes and lifted the phoenix. "Michelle Georgina Potter; born July seventh 1856; Wizard; Division of Battle and Information. Yes, that seems to be all right. It's the second stair from here. Get off on the fifth floor."
Michelle flipped her wallet shut and shoved it back into her pocket. She stomped down the hall and stopped at the foot of the second stairs. "Please do show your badge to me so that I may shout it out for everyone to hear and put your life in potential danger," she muttered under her breath.

Giles and Angel joined her, and the three of them stood on the bottom step. The stairway turned twice, and then twisted up. It stopped at the third floor, where a young woman got on, and then stopped again at the fifth. Giles, Angel, and Michelle stepped into the hall and looked around. Michelle glanced at a sign. "'Fifth floor: Minister of Magic's offices'... how does that help? Oh, wait. There's something scribbled beneath it. 'If you're looking for Ben, it's the last door down the hall with the purple door'."

Michelle looked to her right. There was a purple door. "I know where we have to go, come on."
Giles opened the door. "There must be at least fifteen rooms. What does the Ministry keep here?"
Angel folded his arms again but followed Giles and Michelle. Giles hadn't added that Michelle was an agent for the Order when he had come storming in saying that Angel had to come with him to the Ministry.

Michelle stopped at the last door in the hallway. There were two plaques on it. The first read 'Ben Flame -- Minister of Magic'; the second: 'Donnovan Flame -- Minister of Magical Justice'. There was something carved into the door: 'Yes, Donnovan is written with a double n; and yes, I'm here too'.

Angel had to hide a snicker behind a cough, but he couldn't fool Giles. "Glad to see you're finally over behaving like a child."
"Yeah, yeah," Angel waved him away.
Michelle rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Cooome on iiin."

"Which one of us were you looking for?" The dark blond Flame said.
"Eh..." Michelle hesitated; the two looked so much alike that Michelle couldn't tell them apart.
"Magic," the dark blond one asked, indicating himself, "or Magical Justice?" he continued, indicating his slightly lighter haired brother.

"I was supposed to speak with the Minister of Magic, but this concerns the Ministry of Magical Justice as well."
Donnovan Flame (at least Michelle thought that the slightly lighter haired man was Donnovan Flame) moved his chair behind his brother's desk.
"Shoot."
"Eight days ago Lord Voldemort regained material form, using Harry's blood."
"Using Harry Potter's blood?"
"Yes."

"So he is back. He was never gone, just disembodied..."
"It's not as if we don't believe you - we've had this annoying hunch that he had returned for this past week - but I'm afraid we're going to need actual evidence if we want to do anything about it."
"But Minister Fudge won't acknowledge his return, and Harry was the only witness who lived to tell."

"Wait just a minute, we'll continue this later. Can you tell us who you are first?"
"Oh yeah... I'm Michelle Potter, Harry's great-grandaunt and a member of the Order."
"I am Rupert Giles."
"Ange--" Giles elbowed Angel in the ribs, "Liam Angelum," Angel finished moodily.

"Right, then. If Voldemort has a body again, is it the same one he had before he was defeated?"
"I believe so."
"Miss Potter, we'll see what we can do. But I'm afraid we're powerless until the Dark Mark hovers above our homes again."
Michelle sighed. "I understand. I hope that there are other ways to warn the people. Have a good day."

---
"I'm not coming with you," Michelle said outside, "I'm going to go to Denmark. Give William my goodbyes."
Angel shook his head and waited for Giles to bring his car to the shaded areas beneath the Ministry balconies. "You're coming back to Sunnydale with me."

"Why?"
"Because if the Ministry can't do anything about this, we'll have to think of something ourselves."
Angel thought about that. Giles was partially right of course - something had to be done; but there wasn't a lot they could do. And wasn't he supposed to have a say in his own life?

"We'll drive past the hotel so you can pack for three days and can make a plausible excuse to your Muggles."
Angel blinked. He didn't know Giles was still so old-fashioned in his thinking. "Fine. Let's go," Angel said, hiding beneath the covers. Somehow telling Giles that his behavior had already been considered old-fashioned when he had been young didn't seem to be a very good idea.

Angel got out of his car and raced into the hotel. He told Cordelia, Gunn and Lorne that he was needed in Sunnydale for a reason he didn't yet fully understand (yes, it had something to do with Giles but he wasn't sure what exactly). Cordelia saw right through him, so he ran up the stairs to pack to avoid having to answer her.

He wasn't even sure why Giles needed him to pack. If Giles was so set on doing something about Voldemort, he wasn't going to have much time to sleep or change his clothes in the first place. He grabbed three sets of clothing, and threw them into a weapon bag. He hoped they fitted together, even if he was certain he wouldn't need them.

He quickly got down the stairs and was nearly 'safely' outside when Cordelia appeared. "Where are you really going?" she demanded.
Angel sighed and looked her in the eyes. "I'm going to Sunnydale, but that's all I can tell you," he said and threw the heavy covers over himself.
"Angel!"
He ignored her and got into the car. "Angel!" He hated lying to Cordelia.
~~~

"Spike, get into my office immediately."
Spike crossed his arms and stayed at the table. "No, Bit, that's not it. Look closer, it--"
"I'm going to ram this pen through your hand if you're gonna tell me that math is just something you have to see," Dawn threatened and raised her pen.

Spike hastily took his hands of the table and thought of something else to say. "You're doing fine, but look at your answer again. There's a m--" Spike couldn't finish his sentence because Giles had yanked him out of his chair and into his office.
"Hey! He's helping me. Return the vampire," Dawn said to the door behind which Giles and her current math tutor had disappeared.

"We still have a conversation to finish."
Spike leaned against Giles' desk and crossed his arms. "No we don't."
"Yes, we do."

"I will not have this conversation, nor will I admit I was wrong because I wasn't. And it might do you some good to know that Veela - even if they're old classmates of mine - do not fall under M.o.M. jurisdiction."
"They do when they're agents for the Order."
"I don't have anything else to say to you," Spike said and walked out the door.

"Have you found your mistake yet?" he asked and sat down next to her again.
"Yeah... I can't believe you didn't tell me," Dawn said embarrassed.
Spike shrugged. "I was going to subtly hint at it, but you threatened to put a pen through my hand."
"I thought you were going to say I wasn't seeing the math," she apologized.

"Spike, get back here," Giles said from his office.
"Jawohl, Herr Giles!"
Buffy gave him a death stare, "that is not funny."
"It wasn't meant to be funny, Slayer."
"I'm so sorry, Vampire."

"You think you're so funny, don't you?" Spike said. He had heard that particular line about three times the past week and frankly, it was getting old.
"And you don't?"
"Think you're funny? No, in fact this entire group desperately needs a sense of humour."
"Bite me."
"Gladly."
---

Angel walked in the door to see Buffy and Spike fighting. "You're like siblings," he said shaking his head.
"Thank you, Uncle Angel," Buffy muttered.
Everyone in the room stared at her. "What? Can't I be annoyed about being lectured?" she said and got back to the book she was reading.

"Well this is certainly a lively group," Angel muttered.
Dawn glared at him but went back to studying for the math test that would decide her passing or failing the grade. Buffy didn't look up from her book, and Spike was sitting at the table with his arms folded and a stubborn look on his face. Anya was at the counter doing a quick check of the day's sales. The others weren't in his line of sight. "Spike, we need to talk to you."

Spike shook his head. "No. I'm not going to discuss that with you, either."
"How did he know what we were talking about?" Angel asked confused.
"He probably doesn't," Giles said.
---

Spike stared at them, and left. It was no use trying to do something to keep Voldemort away from California, not with a total of three people anyway.

Spike walked into the Bronze and ordered a beer. He understood that Giles and Angel were worried about Voldemort. He knew they thought he was just being his irrational (and, according to them, a little stupid) self when he said that he wasn't.
But he could hardly tell them that he was more than half Elverin; or that he was a Malfoy. Giles was a Watcher - whether he was employed by the Council or not - and it wasn't exactly a secret that the Council of Watchers and the Malfoy family hadn't been the best of friends for the past 2068 years.
Ever since Rhanasme Malfoy had been chosen and was the first Slayer ever to break with the Council, the Malfoys had tried to bring them down.

However, the Council had been around for fifteen thousand years - since the third Slayer had been called. Although, back then it had been more of a support group for the girl who had been forced to dedicate her life to exterminating a species created by an unfortunate turn of events.
The origin of vampires lay with the departure of the demons, when the last demon left in this dimension turned out to be a very hungry d'Ésmergh.

The d'Ésmergh had grabbed a soldier who was standing near the portal, and had started to drain him of his blood. The boy had tried to get away, and had wounded the demon so much it bled, thereby mixing their blood.
A demon had returned from the portal, had helped to pull the d'Ésmergh off the young soldier, and had wrestled it into the rapidly closing portal.

When the portal had closed off completely, the doctors present ran over to check on the young boy and to see if he could somehow be saved. His condition seemed stable, which gave everyone hope. But there were three factors no one had calculated into the equation.
There was the Elverin ability to stay alive even when one was mortally wounded; the binding powers of Elverin blood; and the unknown properties of d'Ésmergh blood.

During the night, the boy rose from his bed and drank the blood of the doctors who were trying to save his life. He had been half human, one-fourth Tiames, and one-fourth Elverin. He had the blood of a d'Ésmergh flowing through his veins. No scientist or magicologist - magical sentient or demon - had ever come close enough to a d'Ésmergh to examine its blood, and so little was known about them. Actually, at that time it came down to knowing they fed on blood, that they healed very fast and that they seemed dead because they had a very faint heartbeat - and that they were cold-blooded.

The new hybrid carried the blood of demons, magical sentients, and the ordinary species. The binding blood of the Elverin race had fused together the abilities of humans, Elverin, Tiames, and d'Ésmergh. He had nearly died from his wounds, and thus had no measurable heartbeat. Like a d'Ésmergh, he did not need oxygen; he was a fast healer, drank blood, could survive for long periods of time without food, and was barely even a rational creature. From his human half he kept the body, but a strange turn of events gave him a second face: a cross between the animalistic features of the d'Ésmergh and the face of humans. The nastiest vampire power, however, came from the Elverin: he could bite others and make them drink his own blood, and thus spread the epidemic of vampirism. The extraordinary strength came from his Tiames side; he was in a drugged state, and Tiames gain a substantial burst of physical power when they are drugged. In that state, they are far stronger than a Pyros running on pure adrenaline.

To balance out this powerful creature, the leaders of the magical sentient races decided to enhance its weaknesses. From then on, being in the sun burnt him, so he hunted at night. He was easily set on fire, despite Tiames fire tolerance, and he was burnt by blessed water. But the simplest means of defense - and at the same time, attack, was the cross. It was a variation on the four pointed star symbol used by the Elverin, Atlanteani and the Maresear. Not only did it burn him, it could also be used to stake the vampire. Like d'Ésmergh, he would crumble to dust when he was killed. But this wasn't enough, and more and more vampires were created - until nine months later, a female soldier received the same kind of physical power the vampire had.

The Powers That Be had created another line of unusual creatures - the Vampire Slayers. But they made the mistake of choosing the vampire's once-fiancée, and the girl refused to go after the source of vampirism. Two years later, she died in a traffic accident, and the first vampire died shortly after. The Slayer powers had had to go to another soldier. When the second Slayer died, a group of mostly humans came to visit the third Chosen One to offer her support - both in combat, and emotionally.

It took only two hundred years for the Support Council to corrupt into the Council of Watchers, and its members from people who wanted to help the Slayer into people who wanted to control her. Two thousand years ago, Rhanasme Malfoy had been called, the first Slayer in ten thousand years to have magical sentient blood.

Rhanasme was a phenomenal Slayer, but never worked with the Council. What eventually did her in, after nine hundred and twenty years of Slaying, were her own stubbornness, and a virus. Rhanasme was the longest living Slayer in history, but she had also lived longer than everyone else who had the deadly and incurable disease, TELT.
Her daughter received the power through the same Elverin blood bind that had created vampires, and since then every Malfoy had had the powers of a Slayer. Not that Rhanasme's long life had left the Council without a Slayer for nearly a thousand years; Rhanasme had gotten herself nearly killed on a holiday with her older sister when she had just been called.

It was strange. The Council had changed very quickly, and was now rooted deeply into every organization on the planet. For the past eleven hundred years, Spike's family had tried to stop the Council. However, should they actually succeed one day, they would also bring almost total chaos to this world. The Council, after all, predated all human organizations.

Spike looked up. Buffy and Harris were standing in the crowd. They were probably looking for him, so Spike got up and walked towards them. "Slayer, Harris, go tell the Watcher I'm not going to talk to him and Angel, and that they don't have to try. I'm going to go home," he said and left.

---
"What was that?" Xander asked Buffy after Spike had disappeared into the crowd.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know, but he's being more... eh... what's the word?"
"Weird?" Xander suggested, looking around to see if he could spot Spike's bleached head anywhere near him.
"Not really, but it's good enough. He's being weirder than he normally is."
Buffy and Xander left the club, and returned to the Magic Box to tell Giles what had happened. Giles was also far bossier than he had ever been.
~~~

Spike woke from another dream about his old love and his current... - and Buffy. The resemblance between the two was so perfect it was frightening. Buffy and Cardia were more alike than Cardia and Psyche, who had been identical twins. Spike shook his head to keep his thoughts off the subject of Cardia Granger. He thought he heard something tapping against a window on the ground level of the crypt. "You complete idiot," he told himself, "that would be an owl that probably has a message for you."

Spike quickly climbed to the higher level of his crypt, and hastily opened the window. The owl flew in and stood on the television. Spike untied the letter it carried and unrolled the parchment envelope. The Hogwarts crest and its ridiculous motto stared back at him. 'Why would anyone make the motto of a school 'never tickle a sleeping dragon'?' he thought. Ever since he had been a first year, and had seen the words, he had been convinced that the Founders had been drunk when they had come up with the motto. Spike opened the envelope and took out the letter.

Dear mister William Malfoy,

Due to certain circumstances, the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher has once again become available. I thought that this position would suit you. Judging by your old school-records, you oughtn't to have any trouble handling teaching. I, like Albus, make a habit out of not lying to anyone, so I will tell you what happened to the last teacher I hired. Last year I thought that Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody had agreed to come teach Defence for a year - and he had - but the wizard who had come to Hogwarts and actually taught our students turned out to be Bartemius Crouch Junior. He also turned out to be a servant of Voldemort. In fact, the Dark Lord had carefully planned the entire year. Should you decide that you would take the position, I would advise you to be extremely cautious and to come to the Hogwarts castle as soon as you can. That would be a better idea for both you and Hogwarts. Whatever your choice might be, please send the owl back with a reply.

Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

Spike thought about it. Hogwarts was one of the best schools of magic in the world, and nearly every teacher had a master title. On the other hand, it was half a planet away from this town. He found that he was fond of this small town big city despite its many... eccentricities. Of course, it was also possible that he liked Sunnydale so much not despite, but because of them. Still, no one in their right mind would turn down a job offer from a school like Hogwarts, New Moon Bay, or Jagerstulp.

Spike returned to the lower level of his crypt to look for something to write on, and something to write with. After ten minutes of searching between clothes and weapons, he pulled out a nearly blank sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like a page from one of Dawn's notebooks, and a pen he had once stolen from Giles. He scribbled a reply:

Dear Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress,

I'm taking the job, but as William Montgomery. It's no use causing confusion. I'll come to Hogwarts as fast as I can.

William Montgomery.

Spike folded up the paper and tore the envelope open, then turned it around and folded it in the shape of an envelope again. He told the owl where it had to go, and shooed it out the window.

There was no shadow where he was standing at the moment, and Spike hoped that there was no one to see his hand not catching fire.

He returned to the lower level, and started to search for Dawn's History of Art notebook. Dawn only followed one subject faithfully, and that was Arts. Somehow she had to have lost her notebook when she'd come to visit him last Friday.
Spike triumphantly pulled out Dawn's peach-shaped History of Art notebook, and put it into the right pocket of his duster. From the same place, he fished out the three pages of notes Buffy had been looking for for the past two weeks. Spike put them in his pocket, next to Dawn's notebook. At least the things the Summers sisters owned could still coexist peacefully.

He sat down on his double waterbed and pulled open a drawer on his nightstand. A cellular phone, a notebook, and a pen looked back at him. "Clever," he said to himself and took out the cell-phone.
He pulled out the yellow pages from another drawer. He had a flight to book.

"Yes, tomorrow at 22.00. Yes, thank you," Spike said and put his telephone away. It was time to reunite the Summers sisters with their lost notes.

~~~
Anya leaned on the counter, and stared at the two Summers. For once, Dawn was actually worried about school. She was moaning over having to substitute her perfect notes with a book that hadn't been edited for a quarter of a century, and was making a big scene out of it. Buffy was claiming that her problem was far worse, and it was rapidly evolving into a by now classical Summers fight.

The last seven customers had been alternatively staring at the two of them, and at her. Once a man had actually offered to call the police to rid the Magic Box of 'those noisy, immature teenagers'. The man had failed to notice that she herself was nineteen as well. Anya herself was now becoming annoyed with the two, and decided to do something about them.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm going to get rid of those two. He," Anya grabbed Angel's arm and pulled him behind the counter, "is going to help you while I'm gone."
Anya silenced Angel with a look before he could even open his mouth, and walked away.

"Buffy, Dawn, not only is your behavior definitely upsetting the customers, it's driving me completely insane as well," Anya said. She folded her arms and stared at them.
"What?" Buffy asked without interest.
"If you would take the time to listen to me, you'd have heard 'what'. You're upsetting the customers and driving me insane," Anya said impatiently.
Both the Summers frowned and glared at her. "Are you calling us deaf?"
"No. I'm saying you're not listening. Now either go into Giles' office or the training room, or be quiet."
"Forget it," Buffy said stubbornly.
Anya told the two to stay where they were and went back to her counter. "I'll be shutting them up. In return you help the customers," she whispered to Angel.
Angel nodded.

"Come with me," Anya ordered Buffy and Dawn.
Annoyed, the two complied and stood up. "Where are we going anyway?"
"To the office, of course."

---
Spike saw the Magic Box coming up and quickly ducked inside of a store. He opened a door and snuck down the stairway to the basement, and the tunnel access. He'd prefer not to take the tunnels at all, but it really wouldn't do for those Scoobies to see him walking around on a cloudless day in broad daylight. They could ask questions he'd prefer not to answer, and he wasn't looking forward to another 'conversation' with a certain Watcher.
He told himself to stop complaining about a thirty-second walk and opened the door to the tunnels.

When he walked into the store, he found it Buffy- and Dawn-less. Anya herself wasn't even there. The only person in there he did know, was his hair-obsessed grandsire. He decided that having to hear Angel's rant about responsibility was better than looking for the Summers himself, and walked to the counter.

"Where are Buffy and Dawn? I've got some papers that they've been looking for," he said and took Dawn's notebook and Buffy's pages out of his pocket. Spike didn't notice the letter fluttering beneath the counter.
"They're in the office. They were freaking out over those pieces of paper you're holding, so Anya made them leave the store. Believe me when I say that you're doing us all a big favor by giving them back."

Spike thanked him and left, grateful to have been spared a lecture about his lack of responsibility. He opened the door to the office and stared at the two sulking girls. "Do these look familiar?"
Both girls immediately jumped up and almost tore the treasures out of his hands. "Where did you get this?" Buffy asked angrily.
"Well, Slayer, you know this lower level at my crypt where you've lost things before?"
Buffy blushed, remembering the long list of items she had forgotten there. Dawn also had a nice colour on her cheeks.

"I'm going to go now. I still don't want to speak to Giles."
"Spike?" Dawn called from behind him, "This isn't gonna make Giles happy, you know!"
"I know, Bit," he said and ducked back into the tunnel system.

~~~
Spike listened to Buffy's ranting about the horrors that were her life. Her constant complaining annoyed him to no end, but he wisely chose to keep quiet and took another drink of his blood. He used the 'kiss the librarian' mug that he had stolen from Giles. If he didn't speak up, she wouldn't become aggressive, and just leave when she herself became depressed.

This strange behaviour had begun around the same time Buffy and Dawn had become hostile as regarded each other. Buffy had come storming into the crypt, and had been ruder than usual. When he had called her on her behaviour, she'd punched him in the face.
As long as he kept quiet, no one would end up hurt. He still hoped, after over two months, that these 'therapy sessions', as he secretly called them, would help her instead of just depressing her further.

Five minutes later, he heard her voice change and the Slayer stormed outside. "Why can't you help yourself?" he asked the absent Slayer. "I'd help you if I could, but I wasn't exactly raised to be helpful."
Spike cringed at the obvious excuse, but he shook it off and started to think about his departure. He didn't trust Sunnydale's airport, so he had booked a flight at Los Angeles International airport. It was a three-hour drive to LA, but he knew that he could make it in two hours. That meant he had to leave at about seven that night to have enough time to find the actual airplane. Since it was five o'clock now, Spike decided that he had better start to pack.

Spike summoned all his books and piled them up into different categories. He was going to need a hundred suitcases this way. He sighed, but started to load the books into a trunk. He had never realized how many books he actually had; they didn't even fit into the thing. He made a motion with his left hand, and the books shrunk and formed a compartment in the trunk. Satisfied with their new size, he finished with the books, and started picking up his clothes from all across the room.

Spike threw the clothes into the trunk, and made them fold themselves. He then made a separate compartment for his clothing as well. He threw his hair gel, combs, and other such accessories on the pile of clothing and looked around. He still had his collection of very unhealthy products on the ground level, and decided to put those into a backpack later. Spike carefully collected all of his magical items and put them into the trunk with great care. With a wave of his hand, they were all wrapped in old newspapers. Spike hoped they weren't old papers, but Giles'.

He looked at the impressive amount of weapons that were haphazardly scattered about and realized that he needed to find a way to get those through customs without ruining them. But with the shrunk books and clothing, and the magical items he also had in there, he thought it would be better to charm the whole bloody thing into looking like an ordinary suitcase filled to the brim with clothing.
Spike grabbed his car keys off a table and ran to his car. Better to get the car now, and not have to bother with dragging his luggage to the parking lot at the cemetery gates. He could easily drive on the broad paths.

Spike summoned a bag, and stuffed his alcohol and sweets into it. He took the bags of blood out of the mini-fridge and carried them down the ladder. With the weapons packed as well, the trunk was full once more. He had room for the blood, but that was it. He looked at his furniture, and then back at the trunk. Unless he wanted to end up with furniture that fitted into a dollhouse, he would have to leave it all.

Spike undid the spell that gave him water and that made his bathroom. He didn't even have enough room for his sheets. He glanced at his watch. It was seven thirty already. Spike dragged the trunk up the ladder, grabbed the bag that was next to the mini-fridge, and stormed out the door. He threw the trunk and the bag into the car, and dived in. He slammed his foot down on the pedal and sped out onto the highway.

Spike slammed the door of his car, and waved his hand to lock the door. He had fifteen minutes to get himself on the plane, and he had been hoping to get there the legal way. He should have packed sooner. Spike flew down the corridors to pick up his ticket, and then, realizing he had thirty seconds to get on the plane from where he was now, teleported to his seat. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, and found it empty, except for the pack of cigarettes and his lighter. The letter must have fallen out when he took out the Summers' notes. He wondered what the Watcher was going to do when he found it. He put out his cigarette and closed his eyes.
~~~

Buffy walked into the crypt, looking for its resident not so owner. Giles wanted to talk to him again, and he seemed to have forgotten that Spike was -along with her--the number one stubborn individual on the planet. What Buffy failed to see was why it always had to be her who was sent to fetch him. Why couldn't Giles go himself? Or why didn't he send someone else, like Dawn or Willow, or someone else who got along with the vampire. She climbed down the ladder when she couldn't find him on the ground level. The lower level looked empty. There were no weapons lining the walls or just lying around; she couldn't find his bathroom, and there were no clothes to be found anywhere. Neither was the owner of those clothes, bathroom and weapons. Spike was gone.
~~~

Angel sighed when Anya once again left him to handle the customers so she and Xander could go for a pizza. He stared holes in their backs when they walked out the door, and sighed again. Death by Anya wasn't something he was looking forward to.

A plump woman came to the counter, and handed him two handfuls of crystals. Angel wondered what she was going to do with those, but scanned them all. "That's going to be $159, 95 please, ma'am," he said and put the two-dozen crystals in a bag.
The woman handed him two one hundred dollar bills, and Angel moved to hand the change to her, when something brushed against his leg. Startled, he dropped the four bills and the nickel. When he crouched down to grab the money from underneath the counter, he saw a little black body run away and a piece of parchment lying next to ten dollar and five cents. He grabbed the bills, the nickel and the parchment, and straightened up. He gave the woman her crystals and her change, and then read the parchment. His eyes widened, and he walked to Giles' office.

"I think you should read this," Angel said from the doorway.
"Read what?"
Angel threw him the piece of parchment. Giles caught it and read it. Dawn, who had been on her way to the Magic Box but was still on the other side of the block, could clearly make out the "What?" that was coming from the office.

"Spike is going where to teach what?" Giles exclaimed in shock.
"He's going to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Stranger things have happened at Hogwarts, you know that," Angel said.
"How can they even consider hiring him, let alone offer him a job?"
Angel shrugged, and wondered if this was a typical pureblood reaction or just something that was left over from his days as a Watcher. "Should I tell them?"
Angel thought about it. "It's your decision, but I think I'd tell them... You can either tell them now or have them find out later. I can guarantee that you're not going to like the 'later' option, because if I know Spike, he'll send each of them a letter explaining everything. And, just for fun he'll send along wizard photographs and probably the Daily Prophet."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes, I do."
Giles heaved a sigh. "Alright, I'll tell them. If what you're saying is true, I don't really have a choice."

---
"Everybody listen. Spike is gone; he's off to England to teach at a school called Hogwarts. There is a world besides yours, a magical world, which we call the Wizarding World. You are what we call Muggles, people without magic," Giles began.
"So what are Tara and I?" Willow interjected.
"You, Tara, and others with your powers are Empowered Wiccans. 'Empowered Wiccans', Wiccans who have been given their powers and gifts by the Earth, as opposed to simply 'Wiccans', who are followers of Wicca and rely on the power of will to work their magic. That means you have higher levels of magic than those who just practice the religion..." Giles droned on for fifteen more minutes and everyone felt their attention slipping.

"...Spike has been offered to teach at Hogwarts, one of the best schools of magic in the world. Naturally, he took that offer.
But he has forgotten to tell me, which is why I'm telling you now. This is a crime in our world, and Spike is going to find that out in a moment," Giles concluded his lecture.

---
Buffy was dizzy. Spike had left to teach at a school for wizards and witches? So Spike was a wizard then, and so was Angel. Giles had told them, so he must be a wizard as well. This was a bit too much shock for her. She realized something else: Giles and Angel had been lying to her for years. They hadn't told her the truth about this world, and it stung. It stung like when Giles had taken her powers for the Cruciamentum on her eighteenth birthday; like when Angel broke off their relationship and left for Los Angeles without a word. Could she even trust these people anymore? 'Spike would tell me to stop being a loser now,' she thought.

She looked around. Xander's jaw was inches away from the floor; Anya was sitting on a chair looking lost in thought, or maybe memories. Dawn looked the way Buffy felt, Riley was looking at Giles, and his face was showing no emotion whatsoever; Willow was deep in thought, and pondering what they had just been told. Tara was staring wide-eyed into space, Angel was just standing there observing everyone else, and Giles was looking furious.
Buffy felt light-headed and a bit sad. Why would I be upset over his leaving, she asked herself. 'It has to be confusion, with the disappointment of not having anyone to spill all my trouble to, and to kick his ass if he interrupts me.' But that particular train of thought seemed horribly wrong now that he was gone.
---

Dawn did her best to blink back tears. How could Spike just leave like that? It wasn't fair, she needed him. She needed him so much... he was the one who kept her in line, the one who made her see that what she was doing was wrong. Not that she always listened to him - but she didn't listen to anyone. Hormones, according to her principal, her mother and her teachers. Personality, according to her.
Dawn understood that he had been offered a job, that he wanted to teach, but she couldn't help herself. And there was something else: the man she thought of as a real father had been lying to her for long time... Well, he had been keeping something from her, but that was the same thing. Giles had just fallen off his pedestal, and was now not much better than her real father. She didn't care for laws - enjoyed breaking them, actually - and was not pleased that Giles didn't trust them enough to let them in on the 'big secret of stereotypical witchcraft being real'.
'This is too much of a shock right now, and that is not good. I have to pass five more exams, one of those deciding whether or not I pass the grade. Focus on that, Summers. His life isn't built around you and he has a right to go his own way. Keep that in mind and don't be too hard on him'.
---

Captain Peroxide was gone?Xander would have never thought that Spike of all people would just leave. He had made Sunnydale his home and had always been excited about the unpredictable fights and near apocalypses that occurred so frequently. 'And he's left to teach. To teach! I don't believe he is going to teach. This is making my head hurt. I can't believe this, and I really need an aspirin. Yesterday morning would be too late. This has to be more than a pure shock headache,' Xander thought. He closed his mouth, but the facts caught up with him again, and his mouth fell open.
---

'What kind of a name is 'Hogwarts'? I still can't believe that the other three agreed to call their school 'Hogwarts'. Helga came up with it, I remember that, but even Godric hated it. Salazar hated it, I hated it, and, hell, Rowena hated it. Although she can't have hated it that much, or the bitch would have manipulated everyone to get her way, like she always did.
That bitch, always so full of herself: "Hey, look, I'm Rowena Ravenclaw and I'm the best person in the world. You all are dumber than I am, and so you may drop down on your knees and worship the ground I walk upon. Everyone but Salazar that is, but that is because he's in love with me, and so must be on my level". I hate her. She's dead and I still hate her.

So Spike is going to teach at Hogwarts, is he? I'm sure he'll be a great teacher'.
Anya wanted to have sex with Xander to get her mind off the subject of her older sister. Anya needed to have sex with Xander to get her mind off the subject of her older sister.
---

Willow thought about it all. There was another kind of magic... it was performed with wands. 'I wonder how I would fare against a witch or wizard in a duel,' she thought. 'An Empowered Wiccan... I like the sound of the words, it sounds regal and important and powerful. I don't need a wand, but my powers are far from under control. Although I do know that I'm powerful. But it can't be good to think about my magic that way. If the term 'Wiccan' applies not only to my beliefs but also to my powers, I can't just use it for everything I want to do.
So Spike is going to teach at a school for youths who can use magic like that? I'll miss him, he was on my level, and I could really talk to him about things'.
---

Real witches and wizards with real wands. It was strange, but it shouldn't surprise her: what else had been shocking in her life? 'Nearly everything,' Tara thought to herself. She thought about it. Giles and Spike were wizards. Her mother had always told her that wizard was a meaningless word that belonged in fairy tales. So it wasn't just a word used by those who weren't familiar with the Craft, and from the fairy tales, but an actual name for actual people. The vampire who had been in Sunnydale the past three days was a wizard as well. Whatever she might have been telling herself about being able to handle the shock, it was a big lie. Tara just sat down on the floor.
---

'So, magic. It doesn't seem to be evil in general, but for members of the undead to have the powers?.Well, at least Hostile Seventeen is gone. And good to be rid of it, too. Not only is it a mindless animal, he has the wrong effect on these people. Befriending soulless beings and putting their lives in its hands. Animals, just animals. 'Riley Finn would not miss the vampire, and the fact that magic and wand-wielding witches and wizards were real? It didn't impress him the slightest bit. Why should it?

~~~
Spike looked at the timetables for the trains going to Hogsmeade on platform 9¾. Really, it just made perfect sense that he had missed the last train that day, and that the next one would be leaving at ten o'clock tomorrow. Annoyed, he walked to the Leaky Cauldron and booked a room for the night. He should have known that something like this would happen.

Ringing coming from his leather pants caught his attention. He picked up the cell phone and recognized his grandsire's number. "Angel?"
"No, this is Giles."
"Haven't I said enough times that I am not speaking to you?" he sighed.
"I don't really think that your opinion matters much. After all, my authority--"
"Were you ever a Death-Eater?"
"No. Where did you get that idea?"
"A Nazi in a past life?"
"Spike, listen to me."
"No, I won't listen to you. If you want me to listen, put Angel on the phone."
"Very well, then".
~~~

Giles sighed and handed the phone to Angel. "He says he'll only speak to you".
Angel took the phone and thought that if all purebloods thought like this, maybe it wasn't so bad being a halfblood. "Giles wants you to listen to him."
"I don't want to listen to him."
Angel sighed and tried again. "If we hadn't told them, would you have sent them anything about the existence of the Wizarding World?"
Angel could hear Spike snort. "Do you know me at all?" the blonde asked indignantly.
"He would have told them himself," Angel confirmed. "What are we supposed to tell the Ministry? Giles wants to know if it's 'This very immature and irresponsible vampire left without telling me, forcing me to tell the Muggles about our world?'" Angel said. Why did he have to be the one in the middle of this?
"That's how he feels it is, that's what he says. Be sure to add that if he hadn't, there would have been moving pictures coming their way."
"I don't believe you," Angel said and shook his head.
"That's because you're still having a problem with being half-Muggle," Spike said knowingly.
"Don't start about that," Angel warned. His parentage was something he did not want to discuss.
"Good night, Angel".
~~~

Spike disconnected with a smirk. Even from halfway across the globe, he could get on Angel's nerves. Although he had to admit that bringing up the one thing that actually hurt Angel was low. On the other hand, why did he care? But he had a train to catch, and needed to have an excuse for not answering any calls. Giles' bossiness was also increasingly annoying Spike; it wasn't just Malfoy-pride or being bossed around by a Watcher. It was mostly the fact that Giles was acting like a monarch or a dictator. 'Is there even a difference?' he wondered, amused.
~~~

"Everyone out. I have to talk to Angel in private."
Angel frowned, but he didn't say anything. It wouldn't help, anyway.
"But Giles..." Willow began.
"Come on, Will, let's go. It's obvious we're not wanted here," Buffy said, dragging her best friend out the door. The others followed suit.
After the last Scoobies had left, Giles turned to Angel, "Did you know he was a Malfoy?"
"No, I just knew he was a pureblood. Come to think of it, he always called himself wizard born."
"Wizard born, of course..." Giles muttered something else, but Angel couldn't make out any of the words.
"What exactly is wrong with him being a Malfoy?" Angel asked, and hoped that he had interpreted Giles' tone correctly.
"Everything. From powers, to behaviour, to looks."
'Okaaay...' Angel thought, 'this has to be a Council thing'. "But Spike isn't blond."
"You can't know that. But enough of that. Tonight or tomorrow, at best, there will be an enforcer coming this way. Do you want to join me in getting drunk?"
"Oh, gladly. But I have to call Cordelia first," he said.
"The telephone is on the counter. I'll go and get the alcohol."
Angel approached the telephone as though it would bite him. Well, maybe not the telephone itself, but the person on the other side definitely would. Maybe Gunn or Wesley would pick it up? 'Who are you trying to fool? It's gonna be Cordelia, so you might as well pick that up and be in less danger when you go back to LA'. "Hi, Cordy, it's Angel?"
"Where the hell are you? Does this so-called emergency take a week to fight? What were you thinking just leaving with a weak-ass excuse about Giles and Sunnydale? Are you even in Sunnydale right now? When are you coming home, Angel? When?" Angel had to hold the receiver away from his ear to hear what she was saying.
"Sunnydale, no; Giles made me do it; yes, tomorrow, and, tomorrow," he answered.
"Giles made you? Angel, that one's even lamer," she yelled.
"Look, Cordy, I'm sorry. I'll be back tomorrow night."
"Fine. You better be," Cordelia threatened.

Giles returned with several bottles, and sat down at the table. Angel shrugged and joined him. Giles opened the first bottle, and drank a quarter of it in one long gulp. Angel nearly fell off of his seat in surprise. Giles handed him the bottle and Angel drank some. He thought he heard Giles say something like 'weakling', but saw that he was finishing the bottle, fast, and couldn't have said anything. This seriously wasn't normal.
~~~

Anya opened the door angrily. The least Giles could have done was lock the damn thing. In Sunnydale, it was never safe to leave a door unlocked, especially not the door to the magic shop. "Giles? Oh, man."
"What is it, Ahn?" Xander asked from behind her. "Oh."
Giles was on the table, out cold. Angel was in the same condition; only he was lying on the floor. "I've always wanted to do this and no power on this earth is going to stop me from doing it," he said and grabbed two buckets. "Who's with me?"
Dawn raised her hand and together they went to the bathrooms behind the training room.

"Wakey, wakey!" the two grinned, and emptied the buckets over the heads of the souled vampire and the Watcher.
"I can't be day yet," Giles muttered.
"Oh, but it is," Dawn smirked.
Angel bolted upright and seemed to be out of breath. "You're a vampire, Dead-Boy, you don't breathe."
"I wasn't asking you, Harris," Angel said and shook his head.
He preferred a blinding headache to the images he had been seeing. "Ow..."

"I'd like to stay and see you with your headaches, but I have a History of Art exam to ace," Dawn said and left the shop.
"Did just Dawn say what I think she said or am I delusional?" Angel wondered out loud.
"Both".
~~~

Joyce Summers was sitting on her couch, with a cup of her famous cocoa. Whatever therapeutic effects it had on others, they didn't apply to her. She was too worried about her girls, and she wished she knew what to do with them. While they'd never been the best of friends, their recent behavior exceeded every past fight they had had. Not only because they had been at this since May, but also because they were at the verge of hurling things at each other. And while Joyce had thrown a few things at her brother and her friends when she was young, harmful intentions had never played any part in it.
The telephone was ringing, but Joyce didn't answer. If it was important the caller would leave a message.
"Missus Summers, are you there? This is Kris, if you're at home, could you pick up, please?"
Joyce sighed and picked up the phone, "Yes, Kristina, I'm here. What is it?"
"Well, before I can take my final examinations I have to do some assignments on my own, but also some under supervision from a professional enforcer, so--"
"Kristina, I'm retired," Joyce said sternly.
"Yes, I know that. But they actually said that I should ask you."
"Who said so? And for that matter, since when was supervision necessary?"
"The commissioner said so."
"You wouldn't be talking about my old friend Malus Fids, would you? Alright, I'll help you. Where are you now?"
"I'm at the charred remains of a building."
"Do you think you can find the house?"
"1630 Revello Drive, right?"
"Yes."
"I'll find it. I'll be in there in a few minutes. Do you still make your magic cocoa?"
"There'll be a nice mug with your name on it when you get here."
"Buffy did steal my mug!" Kristina shouted indignantly.
"Oh, you and Buffy can talk it out. Unless of course you, Buffy and Dawn end up at each others' throats for absolutely no reason," Joyce muttered.
"Alright, I'll be there soon."

Joyce opened the door to a smiling Kristina Raco. "You changed your hairdo," Joyce observed.
And indeed, Kristina now had shoulder length black hair with blue strands that stuck out in every direction. "It became too difficult to keep dyeing it that purple," Kristina shrugged.
"And far too expensive, I'd guess," Joyce remarked, and pulled Kristina into a tight embrace.
"Aunt Joyce, I have this habit of needing to breathe," Kristina said with a sparkle in her eyes.
"Did you get contacts? Your eyes are way too blue."
"They match my hair," Kristina protested weakly.
"Your real eye-color matches your hair. This makes you look like a vain movie-star," Joyce said, smiling.
Joyce led Kristina to the couch, and went to the kitchen to pour her some of her hot chocolate. "Here you are, Kristina."
"Thank you, Aunty Joyce."
"Just call me Joyce. You're almost twenty-four years old, after all."

Joyce stared at the purple van in front of her house. "Well, I see that thing is still purple."
"It was your children who helped me paint it."
"Just teasing you."
Joyce climbed into the van and slammed her door shut. "So, how does this thing drive?"
~~~

Angel and Giles were sitting at the table. Giles was insisting that they devise a strategy to avoid a fine, but all Angel was interested in was getting rid of his headache. "Angel, w--"
"Why can't we just say what Spike suggested?" Angel said and cast a longing look at the door to the training room.
"No one in their right mind would believe us," Giles said with a tone that allowed no arguing.
Angel decided on another strategy, "If you're not going to listen to me, why are you even asking me?"
When that didn't work either, Angel leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "For once I agree with Spike. We could just tell the damn truth," he muttered.

---
Anya was watching the two with interest. Was it so difficult just to say what you meant to say? Anya put more faith into the principle of freedom of speech than she did in her gods. Anything not to be like her sister, who was a master of deceit, and who had lied her way through her entire life. The only thing she was holding Spike responsible for was making her remember her sister. Being the sister of the 'great' Rowena wasn't something Anya was particularly proud of.
---

Kris opened the door, but saw Joyce hesitate. She could guess what was causing that hesitation, as they had already had this conversation on the way. Kris could respect the views of others, and she was training to be an agent of the law. "Are you coming?"
"Are Buffy and Dawn in there?"
Kris looked inside. "Yes, they are. Why are you asking?"
"Are they fighting?"
Kris looked closer. They were discussing something, but they weren't arguing. "They're just talking."
"Then I'm coming."

Kris looked around in wonder. There were more herbs here than in the average apothecary in Los Angeles, and it was full of Wiccan items she'd only heard of in school. She picked up a statue of Ceres and inspected it.
"No touching unless you're buying it, and that one I've promised to give to a friend," a brunette said from behind her.
"It's alright, Anya, she's with me. Is Mister Giles anywhere near here?"
"He's at the table going over things to tell--oh, that would be you, wouldn't it?"
---

Giles looked at the young woman standing between Anya and Joyce in annoyance. He hadn't yet come up with a plausible explanation for telling the Muggles, but maybe he could work with the fact that Joyce knew Spike.
"You know why we're here," Joyce said simply and folded her arms.
The Enforcer who was with Joyce tried to say something, but Joyce cut her off. "I don't really care if you've told the others. Anya is a witch herself, and so Xander can know. Willow and Tara are high-level EW's. But you told my daughters, and I had good reasons for not telling them."
"It's all Spike's fault, really," Giles said.
Joyce raised an eyebrow. "I would like to hear his side, then."
Giles sighed and took Angel's cell-phone off the table. "Call him. You'll find he's going to verify what I just said."
"Are any of you considering that I'm the one who isn't calling anyone, but still has to pay for trans-Atlantic calls here?" Angel interjected.
Giles decided it was better to ignore him.
---

Spike sighed, and took his cell-phone out of his pocket again. "Who is it now?"
"It's Joyce Summers. I've been told you're the reason my daughters know about the Wizarding World."
"If you're a witch, why weren't they told in the first place?" he asked irritably. Too many people were calling him about this.
"It's a promise I made to Hank when Buffy was born."
"Yes, I'm the cause of that. I was invited to teach at Hogwarts, and I would have sent each and every one of them - the Soldier Brat excluded, the girl who left for LA included - a letter with moving pictures and a nice description of the Wizarding World."
"Fine, but you're in luck, Spike. I like you, and all of them may know, technically, so there won't be any memory spell done on them."
"Can I talk to Dawn?"

"So totally not repeating the year, and definitely gonna pass math speaking."
"You're in a good mood," Spike said with a smile.
"I am. I know I got everything right on my History of Art exam. Thanks for finding my notes, by the way."
"You're welcome. I just wanted to know if things between you and Buffy have improved since I left."
"Still going steadily downhill."
Spike sighed and thought about it. The only solution he could see wasn't really a solution, only a buffer between the siblings. "You could stay with someone else over the summer. Maybe that will help to solve the problem, if only the tiniest bit."
"The pun is excused. I'll ask Mom and Anya."

Spike waited for Dawn to come back on the line. "Both Mom and Anya say it's fine. Buffy agreed as well, and that means you have to shut up about Xander."
"All right. But promise me that you two will try to work it all out," he said.
"We'll try, with a lot of emphasis on the 'trying'."
"Good luck, Little Bit."
The other teacher on her way back to the castle stared at him. "Having family problems?"
"It's not my family, but I'm close to them," he admitted.
"I hope they'll work it out."
"They will eventually, I'm just not certain how long that's going to take," he said.
---

Dawn was throwing clothes into a suitcase she'd found beneath the bedclothes. Anya was standing in the doorway holding a bag that contained the books and notes Dawn still needed for her exams. "Our apartment is a five minute drive and a seven minute walk away from your house. You don't have to bring the entire room," Anya said impatiently.
The suitcase was more than full anyway, so Dawn closed it. "Movie renting time then?"
Anya smiled. "Movie renting time. But also don't-sneak-out-of-the-house-tonight-and-study-for-that-exam time."
---

Spike walked through the Hogwarts gates, and stared at the magnificent castle. He'd last seen it over a century ago, but it was still on the list of the top ten most beautiful buildings he'd ever seen. Even from as relatively far away as he was, he could see the architectural wonders of its structure. It was a fine day, and he didn't mind the walk. Spike lit a cigarette, and looked around. Not much had changed since he'd been here last.
When he arrived at the castle itself, there was someone standing outside with a foul look on his face. "I take it you are the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
Spike blew the smoke into the man's face and answered. "Do they not teach you manners anymore?"
I'm far older than you are, Spike thought. "You're standing in my way. If you would let me through?"
The man stepped aside, and Spike entered the castle.