The Eighth Weasley

Notes: Wahey! Things are starting to really come together now! Oh happy day! And considering I already have ten chapters set after this one written, it goes without saying that I want to get further in this series now! (for the record, 27, 28 & 29 are still waiting to be written right now)

And I also believe that the chapter length is going to increase as I go - this chapter is about treble the usual length, simply because I was having too much fun. (And now, I cut it in half cos it was just too big - Gyah!)

I should apologise for the lack of posting this for the last week, but some real-life crisis came up and I had a lot to deal with, with them. So, I can’t really apologize when I had so much else to do. Alas, thus is the life of a fanfic writer :-/

And good sweet lordie almighty, I am SO getting lynched for what I’m about to do to some of our helpless characters. People are going to kill me. String me up by my guts and leave me dangling…

And I’m going to love every minute :D I’m seriously having far too much fun with this story for any complaints/flames/obscenities to ruin it!

NEW NOTE (18^th nov) – the storyline has been tidied up and arranged and, if all goes well, this series should end on chapter 75, or thereabouts. Only 45 more chapters. I only hope you guys can stick with me up till the bitter end! *fingers crossed* I hope you do! You guys make this all the more fun!

________________________________

"Buffy, there’s a man at the door for you?"

"Huh?"

"Buffy, down here, please."

Rubbing her eyes sleepily, the Slayer shuffled out of her bedroom, wondering why her mother’s voice had such a funny tone to it. After all, it was daylight, so it could hardly be anything of the demony variety.

They had the rude habit of breaking in at night without knocking.

It was barely eight o’clock on a Saturday morning and she had really been hoping for a little extra sleep, which explained why she was still in her baggy pyjamas, her hair sticking up all over the place.

Making her way down the staircase, she could hear her mother talking to someone in the living room, which suggested the man there to see her had been invited in, which made her groan.

Hadn’t her mother learned from the whole Spike and Angel business?

Okay, so the guy couldn’t be a vampire, judging by the sunlight streaming into the house from all sides, but still...

At the bottom of the stairs, she turned to the right to see her mother standing over the couch, talking to the man sitting upon in the direct sunlight and it was a man that she recognised, her eyes going wide.

Clad in vivid blue and scarlet robes, his long white beard and hair more than a give away, the end of his beard tucked into a wide, brown belt with a gold buckle. He was chatting quite amiably to her mother, his cheeks rosy and he reminded the Slayer a good deal of what Santa Clause was meant to be like.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

Twinkling blue eyes looked over at her. "Ah, Miss Summers," he started to rise in time to get grabbed in a hug by the Slayer, who almost lifted him off his feet. "Oh my, you are rather strong..."

"Oh! Sorry!"

Deposited back on the floor, he chuckled, adjusting his robes. "Not to worry, my dear," he said jovially, as he sat back down on the couch. "Joyce, dear lady, you mentioned something about a cup of tea?"

Smiling, Joyce nodded. "I’ll be back in a minute...Earl Grey is all right, isn’t it?"

"Perfect, dear lady."

Dropping down on the couch next to the old wizard, Buffy cocked her head at him curiously. "Why are you here, Professor Dumbledore?" she asked. "I mean, not that I’m not pleased to see you, but you...here?"

"There are three reasons, Miss Summers," he replied. "One part of it is that I wished to report on your sister’s progress. She has settled and appears to like the school, although she wanted me to inform you that no one believes you exist."

"Me? Senior Summers sister?"

"No," he chuckled. "You, the Slayer."

"Oh! Right! I’m a legend or something for the kids. That creepy Draco-guy didn’t believe in me, but most of the adults I met did."

"Precisely, Miss Summers, which leads me on to my second reason for visiting..."

"It does?"

Dumbledore shifted slightly to look at her directly, his blue eyes serious. "Have you ever considered teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts?"

"Huh?"

"You see," he sighed. "We have a member of staff who wishes to take...I suppose you could call it sabbatical leave. Only, we need to find a substitute for him until the end of this school year at least."

"And this guy teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Precisely."

"And you want...me to teach in his place?"

Dumbledore smiled. "If you would like to."

"Me? Teach? But how? I mean, not exactly big in the magic department..."

"Ah, yes, but you have something that few of our previous Defence Against The Dark Arts teachers have, Miss Summers," the Head Master murmured. "You have the experience in the field. You fight the dark creatures on a daily basis."

"But not the kind of things that your people deal with...I dated a vampire and I have friends that are werewolves and ex-demons...I’m not sure that’s a good impression to give the kids at school."

"On the contrary, Miss Summers," he smiled again. "I believe it is exactly what the pupils need to make them understand that there are shades of grey in all areas. After all, not all werewolves and demons are bad, which you have shown by your associations with your friends. This is why I believe you would be an ideal candidate for the position. You may be able to quash a little of the prejudice."

"But I can’t teach! I wouldn’t know how!"

"Wouldn’t know how to what, honey?" Joyce Summers re-entered the room, with a tray with cups of tea and a plate of home-baked cookies on it.

"Professor Dumbledore wants me to go and teach at Hogwarts, mom," Buffy replied.

Joyce, sitting down on the opposite side of the low coffee table in front of the couch, looked from the old wizard to her mussed-looking daughter. "I think that would be a wonderful idea, Buffy," she said, smiling. "How often do you get the chance to work at a real magic school?"

"But I don’t know magic," Buffy protested adamantly. "How am I meant to teach the kids how to defend themselves by magic, if I can’t do any magic."

Dumbledore gave her a knowing smile. "I do believe I have a solution for that little problem," he said. "If I manage to convince you, will you agree to it?"

"Honey, it would make me feel a lot better to know that you were there to look out for Dawn, in case that Glory-person finds out where she is," Joyce put in, giving her daughter a meaningful look. "And it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"I-I don’t know...I mean, Slayer...sacred duty..."

"But, be honest, Miss Summers, have you really had so much to do, since the closure of the Initiative? After all, the majority of the demon population were killed in the fray and the only person to really cause you any problems of late has been Glory."

Buffy pulled a face at him. "You have this all worked out, don’t you? You’re not going to let me say no..."

"Alas," he chuckled. "It appears that you understand how my mind works."

The Slayer ran a hand through her sleep-tangled hair. "All right," she sighed. "You convince me that I would be able to do a decent job as this Defencey person and I might considering coming with you...and that’s a definite ‘might’."

"If it helps you to make up your mind, Miss Summers, your sister and friend are looking forward to seeing you."

"And I really have no choice in this, do I?"

Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "Of course you have a choice, Miss Summers, although, if you do say no, I will be forced to stay here and irritate you until you do agree."

"You’re mean," she muttered, faking a scowl.

"I know," he chuckled. "But don’t let word out. It is always awfully amusing to see people’s faces when they realise that."

***

"Omigod!"

"Professor, you really are quite clever, despite what I’ve heard people say," Rupert Giles couldn’t help laughing, as Dumbledore primly smiled at him and folded his hands in his lap.

"But Buff...leaving Sunnydale..." Xander’s face creased. "C’mon, Buffy, what about the loyal scoobies here?"

The group was seated in the living room of the Summers house, Giles, Anya and Dumbledore on the couch, Buffy perched on the arm beside Giles. Xander was sitting on the edge of the fireplace, while Joyce and Spike occupied the two last chairs.

"That is also a subject I meant to raise with you," the old wizard said. His eyes were twinkling again. "As I am the Head Master and no one can tell me what to do, I wished to extend an invitation to you all, if you wish to join us."

"Bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed. "You want our whole merry band to tag along with you? Are you completely barking?"

"So I have been told on several occasions," Dumbledore smiled. The vampire shook his head, chuckling. "However, my reasoning is actually serious. If this Hell Goddess does descend on Hogwarts, we will need the experts at battling the Dark Side and there are few people more experienced than all of you."

"I'm in."

Buffy and Giles both looked at Spike in surprise. "You?"

The vampire shrugged. "The old wiz here's all right and I wouldn't mind being around to make sure that the Niblet is being looked after right. Kids like a sister to me, y'know," He gave Dumbledore one of his rare, genuine smiles. "You got room for a vampire somewhere in your ruddy great castle?"

"Of course, William," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I have the ideal room for you."

"So who else is coming then? Joyce, pet?" Spike turned blue eyes towards the oldest of the Summers women. He jutted out his lower lip, when she shook her head, trying not to smile at him. "Oh, c'mon, pet! What am I gonna do without you there to make me hot chocolate and put the little marshmallows on it?"

"I'm sure you'll cope, Spike," she replied, reaching across to pat his hand. "But I can't afford to leave the gallery again. I mean, with my being ill, I have really got a lot of work to keep up with, if we're going to keep this house."

"You're not coming, mom?"

Joyce shook her head. "I can't, Buffy. And you know I'm not comfortable with the whole...magic thing, especially after that..." she trailed off, after glancing at Giles, both of them going bright red. Buffy looked from one to the other and snickered. "But you...you can tell Dawn that I'm missing her and when this Glory-business is over, the house'll be waiting for her when she comes back."

"Are-are-are you sure, Joyce?"

"I’m positive," she said. "I trust all of you to take care of my baby for me."

"But mom, what if Glory comes here...?"

"Honey," Joyce sighed with the patience that only a mother can have. "You’re the Slayer. She believes you have the Key. If you’re not here, she isn’t going to come here, is she?"

"But if she does...?"

Spike grinned. "She’ll offer hot chocolate with the little marshmallows and give this Glory-bird advice on her love life."

"Oh no, Spike," Joyce smiled. "That’s just for you."

"We’re coming too!"

"Anya..."

Anya gave her boyfriend a glare. "Okay, I’m coming. If Xander wants to stay here, he can."

The dark-haired youth sighed. "Okay, okay, I guess I’m coming along as well..." He gave Buffy a tired smile. "And it would be kinda neat to see Wills and the Dawn-monster again..."

"I believe Miss Weasley may be in need of your comfort as well," the Head Master said quietly. "Daniel Osbourne has left indefinitely for Tibet. Miss Weasley has not been handling his departure well. That was my third reason for coming."

Xander’s face paled, then an expression of determination crossed his features, his hands clenching into fists on his knees. "Why didn’t you say about that before?" he demanded. "I have to be there for my Wills."

"Atta boy, Xander," Buffy smiled, then looked at Dumbledore. "She is okay, isn’t she? I mean, she hasn’t done anything crazy..."

"I left her in the care of Professor Granger and your sister, Miss Summers, so I do believe she is in the most capable hands at the moment," he answered. "Although I do assume this means you will be coming to join us as soon as is possible?"

"Yeah!" Buffy nodded emphatically.

Dumbledore looked around at the little group, smiling serenely to himself. Hogwarts had gotten wildly interesting with the addition of the eighth Weasley and the Key, in the last two months.

Now, that he was adding a Slayer, a Watcher, a Vampire, a muggle and an ex-demon to the mix...

He only hoped that the other members of staff wouldn’t kill him.

***

Two days had passed since Dumbledore had visited America and he still hadn’t gotten around to mentioning to the full staff body that their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was on her way, travelling over the weekend.

All right, he had told everyone except Severus, because he really didn’t want to have to face the expression on the Potions Master’s face.

Snape wanted the position.

Desperately so.

Dumbledore understood why: Severus longed to make amends for the crimes he had committed as a Death Eater and the only way he could see himself doing that was by teaching their pupils to succeed where he had failed.

That was why the Head master would not give him the post. He had to learn that he had already made amends simply by his actions as a normal teacher. Being one of the D.A.D.A. didn’t have to mean absolution.

Shifting at the top of the High table, Dumbledore prodded absently at a piece of pastry soaked in gravy with the prong of a gold fork, distracted by the knowledge that fireworks were about to start, with the group who would be arriving within a matter of minutes.

Regular owls had been arriving from every stop along the journey, letting him know how they were progressing and Hagrid had gone down to collect the little group from Hogsmeade Station.

His eyes rose to the door as they opened and he smiled, starting to rise.

"HOLY CRAP! Look at this place!"

Ah, there was Miss Summers making her entrance.

"OMIGOD! BUFFY!"

And there was the expected reaction.

Dawn Summers and Willow Weasley both erupted from their seats at the Gryffindor table, Willow smiling for the first time in days, both of them running down the aisle towards the group standing in the doorway.

Squeals and hugs were exchanged between the Slayer, her best friend and her sister, then the rest of the little group joined them and it looked like on massive, multi-armed hug was taking place.

A few of the teachers were looking to the Head Master in expectation, especially one Severus Snape, who had a distinctly suspicious look on his face. Dumbledore gave a mental sigh and hoped that he would be forgiven, yet again.

The group started down the aisle, with a distinct lack of Giles, who was remaining behind for a couple of days to tidy up affairs at the Magic Box. The Head Master was amused to notice a few of the senior females casting surreptitious looks at the tall, angular, blond-haired vampire, who was striding down the aisle.

Of course, he would draw attention.

Tall, lean, dangerous-looking. Of course, all of the older girls would appreciate the cheekbones, the blue eyes and the rebel look that he had about him, right down to the leather duster flaring around him.

There was a sigh from beside him and he looked to his right. Professor McGonagall was gazing at the vampire, her eyes misty with remembrance, and the Head Master stifled a chuckle.

"You know him, Minerva?" he asked.

"Someone who resembled him a great deal, although, the hair is certainly not right in that colour," she replied, a suggestion of a smile on her face, her chin propped on her upraised right hand. "He can’t possibly be who I’m thinking of..."

Dumbledore raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Indeed."

The group neared the table and Dawn and Willow both hurried back to their spots, Hermione running down from the High table to help them by conjuring an extra section of table for the group of four.

"Hi, Professor Dumbledore," Buffy smiled and stuck out a hand, which he shook with a smile. "This place is amazing!"

"Yes, we do keep it rather well, don’t we?" His eyes twinkled. "I assume you had a safe journey?"

"Bit bumpy on the flight, but hey! No biggie. We got here in one piece."

Dumbledore nodded. "As I can see," He couldn’t help glancing at Anya, who gave him a delighted wave. A smile came to his lips immediately and he turned back to Buffy. "I ought to introduce you," Clapping his hands for attention, even though every eye was already on the group, he gazed around the upturned faces. "We have a new member of staff joining us, today," he announced. "This young lady is Miss Buffy Summers and she is an honorary Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. She will be your new teacher in this subject."

A wave of murmurs broke out.

Clearly they hadn’t expected someone young, blonde, pretty and female to replace a werewolf, but - judging by the grins on some of the boys’ faces - they weren’t about to complain about it either.

"Hey!" Buffy waved around.

There was a loud thump from further along the table. Dumbledore glanced along, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Apparently, Severus’ meat knife had somehow got lodged in the thick wood of the table, to the hilt.

His bone-white hand was still clenched tightly around the thick, wooden handle of the knife, his knuckles jagged peaks of bone almost thrusting through his skin. His right arm shaking fitfully, as if he were trying to jerk the blade free from the wood, while the look on his face suggested that he would prefer it to be lodged in Dumbledore’s back to replicate the betrayal that Snape was clearly feeling.

The Potions Master’s eyes flashed at the Head Master, who sighed.

"Perhaps you ought to take your seats, Professor Summers," he suggested, nodding towards Willow and Dawn. The Slayer nodded, smiling. Xander and Anya joined her as they headed towards the table, but Spike remained.

He was gazing up at the ceiling pensively.

"You know how this is an enchanted ceiling, mate?" he remarked to Dumbledore, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his coat. "If I come here in the morning and avoid the light from the windows, would I be fried like a crispy critter because of the light from the ceiling?"

The Head Master’s blue eyes twinkled jovially. "You would be quite safe," he said with certainty. "After all, what you see in the ceiling is only a representation of what you see outside, William."

"William? B-Billy?"

The vampire looked down from the ceiling at Professor McGonagall. His eyes grew wide and his mouth falling open. "Bloody hell!" he whispered, taking a step towards the table. "Minnie..."

She was staring at him with about the same level of shock, holding out her left hand – which was shaking - to him, which he immediately took in his right and lifted to his lips. "What are you doing here?"

He nodded in the direction of the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. "I’m her sample for the kiddies," he answered, shaking his head. "Bloody hell...I should have known you’d be hereabouts..."

"You... you haven’t aged a day, Billy..."

"Well, I wouldn’t, ducks," he replied, staring at her, his voice only audible to the Head Master and Deputy Head Mistress. He was still holding her left hand with his right. "Being all undead and whatnot. I’m amazed you still remember me."

"From this, I assume you have met?"

They nodded in unison.

"Fifty years ago," Professor McGonagall replied, her voice shaking. "One winter night in Stirling..."

"A football club house, a sudden storm, some impressive right hooks and helluva lot of whisky if I remember correctly," Spike added with a reminiscent grin.

Much to Dumbledore’s amusement, Professor McGonagall, one of the sternest teachers in the school, went a flattering shade of rosy pink. "There was rather a lot of whisky, wasn’t there?" she had a small smile on her face. "Enough to make you forget about eating me..."

"At least in the way I originally intended, ducks," he purred, the pink glow moving rapidly to scarlet. Dumbledore’s blue eyes widened slightly, although he managed to quash a squeak of surprise that rose in his throat.

"Billy!" she muttered, blushing furiously. "Not in front of the Head Master..."

"I’m no pupil of his, Minnie. He doesn’t mind," Spike murmured, still staring at her in disbelief. "You’ve aged well, too..." he remarked, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. "I s’pose a girl like you is like a fine wine..."

"Flattery all the way," she gave him a wan smile. "Whatever happened to that cocky, arrogant loudmouth who said I knew nothing about bare-fist street fighting and got very drunk with me after that riot at the club?"

Professor Dumbledore silently made careful and not-so-subtle adjustments to his mental picture of Professor McGonagall.

"You want me to misbehave, Minnie?" Spike widened his eyes, drawing a chuckle from the deputy Head Mistress, who swatted at the hand holding hers. "And in front of all your pupils?"

"Billy, you would misbehave if the Pope himself was standing over you," she said, fondness in her voice.

He gave her a smile. "One night spent in my company and you know me better than I know myself," he said.

"Ahem..."

Both of them glanced sideways at Dumbledore, who subtly nodded towards the sea of faces staring up at them. Spike was still holding McGonagall’s hand in his, a few people looking bemused by the striking blond fornicating with the Deputy Head Mistress of the school.

Shooting a look over his shoulder at the bemused face, Spike chuckled. "How about this, Minnie," he said. "You and me and a bottle of cognac tonight? Reminisce about the good old days and such like?"

"Cognac?"

"What can I say? I has gone and got a bit more refined, has I."

"I’m sure you have, Billy," she still smiled when he lifted her knuckles to his lips, bowing over them. "And I’ll see what I have planned for tonight. If I’m not too busy, I’ll keep your offer in mind..."

He gave her a devilish grin. "I’ll be seeing you tonight then," he purred, before strolling off towards the rest of the newly arrived group.

"Well..." Dumbledore said.

Professor McGonagall looked like she was having trouble keeping a broad grin off her face. Her lips were twitching and she raised a hand to cover her mouth, her green eyes twinkling in the direction of the vampire.

"What is it, Albus?" she asked, although her voice sounded a little more giggly and girly than it had in many years.

He gave her a look. "Well..." was all he said.

"Have I finally succeeded in...surprising you?" she asked, giving him a thoroughly innocent look.

Dumbledore was hard-pressed not to smile. "It would certainly appear to be the case, dear lady," he replied.