Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Genres:
General Crossover
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 11/02/2002
Updated: 11/04/2007
Words: 363,688
Chapters: 65
Hits: 101,532

The Eighth Weasley

Fyre

Story Summary:
Set post-book seven. Voldemort is long gone and the dust is settling. So when the Weasleys are informed that a missing family member has been located, there is a great deal of excitement and nervousness as contact is made with said absentee from the family. However, when it transpires that the missing Weasley has connections with a certain Vampire Slayer, it goes without saying that Hogwarts will never be the same again!

Chapter 38

Chapter Summary:
Chapter 38 - FAIR DARKNESS - Two Malfoys show face. Buffy feels out of touch with her Slayerness. Funky dreams and lotsa pain (for a couple of people at least) ensue.
Posted:
12/17/2002
Hits:
1,316
Author's Note:
Gack! So much for sporadic! Three chapters in 2.5 days is honestly quite mad! And trust me on this, many characters who have previously shown up in earlier chapters are about to return in abundance :D Not all, but quite a lot of them. And I did try to keep the chapters under 15 pages. I really did and it kind of... didn't work at all. Sorry!

FAIR DARKNESS

Notes: I didn´t intend to writing this so quickly, but eesh! I had just finished 37 and crawled into bed, when the muse struck at 4am. Hopefully I´ll remember half the crazy ideas I had for this chapter *crosses fingers*

End of chapter notes - oh MAN! Another biggie! (I did try to keep it under 15 pages, honestly!) I like this chapter :D The 'Run and catch' scene especially. And of course, any which feature my favourite blond bombshell. *twitches* This is getting absurd. 27+ pages of fic since I logged off the internety computers last night. Yeesh.

_________________________________

"Hey, cupcake. You must be Luce´s little boy."

Draco Malfoy stared mutely at the gorgeous blond sprawled on the couch in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. She was stunning, in a red dress that looked like she had been poured into it. "And who might you be?"

He had entered the room to find blue-green eyes studying him with amusement, the woman lazing in a patch of cold wintery moonlight that spilled in through one of the tall windows in the wall.

He had never seen her before in his life, but suspected that she was about to become a significant feature.

"Friend of the family, baby," the woman smiled.

The brilliant smile reminded Draco strongly of his father. It was viewed as a genuine and almost friendly smile, but it had the underlying threat and controlled danger of a calculating and calm psychopath.

"And does this friend of the family have a name?" he asked, an air of disdain in his voice to hide the curiosity.

This wasn´t just one of father´s fancy girls.

He could tell that much by looking at her.

There was the same air about her that his father held. She looked casual, beautiful and warm, but the minute he met her eyes, he knew there was something beyond it, a pure, untamed animal rattling inside a cage, awaiting release.

"Call me Glory, baby," she replied, cocking her head coquettishly at him, her curly hair tumbling around her shoulders.

Draco slowly nodded, allowing his lips to lift in a smirk. "Glory," he murmured. "I believe you mentioned my father´s name. You are a...friend of his?"

"Percepto-boy, huh?" the woman laughed. It was, on the surface, a pleasant sound, but there was a chilling darkness in it that made the younger Malfoy shudder. It was a laugh like his father´s when he had just killed. "Yeah, I´m a friend of your daddy´s."

"And mother?"

Glory smirked at him. "Hey, I´m all up for a threeway if your momma is half as good-lookin´ as your daddy," her eyes skimmed over him speculatively and Draco felt like he had been stripped naked and dipped in honey or something equally lickable from the way she was leering at him, colour instantly blotching his cheeks. "And if daddy doesn´t mind goin´ halfs with his cutie-patootie little boy..."

"Embarrassing my son already?" Lucius Malfoy´s broke the awkward silence that had sprung up in the wake of her lewd suggestion and Draco and Glory both looked towards the door.

"Hey, sugar," Glory grinned broadly, as Lucius crossed the floor and rounded the couch to sit at the opposite end from her. "You didn´t tell me the boy had your looks."

"All with good reason, Glory," Lucius replied, a genuinely amused smirk on his lips as he surveyed his son. Draco shifted uncomfortably, pulling his robes in front of his body. "And my son apparently...appreciates the sentiment."

Draco scowled at his father. "Father, does mother know...?"

"Of course she does, my boy. There has never been a woman in this house whom Narcissa was not aware of," Lucius waved his hand imperiously. "Now, leave. Glory and I have a great deal to discuss."

Draco, teeth gritted together, nodded and turned to walk out. As he closed the doors of the room behind him, he saw his father pulling the gorgeous blonde towards him, their lips meeting in a savage kiss.

Just once, he mused, he had hoped father would respect mother.

Obviously, it was hoping for too much.

***

"Well done. That was a great improvement."

Buffy lowered the quarterstaff, pressing the tip against the ground and leaning on it, a dubious look on her face. "I dunno, Giles," she said, raising a hand to push her hair back from her face. "I...I´m losing my edge."

"Nonsense," her Watcher said briskly. "You are a little out of practise, but you have had quite a few other considerations to take up your time, being such a good teacher for one thing. You simply need to re-establish a rhythm and get back into training."

The pair of them were in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, after hours, so Buffy could practise her Slayer skills and Giles had cleared the floor of desks with a wave of his wand.

They had sparred with quarterstaffs, fought with some of the selection of swords that Giles had been able to find around the school, used some of the furniture as a kind of obstacle course, but the Slayer still wasn´t satisfied.

"Maybe I should let you do the teaching thing, so I can get back into things," she said distractedly, batting away a knife that Giles had hurled at her head, still leaning on the staff. "Or maybe I can cut back on hours," Another knife was swatted aside.

"Don´t be ridiculous, Buffy," Giles answered, hurling the last knife.

Buffy caught it an inch from her head, by the blade. "You´re saying I could go one-on-one with Glory?" she asked, then seemed to realise that she had managed to avoid all the knives. "Uh, Giles, when did you get with the throwing?"

"Some time between the moment when you were complaining about your lack of skill and wallowing in self-pity," her Watcher replied with an amused chuckle. "You deflected four and caught one, without even being aware of it. I would say your skills are only growing, despite your misgivings."

Tossing the knife in her hand, she grinned wryly. "I guess I´m just feeling kinda outta the loop since I don´t have to slay every night," she admitted, whirling as the door opened and launching the knife, a blush rising in her cheeks as the Head Master looked from the blade which was shivering in the wood, six inches from his head, then back to the Slayer. "Um..."

"Most impressive, Professor Summers," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "I´m sure you sent that as a warning."

"Actually," she replied, aware of the teasing twinkle in his eyes. "I missed."

He smiled slightly, looking around the classroom. "I had Argus report to me that there was some kind of disturbance in this room," he remarked conversationally. "I thought I ought to come down and make certain that no damage was being done."

"Don´t you trust us, Head Master?" Buffy feigned shock.

"Are Minerva and William in negotiations to take over the world?"

Hazel and green eyes blinked at the Head Master, who chuckled to himself and toyed with the end of his beard.

"Spike and McGonagall joining forces to take over the world..." Giles muttered to himself, shaking his head violently to dislodge the very disturbing mental image he had apparently been granted. "Dear God..."

Dumbledore hummed to himself cheerfully, as Buffy straightened up and handed her quarter staff back to Giles. "I do believe that William requested permission to keep London and Canada. Very odd young man..."

"Spike as very odd. There´s an understatement if I ever heard one," Buffy muttered with a shake of her head. Returning her attention to the Head Master, she asked. "Is there any word on Glory?"

"I am afraid not, Professor Summers, but I did hope I would find you here for a reason, you see," Hazel eyes met blue in question. "From what I witnessed, you feel you are unprepared for what lies ahead, do you not?"

"I guess, a little."

"Ahem?" Giles coughed.

"Okay, a lot. I don´t feel like I´m up to it anymore."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "That is a rather unfortunate position to be in, especially considering your duty," he agreed, a mild tone in his voice. "So I would like to propose a solution for you."

Shooting a glance at Giles, Buffy nodded. "Go on."

"The other members of staff and I will be able to provide you with a challenging training ground, so you may rebuild your confidence in your abilities. It will provide you with illusions of the creatures you battle and an element of the real that hand-to-hand training with a human would not provide. It may take a few days to arrange the charms and spells, but if you would like, we will provide it."

"You...you can do that?"

He sniffed primly. "Professor Summers, I am the Head Master," he answered. "I can do anything I like."

Buffy looked at her Watcher, jerking her thumb in Dumbledore´s direction. "And this guy is the guy you look up to as the safest and most responsible guy in the world, Giles? What are you? Crazy?"

Dumbledore and Giles just laughed.

***

Leaning forward on the edge of the table, Spike watched carefully as Professor Hermione Granger and Willow Weasley entered the Great Hall, both young women laughing as they made their way down towards the tables for breakfast.

They weren´t even touching one another, but there was a visible glow around them, their smiles as bright as the morning sunlight slanting in through the high windows and playing across the clear blue sky of the ceiling.

The corner of his lips lifted as they reached the Sunnydale table, their fingertips brushing briefly before Hermione hurried up to the staff table, Willow´s eyes hanging on the other witch as she slid into the seat opposite the vampire.

"Sooooooo..."

Jerking her attention from Hermione, Willow blushed as she looked across at the only other occupant of the table, the vampire smirking at her. "So what?" she asked, snatching some toast from the plate that had just appeared in front of her.

His elbow propped on the table, his chin cupped in his hand, Spike gave her a slow, lazy grin. "So, did you have a good night then, Red?"

Willow went red from her toes to the tips of her ears, her vain attempt to smother a smile in vain and she hastily ducked her head over her toast, keeping her eyes down as Xander and Anya approached.

"Hey, Will...and you," Xander sat down beside the red head, while Anya hurried around the table and dropped down next to Spike with a broad smile. It really did look like they were...up to something.

"How goes, Wanker?"

The Muggle scowled at the vampire. "Don´t make me want to stake you anymore than you have to, Fangless," he replied. "And, just so you know, it goes good. Hagrid says he´s gonna take me to see his giant spider buddy."

"Ah, the thrilling lives we all lead," Spike heaved a sigh, then turned his attention back to Willow, eyes glinting with mischief. "So, Red, what did you get up to last night? Or down to? Or dare I say...into?"

"Spike!"

Anya stared at the witch. "Omigod! Willow has a new orgasm friend!"

Every first year at the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables turned to stare, Anya´s voice ringing out as loudly as ever. The whispers rapidly spread up the tables like wildfire and Willow moaned miserably, burying her face in her arms. "Anya!"

"Willow?" Xander stared at her as well. "You..."

Willow groaned. "Does everyone have to know already?"

"Who is it?" her friend asked.

Green eyes rose. "Not telling yet," she mumbled. "We did kinda want it to be a bit of a secret until we were ready." Xander nodded in acceptance, giving her a smile that she knew meant he was relieved and happy for her.

On the other side, the vampire gave the former Vengeance demon a broad grin, which she returned with a scowl. "Told you so, demon-girl," he said, opening a hand, palm-up, in front of her. "Now, cough up."

"Wait a second!" Willow squeaked. "You were making bets on me getting together with someone?"

Spike turned innocent blue eyes to her. "Now, luv, why on earth would you think that?" he said, looking completely helpless. "Just because I locked the pair of you in a cupboard doesn´t mean I was trying to win anything."

A handful of galleons were slapped into his palm. "You cheated," Anya grumbled.

Pocketing his winnings, Spike snickered at the looks on both the witch and the ex-demon´s faces. "And you´re surprised and horrified by this?" he said. "What do I have to do to remind you that I´m evil?"

"Real evil," Xander smirked at him. "A real evil-matchmaker."

Much to the surprise of the other three at the table, Spike leaned back, grinning at them. "And I´m bloody good at it as well," he said, before swinging out onto his feet and leaving the hall.

***

Sprawled in Lucius Malfoy´s enormous bed, Glory lazily surveyed the human beside her, her eyes wandering over his body with undisguised interest, as he gazed at her through half-closed lids.

Not exactly old, he was in middle-age, and he had obviously worked hard to keep himself in good shape, his body lean, although not exactly muscular, his skin a whiter shade of pale than any human´s she had seen before.

Something told her that he wouldn´t tan, but she kinda liked it that way.

His lean, pointed face was just as pale, his eyes silver-grey like a pale storm cloud, just as a storm is about to break, although she had seem them darken to the deep hue of a thunderhead with building emotions.

His long, blond hair was his greatest luxury, she could tell, spreading around him like strands of silk.

Kneeling up on the bed, she let her eyes drift over his limbs, memorising each of them, a crease wrinkling her brow as she spotted a potential flaw in the human who had become her consort.

A mark on his left forearm.

A dark smudge against the pale skin.

Reaching for his arm, she leaned close to look at it, his right hand behind his head, as he watched her with lazy amusement.

"Luce, baby, what´s this?" she asked, gazing at the snake protruding from the mouth of a skull.

"The mark of my previous Master," he replied without a hint of embarrassment. She didn´t touch it yet, because sometimes, dark marks did have a tendency of biting the toucher on the ass. "You like?"

Glory wasn´t certain.

She could feel the unnatural prickle when her hand nearly touched the mark and was kind of curious.

"Looks kinda wigsome," she replied.

"It´s harmless," Lucius said, leaning back against the pillows. "The one who marked me is long gone now and that´s all that is left of him."

Glory looked at the mark again.

In that case, maybe it wouldn´t matter if she touched it...

***

Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch...

Buffy eased out of her four-poster bed, startled to realise that she must have slept in her clothes, her body clad in a creased cream shirt and dark blue trousers. Rubbing her eyes, she looked towards her sister´s bed, which was empty.

"Dawnie?"

"You better go," a voice said from the wall and she turned to the mirror, staring at her reflection. "Always counting down from seven-three-oh. Almost time for the door to be opened, big sister."

The Slayer blinked as her reflection swam into that of her sister Slayer. "F-Faith?"

"No rest for the wicked, B," Faith´s hand rose and spread on the inside of the glass and Buffy raised her own hand to touch it. She could feel the heat of Faith´s palm through the glass and gasped as their fingers interlocked. Faith gave her a sad smile through the mirror. "Gotta fight the good fight while you can. Wish I could be there to help, big sister. You know I´d be there running if I could be."

Staring at their joined fingers, Buffy lifted her face to the mirror to find her own reflection staring back at her. Her fingers were spread on the glass again and she shivered, withdrawing her hand.

"Buffy," Looking at the reflection of the room, she saw Dawn standing in the image of the doorway. "It´s coming."

Turning, the Slayer squinted in the sunlight, her sister no longer in sight. "Dawnie, where are you?" she called, hurrying towards the door. The hall was flooded with light, but it felt like she was bogged down in time as she tried to run.

The bright, warm light dimmed and waned, until the hall was flooded with pale, bluish moonlight and she finally reached the corridor, which opened out onto the Entrance Hall of the school.

Run and catch...

Descending the staircase, Buffy felt a shiver of unease, convinced that someone was moving around near her, but she could see no one. The Hall was dark and deserted, lit only by the light of the moon.

"Hey, baby," a voice purred from directly behind her and she spun around as soon as her feet touched the floor of the hall. Glory stood behind her, wearing a deep blue tracksuit, leaning against the marble banister, smiling.

Run and catch...

Buffy looked around. "What´s going on?"

"Tick tock, tick tock, Slayer," the Goddess replied. "Strike on seven three oh and the world falls down."

Buffy raised her eyes ceilingwards. "Always with the cryptic," she berated her subconscious. "Why can´t you ever just give me a book of evil plans and a post-it that says `This is what´s happening. Deal with it´?"

"Got to choose what to do, Slayer," another voice replied and she turned to find a young man, whom she vaguely recognised, standing where Glory had been, wearing the same clothing, gazing at her. "Got to know who to trust and who to fear."

Who was he?

Brown hair, nice eyes, nice smile...

"Ben?" The orderly from the hospital in Sunnydale was showing up in her freaky dreams? Oh, this was definitely not of the good. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as everyone, Slayer," he replied. "Remember where to place your trust." He nodded beyond her and she turned to see groups of people milling into the hall, some face familiar, others not.

"So you´re my guide?"

"Never said that, Slayer," Ben replied.

"And can I trust anything you say?"

There was a lop-sided grin on the man´s face. "Never said that either. Looks like you´re catching on to the game."

Moving out into the hall, Buffy´s eyes wandered the faces and she noticed a long, silver line of moonlight seemed to be bisecting the hall into two quadrants, the people moving and facing each other across the line.

The lamb...

A tall blond man caught her attention and he was opposite...Snapey?

She approached them both, watching as - in sync - they both undid the cuffs of their left sleeves and started to peel back the sleeves from their arms. She found herself shivering with unease as the fabric was rolled back.

"You gotta know, sweetie," Glory´s voice returned. "Gotta know who to trust."

Is caught...

Both men extended their left arms into the moonlight and Buffy gasped in horror at the sight of matching dark symbols burned into the pale skin of the arms of both of the men in front of her.

In the blackberry patch...

Her heart slammed against her chest.

"But he..."

"Gotta know, baby."

"Face it, Slayer," Spike´s voice reached her from further down the line. "You can never tell who you are, until you´re tested."

Shaking, Buffy stared at the vampire. He was several people down from Snapey and the people between them, she knew she should recognise. A tall, black-haired man with blue eyes, a slighter, more fragile-looking man with pale eyes, an aged man with nearly white eyes.

"Your words, Spike?"

The vampire´s lips lifted. "Borrowed words, luv, but the meaning is the same."

"All a matter of trust," the pale-eyed man murmured, gazing straight at her. "Have to find out where trust lies and where it can be placed. Do you trust the ones who come out of the dark enough?"

"Who are you?"

Lips arched up in a smile. "One of dark in the moonlight," the reply came. "Do you know, Summers?"

"Know what?"

"Where to trust, doofus," Dawn´s voice spoke from beside her, the brunette teenager grinning when Buffy turned to her. She was standing next to Snapey, practically holding his arm. "What? Like you were listening to anything anyone said."

"Dawnie, get away from him."

"You don´t get it, do you?" Dawn sighed.

"People change, Slayer," Spike agreed.

"From dark to light, singing and dancing in the moonlight," a shadowy figure, facing Spike, breathed in a hushed tone. "Like the man of books, bearing a mark that can´t be washed off with soap nor sugar candy."

"Giles," Buffy looked from one face to the other, then back at Snape. "You´re saying that he..."

"Gotta know, Slayer," Glory repeated. She was standing by the blond-haired man, a smile on her lips. Her hand was hovering over the dark tattoo on his arm. Buffy could feel a throbbing pain in the scar on her neck. "Gotta work it out."

Run and catch, run and catch...

She reached out to stop the Goddess touching the brand.

The lamb is caught...

Glory´s hand sealed over the mark on the blond man´s arm and Buffy heard the screams begin, whipping around to see Snapey on his knees on the floor, as the whole world around her rapidly faded to black.

In the blackberry patch.

***

Marking fifth year scrolls in the privacy of his chambers, Severus Snape was studiously avoiding the Great Hall, breakfast or anything that vaguely involved seeing Summers in any way, shape or form.

Pausing, he rubbed at his left arm again.

The fleshy part of his forearm. The sign of his greatest mistake remained there, never to disappear, a constant reminder of his folly and impetuous nature as a youth.

It had been twinging all morning, a little distracting and disconcerting.

And the most absurd thing was that he was actually convinced that, at any moment, he would be summoned to his Dark Master. The Dark Master who had been defeated three years earlier.

It was impossible.

Returning his attention to his scrolls, he rose from the desk to get a fresh bottle of ink from the shelves to his left.

And that was when the pain hit, smashing him to the stone floor like a massive fist.

***

"Professor Dumbledore!"

Everyone looked around in surprise at the shout of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, as she sprinted down the length of the Great Hall, her hair unbrushed and her clothing creased.

Rising, Dumbledore´s face revealed nothing, but those closest to him could see the concern in his eyes.

"Professor Summers?"

Panting as she skidded to a halt at the High Table, she clutched her chest, drawing huge gulps of breath. "I-I need to get the password to Snapey´s room," she gasped, her face flushed, looking as if she had just run laps of the castle to reach them.

"Severus´ room?"

Nodding, she swallowed down more air. "I had a dream..." Giles was on his feet at the end of the table, immediately hurrying closer and she lowered her voice. "A whole lot of people were in it...Snapey...Glory was in it...touched a mark on some guy´s arm and I heard screaming...Snapey was on the ground..."

"A mark?" Giles´ hand convulsively jerked to his right elbow.

"Super-wiggy mark right here," Buffy confirmed breathlessly, pointing to her left forearm. "Looked like a black snakey kinda thing with a skull on it."

Dumbledore´s blue eyes widened and he motioned for both of them to follow him, hurrying towards the side door of the Great Hall, Buffy ignoring bemused stares from her friends as she followed them.

"What else happened in this dream?"

Buffy, flanking one side of the Head Master, immediately filled in the details of the dream and the repeated questioning of whom to trust. "I wanna know something," she said carefully. "Snapey is a good guy, right?"

"Absolutely," Giles nodded in affirmation.

"He may have had flaws in the past, Professor Summers," Dumbledore said quietly, as they hurried down the long halls and darkening staircases of the castle, towards the dungeons. "But like your Giles, he has fought long and hard to overcome them."

They reached the painting that lead into the Potions Professor´s chamber and the Head Master knocked on the frame. "Severus?" he called, his voice louder and more powerful than Buffy had heard it before.

No response came from within the room.

Laying his hand on the painting, Dumbledore muttered rapidly under his breath, his eyes closed and brow writ with concern.

"The doorway has sealed itself tight. I will have to trigger the release mechanism that Severus left with me from my office," he said, pulling away from the painting and looking at them both. "Giles, I do believe that Buffy is right about Severus, so I would suggest you go to Poppy and have her ready the infirmary," Nodding, Giles hurried away. "Buffy, remain here. When the painting opens, see what you can do. If he is unconscious, get him to the medical wing immediately."

Nodding, Buffy shivered as soon as the Head Master was out of sight, wrapping her arms around herself. She hadn´t even taken the time to grab a sweater and the halls and dungeons weren´t exactly known for being warm.

Pacing back and forth, she waited anxiously for the trigger to work. It seemed like an eternity before the painting made a soft clicking around and swung open.

The lights of the dim little room were cast across the figure of the usually tall and imposing potions Master, shivering in a ball on the floor, his body shuddering with violent convulsions.

"Snapey," Buffy was on her knees by his side in a heartbeat, gently shifting him into a semi-sitting position. "Can you hear me?"

"In pain...not deaf...woman..." he gritted out, his teeth clattering together.

"And there´s the moody prick that we all know so well," she replied, her arm behind his shoulders, holding him up.

His face was whiter than usual, his whole body utterly rigid. His eyes were streaming with tears, although the Slayer got the feeling that he wasn´t crying. They were just tears and they signified how much pain he was in.

"Want me to take you to the medical wing?"

His teeth grit together, he jerkily shook his head. "Not now...need..." She followed his line of sight to the numerous bottles that neatly lined the shelves on the wall. "The pale blue... red label..."

Laying him down, Buffy nodded, scrambling up to find the bottle and returning to his side. "Now what?"

Even in spite of the pain, he gave her a condescending look. "Open it," he replied hoarsely. His body was still shaking violently, his right hand convulsively squeezing on his shuddering left forearm.

"Ew! It stinks!"

There was a peculiar glint in his eyes. "You´re not...drinking it..." he replied, raising a hand to take the bottle, but his rigid fingers made it impossible to grip. A look of angry humiliation crossed his face. "Dammit..."

"No biggie," Buffy steadied his shoulders again. "How much do you need?"

"All of it," he replied, his jaw clenched.

"So open up and I´ll help you."

"Help...me?"

Buffy had to smile. "Would you stop being stubborn and let me give you your weird-ass medicine already?" Snape scowled at her, but reluctantly let her trickle the pale fluid into his mouth. "Now, do I gotta burp you?"

"Summers," he growled.

"See," she grinned at him. "You´re feeling better already. Now, I have to take you to Madam Pomfrey, or else Giles´ll have run all the way across the school for no reason and he would be cranky."

Snape looked like he was about to protest, but she gave him a look and hooked her arms under his body, lifting him up as easily as she might lift a toddler.

"This looks absurd," he muttered darkly, hoping in vain that no one would see him in this most undignified position. Even if they did, he wouldn´t have been able to move his body to hex them.

"Well, at least you don´t have your ass in the air this time," Buffy reminded him cheerfully, starting briskly out of the portrait hole and in the direction of the infirmary wing, her grip on him secure as he continued to shiver violently.

"Yes," he had to admit under his breath. "That is a small blessing."

***

"You okay, baby?"

Practically buried into the wall of his bedroom, which he had slammed up against the moment his Dark Mark had been activated by her touch, Lucius Malfoy raised pain-filled eyes to Glory, who was looking rather bemused and amused.

"Actually," he hissed, in a voice laced with blinding agony, his cheeks flushed. "I feel like I have had fifty hot pokers rammed into a rather painful orifice of my anatomy, but thank you for asking."

Glory shrugged with a smile. "Sucks to be you."

"It´s your fault, you blasted woman! You didn´t inform me that you were connected to the dark magics!"

She actually laughed aloud and mockingly at that. "What part of `Supreme Goddess of several Hell Dimensions´ didn´t spell out in big letters than I am pure, one hundred percent bad-girl, Goldielocks?"

"Ah."

Glory snickered. "You´re so dumb."

"I resent that."

"And?" she smirked at him. "I´m way more powerful than you and you can´t do anything but piss and moan at me, until I wipe out all the mudbloods that you make such a big deal about."

Lucius scowled. "You could do...something...about the pain."

"No can do, baby, I give pain, I don´t take away...unless you want for me to distract you," As an implication of her intentions, she dropped her bathrobe. "I´m real good at posing a distraction."

Lucius looked torn between whimpering in pain or sarcastically contradicting her.

Fortunately for him, her tongue in his mouth did prove something of a distraction.

***

"Is he gonna be all right?"

Barely an hour had passed since Professor Severus Snape had been liberated from his own chambers and carried all the way to the medical wing, by the diminutive blonde, for treatment for some kind of...reaction.

Snape was puzzled, although he tried to conceal it.

His Dark Mark, the scar he would eternally bear for his folly as a youth, had only ever been triggered by Lord Voldemort. It had been placed by him and could, as far as Snape had known, only be activated by his touch.

Something had activated it, though.

Something with more malevolent power than the Dark Lord had ever had.

Something that had convinced him his body was going to split itself apart. It was far worse then Cruciatus had ever been and he only hoped that there hadn´t been any lasting damage.

Lying on the bed, his head throbbing where it lay on the pillows, he couldn´t even manage to lift a hand, though not for the want of trying. Tilting his head a fraction, a groan escaping him, he caught the sound of voices.

"He should live," Poppy replied. "It's lucky you went to check up on him, Professor Summers."

Madam Pomfrey was talking to the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in a low voice near his curtained-off area and Severus Snape couldn´t help listening in on the conversation in confusion.

Summers had been the one to know to seek him out, out of concern?

Fan-bloody-tastic.

"I had no idea you had the sight."

Oh dear Lord...

As if being a female, a Vampire Slayer, a muggle, an American, a blonde, a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, a general irritation and the splinter imbedded under his skin, she was a bloody Seer as well.

Wonderful.

"Sometimes I just get bad feelings about things," Summers demurred politely. "No big deal really."

Well, well, that was different.

Someone who `saw´, but didn´t brag about it.

"But if you hadn´t known to go and check on him, Professor Summers," Pomfrey continued doggedly. "I do quite honestly believe that his heart would have given up on him. This...attack was far worse than anything I´ve seen him suffer before."

Snape blinked in surprise.

Yes, it had been painful, but that much worse?

Good grief...

A mental groan escaped him as he realised what that meant.

Bloody wonderful.

He owed Summers, SUMMERS of all people, his life.

As if that bloody debt to James Potter hadn´t been enough, so many years ago, now he had another enemy who had stuck their nose in and saved his life when he hadn´t asked them too.

Why, he wondered, didn´t I just have Voldemort Avada Kedavra me when I still had the chance?

There was a muffled discussion that he couldn´t quite hear, then the drapes around his bed part, to allow the person he wanted to see least entry, an odd expression on her face.

"Hey Snapey, you big faker," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed he was still unable to walk off, making it impossible for him to escape her. His body, while it was shivering less violently, was still convulsing, aching and annoyingly weak.

"Summers." He closed his eyes momentarily, then spoke again, his throat raw with pain. "I suppose I ought to be grateful to you."

Tilting her head, she studied him pensively. "I guess you heard what the little nursey witch said, huh?" He dipped his chin slightly in a nod. "How´d´you think I felt when you jumped in on my dream?"

A brow rose. "You...have dreams of me, Summers?" he smirked slightly, although it was still painful to even breathe. "I see... you simply annoy me...to get closer..."

"No! You pervert!" His lips quirked in a smug smirk. "You really are a big jerk," she looked like she wanted to hit him, shaking her head. "And you better get your ass up and about again soon. I don´t have anyone to annoy."

"Pity."

"Don´t sound so disappointed," she scowled down at him. "I was gonna stay and annoy you here, I´m not real good at being a visitor in hospital places so I can´t stay here very long."

"Oh?" He tried desperately not to tell her to depart immediately, trying to remain even a little civil. "And why is that?" A pained look crossed her face and she actually looked serious for a moment, much to his astonishment. "Summers?

"My mom had a cancer scare a few months ago," she replied quietly, her eyes on her hands that were folded in her lap. "Brain tumour," She laughed, a tight, restrained sound that suggested the memory had her close to tears. "Kinda a shock for the girl who slays all bad things to not be able to do anything to help."

The Potions Professor stared at her. He had never considered that before. That, while she had super-hero abilities, her family, her mother...they were just mortal. Normal humans. And for her to reveal this to him...

"Summers..."

She raised her eyes that looked strangely exhausted for one so young, missing Snape´s shocked look and smiled, although it was strained. "Hey! She´s okay now but I´m still wigged by hospitals. Plus, there was a whole Kinderstod thing... way wiggy... with the creepy, stalky eyes and everything..."

Severus blinked at her. She had the concentration span of a flea, when it came to conversation and he had no idea how she could jump topic so easily. "What the devil are you babbling about?"

"Long story," she replied. "Could tell you, but since you´d sneer and roll your eyes, so I don´t think I´ll bother." Standing up, she ran a hand through her tangled and unbrushed hair. "And ick. Looks like I´m trying to copy your hair-style."

"How flattering," Snape muttered.

"I try," she grinned, before walking back to the drapes. "You get better, kay? I have so many things to bug you with."

"I´m alive with anticipation," he returned dryly, receiving a chuckle from her. She paused halfway out of the drapes, then turned to him, her brow wrinkling pensively as she studied him and, more significantly, his covered arm. "Is there something else?"

"The mark thing on your arm," All right, that was unexpected. From what he heard, Death Eaters had never reached America, so how did she know of his mark? "Did a lot of people have them?"

"What does it matter?"

The Slayer´s face was wrought with concentration. "If there were only a few of you, maybe you would know the guy who Glory touched to make it...well, to do whatever it was that made you hurt..." she said, returning to sit on the edge of the bed. "He´s the guy who has to be helping her."

The Potions master tried to deal with the flurry of facts that she had thrown at him.

It was impossible that she knew everything that she appeared to.

Giles and Dumbledore would never have told her of his past without his direct consent, but here she was, presenting him with a list of reasons for him being in pain, which made considerable sense.

She knew about the Dark Mark, which was an impossibility in itself. Even Giles and Dumbledore assumed that it was gone, so this slip of an annoying little girl knowing about it was...odd to say the least.

It was Glory who had triggered the mark. That made a lot of sense, considering what he had heard about the Hell Goddess.

Summers had realised that Glory touching the mark had been the thing to trigger it, causing the pain which had lead her to finding him. She really was quite bright, in spite of what he had initially thought.

There was an in-betweener for the wizarding world and the Hell-Goddess, who was a Death Eater. That also made a frightening amount of sense, especially if she had contact with the Dark Mark.

Struggling to sit up, Severus arched a brow when Summers eased an arm under his ribs and hefted him up to rest against the pillows behind his back. While not exactly gentle, it helped. "How did you know of my mark?"

"Slayer dreams," she replied nonchalantly, as if prophetic dreams were normal, run-of-the-mill things. "It´s where I saw the guy. He´s kinda tall, maybe a bit taller than you. He had long hair, white or grey...light-coloured, expensive-looking clothes and he looked really sleazy."

Resting his head against the end of the bed, Snape exhaled a breath. "Malfoy," he said softly. He should have known. Without Voldemort, Lucius would be wanting to jump on the coat tails of the most powerful person around.

"Nuh-uh," Summers shook her head. "I´ve met Malfoy-guy in diagonally place. This guy was older."

"How old was the Malfoy you encountered?"

She shrugged. "Same age as me, I guess."

"His son."

A pained look crossed her face. "Shoulda known he´d want to get back at me for what I did to Junior."

Black eyes studied her. "Oh?"

"Um...kinda kicked his skanky ass when he put the imperial whammy on me."

"The Imperius curse?" Severus felt his brows knitting together, when she nodded. If Malfoy had been within strangling distance, he would have grabbed the boy and throttled him for daring to even look at Summers the wrong way.

After all, he hastily added, using the Imperius curse is bad, very, very bad. It wasn´t because it was on Summers in particular. He would have throttled Malfoy for using the curse on anyone.

And no, he mused, that was in no way denial of any kind.

"You...okay, Snapey? You look like someone just shoved that stick even further up your ass."

Ah, that was why he despised her.

"Summers, you know who your assailant is," he said, his eyes closed wearily. "I would suggest that you go and talk him to death and leave me. I have suffered your company for long enough today."

"You really have to work on the subtle thing you got going there," Summers said, her tone very different to the one she usually used. "You rest up cos I don´t wanna have to find a new enemy in the school, since you´re so good at it."

"Such a compliment," he murmured heavily.

He heard the swish of the drapes being pushed through and exhaled a sigh, as her high-heeled boots clicked away into the distance.

Slayer or not, Summers was a puzzle and an irritation all in one form. Despite being saviour of the world a dozen times over at least, she was still nothing more than a dizzy little blonde woman.

They were the one thing Snape knew he could never and would never understand, no matter how much he tried to comprehend them.

They, on the whole, were safer to be avoided.

Summers in particular.

***

"So Glory is...here?"

Buffy, sitting on the end of Willow´s bed, squeezed her hands between her knees. "I think she´s on her way," she admitted, looking around at their group. The Scoobies were reunited in the tower room, discussing Buffy´s dream.

Hermione had been utterly fascinated by the idea of the prophecy dreams of the Slayer, although Buffy had quickly convinced her that they weren´t a fun gift to have, especially involving blood, vampires and death.

"You said something about seven-three-oh...do you think that´s important?"

The Slayer´s brow wrinkled. "I-I think it could be," she said. "I remember when I was unconscious, just before Graduation, I had a dream and Faith was in it...she said something about counting down from seven-three-oh there."

Sitting on the thick carpet on the floor at Buffy´s feet, with Willow beside her, Hermione made notes, the red head occasionally leaning over her shoulder to point something out on the page.

Xander ran a hand through his hair. He was leaning against the end of Hermione`s bed, his knees upraised, one hand resting on his right knee. "So we´ve got some good guys who have been in bad places coming to help. Any idea who they are?"

Buffy considered for a moment, pursing her lips in thought. "Spike was there and you guys, I think," she replied thoughtfully. "There was an older guy with black hair and blue eyes. He looked real sad..."

"Sirius!" Willow gasped. "Of course!"

Dawn´s eyes went wide. "Sirius Black?"

"Of course!" Hermione added her exclamation to Willow´s, squeezing the red-haired witch´s knee. "He´ll be willing to fight and he´ll probably bring Harry and all your brothers along too."

"An army of Reds," Spike smirked. "If that doesn´t scare them, nothing will."

"I still owe you a staking, Mister!" Willow pointed threateningly at the vampire, who leered back at her, making sure that she noticed his eyes wandering over both her and her lover. "Or...I could poof ya!"

Hermione slapped Willow lightly on the knee, laughing. "You´re terrible."

"What I miss?" Xander demanded, looking bemused.

"In Willow´s very first potions lesson, she made a bottle of something for Snape that would alter his sexuality," Hermione informed them. Buffy choked, Xander gagged, Dawn burst out laughing and Spike´s grin widened.

"I knew there was a reason he liked you, Red," the vampire said. "Bet he slipped a little something into Dumbledore´s tea to get revenge for all those annoying little things the old bloke has done to him."

"And who would Dumbledore go after if he was...uh...that way?"

"You haven´t noticed Flitwick´s mad passionate crush on old Dumble, then?" Spike roared with laughter at the expression and fraught sounds of disgust and horror from around the room. "Kidding!"

Dawn´s face was twisted in a nauseous expression. "Ew...just...ew. Scary visual place... and did I mention the ew-ness?"

"Guys, come on," Anya was actually the one to call attention back to the matter at hand. "Evil Hell Goddess is on her way here and I don´t want to die yet. Can we come up with a plan that doesn´t involve us all being killed and maimed? Or at least a plan that won´t get me killed or maimed?"

Buffy sighed. "No one is gonna get killed or maimed, Anya," she said calmly. "Not as long as I can help it. We know that the Lucius-guy is the one helping Glory and he´s kinda hard to miss. Glory won´t be able to come straight to Hogwarts because of protection spells and everything. They´d have to come into the castle and that´s where we´re stronger than them."

"That´s right," Hermione noted, looking up from her notebook. "That would give us plenty of advanced warning as well."

"So what´s the plan? Do we sleep with stakes and knives under the pillow?"

"If that bakes your cookies, Xan, you do that," the Slayer smiled. "For now, I think we´re safe. Professor Dumbledore is working on more powerful protection spells and Anya," The ex-demon looked apprehensive. "He says you can probably help him with ancient protection rites and you guys," she looked down at Willow and Hermione, who squeezed each other´s hands. "You´re doing the brainy thing to work out what the dream deal is. Especially Ben. I don´t know where he came from."

"What can I do?" Dawn asked eagerly.

Buffy gave her a direct look. "You can do the school work mom sent for you and stay out of trouble," she said.

Dawn scowled. "Being a teenager sucks."

***

"You didn´t inform me that your little tramp was a seer."

Rupert Giles almost shot out of the seat in fright at Severus´ calm voice. Clutching his chest, he gave the younger man a dark look. "At least be kind enough to let me know you´re conscious, you pillock."

Still half-seated, half-lying on the bed in the medical wing, Snape looked like he should have been unconscious, his eyes barely slitted open, his face whiter than the sheet that Madam Pomfrey had tucked over him.

Had he the energy or physical strength, he would have immediately departed to return to his chambers. He hated being confined to the medical wing, viewing it as a sign of uselessness.

Unfortunately, he didn´t even have the strength to lift a hand and - as Giles had believed - he looked half-dead.

Snape´s lips curved in a smirk. "That would reduce the entertainment factor," he replied, shifting slightly to look at Giles, his breath wheezing in his lungs. "I trust you know what left me in this pitiful condition?"

"Glory, Lucius Malfoy and a dark mark connection," Giles nodded grimly. "How are you feeling?"

"Painful," Snape replied, his black eyes half-closed, then fixed Giles with a steady look. "Your Slayer knew."

The Watcher nodded. "I should have mentioned it when we arrived," he admitted it, sighing. "All Slayers are cursed with the sight, but only usually in dreams or waking dreams. It has been a cause of great emotional disturbance for Buffy in the past. She has a deep connection with her dreams now, so when you appeared..."

"She knew of the Mark. Where it was. No seer..."

"Her dreams show her everything, Sev, albeit cryptically," Giles said. "Whoever it is that sends her the dreams doesn´t care that she´s not meant to know about the mark, only that she needs to know it´s important."

"So she knows what I was?"

Green eyes met black. "She suspected anyway, Sev."

"Which is why she dislikes me so."

"Don´t be absurd," Giles shook his head. "She dislikes you for being an arrogant imperialist who looks better in black than she does and who can resist her makeover efforts. She wouldn´t dislike you for irrational choices made in your youth. Her own friends have made serious errors in judgement and she stands by them. Demon possession, notwithstanding." He looked down, then smiled slightly. "She even fell in love with a vampire."

Snape made an odd clicking sound in his throat, which Giles interpreted as shock and an inability to vocalise that shock without undoing all Madam Pomfrey´s work.

"Yes, a vampire, Sev, and don´t look so stunned. It was only Angelus."

"Angelus?!?"

"Souled."

Struggling to keep his eyes on Giles´ face, his vision blurring a little, Snape blinked at his friend. "You´re telling me..." he said carefully. "That your little...hussy was in love with the souled Angelus?"

"They were in love with one another," Giles answered quietly. "It could have been one of the most tragic love-stories ever composed. To comprehend Buffy, you must be able to comprehend what she has lived through."

He then proceeded to detail the tale of how the soul had been lost and Angelus had been evil once more, leaving Buffy with the responsibility of sending the man she loved to hell, when his soul had been returned in the middle of their final battle.

When he finally fell silent, he was gazing at a rumple in his trousers, as Snape stared straight up at the ceiling in shock.

"How old was she?"

"She fell in love with him when she was barely more than a child," Giles replied in a low voice. "She was sixteen. He was in his second century. There was something of an age gap, but they were truly in love. I think it almost killed her when she had to be the one to destroy him. She was seventeen when he turned bad, seventeen and a half when she finally defeated him."

Snape´s expression tightened, a line appearing between his brows. "She...she has suffered a great deal for one so young," he said it as a simple statement.

"Far too much, if the truth can be told," Giles admitted quietly. "Which is one of the reasons that I´m so glad that she could be brought here. Five years as the guardian of the gates of Hell is enough for any one little girl."

"And you fob her off onto me."

The watcher smiled. "You´re the only one, including Dumbledore, who might be able to provide the mental challenge she needs to keep herself from going insane, Sev, and vice versa for you. Neither of you have had a real challenge from another human in many moons."

Severus actually chuckled softly. "It is growing harder to catch her off-guard," he freely admitted. "She suspects everything now."

Giles nodded. "I´m sure you´ll manage something," he said. "Can´t disappoint her now, can we?"

"You will regret pitting us against one another, Rupert, I promise you."

A Ripperish grin was flashed down at the younger man. "I can´t wait," Giles said, green eyes glittering. "It´s going to be spectacular."