The Eighth Weasley

FUNKY SOUP

Notes: This chapter had a completely different idea behind it, then I started writing something in the previous chapter and it kind of...clicked and I ended myself laughing at the thought of it, so it became this chapter.

Add it to the original idea and you have a very big, very... strange chapter. Pity many of the characters, that´s all I´m saying.

________________________

"Hey, Giles!"

Looking up from the scrolls he was marking, Giles smiled broadly at the two young witches, who had just entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. "Good evening, Willow, Hermione."

The room was dark except for the area surrounding the massive teacher´s desk, where Giles was sitting. A large, six-foot-tall brass candelabra with a dozen white candles was standing a short way behind him, casting a warming glow over him, a lamp on the desk illuminating the work.

"Hello, Mr. Giles. We aren´t disturbing you, are we?" Hermione asked, as she and Willow paused at the far end of the classroom. "I mean, if you´re busy, we could come back later."

"Oh, don´t be ridiculous, Hermione!" Giles motioned them forward, smiling. "To be honest, I would be grateful for a breather."

"Whatcha workin´ on?"

Nodding to the pile of scrolls to his right, the former Watcher grimaced. "I promised Buffy that I would have my share of the marking done before the Christmas holidays come around."

"Why isn´t she marking `em?"

Giles gave the red-haired witch a `Oh, come on´ look. "She has them marked and re-marked her essays on the creatures already, Willow," he answered flatly. "She enjoys working with the children here far too much and she always likes to get their marked work back to them as quickly as she possibly can. It also means that I am left to wade through their attempts at describing how to defeat dark creatures."

"Buffy the teacher..." Willow shook her head, grinning slightly, as they reached the desk where Giles was sitting. "I dunno why, but it still sounds way wiggy."

The former watcher removed his glasses, rubbing them on his tie. "Ah, yes, it does sound rather...un-Buffy-like, doesn´t it?" Swinging off the high chair, he stretched out his legs. "So what can I do for you two ladies?"

"We didn´t have anything to do since it´s almost the end of term and we noticed you weren´t at dinner again," Hermione replied, shrugging. "We were a little curious, as you´ve been missing quite a few meals lately."

Giles chuckled. "Concern? For me? I am very touched, but you needn´t worry about me going hungry," He nodded down to the side of his desk, where a small cauldron was bubbling over a ball of fire. "I have grown rather adept at cooking and since I was foolish enough to leave my marking to the last moment, I have been using every minute I have available to work on it."

"Y´know," Willow grinned at him. "I never thought I´d ever see a day when Buffy was more organised than you were."

Giles tried to look indignant. "Well, I-I-I have been rather busy, with spells and with her training and one thing and another." Both witches folded their arms and gave him identical, knowing looks. "What?"

"Well, who else has been doing Buffy´s training?" Hermione remarked dryly. "Let me think about this...could it possibly be Buffy? And she still manages to find time to do her class work, her marking and annoy Severus."

"Not so much, though," Willow added pensively. "She was way worried about Dawnie after the whole demony-invasion thing last month and she´s been working a lot in their room at night. Professor Snape has been way too busy as well."

"No doubt trying to keep ahead of me in the workload and I do believe people have warned her to stay away from Severus prior to the Christmas break, as he is likely to be in the same infernal marking boat as us," Giles grumbled good-naturedly, picking up the "Kiss the librarian" mug that was standing on the desk and bending to ladle some vegetable soup into it out of the cauldron.

Willow giggled. "Professor Snape would use your insides for potions if he saw you doing that."

"Doing what?" Giles inquired.

"Using a cauldron for making something apart from potions," she replied, her green eyes crinkling with amusement. "He got uber cranky with me when I asked him if he had any potions just lying around."

"Willow, Severus tends to be rather...er...uber-cranky most of the time, in case you had forgotten," the middle-aged man replied, sitting back down on the stool. "And I´ll have you know I do sometimes make potions, when I´m not..." His eyes went to the pile of scrolls and he shuddered. "Now, I have been forced to recall - in detail - why I chose to be a librarian and not a teacher at Sunnydale High."

Hermione smirked. "Why do you think the Muggle-studies pre-Christmas essays are set to be handed in on the last day of term?" she said. "It gives me nearly a month to work on them."

"Nobody likes a smart arse, Granger," Giles retorted affably, studying the lumps of carrot floating in his soup. "Especially when that smart arse is getting shagged by a certain red-haired witch in the not too distant vicinity."

"Eeep!"

Hermione, while not quite as red as Willow, gaped at him. "How...?"

"Well, you see," he replied, using the tip of a quill to stir his soup. "I do very much like to have some kind of blackmail material, in order to have smug Muggle studies teachers and their girlfriends to help me mark my work, so as to outdo my fellow Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Nuh-uh!" Willow exclaimed. "That´s cheating! That´s not fair on Buffy!"

"Oh well," Giles gave her a wicked look, his green eyes twinkling with Ripperish glee. "I suppose that means I´ll set off a fireworks display in the hall with banners proclaiming the wonder of your love affair to the school public."

Hermione gasped. "You wouldn´t dare!"

"Wouldn´t I?"

"He would," Willow whimpered.

Giles´ face broke in a broad smile and he held out a quill to each of them. "You´ll find an ink well in each of the desks, so take as many papers as you think you could manage and let's see how well you work."

***

Sitting down at the High Table for breakfast, Buffy Summers looked dead on her feet. Her face was pale and she had dark rings around her eyes, her hair pulled back in a rough ponytail at the back of her neck.

Propping her right elbow on the table, she rested her head on her upraised hand and it did quite honestly look like she was about to fall asleep where she sat.

From the extra table, just in front of the High Table, near the Gryffindor table, Spike was staring at her with concern and nudged his neighbour, Xander. Xander followed his gaze, also frowning.

"What do you thinks up with her?" he inquired.

"She ever looked that bad before?" Spike asked.

Xander pondered the question for a moment or two. "Only when she came back after the summer when she killed the Master..." he replied. "And when Angel went bad... and when he left..."

"She killed the Master?"

Xander gave the vampire a look. "Well, yeah, but only after he killed her...and you didn´t know this, did you?" Spike shook his head, looking stunned. "The Master bit her and left her to drown. Angel and me went into the underground, found her, resuscitated her, then she threw the Master through a roof onto a pike and she´s been kicking ass ever since."

"Crazy bint," Spike muttered, pushing out from the table.

"Where are you going?"

The vampire looked down at him. "I´m gonna find out what´s...bitten her," Xander groaned at the pun and Spike flashed a grin at him. "Maybe she just had a bad night´s sleep or something."

Approaching the High Table, he moved behind Buffy´s chair and squatted down beside her.

"Morning, Slayer."

Buffy physically jumped, looking around in fright. "Spike! Don´t do that!"

"Frighten ya?" He grinned up at her, leaning on the arm of her chair, but she didn´t return it and concern filtered onto his features. "What´s up, Slayer? You´re not your usual chipper Slay-gal self."

"I-I´m just tired," she replied evasively.

"Tired how?"

She exhaled a breath, then looked at him. "Dreams."

"Dreams?"

She nodded grimly. "Slayer dreams. I´ve been having them every night and they´ve been keeping me awake. I keep seeing someone...something in the halls. I don´t know who it is or what it is, but it´s always looking for something and I know it´s looking for Dawnie...I try to catch it, but every time I get close, I wake up."

"Any clue what it might be?"

Buffy shook her head. "All I know is that it´s got glowing eyes and that it keeps whispering that `Soon, my time will come and all the masks will be dropped´," she answered, running a hand over her face.

"You´ve told Watcher-man, right?"

"Everything I can," she said.

"Well, why don´t you get that Snape bloke to make up a batch of potion to let you sleep without dreams or something," the vampire suggested. "I mean, you look like you could do with a good night´s rest, luv, and he´s probably the only one who could give you a hand."

Rubbing her eyes, the Slayer nodded. "I-I guess I could do that."

"And you have no intention of doing that," Spike retorted. "You don´t want to ask the bloke for anything, do you?"

"Spike, it´s the end of term. All the teachers are real busy," Buffy said quietly. "I don´t wanna take up anyone´s time. I can deal with the dreams. I´ve been doing it for five years and if I can´t deal by now..." He gave her a look. "Okay, okay, if they don´t stop by next week, I´ll ask Snapey."

"You do that, Slayer," the vampire said, squeezing her arm. "I hate seeing you worn out like this."

Buffy smiled wearily at him. "Thanks, Spike."

"Not a problem, Slayer," he answered, returning the smile as he stood back up. "You just take care, all right?"

"Yeah," she said. "I´ll be fine."

***

"I don´t like this."

Two weeks had passed since the invasion of the school had occurred and since the new protection charms had been added around the whole building, preventing anything else from breaking in.

Once again, Dawn Summers and Duncan Cameron were in the girls´ toilets in the second floor corridor, checking on the potion that Dawn was brewing and had been for several weeks without his knowledge.

"You´re such a baby," Dawn snorted derisively. "It´s not like I´m making you go into the Chamber of Secrets or anything. You just have to test the potion..." She held out a bubbling cup to him. "Go on."

Duncan looked at it uneasily. "I don´t know, Dawnie..."

"Hey, at least you´re only gonna turn into me, right?" She grinned at him. "What could be wrong with that?"

Reluctantly swilling the lumpy substance around in the glass, he looked at her. "Are you gonnae take any of it then?" he asked. "I mean, I´m no´ gonnae be the only one takin´ this stuff."

"Babyman," Dawn rolled her eyes and reached up, grabbing several strands from his floppy brown hair. She picked up another cup, dropping the hairs in and ladled some of the lumpy polyjuice potion into it. "Okay...on three...one, two, three..."

Both of them took several gulps of the potion.

"Oh my gaaaaaaaaaawd!" Duncan wailed, fleeing for the nearest toilet.

Dawn had to agree with him, the half-full cup slipping from her hand and bouncing on the stone floor, splattering the remains of the potion at her feet, as pain shot through her body.

It felt like her bones were twisting and wriggling under her skin, which seemed to be stretching. Her joints started making strange, clicking sounds, her muscles twitching and she gasped, doubling over.

Prickles ran over her scalp and forehead. She saw her hair shrink upwards, shaking fingers grasping at it as it got shorter, until it drooped over her eyes in a loose fringe and that was when she realised she found she could straighten up without pain.

Looking down at her body, she clapped her hands to her mouth to try to smother a fit of giggles, as she recognised Duncan´s hairy legs sticking out from beneath her knee-length grey skirt.

It didn´t work and the giggles that escaped her mouth sounded bizarre, lower than her own, ringing off the walls of the bathroom.

"This isn´t funny," her own voice rang out from the toilet cubicle.

"It so is!" she called back in Duncan´s lower voice. Omigod! This was so cool! She quickly added. "You look good in a skirt!"

"I WHAT!?!" Duncan burst out of the cubicle, one hand holding his baggy trousers up around Dawn´s waist, which was much slimmer than his own. Duncan wasn´t fat, but he did have the build for playing a tough, resilient beater on a Quidditch team.

Blue eyes stared at the replica of his own body in disbelief, while Dawn did a little pirouette, making him moan in abject horror at the nightmare vision that was playing out in front of him.

"You look good," she said, grinning.

"I look like an idiot."

Dawn laughed. "Don´t worry, Duncan," she soothed. "It wears off in an hour."

Duncan´s expression looked the same whether it was on her face or his own. "A-a-an hour?"

"Yuh-huh," Adjusting the waistband of her skirt, Dawn looked at him. Her own features had gone white as a sheet and Duncan was leaning against the doorframe of the nearest toilet cubicle. "What´s up?"

"Us...we´re stuck like this...for an hour?"

"Yeah. And?"

"And," Duncan whimpered. "We have potions in ten minutes!"

Dawn´s face mirrored his. "Oh crap!"

"You bloody well could say that! What are we goin´ tae do?"

Dawn couldn´t help giggling as Duncan´s normal pronunciation slipped into her own accent. "We...we could always skip the class, I guess," she suggested. The look on his face said that was worse than being in her body. "Or not..." Chewing on her lip, she looked down at her body, then at him. "Quick! Take your clothes off!"

"I bloody well will not!"

Dawn rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "If we´re gonna make it to potions, do you want everyone to see you running around the school in a skirt, doofus? I mean, not you-you, but me-you."

"But you...I´ll see your...parts...naked..."

"OH!" Dawn felt heat burning up her face and tried not to look as flustered as she felt. "Uh..." She gave him a helpless look. "Could you...y´know get dressed with your eyes closed?"

"I-I could try," he agreed. "We-we should go in cubicles next to each other...pass the clothes under the partition."

"Yeah..."

They both ran into the neighbouring cubicles and Dawn hastily stripped off the shoes, shirt and skirt, pushing them under the partition as quickly as she could. She tried to avoid looking at her underpants, which felt a lot tighter than usual. She hastily unfastened the bra that was cutting in under her rib-cage.

"Duncan?"

"Aye?"

"Do you want my bra?"

There was a silence only broken by a demented giggle from Myrtle, two cubicles further down.

"Dawn, I really didnae need to have ye ask me that," Duncan mumbled, but he still stuck a hand under the partition and claimed it anyway. A few seconds later, he cautiously asked. "Er...how do ye put it on? I mean, I´m no´ lookin´ at...them, cos I´ve got me eyes closed..."

"Get it the right way around, put your arms through the straps and pull it on. How hard is that?"

"You don´t want tae know," Duncan muttered.

There were several bumps and curses from Duncan´s side of the partition as his elbows apparently banged against the sides of the cubicle in his struggle to fasten the odd piece of woman´s clothing.

Five minutes later, they emerged from their respective cubicles and Dawn looked him up and down. "I guess you´ll do," she said, tucking the shirt into the trousers she now wore. "How do I look?"

Duncan looked her up and down. "Uncomfortable," he replied.

"Huh?"

"You´ve got your feet three foot apart, Dawnie."

Going pink, Dawn shifted a little. "Well, I´m kinda...not used to having...stuff in the way down there," she mumbled. Duncan grinned at her, then rolled his shoulders, his grin contorting into a grimace. "What?"

"How do you wear these things? They´re some kind torture device!"

"You think a bra is uncomfortable?"

Duncan tossed his head in her direction, her hair flying everywhere. "Like, duh!"

"I so do not sound like that!" she exclaimed.

"Do too!"

"Ock aye, laddie?"

"Hey! I dinnae sound like that!"

Dawn pressed her eyes shut for a long moment. "We´re never gonna get away with this," she said, trying to decide whether to laugh or cry. "I bet Snape´ll work it out as soon as we go in."

"Aye, because you´re no afraid of him and I am!"

"And the potion! It´ll wear off before class finishes!"

"Oh crap! Then he´ll know we´ve been doin´ stuff we shouldn´t have!"

Dawn looked down at the cauldron that was still bubbling in the toilet. "There´s only one thing we can do," she said, giving him a hopeless look. "We have to take enough to get us through the hour."

"Take it? Now?"

"No," Dawn replied. "Take it with us and try not to let Snape catch us with it."

Duncan whimpered. "We´re gonnae die. He´s gonnae kill us."

"Oooh, yes!" Myrtle´s head poked through the door of her toilet. "That would be good, wouldn´t it? And," She gave Duncan-in-Dawn´s-form a coy look. "If you get your own body back before you die, you can always come and share my cubicle. There´s plenty of room for two..."

"Omigod..." From her position, kneeling at the cauldron, ladling potion into little bottles that had once held ingredients, Dawn grimaced. "I so didn´t need to see what Myrtle flirting with me would look like..."

"Dawnie..."

A broad grin spread on the replicas of Duncan´s lips, the mischievous glimmer in the eyes pure Dawn Summers. "You know," she said, tossing him one of the bottles, which he hid in his - or her - robes. "This could be fun."

"Or suicidal," Duncan offered.

"Nah," Dawn laughed, closing the door on the bubbling cauldron and taking Duncan by the arm. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, a sign that classes were about to start. Grabbing their bags from the sink, Dawn grinned. "It´ll be great!"

"I wish I had yer optimism," Duncan mumbled.

"Instead of my boobs?"

"Dawnie!"

***

Looking up from the register as the class piled into the classroom, Severus Snape arched an eyebrow as Summers Junior and Cameron stumbled through the door and immediately took up a position in the back row of desks.

They were practically steeped in the shadows and would barely have been visible to anyone who didn´t know every subtle nuance of the layout and lighting patterns of the dark classroom.

Summers Junior hiding at the back?

Well, well, something odd was certainly afoot.

Both of them seemed to be paying a lot more attention than usual to how tidy their desk was, neither of them looking in his direction, although he did notice Cameron nudging Summers Junior several times.

After checking the register and setting them to a task of working on a wit-sharpening potion, a standard potion that should be to all the fourth years abilities, Snape let his eyes drift back to his protégé at the back of the class.

Hands that were shaking wildly were hacking ginger roots blindly, although - he noted with amused interest - Cameron seemed to have got over the shakes that always assailed him as soon as he entered the dungeon classroom.

How very...interesting.

Drifting around the class, the room stuffy with fumes and the nervous scent of thirty teenagers, the only sound that reached Snape´s ears were the bubbling sounds of the cauldrons, the crackles of the fires and...whispering.

His eyes hooded, he searched out the culprits.

Somehow, he was not surprised, as Cameron whispered to Summers Junior, while swapping perfectly cut roots and ground scarab beetles with the horribly butchered roots that Summers had in front of her.

Without catching their attention, he circled around, coming to a halt directly behind Cameron and spoke quietly, almost directly in the boy´s ear, "And just what do you think you´re doing, Mr Cameron?"

Summers went rigid, but Cameron turned and looked up at him. There was no trace of fright of surprise on his features. "I-I-I was kinda helping D...Dawnie, sir," The stammer was clearly faked, but it was very convincing. "She didn´t...didnae know how to cut her roots properly."

"Indeed, Cameron," Snape smirked. The boy´s lips turned up in a smirk, which was quickly covered up with a sulky scowl. Oh, she was good. She was very good. "And you, Summers," Summers squeaked. "Tell me, how did you manage to produce a year seven potion three days ago and yet, now, you cannot even cut some roots."

Summers mouth opened and closed silently several times. "I-I-I..."

"Some time this millennium would be pleasant, Summers," he drawled, watching for Cameron´s reaction out of the corner of his eye. He recognised the stubborn glare that was etched on the boy´s face.

"Quit being mean to him!"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Him?"

Cameron blinked. "Oh! Her! Right! I meant her!" The boy shifted from foot to foot, wiggling his hips a little. With one hand, he tugged at the waistband of the trousers, a grimace crossing his face.

"What on earth are you doing, Cameron?"

Blue eyes looked up at him innocently. "My trousers are a bit tight, sir," he replied, a moan of anguish escaping Summers Junior. "I kinda..." The boy was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I kinda grew since last night."

Severus was hard-pressed to quash a genuine laugh at the smug look on Cameron´s borrowed features. No doubt, that was the little brat´s intention. "Indeed," was the only reply he gave though.

It had to be one word, or he would have laughed, he knew.

Behind him, Summers was scarlet, her face buried in her hands.

"Summers? You´re ill?"

"I-I-I´m not...um...that is..."

"You, perhaps, are...not feeling yourself, Miss Summers?" he suggested mildly, a slight lift of one side of his mouth serving more effectively than the widest of grins, his eyes glittering with amusement.

Two pairs of blue eyes stared at him in shock.

Feigning ignorance to what he had just said, he looked down at the pile of butchered roots, then at the girl. "Summers, perhaps you should take Cameron´s generous offer of assistance. My hopes for you as a potions mistress are clearly in vain."

With that, he swept off, leaving them exchanging bemused looks.

He had implied that he had caught them out, and yet, he had also just blasted that idea to pieces, leaving two very confused teenagers gawping in his wake, making him grin inwardly.

The mind of the teenager was a complicated thing and yet, it could still be befuddled with such ease, it was almost child´s play.

***

Tidying up their potions equipment and cleaning out their cauldron, Duncan and Dawn managed to take their second dose of polyjuice, apparently without being noticed by their Professor.

"D´you think he knows?" Duncan asked in a whisper, as they piled their notes into each other´s bags.

Dawn shot a furtive look at Snape, who was marking notes in a hefty book on his desk. "I´m not sure," she replied softly. "I think he does, but he´s pretending not to, to confuse us and make us do something stupid to give ourselves away."

"Huh?"

"Now, you´re starting to sound like me," Dawn laughed, receiving a pointed glare from her friend. "Look, if Snapey figured there was something up and he was mad at us about it, he woulda called us outta the class before, wouldn´t he?"

"Well...aye..."

Dawn shuddered. "Okay, that sounded so not right!"

"And you talking with my voice did?"

They exchanged grins, knowing full well that this had to be one of the most surreal days that they had ever had, which was really saying something at Hogwarts.

Gathering the last of their notes up and stacking them together, they piled everything else that was left over into their bags, following the communal scrum towards the door of the classroom.

"Mr Cameron," Snape´s voice spoke quietly from the front of the class. Duncan and Dawn both whipped around, exchanging anxious glances. Snape looked up from the book, his expression unreadable. "A word, if you don´t mind."

"Oh crap," Duncan squeaked. "What do we do?"

Dawn nodded to the door. "Go back to Myrtle´s toilet. I´ll be there as soon as I can."

"But..."

"Go on," she insisted firmly. "I´ll be okay."

Reluctantly, with one last look at Snape, who had turned his attention back to the marks book, Duncan took her bag and followed the rest of the class out of the door, closing the door behind him.

"So..."

Snape said nothing, did even less.

It seemed like several minutes had past before he spoke.

"Come."

Approaching the desk, she assumed what she hoped was a vaguely Duncan-esque stance, wondering if she was going to be in a lot of trouble if he had worked out who she really was.

After all, if he hadn´t worked it out, he would have to be real stupid and Snapey was hardly a stupid guy.

"Tell me, Mr Cameron," his intonation of the words were laced with sarcasm. "How did it feel to actually be adept at potions for once?" He raised his eyes slowly from the book and met Dawn´s. "Or, should I say, as efficient as usual?"

"I dinnae know what you mean."

"That really was a frightfully dire approximation of a Scottish accent, was it not, Miss Summers?" Snape remarked, laying his quill down. There was a definite amused twinkle in his black eyes.

Dawn shrugged, grinning. "I guess so."

"And you decided on coming to my class in his form when exactly?"

"Uh...well...we kinda took the potion before we remembered that we had a class..."

"And how long have you been working on this little project?" He arched a brow at her questioningly.

"For a month," she replied cheerfully. "But, duh, you knew that anyways, since you know that polyjuice takes a month to make, oh all knowing Potions Professor."

"And your source for boomslang skin and bicorn?"

She rounded her eyes at him. "I just used the stuff you gave me, Professor Snape."

"I wonder, Miss Summers," he remarked, smirking a little as he lifted his quill from the book. "How would your gullible little friend appreciate it, if I gave him detention for his cheek in this lesson?"

"No! You can´t do that to Duncan!"

"Pray tell, why not?"

"Because he didn´t do anything!"

"Alas, we have witnesses to prove otherwise, don´t we, Miss Summers?" he said calmly. "Now, if you don´t mind, if you wish to prevent your friend from humiliation, I would suggest you inform me where you find your supplies."

"Um..."

"Am I to assume that it is from a source, who is unaware that you have been raiding his supplies?"

"You could kinda...maybe say that...kinda..."

"And who, Miss Summers, might this source be?"

***

"Hey, Dawnie! Dawnie! Wait up!"

Duncan wasn´t aware of the voice hailing him, until a hand grabbed his shoulder and he spun around to find Professor Summers smiling at him. It felt like the bottom of his belly had dropped out.

Like every other boy in his class, he had briefly had a crush on the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and now, she was up close and she looked too pretty, in black and red combination, although tired.

All the teachers had been looking tired lately, but especially Professor Summers, McGonagall and Giles.

"H-h-hi."

Summers gave him an odd look. "What´s up with you?"

"Up? With me?" Duncan hoped that Dawn´s voice didn´t sound as terrified as he thought it did. "I-I-I just had potions."

Professor Summers rolled her eyes ceilingwards. "And I bet that cranky I´m-an-evil-fiend-so-fear-me-cos-I-wear-black jerk has been picking on you, just because you´re related to me again, right?"

"Er...aye...aye, you could say that."

"Dawnie, I think you´ve been spending too much time with that Scottish kid," the Professor laughed. "You´re even starting to use a Scottish accent!" She raised a hand and ruffled Dawn´s hair. "It´s so cute."

"Er...thanks..."

Another odd look was directed at him. "Thanks? Are you feeling all right?"

"Actually," Duncan fished around for a desperate excuse. "Er...I´ve got a...er...I´ve got a stomach ache..."

Professor Summers studied him, a deeply suspicious look on her face. "Uh huh...and what were you doing here, instead of going back to the dorm like you were meant to? You know you´re meant to be hiding out here."

"Hiding out?" All right, Duncan was officially puzzled.

Summers raised a hand and touched his forehead. "Are you sure you haven´t hit your head or sniffed too many potions fumes or anything?" she inquired, sounding a little worried. "You can´t have forgotten that Glory´s still looking for you!"

"Glory?" What was going on here? Who was this Glory-person? Why was she looking for Dawn? Why had Dawn been sent to Hogwarts for protection? Yes, they had been told she was a visiting student, but that was as far as it went.

Before Summers could ask another question, they both looked around at running footsteps coming towards them, down the long hallway.

Duncan´s physical form ran around the corner and almost collided with them, blue eyes going wide at the sight of Professor Summers standing there, hands on her hips and a questioning look on her face. "Buffy!"

"Duncan, right?" Hazel eyes narrowed a little.

"Uh...right...yeah...I was just looking for Dawnie..."

"I was just telling her about my stomach upset," Duncan interrupted quickly.

Dawn - through his eyes - gave him a look, then turned back to her sister. "Yeah! We were going to go to Madam Pomfrey to get something for it, but Snapey kept me back for speaking out in class."

"You? Speaking in class?" Summers had never looked more skeptical."In Snapey´s class, Duncan? You hardly even speak in my class."

"I did it because Dawnie couldn´t," Dawn replied stoutly. "Can...can we go now? I mean, Dawnie isn´t looking real well." Duncan immediately let out a piteous moan and clutched his stomach. "Please?"

"I guess...Dawnie, I´ll see you back at our room, okay?"

"Aye," Duncan replied, as Dawn grabbed his arm and hauled him off. He had never been more relieved in his life to be away from a teacher. He was convinced that, if she had looked into his eyes, she would have known he wasn´t who he appeared to be.

Something told him that they wouldn´t have been able to pull the wool over her eyes for long.

"Why aren´t you at the bathroom already?" Dawn hissed, as they ran up the staircase towards the second floor corridor and towards the toilets. "It doesn´t take ten minutes to get from Snapey´s room to the bathroom."

Duncan went red. "I got kinda...lost," he replied sheepishly. "And then, your sister showed up."

"I guess I can forgive you then," Dawn grinned.

"Dawnie..."

"Yeah?" she looked around at him, as she pushed the door of the toilets open.

Worrying his lower lip, trying to decide if he should ask her what he had been wondering since her sister had spoken to him, he met her eyes. "Who's Glory?"

"How...?" A startled look crossed Dawn´s face.

"Professor Summers mentioned her," Duncan explained. "You don´t have to tell me who she is if you don´t want to..."

Dawn stared at him for a minute, then smiled thinly. "It might kinda help if you know, y´know," she said, motioning him into the bathroom. "Once we change back, we´ll go to my room and I´ll tell you."

***

"I just had the weirdest conversation ever with Dawnie."

Giles, kneeling on the floor, made an incoherent sound of inquiry, rooting through the cupboards that stood just behind the teacher´s desk in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Buffy walked in the door of the class. "Yeah," she said, a thoughtful look on her face. "It was kinda like it wasn´t even Dawnie I was talking to, which is impossible..."

"Of course, of course," Giles nodded, not even looking around. "Where the devil is that blasted box?"

"Box?" Buffy peered down at him. "Whatcha lookin´ for?" She spotted something on the desk, behind a pile of open books at the front of the desk and grinned, recalling what she had heard from Willow about Giles overworking. "Making soup, huh?"

"What?" Giles looked up. "Oh. Not exactly."

His head was stuck back into the cupboard immediately, packets and boxes piling up around him as he raked through the contents of the large cupboard, muttering a liturgy of rather interesting words under his breath.

Peering into the simmering cauldron, Buffy´s nose wrinkled. "Looks like some kinda way funky soup," she remarked. It was a pale, transparent brown with sprinkles of what looked like herbs floating on the surface.

It smelt good though, spicy and savoury.

"Yes, yes," Giles waved distractedly.

Shrugging, Buffy poked the ladle into the cauldron.

"Tastes okay," she gave her opinion, only for Giles to whip around, scrambling onto his feet and staring at her wildly, then at the ladle in her hand. A wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her. "What?"

"You didn´t...oh dear God, Buffy...please tell me you didn´t..."

"Didn´t wha..."

Her words trailed off as the potion took effect and she keeled over in a dead faint.

***

"Severus!"

The door of Snape´s private quarters swung open a heartbeat before Snape looked up to see Giles striding towards him, a fraught look on his face and a bundle gripped securely in his arms. The older man was the only one in the school who knew the password, lest anything happen to Severus, as had been the case the previous month.

"Rupert? I thought you were busy with essays."

"We have a bit of a problem, Severus, and I need you to take care of someone for me, lest there are any side effects."

"Someone? Side effects?"

Giles´ face flushed. "I was brewing a potion in my classroom and since I have been making soups more recently, she assumed that I was making a soup and...well, she should have asked first...dear lord...I don´t even know what the stuff does!"

"What were you attempting to make?"

"A rejuvenating potion," Giles admitted immediately. "None of us have been at our best of late and I was aiming for something that might help. However, my powdered horn of bicorn vanished," That made Severus smirk a little. Hmm. Where could it have gone? "Before I could add it, so she ingested an incomplete potion."

Snape mentally groaned. "And you want me to watch over her?"

"You are the best person to recognise side-effects of various potions and counteract them with your own," Rupert said. "I would rather you watched her, while I try to find an antidote, as I know exactly what was in the substance."

"What happened to the unfortunate girl? Where is she now?"

Giles looked rather sheepish. "Well, she fainted in the classroom and then, the potion actually did work...although not quite as I intended," He opened the bundle in his arms revealing a rosy-cheeked baby of about eight months, gurgling contentedly.

Dear sweet Merlin...

"No!"

"Sev, you´re the only one I would trust with her."

"It´s a bloody baby, Rupert! You know I despise the things! I would rather spend an hour in the company of Summers than touch that thing with a barge pole!"

Green eyes bored dangerously into black. "Sev, this is more important than your petty dislike of small children. If we don´t get her back on her feet, the school may have lost one of its key defences."

"You mean..." Severus eyed the pink...thing that was squirming in Giles´ arms with distaste. "That thing is Summers? You...you´re asking me to watch over a smaller and probably more irritating version of your little hussy."

"Please, Sev, just so I can find out how to get her back to normal."

Before the Potions Professor could answer, the baby was deposited in his arms and Giles was already walking out the gloomy room, exclaiming what a wonderful man Severus was.

Snape made a mental note to poison him.

Shifting the baby, who was wearing little more than one of Giles´ own shirts, he held her under both arms - after struggling for several minutes to get a good grip of the squirming bundle - and glared at her.

She giggled.

Damnit.

Even as a baby, she was bloody irritating.

It was going to be a long evening, he knew.

One of her tiny hands reached out and grabbed his hair and pulled. Hard.

Biting down on his tongue, he smothered the litany of curses that rose - although he couldn´t quite be sure why. It wasn´t as if him swearing would have any effect on her - and tugged her away from his hair, leaving several strands locked in her already-strong little fist.

She stared at him, her enormous hazel eyes seeming to get even bigger.

Her lower lip started quivering.

He could see it coming before it hit, but it was too late to stop it and she released a howl of protest.

"All right, all right!" He brought her closer, offering his hair as a toy, but she seemed to have lost interest in it, screaming with great gusto. Merlin! How could a child fit lungs that powerful into so tiny a torso?

Shaking his hands slightly, trying to jiggle her in the natural manner than mothers seemed to do, he only succeeded in making her howl even more loudly, kicking her plump pink legs and thrash with her tiny fists.

What the devil was he meant to do?

What did he know about babies?

Thinking quickly, he tried to remember what he had seen witches do with their babies and - with some rather awkward negotiation of baby Buffy´s wriggling body - managed to bring his arm underneath her, cradling her against his chest.

One of her hands caught his and yanked it to her mouth. Another storm of curses was hastily silenced when baby teeth bit into his thumb.

"Damnit, Summers," he growled, trying to pull his thumb free, but her grip seemed to be unbreakable.

The chewing gentled, though, and he groaned.

Summers, the annoying little trollop that she was, had shrunk herself into baby form by touching something she shouldn´t have and now, she was cradled in his arms and sucking on his thumb.

Things surely could not get any worse.

Walking across the room, he sat down on the edge of his bed, studying the smaller version of the Slayer. She was hardly blessed in the hair department, wispy tufts of mousey hair standing up here and there and she was plumper than he imagined her being as a baby.

Perhaps because she was so lithe and muscular at present.

Large hazel eyes were growing drowsy and he held his breath hopefully. If she went to sleep, that meant he would be able to lay her down and get on with some work while she slept.

Gradually, her lids drooped shut and Severus tried to place her on the bed without disturbing her.

However, as soon as he withdrew his hands, her eyes snapped open and she started to wail all over again, stretching out her little hands to him.

With a groan, he lifted her back up and held her against his shoulder. Standing up, he paced across the room, one hand under her, the other spread on her back to hold her securely.

"You really are the most obnoxious creature alive, Summers," he murmured to her, as he walked. "Small and blonde and downright irritating no matter what age you happen to be."

He could feel her mouth gnawing on the thick black fabric that covered his shoulder and mentally prayed for mercy from anyone who was listening.

It took nearly half an hour of pacing before the gnawing stopped and another fifteen minutes to assure that she really was asleep. More carefully than before, he made his way back to the bed and placed her in it, drawing the blankets around her.

Straightening up, he looked down at her, checking that she wasn´t about to burst into spectacular fits of tears again.

It didn´t appear so.

With pudgy little hands curled into fists on either side of her head, she was smiling in her sleep. She did appear larger than she had been when Giles had handed her to him, which had to be good. Rupert´s shirt that covered her tiny body looked utterly absurd and Snape was horrified to realise that she actually looked quite adorable.

Turning his attention rapidly from the baby, he hurried back to his desk and tried to focus on the potions essays he had been working through.

***

"Bloody hell..."

"Pretty much."

Duncan stared at Dawn in awe and shock. "I...I...but ye...and she...ye both seem so normal...so...not magical."

They were in Buffy and Dawn´s bedroom and once Duncan had gotten past being impressed at the stunning room, Dawn had sat down and explained everything she could to him.

Buffy would probably be pissed about someone else knowing, but Duncan was her friend and Dawn knew she could trust him.

"That´s kinda the idea, so no one guesses," Dawn admitted quietly. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands squeezed together between her knees, her eyes on her friend, full of fear and worry.

What if Duncan thought she was a freak?

What if he hated her after this?

"Wow..."

"Good wow or...?"

Duncan gave her a lop-sided grin. "Big good," he replied. "I mean really wow! The Vampire Slayer is real and she´s your sister and she´s our Professor! And you - you´re a magical being! Super-magical!"

"You don´t think I´m just a big freak?"

"Nah!" Approaching the bed, he sat down beside her and gave her a shy grin. "Ye´re Dawnie, no matter where ye came from. I like ye as Dawnie and everyone else likes ye as Dawnie. Yer not just a key or whatever it is people say ye are."

Laying her head on his shoulder, she grinned at him. "You´re real sweet, y´know."

"Och, I don´t know about that..." he mumbled, going a deep shade of crimson. They sat in silence for several minutes, then he hesitantly asked. "Do ye want tae see if we can go down to the games room for a while?"

"Sure! We can get Spike!"

The boy laughed. "I still cannae believe that we have a vampire in the school..."

"Not many people know and Spike isn´t really a proper vampire anymore, anyway, but he´s still so cool."

"Yeah," Duncan agreed grinning. "Kinda like the perfect big brother, eh?"

"Exactly," Dawn said. "Only, with fangs."

***

The whimpering was growing louder.

Laying down his quill, Snape turned to check on the infant, who now lay where baby Buffy had been lying. Over a couple of hours, she had grown from the baby form into that of a toddler, so he assumed that the potion was simply wearing off.

The bed was empty and a very drowsy and tearful four-year-old was standing on the floor, rubbing her eyes. Giles´ shirt was hanging down to her feet and her mousey hair had grown into blonde curls around her round face.

"Where´s my mommy?" she asked plaintively. "I want my mommy."

Sliding off the stool, Severus mentally imagined all the unpleasant things he was going to do to Giles when he got hold of him. Going down on one knee, he tried to force a friendly expression onto his face, but gave up.

"Your mother had to go out for a little while, Summers," he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could. He didn´t want another screaming fit, if he could help it. "She asked me to watch you until she returned."

Moist hazel eyes blinked up at him. "I´m not Summers," she said, sniffing. "I´m Buffy, silly. Who´re you?"

"You may call me Snape."

"That´s a silly name," she mumbled. A hand rubbed under her runny nose, smearing the excretions over her hand and Snape groaned. How he had always hated the habits of children, ever since he was one.

Withdrawing a handkerchief from his robes, he lifted her hand away and wiped it clean, then held out the handkerchief. "Blow your nose, little one," he said. She stared at him in confusion. He exhaled a half-sigh, half-groan and held the kerchief around her little button of a nose. "Blow."

The resulting sound was somewhere between a squeak and a snort.

"Better?"

"Uh-huh," she replied, rubbing her eyes with her other hand.

"And now, why are you up? You were meant to be asleep."

"I-I-I had a bad dream."

"A bad dream?" She nodded. "Well, it´s finished now. Go back to bed."

Her round eyes filled with tears and she started sniffing again. "It was scary," she whispered. "Mommy and daddy were yelling at each another again...I don´t like it when mommy and daddy yell..."

Mommy and daddy yell?

If he was right, the dreams of the child before him were drawn from the memories Summers would have had at that age. He had heard her talk about her mother before, but never her father.

"What did they say, little one?"

"Daddy was being mean..." she whispered. "Daddy said he was going to leave us... that he wished he had a better family..."

Then, much to Severus´ dismay, she started to cry.

If anything, this was worse than the screaming.

She stood there, in the middle of his private chamber, shivering and looking utterly pitiful in the oversized grey shirt, with huge, fat tears rolling down her chubby pink cheeks and dripping onto the floor.

"Come now," he patted her on the shoulder. "It´ll be all right."

Her shiny, pink lower lip quivered. The tears increased in quantity. "I want my mommy, Mr Snape. It-it-it´s not nice here. It´s cold and it´s dark and I had a scary dream and I want my mommy..."

She could have melted the coldest heart in the world with those few words.

He had to distract her. Anything to stop the tears, which were making him rather uncomfortable. "You are cold, child?" She nodded. "Would you like to see a magic trick that will allow you to get warm as well?"

"M-magic?"

Standing up, he motioned for her to follow him around the chair that stood near the mantle. Withdrawing his wand, he pointed it at the dark fire place and conjured a blazing fire, which immediately flooded the room with warm, flickering light.

"Ooooh! That was magic!"

"Indeed," he replied. "Now, perhaps, Miss Summers, you would like to sit in the chair and get warm, while I do some work?"

The tiny blonde girl looked up at him as if she had been betrayed in some way. "I-I can´t sit on my own, Mr Snape," she whispered. "Mommy doesn´t like me sitting by the fire on my own."

Typical.

Just typical.

A small hand rose and grasped his. Dear Merlin! She hadn´t been joking when she said she was cold. Her tiny hand felt like it was made of ice!

Summoning one of his old, but less used robes that were far too small for him, he put them on the little version of Summers. While he had not worn them for years, he had kept them for sentimental reasons, a gift from his late grandmother.

They would no doubt dwarf the tiny girl, but they were the smallest thing he had.

"This is a funny dress," she commented. "Where´d you get `em?"

"They are robes, child," he explained, tucking them snugly around her, the thick, midnight blue fabric pooling around her little feet on the floor. "They were made for me by my grandmother."

"They´re pretty," she decided firmly, as he rolled up the long sleeves so her hands could be seen. "I like blue. It´s my favouritest colour of all. Blue is pretty. Do you like blue? I don´t think you do cos you´re wearing all black and it´s not blue. Do you like blue?"

"You talk rather a lot, little one."

"Uh-huh," she agreed cheerfully. "Mommy says so too. I like talking cos talking is how you can know people and I wanna know who you are, so I´m talking to you to see who you are and do you like blue?"

"I suppose I can tolerate it," he replied, trying desperately not to smile at her childish prattling, despite all his best efforts. She really was an annoyingly adorable little creature. "Now, would you like to go back to bed?"

Summers´ face fell. "I thought we were gonna sit in the big seat," she said, pointing at it with a tiny finger. "Can I sit on your lap?"

"I really ought to..."

"Please can we sit in the big chair, Mr Snape?" Eyes that were far too big and pleading and which should have been classed as illegal weapons of persuasion were directed at him.

Harrumphing his irritation, he reluctantly acquiesced, sitting down in the large, dark leather chair and lifting the four-year-old Summers into his lap. She squealed with glee and snuggled against him, her tiny feet pulled up inside the warm robes.

"All right," he said, looking down at her. "What now?"

"Can I ask you stuff? I like asking stuff! It means I can find out things, so can I ask you stuff?"

"I suppose you might," he sighed.

"Okay..." Her face screwed up in concentration, as she thought. "Okay! I wanna ask you...why are you looking after me? Why isn´t Mrs Snape looking after me? I mean, mommy always gets ladies to look after me, so why did she get you instead of Mrs Snape? Is there a Mrs Snape or..."

"No." He cut off her question, partially amused, partially uncomfortable with this particular line of questioning. "There is no Mrs Snape. I was asked to watch over you, as a favour to a friend."

"Oh...why?"

"Why what?"

"Why isn´t there a Mrs Snape?"

Snape looked down at her pensively. What harm could it do to answer? "Because I did not require one."

"Huh?"

"I did not need a wife."

"Why?" Summers asked, staring at him out of those irritatingly large eyes. She sounded horrified by the concept. "Don´t you love nobody, Mr Snape? Does nobody love you neither? That´s real sad! Aren´t you sad that you don´t love nobody?"

"I have never needed to, little one, and I am not the most loveable of people, so - if someone were mentally imbalanced enough," She looked blank. "If anyone were crazy enough to care for me," he corrected. "I would probably scare them away."

"But you´re nice!"

Snape snorted at the thought. "I am most assuredly not nice, little one."

"Yuh-huh! You did magic and wrapped me in your funny dress and made me all cosy warm and you´re looking after me!"

"That doesn´t mean I am nice, child."

Hazel eyes studied him. "I like you," she said firmly. "And I think you´re nice."

"You are quite insane, child," he sighed. How very ironic that the four-year-old Summers liked him and yet, the twenty-year-old version made it her life´s pursuit to drive him up the wall.

A yawn from the tiny creature in his lap made him look down.

Summers was cosily burrowing into his chest, smacking her lips sleepily. Her hands gripped into the front of his waistcoat as she rubbed her cheek against his chest, making herself comfortable.

Wonderful.

Just marvellous.

Summers had decided that she was going to sleep in his lap and was getting a good grip on his clothing, so he knew that he wouldn´t be able to shake her off and place her in the bed.

Laying his head against the back of the chair, he lowered his eyes to the little girl who was presently snuggled against his chest. How, he wondered, could she go from being almost likeable to being the irritating creature she was now?

Raising a hand, he stroked the girl´s tumbling blonde curls back from her face, almost smiling when she shifted and swatted at his hand, even though she was nearly asleep as it was.

She really was painfully likeable.

***

Muttering the password to Severus´ chambers, Giles peered into the room.

It wasn´t quite as dark or cold as usual, which surprised him. There was a small fire crackling quietly in the grate and he could see one of Severus´ hands resting on the arm of the chair in front of it.

Where Buffy was, he had no idea.

He had spent nearly four hours trying to solve the riddle of what the potion did and had finally come to the conclusion that what he had effectively made was a youth potion that wore off by the hour.

Approaching the chair that Severus was seated in, he rounded it and immediately stopped short, his eyes going round.

While he had seen many unnatural and bizarre things in his life, nothing could quite contend with the absurd image that was now being presented to him in all it´s three dimensional glory.

Severus looked like he was asleep where he sat and comfortably so. That would have been a strange sight to see in itself.

However, it was the sight of five-year-old Buffy, fast asleep, clad in Giles´ grey shirt and in a large set of deep blue robes, cuddled against Severus´ chest, one of his arms around her.

"Comment on this," the Potions Professor muttered, making Giles jump. "And I will hex you into next week."

"You´re awake."

"How observant you are," Severus opened his eyes and sat up a little, which served to disturb the little girl asleep in his lap. Buffy whimpered in protest and snuggled closer against him. "I hope you have come to take her back."

"And disturb her when she is clearly so peaceful?"

"Giles," Severus growled.

The former watcher chuckled. "Of course I´ve come to take her back, Sev. Do you honestly think I´d be cruel enough to leave her to deal with you when she turned back into herself?"

Scowling at Giles, Snape turned his attention back to the child in his lap. "Little one," He gently shook her, until her hazel eyes opened and she squinted drowsily up at him. "Your uncle Rupert has come to take you back to your own room."

"NO!"

"Miss Summers..."

"I don´t wanna go with him! I wanna stay with you!"

Giles smothered a snort of laughter, which made Snape glare at him. "Sorry."

"I´m afraid you can´t stay here, child," Severus said to the mini-Buffy, who was glaring petulantly at Giles, her arms crossed over her chest. "I have a great deal of work to do and Mr Giles will be able to show you some more magic."

"Magic?" Buffy looked Giles up and down, her little nose wrinkling. "Nuh-uh. I don´t like him. He looks mean. I wanna stay with you. You´re nice."

By now, Giles was practically having to bite through his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud, while Severus looked like he was getting to the stage of wanting to hurl the child at the former Watcher´s head.

"Very well, child," Snape stood up, Buffy clinging to him like a little blonde limpet, her arms around his neck. "If you are going to stay here, you will have to take a little of my medicine, to be sure you don´t catch a cold."

"Medicine?" Buffy echoed dubiously. "Medicine is icky."

"You can stay and take medicine, or you can go with my friend, your uncle Rupert and he will give you chocolate."

"Oooh! Chocolate!" Buffy´s eyes lit up. "Will you give me candy, Mister Giles?"

Giles nodded, unable to speak for fear of bursting out laughing.

"But..." Her wide eyes went back to Severus, who bent to deposit her on her feet on the floor. "You´ll be all on your own again, Mr Snape! I don´t wanna leave you on your own."

"I assure you I will be quite all right, Miss Summers," he said, giving her a gentle push towards Giles. She stopped and came back to his side, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. "What?"

"C´mere," she whispered, tugging his hand again. "I wanna tell you a secret."

Sighing, Snape went down on one knee, little Buffy barely even standing the same height as his shoulder. "Well?"

Looking suspiciously up at Giles, she stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I don´t want you to be so sad no more. I´ll love you, Mr Snape, even if nobody else does." A stunned look crossed his face and it only got worse when smacked a wet kiss on his cheek.

Above them, Giles was shuddering with the violence of his silenced laughter.

"Off with you, child," Severus snapped gruffly, standing back up.

Giles lifted the child up, ignoring her glare, and smirked at Severus. "Well, Sev, I must admit I´m impressed."

"Would you be so kind as to leave me? Now."

The watcher looked down at the sleepy girl, who looked like she was already about to fall asleep against his shoulder. "What about the robes she´s wearing?" he asked, raising his eyes.

Snape looked at them.

"Let her keep them," he said finally, raising a hand to brush the girl´s golden curls back from her cheeks again. "Although, when the potion wears off, I doubt she´ll remember any of this evening. Do not inform her where they came from. She..." A faint smile curved his lips up. "She likes blue, therefore I believe they will be better used by her than I."

Giles nodded, all expression of mirth disappearing from his face. "Thank you for looking after her, Sev," he said sincerely.

"It was certainly...enlightening," Snape admitted quietly. "Good night, Rupert."

That said, he turned around and sat back down in the chair before the fire, letting the watcher and the young Buffy depart, leaving the quiet room steeped in silence and solitude once again.