The Eighth Weasley

THE POWER OF TWO

Notes: Okay. Again an awkward chapter to write. I had two slightly different trains of thought regarding the Buffy/Snape incident in the previous chapter and - as I type these notes - I´m still swithering over which to use. I´m sure it´ll work out, cos I know where I´m leading, but both of them are so fun...

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Stretching luxuriously, Buffy yawned, arching her back and flexing her arms and legs until they ached in the way that feels so good as soon as you relax.

Which was when she became aware of something.

Of more than one something as a matter of fact.

One: if she could judge her body clock as well as she usually could, it was afternoon, which struck her as strange because she never slept past seven o´clock in the morning, even if it was the weekend.

Two: she could hear voices in the room, which seldom happened, because she had always attempted to keep their room concealed, lest someone accidentally betray Dawn´s whereabouts to Glory.

Three: she felt alive. Not just newly-woken-and-a-little-drowsy alive, but caught-up-on-sleep-in-a-big-way-and-have-recharged-all-internal-batteries-to-full-power kind of alive. She was thrumming with energy, more than she had felt for days.

Four: Probably most importantly, she could sense a vampire in the near vicinity, but she definitely wasn´t getting `bad´ vibes.

Sitting up, rubbing her eyes drowsily, she pulled open the drapes around her bed to see Dawn, Spike and Duncan seated on the floor, apparently playing a rather obtuse version of poker with exploding snap cards.

A pile of singed and burnt cards lay to one side.

"Evening, ducks," Spike saluted her. That explained the vampire-feeling and the non-threat instinct. "Feeling better?"

"Spike?"

"Well," the vampire commented to Duncan. "That proves she´s awake, don´t it?"

Dawn reached over and smacked him on the head. "Spike! She just woke up! Don´t be mean to her until she´s awake properly."

Pushing her sleep-tangled hair back from her face, uncaring of how unkempt she looked to one of her pupils, she swung her legs out of the bed and pushed her feet into her slippers. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded, scratching her head.

"Giles put me on guard duty," the vampire replied with a grin.

"Giles did what? In my bedroom?" she squeaked. "Okay, that´s it. I´m killing him."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Buffy, you were pretty much unconscious," she said. "Giles just figured that I would be way safer having Spike as my guard dog until you were awake again. And Duncan just came along so Spike could teach us poker."

"Un...conscious? How long have I been out?"

"Don´t worry about it, Slayer," Spike replied, placing a card down and pulling his hand back quickly when it exploded with a deafening bang. "Although, how you could sleep through nine games of this..."

Buffy blinked at him, having a little trouble remembering just how she had got from the classroom, to her bedroom, into her...wait a second...why was she wearing a large grey shirt and not much else?

"Okay," she snapped. "What´s going on?"

"Told you she was cranky when she woke up," Dawn muttered to Duncan, who was keeping his eyes safely down. "Buffy, you drank one of Giles´ potions on Friday night and it pretty much knocked you out."

"Knocked me out how?"

Spike shrugged. "Watcher-man didn´t go into details," he replied. "Just said that he was trying to find something that would freshen us all up a bit and you got to it before it was finished. Whatever it was, it helped you get some sleep."

"How much sleep...exactly?"

Looks were exchanged.

"Um..."

"Well..."

Buffy crossed her arms, tapping her bunny-slippered right foot. "Guys..."

"It´s kinda...Monday afternoon," Dawn finally answered, cringing as if she expected to be yelled at.

"Monday? As in Monday-Monday? As in three days after Friday?"

"Yuh-huh...?"

Running a hand over her face, Buffy shook her head. "I don´t believe this..." she muttered in disbelief, looking from Dawn to Spike and back. "You let me sleep for three whole days?"

"It...wasn´t exactly a matter of letting you sleep, Slayer. It was a matter of you not waking up."

"Once more, in American."

"You wouldn´t wake up," Dawn interrupted quickly. "Giles tried pretty much everything to wake you up. Potions, spells, throwing you in a bath full of cold water... or that´s what he told us."

"You didnae hear us playin´ with the explodin´ decks, either," Duncan added. "It would have woken the dead and you slept through it."

Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to take this information in. "Okay... so I´ve been asleep for three days..."

"And you´re looking a lot better for it," Spike said with a wink.

"Spike! Now is so not a good time to be saying stuff like that!" Buffy wailed, looking like she desperately wanted to throw something at his head. "I need to know what I´ve missed! Has anything happened? Did anyone find out anything new? What´s the what?"

"Well..."

"Yeah?"

Dawn looked down at her cards. "We accidentally burnt the staff room down and blew up half the suits of armour in the halls..." Duncan leaned over and whispered something to her. "And caused a flood in the dungeons...and...what was that thing called again? With the hitting tree...?"

Buffy looked hopelessly at Spike. "Please tell me they´re joking..."

Spike grinned. "Of course they are, Slayer," he replied, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. "But, on a serious note, Red and the Prof upstairs are humping like bunnies on a regular basis."

Reaching down, the Slayer slapped him across the head, with a cry of, "Spike! Like that would happen!"

Unfortunately, with her somewhat renewed strength, an average Buffy-style slap across the head now sent the vampire flying across the room and he smacked into the wall with a thump, before landing in a heap on the floor.

Dawn shrieked and Duncan swore in ways that no fourteen year should know how.

"Oh crap!" Buffy added in a shrill voice.

"Ow...I think ow covers it..." Spike mumbled, as Buffy scrambled over to help him to his feet. "Slayer...whatever was in that brew you took...bloody hell...wouldn´t want to get on the wrong side of you any time soon."

"Sorry," she winced, helping him back over to one of the seats. "I forgot I could do that. Haven´t felt up to it, lately."

"That´s cause you´ve been low on batteries, Slayer," Spike grimaced, clutching his bruised ribs. "Something tells me that your little duracell bunny has been recharged and you could go on and on and on and on and on and..." He gave her a quizzical look. "And did I mention the on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on..."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Want me to slap you across the room again?"

"Not really, no."

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Then shut up."

"Shutting up, Slayer," he replied, then grinned. "And up and up and up and up and up and up and up and..."

"SPIKE!"

***

"Hey."

Sitting at the extended table, Xander looked up in surprise. "Anya!"

Evening meal was about to start, a few pupils and teachers just starting to filter into the massive hall, although only Xander was sitting at the table, the rest of the group no doubt awaiting Buffy.

Smiling slightly at him, Anya looked down at the opposite side of the table. "This is a very awkward situation," she noted, then looked across at him. "Would it be all right if I sit here?"

"I guess," he replied.

The former demon slid down into the seat opposite him, looking down at the plate in front of her. On the other side of the table, Xander picked at the chips lying on his plate, an uncomfortable look crossing his face.

"So..."

"So..."

Another silence fell.

Xander dropped his fork, sighing.

"Look, An," he said, looking at her. "This is crazy. We...we weren´t right together, were we? We haven´t been right for a long time so why are we being so crazy with each other now, when we know we´re way better this way?"

Anya´s smile was faint, but visible. "You´re right," she agreed.

"Hold up," Xander gasped, clapping a hand over his heart. "I´m right? Why couldn´t you realise this...I dunno...when we were arguing? Damn! If I´d known I could make you agree with me so easily..."

"Okay, now you´re being an arrogant male oppressor!"

"Hey! I resemble that remark! I...er...resent...no, wait! I know this one!" Xander cocked his head with a teasing half-grin at her. "Which one of those do I use if I want it to be good for me?"

Anya retorted, a genuine laugh escaping her. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "You were a good, very sweet muggle boyfriend, Xander," she said sincerely, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she added, "And a very, very good orgasm friend."

At the High Table, Hagrid seemed to have a choking fit over his dinner.

Clearing his throat, his face deep scarlet, Xander flashed a lop-sided, albeit slightly pleased and smug, grin at his former-girlfriend. "You couldn´t have said that any louder, could you, honey? I mean, not that I mind the compliment..."

"Although," she interrupted. "You were the first orgasm friend I had in over a thousand years so I might not be a very good judge..."

"And you so could have missed that part," he added, raising a silencing hand. "The first part was good enough for my fragile, yet manly ego."

Giving him a familiar coy look, she leaned forward. "I don´t think I am wrong about you, though Xander," she said in a softer voice, her fingers tightening around his. "And I still love you."

Xander looked down at their joined hands, then back at her face. "Yeah," he said with a smile. "I don´t think I´m gonna ever stop loving you, y´know, and we can...well, we can do the friend thing, right? I mean, I did it with Willow and Cordy..."

"You think so?"

He nodded. "I know so."

***

"And I feel like...like...like...I dunno what it is! It´s like I´m super-charged! Like I´ve maxed out on caffeine."

As they walked up the flight of stairs towards the Great Hall, Rupert Giles looked down at Buffy in clear amusement, as she practically bounced alongside him, talking nineteen to the dozen about how energised she was feeling.

He didn´t need to be told and part of him wondered if it was the accidental ingestion of his potion that had done the trick or simply the fact that she had slept for nearly seventy-two hours straight.

Whatever it was, he hadn´t seen her quite as exuberant for some time.

"Oh and I was wondering," she added, as they approached the doors of the Hall. "Do you know what happened to me after I drank that soupy stuff of yours? I mean, did I grow horns, or sprout a tail or something?"

"Hmm? Oh! No...nothing like that," he replied cheerfully. "No...no...not to worry. You were your usual charming self."

"Yeah, but I didn´t have Slayery dreams and I´ve been having them every night since I got here and..." A puzzled look crossed her face. "I actually remember having a dream I haven´t had since I was a kid..."

"Imagine that," Giles remarked dryly towards the ceiling.

He and Severus were the only ones in the castle who knew what had actually happened to the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, although Giles has a sneaking suspicion that the Head Master was probably aware of it too.

Suspicious hazel eyes narrowed up at him. "Why do I get the idea that you´re not telling me something?" she inquired, pausing, causing him to stop as well. "Is that why you left me these robey things?" She indicated to the dark blue robes she was wearing over her normal clothing. "To apologise in advance for when I find out what you did to me?"

"Not at all!" he exclaimed, grateful that it was - indeed - the truth. Buffy, after all, had a knack for knowing when he was lying and when he wasn´t. "It just seemed that they would be more suited and well-fitted to you than I."

Truth be told, they did look good on her.

Although they had been made for Severus, when he was no doubt a young teenager, and although they were a little long for the petite Slayer, they settled just right on her slender body, making her look even more petite and dainty, trailing behind her.

Deep blue of a clear midnight sky, the only marking on them was a stylised silver `S´, which was embroidered onto the left breast. They were held shut by two round, matching silver buttons on each side of the breast, which were held together by narrow silver chains between them.

"So you´re telling me that nothing happened and you just figured you´d..." She spread her hands in a shrug. "I dunno...ditch these robes in my closet so I would have something kinda magic-person-style to wear?"

"I suppose that might be the gist of it," he agreed, smiling slightly.

He truly couldn´t wait to see the look on Severus´ face when it transpired that Buffy, his detested Summers, actually liked the robes and had insisted on wearing them, because - as Sev had noted - she did like blue.

Buffy looked down at her new ensemble, smoothing the robes with one hand. "Do they look okay?" she asked nervously, fingering a silver button. "I mean, people aren´t gonna point and laugh at me, if they see me in `em?"

Taking her by the arm and steering her forward, he assured her, "You look perfect, Buffy, and I´m sure everyone else will think so too."

"Really?" she asked plaintively.

Giles almost wanted to strangle the girl´s fashion-conscious side. "Really."

***

"But we should have gone to dinner!"

Duncan grinned up at Dawn from the position where he was sitting on the floor of the bathroom. "After all the meals ye´ve made me miss, I think I´ve got every right to pull ye out of one meal."

Once more, they were in Moaning Myrtle´s toilets and - much to Duncan´s relief - the ghost was absent. She had really taken far too much of a liking to him in a way that had started to unnerve the boy a lot.

A book in his lap, a candle standing beside him in a small lantern, Duncan Cameron was sitting at the far end of the bathroom, leaning back against the wall.

The dim light of evening was filtering through the round windows at the ends of the bathrooms, although barely bright enough for them to make one another out. It had been raining on and off all day, the sky overcast and the moon blotted out by cloud.

"So..." Dawn crossed her arms over her chest. "You know Buffy´s gonna be way pissed if she finds out we left the room, right?"

Duncan gave her a knowing look. "Then we´re gonnae have to make sure she disnae find out, won´t we?" he replied, looking back down at the book he had in his lap. "And I couldnae show this to ye in the room, in case anyone walked in on us."

Now, THAT intrigued the Slayer´s sister.

"What is it?" she asked, kneeling down beside him and peering at the book.

A smirk crossed Duncan´s lips. "Fred and George mentioned this book just before they left and I managed to find it."

"Find...how?"

"Er...I...kinda borrowed it off one of the seventh years..." he replied sheepishly. "Which is kinda why we have tae look at it during dinner," Dawn looked blank, so he quickly added, "So he disnae miss it."

"You stole a book?"

"Not so loud!" Duncan exclaimed, looking around frantically as if he expected a teacher to leap out and charge him with some heinous crime or another. "And I didnae steal it! I borrowed it! There´s a difference."

"Uh-huh..." Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Look, will ye just take a wee look at this potion and see what ye make of it?"

Leaning closed, Dawn started picking her way through the script in the hefty book, the scent the parchment making her nose itch. No doubt the seventh year who owned this book never looked at it, judging by the amount of dust trapped in it´s pages.

Her eyes settled on the paragraph Duncan was clearly talking about, immediately going round in surprise.

"I can´t believe adults actually told you about this book!" she whispered.

"Well, they were the Weasley twins," Duncan admitted. "D´ye think ye could manage the potions mentioned?" She gave him a look. "All right, yes, that was a stupid question, but I just had to check, especially if we do this..."

Dawn was looking at the page again. "Y´know," she remarked, her eyes glimmering in a way that made her friend deeply uneasy and paranoid. "If we do this right, we might be able to sell some new stuff on to them..."

"That´s what Fred say ye might say..." Duncan mumbled.

"Fred and George think that I´m good enough to make stuff for them?" Dawn squeaked enthusiastically. Her eyes lit up and she grabbed the book from her friend´s hands. "Oh, we are so making as many things as possible!"

Duncan shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to hide a small smile. "And George said ye´d say that," he added, although Dawn didn´t notice, her nose already buried deep in the book of potions.

***

"She does seem a great deal more vibrant, does she not, Severus?"

Lifting his chin slightly, Severus Snape looked sidelong at Albus Dumbledore, who was seated just two seats away from him. The Head Master was beaming in the direction of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, who was chatting animatedly with Granger and Flitwick.

"What was that, Head Master?"

Blue eyes turned to him. "Professor Summers is certainly looking more spry than she has in some time, wouldn´t you agree?" he said mildly and Snape was practically positive the old man smirked.

Severus glared at Dumbledore, although he had been thinking along the same lines a few moments earlier. Not that he would ever admit, publicly or privately, to noticing that Summers looked anything but downright annoying.

From what he had heard, she had finally woken from her potion-induced quazi-coma only two hours earlier. It had taken her a good half hour to realise that she had been sleeping in the same piece of clothing for three full days.

Apparently, her screams of anguish had rung around Gryffindor Tower, when she had confronted a mirror in her room, called Bob allegedly, and been greeted with the bird´s nest that seemed to have replaced her hair.

Bob had apparently screamed just as loudly, which hadn´t helped matters.

Fortunately for all of them, she had managed to get her hair under some manner of control. It was currently twisted up and pinned in place up the back of her head, a few loose tendrils curling around her face and she looked like she had scrubbed herself until there was almost a glow radiating from her.

Although, judging from the warm energy pouring out from her in waves, perhaps the glow wasn´t caused by excessive bathing.

Severus mentally chastised himself for even considering the possibility that Summers, the annoying little tramp that she was, had any kind of...glow around her, supernatural, natural energy or otherwise.

He also had definitely and absolutely not noticed that she was wearing the robes he had gifted her miniature self. Positively had never noticed how they seemed to compliment her features. Utterly had not noticed how well they seemed to fit on her.

Growling under his breath, his attention returning to the plate in front of him, he drummed his knife impatiently on the table, wondering if it would be considered ill-mannered to depart barely halfway into the meal.

Of course, that was when he remembered that he didn´t give a damn about manners.

Pushing his chair back with unnecessary force, knocking it over with a deafening crash, he stormed towards the side door and out of the Great Hall, aware of the rather surprised silence he had left behind him.

Leaning against the wall of the hallway, Severus closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists by his sides.

How could one person cause so much irritation?

She didn´t even have to deign to look at him today and yet, she had still succeeded in driving him from the Great Hall with her innate...good energy that had been flooding the room, sweet and light and utterly agitating.

Running a hand through his hair, which was - like hers - washed and brushed for fear of her throwing him under a scalding shower again as she had threatened, he straightened up and shook his head.

He would work, he decided, and ignore the little hussy.

After all, it was almost time for the Christmas holidays and the majority of the pupils would be departing soon, which meant that he had a lot of work to grade, especially bearing in mind the time he had lost the night before, due to a certain...distraction.

Stalking off into the halls, towards one of the many twisting staircases that lead down to the dungeons, he told himself that he wouldn´t let thoughts of the irritating little trollop affect him further.

Not a chance.

He would push her from his mind.

Completely and utterly ignoring any thought of her.

No, he really wasn´t thinking about how annoying she was or how much he wished that he could hex her into next millennium or just how decent those damn robes of his had looked on her.

No, not thinking of her at all.

***

"Care to join me?"

Standing in the doorway of the massive study, Ben couldn´t help staring at the man sitting on the opposite side of the mahogany desk, in front of the window on the other side of the room.

He had, after trying to escape, repeatedly found himself back in the room that had been his prison for several weeks and had decided that he would be wiser to simply give up any fight he had in him and allow Glory to do what she liked.

However, his door had opened barely moments after he had woken and a filthy little pillow-case-wearing creature with bat-like ears, a lumpy nose and bulbous terrified eyes had informed him that `the Master´ wished to see him.

Uncertain of who the Master was, he had pulled on clothes that had been left out for him and followed the creature - barefoot - down the wooden-floored halls of the mansion to this room.

`The Master´ was seated behind a desk and he was possibly the most extravagant human that Ben had ever seen and, bearing in mind the things and places he had seen thanks to Glory, that was really saying a lot.

The rain-drenched moonlight gleamed in a soft, silvery halo on the man´s long, silver-blond hair, which hung elegantly around a pale, cold, gentlemanly face. Cool grey eyes regarded him from half-closed lids, one elbow propped on the arm of the chair, black-gloved fingers casually resting against his jawline.

His clothing could only be described as flamboyant. He looked like a dandy come to life, in a flared white shirt and tight-fitting black breeches. Feet clad in knee-high boots were propped on the edge of the desk in a pose of lazy casualness.

However, the cruel, calculating glimmer in his grey eyes suggested there was nothing vaguely lazy, casual or dandyish about the man.

"Who are you?" Ben asked cautiously, shifting his feet awkwardly on the cold floor.

The floor of the study was stone, unlike the corridors outside, and that polished stone was icy against his soles.

The corner of the man´s lips lifted. "The Master of this house," he replied, swinging his feet down from the desk and rising. He motioned towards the fireplace, where a blaze immediately sprang up. "Join me?"

Although it was said as a question, Ben knew it was meant as an order and complied.

Gesturing to one of the two seats by the gaping fireplace, the man´s smirk was starting to unnerve Ben a great deal. He sat, the man retrieving a glass of what looked like wine or some kind of clear liquid from the fireplace and taking the opposite seat, leaning back in that same casual fashion.

A startled cry escaped Ben as iron bands snapped around his arms and chest, pinning him into the seat.

Swirling the drink in his glass, the silver-haired man didn´t even look at Ben. "I hear you are the host for my rather charming associate," he remarked, holding the glass up to the light of the flames and studying it from all angles.

"What´s it to you?" Ben gasped, as the bands bit tighter into him.

Grey eyes drifted to him. "I´m awfully interested in you, you see," the Master of the house replied. "And I do so detest rudeness, so if you would..." He made a casual gesture with one hand. "Humour me, perhaps, I´m sure that this interview will be a...less painful experience for both of us."

Panting, as the bands grew tighter still around his chest and wrists, Ben nodded. "Okay! Sure! I´ll talk to you!"

"I know you will, dear boy," the Master chuckled. Rising smoothly to his feet like some kind of big cat, he gazed down at Ben. "However, I do suppose that once you´ve had a drink of veritaserum, you will be more than willing to tell me everything you know about you, your feelings about your Mistress and the experience of being a body-sharer."

"She´ll know you did this," Ben gasped.

This time, the Master of the house laughed, a sound chilling and devoid of humour. He squatted down in front of Ben´s chair, gazing up at him. "My dear boy," he murmured. "I thought you would have realised by now."

"Realised...what?"

The man smiled. It was like facing off with a great white shark. "Realised," he replied cheerfully. "That your lady gave me permission."

Ben stared at him. Okay, he knew Glory was screwed up, but letting a human in on all of her secrets? Like she would let that happen! Unless she really trusted the human and that had never happened.

Until now, apparently.

Unfortunately, though, being chained to a chair meant he was at a distinct disadvantage, which became all the more painfully clear, when a hand under his chin jerked his head up and the contents of the glass were forcefully poured down his throat.

Gagging and choking, he couldn´t help swallowing a little of the fluid. It felt like his mind had gone white the second he did so and he vaguely registered the man sitting back down, opposite him.

"So," the Master of the house said. "Tell me about Glory."

***

"So they´re back on speaking terms?"

"Mmm-hmm," Spike acknowledged.

"And you´re taking your time."

"Mmm."

"Would you mind hurrying up?"

Straightening up, the blond vampire turned to his companion. "Look, kitten, if you plan on cheating anymore, I´m just not gonna play."

Minerva McGonagall gave the vampire a shocked look. "Cheat? Me? Billy, for shame, how can you imply such a thing?"

Spike looked down at her snooker cue, which was poking against his knee. "Hmm," he remarked dryly. "I wonder." The witch immediately lifted it away, with an expression of mock-innocence that would have made Saints die laughing.

The odd pair was in the games-room that had been set up by Dumbledore on the special request of Dawn Summers and they had decided to take advantage of the fact that no one else was using it.

Currently, McGonagall was beating Spike seven games to two on the snooker table and she had beaten him hands down at Foosball and the Space Hockey games, which had lead to much vehement complaining that she was cheating and using her wand.

To prove a point, her wand had been placed on the fireplace and she hadn´t touched it.

Instead, she had used the cue to rile the vampire in various other ways.

On top of that, she really was a very good snooker player.

"I´ll behave," she promised, smirking.

Spike rolled his eyes at her and turned to take his shot. The cue ball ricocheted off the cushion and went into a corner pocket, initiating another bout of colourful swearing from the blond.

"You really are awful at this game," Minerva said, retrieving the white and immediately potting a rapid succession of colours, then the black. Straightening up, she gave him a smug smile. "And I believe you owe me."

Spike glared at the table, as if it had betrayed him. "Make it best of twenty!"

"Not a chance, Billy," she extended a hand, palm up. "I won fair and square and I would be much obliged if you would give me what you owe."

Scowling and grumbling loudly, Spike dug out a roll of film and handed it on to the Deputy Head Mistress, who gave him a smug smirk. "I´m sure that Miss Weasley and Professor Granger will be most interested in knowing that you have been sneaking into their chambers while they were sleeping. And with a camera, no less!"

"Hey! I´m a red-blooded male!" An eyebrow rose in his direction. "Okay, I´m a horny vampire who doesn´t mind watching a bit of girl-girl action. It´s not my fault that I just happened to be carrying a camera..."

"Or that you happened to point it at them and take several films worth of pictures."

"Just a fluke, one in a million chance," the vampire agreed. He paused, then gave her his best puppydog look. "Any chance of me getting a few copies to keep? Y´know, just as a memory of that one night of huge coincidence that involved naked witches, me being there by accident, the camera, chocolate...?"

Minerva cleared her throat. "Chocolate?"

"Didn´t they have it when you were you, back in the Dark Ages?"

"This coming from the vampire who is fifty years older than I am?"

Spike groaned. "Ran into that like a brick wall."

Minerva smirked at him. "I would certainly say so," she agreed, pocketing the film. "As for this film, I will be handing it on to Professor Granger and Miss Weasley, with your kindest regards."

"And a set of the pictures, eh?"

"Billy, my lad, you are a perverted demon to the last," she sighed.

Spike made a bow. "And I thank you for the compliments my lady."

"Twit," she added. "And now, I think I´m going to retire for the night, as I do have a rather early start in the morning."

"Scared to try another game, Minnie?"

"Bored of beating you into submission so very easily, Billy," she replied, retrieving her wand. "I bid you good night."

Spike smiled politely at her. "And I´ll make sure to ask Red for that film back."

"You do that," McGonagall said. "I´m sure she´ll hand it back to you once you tell her what it is."

Smiling an oddly innocent smile, Spike stuck his hands in his pockets. "Of course she will, kitten," he replied amiably. "G´night." The door closed and he grinned. "So, Niblet, did you get it?"

There was a swish of material and Dawn appeared from under the invisibility cloak, a small film canister held in one hand, a broad grin on her face. "If this is what you meant, yeah! She didn´t even notice."

Catching it as she tossed it to him, he arched a brow at the dark-haired girl. "You never fail to surprise me. Nicking a film right out a teacher´s pocket," he said. "You never know - we might have to sign you up for a life of crime."

"Nah," Dawn replied. "I´m gonna stick with potions just now. Too many way fun things to make."

"Nothing...dangerous?"

Dawn made a dismissive gesture. "Pfft! As if! Just crazy potions. The dangerous stuff is way icky and smells gross too...at least that´s what Professor Snape said."

"Good recovery, Nibbles," Spike smirked. "So...you best be getting back to bed, while I go and get this developed."

"What is it anyway? You were joking about the Willow and Hermione thing, right?"

"Of course!" Spike exclaimed, hand on his unbeating heart. "Do I honestly look like the type who would perv on two girls and...actually, forget that excuse. Do I look like the kind of vampire who knows how to take photographs?"

The teenager rolled her eyes. "I should be getting back to bed now, anyway, Spike," she said, shaking out the invisibility cloak. "You know how freaked Buffy gets if she wakes up and I´m not there."

"Night, Nibbles."

The door opened and closed again and the vampire grinned at the plastic tube in his hand, which contained the photographic evidence of Willow and Hermione´s affair. All right, it was just them sleeping, but still, they were righteously cute together.

It would always be fun to tease them.

Dropping the film into the pocket of his jeans, he took one last look around the room and muttered the password to dim the flaming torches, then slipped out into the dark of the halls and away to his room.

***

"Find out anything useful, baby?"

Looking up from the parchment he was writing on, Lucius Malfoy smiled slightly as his lover snapped the metal bands binding her to the chair and rose to her feet. "A good deal of very interesting and potentially useful information."

"Like where my key might have gone?"

"Indeed," Lucius murmured, motioning for her to join him by the desk, as he continued to write with an eagle´s feather quill. "I do recall that you said that the Slayer was the one protecting this...key of yours, was she not?"

"Yup." Glory sat down on the edge of the desk, brushing her hair back from her face.

A slow, chilling smile crossed Malfoy´s face. "While I am aware that our attempts to reach the Slayer have been thwarted," he said, not raising his eyes from his page. "We do have a little additional information."

"Oh?"

"It would certainly appear to be the case," Lucius replied. "While the Slayer may be protected by high magics now, I do believe we might be able to...persuade her to listen to us, if we develop our negotiation technique."

Glory raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Well," he said, leaning back in the seat. "You see, our wonderful heroine was not alone when she went to the school to teach. Several friends accompanied her and I have heard that her sister is also present."

"Her sister..." A gleeful grin crossed Glory´s pretty face. "I remember her. Cute as a little button. What do you have in mind for her?"

Lucius spread his hands, his lips curling in a smile. "Oh, I was thinking of the usual," he replied casually. "Kidnap, possibly a touch of torture followed by a little murder, although it may have to wait until she finds a breach in their security."

"Those new spells are still holding, huh?"

He grimaced. "You could say that. Apparently, no one can cross into school grounds without permission and should they attempt to force the issue, they will find themselves physically expelled with great force."

Sliding off the edge of the desk, Glory draped herself across Lucius Malfoy´s lap, sliding an arm around his neck and toying with his long hair. "And how is our little girl doin´ in her task?"

"I do believe she is close to discovering the whereabouts of the key," Lucius replied, eyes slitted, as her fingers wandered up and down the back of his neck.

"Well, that´s good news, ain´t it, cutie?"

"I certainly would concur with that assessment of the situation."

Blue-green eyes studied grey for a long moment, before Glory dropped a feathery kiss on his lips. "Sweetie, you´ve had a busy evening," she remarked. "And I´m horny as hell, so can we do stuff?"

Lucius chuckled. "You have such...captivating phrasing, my dear Goddess."

She smirked at him. "Look whose talkin´, cutie-patootie."

"Is that an indication that I must shut you up?"

Before she could reply, their lips met in a fierce kiss.

***

Whispering the password to Hermione and Willow´s room, Dawn glanced up and down the hall, making sure there was no sign of the vampire whome she hoped hadn´t caught on to what she had done yet.

The painting swung open and she slipped through the opening, running lightly up the circular staircase towards the bedroom that the two witches shared, her fingers closed around a certain item.

The door of the room at the top of the staircase was slightly open, which Dawn took as a cue not to knock and walked into the room, her eyes going wide as she found Willow Weasley and Hermione Granger in a bit of a warm situation.

Although, warm in the sense that they were severely lacking in the clothing department.

Pyjamas were strewn on the floor and chair beside the bed and both witches looked like they were fast asleep, curled under the pale, silky sheet on one of the beds, Hermione spooned behind Willow, her cheek resting against the red head´s.

The older woman´s arm was looped around Willow´s waist possessively and the red-haired woman´s hand was resting lightly on Hermione´s softly tanned forearm. She had a peaceful smile on her face.

Taking a step back, Dawn´s foot caught on the end of the borrowed invisibility cloak and she stumbled, knocking the door shut with a bang.

Hermione was on her feet, wand raised, in a heartbeat and Dawn uttered a squeal of embarrassment, covering her eyes.

If she had doubted that anything had happened between the two witches before, the blindingly obvious love-bite on Hermione´s belly assured her that they had - indeed - been partaking in smoochies.

Or, they had become members of some belly-sucking cult, but Dawn felt pretty sure that she knew which it was.

"Dawnie?" Willow mumbled sleepily, sitting up in the bed, as Hermione summoned her bathrobe and pulled it on, blushing slightly.

"You!" Dawn squeaked, pointing at them, then realising that she still had the cloak on. Yanking it off, she pointed from one tot the other. "You...and you...in the bed...making with the smoochies!"

"Us?" Willow was bolt upright in a blink. "Us? Smoochies? No! Way big no! And in the bed? We were just sleeping! And I am so not good at lying...yes, we were making with the smoochies."

An awed look crossed Dawn´s face. "This is so cool!" she gasped, a broad smile crossing her face. "I shoulda guessed! I mean, you two are so alike! How could you not like-like each other?"

Willow and Hermione exchanged bemused glances. "You´re not uber-wigged?"

"Wigged? No way! This is beyond cool!"

Hermione actually smiled. "Never thought we´d get that reaction."

"Hey," Dawn laughed. "I´m the easy one to deal with. I know Buffy´ll be way wigged, so I´m not. It makes her go nuts when something seriously gives her a wiggins and I don´t get wigged by it."

The two witches couldn´t help laughing, as Willow summoned her own dressing gown and slid out of the bed. "So, what did you wanna come up here for at this time of night anyway, Dawnie?"

"Spike," Dawn replied. "He´s been up here for blackmail material. He took pictures."

The teenager was sure she saw a deep blush flood Willow´s cheeks. "So what´s he gonna do with them?" the red head asked, tying her dressing gown cord with hands that were shaking.

A small object was tossed across the room and Willow caught it.

A film.

"Nothing," Dawn replied, grinning. "But he doesn´t know that yet."

***

Withdrawing the film tube out of his pocket, Spike sat down on the edge of his bed in his hidden room, giving the little container a shake.

He had intended hunting down one of the Ravenclaw fifth years who was known throughout the school to be an avid photographer, in order to get the film developed, but it would have to wait until morning.

He rattled the tube again, a frown crossing his features.

It was the right weight, but something didn´t sound right about the rattle.

But Dawnie, the niblet, his sidekick had been the one to pickpocket Minnie and she would never, ever in a month of Sundays pull a double-cross on him. Or at least, he didn´t think she would have the nerve.

Lifting the plastic tube up close to his face, he narrowed his eyes and cautiously peeled up the edge of the lid.

Emerald-green fluid sprayed out of the tiny tube, all over his face, the vampire gagging and yelling in surprise. In the battle painting on the wall behind him, some of the soldiers stopped fighting to watch and started laughing.

Hurling the plastic tube away from his face, he blindly groped for one of his sheets and dried the goop off, wondering just what the little minx had slipped in, in place of the film when he wasn´t looking.

The giggling soldiers in the picture were getting louder by the second and he turned to them, only to have one of the commanders shriek hysterically and fall off the horse he was on, rolling around in the mire and laughing like a hyena.

Raising a hand to his face, Spike moaned. "I´m gonna kill you, Niblet!"

___________________________________

Well, it´s shorter than the previous ones, so that´s something - oh, and its going to be at least a fortnight until my next update - I´m going to be out of the country for a week and when I get back, I´ll be writing up my dissertation first chapter (How I wish I had chosen Harry Potter as much subject now!)

However, for those of you who must know, coming in the next chapter of The Eighth Weasley - Hermione and Willow have to deal with some...awkward speculation, Buffy sees something rather unexpected, Spike´s new...look surprises a few people and much more...