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

The Eighth Weasley

Fyre

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

Chapter 44

Chapter Summary:
Chapter 44 -
Posted:
02/04/2003
Hits:
1,269
Author's Note:
*snickers* So much for working on my dissertation. I have the books, the papers and everything and last night, I sat down and thought I should type a little of this, just to get it out of my head so I could work properly.

The Eighth Weasley - Chapter Forty-Four

REFLECTED REASSURANCE

Notes: Okay. This is one of the few chapters that wasn’t intended to happen and then, something twisted in the Xander/Anya thing earlier than intended, a chapter became irrelevant and was removed, so this was the replacement, so we were still left with the neat 75 that I have had planned for months. Plus, I wanted to get the ideas in this in somewhere pre-chapter 45 and hey! It worked :D Bit of a surprise ch. for me, I adore the content :D

____________________________

Winter had descended suddenly on Hogwarts.

During the night, a storm had rushed in from the sea, coating the whole school in a thick lair of powdery snow. With the clear skies outside, the sunlight reflected into the Hall, brighter than usual.

Walking into the Great Hall, Hermione couldn’t help notice the flurry of whispers that spread around her. It felt like almost every eye in the hall was on her and it was a feeling she didn’t like at all.

Briskly striding down, towards the High Table, she tried to ignore the looks and shot a furtive glance at Willow, wondering if her lover was as aware of the pointed stares as she was.

Apparently she was.

The red-haired witch had her head ducked over a barely-touched bowl of cereal and she wasn’t looking anywhere but the table in front of her.

It was a little unnerving.

How did everyone know?

Surely Willow wouldn’t have told anyone else about their clandestine relationship without telling her first. And Dawn... she knew better than to run off and tell her classmates about it...

Approaching the additional table, Hermione paused beside her lover. Another rush of hushed conversation broke out and she flashed an angry look around the hall, all the voices falling silent.

So, she realised, judging by the impassive expressions of the other teachers at the High Table, it was only the pupils who knew about them. Either that, or the teachers were taking the news better than expected.

Somehow, she was more convinced of the former than the latter.

"Hermione!"

The hasty hiss from the end of the Gryffindor table made her look around. Dawn was beckoning her frantically, an apologetic look on her face. Resisting the urge to pull out her wand and jinx the girl, Hermione forced a smile and approached.

"Dawn," she said cordially.

"I’m so sorry, Hermione," the dark-haired teenager whispered, her face marked with anguish. "I-I was kinda talking to Duncan in the bathroom and Myrtle overheard and she thought it was funny, so she told Peeves...something about wanting to get back at you for ignoring her..."

Oh, marvellous.

"Let me guess," the Professor said in a somewhat less-than-normal voice. "He has been floating around all the Common Rooms and making sure that everyone know with a whole song about us..."

"And dance routine with backing vocals from Myrtle..." Dawn winced.

Hermione massaged her temples with her fingertips, in an attempt to stave off the impending headache she could already feel brewing. "I didn’t realise she hated me that much," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Hate you?" Dawn squeaked. "No! Nonono! She doesn’t hate you! She just wants to get your attention again!"

"My...attention?"

A pink glow flooded Dawn’s cheeks and she suddenly seemed to find her breakfast plates enormously interesting. "Um...Myrtle...she...um...she’s like...she doesn’t just like Duncan..."

"Oh...dear..." Hermione mumbled, clearing her throat. "Right...well..." She flashed a forced smile at Dawn. "If you see Myrtle, tell her to come to the staff room and see me, if it’s so important."

"Kay," Dawn nodded. "And...you’re not mad at me, are you?"

"You? Of course not, Dawn!" Hermione exclaimed, squeezing Dawn’s shoulders affectionately. "Although, Peeves had better look out, because if he comes anywhere near me, poltergeist or not, I’m going to wring his neck."

Leaving the teenager to her breakfast, the Professor of Muggle Studies turned her attention back to the High Table, hurrying up to her seat. As she passed Willow, she lightly squeezed the back of her lover’s neck.

As she took her seat, she shot a look down at Willow, who didn’t even look at her, her eyes still fixed on her plate, her expression one of misery.

Odd.

Normally, Willow would smile broadly up at her. She had been in such a good mood when she had left their room this morning, so what could have happened to lower her girlfriend’s spirits so much?

Yes, it was a bit of a shock to find out that almost all the students knew about them, but Willow had always been the one asking when they could reveal their relationship to the world.

Was it possible...was...could it be that she was disappointed now?

Was she hoping to keep it a secret permanently?

Did that mean that she wasn’t as happy as she had claimed to be?

Hermione’s face fell at the thought, the fleeting memory of her other lover crossing her mind.

His words, when she had asked if they were going to go public, still stung: "You’re good fun for a tumble in the hay, Herm, but be serious...you’re not the kind of person anyone would want to be in a relationship with."

Maybe he had been right.

After all, Viktor and Ron had acted the same way.

Everything had been great at first, then...

Then, everything was turned on its head and, within weeks of that happening, both relationships had floundered.

It couldn’t be them, she knew.

After all, since then, Viktor had got married only a year after they had parted ways and was now a father, twice over. Her other lover, from the Ministry, had also married one of his employer’s daughters.

Something, she mused as she picked at a dry piece of toast, had to be wrong with her, since every one of her relationships had crumbled around her.

Her eyes prickled and she bit her lower lip.

Maybe, she thought sadly, she should save Willow the heartache of tolerating a long sham of a relationship, before breaking up just after it became public. If it protected Willow from any hurt, she knew she would break her own heart.

Staring sightlessly at the piece of toast she was holding, her eyes still burning, she drew a slow breath. They would have to talk it through and hopefully, Willow would understand why.

Correction, Willow would probably be relieved about it, judging by the dejected look on her face.

Sadly, turning her attention to her toast, she picked up a knife and dipped it into the marmalade, then scraped it over the cooling toast. She felt stinging warmth of barely noticeable tears rolling silently down her cheeks.

She did not, however, notice two pairs of concerned eyes watching her.

***

"Knock knock!"

With his back to the open door of the classroom, Snape raised his eyes ceilingwards in a silent plea for mercy. "Summers," he said, not turning. "That most certainly does not qualify as knocking on the door."

"And look who got outta the wrong side of bed this morning," she retorted chirpily.

By Merlin, he wanted to strangle her.

Standing in the narrow slats of dusty light that cut in through the thin, high windows of the dungeon classroom, Severus slowly turned around to face his personal gnat, a long breath being exhaled.

Calm.

He would remain calm and civilised.

He would not grab his nearest textbook and hurl it at her.

"May I know why you have decided to torment me, so early in the day?"

The petite blonde flashed a grin at him, strolling into the room. "You’re really not a morning person, are you, Crankenstein?"

Much to his irritated observation, she was wearing his old robes once again, loosely fastened between her breasts and perfectly matched with her deep blue trousers and white shirt.

Perhaps, she was lucky that her clothing had distracted him, because otherwise the Crankenstein jibe would have cast him across the line between sanity and madness and a book would have rapidly flown at her head.

Or a cauldron.

Preferably one of the big ones.

"Summers..." he snapped. "If there is a reason for you being here, do inform me, or do me the great courtesy of departing immediately."

"I thought I’d drop by because you haven’t been at many meals and I hadn’t been down here in a while and figured that you might be missing me," she replied, ignoring his snort of disdain. "So...d’you miss me?"

"Summers, I miss you as much as I would miss a shattered femur."

Hazel eyes glimmered with amusement in the dust-captured light of the classroom, as she reached the desk in front of him and leaned her hip against it. "So, in a kinda roundabout way, you do miss me..."

"Summers..."

She laughed, the sound ringing like a thousand annoying tiny bells off the arched sections of the roof. "Oh, c’mon, Snapey! You gotta lighten up! We get rid of most of the kids in the next coupla days. Don’t tell me you’re not looking forward to it."

Severus made a noncommittal sound in his throat, turning his attention to the scrolls and books piled on his desk.

"That’s what I came down for, too," she continued cheerfully. Damnit. All because of that blasted potion, she was ten times more lively and irritating than she had ever managed to be before. "You’re staying here over Christmas, right?"

Again he said nothing.

"See," she rambled on, her voice cutting through his attempts to disregard her like a hot knife through butter. Despite mentally screaming at her to be silent, nothing worked and he reluctantly turned to face her. "Professor Dumbledore told me that you always stay at Hogwarts for Christmas vacation and me and Dawnie...we kinda have to stay this year, in case Glory is watching our home in Sunnydale and mom can’t come, in case Glory follows her..."

"Do you intend to reach to point of this discourse any time in the near future?"

Summers chuckled. "You really are a cranky jerk, y’know," she remarked, cocking her head at him as she straightened up. "And yes, I do plan on getting to the point. We have to stay here. You always stay. Wanna have Christmas dinner with us?"

"Not particularly."

She stepped right in front of him, grinning that annoying, smug, American grin. "I don’t wanna be...well, yeah, I do wanna be the one to break it to you, Snapey, but you promised the Head Master you would come to Christmas day meals. You just have to choose if you wanna sit with me and Dawnie or with him..."

"Or there is the option of hanging myself from the decorations."

"Not really a Christmas kinda guy, huh?"

He stared at her implacably. "I think you will find that it is more about being given a choice of torment in two different dimensions of Hell," he replied coldly. "The old and irritating or the young and equally irritating."

"Since Dumble has been irritating you longer than I have, I’ll let that one slide," she grinned up at him. "And trust me, Hell is way worse than anything I could give you. I should know. I was there."

"You were in Hell," he echoed. "Somehow, I am not surprised."

"You don’t believe me, huh?" Crossing her arms over her chest, she gazed up at him steadily, her expression frighteningly old in it’s intensity. "I was there all right. In a Hell where people are forced to work all day, tormented by the knowledge that they are being forgotten by their loved ones. I was there for less than an hour, but it was enough. Getting out of there was the thing that let me go back. Hell was the thing that showed me that there were good things in life. Things worth fighting for."

Severus stared at her, uncertain what to think.

"Oh, and there was that one time I dived into the Hellmouth," she added, her tone lightening immediately. "And do I even have to say gross? I mean, ew! The stuff I saw down there was just uber-wiggy! Way glad I managed to stop it opening. The stuff inside was worse than the stuff that almost came out when we were at school..."

Black eyes blinked at her in sheer bewilderment.

"So...since Christmas dinner isn’t going to be Hell, you’re gonna sit with us, me and Dawnie, right? I think that’s a yes, yeah? Okay! Great!" She tapped him in the centre of his chest, beaming. "It’s gonna be fun!"

That said, she seemed to bounce all the way out of the classroom, leaving a rather puzzled Potions Professor standing by his desk, his face contorted in an expression of abject confusion.

Shaking his head slowly, one hand rose to touch the spot on his chest, where she had poked him. "She really is by far the most irritating little creature I have ever met," he remarked to himself.

Still, as he sat down at his desk, his fingertips still lingered on the spot where she had touched his chest.

***

Lunchtime had arrived and Willow still hadn’t been able to bring herself to approach her lover.

Checking that the other girl’s familiar face wasn’t present at the head of the hall, Willow kept her eyes on the floor as she moved towards the table that she shared with her friends.

She had seen the dark look that Hermione had flashed around the Great Hall at breakfast and if the brown-haired witch had been so angry about their secret coming out, did it mean she didn’t want anyone to know?

When Hermione had squeezed the back of her neck as she passed behind Willow at breakfast, Willow had been convinced that it was a small sign of her annoyance at their being ‘outed’.

Was she so bad that Hermione didn’t want anyone to know about her?

Chewing on her lower lip, she slid into her seat, not even raising her face to the other occupants of the table, who were chatting amiably amongst themselves.

"Hey, Wills!"

One corner of her mouth lifted slightly as she raised her eyes to Xander. "Hey."

"What’s up? You look like you just got told you’re gonna get kicked outta school."

She shook her head and picked up her fork, poking absently at the stew and potatoes that had appeared on her plate. "Nothing," she replied distantly, watching the gravy swirl around the meat and vegetables. "I’m good."

"Uh...huh..."

"You don’t look good," Anya added.

"An," Xander muttered under his breath.

Anya sighed the patient, long-suffering sigh of someone humouring a person who didn’t understand what they were talking about. "Well, she doesn’t, Xander. Maybe she hasn’t noticed!"

"I noticed," Willow said glumly. "It’s no big deal."

"Then why the long face, Wills? Failed a paper or something?" Willow shook her head, pushing a pea under the gravy with one prong of her fork and watching it sink without trace. "Wills?"

"Just thinking."

"Is this about your orgasm friend?"

"Anya!" Xander exclaimed.

"What? When people are cranky or depressed, it’s usually because they haven’t had enough orgasms."

"I know, An, but can you please not mention sex when there are kids here?"

There was a silence, then Anya seemed to catch up. "Oh!" she squeaked, apparently a little flustered. "Oh right! I didn’t realise that using the term orgasm would be offensive in public..."

"Not exactly offensive," Xander murmured. "But kids might not know what it means and I don’t wanna be the one to explain."

"Okay," Anya agreed brightly. "So...Willow, since you’re all...mopey and stuff, I’m betting you haven’t got laid for a while."

"Anya!"

"I can’t mention getting laid now, either?" Anya asked, in an injured tone.

"Maybe we should...y’know...change the subject," Willow suggested half-heartedly, mention of sex, love and relationships making it feel like a giant hand had clamped around her heart.

Anya started to protest, but Xander laid a hand on his ex-girlfriend’s to silence her and nodded across the table to Willow. "Yeah, Wills," he said comfortingly. "So... whaddya want to talk about?"

The red-haired witch shrugged. "Anything except that," she replied sadly.

Opposite her, Anya and Xander exchanged concerned looks.

***

"We have to do something."

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Dawn was sitting at the corner table, staring out on the snow-covered grounds of the school, watching a group of Hufflepuffs having a snowball fight.

She was wearing a thick, woolly red sweater, provided by the Scottish boy sitting with her, over her baby-T, and shirt, the icy winter weather far colder than her limited wardrobe had catered for.

Duncan nodded in agreement. "After all, it is kinda our fault that everyone knows about it and they’ve fallen out."

"I don’t think they’ve fallen out," Dawn murmured, her breath misting the panes of the window. "I think...I dunno...I think they’re both so scared of what they’ve got. I know that both of them had bad relationship stuff before, so maybe they’re worried that the other deserves something better than them."

"But they’re both great!" Duncan exclaimed. "And so pretty! And nice!"

"Yeah," Dawn said, drumming her fingertips on the table in front of her. "But they both have real bad issues with self-esteem. They both think they’re everything ungreat and that there are better people out there for them."

"So what do we do?"

Nibbling on her lower lip pensively, Dawn glanced back at the window, catching a brief glimpse of her reflection in the glass.

Suddenly, her eyes went wide. "I got an idea!"

Duncan’s face went a shade paler. "It doesn’t involve polyjuice, does it?"

"No!" Dawn exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "But we’re gonna need to get help from some of the teachers and I think we’ll need more than just us to convince Dumbledore to let us do it..."

The Scottish boy gave her a curious look. "What are you up to?"

"You’ll see," Dawn said, grabbing his arm and hauling him onto his feet. "C’mon! We have to hurry."

As he was dragged out of the common room, Duncan moaned. "I have a feeling I’m gonnae regret this..."

***

"Well, well, what have we here..."

Minerva glared at the painting. "I would suggest that you shut up," she said. "I’m not in the mood for dealing with you right now."

"Haven’t got laid for a while, eh?" the painting inquired, grinning at her and she was tempted to whip out her wand and give the occupant a makeover, involving flapping shoes, a red nose and voluminous rainbow trousers.

"Be quiet!" she snapped.

The painting snickered. "Looks like I’m right, then," it said. "Whatcha wanting?"

"Let me in."

"Gimme the password and I’ll think about it."

Pursing her lips, McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "I’m the Deputy Head Mistress of this school," she said coldly. "Open the door."

"Nope, that’s wrong."

"Right," she snapped. "I don’t need to deal with you. I know he can hear me through this canvas." Raising her voice, she called out, "Billy!"

"Sod off!" the reply came from behind the painting, making the occupant smirk at her knowingly. Her fingers were itching to teach the occupant a lesson, but decorum - and lack of a decent spell - prevailed.

Professor Minerva McGonagall was a patient woman for the most part, but standing in a draughty corridor, with breezes whooshing down and slapping her skirts around her ankles, as well as a loudmouth painting winding her up, she really wasn’t in the best of moods.

"Billy, you better open this door now, or I’ll make you regret it!"

There was a scuffling sound from inside. "Whaddya want, Minnie? I’m not opening the door unless it’s important."

"William," she snapped. "Weasley and Granger look like they are feeling that their significant other deserves better. I do honestly believe that they will separate because both think the other is too good for them."

There was a silence on the other side of the door.

"They’re wrong."

Minerva rolled her eyes, her arms folded, fingers drumming impatient on her upper arms. "I know that and you know that and every pupil in this school knows that," she said, her voice rising in pitch. "But they don’t and they are going to throw away a remarkable relationship if we don’t stop them."

There was another silence, then the click of the painting being slipped free and it started to open.

"Thank goodness," she began. "I almost thought..."

Spike looked gloomily out at her from the candle-lit room.

A choked giggle escaped her.

"Don’t even say it, Minnie," he said miserably, looking as pathetic as it was possible for him to look.

Even if she had wanted to say whatever ‘it’ was, Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Head Mistress and prim and proper school-marm, was laughing so hard that she could not form a coherent word, no matter how hard she tried.

***

Sorting through his collection of Chocolate Frog cards, Albus Dumbledore was - as usual - unsurprised when the door of his office opened inwards and a party of people hurried in.

It was, however, the members of that party that caused a bushy eyebrow to rise.

"Minerva...William...Miss Summers...Mr Cameron..." Stacking his cards neatly, he motioned the closer to the desk, the vampire edging around the patches of sunlight on the floor, a blanket over his head. "How may I help you?"

"It’s Willow and Hermione!" Dawn Summers burst out. "We...we kinda accidentally let Myrtle know about them and she told Peeves and now, everyone knows and they have stopped talking! We think they’re gonna break up."

Dumbledore folded his hands. "Indeed?"

"Albus," Minerva laid a hand on Dawn’s shoulder, to calm her. "None of us want to see those two young ladies hurt, but if we don’t do something, they are going to ruin this special relationship they have, because of their own insecurities."

"Minerva, you of all people ought to know that I cannot change a person’s feelings."

The Deputy Head Mistress gave him one of her patented glares. "Albus, this is not a matter of toying with their feelings. We know they care for one another. It’s a matter of showing them that the other cares equally and they do deserve each other."

"I do not see what you think I can do about it, Minerva."

"Yeah, right," William muttered from under the blanket.

Dumbledore gave the vampire a curious look. "If I may ask..."

"Don’t," the vampire replied, raising a hand to silence him, as Minerva, Dawn and Duncan started snickering behind him. "It’s not pleasant."

"Oh, go on, Spike!" Dawn laughed. "Show the Head Master! He might be able to figure out why it hasn’t worn off yet."

William deliberated for several seconds, then raised his hands and lowered the blanket from his head, revealing...

"You do realise that you look rather...odd?"

Gold eyes glared up at the chuckling Head Master. "Of course I do, you bloody great nit!" he lisped around centralised fangs that were overhanging his lower lip. "As if vamping normally wasn’t bad enough..."

"If I may ask, what happened?"

"Potion...accidentally..." Dawn mumbled, going a little pink in the face. "I...he was going to blackmail Hermione and Willow..."

"Bit!" William groaned. "You weren’t meant to mention that. And you," he pointed at the Head master. "Got any reason that it would have stayed like this, this long?"

"I would assume that the potion was a new one, not based on anything that Professor Snape uses in the texts?" Dumbledore said, struggling not to smile. Dawn nodded her head. "I would let it remain for twenty-four hours and, if it has not worn off by then, I would seek out aid from Severus."

"Bloody marvellous, that is," William mumbled, then sighed. "Right, so, Professor, the Niblet had a damn good idea about something we could do to get our favourite pair of girlies to stay together."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore looked towards Minerva, who nodded in agreement.

Before he could ask, though, the door of the office swung open again, Xander and Anya dashing in, breathless.

"Professor! Willow isn’t getting any orgasms and we think..." Anya’s words trailed off into silence and she went rigid. The colour drained from her face and she uttered a squeak of terror, pointing at William. "No..."

The vampire gaped at her, taking a step towards her. "Demon-girl?"

"STAY BACK!" she screeched, diving behind Xander. "Keep it away!"

Xander looked from the young woman cringing behind him to the vampire in front of him and then, appeared to work out what was troubling her. "Spike, can you kinda cover yourself...?"

Dumbledore couldn’t hide a small smile as Xander protectively let Anya hide her face in his shoulder and burrow against him. It was reassuring to see that their parting hadn’t caused too much hurt on either side.

The vampire’s confused expression looked utterly ridiculous with his face looking like it did, covered in fluffy white fur. His nose was pulled up, pink and had whiskers beneath it. Tall ears stood up on each side of his head, his long fangs making him like a rabbit version of Nosferatu.

"Omigod! Anya’s got a rabbit phobia!" Dawn exclaimed. "Spike! Put the blanket back on!"

Grumbling bitterly as he forced the ears flat, William pulled the blanket back over his head. "Niblet, have I mentioned that I hate you with a fiery passion and when I get this chip out, I’m gonna eat you?"

"Not for...oh...a week?" Dawn grinned at him. "Anyways, what were you guys saying about Willow?"

Xander had one armed draped around Anya, reassuringly, as he replied. "Willow was way depressed at dinner. An told me that her and Hermione got together and now, they might be breaking up. Hermione looks as depressed about it as Wills, so I don’t think they wanna break up."

"Red and the Prof both can’t get over the idea that they’re not good enough for each other and it’s gonna break them," William said from under his blanket. "That’s why we’re here. I didn’t get ‘em together for them to break up a couple of weeks later."

"And you were saying something about Miss Summers having an idea?" the Head Master said.

Minerva nodded. "It really is astoundingly simple, and yet, I doubt any of us would have had the foresight to think of it," she said, gently steering Dawn forward. "Go on, Miss Summers."

"Um...you won’t be mad if you don’t like this, right?"

"Of course not, Miss Summers."

"Well..." Twisting her hands together nervously, Dawn cleared her throat. "This is what I was thinking we could do..."

***

Sitting in the open quad in the middle of the school, wearing thick warm robes and several layers of shirts and sweaters to stave off the cold, Willow was pretending to read a Charms book she had borrowed from the library.

The previous three nights had been her worst at Hogwarts.

She and Hermione had barely been able to speak for the tension between them. She had wanted to explain and then let that be that, but no words would come out.

They hadn’t even been able to face sleeping in the same bed, not since their secret had been made public, and, for the first time since the bathroom, they had not shared a goodnight kiss, which hurt more than she could bear.

Willow had never been more grateful for vacation time than she was now.

With the majority of pupils gone, it meant that there were less staring, prying eyes. It also meant that her family would be able to visit without being stared at and fawned over by awe-struck pupils.

They were due to arrive today, probably within a couple of hours, and she hoped that their arrival would provide her something to smile about, although she truly wasn’t feeling in the Christmas spirit.

Turning the page of her book awkwardly, with the woolly fingers of her gloves, she sniffed, her nose cold and stinging, her cheeks prickling with the cold. Part of her wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t.

"Willow!"

Looking up, she found Dawn and her friend, Duncan, hurtling towards her.

"Hey."

"You gotta come with us, Willow!" Dawn panted, clouds of condensation billowing from her lips with every breath. Her eyes were alight and her cheeks flushed with cold and exertion. "We have to show you!"

"Show me what?" Willow asked, reluctantly closing her book.

"Oh, just come on!" Dawn squealed, grabbing one of her arms. "It’s so cool!"

"An’, for one, I agree with her," Duncan added, his blue eyes dancing.

"You-you do?"

"Aye! It’s crackin’!"

Reluctantly letting the two teens haul her onto her feet, she sank in the snow up to her ankles and it soaked into her socks, above the edge of her boots. "So," she said, as they lead her down the halls. "What is this cool thing?"

"You gotta see it!" Dawn exclaimed.

She asked the question at least half a dozen times more before they reached their destination and got the same reply from both of them.

They came to a halt in front of a door she didn’t recognise. "Go in!" Duncan urged.

"Yeah! You gotta go in on your own!"

Looking from one to the other suspiciously, Willow nodded and pushed the door open. Before she could even see the contents of the room, two pairs of hands gave her a firm push and she all but fell into the room.

"Hey!"

The door crashed shut behind her and she heard the click of a latch being pulled into place. "You can yell if you wanna, but you’re staying in there until you figure it out!" Dawn called through the wood.

"Figure what out?" she cried back.

"Willow?"

Okay, that voice wasn’t outside.

Turning around, Willow felt her heart jolt at the sight of Hermione, sitting on a desk on the opposite side of the room. "H-Hermione."

The other witch smiled weakly, getting to her feet. "You know, I think there’s some kind of conspiracy going on here. Spike tossed me in here and told me to wait...and now, you’re here and we’re locked in again..."

"Yeah..."

Lowering her head, Willow shuffled her feet. She glanced around the room, which was almost bare but for a few desks piled in one corner. Her eyes paused on a mirror that stood by one wall, its large frame held up on gilded feet.

"Weird..."

"The mirror?"

Nodding, Willow approached it. "Yeah." She stared at it. "It...it looks familiar."

Hermione approached her, standing less than a foot away from the red head, the closest they had been in days. It caused such a sweet pain to be near her that Willow was hard-pressed to stifle a soft moan.

They looked at the mirror, then at the reflection, where their images gazed back out at them.

"We look good together," Hermione murmured. Willow turned to her in surprise, staring at her lover, who slowly drew her eyes away from the mirror. She sounded... sad? "I...I wish that we..."

"You..."

Hermione paused, gazing at her. "Willow..."

Tears burned in Willow’s eyes. "Please," she whispered unsteadily. "Don’t break up with me, Hermione... I don’t want to lose you, but you...I didn’t know you would be so upset about everyone knowing about us..."

"B-break up with you?" Hermione gasped. "I-I-I thought you were ashamed of us...I thought you didn’t want anyone to know..."

"Ashamed? Of us?"

"You aren’t?"

"I thought you were!"

They stared at each other, then Willow released a peal of laughter.

"Omigod! We are so stupid!"

"You don’t want to split up?"

Dropping her book to the floor, Willow lifted her hands and cupped Hermione’s face. "Does this answer your question?" she asked, as she closed the gap between them, their lips meeting.

Raising her hands to tangle through Willow’s fiery hair, Hermione pulled her young lover closer to her, as she deepened the kiss, their tears mingling into it.

"I thought you...oh God, I missed you, Hermione..." Willow clung to her, burying her face in Hermione’s neck. Hermione nodded, her own voice to choked to speak, her lips pressed to the top of Willow’s head.

It seemed like an eternity before she could speak.

"I love you, Willow."

Green eyes rose as Willow lifted her flushed face. "I love you too, Hermione," she whispered, one hand running lightly down Hermione’s equally-flushed cheek, before she claimed another light kiss.

Wrapping their arms around on another, they shared a tight embrace, unable to voice the intensity of the relief, the love and the...the bliss they were feeling at being together once more.

"Willow..."

"Mmm?"

"The mirror...look at the mirror..."

Shifting slightly in Hermione’s arms, Willow looked at it, then noticed something she hadn’t seen before: an inscription marked into the elaborate decorative scroll carved along the top of the mirror.

"Omigod...I...I only saw us in it..." Hermione nodded in awed agreement. "Does that mean that we...?"

"We must..." Hermione agreed.

Willow blinked, then turned back to the mirror. "Wow..."

"I-I thought Professor Dumbledore had got rid of it," Hermione whispered.

A third voice spoke from behind them. "I did."

Willow and Hermione both squealed in fright, whipping around to find the Head Master standing a short distance from them, a pleased smile on his face, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You really like sneakin’ up on people, don’tcha?" Willow said, wagging a finger at him, her other arm still looped around Hermione. "I’m gonna get you a bell!"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "So you are feeling a little happier, I assume?"

"You...you were part of the set up..."

"Very good, Professor Granger," he said, beaming at them. "Although, I am afraid to admit that the idea was certainly not mine. You have Miss Summers to thank for providing the means of bringing you back together."

"Dawnie?"

Dumbledore nodded. "She really is an exceptionally bright young woman."

"I dunno if we should hug her or hex her," Willow sighed in aggravation.

Hermione nudged her hip against Willow’s. "Well, she did get us back together..."

"Yeah..."

"Professor Dumbledore? Have you seen Willow...?" The door of the classroom opened, a bright slat of sunlight pouring in through the crack. Both witches raised their arms to shield their eyes, as Buffy Summers’ head poked in. "Oh! There you are, Wills! I just thought you’d wanna know your family just showed up!"

Hermione released Willow. "Want me to come with you?"

"Always," Willow replied with a smile, grabbing Hermione’s hand and running towards the door.

Stepping into the room, Buffy shook her head. "I really don’t get those guys," she said to Dumbledore, who chuckled. She looked around the room. "What were they doing in here anyways?"

"We had some matters to discuss and this seemed as suitable a place as any," he replied with a smile, stepping aside the instant that Professor Summers noticed the massive mirror beyond him.

"Neat mirror," she remarked. "Is it one of those talkie ones?"

"It happens to be one of the only non-talking mirrors in Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied, as she approached it and looked up at the frame.

"What’s the weird writing? Latin?"

"I am not sure what you would call it," he replied evasively, the corner of his lips twitching as she looked into the glass, at her reflection. Her eyes screwed up and her expression contorted into one of shock.

"EW!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Turning away from the mirror, she shuddered. "That’s some kind of hall-of-mirrors magic mirror, right?" she said, glancing over her shoulder at it, then shuddering again. "The kind that shows way freaky stuff?"

"I suppose you could say that," Dumbledore was hard-pressed to hide a smile and he innocently inquired, "May I know what you saw?"

Buffy pulled a face as she replied, "You don’t wanna know!"


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Whoo! Talk about a cop-out, eh? :D Now, place your bets about what Slaygal saw, if you’ve realised just what she was looking into :D Oh, come on! how could I resist! I’m a sucker for the HP world and if I can use everything I love about it, I intend to!

Coming Soon in the next chapter of The Eighth Weasley - Christmas comes to Hogwarts with all the madness that usually ensues, Willow and Hermione have news for the Weasleys, Buffy gets an unexpected Christmas gift, Snape hates his life and more!