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 58

Chapter Summary:
Chapter 58 -
Posted:
07/15/2004
Hits:
1,350
Author's Note:
There are so many reasons this chapter took as long as it did and while I would spend reams of text extolling the virtues of work and the lack of life it leaves you with, I'm sure you'd find that boring. Instead, enjoy the chapter :)

Spring was assuredly on its way at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On occasion the sun would peer out from behind misty threads of cloud, before hiding its face once more, though the warmth lingered on.

In the Great Hall of the school, a small knot of students were gathered around Dawn Summer and Duncan Cameron and, while they denied they were up to anything, it was obvious that some mischief was afoot.

"Dare I ask what they're up to?" Giles asked in an undertone, glancing at Minerva McGonagall out of the corner of his eye. They were providing staff presence in the study hours that were ongoing, seated at the high Table and feigning marking while, in fact, playing noughts and crosses.

"Growing paranoid, Mr. Giles?" Minerva's eyes were upon the parchment before her, but he could see the knowing curve of her lips. "After all, I hardly think that Miss Summers and Mr. Cameron could be that bad, compared to a certain other ruffian seated not too far from me."

Giles chose to ignore the retort that hung on the tip of his tongue, eyes darting back to the group of teenagers, one of whom had just turned an odd shade of purple. "It's not Dawn and Duncan's natures that I'm concerned about," he replied honestly. "It's the fact they've been in touch with Art's twins."

Green eyes lifted, a touch of consternation in them as she stared at Giles. "You let your young charge near the Weasley twins without supervision? Dear God, man! What were you thinking?"

"At the time," Giles retorted. "I was rather thinking about finding a cure for the potion Art slipped me, thank you very much. The daft bugger should know he shouldn't have double-crossed me like that!"

Minerva shook her head, chuckling softly. "Once a monkey, always a monkey," she said, looking around as the staff door opened, the lean form of Spike easing through and wandering over, flopping down in the seat beside her. "Afternoon, William."

"Mmm."

Two pairs of green eyes met, surprised, then Giles looked at the blond vampire and asked, "Spike, is something bothering you?"

The vampire seemed almost surprised to have been acknowledged and cast a wan grin at them. "Just thinking," he answered, swinging his feet up onto the staff table, lacing his fingers over his belly. "Not a crime, is it?"

With a firm thwack of a palm upon the back of a blond head, which succeeded in knocking the vampire's booted feet off the polished tabletop by default, Minerva sniffed. "In your case, it might well be, Billy."

"Daft cow," Spike's voice was warm, though his smile was little more than a twitch of his lips. Shifting, he sank down in the chair, scanning about the hall, before closing his eyes.

"So you come wandering all the way down here from our room to just fall into a chair and start sleeping?" Minerva almost sounded annoyed, but she was having great difficulty smothering a smile. "You really are a dreadfully lazy wretch."

"Had a late night," Spike mumbled drowsily. "Ended up chatting with the Bearded Wonder and I think I saw what a sunrise looks like through the magic roof thingie, but I'm not sure. Might have been Niblet setting her bed on fire."

"Spike! You were meant to be watching Dawn," Giles' voice was low, angry. "It was your respons..."

"Mate, you want a baby-sitter who doesn't get bored and look for something more interesting to do, look somewhere else, right? I just gave 'em both some biscuits with a nice sleeping draught in 'em. Didn't have any trouble after that."

"You... drugged Dawn and Duncan?"

Blue eyes opened, regarding him lazily. "Well, if you wanna put it that way, yeah," he replied, amusement clear in his tone. "Watched 'em sleeping like babies for a bit, then went for a chat with Old Dumble."

"Spike..."

"Giles, mate, I," he said, pointing at himself, speaking very slowly to be sure that Giles understood what he was saying. "Am a vam-pire." He made an almost Monty-Python gesture of fangs with his fingers. "I do bad things. I knock out the kids in my care. I abandon my baby-sitting duties." With every statement, a more horrified look crossed his face. "I am evil!"

"And the fact that you were doing babysitting duties in the first place does not in any way undermine your statement that you are, in fact, a terribly evil vampire," Minerva said innocently, not looking up from the page she was marking.

Spike scowled at her. "Minnie, luv, you're ruining my reputation."

"No, Billy," she looked up and smiled sweetly at him. "You're successfully doing that all by yourself."

"Cow."

"Bunny." She counted off on her fingers, reaching four before he spoke.

"Give me time, luv, and I'll kill you."

"Kill me, eh?"

"Yeah. Kill you. Dead."

Chuckling, she returned her attention to her marking. "You almost scared me that time, Billy."

Spike snorted petulantly. "Just so you know," he said. "I hate you all. A lot."

Blindly, Minerva reached out and patted him on the head. "Of course you do, Billy, dear," she said fondly.

***

"But it's meant to be romantic!"

Seated in his private rooms, reading a newspaper, as Anya flounced about, making impatient gestures, Albus merely smiled serenely. "But we are in a school, so I hardly imagine the children would appreciate the sentimental motivation behind the festival."

With the long weekend just started and no classes or complaints to deal with, the Head Master had been enjoying a quiet morning, when Anya had dropped in for a visit, immediately after breakfast.

Of course, it wasn't rare for her to be in the Head Master's eccentrically-decorated rooms, the colourful tapestries clashing horribly with the vivid rugs and numerous shades of wood panelling.

Not to mention the immense brass hood over the hearth, which was covered with charmed engravings of Dumbledore's sweet of choice for the day. Today, it was After Eight Mints.

The former demon folded her arms. "You just don't like romantic things! I thought you would humour me and let me do this! It's what men are meant to do for their... special person! I read it on a greeting card!"

"Anya," the newspaper was lowered and the Head Master regarded her with fond amusement. "If you wish to celebrate the death of a Saint, then by all means, be my guest, but I cannot allow you to disrupt the students. I simply find the whole situation rather tedious."

"But I am your guest, Albus," Brown eyes flashed in annoyance. "And I want for you to let the students have a Valentine's party! With cards! And rude greetings! And blushing children!" Approaching him where he sat close to the fireplace, she knelt down beside him, placing a hand imploringly on his sleeve. "Please, Albus?"

Folding the paper, he studied her, eyes bright behind his spectacles. "You really want to celebrate this?" he said. "Might I ask why?"

Anya frowned. "Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I do!" she replied, glaring at him. "That should be reason enough! I want you to humour me or I will be most annoyed! I have only had one Valentine's day as a human since I lost my powers and now, you're ruining the second one! I thought you liked me and now, you're spoiling the romantic day before it even happens! Most celebrations aren't ruined until during the day, but you're ruining it the day before and I don't like it!"

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Anya..."

"Forget it!" Throwing her hands up, Anya scrambled onto her feet, stamping towards the door. "If you want to be the... Ebeneezer Scrooge of Valentine's Day, I don't care! Sit and say 'bah hamburg!'! See if I care!"

"Anya, wait a moment," Rising from his chair, Dumbledore raised a hand in a slow, placating gesture. "I need to tell you something."

A hopeful look crossed Anya's face. "Oh?"

"Yes," He smiled at her. "It's 'Bah, humbug', not hamburg."

The former demon blinked at him and uttered a litany of expletives that turned the Head Master's ears pink, before turning and storming out of the door, slamming it behind her with enough force to instigate a squawk of protest from Fawkes.

Chuckling, Dumbledore reached out to the brass fireplace hood, muttering the charm that allowed him to pick a mint from the metal. "Well, Albus, she really is going to hurt you dreadfully when she finds out what you've done."

"Yes, she really is," his own portrait replied from the wall behind him. "We are dreadful, aren't we?"

Smiling, Dumbledore nodded, resuming his seat. "We most certainly are."

***

"You doin' anythin'?"

Buffy ducked under a punch. "Why would I be?"

Both of the Slayers were in one of the training rooms on the ground level, taking the chance to practise since Buffy's classes were finished for the long weekend and Faith was wanting some sparring practise.

Clad in form-fitting shirts and pants, both of them had their long hair drawn back in ponytails, the chilly sunlight light spilling through the high windows like an immense spotlight as they went through their routines on the polished wood of the floor.

Flipping back to avoid the kick the blonde Slayer directed at her legs, Faith landed on her feet, dropping into a crouch. "I dunno, B," she replied, eyes dancing. "You and tall, dark n' gloomy seemed to be hittin' it off in a big unresolved-tension kinda way."

Giving her sister-Slayer a smug look, Buffy retorted, "Who said there was anything unresolved about it?"

Brown eyes bugged and Buffy sucker-punched Faith, knocking her squarely on her backside on the floor. Accepting the hand the blonde offered her, Faith pulled herself upright, still staring at Buffy in astonishment.

"You mean you got in under old Cranky's batcape? Well, B, I gotta say you got me impressed."

The elder Slayer laughed. "I never said that," she replied, eyes dancing. "But it made you look so I could knock you down."

"Dirty tactics, huh?" Dark brows wiggled implicitly. "Gotta say the guy gotta be slippin' you the good stuff to make you do the dirty on me, big sister."

"Faith!"

"Like you're surprised."

The blonde's smile was rueful. "I guess I should have remembered." she observed, dusting her hands down on her pants.

"C'mon, B," Faith grinned at her, eyes dancing. "Sure, you're all robed up and makin' out with the big, bad broody Batman wannabe! You thought I'd be any different just cos you've Glinda-ed out on me?"

The blonde raised her eyebrows. "Just because I'm helping teach here doesn't mean I'm all... witchy."

"Uh-huh. Says the Slayer who is always wearin' those robey things."

"Hey! They keep me warm, okay?"

Brown eyes glittered with amusement, forearm blocking a punch. "You sure you don't use 'em to get your boy hot and bothered? You got that cute little set of buttons fastened right across your ti..."

"FAITH!"

The dark-haired Slayer laughed. "Where'd you get 'em anyhow? Even Red isn't runnin' around in things as nice as them."

"You've been checking out what Willow's wearing?"

"Hey, now I know she plays that side of the field as well, I don't gotta feel guilty about lookin', do I?"

Buffy blinked. "And just got a visual I so didn't need."

"Glad to be of service," Faith smirked. "So, where'd'ya get 'em?"

Buffy glanced across at the deep blue robes, which were slung over the training vault, then shrugged. "Giles said they were to apologise for screwing up a potion that I ended up drinking."

"G-man picked out something like that?" Faith snorted, sweeping Buffy's legs out from underneath her. "Sure."

"Why the cross-examination?" A flip brought the blonde back to her feet. "Don't tell me you want some..."

An odd expression flitted across Faith's face, then she half-smiled. "Kinda thought it might be a good idea to try and sorta fit in a bit more," she said, almost succeeding in sounding off-handed.

Buffy slowly started to grin. "I see what you're doing," she said, her eyes dancing. "I think this is all so you can get robes so Sirius doesn't feel too bad about being involved with a mugger."

"That would be 'Muggle', B."

"I'm right, though, aren't I? You want to look good for your puppy."

"My puppy?" Faith snorted. "He'd be pissed off if he heard ya callin' him that."

Buffy grinned. "Sirius angry with me?" She hefted one of the quarterstaffs to Faith, who caught it right away. "He's too scared that I'll rip his arms off. Or something." She smirked. "He was kinda freaked by how strong I was and hasn't really looked at me the same since he saw me killing a pack of demons."

Raising her staff to block a blow, Faith raised her brows. "So Red wasn't kiddin' when she said Sirius had a thing for you?"

"Sirius looks a lot," Buffy replied, easily diverting a blow aimed at her head. "But I think you're the first person he's got close to." Faith quirked a brow. "You jumped on him, Faith. The guy's never had anyone do that."

"You point out the cookies, I taste 'em," Faith replied with a nonchalant shrug and grin that was belied by the warmth in her expression, which had emerged at the first mention of the dark-haired Animagus.

"You know what I mean," Buffy said, shaking her head, as she blocked another sharp swipe from the other Slayer's staff. "He's not usually into the doing-things-thing because of everything that happened."

"Everything being his friend screwing him over and leaving him to rot in jail?"

The blonde looked a little chagrined. "Faith..."

"B, you had every reason to hate me," the dark-haired girl said, planting the end of her staff on the floor at her feet and studying her sister Slayer. "I don't blame you for wantin' to see me go down. Hell, I don't blame me for wantin' to get sent down. I did things and there's no way could even try and make up for 'em without doin' the time for it."

"It's my fault, Faith..."

Brown eyes rolled expressively. "B, don't even go there." Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but the dark girl held up a hand. "I screwed up. I wanted to think you were tryin' to prove you were better than me. I hated it because..." She sighed. "I hated it because they were right and the more I screwed up, the more right they were."

Buffy frowned. "I still shouldn't have left you to deal with it on your own."

"B, you tried, remember?" Faith sighed again. "Look, it's way over now. It doesn't matter anymore." A hand that still bore faint scars was held out. "We're buddies, sisters at arms, right?"

The older Slayer nodded, grasping Faith's hand at once. "You bet." she said, her expression warming. "I'm glad you're here, Faith. I don't think we could have done this without you on our side."

Faith actually looked like she was blushing, rolling her eyes. "Sure, B. You're just tryin' to kiss my ass, so I won't kick yours."

"You know me too well," Buffy said, laughing, though she couldn't help feeling a little relieved that proper peace had been made between them now.

There had always been that guilt gnawing at her, ever since she had seen the state Faith was in when she had been busted out of jail. Now, though, they were friends again, and she had a feeling it would turn out better this time.

"So... Sirius..." Hazel eyes twinkled. "What's going on with you two? Is it serious?"

"B, this is me we're talkin' about. I don't do serious."

"But you do do Sirius?"

Faith groaned. "I'm gonna have to kick your ass for that, B." she cautioned. "Bad puns, yeah, okay, you're the Slayer, you gotta make the big bads worry, but that... That was seriously crap."

Buffy whirled her staff, tossing it to her left hand. "You can try," she challenged, taking up a defensive stance, both girls grinning as they started to fight afresh.

***

"He won't be happy about this," Willow mumbled.

She was sitting on the lawn of the castle, near the lake, close to Hermione, putting the finishing touches on a note with a charmed quill that she had sent to her elder brother. Her claim was that he would know if it was a good one. He had immediately sent it back, saying it was shoddy quality.

However, what Percy did not realise was that - by using the quill - he had generously offered a specimen of his hand-writing.

"It's for his own good," Hermione replied decisively, lying on her belly on a smoothly spread tartan blanket on the grass and continuing to work on her own letter. "He'll never get up the nerve to ask her without us to give him a helping hand."

Willow frowned. "And what if she says no?"

"To a date on Valentine's Day?" A third voice interrupted, both girls looking up as a pair of shadows stretched over them both. "Puh-lease! Even if its an English guy, a lame date is better than no date!"

"Cordelia! That's my brother you called lame!" Willow protested, shifting a little as Cordelia dropped down on the blanket beside her, Lorne setting up his own deck chair on the grass and adjusting his shades, shaking his head in amusement as he straightened a reflective board under his face, a magically-chilled Seabreeze settled on a hovering tray at his hand-level.

The demon had taken to the magic lifestyle like a very green and stylish duck to water, especially after the discovery that his very nature meant he was capable of performing some basic charms without thought. His favourite was present, in the form of his hovering cocktail tray.

"And?" the dark-haired girl responded to the red head with a grin. "I notice you don't correct me. So... which brother is it, who are you setting him up with and how high on the oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-kill-you embarrassing level is it?"

"We're not setting anyone up, persay," Hermione looked offended. "We... we're giving Percy a bit of a helping hand."

"Percy? As in red-haired Wesley?"

The two witches exchanged looks, then grinned sheepishly. "I guess he is kinda... Wesley-ish..." Willow admitted. "Y'know, before Wesley got all Rogue-Demon-Huntery and stuff and... hey! Do you think Percy would be a good Rogue Demon Hunter?"

"Sweetpea, please!" Lorne raised a hand from beneath his sun-reflecting screen. "I so don't need to see your brothers on motorbikes, wearing black leather and trying for the love of Travolta to be butch!"

"Wrong brother," Hermione snickered. "You're thinking of Bill."

"Red, sweets, you have way too many brothers," the demon complained, settling back in his seat. "And if I'm gonna make a recommendation for a nice lil date, try somewhere stylish and with a certain..."

"Expensiveness?" Cordelia finished. Lorne opened one scarlet eye. "What? A girl wants to be spoiled."

"You more than most, cutie," Lorne replied, closing his eye again.

Pulling a face at the demon, Cordelia turned her gaze back to the two girls. "So what have you got planned for the lovebirds? And who is the girl whose about to be Wesley-fied?"

"We've arranged for them to go out for dinner."

"Romantic dinner," Hermione added with a broad smile.

"The kind without death and blood and guts."

"And with candlelight and food."

"So, pretty much the kind that doesn't usually involve anyone who has ever lived in Sunnydale?" Cordelia hazarded a guess.

"Yeah!" Willow said brightly, then frowned. "Except Amy is kinda Sunnydaley..."

"Amy?" Looking from one girl to the other, Cordelia cocked her head, frowning a little. "Rat-Amy? You're setting up Rat-Amy with your brother? Doesn't she kinda... have a thing for... uh... the other one of your brothers? With... uh... the red hair?"

"See, here's the not-so-good thing," Willow laid the quill down and dropped her hand to rest on her girlfriend's back as she spoke. "Amy likes Ron, but Ron is... well..."

"Ron," Hermione finished. "He never sees what's right in front of him. He likes Buffy. And when I say like, if you watch him when he's close to her, he's practically drooling on her shoes."

"Typical Buffy-induced reaction then," Cordelia's nose wrinkled. "So you think Rat-Amy would want to go out with this other-brother because...?"

"Because Percy fancies the knickers off her and Percy never ever fancies anyone."

"So... instead of Ron-drooling-on-Buffy, you're going for the Percy-drooling-on-Amy-drooling-on-Ron-drooling-on-Buffy?" Cordelia shook her head. "Sounds like perfect material for Oprah. And dinner? You think that would be enough to change her mind about red-Wes?"

Hermione looked up at the girl in exasperation. "Well, do you have any suggestions, then?"

Cordelia slowly started to smile.

"Oh God..." Willow groaned.

"Trust me. With your witchiness and me on your side," Cordelia all but purred, a speculative gleam in her eyes that did nothing to reassure Hermione or Willow. "By the time Percy's done, Amy won't even remember Ron's name."

Lorne slanted a red-eyed glance at the trio, the chuckled. "And this, ladies, is why I stay out of female affairs."

***

"Y'know, just sometimes, I kinda hate being normal."

Gunn grinned across the table at the younger man who was sitting opposite him in The Three Broomsticks, who was morosely nursing a butterbeer, as if it was his only friend in the world. "Hey, we get time off. Don't knock it."

Xander looked up. "Yeah, but I'm bored."

"Not our fault we can't read that wizard shit," Gunn offered. It was true, that. While Gunn hadn't even tried, Xander had struggled through a book of history of Wizard society and had been forced to give up, the spells and incantations far beyond anything he could even hope to understand.

"But we don't even have anything to kill here," Xander grumbled. "At least at home, I had vampires I could dust."

"And there y'all go soundin' all homicidal and crazy and scarin' away the nice magic people," Charles chuckled, shaking his head.

With a sheepish look, Xander waved vaguely at a little witch, who was beating a hasty retreat towards the door. "I'll stop now," he promised, then glowered down at his beer for several minutes. Gunn could nearly count the seconds to perfection until there was another huff of frustration. "I want to be doing something."

Sipping his firewhisky, the older man didn't look at him. "I couldn't tell."

Xander smiled ruefully. "I guess we could always go and see Aragog," he suggested, a smirk playing about his lips.

"No." Gunn said firmly. "And make it a Hell no. I ain't goin' near no big ass spider."

"Scared?"

Charles studied the image he had been looking at for several minutes. "No, but I think you should be, if you got a brain in that pretty head of yours," he said, slowly smiling as he looked back at Xander. "You are screwed."

"Huh?"

With a slight incline of his head, Gunn nodded towards a sign. "You forgettin' what date it is?"

Xander followed the direction of Gunn's look, then - realising what he was seeing - his face went white. "But it can't be then already, because we only came over here... quite a while back now... oh God... she'll kill me..."

Gunn smirked. "Scared?"

Looking at him, pushing aside the butterbeer, Xander was on his feet and heading for the door.

"At least you got somethin' to keep you busy now," Gunn called after him, then turned with a broad smile to the younger of the two barmaids, making the universal gesture that she should join him. "And so," he muttered to himself, unable to stop himself grinning. "Do I."

***

"If you don't deal with her, baby, you're leaving me no choice."

Lucius planted himself between Glory and the door, his expression deadly serious, grey eyes glittering like gunmetal in the late afternoon light that was peering lazily through the window of the study. "You will not touch her."

Glory glowered at him. "And you're gonna stop me? How exactly you planning on that, cupcake? And remember I can squish your pretty little head like a grape," One manicured hand shot out and almost lifted Lucius off the floor, jerking him closer to the Goddess's face. "You don't wanna make me cranky."

Grey eyes stared coldly at her. "You forget you cannot get what you need without me," he said coolly, calm and devoid of fear. He had not been one of Voldemort's elite without learning to control and mask his emotions.

"Yeah, but if she keeps on stickin' her nose in, we're not going to get in anyway, are we?" Glory snarled, throwing him away from her without enough force to smash him through the study door and send him scudding across the floor to land in a dishevelled heap on the other side of the passage.

Struggling onto his feet, pressing a hand to his bruised shoulder, Lucius glared back at the woman.

"I told you I will take care of this matter, Glory," he said, calm, cold. "Despite what you may think on the matter, she is my wife and therefore, she is my responsibility. If you touch her, I am afraid our relationship would come to an end." There was almost the suggestion of a smirk on thin, pale lips. "Which would be rather... unfortunate for you, considering how far we have come."

The Goddess folded her arms upon her chest, hate simmering on her features. "I'm really startin' to not like you, poodle," she observed darkly. "Yeah, you're useful, but you're not the only person I could use..."

Even as the words escaped her, Lucius smirked and both of them knew why.

He was the only one likely to help her. Too many half-bloods and Muggle-borns had lost loved ones to her mind-drain. Many others were too afraid of the repercussions. He was the only one self-indulgent enough to risk his life by assisting her.

With an almost mocking bow, Lucius inclined his head. "As I said, ma'am, I will see to our little problem as I see fit." Turning away from her, he limped away without looking back, leaving Glory seething and itching for a chance for her own revenge.

***

"Giles! You're not helping!"

Looking up from the parchments he was attempting to mark without anyone to distract him, Giles exhaled a frustrated breath. "Do tell me, Xander, is there a sign on my door which suggests I have the vaguest idea what you should get Cordelia for Valentine's day?"

"But you're a guy! An old..." Giles' brows lifted in challenge. "Older," Xander hastily amended, leaning on the other side of the desk, the torches hanging on the walls casting dancing shadows and light upon them, the evening sky a dull grey as the sun disappeared beyond the mountains. "Guy! You should know what to get for people that won't annoy them!"

"Xander, do recall my fortunes with women since you have met me."

Brown eyes blinked, then realisation passed across his face. "Oh."

"Yes, oh. Even you have been more successful than I."

"So you don't have any idea...?" The former Watcher exhaled a sharp breath through his nostrils. "Uh... okay... I guess some kinda flowers or something would be good."

"Xander, this is Cordelia we are discussing. I hardly think flowers would be the most definitive choice."

"Then what?"

"Some elaborate token, perhaps."

"Jewellery?"

Giles massaged his forehead with his fingertips, his other hand making an abrupt dismissive gesture. "Find someone closer to your own age to harass, Xander. I'm hardly the expert in young womens' tastes and I do have rather a lot of work to do at the moment."

"Right... uh... do you think Gunn or Wesley..." The question trailed off into silence as green eyes lifted to him in disbelief. "Uh... I guess not." Xander flashed his best puppy-dog grin at the older man. "I'll be going now."

Bending back over his vast accumulation of paperwork, Giles muttered something that sounded strangely like "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

However, just when it seemed he might actually get some work done, the door opened again. He didn't even deign to lift his head, his eyes flicking up briefly, then back down to the page before him.

"Mister Giles..."

"Just Giles will suffice, Hermione."

"Very well, Giles... do you know what Willow's stance is on Valentine's day? I mean, personally I find it a rather commercial holiday, but I don't want to upset her by not getting a card or something for her."

Green eyes closed. Bloody fabulous.

"Giles?"

Placing his pen down, removing his glasses and folding his hands on the desk, Giles lifted his attention to the witch. "I'm afraid I have never been involved with Willow, Hermione, so I can hardly be the one to inform you of her tastes. Up until two months ago, as far as I was aware, Willow liked men, so as you can see, I'm hardly an expert on the matter."

A sheepish grin crossed Hermione's lips. "I suppose that's true." Glancing at the heap of pages before him, she winced a little. "I ought to leave you to finish those," she said, before making a break for the door, no doubt expecting his request for aid, the heavy panel of wood slamming closed heavily behind her.

Swiping his hands over his face, the former Watcher exhaled a breath.

Honestly, sometimes the adults were so much worse than the children!

And it was only made worse by the fact that his own adopted brood of the so-called Slayerettes seemed to be expanding by the month, a veritable swarm of young adults looking to him for advice and guidance.

"Rupert!"

"Minerva," With a voice that sounded like it was tightly drawn, Giles smiled thinly at the Professor standing in the doorway. "If you have come to me for advice on Valentine's Day, I would much prefer that you leave me. Or kindly perform the avada upon me."

"What on earth are you on about, man?" Minerva huffed in exasperation, hands on her hips, as she looked around the room. "I'm looking for Billy. The bloody wretch filched my wand again and I need it."

Giles blinked.

"I suppose that means you haven't seen him, then. Well, if you do, tell him that when I lay my hands on him, I won't need a stake to do the work I have in mind."

With that, she swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Returning his attention to the work before him, Giles was very proud of the fact that he managed to get four whole scrolls marked before the door opened again. He dared a glance, then looked back down at the papers.

"Good evening, Faith."

"Hey, G."

A frown furrowed his brow. No questions? Looking up, he watched the Slayer wander the length of the dim classroom, trailing her fingers along the desks and looking around, as if interested. "Can I help you with something?"

"Me?" Faith grinned at him in a way that did nothing to reassure him. "Nah."

Paranoia immediately kicked in.

"Dare I ask why you're here?"

The dark-haired Slayer shrugged. "Just curious about B's class," she replied, bending to peer at one of the dummies. "What's this do?"

"Serves for target practise."

A book was hefted. "For reading, right?"

"Obviously."

The Slayer hopped up onto one of the desks and glanced up at the skeleton suspended from the ceiling on chains. "What's that?"

Taking off his glasses and polishing them on his shirt, Giles sighed. "I believe it is the skeleton of a dragon."

"No shit!" Faith exclaimed, leaping down. "So they're real, huh?" The former Watcher nodded, picking up his quill again. "You seen them?" Another impatient nod, Giles' attention back on the papers in front of him. "Where'd they come from?"

"What?" he inquired, distracted.

"B's robes?"

"Severu..." Giles caught himself, green eyes meeting brown, startled and Faith's lips curled in a grin.

"Thanks, G," she said cheerfully, turning and strolling back towards the door. "All I wanted to know."

"That was unfair!"

The Slayer whirled around, flashing a smirk at him. "That's life, G!" she said, laughing, her eyes dancing. "I'll pass on old Cranky's compliments to B. She was wonderin' where those things came from."

Sinking down in his seat, Giles groaned as the door closed. "Severus will bloody well kill me..."

***

"Woof."

In the large bedroom on the high floor of the castle, three girls slept on.

"Woof!"

A dark-haired teenager rolled over onto her other side, pulling a blanket over her shoulder, muttering something incoherent. The bed further across the room, a blonde was smiling in her sleep.

"Woof?!"

In the bed closest to the window, a dark-haired young woman flopped onto her back, the heavy blankets and sheets hanging half-off the bed, one lean leg dangling over the side of the mattress.

"WOOF!!!"

The hooded face peering in the condensation-misted window twisted in an impatient expression and gave up on the quiet facade, rapping on the glass, with a loud and pointed hiss of, "Hey! I said woof!"

Starting, all three girls jolted upright. Out of bed in an instant, Faith whipped an axe and dagger out from somewhere beneath her blankets, then stopped short at the window and rolled her eyes.

"Who is it?" Buffy demanded, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She, like Faith, had moved on sheer instinct and was standing by Dawn's bed, in front of her sister, a short sword in one hand, her other hand on the half-asleep Dawn's shoulder.

"A dumb dog," Faith replied, laughing and reaching up to undo the brass catch on the window, pulling the heavy window inwards and giving the innocently-blinking Sirius a look. "What the hell are you doin', dumbass?"

Sirius pushed back his hood and shifted on his toes on the window-sill, cocking his head. "I thought I better make sure I got you first this morning," he said, then held out a hand to her. "Would you like to go out with me?"

"Huh?"

"Oh God," Buffy groaned, pulling Dawn's blankets up to tuck her sleeping-again sister in more snugly before approaching the pair at the window. "You couldn't get a normal one, could you?"

"Normalcy is for people who find reality a nice place to live," Sirius said sagely, then looked to Faith, his smile dashing. "And as I just said I'm here to ask you to go out with me."

"Now?" Faith gaped at him. "In the middle of the night?"

He shrugged. "Can't think of a better time," he said, then nodded out over the grounds, the near-full moon casting a faint glow over the mountains in the distance and shimmering a faint reflection on the lake, between wisps of cloud. "Its quiet and there's no one to stop us." He gave her a meaningful look and she knew exactly why he had chosen to come and find her this way. "I thought you might like it."

"Yeah, sure I like weird guys showin' up at my window and askin' me out... totally normal for me," she replied, then glanced beyond him, half-expecting to see a broom hovering behind him. "Uh... Sirius, how'd'you get up here anyhow? We're more than five levels up."

The wizard's eyes gleamed. "I travel in style," he replied, whistling softly.

With a slap of wings, a strange and magnificent creature rose into view, an eagle's body to the fore and a horse's to the rear, great golden eyes staring down at the Slayer who took a step back, staring at the creature.

"Holy..."

Reaching out, Sirius clapped a hand against the... thing's neck. "This beautiful little creature is Buckbeak," he said, then looked at Faith, his eyes bright. "So... do you want to come out with me?"

Faith glanced back at Buffy, who just shook her head grinning. "Go and play," the blonde Slayer said. "I can hold the fort for a while."

"You sure, B?"

Buffy nodded. "Positive."

In less than an instant, Faith had slung a dagger belt on with a muttered explanation of 'in case' and was climbing onto Buckbeak's back behind Sirius, wrapping her arms around him waist, shifting short-clad legs to settle as comfortably as she could on the hippogriff's back.

"You better be okay when I get back, B," she cautioned, as Buffy approached to close the window. "Or I'm gonna be pissed. I wanna see how you know who reacts to you know what."

"You're a sick woman, Faith," Buffy laughed. "Now go! Have fun!"

Faith's eyes danced. "Always do, B!" she called, as Sirius jabbed Buckbeak's sides and the Hippogriff rose in the air, soaring away from the castle as Buffy closed the window, unable to smother a small smile.

***

Soft footfalls carried around the Great Hall.

Shadowy figures moved with specific intent.

Flickers of light indicated that enchantments were being cast.

"You do know she'll want to kill you," one of the three figures said in lowered tones, as he hurried after the ring leader of the particular group currently placing jinxes and spells all over the massive chamber.

"That is, in part, my reason."

Blue eyes met blue. "You're a weird bloke, y'know."

"It has been observed."

A smaller figure hurried up to them. "How much more do you intend to do?"

The leader smiled serenely. "Every inch."

"What? Even the Gargoyles?"

"Of course."

"But you know how much they complain..."

The older wizard looked down. "Every inch. I intend to make this a... unique experience to say the very least."

"And don't forget to do something about that chair of hers!"

The leader regarded the only wandless person in the trio. "And you are aware that she will most likely kill you, if you even consider such a thing, do you not?"

There was a flash of a grin that had the potential to be utterly wicked. "Well, if I knew how to work this thing," A slender stick was raised and waggled dramatically from side to side. "I would leave her a surprise myself, but knowing my luck..."

"You would most likely blow us all to Kingdom come," the smallest of the trio said, jumping up and snatching the wand from the young man's hand. "How on earth did you manage to run off with this?"

"Run off?" He looked grievously offended at the words. "Look, mate, you make me sound disreputable. I borrowed it fair and square, depending on my good looks, charm and manners to win me through."

"You stole it."

"Well, yeah, that too." There was a huff. "I'm evil. Everyone keeps forgetting."

"And why, pray tell, did you want it?" the smallest one squeaked.

"Thought I might be able to pull off some kind of... y'know... hocus pocus like you two and give the old bat... er... I mean, all the kiddies a bit of a treat in the morning, but it didn't work." He glared at the wand. "Its a bloody dud, that's what it is."

"In case you had forgotten," the eldest of the trio added, trying desperately to hide a smile. "You were also a Muggle..." He raised a hand, silencing the younger's protests. "Whether or not you are in possession of a rather fine and feral demon."

There was a moment of silence, then the wand was snatched back, the younger man scowling grumpily.

"You and your sodding logic!" He made a grand gesture around the hall. "So, get on with it then! Both of you and your oh-so-not-Muggle magic that I can't do because I'm not supernatural enough... bloody ridiculous, this... hundred and twenty-eight bloody years being bloody undead and I'm not bloody supernatural bloody enough..." There was a pause and, as an afterthought, he added, "Bloody!"

"Language, William."

"What a-bloody-bout it?" The older wizard regarded him intently. "Evil. Look it up, mate. I'm not about to apologise." Blue eyes remained fixed on him and the vampire's eyes started watering. "No! I don't apologise! I'm the big bad!" Blue eyes didn't blink once. "All right, all right! I won't swear! Right?" The wizard looked away and the vampire muttered, "Sodding free country, my arse..."

"Big bad, eh?" the smallest of the three said, as he returned to charming the High Table. "Now I may be somewhat sceptical, but you've stolen that wand so often, that I really do believe that you're trying to compensate for something."

"Oy! Shortarse! I heard that!"

The tiny figure turned back with a beaming smile. "And yet," he said. "I hear no denial from you."

The vampire stuck out his tongue and shook the wand uselessly with a sullen mutter of, "I hate tiny gits with logic." He turned just in time to receive a carefully aimed mouthful of soapsuds from the Head Master. "Oh bwuwy heww."

"Language, William," the wizard repeated amiably, smiling as he turned his attention back to the chairs behind the High Table.

Behind him, the vampire just glowered and grumbled around the bubbles. "And you're meant to be the good wizard... yeah right..."

***

Standing in the middle of the clearing, Faith tilted her head skywards, closing her eyes as the night breeze whispered over her skin, carrying the scent of the trees that surrounded them and the distant, clear flavour of the lake in the air.

It was so quiet.

She couldn't help noticing it.

Even at night in the castle, there was always some kind of noise, whether it was a painting chatting with its neighbour, someone running through the corridor or even the harmonious snores of the Summers sisters.

Here, there were only the sounds of nature at rest.

Well... almost.

Beyond her, she could hear the sound of hoofed and clawed feet thumping on the ground and the cracking of dry twigs as Buckbeak bounded between the trees, most likely chasing whatever unfortunate creature was squeaking there.

Softer, though, were the muted chuckles of Sirius as he watched his pet at play.

Turning, she looked around at Sirius, who had just apparently induced some kind of odd game of tag with the Hippogriff, ducking behind a tree as Buckbeak scrambled down the small grassy verge, bright eyes seeking out the dark-haired human.

As Buckbeak drew nearer, Sirius eased around the tree, reaching out to swat at the Hippogriff's flowing tail. Buckbeak rounded in a blur, only to find his 'assailant' gone, a screeching sound ringing in the air as he cantered back around the tree even as Sirius darted over to another tree.

Setting herself down on a fallen tree trunk, the Slayer laughed aloud as the huge beast started chasing after the black dog that had just sped out from behind a looming oak, both animals tumbling in a heap.

A split-second later, Sirius was wriggling out from beneath Buckbek's paws, laughing and shaking his hair out of his face, Buckbeak rubbed his vast head against the man's side, uttering a strange, soughing, purring sound.

Straightening up, Sirius reached up and smoothed his hand over Buckbeak's head, the affection apparent in his eyes, his other hand running down the Hippogriff's feathered throat.

"You really are a silly sod, you," he murmured, almost stumbling over backwards when Buckbeak bowed his imperious head and nudged him fondly in the belly. "Oy! Be careful, would you?"

Another rattling purr sounded from Buckbeak's throat before his broad, sharp beak nudged against Sirius' cheek, a beak that could have torn the man's head off, had Buckbeak wanted to.

"If you two wanna be alone," Faith offered, grinning at Sirius as she stretched out her legs to let her toes skim the long grass. "Just point me in the right direction and I'll be going."

Giving Buckbeak's head a shove, Sirius grinned over at her apologetically, easing around the Hippogriff to wander over and sit on the ground by the tree trunk which she presently occupied, his back pressing against the damp bark, one hand rising without thought to trace rough fingertips down the side of her calf.

"Sorry," he said, tilting his head back to look up at her, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "I sometimes forget that being sociable actually means talking to the person I asked out instead of arsing around with my daft pet."

Reaching down to disentangle some twigs from his unruly hair, Faith gave him a look. "You were all for lettin' him hump you," she said teasingly. "You didn't say nothin' about this bein' a threeway when you came a-knockin' on my window."

Blue eyes blinked at her several times from a horror-stricken face.

Faith smirked. "Still got the gift of the imagery, huh?"

"Exquisitely so," Sirius replied weakly. He shifted his head a little as she continued to comb pieces of moss and dirt out of his hair, leaning his head into her touch like a dog demanding a petting.

In front of them, Buckbeak stamped around in a circle, as if looking for some new entertainment then - clearly annoyed by the lack of attention - uttered a shriek and rose into the air, carrying himself away over the trees.

"There goes our lift," Faith remarked. "My mom'll be pissed if I'm home late."

"Your... mother?" The sudden look of panic that crossed Sirius' face was endearing. "If... if this is going to be a problem, I could always call him back, if..."

Faith swatted the top of his head. "I was talkin' about B, dumbass," she replied with a chuckle. "No need to look so damn scared. She ain't about to come over here to spank your ass for shamin' her little girl." Her eyes glinted. "It's B you wanna watch out for. B looks out for me. Needs someone as good as she is to watch her back."

"Modest too, I see."

"Takes one to know one, I guess," Faith said, smiling.

"That Buffy... she is a nice girl, isn't she?"

"Mmm."

"She's... ah..."

"Cute? Sweet? Smart?" Faith offered resignedly.

"Um..." Swivelling to kneel up in front of her, resting his arms on her thighs, he cocked his dark head in a canine fashion. "I was more thinking 'strong enough to rip my arms off and use them as Quidditch clubs so I will try to avoid annoying her any time soon' actually." He gave her a lop-sided grin. "You see, I have this ridiculous self-preservation tendency."

Faith's smile was faint. "Yeah..."

"Note to self," Sirius added, wagging a severe finger at himself. "Be a very good boyfriend. Never underestimate the importance of chocolates and silly little random presents that cost an arm and a leg, though not literally because that would be rather... er... what is it?" He knelt up, tentatively touching Faith's cheek. "If you don't like chocolate, I'm sure I could find something else."

"It's not that, dumbass," Faith's voice was trembling as much as the hand on his shoulder was.

"Er... was it the expensive presents, then? I can work with cheap, if that would suit you better..."

"No," Faith swatted him, though it was a feeble gesture. "You said 'boyfriend'."

Sirius looked genuinely confused. "Is that bad?" One look at Faith's face seemed to tell him the answer to that and he pulled his hand back, as if he had been burnt. "Or too quick?"

Faith shook her head, reaching up to grasp the hand that had just pulled away from her face. "First time," she said, a hesitant smile flitting onto her lips. "At least, first time for real."

Sirius stared at her. "You have to be joking."

"What can I say?" Faith offered weakly. "I've never been one for sticking around to see how things'll go."

"You're.. um... sticking around now."

Faith laughed quietly. "Yeah. You scared my lift away."

"So, if I keep on scaring your lift away..."

The Slayer regarded him, then smiled, almost shyly. "Then I guess I'll have to keep on sticking around, won't I?"

By the light of the waxing moon, Sirius' eyes shone and he smiled.

***

It was disconcerting how a completely habitual matter could become so frightening.

Valentine's Morning found Narcissa Malfoy waking to the sight of her husband seated upon the lip of the bed, as he did was each Valentine's day, a single black rose held between forefinger and thumb, his gaze intent upon the petals.

This was their routine.

It had been so from the earliest days of their marriage, when she had still believed she loved her husband and he had been just as convincing in his manner when he indulged her in that little fantasy.

However, with Glorificus in the house and their son in an asylum, everything had changed and Narcissa could do nothing but stare at him, disconcerted by the return to normal behaviour.

Lucius did not look at her. His expression was unreadable and, without a word, he raised his other hand and slowly - and with great deliberation - started to pluck each petal from the rose, letting them flutter to the floor.

Sitting up slowly, the sheets sinking to puddle around her hips, Narcissa reached out to touch him, trying to conceal the wariness she was feeling and cursing any paranoid precognition she might be assailed with.

Still, his fingers plucked.

Petals dropped like soundless shadows from his pale fingertips.

"Did you think it would go unnoticed?" he asked after an eternity of silence, as she last petal came away in his fingers, smoothed flat then just as suddenly crushed by his curled fingers.

Narcissa blanched. "What?"

Grey eyes turned to her. "Have you any idea how powerful an enemy you have made when you went against her?" he whispered, his voice low and - Narcissa was startled to realise - shaking. "I have managed to keep you unharmed this far, but you... you seem to thrill in placing your head in the noose."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucius loomed closer to her. "You were seen," he hissed, his eyes flaring with more than simply anger. "You were witnessed in the study, rifling through the paperwork and she knows about it."

What little colour was left in Narcissa's face bleached away. "I..."

Her husband shook his head, a tight, jerking motion. "How many times did I warn you to leave her be, to let her just get on with what she was doing?" he whispered, his face mere millimetres from hers. "I put us into this position for our benefit and if you had done as I asked, we might have gotten out alive."

"She hurt Draco," Narcissa's voice shook as she spoke. "He's nothing anymore!"

Lucius growled in frustration. "I know you loved the boy, but he was useless, Narcissa." he uttered softly, coldly. "Better him than us. He was given as much warning as you and, like you, he ignored it!"

"He is your son!"

"But clearly did not inherit any brains from either of us," Lucius retorted. "How many times did I tell you both to leave her be? How many times? And he did not listen! Did you think she was truly stupid an inept?" He shook his head, his hands rising to cup Narcissa's face, his expression serious. "She's dangerous. Very, very dangerous. I did not want either of you harmed when I ventured into arrangements with her, but you placed yourself in her way and only I stand between you and the same condition our fool of a son is now in."

Narcissa stared at him. There was nothing that could be said. There was nothing that could be done. "She knows?"

"Everything you have done in recent days." Lucius said flatly, still clasping her face between his hands and shaking his head. "That you have been sending aid to the school, that you've been hiding information from us."

"I thought she would kill me," Narcissa whispered weakly.

"If she did not need me so," Lucius replied. "She likely would have, but - at present - she still requires my aid."

"At present..."

"Yes. As long as I am useful." Lucius' smile was thin. "And, unfortunately, you have placed yourself well and truly into her bad books." he glanced towards the closed door, then looked back at his wife. "I'm afraid, as proof that she will not be betrayed again, I shall have to confine you to your quarters."

His wife stared at him. "You cannot be serious."

"I'm afraid its that or death," Lucius replied, his fingers sliding lightly, gently, down her cheek. "And since I really am rather partial to your company, I would rather hate to see you dead or witless. House Elves will provide you with food and you ought to be safe here."

Then, he was gone and the door was closing behind him, leaving Narcissa seated in the middle of the bed, alone and trembling, a single, long-stemmed petal-less rose lying on the pale silk of the sheets.