The Eighth Weasley

"These creatures are really starting to be rather annoying."

Picking himself out of the ruins of a stack of desks and chairs, Spike dusted himself down and threw a disbelieving look at McGonagall. "Minnie," he said, snatching up his choice of weapon: a bent breastplate. "You have a knack for stating the obvious."

"I like to think so," Professor McGonagall agreed mildly, hurling a table with a flick of her wand. It collided with one of the demons, who smashed against the wall, before groaning upright again, progress only halted momentarily. "Damn."

Somehow, the demon battleground had moved up into the classrooms and Minerva was chagrined to realise she had already managed to destroy half of Flitwick's room, a good portion of one of the divination classes, as well as wielding the arithmancy blackboard to impressive, yet completely futile effect.

"Minnie! Language!"

"Do you two ever shut up?"

Both witch and vampire threw wry grins at Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, who was carrying a sword in one hand and swinging a mace in the other.

"Only when no one is watching, Watcher Junior," Spike said amiably, bringing his weapon down on the demon's head with a sound like a gong. "Speaking of your past employment... any idea what these things are?"

"Not without checking," Wesley replied, gritting his teeth. "They look similar to too many other breeds..."

"So, no clue?"

Ducking under a hurled desk, the Watcher spun around, pivoting with all the grace of a teenage netball player, and thrust his sword between the eyes of another of the massive creatures, before bringing the mace down on its head.

"Well... usually, you can differentiate breeds by what kills them..."

"In this case, sod all."

Wesley shook his head, jerking a nod towards the door and receiving curt nods in response. Jumping quickly up onto the demon's downed head to allow both vampire and witch to clamber passed him and into the hall, he followed, before diving after them and pulling the door shut behind him.

With a flash of the Professor's wand, the door was locked. "That should hold them temporarily," she said, then looked at Wesley. "Now, what were you saying in there? About modes of killing them?"

"We know what doesn't kill them," Wesley replied, rubbing sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Stabbing them, using Holy water, burning them, decapitating them, hitting them, jinxing them, using holy artefacts on them... none of those things work..."

"That helps," Spike mumbled, sagging against the wall, blood oozing through his torn shirt. "You know what'd be nice? If this old place held onto them for a while for us and kept 'em in one place... how about it, eh, Hogwarts? You keep a hold of them, until we can get rid?" He patted the wall vaguely. "There's a good castle."

To his bewilderment, Minerva's mouth dropped open and Wesley's eyes widened, both of them staring at the doorway just to his right. Tilting his head slightly, he frowned, then looked back at them.

"Okay, I know I got a bump on the head in there," he noted. "But as I recall, there was a door there just a minute ago..."

"There was."

"And now... there isn't."

"You asked and the castle obliged," Minerva murmured, impressed. Still, she had to add with a faint grin, "My, my, Billy... you really have upped your targets... flirting with a castle and getting results..."

Pushing off from the wall, as if burned, Spike glared at her. "Sod off," he muttered, a flattering shade of pink warming his features. He started off down the hall, turning his back on her. "C'mon, you daft cow! We'd better go and help out the others."

Leaning close to the wall, McGonagall patted the stone. "I'll make sure he comes back later," she murmured in a stage-whisper, then rushed after the snarling vampire, chuckling to herself, with Wesley in tow.

8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8

A beam of light splintered one of the candelabra hanging in the corridor, the huge circle of iron dropping down, crushing the knot of demons beneath. A torrent of water rushed along the floor sweeping them back down the way they had come.

Out of the shadows, two figures leapt onto the struggling, water-logged demons, savage hands cracking thick necks with insolent ease, before the two sodden figures strode towards the wizards defending the corridor.

Professor Vector gasped at the sight of them, her wand leaping up, but Dumbledore pushed it down. "Remus," he nodded in acknowledgement. "Angel. Welcome back."

"Sorry for the delay, Sir," Remus said. His face was more feral than usual, fangs bared and eyes yellowed. He shook his head, like a dog would shake off water, features returning to their normal appearance as he did so, then smiled ruefully. "We certainly pick out moments."

"Nothing says welcome like violence and bloodshed," the vampire added, then glanced back down the corridor, where the briefly immobilised demons were starting to rise again. "I don't think those things are dead yet. I wish they'd take a hint."

"Your young friend, Charles, seemed to believe they were immune to strong magics when they breached the school and thus far, they seem impervious to violence as well, which is proving something of a difficulty."

"Is this as far as they've got?" Lupin asked softly, pale eyes fixed on the still-twitching demons lodged under the candelabra.

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "We've held them back in this area as long as we can," he said, nodding down the corridor which lead to two common rooms. "I believe Filius and Pomona are taking care of Gryffindor tower and the Hufflepuffs."

"Buffy was heading out of the school when I saw her," Angel added. "She had Dawn and was trying to get her out of the way."

"Miss Summers is safe?" Dumbledore looked relieved. "We heard the Goddess had breached the defences along with the demons, though we can't quite understand how she managed it."

"They were both in once piece, last time I saw them," Angel said with a nod. "And everyone else scattered to take care of what they could, but if magic and violence can't kill these things, we're screwed."

"You have never seen demons like these?"

Angel was staring at them, brow creased. "That's the problem," he replied. "I've seen hundreds of the things, all like this, but every one of them can be killed a different way. Best you can do is keep them away from you for as long as possible until you find the way."

Dumbledore nodded, a small witch beside him adding a slick of oil to the floor in front of them to prevent the demons returning and attacking again. "But aside from this difficulty... what of Miss Granger and Miss Weasley and their guests?"

"All upright and indignant," Lupin said with a half-smile. "If you really want to bring out the fighting spirit of this merry band, then you ruin their day-off. They really take it badly."

"They've always been the same," Angel reached up and tore a sharp torch bracket off the wall, the metal bent outwards at the top. "Even Buffy's mom used to fight when she was needed."

"I'm amazed I have lasted this long, then," Dumbledore noted, as they started to move, intending - if possible - to drive the invaders back. "After all, I instigated her enmity with Severus and quite likely driven her to madness more than once."

"I don't know who I feel more sorry for," Remus lobbed a chair at a rising demon, looking more than a little surprised at the strength he was channelling.

"Forgetting them for a moment, you seem very much better," Dumbledore said, brows rising quizzically.

Remus smiled faintly. "You could say..."

Abruptly, he blinked, a hand rising to press to the side of his head. His eyes flicked to Dumbledore, who was touching his forehead, then onto Angel who was staring at nothing, as if listening to a sound far in the distance.

"Do you hear...?"

"Willow," Angel said weakly, grimacing. "I'm going to have to ask her not to do that again, ever."

"Pansy," Remus chuckled, then nodded to Dumbledore. "Can we?"

Dumbledore's smile turned feral and for a moment, he looked more terrifying than werewolf or vampire. "If Miss Rosenberg has a way to get these creatures out of the school, then I think we should do what she asks."

8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Striding onwards, Amy beside him, Percy expression was dark. "I most certainly am," he said, the softness of his tone more frightening than the loudest shout of anger. "I am also very put out."

"That they left us behind?"

"No!" Percy exclaimed indignantly, scrubbing blood from his face with one fist, "that those bloody bastards thought they could ruin our day out and do anything to hurt my sister."

In spite of herself, Amy couldn't help smiling. "You're just like Willow, Percy," she said, reaching out to grasp his hand. "She would do anything to keep her friends safe as well."

Percy's expression softened for a moment. "You were remarkable in town," he said, his eyes lingering on Amy's face. "I've never seen magic done as you do it before."

"I-I know I'm not meant to use it..." Amy stammered. "Will this have to go on my report?"

"Stuff the report," Coming to a halt several yards from the gate of the school, Percy pulled her closer to him, his expression earnest. "I don't want you to lose that ability. I saw how you and Willow saved Hermione and I. Even if it means wandless magic, I will help you any way I can, so you can be who you are. You don't need to change. You're a good witch. I don't see why we should stop you being good your way."

Amy blushed. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I'm only being honest," Percy said virtuously, though there was a pinkish hue edging his ears. "Come on. We'd better get to the school and see if there's anything we can do to help."

"Uh..."

Following his girlfriend's line of sight, Percy grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the shadows, hidden by the statues of the winged boars, his wand finding its way into his hand.

What they had seen approached the gates moments later, reaching up and tearing them off their hinges, magic crackling in the air as the huge, twisted wreckage of wrought metal was sent careening across the ground like a tumbleweed.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." Amy whispered, pressing against Percy's back, eyes wide with terror.

Pressing his fingertip to his lips, he dropped his hand to cover hers, squeezing.

Stalking back and forth by the ruins of the gate, like a great, feral cat, Glory looked like she had been beaten and burnt, only recognisable by the furious voice, yelling abuse at the night sky.

"You know I couldn't come in," a voice replied from above and Amy whimpered, her fingers digging into Percy's ribs, as a broomstick swam into view, mounted by Lucius Malfoy. "I'm too well-recognised."

"You could have told me about all those itty bitty magic toys that the bitch had to play with!" Glory snarled. "She stuck a magic sword in me and made me bleed! Me!"

"I'm sure it was an entirely undeserved assault," Malfoy replied smoothly. "But I do trust that this little trinket will make you feel better." With a flourish, he whipped an invisibility cloak out of thin air.

"Omigod!" Amy's gasp was scalding against Percy's skin. "Dawn!" The Slayer's sister was bound tightly in cords, hovering inches above the ground, her eyes glazed and blank.

Fury crossed Percy's face. "Stay here," he hissed, then he stepped out of the bushes, all his anger behind him as he snarled, "Avada kedavra!"

The blast of green light crashed into Glory, knocking the Goddess tumbling onto the grass, leaving a trail of blood and soot. Percy's wand moving of its own accord, a savage curse hurled at Malfoy, who dodged, his own wand in his hand.

"Well, well... young Weasley."

Taking a hit to the shoulder, his arm going limp, Percy staggered, switching wand hands. "Let her go."

"Go where, Weasley?" Malfoy laughed then swung aside as light sizzled passed his face, the jinx leaving a rash of welts across his skin. "In case you hadn't noticed, if I release her, I have some friends waiting to take her back again." He jerked his head upwards, to a laughing group of wizards on brooms. "I don't think they would be pleased to let our key walk away."

"Or this little rat," Glory's voice came harshly from the ground, as she rose and started towards the red-haired wizard.

Percy, in desperation, fired charm after charm at her, but none had the impact that even the unused killing curse had. Malfoy's allies alighted, surrounding him, as the Goddess stalked closer.

"Enough games, little boy." Her hands shot out and there was a sickening crackle, as both arm and wand were cracked. Percy's face went white and he stumbled back a pace, hoping Amy would have the common sense to stay hidden. "I'm bored and you don't interest me." Those savage hands pressed on both sides of his head. "But I'm hungry."

"NO!" The scream was matched only by the impact of the unseen spell, like an invisible wall of pressure, knocking everyone in the clearing off their feet. "Percy!"

Struggling to his feet, blood trickling from his ears, Percy turned. Malfoy - on his feet, despite blood running from nose and ears - had staggered and grabbed Amy, her arms pinned and his wand pressing into her throat.

The third Weasley son's mind went white. All the pain in his head, his arm and the rest of his body went numb. He was walking, long, strong strides, while his mind felt like it was hovering on a cloud somewhere else.

When his uninjured fist connected with Malfoy's face, the bliss was the purest he had felt in recent memory and he pulled Amy free, kicking the wizard and hurling him to the ground.

But whatever haze of rage he was carried by was torn away as Malfoy tumbled down from the edge of the path into a hollow and uttered an utterly unearthly scream of pain, his face rising from the thorny shrubs, blood streaming from his eyes.

"Quick," Percy caught Amy's wrist and started pulling her back towards the gates, to the spot where Dawn had been hovering, but it was empty, only a couple of unconscious bodies remaining.

"There!" Amy pointed upwards. "They've got her!"

Percy whirled around to Malfoy, who was still moaning and clutching at his face, unaware that he had been abandoned. "Well," he said, an ugly smile on his face. "We have someone, at least..."

8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8

"Down!"

A hand on Hermione's head forced her to the ground, the scratch of claws against her skin making her wince, as she cast another charm to tear one of the huge school banner down, collapsing the heavy material over another demon.

Behind her, she heard rather than saw the impact of the high table, which had been pin-wheeling towards her, before Oz had leapt over from a dozen paces away. The impact caught his shoulder, flipping him over, but he was on his feet in a heartbeat.

"You good?"

Nodding, Hermione glanced at him. "You?"

Fangs glimmered by the flickering candles above them. "Told Will I'd find you," he said, his voice more of a growl than she remembered. "Says we should try to get them all in one place."

"She's very bright," Hermione felt his arm around her waist, pulling her upright, her legs wobbling more than she cared to admit. He was half-dragging her, half-carrying her backwards. "We ought to listen to her."

"Thought you'd say that," the werewolf glanced down at her.

"Daniel..."

"Oz," he said firmly.

"Yes, I mean Oz..."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it right now," he said simply, a sharp hand gesture motioning Giles back towards the open doors as well. "When we escape, you can talk, right?"

"All right," Hermione winced, her right leg buckling under her. Apparently, it was more than just wobbling legs this time. Clutching at Oz, she felt a second arm join his, saw Giles' face swim into view, glasses askew. "Giles... where are we going?"

Green eyes met hers. "Oh don't tell me you're the only one who didn't hear..."

"Hear what?"

Oz and Giles exchanged glances. "Willow put out a call," Oz explained. "Told us to get as many of them as we can in the entrance hall."

"Well, I haven't seen her since we got separated on the second floor..."

"No, Hermione," Giles glanced behind them into the Great Hall, where the tangled demons were struggling free of their fabric bindings. "A Mental call. Her power is rather intense at the moment and she's left us all with marvellous migraines."

Allowing them to shuttle her along, Hermione grimaced. "She must have been shielding me... needs to be focused," she mumbled through clenched teeth. "I need to be beside her."

"That's what we figured," Oz noted, hurrying them both through the waiting room that lead into the vast hall. In silence, they hurried on, Hermione all but carried between the two men.

As expected, the demons gave chase, unwilling to let their targets escape from them, the flight down the stairs, over headless and limbless demons impeded by jerking and twitching torsos.

"This way!"

A shout drew their attention, a coiling spiral staircase unfolding before them, as if unravelled from the stones itself. Staggering up, the trio felt the stairs closing behind them, collapsing on a balcony above the main landing they had just raced down from.

It was already well-occupied by a dozen people, including the two vampires, McGonagall and Dumbledore himself. At the front, hands pressed to the stone rail, Willow was standing, shaking, her hair whirling in a flaming nimbus around her head.

"Hermione..." she croaked.

Uncaring of the lancing pain in her ankle, the brown-haired witch scrambled upright and moved to Willow's back, placing her hands on her lover's shoulders, daring to peek over the railing into the lobby.

"What are you..."

"Waiting," Willow's voice was quaking, her face white.

The demons that had been chasing Hermione, Giles and Oz came to a halt in the huge square chamber, which Hermione suddenly noticed did not have a single door, an impossibility as it was the main entrance hall of the whole school.

"Where did the door go?" Hermione started to ask, as Dumbledore moved alongside her, gazing down at the cavernous chamber. Her question, however, became moot as the staircase that was the only exit to other parts of the school started to bend and shift, like metal under extraordinary heat.

Under her hands, Willow was practically vibrating and she was gasping, her hands - braced on the stone - emitting an odd glow, which seemed to radiate up to encompass her whole body.

"Willow!"

"Don't let go," Willow gasped, pressing her body back against Hermione's. "Don't let..." With an echoing crack, the stairs opposite them broke away from the upper landing, utterly cutting off the demons from the rest of the school.

"Good God..." Giles whispered. "How is she...?"

"The school," Dumbledore's voice was soft, his gaze fixed now on the witch beside him. "It does not want these invaders here any more than she is. They're working together, witch and building."

"But what now?" Angel asked, peering down at the dozens of demons congregated beneath the balcony they now hung on. "We've tried killing them. There's no way it can be done."

"Didn't try hard enough..."

Angel looked like he was about to answer back when Spike's hand leapt up and grabbed his arm, the blond vampire's eyes wide, gold flaring in the iris. "D'you smell that?"

"Buffy..." the two vampires exchanged looks, then turned on Willow. "Willow, we need out of here, now!"

"No can do," Willow was shaking violently. "You go out, they go out."

"Slayer needs a hand, Red."

"Find another way, would you?" Hermione snapped. "Can't you see she can't stop this now?"

Turning on McGonagall, Spike gave her a hopeful grin. "Can you get us out, Minnie?" The witch sighed, then nodded. With a flick of her wand, both vampires rose into the air and were swept into the balcony below. "Thanks, ducks!"

"Just get a move on," McGonagall shouted after them. "There are windows in the waiting hall. I'm sure you'll be forgiven for breaking them." The two vampires sped away and Minerva turned her attention back to the red-haired witch. "I do hope they weren't needed for part of her plan."

"Xander's coming..." Willow's breathless voice trickled passed parted lips. The glow that had surrounded her now seemed to be emanating from within her, dazzling white light, as she drew on the power of the school. "He knows... and Charles..."

"The two Muggles?" McGonagall's brow rose. "Well, that shouldn't surprise me after the way things have been going."

"Charles was here," Giles explained in a hushed voice. "He said Xander was getting what they needed and would need all the demons in one place, then he rushed off to find something."

"And now, he's back!" a voice called from the balcony below them. Gunn was standing there, leaning out to look up at them, two large sacks lying at his feet. "Yo, Red, how you holding up?"

"I'm shiny," the witch replied faintly. "You get everything?"

"You know it, Red," Gunn threw a salute up at her. "Want me to start the wash-down?" Willow's chin dipped tightly and the man reached into a sack at his feet, pulling out bottles and canisters.

Immediately, he starting sloshing opaque liquid over the demons, which growled and clawed futilely at the stone round them. Whatever the liquid was, it seemed to be having no effect.

"Holy water?"

"Nuh-uh..." Willow's pale face broke into a slow grin. "We're gonna... have a barbeque..."

"But burning doesn't work!" McGonagall protested.

Willow looked on the verge of collapse, Hermione's arms keeping her upright, but turned pale, shining eyes to the teacher. "Not charmed flame," she whispered. "It's gotta be real flames. Pure flames. We've got the real thing."

"Will!"

The shout from below drew her brilliant gaze and she smiled. "Xander..."

"Fawkes!" Dumbledore gasped in sudden understanding at the sight of the phoenix perched on Xander's shoulder, the teen's hand gently stroking the golden plumage.

"Ready?" The question was thrown from Xander to Gunn.

"When you are, Xan," Gunn replied, adding a last canister of fluid.

"Will?"

"Go," the witch breathed. "Shield is up."

Xander grinned, raising an arm for Fawkes to climb onto, then held him over the pit of demons. "Fire in the hole!" he yelled, dropping behind the balustrade as Fawkes took to the air and plunged into a dive.

Halfway through the dive, the Phoenix erupted into searing, blinding white flames, smashing into the middle of the demon-trap below with the force of a bomb, the concussion blowing all the watchers off their feet.

A column of flame billowed upwards, constrained within some kind of invisible, barrier, windows on the far side of the hall bursting out as smoke and fire coiled free, the screams of the dying demons horrific to hear.

Massed together on the floor, they writhed and struggled, fighting one another and the flames as they were utterly consumed, burning with white heat, shrinking to nothing but glowing embers in a matter of heartbeats.

"Poopy..." Willow whispered. "Didn't get to use my marshmallows."

Then, she promptly collapsed back into Hermione's arms.

8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8

"Quick! Quick, place her here!"

The arms of Xander Harris and Charles Gunn carefully deposited the unconscious body of the brunette Slayer on the vacant bed. She didn't look like she was breathing and her face was whiter than the pillow she lay on.

"She was fighting Glory," Gunn elaborated quickly. "Told me to get... hey, is old Creepy down here?" Off the Matron's look, Gunn made a gesture, "Y'know. Potions guy. Did the kid get him here okay?"

"Far end of the ward," Pomfrey said briskly, shooing Xander from the side of the bed and quickly checking Faith over. "Good heavens..." Potions were quickly produced from recesses of her apron and forced down the Slayer's throat.

"She gonna be okay?"

"Mister Gunn," Pomfrey looked up, her expression quietly deadly. "I will do the best that I can, but if you are uninjured and wish to remain so, I would advise you not to distract me."

With a curt nod, Gunn moved away from the bed and wove his way up towards the bed, where the Potions professor was lying. He was unsurprised to see the kid still sitting there, watching for any sign of movement.

"Kid, you okay?"

The boy looked up, whey-faced. "So many people are hurt," he whispered.

"But we're still standing," Xander joined the older man, then glanced down at Snape. "I thought he might be conscious by now..." he mumbled, chagrined.

"You did what you had to," Gunn said, clasping Xander's shoulder. "You stay put, buddy. Make sure you keep up on everyone. I'm gonna go find Cordy and see if the old guy needs more help with the kids."

"Tell her I'll be here, when she's ready." Moving from Snape's bed, Xander wove his way up the ward as Gunn disappeared out of the chamber.

His feet carried him passed Giles, who was swearing profusely as binding linens were fixed into place on his gashed chest, and two rather stunned-looking Hufflepuffs, who were recovering from their herbology lesson.

The third bed from the door was occupied by Willow, who was as motionless as she had been when they had carried her down from her self-created balcony. The only sign that anything was affecting her were the flickers of white light still pulsing beneath her skin and the white sheen that had seeped down her once-red hair.

Beside the bed, Hermione was sitting, clutching her girlfriend's hand between her own, brown eyes locked onto Willow's face, as if just staring at her might bring her around and back to normal.

"Hey," he murmured, approaching her. "You all right?"

Hermione sniffed softly, but didn't look up. "I just want this all to have been a bad dream," she mumbled.

Reaching down, Xander rubbed her shoulders gently. "But if that happened, you wouldn't have seen Willow getting down with her bad-ass shiny witchy self," he said, relieved when Hermione hiccoughed, then giggled weakly.

"She really was amazing, wasn't she?"

"Is amazing, little witch," Xander corrected. "She's still here. She's just having a nap. Saving everyone's collective asses takes a lot out of you."

"Of course..." Hermione agreed, then glanced along the ward. "What happened to Severus?"

Xander's expression tightened. "Glory. She knows what Dawn is now."

Brown eyes leapt up to his. "What about Buffy and Dawn?"

"Angel and Spike broke out to go and help her," Xander replied. "But they..."

What he was about to say was answered by the three figures entering the ward. The two in front had a limp body suspended between them, thick, dark hair trailing over Lupin's hands as he walked backwards towards one of the vacant beds.

"Sirius?" Hermione started to rise. "What happened?"

Gently depositing his friend on the sheets, Angel at Sirius' feet, Lupin turned to look at her. "From what we can make out," he said, his voice empty. "He fell off Buckbeak from a long way up. Hagrid's looking after Buckbeak."

"Buffy and Dawn...?"

Angel, his expression unreadable, nodded towards the door, where Spike was slowly picking his way in. He was carrying a small figure, his vampiric features bared, his eyes on the face of his burden.

It was Buffy and she was unconscious, blood seeping from the back of her head and staining her blonde hair.

"Oh God..." Xander groaned.

"The bitch hit her from behind," Spike grit out between clenched teeth. He looked around the busy ward and every full bed, then slowly sank to sit, gently cradling the Slayer in his arms. "Tried to brain her with a pillar."

"She's alive, right?"

"She's the sodding Slayer, you pillock!" Spike snapped. "Of course she's alive. If I couldn't kill her, what makes you think some namby-pamby Goddess could manage it?" He peered around the ward. "Oy, Pomfrey! Here! Now!"

The Matron swung around from Faith's bedside, anger in her eyes fading as she rushed over.

Sinking back into her seat, Hermione reached up to clutch Xander's hand. "She'll be all right," she said, trying hopelessly to sound certain.

"Buffy always is," Xander said blankly. "I don't get it... it was a good day and now, Willow's all glowy, Cordy's bleeding again, Buffy and Faith are hurt and the school is all smashed up. It's just not right."

"I know."

"I really, really want to hit something."

"Is there any room in here for us?" Percy's voice said from the doorway. He was flanking a whimpering figure, who was trapped between him and Amy, all three of them bloodied and beaten-looking.

Hermione's mouth fell open. "Is that...?"

"Lucius Malfoy," Percy said with a cold smile.

Xander's smile was just as icy. "Looks like I get my wish."