The Resurrection of Sirius

10

William the Bloody

"Relax, Hermione. You're stressing out way too much."

"Oh, Ron, I can't help it! I'm too nervous."

"Hermione, you never got nervous at midterms before!"

"Let her simmer for a while, Harry. She's never been this nervous before, she's not used to it. She needs to adjust. Let's just sit her in a corner and give her a nice tight, white coat --"

"Ron, you are not funny," Hermione cut it. In truth, Ron was being funny, but she was too nervous to notice. Midterms started tomorrow and she'd barely studied.

"Come on Harry, let's go..." Ron and Harry got up and left Hermione alone, huddled up on an armchair.

***

Harry and Ron ran up to the boys' dormitories. "So, Ron... There's something I need to talk to you about," Harry said, sitting on the windowsill. Ron plopped down on his stomach on Neville's bed (which was right by the window) to face Harry.

"What's up?"

"Well... Erm... You remember the day when I woke up? From the coma?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Well I could hear you guys talking for a bit, heard Hermione tell you to shut up, and you told her to make you --"

Ron's eyes widened.

"-- And then I opened my eyes, and you were kissing --"

Ron's eyes opened even wider, and his ears turned pink. "Well, er, I, er," he mumbled, turning away from Harry.

"Was that the first time?" Ron's ears turned so red they almost blended in with his hair, as they so often did.

"Er... No."

Harry thrust his fist into the air. "Yes!" Ron raised an eyebrow.

"I -- I mean... Well... It's just that, the tension between you two, it's been so obvious --"

"Tension? Tension? You think we had tension?"

"Yeah. It was pretty obvious, actually. 'Specially after third year."

"Yeah, well... It's nothing. Whoop-de-do, we kissed twice. Big whoop." Ron twirled his finger in the air in fake celebration.

"Oh come on, Ron, you can't think you never saw that coming?"

"Well... Yeah, okay, so maybe I've wanted us to kiss sometimes, for a while now. But so? Don't mean anything."

"Whatever. Look, we better go and get Hermione, I think she might explode if we don't calm her down." Harry jumped off the windowsill and walked across the room. Ron followed.

They found Hermione studying, her quill scratching away. But there was no hand attached to it.

"Uh, Hermione, would you mind explaining...?"

Hermione shot forward and put her hand on the quill, but it was too late.

"Come on Hermione, spit it out," Ron said, sitting on the table in front of her.

"Oh fine. You know how I've been going to the library twice a week to do my homework because 'it's too loud in here'?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I haven't been in the library. I've been at Willow's office. Learning Wicca, Ronald!" she added at the look of disgust on his face.

"And what the bloody hell is Wicca?"

"It's the form of magic that Willow does. You use your hands and stuff. Oh, and sometimes she tells me stuff about when she was in California."

Ron looked appalled. "She's been telling you anecdotes?"

"Oh please Ron, don't be such a wart. For your information, she's also been teaching me about the spell we're going to use to get Sirius back!"

Harry's jaw dropped. "You get to help her with that?"

"Yeah. Willow thinks I'm powerful enough."

"What about me, I'm powerful!" Ron said hopefully.

"Yeah right, Ron. If you're so powerful, open that window." Ron got up to open it. "Without touching it." He pulled out his wand. "And no wands."

"Well how in the name of Merlin am I s'posed to do that?"

"Like this, you idiot." Hermione put her hand a few inches in front of her and raised it a bit. The window opened, just as it had so many times in Willow's office.

"Shut that window!" someone called. Hermione shut it by moving her hand down.

"You... How did you...?"

Hermione shrugged. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of studying to do." And with that, Hermione got up, caused everything to float into her bag at once, and left.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"How did you guys do in Potions?" Hermione asked at lunch, two days later. It was Tuesday, and the Trio had taken their midterms together on Monday, but today they had their separate ones.

Ron shrugged. "Probably pretty bad."

"What're you talking about, you studied for three hours straight for that exam!" This was a long time of studying for Ron, especially for one class alone.

Again, Ron shrugged. "Forgot most of it by the time I got my quill out."

Hermione shook her head. Ron was so incredibly stupid. That's why she liked him so much. "Well, Muggle Studies was pretty easy. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be though. There was one part where I didn't study for it. I lost one page of my notes. But otherwise, piece of cake. What about you, Harry?"

"Eh, fine I guess. There was all this stuff about stuff from when I missed --"

"You mean you never made that up?"

"No. But anyway, I guess I did okay. Think I scraped an A at least."

"Well that's good. My guess is Ron got a D--"

"T," Ron corrected. Hermione laughed.

"See now, what's up with that? The old Hermione would never have laughed at that."

Hermione shrugged. "Changes Ronald, changes." Hermione sighed as she ate her lunch. Suddenly, she checked her watch. "Oh my gosh! I'm going to be late for my Astronomy exam!"

"Astronomy? Shouldn't that be at night, like after dinner?" Harry checked his watch, just to make sure time hadn't suddenly skipped ahead.

"No, we're not doing anything like that. I've got to go!" Hermione wiped her mouth on her napkin and left.

"Well, we better get going too, Ron. DADA starts in a few minutes."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Finally. Midterms... Are... Over." Ron collapsed onto the nearest chair and lay there for a moment, then sat up and looked at Harry.

"You're coming to the Burrow, right?"

"Course," Harry said, rubbing his eyes.

"And you, Herm?"

"Yeah."

"Excellent. Hey, we got a Hogsmede visit today, or is it tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Harry said, still rubbing his eyes.

The trio sat in silence for a moment. Ron was bored. He wanted to do something. He wanted to make a snow family out in the snow. He felt like a little kid. Harry was still rubbing his eyes.

"Harry, are you trying to rub your eyes out or something?"

"No."

"Ron, you want to go for a walk?" Hermione broke the silence. "Um... No."

Hermione shrugged. "Fine. Suit yourself. I'll just go and see if Willow can teach me anything --"

"Ooh, can I come?" Ron sat up quickly.

"Fine, but don't expect to do anything. You want to come, Harry?" Hermione turned to Harry.

"Not really. I'd rather... I need to think."

***

"Hermione. And, Ron," Willow added.

"Hi Willow. I was just wondering -- you have any free time? Only I wanted some more training, and Ron wanted to come along--"

"Sure!" Willow stood aside to let them in. "Have a seat on the bed over there."

Ron sat cross-legged on the bed, looking anxiously at Willow.

"Actually Hermione, I'm really glad you're here. I need some help in learning about that veil in the Department of Mysteries. Can you --"

"Yes! Sure!" Hermione bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. "Well, I like research," she said, blushing.

"Perfectly fine. I used to be just like that."

"Really?" Ron brightened.

"Ron --" Hermione didn't want to waste time before getting started on research.

"Right. I mean, er, let's not waste time in getting down to the library." Ron shoved his fist in the air in mock excitement.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"So, what'd Willow teach you?"

"We went to the wonderful, enjoyable library and tried to learn about the veil-thingy," Ron said cheerfully.

"Um... Well, basically, yeah. Ron wasn't much help, but Willow and I tried to find out about the veil."

"Find anything?"

"They don't call it the 'Department of Mysteries' for nothing," Ron said glumly.

Harry's heart sank a bit. Would Willow be able to do a spell without knowing anything about the veil?

Hermione seemed to read his thoughts. "I'm sure Willow can do something without knowing, though," she said.

"Yeah, maybe... Well, let's go down to dinner, shall we?"

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Ron woke up and looked at his watch. It was 9:30.

"Hey, c'mon, wake up!" He began beating up Harry's head with his pillow.

"Ow -- hey -- stop --"

"Well get up then! Hogsmede trip! And then tomorrow is the first day of the Holidays!"

Harry rolled over and fell out of his bed. He got up slowly, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Let's get dressed and go down to breakfast. Knowing her, Hermione's probably down there already," Ron said, opening up his trunk and digging out a fresh set of robes.

"Yeah, okay..."

***

Ron and Harry found Hermione half way through her breakfast.

"Okay, so maybe you've changed a bit, but you still wake up at the crack of dawn," Ron said, grabbing the hash browns.

"I've only been up for half an hour," Hermione said defensively.

"Again, up at the crack of dawn."

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, Ron, you missed the mail. You got a letter from your mum..." She handed Ron a small envelope.

Ronald --

Just letting you know that we're going to visit your brother over the Holidays. You don't have to come along if you don't want to. Tell Harry and Hermione we're sorry, but we can't have them come along, too.

Love,

Mum and Dad

"Well? What'd she say?"

"Mum and dad are going to Romania over Christmas. So you guys can't come to the Burrow."

"Oh. Well, that's okay. Right?" Hermione glanced over at Harry.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"I've always said that you two were pigs, but you're eating slowly today," Hermione said, finishing up her breakfast. She poured a mug of tea while she was waiting for Harry and Ron to finish eating.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. They shrugged, grinned, and stuffed their faces, chewing rapidly. Hermione frowned at them.

"I sit corrected," she muttered to herself.

"Well, I'm done," Ron said as he stood up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Me too." Harry stood up and threw his napkin on his plate.

"Let's go then." Hermione took one last gulp of her tea and got up. The boys followed her to the Entrance Hall.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The trio walked from shop to shop, looking around. Ron made them spend considerable amounts of time in Honeydukes and Zonko's.

"I could go for a Butterbeer," Ron said, heading across from Honeydukes to The Three Broomsticks. "You all want any?" Harry and Hermione muttered their agreements and followed Ron in.

"Here, give me your money and find us a table. I'll get the drinks." Harry and Hermione handed Ron two Sickles each and walked to a table in the corner.

"Here." Ron handed everyone their drinks. They sat in silence for a while, sipping their Butterbeers.

Hermione was staring at a man in a table across from them. He looked oddly familiar, yet so unfamiliar. He looked up from his drink and noticed her staring at him.

He cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. Hermione quickly glanced at the floor. Where had she seen him before?

"Aha!"

"What is it, Hermione? Just remembered something from a midterm you couldn't remember before?"

"No, it's just, than man... He looks so familiar." Hermione pointed to the guy.

Harry, who was sitting next to Hermione, shrugged. "Don't recognize him." Ron turned around to look at him, but Hermione stopped him.

"Don't look. He looks vicious."

Ron chuckled. "Vicious? No he doesn't! Would knowing his name help you figure out who he is?" Hermione shrugged, then nodded. Ron turned around fully in his seat and said, "Hey you! What's your name?"

The guy looked at Ron funny, then, as if he figured it couldn't hurt, he said simply, "Spike."

Hermione spat out a big gulp of Butterbeer all over Ron. "Oh, I'm sorry Ron!"

"No, it's okay... I was just thinking, 'Boy, wish Hermione would spit out her Butterbeer all over me'."

"Here --" Hermione waved her hand in front of Ron, and the Butterbeer vanished.

"Okay, this Whacka --"

"Wicca --" Hermione corrected him.

"-- This Wicca thing is scary."

Hermione looked at Spike. He sighed, then got up and walked over to their table.

"There something I can help you with?"

Hermione shook her head rapidly. "No. Sorry to bother you." There was something wrong here. Hadn't Willow said that Spike was dead?

Spike shrugged. "Then I suggest you stop starin' at me, because you never know what'll happen if ya' don't."

Ron stood up. "Now look here, bub --" he poked Spike in the chest -- "You threaten her again, you'll be sorry you ever did, alright?"

"Ron --" Hermione pulled on Ron's sleeve. Spike chuckled and stalked off.

"What? I was sticking up for you!"

"Forget it." Hermione didn't feel like explaining, especially considering the fact that Spike was supposed to be dead.

And now, Hermione sat in silence, drinking her Butterbeer and wondering why -- and how -- Spike was back. She only vaguely heard what Ron and Harry were talking about.

"That guy looked weird."

"How so?"

"I dunno... Just, didn't look right to me..." Ron trailed off thoughtfully, running his fingers through his hair.

Harry shrugged. "Looked all right to me. Bit aggressive maybe, but he looked okay."

Hermione sighed.

"What's up?" Ron said to the inside of his cup, having been about to take a swig of Butterbeer.

"Nothing... Just thinking."

"About what?"

"That guy... Spike."

"Oh come on, Hermione. I mean, he was good-looking, but --"

"That is not what I meant, Ronald. I didn't feel like explaining this, but..." And Hermione began re-telling the stories Willow had told her, about how Spike was a vampire and how he'd died.

"So that's why you were staring at him," Harry said.

"Yes. And that's why I was thinking about him just now. There's something weird about it. He died. He shouldn't be here." Hermione looked at Harry and Ron. When nothing dawned on them, she continued: "Don't you see? If he died, then he must've been behind that Veil. He must know something about it."

"Hermione, he was in America."

"So? It's possible."

"And it's also possible that there's a Ministry of Magic in America, and that it has a Department of Mysteries." Harry looked at Hermione as if she were being stupid.

"Which makes no difference, Harry. Who's to say that there's no Veil exactly like that in America? And who's to say that Spike didn't go there? We've got to find him, and talk to him. He could be very capable of helping us in this." Hermione got up and ran upstairs, where there were a few rooms. She figured that Spike being a vampire, he couldn't have gone outside. Not in the day.

There were only four or five rooms. Two of them had the doors hanging open, so Hermione skipped those. She knocked on the door of Number Three.

"Yeah, if you think I'll care come in," came a voice. Hermione was sure it was Spike. She took a deep breath and walked in.

"What do you want?" Spike snapped. The shades were closed and Spike was sitting on a chair, smoking, his feet on the bed.

"Listen, I don't know you at all, but I do know a friend of yours." Spike raised his eyebrows. "Well, maybe she's not your friend... Willow Rosenberg?"

"Yeah, I know her. Why? She decide to straighten out?"

Hermione pretended not to hear that remark. "Listen, we need your help."

"That one I've never heard before," Spike chuckled. "You got any cash?"

"Um, well, no, but --"

"Then I won't do it."

"Listen, you may be a lot older than me, but --"

"Probably a lot older than you think."

"I know I know, you're a vampire and you were born in the eighteen fifties. Look, Willow and I need your help, but if you won't help us, then -- well, I don't know what then, but I'm sure you'll help because from what I've heard of you, you may not like it but you help out anyway."

Spike sighed impatiently. "Listen girly, I don't know why you'd expect me to help you, but I'm only here for a little while. Not really lookin' to save the world again, right?"

"This isn't about the safety of the world. We're trying to bring someone back from the dead, but we're not really sure if they're dead."

"Why don't you ask 'em?" Spike said, bored.

"Oh, I give up," Hermione said impatiently, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

***

Spike stared at the door. What the hell was that girl doing? And how did she know Willow Rosenberg? No matter, the only real question was did Willow know he was alive.

Spike had a quarrel with himself. Help the girl, get her money, eat her, leave town. But his soul would not let him do that. Bloody thing. He was still getting used to it, even a few years later. He could always find out what she was doing, pretend to care, and bail at the last moment. Again, the stupid soul wouldn't allow that.

Deciding what to do, Spike ran to catch up with the prat, his trench coat billowing out behind him.

***

"Hermione, what were you doing?" Ron looked anxious.

"I was asking for Spike's help."

Harry's face brightened. "What'd he say?"

"He said no," Hermione said quickly and sympathetically.

Harry's face fell. "Oh. Well that's okay. There's got to be some way --"

"Hey! Kid!" Hermione turned. It was Spike. "I'll do it."

"Great. Um, I don't think I'm the right one to do the introducing, I don't really know you --"

"Don't matter. I'm Spike."

"Harry Potter."

"Ron Weasley. And that's Hermione Granger."

"Is that your real name, by the way? Spike, I mean?" Harry said, stepping forward.

"No. Real name's William Wordsworth." Ron snorted. "Oh, and Weasley's a totally common name, too," Spike sneered.

Ron tried to jump at Spike, but Harry caught him. "Don't sweat it," he said. "Doesn't like his name being poked fun at," Harry told Spike.

"Sorry." Hermione had a feeling that Spike didn't mean it.

"Okay, well, we'd better get -- oh no, wait... Spike, you can't go outside right now, can you?"

Spike looked out the window. "Looks cloudy enough... Hang on." He ran upstairs and came back a few seconds later, throwing an old brown blanket on his head. "This little bugger'll keep me from catchin' on fire," he added as the trio stared at him, wide-eyed.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Willow called. She was planning a lesson for after the break, books scattered around her desk. She caused them to close and stack with a wave of her hand.

"Hi Willow!"

"Oh hey, Hermione, Ron, Harry --" Willow stopped short. Spike was there, too. "Spike?"

"Hi, Willow."

"I thought you were dead --"

"Have been, for quite some time. Vampire, you know."

"Well yeah, but I -- you -- Sunnydale --"

Spike shrugged. "Came back." At the look on Willow's face, and Hermione's, Spike sighed and added, "I s'pose you want me to fill you in?" Everyone nodded.

"Don't really know how myself. All I can tell you is, I came out of that amulet I was wearing."

"You... Came out of the...?"

"Yeah. Dunno why. We figured, the senior partners of Wolfram and Hart got the package and sent it to Angel and his people. Never did figure out why."

"I see. So... You were just..."

"But," Spike cut in, "I was a ghost. I was non corporeal for a bit."

"So what, one day you just woke up solid?" Ron said. Willow could tell Ron didn't like Spike very much. She didn't blame him.

"No, you ninny. I got a package. Obviously couldn't open it. Someone did it for me, and there was this big old flash of light. Didn't think anything happened. Then I tried to walk through a door and -- well you can guess the rest."

Ron laughed. "Hey, you are one step away mister --"

"Spike." Willow was suddenly angry at Spike. He could be nice, but he had quite a temper. "So... Why are you here, anyway? And -- how did you get here? It's daytime."

Spike held up his tattered old blanket. "And I'm here because this kid --" he pointed to Hermione -- "asked me to help you."

Willow was amazed. He hardly ever listened to Buffy, much less a sixteen-year-old girl he'd never met before.

"So what's this all-important mission I'm helpin' with? And would you mind shuttin' the blinds?"

"Oh! Sorry." Willow waved her hand at the window and the shades closed.

"That's better." Spike stepped all the way into the room, out of the shadow cast by the door. "Now what am I helpin' you with?"

Willow shrugged, and Hermione began.

"Well, Harry's godfather -- do you know anything about a veil?"

"Er -- well I've heard it's what girls wear when they get married."

Hermione half-smiled. "Not that kind of veil. It's..." And Hermione told the whole story about the veil in the Department of Mysteries.

"...And we were wondering if you knew anything about it, since you've -- you know -- died, and all."

***

Spike stood there, distracted. No one had ever talked to him about when he was dead. Not really. He didn't really remember much about it.

"Well, I do remember something... Must be 'cause I got a soul... Yeah, I guess that explains it... After I -- dusted, I sort of remember..." How did he explain it? Words couldn't explain this feeling. At least not when you had to be all manly. Oh well. Let it all out, help the kids and Willow, then leave.

"It was kinda' dream like. You know when you're dreaming, and suddenly the dream shifts? It was sorta' like that. All I remember is talkin' to Buffy, tellin' her to leave, and I dusted. Sunlight hit me. And then... Don't know how I got there, but I was in this big room, with a sunken middle and a big black thing hangin' at the bottom."

"That's it! That's the veil!" the kid with the black hair exclaimed. The girl nudged him.

"There was this feelin', like I didn't wanna go there, but I had to. I knew I had to. I sorta'... Glided down to the bottom, and went through the veil, and... It was a whole new world. Don't even think it was this world..."

"What happened when you came back?"

"Like I said. Angel got the amulet in the mail. I popped out of it and was a bloody ghost. Nothin' else to say about it."

"And, you don't remember anything from when you came out? Other than popping out of the amulet, I mean."

Spike thought a moment. There was something... "I didn't want to leave. But I had to. It was like... Being torn from something. Like when you're wakin' up from a good dream, and you don't wanna, but you gotta. It was like that."

Willow nodded, and the girl spoke up.

"Did you feel dead, at all? While you were in there?"

Spike chuckled. "Dead? Didn't feel anythin'. Like I didn't exist anymore. There was nothin'."

"So... You're saying that you stopped existing after you died until you came back as a ghost?"

"Something like that."

Willow turned to the kids. "Hermione, I'll definitely need your help finding the spell I'll have to use, and actually performing it. Harry, Ron -- I don't know if I'll need your help performing the ritual, but do you think you could help out with ingredients and stuff?" The boys nodded. Willow turned to Spike. "Spike, we might need you for some more information about this veil. How long are you staying around here?"

"Long's I have to. But don't the little ones have school or something?"

"We're on break," the redhead said. "And we're not little," he added menacingly.

"Well, seeing as I'm 'round about 156 and you're all what, sixteen? Little. Now, we'll have to do this during the night --"

"Can't you just use your blanket?"

"Too dangerous. One little gust of wind and poof. Good luck talkin' to a pile of dust. So, unless you all wanna walk over to that pub during the day, you'll have to wait until night to get anythin' out of me."

11

The Holidays

For a few days, Willow and Hermione spent most of daylight in Willow's office, looking up spells. Harry and Ron chose to partake in snowball fights with Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

About one week into break, Fred and George Weasley showed up.

"Fred! George! What are you -- hey, I'm talking here!" A snowball thrown by Seamus had just hit him in the head. Ron ran over to Fred and George. "What're you two doing here?"

Fred laughed. "And miss Christmas with you, little bro? Ha, ha."

Ron smiled sarcastically. "No, really, why're you here?"

"We were going to go home to the Burrow, but since mum and dad are in Romania --"

" -- We thought we'd come here and visit you," Fred finished.

Harry, who was coming back out from going to the bathroom, received a snowball in the face from Fred. Then another hit him in the chest, thrown by George.

"What're you guys here for?"

"We decided to visit you guys," Fred said simply, making a pile of snowballs.

"I see. What team're you on?"

"The Weasleys have challenged us. It's them against you, me, Neville, and Dean," Seamus said, dodging a snowball from Ron.

"Their loss," Harry muttered. He picked up a snowball in each hand and chucked them both at once.

***

Hermione and Willow were hard at work in Willow's office, researching spells. There were books upon books -- she practically had her own library.

"We should start with these two," Willow said, handing Hermione one book and taking the other for herself. "Actually, what we need is a computer."

"Why?"

"The Internet. Looking stuff up when I have such a vague idea is much easier on the Internet, for me."

Hermione shrugged. Her parents had a computer, but they mostly used it for their work stuff. Hermione rarely used it. She preferred books.

"I'm a book person myself," she said.

Half an hour passed without sound, except for the turning of book pages.

"This book's no good," Hermione said.

"Give it here."

"Why? I just looked through it."

"You might've missed something. People do that."

"Willow, remember who you're talking to? I like research, too. I wouldn't have missed anything."

"Oh, right, sorry. Here, take this one then." Willow handed Hermione another book, thicker and longer than the last.

An hour went by... Hermione liked researching, but this was getting tedious.

"What we need is Giles," Willow said glumly.

"Who?"

"Giles. The librarian."

"Oh. Right."

"He was even better at research than I am. Wish I could contact him from here..." Willow sighed. "Oh well. We'll find something, won't we."

***

The boys fought well into the evening. It got dark eventually, so everybody got a lantern and lighted their wands for light so that they could keep fighting. They even moved the snowball fight to right in front on the doors, and opened the doors to the Entrance Hall to let the light flood out.

Around 9:30, Ron looked up and saw a dark figure approaching in the distance. He squinted, trying to make out who it was, and received a snowball in the face for breaking his concentration.

Seeing that Ron was actually trying to look at something, George looked up and followed his gaze.

"Who goes there, mate?" he called. There was no answer, so he bewitched a snowball to go flying at the person. He (or she) reached up and caught it.

Finally, the person came into view.

"Ugh, it's Spike," Ron muttered. By now, everyone had noticed Spike coming and had abandoned their fight.

"What do you want?" Ron called.

"Need a word with Willow," he said. He picked up a handful of snow and threw it up in the air behind him.

"Ooh, are you two friends?" Neville asked.

"No. But I need to talk to her."

"But you know her? Personally?"

"So do we," Harry and Ron chimed.

"Who the heck is Willow?" George asked. Ron threw a snowball at him.

"She's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he said.

"And she's really hot," Dean added.

Spike laughed. "You really think so? Well, too bad gents. She's gay." He walked inside and shut the door, throwing the guys in near darkness.

"Well. That I needed to know," Fred said cheerfully, picking up his wand. "Come on now, let's go inside. I can only feel from my waist up."

***

Nice. Spike had no idea how to find Willow's office. Didn't even know what floor she was on. One way to find her was, of course, to go outside and ask the kids. They'd probably know. But that would be his last resort. Before he could even think of another way, the doors opened and the kids came inside.

Trying to sound as manly as possible, Spike said, "Hey -- where do you find Willow?" The redhead -- one of the redheads, anyway, the one he'd met before -- looked like he wanted to laugh, but the kid with glasses stopped him.

"We'll take you," he said.

Spike nodded once. "Right. And..." he noted the four kids he didn't know. "Who are you?"

They all said their names in turn.

"Fred Weasley."

"George Weasley." Great. Identical twins with the two most common names in history.

"Dean Thomas."

"Seamus Finnigan. And that's Neville Longbottom," Seamus said, pointing to a small kid who looked too nervous to talk.

"Yeah. Well. I'm Spike."

"Cool name," Dean Thomas said.

"You think so? Got it from when I used to kill people with railroad spikes."

"Sweet!" Fred -- George -- whatever -- said. He laughed.

"No really. I'm serious."

"So how old are you, Spike?" Neville Longbottom squeaked.

"A hundred and fifty-six."

"No. Really." This remark came from Twin A.

"Really. Now look, how far is Willow's office, anyway?"

"It's just the next floor up," the black-hired kid said. Harry. His name was Harry. Cool, he remembered.

"Not that I'm counting, but -- she's on the fifth floor up?" They'd been walking for quite a few flights now. Everyone nodded. "Well, there's one way to keep in shape."

***

Harry knocked on the door to Willow's office.

"Personal escorts of one Spike the vampire," he said. Willow opened the door.

"Hi. Um -- how many escorts does he need?"

Harry counted his companions. "Six," he said.

Willow laughed. "Come on in. What do you need, Spike?"

Spike looked at Harry and his companions. "Well, it's more of a personal matter."

"Harry, Ron," Willow glanced at the rest of the guys, "Everyone else -- would you mind leaving? Hermione left a few minutes ago," she added to Harry and Ron.

***

Willow closed the door and turned to Spike. "What is it?"

"I was just wondering -- does Buffy know I'm back?"

Willow shook her head. "No one does besides me."

"Andrew knows."

"Andrew knows? How?"

"Ran in to him. Man, that guy is so gay," he added. "Not -- that -- there's -- anythin' wrong with bein' gay, but -- well --" Spike cut himself off. "He hugged me," he told Willow defensively. "Right in front of other people! 'D have been different if I actually liked the guy, but --"

"Is that all you needed to know?" Willow cut in.

"Pretty much, yeah." Spike turned to go, but he had one more thing to add. "Don't tell Buffy. That I'm back. Dunno if I want her to know, for now." He left Willow's office, closing the door gently behind him.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

No one really slept on Christmas Eve. Fred and George threw a party. A few first years, unknowing of the twins' tricks, were temporarily transformed into canaries or developed coughs.

Of course, they made a lot of sales, too. The Skiving Snackboxes were so popular that by ten o'clock, they had run out of their traveling supply. Even Hermione had bought one.

"You never know..." she had said sheepishly, handing George three Galleons.

The party was considerably more fun than most Gryffindor parties -- except for the one they'd had after they won the Quidditch Cup, of course. Someone got out their Wizarding radio and was blasting the WWN.

As usual, there was plenty of food that had been nicked from the kitchens. Three whole tables had been reserved for food, and there was a never-ending punch bowl filled with butterbeer.

Around three-thirty am, most people had gone up to bed. There were mostly only fifth, sixth, and seventh years still partying. Finally, the Head Girl (a small girl, Francis Merriwhether, who looked like a fifth year) declared that it was time for bed.

"Oh come on, you can't expect us to sleep now, can you?" Fred said.

Francis shrugged and went upstairs. When she reached the top, she said, "You can stay up, but if I hear any noise --"

"Yeah yeah, fine," George said, pulling out a deck of cards. "Exploding Snap, anyone?" Francis glared at him. "Um, older than you. Don't go here anymore," he said.

"No noise," she said, slamming the door to her dormitory.

George made a rude gesture after her that made Hermione tut, but she didn't say anything.

"I'm too hyper to be quiet!" Ron said, bouncing around.

"Let's go outside then," Harry said.

"Are you crazy? It's freezing!" Hermione protested. "And it's dark!"

Ron looked at his watch. "It should be sunrise in a few hours. But you don't have to come if you don't want to, with your girlieness and all."

This finalized Hermione's decision. She ran upstairs and grabbed her cloak.

"We're used to the cold," Dean said to Hermione, heading out the portrait hole. "Have a snowball fight for ten hours and it hardens you."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Harry, wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Deciding that poking him wouldn't to, Fred grabbed Harry's pillow from under his head and began whacking him with it.

George was at Ron's bed, shaking him awake. More like tossing him about his bed at the severity of his shaking.

Ron groaned. "I'm up, already!" He grabbed his pillow and hit George with it.

"Oy! Come on now! Open your presents."

"Fred, get off me!" Harry was still being beaten with his own pillow.

"He lives! Come on now. Let's open our presents."

"But -- what about Hermione?"

"What about her, little bro?"

"Well -- she's always with us on Christmas morning when we open our presents."

"So?"

"Come on, we can't break tradition! I'm gonna go get her." Ron got up to get Hermione, then he remembered. "We can't go into the girls dormitories."

"Aw, you remembered! We were hoping you'd forget and slide down the stairs again," George teased. "That was funny."

"She's probably up already. I'll go and check."

Ron ran into Hermione after going down about three stairs.

"Oh, sorry Ron. I-I was just about to go and see if you guys were up yet -- um -- are you?"

"Yeah. I was just about to go and get you."

"Happy Christmas, everyone!" Hermione said as she opened the door.

"Happy -- Christmas -- Hermione," Harry said, beating Fred with his pillow after every word.

"Let's open our presents and then go down to breakfast, shall we?" Fred suggested, sitting down at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Yeah, cuz we've never done that before." Harry flopped over to the end of his bed and grabbed a present.