Disclaimer: Only two characters in the story are mine. The rest are either Joss Whedon's or JK Rowling's. Wouldn't it be cool if they did collaborate on something?
Sweet. Don't sue.

 

Teachers: Angel: Defense Against the Dark Arts

                Buffy and Faith: Self-Defense

                Wesley: History of Magic (Hermione’s uncle)

                Willow and Tara: Levitation

                Giles: Magical lore and Mythology

 

The Beginning.

 

 

Black Dogs and Englishmen…

                He was accustomed to people banging on his door at all hours of the night.

                But Wesley Wyndham-Pryce had never opened his door to be faced with a large black dog before.

                He was shocked.

                And not because the dog transformed into a black-haired, ripped-robed man.

                “Sirius?” Wesley asked. “Good lord. Sirius Black?”

                Sirius nodded. “Hello, Wesley. Long time, no see.”

                Wesley took a step back. “Black, I don’t know what you want here, but-”

                Sirius looked down. “Wesley… I… it’s all my fault, I know,” he said shamefully.

                “You’re damned bloody right it is,” Wesley snapped. “How dare you show up here after all you’ve done!”

                “I didn’t turn in James and Lily.”

                Wesley stopped dead. “Liar.”

                “No, Wesley, I didn’t,” Sirius pleaded. “Please… I switched places with Peter at the last minute. He turned them in.”

                “How dare you blame what you did on a dead man!” Wesley cried. “You’re sick!”

                “He’s not dead!”

                Sirius held out the Daily Prophet article he’d gotten two years back.

                Wesley snatched it and studied the photo of the Weasleys. He got one good look at Scabbers, or, as he now realized, Peter Petigrew, and nearly fell over. “Good lord.”

                “I didn’t turn them in.”

                Wesley nodded, but still stood there looking stunned until Sirius gave him a short tight hug, complete with a pat on the back.

                Wesley’s nose wrinkled. “You smell like-“

                “Dog?” Sirius asked. “Well, yeah.”

                Wesley shook his head. “Sirius how did you get here? Oh, forget that. How did you get out of Azkaban?”

                Sirius shook his head. “Never mind that.” He walked into Wesley’s apartment. “Nice, mate.”

                “Why are you here, of all places?” Wesley asked.

                Sirius’ carefree expression turned deathly serious as he stared at his old friend. “Wes, old boy… I’ve got some bad news.”

                “Well, let’s have it.”

                “Remember Voldemort?”  

                Wesley glared. “That’s the stupidest question anyone’s ever asked me. What do you think, you right ponce?”

                Sirius sighed. “Seems that old Tom Riddle is back. And bodied.”

                Wesley went pale. “This is a joke. How the hell did you get out of Azkaban?!”

                Sirius shook his head. “Wesley, I tell you. I wish I were joking.”

                Wesley sat on his couch. “You should take a shower.” He pointed. “Shower’s that way. You can borrow some of my clothes. I’ll order a pizza.”

                Sirius gave him a blank look. “Pizza?”

                Wesley shook his head. “Just go.”

                No sooner had Sirius closed the bathroom door, was there another knock on the front one.

                Wesley pulled it open to find Albus Dumbledore standing there in, of course, his full wizard robes.

                “Professor Dumbledore?” Wesley asked, standing aside to let the older man inside. “How did you get on my front door step?”

                “I apparated,” he replied. “And it just wouldn’t do to just show inside your home. Quite rude, I think.” He looked around. “It’s very nice. Has Sirius shown up yet?”

                “Yes,” Wesley replied. “He’s in the shower.”

                Dumbledore looked Wesley over and nodded. “He told you. I’m sorry to spring this on you, Wesley, but we need your help.”

                Wesley shook his head. “I’m no wizard, anymore. I’m a watcher remember? Just like my father wanted me to be.” He sighed. “I don’t think I can help you.”

                Dumbledore shook his head. “Quite the contrary. I’m looking for some new teachers for some new class ideas I have. And… I hear you’ve teamed yourself with some warriors.”

                Wesley nodded. “A slayer and a Champion. There’s another slayer that’s not mine, but she’s very close to mine. She lives just south of here, with two witches and another watcher.”

                “Well… I’d love for you all to come teach. And help protect the school from Voldemort,” Dumbledore told him. “Any classes you want.” He smirked. “And practicing magic is somewhat like riding a cycal, as you Muggles call it.”

                “It’s a Bicycle,” Wesley corrected him.

                “Well, whatever. The point is. I want you and your friends. Whoever you think could do the trick in terms of teaching and protecting. I’d love to have you.”

 

 

Please Come to Hogwarts…

                “You wanna put young, impressionable minds in my hands? Wesley, did you get hit on the head, or something?”

                Wesley sighed at Faith from behind his desk in the Hyperian Hotel’s main office.

                “It’s not just teaching,” Sirius explained. “It’s for protection as well.”

                Angel sighed. “And you’re telling me Voldemort is back?”

                “Who’s that?” Cordelia asked.

                “Dark wizard who went around slaughtering normal humans and normal human-loving wizards,” Angel replied. “Spike and Dru loved him if I recall correctly.” 

                “So… how’d he die?” Fred asked.

                “He didn’t,” Sirius replied. “His body did. My godson, Harry, destroyed it. Voldemort killed Harry’s parents. His mother died protecting him, and her love for the boy made him untouchable to Voldemort. The curse he cast bounced off Harry and onto him. He’s spent about 14 years trying to come back to power and finally succeeded a month ago.”

                “So, we go fight him, right?” Gunn asked. “Kick his butt an everything?”

                Sirius shook his head. “No. No, you can’t do it that way. He’s got power beyond your wildest dreams, and he’s got followers. Death Eaters. No weapon will protect you from them.”

                “So how do you expect us to fight them?” Faith asked.

                “We don’t,” Sirius replied. “We just need you to protect the children.”

                Wesley sighed and looked to Angel. “They want Buffy, Willow, Tara and Giles, as well.”

                Angel looked down. “Well… we’ll just have to call them.”

                “You’re all right with that?” Cordelia asked doubtfully.

                “Why wouldn’t I be?”

                “She’s your ex.”

                Professor Dumbledore walked into the hotel, looking around him. “What a marvelous city. I swear, the Ministry doesn’t give you Muggles enough credit.”

 

                *RING*

                Angel sighed as her voice came through the phone.

                “Hello?”

                “Buffy. It’s Angel.”

                “Hi,” She said. “What’s up?”

                Angel sighed. “How do you feel about teaching abroad?”

 

                That night, Angel was stuffing his belongings into two over-night bags. One for clothing and the other for weapons and books.

                Cordelia sighed. “I still don’t see why Fred, Gunn and I have to stay here.”

                Angel sighed back. “Someone’s gotta help the hopeless, right? You guys could come visit for holiday break in December.”

                Cordelia shrugged. “I guess so… have you called Buffy?”

                “Yeah,” Angel replied shortly. “She, Giles, Willow and Tara are gonna come.”

                Cordelia sighed. “I wish I was going.”

                “Someone’s gotta help the hopeless,” Angel told her. “You guys’ll do fine. They really need our help up there.”

                “I know,” Cordelia replied. “Just…don’t get killed.”

                Angel smirked. “You always ruin my fun.”

                “Ha, ha, mister funny-pants.”

 

                A few days later, they had apparated to King’s Cross in England.

                Wesley felt like he was in his First year of Hogwarts again. Without a word to his companions, he went through the pillar that led to Platform 9 and ¾.

                Angel sighed and followed, shaking his head, followed by a large black dog.

                Buffy blinked. “I think I speak for all of us when I say… huh?”

                Dumbledore chuckled. “Platform 9 and ¾ is through that pillar. Just walk through.”

                Buffy blinked and glanced at her friends. “Okay. Willow, you’re going with me.”

                They hooked arms, and walked right through, followed by the rest of their group.

                Giles sighed tiredly, and brushed his jacket off. Faith turned to see that there was a door in place of the pillar on the other side.

                “Okay. This just might be the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” she commented.

                “You mean besides Xander?” Angel asked, looking back.

                “Oh, suddenly you’re all human so you have the quickest wit ever?” Faith snapped. “Shut your mouth.”

                Angel smirked, and hopped on the train with his two suitcases.

                Buffy stared after him with a curious glance.

                Angel… alive… in the sun… making silly jokes.

                It was new.

                It was… attractive.

                “Someone’s having lusty wrong-thoughts.”

                Buffy snapped her attention to Willow. “So not!”

                Willow snickered. “Whatever you say. Come on. Let’s get on the train.”

                The two girls walked on the train, and sat in a booth with Tara and Faith.

                “What do you think this will be like?” Tara asked.

                “I don’t know,” Willow replied. “Fun, I hope.”

                “Me, too.”

                 

                “So, Rupert. It’s good to see you again.”

                Giles smiled at Dumbledore. “You, too. I hope you’re well.”

                “I am.”

                “Good.”

                Wesley stared from one man to the other, and blinked. “Y-you know each other?”

                “Don’t be thick, Wesley,” Giles snapped. “I was a seventh-year at Hogwarts when you were in your first. All future watchers are sent to Hogwarts.”

                Dumbledore smirked. “You forget, Rupert, that you dropped out in the middle of your seventh-year. That, and first and seventh-years barely give each other the time of day.”

                Giles cleared his throat. “Yes, well… I did know a few first years… James Potter and Sirius Black.”

                “Who didn’t?” Wesley muttered, patting the black dog next to him on the head.

 

                When they arrived off the Hogwarts express, there were a few small boats waiting for, one with an incredibly large man standing in it. He had long black hair with an equally long beard.

                “’Lo, Professor. These the new acquisition?”

                “Yes, Hagrid,” Dumbledore replied. “These are the new teachers. Everyone, this is Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor.”

                “By Merlin,” Hagrid said in astonishment. “Issat Wesley Wyndham-Pryce?”

                “Hullo, Hagrid,” Wesley smirked. “It’s good to see you.”

                Hagrid smiled, and patted the younger man on the shoulder as he boarded. “You, too, Wesley. How’s life treated ya?”

                “Same as everyone else, I guess,” Wesley smirked. “You’ve become a professor. That’s wonderful.”

                Hagrid nodded. “Thanks. I’m always excited about startin a new year.”

                They boarded the boats, and started their journey to the Castle.

                Faith stared down at the water, and then at the people she was riding with. Wesley was keeping up a good conversation with Hagrid, Dumbledore was speaking with Giles, who in the other boat, and Angel was staring at… Buffy.

                Heh, heh, heh.

                Silently, she moved behind her zoned-out friend, and flipped him off the boat.

                “FAITH!”

                Wesley shook his head. “Faith. Why did you do that?”

                Faith shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

                Hagrid grinned, and stopped rowing the boat. He grasped Angel by the shirt and lifted him back onto the boat. He smirked at Faith. “You’ll fit in well wi’ yer students. Specially if ya wind up with the Weasley twins.”

                Dumbledore shook his head. “Don’t get Professor Morgan ideas, Hagrid. That could end badly… for a Slytherin.”

                Angel shook out his head and glared at Faith, he glanced at Buffy, who was giggling along with Willow and Tara.

                She was so beautiful when she laughed.

                He’d forgotten that.

                Although with the relationship they’d had, it was easy to forget.

                Faith rolled her eyes. She was about to flip Angel off the boat again, but her hand was grabbed by Wesley.

                “Once is enough, don’t you think?”

                Faith rolled her eyes again and slumped back, grumbling to herself.

               

                They finally made their way to the school, and Dumbledore led them inside, where all the other teachers were lined up, waiting for their arrival. They were introduced to Professor MacGonagall, Madame Hooch, Madame Pomfrey, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout, and a host of others.

                And then there was the greasy-looking one in black.

                Wesley glared.

                “What the hell is he doing here?” He said to Dumbledore. “You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”

                “Now, Wesley,” Dumbledore said. “He’s our potions teacher… and Remus can deal with him-”

                “Remus has an infinite supply of patience that the rest of us could never have. You honestly expect me to deal with Snape?”

                “Yes.”

                Wesley shook his head. “Fine. Merlin help me, but fine.”

                Snape glared at Wesley. “The feeling is mutual, Pryce. Believe me.”

                “Stop it, both of you, or I’ll-”

                Both turned to stare at Professor MacGonagall.

                “Just… try and get along,” she told them.

 

                 Dumbledore sighed at his new group of teachers, as they took their seats in his office. “Unfortunately, there aren’t enough rooms in the teacher’s wing to accommodate all of you. You may have to double and triple up.”

                The group turned to each other, as Dumbledore waited expectantly.

                “Okay,” Buffy said. “This is how it’s going to work. Angel and I will share a room. Willow, Tara and Faith. Giles and Wesley.”

                Giles gave his slayer a stern look. “You and Angel are not rooming together. You’ll room with Faith, Buffy. Angel, you’ll room with Willow and Tara.”

                Buffy rolled her eyes.

                Dumbledore smiled at the scene. He’d heard tell of the famous Slayer/Vampire forbidden romance. He’d also heard that said vampire was now human.

                “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Buffy Anne Summers,” Giles said calmly. “This is a school, not a cheep motel.”

                “Who said anything about cheep?” she asked.

                “Yeah, really,” Faith added on. “It’s pretty swanky for a school. But I’m sure B and A could turn it into the sight for a sleazy pornography in no time.”

                Buffy glared at her sister slayer.

                Angel sat between the two girls, reading a hefty book entitled: “Hogwarts: A History.” He was completely oblivious to the conversation. He put it down, and looked curiously at Dumbledore. “I thought Riddle went to Durmstrang?”      

                Dumbledore became grave and sighed. “Oh, no. Thomas Riddle was a student at Hogwarts. One of the finest. I was only a teacher at the time, though.”

                Angel nodded and went back to reading.

                Tara became curious. “Who’s Thomas Riddle?”

                Dumbledore pursed his lips. “An ex-student. Very powerful.”

                “And dangerous, and evil,” Wesley added. “He turned into one of the darkest wizards the world has ever seen. He went around killing Muggle-born wizards, and anyone who got in his way.”

                “Who was this guy?” Faith asked.

                “Thomas Riddle,” Giles replied. “Otherwise known as Voldemort.”

                The Buffy and the two witches blinked at them.

                Dumbledore sighed. “Another time. It’s quite late. Why don’t you all go settle in. Tomorrow is a big day. And a word of advice, while you’re here… Be aware of your students… they‘re not all… well… innocent.”

 

 

On The Fast Track…

                Buffy opened the door, and was about to leave, before Angel pulled her back into his grasp and kissed her softly. “See you tomorrow.”

                She nodded with a satisfied smirk. “I love you.”

                He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you, too.”

                And that’s when they heard a throat clear.

                They looked out the door slowly to see Severus Snape glaring in at them.

                “Professor Snape,” Angel said nervously. “What brings you about this early?”

                “I was on my way back from a discussion with Professor Dumbledore,” he replied. “And your door was open.”

                Buffy sighed and looked from one man to the other. “Actually, I was just about to go back to my room, which is why the door’s open.”

                Snape just stared.

                “We were… discussing…” Angel stammered. “How defense against the dark arts and… physical defense class could combine for maybe a crossover.”

                Buffy nodded vigorously. “I… gotta go back to my room. Thanks, Angel. You’re views were… helpful. We’ll talk again soon.” With that, she rushed out of the room and down the hall.

                Snape glared at Buffy’s back, and then turned his glare on Angel, who could only think to shrug, and shut his door.

                “Severus?”

                Snape turned around to be faced with the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. “Headmaster,” Snape greeted.

                “What’s going on?” Dumbledore asked. “Why are you outside of Professor O’Brien’s room?”

                Snape sighed. “There’s something strange going on with them.”

                Albus sighed. “Well, they’re adults. I’m sure they can handle it.”

                “They don’t act like adults,” Snape pointed out. “They act more like sixth-years.”

                Dumbledore smiled. “I find it quite refreshing to see two young people who haven’t lost their flare for life. Now, I’m off to bed. Goodnight, Severus.”

                “Goodnight, Headmaster.” With that, Snape walked in the other direction.

                Dumbledore tapped lightly on Angel’s door. He opened it slowly. “Professor Dumbledore,” he greeted. “Top o’ th’…” he looked at his watch. “Mornin.”

                Albus smiled. “Hello, Angel. I hear you’ve just had a bit of a run-in with Professor Snape.”

                Angel sighed. “Wasn’t anything.” 

                “He’s a wonderful teacher, Angel,” Albus replied. “He tends to terrorize his students a bit though. I’m off to bed.” He smiled. “Big day tomorrow. The students arrive. I suggest you get some rest, yourself.”

 

 

The Shuffle

                The train stopped at the station and Hermione, Ron, and Harry hopped off. Ron and Hermione had been acting strangely since they’d first seen each other at King’s Cross. Harry wrote it off for now, too excited about the start of the new term.

                 They were met by Hagrid as they collected some of their things.

                Apparently, as fifth years, they could choose any mode of transportation they wanted to get to the Hogwarts castle.

                “Can we ride with you again, Hagrid?” Hermione asked. “Please?”

                He smiled. “I don’t see why not.” He began to lead them to boats. “So, how were yer summers?”

                “We spent the whole summer at Ron’s house!” Harry said. “It was great! Charlie and Bill taught us how to float tables.”

                “Then you’ll be all ready fer th’ new levitation class won’t ye?” Hagrid asked.

                “Levitation?” Hermione asked.

                Hagrid nodded. “Two o’ the new teachers are headin’ off tha’ one. Should be interestin’. Good folk the new teachers are. First Muggle-born teachers Hogwarts has e’er had.”

                “Really?” Ron asked. “What’re they like?”

                Hagrid smiled. “There’re seven of ‘em. Three fellas. Four girls. Real nice people, an’ they look li’ they’ll make competent teachers.”

                They boarded the boat, and Hagrid began to lead the first-year boats toward the school.

                “Although, it’s rumored tha’ two of ‘em er havin’ and affair,” he informed them.

                “Really, that’s not very professional,” Hermione said.

                “No,” Hagrid agreed. “But they keep t’ themselves. Don’t make any noise. Apparently, all seven teachers’ve known each other for quite some time.”

                “This should get interesting,” Ron said, steeling a glance at Hermione. She smirked at him.

                Harry rolled his eyes. Great. Weirdness.

 

                The great hall was jam-packed, as usual, as it was, after all the great feast that opened up every school year. The sorting had been done, and Dumbledore addressed the masses.

                “Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! As you all well know from your letters, we have begun an exchange program with the American Wizarding school of Plenard in Massachusetts. Only two of our numbers were brave enough to sign up for this program. Parvoti Patil, and Lavender Brown. And in return, Hogwarts will be receiving two American students. I expect you all to treat them well when they arrive. Also,   This year, we have new classes, and new teachers to go along with them. May I present to you, the Magical lore and myth Professor, Rupert Giles…”

                An man, looking a bit older than the others, stood up in gray robes. His hairline was receding and turning gray, but he was handsome, none-the-less. He nodded to the student body, very professionally.

“…The Levitation professors, Willow Rosenberg and Tara Maclay…”

A redheaded woman in equally red robes stood up, along with a blond in olive green. They both waved to the crowd nervously.

“…The physical defense teachers, Professors Buffy Summers and Faith Morgan…”

A blond woman in white robes stood up, dragging a brunette woman with her. Her robes were black. The blond waved and smirked, while the brunette did nothing, just looking amongst the masses.

“…The History of Magic teacher, Professor Wesley Wyndham-Pryce…”

A sandy-blond-haired man stood up, pushing his glasses up his nose. His robes were dark blue and he nodded, like Professor Giles.

Hermione couldn’t believe it. “Ron… Harry… that’s… that’s my Uncle…”

They both looked at her as if she were mad. “What?” Ron asked.

“My mother’s brother… Wesley…”           

“…And the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Angel O’Brien.”

A tall man, looking about the age of each of the women stood up. His hair was dark brown and spiked, and his robes were even blacker than Snape’s. He gave a short bow.

Parvoti Patil and Lavender Brown giggled.

“He’s cute,” Parvoti said in a squeaky voice.

“I hear he’s having an affair with the blond in white,” Lavender whispered. “Lucky is what she is.”

Dumbledore smiled upon his teachers. “Let’s eat!”

 

“I’m looking for Hogwarts: A History,” Wesley told the librarian. “I’m having a bit of trouble finding it.”

The librarian sighed, and whispered. “The same one keeps renewing it. Has been for five years! It’s amazing how many times that Hermione Granger can read the same book over.”

Wesley’s brow furrowed. “Hermione Granger? What house is she in?”

“Gryffindor, I believe. But she practically lives here.”

Wesley smiled. “You’ve been most helpful.”

He walked away, into the depths of the books, leaving the librarian looking rather stunned.

Hermione was sitting in her favorite spot, reading a forgotten passage of Hogwarts: A History.

“Should’ve known I’d find you lurking about here.”

She turned slowly, and looked up to see her uncle, Wesley smiling down at her with his arms crossed.

“Uncle Wesley!” she cried, getting up, and hugging him.

“Not so loud,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her. “This is library, you know.”

“Where’ve you been?” Hermione asked. “Mum’s been trying to reach you for ages.”

Wesley sighed. “After my… watching ended… I got stuck in LA.”

“Why?”

He smirked. “You’ve been going to Hogwarts too long. It’s called currency. And the fact that I had none. But… I was offered this job… here, as were a few of my friends. So we all decided a change of scenery might be nice, and took them. And here I am.”

Hermione smiled. “Wait till Mum hears. I’ve got to send her an Owl.”

 

Angel had notice a change since the students had arrived.

Not only did he feel as if Snape was watching his every move, but every female student kept following him, trying to be noticed.

‘Well,’ he thought. ‘I may be oblivious to some things… but 250 years has taught me to know when I’m being followed.’

He smirked as he passed Buffy in the hall. She was giving deathly glares to each of the girls tailing him.

“I’m sending an Owl to Cordelia. Wanna join me?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “I should send one to Dawn.”

They joined hands, stopping each girl dead in their tracks, and headed up the stairs.

 

 

Just Like Home…

                Their first class the following Monday was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

                Hermione, Harry and Ron strode in early and took a look around the classroom.

                At the large wooden desk sat Professor Angel O’Brien. His brown hair was spiked, and his robes seemed even blacker than Professor Snape’s. Underneath, he wore a dark red button-down shirt with black slacks, and black boots. He looked up at them and gave a nod and a smirk. He got to his feet, revealing that he was over six feet in height.

                “Didn’t expect anyone t’ be early,” he told them. “C’n I get some names, please?”

                “Ronald Weasley,”

                Their Professor looked down at his attendance sheet and nodded. “Nice t’ meet you.”

                “I’m Hermione Granger.”

                “Heard lots about you. I expect great things,” Professor O’Brien told her.

                She smiled.

                “I’m Harry Potter.”

                “Ah,” their teacher said. “Now there’s a name. Nice t’meet you lot. Pull up some seats, the rest of the class should be in any minute.”

                He was right. A few moments later, the rest of the class hustled in and took to the seats.

                Professor O’Brien took roll, and then leaned against his desk, looking around. “You’re all in the same seats from Transfiguration. Let’s mix things up a bit. I’m sure no one bites.”

                “No one except  our Dark Art‘s teacher a couple years back,” Draco snorted.

                The Slytherins laughed along with a few Gryffindors.

                “Well,” Professor O’Brien said with a smirk. “I used to, so I guess tha’ makes us even.”

                The class fell silent.

                Their teacher smirked wildly. “We’ll get to that later. Ron, why don’t you and Draco switch places?”

                Ron went slightly pale at the thought of sitting next to Crabbe and Goyle, but did as he was told.

                Malfoy sat next to Hermione with a disgusted face. “Great. Right next to a Mudblood.”

                Ron was up in a snap, on his way over to Malfoy.

                “Scuse me, Mr. Malfoy. What did you just call Miss. Granger?”

                “Nothing,” Draco replied, becoming nervous at the dark look that fell on his teacher’s face.

                “Did I hear the word ‘Mudblood’ come outta yer mouth?”

                “No.”

                “Yes, you did,” Hermione replied, slumping in her chair. “Loud and clear.”

                Professor O’Brien shook his head. “Right then. Get out.”

                Draco blinked. “What?”

                “Y’ heard what I said, Malfoy. Out. Now.”

                Draco didn’t move. He was too shocked.

                “If you don’t get outta my class room right now-“

                With that, Draco Malfoy rose quickly and rushed out, pushing Ron on the way.

                “That’s eighty points from Slytherin!” Professor O’Brien cried. He looked upon his remaining students. “Sorry about that. Let’s get on with our first unit, shall we?”

 

                While their first Dark Arts class had been incredibly interesting, Hermione, Ron and Harry were still shaken by their new teacher’s reaction to Malfoy.

                “I like him already,” Ron told his friends. “Eighty points from Slytherin. That had to hurt.”

                Professor Snape rushed past them, right into Professor O’Brien’s classroom.

                “That should get interesting,” Hermione commented. “He didn’t have to do that. I’m used to Malfoy being horrible.”

                “He’s not,” Harry told her. “He looked rather offended.”

                “He’s Muggle-born,” said a voice from next to them.

                They turned to look at Professor MacGonagall.

                She sighed. “He came to this school a very long time ago, and, according to records, was teased about being so.”

                “Did you go to school with him?” Harry asked.

                She sighed. “He’s much older than I, Potter. Even older than Dumbledore.” With that, she walked off.

                “He barely looks thirty,” Hermione pointed out.

                “Come on,” Ron said. “We’ll figure it out later. Let’s get to History.”

 

                “Hello, Class. I’m Professor Wyndham-Pryce. Welcome to Magical History in the 19^th, 20^th, and 21^st centuries. Obviously, I’m a new teacher, so, please, don’t skewer me on my first day. If I remember Hogwarts correctly, that’s saved for day two.”

                The class giggled.

                “You went to Hogwarts, Professor?” Seamus asked.

                Their teacher nodded. “That I did.”

                “When?” Dean asked.

                “A long while ago,” he replied. “Before V- I mean… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

                “So you went to school with my Parents?” Harry asked.

                “Yes, actually, I did,” Pryce smiled. “Along with your former Dark Arts Professor, Remus Lupin.”

                “And Sirius Black?” Ron asked.

                He nodded. “Sirius, too. Along with your Potions teacher, Severus Snape, Draco’s father, Lucius Malfoy, and a host of other names, you’ve all probably heard before. But, unfortunately, we are not here to discuss my Hogwarts days. Although, if anyone would like to spend their lunch in here one day, I could tell you the most extraordinary tales from back then. Now… onto business.”

 

                She held up a wand. “If you face off against someone who is bigger and stronger than you, this is what’s going to happen.” Faith snapped the wand in two. It gave a little spark as she did. She dropped it on the floor and stared at their class.

                Buffy leaned against the wall behind her. She knew quite well that Faith was more menacing than she was. Buffy was fairly certain she could win if she and Faith ever fought again, but she wasn’t menacing, with her blond hair, and nice flowered sundress under her white wizards robes.

                Faith, on the other hand, like Angel, wore black wizards robes. And underneath she wore a blank tank top and vinyl pants, which was not at all like Angel. Her hair was dark and down as usual, and she looked mean.

                Buffy could only look mean when she was feeling mean. And she was fairly chilled out.

                Until she heard a comment from one of their students.

                He was blond. Very blond. And snide-looking, too.

                One name came to mind.

                Spike.

                Buffy shook her head out, and listened to his comment as Faith explained the point of their class.

                “This should be good. A girl is going to teach us how to fight.”

                Faith stopped dead in her tracks.

                The room went silent.

                “Did I just hear you say something, Flaxen-breath?” she asked. She walked right up to him, grabbed his collar and lifted him off the ground. “I don’t like your mouth, kid. You better watch it with me, you understand?”

                The blond squeaked.

                “I expect an answer Dweebo!” Faith snapped. “NOW!”

                “Yes! I understand!” He cried with his eyes closed.

                Faith set him down, and addressed the room. “You see that? Never let anybody push you around like I just did to- what’s yer name?”

                “D-Draco Malfoy.”

                “Right. Whatever. Not even a teacher. You guys live in a world where anyone, anyone can go bad, and push people around. Take the V-word for instance. You gotta learn to be ready for anything. And that’s what I, and Professor Summers are here for.”

 

                “Welcome to Levitation! I’m Professor Maclay.”

                “And I’m Professor Rosenberg… ugh… it makes me sound so old.. Forget that, just call me Willow.”

                “Hey, Weasley!” Draco Malfoy called from the back of the room. “Another relative of yours?”

                “Shut it, you Ferret-y bastard,” Ron snapped.

                Willow looked down at her seating chart and smirked. “Hey, you, Malfoy, Spike, whatever your name is, come sit in the front row.”

                Draco rolled his eyes. “Wonderful.” He got up and moved to the front of the classroom, right across from Ron.

                “Wanna see something fun?” Willow asked Ron. She raised a hand, and Malfoy flew into the air. He screamed, and landed safely back in his seat.

                The class laughed.

                “That’s a taste of what you’ll be learning in here,” Professor Maclay said nervously. “T-Thank you, Willow, for that wonderful example.”

               

                Wesley Wyndham-Pryce walked back into his classroom after picking up some lunch in the great hall to find the desks full with students. Not only ones he’d had in his class, but ones he didn’t recognize, as well. Two boys who looked remarkably like Ron Weasley, along with a girl who had their features. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, along with Angel, Buffy, Faith, Willow, Giles and Tara. And, to his surprise, Dumbledore and Snape as well.  

                He blinked. “Hello, everyone. What can I do for you?”

                “You said you had some juicy gossip, Wesley,” Albus Dumbledore replied with a smile. “Let’s have it.”

                Wesley smiled and took a seat at his desk. “Well, let me start out by saying that these stories are true. This was all before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Back to a time when I was a third-year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry….”

 

                At the same time, outside of the library A small Ravenclaw boy fell too the ground, dead. His eyes still open.

 

                It had been Neville Longbottom who’d found the Ravenclaw. Neville screamed so high and so loud it had brought everyone within a 20-mile radius running to the scene.

                The group that had gathered in Wesley’s classroom came rushing up, Angel in the lead. He stopped short, making everyone behind him slam into each other.

                Angel went ghostly pale.

                “I didn’t do it,” Neville stammered. “I swear. It wasn’t me. I found him like this. Please don’t send me to Azkaban.”

                Angel put up his hands. “Neville… no one is blaming you. What… happened?”

                “I… didn’t touch him, I swear. I found him like this,” Neville looked as though he were about to cry.

                Angel inched forward, and looked over the boy, noticing two small, red puncture holes in his neck. His skin was white. Other than the holes, the boy had no signs of injury.

                Angel sighed. “Buffy? Faith?”

                The girls came forward and glanced at the boy’s neck.

                Faith stamped a foot. “Dammit!”

                Hermione looked horrified, clutching Ron‘s arm. “W-what happened to him?”

                Dumbledore turned to the crowd forming. “Everyone back to your common rooms! House leaders will wait with you until we have further information! Go! Now!”

                The crowd turned and walked away, all except Harry, Ron and Hermione.

                “You heard what Professor Dumbledore said,” Willow told them. “We’ll let you know.”

                The three looked at each other, and then hesitantly headed back to Gryffindor tower.

                Dumbledore turned to them. “Well? You all seem to know what’s going on.”

                “Vampires,” Angel said. “You’ve got some kinda nest in the school.”

                “What?” Dumbledore asked. “How can that be?”

                “This is very clean work,” Wesley commented. “They’re obviously quite old and quite skilled.”

                “Any calling cards?” Buffy asked.

                Angel sighed. “Not that I can tell.”

                Dumbledore looked around them and spotted Peeves staring from around a corner. “Come on. We’d better discuss this far away from prying eyes.”

                He herded them to his office and shut the door.

                “What about the body?” Faith asked.

                “I’ve already called Madam Pomfry and the Ministry of Magic,” Dumbledore informed them. “They should be on their way. You said vampires?”

                “Two puncture marks on the side of the neck,” Angel replied. “Standard obvious hint.”

                “Usually,” Giles said. “If the vampire is well-known, it will leave some sort of calling card.”

                “It was way clean,” Faith commented. “Especially for a vampire. So the vampire was female.”

                Wesley nodded. “Yes, that should be right. But even females get a bit sloppy, especially if they’re in a hurry.”

                Angel pounded a fist on Dumbledore’s desk. “Damn.”

                Buffy stared at him. “What?”

                “What vampire is just insane enough to make a killing that clean?” Angel asked, looking at Buffy with worried and guilty eyes.

                Buffy got his drift immediately and slid into the chair next to him. “Oh, god.”

                “And who’s just crazy enough to bring her here if she wanted to be here?” Angel asked.

                “Oh, god.”

                Dumbledore shook his head. “If the two great warriors have theories, there’s no use in keeping them from the rest of us.”

                “Spike and Dru,” Angel replied. “It’s gotta be.”

                “No railroad spike,” Faith pointed out.

                “Wasn’t Spike’s killing,” Buffy said. “It was Dru’s. She’s anal.”

                “We gotta find them,” Angel said, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go unpack my weapon bag. I’ll be up in my room.” He turned to Dumbledore. “In the meantime, if I were you, I’d start hanging crosses around every corner, and replacing all of your water supplies with the holy type.” He shouted back as he left. “And keep the curtains open in the daytime!”

 

 

Blood and Bleach…

The school was buzzing with news of Ravenclaw’s violent demise. For three days, the scene of his murder was closed off, and Ministry of Magic officials littered the halls. Several different officials had questioned Neville several different times, and Harry suspected the boy was traumatized for life.

The week afterward, there was definite changes in the attitudes of the professors and the look of the school. You’d couldn’t turn around without seeing a cross hanging from the wall, and all curtains, by order of headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and the Ministry of Magic, were to remain open until the sun had completely set.

                Night Quidditch practices were banned, and all teachers were on patrol for students wandering at night. Professors Rosenberg, Wyndham-Pryce, Giles and Maclay did nightly dorm checks and roll calls, while Professors O’Brien, Summers and Morgan roamed the grounds.

                Rumors of Vampires spread like wildfire.

                And finally, it happened.

                Draco Malfoy had slipped out as soon as the Slytherin check-in was through, and headed into the halls of Hogwarts.

                He was desperate to find himself a real-(un)live vampire.

                He didn’t want to confront it, or kill it. Just to see it. Maybe watch it kill.

He turned a corner to see a man and woman strutting through the halls, arm in arm. They looked quite pleased with themselves.

“The cat tasted li’ chalk,” the woman pouted in a breathy voice, her long, red dress flowed elegantly as it only slightly touched the floor.

The man, a bleach-blond with blue eyes, wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and a long, leather duster, sighed. “Told you not t’ eat th’ cat, ducks. I offered you some janitor, but you wouldn’t have it.”

“He looked crusty,” the woman replied. Her eyes widened. “And I’d never tried kitty before.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, and sighed. “I smell boy.”

The man smirked mischievously and lit a cigarette he’d pulled from a pack in his jacket. “Do you, now? Now, that’s interesting. Thought they were lockin’ up th’ little buggers till they fixed their vampire problem.”

“Rotten, stinky, dishonest boy,” the woman went on. “Come out, boy. Let Mummy have a look at you.”

Malfoy didn’t move, unfortunately, he did let out an involuntary squeak.

The man stopped. “I heard that.” He swaggered around the corner, and stood in front of Draco. “Hello, there. What brings you down this way at such an… unsafe time of night.”

“V-V-V-“

“Vampires?” the man asked. “Names William the Bloody, mostly known as Spike, now. That over there, that’s my baby, Drusilla.”

“Y-you’re-“

“Vampires,” Spike finished, taking a drag off his cigarette, showing off his black-painted fingernails. “We knew that. You obviously knew that. Shut up so I can eat you.”

“He looks like you.”

Spike turned to Drusilla. “What?”

She smiled and walked up to the two boys. She grabbed Malfoy’s cheeks and pulled as hard as she could without ripping them off. “He looks just like you, Spike. Blond, and mean and nasty.”

“Sounds like Spike to me.”

The trio turned to see Angel O’Brien leaning against a wall.

“You didn’t think you’d actually get away, did you?” Angel asked.

“You’re not my Daddy,” Drusilla said roughly. “Go away.”

“Not until you’re dead, Drusilla,” Angel replied. “Shoulda offed you when I had the chance.”

“Liar,” Drusilla snarled. “You couldn’t do it. You still can’t.”

“Maybe not,” Angel replied. “But I’ll be perfectly happy about killing Spike.”

“Like you could,” Spike replied with a smirk. “You’re nothing but a washed up, puny human. We’re vampires, mate. We can break you.”

“Ah, but you can’t possibly break both of us,” said a female voice.

Professor Buffy Summers sauntered up to stand next to Angel, followed closely by Professor Faith Morgan.

“Let the Slytherin go,” Faith said.   

“Look at this. The dynamic bloody duo back together and still in denial. And they’ve even brought along the killer as well. Finally out of your cell, are you?”

“What happened to the chip, Spike?” Buffy asked.

“Dru did me right,” he explained. “just plunged a hand right into my skull and ripped the bugger out, just li’ the Powers did with your demon, Nancyboy. ‘Cept a lot more painful.”

“You wanna know painful?” Angel growled. “It’s gonna be when I rip your head off.”

“Harsh words, Poof. Can you back ‘em up?”

“I don’t think you wanna find out.”

“Spike, I’m hungry,” Drusilla wined.

“So, eat.”

“You put one fang near him, and you’re dust,” Buffy said, aiming her crossbow.

They were at a standoff. Angel and Faith ready to jump Spike, Buffy with her crossbow pointed at Drusilla, Drusilla’s hand gripping Malfoy’s throat tightly.

And that’s when Peeves showed up.

“VAMPIRES!!! THERE ARE VAMPIRES AT HOGWARTS!” he screamed.

Spike and Drusilla took this as their chance to make a run for it. They left Malfoy to fall to his knees.

Angel, Faith and Buffy gave mad chase through the halls, not bothering to check on Malfoy. They came to a three-way intersection and split up, only to meet back at the same spot twenty minutes later.

“I got nothing,” Faith growled. “Dammit! Where the hell did they go?!”

Angel sighed. “They coulda gone to one of the dorms.”

“Without a password?” Buffy asked.

“They’re good,” Angel said. “They could easily get one.”

They walked back to where Malfoy was still sitting on the cold stone floor.

Buffy knelt down in front of him, and began examining his head and neck. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, no thanks to you lot,” Draco snapped.

Angel glared. “He’s fine. And that’s ten points from Slytherin for disrespectful words to a teacher.”

“And another ten for being out of bed when you’re not supposed to be,” Buffy added, as she finished looking over his neck. “What were you thinking, roaming around like that?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know…”

Faith smirked. “This one wanted to see him a real dead vampire, didn’t you, Draco?”

“Maybe,” he snapped back. “What do you care? You didn’t even check to see if I was alright after that witch let me go.”

“That was no witch,” Buffy told him. “That was Drusilla. A very dangerous, very insane vampire.”

Angel sighed and shook his head out. “And I made her that way. Buffy, Faith, you guys get Malfoy back to his dorm. I’m gonna keep looking.”

Buffy got to her feet, shaking her head. “I won’t let you face them alone. Spike’s de-chipped. He’s more dangerous than ever, now. And you’re human.”

“With strength, and at least a little healing,” Angel reminded. “I’ll be okay. Go. Check on Willow and the others.”

“No,” Buffy replied. “I won’t let you take full responsibility for this.”

Angel’s eyes became hard. “They are my responsibility.”

“They’re here because of me, too, y’know,” Buffy replied harshly. “Spike wants me dead.”

Faith shook her head. “Come on, Malfoy. Let’s get you to bed, and let them duke it out and waste time.”

“Why do they fight like that?” Draco asked, looking back at the two teachers.

Faith shook her head. “It’s a long, sad story. You don’t wanna know. No one does. I wish I didn’t.”

 

“I can’t believe you talked me into letting you come.”

Buffy smirk, and pulled her large blue sweat-pants up. Her white sweatshirt protected her from the cold, and her feet were in, of course, black and white sneakers. “You can’t say no to me,” she told him dryly. “If I were Spike and Dru, where would I be?”

Angel sighed as they walked through the great hall. He put his hands on his black sweat-pants covered hips, and shrugged his black t-shirt covered shoulders. “I was thinking Hogsmeade.”

Buffy shook her head. “They can’t be that far away by now.”

Angel sighed. “I know we’re not in the sewer or anything, but we should talk about what’s been happening.”

Buffy blinked. “That was a random change of topic. What do you mean, ‘What’s been happening?’”

“With us,” Angel replied. “Can this really work with us?”

Buffy sighed. “Angel, do you love me?”

He nodded. “Forever.”

“I love you. But you’re right. We still have a lot of talking to do. About… Riley and Spike, and Cordy, and Jeirah, and missing days, and… and everything.”

He nodded, and kissed her. “I’m just sick of sneaking around.”

“Me, too,” Buffy replied. “But it’ll be over soon.”

Angel nodded again. “Okay. Let’s keep looking.”

Little did the two professors know that they were being watched, and listened to.

Underneath the long Gryffindor table, sat Harry, Ron and Hermione underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak. Ron flung it off when Professor O’Brien and Professor Summers had left.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Harry muttered.

“Who are Spike and Dru?” Ron asked.

“Obviously whatever it was that kill INSERT NAME,” Harry replied.

“Vampires,” Hermione said. “I should go ask my uncle Wesley. Now, come on. If we’re spotted, we’ll get into trouble.”

“Far too late for that, Hermione Katherine Granger.”

The trio looked up to find Professor Wyndham-Pryce standing over them, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

“What are you three doing out?” Wesley asked. “It’s dangerous. Please, go back to the tower.”

“What about you?” Hermione asked. “What’re you doing out?”

“Looking for Professors O’Brien and Summers.”

“They just left,” Ron told him. 

Wesley nodded. “I’m going to escort you three back to the tower,” he told them.

They walked back up to the common room in the Gryffindor tower, to find Professor MacGonagall looking furious.

“Good lord!” she cried. “Where did you find them!? What happened?! Why were they out?!”

Wesley sighed, cool as ever. “Hermione had another sleep-walking case… when she was younger she had them all the time, not so much anymore, but once in a blue moon… anyways, I found them in the Great Hall. Ron and Harry had followed her to try and wake her up. She walked into a table, and snapped out of it, and that’s when I found them.”

MacGonagall glared into Wesley’s light blue eyes, and finally sighed. “Fine. But no more of that. Granger, look yourself in your room if you have to. I don’t want anyone out at night. Period. Did you find Professors O’Brien and Summers?”

Wesley sighed. “No, I did not, unfortunately. I’m certain they’re fine. They’re quite skilled. Not Aurors, mind you, but very good at what they do.”

 

Meanwhile, Willow and Tara were stuck in the Slytherin common room.

                The students were completely silent, as was Snape, who’d told them to all be silent. Willow and Tara had resorted to playing Cat’s Cradle with the drawstring from Tara’s gray sweat pants. Willow had given her red drawstring to Pansy Parkinson, who actually thanked her for it.

                And then the door was kicked open, and Faith walked in confidently, her combat boots making loud thuds on the wooden floor. She was wearing black boxers and an equally black tank top. Her hair, as always, was loose.

                Right behind her was Draco Malfoy.

                Snape looked furious.

                “Where have you been?” He glared.

                “He went vampire-huntin’,” Faith replied. “Almost got himself eaten. I’d pay closer attention to your charges, if I was you, Sev. They get lost easily y’know. Oh… and… ten points off for a nasty comment to a teacher, and another ten off for being out of bed. Now, if you’ll all ‘scuse me, I need to go find me some dead ‘uns.”

                She smirked at Willow and Tara and tromped out.

                Snape glared after her.

 

 

Gym Shorts…

                “I don’t believe it.”

                Ron held up yellow gym shorts with “HOGWARTS” printed on the back, and a gray t-shirt with a smaller Hogwarts emblem.

                Hermione sighed. “They have them in Muggle schools. Apparently, you can work much better in these than you can in robes.”

                Ron scowled. “I’m not wearing these.”

                “Wanna bet, Weasley?”

                They turned to see Professor Morgan.

                “Did you check these out with Professor Dumbledore?” Harry asked.

                Professor Summers smiled as she walked up. “He thought they were cute.”

                Malfoy walked out, wearing his gym clothes. “I hate Muggles.”

                Morgan snickered. “The shorts are a nice match with your hair, kid. Ron, Hermione, Harry, please go put your gym clothes on.”

                Ron grumbled as Harry dragged him into the boy’s locker room.

                Five minutes later, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were gathered with their teachers in front of them, who were also dressed in the Hogwarts gym clothes, except Professor Summers’ shorts were white, and Professor Morgan’s were black.

                “Okay,” Professor Summers said. “Even though things here at Hogwarts are kind of scary right now, Professor Dumbledore has ordered that classes go on like normal. Therefore, as planned, you’re all wearing gym clothes, and have your own gym lockers. I know, it’s not terribly exciting, but who knows, you might have fun.”

                Professor Morgan sighed. “Okay, first unit today will be sword fighting. Let’s pair everyone up. Slytherin versus Gryffindor, just to make things more interesting.”

                Professor Summers didn’t look pleased with her partner. “Is that a good idea?” she asked quietly.

                “We don’t want ‘em to get bored,” Professor Morgan replied. “Potter versus Malfoy. Weasley versus Crabbe. Granger versus Parkinson, Thomas versus Goyle, Patil versus…”

                Hermione paled as she saw Pansy smile. “Bloody hell.”

                The list went on, and each student was handed a sword.

                “These swords are enchanted,” Professor Summers informed them. “If the holder, intentionally tries to harm his or her opponent, the handle shocks them, forcing them to drop the sword.” She stared at Draco Malfoy. “Is that understood?”

Malfoy sneered at Harry. “You got lucky, Potter. I could slice you in two.”

“When snakes fly,” Harry growled.

                “When one fighter knocks another one to the ground, the match is over,” Professor Summers went on. “Each fighter will put their swords    on the ground after that. No cheep tricks. No spells. If I see any, points will be taken off. A lot of them. And you won’t be happy. Trust  me.”

                Professor Morgan smirked. “Okay, boys and girls. Get to it!”

 

                They walked out of their respective locker rooms and onto levitation class. Harry had had Malfoy on the ground in not time. Ron’s time with Crabbe was even shorter. Hermione, however, had suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of Pansy. 

                They walked into Professor Rosenberg and Maclay’s class and took their seats.

                “I’ll get her next time,” Hermione grumbled.

                “Face it,” Ron said. “You’re not cut out for fighting. You’re doomed to hide in the library for the rest of your life.”

                “That’s not a bad thing,” Willow said. “Besides what you lack in physical strength you more than make up for in brain power. And it’s fun to outsmart your enemies. Because most of the time, enemies are stupid.”

                Hermione smiled. “You really think so?”

                “I live so.”

                “Today’s class will be spent levitating people,” Professor Maclay announced. “It’s challenging, but fun.”

                “Any student who makes another student hit the ceiling will be punished, by the way,” Willow told them. “So leave poor Neville alone this time.”

                The Slytherins snickered.

                “So pair up! And no mixed houses!”

 

                “Vampires suck.”

                The class fell silent.

                Professor O’Brien smirked. “Blood. Lots of it.”

                The class snickered.

                “They’re also very dead. And when I say dead, I mean pale, cold skin, they only can pretend to breath, no heartbeat, no pulse, and some of them even have skin decay, but that’s rare, because, well, vampires are very vain, even though they can’t see their own reflection. They love clothing, nice places, makeup, money. Anything that reflects wealth, It’s a big thing for them.”

                Hermione raised a hand.

                “Yes, Miss Granger?”

                “How does one… become a vampire?”

                Professor O’Brien sat on his desk and scratched his arm through his black robes. “Well… if a vampire takes a liking to a human… they drink their blood… but not all of it… just enough so they’re almost dead. They feed the nearly dead human some of their blood, and the human appears to die, but… they’re just sleeping. The next night, they’re usually already buried by their loved ones, and they rise.”

                “How come they’re so evil?” Ron asked.

                “When a vampire rises, it loses its soul,” their teacher explained. “Soulless beings have no clear sense of right and wrong. They want what they want, and it doesn’t matter how horrible it is, or who dies or is hurt in the process of getting it… kind of like Malfoy over there.”

                The Gryffindors snickered, and Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

                “There was… once… a vampire with a soul,” O’Brien went on. “Legend has it that he killed the wrong girl, a gypsy, and her family became so angry that they cursed the vampire with a soul. Well… he moved to America, and roamed around, feeling guilty for eighty years, because for 150, he gave ugly death to everyone he’d ever met.” His expression became far away. “Family, friends. Complete strangers. It didn’t matter.”

                He blinked and shook his head. “Anyways, eventually, he decided, with the help of a few people, that he wanted to atone. So, he moved to LA and became a champion for good. After about six years of this, of helping people, the higher powers saw fit to turn him super-human. They say that he is still helping people, still making a difference.”

                He leaned in, and his voice became low. “Some say he attended this very school.”

                Ron and Harry looked at each other, and then back at him. Harry glanced behind him to see Hermione flipping the pages of one of her books furiously.

                Professor O’Brien sighed. “For those vampires who aren’t just fluffy puppies with bad teeth, methods of getting rid of them are- and write these down, please…”

 

                Lunch in Professor Wyndham-Pryce’s classroom had been canceled so he could do some more research in the Library.

                Hermione smiled happily as she followed her uncle to the very back, and sat down, as he began to slide books out of their places.

                “What we’re looking for,” he told her, “are a few spells that will hopefully keep vampires from entering Hogwarts. Professor Rosenberg had a few, but… well… we had a bit of a problem a few months back, and they were set on fire.”

                “I thought Professor Rosenberg had a computer?” Hermione asked.

                “She does, But the one with the spells was thrown out of a window.”

                “Oh.”

                Wesley smirked at her. “Get searching. I’ll find more books.”

                “Uncle Wesley?”

                “Yes, Hermione?”

                “Is it true that a vampire went to Hogwarts… the one that Professor O’Brien talks about… the one with a soul?”

                Wesley’s lips turned up into a smirk. “Yes, I believe I read that somewhere, why?”

                Hermione shrugged. “No reason.”

 

 

Waves of Fright…

                Professor Faith Morgan walked by the Slytherin table in the Great Hall during lunch that day. The most prominent noise was coming from Draco Malfoy's mouth.

                "I heard that two of the teachers are having sex," he informed his fellow Slytherins.

                Faith rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, do you even know anything about sex?"

                "Children are conceived from it," Draco snapped back.

                At that point, Buffy walked by the table, and stopped to monitor her sister slayer's behavior.

                "Lemme tell you something about sex," Faith smirked.

                "Faith, no," Buffy whispered.

                Faith muttered something into Malfoy's ear that made him go ghostly white.

                Buffy dragged Faith away from the table. "What did you tell him?"

                "Something Lucius should have told him a long time ago. He's fifteen, and he doesn't know anything about sex. No wonder he's such an asshole." She smiled. "Scuse me." Faith ran over to the head of the Gryffindor table. "Malfoy doesn't know what sex is!"

                The whole table burst into laughter.

                “I knew he was an idiot,” Ron laughed. “But that’s ridiculous!”

                Harry snickered. “Explains why he’s so cranky!”

                “Even Ginny knows about sex!” Ron hollered.

                “George! You wanna order Malfoy a whore for his birthday?”

                “What a smashing idea, Fred! We could get Pansy!”

                Hermione flinched. “I wouldn’t say that if I was you, she’ll kick your arse.”

                Buffy shook her head.

                "Professor Morgan!" An outraged voice cried. "A word please!"

                Faith turned to see Professor Snape bounding toward her. She cracked up and beamed at Fred and George Weasley. "I'm in trouble now."

                Meanwhile Angel stopped next to Buffy. "What did she do this time?"

                "She's become the patron saint of Gryffindors scorned," Buffy replied. "Completely humiliated Draco Malfoy."

                Angel sighed. "That's our Faith. Did you hear that Filch is missing?"

                Buffy nodded. “I think we found out who Spike and Dru ate the night we found them.”

                Angel nodded solemnly.

 

                "Professor Snape, what can I do for you?" Professor Morgan leaned casually against the Gryffindor table, gazing politely at Professor Snape.

                "You're spreading rumors about one of my students," Snape hissed.

                Professor Morgan sighed and reached into her robes, pulling out a small box of Altoids. "Mint?" she offered.

                He glared at her. "I don't find you amusing, Professor."

                "I don't find you scary, Severus," she replied. "You're kid gloves in terms of scary. You glare and you yell and you're ugly, but you're not scary. I've known Muggles scarier than you. I'm scarier than you. And I could have you begging for mercy in five seconds flat." With that, she pushed past him and stormed out of the great hall.

                Buffy and Angel watched her leave without shock.

                "Think one of us should talk to her?" Angel asked.

                Buffy shook her head. "Nah."

                At that moment, Ginny Weasley walked into the great hall looking like death. Her three brothers began to rush over, seeing her look, but

Angel got to her first. “Ginny?” He knelt in front of the fourth-year. “What happened?”

                “F-Filch… and… Mrs. N-N-Norris… I found where they went off to…”

                Angel nodded sympathetically and got to his feet. “Show me.”

                Ginny led him out of the great hall, and the boys tried to follow, but Buffy stopped them.

                In the hall, Faith spotted Ginny. “Gin? Y’okay kid?”

                Angel sighed. “She found where Filch and his cat ran off to.”

                Faith paled. “Oh, shit.”

               

                The two teachers followed Ginny up to the Gryffindor common room and she opened the far closet with shaking hands.

                Filch and Mrs. Norris were hanging on two different coat hangers. The cat in two different pieces. Filch’s hanger went through the skin and fit perfectly around his shoulder blades. His eyes were still open. There was no blood. He almost looked like a costume hanging there.

                Angel pushed Ginny behind him into Faith, who put her arms around the girl. “Take her to Madame Pomfrey. And go get the other teachers.”

                Faith nodded, and guided the stunned Ginny to the painting.

                “Professor Morgan?” Ginny asked.

                “Yeah?”

                “Was it really vampires that did that?”

                Faith sighed. “Yeah, Ginny. It was. Now come on. You look like you could use some chocolate.”

                The girl nodded, and let Faith lead her out of the painting.

                Ginny glanced back at the painting, and gasped.

                Faith whirled around to see Spike’s handwriting on the painting in blood.

 

                Run, Run as fast as you can. You can’t catch us. We’ll eat you first.

 

                Ginny began to shake, and Faith pushed her away from the painting, muttering a string of obscenities as she did.

 

                Professor Dumbledore shook his head. “This is the last straw. They can get into the dorms. We have to close the school.”

                “Headmaster, with our combined efforts, I’m certain we can have those two in no time,” Giles said.

                Dumbledore nodded. “I agree, but the children cannot be here when that happens.”

                “What do we do with them all?” Tara asked. “There are so many.”

                “Don’t worry about that, Professor Maclay,” Dumbledore replied. “I have a course of action. But we have to be swift about this. Minerva, send owls to Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, Plenard and Americus.”

 

                The next day in levitation class, the students were silent. Even Malfoy refrained from saying a word.

                Tara sighed. “Willow, I think these kids are really shaken. We should do something.”

                Willow nodded. “Yeah. Any ideas?”

                “Maybe… Maybe would could have a discussion about what’s been going on?” Tara asked. “Try and make them feel a little better?”

                Willow smirked. “Yeah… that’s not a bad idea.”

                Tara sat in front of the class and sighed. Willow hopped up to sit on the desk.

                “Due to recent events,” Tara started. “Willow and I have decided not to have a normal class today. We thought that maybe you guys’d want to talk about what’s been going on.”

                “Would anyone like to start?” Willow asked.

                Draco Malfoy raised his hand.

                “Yes, Draco?” Tara asked.

                “How did vampires get into the school?” he asked.

                His voice wasn’t mean, or snappy. He was seriously curious. Ever since she’d met him, Tara had thought that there was something good about the boy. Unlike Faith, Buffy and Angel, she tried to be as kind as possible to him, and Willow had followed suit. The two witches felt that by showing the Slytherins some decency, they could make a difference in their attitudes. Not just coddle them as Snape had, or scold them as Faith, Buffy and Angel seemed so set on doing.

                “We’re still working on that,” Willow replied. “When we know, you will, too.”

                Malfoy nodded.

                Ron raised his hand.

                “Ron?” Willow said.

                “Where do you think they’re hiding?” He asked.

                Tara sighed. “We suspect in the tunnels underneath school. We‘re still looking into that, too.”

                Tara grimaced. She wished she had more answers for them.

               

                “I suppose, since we’ve just finished our own unit on vampires, we should get into vampire slayers.”

                Professor Giles looked over his class, and noticed that all of them were paying close attention. He smiled. “Since the beginning of time, demons have roamed the earth, and when humans came along, things became quite… well complicated…”

 

 

Ladies and Gentleman, the Fighting Styles of Draco Malfoy…

                The great hall was packed, and almost completely silent.

                Ron, Hermione and Harry sat together at the Gryffindor table as usual.

                When Malfoy walked by, they began to snicker.

                “Wonder if he even knows what masturbation is,” Ron muttered to his friends.

                Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

                “Ron! That’s gross!” Hermione cried. “We’re eating!”

                Draco turned bright red and gritted his teeth.

                “I just wonder,” Ron went on. “Think about it. If he doesn’t know what sex is all about-”

                Malfoy lunged across the table at Ron, knocking him to the floor.

                “BLOODY HELL!” Ron cried.

                Malfoy flung a fist that Ron dodged easily. “Bastard!” he yelled. “Kill you!”

                “Malfoy, stop,” Ron said. “You’re embarrassing yourself!”  He got to his feet, dragging Malfoy with him.

                Malfoy struggled and swatted at Ron, who held the blond away from him. “Fight like a man!”

                “Oh, shut it, Malfoy,” Harry said. “You fight like a Muggle girl.”

                Next to Harry, Hermione was laughing so hard, tears began streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, god. Oh, hell. This is ridiculously funny. Stop!”

                “Don’t stop!” Seamus cried. “This is the best floor show we’ve had in a while! Slug ‘im, Ron!”

                Dean yelled in agreement. “Give it to ‘im good for the lot of us!”

                At that moment, Crabbe and Goyle rushed over, but were pushed away by a few teachers beginning to circle.

                “What’s going on down here?”

                The group turned to see Professor Morgan, Professor Snape, Professor MacGonagall, and Professor Maclay.

                Snape glared. ”Weasley.”

                “What happened, Ron?” Faith Morgan asked, crossing her arms.

                “He started it,” Ron replied, still trying to hold Malfoy away from him. “He tried to kill me.”

                “I highly doubt that, Weasley,” Snape snapped. “Malfoy?”

                “He-”

                Tara gave a sad look to Draco. “Please tell the truth, Draco?”

                Malfoy paused, and then sighed. “I hit first.”

                Snape gave a glare to Tara.

                “Malfoy, Weasley, come with me,” Professor MacGonagall said.

                Ron left amidst cheers from his table, as well as others. He gave a bow before being pulled by the arm out of the great hall.

                “Wait!” Dumbledore cried. He clinked his spoon against his glass, and MacGonagall led the two boys back in.

                Dumbledore sighed. “I need your close attention. This is very important. Due to recent events, it has been decided to evacuate all students from Hogwarts until our special vampyric guests are apprehended. Each house will be sent to a different school. Slytherins will be sent to Durmstrang in Germany, Ravenclaws will be sent to Beauxbatons in France, Hufflepuffs will go to Americus in Canada, and Gryffindors to Plenard in the US. You have three days to pack your essentials. Parents have already been owled.”

                The great hall burst into noise, as the students were obviously shocked.

                Ron grinned. “Huh. An unknown amount of time away from Slytherins. What a godsend!”

                “Believe me, Weasley, the feeling is mutual,” Draco snarled.

                “Come along, you two,” MacGonagall said, leading them out.

 

                “Since you need your three days to pack, your detentions will be served right now,” MacGonagall told them. “You will both be helping the house elves in the kitchen. Washing dishes. The Muggle way.”

                Ron sighed in defeat, and Malfoy’s jaw dropped, almost to the floor.

                “And you’ll be working side by side,” their teacher went on. “So, I suggest you two make the best of it.”

                The two boys glared at each other.

 

                Hermione sat in the forbidden section of the library with her uncle Wesley, and Professors O’Brien, Rosenberg Maclay,  and Giles, with Professor Morgan and Summers pacing near them.

                “I don’t sense them here anymore,” Professor Summers said. “I don’t think they’re in the school anymore.”

                “They got bored,” Professor O’Brien commented. “They move a lot. They don’t stay in one place because of Dru’s need for new scenery and Spike’s short attention span.”

                “They wouldn’t go that far,” Giles commented. “They still want to annoy us.”

                “Nearest town?” Professor Rosenberg asked.

                “Hogsmeade,” Hermione replied. “Older students spend weekends there.”

                Professor O’Brien nodded. “Right. Let’s go.”

                Hermione got up with the rest of the adults.

                “Not you,” Her uncle replied. “You’re not supposed to be up. Come on. I’ll take you up to the tower.” He turned to the others. “I’ll meet up with you.”

                Wesley led Hermione out of the library and through the halls, only to bump right into Severus Snape.

                “Wesley.”

                “Severus.”

                “Caught a student out of bed?” Snape asked.

                Wesley sighed. “Actually, we were going over a few things in the library. I’m escorting her to her dorm.”

                “A few things?”

                “If you must know,” Wesley said, gritting his teeth slightly, “We may have the vampires cornered at Hogsmeade.”

                Snape gave a crooked grin. “Ah. I see. Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind my tagging along, then?”

                “I… I suppose not,” Wesley replied. “Wait for me in the front hall.”

                Ron didn’t make his way into Gryffindor tower until midnight. When he opened the door, he found Harry sitting up in his four-poster, surrounded by parchment, scribbling furiously away with a quill.

                “How was detention?” Harry asked.

                Ron sighed. “Tiring. Draco kept throwing left-over food at me. So I whacked him over the head with a plate. What are you doing?” Ron asked, flopping onto his own bed, pulling off his shoes.

                “Writing to Snuffles.”

                Ron sat up and raised an eyebrow. “All that is for Snuffles?”

                “It’s not going to be easy to owl him in America, is it?” Harry muttered. He sighed. “He better not do anything stupid while we’re away.”

                Ron smirked. “What do you think about this whole going to America thing, anyways?”

                Harry shrugged. “Could be interesting. Never been out of England before.”

                “I’ve only been to Egypt,” Ron replied.

                Harry snorted with a smirked. “Only Egypt.”

                Ron snickered. “Sorry.”

                At that moment Hermione burst through the door. “Good news!” she cried.

                Both Harry and Ron jumped.

                “Christ, Hermione!” Ron cried. “Knock first!”

                She flinched. “Sorry,” she said quietly.

                “What’s up?” Harry asked, still writing.

                “The professors might have a lead on the vampires,” she informed them. “We may not have to go to America.”

                “That’s kind of anticlimactic, isn’t it?” Ron commented.

                “They found out that they’ve been spotted in Hogsmeade.”

                Harry looked up, a bit panicked. “Hogsmeade? As in… Hogsmeade, Hogsmeade?”
                Hermione gave him an annoyed look. “What other Hogsmeade would I be talking about?”

                Harry paled. “The Hogsmeade where my letters go, Hogsmeade?”

                Ron caught his drift. “Uh-oh…”

                Hermione’s eyes widened. “Snape’s going with…

                “If he finds Snuffles…” Ron added.

                “Dumbledore made them shake!” Hermione cried.

                “Do you honestly think that means anything to him?” Ron asked.

                Harry reached under his mattress and pulled out an old rolled up piece of parchment. The Marauder’s Map. “ Ron’s right. Let’s get going.” 

 

 

Fiends and Bunnies…

                The trio made their way through the Hogwarts tunnels under the invisibility cloak, Harry with the Marauder’s map in hand. They snuck into Honeydukes’ basement and out the front door into a clear Hogsmeade night, but bumped into a bleach blond.

                “I smell boy,” Drusilla purred. “Oh… and pretty girl, too.”

                “Again?” Spike asked. “These brats’re everywhere! I love Hogwarts!” He reached for them, and grabbed Hermione’s arm, pulling her out from under the invisibility cloak. She screamed.

                “Pretty girl,” Drusilla whispered. “Just out of thin air. Where are your brothers, pretty girl?”

                Spike smiled. “I smell ‘em. Must be around here somewhere.”

                Drusilla inhaled deeply. “Watcher.”

                Spike raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, Ducks.” He turned his attention back to Hermione. “How do you feel about my drinking your blood?”

                Hermione glared. “No blood-sucking fiend is sucking my blood,” she snapped.

                “Sat right?” Spike asked. He was about to bite her when he was rammed from behind with an invisible force. He cried out and lost his gripped on Hermione. She fell to the stone sidewalk and was promptly grabbed by the arm, and dragged underneath the invisibility cloak.

                She gave silent look of relief, as they watched Spike turn around in a circle.

                “Come on, kids,” Spike said. “Come out for a midnight snack. Won’t take long.”

                He was promptly kneed in the groin from behind. “What did you have in mind?”

                Spike fell to the ground and looked up into the face of Professor Summers.

                “Hey, baby,” He leered. “Wondered when I would see you again.”

                He was grabbed by the collar and dragged to his feet. He came face to face with Professor O’Brien. “Peaches! Isn’t this a party?”

                Drusilla grabbed O’Brien’s free arm and bit it. He hollered in pain, and dropped Spike.

                “What is this?” Professor Morgan asked, coming out of the shadows. “Cheep shot night in Hogsmeade?” She lifted Spike up again, and slugged him in the face. “Why can’t we all just get along?” 

                O’Brien had Drusilla in a full nelson, while Morgan had Spike by the arm.

                “Ready?” Professor Rosenberg asked Professor Maclay.

                “Oh, yes.”

                They took out their wands and cast spells on both Spike and Drusilla. There was a flash of light, and when it dimmed down, there were two black bunnies sitting where the two professors and two vampires were.

                 Buffy looked around. “What in the-”

                She spotted Spike and Drusilla walking off.

                “Bye-bye, Slayer,” Spike called. “See you around.”

                Professor Summers fumed. “DAMN!”

                “You can turn them back, can’t you?” Wesley asked, motioning toward the bunnies.

                “Uhm… w-we’d better take them to P-Professor MacGonagall,” Maclay suggested.

                Giles said. “Yes, alright. Never thought I’d see Angel or Faith as little fluffy bunnies, but… you never know at Hogwarts, I suppose.”

                “Hey,” Summers said. “Where’s Snape?”

                Under the invisibility cloak, the three children panicked.

                “I don’t know,” Wesley said. “I lost him near… the cave… bloody hell! Sirius!” He began to run, and the trio followed him, along with Professor Summers.

                “Get back to Hogwarts!” she yelled. “Get Dumbledore!”

                As soon as Sirius Black heard footsteps, he shifted into his animal form, a large black dog.

                Severus smirked crookedly. “So this is where you’re hiding out.”

                The dog glared.

                “All I’d have to do is put a sleeping spell on you, and then I could turn you into the ministry,” Snape told him. “Fudge’d have you back in Azkaban before you could say Whomping Willow. And I’d be… well, a hero.”

                Black snarled, and slowly backed away.

                “A handshake may be a handshake, but that’s all it is,” Snape said. “Nothing more. I have not yet gotten my revenge for your humiliation, Sirius, but I will have it. Tonight.”

                “Take one more step toward that dog, and you get an arrow to the back. I swear. Don’t move.”

                “Ah. Professor Summers. How good of you to come. I’m just about to apprehend this murderer.”

                “I know the whole story, Snape,” Summers replied. “The real story. You lay one finger on that dog, and I’ll shoot. And you don’t want me to do that, because I’m good. Really good.”

                “Severus, you gave your word to Dumbledore,” Wesley said. “Don’t do this. He’ll hate you, and you know why.”

                Ron, Harry and Hermione listened to this exchange with interest. They had no idea why.

                Severus turned to the two professors and sighed. “Fine. Mark my word, Black, one of these days…”

                Black shifted back to human form. “Get stuffed, Snape.”

                Snape had the urge to lunge for him, but kept his composure and swiftly left the cave.

                Wesley sighed. “Sirius, sometimes you’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?”

                “Yes.”

                Wesley rolled his eyes. “Keep in touch. And if you meet a bleach blond and a crazy-looking girl, bite them both in the arse for me.”

                Sirius looked confused, but nodded. “Okay.”

                “Hi,” Buffy waved. “I’m… never mind. I’m going back.” She left, dragging Snape with her as she passed the entrance to the cave.

                Wesley sighed. “I should, too. Take care.”

                Sirius nodded again. “You, too. Don’t suppose you’d plant a dung bomb on ol’ Severus for me?”

                “I won’t, but I know a few teachers and students who might,” Wesley smirked. He walked out.

                When he was gone, Sirius sighed. “I know you’re here.”

                The invisibility cloak came off, and Harry, Ron and Hermione appeared.

                “I hate Snape,” Ron grumbled.

                Sirius smirked. “Well. I’ve got something on him that will keep him off my back for a good long while.”

                “What’s that?” Hermione asked.

                “Dumbledore.”

                “What’s he got to do with anything?” Harry asked.

                “Let’s just say… Well, never mind,” Sirius shook his head.

                Harry handed him a bag of food. “Brought this just in case.”

                Sirius nodded. “Thanks. Getting sick of just bones.”

 

                “It worked.”

                “But… not on… y’know the actual targets.”

                Minerva MacGonagall sighed. “Who are these then?” She asked, waving at the bunnies.

                “Professors Morgan and O’Brien.”

                “We had an oopsy,” Willow explained.

                “I… see… Why can’t you fix it?”

                “Cause we’re kinda bumbling in terms of animagic,” Tara replied. “Help?”

                MacGonagall waved a hand at the bunnies, and they turned into humans.

                Faith glared at the witches. “Red, if you ever do that again, you’ll be really, really sorry.”

                Angel sighed. “I hate fur.”

 

 

The New Girls on the Block…

                In the great hall the next morning, Professor Dumbledore announced the cancellation of the house splits, and everything went back to normal.

                Well, almost.

                “However, last night, Parvoti Patil and Lavender Brown did make it to Plenard in America,” Dumbledore went on. “And, as I said at the opening feast, we have two of our own exchange students who should be arriving today. I expect all of you to show the utmost courtesy to our guests, as they will be with us the rest of the year, staying in Gryffindor house.”

                At that moment, a tall, thin girl with pale skin in her fifth year, with black, shoulder-length hair, and blue eyes which were covered in dark make-up,  walked in. Her baggy black jeans hitting the floor, her black peasant top sleeves reaching the tips of her fingers. 

                The room went silent.

                She looked around. “What?”

                “Minerva?” Dumbledore whispered. “I thought you gave her a uniform?”

                “I did,” MacGonagall replied. “I suspect she lit it on fire.”

                The girl looked at the astonished masses, shrugged nonchalantly and walked out.

                “Was that a girl?” Malfoy whispered to his friends. “Or a dementor?”

                The door opened again, and this time a shorter, more normal-looking girl walked in. Her hair was straight and blond, her eyes were brown, and she wore only the top half of the Gryffindor uniform, instead of a Hogwarts skirt, she wore ripped blue jeans. She looked around quietly, and then, like the girl before her, walked out.

                Ron, Hermione and Harry stared at each other, completely baffled.

                “Americans are weird,” Ron commented.

                Hermione glanced at the ridiculous amount of food on his plate. “Not as weird as you.”

                “I’m a growing boy!”

                “You don’t need to grow!” Hermione cried. “You’re like the Jolly Green Giant!”

                “Hey!” Ron cried. “No fair using Muggle references on me!”

                Hermione giggled. “It means you’re ridiculously tall.”

                “Yeah, and what’re you gonna do about it?” he said, almost leeringly.

                She began tickling his sides, and he yelled out in surprise.

                Harry shook his head, baffled by the random exchange. “You’re both insane.”

                Ron’s brothers, Fred and George weren’t baffled. They saw this as a choice opportunity.

                “Has ickle Ronniekins got himself a girlfriend?” Fred teased.

                “Ain’t they cute?” George laughed.

                Hermione turned bright red, and got up. “I’ll be in the library.”

 

                “As I’m certain you all have noticed, we have two new students,” Wesley said with a smirk. “Torianna Lupin, and Evelyn Black.”

                In Magical History class, Harry’s eyes went wide, as he looked back at the two girls. Torianna was flipping through her history book and Evelyn was trying to light it on fire.

                “I expect everyone to treat them kindly, as this is their first day,” Wesley said.

                “How come our new student looks like a Dementor?” Malfoy asked innocently.

                “Hey, Malibu Barbie,” Evelyn called starting her lighter. “That hair flammable?”

                Malfoy’s eyes widened and he sunk into his seat.

                Wesley sighed. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

                Ron turned to Hermione, a bit perplexed. “What’s a Malibu Barbie?”

 

                “Black?! Lupin?!”

                Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry. “With everything that’s happened, I decided to request their presence here.”

                Harry shook his head and sat down. Fawkes immediately sat on his lap. “I didn’t even know they had wives.”

                Dumbledore sighed. “Sirius’ wife was killed, Remus’ wife was put in a comatamous spell, and has yet to come out of it. Seeing that Black was sent to Azkaban, it was left up to me to send Evelyn to her mother’s sister in DC.”

                “And Torianna?”

                “Her father was a werewolf,” Dumbledore replied. “The Ministry would not let Remus raise her alone. Torianna was sent to New York to live with her mother’s cousin.”

                “That’s not fair,” Harry muttered. “Poor Remus.”

                Dumbledore sighed. “She’s older, we now have the wolvesbane potion, and Remus has been granted custody of her once again.”

                “Does Evelyn know about Sirius?” Harry asked.

                “All Evelyn knows is that her father is an escaped convict who was a soldier for Voldemort. And… she knows that he can change into a dog.”

                Harry rolled his eyes. “How come no one’s told her the truth?”

                “I want her to get settled first,” Dumbledore explained. “Be comfortable where she is, before I turn her world upside down any further.”

                Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Why is she so… weird?”

                “Where she comes from, she is not weird,” Dumbledore smiled. “American Witches and Wizards are very integrated into society. They have Muggle technology, along with movies, music and television. The magical community is not large enough to have a whole society to themselves, and they pride themselves on their lack of prejudice in terms of Muggles and Wizards. I would… appreciate it if you would help them to become accustomed to things here, Harry. It’s going to take a lot of time.”

                “How come they didn’t have to try on the sorting hat?”

                Dumbledore chuckled. “Lupin? Black? Where else would they belong?”

 

                Evelyn bounded around the Gryffindor common room. “Where the hell is the phone?” she cried.

                Harry held Hedwig out to her, and she gave him a skeptical look. “What the hell do I do with that?”

                “Her,” Harry corrected with a grin. “And you write a letter, attach it to her feet, and send her off to whoever the letter needs to get to.”

                Evelyn blinked. “Write? Don’t tell me you don’t have any computers?”

                Harry shrugged. “Don’t need them.”

                Evelyn sighed. “Man, are you British people weird.”

                “And you Americans are so normal?” Harry asked. “Can’t understand half the things Torianna says.”

                “That’s because she’s from Brooklyn,” Evelyn replied in her best fake accent. “If you’re not from Brooklyn, you’re not gonna understand anything she says.”

                “What about you?” Harry asked.

                “I’ve roomed with her for four years. You get used to it.”

                Harry smirked. “Who do you need to write to?”

                “My aunt,” Evelyn replied. “No email, no telephone, how long do these owls take?”

                Harry shrugged. “Depends on how far.”

                “Damn… oh well.”

                Torianna rushed through the portrait, soaking wet.

                “Tori? What happened?” Evelyn asked.

                “Some kinda water spell,” She replied. “I’ll be back. I’m getting my baseball bat.”

                Harry sighed, and walked out of the portrait, to find Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe standing there.

                “Thought so,” Harry muttered.

                “Hello, Potty. Come to get wet, too?” Malfoy asked.

                Harry rolled his eyes, whispered the password, and walked back through the portal. As soon as he went in, Torianna appeared. “Okay, Malfoy. Hardball time.” She lifted her baseball bat, and swung, just missing him.

                Malfoy panicked, and ran, followed by Goyle and Crabbe.

                “First inning, Lupin 1, Malfoy 0.”

                “Ms. Lupin!”

                Torianna turned to see Snape standing there looking quite upset. “Heya, Teach.”

                “What is that?”

                “Baseball bat.”

                “What in the world is baseball?”

                She blinked, said the password, and walked back into the Gryffindor common room.

                Snape scowled. “Next time, Lupin. Next time.”

 

                Torianna sat on the couch whistling the Inspector Gadget theme.

                “What did you do?” Evelyn asked.

                “Swing and a miss.” She smirked. “Next inning, he’s outta the ballpark.”

                “God, those baseball references are lame,” Evelyn muttered. “Be a real person.”

                “You first, Mistress of the Night. Why don‘t you get some people skills?”

                “I’m not the one swinging bats at people!”

                “At least I don’t try and set people on fire!”

                “Yer Mom tries to set people on fire!” Evelyn cried. “And besides, that was no person, that was Malfoy.”

                Torianna smirked. “Yeah, okay. True.”

                “I win.”

                “Nuh-uh.”

                “Yeah, I win. What now, bitch?”

                “Ladies!”

                They turned to see Professor MacGonagall standing there staring harshly at them.

                “Scuse my French,” Evelyn said.

                “My bad,” Torianna giggled. “No more cursing. We promise.”

                Their teacher sighed and left the room.

                At that moment, a small barn owl flew through the window and landed in front of Torianna.

                “What do you want?” She asked.

                The owl hooted.

                “What?! This ain’t no Alfred Hitchcock movie, y‘know, beat it!”

                It hooted again.

                “Evelyn, I’m scared.”

                Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Harry said they’re message birds.” She pointed to the foot. “See?”

                “Oh,” Torianna replied. “I ain’t never seen an owl before… Kinda intimidating.”

                Evelyn groaned and took the message off the foot, and tossed it to Torianna, who opened it. “Dear Tori, hope you’re having a great time, this owl is for you to use while you’re there, keep in touch - Dad.”

                “Oh. Cool. Dad. Okay… wonder if it has a name…”

                “How about… Scary Owl,” Evelyn teased.

                “Shut up!” Torianna cried. “I dunno… how about… Bunsen?”

                “Your owl,” Evelyn shrugged. “But I’ll be mooching off of you a lot, just so you know.”

 

 

Hogsmeade Again…

                “Welcome to Hogsmeade,” Ron announced as they walked into the small town that weekend.

                Evelyn squinted and put a huge black pair of shades over her eyes. She was covered from neck to foot in black, except the tips of her fingers, which stuck out of ripped leather gloves. Her shirt was long-sleeved under a large black leather jacket, and her pants were baggy as usual.

                This clashed heavily with her four friends.

                Ron wore one of his many maroon sweaters under an old-looking black coat, with kaki pants and nice shoes. Harry’s sweater was blue under a matching coat, and his pants gray. Both Hermione and Torianna wore blue jeans. Torianna wore a Yankees t-shirt under her own black leather jacket. Hermione wore a long purple sweater under a white coat.

                Ron led the way into Zonko’s Joke shop, where Ron’s brothers, Fred and George already were.

                “Hello, Ronnie!” one of them cried, holding up a suspicious-looking pastry. “Want a cream puff?”

                “In your dreams,” Ron replied.

                Torianna picked up a strange-looking object. “What the hell is ‘is?”

                “Dung bomb,” Harry informed her. “I wouldn’t touch it if I was you. They smell horrid.”

                Torianna shrugged and set it down.

                Evelyn looked around squinting as she took her sunglasses off. Her glance passed by the window, and spotted a large black dog. She blinked, and it was gone.

                “The hell…”

                “Something wrong, Evelyn?” Hermione asked, inspecting a whoopee cushion.

                “No,” Evelyn replied quickly. “Nothing. What else is around here, anyways?”

                “Well,” Hermione said with a smile. “There’s Honeydukes candy store, and the three broomsticks, if you’d like to get some butterbeer.”

                “Sounds good,” Evelyn said, uncharacteristically cheerful. “Let’s go.”

                Ron and Harry glanced at each other warily and followed the three girls out.

 

                They made their way to the Three Broomsticks to find Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore sitting together.

                “Ah!” Dumbledore smiled. “Good afternoon! I assume you’ve been giving the girls a nice tour of Hogsmeade?”

                Hermione smiled and nodded. “Oh, yes. We’ve shown them a lot.”

                “Good,” Dumbledore said. “Evelyn, I presume that you haven’t been giving anyone or anything a hard time?”

                “Yes, sir,” Evelyn replied, distractedly staring out the window. She’d spotted the black dog again.

                “Is something wrong, Lass?” Hagrid asked.

                “Nah,” Evelyn replied. “Just not used to this much sun. I burn really fast.”

                “I’ll bet, seeing as how you look like a dementor.”

                Evelyn glared at the sound of a new voice.
                “Don’t you have anything better to do, Malfoy?” Ron asked.  “Like get shagged? Oh, wait, I forgot. You just don’t know what that means.”

                “What does shagged mean?” Torianna asked Hermione.

                Hermione turned slightly red. “Well… it means-”

                “Getting laid,” Evelyn replied.

                “Oh,” Torianna nodded. She began to snicker. “He doesn’t know about sex?”

                “Not until last week,” Ron replied.

                “No wonder he’s so grouchy!” Evelyn snickered. “Malfoy, you are a sad, sad, little boy.”

                Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I think that’s quite enough, children.”

                “Yeah, the Professor’s right,” Harry snickered. “We wouldn’t want Malfoy to grace us with his stellar fighting abilities again.”

                “That bad?” Torianna asked.

                “Worse,” Ron laughed.  

                “Dammit Malfoy!” Evelyn cried. “Why do you think you’re such bad-ass evil?! You’re not! To quote a famous movie, you are the diet coke of evil! You’d wet yourself if you saw real evil!”

                Malfoy looked confused. “What’s diet coke?” he asked.

                Evelyn growled and sat down at a table. She glanced toward the window again, and the dog was sitting there, seemingly grinning proudly at her. Evelyn shook her head out, and ordered a butterbeer.

                Harry pulled Ron and Hermione aside when Torianna began ripping into Malfoy with harsh cut downs.

                “What is wrong with Evelyn?” Ron asked. “She been acting weird all day.”

                “Ron, haven’t you noticed that Snuffles has been following all day?”

                Ron blinked. “Oh. Really?”

                Hermione rolled her eyes.

                “Listen, she still thinks Sirius was the traitor, and that he killed Petigrew and everything. Dumbledore wants to be the one to tell her the truth, so play dumb.”

                “Hear that, Hermione?” Ron asked jokingly. “Dumb.”

                She gave a smug smirk, and hit him playfully. “Shut up, Ron.”

                Harry shook his head in confusion. “What is wrong with you two lately?”

                At that moment, Professor O’Brien and Professor Summers walked in, arm-in-arm, laughing quietly together.

                “What is with everybody, lately?!” Harry cried. With that, he stomped over and sat across from Evelyn in a booth, and turned around to follow her gaze out the window. He gave a smirk to the dog outside, who smirked back, then turned to Evelyn, who was glaring him.

                “You know anything about that dog?” she asked him.

                “What dog?”

                The dark-haired girl groaned and slammed her forehead down on the table in front of her.

                Meanwhile, Torianna swung a fist out at Malfoy, who only just dodged it, which was when Professor O’Brien stepped in, and sat Torianna down.

                Harry sighed. “The whole world’s gone mad.”

 

                Professor Wesley Wyndham-Pryce sat near the front of the Three Broomsticks, telling stories to his students and fellow teachers. Even Rosmerta listened intently from her spot behind the bar.

                “Fifth year was probably our most interesting,” Wesley told his audience. “It was the year James and Lily, Remus and Sarah and Sirius and Emily got together, though, of course, James and Lily were the first.”

                Harry smiled. He loved hearing stories about his parents and their time at Hogwarts. While the stories of Sirius Black’s childhood made many people uncomfortable, Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, loved hearing about Sirius and Harry’s father’s reign as the prank kings of Hogwarts.

                “Though, this managed to cause a bit of a stir,” Wesley informed them. “You see, even though he normally hated Muggle-born students, Lucius Malfoy had developed quite a thing for Miss Lily Evans.”

                Gryfindors snickered. Slytherins rolled their eyes. Draco Malfoy just turned red.

                “One day, between classes,” Wesley said. “Lucius stopped her in the halls, and things… well, they got out of hand, you see. Malfoy became angry, and a bit violent. He would have given Lily her first black eye if Sirius Black hadn’t been walking by. Sirius, as you know, was James Potter’s best friend in the world, along with Remus Lupin. And they all had always been fond of Lily. Sirius had stepped right in front of Lily and caught Lucius’ fist in his own hand.”

                Dumbledore chuckled. “I remember that incident, actually.”

                Wesley smiled. “Sirius Black was a large young man. He was very much in shape, tall, and quite strong. He glared at Lucius and said ’If you ever swing a fist at any girl ever again, I’m going to tear it off and eat it like a large medieval turkey leg.”

                The room burst into giggles.

                Harry leaned over to Ron and Hermione. “Remind me to ask Snuffles about that.”

                Ron smirked.

                “Fifth year was also the year that Sirius Black began to play with fire,” Wesley went on. “Somehow, he’d gotten his hands on a Muggle lighter… actually, I believe it’s the exact same lighter that Evelyn carries with her… “

                Evelyn fiddled with her lighter, and then set it down on the table.

                “Anyways, Sirius got himself banned from the Library for the rest of the year, because while most of us were doing our homework, he’d already finished, and was playing with his lighter. Well, Professor MacGonagall walked by-”

                “Professor Wyndham-Pryce,” Professor MacGonagall cut in. “Please.”

                Wesley smirked. “She walked by, and Sirius accidentally lit her flowing robes on fire.”

                The students tried to hold back their laughter.

                “Well, all Black could do was sit there and laugh at his complete misfortune, and Professor MacGonagall did what she always did. Grabbed young Sirius Black by the ear, and dragged him all the way to her office. Her robes still flaming.”

                Dumbledore couldn’t help. He chuckled, earning him a glare from MacGonagall.

                “Not only was Sirius playing with fire, literally, but figuratively as well,” Wesley went on. “Fire as in fiery Miss Emily Dumbledore, the headmaster’s daughter.”

                The trio gave each shocked looks.

                Wesley laughed to himself. “Before he met Emily, Sirius Black flirted with anything that moved. Isn’t that right, Rosmerta?”

                Rosmerta grumbled. “Little scoundrel, he was, back them.”

                “He was probably the biggest flirt Hogwarts had ever seen,” Wesley said. “And then he fell for Emily, and that was it. To him, no one compared to her.”

                “Wesley,” Dumbledore called. “It’s getting quite late. I believe you should wrap things up.”

                Wesley nodded. “Alright, then. Another time. Everyone to your rooms.” 

 

Oh, Those Crazy Hogsmeade Nights…

                Evelyn had gone for a late walk, and had realized from the beginning that she was being followed.

                And she knew it was the large, black dog that had been following her all day.

                “Look, the Dementor’s on patrol.”

                Evelyn sighed. “Go away, Draco.” She turned to stare at him.

                His hair shone brightly in the half-moonlight. His eyes glistened mischievously. His hands sat on his hips.

                All of the sudden, it didn’t matter so much that he was an asshole.

                And that gave her an idea.

                Evelyn smirked and strode slowly and purposefully toward him. “Looking to get me in trouble, Blondie?”

                “M-Maybe,” he replied, taking a step back.

                She advanced the step forward that he’d taken back, and ran a finger down his cheek and neck, until it landed on his top shirt button, which she began to play with. “Do you really wanna get me in trouble?” she asked, getting closer. “Because, y’know… there are… other ways.”

                She undid the button she’d been playing with, and then walked into the inn.

                Malfoy was left to stand on the Hogsmeade sidewalk, red-faced. He rushed in, went directly to his room and locked himself in.

                                 

                When Malfoy passed the shadows Evelyn had been hiding in, she slipped out the front door, back into the night with a sigh. “The things I do for answers… Thank god I always wear black.”

                Before she could go looking for the dog again, she heard two familiar voices.

                “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

                “I know that, but… well… How else will this work?”

                Evelyn slipped back into the shadows as Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger passed by hurriedly.

                “Ron, wait… we should tell him,” Hermione said. “Harry deserves to know. He’s our best friend.”

                Ron sighed. “I don’t wanna deal with being a public couple. Don’t tell me you don’t get off on sneaking around.” He got closer to her and kissed her forehead.

                “Ron,” she groaned with a smile. She playfully pushed him away. “Come on, we’d better go in.”

                “Not just yet.”

                Someone else stepped out of the shadows and stood before them.

                “Professor Summers!” Hermione cried. “We were just… we just-”

                “Are really busted,” Summers replied.

                “What about you?” Ron asked. “Why are you out here now?”

                Summers faltered. “Well… I… um… that is to say-”

                “That we were doing exactly what you were.”

                Out of the shadows, right near Evelyn stepped Professor O’Brien.

                Professor Summers sighed. “Angel…”

                “We’ve been sneaking around together,” O’Brien explained. “So here’s the deal. If you guys go up to your rooms right now, we won’t tell anyone you were out here. And you won’t tell anyone that you saw us together.”

                Hermione considered. “That sounds fair.”

                “Good.”

                Ron looked skeptical. “You won’t tell anyone?”

                Summers smiled. “Not anyone.”

                The two teens nodded, and walked into the inn.

                After they’d gone, Buffy sighed. “Alright,” she said. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

                Angel nodded and smiled. “I’ll be up in a while.”

                He kissed her before she left.

                Evelyn panicked as Professor O’Brien advanced toward her spot in the darkness.

                “Angel?”

                He turned around to see Professor Wyndham-Pryce walking out of the inn, carrying a large sack.

                “Wesley,” Angel greeted. “Going to give the weekend amount?”

                Wesley nodded. “Just doing my part.”

                “Want company?”

                Wesley smirked. “Sure.”

                Evelyn followed her two professors just outside of town, up a mountain, just outside a cave. Angel and Wesley stopped dead in their tracks. A moment later, the former stormed in, Wesley close behind him. Evelyn followed just up to the point where she had a clear view inside.

                A business woman with brown hair stood before an unshaven, dirty, ragged man.

                “Sirius, what’s she doing here?” Wesley asked harshly.

                “Don’t look at me,” Sirius replied, stretching his long, bony arms. “I was sleeping when she walked in. Woke me up.” he eyed the bag Wesley carried. “That dinner?”

                Wesley smiled and tossed the bag to him.

                “So… Lilah,” Angel said slowly. “Miss me?”

                The woman named Lilah glared. “Actually, I came to speak with Mr. Black if you don’t mind.”

                “He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Wesley snapped.

                Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I can speak for myself.”

                The trio turned to look at him. He got to his feet, and looked Lilah up and down.

                “No. He’s right. I don’t want to talk to you.” Sirius sighed. “Who are you, anyway?”

                “Lilah Morgan, attorney. I work for Wolfram and Hart in LA.”

                Sirius rolled his eyes. “An American Lawyer,” he muttered. “Get out.”

                “Mr. Black, please hear me out,” Lilah snapped. “I’m here to offer you a deal. You work for us, and you can have your freedom back!”

                He stared at her, obviously unimpressed.

                “If you do work for us here, we’ll make sure your name is cleared of all that you’ve done!”

                Sirius’ lips twisted into a harsh smile. “Ms. Morgan,” he said. “Let’s get a few things straight, shall we? 1. I really don’t like lawyers. Sans Wes over there.”

                Lilah gave Wesley a questioning look. He just shrugged.

                “2. I wasn’t a death eater. And I didn’t kill anyone. 3. Sod off. Thanks for stopping by, Wesley. I’m gonna go.”

                “But you live here,” Lilah reminded him.

                Sirius didn’t reply. He shifted into his dog form and walked out.

                Only to be met with a gaze that was uncannily like his own.

                The girl had long black hair and big blue eyes. She got to her feet, showing him that she was quite tall.

                He backed away, realizing who she was. She advanced toward him silently, and he ran.

                Evelyn Black growled and ran after him. “DAMMIT! GET BACK HERE!”

                Her yelling brought Angel, Wesley and Lilah running.

                Wesley caught sight of Evelyn chasing a large, black dog, and sighed. “Bloody hell.”

                “Should we go after them?” Angel asked.

                “No,” Wesley replied.  “It’ll draw too much attention. Come on. Let’s get back to the inn. We’ll be missed.”

                “What about Evelyn?”

                “She followed us,” Wesley shrugged. “Whatever happen, happens. Padfoot’ll have her back safely.”

                Angel shook his head.

                “You coming Angel?”

                “In a bit.”

 

                She finally caught up to him and tackled him from behind. He turned from canine to human, and she jumped off him towards the nearest wall. Breathing heavily from the running.

                Sirius got to his feet and looked upon the teen.

                They stood in silence for a moment, until Evelyn got angry.

                “What in the hell?! How the hell?! What the hell?! You’re just staring at me! Why don’t you just kill me like you did to Mom, and those others… what, the Pots?”

                “Potters,” Sirius replied softly. He averted his eyes from her in shame.

                Evelyn blinked. “You killed Harry’s parents?”

                Sirius sighed. “Are you going to let me explain, or are you going to rant for the rest of the night. And, by the way, you’re not even supposed to be out now. You could get into trouble.”

                “Now, why on earth would Sirius Black care at all about getting into trouble?”

                Father and daughter turned at the same time to find Albus Dumbledore walking up to them in his pajamas.

                “Good,” Evelyn said. “Arrest him.”

                Sirius rolled his eyes in exasperation. “She’s not letting me speak.”

                “Of course not, Sirius,” Dumbledore replied. “She’s been told all of her life that you’re a murderer. Would you let you speak?”

                Sirius sighed and stood down.

                “Yeah, you like that?” Evelyn said defiantly. “What now?”

                “But,” Dumbledore cut in. “She will listen to me. Won’t you, Evelyn?”

                Evelyn shrugged. “Okay.”

                “Your father did not murder your mother, the Potters or anyone else for that matter,” Dumbledore explained.

                “Okay, so who did?”  Evelyn snapped.

                “A man by the name of Peter Petigrew,” Sirius replied.

                Evelyn whirled around to glare at her father. “Hey. Didn’t I say I wasn’t speaking to you?”

                Sirius threw his arms to his sides and sighed in frustration.

                “It was, as your father said, a man by the name Peter Petigrew,” Dumbledore continued. “Your father was originally the Potters’ secret-keeper while they were in hiding. Sirius, fearing they’d come for him first and get it out of him, convinced them to switch to Peter, not knowing that he was a Deatheater.”

                Evelyn let his words sit for awhile. “So… who killed my mother?”

                Sirius clenched his fists together, as well as his teeth. “If I knew I’d-”

                “Sirius, please, get a hold of yourself,” Dumbledore said calmingly. “Sirius was the one who’d gone to confront Peter about giving over the Potters. Peter turned the whole situation around, making it look to everyone like Sirius had done it all. It was Peter who blew up the street-full of Muggles.”

                “So… he killed himself?” Evelyn asked.

                “Peter Petigrew was one of four unregistered Anamagi, along with your father. He could, appropriately, I suppose, turn himself into a rat. He did so then. Leaving  only a finger behind.”

                “So… in other words… Dad got framed?” Evelyn asked quietly.

                “If that’s how you’d like to put it,” Dumbledore replied. “Then, yes.”

                “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Evelyn said, glaring from one man to the other.

                “Evelyn, you’ve got to believe them,” said a voice from behind them.

                Harry threw off his invisibility cloak, and walked to stand next to Evelyn.

                “What in the hell…”

                Harry smirked. “I followed you. I’ve gotten pretty good at using this thing.”

                Evelyn scratched the back of her head. “You believe all this?”

                Harry sighed. “I’ve seen Petigrew. I’ve seen him at Voldemort’s side.” Harry lifted his shirt sleeve to reveal a scar on his upper arm. “He gave me this.”

                After thinking everything through, Evelyn turned slowly to looked upon Sirius. “I… I guess… I guess I’m sorry for acting like a big idiot without knowing everything.”

                Sirius nodded. “Salright,” he told her. “Runs in the family.”

                “So… hi,” Evelyn said nervously holding out her hand. “I’m Evelyn Black. Your daughter.”

                Sirius gave a strange look to his daughter’s hand, and then her face.

                Harry rolled his eyes, and, taking initiative he didn’t know he possessed, shoved Evelyn into a hug with Sirius. They gripped onto each other tightly.

                She laughed. “Man, do you smell bad.”

                He laughed with her.

                “Very touching, Sirius. Really, quite moving.”

                Sirius shoved Evelyn, and then Harry behind him when he saw Peter Petigrew saunter up.

                “Be glad your last moments were happy ones,” he told them, holding up his wand.

                “Peter,” Sirius said casually. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed lately, but you’ve always been, and always will be, a really sucky wizard.”

                “Yes, but anyone can do unforgivable curses,” Peter replied. He held up his wand.  “Ava- AH!”

                “EXPELORAMUS!”

                Peter’s wand went flying behind him, and he was put into a half-nelson.

                Professor Angel O’Brien smirked, and tossed Dumbledore the wand. “I still got it.”

                Sirius rushed Petigrew, who disaparated before he got there.

                “NO!” Sirius cried. “Dammit!”

                “Boundalious!”

                All of the sudden, Sirius’ hands flew behind his back, and remained stuck there by heavy metal bindings.

                Cornelius Fudge emerged with a dozen or so Ministry goons behind him. 

                “Sirius Black,” Fudge said pleasantly. “How wonderful to see you again.”

                Evelyn glared heavily. “Let him go.”

                “Do you not know the horror story that is your father’s life, my dear?” Fudge asked.

                “Ten Galleons says I know a hell of a lot more than you do,” she snarled. “Let. Him. Go.”

                “This is Ministry business, my dear,” Fudge said, in an equally rude tone. “And you have no business telling me what to do, seeing as you’re a little girl.”

                Harry was shocked to hear her growl. She was about to advance, when Professor O’Brien took hold of her and dragged her back.

                “Cornelius, don’t do this,” Dumbledore said. “I know it’s hard to believe, but give the boy a chance, give all of us truth spells, and you’ll find that Sirius Black is quite innocent.”

                “Oh, I don’t think so,” Fudge said. “It’s back to Azkaban for this one.”

                It was Harry’s turn to be outraged, and try and move forward. “You can‘t-”

                Dumbledore blocked him.

                “I’m surprised at you, Albus,” Fudge mentioned. “I‘d think you‘d want to see him locked up after what he did to your daughter.”

                Harry blinked. “Daughter?” he asked Dumbledore.

                “You mean you didn’t know, Harry?” Fudge asked. “Black was married to your headmaster’s daughter. And then he led Voldemort right to her, and she died. Poor girl had no idea what was going on. Now, if you‘ll excuse us.” He nodded to them and walked off.

                The goons led Sirius away, his eyes still on Harry and Evelyn. Fudge followed them.

                Evelyn finally ripped herself out of Angel’s hold.

                “That’s it?!” she cried. “That’s it?! They win, just like that?! You’re making me stand here and let them take the wrong guy?!”

                “They don’t know they have the wrong guy,” Angel replied.

                “I’m going after them,” Evelyn said, determined.

                “No, Evelyn,” Dumbledore said.

                “Do you realize that was the first time I’ve seen my father since I was one?! And I find out he’s not a murderer?!”

                “Evelyn, please,” Dumbledore said softly. “Don’t do this.”

                Evelyn stalked off, leaving the three men standing there.

                “How did they know he was here?” Harry asked quietly. “The only people who knew were Us, Ron, Hermione and Wesley.”

                Angel’s eyes narrowed. “I know exactly how. I’ll see you in the morning.” He, too stormed off.

                Dumbledore shook his head. “Come, Harry. We should both get some sleep. I‘ve got to go in the morning and see Remus Lupin.” He literally had to drag the boy from the scene.

                When Harry got back to the Three Broomsticks, he told Ron and Hermione everything that had happened. They both sat in a daze.

                “What do we do?” Ron asked. “We can’t let Snuffles rot in that hell-hole.”

                “There’s nothing we can do,” Harry said. “I wish it weren’t so. He could really use a jail break.”

 

                “You… bitch.”

                “That’s business, Angel, you know that. If he’s not with us, he’s against us,” Lilah took a sip of pumpkin juice in her room in an inn just outside of Hogsmeade. “And the best part? He was dispensable. How did you find me, anyways?”

                Angel shook his head. “You just put an innocent man back in Azkaban.”

                “Are you that surprised? We‘d been trying to contact him for months, with no replies. I was just sent to get a straight answer and do my job.” Lilah explained.

                “What do you want here?”

                “Oh, please, Angel,” Lilah replied. “You mean you don’t know? Linwood wants me to make some deals  with the Dark Lord. Make sure we have a cut in this whole rise of Voldemort thing. And since you have no idea where the hell he is, you can‘t stop me. Now get out.”

               

 

Life Goes On,

                When Draco Malfoy came home from Hogsmeade, he received an owl from his parents. The gist of it was that when he came home for winter holiday, his father planned to start his training as a Deatheater.

                He’d received the same letter a week before, and the week before that.

                He sent his third howler back home, telling his parents he wanted nothing to do with their choice of occupation. As much of an asshole as he was, he was no one’s pawn, and certainly wasn’t into killing people for fun.

                The knock on the door nearly made him jump.

                “Draco? Draco, it’s Professor Maclay.”

                He cleared his throated hid the howler under his bed. “Come in!”

                Professor Maclay poked her head into the room. “Hey. Whatcha up to?”

                “Nothing,” he replied. He turned in his chair. “What do you want?” He didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh, but he was in a bad mood. Threats of Deatheater training did that to him.

                “You seemed pretty upset at dinner today,” the blond witch replied. “Just checking on you.”

                He had been upset. By the letter. He’d almost been tempted to ask Evelyn Black if he could borrow her lighter so that he could light his parents’ letter on fire.

                “I’m fine,” he told her.

                She nodded. “If there’s anything, y’know, you wanna vent about, well, you know where my classroom is.”

                He nodded. “Yeah.”

                “And… Willow says hi.”

                Draco blinked. “Umm… hi.”

                Tara smiled at him and left.

                He took his howler back out and finished it.

 

                “…So Sirius and James took all the jam they could muster up from the kitchen and dumped it all over of the Slytherin common room.” Wesley smiled at the snickers he got. “but this heinous prank did not go unanswered. Oh, no. A day later, the Gryffindor common room was covered by one of the ten plagues of Egypt. Frogs. Tons of them.”

                The Slytherins in the room laughed.

                “Now, Remus loved frogs. He had about three living with he and his friends in their dorm,” Wesley explained. “So he adopted a few more. Now, he sat behind your Professor Snape in Potions. And one day, Remus took one of the many frogs he had out of his pocket, and dropped it into Snape’s robes. And… well… somehow, it got into his trousers.”

                Dumbledore smiled. “Ah, yes. I recall this incident.”

                “So, Severus gets to his feet, and starts running and jumping around like a maniac,” Wesley continued. “Sirius Black sticks one of his foot, and Snape goes sprawling, writhing on the ground. That was the first, and last time Remus Lupin got detention.”

                Snape glared at Wesley menacingly.

                “Oh, come off it, Severus,” Wesley snapped. “How old are you? Four?”

                “And on that note,” Dumbledore chimed. “Time for bed.” 

 

                Ron, Harry and Hermione walked out of Professor Wyndham-Pryce’s classroom together, that is until Hermione pulled Ron back.

                “Let’s tell him.”

                “What?”

                “About us. Let’s tell Harry.”

                “Why?”

                “Because we’ve been skirting around him for nearly a month, and we need to tell me.”

                Ron stared at her for a moment, and then sighed. “Well… alright.”

                Harry was giving them a confused look. “What’s going on?”

                “Harry,” Ron said. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

                “What?” he asked suspiciously.

                “Uhm… Ron and I have been, well…” Hermione trailed off.

                “Seeing each other?” Harry asked in an annoyed tone. “About bloody time you actually just said it.”

                “You knew?” Ron asked.

                “Of course I knew!” Harry yelled. “I’m only your best friend! And you couldn’t even just tell me?”

                “We thought it would make things weird,” Hermione said quietly.

                “What was weird was having you two sneaking around, like I’m some little kid,” Harry snapped. “You could have just told me.”

                “We know,” Ron muttered, looking down. “I’m sorry we didn’t.”

                “Fine,” Harry said shortly. “Whatever… I’m… I’m gonna grab my cloak and go see Hagrid.”

                “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Hermione asked. “Petigrew could still be about.”

                “I don’t care,” Harry snapped.

                He did exactly as he said he would. He fetched his invisibility cloak, and walked through the grounds, only to be grabbed by the hair, and a hand closed over his mouth.

                “Not a sound,” Petigrew growled. “Not one squeak.”

                At that moment, Harry knew that he should have listened to Hermione. Again.

 

Flippage Outage…

                “Hagrid, have you seen Harry?”

                Hagrid looked up at Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley curiously on that Saturday morning.

                “No’ since class yesterday.”

                “That’s it,” Ron said, his voice cracking. “You were right. Petigrew got him. He’s gone. He’s dead. You-know-who chopped his head off and it‘s all our fault.”

                Hagrid looked at the fifth year with worried, curious eyes. Ron was pale, and had dark circles under his eyes. His fly was unzipped, and his sweater was on backwards.

                “What’s happened?” Hagrid asked.

                “Well,” Hermione said. “Harry told us last night that he was going to see you… and… well… Ron said he never heard him come back last night, and he wasn’t there in the morning in the Tower, or at breakfast, and… well… we don’t know where he is.”

                “Didja ask Dumbledore?” Hagrid asked.

                “Ask Dumbledore what?”

                They turned to see their Headmaster standing in the doorway.

                “Professor!” Ron cried.

                “I was looking for Harry,” he told them.

                “He’s dead,” Ron said, still panicked. “We’ve killed him.”

                “Will you get a hold of yourself?” Hermione said. She turned to Dumbledore. “He said he was going to come here last night, never showed up here, and hasn’t turned up in the castle, and he can‘t have gone to see Snuffles, because… well… you know.”

                Dumbledore rubbed his chin. “This is interesting, isn’t it? It’s not like Harry to not turn up.”

                “Petigrew got him and it’s all our fault!” Ron cried. “We’ve killed him!”

                “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about, Ron?” Dumbledore asked.

                “Well… we waited till last night to tell Harry something we should have told him awhile ago,” Hermione explained. “He got upset, and that’s why he was going to come here.”

                “Oh,” Dumbledore replied. “I see. I think. We’d better talk to the other teachers before we jump to conclusions… And… Ron, you look as if you could use something to calm you down. Perhaps we should stop by the hospital wing.”

                “I’m a horrible friend,” Ron muttered. “I suck at being a friend, and I should be taken out and shot.”

                “Lad, maybe you should have some tea,” Hagrid said nervously.

                “I don’t deserve tea. I don’t deserve anything. I‘m a bad friend.”

                Hermione looked worriedly to Ron and sighed. “He’s been going on like this all morning. I don’t think he got any sleep last night.”

                “I waited up for him,” Ron  told them.

                “Ye’re not a bad friend, lad,” Hagrid said. “Yer worried, aren’t ye? An’ ye care that he was angry with you.”

                “If it weren’t for us, he wouldn’t have gone off,” Hermione said guiltily. “We’ve just got to find him!”

                “We will,” Dumbledore assured her. “Perhaps he’s with another professor.”

                “Maybe Snape ate him,” Ron grumbled.

                “I’ll ignore that comment,” Dumbledore said. “Now, come on.”

               

                They looked for about two hours, and no one had seen hide nor hair of Harry. After that, Dumbledore sent for Snape, The Angel Investigations members, the Scooby gang, and MacGonagall to come to his office.

                Hermione thought she saw Ron twitch.

                “I feel horrible, Hermione,” Ron said. “You were right. Again. We shoulda told him sooner.”

                Hermione sighed. “I warned him about Petigrew.”

                “Petigrew is dead,” Snape snapped.

                “You saw him!” Hermione cried.

                “No, he didn’t,” Ron replied. “We knocked of the hell out of him, remember?”

                “I tried to block that out of my memory,” she told him. “And don’t curse!”

                “If Petigrew’s got Harry… that’s bad,” Wesley said.

                “Way to state the obvious, Wes,” Faith said. “Where would he have gone?”

                “We don’t know,” Dumbledore replied. “That’s our fist problem.”

                “We could try a locator spell,” Tara offered.

                “It’s an option,” Angel nodded. “But I think I know someone who can help us as a first choice. Come on. We need to get to Hogsmeade.”

                “I wanna go, too,” Ron announced, getting up. “This is mostly my fault.”

                “Me, too,” Hermione said.

                “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Wesley told them. “Hermione, what your mother say if she found out I was taking you to fight Voldemort? And Ron… I’ve met your mother. I’m not even going to go there.”

                “But we’ve got to go,” Hermione said. She turned to Dumbledore. “Please?”

                Buffy was suddenly reminded of her own sister, begging to tag along, and suddenly missed her very much. “This is way dangerous,” she told them. “You guys are not old enough, or experienced enough to come. Please, just… stay here. Maybe Harry will turn up, yet.”

                “He’s my best friend!” Ron cried.

                “Mine, too!” Hermione said.

                “Hermione, please,” Wesley said. “We’re wasting time. Just stay here.”

                Ron visibly twitched, and Hermione slumped back in her seat.

                They were staying.

 

                After leaving Dumbledore’s office, they walked through the halls, and ran into Evelyn and Torianna, and informed them of what was going on.

                “Why didn’t you guys go?” Torianna asked.

                “We weren’t allowed,” Hermione explained.

                “And that stopped you?” Evelyn replied. “Why didn’t you just follow?”

                “No invisibility cloak,” Ron replied. “Harry had it. And now he‘s probably dead, and it‘s all my fault, and we shoulda told him, and now I‘ve gone and gotten him killed. I mean it‘s not like he needed my help, he‘s had half of England on his arse for year, and I‘m a bad friend, and…”

                “Has he been doing this all day?” Torianna asked Hermione.

                Hermione nodded. “No sleep.”

                “Could get my bat,” Torianna offered.

                “I’m considering it,” Hermione replied.

                “Gasp!” cried a voice. “The Weasel without Potty? It’s uncanny!”

                Ron whirled around a slugged Malfoy right in the face.

                Evelyn cringed. “Youch.”

                “Oh, no,” Hermione moaned.

                “Go, Ronnie,” Torianna said.

                Malfoy put a hand to his bleeding mouth. “What the fuck, Weasley?!”

                Ron blinked, and gave Draco a blank stare. “What?”

                “I’m sorry, Malfoy,” Hermione said. “You’ll have to excuse Ron. He’s really, really tired.” She put her hands on Ron’s shoulders and steered him the other way, followed by Evelyn and Torianna.

                Draco Malfoy stood there in shock.

                “Draco?”

                Malfoy turned around to find Willow standing there. She’d stayed behind from the search group for fear of what might happen if she was exposed to Voldemort.            

                 “Hi.”

                She rushed up to him and took his hand away from his bleeding face. “What happened?”

                “Got slugged,” he replied, still staring after the quartet.

                “Ron?”

                “Uh-huh.”

                “Why?”

                “He’s really, really tired.”

                “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital wing.” 

 

                “I left for here as soon as I hear about Sirius.”

                Dumbledore grimaced. “I’ve been in contact with Fudge. Trying to convince him to give the boy a fair trial.”

                Remus Lupin looked down. “When I find Petigrew-”

                “You’ll bring him into that courtroom to confess,” Dumbledore cut him off. “Remus, I know you. You wouldn’t-”

                “I almost did, in the Shrieking Shack with Sirius,” Remus replied. “I want him to suffer and die like Lily and James, and Emily.”

                Dumbledore shook his head. “He’s Sirius’ best chance for freedom.”

                “Well, Padfoot’s luck has always been rotten.”

                 

                “You’re staying in this bed if I have to chain you here.”

                Ron raised an eyebrow at Hermione. “Chains?”

                She blushed deeply, and threw the covers over him. “Stop that. I think Evelyn’s having a bad effect on you.” 

                “Nah,” he said with a tired smirk. “I’m my own bad effe-AAAHHH!!”

                “RON?!” Hermione cried.

                He gripped his hair, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together. Tears automatically spilled from his eye as he keeled over in his bed, curling up into a fetal position.

                “Ron?!” Hermione cried again “What is it?! You’re scaring me! Stop!”

                All at once, images of Voldemort, Petigrew and other death eaters ran through his head, almost laughing at him. He saw Harry… oh, god.

A horrific scream ripped through him that filled the Gryffindor tower.

                It ran down the stairs, through the halls, and right to the ears of the other Weasley siblings.

                “I’d know that scream anywhere,” George said to Fred and Ginny.

                Ginny led the way. She ran from the halls, through the portrait hole, and right up to the boys’ dorm. She swung the door to Ron’s room open hard, to find Ron thrashing on the bed, with Hermione leaning over him, trying to make him still.

                Fred looked completely baffled by the scene. “Kinky sex game?” he asked curiously.

                “What in the hell is going on?” George asked.

                “Get Dumbledore!” Hermione cried. “NOW!”

                Ginny ran from the room.

                “Help me keep him still, he’s out of control!” Hermione yelled at the twins.

 

                Ginny didn’t even bother knocking on Professor Dumbledore’s office door. She shoved the door open and stumbled in.

                Dumbledore and Remus Lupin stared at her, obviously startled.

                “Ginny?” Lupin asked.

                She was pale, and out of breath from running from one end of the castle to the other. “Ron’s flipping out.”

 

The Mind’s Eye

                “Ron? Can you hear me?”

                Ron’s eyes opened slowly to look up at Willow, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin. “Yes.”

                “What happened?” Lupin asked.

                Ron squeezed his eyes shut again and jerked.

                This time around he saw Sirius Black sitting in a dirty corner of his cell in Azkaban, a dementor looking through the cell bars at him.

                Ron screamed, and went back to being curled up in a ball.

                “What the hell is happening to him?!” Fred cried. He had an arm around Hermione, who was crying, while George had both his hands gripped onto Ginny’s shoulders.

                “We’re not sure,” Lupin replied. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Professor Rosenberg?”

                Willow shook her head. “It seems kinda familiar, but I have a feeling Angel might be better suited for this sorta thing.”

                “Well, he’s off trying to find Harry,” Dumbledore reminded her.

                Lupin’s brow furrowed. “What happened to Harry?”

                Ron’s teeth clenched. “Petigrew… Voldemort… death eaters…”

                “He can’t know that!” Hermione cried. “He’s been completely freaking out about it all day!”

                Willow shook her head. “Oh! OH! I know! I know! Oh! Oh. This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

                “What?” Lupin cried. He panicked as Ron started to thrash again.

                “He’s got visions.”

                The room went silent.

                “What?” Dumbledore asked.

                “Visions!” Willow cried. “He sees things that are happening right now, or will possibly happen. It makes perfect sense! The gripping the head, the… the knowing where Harry is… or… will be… the thrashing. Cordelia had the same thing.”

                “How do you get rid of it?” Hermione asked.

                “Umm… you can’t.”

                “WHAT?!”

 

                “Where… is Petigrew.”

                Angel smirked. “I’d tell her if I were you. She gets cranky when she doesn’t get her way.”

                “Forget cranky,” Faith muttered. “Just kill ‘er. She swiped my last name.”

                “Let’s try this again,” Buffy said, tightening her grip on Lilah’s throat. “Where the hell is Petigrew.”

                Lilah gagged. “If you let go of my throat, I’ll tell you.”

                “How about loosen?” Buffy suggested, loosening her grip on the lawyer’s throat. “Now. Where the hell is Peter Petigrew.”

                “On his way to Voldemort,” Lilah replied. “Bringing the kid.”

                Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “Harry. If anything happens to Harry-”

                “You’ll do what?” Lilah snapped. “Kill me? And then get hunted by the authorities of two countries, not to mention Fudge and his buttheads? I don’t think that’s what you want, Wesley.”

                Buffy tightened her grip again. “I’m not hearing what I want, Lilah.”

                “He’s gone to Riddle House!” Lilah cried.

                “How far away is that?” Tara asked.

                “Too far,” Lilah choked out. “He can’t possibly be there yet, and it’s too far to apparate.”

                 Wesley sighed. “Riddle House.”

 

                “I need a phone!” Willow cried. “Anybody! A telephone! Or a long-range disapparating spell to Los Angeles! Anything!”

                Lupin sighed. “I only know a spell that’ll take you as far as New York. The only person I knew who could do an disapparating spell that advanced was Lily Potter.”

                Hermione chimed in. “Perhaps two or three apparating spells at once?”

                “That’s a possibility,” Remus nodded. “But how on earth would she get back?”

                “Perhaps if we went with her?” Dumbledore asked.

                “Then who, besides the kids, will look after Ron?” Willow asked.

                “That one is very simple,” Dumbledore replied. “Poppy!”

 

                Cordelia Chase sighed as the phone rang in the Hyperian hotel. “Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless.”

                There were a few clicks, and silence.

                Cordelia blinked. “That’s… really weird.”

                “What weird?” Lorne asked, walking over to her desk.

                “Phone screwed up,” Cordelia replied. “No sign of Gunn or Fred, yet?”

                Lorne shook his head. “Not yet. Probably off somewhere having smoochies.”

                Cordelia smirked. “I just wonder why the phone is so wonky.”

                And then she got her answer.

                A bolt of blue lightening hit the lobby floor, and in a bright flash, Willow stood in her Professor’s robes, with one man on either side of her.

                Lorne smirked. “Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore.”

                Remus squinted. “Lorne?”

                “The one and only. What brings you back to LA?” Lorne asked, stepping forward.

                “Back?” Dumbledore asked Remus.

                Remus shrugged. “I did have thirteen years…”

                Cordelia got up. “Are you guys the reason for the phone screwing up?”

                “Probably,” Willow replied. “We need your help.”

                “Me?” Cordelia asked.

                “Both of you,” Willow replied. “There’s a boy at the school, who’s writhing in agony because he sees things in his head.”

                Cordelia’s expression became worried. “Oh, god… a kid?”

                Remus nodded. “They’re continuous. They don’t stop.”

                “Cordy,” Lorne chimed in. “You’ve met Albus Dumbledore, or, so you told me. This is Remus Lupin. Dazzlingly intelligent, slightly depressed, and… a werewolf.”

                “Nice to meet you,” Cordelia said, sticking her hand out to Remus.

                Remus raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Lorne.

                “Hey,” Lorne snapped. “She has no reason to be afraid of you. She’s a half-demon.”

                Remus sighed, and shook Cordelia’s manicured hand with his raw, pale one.

                “Hey, Reme,” Lorne commented, nodding to his disturbing-looking hand. “Thought you were taking something for that.” 

                Remus snatched his hand away, turning slightly red.

                “You said the visions are continuous?” Cordelia asked.

                Willow nodded. “He’s been screaming for about two hours straight.”

                Cordelia ran into the office as best she could in her orange heels. She opened up a desk drawer and took out a ripped up scroll. She brought it out, and sighed. “Do any of you know how to read ancient Arabic?”

               

                They’d finally caught up with Petigrew two hours after Buffy had knocked Lilah out cold, and Wesley had led them in the direction of Riddle House. Peter was dragging a bloody, tired-looking Harry behind him.

                Buffy felt anger boil up inside her. She really felt for the boy. He was caught up in something completely insane that he had no control over.

                She could relate.

                Which was why she jumped out in front of Petigrew and kneed him in the nuts.

                He squeaked, and lost grip of Harry, who would have fallen straight to the grass below him if Tara hadn’t caught him.

                “Well,” Giles muttered. “That’s one way of dealing with this. Buffy, I think Faith’s having a bad effect on you.”

                Buffy smirked. “Worked, didn’t it?”

                “Guess what?” Tara asked.

                “What?” Harry asked hoarsely, eyes half open.

                 “You’ve been rescued.”

                Wesley smiled at Peter and held out his wand. “Bounda-”

                And then he was gone. Disaparated.

                “DAMN!” Wesley snarled. “I almost had him! When the hell did he get so damn strong?!”

               

                “Ron? Can you hear me?”

                He nodded slowly at the pretty brunette kneeling in front of him. He’d obviously been moved to the hospital wing, but had no recollection of being removed from his bed. He’d been so wrapped up in the sights he was seeing, he could barely hear what the people standing around him were saying. He was desperately trying to push the visions back to he could try and help himself by listening to the people in the room, but it was becoming increasingly harder.

                “Okay, Ron, honey,” Lorne said, kneeling next to Cordelia. “I need you to hum me a few bars of something. Anything that comes to mind.”

                “How the hell will that help?” George snapped.

                “Don’t swear,” Ginny scolded.

                “That’s okay,” Lorne replied. “We get a lot of swearing in this business. Ron, please. Just let something out.”

                Quietly, Ron hummed out a scratchy, out of key rendition of Beethoven’s Ode to Joy. His voice shook and cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut again.

                “Okay,” Lorne said. “Definitely visions.”

                “He’s only human,” Cordelia said. “He’s not supposed to have visions. It’s not safe for him to have these. He could die.”

                Hermione’s hand shot to her mouth, and Remus sighed.

                “I think perhaps maybe you four should wait in the Gryffindor common room,” he suggested.

                “We’re not moving,” Ginny replied.

                Cordelia sighed. “Remus, you said you could read Arabic?”

                Remus nodded as she handed him the Scroll of Aberjian. 

                “It worked for me,” Cordelia told them. “Let’s hope it’s not a disposable.”

 

                “Wesley, we have to get Harry back to Hogwarts,” Giles said. “We don’t have time to go looking for Petigrew.”

                “You get Harry back,” Wesley told the other man. “I’ve got to find Petigrew.”

                “He’ll be with Voldemort,” Angel said. “You wanna get the big AK?”

                “All I want is Petigrew,” Wesley replied. “With him, we can clear Sirius’ name, and-”

                “Get killed by Voldemort,” Giles finished. “Wesley, Petigrew is Voldemort’s  right-hand man. He’s not just going to let him go. Especially if it means Sirius’ exoneration. Another time.”

                “Oh, you mean after Sirius gets the Dementor’s kiss and it‘s too late?”

                “The What’s what?” Buffy asked.

                “Dementor’s Kiss,” Wesley replied. “It leaves you without a soul, and crazier than Drusilla.”

                Tara shuddered. She’d only met Drusilla once or twice, which was enough to tell her that she was nuts.

                “Wesley,” Giles said. “Dumbledore won’t let that happen. You know that. Now come on.”

                Wesley stared at the group for a moment, and then stared at Harry, who was being held up by Faith and Buffy, barely conscious.

                “Fine.”

 

                “Unbind. Unbind. Unbind.”

                A bright light filled the room. When it died down, Ron slowly opened blood-shot eyes and looked around while slowly sitting up. He spotted his siblings and Hermione.

                “Ginny? Fred? Mione? George?” he said hoarsely.

                 Ginny was the first to rush over and throw her arms around him.

               

                “What brings you back here?”

                Remus sighed at his daughter. They were sitting across from each other in the Gryffindor common room while most everyone else was still taking care of Ron. “Sirius Black. What else?”

                Torianna smirked. “Yeah. Right.”

                “Did you get the owl?”

                “Yeah. Thanks for that,” she nodded. “I named him Bunsen.”

                Remus raised a curious eyebrow at her.

                “Y’know, from the Muppets?”

                “Alright,” Remus replied slowly. There was a pause. “School is going well?”

                Torianna nodded again. “Yeah, it’s okay. I feel real outta place, though… Evelyn fits in much better than I do.”

                Remus shrugged. “Maybe… maybe some more time would help. Get to know everyone better.”

                “Yeah, maybe… I’d… kinda like to get to know you better, though,” she told him, feeling a bit embarrassed.

                Remus gave her a full blown smile. “Well… well, we’ll have all summer for that, won’t we?”

                She smiled nervously at him. “Yeah… right… I am kinda worried about Evelyn, though. She hasn’t said word one about her dad.”

                “These Blacks, they make for difficult friends, don’t they?” Remus chuckled.

                Torianna laughed sincerely at this. “Yeah, they really do.”

                Remus sighed and picked up the cup of tea in front of him. “She needs you, though. And I think Harry would benefit from you’re being around. I… know you don’t know him very well… if things had been different… just… he’s not a bad guy to know.”

                Torianna nodded. “Yeah… so how long are you staying?”

                “As long as it takes to help Dumbledore convince Fudge to give Sirius Black a fair trial. Probably a week or so,” Remus nodded.

                “Good, you can help me with my Potions homework. Snape sucks.”

                Remus cracked another smile at his only daughter. “Anything you want.”

               

                It was odd.

                It wasn’t often Harry had two roommates in the Hospital wing, but there they were. One on either side of him.

                Ron was curled up in a ball on the bed, looking to be in a troubled sleep. Tossing and turning, occasionally moaning quietly in pain. Next to him sat Hermione, looking almost ill with worry.

                On the other side of Harry, Draco Malfoy sat up in his bed with a rather swollen lip that Madam Pomfrey had yet to tend to.

                “What happened to you?” Harry asked Draco.
                “The Weasel,” Malfoy grumbled. “Poncy bastard slugged me.”

                Harry sighed, and turned to Hermione. “So.”

                Hermione stared over at him with a worried look. “Harry… I just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got nabbed by Petigrew because of us. We really should have just told you.”

                Harry nodded. “You should have.”

                “Ron’s been freaking out about it… cause… you know, you were missing. He thought you were dead for sure, and he really blamed himself for it,” she told him. “And this… vision hit him, and-”

                “Vision?” Harry asked.

                Hermione nodded. “He sees things. Not like Trelawney. More accurate, and he feels the pain of the people in the visions… it… I… they’ve killed people these visions.”

                “Ron’s… Ron’s gonna die?” Harry choked out in disbelief. He got to his feet slowly and walked over to sit next to his friend.

                Hermione nodded. “That woman… Cordelia… she said he may not even make it to seventh year.” She sniffed, and Harry put an arm around her. “He doesn’t even know it.” She put her head on his shoulder.

                “Hermione, maybe you should go get some sleep,” Harry said. “We have class tomorrow.”

                “For the first time in my life, I don’t think I can think about class,” Hermione told him. She got to her feet, and gave Ron a last look. “Feel better, Harry.”

                Harry nodded. “Thanks.”

                After Hermione left, Harry slid to sit on the floor, leaning against Ron’s bed, resting his head on the side. He soon fell asleep.

 

                Cordelia sobbed into Angel’s shoulder in the room he shared with Willow and Tara. “He’s only fifteen.”

                Angel nodded. “I know Cordelia. I’m so sorry.”

                “There’s nothing we can do for him,” she cried. “He’s just gonna die…”

                Angel shook his head. “He might not. Look at you.”

                “They’re not gonna give him that chance,” Cordelia replied. “Look at me. I don’t even know the kid and I’m crying like a baby.”

                “You feel his pain,” Angel replied. “You know what it’s like.” He sighed. “Wesley, Dumbledore and I have to talk to his parents.”

                Cordelia wiped her eyes. “I wanna be there, too.”

                Angel sighed. “I don’t know about that, Cordy… did you even bother telling Fred and Gunn you were coming here?”

                She smiled through her tears. “Oops?”

                “Cordy…”

                “I wanna be here, Angel,” she begged. “I wanna help him.”

                Angel sighed. “You’re needed in LA, though.”

                “But Ron-”

                “Has people here,” Angel finished. “Who care about him. Whom he trusts more than he probably trusts you. If things get really bad, you’ll know, and you’ll be here to help, but there’s nothing you can do for him right now.”

 

                “So… what are they for?”

                Molly Weasley sat in Albus Dumbledore’s office, her husband, and three eldest sons standing and sitting around her.

                “They’re for a warrior, so he or she can go out and stop the vision from occurring,” Wesley explained. “It’s a very noble, and, unfortunately, a very tragic position.”

                “Tragic?” Arthur Weasley asked.

                Angel sighed. “Most human seers die within three years of their task.”

                Molly’s eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth.

                “There’s no way to make them stop?” Charlie asked quietly, putting a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

                Wesley shook his head. “Not that we’ve found.”

                “Why aren’t you still looking?” Molly demanded.

                Percy sighed. “There, there Mum. There have to be answers somewhere. Maybe the ministry-”

                When the inhabitants of the room stared at him sharply, he shut him mouth.

 

More to come!