The Eighth Weasley

By Fyre

Chapter 11: Diagon Alley

"Stand back." Giles had produced his wand from a deep pocket and stepped up to the crumbling brick wall in front of them. His companions watched dubiously, as he tapped a brick three times with the tip of the wand.

"Whoa!" Xander exclaimed, impressed, as the bricks started moving, the sound of stone grating against stone barely audible as the pathway opened into Diagon Alley, a perfect arch forming in the wall.

Anya nodded admiringly at the arch. "Good stonework." She remarked.

"Have to get one of those put in my frat." Oz agreed. "Stylish."

Giles replaced his wand in the pocket again. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, shopping centre of the Wizarding World."

"Can we go look at stuff?" Buffy demanded eagerly.

The former Librarian sighed. "I should have expected that." He remarked, more to himself than anyone else. "I need to go to Gringotts, so I'll trust you to behave yourselves and we'll meet there," He pointed to a small cafe. "In two hours." He pointed a finger at Xander. "Don't touch anything."

"Two hours! What can I look at in two hours? Giles!"

He pointedly ignored her, walking off into the bustling crowds, in the direction of a large, impressive-looking white building in the distance. Anya immediately grabbed Xander's arms, hauling him away into the swarms of people.

"I think I'll just hang out here." Oz looked around and up at the sun shining down between the tiled rooftops and buildings. "See you?"

"Yeah..." Buffy murmured absently, staring around at the shops. Surely there would be a Victoria's Secret somewhere around here.

Leaving the werewolf to make himself comfortable on a bench in the warm sun, she started off through the numerous witches and wizards of all ages, quite a lot of them clad in robes and strange garb.

She got a few curious looks, but many younger witches seemed to be wearing clothing similar to her own, so she didn't feel so out of place.

"Have you seen the price of newt eyes?" An elderly woman with curly white hair and round glasses that reminded the Slayer of her grandmother demanded, looking horrified. "Fifteen knuts a gram!"

"Uh...I'm guessing that's bad." Buffy offered, hoping she was saying the right thing.

"Bad? Bad?!?" The Witch threw her hands up in horror. "Dear, its proposterous! For that price, I could buy ten newts and pluck the eyes from them." A nauseous look crossed the Slayer's face. "Oh dear," The witch noticed the look and grinned slightly, showing crooked teeth. "That did sound quite bad, didn't it?" She reached out to pat the Slayer's hand with a gnarled one. "I would kill them first, of course. I'm not that inhumane."

"Oh. Good."

"Oh, excuse me, dear." Squeezing past the Slayer, the old woman bustled off, leaving the stunned Buffy staring after her.

"O...K..." She managed to say, turning to continue down the street, finally coming within window-shopping range of the first shop. The sign above the door had a picture of a cauldron and there were stacks of the things along the front of the shop and in the window.

Moving onwards, she almost tripped over a group of children playing with marbles. Pausing to watch, she yelled in fright and surprise when one of the marbles that was struck by another burst into a puff of flame, then vanished.

"Was that meant to happen?" She asked, when all their faces rose to look up at her, apparently amused by her response.

"Uh-huh." A dark girl with braided hair nodded. "They're Phoenix marbles."

"Don't worry." One of the boys said, grinning at her. He was sandy haired, green eyed and both his front teeth were missing. "They come back, when the games finished. They're the newest game from Zonko's."

"Zonko's?" Buffy echoed faintly, squatting down to talk to them.

"Yeah!" Another boy enthused, pointing up at the shop they were squatted outside. A bright, gaudy sign proclaimed it to be called 'Zonko's Joke Shop'. "They just opened this one, since not everyone can get all the way to Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade?"

The gap-toothed boy stared at her. "You're a muggle, aren't you?"

"Uh...sort of."

"How can you be sort of a muggle?" The dark girl demanded shrilly.

"Well, I do have some magic stuff I can do...sort of..."

The brown-haired boy frowned. "Like what?"

"Well, I...uh...can fight vampires."

"Do you use a wand?" The sandy-haired boy asked.

Buffy grinned faintly, reaching behind her back and withdrawing Mister Pointy. The stake remained with her at all times and she had taped it to her back, in case any vampires should happen to lurk in sunlight-filled Diagon Alley. "I have this."

"That's not a wand!" the dark-haired boy pointed out. "That's just a boring stick."

"This boring stick," Buffy spun it in her hand, like a gun-slinger would a gun, making all three of the children stare, three mouths forming 'o's of surprise. "Has killed more vampires than you can imagine."

The toothless boy hesitantly touched it. "Really?"

"Yep!" The blonde girl grinned, but then it faded slightly as she added. "A friend gave it to me, a little while before she died." She turned the stake over in her hand, touching the carved handle reverently. "Its been my best stake for two years."

"How do we know you're not just making that up?" The dark girl said. "I've never seen a vampire, so how do we know they're real?"

Replacing Mister Pointy at the base of her back, she raised a hand and pulled her loose hair back from her neck. "You see this mark?" She said, pointing to the scar on her throat. All three knelt up to stare and nodded. "I was bitten there by a vampire."

"You were bitten?" The dark-haired boy whispered. "Wow..."

"Did it hurt?" The girl inquired.

Buffy looked at her, then smiled slightly. "Duh! A great big demon stuck his teeth into my neck! Of course it hurt."

"Did you stick your stick into his chest?" The sandy-haired boy asked eagerly.

Letting her hair fall back over her neck, Buffy shook her head. "He was too strong for a boring stick." She said with a shudder. "So I pushed him through a roof and he fell onto a huge stake and poof! He was gone."

"Cool!" All three were staring at her in awe.

"What are you up to, Josh?" A shadow lengthened above them and Buffy squinted up to see a striking man in his early twenties standing over them. The sandy haired boy snatched up his marbles and scrambled to his feet.

"Uncle Oliver!" He squealed excitedly, as Buffy straightened up awkwardly, a sheepish look on her face. "This lady kills vampires with a weird stick! She killed one with a great big stick after she pushed him through a roof!"

His Uncle, Oliver apparently, looked from the boy to Buffy. "Right, Josh. No more horror stories at bed time, for you." He said dryly, then gave Buffy a smile. His accent was faintly Scottish, with a far-too-yummy sound to it and he was...Buffy nearly whimpered aloud. He was cute and sounded sexy too. She was never going to get a word out! "Sorry if they were bothering you."

"That...its...uh...no problem." Ah! Those were the words she needed to use. Now, repeat and add, so you sound vaguely normal. "It was no problem." As always, muteness in the face of cuteness had struck again.

He held out a strong hand, which Buffy shook, still staring mutely at him. "I'm Oliver Wood and this little tyke here," He nodded down to the sandy-haired boy, who was grinning brightly. "Is my nephew, Josh."

"I...I...erm...Buffy." Your own name! Bravo! Such wit and talent with words you've got going there. "I'm Buffy. Buffy Summers."

There was a brief flicker of recognition in the man's face. "I'm sure I've heard that name somewhere." He gave her another smile. "No matter, I'm sure it'll come to me." He caught Josh's hand in his. "Nice meeting you, but I have to be off."

"Nice...you too...I mean, meeting you was nice too." Mentally kicking herself, she watched as the tall, darkish and handsome man with the rather sexy accent walked into the crowd, leading Josh with him.

"Bye!" Josh called back, waving.

Buffy reluctantly waved after him, before continuing on her way down the streets.

***
"I'd like to make a withdrawl from account number seven-two-nine."

"Name."

"Rupert Giles."

"Do you have your key?"

The former Watcher was raking through his pockets for the key, when he heard the familiar tones of Anya's voice ringing across the hall. The marble walls and floor tended to make sound carry, so most people would keep their voices respectfully low, but not Anya.

Placing his copper key on the tabletop, beside a pile of diamonds next to silver scales, he turned to see what the former demon was up to.

She was standing on the other side of the hall, at one of the desks. A Goblin with an open ledger was looking down at her as grimly as any other Goblin would, leaning forward on his forearms. A quill was gripped in the long fingers of his right hand.

"I have an account in the name of Anya Eimersohn." She was saying, proferring a small, gold key. Xander was standing beside her, looking distinctly nervous. "I never closed it, so with all the interest rates and everything, there should be lots of money in it for me."

"Anya Eimersohn." The Goblin in front of her was looking through the books and, for the first time in living memory, a Gringotts' Goblin uttered an exclamation of surprise, every eye in the bank swiveling to him.

"It better still be open." Anya muttered to Xander.

"Honey, what is that?"

Anya looked from her boyfriend to the Goblin. "Him? He's a Goblin." She gave the Goblin a bright smile, as he rechecked the dates, his mouth hanging open, revealing sharp rows of teeth. "Don't stare." She added, to Xander. "Its rude."

"There...there seems to be some kind of mistake." The Goblin muttered in as low a voice as he could.

"Mistake?" Anya's voice, as always, seemed to penetrate every ear. Even the Goblin serving Giles was watching the unfolding drama with a combination of curiousity and disguised puzzlement. "What kind of mistake? My life savings were in that account."

"But it says this account was opened in the year 901. AD." Beads of sweat were dotting the Goblin's brow.

"And?"

He blinked at her. "A-and?"

"I'm eleven hundred and twenty years old. Give me my money already."

"Excuse me a moment," Giles' Goblin murmured, sliding off his stool and hurrying to the younger Goblin's aid. "Perhaps I can be of assistance." He offered. "What seems to be the trouble here?"

"I have an account with money in it." Anya explained, scowling at the Goblin. "I want the money and he won't let me have it."

"You are Anya Eimersohn?" She nodded impatiently. "And you opened this account eleven hundred years ago?"

"No."

"Oh?"

"I opened it a thousand and ninety-nine years ago, in 901.AD, like your friend said." She gave him a dark glare. "I thought you were meant to be able to count and now, you won't even let me have my money back!"

The younger Goblin pointed to some figures on the page. "Ah, Miss Eimersohn..."

"I'm called Emerson now. It seemed to fit better with the twentieth century."

"Miss Emerson," The Goblin politely nodded, voice low. "It seems that your account had to be transferred to..." He scanned down the figures. "Vaults twenty one, seventy nine, four hundred and thirty and six hundred and fifty two." He looked up at her. "It grew too extensive to be contained in one vault."

"Ooh!" The former-demon's eyes lit up. "That means I'm rich, doesn't it?" She grinned happily at Xander. "I can buy a new apartment now." She enthused. "One that doesn't smell of mildew and dirty laundry." She paused. "Oh...that was yours."

"Shall I take Miss Emerson down to her vaults?" The younger Goblin asked weakly.

"That would be wise." The Senior one nodded, then returned to his desk, where Giles was still waiting. "I apologise for that." He said, reseating himself and turning the pages of his huge ledger to make a note, before returning his attention to Giles. "You have your key?"

Tapping it, Giles nodded, watching distractedly as the smiling Anya and terrified-looking Xander were led through the immense copper doors that led to the carts that would carry them down to the vaults.

"One moment." The Goblin called for one of his colleagues.

"Follow me, please." The little Goblin said, clad in identical red and gold livery to the rest of the Goblins in the Bank. Giles nodded, still chuckling slightly at what had just happened. To see a Gringotts' Goblin speechless...it had to be savoured.

***
"Nice place." Buffy murmured to herself, looking around the darker alleyways. Despite the blue skies above the buildings, none of the sunlight seemed to penetrate the dingy passages she had strayed into.

The stores had become grimmer as well, hideous things lying in the windows, making her shudder. She was starting to see why Giles had described it as 'fascinating', as opposed to 'a real shopping experience for the fashion-lover'.

She was also thinking up slow and painful ways of killing him for daring to class any of the small shops as 'stores'. None of them even sold shoes or clothes she would wear, unless she wanted to look like a black tent.

A sigh of frustration escaped her and she turned to return to the sunnier parts of Diagon Alley, but she could see no sign of it.

"Brilliant." She grumbled to herself, looking around before starting down a random alley. "Get lost in the icky dark place."

She had taken half a dozen turns before realising that she was just getting herself even more lost, a groan of frustration escaping her. Looking up, she found herself outside a shop called Borgin & Burkes and she looked around as the door beside her opened.

Three men emerged from the shop, all looking around the same age as the Slayer. The two large, muscular, gormless looking ones were flanking the tall, slender young man in the middle. If he hadn't looked so blatantly arrogant, he might have been good-looking.

"Uh...excuse me?"

"Yes?" The middle man said, looking down at her coldly. He was wearing expensive robes, his pale, pointed face twisted in an expression of disgust.

"I seem to have got a bit lost." She looked around hopelessly. "Could you point me in the direction of the main streets?"

His cool grey eyes skimmed over her and he raised a brow. "Indeed."

"Would that be a yes or a no?"

"You could use your wand to find your way back." He sneered.

"Well, if I had one, I would." Hands on her hips, she glared at him.

The other blond brow rose. "If you had one." A cold laugh escaped his thin lips. "How very amusing." Both his beefy cohorts took that as a cue to chuckle in what was meant to be a menacing way.

"Amusing? Amusing how?"

"An American muggle lost in Knockturn Alley."

She stared at him rudely. "Still not seeing the funnies."

"Of course you're not." He murmured. A slender hand rose and a chilly thumb brushed across Buffy's cheek. She recoiled from his touch, a look of contempt on her face. "Its such a wonderful irony that none of your muggle friends would even know what happened to you and no one down here would honestly care."

"You might have to try that explanation thing one more time." She knocked his hand aside and added dangerously. "Touch me again and I break every one of your fingers."

A smirk lifted thin lips up, the shadows around them making the thin man look even more sinister. "Knockturn Alley is for lovers of the Dark Arts and usually those who would happily kill muggles on sight." His eyes drifted suggestively down her body. "Or at least, entertain themselves using a muggle."

"Uh...huh..."

"You might be lucky," He murmured, his voice like chilling silk. "A pretty thing like you..."

"What part of 'Touch me again and I break every one of your fingers' did you not understand?"

The pale-faced man chuckled icily. "I think, Muggle, that you might...no, you will be begging for us all to touch you in a short time..." A wand appeared in his slender hand and he casually remarked. "Imperio."

Buffy felt an odd sensation, as if all her cares had been swept away, as if she didn't have a thing to worry about in the World. That made her mentally raise her brows. Despite the niceness of the feeling, it felt wrong, considering her duty.

"Come with us, Muggle." The pale-faced man whispered softly, moving alongside her. His hand spread on her back, steering her forward.

It would be so easy to obey, to go with them, to do what they wanted.

The pleasant feelings washed over her again as she took a step forward.

"Good girl." His fingers caressed her spine through her short-sleeved shirt. "You'll enjoy this."

Just go with them. Do what they want. Enjoy the peace.

Ew...sleazy guy touching...break all fingers...

Enjoy the peace. Its nice, for a change. It doesn't matter.

What? Are you crazy? You heard the guy! He'll probably screw you and kill you!

And? Its too nice now.

AND??

There was a sickening crack.

"Bloody hell!"

Buffy shook her head, blinking and clearing away the remnants of the spell from her mind. "Okay, I said fingers...so I missed." She said coldly, staring down at the one who had cast the spell.

The pale man was on the pavement on his knees, his hand pressed to his nose. Blood was spurting from his nostrils. "You bitch!"

"Hey, I didn't put a spell on you to make you do what I wanted." She retorted, hands on her hips, voice icy.

"Crabbe, Goyle..." He motioned both of his cronies forward, struggling to get to his feet, dabbing his nose with the corner of his robes.

The two enormous youths cracked their knuckles and flexed their bulging muscles, leering down at the petite blonde. She spread her hands with a chilling grin of anticipation, barely reaching the chest of either of the men.

"Big manly men, all attacking lil ole me?" She batted her eyes. "Oh, heyulp!"

Crabbe was the first to attack.

Before ten seconds had passed, his nose was broken, as was his jaw, one wrist snapped and one shoulder dislocated. Several ribs had been cracked, his head thrust through a shop window and he was sent flying halfway down the street with one savage kick to the gut.

Smashing into a wall, he slumped down on the ground, unconscious.

The pale-faced man seemed to have gone even paler, backing away and trying to make an escape down an alley as Goyle charged in with a bellow of fury for the condition his partner in crime had been left in.

Several swift blows, two roundhouse kicks and a powerful uppercut directly under the immense jaw of the huge man laid him out and he seemed to fall back in slow motion, his face puffy with bruises.

Crashing to the pavement, he lay, limp and unconscious.

The third of the number was about to run down the nearest alley, when a lithe figure used a nearby lamp post to flip over him and landed on her feet in front of him, dusting herself down with a small smile.

"Leaving so soon?"

He raised his wand, but she noticed his hand was shaking. "Avada..."

"I don't think so." A swift motion disarmed him and Buffy casually looped an arm around his waist, squeezing him tightly enough for the ribs to start cracking under the pressure, the skin bruising. He released a whimper. "You know," She smiled brightly up at him. "I think you and me are going to have a nice little talk, don't you?"

A panic-stricken look crossed his face. "You can't lay a finger on me, Muggle." He hissed.

"I don't intend to lay a finger on you." She replied. Relief spread across his features and the Slayer smirked. "A fist maybe, or even a boot, but never a finger..." The relief faded as her arm tightened and several ribs clicked. "I think we're going to be best friends, after this..."

"You'll never get away with..." He trailed off with a cry of pain as she squeeze a tiny bit harder and made his ribs move agonisingly beneath his skin.

Steering the mumbling young man down a deserted alleyway, Buffy chuckled coolly. "You wouldn't believe how many people have said that to me." She murmured. "And you wouldn't believe how many times I have got away with it."

"I'll pay you..."

"They tried that too." She sighed. "That's the funny thing about me...I seem to be the most unbribable girl in the world."

"Just don't hurt me."

This time, Buffy did look at him coldly and said, her voice venomous. "After what you just tried to do?" The smile on her lips was the one that made vampires and demons run in terror. "I won't hurt you." A solid uppercut to the gut doubled him over. She looked down at him with cold disgust. "Much."


Chapter 12: Friends & Family

"So you found your way back all right?"

"Actually, found my way to the bench and pretty much stayed here." Oz smiled faintly up at Giles, who was weighted down with a handful of bags from the magic supplies shop. "You know you're going to get arrested for all that stuff, right?"

The former Watcher chuckled. "Well, it has been a while since I updated my criminal record."

"Not quite the reassurance I was looking for. You seen Anya and Xander?"

The older man grinned slightly. "Something tells me that we're not going to see them again, until all the shops are closed." He replied, freezing when someone tapped him once one each shoulder, then poked him in the middle of the back. "If you remember that..."

The former Watcher's bags were dropped in Oz's arms and he swung around with a savage haymaker, which Arthur Weasley quickly ducked under, before both men straightened up, laughing and embraced one another. "How could I forget that?"

"Don't tell me that's the normal wizard way to say hello." Willow muttered.

"You're saying that our dad is a normal wizard? Or Mr. Giles?" Ginny laughed, shaking her head. "I'm guessing that that was their... er... equivalent of a secret handshake, when they were at school."

"After seeing what Giles does to Ethan whenever they see each other," The younger girl stated. "It doesn't surprise me at all."

"Look at you, Arthur! I thought you looked bald in the fire, but this!" Giles exclaimed, reaching up to tap on Mr. Weasley's bald palate. "This is just bloody priceless! There are charms to stop balding you know...just look at old Dumble! He never did bother uncharming himself."

"This coming from you, with your receding hairline? And the short hair I might add!" Arthur laughed, shaking his head at his old friend. "What happened to the 'I'm-always-going-to-have-long-hair-and-sod-the- consequences'?"

"Council sent a demon after me." Giles grinned faintly. "It was a choice of give him my hair or let him take my head. Since I have this peculiar attachment to my head..."

"Its called a neck, Ripper."

"I am aware of that." A broad grin crossed the former Watcher's face, and he clapped the balding Arthur on the shoulder. "God, its good to see you again! Its been too long since we insulted each other properly."

"Nice to see that some things never change with you lot." Molly remarked with a smile. Giles spun and stared down at her, a strange emotion crossing his face. "Good to see you again, Rupert." She approached and hugged him. "Its been a long time."

He gazed down at her. "It has." He murmured, then shook himself and looked around to Willow, smiling again. "So, Willow, what do you think of this insane family of yours? Are you ready to do the respectable thing and throw yourself under a bus?"

"They're great." She shot a grin at her twin, the around at the group behind her. "I'll probably still get everyone mixed up for a while. I mean, one brother is a lot for me to take in, but actually having six to remember..."

"Plus, Fred and George aren't exactly going to help." Bill gave his youngest sister's shoulder a squeeze. "Just remember that Bill is the good- looking one." He peered past Giles, to the spot where Oz had just stood up, putting Giles' bags onto the bench. "Hi."

"Hey." The werewolf rounded Giles.

Willow moved to his side, looping her arm through his. "Everyone, this is Oz, my boyfriend."

"The werewolf..." Percy breathed, staring at him.

"Well, human for most of the time." Oz shrugged. "They're all your brothers?" He nodded to the red-haired men. They all eyed the short, green- haired man with interest, their curiousity only matched by Oz's own. "Huh."

"Yep." Willow grinned.

Oz nodded. "Quite a few of them, huh?"

"Don't brother-in-laws get a say?" A deep voice remarked from near the group and Ginny squealed, as her husband stepped behind her and caught her around the waist, hoisting her off her feet.

"Harry! Put me down!"

"No!" Fred and George yelled in mock-despair, clapping the backs of their hands to their foreheads in an overly dramatic gesture of horror. "Don't say the name aloud! We'll have the reporters all over us again!" One of them grinned at the other. "You know, we might have to start calling him You-Know-Who now, so no one'll annoy us for autographs."

Ginny scowled at her brothers. "That's not funny." She struggled out of her husband's arms and steered him around to face Willow. "Willow, this is my husband, Harry Potter. Harry, this is Willow, my sister."

The youngest Weasley couldn't help staring at the man she had read so much about. As it had been in the books, his black hair was unruly and sticking up in all directions with a distinctly wind-swept look. Brilliant green eyes glinted from behind gold-framed glasses, a cheerful smile on his open face.

He was wearing casual muggle clothing, a pair of black jeans and a blood red and gold rugby shirt that, on closer inspection, transpired to actually be a Gryffindor shirt, complete with embroidered badge on the left breast pocket.

Thrusting a hand towards her, he shook her trembling one. "Nice to meet you, Willow." He said, his smile doing little to calm her nerves. She could easily see why her sister had fallen for the striking Wizard.

"L-likewise."

"Let me guess..." Raising his hand, he pushed his hair back from his forehead, revealing the still-clear lightening-shaped scar. "You wanted to see it, didn't you?" She nodded, then looked down at his shirt again.

A wrinkle furrowed her brow. "Is that normal part of the school uniform?"

"This? Nah. Its the merchandise for the Rawlings books." He shook his head. "You should some of the merchandise they came up with. I didn't even get any credit, but I still went out and bought the stuff." He grinned. "Imagine that. Harry Potter going into a shop and buying Harry Potter merchandise...sounds a bit cheesy, eh?" He touched the badge on the pocket. "I couldn't resist though."

"Excuse me," A rough, accented voice put in. "Can you not block the path, please?"

Harry rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder. "Viktor, if you wanted in on the introductions, you just had to ask."

"No," A slightly shorter, darker young man stepped around Harry with a suggestion of a smile on his surly face. "I am needing to go to the Quidditch shop before it closes." He shook Harry's hand once, gave Willow a cursory look and moved away into the crowds. "I will be seeing you at training, yes?"

"Unless I decide to go on another Honeymoon!" Harry called after him.

"And I will beat you with your own broomstick, Potter!" The Quidditch player called back.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Typical Viktor." He remarked. "He is right, though. We should probably sit down somewhere, so we're not blocking the road." He motioned to the cafe behind them. "Shall we?"

It took a good deal of negotiation and fighting with the charmed tables that didn't want to be pushed together.

Eventually, though, all ten Weasleys, Harry, Oz and Giles had managed to wedge themselves around the four chastised tables. The family barely able to breathe from being squashed together, but they were all laughing and chatting anyway.

A chair or two had been saved for the missing members of the group, but Giles insisted that Anya was unlikely to show up again, until she had spent the whole sack of money she had taken from Gringotts.

As for the whereabouts of Buffy, none of them dared to even guess.

***
Almost an hour after he had told her to meet them back at the cafe, the petite blonde Slayer sauntered up, humming cheerfully to herself. Her shirt was mussed and wrinkled with smudges of dirt on it, her hair tangled.

"Hey Giles!" Swinging into the vacant chair between Giles and Oz, she looked around at the Weasleys, who were all gazing at her with polite confusion. "Uh, hi Willow's family." She nodded around at them.

"You must be...Buffy?" Molly hazarded with a tentative smile.

"Yep! That's me! Slaygal and all that." Charlie, Ron, Fred and George - who hadn't bothered looking at the photographs of Willow and her friends before they met their sister - stared at her in astonishment. Buffy gave them a lop-sided grin. "I guess you were expecting someone bigger, huh?"

"Ron thought you'd be as big as a football... er...rugby player." Willow said, her eyes dancing. Ron blushed crimson to the roots of his hair, ducking his head over his drink.

"What can I say?" Buffy claimed a bottle of some kind of drink from the middle of the table and examined it, before easily flicking the lid off and drinking some. "Good and super-powerful things come in small packages."

"You're really the Slayer?" Charlie was staring at her. "I mean, you're the one that goes around, bumping off the things that go bump in the night?"

Buffy nodded, flashing a grin at Ron, who - if possible - went even redder. "That's me." She replied. "At least six halted Apocalypses under my belt already." A frown crossed her brow, as she accepted a chunk of toffee from one of the twins. "Or would it be Apocalypsoes...Giles? Whats the plural of apocalypse?"

Giles, though, was suspiciously eyeing a reddish smudge on the short sleeve of the Slayer's shirt. "Buffy, is this blood?"

"Hmm?" She finished the piece of toffee, looked at her Watcher, then down at the patch. "Oh. Yeah." She licked at her teeth trying to dislodge a sticky piece of toffee, then added. "Don't worry. Its not mine."

"What do you..." Before Giles could finish the question, Buffy had turned into a large, fluffy, white kitten. A puzzled-sounding mew escaped her. Giles blinked as the kitten hopped into his lap. "Oh dear God..."

A puff of white fur exploded over him and he found full-sized Buffy sitting in his lap, looking rather startled and confused. The Weasley boys tried to hold in their laughter, but Fred and George fell against each other, chortling.

"Uh...why am I in your lap, Giles?" The Slayer peered down then looked up at her Watcher. "I was just a cat, wasn't I?" She hastily extricated herself from the fur and her Watcher's lap, sitting back on her seat and brushing fur from her shoulders. "Well, that was fun."

Giles raised a brow. "Are you going to-to-to tell me who the blood belongs to?"

"You really want to know?"

"Actually, yes." He gave her the familiar severe look usually reserved for when she was in serious trouble and she grinned weakly at him. "You've been here less than eight hours and I don't want you being arrested or anything like that."

"Here's the thing...he started it....well, he made them start it and..." She sighed, rubbing her head. "Okay, start at the beginning. I got lost in all the streets and ended up in somewhere called Knockdown Alley? Is that right?"

"Knockturn alley?"

"That's it!"

Giles groaned inwardly. Possibly the worst place for any muggle to end up. "What happened?"

Every one of the Weasleys seemed to be fascinated as well. Buffy rubbed at the smudge on her sleeve and pulled a face.

"I was trying to find my way back and come guys came out one of the stores. Two of them looked like that Frankenstein guy from High-school and the other one with a vamp-pale face wouldn't tell me how to get back here."

"So you beat it out of them?" Giles smothered a moan.

"No!" The Slayer looked indignant. "I was being nice to them, until Paleface decided to tell me he didn't like muggles."

"Just a second...what did this guy look like?" Harry asked.

Buffy shrugged. "Tall, thin, pale, pointy face, expensive black coat- thing, looked like he could smell something bad." She grinned weakly. "I thought he was a vamp at first, cos he didn't really look human."

"You don't think..."

Ron's eyes were sparkling with glee. "Malfoy." Leaning over the table, even more interested, he asked. "What happened next?" He looked far too excited about it. "Did you beat him up and teach him a lesson?"

"I think he was trying to hit on me, but he wasn't very good at it.." The Slayer pulled a face at the memory of his cool fingers on her cheek. "I told him to get lost and he did some kind of spell with his wand."

"A spell on you?" Arthur sat up anxiously.

"Yeah, but I broke his nose." She smiled brightly. "I did warn him not to touch me or I'd break all his fingers." She shrugged with mock-innocence. "I seemed to have accidentally missed his fingers and hit his nose instead."

"So that was when he bled on you?" Ron asked hopefully, face alight. "When you smashed the git's nose?"

Buffy shook her head. "That was when he set his two big pet poodles on me." She replied, grimacing. "I've fought vamps bigger than them, but I never thought human guys as thick as that would attack a girl."

"Crabbe and Goyle..." Harry murmured. "We went to school with them and they never actually hit anyone..."

"They didn't actually hit me either. They tried, but they didn't manage." The Slayer said. "If they had been able to, I would have been one dead Slayer a long time ago. If I can't fight two humans, I would never be able to fight groups of demons."

"So," Her Watcher was looking pale. "Not only did you get lost in Knockturn Alley, but you beat up two wizards as well."

"Three wizards." Buffy looked down at her hands, then cried out in annoyance. "Damnit! They broke my nails!"

"Three?" Giles asked faintly.

"Well, the blond guy tried to run off, after his boys didn't manage to beat me up." A cool smile crossed her lips. "I taught him to be more polite to muggles." She paused, then added pensively. "Broke every one of his fingers as well." There was a pause. "Maybe a few ribs as well. And his nose, of course."

"Oh dear God..." Giles moaned burying his head in his arms. "I'm going to exiled for bringing a maniac in here."

"Well, they did start it, Giles." Buffy remarked calmly, wiping at the blood on her sleeve with a napkin. "I dumped them all in the nearest trash cans and that's when I ended up with the blood on my shirt." She raised her eyes. "Lets just call it the revenge of the Muggles." She gave up on the stain. "They deserved all they got for what they were going to do."

"What d-d-do you mean?"

"Well, they said I was a pretty muggle and that muggles could be used for killing or for some kind of entertainment." She said, her voice cool and level. "Something tells me that they weren't going to make me sing Karaoke for them."

"Make you?" Arthur and Giles both seemed to go rigid, Bill drawing a sharp breath between his teeth. Molly's hand came to her mouth and she shook her head. Shocked looks passed between the rest of the family, Willow, Oz and Buffy looking confused.

"Buffy," Giles seemed to have gone very pale. "Can you remember the words of the spell he used on you?"

"Uh..." The Slayer frowned. "Imperial? Umpire? Something like that?"

"Imperio." Arthur whispered shakily.

"That's it!" Buffy nodded, grinning. Then, she noticed the grim expressions on the faces around her. "Uh...I guess that's bad?"

"Its one of the unforgivable curses." Arthur said tightly, one of his hands curling into a fist on the table. "It's meant to be illegal for any Wizard to perform them, but some still do and seldom get caught..."

"Uh...why unforgivable?" The Slayer asked, curious. "It wasn't a real big deal." She marked off the actions on her fingers. "I told him not to touch me, he did the hocus pocus, then I broke his nose when he touched me again."

"You fought the Imperio curse?"

Buffy gave her watcher a patient look. "Giles, you know I've seen what badness spells can do. Remember the whole Vamp-Willow thing?" Willow went crimson, ducking her head quickly. "I know what its like, I know its not right, plus the guy was so sleazy I didn't want him touching me." She made a backwards, upwards jabbing motion with her elbow. "Cracked his nose and he looked like he was in shock. I guess not many people do that, huh?"

"We wouldn't even have the evidence to arrest him..." Arthur said grimly.

"You mean if I said that they did something to me, no one would believe it?"

Molly nodded, touching her husband's hand to calm him. "I'm afraid so, Buffy." She said, her face pale. "Even if we conjured the previous spell performed by his wand, he's experienced enough to know to do at least half a dozen other spells to nullify the evidence."

"I'm guessing that means I shouldn't have broken his wand, huh?"

"You...broke his wand?"

Buffy grinned weakly. "Uh...sometimes I forget how strong I was..." She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. "He was saying Avara or something like that and I didn't really wanna be at the receiving end of another spell."

"Avada Kedavra...my God...surely he wouldn't..." Giles shook his head in horror. He seemed unable to grasp what he had just been told. "Buffy, do you realise that he was about to perform the killing curse on you?"

The Slayer raised a brow. "Its not like people haven't done stuff like that before."

"No, Buffy, you don't understand this." The former Watcher's face was as pale as Molly and Arthur's. "The killing curse can't be stopped by anything. Not even being the Slayer could save you from it. Only one person has ever survived it in wizarding history." He nodded to Harry.

The blonde seemed completely unruffled by what she had just been told. "I'm still alive, so no biggie." She shrugged, drinking another mouthful of butterbeer.

"Is she always this calm?" Arthur marveled.

"Normally she walks out of a fight with a few bumps and bruises." Giles murmured, looking affectionately in the blonde's direction. "This has been a good day for her."

"Someone trying to kill you is a good day?" Ron stared at her.

Buffy laughed. "People, usually vampires and demons and things, try and kill me every day, so this was just a regular day for me." She replied, raising her bottle to take another drink, but pausing. "Actually, that was a quiet afternoon."

"So Malfoy's wand was broken?" Arthur asked quickly.

"Yup." Buffy smirked. "Both of them." Every man at the table winced. "I thought you might wanna have a look at it, in case he was going to get in trouble." Reaching behind her back, she withdrew a handful of splinters and a stake. Picking out several pieces, she handed them across the table to Mr. Weasley.

Bill eyed the stake. "So that's what you use to kill the vampires?"

"Yeah," Buffy looked at the stake with a faint smile. "My boring stick."

"May I?" The Slayer nodded, handing the stake over to the oldest Weasley. "Man... you kill demons with a little thing like this?" Buffy nodded wryly. "Remind me never to get on the bad side of you."

"Like Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy?" Ron couldn't help sniggering, despite the severe looks on his family's faces.

Bill nodded. "Exactly."


Chapter 13: Fond Farewells

"You sure you're going to be okay, Will?"

The pack of semi-magical beings were gathered on the pavement outside the front door of The Leaky Cauldron, cases, bags and boxes being loaded into the back of a single black cab.

Buffy had already dived briefly into the cab to claim one of the fold-down seats, before jumping back out to say her farewells to her friend, much to the amusement of the cabbie.

The youngest Weasley nodded, embracing her friend tightly. "I'll be fine," She looked back at her parents, standing in the doorway of the Leaky Cauldron and smiled. "Mom and dad'll make sure I'm okay."

"They better," the Slayer gave them a look, then smiled faintly. "Sorry I couldn't stay longer, but duty calls..."

"And you were asked to leave the area," Anya put in helpfully. “I don’t they that the nice wizards were very pleased that you beat some of them up, although that white haired one was annoying and I think I would like to hit him.”

She was wearing a new set of expensive, fashionable clothing, her highlighted hair done stylishly and expensive jewellery visible at her neck and her ears. Several rings lined her hands.

Next to her, Xander looked scruffier than ever, wearing his multi-layers of baggy t-shirt and shirts, that hung passed the waistband of his loose jeans, the frayed ends of which trailed along the pavement.

If anything, they looked an even odder couple than before.

That was clearly something, which was beginning to rankle Anya. She had tried to gently suggest that her boyfriend would looks less...cheap if he went and bought himself some decent clothes.

Unfortunately, Xnader was comfortable the way he was.

The mild bickering had exploded in a blazing row several days before, which had come to a head when Anya had stormed out of their room and down to the pub, where she proceeded to get very drunk and terrified Tom with stories of her life.

She was still there when Professor Dumbledore had shown up to save the barman’s sanity, letting her pour forth her woes on his sympathetic ears, before seeing her back to her room, where Xander was waiting with an apology for upsetting her.

It was simply very sad, the old wizard had noted to the muggle, that yet another difference had been forced between them, when they were finally overcoming the obstacles that had caused them so many problems already.

Xander had been unable to disagree.

In this case, it was the money.

Apparently her witch's fortune, amassed over a millennium, had left her incredibly wealthy, barely a handful of the gold coins paying for a whole new wardrobe and four full vaults still waited to be tested to their limits, while Xander lived in a basement and worked in low-paid part-time jobs.

A full sack of gleaming golden Galleons had been hauled up to the muggle- wizard currency exchange, near the entrance to Diagon Alley and the small, squat Wizard in the booth had almost wept when he saw how much she had wanted converted.

He had tried to convince her that she didn’t need as much, but an hour long lecture from the former vengeance demon had otherwise convinced him that she did need all the money and that she needed it now.

She had got it, as well, in time for their departure, which was - as she had pointed out - due to Buffy being evicted from the magical area.

"Well, yeah..." Buffy reluctantly admitted.

It had taken almost a week for any wizard in the Ministry to get up enough nerve to actually dare to approach her after the incident with Malfoy and his two cronies in Knockturn Alley.

"No one told me I wasn't allowed to kick his ass again, though..."

The most recent Minister of Magic, Aristotle Wilson, had eventually been informed of what had happened and – although the smashed wand of Malfoy provided some feeble evidence against the arrogant young wizard – he had solemnly told the Slayer that she would have to leave Diagon Alley, after complaints about her behaviour from a Mr. Malfoy and friends.

Standing in the private parlour, beside the fireplace, he had been accompanied by the cool-faced Malfoy. The Minister had been sincere and genuinely apologetic about everything, making Malfoy utter a thoroughly unconvincing apology to her.

She had accepted the reasoning given to her, warmly smiling at the Minister and cheerfully saying that she was just doing what she thought was her duty. The Minister had seemed very surprised by her attitude, clearly expecting her to react violently and unreasonably.

The young man with the cold smile and pointed face had been sneering at her, as the Minister left with an apologetic look on his face. The Minister had also added – sweetly, she thought – that she would no doubt be welcome, again, under less fraught circumstances.

However, as soon as the charming older Wizard had departed the room, Malfoy had strutted across the room as if he owned it, towards her and made some pointed remark about muggles going back to where they belonged and directed a very insulting comment at her.

It was a stupid thing to do.

Of course, that was a second before she knocked half his teeth out.

Giles could not have been more relieved that his wand was functioning once again, freezing her with an Impedimenta spell, before she could do more damage to the young man sprawled on the floor at her feet.

"Take a hint, Malfoy," he said coldly, down to the youth, who was scowling up at him. "You've made an enemy of the Slayer and when you make an enemy of the Slayer, you've made an enemy of her friends too. Powerful friends at that." His smile was cold and chilling. "You don't want to be on her bad side. Or mine."

"The Slayer? Do you think I'm stupid?" Malfoy had spat disdainfully, wiping trickles blood from his mouth and wincing. "Everyone knows she's just a legend conjured up by Wizards to stupify stupid muggles."

"If that's the case," the former Watcher had smirked. "Explain how this sweet little muggle with no magical abilities kicked the arses of you and your friends."

"We were drunk," Malfoy said quickly, a little too quickly. "We fell over, before she touched us, but this was the easiest way for us to get rid of her." There was a flash from Giles' wand that had sounded as a resounding crack, sending Malfoy hurtling against the musty, yellowing wall and pinning him there.

"She," He said quietly, holding the younger Wizard against the wall with the spell and pointing to Buffy. "is the Slayer. She is under my care and protection and she has friends you really wouldn't want to piss off if you had half a brain cell. I would have thought your dear daddy would have taught you not to pick on people more powerful than you."

"See me quaking, old man," Malfoy was dropped to the floor in a tangled heap of robes.

Giles had smiled down at him. "You should, you stupid little boy," he said, his voice carrying a dangerous note. Bending and catching the youth's arm, the former Librarian gripped it tightly as he hauled him upright. "You have no idea what you're dealing with," His wand seemed to have vanished, as his fist met the young man's jaw. "And don't insult her again," he added, releasing Malfoy's arm and letting him fall to the floor, leaning heavily against the wall. "It's frightfully rude."

Picking up the frozen Slayer under his arm, he had hastily carried her – unprotesting for once – out of the quiet room, before she broke through the spell and went back to finish the job.

The last thing he had seen, when he shut the door, was Draco Malfoy scowling darkly after them.

Xander laughed weakly. "Buffy, you really have a way with people,"

He was helping Giles to load the black cab up. The Englishman's supplies included numerous brown paper bags, knotted in the corners, and parcels wrapped in brown paper and bound with string, containing all manner of herbs and items for potions.

"Hey, Giles was the one who broke his jaw," The Slayer pouted, but it gave way to a wry grin.

"That might have been the case," Pushing a large, canvas satchel into the boot between two cases, Giles straightened up and adjusted his glasses. "But I-I-I still claim that I had a-a perfectly good reason for responding with violence."

"Yeah...you didn't like the guy," Buffy replied for him.

Willow couldn't help laughing. "You guys are terrible."

"But you're going to miss us, right?" the blonde said.

"How could I not?" Willow's eyes filled with tears. "Its going to be so weird...a slay-free summer for me..." She hugged her friend tightly. "You don't get killed or anything! I'll be writing to you all the time."

"What about me?" Xander opened his arms and promptly found them full of half-laughing, half-crying red-haired Witch.

"Of course I'm going to miss you, Xan," She hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hey!" Anya protested, grabbing Xander's arm to pull him back from the red head. "You already have a cute werewolf boyfriend. Leave mine alone!" Both Xander and Willow looked at her and she gave him a sheepish look. "Oh...right. Saying farewell doesn't mean you want to date her. I forgot."

"Its okay, Anya."

"It...it is?"

Willow nodded. "He is your boyfriend, after all," To the former demon's surprise, she – too – received a warm hug from the Witch. "Look after him, okay?"

"Okay!" Anya nodded enthusiastically. "Now I'm glad I got a present for you, since we're leaving you behind."

She vanished back into the Leaky Cauldron for several seconds, Willow suddenly very nervous. The millennium-old girl may have been around for a while, but her gifts tended to be... outlandish at the best of times.

"Xander...?" Willow began to ask, but the look on his face said he had less idea than she had.

Emerging, a large cube-shaped bundle almost obscuring her face, Anya eagerly thrust it into Willow's hands, the bright green wrapping bound with a gaudy golden bow. "Be careful!" she added quickly. "You don't want to break it."

"Can I open it now?"

"Of course," She gave her boyfriend a coy look, as she added, "I want to see you pretend to be pleased with it, like Xander does when I give him a gift."

Even more dubious, the youngest Weasley sat down on the step of The Leaky Cauldron, her parents standing just inside the door, and ripped the paper off the large object, which transpired to be a brass cage, complete with a...

"Oh my God!" Willow squealed. "An owl! You got me an owl!"

"I know I did," Anya nodded patiently. "That's what I asked the shop keeper for. I would have been very irritated if he had given me a cat."

"Wow! Anya! This is great!"

The sandy-haired girl looked surprised. "You do like it?"

"Its perfect," Willow was staring in at the small barn owl that was blinking at her out of large, golden eyes. Placing the cage on the step, she stood and quickly hugged the former demon again. "Its great! Thank you so much!"

A pleased look spread across Anya's face. "Xander," she murmured, when Willow stepped back from her. "I'm feeling strange...all tingly and warm. Is it normal to feel like that when you give a gift and someone reacts correctly to it?"

"Yeah, honey," Xander nodded, hugging her.

"Ah. I think I like it," She gave the witch a faint smile. "You have no excuse not to write to us now, Willow," she said, her voice filled with mischief. "You can write and tell us how much you miss us all and how bad the weather is."

"Don't worry," Willow smiled back. "I will."

The couple got into the cab after one last hug, followed by Buffy.

A cry from inside the bar made the blonde freeze and she looked around as Tom hurried out, something large and round held under his arm. "Miss Summers! I hoped I would catch you before you left!"

"Hi Tom." She smiled up at him from inside the cab.

"I hear you made a friend while you were here," He brought the round object in front of him, revealing the mirror from her bedroom. "Um...Bob insisted that he wished to join you on the way back to America."

"You're letting me take Bob?" A delighted look crossed the Slayer's face. "I thought he wasn't allowed to leave."

"Well, a mirror singing 'Nine hundred and ninety nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine green bottles standing on the wall' for an hour without ceasing does tend to change your mind, although I would understand if you wish to leave it," Tom gave the mirror a dark look, when it giggled. "I hope you're very happy together."

Buffy accepted the large, round mirror with an ecstatic grin. "Thanks!" She reached up to kiss Tom on the cheek. He blushed to the tips of his ears. “And don’t worry about Bob. It’ll behave.”

"You might have to shrink it a little to get on the hair-o-plans." He added in an undertone. "And if he annoys you, you could always break him. Into a lot of small pieces. Really."

Buffy patted the mirror fondly. "I don't think I'll be needing to do that, Tom," she said with a wide smile. "Will, I, Bob?"

"You are the fairest of them all, Buffy."

"See, Tom," Buffy grinned again. "We understand each other perfectly. Nothing to worry about," Tom shook his head and chuckled to himself before turning and hurrying back into The Leaky Cauldron.

Standing beside the cab, Giles paused to embrace the youngest Weasley. "You have fun for the summer, Willow," he said softly. "Molly and Arthur...they're good people. They'll take care of you."

"I know, Giles," she replied quietly, holding onto him for a long moment. After all, he was a surrogate father to her an now, he was going to be...gone. "Look after the others for me, okay?"

He nodded once, joining the trio in the cab, as Oz slowly approached her, taking both her hands in his. "You're going to be fine here, Will," he said, his voice as low and calm as ever. "You know where to find me, if you need me to come."

"Back to Tibet, huh?"

He had spent several months there in the previous year, learning to control the wolf in him - during their temporary separation after the Verruca incident - and they had discussed the idea of him going back, to complete the training he could receive.

"No time like the present," He gave her the smile that only he could.

Tears seeped from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks, as she kissed him fiercely. Pulling him close to her, she pressed her face against his neck, hugging him tightly. "I'm going to miss you, Oz. I'm going to miss you so much."

"Likewise," he murmured against her cheek. "You just learn magic, Will. I'll be back before you know it," Drawing back from her, he kissed her gently, once more. "Enjoy your time with your family," he said softly. "I love you."

"Likewise," That drew a small smile from him, as he reluctantly backed into the cab, his fingers lingeringly touching her. "Bye, Oz."

Tears were streaming down her face and her parents moved forward to embrace her comfortingly, as the door of the taxi cab shut and her friends waved through the windows, the engine starting.

Waving until the cab vanished around a corner, Willow hastily wiped her face with the back of her shaking hands.

"Are you all right, dear?" Molly asked, touching her daughter's shoulder.

"Yeah...I think so."

When her mother gently drew her into her arms, the tears Willow thought she had managed to quell started afresh and she felt Molly's hand gently stroking her hair and heard her mother's voice murmuring comfortingly.

***

After almost an hour of arranging herself and making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, Willow joined her parents by the fire in the parlour, wondering what they were going to do about travelling back to their home.

She didn't even know where that home was.

Yes, she had read about it in the books, but she wasn’t exactly sure of where it was located, in relation to Diagon Alley.

"Ready, dear?" Molly asked, smiling.

Willow looked down at the dish of silvery-green powder her mother was offering her. "Uh...huh?"

"Floo powder." Arthur explained, dashing a handful of the stuff into the crackling flames, in the wide fireplace. They immediately sprang higher, turning a brilliant green colour. "You throw some in, step into the fire and say where you want to go."

"We're going to 'The Burrow'." Mrs. Weasley reminded her. Her father took her bags and her owl with a smile. "You father'll show you what to do and then we can follow him."

They both watched as Mr. Weasley stepped into the flames and loudly and clearly called out "The Burrow" before vanishing in a whooshing swirl of green smoke and flame, along with all of Willow's possessions.

"Does it hurt?" Willow inquired, nervously eyeing the flames that had turned back to their normal colour. They looked a bit too hot and fiery for her liking and she really didn’t want to step into them.

"Not at all dear." Molly replied, offering the pot again. "Just speak clearly and you'll get there right away."

Hesitantly, Willow took a handful of the green, dust-like powder and tossed it into the fire, stepping in quickly. The flames ticklishly licked her ankles, ash and smoke making her eyes water, but she called out as loudly as she could.

"The Burrow!"


Chapter 14: The Burrow

Willow felt sick.

She felt really, really sick.

Her whole world was spinning and even if she opened her eyes a crack, she knew she would spew all over the place and since she was flying through some kind of fireplace-portal-thing, it probably wasn’t a good thing.

A jarring thump of something hard against her head made her open her eyes in panic, the second before she flopped out of a copper-framed fireplace and onto a black and white floor.

“Willow!” one voice yelled.

A second voice added approvingly, “You made it!”

Two pairs of hands caught her by the arms, hauling her to her feet.

“First time and everything!” another voice said as she felt a rough brush dust down her clothing. Squinting between ash-crusted lashes, she saw a flash of red hair, but couldn’t decide if it was hers, one of her siblings’ or even one of her parents’.

She was dropped into a seat, still trying to get herself orientated. A wand tapped her firmly on the head and suddenly, she could open her eyes.

Fred and George were standing over her, both grinning broadly, and Ron plopped himself down in one of the spare chairs, blowing ash off the brush he had dusted her down with.

“All right, Will?” he inquired, tossing the brush over his head and punching the air triumphantly when it landed in a bucket beside the sink. “Thought you might be a bit squiffy after coming by floo...”

Swallowing down the nauseous feeling she had, Willow nodded, but didn’t dare open her mouth unless she was sick.

“Just take a minute to get your breath back, Willow,” her father said and smiled slightly as he disappeared through the door into the hall with her bags, her oldest brother aiding him.

Looking around, she found herself sitting at a fairly small table that could fit six people around it at most, in a small, cosy kitchen with wooden cupboards lining most of the wall space.

The most noticeable thing, though, was a large Grandfather clock standing in the corner of the room, with numerous gleaming gold hands and no numbers visible on the face whatsoever.

All of them – except one – was pointed at the word ‘Home’ on the face, but that single hand was moving rapidly to join the others. There was a loud ping from the clock and she turned to see her mother roll out of the hearth and land on her feet.

Pointing her wand at herself, the dust exploded off Molly’s clothing in a puff of green and grey and she sighed. “That’s better,” She gave Willow a smile. “I see you arrived safe and well.”

“She hasn’t spoken yet, mum. I think she’s in shock.”

“Do you blame me?” Willow looked up with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I mean, your faces are the first things I saw when I opened my eyes. That’s enough to shock anyone!”

“Yeah!” Fred preened. “What with our stunning good looks and all.”

“I’m thinking more of terror,” Willow pulled a face. “Not even vampires could make me stop speaking with shock...although there was this one time when a great big one tried... er...never mind...” She looked up at Molly. “Can you show me around, mom?”

“Why don’t we do that?” George offered with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Fred added. “We could introduce her to the ghoul in the attic. They’d get on very well.”

Ron chuckled at the nervous expression on Willow’s face. “Don’t worry about those two,” he said, giving his elder twins a warning look. “They know that if they annoy you, I’ll annoy them.”

Fred and George both shut up very quickly, scowling mutinously at their younger brother, who merely grinned at them as he got to his feet, towering over both of them and his younger sister.

“How about I show Willow around, mum? You can have a cup of tea and take the weight off your feet, eh?”

Molly raised a brow slowly. “What are you up to, Ronald?”

“Me, mum?” He gave her a completely innocent grin, which did nothing to calm her suspicions. “Absolutely nothing.” He looked to his brothers. “Am I?” They muttered something unintelligible, which was probably just as well. “C’mon, Will. I’ll show you the room Bill and Percy added for you.”

Willow gave him a suspicious look. “Added...?”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Looping an arm through hers, Ron led her towards the door of the kitchen, leaving Molly squirting soap from her wand into her elder sons’ mouths for swearing. “We had five bedrooms, but since you’ve come to visit, all of the unhitched family members want to hang around and see what you’re like.”

“Uh...huh...”

“So, since that means there would be all of us, except Ginny and Bill, it would be a bit of a squash, with there being eight of us...” He gave her a grin. “So, we stuck another bedroom on the side of the house, especially for you...and Ginny, if you don’t mind sharing when she drops in. She’s never had a sister before and she kinda wants to see what you’re like.”

“When you say stuck on...”

“Oh, we used spellotape and some kind of glue,” His teeth flashed. “Don’t worry. It’s very sticky. I don’t think it’ll fall off any time soon…George bet it would last a week. I give it two.”

The youngest Weasley blanched. “S-spellotape and glue?” Ron glanced down at her, then laughed.

“I’m joking, Will.”

“Oh...right...” She squeaked in surprise when her year older brother grabbed her in a hug that lifted her a foot off the floor. “Ron!”

He grinned again. “Don’t take things so seriously, Will,” he cautioned her as he deposited her back on the floor, looking flushed and like she needed to fall over. “It won’t do much good, especially around Fred and George.”

“Okay already!” She stepped back quickly, when he feinted to lunge in to pick her up in another hug. “See! Smiling!” She pointed at the grin that she hadn’t been able to keep from her face. “Terrified of you, but smiling!”

Ron nodded approvingly. “That’s better,” They were halfway down the hall when they heard a noise from the living room. “Oi! Ginny! Get your tongue out your husband’s mouth and help me show your sister around.”

A loud protest came from Harry a moment before Ginny exited the living room, her hair mussed and clothes rumpled, but with a broad smile on her rosy face. “Hiya, Willow,” she said.

“We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”

Ginny’s grin got a little wider and she licked her lips. “Not exactly something we haven’t done before,” she replied naughtily, smoothing down her shirt which had risen up her ribs. “Just never in the living room...”

“Oh!” Willow went pink.

“Ginny! Stop embarrassing the girl! She hasn’t been raised with six brothers!” Ron tutted down at his sister. “She has to learn to cope with being around us before we start chucking filthy meanings into everything.”

“What better way to introduce her to our way of thinking, Ron?”

Ron shook his head. “You are such a filthy little perv, Gin,” he said with a mournful sigh. “Why can’t you be more like Willow?”

“Um...well, I do have a wolfy boyfriend...”

“You ever make him...howl?”

“RON!” Ginny slapped Ron’s arm and hard.

The red-haired man laughed, his eyes dancing. “Well, I did try and behave,” he said, an apologetic grin on his face.

Willow made a squeaking sound, her face scarlet.

“I think we embarrassed her,” Ginny said.

“Naaaaaaaw,” their brother laughed, slinging his arm around Willow’s shoulders and hugging her against his side. “Come on. Let’s show her up to her room, so she knows where she can hide from us if it gets too much for her innocent head to deal with...”

Ron grabbed both of the twins by the arms, steering them quickly up the staircase that seemed to go both up and down at the same time, which disorientated the youngest of the Weasleys.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were walking at right-angles to the floor on the lower levels of The Burrow.

They had to crawl along the walls, using the banister as a climbing rail, to regain their footing at the top of the newest staircase, where Arthur was waiting for them, smiling broadly.

“I hope you like it, Willow,” he said, drawing back as they literally fell through the door and landed in a heap on the floor. “Bill and Percy wanted to make it rather special... we thought it safer to let Bill do the decorating though.”

Unsteadily getting to her feet, Willow gasped, looking around.

The room was her ideal room, similar to her room back in Sunnydale, but with wide windows looking out on the garden, a double bed beneath the windows and a beautiful desk made of what seemed to be willow wood.

The curtains and the covers on the bed were all a deep shade of magenta and a bright green beanie dragon had been placed on the pillows. Crossing the floor, Willow picked it up with a smile. “From Charlie?”

“Since he couldn’t be here,” Bill nodded, smiling.

“You guys did all this for me?” Hugging the beanie, the young witch rose on her toes and peered out of the windows at the steep drop into the garden. She could see tiny figures running around in the long grass, but couldn’t make out what they were.

Bill shrugged modestly, relieved Percy wasn’t there to boast about the design he had added. “Well, it was a choice of doing some D.I.Y. to build this or giving you a nice tent in the back garden.”

“Couldn’t we put Percy in a tent in the garden anyway?” Ron asked hopefully. “And seal it and leave him there?”

“Ron!” His father tried to sound very annoyed, but only succeeded in sounding amused. “I hope you’re joking.”

“Of course dad,” Ron gave him an innocent look. “But could you tell me where we put that old muggle tent and what the sealer spell was anyway?” He winked at Willow, his eyes dancing. “Just in case of emergencies, of course.”

“Well, if its just in case of emergencies…” Arthur sighed heavily.

***

“And when you hit one just right...” Willow made a forward jabbing motion with her fork. “Poof! The explode into dust! It makes this weird kinda rushing noise and then, poof, they’re gone!”

The Weasleys were in the living room for dinner, for a change, the only room that had enough space for all of them to sit together.

Willow and Ginny were sitting on the floor near the fireplace, their plates on trays in their laps, although Ginny had taken Willow’s glass and put it out of the way, while her twin performed re-enactments of vampire Slaying.

“When you say...poof?” Charlie was the one who asked.

“Poof, like a puff of smoke.”

Bill was snickering. “She doesn’t know...”

“Don’t know...what?”

“Poof...”

Willow’s face was an image of confused worry. “I-I know it means something in British, but I don’t know what cos I didn’t wanna ask Spike why he called Angel a magnificent poof...”

“Angel and Spike being...?”

“Vampires. Angel is the big broody one that Buffy dated and Spike is the skinny blond one who says Angel made him.”

“And this...Spike calls the big one a poof?” Willow nodded, trying to lift some peas on her fork, but they rolled off before the fork came anywhere close to her open mouth. “In that case, poof means...”

“Fred, don’t you dare...”

“Mum, if she goes to Hogwarts using the word ‘poof’ in the wrong context...”

Molly sighed. “All right, Fred, but just this once.”

“Willow,” Sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the living room with his twin, Fred placed his tray on the floor and gave his youngest sister a serious look. “We have to discuss your use of the word for froofy little gay boys...”

“WHAT!?!”

George snickered. “Poof, poofter...either way they both mean the same thing...”

“Spike was calling Angel that...?” Willow started to giggle, covering her mouth with a hand. “Omigod! Spike...he was calling Angel a...no wonder Angel tried to beat him up so often...”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know that,” Ginny remarked, chuckling.

“Personally, I can’t believe you know two vampires...” Harry said. He was sitting beside his wife, watching the animated discussion flying between the family. He liked Willow a lot. She was so very like Ginny in so many ways.

“How did you meet them?” Percy asked. He, Bill, Charlie and their parents had the seats and couches. While he still seemed a little more stuffy than the other Weasleys, he did look genuinely interested.

“Angel was kinda good-guy stalking Buffy,” Willow explained around a mouthful of steak pie. “He started helping us, then there was this whole thing where he went evil, but that’s all over now.”

“He’s the one with the soul?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Willow nodded. “Spike showed up a year after Buffy arrived in Sunnydale and he was...” She visibly shuddered. “He was scary. I mean really, really scary. On a wiggens scale of one to ten, he was way up in the tens. First time we saw him, he told Buffy he was gonna kill her.”

“He didn’t just try to do it?”

“Nope,” Willow answered. “He crashed parent-teacher night at the school and Buffy had to save us. He tried to kill her a few times, then tried to kill Angel as well, but he got his ass kicked...then Angel went evil and Spike...” She frowned. “I don’t if I believe this, but he made a deal with Buffy to save his vampire girlfriend. He helped her to beat Angel. He left after that.”

“Blimey...I’m guessing there aren’t many like that...I mean, vampires that’ll fight with the Slayer,” Charlie muttered.

“It doesn’t make him a good guy,” Willow said emphatically. “Big no on the good guy stakes. He came back the next year and kidnapped me and Xander to make me do a love-spell for him to get his girlfriend back.”

“Oh!” Molly gasped. “Did he hurt you?”

Willow shook her head. “He was...kinda drunk. He hit Xander, knocked him out...he kept me conscious...” A strange grin crossed the youngest Weasley’s face. “He had a nervous breakdown on me...”

“You what?” Fred asked.

“He started crying on my shoulder and telling me about what had happened to him and his girlfriend...okay, yeah, he was gonna bite me then, but I-I-I said I wouldn’t do the spell for him if he bit me...”

Molly had gone white. “Oh my...”

“He went to get supplies...I don’t what happened...Buffy ended up catching up with him and he left...then Oz and Cordelia found us...and then more badness...” She shuddered again. “But he was gone...and then he came back this year...”

“He better not have tried anything...”

Willow looked down at her plate. Her cheeks had gone scarlet. “Um...”

“Will?” Ron asked.

“Well, I was kinda down cos Oz and I...we were having a kinda trial separation thing... there was a whole mess with a female werewolf and I was all mopey and Spike showed up at the dorm...”

“If you say you shagged him, I’m going to be sick,” Bill stated.

“N-n-no. Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“He...he tried to bite me, I mean properly bite me...” One hand came up and touched the side of her neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared...but it was kinda...” She was blushing furiously. “It was kinda...kinky...when he didn’t manage, he...I thought there was something wrong with me...he said...he said he would have turned me in a second...he even remembered what I was wearing the year before...I mean, he noticed me and not many people had done that...”

“He would have...turned you? Turned you where?” Percy inquired carefully.

“Turned me into a vampire, doofus,” Willow said.

“Eep!”

“You...a vampire?” Ron threw back his head and started laughing. “You’d be too shy and blushy for a vampire!”

Willow’s face went beet-red. “Actually,” she mumbled. “I wouldn’t.”

“Pardon?”

“Um...seen a vampire me...”

Arthur was smiling slightly. “Ah, yes, I think Rupert told me a bit about this...”

Willow’s face was redder than her hair. “It was an accident.”

“How...?”

The youngest Weasley avoided looking at Percy. “Anya was trying to get something from an alternate dimension...the spell went wrong and vamp-me decided to pop out instead and went on a wander around Sunnydale. Buffy and Xander saw her and were totally wigged out...”

“What was she like?” Ginny asked, fascinated.

Willow pulled a face. “I don’t think crazy is nearly emphatic enough a word to describe her,” she said. “She...she was evil...skanky...a little bit gay...she wore solid black leather and I had to use her clothes as a disguise...definitely an experience that wasn’t of the good...”

“Hold on a second...” Harry said. “Did you say she was...a little bit gay?”

“Um...yeah...” Willow’s face went beetroot again. She was pushing a pea around her plate, staring at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “She...found me in the library and started licking my neck and asked if I...uh...wanted to...um...play...”

“Oh...my...gawd...” Ron gaped.

“Did you say no?”

“FRED! Of course I said no!”

“Well, it would only be like you doing yourself...”

“FREDERICK WEASLEY!”

Fred had the decency to look apologetic, for Willow’s benefit. “Um...sorry, Will, I didn’t mean that...” he waited until his mother lowered her wand. “But you were tempted, weren’t ya?”

“FRED!”

“Fred, I know you’re my brother and I’m starting to see you’re a pervert, I’m really not into the whole necrophilia thing, as much as you seem to like it...” Fred’s jaw dropped at the innocent tone in Willow’s voice. She smirked at him.

“Hey! I don’t like that kind of stuff!”

Willow gave him an innocent look that the family had only seen on Ginny, when she had wandered out of her husband’s bed, first thing in the morning. “And if you keep saying that, you’ll believe it one day...”

“Willow...”

“Don’t ‘Willow’ me, mister. I know Xander and I knew Jesse. You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to really embarrass me.”

Fred raised a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“You bet it is, Mister!” Fred turned to his twin, who smirked. “And that goes for you, too George.”

“Give us time, Will...”

Willow, in a gesture of maturity, stuck her tongue out.

“Love you too, Will...”

Unseen by their children, Molly and Arthur exchanged smiles as the bantering continued. Their last and final child had come home and she was already fitting in better than they had ever imagined.


Chapter 15: The Wicked Witch

"So was this a case of self-transfiguration?"

Dumbledore nodded, regarding the rat sitting on the workbench between them. Back at the School early, Professors McGonogall, Sprout and Snape had come to aid him in an attempt to help Willow's childhood friend.

"Apparently, she and the Slayer were about to be burned at the stake by a demon-controlled rabble of muggles and she escaped by transfiguring herself into this form. However, none of her friends were advanced enough to transfigure her back."

McGonogall bent to regard the rat curiously. "I suppose we could attempt to transfigure her into human form," She suggested, raising her eyes to the Headmaster. "Although you know the risks that are carried by that."

"What about using mandrakes?" The eldest professor present asked quietly, looking up at Sprout and Snape. "Would they work on self-transfigurations that have been in place as long as this one?"

Sprout scratched her uncontrolled, flyaway mass of dirt-tangled hair, wrinkling her brow in thought. "They probably would work, but it would have to be a very mature mandrake because of how long she has been like this."

"How long has she been in this form?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore replied. "Over a year. Willow, that is Sarah Weasley, has attempted to turn her back previously, but she was simply not advanced enough."

"If there is an available mandrake that is mature enough," The Potions Master glanced at the Herbology Mistress, who nodded once. "The sooner we can have the potion ready, the better it will be for her."

Sprout frowned. "You know, the little sod isn't going to be amused if I dig him up now." She remarked dryly. "He thought he was going to get away with being left for four years in the corner of the potting shed."

"You can control him?"

Professor Sprout snorted, straightening her mud-stained robes as if she had been offended by the Transfiguration Mistress. "Minerva, there is no plant in the potting sheds that I can't handle." There was a pause. "Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to get him to let go of his zimmer frame..."

"An old-aged mandrake with a zimmer frame..." McGonogall almost smiled at the image that conjured up. "Somehow, that shouldn't surprise me."

Sprout scowled. "If he had the chance, he would chase younger mandrakes off his lawn." She sighed heavily. "He is getting rather out of hand, I'll admit. Maybe picking him will teach him to behave better."

"Rather you than I, my dear." Dumbledore chuckled softly. "When will you be able to do so?"

"Give me half an hour to get warmed up and I should have him by tomorrow morning."

"Severus, how long will it take you to make the potion?"

The Potions Master rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It would take a day at most, unless we simmer it for longer for more mature potency." He cast a glance at Sprout. "Considering the age of the mandrake in question, it may be wiser to simmer it for a full twenty four hours."

"So a pair or trio of days, depending on how long it takes to tame this wild mandrake?" There was an unmistakeable twinkle in the Headmaster's blue eyes. "I'm sure that a few more hours won't make much difference to our rodent companion."

Snape and Sprout nodded, both turning and hurrying out of Dumbledore's round office at the top of the tower, leaving the Headmaster and Professor McGonogall regarding the large rat sitting on the desktop.

"Would she have had the potential to be one of ours, Albus?"

Blue eyes looked at her over gleaming, half-moon spectacles. "There is always a possibility of that, Minerva." He replied quietly. "Willow told me that Amy, this rather fetching rat, had a witch for a mother."

"Did she mention what her surname was?" Taking the seat across the desk, McGonogall watched as Dumbledore gently lifted the rat back into the large cage that was positioned on the floor beside his seat.

His silver beard rippling as he nodded, Dumbledore replied. "Madison, if I recall correctly."

McGonogall's brow wrinkled in thought. "I don't recall that we ever had any Madisons attending the school..." She remarked thoughtfully. "And you did say that Willow's adopted mother was called Sheila?"

"That's correct."

"Well, what if she was young Sheila? The sister?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I had thought about that possibility, but Willow claimed her 'mother' knew nothing of magic."

The Transfiguration Professor snorted. "And Sheila did?"

"She knew...certain things."

"Dark magic, Albus. It's not the same."

"I am aware of that, Minerva," He replied patiently. "But I am certain that Sheila Rosenberg was merely an innocent person who was unfortunately dragged into the plan for the concealment of Willow from us and the ministry."

"Yes, Albus..." McGonogall got to her feet. "I suppose I should return to my offices now. I have some work I must get done, before we see who young Amy really is."

"Good night, Minerva."

"Good night, Albus."

***
"One drop should suffice."

"How long will it take to work?"

Snape pursed his lips in thought. "Give it five minutes at the most. If we're lucky, it should work instantaneously."

Dumbledore nodded, bending and lifting the rat from the cage. They had transferred her to the medical wing for the dosing of the potion and, if it worked, for her comfort when she turned back into a human.

"When you are ready, Severus."

With a dropper, the Potions Master collected some of the potion and turned his attention to the rat that was held - strangely placid - in the Headmaster's hands.

Deftly, he managed to capture the small head gently between forefinger and thumb and squeezed the dropper into the rodent's mouth. "I would suggest you put her down before she changes back, Headmaster."

Before Dumbledore could move to do so, though, the rodent leapt from his hands and towards the bed. The rat landed on the bed beside them, bounced slightly, then started to writhe and squeak.

"It's working." Snape breathed.

A glow flared out around the rat's form and both men quickly shielded their eyes with their forearms. Only when a shaking voice spoke, did they lower their arms.

"Wh-what happened?"

Sitting on the bed, her knees pulled up against her chest, her hair matted and tangled around her face, a young woman - probably about nineteen years of age - was staring around the room around her, shivering.

Dumbledore moved first, draping a blanket around the naked girl, to shield her modesty, before giving her a reassuring smile. "You've been a rat for almost a year and a half, Miss Madison. Your friend, Willow, asked us to help."

Brown eyes stared up at him suspiciously, full of fear. "Who are you?" She demanded unsteadily, her hands gripping the edges of her blanket tight around her body. "Where's Willow? Where am I?"

"You're at a Wizarding School in England, Miss Madison. I'm Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster." Dumbledore sat down on the end of the bed. "You will be able to see Willow as soon as you've recovered. You have just been through a frightful ordeal."

The girl nodded uncertainly. "Wh-why did you help me?"

"Because we could, my dear." Patting one of her hands gently, Dumbledore got to his feet and smiled down at her. "I'll leave you in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey. She'll get you back on your feet, won't you, Poppy?"

In response, the school matron promptly bustled both of the teachers out of the Medical Wing and closed the door behind them with a firm 'click'.

Professor Dumbledore turned to Snape. "You've been strangely quiet in spite of the success of your potion, Severus."

"You didn't recognise her, did you?"

"Miss Madison?" Snape nodded grimly. "Should I have?"

The Potions Master's expression was strained. "You do remember the Wizard who stole the youngest Weasley from her crib?" Dumbledore nodded, uncertain where Snape was leading. "And you recall his sister?"

"Of course."

"Do you remember the sister's face?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Surely not..."

"She's the double of her, Headmaster." Pacing back and forth across the hall, Snape swung around to face the Headmaster, his face drawn. "If I'm to make an assumption, I would say that she is Sheila Pettigrew's daughter."

"Strange as it does seem, it would certainly explain why she had such an affinity for rats, when performing transfiguration on others and herself. It seems it was a family trade-mark." He fingered his beard, pensively. "And the name Madison..."

"Could be a pseudonym." Snape finished. "They were both darksiders, Headmaster, so a little name-changing would hardly be considered a serious crime compared to some of the other things they did."

Dumbledore motioned for Snape to walk with him, both of them making their way through the darkened corridors of the building. They walked in silence to the gargoyle that led to the Headmaster's office.

"Humbug."

The gargoyle swung aside and the two teachers stepped onto the moving staircase.

By the time they entered the office, candles were burning and a fire was crackling in the chilly hearth, the house elves having raced up as soon as they had spotted Professor Dumbledore on his way.

"Headmaster..." Snape began falteringly. Rounding his large desk to sit down, Dumbledore nodded, gesturing for Snape to sit as well. "If Pettigrew's niece has been found, what happened to her mother? Is she still at large?"

Dumbledore couldn't help chuckling. "Well, I would say she is more...er...at small."

"Pardon?"

"Apparently, Sheila - or Catherine as she was known - attended normal, American High Schools after her expulsion from this school for using the dark arts." The Headmaster explained. Willow had told him of all her witching encounters, including those with 'Mrs Madison'. "She became fairly famous as a cheerleader."

"A what?"

"The Americans seem to like to have professional cheer-leading girls to support their sports teams. Even in high schools, they encourage young women to don skimpy costumes and dance in strange routines which apparently...er...spur their team to victory."

Snape couldn't muffle a snigger. "What on earth will they think of next? And Pettigrew was one of these...cheerers?"

"A very good one, judging by the awards she won. Alas, she wanted Amy to follow in her footsteps and when she proved incapable, Pettigrew resorted to the dark arts again and stole her daughter's body."

"I'm not surprised at that. She always was a rather selfish child."

"She did succeed, but she attempted to literally wipe out the competition. Fortunately for everyone, one of them was the Slayer and - with help - they defeated Sheila somehow and she was somehow transfigured into one of her trophies."

Snape raised a brow. "As you can see, I am distraught."

"Obviously." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "Something tells me that it is an odd kind of poetic justice."

"So we're not about to run to the poor witch's rescue?"

Dumbledore exaggerated a heavy sigh. "But Severus, I just got back and I am frightfully tired.."

The Potions Master chuckled. "So that would be a no."

 

 

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