by Houses
Previous , 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, NextThe dim candle light of the hallway flickered in the slight breeze as Severus Snape dragged Willow down the hallway. Her slender fingers plucked the hand trapping her elbow, to no affect. He only tightened his grip, his face emotionless as she whimpered in pain. Suddenly he stopped and released her with a sharp whump against the cold stone wall. Willow glared up at him, meeting his burning black eyes defiantly.
"What. Is. Your. Problem." She spat out. "Was the dragging and pinching necessary?"
"Perhaps. Let me as you a question, little girl. Did you notice that someone didn't congratulate you at the end of the dance?" Her eyes clouded, but Willow shook her head. "No, I'd rather thought not. Isn't it odd that Minerva McGonagall, the only other person to successfully perform the Arabesque on Halloween in the last half century wasn't thrilled that some one else knew how to do it? Or that she never taught someone else after her husband died?"
Willow had flattened herself further back against the stone to get away from the obviously distressed Potions Master. "Maybe, but it's just a dance. What harm could it do?" she hissed back.
He snorted. "Just a dance, she says. You really know so little of how the world works, don't you. No dance is ever just a dance. They all serve some purpose whether you're dancing from joy, celebration, or just outright sex." He ran his hand down her flank and sneered at her discomfort. "They all have meaning. Aren't you just a little bit curious why that particular dance is performed at that particular time?"
Echoing around in the back of her mind were Draco's words, And as for you- dancing is like magic. Just feel it flowing through your limbs. Relax and let it take you away. She began to have the beginnings of butterflies in her stomach, but pushed Snape out of the way as she paced away from the wall. "Why don't you tell me then, since you've got your panties in a bunch about it," she snarked back.
"Now you want to know. Didn't Draco tell you? Did you even ask?" he responded archly. "No matter. What's done is done. That particular Arabesque has power on this night, the dividing line between life and death: the connection between your ancestors on the day of the dead. And on this day, and only this day, if the dance is done perfectly it allows the dancers to see each other."
Willow waved her hand negligently. "Whatever. I can't believe this is what is getting you so upset. So we could see each other. Big deal." She shivered a bit at Snape's brittle laughter.
"You really have no idea." He paused and narrowed his eyes. "You've been acting since you showed up. Hiding what ever it is you decided to run away from. Little slips here and there, but over all, a very fine performance. I should know; I act every day. Though, in my case, I am trying to appear more fierce, a sort of protection if you will. You on the other hand," here he gripped her shoulder and leaned close into her face, "you have been playing the innocent child. I saw you this afternoon. When everyone thought you were the savior, I saw you. Watched your precious act nearly come apart at the seams. I could see that struggle not to tear them apart."
Willow's eyes were wide with rage and horror. "No…" she whispered.
"Ha! And now it's all out there, and you did it to yourself. That dance, its special gift to the dancers, is to see what they wish to remain hidden." Willow gasped. "That's why you almost always see married pairs dancing it. It strengthens their bond… Isn't that interesting." Willow wrenched her shoulder out of his grasp and stalked a few feet away. Vaguely, she knew Snape was still watching her as she ran her fingers through her hair, snagging gently on the knots.
"So whatever you were hiding from the rest of us, Draco knows. And what did he have to say about that," he mused with a slightly cruel tilt to his words.
"He said I was perfect," she whispered. Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise before recovering.
"And what did you see, my dear. What did Draco's soul say to you?"
Her eyes flashed as she squared her shoulders. "What I did or did not see is not for you to know. And as for the rest of it, since you're so curious, perhaps I should show you." She stepped closer and he shrunk back from the barely suppressed anger.
Willow was trying, desperately trying, to hold herself together. The pull of the magic was still so strong from earlier; combined with the subtle power of the dance, her control was slowly unraveling into thin ribbons of distress. She ran her fingers through her hair again.
"Isn't it fascinating that people always want to know more than what's good for them? And you. You've been on my case since I got here. I saw you watching me tonight. What I don't understand is what I've done to you? All I've done is try to help, and still you watch." She let out a strangled sound that could have been a sob. She could feel herself slipping. The fractured pieces of her began to crackle with tension. With one last-ditch attempt to rein in her temper, she snapped and pushed the larger man flush back against the same wall he pinned her against earlier.
"I was having a wonderful evening you know. Being normal. Fitting in, mostly. Then you had to go and ruin it. I think it's time I returned the favor." She narrowed her eyes to slits and curled her mouth into a thin smile. Snape found himself unable to look away as she wove her head back and forth slightly. "I had a friend back home. Used to have to listen to him babble about his ex-girlfriend incessantly. 'My black rose!' 'My dark Princess!' It got old, really, but it turned out every once in a while he'd say something interesting. Drusilla had many gifts it appeared, but I've never had an opportunity to try them out until now." Quick as a striking snake, she reached out with both hands and pinned Snape's head between them. "I have a better idea. Let's not just show you. Interactive rides are so much fun, aren't they."
Her nails curved and barely broke the skin. Snape pulled at them but before he could remove them, he let out a small scream as she forced her way into his consciousness. The inner Snape struggled against the invader, but Willow let out a volley of flames and he whimpered and retreated. Much better. Now let's see where we begin. At the beginning? How mundane… but it starts the ball rolling. But which beginning. Ah… we'll go with stoppering death, since you have such a fascination with it. The mental Willow reached out with her tendrils of thought and wrapped Snape's terrified consciousness in a web of spider silk. Ready, Professor. Let's see how you like the lesson. And suddenly he was in her, seeing as she saw, feeling what she felt.
Glory strutting around, all holy. The blinding moment when she connected herself to both Tara and Glory at once. Touching the power nearly stopped her heart, but it was worth it. Tara was worth it and she was alone no more.
Sending Spike up the tower, the taste of his mind on her tongue, the ozone in the air. He fell from the tower, and a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Moments later, the portals and chaos started. And then it all ended, a beautiful swan dive to the warehouse floor, breaking more than bones, breaking hearts and minds all at once.
Holding it together, just barely. Wanting it all back the way it was. Needing the security, the knowledge that she didn't have to do it all on her own. The pain as the fawn struggled in her arms, its blood running over her hands. The despair as her screamed.
Beseeching needing wanting pleading. The fury and rage, the supplicated god relishing her essence. The tests one after another, marking her forever. The demons, and the anguish of being ripped away. Alone; bereft again.
Joy in succeeding, and just a little bit of arrogance at the uselessness of death. So easily defeated. Craving recognition, needing praise. The horror of discovery, a little piece of her dying just as she'd forced her friend to life. The devastation of heaven lost, insanity regained.
Tara is leaving. Tara is leaving. Tara is leaving. Numb blankness, then anger. I have done nothing wrong. And she is gone. Amy and the bronze. Rack and the violation of her innocence, but the inability to separate herself from the desire to be. Crashing out of a dream, the disgust and distain of her friends.
Joy! She has returned! Love has returned!
Shock and disbelief. Rage and denial, the supplication once again. Fear and rejection. The separation of self. The absorption of knowledge and power. Buffy's resurrection once again. Third time's the charm?
Hunting. The joy of pursuit, her target so close. And thwarted once again. The insignificance of her friends, their blindness. The path through the woods, playing with her prey like a cat would do, the sheer pleasure of the destruction of the bringer of pain.
Two to go. Why don't they see? Why won't they understand? The frustration and irritation. Swatting them like flies. Distractions and taking what should have been hers all along.
Drowning, that's what it was. Drowning in humanity, feeling where before there had been nothing but black vengeance. A solution presenting itself yet Xander stands before her, hands reached out in friendship, where had they been before? Disarmament and grief. Beginning once again…
With a gasp, Willow yanked her hands away from Snape's head. No, no, no, no, no! I am not her any longer! He slumped to the floor, still trapped inside his mind, or hers, she had no idea. One trembling hand moved to smooth his black hair out of his eyes and she saw, really saw, what she had done. Sobbing, she turned and ran, grabbing the skirts and hiking them over her knees as she fled. Not looking back to see if he would rise and follow her, she struggled through the haze of threatening tears. She reached her door without incident and stumbled to the bathroom, retching in the toilet as she fell to the floor on her knees.
*** ***
Draco followed Willow from the dance hall, amused that she didn't see him. It always struck him as amusing that someone that stood inches over everyone else with hair the color of moonlight could avoid being seen if he wished. He snorted as he thought how jealous he had been when he found out that Harry Potter had an invisibility cloak. He'd whined incessantly about it until Narcissa finally sat him down and firmly stated that he was a clever boy, when he used the brains he was gifted with. He should be able to figure out how to stalk around if he wished and not rely on any silly props. Suitably chastised, he practiced how to make himself unnoticeable. It was awfully handy, he decided as he slipped silently after a storming Snape and obviously irritated Willow.
Well, well. This is even more fascinating than I'd hoped. He ignored the flare of jealously as Snape ran his fingers down Willow's side, but it didn't stop him for wishing the man a little pain, just for good measure. Though, a few minutes later, when she clawed the side of his head and worked some sort of magical mojo on the professor's mind, he did feel a bit sorry for him. Especially when Willow released Snape with a sob and darted down the hallway leaving a very uncomfortable Snape still slouched against the stones. Never one to let an opportunity pass by; he crept closer to the unmoving man.
He whispered a quick 'mobilus corpus' and whisked him down the hall to the Potion's classroom. Sweeping the desk clear with his wand, he gently lowered limp Severus Snape to his desk. He strode back to the door of the classroom and locked it with his personal wards and sat down to wait.
Nearly a half an hour later, Draco saw the first signs of movement. He waved up a glass of cold water and flicked a bit in Snape's face. When his eyes opened a crack, Draco spoke. "Having a nice evening, Professor? I found you lying there in the hall, and I though you looked a little uncomfortable so I brought you here to your classroom."
Snape made a few uncoordinated movements with his hands and arched his back before muttering under his breath, "Lonely. So lonely, I couldn't get away…" He inhaled a rough breath before rubbing his eyes and blinking. As they focused on the pale face near his, he narrowed his eyes.
"Draco."
"I believe we covered that, Professor Snape. I brought you here. I figured you didn't want anyone to see you slumped in the hallway, might cause talk." He cocked his head and gestured with the water. "Want some?"
Groggily, Snape reached for the water as he struggled to sit up. "I have rather screwed up things, haven't I." Draco made a small, non-committal noise in his throat before standing.
"I am sure I have no idea." He inclined his head. "Since you seem better, I'm off to torment some first years. They get so jumpy after a dance…" He paused briefly before turning his shrewd silver eyes back to Snape. "Remember, one good turn deserves another, isn't that right? Have a good evening." He disarmed the wards and swirled out of the classroom. Snape remained sitting with his head on his hands, staring at the floor.
*** ***
Once she had regurgitated what seemed like everything she'd eaten in the last two years, Willow washed her face, peering into the mirror. What she saw staring back nearly made her retch again. How could I? What is wrong with me! She slammed her hand against the mirror in frustration before turning back to her room. She calmly took off the beautiful dress robes and rooted through the wardrobe until she came up with the clothes she had worn to Hogwarts. She changed her clothes, packed her small knapsack with whatever she brought with her in the first place and sat on the bed to wait.
Trapped alone with her thoughts, Willow sank back into her memories once again. How did I get here? When did I stop being me, and become something all together different? She worried at the hem of her anorak and jumped when she heard a knock on the door.
Taking a deep breath, she strode forward and opened the door. When she saw only Snape standing there, she peered out to look both ways down the hallway.
"Where are the others?"
"Beg your pardon?" Snape was genuinely confused. "What others?"
"I just figured that Dumbledore would come himself to kick me out. Let me get my bag." She picked up her pack and started to walk out of the door once more. Snape extended an arm, gently, and guided her back inside.
"Willow, no one is coming. I haven't told anyone what happened. I am only here to talk to you."
Since looking him in the eyes made her feel nauseas, she directed her faint, "OK" to his top button. She walked back into the room and sat at one of the two armchairs by the fireplace. He settled into the one opposite and casually lit a fire, seeing Willow's wince out of the corner of his eye.
"Willow, I'm afraid I owe you an apology." She stared at him with wide eyes before bursting out in mildly hysterical laughter.
"You owe me and apology? Gee, that's… fucked up." Her hands trembled as she smoothed her hair back into a ponytail. "I drag you through my most miserable memories and you think you owe me an apology? I'm afraid I really just don't follow that logic at all. We're talking serious insane Troll logic here." She looked at his face and scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. "But you're serious aren't you? Why?"
He sighed. "It's complicated. Suffice it to say, the old cliché that no one is perfect fits this situation rather well." He rolled his head around and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture oddly reminiscent of Giles. "Not that the surround sound version of your collapse wasn't exhilarating, but it's definitely something that I'd like not to repeat anytime soon. Fair enough?"
Nodding, she said softly, "Sure. I think I can manage that. But I am curious- sure no one is perfect, but not everyone tries to destroy the world."
He chuckled, "No. They don't. But everyone has weaknesses, and it is pretty much a guarantee that everyone falls down at least once, some more spectacular than others." He unbuttoned his left cuff and slowly rolled it to the elbow. "And some have to bear more visible brands than others." He leaned closer to the fire and tilted his forearm towards Willow. She reached out one pale hand to trace the Dark Mark marring the porcelain of his skin. She held her fingers over the tattoo of a skull and snake and could feel the miasma of evil surrounding it. She snatched her hand away.
"You have to live with that? All the time, feeling like that?"
He arched eyebrow. "I do. And you, for all that you don't show it, have something very similar." He methodically rolled down his sleeve and buttoned it back up. "When I was young, perhaps your age, I was offered an opportunity to participate in something very powerful. To be a part of the movement greater than the wizarding world had ever seen, and I jumped at the opportunity. At the time it didn't matter what the cost was; I achieved everything I wanted. Then one day I woke up and the world didn't look the same." He sighed. "But for that brief time of stupidity, I have paid a lifetime of penance. I suppose it is the way it should be, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. To know I contributed to something that made the world that much worse, and enjoyed myself doing it, is something I have to live with every day. But I do."
He leaned back in his chair, the wings hiding his face from the firelight. "I saw you walk down that center aisle the first night you arrived and I saw a reflection of myself. And it scared me to death. You have great power, Willow, greater than I have ever seen. But you need to come to terms with yourself. You will never succeed if you don't find a balance between what you were and what you will become, and part of this is learning to accept the darkness in yourself." She could hear him rustling in the chair over the crackling of the fire.
"I think you showed me quite a bit more than you meant to when you… raped… my mind like you did. I saw you as a young girl as well. The dutiful daughter neglected by overbearing parents more interested in themselves than their offspring. I saw the school aged Willow tormented by bullies, merely trying to fit in. And I saw your desperate attempts to belong finally succeeding when that Buffy person came to town." He tilted slightly and looked at her directly, the flashing flames reflecting off his eyes. "And then you began to loose yourself in others. First in Oz, the first boy to want you for you, then to Xander because he finally began to notice you. When they were gone, Tara was there, all welcome adoration until she finally became tired of being a doormat." At Willow's squeak of protest, he waved his hand. "Perhaps I am painting this in too negative a light. The gist of which is, Willow, you need to decide what you want to be, and be it. No one is all goodness and light, and not everyone is as depraved as Angelus was." He gathered himself to stand.
"Perhaps this dance with Draco tonight was good for you after all. That remains to be seen." He stiffly pushed himself out of the chair, silhouetted in the firelight. "I haven't said anything to anyone and I won't. You need to figure out a few things first. But I promise you, pull another stunt like the one in the hallway, and I'll send you back to your world in heartbeat." He rested his hand on the chair back. "And Willow, as much as it's hard to accept, in the end, we are always alone." He moved silently and let himself out the door. Willow remained in her armchair, staring at the fire until the last flames flickered and died.
The cold gray light of dawn crept around the windowsill, gripping the dim room with chilled fingers. Still Willow sat, staring into the hearth where the magical fire had long since burned away without ashes. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, spinning through the same thoughts in her mind. Her eyes burned but she couldn't keep them closed. The minute she rested her lids, the night's events replayed themselves in whirling Technicolor. She was stuck in the emotional dance of contentment, wonder, anger, guilt and fear. She tried to find one thread and concentrate on it, but they all kept slipping away. With a sigh, she peeled herself out of the chair and shakily walked to the window.
The frost of late fall had crystallized into wild fractals at the base of the pane, and Willow traced them with her finger, grimacing faintly as the heat of her touch melted them through the glass. Well, looks like whatever I touch gets destroyed. She rolled her eyes and laid her palm flat on the glass, staring across the fields to the lake and woods beyond. The world was still and misty, beginning to shine as the sun just crested the trees.
Holding her breath, Willow watched the world wake up. A few birds took flight from their nests by Hagrid's cottage as he opened the door and let Fang out. At this distance, she couldn't hear Fang's bark, but she could see Hagrid shush him with a bone and walk solidly to the corrals where his creatures were kept. There was something surreal and magical about seeing sunrise from the wrong direction and Willow stood transfixed as the night gray bled into a pantheon of flame. Feeling almost guilty for watching something so beautiful, she stepped back from the window as the sun finally rose. She returned to her seat at the fire and curled her legs up underneath her, resting her chin on her hands.
*** ***
Willow jerked awake with a start. At first she thought she'd only slept for a few seconds, but at glimpsing the dusk outside the window, she realized she'd spent the entire day, and most of the night, in the chair by the fireplace. Her neck hurt, her back was a mass of cramps, and her knees were locked and numb. Gingerly she unwound herself and groaning, made her way to the bathroom.
A shower. That's what I need; work the kinks out of my system. She ran the water until it was steaming and as hot as she could stand before stripping and stepping under the spray. Her mind was pleasantly numb at the outset, but as her body woke up, so did her thoughts. With that, she scrubbed harder at her skin, as if to remove all traces of the night before. Remembering another time she stood in the shower, trying to rinse the night away, her throat caught and she leaned her head against the shower wall. Taking a few deep breaths, she steadied herself.
Huh. I've been here all day. I've likely missed every meal, and no one has seen me since I ran out of the hall last night. She frowned and lathered up her hair. So, no one has come looking for me, or if they did- I didn't see them. So…that means what exactly. She rinsed her hair and started working in the conditioner. One thing I have to say for this place, the bath products just can't be beat! She sighed and rinsed again. Let's say they were concerned about my sudden disappearance- wouldn't it be likely they'd want to see if I was alright? I would… or maybe someone found out about what happened in the hallway and they're all afraid of me. Her heart skipped a beat and she stood stock still. NO. He said he wouldn't tell anyone, and I don't think he would. He understands; that much I believe. Then maybe it has something to do with my dance with Draco. So Minerva wasn't pleased, but that doesn't mean everyone knew what was going on. Most people certainly didn't! Wonder how Snape knew… She rung out the washcloth and hung it over a handy rack in the shower. Despite the water never running cold, she was pretty sure she wasn't made to spend indefinite time in the shower. Willow held her hands up in the muted light and squinted at her fingertips. Pruny. Ick. If I don't get out soon, I may end up permanently dried fruit. She lingered over taps before finally shutting them off and toweling down with an enormous fluffy towel. Wrapping it tightly around her body, she walked into the main bedroom.
"Eeeek! What are you doing here!"
A small house elf with luminescent topaz eyes was setting a small table for dinner. At Willow's outburst, the elf's ears stuck straight out and she dropped the platter of asparagus, shattering the bowl on the floor.
"Oh wait, I'm sorry, don't cry!" Willow knelt near the now trembling elf busy repairing the bowl and conjuring another.
"Lala is so sorry, miss. Lala didn't hear you get out of the shower. Be out of your way soon." Willow patted her on the shoulder and set the repaired bowl of asparagus on the table.
"Not that I'm not delighted to meet you, Lala, but what exactly are you doing here? I thought I missed dinner?"
"Oh yes, miss, you did. But Master Snape requested this be sent up since you aren't feeling well. Don't you like asparagus and roast chicken?" At the pleading, hopeful look in the house elf's eyes, Willow smiled.
"Oh, I do very much. He didn't also happen to request something chocolate did he?" Lala wagged her head up and down rapidly.
"Chocolate mousse! He said specifically, 'There is no problem that can't be solved by chocolate'. So you have mousse." The tiny creature indicated a covered silver bowl. "If you will excuse me, Lala must be going now." With a small curtsey and flick of her long fingers, Lala vanished into the ether.
Willow sat at the table and lifted the lids off of several of the dishes. Well, this is surreal. He remembered all of my favorite foods! Not to mention the chocolate mousse. She pursed her lips in confusion. She tasted one dish after another, grinning as they fairly melted on her tongue. To her amazement, she was famished. When they were all finished, Willow stacked the dishes neatly and put on a pair of sturdy everyday robes.
Grabbing her heavy over-cloak, she set out from her rooms, heading towards the dungeons. There were few students in the halls, and none passed close by. Grateful to avoid any unwanted confrontations, she walked briskly past the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. She wove through the tunnels and passages, shivering in the damp, until she reached the doors to the Potions classroom. Not knowing where to go next, she turned to portrait across the hall. Thank goodness this place has built in directions, if I can just remember not to ask anything of drunken knights. "Excuse me, ladies. I was wondering if I might ask you a question."
The three ladies sharing a pot of tea turned her way, and the most impressive of the three placed her cup neatly in its saucer. "Yes?"
"Would you mind telling me which room belongs to Professor Snape?" The lady looked her over a few times before nodding.
"This one here, dear. He's just turned in for the evening. You may catch him awake. Just knock."
Willow indicated her thanks and turned to gently rap on the heavy wood frame. A few minutes of silence, then she could just make out the sounds of movement on the other side of the door. It cracked open to reveal the dour face of the Potions teacher.
"What? Oh, Willow, it's you." He opened the door a little wider. She could see he was only wearing a dark green dressing gown over black silk pajamas. "What can I do for you?" He gestured Willow inside and firmly shut the door.
"I won't take up much of your time, I promise. I just wanted to say thanks." He raised one eyebrow. "For dinner. It was delicious." She twisted her fingers around and raised her eyes to his. Whatever she had expected, it wasn't this. He looked at her almost wistfully, like he was watching a memory.
"I told the rest of the staff that you were exhausted after yesterday, both in the town and after the dance. It wasn't hard to convince them, though Minerva was a little suspicious. I had Lala bring you dinner after I noticed you didn't appear for any of the meals." He indicated a chair and Willow sat, examining her surroundings.
The quarters were plain but elegant. A beautiful writing desk sat in one corner littered with scrolls and parchments and a collection of used and broken quills heaped in a pile. The chairs by the fire were of black leather, high backed, and soft as butter, with a matching couch and chaise along the far wall. Adorning the walls, painted a deep charcoal gray, were several portraits and photographs, black and white, of witches and wizards from all times. "My family," he said as an explanation. She looked at the hooked noses and superior demeanors of most of the subjects and decided she'd have known them as Snapes anywhere.
"You have a large family then?" she asked softly.
"Yes. The Snapes have been around for quite some time. I have many cousins, but in my direct family line there is only myself." Willow looked at him inquiringly. "My mother died when I was quite young. I grew up with my cousins on the Snape side mostly. As a matter of fact, Narcissa Malfoy is a second cousin on my mothers' side." He grimaced. "Not that we were ever particularly close…"
Willow nodded, not wanting to push, and continued her inspection of the rooms. Snape didn't seem to want anything of her, and was only watching her with mild interest. Figuring it was rude to stare at man in his dressing gown, no matter now nicely it showed off surprising muscle tone, Willow twisted her head further around and gasped at the collection of books lining the walls. He chuckled.
"I see you approve of my library. It's a hobby of mine, reading things I shouldn't. Some thing you can relate to, I believe." Willow started guiltily, and he sneered. "Oh, don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your choice of bedtime reading." He frowned, then added, "Actually, you may benefit from some of these, if you are truly interested in the direction your studies were taking you in your world." He tapped his fingers on the edge of the chair.
Willow held her breath before asking, in a voice barely over a whisper, "Will you teach me?"
He looked her right in the eyes, and said with measured cadence, "Will you learn? Can you accept instruction?" She fidgeted. "If you're serious, I'll arrange to meet with you some nights during the week. But I don't suffer fools, and I will not tolerate insubordination." He glared at her, black eyes seeing much more than her appearance and manner. She nodded. "Was there anything else you wanted to know?"
"Um, about Lala. Do all the house elves have names from the Teletubbies?" He looked at her blankly. "I guess not. Um… I think I have to be going. It's later than I thought." She glanced around before standing. Snape hadn't moved and was watching her dispassionately. "Well, then. I'll see you tomorrow." He waved his hand. "Ok…" She backed towards the door, letting herself out.
Once outside in the hallway, she breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever that encounter had been, relaxed it wasn't. She had not expected him to allow her into his private domain, and she most definitely had not expected him to offer to teach her. Not really interested in questioning his motives, she was just grateful that he seemed willing to start over with her, given what she'd done to him.
The redheaded witch scrunched her brow as she wrapped herself up in her outer cloak. She glanced up at the clock as she passed through the front hall, Hmm, Slytherin's ahead, but not by much. If they loose to Ravenclaw, they'll drop behind Gryffindor. She grinned. I can't believe I'm following Quidditch! I hate football. She frowned. And I can't believe I hope Slytherin wins. That's just weird. The doors to the yard were shut, but she pushed them open with ease. Slipping down the stairs, she sought the path to the lake, illuminated by moonlight.
The world turned silver in shades of black and white. Willow's hair gleamed in the moonlight as she wove in between the rocks. She could see a faint shine in the water that was too regular to be the moon, so she was only mildly surprised when a softly glowing Squidward waved at her.
"Hi, Squidward. I forgot that giant squids are mostly nocturnal. Guess that being stuck in a loch'll screw up your whole schedule. Sorry I couldn't grab any snacks for you, the kitchen isn't open this late." His dinner plate sized eye gleamed up at her from the inky darkness of the lake, and she felt that somehow he understood. She continued along the water's edge until she reached Tara's rock, and she added another small pile.
She sank down to the ground, caressing the rough stone, glad to be able to talk to someone, even if that someone was currently deceased and represented by a large boulder. I screwed up, Tara. But I guess you know that already. I've tried so hard to be what they wanted me to be. I just didn't think the old me would catch up with the new me. I can't believe myself. I'm pathetic. Tears started to form in her eyes, but she blinked them away fiercely. But I'm going to stop all that now. I promised myself I'd be better, I'll be the best witch I can. I'm going to learn from Snape. He understands I guess, especially after I…
She stopped suddenly when the feeling of being watched returned full force. Willow stood quietly and peered into the shadows lining the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The trees moved with the late breeze and the cracking of twigs and limbs as they rubbed together blotted out any sounds from the ground. She spared a glance upwards to the moon, a bright silver disk, and took a few steps back along the lake.
"Hello? I know someone's watching me." There was only silence for an answer. She narrowed her eyes and scanned the lakeside once again.
With a splash, Squidward shot one enormous tentacle out of the water. It landed behind a large rock with a thump, and Willow was sure she could hear a small yelp. Squidward yanked upwards, and she could see a silver shape dangling from his suckers. She took a few steps closer and saw that it was in fact a rather large dog, perhaps even a coyote. The giant squid gave the creature several sharp shakes, and it yelped again.
Willow walked forward. "Well, well. What have we here. I know you're not really an animal, I can feel it. You may as well turn back before I have Squidward here turn you into a midnight snack."
For emphasis, the pad at the end of his tentacle tightened and he gave it another sharp shake. Shimmering faintly, the shape morphed into a rather limp collection of black robes, and familiar white hair.
"Draco! What are you doing out here!"
"Draco! It's OK, Squidward, I know him. He has a lot of explaining to do, but you may as well put him down." The giant squid released his almost-meal from the height of about 10 feet and Draco hit the ground with a thump. Groaning, he pushed himself into a sitting position as Willow approached.
She arched one eyebrow and crossed her arms, glaring at him sternly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
He almost had the grace to look ashamed as he brushed his hair out of his eyes, wincing as he touched one of the red sucker marks the mollusk left on his skin. "Nice night for a walk, wouldn't you say?" He said, with what he hoped was a charming grin. Unfortunately that was a little hard to pull off while tangled in robes and rocks, and becoming more than slightly damp. Squidward had dropped him a large puddle.
"Very." She glared down at him. She leaned back against a large rock and cocked her head. Her heart was racing, more from irritation than any trace of fear. "You've been watching me for months now, haven't you. Ever since I showed up…" At his nod, she threw up her hands. "Why? What could possibly entice you to creep around after me?"
Draco raised his hands in a gesture of supplication. "Well. I guess I found you intriguing." He pulled at his robes and attempted to knit together some dignity.
"Intriguing? Particle physics is intriguing. I'm just Willow. A Willow you knew nothing about. Still don't, really." She humphed and tossed her hair.
His face twisted into a sly smile. "Oh no…? Well, I know you're beautiful." He got to his feet. "And charming." He took a step further. "And powerful." He was almost to where she was standing, and she was more than a little startled to discover her breathing had increased and she couldn't turn away. She leaned back; suddenly very aware of him. That he was a 'him' and she didn't mind. That he still smelled as nice as he did during the dance, lake odor aside. He smelled of snow and lightening, the chill of a winter storm, and she caught herself leaning nearer. Willow narrowed her eyes.
"And this was before the dance, which you had better explain by the way. What gave you the right to dance that with me, 'see me' or whatever, and not tell me what it was for?!? Your arrogance is astounding, even for a Malfoy."
He blanched. "You figured it out then?" he asked softly. At her nod, he continued, "Guess Snape must have said something. Figures, he is family. It was something my mother taught me a long time ago. I told you that. Her family had done it for generations, trying to sort out possible potential mates to strengthen the bloodline. I didn't know if it would work with you or not, since you'd never seen it done." He was lying, but he didn't see the point in saying so. Honesty was all well and good, but too much of it could be damning. "I thought I'd try. You are powerful, and it stands to reason you could feel your way around it." He smiled at her hungrily, much like a wolf after its dinner. "And you did better than I ever thought possible."
Willow shivered. It was as if the dance was still there, swirling around the two of them. It flowed down the lines of light from the moon, caressing lines of shadow and silver along her arms, through her hair, stroking her cheek. She shook her head sharply, trying to break free. She fought to regain control of the situation the only way she knew how. She got mad.
"Did it not occur to you I come out here for privacy? To get away from the likes of Hogwarts? God! This place is so stifling all the time. And you? All mysterious and sexy and I can't believe I just said this. I'm gay now, right? I shouldn't be thinking these things about a guy. It's ridiculous. What's wrong with me!"
Draco was staring quietly at her during the tirade, but at the 'gay now' comment he coughed. "Excuse me. Did I just hear you right, you're gay now? What were you before?" He dusted off his cloak while watching her through long blond eyelashes. Willow looked wound tight, despite her best attempts to look calm and collected. She was obviously recovering from something, and if she'd gone through anything like Snape had the night before, Draco was pretty sure she felt like shit. Her face was pale and her aura was crackling. After what he'd witnessed around her recently, he'd be sure to be careful.
At his comment, she clapped her hands over her mouth, and sank to her knees. "No, I did not just say that. Why can't I keep my mouth shut!" she wailed. Draco remained quiet as she looked up at him with moss green eyes. The moonlight shone on unshed tears, and he was shocked that he hadn't noticed them in all the smushing, shaking and dropping. "Do you want to know why I come out here? See this rock? It's a gravestone of sorts. Before I… came here, I was happily living my life back in Sunnydale. Then some lunatic shot my girlfriend right in front of me. You know what the last thing she said to me was? 'Your shirt.'" She laughed sort of hysterically. "This is turning into 24 hours of confessions. It sucks." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I can't go to Tara's real grave, so I come here. To talk to her, let her know how my life is going."
She was surprised to feel warm, strong hands holding her own. She looked up and caught a glimpse of the same Draco Malfoy she'd seen at the dance the night before. Devoid of sarcasm and distain, he said, quite simply, "I'm sorry. I had no idea. If I'd known I was intruding on that I wouldn't have followed you." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "Who am I kidding; I still would have followed you. Couldn't help myself, but I'd have felt sort of guilty about it. Which is weird."
She snorted. "Lacking a moral compass, are we?" He smiled.
"A bit. Look, I'm sorry I upset you. I really didn't mean any harm. I just wanted to keep my eye on you." He hauled her up to her feet. "So, you think I'm sexy?"
She burst out into giggles, and batted her eyelashes at him. "Maybe. Not bad for a guy." He stood a little straighter. She glared at him. "I'm still pissed at you. Don't ever, ever sneak up on me again. No more cloak and daggers shit. I swear, if I find out you're doing something remotely Slytherin around me, I'll… I don't know what I'll do, but you won't like it."
Eyes crackling with green fire raked his face. Stunned by the intensity, Draco could only nod and add, "So, what's a girl like you and a guy like me going to do on this beautiful moonlit night?"
*** ***
They walked onto the pitch in the empty of night. Willow paced next to Draco, who was carrying two brooms over his shoulder. She turned her head slightly and said, "So, a coyote. Interesting choice."
He stopped short and responded indignantly, "I am not a coyote. I am a wolf."
"You are so a coyote. We have them in Southern California. Besides, I saw some in the zoo. I'm just delighted you aren't a hyena."
"Hyena! Oh, thanks a lot. And I am not a coyote. They're so…"
She grinned, "American? Right, I get it. You don't want to be all 'colonial'. Fine, but you're still a coyote." At his snort of disapproval, she added, "Coyotes are very special you know. A lot of Native American myths revolve around them. In some they can be helpful, others not so much. I think they're considered tricksters or mischief makers actually." He raised his eyebrows. "I've been studying up on Animagus transformations. It's something I should talk to Professor McGonagall about sometime soon, actually. What I've learned is the form you take, while you can direct the general size and nature of the creature, is a reflection of the transfiguring human's soul. Something about you must say coyote."
He regarded her for a moment. "So, you've been studying to become an Animagus? What do you think you'd be?" Several emotions flickered across her face. After a few seconds pause, she faced away from him, looking at something off in the distance.
"I don't know, really."
He decided to let the subject drop, and did the same with the brooms. He laid one next to the other and positioned Willow across from him. She looked around "Are you sure you aren't going to get in trouble for this? It is the middle of the night, and a school night, no less."
He smiled that smile again. The one she couldn't decide if she wanted to smack off his face or swoon. It was most irritating; she'd never considered herself a swooner. "This is the one advantage of being Head Boy: the right to abuse the privileges contained therein. No one is going to bother us, and if they do, you're sort of a teacher, right? So, no problem there." She rolled her eyes. "Okay. Take your dominant hand and hold it over the broom like so, and say, quite firmly 'Up'."
Willow gave him a funny look and held her right hand over the broom. "Up!" The broom came flying off the ground and smacked her hand. "Ow! That's not supposed to hurt is it?" He snickered.
He called his broom and swung one leg over the side. "You seem to have the calling right, now let's see about mounting the broom. Swing your leg like so, and gently balance; holding the broom between your hands like this."
Fire colored hair fell in her face as she squinted in concentration. She straddled the broom and leaned forward to balance on her hands. Quite suddenly, the broom pitched forwards, dumping Willow off the end as it shot up into the sky bristles first. And disappeared.
Draco tilted his head and gave Willow a piercing look. "Huh. Never seen that before. So, one broom left. Still want to fly, Firestarter?"
Willow could feel the moment slipping away from her despite her attempts to catch it with too weary fingers. It was no longer tangible, she decided, this moon drenched night with the icy coyote asking her to fly away with him. It was so deliciously surreal that Willow found herself reaching out her hand, wordlessly asking to be taken away from the past, away from the memories, away from the pain. It wouldn't hurt, this ride in the starlight, because it wasn't happening.
Draco noticed something strange was going on with the lovely young woman before him. She seemed to get lighter, and more transparent, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. He decided he could really care less why when she held out her hand and slid one slim leg over the broomstick behind him. She leaned forward and breathed softly on his neck. Draco nearly groaned as all the hairs on his body stood straight up. Her eyes were glassy when he turned around but she smiled.
"Oh, yes, Draco. I'd very much like to fly." She wrapped her arms around his waist and relished the warm strength of his muscles, hard from hours of flying. The solidity of another, companionship freely given… He bared his teeth in response as he kicked off from the ground. She made no sound as the soared into the air, high above even the tallest towers. She drank in the wind and laughed out loud when he dropped them a hundred feet in one dive, swooping as close to the ground as he dared.
She leaned into the turns with wild abandon. Willow's hair streamed back from her face, a mane of flame. The air sang past her ears, whispering of things alive and gone, stripped from the world in wisps of flight. She could feel the way the trees bathed in the wind, relished it like they did water. For a moment, she was one of them, reaching deep into the earth even as she soared.
Draco, for his part, was feeling a little out of his element. He'd dreamed of something like this, but was sure it would never happen. And now that he'd found her, this living flame, he'd be damned before he let her go. He swirled and dove, relishing the moment. Eventually, though, as the false dawn threatened the black and white world of night, he brought them back down to earth.
She slid off the broom bonelessly, and would have fallen had he not caught her. Part of her was still up there in the sky, away from it all. The other part of her was looking at the young man in front of her with new eyes. He stared back at her, devouring every detail. Her mouth was parted slightly and the corners of her lips turned up. He took one graceful finger and brushed her hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch and he cupped her chin in his palm.
In one of those moments where everything seems to still, and the world watches closely, he leaned down and stopped merely a breath away from her face. He laid his cheek against hers as she closed her eyes and he moaned softly, deep in his chest. The soft skin of her face was chilled from the flight. He brought his other hand up to the curve of her lower back and slowly leaned down to kissed the base of her neck where it joined her shoulder.
Willow shuddered and leaned into his touch before pushing back. The world slammed into her again and she shook her head. "I… I can't. It's too soon. I just… I'm sorry." She looked up at his face, expecting anger or rejection. What she saw chilled her. He was looking at her with glittering eyes.
"That may be, Firestarter, but have no doubt, you are mine. You saw it the other night when we danced. You can be sorry all you want, but in the end, it will do no good." His hand around her waist curled her closer. She was leaning into him again, despite the screaming voice inside her head that told her to run. He ran her hair through the fingers of his free hand and snarled softly as her breathing became ragged. "The way we danced together was intoxicating, for both of us. I will wait, but not forever. Patience is a virtue that Malfoys are not known to possess," he whispered before releasing her.
She stumbled backwards and nearly fell. He was watching her with hooded eyes, but made no move to stop her as she strode briskly away. She was back inside the castle before she knew it, nearly sprinting down the passage to her rooms. She skittered to a stop outside the painting and gasped out "oriental poppies". She collapsed on the bed, shaking, though she didn't know why. She wasn't afraid; she wasn't cold. Curled into a ball, still dressed from the outside, she wondered just when it was that her life became this out of control.
*** ***
Draco pulled out his chair and slumped down at the breakfast table. Late nights were not good for morning classes, and he rubbed his eyes blearily. Especially ones as draining as the one the night before. The position of Head Boy seemed better and better since he didn't have to deal with any curious glances and irritating whispers returning to the dorms at dawn. He didn't need that aggravation, especially not now.
He picked up his fork and poked at what he believed to be a sausage in the middle of his plate. Instead of puncturing meat, the fork merely pushed the object away with a scratch. He rubbed his eyes again and picked up a neatly rolled parchment, tied with a silver ribbon. Carefully he unrolled it and read the neat script,
Draco,
I found this in an old Native American text in the library this morning. It is part of a legend for the Okanogan People. I thought it was very interesting reading.
Willow
"Poor Coyote's knees grew weak. He sank down by the fire in that great tepee. The heart of the Spirit Chief was touched when he saw the lowered
head of Coyote, the mischief-maker. After a silence the Chief spoke, "You are Coyote! You are the hated among all the tribes, among all the people.
I have chosen you from among all others to make you sleep, to go to the land of the dream visions. I make a purpose for you, a big work for you to do before another change comes to the people. You are to be father for all the tribes, for all the new kind of people who are to come. Because you
are so hated, degraded and despised, you will be known as the Trick-person. You will have power to change yourself into anything, any object you wish when in danger or distress. There are man-eating monsters on the earth who are destroying the people. The tribes cannot increase and grow as I wish. These monsters must all be vanquished before the new people come. This is your work to do. I give you powers to kill these monsters. I have given your twin, Fox, power to help you, to restore you to life should you be killed. Your bones may be scattered; but if there is one hair left
on your body, Fox can bring you back to life. Now go, despised Coyote! Begin the work laid out for your trail. Do good for the benefit of your people.""
Attached was a photograph of a coyote hunting amongst the scrubs of the Sierra Nevada. "Huh. She's right!" he mumbled, "I am a coyote."
He looked to the other end of the table where Willow usually sat. Her seat was empty and he just caught the flash of scarlet hair as she vanished through the door to the hallway. So, no permanent damage done. She wouldn't have left this otherwise. He smiled to himself and mentally ran through the list of supplies in the box beneath his bed. Soon, he affirmed to himself. It will be soon. No more waiting.
Willow gripped her cup of coffee and trotted out of the Great Hall as quickly as she could. She wasn't avoiding anyone, particularly; she merely felt the call of the library -loudly- beating her around the temples- that morning, despite having just left minutes before. Her best attempts to sleep at all the night before failed miserably, and she'd found herself creeping down the corridors at full dawn, replaying the night's events, unable to relax. Figuring that Draco didn't often find himself proved wrong, she set out to find some coyote related information to shove his direction. She grinned as she remembered coming across the paragraph she'd recopied for him. It suits him to a T.
The corridor path to the library was becoming shorter and shorter; sanctuary was in sight. Sighing in relief, she took another sip of coffee. A strong hand gripped her elbow, and she didn't even need to look to know who it was.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," she chirped, much more enthusiastically than she felt. Hearing a muffled snort, she turned to see piercing blue eyes regarding her seriously.
"Miss Rosenberg, are you feeling better?" At the brief look of confusion that swirled across her features, he continued, "Severus assured us that you weren't feeling well yesterday, so it's wonderful to see you up and about again."
She laughed a bit nervously and replied, "Oh, yes. I feel much better, thank you. And yourself, did you have a nice dance?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why, yes, young lady, I did. Lovely dancing all around, wouldn't you say? As a matter of fact, I haven't had a chance to talk with you since the events in Hogsmeade this weekend. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to wait in my office? I have a few more things to take care of, but I'll be right along." His tone brooked no argument, but Willow felt no animosity. He pushed her gently in the direction of his staircase, watching to make sure she took the suggestion seriously.
So now Willow found herself sitting Dumbledore's office, half convinced that Principal Snyder was going to waltz in and verbally redecorate the office with her intestines. It was an interesting feeling, and one not missed in the years since his 'Principalness' was munched on Graduation Day. Deciding that memory lane was a bit too crowded today, she used the quiet minute until Dumbledore returned to study the office.
In her previous encounters, she had always been a bit distracted. Now on the other hand, she was truly impressed with what she saw. Fawkes was on his perch, balefully glaring in her direction after her entry roused him from his morning nap. The early morning sun gleamed on his feathers, sending prisms of light around the office as he rustled. She followed the paths of the light beams, smiling as they struck one fascinating object after another.
Dumbledore seemed awfully fond of semi-scientific contraptions made of brass or other shiny metals, with beautiful engravings and lovely stones. She walked to one shelf, and sent the myriad of worlds spinning with just one touch. The planets whirled by, dancing a complex ballet, and she smiled. Wouldn't it be simple, if my world revolved on like this? Nice and simple, things ordered and in their places. She sighed and poked around the other objects on the shelves. I swear, if I was a cat, I'd have used up most of my lives by now. Just look at me, I can't keep my nose out of his shelves!
She snorted and stalked back to her seat. Before she fully sat down, though, something caught her eye. Across the office, slumped unobtrusively, was a dingy brownish felt hat. Willow's fingers twitched, and despite her resolve to sit quietly and wait, she took the four steps to the bookcase. Eye to eye with the Sorting Hat, she breathed out a very quiet, "Hello?" It remained quiet and still, and scrunching her nose in disappointment, she turned away.
"Not very polite to wake everything in here up from a nap." Willow half jumped and whipped her head around. "So what did you want?"
Not exactly sure of the proper way to address apparel she stuttered a bit, "Uh, um, I-I was wondering, that is, I'm sorry I woke you up… I didn't know hats slept, or talked really. Neato though, talking hats. I wonder, can other hats talk?"
"Of course we nap, silly girl! Otherwise, I'd go blind from boredom. And my cousin, a natty looking bowler, is an excellent conversationalist. But you didn't come here to talk about my family tree, did you? I wonder what you want? Could it possibly be you want to be sorted?" She blinked. "I thought so, always people wanting to know where they fit in. Never could figure out why."
"Well, could you tell me? I know I'm a bit old, but I'd really like to know." The tip of the hat slowly wagged back and forth, and the felt face narrowed its eyes and pursed its lips. Willow stood up a little bit straighter and raised her chin.
"You have great courage, and determination. You seek recognition and approval, despite inherent modesty. You are quick witted and have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, but will seek the easy path when confronted. The loyalty to your friends is unquestionable, provided their loyalty is unquestionable in return. But most of all, I see power, so bright it blinds. You are capable of great and dreadful deeds." It paused and seemed to regard her for a moment. "But I can't help you. You don't want to be sorted, you want to belong. Categories are not instant companions. You may be desperately afraid of being alone, even to the point of crippling your decisions, but that does not mean there is no place for you."
Gripping her hands to fists at her side, Willow was almost vibrating in frustration. "You tell me all these horrible things about myself, and can't even tell me where I belong?!? What kind of Sorting Hat are you? Sort me, damn it!"
"They aren't all bad qualities, you know." Willow whipped around to see Dumbledore seated neatly at his seat. "And I think it was right not to answer your request. No one fits neatly into any one house, not when they're children, certainly not when they are adults. You know better than anyone I've ever met about the different sides to each and every person." He leveled his eyes at her and indicated she should take a seat.
Her hands were trembling as she wound her fingers together in her lap. She had no idea what to expect out of this meeting. Dumbledore seemed to know so much of what went on in Hogwarts, and outside, that she didn't know what he had 'seen' in the past two days. The incident in Hogsmeade was a matter of public record, he'd been at the dance to see the Arabesque with Draco, but she was terrified that he may somehow know of her indiscretion with Snape in the hallway, or even her midnight flight with Draco. Raising her eyes to look the headmaster in the face, she was surprise at the kind, if mildly disapproving, smile lighting his countenance. "Sir?"
"I feel remiss. We haven't had a chance to talk about what happened this weekend, on any front. You were very brave in the village, and we are most grateful for your assistance." He steepled his hands, the rainbow blue sleeves falling down from his wrists. "It is never easy to face the enemy, whether within or without. While it may have been nice to have the Death Eaters for questioning, you undoubtedly did a great public service. Thank you."
Willow flushed a fetching shade of red, and ducked her head. "You're welcome; it was the least I could do." He smiled in return.
"And you looked lovely at the dance. I had no idea that you were so familiar with some of the more obscure wizarding customs." The silence stretched heavy pregnant between them. Willow met his eyes clearly, but offered no explanation. "An interesting choice of dancing partner as well. Young Mister Malfoy certainly has raised some questions this year. There's been an admirable restraint on his temper. How unusual for a Malfoy. Then there's his extracurricular activities. Always bending the rules, he's not been one to flagrantly flout them by flying around the castle at night."
Willow was frozen. A flicker from across the room caught her attention, and she found herself staring fixedly at the still revolving celestial universe. One loop after another, the polish brass worlds spun glimmering in the morning light. Dumbledore made a dismissing motion with his hands, and her attention snapped back to the wizard across the desk.
"Whatever your relationship with Mister Malfoy the Younger, I will have to trust you not to act in a fashion which will endanger any of the students. I welcomed you into our school, because you are of great aid to our cause. That said; I have no idea what transpired between you and Severus in the hallway after the dance. He has only been that rattled once before in my presence: when he came here seeking sanctuary those many years ago. Whatever you said or did to him, it left quite an impression. I have the utmost faith you will refrain from a repeat performance."
Unable to speak, Willow could only let out a squeak and nod her head. She could feel the shame and mortification burning its way down her hands, causing her fingertips to tingle and grow numb. No matter what I do, I can never escape. She sighed softly and gathered her voice to speak.
"Professor Dumbledore. I would never endanger any innocent, much less any of the students at this school. What transpired between Professor Snape and I was a lapse in judgment, but I believe we have come to an understanding. I look forward to working closely with him in the future; I believe we have a lot to offer each other." She took a deep breath. "As for my relationship with Draco? It remains to be seen. I know he's a Malfoy, he's made that abundantly clear, and he really knows nothing about me. I have to believe that everyone is redeemable; or I would not be able to live with myself."
The kindly wizard looked at the quiet desperation in her eyes, and his heart melted. "Sometimes I forget how difficult it is to be young, particularly young and powerful. I am not angry with you, child. I merely worry for you, and I forget how young you really are. Your eyes speak of such pain and experience, things only a few can relate to. Whatever you experienced in your world, you will be welcome in ours." He tilted his head and regarded her for a moment. "I understand your curiosity about the sorting. Each house had wonderful attributes, and I do believe you would have done well in whichever you chose, or whichever chose you."
They both fell silent, as Fawkes rustled and flew to Dumbledore's shoulders. The phoenix sang one pure note which cascaded over the room, reverberating and redoubling. Dumbledore smiled and reached to scratch his familiar's head. Ruffling the feathers, he turned back to Willow. "There is one more that would like to talk to you, if you feel up to it."
Willow nodded, "Minerva?"
He smiled. "Minerva."
*** ***
The morning classes were still in session, and she took her time traversing the corridors to the Transfiguration classroom. While this conversation didn't cause the butterflies in her stomach to become pterodactyls like the previous one had, she wasn't exactly looking forward to it. Minerva McGonagall had become her friend, and it is always hardest to face ones friends after falling down, or at least behaving strangely. Shaking her head, she tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robes. The door to the classroom was open, and she could hear the lecture continuing on.
Poking her head around the doorjamb, she sniffed in surprise as she discerned the occupants. The seventh year Slytherins were sharing a class with the Hufflepuffs. The subject appeared to be animating furniture for rearranging, and she laughed to see several young men tackling a chaise that had gotten slightly out of control. Finally subdued, the boys held it down while a rattled looking Professor McGonagall charmed it back to its normal state with a huff.
"I said turn it into a horse, not into horseplay! Now, if we can please refocus…" Willow let her attention wander as the lesson continued. She took a seat at the back of the room and surveyed the students. The thug like pair that always trailed along after Draco were snickering about something, but the class was otherwise quiet. They shifted slightly and she could see Draco's pale hair in the seat in front of them. She narrowed her eyes, but made no movement.
So what do you think to accomplish? Sweep me of my feet in one fell swoop? Do you even know anything about me? Why me? She worried her lip with her top teeth and let her gaze unfocus. Blinking, she suddenly sat up straight. I could swear I just saw… No. That's impossible! She unfocused her eyes again, like she was looking at one of those Magic Eye posters in the mall. And she saw it again, woven faintly through Draco's outline: the lean, predatory shape of a coyote, shimmering in and out of focus. She shook her head sharply and scanned the rest of the room.
Professor McGongall was leaning against the desk at the front of the room. As Willow's sight crossed the dais, she could see the form of a black and gray tabby, loosely clinging to the angular frame of the teacher. Willow stood up sharply, knocking over her chair in the process. Twenty five pairs of eyes turned her way, and she waved, blushing furiously.
"Sorry about that."
McGonagall smiled a tight smile and inclined her head. "We'll use the distraction provided to see what the students have learned. Mister Malfoy. Why don't you see what you can do with this coat rack." Draco smirked and turned it into a crane which gracefully stalked to the side of the room he indicated and he reformed it into a coat rack with a swish of his wand. He tilted his head in Willow's direction and arched his eyebrow.
Still irritated from the night before, but finding herself unable to work up and real anger, she couldn't help grinning Minerva's grudging "Nice work" before moving on to the next pupil. Draco turned away and sat back down, once again obscured by his cronies. Soon though, the class was over. The students filed out and as Draco passed Willow at the doorway, he paused. Their eyes locked and for the briefest second, Willow held her breath. Then he was gone, snarking something to the other Slytherins about the next Quidditch game as they marched to lunch.
Hesitant, Willow descended the stairs. "Hi. I thought I should talk to you about what happened at the dance." The older woman nodded and pulled out two chairs. "I heard that you used to dance beautifully with your husband. I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to see that."
Minerva smiled ruefully. "It was lovely, and you would have liked him. I'm surprised at you though- do they dance that particular dance in your dimension?"
Willow shook her head. "No, and I have no idea how I managed. I really had never seen it done before, and didn't know a thing about it till after the dance was over. Draco wasn't into enlightening me ahead of time." She grimaced. "And don't think for a moment that little coyote is going to get away with it. Stupid Slytherins and their schemes." She looked hopefully at her friend. "I really didn't have any idea, and by no means meant to upset you. But believe me when I tell you nothing went wrong because of it. Draco may surprise you yet."
"I'm sure," she added sourly, "He has been cleaning up his act recently. But that doesn't mean that what transpired will be safe, or beneficial. Please take care of yourself. Many of our ways are different than yours, even different from the Muggles of this world. I wouldn't want you hurt. I just don't trust that boy…" She trailed off. Unspoken, the Malfoy family name and history hung in the air. As if reaching a decision, Willow reached out her hands and covered the teacher's. They regarded each other for a moment, and Willow broke the silence.
"One of the nice things about me is being eternal optimism girl. You know, laughing in the face of danger with the other Scoobies… I promise I'll be careful." She paused and fiddled with her sleeves. "Actually, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about. Remember when we tried the animagus transformations before? I think I know why you were so upset… It's because I could take more than one form, right?" At the nod of affirmation, she continued. "I don't know why I could. Everything that I've been able to find indicated that the form was a reflection of the witch or wizard's personality. Perhaps there are more facets to me than one form can take, so my magic allows for a little more leniency."
Minerva pursed her lips. "That may be, and with whatever power that you have that eclipses ours, you may be able to actualize those differences."
"There's something else. When I made that racket earlier, it was because I noticed something. I could see your animagus form without you transforming. It was like it was a part of your shadow or soul or whatever. Other students, who don't transform, don't have that. I wonder… Has that ever happened before?"
The older woman was staring at her in shock, again. "Um, er. No. That's never been documented. How did it happen?"
Willow waved her hands a bit, "Well. I just sort of unfocused my eyes, like with those three-D pictures, you know the dot ones?" Minerva shook her head. "Oh. You have to kinda uncross or unfocus your eyes, and these pictures pop out. Anyway, that's like what happened, but now that I know it's there, I can look and see it superimposed on you. It's seriously weird."
"I would tend to agree. Do you think this would work with finding out whether others are animagi but not registered?"
Willow scrunched her brows and traced the outline of her lips with her fingertip. "It may, but I'd want a test case, that I don't know of ahead of time… Is there someone here who would work?" Minerva shook her head. "Then I guess we won't know. Come on. Its lunch time, whaddya say we go grab a bite to eat?" Smiling, Minerva stood; glad the tension between them was less, though she was still concerned. They followed the trail of hungry students to the Great Hall. Willow's eyes swept the crowd, slightly unfocused. Seeing nothing amiss, she turned her new and improved eyesight to the front table. Gasping, she stopped.
"What is it child? Do you see something?"
Nervously, Willow turned back to the other woman. "No, nothing. I'm sorry I startled you." She smiled brightly and grabbed a roll as she sat down, looking everywhere except at Professor Snape, glowering and eating quietly as the form of a black fox settled itself along his body.
Willow was dreaming.
She was sure she was dreaming, because Tara was there. The golden light of afternoon streamed through the leaves on the trees and lit up the honey colored strands of her lover's hair. Taking one item at a time out of the picnic basket, Tara arranged lunch. Sighing, Willow leaned back on her elbows and drank in the warm California air. Frowning, she looked around again. I know this place. The broad meadow, overhung with branches, so beautiful it hurt. Willow turned questioning eyes to Tara, who merely smiled.
"This is your place, not mine. I only borrow it." She handed Willow a glass of tea. She raised her own glass to her lips, but did not drink. "Some things to be said; and here is where it began."
Willow sat bolt upright as a graceful fawn picked its way towards them. It placed one delicate hoof after another, scenting the air after each step. Willow watched entranced until a flickering shadow caught her eye. Along the edge of the meadow, in the semi-darkness of shade, two canine figures wove between the bushes. The larger was light silver, and Willow was almost sure she could hear it laughing. The smaller one was dark as night and slunk as silently as death. She held her breath as they crouched, preparing to spring into action.
Her fingers trembled as she held out her hand, but the fawn shied from her touch and climbed into Tara's lap. "This," Tara gestured to the space around them, "Is not for you anymore. It's time for you to move on." The fawn nuzzled her hand and Tara smiled fondly. "I wish we could stay, but you have more important things to do. Trust yourself. For in the end, that will be all you see, though not all you have."
Tears formed in Willow's eyes and she gathered her legs beneath her. "Why, Tara? Why come to me now?" Frowning, Tara shook her head.
"I will always come for you, but that's not what you ask. You have work to do, and you need me to release you."
A sob broke from Willow's throat. "No! Don't go! I can't let you go; you can't leave me!"
"Willow, honey, don't you understand? I'll never leave you. I would never leave you, but I release you. That's all you need to know." She smiled and offered Willow an apple. "You know what I must do now." With a sympathetic smile, she stroked the soft fur across the fawn's back. Sighing, Tara urged the fawn to stand, and pushed it out into the field. As one, the fox and coyote launched themselves from the underbrush. Willow screamed and made to run forward, but was halted by Tara's hand.
"Willow, stop. There is a balance to all things. That which is forbidden…" she shrugged, "May not always be. It all depends on the nature of the beast. Look for that."The fawn's struggles ceased and she could barely breathe. Looking up, Tara was standing before her. Laying one hand on her head, Tara faded away with the light of the day, leaving Willow alone in the dark.
Willow jerked awake. The library was dark and empty. She rubbed her cheek where it rested on the pile of books, grimacing at the ink smudge that came away at her touch. Wonderful. I need to get better sleep. I bet I missed dinner. Sighing, she collected her things and made her way out of the library.
This week had been long, the hours watching the students in class dragged on, and she found herself more often retreating to the sanctuary of the library. Madame Pinze had long given up on trying to convince Willow to leave with the other students, and merely conjured up a key for Willow's use. Longing for the days of Scooby meetings and jelly doughnuts, she carefully locked the door behind her.
*** ***
Draco plastered the sneer across his face. Assured that their ringleader agreed, Crabbe and Goyle continued their discussion.
"So this summer. Right after graduation. My father says that there will be a large ceremony, and we'll take the mark then." Goyle turned somewhat dim, questioning eyes at Draco.
"Mmm, yes. That sounds about right. Once we're out of this goody-two-shoes institution, we can really show them what we're made of," he drawled. The conversation continued, ebbing and flowing around some of the senior Slytherins. He hadn't intended on staying this late in the common room, but sometimes it was good to remind the student body who was in charge. So, here he was stuck listening to this claptrap the other Death Eaters dolled out to their children. He was almost positive that they were following whatever rules his father had laid out, not that he'd bothered to ask. Finally fed up, he stood. "As fascinating as this is, I have some detentions to give out. Bet I can find some more of those whiny Hufflepuffs wandering around late at night. 'Not another night cleaning the trophies! Wail!' Pathetic." The crowd made the appropriate snarky remarks and he swirled out of the room, heading out into the dungeons.
He wasn't really actively searching for students to harass; he merely wished to get away. It was becoming harder and harder to nod along with the Mini-Death Eater camp. Not that he had any particular opinion on the subject matter, only on the Dark Lord himself. Useless old prat. Outlived his time. And Father, Merlin bless him, won't be happy when I refuse the mark. He sighed. Old arguments, well, as old as the summer anyway. Draco had no intention of playing second fiddle to his father for the rest of his existence, dark power or no, which meant no Lord Voldemort boot licking in the future. I've found something I'd much rather lick, and I'm sure it will taste considerably better than old Snake Face's boots, he snickered slightly
Deciding to forgo the nightly ritual of stalking the unfortunate, he headed back to his rooms. Another advantage to Head Boy, my own rooms, with my own mini laboratory. If I'd paid attention, I'd have asked Father for this long ago. Shaking his head, he bent down on his knees and scrabbled under the bed. Finally finding what he was looking for, he hauled the box to the center of the room. He took out the contents one by one, saving the small box from Nimela's Glitters and the book from his mother for last.
Grinning he sorted ingredients and found the right page of the book. Tonight was as good a time as any to try the spell and he gathered his magic to him carefully. "Spirits of the lost and forgotten, bound to hear my call…" The room flickered, and the candles burned brighter. Satisfied, Draco continued.
*** ***
Grim light created sucking shadows amongst the jars and containers. It was never cheery in the dungeons, and the potions classroom could become downright depressing in the winter. Uncaring, Snape added another pinch to the bubbling cauldron and gave it a cursory swirl while reading over a passage in large leather bound book. Or at least Willow thought it was leather.She'd wandered down to the dungeons in search of comfort. Why she chose the dungeons, she had no idea. Rattled from her dream, she retreated to the darker places of the castle, perhaps searching places that her bruised soul would feel comfortable. Now she merely lurked in a corner of the classroom, watching Professor Snape's graceful, pale fingers weave over the potion in a complicated dance.
Seeing his form at lunch earlier that week had unsettled her more than she cared to admit. Combined with the passage about coyotes, it just seemed too much of a coincidence for her to ignore. Ignoring coincidences on Hellmouths got you dead. This might not be a Hellmouth, but she didn't want to take any chances. She shifted slightly, and the faint sound caused Snape to raise his head. A heartbeat went by and he turned to meet her eyes.
"Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to help me?" Willow started slightly, but walked forward to the work bench. "You've a hand for potions, a scientific mind I suppose. Cut these up, and measure them into even piles." Grateful for the distraction, she set about slicing dandelion roots perfectly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the effortless motion of Snape twisting his hair back behind his ears. Mortified, she heard herself say, "So, what's with the hair. I mean, you're a handsome guy, you even look a bit like a movie star back home…" she trailed off. Red faced, she resumed cutting the roots.
He merely arched an eyebrow and went back to reading. After a small break, he took a deep breath. "I don't think anyone has ever compared me to a movie star." He smiled a bit ruefully. "Then again, most people don't take the liberty of commenting on my personal appearance. Though, you are not most people, are you?" Willow wasn't sure what to say, so she merely stayed quiet. Adding the roots, Snape handed her another set of plants to chop up.
"If you were referring to my personal grooming, I honestly don't give it much thought. With all the awful things in the world today, the state of my coiffeure isn't top on the list." He added quietly, "But if it makes you happy, I'll see what I can do." Holding her breath, Willow waited for the sarcastic comment. Hearing none, she raised her head. He was looking at her with the strangest expression on his face. "I don't know what it is about you. I don't think I'll ever understand. One day I want to banish you from this world. The next, I want to protect you from all the evils out there, knowing full well that you know them as well as I do, yet choose to fight them anyway." He shook his head. "What an enigma."
Willow could feel tears tickling the back of her eyelids. "Um, thanks I think. I'm sorry I said anything. It really was rude."
He snorted. "Yes it was. But you're American. Certain allowances must be made."
"Hey!"
He chuckled quietly as he added the new ingredients. "Well, this has to sit for a few minutes. Can I offer you some tea? I noticed you missed dinner. Again." Nodding, he led the way to his office, summoning a pot of tea from the fireplace, he poured two cups. "I think it's also safe to say you didn't come down here to chop roots and bulbs."
She accepted the cup and sat down. "I had a dream." He merely regarded her impassively. "I know it sounds strange, but where I come from there are dreams and then there are 'dreams'. Somehow I think this was one of the latter. But, I'm not sure I'm supposed to have them. Then only other time something like this happened, the First Slayer tried to kill me, and others, in our dreams because we tapped into the primal power outlet to destroy Adam. Buffy gets Slayer dreams that are supposed to help her fight evil and all that. But I'm not one of those hero types. I dunno."
"I also don't know why you Americans persist in butchering our language. But if you think it's important, then it most likely is. Dreams are not unknown to us, but usually are the domain of seers. Though, not Trelawney type seers." He rolled his eyes. "Would you like to tell me what it was about?"
Blanching, Willow shook her head. "Um, not really. Suffice it to say, Tara- remember Tara? - was there, and reminded me what I had done in the past. And she kept saying she released me." She started to tear up again. "I don't know why I'm going all weepy on you. I'm sorry. I just… I dunno. It's hard seeing her again, especially since she felt so real." She looked up from under trembling lashes. "And I think you were in the dream too." He motioned for her to continue. "Well, I think both you and Draco were, but not as you are now, rather… um… in your other forms…" She met his eyes, expecting a reaction. His pupils flared, but he was outwardly calm.
"Would you care to elaborate?"
Fidgeting, she continued. "I guess you know this has been sort of a weird past couple of days. Anyway, I learned a new trick. You know I can see auras, right? Well, this is just a different version of that. I can see animagus forms for people who possess them - like you for instance. You're a black fox."
Snape was frozen, his tea cup halfway to his lips. Neither of them moved a muscle until he set the cup back down on the desk. "What do you know of that," he hissed; his eyes narrow.
Raising her hands in a gesture of peace, Willow hastened to explain. "Oh! I haven't told anyone, if that's what you're worried about. I only noticed on Monday, and I've been debating about telling you all week." She looked miserable. "Actually, I was hoping I never would have to. I hate secrets, and I'm no good at them. But you know that already."
He had relaxed slightly, but his eyes were glittering dangerously. "And what, pray tell, was I doing in your dream. In you dream with Mr. Malfoy, I might add."
"You were stalking the fawn." Her wide green eyes met his, and she trembled. "I won't explain more than that. You, the fox, and Draco, the coyote, were stalking the fawn. And Tara allowed you to."
"And this fawn has some significance to you? This is the fawn you showed me the other night, related to the Mother?"
"Yes." She glared at him, despite her uneasiness, and refused to explain further.
"I see. And whatever we did has upset you, so you sought me out. Why not Malfoy?" He sneered, "Since you two have become so close?" She flinched, but clamped her mouth shut. "Well. What do you expect me to do about it?"
"I don't have any idea. I thought, since you've had more experience in the magic of this world, you'd help explain it to me. And I think you should read this." She thrust a worn book at him, and he flicked a bewildered glance in her direction. "It's a naming creation myth. And it's a little too close for comfort. Just read it."
They glared at each other for a few more minutes, until Snape stood suddenly and strode back out into the laboratory. She watched him stir the cauldron with rough jerks a few times before he turned to face her, still leaning against the lab bench.
"I am not sure who knows about the fox. It is recent, if you must know. I am trapped here, the school and the town. I'm safe under Dumbledore's protection, but if I leave?" He raised his arms, outstretched, "I am a fair target for any Death Eater who wants to make Voldemort happy. As a fox, I have a little more freedom." Willow nodded and he continued. "I do what I can. But sometimes, I just have to get away. This was the form allowed to me." He faced away from her once again. "I don't know why I was in your dream, with or without Draco Malfoy. I'll read your myth, but don't expect any blinding insights. I'm not some guru with all the answers, so don't hope for them." The last bit was delivered with such harsh bitterness that Willow's heart went out to him. "I think it's safe to assume that our world is heading for some interesting times. We must do what we can." He waved his hand in dismissal, and Willow slipped out the door to the hallway. As the door shut, she leaned against it heavily, sliding to the floor, head in hands.*** ***
The candles blew out, and Draco was knocked across his room. Groaning, he looked around for his wand. Finding it, he relit the candles, as well as the fire in the grate. The room was windblown, but his workspace was strangely untouched. Stretching his exhausted muscles, he stumbled back to the table.
Most of his early experience in Dark Magic had been under his father's direct tutelage. In the past years, he'd experimented on his own, nothing serious, or too damning, but nothing had prepared him for this. He wasn't even sure it qualified as Dark Magic, only that it hadn't been used since the dark ages, and probably for good reason. It had required intense concentration and discipline, something that most wizards lacked, and Draco was pleased that it appeared he'd pulled it off. Good old Malfoy determination. Glad to see you pulled through. He wouldn't know for sure though, until he'd made his real play, but for now, he was delighted that he hadn't obliterated the castle, or himself. He'd hate to have to explain that one to his mother.
A wave of nausea and exhaustion hit, and he retched, gripping the table with pale, strained fingers. The box from Nimela's was glowing slightly and he held it up in the light. Breathing deep in relief, he staggered to the bed, the box clutched close. He fell across the covers, curled fetally with eyes squeezed shut against the pain.
There was pounding. Draco couldn't figure out if it was in his head or in his room, but he could really care less. He rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head, groaning at the effort. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed himself back to sleep.
*** ***
The morning was bright and clear for the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match. The gold and black banners flapped cheerfully from the Hufflepuff stands and the silver and blue ones swayed proudly from the Ravenclaw side of the pitch. Willow joined the other professors whose houses weren't playing today in the faculty box. Minerva was chatting happily about the prospect of a Hufflepuff victory, since it was likely they would beat them this year, and thus save some face from the Slytherin disaster. Willow nodded at the appropriate times, but wasn't really listening.
She scanned the stands for familiar faces, frowning when she saw Draco's flunkies and no Draco. Her heart fell and she was mildly surprised at how much she'd been looking forward to seeing him that morning. She'd spent the remainder of the previous night wandering the halls, thinking she may run into him. It was his night for hall duty but he'd been nowhere to be found. Eventually she'd returned to her rooms, and fretted over her discussion with Snape. No matter how she tried to wrap her mind around it, she was concerned. She desperately hoped he'd have some answers.
The man in question ascended the stairs to the stands. He looked around, but refused to meet her eyes. Stung, she nearly stood to catch his attention, but stopped as Madame Hooch started the game. While the match didn't have the vitriolic intensity of the Slytherin v Gryffindor games, it was well played, and Willow found it considerably easier to follow. Minerva was more than happy to answer any questions, and swallowing her wounded pride, Willow turned her back on the surly Snape and decided to enjoy the game.
The Hufflepuffs had a solid team, while not as showy as the Ravenclaws, they got the job done. In a mere 4 hours the snitch was caught and the Hufflepuff stand erupted in cheers. Willow smiled as she gathered her belongings and prepared to follow everyone out of the teacher's stand. As she turned, she saw Professor Snape glaring in her direction. She jerked back from the look in his eyes, but he offered no explanation, swirling his black outer robes around him and stalking away. The humiliation and confusion burned on Willow's skin. She took a deep breath, and willed the irritation away. He knew more about her than anyone here, and she'd thought that they'd made progress to being friends if not closer. He'd reminded her of home, in a mildly psychotic fashion, and she desperately wanted his approval. She shook her head and threw back her shoulders. If he didn't want to talk to her, she'd find someone who did.
*** ***
Goyle was confused. He didn't often admit to being confused, but it seemed about time. He was a follower, and liked it. He enjoyed knowing where he stood and his relative status in the power structure. Unfortunately, lately, the leader of his little pack was acting strange. He grunted and waved at Crabbe.
"Hey, you said he didn't answer this morning when you knocked?"
Crabbe shook his head after taking a bite of brownie. "Nuh uh. Millie and I stopped by. Should we check on him?"
"Guess so. Come on girls." The two thugs in training, escorted by Pansy and Millicent, wandered down the hall in the direction of the Head Boy and Girl's rooms. Stopping at a painting of frolicking field mice, Goyle raised his hefty fist and banged on the door. After a moment, the door cracked open and Draco appeared looking very worse for the wear. He was wearing yesterday's clothes and his hair was sticking up in all directions. What startled his cronies was his face. He had enormous black circles under his eyes, which were accented by a spider web network of tiny burst blood vessels.
"What!" he snapped. "What time is it?"
Shocked, Goyle took a step backwards. "The game finished half an hour ago. Crabbe tried to get you up this morning, but you wouldn't answer the door." The four of them looked at him in an awkward moment of silence before Pansy pushed forward.
"Drac, dear, you look awful. What happened to you last night?" Trailing after her, the others filed into the room, and Draco shut the door firmly.
"Nothing happened, Pansy. I'm fine." She crossed her arms and gave him a measured glance. He threw up his hands. "Really, Pansy. I just didn't sleep well, that's all."
She sent him a look that dripped disbelief. "You aren't doing something to piss your dad off, are you? Remember this summer, the incident with Ogdens? It was bad enough you were hung over; when he was done with you, do you remember wishing you were dead? Well, just make sure to keep your sorry Malfoy hide intact." She flounced over to the fireplace and lay down on his couch.
Crabbe poked through a pile of boxes on the window sill. "Hey, Malfoy? Your mum send any more of those cookies?" Draco rolled his eyes and accio'd a box from the table. Crabbe dove in and came up with a fist full of various cookies. He passed the box to Millicent and Pansy on the couch. Draco watched them with growing frustration.
"Look, I appreciate the concern. But really, I'm fine. Really." He walked across the room to the door, hoping they'd get the hint and leave. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. Goyle passed the worktable by the bed and picked up the long slim box from under a pile of papers. Draco moved faster than any of them had ever seen and pinned Goyle's wrist with strong, slender fingers.
His friend squeaked manfully and dropped the box into Draco's waiting hand. Goyle met Draco's eyes merely inches from his face, and shivered. They were slightly wild, overly bright and he didn't blink. "If you don't mind, Goyle, I'd appreciate you keeping your paws out of my things," he hissed. He struggled with the desire to wipe the floor with Goyle's pudgy face but talked himself out of it, just barely. The fit of anger passed and Draco looked around the room. The four constant people in his life at Hogwarts were staring at him like he'd grown another head. Consciously slowing his breathing, he released Goyle's wrist. "As I said, I slept poorly last night. You'll have to forgive me; I'm not myself this morning."
"Whatever, Drac." Pansy stood, hauling Millicent up with her. "When you decide to act like a human being again, let us know. We're getting together tonight after dinner; Millie's parents didn't lock their liquor cabinet, and she brought some new stuff for us to try. We've missed you recently. This Head Boy stuff seems to take up all your time." She looked at him a little wistfully. "We're your friends, and we miss you."
Draco was shocked. Slytherins never admitted feelings, unless it worked to their advantage. He realized a bit belatedly that with his preoccupation with the mystery that was Willow Rosenberg, he hadn't been paying attention to house politics like he should. He saw the way Crabbe and Goyle were looking at him, and it finally made sense. They were lost without a leader, and to them, it looked as if he'd abandoned them. Oh Merlin. What have I done? Where is the Draco they followed for almost seven years? Gone in the blink of a red headed woman's eye. He shook his head and pulled up some of the old Malfoy swagger.
"Sorry, luv. Been a bit preoccupied. Big things happening this summer. I just want to make a good impression." He winked. "I'll try to make it tonight. I've got some work to do later, since I've slept the day away, but I'll try. And if not tonight, then I'll owe you guys a couple of rounds at The Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade's weekend." The others visibly relaxed. Pansy dragged the ever-quiet Millicent to the door, kissing Draco on the cheek as she left. Crabbe stuffed another cookie in his face and clouted Draco on the shoulder, trotting after his girlfriend. As he stood in the doorway, Goyle turned around. Puzzlement was clearly written on his face, but he smiled tentatively.
"Ok, Malfoy. See you tonight. See if you can bring some more of your Mum's cookies. You know how the rest of the Slytherins love them." Draco nodded and shut the door firmly after him. Wobbling a bit, he returned to the bed, the box still in his hands. Caressing the wood cover, he began to plan his evening.
*** ***
Feeling frustrated, Willow stalked out of the Gryffindor Tower. She hadn't found Draco all day, and watching Snape avoid her at dinner only served to infuriate her more. As much as she'd enjoyed watching Minerva beat the wolfish socks off of Remus at wizarding chess, she couldn't shake the tension. The several glasses of wine had helped somewhat, but she was still wound. It was approaching weekend curfew as she trailed down the hallways, lost in her own little world. Suddenly, a lean figure in black stepped out of the shadows.
"Evening, Firestarter." Willow gasped and jumped back. "Care to walk with me a bit?" Draco offered his arm, and Willow linked hers through. His arm was warm under her hand; the muscles were lean but hard and she surreptitiously squeezed them, not seeing Draco's small smile in response. He inclined his head towards hers and asked quietly, "So, have you seen much of Hogwarts since you've been here?"
"No, not really. I haven't had a chance to explore much. I've been busy." He didn't press, so she felt no need to elaborate.
He directed them down another hallway. "In that case, a little tour is in order. So, why don't we start with some of the more entertaining paintings. This one here is from …"
They walked for almost an hour, chatting about this painting or that, Draco making introductions when he could, to the surprise of most of the paintings since he was not known to be that sociable, usually. After the couple passed on, the ladies in the paintings gathered around to gossip about this new development. Willow peered at him from the corner of her eye, wondering exactly when she started thinking of the minor villain from the life and times of Harry Potter as a fine person to spend an evening with.
Rounding a corner in one of the less used passages, Willow stilled, cocking her head. "Draco, wanna play a game?" He raised his eyebrow. Willow winked mischievously and motioned for him to lower his head. She whispered, "I've wanted to do this since I got here, but never had the opportunity. We're being followed." Draco stiffened, but Willow hugged his arm tighter. "Shhh. Just listen. Harry Potter and probably someone else are following us in an invisibility cloak." Draco's eyes widened in surprise but he remained quiet. "Let's give them a show."
Willow stopped right under a flickering torch. Their faces bathed in firelight, she reached up and placed her hand along Draco's face, caressing her fingers down his cheek. He dipped his head towards hers and gently met her lips with his. Neither expected the reaction they got; it was rapidly apparent that this was a game no longer. Draco felt like his lips were on fire, and the flames traveled down his throat to settle in his stomach. He wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her tighter. Willow moaned and leaned forward, tingling from the tips of her fingers down to the tightening feeling in her gut. Breaking the kiss for a breath, she blinked heavily and swayed in Draco's embrace. Before she had a chance to haul Draco's head down again, she heard a muted gag from a dark corner.
Remembering the original goal of the game, she flickered her eyelashes at him briefly before waving her hand in a manner oddly reminiscent of the Head of Slytherin House. The gasps of surprise were considerably less muted as the invisibility cloak whipped across the hallway into her waiting hand. She turned away from Draco, who wrapped his arm possessively around her shoulder. Narrowing her eyes, she calmly stated, "You may as well come out of the shadows, Harry. And probably Ron and Hermione from what I can tell." A sheepish Harry and three friends staggered forward. "Ginny, too? Well I'm not surprised. It is pretty rude of you to go wandering around snooping on people, and you might see something you don't want to. But then again, you've been doing this for years, and no one seemed to care. So why should we?"
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermoine beat him too it. "We're sorry, Willow. We were just worried, cause, you know, Malfoy. We didn't know what he wanted with you…" She trailed off as she watched Malfoy's hand slide possessively up Willow's arm, across her neck to trace the outline of her jaw. As his fingers brushed her lips, Willow parted her teeth and gently bit his finger. He let out a sub-audible moan as she licked the fingertip before releasing it.
Willow gave her a wicked smile and responded haughtily, "I'm sure you can see, Hermione, that nothing's amiss here." The four Gryffindors were openly staring now. Ron looked as if he might be sick, Harry was downright baffled, and the girls were looking at Malfoy as if they'd never seen him before.
"But, Willow, he's… evil. What are you doing?!?" Ron was barely holding it together. "You do know he's a Malfoy, right? As in spawn of Satan?" Hermione slapped his arm. "What? You hate him just as much as I do; don't tell me you support this."
"You're right, Weasley, I am a Malfoy. And Willow has every right to be with whomever she chooses. I'm just grateful that it's me," he sneered, though his tone lacked malice. Willow tilted her head to look at him intensely before readdressing the others.
"I know that you're Dumbledore adores you all, for good reason. But that doesn't give you the right to go sneaking around after us, just because you don't like who I'm with. I know very well who Draco is; there's no question in my mind. And while I know you did it out of concern for me, keep in mind that it is still an invasion of privacy." Everyone but Ron had the grace to flush. "You're just lucky I didn't turn you into a bunny or something to teach you a lesson," she joked, grinning as Draco pouted out his lower lip in mock disappointment.
The others didn't seem to get the humor, and Ginny gestured at Willow while whispering to Hermione, "She wouldn't really, would she?"
Willow laughed out loud, "Oh, Ginny, I'd never turn you into a bunny, Anya would kill me." At their puzzled looks, she fluttered her hands, "Bunny phobia. Never mind. I was kidding. It's late, and all of you besides Hermione are out past curfew. I suggest skedaddling on back to the tower before I decide to start acting like a teacher." Harry stepped forward to retrieve the offered invisibility cloak, ducking his head to avoid meeting her eyes. The foursome sulked as they walked away, whispering loudly.
Willow turned to Draco, smiling as she steered them back the other direction. Suddenly hyper aware of his nearness, she leaned closer. He still smelled of lightening, and Willow breathed deeply. Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's question.
"So how did you know?" She flushed and looked at the passing paintings closely before responding.
"I could feel them lurking back there. They weren't doing any harm, but it was irritating. I hate feeling like my life is under a microscope." He nodded and ran his hand down her hair to rest at her shoulders.
"I have something to show you," he murmured. Willow raised her eyebrows, but let her self be led. They wound their way to Draco's rooms in near silence, both mulling over the ramifications of the earlier kiss. Draco's soul was soaring; things were working out better than he'd hoped. Willow was feeling slightly off kilter. She was somewhat shocked at her audacity. All she was sure of was it felt right, like it filled a hole she didn't know she had.
Willow hadn't had much previous experience. Oz had been as reserved as he was in the rest of his life, usually letting Willow take the lead. Xander had been like kissing a slow moving train wreck, the feeling of oncoming dread usually overwhelmed any delight. And Tara, Tara was sweet, passive, nurturing and most of all, overwhelmingly woman. Willow couldn't fathom being with another woman; it would seem like a betrayal. But Draco? He was hard and forceful, aggressive and saturated with vitality, definitely male. And he tasted of oblivion, as if he could make her forget all of her heartache and pain, the pain of rejection and abandonment.
They reached the door; Draco muttered the password to the field mice. The door swung open and Willow stepped through. The room was lit instantly with candles on almost every free surface. Draco had taken time that afternoon to clean, and the room fairly sparkled. A pitcher of cold water, a kettle of tea, and a tray of cakes were on a low table by the fire. Draco led her to the seat and handed her a cup of fragrant steaming tea.
"Hang on, I'll be right back." Willow glanced around as Draco disappeared behind her. The room was plain, more so than most students' rooms. A few rapidly swooping Quidditch posters decorated one wall, the others were blank. There were a few photos on the mantle, mostly of what she believed were his parents. Lucius and Narcissa both had long white blond hair, both were immaculately attired, and both looked every inch upper crust. She decided she didn't like the way Lucius was looking down his nose at the camera and kept flicking invisible specks from his cloak. Narcissa wiggled her fingers back and forth, apparently watching the light refractions from her impressive gems outside the frame. They also both looked extremely bored.
She was so wrapped up in glaring back at his parents that she was startled to see Draco kneel in front of her chair. He had a slender box in his hands and his fingers trembled as he opened it. He looked at the contents for a moment, as if weighing a decision, before turning the case to Willow. She gasped.
On black velvet, two silver dollar sized pendants rested. One was a platinum dragon, wings outstretched in flight. Its ruby eyes gleamed, and a tongue of gold flame flickered out from between tiny diamond teeth. She ran a finger down its spiked back, and was hardly surprised to find it as sharp as razor blades. The other pendant was a golden willow tree. The leaves were rainbow colored opals, cascading down several graceful branches. It looked as if it was frozen mid breeze and Willow held her fingers over it to feel any stray gusts of air.
A smile stretched from one side of her face to the other and her eyes sparkled. "Oh, Draco, they're beautiful. They can't be both for me can they?"
He chuckled. "No they're not. One is; the other is for me." As she reached for the tree, he stalled her hand. "No, little Firestarter, the dragon is yours. Allow me?" She retracted her hand and leaned forward to let Draco attach the chain around her neck. It fell to the center of her chest and Draco smiled. "If you wouldn't mind…" He held the willow out to her, the opals glittering in the firelight.
As she reached to fasten the chain, she mused out loud, "I didn't think men wore pendants like this… maybe it's different here…" She looked up suddenly. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded…"
The corners of his mouth tilted up, but he didn't answer the question. He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. Assured of her attention, he spoke softly, "You know, you never have to be alone again. I am yours if you will have me." She tilted her head; and the part of her that yearned so desperately for companionship flared.
"I will have you, if you will return the favor. I don't like one sided bargains."
He nodded seriously. "If you make a deal with the devil you should be very sure of the terms." He paused for a moment to stroke the side of her face tenderly. "I have been yours since the first day I saw you, for now and forever more." He leaned forward and caught her lips in a kiss once more.
Willow responded with bruising passion. She pushed him backwards so fast he fell back on the rug before the fire. She leaned down to lick his neck, nibbling slightly on his earlobe before sitting up to look him in the eye. Very deliberately, she began to unbutton her robes. One by one, the buttons were gone, the robes sliding off her shoulders, until she was left in nothing more than her bra and underwear. Draco groaned and wiggled slightly beneath her. He drew his hands up her sides, relishing the pale skin, the way it highlighted the black lace of the bra. Her fingers were never still, returning the favor on his robes and shirt, pushing it away. She bent down and trailed her tongue across his chest, stopping to lick each nipple roughly.
He hissed and sat up suddenly. She squealed and would have toppled over if he hadn't stood, cradling her in one swift movement. He moved her to the bed, laying her down. He stood back and let his eyes roam over her body, creamy pale against navy sheets. Uncomfortably aware of the tightness in his pants, he lowered himself on to the bed beside her.
"Perfection, sheer perfection…" he whispered, stroking her hair as it fanned out around her head. The dragon gleamed on her chest, winking its ruby eye. He smiled and traced the outline of her breast with reverent fingers. He looked at her face, eyes hooded. She was smiling coquettishly and he jumped as he felt her fingers on the belt buckle of his pants.
"I think I remember how this goes…" She flipped him over on his back, unzipping and pushing off his pants in one smooth movement. She frowned slightly, and Draco raised a concerned brow. "It's nothing. Just been a while since the person I've removed the pants from has been a guy, that's all." A flash of pain flickered across her face, before she shook her head and smirked. "But since when has that stopped me."
He gasped as her tongue teased the band on his boxers, before she shoved them off to land on the floor with the rest of his clothes. She leaned back to look at the man before her. His hair was still bound up in a black leather thong, but otherwise, he was all shades of silver and light, the willow tree sparking in rainbow flames against the smooth skin. His eyes were wide and hungry, his lips curled up in a milder version of the Malfoy smirk. She ran her hands over muscles taught from flying and they rippled under her touch. He growled low in his chest and reached his arms around her body to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor where the panties followed rapidly.
Stretching out against his full length she moaned as he licked along her jaw line before catching her mouth once again. She felt like she was drowning, and willed herself away. All she had was this feeling, and she let it wash over her. Each touch sent ripples of pleasure through her body, and she nearly wept from the intensity. He stroked her body as if to memorize every curve, and explored every inch of her skin, until she was trembling and clutching him closer.
"Please…" she moaned. He paused and looked down at her hesitantly. She cracked open her eyes, and grinned. "Or I could just do it for you." She flipped their positions once again, before straddling him. Pinning his arms above his head, she flicked her tongue over his lips, smiling as he easily broke her hold on his arms, pulling her mouth roughly down to his. She backed down his legs, and he shivered as she rubbed her breasts along the hard length of him. She licked up his shaft slowly and grinned to herself at Draco's expletive. "Now, now, be nice or we won't play any longer."
He gripped her arms tightly and muttered, "Sweet heaven, if this is a game, and I win, then I'll die happy, no questions asked." He collapsed again as she resumed licking, swirling her tongue and humming around the head. Finally having enough, she straddled him once more. "What about…" she gestured first at his groin then her abdomen. He scrunched his brow in confusion. "I'm not interested in little Malfoys running around." Understanding, he whispered the charms all the boys learned as early as possible, hoping one day to use them. Nodding, his eyes locked onto hers as she lowered herself down, hissing as she stretched. Once she was adjusted, she began to move.
Willow could feel nothing outside the moment, the silk of Draco's torso between her thighs, the way his breath tickled her skin as she lowered her lips to kiss his neck, dragging her teeth across his pulse point, the way his hands gripped her hips so tightly she'd be bruised in the morning. Lost to time, she moaned and rocked faster.
Draco was sure he was dying. He'd never felt anything like this before, and he didn't want it to end. Willow leaned back, her breasts jutting forward, silhouetted in the firelight. The shadows played across her face and he wished he had the power to show her just how stunning she was, her head thrown back in ecstasy. He felt himself losing control as she fluttered around him, her teeth bared in release. He moaned out her name as he came.
At that instant, the pendants on their chests glowed with a light so intense it momentarily blinded them. Every nerve ending in their bodies was scalded as the light burned through their bodies, reaching every cell. They both screamed as their nervous systems were overwhelmed and when the luminescence faded, they collapsed, falling apart unconscious. The pendants still glowed faintly as the edges of the metal blurred slightly, bleeding into surrounding skin. The room fell to silence; the only sounds were the heavy, ragged breaths of the two lovers.
Shivering, Willow gingerly stretched her legs. The pain in her joints exploded and she scrunched her eyes shut against the ribbons of agony that traced their way across her skin. Her mind was still groggy, and she searched through the fragments of the night before in an attempt to figure out why she felt as if she’d been flayed alive. Not coming to any immediately helpful conclusions, she cracked her eyes open. Through the thin slits she could just make out the pale form of another body resting next to hers.
With a gasp of surprise mingled with pain, she sat up. Draco lay next to her, still sleeping, but covered in goose bumps and shivering slightly. She stared at him for a moment, as if to will him away in a flash of a left over dream, but finally shook her head and fished around at the foot of the bed for some sort of cover. Finding a fluffy feathery thing wadded up by the bedposts she snagged it and dragged it over her companion.
The thin dawn light shone through the windows and she noticed the door to the bathroom standing open. Gingerly, she swung her naked, she noted with interest, legs over the side of the bed and picked her way across the room, grimacing each time her foot contacted the flooring. A shower, with lots and lots of warm water. At least then I won’t be cold. And maybe it’ll help with whatever is making me feel so terrible. Pieces of the previous night’s activities tumbled back as she started up the shower, the warm steam stinging her skin as she tested the water. She remembered coming back to his room, and getting the beautiful pendant. She remembered pushing him against the floor, and wanting, no needing, the oblivion he’d promised in the hallway.
She leaned against the shower wall and let the spray sluice over her skin, washing away the chills of the night. I can’t believe I did that… what would they say about me back home? She wondered, tracing the tile pattern with a slender finger. A frission of anger raced through her. Actually, I don’t really care what they think. Everyone was so caught up in everyone else’s love life we ended up causing more harm than good. Enough is enough; why should I care what they think now. If he makes me happy… then let it be. Sighing, she turned to heat the other side of her body. Draco seemed to prefer bath products smelling of neutral things, and Willow sniffed each one before settling on something that reminded her vaguely of bergamot. As she washed, the pinpricks needling her skin lessened, and her joints began to feel a bit more human.
So, I may not have had sex with a man in like forever, but I certainly don’t remember this much agony in the aftermath… Maybe it was the wine, but I didn’t drink that much. And this SO doesn’t feel like a hangover. She shook her head, spraying water droplets in all directions. Something was there, just outside of her memory, telling her why this morning was different. Unfortunately she couldn’t grasp it, and the memory flitted away again. As she began to prune, she turned off the water and wrapped up in a huge towel that reached almost to her toes.
Stepping to the counter, she rifled through Draco’s things until she came across a brush. Gingerly, she began to brush out the tangles in her hair, idly noticing the steam evaporate off the mirror in amusing patches. One looked like Mickey Mouse; another resembled a large fish. Smiling to herself, she took a hand towel and wiped clean the part directly in front of her.
Startled, she smacked her hand on the mirror and leaned forward, before glancing down to her own breasts. What the…? Wasn’t the dragon in flight last night? As she started at the reflection, she had to admit, whatever form the dragon had been in the night before, it was certainly curled up sleeping right now. The ruby eyes were closed, and a faint smudge trailed up her skin like smoke. She reached her hand to pluck it from her chest and was startled to discover that not only was the filigree chain gone, the dragon seemed to have melded itself to her skin in an alarming fashion.
She scrubbed at it with the towel, but that only served to redden the skin around the pendant, or former pendant. Scrutinizing it closely, she could almost see its rib cage moving up and down, and the smoke curling around the delicate platinum nostrils. Eyes wide with panic, she backed away from the mirror. No, no, no, no. What is going on? In a flash, the rest of the night slammed into her. The delicious climax followed by the bright light on her chest. My chest... The goddamned Slytherin did something! Fuming she stormed out of the bathroom.
Stopping to grab the pitcher of water from the fireside, she strode to the bed and upended it on top of Draco’s head. Immediately two things happened. Draco sat up, coughing and sputtering, and Willow felt as if something slam into her mind. She could feel things she knew she shouldn’t, almost as if she was seeing things from a different angle. Suddenly woozy, she sank to the floor, pitcher still grasped in her hand.
“What… The fuck did… You do.” She gasped out, leveling very pissed off green eyes in his direction. Draco shook his head and clutched the comforter closer. He hissed in pain as he moved his legs underneath him and glared back at her.
“I did what you asked. You’ll never be alone again.” He stalked stiffly out of the bed in the bathroom where he commandeered a towel. Roughly dragging it across his hair, he donned a pair of grey sweats from the wardrobe. He pulled another pair of sweatpants and a Slytherin green zippered sweatshirt from another drawer and handed them to her before collapsing in a chair by the fireplace. Willow stood, discarded the towel in favor of the warmer clothes and followed Draco to the now lit fire.
Sitting, she tried again. “Draco, I don’t know what you thought I asked, but it wasn’t this. What is this, anyway? Last night I thought you offered me jewelry, but that’s not right, is it?” He smirked and arched an eyebrow in her direction.
“Little Firestarter, it is so much more. Anima Conligato. And believe me I couldn’t have done it without your consent and participation.” She bristled and opened her mouth to speak but he held up his hand. “You wanted companionship, and I gave it to you. Forever. Reach inside, feel where the talisman has wrapped itself around your heart. You’ll feel me there.”
Puzzled, she closed her eyes, once the disorienting feeling abated; she took a deep breath and followed the silver strands back to the dragon. With a moan, she relaxed as the feelings of desire and adoration washed over her. “See, Firestarter? That’s what I feel for you. That’s how these things work. We’re connected.” After a brief moment she opened her eyes.
“Draco, you have no idea do you.” He cocked his head in her direction. “You know nothing about me. This can’t happen. Take it off.” He shook his head.
“When I said forever, I meant it. No reversal.” He watched the growing dread well up in Willow’s eyes and he moved forward to kneel by her chair. “Willow, look at me. I know what I got myself into, I promise.”
“My God, Draco.” She backed further into the oversized easy chair, trembling. “Take. It. Off.” When he made no move to do so, she shoved him back and stumbled out of the chair. “You had me feel you, what you are? It’s beautiful. But you can’t do this to me?!? What gave you the right?!?” Suddenly she began to giggle. “Oh the irony is too much. Do you want to know why Tara left me? Before she died? Well, I played god with her memories. I went in and started messing around in her head, cause I didn’t want her to be mad at me.” He gaped at her, the confusion in his eyes evident. “And now you do the same sort of thing. Return to me, times three? Unbelievable, a permanent bond. How could you be so stupid?”
She backed away. A desperate look flitted across her face as she laid her hand across the dragon and closed her eyes. When they opened again, they were solid black. “Remove,” she commanded, and a flash of energy burst from her fingers. Draco screamed in pain clutching his own chest as Willow was thrown back, hitting the bed heavily. She stood, blood running down from her nose. The dragon was wide awake, its mouth wide open in protest, wings outstretched and fangs bared.
Close to tears in wide green eyes once more, she whispered. “It really is permanent isn’t it? Well, then I guess you should know what you’re getting into.” She closed her eyes again and felt along the lines of the bond, opening herself, letting him in. “Don’t tell me you knew you were getting into this. That you knew what I was capable of…” Without another word, she dragged Draco down, into the depths of the darkness that threatened to destroy not only her self, but the world as well. The tears ran freely now, and as Draco’s cold grey eyes met hers without a word, she turned and fled. Draco remained crouched on the floor, soaking up all the warmth the fire could provide, his head in his hands.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Willow didn’t even know where she was going. She wiped the blood from her nose onto the sleeve of the sweatshirt, not caring if it stained. Her feet carried her deeper into the castle, fleeing to whatever her psyche labeled as ‘safe’. Stumbling to a halt, she realized she was outside Snape’s chambers once again. The ladies turned to watch her impassively as she threw what could only be described as a fit. With a shriek, she began punching the walls in frustration.
“Why, why, why! Why did I come here! I do not want to be here!” She swooned a bit as a particularly strong emotion hit her through the bond. Draco seemed worked up over something, but she wasn’t adept at reading him well enough to figure out exactly what. Regaining some equilibrium she kicked over a jar of spiderwebby blossoms, watching the former flower heads bounce down the hallway. “Perfect! Stupid, stupid Slytherin, mucking up my life!”
“Referring to me, I suppose?” Willow whirled around. Snape was leaning in his doorway, loosely clad in the same emerald dressing gown, but with only pyjama bottoms underneath. His hair stuck up all over and he looked decidedly put out. Willow raised her chin and leveled a glare in his direction.
“No, I am not,” she huffed.
He arched an eyebrow. “Then why are you pounding on my walls at dawn, shrieking to bring the castle down.” Willow looked around sheepishly as the portraits stared down at her disapprovingly.
“Um.” She waved her hands around vaguely.
Rolling his eyes, he gestured her inside again. “Unless you want the entirety of Slytherin House to witness your… excitement… while wearing Slytherin House sweats that you would have no way of obtaining, I suggest you come inside.” Willow blanched and followed the outstretched hand. He stalked stiffly back into his quarters, not quite slamming the door after her. “Do you wish to explain yourself or shall I guess?” Willow looked around, as if to search for a way out. “Silly girl, the answer isn’t on my walls. Now what exactly is your problem,” he hissed as he haphazardly lit a fire in his grate and swung the tea kettle into the flames.
“This.” Fed up with his attitude, she walked purposefully toward him and began to unzip her pullover. She watched him closely, and saw the faintest flare of his pupils as his eyes darted towards her rapidly breathing chest.
“What do you think you’re doing!” He grabbed her hands and held them still. Her eyes locked onto his and she continued lowering the zipper until the dragon was completely exposed. Cocking his head to the side, Snape reached out one slender finger to trace the edge. “What…?”
She stepped back before he could touch her skin. “I don’t exactly know. I definitely didn’t plan on finding myself down here asking for your help either, what with you shunning me and all.” She turned away zipping the sweat back up and curling into the same chair she had taken a few days ago. She shook her head as Draco flared with jealousy, she believed. Groaning she rubbed her eyes as her shoulders began to ache. “I know you want nothing to do with me, and believe me, I’m not asking for your sympathy.”
Snape jumped at the last statement and came to sit across from her at the fire, elbows on his knees. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
She turned wide eyes his direction. “What gave me that impression? You ignored me at the game; you snubbed me after the game; you spent most of dinner trying to carve out my liver with your laser beam eyes. Why do you think I think that you over grown Batman reject!”
He stared at her, and after opening and closing his mouth a few times, he managed to choke out, “Batman reject? I was not ignoring you. Might it occur to you that your little revelation the other night might cause me a bit of alarm? That I might want to take a few days to digest the information you so happily dropped on my lap? That I might not mean anything too terribly grim if I didn’t out and out try to poison you or something else similarly detrimental to your well being?” He leaned back and glared at her through slitted eyes.
Sighing, Willow curled up tighter against Draco’s emotions once again. “Look, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. And I’m afraid that wasn’t the only thing I jumped into. I hate to have to ask you this, but I was wondering if you could help me. This dragon? It’s called ‘Anima Conligato’ and I want to know what that means.”
Snape was frozen. He was convinced he could actually feel his heart stopping, the blood pooling in his veins, and his nerves freezing solid. He finally gathered his wits enough to whisper, “Anima Conligato?”
She nodded, not really seeing his distress. “That’s what he said. Seemed to believe it was permanent, and I couldn’t get it off.” She finally noticed how pale her companion had become. “Um, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Not trusting his voice to speak, Snape merely rose and walked over to his bookshelf. He paused for a moment before reaching for a heavy black bound book with intricate carvings. He brought it back to his seat and spread it out on his lap. Not meeting her eyes, he flipped through it to the appropriate passage and began to read.
“Anima Conligato, Soul Bound. An ancient rite used to bind a witch and wizard together for all eternity. A form of a marriage ritual; both parties are psychically linked and it is said they can locate each other over great distances. Must be performed in a moment of intense physical and emotional connection after the appropriate exchange of intent is given. Fallen out of use in the Dark Ages, it has the potential to destroy the parties involved as the magics are ancient and implacable. It is believed that they can sense impure intent, and will annihilate anyone of less than singular determination. No successful examples are known to record.” Still not meeting her eyes, he gently closed the cover and traced the designs etched into the leather. “So we are not to be.”
The wistful tone brought tears to her eyes, even as Willow felt the anger building in her again. “The sneaky sonofabitch. He knew! He even got down on one knee… Why?” she pleaded to no one in particular.
Softly, Snape answered, “Because he knew he was playing for keeps. And if he didn’t win early, he may not get you at all.” He finally raised his eyes, and Willow was taken aback at the emotion in the usually guarded black eyes. “It was Draco, I presume. He’s one of the few students that had a snowball’s chance in hell to pull this off, and probably the only one with a large enough library of Dark Magics to even know where to look.” Willow nodded and tried to steel her heart against the flare of pain in the Potions Master’s eyes. He nodded. “Well, he’s right. It is permanent. There is no magic to remove this; what is done will remain. And you must remember that he has unrestricted access to you as you do to him. I’m sure it is quite a bit to get used to.”
He stood heavily, leaning on the back of the chair. The reshelving of the book took longer than it should have and by the time it was done, Willow had risen. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He took a few steps closer until they were standing chest to chest. “It’s a bit late for that, Willow. But perhaps it was for the best.” He closed his eyes briefly. “If I may…” He lowered his head towards hers, and shocked, she could only remain still as he brushed softly against her lips with his own. He stepped back, his eyes still closed as he gripped the back of the chair. For the second time that morning, Willow gathered her wits about her and fled.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Draco toweled himself off after climbing out of the shower. It had taken him the better part of an hour to negotiate his way from the fireside to the bedroom as his muscles had revolted and refused to move. He hummed to himself as he dressed, munching on a leftover cake from the night before. He only had a vague impression of Willow’s activities at the moment, but given the flare of rage, primarily directed at him, he could only guess she’d found out more than he’d told her. Despite being a Slytherin through and through, he had never meant to hurt her, and honestly believed he’d given her what she needed most. He pulled his hair back into its leather tie and set off in search of his Firestarter.
The castle was quiet as most of its occupants were sleeping in. He could feel a sort of pointer, like a change in pressure in his inner ear, and followed where it led until he reached the front hall. Willow was standing in front of the big house clock, not moving a muscle. As he reached her side, she turned to look at him, and he was startled to see blood running from her nose once again.
“Firestarter?” She made no sound, and merely looked at him without seeing him. He felt for her, and despite her outward calm, she was panicking. He reached out a tentative hand and stroked her forearm, wincing as he saw the crimson marring the sleeve. “Willow, perhaps we should get you out of here…” She made no sign to the contrary, so he took her elbow and steered her towards her rooms. When they reached the painting to her room, he had to prod her to say the password, and once they were inside, he put her on the bed, tucking her bare feet, freezing from running over stone floors with no cover, under the duvet.
He sat down beside her and caressed her face with trembling fingers. “Willow?” Tears began to leak out of her eyes and she turned to face him.
“Why Draco? Why me? How could you want me?” She wiped the tears from her eyes with the same stained sleeve.
He raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “Um, who wouldn’t want you! You’re stunning, beautiful, powerful- but we’ve been over this before. What are you really asking?”
She rolled her eyes and adjusted the covers. “How could you want someone that can do what I tried to do… God, Draco, I think I’m broken…” she trailed off, sniffling.
He broke out into a huge smile. “You’re talking to someone who as known since he as old enough to talk that he would probably some day be bound into servitude to a demented Wizard bent on taking over the world, by any means necessary, and you think I’m going to be put off by you having a bad day? Everyone has bad days; everyone isn’t usually powerful enough to do anything about it.” He grimaced. “Though, hopefully, one day you’ll tell me all about what happened, not just what you think you’re capable of.”
She smiled a bit tentatively before knitting her brows in concern. “About that demented Wizard… what are you going to do?”
He thought for a moment before answering. “Nothing. I made my decision before I ever met you, or knew you existed. I refuse to come in second to Herr Lucius for the rest of my life. And I don’t care to take up any dark marks to prove my loyalty. One permanent bond is enough for me, thank you very much.” His eyes twinkled, but he was deadly serious.
“So, you knew you weren’t going to serve him… Then why marry me?”
Draco blanched and choked on his own swallow. “Marry, excuse me? What did you say?”
Willow tilted her head. “We’re married. That’s what the ritual did. I thought you knew that…” She began to panic again at the look of confusion in his eyes.
“Um.”
“What do you mean, um? Didn’t you find out what you were doing?” Her voice raised several octaves and she sat bolt upright in bed.
“Well, there were some bits I couldn’t translate…” he mused. “But I just sort of glossed over that part.”
“Please tell me you knew that the ritual could kill us right? You did find out that much?!?” She could see hysteria looming in her near future if he didn’t get his act together, and she willed herself to calm down.
He stared at her with huge silver eyes and whispered, “Where did you find that out?”
“Snape. He was very helpful, after he got over nearly having a heart attack. Seems you married us; isn’t that neat. And I’m bloody glad you got it right, cause if you messed anything up, the magics would have blown us to bits in that light show. Turns out that there’s some amount of cognizance in the whatever it was you used to bind us, and if they didn’t approve, we’d be dead. Dust. As in No More.”
Momentarily shocked, he stared at her wildly. After a moment, Draco couldn’t help it; his lips twisted up into an ironic smile before he started to laugh. “Well, I must say I’m rather pleased with myself. Be careful what you wish for I suppose. Firestarter, listen to me. It may not be exactly what I wanted to happen, but I am beyond happy. I wholeheartedly believe in us.”
She looked into his heart and saw just how sure he was. Amazed, she took his hand in her own. “Draco, we’re so young. You’re still in high school, or whatever they call it here. I’m only 20…” She shook her head after the reality of her last few years sunk in. “Actually, it’s not that strange. The world we live in, we could be dead tomorrow, pissing off ancient spirits or not. Maybe Faith’s little ‘Want, take, have’ isn’t such a bad way to go. We don’t know each other, but it seems we don’t have a choice. We’re stuck with each other. At least it will be an interesting ride.”
He climbed up onto the bed with her, and she laid her head on his chest, feeling for the opal willow tree. They sat in silence for a few heartbeats before Draco spoke. “Well, I always imagined losing my virginity would be a big deal, but this has been a bit more than I bargained for.” Willow tilted her head up to stare incredulously at him and he grinned. “Nothing like starting off with a bang."
Chapter 18She wasn’t sure how long they lay there. Willow gradually let the panic and desperation seep out of her body, becoming totally relaxed. She felt safe there, lying in Draco’s embrace, in a way that she never had before, and definitely didn’t expect. After that morning, she didn’t think he’d really want her back, nor be so happy about the turn of affairs. She tried to recall everything she’d read about him, and none of this made any sense. He was supposed to be spoiled, self centered, and cruel. Perhaps he still was, but she didn’t see it, or at least he wasn’t to her. Well, self centered, maybe, since that was what got them in this mess to begin with.
This mess. Never in any stretch of the imagination had she expected to find her self in this predicament. Not so long ago, she’d been reassuring Anya that she had no more interest in men, and here she was with two men kissing her in less than a day. It was… unnerving. Especially the second man; and what she labeled ‘the Kiss of Doom’ in her head.
‘The Kiss’ had sent her flying from Snape’s quarters in shock. The pain radiating from his whole being was nearly crippling and she couldn’t help wondering what could have been if Draco hadn’t preempted the rest of her life. She’d known that there was something between them, but Snape was so complicated and introspective that she never would have been able to decipher him without help. And the worst part was she liked ‘the Kiss’. It didn’t have the all consuming passion and fire that being with Draco had, but kissing Snape had tasted of dark things, heartbreak and pain- and she could relate. They spoke the same language of betrayal and darkness.
She shifted a bit tracing her fingers along the branches of the tree before unfastening the buttons on Draco’s shirt to get a closer look at it. All of her mental ramblings had been very quiet, since she wasn’t sure how much Draco knew of her trip to Snape’s dungeon, but she didn’t want to get into it right now. Convincing her mind to be calm and rational about the whole affair was taxing, and she was thankful that they were still new to the whole reading each other bit. He may misinterpret some of her flashes of feeling as something else. Remembering the way Snape’s lips had felt on hers, the softness and hesitancy, she could see flashes of burgundy flicker through the opals that made up the leaves. She tried thinking of other things, concentrating on being here in Draco’s arms caused the leaves to shine deep blue, remembering her conversation with Dumbledore earlier in the week caused slashes of gold and ebony. Fascinated she poked at the tree with a fingernail.
“Ow! Watch it, Firestarter, that’s attached now.” She withdrew her finger, and he caught it, nipping at it with his front teeth.
“Sorry, Draco, I’m just curious. It changes colors when I think different things. A mood tree! You know, like those silly rings that show you your mood depending on your body temperature. Remember?”
He gave her a funny look and shook his head. “Um, no. But that’s alright. Actually, that’s one reason I chose the opals in the tree for myself. Your dragon should react to what I’m doing by actually moving around and… emoting I guess. Tree’s aren’t known for that sort of thing, so I picked opals as another way to let me know how you are doing.”
“At least you thoroughly thought about something to do with your little experiment,” she grumbled.
“Hey! I thought about it. A lot, if you want to know. Just… not about the important things, I suppose. Mother said Father needed a refresher in Latin. Guess he’s not the only one,” he mused. He gently ran his hand over Willow’s hair, halting as she stilled.
“What about your parents, Draco. What are they going to do? Your father watched what I did in Hogsmeade you said, and I can’t imagine he’d be happy that his son is now permanently attached to the very witch that put a crimp in his plans…” she trailed off as a particularly strong wave of terror rolled off her lover. “Tell me you thought about this first. Please, just tell me you thought about what you’ll tell your Father that won’t result in any permanent harm?”
Draco made a strangled attempt at some sort of response but nothing coherent came out of his mouth. They sat there in silence for a few moments, the thin ribbons of panic flowing back and forth between them. Finally getting his act together, Draco muttered hoarsely, “You know what they say about bridges right? Maybe we can get away with burning this one before we have to cross it…”
Willow took a deep breath. She’d faced many monsters worse than potential in-laws, and this was just another hurdle to get over. No point in panicking, it wasn’t an apocalypse, and she was an old pro at those. Then again, she’d never really interacted with either Oz’s parents, because they weren’t interested, or Tara’s, since the surviving members were verging on psychotic.
“Okay, maybe we could try for avoidance for a while. Who knows about us? The Gryffindor four, but maybe they’ll keep their mouths shut, since they seemed so upset. Or I can try to talk to them. The only other person who knows is Snape, and he knows the whole story, since I asked him what Anima Conligato meant. He won’t say anything, I know for sure. Dumbledore and Minerva both suspect something, but I can’t imagine either of them voluntarily talking to your father…” She twined her fingers with his. They were calloused in few places from Quidditch, but otherwise were smooth and neatly trimmed. “It’s not just your parents either. How much do your friends suspect?”
He pondered for a moment before answering. “Nothing really, but I need to do something about them. They may suspect I’m not behind the ritual this summer if I don’t reassure them I’m pro-you-know-who. I’m not sure how to handle them about this though…”
“We’ll figure it out. It’s what we do… figure things out, save the day.” With that cryptic remark, she squirmed closer and nudged under his chin.
Draco was having an easier time adjusting to having someone in his thoughts and emotions. After all, that was what he was after in the first place. He’d already heard Willow in his mind that day in the greenhouse, so feeling her there wasn’t too much of a stretch. Regardless, he was amazed at how much better he could feel just by listening to her and feeling the confidence she pushed in his direction. He relaxed, breathing in the soft fragrance of her hair.
Despite the problems this would create in his life, he was still feeling pretty good about himself. And this exchange was leaps and bounds better than this morning. He’d nearly lost it when she’d flipped out earlier. Black eyes were something Goyle inflicted on people who stepped out of line, they weren’t what happened to your lover’s eyes when she went all… whatever she did. He was used to dark magic, but what he felt from her was something that blew away all of the petty spells his father or mother used. Willow was connected to so much more than he could possibly have imagined, both dark and light. When she’d shoved him back into her memories, all he’d been able to discern was a terrible grief, dark vengeance, and her desire to end it all- all as in the world. And from the guilt riding along with the memories, he’d surmised that she’d nearly succeeded. It was enough to shake his belief in the foundations of his little world. When he’d decided to leave the so-called Dark Lord behind, he hadn’t expected to hook up with someone who put Voldemort to shame, or so Draco thought. Willow would bear careful watching, both internally and externally, no matter how much he loved her.
Love, what a foreign emotion. It wasn’t really encouraged at home, despite knowing that Narcissa loved him as fiercely as any mother would even with her lack of open affection. Lucius certainly felt nothing more for his family than the desire to have the Malfoy name continue without shaming itself. In the Slytherin common room, the concept was laughed at by most students. Love could only cripple you in the race for the finish, and most Slytherins were too interested in the bottom line. He sighed and tilted his head down to kiss Willow’s lips gently, then with more force.
She moaned lightly and leaned into him. Fascinated, she concentrated on the flash of heat that burned its way through her body. He traced his hands lightly under her sweatshirt, circled her waist and pulled her up to straddle his hips. Willow’s hair fell about their faces like an auburn curtain and she ran her hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders as the kiss deepened. They parted for a breath, and Willow looked up at him through lowered lashes.
“So, Coyote, wanna play?” His response was to grind her hips more firmly down on his own, tracing his tongue along her neck before biting lightly on her earlobe. “Alright then, what do you think of this?” Without moving a muscle, Willow willed their clothes to a high backed chair on the other side of the room. He gasped at the chill on his suddenly naked skin before breaking out into a feral smile.
“Oh, I think quite a bit of that, Firestarter. What do you think of this?” In one swift movement, he flipped their position so she was lying beneath him. He pulled her arms high above her head, stretching her out as much as she could go. She groaned and tilted up her hips, turning her head to bare her throat. Draco distantly noted the twin puncture marks marring the alabaster skin as he bent to lick her pulse point, still pinning her arms down. He moved further down, dipping his mouth to suck first one nipple, then the other. His mouth twisted up into a grin as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He had no doubt she would easily break his hold if she wished, but for the moment, she remained content to allow him his entertainment. She trailed one foot up the back of his calf, urging him closer, but he held back. “Not yet. Let me have my fun?” She nodded, but kept her eyes shut. Her hair fanned out around her head and shoulders and he ran one hand down her arm to wrap his fingers tightly in the silken mass. “My Firestarter. Mine, always and forever.” With a growl and bared teeth, he rubbed his whole body against hers, delighting in her whimpers.
Draco knew he was new at this game, so he took the time to explore every available inch of Willow with teeth and tongue, both listening, watching, and feeling for what she liked, what made her moan, what made her gasp, what made her shiver. The positive feedback loop between them only enhanced the arousal they felt, and when Draco finally moved to bury himself inside her, they both nearly passed out in ecstasy. He moved slowly, making sure to rub Willow much as she had done the night before, and was rewarded in an incoherent babble from the redhead beneath him as she ran her now released hands down his back, leaving bright red marks where her nails nearly drew blood. Mere seconds later, she was trembling around him, hissing his name, and he followed her not long after. Drained, they lay without moving for a few moments before Draco rolled to one side. Willow blinked once or twice and dragged a hand across her brow.
“Sweet merciful Zeus. If I’d know that this Anima thing would do that, I’d have signed up for one a long time ago. That was… eurgh.” He mumbled something and she shivered. “I’m all for a cuddle, love, but I’m freezing. Join me in the shower?” He nodded fuzzily and once she had the shower steaming, fumbled his way out of the bed. She was standing beneath the spray, letting it sluice its way down her body, clinging to her curves, shining as the light flickered through it. Draco was tempted to push her against the wall of the shower and have his wicked way with her until he noticed her faint flinch as she moved and he raised his eyebrows in question.
“Been a while. Parts are… adjusting.” He nodded and turned her around to wash her hair with gentle fingers. “Mmm, that feels wonderful. I didn’t know you’d turn out to be so sweet, you certainly weren’t presented that way…”
Part of him knew that this was a strange comment to make, and that his lady love made many such strange comments. Perhaps he should pay attention, he thought, but decided that her skin was much more interesting. They lounged about in the shower for a while but eventually Willow’s stomach growled. They ruefully left the shower and dried off. Draco found Willow’s collection of cosmetics fascinating, and happily occupied himself poking through the various jars and bottles. He jumped a bit as he felt her begin to comb his hair, but relaxed and bent down so she could reach better.
“Thanks… So what now?”
“Erm, dinner? What time is in anyway?”
She glanced at the clock in the next room. “Four thirty. How long were we lying there then? It was dawn when I left this morning…” She shook her head. “Time is very strange here. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. But that’s not what I meant. What now about us. How do we act? It wouldn’t be that odd for us to be seen together, since we were before. Speaking of, do you think any of the other Slytherins have mentioned anything to your family?”
“No, but my mother knows I was interested in you. I had her try to track down your family.” Willow froze mid-stroke. “I guess she approves. Seems that no family is better than the wrong sort, and you don’t exist. Good enough for her.” Willow forced herself to keep brushing, and to keep her emotions steady.
“The importance of being Willow much? You checked up on me?”
“Yes, I wanted to figure out who you were, or more precisely why you are here. It’s laughable that you’re here to learn how our students are taught. I was curious.” He paused. “Actually, I never did find out why you’re here.”
She laughed a bit nervously. “Well, I am here to study how your education system works, more or less, but I’m also a sort of… consultant…” He could feel the flares of panic and not wanting to provoke another attempt to rip the talismans off their flesh like she had that morning, he let it go. If there was one thing that Slytherins excelled at it was self preservation. And Draco was an excellent Slytherin.
“I guess we proceed as we always have. We both have our own rooms, so that helps. And I should introduce you to the other Slyths soon enough. I told them to treat you with respect, and they seem to be minding.”
“Oh, that’s why! I thought as much.” She finished with his hair, and was tying it up in the leather thong again. “I suppose you’ll arrange for something, perhaps the next Hogsmeade weekend?”
He flinched, remembering his deal with Goyle. “I owe them all a butterbeer or three anyway, so that would be a good time.” They drifted back into the other room, and discarding towels, redressed themselves. “Willow, how’d you do that with the clothes earlier? I’ve never seen that before…”
She waved her hand in a bit of self depredation. “I guess I do magic a bit differently. No wand. But don’t say anything; the teachers seem to think it would upset the students.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That it would. It’s a mark of a very powerful witch or wizard, and usually a dark one. Let’s just say I’m impressed.” He threw himself in the easy chair by the fire.
Willow’s face was scrunched in dismay, but she felt no derision or duplicity from Draco. He was impressed and she wondered about her friends back home, and their reactions. They were all for magic when it helped them out, but when it came to casual use it was all ‘Addiction! Addiction!’ She shook her head and came to sit on the arm of his chair. “So, what do you think’s for dinner then?”
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Not too much later, they made their way to the Great Hall. The passageways by Willow’s rooms weren’t used by many besides the teachers, and they passed no one. Suddenly, Willow stopped and grabbed onto Draco’s arm.
“I feel… funny… like…” She looked up at him with wide eyes, and he gripped her shoulders in concern. She wobbled a bit and he gasped in panic as she began to emit a strange blue light that flickered around the edges of her profile like fire.
“Willow, what…?”
She whimpered, “Draco, it… hurts… Make it stop!” With that last statement, her body went rigid and he was thrown back against the wall. Willow screamed as the light burst into a thousand glittering fireworks and she vanished. Draco could only stare at the space she used to occupy. He could feel a faint echo of where she used to be, like a memory, and it was full of pain and confusion. He cast around him for his wand, but once he found it, he could only hold it trembling in front of himself.
Suddenly galvanized into action, he jumped to his feet and raced to the Great Hall. The students were just arriving, but when he glanced at the head table, it was mostly empty. Not stopping to think about the rationality of his plan, he took of towards the dungeons as fast as he could. His breathing was ragged and a painful stitch stabbed his side, but he reached Snape’s classroom in record time. He threw open the door and spied the man in question hunched over his desk slashing students’ essays with a gleeful look in his eye. As he saw Draco in the door way, he sneered.
“What do you want?”
“She’s gone.” Draco trembled as he slumped into the nearest desk, clutching his chest.
“Saw the light and left you? Didn’t think she had it in her.” He stood and stalked closer to the boy. Puzzled, he finally noticed the fear and panic rolling off him in waves. “What do you mean, gone?”
Draco looked up, terror threatening the silver eyes, and whispered, “We were walking to dinner, there were lights, she was in so much pain, and now she’s gone… Can you help her?”
Snape fell to the seat across from Draco and leveled a penetrating gaze in his direction. He closed his eyes and drew his hand across his face. “I’ll see what I can do. Start from the beginning…”
They stared across the desk, platinum eyes meeting ebony. Severus Snape was having a bad day. He didn’t appreciate having his rare sleep interrupted, particularly by a demented fire sprite informing him that she’d just bound herself to the spawn of Snape’s second least favorite person on the planet. The same woman that haunted his dreams in a most painful fashion, offering delights that he’d never get to experience for his own thanks to her complete inability to ask questions before accepting trinkets. Then to have said spawn appear in his classroom saying the very lady in question got herself sucked out of Hogwarts in a rain of painful blue fire, needless to say, the day wasn’t getting any better.
“Draco, how much do you know of Willow’s origin?”
The young man shrugged his shoulders, worrying at his fingernails. “Not much, only that’s she’s from Sunnydale, California, but when I had Mother try to find her family, nothing came up.”
Snape steepled his hands together and took a deep breath. He could feel a migraine building, and dreaded the conversation that he was sure he couldn’t avoid. He looked down at the table top, flicked at a bit of crusted on proto-potion and slowly said, “She is from Sunnydale. She is not, however, from our reality.”
For Draco, it seemed as if time stopped. He was frozen in that moment where his best laid plans took a sharp right turn into the completely unfathomable. “Another reality,” he said faintly.
Snape nodded, taking a perverse pleasure in twisting Draco’s fears. “Actually, we aren’t sure how she got here. She appeared one day, before school started, and Dumbledore took her in. As to how this relates to her current problem, I’m not sure. She could have been called home, but she didn’t say that her original translocation to our world was particularly painful. So, my guess is she didn’t arrive in the same manner as she was… taken. Perhaps you a saw a portal which somehow drew Willow through it.” He tilted his head and flicked his gaze to the cauldron quietly bubbling on the side bench by the front of the room. He’d been working on it when Willow had dropped her revelation about the fox, and he’d continued while hoping he’d never need it.
“Professor Snape, she’s scared. I can barely feel her, but she’s not happy. Whatever caused the pain is gone, but she feels, I don’t know, miserable. We can’t leave her there.”
“Perhaps not.” He looked down his nose at the silver haired student and narrowed his eyes. “You really care for her, don’t you?”
Draco looked sharply at the Potions Master. “I love her.” They studied each other for the space of a breath, then Draco’s eyes widened. “Merlin’s Beard. So do you... I knew there was something this morning…” They remained sitting there, neither saying a word, merely staring each other down. Snape broke first, lowering his eyes.
Draco wasn’t sure what drove him to seek answers to the Head of Slytherin House in the first place other than Willow seemed to place great faith in him. Despite Snape’s attempts at favoritism to keep his father happy, Draco had always sensed a veiled disgust in all the lavish complements and get out of jail free cards. Raising his eyes once again, he was surprised to see a flicker of jealousy in the older man’s eyes, followed quickly with a flash of compassion.
Shaking his head slowly, Snape asked, “And what would your father say if he saw you now…”
“He’d say I was dealing with a pathetic excuse for a Dark Wizard who betrayed the cause, would be better off dead, and would I mind terribly obliging him.”
Snape quirked an eyebrow. “Touché.”
Smiling wryly, Draco continued, “And if this conversation was taking place after graduation, he’d be saying the same thing about me.” And then it was out, the glittering truth. Sharing his intentions with Willow was oddly like speaking to himself, it was familiar and safe. Admitting his plans to Snape, however uncomfortable the circumstances, made it real. Words said out loud could never be taken back and now their path was etched in stone. Draco let out a huge sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, the faint light shining on the silver strands.
“How interesting.” Snape regarded the pale form in front of him with overwhelming relief while outwardly betraying no emotion. At least now Willow isn’t bound to someone bent on serving Voldemort, he thought. Thank the stars for small mercies. “That doesn’t mean that if you hurt her I won’t still track you down to the ends of the earth and make you wish your father hadn’t finished you off.”
For the first time in his young life, Draco found himself regarded by a rival as an equal. Never before had he really encountered someone who thought so little of the Malfoy name and power, and challenged Draco on his own terms. It was sort of refreshing in a raising-the-territorial-hackles sort of way. “Believe me that would never be my intention. Besides, I think the lady can take care of her self.” The unspoken reminder of the night of the dance caused Snape to flinch.
“No, I don’t suppose she needs either of us to protect her.” And just like that, an accommodation was reached. The status quo, such as it was, would stay unless Willow herself altered the balance. Snape turned once again to the work bench and gestured vaguely with long, thin fingers. “I believe I may have a way to go after her. I’ve been researching a way to send her home, in case she became dangerous. Some of the most deadly things come in beautiful packages, and Willow is no exception. The potion to weaken dimensional boundaries is nearly complete, but I hadn’t planned on ever trying it out, as it requires a form of a temporary Portkey to anchor the traveler. We had no such implement from her home dimension so the potion was useless. However…” he trailed off, eyeing Draco with a sardonic sneer on his face. “However, now that you have bestowed upon her the gift of Anima Conligato, we have just that connection.”
Draco felt the bands of panic begin to loosen from his chest, and his breathing became easier. “She said she talked to you about it.”
“She did. It was… quite a shock. At least you aren’t dead.” He spoke with sincerity, though his tone did convey the unspoken belief that he wished Draco had done the world a favor and blown him self to smithereens before entangling Willow. “And as much as I hate to admit it, I think that maybe we are supposed to work together, Coyote.”
Draco froze in a manner reminiscent to Snape’s shock merely days before. “What did you say?”
Snape grinned, not pleasantly, and leaned forward. “You are the coyote, and I am the fox. Surely she told you of her dream…” His head spinning, Draco could only shake his head. “No? What a shame. Seems she’s been having a bit of a premonition about the three of us. You are the silver coyote and I am the black fox mentioned in that ridiculous Native American myth.” He settled back to watch the confusion and frustration play across Draco’s features.
“She told you about my animagus form?” He wasn’t sure whether to be furious or relieved.
“No, not as such. Merely that we were in her dream, you as a coyote and I as a fox. I inferred from there. And we killed the fawn… You know of the fawn?” Draco shook his head again, for once the silver tongued Malfoy was without words. “I took a… trip through some of Willow’s memories the night you found me slumped on the floor. Willow sacrificed the fawn to obtain the Blood of the Mother for a ritual to bring her friend back from the dead.” If possible, Draco’s eyes became even wider. “It was also the beginning of the end for her, but that is a story she will have to tell you.”
Since he was child, his parents had drummed the concept of poise and presence into their offspring. Granted it took a few years to sink in, but he’d been doing well recently, maintaining his equanimity in the face of stress or aggravation, serving his revenge cold and the like. Right now that precious poise was about to break into a thousand brittle pieces on the sharp edge of jealousy. The smirk playing at the edges of Snape’s lips convinced Draco that his game was well played, perhaps even superior to his own, with the dark man pressing every advantage. Gathering the frayed ends of his will, Draco spoke slowly and with great weight. “What do I do to get her back?”
Snape inclined his head at the tasteful retreat. “For now, nothing. I have to finish a few things here. Go to dinner, and act as if nothing is wrong. After that, return here. It is time for us to have an adventure. Think you can manage that?”
Scoffing, Draco stood. “I am more than capable.” With a brisk nod at the black clad figure already vigorously slicing something on the work bench, he swept out of the classroom. The trip back to the Great Hall seemed to take forever and the time he spent in Snape’s classroom felt like it stretched into hours.
Glancing at a wall clock revealed that only twenty minutes had passed since he’d first sprinted through the halls. Draco breathed a small sigh of relief, thankful that he hadn’t missed most of the meal. Nothing like trying to remain inconspicuous while tromping in late to a large group activity. Reminding himself that there was nothing else to be done, he pushed open the doors to the hall and strode to the head table, nodding at few Slytherins along the way. As he passed the Gryffindor seats, he turned and met Harry’s eyes boring into his own. There was only time for a brief flicker of acknowledgement before Draco found his own seat next to Hermione and sat down, reaching for the rolls. He tried to keep his eyes unfocused, refusing to meet anyone else’s curious glances, but when Hermione snagged his elbow under the table he jerked upright. “What?” he hissed.
“Calm down. I just wanted to say we aren’t going to say anything to anyone.” When Draco visibly relaxed, she continued. “It isn’t any of our business who Willow sees, and as much as I personally think you’re a piece of shit, if you make her happy, then that’s enough.” His mouth twitched at her injunction, and he nodded his thanks. “But if you hurt her, I’ll hex you into next week, no questions asked.” He grinned outright at that.
“You know, Granger, somehow I don’t think you’d be the only one. You may have to take numbers, as a matter of fact. But don’t worry; Willow can take care of herself.” He passed her a bowl of vegetables. “Carrots? They look lovely tonight.” Sending him a look that conveyed her belief that Mortal Enemy Number One had been replaced with a pod person, she took the bowl, ladled a few scoops onto her plate and shook her head. It really had been a strange few weeks, but at least no one was trying to kill them, so in the grand scheme of things, life was looking up. She grinned to herself, and noting Ron’s concerned glance, she sent him a wink before passing Draco the bowl of potatoes.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The cauldron was roiling with faintly shimmering bubbles the consistency of crude oil. The smell was atrocious and it was almost impossible to believe that it contained mostly flowers and herbs rather than rotting corpses of road kill. Shape shuddered as he added final pinch of wyvern tooth and stepped back to let the potion burp and fizzle with crimson sparks. He readied a few bottles and very carefully poured a measured amount into each. He nearly spilled the whole concoction as he heard the door slam behind him. Cursing to himself, he wiped up the mess before turning to meet the newcomer. His eyebrows went up in surprise as he saw the headmaster regarding him with a very serious expression on his weathered face.
“So, Severus. It has happened then? Miss Rosenberg has left us?” At Snape’s reluctant nod, he sighed and tucked his hands in his sleeves. “And I am to understand it was not voluntary.”
“Is there nothing that escapes your attention?!” Snape snarled and stalked over to his desk where he added the newly filled vials to other assorted objects.
“Some things, I’m sure, but not this. Severus, you cannot go. The school cannot lose you, nor can the coming fight. Draco will have to travel alone, won’t you Mister Malfoy.” He turned and arched an eyebrow at a sheepish Draco standing in the doorway.
“He is not going anywhere by himself.” The two Slytherins glared at each other.
“I’m sorry, Severus, but my decision is final. If we are to retrieve Miss Rosenberg, we must trust Draco to accomplish the task alone. And he may yet learn something about himself in the process.” With that final statement, Dumbledore turned his twinkling eyes back to Draco once more. “I wish you luck, but follow Professor Snape’s directions to the letter. We don’t need to lose two of our people today.” With a final nod, he left the pair to their plans.
The potions professor’s hands clenched on the handles to his carry bag before he exhaled and turned around. “Well. It seems you’ve won the faith of our dear Headmaster, Circe only knows how. We have a few things to settle before we head out. Come with me.” He grabbed the bag and swept out of the classroom, Draco following behind. They wound through the corridors before stopping outside of Willow’s rooms. “Do you know the password?” Draco looked at him in disbelief.
“What are you looking for here?”
“Do you know the password or not?” his voice was rough with frustration, and he viciously swept his hair back behind his ears.
Rolling his eyes, Draco muttered the password under his breath. They entered the room where Draco picked up a stray hair ribbon and ran it through is fingers. Snape poked around Willow’s wardrobe before snagging her knapsack and dumping the contents out on her bed. “What is it?” Draco noted when Snape uttered an exclamation of delight.
“Her wallet. You can return its contents to her as well as seeing if the currency she carries is similar at all to our own. If it is, then we can withdraw what we need from Gringotts and not worry about transfiguring some. Here, take this.” He leaned against the bed and regarded Draco carefully. “We have no idea what you will face when you go after her, or even if she’s in the dimension she originally came from. If she is, then it makes our task easier, as it is fairly similar to our own. If not?” He shrugged. “Be ingenious; you’re a Slytherin, it’s what you do best. I also don’t know how long you’ll have to be gone, so we should stop by your quarters to get anything you’ll need. After that, we are going to leave Hogwarts. You can get what you want from your vault at the Hogsmeade branch of Gringotts as well as any other supplies. From there… I guess we’ll see whether my little experiment works.”
“Or I end up in bits across the country side, is that right?” he couldn’t keep the frustration from his voice, though he was brimming with excitement. Snape favored him with a wry smile. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”
They left Willow’s quarters much as they were found, and headed through the castle once more to the Head Boy and Girl’s rooms. They caught a flicker of movement as the door to Hermione’s room closed, and exchanging a look, hurried inside. Draco wasted no time, gathering a few things of importance in a small carryall before reducing it to fit in his pocket. He grinned a feral grin, all teeth, and motioned the raven haired man in front of him. “Shall we?”
The night air was brisk and the stars sparkled down, for once devoid of their usual blanket of grey clouds. They left the castle through one of the lesser used side doors in the dungeon and Snape carefully locked it behind him. Once they were in open air, they turned to regard each other warily before Draco burst into laughter.
“A fox, huh? Never thought you were the foxy type.” With that, he shimmered into the sleek silver coyote and took off running to the town. Snape snarled in frustration before following suit and the inky black of his hide disappeared into the shadows as he sprinted across the lawn in pursuit.
There is no finer thing than a midnight run, swift and silent, the gentle breeze brining the most fascinating scents to tender noses. The two canines ran nearly side by side, soft padded feet making almost no sound on the worn path. All too soon the edge of Hogsmeade glimmered with faint lights and the fox stopped. Snape curled up under a low bench, completely invisible in the dark of night except for the faint gleam of light on his eyes. The coyote nodded once and trotted down the path. At the first cluster of buildings, Draco returned to human form and clutched his cloak tightly around his lean frame.
Many businesses in the magical town kept regular hours, but Gringotts was one that was open at all times. Goblins are always happy to have your business. Draco mounted the steps and pushed open the doors with all the Malfoy haughtiness he could summon. One of the attendant goblins snapped to attention.
“Could we help you, sir? You have your key?” Draco wordlessly produced his key and the goblin beckoned him to the wildly rickety carts that ran throughout the bowels of the bank. In reality, the carts and tracks themselves were a form of portals, and any customer could access their main vault from any Gringotts branch anywhere in the world. As the cart careened down the poorly lit tunnels, Draco had time to face the reality of the evening for the first time.
Even the best laid plans can fail. I refuse to consider this a failure until there is no possibility of getting what’s mine back again. She will not be lost to me. He frowned and peered into the darkness. So she wasn’t completely honest, but who is? She’d certainly make a good Slytherin, he noted with amusement. His reverie was cut short as they halted in front of his family vault. The Malfoy crest was large, taking up most of the door, and made up of intertwining snakes in a complicated knot of shining scales. He smiled wryly as one of the snakes seemed to wink at him before he inserted the key and turned. The intricate lock ground open slowly, snakes slithering to and fro, and he stepped into the glittering gloom. Piles of Malfoy wealth lay stacked in massive heaps, and Draco selected a handful of coins before hesitating over a small casket. He reached out and withdrew his hand out twice before finally grasping a small black box and slipping it into an inside pocket of his cloak. One final examination of the vault and he was back in the cart, speeding back toward the entrance once again.
In the lobby, Draco pulled the Willow’s wallet from his pocket and cracked it open. A few bills were neatly tucked inside and he unfolded them before handing them to the goblin. “I’d like two thirds of this amount converted into this currency.” He glared at the goblin as the creature emitted a huff of disappointment. Moving to put the wallet away, his eyes caught on a pair of photographs that peeked out from behind the stack of random business cards. Both were muggle photos; one was of a young blonde woman, a thin dark haired girl with enormous blue eyes, a shy looking honey haired, curvy young woman, a blondish waif of a woman with a wicked smile, and dark haired man, laughing and yelling something at the camera. The other was of an older man wearing glasses and looking annoyed. Curious, he flipped them over, Buffy, Dawn, Tara, Anya, and Xander adorned one, Giles at the Magic Box the other.
The goblin was muttering to itself, “English. Muggle. What a waste.” He clambered up behind the huge desk and dragged a musty ledger book out of the lower shelf. He tabulated the columns quickly and handed Draco a large stack of bills that meant nothing to the young wizard. He flicked his eyes through them negligently before folding them and tucking them safely in the cloak pocket that held Willow’s wallet. The photos intrigued him, if for no other reason that they were non-magical. The name Tara startled him; he couldn’t help but look a bit longer at her face. She seemed so sweet and pure, at least in this photo, and he tried to reconcile his Willow to one that loved this woman so fiercely. Shaking his head, he nodded his thanks to the goblins and took his receipt before the doors swung shut silently behind him.
Out in the safety of the night once more, Draco slunk through the shadows, avoiding any late passersby by drawing the hood up over his tell-tale hair. He wove quickly through the town until he was back at the stone bench. Wordlessly, he was a coyote again, and slunk off behind the fox as they headed to the moors. The gorse and heather tickled their noses and small burrs stuck to their fur, but they paid no mind. Once they were a safe distance from the town, Snape lost fox form and stood, drawing the reduced bag from his pocket. He restored it, and motioned for Draco to come near.
“To activate this, just drink it and follow your link. I’m not sure what will happen, but if it works, you’ll be pulled to the other end, like a particularly painful Portkey. To return, you do the same, with both you and Willow holding onto this return key. It’s not activated yet though it is tuned to Hogwarts; you have to say this charm,” he handed Draco a piece of parchment, “and grab hold. Drink up and you should return. I’ve heard that time works differently in different dimensions, if what the books say is true, so you have no way of knowing how long it has been since she’s seen you. It could be minutes; it could be days or even years. The same goes for when you return. And remember, once you drink this, there is nothing I can do to help.” Snape tilted his head and his eyes glittered darkly in the faint starlight. “Time to see if you’re worthy of her. Here you go.” He pressed the bag into one hand, and the vial into the other.
There was no need for words, and Draco had none to add. He raised the vial in cheers before upending the bottle and gagging. His face contorted in disgust but before he could speak, he was sparkling. The same red glints from earlier spread across his body and he gasped in bone cracking agony, before flashing a bright flame orange and disappearing.
Severus Snape remained in the calm of night, letting the chill breeze tease his skin and lift a few strands of hair from his face. He let the panic and desperation ebb away into the dark. His job was done; and he would respect the Headmaster and not follow. He’d been offered a chance at redemption, and he wouldn’t allow misplaced affections for a bound woman to ruin it. He sat and leaned back against the boulders breathing deeply, watching the night in its eternal dance, waiting for the dawn to come.
Once, when Willow was younger, she was selected to represent her school in a spelling bee. She had been so excited that the morning of the competition, she'd thrown up twice on the way to school. Her mother fretted the entire way, worrying that Willow would mess up her new dress, orange with big blue daisies, and pinched her lips together in frustration when her eight year old daughter had motioned to pull over again. "Willow! Pull yourself together, getting sick isn't going to help matters. Besides, this is socially unacceptable behavior for someone your age." Properly chastised, the little girl clamped down on her gag reflex and managed not to strangle herself before arriving at the school.
Now, Willow couldn't even remember whether she had won that day or not. She did, however, remember the feeling sitting next to her mother in the family car, desperately trying not to toss her cookies from sheer apprehension. That was probably because she was doing the same thing, twelve years later with no spelling bee in sight. She gave a humongous sigh and walked to the door. It was time to face the music.
When the portal had grabbed her the night before, the only thing she could think of was that her crimes had finally caught up with her, and she was headed for some infernal hell dimension where she'd spend eternity listening to Celine Dion while pushing boulders up hills. When the pain had subsided enough to open her eyes, she nearly wept from relief. Peering down at her were Buffy and Xander looking extremely concerned. She then promptly passed out. When she woke up, Buffy and Xander were still leaning over her, and they'd been joined by Giles who was checking her pulse. Anya, Spike, and Dawn were sitting across the Summer's living room on the couch.
Willow struggled to sit up, offering a weak "Hi," at which point the looks of concern on the faces surrounding her subtly changed. Except for Xander who remained the same, of course, flush with simple care for the well being of his friend. The rest were more complex. Anya looked satisfied, if a little bored. Dawn looked apprehensive, like she wasn't sure whether Willow was really Willow, and if she was really Willow, if she'd try to kill everyone again. Giles looked relieved, if tense. Spike looked… odd, though Willow couldn't identify exactly what was off about him. As for Buffy, Willow couldn't read her. It was a mixture of relief and trepidation, mixed with a healthy dose wary watchfulness.
Hissing with the effort to move, she sat up fully and looked around. "Looks like I'm home…" she trailed off. Xander smothered her in a huge hug.
"Oh, God, Willow. We were so worried. And look! You're back! No more worries!" She gave a small squeak of pain and he released her. "Looks like portal travel worse than flying coach. You doing ok?"
She nodded, albeit slowly. "I'm alright, really. I'm a bit tired and sore though. Whatever you did really packs a wallop." She flashed a shaky grin. "I think I need to get some sleep or maybe a hot shower. Or a sleep then a shower." She shivered slightly despite her winter robes and tentatively flexed protesting muscles.
A moment of awkward silence commenced as the room watched Willow bend her fingers carefully before touching her chest firmly. Finally a bright voice broke out, "I told you it would work." Anya arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow when Willow didn't seem to want to add anything. "That's just great. We haul her bony ass all the way from another dimension and she doesn't even want to tell us about it!" She crossed her arms in disgust. "Fine, when she wants to play show and tell, call me." With that she stood up and vanished.
Willow's eyes widened and Xander saw the look. "Yeah, she's still all demony. Apparently the business is good these days."
Buffy grabbed Willow's hand with a tight smile that didn't really reach her eyes, despite her best intentions. "It's good to have you back, Wil. And don't worry, we'll be here when you wake up, ready to hear whatever you have to tell us. Though, I must say, that's an interesting dress you have on." She raised her eyebrows as Willow tilted her head in confusion.
"Oh! It's not really a dress, more like robes. It was cold this morning so I added an extra layer." The room blinked at her uncomprehendingly before she continued. "I promise I'll explain later. I'm glad to be back though." Immediately some of the tension in the room evaporated, even as Willow realized what a lie that was. Something felt missing, an aching space left vacant… She gasped when she finally realized what it was. She couldn't feel Draco's thoughts or emotions; they were distant and hollow, like she was seeing a poor second hand copy rather than the original. They had only been bound to each other for less than a day, and she could barely concentrate on the room around her as she felt desperately for the thin silver slivers that linked her to him. Her breath hitched and she rubbed her eyes.
"Yes, perhaps we should let Willow rest. Your belongings have been moved to Buffy's old room; we thought it best..." Everyone tensed at even this slight mention of Tara's demise. Grimacing, Giles extended a helping hand to pull her up. She nodded her thanks and slowly ascended the stairs, wincing in pain, and flashed a smile at Buffy and Xander as she went. Halfway up, it occurred to her that neither Dawn nor Spike had said a word.
So, a few hours of sleep in a bed strangely uncomfortable for one so familiar and a short shower later, Willow crept slowly down the hall, delaying the inevitable as much as possible. Being surrounded by familiar things was more disorienting than she cared to think about. The very objects that once signified home now only reminded her of a more painful time. Tara had picked out that print; Joyce had arranged those flowers. Everywhere she looked were traces of death and loss. She trembled with memories as her eyes glazed over with tears. Blinking fiercely, she clenched her hands until the nails dug red half moons into her palms and kept walking. As she neared the stairway, however, muted voices gave her pause.
"I dunno, Giles, she just seems different."
"Chill, Buff, it didn't look like she had an easy trip. She's probably just recuperating. Right, Giles? Tell her, Giles!" Xander's voice raised a few decibels and Willow could hear several "Shhh!"s.
"Honestly, Xander, I have no idea. She has been missing for months, and who knows what she's been forced to face. Where she looks like our Willow, she is most likely not the same Willow you put on the plane to England."
"We all hope not." Dawn's voice was laced with hostility, and Willow could hear tears behind the brave front. When the Buffy and Dawn found the pair of them, still on the bluff by the half erected temple, Dawn hadn't said a word, but her eyes spoke volumes. There was a strength there that hadn't existed before, and a cautious rage. Still befuddled from the magic washing through her, Willow hadn't really paid attention to anyone as she was helped back to the house. When she'd woken up, Giles presented her with a ticket to England and that afternoon they were gone. No apologies, no time to rectify recent wounds, she was just gone.
Willow nearly collapsed when what she'd tried to do to Dawn, tried to do to all of them, came rushing back. If she had been in their place, she wasn't sure how much effort she would have gone to retrieve her from where ever she'd vanished to. Disappearing had let her avoid all the traumas she had inflicted on various people in the wake of Tara's death. Giles had made little to no mention of the reasons why she was in England, preferring to concentrate on 'making her better'. Away from her former life, and without the visual reminders of her past actions, Willow had almost been able to convince herself that someone else had done the things her mind insisted were her actions alone.
She shook and took several deep breaths, trying desperately to find that sliver of safety she'd felt lying with Draco in bed that morning. Could it be that only morning? It seemed so much longer, perhaps a function of overloading her nervous system twice in one twenty four hour period. She didn't think telling the rest of the Scoobies that would have allayed their fears any, and she dreaded the day it all came to light. She laid her palm over the dragon on her chest and concentrated with every fiber of her being. Slowly she let the fear and anxiety coalesce into something manageable, something that she could deal with and still function like the Willow they remembered from years ago, the Willow they hoped they'd brought back.
When Willow again focused on the conversation downstairs, it had taken a slightly different turn. Buffy seemed to be arguing with Dawn about something, and Xander was still begging reassurances from Giles. Willow smiled grimly; Giles knew more than any of them what state she had been in before her… departure. Suddenly a new voice joined in.
"Just give Red the same chance you did me." The silence after Spike's speech was deafening.
"Spike, this is different. You went and got yourself a soul. Willow was in magic rehab. This is the same Willow that did all those awful things, not someone new." Dawn's tone was dismissive, as if she didn't believe that a souled Willow could have been so awful, but had to face the fact that she indeed had.
Willow found her self suddenly unable to breathe. She slid to the floor, her hands holding her head. A soul! That was what was different! What did he do? How did he do it? The ramifications sent her mind spinning, until she remembered the other point to Dawn's response. She could barely hold back the tears, but could hear the crew rustling around in the living room.
"It's been a few hours; I'd better go check on her." There was a thump as Buffy set down something and walked to the bottom of the stairs. Willow hastily stood and wiped her cheeks, breathing in and out several times before plastering a smile on her face and turning the corner.
"Hey, Buffy. I was just coming down." She tried to keep her voice level, but the look on her friend's face suggested she knew Willow had been listening.
"Good. You want anything to drink? I'm going to get a diet cola from the fridge."
"Um, that sounds good. You want any help?"
Buffy shook her head, the long blond pony tail swinging over mostly bare shoulders. "Nah, you go have a seat. You still look a little worse for the wear."
Nodding, Willow descended the rest of the stairs and walked into the living room. She paused to look around before tilting up her chin before finding a seat on an old rocker at the edge of the circle of Sunnydale's finest. Dawn and Spike were still on the couch, as if they'd never moved. Giles was furiously polishing his glasses in an arm chair and Xander was sprawled on the floor. He looked up as she crossed the room, sad eyes following her ever step. He sat up slightly and fished a cell phone out of his pocket. In the awkward silence following Willow's arrival, he rapidly dialed a number and held the phone to his ear.
"Hey, Ahn. Yes, she's up. Yeah, ok. No. Pick up some more of those little fried pie dodads will you? Yeah. K." He flipped the phone closed. "She'll be here in a bit; her latest gig is taking a bit longer than she thought. But, she did say she'd bring some of those empanada thingies." At Willow's incredulous look, he shrugged. "She's got lots of clients down in central America. Latin American chicks appear to really dig the vengeance thing…"
"And as long as she doesn't vengeance in my town, I don't have to slay her ass!" Buffy added brightly. She handed Willow a diet soda and curled up on the couch between Spike and Dawn. "So, what'd I miss?"
"Nothing, Buffy. Willow was about to explain where she's been the last few months." Giles finished polishing his glasses for the moment and hooked them over his nose pensively.
"Uh, erm… Yeah. But maybe you can tell me everything I've missed while I was gone first… Things seem different…" she trailed off as Dawn snorted.
"Sure, Willow. After Spike tried to rape Buffy right around the time you went all psycho bitch, he went to Africa and got his soul. He had a little insanity problem when he got back, and my sister found him rambling in the new school basement. Which is, incidentally, the same as the old Sunnydale High basement since the idiots on the school board decided that they should rebuild Hellmouth High and hired Xander's construction firm to do it. While Xander was busy building my prison for the next three years and setting Spike up in his guest room, Buffy was teaching me how to be a mini-slayer so I can kick anyone's ass that tries to revert me to my previous ball-o-energy form again. Oh, and Anya is still D'Hoffryn's girl, but you've already figured that out." Dawn fairly spat out her little tirade, ignoring Buffy's restraining hand on her arm and Spike's growing distress. Willow could only look on in frozen horror as Dawn snatched her arm away from her sister. "What! You're all thinking it. I know you were all 'Must go find Willow, she went and found me'. Look how well that turned out! Buffy, you spent nearly a year trying to get back into heaven. Our lives went to hell in a hand basket and one of my closest friends tried to kill me. You can't tell me that I should be glad she's back, because I'm not. What if she's still all black eyed and evil, just waiting for the next opportunity to do me in?" Dawn was oblivious to the tears running down her cheeks as she stood and stomped away from the couch. She turned before stalking off to get one last comment in. "Don't mess with me Willow, you'll find I have a few tricks up my sleeve you didn't expect."
The room was deathly quiet before Spike broke the silence. "Well, that wasn't the way I wanted you to find out about my sparkly new soul but at least it's out there. The rest of what Bit had to say… Giles told us you were making progress on the magic issue before you disappeared. That was enough for the Scoobies here to want to get you back." He flashed a grateful smile in Buffy's direction when she patted his hand.
"Spike's right. We would never have left you where ever you were, not if we could do something. Granted, it took a while, but we came through in the end."
Willow nodded and gathered her breath to speak, but before she could get a word out, there was a flash and pop and Anya stood in the middle of the room, holding a pair of paper sacks. "Here, there's a mixed bag, but I don't know what's in what. I thought she was never going to decide. It was all 'I wish… I wish…' Geez. Get on with it already. Finally she decided to have the little cheat be shit on for eternity, so I turned him into the only working toilet the village ever had. Of course, he's a conscious toilet, which is pretty unusual, but everyone was so happy to get indoor plumbing." She beamed. "Good deed for the day! So, what'd I miss?"
"That seems to be the question of the evening. Dawn was just saying how excited she was to have Willow return. And Willow was about to tell us where she's been." Giles kept his voice deliberately level, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Willow looked like she was about to fall apart, and kept rubbing her chest, as if she was stroking something under her shirt, her eyes slightly unfocused as if she was listening to something far away. He was proud of the way she was keeping her emotions under control, but her distracted air was putting him on his guard.
Dawn's comments hadn't helped, but he did understand her need to speak out. She'd been bottling up her feelings for months, and while she'd helped with the research and ritual to bring Willow from another dimension, Giles could see that it was tearing her up inside. Sometimes her family and friends forgot that she was only 16, not long out of childhood. During Anya's entrance, he'd seen Dawn's shadow outside the French doors and knew she was listening closely, if out of sight, and most definitely never out of mind. The bags of empanadas were passed around, though Willow refused to take any. He shook his head slightly and smiled encouragingly at Willow. "If you'd like to begin."
For the second time that night, she took a deep breath and began. "Well, Giles, I went to that retreat place the coven recommended like I told you. That afternoon I went for a walk and fell asleep by the lake. When I woke up, there was a big castle on the other side of the lake and I wasn't in Kansas anymore."
"See, I told you there was a castle! And you were all, 'Anya, don't be melodramatic, Willow can't possibly be held in a castle in another dimension.'" She humphed and crossed her arms, glaring at no one in particular. At Willow's look, she waved her hand and elaborated. "When Giles couldn't find you with a locator spell or anything, he sent me to find you. I just followed your magical signature and I ended up smacking into some magical barrier outside of this honkin' huge castle thing. So I came back and let them know you were alive. And since I couldn't get in, I figured you couldn't get out. Ergo, held against your will." She grinned proudly.
Willow blinked. "Thanks Anya. And there's an anti-apparate charm on the premises. Perhaps one against demons as well, which would explain how you were kept out. I was free to leave, but I didn't have anywhere else to go. They offered to let me stay, and I could use their library facilities to research ways to get home. They certainly didn't take me, nor expect me. I honestly have no idea how I got here. One minute, our world, the next theirs." She rubbed her eyes and looked around. Dawn had crept further around the corner of the doorway and was kneeling by the writing desk. Xander was munching on the fried pastries, but nodded along. The others were listening intently, and Giles leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
"You keep mentioning 'They'. Is there some reason you aren't being specific?" Buffy inclined her head and narrowed her eyes.
"Maybe." Willow swallowed. "Maybe I don't think you'll believe me."
"Come on Wil. After what we've seen we'd believe anything!" Xander affirmed, brushing the crumbs from his fingers. He grabbed a napkin, but before he could wipe his mouth he pointed at Willow. "Um, Wil? Why's your chest glowing?"
Willow's eyes grew wide and she jumped up, striding across the room to the mirror mounted over the fireplace mantle. With shaking fingers, she undid the top two buttons on her shirt, pulling the fabric aside. The binding was indeed glowing, and in the distraction of the reunion with her old friends, she hadn't realized that she could feel Draco much more intensely than she did when she first arrived. He was determined, and irritated, but somehow pleased. Concentrating, she tried to sense more, but there was still something blocking the connection. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't hear her friends crowding closely behind her.
"Cool. Is that a tattoo? Of a dragon?" Willow turned slightly dazed eyes in Buffy's direction.
"No, it's not a tattoo exactly…" She shook her head sharply a few times and her breathing became labored. "I can't really explain, but I can say it's never done this before." The air hissed out of her lungs and she moaned slightly, her body arching. Her friends gasped as the dragon suddenly changed shape, the wings became fully outstretched, and it blew out a large tongue of gold fire.
"Uh, Wils… it's moving."
She blearily opened her eyes. "It's supposed to… emote he said. Guess it's trying to tell me something." She closed her eyes again.
"He who? What did he say? What have you done?" Buffy grabbed Willow's arms and shook her slightly. The minute the words left her mouth, a bright orange flame erupted in the middle of the living room.
Out of the fire walked a talk slender man with white blond hair and long dark robes. He glanced around the room with a decidedly superior air, as if the world owed him an explanation, before his eyes lit on Willow. He strode across the room and pushed Buffy aside, grasping the back of Willow's head with one hand, the other tracing the outline of her cheekbone. He bowed his forehead to touch hers and clasped her body close to his. "I will not lose what's mine. Don't you ever scare me that much again, Firestarter." Willow wrapped her arms around his torso, sliding under his cloak, gripping his back fiercely. "And I believe you have quite a story to tell me…" Willow sniffled and broke out into a sheepish grin.
Buffy was surprised to see tears leaking out from beneath Willow's closed lids, but it did nothing to lessen her annoyance. She crossed her arms and glared. "And just who do you think you are buster? Burst into my living room and go all grabby hands on my friend?"
He turned to face her, sneering down at the diminutive woman even as Willow moved to place herself between her friend and lover. "I am Draco Malfoy."