Just Like Home.
****

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

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

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

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

"Ronald Weasley,"

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

"I’m Hermione Granger."

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

She smiled.

"I’m Harry Potter."

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

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

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

"No one except our Dark Art’s teacher a couple years back," Draco snorted.

The Slytherins laughed along with a few Gryffindors.

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

The class fell silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Y’ heard what I said, Malfoy. Out. Now."

Draco didn’t move. He was too shocked.

"If you don’t get outta my classroom right now-"

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

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

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

They turned to look at Professor MacGonagall.

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

"Did you go to school with him?" Harry asked.

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

"He barely looks thirty," Hermione pointed out.

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

**

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

The class giggled.

"You went to Hogwarts, Professor?" Seamus asked.

Their teacher nodded. "That I did."

"When?" Dean asked.

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

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

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

"And Sirius Black?" Ron asked.

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

**

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

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

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

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

Until she heard a comment from one of their students.

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

One name came to mind.

Spike.

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

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

Faith stopped dead in her tracks.

The room went silent.

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

The blond squeaked.

"I expect an answer Dweebo!" Faith snapped. "NOW!"

"Yes! I understand!" He cried with his eyes closed.

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

"D-Draco Malfoy."

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

**

"Welcome to Levitation! I’m Professor Maclay."

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

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

"Shut it, you Ferret-y bastard," Ron snapped.

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

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

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

The class laughed.

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

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel went ghostly pale.

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

Angel put up his hands. "Neville. no one is blaming you. What. happened?"

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

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

Angel sighed. "Buffy? Faith?"

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

Faith stamped a foot. "Dammit!"

Hermione looked horrified, clutching Ron’s arm. "W-what happened to him?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Dumbledore asked. "How can that be?"

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

"Any calling cards?" Buffy asked.

Angel sighed. "Not that I can tell."

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

He herded them to his office and shut the door.

"What about the body?" Faith asked.

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

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

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

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

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

Angel pounded a fist on Dumbledore’s desk. "Damn."

Buffy stared at him. "What?"

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

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

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

"Oh, god."

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

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

"No railroad spike," Faith pointed out.

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

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

Blood and Bleach.
****

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

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

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

Rumors of Vampires spread like wildfire.

And finally, it happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"V-V-V-"

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

"Y-you’re-"

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

"He looks like you."

Spike turned to Drusilla. "What?"

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

"Sounds like Spike to me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let the Slytherin go," Faith said.

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

"What happened to the chip, Spike?" Buffy asked.

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

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

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

"I don’t think you wanna find out."

"Spike, I’m hungry," Drusilla wined.

"So, eat."

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

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

And that’s when Peeves showed up.

"VAMPIRES!!! THERE ARE VAMPIRES AT HOGWARTS!" he screamed.

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

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

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

Angel sighed. "They coulda gone to one of the dorms."

"Without a password?" Buffy asked.

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

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

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

"Fine, no thanks to you lot," Draco snapped.

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

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

Malfoy shrugged. "I don’t know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel’s eyes became hard. "They are my responsibility."

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

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

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

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

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buffy sighed. "Angel, do you love me?"

He nodded. "Forever."

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

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

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

Angel nodded again. "Okay. Let’s keep looking."

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

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

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

"Who are Spike and Dru?" Ron asked.

"Obviously whatever it was that killed the Ravenclaw," Harry replied.

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

"Far too late for that, Hermione Katherine Granger."

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

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

"What about you?" Hermione asked. "What’re you doing out?"

"Looking for Professors O’Brien and Summers."

"They just left," Ron told him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right behind her was Draco Malfoy.

Snape looked furious.

"Where have you been?" He glared.

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

She smirked at Willow and Tara and tromped out.

Snape glared after her.

:: On to Chapter Three ::