Title: Unexpected Visitor
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: R
Pairing: W/Draco
Genre: BtVS/HP Crossover
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these fine and upstanding characters. Nor do I claim to. I am in no way affiliated with the registered owners of these characters.
Distribution: WLF, NHA, BMP, WLS, Serena, Aislin, any list owner’s sites that I post to.
Author’s Notes: This takes place during Season 3 BtVS – however!!! – there is no Ascension and no blowing up of the school. We will assume for this fic that there is just normal Hellmouthy and almost Graduating type of things going on. The fic starts a month before end of term. In the world of HP this takes place during Draco’s (and thus Harry’s, etc) 7th year. Voldemort is still on the loose. Draco Malfoy has made his allegiances to the Light known and Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban.
Summary: While snooping around a Professor’s rooms, Draco finds himself getting portkeyed to Sunnydale.

~*~Part One~*~

Draco breathed a soft sigh of relief as Professor Snape’s office door swung open easily. Either his Head of House had forgot to lock up before retiring for the night – or he’d be back very soon. The blonde haired Slytherin eased into the room, his gray eyes frantically searching for the object of his midnight wanderings. The others were waiting for him, back in the Slytherin Common Room. Waiting for him to return with the one thing he had been dared to retrieve.

Snape’s lesson plans for the upcoming week.

He shivered in anticipation, knowing that if he got caught he was as good as dead.

Okay, so not –dead-, per se, he argued silently with himself. The Professor was actually pretty lenient with him when it came to breaking rules and the like. It was expected of Slytherins to do such things, after all. Might as well say it was their destiny to be the ‘bad seeds’ of Hogwarts. And, as such, their Head of House was understanding.

But that didn’t mean he’d ever forgive one of them for stealing his lesson plans.

"Last time I play truth or dare with those prats." He hissed under his breath, rifling carefully through a stack of papers that appeared to have been set aside for grading. No lesson plans there. It had seemed like good fun, at first, when Pansy and some of the others, all students who had renounced the Dark Lord in favor of fighting for the Light, had suggested a Friday night party in the Common Room. There would be alcohol and food and fun and games.

It was the games that had gotten him into trouble. Truth or Dare. A muggle game that he was surprised Pansy had even heard of before. She had explained the rules in her nearly obnoxious whining voice, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. And, in the beginning, it hadn’t been that bad. He had chosen truth and answered some annoyingly witless question from Millicent – something about his favorite toy when he was a child. The second question of the night had been more intrusive, however, and by the time they got to him for the fourth time he was all truthed out.

So he chose dare.

Needless to say, his fellow Housemates weren’t ones to let a golden opportunity for absolute mischief pass them by. They had huddled together, leaving Draco sitting alone in a high-backed chair near the fireplace, and had come up with the only thing they could truly see as worthy of his greatness.

Stealing from Professor Snape.

So, here he was, only a little before one in the morning, creeping through the Potion Master’s office and praying to any gods that were listening that he wouldn’t get caught. There was only so much you could talk yourself out of, and this was not one of those things.

He sat down behind the desk, keeping wary for any signs of someone moving through the hallway, and began to go through the drawers one by one. The first was filled with miscellaneous potions accoutrements, things the Professor would need during classes or for working after class filling Madam Pomfrey’s current school infirmary needs. The second drawer was just more paperwork, some scrolls of homework that students had never bothered to pick up throughout the school year, most with grades that made Draco shudder in horror.

But the third drawer was where he hit jackpot.

He pulled out the worn, thick book, bound together on the sides with strips of suede and made up of so many pieces of thin parchment. In it, he soon discovered, were the lesson plans for the rest of the school year. A smirk flitted across his face as he grabbed a blank sheet of paper from the desk and muttered a quick transcription charm. Within only moments the lesson plans for the next week were copied and ready to be delivered as a completion of his dare. He leaned down, lesson book in hand, to replace what he had pulled from the drawer.

And something else caught his eye.

A small, velvet covered box, much like those his mother often brought back on trips from Diagon Alley. A jewelry box. He reached for it. What was one more transgression in a night already full of them? Might as well see what Professor Snape is keeping in his desk in a jewelry box. Some family heirloom? A present for a secret mistress or lover? A million and one thoughts trampled through Draco’s brain as he flipped open the box.

A locket.

It was beautiful. Gold, with delicate engravings on the outside – flowers and what looked like a hummingbird. It was a small locket, though. Definitely not something a man would wear, more like for a small female child. But Snape didn’t have any children. At least, not that Draco knew of.

"Maybe there’s something inside –" He murmured to himself, the point of his dare forgotten in light of the mystery in his hands. He reached for the locket, his fingers only grazing the outside of it before he felt the familiar twisting, gut-wrenching sensation of a portkey.

And then, he was gone.

~*~

Willow tapped her pen rhythmically against the notepad that was lying, ever empty, in front of her. She usually had little trouble with homework, however not tonight. Tonight she was fretting over a simple assignment.

Creative writing.

Oh, she was plenty creative and definitely one for the whole writing thing, at least that’s what she liked to think. But tonight everything seemed to be escaping her. And with this being her last few weeks of high school –ever-! She was frustrated. How hard could it be to write this last story? Just one more fictional piece to appease the mind of her teacher and further secure that perfect A she knew she was already getting.

-- The grand wizard pulled his billowing cloak around him, staring into what could only be called the ‘face’ of the maelstrom. His eyes were dark, like coal, and his pale face was drawn and weary. Would this be the end?   ---

She stopped, throwing the pen to the bed with a growling moan. How could she possibly write anything when all that was on her mind at that moment was her father? It was always like this for her. As the time when his scheduled visits drew near she would find herself dwelling on the man that she only was able to see a few times a year. He was a wonderful person; she had come to find out slowly, as she had gotten older. And the circumstances that kept her from being able to be by his side were about the most damnable that she had ever heard – even living on the Hellmouth as she did.

The young witch stood, stretching her arms up over her head. School had only been out for a couple hours and already she was bored. Buffy would be with Angel already and Xander would be doing whatever it was that he did after school. There were no impending apocalypses or prophecies to be fulfilled, so therefore no research. She laughed aloud at the idea that her father had actually sent her here, to the Hellmouth, as no more than a babe, to live a ‘safer’ life than he could provide for her. She had never bothered to set him straight on that and, for all she knew, he was already aware of what went on here.

That was a sobering thought, though. What if this really –was- a safer place than where he was? Than the life he led? True, she risked her life on an almost weekly basis to keep the world as they knew it from being destroyed, but it was readily possible that he was in a more dangerous situation. She knew that he was a spy against a Dark Lord in wizarding Britain and that he was a teacher at a school of magic. Her dad. A wizard. It was terribly cool. She wished, not for the first time, that she had the courage to tell him that she was also gifted in those regards – that she was a witch.

But she didn’t.

From everything he had said, real witches and wizards came into their powers, if not at birth, then sometime around early adolescence, perhaps ten or eleven. She hadn’t shown any signs at all until she was nearly sixteen. Much too old, in her estimation. That had to mean that she was magically deformed in some way. Better to let him think that she had no talent at all than to let him realize she was somehow ‘slow’. She had never been slow at anything in her entire life, and she’d be damned if she started now. So, when he visited, she did her best to live a normal life. She put away her spell books, hid her potions ingredients, and did everything the normal ‘muggle’ way, as he called it.

She didn’t want to disappoint him in her anymore than she already had, after all.

Oh – he never came right out and said that he was disappointed, but it was clear in those black eyes of his that he wished she had turned out to be a proper witch. She was a pureblood, but devoid of magic as far as he knew. And she was going to keep it that way. It was far too late for her to be trained, anyhow. And what good would it do him to know? He couldn’t have here there, by his side. Her entire existence had to remain a secret except to those few people he had entrusted the knowledge to or else she could find herself in very real danger. Even Buffy and Xander weren’t aware that Sheila and Ira were not her real parents. That was just the life she led.

"Super secret Willow-witch." She smirked softly, opening her balcony doors and stepping outside. The sun was rapidly setting, the fading rays creating a myriad assortment of colors on the impending night sky. The air was slightly chill, still a little cool even for May. She whispered a warming spell, sighing with relief when her bare arms began to heat up a little. Somewhere nearby a bird was sending its last cries out to the heavens, before retreating to its night time resting place. She smiled. Peace on the Hellmouth, who would have thought it?

But then the air itself changed.

She felt the crackle of power on her skin, familiar yet not overly so, and tensed, turning to her room. She stepped to the doors, pushing aside the flimsy curtain to watch with anticipation. He wasn’t due to be visiting yet.  Not for another week. Her stomach tightened with excitement as the crackling air built up to an easily tangible force.

And then the energy broke like a water balloon, a loud ‘pop’ filling the silence. Willow’s eyes widened at the sight before her, unconsciously licking her lips. The stranger hadn’t noticed her yet. He was still trying to get his bearings as far as she could tell. The confusion in his silvery eyes told her volumes about what little he knew about where he was. Was it possible he didn’t even know –how- he had gotten here? Only one person was supposed to have a portkey to her room and that was her father. Her eyes strayed over the rest of his body. He was well-shaped from what she could tell as his loose robes moved whilst he turned in circles, still trying to figure out where he was. She chuckled softly, unintentionally.

And realized her mistake immediately.

Standing in profile, he turned slowly, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since he portkeyed into her room. She arched an eyebrow at him, daring him to do anything, the words of a suitable hex already on the tip of her tongue.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you." She smirked, her eyes flickering to the hand he was ever so casually trying to slip in his pocket. For a wand or a what, she didn’t know – and wasn’t about to let him try so she could find out. "I’ll hex you to oblivion, buddy. So take the hand away from the pocket."

The stranger nodded slowly and licked his lips, the soft sounds of their breathing filling the silence between them. She let her eyes travel to the object he was still holding in his other hand, inhaling sharply at the sight of it. She recognized that box. It was from the locket she had given her father so many years ago, when she was still a naïve child. The locket was the portkey he used to get to and from her house.

"My locket –" She whispered, anger beginning to cloud her better judgment. She took a step towards the boy – no, man, she told herself – and felt her power gather around her like a cloak. "What did you do to my father? Why do you have that box?"

~*~

Draco heard the words, yet they made little sense. Her father? No. This had come from Professor Snape’s desk – not her father.

Oh.

Merlin’s ghost.

He felt faint.

"Professor Snape – is your father?"

The red haired woman arched one delicately formed eyebrow at him, her mouth curling into a sneer that said all too clearly, without her speaking a word, that yes, she was definitely the Potion Master’s daughter.

"Severus Snape is my father." She hissed. "And he would –never- give anyone that portkey."

Draco winced as the air began to charge with power. It was like the feeling of electricity in the air before lightning struck, deadly and dangerous, with a thrill of excitement. Even as she took another step towards him, her eyes darkening with energy, he couldn’t help but note that she was dangerously beautiful, even if she did look a little too much like a Weasley for his better tastes. Her hair was long, reaching nearly down to her mid-back, and her eyes, when they hadn’t been filled with power, were a shade of green that reminded him of pure emeralds.

She took another step and suddenly he remembered all too clearly that he was in the middle of a life or death situation. He held up his hands in a pleading gesture. There was no way he could get his wand out of his pocket in time to defend himself.

"Look – I didn’t mean to, alright?" He murmured, putting his best convincing tone into his voice. He nearly lost his cool when he realized that that same convincing tone he was meaning to use was coming out as more of a purr.

"You didn’t mean to –what-?" She had stopped moving but was now standing very, very close. The scent of her skin was more of a turn on that Draco should have allowed it to be given the circumstances of his situation.

~*~

Willow forced herself not to cast a strangle hex on the handsome young man in front of her, choosing to let her better judgment prevail, if only for a moment. Maybe he did have a valid excuse for what he had done. Besides, his voice was absolutely lovely. Definitely a turn on.

Damnit.

‘No getting turned on by mysterious, handsome men that drop into your bedroom unannounced!’ She berated herself, unbeknownst to the hottie she was currently intent on scaring.

"My Housemates and I were playing Truth or Dare." He continued, shuffling back just a step to put a some distance between her and himself. She allowed it, watching him carefully. She caught a flash of the inside of the box and realized that the locket wasn’t in it. He must have dropped it as the portkey activated. Good. At least her father could still get here, hopefully soon, to save her if necessary.

Or to save her unexpected visitor – whatever the case turned out to be.

"And?" She prompted, when he didn’t continue with his story.

"And I was dared to steal Professor Snape’s lesson plans for next week. I saw the locket in his desk drawer when I was getting the lessons and I – got curious."

Willow bit back a laugh but was unable to fight off the shiver that went through her as her visitor silkily described the events that had led him to show up in her bedroom. This was not a good time to be getting all hormonal, though! She growled mentally.

"Father’s not going to be happy." She finally sighed. "Not happy at all. He’ll have to use a memory charm. Goddess. This is bad. I’m Willow, by the way."

"Draco."

Willow took his hand, her body lighting up at the sparks that the simple contact brought between them. Had he felt it too? Nah. That was definitely just a product of her overactive imagination and lack of male companionship. She was just a normal eighteen year old girl, after all – and he was a devastatingly handsome stranger with a killer accent.

But, looking back into those silvery eyes, she could almost imagine that she saw, ever so briefly, some type of lust in him as well. She dropped his hand, stepping back a pace. He was one of her father’s students, not some object to be desired. He needed to go back from whence he came, in fact! Right back to school and away from her. Back to her father so that he could take away his memories.

This could be disastrous.

She fell back on her bed, shaking her head in misery, her eyes straying once again to her visitor and the trouble he was no doubt going to bring.

Strike that.

This –was- disastrous.

~*~Part Two: The Deal~*~

~*~ Willow’s Tale~*~

She had been joking, of course, when she claimed that she didn’t know if her own story would be as dramatic as his. In a way it was, of course.

In many ways it was even more so.

"My name is Willow Helena Snape; though only a handful of people know that name. Everyone else knows me as Willow Anne Rosenberg." She tilted her head to the side, pondering where to start, her eyes wide with the difficulty of what would seem such a simple task. "My father is Severus Snape, whom you know as your Potions Professor. My mother was Helena Rowena Snape. And her very existence in relation to my father, right up to the moment she died in childbirth, was a virtual secret from the wizarding world. Not even my father’s parents knew my mother. It was too dangerous. For her, for my father, for any child that could be borne of their union."

"So – for you?" Draco interrupted quietly.

"Yes. For me." She spared him a small smile and felt him squeeze her hand in response. It was nice to find comfort, even if it came so unexpectedly, she decided after a moment’s contemplation. The memory of the kiss she had shared with him only moments before was still fresh in her mind.

"My mother, like I said, died in childbirth. It would have been easier, of course, if she had lived. Her and I could have stayed in relative obscurity together. She was a Ravenclaw, you know, and very smart. But she had that touch of cunning that could have made her a good Slytherin, dad says. She would have kept me safe while dad did what he did. Protecting others by betraying those who called him ‘friend’. Putting himself in the heart of danger to make sure that more innocents didn’t die."

"He’s a spy." Draco nodded at the look of surprise on her face. He shrugged easily. "I’ve known since my parents died."

"Good. Well, not good about the dying part. But good that you know about my dad. Makes this easier to tell, probably easier for you to understand, too."

She sighed, picking up where she left off, half-conscious that his hand was rubbing her arm now.

"Dad decided that the single best way to keep me out of danger was to take me as far away from danger as possible. And to also cut off any ties he had with me." Her voice cracked under the strain of the emotions she was feeling. "I didn’t meet him for the first time until I was five, you know. I didn’t have a clue who he was. Sheila and Ira, my adoptive parents, introduced him as ‘a friend of the family’. It wasn’t until I was ten that they all let me in on the ‘secret’. They had to – dad was secretly hoping I’d get a letter from Hogwarts, or even one of the American schools, the next year. Sure, it would mean another set of lies and facades if I got accepted to Hogwarts – but we’d be together at last. He’d have a reason to see me everyday and it wouldn’t even arouse suspicion."

Draco knew that she hadn’t gone to Hogwarts. He would have seen her around, so he asked the next logical question.

"Did you go to another school?"

Willow shook her head.

"No. I didn’t. Nor did I show any propensity for magic. Not when I was eleven. Or twelves. Nor thirteen. Not a lick –"

"But – when I came in --" Draco stammered, thinking back to her threat to curse him to oblivion.

"We’ll get to that." Willow smiled gently, her eyes half-closed with the remembering of such intimate details of her life.

"Anyway. . . Dad showed up on my tenth birthday. Just like he had every year since I was five. It was one of two times during the year I could count on seeing him. And he sits me down and tells me this wonderful story. Of himself, my mom, and how he was forced to place me with Muggle adoptive parents in the States to keep me away from You-Know-Who. It would’ve blown dad’s cover as a spy, too, needless to say, if the Dark Lord found out he’d been going behind his back, having a family; daring to love and care."

Draco leaned a little closer to Willow, slipping his arm behind her, his hand on the bed covers to her right. He grinned, just a tad bit sexily, at the smile she threw his way, and the subsequent way she leaned up against that silent support.

"Do you get your looks from your mother?" He asked quietly, curious about the hair. If she hadn’t said her mother was a Ravenclaw he would have assumed she was related in some way to the Weasleys. Hair that color was such a rare genetic thing in the wizarding world that it was a very honest assumption.

"Mmm. You mean the red hair, huh?" She chuckled at his nod. "Dad thinks it’s dyed. But you want to know a secret?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Watch – " She closed her eyes, whispering a short incantation under her breath. The red hair faded away to long black locks that curled slightly at the ends. Her green eyes remained, along with her facial features and structure. It was amazing, all things told, the way a hair color could make someone look so completely different. If she hadn’t been beautiful before, he would have said she was merely beautiful now. But, seeing as how she was already beautiful, he now found her absolutely entrancing.

And there was no doubt whose daughter she was now.

"Magnificent." He murmured, unable to resist his lips coming into contact with hers again, for a kiss that was only slightly less chaste than the one before.

"You think?" She asked, a little breathless, when they parted again.

"Definitely." And the smile on his lips was full of seduction. But – "You said that you never showed any signs of magical aptitude –"

"No." Willow giggled. "I said I didn’t show any by the time I should have started school or the years thereafter. I didn’t show any until I was sixteen. . . not even two years now."

"Sixteen?"

"Yeah." Willow sighed, her face flaming with embarassment. "Some loser I am, right? Couldn’t be a good Muggle and have no magic. Can’t be a proper witch because I didn’t develop on time."

"What --?" Draco frowned. "Who ever said that you couldn’t be a proper witch? Snape? I would’ve thought that he knew better than that."

"He doesn’t know." The red head shook her head frantically, those green eyes wide with horror. "He doesn’t know that I can do even the simplest spell, Draco. I was afraid to make him more disappointed in me than I know he already is. He has enough to worry about without thinking more about his little disappointment."

"He told you he’s disappointed in you?" That didn’t sound right to Draco. Professor Snape was many things – a hard taskmaster, a grueling teacher. But he was also very loyal; and Draco could only imagine that he would be even more so to his own child, a female child at that. He had never once pictured him as being the type that would say or do anything so emotionally abusive as telling a child they were a disappointment. That was something his own father would have done.

And Snape was nothing like Lucius Malfoy.

"Well – not *told* exactly." Willow admitted slowly. "But you can tell. He says things sometimes. That he wishes I could have gone to Hogwarts, even under disguise. He never comes right out and says he’s disappointed – but I can tell."

Draco snorted.

"He’s not disappointed in you. He just wishes you could have experienced that. There. With him. Like any father would. That school is a big part of who he is, you know." He paused, looking in her eyes with all of the reassurance he could manage. "You should tell him that you’re a witch. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed with the results."

"Yeah, sure." Willow sighed. "Just tell him that I’ve been hiding this from him for the past two years. He’ll love that."

"What kind of magic have you done without any schooling?"

"Well – I restored a vampire’s soul once. He was a friend of ours and, well, it needed to be done. A lot of smaller spells, of course. Fire, light, levitation. Giles, the school librarian, has lots of neat books on the Arts. Closing the Hellmouth was fun, even though it keeps acting like its going to reopen. Oh! Oh! And, in about two weeks, I’m going to help prevent an Ascension."

"An Ascension?" Draco’s eyebrows flew up to his hair. He had heard of those in DADA. It was the event during which a petty mortal could become one of the larger demons. It was a bad thing. Something that usually took a hoarde of trained Aurors to deal with once the event itself had begun. She looked so proud at her little revelation, he couldn’t help but smile even as he asked, "You couldn’t kill him now, before he does the transformation?"

Willow shook her head.

"He ate these nasty spider thingies that basically made him immortal until the day of the Ascension."

"And you know what day that is? Did he post it in the paper or something?"

She laughed.

"No, silly. We overhead it, of course. And it’s going to be at my high school Graduation. He plans on eating the Graduating class for his first meal as a big bad. Nice of him, huh?"

Draco was floored. This woman was Snape’s daughter. She was a witch. She was a *powerful* witch, at that, if he were to understand everything. And she was going to be risking her life in very short order to save others. To top it all off she was stunningly gorgeous once she released the glamour on her hair.

He was liking her more and more by the second.

"That’s really all there is to tell about me." She sighed, sad that their time would be ending soon. "It’s a shame that dad probably won’t let you remember any of this, Draco. It was nice to have someone to talk to. . . even if only for a few minutes."

"Same." The blonde haired boy nodded, a shudder passing through him at her reminder of her father and his memory. Snape would never let him remember this. It was too dangerous for both him and Willow as long as the Dark Lord was still running around.

Without thinking, Draco leaned in, his lips pressing hard against those of the dark haired woman sitting next to him. She opened willingly to the soft probing of his tongue. His mouth tasted of chocolate; something her father had told her was quite popular in the wizarding world, and something buttery. It was a wonderful taste, one that would ruin chocolate for her for the rest of her life as she remembered this night of perfection. She nearly groaned aloud when he lifted a hand to rub her shoulders, his body sliding so close to her on the bed that she could feel the heat coming off of his skin.

She knew that she shouldn’t even think of doing what she was about to do. But that was what made it feel that much better. She had connected with this man. She had given him the keys to her life and bid him not hurt her, and he had done the same with her. There was a bond between them, one that was invisible to all but still that much more tangible. She felt as if she could actually touch it if only she looked hard enough.

"Willow – " Draco murmured into her mouth, his lips departing from her mouth to nibble at her earlobe, then neck. She arched up into his touch; quite willing for the intimacy he was offering her silently, with his mouth and hands.

His hand slid down, over the fabric covering her breasts. She moaned, her head thrown back in the ecstasy of his touch. And then he was lifting up the t-shirt, pulling it over her head, his lips breaking contact with her skin for only a moment before he was swooping down again to this time kiss at the rounded globes of her breasts.

"Draco." She sighed, passion overwhelming any better senses she might have had. The look he gave her, eyes cast upwards from where he still licked and bit at her breasts, was that of a man possessed by desire. She had never had anyone look at her like that. Not in her entire life. It was the way men in movies looked at women they were destined to be with.

And a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if that was the connection she felt.

But then he was pulling away her bra, his fingertips grazing her nipples as his mouth descended on first one then the other. She leaned back, his body covering hers easily. She could feel the hardness of his arousal digging into her flesh. Her hands came between them, feeling inelegantly for the zipper, which she then released. Draco groaned as her hand came into contact with his heated flesh.

She had just wrapped her fingers around him, beginning to stroke him in a languid pace that would, only eventually bring him to climax; when the first feelings of ‘something’ began to seep into her skin. She smiled, attributing that building pressure that was filling the room with the activity she was engaging very heatedly in. Draco had kicked off his trousers and had managed to get her own pants undone, one hand working them down off her hips as he kissed her lips, neck, and chest. Anywhere he could reach.

And so she ignored that building sensation, reveling in the pleasure of this man in her arms and the passionate conclusion they were rushing headlong into. She moaned, calling his name as he slipped into her warm channel, just as the pressure she had ignored building in the room burst with a ‘pop!’. Her eyes widened automatically and she struggled to sit up, knowing immediately what had happened.

"Oh goddess. Draco. Get off."

"Trying, Willow." He grinned at her, sex in his eyes.

"No. No. No." She shook her head, afraid to look over the blonde’s shoulder. "You need to get off of me and now."

"I thought – "

And then he heard it, the heavy breathing of someone that wasn’t him and wasn’t her. It wasn’t the type of heavy breathing one got from passion, either. This was the furious struggle of someone mired in pure rage.

"Merlin –" He uttered, turning slowly, instinctively trying to cover himself from the intruder in the room.

"Mister Malfoy. I would suggest you extricate yourself from my daughter. Quickly. And you, Miss Snape. Cover yourself!"

Draco whimpered, his eyes wide with terror.

Professor Snape.

‘Oh fuck’ didn’t quite cover what he felt at that moment.

~*~ In Which Truths Are Realized~*~

Hastily dressed, Willow found herself in the awkward position of having to deal with the situation she had been so readily involved in before her father’s untimely appearance.

However, awkwardness could only last so long.

And it appeared her father would rather she be terrified.

And Draco be quite dead.

"Mister Malfoy." Severus Snape growled, raising his wand to point directly at the younger wizard’s chest. He took one menacing step towards the seventh year student, his black eyes flashing menacingly. "I cannot even begin to list the numerous rules that you have broken tonight. Not to mention the position in which I caught you when I arrived."

"Sir –"

"Silence!" The Potions Master snarled, his wand quivering with the rage he was feeling inside. "Do not speak to me!"

Willow felt a cold shiver run through her spine. Her father was beyond furious. In fact, she wasn’t sure if he was even capable of being a rational adult at this point. But he was the one holding the wand to Draco’s chest, his very manor threatening intense bodily harm, if not instantaneous death, for the boy she had connected to, and with, not too long before.

That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

So she seized onto the one trump card she had left in the deck of her life, throwing it onto the figurative table in the hopes of getting her father’s thoughts off of Draco until he had calmed down again.

"Daddy, please. Stop. Put down the wand." She pleaded, trying good old-fashioned reasoning before revealing the ace up her sleeve. If she could just get him to calm down a touch, just enough for reason to get back to his enraged senses, then maybe they could work through this without anyone getting hurt. "Its as much my fault as it is his."

Severus snorted.

"Somehow I doubt that."

Willow frowned, forgetting her plan for one moment.

"You doubt that?" She sneered. "Doubt –what-, exactly? That I wanted him to have sex with me?" Now she snorted. "Hello? I was the girl with her legs all spread and trying to get some, father dearest. Its hardly his fault that I was so ready and willing."

Uh oh.

Not the best course of action, it seemed.

"Very well, then, Miss Snape. I shall dispatch Mister Malfoy and then deal with you as well."

"Dispatch?" Willow shrieked, shaking her head. "There shall be no dispatching. To anyone. Not in my house and not back at your silly little school either. Obliviate him if you want. Ground me for the rest of my natural life. But do *not* do any dispatching."

"Willow – "

It was now or never, she decided. His wand wasn’t coming down. The sneer on his face wasn’t faltering. And she would be damned if she was going to see Draco end up a pile of ashes on her bed.

"Accio wand!" She called, frantically, her hand shooting forward to receive the wand that flew from her father’s hand to her own, coming along like an obedient puppy. She took a deep breath, turning the wand on its owner with a flick of her wrist. Now it was her turn to be menacing and threatening. "I repeat. There. Will. Be. No. Dispatching. Ever."

If her purpose had been to give her father something else to think about, she could tell by his wide, shocked, eyes that she had succeeded marvelously. Still on the bed, Draco was struggling between laughter and terror at the scenario unfolding before him. She wanted to tell him that this was not the time to laugh hysterically, but she didn’t dare take one iota of attention off of her father. Not until she was sure he wasn’t going to kill Draco, and maybe her, for catching them in the middle of having what she was sure was going to be mind-blowing sex.

"You – Wand – Accio – You -- "

"Did magic." She nodded at her father, biting her lip. His eyes were locked on her as though she had grown a second head. Which she hadn’t. She had just done a very minor spell. Very minor.

"But –"

Willow shook her head.

"Uh uh. You promise that we can all sit down and talk like reasonable adults and I’ll tell you about me and the mojo stuff. Hell, I may even be completely honest with you which will be a treat for sure."

"You –"

"Yes, we already went over that." The red head sighed, secretly amused at the way her father was reacting. Though, that nagging doubt that he would be immensely disappointed in her was still there. And could Draco please stop snickering behind her? It was entirely unsettling! "I did magic. You will not be killing Draco nor myself. And I will gladly sit down and speak with you regarding the matter if you will *behave*."

Severus Snape popped his mouth shut. Eyes that had been dark with rage only moments before were now cloudy with confusion. She didn’t blame him in the least. Not for his reaction before and not for his reaction now. He had every right to feel however he wished about the situation they were in. But killing, maiming or torturing was not the answer.

"Very well." He said finally, stepping towards her bedroom door. "Sheila and Ira --?"

"Are in New York." Willow said simply with a sigh. "You know they don’t really like to be around here that much. We can go down to the living room. I’ll make some tea or coffee. Whatever you want."

"Will you be using magic to accomplish that feat as well?" Her father murmured softly, still caught up in the shock of the moment. At least now there was a touch of sarcasm to his tone, a sign that she hadn’t injured him beyond salvation with her revelations and actions.

She threw a saucy grin over her shoulder at him, ushering Draco out of her room first, with her conveniently between the blonde and her father.

"Perhaps. But I find that the tea kettle does an admirable job all by itself."

Severus shook his head, the beginnings of a true smile creeping across his lips.

"My daughter is a witch."

~*~

Willow was hesitant to leave her father and Draco sitting in the living room alone. But she still had her father’s wand and Draco still had his own. This bolstered her confidence that perhaps they would be safe together for a few moments.

It seemed like an eternity before the tea kettle began to whistle. She took it off of the stove, placing it on a tray with the cups and saucers she had already set out. Cream and sugar, because for some reason that’s how her father drank his tea, completed the tray. With an impudent grin she levitated the tray in front of her, walking it carefully out to the living room.

Again she was greeted by the sight of her father struck speechless. It was one thing for him to say outloud that his daughter was a witch. It was another thing entirely for him to see the very proof of it in action. She set the tray down on the table without spilling so much as a drop and fixed him a cup in silence.

"Sugar? Cream?" She offered to Draco, sneaking a reassuring smile his way. He shook his head and she handed him a cup of tea without her father’s nauseating embellishments.

"So –" She began, wringing her hands unconsciously as she waited for her father to speak.

"You’re a witch."

She nodded.

"That I am."

Severus paused, taking a sip of the tea. The warmth flooded over his tongue, down his throat, heating his insides for just a moment before the warmth faded.

"How? You never showed any signs –"

"You’re right. I didn’t. Not until I was sixteen."

"And you didn’t tell me because --?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Because I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me." She sighed, sad. "I mean. Here I was, not even getting any powers until I was well past the age to go to school for it. I knew something had to be wrong with me. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed or worried or anything."

"Why would I be disappointed?"

"That’s what I tried to tell her." Draco nodded. He wilted immediately under the look his Potions Professor shot him, deciding that, for the time being, it probably would be best if he remained quiet.

"I don’t know why." Willow admitted after thinking for a few moments. "All my reasons seem so silly now. I was afraid that you would be disappointed, mostly. And I didn’t want to give you anything else to worry about on top of all of the other worries you already had."

"You have never disappointed me." Snape stated, firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. "Not once. Not when I thought you were a squib and not now that I know you most certainly are not."

Willow blushed. Compliments were few and far between with her father. To hear him say that she had never been a disappointment to him was like a dream come true. In fact, she knew she had experienced dreams where exactly such a thing happened. And none of them had felt this good.

"Where have you learned from?"

"Ever the teacher, huh, dad?" Willow giggled. "I don’t know if you’re going to like that part, though."

"Just tell me." He replied, simply. "Nothing you say can be worse than what’s already happened tonight." A deadly glare shot Draco’s way stifled any other attempts the boy may have made to speak.

Or move.

In fact, he was beginning to debate breathing, even.

"Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though." She sighed, gently setting her own cup of tea on the table so that she could pick idly at her hands. "Did you realize, all those years ago, that the place you left your little girl to be raised on a Hellmouth? With a Hellmouth being a place of decidedly evil mystical convergences?"

"I. . . was aware. Yes. It seemed for the best. The Dark Lord couldn’t possibly find you amidst all of the energies that were stored here if he somehow caught wind that you even existed."

"I don’t know whether to slap you or laugh." Willow deadpanned. "You knew this was a Hellmouth and you decided that that was better than keeping me in your care, even with this Dark Lord guy running around?" She laughed, but it was bitter. "Father, dear, you don’t know a damn thing about Hellmouths, do you?"

"Albus said that it would be a good place to hide you."

Willow raised an eyebrow.

"Then I suppose it is *him* that I need to throttle? Did he tell you what a Hellmouth was? Did you read about it in a book? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Let me tell you what a Hellmouth is – from the point of view of someone that has lived it."

"A Hellmouth is literally what its name implies – a mouth of Hell. A gateway to Hell. Or to Hell dimensions. We never really figured out which. It attracts demons, vampires, ghouls and ghosts. All manner of weird, bad shit happens here. It’s a bad, bad place to live and the type of place where you don’t bother starting a 401k plan because you’ll never live long enough to use it."

"Attacks are rare. Albus said –"

"Attacks are rare?!?" She leapt to her feet in outrage. "Goddess! Do you know how naïve you sound? Attacks are rare." She laughed now, genuinely amused by the innocence of her father’s statement. He really thought he had put her in a safe place.

"Don’t tell me that attacks are rare, father." She snapped after a few moments of laughter, her amusement fading as anger replaced it. "I’ve lived through more than ‘rare’ would ever account for. I’ve helped thwart even more than that and I have no doubt in my mind that I will be stopping even more before the day I finally either die or get out of this place!"

"You. . . were attacked?"

"Tons of times." She smirked at the look of horror on his face. "Vampires. Demons. They seem to think I’m some sort of tasty treat."

"Sweet Merlin." Severus sighed, settling back into the chair he was in, his eyes closing as horrors of what could have been flitted through his brain. This was not a good thing. Not for her. Not for him. "Still," He continued after a moment. "That does not explain how you’ve been learning."

"Oh yeah." She blushed. "Totally forgot what the question was. Um. That Slayer friend of mine? Well her Watcher, Rupert Giles, has tons of books on the occult and magic and stuff. I read, I learn."

Severus stiffened. Rupert Giles? Surely it couldn’t be. . .

No. There was no way. She said this man was the Slayer’s Watcher. The Rupert Giles he was thinking of had been a Death Eater and would never willingly align himself with the supernatural savior of the Muggle world.

"Professor?"

"Dad?"

The Potions Master opened his eyes, blinking wearily at his student and his daughter, both of whom had moved to stand near his chair sometime between when he had closed his eyes initially and that moment. He frowned.

"You fell asleep, dad." Willow snorted. "Its been a long day, huh?"

"You could say that." Severus Snape frowned, his attention turning back to Draco as the boy shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"And I have a feeling it’s going to get much longer before it ends."

~*~Part Six: And Now What to Do~*~

They spoke late into the night, with Willow giving her father a run down on her life in Sunnydale and her father updating her on everything that had been going on in his world.

In detail.

Horrifying, awful details.

It chilled her to know that her father was placing himself in that kind of danger, willingly. That he went out a few times a month, participating in acts that would undoubtedly scar a lesser man. He placed himself in harms way all with the hopes of one day being able to bring down this evil Voldemort person.

And yet he still lived and was quite successful in his chosen field.

"You need to stop that." She murmured finally, shaking her head in consternation over his spying activities. She was pacing back and forth in front of his chair, her arms crossed, a petulant expression on her normally smiling face. "You cannot keep going out and placing yourself in harm’s way. I won’t allow it! In fact – I forbid it!"

Severus raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Last time I checked, I was still the adult in this relationship and you were still the child. You cannot forbid me to do anything."

"I could try. And I might succeed, you know. Bind you and hold you in the basement until all this blows over. . ." She whispered, stopping in her frantic pacing to look down at him. She collapsed at his feet, crying soundlessly. "You could get hurt, you know. Or die. Or --"

"Yes." He cut her off. "And how do you think it feels to be in my position and know that you have been risking your life in a place I thought to keep you safe in? That you have been doing so under my very nose for years? At least I was forthright in what I was doing. I never hid it from you."

"There’s no other way. " She protested quietly "No one else. . ." And then she stopped. "That’s your point, isn’t it? There’s no one else to do this except you. . .Just like I’m the only one that has been able to help Buffy."

He nodded once, slowly, dark eyes never leaving green ones.

"Exactly."

"You’re both nutters, you know that, right? Risking your lives for others and not an Auror between you. Like father like daughter."

Willow got a prime example in the flash of an eye exactly why her father was the most feared Professor currently teaching at Hogwarts.

"Mister Malfoy." He murmured with a deathly color to his silken voice. "I do not believe that either myself or my daughter has asked for your opinion in this or any other matter."

He stood, robes sorting themselves out automatically; the gesture seeming that much more dramatic and dark as he began to stalk towards the young man.

"Do not believe for one second that I have forgotten the position in which I found you when I arrived. Or how you came to be here in the first place!" He was screaming now, pale face red with anger.

"Yes sir." Draco’s voice was considerably meeker now. His silver eyes darted to Willow, begging for support.

"Daddy. Calm down, please. That scares me." She lied smoothly, grinning inside when he immediately calmed himself. "You’re tired. Draco’s tired. I’m tired. Can we sleep and deal with all of this in the morning?"

Good save, Draco’s eyes seemed to say; a slight smile curling the corner of his mouth as soon as the Potions master had turned to look at the witch.

"That might be best." He agreed after a moment’s deliberation. "May I use the fireplace to contact the Headmaster? He will need to know where we are."

"Of course you can, silly. My house is your house and all that. I’ll just show Draco to the guest room. You can use mom and dad’s room."

Severus nodded, pulling his wand and a small pouch of Floo powder from his pocket. He allowed them to make it almost to the stairs before calling out –

"If you even think of touching her again, Mister Malfoy, you will be very, very sorry."

~*~

She woke in the pre-morning light; sleep slowly falling away from her weary mind. There was something important. Something she had forgotten about the night before in all of the excitement. . .

"Damnit." She mumbled, remembering at last. She rubbed at her eyes to blink blearily at the clock. It was nearly six, and she was supposed to meet the others at Giles’ house at seven for research. She sighed, wondering when she was ever going to get a decent night’s sleep again.

She pulled herself wearily from the bed and grabbed a change of clothes. The house was quiet when she opened the door of her room, and she padded across the hall to the bathroom. Still half-asleep, the red head stepped under the warm spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the tired ache in her shoulders and neck. This was going to be a long morning and then later, when she spoke with her father and Draco again, it would become an equally long day.

A hastily scribbled note for her two houseguests and then she was off, walking through the morning light towards Giles’ house, hoping her weekend couldn’t get any worse than it already had begun.

~*~

Severus Snape was not pleased to wake up and find that his daughter was gone for the morning to ‘research’ a ‘problem’ that her and her friends were ‘working on’. She would be back later. He crumpled the piece of paper in his hand, frowning down at the countertop. She had forgotten one rather important thing about himself and Draco, though; he discovered in very short time.

They had no idea how to operate in the Muggle world.

This meant no coffee, no breakfast. He couldn’t very well summon a house elf from Hogwarts, though the idea was sorely tempting. He wasn’t even sure how to use that thing that he was almost one hundred percent sure was a shower, because when he stepped beneath it the water did not turn on like back in his own rooms at the school.

This was, to put it mildly, unacceptable.

The clock on the wall said that it was nearly nine thirty in the morning on this side of the globe. Back at Hogwarts the students would already be well into mid-afternoon. He wondered idly what kind of excuse the Headmaster had made for Draco’s disappearance. No one would notice himself being absent of course, not unless he failed to get this issue resolved by Monday morning, in which case Dumbledore would find someone to substitute his Potions class and there would be a new host of explanations made to cover his own disappearance.

Which would look considerably suspicious if Mister Malfoy was still gone at that time as well.

But that was neither here nor now and he was hungry and in need of coffee and a shower.

There really was only one thing to do, as much as it pained him to do so.

He had to find Willow.

"A simple locating charm should work." He mumbled, pulling out his wand and muttering the charm.

~*~

"Guys. . . There’s nothing in these books. You can’t stop an Ascension once it has started. This is hopeless. Or, as close to hopeless as it gets." Willow frowned, glaring at her fellow researchers. It seemed as if they had been searching for the same thing for weeks now – a way to stop the Ascension. Maybe it was time they just concentrated on what to do when the Ascension happened, because at this rate it was going to happen and there was not a damn thing they could do to stop it. "Can we just work on damage control now?"

Buffy looked up from her own musty tome, her eyes glazed with lack of sleep that Willow knew had much to do with too much time at the Bronze the night before. Xander looked as though he’d worn the clothes he slept in, which in his case was a fair assumption. Thankfully for him, and the rest of the group as well, Cordelia had been unable to make the early morning research session.

"You know, Will, you’re right." The Slayer sighed, dropping her book onto Giles’ coffee table. She glared at it for a moment, her own tired state of mind limiting her early morning prowess in the conversation department. "We’re wasting time trying to figure this part out when the dusty old books have no answers anyway."

The witch grinned. Now they were getting somewhere. Hopefully they could come up with a basic plan and she could leave soon. Draco and her father could be up and about already, and she really didn’t want to leave the two of them alone for any length of time until she was sure her father wasn’t going to kill the handsome blonde.

"So now we get to plot how to do some damage?" Xander piped up, his book following the path Buffy’s had taken.

"Damage?" Giles poked his head out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. "Did I hear you say you were going to damage something? Not my books, I hope."

"Well, G-Man, we took a vote and we’re not gonna do anymore reading about stopping this Ascension thing."

Buffy nodded.

"Let it come." She interjected, perking up to the idea. "We’ll just fix it afterwards by killing the Mayor-demon thingie. Too many words in moldy books this early in the morning makes my head hurt."

It was a good thing, Willow decided, that there was a knock on the door, forestalling any rebuke their surrogate father may have had for them regarding their decision.

As it was, she did hear a startled exclamation. A gasp of shock.

And then the sound of Giles’ coffee mug shattering on the floor as it fell from his numb hand, coffee and broken shards of ceramic scattering everywhere.

Turning her head she could see already the person that had knocked, though why he was standing there she wasn’t sure. Hadn’t it been his idea to keep this all a secret? Perhaps the term ‘secret’ meant something else in the wizarding world? A something else that involved telling everyone he possibly could?

"Severus. . ." Giles whispered, taking a step backwards.

"Rupert. I can’t say as how I am pleased to see you so. . . alive." Severus sneered, his eyes darting to his daughter. "I need to speak with you, Willow."

"I don’t think so Mister Tall-Dark-and-Ick!" Buffy growled, jumping up to stand between herself and the red head she called friend. Giles was still standing there as though the living personification of everything evil was standing in front of him and, as far as the Slayer was concerned, that was a good reason not to let him anywhere near her friends. "Go. Get away. We’re busy and don’t want any of what you’re selling."

She made a shooing motion at him, her blue eyes steely.

Willow sighed and stood up, pushing around in front of Buffy. She still wasn’t sure what was wrong with Giles, but if her father had risked leaving the house to find her something important must have come up.

"It’s okay, Buff. Really." She murmured, placing herself between the irritated Slayer and her father. She took a deep breath and gave her friends a weak smile.

"Guys. . . this is my biological father."

~*~Part Seven~*~

It was a shocker for them, Willow was well aware of that fact. Add to that the fact that her father was tall, dark, and relatively scary; none of that helped. Xander looked stunned. Buffy was speechless for one of the few times in her entire life. Her father looked angry and resigned to the fact that he had been forced to come over in the first place, all of their secrets being set out like items under a microscope.

Then there was Giles’ reaction to him.

Definitely not of the good.

He still hadn’t recovered enough to form coherent thoughts.

Willow sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

"Giles. . . could you quit staring at him like he’s some sort of. . . freak?"

The Watcher turned to her, seemingly unconscious of the fact that he had made a mess all over his floor, and blinked in confusion.

"This man is your father, you said?"

The red head nodded.

"Yup. Since the day I was born, apparently."

She heard a laugh that turned so quickly into a cough that she doubted anyone realized who it had come from. She turned her head in time to see her father’s smile fading to a smirk. He tilted his head to the side and she threw him a grin. So he appreciated her snarkiness?

How much the lovelier.

"But. . . You. . . Dark Lord. . ." Giles stammered, his face pale and drawn with the effort it was taking just to stand there.

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"I could say the same thing to you. . . dear ‘friend’."

Willow flinched. If she had known that her father and Giles had this kind of threatening history together, well she just would have tried harder to keep them very, very far apart.

As it was, she no longer had a choice and she was dreadfully curious.

"You two know each other, I take it?"

Xander snorted, muttering something under his breath, which she didn’t quite catch. She didn’t think it was polite, though; and so he was faced with one of the withering glares that Draco said made her look very much like her father’s child. . .

Before Giles or her father could speak, however, Buffy chose to interject her own thoughts in the mix.

"But. . . Wills . . . you don’t even look like him . . . I mean, red hair. . .black hair. . . I just don’t think that’s possible. . ."

Ah. The Glamourie. At least she had remembered to reset that before leaving the house this morning. It would have been much more shocking to her friends if she showed up with black hair after having been a red head the day before.

"Um – allow me to speak up." Xander sighed from across the room. He was troubled, Willow could tell. And she knew a good portion of that stemmed from the fact he had just found out that she had lied to him for their entire lives. It had been hard, and she longed to tell him that. But not right now. Later. "She doesn’t actually have naturally red hair." He continued quietly. "Big shock, I know. Our little Wills gets her color from a bottle. . . She’s been dying it since she was like. . . ten, I think? Maybe longer."

Willow nodded.

"Yup. Except I don’t use dye now. I use magic."

She released the Glamourie, shaking the black locks with an arched eyebrow.

"Wow." Buffy whispered, reaching out to touch a piece of the now black hair. One could almost see the possibilities flitting through her head. Her eyes lit up with a fierce joy. "Can you teach me that? The hair color thingie? I’ve always wanted to be a red head. Just for a day, you know."

"Buff – "

"Children – do you possibly think we could discuss my daughter’s fashion habits at a later date?"

Buffy hissed under her breath, drawing a laugh from Willow and a glare from the Potions Master.

"And this is the Slayer you spoke of?" He shook his head. "Amazing she has lived this long."

The young witch rolled her eyes.

"Did you come here for a reason or just to insult my friends?"

"There was a reason, yes. Insulting your friends was merely an added bonus to a morning already wrought with enjoyment."

Dark eyes slid to Giles, a sneer crossing lips that had spoken so soft and deadly-like the moment before.

"Again I ask – the two of you know each other?" Willow sighed, frustrated. Any second now she was going to snap and hex the Hell out of the two of them.

"Yes. Unfortunately." This came from Giles, provoking only a raised eyebrow from Severus.

"And here I thought you *cared*, Ripper."

Giles’ own face went deadly at the mention of that nickname, the one he had left behind so long ago. It was nothing but a reminder of a past he would have liked to erase completely from his life’s history.

But that wasn’t possible.

He had been forced to live with the mistakes he made every day of his life.

And here was a reminder of those mistakes, standing right in front of him in all his black-robed glory.

Black. . . robes. . .

"Sweet Merlin, Severus. Get out of the doorway in those things before the neighbors see. Overlooking demons is one thing, overlooking a man wearing robes is quite another, I assure you."

Willow watched, amused, as Giles ushered her father into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. The Watcher looked down at the mess on his floor with a sigh and a shake of his head. He knelt on the floor, picking up the shards of his mug carefully.

"And to think. . . you were top of our class. . ." Severus snorted, brandishing his wand. "Reparo."

Willow heard not only Buffy, but Giles as well, gasp as the coffee mug put itself back together. Another charm from her father and the floor was no longer wet with the remains of his drink. The raven-haired witch giggled.

And then it hit her.

"Top of your *class*?" She raised an eyebrow at her father, then Giles. "The two of you went to school together?"

"You’re a Watcher?" Buffy questioned, confusion clear on her face.

"I most certainly am *not*." Severus Snape growled, giving the petite blonde a look that would have set any of his students to quaking in their shoes. Not her, though. She didn’t back down, not one bit. Nor did she look scared. He gave a long-suffering sigh. There was no point in hiding. Not now. Not when the cat was so literally out of the bag. "I am a Potions Master. A teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"They have schools for that?" This time it was Xander asking the questions. "Wills – maybe you should go to one."

Oh yeah.

That earned the young witch her very own personal glare from her father. Like Buffy she met it head on, unflinching.

"I already said I was sorry. A few times." She snapped, glaring at her father. "Besides, this isn’t about me. This is about you, Mister. You come over here, scare the crap out of Giles for reasons I can’t yet figure out. . . "

"We went to school together." Her father interrupted. "He was in the same group as I was. . ."

"He . . .Oh. . Oh!" She turned, giving Giles a look that said very clearly what she thought of that revelation.

"That was a long time ago, Willow. Back when I was still friends with Ethan, whom you have already have the pleasure of meeting, remember? I have changed."

She nodded, still shocked.

"But. . . a Death Eater, Giles?"

"If it makes you feel better, Willow." Her father interrupted. "He wasn’t a very good one. Didn’t seem to take any pleasure from it. . . And then one day he was summoned for an audience with the Dark Lord. . . and never came back. .."

"Oh, do shut up, Sev." Giles glared. "As I recall you were one of the worst, were you not? Though you did do your killing from a distance, *Potions Master*. Didn’t like to get your hands dirty. How many people never made it through one of your dinner parties, hmm?"

Willow frowned at the two men engaging in a verbal battle in front of her. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Okay. Giles was a bad guy. Dad was a bad guy. Apparently neither of you are currently bad guys any longer. You can hash this all out together later – what did you come by for dad?"

Severus turned his glare from Giles to his daughter.

"You left me in *that place*, with all of those Muggle appliances."

Willow blinked, waiting a few moments to see if more was coming.

"And. . .? They attacked you? You broke one of them? What? I’m confused here. . ."

Severus shot her another glare that could have melted stone and stepped close enough that only she would be able to hear his confession.

"You seem to have forgotten that I am used to wizarding showers and house elves that bring me my coffee as soon as I have woken. I do not have the slightest idea how to use those infernal contraptions in your house."

He pulled back, black eyes sparkling.

Willow tried to hold it in.

She really did.

But the look on her father’s face was priceless, and the laughter would not be denied. It started with a giggle, then made its way to a laugh, and then a rolling guffaw; she clutched her sides, finally managing to gasp out.

"Giles – can you make dad a cup of coffee?"

~*~Part Eight: In Which Draco Finds Himself Awake~*~

Sunlight was pouring through what Draco had decided the night before were ‘quaint’ curtains, if not a little too flowery and, well, happy, for his tastes. He instinctively shut his eyes tighter, trying to delay as long as possible the act of waking. Even with his eyes firmly shut and sleep still holding tenuously to his consciousness, he was aware that it was not yet late enough for him to even think of waking up.

But the sunlight was not to be denied, dancing with warm, licking strokes across his face.

He groaned, almost more of a growl, and rolled over, putting his back to the infernal light. Even now it was still far too bright for him to succeed in recapturing that peaceful sleep he had been enjoying so well only moments before. This wasn’t going to be a good day, he could tell already.

Yawning, the blonde haired wizard sat up, stretching his arms up over his head. The muscles in his body were tight, tense; and he recalled all too well the events that had led them to being in that position. A portkey, a red head, and an all too furious Potions Master.

Draco looked down at himself with unveiled disgust. The clothes he had worn the night before were well rumpled, as he was sure his hair also was. This wouldn’t do at all. There was no way he was going to set one foot out of this room with rumpled clothes and hair that was, yes, sticking up in places. He frowned, looking at his wand on the bedside table.

It wasn’t as though anyone had forbidden him to use magic here.

Though, technically, it was against the Underage Wizarding Laws for him to use magic outside of Hogwarts at all.

To hell with it. Cleanliness was important. He still had a name to maintain, even if it was a tainted one like ‘Malfoy’.

He grabbed up the wand and eased open the door of the bedroom. From the night before he remembered that the bathroom was right across the hall. All he needed to do was make sure no one saw him between here and there. A shower and then some charms to his clothes and hair and he’d be fine.

For a while, at least; there was no substitute to a clean set of clothes, and he knew by the end of the day he’d feel well and truly grimy if he didn’t have a chance to change.

He listened, poking his head just outside of the door, for any telltale signs of movement.

But there was not a peep or rustle.

"Guess my luck has changed for the better." He muttered, slipping from the room and into the bathroom. He turned on the light using the little switch on the wall, thankful that Willow had shown him that trick the night before, otherwise he would have to use the shower in the dark, or by wandlight, and he really wasn’t in the mood for either.

He stripped out of the wrinkled clothes, tossing them by the door, and turned to the shower. It different from those at Hogwarts, he could tell that right away. For one, this thing looked to be used as both a shower and a bathtub. Quite odd, that. He stepped into the tub, shivering as his feet hit the cold ceramic bottom. Stepping under the shower head, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally he scowled up at the bit of metal, wondering where in the hell the warm water was. He fumbled outside of the shower curtain, grasping his wand.

Okay, so waving his wand at the shower wasn’t working, either.

He growled, muttering every obscure household charm he had ever learned.

And still the infernal contraption wouldn’t grace him with water.

He sighed, wishing he dared wake up Willow to assist him with whatever charms she had placed upon the shower. The thought of the red head, so early in the day, woke him up in more ways than the sunlight had been able to; and he felt his body heat up in response, begging for his attention. He had been so close, she had been so warm . . . if only her ‘father’ hadn’t shown up.

This time his sigh was one of pure sexual frustration.

Perhaps a bath would be in order since the shower was playing hard to get. The idea of relaxing in a bath of hot water, letting it ease his. . . tensions. . . was delicious, and he latched onto it for all he was worth. He reached for the knobs, thankful that this part, at least, was similar to that of Hogwarts. Though. . . the tubs at Hogwarts only had one knob for water, and then some smaller knobs for bubble bath. This bathtub had three large knobs. One with an arrow, one that had a little red dot in the center, and one with a blue dot in the center.

Well. . . he wanted water to come out. . . so the arrow was the likely choice. . .

At least, he hoped.

Turning the knob, the wizard waited for the water to come rushing out, cleansing his body.

But nothing happened.

A million nasty things concerning muggle devices and the muggles that used them went through his mind.

Okay.

Blue knob, then.

He turned it once, hard, and was rewarded with the oncoming sound of ---

"AAGGGHHH!"

He leapt from the bathtub, tripping in the shower curtain to fall firmly on his backside; his entire body covered in a fine spray of cold water that was even now dripping from his hair. He shivered, glancing down at his wet, cold body; and chuckling despite himself.

At least he no longer had that particular ‘tension’ to worry with this morning.

~*~

Willow took her father aside as Giles grudgingly trudged to the kitchen to fix the wizard a mug of coffee.

"Was Draco awake when you left?"

"No."

The young witch raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think its smart to leave him there by himself. . . I mean. . . if you didn’t know what you were doing. . . imagine how lost he is."

Severus Snape spared her a small, reassuring smile; despite the irritation he felt with this entire situation.

"Mister Malfoy will be perfectly fine at your house alone, Willow. I doubt he has even to wake yet."

"But –"

"Did you say ‘Malfoy’?" Giles murmured, and for the second time that morning a mug was broken as it hit the floor.

~*~

Clothed, though not clean, and with a simple charm on his hair to keep it from looking too ‘slept on’; Draco left the bathroom at last. He could still hear the pitter patter of the water pouring from what was surely a cursed shower; but he had neither the desire nor the courage to get near that thing again.

Ever.

Only when he reentered the hallway did Draco notice something that was at first odd, then startling.

Neither Willow nor Professor Snape were still in bed.

And there wasn’t a single other sound in the house.

He walked slowly down the stairs to the living room, wand in hand. He was alone, in this place?

No.

Professor Snape would never have left him alone. . . in a muggle house. . .

Would he?

The answer was clear when he stepped into the kitchen, eyes going immediately to the counter and the sheet of paper that had been left there for him to find.

~Draco,

Went to find Willow. Stay put.

Snape~

He had left him!

Draco growled and threw the note aside, glaring around the kitchen. His stomach rumbled, reminding him just how long it had been since he last ate. It was well past breakfast time back at Hogwarts. Images of pastries, muffins, and pitchers of cool pumpkin juice filled his mind.

But images can’t fill the stomach; and that bit of daydreaming left him no better off than he was before.

Cool silver eyes turned to the icebox. There had to be something in there that he could eat, at least until Snape came back with Willow. Then they could see about getting some real food. Maybe even get a house elf to come from Hogwarts to tend to them for the day? Or weekend? Or whatever it was to be; he didn’t really care to leave this place so soon after meeting the beauty he had gotten to know so well the night before.

Willow.

Snape’s daughter.

He smiled, despite himself, at the memory of their time together. Her tender touches, soft words that had helped to heal wounds within him that he had not even been aware of.

Draco reached for the handle on the icebox, pulling it open. No pumpkin juice. No juice, period, that he could tell. He frowned, reaching for a bottle of liquid.

"A soda drink," he read aloud from the label. Well. It did say ‘drink’, even if he wasn’t quite sure what soda was. Five minutes later he had found the glasses, in a cupboard near the back door. He poured a bit of the soda into the glass, sniffing at it delicately. ‘Fizzy’ was the first word that came to mind; little bubble rushing up to tickle his nose. He sneezed and glowered at the glass, unsure if he truly wanted to put something like this into his mouth or body.

Finally thirst won out over indecision, and he raised the glass to his lips. The first cool drop of the black-brown liquid hit his tongue, making him jump a little as the bubbles broke within his mouth. He swallowed, sighing aloud as the drought in his mouth was slowly eased.

"That wasn’t all bad." He murmured in appreciation, filing the fact away for later as he turned back towards the icebox.

Twenty minutes later he had pulled an assortment of items from the refrigerator, examining each one for their edibility. Yogurt, he had discovered, was not a good thing. Tart and tangy, just one dollop of it on his tongue made him gag and sputter. Either it had spoiled or was never good to begin with, he decided as an afterthought. There were a number of frozen items from the secondary side of the icebox. But none of these seemed to be edible in their current condition either, and he pushed aside the boxes with a grimace.

The eggs, it seemed, were the only thing halfway edible in the entire house.

And he didn’t have a single clue as to how to cook them.

Hadn’t he heard Hermione once comment on how her mother loved to be in the kitchen? Her muggle mother? How could she love a place like this? Where the food was frozen or otherwise disgusting?

There had to be somewhere in here to cook the eggs, though; he reasoned. Why else would Willow keep them in her house?

He pushed himself off of the stool and stalked around the kitchen, finally stopping before the large rectangular box of a machine that he had first dismissed as being yet another useless muggle invention. There were four circles on the surface of it, each with a top that reminded him somewhat of the burners they sometimes used in Advanced Potions. Was this the muggle cooking device he had been searching for?

A line of knobs at the back of the contraption brought Draco up short. His first experience with knobs that morning had not gone as planned in the slightest, and he was mildly hesitant to give it a second go.

But his stomach was growling and there was no telling when Snape would be back.

He reached for the one labeled ‘left-front’ and turned it to the setting marked ‘medium’. Almost immediately a little fire sprang to life from one of the front circles. He stared at it in a moment of awe. Perhaps this was not a muggle device, after all. The flame certainly had come from thin air. He had never spent much time in the kitchens of his Manor or the school, so this could very well be a wizarding appliance for all he knew.

That was a thought for another time, however. A time when he wasn’t hungry.

He turned back to the counter, pulling an egg from the box he had found them in; and then back to the fire he had created. His silvery eyes looked from the egg to the fire, then back to the egg. Well, that little burner-like thing in the center looked like it could hold the egg nicely. He dropped it gently into the center of the fire; watching with eager delight as the fire began to lick at the hard white shell, smoke pouring from around it.

Smoke.

Wait a minute.

Smoke wasn’t a good thing.

He reached for the egg, pulling his hand back at the last minute before his fingers touched the fire. The smoke was getting worse now, filling the air with a gray cloud that smelled of burning things. He coughed; peering through the smoke to the knobs he had turned the fire on with. It was too smoky, though, and he couldn’t see clearly. Reaching at random, Draco was horrified to see that he had turned on a second of the small burner-like circles.

"Merlin’s beard. . ." He sighed, reaching for his wand.

Then a horrible screeching, bell-like noise started going off. And he dropped his wand in a shock of fear, turning this way and that amidst the smoke; trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. Somewhere close, that was sure; but other than that he couldn’t determine.

"What in the hell . . .?" A female voice screeched. Draco blinked, smoke in his eyes, as a pair of hands pushed him out of the way. He heard two clicks and then the back door was thrown open, Willow fanning smoke outside and away from a tiny device on the ceiling that was beeping and flashing. The noise stopped, smoke dissipating. And the red haired witch was turning her glare from him to the Professor that stood in the doorway smirking.

"’Perfectly fine’, he says." Willow snorted, sharing a look with her father that Draco couldn’t fathom. She sniffed, turning back to the stove and Draco. Her face scrunched up in disgust. She took in the sight of the burnt remainder of the egg and sighed in frustration.

Today looked to be just as long as the day before had been.

If not worse.

~*~Part Nine~*~

"What do you think they’re going to decide?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at the red head that was seated just about as far from him as possible. The Professor had been downstairs speaking with the Headmaster via Floo for nearly two hours now. Two long hours of sitting in the same room with a woman he wanted to shag senseless and couldn’t because her father was downstairs deciding his fate even as he waited.

"Hopefully anything other than killing me outright." He sighed, dropping his face into his hands to avoid looking at her any longer. She didn’t realize the effect she had on him, of that he was sure. Otherwise he could only hope that she would cover herself with more clothing than that which she was wearing at the moment. He was surprised that her father hadn’t ordered her to don something more presentable than the tiny sundress she was wearing.

But he had not.

And so Draco suffered, the ache in his lower half growing each and every time she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. The dress would ride a little higher each time, baring more and more of the soft, tender flesh of her legs. He had been between those legs only the night before, prepared to exact pleasure upon her willing body.

He moaned softly at the memory, blushing when he realized what he had just done.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I’m not bloody ‘okay’." He growled, raising lust-filled eyes to her face. "You’re sitting over there, flashing yourself at me – and I can’t do anything about it because your father, *my* Potions Professor, is downstairs."

He hadn’t expected her to laugh at him.

So when it happened he was caught off guard completely.

"Poor horny Draco." She giggled. "Thwarted by the evil father-teacher-figure."

It wasn’t funny.

Alright, if it was anyone other than himself in the situation, he could possibly see where it may be amusing.

But that was not the case. This was his life and he found nothing funny about the throbbing ‘down there’ that he could not do a damn thing about. And, while it was true that he should have been scared out of his mind in this situation, with the prospect of an Obliviate lurking in his future, he couldn’t seem to get his mind off of those perfect white legs.

"This is most definitely not amusing." He told her firmly.

"Not to you, maybe. But it is to me."

Draco stood up; opening his mouth to tell her just how not funny the entire thing was, only to sit back down just as quickly as the door to her room opened.

"Get your things together, Willow. You will be coming back with the two of us to Hogwarts."

Draco watched as a world of emotions passed over her face; ending quite spectacularly with anger.

"No."

"No?" Professor Snape repeatedly slowly, as though he could not possibly have heard her correctly.

"That’s right. No. I can’t. Not until after graduation. You know what Buffy and the rest of us are up against. I can’t just abandon them at this point."

Draco nodded to himself. The Ascension. She had mentioned that the night before.

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Snape sighed. "Very well. Draco and I will be staying until after your graduation to assist with this insanity that you have placed yourself in – after which we will all go back to the safety of Hogwarts. My days as a spy are coming to an end and it will be imperative that we are all safely behind those walls as soon as possible."

~*~

Willow swallowed, scared. She had never heard her father sound as worried as he did at that moment. She licked her lips and questioned him quietly.

"What is it? What’s happened?"

The dark haired man looked down at her, his eyes dark with the struggle over whether or not to trouble her with whatever he knew. Being up front and honest won out, it seemed, for when he opened his mouth she felt her world fall out from beneath her.

"It seems that rumors have already gotten around that I am here, in the States. And that Draco is with me. Since as he is a traitor I am to have nothing to do with him. . . you can see where the trouble begins."

She nodded.

"But there’s something else, isn’t there?"

The Potions Master nodded, lips in a thin, tight smile.

"After speaking with me last night Dumbledore met with a high placing Ministry official to discuss the situation. To get permission to Obliviate Draco. Needless to say by this morning the news of my daughter was on the front page of the Prophet."

"Sweet Merlin." Draco muttered, shaking his head. "It was Fudge, wasn’t it?"

Severus Snape inclined his head in silent acknowledgement.

"He has gone too far this time." The Professor informed Draco. "And this may be enough to get him out of office . . . But the damage is already done."

"I’m in danger?" Willow whispered. She threw up her hands in frustration. "More danger? As if my life wasn’t already dangerous enough living on the freaking mouth of Hell."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father wince and knew that he was definitely feeling the guilt about putting her on a Hellmouth after everything that had happened in her life. Good. He should feel guilty. Maybe then he’d be a little less hard on Draco and a little more hard on himself.

"As much as it pains me to say it - I think it would be best if we all go back to Rupert’s house to assist with the planning."

Willow shook her head.

"No can do. Giles’ apartment is way too small for all of us – not to mention I want as much space between you and him as possible. The looks you guys were giving each other – sheesh. I’ve never seen two grown men act so childishly in my entire life."

"Our history goes a long ways back, Willow. There are very good reasons for us to act ‘childishly’, as you call it."

She shrugged and threw Draco a look that said she would explain it all later.

"That’s beside the point. Today we concentrate on the planning thing. Everyone can come over here with the musty old books."

Before her father could stop her she had lifted the phone and dialed Giles’ number.

"Hey – Buff. Yeah – all is good, though Draco was trying to burn down my house using an egg when I got back. Mmm hmm. Definitely a hottie. But – I called for a reason. Dad and Draco are going to help with the planning so I need you guys to come over here. . . Yeah, I know what you mean, they might kill each other if they don’t stay separated. Right. . . .Pizza? That sounds good – can you get some sodas on the way over. Tell Giles’ to bring his own tea. . . ."

~*~

Draco listened to the red haired witch babble on, his mind reeling with what his Professor had just told them.

He would be staying here, in this Muggle house, in a Muggle neighborhood until the Ascension was over?

"Professor – I’ll miss the Leaving Feast."

The look that Snape gave him was enough to make him shiver from the very depths of his being.

"Be lucky that you are still enrolled at Hogwarts, Mister Malfoy. If I had my way you would be expelled . . . or worse. Do not think for one moment that I have forgotten that this entire situation is your fault. If you had not been snooping through my things then you never would have come here, I never would have had to speak with the Headmaster, he would never have had to speak to Fudge and my cover would not be bloody well blown!"

Draco took a step back, eyes widening as the last of the words echoed through the room. Willow had gone silent and was watching the two of them with no small amount of fear on her own face and, though he knew she would try her best not to allow her father to hurt him, he couldn’t help but worry that her best might not be good enough against a fully enraged Severus Snape.

But Snape made no further move towards him, merely crossing his arms and regarding the terrified boy with a sneer that nearly made Draco’s heart freeze over.

"Gotta go, Buff. Bring chocolate – I’m gonna need it."

He heard the telltale sign of the phone beeping and assumed that meant that the thing was off. She had set it back on her nightstand, which was also a good indicator.

"You two – stop it!" She fumed, glaring between the two men. "Look, daddy. Draco did a bad, bad thing. And I’m sure he’s very sorry for it. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s done and cannot be taken back. We have to deal with what’s happened and move on or else none of us are going to be very safe from that Dark Lord guy or even each other."

Snape’s eyebrow rose and then fell, a sharp nod his only indication that he agreed with what she was saying.

"I have not hexed him yet and I do not plan on doing so." He said at last, eliciting a sigh of relief from both Draco and Willow. "Though I cannot say as how that will remain true if I ever catch him in the same position as he was in last night."

Draco heard a sharp intake of breath, turned in time to see Willow’s face go bright red and then it began.

"How *dare* you!" She screamed, eyes darkening. "This is my life. *Mine*. And if I want to fuck Draco then I damn well will. If I want to go fuck *any* guy, or girl for that matter, I will do so and you can’t stop me. I will be eighteen in a month – do you know what that means? I am an adult! And adults can do whatever they damn well please!"

It was the wind that she had conjured up in her moment of anger that was scaring Draco at that moment, not the deadly look on his Professor’s face; though that was scary in and of itself. He took a step back, then another, placing as much distance between himself and the familial pair as possible.

"Calm yourself at once." Snape growled, unperturbed by the mini-maelstrom she had created.

"Why should I? This is my house. My life. And here you are, coming to visit two or three times a year and suddenly you think you can tell me what to do and who *not* to ‘do’?" She snorted. "Get over yourself, dad. I grew up and you weren’t around to see it. Don’t flatter yourself by thinking you can be there for me now."

And with that she was gone, the door to her room slamming open and then shut without her so much as laying a finger on it.

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to will his own thumping heart back into submission. He risked a glance towards his Potions Professor and was surprised at the emotion he saw there. It chilled him to the bone, though not for the same reasons Snape’s glares usually did.

This was sadness that he saw. Regret unlike any he had witnessed before in his short life.

And it rattled him to his very core.

~*~Part Ten~*~

Draco wandered down from Willow’s room, his hand trailing lightly over the wooden banister of the stairs. Professor Snape was still up there, just standing in the center of her room like he had all of his dreams shattered in one foul moment. And maybe he had. Willow had not pulled any punches with the words she had used; they were meant to be hurtful and she had succeeded.

But had she meant to hurt him *that* much? Snape was one of the few Professors that had tried to be there for him before he turned on his parents. He had never revealed his true nature as a spy, but somehow he had still managed to give advice that slowly but surely led him away from the Dark. He hadn’t seen it at the time, of course, or he may very well have run straight to his father with the suspicions. But, now that he was older and ‘wiser’, he knew that Snape had been doing the best he could to make sure that Voldemort had one less supporter.

And for that he would forever be thankful to the older wizard.

So it was, with a small amount of sadness that he had to go find Willow and tell her that she had hurt her father. He didn’t want to alienate the pretty young witch, far from it, but he didn’t want to watch Snape get hurt by her words again, either. There had to be a happy medium somewhere in between where everyone could be happy.

Save of course for himself. He was going to be the ultimate loser in all of this, because Snape would never allow his darling daughter to date someone that had dabbled in the Dark for even a short amount of time. He wasn’t good enough for her, though Draco doubted that *any* man would ever be good enough for her – either in her eyes or those of her illustrious father.

"Willow?" He called out, reaching the bottom of the stairs. The living room was empty, but he could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. He moved in that direction just as her response came quietly from within.

"In here, Draco." The quiet murmur barely made it through the kitchen door. He wondered absently if she had shut that with just a thought, as she had done with her bedroom door earlier. Very impressive, if anyone thought to ask him, which they definitely would not be doing.

She was sitting at the counter in the center of the room when he walked in, her head down. It was turned to the side so that he could see her closed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

"Is he still up there?" she whispered.

"I somehow don’t think he’ll be leaving that room anytime soon. He was rooted to the spot when I left."

He saw her lips part in a sigh, the soft sound of the breath filling the silence that was threatening to stretch unendingly between them.

"I hurt him, didn’t I?"

"You could say that," Draco agreed.

Willow frowned, though as far as Draco could tell the expression was meant for herself and not for him.

"Way to go, Wills," she muttered sadly. "Fuck up the best familial relationship you’ve ever had. After all he’s gone through . . ."

Draco sat down next to her, rubbing absently at her back with one hand and propping his chin up on his other. What did you say in a moment like this, when you really believed that the person you had come to bond with royally screwed up? When you sided with the ‘opposition’?

"I should apologize."

Well, there now, she took the words right out of his mouth.

"If you feel that’s best." His response was a noncommittal as he could make it, though really he did agree with her. Apologizing would be the best thing. Though he sincerely doubted that Snape would accept the apology and move on. More like he would harbor the bitter despair she had sown, keeping it close to himself and dwelling on it in his every spare moment. That was just the type of man Professor Snape was.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything else, if indeed there was anything else to say, because she got up and left the room, then. The sound of her footsteps could be heard on the stairs, and then the opening and shutting of a door.

Hopefully things would go better than he expected.

~*~

"I’m sorry."

Severus arched an eyebrow at the girl – no, woman – standing before him.

"For what?"

"What I said," Willow gestured with a hand, nervous. "That whole thing. . . About you not being there. . . It was wrong of me."

"You only spoke the truth."

He watched as she winced and felt a small measure of pleasure at the unconscious gesture on her part.

"I didn’t mean for it to come out that way," she sighed. "I was just frustrated, daddy. Sheila and Ira haven’t been around in years. I’ve raised myself and dealt with things most people my age never have to even think about. Why would it be so bad for me to find happiness with Draco? He seems like a good guy."

"He is," Severus frowned. "But, however clichéd it may seem, he is still not good enough for you."

Willow giggled. "And will there ever be anyone that *is* good enough for me? Isn’t that the way things go. Fathers never approve of the men their little girls choose – at least that’s what I’ve seen on TV."

"Willow –"

"No, daddy." The witch shook her head. "I will always be your daughter – but I feel like Draco and I have this. . . connection. . . we’ve both been through some bad stuff and we’ve made it out okay. We share some common ground. It works, for me at least. And I think for him, too."

Severus stared into her green eyes, seeing for himself that she truly believed what she was saying. Denying her this could only end badly for himself. She was too strong-willed to do what he said on this matter; too much like her mother had been.

"I was merely going to say that you are right," he murmured, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I have not ‘been there for you’ for most of your life. I am trying now, though. If you wish to make a relationship with Mister Malfoy, then I will not stand in your way – except to say that I suggest you not take things hastily. You may feel a ‘connection’ to him, however I would hate to be the one hexing him when things do not work out between you two when you took things too far, too fast."

Willow blushed and stammered, "Yes, daddy. No making with the horizontal action for at least a month."

"Year."

"Month!" She glared, crossing her arms in a gesture that clearly said that he had very little say in this matter and for him to just be happy he was getting any type of concession from her.

"Very well." The Potions Master frowned, turning his eyes away from his daughter. "It is your life, after all."

"And yours!" she argued, sitting down next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders. "We’re going to be living together now. As in all family-like. My life is your life. Will I get a room near yours? I promise not to keep you up all night with loud music. Oh, hey, will my CD player still work there? I thought you said one time that electronic devices don’t really like the wards or whatever. . ."

Severus groaned silently, listening to his daughter ramble on; images of late nights spent listening to that infernally loud Muggle music he had been unlucky enough to hear on a few occasions flashing through his head. And shopping, she would want to go shopping of course – would *need* to go shopping if he hoped for her to fit into the wizarding world. Shopping, music, a daughter that was still, technically, a teenager. This was what being a parent meant, he knew, and he had always wanted to be a real father to her.

Too bad he was only now finding out exactly what that meant.

~*~ 11~*~

"We have been cleared for kissage."

Draco’s head lifted from the kitchen counter, the same spot she had left him in before going to talk to her father. His silvery eyes met hers with a spark of hope.

"I take it the talk with Professor Snape went well?"

Willow shrugged and gave him a smirk.

"We have an understanding. I’m not used to being someone’s daughter and he’s not used to being someone’s father. We’ll work on it from there."

A slow smile lit up Draco’s face and he reached out to grab hold of her hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it.

"So does this mean that you and I can sneak off somewhere together and . . ."

"Uh uh," Willow shook her head. "None of that. Promised daddy I’d be a good girl and wait a little while, get to know you even more so that he doesn’t end up having to kill you one day if you break my heart."

"That’s awfully. . . sporting of him. . ." It wasn’t clear by the tone of his voice whether Draco was amused or disturbed by this revelation and Willow chose not to care when he turned another smile her way.

"I can taste your sweet lips again, though. . .right?"

She giggled and nodded, melting inside when his lips met hers in a brief, warm kiss. It was everything the other night had been, on a smaller, less heated, scale.

"Severus!" A shout came from the living room. "Severus! Are you there?"

Willow nearly fell off of her stool in her haste to get to the living room. She stared in wonder at the disembodied head floating in the fireplace, surrounded by green wizard-flames that were just too eerie for words.

"Headmaster. I’ll get the Professor."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," the disembodied head smiled at someone over her shoulder. "And you, my dear," the Headmaster was saying, turning his attention to her. "You must be Severus’ daughter. I have heard so much about you."

"Good stuff, I hope," she prompted, still quite awestruck by the situation. She certainly hadn’t read about this in any of the books on magic that she had read.

"Yes, quite good I should say. I am looking forward to meeting you – Oh! Severus! There you are. We need to talk."

Willow turned in time to see her father give one sharp nod of his head, dark eyes flying to both herself and Draco.

"We’ll go upstairs," Willow offered, giving him her best innocent smile when he gave her a look that clearly was meant to serve as a reminder of their ‘agreement’.

As if she would be forgetting it anytime soon.

Thirty days and counting.

~*~

Thirty minutes later Willow found herself again in her living room, listening as her father explained the situation.

"They believe that Voldemort may be on the move and, as such, Aurors will be coming to set up some wards around the house."

"Wards? Around my house?" Willow frowned. "They’ll dress normal, right? I don’t want the neighbors seeing anything odd."

"I assume they will blend in perfectly," the answer came from her father though, what was that? A flicker of doubt in his eyes? If she had to guess she would say he doubted they’d be dressed in anything other than wizarding robes. Great. The neighbors were going to get an eyeful.

"Will we be safe even with the wards?" It was Draco’s turn to speak up, and Willow heard that confident voice waver with an emotion she could pinpoint as fear. "If You-Know-Who comes . . ."

"Then we shall deal with it," Severus replied evenly. Willow supposed that was meant to sound like reassurance, though it didn’t even remotely resemble it to her ears. To Draco, though, it seemed to make a world of difference.

The doorbell rang then, shattering them from the moment of fear and so-called reassurance. She sighed and crossed the room, peering out the peephole.

"Hey!" She swung the door wide, giving Buffy and Xander a big smile. "Come in! You brought chocolate?"

"Three kinds," Buffy snickered. "Chocolate ice cream, chocolate cookies, and the ever favorite chocolate bars – Xander has the chocolate milk. What --?" She grinned. "You said to bring *lots* of chocolate."

"And as the Wills asks, so shall she receive," Xander grinned, a bit too cheerfully. There was a forced happiness in his eyes when he looked at her.

"I’m sorry I never told you, Xan," the young witch sighed, taking the bag of chocolate milk from him. "It was for my safety and yours and everyone’s. . ."

"It’s okay. . . really," he protested with a shake of his head. "I’ll get over it. I just thought we were closer than that."

He took the bag back from her, wandering off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Want me to curse him?"

Willow frowned at Draco.

"There will be no cursing of Xander. . . this is my fault, after all. He’s right – we were closer than close. The bestest of friends. And I never told him."

Severus frowned and slipped past the group and into the kitchen. The boy was sitting there, at the counter, just staring off into space.

"She would have been killed if anyone found out. You do realize that, don’t you? They would have killed her simply because she is my daughter. Because she was being raised away from the life everyone assumed I was leading."

Xander didn’t even look up, his eyes fixed on the countertop.

"I meant what I said to her, really," he said after a moment’s silence. "I’m not that upset about the secret keeping . . . "

"Then why are you making her miserable with your antics, boy?"

The dark haired youth winced and met Severus’ eyes. The Potions Master could see within them an age he hadn’t reckoned on in one so young. They had been through Hell here, literally – their childhoods were over and now they were faced with an adult life that was more of the same – fighting and striving for the greater good.

"She’s going to leave, isn’t she? That Draco guy – she likes him. I can tell by the way she talked about him earlier. She’ll follow him back to wherever you guys are from. I’m upset because of that. Because I will miss her."

Severus shut his mouth with a snap, neither confirming nor denying what was being asked, implied. Willow had not told her friends yet that she would be going. And, despite the pain he saw on the face of this one, it was not his place to do so.

"She will make the choices she needs to make," he murmured in sympathy.

He turned, leaving the kitchen before anything else could be said, before Draco could walk in and see him behaving with anything similar to compassion.

There would be enough to deal with when he got back to Hogwarts, being accused of being a likeable human being didn’t need to be one of them.

~*~

"So – the plan is to lure the big Mayor-demon into the school and then blow up the school, and demon, all in one shot?" Xander reiterated with raised eyebrows. "And this was your idea, Willow? I like. I like it a lot!"

She giggled, patting Xander on the arm.

"I knew you’d enjoy anything that involved the destruction of the school."

"There will be no school destruction," Severus frowned, glancing at Giles as if to say ‘you condone this?’

"How else do you expect us to kill this thing? Explosion and mass destruction is the best way to go, really."

"I have to agree on this point, Severus," Giles murmured quietly, meeting the other man’s eyes with the eyes of a teacher about to give a lecture. "The demon formed during a successful Ascension is very large and extremely difficult to kill. Even with all of her super strength Buffy won’t be much of a match against it."

"Yes, but destroying the school? Is that type of thing not frowned upon here?"

Willow shrugged, giving her father a patronizing look. "Don’t worry. They’ll say it was a gas leak or something. We won’t be blamed."

"Bloody brilliant," Draco murmured, his smile wilting under the glare that his Professor threw at him. Yes, permission had been given. No, that did not mean that things were warm and cozy between him and the redoubtable Potions Master.

"Again I say that there will be no destroying the school," Severus sighed. "I will portkey back to Hogwarts tomorrow and speak with the Headmaster. Perhaps we can find some reinforcements for that day. A handful of well-trained Aurors should be able to dispatch the creature."

"And Obliviate the entire Muggle crowd," Draco muttered in a voice only Willow could hear. She snorted, holding a hand to her mouth to prevent the laugh from escaping. She found her eyes caught in Draco’s, the desire to kiss and be held nearly overwhelming.

"Wills. .. ." Xander interrupted the moment, shaking her arm. His eyes were glued to the window and whatever was happening on the lawn. "Why are there men in dresses waving little sticks at your house?"

~*~UV: Part Twelve: In Which Help Comes. . .Sort Of~*~

With the aid of a portkey Severus found himself back at Hogwarts, striding through the halls of the school. The few students he saw along the way cowered and lowered their eyes.

It felt good to be back, he decided, even if it was only for an hour or two.

The stone gargoyle of the Headmaster’s office swung aside when he muttered the password and he took the stairs two at a time, anxious to speak with the man within the office and then get back to his daughter. Something within him was screaming that an event no one expected would be happening very soon.

And he doubted it would be anything good.

"Severus. Is everything well in Sunnydale?" the Headmaster greeted him immediately. "The Aurors did show up to place the wards, correct."

The Potions Master rolled his eyes.

"Bloody fools, waving their wands like first years, in their robes nonetheless, in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood in broad daylight. I felt like hexing each and every one of them."

"You did not – correct?"

Severus nearly snorted with amusement. Such was his reputation that the Headmaster feared for the safety of those idiots?

"No. They are still relatively curse free, I fear."

"Good, good." Dumbledore nodded. "Well, then. What brings you back? I thought we had agreed that you would be staying there until after your daughter’s crisis had come to an end."

"I neglected to mention at the time that her crisis is apparently an Ascension."

"An – Oh dear. . ." The Headmaster’s eyes were wide, all twinkling gone from them. "That is bad. Especially in light of the news I just received. It appears that Voldemort has been spotted in the States, on a definite path towards the West Coast."

"Why is he not just apparating in? That would attract less attention."

Dumbledore shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Though I believe it has something to do with his power, or lack thereof. Apparating any great distance would severely weaken him, and at this time that could prove fatal."

Severus nodded. This was all very true and he had to agree with the Headmaster’s assessment of the situation. If Voldemort were to try to apparate that far it could prove fatal to him – and that was something the Dark Lord definitely was not willing to risk at this stage of the game.

"It is the Ascension that brought me here, Headmaster. They will be horribly outnumbered, even with myself and Draco on their side. We would be most appreciative if some Aurors could be sent to assist with the situation."

"I will look into it and get back to you as soon as I have any information," Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "You will need assistance anyway, if Voldemort is on his way to Sunnydale."

Severus stood. "I should be getting back before those reckless teenagers make plans to blow up the entire town."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, watching as his Potions Master strode from the room.

What was that about blowing up the town?

~*~

"He’s gone, you know. We could . . ."

Willow shook her head, giving Draco a playful glare.

"There will be no making with the horizontal tango while my father is away. I promised him we’d be good girls and boys and that’s exactly what we’re going to do."

Draco pouted, his lower lip sticking out in a manner Willow knew was meant to be seductive.

"That won’t work," she stated firmly, turning away from the look with a smirk. "Besides, Xander and Buffy are here. And Giles will be back at any moment. That would be just, well, ick!"

The blonde haired wizard chuckled, drawing the witch into his arms. They kissed slowly, gently, their lips working at each other’s mouths with delicate pressure, as if they were both afraid that the other would break with too much passion. Though the only thing there was to break was willpower.

They broke away with reluctance, the sound of Buffy’s voice breaking through their lust induced euphoria.

"I still need to tell them, you know. About leaving and all that. I just don’t know how to say it."

"You’ll find a way," Draco assured her. "Or you can always just pack up and owl them a week later, once you’re at Hogwarts."

The witch frowned, slapping his arm lightly. "Every now and then you open your mouth and say the worst things, Draco."

He chuckled, grabbing her lips for another kiss.

"And to think, I’ve gotten better as I ‘grew up’. I used to say awful things all the time."

~*~

The response from Dumbledore was not what Severus had anticipated. He sat, glaring at the fire, waiting for the promised ‘help’ to appear on the doorstep. How on earth had this been allowed to happen?

Oh yes, it was Fudge’s fault.

That idiotic, imbecile of a Minister of Magic. Stupid oaf! He wouldn’t send Aurors to help with the Ascension because, as usual, he didn’t think anything of the sort was happening. He also didn’t believe that Voldemort was in the States, despite the fact that that Daily Prophet was reporting it in both its morning and evening editions.

Stupid, stupid man!

And now he was stuck with second rate help. A type of help that he truly believed they would almost be better off without. Whatever had possessed Dumbledore to do such a thing he wasn’t sure. It certainly seemed like the type of crackpot idea that the old man would come up with; yet it was still hard to believe.

The doorbell rang, and Severus looked up, sighing wearily. Draco and Willow were upstairs doing Merlin knew what, the others had gone. That left just him to greet their new arrivals.

Arrivals he would have loved to send merrily packing the moment he opened the door.

"Hey, Professor," Harry Potter grinned, shifting from foot to foot, a small mass of seventh year Gryffindors behind him. "The Heamaster sent us to help out?"

Things could only go up from here.

At least, Severus hoped.

~*~Part Thirteen~*~

The Rosenberg household was in an uproar. Partially because of the fact that there were about a dozen additional people trying to find a place to rest – and partially because no one had bothered to warn Draco about who would be arriving.

And then there was the third reason.

Harry Potter was hitting on Willow.

Severus watched as the impetuous Gryffindor once again made a pass at the rather oblivious black haired girl. She shrugged him off, giving him a glare that easily rivaled the worst he had received in Potions class, if Severus was any judge. He hid a smirk and turned back to the papers in front of him – end of the year essays written by his sixth year students. It seemed that a good majority of them had actually managed to learn something during their first and sixth years, his ability to give most of them failing marks was going to be somewhat diminished.

He sighed, shaking his head. It was an unfortunate eventuality that his students would eventually retain enough information to pass his classes, but that day always hit him hard. This particular set that he was grading would be seventh years when the new term started – and then they would be out in the wide world. He could only hope that during years of constant ‘torture’ in his class they had somehow managed to achieve the life skills they would need.

~*~

"So. . .you’re Snape’s daughter?"

Willow rolled her eyes at the inane question, having heard it now from every visitor in her house – and from this boy alone twice now. She didn’t know who he thought he was, but she had already formed her own opinion anyway.

Harry Potter was a twit.

"Yes. And he is *Professor* Snape to you."

Harry grinned. "That must be pretty neat. Having him for a dad and all."

The ebony haired witch raised one eyebrow at him. Was her entire life nothing more than a source of entertainment to this cretin? She stood, flashing him what she hoped at least looked like a sincere smile.

"If you’ll excuse me? I need to ask my boyfriend something. You remember him, don’t you? Draco?"

She turned, missing the look on Harry’s face, though she was sure it was something remarkably akin to a fish. The two boys did not get along. Scratch that – Draco and the rest of the students that had invaded her home did not get along. At all. They seemed to have some sort of rivalry going on that she was on the outside of. Just as well. She hated petty fighting, though Harry did appear to need to be taken down a notch or two. He was far too full of himself for his own good – something that could very well get him killed at the Ascension if he wasn’t careful.

She found Draco sitting upstairs, in her room on the balcony. Just looking out at the quiet streets of Sunnydale. The look on his face was pure concentration, and something else that she was almost afraid of – something haunted.

"What’s wrong?"

He turned to look at her slowly, silvery eyes dull and distant. "You father wants me to teach you some hexes and curses. Things that will help you at Graduation."

Willow smiled. "That sounds great. . . right? Isn’t that great? Why aren’t you happy about that, Draco?"

The young man shrugged, turning back to stare out into the street. "Just brings back bad memories. Most of these are things I learned from my parents."

"Ah." She knelt down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I’m sorry, Draco. Want me to tell daddy that he needs to teach them to me himself?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I need to face these memories eventually. . . best now instead of later."

Willow nodded, but wisely didn’t say anything further. She wrapped an arm around his waist, her hand coming to rest on his thigh with a gentle squeeze. For the moment they could be just any other teenagers, staring out into the world and wondering what the future would bring.

Until the uproar began downstairs, that is.

~*~

Severus could not believe the nerve of Harry Potter, spouting off at the mouth about Draco and Willow’s relationship to the rest of the Gryffindor students. He had taken it just about as long as he could before standing up and fixing the Golden Boy with a look that he wished would shut him up for all time.

"Mister Potter. Last time I checked it was none of your business who either Mister Malfoy or my daughter dated. This includes whether or not they are dating each other, as well, if I am not mistaken."

It was a good little speech, one that he was proud of and would have expounded upon further if the pain hadn’t begun. He doubled over, clutching at his left forearm, gasping for breath between shooting stabs of burning pain. Voldemort was near. There was no other excuse for it. He was very close, within city limits, if not within a couple of miles of this very house. He sank to his knees, cursing whatever gods decided to hit him with this now, in front of his students.

The last thing he heard was Willow’s frantic voice as she pounded down the stairs. . the worried murmurs of the Gryffindors providing a lulling background noise.

And then. . . nothing.

~*~

The traitor would be writhing in agony now.

Squirming about.

Eager for release.

There would be no release coming for him, though.

None at all.

Soon he would die – just like all of the others who had dared to cross him. He would end up on his back, eyes staring lifelessly up at a sky he would never again see.

Soon.

But first. . .

A visit to the town’s Mayor was in order.

There were truces to be made, agreements to be forged.

~*~Part Fourteen~*~

"If he comes near you one more time I swear I will hex him."

Willow stifled a giggle, discreetly looking over her shoulder to note that, yes, Harry was still lurking.

"He just doesn’t take a hint, does he?"

Draco growled under his breath, not bothering to hide his immense displeasure with the dark haired young man. "He’s used to having girls fall all over him – must be quite a hardship for him to find out that you won’t be doing that."

The witch snorted, rolling her eyes. "Falling all over him. Why? I mean – he’s handsome, sure. But not really that much so. You’re much better looking."

"Promise?" Draco pouted, sticking out his lower lip in a truly petulant manner and causing his girlfriend to snicker.

"I swear." She assured him with an impish grin. "You would do better to worry about me running off with that Weasley boy – he certainly is a looker – and you know I have a thing for red hair."

"Weasel?!?" Draco screeched. "You’re joking, right? Tell me your’re joking?"

"I’m joking." Her laughter rang out through the backyard, disturbing a group of anxious-looking students that were practicing their defensive spells in one corner, under a shade tree. "You know you’re the only wizard for me, Draco Malfoy. After everything we’ve been through – you know, getting caught by my dad and all – do you really think I’d turn to anyone else?"

Draco snorted and nodded in agreement, pulling her into his arms and just holding her; trying to will away the thought of what would happen the next day.

Graduation.

~*~

"Harry – staring at her like that isn’t going to change anything."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione’s smug tone but didn’t turn from his Willow-watching. She was an enigma to him. A woman that wanted nothing to do with his power or fame. She would rather have Draco Malfoy – a pariah in respectable society.

Then again, the same thing could be said about her father.

"Yeah, mate. She’s off limits. Snape’ll have your head if you even think about going anywhere near her. He’s already on the warpath because of Dumbledore sending us to help."

This time Harry did sigh and turn away. Ron was right. Luring Willow from Draco would never work for that reason and that reason alone – she was Professor Snape’s daughter.

"It’s just. . ." He paused, unable to put into words what he was feeling inside of him.

"You’re being a spoiled brat, Harry." Hermione frowned, crossing her arms in displeasure. "For once there’s a girl that doesn’t want you and you can’t stand it. Well – get over it. And I mean that. We have a bigger situation on our hands than your lack of ability when it comes to Willow. Or did you forget that the Ascension is tomorrow? Tomorrow afternoon, even? In less than twenty-four hours?"

Harry felt anger, then shame wash over him. She was right, as usual. Here he was bemoaning the fact that Malfoy was with a girl that wouldn’t give *him* the time of day and there was a demon set to be freed tomorrow at lunchtime.

"Right, then." He sighed, gesturing to the book of spells Hermione had open. "Let’s get on with it, shall we?"

~*~

Severus could see them all in the backyard, practicing as much as was possible with the thin anti-notice wards they had placed around the house. The Slayer, Rupert and Xander would be over soon. And then they would get down to the final intricacies of what would happen tomorrow.

It was a plan that seemed foolproof, though he had been in enough battles to know that nothing was as such when it came down to being time to put things into action. Various members of the student body had been enlisted, in one way or another, to carry vital weapons under their robes during the ceremony. Taking place during an eclipse, the Ascension would no doubt be overrun by vampires and the ilk as well. It would be a feeding fest for both them and the newly awakened demon that would erupt from the Mayor’s once mortal form.

Severus shuddered, closing his eyes at the image that particular thought brought to his head.

Those students would be charged with slaying the vampires while he, his students, his daughter and her friends dealt with the demon.

It seemed almost too simple. One group does one thing – the other does another; and hopefully, in the end, everything worked out for the better.

Well . . . he was praying, anyway.

But would prayer really help when it came time to kill a demon?

At least he had managed to get them to give up the notion of blowing up their school, which he felt stemmed more from four years of frustration within its walls than to actual necessity.

After all –

How big could this demon really be?

~*~

"So we have a deal, then?"

Mayor Wilkins kept a firm smile on his face, his eyes burning a hole into the spot where he ‘thought’ his visitor’s eyes would be, if there wasn’t a hood up to hide them.

"We most definitely do, Mister Voldemort."

When their hands met for a formal shake, a sealing of the deal, the Mayor had a fleeting glimpse of something awful, more horrible than even he could imagine, lurking beneath the cloak.

But that didn’t matter. This man claimed he could keep any troublemakers at bay during the transformation – and he would hold him to that. Why else would he have come here, made this offer? He wanted to be on the winning side when everything was said and done.

There was no harm in letting him *think* that that’s exactly what would happen.

~*~

Being part snake himself, Voldemort was quite aware of when someone was acting, well, snake-like to him.

And that was exactly what the Mayor was doing.

That was all well and good.

Let him believe that he was there to make things go smoother, to ease the bumps in the road of his Ascension.

When the time came he would wreak havoc on this little town, tear open its Mouth of Hell, and rise again to the power that he had been privy to before the brat known as Harry Potter came into existence.

Tomorrow would be the beginning. . . of the end.

~*~

"He’s here."

Hermione looked worriedly from Ron to Harry, noting that his scar was not only hurting him, but actually bleeding this time.

"He must be quite close." She muttered, her face set into a worried scowl. "Come on – we need to tell Snape."

"Why?" Harry sighed. "I’m sure he already knows. Not like he doesn’t have his own early warning system."

It was left unspoken that Harry just wasn’t feeling very helpful after a day of watching Willow and Draco together, either.

"Either you come with me right now – or I’ll tell him myself. We cannot assume that he knows."

The ebon-haired young man tried to glare, winced in pain, and finally conceded to her wishes, rising from the ground to follow her into the house.

There was no use arguing with Hermione – she usually won anyway.

~*~

"I’m scared."

"Don’t be. I will *not* let anything happen to you tomorrow."

Willow smiled as best she could and closed her eyes, leaning in to kiss Draco; hiding her fear behind passion.

Even with a bodyguard like him on her side, she didn’t know if everything would be okay come tomorrow night. At the very least she’d be leaving her home and her friends. . .

At the worst she, or some of those friends, could be very, very dead.

~*~Part Fifteen~*~

The day had come, and the tension levels in the Rosenberg house were through the roof.

It was amazing, looking back, that no one ended up cursed by another member of their ‘crack team’ of wizards and witches, Slayers and students.

Harry finally saw reason, after a good night spent with Hermione telling him how stupid he was – and then a snogfest worth of the one that Severus Snape had walked in on his daughter and Draco having. Rumor would get around school later that they were an item, having realized their true feelings for each other in a ‘moment of crisis’.

It made Willow laugh, personally; and filled her with a sense of relief that she didn’t need to worry about the proclaimed ‘Golden Boy’ making goo goo eyes at her anymore.

They filed out of the house in small groups, the students of Hogwarts dressed in Muggle clothing that would allow them to blend in all the better with the parents and friends that would be in attendance at the day’s festivities. They would look like any other attendee.

Except for one small thing –

They knew this wasn’t to be a day of happiness. It was inevitable that one or more people would die – bystanders, students, staff. There was no way to be sure at this stage of the game. But it would happen, as it always did in combat. The innocent would die so that the righteous could overcome the evil that was trying to infest the world.

Sad, but true.

It was the way of the world, after all – the strong overcoming the weak.

Willow hoped they would be the strong that day. The reverse would be too horrible to imagine. She shuddered to think what kind of atrocities the Mayor, in his demon guise, would lavish upon the Hellmouth and the unwary citizens that lived upon it.

And when the Hellmouth became devoid of life? Swallowed up by greed and darkness?

What would happen to the world then?

No – failure wasn’t an option today or any day.

She watched the last of the Hogwarts students leave the house, a glob of fear filling her chest. They had come to help.

‘Sweet Goddess, protect them – they only came to help us in our time of need,’ she prayed silently, closing her eyes to the scene of their departing backs. If luck and fate were on their side, they would gather tonight in her home for a graduation/celebration party the likes of which Sunnydale had never seen before.

She didn’t want to think about the reverse – about how it would feel to mourn those they lost.

"I promised you it would be okay," Draco murmured into her ear, his strong hands coming down on her shoulders. "And it will be."

She nodded, swallowing that lump of fear back into her stomach.

Now it was time for her to go. For Buffy, herself, and Xander to complete that rite which is assigned to all American students.

"Hey – listen to what blondie said, Wills. We’re gonna get through this a-ok." Buffy grinned, slinging her arm around Willow’s waist and pulling the again red-head out of the door. "You got your speech?"

"Right here." She patted her pocket, her Valedictorian speech tucked safely away. Would she even get to make that most important of all speeches? The anxiety she had over speaking in public reared its tiny little head with a ‘hope not’ in response to that silent question.

She smiled, gesturing to her dad and Draco to come along.

It was time.

~*~

They weren’t prepared for the Mayor’s true form, as it appeared when the sun reached its eclipse. The sheer size of the demon was beyond anything they could have thought of. Surely this was some sort of cosmic joke.

~*~

"Willow!" Draco lobbed a curse at an approaching vampire, watching it go up in flames before his eyes. Nearly fifty yards away his girlfriend was fighting, hand to hand, with another vampire. It chilled his heart. They were moving so much; he couldn’t get a good, clear shot without running the risk of hitting her.

He started through the masses, weaving his way in and out of screaming bystanders – trying to get to her in time.

~*~

"Now do you think that blowing up the school was overkill?" Buffy screeched above the screams, her ire directed at her best friend’s father. "Huh, Mister Smarty-Pants? How in the Hell do you think we’re going to kill *that* thing?"

Severus spared the annoying blonde a glare before aiming his wand again at the demon as it picked another student from the ground, swallowing them with a sickening crunch. Not one of his, he noted with detachment; not a Hogwarts student.

He fought on, unsure what ‘in the Hell’ they were going to do at all.

~*~

Harry’s scar was bleeding, dripping in thick red lines down his forehead, straight down to his nose where it pooled and dripped off the end. There were smudges of it on his glasses and he was having difficulty seeing.

"He’s here. Somewhere. Voldemort." The Boy Who Lived hissed, glaring around. He caught sight of Willow, struggling hand-to-hand against a vampire. "Ron! Go help her!"

The red head glanced in the direction Harry was pointing and nodded, taking off through the crowd. Where the hell was Draco?

"He must be close by. . ." Hermione muttered, her keen eyes glancing this way and that, worry dotting her brow.

"He could be right behind you."

The two teens stilled, their hearts thudding dully in their chests as their mouths suddenly went bone dry. Hermione shut her eyes, a prayer coming silently to her lips. Voldemort was behind them – it was as simple as that.

It all happened so fast after that.

Harry pulled on Hermione’s hand, yanking her to the ground as the first ‘Avada’ was shouted, the green light of the curse hurtling over their heads, slamming right into a helpless Muggle parent, who fell like a leaf to the ground. They rolled away, disappearing into the crowd.

"Where is he?" Hermione hissed, looking out from behind a pillar. There were no telltale signs of green flying through the air – just the normal hex colors of yellows and reds.

"I don’t know," Harry murmured quietly, his heart pounding heavily in his throat. "But, wherever he is, we can’t just hide and wait for him to go away."

She nodded, allowing herself to be pulled back out into the fray. Voldemort was somewhere nearby – and they needed to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else.

Ever.

~*~

Willow struggled against the vampire, her wrists numb from the effort, chafed beyond pain. She was panting too hard to even think of uttering a spell – even if she could remember one that wouldn’t hurt both her and the vampire at such close range.

"Get off of her!"

There was a flash of red hair, and then the vampire was off. She watched as the red haired boy that had come with Harry and the others – what had Draco called him again? – pounded the creature with his fists.

"Move!" She ordered, drawing a stake from her pocket. The young man moved and she jabbed the sharpened bit of wood down, ending the vampire’s life with a flash of dust in the air. "Thank you."

"Over there – look!" Draco was at her side now, panting slightly. His robe was torn, and he had a scratch across his cheek.

Willow glanced, unthinking, in the direction he was pointing, her heart freezing at the sight. Her father, and Buffy and Giles, facing off with the demon. They stood *no* chance.

It was then that inspiration struck.

"Draco – Ron, go get the others from your school and circle the school. When you see my flare I want all of you to cast the strongest explosion type spell you know – at the school. Tell my dad, too."

She turned, running off a couple steps before stopping to blow Draco a kiss.

"I love you."

~*~

She held Buffy’s hand as they ran through the school, the snake-y demon-y Mayor-thing chasing after them.

"We’re gonna do it anyway, huh?" Buffy panted, daring a glance over her shoulder. Yep – demon was still there.

And gaining.

"Yup."

They made it to the library, diving one by one through the window, hitting the ground at a run as Willow sent a magical flare into the sky.

~*~

"Sweet Merlin." Severus moaned, watching the smoldering mass of the high school, bits of debris still flaming on the street where emergency crews were already racing to tend the wounded.

He looked around, dark eyes blank with horror. This was his daughter’s life. The Hell she had been forced to endure for years.

And he hadn’t lost any students.

Not a one.

He –

"Sir?"

It was the sound of the voice that told him he wasn’t going to like what was going to be said. He turned, pasting his best sneer on his face when his eyes met Potter’s.

"It’s Jasmine, sir. . .Voldemort was here. . . she hit him once, real good, but. . ."

Severus nodded, holding up a hand to forestall what came next. Voldemort got away.

And Jasmine died.

Such was battle.

He heard his daughter before he saw her through the smoke, an arm draped around Draco’s waist for support.

Without thinking he moved towards her, enveloping her in his arms, allowing himself some relief that it wasn’t *her* that had passed on.

For once he allowed himself not to care what the Hogwarts’ students might think of him.

And it felt good.

~*~Part Sixteen: All Good Things. . . ~*~

She had graduated.

The world had not come to a fiery, demonic end.

And the school had been quite thoroughly demolished.

All in all, Willow had to admit that the week had been quite eventful so far.

"You ready to go?"

She smiled nodding without turning to the man that had come up behind her. Her boyfriend – Draco Malfoy.

Yet another reason why the week had been action-packed.

"Are your friends still here?" she queried, turning to him with eyebrow raised.

Draco shook his head. "The others left this morning. And don’t call them my friends. . . they’re not."

Willow smirked, lowering her raised eyebrow. "Not even Ron – the one that saved my life?"

"Weasel has my undying gratitude, of course," the young man chuckled. "But that doesn’t make him my friend."

"Of course not." She giggled, her eyes dancing with merriment. Burnt bridges had been repaired in the two days since the Ascension – and her boyfriend had made alliances with those that had come to help. Perhaps he was right and they weren’t friends – but they were comrades in all things good now.

And that was saying something.

She wrapped her arms around Draco’s neck, drawing his mouth to hers. When their lips met it was like fire and ice, a hissing mental sound of relief as two passionate forces came together in a kiss that would leave them both breathless. She opened her lips, moaning into the warm cavern of his mouth, her tongue snaking out to tease lovingly at his. His hands were on her ass, squeezing gently, pushing her into his chest, his front side, that aching member in his nether regions.

It was the footsteps on the stairs that did them in, causing the two to leap apart. Willow turned from the doorway, wiping at her lips, smoothing down her hair.

"Are you two about done? I would like to get back to Hogwarts before dinner, if you do not mind."

Willow nodded, afraid to turn to look at her father lest he see the passions he still carried in her eyes thanks to the ‘little kiss’ she had just shared with Draco.

"We’ll be right down, daddy. Are Buffy and Xander here yet?"

"No."

He left it at that, which was the best; and the witch could hear his footsteps recede, echoing back down the stairs. She bit her lip, trying to force her tears back into herself. As if she just thought about it hard enough the pain would go away and she could be free to live and love without the ache in her heart where her best friends should have been.

To be fair, though, only one of those best friends was missing.

Buffy had taken the news that Willow was leaving well. She had suspected it all along, it turned out. Sunnydale wasn’t safe for Severus’ daughter so long as Voldemort was still alive. The blonde had cried, nodded, and they had hugged. Buffy, at least, was at peace with the decision that had been made.

Which was a far cry from how Xander had reacted.

He had sat there quietly, the day after graduation; not speaking a word as she told him she would be leaving and why. He hadn’t uttered a single sound, and that alone was enough to break her heart.

And then he had gotten up from the chair and left.

She hadn’t seen him since.

"He’ll come around."

Willow shrugged and pocketed the miniature-sized luggage that lay on her bed. She looked around the room one last time, taking mental inventory of both what she *had* packed and what she had not. That was it. She was done. Time to leave Sunnydale and venture off into the wide world of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Draco had assured her the students would be terrified of her simply because she was Snape’s daughter.

"I’m ready." She muttered, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand and squeezing it for reassurance. He drew her back in for another; fleeting, kiss – and then they were going down the stairs, out to the backyard. She locked the door behind her, glancing one last time at her childhood home. She would see it again, that much she had to tell herself.

Her father already had the portkey out and looked quite out of place in her backyard, black robes already adorning his body in anticipation of his return. He loved that school, she could tell by the look in his eyes – but he also needed a break. A break she was going to insist he take for at least a small portion of the summer holidays.

It was now or never, she knew, looking into the dark, unreadable eyes of her father. And that was only if she had a choice, of course – which she did not. He was quite willing to put her in a full body bind if that’s what it took to get her to go with him to the safety of his beloved school.

Luckily for him, and her, she wasn’t going to put up a fight.

"We’ll come back. Buffy can visit. So can Xander if he gets his head out of his arse." Draco murmured, drawing her into his arms to stand next to the Professor.

Willow felt a hand on her arm and sighed, exhaling a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Xander wasn’t coming to say goodbye. But he would forgive her eventually. She had to do what was right for herself for once in her life – and this was it. Her magic needed training and she needed protecting. It wasn’t fair to them or her to stay here, where Voldemort could get to her readily and easily. They would be sitting ducks against his magic, and she wasn’t much better off.

Best for her to go.

Xander would understand that one day.

"Now all you do," her father began slowly, holding out the little box that had the portkey in it. "Is touch it. The magic will do the rest, of course."

Willow nodded. This part was really just a formality. She already knew the function of a portkey and most likely could have constructed one all by herself – she had read about it in an obscure text of Giles’.

She flashed her father and Draco a brave smile and touched the portkey.

Immediately the world around her began to spin, lurching and jolting her body.

She "landed" with a sickening lurch that left her dizzy and gasping for breath, fighting back the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. It was only her keenly rational mind that made her move away from the spot she had arrived on so that her father and Draco wouldn’t "land" on top of her.

Draco was next, and he didn’t look nearly as green as she felt.

"Takes a while to get used to that." He chuckled softly, putting an arm around her shoulder even as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

She nodded, swallowing another mouthful of air to help calm her stomach and looking for the first time around the room she had arrived in.

It was a classroom, her father’s she guessed. There was a blackboard at the front of the class, desks, and some equipment she knew had to be for potions. She smiled. This was where her father worked. Where he taught and scared the living Hell out of students every day during the school year.

It made her feel all tingly-joyful inside.

With a pop her father was there, looking worriedly at her.

"You are well?"

She shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I guess. Those portkey thingies are nasty on the stomach."

She heard him chuckle even as she shut her eyes to fight off another bout of nausea.

"Draco – help her to the Headmaster’s office. I need to make sure my office is still in once piece and then I shall join you."

He swept out of the room in a swirl of robes, and Willow stifled a giggle. He looked like a bat when he moved like that.

"Come along, then – just lean on me if you need to."

She felt all sorts of safe in Draco’s arms, as he led her out of the classroom and into the empty hallways. It was early evening here, the students would be getting ready for dinner. So, for the moment, she had Draco all to herself.

With a burst of energy she didn’t think she possessed at that moment, the ebony haired witch pushed Draco back against one of the hallway walls, her mouth crashing into his. She pushed roughly at his lips with her tongue, demanding entrance which he willing gave. Within moments they were each panting for air, gasping for breath around the passionate kisses they had begun.

Until. . .

Willow pulled away, giving Draco a coy smile before turning to walk down the hall in the direction he had been leading her. Her voice floated over her shoulder, to his ears; managing to work its way into his lust-filled mind.

"Twenty-five more days. . ."

~*~The End~*~