To Know Who I Am

Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to my beta reader, ubiquirk, my Brit-picker, saracen77, my alpha readers, bluedolfyn and willow_kat, and all those lovely people who have left reviews.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.

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Chapter 15

*Celia!*

She woke suddenly, every muscle taut and ready to respond. Severus was still asleep, so he hadn’t heard it. She shifted slightly and scanned the room but saw no sign of any disturbance.

*Celia, wake up!*

Oh Goddess, it’s Willow!

*What is it? What’s wrong?*

*Spike’s back. He’s been poisoned. You need to get here and bring some Blood Replenishing Solution.*

*You don’t have any?*

*Already used it.*

“Shit!” she said aloud, waking Severus, who, like her, came instantly awake and alert.

“What?”

“I have to get to Hogsmeade House. Do you have any Blood Replenishing Potion here, or is it all in the Hospital Wing?” She threw on her bathrobe and quickly Transfigured it into a nondescript shirt and jeans.

“I have one dose here. What …?” He rose and began to dress as well.

After three weeks of nothing, Spike’s gone and brought a crisis back with him.

“Spike’s poisoned,” she said instead. “Slayer blood is … it's like a bezoar for vampires, and Willow already gave Kennedy all she had. Blood Replenisher, I mean. I’ll go to the cottage and get mine. I don’t know how much of her blood he took. One more dose may not be enough.”

“I’m coming with you,” he said as he Summoned the small flask from his bathroom cabinet.

She was already heading into the sitting room, and as she grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, she answered, “Go straight there. I’ll be right behind you.”

Thank Goddess Minerva opened his Floo for offsite travel. We’d be tripping over each other if we both had to go to the cottage first.

Without waiting for a reply, she tossed in the powder, said, “Celia’s cottage,” and stepped through.

Once in her own sitting room, she raised her hands and Summoned two rather larger flasks of Blood Replenishing Potion. She stowed them safely in her pockets and Flooed to Willow’s.

When she arrived, Severus was examining Kennedy, who was lying on the loveseat looking pale and clammy, as Willow looked on with worry. Spike was on the sofa. Celia went straight to Willow.

“How much did he take?”

“About three pints. She’s … she’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes, but that is the most she could have given,” Severus replied. “She appears to be regenerating her blood quickly. She should wake soon.”

Willow nodded mutely. On the floor next to the couch, Celia spotted a glass on the floor that had obviously contained blood. Then she looked at the angry wound on Spike’s chest and the sickly black tendrils that extended from it, forming bizarre patterns that reached up towards his shoulder and neck as well as down towards his abdomen.

“He needs more, doesn’t he,” she said flatly. It obviously wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” Willow replied. “It stopped spreading, but he’s still bad.”

She pulled out the two flasks of potion she had brought and set them on an end table, then picked up the glass and set it beside them. As she pulled up her sleeve, she wandlessly Vanished the traces of Kennedy’s blood from the glass.

“You would do this for someone you hate?” Severus asked, leaving Kennedy to stand by her.

“I don’t hate him,” she replied. “Not trusting and hating are two very different things.”

She sat down, positioned her wrist over the glass, and used a Slicing Hex to open an artery. Watching the blood flow into the glass, she wondered why it always seemed to pulse out of a person so quickly when you were racing time to stop it, but now, just watching, it seemed so slow. When the glass was nearly full, she murmured a Healing Charm and the wound sealed promptly. She picked up one of the flasks, opened it, and drank half the contents, then looked up at Severus.

“Can you give it to him, please? I know that’s barely a pint, but I’m a little dizzy, and I really don’t want to spill it.”

He nodded reluctantly. She watched as he dragged Spike into a sitting position, pressed the glass into his hand, and ordered him to drink. As he did, she saw the wound appear to shrink slightly and the black lines seemed to recede. But not completely. It wasn’t enough.

“Give me the glass, Severus,” she said. “He’ll need more.”

He didn’t look like he was going to, so she Summoned the glass. As the glass left Spike’s hand, he reached out with his other hand to catch it, his left, which had been draped across his stomach, and something caught Celia’s eye. She caught the glass, set it down, and stared briefly.

“Spike,” she said, “what’s on your arm?”

He looked down at his own forearm as though seeing it for the first time, then scowled, or at least she imagined that is what he was attempting to do. It was difficult to tell since his face was already in vampire mode.

She could see it more clearly from this angle. A skull and snake. Unlike the faded Mark on Severus’ arm, this one was inky black.

“Bloody wankers really did put this thing on me,” he said weakly, as he let his arm fall across his belly again. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was drunk.

“Well, now we know they’re definitely casting new ones,” she said as she set her wrist over the glass again.

“Are you sure he needs more?” Severus asked tightly.

She looked at the wound again. It hadn’t shrunk any further since he had finished drinking.

“Yes,” she said. “Hopefully just another pint.” With that, she recast the Slicing Hex and let more of her blood flow into the glass. She noticed Kennedy beginning to stir.

When she resealed the wound this time, she was much dizzier, and her hand shook as she picked up the unstoppered flask of Blood Replenishing Potion and downed the remainder. She willed the potion to hurry up and work as she watched Spike drink still more of her blood. The wound shrank further and finally disappeared.

Severus was returning to her, the look in his eyes reminiscent of that afternoon in the Hospital Wing after she’d first woken up. She noted, completely irrelevantly, that this had to be the first time she’d seen him in shirtsleeves outside his quarters or hers. In the next instant, she was yelling at him to look out as Spike jumped up from the couch beside him. He turned, putting himself between her and the vampire, and drew his wand. In the same instant, black ropes shot from her fingertips and the end of his wand. His wrapped tightly around Spike, who fell back against the couch. Hers sort of fell short.

“More. Need more!”

“Like hell you do,” Severus snarled, his wand still pointed at Spike.

“Don’t,” Celia said, afraid he was about to incinerate the vampire. “They sent him back like this for a reason. We need to find out what.”

“Need more,” Spike repeated.

“No, you don’t,” she said. “But I see your taste for Slayer blood hasn’t exactly gone away.”

“More.”

She looked over at Kennedy, who was now sitting up with Willow’s help.

“You’ve had something like five pints, Spike – you don’t need more, and you’re certainly not going to get more,” she said. “What the hell happened to you?”

“More!” he insisted.

After several more minutes of this, it was clear he wasn’t going to answer questions any time soon. Willow brought in one of the kitchen chairs and sat him in it, adding more ropes to hold him there, then Levitated Kennedy upstairs to their room. Celia noticed that Spike paid little attention to the other Slayer. When Willow returned, Celia asked about that.

“Did he get like that when Kennedy cut him off?”

“No, but he was still pretty weak.”

“Hmm.” Why would he get more demanding instead of less once he was cured? Maybe something specific to the poison they used? Did they know we had more than one Slayer here? How much did he end up giving away?

The odds were she wasn’t going to get any of those answers, and she could just feel even more questions piling up in the meantime.

“You probably have to get back, huh?” Willow looked less than thrilled at the prospect.

Celia looked at the clock. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She wished there could be time for a nap before breakfast. Maybe she could get away with skipping it today. The dizziness was fading, but she was so tired. She looked at Severus, who looked like he wanted to not be there anymore – or maybe it was more like he wanted Spike to not be there anymore – then back to Willow. “You got this under control?”

“I think so,” she said. “He pretty much only seems interested in you.”

“Great,” Celia replied.

“More,” Spike said. “Dark. More dark.”

“Great, you’ve added a new word. Maybe later you’ll even graduate to sentences.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did Angel get like this?” she asked Willow. Celia knew that Angel had once been poisoned and had drunk Buffy’s blood to be cured of it, but that was about it.

“I don’t think so,” Willow said. “I wasn’t exactly there for that part though.”

Celia hoisted herself to her feet, willing the room to stay still, and gently touched Severus’ arm. “Let’s go,” she said.

With a nod, he followed her to the fireplace, never taking his eyes off the bound vampire.
Just before they activated the Floo, Celia decided she needed to say one more thing. “Oh, and Spike? Just in case there was any confusion: you are very explicitly not invited to Hogwarts. Not now, not ever. Got it?”

“Need more,” he replied. “More dark.”

Shaking her head, Celia tossed in the powder, said, “Celia Reese’s cottage, Hogwarts,” and stepped through.

~ ~ ~

When he arrived in Celia’s quarters, Severus almost tripped over her. Clearly the spinning of Floo travel had exacerbated her dizziness from blood loss, and she had barely crawled away from the space immediately before the hearth.

“Don’t try to get up,” he said sharply.

“No worries,” she replied, her voice barely stronger than a whisper.

He knelt beside her and passed his wand over her using the same diagnostic spells he had on Kennedy. She was certainly in better shape, having lost less blood, but it would still be awhile before she would be back to normal. Her color was improving and her skin was not cool or sweaty as Kennedy’s had been, and that encouraged him. He considered and rejected the idea of bringing her to the Hospital Wing. At this point, she primarily needed rest. He gathered her into his arms and cast a Lightening Spell, then carried her into her room and lay her down on her bed.

“I’ll be ok,” she mumbled. “Just need a minute to get un-dizzy.”

“At the rate your blood is being regenerated with the help of the potion, you should be recovered by lunchtime,” he said. “I will cancel your morning classes.”

Her brow furrowed, then relaxed. “Thursday. All first-years in the morning. O.W.L.s in the afternoon, though.”

“It would not matter if the morning students were N.E.W.T.-level,” he said firmly. “You are in no condition to stand, much less teach.”

“I’m not arguing. I’m just glad it … it’s just less bad for the little ones to miss.”

Smirking a little at her stubbornness, he sat next to her on the bed and brushed a stray hair from her face. Surely she could have used Legilimency to learn what he knew. She did not have to endanger herself.

“Why?” he asked.

She looked puzzled. “Why what?”

“Why would you give your own blood to save a vampire?”

She sighed. “Whatever I think of him, he is on our side. Supposedly.”

“And yet you don’t trust him.”

“I think he proved I was right. He’s still a vampire, and when the chips are down, he pretty much just wants blood.” Her eyes closed and her breathing, while still rapid, began to slow. He decided to wait until he was certain she was asleep before leaving. After several minutes, he folded the duvet over her and carefully stood to leave.

“Severus,” she called softly, and he turned back to face her. “Thank you.”

For what? he wondered. She certainly had not required his protection, though he had given it.

Seeming to sense his confusion, she added, “For everything.”

Still not understanding, he nodded and turned to leave once again. He had several arrangements to make, and first he would need to report the morning’s events to Minerva.

~ ~ ~

She groaned and turned to her side, her feet tangling in the comforter. Her eyes blinked open and she found herself looking into two gigantic eyes in a very strange face.

“Dobby!” she cried. “Goddess, you startled me.”

“Dobby is sorry,” replied the house-elf, “but Professor Snape is telling Dobby to watch over Professor Reese until she wakes up.”

She looked around and realized she was in her own bed. Where she wasn’t supposed to sleep because it was outside the castle. It took her a second to remember why she was there. “And what are you supposed to do now?”

“Dobby is bringing Professor Reese breakfast and telling Professor Snape that she is awake.”

“Breakfast?” she asked. “That would probably involve sitting up.”

The elf nodded. “And Dobby is supposed to get Madam Pomfrey if Professor Reese is going back to sleep when she sits up.”

“Very thorough,” she murmured. Good thing he didn’t bring me to her in the first place though. She’d never let me out for afternoon classes. She rolled onto her back and pushed herself up into a seated position. The room only wavered a little. “So far so good.”

The house-elf snapped his fingers, and a tray appeared, hovering over her lap. It had a lavish breakfast on it: a spinach omelet, ham steak, toast, and hot chocolate instead of her usual coffee. She blew on the hot chocolate and took a sip. “It’s very good, Dobby, thank you.”

The elf smiled and continued to stare at her.

“Are you supposed to watch me eat my whole breakfast?”

“Yes, Professor Reese.”

She shook her head and began to eat. Then she thought of something. “Didn’t you say that you’re also supposed to tell Professor Snape that I’m awake?”

“Dobby already did,” he replied, looking surprised at her question.

“How … never mind.” She returned her attention to her breakfast and took a bite of the omelet.

~ ~ ~

It was nearly ten o’clock when the note appeared on the desk at the front of the Potions classroom. Severus was, at the time, examining the cauldrons of the third-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and thus did not notice its arrival immediately.

Have these dunderheads been sleeping through my classes for the past two and a half years? Every last one of these cauldrons should be filled with a liquid that at least approximates the color yellow. Instead, more than half are blue or even black. How is it possible after all this time not to understand the difference that will be made to a potion by dicing a shrivelfig as opposed to mincing it?

Abandoning them to their fates once he had determined they were at least not creating anything that should involve toxic fumes or explosions, he returned to his desk. There, he found Dobby’s missive. His face remained impassive as he picked it up, read it, then folded and placed it in a pocket of his teaching robes. In the time he had been surveying the students’ work, she had not only awoken but had eaten and appeared healthy if not fully strong again.

If fewer points than usual were lost by students during the remainder of the class, surely this was due only to their unusually good behavior and relative lack of idiocy.

~ ~ ~

*Will?*

*Hey, you’re up!*

*How’s Kennedy?*

*Just about dealing with sitting up. You?*

*Just finished breakfast and about ready to try for the bathroom.*

*Already?*

*Don’t forget, Kennedy lost more blood than I did.*

*That’s true.*

*Any improvement with Spike?*

*He was driving me nuts, so I stuck him in the basement.*

*You put the homicidal vampire in a basement full of weapons?*

*I locked them up, silly.*

*Oh.*

*What do you think got into him?*

*Slayer blood, obviously.*

*Why didn’t he get that way over Kennedy then? Even after you left, he only wanted to go after you, not her. Not that I’m complaining, of course.*

*One of the many questions I want answered. Um, the bathroom thing’s getting kind of urgent. Talk more later?*

*‘Kay.*

~ ~ ~

After dinner, Severus allowed himself to be persuaded to return to Hogsmeade House. Reluctantly. Celia had a point. If the vampire had any information, they needed to hear it. He was less convinced she needed to be there, but clearly she would go with or without him. Minerva had agreed it would be preferable for him to attend.

When they arrived, Willow and Kennedy were sitting on the shorter of the two sofas. Willow rose to greet them, but Kennedy remained seated. Celia embraced her friends, as was her custom. He simply wished them both a good evening and asked after Kennedy’s health.

“I’m doing better with the standing and the walking. Still pretty dizzy, though,” she replied.

“That is to be expected. If you were not a Slayer, you might well still be unconscious,” Severus replied.

“You look all up-and-around,” Kennedy said to Celia, sounding very put out.

“You’ll catch up.” Celia looked about the room. “Spike still in the basement?”

“Yep, and still insane,” Willow replied.

“Basement insane?” Celia asked as she led him to the couch.

The question obviously meant something to the other witch, who answered, “The button-button thing would be a welcome bit of coherence.”

“Wonderful. Shall we try anyway?”

The redhead nodded and left the room.

“I hate when you do that,” Kennedy grumbled. Since the exchange had made little sense to him, Severus found he agreed.

“Sorry,” Celia said. “It’s just kind of shorthand, you know?”

“No, I don’t. That’s the point.”

Celia sighed. “Can we not have this conversation again?”

“Fine.”

After a short silence, Celia added, “You don’t want to know. Not like that.”

“How do you know? How does she know? If you can handle it, so can I.”

“That’s not the point.”

“She thinks I’ll stop loving her.”

Celia closed her eyes. Severus wished he were not present. While he had become more comfortable interacting with Celia’s friends, even to the point one might almost &ndash but not quite – call socializing, he did not care to be privy to a discussion of their marriage and the ways Celia apparently complicated it.

“She might be afraid of that, yeah. You’ve met her parents; you know what she grew up with. Can you blame her? But it’s more about protecting you.”

“From what? I already know the stuff she did when she went all evil. It’s this other little stuff.”

“Kennedy … the basement thing. She was so filled with shame she unintentionally willed herself invisible. Do you not get that? Think of the stupidest or worst thing you ever did for a second. Now, you want to make her 'remember' that? Do you?”

Severus could not imagine inflicting such a thing upon someone he cared for.

“No! Of course not.” Kennedy fell silent, then said, “That’s the real reason?”

“It’s the main one. That's kind of why we joke about it. Makes it a little easier for her. For both of us.” Celia closed her eyes briefly again.

Severus abruptly realized she was communicating with Willow and had probably asked her to delay until this conversation had finished. While it was certainly useful to be able to do so, he found he had a certain amount of sympathy for Kennedy’s discomfort.

Before Kennedy could say anything else, Willow returned, the vampire still lashed to the chair and floating before her. Severus saw Celia shudder, and he barely restrained the urge to cast several painful hexes on him.

~ ~ ~

Spike was giggling like … well, like crazy. Willow was right. It was the Sunnydale High basement all over again. Willow set the chair down so that Spike was facing the corner space between the two couches, then joined Kennedy on the loveseat.

Celia was very disconcerted to see Spike turn his head and focus his gaze on her for a moment before returning to his giggling. The look in his eyes was not the feral, hungry look from this morning. Still, having him so focused upon her was disturbing.

“So, are you ready to try talking again?” Willow asked.

No reply.

“‘Cause I’m not crazy about you drinking Kennedy’s and Celia’s blood and then not even telling us what happened.”

Spike continued to giggle. He was getting on Celia’s last nerve.

“Spike!” she yelled at him. He shut up, turned his head, and fixed his eyes on her again. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Too much,” he said. “Much too dark.”

“At least that’s new. Can you maybe explain that, please?”

He looked at her as though she were the one who had lost her mind and said, “No.”

“Can you at least tell us what happened?” Kennedy asked.

No reply, though he began to giggle once more.

“Spike, cut it out!” Willow said.

He merely laughed louder.

“Spike, enough!” Celia yelled.

He stopped.

“What the hell?” she demanded.

“I don’t … I don’t know,” he said. He looked seriously confused.

“Severus, you’re the only one who hasn’t tried. Say something to him.”

He looked at her for a moment, then said in his most intimidating classroom voice, “Mr. Spike, explain yourself.”

The inane giggling resumed, and the vampire became fascinated with his own left knee.

“Spike,” she whispered, barely loud enough for Severus to hear her from inches away. The vampire whipped his head around to look at her. “I repeat, what the hell? Why are you only responding to me?”

“You’re the only one what’s real,” he replied.

Celia exchanged a glance with Willow.

*You’re right. Basement insane.*

*See if he can at least tell you what happened.*

“Spike, what happened to you?” Celia asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Caught me listening. Thought I’d just got there though. Stupid buggers.”

“Who caught you?”

The look he gave her suggested that she was the world’s largest imbecile. “Those Death Eater blokes you lot sent me out to find, who else? You saw what they did to me.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “we’ll get to that in a minute. First I want to know where you found them, how you found them, what you heard, and what they think you heard.”

He looked thoroughly confused, but at least he stayed focused on her. She sighed.

“Okay, start with where. Where did you find them?”

“Big run-down house, town called Little Hangleton.”

She sensed rather than felt Severus tense and turned to look at him questioningly.

“The Dark Lord’s father’s home.”

“That’s … surprisingly obvious. Why is that even possible?”

“Without any active Death Eaters left, why would the Ministry continue to keep an eye on it?”

She supposed he had a point. “And sending Aurors to check it out now would be pointless, I’ll bet. They’ve probably left, now that they know they’ve been found.”

“Perhaps.”

She returned to her interrogation. “How’d you find them?”

“Bloke in a bar told me there was some bad mojo around those parts, so I went to check it out. People think the house is haunted, you know. Made it easy to figure where it had to be going down.”

“I’ve got to give you credit, Spike. That’s more than I thought you’d be able to find. Why didn’t you report in?”

“I did!” the vampire protested. “Sent an owl that said I was getting close.”

She rolled her eyes. “That was days ago. You couldn’t have been poisoned more than thirty-six hours before you got here.”

“I was trying to hear what they were on about. Wasn’t about to send any of that with a bloody bird.”

Now we get to the really important part.

“What did you hear?” she asked, edging forward in her seat slightly.

“Lots for the first two days. Most of it didn’t make much sense.”

“Tell us anyway.”

“Who’s us? You’re the only one here.” Spike looked genuinely confused.

Just what I always wanted: my own personal vampire to whom I am apparently the entire universe. Yay.

“Right, so tell me then.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why should I? You’ll probably stake me once I tell you.”

“I won’t stake you, Spike. You know that.”

“Oh yeah? You’ve certainly tried often enough.”

“Spike, if I was really trying to stake you, you’d be dust already.”

He snorted. “You wish. Even Buffy never managed it.”

She decided to ignore that, not least because it was true. Also, Buffy’d kill me if I actually did it. If Willow didn’t beat her to it.

“You went to a lot of trouble and got yourself poisoned over whatever you heard, Spike. Why not tell me?”

“What, you’re not going to hold it over me that you and that other Slayer saved my worthless life?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“That was coming next actually,” she admitted.

He appeared to consider this.

“Right, so this lot want their old mate back, just like you said. They’re not that interested in Red though. Already had a plan before you went and told them about Buffy.”

“I didn’t …” she started. “Never mind. What plan?”

“I didn’t get all the details.”

“Got any?”

“Well, yeah,” he snorted. “They need three sacrifices: a boy, a girl, and a traitor. Dunno what exactly that’s supposed to mean. Traitor’s probably hard to find, but they didn’t seem to have a boy or a girl yet, either, and that ought to be easy enough.”

Celia felt as though her blood had been replaced with liquid nitrogen. The slightest tap, and she was sure she would shatter. “Did they say ‘a boy, a girl, and a traitor,’ Spike, or ‘the boy, the girl, and the traitor’?”

“Might’ve said ‘the,’” he agreed. “That’d make more sense, if they needed specific ones, why they didn’t have ’em yet.”

Once she'd deciphered that, she buried her face in her hands while absorbed it. It was one thing to suspect and quite another to have that suspicion confirmed.

Harry was right.

She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves and thaw her veins while Spike, no longer held by her attention, began laughing again. She forced herself to look up.

“Celia,” Willow said, “it doesn’t have to mean that.”

Celia gave her the look she had practiced on at least a dozen students with missing homework. “Of course it does, Will. Two out of three, anyway, were marked directly by what’s-his-face, one on purpose and one most definitely not. They’ve found a way to do it using a magical link, rather than a blood relation. The ‘Boy Who Lived’ and the traitor who helped bring what’s-his-face down are obvious enough. I wonder who the girl is though? ‘One girl in all the world’ hasn’t fit for years, but it could still be our Potential.”

“Or perhaps Ginevra Weasley,” Severus offered.

“The woman I met at the joke shop?”

He nodded. “The Dark Lord possessed her for a time when she was quite young. She was the girl I told you about when you asked about the Chamber of Secrets.”

“Shit.”

“Indeed. Excuse me a moment.” He rose and left the room, though Celia had a feeling he had only gone just out of sight, probably to send Patronus messages to a few key people. His guess might be wrong, but it would be seriously stupid not to take steps to ensure Miss Weasley’s safety in the meantime.

“Spike, do they know you heard that part?”

“No, I heard that early,” he said. “They didn’t catch me until the third night.”

She shook her head. These people were clearly careless idiots. Unfortunately, that probably made them more dangerous, rather than less.

“What else did you hear in the first two nights?”

“Lot of mumbo-jumbo.”

“Spells?”

“Some of it.”

“Like what?”

“Uncle-something, parry-cuss, mack-you-la, vixet-filly, stuff like that.”

She shook her head again. A mangled rendition of poorly-remembered and probably poorly-spoken Latin wasn’t going to do them any good.

“Spike, will you show me?”

It was always interesting to watch a vampire pale.

“Don’t like people muckin’ about in my head,” he said just as Severus returned.

“I know,” she said. “Nobody does, and you’ve got more reason than most. Trust me when I say that I have absolutely zero desire to ‘muck about in your head.’” More than a hundred years of vampire fun and games. Who’d want to see all that? “But if you can focus on just what you saw, I can look at just that and nothing else. It would really help to know exactly what sort of incantations they were using.”

“What do I have to do?”

She was shocked. He really should have put up more of a fight. Between the chip and the programming the First had done to him, he should be much more resistant to the idea of having Legilimency done on him, even with as much control over the situation as she was offering. Once she had as much information out of him as possible, she really needed to know why he was so fixated on her.

“What did Giles tell you about Legilimency before you came here?”

“Don’t look them in the eye if I can help it. And if I can’t, just think real hard about something they won’t care about.”

She supposed that summed up Giles’ idea of Occlumency lessons pretty well. We should’ve had Willow work with him on it a bit before he left.

“So, now you do the opposite. You look me in the eye and think about exactly what you need to show me. And only about that, Spike.” She thought for a moment and drew her wand from her sleeve. It did make some things easier, and she still wasn’t at one hundred percent.

Spike looked her in the eye and said, “Okay.”

“Legilimens,” she said, not wanting to waste energy on nonverbal casting, and promptly found herself looking through a window from a very weird angle.

The room within was dimly lit with candles, the glass in the window grimy, and so she couldn’t make out the faces of the several figures in black robes poring over books.

“Parcius Iunctio,” said one of the figures, in a rough, deep voice. “Couldn’t they come up with something easier to say?”

One of the others snapped, “Raising the Dark Lord was never going to be easy, you idiot.”

“Why do I have to do the Macula Iunctio?” asked a feminine voice. “Why does he get the Boy and I get the Traitor?”

“Because I said so,” replied the one who had snapped.

“I don’t see why we need the girl,” said another, this one male.

“Because of the prophecy, you dolt,” said the one who was clearly in charge.

The woman added, “‘In the seventh year shall come a girl of ancient line and powers untold, and she shall hold the key to the return …’ What was that?”

The scene had shifted slightly just before the woman had broken off, and now the view was nothing but leaves. Spike had obviously been lurking in a tree. She broke off the spell.

“The incantations seem obvious enough,” she said. “I suppose I should’ve been able to decipher your version of them, really. Did you ever hear any more of that prophecy?”

“No,” he said.

She repeated what she'd seen to the others. Willow looked thoughtful. Kennedy looked like she wanted to jump up and go round these people up. Severus just looked … cold. Like he'd been turned to stone. She couldn't deal with that right now.

“‘A girl of powers untold,’” Willow mused. “I get the seventh year part. Obviously this May will be the seventh anniversary of his death. That’s significant. The ancient line doesn’t tell us much. Everybody’s ‘of an ancient line’ of some kind.”

“I'm thinking they mean one that's important somehow,” Kennedy interrupted.

“Yeah, probably,” Celia agreed. “And she’s just arriving, so that probably lets out Miss Weasley. Although maybe she was away and just got back?”

“Not that I am aware of,” Severus replied. He appeared disturbed.

So did Willow. “Celia, what if that means you?”

She considered it. “I suppose it could, but if those are the powers, then you’d be a candidate, too.”

“Yeah, but … they didn’t attack me. Plus, ancient lineage? Not so much with the impressive pedigree here, what with the being a Muggle and all. And you’ve got the Slayer thing going on.”

“You weren’t here yet, so of course they couldn’t have attacked you. And obviously if I have no idea who my ancestors were, they can’t either.”

“Could be the Potential,” Kennedy said. “I mean, none of us are really ‘girls’ anymore, right? And since we don’t know who she is, we don’t know what powers she has yet or what sort of ‘line’ she might come from. Maybe it’s the Slayer line.”

“That’s true,” Celia agreed, wondering if she was about to eat her words about not using the Potential Slayer Locator Spell. She turned back to the vampire. “Spike, did you learn anything else the first two nights you were there?”

“Not really. The first night was more of the same, and I left after they heard me the second night.”

She crossed her arms and frowned. “What did you see and hear on the third night before they caught you?”

“I’d just got there. Which was good, because they thought it was the first time I’d just got there.”

“So they don’t know you heard anything?” That sounded just a bit too good to be true. “They didn’t check?”

“They tried,” he sneered. “I showed ’em some lovely scenes from the bad old days. They … actually kind of liked that.” Spike actually shuddered.

Huh. Maybe the having a soul thing affects him more than it looks like.

“Tried giving me Veritaserum, too, idiots.”

“Didn’t they make you for a vamp? Or were they just that stupid?”

“No, they knew. Why else would they use that poison?”

”Good point,” she conceded. “So, smart enough to make or obtain vamp-specific poison but stupid enough to waste precious Veritaserum on a vampire. Did they put the Mark on you before or after they stabbed you with the poison?”

“After.”

“Will you show me that?”

“Why?”

“I want to see what the differences are in how they are doing it.”

“How could you tell?”

She had almost forgotten that he didn’t see the others in the room as real. “I know someone who’s seen the original version cast, so we can compare the two.”

Spike snorted. “You mean your bad-boy loverboy what’s sitting next to you. I’m not stupid, you know.”

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the images that characterization had conjured from her mind. “I thought you couldn’t see the other people here.”

“I can see them,” Spike replied, as if he were trying to explain particle physics to a three year old. “They’re just not real like you.”

“Right,” she said, baffled. “For now, let’s focus on the Mark. First I want a closer look, see if it’s visibly different. Did they even say why they did it? I mean, besides to turn you into a walking locator beacon?”

“That was pretty much it, I think,” he said. “I’d show it to you, but there’s all these ropes here.”

“Yeah, that’s on account of you trying to drink the rest of my blood earlier,” she said. “You going to try that again?”

His eyes narrowed. “No,” he said.

She didn’t believe him. “‘Kay, then. Will, would you do the honors of re-securing his left arm so that we can see the Mark, but he still can’t actually use it?”

“Sure.”

The ropes binding his left arm to the chair loosened, his arm flipped over, and the ropes reattached at the wrist and elbow, leaving the forearm visible.

Celia blinked several times, trying to clear her vision. Obviously there was something wrong with it, because all she saw was blank skin. She turned to Severus.

“You saw it, too, this morning, right?”

“I did.”

“Maybe it doesn’t take on vampires,” Kennedy offered. “You know, that thing where they’re eternally unchanging and all?”

“Maybe,” Celia said doubtfully. Spike was looking at his arm in mute shock. “Look at me, Spike,” she commanded, and he obeyed instantly. “Now think about when they put it on you. Legilimens.”

Now they had on their masks. She could tell by the emotions that went with the memory that Spike was immobilized, probably with a full Body-Bind as there were no restraints visible, and she heard the voice of the one who seemed to be in charge, saying, “So let’s see if we can’t find who sent you then. They may have figured out how to detect our transmitters, but they won’t see this until it’s too late for them and for you.” A wand was driven into the flesh of Spike’s arm. “Morsmordre!” the voice cast.

For the briefest instant, Celia felt searing pain in her own forearm, and she broke off the spell. When she released her grip on the flesh and looked, she half expected to see the Mark there, the pain had seemed so real. She was relieved to find the only mark was the already fading scar from this morning’s bloodletting.

She turned to Severus. “I was going to have you look, but there’s not much to see and no point in activating your Mark. If it hurt me, it’ll probably hurt you more.”

He appeared pained already. “I can certainly stand a bit of pain.”

“I know that,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him. “But there’s no point. All the guy did was jab his wand into Spike’s arm and say the incantation Morsmordre. Is that all what’s-his-face did?”

“Verbally, yes,” Severus said. “I do not know what nonverbal spells he may have embedded in it, however, but I am certain there must be several.”

Celia thought about this. “Most likely they don’t know, either. He seemed to think it would still have the tracking abilities though.” She turned back to Spike. “How did you get here?”

“Walked a fair bit while I could, then used a keyport thingie from Red.”

“Portkey,” she corrected absently. “That’s … that’s good. They probably couldn’t really track much then, and they can’t find you here.”

“They can, however, obtain the general location,” Severus said. “Only the house itself is under the Fidelius Charm. So they will know to look in Hogsmeade, though they will not know if he or we have left since the time that the Mark disappeared.”

Celia was sure that her disappointment was clearly evident. She shrugged it off. “Did you hear or see anything else, Spike?”

“Not really.”

She wasn’t sure how much she trusted his judgment but decided to accept that for now. “Fine, so fast forward a bit. Why did you decide you needed more of my blood once you’d already been de-poisoned?”

His eyes glazed. “More dark.”

“Ye-ah, you said that. Repeatedly. How’s about explaining what that means?”

“Different. Richer. Intoxicating.”

“Well, that explained absolutely nothing.” She thought a minute. “Is it the magic? The other Slayers you’ve drunk weren’t witches, right?”

“No, they weren’t.”

“Right, so Slayer-witch blood makes you nuts. Got it.”

“No.” He had that physics-to-a-toddler look and tone again.

“No? Spike, you’re nuts,” she retorted. “You went nuts this morning, and you’re still nuts.”

“No, I mean it’s not the magic. I’ve drunk Slayers. I’ve drunk witches. I’ve drunk wizards. Yours is more.”

“Is that why you think I’m more real?”

“You are more real,” he said. “The others are getting more real though.”

“Oh, good. It must be wearing off,” Willow said.

“I hope so,” Celia replied. “I’m not so crazy about having him fixated on me like this.” In fact, it’s seriously creeping me out.

“I can hear you,” Spike complained. “I’m right here, you know.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Wait a sec – why am I apologizing to someone who downed a couple of pints of my blood and then wanted the rest of it?”

“Because you’re tired?” Willow suggested. “Also, possibly the insanity is contagious.”

“Let’s go with tired,” Celia replied. “Kennedy looks like she’s half asleep, and I’m really not all that far behind her, for all that it’s …” She looked at her watch. “… okay, almost ten o’clock. Still pretty early, but later than I thought. Good thing you took us off the patrol roster for the night.”

Severus made a noncommittal noise that probably meant that wasn’t the reason he’d done that.

“We should get back though,” she said. “Because of the needing sleep and the needing to report in. Not necessarily in that order.”

“What do you want me to do with Spike?” Willow asked.

Celia shrugged. “Up to you. I’d keep him restrained until he’s back to himself or maybe send him back to Giles and let him play guard for a bit.”

“Maybe. I’ll see how it goes when I fill Giles in.”

“At least you don’t need to use a Floo to do it,” Celia said. “I really miss phones.”

“But you can’t just up and decide to step through a phone,” Willow pointed out.

“True.” She stood and stretched. Willow and Severus stood as well. Kennedy got up last and leaned on Willow a little for balance. “Speaking of, time to do just that.”

She embraced Willow and Kennedy and took in Severus’ stiff nods with a smile. A few short steps to the fireplace, a pinch of Floo powder, and soon she was spinning furiously toward Severus’ quarters.

~ ~ ~

When Severus returned to his quarters several hours later, he glanced automatically at the chair where Celia would sometimes sit and read while he graded papers. She was not there now, of course. If she had any sense at all, she was sound asleep. There was, however, a basket on the chair. He walked over to it and looked inside. It held snake skin, tumbleweed, and chrysalides, among other things. So, she had resigned herself to the conclusion at which he, Minerva, Potter, and her Watcher had arrived in their discussion earlier and had retrieved the spell ingredients from her cottage before turning in. He sighed.

She was so resistant. I can understand her desire to allow the girl a normal life, but if these new Death Eaters have targeted her, it is far more important to ensure that she is allowed to live at all.

He completed his toilet quickly. If this was to be the last time she shared his bed, he did not wish to waste another minute. He slipped under the covers gently, silently, both wanting and not wanting to wake her. Leaning on one elbow, he simply watched her as she slept for awhile. After several minutes, she turned towards him and opened her eyes.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“It is almost three. You should go back to sleep.”

Instead, she studied his face and raised a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. “You, Minerva, and Harry talked for almost three more hours after I left?”

He nodded. “Yes. She is still debating whether Potter and I should also leave.”

“There’s so little to go on,” she said with a sigh. “A fragment of a prophecy taken from the mind of an insane vampire? Not your most reliable source, especially if that’s your basis for kidnapping someone, even if it is for their own safety. Miss Weasley still seems a far more likely candidate.”

“Miss Weasley will continue to be guarded. Discreetly. Depending upon which student it is, there may be other options.”

“And yet I’ll bet the house-elves are packing my belongings in the cottage as we speak. Actually, it probably took them about two minutes.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I really don’t like the idea of letting you out of my sight,” she said softly. “But if Minerva decides you should leave, the point would be to head in different directions.”

“Yes,” he murmured into her hair. He pulled back and smirked at her. “And to quote you, I am entirely capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know. Doesn’t change the fact I want to protect you. You are, I believe, familiar with the phenomenon.” Her smile took the sting out of her imitation of him. She traced a finger along his cheekbone and down to his lips. “And you know that isn’t the only reason.”

“Your duty must come first.”

“I know. It does, but …” She looked very much as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words or perhaps couldn’t decide whether she should. Finally she said, “My duty comes first, but when this is all over, I'll try to come back.”

“You might change your mind,” he said, as much to caution himself as her.

“I won’t.”

She sounded so certain. He had probably been very certain about many things when he was twenty-four. Less so than when he had been only a few years younger, of course, but nevertheless. Once she was away – and around others her own age – she would lose that certainty.

“If you do not, you would be welcome,” he said at last.

“I won’t change my mind, Severus,” she said. “I …” Instead of continuing, she drew him down to her for a kiss that sent surges of electricity through his veins and straight to his groin.

If this was to be the last time, he was determined it should be memorable for both of them. Soon he realized she had a similar agenda, as she seemed intent upon memorizing every inch of him with eyes and fingers, lips and tongue.

Later, as they exchanged sleepy kisses, each flavored with the taste of the other’s body, she whispered something against his lips so softly that had he not felt the pattern of her breath, he might have missed it entirely.

“What did you say?” he asked. When she did not reply, he added, “I did not hear you.”

Pulling back a few inches and looking into her eyes, he saw that she wore the same expression she had earlier. What could she possibly fear saying to him?

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I love you,” she whispered. She swallowed and then said aloud and more steadily, “I love you, Severus. I just … I thought you should know that before I go.”

He stared at her for a moment in something that was not precisely shock. He’d known that she fancied herself falling in love even before the first time they’d fallen into bed together. After all, she’d shown him as much when she’d let him into her mind after that first time. And now, here was proof he’d been right, that they should never have allowed this … this relationship to progress. And she was professing her love for him? At least she possessed the sense to say only that she would “try” to come back to him.

She will expect me to say something. No, her hesitance was because she knew I would not. I cannot. Tomorrow she will identify this Potential, and unless the girl is one of a select few, she will take her away and most likely never return.

No, he could not put words to the feelings that had been growing within him. Instead, as she looked about to say something else, he silenced her with a bruising kiss.

As her lips parted, he slid his tongue eagerly inside. Already he was hardening again, as if they had not just sated each other. But this … this was different somehow. She arched her back, her breast seeking out and finding his hand, and he cupped it, passing his thumb gently over the pebbling nipple.

He trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, stopping briefly at the mark he’d made on this breast earlier. Soothing it with his tongue, he wondered if it would last long enough to remind her of him once she was gone or whether her Slayer healing would erase it too quickly. Pushing that thought from his mind, he nipped her again, and she made a delightful noise that reverberated through him as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

Then, despite his best intentions to wait, to make this take as long as possible, he was cradled between her thighs and sinking into the welcoming heat of her body. Her eyes widened as he filled her, and her expression was more open than he had ever seen. He stilled himself as she reached up to touch his face. When her palm drew near his lips, he turned into it and kissed it, closing his eyes to block out everything but her touch.

It was soon impossible not to move. He shifted so that one arm held most of his weight, and with the other hand, reached down to press against her clit, trapping it between his thumb and his cock, as he began to slowly stroke in and out of her body. It was hard to keep just the right angle, but the soft sounds she made urged him to continue.

When her body began to pulse around him, he stilled his hips but continued to caress her with his thumb, watching with as much wonder as if it were the first time as she writhed beneath him and cried out her pleasure, hanging onto him as if she never intended to let go.

So beautiful.

Losing all pretense of control, he moved his hand to take hold of her hip and began thrusting with abandon. In moments, he was pouring himself into her as waves of ecstasy and magic pulsed through him.

Spent, he rolled onto his side so as not to collapse on top of her. She kept a leg hooked firmly around his hip and turned with him, trying, as she often did, to maintain their connection even as he began to soften. He’d never really thought much about that quirk of hers except to note that it was a bit awkward and rarely worked for long. If he had given it any more thought, he’d have assumed she simply found it pleasurable. In this moment, it suddenly felt … more. He tightened his arms around her.

As sleep stole over him, the words she had said and he hadn’t seemed to hang in the air, but not accusingly somehow. She pressed one last, sleepy kiss against his throat, and he felt certain she understood.