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 17


When she stepped out of the Hogsmeade House fireplace, the first thing Celia saw was Severus’ back. Not surprising, considering he’d come through right before her. Except he wasn’t moving.

Stepping sideways a bit, she saw why: he had his wand trained on Spike. Ahead of him on the other side, so did Harry.

Spike wasn’t paying attention to either of them. When he noticed her, however, his gaze locked on her.

“So, Spike, you still nuts?” she asked.

“No,” he muttered.

“He’s doing better,” Willow said from somewhere out of Celia’s line of vision.

“Forgive me for being unimpressed that the vampire is less insane,” Severus drawled, his wand not wavering.

“Hey, for Spike, ‘less insane’ is about as good as it gets,” another male voice chimed in. It took Celia a second to place it.

“Xander?” she asked stepping the rest of the way out from behind her human shield. “What are you doing here?”

She kept her eyes on Spike. If they were letting him free around a non-magical non-Slayer without bloodshed, he was probably safe. Probably. His eyes stayed locked on her, but he didn’t attack.

“Giles wanted a Watcher here,” the one-eyed man replied. “Willow convinced him the odds of avoiding a major explosion were better if he sent someone other than himself.” He nodded in Severus’ direction.

Okay, but why send Xander? I can think of at least three others that would make more sense.

Being around Xander was weird. She’d built up enough of her own experiences and memories with Giles that they sort of outweighed the Willow memories. But Buffy, Dawn, and Xander … they were a whole different story. She’d trained under Buffy for a little while, but in a group of fifty other neo-Slayers. Dawn she’d talked to a few times when she’d needed expert translation help with something really obscure. It was never quite enough to get past the weirdness entirely, but at least they both treated her like any other Slayer. But Xander … she’d only met him a couple of times, and he’d obviously been really uncomfortable around her. That didn’t mesh well at all with her best-friendy memories and probably bothered her more than it should.

“And Spike’s under control?” Celia asked.

“I’d feel better if he had his electronic choke-chain back …” Xander started.

“He’s been fine,” Kennedy interrupted. “So how’s about you two lower your wands, and we’ll see if he stays fine.”

“Room’s full of Slayers, witches, and wizards. Don’t see what you lot think I can do anyway,” Spike grumbled, hands jammed in his pockets.

Harry sheathed his wand slowly. Severus took a bit longer with his.

“We may be required to bring you to this Seer since you heard that bit of prophecy,” Severus said in a low and dangerous voice, “but if you make a single move like you did yesterday, I will incinerate you.”

“Not gonna drink any more of your bird’s blood,” Spike retorted with a scowl. “Gave me a hell of a bloody hangover.”

“Good.” Severus finally put his wand away.

Celia considered pointing out she could incinerate Spike just fine all by herself but then decided it wasn’t worth it.

“So, um, introductions seem kinda beside the point now,” Willow said. “Or am I supposed to do them anyway?”

“I think we’ve figured it out,” Harry answered, holding his hand out to Xander. “Pleased to meet you, Xander.”

“Likewise. Always happy to meet more people who like to point wooden things threateningly at Spike.”

“Hey!” Spike finally took his eyes off Celia to shoot a glare at the two young men.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Harry continued, “have you ever considered getting a magical replacement eye? I have a friend who uses one, and he can see straight through all kinds of things. I’d think that’d be useful for one of you Watcher types.”

“Nah, I’m not so much with the magic,” Xander replied. “About all I can manage is abra…”

Celia and Willow turned as one to glare at him, and suddenly Xander couldn’t speak. He scowled at them both. Willow released him first, and he proceeded to emit several grunting noises around his tongue, which was still glued to the roof of his mouth.

“You going to finish that little bit of stupidity?” Celia asked.

Xander shook his head. She released the spell.

“What the hell?” he demanded. “It’s not even a real incantation!”

“No,” Willow agreed. “But it’s a mangled version of a real one, and you know that.”

“You also know,” Celia said, “that there is a very good reason you’re ‘not allowed to speak Latin in front of the books.’ And let’s not forget the love spell from hell.”

He shuddered theatrically. “It’s so creepy when you do that.”

For once, she was just as glad to have weirded him out. With the amount of free magic floating around Hogsmeade, there was no telling what he might accidentally do.

Severus was watching the interplay with interest, though his eyes darted frequently back to Spike. Celia thought he was probably wondering what they were talking about and most likely getting kind of impatient about it, but Harry saved him the trouble of asking.

“Wait, if you can’t do magic, then what’s the big deal about saying a fake incantation?”

“Xander can’t do magic on purpose,” Willow explained. “Even having someone else do a spell on him can backfire pretty, um, spectacularly.” Her cheeks reddened, and Celia was afraid her own might, too. “But, um, he seems to be able to pull off the occasional spell by accident. No point taking chances with a fake incantation that’s just a little off from a real one. Especially that one.”

“So, let’s get him to Caritas, then,” Celia said briskly, wanting off this subject in a hurry. “And Spike for that matter. None of us can do any damage there, intentionally or otherwise.” She and Willow quickly cast the “Nothing To See Here” Charm on the group as a whole. Anyone who saw them would find them too nondescript to notice. Well, anyone but Lorne. He seemed to be immune to that sort of thing.

“Great idea,” Kennedy said, putting her arm around Willow, who already had hold of one of Spike’s arms. “So which one of you is taking Xander?”

“I guess I am,” Celia replied. Could we not maybe use a Portkey instead? Oh, right. Permits and crap. Easier to get caught with a group using one that’s not authorized. Damn. “Seeing as how I’m the only remaining magical person who’s known him for more than five minutes.” She didn’t like the idea of Willow doing a double Side-Along Apparition with Spike, but it didn’t make sense for Severus or Harry to take him either. And she wasn’t quite uncomfortable enough with Xander to offer to trade.

“Have I mentioned lately how much I hate Apparating?” Xander asked.

“Probably,” she replied. “Just not to me. Hang on tight, okay?”

“Am I going to lose a hand for that?” he asked, clearly looking at Severus.

“Hey,” she snapped, “worry more about what I’ll do to you. And no, not so long as you hold on where you’re supposed to.”

“And that would be …” He waved his hands in the general area of her waist.

“Not anywhere that you’re not supposed to.”

“Right.”

Celia rolled her eyes and put his arm around her waist, firmly ignoring any disturbing memories, and waited while Severus Disapparated first, then Harry, as they had arranged, then closed her eyes, focused on the destination they had been given, turned, and Disapparated them both.

~ ~ ~

When he arrived at the bank of the dark, dirty river, Severus barely restrained a sneer. He had thought never to come to this part of the world and his past again. Clearly selling his former home last year had not been enough to avoid any need to return.

He climbed the riverbank and looked across the road where once had stood rows and rows of brick houses including his own. In their place, now, was the foundation and beginning framework of some large store surrounded by an enormous car park. He did not recall the name of the store. It was no matter: the check had long since been cashed, converted, and deposited in Gringotts.

Potter arrived as he was taking this in but did not immediately climb the bank to join him. Celia followed with Mr. Harris, who nearly jumped away from her upon their arrival. He could see that she was scolding him, but the wind carried her voice away, so he didn’t hear the reason for it. She didn’t actually appear angry, merely annoyed, so he decided to take no notice. For now. Willow and her wife followed shortly, and then the group came to join him atop the riverbank.

“Okay, the abandoned mill I get,” said Willow. “The middle of nowhere, not so much.”

“It’s like the anti-Cleveland,” Celia agreed. “Guess he was looking for someplace with lots of demons and few people, except a. why the demons and b. once that’s built, there will be lots of people.”

“There is some Dark magic here,” Willow pointed out. “It’s faint, like it’s been gone awhile, but it’s here. Doesn’t feel like enough to attract much in the way of demon activity though.”

Potter shot him a look, but Severus shook his head slightly. They all crossed the road and began to walk towards the old mill. When they reached the corner of the new car park that had once been the site of the last house on Spinner’s End, he saw Celia finally register what her teacher had picked up from nearly a half mile away. She stopped in her tracks, looked around, and then looked at him curiously for a moment before turning to continue walking towards the mill. Had she picked up the signature of his long-dismissed wards? If so, she was clearly not going to ask about it now.

As they approached the abandoned mill, its monstrous chimney looming over them, he saw a change come over her. Her stride and her posture, always confident, became notably more so. The vague traces of worry that had marred her features of late were replaced by a grim look of determination. This might be his former hometown, but she was the one who appeared to be returning to familiar territory.

That this was true became even clearer when they entered the mill and came face to face with a green, horned demon wearing a loud purple suit. He had drawn his wand, as had Potter, before either of them registered that the other four were not only unalarmed but smiling. Slowly, both wizards re-sheathed their wands.

“Whoa!” said the demon. “Good thing those new and improved Anti-Aggression Charms are up and running.” He gave the others a reproving look. “Did you maybe forget to mention a thing or two to your guests?”

“You know how the automatic reactions go, Lorne,” Celia said. “I knew I was going into a demon bar the first time, and I was just as bad.”

“Ah, yes, those were the days, my friend,” the demon replied. If Severus was not mistaken, the demon cast a look that was not at all nostalgic at the vampire as he said this. “So, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Willow stepped forward. “Lorne, this is Severus Snape and Harry Potter, like you didn’t already know. Severus, Harry, this is Lorne. His name’s really much longer, but I can never remember it, and nobody ever uses it.”

Severus nodded his acknowledgement. He saw that Potter actually shook the demon’s hand.

“Always a pleasure to meet an Auror who doesn’t hex first and ask questions later, Harrykins,” the demon said before turning to acknowledge Severus. “Ditto for you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous.”

Severus snorted.

The demon turned to Celia, “So, what brings you here?”

She raised an eyebrow in an eerie if clearly unconscious imitation of himself, Severus noticed, as she said, “You got here in less than eight hours from Beijing without knowing why we were coming? I find that a teensy bit hard to believe.”

“What, I can’t just miss old friends?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and Severus wondered whether she was taking exception to his use of the word “friends” or his apparent disingenuousness. Perhaps both. He noticed that the vampire appeared outright amused.

“Well, Willow wouldn’t have T.P.’ed me from out of nowhere if it wasn’t important.”

The redhead nodded as if to concede the point.

“Lorne,” Celia said, “you have been so spectacularly neutral since LA that I’m surprised the Swiss haven’t offered you spontaneous citizenship. You weren’t surprised Willow contacted you. You dropped everything to travel halfway around the world. This tells me something is up. You going to try and say otherwise?”

“Oh, it is,” he agreed. “You’re right, I don’t take sides. Except if you don’t get this situation under control, going home to Pylea might start to look like a good idea.”

Now both her eyebrows appeared in danger of becoming permanently lost in her hairline. What was Pylea?

“So, let’s get down to business, then,” Celia said. “First off, what’ll it be, pounds or Galleons?”

“You wound me,” the demon said, placing his hand over his heart. “Also, shouldn’t that be her line?” He indicated Kennedy.

“Usually, yes,” Celia agreed. “But for once I’ve got a job that actually pays half decently and no living expenses, so this one’s on me.”

Startled by that, Severus found himself scanning over his memories of various conversations they’d had. She had always managed to avoid any mention of how she supported herself or, more likely, was supported prior to coming to Hogwarts. He would have to ask her about that later.

“Pounds are much more spendable around these parts,” the demon said. “I’m pretty sure my manager would prefer them.”

“Pounds it is then. This should take care of the cover and a deposit against our bar tab.” She handed him a few notes. Severus wondered when she had had the opportunity to obtain them. “Next, who do you need to hear from?”

The demon looked them all over and replied, “All of you.”

That is not going to happen.

“Um, Lorne, you sure?” she asked, looking a trifle nervous.

“What, you think Xander’s just here for the ride? Of course all of you,” the demon replied with a wave of his hand to encompass the group. “But if you want to check, you could start by giving me a few bars of any old thing.”

She appeared to think a moment, then crossed her arms and sang.

“Do you bury me when I’m gone?
Do you teach me while I’m here?
Just as soon as I belong,
Then it’s time I disappear.”

Severus wasn’t sure which bothered him more, the song she had chosen or her apparent tin ear.

The demon looked at her shrewdly. “So is that what you think your mission is?”

“Impossible?” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “It better not be. No, that song’s been stuck in my head all day, considering it was supposed to start out with me pulling a disappearing act.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Belong?”

“Is this therapy or part of the reading?” Celia was scowling now.

The demon gave her an unimpressed look.

“Lovely,” the vampire muttered. “So you’re still all with the mysteriousness. That’ll be helpful.”

“Can we at least go in and sit down?” Celia asked, gesturing to the door beside him and the barroom beyond it.

“Not until you answer.”

She looked uncomfortable. The demon waited. Potter gave Severus a questioning look, to which he merely shrugged.

“No,” she said at last. “I pass, mostly, but ‘belong’ would be stretching it. A lot.”

The demon looked oddly pleased. Severus, on the other hand, was dismayed by her assessment.

But how could she feel otherwise? Even Muggle-born witches and wizards are normally introduced to our world by the age of eleven. She is in her mid-twenties and has only lived in our world a few months.

“Good! So you’re up for a bit of self-examination and even honest about it. You’re going to need it, honey.”

“So all of us?”

“Yep. You’re at the center of all this,” the demon said pointing at her, “and you heard the prophecy,” he continued, pointing at the vampire, “but I need all the pieces of the puzzle.”

Her eyebrows shot up again.

“I may be the Slayer-in-charge, but I’m so far from actually calling any of the shots it’s ridiculous, Lorne. How could I be at the center of anything?”

“All in good time.” The demon’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe you have what it takes for this one, do you?”

She shrugged. “Usually magic’s my advantage. Now I’m on the other side of the looking glass or possibly down some rabbit hole, and not only is it just another tool, but everyone’s got it.”

“Huh,” Potter said. “I never thought of it that way.”

The one-eyed Watcher looked him over measuringly. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. Kind of like knowing about electricity and cars probably gives you an edge in the wizarding world, but spend ten minutes in the Muggle world and you’ll see how much of an advantage that isn’t.”

“That’s only part of it,” the demon argued, ignoring the two men. “You think you’re going to have to retake a test you believe you’ve already failed once.”

Celia’s expression became so cold that the temperature of the room itself seemed to have dropped several degrees. Severus wondered what this test was to which the demon referred.

“Half the reason we’re here,” she said, “is to get answers that will prevent things ever getting that far.”

“Well,” the demon said briskly, “let’s see what we can do about that. Now, let’s leave all the hardware out here.”

“If this place is so super-anti-violenced, why do you need our weapons?” Kennedy asked.

Well she might, not having any magical powers to rely upon.

“Part of creating sanctuary, my dear,” the demon replied, holding out his hands to receive a rather impressive arsenal from Kennedy, Mr. Xander, and Celia. Oddly, he did not ask for and thus was not given any of their wands. He opened a safe in the wall and tucked the weapons inside. Celia looked at the safe strangely as it became once again part of the wall.

“Now, about your performances,” the demon said as he gestured them into the dark and hazy club.

This demon will either find a way to accomplish this reading without compelling me to sing in front of a bar full of demons or else he will discover his Anti-Aggression Charms are … insufficient.

~ ~ ~

When she returned to the table and took her seat next to Severus, Celia thought she had never felt so relieved. Waiting to go last doesn’t exactly make it easier. She looked to Severus warily, wondering how he’d respond to the rather bizarre song she’d just sung. If you could call that singing. Since when does Lorne go changing things like that?

He merely lifted an eyebrow at her. On his other side, Harry and Xander were talking animatedly about something, and past them, Spike was staring at her unnervingly until Kennedy elbowed him.

“May I remind you whose idea this was?” she replied to Severus’ unspoken comment, inwardly relieved that he didn’t look offended, angry, or otherwise negatively affected by it all. Well, Lorne did let him get away with humming about two bars of whatever that was. Guess he’s too busy being relieved.

When Lorne joined them, sitting between Willow and her, she cast a quick Muffliato et Labbroscuro with a boundary set just outside their table, followed by what had become the standard series of anti-eavesdropping charms, then said, “I really, really hope that Cassandra Charm is as good as you say it is for keeping people out of each other’s readings, Lorne. Never mind the actual reading, the songs themselves were pretty damned revealing.” Not to mention that the Notice Me Not Spell they’d cast earlier had been shattered once they’d started going up onto the stage to take their turns singing.

“You picked up on that, did you?” he asked.

“Oh, gee,” she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let’s see. We started off with some songs by American female artists and moved on to a bunch of British male vocalists, never mind the content of some of the songs themselves. Which, hey, makes sense up to a point, considering we’re mostly American women and British men, except then there’s Xander. And I don’t know if everybody else got to sing what they picked, but I sure as hell didn’t pick Madonna.”

She also certainly hadn’t picked that song. Okay, the song itself was all well and good, but the video was notorious because it was about the Klan, for Goddess’ sake. Let’s see, a bunch of violent bigots who run around in robes, hoods, and masks, and leave an unmistakable calling card. Obvious, much?

“Wait, Duran Duran’s British?” Xander asked. “What? I’m kidding,” he added with a chuckle when the other Americans glared at him.

“You’re imagining things, Slayer. Nobody made me sing The Police. I just wanted to,” Spike said with a shrug. “If the machine didn’t play what you wanted, you must’ve just hit the wrong button.”

“You did catch the reason I switched you to Madonna, didn’t you?” Lorne asked, somehow managing to both ignore Spike and contradict him all at the same time.

“You mean Madonna herself and not just that song?” Oh, he has got to be kidding me! “That’s so far off track and into the future – the potential and by no means certain future – that I’m not even thinking about thinking about it,” she snapped. Not that that isn’t an encouraging idea, because it sounds like he’s suggesting I’ll be sticking around here awhile. Maybe even … but it is way too soon to think about that possibility. I’ve got enough to do trying to keep the living alive and the dead dead. Assuming that’s even what this all is about. Which is the whole reason we’re here: to find out what’s really going on. We didn’t come here for a reading on my love life! “Please tell me you got what you needed from all that.”

“Oh, absolutely, sugar. But you’re going to need something stronger for this.” He waved to the bartender.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, picking up her glass of stout. She watched Lorne mouth “Firewhisky” and added, “He can’t see your mouth.”

“What?”

“One of the spells I used makes it so if anyone hears us, it just sounds like indistinct buzzing, and if they try to lip-read, our mouths are too blurry.”

Severus looked interested in this modification. Had she forgotten to tell him about it? Well, she’d only come up with it this afternoon.

“You realize you don’t actually need to do all that,” Lorne protested.

“Obviously you’ve forgotten just how intense Slayer paranoia can get,” Xander said. “It’s generally best to just go with it. Otherwise they get testy.”

“Can’t say as I disagree,” Harry put in. “Constant vigilance and all that.”

“I’ll drop it so we can order another round or whatever,” she said, shooting Xander a quick glare and catching a subtle eye roll from Severus, “but can we get on with it then?”

She released the spell, and Lorne had another round brought for them all, including a full bottle of Firewhisky. Once the bartender left again, she reinstated all of the spells.

“Now, spill,” she said.

“First, I have a few questions for you,” he replied, as he poured her a glass of the Firewhisky and set it down next to her pint. She passed it to Severus, who actually liked the stuff. As he had barely sipped his own, she figured it would be awhile before he got to a second glass. He nodded at her encouragingly, and she returned her attention to Lorne, who suddenly sang, “Why-y-y-y-y don’t you use it?”

She glared at him. “I’m guessing you won’t accept a nice simple answer like ‘I don’t want to end up in Azkaban or any other magical prison’?”

“Of course not.” He laughed and then looked at her seriously. “If you were really worried about the legal aspect, you wouldn’t go around casting Unforgivables on unsuspecting Muggles.”

She slammed her glass down, sloshing some of the beer onto the table. “That is a gross misrepresentation!” Why is he baiting me? This has nothing to do with anything!

“You mean you didn’t stick a half dozen Muggles under the Imperius Curse?”

She could almost feel Severus and Harry staring. Willow, Xander, and Kennedy just winced. Spike laughed and tossed a piece of popcorn up into the air and caught it in his mouth.

“Of course I did,” she snapped, “and I defy anyone to take an objective look at that situation and call what I did ‘unforgivable’ by any meaningful definition of the word.”

“You took away their free will,” he insisted.

“They didn’t have access to their higher brain functions, much less their free will! I couldn’t shield them indefinitely, I needed them gone so I could kill the thing, and they wouldn’t run, so I made them. If I hadn’t, they’d’ve all been eaten.” She forced herself to take a deep breath.

“I don’t see how that was any worse than just shoving them out of there,” Kennedy piped up. “Magical or not, that’s what any of us do. Rule number one: get the humans out of danger.”

The others nodded. Celia shot Kennedy a little smile of thanks, and Kennedy just shrugged.

“So there are situations where you’ll justify the use of Dark magic,” he pressed, sounding way too much like a lawyer making a case.

“Obviously.” You know, he says he wants to forget Wolfram & Hart ever happened, but he sure managed to pick up a few things.

“It’s still just a tool,” Willow said. “Okay, a slightly more dangerous tool that you frequently don’t want to let go of when you’re done with it, but when that’s what’ll do the job, that’s what you use. And she knows how to let go, Lorne. You know I taught her that.”

“And a good thing, too,” Lorne replied. “After all, the Killing Curse is her weapon of choice, isn’t it?”

Celia rolled her eyes then. “Well, yeah. Same as it is for every Slayer-witch. It’s quick and clean for the demons it does work on. Hostile demons,” she added, holding her hands up in mock surrender before he could take offense. “Anyway, that’s better all around than hacking them to bits, when it’s an option.”

“But you’re the only one who routinely uses it on demons that you don’t already know whether it works on.”

“You what?” Severus asked softly, his expression dark.

She shrugged. “I have a good track record for not killing myself in the process. Obviously.”

“Why?” Lorne asked, taking another sip of his sea breeze.

“Why is it obvious?” Spike asked. “Um, besides the fact that she’s sitting here, talking to you? You’re losing your touch, you can’t figure that out, Mr. Psychic.”

“No,” Lorne replied to Celia rather than Spike. “Why do you have such a good track record?” He gestured with his glass to the two wizards. “For those here who don’t already know.”

She shrugged again. “Lucky, I guess. I mean, the ones that just absorb it are no big deal. It doesn’t work, you move on to your next option. The ones that it ricochets off are tough because it’s hard to be sure where it’ll bounce, but at least you can see it. Plus that tends to happen to the ones with armor plating, so we mostly don’t even bother trying it with them. It’s the ones that rebound that are really risky.”

“What’s different about them?”

She wondered where this was leading but decided to humor him. It wasn’t as though there was any point to not humoring him, after all, stubborn demon that he was.

“Well, first, there’s no way to predict which ones will do that. And when it does happen, it comes back exactly along the trajectory of the original curse, but it’s weird looking and hard to see. It’s sort of a clear vortex-looking thing. And it’s fast. I doubt anyone without Slayer reflexes could get out of its way fast enough.”

“Even some Slayers.”

“Yeah.” And thanks so much for the reminder that half the Slayer-witches we’ve lost basically killed themselves. Is that what he’s getting at somehow?

Beside her, she felt Severus stiffen.

And isn’t that going to be a fun conversation later.

“How did you know that was what it was, the first time?” Lorne asked.

“I didn’t,” she said. “But considering it was traveling back along the same line where I’d just sent a lethal curse, getting the hell out of the way seemed like a good idea at the time. When the wall behind me exploded, that kind of confirmed it.” She took a gulp of her beer. “Is there a point to all this?”

“So it’s not that you’re afraid of using Dark magic at all, and it’s not that you’re afraid of taking risks. So, sugar, why is it that the Redheaded Wiccan Wonder had to twist your arm to get you to test out your best weapon on someone besides her?”

She seethed for a minute before replying. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Do you? And do you know what it took for her to get me to undo it? You must have read all that, too.”

“Yeah, I do,” Lorne replied. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “I also know that you didn’t have to go along with her. The only reason she can put an Imperius on you at all is that mental link you two have, and you can still throw it off. But you chose not to.”

Celia darted a look at Harry, who had been oddly quiet through all this. He was giving her the Big Bad look again.

Lorne pushed back into his chair. “If you don’t start trusting that you can do whatever it takes to get the job done and still come back from it, you’re not going to get the job done, Celi-kins. Not this time.”

“Have I not been saying that?” Kennedy asked. “Have I not been telling you you’re tying one hand behind your back?”

“Sweetie,” Willow said.

“No,” Kennedy interrupted. “Okay, yeah, you pushed her into it once. But has she practiced any more since then? You can’t have an awesome weapon like that lying around and not make sure you’ll be ready to use it when you need it.”

“Actually,” Harry said, “she has.”

Kennedy looked dumbfounded. Celia winced.

Great. One more thing she’ll get pissy about being left out of.

“Well, not exactly,” Harry continued. “But she’s been teaching Snape and me how to do it and how to defend against it.”

Kennedy scowled. “That isn’t the same thing at all.”

“But it’s what I have her doing,” Willow said firmly.

“And it’s not enough,” Lorne countered.

Celia took a deep breath and let it out slowly, exchanging a look with Willow and then Kennedy before looking back at Lorne. “Does that mean you’re finally going to tell me what we’re dealing with? Since you apparently know what we’ll need to use to handle it?”

“You already know what that is,” he said. “Spiky-boy might be crazy, more often than not really, even on a good day, but you can trust what he told you. And what he showed you.”

She crossed her arms and sat further back in her chair, hoping that would keep her from visibly shivering at that confirmation. “So, step one, sever the links,” she said in a calm voice as she noticed that Lorne was looking at Severus. Why? I mean, why not both of them? Why would he focus on …?

“And you’re staring at him because …,” Xander said, holding a hand out palm up as if to invite Lorne to finish the sentence.

“If a potion was the answer, I’m thinking that would have been solved before now,” Celia said, taking a wild guess. “Also, not so much having to do with everything you’ve just been quizzing me about.”

Lorne reached over and took her left wrist, turned it so that the faint scar from yesterday was visible, and said, “Not without the key ingredient.”

She snatched her arm back, a chill stealing over her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Willow demanded.

“Why do you think Spike’s mark disappeared? Why do you think he could only recognize you as real?”

“I don’t know, but I’m thinking you’d better tell me if you do. Because a dose of Slayer blood doesn’t explain that. At all.” Something suddenly felt very wrong. She wanted nothing more than to get as far away as she could and forget they’d ever tried coming here.

“Yeah. I mean, he drank some of mine, too, but he didn’t get all weird then,” Kennedy said.

“No, it has nothing to do with you being a Slayer, but it does have something to do with who you are.” Lorne released her hand and set his own on the table next to his now-empty glass.

She narrowed her eyes. “You said I didn’t need to know.”

“You didn’t,” he agreed. “Not then. But you do now.”

“Why? Why is it relevant now?” The urge to get up and leave was getting worse by the second. Somewhere in a corner of her mind, a small door rattled ominously.

“Because you’re here, and because they’re looking for you. You hold the key to what they want.”

The rest of the room seemed to have dropped away along with the bottom of her stomach.

“I’m ‘the girl’ from some ‘ancient line’?”

“Didn’t I say that just yesterday?” Kennedy asked.

“Actually, I think that was Willow,” Spike replied. “Anyway, I could’ve told you that. Bloody obvious, really.”

“The fact that you got all psychotic and fixated on a Slayer would never make anything obvious,” Xander muttered.

“Once you found out you weren’t Muggle-born,” Lorne continued, ignoring the others, “didn’t it ever occur to you, what with the timing, that your powers were bound when you were left with Family Services?”

“Obviously. I mean, it was either that or they gave me up because I was a Squib, and you’re not supposed to be able to tell that early. Why else didn’t I have powers until Willow’s spell? Though how someone who had magic could think Cleveland was a bright place to leave a kid without any, I’ll never know.”

“It was the perfect place,” Lorne argued. “With the amount of magic and demonic activity surrounding the Hellmouth, really, the only better place to hide you would have been Sunnydale.”

She blinked several times trying to assimilate this. A swig of beer didn’t help.

“That’s … okay, I can buy that one or both of my parents decided their kid would be safer as an anonymous Muggle, either because they were just freaked by everything that was going on at the time or because they were personally in danger. But you’re saying that like anyone would have actually come looking for me.”

“Oh, they would have, if they’d known you existed.” Lorne picked up his glass and waved it at the bartender, who brought him another.

Willow crinkled her nose and asked, “Why? I mean, really, she wasn’t the baby being targeted that year. We might not know her exact birthday, and it’s almost certainly not really September 15th, but unless the doctor who examined her was completely incompetent, there’s no way she was ‘born as the seventh month dies.’ So why would anyone have gone looking for her specifically?”

Celia nodded.

“Not because of that prophecy, you’re right.” Lorne took a sip of his drink. “Celia, your mother was a half-blood witch by the name of Selena Hunt.”

She took in that bit of information and almost missed Severus’ reaction. It was slight, but he tensed at the sound of her name. She glanced at him questioningly, but all she could see was that he was disturbed. Harry didn’t look any different, so apparently the name didn’t mean anything to him.

“She was captured by Death Eaters,” Lorne continued.

“And raped,” Celia supplied, suddenly feeling hollow somehow. “That … that’s always a strong possibility when you’re given up like that. I’d hoped it wasn’t true.”

She interlaced her fingers and rested her elbows on the table, leaning her head against her hands.

I came up with so many other reasons why someone would leave their kid in a locked office in a fancy baby carrier with pretty clothes and toys. Everybody always mentioned the clothes and the toys, so I’d know that it wasn’t that she didn’t care about me. They didn’t understand that made me afraid she’d come take me away from Mom and Dad someday. If I’d known that was why she gave me up, maybe I wouldn’t have been so afraid. Obviously she couldn’t stand to look at me because I must take after him. Except that wasn’t the whole reason, was it? Lorne said she was hiding me.

Her thoughts were going in circles, she knew. She felt a reassuring presence brush against her mind and looked up at Willow gratefully, giving her a weak smile.

Lorne continued, “She wasn’t supposed to survive. She wouldn’t have without the help of the man sitting beside you.”

She whipped around to look at Severus, who looked as though he needed to be reminded to breathe. “Is that true?” she asked.

He swallowed the whisky he had just sipped and looked at her steadily.

How can he be so calm about this?

“It is. I was ordered to dispose of her. That was … not long after I had gone to Dumbledore to renounce my prior actions.” He drained the rest of his Firewhisky in one swallow and set it aside.

Or possibly calm is the wrong word. Maybe this is what he’s like when he’s shocked. Maybe I look calm, too, instead of frozen like a deer in headlights.

“I hid her for several days, gave her potions to heal her, and then brought her to a member of the Order. I had no idea she was pregnant,” he finished.

She all but gulped. Obviously he hadn’t even known she’d been raped, or he would almost certainly have given her an abortive brew just in case. Hadn’t she told him? Were the rest of her injuries too severe to put her through that? Whatever the reason, I’m glad he didn’t know. This … is weird.

“How could you possibly get away with that?” she asked, deciding to focus on something a little safer. “Didn’t they know when she didn’t turn up dead?”

“She was not a high profile victim, and at the time, I was not a high profile Death Eater. It went unnoticed.” There was a forced evenness to his voice.

She took a moment to digest this, looking at the man she loved, the man who had saved her life before she’d even been born. No wonder she’d never been able to distrust him.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “For both of us.”

He nodded stiffly. She waited to see if he would tell her who it was that had raped her mother, but he didn’t. Did he even know? When it was clear he had no more to say, she turned her attention back to Lorne.

“Is that … is that what this weird magical energy thing is?” she asked. “My life debt to Severus? Debts.” I must owe him two. One for each of us. Or does it work that way?

“Not exactly,” Lorne replied.

“What magical energy thing?” Willow asked. “You never mentioned a weird magical energy thing.”

“And here I thought girls … I mean, women … told each other everything,” Xander said with a smirk.

“Because if there’s a weird magical energy thing going on with you, you should’ve said something, Celia.”

*You, of all people, should understand the need to have something that’s just mine.*

“I guess we can talk about that later,” Willow said with an understanding – but stern – look.

Kennedy looked smug.

Probably glad to see that Willow and I really don’t share every damned thing. Well, good.

“Maybe.” Celia turned back to Lorne. “So, was the ‘ancient line’ my mother’s then?”

“No,” Lorne replied, not meeting her eyes. “No, that comes from your father’s side.”

She let out an exasperated huff. “You planning to drag this out much longer, Lorne? Because I’ve got loads more questions, and my patience is already shredded.”

“You really ought to try some of this whisky …” He picked up the bottle and gestured to her with it.

“Lorne! How bad could it be, really? I mean, okay, I wouldn’t be thrilled to find out I’m a Malfoy or a LeStrange or whatever other psychotic it could have been, but whoever it is, and why-ever it’s so important, I need to know if that’s what’s going to help us figure this out.”

“Oh, it is. Until you know the source, you won’t be able to use the key yourself, much less control how anyone else might try.” He set down the whisky bottle and swirled his own drink around, looking at it as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself that she needed to know.

Why doesn’t he want to tell me? What the hell is his problem?

“Then tell me already, Lorne. Enough with the riddles – just spit it out!”

“Funny you should put it like that,” he said, still not looking up from his drink.

“Put it like what?” she demanded, slamming her hand down on the table, utterly exasperated. “All I said was enough with the …” And the penny dropped. “… riddles?”

Lorne finally looked at her and nodded sadly.

“Oh.”