Having Faith

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

Timeline (not including prologue): Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

A/N: This chapter contains quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, pages 812 - 816.

As always, I need to thank my two wonderful Betas fuu43 and angrymonkey.

Mein Teil

Chapter 11: Having Faith

The world slowed in front of Faith’s eyes as Sirius collapsed to the ground. A loud clatter filled the room as the Floo powder jar smashed onto the stone beside him. The green dust billowed across the floor.

“SIRIUS!” Harry screamed, rushing towards his Godfather.

Faith turned around and intercepted Harry with her right arm. The kid struggled against her as she dove to the ground, pulling him underneath her. Harry let out a sharp hiss as the wind was knocked out of him. Faith’s head landed hard on his chest, no doubt causing him pain. Above, a red spell smashed into the back of the fireplace. A loud crack filled the air as parts of the fireplace crumpled.

“Get off of me!” Harry yelled, struggling against her before going completely still as harsh laughter filled the room. It was a high and unnatural sound that Faith would have recognized anywhere. It permeated the dungeons and battlefields that she had graced over the years, like the ambience music in movies.

Harry strained his neck to see where it was coming from.

“Bellatrix,” he whispered venomously. Faith could feel the vibration of his words as he spoke through clenched teeth. Still sprawled over him, she watched his eyes darken from loss to hate.

“Poor little baby Harry,” Bellatrix crooned. Footsteps echoed across the stone floor, her heels clicking against the marble as she came closer to where they lay in a heap of arms and legs. Faith slowly crawled up into a crouch, putting herself in front of Harry. She picked up the metal rod that had clattered to the floor moments before. Unfortunately, what she really needed was her gun back, trying to fight a Death Eater with a metal pole was like trying to kill a lion with a toothpick. What she would have given have her gun resting snugly at the small of her back. Scratch that, she needed a rocket launcher - the gun had barely made a difference when fighting Malfoy.

Bella emerged from behind the giant statue in the middle of the room. Robes disheveled, her hair looked as if she’d stuck a finger in a light socket. Faith watched the witch’s lips curve into a smile that screamed malice and insanity. Her wand was out and pointed at them. Harry tried to shove Faith aside, but Faith used her free arm to keep him behind her.

“Grab some Floo powder and go,” Faith ordered him, not turning her gaze from Bella‘s moving form. Hopefully the fine green powder hadn’t scattered so much that there wasn’t enough for one use.

“Like hell I will,” Harry replied, stepping to the side and out of Faith’s reach. From the corner of Faith’s eye, she could see him bring up his wand. Faith resisted snorting, Harry was never good at taking orders.

Bella laughed at his actions.

“Avenging my dear cousin are you now?” she shrieked. “How noble!”

Bella flicked her wrist to the left, sending a bright blue spell in their direction. Faith pushed Harry toward the reception desk and dove after him. He barely had time to react as he slid across the room. The blue light sailed just over her head as she hit the ground.

Fucking wizards and their fucking spells.

“Reducto!” Harry cried from where he had landed. Faith didn’t pay attention to Bella’s reaction, but knew that the witch was more than talented enough to hold her own against a fifth year student. Instead, Faith scurried to her feet and dashed to where Harry had already taken cover behind a desk. The desk wasn’t going to do them a whole lot of good, but it was better than nothing.

“Not good enough Harry!” Bella called, laughter continuing. “And here I had thought that you loved your Godfather. Thought that you finally had found a replacement for your dear dead daddy! Oh my! Poor Harry, it looks like some sort of pattern has emerged! Or perhaps a curse? Or maybe you just get your kicks from watching those around you drop like flies!? Some sort of perverse fantasy!?”

Harry moved out from behind the desk in a flash.

“Crucio!” he hollered.

Faith smiled as Bella screamed. Leaving her position, Faith tried to close the distance between the desk and writhing witch; the metal rod in her hand as she ran. If Faith could just get there fast enough, she could kill the bitch before she had a chance to recover.

Faith pushed her tired muscles to the limit, but as she neared the woman, she knew she wouldn’t be quick enough. Bella was back on her feet in mere seconds. The maniacal yet serene smile that had graced her face moments before was gone. Gone was the taunting bitch. For the first time tonight Bella looked mad as hell. Faith raised the metal rod hoping that she wasn’t too late. Bella was faster. Her red spell shot from her wand and smashed into Faith’s chest. She soared across the room and hit the marble floor hard.

Faith hurt.

Everything hurt. Noises blended together in a thundering clash that had her ears ringing and the world swirled and melted in front of her. She instinctively rolled over onto all fours. Coughs racked her body, the pain increasing with every movement. A metallic tasting liquid that could only be blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

Caught up in her own pain, she was thankful that no other spells were cast in her direction. Bellatrix had probably thought that the spell was enough to take her out of the count for good. Firmly planting her hands on the floor, Faith pressed herself up onto her knees. Her vision had cleared enough that she could see that Harry had taken cover behind the statue that Bella had been hiding behind moments before. He was laughing. It was a desperate sound that made the buzz in Faith’s ears clear.

Bella’s voice rang out above Harry’s laughter, she seemed to be yelling at nobody. “I TRIED - DO NOT PUNISH ME!”

Faith struggled to her find her feet, but remained wobbly and on her knees.

“Don’t waste your breath!” Harry cried back in a harsh voice, his face was flushed and Faith was fairly certain he was hyperventilating. “He can’t hear you from here!”

“Can’t I, Potter?” the voice froze Faith like a deer in headlights. It was cold and high and so familiar it made her stomach roll.

Voldemort.

Her vision came into sharp focus and the sound of her accelerating heartbeat drowned out the outside world. He appeared between Harry and Faith, his back to her. The dark robes and slick skull were images out of many a nightmare she’d had. Across the room she could see the utter horror on Harry’s face. His mouth opened and his eyes widened in panic.

As Voldemort spoke Faith concentrated on getting back up to her feet. She couldn’t leave Harry to fight this monster alone. Faith prayed that his monologue would give her the few moments she needed to gather her strength and attack. If she could catch him off guard, then she could get him.

Faith took a breath as deep as her ribs would allow and staggered up to her feet. Pausing until the world stopped its sudden spinning, she sprinted forward. Moments after she started moving his head turned toward her and with a flick of his wrist she flew past him and into the statue that Harry stood next to. A loud crack sounded as she smashed into the goblin. Her body practically bounced off of the statue and she landed next to Harry.

Fuck was the only thought that Faith could clear her head enough to think.

Every inch of her body burned.

Thinking hurt. Breathing hurt.

It was dark.

Were her eyes even closed?

Faith was vaguely aware that there was someone next to her. She could feel a hand on her shoulder and she heard a voice that sounded as if it were from the other end of a long tunnel. She struggled to lift the eyelids that she didn’t remember closing, and fought against her own sluggish body. Colors swirled until a face came into focus above her. Harry’s hair was a mess and his glasses had a crack through one of the lenses. Flakes of blood and grime covered his skin. His face slackened in a bit of relief as he let out a breath. He gave her a weak smile before turning his attention to the center of the room.

It quickly became apparent to her that they were in a battle zone. Perhaps it was the loud explosions that tipped her off, or the floor shaking underneath her? Or maybe it was the chunk of plaster that just fell on her head? Either way, all of these were good indicators that the reinforcements had finally arrived.

Positioning her weight onto her arms, she tried to get back up and into the action. Her right arm gave out first sending her nose into the floor. Fuck, just what she needed. The heat of the battle and here she was practically useless, and now her nose was bleeding. Thank God Buffy wasn’t here or she would never hear the end of it. Instead, Faith settled on turning her head in the direction Harry was looking. She became a little sour as she noticed a large headless statue standing before them, shielding them from the fight taking place. After all, she was a slayer and should be the one protecting, no being protected by an animated object.

Voldemort was facing them, throwing fire at a man in blue robes.

“Dumbledore,” Faith whispered, realizing just who it was Voldemort was fighting. She didn’t want to admit it, but relief washed over her in waves. Spells moved almost too quickly for Faith to see as objects were transfigured and animated around her. Bits of stone, and dust littered the air around them while spells shot overhead like rogue comets.

It all suddenly stopped as a pool of water enveloped Voldemort. Beneath the water his body appeared even more freakishly snakelike. He was motionless as the water rippled around him before seeming to disappear into thin air. Faith blinked, wondering if somehow she’d missed his escape as the water rained back into the fountain that Dumbledore had taken it from.

“Stay where you are, Harry!” Dumbledore called as Harry took a few crouched steps toward the guarding statue. She did her best to crawl after him, pulling herself weakly across the floor a few feet.

The entire room was in shambles.

The once tall statue was in pieces. Chunks of the ceiling were missing and there were scorch marks marring the floor and walls.

Faith watched Dumbledore scan the room, clearly looking for any sign of Voldemort. Her heavy breathing filled Faith’s ears in the otherwise still room. Across the room she could just make out the sound of Bellatrix’s whimpering.

Harry made an odd jerking motion, and Faith’s ears burned at the scream that suddenly came from him. It was a raw sound. One that Faith had only heard several times in her lifetime. And as Harry flailed around on the floor, Faith hardly doubted for a second that he was dying. Almost roughly, someone bumped into her as they came to Harry’s side. Faith glanced up at Dumbledore, who had pushed passed her and knelt next to the young Gryffindor. Dumbledore called out Harry’s name, but it was barely audible over his screams.

“Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Harry’s screams ended and a high pitched voice spoke, one that Faith knew too well. “If death is nothing, Dumbledore, then kill the boy. . . .”

Harry stilled.

She would have thought he was dead if not for the slight rising and falling of his chest.

Faith let out a breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding and kept her eyes on Harry. He looked even more like shit then he had before. Sweat caked his forehead and his scar stood out sharply against his pale skin, an angry slash for all to see. The trademark glasses that he always wore were no longer on his face. From the corner of her eye, she could see them laying near the broken statue to her right. Faith let her head rest against Harry’s side, immensely happy that he was alive.

“How are you feeling miss?” Dumbledore’s voice was quiet.

“Five by five,” she faintly replied. Harry shifted beside, a slow motion that seemed stilted and pained. He let out a low moan, a sure sign that he was coming to.

Cracks of Apparition filled the air. Fucking wizards, she really didn’t want to deal with any more right now. Hell, she didn’t think that she’d be able to even if she tried. Slowly, her head turned to see who had appeared in the ruined hall. They weren’t in Death Eater garb, and that alone lifted her spirits. The Aurors must have finally arrived. She had only seen their traditional robes a few times. Once Voldemort had come into power, everything had changed - especially everything dealing with law enforcement.

Faith sighed, thinking to herself that it sure as hell had taken them long enough. Leave it to the cops to show up after all the action had ended.

Dumbledore faced the newcomers, his face looking lined and serious. Unfortunately, she couldn’t have gotten up even if she’d wanted to. And considering that she was pretty fucking sure that she wasn’t supposed to be there, she could already taste the trouble. While these Aurors were a huge improvement over the black robed jackasses that she was used too, she really didn’t want to be caught by them. Dumbledore was a smart dude - he must have realized that she didn’t belong. But she’d learned long ago through stories that Dumbledore sometimes behaved strangely. Could she really trust him to get her out of this mess?

At the moment, it didn’t look like she had much choice.

Faith turned her attention to the man who seemed to be the leader. Well, she assumed that he must be the leader. He talked a lot….though it was more complaining and whining then actually talking. She hadn’t actually seen a picture of Fudge, but Ron had rambled on about how useless the man was when she’d seen him last month. This guy seemed to fit the red head’s definition of ‘Inept Minister of Magic.’

Fudge’s main concern seemed to be the state of the building. Dumbledore hardly paid the man any notice as he walked around the room, his eyes stopping at one thing or another. His steps slowed as he approached where Sirius laid. He easily knelt down, making him seem much younger then the color of his hair indicated. Considering that she had just watched him fight an evil wizard using awesome magic that she’d never seen before, the fact that he could kneel shouldn’t surprise her. He gently laid a hand on Sirius’ forehead, remaining still for a few moments. Fudge didn’t seem to notice any of this, he was still complaining and had started gesticulating wildly with his hands.

Dumbledore muttered a few words she couldn’t hear to his fallen comrade before continuing around the room. He stopped once again at Faith’s makeshift weapon. Bending down, he picked it up. He slowly made his way back to Harry and Faith, stepping between pieces of rubble.

“We can finish this discussion after I send Harry and his classmate back to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore replied, interrupting the ranting Minister with a quiet voice that cut like a whip.

Fudge whirled, only now seeing Harry and Faith.

“Potter - What ……What is he doing here?” Fudge sputtered.

Dumbledore knelt down to where Faith had propped herself up on her elbows. Harry had managed to sit up, his glasses once more perched on his face.

“You might want to take this with you,” he said, handing Faith the pole. Now, that he was closer, she noticed that his sleeves where so long that he gripped the pole through the fabric. She took it, confused, but still smart enough to know that now simply wasn’t the time.

Dumbledore quickly picked up a small chunk of plaster from the floor.

“Portus,” he said. The rubble glowed blue for a second in his hand before returning normal. Dumbledore discretely handed the plaster to Faith with a wink. She had a feeling that his wink meant that he wanted no one else to see it. Fudge could be heard sputtering nonsense about in the background, so she was pretty sure he didn’t notice anything.

“Take this,” Dumbledore said gesturing to the spare piece of plaster. “It will get you back to Hogwarts.” Faith clutched the rubble tightly in her hand, not quite sure what his scheme was, but following along none the less. “Hold on to her, Harry. I will see you both in half an hour.”

Harry grabbed Faith’s left arm in a tight grip.

Dumbledore turned back towards Fudge and began to speak, his voice cutting out quickly as they whirled away.

Faith absolutely hated traveling by portkey. Even though she had been sitting on the ground before she took hold, she still managed to land hard on her ass.

“Fuck!” she shouted as her broken ribs jostled about inside of her. Faith groaned and laid her back onto the ground. Her eyes slid close. The stone floor was hard and cold against her skin. It felt good to be able to just lay there. She let the plaster roll out of her hand with a soft clunk. She didn’t bother to pick it back up.

Harry had let go of her arm as soon as they had landed but she could still feel his presence near her. After a few moments she heard movement and knew immediately that the boy had moved away.

Faith kept her eyes closed. The weight of failure slowly sank into her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the teenager who she could hear slowly moving around the room. Would he even speak to her again? And what about Ron? Harry had put so much trust in the two of them and they had failed miserably. There hadn’t been a whole lot of people in her life that trusted her. Ron, Harry, Giles and Mayor Wilkins. That was it. Faith wasn’t ready for her mere list of four to change to three.

Should she say something? Then again, what could she possibly say? Fucking-Ay! She sucked at this sentimental bullshit and hated how the entire situation could have- no-should have been avoided.

Faith opened her eyes and let her head fall to the side. Harry stood in front of the window. Although she couldn’t see his face, there was no doubt that his expression was one of misery. She watched him for awhile as he stared at the predawn sky. The boy barely moved in the time he stood there.

“Harry. . . .I’m -” Faith never finished her sentence, her body erupting in a sudden coughing fit. She turned over to keep from choking on her own tongue.

“What is - Ah Mr. Potter,” a voice said from somewhere within the room. Faith quickly got to her feet before swaying and almost tumbling back down again. She braced herself against the arm of a chair as she scanned the room for the unknown voice. “And who do we have here? I do not think we’ve been introduced before. I’m Phineas Nigellus Black, former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And who might you be?”

“Uh,” Faith said rather ungracefully as she looked at the portrait before her. Oh, she knew that they could talk, but it always unnerved her a bit to hear it. “. . . . Lara Croft.”

Faith pointed to the blood splattered name tag that was still attached to her shirt.

The portrait glanced between her and Harry, seemingly trying to make his mind up about something. Faith never quite understood these talking pictures. Could they actually think complex thoughts or were they more like a recording of some kind? Fucking creepy if you asked her.

Phineas’ voice must have drawn Harry out of the daze he was in. He ran a hand shakily through his hair. More of the portraits seemed to be coming awake now. They asked questions, their voices overlapping as more woke up. Harry and Faith remained quiet. The boy shifted, seemingly not liking that the portraits had taken notice of him.

Faith watched as Harry went to the door and tried to open it. Locked or magicked shut, the door refused to budge. The handle clanked and groaned as he tried to force the door open by sheer strength alone.

“Dumbledore probably wants to talk to us before he lets us go,” Faith felt like she was stating the obvious. Harry barely gave her a glance in return.

“Dumbledore?” said one of the other portraits. “He’s coming back? It’s about bloody time. It’s been so boring since he’s been gone.”

Questions began to pour out about Dumbledore then, but she paid them no mind. Instead she focused on Harry who stood with his back against the door and stared at his feet below. He looked like shit, and had leaned forward slightly to rest his head on the door. Cut up and covered in both his own and others blood, his clothing was dirty and torn. But in all honesty, his messy looks were nothing in comparison to the look of devastation that marred his face. His misery rolled off of him in heavy waves, crashing against her and forcing her to admit repeatedly to herself that she had failed. Faith knew that look, had seen it in Ron after Hermione died. At that time, there was nothing she could have said or done to ease Ron’s hurt. A pit settled in her stomach. This time wouldn’t be any different. Whatever words she said to Harry would just sound hollow and forced to him. Despite that, Faith owed him an explanation, she had to try.

“I’m sorry Harry,” she said while she had the confidence. “I tried, but I fucked it up.”

Harry didn’t look up from his shoes. He didn’t even give any acknowledgement that he had heard her. There was nothing else that she could say, so she shifted her weight and examined the room around her.

Dumbledore’s office was something else. Shelves were full of books, random Muggle things, jars containing stuff that Faith couldn’t make out, and objects that made Faith think of Da Vinci’s invention sketches.

A whooshing from the fireplace grabbed her attention. The flames sparked green as Dumbledore strolled through. He looked much older than he had an hour ago while fighting Voldemort. Wrinkles stood sharply out from his pale face and dark circles had formed underneath his eyes. He walked slowly into the room. Paintings throughout the room called out greetings to the Headmaster as he made his way past them.

“Thank you,” was all that he replied back, giving them a quick glance as he walked. Faith silently watched as he made his way past her to a perch in the middle of the room. From out of his robes, he pulled out what looked like a baby chick and placed it in a tray of ashes that hung below.

Faith didn’t get where the bird had come from, but she had stopped questioning the insanity of wizards long ago.

Harry stayed where he was and watched as Dumbledore moved back to his desk.

Dumbledore glanced between the two of them before letting out a sigh and taking a seat. His eyes lingered on Faith.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I’m sorry but I don’t know much about slayer healing Ms.-”

Faith wanted to laugh at how the word slayer rolled off of his tongue. It was so natural, like there was no doubt in his mind of what she was. It wasn’t much of a surprise that he had figured it out though. After all, it was a very logical conclusion considering she didn’t have a wand, and he knew that someone from the Watcher's Council has taken interest in Voldemort.

It took a moment for Faith to realize that he was waiting for her to provide a name.

“Croft,” she replied. “Lara Croft.”

“Madam Pomfrey should be able to take care of those wounds for you,” he answered with a slight nod. “The other students are with her right now. All of them should make a full recovery.” The last sentence was directed more at Harry than her.

Faith nodded. She thought about rejecting the offer but decided against it. Her slayer healing would still take a week or so and she would be sore as hell. Might as well take the help while it was offered. Plus, if she walked into the Council building looking like she did now, Giles would pitch a fit.

“Now Ms. Croft I would like to speak to you before the night, or rather morning is over, however Harry and I need to have a much overdue conversation,” Dumbledore said in a soft but firm voice. “I trust that you will still be here in a few more hours?”

He phrased it as a question but there was no questioning tone in his voice. It was clearly an order. Faith nodded again. It was better to speak to him here and now instead of having him try to track her down at the Council headquarters. And Faith had no doubt that he would do it if she ran away tonight. Besides, Faith did want to speak with Ron before she had to leave. No doubt the poor kid would probably take the failure even harder. She took another glance at Harry. He was watching Dumbledore with blank eyes. After everything that had happened in the previous month, there was a good chance that the conversation between Harry and Ron was not going to be pleasant.

“I’m sorry my dear, but you do not look fit enough walk to the hospital wing,” Dumbledore said as he walked back to the fireplace. “Have you ever Flooed before?”

“Yeah.”

Faith let go of the back of the chair she had been using for support; trying not to take offense at his statement that she looked like shit. She took one step and stumbled. Damn it, she could at least walk to the fucking fireplace. Thank God Dumbledore remained quiet, she probably would have yelled at anyone who offered to help. Instead, he tossed Floo powder into the fireplace and said the password and destination. She resisted rolling her eyes; it wasn’t like she was considering Flooing to another destination or anything.

The hospital wing was a scene of almost chaos. All of the students that had traveled to the Department were amongst the beds. Considering at least three of the patients had substantial injuries, it appeared that Pomfrey had had to enlist some of the other Order members for help. Faith took a brief look at them and quickly realized that she didn’t recognize a single one out of the four that were helping the healer. Two of the members hovered at Hermione’s side. One was rubbing some sort of paste onto her neck while the other held the jar. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; the guy holding the jar could probably find something more productive to do. Another member was wrapping Ginny’s foot in what looked like gauze. Pomfrey was currently casting spells over Neville with the last of the four Order members by her side. Pausing after her spell finished, she barked an order to a man with brown hair to go check on Ron.

Faith wasn’t sure if she should say something to call attention to the fact that she was there or not. Instead, she settled for hobbling her way to an empty bed and taking a seat. It was a few minutes before someone noticed that she was there. As the man left Ron’s side to return to Pomfrey, his eyes flickered to her and he stumbled. He whispered to the nurse and her sharp eyes picked Faith out quickly. She shooed the young man in her direction. Wonderful.

She smiled weakly at him as he approached.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. If he was curious about who she was he didn’t ask, and for that she was grateful. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “Are there any serious injuries?”

He waved his wand to perform some kind of spell but Faith stopped him by gently grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t worry about me just yet,” she replied. “Fix up the kids first.”

He smiled in thanks and practically ran back over to Pomfrey.

Faith leaned back against the wall and watched the healer work. Other people came in and out of the room. She saw Snape deliver potions before disappearing. A women with red hair Flooed in practically frantic. One look at her and Faith could only guess that she was Ron and Ginny’s mother. No one paid the slayer much attention, which suited Faith just fine. She let her mind wander to the conversation that she had to have with Dumbledore in the next couple hours.

Faith was worried. From everything that she had heard about the man he was sharp as a tack and could easily read between the lines. Faith had never been good at either.

She couldn’t help thinking that she was fucked.

What she really needed to do was talk to Giles.

“And what’s your name dear?” Faith’s head shot up at the question. Madam Pomfrey stood next to her, clearly tired but still committed to helping. Everyone else must have been stabilized.

“Lara,” she answered.

Faith remained still as Pomfrey ran her wand up and down Faith’s body. Frowning and muttering to herself the entire time. Faith fidgeted. She was suddenly grateful that the necklace with the glamour spell was still around her neck. The last thing that she needed was the woman to recognize her. While she didn’t think that it would affect the taste of any of the potions that would be shoved down her throat in the next hour or so, there was no need to take chances. Faith distinctively remembered Ron telling her that Pomfrey seemed to take joy in feeding nasty potions to students that managed to get on her bad side.

“I’m surprised that you were able to even walk on your own,” the witch finally said with a tsk. “Six broken ribs, a tear in your left lung, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, not to mention that multitude of small half healed wounds that still have shards of glass embedded in them. You are a very lucky girl to not be dead.”

“Lucky, yep that’s me,” Faith replied dryly.

For over an hour Pomfrey muttered over Faith and fed her potions. None of them tasted good. However, the most painful part was the removal of the glass; she was so not going to go rolling through shards of glass again anytime soon. Her torso was now wrapped in gauze. Faith wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to do. After all, hadn’t the nurse fixed her up so why does she need the bandages? Pomfrey had practically demanded that she take off the glamour necklace while the nurse had been wrapping her up. But that was one fight that Faith was not going to lose. After plenty of forceful words on both their parts, Pomfrey had given up with an angry huff and had gone back to work.

Faith’s awesome pants and sweater had been scorgified and transfigured into the standard infirmary wear. She wondered if she’d be able to get them fixed later. A kick ass outfit like that was hard to find.

It had to be almost breakfast by the time a very tired Harry Potter and the Headmaster walked into the infirmary. The sun was just breaking through the windows. Harry rushed over to Ginny’s side, the girl had only woken minutes before, she was the only one besides Faith who was conscious. Madam Pomfrey made her way over to Harry. After only being near him a few moments, the healer started clucking her tongue and ordering Harry into a bed so she could check his status. Grudgingly, he crawled into the open bed next to Ginny. The Headmaster smiled at the red headed girl and stopped to assure her that everything was okay before lowering his head to talk to the Pomfrey. After their short conversation he made his way over to Faith.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked, then continued before Faith could respond. She seemed to be getting that a lot tonight. “Poppy said that you healed up well but should be sore and off of your feet for a few more days.”

“I’ll be fine,” Faith replied.

“That’s good to hear,” Dumbledore said. “Madam Pomfrey was kind enough to excuse you for a few hours as long as there isn’t much walking involved. I told her that we’d Floo to my office. I hope that is reasonable. I assumed that we would both want as much privacy as possible for this conversation.”

She nodded.

Faith went first and was followed quickly by Dumbledore. His office was in shambles. All of the nick-knacks that she had noticed earlier were broken with pieces strung about the room. Various pieces of furniture had scorch marks on them. Thankfully though, the couch was still in one piece. Harry must have really gone off on the guy.

She limped as quickly as she could to the couch. Sitting down felt better, but what she really wanted to do was lay down on this sucker. Somehow though, that just seemed plain rude. Unfortunately, good first impressions had never been her forte. Faith decided that she should focus on not completely fucking this up.

“Lemon drop?” the elderly man offered her. Faith didn’t really want one, but in the name of not fucking the meeting up, she nodded anyway. One of the candies, levitated its way over to her as he plopped one into his own mouth and took a seat. She tentatively sucked on the candy. “I must say Ms. Croft, your arrival was a very surprising development in the war against Voldemort. The Council has been very hesitant to intervene in wizarding affairs for some time now.”

Faith nodded and wondered how Giles would handle this situation. The man knew how to rub the head honchos the right way. The lemon drop that she was sucking on slide down her throat at her movements and Faith coughed and heaved painfully. Okay, so Giles would probably not choke on the candy. He was going to be so pissed at her when she got back.

“Are you -” Dumbledore started.

“Fine,” she wheezed out once it was dislodged. Faith bit into the candy, chewing it rather loudly. She was not going to make that mistake again.

Dumbledore continued once she had finished.

“The Ministry is unaware of your involvement and I for one would like to keep it that way,” Dumbledore picked up from where he had left off. “I have a feeling that they might overreact to this situation if it came to light. They were lead to believe that Harry was with another student when Voldemort attacked. While the Ministry might be fooled, I do not think that we will be so lucky when it comes to Voldemort. While the other students will be more like meddling flies to him, you will probably be something else. The fact alone that you were able to walk away from a fight that would have surely killed anyone else will be enough to peak his interests. He will be adamantly searching for any information that he can gather on you.”

Faith nodded. He could search all he wanted too, the truth wouldn’t come easily.

“I have to say, it is rather exciting to be working with a slayer again,” Dumbledore beamed. “I had the privilege of being one of the last wizards to fight along side the Slayer in battle during World War II.”

“Yeah,” Faith replied, barely able to contain herself from asking questions. Past slayers were not something that she had heard about often, unless it was pertaining to Buffy. “I bet that fight was something awesome.”

After watching Dumbledore fight Voldemort, she could just image the damage that the guy could do in his prime. And then, to have one of her girls by his side - the team would have kicked some major ass.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” Dumbledore quietly answered before changing the subject. “She was rather disagreeable; you however seem to have a much more pleasant deposition.”

Faith snorted. That was certainly something that she had never been told before. After all, she wasn’t known for being the good slayer.

“Does Mr. Giles know you are here?” Dumbledore asked.

“No,” Faith replied quickly. “At the moment, I’m on my own.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. Giles knew that she was going to fight in the war against Voldemort. He just didn’t know any of the battle plans. Hell, there was a good chance that Giles had already pieced together a crap ton more than Faith wanted him too. She wouldn’t be surprised if when she got back, the first thing Giles did was explain how he figured everything out and lecture her on how stupid her and Ron’s plan was. More things for her to look forward to. Splendid.

“Look, we both know that Voldemort needs to be stopped,” Faith said trying to be diplomatic. “And I’m here to help out.”

There was a knock on the door before Dumbledore had a chance to reply to her. He motioned with his hand and the door opened. The familiar figure of Snape came into the room followed by a blond boy. She recognized him right away, it was Malfoy Jr. What was his name....Draco? Ah yes, that was it.

If possible the student was even paler than he’d been before. He followed Snape silently with his head held high.

“Ah, Severus,” Dumbledore stood from where he was seated at his desk. “And Mr. Malfoy.”

“Headmaster,” Snape replied.

Draco remained quiet, but his eyes widened a bit as he noticed that she was there and that the room was a complete mess.

Dumbledore moved out from behind his desk.

“Is everything in order?” he asked.

“It is,” Snape said. “I have spoken with Draco about Flooing his things to him at a later date.”

“Yes, yes,” replied Dumbledore. “Best to get home as soon as possible. Will you be accompanying him Severus?”

“Yes.”

“Please give my condolences to Narcissa then,” Dumbledore said before turning to Draco. “These next few month will be very difficult for you. However, I am sure that you will be able move ahead, with your head held high. If you ever need anyone to speak with, know that my ears are always open.”

Draco curtly nodded before making his way to the fireplace. Snape followed a few steps behind him.

Together they left in a blaze of green flame.

“Mr. Malfoy’s father passed away tonight while at the Department of Mysteries,” Dumbledore said, watching the green flames die down.

Faith couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her face.

“The Ministry is under the impression that Malfoy died while battling with one of those who came to help the children. Since he was dressed in full Death Eater regalia, the Ministry is trying to sweep the death of a prominent board member under the rug without the details of it coming to light. If he had been caught alive, he would be facing Azkaban. We are lucky that the current Ministry is more focused on how to save their government’s face then finding out who Malfoy Senior was dueling with.” Dumbledore turned towards her giving her a know all look.

“He was Death Eater scum,” Faith gruffly replied, not questioning how he had realized that it was she who had killed the man. “He deserved it.”

“You are correct in that he had made some poor decisions in his life,” Dumbledore said. “But no man is beyond redemption.”

Faith lightly snorted but kept her thoughts to herself. She did not want to dwell on what he had said. After all, she was a reformed convict. She knew that others had thought the same things about her. That she was scum and worthless. They had compared her to a rabid dog that needed to be put down or steered in the direction of enemies. But even after all she had been through, there was no way that she could feel sorry for Lucius fucking Malfoy. She knew it was hypocritical of her, but she really didn’t give a flying fuck.

“Keep the ‘Soup for the Soul’ speeches to yourself old man,” she muttered back. She wasn’t in the mood to reflect on her past decisions. And she really wasn’t in the mood to compare herself to Malfoy.

“So, how well has Ron informed you on the situation with Voldemort?” asked Dumbledore after a few moments of silence. Faith’s head shot back in his direction. She didn’t remember saying anything about Ron. He must have seen the surprise in her face. “It was not to difficult to figure out that you were the one he left with not that long ago.”

“He’s told me enough,” Faith replied.

“Ron’s condition was very curious, wouldn’t you say?” Dumbledore commented. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind sharing some details, now would you?”

“Visions.”

“Something like a slayer’s prophetic dreams?”

Faith shrugged.

“I have met a few people who claim to see the future,” Dumbledore continued. “And not a single one of them has been like Mr. Weasley. The more I think about Ron, the more I realize that he reminds me of a dear friend of mine, Marty McFly. Mr. McFly’s knowledge of the future almost got him killed, several times. In fact, the man was lucky that he didn’t do any irreparable damage to the timeline.”

The name tugged at her memory, but for some reason she couldn’t place it. Maybe Ron had mentioned him before, or something?

“Look, Ron knows the consequences of fucking this up,” Faith spoke forcefully. “And believe me, even if we do fuck this up….the way we’re heading now, the future ain’t no paradise.”

“I suppose he knows that better than anyone else,” Dumbledore said. “Except maybe for you.”

“The joys of being a slayer,” sarcasm dripped from her lips.

“I’ll be seeing you around, I take it?” Dumbledore asked, even though Faith knew that he knew what her answer would be.

“Yeah.”

“Wonderful. I look forward to working with a slayer again,” he almost clapped his hands. “Now, it’s getting rather late - or perhaps I should say early. Either way, it has been a long night and I am sure you would like some rest. I would be more than happy to put you up in one of our guest quarters for the evening.”

Faith almost denied him right there but stopped as she opened her mouth. This was her first attempt to show the Headmaster some good will.

“Yeah whatever,” she said trying to sound nonchalant. “Madam P’ll probably want to see me again anyway in another couple hours.”

“Excellent,” he smiled. “I already had one of the House Elves make a guest room ready for you. Feel free to sleep and we’ll talk some more later. Unfortunately, tomorrow will be exceedingly busy and I doubt that I will have time to speak to you before you leave.”

Faith nodded. She knew what he was saying - there was no way in hell you’re leaving here without giving a forwarding address.

“If you contact Ron, he’ll know how to get a hold of me,” Faith answered. It was better to leave Giles out of this, especially since she just said that he didn’t know anything about the situation. Hopefully, telling the Headmaster that Ron could get a hold of her wasn’t going to come back and bite them in the ass.

Ron was supposed to already have his mell. Willow had originally told her that it would be done in two weeks, and that had been nearly a month ago. Apparently, something had came up that had kept that poor girl occupied. Faith had barely convinced her to take time away from her schedule to make the glamour necklace. If Faith hadn’t already known they wouldn’t have a crisis in Slayerville for another year, then she would have thought it was an apocalypse.

Faith couldn’t help that she’d been a busy girl this past month. Between meeting with her new boss about her duties, which weren’t all that much considering that she was working off her own schedule, and meeting with Robin to work on her appeal, she hadn’t spent much time around headquarters. Oh, and it didn’t help that the time she had spent at headquarters mostly involved long hours in the library looking up possible leads on Horcruxes. Then there was the apartment hunting, which had been a total bitch. Who knew the apartments here were all ridiculously expensive or dilapidated and smelly? At least she was able to live as a Muggle in London.

Faith sighed, realizing that her mind was getting way off track.

“I suppose I’ll be seeing ya around,” she said to Dumbledore, hoping to close the awkward conversation quickly.

This seemed as good a time as any to head out. It sounded like she was being dismissed. She wanted to fall into her bed, but knew that wouldn’t be possible until she’d done a few things first. Giles had to be called, even though Dumbledore had said that the Ministry suspected nothing, she wanted to make sure she was able to explain everything before anyone else did.

Faith shakily got to her feet.

“You might want to take this with you,” suggested Dumbledore, motioning to the pole that still laid untouched from where she had left it before.

“Excuse me?” Faith replied, clearly confused by the man’s suggestion.

“You will probably need it in the future,” he smiled, turning to the fireplace and grabbing some Floo powder.

Faith gently picked the pole up from besides the couch. What the hell was the old man going on about? It was just a metal pole that she had found in a disturbing storage room. Had Dumbledore done something to it? She turned it around in her hand. Nope, it still looked the same. Same creepy ass runes. Same color. Same cold metal feel.

She walked, more like hobbled, after Dumbledore. Faith used the pole like a cane, not knowing what the old man meant by ‘needing it later.’ The green flames were already sparking wildly waiting for her entrance.

She stepped through and into a large bedroom. Faith peeled off all of her clothes and fought the urge to throw herself into bed. That would only hurt like a bitch. Instead she gently slid underneath the blankets and relaxed into the mattress, realizing moments later that she really needed to call Giles before catching some zzz’s. Groaning, she got up and found her pants that she had discarded moments earlier. It took a few minutes of searching in all of the pockets before she realized that her phone wasn’t there. Crud, that’s right. She’d left it at her apartment, afraid that it would be damaged in the fight. But honestly, just how many people could have called with pressing matters that needed to be attended to immediately? Her guess, not many.

Tossing her pants back to the floor, she climbed into bed once again.

Sleep came fast.

-oOo-

Even before Ron opened his eyes he knew that he was in the hospital wing. It was the smell, the sterile stench that always seemed to cling to his nostrils. He didn’t panic though, after waking up in strange places often, he had developed the habit of waiting to panic until he’d remembered what he’d been doing before going to sleep.

The memory came in a flash. He had been at the Department of Mysteries. He could feel his heartbeat start to race.

Ron opened his eyes to a room full of light. It had to be midday, at least, the battle had probably been over for hours. He searched his memory quickly, trying to figure out just what had happened. The last thing that he remembered was fighting with Harry and Neville at his side. He didn’t even see the spell that had taken him down. Whatever happened after was a complete blur.

Turning his head, he could see that Neville was a few beds down to his right. Harry and Ginny sat in chairs next to him, conversing with the boy in the bed. Harry looked tired. Ron had a feeling that he hadn’t been able to sleep at all since they had gotten back. Ginny’s ankle was wrapped in gauze. He wasn’t sure what the gauze stuff was called, but knew that it helped give broken bones nutrients that they needed for healing. He had worn them a few times, and hoped that her ankle was the only body part wrapped in the stuff.

Ginny was the first to see that he had awoken. She poked Harry who abruptly stopped his conversation with Longbottom and looked over. A stream of emotions flew across Harry’s face.

Anger. Pain. Relief.

Ron’s stomach churned. He didn’t even have to ask what had happened last night. It was written all over Harry’s face. Sirius was dead. Ron had failed. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat up and felt his chest tighten painfully. Ron had been so certain that he could save Sirius. He resisted the urge to break something. It was probably a good thing that the only object in his reach was a pillow.

“Ron,” Harry’s voice startled him. He looked up to see that he was no longer alone. Harry stood next to his bed, looking young and tired. Ginny remained near Neville, trying desperately to look like she was not paying attention. She continued to half-heartily engage Neville in conversation, though he was certain she wasn’t listening at all to the other Gryffindor.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, the two of them remaining quiet for long moments. It was an uncomfortable silence, but Ron couldn’t bring himself to start talking or look Harry in the eyes. He kept his gaze down and focused on fiddling with the blanket in his fingers. He could feel Harry shift on the bed beside him. The air was thick with tension. Ron waited for Harry to explode, could practically hear all of the words that his friend would say. Ron had failed.

Failed.

There was no way to describe the misery that clogged up his throat and tasted like ash. Sirius was dead, and Harry had every right to hate him.

This was not going to go well.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly stuttered out. The words tasted bitter. He took the chance to look up.

“Did you know what that prophecy said?” Harry asked. His voice was quiet but hardly calm. It was edged with sadness, or maybe acceptance. Ron considered lying. Actually he knew that lying was the smartest thing to do, but he couldn’t do it anymore. Harry hated him and lying about the matter was just going to make the gap deeper.

“Yeah,” he responded in a voice that was barely audible.

“And we still went?”

Ron nodded, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Why?”

The question was simple, but it hardly had an easy answer. In fact, Ron had been asking himself the exact same thing for months. Why should they go? Why should they risk the lives of their family and friends for something that Ron could have just as easily told Harry in the first place?

“Would you have believed me?” Ron asked, trying to find the words to explain. “I mean sure, you might have said that you believed me, but would you have truly believed me? How was I supposed to tell you something like that and make you understand? I know how much faith you have in divination, even after what had happened our third year. I’ve been sounding wonky enough as is.” He finished rather lamely, his voice stuttering out as he glanced back down at his hands.

“But that wasn’t the only reason?” Harry pressed, his voice getting quieter as he moved closer. “Not after all of the secrecy rubbish that we’ve been through over the last few months.”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, swallowing. “I knew what Voldemort could do to your mind. And if I had told you, and he had gotten to the information, then I just……..I would have failed. And all of this would have been for nothing.”

“Which is why you insisted on the Occlumency,” Harry finished Ron’s thoughts for him.

“Harry,” he looked up. “Some of the things in my mind he can’t know. It would be utterly disastrous if he ever found them out. I know I’ve told you this already, but I….I hope you understand.”

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes. Ron didn’t blame him. The poor guy had a lot of information to process.

“It’s just,” Harry began after a few minutes only to pause again. “All of this,” he waved his hand around. “All of this destiny stuff. All I ever wanted was to be a normal kid. But I can’t, and I guess I was just fooling myself trying to believe that it was possible.”

“I know,” Ron replied. “But how could I ever explain that to you? You deserve to have a normal life Harry, and I didn’t want to be the one to take that away. I didn’t want it to be taken away at all.”

Harry remained silent, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“You try telling someone that they’re going to die,” Ron quietly said. “How could I tell you that if things continue in this direction, then we’re all going to die?” His throat closed as memories surfaced, and Ron pushed them away quickly.

“If we’re all going to die, then why this?” Harry asked. “Why are you here then? To rub it in my face? If it’s all up to destiny, then how the hell are we supposed to stop Voldemort?”

It was a loaded question. One that did not have a simple answer. It was a question that he had asked Faith before. He decided to answer Harry in practically the same way that she had answered him.

“There’s this woman named Buffy,” Ron started. “When she was sixteen, she was told that she would die by the time that school year was over. Like you, her life was prophesized. And when the end of the school year came, she died - drowned actually. But one of her best mates had followed her that night. He pulled her out of the water and brought her back to life with CPR. Without her friends help, she would have stayed dead.” Ron paused, letting the words sink into Harry’s head. “I’m….we’re….not going to give up on you either, Harry. I believe that what happened to me was a way to cheat the system, like she did.”

Harry gave him a disbelieving look.

“Just don’t tell Faith or Buffy that I told you that story,” Ron laughed lightly. “If it ever got back to Buffy that Faith was using the story of her first death for inspirational speeches, Faith would kill me.”

Harry nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Instead, he stood up and walked out of the infirmary. He still looked lost, still looked worn and tired, but Ron didn’t know how he could fix anything concerning Harry anymore. He didn’t even know if he should try.

“What did you say to him?” Ginny asked from across the room. Her voice was heavy with suspicion.

“Nothing,” Ron answered. “He just needs some time to think.”