Miles to Go

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or BtVS. They belong to KJ Rowling and Joss Whedon.

Wow. It's been a long while since I've updated. Been really busy with RL so this has gotten pushed to the sideline. I apologize for that. This chappie isn't beta'd so there may be typos and things. My beta hasn't gotten back to me for about a week and I got anxious and decided to post it anyway. Hope you enjoy! :)




The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Robert Frost



She checked her wristwatch for the fourth time in the past 15 minutes.

12:35PM blinked back up at her.

A few of the patrons of the little tea shop kept staring at the use of the obviously muggle timepiece. She'd glared right back at one she'd caught gawking this time; an older gray haired woman with a green overly extravagant hat. The older woman looked frightened by the confrontational look and quickly averted her eyes back to her folded up copy of the Daily Profit.

Faith growled under her breath in frustration.

Spike had assured her that Narcissa would be here. He'd said that the younger Death Eaters liked to make snide comments about snooty old 'Cissa and her weekly shopping excursions. They said that even with her husband in prison and her son facing a suicide mission, she still never missed her afternoon trips to Diagon Alley. They said that she probably didn't even care about what they were going through, 'the heartless frigid witch'.

Faith pushed the sleeve of her robe back over her watch and looked to the door contemplatively. The waitress came by a few moments later and set some little biscuits at Faith's small corner table.

"Refill, miss?" The young woman asked holding up the teapot in her hand, gesturing to Faith's cup. Faith blinked and stared down at her teacup. She hadn't even noticed it was empty.

Setting the cup down on the table she nodded absently. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

The woman smiled thinly, before filling the cup and quickly scuttling away to serve another customer.

Apparently Mrs. Malfoy was running a little late.

Faith glanced at the reserved table across the small cafe right by the window. Spike had said that according to his sources, she came by here for an afternoon tea every time she went out. Faith had no idea that Spike would be so good at this spy shit. Color her impressed.

Hopefully he was putting those James Bond-like skills to good use and finding out just what the Hell Voldemort was getting up to with his crazy self. Like what was so interesting in New Zealand? And how were they going to rescue Gru? The poor guy had been on his death bed according to Illyria. Blue had even sounded concerned about him. Which was interesting, too say the least.

Faith had subtly mentioned Cissy's name to one of the waitresses when she'd come in. The waitress had given a disgusted look to Narcissa's reserved table and said the woman would come in to have her tea at precisely 12:30 every Tuesday. She specifically requested to have the same seat by the window reserved for her and her alone.

Sighing she reached for a biscuit. She'd just come back from St. Mungo's a few hours ago. Raven had woken up this morning. The girl was still in a lot of pain, but she'd been making jokes and laughing by the time Faith had left her with Giles and a few of the other Slayers, so she must have been getting better. Giles was none too happy at Raven's condition and had given Dumbledore and Sirius an earful. He'd done the same to Faith too, but not quite as harshly once he'd seen she was blaming herself harder than Giles ever could.

She also couldn't help feeling it was fault that Raven was in that bed. She wouldn't have even been there were it not for her. Of course, Raven could have just as easily been killed at the Cleveland Hellmouth. That was the life of the Slayer, whether there was one, two, or hundreds.

Both Giles and Faith knew all too well how dangerous a Slayer's life was. They understood that bad things happened when they were least expected. But it didn't mean either of them had to like it. And she was glad that Giles hadn't gotten complacent about any of the Slayers getting injured or killed. If the Head of the Watcher's Council had been more like Giles and less like that pretentious cold-hearted prick Quentin Travers when she'd been younger, maybe her life could have been a little less shitty.

Faith set the half eaten biscuit back down on the plate with the others, her usual appetite seemed to have left her. Raven had been understanding when she'd told her about Draco and how Faith was going to help her cousin even though he had nearly killed her. If it had been her, Faith doubted she'd have been so blasé about it.

The door chimed and Faith lifted her eyes slightly to catch the newcomer out of the corner of her eye.

"Bingo." Faith whispered under her breath.

Narcissa Malfoy entered the shop and all eyes turned to her, some in fear, others in disdain. Faith, however, could feel nothing aside from pity. She looked completely different from the last time she'd seen her with Snape. She looked nearly as bad as her son. Her eyes seemed duller and her hair, which had been finely coiffed the last time, now lay limp along either side of her head. Despite the minor psychical aspects that were difficult to hide, Narcissa still did a relatively good job of appearing unaffected Faith would give her that. Apparently, that was something else that ran in the family. Pretending to be okay. Five by five, Faith thought to herself bitterly.

Cissy went to her spot at the window, ignoring all the other occupants as she took her seat. Faith chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe she should have thought this through. What was she going to do? Just walk up and say, ,'Hey, my name's Faith. I'm here to rescue you'?

Somehow she didn't think that would work.

Faith sighed and rubbed her temple. She was never any good with plans. Just walking up to Draco's mom and dragging her back to Diagon Alley wasn't exactly the most brilliant scheme she'd ever devised. That's what Watchers were for. Thinking up the clever ways to defeat the bad guys and save the damsels or dudes in distress. Slayer's were the muscle and the Tweed Brigade was responsible for handing them a stake and pushing them in the right direction.

"Ah, Hell with it."

Faith picked up her food and headed toward her aunt's table. Some of the customers gave her odd looks as she walked toward Narcissa, but Faith kept walking as thought she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped at Narcissa's table. The woman hadn't noticed her approach.

"Mind if I join you?"

Narcissa jumped slightly at the unexpected intrusion. She looked up at Faith like a deer caught in the headlights. Faith quickly took a seat before Cissy had the chance to reply. She sipped at her tea, leaned back casually in her chair and stretched with a loud groan. She looked back at Narcissa with a smirk.

"Can you believe the weather we're having?"

Narcissa looked far too startled to even consider being angry. The older woman glanced around with a flick of her eyes to see that everyone in the cafe was now looking in their direction. Her eyes found Faith again and they were filled with confusion. Her mouth gaped open like a old castle drawbridge, then clamped shut several times before words finally managed to excape her, "W-What are you doing?"

Faith set down her tea and crossed her arms in a semi-relaxed fashion.

"I'm just trying to make conversation. Isn't that was people do? Talk about the weather?" Faith shrugged, "It was that... or talking about sports. And I didn't peg you as a Sox fan. And I just can't wrap my head around that Quidditch crap. Bunch of people flying around socking each other in the head with different sized balls...bet Sigmund Freud would have a field day with that shit."

After several seconds. Narcissa seemed to finally break free of her stupor, her face morphing into a well-practiced sneer. "You're that woman I saw with Severus. That crass American woman."

Her aunt raised a single unimpressed brow at her and it looked as though she wanted to say more but didn't want to say something unbecoming of a lady of her stature. Narcissa probably wanted to call her a mudblood like her son was so fond of doing. Faith hadn't been in the Wizarding world long enough to be offended by such a curse, so it didn't upset her.

Also, there was the whole issue that it wasn't true. And if it were, then both Draco and his mom would be mudbloods too.

Faith laughed lightly under her breath, "I was beginning to wonder if you remembered me," she leaned in across the table, "And the name's Faith, by the by."

"Faith." The woman's eyes widened slightly at the name, "So you're that hunter they brought into Hogwarts. My son's been telling me how worthless you are. Not that I'd suspect anything less with Dumbledore still in charge. And I can see Draco was right, you don't look like any sort of vampire hunter I've ever seen. I suspect the only type of man you meet in the middle of the night are the type that pay you money."

There was a silence between them for several seconds and was quickly broken when Faith let loose a gut-wrenching bellow of laughter. This caused several people in the cafe to turn in their direction yet again. Once she'd finally stopped laughing, she shook her head appreciatively at the older woman, "Wow, 'Cissa. Looks like someone's got their claws out today! Yikes!"

"Why are you talking to me?" Narcissa growled from across the table, clearly frustrated that insulting her unwanted guest wasn't having the desired effect.

"Why not?" Faith popped a biscuit in her mouth and kept talking much to Narcissa's dismay, "Look-ud like yoo nee-dud a fu-wend."

"A friend?" Cissy looked stunned that Faith would ever have such presumption, "Do you have any idea who I am? Why would I want to be friends with you?" She eyed Faith with complete disgust.

Faith glanced around to see that most everyone had gone back to their own business and those that hadn't were out of earshot.

"You people and you're social class bullshit." Faith sighed but then her face turned serious, "But I supposed that's the thing isn't it? Who you are. Who I am." Faith stated vaguely.

"What are you going on about? I don't have time to listen to this. Leave me alone." Narcissa waited expectantly for her to leave.

When Faith made no move to leave her table, Narcissa got up from her seat in a huff. She made her way to the door and Faith let her go, but followed her outside not soon after. It wasn't too hard to find her in the street, they were mostly empty nowadays anyway. Only a few brave souls and those too stubborn to do otherwise went out anymore. Good thing Cissa hadn't dissaparated, or this complete non-plan would have been completely FUBARed.

"Cissy, wait!" Faith called after her, the nickname had unintentionally slipped out. It had just felt so natural that Faith found she simply couldn't help herself. The older woman ground to a halt her heels spun to face Faith. Her face red with anger.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but stop treating me as if we bloody know each other! I don't know you! We are not friends! You don't get to call me anything besides Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy!"

Faith walked slowly toward her, as if toward a cornered frightened animal.

"But we do know each other, Cissy." The woman looked ready to argue, but Faith stopped her by pointing to the ice cream parlor a few blocks down, "You used to take me down to Florean Fortesque's for ice cream whenever I'd come visit."

Narcissa sneer faltered slightly at the unexpected words, "What are you talking about? I never took you anywhere."

"Yes, you did. You took me there when I was good...okay, lets face it, even when I wasn't." Faith laughed lightly, "And I, heh, I used to- I used to get like 4 different kinds of ice cream and make the ice cream guy mix them all together into one giant bowl. And even though you told me not too, I would pour almost the entire jar of chocolate jimmies on top of it. And I'd get ice cream all over my face and in my hair..."

Narcissa was staring at her with eyes so wide they looked like they just might fall right out of her head.

Faith continued, "And you'd always tell me that I needed to 'act like a lady', and that if I kept eating like a heathen you'd stop taking me." she smiled genuinely, "But I only did it because when you'd see me like that, with the ice cream all over me...it was one of the few times I'd actually see you smile. And I liked making you happy."

Narcissa started to walk closer to her, her face fighting a battle between going deathly pale and showing complete utter disbelief.

Faith closed the distance between them until the were within less than an arms length, "And I still do. You know."

"That's impossible. You. You're not... she's dead." Narcissa started to look at her more closely than she had before, when she'd thought Faith was nothing more than some boorish American girl.

"I guess Potter's not the only kid who's hard to kill." Faith shrugged.

"This has to be some kind of trick." Narcissa said the words, but didn't look like she particularly believed them.

"No trick, Aunt Cissy. It's me."

Faith's devil-may-care attitude started to falter. She may not have always known that she'd had a family besides the bitch of a woman who raised her, but there had always been an emptiness there in her heart. And she remembered almost everything now. Or more accurately... she remembered as much as anyone could when they reflected on their earliest childhood memories.

Her Auntie Cissy had been one of those voids she'd felt while growing up in Southie. Not the biggest one, certainly. Surely that honor went to her mother and father. But it had been there, all the same.

Narcissa glanced around the nearly empty street suspiciously and then beckoned Faith quickly into a nearby alleyway so that they'd be out of sight of anyone passing by. Faith followed and Narcissa examined her even more closely.

"Eris, is that really you?"

Faith nodded slowly.

Her aunt gaped at her, "But how?"

"It's a long story...but it's not important right now. What is important is that I came to protect you. Because I know what Voldemort asked your son to do."

Narcissa gasped and glanced around as though the Dark Lord might pop up any second. Faith tried really hard not to roll her eyes.

"Right, the name thing. I keep forgetting about that. Anyway, where was I? Oh right, Draco. Are you honestly let him go through with this?" Faith crossed her arms.

"The Dark Lord gave my son an order, he has to obey it....It's the only thing he can do." Narcissa said, clearly defeated. It seemed the woman had been beating herself up inside more than Faith ever could.

"The only thing? Really?" Faith looked at her skeptically, but her voice a bit less confrontational.

Her aunt frowned, "If Draco doesn't do this...our entire family will pay the price...I don't want this for him, but what other choice do I have?"

"I know a great little place that can't be tracked or found. Nice little house elf that likes to bitch about mudbloods and muggles. I'm sure he'd love the company of a like minded individual."
Faith decided to omit the tinsy little fact that Andromeda and her husband were still taking up residence with Sirius at Grimmauld Place. Narcissa probably wouldn't be too keen on meeting up with her estranged sister and her spouse.

Or Sirius, for that matter.

"I also know of a few untraceable safe houses all around the world...heck, I know a few people who could ship you and Drake off to a different dimension to get away from Mr. Superiority Complex if you wanted."

Narcissa looked utterly downtrodden, "The Dark Lord is too powerful he'd find us and kill us no matter where we went."

"Gosh," Faith said, channeling Wilkins for a moment, "you sure are a downer."

Faith leaned against the alley wall and brushed off a small beetle that had landed on her shoulder sometime during the course their conversation.

"Look. Way I see it either you can keep going on like this; letting your son go down the shitter because you're too much of a coward to stand up for him and yourself, or you could do something about it. He almost killed a very good friend of mine on his little suicide mission. You're lucky I didn't kill him myself!"

Cissy's face suddenly turned feral.

"I don't care if you really are my niece, don't you dare threaten my son!"

Faith previous scowl shifted unexpectedly into a giant grin, "That's the spirit!"

She gave her aunt a quick pat on the shoulder before grabbing her arm and pulling out her wand to dissaparate them out of Diagon Alley.

Her aunt only stared back at her in bewilderment.


Narcissa Malfoy wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't dreaming. Eris Lestrange was alive, and she'd come to help her son. They'd apparated onto an empty muggle street intersection and Faith started toward the left down a smaller road called Bast Ave and Narcissa followed despite herself.

It was all too unbelievable.

If she wasn't in such a daze about the whole thing she would have demanded explanation on how it was even possible. They hadn't seen anything to suggest deception. That day had been forever etched in her memory, and to think that it had been a lie was hard to fathom.

That day so very long ago, she'd not only lost her niece, but her sister as well. Bella had never been the same.

And there hadn't been doubt at the time that sweet little Eris was dead, and yet Narcissa knew with an unexplainable certainty that the woman before her now was Eris Lestrange all grown up. The spitting image of her mother now that she really took the time to look at her.

Maybe if this really was Eris, and Bella found out she was alive, maybe...

She had started to slow with the thought. Eris spun round and grabbed her arm, tugging her down the street and out of her thoughts.

Narcissa stared down at Eris's arm. The girl was a lot stronger than she looked. Her grip was light at the moment, but every time Narcissa would slow or falter for a second, the grip would become like a vice. She'd heard things from Pettigrew and her sister about a group of girls with strength far surpassing what was deemed normal. Some sort of magical being they hadn't encountered before. She'd overheard other bits and pieces of conversations about finding out what they were and if they were working with Dumbledore. It stood to reason that Faith was one of them. How that was possible she didn't know. Eris wasn't a magical being. She was a Lestrange, a pure blood witch. Had something been done to her? Narcissa grew angry at the thought.

She wondered if Eris had she been there that day Bella had attacked the Tonks household. Had her other sister been harboring Eris? Her blood boiled. What lies had Andromeda billing filling Eris's head with? Eris was working for Dumbledore, that much was clear. And that alone was bad enough. She did not always enjoy the methods the Dark Lord employed, but she agreed with his sentiment.

And if Narcissa was thinking clearly she would have protested a lot more to this forced rescue. But then, Eris had said something about her son. He was distraught or in trouble. She wanted to see him. And if her niece, no matter who's side she was on, knew where he was she decided she would follow.

She may have acted like she didn't care to most of the people around her, but she cared deeply about Draco. She wanted to protect him, but she hadn't seen any way to keep him from all of this. If she'd refused to let the Dark Lord mark her son, it would have been seen as a sign of disloyalty. It would have been worse for Draco if she'd put up a fight. With Lucius in prison and her home over run with Death Eaters and dark creatures, her options were limited.

Maybe there was something that could be done to protect Draco. She hadn't dared hope. But if this woman dragging her down toward the intersection of Bast Ave and Grimmauld Place really was Eris Lestrange, maybe miracles were possible.


Draco sat in the kitchen while the old house elf continued his ministrations.

"Does Mr. Malfoy want any food? Kreacher can make you a cup of tea? Or some soup? Kreacher hasn't cooked in years, but he remembers. My mistress always liked my soup..."

He shook his head at the small creature, who looked completely downtrodden that Draco didn't want anything. Draco sighed and drew a hand through his dirtied and untidy hair. He couldn't think of anything besides his mother. He was hungry. He actually didn't even remember the last time he'd eaten, but he just couldn't bring himself to take Kreacher up on his offer. And so Kreacher kept cleaning around him and talking nonsense about being honored to be in the presence of a Malfoy and how happy his mistress would be to know that he was here.

Although, his great-aunt's portrait certainly hadn't sounded all that thrilled about anything- other than yelling her lungs out about mudbloods and traitors.

It was no wonder, either. The Black Family Home being used by Sirius Black to aide Dumbledore and the rest of the muggle-lovers? It was blasphemy. Terrible. Horrid. At least, that's what he knew he was supposed to think. At this point, he simply couldn't bring himself to care.

"You really should eat something." Draco tensed at the new voice.

It was him.

Black. The blood-traitor that had miraculously come back from the dead and was back aiding his godson, Potter.

The Dark Lord had been just itching to know how he'd accomplished that.

He looked up at the man, who was clad in a nice brown frock coat. Apparently his newly cleared name allowed him the freedom to buy new clothes, so that he looked a little less like a muggle hobo and more like the man his surname suggested.

"I'm not hungry." Just as he'd said the words, his stomach began to growl in opposition. Sirius chuckled under his breath and his eyes sparkled in amusement.

His 'cousin' walked around the kitchen table toward the cupboard pulling out some plates, "Well, if you're not hungry... I guess I'll just have to eat the pizza I picked up from down the street all by myself."

As he spoke, a square cardboard box floated into the room and set itself in the middle of the table. The smell of the food within the cardboard container wafted to his nose and his stomach started to growl anew. He stood his ground against his hunger and glared back at Sirius, "Go ahead. I'm not going to eat that muggle garbage."

Sirius shrugged, "Suit yourself, Malfoy."

Draco's scowled deepened as Black opened the box and pulled out a slice of the pizza, practically taunting Malfoy with it. His nostrils flared as he caught more of the smell of the melted cheese, tomato sauce, and sausage. Sirius took a giant bite of his slice before setting several more on a plate and sitting much too close to Draco for his liking.

He was eating very slowly, smacking his lips, and making noises as he ate. Draco couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright! I'll bloody well have a piece! Just stop it!" Draco growled.

Sirius grinned in triumph over the slice of pizza hanging out of his mouth, "Stop what?"

Draco glared at him as he reached for the pizza box.

He ate his slice in silence and avoided looking at Sirius. Luckily, Black seemed to do him the same courtesy. Draco really had no desire to speak the man. Just because he didn't want to kill someone or be Voldemort's lackey didn't mean he was going to buddy up with Sirius Black of all people.

"Faith told me about what happened." Sirius didn't even look up at him when he spoke, his voice eerily calm.

Draco feigned indifference, "Yeah, so?"

"Raven was a friend." Sirius' voice darkened, "I don't know why Faith is is bothering with you. You aren't worth the air you breath. I would have turned you over to Aurors if it were me. " Sirius stood to clean his plate still without looking in his direction.

Draco's felt blood rushing to his head and his vision started to blur. He didn't know why it upset him so much, he should haven't cared what this man had to say about him. Sirius Black had no right to tell him that he was worthless.

"Yeah, well. It wasn't you, was it?" He could hear his teeth grinding roughly inside his mouth.

Sirius turned around to look at Draco, "No, I guess you're right. It wasn't. Faith isn't thinking clearly when it comes to you and your mother. She's feeling sentimental and I'm afraid I can't stop that, as much as I'd like to. But I want to make something absolutely clear." Siruis's gray orbs bore into Draco's skull, "If you or your mother even think of screwing her over... I will end you."

A chill went up his spine and Draco swallowed. He quickly averted his eyes from Black and took a keen interest in his own hands. Sirius Black scared him, even if he'd never admit it. The man had been in Askaban for 12 years. Anyone who could survive that was a force to be reckoned with. The Lestranges, for example. His heart clenched thinking of Askaban. It only served to remind him of his father. Draco hoped he was alright.

The reminder of his father seemed to overwhelm the sense of fear he was harboring over Black, enough that he could look back at Sirius defiantly. Black raised a brow, almost daring him to speak. Draco swallowed then glared at him, "What do you care about Faith, anyway?"

Sirius looked oddly smug, "What, she didn't tell you?"

Draco frowned. He hadn't expected that.

Tell him what? What was there to know?

He glared back at Sirius, not liking his condescension. "What, are you shagging her?" he retorted.

The moment the words left his mouth, he instantly regretted them. Sirius walked over to the table and slammed his hands on the table causing Draco to jump slightly.

"Just like a Malfoy, never know when to shut your mouth." Black growled and Draco did his best not to look like a scared child, "I'll go easy on you for now because you look like you got eaten and pissed out by a Boggart...but don't start with me, kid."

Draco just stared back, his jaw shut tightly.

"Apparently you can keep your mouth shut," Sirius watched him closely for a second and Draco did his best not to squirm under the scrutiny.

"That's good, you're learning." Sirius nodded to himself and was walking back to take a seat across the table, when a door creaked open loudly from upstairs. Draco's eyes widened in hope. He got to his feet, but Black held out a hand to stop him.

"No. Wait here."

Black fixed him with a look that told him there was no room for argument on that point and then left up the stairs. A few moments later Draco could hear Sirius speaking with someone. They were arguing.

"-can't bring....here, -rius! Has she lost her mind?" The female voice sounded in a fit of hysterics.

Draco approached the stairs to listen more clearly.

"Look Andy, I think Faith's right about this. The kid needs our help. If bringing Narcissa and Draco here is going to help him and hurt Voldemort," Draco flinched despite himself, "then I say its worth the risk."

Was Sirius defending him? He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"They'll betray us the second it suits them! That's the way my sister is! Don't you see that?" The woman pleaded.

"Sister?" Draco mouthed in shock. That was Andromeda Tonks up there, arguing with Sirius!

What was this? The Blood-traitor Emporium? If he'd known who Faith was going to seek help from, he never would have agreed to it. It also angered him that this woman thought so little of his mother's character. No one spoke about his family like that.

"You haven't seen the kid, 'Dromeda. He's a mess. If we don't help, where else are they going to turn? Back to Voldemort?" Sirius reasoned, "No matter what your feelings are on your sister and her son, you have to admit that it will deal a blow to the Death Eaters."

"Maybe. Or maybe they were expecting this. Maybe they are playing us to infiltrate Grimmauld Place and kill us." Andromeda reasoned.

"Andromeda. Please, I know how you feel. Really, I do..."

She had a point, actually. He wouldn't have trusted himself either. It wasn't true that this was a set up, but his family always made a show of wanting all mudbloods and traitors dead, so it certainly wasn't something that would be unthinkable. But he really didn't want to be a part of this, on either side. He just wanted his parents. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before the Tri-wizard Tournament. When being a Malfoy didn't mean you were Voldemort's whipping boy, it meant you were somebody to be feared and admired.

Andromeda's voice disappeared and he heard a door slam on one of the higher floors. Draco sighed and went back to his seat at the table.

"One happy family." Draco whispered to himself.


He was up in a room Kreacher had set up for him trying unsuccessfully to get some rest, when he heard the front door open and Walburga began her bitching again. Draco groaned and tried to block the noise with his pillow.

"Walburga?" A voice called over the racket and the screaming almost immediately ceased.

"Narcissa? Narcissa Malfoy? Is that really you?" The portrait asked weakly, worn out from it's constant screaming.

Draco got up with a start. He threw open his bedroom door and started to hurry to the stairs, but slowed before reaching them when sense of dread started to creep inside him. What was he going to say? That he was too weak? That he'd let the family down and then had sought asylum with their blood-traitor relatives?

Draco gripped the banister tightly in fear. His mother was going to be so disappointed.

He was weak. Stupid.

"You took my son here?" His mother asked indignantly.

"Yeah, well. Seemed like a good idea at the time." he heard Faith speak and could almost hear her shrug. They entered the foyer so Draco could see them. His mother was staring Faith with a disapproving scowl.

"'It seemed like a good idea at the time' to bring my son to a piece of scum like Sirius Black for protection?" Narcissa glared at Black as he followed them into the foyer.

"Good to see you too, Narcissa." Sirius grumbled and shuffled across the hall away from her, "Faith, I'll be in the kitchen. I'm afraid all this family reminiscing has left a foul taste in my mouth. Maybe some firewhisky will do the trick."

"Save me some, will you?" Faith asked as he made his retreat. Sirius grunted in reply.

Once he was gone, his mother turned on Faith. "What is going on here? Why are you associating with that man? With Dumbledore? If your mother knew..."

Faith stared blankly at Narcissa as she hounded her, and then crossed her arms. Pain was etched on her face.

"What am I supposed to do, huh? Apologize that I'm not a mass-murdering psychopath? That I don't enjoy killing people because I think I'm better than they are?" Faith seemed to grow more pained with every word.

"No, that's not what I-" his mother shook her head emphatically, "You shouldn't be here. And neither should my son."

Why was his mother talking to Faith like that? Why did she care who Faith associated with? It didn't make any sense. Draco put a hand on the wooden knob at the top of the banister to lean in closer to listen, but the knob came loose and fell to the floor with a loud bang. Both Faith's and his mother's heads spun around at the noise. He soon found two sets of eyes directly on him. His mother's frown softened instantly when she saw it was him, "Draco? Son, are you alright?"

She rushed past Faith and up the stairs toward him. Draco nodded, dumbly. "I'm fine, mum."

She pulled him into an embrace and Draco melted into her arms, "Oh, Draco I'm so sorry. If I'd have been able to keep you from this...".

"I know, mum."

And he did. What choice had they had at the time? What choice did they have now? He still wasn't convinced that Faith could help them. Voldemort was too strong, but he just couldn't kill Dumbledore. And that Raven girl hadn't seemed so bad. He was just tired of pretending to be something he wasn't, "I'm sorry, mum. I just couldn't-"

"Nonsense, Draco." she drew her hand through his hair soothingly, "There's nothing you need to apologize to me for."

He saw Faith slowly making her way up the stairs to them, and Draco reluctantly pulled away from her mother. He didn't like people seeing him like that. He didn't like appearing weak. Faith had already seen him at his near weakest, so it hardly mattered. But there was no reason to add Erumpent fluid to the flame, so to speak.

"We have to figure out what we're going to do from here." Faith leaned on the railing, "You could stay here, or I know some places across the world. I hear Timbuktu is nice this time of year."

Narcissa stepped in front of him to address her.

"We didn't ask for your help, Eris. You've just made things worse by bringing us here."

"Eris?" Draco repeated the name with a furrowed brow. Where had he heard that name before?

Faith glanced at him with a tight lipped and forced smile, but didn't feel the need to elaborate on the name his mother had called her. She sighed.

"I've made things worse? How could things be any worse? The Dark Lord was asking your son to murder someone, and if he didn't he was going to kill you! If that's your best case scenario..."

"Once the Dark Lord finds out we've disappeared with you, which I'm sure he already does by now after that scene in Diagon Alley... he'll want us both dead!" His mother clutched him tightly. Draco couldn't help but agree with his mother.

"I wasn't talking out of my ass when I said I could help you," she looked at them both. "You two like to talk big about who you are, the great Malfoys, but how about you let me tell you who I am."

Faith seemed to change right before their eyes. Instead of the carefree young woman, she looked like a dangerous predator. Draco had seen some of this before in the Room of the Requirement, but this time he really had the state of mind to register the change.

"I'm Faith Lehane...." she gave Draco a sidelong glance and smiled, "and I'm Eris Lestrange."

Draco's jaw dropped. He didn't even have words to put to the feelings he was having over that revelation. Suprisingly however, that wasn't all she had to say.

"But more important than that, I'm the Slayer." Faith stated plainly, as if it were supposed to mean something.

She must have expected their non-recognition of her title and elaborated, "I know you probably don't know what that is. I'll tell you. It means I'm not intimidated by a wizard who likes to play at being Hitler. I've slayed Kakistos. I've fought Angelus. I've helped avert Apocalypses. Yes, that's right more than one. Shit, I know people who've fought gods. Hell, I'm friends with a god. Well okay, maybe not friends exactly, but we are at least on speaking terms. I know a witch that could probably make Voldemort cry like a little baby in a one on one fight. I've fought alongside other Slayers against the First Evil and won. Don't tell me I can't protect you."

The foyer was deathly silent. Draco swore he could hear crickets, or maybe it was just the doxies he'd seen in a few of the curtains. He found that despite the massiveness of her last statements his mind was still fixated on the very first revelation.

Finally he broke the silence.


"You're... Bellatrix's daughter?"








It was a mild mid-afternoon day on Charing Cross Road. People were walking along about from the various shops conversing about whatever nonsense people found important. But not one of these people approached the Leaky Cauldron tavern.

It was almost as though they did not see it.

Except, it was every so often that an individual whom looked like a reject from cothing thift store would walk into it's doors.

First it was a man in a Hawaiian shirt and pinstripe pants. And not soon after there was a woman with a fedora hat, parachute pants, and a white-knit sweater. But then...it was about a half past four when two seemingly average teenage girls dressed in fairly normal attire entered the tavern.

They walked into the dark and unkempt bar and their strides were slow but steady. These two brunette girls approaced the center of the room, their eyes canvassing it occupants. The taller of the two stepped forward as innkeeper approached.

"Hello, misses. Can I help you?" the toothless man asked them politely.

The girl stared at him silently for a moment. Later on, the Wizards would say that she gave him a look of disgust and hatred, but in reality, panic seemed far more appropriate. The teenager's jaw tightened and she seemed to be struggling with something.

Then, she finally spoke in struggled words.

"We are Slayers. The Wa-Watcher's Council has deemed that all Wizards are evil and shall be slain."

The inn-keeper stepped back in confusion, but did not make it far enough out of the petite girl's reach. His neck was broken and two more patrons were dead before anyone in the tavern had the sense to scream.