Title: Wrong Frame Of Mind
Disclaimer: I own Jillian, all others are owned by Joss and JK. If I did own them I’d have more than 10 bucks to my name.
Spoiler: Through season seven, book five, and episode 100 (b; h; and a;)
A/N: What the in the frilly heck has been going on in my story? Chapter nine was meant to be very informative, and then chaos jumped in and messed with it. *sigh*
The small room off the main entrance hall of 12 Grimmauld Place was getting more cramped and uncomfortable by the minute. The fact that two older people were trying to barge in didn’t help the atmosphere of the room.
Connor was aware of the girl, Dawn staring at him. He was also aware of the fact that Harry was staring at the girl named Luna in utter shock. Draco just seemed bored, and Neville and Vi were wrapped up pretty much in themselves and trying to keep the other two out of the room.
“So, you’re Angel’s spawn.” Dawn smiled. “Must be weird.”
“I am not spawn.” Connor gritted.
“Well, vamps can’t procreate the normal way, so I’m figuring you for spawn. Plus, if the pretty fits,” Dawn said sweetly.
“I don’t think I like you,” he grunted.
“And my heart’s just breaking over that.”
Harry knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t help it. She’d said that Cedric Diggory was - well, not alive, but certainly a player in whatever game they’d found themselves in.
“I only spoke with him for a short while, you know. He didn’t seem overly bitter about being dead,” Luna sighed, her eyes flickering towards Dawn and Connor. “I suspect being charged with a important task had something to do with the lack of bitter -”
“You’ve spoken with Cedric? Cedric who’s been dead for nearly -”
“Three years next spring. He’s not bitter, but a very decent fellow. Not at all moan-y like Myrtle.”
“Luna, you’re talking about communing with the dead -”
“As if you haven’t seen Sirius?” Luna sighed impatiently. “Tara and Cedric, both of whom are quite dead, have each told us that Sirius made contact. Why is it so difficult to believe Cedric made contact with me?”
“Sweet Salazar! Someone hex me into oblivion! You lot are positively annoying,” Draco moaned.
“I didn’t know that he was quite so whiny up close,” Luna retorted.
“Yeah, bitchy britches has been going on for hours, can we just off him? Cuz I’m not seein’ how he’s you know, not
evil,” Vi snapped.
“He’s crucial to something, Vi. Can’t kill him,” Dawn sighed. “Like to, but can’t.”
“Can we move on from the subject of killing things?” Neville groaned.
“Oh, I’m a thing
am I?” Draco retorted.
“Oh my god, you are a bunch of drama queens trapped in adolescent shells!” Anya cried, popping up in the middle of the room, causing Vi to jump.
“Jesus, Anya, warn a girl before you pop outta the Void.”
“The others are coming, I didn’t have time to page you,” Anya rolled her eyes.
“Others?” Dawn asked
“Well, now, ducks, that’d be us,” An Irish voice said behind her.
Tonks glared at the door then at Remus. They’d been trying everything for the last twenty minutes - since those two girls had shown up and still - nothing.
“I don’t understand it! This door’s never given me an ounce of trouble before!”
“Shh, Nymphandora,” Remus pulled her back Then to her confusion, he pressed his ear to the door. “The children are not alone.”
“Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Buffy Summers demanded, pacing around her apartment in Rome. “Have we seriously lost contact with Dawn and Vi?”
“It appears we have,” Giles sighed over the teleconfrence.
“Vi was in London - Dawn with you in Rome, are we sure they’re connected?” Xander asked.
“Out of all of the potentials, watchers, and general brats in our care, two of them go missing at the exact same moment and it’s not connected?” Faith added.
“Oh, I just got a call from Angel!” Willow exclaimed.
“Angel? What -” Buffy shook her head in confusion.
“Seems some one in his care’s disappeared off their radar.”
“When did get someone young in his care?”
“Okay, not what I was expecting as the ‘boss man’,” Dawn said flatly. “You’re taste is worse that High School Xander. And that’s saying a lot.”
“Geez, you know how to make a fellow feel loved,” Doyle retorted.
“Sorry, I was expecting someone you know, taller,” Dawn replied.
“Yeah, they used to say that about your sister, but were not all giants like you and broody-bottoms junior over there,” Doyle jerked his head at Connor.
“I don’t have -”
“Oh for the love of - Can we get on with this Doyle, or are you gonna drag it on until Harry’s little buddies bust down the door?” Cordelia snapped.
“Take it easy, Princess, I’m gettin’ to it.”
Connor stared at the group of individuals that had blipped in out of nowhere. Sirius stood behind Harry, Cordelia beside them. Behind Dawn, a curvy blond woman smiled serenely at them. A younger blonde with a stripe of purple died hair was grinning up at a brown haired man about his age.
“What’s with the magical appearing tats?” Dawn asked.
“It’s the mark of the seven, which’d be you lot. Got yourselves all right and prophecied,” Doyle replied.
“Uh, hello, but a bunch of us already had
prophecies. You know, Tara, that whole lock thing,” Dawn glared.
“Shh, sweetie. They all know about the Key.”
“Great, there goes my big trump card.”
“Just like they know Connor’s the Destroyer, Vi’s a Chosen One, and Harry’s the Boy Who Lived,” Doyle added.
“Wow, our job descriptions suck,” Dawn sighed.
“Yeah, well you’ve all been hit with another whammy of a prophecy,” Cordelia added.
“This prophecy of the seven? What is it?”
“Well, we’re not quite sure.”