Disclaimer:Not mine, never was, never will be. If I were them, the alarm clock would go off real soon.
A/N:Sorry about the spelling errors, I was in a hurry when I put this up. I went back to edit it, so it should be alright now, no major changes, though.
A/n2:Thanks for the reviews, and yes, Hermione and Connor were a couple. It's just when Connor got his memories back, he had the cold look in his eyes again. Nothing was real, everything was fake, and remember how much he hated magic? Thats why he didn't say a word, he didn't even know her.
She looked at the large castle. The wizards had thought themselves so powerful as to cloak the location of their education place. They did not know of the great Illyria's power. She would scoff at their puny attempts to hide it from her, if gods scoffed. She was there to retrieve the half-breed's child. It was his last wish before fading to ash and mingling with the mud.
She took long strides to the front door of the stone structure. Why do they seek to hide themselves? She had questioned this. If they were so superior, why did they not try to conquer this dimension and make it their own? She had remembered Wesley had spoken something of witch trials. Of course, it had made no sense to her then. Humans who were so stupid as to kill their own kind, and could not see that if the ones they killed truly harnessed such power as they were accused of possessing they would use them to escape, and vanquish. That is what it all was to her then. With so many humans killing off each other throughout centuries, she could not see how it was possible that they had not killed each other off by now. They breeded to quickly, that was the problem. Now the vampires are able to breed, and she did not know what the order of the dimensions were coming to.
She was now at the doors, and she pushed them open without a second thought. It was night, and she could sense the half-breed’s spawn. She made her way down long corridors, it was silent. Why was she obeying the last wish of the half-breed anyways? She would have never done this in her time. They were the muck, the unholy slime. Why would she follow this, she was Illyria, she bowed to none. He was friend to Wesley. To my guide, that is why, she thought quietly. Since she had come to this human inhabited place, it seems their stench had rubbed off on her. It is why she did not show herself much to the world. Wolfram and hart was full of demons. Not many humans were there. But she cold not have gone back. Wolfram and Hart was defeated. She had stood last. The first was Wesley, she held him in arms till his death. Of course, the dark one, Gunn, had gone long before the hour perished. The annoying white-haired one had been decapitated from behind, and the champion had gone last, he fell after he slew the dragon. she had fought on, until she reached the source of the power. she went to the white room after defeating the hordes. she went before they could be regenerated. They were getting weaker. She had stored the wizard who had killed Wesley's power in a stone from her sarcophagus. She met the panther, and stabbed him with it. The building had also turned to ash.
Of course, she had now been infected by being in the public gatherings of the world. Filthy, sinking, rotting corpses of-
"Howdy!" She had just walked through another pair of oak doors leading to a grand hall. She had quickly changed into the shell's true form, remembering how regular humans, or children had been very unsettled in her presence. However, the hall had been silent with shock even as she came in. She tilted her head to one side. "Is this form also unsettling to you?" she said in a deeper voice than Fred's. There was a table ahead with older beings than the rest of the hall. She took them to be this group's leaders. There was one with white facial hair which reached the floor. Perhaps this is a mark of superiority among their kind, she mused. She quickly spotted her target. Connor, she thought his name. He was at a table under a banner which showed lions. This species was a sign of loyalty, yet the shell's memories of this being showed all but loyalty to his blood, and family. She made her way toward him, he was squeezing a bushy-haired girl's hand, holding a wand. A red-haired one, and one was also holding a wand. There was one with a scar on his head who stood behind them, waiting to fight with his wooden stick. Once again she felt she would scoff.
Now the two are lowering their magical transferers, speaking words such as 'muggle' and 'impossible'. The room is muttering it. She stops in front of him, yet before she can do anything, the white-haired man at the head table calls across the hall. "Who are you?" his voice is gravely, and reminds her of droning bees. She turns to him, no longer Fred. Reverting to her true form the red dress is gone, and her armor encovets her body.
"I am Illyria, Ancient god king of the primadorium, creator of shadows, shaper of things." She says in a superior voice. The young seedlings in the hall gasps.
He nods, then says "Why are you here?" For some reason, she is compelled to answer.
"I have come to retrieve the half-breed's child and rescue him from the wrath of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. She turns to the quartet once again, now their wands are drawn, and the scar-headed one is trembling. He think she has come to extinguish his existence. She has not come to diminish one today. She has come to retrieve, that is all. She tells them so. She looks at the one with the scar. "It is not you I want." They are shouting power words now. Do they not know? She was created long before these echoes of magics existed. She stood against pure unadulterated magic in her time, and had defeated it. What made them think they would stand a chance? The spells had not even affected her, they had bounced off her, her suit easily reflected magical intrusions.
She easily pushed them aside, and took Connor. She began to take him, yet his strength was twice as much as the vampires. He yanks his arm from me. "Why do you want me?" He demands.
"It was your true father's last wish before fading." She answered plainly. "Though I have also pondered your question, as I did not used to succumb to the will of any but my own. I blame the weakness of this race, and the shell."
He looks confused. "My father is not dead." he's saying this more to himself than anyone else.
"You are Connor Angel, the son of Angel and Darla, the half-breeds. Raised in Quartoth and named Destroyer. On your birth you were called miracle child for Vampires could not spawn, yet you still were. I came for you to retrieve you from the spell of the Wolf, Ram, and Hart."
He seems to grow frustrated, yet his weighs less than sunlight. "My name is Connor Black, I am a seventh year at gryfindor, and I'm studying to be an Auror. My father is not dead, and I know that there is no spell on me."
She studied him under her gaze. Of course, after he had come to rescue his father, Wolfram and Hart would have to put him in another dimension with another family, and put him in a place heavily guarded by magic so he would never find his true identity. However, Illyria was more ancient than any power Wolfram and Hart possessed, and could easily break and alter them.
She took out the jewel she had stabbed the panther with. She held it, and everyone could sense waves of power emanating from it. All stood still. There would be a large reaction to the releasing of the power. It held Wolfram and Hart's power, as well as the dark Wizard's. The wizards at the head table with the exception of the white-haired one shouted in unison 'No!', however, she could not care less. She must do this. She dropped the Jewel on the floor, and for a moment, there was a pure silence of dread. However, the jewel did not break. The hall breathed. She made to step on it, and it crushed under the pressure of the blow into a million pieces. A green black, and red smoke erupted, and filled the hall. It was to powerful, it seemed all in the hall began to receive Connor's memories.
There was a blonde woman in an alley. It was raining. She poised a wooden stake above herself, she staked herself, and a crying baby was left in her place. A dark haired man picked the child up. The baby had blue eyes.
A man with a beard held the same baby. He had an untruthful face. He jumped through a fiery rip in the air.
There was sand, a desert hell, a young boy, same blue eyes, was killing a demon half his size.
The boy now seemed seventeen, and was trying to kill the dark-haired man with a blade.
"I love you son." The same dark-haired man was in a coffin. A boy with cold blue eyes through him to the bottom of the ocean.
"How could you!" A brown-haired woman whom Illyria had went to demanded of the cold blue-eyed person.
"We're champions. We live each day as if the world were as it should be, to show it what it can be."
"I want to give you something real"
"Reign of fire."
"Why did he come from the same spot Connor was borne?"
" The Powers have sent me to give you a message." The blonde haired woman was a ghost, talking to the blue-eyed killer. A virgin was on the floor, crying.
" My life for yours. Connor. Don't let my death mean nothing."
The pregnant woman killed the Virgin.
"Jasmine!" The boy with blue eyes punched a whole through a shapeless rotting corpse full of maggots.
"There's only one thing that ever changes anything... and that's death." The dark haired man was crying. "Everything else is just a lie. You can't be saved by a lie. You can't be saved at all." The dark haired man slashes his throat.
Now the real Connor started to yell. the images hurt him. Finally the pain went away. He understood why he had been retrieved by Illyria. He was to follow in his father's steps. Connor Angel, not Connor black. He looked at Illyria, now understanding. The power of Vail, and Wolfram and Hart had been released, and would now fuel the demons. He followed Illyria out the door, leaving the hall in silence. The powers had their new champion.