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Draco Malfoy & the House of Seraphim	By : KaliDiah Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 20461 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Angel, or Harry Potter or their associated characters, settings, or concepts. They belong to their various creators & distributing agencies, and have only been borrowed for entertainment purposes with no intent to profit.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long to get out. But, as it's end-of-summer, that means there is a multitude of Things to Do With the Family. However, hopefully this will make up for it.

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The next morning found Draco sitting at the kitchen table. He had several pieces of parchment sprawled across it, mostly filled with notes. Fred had showed him the wonder that was college-ruled lined paper and pens with their own ink supply, but he much preferred the quill and parchment. Currently, he was filling a piece with notes from the book he held open with his left hand. It was called Earth, Air, Fire & Water, by Scott Cunningham. He had finished that book's predecessor, Earth Power, a few days before. He was in the middle of taking notes on elemental correspondences when Professor Snape decided to glide in from having Flooed into the living room.

"Good morning, Draco."

Draco looked up briefly and grinned. "Morning, Severus."

"What are you working on?"

"Elemental correspondences."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Is that ... a Muggle book?" At Draco's nod, he continued. "Hmph, who would have thought Muggles knew about the elements?"

Draco snorted. "Apparently, they do. Quite a bit, in fact."

Snape moved to look over the boy's shoulder. "Perhaps I misjudged this whole teaching Muggle magick business. Of course, I expect you to never repeat that."

Draco chuckled. "Of course I won't." He lay down his quill and turned to look up at the Potions Master. "Why are you here?"

"Someone has to look after you, Draco. Those vampires obviously aren't doing a good job, now are they? Leaving you about the house by yourself while they're up there ... I really don't want to think further on that."

Draco laughed. "At least everyone else got to go elsewhere. I was stuck."

Snape made a sympathetic face. "You poor boy."

"Now, if I had been able to cast some sort of muting spell, it would have been better."

Snape sat beside him. "Actually, that's the real reason I'm here. The headmaster was able to sway the Minister into allowing you to do magick out of school. Reason being, you have somewhat ... special circumstances. And, as we don't have to worry about the Muggles here, it only makes sense. His only stipulation is that one of us be here to supervise you. Naturally, I volunteered."

"I can do magick?!"

"Yes."

"That's great! Now I won't have to listen to ... this is wonderful!"

"Just no going overboard."

"Really, Severus, you have so little faith in me."

"Just doing my job, boy."

Draco smiled and nodded. "Fine. I'll behave." He then glanced at the wall clock and sighed. "Fred should be here soon for my computer lessons."

"Computer?"

"You know, those boxy machines that Muggles ... here, let me show you." He got up and led the professor into the study. In the corner was a desk with a computer on it. "Muggles use it to store information, and even talk to each other. Quite brilliant, actually."

"What is this?" Snape asked.

"The mouse."

Snape shot him an incredulous look. "Looks like no mouse I've ever seen."

Draco laughed. "It's called that because it's sort of shaped like one."

"And what, pray tell, does it do?"

"Well, you move it around on this pad, and on the screen -- this thing here," he said, pointing to the monitor, "on it is a little thing called a cursor. When you move the mouse around, the cursor moves with it."

"And the cursor does ...?"

"Oh, you use it to select things. It's ... difficult to explain without showing you, and I don't dare turn this thing on without Fred here. I'm told this machine is quite expensive, and the last thing I want to do is break it."

Snape nodded. "Good idea. What else have you been learning?"

Draco began meandering back into the kitchen. "Well, I've been getting very in-depth details on vampires. Did you know that there are only twenty actual Clans left? There used to be over six hundred, but they all died out. Most of the remaining ones are either on the verge of dying as well, or only formed within the last century or so. Those new ones are fairly weak, composed mostly of Minions and what they think are their Childer."

"What do you mean by that?"

Draco began straightening his notes. "Even if a Minion Sires another vampire, that resulting vampire is also a Minion. An even weaker one, at that. This is why so many of the Old Clans have died out. So many of them didn't bother to go through the whole Siring process, creating only Minions. They then created more, and the power of their blood thinned, until it was nearly non-existent. It was because of this that new Clans were formed, in the hopes that by combining their blood and their power, they'd grow strong again. Hasn't been working though."

"What of Angel's Clan?"

Draco grinned. "Which one?"

Snape allowed a slight smile. "The old one."

"The Order of Aurelius was one of the first. Probably the strictest as well. It was only until about fifty years or so that the Minions started to become a majority."

Snape nodded. "But, as Angel was an actual Childe, and is now more powerful than ever, he can successfully re-Sire any Minion, and they'd become a Childe as well?"

"Exactly," Draco said, nodding.

"I expect your writings on all of this will be quite intriguing."

"I hope so."

They exchanged a grin as Fred announced her presence from the front door. Snape then sat with Draco through all his lessons. Before eleven, Draco was left to his own devices. He usually used this time to review and organize his notes on various subjects. Then, at eleven, Fred would arrive for two hours of computer lessons. He had caught on very quickly, and was now able to find his way around quite well. So, Fred decided to start him on the internet.

Snape was intrigued by the usefulness of the computer, and wondered why on Earth the Wizarding world hadn't caught on. He had been told that Fred would be working with someone to combine this technology with magick, so that it could still function within high-magick areas, such as Hogwarts. He truly hoped she was able to succeed, as even he could see how invaluable they would be.

At one in the afternoon, Fred left to return to the office while Snape and Draco had lunch. As Draco went upstairs to bring Angel some warm blood at two, Wesley arrived to teach him both Muggle magick and demonology. Draco studied with him for three hours; the first hour and a half of which was Muggle magick, the second was demonology. Then they had dinner, after which Gunn came over and picked up Draco's physical training, seeing as Spike and Angel were rather incapacitated. They continued until they wore themselves out.

Harmony hadn't dropped by all day, but as Fred explained, they thought it would be best if she remained at the office. She had been able to give the excuse of having consumed tainted blood that had made her sick as the reason for her many absences, but that wouldn't work for much longer. However, once the sun went down, she arrived. She had practically moved everything from her little apartment into the house, as she felt much more comfortable there. She greeted Professor Snape as she rushed in, then asked excitedly if Spike was awake yet.

He wasn't, and this was causing Draco some worry, even though Angel did his best to calm his fears when the boy brought up some more blood before he went to bed.

"You don't need to worry, Dray," he said. "Will is nothing if not a survivor. He'll be fine."

Draco could only nod and leave the room. Just as he had felt with Angel, if something bad happened to Spike, it would be Draco's fault.

Sometime late in the night, Draco could hear soft moans coming from their room, and he knew they were awake. Suddenly remembering he could now do magick, he grabbed his wand and cast a sound ward around his room. He then ran to Harmony's room and did the same (for which she thanked him sleepily). Snape had warded his own room -- the one that once been Spike's -- so with that, Draco went back to sleep.

The next two days played out much the same. Angel and Spike were hiding out in their room, evidently enjoying every ounce of their honeymoon they could. Draco couldn't blame them, and even Snape thought it was amusing. It was on the second morning after Spike's awakening that Draco was dragging the trash barrel from the curb, just before breakfast (it had been made quite clear to him that if was to stay there, he had to do his share of chores). As he steadied the large plastic barrel on the sidewalk, he heard people to his left. There were two women and three men looking at the house next door.

"Nope," the woman with the long, curly dark hair said. "This ain't it."

"Must be the next one, then," a man with equally dark -- albeit much shorter -- hair concluded.

The group continued toward him, until the other young woman, this one with light brown hair that fell to her waist, exclaimed, "Six-twenty-two! This is it!"

Suddenly, the eldest of the crowd, a tall slender man with brown hair and glasses, noticed Draco. "Hello," he said gently, his accent unmistakably British, unlike the others. "We were wondering if Angel was about."

Draco narrowed his eyes and set his jaw. He did not know these people, and no one had told him they were expecting company. He instinctively went into defense mode, much the way he did when Angel and Spike had first appeared in the Hogwarts hallway. "And you would be ...?" he asked.

The elder man smiled. "We're old friends of his," he said simply.

Draco looked over the group again, and noticed that the curly-haired woman was taking a noticeable battle stance. Without wasting a moment, he whipped out his wand and aimed at her. "Another move, and I'll toss you down the street like a Muggle rag doll," he snarled.

"Is that a magick wand?!" the last young man said. He was shorter than the others, and quite blonde.

"Yes," the elder gentleman said. "Muggles." He then looked directly at Draco. "You're a wizard."

Draco redirected his aim at the man. "And what would a Muggle know of our kind?"

The man quirked a grin, then reached behind him. "Accio wand!" he called. From a car parked not far down the street a wand zipped through the air. Soon, it was pointing at Draco. "I don't know you from a hill of beans, young man, but I'm sure I could safely wager that, in a duel, I could drop you like a stone in less than a heartbeat."

"Since when did you have one of those?!" the young woman with straight brown hair demanded.

He turned a fatherly glance toward her. "Why do you think I demanded that you all stay out of my glovebox?"

"Wow," the blond man breathed.

"Draco!" a voice boomed from the front porch. "What the hell is going on?!"

Draco turned enough to see Angel, looking rather pissed.

"These people are asking for you. She," he said, flicking his wand slightly in the darker girl's direction, "was going into a battle stance."

"That," Spike said, appearing behind Angel, "is because she is a Slayer. That's what they do."

Draco regarded her in a new light. "A Slayer? Like the one you two ..."

"YES!" the vampires answered in unison, not letting him finish.

"On our side then?"

Angel chuckled. "Dunno 'bout that. Last time Andrew was here, he made it clear that we weren't."

"Yeah, well," the young blonde man began, "that was then, this is now. Things've changed."

"Ah, they certainly have." Angel purred as he made his way down the steps, Spike right behind him. The newcomers gasped as both stepped into the direct sunlight. "As you can see, much has happened since the last time any of you saw us."

"Angel," the elder man breathed, lowering his wand.

"Rupert," Angel said with a slight nod. "And ... since when were you a wizard?"

"I ... uh ... well, it was a rather long time ago."

Angel chuckled. "You always were a mystery, more so than even me."

"Yes, well, I don't have over a dozen journals written about me." The man, Rupert, extended his hand and Angel took it.

"It is good to see you. I hope the reason you're here is a good one. I'd be rather upset if you planned to stake me."

"It's ... a mix. Would we be able to go inside?"

"Of course!" Spike exclaimed. "C'mon, Fred's here, and we'll see if she'll whip us up some of that down home Texas cookin'." He extended an elbow to both of the young women, and both accepted. With the three of them leading the way, they went inside.

"Hello, fellow Champions of Light," Andrew greeted with a dramatic wave.

Gunn groaned. "Oh, man, not again."

"Gunn, they're friends. Play nice," Spike said.

"Mr. Giles!" Wesley said excitedly, jumping up from the couch to shake the older man's hand.

"Wesley, really. From what I've heard, you've grown a great deal. You're more than welcome to call me Rupert."

"Of course. What are you ... from what I heard, you were rebuilding the Watchers' Council."

"Key word: was," the brunette man said jokingly.

"Whoa, Xander I just noticed ... you've got both eyes," Spike said.

Xander lifted a hand to his face. "Yeah. Willow felt bad that I had lost it in that one fight against Preacher Dude, and after awakening every Slayer on the planet, she got all powerful. So, she healed me. Formed a whole new eye right in my head. Presto! Full vision."

"And, alas, that was the start of all our problems," Giles said.

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Soon, everyone was seated in the living room, and Harmony and Fred had provided everyone with breakfast on T.V. trays. Unsure of their guests' motives, Angel and Spike, while sitting beside each other on one of the couches, both resisted the urge to snuggle into each other. Angel waited for one of their guests to speak, to tell them why they had come to California. Something was terribly wrong, that much was evident. He could feel it radiating from them with a clarity that startled him. Anger, sadness, confusion, distrust -- he could feel each and every one as succinctly as if they were his own, and he knew who each belonged to. He had always been good at determining the emotions of others, but never to this extent.

Even more surprisingly, he could see it. Around them, dancing about an inch off their skin, were colors. And somehow, he knew those colors were attached to their emotions. His eyes widened slightly as he realized he could see auras. Dawn was surrounded by a silvery mist of color, and he knew it was because of her sadness. Faith's bitterness hung about her in a brown swirl. Xander was depressed, and his aura showed a dull grey. Andrew was outright afraid, evidenced by his bright and chaotic orange aura. And Giles ... his aura was a deep, bloody crimson, echoing his rage.

"Giles," Angel whispered, still in awe of what he was experiencing. "What happened?"

"I must tell you that what you're about to hear ... you may not believe it, it may hurt you, but you must understand that it is true. I dearly wish it wasn't, but it is." He removed his glasses with one hand, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other. It was then that Angel realized his former colleague looked much older than he was. "I won't bore you with the details that lead up to us five leaving. All you need to know is that waking all the Slayers in the world gave Willow more than an ego, and her little twit of a girlfriend only made it worse with all her praise and ego-stroking." He replaced his glasses and sighed.

"Buffy thought she was untouchable, above everything," he continued. "She thought that, now that there were so many Slayers, she was entitled to some slacking off. She felt that she didn't need to take her calling as seriously anymore. At first, she would train and lead the Slayers in her ... group, for lack of a better term. Gradually, she started letting them do all the work out on patrols."

"Then she got involved with the Immortal," Andrew added, "and she stopped patrolling completely."

"The Immortal?!" Angel and Spike exclaimed in unison, both leaping from their seats. "I can't believe this!" Angel cried.

"Does that man hold nothing sacred?!" Spike demanded.

"I take it you know him?" Andrew asked.

"Yes," both vampires spat angrily, however they deigned not to elaborate {* *}. Instead they retook their seats. With a shared glance, they decided to hell with it. It was clear that Buffy had finished baking, and she'd moved on just fine. Spike scooted closer and leaned into Angel's chest as the older vampire wrapped an arm around him. Ignoring the odd looks their old friends were giving them, Angel motioned Giles to continue.

He cleared his throat and began again. "Ah, yes, well ... ah ... as Andrew said, she's stopped patrolling. We five didn't approve of either girl's behavior one bit, of course. One evening, we got together and confronted them. What happened next ... so many things were said. Hateful, hurtful things."

"What kinds of things?," Angel prompted. The energy in the room changed suddenly, and he was assaulted by a frenzy of dark emotions. A quick glance at Spike told him that the younger vampire was experiencing it, too.

"I ... I don't know if I can say. It was so ... It was as if they were possessed or something."

A sniffle from Dawn drew everyone's attention to her. "Dawnie?" Spike asked gently. "What is it?"

Finally, the young woman spoke, and as she did, it was clear she was trying to keep her voice steady. "When Willow went bad, she had offered to return me to my original form. She offered to make me a ball of green transdimensional energy again, supposedly to spare me the pain of humanity." She broke then, her anger apparent. "She offered again, but this time, it wasn't out of any kind of compassion." Tears began to run down her cheeks. "She said that if I didn't stop bothering them about how they were doing things ... she would ... she'd force me back into that form. And then Buffy ..." But she couldn't finish. She was sobbing hard now, and Andrew was leaning over, trying to console her.

Spike looked to Xander. The young man sighed sadly. "Buffy said she'd hold Dawn down so Willow could do it easier," he said softly.

Angel and Spike again leapt from the couch snarling, their eyes glowing gold. They were joined by Wesley. All three of them began yelling at the top of their lungs.

"Where the hell is she?!" Spike demanded. "I'll rip her to shreds!"

"And I'll hold her down so you can do it easier!" Angel roared.

"This is incomprehensible!" Wesley shouted.

It took a good fifteen minutes for Angel's friends to get the three calmed down. But, even as they sat once again, the vampires' eyes were still an angry gold, and they continued to growl deep in their throats.

Angel couldn't believe it. True, he had always thought Buffy was a bit self-centered, and didn't take things as seriously as she should, but he never expected this of her. Especially not toward her own sister. Okay, so Dawn wasn't really her sister -- she truly was a ball of green transdimensional energy, capable of opening transdimensional portals, that was given human form using Buffy's blood in order to hide it from a hell-god. But even so, according to Spike, everyone's memories had been altered to include Dawn (including Angel's own), and Buffy truly had loved her as a sister. For her to suggest something so cruel was beyond his comprehension.

He could feel Spike in the back of his mind, and he was even more livid. Spike had formed a special bond with Dawn over the years he'd known her. He was there when she found out the truth of her origin. He was there to watch over her those three months her sister was dead. He took care of her the way he would his own Childe. He had also loved Buffy, almost as much as Angel once had.

And then there was Willow. The redhead Angel had known had always been sweet and caring, if a bit energetic. Even when she had wanted to end the world, she wanted to do so to end all the pain she was able to feel from everyone on the planet. But this was just ...

"I can't believe this," Spike said with a quiet rage. "What about the rest of you? What did they say to you?"

Xander looked at the floor. Angel didn't need him to say anything to know what Willow had promised him. "She would take both your eyes, wouldn't she?" he asked softly. Xander only nodded. He turned to the Slayer of the group. "Faith?"

For once, Faith's confidence seemed stripped, and she shuddered. "Said that since she could give people their Slayer powers, she could take them, too. Said she would ... then they both started ticking off ways to k-kill me. They said that since I had helped the Mayor all those years ago, I didn't deserve to be a Slayer. And that little wench, Kennedy, was cheering them on the whole time."

"They skipped the power-stripping with me, and went straight to death threats," Andrew murmured.

"Rupert?" Angel prompted.

The ex-Watcher didn't answer for a long time. Angel knew it wasn't his own pain that stalled him. Rupert Giles had always considered them his children -- even Spike and Angel, when they had been a part of that group. To watch as his children were threatened by two of his favorites must have killed him. Finally, with a sound that stood somewhere between a sigh and a sob, Giles spoke softly. "They told me that I was too old for this. That I should have retired ages ago. They said I was useless. Of course, they then decided that the world would most likely be better off without me. It was clear they didn't need nor want us. So, before they could make good on those threats, we left. We didn't know where to go, but we knew that we couldn't give up the fight. Faith is still a Slayer, and I am still a Watcher, and we have a duty."

"I ... I suggested we come here," Andrew said, uncharacteristically subdued. "I knew that I said we weren't on the same side last time, but, I was hoping you could forgive me of that."

"You were played, Andrew," Spike said, his tone surprisingly soft. "You have a problem with hero worship, and she was a hero. It's hard to see people as they truly are when you put them on such a high pedestal. It wasn't your fault."

"Thank you, I think." The boy managed a small smile.

"You know damn well you are all welcome within my circle at any time, provided you're not trying to kill any of us," Angel said, with a slight smirk.

Giles sighed with relief. "Thank you." The mood lightened, but only marginally. Angel knew it would be a good long time before any of them recovered from such a brutal betrayal. He only hoped that he and his other friends could help them.

Angel smiled and nodded. "Space may be tight, though."

"I got room," Gunn said, raising his hand.

"Me too," Fred offered.

"As do I," Wesley added.

"Thank you so much," Giles repeated.

Angel nodded to his three friends in turn, silently thanking them for their compassion.

"Hey, friends of Angel," Gunn said, gesturing to the vampire, "friends of mine." He flashed a million-dollar smile.

"Good. Now that that is all settled," Angel said, finally calmed, "how about you tell us about Rupert Giles, the Wizard."

"Actually, more along the lines of Rupert Giles, Ravenclaw, Head Boy of Hogwarts, and fully certified Medi-Wizard," Giles corrected with a smirk.

Draco snorted. "So much for being useless."

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Snape straightened his shoulders and knocked on the door before him. He didn't want to be here, but Angel had charged him with a special task. He had to come up with a list of students that would be suited for a few extra classes. Aside from Draco, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley were definite choices. Perhaps the Weasley girl, too. But, to be sure, he needed to look at their student files. And that meant he had to get into the back room of Argus Filch's office.

Snape couldn't stand the squib caretaker, but this was necessary. He waited for a few moments, and when there was no answer, he knocked again. Finally, the crotchety old man swung the door open. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"I need to view the student files."

"What for?"

Insufferable twit, Snape thought. He had hoped that Filch would just step aside and let him get to it. But now he had to make up an excuse. The fewer that knew of the new classes the better. He wracked his brain for a moment, then was struck with a bolt of brilliance. "I am thinking of expanding my sixth- and seventh-year classes to include alchemy. In order to do that, I need to review the student files to make sure they are ... properly prepared."

The caretaker regarded Snape for a moment. "All right," he said, and stepped aside.

Snape breezed by him and went directly to the small ante-chamber toward the back of the main office. There he found two large trunks. The one on the left held faculty files, and he was half-way tempted to root though them. However, that wasn't what he was there for. He knelt before the trunk on the right. The chest itself was divided into four sections, as was the lid. All one had to do was lay their hand on a portion of the lid, say the student's name, and their file would appear in that section when the lid was opened. This way, he could look at four different files simultaneously.

He placed his hand on the far-left section and was about to say Potter's name, when he noticed a presence looming behind him. He turned to glare up at the caretaker. "May I help you?" he asked, his voice smooth yet clearly agitated.

"Does Dumbledore know what yer doin'?"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "No. It would rather be a waste of the man's time if I told him about this and the students turned out to be ... inadequate."

Filch nodded. "I s'pose."

Snape simply sighed and returned his attention to the chest. He once again was about to call up Potter's files when Filch shuffled a foot behind him. "Mr. Filch, must you hover?!" Snape snapped.

Filch was about to retort when a loud crash echoed through the castle. Without a word, the caretaker took off.

Snape looked to the ceiling. "Thank you, Peeves," he muttered. Once he was sure Filch was truly gone, he pulled out his wand. "Invisus Manifesto," he muttered as he waved his wand over the chest. He knew that Dumbledore would have enchanted certain documents to remain hidden from the casual observer, and it was those Snape was most interested in. Hoping the simple revealing charm would work, he finally called up Potter's files.

He opened the lid and his eyes widened. He had expected a lengthy record, but nothing like this. Sheave upon sheave of parchment was shoved into the compartment. He placed his hand on the next section of the chest and again said the name. He watched as the contents of the already open segment decreased. When he opened the next division, he saw that the records continued there. This, at least, would make looking through the file easier.

He sighed and pulled out a random piece of parchment from the back of the first section. He looked at the date and mentally calculated how old the boy would have been, which was about four. This record was clearly in Dumbledore's writing, and Snape had to wonder why on Earth the headmaster would write about Potter before he was even accepted to Hogwarts.

I went to see Harry today, though he did not see me. He and his cousin were in the back yard, and Dudley punched him. Harry fell, but did not cry. Nor did he strike back, but he did get back on his feet and stood his ground. This is a very good sign.

Snape's brow furrowed as he replaced the paper and removed another one, again in Dumbledore's pen. This one was when Harry was about seven.

I have noticed that though he spends much time in the cupboard under the stairs, he does not seem to exhibit any symptoms of claustrophobia, which usually results from such entrapment. This just goes to show how strong and sturdy the boy's psyche is. This will prove useful.

Snape was shocked. Dumbledore knew all along of the abuse Harry had received at the hands of his Muggle relatives, yet he stood by and did nothing. Not only did he know, but he thought it was a good thing. He quickly replaced that record as well, and grabbed yet a third. This one was written midway through Potter's first year at the school.

My suspicions have been confirmed. Quirrel is acting as Voldemort's host-body. I'm sure Snape suspects this as well, but I have decided not to tell him. He has interfered more than enough in this situation, and if he knew for certain, he may thwart Quirrel's attempts at acquiring the Philosopher's Stone completely. He must not be allowed to do so. It is up to Harry to complete that task.

Another parchment was drawn, this one closer to the end of his first year.

Harry was successful. Alas, he did not complete the task alone, as he was supposed to. His friends aided him immensely. How is he supposed to defeat Voldemort when he can't even protect a rock on his own?

Snape was so shocked by that one statement that he nearly toppled over. Did the other professors know any of this? Perhaps McGonagall, as she was Deputy Headmistress. No, she may be strict, but she was still compassionate, and she would not have allowed this to happen. Not even Snape himself would have allowed it, had he known. True, he had no great love for the Gryffindor, but he didn't truly hate him either. Most of the ire and spite directed at the boy was merely for show. It would do Snape no good to be even the slightest bit pleasant to the Boy Who Lived in front of a crowd of soon-to-be Death Eaters.

That last entry inspired him to look into both Granger's and Weasley's files. He called them up in the remaining sections of the chest. Though they were lengthy, they were nowhere near as extensive as Potter's. Again, he picked a random report from Granger's files and skimmed over it.

He paled to pure white as his eyes caught two words. Two words that should never be said about a child, especially one as bright and resourceful as Hermione Granger. He shoved the parchment back into the file and slammed all the lids closed once again. With that, he got up and sped to his personal quarters. He had to Floo to Los Angeles and tell Angel that his old friend was not what he seemed. Hopefully the vampire would understand and help Snape do something. As he flew down the hallways, those two words echoed in his mind.

Liability.

Expendable.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES

I promise, PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE, that my site will be done soon. I just want to make sure everything is in place, and I need to get the domain still. BUT, it will be fantabulous.

TO MY REVIEWERS

Warconq: Heheh. I assure you, I'm a girl. I do appreciate all the reviews I've received. And yes, I HAD to put some humor in there. I mean, COME ON!! It's SPIKE! I actually didn't add the Draco parts in until later, but I felt I just had to. Poor boy.

Amelia: I am honored, trust me. I assure you Draco will not, under any circumstances, be left out. He will have his share of lovin', I promise. I try to update once a week. However, as I said at the beginning of the chapter, End-of-Summer is a busy time for my family. But, I should be back to a regular schedule again.

TP: I really wanted Dru's death to be meaningful, and I'm glad that carried over. Draco will have his turn to play. A lot. They will be going back to Hogwarts soon, and a LOT will be happening. Be prepared for intrigue and mystery!

Jademoon: Writing Draco like this is HARD! I mean, making him likeable while still keeping him a prat ain't easy, and it's only going to get HARDER once he's stuck around Harry & Co. again. This was my first sex scene, and I'm glad people liked it. :)

Lady Shade: You've been added to my list. :) And I'm honored that you're recommending me. :)
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Draco Malfoy & the House of Seraphim