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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.

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Spike hung back slightly as he followed his Grand-Sire and the old wizard through the halls of the school. The corridors were no longer empty and quiet as they had been when they arrived. They were now bustling with activity. Apparently, the students were leaving for the summer the following morning.

He drew his coat closer around him. He could feel the magick inside everyone, even the very castle itself. It buzzed in his brain and made him nervous. He had never been comfortable around magick, and now, being surrounded so profusely by it, he was afraid he would go mad.

He tried to distract himself, but he wasn’t sure how to go about doing that. So, he concentrated on trying to find that Draco boy. He seemed to be an amiable chap. A right bright one, too. The young man had not even known Spike an hour, and already he could see things his blasted Grand-Sire failed to. Spike decided to keep an eye on that one as long as he could. However, Draco was currently nowhere to be found.

They finally came to a gargoyle set in a wall, but when Dumbledore whispered to it, the statue jumped away to reveal a circular escalator of some type. They were then in what Spike assumed was the Headmaster’s office. He allowed himself to whistle in appreciation as he looked around. The only word he could think of to describe it was ... decadent. In a posh, sophisticated sort of way, but decadent nonetheless.

The old professor chuckled. “I’m glad you approve. Please, have a seat.” He sat himself behind his desk, and held out a fancy glass dish. “Sherbert lemon?”

Angel simply smiled and waved his dissent, but Spike took the old man up on his offer. Spike rarely passed up treats. As he sucked on the candy – which he knew would soon dissolve and only the fizzy powder inside would be left (which he loved) – he once again looked around, allowing the old friends to catch up with each other. His eyes landed on the bright bird perched near the desk. His eyes widened and he pointed. “Is that ...?”

“Fawkes!” Angel cried, leaping out of his chair. He gently caressed the phoenix’s breast feathers. Fawkes made what sounded like slightly offended noises. “Oh, come on, you know I wouldn’t deliberately ignore you. I was so caught up in talking to Albus ...” The bird cooed, apparently accepting the explanation. “That’s what I thought. You never could stay mad at me.”

Spike blinked several times. Then blinked several times more. He was watching his Grand-Sire get all mushy with a bloomin’ phoenix. This was a side of the older vampire he had never, ever seen before, and he wasn’t quite sure to make of it. Okay, Spike had to admit, it was cute, and kinda sweet, and the smile that graced Angel’s face made him absolutely beautiful ... Spike forced that line of thought to come to a screeching halt. No, he would not allow himself to get dragged into those emotions. It seemed clear to him that Angel was nowhere near interested in even a tame version of the relationship they had shared oh, so many lifetimes ago.

Spike shook himself out of his reverie at the sound of his name. “Spike?” Angel asked.

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you wanted to come pet Fawkes.”

“Oh, um ...”

Angel chuckled. “Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.”

“And he’s not quite to his renewing cycle yet, so you shouldn’t have to fear him bursting into flames,” Dumbledore offered nonchalantly.

“Flames?!” Spike cried.

“Well, he is a phoenix, Spike,” Angel chided gently.

“I bloody well know that! But ... just ... mentioning ‘bursting into flames’ around a vampire ...”

“Oh, dear,” Dumbledore said with a slight frown. “My apologies, William. I tend to ... disregard things. I assure you though, you are in no danger from Fawkes.”

Spike thought a moment. He then inched his way toward the creature and reached a tentative hand toward him.

“Go ahead,” Angel urged softly.

The phoenix’s feathers were soft and warm, which surprised Spike a bit. He smiled and moved closer, and the bird chirruped a hello. “Hey, mate. Name’s Spike. I’m a friend of Angel’s, here.” Fawkes trilled in response.

Spike then looked up at Angel, startled to find tenderness and caring in those deep eyes and warmth in his smile. He smiled back, enjoying the moment, knowing it would be brief. Just as the embrace in the alley had been. As he had expected, Angel turned away and sat down again. Damn him for getting Spike’s hopes up. Damn him, damn him, damn him!

Fawkes cocked his head and chirped in question. Spike looked the phoenix in the eye and breathed, “It’s okay, but thanks for askin’, mate.” He then returned to his own seat and tried to follow the conversation.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Watching Spike get acquainted with the phoenix was endearing to the older vampire, and he couldn’t help but feel like a father sharing a new discovery with his son. But when his Grand-Childe looked at him and smiled the way he had, it nearly tore his heart to shreds. He cared for Spike as any vampire would care for their Grand-Childe, but he wasn’t sure if it went beyond that. He was, however, quite sure of what Spike felt and wanted. It was more than what he was able to give at the time and the last thing he wanted to do was lead the boy on.

When he was Angelus and Spike was still William the Bloody, they had shared a very dark and twisted relationship. It was highly physical, from rough sex to torture, and both thrived on it. But under all the violence there was a current of love. Demonic love, but love nonetheless. They would have done anything for each other ... including running away when one regained his soul. Angelus had known that if he had stayed, he would never be able to give (by that time) Spike the relationship they had once had. Angelus had figured it would be better to just leave so Spike could forget about him and move on.

Of course, ever since Spike appeared in a blaze of light and a cloud of dust from the crystalline amulet in his Wolfram & Hart office, Angel had learned to regret that choice. Though they weren’t very close, little by little, the two once-adversaries had opened up to each other. Angel had learned of how Darla took out all her anger on his Childe and Grand-Childe, how they had made their escape, and how hard it was for Spike to care for the insane Drusilla. It had been hard for Angel to hear all of this. He felt so horrible and often wondered what would have happened if he had taken the two with him when he left.

In turn, Angel had told Spike a bit of what had happened to him after he had gained his soul, as well as what had happened to him since they had last met in Sunnydale a few years ago. Spike had been floored to hear his Grand-Sire had had a son. Not a vampiric Childe, but an actual son. Granted the boy, Connor, had all the vampiric abilities, but he was essentially human. Spike had used the term “dhampyr”, saying it was used in some role playing games to describe a half-human, half-vampire hybrid. Angel had also told him how he had given Connor up to a normal life in return for the Wolfram & Hart offices, and that Angel was the only one who even remembered Connor had ever existed.

Angel had to admit, day by day, he was becoming more comfortable around Spike. They had both been through so many experiences and changes that they were still getting to know each other. And it was because of this that Angel was unsure of what he wanted out of their relationship. So, he turned away from that bright, hopeful smile, and returned to his plush seat in his old friend’s office. He could feel the disappointment in the younger vampire, and could hear Fawkes seem to ask if he was okay. Spike answered very quietly and though Angel couldn’t hear, but he didn’t need to in order to know the boy was upset. It was pouring off him like a tidal wave as he passed to return to his own seat.

To keep himself from brooding, he decided to return to the conversation with Dumbledore. “You’ve come quite a ways, Albus.”

The old wizard chuckled. “That’s what hard work and diligence will get you. Besides, you know that when I put my mind to something, I can make anything happen.”

Angel laughed. “And that’s why you’re now Headmaster, eh?”

The professor nodded once more. “Now, I’m brought to wonder how you got here, and why.”

“I have no clue. As I told some of your students, we had just destroyed some vampires and were on our way back to the car. Suddenly, we were here. We had barely appeared when that Draco lad bumped into me.”

“Ah yes, I was going to ask about young Mr. Malfoy’s involvement in this.” He spared a glance at the younger of the two guests and the twinkle in his eyes caused Angel to look as well. It became clear that whenever the boy’s last name was mentioned Spike reacted strangely.

“Spike, is everything okay?” he asked.

Spike nodded. “Yeah, you just know how I am around magick.”

Angel nearly smacked his own forehead. He had forgotten how adversely Spike reacted to magick. When Dumbledore gave him a questioning look, he said, “For some reason, Spike has always had trouble around magick. Vampires can naturally sense magick, but for some reason, he can even more so. Being here must be hard.”

“Drivin’ me right batty, it is,” his Grand-Childe confirmed through clenched teeth as he sunk down in his seat as if he was trying to hide in his coat.

Dumbledore seemed thoughtful for a few moments, then nodded. He began rifling through the desk drawers until he produced a black box. He placed it on his desk before Spike and gestured for him to open it.

Spike did so. “Wha’ is it?” he asked unsurely.

“It’s a negation amulet. It will help dampen your magickal senses. Go ahead, put it on.”

Spike regarded the deep red stone hung on a silver chain for a brief moment before slipping it over his head. After a second, he smiled and leaned back in the chair. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He sighed happily.

“I take it it works?” Angel asked, somewhat amused.

Spike nodded.

Dumbledore chuckled. “You are not the first to experience this discomfort. I must ask though, do you have any wizards in your family?”

Spikes eyes flew open and immediately Angel knew that Spike was still keeping secrets from him. Spike fidgeted and looked increasingly uncomfortable. “I ... I don’t know ... m-maybe.”

Angel straightened in his chair and leaned toward his Grand-Childe. That sort of reaction was not like Spike at all. William the Bloody did not stutter. Going on a hunch, Angel quietly said, “Malfoy.” Spike snapped his attention to him, panic in his eyes. Angel knew he had hit on something. But he knew Spike and was sure that it would be near impossible to get a straight answer out of him. Unless ... “Will, what’s yer last name?” Angel asked, letting his original Irish accent come to the fore. Spike knew damn well that when his Grand-Sire used that voice, he wasn’t playing around.

Nonetheless, he snapped, “What’s it matter? Ye never cared before.”

It was true that he had never cared before. When Drusilla had brought the young William to Angelus he had made it clear that his old life was over, which was part of why he later became known as Spike. Now it seemed incredibly important. “William! Answer the question!” Angel demanded.

Spike looked down right afraid, although Angel couldn’t discern whether it was because of his forcefulness or the secret he was about to reveal. The young vampire looked from his Grand-Sire to the Headmaster and back. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as if trying to say something, but his voice wouldn’t come. Finally, he managed to whisper, “M-Malfoy.”

Dumbledore gasped. Angel blinked a few times. Not even he had been expecting that. Maybe that he knew the Malfoys, but not that he was one. It was suddenly clear that the pair did not materialize in Hogwarts without reason, nor did Draco find them by coincidence.

“M-my father,” Spike continued softly, nearly mumbling, his accent even more pronounced. “He was a widower when he married me mum. Had me, but he died when I was li’l. Mum had told me what he was, and that bein’ a wizard and practicin’ the magick is what killed ‘im. So, she forbade it. Got it in me head that it was bad. So, I started to hate it, blamed it for killin’ Da.

“She didn’t talk ‘bout it much, but I knew I had a half-brother, from Da’s first wife. She did tell me that ‘is first wife was into the magick too, and that ‘is family looked down on us ‘cause Mum wasn’ a witch’r summin.”

“Do you know your half-brother’s name?” Dumbledore asked.

Spike nodded. “Caelius.”

The Headmaster steepled his fingers and sighed. “Lucius Malfoy’s grandfather.”

“Wait, Draco said Lucius was his father,” Angel said, and when Dumbledore nodded he continued, “So, that would make Spike ... Lucius’ grand-uncle?”

“And Draco’s great-grand-uncle, yes.”

The vampires shared a wide-eyed look of utter shock, then turned back to the headmaster. They were even more surprised to see the old man chuckling softly. “Well,” the old man said, “this would explain many things. Such as why you seemed to tense every time the young boy’s last name was mentioned, as well as your aversion to magick.”

“It does?” Spike asked.

“You have wizard’s blood in you, my boy, undead as you may be. Magick calls to it, and it reacts in turn. However, having not been exposed to it, you don’t know how to handle that reaction.”

“So, other wizards who haven’t had any exposure to it have reacted in the same way, and you used that amulet to help them deal,” Angel concluded.

“Yes. Usually, the older the wizard, the harder it is to overcome this aversion. I would imagine your vampiric abilities only intensify it. You would eventually become used to it if you remained in a magickal environment, such as this school. Even more so with a bit of magickal training.”

“No way, I ain’t training,” Spike retorted, crossing his arms against his chest.

“I never said you had to. That is your choice, of course. But, we are as of yet unsure as to how long your stay here will be. Therefore, it would be best for you to keep that amulet about you until you leave.”

Spike nodded to this.

“Now,” Dumbledore continued, “the question has become: do we tell young Draco we found his long-lost great-grand-uncle, and how?”

* * * * * * * * * * *

Draco lay on his bed, the drapes that hung from the canopy drawn closed. On his stomach, he clutched a pillow and sighed. Twelve or so more hours and everyone else would be gone. He would finally be able to brood alone. As it was, his housemates were making nuisances of themselves, poking their head through the drapes every ten minutes or so, asking if he wanted to do this, that, or the other thing with them. He would snap at them and while a few were offended, many were understanding. They all knew that he was going to be stuck here all summer and figured he had every right to be less-than-pleasant.

The only one who hadn’t bothered him was Blaise. In fact, the raven-haired Slytherin had taken to yelling at anyone who dared disturb Draco. He allowed himself to smile a bit. Blaise was one of the few Slytherins who hadn’t tried to push him over the edge of darkness. In fact, he now realized that Blaise had made several veiled attempts to turn him away from Voldemort. Draco blinked. Blaise is one of the good guys? he asked himself. Now there’s a surprise. He chuckled.

After a few moments of contemplation, he heard someone approaching. For some reason, Blaise hadn't fended this one off. Nonetheless, Draco readied himself to decline whatever it was they were going to suggest. But when Pansy said that Dumbledore wished to speak with him, he instead asked if she knew what about.

“No,” she answered. “But, I have a feeling it’s about those vampires you found today.”

The second she had mentioned “vampires”, he was through the drapes and out the door. He tore through the Slytherin common room and down the halls. He didn’t know why he felt this urgent need to see them again. He genuinely liked Spike and he was sure that Angel was an all right sort of guy. I mean, Spike hasn’t killed him yet, so that has to count for something, right? he thought.

He skidded to a halt and took a few moments to collect his breath before muttering the password. Once in the Headmaster’s office, he had to control his excitement. The two vampires were there and they were looking at him expectantly. “Professor, I came as quickly as I could.”

“I can tell,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle. “Please sit.” He conjured a third chair, conspicuously between Angel and Spike, and he gladly took it. “Now, it is my understanding that you are the one who discovered our guests.”

“Yes, Sir. I was on my way to the last feast when they appeared out of nowhere.” He then remembered his manners and turned to Angel. “I do apologize for bumping into you, as well as for my behavior that followed.” He then faced Spike. “I hope I didn’t throw you too hard.”

Spike gave him a curious look, then laughed. “I am a vampire. ‘Too hard’ isn’t a part of my vocabulary.”

Angel also chuckled. “I don’t blame you for how you acted. We had arrived rather suddenly and you did what you thought you had to against a perceived threat. I must admit, your reaction time was quite commendable.”

Draco fought the blush that threatened to burn his face. “Thank you.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, and Draco found it odd that Spike also turned his attention to the Headmaster, “until we are sure what brought my old friend and his Grand-Childe here and why, we’ve decided it would be best for them to stay here. Since you will be staying the summer, I thought perhaps you would like to help.”

“Absolutely,” he said, then nearly kicked himself. That was altogether way too eager.

“Wonderful! Well, Angelus, William, I am sure you are both a bit weary. After all, the sudden time change must have your internal clocks going quite crazy right now.”

“Come to think of it, I am pretty tired,” Angel agreed.

Dumbledore nodded. “Alas, I have some end-of-the-year things to take care of. Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to show them to the double guest suite on the sixth floor? You know, the one behind the big painting of a waterfall? I believe the password is ...” He paused and looked up at the ceiling, deep in concentration. “Undine. Yes, the password is ‘undine’. And be sure they have everything they will need.”

Draco stood and bowed slightly. “Of course, Sir. Gentlemen, if you would follow me.” He turned to the door.

As they were leaving, Dumbledore spoke once more, holding a piece of parchment up. “Angelus, I will get this message you wrote to your friends immediately.”

“Thank you, Albus. They tend to worry. A lot.” And with that, the trio left.

Draco glanced at Spike, who glanced back at him. He then spied the necklace. “A negation amulet?” he asked.

“Um, yes,” was all Spike said.

“Some vampires have a very strong sense for magick,” Angel offered. “It can make them rather uncomfortable if subjected to too much at one time.”

Draco nodded and continued down the hall. He had an unnerving feeling that they were hiding something, but he pushed it aside. He had to remind himself that they weren’t his vampires, and therefore not every detail of their lives was his business. Finally, they came to the master stairwell. “Alright, now, you have to be careful here. These stairs like to move.”

“Move?” Angel asked, sharing a puzzled look with Spike.

“Yes. I can show you a more stable route later, however this is the quickest way to the suite. I am sure the faster you can get to rest, the better.”

“Thank you, lad,” Angel said, placing a strong hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Much appreciated.”

The contact made Draco’s heart leap. It reminded him of when his father would do that when he was younger, before the Dark Lord had screwed everything up. He tried to control the rush of emotions that flooded him, but he couldn’t help the smile from sweeping across his face. “No problem, Sir.”

Angel shook his head. “We’ll have none of that. You will call us Angel and Spike, or not at all. Is that understood?”

Draco’s smile widened. “Understood, Si- ... Angel.”

“Much better.”

Draco motioned up the staircase they were to take and Angel went ahead, giving Spike the opportunity to lean in and whisper, “If yer lucky, we’ll even let ye call us Liam and Will.” He then bound up the stairs after his Grand-Sire.

As Draco followed, he felt like he was floating. Draco Malfoy, a bazillion; Harry Potter, not a damn thing.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce III was walking through the underground parking garage of Wolfram & Hart and heading toward the elevator when the sound of beating wings drew his attention. He was startled beyond belief to see the bright red-orange bird alight on the hood of a nearby car. It regarded him for a moment and then squawked, holding one leg out before it. He noticed a piece of parchment rolled and tied to the bird’s leg along with a small pouch. He carefully approached it and removed the items. With that, the bird took to the air and simply vanished in a plume of flame.

After recovering from his astonishment, he unrolled the message. As he read, his eyes widened. He then bolted to the elevator. Once in his office, he called for his compatriots. As each entered he motioned them for silence, as he was unsure if the Senior Partners would be listening in. He then passed the note to Charles Gunn, who read it and then passed it to Winnifred “Fred” Burkle, then the demon Lorne, and Harmony Kendall, yet another reformed (though unsouled) vampire.

Wes, Gunn, Lorne, Fred, and hell, Harmony too,

You are probably wondering where the hell Spike and I are. We’re okay, I promise. Let me start by saying that as discovered as humans like to think this planet is, there are places still hidden by magick. We’re in such a place. It’s called Hogwarts, and is a school of wizardry. The Headmaster here, Albus Dumbledore, is coincidentally an old friend of mine. He was the first person I had encountered when I first acquired my soul. He helped me stay sane.

In any case, Spike and I had finished dusting that vamp gang we went out for and were on our way back when we suddenly appeared in the hallway. A student found us, and thanks to his quick-thinking, I was reunited with my old friend. We’ve decided that until we find out how and why we came to be here, it would be best to stay. And you know as well as I that when it comes to any of us there is always a “why”.

Unfortunately, there are no phones, nor is there the internet. The only way to communicate is by way of messages delivered by Fawkes the phoenix, Albus’ friend and familiar. In the pouch, you’ll find a fire-opal specially enchanted to summon Fawkes. When you wish to send a message, simply tap the opal three times and tie the note to his leg when he appears. He will be sure it gets to us. As he is a very special magickal creature, he is undetectable by the Senior Partners. Hopefully, this will cut down the chance of them finding out what’s going on.

In any event, please go over my cases. If you feel any can be dumped, do so. The others I’m hoping you can divide between yourselves. I know business is slow, so hopefully this won’t cause you to be swamped.

Also, Wes, I need some research done. The first is anything you can dig up on a wizard named Tom Riddle, who also calls himself Voldemort. He’s quite the madman and is at war with the good wizards of Hogwarts. He feels that by gaining control of the school (and therefore all those potential wizards-in-training), he will have an army fit enough to defeat the mundane world. Yes, one of those.

Also, I need family information on Lucius Malfoy. Just start with him and go back as far as you can. Family tree, legends, news reports, whatever you can find. This is very important. I can’t tell you why as it’s not my privilege to do so. But I can assure you that you will know, eventually.

Finally, I want you to research in more depth the symbols that Lindsey used to hide from the Partners. Go to his old apartment if you have to. I want to know if they can be tweaked to shield against all evil. That would come in handy for all of us. In fact, have Harmony access my account and rent an apartment (make sure she covers her tracks, which I know she’s actually good at), and get to decorating. I want a safe house shielded from the Partners where we can conduct business without them knowing. Keep these messages and the opal there, as well as the research for the subjects above. And make sure there’s a fireplace. I have a feeling we will be needing it later.

I think that’s it for the time being. Don’t hesitate to summon Fawkes and send a message, even if it’s just to keep us up to date on office happenings. I am hoping that with Eve out of the game, the Partners will happen to miss the fact that Spike and I aren’t around. Everybody cross your fingers.

Angel

PS -- Spike says hello.

“Well,” Lorne said once Harmony finished reading to herself. “This is rather unexpected. A fireplace?”

Wesley nodded. “I’m not sure what that is all about either, but I can only assume he knows what he’s talking about. Harmony, I want you to get to work on what he asked,” he said quietly. “The sooner it’s done, the better.”

“I’ll have to wait till it’s dark,” she whispered. She already had a plan of action that required doing everything as far away from the office as possible. Despite what people thought of her intelligence, she was actually quite clever.

Wesley nodded. “Very well. In the meantime, get me a summary of his cases. Gunn, you and I can go through, see what we can handle.”

“I’ll hit the office library, get to work on the other things,” Fred whispered. “I’ll try to keep it as low-key as possible, till we can ... you know.”

“I’ll help, Sugar,” Lorne offered. “Got nothin’ else to do.”

With that, Fred, Lorne, and Harmony left Wesley’s office, while Gunn took a seat. “Why do I feel we can’t say a damn thing about this around here?” Gunn asked.

“I know how you feel. Hopefully, Harmony will be quick once night falls.”

Gunn could only nod and wait for the case files Harmony was gathering.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Never in his entire existence had Angel slept in a bed so incredibly comfortable. He had barely gotten the covers drawn over himself before he was dead asleep. The mattress was firm enough to support him, but soft enough to nearly envelop him. And the soft, warm covers were heaven against his cold skin. The pillows felt like clouds and he clutched one to his chest.

He had no idea how long he had been asleep when he became vaguely aware of a soft knocking on the outer door of the suite. He cracked his eyes slightly, waiting for the haze to clear, and breathed a sigh. Maybe it was his imagination. But no, the knock came again, this time a bit more insistent. He struggled from under the sensuous covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pushed himself up and grabbed the thick soft robe that hung on the back of his door. He swung it on as he made his way through the sitting room of the suite to the door.

He opened it and was mildly surprised to find a grinning Draco with a cart laden with food standing in the foyer between the painting and the door. “I believe you call this room service,” the boy said. As the school year was over, he no longer had to wear the school robes, and was dressed in simple black jeans and a jade t-shirt. Angel could see that the young man was so much like Spike: his muscles were strong and sinewy, and he held a cat-like grace.

Angel smiled down at the boy. “My goodness,” he said. “Five-star indeed.” Angel stood aside, allowing Draco entry. “One moment and I’ll wake ... never mind,” he said as Spike appeared from his own bedroom. “Breakfast is here.”

“I’d say so! I think even Xander would be intimidated by that much food.”

Angel chuckled. Alexander Harris really could pack it away. He inspected the items on the cart as Draco began arranging it on a dining table. He was surprised to find a carafe that seemed to be filled with blood. He pointed to it and looked at Draco.

“Yes, it’s blood. Professor Dumbledore conjured it for you. He said it was pig’s blood flavored with otter’s. He told me that you would like it.”

“How did he know?” Angel mused to himself.

Draco smiled. “Greater scholars than you and I have been trying to figure that one out for years. Obviously, they have yet to find an answer. Just don’t tell Miss Granger about the otter’s blood. She has a ... thing for the animals.”

Angel chuckled. “So, do you have any pressing engagements or can you join us?” He noticed the boy’s confused look. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting to be asked to join them.

“Oh, um, well, Professor Snape wants me to help reorganize and take inventory of his potion components, but I don’t have to be to his classroom for another couple hours.”

“Well, then,” Spike said, “have a seat.” He sat himself and started loading up a plate while Angel filled two glasses with the warmed blood.

“Oh, there doesn’t seem to be anything for you to drink, Draco,” Angel said.

“It’s okay. I’m not a wizard for nothing.” He brought his wand out from within his sleeve and conjured a tall glass of orange juice.

“Handy,” Spike said, both eyebrows raised.

“Very,” Angel agreed and gave his Grand-Childe a significant look. If Spike had a predisposition to learning this type of magick, it would be immensely helpful to the good fight. But Spike seemed indignant about it. He let it pass and sat himself. “So, Draco, other than helping Professor Snape, do you have anything else on your agenda?”

Draco shook his head. “No. I don’t think I would have had anything to do if Professor Snape wasn’t the type who liked to work you to the bone.”

“Ah, one of those. How long do you think it will take?”

“I’m not sure. May I ask why?”

“Well, I’m thinking I’d like a tour, and I hardly want to disturb Albus, as I’m sure he’s quite busy.”

“Oh, well, I’d be happy to give you a tour.”

“Wonderful! We can hang around here until you’re finished, so you can just come back here and get us.”

Draco nodded his assent and set into the food before him. Angel regarded the young wizard from the corner of his eye and had to admit that the resemblance to his Grand-Childe was uncanny. Aside from the physical age difference, the only real difference was the tint of grey to his eyes, where Spike’s were clear blue. But even so, he was just as beautiful.

Oh, dear. He did not need to think that of his Grand-Childe, much less this young man. But he couldn’t help but be drawn to him, just as he was Spike. Was it because he shared Spike’s blood? That was the only logical conclusion he could come to. His initial reaction was to cut it off, to ignore it, deny it, make it go away. But once again, the demon won. This boy was blood, even if it was in a round-about way.

He was getting to the point of saying, “Screw it!” and throwing all his precaution to the wind. He had been denying his own existence for far too long, trying to pretend that he wasn’t a vampire. He constantly worked hard to hide his true nature, especially around his friends. They all expected him to be the noble hero. To engage his demon would mean he’d have to be evil. It had happened a few times, even when he had his soul.

So, how the hell did Spike do it? He never denied his vampiric existence. Yet, he was still considered “good”. He never suppressed his lust for violence, nor his need for blood. Of course, it was all now redirected. He only delivered violence to evil beings, and he now drank animal blood. But he was still distinctly vampire. And Angel was sure Spike still followed the old vampiric laws and codes, as Angelus had taught him to.

But Angel had forgotten himself. He was a vampire. Hell, he wasn’t just any vampire. He was Angelus, Childe of Darla, Childe of the late Master of the Order of Aurelius. He was one of the most powerful vampires on the planet ... and he had a soul. But the soul did not make him human, nor did it automatically make him good. All it did was give him a conscience; it was his regret and morals that made him virtuous. It was his choice.

Once again, Angel had an epiphany. He could be evil if he so chose, but he truly didn’t want to. As he searched deep into his being he realized that his demon didn’t want to, either. It finally had its Grand-Childe back and turning evil would mean losing Spike ... again. So, even if he lost his soul there was a huge chance that he would still be good ... sort of. Perhaps not one hundred percent, but Angelus wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he had been. He had been a fool to drive Spike away in Sunnydale and there was no way he was going to do that again.

Something Albus had said to him when they first met rang through his head. “It is our choices that define our character.” Indeed, they do, Angel thought to himself. It had nothing to do with the curse, or the soul. It had to do with his conscious choice to follow the path of light. And that was how Spike did it. Spike wanted to do good so he did, even before he had the soul. Angel no longer had to deny his vampiric nature for fear of turning evil. While he still didn’t want to risk true happiness (he could not be sure of Angelus’ allegiances, regardless of what he sensed from the demon), he no longer had to be truly miserable.

And now, here was Draco, long-lost kin of his dear Grand-Childe. Angel inhaled and could smell William’s blood in the boy. Whether Draco realized it or not, he belonged to the vampires. Even if he was never turned, he would forever be a part of their clan, a blood-bound member of the Aurelian Order. He shared another glance with Spike and by the look in the younger man’s eyes, he could tell he knew what was going through his head. The Headmaster had left it up to Spike to reveal his secret to Draco, if and when he felt right. Angel was sure that Spike was not ready yet, as the apprehension poured off him. However, it was clear that Spike was also drawn to Draco.

Poor Draco was oblivious to all of this as he ate, though he seemed to enjoy being in their company. Could it be he felt the pull of blood as well? Not being a vampire, he wouldn’t understand what was happening, or even realize that it was happening. Angel shared another look with his Grand-Childe, conveying that they would have to keep an eye on the boy. Spike nodded.

“So, Draco,” Angel said softly, “tell us about yourself.”

TO MY REVIEWERS

Dassani –An automated update notification would be SO nice ... but then, that’s just too easy. :::thinks::: I don’t think I’m going to kill anyone too important off, but I’m gonna mess with stuff. Because I CAN, that’s why! BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! Ahem.

pari –I’m glad you’re liking it. And Draco’s dedication to Apollo isn’t really all that creative ... considering I myself am a devotee of the Shining One. And yes, there will be much slashy fun.

warconq –I agree that crossovers are tough, as the two fandoms don’t always mesh. But, this seems to be my “thang”. :) I have another one I started a couple years ago that I may put up.

Raven & Eva –Consider yourselves notified. ;)
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Draco Malfoy & the House of Seraphim