"Sucks," Anya interrupted. "If I were still a vengeance demon, I'd grant you a wish. Maybe two."
"From." Xander prompted, moving his hands apart.
"Oh bloody hell, I'm English!" Buffy exclaimed, her true English roots showing through during a time of great distress. When Buffy realized what she said, she clamped her hand over her mouth.
“How’s this?” Buffy asked, attempting, and succeeding, at sounding English. It came back to her much easier than she thought it would. It was a little flawed, but soon it would be second nature to her. “Is this okay? Do I sound alright?” Buffy asked again, getting worried at their silence.
“That is just wrong on so many levels,” Xander said with wide eyes.
“Indeed,” Giles agreed, removing his glasses to clean them. He never thought he’d ever see, or rather hear, Buffy-the typical Californian-become a proper English woman. It was quite disturbing.
“Thanks,” Buffy said dryly, using her accent once again. “Not that I really needed your approval.”
“I can’t believe you’re English,” Xander said for the billionth time.
“Yes, well, unfortunate and unexplainable things happen in life,” Giles said.
“Hey!” Buffy cried, offended.
The phoenix, still on her shoulder trilled happily.
“Now that is a great bird,” Xander exclaimed. “Every time she does that, a warm feeling spreads through me. It makes me all happy inside; it’s much better than listening to country music.”
“It’s going to be fine,” he said, looking in her eyes. “They’re going to be thrilled to see you, and they’ll love you, and everything is going to go fine.”
“Promise?” Buffy asked in a small voice.
“Would I ever lie to you?” Xander joked, lightening the mood.
“Would you like me to answer that or shall I just glare?”
He couldn’t deny that he’d thought about it. He was a teenage boy, after all; looking at linoleum made him want to have sex.
“She let us go,” Ron said. “I was beginning to think that Umbridge was going to eat us, but Professor Fox stood up to her. She’s my hero,” Ron sighed.
Harry frowned at Ron while Hermione rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t seem right,” she said, deep in thought. “I mean, why would she go against Umbridge? They’re supposed to be working on the same side. Ugh!” she yelled suddenly, slamming the book she had been studying down on the table, startling Harry and Ron. “None of this makes sense!”
“Hermione’s finally lost it,” Ron said with wide eyes. “She’s hurting her books; I’d never thought I’d see the day.”
“She did threaten me,” Snape said in agreement. “Although she’ll never admit to it.”
“What? She threatened you? Where is she? I’m gonna give her a kiss; I like her already,” Sirius said.
“Yes, it looks like a jeweled necklace I had once. Xander, why don’t you buy me nice things?” Anya pouted.
“Maybe because all of our things tend to get lost, stolen, burned, broken, buried, or swallowed,” Xander said. “And I have little money to buy anything now because our entire town caved in, or did you forget already?”
“You were wrong,” Ron breathed with wide eyes, looking at Hermione.
“How could I possibly know what was going on? I took a wild guess,” she said.
“I jinxed it. Now you’ll never be right again and it’s all my fault,” Ron said, not looking away from her. “My whole world is forever changed. What are we going to do about homework, Harry?”
"I'll take the short version for now," Moody replied.
"Alright," she said. "I became the slayer, killed Lothos, burned down the school gym and got expelled, moved to the Hellmouth, got killed by the Master, killed the Master, dated an ensouled Angelus the Scourge of Europe , slept with and later killed Angelus, got expelled again, ran away, came back, dated an ensouled Angelus again, killed the mayor, blew up the high school, worked with a secretive military operation, became a mighty slayer, almost got killed by the first slayer in my dreams, dropped out of college, got a fourteen year-old sister, found my mom dead, fought a god, died again, went to heaven, was resurrected about five months later and was pulled out of heaven by my friends, clawed my way out of my grave, had sex with William the Bloody, tried to kill all of my friends, nearly lost my sister to social services, died again briefly, watched my best friend nearly destroy the world, got kicked out of my own house by potential slayers and my own sister, defeated the First Evil, destroyed the Hellmouth and Sunnydale, not to mention another school, found out my life I knew was a lie, and here I am. You pretty much know the rest."
Moody sat there for a minute trying to take it all in. "I think I'll regret saying this come morning but tell me the long version."
Looking towards the door, he sighed. "And now, I have to commence the demon-worshipper-in-the-place-he-was-expelled-and-exiled-on-pain-of-death race to try and avoid that bloody cat and any teachers who might know who I am."
"I know, I know, he was Buffy’s snugglevamp, but he’s gone now." He clapped his hands together in a show of mock enthusiasm. "So, c’mon, Will, hit me! What are we dealing with and how fast do I have to run to get away from it?"
Snape managed to make an utterance that sounded strangely like "Whulp!" when Molly grabbed him by the front of his robes and yanked him down to her level and hugged him as tightly as she had her daughter, pressing a kiss to each cheek.
"You bought me a drink." All eyes went to Malfoy, who grinned apologetically with a helpless shrug. "Um...that was meant to stay inside my head, but it’s a valid point. You-Know-Who was a stingy git."
"Willow-babble?" Snape looked dubious. "Is that some kind of narcotic substance?"
"Okay," Xander looked around the room inquiringly. "Would anyone else like to join angry-guy here in the we-didn’t-see-what-happened-but-we’ll-put-the-witch-in-Azkaban-anyway club?"
"That reminds me," Malfoy was staring at her as if he had just realised something or earth-shattering importance. "You were dead last time I checked. Why aren’t you still dead? Was it just a temporary thing? Or did Snape raise you to be his zombie-love-muppet? I would believe in that more than in you miraculously being resurrected."
"We will rule the Galaxy as Father and Son..." Alexander’s eyes closed, a mirthless smile crossing his lips at the thought of Star Wars. Voldemort was the incarnation of an even more evil Vader to his Skywalker.
The tone in those five words told Stone that the subject was firmly closed and that if he even thought about reopening it, he was liable to find his head mysteriously missing from his body.
"They're solid gold. They're round. They shine. They can be used to buy whatever you like," the male voice said politely, in a tone that still managed to suggest that Willy was incredibly stupid. "You take them and stop complaining or I take them all back, bash your face in with this bottle, then show you just how many I can shove up your arse before you pass out."
"You mean something more funny than making that amusing barman dance on top of his bar to the can-can?" Both men leaned sideways to look through the doorway at Willy, who was sitting on the floor and whimpering, his feet plunged into the ice bucket. Draco grinned and gave him a wave.
"Are you being very English or very gay?"
"Are you implying that I’m not funny, Snake?"
"Not implying. Never waste time with implying," Alexander replied, sitting up and resting his forearms on the table in front of him. "All out saying it, Ferret. You have no sense of the funny."
"Me? Shut up?" Malfoy hissed through his teeth in pain as he was lowered to the olive-coloured couch. Using the coffee table in front of him to balance himself, he sat, pressing his eyes shut. "I don’t shut up when I’m being tortured. I don’t shut up when I’m shagging. Why would I shut up when I’ve got a hole in my shoulder?"
"Of course, I still am superior to you in every way, but I don't think muggles are quite as bad as father said. There are clearly some things he never knew about, so I suppose he was at a slight and rather homicidal disadvantage."
"if he's as powerful as you all think he could be, he would either want Snake out of the way or onside with him..."
"So I'm going to be his new favourite choice of toy because of who I am and how powerful I might be," Alexander said grimly. "For the record, I hate my father."
Draco nodded in agreement. "And so say all of us."
This shouldn't be so bloody difficult. He was Draco soddin' Malfoy. Women were supposed to fall at his feet. Some of them were even supposed to fall naked.
Spike nearly chuckled. Why? He sorta liked the little punk-ass, that's why. Draco reminded him of, well, him. If Malfoy could just get over himself, he'd likely make the little bit a real good boyfriend. She needed someone with a bit of fire, and princess pouty pants here fit the bill in a big way. He was a right tantrum thrower. Spike still couldn't figure out why Giles had it in his head that this git would make a good watcher.
Spike rolled his eyes. "No, moron, it was about a girl I knew when I was mortal. Bloody hell, I wrote it well over a century ago, and I was human at the time to boot."
"You have layers. Who knew?"
"Niblet is not going to be swayed by verse about her breasts. That sort of poetry is more appropriate for Faith and would be in limerick form with phrases about what you could do with body parts that rhymed with Nantucket. Try again, Mini-me."