Chapter 22

Spike loaded them all into his De Soto later that night and took off, Sex Pistols blaring from his speakers. Magic users were definitely handy…but he didn’t mind these Linkin Park blokes after Ginny insisted he listen to them. She leant forward and slid the Sex Pistols out of the CD player they’d magically stolen then hooked in. Bloody hell, but they had a delightful lack of morals for supposedly good guys. She put in the one he recognised as the Linkin Park album and she started to sing along after skipping a few tracks, hair blowing back in the wind from the open windows.

“Graffiti decorations, under a sky of dust, a constant wave of tension, on top of broken trust, the lessons that you taught me, I learnt were never true, now I find myself in question-“

“They point the finger at me again-“

“Guilty by association-“

“You point the finger at me again-“

“I wanna run away, never say goodbye. I wanna know the truth, instead of wonderin’ why. I wanna know the answers, no more lies. I wanna shut the door, and open up my mind…” they sped down the highway, Ginny’s sweet voice singing of angry resentment in a sullen bitter style, accompanied by the music and the lead singer’s voice. At least that much hadn’t changed. Good old teen angst and frustrated anger. They’d chosen a different way of showing it, but it was still there.

~*~*~*~

They arrived back in Sunnydale as dawn was breaking and Blaise led them to the area he’d created in the backyard of the Summers house. “I think we should just go. We’re ready. We’re here. We’ve done everything we had to. Let’s leave.”

“Good plan. Spike, is there anything you want to bring?”

“Got ‘em, don’t I? Me duster and me Claimants, now. And I don’t think we can take the De Soto along, but I can nick another car when we arrive.” Spike grinned at Draco and Ginny, and then stood with Ginny in the middle of the pentacle. This time, it was surprisingly easy but the response they got when they arrived in a blaze of light surprised them. Voices shouting and Spike snarled, automatically moving in front of those he’d Claimed.

“Vampire! Get it!”

“NO!” Ginny screamed and a wall of flame sprang into being between them and the shouting people. “You *can’t*.”

“Bloody hell, luv, are these all yer friends?” Spike lit a cigarette on the wall and stuck it in his mouth as his human face reasserted itself.

“Great use for the magic wall of flame, Spike. Light your fag on it,” Mordred snickered.

“And why the bloody hell not? She’s mine, so the wall is mine too,” Spike explained logically.

“You just watch yourself, mr macho vampire.” Ginny thwacked him on the arm and he leant away from the flames.

“Uh, still flammable here, pet.” Spike looked around at the people. “Who’s the santa claus?” He pointed at Dumbledore with the end of his lit cigarette, and the other dimension trippers collapsed into laughter. Ginny banished the wall with a wave of her hand and Spike swooped her into his arms, nuzzling at her neck. “So, we’re back in *your* home dimension. Let’s go shag.” Ginny giggled into his neck even as she blushed with mortification.

“Perhaps some explanations are in order…” Dumbledore said slowly as one of his best students who had disappeared from her hospital bed a few days ago, to be followed by her cat and four other students laughed in a vampire’s arms, not at all afraid.

“Dimension tripping. Prophecy. Strange things. Um. Good vampire,” Blaise pointed at Spike.

“I am bloody not! I’m evil, I am. The Big fucking Bad-“

“And you wankers better not forget it!” They chorused. Spike chuckled.

“Got me down pat, you lot do.” Spike curled one arm around Ginny, and tapped Draco on the shoulder. “Mine. And also mine. Fuck with them and I’ll rip your bloody throats out.” He grinned nastily, flashing his gameface at the people in the room, an old guy with a long beard, a broody greasy guy with black hair and a large noise, some prim and proper old maid, a fussy little man, and some guy with cold eyes and white hair. “Is that your father?” He nudged Draco, who nodded. “Rightio then. Now, in this dimension I never actually got turned but my Sire was Angelus. The name’s Spike. And that’s spike, as in railroad. Torture, ya see. Names and descriptions, Pixie.”

“Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. Snape, Potions master and head master of Slytherin House. McGonagall, Transfiguration and head of Gryffindor house. Mr Fudge, minister of magic and general incompetent. And Lucius Malfoy, all round bastard and evil guy extradonaire. Sic’ im, Spike.”

“All in good time, luv, all in good time. I think we should go after this Voldiewhat’s it guy first. He has to *pay*. But you’re next on the list, so don’t feel too neglected, Lucy. You put marks on my property. I don’t like that. Makes me all blood lustful for some reason.”

“As I said, Lucius is a scarily evil bastard, but somehow strangely feminine,” Ginny said conversationally. Draco growled at her.

“I wanted to say that to him. My father, after all.”

“Draco Malfoy,” Lucius said coldly as he rose from his seat. Draco flashed him a withering glance.

“Oh, go stuff it up your inbred arse, father. You can repair the damage yourself this time, instead of giving me up as a freewill offering, except it was your will, not mine.” Lucius gaped at Draco’s words and the icily contemptuous manner in which he delivered them. “Go tell Voldemort that we’ve slipped his leash.”

“Arooooo! Like wolves in the snow.” Mordred howled, and then cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

“Quite,” Vortigern drawled. “Go tell the Dark Lord that this time our blood shall not stain the sacrificial alters. We’ve had quite enough of that type of nonsense.” He looked around. “Can we get changed out of this disgusting muggle clothes now? We have had a most fatiguing few days.”

“Are you accusing Mr. Malfoy of consorting with You-Know-Who?” Fudge gasped in horror.

“Consorting? Slimy bastard fucking climbs into bed and cuddles up,” Mordred snorted in disgust.

“He’s one of the pillars of the wizarding community!”

“Shoddy workmanship then,” Spike said mockingly then ground his cigarette out beneath his boot. “I’ve had enough of this bloody nonsense. Ginny, Draco, let’s go. You three coming?” He didn’t wait for an answer and stepped out of the pentacle. Ginny and Draco flanked him and Azrael stalked after them. Lucius stood in front of him. “You’ve got stones mate, but unless you really *wanna* die right now, I’d suggest getting the hell out of my way.”

“Why bother, Master William?” Ginny said and she flashed Spike a look. He grinned and stepped back with a little bow.

“He’s all yours, luv.”

“Azrael. Hurt him, not kill, but incidental maiming would be overlooked. Have fun, sweetie.” Azrael yowled in triumph and sprang. Lucius went backwards with a hissing black fury clawing at any inch of exposed skin it could find. Although this started off as not very much it rapidly increased. “Nearly dying about five times really changes your perspective on things, Lucius. Tell Voldemort we’re coming for him, and we’re going to tear him a new hole with our teeth.”

“And then it’s a whip. One for every mark on Ginny’s shoulders,” Draco added.

“And then I exercise my own special gifts. Railroad spikes.”

“And then we become involved. Warn him, cur, warn thy master that we be coming.”

“GET IT OFF!”

“Somehow I don’t think he be listening,” Vortigern smirked. “The threats will continue to stand however.”

“Azrael! Heel!” Ginny snapped and Azrael sauntered over to her side. Lucius had his hands to his face and sleeves hanging off in him strips. They started off for the door again, and Spike quirked his eyebrow at Snape as he stood up.

“As interesting as this has been to observe, they are students of this school…”

“Yer point?”

“And as such are under our authority.”

Spike chuckled. “I can see I could get to like you at least. So. Ginny, my love, my wicked burning flame, where’s your room? Same for you, dragon. Let’s get your stuff together and skip out.”

“We may have outgrown this place slightly, but we need tempering, Spike,” Draco said. “Professor, it’s good to be back, except for seeing my father here.”

“Quite,” Snape said quietly. “What happened?”

“Voldie decided to play games. I went tripping. Spike saved me from dying. We were on a Hellmouth, the rules are different there. They came after me. Spike Claimed me and Draco. We saw his Sire who is Angelus, and has a soul. I nearly killed a Slayer. Voldemort possessed me a few times. It was quite the exciting wild ride.” Ginny yawned. “And now I’m dying for a good night’s sleep.”

“You’re not the one who had to be the focus of the spell,” Blaise said, arms around the twins’ shoulders, face wan with exhaustion. “Can we do this some other time? I’m about ready for the hospital, and soothing, soothing drugs. And sleep.” Blaise yawned widely, head drifting downwards. “Much, much sleep.”

“Fine. We kill, maim and torture later.” Mordred grinned before rolling his eyes. “Joking! Well, not really,” he murmured in an aside to Vortigern. “But he’s getting bloody heavy so let’s save the scolding for later, orright? Bad, naughty Slytherins, being decidedly un Slytherin-y and going after the chit to save her. Oh, smack on the wrist for you, you bad, bad boys.” Mordred and Vortigern started towards the door, Blaise hanging between them.

“We can explain better anyway, I think. But we’re not saying a word until Lucy leaves the room,” Ginny said, jerking her chin in Lucius’s direction.

“Preposterous!” Fudge said, waving his hands in the air.

“God save us from short bastards,” Spike sighed, then in a flash of vampiric speed crossed the room and slammed Fudge up against the wall by a hand on his throat. ‘Now. He’s leaving, or you get to be my first meal. I’m feeling kinda peckish.” Spike let his face shift, and he grinned a fang filled smile at the terrified and choking minister.

“Leave, Lucius!” Snape snapped at the still bleeding blond man, who had managed to regain his haughty sneer despite the tracks of scratch marks down his face. Lucius nodded coldly and left the room in a swirl of black robes. “He’s left.”

Spike dropped Fudge and ambled back over to Ginny and Draco, fumbling a cigarette into the corner of his mouth and cupping a lighter to his face to light it. “You don’t really think I would feed from him? Probably give me a bad case of tummyache. Eat him, when I have these two to drink from? *Please*.” He blew a stream of smoke in Dumbledore’s direction. “He’s old. Bitter. Not young enough to eat, but old enough to kill. But…” Spike’s tone made it clear this was a very great concession, “I won’t kill anyone while I’m here. Not a bite. Scout’s honour.”

“Spike, you were never a boy Scout,” Ginny giggled. He smacked her on the ass, and she yelped.

“Ate one once, should be close enough. You have my word as a master vampire that I won’t feed from the unwilling under this roof. Swear it on my line if I have to. I don’t bite, you don’t dust. Deal? For some reason, my Claimants want to stay here.”

“I think that would be acceptable.” Dumbledore nodded slowly. He could see the trust they had in the bleached blond vampire, Ginny and Draco. And for two who had broken off most human dealings, and almost every human emotion, this was a strange reaching out. But it seemed to be bringing something out in Draco he had never seen, and in Ginny the girl she could have been. So he would let it continue. “We will prepare a room, Master Spike.” He knew about vampires and Claiming. They would need a room…far out of earshot of anyone.

“Albus, you cannot honestly mean-“ McGonagall hissed.

“I do, and I have, Minerva. Look at them, and tell me you do not see the need for this.” Spike had Ginny wrapped in his arms as Draco talked with Snape, Draco even laughing at points. “I do not think we could stop it anyway,” he finished tiredly.

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