Treasures Abound

Title: Treasures Abound
Sequel to "Treasure Hunting"
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Pairing: W/Bill Weasley
Genre: BtVS/HP Crossover
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon and/or whomever else is currently claiming ownership of them. Harry Potter and company belong to JK Rowling. I am none of these people and do not claim to own anything other than my sad little plot.
Distribution: Anyone who has "Treasure Hunting". WLF, NHA, BMP, WLS, Aislin, Serena.
Author's Notes: Takes place about three months after the events of "Treasure Hunting".
Feedback: PLEASE?

~*~Part One~*~

The dungeons were cold, but Severus Snape didn't feel it. Maybe it was due to years of working in them, living in them, doing everything God could have possibly allowed - all within the dark, chilled confines of the dungeon. That was a suitable theory. But it wasn't the right one.

He didn't feel the cold because he was past feeling.

His body still ached from hours of undergoing the Cruciatus, the pain filling his limbs until he was no longer able to stand and could scarcely think. This wasn't punishment for any supposed crime he had committed against the Dark Lord. No, this was just his special form of greeting his favorites and keeping them in line.
At least Lucius had to go through the same thing, his brain sneered.

Apparating back to the edge of Hogsmeade, Severus had sat for hours alone and wretched, willing the energy back into his body so that he could, finally, stumble along the pathway back to the school, past the gates, and into the halls. It was easier then, to take the shortcuts that led, eventually, down to the dungeons and into his classroom. There he had discovered that he just didn't have the strength to move any further.

So now he was sitting, and thinking, but he couldn't feel the coldness. He couldn't feel the chill that was so intense that it, at times, began to congeal some of the more temperamental ingredients in his stores. His head ached but not nearly so much as every single muscle in his body. He only wanted to lie down and rest, but there was no energy for that.

And, besides, his overworked brain wouldn't allow it.

Not when he had bigger matters to figure out, plans that needed working before such time as he sought the Headmaster out to give him the details of this last 'Revel'. He had to come up with a way to keep her safe.

Her.

His Assistant.

The brightest Potions Assistant he could have ever hoped to find, even if he didn't come right out and say so to her face. But her intelligence hadn't escaped the sharp eyes of the students. Most specifically, the Slytherin students. Damn his House! Why did they have to play on the wrong side and tattle about school comings and goings to their precious Death Eater parents. Was it Malfoy? Or Goyle? Avery? Crabbe? Perhaps Parkinson? The list went on and on. Even now, after knowing these students for years, he had no clue where their true loyalties lie. It could be any one of them that was running back to their parents with every shred of information they found. It could be all of them or just one. He had no way of knowing.

Until they turned seventeen. Just a few more years and he'd see who was loyal and who was not, when they were led before the Dark Lord to receive the Mark that would brand them for the rest of their lives.

But that was a topic for another day. He couldn't afford to think too long or too hard on what the future may hold for his students, especially when the future of Miss Willow Rosenberg was hanging in such desperate balance. She was out right now, off on a weekend retreat with her boyfriend, Bill Weasley. He didn't know where they were nor did Dumbledore. And perhaps that was best. If they didn't know then it was doubtful that anyone that could harm her knew either. Let the ever soppy romantic couple have their time away. When the weekend ended things had to change.

The Dark Lord had made it quite clear that he wanted the new Potions Assistant either taken care of permanently or lured over to their side. Neither was a feasible plan of action of Severus, but he couldn't say that to his 'Lord', his 'Master', for fear that the Cruciatus curse would turn into the Killing curse. At least this way he could attempt to think of a plan to save her, all the while acting the part of the obedient servant. She was too much of a liability to the Dark Lord as it stood. Either she would turn to the Dark or she would be destroyed, if not by him, then by another of the inner circle or whatever up and coming youngster was out to make a name for himself.

He allowed his head to drop into his hands, unable to stave off the shaking aftereffects of the Cruciatus any longer. His body felt like it was cramping up and he toppled to the floor, his head impacting much harder than would be healthy with the stone of the floor. Slowly blackness overcame his thoughts, chasing off the plaguing worries with the sweet arms of unconsciousness.

~*~*~

Willow woke in a cold sweat, sitting up so suddenly in the bed she was sharing with Bill that his arm was flung rather ungraciously back to his body, fwapping him in the chest and eliciting a startled cry from his mouth. She turned, an apology on her lips.

"Was it another nightmare?"

She shut her mouth, nodding at him. Her nightmares had gotten more frequent in the past week, waking her once or twice a night - sometimes screaming, sometimes crying, and other times, like now, just gasping for a breath.

"Same as before?" Bill pushed her gently.

"Yeah. Same as before. Nameless black evil thingy. Shadows. Chasing me. The mouth of Hell opening. The usual." She flopped back onto her pillow, squinching her eyes shut.

"Maybe you should tell Dumbledore about this." Bill murmured, tracing loving patters of delicate, feathery touches on the bare skin of her arm. In the moonlight pouring through the window she looked so ethereal, much like a porcelain angel. "Its been happening more and more often, sweetie."

Willow nodded, her eyes still shut, as though by keeping them closed she could face the very real possibility that her dreams were a warning of some kind.

But of what?

"I'll tell him when we get back Sunday night." She finally conceded, allowing Bill to pull her into his arms. His long red hair was loose, spilling out over the pillow like hers often did. She smiled in the darkness at him, hilarity finding its way to the fore of her damaged emotions.

"We look like we're related."

Bill snorted.

"Guess we've damned our children to the curse of the Weasley red hair."

Willow smiled, filled with happiness at the term 'our children'. It seemed like a forgone conclusion to him that they would marry and, one day, have kids. Little witches and wizards that would carry the Weasley name into the next generation at Hogwarts. But Bill hadn't mentioned marriage yet, and it gave her the opportune time to tease him.

"We have to get married first, Bill. Unless we plan on having those children out of wedlock? Hmm? Your mother would have our hides."

Bill stilled and Willow wondered if she had said the wrong thing. She felt him move, his right arm hanging down off the side of the bed and fumbling around. And then he was holding something up in front of her. A little box.

Willow felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes going frantically between him and the box. Him and the box, as she waited for him to speak.

"I was going to do this last night." He murmured, sitting up. He looked down at her, his hair falling like a silken curtain about his face. "But some little vixen distracted me the second we got in the room."

She blushed, the nervousness in her stomach being pushed aside for one moment by pure lust at the reminder of the night before. Were her underwear still there, by the door?

Before she could go into a more detailed remembrance of the night before or where her clothing had ended up, Bill was speaking again.

"I know its only been three months, but its been a bloody wonderful three months." He continued, his eyes focused on hers. "And, I was wondering..."

He flipped the box open with his thumb, exposing the tasteful ring within it. A single diamond sat in the center, cut in the shape of a heart, with small rubies encrusting the band. She reached for it, her hand trembling.

"Is that a yes?" Bill asked, hopeful, watching her progress.

"Yes!" She cried out, joyous. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

He grinned, pulling the ring out for her and slipping it gently on her finger. He felt her lips crash into his while he was still just admiring the way the ring sparkled on her finger. Abandoning himself to the pleasurous thanks she was willing to lavish on his, Bill set about pleasing his new fiance with all the skill he posessed.

~*~Part Two~*~

Upon arriving back at the school, her weekend with Bill at an end, Willow discovered that not all was right with the world.

"He's in the infirmary, still." Minerva told her, gently, when asked at long last where Severus was. She had looked high and low for him upon returning to the school, but had been unable to locate him in the dungeons, and no one had answered her knock at the door to his private rooms. It was finally at dinner that she had been forced to ask.

"Infirmary?" Willow gasped, her eyes widening with shock. "What happened? Why didn't anyone call me?"

The Transfiguration Professor hid a smile at the younger woman's worried, harried look. It was a well-known fact amongst the staff that Professor Rosenberg doted on Professor Snape like a daughter would to a father. She had even managed to convince him that cleaning charms just didn't do his hair justice, forcing a bottle of organic shampoo on him.

"He was Called while you were gone, Willow." Minerva told her quietly, the look in her eyes making it clear that she didn't mean Severus had been the victim of a nasty phone call, even if there were such things in Hogwarts.

"Oh dear Goddess." Willow whispered, shutting her eyes briefly to stave off the tears that threatened to pour from them. She forced a ragged sigh from her lips, wiping the tears that had formed away with the back of her hand. "Is he going to be alright?"

"As well as he normally is, yes." Minerva nodded. "Though I do not know how many more trips like this he can make before he suffers more serious permanent damage."

Willow nodded, blinking blearily at her food. How many times in the last weeks had she tried to convince him that no amount of spying was worth the pain he was going through? She could still remember, in vivid detail, the manner in which she had first found him after a Calling. He had been on the pathway leading up to the school, on his knees. His face had been contorted in such pain that it seemed almost unreal, like a mask. His body had spasmed with pain even while she was trying to get him to his feet so that she could get him in the castle. In the end, it had taken a spell to get him inside, hovering him gently above the ground as she cried and guided him into Hogwarts.

And now he had been Called again.

She shuddered in revulsion.

"If I ever get my hands on this Dark Lord of yours." She whispered angrily. "He will rue the day he ever decided to try to become king of the Evil doing."

Minerva didn't have to look into Willow's angry emerald eyes to know that the younger witch was speaking nothing but the truth. She felt the same way, after all. As did Sprout, and Dumbledore, and all of the other Professors in the school. She would gladly lay down her morals for one moment, just long enough to cast the Killing Curse, if only she could get close enough to the bastard to do so.

"We will avenge everything he has ever done to Severus, and everyone else, one day, my child." She murmured reassuringly. "For now, we must have patience."

"Never one of my strong suites." Willow muttered. She drew her napkin from her lap and laid it on the table. "I'm going to go see him. Make sure he doesn't need anything."

And share some good news, her brain reminded her. She had wanted him to know first, out of all of the Professors, since he was most like a father to her. She knew that Minerva might be a little hurt that she didn't mention the engagement to her during dinner, but that was okay. Minerva would get over the slight insult. It was Severus that Willow was worried about.

She left the Great Hall, moving swiftly through the empty school hallways. Only another month or so and then it would be the winter holidays.

Yule.

The time when she and Bill had decided to have their ceremony. Just her, him and some of their closest friends and family. And, of course, all of their coworkers; though Bill had assured her that none of the Gringotts goblins were likely to show up, invited or no.

'A very good thing.' She snickered silently, still racing through the halls of Hogwarts. Those goblins gave her the serious wiggins. They were just so sneaky, suspicious, creepy looking! Like something Buffy would have slain on the Hellmouth.

Buffy.

'Damnit!' She berated herself for even bringing up her friend. Only two letters had arrived since she left Sunnydale. One from Buffy. One from Xander. She had sent owls, regular letters, and had even hotwired her laptop to work off of pure magic so that she could send emails. But she had received only those two, tiny responses. It hurt, like an ache in her chest where her heart was supposed to be beating. Xander was her best friend since elementary school, and now he was too busy caught up in his own life to even write to her?

The red haired witch sighed, pushing open the door of the infirmary and walking in. For once the beds at the front, usually filled with students, were empty.

"He's in the back." Poppy's voice called out quietly from her office. Willow smiled. There wasn't a thing that went on in this infirmary that Madam Pomfrey wasn't aware of.

The walk from the front of the infirmary to the back wasn't normally a long one. In fact, by all accounts it should only take a few, long strides. But Willow wasn't in a hurry. She was terrified to see what had happened to her mentor -now-. He was always so strong in class, so firm when teaching. To see him break down and succumb to pain or sickness was almost too much. It definitely would shock the students if they ever were to see.

Which most definitely couldn't be allowed.

If he wasn't better by the next morning she would just have to make up some sort of cover story and teach the day's classes herself. There was no way she would allow the students to know of their Potion Master's weaknesses or pains. Those were his own private moments, to be shared only with those he trusted.

And he certainly couldn't trust a good portion of the students enrolled at the school. Not just Slytherins, either. Willow had reason to believe that there could possibly be some Gryffindors and maybe even some Ravenclaws that were playing for the wrong side. No Hufflepuffs, though. They were too likely to gossip amongst themselves and be found out if they were hiding anything nefarious.

By the time Willow had managed to give her own little mental dissertation on why Hufflepuffs could never be Dark Witches and Wizards, she had reached the curtain separating the back of the infirmary from the prying eyes of whomever walked in the front door. She drew aside the curtain, slipping inside with hardly a whisper of cloth. There was only a single candle burning on the nightstand, magic keeping the wax from dripping to the wood. It scarcely gave off enough light for her to see by, though she knew the reason it was kept burning so low. He would likely have an awful headache still, the type that no amount of pain relief potion could subdue. It would fade, usually within the first two days of his return from visiting with the Dark Lord. But, in the meantime he would not be able to bear any but the softest light, and even that would prove to be painful at times.

"Severus?" She whispered hesitantly. "Are you awake."

The silence stretched out before her and she began to feel that yes, perhaps he was asleep.

"Miss Rosenberg?"

She could scarcely hear his whisper; so faint it was above the sound of her own breathing. Kneeling next to his bedside, she took one of his hands in her own, wincing at the cold, clamminess of it.

"Does it hurt much?"

A dry chuckled escaped from the Potion Master's lips, though it was followed rapidly by a grimace of pain. His eyes were still closed or she would have unfortunately seen them cloud over with genuine anguish.

"Only as much as it normally does."

"Ah." She murmured, neither in comfort that would be meaningless amidst so much pain nor with flippancy. It was merely a muttered syllable of acceptance. All they could do now was wait, to make him as comfortable as possible until such time as they aftereffects of the Cruciatus left him entirely.

"Did you learn anything important?" She ventured after a few moments.

"Very much so." He replied evenly. "Though I cannot divulge that nature of that to you as of yet. Dumbledore has not even had a chance to take my report. He has been too busy, I believe."

"Or maybe they are just allowing you to recover before interrogating you?" Willow quipped, smiling gently at him, despite the fact that he could not see the gesture.

"Perhaps." A soft tilt of his head sufficed as a nod of acceptance.

Willow ran her thumb over the back of her Master's hand, taking a deep breath.

"I looked for you when I first came back, because I had some news I wanted to share with you first. Before anyone else, that is." And now it was that her breath caught in her throat. This man was her mentor, she thought of him so much like a father.

"Bill asked me to marry him. And I have said yes. I'll still stay your Assistant, of course." She rushed to add.

She held her breath, waiting for his response and needing his approval just as she would have needed her own biological father's had he been in any way close to her.

"I am pleased for you." He said at last, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth indicating his own sad version of a smile. It wasn't much, but it was what Willow expected from him. This was his own taciturn approval of her plans. "You will be running off now to tell Minerva and Albus?"

It was a dismissal as sure as she'd ever heard one. He was tired, needed his rest.

"Of course." She murmured, releasing his hand at last, letting it fall gently back to the bed. He looked so pale in the candlelight. So much so that she was already thinking up what to tell the students in the morning. She was more than capable of teaching the class, and anything that arose out of her own range of skill could easily be fobbed off to another day. "I'll be back before bed. Send someone for me if you need anything special brewed."

Severus listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps on the floor, then the door swinging open and closed. He exhaled a sigh of remorse. She was getting married and he was genuinely happy for her. Marriage was a wonderful thing for those that had the stomach for it, unlike himself. The love she felt for Bill Weasley was second to none, as well. They were a good match, for sure.

But her love gave Voldemort one more way to hurt her if he wished.

And that was not a good thing at all.

~*~End Parts 1-2~*~