(In this scenario, Willow did turn evil because of Tara's death, but Tara who watched from heaven knew the only way to save Willow and the world was to somehow bring herself back to life. With the help of Osiris and many other dark forces, she was successful, and together her and Xander persuaded Willow just in time.)

Spike, still leaning conspicuously against the fireplace in the lifeless pub, thought about the look he'd just seen in Buffy's eyes; could it count as longing? Could it even count as anything? A part of him hoped it was want, it was need...and then he caught himself thinking about her, and mentally slapped himself. What was he doing? She was the slayer. She killed his kind. And there was no way she would ever feel anything for him. Was there? Did she?

"Come on, it should be clear now." Lupin broke the silence that had been quickly gathering dust. Startled, Spike took a handful of powder, announced his destination, and disappeared into a whirl of unnatural emerald flames.

Lupin waited patiently, wiling away the minutes thinking about Tonks and Teddy; what they would be doing next weekend, whether to buy Teddy his first box of puking pastilles or his first toy broomstick for Christmas...these sort of things were the subjects that mostly filled his busy brain. Ducking into the fireplace, he too was sucked into the darkness, but for him the ordeal was simply normal. He stepped calmly and cleanly out of the fireplace when he reached Dumbledore's, and observed Buffy and Spike standing bewildered, covered in soot. He could see the laugh twinkling in Dumbledore's piercing eyes, and managed to stifle his own. The two witches also stood a few feet away, hands twitching nervously.

"Alas, we are together at last. There are many things to discuss." Dumbledore smiled. "You, the Slayer, and you...the vampire of all the vampires...with a soul! And Willow, the witch who went bad...and Tara, who did all she could to return and revive her. It truly is a miraculous thing." He looked from one to the other, not judging, but seeing more than most people ever saw in either of them. She wasn't just Buffy, the 'vulnerable', mouthy blonde, and he wasn't just a good looking guy in a leather jacket. They both held beneath them a tangled web of emotions and memories, and a maturity that would never usually be visible to the eye.

"Yes, it's very nice to meet all of you. Yes." Dumbledore trailed off, evidently lost in his thoughts. Buffy recalled the time when she first met Riley, and she's knocked some psychology books on to his head and he'd said it was nice to meet her: and stupidly, she'd replied with a dumb smile, 'I'm nice to meet.' Allowing time for her head to fill with more reasonable replies, she simply said, "You too."

"So," Spike said, "first things first. What exactly are we gonna be...doing around here?"

"Well, as you know, all three of you are over the age limit for attending Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, this does not render you useless, if my opinion remains valid." Dumbledoor surveyed Lupin over his half-moon spectacles, sharing an inside joke of some sort. Spike had read about the villain of this school, Severus Snape, and wondered if he opposed to the Slayer, the Vampire and the two witches joining in the 'frivolous fun' that was to be had. "Therefore, we believe that you may join the school as...well, as assistants, in a sense. You may live in a sort of school limbo style, where you may attend lessons as you please, either in the role of student or advisor. You may sit in the great hall with us, the teachers, but you may sleep in dormitories as well as your allocated rooms. You will, interestingly, have to be sorted before anything can be officially decided."

"Sorted?" Willow asked, trembling.

"Don't worry yourself, Red, it won't hurt a bit. It'll test your morals real good though...this is gonna be interesting." Spike said, unhelpfully. Tara squeezed Willow's hand by way of encouragement, and Willow grimaced in a brave sort of way.

"Now, if you could follow Lupin downstairs, he will lead you to McGonagall who will take you to the hall to be sorted. It's a little late for the usual sortings, and the students may be a little...excited. Good luck!"

Lupin gestured to them to exit, and they filed awkwardly out of the stone archway, feeling large and clumsy as though they were at Sunnydale High but were much too big. Buffy hoped it wasn't going to be a re-run of her high school days, because that was certainly how she felt.

They reached a spiralling stone staircase and walked down carefully – well, Spike more sort of sauntered down, in the same way that he sauntered casually through the rest of the echoing corridors. Keeping his cool, Willow thought. She also thought that it really wasn't working.

Buffy, however, was marvelling at the fact that he managed such a cool walk whilst being such a loser. She loved the way he walked. Like he was constantly the predator.

They reached an important-looking doorway, where there was an even more important looking lady waiting for them. She had a sharp accent to match her sharp eyes; it was obvious she wouldn't miss a trick.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I am Minerva McGonagall. There is no time for sweet meetings; we must continue to the sorting immediately. Once the hat chooses a place for you, you must find yourself a seat on the allocated table. Let us continue."

A flick of her wrist and the doors heaved themselves open to reveal a chattering, robe-clad crowd of students who all fell silent upon the entry of the four outsiders. Spike instantly scanned the room for the legendary Harry Potter, but could not find him. Dismayed, he tried to figure out which teacher was which, and found himself doing rather well.

The four of them were led self-conciously to the front of the hall, where a disgusting, filthy man pulled a ragged old stool on to a raised stage. On the stool was positioned a leathery old hat; Willow's head was filled with insane torture rituals that involved hats and she tried miserably to push them away.

McGonagall stood on the stage, and the four of them waited below.

"Students, please welcome our guests with your cheeriest hello."

There was a pause, and then two identical voices began to belt out;

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald,
Or young with scabby knees
Our heads could do with filling,
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."

By the end, the rest of the students had joined in, until Buffy, Willow, Tara and Spike were laughing comfortably. They really felt welcome, surprisingly; more so than they had ever done at Sunnydale High.

"Let the sorting of the four commence." McGonagall smiled, warmed by the singing voices.

"Maclay, Tara." She read out. "Come forward please."

Tara stepped uncomfortably up to the platform, unsure of what to do. McGonagall instructed her to sit on the stool, and place the hat on her head. She did so, and sat for a second waiting.

"WITCH! I can smell you a mile away. Thousands in this school, but you...you...you have power. But your witchy little friend has power too, yes? Stinks, stinks right through my tip...loyalty. You are true to your kind, true to your kin...and love, so much love! Tainted by pain...by humiliation...by rejection. Memories still etched in your mind...forever...yet so very loyal. There's only one choice for you, isn't there...I think we all know it...Gryffindor!"

Tara, having no idea what this meant, grinned at her friends awkwardly and sat down to the table cheering her with red and golden Lion flags waving busily above her. All the Gryffindor's smiled encouragingly, and she relaxed slightly. The nerves she felt remained only for her shyness, and the thought that Willow might not be sorted the same as her...

"Rosenberg, Willow." was the next name read out. Willow dragged herself reluctantly up to the stool, and went overly red under the eyes of hundreds of inquisitive students. She yanked the hat on, almost over her eyes...

"Another one. A strong one. With power...don't block me out! You can't stop me, I'm in your mind...you've had trouble, you've been trouble...confusion, child, so much confusion. What do you want, eh? Yet what do you need? A lot of control, yes, so much control forced upon you...and fear of loss...but again, loyalty. Rather you than any of your friends. Sacrifices are difficult, that much is true...and in your heart is love, too. You're a strong little one, aren't you...angry at some...loving to others...pleasantly warm...such a strong witch...but you're pulled towards your witchy friend, I feel it...well, if that's how you feel...Gryffindor!"

Willow was incredibly relieved. She had no idea what Gryffindor really meant, but Tara was there, so she would survive.

"Next...William Pratt? Also known as Spike...?" McGonagall said, sceptically. Spike winked at Buffy as he left her to be sorted, and she shivered involuntarily and then realised she still couldn't remember competely Albus What-ledore's name.

Spike pulled the hat down over his short white hair and looked up at it, trying to disguise the fear in his eyes with scorn. Buffy could see right through it.

"You! What creature is this?" it screeched. McGonagall jumped over to it, yanked it off his head and smothered its mouth, throwing it quickly into a back room. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," she said loudly, "please wait a few minutes. We have some...technical problems." she lowered her cutting voice, and said casually to Buffy and Spike, "you two, follow me." They did so, exchanging nervous glances, Buffy's mind dancing as she looked into his eyes.

They walked through the door behind the teacher's table, which shut swiftly after them. Buffy suddenly became much more aware that there was no way out, and tensed herself for pouncing if it was necessary.

"Now," McGonagall said, "it's a sad fact, William, that we simply can't have the students knowing of your true nature. Please don't be offended; Lupin himself is a werewolf, but hardly any of the students know. There would just be too many complaints if we were to be housing a vampire, no matter how soulful he is said to be. As a result of this, the sorting will have to be performed back here." She passed the hat to Spike, who nodded in acceptance, and pulled it on once more.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted..." the hat twisted its way to where McGonagall was standing, wringing her hands impatiently, " what creature are you? A vampire, that I know, but your soul is simply burning with passion, with emotion. Oh, you've done some bad things in your time...some mean things...so many desperate faces...but you're not responsible, are you not? You still take the guilt...so much guilt...everlasting...immortality...repent, you have...tried to make it better...stuck to your friends...loyalty, but for love. Love, love is strong," (At this point, Spike's pale cheeks burned unusually red) "and your will for doing good is also. You have bravery, much bravery...or is it stupidity?" the hat laughed. "Ignorance or courage? You've read about me, I see...got me sussed...know where you want to be. Would've been Slytherin, eh? Teaching your lookalike Mr Malfoy your dirty tricks? Not anymore...not the Spike with a soul...where do you want to be, big bad?..." there was a pause. "In that case, it's for the best...Gryffindor it is!"

Spike whipped the hat off faster than is humanly possible (conveniently, considering his inhumanity) and grinned childishly. "Gryffindor!" he said. "I'm a Gryffindor!" Buffy could see the guilt draining away in his eyes just a tiny, tiny bit, because in a sense he had been slightly forgiven for some of his sins. He was worthy of Gryffindor. It made him happier than he'd ever admit, and she was happy to know that. She felt the overwhelming urge to hug him – and so she did. God, he's tall, she thought as she did. It was warm and comfortable, and then she stepped away awkwardly, and returned to normal, sensible Buffy. If there ever was one.

"Finally, Miss Summers, I believe it's your turn." Buffy took the hat, and placed it gently on. She wasn't afraid of it; she was just afraid of what it would give away.

"Ah! I've been looking forward to this." it breathed. "The Slayer, the Chosen One, the Good Guy. Done a lot for the world, haven't you...modesty, regret, unsatisfied. No recognition. So very happy with your friends...comfortable...warm...sadness at the loss. The Slayers lost, your mother lost, your friends lost. So much sadness. So very unhappy...yet so very optimistic...and again, the loyalty! Running theme with you all...never let them down, put them first, do what you can, sacrifice it all. And oh, the sacrifices. So painful. The guilt, the killings, the sacrifices. The dilemmas, the lack of purpose, are you an evil being? Questions...so many questions...and the love is so strong. The devotion. Fear, once again, of humiliation...the darkness you desire, the edge...the something...you've been let down, torn down, pushed down. Clamber back up. Deep mind, such a deep mind...clever eh, Buffy...strong, stronger than you thought, but not invincible...fear of leaving them behind...you're a confusing one. But I haven't got a choice, have I? I g'et seconds to read your complex mind, but it's pointless, because you're going where your friends are...and I'd put you there anyway, your bravery is simply intense...you know what I'm saying, Summers. Gryffindor!"

Buffy jumped up, crazily glad and lucky that she was staying with the four people she loved. She smiled. "That was the most confusing hat I've ever worn." she said to Spike, as they were led back into the fidgeting hall.