This is not mine, the character belong to various other people and I just find great enjoyment in ruining their fictional lives.

Anyway her is the next part which, after weeks of not being able to write anything, just seemed to sort of appear on its own today. It's a bit shorter than usual, but it seemed to come to a natural conclusion, so here it is.

Part eleven

'Hey Red, what are you doing in there?' Spike had been sitting in the living area of their rooms for the past five minutes listening to the constant flow of noise coming from Willow's room. It was too quiet for even his vamp hearing to make any sense of but it was enough to pique his curiosity.

He waited for an answer, finally getting up and moving towards the door to her room, knocking gently, 'open the door luv.'

Again he got no answer and finally he just pushed at the door, surprised to find it locked. He pressed his ear against the smooth wood door and listened intently, realising that the red head was talking but unable to sort out the words. He stood for a moment wondering whether to just leave her to finish whatever she was up to or force the door.

The decision was made when a strong smell of blood filled the room, originating from behind the door he was standing at. Within seconds he was in the room, the door a splintered mess of wood behind him.

Instantly he saw Willow curled up on the bed bleeding freely from her wrists and ankles, thinking quickly he grabbed pillows beside her and began tearing their covers, forming makeshift bandages which he wrapped tightly around the open wounds to stem the blood flow.

He closed his hands around the bandages on her wrists, trying to add to the pressure, unsure whether he should get help. 'Come on luv, you need to heal yourself,' he got no response and as worried as he was about her, the scent of her blood was driving him crazy.

'Spike?' her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up, with glazed eyes at the vampire cradling her.

'You have to heal yourself luv, I cant leave long enough to get anyone else to do it for you. Do it for me, please, I don't want to lose you, it would hurt too much.' His final words seemed to have an effect and he reluctantly allowed her to pull her hand away from him so she could heal the opposite wrist and her other wounds.

'I can't hurt you too, I've caused too much pain.' She spoke softly as the last cut closed and all the energy seemed to drain out of her leaving her collapsed back against Spike crying silently into his chest.

If anyone had walked in at that moment they would have been shocked at the scene in front of them, as the two lovers lay in a mess of blood and destroyed pillows.

After an hour of simply holding her, Spike gently scooped the bloody redhead into his arms and carried her through to the bathroom to get them both cleaned up.

The advantage of baths in the wizarding community is that as well as them being of epic proportions, they fill almost instantaneously and it took very little time for Spike to lift her in and begin to sponge off the dried blood. 'What did you do to yourself?' He muttered quietly as he washed her matted hair.

'I had to feel their pain.' Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible as though she was talking to herself more than to him.

'Who's pain?' to say he was confused would be putting it mildly, but as much as he wanted to force the answers from her, he simply continued to clean her gently, hoping to sooth the pain of whatever was torturing her.

'The men, in the shop. What I did to them, they were human, it doesn't matter what they did in the past I had no right, no right.' Her voice had risen growing louder as she grew angry with herself, but tailed off as tears once again flowed down her cheeks.

'Why are you talking in the past tense pet, they're not dead.' Spike was surprised as her head swung round violently and Willow stared directly into his eyes, as though trying to judge the truth of his words.

'But...' she paused, obviously trying to collect her thoughts before starting again, 'but you killed them, I tortured them and left you to kill them.' She shook with the force of her emotions, her mind running in overdrive, attempting to process this new information.

'But I didn't, the magic twisted you, not that I'm complaining, you were bloody wonderful,' seeing that his choice of words weren't exactly helping, he quickly moved on, 'but it wasn't the real you, and I had a feeling you might regret those actions. So I left them, you know, alive. If you decode the book you will save hundreds of lives, including Harry, it will be worth it.' He felt the girl relax slightly and he paused a moment before adding, 'And don't you dare tell anyone about this, they'll think I've gone soft.' The small smile she directed at him was enough to make his day and left him wondering just when exactly he had become so pathetically sappy.

Harry had once again found Willow camped out in the library. She had been there for days, pouring over a tatty, leather bound book, making amazing piles of notes, which were now completely covering the surfaces of three large tables. Spike would appear at regular intervals and drag her away from whatever it was she was doing to get some rest or food, or anything he could really convince her to do before she insisted on returning.

After failing to get an answer from Willow, Harry had tried to get the blonde vampire to tell him something, but all he had got was a muttered comment about redemption and 'making it worth the pain' which pretty much left him more confused than before.

He was getting seriously worried, his sister had been in the same research obsessed state of mind for over a week and as he wandered along a corridor towards the library, he was considering asking Dumbledore to step in. He was so deep in thought than when he reached the library it took him a moment to register the sight before him.

Willow was standing on the table doing some kind of dance, an enormous smile plastered on her face as Harry simple stood and stared in shock.

Seconds latter, the ecstatic redhead spotted him and leaped of the table and ran towards him, throwing her arms around him and spinning him round in a circle. 'I got it, I finally got it!' She sang the words and pulled away from him, continuing the dance he had seen before.

'W-w-what did you get?' Harry stuttered as he finally overcame his disbelief and found his voice.

'The book, I finally got it to decode itself, it's always blood, I need to go find Spike.' On that cryptic note she skipped off down the corridor, presumable in search of Spike, leaving Harry behind, alone, with the source of this entire mystery directly in front of him. If Willow had been thinking clearly, she would have known better.

Harry quickly strode over to the multiple tables where Willow had been working and picked up the small book that seemed to be the cause of her recent mood swings.

He opened it to the first page and read the title, having to spend a moment deciphering the handwritten black scrawl, 'The biography of the greatest man of our time.' Not exactly a catchy title, but after the hype, he had to give it a chance.

Moments later he was reading eagerly, devouring page after page about his arch nemesis, his life, his climb to power, his original plans, his talents. He was finally beginning to appreciate the true worth and power of this book, somewhere within its pages was the information they needed to destroy the dark Lord, he just knew it instinctively. This book was the key.

He turned another page, reading the title with interest, 'The Soul Shield', he had no idea what that was, but it sounded interesting, so he read down the page, as he reached the end, the implications of the shield began to sink in and the book fell from his hands, crashing to the floor. Voldemort was using his their souls, his parents were in a place of perpetual torment.

Spike stood still, an amused smile on his face as Willow bounced around him. It had taken him a few minutes to pick out the cause of her happiness from the excited babble, but now that he had he was genuinely pleased.

She had been so tortured with guilt over those worthless pieces of wizard @#%$. She had become obsessed with decoding the book they had given her, needing to try to justify the pain she had inflicted. Now that she had figured it out it was as though all her problems had been solved. Intellectually both he and she knew it wouldn't last, the real world would come crashing in sometime soon and ruin the party, but for now they were happy.

On the other side of the castle Harry crouched in a corner, his head buried in his knees and his body shaking from the force of his misery.

He didn't know how long he had been there but finally he felt as though he had run out of tears and his misery became overshadowed by anger and hate. Willow hadn't managed to kill Voldemort, but he would, nothing would stop him.

A/N ok so I came to the conclusion that Willow was getting way too dark, so I thought I'd write a happy little interlude, but unfortunately I couldn't seem to write this chapter without there being a lot of pain and agony. Sorry.