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Better be... Gryffindor!

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Buffy and Spike were curled up on the couch, watching tv. Spike absentmindedly fed her popcorn, letting the snack fall into her mouth from where she was lying, snuggled on top of him. They had spent a good hour trying to figure out what to watch, but once Spike informed her that he'd never watched Harry Potter, the decision was quickly made.


Five movies, and six bags of popcorn later, they decided to take a break. Standing up from her perch, Buffy yawned, stretching her arms above her like a cat.


“What time is it?” she wondered curiously, brushing popcorn shavings off her shirt.


“Nearly five, love,” Spike replied, standing up and wrapping his arms around her.


“In the morning?” she squawked, eyes wide.


She hadn't even realized that much time had passed. She loved Harry Potter, so when she heard Spike hadn't seen the movies, it became her job to fix that. What kind of a person had never heard of Harry Potter, anyways? Spike seemed to know every other major movie out there, in fact he referenced Star Wars frequently.


Going over to the window however, Buffy realized he was right. Behind the blinds the sun was already out, and Buffy finally noted the fatigue in her body, as her eyelids fought to stay open.


“Bed time?” Spike suggested, nuzzling her neck.


“Bed time.” Buffy agreed, yawning again. Suddenly she let out a yelp, as her feet were swept away from the ground. Laughing, Buffy rested her head on Spike’s shoulder, as he carried her upstairs.


As he bounded up the steps, Buffy found her mind wandering to the movie.


“Spike?” she murmured, as he placed her on the bed.


“Yeh, love?” he asked, setting himself beside her.


“Let's play a game. I'm not tired yet,” Buffy said, yawning.


Chuckling, he nodded, brushing her hair away from her face.


“Alright. What game you wanna play?” he asked.


“How about...we sort everyone into houses?” she decided, lashes flickering between open and closed.


“Should be interesting enough. Alright, who to start with?”


“Willow. Where would she go?” Buffy asked, curious as to where Spike would place her.


“That one's easy. Ravenclaw. Red's scary smart, she is,” he told her, tracing patterns on her arm.


Buffy hummed at that, agreeing. “Dawn?”


“Gryffindor,” Spike replied. While Hufflepuff could definitely apply to the Bit, Gryffindor seemed like a more likely choice.


“What about Xander?” she asked curiously.


“Oh, Hufflepuff, definitely,” Spike replied immediately. “Hardworking, loyal - Harris fits a ‘Puff to the tee,” Spike added, snorting.


“Hey! There's no shame in being a Hufflepuff,” Buffy said, defending her friend.


“They're the nancy house. I mean, who really wants to be in Hufflepuff. They sound like a bunch of stoners,” Spike pointed out.


“You know, the author- J.K. Rowling - said she was a Hufflepuff,” Buffy replied, trying to make a good argument.


“Pish posh. She probably only said that so the poor sods who were sorted into Hufflepuff didn't feel so bad!” Spike retorted.


Buffy smacked him on the arm then, albeit teasingly as she leaned in for a kiss. “You're so mean,” she murmured, a smile on her lips as she pulled away.


“What about Angel?” she wondered, changing the subject.


Spike groaned, closing his eyes. “Hufflepuff,” Spike decided, not wanting to linger on the thought of his grandsire.


“Mm, I dunno. He doesn't really strike me as a Hufflepuff. Maybe a Gryffindor?” Buffy mused.


“No. No way,” Spike replied, eyes cracking open. “I'm not sharing a house with the magnificent poof.”


Rolling her eyes, Buffy pursed her lips, thinking. “Maybe Ravenclaw then?” She suggested, eliciting a laugh from Spike.


“No, not Ravenclaw,” she agreed, smirking. “Well, what then? I can't really see him as a Slytherin.” Angelus was a different matter.


“I know,” Spike said, grinning at her mischievously. “Muggle.”


“House Muggle?” Buffy repeated, confused and tired.


“Nope. Just Muggle. Figure a place like Hogwarts wouldn't let in brooding vampires with large foreheads,” Spike reasoned, making Buffy snort.


Buffy yawned again then, as she tried to stay awake. “What about me?” she asked him, burrowing into his chest.


“Gryffindor,” Spike replied, without hesitation. “Unwaveringly loyal. Brave, beyond belief. And good. You're so good, Buffy. God, you embody that house,” he said lovingly, as he held her in his arms.


She looked up at him then, eyes clouded with sleep. She still couldn't believe this was possible, that she was here in his arms. They'd been through so much together, and at times she still wondered if this was even real, or if it was just a dream.


How could he love her so much, just as she loved him? Sometimes she wondered if she deserved it. She had treated him so badly, once upon a time. Had taken him for granted. It was a miracle he stayed, a miracle that he came back to her, after sacrificing himself for them all. She thanked the stars that he did.


“What about me?” Spike whispered, running his fingers through her hair. “Don't suppose I'm a Ravenclaw. As much as I like to flatter myself, I'm not that smart. Or obsessed with knowledge.” Spike mused, as Buffy rested against him.


“Nah, I'm probably a Slytherin.” Spike figured. House of the evil and bad. Yeah, that was him. Because as much as he liked to pretend, he was still a bad man. He'd done horrible, unforgivable things. Things his soul tormented him about. Things he had nightmares over.


It still puzzled him, why Buffy had taken him back. Newly de-ghosted, he'd headed straight to her door. She'd moved, of course. And had been beyond surprised to see him. It had been a rocky reconciliation, but in the end she had admitted that what she had said before was true. That she loved him. He couldn't believe it. He still couldn't believe it at times.


Look at him. Getting all worked up and broody, over a fictional house sorting. Pathetic.


“Ha, no,” Buffy replied, voice amused and muffled against his side.


“Oh? And why not?” Spike asked, raising a brow.


“Please. Cunning and ambitious? Spike, you're the least cunning person I know,” Buffy pointed out. “No. I think you're a Gryffindor. You definitely fit the brash part of the bill,” she joked, before becoming serious. “But you're also brave. And loyal. You definitely have the qualities of a Gryffindor. And you're good, too, Spike. You're more good than you know.” She looked into his eyes, seeing the doubt there.


“I don't think so, love,” Spike whispered, eyes sad, and heart heavy.


“You are. To me, you are,” Buffy said, honesty and love radiating through her every word. To her, Spike was her everything.


She didn't think she'd ever known true love, not before him. Not even with Angel. It was a little girl, who had fallen in love with him. It was the little girl he had seen her as - young, sweet, innocent (and wow if that analogy didn't have a creep factor). But with Spike, she was a woman. He had fallen in love with all of her. Dark, gritty, ugly. He had seen her demons, and didn't shy away. Even when it felt like everyone had betrayed her, that no one understood - when her world had come crashing down, and she felt more lost and lonely than ever before - he was there. He had been the only good thing in her life, even if at the time she would have never admitted it. He had been her rock, and had continued to be that throughout. He had gotten his soul for her.


They brought out both the worst and the best in eachother. She was his sun, and he was her stars and moon. To her, he was more than good. He was perfect. Their past may be dark, but their future was bright.


Staring into her eyes, Spike smiled. He knew. He knew in his heart, just like she did. He may not fully believe her at times, he might not understand the goodness she saw in him. But he knew. He knew he loved her, and that she loved him. Really, truly, with no tricks in sight. She loved him.


“But if you don't believe me, guess that just leaves you in Hufflepuff,” Buffy reasoned, breaking the silence. She then ducked under the covers, giggling as she pulled them away from him.