A/N- So... I'm back! And hopefully for a while. I'm now done with my uni for the summer. Only having to work 9-5 seems like a holiday after spending all my evenings reading or in lectures for the last year.

I've noticed that over twisting the hellmouth and I have now breached the 1000 review mark. That's... just amazing. I'm always so surprised that even when I leave you for months on end, people still manage to find the story and (for the most part) enjoy it. Thank you everyone who reviewed, I hope you'll forgive me not responding to them all here, I'll try to send responses personally over the weekend but figured you'd all be more enthusiastic about an update ; )

Prophetic Changes

Buffy waited in front of the door, forcing down the paranoia which seemed to come all to readily, brought on by the week of interrupted sleep which had culminated in last night's tortured dream. This could be nothing, her head of house routinely called her to discuss her progress, and either way there was nothing to be done.

"Come in." Flitwick's response to her knock came through the wood, and with a final calming breath Buffy entered the room.

The professor's office was in its usual state of disarray with nearly every flat surface covered in precarious stacks of scrolls. A small section of the desk and a chair in front of it were all that remained bare.

"Miss Summers!" he cheerfully exclaimed when she sat down, no longer hidden from his view by the mountains of paper, "Thank you for coming."

"Angela said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes." Buffy couldn't help but shrink before his serious gaze as he stared at her, assessed her, "A situation arose, and it seemed best..." He trailed off, still looking at her intently, "We are about to start Apparition training for all sixth year students as by the end of the year they will be 17 and eligible to take the test. Since you are-"

"Do I have to?" Buffy interrupted.

"I'm sorry?"

"Do I have to take the Apparition test? Is it one of the exams I need to do before I can…" She waved vaguely to the west.

"Before you can apply to go home?" the professor completed her sentence with a sympathetic smile, "No, competence in the standard magical subjects is all that's required."

"Then I'd prefer not."

"Good." His voice held undisguised relief at her words, that strange focus that had so unnerved her disappearing.

"Good?" Buffy asked, confused as to why she had been offered the opportunity when it was quickly becoming clear that his earlier hesitation had been because he hadn't wanted her to take it.

"I advised against you joining the lessons but the Headmaster insisted that you be given the option." Her flash of disappointment at those words was unexpected. Buffy had come here with a crazed fear that she was about to be betrayed, given over to those who would make last nights dream real, but this type of betrayal was worse and all too real.

Her head of house had been the only one to accept her, encourage her. Of all the staff he was the one who found it easiest to work around the gaps in her knowledge without the disappointment, annoyance or, in the case of Potions, anger this caused her other teachers. Buffy didn't even want to learn how to Apparate, but being told that the man she had come in some small way to rely on thought she shouldn't even be given the option hurt.

"Oh, okay…" she trailed off, looking about for something to distract from this feeling. She quickly gave up and stood abruptly, keen to escape. "Well if that's all…"

"Buffy." The sound of her name paused her retreat; he had always remained so formal in their meetings that the use of her first name was a shock, "Please do not imagine that my reluctance has any baring on you or your efforts since coming here. What you have achieved in this short time is impressive but while your control over your powers is commendable it is not yet complete." He waited for her to take in those words, to turn back to face him with wary hope shining in her eyes, "Apparition is deceptively simple in it's results but overwhelmingly complex to perform. It does not use wand movements or words to form the shape of the spell, this is left entirely up to the caster."

The sense of betrayal returned, "So… you don't think I'm good enough to do it?"

"There are many fully qualified wizards who never get their licence or rarely use it for fear of the consequences if they make an error. We teach this skill to seventeen year olds because they have had nearly six years of training to control their power, they have passed the exams that prove they have managed that feat."

"That's what I need to do to go home isn't it – prove I can control my power." She paused, not wanting to voice the thought, "And if you don't think I'm good enough…"

"Miss Summers!" He squeaked in exasperation before continuing in a more contained manner, "I have no doubt that you will achieve what the immigration authorities require. As I said, there are Wizards who have completed their NEWTs, who choose not to apparate beyond necessity. Its why we have alternate forms of wizarding transport."

Reassured, Buffy managed a small smile for the man who returned it with a stunned expression.

"You…" he stopped himself and once again she felt the sense of recognition in his expression, the feeling that he knew more about her than he let on.

She followed his eyes to the notice board with Umbridge's latest decree pinned upon it. The order prevented teachers from discussing anything besides lessons with students but as her head of house, the Charms Master was permitted to speak of certain things outside his speciality.

"Never mind, that's all."

Buffy gave the man a long look, wondering again what it was he thought he knew. Whatever it might be, it was clear he had no intention risking his tenure by speaking of it now, she thought of their discussion before Christmas and felt a wave of regret that they would never now be able to have the conversation she had run from.

"and Buffy?"

"Yes?"

He glanced again at the bulletin upon the board detailing the most recent decree before fixing his attention on her with an open smile, "Happy Birthday."

And what was strange was that so far, for the most part it had been. In the years since she was called, Buffy couldn't remember a time when this celebration hadn't been tainted by her duties. Here all she had to fear was her dreams. Dreams that left her with a growing suspicion that something terrible was going to happen, or already had. She couldn't help but think that her respite was over, that they were a message that the holiday was ending and her real life was going to restart.

Then again perhaps it was only proof that she was finally cracking; unable to fully accept that here she didn't have to fight every night for her continued existence.


The coin in her pocket burned, it's harsh heat alerting Buffy to another meeting. A boy on the far side of the classroom started, jolting the student beside him, sending whatever the girl had been spooning into her cauldron flying across the table. In a flurry of robes the professor was upon them, pouring something into the cauldron before the fizzing red bubbles, which had already consumed the spoon, could overflow onto the desk. Even with his speed a few droplets escaped the cauldron, landing with a hiss on the wood and burning neat round dents into the surface.

He placed both students in detention before rounding on the girl behind them, snapping at her to "Stop staring at the only Galleon you'll see." Ginny quickly hid away the coin she had been surreptitiously viewing and returned all attention to her own potion.

At times like this Buffy wondered if she was really as bad at deception as she thought. It had always seemed like she didn't have to put much real effort into hiding her calling; people in Sunnydale were all too keen to explain away anything strange. But here were the Gryffindor forth years pointlessly flaunting their secrets, without thought to the consequences of their actions. They managed to make her look good.

Not that the others didn't seem able to hide their actions, Luna was as lost in her own world as ever, gently poking a twig into her bright green potion with the tip of her wand. Buffy frowned, looking over the details on brewing the potion without finding any mention of whatever the girl was doing. Although, she took another look at the girl's potion, which was now nearing the correct shade of yellow, a sharp contrast to her own browning mixture. What ever Luna was doing seemed to work.

Her own potion gurgled loudly in response to Buffy's intent gaze, earning her a sneer from the Professor but none of the more cutting remarks she was used to in her 5th year class. Of course, she considered as the man whisked off to correct another mishap, in that class Ravenclaw wasn't paired with Gryffindor and, while his prejudices against the house were well known, the Gryffindor half of the classroom was generally where the more dangerous accidents occurred. Whether or not this meant his bias had a reason, Buffy was glad that it distracted from his antagonism towards her.

The coin itself had been a surprise, she had thought that they would continue to let Neville tell her about upcoming meetings, that word of mouth was how they worked, but this did seem to be a more secure plan. At least it was when the members of D.A. managed to hide their reactions to the coin's change. Harry, strangely enough, hadn't objected to Hermione giving her this tactile evidence of the club. Although it might have more to do with their current states than a display of trust.

It was hard to worry too much about someone when you are bone tired, when that person matches your exhaustion. Someone seemingly about to collapse at any time just doesn't instil the same amount of concern as one vibrant and full of life. Though Buffy was functioning, and her magic was as yet unaffected by her dreams, she wasn't getting any proper sleep, every night haunted by repeats of the nightmare she had awoken from on her birthday.

This time when she entered the great hall with the coin still burning in her pocket, craving attention, Anthony didn't give her knowing looks; his excitement was directed towards other things. This news, like any other, had spread through the school like wildfire and standing at the end of the top table was the subject of the student body's excitement. He stood tall and proud, his face displaying no acknowledgement of the attention he was receiving, only the occasional clatter of hooves shuffling nervously in place betrayed his awareness of the scrutiny.

The only person openly unimpressed by the new Divination Professor was glaring down from the teacher's table at the enthusiasm of the students, her pursed lips only easing when her attention passed to the more restrained Slytherin table.

"I wouldn't look if I was you" Cho Chang commented from across the table.

"Huh?" Buffy asked, surprised that the girl was speaking to her. They weren't friends, and even with her attendance at D.A. solidifying other relationships, those with the older students had remained largely unchanged.

"At Dumb-bridge, she's been seething all day."

"Cho!" The sixth year's friend sitting the other side berated her.

"What? You know it's true. Our High and mighty Inquisitor is annoyed that Dumbledore appointed a professor without her permission – and to cap it off, he gave the job to a centaur!" Cho grinned.

"Why would that matter?"

She shrugged, "She doesn't like magical beings. Didn't you see what she was like when Lupin was here?"

Buffy thought about her tutor's visit, Umbridge's reaction to his presence had seemed like those made by many others although perhaps intensified by her forced proximity, "Yeah, but a lot of the students were scared of him." Buffy hadn't missed Marietta's flinch when the werewolf was mentioned, the girl getting more sullen as her friend insulted the D.A.D.A teacher.

"And for a good reason." The girl commented under her breath.

Not hearing her friend's comment, Cho relied to Buffy, "There's a difference between being cautious around a dangerous creature and actively trying to destroy their lives. Anyway, it's well known that Umbridge hates all humanoid magical creatures, she refuses to think of them as anything other than animals. What was she tried to do to the Sprites Mari?"

Cho finally turned to her friend, her expression changing to one of confusion when she saw how uncomfortable she had become, "She just made sure the clans cant get large enough to be a threat…"

"Yeah, destroying their way of life! And she changed the rules so that it is impossible for werewolves to get any work." Anthony broke in with his comments, having slipped in beside Buffy during the conversation. He glanced up at the head table and jumped in his seat when bulging eyes met his. "The next D.A.D.A. is going to be hell"

"It's a pity. She'd almost been getting better recently." The professor had apparently began to worry about her students passing the exams at the end of the year and had began to give them quizzes for part of the lesson. It was a sad sign that tests were considered respite from the forced silent reading. Even that had been more relaxed recently, the professor too distracted by her own thoughts to worry about her pupils passing notes.

"She was probably sitting there planning how she'd get rid of Trelawny. Not only did she get one upped by the Headmaster when he chose Firenze, Umbrige didn't even get to chuck her out of the school."

"When do you have it?"

"Last period"

Buffy couldn't help but grin at his forlorn expression, "Good luck. I've got until tomorrow."

"You too – you never know the wait might just give her time to seethe."

"Thanks." She laughed at the hope in his voice, and looked back to the top table not to the woman they'd been discussing but at the professor who was a real threat to her.

Buffy should have been scared. She should have been terrified by the recognition she saw twinkling in Firenze's bright blue eyes, worried by the prospect of being revealed, but like so many things at the moment she couldn't bring herself to care. Her days were spent in limbo, with memories of nightmares at the forefront of her mind, and the nights… at night she returned to hell.


She pulled wildly at the chains that bound her arms to the uneven rock of the walls that surrounded her. Dark hair flew around her face as she struggled to get out of the heavy manacles that were holding her. Anger rose up in her as she saw the strangely robed men that had trapped her here approaching through the cavern like room, positioning themselves on the unnatural markings on the stone floor-

Through a curtain of flames rose the beast, a creature larger than anything she had seen. She was so focussed on the snake's head rearing up before her that she barely avoided the tail whipping round…

A picture, an image in a book. A magnificent creature. Whispers echoed inside her mind, ordering her to speak, to tell them all she knew. Buffy rebelled, instinctively trying to do what she did when her thoughts were invaded, and somehow trapped in this dream that worked, helped hide her thoughts from this invading presence-

A huge creature running full pelt at her lent back on its powerful hind legs for a moment before leaping, teeth bared and claws outstretched…

Exhausted by her efforts of mind and body, she finally gave up her attempts to free herself and let herself fall limply from the chains that bound her to the rock that was her prison. Hair hanging matted and grubby around her face, she awaited the next action of her captors-

A tall man stood surrounded by black robed figures, their faces covered with masks, only slits showing the eyes of the people beneath, his own eyes flashed an intense red as he saw her and he moved aside to reveal…

Buffy sat straight upright in her bed and scrambled to get out of the sweat drenched sheets. She was still shaking from her own reactions to the dream and the slayer side of her was active, clamouring to escape from the chains she imposed upon it. Parts of the dream still seemed so real it felt like it was happening… or like a memory, but the others were fuzzy, distorted by strange echoes, reminiscent of her prophecy dreams.

Exhausted, Buffy glanced at the clock and rolled over, she may only be returning to a restless sleep but the last few weeks had proven that anything was better than nothing and she would get no rest undisturbed by dreams of torture.


It had been too long since Buffy had visited Rowena's study, not only because she was now with her friends on the evenings that they were absent from the common room, or even because of the effect her disturbed dreams had on her, but because of a scrap of parchment that risked revealing everything.

Buffy had thought that Harry's dislike was merely suspicion and jealousy left over from their encounter at the beginning of the year, but a confrontation in D.A quickly dissuaded that notion. The map that he used to ensure their safe passage from the D.A. room must go further than she had thought. He knew about her trips to the forest, or some of them at least, and wanted to know the reason for them. She regretted the anger her refusal to comment caused, not that he seemed to expect an explanation. He was merely letting her know that revealing his secret would result in a disclosure of her own.

Tonight she knew it was safe; Harry would be in a remedial potions class, according to the loud jeering comments made by Draco Malfoy following his discovery of this fact. Buffy had debated warning the boy about the man he was spending time with, but the hateful gaze directed to the staff table was evidence enough that rumours of the pairs mutual dislike were true. Harry wasn't about to trust a man, even one with the authority of a Professor, unless he was given good reason to.

But when Buffy entered the secret room, tired by the recent lack of sleep but energised in anticipation of the fight to come, her opponent was nowhere to be found. She searched through the rows of bookshelves surrounding the central room that the statue was normally waiting in but still could not locate Camilla. Realising that she wasn't in the domed room, Buffy went looking in the bedroom off Rowena's study and finally mounted the spiral staircase.

It was there, on the pagoda like structure on the roof of the school that she finally found Camilla. She was sitting on the edge of the platform looking east over the rooftops towards the forest and the moon rising in the dusky sky, her legs hanging down from between the bannisters of the railings over the drop below. When she failed to respond to Buffy's greeting she reached out and touched the statue, finding for the first time in months the hard, cold sensation of lifeless stone beneath her hand before it reluctantly transformed into the warmer living marble Buffy was used to.

"Why are you up here?" Buffy asked, hugging her arms around her body in an attempt to ward off the cool breeze that whipped about them.

"Why are you?" was the statue's retort, made without moving an inch. Stone was impervious to the weather. "I thought you weren't coming back."

Buffy laughed nervously, in an attempt to lighten the dark mood brought on by "Why would you think that?"

"Eventually they all stop coming back." Camilla still didn't move, didn't turn to look at Buffy and so instead she joined the statue in her vigil. That was the only reason she was close enough to hear the words that followed, "And I'm left alone again."

She hadn't thought before how many other slayers this girl must have known, trained, befriended and then lost. To think of that was to acknowledge her own mortality, that she was just another in a never-ending line of slayers. That her duty was to fight, to protect those who can't protect themselves, to die in the process.

"I just…" the statue continued after a lengthy pause, "I didn't want to be stuck in that room this time. If I have to wait again I want to see time pass me by."

They sat in silence, both trapped in their own thoughts of loss, of death. Watching the gibbous moon rise from behind the forest.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so long. It's been hard to get away-" Buffy started to explain but stopped. How do you apologise for, however inadvertently, making someone believe you were dead? Why would her Mother want to write to her if this was how she felt? No, Buffy shook off the thoughts that her mind too often travelled along lately, knowing that it was too long for any delusions of delayed mail to be true. She couldn't think of that now, now she had to deal with a thousand year old statue with an abandonment complex.

"I joined a club that meets in the evenings. You remember what I said about how useless the lessons in defence against the dark arts were?" That finally got a response from Camilla, a flicker of interest in the sullen expression as it turned to face her companion, "Well some of the students have a secret club to learn what the Professor wont teach them."

"You've been learning to fight with a wand?"

"Yes."

"What sort of spells?" for once Camilla was interested in something magical, it's potential in battles was the only aspect that was of any concern to her, and when she had learnt that Buffy wasn't being taught any of the spells involved in magical combat her attention quickly started to wander following any mention of Buffy's classes.

"It's mostly been simple things like disarming and shielding. Some counter curses too."

"Learning by repetition so the spells become instinctual?"

Buffy didn't bother to answer, just grinned in response to Camilla's knowledge of magical fighting. Or her understanding that it was in reality just like training in any physical combat, both spells and stances had to be repeated until the trainee was beyond bored, until they became ingrained in your muscle, in your magic. "We've even been learning to cast left handed so I should be able to have a sword as well."

The statue frowned, "That's not a good idea. Ric always said it was best to use your primary hand for a wand, something about the way the magic flowed."

"Okay, so I have to get better at wielding a sword left-handed won't I?"

"Yes" Camilla stood and headed downstairs, drawing her long knives and throwing a blade to Buffy as soon as they reached the domed room.

"Show me."


"Hedwig came back."

Buffy looked up, surprised to hear such an innocuous statement in amongst the taunts and jibes flying alongside spells across the field. She had ended up near to the three Gryffindors who were refereeing the battle; close enough to hear their conversation as they observed the fights.

The D.A. room she had entered earlier that evening was completely different to its usual appearance. Instead of a classroom, the club was dotted about a huge cavernous space that was strangely reminiscent of the great hall at the Federal Bureau in Salem. This too was a gigantic cave, but where that space had been tamed into something civilized, this was still wild, raw rock providing hiding places and distractions. These rare examples of the true power of magic were disconcerting at times; a seemingly simple room able to appear as both one thing and another.

She assessed her surroundings, spotting the Weasley twins just before her casting off spell after spell towards Michael Corner and Zacharias Smith. One of the twin's wands jumped from his hand as a spell got in past a momentarily lowered shield and Buffy tensed, ready to leave her spot and help her teammates. Before she could come to their aid they moved, the other twin, George according to the 'G' on his jumper, threw his own wand towards his brother and diving towards the discarded weapon. Fred quickly shielded the stunners directed at him and managed to stun Zacharias, who had turned from him without checking that his spells had impacted. A moment later Michael joined his friend on the ground, limbs flailing uncontrollably, taken down by George who had retrieved his twin's wand.

"How is he? What did he say about…" the interest in Hermione's voice disappeared as she yelled, "Stunners, shields and disarming spells only George, 10 min off the field. Smith you're out for 5."

"What? He wasn't even using his own wand when he stunned me." Zacharias yelled once released, Hermione and Ron countering the curses on him and Michael.

"It doesn't matter what wand they used – you were stunned so you're out of the game for 5 min, those are the rules." Ron shouted at the boy who finally did as instructed, moving over to join George in the safe zone, where combatants were to wait our of the battle for five minutes once taken down.

"Merlin!" Ron continued at a lower volume to his friends, "He was the one who complained about us not having 'realistic' fights, what's more real than using every advantage?"

"They can switch wands?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, they've always been able to"

"And they still get as good results?" They watched Fred prove this point by sending off a collection of spells to incapacitate a still reeling Michael, his brother's wand in hand, "Wow."

"What's Smith's problem with it anyway?" Harry asked.

"Well… it's pretty rare to be able to use someone else's wand that easily."

"It is?"

"Each wand grows to fit a wizards magic so it will always work best for its owner, spells from another's wand are often weak, misdirected or go wrong. You have to be pretty powerful or have very similar magical resonances to get good results." Hermione glanced back at Fred "I suppose it's not that surprising, family members are often close enough magically to use one another's wands, but rarely that well."

The trio watched the fight before them in silence until Hermione prompted Harry to continue their earlier conversation, "What did Lupin say?"

With the level of noise rising as members became engrossed in the battle, it was hard to make out their conversation, but the mention of Remus caught Buffy's attention.

"He's fine." Harry sighed; handing a roll of parchment to the girl that was eagerly unrolled, her eyes darting across the page. "He doesn't really say anything about it, just that they're busy." Ron looked at Harry sharply at the bitter tone in his voice; he shrugged, shaking away some of the anger and continuing with an air of resignation, "I don't know where it came from, but Hedwig's exhausted."

"What do you think they could be doing?" Ron asked eagerly, not seeming to notice the scowl his words caused in his friend.

Harry shrugged, a haunted look that Buffy knew all to well flickering over his features "I don't know… after the breakout he kept getting happier, excited and then…"

Instinctively Buffy raised a shield, deflecting the spell coming towards her and turned to find a grinning Cho quickly casting a barrage of spells towards her. As she fought Buffy struggled to remain in range of the Gryffindor's conversation, keen to hear anything she could about the werewolf.

"You really shouldn't-" Hermione bit off her reprimand.

"Don't Hermione, he's trying okay. Maybe it just has to get worse before it gets better." Ron paused, "You are trying, right."

"Of course." Harry answered, all to quickly.

"But Harry, these dreams-" Hermione began, only to be cut off.

"Dreams?" He angrily turned to Ron.

"Harry don't be silly, Ron didn't need to tell anyone. Last night, you woke half the tower. You just need to-"

"I am trying!" he yelled, getting the attention of many of those fighting before continuing in a fierce whisper, "It's not like I want to see…"

"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked patiently when it became evident that Harry wasn't going to continue, "They've been bad since January. Even if it does normally get worse before it gets better, shouldn't it be improving by now? How are the exercises-"

"It's not easy to clear your mind, it's not easy to do anything when you haven't really slept in a fortnight. Especially with Snape attacking me at least once a week…"

"Why wont you tell us-"

They stood in silence for so long that Buffy thought the conversation was over; they hadn't said much about her… friend… teacher… it was hard to say what the werewolf was to her. To quantify the relationship that had developed over a single day from a spark of understanding into a blaze that somehow bound them. But as Buffy allowed her attention to wander from the trio, Harry finally answered, and his words changed everything.

"She's our age." He started, almost unaware of Hermione as he finally spoke of his nightmares, "Every night I go into the room where she's chained to the floor and torture her."

Hermione's gasp overlaid Buffy's, masking her eavesdropping now that her entire attention was focussed on the group, "Harry, you have to tell the Headmaster!"

"What good would it do? I don't know where she is. If the Order knew where he was hiding, they would have attacked months ago. There's no way to save her."

"Then what…" she stopped when Harry ignored her interruption.

"The worst part is that every time I feel his disappointment I know they've failed, I know she hasn't told them yet, I know they will be doing worse to her soon… and I can't help but feel a bit glad, because whatever it is she knows, he thinks that will make all the difference."

In the moment when Buffy knew for certain, knew that Harry was somehow seeing what she was dreaming of, a spell flew at her and knocked her off her feet.

~ to be continued... ~

Why does nothing end up coming out quite as I expected? Ah well... at least we're moving towards some answers to those questions you've all been at me to reveal. Please try to remember though... that, in my experience anyway, the answer to one question generally only raises even more questions (often of the 'Why?' variety... but that could just be because I have a 5yr old nephew).