Buffy knew persuading the boggart to go to the hotel could take a while. With that in mind, she asked Tom to swap chores - she'd wash the evening dishes if he'd do the breakfast ones. It didn't surprise her that he accepted, he'd have been crazy not to, there were always more pots and pans to wash in the evening than at breakfast. When Tom set off for the kitchen, she went upstairs to deal with the boggart.

Up in her room, Buffy knelt and pulled out a cardboard box from under the bed. Inside the box was her gas mask. Buffy threw the mask under the bed, hoping the Germans hadn't planned a gas attack against London today, as she'd another use for the box.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the wardrobe, Buffy called out, "Here little boggarty, boggart," in the same sing-song voice that she might use to call a pet.

As soon as the boggart scratched on the wooden door, she opened it, expecting it to dive out. This time there was no sign of it. Had it read her mind? Every other time she called to it, it shot from the closet and zoomed around the ceiling excitedly.

"Come on little..." she paused, about to say boggart when another name came to her, "...Spikey."

She'd no idea why but that name felt familiar to her. Why? Where had she heard it before?

The room faded and in her mind's eye, Buffy saw a man - a vampire. He wore a long black duster coat that swirled around his calves as he strode towards her. His hair bleached blonde, bright blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and he wore a cocky and irritating smirk.

The memory faded and Buffy smiled. She'd a feeling that this vampire would be totally insulted to find out that she'd named a boggart after him. Spike, another face, another memory. That was saying those memories were real. Had she ever known a vampire called Spike?

She blinked away her thoughts and brought herself back to reality. A reality where she as trying to lure a supernatural creature from a closet so that she could take it on a ride on the bus. Her life was definitely full of the weird.

"Come on Little Spikey. I gonna need you to climb in the box so that we can go to the hotel. There'll be lots of people in there to scare. Like that evil hotel manager who threatened to throw our stuff into the street." Buffy really hoped that Little Spikey would scare him witless.

The boggart floated slowly to the front of the closet, its big round eyes peeking at her inquisitively.

"See here's the box." Buffy pointed to the empty box that she'd placed in front of her. "You need to climb in there and keep very quiet so when we go outside..."

The boggart shook its head and backed away. The thought of going out into the open during daylight terrifying it.

"You'll be hidden inside the dark box," Buffy explained. She picked up the box and showed it to it. "See? Just don't make a noise or let anyone see you until we get to the hotel. Once we're there, I'll find a dark spot to release you."

Buffy thought it was a shame that she couldn't tell Tom about the boggart and her boggart planting plans. She had a feeling that he'd approve. Despite his bookworm exterior, it was obvious that he had a penchant for mischief. He'd already impressed her with his lock picking skills and it would be handy to have him break into the manager's room for her.

The boggart bumped against her arm with its face.

"I know you're cute," said Buffy, "but I can't keep you. I don't live here and the orphanage kids are having a bad enough time as it is. I don't want you adding to their nightmares."

Now it hovered, its wide eyes gazing into hers pleadingly. She knew exactly what it was trying to do, it wanted her to change her mind and keep it.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you stay."

Tears welled up in its eyes.

Buffy hardened her heart and pointed at the box. "Nope, I can't. Little Spikey, please don't make this difficult for me. You need to go inside the box."

The boggart gave her a heartbroken look as it slowly descended into the box. Once safely inside, Buffy closed the lid and wrapped a piece of string around the whole thing to keep it shut. The boggart pushed on the lid and started scratching at the sides of the box.

"Shh. Keep quiet until we get to the hotel. Once we're somewhere safe I'll open the box." Hoping the boggart would do as she'd asked, Buffy looped the gas mask box's string handle over her shoulder and went off to find Tom.

…

Tom wasn't in the hall waiting for her as they'd planned, so Buffy continued down the corridor to the kitchen. As she grew closer, she heard the low murmur of voices and guessed someone must have delayed Tom. She listened closer, it was a boy's voice and he didn't sound like one of the younger kids.

Opening the kitchen door, she found Tom leaning against the kitchen counter and talking to the grocer's boy, Robbie. Although he wasn't the type she'd date, he'd been fun to talk to once he'd realised she didn't live next door to Roy Rogers and Errol Flynn.

"Hi, Robbie."

The blood drained from Robbie's face and he took a step back. "Buffy!" He shot Tom a worried look. Tom merely smiled faintly and Robbie went on, "Er, me ma's waitin' for me!"

With those words, he turned away so fast that he almost stumbled over his own feet. Then darted through the kitchen door, looked back over his shoulder at Buffy, and tripped over a child's tricycle.

As he untangled his leg from the bars, Buffy ran to the doorway. "Are you okay? Do you need any..."

Robbie gave her a horrified look, scrambled to his feet, and rang off.

"...help?" Buffy said to the empty space where Robbie had been.

Inside the kitchen, Tom dropped his head and wiped at his mouth, to hide his glee.

"What's wrong with him? Have I done something to upset him?" Buffy asked as she walked back into the kitchen. "He looked terrified."

Without missing a beat, Tom smoothly replied, "He has a nervous disposition."

"Strange, he looked fine talking to you. Then, when I appeared, he took off." She stopped by the sink unit, tilted her head and gave Tom a suspicious look. "Have you been saying something about me?"

"Me?!" Tom's eyebrows raised with indignation. "What have I done?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. She knew that, for some reason, Tom had a bee in his bonnet about Robbie. He'd already accused her of sneaking out the orphanage to meet him at night and suggested more than once something was going on between them. She also had a strong suspicion that it was Tom who'd told Mrs Cole that she was hiding under the stairs and leaving love letters for Robbie under the mop bucket.

"I believe," said Tom slowly, "that he has his good and his bad days. That would account for the mood swings and odd behaviour." Seeing that she looked unconvinced, he added, "Ask him yourself. I'm sure he would love to talk to you about his problems."

Buffy folded her arms and gave him a hard look that would make most demons nervous. "I might just do that and when I do, I'll bring your name into the conversation."

Although Tom maintained the honest expression, Buffy spotted a flicker of uncertainty in Tom's dark blue eyes. It seemed that now he was the one becoming nervous as he placed the neatly folded drying cloth down and said, "The next bus is due at quarter past. We'll need to hurry to catch it."

They left Wool's at a quick pace. Heading for one of the busier streets where Tom explained they'd able to catch a bus which would take them almost directly to Buffy's hotel. It was a Saturday morning and more people were on the streets than earlier in the week. Huddles of housewives stood outside doorways and gangs of children played hopscotch or swung from ropes they'd attached to lamp posts. Not far from the bus stop, they passed three young girls playing jump rope game and singing loudly in time to the swinging rope.

"My mother told me,

I never should,

Play with the witches

In the wood.

Catch them,

Drown them,

Burn them away,

Drive them off,

So gone they'll stay!"

Both Buffy and Tom looked over at them, Buffy curious about the song and Tom scowling. One of the girls, who had long greasy hair and a dirty face, poked her tongue out at him. Tom silently fumed.

"Is that like, an educational kid's song?" Buffy asked, thinking kids could be cruel but not seeing why Tom seemed to take it personally. "How to smite your enemies by burning and drowning. I guess, if you're a magic user, it isn't all that polite."

Tom, thrown by her comment, accidentally veered into her path, bumping into her, and sending the gas mask bouncing at her side. Buffy grabbed at it before the string slipped from her shoulder. She'd no idea what the boggart would turn into if the box broke open in the middle of the street and she didn't want to find out.

"Is this one ours?" Buffy asked a still bewildered Tom. There was a bus was rattling down the street towards them and if it was their bus, she didn't want to miss it.

Tom dragged his gaze away from her and waved the bus down. It drew up at the kerb beside them and the faces of passengers stared down at them from each of its windows. Tom grimaced, then looked at her intently. "I'd rather ride the Knight bus then get on this. What about you?"

"What's a night bus?" Buffy asked, climbing onto the bus's rear platform. From what she could see the bus looked overfull.

"Ah, nothing. Never mind." His face had closed off again and Buffy wondered if she'd missed something important.

As the conductress handed them their tickets, she told them that there was only one empty seat downstairs and that one of them would need to stand.

"Buffy, you take the seat down here," Tom said generously. "I'll go upstairs in case there's an empty one there."

Buffy sat on the empty seat next to an elderly man with thick grey hair and what looked like an itchy tweed jacket. After placing the gas mask on her knee, Buffy did a double-take when she spotted the headwear of the middle-aged woman in front of her. It looked as if someone had emptied a bowl of fake fruit onto her hat. There was even a bunch of red cherries dangling over the woman's right ear. Restraining a giggle, Buffy tore her eyes away to look at the rest of the passengers. It seemed most were regulars, most chatted to others while clutching shopping baskets and carriers on their knees.

The bus trundled along, stopping to let people on or off every so often. The elderly man next her opened up a large newspaper blocking Buffy's view of the street. It forced her to look across the aisle to the opposite windows so that she could keep track of their location. Not that she expected to recognise the stop she needed. She was relying on Tom to tell her where they were getting off.

The boggart scratched. Buffy placed her hands on top of the box, willing it to be quiet. The bus stopped and more people got off, leaving empty seats. Tom didn't come back downstairs and Buffy assumed that he'd already found a seat upstairs and their stop must be a good way off. She shuffled, feeling hot and uncomfortable and was just considering standing up and taking off her coat when the boggart scratched loudly and then, quite suddenly, the whole box jumped in her hands.

"That isn't your gas mask in there, is it?" The man next to her asked, folding away his newspaper.

"Er," Buffy began, not knowing how to answer that.

The boggart scratched hard at the box lid, desperate to come out.

"Shush!" Buffy tapped the top of the box with the palm of her hand.

"It's an animal, isn't it?" the man pressed. "You've got an animal inside your gas mask box."

Buffy panicked. Was he going to tell the conductress? What if they asked to see what kind of animal she was carrying? Was there a rule against carrying boggarts on buses? Did she have to pay extra?

The man continued, his face one of foreboding, "You do know if there is a gas raid you're in grave danger of blindness and severely damaged lungs? A gas mask box is there for your gas mask and not to carry small animals around in."

The woman sitting in front turned around to gape at Buffy. Her fruit bowl hat quivered, and she jabbed her finger at Buffy's box. "Have you got an animal in there?"

Other people were looking over at her and, before Buffy could deny it, the boggart scratched at the box again.

"Is it a kitten?" The woman's face softened. "I have a cat. He's called Monty. What's your kitten called?"

"Um, Spikey," mumbled Buffy. The crowded bus, nosy passengers, and the boggart were making her feel hot and bothered. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck. She wished she'd not worn a coat.

Hearing its name mentioned, Spikey scratched and butted at the lid wanting to come out. Buffy stifled a groan. This was getting out of hand. She should have subdued it with Great Expectations before setting off or brought the book with her at least. Not that she could risk opening the lid. Boggarts were fast and there was a good chance that it would escape and zoom around the bus before she could stop it. Buffy had a mental image of herself chasing the boggart up and down the aisles and it transforming into the bus drivers worst nightmare causing him to crash. She shuddered.

"Did you make any air-holes?" the man asked. His head was moving from side to side, trying to peer around the box. "How do you expect it to breathe? Not that I want you to let it out." He gave a long, deep cough. "I'm just saying, no oxygen and it will die – horribly."

"The lid is loose," Buffy replied. The lid wasn't loose, but she didn't think that something not alive needed oxygen to breathe.

"Fish heads," said the woman in the fruit bowl hat with a nod.

"What?" barked the man, bristling. "Are you insulting me?"

The woman gazed at him confused. "My cat, Monty, likes eating fish heads. Spikey might like them too."

They both looked at her, expecting an answer.

"Yeah, thanks. I'll bear that in mind." Buffy wanted the conversation over with. She could hear footsteps overhead and had a feeling that it was Tom on the way to the stairs.

"It needs oxygen as well as food," the man went on. "If you must bring it out again in future, make sure you create air-holes in the box."

"Yeah, thanks for the advice." Buffy climbed to her feet smiling politely. Tom had rung the bell and was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "Excuse me, this is my stop."

They alighted in the busy high street lined with shops. Buffy looking about her when someone banging on the bus window caught her attention. The elderly man pulled open the bus window and shouted, "Air-holes!" as the bus drew off.

"What in Merlin's name is that about?" Tom asked. He took her arm, guiding her towards an alley a short distance away.

Buffy hardly noticed the 'Merlin', her brain had frozen with mortification. She couldn't tell him the truth. At best he'd think she was nuts, or as he called it 'mental'.

"Um, it was just a conversation about cats. Nothing important."

He gave her one of his hard stares, as if he was trying to seek the truth in her eyes.

Buffy turned her face, scanning the nearest shop windows and seeing the small amounts of goods they had on display. The greengrocer's window even had a sign in the window showing a long list of unavailable products, yet Buffy could see a long line of shoppers waiting for what little food they did have. Further on, Buffy could see more lines of people waiting outside the butchers, costermongers, and the bakers. Rationing was really bad in wartime Britain.

"Cats?" Tom asked, refusing to let the subject drop as they entered the alley. "If you were discussing cats, why did he shout 'air-holes' at you?"

Yeah, as if she could tell him that she had a magical creature in her gas mask box and the man was worried in case it asphyxiated. She could just imagine Mr Bookworm's expression if she did.

The only thing she could do was play the incident down.

Buffy shrugged. "It just happened. I go through life having strange conversations with strange people." Which was kind of true, if all those memories were real.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Tom giving her a sharp look. No doubt wondering if she included him in that or wondering if she was more mental than he'd first thought. It was sort of embarrassing, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She stared at the ground, pretending to be fascinated with the ancient cobbles beneath her shoes and avoiding stepping into the small stone mud-filled gulley that ran down the centre of the alleyway.

The alleyway opened up onto the next street and Tom pointed over to the hotel where she and her mother had been staying. The Beaumaris was a square building set behind a small courtyard with an ornamental shrub planted on either side of the gate.

Buffy felt a stab of bitter disappointment. She didn't recognise it at all. It looked completely unfamiliar.

They climbed the steps and Tom pushed open the heavy door, allowing her to enter before him. The hotel foyer was old fashioned, decorated with dark red flocked wallpaper, Victorian fixtures, and dark cumbersome furniture. Over to one side was an alcove with an ornate fireplace and set with tables and chairs. Next to the empty fireplace a solitary man sat, a monocle in his eye, browsing the Times newspaper.

Tom rang the bell at the reception counter and a tall, thin man dressed in black like an undertaker emerged from the back office.

"May I help?" he asked, his tone discouraging.

Buffy had the feeling that the only help he'd like to give them, was kicking them out onto the street. Still, he wasn't a demon and his attitude was more annoying than intimidating. Pasting a bright smile onto her face, she said, "Hi, my name is Buffy Summers. My Mom and I have a room here, we-"

Non-payers," said the man coldly. He glared at her from over the top of his half-moon glasses. "You're lucky we haven't thrown all your baggage out into the street where it belongs."

Next to her, she felt Tom grow tense and her spidey-senses stirred to life. It made Buffy tilt her head, examining the tall boy more closely. Tom Riddle had set off her Slaydar before, yet Buffy was positive that he was only human.

Tom didn't notice her scrutiny. His focus solely was on the hotel manager and when he spoke, his voice rang with the authority of one used to giving orders. "The police informed you that Mrs Summers and her daughter were in an accident. Miss Summers is now here to collect her belongings and you will not hinder her."

His words made the hotel manager reappraise them both and after a moment, he shifted uncomfortably. To hide the fact he was on edge, he busied himself by flicking the pages of the hotel ledger. "Of course, sir, it's just the matter of the unpaid bill..."

Buffy took her Mom's wallet from out of her purse. That was an easy fix. "I'll pay you now. I intend to pack and move us out today."

After settling their account, Buffy took the hotel room key. "Can you tell me where my room is? I don't remember."

The manager continued writing in the hotel ledger. Without looking up, he waved a hand towards a set of stairs further back in the building that Buffy hadn't previously noticed.

"Third floor, right at the top. Room eighty is on the right. You have an hour to pack. Any longer and I'll need to charge extra." When Tom moved to follow Buffy, he looked up. "I'm sorry, but your boyfriend will need to wait down here. We don't allow unrelated members of the opposite sex in our rooms. This is a respectable establishment."

"I'm not her boyfriend," Tom replied quickly. The speed of it Buffy found kind of annoying. He went on, "I'm fine waiting here."

"Yeah, he's definitely not my type," Buffy added. She grabbed Tom's arm, pulling him into the alcove where the other resident sat.

"I do wish you wouldn't do that!" said Tom, pushing off her away and straightening his sleeve. "You should show more respect for me and my clothes."

"Har, har, I do have respect for clothes. It's you, you're like an old woman. " She ignored the withering look he gave her. "Seriously, are you okay waiting?" The man next to the fire looked up, watching them, the eye looking through the monocle bigger than the other.

"I'm fine. I shall stay here and read." Tom reached out a hand to twitch the string off her shoulder. "You can leave your gas mask with me while you pack."

"No!" Buffy quickly side-stepped away, holding onto the box. She gave him one of her Valley girl smiles, wide and vacant, to distract him. "Thanks, but I need to keep it at my side in case Hitler gasses me."

She walked off before he could argue. Silently, she cursed her life. Tom might set her teeth on edge sometimes, but he was still one of the most handsome boys that she'd seen and she knew she was coming across as... well, mental.

…...

A/N

Next chapter Buffy finds an upsetting clue in her room.

Thanks to those who left reviews.

laurellestars chapter 15 . Dec 9

This fanfic needs more reviews! It's refreshing to see a different starting point for a Harry Potter story. I like the Buffy/Tom budding relationship. :-)

**Thanks laurellestars! I wasn't going to do a Harry Potter Buffy crossover as there are so many good ones out there. Then I thought start at a different point. I hope you continue to enjoy it.

PebblePeak chapter 15 . Dec 3

haha Oh Tom, Buffy have never shown a single interest in the boy but you still felt the need to break his interest in her. It is a little amusing
Will the lie come back and bite you later on? Only time will tell.

Thanks for the mini chapter, love your story!

**Thanks PebblePeak!

Tom really hates sharing anything. Buffy is no exception.

Guest chapter 15 . Nov 28

Well that's one way to get rid of a rival.

**Thank you!

Tom Riddle can be creative

A Guestanother chapter 15 . Nov 27

Tom, this is going to explode in your face.

** Thank you for reviewing.

Poor Tom. Buffy is going to explode in his life.