Hogwarts Breakfast.

Breakfast at Hogwarts was a relaxed affair. Students drifted into the Great Hall and sleepily took a seat at their house tables. Gradually, the hall grew noisier as more and more students came to breakfast and the sound of cutlery clattering against plates and chatter filled the chamber.

After visiting the nurse, Buffy chose to sit next to Travers again. As she slid into the seat, the boy stopped reading his book and covered the pages with his hands to hide the text. He shot her a glare of pure venom, his expression shouting, 'Go Away!'

Humming happily to herself, Buffy took no notice. She'd only sat next to him to put some distance between herself and Tom.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

"Is it? And what makes it a good morning?" the surly boy retorted. He sank his teeth into a slice of toast and chewed it whilst waiting for an answer.

"We're alive for a start," Buffy replied, reaching for the jug and pouring pumpkin juice into her glass. Madam Bones had declared the demon bite fully healed and hadn't suspected anything else at work other than dittany. It had been a relief for Buffy, she'd been worried in case the nurse became suspicious about her accelerated healing ability.

"And is that the only thing good about today? The lack of death?" drawled Travers, disgruntled that Buffy had chosen to sit next to him again. Her presence drew attention to him and that was something he preferred to avoid.

Buffy shrugged a shoulder, more intent on her breakfast than the dour boy. As she spread the rich golden butter across slices of toast, she remembered breakfasts at Wools orphanage and the oily margarine Mrs Cole had given them. The memory had her sending an involuntary look up the table.

Tom was in his usual spot - sandwiched between Malfoy and Avery - with a plate of food in front of him. He reached for the jug of pumpkin juice in the middle of the table, his dark hair falling forward over his eyes. Over on the opposite side of the table, Penelope Parkinson's seat was empty, and so was Dorothea's.

Not wanting Tom to catch her staring, Buffy leaned back in her seat, scanning the Ravenclaw table for her cousin. She caught Lovell's eyes, smiled, and waved. The boy next to him stared at her and nudged Lovell. Buffy couldn't hear what he said, but she read Lovell's lips easily enough when he replied, "Yes, Buffy is my cousin."

When she turned back to the Slytherin table, she found that Uma and Fiona were putting their bags down and taking the empty seats opposite.

"We've decided to come and sit wiv you," Uma said.

Travers gave a loud snort of annoyance, put his book away, and began attacking his breakfast.

"But I thought you two sat..." Buffy looked up the table, caught Tom's eye and quickly looked away. "...um, with the Pawing Parkinsons?"

The girls stopped piling bacon and fried eggs onto their plate and gaped at her. Then, they laughed. Next to Buffy, Travers choked and grabbed his napkin, pressing it to his mouth.

"Want me to slap you on the back?" Buffy asked him.

Travers' eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head. Grabbing his glass of juice, he took a small sip and then another until his coughing subsided.

"We don't want to sit up there any more," Uma said, piling mushrooms and tomatoes onto her plate. "They call us rude names and make mooncalf eyes at the boys."

"And Buffy is right. They paw..." Fiona grinned, forking bacon into her mouth, "...at Malfoy, Riddle and Lestrange when they come in range."

"Talking about me, girls?" a boy's voice asked from behind Buffy. "I'm flattered."

Buffy looked up at Marcus Lestrange, and both Fiona and Uma became flustered.

Dropping into the seat next to Buffy, Lestrange said, "You don't mind me joining you, do you?"

"Um, no."

Travers looked up from his breakfast – suddenly wary.

"Good morning, ladies," drawled Lestrange. He stared at Travers, considering him for a long moment, before adding coldly, "and Trav-ers."

Buffy's eyes darted from one boy to the other. That hadn't exactly been a friendly greeting, it sounded more like a begrudging acknowledgement.

"Lestrange," Travers responded in kind. "Do excuse me." He rose and left the table, his breakfast only half-eaten.

Puzzled by the sharp exit, Buffy watched him scurry away from the Slytherin table. He kept his head down, to avoid looking at anyone, his black robes billowing out behind him as he almost ran from the room.

"Are you enjoying Hogwarts, Miss Summers?" Lestrange asked. He'd began adding food from the serving dishes, unconcerned by Travers' sudden departure.

Buffy pulled her eyes from Travers to contemplate the boy next to her. Did he and Travers have a history together? When you were the new girl in school it was all guesswork. You had no idea who was friends with who, and who hated each other. Sometimes, social occasions were a minefield.

'Welcome to Sunnydale,' a voice whispered in her head and gears shifted in her mind. Zoning out, Buffy's memories of another first day at another high school began resurfacing. Her Mom had driven her to school and dropped her off in front, she'd crossed the green space, walking past gangs of normal teenagers and gone directly to the principal's office. His name was Robert Flutie and he'd torn up her transcripts, telling her to think of this as a new start.

"Miss Summers?" Lestrange touched her hand, and Buffy blinked as Hogwarts' Great Hall came sharply back into focus.

If Crabbe and Goyle had noticed that she'd zoned out it hadn't bothered them, they were simply eating and watching her with no sign of censure. Lestrange was looking exasperated. Buffy guessed that he was more used to girls fawning over him than ignoring him.

"I was asking if you'd enjoyed Hogwarts so far?" Lestrange repeated.

"I'm sorry, I keep getting mind-drift. Hogwarts? Yep, you could say it's been... um, eventful," she replied truthfully.

Exasperation vanished, and Lestrange's grin was one of genuine amusement. "A jinxed trolley and a dramatic dive into the lake on your way here. You really are a master of grand entrances."

"Dumbledore said the same thing after I'd been fished from the lake," Buffy admitted. Behind Lestrange, she could see Tom watching them, his handsome face marred by a puzzled frown.

"Most of us thought you'd end up in Dumbledore's House after that dramatic rescue," mused Lestrange, not noticing her distraction. He didn't add that they'd taken bets and only he and Riddle thought she might become a Slytherin.

At Dumbledore's name, Buffy looked over her shoulder to the Gryffindor table on the opposite side of the hall. Professor Dumbledore, resplendent in maroon and purple robes, was busy handing out envelopes to his student. It was hard to tell from this distance, but Buffy didn't think he looked like a man who'd missed out on sleep. The man looked far too jolly. Which meant if Spikey hadn't gone off scaring Dumbledore disguised as Grindelwald, who had he been scaring?

While she was distracted watching Dumbledore, Lestrange took the opportunity to study her face. "When I first met you in Flourish and Blott's I thought you'd be either a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff. Oddly," he mused, "it was my father who said you were destined for Slytherin. He believes there is more to you than meets the eye."

For a moment, he thought Buffy had zoned out once more and hadn't heard him, but when she turned back she met his eyes and replied perceptively, "There's more to everyone than what first meets the eye. Everyone has their own secrets, don't you think?"

Lestrange dropped his eyes to his plate, wondering at the comment and not sure how to respond. The sight of Professor Slughorn making his way up the table saved him. "Oh, look. Sluggy is approaching with our timetables. I hope I have plenty of free time for studying in the library. This year is going to be extra intense with the OWL exams this summer."

Buffy grimaced, she had a nasty feeling that she might fail - spectacularly.

"There you are Miss Lovegood-Summers. Welcome to Slytherin," Professor Horace Slughorn exclaimed with a cheerful smile. The wizard was round-faced, round-bellied and balding. Unlike Dumbledore, he wore a restrained brown tweed suit with a matching bow tie. "Professor Dumbledore has told me all about you."

Buffy pouted and batted her eyelashes. "Don't believe any of it," she said, taking the proffered envelope from the professor. "None of it is true."

For a second, Horace Slughorn was gobsmacked. Then he rocked back on his heels and let out a soft crow of laughter. "Oh, my dear! Albus told me nothing bad. He said that you were brave, resourceful, eager to learn, and loyal, he never said that you were..." He chuckled, leaving Buffy wondering what he'd stopped short of saying. "My dear, a charming girl like yourself will fit nicely into Slytherin. Oh yes, most definitely you will."

Then his expression sharpened, becoming something far more calculating as he scanned her face intently. Buffy forced herself to keep smiling under the man's scrutiny. It felt as if he was assessing her market value.

"She'll do, she'll do," the professor muttered under his breath, not realising Buffy heard him. Raising his voice he went on. "I wonder if you'd like to join a little club of mine? It's nothing fancy. I like to invite former students of mine to lunch and introduce them to the students I'm currently teaching. I'd like it if you could join us at the next one."

"Sure," Buffy agreed politely, "if you want me. I'm there."

Lovell had told her about the Slug Club over the summer. Slughorn chose well-connected or exceptionally clever students to join him for lunch or dinner. Buffy hadn't a clue why he wanted her to attend. Not only was she behind with her education, but she also wasn't related to anyone remotely famous or powerful.

Horace Slughorn dished out timetables to Lestrange, Uma and Fiona. "I shall let you know the date once I've arranged it. Lestrange, I hope you will continue to grace us with your presence?" After Lestrange agreed, he moved on, calling out a greeting to Malfoy, Avery, and Riddle.

Buffy bowed her head, twisting the napkin on her lap as she thought over this new turn of events. Now she was a Slytherin, she thought she'd escaped Dumbledore's curiosity. Instead, she'd gained Slughorn's. Buffy wondered if she should sabotage his luncheon. Or would that make him more watchful and cautious of her? Her reverie was interrupted by Lestrange plucking the now ragged napkin from her fingers and throwing it onto the table.

"Don't look so worried," he said quietly. "Horace Slughorn has an uncanny ability to pinpoint students with the potential to become something out of the ordinary. He chose you because you have it."

"I've never been invited," Uma said. "I mustn't have any sign of 'it'. Whatever 'it' is."

Buffy looked up sharply. Was she jealous? But if Uma was bothered by the lack of invitation to Slughorn's lunches, it hadn't put her off her food.

"Rather you than me," Fiona said, adding beans to her plate. "Honestly, I see teachers too much as it is."

That made Buffy smile, she thought the same.

"What subjects are you taking, Buffy?" Lestrange asked. He'd unfolded his timetable and spread it out onto the table beside his plate. "Besides the seven core subjects, I'm taking two electives, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. It gives me plenty of time to do all the extra reading so I can achieve top grades in the core subjects. I want to study magical law next year."

Buffy tilted her head as she studied Lestrange's timetable. Then, with a feeling of deep gut-clenching foreboding, she unfolded her own. When she'd laid it out flat, she stared down at the full timetable and felt like throwing up. Dumbledore must have used a Confundus Charm on her to make her agree to all this.

"I signed up for four electives. Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Divination, and Care of Magical Creatures.

"How many?" the question came from three different directions.

"You must be a genius taking four when you've only just started learning," said Uma.

Lestrange twitched her timetable towards him, examining the densely packed schedule with disbelief. "Are you sure you've never studied magic before? Do you know how much work that will be?"

"Arithmancy and Runes are my best subjects," Buffy explained. It was true, she was better at those than any of the core ones she had to take. "And I wanted to try Care of Magic Creatures because it sounded interesting."

She didn't add that as a Slayer, she needed to know the magical from the demonic. She didn't want to mix the two up and go around slaying innocent pets and wiping out rare species because they looked unusual.

"And what about Divination?" Lestrange asked, tapping her timetable.

"I didn't want to take that, Dumbledore made me do it," Buffy explained. "He said sometimes the ability runs in families and I may have it." She had every intention of dropping the subject as soon as she could. From what she remembered, foretelling the future was more confusing than helpful.

Lestrange tilted his chin, regarding her from under hooded eyes. "Are there any Seers in your family?"

"Not that I know of," Buffy muttered darkly. She'd asked her Mom, who'd become evasive and talked of Benedicta Bones and her great-grandfather Lovegood who'd gone off to live with fairies. "The only thing I can foresee is too much homework and my brain exploding from the pressure."

Marcus ran a finger over her timetable, comparing it to his own. "We don't share any free periods."

He sounded as if he were complaining. Buffy watched him silently as he continued to examine her timetable and compare it to his own. She wasn't sure what to make of him or his dual personality father.

Lestrange spotted something else on Buffy's timetable that surprised him. "You're taking two extra-curricular classes on top of everything else! Ghoul Studies and Ancient Studies. Why do you want to study those?" He wasn't faking his amazement.

"I used to have a teacher who was a history buff." In Giles case, it had been Ancient Demonic history. She went on, "And, I guess, something must have rubbed off on me."

"And Ghoul Studies?"

"I thought it looked, kinda, interesting." She'd signed up for the course as Dumbledore had told her it covered boggarts.

Across the table, Uma and Fiona let out snorts of amusement.

Fiona stopped eating. "Don't bring your study subjects back with you. The grindylows are enough to deal with, we don't want a ghoul as well."

"Am I missing something?" asked Lestrange.

Uma nodded. "We woke up to grindylows banging on the window. We don't need a collection of ghosts, boggarts, and ghouls moaning and groaning in the bedroom as well."

Knowing that they were already sharing with a boggart, Buffy reddened. Unable to meet their eyes, she looked away and caught sight of Tom, his arms crossed, glaring down the table at her and Lestrange. Buffy stared back, wondering what she'd done wrong now. Did he not like Uma and Fiona sitting with her? Or was it Lestrange he was objecting to?

Buffy's eyes drifted to Marcus Lestrange. Lestrange was oblivious to Tom's anger. He leaned against her, studying her timetable and listening to Fiona explain how they'd driven off the grindylows. Did Tom dislike Lestrange or was Tom jealous? The thought made a burst of giddy laughter bubble up inside Buffy, and she dipped her head to cover the grin.

Further up the table, a glowering Tom Riddle wondered what Buffy thought was so amusing.

…...

AN;

Thanks to those who left comments on the last chapter. I guess only a few enjoyed it. :-( Am I updating too quickly? Should I slow down?

Hope this one goes down better?

Travers is related to the Travers who run the Watchers Council. If Buffy can get past his defences she might learn some interesting information.

Lestrange is not as open and friendly as he seems and Tom... poor Tom is wondering why his knights are friends with the annoying blonde Slayer who has invaded his school and his head.