Slayer not Seer.

Buffy leaned forward, her nose so close to the glass that it almost touched it. The reflection seemed to taunt. While some things appeared clearly, others were shadowed and indistinct. Why? If the mirror showed your innermost desires, why were hers hazy? Was it because she didn't know her own heart? Or was it because of amnesia?

"What do you see?" Dumbledore asked from behind her. The desk where he'd perched creaked as he shifted his weight. "Has the image changed?"

Tired of his questions, Buffy gave him a challenging look. "If you're so interested, why don't you come over and take a look for yourself?"

He regarded her steadily; silently giving her the time to work out why for herself.

Buffy frowned and tilted her head to read the writing above the glass once more. "Ah! You can't. Anyone who looks into the mirror of Erised will see only their own desire."

Dumbledore beamed. "Excellent! Two points to Slytherin. The mirror is charmed to show only the beholder's deepest wish. Now, what does the mirror reveal about your innermost desires?"

"Wait. I... I'm gonna need a minute to process it." Pointing her wand at the floor, she murmured the cleaning Charm her uncle had taught her and watched with satisfaction as the dirt and dust vanished. Then she sat cross-legged on the floor and began smoothing out the creases in her skirt as she examined the image in front of her.

When she'd seen her old friends and family in the mirror's reflection, she'd felt almost overwhelmed by gut-wrenching sense of loss. Now that been replaced by a new set of emotions – confusion, fascination, and a trickle of wariness. Was this really her innermost desire? In and of itself, she guessed wasn't that unusual. Most people wanted something similar from life and she supposed she didn't have anything to gain by hiding it.

Dumbledore cleared his throat noisily. Buffy rolled her eyes. God, that guy was not only nosy, he was also impatient! Shouldn't he be respecting her student privacy? What if her teenage heart's desire was something funky? Would he be so quick to reveal his heart's desire? Buffy had the feeling he'd make something up. Something mundane like a bag of candy or a pair of socks.

What if she said it was something embarrassing? What would he do? Mischief had her deadpanning, "I see you, Albus. I'm dressed all in white and we're getting married."

The resulting flinch and expression of horror sent her into a fit of giggles.

Professor Dumbledore rubbed at his beard and let out a soft huff of exasperation. "Buffy, although I hate echoing the words of a certain Unspeakable, don't be so flippant."

Unfortunately, she giggled again. "I'd say don't be so tweedy, except you've probably never worn a tweed suit in your life."

Dumbledore raised his brow. "You'd be surprised. However, let us get back to the manner in hand. By bringing you here, I hoped that you'd recognise the potential you have in this life and, I hoped that it would allow you to bury the past. Dwelling on the misery and loss from a past life could be extremely dangerous for you."

"I know." She dipped her head, her merry laughter vanishing. His words were more pertinent than he could ever realise. As she dropped her head, a lock of hair fell loose from her ponytail. Buffy reached back, tugging at the band that held her hair back and allowing her hair to fall free around her shoulders. Dumbledore watched, seemingly half-mesmerised by the sight of her blonde tresses.

"I'll tell you what I see."

With her face angled towards him and the light playing across her face, her cheekbones appeared higher than usual. Bright sparkling eyes full of life meeting his own. Buffy wasn't aware of it but, at that moment, she looked more like her father than ever.

"You're gonna like it."

Dumbledore swallowed nervously. "Like?"

"Believe it or not, I'm old in it. A really old, old woman."

Dumbledore stared back at her. "Your deepest desire is to be old?"

Buffy half-smiled. "And when I say old, I don't mean in a wicked witch with no teeth, a large chin and a badly placed wart kinda way. More in a cute, snarky, Golden Girl way. Oh, and I'm pleased to say my fantastic taste in clothing still prevails."

"Hmm?" Dumbledore muttered, not sounding convinced she was telling the truth. "Yes, of course. It wouldn't do to for you to lose your excellent taste in clothing." He didn't mention the fact she had a Dirigible plum pinned to the front of her robe. "Anything else?"

"No cats," she replied brightly.

"Cats?"

"Ugh, yeah. That's kind of a strange relief. I thought that if... that if somehow I managed to grow old that there was a good chance I'd become a crazy cat lady. You know, the sort you see in the street talking to themselves and clutching a basket full of cat food."

Buffy wasn't going to tell him why old age was so important to her. Just because Lily Moon had beaten every kind of Slayer record, made it to old age and also managed to break the Slayer... curse, didn't mean she'd have the same sort of luck. In her old dimension, she'd died at sixteen and died again at twenty. The odds weren't exactly stacked in her favour.

"So, no cats in this old age of yours," mused Dumbledore. "What about your surroundings? Anything significant about them? Is anyone there with you?"

This she didn't want to keep private. A trophy room full of weapons and stakes openly on display would not go down well. "There's a guy with me."

Dumbledore waited.

"He's standing in the shadows." Buff's expression turned wistful as she stared into the mirror. "Guess he's your average, fantasy husband that all teenage girls dream of. The one who loves you and won't leave. Not like the other men in my life did... er, will." She frowned in confusion. "No, did! Although my father in this life went true to form and left when the going got tough. I guess my mom's never had much luck with men either."

Buffy missed Dumbledore's look of surprise. He swallowed back the questions her comment prompted. Instead, he fixed on what she'd willingly revealed. "You're deepest desire is to be loved until you're old and grey?

"Unlikely, isn't it?"

The sarcasm in one so young saddened him. "You really believe that you'll be abandoned by those you love?"

The look she gave him was dark and unfathomable. "Not all... It's just..." Buffy broke off and turned back to the mirror to stare at the shadowed figure. He was teasingly familiar, which annoyed her. Her duties as the Slayer tended to get in the way of relationships, or – if her memories of her previous life were right – it attracted the wrong kind of boyfriend. Aware her thoughts were beginning to slide into the past again, Buffy shook off the creeping melancholy and climbed gracefully to her feet. She turned around and walked away from the mirror without a backward glance. If there was one thing she'd learned in those past life memories, it was not to rely on prophecies and visions. Here, she'd be the mistress of her own fate, rather than a pawn of others.

"Why did anyone want to create something like that?" She jerked her thumb at the mirror behind her. "Vanity? 'Cos that kinda sucks." She'd known magical mirrors were commonplace in the Wizarding World. The Parkinson girls bragged about owning one that talked to them. From what she'd overheard, profound words of wisdom didn't drop from the glass; it just made admiring comments to anyone in front of it.

Dumbledore looked over her shoulder, to the tall mirror behind her. "That object has led many to waste their entire lives in front of it."

Buffy stopped, eyeing him in askance. "And you brought me here? You are a thing of evil for not telling me that straight away! I spent ages looking into it. I could be addicted!" She shook her head. "Honestly, Professor Dumbledore, did no one ever tell you that the idea of being a teacher was to not put students in danger?" A thought occurred to her, and it was not a nice one. "Or... is it because it's me? If my name had been Malfoy or Lestrange, would you have brought me here to look at the Mirror of Gloom?"

Dumbledore rose from the desk, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Buffy," he said as he turned her towards the door. "You should know by now that I'm not here to hinder, but to help. Your surname has nothing to do with this. I wouldn't care if it was Lovegood, Malfoy or Lestrange. If I had the slightest doubt you might succumb to the mirror's enchantment I'd not have let you near it. However, from the first moment I met you, I knew that you had strength few others have."

"That's true," admitted Buffy cautiously.

They headed out of the classroom and once out in the corridor, he added, "You didn't look back at the mirror once. I'm impressed."

Buffy noted, despite his words, he used a complex charm to lock the classroom door, just in case she tried to get back in. Not that it would stop her if she wanted to see the mirror again. The windows were quite wide and she could either climb down the side of the castle and jiggle the locks or borrow a broom and fly up here.

"Where to now?" she asked, expecting him to say the infirmary. Although she disliked hospitals, she hoped Nurse Bones would keep her in until at least tomorrow lunchtime. According to Tom, they had a test in the morning that she'd forgotten all about.

"Ah," replied Dumbledore. "I think it's time you spoke to Professor Pandora Trelawney..."

Buffy scowled and slowed her steps, dragging her feet over the stone flags.

"... about your visions. I mean, the flashbacks you've had. As a Seer herself..."

Buffy snorted, opened her mouth and closed it again. She'd almost burst out with 'Slayer, not Seer,' but had managed to bite it back in time.

Dumbledore continued, "...she is in the best position to advise you on such matters. You really do need to learn how to control these episodes rather than having them control you." He gave her a meaningful look and Buffy knew he was thinking of when she'd zoned out during the Dementor attack.

She let out a long sigh. "Fine. I'll speak to her." Then she brightened. "And I can tell her I'm giving up my Divination classes. I don't care what you and Mom say, tea leaf reading is not for me. I've always preferred coffee, anyway."

….

A/N;

Not as long as the past few chapters, however, I wanted to move the story on. I have another chapter to make and then on to a brand new adventure that has Buffy in trouble!

Thanks to my beta Deiticlast for his help editing this chapter.

Thanks to all who left reviews and cyber chocolate on the last chapter! It helps to know I am not writing and no one is reading (I don't know if you are there unless you leave a comment). Don't forget, I write for me. I publish online for the reader so it is always nice to be thanked. ;-)