Disclaimers, etc, see part one.

Author's Notes: Sorrow1, this chapter should answer some of your (indeed, valid questions). For anyone else who is concerned, Buffy did not receive an invitation to Hogwarts; Giles received a letter inviting her to Hogwarts.

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"Did you get any good books?" Buffy asked as they walked out of the shop, sans trunks.

"I did find a copy of the Gutenberg demonography in very good condition. Wilmot always said there was one in California, but he could never find the demon who was supposed to have it. They had a good selection of books on vampire Lore."

"I should probably read those," Buffy said.

Giles was pleased with the hint of pouting in her tone.

Buffy was quiet and not paying close attention to the people or shops they were passing. But she did seem a little more comfortable. They pressed through the crowds that hang around Knockturn Alley. Buffy stepped up just in front of Giles. She didn't seem any different, but the crowds parted before them.

Giles hardly noticed that. But he did notice that Buffy seemed calmer and quieter and more reserved than she had been, as well as stronger.

"What did you curse Lucius Malfoy with?" Buffy asked, stepping carefully around the hag offering fingers.

Giles chuckled. "I made it up. I wasn't sure it would work. It took him four days to fix it. I turned all the hair on his body into snot."

"That's disgusting," Buffy said.

"I was fifteen," Giles defended himself.

"I was spending my nights waiting to kill vampires when I was fifteen," Buffy said.

Buffy's tone wasn't as petulant as it used to be. It was a thoughtful consideration of everything being the Slayer had done to her. Giles sighed; they needed to get away from Knockturn Alley.

The main stretch of Diagon Alley was bright and bustling compared to the lane they came out of. Giles lead Buffy surreptitiously out of one alley and across the other to Olivander's.

Buffy looked at the faded curtains and peeling paint suspiciously.

"Is this really where we want be, Giles?"

Giles was surprised by the questions. "It's Olivander's, you'll need a wand."

The shop was empty, musty and quiet. Buffy was expecting at least some sort of haunting music. But she supposed that the shop was actually, really, haunting. The small gnome like shopkeeper appeared without warning and beamed at them.

"Rupert, I didn't expect to ever see you again?" he said. "How is your wand? Rowan wood, very durable. 11 inches, unicorn hair; very good for charms work. You haven't been neglecting it have you? I heard you were mostly Muggle now?"

"Ah, I polished it regularly."

"Miss Summers?" he asked.

Buffy stepped forward. Olivander looked at her and blinked.

"It's been a long time since I've had one of you in my shop," he said.

Giles looked at him sharply. Buffy sighed. Olivander looked mildly embarrassed.

"Please hold out your wand hand," he waved. "And stand on the stool."

Buffy held out her right hand. Olivander's silver measuring tape whipped around her quickly, taking measurements for each finger as well as her height, the length of each leg and arm, and the circumference of her head.

Olivander watched it curiously. He snapped his fingers and it fell to the ground. Olivander busied himself choosing several wands before handing one to Buffy.

"11 inches, heart string of a dragon in holly wood."

Buffy waved the wand as Olivander instructed. Nothing happened. Olivander took it away and replaced it with another.

"14 inches, oak, unicorn hair," also had no effect.

Buffy smiled slightly when he handed her the "Willow wood, 13 inches, phoenix feather."

"Do you like the wand?" he asked.

"I have a friend called Willow," Buffy replied.

Olivander took the wand and replaced it with another, and another, and another, and other, snatching them away without letting her wave them anymore. Eventually it seemed they had gone through almost every wand in the shop. The floor around the stool was piled up with boxes. Almost as high as Buffy's knees.

Olivander peered at Buffy closely.

"You don't have a wand on you, do you? This only happens when people are carrying their first wand on them."

"But she's never even done magic before, she doesn't have a wand."

Buffy clutched the stake in her jacket reflexively. Not on the chance that she would have to fight Olivander, but as reassurance. Olivander held his hand out gently.

"May I?" he asked. "I promise I'll be careful."

Buffy surrendered her stake. Olivander took it gently and ran his fingers over the carvings; willow leaves, a phoenix, a griffin, winged sandals, suns, and a Celtic cross.

"16 inches, Californian Redwood. Beautiful. The carvings, did you do them, yourself?"

Buffy nodded mutely.

"How is it a wand?" Giles asked. "Doesn't it need a magical substance in it?"

"The blood," Olivander murmured.

He closed his eyes and seemed to smell the wood.

"The last blood of vampire, given in willing sacrifice. The vampire with a soul. And the blood of the Slayer. A very potent wand, Miss Summers."

He grasped the wand firmly and waved it sharply. Three chocolate chip cookies appeared on a small plate. Olivander returned the wand to Buffy with a smile and offered his customers a biscuit.

"My wife baked these this morning."

"Ooh, cookies," Giles said. He blushed slightly, "I meant biscuits!"

Buffy patted his shoulder from her height on the stool. She accepted a biscuit, but couldn't step down because of the pile of boxes. Olivander waved his own wand the boxes returned themselves to their places on the shelves.

"Please, dear, wave your wand," he said.

Buffy did, and this time, perfume, lily of the valley, filled the shop. She smiled pensively, and stepped off the stool. She ate her biscuit politely.

"Thank you for letting me handle such a precious wand, Miss Summers. I would hope you would you come to me to purchase a second wand."

He bowed and disappeared again. Buffy blinked after him.

"He disappeared," she said.

"He does that," Giles said.

He was still a little bemused by Olivander's behaviour, as always. The news that the absurd stake Buffy had teased him about was her wand was surprising. But he should have thought of that possibility. He hadn't considered that their relationship was that powerful. He was sure that had something to do with what had happened, and how.

Buffy lead the way out of the dim shop into the still bustling alley. The shop next to Olivander's was selling dragon hide goods. Buffy inspected the window display of boots, sheaths, belts and jackets and pushed the door open. Giles followed.

Buffy seemed to know exactly what questions she needed to ask the sales-witch. Giles wandered around the shop, bemused, inspecting the stitching on the jackets. He kept half an ear on Buffy's conversation, hoping she might ask what the current fashions were. He wasn't sure if the wizarding world had fashion seasons, but if it did, Buffy would have been the first to notice.

Buffy concerns were much more practical.

"How long are they made to last for? … How are the heels attached? … Are there actual nails there? … Does dragon hide stretch? … Can you get this colour polish easily?"

Giles brightened at the last question, it seemed Buffy was at least a little concerned with the way the boots looked. He looked down at his own 'brown' shoes. He'd never cared about the distinction between Vandyke, raw umber and copper beech. Buffy appeared at his elbow a moment later with a small tub of polish.

"Here, this will match the actual colour of your shoes."

Giles took the tub and looked at it. He looked down at his shoes again.

"It's brown," he said.

"Trust me," Buffy said. "It's better than whatever you have been using. You need to look after your shoes."

Buffy went back to the shortlist of the shoes she had chosen and got into another discussion with the assistant about the shape of the heel. She needed shoes that would support her in a fight. But she decided that they would also need to blend in with teenage fashion, there was no reason to look like an outcast from the first day. She'd rather not be noticed then be noticed for the wrong reasons.

After six pairs of shoes – including a dress pair and others specifically for climbing or running, and pair custom lined to be silent when she walked – came a full suit of dragon hide fighting armour. It allowed general ease of movement, while protecting the wearer from heat, most potions, and most wielded blades.

Giles interrupted only when one of the assistants tried to sell Buffy an inconspicuousness cloak. It had inside pockets for almost anything and was especially charmed to suit the shadows.

"Ideal for a circumspect young lady such as yourself," he exclaimed.

"That's a very a respectable price for a garment like that," Giles said. "You could get an Invisibility cloak for not much more."

Buffy's eyes widened as she clicked into the argument.

"You mean I can become invisible without an icky potion or, you know, everyone ignoring me?"

Giles was slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"Ah, yes," he said.

"My apologies, Mr …"

"Giles, Rupert Giles," Giles said.

He took the proffered hand gingerly. The man gripped it.

"Mr Giles, not Frau Lorelai's son? It's a great honour to meet you."

"Ah, thank you," Giles stammered.

Buffy looked at him curiously. Giles looked a little sheepish.

"You will tell me about it later," Buffy said. "Or I will be forced to go to Jenny."

Giles swallowed, neither was a pleasant prospect. But he was happy to see Buffy determined about something other than slaying. Buffy frowned slightly at how easily she had invoked Jenny. She fingered her wand in the pocket of the jacket. Maybe it would be easier to accept their points of view.

The shop assistant was overly helpful as Buffy tried to pick out sheaths and leg and arm belts. He did, however, know his equipment well and discussed the various qualities of lining materials. Satisfied with her ability to attack and walk away unscathed, Buffy paid for her things and led a relieved Giles out of the shop and away from the enthusiastic shop assistant.

They passed the Owl Emporium on the way to buy potions ingredients. Buffy stopped to watch the hooting birds. One in particular, an elegant, black winged owl, had caught attention. She stopped to stroke its neck through the bars of its cage, cooing gently. Big green eyes met big green eyes.

Giles noticed that she had fallen behind.

"You can stay here and meet the birds while I get the potions ingredients and your cauldron," he said. "It's not very interesting."

Buffy nodded absently, paying more attention to the bird. She was still there a few minutes later when Giles returned empty-handed.

"Were they closed, Giles?" Buffy asked.

"No. They'll send them to the Cauldron. Are you going to buy an owl? They are extremely useful; they can carry messages, and even packages."

The owl hooted as if in agreement. Buffy murmured something to it.

"No," she answered Giles. "The school has owls, don't they? And he deserves to be needed and loved more than they I have the energy for. Maybe, in a few months …"

Giles nodded understandingly. He led Buffy back up the street towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"We need to stop at the book shop," he said.

Buffy snorted. "Giles, not more books. Isn't four boxes enough, even for you?"

"Most of the books we are about to buy are for your education, young lady. And I haven't read any wizarding fiction lately. Now that that idiot Lockhart has been debunked, I feel I can read his work. Apparently he was quite a good writer."

Buffy nodded like she knew who he was talking about. She looked around the street instead and saw a small, quiet looking store called 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes,' with the slogan, 'for the discerning or unsuspecting witch or wizard.'

"I can get something for Xander," Buffy said quietly, ducking through the door.

Giles looked at her, to make sure he had heard her correctly, but she wasn't there. He scanned the crowd quickly. He caught site of the back of Buffy's head going through a doorway into what looked like a joke shop. Xander, of course. He followed her inside without pausing to read the sign.