Title: Strange Events
Author name: PeriwinkleBlue
Author email: PeriwinkleBlue25@aol.com
Category: Action/Adventure/Romance
Keywords: Harry/Snape/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: SS, CoS, PoA, GoF OotP, Buffy through season 7.
Summary: Buffy/HP Crossover. Buffy is the new teacher at Hogwarts. Hired to help protect The-Boy-Who-Lived, she finds more than she bargained for in the case of teaching fifty young wizards, inter-house rivalries, an ancient artifact, and a greasy potions master.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy and Co. belong to Joss Whedon etc., Harry and friends belong to J.K. Rowling.
(this is internal thought)
Chapter 8
Something was shaking Buffy. It was Bert. She picked her head up off the desk and looked disgustedly at the book in front of her. Defensive Magical Theory was quite possibly the most boring book she'd ever had to read. (And considering some of Giles' snoozefests, that's saying something.) It had taken her a better part of the last three days to get halfway through because she simply fell asleep every time she tried to read it. The only reason she was making such an effort on the book was that it had the official Ministry of Magic Approved seal on the cover.
Bert grabbed her sleeve again. When he had her attention, he rubbed his belly and whined pitifully. Buffy looked at her new watch, compliments of McGonagall.
"Shit, Bert, I'm sorry, we missed dinner." At this the creature pouted and whined again still rubbing his stomach.
"How about we go find the kitchens. I'm sure the house elves could cook us up something tasty." Bert wrapped her in a hug. Jumping down he pulled her out the door.
Hand in hand the slayer and her familiar walked through the quiet halls until they came to the large picture of a fruit bowl. It was exactly as Minnie had described it, and as instructed, Buffy tickled the pear which turned into a door handle.
They went inside and both stomach's growled loudly at the smells of cooking food. Everywhere house elves went to and fro cleaning, cooking and generally scurrying.
One elf looked up sharply as the pair made their way further into the kitchens. Seeing the slayer, and friend, he looked slightly disappointed, but made his way over to them.
"Hello Missus, I is Dobby. You must be Professor Summers."
"Hi Dobby, Yes, but please call me Buffy, and this is Bert."
Dobby gasped, "You is too kind to poor Dobby, only two people have ever told Dobby to call them real names, Harry and a barmy old codger." At that last, the elf looked slightly guilty.
"Who's a barmy old codger?"
"Professor Dumbledore is."
"He's not a barmy old codger!" She said with emphasis.
"Dobby is not thinking so Professor Summers, but he is saying that Dobby could call him that if Dobby wants. But Dobby is not wanting to. Dumbledore is hiring Dobby to work here in the kitchens."
"I see, well, that's nice then. And, remember, call me Buffy, or I might have to slay you," she joked. The house elf pulled harder on his ears and his greyish skin paled even more.
"Oh, Dobby will, Dobby will! Brody is telling us elves how you is slaying."
(Huh? Oh!) Buffy mentally smacked herself, she had forgotten about almost slitting the throat of a house elf her first day of Hogwarts.
"Oh, Dobby that was a mistake, er..Brody, he just snuck up on me, I was just jumpy, I wasn't really gonna slay him, or you, it was an idle threat. I swear." Trying to change the subject from her earlier gaff, she asked, "Um, Bert and I were wondering if we could get something to eat?"
"Ah! How silly of Dobby, of course you is wanting something to eat." At that, half a dozen elves, in a rush, set up a small tea table, laden with sandwiches, a side of ham, several pies, tarts, pastries, a basket of fruit and a pot of tea. One held a chair out for Buffy and she sat down. The elves went back to work except for Dobby.
Minding her manners, Buffy inquired, "Would you like to join me?" Not knowing the effect of this simple kindness, she was surprised when the elf grabbed his long ears, pulling them down.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! No one has ever asked Dobby to eat with them!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you!"
"No! No no no! Dobby is not offended. Dobby means no one has ever been so kind as to ask Dobby to sit with them for a meal!"
"Well, call it a first then, and pull up a chair." The slayer's tone brooked no argument.
Dobby looked around furtively and pulled out the other chair. He grasped the arms and slowly lowered himself into the chair. A collective gasp went up from the house elves. Dobby started to rise, but Buffy caught his arm.
"Hey, where are you going? I can't possibly eat all this food by myself, so you're gonna have to help me. And what's with the rest of them, you'd think sitting down would be a crime."
"Oh, no not a crime, it's just that....well, they don't think it's proper that Dobby gets paid, or talks to Dumbledore, or that Dobby should sit down with a witch....like an...equal....they is thinking that house elves are only to work and serve wizards, but Dobby is.....I is thinking they are wrong!"
"What? They don't get paid? They're slaves? Does Dumbledore know? I didn't think he'd be the kind to have slave labor working here."
"Dumbledore knows, when Dobby is coming to work here, Dumbledore offered them all clothes, and paying, but they is not wanting any part of it. House elves do not get paid, they is thinking they is only for work work work. Only Dobby is wanting paying for his work. Only Dobby is glad for the clothes Harry Potter is giving him."
"So, what's the big deal about clothes?"
"Clothes is what releases elves from service. Elves is thinking clothes are a disgrace, but Dobby is liking being paid for working."
"Well, since you've got the sitting thing going, dig in."
Buffy immediately started in on a sandwich, while Bert had already made his way through several bananas, peels and all, and was happily munching on an orange, skin still on. Buffy had tried giving him all sorts of various things from her meals in the Great Hall, but it wasn't until she had brought him a few red apples that he'd really eaten with gusto.
Dobby, nervously spread cream on a scone, again with careful slowness, he raised it to his mouth and took a bite.
"MMMMmmmm! This is the best thing Dobby has ever tasted! Buffy is too kind to let Dobby eat this scone!"
"Nonsense, keep eating." She mumbled around a mouthful of raspberry tart.
Buffy asked questions of the elf, and finding him more solicitous with answers than even McGonagall in lecture mode, they had a pleasant discourse. All three ate till their bellies were bursting at the seams. Dobby excused himself and waddled off to work holding his swollen belly.
Buffy and Bert dragged themselves back down the halls to their dungeons. Passing a window, she caught sight of the Forest in the distance, a small hut on it's fringes, smoke issuing from the chimney. She could feel the pull of the place, the need to slay grew almost sharp in it's intensity. (Tomorrow, tomorrow I will slay.)
She caught up with Bert, and together they went back and went to bed.
The next afternoon found her sitting on the massive front steps of the school, whittling stakes. Bert had kept trying to investigate the sharp knife and piles of wood, until Buffy had retrieved another knife and slowly, carefully shown the clabbert what to do. The little guy had caught on amazingly quick and soon two pairs of hands, one human, the other green, we working diligently. (Huh, I woulda' thought he'd want some Legos, or Lincoln Logs after the stunt with the books, but I guess a hobby is a hobby. At least it keeps him busy. And hey, less for me to do!)
A shadow fell over her work, looking up she saw Dumbledore standing at the bottom of the stairs.
He smiled at the clabbert who was already getting up to shake hands, it had become a ritual between the two, and the man had risen another notch in her estimation in his respectful and cordial treatment of her friend.
"Going out this evening?" Asked the headmaster, eyeing the pile of finished stakes and other weaponry laying on the steps.
"Yup, just waiting for the sun to go down. I know a lot of your baddies don't care about keeping it nocturnal, but it just doesn't feel right if it's not dark."
"I see, I was going to inquire what you planned on doing with Bert here while you went. I am afraid his affection for you and natural curiosity might prompt him to follow you."
"I already thought of that, I was gonna ask McGonagall to watch him while I was gone."
"Alas, Minerva has left the grounds on school business and will be away several days, but if I may be so bold as to offer my services, I'm sure I can occupy him for a few hours."
"Sounds like a plan." Turning to Bert who had resumed him carving, she said, "Hey, Bert, you're gonna hang out with Albus tonight, I have stuff to do."
The creature looked torn between going with his mistress and spending time with his second favorite person. Fun ruled out and he flung himself into Dumbledore's arms.
"Well, as that's settled, I'll leave you to prepare for your evening."
Dumbledore carried the clabbert into the school. Buffy returned to the stakes when she felt another presence behind her. Not turning around she asked, "Did Bert change his mind?"
An acid voice behind her spoke. "I do not know if he did as I have no idea what you're pratting on about. Mi...er, Elizabeth." He did not want to get into another battle over her various monikers.
"Oh, sorry Severus, I thought you were Dumbledore."
"As I have no beard and am a century or so younger, I suggest you use your eyes next time you think."
The rebuke slid off of her and she countered with, "Why not?"
"I beg your pardon?" He asked in confusion.
"Why don't you have a beard, you'd look so much better if you maybe grew in a little goatee. And a little shampoo wouldn't hurt either."
"That's....that's hardly the point now is it." He walked down the steps and onto the lawn, abruptly turning he asked, "And what are you doing? Carving small woodland creatures no doubt."
"Actually," she drew out the word "I'm carving stakes, I'm going into the forest tonight."
"The forest? Armed with pointy bits of wood? I'm sure I'll be unavailable for your funeral. Perhaps I'll find the time to send flowers."
"No, not simply 'pointy bits of wood'." With a strange gleam in her eye she pulled the scythe from the black duffel at her feet. "Armed with this."
Snape took a step back "I see, Good evening then." Turning, robes flowing dramatically he trekked across the grounds.
His thoughts tumbled and chased one another as he made his way down the path to Hogsmeade. (Silly arrogant American. Beard indeed. Shampoo indeed. I happen to like the way I look!) He stopped in mid-step, remembering the glimpse of himself that morning in the mirror. Shaking his head, he started again. (Shampoo, pah! There's nothing wrong with my hair...is there?) Continuing on with his mental tirade, he distracted himself from the scare he'd received when she'd pulled out the blade. A shiver ran down his spine as he gave one more, "Pah!" aloud.
Buffy finished her stake just as the sun set behind the forest. Gathering up the weapons she was to take with her. She walked across the grounds, past the small cheery hut, and to the edge of the forest.
The slayer took a deep breath, and allowed her senses to take over. She tried to be confident as she walked through the trees for the first time.
The last of the sun's rays didn't penetrate through the thick canopy of sycamore, but Buffy's eyes quickly adjusted to the near total darkness. She saw a path, but decided to stay off of it. (It's not like the vamps are likely to take a stroll down one for the hell of it.)
She first came upon a vampire who she saw had caught a large barn owl and was about to feed. She crept upon him silently, dusting him before he knew she was there. Catching the owl before it flopped to the ground, he hooted at her in thanks and took to the air. (Wow, too bad they all can't be that easy. Great, now I've jinxed myself.)
Continuing on she didn't go far when her attention was caught by rustling noises in the brush. She followed them, upon coming into a clearing she could see several small reddish creatures, spines cascading down their back and long tails (They're Ortbens, decapitation, evisceration, the usual.) She remembered them from her studying. She could also see what they had been tracking. A small half man/half horse, (Centaurs, firmly under do not kill.), stumbling along, dragging one of his back hooves, it looked like a sprain to Buffy's trained eyes.
The Ortbens started to charge the Centaur, but the slayer got there first. Slicing cleanly through the first one, she quickly rolled to avoid an attack from another, it's spiny tail swishing above her head. That one had it's legs cut out from underneath, as she leapt up. She smashed the face of one and swinging the blade she almost beheaded another when one of the Ortbens smashed a tail spine into her leg. Limb going out from beneath her she only managed to slice an ear off the one she'd been aiming for. Staggering up, she backhanded the one who'd stuck her, and sliced him cleanly in half. Dispatching the remaining three, she toppled to the ground once more, already ripping part of her shirt to make a bandage for the wound in her calf.
Finishing the provisional first aid, she looked around for the Centaur. He had only made it as far as the other side of the clearing, before collapsing himself. She half-crawled, half-stumbled over to him. Studying him, she found that the human half was kind of cute, fiery red hair matching the auburn of his horse hair.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Only with thanks to you."
"No problem, actually there is, how're we gonna get you where you need to go and me back to the castle. I could carry you, but not with a bum leg."
"Carry me! No self-respecting Centaur would let himself be carried by a..."
"Leburn!" A sharp voice carried across the clearing. Both turning they saw four more Centuars striding over to them.
The one who had spoken was older than the creature next to Buffy, but with the same red hair and coat.
He spoke again, "Forgive my son warrior, he knows not when to hold his tongue."
Buffy smiled, "Most people say that about me too."
The older one turned to his son. "We heard your cry for help, and came as soon as we could." Two of the new Centaurs bent and lifted the injured one onto a stretcher they had been carrying.
Leburn's father turned back to Buffy, still lying in the trampled grass. "My name is Tranith, what are you called warrior?"
"Buffy, sir."
"Well, Buffy, you have my eternal thanks for the life of my son. Here this is Firenze, he will aid you in returning to the school. Good night m'lady." Tranith picked up the back of his son's stretcher and jointly the four centaurs moved off into the woods.
"Well met warrior Buffy, here climb onto my back, and I shall take you back to the castle."
"Please, it's just Buffy, none of that warrior stuff. I just helped out a guy in trouble." She clambered onto his back and grasped his shoulders tightly as he started back towards the grounds. (It's not that different from riding a horse, except this guy can make pleasant conversation too.) Firenze, she soon learned was one of the divination teachers at the school. He had been welcomed back into the forest only recently. Apparently some of the centaurs had been angry at his desire to mix with humans and until the leader of the dissenters and most of his followers had left the forest. Firenze was pleased that he could return to his family.
It was while explaining the art of divination to her that they passed the small hut Buffy had seen before.
"Jumpin' frog gizzards! Firenze! An' Buffy! What happen'd? Are yeh okay?"
"Yeah, nothing that a night's rest won't cure."
"Bu' yer bleedin'!"
"Well, that's a hazard of the job. No worries Hagrid. I'll be right as rain by tomorrow. But I was wondering if you could get a message to Dumbledore? Can you ask him to just keep Bert until tomorrow? I'm going straight to bed after this."
"Sure, no problem. Well, if yah sure yer okay, Good night. Oh, and Firenze, I'm gla' yeh can be bac' in the fores' wit yer family."
"I am glad as well friend Hagrid. Good night."
Buffy and Firenze made their way back to school with out further interruptions. What Buffy was expecting when they got the front doors, she wasn't sure, but Firenze just pushed open the massive doors and entered. Giving him directions, he steered them effortlessly, down into the lower levels of the castle. He even carried her into her rooms and right on up to her bed.
Making sure she was comfortable, he straightened and spoke, "Warrior Buffy, my family has always had the sight, I would if I could give you some insight to your path, but you light your own way. Tonight you will dream."
With that simple statement, he left and Buffy only lay awake a short time before dropping off into sleep.
Buffy did indeed dream. She found herself walking down dungeon corridors, scythe in hand. She was hunting something, wasn't she? Turning a corner, she saw a face she knew. Severus Snape stood there mouthing words she couldn't hear. Behind him loomed a smoky figure, a hideous skull with a viper hanging from it's open mouth.
"Professor Snape? Severus? What? I can't hear you." Growling her frustration, she moved closer.
Suddenly, Snape's inaudible litany cut off and he pointed behind her, a terrified look on his face. Whirling, she found the hallway had filled with demons, vampires and Dark creatures. Scythe at the ready, she charged. Punching, kicking, beheading, she and the blade mowed them down. Seemingly endless, it went on. Buffy never faltered, and as the last vampire was destroyed, she bent, hands on knees, panting.
Buffy's breathe caught, searing pain in her back. She staggered around, feeling the blade in her spine.
"Severus?"
Snape still stood where he'd been before, but his hands were bloody, sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo of the grinning skull and snake. He looked horrified, and shook his head as if to deny this reality.
She gasped, "Et tu Sev?" with a wry smile and collapsed, the world disappearing in a wash of red.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in a dimly lit space, sitting on a wooden floor. The only light came in from the crack under a door. Buffy heard angry voices, a fight was going on somewhere. She felt for a knob and found none, pressing her face to the crack of light she called, "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"
Suddenly the door opened and Buffy was spilled into a world of light. As her eyes adjusted, she found herself in the hallway of a modern home having just spilled from a small closet. The voices were louder now, and Buffy stood and brushing dust from her white dress, followed them.
She entered a largish living room, and immediately felt for weapons that weren't there. The man before her had such waves of hate coming off of him, it was almost palpable. He was large and purple-faced, spittle flying from his lips as he continued his tirade. The slayer moved closer to see the object of the man's wrath. Moving past the floral sofa, she almost laughed, the person who had angered the man so was a small boy. But the urge to laugh quickly died as she saw the boy's condition, purple bruises on his face covered older greenish-yellow ones. His lip was split and blood trickled down his chin to meet the larger puddle already staining his shirt. The boy cowered on the ground as the large man raised his foot to kick him.
"Please Uncle Vernon! I haven't been stealing! I swear!" the boy begged.
"Don't lie to me boy!" Crack!, the man's (Vernon? and I thought Buffy was bad.) foot connected, and from experience, Buffy knew ribs had broken with the blow.
Running, toward the pair, Buffy stopped short when the boy looked up at her. Unfocused green eyes met blue and the boy stood and spoke in a detached voice.
"Do not trouble yourself. This cannot kill me. It is another's task."
"Who are you?"
"I am the one Atropos waits for."
"Oh...Huh?"
"My fate decrees when the world will end."
"Well, if you're that important, I can't let this jerk use you for a punching bag."
The boy shrugged, "I'm a responsible for deaths untold. I deserve this."
"What? Even murderers deserve a second chance."
The boy opened his mouth to speak again, but a solid sock to the jaw knocked him to the floor. The boy blinked, focused on her and in a normal tone asked, "Are you an angel?"
The scene faded with Vernon yelling that the boy had lost it, and should be sent to the loony bin.
Buffy awoke with a gasp, the dim light told her she'd been asleep for hours and it was nearing mid-morning. She leapt up, thankful for the millionth time it seemed, ignoring the slight twinge in her ankle. She sprinted out of her rooms, and up flights of stairs, intent only on reaching Dumbledore's office. Rounding a corner, she was brought up short, landing on her but with gasp. Standing before her was Severus Snape. She just stared at him as scenes from the night's dream assailed her. (Snape, he's gonna kill me.)
End Chapter 8
A/N: Thanks again to all the wonderful people who reviewed! *Piles reviews like leaves and jumps into them.* Also thanks to Catlimere for supergreat ideas and comments! Sorry I haven't gotten to really use them yet, but trust me, I have this outlined for forty chapters so far. Thanks again! Hugs!
TTFN,
Peri
Author name: PeriwinkleBlue
Author email: PeriwinkleBlue25@aol.com
Category: Action/Adventure/Romance
Keywords: Harry/Snape/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: SS, CoS, PoA, GoF OotP, Buffy through season 7.
Summary: Buffy/HP Crossover. Buffy is the new teacher at Hogwarts. Hired to help protect The-Boy-Who-Lived, she finds more than she bargained for in the case of teaching fifty young wizards, inter-house rivalries, an ancient artifact, and a greasy potions master.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy and Co. belong to Joss Whedon etc., Harry and friends belong to J.K. Rowling.
(this is internal thought)
Chapter 8
Something was shaking Buffy. It was Bert. She picked her head up off the desk and looked disgustedly at the book in front of her. Defensive Magical Theory was quite possibly the most boring book she'd ever had to read. (And considering some of Giles' snoozefests, that's saying something.) It had taken her a better part of the last three days to get halfway through because she simply fell asleep every time she tried to read it. The only reason she was making such an effort on the book was that it had the official Ministry of Magic Approved seal on the cover.
Bert grabbed her sleeve again. When he had her attention, he rubbed his belly and whined pitifully. Buffy looked at her new watch, compliments of McGonagall.
"Shit, Bert, I'm sorry, we missed dinner." At this the creature pouted and whined again still rubbing his stomach.
"How about we go find the kitchens. I'm sure the house elves could cook us up something tasty." Bert wrapped her in a hug. Jumping down he pulled her out the door.
Hand in hand the slayer and her familiar walked through the quiet halls until they came to the large picture of a fruit bowl. It was exactly as Minnie had described it, and as instructed, Buffy tickled the pear which turned into a door handle.
They went inside and both stomach's growled loudly at the smells of cooking food. Everywhere house elves went to and fro cleaning, cooking and generally scurrying.
One elf looked up sharply as the pair made their way further into the kitchens. Seeing the slayer, and friend, he looked slightly disappointed, but made his way over to them.
"Hello Missus, I is Dobby. You must be Professor Summers."
"Hi Dobby, Yes, but please call me Buffy, and this is Bert."
Dobby gasped, "You is too kind to poor Dobby, only two people have ever told Dobby to call them real names, Harry and a barmy old codger." At that last, the elf looked slightly guilty.
"Who's a barmy old codger?"
"Professor Dumbledore is."
"He's not a barmy old codger!" She said with emphasis.
"Dobby is not thinking so Professor Summers, but he is saying that Dobby could call him that if Dobby wants. But Dobby is not wanting to. Dumbledore is hiring Dobby to work here in the kitchens."
"I see, well, that's nice then. And, remember, call me Buffy, or I might have to slay you," she joked. The house elf pulled harder on his ears and his greyish skin paled even more.
"Oh, Dobby will, Dobby will! Brody is telling us elves how you is slaying."
(Huh? Oh!) Buffy mentally smacked herself, she had forgotten about almost slitting the throat of a house elf her first day of Hogwarts.
"Oh, Dobby that was a mistake, er..Brody, he just snuck up on me, I was just jumpy, I wasn't really gonna slay him, or you, it was an idle threat. I swear." Trying to change the subject from her earlier gaff, she asked, "Um, Bert and I were wondering if we could get something to eat?"
"Ah! How silly of Dobby, of course you is wanting something to eat." At that, half a dozen elves, in a rush, set up a small tea table, laden with sandwiches, a side of ham, several pies, tarts, pastries, a basket of fruit and a pot of tea. One held a chair out for Buffy and she sat down. The elves went back to work except for Dobby.
Minding her manners, Buffy inquired, "Would you like to join me?" Not knowing the effect of this simple kindness, she was surprised when the elf grabbed his long ears, pulling them down.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! No one has ever asked Dobby to eat with them!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you!"
"No! No no no! Dobby is not offended. Dobby means no one has ever been so kind as to ask Dobby to sit with them for a meal!"
"Well, call it a first then, and pull up a chair." The slayer's tone brooked no argument.
Dobby looked around furtively and pulled out the other chair. He grasped the arms and slowly lowered himself into the chair. A collective gasp went up from the house elves. Dobby started to rise, but Buffy caught his arm.
"Hey, where are you going? I can't possibly eat all this food by myself, so you're gonna have to help me. And what's with the rest of them, you'd think sitting down would be a crime."
"Oh, no not a crime, it's just that....well, they don't think it's proper that Dobby gets paid, or talks to Dumbledore, or that Dobby should sit down with a witch....like an...equal....they is thinking that house elves are only to work and serve wizards, but Dobby is.....I is thinking they are wrong!"
"What? They don't get paid? They're slaves? Does Dumbledore know? I didn't think he'd be the kind to have slave labor working here."
"Dumbledore knows, when Dobby is coming to work here, Dumbledore offered them all clothes, and paying, but they is not wanting any part of it. House elves do not get paid, they is thinking they is only for work work work. Only Dobby is wanting paying for his work. Only Dobby is glad for the clothes Harry Potter is giving him."
"So, what's the big deal about clothes?"
"Clothes is what releases elves from service. Elves is thinking clothes are a disgrace, but Dobby is liking being paid for working."
"Well, since you've got the sitting thing going, dig in."
Buffy immediately started in on a sandwich, while Bert had already made his way through several bananas, peels and all, and was happily munching on an orange, skin still on. Buffy had tried giving him all sorts of various things from her meals in the Great Hall, but it wasn't until she had brought him a few red apples that he'd really eaten with gusto.
Dobby, nervously spread cream on a scone, again with careful slowness, he raised it to his mouth and took a bite.
"MMMMmmmm! This is the best thing Dobby has ever tasted! Buffy is too kind to let Dobby eat this scone!"
"Nonsense, keep eating." She mumbled around a mouthful of raspberry tart.
Buffy asked questions of the elf, and finding him more solicitous with answers than even McGonagall in lecture mode, they had a pleasant discourse. All three ate till their bellies were bursting at the seams. Dobby excused himself and waddled off to work holding his swollen belly.
Buffy and Bert dragged themselves back down the halls to their dungeons. Passing a window, she caught sight of the Forest in the distance, a small hut on it's fringes, smoke issuing from the chimney. She could feel the pull of the place, the need to slay grew almost sharp in it's intensity. (Tomorrow, tomorrow I will slay.)
She caught up with Bert, and together they went back and went to bed.
The next afternoon found her sitting on the massive front steps of the school, whittling stakes. Bert had kept trying to investigate the sharp knife and piles of wood, until Buffy had retrieved another knife and slowly, carefully shown the clabbert what to do. The little guy had caught on amazingly quick and soon two pairs of hands, one human, the other green, we working diligently. (Huh, I woulda' thought he'd want some Legos, or Lincoln Logs after the stunt with the books, but I guess a hobby is a hobby. At least it keeps him busy. And hey, less for me to do!)
A shadow fell over her work, looking up she saw Dumbledore standing at the bottom of the stairs.
He smiled at the clabbert who was already getting up to shake hands, it had become a ritual between the two, and the man had risen another notch in her estimation in his respectful and cordial treatment of her friend.
"Going out this evening?" Asked the headmaster, eyeing the pile of finished stakes and other weaponry laying on the steps.
"Yup, just waiting for the sun to go down. I know a lot of your baddies don't care about keeping it nocturnal, but it just doesn't feel right if it's not dark."
"I see, I was going to inquire what you planned on doing with Bert here while you went. I am afraid his affection for you and natural curiosity might prompt him to follow you."
"I already thought of that, I was gonna ask McGonagall to watch him while I was gone."
"Alas, Minerva has left the grounds on school business and will be away several days, but if I may be so bold as to offer my services, I'm sure I can occupy him for a few hours."
"Sounds like a plan." Turning to Bert who had resumed him carving, she said, "Hey, Bert, you're gonna hang out with Albus tonight, I have stuff to do."
The creature looked torn between going with his mistress and spending time with his second favorite person. Fun ruled out and he flung himself into Dumbledore's arms.
"Well, as that's settled, I'll leave you to prepare for your evening."
Dumbledore carried the clabbert into the school. Buffy returned to the stakes when she felt another presence behind her. Not turning around she asked, "Did Bert change his mind?"
An acid voice behind her spoke. "I do not know if he did as I have no idea what you're pratting on about. Mi...er, Elizabeth." He did not want to get into another battle over her various monikers.
"Oh, sorry Severus, I thought you were Dumbledore."
"As I have no beard and am a century or so younger, I suggest you use your eyes next time you think."
The rebuke slid off of her and she countered with, "Why not?"
"I beg your pardon?" He asked in confusion.
"Why don't you have a beard, you'd look so much better if you maybe grew in a little goatee. And a little shampoo wouldn't hurt either."
"That's....that's hardly the point now is it." He walked down the steps and onto the lawn, abruptly turning he asked, "And what are you doing? Carving small woodland creatures no doubt."
"Actually," she drew out the word "I'm carving stakes, I'm going into the forest tonight."
"The forest? Armed with pointy bits of wood? I'm sure I'll be unavailable for your funeral. Perhaps I'll find the time to send flowers."
"No, not simply 'pointy bits of wood'." With a strange gleam in her eye she pulled the scythe from the black duffel at her feet. "Armed with this."
Snape took a step back "I see, Good evening then." Turning, robes flowing dramatically he trekked across the grounds.
His thoughts tumbled and chased one another as he made his way down the path to Hogsmeade. (Silly arrogant American. Beard indeed. Shampoo indeed. I happen to like the way I look!) He stopped in mid-step, remembering the glimpse of himself that morning in the mirror. Shaking his head, he started again. (Shampoo, pah! There's nothing wrong with my hair...is there?) Continuing on with his mental tirade, he distracted himself from the scare he'd received when she'd pulled out the blade. A shiver ran down his spine as he gave one more, "Pah!" aloud.
Buffy finished her stake just as the sun set behind the forest. Gathering up the weapons she was to take with her. She walked across the grounds, past the small cheery hut, and to the edge of the forest.
The slayer took a deep breath, and allowed her senses to take over. She tried to be confident as she walked through the trees for the first time.
The last of the sun's rays didn't penetrate through the thick canopy of sycamore, but Buffy's eyes quickly adjusted to the near total darkness. She saw a path, but decided to stay off of it. (It's not like the vamps are likely to take a stroll down one for the hell of it.)
She first came upon a vampire who she saw had caught a large barn owl and was about to feed. She crept upon him silently, dusting him before he knew she was there. Catching the owl before it flopped to the ground, he hooted at her in thanks and took to the air. (Wow, too bad they all can't be that easy. Great, now I've jinxed myself.)
Continuing on she didn't go far when her attention was caught by rustling noises in the brush. She followed them, upon coming into a clearing she could see several small reddish creatures, spines cascading down their back and long tails (They're Ortbens, decapitation, evisceration, the usual.) She remembered them from her studying. She could also see what they had been tracking. A small half man/half horse, (Centaurs, firmly under do not kill.), stumbling along, dragging one of his back hooves, it looked like a sprain to Buffy's trained eyes.
The Ortbens started to charge the Centaur, but the slayer got there first. Slicing cleanly through the first one, she quickly rolled to avoid an attack from another, it's spiny tail swishing above her head. That one had it's legs cut out from underneath, as she leapt up. She smashed the face of one and swinging the blade she almost beheaded another when one of the Ortbens smashed a tail spine into her leg. Limb going out from beneath her she only managed to slice an ear off the one she'd been aiming for. Staggering up, she backhanded the one who'd stuck her, and sliced him cleanly in half. Dispatching the remaining three, she toppled to the ground once more, already ripping part of her shirt to make a bandage for the wound in her calf.
Finishing the provisional first aid, she looked around for the Centaur. He had only made it as far as the other side of the clearing, before collapsing himself. She half-crawled, half-stumbled over to him. Studying him, she found that the human half was kind of cute, fiery red hair matching the auburn of his horse hair.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Only with thanks to you."
"No problem, actually there is, how're we gonna get you where you need to go and me back to the castle. I could carry you, but not with a bum leg."
"Carry me! No self-respecting Centaur would let himself be carried by a..."
"Leburn!" A sharp voice carried across the clearing. Both turning they saw four more Centuars striding over to them.
The one who had spoken was older than the creature next to Buffy, but with the same red hair and coat.
He spoke again, "Forgive my son warrior, he knows not when to hold his tongue."
Buffy smiled, "Most people say that about me too."
The older one turned to his son. "We heard your cry for help, and came as soon as we could." Two of the new Centaurs bent and lifted the injured one onto a stretcher they had been carrying.
Leburn's father turned back to Buffy, still lying in the trampled grass. "My name is Tranith, what are you called warrior?"
"Buffy, sir."
"Well, Buffy, you have my eternal thanks for the life of my son. Here this is Firenze, he will aid you in returning to the school. Good night m'lady." Tranith picked up the back of his son's stretcher and jointly the four centaurs moved off into the woods.
"Well met warrior Buffy, here climb onto my back, and I shall take you back to the castle."
"Please, it's just Buffy, none of that warrior stuff. I just helped out a guy in trouble." She clambered onto his back and grasped his shoulders tightly as he started back towards the grounds. (It's not that different from riding a horse, except this guy can make pleasant conversation too.) Firenze, she soon learned was one of the divination teachers at the school. He had been welcomed back into the forest only recently. Apparently some of the centaurs had been angry at his desire to mix with humans and until the leader of the dissenters and most of his followers had left the forest. Firenze was pleased that he could return to his family.
It was while explaining the art of divination to her that they passed the small hut Buffy had seen before.
"Jumpin' frog gizzards! Firenze! An' Buffy! What happen'd? Are yeh okay?"
"Yeah, nothing that a night's rest won't cure."
"Bu' yer bleedin'!"
"Well, that's a hazard of the job. No worries Hagrid. I'll be right as rain by tomorrow. But I was wondering if you could get a message to Dumbledore? Can you ask him to just keep Bert until tomorrow? I'm going straight to bed after this."
"Sure, no problem. Well, if yah sure yer okay, Good night. Oh, and Firenze, I'm gla' yeh can be bac' in the fores' wit yer family."
"I am glad as well friend Hagrid. Good night."
Buffy and Firenze made their way back to school with out further interruptions. What Buffy was expecting when they got the front doors, she wasn't sure, but Firenze just pushed open the massive doors and entered. Giving him directions, he steered them effortlessly, down into the lower levels of the castle. He even carried her into her rooms and right on up to her bed.
Making sure she was comfortable, he straightened and spoke, "Warrior Buffy, my family has always had the sight, I would if I could give you some insight to your path, but you light your own way. Tonight you will dream."
With that simple statement, he left and Buffy only lay awake a short time before dropping off into sleep.
Buffy did indeed dream. She found herself walking down dungeon corridors, scythe in hand. She was hunting something, wasn't she? Turning a corner, she saw a face she knew. Severus Snape stood there mouthing words she couldn't hear. Behind him loomed a smoky figure, a hideous skull with a viper hanging from it's open mouth.
"Professor Snape? Severus? What? I can't hear you." Growling her frustration, she moved closer.
Suddenly, Snape's inaudible litany cut off and he pointed behind her, a terrified look on his face. Whirling, she found the hallway had filled with demons, vampires and Dark creatures. Scythe at the ready, she charged. Punching, kicking, beheading, she and the blade mowed them down. Seemingly endless, it went on. Buffy never faltered, and as the last vampire was destroyed, she bent, hands on knees, panting.
Buffy's breathe caught, searing pain in her back. She staggered around, feeling the blade in her spine.
"Severus?"
Snape still stood where he'd been before, but his hands were bloody, sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo of the grinning skull and snake. He looked horrified, and shook his head as if to deny this reality.
She gasped, "Et tu Sev?" with a wry smile and collapsed, the world disappearing in a wash of red.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in a dimly lit space, sitting on a wooden floor. The only light came in from the crack under a door. Buffy heard angry voices, a fight was going on somewhere. She felt for a knob and found none, pressing her face to the crack of light she called, "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"
Suddenly the door opened and Buffy was spilled into a world of light. As her eyes adjusted, she found herself in the hallway of a modern home having just spilled from a small closet. The voices were louder now, and Buffy stood and brushing dust from her white dress, followed them.
She entered a largish living room, and immediately felt for weapons that weren't there. The man before her had such waves of hate coming off of him, it was almost palpable. He was large and purple-faced, spittle flying from his lips as he continued his tirade. The slayer moved closer to see the object of the man's wrath. Moving past the floral sofa, she almost laughed, the person who had angered the man so was a small boy. But the urge to laugh quickly died as she saw the boy's condition, purple bruises on his face covered older greenish-yellow ones. His lip was split and blood trickled down his chin to meet the larger puddle already staining his shirt. The boy cowered on the ground as the large man raised his foot to kick him.
"Please Uncle Vernon! I haven't been stealing! I swear!" the boy begged.
"Don't lie to me boy!" Crack!, the man's (Vernon? and I thought Buffy was bad.) foot connected, and from experience, Buffy knew ribs had broken with the blow.
Running, toward the pair, Buffy stopped short when the boy looked up at her. Unfocused green eyes met blue and the boy stood and spoke in a detached voice.
"Do not trouble yourself. This cannot kill me. It is another's task."
"Who are you?"
"I am the one Atropos waits for."
"Oh...Huh?"
"My fate decrees when the world will end."
"Well, if you're that important, I can't let this jerk use you for a punching bag."
The boy shrugged, "I'm a responsible for deaths untold. I deserve this."
"What? Even murderers deserve a second chance."
The boy opened his mouth to speak again, but a solid sock to the jaw knocked him to the floor. The boy blinked, focused on her and in a normal tone asked, "Are you an angel?"
The scene faded with Vernon yelling that the boy had lost it, and should be sent to the loony bin.
Buffy awoke with a gasp, the dim light told her she'd been asleep for hours and it was nearing mid-morning. She leapt up, thankful for the millionth time it seemed, ignoring the slight twinge in her ankle. She sprinted out of her rooms, and up flights of stairs, intent only on reaching Dumbledore's office. Rounding a corner, she was brought up short, landing on her but with gasp. Standing before her was Severus Snape. She just stared at him as scenes from the night's dream assailed her. (Snape, he's gonna kill me.)
End Chapter 8
A/N: Thanks again to all the wonderful people who reviewed! *Piles reviews like leaves and jumps into them.* Also thanks to Catlimere for supergreat ideas and comments! Sorry I haven't gotten to really use them yet, but trust me, I have this outlined for forty chapters so far. Thanks again! Hugs!
TTFN,
Peri