Chapter 16
A Potter in London
- - - - -
Hermione had kept true to her word. The very next morning, she woke Buffy early and dragged her outside to watch the sunrise and study the basics of magical herbs and fungi.
Buffy knew her attention was ebbing. She tried to focus on magical water plants, but she kept staring at the soft golden light now filling the air. It was a beautiful sight.
"Elizabeth," Hermione said sternly. Buffy pulled herself from her thoughts and turned to the younger girl with a dreamy smile.
"Hmmm?"
"I really hope that's the sun you're fantasizing about and not a certain Quidditch player," Hermione admonished her.
Buffy felt herself blush. "Gee, thanks Hermione."
"Glad to be of service," the other girl replied, opening up the book again and handing it to her. "Just study these between your thoughts of marriage and children."
Buffy rolled her eyes and began reading the pages. The girl was sounding more and more like Giles everyday. The material was interesting, she realized. She just didn't have the focus to actually recall what she was reading. After she turned a page, she completely forgot all that was written on the previous pages.
"So... what do you think about Oliver anyway?" Hermione asked briskly after ten minutes of comfortable silence.
Buffy started laughing, looking up from her reading. "I liked him when I knew nothing. Now I want to corner him and force him to talk to me." She winced slightly. "And perhaps a few other things."
Hermione laughed with the older girl. "I wonder if you'll see him again."
"I don't know," Buffy said with a sigh. "I had this dream last night that Oliver and I never talked again and I married Charlie Weasley. For some odd reason, our owl was named Hermy."
Hermione giggled harder. "You have the strangest dreams."
"Don't tell me you've never dreamt of someone," Buffy said, glancing at the other girl. "A special someone, perhaps?"
Hermione blushed brightly and Buffy knew her question had been answered. "See what I mean?" she murmured.
Hermione was rescued by Harry and Ron coming up the hill to collect them. Ron immediately groaned when he saw all of the books spread open around them. "She's bloody mad," Ron said sadly, shaking his head. "She's forcing her to study."
"It's all right," Buffy replied, handing Hermione back the stack of books. "I want to learn this stuff."
Hermione giggled suddenly, realizing that Buffy hadn't had the time to absorb anything she'd read. Hermione made a mental note to make her a copy of notes and set off down the hill after the Potter siblings and Ron.
Breakfast had already been served. Mrs. Weasley waited patiently for the two girls to seat themselves before handing over large bowls of porridge and plates of bacon and eggs.
Percy immediately looked at the younger girl, who was focused on her breakfast. Locked in his bedroom, he'd had time to think. He knew the Minister well enough to discuss his meetings with the man. He'd asked what he'd told the Potter girl and the Minister had said she was going to Hogwarts.
Buffy was explaining to the group, mainly to Ron, who'd asked the question, why she'd never heard of Wizard currency. "All of my funds are currently in a bank in London," she explained, blowing across her spoon. "I fully intend on going back there."
"You could go today," Percy said suddenly.
She glanced at him. "I could?" she asked lightly.
It had been a week since their conversation in the hallway outside his bedroom door. Since that night, she hadn't brought the topic back up nor had he.
It had been another strange week at The Burrow. Fred and George were as maddening as ever. Buffy enjoyed the brief flirtations, but soon came to realize that George's reservations over her had come to an end. Even with her advanced healing abilities, she had awoken three days ago with a bruised back from being tackled by the twin she had once considered silent.
If Hermione and Ginny had been right, then the look in George's eyes when he gazed at her was something like a look she may have given Angel at one point in time.
"I guess I could," she replied, finishing her breakfast. "After all, I'd like to move the rest of my things out of that flat. If you don't mind helping me of course," she said, turning to the twins with a flattering smile.
"Not at all," Fred said, his eyes twinkling.
George coughed into his goblet, but nodded anyway. "Of course."
She turned to Harry, but he started talking before she could open her mouth. "I know, I know. Only one Potter in London at once," Harry said quietly. "I understand, Buffy."
"Thanks," she said, finishing the last of her tea. In the two weeks she'd been at The Burrow, she was beginning to realize she was getting used to tea.
She moved upstairs, volunteering to take Hermione's books back up to the bedroom. She really hoped Percy would follow her, using some excuse to get something he needed for work. Sure enough, she heard his footfalls as he followed her to Ginny's bedroom.
"Percy Ignatius Weasley," she chided, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him into Ginny's room. "What have you done?"
"Nothing," he said, gazing down at her. "Really..."
She gave him an impatient look. "You could at least give me a fair bit of warning."
"I may have mentioned to someone you'd be in London today," Percy replied with a bit of a sigh. "Because this certain someone has been sending me owls all week."
"Owls?" Buffy asked in confusion.
"I suppose it'd be the same as your post office and mail delivery service," Percy replied with a frown. "I told him I didn't know where you would be exactly but I did say that the safest place for you to appear from would be the Ministry. I believe you told me that you were followed by the Council to your flat. They will no doubt be watching you. You can use the guest entrance."
"Right," Buffy said, realizing that. "But wouldn't they recognize me if I attempted to clear it out?"
"They might," Percy said, eyeing her carefully, "but then again, there are spells that can conceal you and fool them."
"I'll ask Hermione if she knows anything," she said, smiling at him. "Thank you, Perce. You're a good friend to have around."
Voices were coming from the hallway. Percy scowled. "Tell that to my dear brothers and sister," he said, opening the door. Buffy followed him out, fully intending on joining Hermione downstairs.
They didn't think they'd run smack into the twins, who were hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl before she disappeared for yet another day.
And they certainly didn't expect her to be walking out of her shared bedroom with Percy.
Buffy gave them both a small smile and ran back downstairs, passing Ron and Harry on the way. Ginny and Hermione were helping Mrs. Weasley clear the tables while Bill was leaving for work. After saying a quick goodbye, he Disapparated.
"Hermione, could I ask you something?" she asked, pulling the bushy-haired brunette aside. "Do you know of any concealment charms that can hide me in London for a day?"
Ginny suddenly grabbed her wrist, her eyes sparkling. "I have an idea," she said with a grin, running upstairs. Buffy followed her, with Hermione at the rear.
Once locked inside her bedroom, Ginny returned with a small box, handing it to Hermione. "Oh," the older girl gasped, finally turning it over to Buffy.
It was a sort of charm that would alter your hair's appearance. She frowned as she glanced at the model on the front of the box, her hair going from wildly blonde and curly to sleek, red and shiny in the blink of an eye. "I might have to try this."
"You don't have a wand," Hermione said, pulling open the box and taking out a single black capsule. She prodded it very lightly with her wand until the capsule became clearer. "Take this," she said, taking a water glass from the nightstand and handing it to the older girl. "And we'll get Mrs. Weasley to do the enchantment."
They moved downstairs. Molly was only too happy to comply. By the time Percy and Mr. Weasley walked back into the Kitchen, they barely recognized the Potter girl. Her hair had been shortened and had gone from blonde to black. It was quite messy around her eyes, which were sparkling hazel globes.
Harry and Ron walked back downstairs, arguing as Harry tipped his broomstick on his shoulder. He stopped dead when he noticed someone sitting at the table. She had black hair that was messy about the eyes. She turned to look at him and grinned.
He smiled, realizing he was looking at someone who so closely resembled his father. "Buffy," he said softly. "You look like Dad."
"Do I?" she asked, pulling out her compact and checking her reflection. "I guess I sort of look different."
"You might not want to let Fred or George see you," Ron warned as he and Harry reached the back door. "They'll tease you forever."
"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered under her breath, running a hand over her short black hair. "How long does this last?"
"About twelve hours, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, reading the instruction booklet that had come along with the box. "How will you be getting to your bank?"
"I'm going from the Ministry," Buffy replied. "I think it'd be safer that way to get into London."
"A wise girl," Mrs. Weasley said approvingly.
"I had good advice," she said, and she couldn't help smiling over at Percy, who was having problems fastening his cloak over his shoulders. "I'd best be off."
"Just send some things via the Floo when you arrive at your flat," Molly continued, helping the other girl put on a long suede coat. Buffy tucked her hair behind her ears and slipped a pair of large, goggle-like glasses onto her face. "Arthur will fix the Floo network and your fireplace can be used then."
"I feel very inconspicuous," she said, her face a perfect frozen mask hidden underneath a pair of ugly glasses and her curtains of dark hair.
"Snape would love her," Ginny breathed to Hermione and both girls giggled at the thought.
"You ready, Weasley?" she asked Percy as they walked over to the fireplace. She took a small pinch of powder and disappeared.
Percy moved to step after her when a loud commotion sounded behind him. Fred and George had arrived, both of them glaring at him murderously. He decided to disappear immediately and Disapparated behind the girl.
Buffy stepped out of the fireplace, brushing a bit of ash and soot off of her suede coat. Removing the classes, she looked around the Atrium. Her eyes fell on the golden elevator. She walked toward it, the heels on her boots clicking. The elevator was packed but floor by floor, more witches and wizards moved out. Finally, she alone remained as she reached the top.
She found herself inside a telephone booth. A small bit of parchment came out and she took it. It was instructions on how to get back into the Ministry of Magic. She tucked it inside her coat pocket and walked out into the loud, summer morning. Before long, she'd removed her jacket and had slipped on her own sunglasses.
She certainly looked like a Muggle as she moved toward a taxi corner, her boots clicking as she walked, holding her head high. Sweeping her dark hair aside, she bent down and sat inside a taxi. "City of London Options," she muttered to the back of his head. He nodded and merged back into traffic.
Part of her was curious as to whether or not she'd see Oliver that day. She smiled as she thought about the lengths Percy had gone to make sure they would meet.
She arrived at the bank nearly a half hour later. After asking if he would remain outside, she moved indoors, pulling her coat around her again.
She moved to the counter and bent down, writing a withdrawal slip. When the queue cleared, she stepped up to the tellor. "Hi," she said with a friendly smile. "I would like to make a withdrawal and close my account."
The woman took the slip and turned to her computer, typing rapidly. "How would you like your currency, ma'am?"
"In pounds," Buffy replied.
The woman nodded and finished typing. "One moment." She made a phone call, asking for someone from the safe. Buffy waited and was soon given a small black package. "Your account has been successfully closed. If you wish to return to reopen your account, we will happily accept your business. Thank you and have a pleasant day."
She pulled her dark hair away from her face as she approached her taxi again, almost dying to count the amount of pounds in her hands. Tucking that package inside her handbag, she opened the door and without looking, slid inside right onto someone's lap. "Oh, God," she gasped, jumping back out, smacking her head on the edge of the door as she did so.
She would have fallen over except two hands took her by the arms and pulled her back into the vehicle.
"Are you all right?" came the concerned voice next to her.
"I will be as soon as the silver stars go away," she moaned, rubbing her forehead. "I am really sorry."
"It's not everyday you get a Yankee girl dropping onto your lap."
Her hand fell away from her forehead and she turned to look into a set of azure eyes. "You," she said in a whisper. "How did you know where I was? Did you follow me?"
"I was a bit late," he said with a shrug, moving back over. She closed the door and the driver looked at her for instructions. "Are you all right?" he asked with a chuckle, seeing the pained look on her face.
"I can still see the stars," she said, sounding breathless as she ironed the skin over her forehead. "Damn, that hurt."
"I didn't mean to startle you," he said, his own voice twisting into an apology. "But we should probably tell this man where we're going."
"Greenwich Market?" she asked him, settling back into her own seat and quickly buckling her seatbelt. "Now that we've both apologized... I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," he said, giving her a casual sideways glance. "I never would have pegged you the brunette though. You look good."
"You look pretty good yourself," she said, grinning at him. Her hazel eyes were sparkling under a curtain of dark hair which swung in her face. She pulled it back, tucking it into a small hairband. "I hate going undercover."
"I suppose this is one of those things I could ask about," he said.
"You could," Buffy said quietly, "but I'm not sure how much you could get out of me. I am going to ask you where you're from though. Your accent is adorable."
"Scotland," he said with a smile. "And I'm glad you like it. Yours is nice, too. Completely American, but nice."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," she said, rolling her eyes. She reached down and opened her handbag, pulling out a long black envelope.
"So that's why you were at a Muggle bank," he said, watching as she started counting the amount inside.
"It would make sense," she said, glancing at her bank slip with a slight frown. "All of the funds I have are, err... pounds." She gave him a strange look. The driver would have noticed the slip of his tongue.
He was looking into his rearview mirror, looking oddly curious. They both fell silent until they reached the market. She paid the driver and they both got out.
"You're fancying a day shopping?" he asked curiously.
"I hope you don't mind," Buffy replied quietly. "I'm trying to find more Muggle clothing with which to embarrass you."
"I don't think you could embarrass me," he said, taking her elbow and pulling her in front of them as they passed into the crowded area. "But I insist on lunch. I didn't eat much earlier."
She agreed about that. She'd managed a bowl of porridge, only because it had tasted so wonderful. He released her elbow as they entered the Market. "So tell me Oliver Wood," she said, turning back to him. "You don't mind shopping with a lady all day, right? Even if she is a Yankee girl?"
"Not at all," he said. Her eyebrow lifted behind her sunglasses. He grinned and looked down, his shoe scuffling the floor. "Well, I'll admit I'm not a big shopper. But if this is how I get to know you, then so be it."
She grinned and tucked her arm through his, pulling him deeper into the Market.
- - - - -
Several hours later, she and Oliver Wood were sitting inside a small cafe, enjoying lunch and tea. She had just spent nearly an hour telling him about her life.
He wasn't smiling so much now. He was just gazing at her intently, watching as the young, dark-haired woman spoke. He could sense a bitterness within her and was dying to ask about it.
She debated on whether or not to mention the fact she was a Slayer. She finally decided she would tell him. And he knew a lot of his questions had suddenly been answered. The bitterness in her eyes was gone as she finished, reaching for her still full cup of tea. Her eyes met his and he smiled at her.
"Your story is an interesting one," he finally admitted. "I knew there was something about you. It was more than the accent and the Muggle clothes. I cannot believe that you're not a myth."
"I'm real," she said, gazing at him as though gaging his reaction to her tale. She hadn't gone into details about why she was in England except telling him she was adopted.
"I can see that," he teased before glancing down at the remains of their lunch scattered across two regular plates and salad bowls.
"I'd appreciate it if you shared a bit about yourself," she replied, sipping her tea.
He shrugged. "What would you like to know?"
"Are you all about Quidditch, Oliver Wood?" she asked, a smile circling her lips.
"Sometimes I'm all about being a proper gentleman," he replied. With a sigh, he picked up his own cup and proceeded for another quarter hour to talk about the past two years since he'd left Hogwarts. She seemed to be listening intently, asking questions only when he paused.
They left the cafe and returned to the market. Buffy was easily carrying enough shopping bags to fill two taxi cabs, he observed. They paused near a small stand and they sat off to the side with ice cream. "It's the least I could do," she said, sipping her drink a bit, "since you bought lunch."
He continued talking. It was different speaking to someone who wasn't well versed in their world. She was definitely one of the most interesting people he had ever met. Not to mention the fact she used a vocabulary he hadn't a clue existed.
And she was discovering he was much more than just a Quidditch player. He had parents he spoke of fondly, and two younger siblings he referred to as 'royal pains in the arse'. He talked about what his family did during his holidays.
When he had stopped talking, they found themselves back outside the Market. Oliver had been kind enough to help her with a few of her bags. She was now attempting to squeeze items together to help rid the bulk. "I do, after all, need to transport these to The Burrow," she said hastily, glancing at her six bags woefully.
"When do you need to go?" he asked lightly as they waited in a queue for a cab to return.
"Soon," she said with a sigh, turning back to him. "I told the Weasleys I'd be back before dinner. And I still have to empty my flat."
"You have a place in London?" he asked, sounding interested. She nodded. When they finally got a taxi, she asked him to take her back to her flat. They talked again, this time about their homes.
When they arrived at the antiques store, Buffy pulled out her bags and glanced at Oliver Wood inside. He was still sitting there, looking pensive and, if his face was any indication, sad. "Do you want to come along?" she asked quickly.
"It takes a brave woman to invite a man into her room," he replied, lowering his eyes. There was a faint hint of a flush on his cheeks.
"You don't have to stay for long," she replied, wrapping her coat around her with one hand while managing her bags with the other. "I wouldn't mind the company."
He agreed finally and they went upstairs. She told the caretaker she was leaving that day and to cancel the rent Joyce had sent from California.
Once inside, Buffy groaned. In the two weeks of neglect on the place, it really had become a foreign, dusty place. She sighed and set her bags down, spreading her arms and turning back to her visitor. "Here we be," she said, a note of false cheer in her voice. "All the depressing feet of it."
As she retreated to her bedroom to pack the rest of her belongings, Oliver took a casual look around. "Did you have mail delivered here?" he asked her.
He couldn't hear her response. She came back a moment later, tuggling a large green bag. "Sorry," she gasped, setting the bag down near her packages, "what was that?"
"These," he said, handing her a small pile of letters.
She picked them up and sighed, sitting on one of the mismatched chairs to read the different letters sent by the Council, or, rather, by Quentin and his gangling task force.
The last few letters were from home. Buffy smiled at a letter from Willow before glancing at the final letter, which was from Faith and her mother.
When she stood up several minutes later, there were tears in her eyes. He glanced at her in concern. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, sniffling as she moved to the kitchen, tossing out every single thing from her refrigerator. He walked over to the table, where a letter from her mother and some girl named Faith sat on top of the stack. He casually glanced over it and then bit his lip. It was wrong to read another girl's letters, but it was filled with such love and pain it nearly took his breath away.
"Buffy?" he asked gently.
"My adoptive mother is Joyce," she said, nodding at the letter as she dumped a bowl of moldy green things into a large black bag and slammed the refrigerator door shut. "And the other girl is Faith. She's the second Slayer I told you about." She opened the cabinets and started emptying the contents into the side pockets of her green bag. When she'd finished, she zipped it up and set it down in front of the fireplace.
Spying the small white lights around the mattress where Harry slept, she quickly began pulling them off the walls and around the highlights. She couldn't quite reach the place where they'd been attached to the ceiling.
"You don't always have to be so brave," Oliver said softly, coming up behind her. He could feel her body tense slightly as he reached up to unstick the lights still attached. He dropped the set in her hand and stepped away.
"Yes, I do," she replied, her voice as soft as she began winding the set around a bit of hollow cardboard. "I... I..."
She walked back over to her purchases and set the lights inside one of the bags. "I think we're done here," she admitted sadly.
"I'm not going to pretend I really know you," he said, watching as she moved back toward the mismatched chairs and began searching for things she might have missed. "But I can tell when a person is in pain."
She looked at him, really looked at him. Then she smiled, but it was a tight, forced expression that twisted her pretty face. "I don't know what to say," she finally admitted. She brushed past him, her eyes focused on the tiny bathroom in the corner of the flat.
He reached out as she swept by him, taking her arm. She swung around to look at him. Her eyes seemed to soften, her resolve nearly gone. "I guess I don't always have to be this strong," she said, tears welling in her eyes.
He was unaccustomed to dealing with women and their emotions, he realized. He released her arm and she gave him a sad look before disappearing inside the tiny room. He could hear her sniffling as she moved around inside. He sat down on Harry's mattress, stretching out slightly as she returned, holding a pretty red blanket in her arms. A small black case was in her opposite hand, containing her things from the small bathroom.
"You're leaving now, aren't you?" he asked.
She nodded, turning to him. All of her things had been neatly placed by the fireplace. She pulled a bit of parchment from her pocket, along with her jar of Floo powder. She picked up her fire tongs and tucked the parchment inside. After throwing in her powder and saying "The Burrow", the slip of paper disappeared.
"They'll be along any moment," she said, stepping away from the fire. To his surprise, she took his hands, leading him back toward the stairs. They descended together. She still hadn't let go of his hand by the time they moved back onto the street, where the taxi was patiently waiting.
"Buffy," he said softly, touching one of her dark locks of hair. "You look pretty even with black hair."
"Harry said I looked like our Dad," she said, grinning.
"Maybe," he said, touching her face. "But you're really an incredible woman. I'm so glad I met you."
"Me too," she said. The sadness was back in her eyes now. She blinked, looking down.
"What did I tell you about that?" he asked, tipping her chin back up. There was fear in her eyes now. He didn't move for a few moments. She finally stepped back, although she still held onto his hand.
"I don't know when I'll see you again," she said quietly. "But I really hope I will."
"You only have a week and a half before you return to Hogwarts," he said with a grin. "I'll find a way to see you."
"I hope," she said, and hope filled her face. "Because I don't know what I'd do without you telling me those funny stories again." Her eyes sparkled slightly and she released his hand with a sigh. "But if I don't see you again, we'll always have London."
He leaned over and pulled her into his arms for a brief, casual hug. He felt his heart speed slightly and he could tell by her quick intake of breath that she was surprised by his gesture. As they pulled apart, he saw that she was smiling brightly.
"I'll be seeing you," she whispered.
He nodded and got inside the cab, turning to stare at her as she moved away. Before the car moved out of sight, she turned back, giving him a familiar half-wave.
And then she was gone.
Buffy returned to her old flat, collecting her letters. By the time she'd finished, there was a small sound as Fred and George came from the fireplace, one right after the other. They looked stunned to see her appearance.
"You look good," Fred said seriously.
"Very good," George agreed.
"I'll be happy to tell you all about it," she said, shoving the letters inside the top part of her green bag, "but I'd like to get back to The Burrow first, if you don't mind."
One by one, they shrunk her bags into tiny, compact cubes, floating them into the green flames and watching as they disappeared. They allowed her to go first and she did, handing George her green bag with a smile.
"The Burrow!" she shouted, dropping her own handful of Floo powder.
- - - - -
Hours later, settled in the comfort of her borrowed bed, Buffy lay reading the Quidditch book Ginny had loaned her. Hermione had cheerfully given her a fair stack of parchment with color-coded notes on the Potions materials. Buffy promised the studious girl she'd look at it, but had gone straight to the Quidditch book.
A knock sounded on the door before dinner. She sat up, unable to push the content smile off of her face.
Harry was standing on the other side, glancing at his sister in surprise. She still wore the short, dark hair, but she knew it would fade before long.
"I wanted to show you something," he said, pulling her out into the corridor. He handed her a handsome leather album and she glanced inside of it. There were many pictures, nearly all of them with their parents holding a baby Harry, grinning and waving. "I told you you look like Dad."
Buffy grinned as she saw the resemblance. "Do you think he'd be pleased to see me like this?" she asked, touching her short black locks.
Harry laughed as he mussed it up. "You have a strange resemblance to our Potions professor, too."
"Fred and George told me that," Buffy laughed as Harry tucked the album under his arm.
"How was London?" Harry asked gently.
"It was wonderful," Buffy said with a dreamy smile. "So many shops, so little time."
Harry laughed as he shook his head at her. "You really are my sister."
"Hi, all," a crisp voice came from the landing. Percy suddenly appeared, holding his briefcase and looking slightly agitated about something.
"Hey, Percy," she said softly. Harry just rolled his eyes and brushed past the elder Weasley brother, disappearing downstairs. She moved toward him, setting a shaking hand on his arm. "Thank you for today. I think it's exactly what I needed."
To her surprise, Percy rolled his eyes. "Fred and George have been owling me all day," he said in a slightly irritated voice. "They've been asking me if I'm moving in on you."
"Maybe you are," she teased, her lips curving.
"I wouldn't believe that for a second," he replied, setting his briefcase down. "I assume you enjoyed London?"
"I always enjoy London," she said happily. "And the company was fantastic, as usual." She bowed slightly to him. "I owe all of this thanks to you, Percy. I don't think I could have had a better day."
"See?" he said lightly as Mrs. Weasley called them down to dinner. "I told you that things would get better."
"You certainly did," Buffy laughed, closing Ginny's door and following Percy back downstairs. He was struggling to unhook his cloak. "Here, wait," she said, still standing slightly above him on the stairs. He half turned to her and she bent down, unfastening the heavy silver clip. "There," she gasped, feeling slightly lightheaded.
"Thanks," he said with a quick smile as he turned and walked back downstairs.
Smoothing her still-dark hair, Buffy joined the group. Fred and George were glaring at Percy as he sat down, but sending casual glances toward Buffy.
They didn't deny that they had seen the two of them walking together again. And then Percy had turned. She had stopped. Her arms had gone around him. And a moment later they had parted, walking downstairs as though nothing had happened.
Fred had voiced his opinion to Harry earlier. "I can't believe she'd ever want Percy," he said in disgust.
"He does have brains, though," George admitted heavily as he glanced at his broomstick.
"She doesn't like Percy," Ginny assured them both. "She likes you guys. So lay off of our brother."
Harry had looked mortified when they said that she liked Percy. They were always sitting together and talking. He was just surprised he hadn't seen the signs before. He was easily the most cold and pompous of the Weasley brothers, but he had hoped she would have picked someone closer to her age. Someone like Fred or George.
He could tell that one of the twins really liked her. He couldn't tell which these days. At first, he'd thought it was Fred because of the way he'd keep provoking her. George had finally stepped out of his shell, however, giving Fred a good run for his money.
Ginny had been repeating her words all day, since they came up with a new instance where Buffy and Percy had been together for the past two and a half weeks every five minutes it seemed.
But after seeing Percy and Buffy on the staircase, they weren't so sure that Ginny was telling the truth anymore.
Neither was Harry. He fully intended to ask her about it after dinner.
- - - - -
Chapter 17... Meanwhile, in California... Faith makes a few discoveries of her own. Add in a bit of the Order and there's a longer chapter.
Chapter 18... Diagon Alley. Buffy gets her wand. And she gets a few other things.
To the Reviewers:
A nice, short chapter. Hope you guys don't mind. I just wanted her to have a GOOD day.
I picked Wood... for now. Heh. I think they'd have fantastic chemistry should it be allowed to surface. And I think it's starting to. Nothing seriously mushy yet. But there will be later on. Maybe.
I've decided on Sirius, too. The prophecy will continue into the Hogwarts year.
As for the Weasley twins, oh, well. She'll let them down gently eventually. Although it'd be great delicious fun to write for that relationship, I just don't think this fic is heading in that direction. Well, it could if I ever changed my mind and wanted to go evil. Look for more Oliver appearances in the upcoming chapters. I've only worked my way through Chapter 20, so I know for certain he has two more appearances. This is getting hilarious.
Enjoy the lightness while it lasts. It'll get darker again. As for Percy, well, I always believed he had a heart. This only proves it. And Wesley as the DADA professor? What happens to Faith? I can't promise anything, but the DADA position is connected to him. As for Buffy's strength, with the magical powers she'll be learning, it'll make her too powerful. She has to draw the line so that she isn't found. This requires a compromise. And she'll be doing a lot of it.
Wow. Lots of comments. I have to finish a few rewrites in Chapter 17, so it'll probably be posted on Wednesday. Enjoy!