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A/N
Hey thanks people for reviews. Grr I know this is taking ages, but my damn computer is dying. I'm sorry. : ( please keep reviewing!!!
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Buffy was waiting outside Dumbledore's office, very puffed. She had run the whole way there, and her stamina was still low from the injection she had that morning.
She had decided to wait until morning before alerting anyone about her dream. Finding herself unable to fall back asleep, she had lain awake until the sun rose with a tight, sick feeling in her stomach. She was waiting for ages outside the Stone Gargoyle until the door opened.
"Come in, Miss Summers," came the old man's voice from inside. Buffy ran up the circular stairway and skidded to a halt in front of his desk, panicking.
"Professor Dumbledore! I…I know you don't really trust me that much at the moment…at all…but there's something you need to know. I had a dream…" she said this all in a frenzied rush, then broke off, looking around her.
She noticed that Harry was sitting in a chair to the side of her, with his mouth wide open in shock. Her face drained of colour.
Great, she thought to herself. My only friend, and now he thinks I'm a nutcase. She shut her mouth quickly, and her gaze darted to Dumbledore.
"Um…Professor..?" she looked at him worriedly.
The old man almost smiled. Harry, for his part, was stunned. Buffy had a dream, too? And why was Dumbledore looking so…stern…and angry? Like he didn't approve of Buffy. Harry shook his head in wonder, and waited.
Dumbledore leaned forward, regarding the tiny blonde before him with a closed expression. "Indeed, Miss Summers? Well, don't let me stop you. please tell me what it was about."
Buffy gulped and again, her eyes darted over to where Harry was sitting. Dumbledore, however, was looking at her intently, and those eyes were starting to creep Buffy out.
She bit her lip before continuing. "Ah…Professor…This is kinda private, if you know what I mean…"she broke off.
Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows and gestured towards Harry. "Miss Summers, Mr Potter here has also had an odd dream last night. Concerning Voldemort."
Buffy stared at him before realisation hit. "Oh! You mean that Snake-dude? I didn't know who he was. Zoltanord, huh. Weird name." She shrugged.
Harry's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Dumbledore sat up straighter, his eyes brightening a bit. His mouth, however, was still set in a grim line. "Voldemort, Miss Summers. Voldemort. Yes, Mr Potter had a dream that he was killed last night by a vampire."
Buffy shuddered involuntarily. Not just any vampire, she thought to herself. "That's just what happened in my dream!" she exclaimed.
Harry looked confused. "How did that happen? I only get those visions because our minds have a connection. Why did you get it?"
Buffy blanched and looked at Dumbledore. He frowned. "Mr Potter, I have no idea. Please return to Gryffindor Tower; I wish to speak to Miss Summers alone. If anything else happens, please inform me immediately."
Harry got up, still looking stunned, and walked out of the room. Once he had closed the oak door behind him, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Dumbledore, falling in Harry's empty seat.
"That was close…he almost found out…" she muttered to herself.
"Miss Summers: how did you get that dream?" Dumbledore asked.
Buffy closed her eyes. "It's a slayer thing," she said quietly. "Some slayers get prophetic dreams. I do." She sat silently, looking at her hands. "So, who's this Vulcantar guy? Big Bad?" she asked.
Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Voldemort is a wizard feared throughout our world. He has killed a great number of people and tortured twice that many. He persecutes those who are not pure-bloods. His very name is feared, even today."
"Okay, so what's Harry got to do with him?"
"Lord Voldemort attacked Harry's family when he was a year old. To cut a long story short, as you Americans say, Harry survived. His mother's love saved him, and the killing curse rebounded on Voldemort. He went into hiding for eleven years, but last year he returned to full power. Most of our people are very frightened right now. The Minister of Magic, however, is in denial."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed and he tutted. "Now, Mr Potter seems to have had the same dream as you. Would you like to hear his side of it?"
Buffy nodded silently.
"Well, he said that Voldemort wanted a vampire to be his ally in his war against the light. Apparently, he used a resurrection spell to bring the demon back. Once he had risen, the vampire attacked Voldemort and killed him."
Buffy glared at her clenched fists angrily. "Yeah. That's what happened," she said harshly, choking back a sob. She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down.
Dumbledore tilted his head to the side inquisitively. "And what seems to have you so upset, Miss Summers?" he asked quietly.
Buffy pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "'Cause…because it happened in a cemetery. Restfield Cemetery, actually," she uttered. She looked up at the old man.
"It's a cemetery in Sunnydale."
Dumbledore's eyes widened, and he stood up abruptly. He pushed away his chair and walked over to a birdcage on the wall, and began stroking the bird inside absent-mindedly. Judging by its flame-y plumage, Buffy guessed it was a phoenix. Huh. Until now, she had figured that they were a myth. Amazing the things you discover when your friends think you're a cold blooded killer.
"Is this all you are upset about?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers as he searched for an answer.
Buffy looked up defiantly. "No." she said with conviction, almost like she was insulted. Honestly, did he think she was that stupid?
"I know that demon. He isn't just any vampire, Professor. He's…he…he's called the Master." She laughed suddenly, her eyes bright.
"I've fought him before. I've killed him. I've even smashed his bones to powder with a SledgeHammer when they tried to bring him back last time."
Her voice now had a new edge; a sharper, angrier tone. Dumbledore was surprised, and felt a bit sickened. The girl was here because she had murdered one of her friends, her sister-slayer at that. How dare she talk so crudely about killing?
He felt nausea bubble up inside of him. This girl had no reservations about killing. She even sounded like she enjoyed slaying the vampire.
"Is that all, Miss Summers?" he said, his voice not betraying his emotions. She laughed again.
"Not really. I'm just wigged because…well, he killed me too."
Dumbledore froze. "What?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah. Last time I fought him, he bit me," she said, pulling her white uniform blouse off her shoulder to show the scar that still marked her neck. Twin bite marks, piercing her jugular vein. "He half drained me, but then my blood opened the Hellmouth. I was still alive, just a bit, but I couldn't move or do anything. He dropped me into a pool of water, and I drowned."
Dumbledore sat in rigid silence. "What happened?" he asked.
Buffy felt a lump in her throat. "Ang…Angelus found me. My friend Xander gave me CPR. That's why Kendra was called." She trailed off.
Dumbledore once again felt sickened when Buffy mentioned Kendra's name. He looked at her.
"I think it is true then. Voldemort is dead."
Buffy nodded with a cynical smile. "Well duh. Of course he is. But he's not your problem now. The Master is."
The grey old man smiled. "No need to worry. Voldemort is dead!"
He walked to his desk and wrote a quick note, giving it to a small owl, which hopped over to him. He tied the note to the bird's leg.
"I must inform Rupert of this immediately. He can take care of the bodies."
Buffy barely blinked at the mention of her Watcher's name. She really didn't care any more. They all thought she was a murderess, what really mattered now?
"Believe me when I say you have your work cut out for you now," she drawled. "This guy is not an easy one to kill."
Dumbledore shrugged. "But not impossible. He is just a vampire, after all," he said cheerily. "Miss Summers, you may return to your common room now. Thank
you."
Buffy shrugged and smiled as she got back up. Ha! There's no way I'm fighting him this time, she thought to herself confidently. No way in hell.
After a short walk, Buffy made it back to the Slytherin common room. Passing the portrait of Darla, she stopped for a chat.
"Hey, Darla," she said warily. Even if she was just a picture, she was still Darla. "Hear what happened last night?"
The strawberry blonde vampiress/witch nodded. "Yes. Drusilla had another vision about it. My Sire's been brought back." She gave a malicious, sadistic grin. "Can't say I was upset. You?"
Buffy sighed and rubbed her face with her hand. "Tell you the truth, I couldn't care less any more. No way I'm going to fight him this time. I mean, why should I?" she asked, her voice rising as she grew more aggressive.
"What's the side of 'good' done for me lately?"
Darla's eyes sparkled and she gave a derisive smile. "Not much, I gather." she said sarcastically.
"Ha! My own friends think I'm a murderess, and cart me off to here as a prison. After all we've been through, and they don't trust me. I tried to kill the Master before, and he ended up killing me instead."
Darla shrugged philosophically. "Hmm. Good never really worked for me either. I got sick with syphilis because I needed to work to feed my starving family. I thought I was being a good girl, having the last rites performed before I died. The priest said I would never have a life in heaven for my lack of chastity; my sins were too great," she said with disgust and scorn. Then, her eyes shone.
"The Master gave me an afterlife anyway."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "You mean an unlife," she grated. "He tried to give me that, too. Didn't finish the job, though. I wasn't turned; I was just left to die."
Darla looked at her piercingly. "Maybe it just wasn't your time," she said under her breath. Then, so Buffy could hear her, she said more loudly, "Friends turned on you, then?"
"Yeah. With friends like these, who needs enemies? Me, obviously." Buffy mused.
Darla gave a mirthful laugh. "Haven't you heard about Slytherin?" she asked. "According to the Sorting Hat, Slytherin is where you make your true friends."
Her voice echoed in Buffy's head. She looked doubtful. "Not for me. I only really know two people in Slytherin. I've been here for two weeks, and you're my closest friend out of the two people I know so far. The only other is that prick Malfoy. It's pretty sad, you know. You – real you – tried to kill my mother. You were killed by Angelus. We're kinda enemies."
Darla looked thoughtful. "As you pointed out before: with friends like these, who needs enemies."
Buffy laughed scornfully. "Too true, in my case."
Darla pursed her lips. She stood in her picture gracefully, and smoothed out her dark purple dress, toying with her many black pearls.
"As I told you earlier – I know what you are. You're just like me. We're one in the same. We may not be friends right now, but we've a lot in common."
With that, she dismissed Buffy and walked out of her picture. Buffy cried out, "Wait!" but it was too late; Darla had already left. Buffy turned to the left and just saw Darla passing through a painting further down the dungeon corridor, being ogled at by the warlocks in it brewing a potion.
Buffy raised her eyebrows but let it go. She walked back to her common room with a somewhat lighter heart than she had that morning. Darla was really confusing, and she kept making Buffy feel like a murderess. Something dirty. A sinner, a criminal. But despite that, she had put things in perspective a bit.
True friends, huh. Well, she'd see about that. As Buffy reached her common room, she realised that the Platinum Prick himself was staring at her. He came over and pulled her aside.
"Summers," he said as a greeting.
She narrowed her eyes and leaned up against the cold stone wall in the common room. "What do you want, Malfoy? I'm beneath you, remember."
His raised a brow, and seemed to be analysing her. "I don't think you are beneath me. Never did."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Then what was with the dismissal and insults? Some weird thing you Brits do?"
He smirked that Spike-y smirk. "Not really. I just wanted to see how you'd react. Judge your character."
Buffy folded her arms across her chest defensively. "Oh, and did I pass?" she asked calculatingly.
Malfoy sneered. "I suppose," he drawled. "Sorry if you were upset. I was just testing." He said, not sounding very genuine at all. "It's okay to socialise."
Buffy laughed incredulously. "Thanks for the permission," she said, shaking her head with disbelief. She was caught off-guard when Malfoy put out his hand.
"Friends?" he asked, although it was more of a statement than a request.
Buffy took his hand. She had noted that a lot of students seemed to almost fear the blonde man. Clearly, he had a lot of respect.
She smiled genuinely. "Sure," and shook his hand. Smiling to herself, she walked over to the portrait of Drusilla: her room. She had just uttered the password when she noticed that Darla was sitting with Drusilla.
"Morningstar…Oh! Darla," she acknowledged the vampiress. Darla nodded and smiled, with a swish of her glossy strawberry hair. "So that's where you got to."
The vampire gave a shrewd smile. "Where you meet your true friends," she repeated from before.
Buffy tilted her head to the side. Malfoy, huh? Oh well. As far as friends go, he was pretty average. Then, Buffy was all business.
"Hang on, Darla – what do you mean, 'I'm just like you'? do you mean a witch? A Slytherin?"
Darla frowned. "Both, really. But that's not what I'm talking about. Haven't you found out yet? I'd have thought it obvious," she said incredulously.
Buffy glared. "Hey, I'm not a scholar. I don't know stuff like that off the top of my head!"
Drusilla hummed and started to sway. "Miss Edith says you should ask someone who is," she drawled in her cockney accent, adding a sing-song quality to her voice. The dark vampiress giggled to herself.
Draco had noticed Buffy talking to that insane witch in the portrait of Buffy's room wearing black and red. He began to walk over to ask her about it. The blonde American girl ignored him.
"We're one in the same." Darla said confidently, grinning.
Buffy furrowed her brow and pushed inside her room, flopping on the bed. She growled when she remembered that she still needed to get Vampyr back from Hermione. Buffy really didn't relish doing it.
Then, in a flash of insight, Buffy realised. Hermione was a scholar! She was uber-smart…and uber-nasty. She rolled her eyes. After the Master, she could hardly be intimidated by Hermione's coldness towards her.
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Ten hours later, Dumbledore sat in his office, reading a letter from Rupert Giles.
Dear Albus, it read.
Thank you so much for taking care of Buffy. I'm much happier that she isn't in a Council Institute.
To business, I have located the body of You-Know-Who. It has been cremated. Just yesterday, the new Slayer moved to Sunnydale to replace Buffy. Her name is Faith. She seems happy enough, and is fitting in nicely. She accompanied me on my excursion to Restfield, and we disposed of the remaining corpses of Death Eaters together.
At this, Dumbledore gasped. He didn't know that the vampire had killed other wizards. He read on.
The total death count was fourteen. I must warn you; do not underestimate the powers of the Master. He is an ancient evil, and he is very dangerous.
Thank you again.
Sincerley, Rupert Giles.
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A/N
Hello my pretties. Oooh, for some reason I feel really empowered after writing Voldie's demise. Almost as if as I wrote it, it was really happening, and I killed this huge evil. Heeheeheee it was fun!!!!!
Huh. I really am crazy.
Anyhoo, thanks for all the super reviews, and a pout to all those not-so-super ones.
PLEASE review, I'm living off them!!! And if you have time, have a squiz at my other (more original and longer) fic – the Eight of Prophecy. It's HP, with BtVS elements.
ReViEw!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!