- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Fatigue
Stupefy my heart to every day's monotony,
Seal up my eyes, I would not look so far,
Chasten my steps to peaceful regularity,
Bow down my head lest I behold a star.
Fill my days with work, a thousand calm necessities
Leaving no moment to consecrate to hope,
Girdle my thoughts within the dull circumferences
Of facts which form the actual in one short hour's scope.
Give me dreamless sleep, and loose night's power over me,
Shut my ears to sounds only tumultuous then,
Bid Fancy slumber, and steal away its potency,
Or Nature wakes and strives to live again.
Let each day pass, well ordered in its usefulness,
Unlit by sunshine, unscarred by storm;
Dower me with strength and curb all foolish eagerness—
The law exacts obedience. Instruct, I will conform.
Amy Lowell
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-
04. The Other Enhancements
-
After breakfast, Dumbledore ushered Buffy out of the Great Hall through a door behind the teachers' table to a small, connecting antechamber that was furnished with an unlit fireplace and several portraits. "How do you do this fine morning, Lady Violet?" the Headmaster paused his step to deliver a cordial greeting to the only portrait that seemed to be awake at the moment.
At this point, Buffy had snapped out of her stupor long enough to notice that Dumbledore was talking to a picture and moreover, the picture was talking back.
"Very well, Headmaster," responded the wizened, pale old witch in the painting. "It's always a pleasure to see you." Her gaze shifted from the tall wizard to the young girl standing beside him. "And who is this lovely young lady?"
When Albus heard no forthcoming response from the Slayer, he placed a long finger underneath her chin and closed her mouth, biting back an amused chuckle.
"This is Miss Elizabeth Ashbery. She's a visiting family friend from America," the Headmaster obligingly informed. "You must excuse Eliza, I fear the awe-inspiring sights of the estate have rendered the poor girl speechless," he added in an audible aside.
Buffy resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at her companion, deeming it too juvenile of a gesture, even for someone of her outward appearance. Instead, the petite blonde poked him discreetly in the ribs as they stepped back into the Entrance Hall.
Chuckling merrily, the Headmaster led them across the chamber to a doorway guarded by two stone gargoyles on either side, who bowed low as Albus pushed open the heavy wooden door and motioned for Buffy to follow. "This is the Staff Room," he said as she glanced around the long paneled quarters that housed mismatched, dark wooden chairs placed around several tables, a large wardrobe, as well as some armchairs facing a large fireplace. "I advise you to enter this room only in the company of a staff member as the gargoyles will challenge any student who tries to knock on the door," he added as they left the chamber. "There's Argus's office. He's the resident Caretaker of the school, currently away on holiday. Not a favorite amongst the children though, possibly because the man wants to single-handedly reintroduce corporal punishment into our educational system," he shrugged, pointing to a gloomy-looking door to their left as the pair ascended the wide marble stairs onto the first floor.
"This floor is home to many classrooms, Muggle Studies, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic to name a few. And there," Albus pointed to a door next to a small staircase as they turned down another corridor, "is Minnie's office. Minnie is the Deputy Headmistress, a highly gifted witch and long-time colleague. Also, the Transfiguration professor and Gryffindor Head of House."
Buffy had half a mind to ask Dumbledore what all the head of house business was about, but that thought was quickly forgotten as they traversed up the stairs to the second floor where the Headmaster ducked into a doorway clearly labeled 'Girls Lavatory—Out of Order'. A perplexed look settled over the blonde's features as she reached out a hand to halt the wizened wizard's stride. "Um, why are we going in there? And why are you going in there?"
"Fret not, I'm not going to use the loo," he grinned, leading the charge inside.
Arching a finely shaped brow, Buffy trailed after him a beat later. Upon entering, the blonde Slayer decided that it was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom she had ever been in as her keen eyes surveyed the worn wooden cubicles and the row of chipped stone sinks under a rectangular cracked and spotted mirror. She watched curiously as Albus bent over to closely inspect each of the rusty copper taps until he stopped at one and beckoned her nearer.
"There, do you see the small engraving of a snake?" he asked.
Buffy nodded with a confused frown, "And?"
Shaking his head a little, the Headmaster regaled the veteran Slayer with the tale of the Chamber of Secrets from its inception to the defeat of the basilisk as they made their way past the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office and back up the marble staircase up to the third floor. By the end of his engrossing story, Buffy was almost disappointed that Albus wasn't a Parseltongue as she had decided that it would have made for an interesting detour.
Stopping in front of the statue of a one-eyed, humpbacked witch, the wizened wizard pulled out his wand, gave Buffy a wink, and tapped on the statue while whispering, "Dissendium." At once, the witch's hump opened in a crack wide enough for a reasonably thin person to slip through. Grinning down at the surprised Slayer, Dumbledore tapped the statue with his wand again, closing the gap. "This is Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, or more importantly to certain more knowledgeable students, a secret passage out of the castle and into the neighboring town."
"This is so not the traditional tour," Buffy muttered, rolling her eyes wryly.
"Of course not! I have the utmost respect for following the rules and deferring to the proper authorities."
"Uh huh," Buffy replied, appearing unconvinced, "that's why you had to crash at my place two years ago, because the 'proper authorities' wanted to give you a permanent walking tour of Alcatraz, right?"
"Azkaban, not Alcatraz, dear. And I assure you that incident was through no fault of my own," Dumbledore defended lamely and half in jest.
"That's what all the wanted fugitives say," she retorted in a teasing tone.
They ventured onward to the Trophy Room, then the Armor Gallery, and the Charms corridor before heading off to the next floor. After taking an extensive tour of the massive school library orated by Madam Pince, the pair ogled the opulent prefects' bathroom before Dumbledore took them down a narrow corridor leading to a single, unobtrusive, and rather ugly tapestry. Turning around to regard the young blonde, the Headmaster's voice abruptly turned somber. "Behind this tapestry lies a room housing the Mirror of Erised." At Buffy's puzzled expression, he explained further, "It is imbued with ancient magicks to show not one's face but his or her heart's deepest, most desperate desire. Would you like to see it?"
The Slayer thought on it for several long minutes before firmly shaking her head no. "Thanks, Dumbledore, but I think I'm better off not knowing for now."
The wizened wizard nodded in understanding. "That is a wise decision, my dear."
As the pair roamed through the fifth and sixth floors rather uneventfully, Buffy couldn't help but ask, "Dumbledore, have you ever looked into that Mirror of Aroused before?"
At that, Albus bent over in a fit of uproarious laughter that took him quite some time to recover from, while Buffy recovered from the ensuing embarrassment from her verbal slip. "Yes, I have. In fact, I had a look-see just last month, Eliza."
"What'd you see, if you don't mind me asking?"
"A pair of fur-lined bunny slippers."
"No way!" Buffy exclaimed, peering at the Headmaster incredulously.
Sighing softly to himself as they trekked up to the seventh floor, Albus lamented, "But alas, no one ever believes me."
Maneuvering through a series of corridors and hallways, they arrived at a large painting of a motherly-looking witch. "Top of the morning to you, Penny!" he greeted cheerfully.
"How do you do, Albus." The witch smiled warmly in return. "Oh my, could it be that I'm finally getting an occupant?" she inquired excitedly as her eyes caught sight of the slight blonde.
"Indeed, Penny! May I introduce to you Miss Eliza Ashbery, she's a dear friend of mine who will be staying here for quite some time."
"Nice to meet you," Buffy said politely. She still felt a bit odd about speaking to people in paintings—it just seemed unnatural.
"This is Madam Penelope Puddlemere, a former mediwitch to Hogwarts, and the entrance to your suite," Albus explained. "You'll need a password to enter, my dear."
What the heck. Do all wizards and witches have such weird names? It's like all alliteration all the time, Buffy mused before saying to the painting, "Flowering onion."
The painting swung open instantly, revealing to the pair a view of the spacious enclosure, which Buffy at once decided was very homey with an old world charm. They entered into a sitting room that housed a large fireplace facing a plush circular rug. To the left sat a set of three comfortable-looking couches with thick cushions placed around an antique coffee table. To the right of that was a large bay window, complete with a cushioned window seat.
"Dumbledore, this place is amazing!" she breathed.
"Only the best for my favorite girl," replied the Headmaster, his voice full of affection as he placed a hand on the small of her back to direct her attention. "There's more, Eliza."
Buffy looked in the direction of Dumbledore's gaze and walked as indicated into the connected bedroom. A large four-poster bed stood at the center. Off to the side was a dresser next to a capacious walk-in closet. A plush armchair and ottoman sat in a corner. The bedroom contained two doorways, one leading to a study with an empty wall to wall bookshelf and expansive desk and the other to a gorgeous bathroom suite complete with an enormous rectangular marble bathtub.
Buffy whirled on the tall, elderly wizard and hugged him graciously, then looked up into his face and muttered a heartfelt "Thank you."
Albus smiled. He took out her suitcases from inside his robes, placed them on the floor, and unshrunk them. Then, he beckoned, "There's one more room, actually. Come."
They filed back into the sitting room. Buffy watched attentively as Albus crossed over to the wall to the right of the fireplace and touched a stone level to his forehead that was slightly lighter in color than the rest. The stones below it moved apart piece by piece until a door-sized opening appeared. Buffy grinned in anticipation and fell into step after Dumbledore as he ducked inside. The enclosed space turned out to be a huge training room. Its entire floor was completely covered by a thick mat with various physical training equipment located in the corners of the room. Buffy gave Albus the first genuine smile he'd seen on her in the past two days, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. He showed her that the doorway could be operated by touching the same stone before leading her out.
"Thank you so much!" Buffy gushed.
"There's no need to thank me, my dear. Now shall we get on with the rest of the tour?"
"Definitely."
-
"Tell me what happened, my dear."
Buffy expelled a long, ragged breath. It was the moment she had been dreading all day. Lying sprawled on her back in a picturesque, green, sloping lawn beside the Headmaster, she threw an arm haphazardly over her eyes to shield them from the blinding glare of the afternoon sun. The day had been going so well in her opinion... in fact, she hadn't succumbed to the gut-wrenching anguish once thanks to the wizened wizard's engaging company. Pushing herself up to a sitting position, Buffy sighed again. The blonde Slayer mentally braced herself for what was to come, for she knew that Dumbledore deserved at least an explanation for aiding and abetting in her self-imposed exile. After several minutes of pregnant silence, she began in a quiet voice.
"After Dawn—you know—things were quiet for a while. Then one night, I was patrolling with Faith in Cleveland when a portal opened right in front of us. A man came out of it. He felt like pure evil." She sighed. "Faith attacked him without a second thought. She always was the impulsive one."
Buffy paused to gather her thoughts as Albus sat up as well.
"He was strong, as strong as Glory. Faith and I both got hurt pretty badly before the portal started to close. I ended up pushing myself in with him through the portal to save her."
She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders and back stiffened noticeably.
"Turns out he was a fallen angel. We landed back in his hell dimension, the one the Bible talks about, if you can believe it. It was—bad, really bad. Willow got me out, only a couple of hours later, technically speaking. But I was there for a lot longer. Forever, it seems."
Buffy's voice had dropped to a pained whisper at that, but her volume returned as she plowed onward.
"I had a hard time dealing after that, but Spike helped. He always knew how to take care of me. Soon after, we found a prophecy stating that Abaddon, a prince of Hell, would rise bearing the underworld's wrath during the next equinox. The other was just a lesser Hell demon, a scout for the main event set for a couple of months later. I had met Abaddon during my stay. He had been one of the uber big bads. We prepared as well as we could, but it wasn't enough. In the end we won, but most of us didn't make it, myself included. Then the Powers That Be cut me a deal, and now I'm back, again."
"How did Elizabeth Joyce Ashbery come about then?"
Buffy uprooted a handful of vibrantly green grass, watching idly as the loose blades drifted down to the ground from her outstretched fingers. "Lorne, I stayed with him for a couple of days before you came. His Wicca friend helped me change everything then, even made it look like my corpse was still rotting at the morgue."
Dumbledore studied her features intently. "Elizabeth, I presume comes from Dawn and Joyce from your mother, why Ashbery for the surname?"
"It was Spike's—"
Pressing her eyes tightly shut, the petite blonde clambered abruptly to her feet, wanting more than anything to get away from the comforting warmth of the sunlight, the too perfect scenery, and the benevolent Headmaster. I don't deserve to be here, she thought suddenly. I don't deserve to be alive. I'm unworthy. Buffy felt the air promptly swoosh around her, but dismissed it was a summer breeze. When she finally opened her eyes a few seconds later, she was standing back in the dark, dank recesses of the Hogwarts dungeon.
Albus Dumbledore blinked.
Blinked again.
Then, blinked a third time for good measure.
The Headmaster sprang swiftly to his feet as the fact that Buffy Summers had just disapparated right in front of him sunk in to his brain. In Hogwarts! he amended a split-second later. Without any knowledge in apparition!
Before he could append to that frantic train of thought, a soft 'pop' sounded from the spot Buffy had vacated just seconds before. The blonde Slayer apparated three feet in front of him, her features displaying as much surprise as his must have shown at present.
"WHAT the hell just happened!" Buffy yelled, wide hazel eyes locking with his in dismay.
Albus was at a loss himself. That... was certainly unexpected. Fortunately, the wheels began turning almost immediately. He had known two other Vampire Slayers prior to his friendship with Buffy Summers and had learned first-hand that they were certainly not immune to wizarding magic. Unless...
"Eliza, did you by chance acquire any new abilities in addition to the younger physical appearance?"
Buffy chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "I think Whistler said something about me getting enhancements," she supplied a beat later.
"Whistler?" Dumbledore prompted. Buffy had never alluded to that name in any of their previous conversations.
Her lips twisted into a dark scowl. "He's a Balance Demon working for the Powers. That jerk always manages to come around with his obnoxious self when I'm feeling most miserable." Then Buffy added as an afterthought, "And he's one of the worst dressers I've ever seen."
I'll never understand the girl's obsession with fashion, Dumbledore thought to himself, shaking his head slightly. "I have a theory. Would you mind terribly if I attempted a few spells on you?"
Buffy shrugged apathetically. "As long as it's not maiming or dismemberment, I'm good. Or the hair, I happen to like the hair."
Dumbledore's mustache twitched in amusement. "I have absolutely no intention of bungling your lovely flaxen tresses, my dear," he assured her sincerely.
"Okay then," she nodded solemnly and stood still before him.
Albus deftly produced his wand from the inside of his robes and pointed it toward the blonde Slayer, chanting Wingardium Leviosa in his mind.
Nothing. Intriguing.
"Dumbledore, what was that supposed to do?" Buffy inquired curiously.
"That was a levitation charm, my dear."
"Oh."
"Something a bit stronger, perhaps." Stupefy.
Buffy frowned uncertainly as a jet of brilliant red energy blasted from the end of the Headmaster's wand and shot towards her, only to dissipate into nothingness as it hit her squarely in the chest.
Incarcerous.
Thick ropes materialized out of thin air around the tiny blonde only to disappear as they attempted to wrap around her lithe form.
Albus grinned knowingly. "My dear, would you allow me to experiment on your blouse?"
Buffy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Um, okay, as long as you promise to change it back."
Her tank top transformed from black to white with a flick of his wand, then reverted back to its original color with another wave.
"Excellent, excellent. It appears, my dear, that you are now impervious to wand magic," Albus concluded enthusiastically, his bright blue eyes gleaming behind the half-moon spectacles.
Buffy was taken aback. Well, this is new. "I take it that it's a good thing?" she ventured.
"Naturally! This is a most extraordinary development," Dumbledore confirmed, eager to continue. "Now, onto the next matter: how did you manage to disapparate?"
"You mean that weird teleporting thing?" Buffy worried her bottom lip again. "I'm not sure, I didn't mean to do it. I just really didn't wanna be here anymore. It's like one minute I'm here and the next I'm back in the ugly dungeon. Then, I was really shocked to end up there and wanted to ask you what happened. And before I knew it, I was back here again," she babbled.
Albus grinned and pulled a toothbrush out from his forget-me-not blue robes, holding it in the center of his flattened left palm.
"Eliza, I want you to try something, please," he gestured to the toothbrush. "Concentrate on the toothbrush, try to levitate it."
Buffy arched a fine brow at Dumbledore's odd request but quickly shrugged it off. She stared hard at the toothbrush in question for a good minute. He felt slightly disheartened when it failed to move.
"Try again, my dear. Picture it lifting upward in your mind. Believe that you can."
Buffy sighed. She didn't understand why Dumbledore was making her do this. That appellation, or whatever was just a fluke. Magic is so Willow's gig. Her gaze flitted up to Dumbledore's face and she paused. He looked so incredibly hopeful that the effect was as compelling as Dawnie's puppy dog eyes. Buffy mentally refocused herself and tried again, seriously this time. She pictured the toothbrush floating a few inches above Dumbledore's hand. After a beat, the toothbrush gently rose in the air, stopping to hover half a foot over Dumbledore's hand, much to Buffy's baffled amazement.
Dumbledore appeared extremely pleased. "Another marvelous discovery! It appears that you are now a wandless witch."
"WHAT? I can't be a witch! I distinctly recall you saying that Slayers can't be witches." She stared at him in disbelief. Not only do the fucking PTB have to condemn me to life again but they just had to imbue me with more powers to do their grunt work, too! Ugh!
Albus plucked the still floating toothbrush out of the air and tucked it back into his robes along with his wand. "What do you call levitating the toothbrush then? It was certainly no cheap parlor trick, Eliza. And judging from your past experiences, I daresay that you just may be the exception to that rule," he explained calmly.
Great, now I'm even more of a freak of nature. A witchy Slayer. Who would've thought... Buffy massaged her temples dejectedly, unable to poke a hole through his logic. "Can you do wandless magic?"
"Very little, and it does not come easily."
"I see."
"You've be given a rare gift, Eliza, a gift that most of my kind would kill for. Don't throw it away no rashly," Albus entreated. "Look at where you're standing, my dear. What better place to master your new abilities than here?"
Buffy stared deeply into the wizened wizard's piercing blue eyes as she mulled over his advice. "Really?"
"Really, really."
"Okay, then. I'll do it," she nodded slowly, not exactly sure why she was agreeing.
Dumbledore looked as if his birthday and Christmas had just come early on that day.
-
The Slayer hastily cleared that last thought from her head. She had been doing well with the mourning and grieving by keeping a fabulously busy schedule, also known to the world at large as the avoidance and escapism method. Things were just fine and dandy as long as she didn't dwell on it too much or wax too maudlin or introspective. Buffy had only permitted herself to cry twice since the funeral ceremony, a feat she was particularly proud of. No stranger to dealing with death and loss, the veteran Slayer coped—not in the most accepted of ways, but she was coping nonetheless.
It had been five and one half weeks since she had moved into Hogwarts. The days flew by in a blur. Dumbledore spent as much time at the castle with her as he could spare (which was frankly, not very much at all). She always noticed that his mind seemed preoccupied, worried even. It was obvious to her that the Headmaster's priorities resided elsewhere. Buffy was fine with that, in fact, she understood perfectly. In the past, she had often conscientiously pushed her boyfriends, best friends, and even family aside whenever the need arose. It's the mission that matters, she thought wanly. Professor Dumbledore's visits had consisted of little more than dropping off obscure wandless magic texts and helping to hone her newfound powers. Much to the Slayer's surprise, her wandless magic studies were progressing at a breakneck pace despite the lack of constant guidance. Needless to say, Albus was pleased.
After they had perfected her apparition technique three days after her arrival, Dumbledore had insisted that she acquire an apparition license; something to do with penalties if she were ever caught without one. The London Ministry of Magic impressed even Buffy, she'd never seen so much gold in one place. The look on the intake wizard's face when she had informed him that she didn't have a wand to be weighed was priceless. That is, before Dumbledore fibbed she had broken her old wand and was just about to purchase a replacement. The test was simpler than the Slayer had envisioned. Now, Buffy Anne Summers was the proud owner of one apparition license, addressed to one Elizabeth Joyce Ashbery.
Besides wandless magic, Buffy had begun to self-study a handful of other subjects at the Headmaster's suggestion. She'd never imagined herself as the scholarly type before (except maybe for picking up Italian, and passable French and Spanish during her extensive travels in Europe), but magical knowledge was endlessly fascinating to the former 'problem student'. Buffy was already up to Fifth-year level reading in History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Herbology, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts with some help from the Hogwarts teaching staff.
Professor Sprout had been more than happy to show her the hands-on aspects of Herbology. Buffy thought it a shame that the other respective professors were away for the summer. She had decided to forego Divination, however, since her prophetic dreams and Slayer senses already worked well enough to her own liking. The librarian, Madam Pince, had been incredibly helpful in selecting appropriate reading materials. Buffy supposed that most students here probably weren't as avid about reading simply for the sake of learning as she was, and that Madam Pince must have been elated to finally be of such assistance. As it were, Buffy had busied herself during most of the daylight hours pouring over musty tomes. In her study, the wall-to-wall bookshelf was quickly filling up.
During the nights, Buffy had taken to patrolling the Forbidden Forest after Dumbledore granted his permission. She had encountered many interesting monsters as well as some creatures that she previously thought existed only in fairy tales. Cornish pixies, unicorns, and centaurs. Oh my! One centaur, in particular, had decided to befriend her, Firenze. And I used to think Angel was the king of cryptic. Buffy remembered them more at night, and was only too willing to vent her melancholy and rage on the more sinister inhabitants of the forest surrounding Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the Forbidden Forest was already beginning to run short on her potential prey.
After a great deal of pestering and pouting on her part, Dumbledore had begrudgingly acquiesced that she could apparate and disapparate whenever wherever she wanted just under two weeks ago. Buffy had been ecstatic, although she couldn't for the life of her figure out why Albus had been so reluctant. She had promptly proceeded to spend an entire frenzied week shopping to her heart's content in Paris, London, Madrid, and Milan, among other places with Angel's unexpectedly loaded Swiss savings accounts from his Wolfram and Hart stint. Now, she was the proud owner of dozens upon dozens of new haute couture outfits and a tantamount number of shoes and accessories. Sure, the petite blonde recognized the shopaholic kick for what it was, but it was still better than brooding. Buffy had also patrolled some of the aforementioned cities, taking care to apparate and disapparate from inside her room, as the Headmaster had warned her emphatically that not doing so would greatly upset the Hogwarts staff.
In the past weeks, she had gotten to know more of the faculty, meeting the newcomers as they dropped by. Buffy had obligingly answered their questions as much as possible without divulging her old identity. The blonde Slayer had developed an immediate fondness for the stern but kindhearted Professor McGonagall, one that was clearly reciprocal. She was the only one Buffy had confided her past to, apart from Dumbledore. For some reason Buffy knew Minnie, as the professor had been affectionately dubbed, could be trusted. On the other hand, the blonde Slayer had gotten the wiggins the instant she laid eyes on the Hogwarts Caretaker. Filch seemed little more than a nasty old man who was inexplicably bitter about the fact that she was allowed to meander around the school and grounds at all hours. Plus, his cat Mrs. Norris gave her the creeps as well.
Buffy bookmarked her page and stowed away the book for later, standing up and stretching languorously. "Today's the day," she announced quietly to herself. Tucking a slip of paper and her wallet into her jacket's pocket, Buffy donned a pair sunglasses, and disapparated.