Chapter notes. Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter! Your comments are always appreciated. I read every single one.
This is a new adventure so get prepared for a wild ride.
…...
Nothing is Forbidden...
Friday 8am, breakfast in the Great Hall
Buffy sat at the Slytherin table, alternatively yawning and nibbling at a slice of toast. At the front of the Hall, the Headmaster was talking at the lectern while, across the table, Fiona and Uma were whispering to one another. Uma's face was a fiery red, and Fiona looked ready to strangle someone. Despite her enhanced hearing – or maybe because of it – Buffy was having trouble focussing on their words. The way Dippet's magically amplified voice bounced around the Hall made her want to put her hands over her ears. Doing her best to ignore the Headmaster's voice, Buffy listened to her friends. They were angry; the Parkinson girls were planning a party on Halloween and they hadn't been invited.
Buffy dropped the remains of her toast onto her plate and shook the crumbs off her fingers. She obviously hadn't been invited either and she didn't care – any party those two were holding was one she'd avoid. She'd overheard the Parkinsons calling her 'another Lovegood freak' too often.
Uma moaned, "...it's not fair. She knows Samhain is a ritual for the dead and I should..."
Ritual for the dead? Buffy frowned, not liking the sound of that. A ritual for the dead on Halloween? Any rituals on Halloween weren't good news. The Great Hall faded as Buffy slipped into memories. Not a memory from this life, but one from a life past. Once more, she was back in her old house in Sunnydale.
"What happened?" she asked Willow, feeling disoriented. There was a stupid brown wig on her head and she wore the costume of a seventeenth-century lady. When she'd seen the outfit in the fancy dress shop she'd chosen it to impress Angel – that hadn't been a good move.
The Headmaster's voice boomed, "... until a time when the Demons..."
Demons? Buffy jerked back into reality, her head turning so fast that it jolted her neck.
The Headmaster continued, "...are no longer a threat to our students. I'm sure you will all understand the importance of this and act with the greatest decorum." He gripped the sides of the eagle-shaped lectern and regarded the student body with a sorrowful expression.
Buffy noticed other students were leaning back on their benches and looking at her. Crap! What had he said? Or... had she done something silly while zoning out? She shot Fiona and Uma a horrified look and felt immediately better when she was they were still whispering together. If she'd done something crazy (like yelling 'hot vampires!') they'd have stopped talking. Buffy waited, and once the doddery, old Headmaster began shuffling back to his seat, she prodded Travers.
"What did he say?" she asked the surly boy, keeping her voice low. "What did he say about Demons? Um, or was it Dementors? I sort of missed the speech."
"Missed the speech?" Travers drew himself up and sneered. "Then, perhaps, you should start opening your ears more and your mouth less."
"Whoa! I've hardly said a word since I came in!" she protested. She hadn't, she'd been listening to Fiona and Uma talking about the death party. "So? Spill. 'Cos you really need to start opening your mouth more, y'know... since you're the one who's all ears."
His face darkened. "I'm what?" he hissed.
Buffy looked him over carefully. He seemed a trifle touchy about the ear comment. Did he have something wrong with his ears? Is that why he wore his hair long, to hide them? She smiled, to show him that she wasn't being unfriendly. "I just meant... y'know... me." She pointed at herself. "I'm the girl who opens her mouth more than her ears. And you're the boy who opens his," don't say big, "ears more than his mouth. So... I'm, um, all ears."
Mollified, Travers stroked down his hair – over his ears. "Yes, well..." He chewed at his bottom lip, considering her question. "The Headmaster spoke rather a lot, but little of it was meaningful. Mainly, he warned the students not to go beyond the castle wards and that the Hogsmeade weekend has been cancelled again until further notice due to the Dementors."
His eyes flicked to her. As if reaching a decision, he leaned in – so close that his long nose almost touched hers and she could see each of the amber flecks in his brown eyes.
"I've heard," he began quietly, "that an elderly witch, flying home from a friend's, saw a group of Dementors on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest two nights ago. The previous evening, another had been spotted hovering above the platform of Hogsmeade station. The two witnesses had gone their to finish a bottle of Firewhiskey after being thrown out of the Hog's Head. The Ministry doesn't know whether to count it as a genuine sighting or not. Sightings by the inebriated aren't usually counted." He settled back in his seat, watching how she'd take the news.
She cocked her head. "You mean sightings by drunks?"
Travers closed his eyes momentarily and then grimaced. "That is the general meaning of that word," he spat. "I know that you have the misfortune to be American, and are also immensely stupid, but do try to keep up."
"Oi! Don't speak to Buffy like that!" Fiona exclaimed, who'd stopped talking to Uma. She pointed her fork in Travers' direction. "Why are you so nasty to her? She's always nice to you and that's how you repay her?"
Further along the table, one of the Parkinsons called out, "Do you think he's going to be egged again?"
The other let out a loud bray of laughter as if she found it insanely funny. "Marcus! Marcus! Look, the streak of grease is going to be egged again!"
Travers froze. He glanced across before quickly looking away. "Thank you very much, Buffy," he ground out through gritted teeth. "And then you wonder why I don't talk to you. This is it! Now, I've the attention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his gang of cackling cronies."
Buffy frowned, scrunching up her face. "Sort of dwelling in Land of The Lost here, Travs. Who is he who can't be named?"
Buffy leaned forward, trying to look past Travers to see who he was talking about. "Do you mean Abraxas?" The blonde was watching this section of the table intently. Further along, Dolohov caught her eye and smirked. "Or are we talking Dolohov?"
"I'm guessing he means Tom," Uma said, with a sly grin. "You can't see him from where you're sat, but he was doing that under his brow glare thing. You do a similar one when the Grindylows bang on our bedroom window. He must have overheard Travers insulting you or maybe Malfoy did and told him."
Travers scowl deepened. "Your boyfriend's cronies are a set of twisted, narrow-minded..."
"He's not my boyfriend," Buffy protested. "According to Mom, I've got too much schoolwork and there's no going to datesville. What's Tom done to you?"
Travers snorted. "Nothing, and everything. That group he hangs around with are a set of bullies. They've made my life a misery for the past four years." He rose to his feet, staring down at her almost resignedly. "All I wanted was a little peace so I could concentrate on my OWLs this year. And what happens? You arrive at Hogwarts and start to complicate things!"
"Me? What have I to do with it?" Buffy huffed in exasperation. How had she done to complicate it? Fiona was right, he did go out of his way to be horrible to her. And then, when she looked at his face, remembered the single letter he'd received and his reluctance to open it, she had flash of understanding. This wasn't just about her, or Tom's gang, or his pre-exam anxiety. Something was going on in his life, some 'thing' that she knew nothing about. Quietly she asked, "What's wrong, Travers? What's happened? This isn't just about me, is it? "
He paled. His almost paper-white face made the dark shadows under his eyes stand out even more starkly. Those eyes darted nervously to Fiona and Uma before landing back over to her. "I... look, I'm sorry." He took a ragged breath. "It isn't you. I've... I've... things going on... I live with my aunt, you see. My father..." he swallowed, "isn't here...the war..." He scowled again. "Muggle problems. I'm sorry, alright?" Not waiting for an answer he whipped around and strode off, pushing past Tom's group who were leaning back on their benches to hinder his exit.
Malfoy leaned back in his seat, revealing Tom sat on the other side of him. Catching Buffy's eye, Tom narrowed his gaze and nodded in Travers' direction. Buffy took it as a question, He wanted to know if Travers had upset her. Buffy shook her head and rolled her eyes, implying Travers was a drama queen. Tom pondered her face for a long moment before returning to his breakfast, and the rest of the boys followed his lead.
"Isn't it odd how Travers thinks you are Riddle's girlfriend? I mean, it's not as if you two ever look at each other or speak..." Uma innocently teased.
Buffy laughed, picked up a crust from her plate and threw it at Uma. "Not happening!"
The crust pinged harmlessly off Uma's top and the plump girl brushed away the crumbs. "If you don't want gossip, maybe you should stop staring at him so much."
Buffy cringed. Had she been staring at Riddle without realising it? That gave her the urge to look at him again and she had to physically stop herself from looking up in his direction. With her eyes on her plate, she said, "Tom's in most of my classes and he's always the one with the answers. What else am I supposed to look at, besides his face?"
Fiona and Uma snickered.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Stop it. You guys are supposed to be ladies and you're making me check for the nearest exit." Then, remembering Uma had championed Caradoc only a few days ago, she added, "And who was it who said my knight in shining armour was a Gryffindor? You two need to pick a side and stick with it."
Uma flicked the crust back at Buffy, it missed and landed on Travers' abandoned breakfast plate. "That's up to you. And them."
Fiona nodded. "What happens if... if they both ask you to go to Hogsmeade with them? Who are you going to pick? You'll need to pick one of them."
"No, I won't, " Buffy replied smugly, reaching for another slice of toast.
Fiona looked mildly shocked. "You'd not go?"
Buffy began buttering the toast. "Nope. I promised Roz and Lovell that I'd go with them." She laughed, looking every inch the devil-may-care girl who'd nothing in her head but classes and cute boys. Mentally though, the Slayer was already planning an adventure outside of Hogwarts. Those Dementors were close by and she didn't like it.
….
That night...
Buffy stopped halfway along the pathway and looked back towards the kitchen door. Tiptoes had been kind, unlocking the outside door and promising to leave it unbarred, ready for her return. Had she taken advantage of the elf's eagerness to be her friend? She winced, knowing that she had. Hopefully, no one would find out and, if they did, Buffy decided that she'd go to the Headmaster and tell him it was all her fault and take the punishment he gave her.
At the bottom of the path, she stopped again and looked around. This was her first time leaving the castle. Which way now? She'd spent most of the day planning her escape route,but she hadn't planned her destination. To her right, lay the boathouse. If she sailed across the Black Lake she could aim for the cove where the first years had sailed from. That way she could go straight to Hogsmeade Station. On the other hand, the Forbidden Forest lay before her looking dark and impenetrable. The witch had seen Dementors lurking on the outskirts. Could she cut through and reach Hogsmeade that way?
She had to go with the forest. The Dementors might have moved in, camping out or whatever cloaked non-beings did when they weren't attacking people. She set off at a run, her feet flying over the ground, the wind whipping back her hair as, for the first time in over a month, she ran with Slayer speed.
She had to slow her pace upon entering the forest. Inside, it was darker, the smallest amount of moonlight bleeding through the branches to the ground below. It was enough, though. Buffy could make out tree roots jutting up from the ground like withered arms, ready to trip and entangle the unwary. Over to her right was a beaten earthen path. She headed towards it, skirting around half-hidden boulders, avoiding deep pockmarks in the ground, and climbing over a series of tangled roots to reach it.
Once there, she looked back to get her bearings. This path must be the one the groundskeeper used, for his hut lay not far from where she stood. Beyond it, the hill rose with Hogwarts castle standing proudly against the night. On the night she'd arrived, there'd been lights in every window. A beacon guiding the students towards it. Now it was a dark and turreted silhouette standing out against the star-strewn sky. The Slayer stared, enthralled. She sensed not only the magic that had gone into its creation, but also the accumulated magic from the generations of students who'd practised magic within its walls.
The entire area pulsated with magical power. Buffy dropped into a crouch, placing both of her hands flat against the surface of the ground. Through the leaves and earth, she felt magic rise up to meet her own. Her palms tingled, almost like they did when she shook hands with a powerful Wizard. Was Hogwarts no longer just a building? Was it somehow sentient – a guardian? The idea was reinforced by the wards that she sensed strung around the building, like a many-layered spider's web.
Did the Headmaster know how powerful that place was? A tingle of excitement ran through her. She'd never, ever, get over being born a Witch and having real magic flowing in her veins. Here she had the potential to become far more than just a slayer with a short expiry date. The last Slayer, Lily Moon, had proven that she had the chance of a real life. Buffy had the sudden urge to run to a place that didn't exist here and tell the Scoobies her good news.
It saddened her. Dawn, Giles, Xander, and Willow would never know she'd been reborn as both a Witch and a Slayer. "Why does the past whisper to me, when I can't whisper back?" she asked no one in particular. The forest made no reply.
Pushing aside the melancholy, she rose and concentrated on her surroundings. The unevenness of the dirt path that stretched in front of her, the way the topmost branches swayed in the wind above her head yet the lower ones barely moved. A small creature rustled the leaves a short way off, reminding her she wasn't alone here. She began to walk, following the path deeper into the forest, knowing that without her enhanced night vision, she'd have been stumbling and would have soon lost the path.
After walking for a good fifteen minutes without seeing anything larger than a wood mouse, she heard an unusual sound from ahead. Waiting by an ancient oak, Buffy listened, her senses straining. Had she heard the thud of a footstep? There was a second thud. Something was moving. She ducked behind the tree, resting her back against the rough bark while peering around the trunk.
A deer stamping its foot? Or something larger?
A twig snapped, and then a swishing sound. A Thestral or a Centaur's tail? Centaurs were reclusive and disliked humans in their territory. Had she accidentally wandered into their area? She peered around the tree again. Nothing in sight.
It's probably a deer.
A Centaur would be cooler though. They used bows as weapons, and they'd be able to have a fun conversation about whittling arrows. Or... would be better if it wasn't a Centaur? A deer wouldn't be able to tell the Headmaster that it had seen her in the Forbidden Forest after curfew. She heard more dull thuds. Whatever it was, it was moving directly towards her. Her Spidey-senses prickled as it closed in on her hiding place.
It knows I'm here.
Should she stake it? What if it was a Centaur? Or a Goblin? There'd been a big Goblin battle nearby. If she staked it, Professor Binns would say she'd incited another war! Her senses prickled, more urgently now. Not a vampire, and it wasn't the same kind of prickling low-level demons like a Grindylow gave out. Another thud, closer by. Too big for a deer.
It's on the opposite side of the tree!
Holding her wand in her right hand and a stake in her left, Buffy stepped out from behind the tree to face it.
