The Trunk of Doom

Malfoy hurried along the corridor, pushing through groups of chattering students and ignoring those trying to lure him into conversation by calling out the latest Quidditch League scores. When he eventually reached his destination – a door in a quiet corridor – he stopped, slightly out of breath. Once his breathing had evened, he rapped on the door with his knuckles and waited.

Seconds passed; Malfoy shuffled from foot to foot restlessly. He couldn't hear any sounds coming from the room. Had the meeting finished? Or were they still in there with a Muffling Charm blocking out the sound? What if they hadn't heard him knock?

He was just about to bang on the door when he heard footsteps on the opposite side coming towards him. The door cracked open a few inches, and an unknown girl's face appeared in the gap. She looked him up and down, saw that he wasn't a prefect and moved to shut the door again.

"Stop! I'm here to see Tom Riddle!"

The girl – a Ravenclaw – shook her head.

Malfoy jammed his foot into the gap before she could shut the door on him. "I don't know who you think you are, but I need to see the fifth year Slytherin prefect, Tom Riddle. It's very important."

The girl shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Malfoy scowled. "I don't see why –."

"Because he isn't here! Someone's been vandalising bathrooms and he's gone off with the others to see if they can find any clues to the culprit." She grinned. "So... if you still want Riddle, you'll need to check every floor in Hogwarts because he could be anywhere. Good luck with that." She shut the door, leaving Malfoy staring at the wooden panel in front of him.

"Merlin!" What was he going to do now? He'd been counting on passing the problem over to Tom, now it was down to him to help Buffy. Somehow, he had to gain admittance into the Divination office and find a way of warning her about Slughorn. Trouble was, he'd no idea how he could do it – it wasn't as if he took Divination.

Malfoy set off for the Divination Tower, his mind focussed on the problem. The stairs changed as he climbed them and, forced to take a different route, he met a group of seventh-years blocking the landing. They jeered as he moved through them, one punching him in the back and sending him staggering.

"Oi!" he yelled, righting himself. Looking back, he saw the culprit was Walburga Black. She'd removed her shoe and was massaging her foot.

"You clumsy oaf, Malfoy! You STEPPED on my foot! You're lucky I don't hex your trousers off so everyone can see your pasty white arse."

"Sorry Walburga, it was an accident. I'm in a rush and..." Malfoy's voice trailed off. Walburga! Walburga would help! "Er, Walburga, any chance of a word?"

"No!" Walburga put her foot down and tentatively put weight on it. "Can't you see that we're busy?"

Malfoy glanced around at the group she was with. Most were lounging against the bannister chattering, three girls shared a magazine, and they all looked bored. "I have something important to tell you." He gave her a significant look. "I'm sure you'll want to know what it is."

Walburga let out a loud sigh. "I doubt it." She put her shoe back on and hobbled a few steps away from her friends so that they had more privacy. They looked over – curious – but didn't move closer or call out questions.

"This had better be good, Malfoy," she grumbled. "I hope it isn't about Rigel's jinxing the Gryffindor first-years or giving me the latest scores of the Holyhead Harpies for Alphard."

"No." He lowered his voice, "It's Buffy. She's about to find herself in a lot of trouble."

"Oh what a surprise," Walburga replied drily. "What's she done this time?"

…...

In the tower, Buffy sat at the professor's desk with an empty chair across from her. A stuffed raven hung from the ceiling above her, its wings outstretched as if in flight, its glass eyes staring down blindly at her.

Something bumped her shoulder as it passed by, and Buffy turned to see the Charmed teapot had come back.

"No more tea. Thank you," she said politely. The thing had been hovering around ever since she'd accepted tea from Trelawney. The teapot hesitated, then dropped, heading for her teacup.

She put a hand over her already full cup. "I said no more. Just go away!"

Instead of retreating the stubborn teapot began to tilt, threatening to pour scalding tea over her hand unless she moved it. Buffy slapped the pot away, sending it flying across the room and hitting the wall.

"Crap!" If she'd broken it, Trelawney wouldn't be happy. But the little teapot wasn't broken at all; it simply spun in mid-air and righted itself. Then it hovered, bobbing up and down in the air currents like a little boat at sea. Buffy could swear it was watching her with its spout.

Could a Charmed teapot see through its spout? It had to be able to see because if it couldn't, how did it know when and where to pour? Did it have a brain? Did it think? Was it aware of anything else other than filling cups? Was it aware of itself and happy being a teapot? And the big one... What if it became evil, freaked out, and turned into Terminator the Teapot?

Buffy shook her head, wondering what rabbit hole she was going down with these questions. No one else thought like her. She knew this because when she'd asked them this type of question, they'd grown quiet, looked at her strangely, and even Lovell had called her a Muggle. Was it true? Did she think this way because she was raised with Muggles or because she was a Slayer and aware of how everyday things could be used as a weapon?

"Did you say something?" Professor Trelawney's bespectacled face appeared on the opposite side of the desk, jerking her from deep thoughts. "Did you call my name?"

"Um, not unless your name is Go Away?" She gestured at the teapot, who ducked behind a statue of Hecate and hid from her. "I've upset your teapot."

The professor shook her head. "It was my name that I heard. If it wasn't you, it most likely was a voice from the Ether, no doubt wanting contact." A smug expression crossed her face. "I often hear voices, it's part of having a Greater Calling. You would not know this because you lack a deep connection to that plane of existence."

She waved a hand. "Continue with whatever it was you were doing. I will try to locate the missing Dioptase crystal." With that, she ducked back down under the table.

Eager to be out of there, Buffy also ducked beneath the table to search for the crystal Trelawney had dropped. The space under the table was stacked with boxes. 'Bedebow's Finest Scrying Mirrors!' one label read, others bore the labels 'Tarot Cards: Assorted Packs', and 'Quality Scottish Rune Stones – When Only The Best Will Do'. There was plenty of dust lying on the floor and over the boxes but no sign of the missing crystal.

A knock sounded at the door and eager to get away from the cloying smell of candles, Buffy choked out, "I'll... get it!"

Pulling the door open, she found a surprised Walburga.

"Buffy! Buffy, I need –."

"Miss Black! Walburga! Do come in!" Professor Trelawney called from the desk. She rose from the floor and beckoned to Walburga.

As Walburga passed Buffy, she stared at her – hard.

"Is there something on my face?" Buffy asked, touching her cheek.

Walburga shook her head, leaving a confused Buffy to follow her.

"Buffy! Stop daydreaming. I found the crystal. Take it! Don't drop it!" The professor pushed a small stone embedded with a cluster of green crystals into her hand. "Put this with the others. You have all three now. This one will help you to find forgiveness. Forgiveness for all the guilt you have carried into this life."

Buffy's cheeks flamed. How had Trelawney known she still felt guilty over mistakes she'd made in the past?

Trelawney made no comment about the blush and went on, "Carry this, the Howlite, and the Black Tourmaline with you at all times. Whenever you sense another of your..." she glanced at Walburga, " ahem, episodes coming on, hold them in your hand. They will ground you in the present. Don't forget –."

"Consider it forever drilled into my brain."

Trelawney opened and shut her mouth a few times in surprise. Behind her back, Walburga mouthed something to Buffy. Unsure of the message, Buffy's brow wrinkled.

Trelawney also frowned at Walburga. "Walburga? Do we have a study session booked?"

"I wanted advice, Professor. Is this a bad time?" Walburga asked innocently.

"Advice?" Trelawney asked. "It is never a bad time to give advice. Don't eat any of the fish tonight. I can see it causing great distress amongst the students."

Buffy couldn't help herself, she giggled.

"Do not laugh at me," said the Seer, annoyed. "For you laugh at the Greater Powers that control our world and send their messages through me.

"Like a telephone exchange," said Buffy brightly.

A tic moved in Trelawney's cheek. "Listen, and listen well." Her voice dropped. "I saw it in the ball, the Shining Ones know of you. Turn your coat, that will confuse them."

"What –?"

Trelawney grabbed at her arm; holding it tightly, she went on, "Your future has a darkness in it. Ignore it at your peril, for soon you will be standing in the grave of those who have gone before."

Buffy stilled and then tugged her arm away. "Um, thanks for the warning."

Behind Trelawney, Walburga had started to make faces again.

"Death and graves, death and graves," Trelawney mumbled, her eyes focused now on something that Buffy couldn't see.

Uncomfortable, Buffy backed away. "Um, yeah, thanks for the warning. Graves hold no fear for me. In fact, you could call me the patron saint of cemeteries, except that to be a saint you need to be dead and good. And I'm neither."

Walburga had started to frown.

Catching sight of it, Buffy added, "Not that I'm Graveyard Girl or anything." Why had she forgotten Walburga had been in the graveyard when she'd fought the three vampires? She was so stupid! No wonder the Hat hadn't put her in Ravenclaw.

Thankfully, Trelawney had transferred her attention to Walburga. "You are manifesting discomfort. Why?"

The older girl pulled her eyes from Buffy. "What? Discomfort? Oh, I'm not... Merlin, yes! I had a vision, Professor."

A delighted Trelawney clapped her hands. "Excellent! Describe it to me."

"I, er..." Walburga gave Buffy an odd side look. "Um, there was a castle and a fat man who lived there. He was in a room going through a stolen trunk."

"That sounds more of a symbolic vision than prophetic," muttered Trelawney. "The man representing authority and greed, the stolen trunk secrets of others.

"Perhaps..." Walburga's eyes seemed to drill into Buffy's. "He was looking for something, Professor. Something that shouldn't be there."

Fat man? Trunk? Understanding dawned and Buffy's eyes widened. Walburga was trying to warn her. "Um, Professor Trelawney? Can I go? I have my stones and... I have this.. er, I need too do this thing."

"Go? But there's so much more we can discuss," Trelawney protested. She put a hand out to grab, intending to grab Buffy's arm and was too slow. Buffy stepped neatly away.

"You've been very helpful with someone who is no longer your student and I really have a thing. Can I go now, please?" Buffy asked again.

"May I," corrected Trelawney. "It's may I, not can I."

Buffy shrugged. "May I go? I can leave you and Prophecy-Girl to discuss... your stuff." She backed away from the professor. "It could be important. It could be Grindelwald! Oh no, he isn't fat. Maybe it's Professor Dumbledore? He's been eating a lot of candy lately."

Walburga rolled her eyes, obviously not impressed with Buffy's sneaky exit.

"Dumbledore?" Trelawney sounded excited. "Did you see any sign of Dumbledore in your vision, Walburga?"

Walburga scowled. "No. It was all very vague. Professor, May I go to my room to meditate further on its deeper meanings?" She took a couple of steps back until she was level with Buffy. "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

Trelawney waved her away. "By all means! Write everything in your notebook and be sure to include every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem." She looked across to the shelf where something round lay under a black velvet cloth. "I shall consult my ball – to see if there are any messages for me."

Leaving the professor to her scrying, the two girls left the room and started descending the stairs. Buffy wanted to run and check her trunk. Had someone found Spikey? She forced herself to ask, "What was all that about?"

Walburga stopped at a large arched window on a small landing half way to the next level. There was a small space below them and groups of students were out making the most of the sunshine.

"Is your school trunk locked and well warded?" Walburga asked, doing nothing to calm Buffy's

"Yes!" She'd made a point of learning warding after Lovell told her his trunk had been broken into in his first year. Someone had draped his clean underwear over the Common Room lamps and a prefect had to get them down for him. Aware someone might play a similar trick on her, Buffy had researched wards and added them to her trunk.

"Good." Walburga narrowed her eyes. "I hope it isn't so pathetic that a first year can break it? If it is, Slughorn will have found it by now."

Did Walburga know about Spikey? "Um, it's an unusual one. If you don't get the first right, the only way to open it is with blood."

Walburga's eyebrows shot up. "Blood magic?! I didn't think the Lovegoods were into the Darker Arts."

"They aren't and it's not Dark if you use your own blood!" Buffy protested. Lovell hadn't approved of it either when she'd told him. "It's not as if I go around bleeding hapless victims every time I need to open my trunk. Oh, and the spell didn't come from Uncle Peregrine's house. It was in a book I bought off a secondhand stall on Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley?!" Walburga raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Your family let you go there?"

"They don't know. I went with Lovell one day when Uncle Peregrine had business at the apothecary's in Diagon."

"You're saying Lovell is acquainted with the place?"

Buffy shook her head. "Um, nope. It sort of drew me with it's dodgy vibes and he followed. He says he isn't going again. While I was browsing the stalls, he got propositioned by a Hag. But that's not important right now. Why has Slughorn got my trunk?"

Walburga leaned her back against the stone window surround. "Malfoy overheard the Parkinson girls saying they'd reported you to Slughorn for having a Grindelwald book. If he finds it, you're in a lot of trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Buffy sat down on the bench beneath the window, glad that Spikey hadn't been discovered – yet.

"The board of governors could make an example of you. You could face expulsion."

"For having a Grindelwald book?"

Walburga nodded.

"And Sluggy has my trunk?"

Walburga nodded again. "Most likely he will have asked the elves to fetch it for him."

Buffy stared out the window wanting to curse the Parkinsons. A young Gryffindor boy past the window on his broomstick, his face radiating pure happiness. Buffy had a flash of envy. Why couldn't her life be that carefree? "It isn't fair. The book isn't mine. Someone left it amongst my stuff when I was studying in the library. I only put it in my bag in case they came back looking for it."

"Are you mad?" Walburga hissed. "Didn't you consider that it might be put there to get you into trouble? Who were you studying with? You're far too trusting."

Buffy gave shot her a side glance.

Walburga continued, "I saw you with that hulking Gryffindor, Hagrid, last week!"

Buffy glared at her. "It isn't Rubeus' fault he's big. I was with Roz Moody, Caradoc Dearborn, Marcus Lestrange, Travers, and Abraxas that day."

Walburga gazed off, thinking over the names. "I doubt it will be Travers, it's unlikely a M–."

Buffy stopped Walburga with a sharp look.

The older girl sniffed. "I was about to say Muggleborn so as not to offend your sensitive nature."

"Really?"

"No, but we'll pretend for the sake of pointless arguing. So not Travers. As for all the others..." Walburga's voice trailed off as she thought about the other people Buffy had mentioned. She ticked them off. "Not Malfoy, as he seemed surprised that you'd have one of Grindelwald's books. I doubt Roz Moody would have a copy, Dearborn is a possibility because of who his parents are, and the rumours are that the Lestranges are no strangers to Grindelwald. Perhaps, whoever left you with it had good intentions."

Buffy looked at her. "I don't understand?"

Irritated, Walburga waved a hand. "To sound you out, of course. To see if you'd show support for Grindelwald."

Buffy shook her head, Grindelwald was the least of her worries. She was more concerned that Spikey would be found. "There's other things I don't want Slughorn to find," she admitted. "How do I get them out without him noticing?"

"Like what?" enquired Walburga, trying not to appear too interested and failing.

" Can you keep a secret?"

Walburga nodded.

"Like –."

A loud pop came from the air next to Buffy and a pufferfish-shaped creature materialised.

Buffy sprang up. "Spikey!"

Walburga screamed and threw herself sideways, almost falling off the end of the bench. Half-jumping, half scrabbling to her feet, she drew her wand. Buffy immediately drew her own and pointed it at the other girl. A terrified Spikey transformed into Horace Slughorn wearing Professor Trelawney's huge glasses.

"It's a boggart!" shrieked Walburga.

"Well duh, I've noticed," Buffy retorted. "And stop pointing your wand at him. I don't appreciate my friends being threatened."

Walburga's eyes went round. "You're friends with that? But... it's vermin!"

Around them, the world seemed to go still. Magic shimmered around Buffy like the desert heat, and the boggart puffed himself up to become an enormously bloated Slughorn balloon.

The Black girl looked from the boggart-Slughorn to Buffy. "Is this... is this a weird Lovegood thing? Like having Spectrespecs and those weird fruits you wear in your hair?"

"Umm." Was it a Lovegood thing? Buffy wasn't sure. "Maybe. He's still a friend of mine."

Walburga slowly lowered her wand. "I'm not here to threaten your..." she found that she couldn't force the word 'friend' from between her lips, so she settled for, "familiar."

Thankfully, Buffy seemed to take that as an apology. Magic dissipated and the boggart snapped and changed. This time he took the form of a young blonde man wearing an ankle-length leather coat. He folded his arms, a sneer of contempt for Walburga on his handsome face.

Buffy stepped closer to the boggart. "Let me introduce you to Spikey, Walburga. I'd appreciate it if you kept his presence at Hogwarts a secret."

Walburga swallowed and nodded.

Addressing the boggart, Buffy said, "Has Slughorn been trying to get in my trunk?"

Spikey nodded.

"Is it safe for you to go back? I need a book out of there."

He nodded.

"Don't let anyone see you," Buffy warned. "Apparate into the gas mask box first. Sluggy won't touch that, he thinks the Muggles have jinxed it. Check the lid is down on the trunk before getting the book."

The boggart nodded and vanished.

Walburga stared at the space where he'd been. "You forgot to describe the book to him," she said her voice uncharacteristically quiet. She looked confused as if she couldn't believe what she'd just seen."

"I showed him, in my head," Buffy explained.

"He reads your mind?" Walburga shuddered. "That's awfully creepy."

"Not as creepy as having a row of severed heads on your stairs."

"They're servants! They look forward to it!" Walburga protested more loudly. "It's a privilege and they get upset if we threaten to bury them. This is completely different. Having a boggart familiar is bad enough but having it disguised as a good-looking young man is just weird. People will think he's your boyfriend. They'll say you have an odd taste in men."

"What with the huh? I don't fancy Spikey, but I'm beginning to think you do."

The air snapped in the corridor as Spikey reappeared. He slanted Walburga a knowing look as if he knew she'd been talking about him. She reddened and look away.

Buffy held out a hand. "Spikey! The book! Bad boggart! No flirting with Walburga."

Walburga made a choking sound. Spikey gave her another insolent grin before pulling a black book from his pocket and handing it over to Buffy.

Forgetting her embarrassment, Walburga stepped forward. "Is that the right book?" she asked. "Is that Gellert Grindelwald's book?"

Buffy nodded, letting her see the title, 'Rarity'. "Those are interlocking 'G's not 'C's. I thought it was a book by Coco Chanel at first. I read a few pages, but it's totally boring. He goes on and on like Dumbledore does." She waved the book. "Any ideas on where to hide it?"

"Not in the Slytherin Common Room or in any of your friend's trunks," Walburga replied. "And as far away from me as possible." Her gaze drifted to Spikey once again. "Why does he look like that? Boggarts are supposed to scare you."

Buffy smiled thinly. "Show her, Spikey"

The boggart's face transformed. Bumps and ridges formed on his nose and forehead and when he snarled, elongated canines were visible.

Walburga screeched, "A vampire?!" She turned on Buffy, her face paler than normal. "You! You were in the cemetery that night in London! You came over to help when the vampires caught me. You fought them!"

Buffy shushed her. "Shhh, keep your voice down."

Walburga ignored her. "I left you fighting them, you –." She stopped her face tightening with revulsion. "No! I don't owe you a Life Debt!" She wagged a finger at Buffy. "Do not even go there! I never asked for help and I was never in any real danger." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "No. They knew I was a Witch and they were going to let me go. I was quite capable of getting away without some girl thinking she's a... a..."

"Vampire Slayer," interjected a voice from behind them.

"Yes! A vampire slayer," Walburga agreed and then they both turned, to see who'd walked up on them without them realising.

…...

A/N;

Thank you to Deiticlast for beta-ing.

Hmm, last chapter was quiet for reviews. I wasn't sure if you wanted any more story. :-(

Or if I was posting too often? So I left it longer before posting.