91 Gentlemen Callers...

Buffy flicked her eyes from the boy beside her bed to the clock on the infirmary wall. Four minutes! He'd been sat by her bed for a full four minutes without speaking a word and, since he was supposedly here to cheer her up, she'd be damned if she'd break the silence first.

'Only a short visit, mind,' Madam Bones had warned them before retreating to her office. That meant four minutes already gone from a short visit... And that four minutes of silence looked like it might drag on to five. Buffy snuck another look at Caradoc.The blonde was leaning right back in the chair, using his heels to tilt the chair so that it balanced on only two legs. Despite the boyish antic, there was a brooding expression on his normally cheerful face.

What was it about her and brooding guys?Did she attract them or turn them into brooders, or what? Buffy stared unseeingly down at the red blanket on her bed, memories from her past starting to play out in her head. Angel, the original brooder. He'd been darkly handsome with a magnetic power that always drew her to him in any room; he'd lost his soul when they'd become too close... For some reason, Tom always came to mind when she thought of Angel...

Caradoc Dearborn though was no ensouled brooding vampire. He was much more like Riley. Her brow furrowed, trying to remember more about Riley. There was something about him that was important. What was it? The harder she tried to remember, the more elusive it became. Why could she remember some things better than others? Finding her mom dead was a memory engraved in her brain, as was that final leap from the high tower to save her sister. And there was the nagging sense of loss again. Her old family were gone, along with good friends...

She blinked back the tears filling her eyes. Both Dumbledore and Trelawney had told her the past would overwhelm her if she didn't stop dwelling on it. That the best thing she could do was concentrate on the present.

Why was Caradoc here? Were Uma and Fiona right about him? Did he like her? Had he accidentally summoned snakes during the duel and felt guilty? Was he here to apologise or to ask her for a date or find out how she'd survived a deadly snake attack?

The Blasting Charm followed by a Shielding Charm had saved her life, that and the Slayer's healing powers. Luckily, no one had thought to question how a girl, who'd known nothing about magic until recently, had been able to reel off two highly powerful spells in quick succession. Professor Merrythought and Professor Slughorn had complimented her spell casting and suggested a few alternatives should she get into a tight spot in future. The only adult to eye her thoughtfully was Dumbledore.

"Buffy?"

She jerked her head, realising that while she'd been thinking, Caradoc had been talking.

"It's nothing. It doesn't matter." And he sighed – heavily.

It obviously did matter. Buffy gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I'm sorta Distracted-Girl today. I think it's the snake venom. It's worked its way to my brain cells and they've died off faster than normal. Tell me again, and I shall endeavour to listen and not drift."

"Forgive me?" He picked up her hand from the cover, cradling it in his as if it were a bird that might fly away. "Forgive me for letting you get hurt. Please?"

"Oh!" Uma and Fiona had been right! Caradoc had summoned the snakes. Now he wanted to apologise. "We all make mistakes, Doc. I do accidental magic all the time. A quick..." She pulled her hand from his and waved the forefinger in the air like a wand. "... bibbidi-bobbidi-boo and BAM! Something, somewhere, explodes, and it's my fault again. Or, in your case, there's less bam-mage and more snakes."

Caradoc frowned.

Buffy gave the back of his hand a reassuring pat. "Don't tell anyone this, but I almost burnt down the library when I first came here."

"I didn't summon the snakes," Caradoc replied, looking puzzled. "I'm apologising for being a coward." He raked a hand through his hair, lifting it from his scalp and creating golden waves. "Last night, I abandoned you. I just..." He shivered. "I hate snakes! The way they move, hiss, slither, and lunge scares me. My boggart is a snake, even those terrify me."

"Oh," Buffy bit her bottom lip. "I kinda like boggarts."

Caradoc peered at her, puzzled.

"Um, I mean, I'm not scared of them. Not that I've met that many – it's not as if I hang out at the local boggarty club. It's just that, the only one I met he... well, he changed his face when I whacked him over the head with a Charles Dickens." She sat up, leaning towards Caradoc, her eyes bright and shiny. "I have a theory. I think, if you take something weighty, something written by Dickens or Shakespeare or one of those dead guys who drone on, you can smack fear into most of the creatures in –."

"Buffy, what are you talking about?"

Caradoc was probably not the best person to listen to her theories on how to deal with the creepies of the wizarding world. She shrugged. "Um, ignore me and the babblefest that is Buffy Summers. I'm just a girl who likes to babble like a whatchamacallit..." She clicked her fingers. "...y'know...a babbling brook."

"You're strange," said Caradoc staring at her.

"Not exactly what a girl likes to hear," she muttered. Okay, she wasn't a teenage girl desperate to fit in, but no one wants to be called strange.

Realising what he's said wasn't exactly a compliment, Caradoc panicked. "No, I like it. You're... simple... and honest."

Inwardly, Buffy froze. 'Simple and honest?' She was a Slytherin Slayer; she was not simple or honest!

"Your uniqueness marks you as a Lovegood," he amended, trying to regain lost ground. "That's good. Really good."

Buffy looked away to hide her eye roll. Either Caradoc knew her Muggle father or he'd heard the rumours that her real father was a Dark Wizard. She felt Caradoc's hand close around hers, squeezing it gently – his magic warm and soothing – and she turned to meet his eyes.

Those eyes brimmed with sincerity. "I really like the fact you are so different to the other girls."

"Um, thanks." Would he like it if he knew just how different she was?

He ploughed on, "You're the most amazingly brave girl I've ever met. I don't understand why the hat put you in Slytherin. You should be a Gryffindor."

Buffy smiled faintly. She was glad not to be a Gryffindor. They were such a boisterous, upfront lot of students. She preferred being in Slytherin; it was quiet, no one pried, and if you wanted to sneak off, you could, and no one questioned you. The Slytherins were big on privacy, and that suited her.

Caradoc leaned across the gap between the chair and the bed. His thumb was tracing circles over her fingers. "After we bonded during the journey up here..."

Bonded? They'd bonded?

"...I hoped you would be placed in Gryffindor. I wanted to spend more time with you." He cocked his head, searching her face, before asking, "Why do you think the hat made you a Slytherin?"

She shrugged. There was no way she could tell him the truth! "Alzheimer's," she replied brightly. "Not me! The hat!"

He laughed. "You've spoken to it several times since, haven't you? Why? What did you ask it and what did it say to you?" He smiled again, a golden smile taking the sharp edges off the question.

'Less inquisitor and more intrigued suitor,' her Slytherin senses warned. 'Don't trust him.'

"Why the twenty questions?" she pointedly asked.

Worry in his eyes, followed by, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... pry."

"Interrogate," she corrected, not letting him off the hook so easily.

He gave her a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Caradoc left the chair to sit on the bed beside her. "I - I really like you, Buffy." He shuffled back further on to the bed and placed his hand on her right side so that he had one arm on either side of her body.

Buffy sucked in a deep breath. What was he doing? This was an intimate position for them to be in. It was nice but sort of odd, and Madame Bones might be annoyed if she found them like this.

"I've been thinking about you a lot," he was saying. "More than any other girl. Is it wrong of me to want to get to know you better? I want to know what your favourite book is, your favourite subject, what you think of all the teachers and I need to know your favourite sweet at Honeydukes. It's crazy of me to act like this, I know. I don't care. What do you think?"

Buffy swallowed, feeling cornered. Caradoc was the son of Inter-Aurors, and she was an illegal vampire slayer, currently wanted for murder. That didn't bode well for their future together and made dating him a risky thing to do.

"Buffy?" he asked. "Say something."

She was saved from answering by the sound of the infirmary door opening, both she and Caradoc automatically looked over. In case it was a teacher, Caradoc moved – to put more space between them. Tom Riddle strode in, all dark swirling robes, hair the colour of midnight and the harsh yet beautiful face of an avenging angel.

Tom! Buffy's thoughts screamed. Tom was duelling Lovell next to me when the snakes appeared! Tom Riddle summoned the snakes!

"Buffy?" There was a note of strain in Caradoc's voice. "I want to do this formally."

She turned her face to look at him, her mind still on the dark Slytherin. "Hmm?"

"I need to ask you something. Would you do me the honour of..."

'Holy crap,' thought Buffy. 'He's gonna propose.'

…...

When his Housemaster handed him the note to take to the infirmary, along with a wink and a sly comment about enquiring about Miss Summers' health, Tom had the urge to run.

"I am Tom Marvolo Riddle," he'd whispered to himself. "I will be the greatest Wizard that has ever lived. I shall be greater than Dumbledore, greater than Grindelwald and far greater than Merlin. People will fear to say my name, I am not afraid of facing a young Witch in the infirmary."

So with his head held high and his face shining with innocence, Tom Riddle made his way along the corridors, the epitome of a perfect prefect – and almost fell apart when he opened the door.

Dearborn and Summers. Sat on the bed. Together. One glimpse was enough to send his magic haywire.

"Thank you. You're a good boy, Tom," said the nurse, taking the note from him.

Struggling to control his magic, it had taken all his willpower to nod, let alone speak. He was not a good boy. Why did they keep saying it? He wielded his charm like a weapon; his politeness a tool that convinced others that he was harmless. If he'd been a good boy, he wouldn't have summoned the snakes and put the girl he liked in danger. Why did no one see through his pretence and stop him? He'd always assumed that they were all stupid, but was it really because no one wanted to look too deeply, to see what was going on below the surface? Was it because, when it came down to it, no one really cared?

As the nurse scanned Slughorn's letter, Tom strained his ears. What were Dearborn and Buffy discussing? Why was he sitting on her bed like that? His hearing stretched to the limits, Tom was rewarded only with the faintest murmur of voices – he couldn't make out a single word.

Eventually, Madame Bones folded the letter and put it into the top drawer of her desk. "There's no reply, Tom. I'll speak to Horace at dinner." She eyed him thoughtfully. "Would you like to see Buffy while you're here?"

'NOOOO!' he screamed. 'I don't want to talk to Buffy.' Outwardly, he maintained a neutral expression. "I have no wish to disturb her, Madame Bones," he replied crisply.

The nurse rose. "You won't be. Buffy has made a miraculous recovery, but young Mr Dearborn has been here quite long enough." She gave him a conspiratorial smile. "I'd say that it's high time you ousted him from her company."

Put like that, Tom could hardly refuse and he followed the nurse into the ward.

"Mr Dearborn!" called Madame Bones, waving. "It's time to say goodbye. Visiting is over."

From behind the nurse, Tom saw the Gryffindor stand, bid Buffy a quick farewell and walk towards them. Dearborn nodded to the nurse and then hesitated before meeting Tom's eye. In Dearborn's mind, Tom saw calculation, a frisson of carefully hidden anger, followed by the image of the snakes in the duelling class.

He knew! Had he come here to tell Buffy? Did he hope to use the knowledge and gain her confidence? It angered Tom, but he knew better than to let a rival see his anger and frustration. Instead, he nodded – a mask of cold indifference on his face – and walked past the other boy.

"Hello, Buffy," Riddle called when he grew closer to her bed.

"Tom," she answered flatly.

It was time to turn the charm on. Remembering the instructions from Malfoy's book, he tilted his head as if admiring her and gave her a warm smile of appreciation. "It gladdens my heart to see you in such great spirits after suffering such a traumatic ordeal." It had sounded old-fashioned to him, but he was hardly an expert on the language of love and flirtation.

Buffy snorted. "Sure, I look real good for someone who's recently been eaten by a fifty-foot poisonous snake."

She sat up straighter, her eyes raking over him, looking for... he wasn't sure what. He was acutely aware that she hadn't invited him to sit and it would be impolite to do so without being asked. It forced him to hover next to her bed, feeling tall and awkward.

Refraining from fidgeting – he hated it when people fidgeted – Tom cleared his throat. "Madam Bones tells me that you've made a fantastic recovery."

Buffy merely arched a brow. "Madame Bones knows I'm not easily killed."

Tom smiled: she'd never know how glad he was of that.

Buffy let out a hiss of anger. "You summoned the snake, didn't you?"

He raised both brows in mock surprise. "Me?" His eyes drifted to the empty chair – the one he'd not been invited to sit in. "Is it not more likely that your friend, the delightful Dearborn, summoned them whilst you were duelling together?"

"Caradoc is terrified of snakes."

Tom's eyes gleamed. There was a lot he could do with that information. Dearborn would rue the day he'd arrived at Hogwarts and stepped in Tom's path.

"I know it was you. Don't try going for denial."

"Dearborn is not to be trusted."

"Neither are you!" Too angry to stay in bed, Buffy threw back the covers.

Tom noticed her nightshirt had ridden up her thighs and even when she stood the shirt was so short that the hem barely skimmed her knees. He swallowed, as charged particles of her magic swirled in the air, tickling his skin and sending his heart beating wildly. That nightshirt was bordering on indecent. He could almost see right through it. Was she wearing underwear? It didn't look like it. Think! What did 'Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches' instruct a Wizard to do in situations like this? 'May I bring your cloak to ward off the night air' or 'You have roses blooming in your cheeks' were the only ones he could remember and neither seemed to fit.

"No one threatens my cousin," Buffy growled. "If they do, they will face my wrath." When Tom didn't reply, she prodded him in the chest with a finger to get his attention. "Hey, my face is up here, Snake-boy!"

"What?" He jerked his eyes away from her chest and met her furious eyes. Discombobulated, it took him several seconds to work out what she'd said.

"I have never, ever, threatened your cousin!" he spluttered annoyed at being accused of something he hadn't done. "Ask him yourself! I barely cast a spell at him during the duel. I didn't need to, he kept dropping his wand."

The boy was insignificant; a small life fluttering at the very edge of his vision. Buffy on the other hand was the opposite, filling the room with her presence without having to utter a single word. He wondered again, was she part Veela? There'd been a part Veela in Ravenclaw who'd graduated last year, but even she hadn't affected him this strongly. If Buffy was a fire, he'd be tempted to dive straight into her flames. No doubt he'd burn. Or would he rise from the ashes, renewed and reborn like a phoenix?

Buffy clicked her tongue at him, drawing attention to her mouth. "The snakes, Tom. You summoned snakes when fighting Lovell." Her eyes went round. "Oh! They weren't meant for him, they were meant for me!"

Hurt in her eyes. Hurt as sharp as razors. He swallowed, tongue-tied.

"You must really hate me –."

"I don't!" he blustered, shaking his head. The only thing he hated was the way she believed that he'd try to hurt her.

"You don't want me as your enemy," Buffy whispered.

A threat? Incredulous, he looked down at the tiny, barefoot Witch.

"Why?" he sneered, cold anger in his eyes and a curl of contempt on his lips. "Because of Dearborn? Don't count on him being your champion. I saw how he ran when the snakes appeared. He's nothing more than a coward and a loser."

"He apologised. Which is more than you have."

Shadows moved in the depths of Buffy's eyes. Tom frowned, his mind flooded with a sense of unease, of ancient spells and mind-numbing power. Had she been dabbling in Dark magic? Tom shook his head. She couldn't have. He'd known Buffy before she'd discovered she was a Witch and the Lovegoods were not a Dark family.

Buffy closed the gap – stepping right into his personal space. She tilted her face to his and glared, trying to look intimidating. Which she sort of was, and it gave him the sudden urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her so hard that she forgot she was in Hogwarts.

"I don't need Dearborn's or anyone else's help when it comes to fighting," Buffy snarled, "I'm big enough..."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Stop looking at me like that! I am big enough, and... and I'm mean enough, to take care of myself."

His battle was not with her. It was against the one trying to take her from him. He'd need to think of a way of dealing with Dearborn. It would need a light touch, if he was too heavy-handed it might achieve the opposite of what he wanted. With that in mind, Tom backed away and then turned his back on her. Let her think that he didn't care about her or Dearborn.

Keeping his voice light, he called across his shoulder as he moved away, "Of course, you're big enough. You have the biggest arse in Slytherin!"

"What?! Hey! Don't say that to me then walk away! Tom! Stop! Come back here!" When he didn't, Buffy let out a shriek of frustration.

The air changed, his magic warned and he sidestepped. An unbreakable water jug sailed past, hit the wall, bounced off and then rolled across the floor. The noise brought an irate Madame Bones out of her office like a woman possessed.

"MISS SUMMERS!" Her shout echoed around the infirmary, bouncing off the ceilings and the walls. "Never, in all my days, have I seen such disgraceful and unladylike behaviour! And what are you doing out of bed wearing nothing but a thin night-rail? You'll catch your death! Back into bed with you, this instant."

Ignoring Tom, who'd made a beeline for the door, Madame Bones strode over to Buffy's bed. As Tom closed the door, he heard her saying, "If I see you out of that bed again, Miss Summers, I shall set a ward around it!"

…..

author's note!

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. Appreciated!

Caradoc is being more pro-active with his pursuit of Buffy. He has his own agenda – the clues are there if you search for them.

Tom isn't happy. When is he? LoL.

If you enjoyed this why not try my friend's Toffy fanfic?

'Out of Time' by Spirit of The Night Owl …

Out of Time: 1942 Chapter 1: C1 - Prologue, a Buffy: The Vampire Slayer + Harry Potter Crossover fanfic | FanFiction