A/N;
Thanks for all the reviews!
Hearteyesmf – here is the reveal!
Guest – I had to set up slow to make this believable. And, that's just the way I roll. Hope you enjoy the reveal.
SpiritoftheNightOwl – yep, reincarnation. As Dumbledore says death is the next great adventure...
Loricfool – reveal coming up.
Guest – Dumbledore wasn't surprised by the accidental magic. Buffy has only recently come into her magic and... well, read on. ;-)
Guest – the truth is here!
Sorry if I missed anyone off. If you are silently reading and not leaving me a comment, don't be so shy! Just say hi!
…...
The Secrets of Dumbledore
"Ah, the delightful Joyce Summers!" Headmaster Dippet bellowed, entering the infirmary with another man. "I see that you and your daughter have been reunited." He took in the two blonde women sitting on the couch together. "I must say, you make a very pretty picture sitting together on the..." he raised an eyebrow and cast a knowing look at Dumbledore, "...Gryffindor sofa."
Buffy, her mind still reeling from the conversation she'd been in the midst of, blinked owlishly at him. A large sparkly star hung off the tip of the headmaster's hat, and he'd woven silver charms into his snow-white beard. Her gaze caught on a tiny moon charm sparkling in the afternoon sunshine.
She'd heard her father's voice but had no idea what he looked like. Did her mom have a photo? Would he wear charms threaded into his beard, or would he be clean-shaven? Was he blonde or dark? Her eyes moved back to her mother, taking in her familiar profile. What sort of guy did her mom go for? Handsome? Enigmatic? Powerful? Or would he be a long-standing friend that she'd sought comfort with?
Joyce greeted the Headmaster and turned her head to give Professor Dumbledore – who'd moved to stand behind their sofa – a hard, questioning look. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. "Headmaster, I do believe that we spoke at length about Mrs Summers spending private time with her daughter this afternoon?"
"Indeed you did, and so they shall." Dippet smiled happily at their group. "However, I was telling my old friend..."
Buffy's attention moved from Dippet to the short, portly man at his side. Loud, was her first thought on checking out his appearance. He wore a bright, yellow and black striped waistcoat, a garishly checked tweed suit and a tiny bowler hat perched on the crown of his head. He looked like a plump hornet. Who was he? And why was he eyeing her? Kinda creepy.
Dippet continued, "... about our intrepid American transfer student and he is buzzing to meet her. Buffy, this is Peter Skeeter. You will doubtless know his name. He's the Daily Prophet's most renown journalist."
Behind her, Dumbledore inhaled sharply and her mother stiffened. Buffy's eyes narrowed.
"This is not gonna be good," she said under her breath. Journalists were nosy. They pried and poked and asked too many questions. She had too many secrets to hide and apparently so had her mom and her Transfiguration professor...
Peter Skeeter greeted them by saluting them by whipping off his hat – revealing a large, shiny bald patch. He dimpled at them all in a practised way, chuckling at his introduction. "Mrs Summers, Professor Dumbledore and the legendary Buffy. Good to meet you all."
Pulling a fat notepad from his pocket, he opened it to a blank page and removed a vibrant green quill from his pocket. Skeeter sucked on the quill's nib before releasing it. Immediately it hovered over the blank page, poised to take notes.
"Armando has told me all about you. Mrs Summers, mind if I ask your daughter a few questions?" Without any help from Skeeter, the green quill began writing along the paper.
"What sort of questions?" Joyce asked, her eyes darting between Skeeter and the quill.
"Oh, nothing of a personal nature," he assured her. "Just the general stuff. How Buffy is settling into Hogwarts, what she thinks of the curriculum and how easy it's been for her to make friends? That sort of thing." His smile grew smarmier as Joyce hesitated. " It's for the readers, you see. Engrossed they'll be, when they get to read Buffy's story...
Joyce looked worried. "What do you mean?" She looked as if she'd prefer to send him away than let him question her daughter, but she didn't want to offend the Headmaster and lose her welcome.
Buffy stirred restlessly. Instinct telling her that this wasn't going to end well. No good came of a journalist interviewing an undercover Slayer. She had to be careful, if she wasn't she might slip up and blow her cover. Skeeter's eyes were glittering. Was he scenting a bigger story? Buffy hoped not.
"We all know how unusual it is for magic to appear beyond eleven," said Skeeter reasonably. "You are a Squib; you must have hoped one day you'd wake up and have magic. And... well, you know how it is with the Purebloods, a ray of hope Buffy's story would give them. You wouldn't deny them that, would you?"
"There's nothing wrong with being a Squib or a Muggle," Buffy said more sharply than she intended. Magic was fun to have, but you could exist without it. Wizards had magic and Muggles had science – it all balanced out in the end.
Skeeter tilted his head, eyes needle-like at her comment. The green quill whizzed along the page alongside him. "Of course not, " he replied in a voice that implied she was stupid if she believed it. "It's just that life isn't easy for Squibs from Pureblood families."
Joyce inclined her head, and Buffy remembered that some Squibs were sent away out of shame. Skeeter's green quill moved along the page, taking note after note. "Buffy, your magic awakened after being attacked by Von Kendrick. Can you tell me about it?"
"I don't remember any of it. I woke up in a Muggle hospital with amnesia. I was told by the Aurors later that he'd gotten into a fight with them. Guess we were in the wrong store at the wrong time." Buffy shared a look with her mom, wondering again if the identity of her father had something to do with the attack.
"And that goes for both of you?" Skeeter asked, looking at Joyce.
Joyce nodded. "I don't remember anything about the attack. I just remember going into the department store."
"How convenient..." Skeeter muttered under his breath – Buffy's Slayer hearing easily picking up the words.
Did this guy know something? Or was he just digging?
"How sad for you." Skeeter looked anything but sad. "How did you feel, Buffy, when you discovered you were a Witch? That must have been wonderful! And an opportunity to study at Hogwarts at your age."
"At my age? Gee, thanks," Buffy drawled. "I'm only fifteen."
The quill wrote faster and faster. Buffy scowled at it. She'd been watching it and it seemed to be writing a lot of words. Pointing her finger, she asked, "What's that quill writing?"
"Ignore it," Skeeter said a little too quickly. "It's only a Quick Quote Quill. It makes my job a whole lot easier." He swivelled, focussing his attention on her mother. "How did you feel on discovering your daughter was a Witch, Mrs Summers?"
"Shocked," admitted Joyce.
"Ah, yes." The quill wrote faster. "Was it easier when Buffy was a Muggle?"
Joyce tensed. "What do you mean by that?"
The quill stopped writing and Peter Skeeter stared over at Joyce. "With you cutting all ties to your magical family and choosing to live amongst Muggles. It would have been easier if Buffy had stayed without magic, surely?"
"Oh... Oh yes." Her mom nodded. "It was easier. And being a student at Hogwarts has its dangers."
Both the Headmaster and Dumbledore shuffled uncomfortably. It wasn't really fair that they were being blamed for the way she was always getting into trouble. She wasn't simply a Witch, she was a Slayer and Slayers drew trouble to them. It was a... Slayer thing. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud.
"Buffy, you've caused quite a stir amongst your fellow students whilst you've been here. Why is that?"
"I have? I guess it's because I'm so new and shiny?" She didn't have time for these questions. She wanted him to leave so she could find out who her father was. She gave Skeeter a wide and slightly insane smile. "They are so sweet. Everyones' been just so friendly and –. "
"You're a Slytherin," interrupted Skeeter brusquely. "Not a Hufflepuff."
"Oh, the Slytherin boys are way cuter than boy's from the other Houses. I think it's the green and silver. They make – ."
He cut her off again. "You saved a boy from drowning on your first day here. Why aren't you a Gryffindor?"
"I didn't like the colours."
"You fought off the lake Grindylows. How?" The green quill quivered over the paper, poised to write her reply.
"Are they the little seaweed people?" Buffy screwed up her face. "The fish-tail people drove them away. I was injured."
"How badly?"
"I broke a nail when I fell from the boat."
"You were later attacked by Dementors?" asked Skeeter. "What happened?"
"I ran into it in the fog." Buffy made a distasteful expression. "It got tangled up on my broom and I fainted with shock."
"Is it true... one tried to suck out your soul when the Ministry came here to remove it?"
Crap! She did not want to talk about staking Dementors! This guy was a total pain in the ass! Why had Dippy even brought–. Suddenly, the hairs rose on the back of Buffy's neck. Every one of her Slayer senses tingling in awareness.
"Mr Skeeter?" a man's voice called from the doorway. The door to the infirmary had been cracked open an inch or two and Buffy glimpsed a pale face in the darkness beyond. "You've forgotten to cover the windows!"
The window shutter above Buffy slammed shut, startling her. All along the wall, more shutters closed as Skeeter pointed his wand at them, murmuring the charm for closure.
"What is going on here?" Dumbledore exclaimed, sounding almost as apprehensive as she felt. "Closing the shutters? Headmaster, this is most irreg– ! Buffy!"
Buffy ignored him. She'd leapt from her seat and was charging across the room to intercept the creature coming through the door. It stopped, gaping at her, and Buffy took advantage of its surprise by throwing an uppercut, hitting him in the jaw and sending him staggering. The vampire fell, his skull striking the door jamb with an audible crack, his hands clutching at an expensive camera, determined not to let it fall. Buffy pulled out her wand, ready to release something hot and fiery in his direction.
Before she could find the right incantation the shout, 'Mobilicorpus!' came from behind her and she was hoisted – feet first – into the air. Her nightshirt fell down covering her head, giving everyone a rotating view of oyster-pink underwear. With a mortified shriek, she tugged at her nightshirt, pushing it upwards while trying to see where the vampire had gone to. She spotted him, hiding behind his camera. There was a sudden flash that almost blinded her.
"Hey!" yelped Buffy. "No pictures!"
"How dare you photograph my daughter like that!" yelled Joyce springing up to rush to her daughter.
"Sanguini!" Skeeter snapped. "Behave yourself! No inappropriate photos."
Buffy struggled against the invisible bonds. "When I get down, I swear I'm gonna take that camera off you and ram it right up–."
"Buffy!" her mom admonished, grabbing her shoulders to stop her spinning. "Can you let her down now, Albus?"
"Certainly." Dumbledore came over and placed himself between the girl and the journalist. Quietly, so that only she could hear him, he murmured, "Annoying they may be, but I do recommend refraining from violence around Skeeter and Sanguini. Skeeter especially has a strong dislike for the Muggleborn and he seeks only the slightest excuse to destroy your credibility in the popular press."
"It's the vampire," Buffy muttered, sullenly. "He leered at Mom's neck."
"He may be a vampire, but I promise Señor Sanguini won't hurt either you or your mother. Put your wand away in, where was it? Oh, your thigh holster. That's it. Don't draw it again."
Louder, so the others could hear, he called out, "I shall reverse the spell now, Miss Summers. Get ready."
The invisible ropes vanished, and Buffy tumbled, twisting at the last moment to land gracefully on her feet. She felt Dumbledore's assessing gaze on her, saw the worry in her mom's face and gave both a small nod of reassurance. 'A Ministry vampire,'she told herself. 'Not to be slain.' She hadn't meant to attack him. It had been the look he'd given her mom that made her lose control.
"Buffy is a rather overwrought after her ordeal yesterday," Dumbledore said apologetically to everyone in the room.
"Yeah, I think I have PTSD," added Buffy. "Post Traumatic Snake Disorder."
Dumbledore gave her a withering look. "Miss Summers has faced more than her fair share of danger since arriving at Hogwarts. I believe that is why she reacted so strongly to a perceived danger."
"Plus, we haven't covered how to deal with leering vampires in DADA yet," Buffy threw in for good measure.
Her mom tutted softly in reproach. She took her hand and said, "Do excuse her behaviour. My daughter is such a sweet and gentle girl normally. She really wouldn't hurt a fly." And she squeezed Buffy's hand – hard – warning her not to let her down.
Buffy nodded, barely able to look at the camera wielding vampire.
"I am sure she is just lovely," the vampire drawled, and when he smiled, Buffy glimpsed the tips of his fangs.
Was he trying to intimidate her? The Slayer in her was instantly affronted. Annoyed, Buffy opened her mouth to make a withering comment about his over-loud stripey suit and his widow's peak hairstyle. Her mom gave her hand another squeeze – a sign to play nice. It was probably for the best, Buffy thought; already she'd almost outed herself as the Slayer. Better to play the dumb blonde role again.
"It was that Dracula movie. You know the one, with Bela Lugosi? No? You haven't seen it? Anyhow, you reminded me of him when you came through the door. It's the way you style your hair." She shuffled her bare feet on the floor, doing her best to look small and vulnerable, and not a vampire serial killer. "I'm sorry for punching you."
The vampire laughed. "Don't worry, my little one. We vampires are very, very strong." The smile became feral. "A tiny thing like yourself could never hurt me."
Wanna bet? She didn't dare look him in the eye; the Slayer inside her was bristling with indignation.
"And you'll destroy that photograph that you took of my daughter?" Joyce asked sharply. "If I find out it's been printed or circulated in any way, I'll –."
Sanguini smiled at her mom. "There is no way it can be destroyed without ruining the entire film until I am in complete darkness. However, you have my word that it shall be destroyed. But I should like to take another."
Joyce spluttered indignantly.
The vampire held up a long, thin, elegant finger. "Fully dressed in her Hogwarts uniform, of course. I would not request anything else."
Turning her back on him, Buffy moved away, curious about what was being written in the notepad. She glimpsed, 'unprovoked violence' 'Muggleborn fear' and 'poor education' before the writing become illegible.
Peter Skeeter wagged a finger at her. "Naughty, naughty! I know how desperate you must be to see your name in print, but you'll just need to read it along with everyone else. It's more fun that way."
"More fun for who?"
Peter Skeeter just smirked at her. "I have a few more questions..."
"I don't want to answer them. I don't feel well." She should have thought about claiming ill-health before. She felt like kicking herself.
"You do look a little flushed," Dumbledore agreed amiably. "Headmaster, I am sure that you will agree that our priority lies not with the popular press but with our students. Miss Summers needs rest."
"Oh, indeed, indeed," cried Dippet, who was beginning to think this meeting had been a bad idea. "We can't afford to let the poor girl become ill again. Come along, Peter. You really don't want to face the wrath of our nurse, Madam Bones. You haven't met her, have you? Stay for dinner, I'll introduce you..."
Dumbledore put his hand on Buffy's shoulder, steering her away from Skeeter, her mother keeping pace on her other side. Buffy looked back over her shoulder. The headmaster was already at the door with Skeeter. Sanguini hadn't moved. He stood, with that thoughtful stillness that vampires often had before hunting and, when he felt her gaze on him, he met her eye and smiled, showing the tips of his fangs again before whirling away to catch up with the others.
"Do you think he knows?" Joyce asked Dumbledore as they headed for Buffy's bed.
Buffy almost tripped, her heart missing a beat. Forcing her feet to keep moving she looked from her mom to her professor. Know? What did he 'know'? Did her mom and Dumbledore know all along that she was The Slayer and they hadn't said anything?
Dumbledore shook his head. "No. The Prophet contacted Armando a while back asking if they could run the Dementor story."
"How did they know?" asked Joyce.
Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I suspect they'd gotten wind of it via a parent. It was hardly a secret amongst the staff or the students, and letters are sent home every day. Anyhow, the Ministry blocked the story from being run. Possibly they were concerned that publishing the story would adversely affect their investigations. Once they'd decided that the Dementors had not attacked the school at the behest of–."
"An evil overlord," supplied Buffy as they arrived at her bed.
"Hmm, yes, quite," Dumbledore agreed. "My guess is that the newspaper once more asked for an interview. Then they sent Peter Skeeter and his–."
"Friend the leech," Buffy finished.
Both Dumbledore and her mom gave her a stern look.
"What?" Buffy spluttered. "He's a vampire. A blood sucking fiend. I didn't like him." She didn't like the way he'd kept eyeing her mom. She wasn't sure if he'd wanted to ask her out on a date or seeking liquid refreshment. Dropping down on her bed, her legs dangling over the edge, she looked up at her professor and mother.
Dumbledore tutted. "Señor Sanguini is hardly a fiend!" His voice stern with admonishment. "It isn't his fault that he was captured and turned at the end of the last century."
"True, but he's still dead and... soulless," Buffy replied uncertainly.
"Certainly not soulless, although there are some vampires that are..."
That sharpened her interest. "Which vampires?"
"Not the kind that you'll ever meet socially," Dumbledore said sternly, in a voice that closed the subject. "Joyce, had you revealed the identity of Buffy's father before being interrupted?" He looked down at Joyce – who'd taken the visitor's chair – and then over to Buffy.
Joyce sighed. "No. I didn't have time."
Buffy frowned. "Have you met my father?"
Dumbledore looked pained. "I knew him once. Long ago. When he was only a little older than yourself we spent some time together."
Buffy chewed at her thumbnail where she'd chipped it. Dumbledore knew her father. Dumbledore was ancient. Only half joking she asked, "Is my dad the dead guy who teaches History of Magic?"
Dumbledore bit back laughter. "I'm not sure that I want to know how you came to that conclusion."
"So...Who's the lucky man who begot me?"
The professor winced, shot a look at Joyce, saying, "I shall just go over there... to open the shutters," and hurried off.
Buffy stopped chewing at the broken nail and sat on her hands in case she got the urge to nail bite again. Bad news didn't mean bitten fingernails. She had standards of hygiene, and really, how bad could this be? "Mum, I was joking, My dad isn't really Professor Binns, is he?"
Joyce let out a bark of dry laughter. "I don't know who Professor Binns is, but you might wish he was after I've told you his name."
Buffy groaned. "He sounds... like the kind of guy every kid wants as a dad."
Opening her purse, Joyce took out a lace-edged handkerchief. "Buffy, he... isn't all bad."
"That's reassuring to know," said Buffy. Why did her mom sound so doubtful?
"Hush, let me explain. Um, where was I, before we got interrupted?"
"You and Hank had argued."
Joyce looked down at her handkerchief. "Oh, I remember now. I thought Hank had gone for good. I was upset and angry, not caring where I went and... I walked all afternoon and ended the day sitting at a table outside a small cafe by the Seine. That's when I saw him."
"My dad?"
Joyce shook her head. "No, Bracius Lestrange." At Buffy's blank look, she added, "Marcus' father."
"The Minister guy?"
"Hmm. Back then, I don't think he was even employed by the Ministry. When he recognised me, he came to sit at my table. He told me he was on honeymoon and his wife was back at the hotel..."
Joyce crushed the hankie between her fingers. "I'd always liked Bracius. The Lestranges have a bad reputation, so be wary around them, Buffy. Bracius he... isn't like them. He always had time to speak to me whenever I bumped into him and asked Peregrine how I was whenever he saw him."
Buffy frowned, shifting uncomfortably at the thought of her mom having lust bunnies over Marcus's dad.
Joyce must have read her face. "Not how you're thinking! I've told you before how it is being a Squib when everyone around you has magic. I felt... left out. Bracius never treated me any differently and he was kind."
"So... Lestrange rocks up at the cafe?"
Joyce nodded. "He ordered a coffee and we talked. Not of Hank or what I thought was my broken engagement. We talked of art. Then he suggested I go back to the hotel, meet his wife and go to the meeting with them. He said there was a speaker there that I'd find interesting. I didn't realise it was Grindelwald or everyone there would be a supporter until later."
Buffy frowned. "Was this the one at the Lestrange cemetery? The one where he killed a lot of people who didn't support him?" She didn't like the thought of her mom being there.
Joyce shook her head. "No, not that one. Gellert..."
Buffy noticed the use of the Dark Wizard's first name but said nothing.
Joyce put the handkerchief back into her bag, snapped it shut and placed it by her feet. "Gellert Grindelwald is a... phenomenal speaker. I'd never seen or heard anyone speak so passionately about anything before. The way he talks... it makes you feel what he feels, and you can really see his vision of the future. Before you realise, you're wanting to be a part of that future."
Buffy wasn't sure what to say. Grindelwald had never been on her radar – it wasn't as if he was a demon from a hell dimension – so she'd never bothered researching him. All she knew of him was what others had told her. That he'd used the dream of their magical community living out in the open and changed it to one where the magical took over the world. Okay, he claimed he didn't hate Muggles, but Buffy knew that actions always spoke louder than words.
"Do you support Grindelwald?" she asked, wondering how a Squib would fit into Grindelwald's world.
"No!"
Buffy let out a relieved breath.
Joyce's lips folded in a tight line. "I was just overwhelmed."
"Is this where you met my dad? Is he a supporter of Grindelwald?" Buffy asked.
"No! Yes! Sort of!"
"Mom! Which is it? Is he a Grindelwald supporter or not?"
"It's...I suppose he is. It's Gellert Grindelwald! Grindelwald is your father!"
The pronouncement was met by stunned silence. Over on the far side of the room, Dumbledore's shoulders rose and he'd tensed. He didn't turn towards the women, he stayed facing the wall. Buffy didn't blame him. She'd rather stare at a section of a blank wall than deal with Gellert Grindelwald as a father.
Holy Crap! Her dad really was a Dark Wizard with a capital 'D'. She'd heard some stories and his ambition knew no bounds...
Ambition... Is that why she'd been sorted into Slytherin? Because she had some of his genes in her? Had it sensed his... craziness. Oh, crap! The Lovegoods were considered an eccentric family. What if the kids at school found out that she had a fruitloop for a father? Professor Trelawney was right. Boys – and girls – would turn their faces from her. She'd be a social pariah. Or... the darling of a certain group.
"Mom? How did..? Why did you..?" She found that she couldn't finish the question.
Joyce Summers looked surprised. "You're taking this better than I thought."
What did she expect her to do? Stomp off and sulk? There was a time when she might have done so, but now she had all those memories of loving men who should have been out of bounds, she knew that love and life was not simple. "I just need to know why you and he..."
"After the rally I went with Bracius and his wife to the reception where Grindelwald was. I jumped at the chance to see him up close. He... fascinated me."
"Must be his eyes." Buffy bit her lip, instantly regretting the snark. Her mom was trying to explain.
Luckily, her mom hadn't heard. Joyce's eyes had become misted, looking inward to memories that Buffy couldn't see. "The party was as strange and colourful as only magical parties can be. Exotic blooms filled the air with heady scents, music played and there was laughter, dancing and wine..." She shook her head. "I knew I was drinking too much and didn't care." Her eyes refocused on Buffy. "I've never drank like that since."
Buffy nodded, though she had no memories of her mom's drinking habits. Those memories had gone and she'd no idea if they'd ever return.
"Later, I found out that someone had added something to the drinks that were served. At least, that's what Bracius told me because..." Once again she shook her head, frustrated. "I'm getting ahead of myself again. I drank. Lots of people drank. Towards the end of the evening, Bracius finally introduced me to Gellert. He's a handsome man, and even more so when in formal dinner attire and surrounded by adoring fans."
"Fans," repeated Buffy to herself. "Guy's hardly a rock star. Unless fan is short for fanatics."
Her mom went on, "He saw me. Even before Bracius introduced us, he saw me and his eyes lit up when he saw my face. It was as if we'd met before and I felt, at that moment, as if he could see my soul. Bracius was surprised as I when he took my hand and drew me close to him, speaking to us all yet keeping me by him. It felt strange, as if I was stepping into another world, and just being near him was... overwhelming. Then he invited me to his rooms... to continue our conversation."
"Lethal," murmured Buffy. And this conversation was making her feel all kinds of icky. "Alcohol and a private room."
Joyce nodded. "Never make my mistake."
"Mistake," Buffy repeated, not sure how she felt about that. It was sad to think she was a mistake, even though a lot of kids were and it didn't make them any different from the kids who weren't.
Her mom touched her cheek, stroking it gently. "Oh, Honey, you've always been the best thing that's happened to me. Never think any differently."
Buffy nodded. "So," she said, trying to be upbeat. "You had an affair with Gertie Grindelwald?"
"I wouldn't say that it was an affair," hedged Joyce.
"A single night of passion between the sheets?"
"I wouldn't go that far"
"Mom!" Buffy froze – shocked. "I'm the result of a quickie in his room?"
Joyce ducked her head. "We never got as far as his room. It happened in the elevator."
Buffy's jaw dropped. "In the elevator? You had ELEVATOR SEX WITH GELLERT GRINDELWALD?!"
Dumbledore caught his toe on the leg of a bed and stumbled. Buffy knew how he felt. It was as if someone had pulled the ground from under her feet. Her mom went in for elevator sex with Dark Wizards? "Pinch me. Tell me I'm dreaming."
Joyce leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind Buffy's ear. "I'm sorry, darling. It's true. The necklace you wear that you found in my vault – the Deathly Hallows pendent – he gave it to me... afterwards. He said he'd seen it would bring me luck. He was right: I had you."
Buffy grimaced. She liked that necklace. Now she'd need to disinfect it.
"Bracius thinks something was added to the wine that night. His wife conceived and so did three other couples that he knows of who were drinking there. He thinks it was probably someone's idea of a joke."
"Great, I'm the result of a Lust Potion joke." In a show of theatrics (she didn't care!) Buffy slumped back and threw her arm across her face. If she hadn't thought being an illegal Slayer in this dimension was enough to deal with, now life had thrown her this! "Band Candy all over again," she muttered, a vague memory from her previous life surfacing.
"We don't know that for sure," Joyce moved over to sit next to her on the bed. "Honey, even if you were a result of a... Fertility Potion, it wouldn't make any difference."
"Hmm." It wouldn't. She wouldn't let it or her father's identity change her.
Joyce went on, "Anyway... I returned home and, what do you know, Hank rolls up a day or so later. We made up and a few weeks later I realised I was pregnant. I didn't even think of Gellert at first. Hank and I got married, you were born, and everything was fine for a few months. Then I visited Peregrine and saw the money in my Gringotts account..."
Buffy sat up and looked at her mom. "Grindelwald?"
Joyce nodded.
"How did he know about me?"
Joyce shrugged. "Some people have family trees."
"Like the one at the Blacks?"
"Yes, like that. Some show all descendents, not just the legitimate heirs. So I knew then that you must be Gellert's and not Hank's."
Buffy took her mom's hand. "Awkward."
Her mom squeezed her hand. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't say anything to Hank. He didn't know that I'd... I did love him. Don't think I didn't... And I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to forget about all about Gellert. Then, I reasoned Gellert wouldn't want you if you had no magic, and since I was a Squib there was a strong chance you wouldn't have. I put the money down to him paying me off."
"What happened?" Buffy asked.
"I found a toy pig floating over your crib. Peregrine had just visited and I wondered if he'd left it there as a joke, but then it happened again and I realised that you had magic – strong magic."
Joyce's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Honey, I panicked. I panicked so much. I knew he'd never let a Squib raise a daughter of his. The Grindelwald's, they were such a powerful family; Purebloods and cruel, and haughty with it. You've seen Arcturus Black... They were far worse than him. I knew Gellert was in prison by then and so I had a little time. I hatched a plan. It's not something I'm proud of."
Buffy knew what it was. "You bound my magic?" She'd known, deep down she'd known that her mother had something to do with it. A Dark Wizard hadn't kidnapped her and stolen her magic when she was a baby – it had been her mother.
Joyce's eyes widened. "How..? Oh..." She looked down, unable to meet her daughter's eye. "The healers saw signs of the old spell, didn't they?"
Buffy nodded; it had been Madam Bones who'd told her – not the healers – but she didn't think it mattered. "Who bound my magic?" Should she feel so angry? Her mother had been terrified of losing her, and had done it for the very best of reasons. For the greater good... No, not for the greater good, for her good. A power-hungry Wizard like Grindelwald would not be a good father.
"Was it Uncle Peregrine who bound my magic?" she asked. She couldn't see it being him, but it had to be someone her mom trusted. Someone so loyal that they didn't care about crossing Grindelwald.
Tears were on Joyce's cheeks "No, I hadn't told Peregrine about your father back then. He thought it was Hank. Even now, he doesn't know that you had your magic bound."
"Who, then?" Buffy felt angry. "Who bound my magic? Who took it away from me?"
"It was I," said Dumbledore. "I was the one who stole your magic. A decision that I very much regret."
