23. Who IS Grindelwald?

Fourth floor – spell damage, hexes, curses, and jinxes,

"We're here," Buffy said as she rounded the corner of the stairwell. She looked back, over her shoulder, to where Peregrine and Lovell were climbing the stairs behind her.

Her eyes automatically went to her uncle's bird hat which opened its beak and silently squawked at her. Over dinner, she'd been elated when Peregrine had announced he would change his hat. She'd foolishly hoped that the bird hat was going to be banished for good, but it seemed her uncle had other ideas. He'd taken out his wand and transformed the black bird into a blue one and then changed the hat's colour to bright yellow. Buffy privately thought it looked even worse than before. Peregrine, however, had been pleased. He'd said that yellow was a 'nice, cheery' colour and that seeing his hat was bound to make Joyce feel better.

"Yes, here we are," agreed Peregrine, tersely.

Buffy looked over, to see him regarding the sign with disfavour. "Have you been here before, Uncle?"

"I may have, once or twice," he admitted reluctantly. "I had a nasty case of a hand growing out the top of my head once."

That took her a few seconds to process. "Er, sounds nasty," she said trying to sound sympathetic and not disbelieving. "Did they cut it off?"

"It took a few weeks before the hand shrunk enough for me to leave," Peregrine continued embarrassed. Buffy wasn't surprised, no wonder he'd started wearing hats.

Lovell laughed. "Dad, is this the hex that Professor McGonagall cast after you jinxed her cat?"

"It might have been." Peregrine's kept his face neutral. "I gave it an extra tail after it devoured my pet rat."

Buffy nodded absently, her attention was on the doors in front of them. Her Mom's ward was on this floor. Already she was reaching out with her senses. Her acute Slayer hearing was picking up the chatter of visitors and patients and, from a treatment room close by, the louder voice of a healer explaining the dosage of a blood replenishing potion.

"Do you think they can cure Mom?" she asked. Her worst fear was that the magical healers would say curing her Mom was beyond them, and that she was going to die. The fear had her frozen, unable to open the doors and leave the stairwell.

Peregrine placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I believe so," he said softly. "You mustn't worry. The healers here have seen near enough everything over the years. They'll soon have her better."

He pushed open the doors and Buffy followed him into a wide corridor that had several doors leading off it. A healer in a green uniform and carrying a tray of potions pushed open the door furthest away from them and entered one of the wards. They were about to follow her when the elevator doors opened with a soft swish, and a stocky young man stepped out.

The man did a double-take when he spotted Buffy and her family. Quickening his pace, he hurried over to them. "Miss Summers!"

The man removed his hat, revealing his wavy sandy coloured hair. "You probably don't remember me," he began.

"You're Alastor Moody. You questioned me at the orphanage," Buffy replied, she glanced at the ward doors and back at the young Auror. From what her uncle had told her, it was Alastor Moody who'd sent the owl alerting him that she and her mum had been in an accident. If it wasn't for his kindness, she might never have found her family. She could delay her visit by a few minutes

Holding out her hand, she gave him a mega-watt smile. "I wanna thank you for what you did," she said shaking his hand. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be in the orphanage." She turned, introducing him to her uncle. "Uncle, this is the Auror who contacted you, Alastor Moody."

After they had greeted each other, Alastor asked about her mother.

"We're here visiting her," Buffy explained. She looked the young man up and down. He wore a long brown trenchcoat over a dragonhide leather jacket, dark trousers, and business-like boots. "Are you here being treated or are you visiting?"

Alastor rubbed his shoulder, ruefully. "I got hit by a Stinging Jinx that wouldn't stop stinging. While I was here, I thought I'd visit a friend who got hit by a nasty blood boil hex-"

"OUCH!" said Buffy and Lovell simultaneously.

Moody grinned, pushing the ward doors open. "It was his own fault for not checking the door before he walked in. You need constant vigilance to be in this job. Luckily for him, it only hit his arm, our field-healer managed to nullify the spell with a blood cooling charm, and we brought him straight here." He grinned even wider, revelling in the danger. "Ah, the joys of being an Auror when every dark wizard fancies himself as Grindelwald."

He pushed open the doors to the ward for her and as she walked in, Buffy realised that it was arranged similarly to other hospital wards she'd been in. A row of beds, most of them empty, were placed on either side of the room. Over by one of the windows, a medi-witch sat at a desk reading medical reports. Buffy stood on tip-toe, craning her neck, and looking for her Mom. Finally, she spotted her at the very bottom of the ward.

"Who's that guy with Mom?" Joyce Summers was sat up in bed, smiling at a handsome man in his thirties with dark auburn hair.

Peregrine frowned, squinting at the man. "Perhaps, he's one of the healers?"

It was Moody who identified the unknown man. Sucking in a deep breath, he barked, "Why, if it isn't Bracius Lestrange, the Minister for International Magical Law! I wonder what he's doing here?"

He straightened up, pushing his shoulders back, fastening his trench coat and running a finger under his collar. "Is my hair alright?" he asked Buffy. "There's nothing that looks like green goo in it?"

Buffy peered at it as he turned his head. "Uh, it's a bit matted at the back and there's something gooey stuck in there too."

Moody spat on his hands and rubbed them over his head. "Better?"

"Hmm, sort of," Buffy replied non-committally. "You know, combing would also work."

Moody just grinned at her, unabashed. "Never thought to bring a comb with me."

Peregrine slowed his steps. He looked uncertain. "Do you think we should wait until he's finished? I don't want to disturb a Ministry official performing his duty"

Moody stopped. "Lestrange is known for havin' a short temper. It might be a good idea if we -

"Nope," said Buffy, popping her 'p'. "It's not gonna happen. I don't care if he's the King of England. I'm not standing in line to see my Mom." With that, she took off at a fast pace down the centre of the room.

Moody hurried along behind her, huffing, "Buffy, slow down!"

Buffy ignored him, crazed demons wouldn't stop her now. As she got closer to her Mom's bed, the auburn-haired man looked up, and her mother turned. Joyce's face lighting up with joy when she saw her.

"Mom!" Buffy flung her arms around her. Holding herself against her mother in the hug that she'd needed ever since the accident. She closed her eyes, revelling in the softness of her Mom, the beat of her heart in her ear, and breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. After all those nightmares where she'd seen her Mom dead or dying, Buffy felt as though she'd come through the worst. She could cope with anything that life threw at her now she had her Mom back.

Pulling out of the embrace, Buffy asked, "How do you feel? What did the healers say? How long will you be in here? I'm so glad that you're awake!"

At the same time, Joyce asked, "Have the healers seen you, honey? What's this about you losing your memory?"

They smiled at each other, sharing a special mother and daughter moment.

"It's no big, Mom. You're more important." Buffy rolled her eyes. She'd had enough of doctors poking and prodding her and didn't wish to go through it again.

"You'll be able to ask the healers about me whilst they examine you," Joyce said slyly, knowing her daughter's dislike of doctors. "I'll ask them to fill me in later."

Buffy pouted, then sat back to scan her Mom's face anxiously, looking for signs of illness. The catatonic state had gone. Her Mom might be paler than usual with dark shadows beneath her eyes, but there was ore colour in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled with love and warmth.

Joyce reached out, cupping Buffy's face between both hands. "Honey, I'm so glad to see you looking well." Her eyes dropped to Buffy's dress and, schooling her face into a stern expression, said, "Hey, who's been sneaking into my wardrobe?" Only half-teasing, she added, "That dress is far too old for you."

"Mom!" Buffy whined. "I'm nearly sixteen!" She'd only worn the dress because her uncle had mentioned dressing up for the visit. Not wanting to look as though she hadn't made an effort, she'd chosen her Mom's silk dress and cinched it in at the waist with a belt so that it would fit. She stroked the soft fabric of the skirt. "I don't see what's wrong with it. I could understand if I'd gone Goth."

"Oh Buffy, I've no idea what Goth is." Joyce laughed, putting her arm around her and squeezing her.

As they shared another hug, Buffy noticed Lestrange and Moody watching them. Lestrange with a bemused expression and Moody looking uncomfortable, unsure whether he should stay and say hello to Mrs Summers or go.

"Mom, this is Alastor Moody. He's the one who found Uncle Peregrine and told him that we were in England." She smiled, motioning him over. "I've told him how grateful we are."

She slipped off the bed to allow Joyce to meet and greet the embarrassed Alastor. As she stepped back, giving them room, she found Lestrange had moved to her side to the bed.

"So you're Joyce's daughter," he drawled, cocking his head, his eyes roving over her face and figure. "I knew of your existence, of course. However, you are most unexpected."

"This is Mr Lestrange, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, Buffy," Joyce said, leaning back and catching sight of them together. "He found out I was in here and came to see if I'd remembered anything from the attack."

Joyce turned away to speak to Peregrine and Lestrange stepped closer to Buffy, his hand outstretched for her to shake. Before she had a chance to take it, Alastor Moody stepped between them. Surprised by the physical interruption, Buffy looked from the Auror to the Minister with confusion. Bracius Lestrange's polite expression had gone and in its place was a scowl of outrage. Moody's face was expressionless, his eyes watchful.

"Straying a little bit out of your usual territory, aren't you, Sir?" Although Moody kept both the question and his tone polite, his suspicion was almost tangible. "I've never heard of you visiting a victim's bedside before."

Bracius raised an imperious brow at the Auror and answered coldly, "And a 'little bit' out of your jurisdiction questioning my actions? You're an Auror, aren't you? What's your name again?"

"Auror Alastor Moody, Sir. We met at the Ministry's Yule Ball," Moody smiled blandly. "I was there with my wife."

Lestrange's dark eyes narrowed and glinted, his expression becoming smug. "I didn't know you were married, Moody? When did that happen? The whisper in the Auror Corps is that you're married to the job."

Moody relaxed - slightly. "Ah, there's no foolin' you, Sir. I'm sorry for testing you like that. I had to make sure it was you. You can't be too careful." He backed off, far enough to give Lestrange and Buffy some privacy, yet close enough to step back into the conversation.

Behind them, Buffy heard Lovell and Peregrine talking softly to Joyce completely unaware Moody had challenged Lestrange. Buffy half-turned, intending to go back to her mother's side when Lestrange placed a hand on her arm. She felt magic crackle around them, but if the man felt it, he gave no sign. He tugged gently, drawing her a few paces away from her mother's bedside.

"Should I steal you away from your mother, Buffy?"

Buffy snorted. "I'd like to see you try. I'm not going anywhere."

Lestrange gave her a tight smile. "Very well. A young girl's place is with her mother, and you can easily answer my questions about the attack here."

"Don't bother. I don't remember anything," Buffy replied cheerfully, happy to put an end to this conversation.

Lestrange's face darkened. Buffy bit her lip, feeling guilty. She supposed he was only doing his job and trying to find the man who'd hurt her and her Mom. "Look, I'm not trying to be obstructive. I have amnesia and don't remember much of my life before waking up under the rubble."

Lestrange's emerald eyes burned into hers. "Are you sure? Are you so very sure about that?"

Buffy's Slaydar prickled as the atmosphere became charged with magic. She sensed a push in her mind and realised that the Minister was attempting to read her thoughts. Instantly, the Slayer part of her stirred, angry at the attempted intrusion. Had he seen anything that he shouldn't have?

"I AM sure," she said, her voice hard and cold. "There's no need to try and rape my brain."

Taken aback, he gave her a small, stilted bow that hinted at either a military training or old-world manners. "Forgive me. Let me assure you that my intention was to simply access memories hidden due to your injuries. If you'd allow me to -."

"No," Buffy said firmly. The idea of giving anyone free rein to poke around inside her head made her shudder. There were all those memories of hunting demons in there. She definitely didn't want anyone seeing them. If they did, it might result in a long-term stay in a padded hospital room.

"Von Kendrick is a danger to you," continued Lestrange. "If we can find out why he wanted you..."

"You think it was Buffy that he came for then, Sir?" asked Moody. He'd sauntered back over, his eyes moving from Lestrange to Buffy, crease lines on his forehead. "I thought the Ministry believed the attack Buffy was in was made against Muggles, ordered by Grindelwald."

"Grindelwald?" Peregrine turned, tutting as he overheard the tail end of the conversation. "That man is nothing but trouble!"

Lestrange stiffened, glancing first to Peregrine then to where Joyce sat with her eyes downcast.

"Who IS Grindelwald?" Buffy asked. She kept hearing the name but so far no one had explained exactly who he was.

Lestrange let out a bark of laughter. "Ha! The girl asks an excellent question, and the one few can answer."

"Gellert Grindelwald is a dark wizard who's waging war on the established order," replied Moody. "The crux of it is, he wants to end the secrecy between the magical world and the Muggle one."

"And that's a problem, how?" Buffy asked.

"Last time it ended in witch hunts and burnings," explained Moody. "That's why the Statute was drawn up. Many think though the time has come to break international statute. That in doing so the magical and non-magical world will become stronger. Others, mainly Purebloods, although I'm one myself and don't think it, believe that those without magic are inferior and should be killed or enslaved. Grindelwald and his dark acolytes bring death to Wizards and Muggles alike."

"Crude, very crude," replied Lestrange, his full lips drawn back in a sneer. "Grindelwald is many things but crude he is not." His eyes went to Joyce. "Joyce! Truthfully, do you think that Grindelwald is crude?"

Joyce's cheeks became tinged with colour. "No," she said softly. "He isn't a crude man."

Lestrange smiled happily. "See? Joyce likes him."

"I don't like him," replied Joyce, her voice surprisingly forcefully. She held Lestrange's eye. "As a person, the man is far from crude. But I certainly don't condone his methods or his... tricks."

Everyone was silent. Buffy met Lovell's confused gaze and shrugged. She'd no idea what was going on between her Mom and Lestrange either.

"So... I do not believe Grindelwald is behind this," said Lestrange, addressing them all. "The attack lacked Grindelwald's finesse. I have contacts on the continent who believe Von Kendrick is working on his own. He has certainly not been seen near Grindelwald in the past few weeks."

Lestrange's brows drew together and he gazed at Buffy thoughtfully, "Aren't you supposed to be a Muggle? Should you be hearing all this?"

"Buffy is a Witch, not a Muggle," Peregrine replied. "She has every right to be in the Wizarding World and will be attending Hogwarts in September."

Joyce inhaled sharply. "What?" She shook her head vigorously. "No! No, she isn't." Her fingers scrabbled on the sheets, the material balling in her hands. "A Nomaj can't attend Hogwarts. Peregrine, she's fifteen and never shown signs of being magical."

Her brother patted her hand soothingly. "Dumbledore says differently..."

Lestrange snorted softly. The small sound didn't escape Buffy's sharp ears and she met the man's eyes. Intelligence glinted in their depths along with a hint of mirth. What deep game was he playing? She allowed some of her suspicion to leak onto her face. In return, he gave her a conspiratorial smile, for all the world as if they were two friends sharing a running joke rather than two strangers who'd just met.

"No, no. This can't be true! I want her safe."

Buffy wrenched her gaze away from Lestrange, concerned at the panic in her Mom's voice.

"... she got her Hogwarts letter today." Peregrine patted Joyce's hand once more. "Don't be fretting. Hogwarts has a lot of protective wards, she'll be safe there and enjoy every moment of it. Lovell hopes she'll be a Ravenclaw like him."

"Safe?" Joyce chewed at her bottom lip. "She will be safe, won't she?"

Peregrine nodded.

"Then I'm glad she'll be there." But Buffy thought her Mom still looked worried.

"Isn't it fascinating the way Buffy's magic developed so late?" mused Lestrange. "Why do you think that is, Joyce? Do you think something could have... blocked it?" His intense stare burned into the woman.

Joyce slid a frightened look at him. "I... I don't know. Maybe it's because Hank's a Muggle and I'm a Squib."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, disliking the way he questioned and frightened her Mom. Why was it her Mom's fault that her magic hadn't appeared until now? She folded her arms and death-glared the Minister. "I think Mom has had enough of your questioning. I know I have."

Once again, Lestrange was all contrite apologies. "Of course. Forgive my intrusion and my impertinent questions. It was delightful to meet you all." He waved a hand at a ruby-red robe hanging from the back of a chair. It rose into the air and flew to him.

"I hope you enjoy your time at Hogwarts, Buffy," he said, slipping the robe over his shoulders. "My son, Marcus, will be in the same year. I shall tell him to look out for you."

Buffy swallowed, suddenly nervous. He had a son who would be in her classes? "Er, I'm not sure if I'm gonna enjoy it. I have a lot of catching up to do and I'll be happy if I don't make a fool of myself in front of everyone."

Lestrange patted her arm and, at his touch, Buffy felt a heady rush of magic running through her. Her Slaydar hummed, cautioning that this man's magic was extremely powerful. When the warning faded away, in its place was a different sensation. This one was of familiarity, almost as if her magic knew and understood his. As Buffy searched his face, Lestrange held something up between his finger and thumb.

"You need to be careful of things like this, Buffy."

She saw that it was a stray blonde hair that had fallen onto her shoulder. "Huh?"

Lestrange's smile was enigmatic. "Polyjuice potion. Once someone has one of your hairs, they can assume your appearance."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" Buffy asked, taking the hair from him and dropping it in her purse. She'd no idea why anyone would want to look like her, except Spikey, he enjoyed things like that.

"You'd be surprised," Lestrange his gaze intense.

"Constant vigilance is always to the wise," said Moody cutting in. "There's no need to worry, Sir. I'll keep an eye on Buffy."

The Minister looked at him for a long moment, the small tic beneath his eye the only sign that he was annoyed at the statement. "Quite."

Moody cringed, and cleared his throat, "Ahem, I'll just go and visit my friend Danny. See you again some time, Buffy."

"I shall also bid you farewell," said Lestrange. "If you have need of me, contact the Ministry and ask for Bracius Lestrange. I shall not fail you."

With a graceful swirl of ruby-red robes, he walked down the aisle and from the ward. Buffy was about to return to her Mom when she spotted Alastor Moody behaving oddly again. The man half ran, half crouched along the wall of the ward. When he got to the door he stopped, peeked through the glazed aperture in the door to check the corridor, opened the doors. and disappeared out of sight.

Buffy frowned. She doubted that it was a coincidence he'd left immediately after Lestrange. The Auror had seemed suspicious of the Minister throughout the encounter. Why? She remembered the way Moody had tested Lestrange to make certain he wasn't an imposter. Lestrange had passed his test, so what was Moody up to?

"Buffy," Joyce called. She patted the mattress beside her. "Come and talk to me, Honey. You can eye the boys later."

Boys? She looked around her in confusion and spotted two older teenagers visiting a friend. Buffy had been so intent on Lestrange and Moody that she hadn't noticed them until her Mom pointed them out. She rolled her eyes, going over to her Mom's bed, and perching on the edge of the mattress next to her Mom.

"As if I'm gonna have time for a boyfriend," she muttered mutinously. "I have that much studying to do my nose will never come out of a book."

"Then I'm liking the fact you'll be at Hogwarts more and more," quipped Joyce. "It will keep you out of trouble."

Buffy's thoughts drifted back to Tom. Had he found her letter? Was he missing her? Would she find time to visit the orphanage before starting at Hogwarts? With all the studying she had to do, she wouldn't have time for a boyfriend but she'd always have time for a friend.

…...

A/N;

So Lestrange... :-)

Does he know Joyce's secret? Is he who he says he is? And we have Moody is on the hunt and Buffy is trying to make sense of her life.

Any ideas? What are your thoughts?

It is high time Buffy got into trouble, don't you think?

How about a little late night adventure in Muggle graveyards before we hit Diagon? There she will meet someone who we know from the Potter books and she outs herself in front of her new family. She never was good at having a secret identity...

Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. They give me a push to write!