A night at the Leaky Cauldron

Buffy lay awake in the fourposter bed, her mind going over each of the bizarre things that had occurred that day. Below her, the pub's patrons were growing rowdier as the evening wore on. Snatches of song drifted up, the calls to Tom the barman for refills, drunken laughter, and the clinking of tankards. Buffy supposed the noise wasn't overly loud, most renting the room would hardly notice, but for an already hyped Slayer, it was enough to stop her falling asleep.

Frustrated at being unable to rest, Buffy sat up, smacked the pillow, and lay back down. It had been a long day and her uncle was planning an early start to the day, she really could use the sleep.

At around eleven o'clock she heard voices outside her room.

"... McMillan spiral dived," said the boy. "He levelled out, completely missed the snitch, and then saw the bludger incoming. He dropped into a classic Sloth Grip and the bludger sailed overheard. It was then it happened... he tried climbing back onto his broom, lost control, and..." the boy snorted with laughter.

"And? What happened then, Alphard?" asked a younger boy's voice.

Alphard continued to laugh. "McMillan... he fell and broke his arm. It hung from his shoulder like a wet rag. But that isn't the best part. He..." He guffawed, unable to speak for laughing.

Buffy gave the bedroom door a dark look. She didn't understand why anyone would find it funny someone had fallen and broken their arm. Buffy decided that Alphard was a jerk.

"I don't understand," the younger boy went on, still not getting the joke. "Players are always getting injured during Quidditch matches. What's so funny about that?"

The older boy chuckled. "When he landed, his broom broke... exploded... under him. They carted him off to the medi-witch's tent and then..." The boy laughed again. "He spent over an hour having the bristles removed from his... his nether regions!"

The younger boy let out a giggle and Buffy rolled her eyes.

Alphard laughter became louder. They were directly outside of Buffy's door now.

"To make it worse, his aunt's the medi-witch for the Appleby Arrows... Tonkins said... she even had to yank bristles out of... MacMillan's privates. Tonkins heard MacMillan saying that he'll never be able to look his aunt in the face again."

The younger boy laughed so hard that he lost his balance and fell against Buffy's door. Buffy let out a groan of frustration, sat up, banged her pillow, and lay back down again. She stared up at the bed canopy and listened to Rigel's laughter. She was never going to get any sleep at this rate.

A door opened further along the corridor. "ALPHARD!" screeched a high-pitched voice girl's voice. "Both of you, get into bed now!"

"Yes, Sis," replied the older boy in a meek voice.

"And DON'T call me Sis!" The girl shrieked again. "Remember we are the Blacks! We have standards to keep up!"

"Yes, Walburga," the older boy replied politely.

Walburga's door closed, and Buffy heard Alphard mutter, "You trout-faced, Harpy."

Rigel giggled, and Buffy heard their footsteps move off. Then the sound of a door opening and closing.

Buffy sighed, relieved that they'd gone. She lay looking up at the pleated bed canopy, her thoughts returning to her new family, being a witch, lessons with Dumbledore, and the way her Mom and Lestrange had acted with each other. From that, she moved on to worrying over her Mom once more. They hadn't spent long with her before Joyce had shown signs of tiredness and they'd left her bed to find the ward's healer. A healer who had insisted on examining Buffy on her Mom's behest.

It seemed that Joyce Summers knew her daughter only too well and had asked the healers to check Buffy for injuries if they saw her. After offering Buffy a memory enhancing potion, which she'd reluctantly accepted, the healer spoke about her Joyce's injuries. Despite nullifying the dark hex that Von Kendrick had cast, they hadn't completely eradicated all the damage. The healer admitted that injuries such as this took a long time to heal and that it would be some time before Joyce was well enough to leave the hospital. From then on, she'd need to return for regular assessments and perhaps further treatment.

That sent Buffy into a panic. How could she go to Devon with the Lovegoods and leave her Mom? Peregrine had calmly assured her that visiting St Mungo's wasn't a problem as his home was connected to the floo-network. Seeing her confusion, Lovell explained what a floo was (a way of travelling directly from their fireplace to the one inside St Mungo's) and put Buffy's mind at rest.

A woman laughed in the bar downstairs. Buffy rolled over, picked up the clock from the nightstand and checked the time – eleven thirty-five. When would the pub chase everyone out and close?

She sighed. Thinking now of Hogwarts. Once she'd bought a wand and her schoolbooks, Professor Dumbledore would floo in to tutor her through all the main subjects. Normally, students weren't allowed to perform any magic outside of Hogwarts and Dumbledore had needed to obtain special permission from a friend at the Ministry. Buffy thought it would be the first time she'd had a private tutor before, at least, not one who wasn't teaching her to fight. Dumbledore was interesting. Lovell said he was a good teacher, firm but fair and Buffy knew that he would be no push-over. He was also the type who'd spot someone hiding a secret a mile away and try to squeeze it out of them.

Inside her head she could hear Giles's voice telling her, 'You must keep your identity a secret, Buffy. That's imperative.' She'd broken that rule. The faces of her former companions drifted into her mind. She had names for most of them now; kind-hearted, clever Willow, brave and funny Xander, and the acidic Cordelia. There were others who'd known her secret, but their names and faces still shadowy and indistinct in her memory.

Time slowly wore on. At around one am the pub below became silent, the only sounds now crackling of logs in the grate and the creak of the ancient building as it settled for the night. Buffy snuggled down into the warm bed as tiredness caught up with her and she started to doze.

From somewhere in the corridor, a door opened slowly and softly closed. Buffy's eyes shot open, and she tensed, listening. A set of light footsteps passed her door and then began descending the staircase that led to the public rooms below.

Buffy sat up in bed, staring over her bedroom door. Was that Lovell? They'd bonded over toad hunting, and her cousin had overcome his tongue-tied shyness to talk her ear off about rare magical moths. There was the lace-winged Kensington Cobweb moth that he claimed could only be found in the parks and green spaces of London. Had Lovell decided to sneak out and go hunting?

Climbing off the bed, Buffy padded over to the window and twitched the curtain to one side. Below her, the street lay dark and deserted. From somewhere in the distance, she heard the rumble of traffic as trucks drove through the capital and somewhere out on the river Thames she heard a boat's horn signalling to the dock workers. She waited, breathing in the smell of dust, woodwork, plaster, and magic, knowing that it would take a while for whoever it was to cross the public and private rooms below.

Her patience paid off when a figure appeared on the sidewalk below. Buffy peered down at the slight figure who wore a dark robe, with the hood pulled low over their face to conceal their identity. The figure moved, and her Slayer night vision spotted the hint of feminine curves. That was definitely not her cousin who was tall and gangly. Was it the girl of the screechy voice and the two laughing brothers, Walburga Black?

Buffy watched from the window as the girl checked all around her before crossing the street. Once on the opposite side, she set off at a brisk pace. Where was she headed? A party? Was she meeting a guy there? Buffy had a sudden pang of loneliness, wishing for close friends of her own and a party to go to. She was a stranger in a foreign country and, apart from Tom and Lovell, didn't know anyone her own age. Would she make friends in Hogwarts? Maybe her cousin would know lots of people and they'd allow her to join their group.

A large, pale moth fluttered against her window. At the same time, all the hairs on Buffy's neck stood on end as if a chill wind had blown onto her. Her Slaydar jangled, warning her that a vampire was close. Buffy froze. Without turning around, she strained her senses. A log fell apart in the fireplace spitting sparks and Spikey gently bumped inside the old wardrobe, but she sensed no one else in the room. It still didn't stop her confirming it by shooting a look over her shoulder. The vampire must be outside. Buffy leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the window and peering sideways through the distorted glass panes.

She soon spotted the three figures making their way down the street. Two male and a female, all wearing in dark clothing that was at least forty years out of date and brazenly striding along as if they had every right to roam the streets. Just seeing them affronted her inner Slayer. Before she realised what she was doing, Buffy was pulling out the boy's clothing she'd brought fro the orphanage from the suitcase. Quickly dragging on the trousers and swapping her nightdress for a dark sweater. After pulling on a pair of thick socks and boots, she hurried over to the wardrobe. As soon as she opened the door, Spikey shot out and zoomed around her head.

"I'm going out looking for night creepers of the blood-sucking variety." Buffy grabbed the dark woollen cap off a shelf. Twisting her hair up into a knot, she pulled on the boy's cap and pushed stray locks under the fabric. "Don't be causing any trouble in here whilst I'm gone."

The boggart's large eyes blinked innocently.

"I'm not stupid. I know you went out earlier. You did, didn't you?"

Spikey shook his head and Buffy let out a huff of disbelief. She eyed the boggart, considering her options. She could take it with her or... Lestrange's words came back to her, giving her an idea. "You can make yourself useful while I'm gone. Stay in this room and pretend to be me."

There was a cracking noise as the boggart transformed into a mirror image of Buffy.

Running her eyes up and down herself, she winced. "Ugh, I so need a cuter outfit than this one." She stared at the boggart, trying to work out what was wrong with what she was seeing.

Finally, she hit on it."Nightdress! You need to wear a nightdress. And stay in bed. Should anyone come in or make you open the door, yawn a lot and pretend you're too sleepy to talk."

Once it had changed, and she was semi-confident the boggart would do as it was told, Buffy grabbed the stake that she'd made from an old broom handle, tucked it into her waistband and set off in pursuit of the vampires.

All her previous sleepiness gone, it was dark, there were vampires to hunt and the Slayer was in her element.

…...

A/N;

In the HP books Walburga only had one brother mentioned - Alphard. Rigel is one of my OC and he will come into this again later.

Thanks to all who commented on the last chapter. :-)

I have been researching London graveyards for the next one. Buffy gets her slay on, a family member has a surprise and Buffy has a nasty shock.