A/N; Thank you to the following reviewers last chapter;
amy-with-an-i, CallaRose4ever, Sammiemarie123, LadyKatherine29, RaSulli, Aintgotnone, Katescats, glowdust3 and two guests!
The Hogwarts Express.
Tuesday, September 1st 1942
Inside Kings Cross station, Joyce Summers rushed across the foyer to check the time on the station clock whilst Buffy and Lovell found two carts to load their school trunks onto. Once loaded up, the pair hurried across to where Joyce waited for them.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
"There were none in the stand!" Buffy called, the cart bouncing as she pushed it.
"Luckily, I remembered that there are usually a couple of trolleys near the guard's office," Lovell added.
"Yeah, we took them while his back was turned," Buffy admitted cheerfully and without any shame.
Joyce frowned, looking a tad worried that her daughter and nephew had stolen the guard's carts. "Buffy! You didn't?!"
"We're only borrowing them. He can have them back when we've finished with them." To deflect any lectures, Buffy added, "What time is it, Mom?"
"It's twenty to eleven." Joyce gave the laden carts an uneasy look but decided that since they were running late there was no time for a lecture. "Will you be alright pushing those carts? We need to hurry."
"Mom, we're fine. Stop fussing, we have plenty of time."
The three walked quickly, Joyce's heels clicking on the hard floor of the building, Lovell happily pushing his cart which rolled smoothly along and Buffy gritting her teeth and fighting with hers. She'd just thought she'd gotten it rolling smoothly when out of the blue, it spun sideways. Buffy yanked on the handle, pulling it back in line. She leaned forward as she pushed, to stare at the front wheel. The way it kept spinning in all different directions made her think it had been left at the guard's office because it was faulty.
"I think I have a dud cart," she called, rushing to catch up to Lovell and her Mom who'd slowed down when they'd realised she'd fallen behind. "It has a dodgy wheel."
Buffy took her place, walking behind her mother and alongside Lovell. The three of them took up a lot of room and other passengers had to dodge them. One commuter swore at Buffy when her cart suddenly swung directly in front of him and he almost fell over it.
"Oops, sorry!" Buffy apologised, dragging the cart out of his way. "It's the cart. It isn't my driving skills."
Looking unconvinced, the man gave her the stink-eye and scuttled off. Buffy hurried again to where her Mom and Lovell were waiting for her on a footbridge. Joyce Summers staring pointedly at the station clock and Lovell pushing his toad back into his pocket.
"Do you still have your wand, Honey?" Joyce Summers called over to Buffy.
Buffy nodded absently, still struggling with the cart. She'd been asked that question several times already that morning.
"Are you sure you didn't leave it in the taxi? I saw you take it out in there."
Buffy rolled her eyes. As if she'd lose her wand! Risking the life and limbs of a passerby, she took a hand off the cart and pulled the wand from the back of her waistband. "See?" She waved it in the air. "It's right here."
"Don't do that here!" Joyce said, shooting worried looks at the Muggle station guards and passengers to see if anyone had noticed. No one had.
Buffy's cart veered off course again, this time looking set to fly off the bridge. Joyce grabbed the handle, helping to keep it in line while Buffy put her wand away.
"Don't keep it in your waistband," Joyce scolded. "It isn't a safe place to carry it. What happens if it shoots out a spell and causes an injury?"
"Then I won't be able to sit down for a while," Buffy replied with a grin. "It'll be too ouchy. Don't worry about it, Mom."
"I'm your mother, worrying about you is what I do." Joyce returned. "I'm going to send you an arm holster. I'm not happy with you keeping it in the back of your waistband. Even if it doesn't accidentally cast a spell, you might accidentally sit on it."
They passed platforms 7 and 8 and were approaching 9 and 10 when another worrying thought occurred to Joyce. "Lovell, do you still have your toad?"
Lovell's toad was the main reason they were running late. Just as the taxi drew up, Lovell had discovered Knuts was missing. They'd all spent several minutes turning the place over trying to find it, only to find it sat on top of Lovell's trunk watching them.
Lovell obligingly let go of his cart and tapped his pocket. "Knuts is still there, Aunt Joyce."
The front wheel of Buffy's cart spun and the trolley tried swinging sideways. She wrestled with it and brought it back into line. "I wish I had another cart," she complained.
"I had a trolley like that in my first year," replied Lovell from his spot beside her. "It took off on platform 9 ¾ and I nearly fell off the platform and onto the rails. Everyone laughed at me."
"That's wrong of them," Buffy said grimly. "They wouldn't have laughed if I'd been there." From what her cousin told her about Hogwarts there was a fair amount of bullying and tormenting of others going on there.
Lovell shrugged. "I was more worried about the contents of my trunk then being laughed at."
Buffy gave him a side look, not sure if he really didn't care how others treated him or if was hiding it.
"Come on," Joyce called. The signs for platforms 9 and 10 hung in front of her. "We have ten minutes left. You'll need to hurry if you want a good compartment."
They all came to a halt, facing the central one with platform 9 to one side and 10 to the other. Buffy stepped to the left, craning her neck to look for the Hogwarts Express. There was a train pulling out of platform 10, but it didn't look distinctive. Lovell and Peregrine had told her the Hogwarts train was bright red, and she couldn't miss it. She took a step right and saw the other platform was empty.
"Where's the train?" she asked. "Have we missed it?" If her Mom and Lovell hadn't been there she would have gone into a panic.
"It's through there," Joyce replied, pointing at the dividing barrier. "There's normally a queue here. I bet you are the last ones to go through." She bit her lip as another worrying thought occurred to her. "I hope the station clock isn't wrong."
"It won't be," said Lovell. "I'm often this late." Backing his cart slightly, he lined it up with a certain section of the wall. He shot Buffy a shy grin. "Watch me, you'll like this."
Lovell blew a stray curl of hair away from his eyes, rubbed his hands, and then taking hold of his cart's handle shouted, "See you in the Christmas holidays, Aunt Joyce!" as he ran full-tilt at the wall.
Buffy watched anxiously. Not sure if this was a Wizarding thing or if today was the day her cousin had gone completely insane and she'd witness a nasty accident. Just as she expected him to hit the wall with a loud crash, Lovell vanished.
"He's run through the wall!" she squealed. Grabbing hold of her mother's sleeve in excitement she repeated, "Mom! Lovell ran through a wall!" When her Mom didn't answer, Buffy looked up to see a shadow of sadness on her mother's face.
"What's wrong? Don't you feel well? I knew you shouldn't have left the hospital. You shouldn't have discharged yourself. Shall I take you back to St Mungo's?"
Choked with emotion and unable to speak, Joyce shook her head. "It's not that." She put her arm around Buffy's waist and pulled her to her in a hug. "I remember coming here with my parents and Peregrine. All those times watching the train pulling away and wondering why I didn't have magic..."
"I'm sorry," Buffy said, trying to convey how sorry she was. This world was just opening up for her, but her Mom had never fit in. No wonder coming here brought back bad memories.
"It isn't your fault, honey. Will you think I'm a bad Mom if I don't go onto the platform with you?" To Buffy's horror, tears sparkled in her Mom's eyes. "I don't want everyone to see me crying as my daughter leaves on that train."
'That train.' Those two words seemed to hang in the air between them.
"You didn't want me to be a witch, did you?" Buffy asked, finally realizing how deeply her mother felt about this.
"No! It's not -," Joyce's voice broke off. She sniffed and brushed away a tear. "I can't explain it now, but it would have been simpler if you'd been a Muggle-.
"Like Dad," Buffy said flatly, remembering Hank Summers' letter. In the letter, he'd accused Joyce had been dishonest from the start of their marriage. Had he found out about magic? Is that why their marriage failed? Because Joyce hadn't been truthful about who, or what, she was?
"No!" exclaimed Joyce. "Not like your Dad at all." |She continued in a softer voice, "The magical world will seem exciting to you, but there's a bad side to it. One that's full of bigotry, hate, and danger. As a Muggle you'd have been safe from those who might try to use or harm you."
'Safe?' The word held Buffy's attention. Her dreams told her that as a Slayer she was far from safe. If her Mom thought the Wizarding world was her daughter's biggest threat, she didn't know her daughter was a Slayer.
Joyce brushed a tear away and laughed. "Look at me. Crying because my daughter is going off to boarding school. I want you to go and experience what I never did. Run at the barrier and, whatever you do, don't think about crashing into it. They say that's very important."
"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" Buffy asked. The clock above the platform showed that it was almost five minutes to eleven. If she was going to catch this train, she couldn't put off leaving any longer.
"I'll be fine. Promise me, you'll study hard and not be distracted by boys and sex."
Buffy's head spun so fast that her ponytail hit her face."What?! Mom!"
Joyce smiled. "I've heard stories about Hogwarts. Oh, and don't go off with strangers."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "As if!"
After a last hug, Buffy took hold of the cart once more and carefully aligned it to the section of wall Lovell had disappeared through.
Then, her face set with grim determination, Buffy set off at a sprint. The barrier came closer and closer. The cart's wheel spun out of line. With a fast yank of Slayer strength, Buffy set it back on course and forced it at the wall. Her Slaydar shrieked in warning as she hit the magical wards, then, for a terrifying moment, there nothing but darkness and then it was light once more.
And she was still running.
Her school trunk bounced up on down as the trolley gained momentum; Buffy being forced to run faster to keep up with it. Ahead, resplendent in scarlet livery, the Hogwarts Express stood at the crowded platform. Smoke from its funnels drifted along the platform. Buffy ran towards it, past a group of second-year pupils, past a small wizard guard, and on towards a group of parents.
There was something wrong with the cart. It pulled her on, racing like a horse with its bit between its teeth. Too scared to use Slayer strength in front of everyone, Buffy desperately held onto the handle, trying to dig her heels in and hope that it would be enough to slow it. It wasn't working.
"I can't stop! Get out the way!" she yelled at the last minute.
Parents scattered, kids gaped and then flung themselves aside as she charged through their group. The cart tugged to the left, veering dangerously close to the edge of the platform and Buffy, remembering Lovell saying that he'd almost fallen onto the lines, let out a scream. She was going to fall head first onto the tracks. Two wheels of the cart were over the edge, her feet skidded on the painted edge of the concrete. No longer caring that people might see and wonder, more afraid of crashing down onto the lines, Buffy brought her Slayer strength into play.
"You're not...beating... me," she panted out, forcing the cart right and bringing all four wheels back onto the platform.
And then others were helping her. Burly boys surrounded the cart and slowing it, first to a sedate roll and finally a stop. Uncurling her fingers from the handle, Buffy stood with legs trembling from the shock. It was only a damn British Rail luggage cart, but it had shaken her more than fighting a pack of master vampires.
"Are you hurt?" a boy asked.
Buffy looked into the azure eyes of a tanned Apollo. A total hottie that she'd made a fool of herself in front of. She put her hand to her face, hiding her embarrassment.
"Umm, I'm totally fine thanks, but I think this cart is jinxed."
When she'd hoped to make an impression on the other students on her first day this was not what she'd been thinking of.
…..
Onboard the train, Tom Riddle was in one of the first carriages when he heard the scream. Like everyone else, he tensed and fell silent. That was not the excited squeal of a child greeting friends or the scream of frustration and anger of a younger child stopped from boarding the train. It was a scream of terror.
"What's that? What's happening out there?" asked Horace Slughorn, looking around his audience of favourite pupils for an answer.
Tom thought the question exceptionally foolish. For the past twenty minutes, they'd been forced to listen to Sluggy whittle on about the hampers sent to him by past pupils. How would any of them know what was happening outside?
"Sir, shall I go and see?" Tom asked with an obliging smile. He was eager to escape the fat professor and curious to see what was happening.
"That's a good boy, Tom," Slughorn beamed, rocking back on his heels and showing off his large belly. "I know I can rely on you to acquire the right information."
Outside the compartment, the corridor was so densely packed with chattering students that he could hardly move. Spotting a fellow fifth former leaning from a door window, Tom pushed his way towards her.
"Do you know who screamed?" he asked. "Sluggy sent me to find out."
Lucretia Black stepped to the side allowing him to take her place at the door. "I think it's the jinxed trolley," she replied. "The one that turns up every few years and causes trouble. The blonde girl over there shot from the barrier and it tried throwing her off the platform. A group of boys stopped it in time."
"What a shame," replied Tom, who didn't care either way but knew to make the right noises.
He knew about the jinxed trolley. Some believed that its wheel had been hexed by mischievous students to bait Muggles, others believed a vengeful dark wizard had placed a dark curse on it many years ago. No one knew the truth, but every so often a trolley would show up with a Hogwarts first-year and either would dump their trunk onto the line or 'accidentally' run someone over.
Tom leaned out of the window and spotted the crowd huddled around the jinxed trolley and the first year. With a soft snort of disgust, Tom took in the boys who'd gone to the girl's rescue. Apart from the desire to look a hero in front of others, he saw no reason why they would concern themselves with a first-year. Scanning their faces, he began to make mental notes of identity and paying particular note of strong emotions. You could learn a lot from observing fellow students.
There was the vile Gryffindor, Lancelot Lockhart, standing around hoping that people would mistake him for a hero, next to him there was an unknown older boy. Tom took an instant dislike to him. He had one of those handsome and honest faces that needed hexing – the sort who always ended up in Gryffindor. Speaking of Gryffindors, Bernard Weasley the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, his face redder than his hair, was one of those there and standing beside him was...
Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise. Abraxus Malfoy? Why would Malfoy put himself out by helping a first-year? Was she from a Pureblood family? And then Tom did another double-take, Marcus Lestrange was there too. Who was this young Pureblood witch who'd garnered so much attention? The crowd moving around the group obscured them and Weasley's gangly body blocked his view of the girl.
"Move, Weasley, move," Tom hissed, his eyes burning into the back of Weasley's head as his magic stirred.
Weasley shuffled an inch or two to the side and Tom caught a glimpse of the girl's hunched shoulder and a lock of blonde hair. It wouldn't surprise him if the spoilt first-year was in tears. He sneered. A delicate flower, sheltered by devoted parents, who'd never known any real hardship in her short life. How he despised the Pureblood girls who were like that.
The engine whistled, signalling that it was time to board and the boys stepped away from the trolley and the girl. At the same time, she raised her head from her hands and looked over at the engine.
No!
Buffy Summers.. on the platform...with a school trunk.
His heart beat wildly in his chest, blood whooshed through his ears and he couldn't move. Students pushed past as they made their way back to travelling companions. A seventh-year boy came to the carriage door and blocked the view of the platform. Tom stepped out of his way. Once he'd gone, Tom moved back to the door, his eyes seeking Buffy. She was further down the platform now and a curly-haired, Ravenclaw boy walked alongside her. Lockhart and the boy with the face that needed hexing followed, calling to her and pushing the jinxed trolley between them. She became lost from sight when crowds of parents moved up to the train to say their last goodbyes to their children.
Tom was vaguely aware of Lucretia Black casting a puzzled look at him as she moved to the door, gently pushing him aside as she waved to her parents. On the platform, the guard blew his whistle, signalling for the train to move out and the carriage lurched as the train rolled forward. Normally, Tom would have returned to his compartment and travelling companions but he remained leaning against the side of the carriage, deep in thought.
Buffy Summers was a witch. Well, that explained why he'd felt so at ease in her company. His magic had recognised a fellow magic user even if he hadn't known the reason why he'd been drawn to her. It came as a relief, he'd been wondering if he'd developed an unfortunate liking for Muggles. His worry now was that she'd turn out to be a Mudblood...
Then he scowled. At the orphanage, Buffy had asked several times to see his textbooks and when he'd refused to let her near them, she'd smiled – knowingly. She must have known that he was a Wizard! Sparks of annoyance flared inside him. Had she been laughing at him? That teasing letter she'd left beneath his pillow saying she would turn up when least expected. He'd thought she intended to return to the orphanage and been disappointed that she hadn't. All along she had known that she'd see him at Hogwarts. Why hadn't she told him? His blood ran cold and then red hot. Did she look down at him, for being an orphanage boy?
Anger and magic rose inside him in equal measures, hissing and spitting like green wood on a fire.
'Orphanage boy, orphanage boy, orphanage boy,' the train seemed to chant as it's wheels rattled along the tracks.
'Orphanage boy.' The insult Muggle children had first levelled at him when he'd appeared in their midst wearing Cole's grey uniform. They'd tried to bully him, to belittle him, to force him to become less than them because he had less than them. He'd put a stop to their bullying in the only way he could – through magic. They'd stopped their taunts after the first few accidents and left him alone.
'Orphanage boy, orphanage boy, orphanage boy,' chanted the train.
When he'd arrived at Hogwarts, he'd thought it was a chance to escape his background and be on equal footing with the rest of the students. Instead, he'd found that his housemates were Purebloods who despised those without a long pedigree.
'Orphanage boy, orphanage boy, orphanage boy.'
Bullying was rife in Slytherin, and Tom hadn't escaped unscathed those first few terms. Only with patience, a display of parseltongue, and true cunning had he turned the tables on those who'd bullied him. Now, they acknowledged him as the Heir of Salazar Slytherin and honoured the presence of a true serpent in their midst. He'd never revealed the squalid conditions of Cole's or mentioned what he faced on his return, and that's how he wanted it to stay.
Buffy knew his background. She'd witnessed the poverty, the degradation, his Muggle place of birth, and she'd even seen photos of his parents. She'd known he was a wizard and laughed behind his back. If she opened her mouth and told others where he'd come from...
'Orphanage boy, orphanage boy, orphanage boy,' the train chanted as its wheels rattled along the tracks.
"The prefects are meeting in the first compartment," said Lucretia, breaking into his thoughts. "Are you coming with me?"
Tom looked up at her from under his lashes, surprised his fellow prefect had remained behind. Had she been watching him? His eyes darkened, and the girl looked uneasy at his scrutiny. Tom knew the Black family were hoarders of secrets and waited until the time was right before using them against their enemies. Lucretia Black, he'd remember her and her inappropriate interest in his affairs. The Black family were powerful and influential, it wouldn't be wise to move against her openly, but should she step out of line...
"Please make my excuses," he said, the polite mask slipping over his face once more. "I need to speak to Professor Slughorn first. I shall join you in the prefect compartment shortly."
…...
2 A/N;
You all wanted to see Tom so here he is. In all his devious splendour.
So... what house do you think Buffy will end up in? How will her meeting with the hat go?