Part 1 of The Beater
'Slayers should not be awake at this time on a weekend,' thought Buffy as she checked her watch. It was Saturday morning, and only a few people were at breakfast this early. Even the teachers preferred to lie-in at weekends, apart from Professor Dumbledore, the head table was empty. Today the Transfiguration teacher looked surprisingly perky. Across the emptiness of the Slytherin table, his twinkling blue eyes caught and held hers. Buffy didn't look away. Instead she held his gaze, biting into her toast and crunching down on it savagely.
"Brain-raper." she muttered, determined not to be the first to give way in this staring match. In case he did somehow gain access to her brain, she filled her thoughts with shoe imagery. That would put old Dumbles off doing his legi-thingy on her.
"Are you talking about Malfoy?" Uma asked sleepily from the other side of the table.
Fiona rubbed at her eyes and yawned. "Malfoy?" she stilled, realising what Buffy had said. Her eyes went round and wide. "Has he... tried something on with you?"
"No!" Buffy forgot her staring match to look at the girls across the table? "Why would I be thinking of Malfoy? I'm not even looking in his direction!"
Uma nodded, satisfied. "Good. He's an arse." She reached for the scrambled eggs. "Mind you, his family are loaded and they've got this huge ancient manor house that would be perfect for you. I think you'd soon find-."
"No," Buffy broke in firmly. Uma might be a born matchmaker but Buffy really didn't want to know the pros and cons of becoming Mrs Abraxas Malfoy. Manor house or not, it was never going to happen.
Ignoring Dumbledore, whose eyes were crinkling with amusement because he thought he'd won the staring match, Buffy looked along the table to where Malfoy was sitting. Most of the usual lot who sat there – Tom, Victor Avery, Marcus Lestrange – were absent. There was only Abraxas surrounded by a group of young, Quidditch crazy kids. Buffy knew that they were Quidditch fans as she'd heard them discussing their favourite teams and strange words like 'blagging' and 'blatching' kept drifting down the table.
She might be joining them soon. Buffy shuddered. How had she gotten into this? Sports were something that happened to other people, not her. She didn't want to play Quidditch. What if she fell off the broom and made a fool of herself?
With that in mind, she said, "You two don't need to come to the try outs. You could go back to the dorm."
Fiona yawned again and drooped over her toast. "Oh, no," she said tiredly. "We want to support you."
"And the Grindylows woke us all up, anyway," added Uma. She sleepily stared at her plate and added, "We've not had a lie-in since coming back to Hogwarts."
Buffy felt a familiar flash of guilt. She had to find a way to stop those water demons from bugging her and her friends once and for all. Why didn't they go and bug Rigel? He was the one who'd escaped being eaten.
As she chewed her toast and mused over the problem of Grindylows, a movement caught her eye. She looked up to see Tom and his friends approaching the Slytherin table. The boys around Malfoy were so intent on their match discussion that they didn't notice the dark looks being sent their way. Tom said nothing. He waited silently behind the boy in his place, his arms folded and wand out, his forefinger tapping against the handle of his bone coloured wand. Malfoy looked up, words dying on his lips as he frantically prodded the still chattering boy next to him. A tense silence descended and then the Quidditch boys apologised profusely as they rose out of their seats.
Tom merely raised an eyebrow before flicking his robe aside and sitting down at the table. He reached for the pumpkin juice jug to fill his goblet, and sensing that he was being watched, turned to look at Buffy a lazy smile on his lips.
Buffy snorted and looked away. "Weirdo," she said, reaching out to take another slice of toast and buttering it.
Across the table, Fiona let out a laugh. "Did you just call Riddle a weirdo?" She snickered. "What's he done this time? Glued another essay to a desk?"
Buffy grinned. "Nope, not this time. This time he..." She stopped, realising this was something she couldn't share. And it was such a shame, Uma and Fiona would have found it hysterical. Being Secret-Identity Girl really sucked.
"So why call him a weirdo?" Fiona asked, not letting the subject drop. "I thought you liked him? At least you two always get on well when you've studied together."
"I just think it's weird he's awake at this time," Buffy replied glibly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "I mean, after being on a late prefect patrol." As she spoke she thought back to the previous night...
It had all started off as a normal nightly patrol for a Slayer with nothing to slay. Spikey had disguised himself as another Slytherin student and together they'd explored the castle. Occasionally they'd come across a Hogwarts' elf cleaning the classrooms or a ghost gliding down the corridor. Elves and ghosts ignored them. The only ghosts who did enquire why they were out of bed were the House ghosts – the Friar, Nearly Headless Nick and the Baron. Buffy always answered truthfully, saying they were out on patrol and they never questioned her further. She guessed that the ghosts had seen many students over the centuries and didn't keep abreast of the latest prefects.
They'd been walking along a seventh-floor corridor when the noisy, little ghost, Peeves, had drifted out from a side wall and directly into their path. Seeing them walking along in the dark, the mischievous poltergeist had let out a loud squeal of delight.
Knowing prefects were patrolling on this floor, Buffy froze, – horrified.
"Wandering the corridors at midnight?" Peeves cackled. He stared first at Buffy and then at Spikey. Not recognising him as a boggart, Peeves did a little jig in the air that ended with a somersault. He sang, "If you're going to the Astronomy Tower for a sneaky kissy, kissy..." he made a smacking kiss noise with his lips, "you'll find yourself getting awfully dizzy!"
"You'll be the one getting all dizzy if you don't leave us alone!" Buffy whispered as loudly as she dared. Her Slayer hearing had picked up the sounds of prefects checking the classrooms further down the hall. If they heard voices, they'd come to investigate.
Peeves was now floating in mid-air, lying on his side. He wagged an admonishing finger at her. "It's bad to threaten poor, ikkle Peevesy."
"Cut it out!" she hissed, death glaring the pesky poltergeist for all she was worth.
The poltergeist sat up, his eyes glinting maliciously, mouth curling into a smile. "Naughty, naughty, I'll make you get caughty! STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" he yelled at the top of his voice.
It was too much for her boggart. With a loud snap, Spikey transformed back into his boggart form. Swelling up, like a very angry pufferfish, he flew towards a startled Peeves.
"NOOO!" shrieked Peeves. Whooshing upwards with the boggart snapping at his heels, he disappeared through the ceiling with Spikey following him.
Left alone, Buffy panicked. The noisy ghost had drawn the attention of two sets of prefects. The sound of their running footsteps were coming from both ends of the corridor. Any minute now they'd be in this corridor and find her. Buffy looked around in desperation. There were no doors nearby, only a series of pedestals holding unlit torches placed at intervals along the walls. They weren't large enough to conceal her.
Where to go? Where to hide?
There really was only one place she could hide. A little way behind her was a floor-to-ceiling tapestry depicting the antics of someone called 'Barnabas the Barmy'. Buffy darted back the way she'd come, yanked up the edge of the tapestry and dived behind it. Luckily, the wall was uneven and she was able to press herself into a hollow letting the tapestry hang down in front of her and shield her from sight.
The sound of footsteps grew nearer. Buffy, her palms sweaty and heart beating fast, stilled. She hoped they'd walk past her hiding place.
From her right, came the voice of Lucretia Black. "Did you hear what Peeves was shouting?"
"We most certainly did," replied a boy to Buffy's left. "He shouted that there were students out of bed, but there doesn't seem to be."
The tapestry was pressed against Buffy's face. She could smell the dust that had been disturbed when she'd moved the old fabric. Her nose tingled. Was she going to sneeze? She had the urge to rub her nose but the prefects were standing right in front of her.
"I suppose this is all a ruse to draw us in here," replied a bored sounding Tom Riddle. "He probably thought it funny and went off laughing about it somewhere."
"I expect you're right," came Lucretia's dulcet tones. "I'm going back to check the classrooms, there's clearly nothing worth looking at in this corridor." There came the sound of her feet moving back along the corridor.
"Damn that Peeves," spat the unknown boy. "I'm putting this in my prefect's report. He's getting worse for sending us all on wild goose chases. See you tomorrow, Riddle."
Buffy listened to the boy's steps retreating along the corridor. Her nose tingled again but she didn't move. Tom was still in front of the tapestry, she could see the glow of his wand tip through the material.
"I know you're there, watching me," said Tom. "You might be able to fool the others, but you can't fool me."
Buffy's breath caught in her throat. Had he seen her dive behind the tapestry? Or was he pretending, in the hope she'd give herself up? What if he knew she was here and he ripped away the tapestry? Could she cast her extra-shiny Lumos Charm and temporarily blind him with the light? Or maybe an Engorgement Charm strategically placed on his head followed by a Confundus? That would slow him down. He wouldn't be able to chase after her if he couldn't remember how to walk and kept tripping over his head.
"You pesky little blighter," continued Tom, a soft, yet menacing hiss to his voice. "I've warned you before not to play tricks on me, Peeves."
Buffy almost slumped with relief. Tom thought Peeves was still hanging around watching him. That meant Tom's head was safe from being inflated to that of a carnival dummy's. She hadn't wanted to hex him, as she had niggling worries about causing brain damage. Plus, Tom really was too cute to have a head the size of a small car.
The light from Tom's wand dimmed as he turned to face away from her. She frowned, watching the wand light move horizontally as if he was examining the wall. What was he doing?
Easing herself to one side with the grace and silence of an experienced Slayer, she peered around the edge of the tapestry. Tom stood with his back to her, and Buffy took a moment out to admire the way his robe stretched across his broad shoulders. He'd been skinnier at the orphanage, but now with the abundance of food at Hogwarts he was filling out. She tore her eyes away from his body to watch what he was up to. Tom was definitely searching that section of blank wall. He was peering between the chinks in the blocks and using his free hand to search each of the stones.
"I know you're here somewhere. Where are you? Show yourself!" Tom stepped back, pointed his yew wand at the wall and called out in a commanding voice, "Revelio!"
Buffy felt the power of his magic reverberate through the air. She tilted her head, waiting to see what would appear. Tom also waited, his entire focus on the wall before him. After a while, when it became apparent nothing was going to reveal itself, Tom stepped closer to the wall. Buffy watched him stroking the stones almost lovingly, his sensitive fingertips trailing delicately over the rough surface.
"I beseech you to open," his voice deep, low and seductive. "Reveal yourself to me!"
Nothing happened and Buffy stifled a laugh. Quickly, she pulled her head back behind the musty tapestry before she gave herself away. This was so weird.
"What must I do to make you obey me?" she heard Tom say to the wall. "What trick is needed to make you appear?"
"Tom?" called Lucretia's voice from the bottom of the corridor. "I've finished checking the classrooms. Did you find anything up there?"
"No!" Tom shouted back. Buffy heard his footsteps hurrying down the corridor to meet Lucretia. That made sense, he wouldn't want his fellow prefect catching him talking to the wall. A few moments later, Buffy heard the soft murmur of their voices as they moved further away.
Cautiously, Buffy stepped from her hiding place. She checked both ends of the corridor before approaching the wall Tom had been talking to. It looked like a blank section of stone wall, no different in appearance to a thousand other blank sections of walls around the castle.
Buffy ran her hands over the cool stones. Tom Riddle might be weird, but he was a smart weirdo. If he thought there was something special about this section of wall, there probably was...
"Are you deaf or what?"
Buffy blinked awake from her musing to find Abraxas Malfoy at her elbow, a reprovingly look on his face. She shot a look at Fiona and Uma, hoping for clues about what the arrogant boy was talking about. Both girls sat placidly eating their breakfast, watching Malfoy as if he was a species of exotic bird that had landed in front of them.
"What the huh?" Buffy asked.
"Do you have a broomstick of your own?" Malfoy articulated each word slowly as if he was talking to an imbecile.
"Nope," replied Buffy popping her 'p'. "I didn't think I needed one."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "By Merlin's wand, don't say you're so Muggle that you didn't know Quidditch is played on broomsticks?"
Buffy glared at him. "Of course I know! I just didn't bring a broomstick to school with me. Lovell told me I could borrow one from the school supplies."
Abraxas looked as if he'd been poisoned by something that tasted foul. With his face contorted with revulsion, he said, "Don't bother. I'll bring one for you to use. I expect you to be changed and ready at the Quidditch Pitch in twenty minutes. We have until 10.30 am at which time the Gryffindors take over the pitch. I've no idea why they always insist on taking the next slot after us, unless it's to check out the competition."
His eyes roved over Buffy's body. Buffy wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted when he scowled.
"Are you sure you want to try out for Beater?" he asked. "Beaters aren't normally Witches. It takes a lot of upper body strength to hit a Bludger and you look as if you'd have trouble wrestling with a Muggle umbrella. A Chaser position might be better for you. "
"I'll be fine," Buffy replied, feeling annoyed that Malfoy assumed she'd be weak because she was a female. "Swinging wooden implements is my kind of thing."
It was only hitting a ball with a stick whilst balancing on another stick. How hard could it be?
...
A/N;
beta-ing by Deiticlast.
Do you know what Tom was trying to find on that section of wall?
thanks to those who reviewed last chapter. Gifts of cyber chocolate and wine are gratefully received.
One guest asked if any of the other scoobies could follow Buffy to this dimension. The answer is I have no plans in that direction.