Thanks to all those who left reviews (of gifts of cyber wine on the last post!)
Guest – thanks, I am working hard to get into Tom's head. He is complex character and it's nice to know most think I have read him right.++
Cassie-011 – more on Buffy being a Beater. Yes it did cause problems! Tom is definitely in denial and angry with himself for having feelings. He didn't want to go down that pathway and it has taken a Slayer to make him wake up to the fact he has them.
Spirit of the night Owl. – Snobbishness was inherent in British society. After the war there were a lot of changes. Re. babies born as a result of love potions not being able to feel love. That is fancanon. JKR addressed this in the 2007, saying that if Meriope Gaunt had lived Tom would have been loved and felt love. He is capable of feeling love and being in love.
CallaRose4ever. – LOL Buffy's flying is something else! She had fun.
Guest – yep, jealous Tom. Doesn't want to be in love with her himself and can't bare the thought of someone else being with her.
AlexDumbee – thank you!
Lian1094 – Thank you for saying that. Hope you enjoy this next one?
Nicole1024 – Thank you!
Guest – Thank you. Yes Tom didn't recognise what Buffy was saying. Guess he'd never seen it done or said like that before :-) Or maybe he didn't want to appear too Muggle in front of his friends.
Sammiemarie123 – thank you
and now for the next chapter...
…...
THE FOG
Buffy was loving her team tryout. Riding any broomstick was special for a girl raised Muggle, but a racing broom was the best fun of all. Of course, Malfoy wasn't happy about the madcap antics she was doing on his broom, but he had the sort of face Buffy found easy to ignore. It was too much fun doing crazy bomber dives, taking off rocket-style, and even flying upside down to bother what Malfoy thought. Flying a high-powered broomstick was totally awesome!
So when she heard the sound of a whistle, Buffy did a final lap of the pitch before reluctantly coming in to land. She landed, her feet barely touching the grass before Malfoy approached her.
"Did I make it? Quidditch is just great, I've had so much fun!"
Malfoy frowned at her, folded his arms and regarded her sternly. "Fun?" he asked reprovingly. He pointed over to where Dolohov, Avery and Flint stood to one side. "Look at them! Do they look as if they've had fun to you?"
Buffy looked over. Dolohov nursed a hand against his chest, Avery rubbed at his shoulder and glared, whilst Flint was staring in disbelief at the end of his broom where the bristles used to be. Buffy bit back a smirk and quickly looked away.
"I guess this proves you were right," she replied. "Quidditch is not for the faint-hearted."
"Faint-hearted?" Malfoy repeated. "Those are my three best players! Look at Avery! Why in Morgana's name did you hit a Bludger at Avery?"
Buffy opened her mouth but didn't get the chance to reply.
"The Quaffle was nowhere near the scoring area when you struck at him!" Malfoy snapped. "A stupid move from you like that would have cost penalties during a match. Did you even read the rule book I gave you?"
"Um, I might not have read 'all' of it." She'd flicked through the pages, took one look at the complicated diagrams and technical descriptions, and shut it. It had remained shut ever since.
Malfoy progressed from the reproving folded-arm stance to irate hand waving. "Avery has injured his shoulder, Dolohov's broken his fingers, and Flint's broom needs major repair work. In fact, you've caused more damage to the Slytherin team in the last fifteen minutes than the rest of Hogwarts did all last season!"
"Hey! I'm injured too! I chipped a nail!"
"A chipped nail does not compare to two players in the infirmary!"
"You should be thankful," Buffy retorted.
"Thankful?!" spluttered Abraxas, eyebrows raised. "Thankful? What, in Merlin's name, have I to be thankful for?"
Buffy flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her robe. "Imagine what would happen if I played against you," she replied.
Malfoy's face became so red, Buffy thought he might spontaneously combust. "Look!" he exclaimed. "Look at all the mayhem you've caused!"
"Don't blame me! It was the Bludgers that hurt them!"
"You were the one whacking them!"
"Hey, that's not fair!" Buffy's face was mutinous. "You told us to 'hit those Bludgers as hard as you can'. It isn't my fault some can't dodge."
It wasn't fair. She'd been careful to not overpower her hits, and she'd aimed for the broom rather than the player. Most of the time she'd gotten it right, but Bludgers were charmed to hit people and a couple of times they went off course. She shot another look at the three boys. Dolohov was in a worse way than the others. Dried blood encrusted his hand and his fingers looked... mangled.
"I'm sorry about Bludger hitting your hand," she said. She'd hit that one hard, but had meant to take his broom out.
Dark rage flashed across Dolohov's face. Buffy tensed, ready to dive to one side and cast a protective shielding spell over herself. Then he smiled... if you could call a lip curl a smile.
Dolohov shrugged. "It is nothing. Merely a game that got out of hand." Buffy had the feeling it choked him to say it. "Skele-gro, pain-killers... I'll soon feel better."
"Besides the damage to Dolohov and Avery, you've busted Flint's broom and broken one of the Bludgers," Malfoy said to Buffy. He gestured to where a Bludger hovered on the other side of the pitch. It drifted along aimlessly, occasionally bumping into a wooden strut. "We'll be lucky if Sluggy doesn't deduct points from us for breaking expensive school equipment."
"It's a Bludger, they're meant for hitting!'" Buffy pointed out.
Malfoy sighed, loudly.
"I did what you asked." She pouted at Malfoy. "I'll be the best Beater ever. Don't I get to be on the team?"
There was silence. Malfoy gazed, almost mesmerised, at Buffy's pout. Flint shot him a dark look and when he didn't respond, punched him in the shoulder. Embarrassed, Malfoy cleared his throat and replied, "Tell you what, Summers: you catch the Snitch and I'll put you on the team."
Buffy flashed Malfoy a mega-watt smile. That would be easy. If she could hunt down and kill a demon, a small flying ball shouldn't be a problem. "Sure," she said, then couldn't resist asking cheekily, "If I find catch and catch the Snitch, does that mean I get your job as Seeker?"
He returned the smile with a slightly awkward one of his own. "You need to find it first, Summers. Last time I saw it," he pointed up at the fog, "it went that way."
Whilst Buffy looked up and searched the sky for the Snitch, Malfoy took the opportunity to wink at Dolohov, Avery and Flint. Dolohov and Avery exchanged puzzled looks, but Flint smirked knowingly.
When Buffy looked back at Malfoy, he continued smugly, "We'll put the equipment away and wait for you back at the Common Room."
Buffy realised Malfoy thought she'd never find it. Knowing that he expected her to fail only made her more obstinate. She wasn't scared of flying in that fog. Visibility was poor, but with her enhanced Slayer vision and fast reflexes, she was confident that the Snitch wouldn't escape.
She was about to make a sarcastic retort when the world tilted beneath her feet. Malfoy's pinched face faded and Buffy was flung into a vision.
Darkness, she was surrounded by darkness. There was the sensation of being below the earth, and the muffled sounds of someone crying from above... Buried, she was buried. Time passed. Now she was no longer in the grave but above it, without physical form. Below her, Tara, Xander, Anya, and Willow were gathered at her graveside.
Once more, she witnessed a ceremony. Willow beseeching Osiris to 'allow Buffy to pass', and then came Willow's dry heaving, and the appearance of a snake in Willow's mouth. She'd seen this before. Mentally she began to pull away when something changed: Willow's face sloughing off. Skin darkening, flesh shrivelling and dropping away to reveal the white skull beneath.
No, that wasn't right. It wasn't only a skull that remained, there was also the snake. It hung from the mouth of the skull, glancing at Buffy before hissing softly and dropping to the ground.
"Buffy?!" Malfoy barked.
Startled, Buffy came back to the present. She was standing in the Quidditch stadium but she could still see the skull with the snake hanging from its mouth in her mind's eye. What did it mean? Did it mean anything?
Malfoy crossed the short gap between them. He placed his hands on her forearms and with real concern, asked, "You alright, Summers? You've gone very pale. You aren't worried about your fate, are you?"
Buffy frowned, confused at the question. "Fate? Why should I worry about my fate? Should I be?" Slayers often had prophetic dreams, yet all she dreamed of was a past life.
"Faint, not fate," corrected Malfoy. "I asked if you were going to faint. Look, if you're ill, go back to the Common Room and I'll catch the Snitch."
Calling the broom to her hand, Buffy replied brightly, "I'll be fine. I'll worry about catching the Snitch and you worry about where you'll keep all your trophies when I'm on the team." She needed to prove once and for all to Malfoy that girls were good enough to play on the team. She looked up. The dense cloud of dark fog hung ominously above their heads and thought what the dampness would do to her hair. "I'm gonna have hair scare-age if I stay in that fog for too long," she mused.
Malfoy laughed. "Rather you than me, Summers. Have fun."
Buffy rocketed away, Malfoy's Comet 140 shooting past the spectators who'd already risen from their seats and were about to follow Tom down from the seating.
Corvus Flint meandered across to his Quidditch captain. "You know, she's tenacious. She'll be searching until the Gryffindors throw her off the pitch." said Corvus Flint.
Malfoy smiled.
"You never intended to offer her a place on the team, no matter how good she was. You've done this so that she'll have no choice but admit defeat."
"Perhaps I have," hedged Malfoy.
Flint laughed, showing off the gaps in his teeth. "Come off it, Abraxas. You might have fooled her, but you can't fool me. I saw you put the Snitch in your pocket just before you blew the whistle."
High above the Quidditch pitch, Buffy hovered, turning the broom slowly as she peered into the thick mist. Annoyingly, her hair was already damp. Strands dangled in front of her face, and she pushed it back, tucking it behind her ears. She was going to look like a drowned rat by the time she found the Snitch. Flying slowly, she scanned the fog, hoping to catch a glimpse of the tiny gold ball. So far she hadn't seen it and it occurred to her that, even if Malfoy was telling the truth, it could be anywhere by now.
Was the Snitch charmed to stay within the stadium? Roz would know. She'd talked about Quidditch for so long, Buffy thought her ears might drop off. What did she say about Seekers and Snitches? Vaguely she remembered something about Snitches not moving beyond the stadium barriers but often going higher, to avoid detection. Should she go back down and check the stadium first? No, while up here it made sense to check this area first.
Buffy circled the stadium, slowly spirally upward. She shivered. The higher she went, the colder it became. Belatedly, she remembered she was a Witch and had no need to shiver from the cold. She could cast a Warming Charm. A small one, not like the inferno she'd accidentally produced during her Herbology Theory lesson this week.
One moment, she Fiona and Uma were writing an essay on Snargaluffs, the next the desk burst into flames. The three of them had jumped away, a shame-faced Buffy immediately casting a Water Charm and shooting it at the flames. Around her the rest of the class were laughing and jeering, while right at the back of the classroom Penelope Parkinson was screaming hysterically.
"SILENCE!" yelled Professor Greenleaf. She hurried towards Buffy, her wand swishing as she dried away puddles and cleaned up the mess with magic. "What, in the name of Merlin and Morgana, happened here?"
"Kind of a little spell," Buffy explained, wondering why she was the only one chaotic magic happened to. "It went wrong."
"What kind of 'little spell' did you cast, Miss Summers?" the tiny witch asked. "Herbology theory is a cerebral subject; the musing of the miracles of nature and their purpose in our Magical World. I fail to see the need to set fire to your desk?"
Buffy explained she'd been cold and cast a small Warming Charm. Luckily, the professor was more sympathetic than angry and she hadn't lost any points or gotten a detention.
She shivered again. Up here, there wasn't much she could accidentally set fire to – apart from herself and the broom. Buffy decided not to risk it.
She continued circling, searching for the Snitch. The stadium was a long way below her now, and Buffy decided to do one higher sweep and then head back down to check the Stadium. The air grew even colder. She could see her breath in front of her, ice formed on her broom, and her fingers turned white with cold. When her teeth started to chatter she decided that she'd had enough. Leaning to the left she began circling downwards when something moved in her peripheral vision.
Much too big for a Snitch. Was someone else up here in the fog?
Using the back of her sleeve, she wiped the mist from her eyes and scanned the spot where the movement had been. There! She edged forward. To anyone else, the shadow would have looked like shading in the thick fog, Buffy knew better. There was something up here that wasn't human.
Vampire? It was always her first thought. Could a vampire use a broomstick? According to the textbooks, when a Witch or Wizard was turned their magical abilities changed. Magic was mainly used to hide their lairs, stun prey, and later Obliviate the memory of the attack. Professor Merrythought had been more amused than indignant when she described Muggles waking up feeling 'drained'.
A flash of a dark robe, this time beneath her.
Buffy hovered, uncertain what to do next. Although she hadn't read any of 'Hogwarts, A History,' she knew the castle and grounds were guarded by very powerful and ancient protective wards. It was one of the reasons her mom thought she'd be safe here. A vampire had no business here, so what did it want? Was it here officially? Did the Ministry know she'd killed the opera singing vampire? Had they sent a vampire to arrest her? Or was she beyond the wards and this was a common or garden bloodsucker?
Another dark swirl of robes in the fog.
"Daytime," Buffy said out loud. No bright sun but it was still not dark enough for a vampire to move about comfortably. "And not a vampire."
This didn't have the same vibes as the vampires she'd met previously. It still set her spidey-senses a tingling and gave her the wiggins. Pointing the handle of her broom towards the ground, Buffy began to descend. Despite her affinity with broomsticks, she had no experience with aerial fighting. She needed to land, and face it on firmer ground.
Another dark swirl and then a second, not far away. There was more than one creature here.
Her wand! Buffy felt like hitting herself over the head. How could she have been so stupid? She should have drawn her wand straight away. Using one hand to direct the broom, she reached down to her boot where she'd stashed her wand. Fingers numb from cold fumbled at the top of her leather boot, she touched the wand... and then... she couldn't move.
A vision, hitting her so vividly that she almost fell from the broom, played out in her head. She was in the hallway of a familiar house in Sunnydale. 1630 Revello Drive. Home. This had once been her home. There was the smell of fresh flowers, floor polish, and even a whiff of her mother's favourite perfume.
Dread, bone-chilling dread. She knew what was going to happen.
"Mom?"
The dread grew stronger. All the oxygen was being sucked from the air. She couldn't breathe!
She half-turned. Her mother lay on the couch, face upwards, her eyes staring at the ceiling, wide and unseeing. She was so cold, so very, very cold.
"Mom? Mom!"
And then she had the phone in her hand, dialling 911. Her heart breaking as she made that call. Attempting to resuscitate her mother, the sickening crunch of a rib breaking under her hand when she used too much pressure. Breathe, Mom, breathe!
Mom! Mom! Mommy!?
This wasn't happening. Panic was stopping her from getting her breath. Don't leave me! I can't deal with everything on my own! I don't wanna lose you! Mommy! They'd said the operation was a success. Why was this happening? Why couldn't her mom wake up now and tell her this was all a bad dream?
Hopelessness and desolation engulfed her. Her mom was dead and the world would never be the same place again. She didn't want to live any more... There was no oxygen, she couldn't breathe.
Buffy opened her eyes and saw, not her dead mother, but hideous figures reaching for her out of the fog. She screamed. Yanking the broom, she dropped away. A backward glance showed the creatures were chasing her. They swooped through the air, corpse-like grey arms stretched out, thin fingers curling like claws as they flew after her. The smell of decay was in the air, along with something else – despair.
Another of the creatures rose up in front of her. Dementors! Wand! Patronus! Too late!
Her mind still fogged and numb with the darkest of thoughts and memories, Buffy could only stare into the Dementor's gaping maw. The hooded being floated towards her, its face partly hidden by shadow, only the creatures gruesome mouth visible. Buffy couldn't move, she couldn't breathe – it felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the air along with all the joy. Nothing. She had nothing, no hope, no mom, no future, no strength, might as well give in...
The Slayer in Buffy, cried, "Me! I still have me!"
With all the strength she could muster, Buffy drove the broom at the creature's chest. It shrieked as the broom impaled it, an ear-piercing sound that ripped through the air and tore into her skull. Buffy covered her ears, and fell backwards. She was aware of more Dementors surrounding her before she blacked out.