Dementors and Dumbledore.
"I always prescribe chocolate after a Dementor attack." The nurse took out a full bar of chocolate from her starched apron pocket and handed it to Buffy.
With a smile that lit up the room, Buffy ripped the wrapper off and moaned as the chocolate melted in her mouth.
Madam Bones grinned. "Eat it all. No saving any for later."
Not that she would. Buffy broke off an even larger piece and crammed it in her mouth, mentally thanking Honeydukes for creating the best chocolate she'd ever tasted. As she bit down on the milky goodness, Madam Bones ran a series of diagnostic tests over her head. Golden runes hovered in the air and Buffy looked up, interpreting them almost as fast as the nurse did. Runes came easy to her, surprising everyone around her who thought they were difficult. She guessed all the research she'd done in the library with Giles in her past life had somehow sunk in and stayed in her memory.
"I'm totally fine," she protested as the nurse went to shine a light in her eyes. She stuffed the last e of the chocolate into her mouth, jerked her head away, and flung the bed covers back. "The runes say I'm good to go and that's what I'm gonna do."
"Runes? You're going nowhere until I say so, young lady!" replied the nurse. She gave Buffy a little push and Buffy reluctantly got into bed and the nurse tucked her in. "Is this about me? Whenever I see you, you're in a haste to get away."
Buffy half-pouted and half-scowled at her. "It isn't personal. I told you before, I don't like hospitals... They smell funny."
Madam Bones' lips twitched and she put away her wand. "That's as may be, but since you've made a habit out of needing my help, you'll need to get used to the infirmary. First the Grindylows and now Dementors, whatever were you thinking? Most young girls keep away from those creatures, you... well, you seem to run at them without thinking of the consequences... "
Buffy looked at her lap as the nurse lectured her in her soft Scottish brogue. She fiddled with the blanket on her bed. It was red. The Slytherin colours were green and silver, so shouldn't it be a green one to represent who she was? Ugh! And when had she been brainwashed into thinking everything around her had to be green and silver?If she wasn't careful,she'd start working her ass off to gain house points, and cheering whenever the Slytherins won the House Cup.
"Buffy?"
Buffy looked up, to find Nurse Bones still hovering by her bed.
"First you drove off a swarm of Grindylows, and now you've brought down a Dementor. However do you manage it?"
Buffy swallowed, wondering how to explain. Somehow, she thought that telling the truth – 'Hey! I'm a slayer back from extinction courtesy of a dark spell collision. Beside tearing water demons apart with my bare hands and staking a dark entity, I've hunted and killed vampires, which is against Ministry rules. Arrest me now, Azkaban, here I come,' – wouldn't go down all that well.
The silence lengthened. Buffy was hesitant to say anything. She understood, now, why Lovell had kept warning her about prison - Dementors would be truly horrible jailers. Eventually, she replied, "I'm not sure... I guess...I'm kinda stubborn or, maybe, plain stupid. I didn't know there were Grindylows in the lake, and I didn't know the Dementors were up there until one popped up in front of me."
She was a real crappy witch. Anyone else would have cast a Patronus and driven the Dementors off, and, as a Slayer, she'd been worse. What kind of Slayer zoned out when she was in a nest of demon creepies? She hadn't sensed them when they were nearby, all she'd felt was...
"Cold. I felt so cold up there..." Buffy shivered as she remembered exactly what happened up there. She didn't even notice when the nurse took the blanket from the bottom of her bed and placed it around her shoulders.
She went on, "I didn't realise the chill was a sign the Dementors were closing in, I thought it was normal weather for Scotland." She should have known. Would she recognise the signs next time? Learn fast or die fast. The last Slayer-Witch had lived a long life and Buffy had always been competitive, she wasn't ready to die just yet... And thinking of death and dying led her to that last vision.
"I saw my mom," she said to the nurse, her eyes filling with tears. "She was... dead."
The nurse's face softened. "Oh no, Buffy, you mustn't think so! That's what the Dementors do, they suck the joy from your life, leaving you feeling hollowed out and listless. The chocolate will help boost the spirit, but what your body needs is a good solid meal and plenty of rest." She waved her wand, summoning a blood replenishing potion, and then poured five drops out into a teaspoon.
Buffy reluctantly drank it. "That didn't taste bad," she said in surprise.
The nurse recapped the bottle and flicked her wand, sending it back to the table.
"I've had visions before," she said, her mind going back to the attack. "But this time it felt so real to me."
If she concentrated, she could still smell the flowers in the hallway, feel the weight of the phone in her hand as she dialled 911, and hear the snap of her mom's rib as she pressed on her chest whilst trying to resuscitate her. The Joyce Summers who'd died that day had been her mom and the grief she'd felt was only too real. Chocolate was comforting, but it couldn't dispel that kind of deep sadness.
"I came back to the house and mom was lying on the couch. I didn't see her at first, I just kept calling for her... I just thought she was upstairs in one of the bedrooms or out the back." She could still see it playing out in her mind's eye...
The operator had told her to try resuscitating her... Why? Why had she even tried? She'd seen death enough times to know when someone had gone.
The mattress dipped as Madam Bones sat on the bed. "Buffy, your mother is alive and well. What if... What if, I ask the Headmaster if you might use the floo to call her? I'm sure he'll approve – in the circumstances."
Buffy's face brightened. "Really? Really, you'd do that for me?" If she could hear her mom's voice, it would dispel the melancholy she felt.
The nurse nodded and stood up.
"What happened to the Dementor?" Buffy asked. She'd learned in her DADA class that there was no known way of killing Dementors. "I didn't have time to cast a Patronus and sorta... mowed it down with Malfoy's broom. Is it..." she felt suddenly anxious, realising what she'd done could land her in trouble, "...is it okay?"
"You mustn't worry over that! It was a good piece of quick thinking," Madam Bones soothed. "It fell into the stadium and Professor Dumbledore secured it while Tom and Caradoc brought you in here."
The nurse moved to stand by the potion table and began looking through the collection of small bottles. Buffy eyed her warily, hoping she wouldn't find another she needed to take.
"When you say 'secure it', what do you mean?" Buffy asked, wondering where Dumbledore had taken it? Had he brought it into the castle? Or had he left it outside somewhere?
"Professor Dumbledore took it to a safe place, where it can stay until someone from the Ministry collects it."
Buffy frowned. "Why would the broom need to be in a secure place, and what will the Ministry want Abraxas' broom for? To check for... Dementor juice? Ectoplasm?"
The nurse turned, her mouth open. "Ectoplasm? The broom? Why would..?" She shook her head, tutting to herself. "I see. We're talking of different things. You borrowed the broom from Abraxas, and are concerned because it isn't yours and you need to return it?"
Buffy nodded.
"Dumbledore never mentioned what happened to the broom." The nurse picked up a small bottle and poured two drops onto a spoon. "Open wide!" She chuckled when Buffy made a face and grudgingly opened her mouth. She quickly poured it in before the girl changed her mind. "See, that wasn't so bad."
Buffy made a gagging face. "Honestly? It was. Can I have more chocolate to take away the taste?"
"No, it'll spoil your meal. I'll speak to the Headmaster about your call and return shortly. If the elf appears with your food, be sure to eat it all."
"You want me to eat a full elf?" joked Buffy.
The nurse laughed, slipped through the cubicle curtains, and pattered off into the distance. As her footsteps died away, Spikey left his hiding spot under the bed and hovered in the air in front of Buffy.
The Slayer lifted a finger, telling him to wait, as she cocked her head and listened. Someone was snoring in one of the other beds, two boys passed the door to the infirmary talking in low voices of Potions homework, and from outside the castle came the sound of children laughing. Buffy's human senses told her that the only other occupant of the room was asleep, but the tickle of magic on her Slaydar told her someone else was around.
Annoyed at being ignored for so long, Spikey circled Buffy's head, faster and faster until she signalled him to stop.
"Stay out of sight," Buffy warned quietly.
The boggart backed away, taking cover amongst the fabric of the bed curtain.
Hoping it would turn out to be the elf with a tray, Buffy called out, "I know you're there! Why don't you come and say 'hi'?"
When no one appeared, Buffy closed her eyes, using her slayer senses to reach out and sense...
Magic!
Someone with very powerful magic was out there. Who was it? Had someone besides the Dementor breached Hogwarts' wards? Slowly and quietly, Buffy pushed the bedding away from her legs and looked around for a weapon. Her wand was on the side table! She snatched it up; immediately feeling better with a weapon.
"Hey, you out there! I'm gonna give you three seconds to show yourself," Buffy called, "After that, if you're still going skulker on the opposite side of the curtain, I'll cast a fireball at you. I'm warning you, I've had a really bad day and I'm not in the mood for jokers. There's no telling what will come out my wand when I feel like this. I could cast a spark as feeble as a match head, or the entire room could go up in flames. You've gotta ask yourself, are you feeling lucky?"
The curtains moved and Professor Dumbledore appeared, his face grave as he entered the small curtained space.
"Do you always threaten visitors, Miss Summers?" His eyes went to her wand. "I believe it's safe now to put your wand away. Unless, of course, you intend to be a good hostess and summon a pot of tea and biscuits? After dealing with the consequences of your try-out this morning, I'm feeling rather thirsty and a little peckish."
Buffy gave him a sour look and tucked the wand under the sheets next to her.
"Ah, I suppose that means I'll be summoning my own tea and biscuits."
"You can always ask Legolas to bring you some when he turns up with my dinner," muttered Buffy. She didn't buy his 'I'm only a visitor' excuse. She'd stake her reputation as a Slayer on Dumbledore hiding behind the curtains throughout her talk with the nurse.
The Deputy Headmaster hovered by her bed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Was there more than one Dementor above Hogwarts, Buffy?"
"You were listening!" Her mouth turned down. "Do you always eavesdrop on private conversations?"
Instead of answering, he drew out a spotted handkerchief from his pocket, threw it on the floor and transfigured it into a comfy, wing-backed armchair.
"I so could do that," Buffy muttered.
"Not yet, but I'm sure it won't be beyond you, once you've been taught," he replied with a smug smirk. "What gave my presence away? I'd used a Disillusionment Charm and mine are considered exceptionally powerful."
"You're a heavy breather." Buffy folded her arms and stared back. "Why do you expect me to answer your questions when you don't answer mine."
"Sometimes a teacher needs answers far more than his students do. Not to mention," he smiled again, attempting to take the sting from his words, "that I'm older than you, I'm your teacher, and hence you should show respect."
"Maybe you should have thought about respect, sir," she drawled, "before eavesdropping on a private conversation." How dare he listen in! "Respect goes two ways. Just because someone's older than you doesn't mean they automatically deserve respect, nor does age bring wisdom... sir." Because, how many centuries old vampires were totally stupid, and deserved a sharp visit from Mr Pointy?
Dumbledore wasn't put out by her comments in the slightest. "Regarding my listening to your conversation... it was done not out of disrespect, but from concern for your health and also the safety of others in Hogwarts. Don't you realise, that Dementors are a threat to the entire school?"
"Um, yeah."
Deflated, Buffy dropped her fierce gaze. Dumbledore wasn't just some stupid adult she could run rings around. He was a highly intelligent man who really cared about his students and yet wasn't above using sneaky, underhand methods to get his own way. What if he asked awkward questions? She needed to tread carefully, Dumbledore would never suspect she was a slayer and she needed to keep it that way.
Buffy peeked from under her lashes and froze. Behind Dumbledore's head, Spikey had emerged from the curtains. The boggart wore a mischievous expression, that meant... Her eyes widened.
He was going to turn into Dumbledore's worse fear!
"Nooo!" she cried and shook her head at the boggart.
Alarmed and confused, Dumbledore leapt to his feet. "Buffy?! Whatever is wrong?"
Behind Dumbledore's back, Spikey gave a wide, sharp-toothed grin and slid back between the folds of fabric.
"Umm, I don't feel well," she replied. It wasn't a lie. The thought of how much chaos he would cause if he went Grindelwald on Dumbledore, made her nauseous. "I thought I was gonna puke." With luck, he'd be disgusted and leave.
Dumbledore didn't look as concerned as she'd hoped. "Ah, no doubt, that is caused by the lack of food. That is something that I can remedy."
He swished his wand. There was a sharp crack and a small creature with enormous ears appeared grasping a tray laden with plates of food. When it realised both Dumbledore and Buffy were staring at it, it cowered – covering its eyes with its large ears.
"Ah, it's Tiptoes, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked in a gentle voice.
The creature nodded, not daring to show its eyes. "Tiptoes is very sorry for being late, Master Dumbledore. Tiptoes was given the great honour of serving Mistress Trelawney, but when Tiptoes got to the tower classroom the mistress wasn't there. Tiptoes then went to mistress' bedroom and she wasn't there either. That's when Tiptoes remembered to check Mistress' office and there she found Mistress Trelawney crawling on the floor, looking for her glasses.
Tiptoes told the mistress she'd be pleased to join in the search. She placed the tray on her desk, exactly where Mistress Trelawney tells Tiptoes to put her tray in the past." She shuddered. "Bad, bad Tiptoes didn't put it in the proper position. The nice mistress knocked it off with her head and hurt herself. Tiptoes cleaned up the mess, went back to the kitchen to prepare another tray for the mistress and then readied Miss Buffy's tray."
Its huge ears had drooped on either side of its head, and its large eyes darted from Buffy to Dumbledore.
"Tiptoes is very late with young miss' tray. Miss is very ill. Should Tiptoes punish herself? Should she go back to the kitchen and ask one of the other elves to hit her repeatedly with the rolling pin?"
"Huh?" Buffy asked, shocked. "Why would you do that?"
"There is no need for any punishment. There's no harm done," Dumbledore reassured the young elf.
The small creature looked disappointed. "If you please, Master Dumbledore, I'll serve the young miss now."
Dumbledore stepped back, hooking up a teacup and saucer from the tray as the little creature passed. It blinked its round eyes at him before placing the heavy tray onto Buffy's lap and vanishing before she had the chance to thank it.
"She is an odd little creature," Dumbledore said, sitting down and sipping the tea. "She was born to an elf living in rather difficult circumstances and forced to leave as soon as she grew old enough. Have you met one before?"
Buffy, who'd just forked a large piece of steak pie into her mouth, had to chew and swallow before answering. She waved her fork at him and replied, "Only their heads."
He regarded her quizzically, and she explained, "It was while I visited Grimmauld Place. There's a row of them on the stairs. Lovell told me they aren't slaves, but they seem a bit... unfree?"
"It's a rather complicated arrangement. As a species they like to serve others and quickly pine away if the family asks them to leave. Hogwarts has a large number working here.. Tiptoes only started this term; she's quite young."
"Someone should give her better clothing. Why would anyone wear a tea towel with a hole in it?" Buffy asked, taking a bite out of a buttered roll.
"Ah, that's for her head to go through," Dumbledore replied with an innocent expression.
Buffy stopped eating and gave him a hard look. "Don't give up the day job, Professor. I've met Dementors with better jokes."
Like a cat pouncing on an overconfident mouse, Dumbledore grinned. "Ah, how nice of you to bring the subject back up! Tell me more about the Dementors you met. What happened up there? For the sake of student safety, I need you to give me as much information as possible."
"Okay..." She didn't like the thought of another student running into a Dementor any more than Dumbledore did.
"Abraxas sent me to look for the Snitch. He said that if I found it, I could have a place on the team." She looked at Dumbledore sourly. "Not that I've time to play Quidditch. Not since you and mom fixed it so that my schedule was so full, my head is in danger of brain-fry."
"Joyce told me she is keen for you have a good, all-round education," he replied diplomatically.
"Having fun should also be a big part of a teenager's curriculum," she answered pertly. "Instead, I'm underground with Grindylows banging on my bedroom window and writing foot long essays on scrolls with a sharp feather. There should be more shopping, fun nights, and cute boys in my life."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. "If we can assure ourselves that the Dementors are no longer a threat, I'm sure an early trip to Hogsmeade can be arranged for the students who've helped."
"No pressure, then." The promise of a shopping trip made her feel better. "Yeah, so... I was looking for the Snitch. I circled higher and higher. I don't know how high because... y'know, fog. One minute I was flying, and searching, the next, the thing from Scream was in front of me. The only thing that came into my head was hitting it with the broom. Then two more tried to get all intimate... I was lucky, I slipped out their grasp and don't remember anything else."
"And you have no idea how you managed to escape their clutches?" Dumbledore's eyes bore into her, and she felt a familiar brain-nudge.
Mentally, she pushed back. "You think I'm lying about the Dementors? I'm not!"
He had the decency to look ashamed. "Sorry, force of habit. The ability to sense a lie or a truth is a useful weapon in a teacher's arsenal."
Buffy supposed it would be. "I'm glad I never become a Gryffindor. The Hat considered it, and I said nope, not going there."
Disappointment flashed across Dumbledore's face, quickly hidden behind a more amiable - if watchful – expression.
"The hat also considered Hufflepuff but I told it no as well." Buffy felt bad. Several times during the summer he'd expressed the hope she'd be sorted into his House. It wasn't as if he was a Snyder, he was much nicer...
Snyder? Who was Snyder?
"You don't strike me as a Hufflepuff," Dumbledore mused, staring down at his cup.
"I didn't want to be in Slytherin either, but the hat shouted the name before I could stop it."
He grinned at that, seeming to find the idea of her telling the hat where she wanted to go amusing. "Buffy, even if you'd been sorted into my House, I'm sure 'you'd' find a way to break the rules without me knowing." He winked at her teasingly.
Was he accusing her? "I haven't broken any rules!" she protested. It wasn't strictly true. She'd broken a few smaller ones: like damaging the door that led to the out-of-bounds roof, breaking curfew on a nightly basis, and there'd been that small fire in the library.
"I never said you had," Dumbledore agreed in such a sweet tone that it made Buffy feel uncomfortable.
Behind the professor, the curtain moved again. Buffy caught a glimpse of Spikey's eye protruding from a gap. Not wanting to encourage the boggart, Buffy quickly looked away from him. Yeah, another broken rule; boggarts weren't down on the list as permitted pets and she'd enlisted Lovell's help to smuggle him into Hogwarts. She had no idea where he went when he wasn't with her.
She risked a quick glance at Dumbledore. The Wizard was swirling the last of his tea around in his cup and staring at it blindly. What was he thinking about?
"You had a vision before the Dementor appeared?" he asked out the blue.
It threw her. "Well... It wasn't really a vision."
"How would you describe it?"
She took her time, taking a few bites of food as she thought over how to describe her zone-outs. Maybe, she should get help with this? Having an inappropriately-timed vision like the one today could kill her. "I keep doing this zoning out thing. It's no big. But it's, kind of, annoying."
Dumbledore's face was full of concern. Encouraged, Buffy continued, "After I lost my memory I started having... I guess you could call them flashbacks about what happened in a former life"
His face dropped. It wasn't what he'd expected to hear.
"The Divination Professor talks of 'rare visionaries' like her mom was and that Dark Wizard, Grindelwald. That's not me. Mine are relics from a past life, not foretellings."
"What makes you draw that conclusion?" Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched her intently. Buffy bit into the bread roll and chewed it as she thought over the question.
"Because I'm me and I died." She wasn't going to tell him how, how many times, or why. "And this time, it was my... mom who was dead. It happened just to me before the first Dementor appeared." Grief nagged at her like a phantom limb, but the food she ate was helping her body if not her soul. Which was a good thing. She needed all her wits around her when dealing with Dumbledore.
"Reincarnation," he said. "Both the Muggles and the Wizards have many beliefs regarding to what happens to the soul after death. Reincarnation is just one theory put forward and many believe death is just the next big adventure."
Buffy felt glad he was taking it seriously. Mrs Cole would have sent her to a shrink and she'd have ended up modelling straitjackets. The Magical World must be a lot more open and accepting than the Muggle one.
"At what point in history did you live?" Dumbledore asked, sounding fascinated by her disclosure. "Any details? Who were you, and where did you live?"
Most of the flashbacks were about fighting demons and her deaths. Horrific and gory, and not something she could tell him about.
"I think," she replied, "it is sometime in the future. I look like me, my name is still Buffy Summers, and I lived in Sunnydale, California."
Her answer puzzled Dumbledore. "Surely if it is the future, that makes you a Seer? The girl you keep seeing could be a future representation of you. A vision is rarely clear-cut, most are shrouded in mystery and ambiguity." Then he added, "The ability to see the future is one that runs strongly in families."
His face shuttered, as if he remembered something painful and Buffy wondered what it was. She hoped it was nothing to do with her. "I'm not a Seer," she refuted. "I don't think I lived here – in this reality. Time moves differently in different dimensions. There's a lot more than one."
"Is there? How do you know?"
"A Vengeance Demon told me." She cringed. Crap! Why had she said told him that?
"It was in a book! Yeah! It was a book about... demons! It's called..." She needed to think of a title so it sounded convincing... "Oh, yeah, 'A Demonology of The Dastardly'! Yep! That's it. Because no one knows a Vengeance demon personally to talk to," she laughed and continued, "And who would want to know about all those worlds without shrimp, anyway?" She bit her lip. Shut up Buffy, you're babbling!
"Shrimp?"
She waved the question away. "Really, it was just something I read."
"In a book at your uncle's house? Next time I meet him, I'll ask if I can borrow it. Demonology books are very rare, and not something I'd expect a Lovegood to own."
"No! You can't ask him!"
He definitely thought she'd lost it, now.
"He hasn't got it. The book was at the orphanage..." she stopped. What if Dumbledore went to the orphanage and asked Mrs Cole if he could see the book?
Dumbledore pounced again. "Was this one of Tom's books?" He looked suspicious.
Oh crap, he'd ask Tom for the book! "No, it belonged to the grocer." She hated lying, she knew she wasn't much good at it. It had been bad enough being Secret-Identity Girl in her last life, here she had mind-reading Wizards to contend with.
Sensing her agitation, Spikey flew from the curtain and hovered behind Dumbledore, giving him dirty looks. Pretending to straighten her hair, Buffy waved a hand to send him back. Dumbledore hadn't been a teacher for so long that he couldn't read the signs. Narrowing his eyes, he shot a look over his shoulder. Luckily he missed seeing Spikey by a fraction of a second.
"It was a stray Wrackspurt," said Buffy, comfortable in the knowledge Dumbledore didn't have the Fourth Sight. "I can sometimes see them without my Spectrespecs."
"Hmm." He didn't believe her and it was obvious. "Well, returning to the subject of your visions, perhaps you should speak to Professor Trelawney if they are distressing you?"
Buffy cringed, and the side of his mouth twitched. "I'm sure she can help, Buffy. Despite her odd ways, there are true Seers in her family. Some of them... have methods to help them direct and control their visions."
"She totally wigs me out," Buffy admitted. "I think I'd rather ask Grindelwald."
Professor Trelawney was scary. Not in a Big Bad, kill-it-now-before-it-goes-on-a-murderous-rampage type of scary. It was more the way her eyes goggled behind her thick lenses and how she forecast the death of every student who entered her classroom. She'd only had a few classes with her so far and managed to escape the teacher's notice by using slayer deception skills to slink into the classroom – and by sitting right at the back of the class and not asking questions. "I'm thinking of dropping Divination," she said. "I find it kinda creepy the way people keep seeing crosses and graves in teacups. I'm gonna insist on drinking only coffee from now on."
"Speak to her first," Dumbledore advised. He rose to his feet, transfigured the chair back into his hankie and pocketed it. "Sadly, I must leave you, now. I need to floo to the Ministry and let them know a team is needed here to search for the other Dementors."