"You're early," Travers commented as Buffy sat beside him on the bench.

A plate and glass appeared on the table in front of her and she paused, before taking scrambled eggs from the serving dish. She put a single spoonful on her plate and gave Travers a little one-shouldered shrug. "I got arrested last night when I was out on patrol. Slughorn wants to see me before classes."

Travers gulped down the food in his mouth without chewing it. "What?!" he hissed. "When did you start patrolling?!"

"Shush," whispered Buffy, looking around her. It was early, there were only a few at breakfast and most of them looked half-asleep. She still said, "Discretion at all times, remember?"

They were his own words, thrown back at him and Travers looked down his long nose at her and scowled. "A Slayer should not indulge in any form of Slayer activity without first informing her Watcher what she is about. At all times, a Slayer must–."

"Ah-ah-ah." Buffy wagged a warning forefinger under his nose. "We've done this already. Me, big, bad Slayer, you, little Watcher. I make all the decisions, your job is to watch, research and provide me with options."

"That isn't in the rule book," he grumbled.

There were too many bad memories lingering from her last life, and when Buffy spoke her voice was hard and unyielding. "I don't care about your book. If you don't like it, you know where the door is."

The dark boy sighed but was smart enough not to push her. "Who caught you?"

"Tom."

"Riddle?" His head spun back towards her – face panicked. "You weren't..." He shuffled along the bench, close enough so that she could smell the grease in his hair and whispered, "Did he catch you doing anything that might reveal what you are?Riddle is smart.I don't trust him. It's bad enough that Walburga knows what you are. Riddle... " He shook his head. "He's a nightmare."

Buffy stared at the centre of the table. "Tom didn't see anything Slayer-ey."

Something about the way she said it, made him ask, "Did he see anything... untoward?"

"Spikey..."

Travers groaned.

"... masquerading as Caradoc Dearborn," she finished. Then pretended to be engrossed in choosing a bacon rasher so she didn't need to look at him.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Travers threw down his knife and fork and pushed away his plate. "This is... You could be expelled! Riddle's Slughorn's favourite and if he pushes this... There's already a precedent. They expelled Newt Scamander for harbouring an unauthorised animal and endangering students."

Buffy chewed at her lip. She'd been panicking about this all night. Tom wasn't stupid, what if he figured out that the mystery person wasn't a person after all? She'd been formulating a counter-argument to use.

"One, Spikey isn't classed as an animal, he is a non-being and non-beings have never been classed as pets. Two, boggarts feed off your fear. They don't wanna kill you because dead people don't fear."

She took a deep breath. "And Tom won't report me for boggart-harbourage because he believes I was fooling around with the real Caradoc Dearborn, doing... I-don't-know-what."

"Buffy!" Walburga yelled out from the top of the table, making them both jump. "What's this about you losing us twenty points?"

The sleepy students in the hall looked over at Buffy, eyes boggling in surprise. Tom stared coldly down at her and then returned to eating his breakfast. Walburga marched right past him, striding along between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables until she reached Buffy.

Dropping down into the seat next to Buffy, she demanded, "Is it true?

"Tom caught me out after curfew."

"Is that all?" Walburga frowned. She leaned forwards, looking up to where Tom sat eating breakfast alone. "Riddle! You've deducted points off Buffy? That's a ridiculous thing to do! It isn't as if you've never sneaked out after curfew yourself."

Tom's dark eyes flicked to Buffy, then back to Walburga. "I was merely carrying out my duties as an authorised prefect. Miss Summers knows the rules and she chose to break them. There are consequences to the decisions you make in this life and she needs to learn from this." He threw down his napkin and walked away.

"Miserable sod," snapped Walburga at his departing back. "You're off my Yuletide card list!"

"He saw Buffy's boggart pretending to be Dearborn," Travers replied. He eyed the place where Tom had sat thoughtfully. "Do you think, he's afraid of Dearborn? Boggarts show themselves as your fear."

Buffy shook her head. "I doubt it." But she wondered. Did Tom have a real problem with Caradoc? He'd told her weeks ago that he didn't trust him, Caradoc had drawn his wand on him and then Tom had summoned snakes in Duelling Club.

Walburga laughed. "Spikey isn't like other boggarts. I mean, why does he keep showing up as that vampire, Spike? No one is scared of him. It isn't as if he vamps out or anything." Walburga took a bite out of the slice of toast she'd just buttered. "That's why I –. "

"...have a secret crush on him?" Buffy finished.

Walburga flashed a set of white, even teeth at her, saying, "Darling, you know that I'm a betrothed woman."

"Ha! I know that wouldn't stop you from crushing." And more than crushing, she could have added. Buffy hadn't forgotten the time she'd trailed Walburga and caught her kissing a wizard called Howard.

"I had a brainwave," Walburga said, guessing what Buffy was thinking and wanting to change the subject. "It'll cheer you up."

Travers chortled. "Hurrah! Crack open the champagne. Walburga's had a brainwave."

The look Walburga gave him was long and withering. "Travers, what shampoo do you use on your hair? No, don't tell me. Whatever it is is dire.

Isabella Bulstrode has a wonderful shampoo specially formulated to cut through grease and grime. It's worked wonders in transforming her greasy locks into glossy curls, and I'm sure it would help you as well. I shall get a bottle for you to try."

"That's kind, sharing her beauty products." Buffy commented, stirring the scrambled eggs around on her plate.

Walburga took a bite of toast and then dabbed at her lips with a napkin. "Kindness has nothing to do with it. Bulstrode won't know. I'll take the bottle when she isn't around."

"I don't want her stupid shampoo," Travers snarled. "The one I have is perfectly fine."

Walburga spluttered a laugh. "It really isn't. How do you expect anyone to take you seriously when there's enough grease sitting in your hair to fry chips?"

"Fry chips?" Travers glared at her while Walburga beamed back and sipped from her goblet delicately.

"Is this your brainwave to put me in a good mood?" Buffy asked, she pushed her breakfast away, her stomach was in knots. She couldn't eat. "I mean, giving Travers a restyle it is appreciated, but..."

Walburga laughed. "Oh, no. My idea is far more devious than that. I have a friend who works at the Ministry. He – ."

"Is his name Howard?" Buffy asked.

Walburga frowned. "I shan't give you his name. Don't ask." She went on. "My friend can get access to a certain list..." Her grey eyes were taking in Travers' and Buffy's reactions. " A list of all the vampires and werewolves registered with the Ministry and their addresses. A copy shall be made and I shall pass this list on to Buffy and then you can pick them off at your leisure."

Sometimes, the eldest Black girl was so helpful that it made Buffy want to bang her head on the table. "Are you trying to get me arrested? Turn me into a serial killer with an incriminating list? Is this how you are planning to get out of the Life Debt? By jailing me?"

Walburga looked perfectly scandalised. "I'm trying to help! Travers explained that you are the 'Chosen One' and have duties to perform." She waved a hand nonchalantly. "Who cares if a vampire vanishes? No one cares about eradicating doxies from your upholstery or if you kick a few gnomes in the head and kill them. They consider it as a pest extermination. And once you've done with them, I have a list of people that I dislike. You can take those out... while you're at it."

"While I'm at it?" Buffy was horrified. "I can't just go around, killing people... because... because you don't like them!"

Travers had recovered from being insulted enough to say, "Walburga, the Ministry hunts down those who illegally kill their registered vampires and werewolves."

Walburga threw up her hand in dismissal and shook her head. "I only wanted to help!"

"That's as may be," Travers replied. "However, we need to tread lightly. That said, I'd appreciate that list if you can get it. Once we know who and where the registered vampires are, we can avoid them and Buffy can just pick off the un-registered ones."

Walburga looked unhappy,

"I'm focussing on a different kind of picking off at the moment. A being not on the Ministry's list."

Walburga and Travers looked at each other, and then at her.

"Dementors," Buffy explained. "I met a fairy who – ."

"Fairies are all idiots," snapped Walburga, looking distinctly unimpressed. "I haven't met one yet who isn't vain and empty headed. The only thing they're good for is posing on top of the Christmas trees."

"Oh, I don't mean the twinkly type." Buffy was wishing she'd skipped this part. "Rory is... like a big fairy."

Travers raised an eyebrow. "How big?"

"Phouka size?"

"You've met a Pook? I thought those things had vanished centuries ago." Walburga wrinkled her aristocratic nose. "If the stories are true, the Fae are trouble."

Buffy nodded. "Yep. Mucho dangerous, but not to Slayers. Rory... he owes me."

"How?" asked Walburga, intrigued.

Travers merely stared at her. Like her, he'd known more about demons than the Fae.

Buffy shrugged. "Long story. It's like a magical debt."

Walburga narrowed her eyes. "Anything to do with blood? Or did he get you to swear an oath?"

Buffy thought she was joking at first, then realised she was very serious. "I sort of... bested him?"

The older girl looked relieved. "Good. Don't make any vague promises with him. If he wants you to swear an oath, say you want a solicitor and it has to be put in writing and witnessing. They hate that."

"Umm, okay. He knows a way to trap and kill Dementors. He's gonna help –." She'd glanced over at the teacher's table, saw Professor Slughorn's empty chair, and let out a squeak."What time is it?!"

Travers checked his watch. "Almost eight."

Buffy was on her feet and grabbing her school bag. "Crap! I was due in Sluggy's office at eight. Gotta go." And she scuttled off.

Once she'd gone, Walburga played with her fork and then asked, "How long do you think she'll get detention for?"

Travers replied, "I'm more worried that they prove she's keeping a boggart as a pet and is expelled."

Walburga smirked. "They won't. Spikey is too smart to be captured. Do you know what I'm thinking?"

Travers' lip curled. "Your thought patterns are a complete mystery to me."

"I think she'll turn on the charm and leave Slughorn's office with his apology and without a single detention."

…...

In Slughorn's office, Tom stood by Professor Slughorn's desk while Slughorn nursed a steaming mug of coffee by the fireplace. Tom tried to keep his body relaxed, but inwardly he was frustrated. The Head of House was more annoyed Tom had taken house points from Buffy, rather than angry the girl had broken curfew to meet her Gryffindor boyfriend.

Tom tried again. This time, he'd appeal to the chivalrous nature that Slughorn displayed every so often. "Sir," he began. "Could Caradoc Dearborn be luring Miss Summers out into an isolated area in order to ravish her?"

Slughorn only shook his head. "Tom... Tom..."

Tom winced, that sounded too close to the name Tom-Tom that Buffy occasionally used.

"While I have no idea why Buffy was out, I do know that it wasn't to meet Dearborn."

"But... I saw him." Tom protested. Somehow Dearborn had given him the slip. Why wouldn't Slughorn believe that the Gryffindor had been there? Normally, the Potions professor would have taken his word for it.

Slughorn put down his cup on the mantelpiece. "It can't have been Dearborn."

"Are there witnesses who saw him asleep, in his bed?" Tom asked, his frown deepening. Buffy had thought it funny when he'd searched for Dearborn in front of her. She'd claimed he'd be found in bed – dreaming of her.

Slughorn lifted his coat tails up and toasted himself on the roaring fire. "I have spoken to Professor Dumbledore. He assures me that Dearborn was not there."

Tom wanted to say that he didn't trust Dumbledore, that he'd say anything to keep his Gryffindors out of trouble, and that he was prejudiced against the other Houses. It wouldn't go down well and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself.

"You see, Tom, Dearborn was in the Astronomy Tower with Professor Brightly last night. They'd asked him to help with a first year class. Some of them had been struggling with the basics and he was helping Professor Brightly between eleven-thirty until one am."

The news surprised Tom. He knew he'd seen someone with Buffy. He hadn't imagined it! Of course, it had been dark and he hadn't got a close look, but he would have sworn it was Dearborn. He'd stalked the 6th former enough times to recognise him, even in dim light. It must be him! He was always pawing and whispering to Buffy. They'd done something. Played a trick on him to make him look stupid in front of Slughorn. No one made a fool out of him without paying the consequences. Dearborn would pay for this.

Suddenly aware that Professor Slughorn was watching him closely. Tom quickly changed his dismayed expression to what he called his 'innocently, confused face'.

"I am sorry, Sir. I really did think it was Dearborn." He had to say it, knowing Slughorn wouldn't believe him over Dumbledore and Brightly. There was nothing for it but to take matters into his own hands. He shrugged, adding embarrassment to his performance. "I assumed she was meeting a boy. Perhaps, it was a shadow I saw on the stairs..."

To his horror, Slughorn winked. "Don't be too harsh on yourself, Tom. I've seen how you look at Miss Summers. She's a pretty girl and Dearborn is clearly setting himself up to be your rival..."

Tom froze. Oh, for Merlin's sake! He was a master at hiding his true emotions and yet... he wasn't able to hide this foolish weakness?

Slughorn was smiling now, a knowing smile. Tom had the urge to fling a Knock-Back Jinx at him, sending him tumbling into the fire and then firing off a Fixing Charm to hold him there.

Did he think this amusing? Let him burn!

Then, whilst fantasizing about Slughorn screaming for mercy as he roasted, there was a tentative knock on the door. It opened slowly, and Buffy poked her head around it. She spotted Tom and gave him a tentative smile.

Tom's heart lurched and his brain stuttered – dark fantasy forgot.

"Is Professor Slughorn here?" she asked. "I'm running a little late."

Tom didn't answer. His eyes were on her lips and his brain hadn't yet started functioning.

"What's up?" She wiped her chin with the back of her hand. "Have I got crumbs on my face? You're doing the staring thing."

"Professor Slughorn is over there." Tom glanced at Slughorn and saw from the fat professor's face that he was seeing far too much. Silently cursing his foolish hormones and his magic for developing an affinity for hers, he looked away – feeling betrayed.

"Come in, come in, Miss Summers. Don't stand out there! No, don't stay by the door. Come over to the fire so that I might look at you." Professor Slughorn called out. "Tom has been telling me all about this little jaunt you took. "

Jaunt? "Buffy broke the rules by defying the curfew," Tom exclaimed as Buffy passed him.

She threw him a sharp look and then turned to face the professor. "Tom's right. I am guilty of rule break-ages. I snuck out. I have a reason!"

"Were you sneaking out to rescue someone from imminent death? Has Grindelwald assaulted the castle?"

"Um, no."

Professor Slughorn rocked on his heels. "Hogwarts is a dangerous place at night, Buffy. It is an ancient castle with many traps for the unwary. It is not a playground to be explored at whim."

Tom watched as Buffy batted her eyelashes, somehow appearing smaller and frailer, than she was.

"I'm sorry," she said sweetly. "I know I did wrong, but... I don't know if Professor Dumbledore spoke about it to you... but after the accident I got amnesia. I started having flashback and saw Professor Trelawney about it..."

"I do know," replied Slughorn gently. "However, I don't see how this excuses you being out after curfew?"

"Um." Buffy shot Tom an unreadable look under her lashes.

Tom snorted softly, unimpressed.

"I have insomnia." Tears welled up in her eyes. " And... and when I do sleep, I have these nightmares. Horrible ones were monsters chase me, my mom dies and I fall off towers and die." She shuddered – it didn't look feigned to Tom. "I find walking around helps my brain to settle."

There was silence in the room; the fire spat, and from somewhere in the corridor came the sound of a student shouting another student's name. Slughorn looked upset, Buffy sniffed, and Tom watched, unsure what to make of it.

"I can make you a potion," suggested Slughorn. "It will give you a dreamless sleep."

"A sleeping potion?" Buffy shook her head. "What happens if there was a fire? I wouldn't wake up. I'd die. It's just another thing to worry about."

"Nevertheless, this wandering the castle at night alone can't continue. You must promise me this will never happen again."

"I promise."

Her promise came too quickly and too easily, Tom thought. He would never trust anyone who made a promise made like that. In his opinion, it needed to be more binding, she needed to say the official words and she should swear it. It seemed Slughorn thought differently. The gullible fool.

"Very well. Since, you've given me your word..."

'She hasn't!'

"Nothing more shall be said about it."

What?! Give her detention!

"I shall, however, expect you to work doubly hard to make up for all the points you've lost our House."

Buffy smiled at Slughorn. Her smile so dazzling the room seemed brighter for it. "Thank you, professor. I'll study to do better, instead of just... wandering. That's a Girl Scout promise."

You aren't a girl scout!

But Slughorn looked at that golden smile and believed her. And then Buffy turned that golden smile onto Tom, amusement in her eyes as she sweetly cooed, "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Tom."

Tom was not fooled. He silently seethed.

….

A/N

thanks to all who reviewed on the last chapter. Don't forget to comment on this if you liked it. Each one is appreciated !

Don't forget to read The Squib. My other story about Joyce and Grindelwald and her efforts to keep her daughter from him.