A/N;

this isn't the Tom and Buffy fight. It is the first part of the chapter. I am down with flue, poss covid and feeling terrible. I thought I'd edit the first part and post so that you had something to read.

No beta. I am sure there are plenty of mistakes as I can barely concentrate on the screen.

Thanks for reading.

Never kill a boy on a first date prt1

On Friday morning, Buffy headed to the library. She passed the main students' study area and turned into a maze of tall stacks, going deeper and deeper into an older section of Charms. Earlier that week, she'd found a book here called 'The Book Of Uncommon Spells' and inside it an unusual Anti-Tracking Charm.

Yesterday, she'd spent her entire lunch hour turning her father's necklace into a Charmed object and when the Deathly Hallows pendant glowed green, she panicked. There'd been no mention of freaky green glows in the chapter! Worried that she'd done something wrong, she'd had to wait until evening before testing it out.

Buffy had stood outside the library – her eyes shut – while Lovell took off wearing her necklace. Once he'd been gone long enough, she'd taken his tie from her pocket and cast a Tracking Charm onto it. The tie rose into the air, circled briefly overhead, then fell – impotently – to the ground.

That meant the Anti-Tracking Charm had worked! Of course, she still needed to find Lovell and since she had no idea where he'd gone, spent most of the evening looking for him. Eventually, she'd found him, seated at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall completely engrossed in his moth magazine.

"Lovell! I've been looking for you!"

Lovell had shot her a confused look from beneath a tangle of unruly curls. "Isn't that what you were supposed to be doing?" He unclipped the Deathly Hallows necklace and handed it over to her. "If you found me so easily, it can't have worked."

"So easily?! I've been all over the castle looking for you. The Tracking Charm didn't work!" She'd been annoyed with herself. Why hadn't she looked in here straight away? It was so obvious he'd either be here or sitting in the library.

But despite wasting an entire evening looking for her cousin, the experiment had been a great success. Now, all she needed was to find a Disillusionment spell that allowed her to sneak past the prefects. It needed to be something strong; something that an ordinary Finite couldn't break – and that's why she was here, searching the shelves in the older section.

Her father (the Dark Wizard, not Hank) had used a good Disillusionment Charm to follow her through London. Buffy paused, an idea coming into her head. Maybe I should write him? It made her smile. She could just picture the letter. 'Dear Dad, please send full details of all your best Evading Detection Spells. I want to stop the boys from stalking me.'

Not that she could; he was a typical dead-beat dad and hadn't left a forwarding address. How was she supposed to get in touch? Stare into the mirror and say his name three times?

She moved deeper into the stacks. The older books were kept here, obsolete textbooks, spells that were either defunct or were no longer part of the curriculum. Her fingers trailed along the book spines. Occasionally, she'd pull one out and flick through the pages. There had to be something here. Some of the older books quivered when she touched them, others bristled – angry at being disturbed. She'd noticed the first time she'd come here that ancient magic books acted differently from the newer ones. Unlike other books they didn't just become warped and gnarly, they become self-aware. Some of the really old ones had long chains fixing them to the shelves to stop them from flying off – exploring.

Back in Sunnydale, the books hadn't acted this way. Even the creepiest, darkest magic books just got smellier and more fragile, and certain people (Giles) shouted if they weren't treated respectfully enough.

Buffy stopped at the Warding section. "Can you Ward a person?" The books stared back at her, eyeless and silent.

Warding was amazing. It wasn't an OWL requirement, but she'd already done extra reading on the subject and liked to sprinkle her essays with bits of knowledge for extra credit. It was a vast subject. They'd cover more at NEWT level, but even then, she knew they'd only be scraping the surface. If you wanted to learn Warding, you took up an apprenticeship with a Wardmaster once you'd graduated. Buffy had even looked the career up. A good Wardmaster was fluent in all forms of runes, knew geography, geology, and astronomy, and was able to discern ley lines. Whoever had created the Wards around Hogwarts must have been a real master.

"I wonder if I can make myself Unplottable, like Hogwarts?"

"You can't."

"Caradoc!" Buffy squeaked. She'd become so engrossed, she hadn't noticed his approach.

Caradoc moved across to where she stood, scanning the books she'd been looking through. "A person cannot be made unplottable, it needs to be a building or a section of land – like the great Dragon Reserves. There needs to be fixed geographical positions to tie the anchor runes to." His face, only inches from hers, regarded her thoughtfully. "A statues could be made unplottable. Are you thinking of transfiguring yourself into a statue?"

Buffy's eyes dropped to the lazy curve of his lips and quickly shook her head.

"In that case..." His arm brushed against hers as he slid one of the books from the shelf. "This one explains the theory best. Chapter 42, I believe." He handed her the heavy tome.

"Um, thanks." Buffy dropped the book onto her book pile and then sat on the study ledge, swinging her legs and watching him.

"Is there a reason you want to be Unplottable?" Caradoc leaned his shoulder against the corner of the stack. "Are you trying to evade detection?"

Buffy's leg stopped swinging. "Hmm. Sort of."

"Who do you want to avoid?"

"Slytherin boys," she admitted.

"Ah!" His face relaxed; lips tilting up into a lop-sided smile. "Let me guess... a certain prefect? The dark-haired one who thinks I'm a threat because I went to Durmstrang. I often hear the girls whispering his name."

"Yeah? What do they say?"

Caradoc stared at the butterbeer cork in her hair. "Lots of things. Some of it is not repeatable."

"Give me a clue?"

"Mainly they want to date him."

That annoyed her. What girls wanted a date with Tom? Who were they? What House were they in and did she know them? But since she didn't want to show too much interest in an ass like Riddle, she said, "He found me out after curfew and arrested me." She didn't mention most of Riddle's anger had been over his sighting of the Caradoc-boggart. "He said going out after curfew was dangerous for me."

"I agree with him."

Buffy pretended to faint. "Colour me stunned." Her hand rose to touch her heart. "Is the world coming to an end? Is this the start of a new apocalypse? You and Tom agreeing on something?"

There was strong disapproval on Caradoc's face. "Riddle is right. It is far too dangerous to wander around Hogwarts at night."

She pouted. "I can look after myself." Better than you or Riddle. "I can't believe you've just admitted that you agree with a Slytherin. I thought the Gryffs and Slythers were enemies for ever and ever?"

Caradoc traced a finger along the spine of a book, making it dance and quiver with pleasure. "You're a Slytherin. We aren't enemies."

"Yeah, but I'm girl-shaped, and you like me." It was a throwaway comment, but Caradoc's bright blue eyes shot to hers.

"That is true. Will you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"

Buffy closed her mouth. Why hesitate? What was she, a Slytherin nun? Sure, Caradoc sometimes made her nervous with all his questions, but he was droolworthy! And as for those plump lips... she knew ways to silence them!Oh yes, she did! "Um, okay."

Caradoc shot off the stack he'd been leaning against. "You just said yes!"

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Is that a problem?" Caradoc was staring as if she had a horklump sprouting from her forehead.

"No!" A huge grin broke on his face. "You said yes – to me!" He pulled her from the desk and spun her in a circle. "I thought you'd never agree!"

"Whoa! Caradoc, this... Can we stop with the spinning? I just ate breakfast."

"Of course!" he stopped and beamed at her. "Tomorrow at ten. At the Thestral carriages? No! In the hall... at the bottom of the main staircase! Yes?"

"Sure." Buffy smiled, but she was having doubts already.

Perhaps, Caradoc picked up on it because he said, "I can't believe you agreed."

I can't believe it either... "Why? Lots of girls would go with you." She'd heard them whispering about him, they called him Dreamy Dearborn.

"I've been asking you daily for weeks."

Buffy flashed a playful smile. "Slight exaggeration there, Doc."

He returned the smile with one of his own. "Several times."

"Yeah, I'll give you that." She leaned against the stack, her eyes on him. What the hell was wrong with her? Where were the feelings of giddy fizziness? Where was the pre-date excitement? She'd gotten more excited over her Runes homework.

In the distance, a bell rang to signal the end of breakfast. "I've gotta go. I've Transfig with DumbleBore up on the fourth floor." Her brow wrinkled. "Unless its moved again. The room moved twice in three days last week."

"I'll walk you." Caradoc went to take her book bag from the shelf where she'd left it.

"No! It's too heavy."

"In that case, I'm definitely carrying it." Caradoc staggered as he took the bag. "What do you have in there? Rocks?"

"Har har. Just books."

They stopped in the long corridor not far from her class. "I think this is far enough." It was cowardly of her to not let him walk her to the door, but she knew if she did she'd have Tom and Abraxas glaring at her for the entire lesson. Luckily, Caradoc seemed to understand and didn't push her and suggest going further.

He placed her heavy bag on the little stone bench set beneath a series of arched, mullioned windows, and massaged his shoulder. "I have bruises from your bag of rocks."

"Aww, want me to kiss it better?" The words were out before she had a chance to filter. She stilled, blushed, and closed her eyes. Why hadn't the ground opened and swallowed her up? She was such a dork!

She felt Caradoc take her hand and peeked up at him – to see if he was laughing. There was no sign of humour on his face, just a sweet, intense expression. He moved closer, his eyes on her lips. He's going to kiss me! Her head tilted to receive it and felt soft lips brush across hers. A brief kiss, a chaste kiss. There were no magical sparks, there were no inner bubbles of joy, no tingles, nothing.

"Don't mind us," snarled Abraxas from a nearby archway. "Just keep sticking your tongues down each other's throats, why don't you?"

Caradoc stepped away, his hand going to his robe pocket, no doubt to his wand. She'd already drawn her own, but kept it covered by the skirts of her robe. Magical hostility crackled as Abraxas and Tom passed by. Abraxas gave Caradoc a furious glare while Tom averted his face, it was as if he couldn't bear to look at her. She watched them, her magic gathering power until they rounded the corner. Only then, did she let her magic disperse and slide her wand back into her holster.

"I'm sorry about that." Caradoc handed over her bag. "Will they cause trouble for you?"

She shrugged and pulled the book bag handle over her shoulder. The Stooges were going to cause trouble – she just knew it. "I don't care." It wasn't true. She did care, and that annoyed her.

Something snagged at the small hairs on the back of her neck. "Ouch!" She tilted her neck and then reached up to fumble with whatever was caught in her hair.

"Here, let me look." Caradoc gently lifted her hair and wriggled the bag strap to one side. "It's your necklace."

His fingers tickled her skin as he carefully untangled the chain from her hair. Unfastening the clasp, he held it out to her and yet when she went to take it, he didn't let go. He seemed fascinated by the spinning sign of the Deathly Hallows.

"Caradoc?"

"It is true." His voice was so cold that it cast a chill over her. "They told me... they told me you might be his, but when I met you, I thought you were an innocent."

His? "What? What are you talking about?"

"This is Grindelwald's insignia! He engraved that sign into the walls of Durmstrang for all to see! Everyone knows thatif you wear his mark, you are his follower."

Buffy tutted and tugged the necklace out of his fingers. "Everyone knows," she repeated. "Honestly, Caradoc, do you believe that? You've gotta know the story of the three brothers and their attempts to outwit Death? Outwitting death is good, that's why I wear it. Do I look the kind who goes to political rallies and wears a pin?"

He simply stared at her. Dearborn was angry, she could see it in every taut line of his body. "But you are. If this was simply a necklace like you say, why does it bear his name engraved on the reverse?"

"What the... huh? No, it doesn't!"

He pointed at the necklace in her hand. "On the reverse, two GGs interlocked."

She turned it over, saw the interlocking Gs and silently groaned. She'd seen the squiggle when she'd first found the necklace in the Lovegood vault but took it for a maker's mark and promptly forgot about it. "Um, would you believe me... if I said it was a Coco Chanel piece?"

Caradoc promptly turned on his heel and walked off.

…...