Author's Note: Bet nobody expected this. You were all thinking, eight…sixth months. Hell, maybe never, But alas! I had four days off work. I felt sick for about, oh, three of them. And voila! Chapter 4 in all its not so long awaited glory. I do have ONE teeny bone to pick with all of you. It's like…a chicken bone, so worry not. Here's the thing. The last chapter got 2500 hundred hits (yay!), but only eleven people reviewed (boo!). What's up with that, mis amigos? To those who did review, thank you very much. You rock my world. A lot.

What else…title taken from the band Spoon. They also rock. There will be pairings in this story. Be patient. No, the Scoobies are not gone from Buffy's life. They will make an appearance in due time. And to all those who have questions, just wait. It'll all make sense in the end.

The Way We Get By

Tragedy blows through your life like a tornado, uprooting everything. Creating chaos. You wait for the dust to settle and then you choose. You can live in the wreckage and pretend it's still the mansion you remember. Or you can crawl from the rubble and slowly rebuild.

-Veronica Mars

Buffy woke to a flurry of movement all around her. When she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly at the light pouring in from the windows, she took in the five girls scurrying about the room. To their credit, they were trying their best to keep quiet. A futile gesture of course, but still…Buffy gave them points for effort.

Hermione was not in the room, so Buffy's one friend – no, that wasn't right – Buffy's one acquaintance wasn't there to make things a tad bit easier. As a result, Buffy found herself closing her eyes once again and waiting for the other girls to leave the room. When they did, she slowly rose from her bed and disdainfully donned her uniform.

Okay, it wasn't that bad. In fact, tie up the tails of the blouse and she may have been able to pass for an extra in a Britney Spears music video. But Buffy had always liked clothes and taking away one of her favorite livelihoods – assembling a killer outfit – was distressing if nothing else, another reminded that she was far, far from home. She debated for only a moment on whether or not to tuck in the shirt (hell no), decided to forgo the knee high socks all together and, after discovering that she didn't even know how to tie a tie, stuffed it in the pocket of her book bag. Quickly putting her hair in a half ponytail and applying some eyeliner, she took one look in the mirror, decided she was presentable, and exited the room.

When Giles had arrived at Hogwarts one week after her own untimely arrival, he had brought with him a trunk with the majority of her things, assuring her that he had put the rest safely in storage. In a true testament of the trauma Buffy had been through, she had immediately sought out Mr. Gordo and had refused to put him down for the next three days. Childish, yes, but also comforting. Coolness be damned.

Giles had stayed for a total of two weeks, enough time to assure himself that she was physically alright and that she was adjusting to life at Hogwarts. He was by her side as she was sorted into Gryffindor and had patiently walked around the grounds with her, explaining that no, she could not slay the mermaids and yes, it was perfectly natural for the paintings to move. One time he had caught her mid shouting match with a large painting of an old fashioned woman sitting in a rocking chair who had apparently taken personal offence to Buffy's attire. He had been forced to drag Buffy out of the hallway for fear of Buffy's, err, destructive tendencies and had forbidden her to engage in conversation with the paintings ever again.

Of course, he could not stay, not only because muggles weren't traditionally allowed on Hogwarts grounds (although exceptions had been made time and time again), but also because Willow and Xander were now depending on him as a parental guardian. He promised he would keep in touch.

The common room was very nearly empty and the occupants who were in the room – three boys who she was pretty sure she had seen sorted yesterday – looked about as nervous as she felt. Taking her time to get to the Great Hall, she finally pushed open the doors, bracing herself for the stares and—

Nothing. The hall was half filled, but people were engrossed in books and conversation and nobody even looked up as she entered the room. Feeling better about the entire situation, Buffy walked over to the Gryffindor table and, seeing Hermione playing distractedly with her eggs on her plate while her attention was fully dedicated to the large tomb in front of her, warily slipped into a seat across from her.

Hermione looked up, startled. Upon recognizing Buffy she said quickly, "Good morning."

"Is it alright if I…?"

"Of course."

Hermione politely closed the book she was reading and Buffy immediately recognized it as Hogwarts: A History. Taking a small amount of pride in the fact that she had actually read the book earlier that summer in her desire to find out more about Tom Riddle, she somewhat eagerly jumped on the subject.

"Have you gotten to the house ghost rebellion yet?"

To her surprise, Hermione's jaw dropped. "Wait, you've actually read Hogwarts: A History?"

Confused, Buffy nodded. "Sure, I read it this summer."

In retrospect, Buffy was pretty sure that was when Hermione and her made the transition from acquaintances to friends.

XXXXXXXX

"I'm just saying, I think she ought to stop worrying about our academics and focus on her own."

Harry raised an eyebrow at his best friends latest rant. "Ron, as much as I hate to say this, she's kind of right. I mean, we've got our NEWTS next year and if we—

"Oh bloody hell, Harry! Not you too!" Ron exclaimed in disgust. "I can't believe you're taking her side."

"I'm not taking sides."

"Classes haven't even started yet. With everything that's going on, I think we've all got more important things to worry about then whether or not you forgot your stupid potions text book," Ron grumbled.

Harry shrugged. "I'll just get one from the library, I suppose. I'm just glad Quidditch is back on. I don't think I could go through another year without it."

"Yeah, me either."

The two boys walked into the Great Hall and headed over to where they saw Hermione talking to…the blonde girl from last night. Well, this should be interesting, Harry thought.

Ron seemed to be similarly surprised. "When did they get all chummy?"

"She did mention that they spoke last night."

As they watched, Hermione untied her tie and demonstrated to the girl how to tie it. The blonde's brow was furrowed in concentration as she tried to imitate the movements with her own maroon and gold tie.

"No, no," they heard Hermione saying. "It's over, under, around and then through."

After a failed attempt to copy Hermione, the blonde's shoulders sagged in defeat and she threw the tie down on the table in disgust. "These colors don't even do anything for my complexion."

"Here, give it to me." Tying it around her own neck, she loosened the knot at the top and handed it back to the girl so that she could just put it around her neck without having to tie it herself.

That was when the boys made their presence known, Ron sliding in next to Hermione and Harry sliding in hesitantly next to the blonde girl.

"I was wondering when you lot would make it out of bed," Hermione said to them by way of greeting.

"It's lovely to see you as well, Hermione," Ron said sarcastically. "We slept fine, thanks for asking."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Guys, this is Buffy Summers. She's here from America. Buffy, this is Ron and that's Harry."

The three teens paused a beat, waiting for the inevitable reaction to Harry's name. When Buffy simply blinked, said hi, and took another bite of her toast, Harry found himself immensely glad that he apparently wasn't as popular in America as he was in England.

"So you're a yank?" Ron said through a mouthful of food.

Buffy nodded. "So they keep telling me."

"My older brother went over there once. There was some kind of dragon outbreak in this place called…damn, what was it?…North Dakota, I think."

"Dragon outbreak?"

"Yeah, this dragon had triplets or something and whole family started terrorizing some townspeople. Pretty standard."

"Hmm, I missed that one."

"Really? It was all over the wizard news."

Buffy glanced at Hermione. "I wasn't really in tune with the wizard world before this."

"You grew up muggle?"

"Yeah."

"So you just found out you're a witch?"

Buffy nodded. "About four months ago."

Ron looked impressed. "Wicked."

Harry hid a smile. "So what classes do you have?"

"Umm…" she said as she fumbled in her bag, eventually producing a rumpled parchment with a hastily scratched out schedule. "History of magic first and then a double potions, herbology, transfiguration …some sort of mind reading thing and—

Harry and Ron's eyebrows shot up. "Blimey! You have all that in one day?" Ron exclaimed, grabbing the parchment from Buffy's hand and looking it over.

Buffy shrugged. "I sort of have a lot of catching up to do."

"This is just cruel!"

"A full schedule is simply taking advantage of everything that Hogwarts has to offer," Hermione lectured. "Why, when I was in my third year I—

"Yes, and we all know how brilliantly that turned out for you."

Buffy laughed, stopping the argument before it could truly get started. "It's not as bad as it sounds. For a lot of these classes I'm just sitting in so I won't have to worry about tests and homework and stuff."

Harry continued to look over the schedule. "A lot of these overlap with ours."

"You've got divination with the fifth year Slytherins. That's a bit of bad luck," Ron said apologetically.

"Why's that?" Buffy asked innocently.

"They're gits," Ron said simply.

"I see."

Hermione glanced at her watch and quickly stood up. "C'mon. We've only got five minutes to get to History of Magic."

"Good. I can catch up on some sleep." Ron started to follow Hermione out of the Great Hall.

"Ron Weasely!"

Buffy rose slowly, gathering her things and taking a last bite of toast. Harry waited until she was standing before they both trailed after a still arguing Ron and Hermione.

"They're certainly…vocal."

Harry laughed. "That's one way of putting it."

She smiled at him and Harry Potter decided right then that he wanted to see her smile a lot more often.

XXXXXXX

Come one-o-clock, Buffy lay on the grass by the lake, her arm shielding her eyes from the sun and her blouse pushed up to expose her stomach and hopefully get her a tan. After an hour of listening to a monotone lecture on the difference between wands, followed by two hours of Snape glaring at her and criticizing her every move, she was at the end of her rope. Lunch could not have come sooner. All she wanted to do was lie here and eat her sandwich in peace and—

"So you're the yank."

Great, Buffy thought, inwardly groaning.

Without moving her arm, she said shortly, "Yup."

"And you're a mudblood?"

"Probably."

The intruder was silent for a moment. He was looking at her. Maybe if she ignored him he'd go away.

"Draco Malfoy."

Sigh.

Buffy removed her arm and stared up at the newcomer. He was cute in an annoying sort of way.

"Buffy," she finally offered.

"That's a name?"

"So it would seem, Draco."

He glared at her and Buffy felt a flare of recognition hit her, but she couldn't wrap her mind around where she had—

He sat down next to her.

"Have a seat, make your self comfortable," Buffy said, making her aggravation evident.

He was silent for a moment, simply staring out at the lake as if she wasn't even there. Buffy took the time to examine him. He had white blond hair, pale skin, and sharp, angular features. His clothes were pristine and expensive looking. Around his neck he wore a green and silver tie, which, if she understood the sorting correctly, made him a Slytherin.

Finally, he turned to look at her, his eyes boring into hers with a hint of amusement. She bristled. "Everybody's talking about you," he told her, as if she didn't already know.

"Oh, yeah. What are they saying?"

"Mostly that you're a yank, that you have no history in magic and that you're hot," he replied bluntly.

"You came to investigate?"

He glanced down at her. She noticed his eyes take in her bare midriff. "Yes."

Shrugging, Buffy crossed her ankles and put her arm back over her eyes. "Well, I'm pretty sure you've Sherlock Holmed all you need to know."

"Who's Sherlock Holm?"

"Holmes. He was….nevermind. It's not important." Then, as an after thought, "You wizard people seriously need to get out more."

She was pretty sure he was glaring at her again. Perhaps she should inform him that he couldn't actually kill her with just the power of his eyes? She frowned. Unless he was a Mathison demon, but she sincerely doubted that Dumbledore would—

She heard the rustle of something. What was he…

She opened her eyes and sat up. Was he actually opening his lunch?

"What are you doing?"

"Eating lunch."

Her eyes narrowed. "I can see that, Captain Obvious, but why are you eating lunch here?"

"Clearly not for the pleasant company," he said pointedly.

"There's a perfectly nice dining room—

"But the weather is so lovely this time of year."

Buffy clenched her teeth. "It has a moving ceiling with clouds. Practically the same thing."

"I'm not really one for substitutes." He smirked. "Am I bothering you, Miss Summers?" He pouted. "And I've been so nice."

"You called me a mudblood!"

"You don't even know what that means," he said casually.

Well, that was…true. "It didn't sound nice," she said somewhat lamely.

He shrugged. "It's not."

"So why'd you say it?"

"Why do you care?"

"Don't answer a question with a question. It's annoying."

He laughed. "If this bothers you so much, you're welcome to leave."

"I was here first!"

"And I was here second," Draco stated, somewhat dramatically. "I can't see where you're going with this."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Well, nobody accused you of being particularly bright."

"Harsh!" Draco said with mock sadness. "And I'll have you know, I'm top of the sixth year Slytherin class."

"Do you want a cookie? A gold medal perhaps?" Buffy asked sarcastically.

"Oh come on! You're not even slightly impressed that I'm incredibly good looking and intelligent?"

"No, but the size of your ego is rather impressive."

"So you have no qualms with my looks?"

"What do you care what I think? I'm a dirt blood, remember?" Buffy said, reminding him of his earlier words.

"Mudblood."

"Same difference."

"Actually—

Buffy threw her hands up in exasperation. "I give up. Talking to you is like talking to a wall." Her brow furrowed. "An annoying wall."

Draco smirked.

Buffy glared.

Somebody coughed behind them. They both looked up. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were staring at them with bewildered expressions on their faces. Buffy was somewhat disconcerted that she hadn't heard them approach.

"Hail, hail, the gangs all here," Draco said. "Come to save a damsel in distress from interesting conversation?"

Buffy snorted.

Harry shot Draco an annoyed look. "Is he bothering you?"

"Only in the literal sense."

"I'm touched, Elizabeth."

Buffy's head whipped around. For a moment, her world stopped. "What did you just call me?" she choked out.

Her eyes had become cold and almost emotionless. Draco refused to look away. Instead, he said very slowly, "It was a joke. Calm down."

"It wasn't funny."

"Yes, I'm beginning to recognize that."

"That's not my name."

He smiled. "How could I forget?"

Realizing that she now had three pairs of eyes staring at her critically, she quickly gathered her things and stood up. Brushing off her skirt, she turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and said, "I'll see you guys in Herbology."

"Yeah," Hermione said, clearly puzzled.

She walked off without a backward glance.

To be continued. I'm off to go make a calzone, or…well…watch somebody else make a calzone and offer helpful tidbits of advice and encouragement. Review! Did ya like it? Hate it? Let me know!