As Buffy sat on the ground, cradling her mother in her lap, she stared up at the building in front her.

It had to be one of the most structurally unsound places she had ever seen.

The whole thing was insanely crooked, with story after story plopped haphazardly on the one below it, like a Jenga tower gone wrong. She didn't even want to guess why there were so chimneys, let alone why they were sticking out at random, odd angles. It also didn't escape her notice that there wasn't another building as far as the eye could see, just rolling countryside.

"This isn't a hospital… is it?" she asked.

Dumbledore shook his head, and Buffy felt both relieved and really, really pissed.

"Then why are we here?" she demanded. "My mom needs help."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Which she will receive here," he promised.

Though she still wasn't convinced, she knew that standing outside wasn't really an option either, so she got to her feet, her mother in her arms.

Surprisingly, it took a lot of effort - much more than she had anticipated. It wasn't that she couldn't handle the weight. Her problem was that, between her mother's height and multiple injuries, she couldn't get a good grip. She ended up readjusting her hold several times before she started walking, and even then, she was worried she was hurting her mom.

Noticing her struggle, Dumbledore held up his wand. "May I?"

After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"Mobilicorpus."

Buffy gasped as her mother gently floated up from her arms and hovered in the air, completely stable. As Dumbledore began to walk toward the building - or maybe it was a house? - her mom followed.

"Shall we?"

Buffy jumped slightly at the sound of Giles' voice. She quickly recovered, though, and nodded, falling into step behind Dumbledore - though not before scooping a sizable stick off the ground and tucking into her pants. It wasn't much of a weapon, more of a security stake than anything else, but she didn't care.

If Giles thought it was weird, he didn't say anything. He just walked next to her.

When they finally reached the door, Dumbledore let loose a loud rap.

"Arthur!" he called out, his voice echoing in the still night air. "Molly!"

Buffy held her breath as she waited.

After a few long moments, a light went on in one of the upper windows. Then they heard someone coming down some steps rapidly. A few more steps and the door opened a crack.

A red-headed man peered through, his face illuminated by a small ball of light at the tip of his wand. From what she could see, he had on one of those old-fashioned nightcaps. It was then that Buffy realized that, not only was it the middle of the night here, but this was in fact someone's house.

"Albus? Is that you?"

"Yes, Arthur, it is. Forgive me for intruding at such an early hour, but it is an emergency."

"What? An emergency?" another voice, one coming from further inside the house, asked.

The door was flung open a second later, and a red-headed woman in a nightgown and robe burst outside, pushing Arthur out of the way in the process. Her gaze raked across them, stopping at Buffy's mom with a gasp.

"Oh, goodness! Come in, quickly!" she exclaimed, motioning for them to go inside. "Take her to Ginny's room, Albus, the first room on the right after the kitchen."

"Thank you, Molly," Dumbledore replied. Before he passed through the doorway, however, he looked at the guy. "Arthur, could you fetch Poppy through the usual channels? Please let her know that there is a Muggle who has lost a significant amount of blood and has suffered burns from an Incendio flame."

Arthur's jaw dropped, his gaze darting between Buffy, her mother, and Giles, as if he didn't know who he found the most interesting. It took a pointed kick from Molly to snap him out of it.

"Of course, Albus, right away," he said. As he hurried inside the house, he gave them one last backward glance before. Then he disappeared from sight.

"And I'll fetch some extra linens and bandages," Molly added, following Arthur in.

Satisfied, Dumbledore finally walked into the house. He had obviously been there before, because he knew exactly where he was going even though the house was pitch dark, his stride purposeful as he made his way through what looked like a kitchen.

Buffy and Giles didn't have it as easy. Even with her Slayer night vision, she bumped into things along the way, partly because the house was really cluttered, and partly because her eyes were glued to her mother.

Giles had even less luck. She heard him curse several times before they finally made it to a bedroom, the one they had been directed to behind the kitchen.

Once inside, Dumbledore gently set Joyce on top of the bed there. Then he murmured something, and the room flooded with light.

Buffy squinted, her eyes not ready for the sudden change. The blindingly pink walls didn't help. In fact, if she hadn't already been looking at her mother, she might not have seen the sudden movement on the wall directly over the bed. As it was, she didn't know what exactly was moving, just that it was heading straight for her mom.

With no time to think, Buffy grabbed the stick she had hidden on her and threw it with all her might.

There was a loud thunk as the stick embedded itself in the wall, followed by a shocked silence from everyone - including Buffy.

For now that her vision was clear, she saw that nothing was threatening her mom. There was, however, a poster above the bed; one with a woman dressed up in some kind of sports gear - and she was moving.

Well, she had been moving. That was what had caught Buffy's eye in the first place. Now she was alternating between glaring at Buffy and the brand new hole in her poster, obviously highly offended.

"Uh, sorry?" Buffy offered.

The woman just turned her nose up at her.

Shocked and a little sheepish, Buffy turned toward the other two in the room.

Giles looked just as surprised as she did. Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked amused, his eyes twinkling brightly. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to explain what the heck was going on. Before he could, however, Molly came rushing into the room, her arms full of supplies.

"Is everything-" she began. When she saw the stick in her wall, she stopped, her face suddenly blank as she stared at the damage. "Oh my."

Before Buffy could move, let alone muster up an adequate apology, Dumbledore stepped forward. "I'm sorry, Molly. In our haste to come here, I neglected to explain to Ms. Summers some of the peculiarities of our world, such as moving photographs and paintings. She only thought to protect her mother."

Molly's expression instantly melted, and she dropped the blankets in her arms on a nearby desk and enveloped Buffy in a hug.

"Oh, you poor dear," she cooed, before pulling back so she could look Buffy in the eye. "I'm sure this is all quite a nasty shock for you. Most Muggles would have fainted dead away by now-"

"Actually, Mr. Giles and Mrs. Summers are Muggles," Dumbledore interrupted. "Buffy, however, is a witch."

Witch, not slayer. It sounded strange to Buffy.

Thankfully, before she could dwell on it too much, Arthur came into the room. This time, he was fully dressed and out of breath. Behind him was an older woman, wearing a heavy cloak and cap and carrying a large bag.

"Ms. Summers and Mr. Giles, this is our Healer, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said. "Madam Pomfrey, I'm sorry to call upon you at such an hour, but Ms. Summers' mother has been injured."

Madam Pomfrey gave Buffy and Giles a brief but warm nod. Then she was all business as she walked over to the bed, her eyes quickly assessing Buffy's mom.

"What happened?"

Again, Dumbledore took the lead and gave her a summary of everything that had happened. Buffy didn't mind, especially since he tactfully left out the part where she had accidentally started the fire. He could also describe the spells he had performed on her mother, which Madam Pomfrey took note of.

"She was lucky you were there, Albus. Otherwise, the damage could have been far more extensive than it is," she said. Then she stood up straight. "Everyone out."

Molly and Arthur immediately did as they were told. Buffy, however, didn't budge an inch. Neither did Giles, though he looked mildly uncomfortable.

Buffy could understand why. Regular doctors didn't let family stand around and watch while they worked. Why would magical ones be any different? The only problem was, there was no way Buffy was letting her mom out of her sight.

She stood firmly in place under the Healer's stern gaze, ready for the inevitable showdown.

Before that could happen, Dumbledore stepped forward, recognizing the situation for what it was.

"Madam Pomfrey, under ordinary circumstances, I would not dare suggest that Ms. Summers be allowed to stay. However, she has only recently learned that she's a witch and is a bit apprehensive of our ways. Could she perhaps sit in the corner, unobtrusively and out of your way?"

This last part was directed at Buffy, letting her know that she had to give a little to get a little.

While she didn't do "unobtrusive" well on the whole, she knew a good compromise when she saw one. She quickly nodded her agreement. As a show of good faith, she sat down in the only chair in the room, one that was placed next to a desk in the corner.

Madam Pomfrey frowned. Clearly, this was not her first choice. After a long pause, however, she relented.

"All right," she replied. She sent a pointed look toward Giles. "But only her."

Giles nodded and put a reassuring hand on Buffy's shoulder. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Then he left the room. Dumbledore followed soon after, closing the door behind him.

Before it clicked shut, Madam Pomfrey began to work. Buffy watched as she pulled out her wand and waved it over her mom, who immediately began to glow different colors.

"Poor thing," the Healer murmured as she reached into her bag and began rifling around. After a moment, she pulled out a small bottle with what looked like red liquid inside. "Ah, here it is. Blood Replenisher."

She made it sound like she was just talking to herself, but Buffy knew better. She was explaining what she was going to do for Buffy's benefit.

Buffy could have kissed the woman. In return, she renewed her resolve to sit as silently as she could.

Little did she know that she would be put to the test a second later when Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over her mom again, this time waking her up.

"Wha… I..."

Buffy gripped her seat, fighting every instinct to jump to her feet and rush to her mom's side, knowing it would not be well-received - and very possibly thrown out of the room.

Though the chair creaked and groaned under her, it held, and just as importantly, so did she.

"Shh," Madam Pomfrey said gently, holding the bottle up to her mom's mouth. "Drink this. It will help."

Completely out of it and just barely conscious, her mom complied. As soon as Madam Pomfrey deemed that she had drunk enough, she pulled the potion away and replaced it with another bottle, this one with purple stuff inside, which her mom again drank without question.

It must have been something to make her sleep, because she had barely finished swallowing before she was out, a peaceful look on her face.

With a loud exhalation, Buffy relaxed her grip on the chair, though she made sure to keep her eyes glued to Madam Pomfrey to see what she was going to do next To her surprise, the Healer turned toward her.

"I need to cleanse the wounds on her arm. This potion may cause a little smoking as it makes contact. It also may sting a bit, but it is necessary to prevent infection," she explained in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Clearly, Madam Pomfrey was a very smart woman. Watching smoke rise from her mom was not an easy thing for Buffy to do. By knowing what to expect, however, she could keep her promise to stay out of the way - with a readjusted grip on her chair.

After that potion had been applied, Madam Pomfrey applied a thick orange paste on the burns. Then she cleaned all the blood and dirt away with a few swipes of her wand, healing any scratches she found along the way.

When she was finally finished, she turned toward Buffy.

"Now it's your turn, Ms. Summers."

Buffy stared at her blankly. "Huh?"

Madam Pomfrey arched her eyebrow and looked her up and down.

Confused, Buffy did the same. She was almost surprised to see the dozens of cuts that covered her, having completely forgotten about the injuries she had gotten both from the door splintering and the subsequent fight. There was no major damage, everything pretty standard for a day of slaying - at least, nothing that would still be there by morning.

Because she couldn't exactly tell Madam Pomfrey that, however, she had no choice but to give in.

It was actually a really interesting process, one that kept Buffy riveted despite her own feelings toward hospitals and the medical profession in general. She got the smoking potion, too, which stung a little, just as Madam Pomfrey had explained it would. The Healer was quick to move on to healing the cuts and cleaning all the grime off of her, though, which left her with a warm, tingling sensation, one that actually felt really nice.

Buffy stole a glance at her mother. She hoped that she was feeling the same.

"She will be fine," Madam Pomfrey reassured her. "It will take some time for her to fully recover and there will be a bit of pain along the way, but she will be fine."

Buffy's eyes snapped up, hope and disbelief warring within her. "Really?"

Madam Pomfrey paused in her ministrations to pat her on the cheek. "Yes, dear. Just make sure you apply the orange salve twice a day. Molly will know how to ease any pain, and I'll come and check on her daily," she promised. Then she took a step back and looked Buffy over with a critical eye. "That should do it for now. I'll leave you here and let the others know the good news."

She quickly gathered up her bottles and potions in her bag and walked toward the door. Before she could leave, Buffy spoke up.

"Thank you."

It came out harsh, harsher than she meant, but she didn't trust herself to say more.

Madam Pomfrey smiled in understanding and left, softly shutting the door behind her.

Buffy counted to ten. When she was sure no one was going to come in, she finally allowed her shoulders to sag, the weight of the day finally bearing down on her.

It had been too close. Vamps had targeted her family, and she had almost lost her mother because of it. If that had happened, Buffy never would have forgiven herself.

A single, shuddering sob escaped before she managed to pull herself together. After taking a few deep breaths, Buffy dragged her chair over to the bed and sat down. She immediately reached for her mother's hand. It was warm to the touch, and the warmth instantly spread into Buffy, soothing her as she laid her head on blanket next to her mom.

She had no idea what being a witch meant for her, or what she would have to do to control her powers. She didn't even know where she was, or why she was there. In that one moment, as she sat her mother's side, she allowed herself not to care.

And though she felt guilty even just thinking it, she was glad to have many miles between her and Sunnydale.

A/N: Sorry for the delay! RL has not been kind.