Chapter 3

"This wasn't quite what I had in mind," Buffy said as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection; the clothes she was wearing was not what she would have picked out. Ever.

Instead of pants and a cute shirt, like she was used to, Buffy was dressed in some sort of school uniform. Instead of what she had on when she arrived, Buffy was wearing knee-length gray dress, gray knee socks, a white collared blouse and a black necktie. Very drab, very boring and very unflattering. Dumbledore's eyes had twinkled merrily when he told her that there was nothing else in the castle but the student uniform.

"I look like a little kid," she whined, though there was no one in the room with her. At least, that's what she thought.

"Oh, you look like a little angel, dearie."

Buffy whirled around, wondering who – or what – had spoken.

"Who's there?" Buffy asked, a small amount of fear lurking in her voice. Buffy was the Slayer, but she was still somewhat afraid of things she could not see. "Who said that?"

"It was me, sweetie," said the female voice. Buffy looked around and saw no one. "It's the mirror."

Buffy examined the mirror closely, wondering what was going on. Was someone magically trapped in the mirror? With what she had seen in her life, it wouldn't be all that surprising to her. However, no other images came through except for her own reflection.

"What are you looking for?" the voice in the mirror asked, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Haven't you ever seen a magic mirror before?"

"No, I haven't," Buffy replied.

"Oh, you must be a Muggle, then," the mirror said. Buffy arched an eyebrow at the mirror. She knew it meant a non magical person; Dumbledore had explained some of the terminology to her a little while walking her back to her room the previous afternoon, but Buffy didn't think that quite described her. However, she didn't really want to tell anyone else about her Slayer-ness, even if it was just a mirror.

"Something like that," Buffy replied. She was still in slight disbelief; after all, she was carrying on a conversation with a magic mirror.

"Humph, security must be getting lax," the mirror huffed. "Back when I was first made, Muggles never..."

Buffy turned her attention to the door, effectively tuning out the mirror's rant; someone was knocking on it, and she wanted to know who it was. Besides the two professors and the Riddle kid, no one knew Buffy was there.

At least, that's what she hoped. Buffy didn't quite feel up to dealing with people staring at her. Not yet, anyway.

Buffy crossed the room and opened the door to her quarters, slightly surprised to see Tom Riddle standing in the corridor. He stood proud and tall and nearly emotionless; the only sign of emotion on him was a small, amused curve of his lips when he laid eyes on Buffy.

"Something amusing you?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. She already knew she looked ridiculous, and didn't really need a reminder.

"No, no, nothing at all," Tom said, schooling his features so that the only sign of amusement that was showing on his face was the sparkle in his eye. Buffy 'hmphed' and glared at him, wondering what he was doing there, at her room, first thing in the morning.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Professor Dippet called a prefect's meeting last night and asked if one of us would like to volunteer to show you around," Tom replied, smiling a little as Buffy groaned. "Don't worry, he didn't identify you by name, although I doubt that will stop the rumours at all."

"That's what I was afraid of," Buffy said with a groan. "Do you think anyone would notice if I hid in my room all day? I really don't want to deal with people right now."

"Professor Dippet was hoping that you would join the rest of the school for breakfast," Tom replied with a shrug. "I tried to argue with him, plead your case and see if I could buy you some time, but I was unsuccessful. If it makes you feel any better, you can sit at my house table instead of up with the teachers like Professor Dippet had suggested."

"Thanks, but no, it doesn't make me feel any better," Buffy replied. She wanted to get this guy away from her; now that her mind was a little more clear, her Slayer senses were coming back. While the entire castle put her on edge, probably because of all the magic, Tom Riddle made her feel on edge. The less time she spent around him, the easier this foray into the past would be. She hoped, anyway. "Look, I'm not that hungry. I'll be fine, I'm sure I can find the kitchen or something later if my stomach starts rumbling."

It was just then that Buffy's stomach gave a rather loud and embarrassing gurgle, one she was sure Tom and anyone else who had been wandering the corridors had heard. Tom snickered a little, obviously amused by the situation.

"You're a terrible liar, you know," Tom said. Buffy huffed; she didn't like being called a liar, even if just a terrible one, and even if it was true.

"Good to know," Buffy replied. "I'm still not going down to breakfast."

She closed the portrait on him then, slightly surprised that he didn't put his foot in the way to stop it from closing. Just as well; Tom not asserting himself just made her life a whole lot easier. Maybe whoever ran the kitchens would realize that she didn't go down for breakfast with anyone else and send her meals up. After all, that was how it had worked for the past day or so when she had been in her room. One minute she was minding her own business, reading, thinking, sitting near the window and staring out at nothing, and the next there was a platter of food. She didn't feel like eating most of the time, so she normally just picked at it, taking a couple of bites of eggs at breakfast, a few spoonfuls of soup at lunch and a couple of scoops of shepherd's pie at dinner time. In fact, this morning had been the first time her stomach had given any indication that she was hungry at all.

Buffy must have been brooding and thinking longer than she had thought, because someone started pounding on the door again. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she got up and grabbed the book she had been thumbing through the previous day, studiously ignoring the pounding at her door. It was only until she heard a female's voice in her room that Buffy looked up.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Buffy searched the room, trying to find the source of the voice. It didn't take her long; the girl in the portrait guarding her room, Giselle, had somehow made her way into another painting that was in her room.

"What's up?" Buffy asked. Dear God I'm talking to a painting, she thought, giggling a little. I must be going crazy or something.

"I don't want to disturb you, but there are two professors outside pounding on the door, demanding to be let in," Giselle said timidly. Buffy arched an eyebrow at the girl; what part of 'go away, I don't want to deal with people' didn't these guys understand? It wasn't as if she was trying to be ungrateful, but it was a heavy order if they expected her to just come out and deal with however many students and their curious stares when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. She hadn't resorted to that in her waking hours, but more than once she'd woken in the middle of the night and felt the dampness of her tears on the pillow.

"Fine, I'll go deal with them," Buffy said. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself I suppose, she thought with another sigh as she marched to the portrait hole and pushed the now-empty portrait out so that it opened into the hallway.

"Oh good, you're up," Dippet said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Tom gave us a bit of a fright when he told us you refused to come out of your room." He shot an indulgent smile at the Prefect, who was standing a short distance away from the professors. He smirked at Buffy and held his hand up in a wave of greeting. Buffy tried not to glare at him and resisted the urge to march over there and smack the smirk off of his face.

"Did he also tell you that I really wasn't up to dealing with large crowds of people right now?" Buffy asked, wondering what the boy had told them.

"Not as such, no," Dippet said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the comment. "Must have slipped his mind, I suppose."

Sure it did, Buffy thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She glanced over at Dumbledore, whose face was a mask of seriousness except for the slight twinkle in his blue eyes.

"It's just as well we're all here," Dippet continued, seeming to get a little flustered with the turn of events. "I had planned on talking to you after breakfast, but now works fine I suppose."

Buffy looked beyond Dippet and Dumbledore. Tom looked extremely interested now, not that Buffy blamed him. If some random person had arrived at Sunnydale High School mysteriously and Snyder was trying to keep it a secret, Buffy would be interested and curious too. Then again, mysterious appearances and secret keeping usually triggered some ingrained Slayer alarm that Buffy had yet to disable.

"Mr. Riddle, don't you have a class to be getting to?" Dumbledore asked pointedly. Buffy decided she liked the Transfiguration right then and there when she saw a flash of something in Tom's eyes before he turned on his heel and marched away.

"Would you like for us to conduct this meeting in my office, or would you prefer to have it here?" Dippet asked.

"Definitely here," Buffy replied immediately, thinking about how she didn't want anyone to actually see her. She had no doubts that rumours about her had already been spreading; she didn't trust Tom as far as Willow could throw him. Even if he hadn't blabbed, the other Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl knew about her as well. Teenagers weren't the most trustworthy when it came to juicy gossip, no matter how good they had to be to get the status of Prefect, and it really only took one to open their mouth before word spread like wildfire.

Dippet nodded in agreement at Buffy's choice and she ushered the two professors into her room, checking the hallway before closing the door behind them. The two men had already settled themselves on the sofa by the fireplace, leaving Buffy with the chair opposite them.

"So, what's up?" Buffy asked, wondering what the professors wanted.

"I'm not sure I follow," Dippet said, looking confused. Buffy sighed; she'd have to start speaking properly instead of explaining herself all the time. That might take a little practice, but it was better than having to explain herself all of the time. Even back home, Giles had picked up on her language and she rarely had to translate.

"I mean, what do you want to talk about?" Buffy asked, curious. She wondered what more these two men had to say; after all, they sort of decided whether or not she could stick around or not.

"I have been considering everything that you have said," Dippet began. "You have to understand, even in this world, that hearing about a girl who has the strength and skill to kill not only vampires, but demons as well, is a little on the fantastical side. I did a little bit of research, trying to find anything and everything I could about the Slayer. The thing is, Miss Summers… the Slayer, as you describe her, isn't supposed to exist."

Buffy sat for a moment, not quite sure what to say or think. People either heard of her, or they hadn't, but they never said that she wasn't supposed to exist.

"What do you mean, I'm not supposed to exist?" Buffy asked warily, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"The Slayer is a legend in our world," Dippet said. "You have to understand, Miss Summers, that because we have magic we are in no need of a mystical warrior to protect us from the forces of darkness. There have been tales from our ancestors about a young woman who fought demons and the like, but this was over a thousand years ago before our magic became what it is today. There are no modern accounts of a Slayer, at least in our world. I'm sorry, dear."

"Why are you apologizing?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity. "It's not your fault I'm not supposed to exist in this dimension."

"Perhaps it is just this community that you are not a part of," Dumbledore continued. "The Slayer once was known and a part of this world, but once our magic started to strengthen and we found our own ways to combat the forces of darkness, the magical community cut ties with the Watcher's Council and the Slayer was then dedicated to protecting the Muggle world. If you like, I could help you do some research, see if this is your dimension or another one entirely."

Buffy beamed at him; she decided then and there that she liked Dumbledore very much, mostly because he was willing to help her despite the fact that he hardly knew her. The fact that Dippet made a concentrated effort not to look extremely annoyed whenever Dumbledore spoke didn't hurt much. Much like Riddle, Buffy didn't trust Dippet, although she couldn't put her finger on it.

"As well, I could ask our Head Girl to show you around the castle when she is finished her classes today, if you like," Dumbledore added. "Miss McGonagall is very knowledgeable about the castle and its history; I'm sure she wouldn't mind giving you the grand tour."

"Sure, I'd like that," Buffy replied with a grin.

"But Mr. Riddle has already volunteered to be Miss Summers' guide," Dippet interjected. Buffy had almost forgotten the older man had been there; strange how that happened.

"I'm sure Mr. Riddle has more important things to do than show someone around the castle," Dumbledore replied. "Besides, I'm sure Miss Summers would be much more comfortable with a female companion." Buffy wasn't sure, but she could have sworn that she saw Dumbledore wink at her. It was so quick that she almost missed it.

"Oh all right… fine," Dippet said, although it was obvious that he didn't agree with it. It was obvious to Buffy that even though Dippet was supposed to be the head honcho around here, Dumbledore carried far too much weight and influenced far too many decisions. Not that she minded; she had a feeling that if Dippet had his way, Buffy probably wouldn't be staying in the castle or getting guided tours of said castle by the Head Girl or given clothes to wear.

"I think that's everything, isn't it Armando?" Dumbledore asked, rising from his seat. Dippet followed suit, glaring at the slightly younger professor as he did so.

"Yes, I believe it is, Albus," Dippet agreed. He turned and swept out of the room first, obviously miffed at Dumbledore.

"I'll send Miss McGonagall down when she's finished her classes this afternoon," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Until then, you're welcome to read anything in the room, but I would not suggest wandering too far. The portraits have eyes, ears and mouths that they seem to have a hard time keeping shut. If you don't want to be seen or talked about before this afternoon, it would be a good idea to stay in here. The house elves will bring you some breakfast shortly, and some lunch when the time comes."

"Thank you," Buffy said, grateful for the hospitality. "This means a lot to me."

"It's no trouble, child," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile and a twinkle of his eyes before he turned and left the room, shutting the portrait behind him.

Buffy decided that now was a good a time as any to start looking at some of the books on the bookshelf. Hmm… Hogwarts, a History looks interesting, she thought as she picked took the book from the shelf and curled up in her chair, getting lost in the book.

***

Chapter three, folks. As always, positive feedback is nice, constructive criticism sought after and flames will be used to make a bonfire. I refuse to answer questions about speculation; you'll just have to wait like everyone else.