Chapter 4
Buffy awoke, startled, when she heard a tapping on her door. Must have dozed off, she thought as she groaned and stretched. She had fallen asleep sometime after lunch, curled up in her chair at an awkward position, Hogwarts, A History still laying open in her lap. As such, even though she had only been asleep for a couple of hours at most, she was a little stiff.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Buffy said as someone knocked on her door again, crossing the room to her wardrobe. Bypassing the sensible Mary Jane shoes that had provided for her, along with the uniform and the knee socks, Buffy's gaze landed on the pair of knee high black boots she had been wearing when she had landed, the only thing that hadn't been taken by the house elves.
Grabbing the boots, Buffy she slipped them on over top of the knee socks she had put on that morning, tucking her socks in so that they didn't show over the tops of the boots. While definitely not the height of fashion by any means – Cordelia would be having a field day if she ever saw Buffy dressed like this – the boots gave the outfit a slight edge that would be absent if Buffy had worn the sensible Mary Janes.
Buffy walked to the portrait hole, slightly nervous, and cautiously opened the door just in case Tom was standing there. She knew Dumbledore had said he was sending the Head Girl, but Dippet was still supposedly in charge and he could easily override Dumbledore.
To Buffy's relief, Riddle was not the one banging on her door, but a young woman who appeared to be around Buffy's age. She was pretty and stood at least three inches taller than Buffy's usual five foot two, but since Buffy's boots had a slight heel, it closed the distance in their heights and made Buffy seem only an inch and a half shorter. She had long black hair tied away from her face in a braid that fell about halfway down her back. Her eyes were sharp and grey in color, sparkling with barely contained mischief and curiosity. She was dressed much like Buffy was, but instead of a black tie, hers was burgundy and gold striped, and she was wearing a robe and those sensible Mary Janes.
"Miss Summers?" she asked. Buffy nodded.
"Miss McGonagall?" Buffy asked, mostly because she didn't have anything else to go by; Dumbledore hadn't mentioned this girl's first name. "But please, call me Buffy. When someone calls me Miss Summers, I feel like I'm in trouble or something."
"If I can call you Buffy, then you must call me Minerva," the girl, henceforth dubbed as Minerva, replied with a warm smile. "I feel much the same about being called Miss McGonagall."
"Get in trouble a lot, then?" Buffy asked with an arch of an eyebrow as she exited her room and joined Minerva in the corridor, closing the door behind her.
"Only when I get caught," Minerva replied with a grin and a wink. "Shall we? Professor Dumbledore had a long list of things for me to show you before I dropped you off at his office on the seventh floor and I want to get through most of them before I have to do that."
"Can't wait to get rid of me, huh?" Buffy asked, trying to sound good-natured but failing miserably. The fact that her own mother had kicked her out still stung horribly, and even though she didn't know this girl at all, the fact that she wanted to pawn her off on someone else so quickly kind of hurt.
"No, no, nothing like that," Minerva replied quickly. "I just thought that you might want to learn about the castle and everything in it before you were let loose on your own. It's definitely going to take more than one afternoon for you to learn the ropes, so the more you pick up on the better."
"Fair enough," Buffy said, accepting the explanation for now.
"Let's get started, I think you're really going to like it here," Minerva said with a grin as she started making her way down the corridor. Buffy followed, keeping up with the other girl's quick pace. "You're currently on the second floor, where the guest quarters are. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws have dormitories in the towers, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins live in the dungeons. Teachers are scattered around the castle, their quarters usually connecting with their offices so that they can be available day or night."
"Good to know," Buffy replied. She was curious about something, and although Hogwarts, A History covered it a bit, she hadn't gotten very far before falling asleep and now that Minerva had mentioned the houses, the question rose in her mind again. "Could you maybe explain the house system to me?"
"Sure," Minerva replied, her eyes shining a little as she talked animatedly. "The houses were named after the four founders, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Back at the start of the school, the founders hand picked the students they wanted to teach; Gryffindor wanted the ones who were brave, Ravenclaw wanted the ones who were smart, Hufflepuff wanted the ones with a good work ethic and Slytherin wanted the cunning ones. Gryffindor was the one who realized that while witches and wizards lived longer than Muggles, they wouldn't be around forever. So he and the other founders figured out a way to charm Gryffindor's hat so that it could pick out the students that best suited the personalities the founders preferred. To this day, new students have Gryffindor's hat placed on their heads, and it decides what house they belong in."
"That's… kind of creepy, really," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I mean, if you think about it, it's a possessed hat rooting around in your head to decide your fate. No thanks."
"Well, if you put it that way…" Minerva said, pensive for a moment. "I suppose you'd be correct. Everyone has a certain expectation of each house. If you're a Slytherin, people assume you're evil. If you're a Hufflepuff, people expect you to be a pushover, and so on and so forth."
"And what are you?" Buffy asked.
"Me?" Minerva asked. "I'm a Gryffindor."
"And Tom Riddle?" Buffy asked, curious.
"Oh, him," Minerva said with a wrinkle of her nose. "I assume you've had the pleasure?"
"Yeah, we've met," Buffy replied. "Although I wouldn't call it a pleasurable experience. So, what is he? No, wait, let me guess… he's a Slyther-whatsit, isn't he?"
"A Slytherin, yes," Minerva said, sniffing a little in disdain at Buffy's mistake. "Personification of a snake if I ever saw one."
"He's really that bad, huh?" Buffy said.
"Worse," Minerva replied. "And the worst part is, the teachers are completely blind to him! Most of us, especially the older students, know Riddle's true colours, but since he's so charming and so perfect in front of the teachers no one believes any of us!"
"Don't worry, I don't think all of the teachers see him that way," Buffy said as they continued walking. She had a feeling that Dumbledore could see through Riddle's façade, something she was eternally grateful for.
"How do you know?" Minerva said, looking at Buffy sharply. It was obvious that she didn't believe Buffy.
"Well, there's always at least one teacher that can see through the crap, right?" Buffy said, her mind instantly going to Giles. She felt a pang of homesickness hit her then, realizing that she may not get to see her family and friends again.
"I suppose you're right," Minerva conceded. Buffy got the feeling that this girl didn't like admitting that other people were right.
Just then a loud, sad moan echoed through the hallway as Buffy and Minerva walked through a puddle. Buffy glanced at the floor; sure enough, about half an inch of water covered the floor, and it appeared to be coming from underneath a door.
"What the hell was that?" Buffy asked, glancing at Minerva.
"This bathroom's been like that since last year, when…" Minerva trailed off, swallowing hard.
"When what?" Buffy asked, glancing at the other girl. It was obvious that she found it difficult to speak about whatever had happened in there.
"It's been like that since… since someone found Myrtle's body in there last year," Minerva replied softly. "She was a third year Hufflepuff. We think she might be haunting the bathroom, but everyone's too scared to go in there."
"Let's leave her in peace then," Buffy said, shivering slightly. Ghosts scared the crap out of Buffy, having been possessed by one the previous school year and she didn't quite feel comfortable being near another one, and probably wouldn't be any time soon.
"Good idea," Minerva said. The two girls quickened their pace, sloshing through the water as fast as they could. As soon as they were free of the water and on dry ground again, Buffy looked down at her boots and frowned.
"I hope that didn't ruin my boots," she said, turning her foot every which way to inspect the aforementioned article of clothing. It didn't look damaged at first glance, but things could arise after the leather dried.
"Those aren't standard uniform issue, are they?" asked Minerva, examining the boots.
"Nope," Buffy replied. "I'm not a student, just visiting."
"Then why are you wearing the uniform?" Minerva asked, arching an eyebrow. Buffy began to sweat; she and Dippet hadn't gone through a cover story for her to stick to.
"Because she wanted to immerse herself in the Hogwarts culture," another voice interjected. Buffy spun around, and was very relieved to see Dumbledore standing there. "Isn't that right, Miss Summers?"
"Yes Professor Dumbledore, that's correct," Buffy said, catching on immediately. She may be blonde, but she was far from dumb.
"Oh, I see," Minerva said, her eyes narrowing a little in suspicion. Dumbledore patted the Head Girl on the shoulder reassuringly.
"Would you mind it terribly if I joined you on your tour?" he asked.
Minerva looked at Buffy, who just shrugged and nodded. In all truthfulness, she was glad that Dumbledore had stumbled upon them just then. They hadn't gone through a cover story, and Dumbledore seemed to be much more adept at thinking on his feet. Not that Buffy couldn't, but it was just easier for her to let him take the lead on this; he was, after all, much more familiar with this world and this time and this school, and therefore he'd probably be able to make up a much more plausible cover story than she could.
"I suppose it's all right," Minerva said.
And that was the beginning of Dumbledore's show stealing, although Buffy was sure Minerva didn't mind much. Dumbledore had a gift for storytelling and a memory to match. Every time they happened on some landmark or another, he had a story to tell. He even had one about the bathroom; Dumbledore had had to relieve himself in the middle of the night, and instead of happening on a restroom he found a room full of chamber pots.
"Potty humour, just what I needed," Buffy said with a giggle. It felt good to laugh, even though most of the time it felt like she wasn't going to be happy for a while. She missed her friends, and her mother. And Giles, can't forget Giles.
"Well, here is my office, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said as the trio stopped in front of a large oak door.
"Is there anything else you need for me, Professor Dumbledore sir?" Minerva asked.
"No, no my dear, although I may call upon you to show Miss Summers back to her room when I'm done with her," Dumbledore replied. Minerva nodded and turned, strolling away and leaving Buffy alone with Dumbledore. "Would you care to step into my office?"
"O-okay," Buffy said, stammering a little. She was having flashbacks to when she first arrived in Sunnydale and Principal Flutie had asked her to see him in his office. While she knew that he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable when talking about her past, rehashing things that she'd done really made her realize how much she'd screwed up before coming to Sunnydale. She just hoped Dumbledore wouldn't do the same thing.
"Come in, sit," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the squishy armchair in front of his desk. Buffy gingerly sat down on the edge of the seat, more than a little nervous. "Would you like some tea?"
"Only if you're making some for yourself," Buffy replied.
"Cream? Sugar?" Dumbledore asked; Buffy nodded 'yes' for both. Waving his wand, two teacups magically appeared on the desk. Gingerly taking her cup, Buffy took an experimental sniff. "I haven't drugged it, you know. Drink up, it will make you feel better."
"I wasn't…" Buffy stared before seeing the merry twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes. Buffy blushed a little in embarrassment when she realized he was joking with her. A teacher who can joke, who woulda thunk it? she thought as she sipped her tea.
"You're probably wondering why I asked you here," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers and gazing at her over his half moon spectacles.
"As long as I'm not in trouble, I'm not too worried," Buffy replied with a shrug.
"Why would you be in trouble, child?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled. "You've barely left your room."
"Hey, there's some people back home who would have suspended me for breathing too loudly," Buffy replied with a small smile. She was right, Snyder probably would have suspended her for breathing too loudly if he thought he could get away with it.
"Dreadful thought," Dumbledore said absently. He sat there, looking pensive, for a few long moments before speaking again. "What do you know of magic, Miss Summers? From your own dimension, I mean."
"Most magicks are done by invoking the magic and energy of the earth, or calling upon the gods and goddesses to do your work," Buffy replied. "I don't know a lot about it, Giles and Willow were more of the mojo makers."
"Mojo makers?" asked Dumbledore curiously.
"Mojo is magic, magic is mojo," Buffy clarified.
"Ah, I see. Very clever way of naming it," Dumbledore said sagely. "But you… you haven't practiced any magic?"
"I'm more of a hand-to-hand kind of gal," Buffy replied with a shrug.
"Would you like to learn?" Dumbledore asked. "Provided you have the aptitude for it, of course."
"No, absolutely not," Buffy said vehemently. Dumbledore blinked, surprised at Buffy's fervent refusal of his offer. Most Muggles would jump at the chance to learn magic… didn't they? Then again, he had temporarily forgotten that Buffy wasn't like most Muggles or even really a Muggle at all.
"Why not, child?" Dumbledore asked. He was genuinely curious as to why someone who had magic in her very being, her line created by magic, could be so vehement against it.
"Magic and Buffy don't mix. Period," Buffy replied, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "I won't do it, not after what I've seen."
"What if I told you that the magic we practice is different from the type that you are used to?" Dumbledore asked. "We channel everything through a wand and there are strict tenants against giving undead things their souls back and bringing people back to life and things like that. Will you at the very least see if you have the aptitude for magic? We can make a decision after that, and I'll try not to pressure you into anything you don't want to do."
Yeah, sure, try, Buffy thought with a snort. But I guess it can't hurt to try, right? "Sure, I'll give it a whirl," Buffy replied with a shrug.
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, pulling out his own wand and carefully handing it to Buffy. "It won't be attuned to you, but it will react if you are capable of performing wand magic."
Buffy gingerly took the wand, the wood warm in her hand. As soon as she touched it, it felt like the wood began to hum. A few sparks emitted from the tip of the wand as a breeze blew through the office, despite the fact that the windows were closed.
"Well, I think we have our answer right there," Dumbledore said, a pleased smile spreading across his face. Buffy stared at the wand, then at Dumbledore, and then back at the wand.
What had she gotten herself into?