Chapter 12
Buffy blinked, unsure if she had heard Quentin properly. Edna Giles? Maybe she's related to my Giles, she thought.
"Hey Buffy, are you okay?" Quentin asked, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention. "I didn't say anything to offend you, did I?"
"No, no, nothing like that," Buffy replied, shaking her head a little. "I was just wondering if she was related to a friend of mine, who also has the last name Giles. He's British, as well."
"It's entirely possible," Quentin replied with a shrug. "But then again, I think Giles might be a pretty common surname. You might be able to ask her, if you get on her good side."
"Maybe," Buffy said absently, her mind going a mile a minute as they walked.
For the first time, she wished that she had paid attention to what little she knew about Giles. Was he even old enough to have already been born? She was pretty sure that he was older than her mother, but she couldn't be certain. She didn't know much about his family, except that he came from a whole family of Watchers. Oh, and that he hadn't wanted to be a Watcher, but maybe a fighter pilot or a grocer.
"Buffy, do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Quentin asked curiously, breaking Buffy from her thoughts. "You've drifted off a couple of times today already. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Peachy, side of keen. No hospital wing for Buffy," Buffy reassured him, patting his arm and smiling brightly at him. "Now, let's get this class over with. Shall we?"
"We shall," Quentin agreed as he led them into the half full classroom. Buffy followed him to a table near the middle of the room. The professor was already at the front of the classroom, puttering around, and as Buffy took her seat she watched her, trying to see if Giles had picked up any of the woman's mannerisms.
Before long, the rest of the class had filed into the room. As Professor Giles turned to face the class to call it to order, her gaze fell on Buffy. Their eyes locked for a period of time that seemed to have dragged on longer than it should have. Yep, definitely related to Giles, Buffy thought, not breaking the eye contact. They have the same eyes. A flash of recognition crossed Professor Giles' face before she straightened and addressed the class as a whole.
"Good morning, class," she greeted, a small smile on her face. "Please turn to page two hundred and forty four, and we will begin the lesson there."
Buffy took out her textbook and flipped to the page as instructed. Vampires. Fanged, yellow eyed monsters with bumpy foreheads and a bit of a blood addiction vampires. Oh crap, Buffy thought, glancing at the professor. The older woman didn't give anything away as she flipped through her notes.
"Ooh, goody, my favourite," Quentin said gleefully. Buffy turned her gaze to the person who was quickly becoming her closest friend at Hogwarts and saw that he was practically vibrating with excitement and his eyes were so bright they could be described as glowing.
"Now then, let's see who has done some extra reading, and who hasn't," Professor Giles began. "Miss Summers, can you please tell me some of the ways one might defeat a vampire?"
"Um, light it on fire with a spell?" Buffy suggested. Professor Giles looked at her and arched an eyebrow at her. As Quentin's hand flew into the air, Buffy blinked innocently, trying not to give away anything about what she really knew.
"That might work, although what would you do if you were deprived of your wand?" Professor Giles asked curiously.
"Run like the wind and hope that the vampire doesn't want to work for his dinner?" Buffy suggested hopefully. The rest of the class snickered. By this time, Quentin was practically jumping out of his seat, his hand flailing wildly in the air.
"Put your hand down, Mr. Trimble," Professor Giles said, smiling in such a way a grandmother would smile at a favourite grandchild. Quentin lowered his hand and slumped in his seat, sulking. "I already know you know the answer. The question is, does Miss Summers?"
"She wouldn't know the answer, Professor," Quentin said. "Buffy was born and raised in the muggle world and didn't know she was a witch until a few weeks ago."
"Is that so?" Professor Giles asked with an arched eyebrow. "How… unfortunate. I suppose that can't be helped, then. For the rest of the class, please read the chapter on vampires. If you have completed the reading, then please copy down the questions on the blackboard and begin answering them. They are due at the beginning of the next lesson, so if you get them done today you won't have any homework. You may discuss your answers with your partner, although if it gets too loud in here I will cast a silencing charm. Any questions, feel free to ask me."
The students got to work, either reading or writing; it wasn't long before the classroom was filled with the sounds of pages turning, quills scratching and the murmur of hushed conversation. Buffy started to read, although she needn't have bothered. It was mostly information that she had covered with Giles, although the chapter did go into some depth about some more notable vampires in history, in particular the Order of Aurelius, started by Joseph Nast, now known simply as The Master.
"Why would Professor Giles think you knew about vampires?" Quentin whispered as Buffy began copying down the questions.
"No clue," Buffy replied, examining the words on the paper. She had grabbed a bottle of purple ink that day. Well, I suppose it's better than neon pink, she thought. She made a mental note to go through the bottles of ink that Dumbledore had given her, otherwise she might end up grabbing a bottle of invisible ink one of these days.
"She must know something about you that the rest of us don't," Quentin said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion at the professor.
"Or maybe she just likes picking on poor, uneducated Americans like me," Buffy joked. Quentin's eyes narrowed further in suspicion before he turned back to his work.
The rest of the lesson passed quietly and without incident, although Buffy got the feeling that she was being watched. it didn't take a rocked scientist to figure out who the culprit was. She shouldn't have been surprised that when the bell rang for lunch, Professor Giles called her back.
"Miss Summers, a word please?" she asked politely as the class gathered their things.
"Buffy, do you need me to wait around for you?" Quentin asked as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. "I promise I won't wander off this time."
"No, I'm fine," Buffy replied, waving him off. "I'll catch up."
With a smile and a jaunty wave, Quentin turned and left the classroom, the last student to leave besides Buffy.
Professor Giles stood perfectly still until she was certain that the last of her students had left the immediate vicinity. With a wave of her wand, the classroom door closed with a click, and after a muttered spell the room was eerily quiet, no sounds from the corridor permeating the thick stone walls.
"You know, I never thought I'd see one at Hogwarts," Professor Giles said thoughtfully as she approached Buffy. "Potentials who are also witches are usually stricken from all records when they are taken by the Watcher's Council. My question is, what are you doing here? And where is your Watcher?"
"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked, feigning ignorance. She just hoped it worked. "You sound crazy, Professor."
"I'm talking about the Slayer," Professor Giles replied. "You are the Slayer, aren't you? If you are, what are you doing here? The One Girl in All the World isn't really doing her duty if she is holed up in a castle day and night, now is she?"
"Didn't anyone tell you?" Buffy asked. "The Slayer is a myth. Something to comfort the kiddies in the night when they're scared of the boogeyman under the bed."
"That's what the Council wants the wizarding world to think," Professor Giles retorted. "The Slayer is meant to protect the mundane humans, the ones that don't know about what goes on after the dark. Wizards and witches have magic, they can handle themselves just fine."
"How can you be sure I'm her?" Buffy asked, genuinely curious. She'd always wanted to know how both Merrick and Giles had known she was the Slayer when they first saw her, but had never thought to ask. She might get an answer now. "Assuming I believe you, of course."
"A Watcher, especially one that comes from a long line of Watchers, always knows when the Slayer is about," Professor Giles replied. "Being a Watcher is like being a Slayer – a calling that cannot be denied. The Slayer and the Watcher's Council have been intertwined from the beginning, and they will never be parted. Now, you have not answered my questions. What are you doing here? And where is your Watcher?"
"Professors Dippet and Dumbledore both know I'm here and what I am," Buffy replied. "At least, they know what I think I am. The question I have is, why didn't they tell you? Don't they know you were a Watcher?"
"How did you know I was a Watcher?" Professor Giles asked.
"You practically admitted it," Buffy replied. "You said a Watcher always knows when a Slayer is about, and you knew what I was as soon as you saw me."
"So, you do admit that you're the Slayer," Professor Giles stated. Buffy sighed and nodded once in confirmation. "I must contact the Watcher's Council immediately. They must know of your whereabouts so that they can place you where you are needed most."
"You shouldn't do that," Buffy said as Professor Giles headed to the fireplace behind the desk.
"And why should I do what a student suggests?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you," Buffy replied uncertainly. "It might be a good idea if we spoke to Dumbledore about this first."
"Why Professor Dumbledore and not Professor Dippet?" Professor Giles asked suspiciously.
"Because Professor Dumbledore seemed much more receptive of the fact that the Slayer is real and not just a fairy tale," Buffy replied with a shrug. "But if you wanna talk to Dippet and have him think we're both nuts, then by all means, talk to Dippet."
"I suppose it doesn't really matter who we talk to, as they seem to be pretty even partners in running this school," Professor Giles said with a sigh. "Come along, let's see if Professor Dumbledore is in his office."
"Bye bye lunch," Buffy muttered as she followed Professor Giles out of the classroom.
"You're a Slayer, you can easily function on one meal a day," she said with a scoff as she led them out of the classroom.
"Doesn't mean I like missing meals," Buffy grumbled, closing the classroom door behind her.
It was a long and silent walk to Dumbledore's office a couple of floors up. The few students who saw them gave them curious glances, but no one stopped them. Professor Giles knocked crisply on the door and stood back and waited. Buffy could hear movement from inside and it was mere moments before the door was pulled open.
"Professor Giles, Miss Summers, what a pleasant surprise," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Please, come in."
Professor Giles pushed past Dumbledore and hurried into the office, Buffy following closely behind. She smiled apologetically at the older professor as he closed his office door and sat back down behind his desk.
"What brings you here this afternoon?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes still twinkling merrily. Buffy was almost certain that he already knew why they were there.
"Did you know that Miss Summers here is the Vampire Slayer?" Professor Giles asked.
"I believe Miss Summers mentioned that when she arrived, yes," Dumbledore replied. "I, in turn, informed her that the Slayer is a myth in this world and that by all accounts, she should not exist."
"Then you should also know that I am a former Watcher of the Watcher's Council," Professor Giles continued. "You do know what a Watcher does, don't you?"
"I believe, from what I have read, the Watcher trains and guides the Slayer, correct?" Dumbledore asked. Professor Giles nodded in confirmation and Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. Buffy wasn't sure if she liked where this conversation was going. She didn't want to leave the school. It was familiar, she was making friends, and these people would be the ones that would be able to help her get home, if it was even possible to do so. "I see. I don't, however, see how this is relevant to anything, Professor Giles."
"We need to contact the Watcher's Council at once!" Professor Giles exclaimed, pink splotches forming on her cheeks. She was a lot different from her own Giles; he always seemed cool, calm and collected. This woman, at that moment, seemed anything but. "The Slayer can't be here at Hogwarts when she is most definitely needed elsewhere. Can't you see that, Professor Dumbledore?"
"I think that, if you were to contact your Watcher's Council, they would tell you that the Slayer is right where she is supposed to be, and they would never have heard of Miss Summers," Dumbledore replied.
"I don't understand," Professor Giles said, deflating a bit. Curiosity crossed her features, and Buffy was certain that her secret was going to be less of a secret before they left the office.
"And you shan't understand fully, unless Miss Summers gives her consent," Dumbledore replied, his gaze fixing on Buffy. "Do you want Professor Giles to know your secret?"
"Seriously, what happened to Secret Identity Girl?" Buffy asked with a huff, crossing her arms across her chest. "Fine, if it means that I get to stick around her a little while longer, Professor Giles can know. But I'm not going to be happy about it."
"I didn't suspect you would be," Dumbledore replied, the twinkle all but gone from his eye. "Professor Giles, what I am about to tell you is not to leave this room. I don't think I need to tell you what may happen to you if you do tell someone about this. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Professor Giles confirmed with a decisive nod.
"Miss Summers is not from this time," Dumbledore said. Way to ease into it, Buffy thought, trying not to laugh at the expression on Professor Giles' face. A fish out of water would have been an apt description.
"But… but… but that's impossible!" Professor Giles sputtered. "Time travel is immensely unstable. Just how far into the future did she come from?"
"And yet it is not," Dumbledore countered mildly. "As for how many years she travelled back, that I am not at liberty to say. That is something that only Miss Summers has the authority to reveal, although I encourage her not to. Things will unfold as they have unfolded in Miss Summers' past, our future, and nothing we do now can change it."
"How do you know she's telling the truth?" Professor Giles asked.
"She is sitting right here," Buffy grumbled.
"Do you honestly think that someone would make up such an intricate lie?" Dumbledore asked. "It would be far too difficult to keep up, unless it was the truth."
"I suppose so," Professor Giles said with a sigh. "What kind of cover story are you using? Something to explain why you have no contact with your family and friends at home?"
"I was born on a mystical convergence and both muggle and magical means of communication can't get to me here," Buffy replied. "It seems to be working so far."
"And what do you plan to do when people begin to realize that you're lying through your teeth?" Professor Giles asked.
"I've only been going to classes for two days. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Can I go now? I want to see if I can snag some lunch before Herbology."
"Yes, I think we're done here for now," Dumbledore said, dismissing her with a wave. "Have a good afternoon, Miss Summers."
"I'm expecting a perfect score on the questions I set for homework, Miss Summers," Professor Giles added.
Buffy got up from the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, leaving the office as quickly as she could without actually running. She was not particularly happy with the fact that someone else knew about her "secret identity" now; she was really trying to keep it a secret this time around. She just hoped that her new friends didn't find out about what she was and where she was from.
She headed towards the Great Hall, hoping that she had enough time to grab a bite to eat before heading to her next class, although she doubted that would be the case. She knew her Herbology class would take place outside in one of the greenhouses, and she hoped that she would run into Quentin on her way out so that she wouldn't be wandering around the chilly grounds all by her lonesome. Not her idea of fun in the slightest.
Finally reaching the Great Hall, Buffy sighed to herself when she saw that a lot of the students were leaving. She resigned herself to skipping lunch and having to wait until dinner, which wasn't a huge loss because she was a Slayer and could easily survive on one meal a day, although as she had said, she didn't like skipping meals. It meant far fewer questions if she made an appearance at all meals and made it look like she ate.
"Buffy! Hey, Buffy!"
Smiling, Buffy turned at the sound of the familiar voice hailing her. Quentin's stride quickened to a jog as he made an attempt to close the distance between them quicker.
"Here, I saved you a sandwich because I wasn't sure if you were going to make it to lunch on time," he said, a little breathless, as he handed her a sandwich wrapped in a napkin. "I got one of the safe ones. Ham and cheese."
"Thank you!" Buffy said happily, taking the proffered sandwich and unwrapping it as they started walking again, heading for the Entrance Hall. "And here I was, thinking I'd have to go without lunch. You're the best."
"Well, I couldn't just let you starve, now could I?" Quentin replied with a smile. "So, what did Professor Giles want? Nothing too horrible, seeing you survived and all."
"She thought I was lying about my lack of knowledge in class," Buffy replied with a shrug, hoping he'd buy her story. "She seemed to think that no one could be that stupid, even someone who wasn't raised with magic."
"You're not stupid, you just haven't been taught the stuff you need to know," Quentin said with a shrug. "There's a huge difference between being stupid and being untaught."
Buffy nodded as they continued walking out of the castle and onto the grounds before heading down the short path that led to the greenhouses. Buffy shivered as the chilly October wind permeated her thick robes. She had only been gone for less than a week and she was already missing California. A lot.
"Cold, Buffy?" Quentin asked, amused.
"No, I'm just shivering for the heck of it," Buffy replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I'm used to warmer weather. The cold sucks."
"You're going to love it in winter, then," Quentin said with a grin. "Lots and lots of white, fluffy snow as far as the eye can see."
"Maybe I can just hibernate this winter, like bears do," Buffy grumbled as they reached the greenhouse, polishing off her sandwich before entering. They entered with more than enough time to spare before the end of class, glad that they weren't at risk of being late. Two detentions in a row was not something Buffy wanted to experience.
The class began and it continued on without any major occurrences. The plants were interesting in the way that they moved around and were more alive than plant-like, but nothing tried to kill the students and the teacher didn't target Buffy for being new. Riddle wasn't in the class, so that was one less distraction for Buffy. All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable classes Buffy had had in the two whole days she'd been taking classes.
"I really wish this class didn't end," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose as she and Quentin headed back to the castle.
"You liked it so well, then?" Quentin asked, curious.
"Not particularly," Buffy replied. "I just realized that the closer we get to the end of the day, the closer I get to spending time with Tom Riddle in a cold, dark, dank dungeon learning about potions."
"You'll be fine," Quentin said reassuringly.
"Easy for you to say," Buffy replied with a scoff. "You don't have to spend the time with him."
"I still think you'll be fine," Quentin reassured her. "He seems to like you, which means he'll probably be nice to you. I don't know if that reassures me or worries me."
"I'd go with reassurance for now," Buffy said, patting his arm. "Come on, I wanna dump most of this stuff before dinner. Only want to be carrying the bare essentials, you know?"
"Dinner's not for a while," Quentin commented. "Maybe we should get a start on some of that homework set in the last couple of days. If anyone needs to keep up with their studies, it's you."
"Don't remind me," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose as they entered the castle and began heading up to Gryffidnor Tower. As soon as they entered, they were hailed by Terrence, Minerva and Augusta, who were sitting in their own little corner of the common room.
"Just let us put our bags away and we'll be right down," Quentin told them before he and Buffy split off in their own separate ways to their own dorm rooms. Once she got there, Buffy dumped her books onto her bed and grabbed her potions kit and textbook, stuffing them into the bag before slinging it over her shoulder and heading back down the stairs. She honestly didn't want to spend any more time in the room than she had to; while she had only interacted with Ursula so far, she noticed that the rest of the girls in her year hung off of her much like the Cordettes had done so with Cordelia. While she knew that judging a book by its cover wasn't the best way to go about judging people, what she had seen so far hadn't warmed her to the rest of the girls she shared a dorm with.
Sighing, Buffy checked to make sure she had everything, grabbing her Charms book and Defence Against the Dark Arts materials at last minute, before she turned and left the room. As she exited, she ran into Ursula on her way up.
"Hi Buffy!" she said cheerfully, a smile plastered on her face. However, the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Where are you off to? Have any plans tonight?"
"Just studying before dinner, tutoring afterwards," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Nothing too exciting."
"Right, of course, you need lots of extra help, don't you?" Ursula asked, and Buffy nodded. "Well, good luck with that. See you later!"
She brushed past Buffy and headed into their room, leaving Buffy alone in the stairwell. Sighing, she hitched her bag up higher onto her shoulder and headed back down to the common room, trying to push the Cordelia wannabe out of her mind.
"I thought you were dropping your bag off, Buffy," Minerva remarked, her gaze flicking to her bag.
"Nah, just had to do a quick change," Buffy replied. "I'm probably going to be heading back to the dungeons right after dinner, and I didn't want to come all the way back up here to grab my potions stuff."
"Makes sense," Minerva said with a nod.
The mini study session before dinner and dinner itself passed far too quickly for Buffy's taste, and before long she was standing from the Gryffindor table and grabbing her bag before heading down to the dungeons.
"Good luck, Buffy," Augusta said as she stood.
"Sorry we couldn't get you a new tutor for this," Terrence said apologetically.
"Don't worry about it, I'll survive somehow," Buffy replied with a smile has she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and headed out of the Great Hall and through the corridors before descending into the dungeons.
It was not until Buffy had reached the bottom of the stairs and was well into one of the dark and dank dungeon hallways that she realised that she wasn't sure where she was supposed to be going. Tom had said to meet him in the dungeons. He just didn't say which dungeon.
"Looking for someone?"
Buffy jumped, turned and slugged the person who had spoken right next to her ear. The boy, judging by the build and height of the person, reeled back slightly before straightening, holding onto his jaw. When Buffy saw who it was, she felt slightly guilty for lashing out. Only slightly, though.
"Remind me to never sneak up on you again," Riddle muttered, rubbing his jaw. "I was expecting a scream and maybe a little jump, not a fist to the face. And not a girlie slap, either."
"Well, you know me," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Hit first, ask questions later."
"No, I actually don't know you," Riddle said, his eyes sparkling oddly. "But I'd like to, if you'd let me."
"O-okay," Buffy said, a little uneasy. "Are you going to be okay? Because if you want to go to the hospital wing and get that checked out instead, we can do this tutoring thing some other time."
"I'll go if you'll go," Riddle retorted, his eyes flicking to the small wound at her hairline. "You got pretty banged up last night."
"No, no, I'm fine," Buffy replied quickly.
"Do I make you nervous?" Riddle asked, stepping into Buffy's personal space. It was times like these that Buffy wished she were taller. Riddle made her feel tiny indeed, standing at just under six feet tall.
"N-no," Buffy stammered, wondering where the big, bad Slayer in her had gone. With Riddle standing so close, the courage that had her staring down vampires and demons as if they were nothing fled for the hills, leaving a nervous seventeen year old behind.
"Fine then," Riddle said as he placed a gentle hand on her elbow. "Let's get going, shall we? I'm sure you have other plans for the evening after our tutoring session is over."
"You lead, and I follow," Buffy said as Riddle led her into one of the dungeon rooms. It was different than the one that they used for class; it was smaller, warmer and had brighter lighting. It seemed cosier, even though it was still a dungeon room.
"This is one of the rooms the senior students use for extra credit projects," Tom explained. "Slughorn allowed me to use this one instead of the main classroom because I thought it would be more comfortable and informal than using the usual classroom. Are you comfortable now?"
"Not particularly, but let's get this over and done with already," Buffy said, dropping her bag onto the table and taking out her potions kit and textbook.
"Anything I can do to make you comfortable?" Riddle asked as he grabbed a cauldron and some other materials from the storage cupboard against one of the walls.
"Not particularly, unless you can turn England into California," Buffy replied with a shrug. "So, what are we making today?"
"Something simple, a second year potion," Riddle replied. "It's called a Swelling Solution. Can you guess what it's supposed to do?"
"Makes things swell?" Buffy suggested.
"Correct," Riddle confirmed as he began heading towards the supply cabinet, but deciding against it. "What I want you to do is find the potion in the textbook and get the ingredients from the supply cabinet."
"If I'm going to be doing all of the work, what are you here for?" Buffy asked as she opened the book to the correct page after checking the index.
"I'm here to make sure you don't melt the cauldron or blow yourself up," Riddle said smugly as Buffy began reading the textbook to make sure that she knew what she had to get before she got up to get it. "So, California… is that where you grew up?"
"Yep," Buffy replied, popping the "p" at the end as she copied down the ingredients onto a piece of parchment so that she wouldn't be holding onto a large book while grabbing jars of what most likely would be slimy and gross things.
"Nice ink choice, by the way," Tom said as he glanced at her paper, a smirk on his face. "I like it much better than that blinding pink you had yesterday."
"Um, thanks?" Buffy said uncertainly, glancing down at her paper. She hadn't even realized what colour she was writing in. Slytherin green. Figures he'd like that one, Buffy thought as she snatched up her paper and headed over to the storage cabinet with all of the ingredients. Gathering the jars one by one, she held them in her arms and turned to head back to the table, only to be stopped by Riddle standing next to her.
"Do you need any help with that?" he asked, his arms held out to take a couple of the jars.
"Nah, I think I've got it, Riddle," Buffy replied, smiling slightly at him.
"Tom," Tom said as they walked the short distance to the table.
"Pardon?" Buffy asked as she placed the jars onto the table.
"I believe I asked you to call me Tom when we first met," Tom reminded her as Buffy began reading over the potions recipe again. "Have I done something to offend you, Buffy?"
"No," Buffy replied with a shrug.
"Was it something your new friends said about me?" Riddle – no, Tom, Buffy reminded herself – asked, his dark eyes questioning. "Because I assure you, only half of the things they said are probably true."
Buffy glanced at him, and saw that he was smirking in amusement. Buffy smiled slightly, rolling her eyes before going back to her book for a moment before looking up at him again. "So, should I just start making this potion and hope for the best?"
"And if you melt the cauldron, I'll make you write a three foot essay on how you went wrong," Tom said with another smirk. Buffy just rolled her eyes and began setting out the ingredients and preparing them in the way the recipe dictated.
"So, what did your friends say about me?" Tom asked as Buffy sliced, diced, squeezed and generally mutilated the ingredients into the condition they had to be before they had to be put into the potion.
"This, that and the other thing," Buffy said dismissively, dumping ingredients into the cauldron. She glanced at him, curious. "You don't strike me as the type to worry about what most people think."
"I worry about what some people think," Tom replied. "People like you. What do you think of me?"
"A little bold for a Slytherin, aren't you?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.
"And what do you know about Slytherins?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow back at her.
"I've been told that Slytherins are supposed to be sneaky and underhanded," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Isn't in your face, direct question asking more of a Gryffindor trait?"
"And you don't seem to be the type to hold much stock in house stereotypes," Tom remarked. "And you haven't answered my question, Buffy."
"I don't think I know you well enough to form an opinion yet. While you seem charming, things aren't always what they seem at first," Buffy replied. "Is that good enough for you? Because I'd really like to finish this potion before curfew."
"Yes, I believe that is acceptable… for now," Tom said with a smirk.
The questions were put on hold for the time being, and Buffy was allowed to complete her potion. Except for one almost-miss, which Tom pointed out before Buffy could mix in the wrong ingredient, the potion turned out perfectly. At least, it looked like it worked, although the real test would be when they, well, tested it.
"Now, we need to test it," Tom said, picking up a dropper from the tabletop. "Normally, I'd have the person who brewed the potion test it on themselves, but since this is your first potion I'm not going to make you do that. I have an antidote and a Deflating Draught on hand to reverse any ill effects."
Tom dipped the dropper into the potion and extracted a few drops of the liquid. He held out the index finger of his left hand and squeezed a few drops of potion onto it. It swelled to the size of a sausage, causing Buffy to smile at her accomplishment.
"It looks like you'll do fine in Potions this year, Buffy," Tom said as he dipped his finger in the Deflating Draught, making his finger shrink back to its normal size. "I still want to meet with you, though, to make sure that you grasp the concepts of more advanced potions. They're much more complex than a simple Swelling Solution."
"But still, it's pretty good for a first potion, right?" Buffy asked hopefully.
"Yes, it was quite good… for a Gryffindor with no experience whatsoever," Tom replied.
"And that was a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one," Buffy retorted with a snort. "Are we done?"
"Yes, we're done. For now," Tom replied. "Do you need me to escort you back to your common room?"
"No, I'm sure I'll be fine," Buffy said. "It's not like I'll get attacked in the castle or anything."
"Well, if you're sure," Tom said, uncertain.
"Yes, I'm sure," Buffy replied, gathering her things and stowing them in her bag. "I'll see you in class sometime, yeah?"
"Yes," Tom confirmed, nodding slightly. "I suppose I will."
"Well, bye then," Buffy said with a wave and a small smile before turning and heading out of the room and back up to the seventh floor.
She had seven whole floors to ponder the odd, but pleasant, tutoring session she'd had with someone she should, due to both their house affiliations and the fact that he made her "spidey-sense" go haywire, dislike with a passion. However, she was finding it harder and harder to dislike him.
This would definitely give her something to talk about.
xoxoxo
Okay, so here's chapter twelve. I'm sorry I glossed over a lot of the lessons this time around, but if I hadn't this chapter would have been twice as long, half as interesting and probably would have taken at least another week. Teehee.
If anyone's curious, when I picture a teenaged Tom Riddle, I picture Christian Coulson in the part, not the kid they got for Half Blood Prince, Frank Dillane. As for the height, I took it from Ralph Fiennes' height, which is six feet tall.
As usual, I love feedback and would be very happy if you told me what you love and hate about this chapter, and the story as a whole. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.
And now, I go back to reading my new addiction, Big Bang Theory Sheldon/Penny fics. Teehee.