Chapter 17

Okay, what the frack was that? Buffy thought as she watched Tom leave, exiting the alcove soon after once she had made sure the coast was clear. She didn't want to give the Hogwarts rumour mill any more fuel than it already had, although she was certain that there wasn't anything in there about her. If there was, her friend would have told her if she hadn't heard it herself.

"I thought you were heading up to the common room?" Quentin said, spotting her as he exited the Great Hall.

"I – ah – thought I saw something and needed to make with the Slayage," Buffy replied quickly.

"Like Dippet would let anything needing, er, Slayage into the castle," Quentin said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Some of the biggest, baddest beasties aren't let into anywhere," Buffy replied. "Magic can only stop so much."

Quentin looked nearly scandalized at the prospect that magic couldn't stop everything. Sighing, Buffy rolled her eyes at him but didn't say anything.

"Come on, it's Christmas Eve. Let's not talk about goblins and ghoulies and demons," she said, linking her arm in his again.

"You're the one who brought it up," Quentin retorted as they headed back up to Gryffindor tower together.

"And now I'm changing the subject," Buffy shot back. "Come on, you have to be excited about presents tomorrow morning."

"Aren't you?" Quentin asked.

"Hard to be excited about something you're not expecting," Buffy replied as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She gave the password, and before Quentin could ask her about her remark, she bid him good night and headed up to the girls' dormitory, where he would be unable to follow.

Buffy woke the next morning to the sound of the windows rattling in the wind; it sounded like a hell of a storm was brewing. She sighed and stretched; although she had planned on sleeping late and mostly avoiding the holiday cheer, it looked like she was going to be up at the crack of dawn like everyone else. Since she had no family except for her housemates, she didn't want to inflict any depressing feelings she may have on anyone she might come into contact with.

As she stretched, her feet hit something at the end of the bed, and it wasn't her footboard. Sitting up, she was surprised to find a rather small, but no less real, pile of brightly wrapped gifts at the end of the bed. Curious, she scooted to the end of the bed and sat cross legged, reading some of the gift tags. Minerva, Augusta, Terrence, Terrence's little brother Algie (even though she'd never actually formally met him), Quentin, Camille (Quentin's mother) and a small one that didn't have an external tag. She saved that one for last.

Quentin and Minerva had both given her books; Quentin, a copy of The Slayer Mythology and Minerva, a copy of Hogwarts, A History. Terrence, Augusta and Algie had all gotten her various Honeyduke's sweets, which made Buffy a very happy camper. The gift from Quentin's mother put a smile on her face; a hand knit scarf, a tin of home made cookies and an invitation to spend some time with Quentin and his family over the summer if she had no other plans.

This left the rather small box with no tag. It sat in front of her, wrapped in silver paper with a green ribbon; it was quite obvious what house the person giving her this gift was from. It didn't give off any 'evil' vibes as she picked it up and shook it. She was pretty sure who it was from; she was friendly with only one Slytherin, after all. Carefully, Buffy tore open the wrapping paper and was greeted with a plain white box. Opening it, she found a delicate charm bracelet with several charms already attached, and a note. Gingerly picking it up, Buffy opened it and was greeted with a short letter in a familiar, spidery script.

Dear Buffy,

I hope your Christmas is a good one. Professor Slughorn is having a small gathering of a few select students in the New Year before term starts up again. I would be honoured if one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts would accompany me.

Let me know as soon as you can.

Yours,

Tom M. Riddle.

PS: I hope you like your present. I thought something somewhat personalized would stand out amongst the copious amounts of sweets that will doubtlessly find their way into your stack of gifts.

T.M.R.

After carefully placing the note onto the pile of presents on her bed, Buffy picked up the bracelet and examined it. It was mainly a semi-fine silver chain with a few delicate charms on it. The letters "B" and "S", a lion and a cross in silver, and a heart in gold. It was small enough that she would be able to wear it without the bracelet garnering too much attention if it slipped out from underneath her shirt sleeve. As she fastened the bracelet on her wrist, she had a question running through her head.

Should she say yes to Tom's invitation? And if she did, what should she wear?

It wasn't like she could ask any of her friends to borrow their clothes. After all, her friends didn't like Tom, couldn't stand him, really, and would definitely not be agreeable to her going to a party, even as friends, with him. Maybe she could transfigure one of her school uniforms into a dress for the night? If she got started now and practiced enough she'd probably be able to manage something; after all, Dumbledore had said she had a bit of a talent for Transfiguration and transfiguring clothing couldn't be too difficult, could it? She supposed she might have to head to the library for a little bit of research.

The question was, would she be able to spend a little bit of time in the library without Quentin asking too many questions? With the weather being as it was, Buffy was sure she wouldn't have too difficult of a time trying to convince Quentin she didn't want to have a snowball fight after all.

With that thought on her mind, Buffy put on a dressing robe over her pyjamas – Gryffindor red, the whole lot of it, because Dumbledore seemed to think she needed to show off her house alliances even in her sleepwear, apparently – and grabbed the tin of chocolate chip cookies before heading down to the common room, fully prepared of having a breakfast of junk food goodness.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Buffy wasn't surprised to see Quentin already there, curled up on one of the best couches in the common room in front of the fire. She'd never seen him in his pyjamas before and tried very hard not to giggle when she saw that his pyjamas and dressing gown were matching plaid. While she really couldn't talk because her pyjamas and dressing gown also matched, the plaid just seemed that much more amusing.

"Morning," Quentin greeted, sounding a little sleepy.

"Morning yourself," Buffy replied as she flopped down next to him and opened the cookie tin and offered it to him. "Cookie?"

"For breakfast?" Quentin asked, although he grabbed a cookie anyway. "My mum sent you these, didn't she?"

"What was your fist clue?" Buffy asked.

"Well, for one I know my mum's cookies," Quentin replied, taking a bite and swallowing before continuing. "And two, I recognize that cookie tin. What else did she give you?"

"A handmade scarf and an invitation to spend some time with your family over the summer if I can," Buffy replied. "Thank you for the book, by the way. Where in the world did you get it?"

"It, er, came from my personal collection, actually," Quentin replied, a pale pink flush spreading across his cheeks. "I've always liked vampires and I came across the Slayer myth when I was a child. I had to know more, of course, and I was able to find that book in the back of an old used bookstore in Diagon Alley just before I started Hogwarts. I thought you might appreciate it; I've already memorized the thing so it's not like I need it anymore."

"And that thanks goes for double, now," Buffy said with a grateful smile, before something occurred to her. She glanced around and listened for a few moments, making sure that no one was there to overhear them, before she continued. "You don't want to be a Watcher, do you?"

"Well, when I thought the Slayer was just a myth, no," Quentin replied. "But now that I know the Slayer isn't a myth, I kind of want to search out the Watcher's Council just to see if being a Watcher is for me."

"Are you sure you'd be able to do it?" Buffy asked, curious. Quentin struck her as the kind of person who would get attached to his Slayer if he ever got one to train, and she wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it if she died.

"What do you mean?" Quentin asked, puzzled. "Isn't it a lot of demonology research and looking at musty old books?"

"Most of the time, yeah," Buffy replied. "But then there are the Watchers that get to train a Slayer or a Potential. Do you think you'd be able to train someone from a really young age with the prospect that she might be called as a Slayer and won't live for six months after that? Most Slayers die within the first year or so of being Called; I've been lucky."

"I never thought of it that way," Quentin said, quietly. "Life's been hard for you, hasn't it?"

"A bit," Buffy replied. "But it's not all bad. I've got something that very few Slayers in the past had. I've got friends, both here and in California. Not only that, I've got three best friends I'd do practically anything for."

"Oh yeah?" Quentin asked. "That's nice to hear."

"You do know that one of those best friends is you, right?" Buffy asked.

"Really?" Quentin asked. Buffy nodded. "Then that's really nice to hear."

Just then, the wind rattled the common room windows, drawing their attention to the raging wind and swirling snow outside.

"Er, Buffy?" Quentin asked after he caught a glimpse of the raging storm outside.

"Yes, Quentin?" Buffy replied, munching on another cookie.

"You know how you asked me if I wanted to have another snowball fight this afternoon?" he asked. Buffy nodded. "D'you think we could reschedule it or something? I don't fancy dying of exposure out there."

"That's okay, I have to make with the research anyway," Buffy replied. "No big deal."

"This isn't for school, is it?" Quentin asked, curious. "Because I thought you got all of your homework done early on."

"No, this is definitely a personal project. I just want to see if something can be done," Buffy replied.

"Do you need any help?" Quentin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'll let you know if I can't find something," Buffy replied, not really wanting to give away her idea just yet. She didn't want to deal with any questions until later. Much later. Maybe not even at all.

"Do you want to head down to the library now?" Quentin asked. "Because I wanted to look for some new reading material anyway."

"Too early," Buffy replied, wrinkling her nose. If it hadn't been for the storm outside and the flimsy windows, Buffy would still be asleep. "Besides, don't you think we'd get some funny looks 'cause we're still in our jammies?"

"Good point," Quentin replied, snagging another cookie.

"Hey, get your own!" Buffy exclaimed, snatching the tin away.

"But mine are upstairs in my room," Quentin replied with a pout. "I promise I'll share mine when I bring them down."

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Buffy handed over the tin of cookies and they shared the entire tin between the two of them over the course of the morning.

It wasn't until the next morning that Buffy was able to make it to the library. She went alone; Quentin was complaining of a stomach ache, probably from the copious amounts of cookies for breakfast and the humungous Christmas dinner. Buffy was feeling rather heavy as well, but she was also bound and determined to see if she would be able to transfigure her school uniform into something more party appropriate.

When she reached the library around mid morning, Buffy made a beeline for the Transfiguration section, once she was able to find it. As she perused the books, she spotted one that might be able to help her out with her clothing dilemma. As she picked it up, she felt someone familiar nearby. Closing her eyes and stretching her senses, she tried to figure out who it was. Different people made her senses act differently, and she was just beginning to differentiate between all of the different feelings. Finally certain that she had the right person, she smirked slightly to herself before speaking.

"I know you're there, Tom, so you can stop with the sneaky," she said, holding back the laughter when she heard something that could only be described as a whine from the next aisle over. She waited, listening to his footsteps until he came around the corner.

"How did you know it was me?" Tom asked, curious, as he approached.

"I had a feeling," Buffy replied with a shrug. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Tom retorted.

"I beat you to the punch," Buffy shot back. "So make with the 'splainy."

"I followed you," Tom replied.

"Woah, stalker much?" Buffy asked.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk funny?" Tom asked, curious.

"Look at it from my perspective. You all talk funny," Buffy retorted, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "Fess up, stalker-boy. Why are you being all… er… stalker-y."

"You have a way with words, pet," Tom said with a grin. "I followed you because I wanted to make sure you weren't meeting that pillock."

"I wish you wouldn't call my best friend names," Buffy said with a sigh.

"Like he doesn't call me worse," Tom retorted with a snort.

"You're right, he does," Buffy said, and Tom smirked smugly. "But I give him hell about it."

"You like me, don't you?" Tom asked suddenly.

"Well, I don't want you dead in a ditch," Buffy replied. "I told you, I'm not sure what you are to me."

"Have you thought about my invitation?" Tom asked.

"The one to Slughorn's party?" Buffy asked.

"How many invitations have you gotten to go out, woman?" Tom asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"That's something for me to know and you to find out," Buffy retorted with a smirk.

"I think you're bluffing," Tom said, his eyes still narrowed.

"Can't have you thinking you're getting everything handed to you," Buffy said. She was enjoying this, making Tom squirm a little. Served the cocky bastard right; he needed to be taken down a peg or three anyway. She'd heard what he had been like, and while she was glad he wasn't acting like that for the time being, she wasn't so naïve to think that he would stay that way.

"But I always get what I want," Tom said, and gone was the playful flirting and in its place was an intense, lusty look that made Buffy blush.

"You keep believing that and maybe one day it'll come true," Buffy replied, trying to keep her voice light. Tom smirked before swooping in, planting a searing kiss on her before he turned and left her in the middle of the library, wondering what was going on.

"I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at seven thirty on the thirty-first," Tom said with a smile before turning and leaving Buffy standing in the middle of the Transfiguration section of the library holding a book with fashion transfiguration.

"Seriously, what the frack?" Buffy asked to no one before she shook her head and headed to the check out desk, hoping that the book would be able to help her in her plight.

Somehow, Buffy was able to transfigure one of her school uniforms into something that was a little more party appropriate, just in the nick of time, too. She was sure that if it hadn't been for the extra tutoring from Minerva and her own natural aptitude for the subject she might not have succeeded.

As she left the common room on New Year's eve dressed in a grey, cowl neck sweater dress, black wool tights from her uniform and her boots that she had arrived in – the house elves had deemed it time to return them, she supposed, and she definitely wasn't complaining. She knew that she looked good, and hoped that she was dressed up enough. Almost everything was perfect, there was just one more thing to do.

She had to get past Quentin without him asking too many questions about where she was going.

So far, Buffy had had a pretty easy time of keeping Quentin in the dark about her plans for New Year's. She never brought it up and neither did he, and he was busy reading some of the books he had received for Christmas that he didn't really notice when Buffy disappeared for an hour or two at a time to get her outfit ready for the party. She felt a little bad that she was keeping this from him, but she also knew that he would try to convince her not to go because of who had invited her.

Quentin had still been in the Great Hall when Buffy slipped away to get ready for her night out. It had been easy enough; he still had a huge pile of food in front of him and had only vaguely waved good bye when Buffy told him that she wanted to head back to her room to read. Tom had smiled knowingly when he had heard this, and it took all of her willpower not to smack him on the back of the head as she passed by him, lest she raise everyone's suspicions. She shuddered at the thought of how the rumour mill would react if it ever got out that Buffy Summers, Gryffindor darling, had went on a date with the Slytherin Prince.

Not that she cared. Not really. Okay, maybe a little.

She was dressed and done up and on her way out when a wrench was thrown into her plans. Quentin had come back to Gryffindor Tower earlier than Buffy had expected; he was entering and she was exiting.

"I thought you said you were going back to your room to read?" Quentin asked, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"Thought I'd head down to the library a bit, pick up something else," Buffy replied. In preparation for something like this, Buffy had worn her school robe over her dress.

"I'll come with you," Quentin said quickly. "There was some Defence Against the Dark Arts research I wanted to do."

"I thought you finished all of your Defence work?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Extra research," Quentin replied with a shrug.

"Are you sure the Hat didn't want to put you in Ravenclaw?" Buffy shot back. "'Cause you know, you're all with the excessive studying."

"What about you?" Quentin retorted. "You've been spending way too much time in the library as of late. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"I'm cramming five years of education on top of the stuff I have to learn this year. I'm surprised I'm not practically living there," Buffy said, crossing her arms across her chest. "Do you think I'm hiding something from you?"

"Well, you've been kind of secretive lately," Quentin replied. "I mean, hiding in your room, spending tons of time in the library, or so you claim. How do I know you're not secretly off meeting someone?"

"And what if I am?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know," Quentin replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I guess I'd be a little upset that you're hiding something so big from me. We're supposed to be best friends."

They were still standing half in the portrait hole, Buffy on her way out and Quentin on his way in. If they weren't careful, a student from another house would come by and see exactly where the Gryffindor common room. While some students, like Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl knew where the other houses were located in case of an emergency, it wasn't common knowledge for the majority of the students.

"I know, and we are," Buffy said. "Look, can we cool off a bit and talk about this later? I don't want to have this turn into a screaming match because we're acting all crazy."

"Agreed. But you better make with the 'splainy, and do it quick," Quentin replied, before groaning. "You're becoming a bad influence on me. Maybe a little bit of time apart would be a good thing."

"Thank goodness I was going to go out for a walk anyway," Buffy said with a small smile. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah, see you in the morning," Quentin agreed. They passed by each other in the portrait hole, Buffy leaving and Quentin entering. It wasn't until she heard the portrait of the Fat Lady click shut that she took off her Gryffindor robe, revealing the outfit. The charm bracelet jingled slightly as she walked, quickly, to the Entrance Hall, hoping that Tom hadn't thought she was going to stand him up, even though she hadn't actually said she would go with him.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up," Tom said with a smirk as she made her way down the last staircase leading to the Entrance Hall. She crossed the Hall and reached Tom's side in no time. "Did someone have to make excuses to the boyfriend to keep him from being suspicious?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Buffy retorted.

"But you did have to make excuses," Tom said. "Are you ashamed of the fact that you're going to a party with me?"

"Aren't you ashamed of me?" Buffy asked. "Gryffindors and Slytherins don't associate as a rule."

"Ah, but Slytherins always strive to be and have the best," Tom replied. "And you are the best, despite the fact that you're a Gryffindor."

"I feel so loved," Buffy said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "So, what's this shindig all about? Some of your Slytherin friends getting together for some good old fashioned end of the year rowdiness?"

"Not quite," Tom replied with a chuckle. "Have you heard of the Slug Club?"

Of course she had heard of the Slug Club; it was Hogwarts' worst kept secret. A group of elite students would meet with Professor Slughorn once in a while, regular meetings and parties during various holidays. Obviously, Buffy wasn't a member; she didn't know what the requirements were to become a member of the Slug Club, but she was sure that if Slughorn knew her little secret she'd be invited, no questions, but that wasn't something she was going to use her status as Slayer for. The fewer people who knew, the safer Hogwarts would be.

"Yeah, I know about it," Buffy replied. "This is one of those parties, isn't it?"

"Yes," Tom replied. "If you don't want to go, that's fine. Although you definitely look ravishing enough to fit right in."

"Um, thank you?" Buffy said. The compliment was a little backhanded, just like most of the ones he gave her, but decided to ignore it, for now. Ass kicking could come later if need be; he might be bigger than her, but she could still easily take him if the wands were tossed to the side. And, if she got close enough, wands would be tossed to the side.

"Let's head down to the dungeons already, I'm sure Slughorn will be wondering where I ran off to," Tom remarked as he offered his arm to her. She took it, and together they headed down to the dungeons. "You know, that dress is quite fetching. Wherever did you find the time to procure it?"

"I'm handy with a wand," Buffy replied with a small smile, before the words ran through her personal filter. When they did, she realized how naughty they sounded and hoped that Tom didn't catch on to it.

"I bet you are," Tom murmured and Buffy blushed as they approached the dungeon room. Loud, happy voices were issuing from it and even though they were in the dungeons it was lit brightly by many candles and wall sconces.

"Ah, Tom my boy, so glad you could make it," Slughorn said, approaching as they entered. "And the delightful Miss Summers, such a surprise to see you. I would have thought you went home for the holidays."

"I wish I could have, but it was just easier for me to stay at the castle this year," Buffy replied, wondering for the first time how they were going to deal with the fact that she wouldn't be going home for the summer holidays, either. It was definitely something she needed to discuss with Dumbledore, but that could wait until the winter term started up. Right now, the only thing she had on her mind this evening was having fun. "Tom was kind enough to ask me to accompany him to this party so I wouldn't be lonely."

"That's my Tom, always thinking of others," Slughorn said jovially. "Have a pleasant evening, you two."

Slughorn wandered off, leaving Tom and Buffy to fend for themselves. He led Buffy over to a small refreshment table; pumpkin juice and butterbeer were offered, as were some finger foods. Since most of the people at the party had been at dinner earlier in the evening, there wasn't a lot of food there, but enough to keep the belly rumbling at bay.

"Pumpkin juice or butterbeer?" Tom asked, gesturing to the table of drinks.

"Butterbeer, definitely," Buffy replied. She honestly couldn't stand pumpkin juice, having tried it early on and finding that she really couldn't stomach it. She definitely thought pumpkins should be kept in pies.

"Two butterbeers it is, then," Tom said, grabbing two and handing one of them to her before he led them to where several sixth and seventh years were sitting. Tom sat down on a squishy armchair and patted his lap, indicating that he wanted Buffy to sit on it.

"I don't think so," Buffy replied with a smile as she perched on the arm of his chair, seeing as there were no other seats nearby and she didn't know anyone else in the room.

Even though Buffy didn't know anyone in the room, they obviously knew who she was. At least, what house she was in if the sideways glances she and Tom got were any indication. After all, it was very strange to see a Gryffindor and a Slytherin sitting together and getting along. After everyone got used to the idea of a Gryffindor and Slytherin getting along, and even enjoying each other's company, the atmosphere relaxed and everyone was having a good time.

Everything was normal until the clock began chiming at midnight. What happened next would give the rumour mill tons to work with once the gossips caught wind of it.

As the clock struck midnight, Tom got a devilish smirk on his face, and before Buffy could stop him he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy hissed as he clamped his arms around her waist to ensure that she wouldn't be able to escape. She stole a glance at the other people in the room; everyone else were either wrapped up in their own conversations or engaging in a customary New Year's kiss.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow. "I don't know how you do it over in the colonies, but over here it's customary to kiss someone when the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve."

He leaned in and Buffy's eyes fluttered closed as their lips met yet again. Assuming it would be a small peck of a kiss, Buffy started to pull away, only to find Tom's fingers in her hair as he pulled her back to him. Lips crashed together and soon it was more than a kiss, with lips and tongues and fingers running through hair. Tom was well on his way to looking thoroughly mussed and Buffy on her way to being thoroughly snogged when someone threw a balled up napkin at them. Breaking apart, they saw a seventh year, Buffy thought he was in Ravenclaw, smirking at them.

"There's a difference between a New Year's kiss and all out snogging," he said. "Get a room, you two."

Buffy blushed and Tom smirked as the Ravenclaw boy sauntered away. The party was beginning to wind down; people were leaving, saying good bye to Professor Slughorn and grabbing a couple of nibbles on the way out.

"Should we take his advice?" Tom asked, waggling his eyebrows slightly.

"What advice?" Buffy returned, playing innocent.

"Getting a room, of course," Tom replied saucily.

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" Buffy shot back in mock outrage, smacking him on the arm a little harder than what could be considered playful.

"Well, you're sitting on my lap and were well on your way to being snogged thoroughly before Tyler distracted us," Tom replied matter-of-factly.

"Only because you practically grabbed me and lip raped me," Buffy retorted, although a small, silly smile was playing on her lips.

"I didn't see you complaining a few minutes ago," Tom said with a smirk. "But I think it's time for us to head back to our dormitories. It's getting rather late and you need your beauty sleep."

"Are you calling me ugly?" Buffy asked as she extracted herself from Tom's lap before offering him a hand to help him out of the depths of the chair.

"No, you're beautiful, but if want to stay beautiful you need your sleep," Tom replied as he wrapped an arm around Buffy's waist. "Thank you, Professor Slughorn, it was an excellent party."

Buffy held back a snicker at that remark as they left the room where the party was held. As soon as they were out in the dark dungeon corridor, Buffy tried to distance herself from Tom, but he held tight.

"Don't you want me to walk you to Gryffindor?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow. "It's after curfew, you know, and if you get caught by someone else I'd hate for you to lose house points or get a detention."

"Okay, fine," Buffy said with a long-suffering sigh. "I'm only letting you do this because I don't want to get a detention. No other reason."

"Sure, sure," Tom said as he led them out of the dungeon and up into the main castle.

The walk to Gryffindor was a quiet one; they didn't meet anyone on their way up to the seventh floor and the corridors were eerily quiet. It wasn't long at all before they were standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was dozing in her frame.

"Well, I guess this is good night," Buffy said as she tried to escape Tom's grasp again. He still held on tight, turning her so that they were facing each other. "What do you think you're doing now?"

"Giving you a proper good night kiss, of course," Tom replied, bending down to leave a small, almost chaste kiss on her lips. Buffy met him, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck. All too soon, the kiss was over and Buffy was back on her feet. "You looked very pretty tonight."

"Thank you," Buffy replied as Tom finally released her, stepping away. "Good night."

"'Night," Tom said with a small smile as he turned and left. Buffy waited until he was out of earshot before she woke up the Fat Lady.

"Where have you been?" she asked, a little grumpy.

"At a party," Buffy replied before she gave her the password. The portrait opened and Buffy entered the common room, heading to her dormitory right away. She could transfigure her dress back into one of her uniforms in the morning.

Chapter seventeen for your reading pleasure, folks. I know the relationship is moving a little fast, but that will take a bit of a backseat in the next chapter.

For those who are wondering when I'm going to be updating Slayer Shinigami, I'm trying to catch up on the anime and will be updating sometime after that. Hopefully by next week, but I'm making no promises.

As always, praise is appreciated, constructive criticism is always sought after and flames will be used to roast marshmallows.