PLEASE NOTE: A small correction has been made, but it's nothing that will change the flow of the story. Back in Chapter 2, I had originally said that Buffy had come from 1999. Upon further research, I realized that Season 2 actually took place in 1998. That change has been made and the date of Buffy's birthday is correct, or close enough, at least.

Chapter 18

The other students returned on Sunday just in time for classes to start up again. As far as Buffy knew, Quentin and the school gossips had no idea what she had been up to on New Year's Eve and she hoped that it stayed that way for a while.

By this point, Buffy had enough magical knowledge that she could probably get by in her classes on her own, but her tutors wouldn't let her go that easily. She made plans to meet with each of her tutors once a week still, but her sessions were much shorter and were mostle limited to making sure her homework was correct.

This progress made Buffy acutely aware of how long she had been at Hogwarts and how there hadn't been any progress in sending her home. She had no news from Dumbledore or Dippet on that front; she didn't even know if they were researching means to send her home. She had been so busy trying to survive classes, school politics and keeping up with her friends that it never really occurred to her to be more proactive. If she were honest with herself, this would indicate that she was becoming comfortable at Hogwarts, and while it was nice she was really beginning to miss Sunnydale.

The no news was good news thing ended now.

As she sat down to breakfast before classes, the owl post flew overhead. Not expecting to get mail that morning, or any morning really, Buffy was surprised when a large brown barn owl landed in front of her.

"What have you got there?" Quentin asked as Buffy carefully removed the letter from the owl's leg.

"No idea," she replied, breaking the wax seal – the Hogwarts crest – and extracted the letter from the envelope as the own ate some of her corn flakes before it took off again.

Dear Miss Summers,

Professor Dippet and I wish to speak to you about your future at Hogwarts. Please meet us in my office after breakfast this morning. You will be excused from Potions and I will provide you a note if you will be late for Charms.

Yours truly,

Professor Dumbledore

Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Head of Gryffindor House

"What did you do?" Quentin asked, reading over Buffy's shoulder. "You're not in trouble, are you? Do they know about, well, y'know?"

"Shh," Buffy hissed, glancing around. It seemed like no one was paying attention to them, but a girl couldn't be too careful. Having Hagrid, Tom, Quentin and Professor Giles know her secret were four people too many, and she really didn't want anyone else to find out. While she had been in Sunnydale she had two other people who knew besides her Watcher, this time she was trying to do the whole secret identity thing right. So far, it wasn't going as well as she had hoped.

"Well, good luck," Quentin said as he got up to head to class. "Will I see you in Potions?"

"Probably not," Buffy replied. "Dumbledore said I'm excused from Potions and will give me a note for Charms if I'm running late for that. Hopefully I won't – I still need all of the Charms help I can get."

"Well, I'll see you in Charms," Quentin said, hitching his bag up onto his shoulder and leaving the Great Hall. Buffy grabbed a muffin and propped her Charms book open on her juice glass, getting as much studying in as she possibly could.

She waited until the vast majority of the other students had vacated the Great Hall before she herself got up and headed up to the seventh floor where Dumbledore's office was, wondering how this meeting was going to go. Part of her hoped that they had found a way to get her back to her own place and time, but another, more practical – some would say pessimistic – part was telling her that she was going to be stuck here for the rest of her short life. Not that it was all horrible; she'd made quite a few good friends and could see herself having some kind of a future in wizarding Britain.

She really needed to know what was going on with this.

The trip to the seventh floor seemed to take forever when in reality it wasn't that long at all. As she reached up to knock on the door, it was flung open by Dumbledore. How the hell does he do that? Buffy asked herself, surveying her head of house. His expression was unreadable, and his eyes were not twinkling. This couldn't be good.

"Please, come in, sit by the fire," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the squashy armchairs by the fire at one end of the room. Professor Dippet was also sitting there, his expression also somewhat unreadable as she took a chair facing him, leaving one chair in between them. Was she being kicked out?

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, Miss Summers," Dippet began, his voice grave as Dumbledore took a seat in between them.

"I have some ideas, but I think I'll let you explain it," Buffy replied. "So what's the what?"

"We are here to discuss your future at Hogwarts," Dippet continued. He had an exasperated expression on his face, much like Giles did when she butchered the English language. Actually, now that she thought about it, she got that look from nearly everyone. It was good to know that she hadn't lost her touch when it came to annoying stuffy British types. "As you may know, Professor Dumbledore and I have been searching every single resource we have to find a way to get you back to your own time."

No, actually, I didn't know, Buffy remarked silently, but decided to keep her mouth shut as the two old men before her summarized her situation.

"We have exhausted all avenues that we have, and while there are methods to bring you to the future, it is borderline Dark magic and very unstable. We don't want to risk you being torn apart by the magic, no matter how much stronger you are than an average human," Dippet continued.

"What does this mean?" Buffy asked, although the brain cells in her pretty blonde head had already made the connection. She wasn't ever going home again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Summers, but we cannot send you back to your own time," Dippet replied, his voice still grave. "You will, of course, be able to complete your education here at Hogwarts. We will have to arrange for you to take your OWLs at the end of the years with the fifth years to make sure that you have all of the appropriate credentials. Tell me, how old will you be on your next birthday?"

"January 20, 1999 was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday," Buffy replied.

"Well, we're going to have to change some facts about you when we create your records and identification," Dippet said. "We will have to state that you are turning seventeen on your next birthday so that it will be appropriate for you to be in sixth year going into seventh year."

"How are we going to deal with the fact that I'm not heading home for the holidays?" Buffy asked. "I mean, I'm pretty sure my friends already suspect something, seeing as I never hear from my parents and I didn't get anything from them for Christmas."

"Yes, that was yet another thing we wished to discuss with you," Dumbledore said, taking the lead from Dippet. "We needed to find a way for you to immerse yourself into this world, maybe even be adopted into one of the families here at the school. The only way we could think of is to tell everyone that your parents died and that you have no other relatives."

Buffy sat in her chair, silent, as all of the information thrown at her began to really hit her. She wasn't able to go home, ever. While she knew that that had always been a possibility from the moment she realized that she had been thrown into 1943, hearing it out loud was another matter entirely. Even though her mother was still alive, she hoped, having to play it like she were dead seemed like a daunting task at first. After thinking about it, though, she decided that it wouldn't be so difficult after all. She loved her mother, her father too, and the thought of never seeing them again was quite upsetting.

"So, when did they die? How did they die?" Buffy asked. Her voice was quiet, resigned and devoid of any kind of real emotion.

"I beg your pardon?" Dippet asked, a little thrown.

"Well, if we're going to sell this, we need to get some of the details down now so that I have something to tell people when they ask why I wasn't in class this morning," Buffy replied. "So, what's it going to be? Car accident? Grisly murder? House fire? Flesh eating virus? Vampire attack?"

"Your parents are Muggles, correct?" Dumbledore asked. Buffy nodded. "House fire seems most logical, then. It also gets around the fact that you will not be having your possession sent to the school. Don't you agree, Armando?"

"Wha - ? Oh yes, quite," Dippet agreed, speaking as if he had been brought out of his thoughts or something.

"As for timing, I believe having your parents die sometime in December and the news getting to us now would be appropriate, considering the delays of the mystical convergence," Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. "Yes, yes, this could work. Now, I understand how upsetting and stressful this news is. Would you like to be excused from classes for the rest of the day?"

"I – " Buffy began before stopping herself. She was all ready to refuse when she realized that she needed to at least act the part of a person who had just lost her parents. It struck her as a little disturbing that they were discussing the deaths of her parents as if trying to strategize a Quidditch match. "Yeah, sure, that would be of the good."

"Excellent, here is your pass," Dumbledore said, reaching into his robes and extracting a piece of parchment. Buffy took it and rose to leave when Dumbledore stopped her. "One more thing before you leave, Miss Summers. Professor Giles has been asking about you."

"Has she?" Buffy asked. After that one day in class where Professor Giles had singled her out and found out what she was, they had kept a polite distance, Buffy only speaking when spoken to and Professor Giles rarely calling on her. It was a truce, of sorts.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "And since you are now staying with us, I think now might be a good idea to let you in on our conversations. She wishes to be your Watcher. Unofficially, of course."

"Professor Giles knows of Miss Summers'… condition?" Dippet asked, finally catching on.

"Completely by accident, I swear," Buffy replied, holding up her hands. "Apparently Watchers and Slayers have this freaky bond where one can sniff out the other, and she sniffed me. She was one, apparently, before she started teaching here."

"Extraordinary," Dippet commented, rubbing a hand over the bald part of his head. "Absolutely fascinating. Well, Miss Summers, I have to say that your arrival has completely shaken my world view."

"Trust me, the feeling is totally mutual," Buffy replied before turning back to Dumbledore. "Tell Professor Giles I'll think about it. I never really thought about going back to active slaying, but after what happened on Halloween I think it might actually be a good idea."

"What happened on Halloween?" Dumbledore asked, curious. "I don't remember anything out of the ordinary."

"That's because I got rid of the threat before it could get to the school," Buffy replied. "Felt some vampires, went into the forest, made with the slayage. All in a day's work."

"I thank you for that, but you should know that the Forest is supposed to be off limits to students," Dumbledore said reprovingly. "Hence the 'Forbidden' moniker. I hope no one else followed you in?"

"Um, nope," Buffy replied, but as soon as the words came out of her mouth she knew Dumbledore didn't believe her for a second. However, he says nothing, but a knowing twinkle glinted in his eye. "So, um, can I go now? Gotta, you know, make with the tears and the depression and stuff."

"I hope to see you in classes tomorrow," Dumbledore said before gesturing towards the door. Taking it as a dismissal, Buffy hastened out of the office and into the deserted corridor. The first lesson was still in session and with any luck, Buffy would be able to make the short trek back to her common room without running into anyone.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side.

A cool hand clasped around her wrist as she passed by a tapestry, and her assailant used her surprise to haul her into an alcove behind the large piece of fabric. She began to resist until she realized who was holding her captive. Relaxing slightly, she glared into the darkness where she was certain Tom was hiding.

"Seriously, one of these days I'm going to completely freak out when you grab me like that and you're going to end up with a pointy piece of wood in your chest," Buffy grumbled, annoyed that Tom had the audacity to chuckle at her. "And what are you doing up here anyway? Because I'm pretty sure Potions hasn't let out yet."

"I wanted to see where you went," Tom replied.

"Couldn't you have asked Slughorn?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "I'm sure that if you asked nicely, he would have told you everything he knew."

"And he did," Tom replied, his voice a little smug. Buffy rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to assure myself that you weren't in trouble or anything. If you were, I'd be available to offer my services as a character reference. Or, if required, an alibi."

"Sure you would," Buffy muttered. Like Dumbledore would take his word, she thought. Dippet might, but Dumbledore definitely wouldn't. "You don't have to worry about me going anywhere. I can't go home ever again."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, puzzled. Buffy sighed quietly and steeled herself for what was to come next. It was time to sell the lie. She wished that she had had more time to formulate more of a story and to deal with the emotions she had, but apparently that wasn't to be.

"It means that my parents died and I have no where else to go," Buffy replied. The more she thought about it, the more she felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. She was sure that the tears would come later, when she was behind the curtains of her bed.

"Come here," Tom said, and before she could say no, she was pulled into a tight hug. "I can't say I'm really sad about this, but it must be hard for you. I wish I remembered my mother."

"Why?" Buffy asked. "Why can't you be sad for me?"

"Because it means that you'll be staying in the country," Tom replied. "I have a feeling that stalking you over international borders would be far more difficult."

"And this is where I go back to calling you intense and creepy," Buffy retorted with a snort.

"You wound me with your words," Tom said, swooning dramatically. It had almost the desired effect; while she wasn't laughing like he had wanted to, she had cracked a small smile and that was good enough for him. For now, anyway. "Is it really all that bad, though? I mean, you've made friends, you're doing well. Some might say you're thriving."

"Yeah, but I thought I'd be able to go back to Sunnydale for the summer," Buffy replied. "You know, see my parents, see my friends. Now I can't, never again. No more parents, no more Willow, no more Xander. Hell, I wouldn't mind seeing Angel again because he reminds me of home."

"And Angel is?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Old boyfriend, ended badly," Buffy replied quickly.

"You have many old boyfriends that ended badly, or just the one?" Tom asked.

"Just the one, I promise," Buffy replied.

"Good," Tom said. His jaw was tense, his eyes were cold, and even though it wasn't aimed at her, it sent a chill down her spine. "He can't find you here, can he?"

"Nope, he's far, far away," Buffy replied with a decisive nod. She didn't like to think about why he was so far away and how he had got there, and shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Good," Tom repeated, the arm wrapped around her waist tightening protectively around her. It was then that she realized that she'd been in contact with him since the moment he'd yanked her into the alcove. "Are you going back to your classes today?"

"Dumbledore excused me from classes, so I'm gonna go with no," Buffy replied.

"Would you like me to walk you to your common room?" Tom asked. Buffy chewed on her bottom lip. While support from anyone, including Tom, would be nice, she didn't really want to get tongues wagging and the gossip mill started, which would surely happen if she walked down the hall with Tom in front of everyone. Sure, they'd walked down the corridors together before, but that was later in the day, closer to curfew, when people were in the library or in their common rooms. With her Slayer hearing she could hear people stirring in the classrooms and she was certain that any minute now the bell would ring.

"Look, I don't know if that's a good idea…" Buffy began, looking up at him.

"You're worried about the rumour mill," Tom said. It wasn't a question.

"Well, yeah," Buffy replied. "I kind of wanted to see where whatever this is had any kind of future before other people started talking about it."

"No one's going to talk about it," Tom said.

"How can you be sure?" Buffy retorted.

"I just am," Tom replied. "Look, let's make a bet of it. If no one talks, I win. If the rumour mill starts, you win."

"What do you get if you win?" Buffy asked, curious.

"You will accompany me on the next Hogsmeade weekend as my date," Tom replied.

"And if I win, you have to admit that I was right," Buffy said.

"That's not much of a win," Tom said sceptically.

"It is when you know how hard it is for a guy to admit a girl is right," Buffy retorted.

"So, do we have a deal?" Tom asked. Buffy considered it for a moment before nodding. Before she could say anything, she was being dragged out of the alcove and led down the corridor to the portrait of the Fat Lady. So far, the corridors were still deserted, but that could change at any moment.

"Okay, no one saw us," Buffy said as she tried to extract herself from the circle of Tom's arms, but he would have none of it.

"What, no good-bye kiss?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. Rolling her eyes, she glanced around furtively and, when she saw that the coast was clear she rose up onto her tiptoes and pecked him lightly on the lips before trying to escape again.

"What, you got what you wanted," Buffy said when his arms wouldn't budge.

"You call that a kiss?" Tom asked before he swooped down and latched his lips onto hers. It wasn't so much of a kiss as more like a snog session, and as he kissed her thoroughly, the bell rang and the corridor flooded with students, some mistakenly jostling them and some staring at them and some outright ignoring him.

"Do you want to tell me that I was right?" Buffy asked.

"No, I saw something I wanted and I took it," Tom replied with a smirk as he finally let her go. "Are you going to be at lunch?"

"Doubtful," Buffy replied. "I don't think I'm going to be fit to be around people for the rest of the day."

"Fair enough," Tom said. "If you need me, come find me. I'll be in Defence Against the Dark Arts for the rest of the morning and either the library or the grounds after lunch. No matter what time it is, I'll make an excuse and be there for you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Buffy replied, although she doubted she'd be in any condition to be anywhere near people within the next fifteen minutes or so.

One last kiss and Tom was on his way, leaving Buffy alone so that she could get into her common room in peace. She gave the password to the Fat Lady, who looked at her somewhat suspiciously before swinging open to admit her. Taking advantage of the deserted common room, Buffy flopped down onto what she was quickly considering her chair. Staring into the fire, she seriously thought about her current situation.

She was stuck in this time. As Tom had said, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it still meant that she was never going to see her friends and family again. She wished she had pictures, and made a silent vow to herself to carry pictures of her loved ones on her person at all times in the off chance she ended up in another dimension again.

She wondered what would happen to her when the school year was over. Would she be taken into a wizarding family, like Dumbledore had suggested? would she have to stay at the school? Now that she thought about it, staying at the school wouldn't be such a bad thing. She could think of worse ways to spend her summer vacation.

Sighing to herself, Buffy pulled out her Charms book and tried to concentrate on that, but her mind kept wandering to what could have been, what will never be. She stared into the flames, kept going by the house elves during the day no doubt, and let the tears slip down her cheeks as she went over all of the memories of her parents and her friends.

It was how Quentin found her when it was time for lunch.

"So this is where you've been hiding. I've wondered where you got to," he said, perching on the arm of her chair. She looked up at him, and for the first time he saw her tear stained face. "What's wrong? You know I'm no good with crying."

"I got some not so great news today," Buffy replied, sniffling a little. Quentin reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. She smiled gratefully and took it, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose before continuing. "My parents died. Last month. I have no where else to go."

"That's horrible news!" Quentin exclaimed, sliding down so that he could sit next to her. It was a humungous chair, easily large enough for two small-ish people to sit in, and both Buffy and Quentin could be classified as small. They were easily the shortest people in their year. "Wait… you're just hearing about this now?"

"Mystical convergence, remember?" Buffy reminded him, tapping him on the side of the head.

"Do you want to go down to lunch?" Quentin asked.

"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "I don't think I want to deal with all of the people, all of the questions why I'm so upset."

"Understandable," Quentin said. "Do you want me to bring anything up?"

"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, I'm starved, but if you want me to stay…" Quentin began, trailing off a little. Buffy prodded him out of the chair and towards the door.

"Go to lunch," Buffy said. "I don't want to be the one to make you waste away."

"I'll be back after Care of Magical Creatures, then," Quentin said as he got up from the chair. "Maybe you'll be up to coming to dinner?"

"We'll see," Buffy replied. Her gaze had gone back to the fire as Quentin waved at her before he turned and left, heading down to the Great Hall.

Buffy was left alone for the rest of the afternoon.

Chapter 18 DONE! I'm evil, I know. Things should at least start winding down within the next few chapters. I've figured out my ending, and everything that comes before it. The trick is getting there, hehehe.

As always, feedback is appreciated, even if it is to say that this little sorry sucks monkey butt :P.