Chapter 20

"Umm, oops?" Buffy offered.

She was so dead.

"Please, please, please tell me you two weren't snogging," Quentin said, rubbing his eyes. "Please, please, please tell me he was attacking you and you were about to kick his arse."

"You needn't worry, Trimble. We weren't snogging," Tom replied before he got to his feet. As he helped Buffy up, Quentin relaxed slightly. "You interrupted us before it got that far."

"You're horrible," Buffy said, smacking him on the arm before turning to Quentin. "We weren't going to start snogging, or making out, or whatever. Tom has a very active imagination."

"Tom, is it?" Quentin asked. "When did it stop being Riddle and started being Tom?"

"Umm, it's always been Tom," Buffy replied.

"Oh, right," Quentin said after thinking for a moment. He narrowed his eyes at them again. "What's going on, then? Because it sure doesn't look like Potions tutoring to me."

"Buffy and I have become quite close these last few weeks," Tom replied, wrapping an arm around Buffy's waist. Quentin caught the action, his eyes bugging for a moment before he turned his attention back to the duo in front of him.

"Him? Out of all the people in the school, you chose him?" Quentin asked. "Come on, Buffy, you have better taste than that. He's a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake!"

"I think she has rather good taste, if you ask me," Tom said haughtily.

"No one's asking you, though," Quentin retorted before turning his attention to Buffy. "I mean, I've accepted the fact that I'd never have a chance with a girl like you. Made my peace with it, you could say. But why him? He's a dirty great snake, the slimiest of the slimy. You're a bloody Gryffindor, Summers, you should bloody well act like one. Number one rule is Gryffindors to not fraternize with Slytherins! They're like… like… ice cream and pickles. They just don't go together!"

"I didn't choose for this to happen," Buffy said, her voice pleading. "It just sort of… happened."

"And you didn't try to fight it at all?" Quentin asked.

"Believe me, I tried," Buffy replied with a shake of her head. "Oh, how I tried. But he was very persuasive."

Quentin looked from Buffy to Tom and back to Buffy again before continuing. "He's cursed you into falling in love with him, hasn't he? A love potion or something, it has to be!"

Buffy felt bad for Quentin, she really did. He was so desperate to find a reason for her relationship with Tom that wasn't the normal girl meets boy, girl and boy start liking each other and then boy and girl start making with the smoochies.

"I assure you, Trimble, I do not need to resort to spells and potions to get my way. I do quite well on my own. Most of the time anyway," Tom replied. "Look, I get that you're jealous. You have been thwarted, yet again, by a Slytherin who is your superior in every way. You can't handle a girl like Buffy. I can. It's best that you just accept it and move on with your life. Find a nice girl to settle down with. I hear that Hufflepuffs are quite good for that."

"Handle Buffy? What do you mean, that I wouldn't be able to handle a girl like Buffy?" Quentin asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, what do you mean by that?" Buffy asked, glaring up at Tom. He seemed unfazed by the twin glares and continued.

"A girl like Buffy needs a firm hand to guide her through this world," Tom replied. "Someone who will be firm and forceful in ensuring that she behaves appropriately in this world. I can do that, you can't."

"Wow," Buffy said, shocked.

"I can't see why you're so shocked at Trimble's immaturity," Tom said with a scoff. "I mean, he is a Gryffindor, after all."

"No, I'm not surprised at that. And I think you might have hit your head or something, because I'm a Gryffindor too, remember? Does that make me immature?" Buffy asked. Tom opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Don't answer that. I'm surprised at how you think of me. Firm hand to guide me through this world? Needs to ensure I behave appropriately? What am I, some over-eager puppy that pees on the carpet? I don't think you're the boy I thought you were."

"Way to get talked down to by a girl," Quentin said with a snort.

"What are you laughing at? You're no prize either," Buffy said, rounding on Quentin. He stopped smiling and gulped audibly. "All this crap about Slytherins and Gryffindors not mixing. It's racism, plain and simple. Or house-ism. Or some other kind of –ism that doesn't have a name yet. It's ridiculous."

"You didn't grow up around here, or go to school with him from day one," Quentin said. "Slytherins have always been nasty, evil gits."

"Even nasty, evil gits can be reformed," Buffy replied softly, thinking of Angel. Whenever he did cross her mind, which wasn't all that often, it stung a little.

"How do you know?" Quentin asked.

"Because I just know," Buffy replied.

"This is getting ridiculous," Tom said with a sigh. "It's one o'clock in the morning and we're standing in the middle of the forest freezing our balls off. Buffy, can I escort you back to the castle?"

"Hell to the no," Buffy said. "Again with the head hitting. Do you have short term memory loss or something? I'm so annoyed with you that I can't even look at you. I'm heading back on my own."

"I'm coming with you," Quentin said, panic creeping into his voice.

"I'm not going to talk to you," Buffy said. She turned and began stalking away, Quentin on her heels, and would have kept walking if Tom hadn't called her back.

"You can't hide from me forever," he said.

"Oh yeah? Watch me!" Buffy retorted before turning and continuing to stomp off into the forest, hoping she was going the right way. The only sounds were Buffy's and Quentin's footsteps, and neither spoke. Quentin must have taken her words to heart, because not a peep was heard from him.

They were almost to the edge of the forest and in the clear when a rustle of bushes above them caught Buffy's attention. Before either Buffy or Quentin could react, a demon dropped down in front of them from one of the branches above. It was grey and spiny, with a green glowing thing in the middle of its chest.

"Stupefy!" Quentin shouted, pointing his want at the creature. It fell down and remained still. "What d'you reckon it is?"

"No idea, but it looks like your spell is wearing off!" Buffy exclaimed, getting into a fighting stance as the demon began to stir. "Go back to the castle, Quentin. Don't worry about me, this is what I do, remember?"

"'M not leaving you alone," Quentin said, stubborn as ever. Buffy didn't' have a chance to retort because at that moment the demon sprang again, attacking Buffy with strong, fast attacks. as she got into her zone, the actions became automatic. Punch, kick, block, flip. When the creature screamed when Buffy kicked the green glowy thing in its chest, Buffy got an idea. As soon as she had knocked the creature to the ground, she drove her makeshift stake into the demon's chest, right in the middle of the green glow. The demon let out an unearthly scream and dissolved into green fire, leaving not evidence of its existence behind.

"That was brilliant!" Quentin said, his eyes practically glowing with excitement.

"I thought I told you to go back to the castle," Buffy said, dusting her hands off after tossing her makeshift stake into the bushes and tucking her wand into the pocket of her robes.

"And miss that? I don't think so," Quentin replied. "Can all demons be staked?"

"Nope. And that one was just a shot in the dark. I kinda didn't have a plan B for that," Buffy said. "Decapitation works for almost anything, but some need spells or a special sword or something. I don't go into details. Giles just used to tell how to kill something and pointed me in the right direction."

"Still, that was bloody brilliant," Quentin said. "You know, with the screaming and the fighting and the green flames."

"Come on, let's get you back to the tower before y6ou start spilling my secrets and stuff," Buffy said, grabbing him by the elbow and practically dragging him the hundred feet or so to the castle grounds. Quentin was practically vibrating with excitement as they walked up the pat that led to the castle.

As soon as they walked into the entrance hall, Buffy was certain that they were going to be in big trouble. Professor Dumbledore stood there, dressed in a midnight blue dressing gown, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Mr. Trimble, Mr. Riddle, please return to your common rooms at once," Dumbledore said, his voice quiet. Surprised, Buffy glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Tom was standing behind her. How long had he been following them? And why hadn't she noticed before? "Miss Summers will be coming with me. If either of you meet Mr. Pringle on your way, let me know in the morning and I'll sort it all out."

Both boys murmured their understanding before turning and leaving for their common rooms, one heading up the stairs, and one heading down to the dungeons. Dumbledore waiting for a few moments, presumably so that the boys were out of earshot, before speaking again.

"Come with me, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said. "We have much to discuss."

Dumbledore set off at a fairly fast pace, but Buffy had no problems keeping up. Up and up they went until they reached the seventh floor, and the door to Dumbledore's office."

"Please, take a seat," Dumbledore said when they had entered the office, gesturing at the chairs around the fireplace. Buffy gingerly sat down and Dumbledore took the seat across from her so that they were facing each other. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Because I snuck out of the castle and into the forest to go demon hunting?" Buffy suggested.

"Well, there is that," Dumbledore conceded. "But there is also the small matter of you taking two defenceless students into the forest with you."

"I didn't take them into the forest," Buffy said. "They followed me. Big difference. If I had things my way, they would have stayed in the castle like they should have. Is it my fault if I have two rather overprotective boys tailing me all the time?"

"I suppose it's not," Dumbledore said. "But the best way to avoid having these two young men following you into the Forest is to stay out of it all together. It is, after all, forbidden."

"I've ran into seven vampires and a demon in the two times I've been in there," Buffy said. "Maybe it's a good idea for me to patrol, just in case something decides it has the balls to attack the school?"

"That is what the teachers worry about," Dumbledore said. "I would like you to worry about attending classes and getting your homework done."

"What about Professor Giles wanting to act as my Watcher?" Buffy asked. "I mean, she'll want me to patrol, right?"

"And at that time, you may patrol because you will be under the supervision of a member of Hogwarts' faculty," Dumbledore replied.

"You're strict," Buffy said. However, she wasn't going to argue with him because he was still going to let her patrol, unlike some other people in her past.

"The safety of the students here is my utmost priority, even if one of my students just so happens to be the one girl in all the world who can fight vampires," Dumbledore replied. "Now, it's off to bed for you, I think. I'm starting you on Vanishing Spells tomorrow morning, and you'll have to have your wits about you."

"Good night, then," Buffy said.

"Good night, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said with a nod, dismissing her. Buffy got up from her chair and left the office, hoping that she wouldn't meet anyone on the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady. The walk to the portrait hole was uneventful, but when she got there the picture frame was empty.

"You have got to be freakin' kidding me," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. She was about to knock on the frame in the hope that someone was still up when a voice caught her attention.

"What's this? An ickle Gryffindor caught out of bed with no way to get back in? What fun!"

Buffy turned, irritated, but didn't see anyone at eye level. She looked up, but the only thing she could see was a bright read balloon hurtling towards her face. There was no time to dodge, and the balloon landed, bursting open on Buffy's face and drenching her with icy water. Blinking the water from her eyes, she saw a little man floating about six feet above her head, with a sack of what she presumed were water balloons at his side. She had heard of Peeves the Poltergeist, but until that moment she had seen nor heard him.

She decided then and there that the annoying little man with the stupid bell covered hat had the worst timing ever.

"No, yelling, eh?" Peeves asked.

"No," Buffy replied, cocking her head to one side as if she were studying him. "I'm trying to figure out if you're evil or not."

"Now, why would you want to do a silly thing like that?" Peeves asked. He had had a balloon in his hand, but it fell to the floor, unchecked, after what Buffy had said. An expression of curiosity crossed Peeves' face, and he, too was studying someone.

"You see, there's this thing called a Vampire Slayer. Except she doesn't just slay vampires. Anything evil gets the whole Slayer treatment," Buffy replied. "If you're evil, I get to slay you. I've had a bad evening, so I'm kinda hoping you're evil."

"Peevsie isn't evil," said Peeves, his eyes widening with a little bit of fear. Looks like he'd heard of the Slayer. "Peevsie just likes to have a little fun with the students, that's all."

"Damn, not evil," Buffy said. Peeves looked rather pleased with himself, although he didn't reach for another balloon. "But that won't stop me from making your life hell if you annoy me."

"Yes Miss Slayer, of course Miss Slayer," Peeves said. "Peevsie won't be bothering you again."

As the poltergeist zoomed off, probably to find another unsuspecting poor sap to annoy, the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and Quentin stuck his head out into the corridor.

"I thought I heard voices out here," he said. "What did Dumbledore want with you? And why are you all wet?"

"I'll tell you once we get inside," Buffy replied as Quentin moved out of the way so she could enter the common room. It was still dimly lit, the fire giving off a few embers of flickering light. Quentin pointed his wand at her and murmured a drying spell so that she could sit down and not worry about soaking the furniture. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Quentin replied. "So… Dumbledore?"

"Wanted to chew me out for sneaking out of the castle and dragging you and Tom with me," Buffy replied. "Had to correct him, because there was no way I was going to drag you two yahoos with me. He said that I wasn't allowed to patrol on my own anymore, and that I needed a faculty member with me."

"Oh yeah?" Quentin asked. "Which faculty member is that?"

"Professor Giles," Buffy replied. "She wants to act as my Watcher, unofficially."

"She's a little old, isn't she?" Quentin asked sceptically.

"Watchers don't take part in the active fighting," Buffy replied. "They just stand back and… watch."

"I see," Quentin said. "And the whole you turning up soaked? Because you weren't rolling around in the snow that much, were you?"

"Peeves attacked me with a water balloon," Buffy replied, scrunching her nose up a little. "Was going to do it again, but I mentioned that I was the Slayer and he said he wouldn't bother me anymore."

"I don't think he's ever done that before," Quentin said. "Weird."

"I'm not going to read too much into it," Buffy replied. "Anyway, I'm heading to bed. It's been a long, long day and even Slayers need sleep."

"I should go, too," Quentin said, stifling a yawn. He got up and helped Buffy out of her chair before they both turned and headed towards their respective stairways, heading up them without another word.

xoxoxo

The next morning found Buffy functioning normally – well, as normally as someone who had just found out that she was stuck in 1944 and had just had a huge fight with her kind-of-sort-of-maybe boyfriend – while Quentin was demonstrating his fluency in Troll.

"How do you do it?" Quentin groaned, yawning for the fifth time as they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. "If I didn't think I needed to go to class, I would skive and sleep."

"Part of the Slayer package," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Need to keep up the secret identity somehow. High school student only taking afternoon classes kind of leads to questions."

"It's not fair," Quentin grumbled as they sat down. Buffy was hoping for an owl-free morning; she didn't like the idea of a bird eating off of her plate.

"You wanna die early?" Buffy asked. "'Cause I'll gladly trade."

It was lucky that the Great Hall was crowded and noisy, making it so that they couldn't be overheard.

"Nevermind," Quentin mumbled, snagging a piece of toast and averting his gaze.

"Oi, look who's up and around," Terrence said as he flopped down on Buffy's other side. "Feeling all right?"

"I've been better," Buffy replied. "But I can't miss any more classes. I'm still really behind."

"Dumbledore seems to think you're doing really well in Transfiguration," Minerva said. She had joined them about the same time as Terrence had, sitting across the table from Buffy and next to Augusta.

"And your Defence Against the Dark Arts work is brilliant," Quentin piped up.

"Herbology's not half bad, either," Terrence said. "Not outstanding, of course, but you could probably pass the test as long as you work at it."

"It's your Charms that's the problem," Augusta said. "You and I need to step up the tutoring sessions if you're going to get anything better than a Poor on the exam."

Buffy noticed that none of them mentioned Care of Magical Creatures or Potions, the first one because she was doing decently enough, but they knew it was a sore subject for her. Even though she'd been at the school for over three months, she still had no idea why Professor Ramsay disliked her so much. Maybe it would be a question she could ask Dumbledore during one of their random and somewhat frequent meetings. The second, of course, because none of them really knew how well she was doing in that class, and the fact that her tutor just so happened to be a Slytherin and none of them wanted to acknowledge that fact.

"He's staring at you again," Quentin said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Let him stare," Buffy whispered back. "I'm not going to let it bother me."

"What are you two lovebirds whispering about?" Terrence crowed loudly.

"All of the naughty things I'm planning to do to him when we're alone," Buffy retorted. Terrence's grin fell and he looked absolutely terrified.

"Seriously?" he asked, gulping.

"No, you doofus," Buffy replied. "But that'll teach you for trying to nose in on other people's conversations."

Buffy swore she heard Terrence mutter something about mean blonde girls but paid it no mind as she dug into her eggs and bacon, the greasy comfort food doing what it was meant to do, comfort her.

The rest of breakfast passed without much more fanfare; no owls landed near Buffy's breakfast, which made her eternally thankful. Before long, she was picking up her bag and she and Quentin headed up to Transfiguration. Buffy could feel a pair of eyes burning holes into her back, but she studiously ignored the gaze. She would acknowledge him when she was good and ready, and right now, it would be a really long time before she'd be able to look at him without fighting the urge to kick his rather well formed Slytherin butt.

Transfiguration had passed without much excitement, either; Dumbledore had been right when he had said she would need her wits about her with regard to Vanishing Spells. By the end of the class, she had nearly Vanished her snail, and had earned an encouraging smile from Dumbledore.

The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, one that she had mixed feelings about. While she was doing quite well in the class – full marks, or nearly full marks on her assignments, even without Quentin's help – she still had a bit of a distance from Professor Giles. That was most likely to change, considering that Professor Giles was going to be acting as her Watcher.

"Miss Summers, a word please?" Professor Giles said after the lesson was over – Fyarl demons, that day – and nearly everyone had left. "Mr. Trimble, you may wait outside for Miss Summers to finish."

"If this is about what I think it's about, he should probably stick around," Buffy said. "He's going to hear about it anyway, later."

"Fine then," Professor Giles said with a disapproving sniff. "Close the door, please, Mr. Trimble. How much does he know?"

"Everything," Buffy replied.

"You're not a by the book Slayer, are you Miss Summers?" Professor Giles asked, curious.

"What can I say? Not really book girl here," Buffy replied. The mention of being "book girl" brought up memories of Willow, which reminded her that she would never go home again, which made her sad.

"Is he the only one that knows?" Professor Giles asked.

"He's the only one who's going to be helping me," Buffy replied. That was definitely true; there was no way she was going to let Tom anywhere near her, for training or anything else. Although sparring with him and kicking his sorry ass was quite appealing at that moment.

"I believe that we should start your training as soon as possible," Professor Giles continued, look of disapproval on her face. "You are to meet me here after dinner this evening. I'm assuming Mr. Trimble will be accompanying you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Quentin replied breathlessly.

"You won't be saying that when the session is over," Professor Giles said. Buffy could have sworn she saw a smirk on the older woman's face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "If your friends ask where you've gone for the evening, say that you've got detention."

"Okay," Buffy replied with a shrug. She doubted her friends would ask, although now that she thought of it Augusta probably wouldn't be pleased with her when she found out Buffy would not be able to study Charms that night.

"Do either of you have any questions?" Professor Giles asked. Both Gryffindors shook their heads. "Then you two are to meet me here at seven o'clock this evening, and not a minute later."

"See you then," Buffy said, getting up to leave. Quentin practically bounced out the door, and Buffy wondered what kinds of things Professor Giles had planned for them.

xoxoxo

Chapter 20 done for your reading pleasure. *looks at wordcount* O.O Holy crap, over 80k words. That's, like, a record for me. Cool.

Anyway, as usual, reviews, constructive criticism, flames, yadda, yadda, yadda, I'm sure you know the drill by now. Let me know what you think, k?