A/N

firstly, Thanks to Deiticlast for his help as a beta.
Thanks Sheri, who is my sounding board for HP chat.

Also, thanks to those of you who took the time to review the last chapter!

thirdly...

I have had covid. Nasty horrible, vile, soul-destroying covid. I got out of bed and had to lie down to recover from getting out of bed.
I still had to get up and feed the parrot chicks I am handrearing every three hours during the night. I was literally writhing, writhing not writing, in agony. All I kept thinking was this is a manmade virus. It's nothing like flu. It seemed to know where my weaker areas were and hit those the hardest. I thought I was going to die from stomach and chest pain. :-/

This is the second time I have had it (maybe third, I didn't test the first time) and it was just as bad every time.

I feel sorry for myself, sorry for the whine.

Anyway, somehow I managed to write. It is probably waffle but I typed, and breathed, and I'm not dead. That's good, right?

Oh, nd I have to mention this... I had a chat with another author who told me that the only way to write Tom was by writing scenes of him pleasuring himself and being cruel with Buffy.

I'm like, this is Buffy? She'd kill him. :-D :-D

Plus Tom is a smart boy, he'd know no one sane would associate with someone like that. I have no idea what sort of fanfics this person is into, but it's obviously none that I would read (or write). :-D

I hope you enjoyed this segment anyway.

Reviews, criticism and constructive comments always welcome. :-)

...

112 Pouka Mischief

Buffy and Tom walked the road back to Hogwarts, avoiding the large puddles and deep ruts made by the wheels of the Thestral-drawn carriages. So far, they hadn't met any other travellers along the road. Buffy supposed the majority of students would still be in Hogsmeade enjoying their time.

The pair rounded a bend in the road, and Hogwarts came into view. Buffy worried at her bottom lip, eyeing the castle windows and wondering if anyone was watching them. "You know, Tom," she said, staring at the last stretch of road before it crossed the stone bridge. "On the Good-Idea scale of one to ten, I think this ranks as a one, or maybe a two."

Tom didn't reply. He continued staring stonily ahead, lost in his thoughts. He'd been quiet like this since they left the Three Broomsticks. Earlier, he'd asked her how she'd met Rory. When she finished, he'd cursed under his breath and muttered 'I've definitely inherited my mother's weakness'. Since Buffy had no idea what his mother had to do with Rory, she'd left him alone with his thoughts.

Aware of the castle getting closer with every step, Buffy tugged on the wrist chain to get his attention. "Tom? Are you sure about this?"

"What?" he asked. Darkness swirled in his eyes as he focused on her. It felt as if she was suddenly under a spotlight. Many would have found it unnerving; Buffy merely smiled back brightly.

"I said, are you sure we won't be spotted going in this way?"

"We shall be perfectly fine," Tom replied firmly. His eyes dropped to her lips and then jerked away again – his gaze on the road and the castle. "They don't question students returning, only those leaving."

Buffy chewed at her lip and gave the castle another dubious look. There'd been a lot of teachers in Hogsmeade, she'd seen them in the streets, but she hadn't seen Professor Dumbledore. What if he was doing the lurking-in-the-window thing, watching for kids who'd snuck out?

"Can we at least go back in through the side door?" she asked. "We can use the one that goes in through the kitchen."

"Oh, yes," Tom answered sourly. "The one where the house elves grab your leg and kiss your knee cap."

"Huh?" Buffy side-eyed him in astonishment. "What are you talking about, Tom?"

He faked a smile, hoping to hide his cringe. Why was he even telling her about this? Hadn't he promised himself to wipe the entire mortifying incident from his mind? He could hear Abraxas' voice inside his head – Don't tell a witch your embarrassing secrets, you'll never impress her.

"It happened that night you met Rory," he explained. "I followed you. That elf, Tiptoes, is a knee-hugger."

"Oh, she's so cute!" With her big, drooping ears and sad expression, Buffy thought Tiptoes was like a cute cuddly teddy bear.

"If you say so," said Tom, unconvinced.

"If you talk to them nicely," Buffy explained, "they'll tell you all the castle secrets."

Tom's head swung in her direction again – his eyes searing into her. "Secrets?"

A little too late, Buffy remembered seeing Tom tapping along the wall on the seventh floor. She knew now that he must have been searching for the door to the Room of Requirement. Did she want to share that information with him? Not right now, she didn't. She liked Tom, but from what the elf had told her, that room would be the ideal place to train in private.

So instead, she replied, "They know all the juicy goss. Who likes who, and what's the what with the where." His eyes were still searing into her, sensing that she knew more than what she was telling him. "I mean, um, with the migratory classrooms. The elves always know what floor they will be on before even the teachers do."

They entered the castle via the kitchen entrance, unchallenged by teachers or knee-hugging elves and headed up the stairs to the library. Tom was racking his brains on where he might find books on the Fae, and Buffy eager to start researching. She needed to talk to Lovell. Her Ravenclaw cousin knew a lot about terrain from his research into the lesser-known species of moths and their favourite habitat. He was bound to have ideas about where a fairy palace could be.

When they entered the library, Tom stopped not far from the door. "We're in luck." He nodded towards the main desk. In the Hogwarts' librarian's seat sat Horace Slughorn. The Potions professor had his head down, busy marking essays and drawing up lesson plans.

"He must be covering for Professor Boar. Leave this to me. I'll get us into the Restricted Section." Drawing himself up to his full height, Tom walked across the aisle with a gracefulness that caused more than one witch to sigh. He stopped in front of the imposing librarian's desk and waited politely to be noticed.

Sensing someone waiting, Professor Slughorn looked up with a frown. The lines in his face smoothing out when he saw his favourite pupil.

"My dear boy, what can I do for you today?" His eyes darted to Buffy standing at his side. "Buffy. I do hope Tom isn't boring you. His idea of a fun date is spending time studying."

Buffy felt miffed. Did he think she was a brainless bimbo? She'd caught up with all her subjects and they only way she'd done it was by applying herself to her books and studying. Tom wasn't the only one in Slytherin with a brain.

"Tom isn't boring, sir," she replied sweetly. "He's shown me things today that I've never seen before."

Professor Slughorn looked taken aback and shot Tom a wary look. "Er, yes, well..."

'Ha!' thought Buffy, 'see the way his mind leaps to all the wrong conclusions. Maybe, I should work on that... see if he'll talk to Dumbledore about the wisdom of chaining teenagers together. The lightest touch of Tom's fingernails on the back of her hand sent shivers running through her. Her stomach did a little flip and her magic fizzed. How did he do that?

Tom, meanwhile, thought he'd better explain. "I've been showing Miss Summers some of the castle shortcuts, sir. With Buffy being new, I thought she could do with the extra help." And he smiled at Slughorn, to show he was a 'Good Boy' and possible Head Boy material.

Slughorn nodded emphatically. "Of course, of course."

Tom nodded and cleared his throat. "Sir, Buffy and I are having a slight academic disagreement."

Slughorn looked wary. "Disagreement?"

Tom nodded. "She believes that there are alternatives to Runes that will work just as well –"

"Etruscan for one," Buffy interrupted, realising where he was going with this. Runes were her thing, thanks to Giles and all his books. "Or anything from ancient Sumerian. Either should work just as well as Runes, especially in warding and protection spells." She used her forefinger to draw the Sumerian words for 'demonic' and 'binding' in the air, confident that neither Tom nor the Potions Master would recognise them.

"In theory, yes it could work," Tom said, "Practically, I think little is to be gained from it. In fact, I'm sure I remember seeing a book written on unusual Warding that was in the Restricted Section." he gazed at Slughorn with a hopeful expression. "I was hoping for a permission slip?"

"Ah!" Slughorn folded his hands and leaned back in his chair, regarding Tom with a hint of disapproval. "Professor Dumbledore was very explicit that you were not to be given any privileges. I'm sure he told you this, Tom."

Tom swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "I..." He hung his head the epitome of a chastised student. "I'm sorry, Sir, I... I shouldn't have asked."

"My dear boy, don't give it another thought!" Slughorn replied kindly. He gave Tom's arm a reassuring pat. "Don't be so glum. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Fairies!" squeaked Buffy thinking she might have better luck. "Books on fairies or fairyland. Maps of lands inhabited by, and," her voice lowered, "especially anything that has plans of fairy palaces." Since Tom had stiffened next to her, she decided that she was being overly specific and needed to vague it up to deflect suspicion from the, um, fairies. "And, um, any books on... um, cake decorating."

Tom's eyes slid over to her and then back to Slughorn. He didn't exactly sigh, but he did sag – in defeat. Buffy's cheeks flushed, but she rallied and batted her eyelashes at Professor Slughorn. "I want to bake a cake. I'd say for Tom's birthday, but that's not until New Year's Eve."

Tom's head jerked towards her, startled that she'd remembered.

"I'll ice it and put a fairy on top," Buffy suggested, looking up at Tom with a half-smile.

He stared back down at her. "I'd be much happier if you don't add a fairy."

Buffy cocked her head. "And you two got along so well."

His mouth twitched. "Minx."

"You really do say the sweetest things to a girl," she replied with a syrupy smile "That must be why all the girls swoon when you walk past them in the corridors."

"You don't swoon," he pointed out, still staring at her.

"I'm not the swoony type. I'm more..." She smiled – darkly. "...stabby."

"Stabby? You certainly weren't scared of using your wand," he mused.

"Oh, I can use it in ways you've never dreamed of."

Tom's smirk turned into a broad grin. Buffy's eyes widened and she put a hand to her face to cover her embarrassment. "Uh, and that sounded so much better inside my head."

Slughorn cleared his throat loudly, startling them. They turned to him with matching sheepish expressions.

The fat professor smiled back genially. Laughter in his eyes. "Well, I must say, it's very nice to see the two of you getting along so well. I was a little concerned that being chained might cause friction between you, however, Professor Dumbledore will feel vindicated that his punishment is working out so well."

"Um, thanks," Buffy replied, sounding anything but thankful. "So... any idea on those books I mentioned, Professor?"

"Ah! Cake decorating books will be under Enchanted Baking. Books on fairies will be under Home Making and Lifestyle. There's plenty been written on ways to style them. As for fairy palaces, um..." Slughorn sucked at his teeth, thoughtfully. "Mr Scamander doesn't appear to have written very much about them. You could look up Fairy Forts which should be under Ancient Landscapes."

After much searching, Buffy only checked out a single book before making their way back to the dungeons and the Common Room. Inside, green-toned lamps lit the room and there were several loud games of Exploding Snap going on. In one of the study alcoves, Buffy saw Travers playing Wizarding Chess against Fiona Goyle who – from the delighted expression on her face and the confused one on his – looked as if she was beating him. Uma Crabbe had pulled up a chair between them and sat watching the board with interest.

With nods to those in the Common Room who called out to him, Tom strode over to the main fireplace and stopped by a coffee table. Three first-years were sat on one of the Chesterfields, engrossed in a game of rolling toffee paper and head-butting the pieces into the fire. Tom stood quietly, watching their game from beneath furrowed brows until one of the boys noticed him.

"Uh!" The small boy (one of the Flints) jumped to his feet, pulling on the arms of his friends. "Sorry, Riddle, we're leaving!" They grabbed their bags of sweets and hurried off in the direction of the dorms, causing Tom to shake his head at the mess they'd left behind.

"First years!" With an expression of distaste, he used his wand to Vanish away the piles of rubbish and half-eaten food they'd left behind.

"I don't think they're fully house-trained," Buffy said, using her wand and a Tergeo to siphon up a spilt drink. Then she directed the liquid into the pot of a nearby houseplant. "Still, it was nice of them to move."

Satisfied that he could sit now without getting sticky toffee residue all over his clothes, Tom dropped down onto the sofa and stretched his long legs out in front of him making Buffy feel suddenly awkward. He hadn't left much room for her. Was that because he wanted her pressed against him, or was she overthinking this?

Buffy shot another look over at Uma, Fiona and Travers. All Fiona and Travers' attention was on the board, but Uma had seen her come in. There was a smug little grin on her plump face, almost as if she thought Buffy and Tom were on a real date and weren't tied by Dumbledore's chains.

"Surely you know Slytherin students are required to give up their seats if someone above them requires it." Tom watched her from under his lashes, feigning boredom. "I'm surprised no one has told you."

Buffy kicked at a wrinkle in the rug with her toe. "I hang out with Walburga when I'm in here. She'd do an impression of a banshee if anyone asked her to give up her seat." She continued to stand – looking about her for any older students who might march over and demand access to the sofa. "If an older student wants it, will they oust us from our seats?"

"Not since I am prefect and you're with me..." He patted the seat cushion next to him. "Sit. I won't kill you." He laughed. "Not today anyway."

"Har, har, very funny, Riddle-de-dee." Realising she had no choice, she slid down on the sofa beside him. Her magic did a crazy little leap, and she covered it by opening the book she'd got from the library.

With her head down, she asked, "How's your map reading skills, Tom-Tom? I'm hoping to find a clue where Rory is planning on taking me for Halloween. I bet it won't be far." Her nose wrinkled as a thought occurred to her. "I hope it isn't going to be underwater."

"Be prepared," advised Tom, leaning over her and peering at her book

"Like a Girl Scout!" She looked up and caught a grimace pass across his face.

"You're such a Muggle." he said softly without any real trace of malice. "I sometimes wonder how you survive in Slytherin."

Was he thinking of himself and how he'd been bullied? If so, he was right; several people had assumed that because she was a Lovegood she'd be easily intimidated. She'd soon destroyed those illusions.

"I'm a born survivor," Buffy assured him with all the confidence of someone who'd dug their way out of a collapsed building. Tom didn't take his eyes off her, and she sighed, adding, "Seriously? I just threaten people with Walburga." And she also had Spikey, her secret weapon. He'd helped turn the tables on the Parkinsons when they'd tried to get her expelled.

"Hmm." Tom tugged the book of maps from her hand. "So... you know how to cast the Bubblehead Charm?"

Buffy nodded. She recited the incantation and made the wand movements with her forefinger. It hadn't taken her long to learn that particular spell after her fight with the Grindylows. Her inner Slayer had sensed the spell would be useful and she'd only need to see it cast once to learn it.

"Good." He dropped his head to the book, flicking the pages with an elegant finger, a long section of dark hair falling over his eyes. "Such a pity that you won't be able to use it."

That had her sitting up. "What? Why can't I? Oh!" She facepalmed. "Stupid Buffy! No magic outside of Hogwarts."

Tom's eyes gleamed with amusement. She grinned back at him. "Guess, I'm going to have to take a lot of deep breaths then."

"Gillyweed," he said briskly. "Sluggy is bound to have some in his store cupboard." He gave her a speculative look that had her bristling. "If you make it worth my while, I'm sure I can persuade him to part with some." Before she could reply, Tom's dark eyes flicked from her to something behind her. "Marcus Lestrange is on his way over. He looks... upset."

Upset was a mild way of putting it. Marcus Lestrange looked as if he'd been running flat out. When he'd stepped into the carriage that morning he'd looked every inch the well-heeled, Pureblood rich kid. Privately, Buffy had thought that all the Slytherin boys they were all overdressed. They looked less like a group of teenagers going out to have a fun time in a magical village and more like adults attending a formal event. Not that Marcus looked all that formal now. His cheeks were bright red, and his auburn hair stood up all around his head like a dandelion puff. He stopped in front of them, wheezing, his hand pressed against his chest, staring first at Tom, then Buffy, and back to Tom again.

"What's the matter, Lestrange?" Tom flicked over the pages of the book, as if a panting Lestrange was something you often saw in the Common Room. "You're looking dreadfully sweaty."

Buffy shot Tom a reproachful look. Couldn't he see Marcus was upset? "Are you alright, Marcus?" she asked gently. She pointed at the sofa opposite. "Sit down. You don't look well."

"An understatement," murmured Tom under his breath and got his ankle kicked for it. He winced and gave Buffy a dark look. Not that she even noticed. All her attention and sympathy was with Lestrange which Tom instantly found annoying.

"It's my father!" As if those three words wrung it out of him, he dropped heavily onto the empty sofa across from them and stared miserably down at his hands. "Something happened to him in the Three Broomsticks."

Buffy met Tom's eyes with panic. When they'd left the Three Broomsticks it had been a relief Minister Lestrange hadn't interrogated them over Rory. At the time, Buffy had thought the Minister was preoccupied with his newspaper, but what if he'd been ill and they hadn't noticed?

Lestrange had Tom's complete attention. "What happened, Lestrange? We saw your father in the pub earlier and he seemed fine."

Marcus looked up; the rims of his eyes red, from either running – or crying. "We'd... we'd arranged to meet at 1pm for lunch and when I arrived, he didn't answer me. I thought... I thought... Dad can give me the silent treatment if I've done something wrong. I thought, one of the professors must have said something and he was annoyed. You know, if I didn't get the right result for an essay or..." He shrugged. "...whatever. So I waited, and he kept reading and reading..." Lestrange's voice shook.

"That's when... when I realised he couldn't move or speak!"

"He'd been jinxed?" Tom asked. He shared a knowing look with Buffy, who nodded slightly. It had to be Rory! The Pouka had made it clear he hadn't been happy being watched by the Minister.

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down. "Yeah, it was odd. He was able to turn the pages of his newspaper yet he couldn't move from his seat or call out. I didn't know what to do!"

"I assume you sought help from others?" Tom asked, thinking that this wasn't good news. People had seen them talking to Minister Lestrange. If people mentioned it to the teachers they could be expelled. Tom silently cursed the Pouka.

Marcus nodded. "I saw Professor Babbling and McGonagall coming in through the door and they helped. They managed to release him from the chair and floo'ed him directly to St Mungo's. I wanted to go with them, but McGonagall refused. I ran virtually the entire way from the village."

As Lestrange spoke, an idea formed in Tom's mind. Completely forgetting the chains, he jumped to his feet, almost pulling Buffy off the couch.

"Hey– wait!" she squeaked, half-hanging off the cushions.

Horrified, Tom bent to help her up. "Sorry about that. It's just... I had an idea."

Buffy and Marcus waited.

"We need to return to the library. Sluggy is on library duty, but I bet he will allow you to use the fireplace in his study to floo to St Mungo's. I don't think you should go alone, Marcus. You need your friends around you."