Little Ripper.

It was breakfast time and Tom was talking to Malfoy about his family's library at Malfoy Manor, whilst Buffy picked at her breakfast, her mind elsewhere. There were essays to hand in, a cute outfit she'd seen advertised in Uma's magazine and her mom's latest letter. The Headmaster had written to Joyce and informed her about her daughter's behaviour and punishment. Joyce was not happy. Reading between the lines, Buffy had the impression her mom was worried in case she was turning into a female version of her father. Everyone knew that Grindelwald had caused so much trouble in Durmstrang that he'd been expelled.

Buffy stabbed at the heap of scrambled eggs on her plate. Not only had she had to deal with her mom's letter, she'd had to refuse invites to three Halloween parties, plus a Samhain ritual for the dead. That last one had worried her – especially since the Blacks were hosting it. It was Uma who'd explained that the ritual was just a way of honouring your ancestors and no corpses, real or otherwise, would be resurrected.

But just refusing those invites pained her. Constantly turning down party invites was a sure fire way of committing social suicide. After a while, no one would bother inviting you again. How had she gotten to the stage where stealing demon traps was more important than hanging out at a party with her friends? She was fifteen. Her life was sort of depressing.

Buffy picked up her knife and began to slice into the sausage on her plate. There was another thing she had to do and sometime soon. Travers had stolen a black-handled silver bladed knife from the DADA classroom wall last night and slipped it to her in the Slytherin Common Room early this morning. She needed to find a better place to hide it than her school trunk.

She was so lost in her gloomy thoughts that she didn't notice the large European Eagle owl hovering above her until the downbeat of its wings stirred her hair. She looked up, to see it carried a letter in its claws before the bird swooped and landed in front of her on the table. Its claws scrabbled at the polished surface and almost fell onto her plate. Buffy was so busy trying to read the writing on the envelope that she hardly noticed.

To Miss Buffy Lovegood.

Hogwarts Castle,

Scotland.

She had a bad feeling. That impossibly neat handwriting must have been written by a Self-Writing quill. Was it done to disguise the sender? The owl raised its feathery eyebrows, hooted, and held out the letter towards her.

At the same time, Tom turned and said, "Aren't you going to take it?"

"I'm, um, thinking about it."

"What's there to think about?"

Buffy shrugged.

"Tom! What's your opinion on this book?" Marcus Lestrange called out. "Come and settle an argument for us!"

Tom sighed, rolled his eyes, and turned away.

If she didn't take the letter people were going to ask why. Pulling the envelope from the owl's grasp, Buffy slid her finger beneath the flap, breaking the unmarked seal. Unfolding it gingerly, she recognised stylish cursive handwriting straight away.

Grindelwald!

Her first instinct was to ball it up, throw it high into the air and set fire to it. That would cause awkward questions though. She could burn it later? And then she'd wonder what it had said. It could be something important. It could be telling her her mom was in danger! Her mom could be injured or die because she hadn't bothered to read the letter! With a little huff of annoyance, Buffy began to read.

'Princess,

I hope this missive finds you well, as I am well. Recent events have caused me to set quill to parchment.

Although I have taken great pleasure in learning you have taken Hogwarts by storm, I urge caution in your dealings with a certain Transfiguration professor. As you will have already learned, the man is not as moral nor as innocent as he pretends, and he has no hesitation when it comes to using you as a way of taking revenge against me.

Indeed, he has a reputation for manipulating those who are close to him – moving them into position like a chess player moves his pieces around the board. To him, all are expendable...'

Buffy's nose wrinkled. Was Grindelwald right? Would Dumbledore put people in danger and would he let them die to claim a victory? She knew his Gryffindors adored him, and he had the respect of most in the wizarding world, but did she trust him? And when it came down to it, who did she trust more, Grindelwald or Dumbledore? With a little frown, she returned to the letter.

'This... binding you to another pupil, I find it extremely distressing.'

"You find it distressing? It's way beyond distressing," Buffy muttered too low for anyone to hear.She liked Tom – really liked Tom – but she hadn't been able to train, patrol or go visit with Spikey since the chains had gone on.

'Although here I do need to rebuke you. Insulting a boy's genitalia is beneath you. It is not the behaviour of a Pureblooded witch from a powerful family. I blame your mother. She brought you up amongst Muggles and didn't teach you any better. Indeed, your behaviour reminds me of a bickering Muggle fishwife.'

Buffy silently screamed. A bickering fishwife? This, from a guy who'd tried to burn down Paris with Fiendfyre and then reanimated the corpse of a Quilin so he could be elected as president over the Wizarding world? He was calling her out for bad behaviour?

'I am sorry if my words have offended you. However, I am a concerned father. Fighting in the classroom is not a good idea. Do not make the same mistake as I did. Do not give those in authority the opportunity to expel you. Remember, you are above that. We are descended from a line of great witches and wizards who used skill and cunning to destroy their rivals and blaze a trail to power and glory...'

Buffy wanted to throw the letter away. Did he think she'd like hearing that she was related to a bunch of homicidal megalomaniacs? Weird stuff like that could kill your appetite. Buffy picked up a slice of toast and bit into it. It could be worse, she thought as she munched. She could be descended from a line of Brachen demons – though the double neck joint might come in handy during a fight.

'It came as no surprise to me to learn your Transfiguration professor took advantage of your inexperience and inflicted an archaic punishment upon you. He knew that by attaching you to one of dubious parentage, and questionable upbringing, your name and reputation would be sullied.

I must also warn you about the boy you are chained to. Tom Riddle is nothing but a common, penniless orphan trying to gain a name by hanging on to the coattails of his peers and toadying his teachers. His future is both cloudy and shrouded in darkness. I don't like him.'

Buffy peered over the top of her letter. Tom had his back to her and was arguing with Lestrange and Malfoy over some book. She angled the letter around a little bit, not wanting Tom to see what Grindelwald had written about him.

'I hope by now, D has freed you. If not, know that steps are in place to end it.'

'End it?' Buffy hoped he wasn't sending magical ninjas into Hogwarts to kidnap her and kill Dumbledore. She'd enough to deal with right now.

'Princess, forgive my slight disappointment with you. I really am proud to call you daughter and can't wait to declare to the world who you are.'

Buffy's heart sank. Crap! That was going to be a nightmare. Maybe she could persuade him to keep quiet and pretend he was no relation.

'Not only have you shown diligence in your studies and a superior intelligence, but you have not let our illustrious family down with displays of weak, ineffectual magic. Once given the training that was denied you, I foresee an impressive future ahead...'

Buffy really hoped he didn't mean 'foresee' anything in the prophetic sense. Here she had the chance of a long and peaceful life – with only the occasional clandestine slaying excursion on the side.

'...I often think of that sad day when I saw your name and sweet features disappearing from our family's tree. Knowing that you were either dead or had lost your magic, I went into a great rage. All fled before me that day, for I almost destroyed the castle such was my grief.'

"Guy's a fruit loop," Buffy muttered to herself. Grief? She hadn't died; not that day, anyhow. She could remember the panic in her mom's voice when she'd told her about how Grindelwald sent people to take her from her. If he hadn't done that, none of the Dumbledore stuff would have happened. Buffy glared at the letter.

'Image my joy when I saw your face reappear a few months ago. Your face, with those beguiling green eyes and the fairest of hair, just as I'd seen them so long ago. Yes, Buffy, I had a vision of you before you were conceived. I foresaw your mother and I, saw our time together in the lift...'

Buffy suddenly felt itchy and icky. Did she have time to take a shower in bleach before her first lesson?

'One day soon, we will speak of this further... I have so much to teach you. Once your formal education is over, you shall join me and together we will change the world.'

Buffy snorted. Grindelwald could keep his warped visions of a new world. She liked it just the way it was.

'….And now, another warning. You are sneaking out of Hogwarts, consorting with odd characters in low drinking houses and implying to others that I have sent him to speak to you...'

Buffy put the letter into her lap and shot a dark look at Marcus Lestrange. It had to be Minister Lestrange reporting to Grindelwald. Was Marcus in on this? She had the urge to pull him to one side and ask him, but she couldn't right now – not while chained to Tom.

'If this young wizard told you I sent him, he lies. Do not let a handsome face and a charming manner sway you into making rash decisions. Do not make him any promises, in matters of marriage or power...'

Buffy snickered. Grindelwald would freak out if he knew Rory was a Pouka. She was half-tempted to write back and say, 'Hey, Dad, I met someone! He's a Pouka, and we're getting married and setting up home in Fairyland.'

'There will always be those who make promises of love and loyalty, yet fail to keep their promises. I want better than that for you. I want the world. Be wary of the motives of all. Again, I cannot say it enough, D is your enemy...'

Grindelwald had a real bee in his bonnet over Dumbledore. Buffy shot a look at the teachers' table. Dumbledore looked strangely isolated while Sluggy and Merrythought talked happily across him. Today, even his sparkly robes didn't make up for the straggly, greying hair and beard and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept well.

'...As for that traitor, Hubert Von Kendrick, he claimed that his experiments were for the good of all magical kind. He wished to learn why Squibs appear in Pureblood families and find a way of helping them. I fear any noble motive has long gone. Stay on your guard and learn your lessons well. Your magic will save you.

Yours, with great love and affection,

G.

P.S. The owl is a gift and will find me, should you wish to write.'

Buffy folded the letter and looked at the owl. It had stolen a sausage from her plate and was tearing into it with its beak. Sensing her gaze, it looked up guiltily and then let out a little worried hoot. Buffy's heart softened. None of this was the owl's fault, and the poor thing looked hungry.

"You've flown a long way, haven't you? You're welcome to eat the sausage." Did she want an owl? What was she going to tell her mom when she asked where it came from? What else could she do? Release it into the wild? How would it survive? The native owls might kill it. It could destroy the local ecosystem and she'd be blamed.

"It says here, that you now belong to me." The owl tilted its head and scrutinised her. It didn't look impressed with her.

"You'll need to go up to the owlery and hang out with the other owls and do..." She had no idea what owls did in their free time. "...owly-type things."

"Bad news?" Tom asked.

Buffy tensed. "Um, that would be kind of a yeah, and a no." A yes because Grindelwald was bad news, and no because it had only been a warning – and a feathery gift.

"Who sent it?" Although he'd kept his tone casual, Tom's eyes glittered with suspicion.

Had he seen the letter? Feeling rattled, she sniped, "My gynaecologist."

Tom froze, eyes widening, jaw moving wordlessly.

Buffy closed her eyes. Crap! Tom wasn't Xander. Xander would have realised she was joking and made a hilarious comeback. Tom was... he was more sedate – like Giles. 'More like Ripper,' the slayer part of her corrected. That was true, Tom wasn't scared of using magic.

"Jeez, Tom." She flashed him a little lop-sided smile to cover her discomfort. "It was a joke. It isn't really from my gynaecologist."

Tom's mouth twitched and he drawled, "I did wonder... your family name is 'love good', after all."

It was Buffy's turn to gape. That... that was a risqué joke, especially coming from Tom. He smirked back at her; the tinge of red in his cheeks emphasised the smouldering blue of his irises. She was staring, she knew it, but couldn't look away. Tom's smile... No wonder the Parkinson girls had wanted him for themselves.

"Yeah," the word came out croaky, so she swallowed to clear her throat. "No more good love jokes, please." Buffy flicked his prefect badge with a finger before slipping the letter into her skirt pocket. It would be safe there, away from prying eyes.

Tom leaned back, the shadow of the smile still on his face. "So... not your gynaecologist, then?"

Buffy groaned. "No. Look, since you've got to know who sent it so badly –."

"I don't." He did, but wouldn't admit it. "It's purely idle curiosity."

"It's from a crusty relative of mine that no one ever sees," Buffy replied in a rush. It was the truth. Sort of.

"Crusty?" Tom asked, puzzled. "You mean, as in bread?"

She clicked her tongue again. "Duh, like an 'old guy'. Like... someone Dumblede-bore's age."

"Oh," Tom replied. "Right." He imagined a hermit living in a house surrounded by overgrown gardens. The Lovegoods were known for their eccentricity. This 'old guy' was probably a great uncle or a fourth cousin or something similar.

Buffy shrugged. "He wishes me well at Hogwarts and sends the owl as a gift. I'm surprised to hear from him, that's all."

Tom regarded the large owl thoughtfully. Despite its size, the bird looked sleek and well-bred. "What's his name?"

Buffy stilled. "The relative?"

Tom's gaze went back to her. "No, the owl."

"Um." She shrugged, helplessly.

"I would change it. You say 'um' a lot. The bird poor will constantly be flying to you, thinking you've called it."

"It isn't named Um." Buffy tossed her hair and pouted. "And I do not say 'um' a lot either."

"You really do."

"Huh!" She looked back to the owl which raised a feathery eyebrow at her. "Okay. I guess I need to name it..." The owl had large, amber eyes with a dark circle around them, almost making it look as if it wore glasses. "I'll call him Giles."

Tom was taken aback. "You're naming your owl after a Muggle teacher?"

He'd remembered her talking about Giles! Pleased he'd remembered, Buffy's smile dimpled, and her voice took on a husky note. "Yeah. Giles really was that special."

"Was?" Tom questioned. His voice was sharp – hating that she thought others were special. "Has he died?"

"He... isn't alive now." She gave herself a little shake, not wanting to zone out into past life memories. "You'd have liked Giles. And he wasn't just a teacher, he was like a father to me. Not that he was perfect. He had this darker side too, when he was younger his nickname was Ripper."

She missed the speculation flashing across Tom's face, she was too busy watching the owl ripping into another sausage and flick away the skin. "Yeah, I think this owl is a Ripper. Giles would be pleased."

Aware she was giving too much about her old life away, she changed the subject. "Why do you think Dumbledore hasn't removed our chains yet? I thought Lestrange was calling a meeting of the school governors. He seemed sure they'd vote against letting him continue with it. It's almost the end of the week, and time is kinda jogging along."

On Saturday night she was sneaking out of Hogwarts to go to Fairyland. What if Dumbledore hadn't taken the chains off by then? She knew Tom could fight without a wand – she'd seen him in action back in London – but that had been against humans. She'd prefer it if he stayed fray adjacent in future. What if she got into a fight? If Tom saw her fighting, he'd see that she wasn't like normal girls and that would cause questions. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

…..

"It's not fair!" Buffy whined. "You did this first time. And that... cat-thing, it has it in for me!"

They were in Transfiguration, and Dumbledore had tasked the students with changing cats into ducks. Buffy's subject – a half-grown kitten – sat on her desk while Buffy stood to one side, wand in hand and a sulk on her face.

This was embarrassing! She was a slayer and she couldn't even zap a fake cat! Every time she went to transfigure it, the cat meowed. It never failed to put her off. Once, she'd been so startled by the plaintive cry that her spell had gone astray and she'd zapped the back of Malfoy's head. His ponytail had transformed into something hard, orange and rubbery looking. Of course, Malfoy had groused, saying she'd zapped him on purpose and that she shouldn't be allowed out with civilised people. The racket brought Dumbledore over, and... well, he'd accused her of disrupting lessons again.

"I'm not better than you," Tom replied, trying not to smile – even Buffy's sulks were adorable.

Buffy pouted at him and then scowled at the cat.

"Seriously," he continued, "It isn't a case of being better. It's a case of you letting this construct distract you. Try to think of it as something other than a cat. Dumbledore probably transfigured it from..." He cast around in his mind, searching for a likely object. A cheap and common toy, perhaps? "... a marble."

"A marble? He's made cats out of marbles?" Buffy repeated. "And that leads to the question whose marbles? Not his." She snorted. "His went missing years ago."

Tom smirked. He'd learned over the past few days that Buffy disliked Dumbledore almost as much as he did. "I agree. The man is marble-less. See, let me show you the wand movement again."

Stepping behind her, he put a hand on her wand arm. The contact sent prickles of magic running along his arm, into his shoulder and down into his chest. His heart began pounding. He bit his bottom lip, leaning in, eyes on the skin above the collar of her school shirt, imagining the soft and sensitive skin that lay below. Why did she tempt him so? He leaned closer still, his nose only a few inches from her hair and inhaled.

"Tom?" Buffy asked, breaking whatever trance he was in.

He jerked his head back, feeling foolish. He, Heir to Slytherin and Dark Lord in the making sniffing a girl's hair. This stupidity had to end now. There was no place in his life for feminine distractions. But... he did want to discover and unwrap all her little secrets.

'Unwrap, in more ways than one,' chimed a voice happily inside his head. 'And you might as well get all over it over with at once.'

"As I was saying," Tom began, ignoring his internal monologue. "This is simply one of Professor Dumbledore's constructs. Should it mew, ignore it. It is a marble pretending to be cat. Concentrate on your pronunciation and remember the wand movement."

He gently moved her arm, finishing with an up and inward flick.

"At the end of the day, magic is all down to intent." He released her arm and stepped back. "Try once more. Remember the incantation is Ducklifors. You hit Malfoy with a Duckliform before."

"I..." Buffy stopped. Tom was right; she hadn't been concentrating. This morning, she'd woken up from a bad dream of being caught by evil fairies to find Spikey staring at her in his pufferfish form. Then Grindelwald's letter out of the blue had thrown her. She felt as if she was juggling balls in the air, each one a separate problem, and if she dropped one the whole lot would come crashing down on her.

Her cat lifted its back leg and started licking itself. She felt sure that was a cat's way of giving her the middle finger. What if... she pretended it was a demon? A butt-licking demon cat! Yeah, that would work. Steeling herself, she pointed her wand at the creature.

"Hey, Butt-Licker! Prepare to meet your maker!"

The cat stopped licking and let out a pathetic mew, but this time her wand and mind were steady.

"Duckliddlefeet!"A yellow-orange light burst out the tip of the wand.

BAM!

The spell hit the cat between the eyes and a cloud of thick, sickly-yellow-coloured smoke enveloped it.

Tom burst out laughing. "So impressive! That smells of sulphur. Did you send it to Muggle Hell?"

"No!" Buffy lifted the hem of her robe and began using it to waft away the smoke. "Why did I get smoke? No one else got smoke. You're not helping me, Tom. Come and waft."

In front of them, Abraxas turned around and then touched his hair. "What's she done? Is my hair alright? Salazar, Buffy, you're a complete menace in the classroom. I swear, if you've done anything to it again I'm going to– "

"Stop whining, Malfoy. Your hair is fine," Tom interrupted in a voice Malfoy didn't dare argue against.

"Miss Summers!" called Dumbledore. Heads around the class turned as he marched through the maze of desks towards her, star-spangled robes rustling with every step. "Why is there so much smoke coming from your desk?"

"Um," said Buffy, staring at the thing that was once a cat and now was... something else. "Um, I don't know. Um, I think, um, my spell-thingy went, um, wrong."

Tom couldn't resist whispering, "Five 'um's'. Is that a record or are you simply warming up?"

"Shut up," hissed Buffy, shooting him a death glare. "You're not helping." She turned her back to the desk and tried hiding her Transfiguration misshape. "Stop teasing me about my 'uming'."

Tom grinned, not the slightest bit intimidated by the glare. "Make me, Um-Girl."

"You're really not funny, snake-guy," Buffy muttered darkly.

Tom merely chuckled and let out a hiss, which got him another dark look.

From the opposite side of the aisle, Victor Avery let out a bark of laughter – he'd spotted Buffy's 'duck'. "Oi, Summers. You've surpassed yourself there!"

Buffy closed her eyes, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. This was so not funny! By lunchtime, the entire school would know she'd produced mutants.

Professor Dumbledore stopped in front of her desk, pushed his glasses up his nose and rocked back on his heels. "Oh, dear. Whatever did you do wrong?"

Not sure how to explain, Buffy said, "Um."

Tom smirked.

Buffy hurriedly looked away, fixing her eyes on Dumbledore. "I'm not sure. I don't think it was my wand movement, I was extra-careful."

"The incantation then?" Dumbledore asked. "Did you pronounce it correctly?"

"Sure, Duckliddlefeet."

"Ah. It's fors,"

Buffy screwed up her nose. "Four what?"

"The incantation is 'Duck-li-fors', not Duck-liddle-feet."

Buffy regarded her transfiguration sadly. Four duck's feet – not attached to a body – unhappily hopped around her desk. Dumbledore caught one just as it threw itself off like a lemming, and then he scooped the other three.

With a swift "Finite Incantatem," Dumbledore reversed her spell. Not into the cat, like she thought he would, but into a shiny glass marble.

"Glad to see your marble is okay, Professor." Buffy sneaked a look at Tom, who refused to catch her eye. "I'm still feeling bad about your Transfigured cat though."

Dumbledore put the marble into his pocket. "Not to worry, not to worry," he replied. "These things always happen. At least, some degree or another. " He regarded her over the top of his half-moon glasses. "You almost had it, you know."

"What happened to the rest of the cat?" Buffy was perplexed. "Did I Vanish it?

"No, no. It's a case of simple mispronunciation and a lack of clear direction." Dumbledore shook his head. "We won't cover Vanishment until next year."

"So Vanishment can make a living creature disappear?" Buffy pressed.

Dumbledore nodded.

"What about non-living creatures?" Buffy's mind began racing with the possibilities. "And what about people? Can you Vanish people?"

Tom side-eyed her, his face intrigued. In front of them, both Malfoy and Lestrange turned their heads, wanting to see how Dumbledore responded to that question.

"Why would you want to?" Dumbledore asked coldly, his face as hard as flint.

Oops! Buffy sought around for a plausible excuse, something other than, 'I'm a secret slayer and I kill for the greater good'. She couldn't see that going down well.

"For self-defence." That was allowable, they even took lessons in it – they called it DADA class.

"For self-defence?" Dumbledore repeated, his eyes seeking hers.

Buffy didn't meet his eye. Mind reading is not going to work with me, buddy! "Yeah. What if... I'm on my way home one night – minding my own business – when some Von Kendrick type leaps out and attacks me. I scream, leap to one side, his spell misses me and then I draw my wand. Am I allowed to go poof!" She waved her wand, sending a spray of red and green sparks flying into the air. "And make the bad guy vanish?"

"I see," said Dumbledore, who clearly didn't.

She tried again. "Is Vanishing someone something I'd be sent straight to Azkaban for?" She tilted her head, trying to look innocent and not too eager or sneaky. "Is it one of the super-illegal spells you told me about?"

"Ah." Dumbledore realised what it was she was asking. "Vanishment is not an Unforgivable. That which has been Vanished can be brought back."

From the corner of his eye, Dumbledore spotted Tom. His eyes never left Buffy's face and it was one of the rare times his face revealed his true feelings. There was a mix of interest, awe and cunning there that instantly bothered Dumbledore. "Tom, can you name the three Unforgivables?"

The Slytherin tensed, and nodded. "Yes, Professor. They are the Imperius, the Cruciatos and the Killing Curse."

"Correct." Begrudgingly, Dumbledore added, "One point to Slytherin."

Dumbledore's attention returned back to the American girl. Her expression – the tilt of her head and that little smile – was so like her father's that he almost drew his wand. Back when they'd been friends, Grindelwald had the same mannerism when he was plotting something nefarious. Dumbledore had to give himself a little shake. For him, this was why dealing with Buffy was so difficult. The more she settled into her magic she was, the more like him in looks she became. Or did she? Was this just his imagination at work?

Clearing his throat, he began, "Vanishment is not a simple spell to master. Oh, we teach it in its basic form at Newt level, and students are expected to to make small objects and conjured items disappear, but Vanishing larger items and animals takes a great deal of practise and concentration. As for Vanishing people..." he paused, some of the older books spoke of it, but no one in living memory had seen it. "I shan't say it has never happened; it could well have done so at some point in the mists of times."

"So no good for the regular smiting of the enemies?" Buffy was making a mental note to start researching Vanishing spells. Vampires went 'poof', but some demons had left behind bodies. Once she turned seventeen, she could use magic outside of Hogwarts and life would be simpler – at least for her slaying.

"There are far easier charms to use to impede an enemy."

"Could Grindelwald Vanish someone?" asked Tom. He'd always thought the Killing Curse was a clean way to kill; Vanishing them away would remove them and their unwanted corpses.

Dumbledore hmm'd. "We have seen no sign of it and Grindelwald prefers – ."

"The more showy-type stuff?" interrupted Buffy thoughtfully. "He's more of a showman isn't he?Like a Magician, distracting the audience from the sneakier stuff he's got going on in the background."

"Is she talking about Muggles and their silly parlour tricks?" Malfoy hissed to Lestrange. Lestrange shrugged. Malfoy snorted. "I don't think Grindelwald would be amused if he found out she was comparing him to one of them."

Dumbledore gave Malfoy a stern look, then answered Buffy. "That isn't quite how I'd describe him, but I do understand the analogy. You need to remember that, should you ever have dealings with him."

Leaving Buffy to digest that comment, he clapped his hands to get the attention of the other students.

"Class, I believe Miss Summers has provided us with enough entertainment for today. Our time is almost up for today, so you may pack away your things...

Don't forget!" he shouted over the cacophony of students scraping back chairs and slamming their textbooks shut. "I want at least twelve inches of parchment detailing exactly where you went wrong today and how you will or did correct it. To be handed in at the beginning of our next lesson!"

Lowering his voice, he spoke to Buffy and Tom. "I want to see you both in my office later. Six o'clock sharp."

Buffy whispered to Tom, "What do you think he wants? Are we going to get a detention?"

Tom shoved the last of his books into his bag. "I don't think so." Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he began to help Buffy clear away her things. "It's probably about removing our chains."

The thought gave him mixed feelings. Having Buffy constantly with him felt... right – even if she did attract chaos and odd people like Rubeus Hagrid.

"Let's hope you're right." Buffy watched Tom swing her bag over his shoulder. From the very first day, he'd insisted on carrying her books. He'd laughed when she'd protested it was too heavy, asking her if she'd never heard of a Featherlight Charm?

She'd miss being with him. Would he miss her? He'd better! In fact, she was going to make sure he did. Ignoring the students passing them, she put a hand on his chest to stop him moving away, then tugged on his tie to straighten it. "You know, Tom, I can't wait to get these off."

"What?" Tom went very still. Did she mean his clothes? His breath hitched. "What... what do you want to take off?"

Buffy clicked her tongue in mock exasperation, then raised her wrist and indicated the silver band locked around her wrist. "These. Honestly, Tom, whatever did you think I meant?"

…..

A/N;

thanks to Deiticlast for beta-ing.

Sorry for lack of story, I had double pneumonia and ended up in hospital three times over the past few weeks. Then I got pleurisy which was horrendous! I never got out of bed for a full week. Another dr's visit this week, I am still recovering.

So if you liked the chapter, please review. If there is something you didn't like or you see a spelling mistake etc, let me now. Thank you :-)