I spent ALL day today researching (and planning out/drawing) Diagon Alley for C25. I'd hoped to get some actual writing done, but...no...NOT! *sigh*

Anywhere, here's C15 for you. I hope you enjoy. And hey...if you do enjoy, SAY SOMETHING! Otherwise, why am I even posting here?! =(

Chapter Fifteen
"Not Welcomed"

The very next morning, when Vin didn't appear at the breakfast time, Buffy fixed the woman a cup of tea—just the way she liked it—and some toast, then she headed up to the third floor.

On the landing outside the woman's bedroom, Buffy was indecisive for only about a split second, then she balanced her tray on one hand and lightly tapped on the door.

"I'm coming in, Vin, so...I hope you're decent," Buffy called out, then reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

"Good morning, Vietnam! " she drawled as she entered the room.

The room was dark, so she put her tray down on the table directly across from the door and went to the front windows—and ripped open the curtains.

"Wakey, wakey, MommaVin!"

Groaning loudly, Vin rolled over, taking her blanket with her and pulling her pillow over her head. "Go away, Buffy!"

Buffy just laughed. "That'll teach ya to Bronze yourself into a stupor, huh?" she said as she lithely jumped up onto Vin's bed and plucked the pillow off the woman's head. "Rise and shine, Valentine!"

"I don't think I can," the dark-haired witch moaned.

"If only there was Advil in this time," Buffy said—then rolled off the bed. "Get up. I'll start the shower for you."

Vin moaned, but managed to turn over and sit up, rubbing her eyes as she went.

"Must the curtains be wide open?" she grumbled, blinking at the rude—and very bright—awakening.

"Yes. They must!" Buffy called out over her shoulder as she started into the bathroom.

Vin winced. "Lower your voice, girl!" she snapped—then whimpered, "My head is throbbing."

Buffy was back in moments with the tray she'd brought up for Vin. "Here, start with this while the water warms up," she said, handing Vin her tea and toast. "The toast will soak up the sour in your tummy. Do you guys have Aspirin?"

"Mmm. We might."

Turning, Buffy went back into the bathroom. "Not in here, you don't," she hollered. "God, you don't even have a cabinet in here. For such a fancy old house, your bathroom is lacking. There's like...serious lackage in here."

Vin started to laugh, but grimaced as soon as she did. "Sophie may have some in hers."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "As much as you two drink, you should have some on every table, in every room," she said teasingly. "I'll run and get some. You get in the shower."

"Oh. Ha ha!" Vin called out—then cringed at the volume of her own voice.

While Buffy was gone, Vin obediently went into the bathroom and stripped down and got in the shower. Just standing there, she let the water pour over her head and body until her hair was completely soaked—then she sighed and washed both her hair and her body, then rinsed and turned off the water.

Buffy had set towels out for her, so she wrapped one around her head and dried off with the other, then wrapped it around herself and left the bathroom. She found Buffy lounging in one of the chairs at the end of her bed.

"There's Aspirin and water on your vanity," Buffy said, gesturing.

Vin went directly to the table, popped the pill in her mouth and gulped down the water—then looked at the girl. "Thank you, Buffy," she said.

At this point she could have gotten dressed, but instead she just crawled back into her bed—wet hair and all—and reached for her tea.

"So, what's the sitch, Vin?" Buffy asked as she spun her chair around and looked at the pain-filled woman. Lavinia Fairweather had a massive headache from overindulging on wine the night before, but it was compounded because she'd never processed the death of her childhood friend—her heart was breaking all over again.

The dark-haired woman shrugged, but she looked a little green to the Slayer.

"God. I feel like I'm on vomit-watch here," Buffy complained. "Should I get you a bucket?"

Vin snorted. "I'm not going to be sick, I assure you," she said.

"That's a plus," Buffy said as she hefted herself out of the chair—and plopped down on Lavinia's bed. "Eat your toast."

While Vin nibbled on her toast and sipped her tea, Buffy stared up at the ceiling. It was vaulted and had a Tudor-y look to it, with decorative half-timbering—the spaces between the timbers filled with stucco—and exposed beams joining one side of the ceiling to the other. It was cozy.

"Tell me what you're thinking, Buffy Summers," Vin said after finishing a piece of toast.

Buffy shrugged. "I like it here. I do. It's a bit...scary. You know, with the war going on and all, but I'm used to the scary. It's just...I miss home. And my friends. And my mom!" she said, turning her head to look at the older woman. "And I'm sorry I've disrupted your life. And Sophie's. And brought up bad memories for you. But I'm so grateful to you both. Like, where would I be without you two?" she asked, turning her head to look at the still soggy woman.

"I'm sure you'd have come up with something," said Vin.

"Yeah, I would've been snatched by the Council and forced into servitude," the blonde said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm telling you, I'd have had to go AWOL!"

Vin laughed.

"So, tell me what you're thinking about, Lavinia Fairweather," Buffy said.

Vin sighed. "My friend," she whispered. "It was so long ago. It's hard to fathom just how long it's been. Attacked at six, dead at fourteen." She shrugged, as if that said it all. "Ariana was so sweet and kind. My friendship with her was...magical. My short time with her is what made me want to learn the craft."

Buffy rolled to her side to fully face Vin. "That's not the end of it though. You're clearly in pain and stuffing it all away. I get it, because I'm a stuffer too. But it's not good for you, because that stuff...it always come back. Like now!"

Vin's eyes filled with tears.

"You should talk to Sophie. Tell her about Ariana and what happened. Get it all out," Buffy suggested.

Vin sniffled. "Maybe."

"Please talk to me," Sophie said from the doorway.

Vin sat up—which caused the tears in her eyes to run down her face. "All right," she whispered.

"Okie dokie then!" Buffy said as she rolled out of the bed. "That's my cue to vamoose. I think I'm going to put myself together and then head over to Wools. Tom needs a visit."

Sophie snorted. "He was just here. Not even twelve hours ago."

Buffy grinned. "Yeah, and that's far too long for him to be stuck in that crappy orphanage with no friends and adults like Mrs Cole and kids like Billy freaking Stubbs!"

Sophie chuckled. "All right. Please tell him we said hello."

Nodding, Buffy left the room.

~oOo~

Buffy was across London to Lambeth and walking through the gates of Wool's in no time at all. The front door was locked, so she had to ring the bell—surprising the staff and disturbing the children's lunch time activities.

It took some time for someone to open the door and let her in—and as chance would have it, it was the boy she'd met the first time she'd come.

"Hello there," she said with a smile as soon as the door opened.

"Bethy?" he said immediately, frowning at her.

"It's Buffy," she corrected him, enunciating her own name very clearly. "I'm here to see Tom. Is he available?"

The boy continued to frown. "Not really. Everyone's having lunch at the moment," he said.

Buffy shrugged. "I can wait, Willy...why don't you go find Mrs Cole," she said, folding her arms over her chest and nodding toward the doorway. She wasn't going to be sent away after coming all the way across town.

Billy Stubbs eyed her, then reached over and rang a bell—it was clear that he had no intention of leaving her in the lobby unattended.

A short time later, Mrs Cole appeared, looking harried and just a bit annoyed that she'd been called out to the front entrance when the boy had been sent to handle it. When she saw Buffy, she narrowed her eyes.

"You may return to lunch, Billy," the older woman said. It was an order that brooked no argument—not that any of the children argued with the orphanage matron.

When Billy had taken his leave, Mrs Cole gestured at a hard wooden bench and waited for Buffy to sit down before she rang the bell again, then left to go find Tom.

All the other children were sitting together having their midday meal, but not Tom Riddle. No, she'd seen that he'd nicked some food and quickly retreated, most likely back up to his room. It was not surprising to the woman at all, given his lack of social skills and his obvious dislike for everyone at Wool's.

At his bedroom door, Mrs Cole gave two sharp knocks, then tried the door handle when there was no answer. It was locked, of course—Tom did not like anyone in what he considered his space.

"Tom. You have a visitor," she called out, slapping the door.

Almost immediately the door creaked open a mere three inches—just enough for the woman to see the taller young man. He'd grown quite a bit over the last school year and was now taller than she was.

"That girl is downstairs asking for you," she said.

"Buffy?"

"Which other girl has visited?" Mrs Cole asked, her tone terse. "It's not right, you know? A girl coming to call on a boy. It's...unseemly."

Tom didn't say anything, but instead opened his door just slight further.

"What sort of parents allow their daughter to do such a thing?" the woman continued.

Tom tilted his head just slightly, his eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't know, Mrs Cole."

"You have chores, young man," she went on.

"I arranged with Martha to trade with another," said Tom. "Amy wasn't feeling well enough for chores this morning, so I filled in since I was already in the downstairs."

He didn't mention why he'd been down there. He'd been sneaking around, trying to gather information about his parents. Who were they? What happened to them? And why was he here? He'd managed to get himself into Mrs Cole's files room, but was disappointed that everything was locked up tight. If only he could use his wand!

"And Eric was reassigned to complete my after lunch clean up."

"Hmm. And your room? Have you swept?" the woman pushed, trying to look around him.

Tom pulled his door wide open and motioned Mrs Cole into the room. "I've even cleaned the skirtings and wiped down the windows," he said.

Mrs Cole stood in the doorway—she never dared to enter Tom Riddle's space completely—and looked around. "Your bed is untidy and why is there food in the room."

"I will tidy up straight away," he promised, not mentioning the food. They weren't technically supposed to eat in their rooms—it brought out the creatures and pests—but he regularly broke that rule and always kept his room clean and orderly. But if Mrs Cole looked in his wardrobe, she'd find that he'd stashed the bits and pieces of non-perishables he'd not finished.

Mrs Cole gave the room one more look, then turned her eyes back on Tom. "See that you do so quickly. Then go down and find out what that girl wants."

Tom nodded.

The woman eyed him, then turned and walked out.

Not bothering to shut his door behind Mrs Cole, Tom turned and straightened his mess, then closed the door on his way out.

~oOo~

Buffy's wait seemed like forever to her. She sat there, quietly tapping her foot on the flooring—being glared at by the awful penitentiary-like receptionist lady who'd walked into the room just moments after Mrs Cole had left it. Basically, the woman was there to keep an eye on Buffy—like she was some child in need of a babysitter—while the matron of the orphanage was gone. And she stood here, arms folded, watching Buffy like she was going to walk off with...well, Buffy didn't know what! There was nothing in the small entrance room except the bench she was sitting on. Not even a nice plant!

Buffy's eyes were drawn to her own tapping foot—and the ground under it. The flooring was some sort of large, light-colored tile, but it in the low light, they just seemed bleak and cold. But clean. Someone must sweep frequently, she thought as she shifted her gaze back up to the woman—who was just staring at her!

"Nice day out," Buffy said, trying to make conversation.

"Hmm. I wouldn't know," the woman said curtly.

"O-kay," Buffy said as she went back to looking around the room. The walls consisted of dark bricks with a the occasional light brick mixed in. Not attractive at all. It almost felt like something that the Watcher's Council might have chosen for their headquarters. It was dark and dreary and just... blech!

Tipping her head back against the wall, Buffy looked up. The small room had very tall windows over the main doors—at least three stories high—but they were blacked out and no sun was shining in. This was more so that any lighting at night could not get out, she supposed, but in the daytime it just looked depressing. There was some sort of chandelier hanging on a long chain overhead, but it was flickering and wasn't providing much in the way of light.

And the ceiling, high above her, which might have been off white at some point, Buffy decided as she squinted up into the darkness, had faded over time into a boring hazy beige color. It was just too hard to see three stories up, with very little light.

"Buffy?"

Turning, Buffy smiled and stood up. "Tom. Hi."

Tom glanced at the woman who was watching them and waited. For a moment she gazed back at him, then she huffed and walked out of the room. Only then did he look back at Buffy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, confused, but also curious. He'd never admit how pleased he was as well.

"Hello to you too, Buffy," she said with a smile.

His eyes narrowed. "Hello," he said—then waited.

Buffy shrugged, then answered his question. "I wanted to see you."

Tom's lips thinned into a smirk. "Missed me already, did you?"

"Something like that," Buffy said. "Well, that and I wanted to get out of the house. Vin was having a meltdown over Professor Dumbledore's sister and..." She shrugged. "I thought I'd get out and let Sophie handle it. They needed to talk."

Tom nodded. It made sense.

"Were you eating?" Buffy said next. "That Billy guy said it was lunch time. He totally acted like I was interrupting. I could come back."

Tom shook his head, then frowned a bit. "Well, yes, it is meal time, but I'd taken food up to my room. I'd just finished. You saw Billy?" He grimaced.

Buffy nodded. "He was the one who greeted me at the door when I rang the bell. Though greeted is a stretch. I thought he was going to ask me to leave. Just as pleasant the second time around, huh?"

"I told you they don't like me," he reminded her.

Buffy nodded. "Yes, you've said that. And that they have reason not to like you. What could you have done to all of them that was so horrible?"

"You don't want to know," he said firmly. "And I'd rather not say."

Buffy watched him. He was very mysterious!

"And they're not going to like you...by association," Tom continued.

"Pfft! I don't care if Billy doesn't like me," she said. "And I don't much care for people who can't remember my name. Am I that forgettable?"

Tom shook his head. "Definitely not. What did he call you?"

Buffy grimaced. "Bethy."

"You're definitely not a Bethany...or even an Elizabeth, for that matter."

Buffy grinned—and when she did, her smile lit up the room. "Nice names, but... so not me," she said, giving an overly dramatic shudder—as she watched him for a reaction. "So. What are you doing today?"

"I was studying," he said.

Buffy's nosed scrunched up with distaste—causing a wholly uncharacteristic laugh to come out of the boy. He immediately cleared his throat and tried to act as if the sound of amusement had not come from him.

"Professor Slughorn loaned me a few books to read over the summer," he explained seriously—then continued when she gave him a blank look. "I like to be prepared."

"Hmm. I never have much time for studying," Buffy said. "My mother's always hounding me, but...Slayer duties take precedence."

Tom nodded. "I understand, but you will need to find a balance at Hogwarts. I don't imagine there will be much slaying to do while you're attending."

"You'd be surprised," she said. "There's always slayage to be had. Everywhere."

"Even in Scotland?" he asked.

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't been there, but...I imagine so. Vamps are everywhere." She frowned then. "I have a lot to catch up on, don't I?"

He nodded. "You do. Four years worth of studies."

Buffy grimaced. "I wish Willow was here," she said sadly.

"Willow?" he queried, cocking his head to the side. She'd not talked much about her friends. "She is your friend in Sunnyvale."

Buffy's lips twitched. "Dale. It's Sunnydale," she corrected him. "And yes. Willow is the best! She's my wallflower friend who excels in academics! She's smart and quirky and we have so much fun together when we're not...you know...taking care of the baddies. She's very much my go-to when I need a study buddy. Do students get expelled from Hogwarts if their grades are bad?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't know anyone who earns poor marks," he said. "I can help you. Study. If you'd like."

Buffy smiled. "Thanks!"

"Would you like to see my books?"

Buffy grinned. "Will you let me touch them?"

Tom bark out a laugh—then froze. What was this girl doing to him?!

"Technically, I'm not allowed girls in my room, but...I think Mrs Cole will make an exception for studying. Maybe." He frowned. "There are a few rooms that the children use for their studies during the school year. But my books are...different, so I'd rather use my room."

Buffy shrugged. "Should we ask Mrs Cole?"

Tom thought about it for a moment, the shook his head. "No. If she has an issue, she can inform me later."

"You won't get in trouble?"

"It wouldn't be more than a stern talking to, so..."

"All right! Let's do this!"