I'm happy to say that my new laptop has arrived and I've got it up and running, but I'm still using the old one for writing...which I'm saving and saving and saving (to prevent panic)...as I've not figured out how to use the different Office program yet. To be honest, I'm lazy and like my old Office 2003 and the thought of figuring out Office 365 is daunting. Yes, I'm a baby!

So, last week I was at more training for work. I had hoped to return to the hotel each evening and get some writing done, but my brain was COMPLETELY fried each night upon returning from class, so...hardly anything got written during the week. Just one minor scene in C57 was added and I'm not even sure that I like it. Haha. In fact, I don't like it, but it's staying...as I don't often delete scenes.

On another site I promised someone I'd post today, so...here's a next chapter!

Chapter Forty-three
Practice Makes Perfect

The kitchen tidy again, Buffy and Tom bid the sisters farewell, then quickly departed the room to get away from Sophie's glaring and grumbling about 'irresponsible children attempting to dismantle the place'—as if they'd meant to destroy the kitchen! Sure, they'd gotten just a little bit carried away, but everything had been put to rights in the end, so...no harm, no foul. Right?

But apparently not in Sophie's opinion!

"I cannot believe what they've done to my kitchen," Sophie lamented as she stared up at their new purple piece of art on the wall.

Vin snorted. "Who's kitchen?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Vin shrugged. "It isn't as though it couldn't be fixed, Soph," she said. "Everything has been fixed."

Frowning, Sophie bit her lip. "I suppose."

"And after last night's mishap," Vin went on, gesturing at the remnants of purple potion, "what's the big?" She shrugged.

Sophie's demeanor immediately changed. Throwing her head back, she burst out laughing. "You sound like Buffy."

Grinning, Vin shrugged again and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "Perhaps we ought to find a way to protect a room, so that there can be no any further mishaps," she suggested. "Buffy and Tom need a safe place to practice their magic."

Sophie harrumphed. "I hope they don't take down our house or kill themselves in the process."

Vin rolled her eyes. "It isn't as if we aren't capable of fixing whatever is damaged in the cross-fire, but...if we carefully placed a few spells here and there in the house...or even just one room if you'd prefer...then they can practice and learn until their hearts are content."

"And what about the fact that they were risking their lives? " Sophie asked. "It looked like a war zone in here." She frowned again. She hadn't considered the dangers of combative magic.

Vin sighed. "They weren't fighting, just...dueling."

Sophie snorted. "Are you sure?"

"You saw them when they left the room," Vin said with a shrug. "Did they look upset with one another?"

"I suppose not," Sophie reluctantly agreed.

Vin sighed with relief. "All right then. Shall we have more tea?" she asked to change the subject.

~oOo~

After leaving the kitchen, Buffy and Tom sneaked down to her bedroom—where they could study in peace. After entering her room, Buffy closed the door and turned to smile at Tom. He was watching her and looked slightly uncomfortable, which caused her smile to fade.

"What?" she asked. "What's wrong? Are you upset with me? Did I hurt you?" She quickly went up to him and touched his face. There was a mark on his cheek that she'd not noticed before. "You have a scratch."

Tom raised a hand to his face and touched the mark—and her fingers. Realizing that it stung a bit, now that it was being touched, he took her hand and pulled it away, then shook his head. "No. I'm fine. Just...up there," he said, nodding at the ceiling.

Buffy nodded. "Intense, huh? But fun." She grinned. She was still excited about their duel.

Tom frowned. "It was rather reckless of us to duel outside the confines of Hogwarts. And to be caught by Professor Dumbledore..."

"Sophie wasn't overly pleased by what happened to her kitchen either," said Buffy—as if she needed to comment on that. The look on Sophie Fairweather's face was enough to chastise them both.

"No. I mean...we were so caught up in our fight that—"

"We weren't fighting," Buffy cut in.

"That wasn't fighting to you?" Tom asked, his brow raised.

Buffy shook her head. "Not to me. More like... sparring," she said with a grin.

Tom hmm'd. "We didn't even think about our use of underage magic outside of school," he said.

He had thought about it—had wanted to take the chance—but it was really very stupid! What was wrong with him? He knew better than to take chances like that. It was Buffy, of course! This girl caused him to do all sorts of things he shouldn't even consider. Magic was everything to him and here he was risking the possibility of losing it. It was much more than stupid!

Buffy bit her lip. "We're really not allowed to use magic outside of school?" she asked, cutting off his thoughts.

"No, we're not," he said. "Though, I don't suppose the trace charm is working on you...or your wand yet, since you haven't started school. I'm not quite sure how it works."

Buffy shrugged. "Well, I have to practice."

"Professor Dumbledore was quite angry," he said.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Angry?! He didn't seem angry to me. More... surprised. And technically he didn't forbid us from using magic, did he, so..." She shrugged.

"That's true."

Buffy grinned. "Then I think we're all good. I mean, practice makes perfect, they say, right?" she asked—then, not waiting for an answer, she continued. "Whoever they are." Biting her lip, Buffy frowned. "You know, I never know who they are when people say that," she said, looking thoughtful for just a second. Then shrugging, she went on. "Anyway, if he thinks I'm not going to use magic outside of school, he's mad as a hatter."

Tom frowned. "Buffy, it is more what the Ministry thinks and allows than Professor Dumbledore. He's just concerned about the trace being triggered, causing the Ministry to enforce its laws."

Buffy snorted. "Well, it's a silly law," she grumbled as she flopped down on her bed.

~oOo~

Around three in the afternoon, after several hours of study—and a little bit of kissing too—Buffy snapped the book in her lap closed and tossed it aside, then rolled off her bed and stretched. "All right! That's me done studying for the day," she said. "I'm hungry again."

"Again?" asked Tom.

Buffy shrugged. "Yes again! Studying's hungry work."

Tom rolled his dark eyes.

"No comments on my eating habits," she said. "You wanna go over to Diagon Alley and get some food. It's a little late for lunch, but..."

Tom frowned. He was not accustomed to eating out when everything he needed was provided for him, first at Wools and later at Hogwarts. But the option to do so was nice.

"And then we can poke around in some of the shops," she said hopefully. "There's the rest of Knockturn to explore and the other alleys too. Could be fun."

Still frowning, Tom ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

"Hmm. Something Tom Riddle doesn't know," Buffy quipped teasingly. But when he continued to frown, she quickly deduced what was preventing him from wanting to go over to Diagon.

"Oh. Hmm. I don't have any money of my own either, Tom," she said quietly. "But, as you know, Vin and Sophie are very generous. I know they'll give us some money without even batting an eye."

Tom sighed. He knew that they would too, but it made him feel odd accepting it. Seriously uncomfortable.

"Don't you want to go?" she pressed.

Sighing, Tom nodded. "Of course I'd like to, but..."

Buffy shrugged. "Then stop over-thinking it!" she ordered, giving him a stern look. "I'll go talk to Vin and Soph. I promise you they won't mind."

"All right," he relented.

Grinning, Buffy turned and flounced out of the room, her short skirt swishing as she went—causing Tom to groan as he closed his eyes and lay back on her bed. The girl was a terrible flirt, though he still wasn't quite sure if she did it on purpose or if she was just naturally this way. Either way, it was torture.

~oOo~

It wasn't long before Buffy was back in the room, jiggling a pouch of coins for them to spend.

"Here, you take this while I freshen up," she said as she tossed the pouch at him and went into her bathroom, leaving the door open. "I caught Vin and Sophie just in time. They were going up to their rooms to nap before going out tonight."

Tom frowned. He hated the idea of Buffy being left alone all night while he sat miserably alone at Wools. And he hated Mrs Cole's new curfew for him. It was as if she was punishing him for having a someone outside the orphanage. It was unusual. No one else at Wools had any contact with outsiders. No one had friends. Having Buffy on the outside made him feel special. He was already special, of course, but...with Buffy he was extra special! And he was really starting to hate Mrs Cole too—for her part in keeping him from Buffy.

Getting up, he straightened his shirt, then went toward the bathroom.

In the bathroom Buffy had brushed her teeth, Tom realized when he saw her banging her toothbrush on the sink edge. He watched her put it in a cup, then pick up a brush and run it through her hair, her blonde hair shining as she flipped it off her shoulder. After that, she leaned close to the mirror and frowned.

"Gawd, I need some make-up," she said—mostly to herself—as she pinched her cheeks to give them some color.

"You look lovely without it," Tom said from the doorway.

Buffy looked at him in the mirror and made a face. "I'm just not used to not wearing any. I look so...plain. Like a boy. But thanks."

Tom smirked and leaned against the door jam. "You do not look like a boy, even when you wear those ridiculous boy clothes," he said—silently thanking Merlin that she wasn't wearing one of her silly slaying creations today. Thank goodness she only wore those at night when she went out slaying and no one else was around.

And, despite her lack of make up, she looked very much like a girl to him. Thank Merlin!

Grinning, Buffy turned and started toward him. "I guess I'm ready," she said as she approached, getting closer than she needed to. Looking up, she wetted her lips and smiled at him. She liked his dark eyes. And his dark wavy hair. He was so handsome. "You look...lovely as well."

Snorting, the boy straightened away from the door jam and stood his tallest. "Boys are not lovely, Buffy," he said, wondering what people would say if she said things like that at Hogwarts—or if she behaved as she did here when they were alone. His Housemates would crucify him! He'd be a laughing stock—and right now he couldn't be arsed enough to care! Especially when she grinned at him as she was, her green eyes sparkling as she reached up and pushed his hair away from his eyes.

"You are if I say so," she whispered. "And I do say so."

For a moment, she stared up at him. It looked like she might lean up to kiss him, then she took a small step back and ran her hands down his chest.

"You're dangerously handsome, Tom," she said as she heaved a sigh. "And very intoxicating."

He held his breath—he liked the sound of being dangerous—then held out the pouch of coins to her. "Here."

Frowning, she looked down at it, then shook her head. "No, you hold it. I have nowhere to put it."

Frowning back at her, Tom slipped it into a pocket. He was wearing a nice pair of dark trousers—a pair that the sisters had purchased for him on the last trip—and a crisp white button up shirt that was now somewhat wrinkled from lounging on her bed for hours. He'd considered putting on his House tie before leaving Wools, then decided against it, because he knew that Buffy would dress casually. And she was, if a bit indecently as well. He hated that she dressed that way—and love it as well.

Pushing past him, Buffy went and sat in her chair, then grabbed her boots. Combat boots and her school skirt. Such an odd combination, he thought. Studying her skirt, he wondered if she'd altered it. He decided that she definitely had. It appeared shorter than it should be. Not by too much, but it was noticeable—at least to him. But he smiled as he watched her. Somehow she made it all work.

"Okie dokie," she said, standing up. "I'm ready, Freddie."

Tom just stared at her—causing Buffy to roll her eyes and grab his elbow.

"Let's vamoose!" she said, pulling on him. "We don't have that much time."

~oOo~

They'd decided to have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron first—to satisfy the Slayer's apparent starvation, which Tom had continued to tease her about as they'd walked to the wizarding pub. Buffy had tried to explain—multiple times—that she was usually a grazer and that she was accustomed to frequent, but small meals. Or, at the very least, lots and lots of snacks—snacks that were not really possible living here in 1942, so she needed a nice lunch!

Or is it an early dinner? Buffy wondered as they sat down in a shadowy corner of the Leaky and stared at each other for several moments before she pulled her gaze away from his and glanced around the small and dingy room. There were a good amount of people in the pub—some she even recognized from the couple times they'd walked through, making her realize that this was a regular place for many. Sort of like the Bronze, but less...musicy. Gawd, she missed music and dancing—and hanging out with her friends! Tom had been great, but what were Willow and Xander doing?

Sighing, she turned her attention back to where she was and put her elbow on the table—then grimaced at its stickiness. "Ew," she said, lifting her elbow and rubbing at it. "Gross."

Tom chuckled. "Well, elbows do not belong on tables anyway."

Buffy huffed. "All right, Mom!" she grumbled. "What sort of teenager are you anyway?"

Tom snickered, but didn't comment. Instead, he just watched as Buffy pulled out her wand and cast a discrete cleaning charm on the filthy surface of the table, then set it down next to her fork as if it were an eating utensil instead of an instrument of power.

"I envy your wand's lack of trace," he commented as he looked at her wand.

She made a face. "I don't look forward to that, for sure," she said—then grinned and went on. "I'll have to make up for it now, before they're able to punish me."

Tom shook his head and tsk'd at her rebellion. "You are a naughty girl."

"And don't you forget it!" she said with a wink and a smirk.

They continued to make small talk while they waited for their food to be ready—nothing too deep—then, when their food on the table, Buffy dug right in. After wolfing down several bites, she slowed down a bit and brought up what she'd asked of Dumbledore.

"So...um. Dumbledore it going to ask the head guy, Dippet, if I can go to Hogwarts and have a tour over the summer. And maybe get sorted too," she added as she took a bite of her steak and kidney pie.

Tom's eyes widened. "Oh. Really?"

Buffy nodded. "Yes. Wouldn't that be great?" she asked.

Tom hmm'd, then looked down at his food and frowned at the fork in his hand. Suddenly, he was no longer hungry—which, in summer, was quite rare.

Watching him, Buffy pushed their food aside and reached for his hands. With one hand she held his still while she took his fork and poked it into his meal, then joined their hands.

"Tom," she said, squeezing his fingers—then shaking them and speaking louder when he didn't respond. "Tom!"

He looked up, his dark eyes full of anxiety.

"You're really concerned about my House," she said.

He nodded. "As I've said, it matters much more than you think, Buffy," he said, trying not to think about all the pure-bloods in Slytherin who would attempt to eat her alive no matter which House she sorted into—and about all the other students who would be vying for her attention and friendship if she was sorted anywhere else! And if he was honest with himself, she could be sorted into any of the Houses—she was brave like a Gryffindor, as hard-working and friendly as a Hufflepuff, intelligent enough to be a Ravenclaw, and ambitious like a Slytherin. Bottom line was that she was determined and that was a trait that all the Houses possessed! Obviously he thought Slytherin was the best and hoped beyond measure that she would end up in his House! But she could go anywhere—and that terrified him!

She sighed. "Yeah, you've said that before. More than once, actually. But..." She shrugged. "I won't let it affect our friendship. I won't!"

Snorting, Tom pulled his hand from hers and sat up rigidly. "Maybe you won't, but our Houses, if you do end up elsewhere, won't make any sort of inter-House friendship easy on us. They just... won't!" he insisted.

Her empty hands still resting on the table where he'd abandoned them, Buffy studied his face, then bit her lip. "Are you telling me that...you'll end our friendship if I don't get sorted into your House?" she asked pointblank. He hadn't actually said that yet, but it felt as if that was the case every time the subject came up.

Tom stared at her. She looked both angry and hurt at the same time—and he didn't blame her a bit. The latter showed in her shining green eyes—she looked close to tears that she was struggling to hold back. And the former was obvious as she slowly retracted her hands and gripped the edge of the table firmly—so firmly, in fact, that he could see her fingernails digging into the wood. It was clear to him that she was really and truly as upset about this as he was. The only difference was that he was causing her distress—and he knew he had to stop.

Sighing, he shook his head. "Of course not," he said quietly—then moved to sit beside her, so that he could pry her vise-like grip from the table and hold her hands again. "I'm just saying that it wouldn't be easy."

Buffy sighed. "My life never is, Tom," she whispered.

"No, I don't suppose it is," he said.

"And neither is yours, I'd imagine."

Tom shook his head. "No, it isn't."

Buffy looked up at him and gazed into his eyes. "Promise me, Tom. Promise me that, no matter which House I'm sorted into, you'll still be my friend."

Tom didn't hesitate. "I promise, Buffy," he said solemnly, squeezing her hands.

"Hmm. It seems Tom Riddle has gone soft," came a voice from nearby—which caused both Tom and Buffy to look up to see who was listening to them.

The pair stared at the blond-haired boy with surprise. They'd been so engaged in each other that they'd failed to remember that they were in a busy establishment—surrounded by other witches and wizards—or notice that someone had approached their table. Quickly, they both masked their surprise.

"Malfoy," Tom said, addressing the wizard in question with a stiff nod. He tried to let go of Buffy's hands, but she held on tight—almost painfully so—and gave him a don't you dare sort of look.

"Riddle," said Abraxas, his eyes going from Tom's face to his hands that were joined with the girl's...to her face. "Buffy."

Tom gnashed his teeth at the informal greeting, but said nothing.

Buffy blinked up at the blond boy and nodded. "Hey, Brax," she said flippantly. "You again, huh? Seems like every time I visit Diagon, here you are." She tilted her head slightly and smirked at the blond. "You following me?"

If he weren't so annoyed—or had a reputation to protect—Tom would have laughed. Buffy had used the same line on him, but the look on Malfoy's face was absolutely priceless. The boy's gray eyes had narrowed into slits of frustration.

"Of course not!" he said tersely, thoroughly irritated by the nickname Buffy had used.

Tom's annoyance faded somewhat—enough to stay calm.

"Why would you think that?" Abraxas asked, exasperated.

Buffy hmm'd. "It's just interesting, is all. I've only been here...well, less than a handful of times and you keep popping up. It's like...you live here or something."

"I do not live here," the blond boy all but sputtered.

Buffy shrugged. "Okay. So...you don't live here," she said. "Is Honorine needing more dresses then?"

Abraxas blinked, surprised that she'd remembered his sister's name. But then he remembered that the strange American girl seemed to find humor in intentionally misnaming people, so his surprise should come in the fact that she hadn't purposefully called Honorine something else.

"My sister is, in fact, having another fitting," he said. "Apparently the last one did not go quite so well and the dress was unwearable."

Buffy smirked. She was not at all surprised to hear that, considering how his sister behaved toward her the first time they'd met. "And you just what...tag along every time she needs a new dress? How sweet," Buffy chirped. "Such a nice big brother."

Abraxas shook his head. "I do not just tag along," he said snappishly. "I'm here to...never mind why I'm here." His eyes shifted to his Housemate. "I can see that I'm interrupting your little...I'm not sure what this is."

Tom shook his head. "Not at all, Malfoy. We've almost finished our meal, but you are welcome to join us, if you'd like," he offered—if only to be polite—and received a not so gentle kick from Buffy for his effort. Hiding his wince of pain, Tom avoided glaring at her and raised a hand to the seat across from them that he'd just vacated.

Abraxas glanced at the empty chair, then at Tom and Buffy—then gave a clipped nod and sat down. "Thank you," he said, his eyes going around the pub, hoping to catch the eye of someone who could bring him a drink. "To be honest, Mother requested that I come along to keep an eye on the two younger ones. I'd suggested a house-elf, but Father ordered me to go with them. He has Hogwarts business to attend to, you see, and didn't want the children left at the Manor with just the elves. I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm exhausted. Mother and my siblings are quite taxing."

Buffy's brow raised. "You have other siblings?"

Grimacing a bit, Abraxas nodded. "The twins are eleven."

Buffy brightened. "Oh! Then they'll be starting at Hogwarts this year, just like me," she said delightedly. "I can't wait to meet them. Are they here with you? Maybe I can meet them now."

"Thankfully no! My sister's fitting went smoothly this time and Mother has taken them all home. I was just behind them on my way to the Floo when I saw the two of you looking very cozy."

Buffy snorted indelicately—and didn't miss Tom's clenched jaw.

Sighing, the blond boy glanced around the pub and frowned, then looked back at Tom and Buffy. "The service here is dreadful. You would think that barman would know better than to ignore a Malfoy," he said. "He should have approached me immediately. It's such a disgrace. I will have to let Father know."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We ordered at the bar, Braxy," she said. "You might have to actually get up and go place an order for yourself."

Abraxas scoffed. "How common," he said—then noticed a woman wiping down a table and snapped his fingers at her.

Glaring at the boy, Buffy got up and held out her hand to the obnoxiously snobby boy—snapping her fingers at him! "Give me some money, Malfoy!" she demanded. "I'll go get your damned drink."

Abraxas stared up at her, then pulled out a Galleon and pushed it into her hand. "Bossy bint," he grumbled.

Staring at it, Buffy smirked. "Cool. Apparently Malfoy's buying the next round. What do you want Tom?" she asked with complete innocence. "Hey, do you think they'd sell me beer?"

Both Tom and Abraxas glanced at each other then shrugged.

Buffy shrugged too, then swished off to see what she could order with Abraxas' gold. She desperately wanted an ice cold Coke, but knew that was impossible.

"She's an odd girl," Abraxas said when Buffy was out of hearing range—or so he thought.

Tom snorted. "Better watch what you say about Buffy," he warned.

"Why? Because you fancy her?" the blond asked.

Tom raised a brow. "You know better than to ask something like that, don't you Malfoy?"

Abraxas looked down. "She is odd though...isn't she?" he hedged.

Tom stared at him. "More so than you know," he admitted—then turned to gaze toward Buffy—who stood up at the bar ordering for them. She was standing up on tiptoe, leaning forward, clearly giving it all that she had. He could see in the bartender's eyes that she was going to bring back drinks she had no business ordering. Never mind the fact that she was showing him and Abraxas—and everyone else in the pub—everything that her altered skirt failed to hide now that she was leaning over the bar-top, her skirt riding higher than was decent.

"And you're worried she won't be sorted into our House?" Abraxas asked, his eyes widening at the display at the bar.

Tom ground his teeth. "Either you are much more intuitive than I generally give you credit for or...you were stood there longer than we were aware."

Abraxas shrugged. "I suppose that's for me to know."

Tom snorted. "I won't deny that I want her in Slytherin," he said. "But..."

"You don't think she will be?"

Tom narrowed his eyes at his Housemate. "What I think is not your concern, Malfoy!" he snapped.

Abraxas shrugged. "Fine. Keep your secrets," he drawled, looking bored. "But it wouldn't be the end of the world, Riddle. There have been other...inter-House matches."

Tom's brows raised "Have there?"

"A few," said Abraxas, shrugging again. "It isn't common, but also not unheard of. Frowned upon, of course, but...it does occur. There are worse things that could happen."

Tom frowned. He knew what those worse things could be—and planned not to bring them up.

Smiling, Buffy was returning with three beers in hand. Tom had never had a beer before and was interested—even though he'd heard tales of loss of control while under the influence.

"Okay then, beer!" Buffy said as she placed their drinks on the table and sat down again. "I have it on good authority that it's a horribly bad beverage, but..."

"And who's authority would that be?" asked Abraxas.

"Oh. My mother. She hated it when my dad drank beer. Not that he drank excessively," she said as she picked up her glass and took a sip. "Hmm. Not horrible, in my opinion. I'll have to argue with mom. Next time I see her." She frowned—as that could be never again!

Both Tom and Abraxas picked up their glasses and took an experimental taste of the drink.

"We have wine with dinner at the Manor," Abraxas informed them. "This is...different." He made a face. "I can't say that I like it."

Tom nodded. He'd not had anything but water and tea—and pumpkin juice at Hogwarts—and a little bit of wine at the sisters' house. "Or dislike it," he contradicted as he took another sample.

Abraxas shrugged. "Or dislike it," he agreed.

After several minutes of sipping, the barman approached their table. "Would anyone like anything else?" he asked.

At first, Abraxas huffed—then he waved a hand as if to say, 'go on, order whatever you would like.'

Buffy grinned and said, "I think we're good. Thank you."

When the barman was gone, Abraxas huffed again. "Of course he appears after we already have drinks," he grumbled.

Buffy burst out laughing. "Oh yes, because he's only here to serve you in this hopping pub full of patrons," she teased.

Abraxas huffed again. "I am accustomed to being waited upon," he said.

Buffy laughed again. "Aren't you just the hoity-toity one! Some of us don't have servants at our every beck and call," she said, her eyes going to Tom—who looked somewhat worried.

Abraxas, however, didn't give his Housemate even the slightest glance. Instead, he turned his eyes on Buffy and studied her.

"But...you must have some help at home," he said. He noticed that she seemed to have money to spend and that her clothing had improved—wasn't something from one of the secondhand shops, at least. Clearly her family had taken her shopping—even if she was wearing a Hogwarts skirt in the summer. Her blouse though was nice—if somewhat risqué—but the American girl somehow managed to pull it off.

Buffy shook her head. "Nope. Not even one servant. I cook and clean just like a normal person."

Abraxas shuddered. "Argh. That's...servants' stuff. I can't imagine that," he said. "Mother has several servants and house-elves just to manage the children."

"I'm not sure why anyone needs servants when they have magic," Buffy said. "I mean, we managed just fine in my house without magic. Of course, it's just me and mom, for the most part...since mom and dad split."

"Buffy," Tom said, squeezing her hand—but it was too late. Malfoy wasn't a genius, but he wasn't a complete idiot either.

"You're... Muggleborn?!" Abraxas Malfoy immediately deduced, his lips pulled back as if it were a disgusting thing.

At this point Buffy glanced at Tom, realizing she'd just outted herself.

"Oh. Um. Yes?" she said, biting her lip. "I mean, technically...yeah. Mom and Dad are Muggles, so...yeah."

Abraxas looked from the girl to Tom, clearly confused. "You knew that?"

Tom nodded. "I do," he said.

"She can't go into Slytherin," said Abraxas, shaking his head. "She would be eaten alive."

"Hey! I can go into the green one!" Buffy snapped, sitting up straight. "Or the red one or the yellow one or the blue one. I can go wherever that old hat puts me! And I'd like to see any of anyone eat me alive! You've all got another thing coming if you think that'll happen!"

Abraxas stared at the American girl, flabbergasted by her nonchalance—and vehemence. She had no idea what she was talking about—and Tom Riddle was delusional if he thought there wasn't going to be trouble with this Buffy Summers girl.

~oOo~

So there you have it...another chapter to my funny little tale! Show me the love and I MIGHT post on my next day off! Lol.

Special thanks to Sharie (for commenting and encouraging every step of the way)...to "guest" (whoever you are)...and to chao-hellsing (for reading and for the catch-up comments)!