Buffy Crossover Fic: An American Slayer in Northern England Prologue and Part One
Title: An American Slayer in Northern England
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: Buffy and Angel and all the rest belong to the almighty Joss Whedon, while the Hogwarts gang belong to JK Rowling.
Summary: Buffy's actually a witch and it's about time the Wizarding world caught on to muggle magics.
Timeline: Set primarily in HP book six(ish) and BtVS AU season three.
Notes: It is finally complete. Thank the Powers that Be. I was originally going to revise this, but I think I will just let it go. Hopefully people will enjoy this. I'm extending my apologies to those who are about to be disappointed by my getting around Buffy telling the Scoobies. I have also never been to a British mall so I don't know how late or early they close in general but if it bothers you pretend that's it's a holiday or something. Kudos to those who get the Seinfeld reference.
Feedback: Leave a review of course, but if you'd rather email me directly the address is scwlc@yahoo.ca
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Los Angeles - Summer 1991
"Joyce look!" Hank Summers said excitedly to his wife. "My old boarding school has accepted Buffy as a student. I can't wait to take her to England and get her school supplies-"
Joyce's eyes widened as she heard her happy husband. "Give me that! You weren't going to even consult me on sending our daughter to a school in a foreign country?" she interrupted him.
Frowning slightly the man replied, "Joyce, I just want Buffy to have the very best education that's possible."
"So there isn't a school in the US that could possibly educate her well enough? A school in LA say?" Joyce asked, annoyed. There was also something wrong with this letter of acceptance. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.
There was a moment of silence, then Hank said to her, "So you don't see . . . I mean, it's not . . ." He trailed off helplessly while Joyce brandished the letter.
"No," she told him flatly.
A small blonde child came thumping down the stairs, dragging a stuffed pig after her. "Mom? Daddy? What's going on?"
"Nothing Pumpkin," Hank said to his girl. "Listen sweetie, Daddy wants to talk to you about something-"
Joyce shot a glare at him. "Hank, we're not going to . . ." she jerked a significant head at the letter in her hand. He shook his head and led his ten-year-old daughter out to the porch.
"You're unbelievable Joyce, a muggle through and through," he muttered under his breath before he began to tell his daughter about a wonderful world she was a part of.
Staring after her daughter and husband for a moment, Joyce shook her head and dropped the letter in the trash. The letterhead, "Hogwarts School of . . ." the rest was obscured by the trash. She slammed the lid back down and went back to making dinner.
***
Los Angeles - Spring 1995
"Daddy I can't keep this up. I know you want me to be good at this stuff, but I can't take this split tutoring in being a witch and going to high school!" Buffy cried to her father.
Hank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The separation was rapidly escalating into a divorce fight, and even though he wanted to stay with his daughter Joyce's unbelievable muggleness was pulling them apart. She was simply unable to believe even the most blatant displays of magic and every year, when the letter from Hogwarts arrived it was as though she couldn't even see the words "Witchcraft and Wizardry." He pulled his attention back to his daughter. "Honey, you never minded before." He tried to be reasonable.
Her eyes filling with tears she pressed her lips together and looked away. "I just can't take the stress. Even if I'm never licensed to do magic on my own I just can't do this. And since I'm not going to get to go to a real magic school I might as well hang up my wand." Buffy hated to do this. The fact was that being the Slayer and being normal and being a witch all at the same time weren't compatible. Worse, even though her father was a respected wizard businessman in the magical community he, and apparently the entire wizarding community, couldn't accept the world of demons and vampires the she lived in as the Slayer. They believed in it as little as most normal people believed in magic of any kind.
There was a moment of silence, the man remembering his daughter locked away in a muggle mental institution because of a nervous breakdown. His lips tightened as he considered the thought that he might have caused it. The girl looking at her father and wishing there was a way to prove to him that there was more to the non-muggle world than his magic. Finally he let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll stop giving you the magic home schooling. You need to remember though-"
"I know. No magic without a licensed witch or wizard or I'll never be able to do magic again." Buffy blinked away tears. It was the one thing other than slaying that she felt really herself when doing it. But she couldn't do all three lives and this was the least problem to drop. Father and daughter shared a moment before Hank stood and said, "Why don't we go for some ice cream?"
Buffy smiled and hugged him before skipping into the house and telling her mother. Hank stayed on the front porch a moment longer wondering if he was doing the right thing, especially given Voldemort's return in England. Then he shook off his melancholy and followed his daughter.
************
Sunnydale - Winter 1998
Buffy and Angel made their way to the ship, Angel carrying the box on his shoulder as they walked arm in arm. When they reached the gangplank Angel set the box down. "I should go the rest of the way alone." He tried not to look as depressed as he felt. It would be easier if they parted ways here. She was masterfully holding back tears, and Angel was not going to cry in front of her. Buffy was strong, she would still be there when he got back.
"Okay." Buffy said. She could see Angel was busy being strong so that she could be strong too. *Dammit! I hate doing the right thing!*
"But I'll be back. I will." Angel swore to himself he would be back. And he would be there for her even if she had found someone else. His heart twisted inside of him at the thought.
Her voice reflected every bit of the heartbreak she felt as she asked, "When? Six months, a year? You don't know how long it's gonna take or if we'll even..." Buffy just couldn't say it. He had to survive to come back to her. He had to. She looked at the ground with the unshed tears pricking her eyes.
"Hey. . ." Angel reached forward to get her to meet his eyes. "If we'll even what?" Angel thought he had a pretty good idea of what she was going to say. Her answer surprised him.
"Well, if you haven't noticed, someone pretty much always wants us dead." Buffy was not going to cry. He had always said he was proud of her for being strong, and she was not going to let him see her break down.
His denial was immediate. "Don't say that. We'll be fine." Just the thought that she would be here with no one to protect her back made him feel sick.
Buffy tried to find a way to make him see reason, to stay, even though she knew it wasn't reasonable, "We don't know that."
"We can't know, Buffy. Nobody can. That's just the deal." He paused for a moment. Drinking in the sight and scent of her. "I have something for you. For your birthday. I. . . I was gonna give it to you earlier, but . . . " he trailed off and simply held out the ring. If she agreed to wear it they would be promised to one another. If she refused . . . Angel held his figurative breath.
"It's beautiful." Buffy said. She had seen that design somewhere before. Where?
"My people -- before I was changed -- they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty . . . and the heart . . . Well, you know . . ." the moment was bittersweet. She was promising herself to him just as he was about to leave for God only knew how long. He wanted to tell her it was a betrothal ring, but it was a little unfair right before he left. "Wear it with the heart pointing towards you. It means you belong to somebody. Like this." He showed her his own ring on his finger. She touched his hand, leaned over and kissed the ring. "Put it on." He took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger.
"I don't wanna do this," Buffy said with a sob. She felt like someone was reaching into her chest pulling out her heart and stomping on it. Okay, not so poetic, but it was accurate.
Angel understood her pain and was resisting the urge to break down in tears himself. He settled for trying to let his voice and touch let her know how much he wanted to stay. "Me either."
"So don't go," she pleaded. He just looked at her as they leaned closer together, and let his eyes close as they kissed. For a moment the world fell away and he relaxed into the feelings her closeness inspired, the scent of her rising arousal and the way she fit so perfectly against him.
"Buffy . . . I . . ." Angel forced the words past his lips. "I love you." He was rewarded with a brilliant smile.
"I love you too," she whispered, struggling to hold in a sob. "You'd better get on that ship before I drag you home." He nodded, kissed her briefly once more than strode toward the ship. "Good-" she started to say.
He turned back. "I won't say goodbye because it'll sound final. I am coming back to you. I promise." Then he turned and vanished into the shadows on the boat. Buffy waited while the men finished loading the ship up, stayed as they cast off and watched until it had vanished from view in the dawn light. Then she slowly turned and made her way back to the car where Jenny Calendar had patiently waited until she was ready to leave.
Buffy looked at the ring on her finger and whispered, "You promised."
***
Sunnydale - Spring 1998
"Buffy Anne Summers!" Joyce shouted, staring in a fury at the Polaroid in her hand.
The blonde teenager came running down the stairs. "What is it Mom?"
One eyebrow raised in a position that would make Mr. Spock proud, Joyce held the photo out and said, "Can you tell me why I found this picture on the floor of your room?"
"Huh?" said Buffy before she saw its contents. "Mom I can explain-"
Amused in spite of her anger, she replied, "I can't wait to hear this."
"Well you see I was on the beach and these guys attacked me," Buffy said hurriedly her eyes flickering back and forth as she concentrated on her narrative. "So I fell into this really slimy bunch of seaweed and stuff and I just couldn't wear my shirt home. Angel came along and rescued me from those guys and lent me his shirt so I'd have something to wear until I changed." Buffy looked at her mother with wide, innocent eyes and waited for a verdict.
"So why is there a picture that looks like you're wearing nothing but that shirt, an older man wearing no shirt, and the two of you kissing?" Her voice and expression hardened. "Kissing, of course, being the best I can do at the moment since what you two actually seem to be doing in this picture is not something a mother wants to see her daughter doing with an older, handsome experienced man." Joyce's eyebrow was back up again and Buffy winced, knowing that it was a very bad sign when the eyebrow couldn't come back down.
She still tried to wriggle out. "Well I'm gonna kill Willow, 'cause it's all her fault," Buffy told her mother. Joyce did not look convinced. "You see, she had this new camera and wanted to try it out and stuff. So when she yelled 'Cheese!' Angel turned around and tripped and stuff and that's how we wound up on the bed." Buffy was proud that she had even managed to tell some of the truth. Angel *had* tripped and fallen on top of her.
The female parental unit was less impressed. "So he tripped and his lips landed on top of yours, one hand landed under your behind and the other on your breasts? Am I right?" Joyce inquired. Buffy flushed but said nothing. "I'm going to ask your father if that school he was so eager to send you to will still accept you." Joyce watched with some satisfaction as Buffy's mouth dropped open and stayed that way. "Yes, the boarding school in England."
"But . . . Angel isn't even here anymore. He had to leave and he hasn't come back yet!" Buffy said, frantically.
Snorting, her mother replied, "And if you think that's going to convince me to let you stay here where you're involved with a man who is far too old for you, you are sadly mistaken." She turned away and said, "You'd better start packing because even if you aren't accepted into that school I'm still going to send you to the farthest boarding school I can manage to keep you away from Angel." Then Joyce marched up the stairs.
*****************************
Things had moved quickly after that. Buffy had barely had time to tell her friends, Giles, help arrange for Kendra to come and replace her and get packed before her father, in transports of joy, had swooped in and dragged her off to England. She had wanted to tell them about the wizarding world, but the fact was that it was essentially illegal to tell anyone not directly involved, either a family member or in a situation that required special dispensation. Since no one believed in the efficacy of so-called muggle magic still and her friends and Watcher weren't family she couldn't tell them without bringing down a squad of aurors to wipe their memories. After all, Giles and Willow were too determined for their own good when it came to investigating supernatural phenomena and Buffy deemed it too much of a risk to tell them.
Now Buffy nervously paced around the inside of the wand shop. She had lost her original wand one day when she was forced to use it to stake a vampire. It hadn't taken the abuse well and Buffy had been forced to ask her father for a new one. He had told her they would get her new one at some wand store in Diagon Alley. It was when Buffy had been talking to Kendra that she had an idea.
"Here," she had said, handing her sister slayer a bracelet. "It's a friendship bracelet. I used a bit of my hair in it. I exchanged a few of these with friends of mine." Buffy handed her the colourful band and was surprised to see a small smile on the other girl's face.
The Jamaican abruptly reached up and plucked a few hairs from her own head. "Den perhaps you will turn dese into another bracelet for yourself." She smiled back. "I would make you one but I do not know how."
Buffy had grinned back and promised she would send Kendra a book on the art of making friendship bracelets and would make herself one with the hairs she had been given. She silently decided to also send a few to the wand- maker to see if they could be used in her own wand.
So there she stood, anxiously waiting to see if Kendra's hair had been made into a wand or not. "Well?" she called, finally getting too antsy to wait quietly any longer. She wished Willow or Xander were there to keep her spirits up in the creepy little shop. Unfortunately Xander was completely magicless and Willow, although very talented in wiccan-style witchery, (at least according to Jenny Calendar who was teaching her) hadn't even a spark of the kind of magic that set the wizarding world apart. It was strange how the two magics were invisible to one another in active form but the properties of magical herbs and the hairs, toenails and whatever else from magical creatures were effective with both types of magic. Even if Giles snickered at the very notion of thestrals.
The wizened old man finally reappeared and said, "This was such unusual hair. Do you have any more? It's an excellent wand material and even if this does not suit you, which I cannot guarantee that it will, it will definitely sell to someone it conducts magical power so well."
Buffy chuckled slightly and said, "Sorry, that source is all tapped." Then she held out her hand. "Can I try it now?" He handed it to her and was as startled as Hank when Buffy gently waved the wand. A gentle wind sprang up and the tiny shop suddenly seemed dark to the two men, but it was comforting and wild at the same time. Buffy laughed in delight as a feeling of protectedness settled into every nook and cranny of the place.
Ollivander stared at the young girl. He had never been so taken by surprise by a wand's owner. Gradually the feelings of both wildness and warmth faded and all that was left was a quiet feeling of protective strength. "Well." He took a breath. "It seems you were right. This was an unusual wand in several ways, but it would be foolish of me to try to give that wand to anyone else." He watched them go. The wand had been made up of sacred oak, rowan, ash and, for whatever bizarre reason, palm. It was the first time he had seen a wand that demanded more than one wood and he had never seen such a curious magical core. He shrugged and went back to work, watching with interest as his door seemed to take a delight in shocking visitors to his shop with static electricity throughout the day, but only select alumni of Slytherin House that had associations with Voldemort.
Buffy eagerly spent the day collecting her books, robes, owl, magic supplies and exploring Diagon Alley. Hank started in surprise when, the next day, Buffy told him she wanted to go shopping for school supplies. "We just spent yesterday buying your supplies. What else do you need?" he demanded.
Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "For one thing I need binders and lined paper for taking notes and stuff, pens, pencils-"
"You know quills and parchment will be provided at the school," Hank told his daughter. She just looked at him as though he had grown a second head. So, he sighed and took her to one of London's malls. Buffy squealed with delight as she took in all the stylish clothing on the racks and the new high-heeled chunky boots she had determined, with much research, fit within the parameters of the school's uniform. "I thought we were getting *school* supplies, not more shoes," Hank said to Buffy.
A moment of silence followed by another look, this time as though he had turned into a particularly stupid houseplant. "Dad. I need to have good clothes for when I'm not in class and stuff. I need to look my best. Who knows what the other kids think is cool! I need to at least look good on my first day and," she added as he opened his mouth, "If you even try to tell me none of the kids there care about wearing anything but their uniforms I'm going to laugh like I was possessed by a hyena."
He blinked, raised a hand and opened his mouth to object to the simile, closed and lowered, opened and raised again, then gave up and followed her into a clothing store. Finally she bought the school things she wanted and an exhausted Hank drove a still vibrating Buffy home. "I don't know if I can move," he groaned.
"Why aren't they open any later?" Buffy grumbled. "Any decent mall should be open until at least eight."
Having decided that arguing with Buffy was useless he just watched as she puttered around the hotel room, fussing with the new laptop her mother had bought her in a fit of guilt. Finally he had to ask, "Why are you bringing that? You know that technology doesn't work on the Hogwarts grounds."
Surprisingly she grinned. "I think I may have a way around that," she told him, refusing to say any more.
The next day they were on the train to Hogwarts. It was eerily empty in Hank's opinion, but they had to go early so that the professors could determine what year they should put Buffy into. It had also been decided that she would be sorted separately from the first years since there was no need to make her suffer the stigma of being sorted with them.
On arriving the first order of business was to get Buffy sorted so that she could get herself settled into her house. They were greeted at the door by an old man with an enormous white beard, long white hair, and what seemed to be a perpetually amused look on his face. It turned out he was the headmaster, ("Principal," Hank whispered to Buffy who nodded gratefully) Dumbledore. "I see you've quite a muggle turn of mind the both of you," he said with a smile. "I've been looking forward to meeting you for a very long time Miss Summers."
"Really," Buffy said. "The last time I heard that . . ." She trailed off as the two men looked at her. "You know what? Nevermind." She suppressed all thoughts of both Giles and Angel firmly. It would just make her homesickness and Angelsickness worse. She pondered the word Angelsickness while her father and Dumbledore talked about that stupid wizard sport quidditch. She liked flying well enough. Actually, she adored it and terrified her father every time she was on a broom that she was going to break her neck with the stunts she did. But to play a game where there were bowling balls flying around trying to knock you off your broom? Stupid.
Of course, thoughts of stupid risks just brought her mind back to one time when Angel had yelled at her for taking stupid risks when patrolling as though it was her fault Xander and Willow had taken all her stakes before she left the library. Then he had hugged her and followed this with making out on top of the Henderson crypt. Buffy blinked back tears as she thought of how much danger he was in and how she couldn't help him. Then Dumbledore said, "Bubble-Yum," to a column in the wall and it opened to show a staircase spiralling up.
"So how does this sorting thing work?" Buffy asked once she was settled into a chair opposite Dumbledore's desk.
The old man stood and walked over to a shelf where a grimy, old, torn and threadbare hat sat crumpled. "All you must do is place the hat on you head and then it will tell us which house you belong in."
"That's it?" Buffy asked eyeing the hat dubiously.
"Yes."
Dumbledore approached her and began to lower the hat down. It settled over her head and a moment later Buffy heard it speak to her telepathically. *Telepathy. Telepathically. It's really quite interesting how the muggles have come up with words for things that we take for granted but have no words for. And . . . Oh my. I've never seen anything like this. You're a Slayer. What's . . . Well, this has been interesting but I would advise you not to mention your Calling to anyone just yet. The Wizarding world knows as little about that magic as the Muggle world at large. Not even Dumbledore who's really quite impressive for a human.*
Buffy, under the hat, raised an eyebrow and silently asked, *What I am is all fine and dandy, but aren't you supposed to tell people which clique I'm being sorted into?*
*Clique? I suppose you're right, but it's what I was created to do. Anyhow, there's only one place in this school for you, and although I suspect you would be happier to be placed in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff you wouldn't belong, so . . . *
"Gryffindor!"
Dumbledore promptly took the hat off her head. "Talkative little beastie isn't he?" Buffy commented as she watched the hat be laid back on the shelf. It stuck its tongue out at her and she responded in kind. Then frowned trying to work out just where the hat had gotten a tongue or a mouth.
Chuckling the headmaster responded, "You probably aren't the first to think so." He then explained Buffy's test schedule and called for Professor McGonagall to take Buffy to the Gryffindor tower. When she arrived Buffy turned to see a strict-looking woman in a black robe. "Ah! Minerva. I would like to introduce you to Buffy Summers. She'll be with Gryffindor, I'm not certain how many years. We'll determine that after we see how she does on her tests. Miss Summers, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall the transfiguration teacher and the head of Gryffindor house."
They stood and Hank turned to Buffy. "I'll see you this Christmas Buffy." He smiled at her and then pulled her into a hug. "Be good. Don't burn any school buildings down."
The look on Buffy's face was a competition of sour and sadness. "Thanks a lot Dad," she said, her naturally ironic temperament coming to the fore. "Goodbye."
Her father vanished down the hall in one direction and McGonagall took her down another hallway. She silently led Buffy up some stairs to a portrait. "Ragamuffin," she said, and the lady in the portrait smiled.
"I haven't seen this one before. Where are you from dear?" she asked.
Buffy smiled back. "California. I've been home schooled in witchcraft until now."
"Well I hope you have a good time this year lovey." Then the portrait swung back to reveal a comfortable room.
Buffy pulled her suitcase into the room after her and looked at McGonagall expectantly. "So now what?"
The woman raised an eyebrow but didn't say the reprimand on the tip of her tongue. Instead she pointed to a set of stairs on the other side of the room. "Up those stairs is the girls' dormitory, the other set leads to the boys. You will not go into the boys dormitory and I expect to not find any boys in the girls'." She sent a stern glare at Buffy. "Any infractions will be punished and points will be removed from Gryffindor. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am," Buffy said and saluted. McGonagall almost smiled at the impertinence. "Um . . . So can I take any bed up there or are they like . . . designated or something?"
This time the professor did smile. "You may take whichever bed you wish. I will leave you here to get settled. Supper will be at six in the main hall. If you get lost, just ask any of the paintings for directions." With that, McGonagall vanished through the door leaving Buffy alone in the tower. She sighed and hauled her luggage up the stairs. She had already dropped her owl Newman off in the owlery so all she really had to do was unpack. On reaching the dormitory she went straight to the window and was delighted to see that it was large enough for her to climb through, opened over a rooftop not too far below, and that there was an easy route from the roof to the ground and back up again. For the Slayer anyways. Or maybe a vampire.
The thought of a vampire sobered her immediately. Hunting was going to be difficult here, especially with that forbidden forest nearby. Buffy could feel the power emanating from it and resisted the urge to go investigate. It also made her think of Angel and wonder what he was doing, if he was alright and if he really was going to come home to see her. Buffy looked sadly at the ring on her finger. She had talked to Willow about it and found out it was like a wedding ring. She looked out the window again and whispered to the wind, "Be safe."
**********************
Angel was grouching around in Yorkshire, genuinely cranky his route back to Sunnydale had been detoured there. It wasn't that he had anything against Yorkshire in particular, but he was in a hurry to get back to Sunnydale and he didn't want to be slouching around in England unless Buffy was with him. As he turned a corner he nearly ran headlong into a group of men wearing robes and bizarre masks. "Sorry," he muttered trying to go around them.
Instead of moving out of his way the group shifted to block his path. "Well, how interesting. A muggle all alone at night," said one.
Eyes narrowed Angel replied, "I don't know what a 'muggle' is but it sounds like an insult." He pulled himself to his full height and drew on centuries of practice at looking menacing and continued. "I'll ignore the comment if you get out of my way." He lowered his head slightly and smiled nastily.
While some suddenly looked nervous, to his satisfaction, the others didn't seem impressed. Interestingly he couldn't scent even a bit of fear or apprehension on their parts. "You think you can threaten us?" A chuckle rippled around the group and Angel felt a slight chill. "Muggle."
His temper firmly reined in Angel began to push his way through the men. He had no warning as one shouted "Crucio!" and pain enveloped his world. His last thought before he fell unconscious was of Buffy and the hope that she would be alright.
Miles away Buffy, asleep in her dorm room, woke with a scream. She sat up shuddering and tried to convince herself it was only a dream. She almost managed.
******************
The next morning Buffy felt exhausted from lack of sleep but put it aside. She had to concentrate on her placement tests. She'd already chosen her classes, but there were most likely things she would have to make up and who knew whether or not she'd remember everything in a test. Luckily her first test was a simple flying test by the flying instructor Mrs. Hooch to be certain Buffy's skills on a broom were up to par. Buffy did as she was asked and finished off her sedate (by her admittedly daredevil's standards) flight by doing a loop. The teacher yelled at her when she came back down but didn't give her detention or anything. Buffy passed that one with flying colours and went to her next exam with somewhat more confidence.
The charms professor was a fluttery man but his test was simply a brief oral quiz about which charms and hexes were which and when to use them. Then he had a practical which he started by asking her to levitate a few objects then had her cast a few charms. When she finished she felt, if not confident, more like she wasn't going to flunk all the tests.
Potions came next and Buffy bounced into the dungeon cheerfully. It was one of her favourite subjects. You got to mix all these ingredients together and then when you drank or spread it something cool would happen. Even when you screwed up you got to see explosions and stuff. She settled into her seat and waited for the Professor to arrive. It didn't take him long and Buffy was immediately unimpressed. Oh she would have to be cautious around him to avoid crummy marks no doubt, but the man was like a bad Master impersonator or something. He was trying so hard to be scary that she couldn't help but think of everything she'd ever seen that was scarier in comparison. "Miss Summers."
She glanced at her test schedule. "Professor Snape." She stood and smiled. "So what are we doing first?"
Looking almost surprised he replied, "I assume you see the ingredients laid out? Make a liquid fire potion, we'll test it in the brazier when you're done. I expect it to be flawless." He turned away and stalked toward the front of the room.
"Do you want the Uisge Teine potion, Ba'ar Mayim solution or the Flammare potion?" she asked him. He stopped dead and turned to her.
"You've made an Uisge Teine potion before?" he asked. "Then you should know that it requires both a burning sprig of heather and pine sap that has been let simmer for a day and a night." His smirk irritated her as he clearly waited for her response.
Buffy shrugged noncommittally, "True enough, if you need the full spectacular effect of fire in a bottle but you don't need those to make it work." She raised her eyes to meet his. "If all you want is a liquid that will set things on fire, all you need is the rest of the potion."
"You require olive oil and water from the Dead Sea to make Ba'ar Mayim," he said, his gaze never wavering.
Buffy grinned. "Substitutions can sometimes work pretty well. All you need is tap water and salt from the Dead Sea to make up for the water part and olive oil can be gotten from the kitchen." She shrugged and added, "Or I could just transfigure a glass of water into olive oil."
Snape seemed almost about to smile back, then he pointed at the cauldron in front of her and said, "Flammare potion."
Fixing up the potion quickly Buffy reflected on her good fortune. As a slayer, she had determined early on that liquid fire potions could be very useful to her and had built up a minor lexicon of such potions for use on vampires. They would be better than holy water for emergencies and had wished she had some when setting the gym on fire in LA. Now that she was going to be licensed after all, Buffy felt no compunction about showing off how much she knew about such things. Finishing quickly, she marched over to the brazier and dropped a couple dry twigs into it then watched in satisfaction as they burst into flames as the potion was poured over them.
Her professor nodded then said, "Reasonable. Now a wit-sharpening potion." She opened her mouth and his lips twitched. "Acramens potion," he clarified. Buffy grinned back at him and went to work. Potions was so simple. Follow each step and voila! Instant magic thingy. She finished adding the last ingredient with a flourish then handed it to her professor.
"I'd drink it to test it, but I think we'll be able to tell better if you drink it," she told him mischievously.
At first he glared at her, but the effects of a student who was both good and unafraid of him began to get the better of his humour. It wasn't that Miss Granger was a terrible student but her methodical precision and complete lack of passion for anything save an excellent grade irritated him. In this new Gryffindor he had finally found a student who wasn't unreasoningly terrified of him and showed a genuine flair for his subject rather than the cautious technical excellence of most others. "Perhaps you are right Miss Summers," he finally said. "You appear to have been gifted with far too much wit for your own good."
Two more potions, both times she again challenged his knowledge, and he let her go. He was particularly impressed with her growth potion which she made using an interesting variation he had never heard of. Buffy chuckled when he actually looked stunned at the beautiful roses blossoming in the clay pot. "It's an old family recipe," she told him.
Buffy bounced out of the potions test. Either she was going to get it later for sheer insolence or she'd just made her first friend on the staff. Hoping it was the latter rather than the former, the girl paused. "I have spent way too much time around Giles," she muttered.
After lunch she trotted up to the dorm and finished unpacking. She began to twist and turn the satellite dish around and grumbled at the wires that refused to stay where they were supposed to. Finally she got the signal and moved on to getting her laptop tested and everything else checked. Buffy left the tower for her next exam triumphant at her success of introducing technology to Hogwarts.
Transfiguration sucked big time. It had never been one of Buffy's strong suits. She could manage simple things, changing tweezers to scissors for example, but her mind wavered when she tried more complicated transformations and everything either turned into miniature sculptures of Angel, some that made even her stern-faced professor blush and glare, or into things related in some way to slaying. Buffy finally left with the feeling that the head of her house had given up on her.
Then came history. Buffy went in and Buffy went out again. Everything else was a blank to her. Thank heaven she had decided against taking history.
There was one more exam set before dinner, then four more the day after. The last one of the day was the divination test. Buffy mounted the ladder with some apprehension. She was the Slayer and had all kinds of sixth-sense- y stuff going on in her head, but it might be totally invisible to this Professor Trelawney. One hour later Buffy left and headed straight for dinner. She'd decided within minutes that the woman was a crackpot and now was only waiting to find out what the other professors were like before she traded that class in for another.
Dinner was uneventful aside from the funny looks that several of the teachers gave her when she was cheerfully greeted by Snape and, in turn, greeted in a very distressed manner by McGonagall. Afterwards Buffy headed for the tower and settled in to write Willow and email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Wills,
I can't believe how much I miss you guys. I'm actually getting along okay with some of the teachers even if my house leader thinks I'm insane. What's this house thing? Well the students are divided into four 'houses'. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Don't ask me where those names came from, I couldn't possibly tell you.
(Buffy smirked. Technically it *was* true.)
I'm going to have to dump a class and trade it in for something else because the teacher's a nutcase. She's so much like Drusilla it's scary. I kept expecting Spike to lunge out of the dark at me and threaten to kill me. Speaking of the bleached buffoon, (Can you smack Giles for me? He's made me type buffoon!) how are things of slayage going back home? Remember, if you guys need me for anything don't hesitate to ask. I'll break out of the castle and come right home.
Oh yeah. I totally forgot to mention that the school is in a ginormous castle. I mean this thing is huge! It's a big, drafty, old, rocky, turreted with a moat castle. Can you believe it? There's a forest next to us that no one is supposed to go into but I'll hit it for vamps and stuff tonight maybe.
Has Angel come home yet? I miss him so much Willow. I keep having this feeling that he's in trouble and I can't do anything about it. Please tell me he's home and safe and waiting for me to come back.
Give my love and stuff to Xander-I-don't-know-how-email-works Harris, and to Mr. I-refuse-to-learn-how-email-works Giles. How was his date with Ms Calendar? I know it was like a month and a half ago now but I just didn't have a chance to write you or anything while Dad ran me all over London and stuff to help me get used to things. I also found the most adorable boots for me and I'm sending you a t-shirt in the mail. It'll look so good on you Oz will totally flip. How is Oz? How is dating Oz? How are smoochies with Oz? Tell me everything! I demand to have vicarious smoochies since I'm not getting any from Angel.
Is Angel back now?
I know I sound pathetic but I just miss him.
And on that note, I'll sign off and write to you again soon.
Buffy
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
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Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: Buffy and Angel and all the rest belong to the almighty Joss Whedon, while the Hogwarts gang belong to JK Rowling.
Summary: Buffy's actually a witch and it's about time the Wizarding world caught on to muggle magics.
Timeline: Set primarily in HP book six(ish) and BtVS AU season three.
Notes: It is finally complete. Thank the Powers that Be. I was originally going to revise this, but I think I will just let it go. Hopefully people will enjoy this. I'm extending my apologies to those who are about to be disappointed by my getting around Buffy telling the Scoobies. I have also never been to a British mall so I don't know how late or early they close in general but if it bothers you pretend that's it's a holiday or something. Kudos to those who get the Seinfeld reference.
Feedback: Leave a review of course, but if you'd rather email me directly the address is scwlc@yahoo.ca
***********************
Los Angeles - Summer 1991
"Joyce look!" Hank Summers said excitedly to his wife. "My old boarding school has accepted Buffy as a student. I can't wait to take her to England and get her school supplies-"
Joyce's eyes widened as she heard her happy husband. "Give me that! You weren't going to even consult me on sending our daughter to a school in a foreign country?" she interrupted him.
Frowning slightly the man replied, "Joyce, I just want Buffy to have the very best education that's possible."
"So there isn't a school in the US that could possibly educate her well enough? A school in LA say?" Joyce asked, annoyed. There was also something wrong with this letter of acceptance. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.
There was a moment of silence, then Hank said to her, "So you don't see . . . I mean, it's not . . ." He trailed off helplessly while Joyce brandished the letter.
"No," she told him flatly.
A small blonde child came thumping down the stairs, dragging a stuffed pig after her. "Mom? Daddy? What's going on?"
"Nothing Pumpkin," Hank said to his girl. "Listen sweetie, Daddy wants to talk to you about something-"
Joyce shot a glare at him. "Hank, we're not going to . . ." she jerked a significant head at the letter in her hand. He shook his head and led his ten-year-old daughter out to the porch.
"You're unbelievable Joyce, a muggle through and through," he muttered under his breath before he began to tell his daughter about a wonderful world she was a part of.
Staring after her daughter and husband for a moment, Joyce shook her head and dropped the letter in the trash. The letterhead, "Hogwarts School of . . ." the rest was obscured by the trash. She slammed the lid back down and went back to making dinner.
***
Los Angeles - Spring 1995
"Daddy I can't keep this up. I know you want me to be good at this stuff, but I can't take this split tutoring in being a witch and going to high school!" Buffy cried to her father.
Hank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The separation was rapidly escalating into a divorce fight, and even though he wanted to stay with his daughter Joyce's unbelievable muggleness was pulling them apart. She was simply unable to believe even the most blatant displays of magic and every year, when the letter from Hogwarts arrived it was as though she couldn't even see the words "Witchcraft and Wizardry." He pulled his attention back to his daughter. "Honey, you never minded before." He tried to be reasonable.
Her eyes filling with tears she pressed her lips together and looked away. "I just can't take the stress. Even if I'm never licensed to do magic on my own I just can't do this. And since I'm not going to get to go to a real magic school I might as well hang up my wand." Buffy hated to do this. The fact was that being the Slayer and being normal and being a witch all at the same time weren't compatible. Worse, even though her father was a respected wizard businessman in the magical community he, and apparently the entire wizarding community, couldn't accept the world of demons and vampires the she lived in as the Slayer. They believed in it as little as most normal people believed in magic of any kind.
There was a moment of silence, the man remembering his daughter locked away in a muggle mental institution because of a nervous breakdown. His lips tightened as he considered the thought that he might have caused it. The girl looking at her father and wishing there was a way to prove to him that there was more to the non-muggle world than his magic. Finally he let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll stop giving you the magic home schooling. You need to remember though-"
"I know. No magic without a licensed witch or wizard or I'll never be able to do magic again." Buffy blinked away tears. It was the one thing other than slaying that she felt really herself when doing it. But she couldn't do all three lives and this was the least problem to drop. Father and daughter shared a moment before Hank stood and said, "Why don't we go for some ice cream?"
Buffy smiled and hugged him before skipping into the house and telling her mother. Hank stayed on the front porch a moment longer wondering if he was doing the right thing, especially given Voldemort's return in England. Then he shook off his melancholy and followed his daughter.
************
Sunnydale - Winter 1998
Buffy and Angel made their way to the ship, Angel carrying the box on his shoulder as they walked arm in arm. When they reached the gangplank Angel set the box down. "I should go the rest of the way alone." He tried not to look as depressed as he felt. It would be easier if they parted ways here. She was masterfully holding back tears, and Angel was not going to cry in front of her. Buffy was strong, she would still be there when he got back.
"Okay." Buffy said. She could see Angel was busy being strong so that she could be strong too. *Dammit! I hate doing the right thing!*
"But I'll be back. I will." Angel swore to himself he would be back. And he would be there for her even if she had found someone else. His heart twisted inside of him at the thought.
Her voice reflected every bit of the heartbreak she felt as she asked, "When? Six months, a year? You don't know how long it's gonna take or if we'll even..." Buffy just couldn't say it. He had to survive to come back to her. He had to. She looked at the ground with the unshed tears pricking her eyes.
"Hey. . ." Angel reached forward to get her to meet his eyes. "If we'll even what?" Angel thought he had a pretty good idea of what she was going to say. Her answer surprised him.
"Well, if you haven't noticed, someone pretty much always wants us dead." Buffy was not going to cry. He had always said he was proud of her for being strong, and she was not going to let him see her break down.
His denial was immediate. "Don't say that. We'll be fine." Just the thought that she would be here with no one to protect her back made him feel sick.
Buffy tried to find a way to make him see reason, to stay, even though she knew it wasn't reasonable, "We don't know that."
"We can't know, Buffy. Nobody can. That's just the deal." He paused for a moment. Drinking in the sight and scent of her. "I have something for you. For your birthday. I. . . I was gonna give it to you earlier, but . . . " he trailed off and simply held out the ring. If she agreed to wear it they would be promised to one another. If she refused . . . Angel held his figurative breath.
"It's beautiful." Buffy said. She had seen that design somewhere before. Where?
"My people -- before I was changed -- they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty . . . and the heart . . . Well, you know . . ." the moment was bittersweet. She was promising herself to him just as he was about to leave for God only knew how long. He wanted to tell her it was a betrothal ring, but it was a little unfair right before he left. "Wear it with the heart pointing towards you. It means you belong to somebody. Like this." He showed her his own ring on his finger. She touched his hand, leaned over and kissed the ring. "Put it on." He took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger.
"I don't wanna do this," Buffy said with a sob. She felt like someone was reaching into her chest pulling out her heart and stomping on it. Okay, not so poetic, but it was accurate.
Angel understood her pain and was resisting the urge to break down in tears himself. He settled for trying to let his voice and touch let her know how much he wanted to stay. "Me either."
"So don't go," she pleaded. He just looked at her as they leaned closer together, and let his eyes close as they kissed. For a moment the world fell away and he relaxed into the feelings her closeness inspired, the scent of her rising arousal and the way she fit so perfectly against him.
"Buffy . . . I . . ." Angel forced the words past his lips. "I love you." He was rewarded with a brilliant smile.
"I love you too," she whispered, struggling to hold in a sob. "You'd better get on that ship before I drag you home." He nodded, kissed her briefly once more than strode toward the ship. "Good-" she started to say.
He turned back. "I won't say goodbye because it'll sound final. I am coming back to you. I promise." Then he turned and vanished into the shadows on the boat. Buffy waited while the men finished loading the ship up, stayed as they cast off and watched until it had vanished from view in the dawn light. Then she slowly turned and made her way back to the car where Jenny Calendar had patiently waited until she was ready to leave.
Buffy looked at the ring on her finger and whispered, "You promised."
***
Sunnydale - Spring 1998
"Buffy Anne Summers!" Joyce shouted, staring in a fury at the Polaroid in her hand.
The blonde teenager came running down the stairs. "What is it Mom?"
One eyebrow raised in a position that would make Mr. Spock proud, Joyce held the photo out and said, "Can you tell me why I found this picture on the floor of your room?"
"Huh?" said Buffy before she saw its contents. "Mom I can explain-"
Amused in spite of her anger, she replied, "I can't wait to hear this."
"Well you see I was on the beach and these guys attacked me," Buffy said hurriedly her eyes flickering back and forth as she concentrated on her narrative. "So I fell into this really slimy bunch of seaweed and stuff and I just couldn't wear my shirt home. Angel came along and rescued me from those guys and lent me his shirt so I'd have something to wear until I changed." Buffy looked at her mother with wide, innocent eyes and waited for a verdict.
"So why is there a picture that looks like you're wearing nothing but that shirt, an older man wearing no shirt, and the two of you kissing?" Her voice and expression hardened. "Kissing, of course, being the best I can do at the moment since what you two actually seem to be doing in this picture is not something a mother wants to see her daughter doing with an older, handsome experienced man." Joyce's eyebrow was back up again and Buffy winced, knowing that it was a very bad sign when the eyebrow couldn't come back down.
She still tried to wriggle out. "Well I'm gonna kill Willow, 'cause it's all her fault," Buffy told her mother. Joyce did not look convinced. "You see, she had this new camera and wanted to try it out and stuff. So when she yelled 'Cheese!' Angel turned around and tripped and stuff and that's how we wound up on the bed." Buffy was proud that she had even managed to tell some of the truth. Angel *had* tripped and fallen on top of her.
The female parental unit was less impressed. "So he tripped and his lips landed on top of yours, one hand landed under your behind and the other on your breasts? Am I right?" Joyce inquired. Buffy flushed but said nothing. "I'm going to ask your father if that school he was so eager to send you to will still accept you." Joyce watched with some satisfaction as Buffy's mouth dropped open and stayed that way. "Yes, the boarding school in England."
"But . . . Angel isn't even here anymore. He had to leave and he hasn't come back yet!" Buffy said, frantically.
Snorting, her mother replied, "And if you think that's going to convince me to let you stay here where you're involved with a man who is far too old for you, you are sadly mistaken." She turned away and said, "You'd better start packing because even if you aren't accepted into that school I'm still going to send you to the farthest boarding school I can manage to keep you away from Angel." Then Joyce marched up the stairs.
*****************************
Things had moved quickly after that. Buffy had barely had time to tell her friends, Giles, help arrange for Kendra to come and replace her and get packed before her father, in transports of joy, had swooped in and dragged her off to England. She had wanted to tell them about the wizarding world, but the fact was that it was essentially illegal to tell anyone not directly involved, either a family member or in a situation that required special dispensation. Since no one believed in the efficacy of so-called muggle magic still and her friends and Watcher weren't family she couldn't tell them without bringing down a squad of aurors to wipe their memories. After all, Giles and Willow were too determined for their own good when it came to investigating supernatural phenomena and Buffy deemed it too much of a risk to tell them.
Now Buffy nervously paced around the inside of the wand shop. She had lost her original wand one day when she was forced to use it to stake a vampire. It hadn't taken the abuse well and Buffy had been forced to ask her father for a new one. He had told her they would get her new one at some wand store in Diagon Alley. It was when Buffy had been talking to Kendra that she had an idea.
"Here," she had said, handing her sister slayer a bracelet. "It's a friendship bracelet. I used a bit of my hair in it. I exchanged a few of these with friends of mine." Buffy handed her the colourful band and was surprised to see a small smile on the other girl's face.
The Jamaican abruptly reached up and plucked a few hairs from her own head. "Den perhaps you will turn dese into another bracelet for yourself." She smiled back. "I would make you one but I do not know how."
Buffy had grinned back and promised she would send Kendra a book on the art of making friendship bracelets and would make herself one with the hairs she had been given. She silently decided to also send a few to the wand- maker to see if they could be used in her own wand.
So there she stood, anxiously waiting to see if Kendra's hair had been made into a wand or not. "Well?" she called, finally getting too antsy to wait quietly any longer. She wished Willow or Xander were there to keep her spirits up in the creepy little shop. Unfortunately Xander was completely magicless and Willow, although very talented in wiccan-style witchery, (at least according to Jenny Calendar who was teaching her) hadn't even a spark of the kind of magic that set the wizarding world apart. It was strange how the two magics were invisible to one another in active form but the properties of magical herbs and the hairs, toenails and whatever else from magical creatures were effective with both types of magic. Even if Giles snickered at the very notion of thestrals.
The wizened old man finally reappeared and said, "This was such unusual hair. Do you have any more? It's an excellent wand material and even if this does not suit you, which I cannot guarantee that it will, it will definitely sell to someone it conducts magical power so well."
Buffy chuckled slightly and said, "Sorry, that source is all tapped." Then she held out her hand. "Can I try it now?" He handed it to her and was as startled as Hank when Buffy gently waved the wand. A gentle wind sprang up and the tiny shop suddenly seemed dark to the two men, but it was comforting and wild at the same time. Buffy laughed in delight as a feeling of protectedness settled into every nook and cranny of the place.
Ollivander stared at the young girl. He had never been so taken by surprise by a wand's owner. Gradually the feelings of both wildness and warmth faded and all that was left was a quiet feeling of protective strength. "Well." He took a breath. "It seems you were right. This was an unusual wand in several ways, but it would be foolish of me to try to give that wand to anyone else." He watched them go. The wand had been made up of sacred oak, rowan, ash and, for whatever bizarre reason, palm. It was the first time he had seen a wand that demanded more than one wood and he had never seen such a curious magical core. He shrugged and went back to work, watching with interest as his door seemed to take a delight in shocking visitors to his shop with static electricity throughout the day, but only select alumni of Slytherin House that had associations with Voldemort.
Buffy eagerly spent the day collecting her books, robes, owl, magic supplies and exploring Diagon Alley. Hank started in surprise when, the next day, Buffy told him she wanted to go shopping for school supplies. "We just spent yesterday buying your supplies. What else do you need?" he demanded.
Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "For one thing I need binders and lined paper for taking notes and stuff, pens, pencils-"
"You know quills and parchment will be provided at the school," Hank told his daughter. She just looked at him as though he had grown a second head. So, he sighed and took her to one of London's malls. Buffy squealed with delight as she took in all the stylish clothing on the racks and the new high-heeled chunky boots she had determined, with much research, fit within the parameters of the school's uniform. "I thought we were getting *school* supplies, not more shoes," Hank said to Buffy.
A moment of silence followed by another look, this time as though he had turned into a particularly stupid houseplant. "Dad. I need to have good clothes for when I'm not in class and stuff. I need to look my best. Who knows what the other kids think is cool! I need to at least look good on my first day and," she added as he opened his mouth, "If you even try to tell me none of the kids there care about wearing anything but their uniforms I'm going to laugh like I was possessed by a hyena."
He blinked, raised a hand and opened his mouth to object to the simile, closed and lowered, opened and raised again, then gave up and followed her into a clothing store. Finally she bought the school things she wanted and an exhausted Hank drove a still vibrating Buffy home. "I don't know if I can move," he groaned.
"Why aren't they open any later?" Buffy grumbled. "Any decent mall should be open until at least eight."
Having decided that arguing with Buffy was useless he just watched as she puttered around the hotel room, fussing with the new laptop her mother had bought her in a fit of guilt. Finally he had to ask, "Why are you bringing that? You know that technology doesn't work on the Hogwarts grounds."
Surprisingly she grinned. "I think I may have a way around that," she told him, refusing to say any more.
The next day they were on the train to Hogwarts. It was eerily empty in Hank's opinion, but they had to go early so that the professors could determine what year they should put Buffy into. It had also been decided that she would be sorted separately from the first years since there was no need to make her suffer the stigma of being sorted with them.
On arriving the first order of business was to get Buffy sorted so that she could get herself settled into her house. They were greeted at the door by an old man with an enormous white beard, long white hair, and what seemed to be a perpetually amused look on his face. It turned out he was the headmaster, ("Principal," Hank whispered to Buffy who nodded gratefully) Dumbledore. "I see you've quite a muggle turn of mind the both of you," he said with a smile. "I've been looking forward to meeting you for a very long time Miss Summers."
"Really," Buffy said. "The last time I heard that . . ." She trailed off as the two men looked at her. "You know what? Nevermind." She suppressed all thoughts of both Giles and Angel firmly. It would just make her homesickness and Angelsickness worse. She pondered the word Angelsickness while her father and Dumbledore talked about that stupid wizard sport quidditch. She liked flying well enough. Actually, she adored it and terrified her father every time she was on a broom that she was going to break her neck with the stunts she did. But to play a game where there were bowling balls flying around trying to knock you off your broom? Stupid.
Of course, thoughts of stupid risks just brought her mind back to one time when Angel had yelled at her for taking stupid risks when patrolling as though it was her fault Xander and Willow had taken all her stakes before she left the library. Then he had hugged her and followed this with making out on top of the Henderson crypt. Buffy blinked back tears as she thought of how much danger he was in and how she couldn't help him. Then Dumbledore said, "Bubble-Yum," to a column in the wall and it opened to show a staircase spiralling up.
"So how does this sorting thing work?" Buffy asked once she was settled into a chair opposite Dumbledore's desk.
The old man stood and walked over to a shelf where a grimy, old, torn and threadbare hat sat crumpled. "All you must do is place the hat on you head and then it will tell us which house you belong in."
"That's it?" Buffy asked eyeing the hat dubiously.
"Yes."
Dumbledore approached her and began to lower the hat down. It settled over her head and a moment later Buffy heard it speak to her telepathically. *Telepathy. Telepathically. It's really quite interesting how the muggles have come up with words for things that we take for granted but have no words for. And . . . Oh my. I've never seen anything like this. You're a Slayer. What's . . . Well, this has been interesting but I would advise you not to mention your Calling to anyone just yet. The Wizarding world knows as little about that magic as the Muggle world at large. Not even Dumbledore who's really quite impressive for a human.*
Buffy, under the hat, raised an eyebrow and silently asked, *What I am is all fine and dandy, but aren't you supposed to tell people which clique I'm being sorted into?*
*Clique? I suppose you're right, but it's what I was created to do. Anyhow, there's only one place in this school for you, and although I suspect you would be happier to be placed in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff you wouldn't belong, so . . . *
"Gryffindor!"
Dumbledore promptly took the hat off her head. "Talkative little beastie isn't he?" Buffy commented as she watched the hat be laid back on the shelf. It stuck its tongue out at her and she responded in kind. Then frowned trying to work out just where the hat had gotten a tongue or a mouth.
Chuckling the headmaster responded, "You probably aren't the first to think so." He then explained Buffy's test schedule and called for Professor McGonagall to take Buffy to the Gryffindor tower. When she arrived Buffy turned to see a strict-looking woman in a black robe. "Ah! Minerva. I would like to introduce you to Buffy Summers. She'll be with Gryffindor, I'm not certain how many years. We'll determine that after we see how she does on her tests. Miss Summers, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall the transfiguration teacher and the head of Gryffindor house."
They stood and Hank turned to Buffy. "I'll see you this Christmas Buffy." He smiled at her and then pulled her into a hug. "Be good. Don't burn any school buildings down."
The look on Buffy's face was a competition of sour and sadness. "Thanks a lot Dad," she said, her naturally ironic temperament coming to the fore. "Goodbye."
Her father vanished down the hall in one direction and McGonagall took her down another hallway. She silently led Buffy up some stairs to a portrait. "Ragamuffin," she said, and the lady in the portrait smiled.
"I haven't seen this one before. Where are you from dear?" she asked.
Buffy smiled back. "California. I've been home schooled in witchcraft until now."
"Well I hope you have a good time this year lovey." Then the portrait swung back to reveal a comfortable room.
Buffy pulled her suitcase into the room after her and looked at McGonagall expectantly. "So now what?"
The woman raised an eyebrow but didn't say the reprimand on the tip of her tongue. Instead she pointed to a set of stairs on the other side of the room. "Up those stairs is the girls' dormitory, the other set leads to the boys. You will not go into the boys dormitory and I expect to not find any boys in the girls'." She sent a stern glare at Buffy. "Any infractions will be punished and points will be removed from Gryffindor. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am," Buffy said and saluted. McGonagall almost smiled at the impertinence. "Um . . . So can I take any bed up there or are they like . . . designated or something?"
This time the professor did smile. "You may take whichever bed you wish. I will leave you here to get settled. Supper will be at six in the main hall. If you get lost, just ask any of the paintings for directions." With that, McGonagall vanished through the door leaving Buffy alone in the tower. She sighed and hauled her luggage up the stairs. She had already dropped her owl Newman off in the owlery so all she really had to do was unpack. On reaching the dormitory she went straight to the window and was delighted to see that it was large enough for her to climb through, opened over a rooftop not too far below, and that there was an easy route from the roof to the ground and back up again. For the Slayer anyways. Or maybe a vampire.
The thought of a vampire sobered her immediately. Hunting was going to be difficult here, especially with that forbidden forest nearby. Buffy could feel the power emanating from it and resisted the urge to go investigate. It also made her think of Angel and wonder what he was doing, if he was alright and if he really was going to come home to see her. Buffy looked sadly at the ring on her finger. She had talked to Willow about it and found out it was like a wedding ring. She looked out the window again and whispered to the wind, "Be safe."
**********************
Angel was grouching around in Yorkshire, genuinely cranky his route back to Sunnydale had been detoured there. It wasn't that he had anything against Yorkshire in particular, but he was in a hurry to get back to Sunnydale and he didn't want to be slouching around in England unless Buffy was with him. As he turned a corner he nearly ran headlong into a group of men wearing robes and bizarre masks. "Sorry," he muttered trying to go around them.
Instead of moving out of his way the group shifted to block his path. "Well, how interesting. A muggle all alone at night," said one.
Eyes narrowed Angel replied, "I don't know what a 'muggle' is but it sounds like an insult." He pulled himself to his full height and drew on centuries of practice at looking menacing and continued. "I'll ignore the comment if you get out of my way." He lowered his head slightly and smiled nastily.
While some suddenly looked nervous, to his satisfaction, the others didn't seem impressed. Interestingly he couldn't scent even a bit of fear or apprehension on their parts. "You think you can threaten us?" A chuckle rippled around the group and Angel felt a slight chill. "Muggle."
His temper firmly reined in Angel began to push his way through the men. He had no warning as one shouted "Crucio!" and pain enveloped his world. His last thought before he fell unconscious was of Buffy and the hope that she would be alright.
Miles away Buffy, asleep in her dorm room, woke with a scream. She sat up shuddering and tried to convince herself it was only a dream. She almost managed.
******************
The next morning Buffy felt exhausted from lack of sleep but put it aside. She had to concentrate on her placement tests. She'd already chosen her classes, but there were most likely things she would have to make up and who knew whether or not she'd remember everything in a test. Luckily her first test was a simple flying test by the flying instructor Mrs. Hooch to be certain Buffy's skills on a broom were up to par. Buffy did as she was asked and finished off her sedate (by her admittedly daredevil's standards) flight by doing a loop. The teacher yelled at her when she came back down but didn't give her detention or anything. Buffy passed that one with flying colours and went to her next exam with somewhat more confidence.
The charms professor was a fluttery man but his test was simply a brief oral quiz about which charms and hexes were which and when to use them. Then he had a practical which he started by asking her to levitate a few objects then had her cast a few charms. When she finished she felt, if not confident, more like she wasn't going to flunk all the tests.
Potions came next and Buffy bounced into the dungeon cheerfully. It was one of her favourite subjects. You got to mix all these ingredients together and then when you drank or spread it something cool would happen. Even when you screwed up you got to see explosions and stuff. She settled into her seat and waited for the Professor to arrive. It didn't take him long and Buffy was immediately unimpressed. Oh she would have to be cautious around him to avoid crummy marks no doubt, but the man was like a bad Master impersonator or something. He was trying so hard to be scary that she couldn't help but think of everything she'd ever seen that was scarier in comparison. "Miss Summers."
She glanced at her test schedule. "Professor Snape." She stood and smiled. "So what are we doing first?"
Looking almost surprised he replied, "I assume you see the ingredients laid out? Make a liquid fire potion, we'll test it in the brazier when you're done. I expect it to be flawless." He turned away and stalked toward the front of the room.
"Do you want the Uisge Teine potion, Ba'ar Mayim solution or the Flammare potion?" she asked him. He stopped dead and turned to her.
"You've made an Uisge Teine potion before?" he asked. "Then you should know that it requires both a burning sprig of heather and pine sap that has been let simmer for a day and a night." His smirk irritated her as he clearly waited for her response.
Buffy shrugged noncommittally, "True enough, if you need the full spectacular effect of fire in a bottle but you don't need those to make it work." She raised her eyes to meet his. "If all you want is a liquid that will set things on fire, all you need is the rest of the potion."
"You require olive oil and water from the Dead Sea to make Ba'ar Mayim," he said, his gaze never wavering.
Buffy grinned. "Substitutions can sometimes work pretty well. All you need is tap water and salt from the Dead Sea to make up for the water part and olive oil can be gotten from the kitchen." She shrugged and added, "Or I could just transfigure a glass of water into olive oil."
Snape seemed almost about to smile back, then he pointed at the cauldron in front of her and said, "Flammare potion."
Fixing up the potion quickly Buffy reflected on her good fortune. As a slayer, she had determined early on that liquid fire potions could be very useful to her and had built up a minor lexicon of such potions for use on vampires. They would be better than holy water for emergencies and had wished she had some when setting the gym on fire in LA. Now that she was going to be licensed after all, Buffy felt no compunction about showing off how much she knew about such things. Finishing quickly, she marched over to the brazier and dropped a couple dry twigs into it then watched in satisfaction as they burst into flames as the potion was poured over them.
Her professor nodded then said, "Reasonable. Now a wit-sharpening potion." She opened her mouth and his lips twitched. "Acramens potion," he clarified. Buffy grinned back at him and went to work. Potions was so simple. Follow each step and voila! Instant magic thingy. She finished adding the last ingredient with a flourish then handed it to her professor.
"I'd drink it to test it, but I think we'll be able to tell better if you drink it," she told him mischievously.
At first he glared at her, but the effects of a student who was both good and unafraid of him began to get the better of his humour. It wasn't that Miss Granger was a terrible student but her methodical precision and complete lack of passion for anything save an excellent grade irritated him. In this new Gryffindor he had finally found a student who wasn't unreasoningly terrified of him and showed a genuine flair for his subject rather than the cautious technical excellence of most others. "Perhaps you are right Miss Summers," he finally said. "You appear to have been gifted with far too much wit for your own good."
Two more potions, both times she again challenged his knowledge, and he let her go. He was particularly impressed with her growth potion which she made using an interesting variation he had never heard of. Buffy chuckled when he actually looked stunned at the beautiful roses blossoming in the clay pot. "It's an old family recipe," she told him.
Buffy bounced out of the potions test. Either she was going to get it later for sheer insolence or she'd just made her first friend on the staff. Hoping it was the latter rather than the former, the girl paused. "I have spent way too much time around Giles," she muttered.
After lunch she trotted up to the dorm and finished unpacking. She began to twist and turn the satellite dish around and grumbled at the wires that refused to stay where they were supposed to. Finally she got the signal and moved on to getting her laptop tested and everything else checked. Buffy left the tower for her next exam triumphant at her success of introducing technology to Hogwarts.
Transfiguration sucked big time. It had never been one of Buffy's strong suits. She could manage simple things, changing tweezers to scissors for example, but her mind wavered when she tried more complicated transformations and everything either turned into miniature sculptures of Angel, some that made even her stern-faced professor blush and glare, or into things related in some way to slaying. Buffy finally left with the feeling that the head of her house had given up on her.
Then came history. Buffy went in and Buffy went out again. Everything else was a blank to her. Thank heaven she had decided against taking history.
There was one more exam set before dinner, then four more the day after. The last one of the day was the divination test. Buffy mounted the ladder with some apprehension. She was the Slayer and had all kinds of sixth-sense- y stuff going on in her head, but it might be totally invisible to this Professor Trelawney. One hour later Buffy left and headed straight for dinner. She'd decided within minutes that the woman was a crackpot and now was only waiting to find out what the other professors were like before she traded that class in for another.
Dinner was uneventful aside from the funny looks that several of the teachers gave her when she was cheerfully greeted by Snape and, in turn, greeted in a very distressed manner by McGonagall. Afterwards Buffy headed for the tower and settled in to write Willow and email.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Wills,
I can't believe how much I miss you guys. I'm actually getting along okay with some of the teachers even if my house leader thinks I'm insane. What's this house thing? Well the students are divided into four 'houses'. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Don't ask me where those names came from, I couldn't possibly tell you.
(Buffy smirked. Technically it *was* true.)
I'm going to have to dump a class and trade it in for something else because the teacher's a nutcase. She's so much like Drusilla it's scary. I kept expecting Spike to lunge out of the dark at me and threaten to kill me. Speaking of the bleached buffoon, (Can you smack Giles for me? He's made me type buffoon!) how are things of slayage going back home? Remember, if you guys need me for anything don't hesitate to ask. I'll break out of the castle and come right home.
Oh yeah. I totally forgot to mention that the school is in a ginormous castle. I mean this thing is huge! It's a big, drafty, old, rocky, turreted with a moat castle. Can you believe it? There's a forest next to us that no one is supposed to go into but I'll hit it for vamps and stuff tonight maybe.
Has Angel come home yet? I miss him so much Willow. I keep having this feeling that he's in trouble and I can't do anything about it. Please tell me he's home and safe and waiting for me to come back.
Give my love and stuff to Xander-I-don't-know-how-email-works Harris, and to Mr. I-refuse-to-learn-how-email-works Giles. How was his date with Ms Calendar? I know it was like a month and a half ago now but I just didn't have a chance to write you or anything while Dad ran me all over London and stuff to help me get used to things. I also found the most adorable boots for me and I'm sending you a t-shirt in the mail. It'll look so good on you Oz will totally flip. How is Oz? How is dating Oz? How are smoochies with Oz? Tell me everything! I demand to have vicarious smoochies since I'm not getting any from Angel.
Is Angel back now?
I know I sound pathetic but I just miss him.
And on that note, I'll sign off and write to you again soon.
Buffy
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