UnExpected

Chapter 17

Vermin. Pests. A disease upon this planet that should be disposed of . Raking his eyes over the crowded room, he forced his face to remain neutral, friendly even. Forced his eyes from narrowing and his lips from sneering. Their innocence making his skin crawl. None more so than Harry Potter. He tried to keep his eyes from lingering too long, but always kept the boy within his sight. After all, he was the very reason of why he was here. Trapped inside this body and having to rely on another for life. He was the one who had cursed him into this existence.

Passing his eyes over the room again, he rested them on a long table filled with silver, black and green. His vision soaking up every single body, hoping to find a loyal follower within the young faces. He immediately spotted a white-blond head, a Malfoy. However, the golden blonde girl beside him grabbed his attention. There was... something ...about her. Her tiny form holding a regal grace that stood out to him. A certain air in her presence. But that wasn't what he found most intriguing. There was a shadow in her, a dark storm brewing. He watched her closely, trying to decipher his curiosity. The feeling of an invisible hand that stretched out to him. Opening up his inner sense, he reached out. There was definitely a darkness there, untouched, stirring, and waiting. His curiosity had grown deeper. The girl had... potential ...

Harry woke up with a start. The scar stinging on his skin. Forcing his labored breath to return to normal, he rested on his back. Buffy. He had been dreaming about Buffy. Resting cool fingers over the still burning scar, Harry dissected the dream. He saw himself, during his first year at Hogwarts. He had felt a stinging anger within him as he laid eyes on his younger version. A choking hatred grabbing at his lungs.

Then he saw Buffy. Young and innocent with a fierce look in her luminous eyes. He had felt it. Something dark and old radiating from her. Almost primal. It drew him, called to him. And he wanted it. He craved it almost to obsession. Even now as he lay awake in his bed, Harry could feel the anxiousness crawling in his skin. It had felt so real, like a memory, but it was only a dream. A figment of his imagination, it had to be. Rolling over to his side again, Harry repeated the words in his mind trying to find sleep again. His confused brain searching for ease and trying to calm the storm of emotions running through him. It was only a dream. It was only a dream.

*****

"What?" she asked.

He paused and Buffy could see him waver with the decision, again.

"N-nothing," he stuttered and went back to his work.

That was the third nothing he had said since she caught him staring at her and asked him what was going on. She was back to doing her homework when she felt his eyes again.

"Neville, your nothings would be a whole lot more convincing if you didn't keep looking at me like that," Buffy told him, her eyes still on the parchment she was writing on.

"Sorry," he blushed. "It's just..."

"Yes?" she asked, looking up expectantly.

His hands wrung nervously beneath the table, and his eyes shifted from side to side. What would be the harm? It's not like she wasn't allowed to know. As a matter of fact, Hermione had told him that anyone who was interested was invited, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to tell her.

"Neville. I'm only going to ask you this one more time before I give up on it all together," she told him politely. "Now, what is it?"

"It's – it's just..." he stumbled again still trying to find the courage to say it. Why wasn't this easier? It was only an invitation, it's not like he was asking her to give him a kidney. Even so, he couldn't do it. His bruised esteem still wary of the new Buffy, no matter how many changes he saw in her. "Never mind," he sighed in failure and buried himself back into the book.