crossmind

A fool I went blindly as soon as I got the invite, yes.

I ignored all the usual signs,

Swallowed it down with my pride,

Let you decide, yeah, ain't it funny how I'm finding out now,

It makes me laugh how I let you have your say and your way,

I've got it now, so I'm asking you babe,

Did I ever even cross your mind?

Cause its not a game of who is under the thumb,

I think you took me for a ride,

But I didn't see,

I didn't even realize, boy, that we were playing games of under the thumb,

I think you took me for a ride,

What a waste of me

~ from "Under the Thumb" by Amy Studt

*~*~*~*~*

Young girl.

Chosen young girl.

She who is destined.

Not the only one now.

Haven't been for a while.

Not the one.

And still HORRIBLE at relationships.

Not the one.

Buffy stared with a look that she didn't realize was so despondent and pouty at Oliver Wood. Oliver
Wood, heartbreaker. Did he have to thrash her insides so completely? She hadn't even wanted to come
tonight, but the new Watcher's Council had helped the Order of the Phoenix defeat some crusty old
wizard bad guy type. Buffy hadn't even been the one.

Some young guy had. Some guy named Harry she barely knew was the latest savior of the world.

She had been almost a hundred yards away from the big bad when he'd fallen. She hadn't known she
was going to actually miss being the one whose shoulders the world was supported on. It was a blessing
and a curse to be released from her sacred duty. Well, in a way. She still felt the burning need to hunt.
That was what Dracula had called it. Hunting.

It was on one hunting excursion that she had met Oliver Wood. It was a 'what's a cute blonde like you
doing in a place like this' kind of moment. Then vampires had attacked them, and he knew all too well
what the blonde was doing there. He'd started coming around after that.

Oliver was a wizard. He'd brought the Watcher's Council into the path of a man, er wizard, named Albus
Dumbledore. Buffy liked him. Dumbledore reminded her of fresh baked oatmeal cookies. There was
something warm, yet coarse about him. Their groups began meshing after that.

It seemed only natural that she and Oliver had fallen in together. They seemed to have such an easy way
with one another. For a while it had been good, and then it had gotten end-of-the-world crazy. When the
smoke cleared, there was nothing left of their relationship, so Oliver had left as well. In retrospect, she
could realize their whole companionship was about fighting the big bad. It had very little to do with her as
a female and him as a male and how they could be together in a real world... a quiet world where people
slept in some days and pulled the sheets over their heads and whispered like they were the last lovers on
the planet and just enjoyed each others' company.

Would she ever have that? Did she really want to? Would she even know how to act if the world suddenly
went silent... even for a minute? She almost wished there was a man out in the world that could deal with
her running off and fighting. She had thought that was Angel, but their missions had been different.

Missions. Defeat the evil. When did it all slide into black and white? She'd even refused to help Angel at
some point. ANGEL. Angel, her one and only. Her forever. Angel, who, though he HAD walked away in a
sense, had also been there EVERY time she REALLY needed him. When had it all gone good and evil?
Right and wrong?

Because it wasn't.

There was that shitty Draco guy who she hated with a fiery passion... but he'd saved her life. And good
God, he's been the very taint of evil up until then according to, oh, everyone. Had she refused Angel out of
some sort of misguided revenge... or had she been so wrapped up in Oliver's leaving her that she'd taken
it out of Angel for his past leaving? It had been months ago. Why was she thinking these things now?

Because she was awake finally. She'd been almost sleepwalking since Sunnydale. God, Oliver hadn't
even been real. She could see that now. He'd used her as some sort of anchor to get him through this
wizarding war. They'd clung to one another as the world stormed around them. It hadn't even been real.

What a waste.

Hadn't she done this very thing that Oliver had done to her to Spike? Payback is such a bitch. Was this
what she had done to him? Was this why he had not come back? Well, she could break free too. She
was not going to sit here and watch Oliver dance with another woman and wish it was her in his arms. He
was getting no more of her. Once upon a time she had decided that she would take whatever she could
get with Ollie. It didn't matter that he didn't love her like she was in love with him. She had foolishly thought
she could love him enough so that it wouldn't matter. She had not learned a damn thing from Spike.

Because it DID matter. It always mattered.

Buffy shoved to her feet, grabbing a fistful of her pretty ball gown in one hand, so she wouldn't trip. She
ran from the ballroom at the Ministry of Magic. Willow called to her. Xander even started after her until
Giles stilled him. Dawn told him to 'leave her be for a bit'. Buffy was grateful. Her sister got it. How many
times had Dawn comforted her in the last few months and told her someone would love her, really love
her, one day? Buffy just kept going until she found a deserted hallway. She leaned against the wall and
tried to remember how to breathe. This breaking free business hurt like the devil.

Could a person actually die of a broken heart?

Her hands went over her face as she started to cry. Buffy slid down the wall slowly until she was seated.
Then she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, making sure nothing was
hanging out of her fabulous dress of course. She knew she was making a mess of her face by crying.
Splotchy skin, red runny nose, and raccoon eyes from mascara was not her best look.

"I know what I'm doing out here, but what are you doing out here... besides crying like your heart is
breaking?" Said a male voice from the shadows.

"There's no 'like' about it. I think my heart IS breaking."

"Oh?"

"I think I just decided I'm over someone."

"Just decided? Just like that?"

"Well... yeah. Oliver-"

"Is a stupid, stupid man from what I can tell."

"You know Ollie?"

"You could say that."

"Come into the light."

"Not yet." He said in a teasing tone. "I like you not being sure of me. I like this discussing with a bit of
uncertainty on your part."

"We were discussing?"

"I was. Sort of. I just think that perhaps someone like yourself shouldn't wallow in feelings over Oliver
Wood. If he didn't see what was right before his eyes when it was there, then he's not going to see it now.
You should forget him."

"I'm trying. It just..."

"Hurts when the person you've pinned so many of your hopes and dreams on turns out to be not what they
were supposed to be at all."

"Yeah."

"Or even worse... when they don't care for you in the same way... or at all really."

"You know, I'd feel better discussing this if I could see you."

He stepped out into the minimal light. Buffy's eyes widened. Harry Potter. She never would have
guessed. The voice had sounded vaguely familiar in that British guy way, but she had not been able to
place it. Buffy had not spent a great deal of time in Harry's company since she'd been in a position to do
so.

"So what now?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't mind that you've been letting your heart out to THE Harry Potter?"

"Should I?"

"No."

"Good... because I don't think I do mind."

"So... I ask again... what now?"

"I... I don't know. God, when did I get to be so uncertain?"

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

Harry pulled a handkerchief from his black dress robes and handed it to her. "Clean up and come dance
with me?"

"Wh-what?" Buffy sputtered. She was about three years his senior.

"I've been waiting for months to get to know you better, and as it doesn't appear that Voldemort will be
trying to kill me again anytime soon and you are thankfully in my opinion NOT Oliver's girlfriend any longer
and appear to finally be putting him behind you, I think this would be the perfect opportunity to know you. I
am a fair dancer due to the task master-ish lessons given to me by my good friend Hermione. I promise
not to step on your toes... or anything at all of you."

Buffy actually smiled. "You wanted to get to know me?"

Harry held out a hand and helped her to her feet. Buffy noticed he was shifting a bit nervously and
blushing slightly, and, suddenly, he could be half her age, and she would still want to spend the night
talking to him. But now she had a strong urge to hug... or perhaps kiss him.

"Well?" She asked expectantly.

"Er, well... yes."

"Why?"

"Well, you're fascinating."

"You wouldn't think so if you knew me. There's nothing so special about me anymore."

"I happen to disbelieve that. I think you'll turn out to be wildly fascinating, but I guess I'll see, won't I?"

"Yeah... at your own peril." Buffy said derisively as she dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose.

"Remember to whom you speak, Miss Summers. Peril is my middle name."

"I thought it was James."

He looked at her oddly.

"Other people are fascinating too." She said sheepishly. "I wanted to know who I was fighting with. It's
amazing what a girl can find in back issues of the Daily Prophet, The Quibbler, or Teen Witch."

"Teen Witch? They wrote about me?"

"Mostly inane stuff... like your favorite color is green and you like shepherd pie, Quidditch, and girls who
don't mind a little adventure."

"Oh hell." He blushed darkly. "That."

"I liked the picture with it."

"Picture?"

"It was you with your shirt off... and it being a wizard picture... you were winking."

Harry groaned. "I was eighteen and deeply stupid when I did that."

Buffy laughed. Harry was already making her feel better.

"I though it was sort of... nice. Though you were awfully pale."

"I'm British."

Buffy snickered. "Do I look ok?"

"Always."

She glared. "I meant do I look splotchy still? Is there still makeup running down my face?"

"Hold on."

He took the hankie from her and tilted her head up a bit. Harry wiped delicately under her eyes. Buffy
nearly melted into the floor. She had not had anyone treat her so tenderly in a long time. She could not
help smiling.

"I can't believe you actually found a copy of that horrible Teen Witch. I thought I had managed to locate
and burn all of them."

"Not Ginny's copy."

"That little..."

"That statement had better end with the word sweetheart."

Harry chuckled. "So... do we dance now? You're back to being stunningly beautiful. No splotches in
sight."

"One thing."

"Yes?"

"Harry, why were YOU out here?"

He looked sheepish.

"What?"

"Well, everyone's saying I saved the world. How do you deal with that, you know? It's too big."

"Me? Well, I party. That's how I deal with saving the world."

Harry blinked. "Of course. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment."

"It... it was just a bit quiet, and I was a pretty girl?" Buffy asked so hopefully she knew it was radiating from
her hazel eyes.

"Exactly."

"Well, you are in luck, my man, I am an old hand at playing a part in world save-age. I'll steer you through
the curves."

"I'm counting on it."

He was staring down at her with this little smirk on his nice boy face that was anything but nice boy. It was
devious and sexy. She'd spent months wallowing and feeling something was wrong with her. The way
Harry Potter was looking at her just now was saying loudly that there was nothing at all wrong with her.

The whole time Oliver had been playing his little game she had been crossing Harry's mind. That was just
wild.

And ironic.

Oliver who?

*~*~*~*

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