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School was still excruciating for Buffy, but it was slowly getting better. No one would approach her anymore, but at least they weren’t always talking about her anymore. The rumours had slowly died down, as had the howlers that used to come daily. She still received one or two, but had yet to read or listen to any of the messages that were sent.

Her daily ritual of training had put Buffy into better shape than she’d been in even when she’d actually been doing active patrol in Sunnydale. Giles was impressed with the sudden work ethic she’d found in balancing her studies and in her training.

She’d spent the better part of the chilly February morning pouring over her photo albums for the millionth time since she’d come to Hogwarts. There was a question that had been annoying her for a while and she was itching to ask Giles if he knew the answer to it. The only problem was getting him to tell her.

She was nervous for some reason, and she hated being nervous. It was almost as bad as relinquishing control, and she hated doing that.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, exhausted from the rigorous training session she’d just put herself through. It was the best way to ensure a good nights sleep, to physically exhaust herself to the point where she was almost asleep on her feet. It had worked for he last few weeks, and it was another way of staying away from the students who were still wary of her.

“Giles?”

Giles looked up, slightly distracted, having had his nose in a book for the better part of the afternoon.

“Hmm?”

Buffy swallowed hard and decided to just jump into the deep end of the pool.

“Who was my mother?”

Giles’ head snapped to attention and she knew that Giles was fully focusing on her now. He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully and chewed at the end of his pen. Neither Buffy nor Giles liked using quills and found themselves using the muggle pens and pencils that they’d brought with them, unless it was during classes.

“Why do you ask?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Curiousity. You’ve never mentioned her. Only my father.”

He couldn’t fault her for being curious. Honestly he was surprised it had taken her so long to ask him.

“Is she alive?” Buffy asked timidly.

Giles hesitated for a moment. “She is.”

“Is she…she’s a Death-Eater isn’t she?”

“Not by choice if that’s what you mean,” Giles replied. “She bears the mark as you do, but she is no more supportive of Voldemort’s evil than you are.”

Buffy was incredibly confused. “But…why would he have a kid with someone who didn’t support him?”

“To show the world that he had power. That he could do whatever he wished with anyone he wished,” Giles explained.

Buffy nodded, understanding the logic of it all. Doing something to prove that they could do it. Not stunningly original, but still logical, in an evil “I’ll show you” way that a lot of ‘bad guys’ had.

“So…she didn’t want to have Voldemort’s child?” Buffy asked.

Giles shook his head. “She wanted nothing to do with Voldemort. She was uh…banished from the Wizarding World by the Ministry of Magic. They forced her to ingest Veritaserum, a truth potion, and found out that she wasn’t a Death-Eater by choice. They allowed her to leave and never return. She was devastated of course. She loved you.”

“Where is she now?”

“No one knows,” Giles answered. “She was…she was only twenty years old when she was forced to carry his child. She was a very beautiful young woman by all accounts. The last time I saw her I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts, and she would have been in…her third year I believe.”

“Was she in Slytherin as well?”

Giles nodded. “She was in Slytherin yes, but…not all Slytherins are horrible, contrary to popular belief. She wasn’t…she wasn’t the nicest woman in the world, but she knew what love was. She loved you desperately. She begged the Ministry to let her take you with her.”

Buffy wiped at her eyes, surprised to find her cheeks slightly damp from tears that had trickled from her eyes.

“What was her name?” she asked quietly.

“Sara Lanstone.”

Buffy nodded in thanks and took off from the training room before Giles could stop her. And as much as the DADA Professor wanted to stop Buffy from looking up her mother, the other part of him wanted her to be able to find some sort of comfort in this tumultuous time.

Buffy raced to the library, straight to the section that contained the previous grades yearbooks. She knew exactly where everything was kept in the library, such was the amount of time that she’d spent in there. She estimated the time frame for her mother’s graduation and took three of the yearbooks of the shelf. She took them to her corner of the library and spread them out in front of her.

Flipping through them page-by-page, she searched for the young woman who was her mother. It wasn’t until she’d reached the third yearbook that she found her.

Sara Lanstone, Slytherin. Graduated in 1980.

She was a sweet looking young woman. Buffy could see the resemblance between herself and her birth mother almost immediately. She flipped through the pages, smiling at how many photos there were of her mother. She seemed to be a fairly popular woman. One particular surname, however, stuck out on the page.

Malfoy. Sara’s circle of friends included Lucius Malfoy as well as another woman named Narcissa Lanstone, Sara’s sister, older than Sara by four years. She stared intently at the photo and found familiar silver eyes staring back at her from Narcissa’s face.

The same silver eyes that Draco Malfoy had.

Buffy snapped the book shut and grabbed the other two yearbooks as well. Replacing the books on the shelf, but taking her mothers yearbook with her, she raced out to find Draco, desperate to know more about her parentage, about the possibility of her having more family than just the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Buffy found Draco heading towards the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle following him blindly. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from his two lackeys.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, his voice filled with onvious concern.

“What’s your mom’s name?” Buffy asked frantically.

“Narcissa,” he replied. “Why?”

Buffy opened the yearbook up to the photo of the three Slytherin’s Lucius, Narcissa and Sara. Draco looked at it and shrugged vaguely. “So? They were high-school sweethearts.”

Buffy pointed to the sweet faced Sara that stood beside Draco’s mother.

“They’re sisters,” Buffy said.

Draco looked closer at the photo and nodded. “Aunt Sara. I’ve heard a little bit about her. I’ve never met her though. What’s got you panicked?”

“Well, your Aunt Sara is my mom,” Buffy said.

Draco felt his heart plummet, his usually pale skin going an even paler shade of white.

“What?”

Buffy nodded. “Drake, we’re cousins.”

Buffy watched the myriad of emotions cross the boys usually expressionless face. Draco finally settled on a look of not quite disgust. His nose wrinkled and he looked at her.

“We’ve kissed,” he said bluntly.

“I know,” she replied, her face mirroring his.

“That’s really…”

“Gross?” Buffy offered.

Draco nodded. He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. “Yuck.”

“I’ll say,” Buffy added. “No offence to you of course, but…yuck.”

Draco laughed and pulled Buffy into a hug, sighing at the realisation that the one girl he had ever truly loved was someone he really couldn’t ever be with. Buffy hugged him back tightly, somehow slightly thankful that she had ended up being related to him. It made her choice between Draco and Harry far easier to make.

“I still love you,” Draco whispered. “Just…as a sister I guess. I’ve never had any relatives my age.”

Buffy smiled, thankful that this wasn’t going to change anything too major between them. “Love you too Drake.”

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