Dead Vacation

Disclaimer in first chapter.

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I have never seen... Buffy get killed by the Master. (BtVS/HP)

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The scream started in her lungs with a deep breath, then was stalled in her throat by the razor-sharp fangs of the Master. What came out was a half-gasp, half-sigh; further muffled by her own objecting muscles as every tendon and filament drew tight and knotted in protest.

Buffy felt her Slayer-self and her Buffy-self separate and begin to war for control of her body. Her throbbing heart steadily beat her blood into the Master's mouth until he dropped her, grinning a crimson smile and practically cooing in pleasure.

She fell forward, face-first into the craggy pool filled with god-knows-what sort of liquid. Her hazel eyes were wide and blank and she could not move. Some part of her brain that wasn't taken up with thoughts like, Huh, so this is how drowning feels, informed her clinically that her premature rigor-mortis might be some latent vampire thrall ability of the ancient vampire's.

Handy having prey that can't run if you want a break between dinner and seconds.

Water, or whatever it was that filled the pool, rushed into her lungs. In just a few seconds she went from healthy Buffy, to three-day sick Buffy, to 'go into the light' Buffy. It was funny, she'd heard some people went out with a smile on their faces, like they were seeing something wonderful.

All she saw was black.

...........

She blinked. Heaven is kind of... medieval-ish.

Looking around, she saw massive portraits and landscapes lining a really, really tall hallway-type room filled with staircases that were - moving? - huh, weird. The walls, where they could be seen between the big pictures and tapestries that were - also moving? Ok.... - were solid gray stone and looked old. Really old.

A faint swishing sound presaged a man's appearance in a large doorway to her left. He was dressed in a luridly purple bathrobe-type cloak covered in bright red stars. Buffy's innate fashion sense cringed, wincing in pain.

"Hello?"

He turned and smiled gently, "Hello."

Slightly encouraged, she took a step closer. "Hi, I'm Buffy Summers. Where am I?"

"You are in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I am Albus Dumbledore - Headmaster of this fine institution of learning." His smile turned into a faintly puzzled frown, "You're not a student here, or a relation of a student here...?"

"No," Buffy smiled sheepishly, "I'm not actually sure how I got here."

"Yes, that is a puzzlement. The wards should not have allowed you in..." He appeared to be lost in thought for a moment. "Well, why don't you come up to my office while we try and figure out the wherefores and the whynots, eh?"

Slayer-sense not tingling, intuition saying 'nice guy', and with no reason not to follow the strange man - who might or might not be an angel, jury was still out on the 'medieval heaven' thing - Buffy preceded him down the indicated hall.

She felt a strange shiver down her spine and paused, turning to see Dumbledore's hand sticking out of her stomach. Buffy's eyes widened as his hand and arm swished through her torso as if there was nothing there.

"May I assume this is a new development?" Dumbledore inquired gently.

Buffy could only nod.

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