by Lisette: Lisette_an@hotmail.com

Legalese: The television series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters and material belong to Joss Whedon and UPN.  All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.  I claim ownership solely of the story idea - no profit will be made by this.

Author's Note: Before getting into the good stuff, I wanted to remind all of you that this story is slightly AU in that it follows a different BtVS and HP timeline.  There are going to be some references in this chapter that blatantly point out the fact that I'm having Buffy be about six months younger than in the real deal.  Also, try not to forget that in Buffy canon, her first year on the Hellmouth was actually her second year as a Slayer as they, for some odd reason, continue to count the movie as her first canon year.  Anyway, if there is further confusion, once more just check out the timeline I created at http://www.geocities.com/lisette865/timeline.htm.  

In addition, if there's one thing that I've learned in writing and reading fanfiction, it's that you can never make every reader happy.  In general, this principle is never more apparent then when a writer creates a relationship and introduces it to the writing.  That was the main reason that I didn't have any main pairings in ToF - because they are usually covered in so much controversy that I didn't want it to draw away from the crux of the story.  However, from the way that this story is shaping, 'ships are going to be pretty important to the gist and I can't just not put them in.  So, it's at this point that I have to apologize to all of those who are clamoring for one 'ship or the other.  The 'ships will stand as I create them because they have to for this story to work.  I'm sorry if you don't generally enjoy the pairings, but it's just the way it is.  I'm hoping that I won't lose any readers over this and that instead you'll give the pairings a shot - maybe this time the pairing will work on you.  So once more, I'm sorry that I can't please everyone, but quite truly, to do so would be a miracle.  

Anyway, a huge thanks needs to be given once more to Rob, poppie, burnout, Jeanne, Selene, darkhaven (thanks for the support!), Lady Lana, X-Lander, Tara, Jo, Susan, Harry, and micky.  You guys seriously give me the support needed to continue posting at this maddening rate!  Thank you so much for your encouragement and please don't stop now!

Kiwi: Hmm, after having you throw that back at me, I'm starting to see why having a beta could be a good thing.  Sorry, but it's just me playing writer, reader, and editor on this thing and that poorly phrased sentence was missed in my final edit!  It's still meant to be pretty vague, but try this interpretation instead: "they didn't need another painful reminder that night of what they'd lost..."  Maybe that helps to clear it up a bit. ;p And thank you for pointing it out!

Rosie: Hey, nitpick all you want!  Maybe you'll catch me on something, like Kiwi!  On the other hand, take a look at my author's notes for an explanation on that quote.  After all, you're right that it was a direct quote from the series, but since I've moved everything up by six months for Buffy, she was only fifteen when she faced the Master in my 'verse.

Vld: Good catch!  That phrase has ALWAYS really caught my attention in that song and I was psyched to finally be able to put it to use!  In a lot of ways, the Buffy in my 'verse is really similar to the one from Season 6 - both shattered and left to their watcher to pick up the pieces.  The only difference is that MY Giles isn't up and leaving her. ;p

Empress: Maybe this longer chapter will help you out a bit.... ;p

"Winter that year was strange and gray.
The damp wind smelled of Apocalypse,
And morning skies had a peculiar way,
Of slipping cat-quick into midnight ."
-The Book of Counted Sorrows-

    "So if there's no telephone anywhere in the castle, how am I supposed to talk to everyone back home?" Buffy asked, her annoyance obvious by her tone as she clomped through the forest, her heavy black cloak trailing after her slim form.

    "I know that this concept may be a little too difficult for your American-praddled mind," Giles retorted as he quickened his stride to match that of his small slayer, his eyes focused on the assorted tree roots that dotted his path, "but have you ever thought of writing them a letter?  You do realize that the written word has long been a popular method of communication, even before there even was such a thing as a telephone."

    "Gee, really?" Buffy asked, finally stopping as she turned towards her watcher, cocking her head to one side.  "Well how did we do email with no phone to dial up with?" she deadpanned before scowling at the older man.  "Besides, for some reason I get the impression that the post office doesn't make its rounds out quite this far," she added as she turned on her heel, continuing her noisy trek through the woods, a broadsword perched casually over one shoulder.

    Sighing, Giles wearily pinched the bridge of his nose before turning and hurrying once more after his ward.  "The wizarding world uses the owl post," he explained, eyes darting around their ominous surroundings.  "And must you make so much noise?" he added before his slayer could continue.  "I'm sure I must have taught you the lesson of stealth at least some point in your training.  If you keep this up, you will draw every single dangerous creature to our location in minutes!"

    "I thought that was the point," Buffy returned, arching a slim brow as she smiled sweetly.  "You know - spend each night playing in the forest, killing all the bad stuff before it can kill me.  Isn't that how it's supposed to work?  And what do you mean, owl post?" she asked, returning to their earlier conversation without even missing a beat in a way that was completely dizzying to one not accustomed to her peculiarities.

    Luckily, Giles had four years of experience in dealing with such matters.  "Exactly as it sounds," he sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward long enough to miss the root that captured his next step, sending him falling against his petite slayer who in turn, easily kept him on his feet.  "All wizarding mail is delivered by owl.  Should you want to send a letter to Sunnydale, you need to simply write it and then tie it to the foot of one of the school owls located in the Owlery."

    "Are you serious?" Buffy asked, stopping long enough to send her Watcher an incredulous stare.

    "Completely," Giles assured, silently thanking whatever deity was listening for the small respite as he nearly collapsed against a nearby tree, his crossbow slipping unnoticed to the ground beside him.

    Grinning deviously, Buffy's eyes nearly shined in the dark night as she contemplated this new mode of communication.  "Can't you just picture the look on Xander's face when an owl shows up at his bedroom window?" she asked, grinning delightedly.  "He's going to freak-"

    "Already has," Giles countered as he slowly bent and retrieved his crossbow, one hand resting on his aching back.  "I sent them a letter just yesterday with instructions on how to ship the remainder of our belongings," he explained at Buffy's questioning gaze.

    "Thanks for asking if I wanted to add a note!" Buffy quickly pouted as she scowled at her watcher.  "Real consid..." she began, her voice trailing away as her eyes narrowed, muscles tensing as she tightened her grip on her sword.  Senses tingling, she slowly turned until her eyes locked on the woods behind them.  "Told you it'd work," she murmured, just loud enough for Giles to hear as the shadows seemed to move and grow until a large creature stepped from the darkness.

    Relaxing immediately, Buffy felt a large grin spread across her face as she dropped her sword to her side.  "Hey, Firenze!" she greeted, stepping towards the half horse, half man creature as Giles' mouth dropped comically open beside her.  "Good to see you again!"

    "Slayer," it greeted, its voice low and deep as it bent one leg, bowing low to her as his mane dipped around to shade his face.

    Grimacing at the name, Buffy was about to argue before slowly giving up.  "He didn't believe that my name was Buffy," she said, confiding to her watcher as Giles hesitantly took a step forward.

    "Buffy... i-i-it's a Centaur," Giles stammered, his awe causing the stutter to come back full force as he quickly whipped off his glasses and began to polish them at a mad rate.  "A-and y-y-you know him?"

    Frowning, Buffy looked askance at her watcher.  "I thought I had already made that much apparent, what with the whole, 'Hey, Firenze, good to see you again!'" she quipped, earning herself a reproving glare which she promptly shrugged away.  "Yeah, Firenze and I met my first night out in the forest - before the slimy demon," she amended with a small smile.  "Firenze, I'd like you to meet Giles, my watcher."

    "The stars grant us this meeting, Watcher Giles," Firenze continued, his gaze unreadable.

    Wrinkling her nose at the Centaur's words, Buffy could only shrug helplessly at her watcher.  "Did I mention the funny star-talk?" she asked.  "And if you thought talking to me was confusing, wait till you give this guy a try," she added before turning back to the Centaur.  "So what brings you to my neck of the woods tonight?" she asked, getting down to business.

    "I bring a message from the heavens," Firenze returned, his eyes flickering to the dark sky high above.  "My brethren and fellow creatures of this wood have been warned of your presence and of your duty here - they will cause you no harm.  Even Aragog, king of the spider folk has agreed to steer clear of your path."

    "Hey, nifty," Buffy replied, her grin brightening.  "That'll make my job a ton easier - no doubt on who to slay when out a-slayin'," she chirped, eyes turning to her watcher.  "Which means that you don't have to baby-sit anymore, either!"

    "But be warned, Slayer," Firenze continued, his tone growing even more somber, if possible.  "The stars are out of alignment and foretell of dark times for these woods.  Mars will draw closer to Mercury and combined they will bring death out of knowledge.  Only the intervention of Venus can forestall the doom of our times."

    "Er... right," Buffy said, blinking slowly at the Centaur as it nodded once at her and then her watcher.

    "Until we meet again under the graces of the Moon, Slayer and Watcher Giles," Firenze called out before turning and disappearing into the shadows once again.

    Alone once more, Buffy drew the edges of her cloak around her slim frame, her eyes darting to Giles.  "And thus ends yet another whirlwind conversation with my good friend, Firenze," she chirped, lifting her sword and leaning it against her shoulder.  "Shall we?" she asked, pausing only as she noticed the thoughtful expression on her quiet watcher's face.  "Giles?"

    "Centaurs are known for their cryptic messages," he returned, almost absently as he fell into step with his slayer.  "It's said that they are able to read the fortune of our world from the positions of the stars."

    "Which does explain the cryptic astrology babble," Buffy agreed, opening her senses to the dark night once more.  "At least we learned one good thing: I don't need a baby-sitter anymore.  Anything that approaches me and growls - well, that's slay-worthy," she finished, beaming brightly at her watcher.

    Rolling his eyes at his ward, Giles put the Centaur's cryptic message to the back of his mind to be pondered another time.  "And leave you to attack another innocent professor?" he quipped, watching as her face flushed at the reminder of her first night of patrol.  "I think not," he continued, smiling as she huffed once and then moved ahead, stalking the woods with a vengeance, and once more making more noise than he thought physically possible for one so small.  "I think not," he added, quietly this time as he smiled fondly at the back of her blond head.  He would never risk losing her so easily - not ever again.

    Feeling more than a little ill at ease, Giles found himself trying to blend in with the strange trinkets that lined the headmaster's shelves behind him.  There was great power in the room before him - a room that was filled with the inner-most circle of the Order of Phoenix - a room in which, from the blend of hostile and curious looks directed towards him, was a room in which he didn't belong.  Then again, the Headmaster had asked for the voice of the Slayer there tonight, and knowing Buffy as well as he did, Giles found it only prudent to accept the invitation on her behalf.  After all, a certain amount of respect was demanded by the likes of the people that surrounded him - a respect that Buffy would forget when faced with their severe gazes and strange clothing - not to mention the bizarre disfigurement of one man in particular.  Not that her lack of respect was terribly surprising, he admitted, for upon being called as the Chosen One, he imagined that it was difficult to work up enough respect for anyone when you were forced to face the Darkness day in and out with little to no support from the world around her.  Her typical response would have been, what had any of these people done for her?  What, indeed.

    "Welcome, welcome."

    Startled from his thoughts, Giles straightened as Dumbledore swept into the room, his deep velvet, burgundy robes trailing majestically behind him as he paused to shake the occasional gnarled hand before settling into the deep recesses of his chair, his benevolent blue eyes sweeping the room. 

    "Thank you for coming, my friends," the old man continued, a smile directed at each individual in turn before steepling his fingers before him.  "I understand the danger you place yourselves in by coming here tonight, but Arthur brings us news from the Ministry that involves us all very deeply.  In addition," he stated, his eyes turning and locking on the watcher in the corner, "it seemed prudent to introduce you to someone.  Mr. Giles, if you would please come forth."

    Reluctantly, Giles pulled away from the wall's support, sharing a brief nod with those he knew before taking in the rest of the gazes of those gathered.  Instantly a smattering of whispered conversations erupted in the small room as distrusting and curious gazes rebounded upon him.

    "While I know you have already become acquainted with Arthur and Molly Weasley, as well as Minerva, Remus and Sirius, I'm not sure if you remember my other three guests," Dumbledore continued as he waved towards the three aged wizards and witches.  "I present you with Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, and Alastor Moody," he stated as the three grudgingly nodded to the man.  "My friends, may I introduce Rupert Giles, the watcher of Miss Buffy Summers, the slayer that has graciously offered her aid to our school."

    "And how do we know for sure that he can be trusted?" Mad-Eye Moody asked, speaking for all of them as his eyes raked over Giles' form - a matter that was extremely disturbing for the watcher, seeing as how both eyes seemed to move in different directions at the same time.

    "Because he wouldn't have been able to cross the barrier and join us here tonight if he wasn't," Molly broke in, speaking for the others as she waved away Moody's obvious distrust before flashing a brilliant smile at the man that was becoming a quick friend to the other adults gathered.  "And where is Buffy this evening?"

    "Preparing for patrol as we speak," Giles returned, silently grateful for Molly's warmth in the face of such earnest distrust.  Even if her rebuttal did earn her a harsh glare from the older crowd and a snicker from Sirius - a snicker that was, of course, quickly covered by an extremely bad version of a cough.

    "Yes, well," Dumbledore quickly broke in, trying to hide a smile himself as he quickly brought the meeting under order with a small wave of his hand.  "We will try not to keep you too long, then, for I know you prefer to patrol the forest with your charge."

    What went unspoken was the knowledge that if Giles didn't arrive before Buffy was ready to depart, the odds were that she wouldn't bother waiting for him to return before heading out on her own.  After the previous night's curious patrol, Giles had reported to Dumbledore first thing that morning, repeating news of the centaurs' cooperation and of the message that Firenze had delivered.  And while Giles still stumbled over the planetary references, Dumbledore seemed strangely intrigued by the words - a gleam of what could almost be described as understanding sparkling in his blue eyes.  But despite Giles' questioning gaze, the headmaster had refused to speak of the prophetic words and instead proceeded to tease the watcher about his obvious reluctance to allow his ward to patrol the dark night on her own.  He was sure that the headmaster understood his reasoning, but that didn't prevent the old wizard from having his fun where he could find it.

    "Arthur, your news, if you would."

    Startled from his thoughts, Giles hastily took his seat and watched as the Arthur Weasley stood before those gathered, his eyes grim.

    "As you all know, my middle son, Percy, has been working to get alongside the new Minister Blitherton since Fudge's dismissal," Arthur began, his voice firm and his lips set in a hard line.  "For the past few months Percy has been gathering information on the related Death Eater attacks and the lack of auror support for the wizarding community and... and he's been able to confirm that the directives are indeed coming from the highest level," he stated, his head shaking slightly as his somber mood seemed to infect all those gathered.  "Percy has confirmed our fears: if Minister Blitherton isn't a direct plant of Lord Voldemort, then at best he is under Voldemort's control, most likely by the use of the Imperius Curse."

    "Then all hope of Ministry help is lost," McGonagall murmured, her dark eyes narrowing as she spared a glance to the headmaster who looked as though he had been expecting such news.  Actually, it wouldn't surprise her if Dumbledore had somehow known these tidings even before Arthur or young Percy did.  After all, it always seemed as though the aged headmaster just had a way of knowing things when the rest of the world was blind to it.  In this case, the least he could have done was give a little warning to the rest.  She hadn't even known that the headmaster had even asked young Percy to begin the treacherous job of checking into the Minister - a man that Dumbledore himself had pushed for the high office.

    "And Snape or Hagrid?" Arabella asked, her sharp eyes turning towards Dumbledore.

    "We have not heard back from either," Albus confirmed, masking his own anxiety at his words as the somber mood only grew.  It seemed as though their meetings hadn't seen a note of good news since.... well, probably since the time when their numbers in this inner circle had been greater.  A time when James and Lily Potter sat proudly amongst their number.  A time long past and dead to them now.

    "Then times are truly grave indeed," Arabella murmured, her small lips twisting into a fierce scowl.  "Graver than even we have faced before."

    "We alone are not strong enough to take down He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named," Mundungus added, his voice gruff and grating as he scratched at his balding head, one hand resting lightly against a cane that supported his slight weight.  "Perhaps if the castle unites we will have strength to win against his Death Eaters, but even with a slayer on our side we will be hard pressed to oppose both the Death Eaters and his dark creatures," he stated, his eyes flickering towards the watcher.

    "I am afraid that Mr. Fletcher is correct," Giles agreed, sighing as he pulled his glasses from the bridge of his nose and began polishing them on the hem of his sweater.  "While Buffy is the most accomplished slayer that the Council has seen in ages - perhaps ever - she is still only one girl," he admitted, shrugging slightly as his eyes glanced towards Dumbledore.  "She is remarkable in battle, but even she would be hard pressed when opposed by too many at once.  In this case, Buffy won't be enough to stand against all of his dark creatures in an attack against the school."

    "And that's not even mentioning Voldemort himself," Mad-Eye Moody growled, his one good eye snapping around the room as the group seemed to blanch as one against his blatant use of the Dark Lord's name.  "Who here is strong enough to take him on in battle?  Harry Potter?"

    "No," Sirius quickly cut in, his blue eyes as cold as ice as they bore into the older man.  "Not Harry," he continued, his voice daring someone to disagree.  "He's just a child, and a child that has suffered enough at his hands for our world."

    For a moment, silence seemed to reign on the room before Minerva shifted in the chair she rest in.  "Sirius is right," she finally murmured, her eyes drifting to Albus.  "I have been one of his teachers for the entirety of his magical education here at Hogwarts, and while he is a gifted wizard," she stated, eyes drifting towards the boy's godfather, "aside from his parselmouth abilities, Harry has yet to show any remarkable strength.  He's just a child who was protected by his mother's love for him and thereby spared from You-Know-Who's killing curse."

    "Then if not the boy, who then?" Moody demanded, voicing the one question that the group refused to think on just for the complete and utter lack of an answer.  "No offense meant," he continued, his grizzled head nodding towards Dumbledore, "but defeating Grindewald was one thing, done long ago and at your prime.  Voldemort has already demonstrated a power that surpasses his mentor," he pointed out, his eyes slipping over to lock with Dumbledore.  "Could you take on Voldemort now?"

    Sighing, Dumbledore slowly allowed his eyes to dip down to the old and wrinkled hands that were clasped in his lap before him.  Fifty years ago he had faced the darkest wizard that their world had ever seen.  It had been a fierce battle that had nearly defeated him.  Alastor was right in that he had been in his prime then.  His body had been strong and he could harness the immense power that crackled in his limbs.  But now... even now he could feel that power burning within him, waiting to be used.  But he was old now.  Old and weak and he knew, just as Alastor, that his old frame could no longer control the power that he contained.  He could no longer use it.  Which also meant that... "No, I cannot," he admitted, feeling the despair of those he held closest begin to thicken in the air around them.  "But perhaps... perhaps there is another way," he murmured, his eyes slowly drifting to someplace where no one else could follow.  "Perhaps another way."

    With a nod of his graying head, Remus Lupin made his rounds of the classroom, his eyes sweeping over the bowed heads of the children as they worked through their current assignment - an assignment that was, of course, different for all of them.  With only twelve students and two teachers remaining at Hogwarts, it had been a necessary step to combine the children into one class in order to continue with their studies.  A necessary step, but a difficult one at the same time.  After all, in order to do the children justice, he and Professor McGonagall had to somehow manage to teach seven different years in one classroom - not an easy task no matter how you looked upon it, especially when considering both he and the Headmistress had to teach outside of their favored disciplines.

    At the soft clearing of a throat at the doorway behind him, Professor Lupin turned, his warm gray eyes lighting on the small figure of one Buffy Summers.  "Miss Summers," he greeted, all eyes turning to the small blonde girl, dressed in a slimming black, long-sleeve muggle dress that clung to her small figure and dipped low over her bosom in a flare of red material, black boots clicking on the stone floor as she stepped in the room.

    "Good morning, Professor Lupin," she returned, smiling brilliantly and pausing only as she took in the slanting rays of the sun that lit the small class.  "Rather, afternoon," she corrected with a small shrug, absently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

    Smiling at the girl, Professor Lupin finished the distance to her side and gently clasped his hand on her small shoulder.  "Class, I'm sure that all of you have seen Miss Summers around the castle, but allow me to formally introduce you," he said, amusedly watching as some of the students nearly fell out of their desks as they craned their necks to take in the girl that had been the talk of the castle ever since her arrival.  "Hogwarts is honored to have the aid of The Slayer-"

    "Chosen One," Buffy quickly corrected, her smile faltering for the briefest moment as that simple title continued to bring back so much pain.  Forcing a large smile, Buffy couldn't help but wonder how long it would take - how many months would have to pass - or how many years, before she would finally be able to think of herself as the Slayer once again.  After all, it had been Mr. Lyle that had ruined her namesake for her.  To the Centre, she had been nothing more than the Slayer to them.  They had labeled her as the Slayer, and it had been the Slayer that they had used to kill four members of the Watcher's Council, capture Jarod, and almost kill her friends.  Now, she couldn't hear that word without constantly being reminded of all that she had done while under their control.  She would never be under anyone's control ever again.

    "Yes of course," Lupin quickly agreed, his own smile dimming as he glimpsed something in Buffy's eyes that he had only truly seen one place before - and that was in the eyes of his own best friend.  After all, Sirius Black had carried that same haunted and tortured look upon his escape from Azkaban where he had endured things that most people should never have to.  It was a look that had slowly faded from Sirius' eyes, but one that was never truly gone.  It was also a look that Buffy seemed to be adept at hiding - yet one that made him wonder how someone so young could have such deadened eyes.  While it was true that she was the Slayer and that she most likely faced horrors that he could not even imagine - he had trouble believing that the horrors she faced could be so bad that they would affect her as much as they obviously did.  After all, if that were the case, surely Mr. Giles would share in that pain - yet this pain seemed to be one that was only carried by the small teenage girl - one that seemed much, much older than her years.  Sighing, Remus realized that she carried a burden that had aged her beyond her years - same as with James and Lily's son.

    Shaking his thoughts away, Remus smiled once again.  "In any case, Miss Buffy Summers has volunteered to sit in on a few of our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes in order to lend her unique and first-hand expertise on many of the things that we've covered," he stated as he looked down on her blond head.  "If it's alright with you, Miss Summers, why don't we start by allowing the students to ask some of the questions that I'm sure they've been dying to know the answers to?"

    "Only if you call me Buffy," the blonde returned, smiling at the professor as he nodded in agreement.  Turning her attention back to the class, Buffy stepped back and hopped on the large desk that sat at the head of the room, smoothing her skirt over her legs and adjusting the wide shoulders of her top.  "So, who's got a question?" she asked, eyes finally lifting to the smattering of students that faced her, green eyes inadvertently seeking out the familiar and reassuring smiles of her new friends.

    By now the class had been prepped in the basics of what the Vampire Slayer was and everything that went along with it.  The only stuff they didn't know was the nitty gritty details of being one Buffy Summers.  And that, of course, was what they were curious about.  "How do you locate all of the vampires and demons and stuff?" one boy asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room.  "Do you travel all over?"

    "Actually, all the bad stuff usually comes to me," Buffy explained, smiling wryly at the young boy.  "I live in Sunnydale, California, which happens to be the Hellmouth," she added, and at the blank expressions on most faces, she quickly continued.  "The Hellmouth is exactly what it sounds like - the mouth to Hell.  It's a doorway between Earth and a hell dimension.  It's closed now, but the bad guys keep trying to open it and it's like a magnet for all the bad stuff out there.  They're all drawn to Sunnydale," she finished, waving almost nonchalantly at her words, even though the rest of the class had paled at her description.  Seeing this, Buffy shrugged her shoulders, smiling innocently.  "Maybe it's something that you have to live with on a daily business to believe."

    "If this Hellmouth is as bad as you say it is," Hermione broke in, her tone hesitant as she asked the question that she had been dying to know the answer to since the day that she first learned of Buffy's true identity, "then how can you leave it unattended to be here at Hogwarts?"

    "I didn't," Buffy countered, smirking slightly.  "Faith is watching the Hellmouth - technically, I guess it is her turn."

    "Who's Faith?" Harry asked, watching as a play of emotions filtered across Buffy's features before finally settling on a fond smile.

    "She's the other Chosen One," Buffy stated simply, watching as everyone started in confusion, including Professor Lupin.

    "But I thought the whole point of the Chosen One was that there was only one chosen - one called per generation," Ginny interrupted, looking to Hermione for confirmation of her words.  "You can't have a new slayer until the previous one dies-"

    "Exactly," Buffy said, grinning widely at the group.

    "Which means that you... died?" Harry supplied, paling slightly as Buffy seemed to shrug off his words.  While she had mentioned something to that effect in passing the first night that they met, none of them had truly given it any that.  After all, if there was one thing that they had learned about Buffy, it was that often there were many strange and confusing things that left her lips.  Eventually one learned to dismiss the outside chatter to get to the real meaning behind her words.

    "Three years ago," Buffy confirmed, smirking at the class's stunned expressions.  If she thought that the castle was in an uproar about her before, it would be nothing compared to the talk that would be going on after this all let out.  Sighing, she quickly held up her hand to forestall any further questions.  "Alright, let's try this a different way," she suggested, eyes skipping over to the Professor.  "We'll be here all day going back and forth if we keep doing the question/answer routine - it'll be easier if I just lay it down for you and then if you have any more questions, we can go from there."  When she got no complaints, Buffy settled back for a long ride.

    "Okay, I was called about five years ago, when I was fourteen, and have been fighting the big bad ever since," she stated, almost nonchalantly as she allowed her gaze to drift to the waning sunlight that crept through the tall windows that lined the room.  "That basically means that every night for the last five years I've dealt with the run of the mill vampire, demons, and other dark creatures.  The highlights, I guess you could say," she continued, grinning slightly, "of my career have been burning down my high school gym my first year, destroying the Master in my second, preventing Acathla from sucking this world into Hell my third, and destroying the Mayor of my town who had reached ascension and turned into a nasty snake demon last year - which of course includes blowing up my high school on graduation day," she finished with a bright smile, earning a chuckle or two from the students.  

    "Unfortunately," she continued, a small frown pulling at her lips, "before I could kick the Master's ass my second year, he thoroughly kicked mine," she added while tilting her head to the side, brushing her hair back and showing the scars that marred her slender neck.  "He killed me long enough to call in my replacement, Kendra, but not well enough to count me out for good," Buffy explained, her expression dimming as she thought back to the girl that had been cut down by Drusilla.  "Kendra was killed a year later," Buffy murmured, her eyes slowly drifting down until they locked on her hands, clasped before her.  Even after all this time, it was still difficult to think of what had happened that night - of all that she had lost.  Sighing, she quickly shook the heavy thoughts away and forced a smile for the silent class.  "Her death caused her replacement to be called, Faith, who's currently watching the Hellmouth and freeing me up to come and try and help out here," she finished, her smile firmly back in place and the dark memories banished to the furthest corner of her mind until they could be properly dealt with later.  "Thus explaining why we're now the Chosen Two, rather than the Chosen One.  Any other questions?"

    Instantly a score of hands shot in the air, punctuated by a volley of questions from students who didn't bother with the whole waiting for their turn.  "How'd you die?"  "What's a Master?"  "Who's Acathla?"  "How'd you blow up your school?"

    Smiling amusedly at the children's enthusiasm and the way that Buffy fielded their questions, almost tirelessly, Remus reclined back against the far wall.  Five years.  A slayer for five years.  He couldn't help but be impressed, for he knew for a fact that most Slayers didn't even survive their first.  The girl was good - that much was obvious.  And thanks to Dumbledore, they had her on their side in the fight against Lord Voldemort.  Perhaps... perhaps that would be enough. 

    Pensively, he watched the small girl as her gaze drifted around the room, smiling at each student in turn as she answered their eager questions... yet always allowing her eyes to linger on one student in particular.  Straightening slightly, Remus watched as his young ward's glittering green eyes remained locked on the girl, a slight smile lifting his lips.  At the very least, it seemed that at least one good thing would come of her visit.

To be continued...