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: First off, a huge thanks once more to adb, Kiwi, Harry, Rosie, Tara, Jeanne, Rob, Selene, buffy addict, tika, and Empress for your reviews!  I find myself checking my email at least two times a day, seeing if anyone else has added their thoughts - so, thank you for your time and effort on that!  In addition, it seems that a common question from the last round of reviews was whether or not we'd be seeing Draco or any of the Malfoys anytime soon. *grins wickedly* Oh, at least one of them will be making a rather impromptu visit soon enough - very soon enough.  In addition, some answers are revealed in this chapter - just don't flame me as I confirm some of your suspicions.  In my own defense, in my own twisted logic, it had to be done.

X-Lander: Hmm... maybe I didn't make that clear.  Yes, in my 'verse there are far more wizards and witches in the Order of Phoenix, but those that were meeting are what Dumbledore would consider the innermost circle - the upper echelon, so to speak.  After all, for the big meetings they can't very well invite everyone! ;p Anyway, on with the show!

"For something to live, something must be sacrificed."
-The X-Files Game-

    With the waning of the afternoon, the bright May sunshine beat down upon the green and grassy grounds of Hogwarts, shining in all of its glory with nary a cloud in the sky to ruin the beautiful spring day.  A spring day that people of all ages hurried to take advantage of, breaking free of the castle confines for the first time in months; mothers, fathers, and children young and old lounging on the grassy grounds.  It was a picture that was quite unusual for Hogwarts, but one that was welcomed nonetheless.  After all, it was a day in which everyone could almost forget the reasons that drove them all to the safe haven to be found within the most prestigious wizarding school in all of Europe, under the gentle guidance of one Headmaster Albus Dumbledore - a wizard who was currently lounging beside the calm waters of the lake, conversing with the assorted merpeople in vividly bright purple robes.

    From her position across campus from the eccentric wizard, Buffy watched this exchange through wide green eyes.  "And you're sure that I can't slay them?" she asked, grimacing as a particularly slimy green mer-person broke the surface of the water, its arms moving wildly about its body before diving back down below the surface of the glittering pool.

    "Quite positive," Hermione assured absently from beside her, a large textbook spread before her on the green grass and thoroughly grateful for the brisk breeze that made the beating sun just that much more bearable, her stifling black robe lying forgotten on the grass beside her.

    "Because back in Sunnydale they would definitely fall under the category of those which I would slay first, ask Giles about later," the blonde continued as she finally turned away from the odd sight, idly adjusting her small white tank over her tan shorts before renewing her stake-sharpening efforts.

    "Which is why Giles continues to patrol with you each night," Harry added with a small grin, glancing up from his game of wizard's chess in time to catch the small blonde's scowl.  The past few weeks had passed almost in a blur for the group at Hogwarts - living in a little protective bubble while the world passed by unnoticed without them.  Each day was a monotonous routine of classes, homework, meals with family and friends, and time spent just hanging out and having fun.  It didn't take long for Buffy and her watcher to become integrated into that tight-knit circle, their afternoons becoming intermingled before their nights brought them along different paths.  Thus, it was no secret that Buffy continued to argue against her watcher's persistent presence for each and every one of her patrols, despite her many arguments of the freedom that she had experienced back in Sunnydale.  It was as though all of her words fell on deaf ears.

    "Can't even understand the simple concept of a watcher, i.e. one who watches," she grumbled, almost comically before returning his grin.  After awakening a few hours ago, Buffy had grabbed a small blade and headed outdoors, quickly stumbling upon the group of teens that were scattered on the grassy lawns of Hogwarts.  Per usual, Hermione was lost in some book or another while Neville and Ginny flirted shamelessly beside her, Harry and Ron engrossed in yet another game of chess - Ron winning, as always.  Within minutes she had gathered enough wood from the forest and joined the little group, absently shaping her favorite weapon while the conversation drifted from one lazy topic to another.

    Sighing, Buffy stilled her hands and tilted her head back, allowing the sun's golden rays to warm her skin.  Sometimes, if the breeze stilled just enough, she could almost imagine that she was back in Sunnydale and that the rustling of the leaves in the forest was really the sound of the waves crashing on the nearby beaches.  Almost.  Almost.  Smiling softly, Buffy allowed her mind to drift to thoughts of the friends that she hadn't seen in so long, her mind inevitably drifting to everything that she had left behind in that small California town...

    Shaking the thoughts away, Buffy opened her green eyes and allowed them to settle on the assortment of old fashioned brooms that littered the lawn around them.  "So what's the what with the brooms, anyway?" she asked, remembering her unasked question from weeks ago.  With the lazy afternoon sun beating down upon them, she hadn't even thought to ask why so many of the people that littered Hogwarts' lawn seemed to carry the strange cleaning tool.

    "We were flying earlier," Ron replied absently, a fierce look of concentration on his face as he slowly eyed the board laid out before him.

    "Flying?" Buffy parroted back, a slim brow raising as she eyed the brooms skeptically.  "You're kidding, right?" she asked, thinking back to one of her favorite childhood shows, Bewitched.  But as the group slowly raised their eyes from their assorted tasks and met her gaze evenly, Buffy had her answer.  "You mean you guys can really fly?  On brooms?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch as she stared at the brooms with a new eye, a slow smile lifting her lips.

    "Of course we can," Ron confirmed, smiling despite himself at the wonder that was plastered across Buffy's face.  Sometimes Buffy's eyes made her look so much older than the rest of them - eyes haunted with a look that seemed to separate her from the group at times.  But now, with her face lit up with child-like wonder - well, she looked so young that he couldn't help but share a grin with his friends.  "Would you like to see?" he asked, the game forgotten as he quickly climbed to his feet, grabbing his old Shooting Star broom from the ground beside him.

    Bouncing to her feet, Buffy could only watch as Ron put one leg around the slim wood and then push off lightly from the ground, the broom quickly lifting from the ground and carrying him high into the cloudless blue sky.  "Wow," she murmured, the words an understatement to the wonder she felt as he seemed to float effortlessly in the sky, his broom reacting to his slightest touch and causing him to zoom dizzyingly high above the grassy grounds.

    "Show off," Ginny laughed, rolling her eyes at her brother's antics as she snuggled beside her boyfriend.

    "But that's amazing!" Buffy countered, a large smile lifting her lips as she felt lighter just by watching the redhead zoom around the castle grounds.

    "No, if you want to see amazing, you should see Harry on the broom," Neville countered as he grinned at the teen who continued to lounge beside the forgotten chess board.

    "Harry, you fly too?" Buffy asked, her eyes drifting down until she met Harry's green eyes.

    "Does he fly?" Hermione asked, shaking her head with a pained smile.  "Harry's probably the best flier that Hogwarts has seen in one hundred years," she said, grinning as Harry blushed a deep scarlet at her words.  She would never be a fan of the broom, but that didn't mean that she couldn't recognize talent when she saw it.  And if there was one thing to be said about Harry Potter, aside from his connection with You-Know-Who, it was his talent when it came to flying.  It was impossible not to be awed by it.

    "I wouldn't say that," Harry countered with a weak grin as he slowly climbed to his feet, absently brushing the grass from his trousers before lifting his eyes to the small girl beside him.  "But, if you'd like I can take you up," he offered, feeling his ears begin to burn as Buffy beamed up at him.

    "I'd love to!" she quickly agreed, her eyes shining as the lanky teen bent down to retrieve his broom, the polished wood gleaming under the sun's bright rays.  "But if you drop me, you're so in trouble, Mister," she warned, wagging a slender finger before his eyes as he mounted his broom, indicating for her to sit behind him.

    "I won't drop you," he promised, flushing even more as Buffy's small arms wrapped loosely around his waist.  Then, ignoring the snickers from his gathered friends, Harry kicked off from the ground, the broom lifting slowly into the air as Buffy squealed, her grip tightening almost painfully as she pressed herself flush against his back, her head burrowing against the soft material of his shirt.  "But I do need to breathe," he grunted, her hold loosening slightly as she finally lifted her head and took in the ground that was rapidly falling beneath them.

    "Harry," she murmured, her voice filled with awe and unable to say more as she felt the cool wind ruffle her hair, billowing it gently around her face and shoulders.  And even as they rose even more gently into the cloudless sky, Buffy felt her confidence return as she realized that she trusted the boy that sat before her completely.  He wouldn't let anything happen to her and she knew that if she fell, he would catch her.  Amazed by this, Buffy cocked her head and looked at the messy black hair that ruffled before her, caught in the light breeze.  Only three weeks earlier Buffy had told Percy Weasley that trust was something that people had to earn from her - that she no longer gave it so willingly.  Yet in three short weeks Buffy had integrated herself so completely with Harry and his friends that she found herself walking along that narrow bridge of trust.  Smiling at the thought, she tentatively leaned back, closing her eyes and reveling in the sun's warm rays.

    "I'm afraid to admit," Ron began as he gently landed on the ground beside his friends, his eyes following theirs to the couple that sat drifting on the broom so high above, "that our boy Harry is completely smitten."

    "You think?" Ginny returned, her voice laced with sarcasm that was belied by her fond smile.  As a squeal rent the air, she watched as Harry's broom dipped and began to plummet to the ground, Buffy's blond hair trailing behind them like the tail of a comet as the raven-haired boy changed their angle of descent in a move so daring that it only could have been pulled off by Harry Potter, the broom arcing once more into the sky before zipping in dizzying circles around the castle.  "And it's about time, too," she said, unknowingly echoing Ron's words of a few weeks earlier, her hand seeking out Neville's as Buffy's laughter rang out over the castle grounds.

    Smiling in triumph at his sister's words, Ron flashed a grin at Hermione before allowing his eyes to trace his friend's progress in the sky for a few minutes more.  And then, before he even realized what he was doing, he found his own hand tangled in Hermione's, a soft smile lifting her lips and saying so much more as she abandoned her book and moved until she was settled beside him, his arm draping across her shoulders and pulling her close.  Together, the two couples watched Buffy and Harry twirl about above them as the sun continued its trek across the sky, stopping only as its rays began to dip below the far horizon.  As the two finally settled on the ground, the unusual sound of Buffy's laughter ringing around them and a bright grin lifting Harry's lips, Ron couldn't help but think of how today had to be the best day that any of them had had in too long to remember.  Harry's smile and Buffy's laughter alone were testament to that fact.  Then again, Ron always did have a problem with speaking too soon.

    "Blimey, Harry," Neville said, grinning widely at the two, "it's too bad that we don't have a quidditch team anymore.  I bet Buffy would make an incredible beater!" he chirped, his smile faltering only as the weight of his words became apparent to everyone.  "Oh - I-I didn't," he began, his voice trembling as Ginny squeezed his hand reassuringly, all eyes turning to Ron as the redhead paled, his eyes dimming visibly before he awkwardly stumbled to his feet and began making his way across the grass at a fast trot.

    Confused, Buffy felt her smile slip as Hermione quickly abandoned her place on the grass and hurried after her boyfriend, Ginny following not far behind.  "Okay, what did I miss?" she asked, absently rubbing her hands on her arms to ease her prickled skin as the cool of the coming night began to settle around them.

    Sighing softly, Harry reached down and picked up his abandoned robe, draping it without thought over Buffy's shoulders.  "Fred and George Weasley," he began softly, feeling his eyes begin to burn in that familiar way, "Ron and Ginny's older twin brothers - two years ahead of us - were beaters on the Gryffindor quidditch team up until their graduation two years ago."  Shaking his head, Harry allowed his eyes to drift over to the spot where both Ginny and Hermione knelt around Ron, their arms wrapped around each other in a familiar embrace.  "They were killed in a Death Eater attack on their joke shop just after the start of last year," he said simply, remembering the two boys that had continued to make people laugh, even as their world began to come apart at the seams around them.

    "Oh no," Buffy whispered, her heart tightening at the admission as she turned wide eyes to the trio.  "I - I didn't know," she murmured, finally understanding the looks and hidden meanings that she had sensed in the Weasley family.  To lose two of their own... it was a loss that she could sympathize with.

    "You won't find a person here at Hogwarts who hasn't lost someone that they knew or loved in this war," Neville added softly, his expression distant as he slowly gathered his and Ginny's things. 

    And from the way his own eyes seemed to brighten with heartfelt emotion, Buffy knew that Neville wasn't just speaking of the Weasley twins.  Instead, the shy teen seemed to prove Harry's point.  Biting her lip, Buffy absently drew the warm cloak around her shoulders as she realized, perhaps for the first time, why she felt as though she fit in so well here.  The castle was filled with battle-weary refugees - all lost souls who had to face their worst nightmares and come out on top... or at least out to the point where they had no choice but to keep going, day by awful day and just make the most of it.  They were all survivors - even if the things and people they were surviving were losses so great that it was crippling to those who kept on.

    "We should get back before Sirius sends out a search party," Harry said casually as he mounted his broom and lifted off from the ground, hovering absently before the others.  And even though his words were meant to lessen the tension and to bring back some levity to the wonderful day they all had, he couldn't help the small scowl that his own words brought.  After all, Sirius' over-protective streak was another trait that was quickly becoming notorious amongst the castle residents.  It seemed that Harry's penchant for finding trouble didn't sit too well with the godfather who was left with the burden of trying to keep one Harry Potter safe.

    Sharing a sympathetic smile with Harry, Buffy slowly nodded her agreement before her eyes drifted back to the trio, settled on the grass a few short yards away.  "What about-" she began, her voice breaking off as a pained groan split the air behind her.  Turning quickly, Buffy was moving towards Harry even as his face paled of all color, one hand pressed firmly against the lightning-shaped scar that marred his forehead, eyes pinched closed against some sort of pain.  "Harry, what's-" she began again, only to scramble forward as he tumbled from his broom, easily catching him and settling the teen's body on the cushion of soft grass, his head pillowing in her lap.  "Harry?" she asked again, her voice growing panicked as Harry groaned again, seemingly lost to their world.

    "Ginny, Neville, go get Sirius!" Ron quickly ordered as he and Hermione fell to their knees beside their fallen friend, having been alerted by Buffy's terrified cries.

    "Ron, what's wrong with him?" she quickly asked, her small hands easily holding Harry down as his body began to shake.

    "It's his connection with You-Know-Who," the redhead explained as his sympathetic eyes swept over Harry's trembling form.  Even though Harry had gone through this so many times in the last few years, it was still difficult to watch.  So hard to sit there and know that his best friend was in so much pain and that he was powerless to do anything to help.

    "As near as Dumbledore can figure out," Hermione added, her voice soft, "Harry is connected to Him through his curse scar that reflected the death curse when he was a baby," she explained, absently seeking out Ron's warm and calloused hand.  "Whenever You-Know-Who feels some kind of intense emotion Harry has a vision of You-Know-Who and this happens," she finished, indicating Harry's prone body with a wave of her hand.

    Feeling herself begin to shake, Buffy quickly closed her eyes against the sight of Harry's pain.  She couldn't do this.  Buffy was a person of action.  When there was something wrong or when someone was in trouble, she would go in there and kick someone's ass and save the day.  It was what she did.  She didn't just sit around and watch while someone was in pain, helpless to do anything.  Fighting the urge to run away from this pain, Buffy quickly opened her eyes, wincing as Harry nearly ground the heel of his hand into his forehead.  "Stop, you're going to hurt yourself," she murmured, absently reaching forward and easily pulling his hand away from his forehead - recoiling at the sight of the blood that oozed from the vividly bright red scar.  "Oh God," she murmured, her voice hoarse as she lifted haunted eyes to his two friends.  "Can't someone do anything for him?  I mean, you have all this magic," she whispered, hating the tremor in her voice - at the weakness that it showed.

    Biting her lip, Hermione locked eyes with Ron's before turning back to the small blonde.  "Before he disappeared," she began, her voice hesitant, "Harry said that Professor Snape created a potion that would neutralize the link while under the potion."

    "So why doesn't he take it?" Buffy quickly retorted, lashing out because she couldn't just let it all just sit inside of her - all of the frustration.

    "Because Harry thinks the pain is worth it if he finds out something useful..."

    The cold was all around him - in him - infusing his limbs with a core of ice that would never melt, no matter how warm the fire that flickered before him nor how potent the potion that he would blend to ease his aging limbs.  The cold was in the air he breathed - dank and wet with moisture from the deep earth's walls - in the feel of the stone that made up his stone fortress - his home, his prison - and in the people that he surrounded himself with - allies and enemies all.  The cold was all around him, and somehow Severus Snape, current Death Eater and former Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, knew that even when he abandoned this farce and returned to his true home, the cold would never again leave.  Pushing his morbid thoughts away, Snape watched through slitted holes in his mask as the Dark Lord seethed on his equally dark throne, red snake eyes burning with anger as his long nails tapped on the black arm of his chair.

    "I don't want excuses, Lucius," the Lord's deep voice hissed as he surged forward, eyes burning into the tall man that stood before him.  "I want answers."

    "Master, there have been reports that something has been destroying our forces in the Forbidden Forest outside of Hogwarts," Malfoy Senior quickly replied, his tone schooled in just the right mix of confidence and reverence for the being that sat before him.  "Nothing has survived an encounter in order to provide more details."

    Slitted nostrils flaring, Voldemort quickly leaned back against the hard planes of his throne, his pencil-thin lips spread in a hard frown.  "Then Dumbledore is aware of our efforts," he mused, red eyes narrowing slightly.  And then, with an imperious wave of his hand that instantly caused all Death Eaters to recoil in fear, the Dark Lord smiled.  "It matters not," he declared, his tone even as his snake, Nagini, pulsed and writhed at his feet.  "See that a group of our best are sent to the Forest," he ordered, a slow smile lifting his deadened lips.  "Find out what's been at work there.  And kill it."

    Time seemed to pass with a snail's pace as the bright afternoon sunshine finally faded into the falling dusk, the trio huddled on the dewy grounds with Harry's limp form spread out before them.  Minutes passed and still Harry refused to waken from whatever place his connection had drawn him to, his face pale and scrunched in agony, blood seeping from his scar and visible to all as Buffy firmly prevented his hands from doing any more damage to the puckered skin.  Soon both Hermione and Ron lifted their wands, casting a lumos charm and sending their shadowed world into light, anxious eyes locked on Harry's prone form.  Then, just as Buffy thought that she would go crazy if things remained in that tense frame a moment longer, Harry's body began to relax, his green eyes blinking open and staring owlishly at their worried faces.  "Harry?" she asked, her breath hitching and catching in her throat as his eyes seemed to roll back in his head before finding focus once more.

    "Voldemort knows," he moaned, his voice cracking as Harry strained to form a coherent thought outside of the pain that threatened to split his skull in two.  "He knows that something's in the forest, killing his beasts," he murmured, his voice a slur as his green eyes found focus for just a moment, locking on Buffy's face.  "He's going to kill you," he whispered before darkness claimed him, his body finally succumbing to the pain and granting him relief from its bite.

    Stunned, Buffy opened her mouth and then closed it again as frantic voices began to echo in the dark night, a small contingent of wizards spilling from the castle and swooping down upon their location.  Feeling as though she was in a daze, Buffy watched as both Hermione and Ron stood to meet the onrush of wizards, only moving herself as Sirius leaned low and scooped his limp godson into his arms.  And then they were gone, everyone's voices crying out and overlapping with one another as they headed back towards the castle, the Boy Who Lived firmly entrenched in their safe bubble - leaving Buffy alone and forgotten in the dark night.

    Shivering slightly in the chill air, Buffy drew the ends of Harry's dark cloak around her bare shoulders, absently pulling the cloth against her face as she inhaled the musky boy smell that was all Harry.  Sighing, she allowed her eyes to drift to the familiar forest that had become a second home, of sorts, to her in the weeks that she had hunted their depths.  Just as the many cemeteries in Sunnydale had become her hunting grounds, so had Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest.  And it seemed as though the game was up.  How many times had Giles drilled the fact into her head that her placement at Hogwarts, known only to those who resided in the castle, was one of Dumbledore's greatest strategic moves?  The very fact that Voldemort wouldn't know about her presence until it was too late, and the fact that she was destroying his force, night by night, was a pivotal part of whatever grand scheme the old wizard was cooking up.  And now the cat was out of the bag.  If Harry was to be believed, Voldemort, if not knowing exactly who she was, did indeed know that something was out there.  The surprise was gone and Voldemort wanted her blood.

    Shrugging her small shoulders, Buffy smiled at that thought.  It wouldn't be the first time that a Big Bad was out for her blood, nor, she bet, would it be the last.  With that thought, Buffy abandoned the dark night and slowly made her way up the steep steps of the castle before stepping into its massive grand entrance - where she was met by a stern looking witch whose expression seemed to disapproving, even when she was smiling.

    "Miss Summers," Professor McGonagall greeted with a small nod, "Headmaster Dumbledore would like to see you in his office."

    Sighing the sigh of a martyr about to be led to her death, Buffy felt her shoulders slump as she followed the tall witch up the curving staircase and to the gargoyle statue that usually hid the wizard's office - only to find the curving staircase already opened and revealed.  "Not a good sign," she murmured as she left the witch's side and began up the stone stairs, only lifting her head as she cleared the last step, the open doorway revealing Giles, pacing in a frenzied line.  "News travels fast around here," she commented, smiling wryly as her watcher pivoted towards her, a large frown pulling at his lips.  Rolling her eyes at his obvious agitation, she lightly brushed by him and settled into one of the large chairs that faced Dumbledore's office.

    "We have been told of Harry's vision," Dumbledore returned gravely, confirming Buffy's suspicions as he steepled his fingers before him.  "Buffy, Lord Voldemort is aware of your efforts, and that makes your job that much more dangerous."

    "It's no big," Buffy quickly returned, her tone flippant as she shrugged casually - a shrug that instantly caused her watcher to nearly catapult himself into the chair beside her, his body rigid with tension.

    "Buffy, I don't want you out there anymore," he cut in, his tone brisk and cold as he leaned forward, eyes boring into her own.

    Startled, Buffy felt her temper spark at his words.  "Geez, overreact much?" she growled, quickly crossing her arms across her chest as she glared at her watcher.

    Ignoring her words, Giles frowned at his ward.  "Voldemort will be openly targeting you-"

    "Well he was bound to find out about me sooner or later," Buffy cut in, scowling at his show of over-protectiveness.  For crying out loud, she was the Slayer.  This was her job.  Her sworn duty!  He was never this bad - certainly not when he tried to send her to her death against the Master when she was only fifteen!  "Giles, what's with you?" she asked, voicing her frustrations out loud for the first time.  "I've been going up against the Big Bad every night for the last five years!  I've faced down the Master and the Mayor - I even sent Angel to Hell for this freaking world!  It doesn't matter what's happened before because nothing has changed!  I'm still the Slayer and this is still my duty!" she cried, her face flushed and her breathing heavy.  And as a heavy silence fell over the room, Buffy immediately regretted her words as she slowly shook her head against the stares.  "And it's not like it's anything new," she continued before Giles could launch his own retort.  "It's public knowledge in the demon world that there's a Slayer in Sunnydale.  People have been after my blood for years," she added, her voice quieting.

    "It's different here," Giles insisted before taking a slow breath, willing himself to regain some measure of calm.  "Voldemort is not just a vampire who will try to ambush you," he explained, falling back on cold and calm reason and logic.  "He's much more dangerous."

    "Listen," Buffy cut in, wearily rubbing away the ache that was already beginning to settle right behind her eyes, "all Moldy-Wart really knows is that there's something in the forest that's killing his forces.  He doesn't know that it's a slayer.  He doesn't know it's me," she said, her tone even as she finally tore her eyes away from her watcher and met Dumbledore's blue eyes - eyes that, for the first time, she couldn't read.

    "It is your decision as to what you want to do now," he supplied, his eyes skipping to his old student before finally settling on the small girl that contained so much power.  "We will all understand if you wanted to return to-"

    "I'm only gonna say it one more time," Buffy interrupted, her tone cold as she stood from the chair, her features dropping into a hard mask.  "Nothing has changed," she said, eyes glaring into her watcher before she swept from the room, Harry's cloak trailing around her slim form.

    Wincing as the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind his slayer's small form, Giles could only shake his head as he questioned, for the hundredth time, his decision to uproot her from all that she knew to bring her to this place.  Until now, he had thought it the best decision that he had ever made.  While he knew that she missed her friends and Sunnydale, and the support that Xander, Willow, Oz and Faith had always given her, the changes that were evident in his slayer more than made up for any lingering doubts.  She was getting better - he knew this.  While she still refused to talk about what had happened during those long months of her imprisonment, or of what happened after she finally broke free of Lyle's hold, his slayer was beginning to smile more and drift away to her thoughts less.  He had even seen her laughing earlier today.  Laughing.  He couldn't even remember the last time she had actually laughed - laughed as though for a moment she had forgotten that any of the past year had ever happened.  Before his Slayer had ever been touched by darkness.  This place and this fight against evil had been good for her... but that was before he had ever had to deal with the fact that Buffy may actually be in real danger.  He knew that she could handle the various dark creatures that polluted the Forbidden Forest, but an aimed attack on her by Voldemort's forces?

    "She is a remarkable woman," Dumbledore said into the heavy silence, reminding Giles that he wasn't alone with his musings.

    Feeling his frustration sharpen into a spike of anger, Giles allowed his gaze to settle on his old headmaster.  "A foolish girl," he corrected, his tone frosty as he slowly abandoned his chair.  "She doesn't understand her own mortality," he murmured as he began towards the door, his hand freezing on the knob as Dumbledore's soft words reached his ears.

    "On the contrary, I think that is something that she is quite aware of."

To be continued...