The Coming Battle
Disclaimer: harry potter and co. are owned by jk rowling, and the idea of the the slayer and a lot of the myth is stolen from joss whedon.
Summary: She's not a normal girl. Power runs through her veins. Something ancient, something dark. And her battle is coming...
Setting: Alternate Univ. 7th year.

A/N - here is where you forget most of what you know about hermione. she's still a bookworm, but isnt friends with harry and ron. everything else up through goblet of fire happened though. if she seems out of character, remember that she's a different person than the one we know and love :)

and if you're reading, please please please lemme know what you think by reviewing? reviews are good for the soul. that, and the motivation for writing, lol.

*****
Chapter One - Past and Present
*****

At some point in her life, Hermione Granger had been a normal girl. She went to school, she played in the back yard, and she grew up with the hope that her dreams of magic and wizards could, in fact, be real if only she believed hard enough.

She had always been clever, preferring books to playing with the neighbor children. Her peers at school saw her as somewhat as an outcast with her quiet personality and her reluctance to join in with the crowds. Making friends had never been her strong point, though early in life she had indeed tried, to no avail. She didn't mind, however.

And so the young Hermione spent her childhood alone. Nothing terribly exciting ever happened, and each day passed as calmly as the one before in her comfortable, modest London home.

Then, when she was eleven, her entire calm existence was altered. A letter, a simple, cream colored piece of parchment, arrived on her doorstep. This in itself wouldn't have been too odd, but the letter was delivered by a large brown owl with amber eyes.

The fact that an owl was delivering the post was a curiosity to Hermione rather than something a bit scary, as her poor, trembling mother clearly thought. Though to be fair, the owl had appeared on the doorstep at the exact moment that Mrs. Granger stepped out to retrieve the morning paper.

No, the owl did not frighten Hermione. Her clever mind saw it as something to study. To figure out why this creature would carry a letter.

But her curiosity was forgotten in place of another mystery. The letter was addressed to her.

Had Hermione been a sociable girl, one would have thought the owl carried an invitation to an extravagant child's birthday party. Unfortunately, since she had no real friends, the possibility was highly unlikely.

The letter, however, was even more interesting than twenty birthday invitations could have hoped to be. Magic was real. And not only that, but she had the ability to do it.

So Hermione Granger left the life she knew and was whisked off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was eager to learn, and secretly, she was excited about the prospect of a new life.

But life didn't change as much as she had hoped. Yes, she was learning how to brew potions and turn silverware into animals. Yes, she lived in a wonderful castle and owned a wand. She still thirsted for knowledge and spent countless hours in the library reading everything she could.

Despite all the things that changed, though, one remained the same. She was still alone. When the child arrived at Hogwarts, she had tried to make friends with her fellow students. She was friendly to the girls in her dorm, to the famous Harry Potter, and to the students in other houses. But she was invisible to them. They only spoke to her if she said something first, but she was quickly forgotten when a new topic of conversation was begun. She wasn't teased, though often she wondered if that would have been far better than being ignored. Even the infamous Draco Malfoy had never said a word to her about her bushy hair or large teeth.

Eventually, Hermione gave up, throwing herself into her studies and receiving top marks in all of her subjects.

And so that was how several years passed. Her professors were the only people that acknowledged her presence, and she ate alone in the dining hall, surrounded by books. The quiet life that had been changed by an owl with a letter returned, and she welcomed the comforting certainty of it.

Then, in the summer after her fourth year, something changed again. Something that would affect her for the rest of her life.

One lazy afternoon in July, as Hermione lay on the grass with one of her schoolbooks, Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Potions Master Professor Snape apparated directly in front of her.

Naturally, the frizzy haired fourteen year old jumped several feet in the air in surprise. Dumbledore smiled gently at her, and helped her to her feet as Snape stood silently with his ever-present scowl planted firmly on his face.

Hermione gasped, gaping at the older wizard. What are you doing here?

The bearded man took her hand and smiled again. We have matters to discuss with you, Miss Granger.

Warily, the teen looked past Dumbledore to the menacing Professor Snape. Does this... I mean, does this have anything to do with... You Know Who?

You may say his name, Miss Granger, Dumbledore answered. Though, no. This has to do with you.

The unlikely trio proceeded into the modest Granger home, where Hermione made several cups of tea.

Miss Granger, Professor Snape began. I will not put this off. You are a Slayer. He proceeded to tell her the story.

Thousands of years ago, demons freely walked the earth without opposition. A small group of men - Shaman, they were called - decided to fight back after their village was attacked. These Shaman were powerful men, and they decided to take a girl and chain her to the earth, imbuing her with the power to defeat evil. This power gave the girl amazing strength, skill, and the ability to heal rapidly, though not much more. At the time, weapons and battle tactics were crude, and the sole job of the girl was to kill the demons. They called her the Slayer.

The life of the Slayer was dangerous. She fought with intense passion, living as a nomad and relishing the fight. But too quickly the girl was lost, killed in battle.

The Shaman had foreseen this. So when the first Slayer died, another girl was Chosen. Not by the men, but by the power of the magic they had put into her.

And that was how things progressed for years. With the death of each Slayer, another was Chosen. Only one girl at a time. She alone stood against the forces of darkness.

Several years after the first Slayer was created, the descendants of the original tribe of Shaman decided to create a group to help the girl. They formed a council, and called themselves Watchers.

The Watchers began to help her by showing her how to fight, to plan, and how to survive. With the help of a Seer, they sought out the girls in the world who had the possibility of becoming a Slayer, and trained them on the off chance that one of them would be Chosen. Most were never called, but they became well trained fighters against evil. New Watchers are being brought in all the time. Those that are not assigned to a potential Slayer help out by doing research, looking into prophecies regarding the Chosen One, and working behind the scenes, so to speak.

With the Potions Master's pause, Dumbledore turned to Hermione. Professor Snape, you see, is a Watcher.

With wide eyes, Hermione tried to take everything in.

she muttered, confusion clouding her features. If Watchers seek out girls who have the possibility of becoming the Slayer, why haven't I been training?

Dumbledore and Snape looked at each other, but it was Snape who answered. I am afraid, Miss Granger, that you thoroughly gave us quite a surprise when you were called.

At the still confused look on the teen's face, Dumbledore continued. Never before has a Slayer been from the magical community. They have always been muggles. In fact, no Slayer has ever had any magic in her, save her power and strength. She has the ability to do the most simple spells that feed off of her power instead of magic, such as the giving of that strength to a dying victim, but otherwise, Slayers have never been able to do more.

Dumbledore went on, eyes twinkling, You'll find that most Watchers are in fact Wizards or Witches.

Hermione frowned. But that doesn't make any sense. If magic was used to create the Slayer, why isn't she a witch? Or at least a magical being?

Professor Snape sighed, annoyed. Miss Granger, you'll find that this is one instance where no one has all the answers. The few documents we have on the early Slayers were written by the first Council, told to them by their ancestors, making them unreliable. In any case, it does not matter why the other Slayers could not do magic. What does matter is that you can.

The silence that stretched through the room was tense as Hermione thought about everything.

she asked, looking up at Dumbledore. Who will be my Watcher?

The old man's smile grew. Why Miss Granger, I apologize. I thought that was clear.

He gestured to the dark potions master next to him. Professor Snape will be your Watcher.

****
Present Day
****

Seventeen year old Hermione Granger winced as she quietly opened the heavy door to the potions classroom and limped inside. She made her way to the cabinet that held the ingredients, and running her fingers over a particular spot on the woodwork, she pushed a well used knot. The entire cabinet swung open, revealing an arched entry into a large, well lit room.

Muggle training equipment stood proudly in the room. Several punching bags hung from the ceiling. Weapons of all kinds decorated the walls and filled trunks and cabinets. Weights and several exercise machines stood along one wall. The wall across from them was essentially a large bookcase, filled to the brim with every book on demons, lore, and the dark forces imaginable. There were even several rare books on magic that would have never been found in the Hogwarts library.

Several books had been removed from their respective spots on the shelves and were strewn about the long table that stood in front of the bookshelf. Seated in a chair at that table, surrounded by books, Professor Snape sat sleeping.

Hermione smiled softly. Three years ago, if someone had told her that the harsh Professor, legendary in his cruelty, would become like a father to her, she probably would have laughed.

But things change, and he had indeed come to care for her like a daughter. He rarely showed it, treating her like just another student outside of the training room, and ruthlessly pushing her to work harder within.

Every now and then, however, it showed. He would worry about her constantly, hugging her tight if she showed up late and beaten after patrolling the Forbidden Forest. When she was unable to save someone, or when things got almost too hard to bear, he would hold her close and whisper nonsense as she cried.

Yes, he cared about her. And he waited up for her every single night, sitting in this large room until she appeared, just to make sure that she had survived another day of being the Slayer.

Hermione said, gently prodding the sleeping man's shoulder.

he asked groggily, lifting his head from it's resting place on a rather fat book. Back from patrol?

The girl sat herself on one of the comfortable couches, clutching her bleeding arm as Snape searched gathered the bandages. There is officially one less Ragnock Demon feeding off the Hogsmeade citizens.

The Potions Master smiled one of his rare smiles as he wrapped her wounds. I take that to mean you killed it? A nod was his answer. Very good. There we are, he stated, standing back to survey his handiwork. That should heal quickly.

Hermione nodded again, and bent down to wrap her ankle.

Snape studied her posture. Should I inform Professor McGonagall that you won't be attending her class this morning?

The school's professors knew she was the Slayer. They had to. She was often missing classes, because evil didn't always choose early evening to appear. Sometimes, it would come out during one of her lessons, and often, Hermione was out until dawn fighting. Evil was fickle like that.

Because of this, she didn't have as much time as she would have liked to study. Her professors had all given notices that, due to the fact she saved the world daily, she had the option of skipping homework assignments if she already knew what she was doing. And indeed, she always knew what she was doing. Even with her late nights patrolling, and lack of sleep, she maintained the highest grades in her class.

In a way, it was good that she had no friends. She couldn't tell anyone else her secret, and all of the classes she missed would have been hard to explain away. No, it was best that she was invisible to her peers.

Of course, not having anyone, save the often scowling potions professor to share her burden with only made it that much harder to bear.

The Slayer glanced at a tall grandfather clock ticking away in the corner, and was surprised to find that it was nearly five in the morning.

Yeah. Tell her I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna sleep away the morning. Hermione answered, slowing making her way to the fireplace. I'll be up for Potions, though. I don't think my Professor would be too happy if I missed it again. He's a bit surly.

Snape scowled.

Hermione grinned at him. I'll see you in class, Professor. Taking a handful of powder, she threw it into the fireplace, and within moments stood in a fireplace near Gryffindor Tower. To avoid prying eyes, they had decided to not floo into the common room. They'd learned that the hard way after Harry Potter and Ron Weasley nearly caught her emerging from the fire.

Professor Snape watched his charge go, still scowling. He was only surly because the silly girl came in late often, not allowing him to sleep comfortably until he knew she was safe in her bed. He knew though, that she was the daughter he would never have, and no matter how much sleep he lost, he would wait for her every night.

Extinguishing the lights in the room, Snape exited, closing the cabinet and making his way down the hall to his chambers.

Hermione yawned and stretched, walking to the portrait that lead to the Gryffindor common room. And in her weariness, her Slayer enhanced senses missed the presence standing in the shadows.

*******

Review please?