Chance's A/N: I know…we finally updated!!!! We are so sorry for the wait. We hope you like this chapter and please keep reviewing!

"Come on, Con. For a track star you're really slow. We want to get back to the hotel sometime before the next century."

Connor smiled patiently at his little sister, and rolled his eyes, but moved at a slightly brisker pace. He felt the urge to start running at breakneck speed just to prove her wrong, but quelled the urge, for two obvious reasons. The first was that it would've looked incredibly immature, and he wanted to admire the hodge-podge of London architecture.

This area was fairly modern, and in Connor's mind, boring. Despite his rather slow, by his standards, momentum on the gray cement sidewalk, he was a little ahead of his parents and his sibling. He paused, kicking a pebble around with his scuffed sneaker, to allow them to catch up.

There was a sudden breeze that made him shiver, as he felt a tiny prickle at the back of his neck. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and turned, to face the stores opposite him. Out of the blue Connor noticed a pub. It was perfectly ordinary looking, save that it was shabbier than most, and in the wrong part of town. Still, for some reason it caught his eye. He shivered and felt the prickle again.

"Hey, Mom, Dad. Do you want to stop and grab a drink or something? There's a place right over there." Connor furrowed his eyebrows. The hotel wasn't that far away. He supposed it was simple curiosity to see the inside of the pub, and left it at that.

His father sprinted to reach him, and attempted to answer while still catching his breath, "I don't see anything? What're you talking about son?"

Connor blinked, then pointed, "Right there. Kind crammed next to that bookshop. Do you see it know?"

The older man squinted at the point his son indicated. Slowly but surely, comprehension dawned on his face, "I sure do. I wonder how I could've missed it." He chuckled and shook his head, "I must be getting old."

Connor grinned wickedly, "What do you mean getting?" He ducked from his father's mock-swipe and laughed. In the end grabbing a quick glass of something proved to be an agreeable plan. Connor felt a twinge of unease, but chalked it up to thirst and ignored it. He would regret it for a long time afterwards.

As Connor approached the door, he was rudely shoved out of the way by someone, and fell to the floor. "What the-". Connor didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

"You should learn to move aside for your betters, boy."

Connor opened his mouth to retort, but abruptly closed it. The person who'd pushed him out of the way was cloaked and masked. Oh, shit. I've stumbled on to the hang out of some sort of cult. He looked out of the corner of his right eye; his family was coming closer. I have to get them out of here.

He grit his teeth, trying to overcome his feelings of panic,"I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful in the future."

Connor didn't know it, but under his mask the man was smiling. The man also had pulled out a long, thin, shiny stick, without the eighteen year old noticing.

"I'm afraid it's far too late for that now. Crucio!"

Almost at once, Connor was in a world of unspeakable pain. Naturally, he began to scream. His cries drew over his mother, his father, and his little sister. "No! Stay back, he has-!" They didn't hear what the man had, because Connor's body finally gave out, and everything went black.

"But, Mr. Giles," started Ginny, "How could one of us be 'the chosen one?' I mean, we're witches—how could we be anything else?"

"Our sources tell us that there is a teenaged female in this room who IS the chosen one."

"Mr. Giles--," started Hermione.

Giles interrupted, "Please, call me Giles."

"Right," said Hermione, "Giles, who was the last slayer? How did she die?"

A small smile spread across Giles' face. "Her name was Buffy," he started, "And she still lives."

They all watched Giles as he told them the story of a girl from Las Angeles, who didn't really want to be a Slayer. He told them of her coming to the Hellmouth, about her dealings with the Master, the king of all vampires and the friends who had aided her. Willow, Xander, Angel, Giles himself, and later Ms. Calendar, and Cordelia

They learned about the vampire couple, Spike and Drucilla and Kendra the other Slayer whose life was cut tragically short. He spoke of the Mayor, who had once been a wizard, but sold his soul for demonic power; and also of Faith, who had been hurt and hurt others in return before redeeming herself.

"This Faith," said Ron, "She sounds like she could really light my fire—Ouch!" Hermione had slapped him smartly across his arm. "What?" he asked, "I was just kidding!" Harry smiled at his two friends.

Giles continued. They came to know of Glory, the Dark God, who had searched for the key but had never gotten the chance to use it through Buffy's sacrifice. Then came the final tale: The First, the Potentials, and the decision. By the time he had finished the teenagers were staring at him in horror.

Harry was the first one to speak. "Right, erm---well, after hearing that, why don't we tell you about what we're going through right now, and then you can decide if you really want one of these two to be your Slayer."

"Just a moment, young man," said Giles, "Slayers are Chosen by the Powers That Be, not picked out of a hat by mortal man. It is a serious Calling. In the past the average life of a Slayer has not been a long one. I believe the oldest Slayer on record died at the age of thirty-one. We hope to change that, but there is still great risk involved. Also, having any kind of social life will be problematic at best."

"Wow," said Ginny, eyes dark and fierce, "I'm not sure if I would be able to do that. There's so much going on right now," she glanced over at Harry. "Hermione and I already have commitments at the moment."

"It's hard," said Giles as he took of his glasses and cleaned them, "But that's the life of the Slayer. I wish I could say that the choice is yours, but it isn't."

"Wait a second," said Harry, "This is easy. It must be Hermione. She'd know everything. I'm surprised she hasn't already quoted the entire history of all Slayers." Hermione blushed at the compliment.

"Even so," said Giles, "The Slayer is not always a brilliant mind."

"Plus," said Ron, "'Mione's horrible at anything physical."

"Thank you, Ron," said Hermione sarcastically.

"Now," said Giles, "Please tell me about your past. Maybe I will be able to find some clues."

Harry sat down. He looked at the ground, thinking back to the beginning. "There is a wizard, so powerful and horrible that not many will speak his name, Voldemort."

The room was still, everyone's eyes staring at Harry. They knew this would be difficult. He hadn't spoken much since that night in the Department of Mysteries.

Harry continued. "He killed my parents. He tried to kill me." They could see the anger build up in him. "And I was forced to live with my horrible aunt and uncle!"

Ginny put her arm on Harry's back. He calmed down. "And then we got to Hogwarts; Ron, Hermione, and I. First year was great. It was the first freedom I had experienced, but that's when Voldemort showed the first signs of return. We defeated him, and destroyed the Philosopher's Stone."

Ron and Hermione showed signs of triumph, but Harry continued, "Second year, Ginny came along. I suppose you could say it was partially her fault for what happened that year."

Ginny looked down at Harry, affronted at first. She then took her arm off him and sat down, her hands covering her eyes. Harry still spoke, "His younger form came back and," he got angrier, "he controlled her mind, and made her open the Chamber of Secrets." Ginny started sobbing, "But yet again, we prevailed."

Giles nodded ushering Harry to continue, "Third year was the year we won the Quidditch tournament. Our captain, Oliver, was so happy, and I was too, but that was also the year we met Sirius, who told me the REAL story of my parents, and their traitor, Peter Pettigrew. Sirius was like my father."

Everyone was silent. Ginny was quietly sobbing. Harry continued, "In 4th year Voldemort came back, in front of me. And then in 5th year he controlled my dreams, and Sirius was killed. Now we must yet again try to defeat him."

Everyone was silent. Hermione leaned on Ron for support, crying uncontrollably. Ginny face was red and tear-stained. Then Harry said, "Are you sure that it's one of them? They already have a lot on their minds."

Giles was about to answer, when there was a sudden 'pop' in the Burrow. It was Dumbledore. "Three Muggles have just been killed outside of the Leaky Cauldron. There are signs of magic."