This chapter is dedicated to Malli, the author of 'Phoenix Child' who passed away. The world has lost a great writer; she will be missed.

Chapter 45.

Draco Malfoy walked quickly into the library, ignoring the incredulous stares he received from the strict librarian. He hurried to the back of the library where a brunette girl was sitting at a table, reading a book. He joined her and glanced at the cover of the book.

"'Fifty reasons why Wizards are better than Muggles'?" Draco quoted, raising an eyebrow. "You do know that this book is insulting people like your family?"

"I'm not entirely stupid, Draco." Hermione said, closing the book and placing it on the desk. "It was just lying here and I got bored waiting for you, so I decided to read it. It's quite interesting how much old-fashioned wizards are so oblivious to the uses of Muggles."

"Muggles aren't useful." Malfoy said scornfully.

Hermione sighed. "I beg to differ."

"How they manage without magic is beyond me. And they don't even manage without magic very well either, and they are incredibly ignorant."

"They may be ignorant, but they certainly manage without magic. They have electricity instead of fire, television instead of barbaric chess, cars instead of floo and apparition. They manage perfectly fine."

"What's a television?"

"Something better than chess I assure you, although Muggles have chess, except it's a lot less violent."

"What's the fun in that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's less cruel, less barbaric. Besides, there are other things with violence in them, which will tide boys like you over. There are movies –pictures moving with sound for two hours or so- with violence, which are shown on a television."

"Wizards are superior to Muggles." Draco stated.

"No, wizards have a special gift that gives them advantages over Muggles. Wizards aren't better than Muggles, they are just luckier. Think of Squibs, born without magic. Just because we-being witches and wizards- have gifts that other humans do not, does not make us superior."

"It does." Malfoy argued. "We can do things Muggles can't; therefore we are superior, better."

"Fine." Hermione said nonchalantly. "In that case, Harry is superior to you."

"What?" Draco spluttered.

"I'm superior to you as well." Hermione said just as casually as before.

"Run me by that again?"

Hermione sighed and looked Draco in the eye. "I'm cleverer than you. My grades are higher, therefore, I'm superior. Harry's better at Quidditch, he's never lost a match to you, and therefore he is superior to you."

"No way, that doesn't make sense!" Malfoy said angrily.

"Of course it does." Hermione shrugged.

"I'm just as good as Potter is! It's just dumb luck that he wins every bloody match against me."

"Exactly. Luck. Its luck that gave Harry his talents to beat you at Quidditch: its luck that gave me the intelligence to achieve higher grades than you: its luck that some members of the human race have magic when others don't."

Malfoy's eyebrow's furrowed as the conversation veered into a different direction. "Wait, that's not what I mean."

"It's exactly what you mean. Just because wizards and witches came into the world with certain advantages than Muggles, doesn't make us better. It just makes us luckier."

Malfoy frowned, processing everything Hermione had said. He sighed and looked back up to her. "Why does everything you say make sense?"

She shrugged and gave him a small smile. "I'm just lucky."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Her smile grew and she stood up. "I've got to go."

"Running back to Potty are we?" Malfoy said angrily and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I know you don't like him, but, just be nice when you're around me, ok? He's my best friend; I don't know what I'll do without him." Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she said this, and this did not go unnoticed by Draco.

"Are you in love with him?" He asked bluntly, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"No! Of course not!" But her blush deepened.

"You're blushing."

"So." Hermione said defiantly. "That doesn't mean anything."

He smirked. "And I thought it would be the weasel you would fall for."

"Ron?" Hermione scoffed. "No, Ron and I are friends."

"Right, like you and Harry are." Draco said suggestively.

"Exactly, like Harry and me."

"You're cheating on him; I never thought you would do something like that." Draco joked and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Good bye Draco."

"Give Potty a kiss for me!"

"Why don't you give him one yourself?"

Time passed quickly, and before they knew it, Christmas was upon the students and teachers at Hogwarts. For the first time, Harry spent his Christmas away from Hogwarts, without a snake attacking his best friend's father to thank for it. It was, admittedly, a quiet and saddened Christmas, unlike the one before. Angel Investigations went back to Los Angeles for the holiday, leaving behind Angel who stayed with Darla in the Hogwarts castle; she refused to go anywhere else. In exchange, Xander and Anya came to London, with their two month old baby girl, Anne.

While the Scoobies and the Order prepared for a reasonably quiet Christmas, Lord Voldemort had other plans.

"You will be successful?"

Rack nodded, a small cruel smile twisted on his face. "Absolutely."

Voldemort glared at the warlock. "You are sure? I don't take failure easily." He warned, fingering his wand.

"It will. You'll get you're slayer back, just as long as I get what I want." Rack rubbed his hand together greedily, and sparks of magic flew off of them.

Voldemort looked at him curiously. "And why should I give you something?"

"You've got to give a little to get a little right?"

Voldemort smiled cruelly, and stepped closer to Rack. Rack stepped back, painfully aware of the magic Voldemort possessed that far surpassed his. "You give the slayer her life, and I make sure you'll keep yours. Understood?"

--------------------------

It was two days later when Rack stood in front of Buffy's grave, the earth dug up from above it, the lid of the coffin removed and Buffy's pale face facing the sky. Death Eaters surrounded Rack and two other Wiccans who stood by the grave. Rack's helpers held lit candles in their hands, and one of them anxiously looked at her watch.

"One minute till midnight." She said, nervously glancing at the Death Eater's surrounding them.

"Do it." Lucius Malfoy ordered, from behind his mask.

"Now." Rack ordered, and the Wiccans, including two Death Eaters, knelt in front of the grave, forming a semi-circle. Rack took out a small jar with red liquid in it, and poured it into an urn; the urn of Osiris. "Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us." Rack dipped his fingers into the urn and marked both his cheeks and his forehead with the blood. "Before time and after, before knowing and nothing."Rack poured the contents of the urn on the grass before him. "Accept our offering, know our prayer."

When the words had left his lips, Rack jerked forward, his stringy brown hair falling in front of his face. Deep, ugly gashes appeared on his arms, but he did not look worried. "Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over!" He winced in pain as large round shapes moved in his skin. It moved up his arms, and Rack moaned in pain, but he wore a smile on his face. The shapes moved up to his shoulders, then to his chest and up to his neck. "Osiris! Let her cross over!" Rack yelled. Suddenly, he started to choke and he bent his head to the ground. His companions looked horrified as a snake appeared in his mouth, then slithered out onto the grass below. He gasped as the snake left his mouth, then he knelt up as orange light started to swirl around him. "Osiris! Release her!" Rack yelled as the orange turned to red.

And then, the red mist broke off from Rack and swirled towards Buffy and dipped into her casket, skimming over desiccated skin. As the orange-red mist swirled over Buffy's body, her eyeballs appeared and her hair and skin repaired its rotting state.

"Osiris!" Rack finally yelled, before the orange mist rose up above Buffy and Rack, coming together above them and turning into a white light, before it disappeared entirely.

Rack grinned to himself and stood up, peering down at the woman below him in the casket. "Good morning sweetie, it's time to wake up."

And then was when Buffy opened her eyes.