Three weeks later, a short blond girl stood in the sun-drenched entry hall, looking around confusedly. Hermione spotted her as she crossed the foyer.

"Buffy! She greeted lowly, "Long time no see! Faith had mentioned you'd gone off somewhere."

Just then Hermione noticed something odd. People were looking at her oddly. They sometimes did, when they caught her talking to the ex-slayers, as it appeared she was talking to herself. But now they were looking at her oddly – and at the strange girl next to her.

"Buffy, how can they see you?" Hermione asked.

Buffy smiled smally. "I'm alive. Again."

"How is that possible?" Hermione gasped.

Buffy cringed. "Umm . . . dark magic. My friends got a little over-zealous. I was in Devon taking Willow to a coven who'll rehabilitate her to the good stuff. I thought 'hey, while I'm here, maybe I'll pop over and see Hermione in person!'."

Harry walked up beside her. "Hermione, you're going to be last for class, and isn't that one of the sure signs of the end of the world – hey, who's your friend? Hello."

Hermione laughed. "Buffy, you'll remember Harry, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, this is Buffy, the Girl-Who-Died-Twice."

Harry frowned then smiled. "Oh, one of your ex-slayers. Err, pardon, but why can I see you?" he asked Buffy.

Buffy shrugged. "Alive again." She looked at the emptying halls. "Should you be getting to class?"

Hermione nodded. "Come with us? We have DADA." she smirked. "I think you'll like today's lesson."

They took their seats just as class was beginning. Professor Gilspey frowned, but said nothing as her two best students scurried in, with a stranger in tow.

"Last class we had a test, so today we are beginning a new unit. Please open your texts to Chapter 11: Muggle Defenses to the Dark Arts. It's a short one, the poor things don't have much to work with, but it's a good one for cultural perspective. Hannah Abbot, it you'd please read aloud the first page."

The shy Hufflepuff cleared her throat and began. "Muggles may not have magic, but that does not make them immune to the powers of the Dark Arts or the malice of Dark Creatures. Indeed, the majority of the world's vampires are created from helpless muggles. To defend against the Dark creatures and practitioners of the Dark Arts not governed by the Magical community, muggle magic-users long ago created a champion known as the Vampire Slayer. The slayer is one girl in all the world chosen to fight against the Dark Arts. She is gifted with increased strength, speed, stamina, and senses to aide her in her battle. While on rare occasions a witch can be Chosen, the Slayer is usually without magic and must rely on her physical skills to defeat the Dark. To guide her, a Council of Watcher was created. This body locates and trains those with the potential to be Chosen, guides the Chosen One, and records the historical information of her career. Due to the dangerous nature of Her duty, the life of the Slayer, who is generally Called between the ages of 14 - 19, is reduced to 1 -3 years from her Calling. What is unclear about the creation of the Vampire Slayer is why there is only one per generation. Surely, a group of Slayers would have more luck in defending the muggle world."

"See, that's what I've always wondered." Buffy whispered to Hermione, but Prof. Gilspey heard. "Do you have a comment, Ms. – I'm sorry, are you new?"

Buffy's eye widened. She shook her head. "Uh. . . my name's Buffy. Sorry, I'm just visiting. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You seem to know something about the Slayer. Which school do you attend?"

Buffy cringed. "Um. I used to go to UC Sunnydale."

Professor Gilspey was muggle-born. "A muggle school?"

Buffy nodded. "I'm 100 grade-A FDA approved certified muggle."

Whispers shot through the class. The professor shook her head. "Then how do you know about the Slayer?"

Buffy's mouth formed a small 'o'. "Well, you see, I have this friend..." she trailed off, then shrugged. "I was never any good at the secret identity bit. I am the Slayer. One of them anyway."

This threw the class into chaos. When Prof. Gilspey had calmed them down, she asked Buffy for an explanation.

She grinned and shrugged. "It was Tuesday." Then she rolled her eyes and said seriously, "Well, you see, my predecessor, India, died, which Called me, Buffy. Then I died, which Called Kendra, but then I was revived. Then Kendra was killed, Calling Faith, who was killed, which called Addenya, who died, Calling – um, the current slayer. So, really, I'm the misplaced slayer from 4 back in line."

"There are two slayers?" Buffy nodded. "I had died again, leaving only the one, but I just got woken up yet again."

"Where were you while you were dead?" someone asked. The professor glared at the student. "I don't think that's a very appropriate question to ask Ms. Buffy."

Buffy shook her head. "It's just Buffy, professor, and I don't mind. I've kinda been hanging out in the slayer-afterlife and spending some time tailing the current slayer as a sort of spirit-guide."

This sparked more questions, and Buffy occupied the rest of the class telling stories about her life in Sunnydale. When class was over, Professor Gilspey had to threaten them with Unforgivable curses to get them out.