In This Chapter- more Buffy-ness, and a look from the Harry/Ron POV.

Harry paced impatiently through the Gryffindor common room.  Occasionally he would mutter a thing or two, but for the most part he was just creating a worn path on the cold stone floor.  Ron looked on with worried interest.

"If you don't stop pacing, I'm nailing you to the floor," The red head said, although his tone didn't imply a joke.

"I should have waited," Harry said angrily.  He stopped pacing.  "I should have made her go first."

"No mate," Ron said from his chair.  "I should have made the both of you go before me, they don't want me for anything, I'm of no use to them."

Just then Ginny walked in and stood behind the couch, glaring at the two boys.

"Oh will you two just stop it?"  She said angrily.  "You are just standing and sitting here, wishing she was back, but you can't turn back time.  Stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourselves and get moving.  Dumbledore wants to speak with the both of you."

Ron sprang up from his chair and followed Harry out of the common room, nearly running Ginny over.  She merely shook her head in dismay.

The boys reached the Gargoyle stature, out of breath and with cramps at their sides.

"L-lemon drop," a winded Harry gasped, and the stone stature came to life and let them pass.

Ron led the way up to the office, and was immediately assaulted by a very, very shaken Jessica.

            "Jess!"  Ron cried, and hugged her tight.  He then noticed Jared and Lauren, and the tears that appeared on every one of their faces.

            McGonagall and Dumbledore stood there, silent as statues.

            "What happened?"  Harry asked, and was met with more tears.  He walked over to Lauren, and hugged her somewhat awkwardly, then stepped back and looked at his teachers.

"I think we all need to sit down," Dumbledore said in an answer.  With that, he produced five comfortable armchairs, much like the ones he made for himself and Ms. Figg at Harry's trial. 

The kids all took a seat on the chairs, Jared, Lauren, Harry, Jessica, and Ron.  Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and McGonagall stood on his right side, looking stern and proud.

"There has been another attack," Dumbledore said gravely.

"They killed Jessica's parent," Jared said to the floor, in a numbed and shocked voice.

Jessica sat at Ron's side, numb with grief and crying silent tears.

"No more?"  Harry asked, bewildered.  Usually they killed many more than two muggles.

            "No more," Dumbledore said, "But two too many.  We have Miss Covington to thank for the prevention of more lost lives.  Through her excellent work, we were able to stop the attack while it was in progress, and before they could claim more lives.  The dungeons deep below Hogwarts are now in use again, this time with three deatheaters, as Azkaban is under Voldemorts control."

"The potions classrooms?"  Ron asked, confused.

"No Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said gravely.  "The dungeons deep below the classrooms.  They have not been in use since the times of the four founders."

"Are they secure there?"  Harry asked.  He did not like the sound of Voldemorts followers sharing the same roof with him, even if they were locked up by magic.

"There are more spells on them than guarded the sorcerer's stone," Dumbledore replied.  "I saw to it myself that they were all impenetrable except for Professor McGonagall and me.  Their wands have all been snapped in half, and they all have numbing and blindness spells on them.  They do not know where they are, and they cannot feel Voldemorts calls."

This made Harry feel somewhat better, but he still had other matters to concern him.

"What about Hermione?"  He asked.

Dumbledore looked grave, but he had good news.

"Miss Granger is no longer on this continent," He said.  "But she is also not in the hands of Voldemort.  Something went wrong in their kidnap attempt, and she is somewhere that we cannot plot."

"But how?"  Ron asked, amazed.  "What could have gone wrong?"

"It's not so much of what went wrong, Mr. Weasley, but of whom."  McGonagall answered.  "It appears that Draco Malfoy may have turned his back against the allegiance of Voldemort, for he disobeyed his father, and tried to Apparate to Hogwarts, but failed."

"Malfoy!"  Harry and Ron cried.  "How can you know he hasn't done something terrible with her?  Maybe this was all a plot of Voldemorts to catch us off guard!  Maybe they really do all have her, and are laughing about how fooled we are as we speak!"  Both Harry and Ron rattled of the questions in a jumbled order, but Dumbledore has dealt with them enough to be able to speak the language of two troubled sixteen year olds.

"Harry, Ron," Dumbledore said their given names kindly.  "We know that Hermione is with Draco Malfoy, but we also know that wherever he is, it is not with Voldemort, or even with Lucius Malfoy.  The deatheaters we caught were looking for them at her friend's house; they are no closer to their location than we are."

This did not appease the two boys, who decided that anywhere alone with Draco Malfoy was worse than being in a room with a hundred armed deatheaters.

~

"And that's my slayer story, the cliff notes version anyway," Buffy finished her story with an anticlimax, but Hermione was enthralled.

"You have been slaying so long!"  She exclaimed.  "You have to be the longest lived slayer in history!  They never last more than two years!"

Buffy laughed.  "Well, I have died twice, so I don't know how much that counts."

"It's because you have such fantastic friends," Hermione said with a sad smile.  "The slayers of the past were so alone, but you have friends to help you through it all, you are very lucky."

Willow and Xander both hugged Buffy at the same time.  "She knows!"  They said in unison, and they all laughed.

"Now, it's your turn," Spike said.  Hermione gave him a cold glare.  She didn't trust him, but she didn't hate him.  There was something in his aura that confused her.

"Well," Hermione started.  "I suppose I should be honest with you," She paused.  "My name is not Granger, at least not anymore.  My surname is Prewitt, and I just found out half a year ago."

As she expected, three pairs of eyes widened at the statement. 

"But-"Spike began.

"I know, I know," Hermione interrupted.  "I already heard it a million times, but it's the truth.  I'm the last Prewitt in existence, and I'm a bit more magical."

"So you're both a witch and wizard?"  Spike asked.  "I thought so; I could feel it a mile away."

"Hang on a second," Willow said, looking left out.  "I'm a witch too!  How come Spike can't sense me?  Wait, that didn't sound right, but why?"

"Their real witch and wizard,"  Anya said, as if it were the plainest thing in the world.  "They were born with magic in their blood, you weren't.  They can do loads of stuff you cant, and easily do stuff that sucks the energy out of you."

"Blunt little bugger, isn't she?"  Draco whispered to Hermione.  Across the room Spike sniggered and nodded at them.

"Why didn't you ever tell us about this?"  Willow asked, now feeling more and more put out.  "I thought there was only one kind of witch."

"There is only one kind," Draco said.  "We're it.  You are a Wicca, you don't have any magic in your blood, and you get your powers from the elements and earth."

"But it's still powerful,"  Hermione interjected, glaring at Draco for his rudeness.  "It's just that anyone can do Wicca, while you need to be born with magic to be a witch or wizard.  We go to a school for it, called Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Giles said knowingly.  "I've been there before, but I'm not a wizard myself.  When I was younger I toyed with a lot of dark magical objects that I shouldn't have.  Does Albus Dumbledore still teach transfiguration?"

"He's the Headmaster now," Hermione said proudly.  "And its imperative we get back to him, Harry and Ron are probably killing themselves with worry,"

"Oh good, less work for me," Draco cracked, but Hermione whirled around.

"Don't you dare Malfoy!"  Hermione yelled.  "It's your fault I'm here in the first place!  It's your fault I've been away from my home for the last months!  I don't care what you have to say about anything, but I'm not letting a deatheater talk about my friends like that!"

Hermione glared at the handsome boy, and he glared back.  Draco was furious his rescue attempt failed, but he was even more miserable thinking that Hermione didn't believe him.  Deep down he knew he wouldn't have if he was in her place, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Deatheater?"  Buffy asked, "Is that a daemon?  Something I can kill?"

Hermione looked over at the petite blonde, and grinned. 

"You bet," She said, and grabbed Draco.  "Here's your first one,"

"Hermione!"  Draco yelled, getting annoyed at being toyed with.  "I'm not a deatheater!"

"I know," Hermione answered simply.

Draco stopped, hope rose in him.  "You do?"  He asked.

"Of course you're not a deatheater," Hermione said again.  "You have to be of age, do you think I know nothing about my own world?  You're only sixteen, at seventeen you're of age."

Draco sighed impatiently, he would have to win this battle another day.

"So you're a Malfoy,"  Spike said, eyeing Draco with interest.  "I've met a few of you in my day.  Are you Aierian's son?"

"Lucius," Draco said.  "Aierian Malfoy was my grandfather."

"Lucius," Spike nodded.  "I know him as well. The years go by differently for us vamps, it's hard to keep track.  I knew Lucius when he was seventeen. About the age I look now.  He never discovered I was a vampire."

Draco looked curiously at Spike, there was something he knew but wouldn't say, Draco could feel it.

"I know all about your history," Hermione looked at Spike, shooting daggers with her eyes that would have even made Draco back off.  "So what does a vampire was with a slayer?  Better yet, what does a vampire that has killed two other slayers want with this one?"

"That's a test subject there, Hermione,"  Xander said with a half smile.  "That's a lot of history for just one day, or night, I guess it is now,"

"Well I'm always willing to learn," Hermione replied.  "I want to see how this one works.  He sired one of my teachers, and terrorized the entire English country before he came here, do you know nothing of him?"

Spike wasn't worried about the gang finding out anymore of his past.  He had already been through hell and back for his soul, they knew he wasn't a bad guy anymore. 

At least not as bad as he once was.

"Look love,"  Spike said, not really sounding one way or another.  "They know me, they know what I've done, there's no changing the past, get over it."

Hermione glowered, but before she could say anything, Buffy stepped in.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about any of this," she said to Giles. 

Hermione and Draco looked on in mild amusement as different degrees of exasperation crossed Giles' face.

"Of course I couldn't tell you," Giles finally said.  "There are strict codes and guidelines that I have been sworn to uphold, giving you an edge into things that do not concern you would throw off the entire balance of power, and what if-"

"Oh come off it," Spike said.  "We know all this already, and the slayer knows it too, she just loves to give everyone a hard time."

"Butt out Spike," Buffy said in an irritated voice. "Better yet, help Draco get settled downstairs with you, I think this little meeting is over, let's let Hermione and Draco have some sleep."

"Finally,"  Hermione heard any say to Xander.  "I don't know what the big deal is, everyone is fine with daemons, but the thought of there being real witches and wizards gives everyone the heebie-jeebies?  Please."

Hermione would have smiled is she hadn't been so distressed about her entire situation, which was seeming more and more hopeless by the minute.  Everyone had left, and Dawn had just told her Buffy would bring her some blankets.  Hermione thanked her and then Dawn too went to bed.

Soon Buffy returned, carrying about six peoples worth of blankets and pillows.

"Thank you" Hermione said with a smile.  She gazed around the empty room and sighed.

"Miss home?"  Buffy asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Yes I do,"  Hermione replied. "But maybe not the sort of home this is.  I miss the world of magic and I miss my classes and,"  She stopped short and said quietly, "I miss Harry and Ron the most.  I could live without everything I know, but I couldn't live without them.  They're the world to me, and now I'm in a whole new world without them.  I'm in a strange country filled with people I don't know, and the only familiar face is that of the person that has sneered at me and called me terrible names and had tried to have me killed.  Why do I feel like I'm in a bad soap opera?"

Buffy's heart went out for Hermione, but she didn't quite understand why.  Hermione seemed to feel differently than most people, almost like she felt more.  Buffy was drawn to the energy Hermione gave off, and felt compelled to help her, even if it didn't take slayer strength.

"What's Draco's story?"  Buffy asked.  "I sent him down to the basement with spike, it didn't seem like you were very comfortable with him around.

"Thanks,"  Hermione said.  "Malfoy and I have never gotten along, and it's such an incredibly long and complicated story."

"Just a pureblood and mudblood feud."  A new voice broke in, and Hermione recognized it immediately.

"Spike,"  Buffy sighed.  "Personal conversations are supposed to stay, you know, personal?"

"Couldn't help myself,"  Spike replied as he fell onto a chair and put his feet up.  "You know how I love helping to clear thing up in any way I can."

Hermione stayed quiet around the British vampire.  She loved listening to him talk.  The familiarity of his accent almost overcame her deep distrust for him.  Almost.

"Well, is Draco asleep?"  Buffy asked.

"Far as I can tell," Spike replied with a shrug.  "Could be faking though."

Hermione put her head in her hands.  "What a mess," she said.

"Cheers to that," Spike said.

"I still want to know the story!"  Buffy explained in exasperation.  "What are a pureblood and a mudblood?"

"Pureblooded wizards come from all wizard families, mudblood is a derogatory comment for a wizard that is born into a muggle family." Hermione explained quickly.  "Draco and I come from two old pureblood families, but I didn't always know that.  It's complicated."

"You and Draco don't get along?"  Buffy asked, crossing her legs and getting comfortable on her couch.

"No,"  Hermione said shortly.  "I don't suppose you ever heard of a big bad called Voldemort, have you?"

Just as Hermione expected, Buffy shook her head.

"Didn't think so," Hermione looked at Spike, who had a knowing look in his eyes.  "Voldemort is a powerful wizard, who is also deep into the dark arts.  We're talking killing muggles for amusement and enslaving the world sort of evil."

"Doesn't sound like anything I haven't faced before,"  Buffy said with a smile.  "I could help."

"That's where you're wrong pet,"  Spike said.  "Wizard fighting isn't like what you see Willow and Tara do, it's full contact, spells right between the eyes stuff, and there are just a few simple words that can inflict complete torture and others that will instantly kill you, without so much as a mark."

But Buffy didn't look convinced. "Nothing can stop this guy?"  She asked.  "But that defies the laws of nature, everything has a weak spot, it's a big balance thing."

"Voldemort did have a weakness,"  Hermione said.  "And this is where is gets frightfully cliché- love destroyed him.  When he was in full power, he tried to kill my friend Harry, but Harry's mother died to protect him, and left her protection in him.  When Voldemort tried to kill Harry, the curse flew back to himself and Voldemort lost all his power, but he didn't die.  Some believe he's not human enough to die."

Buffy put a hand to her forehead.  "This seriously confuses me, but I'll take your word for it and leave it at that.  Now, what about Draco?"

"He's a Malfoy," Hermione said with venom.  "He's the foulest, most terrible person I know, unless you count his father, who is probably twice as worse."

"Sounds terrible,"  Buffy said.  "What are you doing with him then?"

Hermione told Buffy and Spike the story of her adventure in the muggle world and of her second abduction. 

"Sounds like the man was trying to help," Spike said with a thoughtful look on his young face.  "Seems like trying to do the right thing backfired on the guy,"

"I actually agree with Spike,"  Buffy said.  "He didn't seem too bad, and as soon as he woke up, he asked about you."

"Because I'm what Voldemort wants!" Hermione said indignantly.  "He wants to use me so he can gain favor with his lord,"

"Slow down!"  Buffy said.  "I think you need some sleep for now, and then maybe Will can find a spell that can transport you guys back to where you belong, but sleep will do you some good now, and in the morning you can have one of Xander's famous breakfasts."

Hermione smiled weakly and thanked her host.  Buffy left, leaving Hermione and Spike looking at each other with mutual interest.

"You know,"  Spike said thoughtfully.  "The last witch I ate was nearly thirty-four years ago.  I never really got a taste for magic blood."

"That's comforting,"  Hermione said and rolled her eyes.  "I'll be sure to sleep well tonight."

"I'm not evil, you know," Spike said.  "At least not anymore."

"I know that."  Hermione replied. "I can see your soul as plain as day,"

"Good to hear,"  Spike got up from his seat.  "Well, goodnight then, I'll be sure to tell Master Malfoy goodnight for you,"

Spike left the room with cat-like quietness and descended the stairs to the basement, where unsurprisingly, Draco was wide awake and sitting on a cot, waiting for Spike to return.

"Well?"  Draco asked impatiently.  "What did she say?"

"She's confused," Spike answered truthfully.  "But she's isn't lying to get you into trouble.  Her story matches yours.  She talks about her two friends a lot."

"Potter and Weasley,"  Draco said with an air of disgust.  "I don't know what she sees in them."

Spike looked at the young man in front of him, sitting in a dark basement that wasn't exactly warm.  Draco gave off an air of cool superiority.  Spike was an old vampire, nearing a hundred fifty years old, and the Malfoy line had to be one of the most exquisite dynasties he had ever encountered.  Draco Malfoy was no exception, in fact, Spike couldn't remember when he had ever seen a more beautiful creature.  Spike knew Draco's family, but he was also good at discovering lies, and the look in Draco's eyes held none.

"I do believe you love her,"  Spike said as he went to his own bed.

Draco's head snapped up and his mouth formed a supposed 'o'.  He couldn't seem to form a sentence properly.

"Don't get me wrong,"  Spike said, lying down.  "She's beautiful, but I don't even think you know you love her yet.  Just wait for it, soon it will hit you like a stake to the heart, and you'll be off battling for your soul, just so she'll share a bit of hers with you."

Draco didn't know how to respond to this, so he simply didn't.  Instead he stretched out on his cot and plummeted into a night of uneasy sleep.

(AN) I have a legitimate excuss this time, my computer was down for a month! But now I'm working on the next chapter right this second, and for TAPFU, so, stay tuned!