I wanted to read good Harry Potter Buffy Vampire Slayer crossover for some time now, and I even issued a challenge or two but since I got tired of waiting for people to take it, I decided to write it myself. It is HP/HG story . . . but with a twist and with mention of HP/GW and HG/Other

It is in Harry's POV and will have a lot of angst in it, the HP/HG will happen gradually, so be patient. It has only few chapters and they will be posted shortly.

Minor spoilers for BTVS: Season 4 to 7

Minor spoilers for Harry Potter: up to book 6

But the story is mostly AU.

WARNING: character death but in accordance with cannon.

For those who are waiting on my SGA stories to update: I am sorry I have a writer's block and evil plot bunnies made me write this.

Ok and now on with the story:

FREE TO CLAIM

I watched as my best friend lay unconscious on a hospital bed. It had been two days, and she still hadn't woken up. It started when we had Defense against the Dark Arts with "Professor" Snape when something strange happened, and Hermione was brought by said professor to hospital wing. Honestly, why did the greasy menace even carry Hermione here?

I still remember Ron mumbling something about Hermione being mental, but she couldn't have been unconscious from insanity, could she? I don't think it was madness that brought Hermione to oblivion; it was despair. I knew that feeling all too well, and could recognize it a mile away. I put my hand to my hair, messing it up even more than usual, small sigh escaping my lips. We used to be so close to each other. We were the golden trio - were being the operative term. It was more like me and Ron nowadays; well Ginny too occasionally, but it was mostly me and Ron. Along the way we lost Hermione, and I could only blame myself.

I still remember the day it all fell apart…well, at least the beginning of an end.

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I was sitting in the Gryffindor common room when Hermione entered through the portrait hole, smiling when she saw me. She walked up to me and told me that she had to tell me something.

"I love you!" came out of her lips. To say that I was surprised would be a serious understatement. I guess I mumbled something about loving her but not like that and that I kind of fancied Ginny. I was still in shock, but then she smiled and whispered, "I know."

I remember thinking about how strange it was. I had just theoretically broken her heart and she was smiling. Was I that easy to get over? I think I asked her that. I can still remember her words.

"No, Harry," she said. "You are not that easy to get over, but now I know for sure. I refuse to live my life on false hopes that maybe someday you will reciprocate my feelings. My heart is now free to be given to someone else; I have no more doubts. Thank you, Harry."

She was thanking me for breaking her heart. I felt like the biggest dirt bag in the whole magical world. I might have mumbled something along the lines of "are we still friends?" and with her still smiling, she assured me that we would always be friends and nothing, not even her more romantic feelings would change that. The rest of the evening is kind of blank.

First I thought that, that conversation would make us act awkward around each other, but the next morning Hermione came to breakfast and was her usual happy, annoying self, reminding me and Ron about our homework and just sat next to me as if nothing had happened the previous evening. I took my cue from her and acted the same. But some things did alter between us. It took some time, and the changes were minimal and gradual, but they were there nonetheless. She started to touch me less often, not that I noticed or minded before, but she tended to touch me a lot. It was when her small touches became less frequent, that I realized I kind of relied on those little touches to get me through the day. It was like she was no longer comfortable with the physical aspect of our friendship anymore. She wouldn't grab my hand when she made me and Ron hurry for some lesson, or drag us of to library. She wouldn't give me those reassuring squeezes during some classes or hug me when I didn't even know I needed them or after a good game of quidditch. She started to treat me more like…like Ron.

It just felt wrong.

I was going to ask her about it, but the Gryffindor courage I was suppose to have somehow left me each time I tried, and finally, after it been bugging me for some time, I just blurted it out when we were doing our homework assignment, or she was; I was just doodling on my parchment. She just smiled with this strange Mona Lisa smile and told me that she thought it would be better if she stopped doing that, and got that kind of encouragement from my girlfriend. Did I forget to mention, Ginny became my girlfriend few days after my talk with Hermione? I tried to ignore the fact that I missed all those small gestures and touches she gave me, but Ginny filled the touchy-feely gap in my life that Hermione left behind. Mostly. And I guess I did start to spend more time with Ginny, and somehow I missed another change in our relationship with Hermione. I say "our" because Hermione and Ron also had small fallout.

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It happened when we were desperately finishing, or more accurately writing a five-foot essay for the next day's Transfiguration, and our History essay also due the next day. Ron was as always whining about his homework and asking Hermione all sorts of questions; I might have asked a few questions myself. I think even Ginny wanted to borrow some notes from her.

Hermione just snapped. It was the first time I saw her so mad. Well there was that one time that she punched Malfoy, but that was justified, and we had never been on receiving end of it before. Merlin, was she scary. She even shouted, "Honestly! Do I look like walking and breathing encyclopedia of magic? No Harry, I do not know 'what effect a third goblin rebellion has on muggle economy.' Moreover, Ron, how in Merlin's name should I know which move of your hand should be changed in the 'avero' spell to make it actually work and change apples into lemons and not some strange green blob, nor Ginny, do I have the notes from previous year stocked, 'just in case someone from younger students would want to read them' by my bed. I am not an encyclopedia of magic or a notes donor!"

When we had all collected our jaws from the floor and got over our shock, she pointed a finger at each of us and added, "I am not your mother, sister or girlfriend!" the last one she said pointing at Ron, previous two pointing at Ginny and me. "I am your friend, and as a friend let me give you a little advice: Bugger off and do some bloody work for yourselves!" Then she left fuming, probably to her room, leaving us gaping at the entrance to girl's dormitory.

"Is she PMSing or something?" Ron asked. His comment made me laugh, but it did not change what had happened. Furthermore two things were clear after that night.

Fact one: Ron and I got "Poor" on our essays. Fact two: Hermione stopped helping us with our homework assignments, which had a direct link to our grades.

Well after that night, as I like to call it, Hermione stopped doing many things. She stopped reminding us to go to class, to do our homework, to study, to try and read "Hogwarts A History." Okay, so Hermione almost stopped talking to us at all. We became more like acquaintances, or all that we had in common was that we were from the same house. Once I even overheard – and no, I was not eavesdropping – her talking to Neville; I remember clearly that he asked her why she stopped hanging out with us.

"What's the point?" she said. "Since I stopped helping them with their classes, there isn't much to talk about, is there? I do not like quidditch, nor do I find various foods fascinating, there is just so many times that you can defend your own opinion or beliefs..." she continued with a hint of sadness in her voice, and then shrugged. Her answer made my heart stop for a moment. When they entered Transfiguration class, I quickly jumped behind a pillar. That conversation left me biting my finger to quiet my screams of frustration. I noticed in that moment just how much I missed hearing her voice, maybe even more than missing her touch. I even started to look forward to her ever-present, raised hand in classes just to listen to her voice as she gave, as always, the correct answer.

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As it usually happens when you are having "fun," months flew by quickly, soon winter came, and with it the Christmas holiday.

I got an invitation to spent Christmas at the Burrow, and of course as Ginny's boyfriend and Ron's best mate, I had to go. Not that I didn't want to go, I love the Burrow, and spending some time alone with Ginny, sneaking behind her mother's back for a quick snog, did sound more appealing than being alone in the empty castle.

Once again, I overheard (not eavesdropped) Hermione talking to someone that was not me, or Ron or Ginny, or…well you get the idea. Because Merlin knows, we stopped talking ages ago. This time it was Luna Lovegood. Seriously, from all the people at Hogwarts couldn't she have picked someone, I don't know, more sane? I like Luna, I really do, but she was peculiar, even in the wizarding world. And if Hermione didn't have anything to talk with us about, what could she possibly talk about with her? Well, apparently she was telling her how happy, happy she was, because she was going to visit her aunt Joyce in California. Ugh, like there was nothing interesting on our continent. However, it was not that information that caused my blood to run cold. She was very excited to meet her friend William, her very close friend William, with the set of the most amazingly blue and intelligent eyes. The blood rush to my ears stopped me from hearing any more. It hit me then. That was it, she found someone else to care about, to touch, to hug, to annoy. Merlin how he missed her….

When I was at the Burrow and Mrs. Weasley constantly tried to give me more food to help me gain some more weight and watching the twins test their newest products, I almost forgot about Hermione, almost. Somewhere on the back of my head, I felt that she should be there with us… and what kind of a name was William anyway?

When we returned from the holiday, Hermione was never more distant then back then. But Merlin, America did her good! She returned and she was HOT!

When I first saw her after the holiday, I almost didn't recognize her. She had not changed much nor did she have any makeover to become the next Ms. Universe, but there was something different about her. Some inner strength that made her looks better. But she did also sport a nice tan, which stood out among quite pale bodies of other witches and wizards. But the most striking change was her hair: Her once long, bushy brown curls were still there but shorter. Much shorter, they were cut short, barely reaching below her ears. At first glance she even seemed taller; that was before I saw that she was wearing high-heeled shoes, not too high but still a shock in itself; who knew Hermione even knew how to walk in that kind of shoes. And move she could, when she walked by every male on her way turned to watch gentle swing of her hips. She never looked more desirable. Unfortunately, I was not the only one who started to see her in a different light. Hogwarts male population had opened its eyes to the sexiness that was Hermione, and I hated it.

I saw her only during classes and at meals, and she was always surrounded by drooling males. As if suddenly they woke up and seen what a great girl, no, woman she was. And every time I saw her I remembered the conversation and her words that started it all: My heart is free to be given to someone else! Sure, I had Ginny, but beside the occasional snog we didn't share much, not like I used to share with Hermione. I just couldn't picture myself telling Ginny about a nightmare I had and her comforting me with just a hug or a simple touch to my hand.

From that moment I started to watch her, looking for signs that she really had moved on. I did lose a lot of sleep over the fact that she might choose one of the blabbering fools that just started to notice her, and fall for an ungrateful git who wouldn't appreciate her the way I would, and should have noticed her specialness sooner. The fact I had just started to notice her, probably the same time the rest of the school took notice, or just slightly earlier, somehow escaped my notice.

I noticed a pattern in Hermione's behavior. It wasn't like I was stalking her or anything, I just purposefully would place my humble self where she was, and I couldn't not notice certain things, alright?

Every day, after supper, Hermione would go to Room of Requirement and stay there almost until curfew. I was wondering what she is doing there and not knowing it was killing me. Was she meeting some bloke in there? After the tenth or eleventh time I watched her disappear to that room, I decided to use my father's invisibility cloak and see for myself what she was doing there. So I snuck after her and sat with my legs crossed in the far corner of the room and just watched her. I thought I was just concerned about her and watching over her, not invading her privacy. Yeah I know, it was a lame excuse, but I was desperate and not knowing what she was doing almost drove me mad. So I sat there and watched her.

For the first few minutes she just read a book. The room was almost the size of the charms classroom, which I thought was kind of strange to need such a large space just for reading. But then I thought she used the room just to escape the noisy common room and the dormitory; it was such a Hermione thing to do, and then she stood up.

She cracked her hands and her neck, went to stand at the middle of the room and closed her eyes. In a moment a few cloaked figures appeared around her. I was just about to shout and warn her but I didn't have the chance. Hermione, without opening her eyes took her wand and cast a series of strange spells, each of them hitting its target and sending the cloaked figures crushing down. Suddenly more figures appeared and started to close in on her. She opened her eyes, crouched down and fire series of quick spells that left the room full of smoke, plaster dust and pieces of blown death eaters' models. She was full of surprises; I didn't even hear the spells she cast. Then again, she was always the brains of our group. And Merlin was she fast. It was hard to believe this was my friend, the gentle know-it-all that cared about the welfare of house elves, the same girl who helped poor Neville to pass almost all his classes, just like she helped me and Ron with the same.

She acted as if she was an experienced auror.

Before I blinked it started again, ending just as quickly before starting all over again, and again and again. Each time she did it, more figures appeared. For over an hour I watched as she battled. I was getting tired just watching her.

After about hour and a half and a few more battles, I watched fascinated at the goddess before me stood straight and slowly went to small closet. When she took off her school blouse on the way and I saw her torso covered only in a black bra, I lost my breath. But all too soon she turned her back to me and took out something to change into. I looked at my watch but we were in the room for only two hours, and she usually was in the room around three... My question was answered when she, now fully clothed, returned to the middle of the room and for the millionth time I could not take my eyes from her form.

Only once before I have seen something like what she was doing. It was in some action movie that Dudley loved to watch. It was some sort of martial art. She was moving - no, flowing, fluently dancing and moving her body with grace; I was in a trance. When she finished afterwards, what I thought was five minutes had passed, but was actually over fifty, she took her school bag and almost ran out of the room.

I realized then that she has become my obsession. I would have dreams about what I saw in that room for many nights after that and in those dreams I wasn't just observing her anymore.

But all that felt meaningless when that fateful DADA happened…

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Edited 1/19/2010 by reptilia28.