Hey, this is my very first fanfic. I'm kind of nervous about how it will be received, but please review! It takes place during season six of Buffy after Tabula Rosa and is AU after that. It's a crossover with HP and it's set 2 years (roughly) after Harry's seventh year. I've messed with the timelines, but whatever.

Blah blah, I own nothing. Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling own all the characters except any that I happen to make up.

Welcome to Sunnyhell

Harry had just arrived in Sunnydale, California, USA a little over 45 minutes ago. He was on an assignment for the Ministry of Magic, an assignment that he had eagerly jumped at when it was offered to him. After defeating Voldemort, Harry had decided to become a full-fledged auror. He had been fighting evil practically his whole life. Being an auror wouldn't be any different.

How wrong he had been. Training to become an auror had been the longest, most boring and bureaucratic experience of Harry's life. He had to take over two years of strenuous courses in defenses and magics before being allowed to take on simple baddies. Really, Harry thought. I took on the Dark Lord when I was barely even a teenager. I killed him when hundreds of trained and skilled wizards had died at his hands before. I think I can handle more than fighting simulations of the bad guys.

So when Harry had been offered the chance to become liaison between officials on America's Hellmouth and the Ministry, Harry had been only too happy to oblige. He missed the action and the fight, the all night research sessions with Ron and Hermione and most of all Hogwarts. Hogwarts had always been his true home. But here he was, in an artificially happy California town, walking through the graveyard.

Harry sighed, fiddling with the stake that had been supplied to him. His ministry briefer had told him about the unusual amount of vampire activity in the town. One of his many jobs was to control the undead population. But the graveyard seemed quiet for the night and Harry found himself wondering if the whole thing was a sham. Is the ministry just trying to get me out of the way? Give me the equivalent of a desk job? In addition to vampire killing, Harry was supposed to provide any and all information he could find about the town's inner-workings: how many demon species populated the area, who the powerful players were, who (if there were any) the good guys were and passing on any warnings of apocalypse.

As Harry was pondering his job description, he noticed a girl walking in front of him. She was a petite, most likely pretty blonde. Walking alone. At night. In a graveyard. On the Hellmouth. That never meant anything good. Harry had barely been in Sunnydale for in hour, but already he wondered how stupid its population was. Or maybe it's a vampire, he thought excitedly. Harry grabbed for his stake and crept quietly behind her.

It wasn't long before a vampire, in its game face, approached the blonde girl.

"Hey there, little girl. How's about I take you out for some dinner?"

"Hmm" the girl replied, "How about you make it a dinner and a show, then we'll be talking."

The vampire, who'd expected screaming and begging looked confused. "A show?"

"Yeah, you know, it was a pun. Like I was talking about a movie, but really the show is gonna be me kicking you ass?" The girl pulled a hand out of her pocket revealing a stake.

A look of fear and recognition dawned on the vampire's face. "Slayer," he growled.

The girl replied, "slayee."

Without another word, the vampire turned around and fled. The blonde sighed. "It's no fun when you run away" she called towards the receding figure. Dismissively she shot the stake towards the running vampire. Her aim was impeccable. The vamp turned to dust before he hit the ground.

Harry looked upon the scene with amazement. Who was this girl?

"Damn," she muttered. "I was hoping he'd fight back. I really needed a release."

Suddenly, Harry noticed a man with bright platinum hair and a leather jacket lounging against a tree.

"You know pet, if you need a release, I'm always here to help" the man called over.

The girl jumped, turning around. Her face suddenly became angry. "Oh if it isn't Spike. Don't you have anything better to do then stalk me?"

"Don't kid yourself Buffy," Spike said. "But while we're on the topic, we bloody well need to talk about last night. We had a thing, you can't deny it."

"A thing? A thing?" Buffy snorted derisively. "What are you, in middle school? We kissed! Twice! Once under the influence of magic and last night only because I was seriously depressed! What do you want me to say? You can't seem to accept that I hate you."

Now it was Spike's turn to snort. "Why do you keep trying to fight it, love? With you, no means yes. You've always belonged in the darkness with me."

"You know, sometimes I think that I should ask Willow to put the Buffybot back together. Maybe if you had your little toy to keep you satisfied, you'd finally leave me alone!" Buffy practically spat at him.

"Do you think I want that?" Spike asked, sounding hurt. "I love you Buffy. You may not believe it, but I do. I could never be satisfied with a plastic scrap. I want the real Buffy."

"The real Buffy? Well then you could never love me. The real Buffy is gone. She died. All I am is an empty shell. A dead thing."

Spike moved in to comfort her, saying "Never say that. You are still the girl that I love. A girl with a sister and friends who she means the world to. How about I walk you home?"

"No thanks," Buffy spat, a hysterical look in her eyes. She punched Spike in the face with enormous force and he landed on the ground. "I don't need Spikey the peroxide poodle to walk me home. I can take care of myself."

"I'm only trying to help. Fine, do whatever you want. Just know that I love you."

"I don't care what you think, Spike. You've nothing but a dog, and that will never change. You're beneath me."

Something cracked. Spike looked at once angry and sad beyond belief. "Fine, love. But we both know whose crypt you'll knock on when you're in need of some cold comfort." With that, Spike stalked off.

Harry snapped back to earth. He couldn't believe that he had crouched in the darkness and watched this very private exchange. What was he doing?

Buffy sat on top of a gravestone and stared off into the distance. Harry took this moment to really look at her. He had never seen such a beautiful or sad girl before. Her eyes almost spilled over with misery, loneliness and unshed tears. He realized that what he was witnessing now was much more private then the earlier fight. Harry suddenly felt horrible for spying. He decided to go introduce himself to her.

Harry walked out of the darkness, dreading the awkwardness of the situation. But it's the least I can do after spying on her. He was standing in front of her before she even realized he was there. Harry nervously cleared his throat.

"Hmm?" Buffy asked before snapping out of her own little world. She glanced down from the gravestone she was sitting on and saw a guy standing in front of her. Hmph. Slayer senses my ass. The guy she noticed, was actually pretty cute. In a lanky, nerdy way, but still. He did have messy black hair and bright green eyes though, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Whoever he was, he hadn't tried to kill her yet, and that was always a good sign.

"I just couldn't help but notice…well I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, erm, see that…but yea I noticed that a vampire called you 'slayer' and I'm um from the ministry" Harry finished lamely.

Buffy arched an amused eyebrow before her face turned to stone. "Wait, did you say you were spying on me?" The benefit of the doubt was gone. There was nothing Buffy hated more then feeling vulnerable or not being in charge of the situation.

Harry suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. There was no trace of the sad Buffy or the amused Buffy who he had witnessed for a moment. Her features were hard now and she gave him an icy, penetrating stare. It had been a long time since a girl had turned Harry into a babbling idiot, but the look on Buffy's face made him want to melt into a puddle or disappear.

"You! Who are you! You're with the Watcher's Council aren't you?" she asked accusingly. "I knew that you people would come back! Didn't you get the message the first couple of times! I don't work for you anymore. I quit you back when the mayor was in town and I reminded you of the balance of power when you came to tell me about Glory. What did they send you to say?" she asked, roughly grabbing Harry by the shirt collar and slamming him against a headstone. She gave him a twisted grin. "What does Travers want to know now? How I died? How I clawed my way out of my own grave? Or is that too unseemly? Does he wanna know how Willow did it? Does he want to know if I came back wrong? If I did, does he actually think that he could kill me?" Buffy let him go, a look of savage triumph in her face. "Well you can just tell him to go to hell!"

"Erm" was all Harry could say. He could feel a bruise forming where she had grabbed him around the neck. "Who exactly is the watcher's council?" Not for the first time that night, Harry found himself wondering Who is this girl?