Disclaimer: A few things. First of all, the Twilight series was written by Stephanie Meyer. Second of all, the Harry Potter series was written by J. K. Rowling. Third of all, I do not like the Twilight series. Fourth of all, I love the Harry Potter series. And finally, if you have read any of my other stories, you'll know that I am crazy about canon. But this story is not exactly canon, because I'm switching around the dates a little so I can make the two series overlap just the way I want them to. Otherwise, everything else will be okay. Oh yeah, and also uncharacteristically of me, I don't care if Bella and Edward aren't exactly IC, because I haven't picked up a Twilight book since I read them two years ago and I'm not planning to now. Plus, Bella has only this one eensy-weensy part here, and Edward and Xenophilius Lovegood will be super young anyway, so it's not like they will be exactly the same as they were in their books. Okay, that's it. Yeah. Bye-bye. Enjoy!

Prologue:

Two shadowy figures loomed over a small, sleeping form in a crib.

One spoke. "We'll have to move her out again. Must she grow so fast?"

"Shh…" the second figure said softly, putting his finger to his lips as he watched his child with a tender expression. "We have enough money to get through a million cribs."

"She'll need them," Bella sighed, but looked at her husband's face rather than her daughter's hungrily as Edward touched his lips.

He noticed her gaze. "Now, Bella?"

"It's that or we have to go hunting again."

"Hm. I obviously haven't been a very good teacher if that's your only view of thirst."

"I'm not going to be a drug addict, if that's what you mean."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt you, and you'd have an eternity to get out of it, but that's not what I was talking about."

She sat on the bed, bouncing a few times for good measure, and waiting patiently for him to continue.

"The anesthetic qualities of storytelling," he quoted, with his perfect memory, honed and honed over a course of a few hundred years. "Diane Setterfield, debut masterpiece, the Thirteenth Tale." Bella would have rolled her eyes and urged him to hurry, but she decided to humor her husband. "Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Kate DiCamillo, in The Tale of Despereaux."

"Please, Edward," Bella growled. "Is there a point to this or are you just going to keep proving that you read too much?"

"Too much, love? Ay, there's the rub," sighed Edward, and at Bella's glare he grinned. "Fine, fine… Instead of sex, or blood, I will give you something just as good, something better. I will tell you a story. And you will love it. Not as much as you love me, but you will love it all the same. End of story."

"I'm not five, Edward, when all I needed were Charlie's bedtime tales of the Princess and the Pea."

"Shush! I'm about to blow you away with my amazing true story of me, a witch, a wizard, prejudice, and a bit of blood-"

"There are wizards?" Bella gasped, already hooked.

"Duh. Vampires, werewolves-that-are-actually-shape-shifters, and werewolves exist, so why not wizards? And giants, and centaurs, and acromantula, and the Loch-Ness Monster, and-"

"Shut up and start the story."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, as I was saying…"

A/N: One, review. Two, as I'm juggling two stories at a time (as well as life), I'm not sure how fast my updates will be, sorry about that. Love you all!