Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. No matter how much I may wish otherwise.

Harry and Katalina Potter had been ignored by their parents since Halloween night of 1981. The night their little brother David had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. The instant it had been confirmed, the two had had to look after themselves. They had been two years old at the time. They taught themselves to walk, to read, to write, to speak. They had learned to make their own meals and, while still learning magic, had managed to talk their 'Uncle Moony' into getting them muggle tutors. The only thing the werewolf had ever done for them. Of course, once the tutors had realized what was going on, they had agreed to tutor the two for free. Their godfather, Sirius, didn't even notice them. Hell, they doubted any of them even remembered their names. They kept their silence until their sixth year. In their sixth year they finally broke. They had come home for summer holidays and their mother had asked them if they were friends of their brothers. Katalina's face turned as red as her fiery hair, her hazel eyes hard, flashing with rage.

"NO WE'RE BLOODY WELL NOT FRIENDS OF DAVID'S YOU TWIT! WE'RE YOU'RE CHILDREN! YOU'RE TWO ELDEST TO BE EXACT! DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER OUR NAMES? DO YOU KNOW WHAT BLOODY YEAR WE'RE IN AT HOGWARTS?" she demanded, her body shaking with barely repressed fury. A wind had started to thrash around them, whipping her hair above her head. She snarled at the adults in the room. James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus all paled as they suddenly remembered that the Potters had two other children. Two children they had ignored for fifteen years. Harry grabbed his sister's hand and dragged her back towards the Floo, only to stop at the mantel when his father's voice asked hoarsely,

"Where are you going?"

He turned around, an eyebrow raised.

"What business is it of yours?" he asked coolly, "You've pretended we weren't there for fifteen years, by all means, continue to do so. Only now, you're not really pretending, are you?" he mocked, "We really won't be here now. Ta, Father, Mother. Have fun with little David."

With that, he grabbed the handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, shouting 'Gringotts!'

So? What did you think? Please, no flames.