Harry and Ginny made their way down to the kitchen. Neither of them had any clue what was going on. When they got there they saw a man who looked rather business like. He stood out like a sore thumb in the oddity that was The Burrow. The man wore a gray suit with a green tie, sporting the Slytherin colors. He had thick glasses on and his hair was a curly, sort of neat mess.

When he spotted the two teenagers he stood up and held out his hand. "I suppose you two must be Harry and Ginny." He spoke with a native accent. Harry had a look on his face that clearly stated he did not trust the man. Ginny shook his hand politely.

"Yes," she said, hospitably, "And you must be Rupert Giles." He nodded. Then she added inquiringly, "What is it that you want here? We've never heard of you and your outfit certainly suggests that you are not our ally."

Mrs. Weasley lightly tapped Ginny on the shoulder, clucking. Hermione stepped forward and said, "Don't worry, Ginny. He showed your mum a letter from Dumbledore saying it was all right that he comes. He's from the States."

"Oh," said Harry, still looking at Giles suspiciously. Then he turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Is he our kind or a muggle?"

"Muggle," she said, flatly, "But Dumbledore gives him his full trust."

"Yeah," said Harry, "But he also gives his full trust to Snape, and you saw how that came out last year."

Hermione butted in, "Just because Snape didn't teach you Occlumency properly doesn't mean that he's evil. He hasn't told Voldemort about the Order yet!"

"I'm not so sure about that," said Harry.

"Harry!" clucked Mrs. Weasley.

Harry looked down, "Sorry. My feelings got the best of me."

Mrs. Weasley continued on, "Now Mr. Giles is a good man. You must listen to him. He has something very important to say."

They all looked at Giles, waiting for him to speak. "I have it on good authority," he started, "That there is one among you here who is Chosen-a slayer of vampires."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dumbledore looked down at the letter which he had just written.

Dear Sir,
I am once again in need of your assistance. Is it possible that you could put an add in the Prophet these next few weeks offering a job for any person, muggle or magic-folk, who could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School this coming term. I know that this is the sixth year consecutively that I am requesting an ad for this position, but as usual, I am desperate.

Please dismiss the letter I sent an hour ago asking for an ad for a History of Magic professor and Flying Professor/Quidditch Referee. I am interviewing two applicants today, and unless they are totally useless I assume that they will receive the job. Thank you for your time. If it was wasted then I am sure you can use your time turner to redo these past few minutes. I hear you keep them in stock at the Ministry.
Albus Dumbledore
Just as he finished writing it, there was a knock at his door. "Come in," he said. Professor McGonagall walked into his office.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said, "I have the applicants here for you to interview."

"Good," said Dumbledore, "Have they seen each other?"

"No," said McGonagall, puzzled, "I don't believe they have, but-,"

"Then send them both in," interrupted Dumbledore. "I have a feeling that this will be a happy reunion for them." McGonagall nodded and went outside. A minute later a boy, about twenty years old entered the office. Then a minute after him a girl, about eighteen years of age entered. They both stood in front of Dumbledore, staring at each other in disbelief.

"I think," said Dumbledore, "That you two will be very happy working here at Hogwarts." They both nodded in unison, smiling at each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So," said Ron, "This slayer bloke, they're supposed to go around, killing all vampires and demons so they can save the world?"

"Well, not entirely," said Giles, "But it is close."

"Oh," said Ron, "Then you probably want Harry. He's the one who always gets stuck saving the world."

"No," said Giles, "It couldn't possibly be Harry."
"Why not?" asked Ginny.

"Because," stated Giles, "The slayer is always a young women, usually called near the age of fifteen."

Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George all stared at Ginny and Hermione, who were, in turn, staring at each other in disbelief.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Angel sighed. He knew logically that the Necro-tinted glass would keep him from burning and that a crash wouldn't kill him. Unfortunately, he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept that these flying machines could actually work. Being born in the 18th century may have had something to do with it. He tried to relax, but found it impossible. To be cliché, it was going to be a long fight.

Connor O'Brien smiled as he stepped of the plane. He loved flying, if only for the adrenaline rush. He was also incredibly excited to be seeing Europe for the first time. He had always felt a certain pull towards the so- called Old World that he couldn't explain. It was like coming home. This was not a secret, to say the least. His mother and father had saved to make a grand tour of the continent the last family vacation before he started college. As he walked towards the baggage claim with his parents and younger sister he had no idea, that in less than twenty-four hours, his life would change again.

The next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed, the O'Briens headed out. They spent the entire day in London; shopping, eating, exploring, and generally acting like tourists. At nine O'clock it had gotten dark and they were preparing to head back to the hotel. They would never make it there.