Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. Joss Whedon owns the concept of the Slayer.
Chapter four – ElizabethHarry awoke the next morning to a highly irritating clicking nose, sounding just below his right ear. At first he didn't acknowledge it, thinking it must be the alarm clock, but then he remembered he hadn't set the clock the previous night. In fact, Harry was positive that there was no alarm clock at all in this room.
Harry opened his eyes and fiddled for his glasses on the stand next to the bed. He put them on, the blur in front of his eyes fading.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Harry cried. He hastily scrambled back, almost falling off of the other side of the bed.
There was a lobster sitting on the stand next to his bed; its sharp red pincers waved threateningly in Harry's direction. Harry stared at it, slack-jawed and disbelieving. It was the same lobster he had spotted last night, the same one that had caused such pandemonium in the resort kitchen.
What was it doing here? And more importantly, how did it get in his room?
Harry slowly stepped off the bed, all the while staring at the crustacean in case it tried to make dash across the mattress. Carefully, Harry bent over and reached for his jeans. He slipped his wand from his jean pocket. Quick as a flash Harry pointed it at the crab and stupefied it before it had a chance blink.
Harry sighed, half in relief, half in baffled exasperation. The morning hadn't even started properly and he'd already had some excitement.
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Dumbledore was dressed in an almost classy black muggle suit. The reason it was only almost classy was because he was wearing a tie with rubber duckies on it. His white hair and beard contrasted sharply against the dark suit, making them all the more noticeable. He was sitting at the round bar, chatting to the stout barkeep, and drinking a smoking concoction out of a golden goblet. Harry walked up to the Headmaster with the unconscious lobster dangling from his hand. The barkeep spotted him first, his expression bemused. Dumbledore turned around, took one look at Harry and the lobster, and started chuckling.
"I believe you have yet to introduce us, Harry," he said, still chuckling.
Harry grew red. "I don't know how it got in my room Sir. I woke up to it near my pillow."
"Hmm," Dumbledore said, taking another gulp of his drink. "May I?"
Harry gratefully handed the lobster over to the headmaster. Dumbledore placed it belly-up on the bar and stared experimentally poking it. The barkeep looked between it and the headmaster, shaking his head.
"I'll leave you to it then Dumbledore," he said, and walked off to the other end of the bar where a honeymooning couple had just arrived.
Dumbledore continued examining the lobster, turning it from side to side, probing it's sharp pincers, peering at its many legs, and finally settling it back the right way up.
"Of course," Harry heard him mumble. "Most ingenious, very sneaky."
"Sorry Sir, but what's sneaky?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore looked around at Harry, his expression glowing.
"This is a blearglob Harry. A magical lobster, if you will. They make marvellous spies. After all, who would suspect a lobster of spying? See its antennae? They act rather like muggle satellite signals, transmitting images and information from around them to another one of their species. It can also be described as what muggles call telepathy over a great distance."
Harry grew alarmed. "Well, who sent it to spy on me? I noticed it last night too. Do you think it could be Voldemort, Professor?"
To Harry's surprise Dumbledore only chortled. "No Harry, the only beings I have ever known who were able to tame a blearglob and utilize its abilities are Slayers." Dumbledore smiled, as if waiting for Harry to process his words.
Harry did, gazing with awe at the lobster.
"It seems Harry, that your sister is most impatient to meet you. Not to mention probably extremely worried about your safety. We will appease it of her soon, once we get going. But first, breakfast I think. "
Breakfast was pancakes with maple syrup and hot chocolate milk. After breakfast Dumbledore carefully placed the stupefied crustacean in a pouch, which he then tied to the belt around his waist.
"You have everything Harry?"
Harry nodded, trying not to look like a three-year-old kid in a sweet shop.
"Wonderful. Let's be on our way then."
Ten minutes later Harry found himself whizzing the air through the back entrance of the wizarding settlement, having just ridden the stone/bubble elevator. The mermaids, thankfully, had not been around at the time. It was a short flight, Dumbledore making commentaries every now and then.
"See that one!" he'd say, pointing to an especially fat pink blob twirling in the water below them. "That's a Balle Sponge-soak. It tricks people into thinking they're sponges and harmless to pick up, but when you do pick them up, they attach themselves to your face and –"
There was a horrible sucking noise.
"Well, you get the message Harry."
They landed on a narrow strip of sand in front of a caged door at the end of the tunnel.
With their brooms shrunk and hidden, Dumbledore tapped three times on the door with his wand. It opened, revealing a potholed road. Way beyond the road, Harry could see a hilly landscape with muggle houses and buildings on it. There were also a lot of different trees he had never seen before. Gum trees seemed the most prominent. But near them, next to the beach, palm trees appeared to take up most of the space.
Dumbledore shut the door and checked the watch on his wrist.
"I don't know what's taking so long," he mumbled to himself. "I called an hour ago. Ahh, here it is."
Harry turned in time to see an orange and black taxi pull up beside them. The driver looked to be in his mid-fifties, but that could only be because of the shock of white hair on his head. Harry got in first. Dumbledore followed, sliding in at the front next to the driver.
The taxi driver's expression could only be called befuddlement at Dumbledore's appearance. He hadn't stopped staring at Dumbledore's hair and beard since they'd got in.
"How long did it take you to grow that beard?" he finally asked after ten minutes of driving.
"Oh, about one hundred and fifty years," replied Dumbledore jovially. "Counting the split ends I had to trim. I had an especially difficult time in the seventies when by beard caught fire. Singed half of it off, and I've been growing it interminably ever since."
The taxi driver looked confused, as though he was trying to work out whether Dumbledore was joking. "But that doesn't really tell me your one hundred and fifty years old, mate. You were definitely alive in the seventies," he said, thinking Dumbledore's 'joke' had fallen on the flat line. "So was I for that matter."
"Ah," said Dumbledore, all knowingly. "But I never specified which seventies. My beard was burnt in 1879."
Harry sniggered. Dumbledore chuckled.
"I see you gotta sense of humour there," the driver said, finally laughing along with them. "Or else you're crackers."
"I have been called that at many points in my life, yes."
"You know, the scary thing is," said the taxi driver, now peering at Dumbledore through speculative eyes. "I have this weird feeling you're telling the truth."
Dumbledore's eyes were on twinkle overload.
"We shall never know," he responded.
Twenty minutes later they were driving next to the suburbs along the coast, where Harry saw glimpses of very tanned people with surfboards lounging on the sand by the water, or else sitting on park benches eating lunch. The driver had been puttering them with questions the whole way.
"So you're from England?" he would ask.
To which Dumbledore would reply, "Yes."
"Is it cold there?"
"Not at the moment, as it is summer."
"Right.
And the rest of the conversation continued along the same line.
Sometimes, the driver would point out famous places or buildings.
"That's where we kept the convicts about a hundred years ago. Now it's a museum," he would say, gesturing to an old-fashioned building at the top of a headland.
To which Dumbledore would reply, "Yes, I happened to be visiting when Brown-nosed Bob was executed."
To which the driver would exclaim, "But that was over a hundred and thirty years ago!"
Dumbledore would very deviously tap the side of his nose.
They continued travelling along the coast, driving passed small food stalls, clothes shops and motels, then journeying the length of a large hill. From the view on the hill, behind the trees and bushland, Harry could see the ocean, a couple of islands, and in the distance to his far right, he could barely make out the cliff that housed the wizarding settlement. At last the taxi pulled up in front of a very large, very mugglish, very expensive looking double-story house that resided on the crest of the hill, overlooking the ocean. It was literally smothered in trees and damp foliage at all sides.
"Thankyou very much," said Dumbledore as he and Harry stepped out of the taxi. Dumbledore scrounged through his muggle suit and paid Stan (the driver) and waved merrily until he was out of sight.
Harry fought hard not to skip like an idiot as he and Dumbledore made their way up the drive. He would be meeting his sister in the next couple of minutes. It boggled. Thoughts flashed at super speed through Harry's brain as he tried to imagine different scenarios. He thought of what she might look like. If, perhaps, she would have red hair like his mum? Will she be tall or short or somewhere in the middle? Will she look like Hagrid, with gianormous muscles? And the most important one, will she like him, or will she like The-Boy-Who-Lived? After all, she knew nothing about him. Only the things Dumbledore told her.
That last thought depressed Harry, and he was in a grumpy mood by the time they reached the front door. He wasn't too far-gone in his thoughts not to notice Dumbledore knock on it, though, or jump back as it violently flung open.
Harry had only a split second to appreciate the girl's prettiness before she squealed, arms waving dangerously, and reached over and yanked him to her chest, almost crushing his ribs in the process. Harry could taste the scent of sea and watermelon in her hair and he breathed in deep. This was his sister! This was Elizabeth. It was all happening so fast.
"My Harry," she mumbled against his neck, and to his horror, Harry felt a hotness sting his eyes. He squeezed them shut, all the while marvelling that two simple words should make him feel this way. He never realised how much he needed a true family until that moment.
They reluctantly parted, Elizabeth, though, still held onto his arms, and properly, for the first time since forever, the siblings perused each other's features. Harry was, to put it bluntly, amazed at the resemblance she had to him. Her hair was shiny, black and wavy, falling passed her shoulders. She was a little taller than him, but that was to be expected, he supposed, considering she was older and he had yet to have a proper growth spurt.
She had Harry's ears, Harry's smile, and Harry's green eyes. (Which were suspiciously glassy) Hers weren't framed by spectacles, however, and he found this made them look bigger, more exotic. She was wearing denim overalls, with paint smeared on them. Definitely not like the Dursleys. She was so beautiful. And she was his family. No one else's. Harry was hers and she was Harry's.
"Oh Harry," she said, and cupped his cheek, all the while staring into his eyes and shaking her head, as though she couldn't really believe she was finally meeting him. Harry couldn't believe it either. He felt like he wasn't himself, but rather, an outsider looking in. As though he was watching himself through a camera. Surely this wasn't happening to him? Surely this wasn't his life? But it was and he was so glad, so grateful, that he could have this experience, this family.
"Am I not going to get a hello, Elizabeth?"
Dumbledore had stepped through the threshold next to Harry holding his arms out. Elizabeth laughed good-naturedly, released Harry, and more or less flung herself in the headmaster's arms.
"Of course Uncle Albus," she said, giving Dumbledore a squeeze and Harry felt his jaw slacken. Uncle Albus?
Dumbledore grunted and coughed, though his face showed approval and warmth. "If you will let up on your embrace Elizabeth? My bones are not as strong as they used to be."
"Oh sorry," said Elizabeth her cheeks going red, and stepped back from Dumbledore. "It's just, I can't believe you're here. I can't believe Harry is really here." She smiled and grabbed his hand, curling her fingers around his. Harry tried to smile back, but found it impossible to do so, as he was already grinning. In fact, he was sure he hadn't stopped smiling since he'd come through the door.
Then suddenly she let go of his hand, looking shocked. "But what am I doing? Come in, come in, you two! No! Don't take your shoes off!" she exclaimed, gesturing haphazardly with her hand, which would have knocked Dumbledore's nose if he hadn't jumped back. "I haven't had time to do the floor anyway. You won't believe the mess this place has been in. I only had time this morning to clean up the lounge and fix the broken furniture. Would you believe a werewolf smashed its way through the back door last night?"
She continued chattering as she led them through the front hall and into the living room. Harry, his arm in hers, could only gape stupidly at her. Though he wasn't sure if the reason was because he was still shocked at her presence, or because he was so caught up in her personality, which he found he liked very much. She was just a ball of mindless energy and continuous chatter.
Harry gazed with awe at his surroundings as they stepped into the living room. The wall opposite wasn't a wall but a huge glass design that looked out into the ocean. The large marble kitchen sat tucked to his left. Stairs next to the kitchen wound to the upper level in a spiral. He didn't know, but he had a feeling Elizabeth was rich.
Elizabeth was still talking.
"I had to apparate to Ayres Rock last week. A Sand Demon was terrorising the muggle tourists. Of course, no one knew I went there. But they knew something was done about it. It was in the local paper and everything. Wizards thought it was Auroras being mysterious. Tony thought, you remember Tony, right Uncle? My best friend from school?
"Anyway, he thought it might have been leechwabs, but I told him leechwabs were water dwellers and they can't live in the desert and he shut up. Good thing too, he was beginning to annoy me. Now," she finally said, shuffling them onto a red leather couch. She reached under the coffee table and handed them two bottles of butterbeer, then she stood up, hands on hips. "Are you going to say anything Harry, or are you going to sit there like a petrified person? You haven't opened your mouth since you came through the door."
Then she put her hands to her face, looking horrified. "Oh no, don't tell me you're mute – no that's not right, Uncle Albus would have said something. You know I have yet to hear your voice. Come on say something. Don't be shy now. We're family, you know. I'll be washing your underwear in the days to come, after all. No secrets in this house."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as Harry cracked up. He couldn't help it. He watched as a blush spread its way from Elizabeth's neck to her cheeks.
"I suppose I have been blathering on, haven't I?" she admitted, seating herself on a cushion next to Harry. Harry though, wasn't paying attention. He was too busy trying to register what she'd said.
"What do you mean you're going to be washing my underwear? Am I staying here?" He addressed that last bit at Dumbledore, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
"And so he speaks!" Elizabeth said, laughing and jumping up from her cushion. "Of course you'll be staying here Harry. Or rather, in the new house when I move back to England in a couple of weeks. You're never going back to Aunt Petunia's again. I remember her you know? I was only four, and that was the first time I ever met her, but I remember thinking she looked like a horse."
Harry snorted.
"Still does, doesn't she?" she said slyly, catching Harry's response. "Well her lack of presence won't make you cry, I'm sure. Now, anyone up for some nibbles?"
A few minutes later Elizabeth had unearthed from the bowels of her cupboards one half eaten Mars Bar, a Chocolate Frog, and two dozen packets of Chocolate Mousse.
"I get depressed living here on my own," she explained to Harry's questioning look. "But that won't be a problem now," she added, and Harry felt his ears go red with pleasure.
Meanwhile Dumbledore was taking out the lobster from the pouch at his belt. "I have something for you Elizabeth," he told her, holding up the clicking crustacean.
Elizabeth gasped, looking delighted. "Sigmund!" she proclaimed, and snatched the lobster from Dumbledore's grasp. Then she frowned. "Why is he all floppy like this Dumbledore? Why can't he walk properly?" Elizabeth had put Sigmund on the ground, and had tried to encourage him with the toe of her foot. She glared up at Dumbledore.
The headmaster held his arms aloft, looking a bit apprehensive. "Now, now, Elizabeth. He has been stunned – " and that was as far as he got.
"Stunned?" she repeated in a disbelieving sort of tone. She hoisted Sigmund up from the ground and held him around the middle. "What do you mean stunned? You know what he is, don't you? How could you stun him?" She flapped the lobster under Dumbledore's nose.
The old wizard jumped back in alarm as an especially fat pincer almost nipped the crooked tip of the bone. Harry was unabashedly staring at this display, never having met anyone who treated the headmaster as his sister was doing now.
"Now Elizabeth, you didn't let me finish."
Elizabeth paused in mid-flop, then blushed. "Sorry Uncle."
Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "It's quite alright. Youth can be unpredictable."
Elizabeth blushed again and mumbled something, her brow frowning in a show of her confusion. "But if you didn't stun him, who did?"
Harry gulped and looked at Dumbledore with some alarm.
"Ahh . . . I don't know," said Dumbledore, catching Harry's look. "We found him that way."
"Well, I suppose that's alright, as long as I don't find out who it was. Now, how 'bout some real food? Lunch perhaps? Pizza? I've got some vouchers here somewhere." She waltzed to the kitchen and rummaged through some drawers. "Aha!" she exclaimed, triumphant. "Junk mail is good for something after all. And by the way Harry, next time you have an urge to stun my pets, clear it with me first, alright?"
Harry could only nod, admiring her all the more. He had a feeling he would often be forced to respect her in that way, and he didn't think that was a bad thing.
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"You went up against a basilisk when you were only twelve?" Elizabeth rounded on Dumbledore, who looked taken aback. "What could you have been thinking, Dumbledore? He was only a baby!"
Harry bristled at this, but at the same time he felt ridiculously pleased at her announcement. She had often said sentences of the like during the course of their meal, and Harry, who had never had anyone mother him before (except Mrs Weasely, but that didn't count because she was Ron's mum) was not about to get tired of it any time soon. In fact, he didn't think he could get tired of it even if he tried, which he wasn't going to do.
"Now, now, Elizabeth. It's not as if I could have stopped him. He and a friend went on their own. But if it's any consolation, they also convinced the Defence Professor to go with them," Dumbledore explained.
Harry stifled a snicker. Convinced? Forced more like.
Dumbledore's mouth turned upwards at the corner.
Elizabeth looked between him and Dumbledore a while, before she slammed her glass on the wooden dinning table, making them jump, and causing little drops of milk to splatter. "That doesn't excuse anything. He was still too young. I wasn't even that young when I faced my first basilisk."
Harry, who had been taking a sip of pumpkin juice at the time, choked at this proclamation.
It was a good ten seconds later when he finally stopped coughing enough to ask, "What do you mean your first basilisk?"
Elizabeth looked puzzled, before rounding again on Dumbledore, who looked completely calm. Evidently he was used to this by now. "I thought you told Harry about the whole Slayer deal?"
"I did, but I do not think he fully understands the duties that pertain to being one. Perhaps if you would explain it? I don't think I did it justice."
Elizabeth looked pleased at this. Her eyes glowed as she turned to Harry. "Where can I start?" Harry gave her an encouraging nod, wanting to hear more about this highly interesting sister of his.
She began, "Now, after I left England, I spent the next few years enduring a vigorous training schedule. I already had my powers by this time, of course. I've had them since I was born, as a matter of fact. Grandmother Potter was dead by then. Anyway, because I was a reigning slayer, I had to slay. What I mean is, I couldn't avoid it, destiny and all that. By the time I was eight I'd fought vampires, werewolves and all the other usual stuff. Cinchy creatures mostly . . ."
Harry could only stare in amazement. He would have thought that vampires and werewolves would classify as pretty major. But not to Elizabeth it seemed.
" . . . and by they time I was ten I'd beaten a Cyclops that was making a nuisance of itself – uh . . . they're like giants except with one eye," she explained, catching Harry's puzzled look.
"And all sorts of other things too, but I'll tell you about those adventures some other time. Oh remind me to tell you about the three-eyed banshee some time? That was hilarious. Where was I? Oh yes. Then when I was eleven I got my first letter to a Magic School. Wackenwand Magical College down in Tasmania.
"Of course I had to give up my slaying while I was at school, wouldn't be at all proper you know, especially if someone was to find out. No, I couldn't take that risk so I was forced to practice in secret, venting my tension out on my mattress, or else wrestling with my bed curtains. It was all very frustrating. And what are you grinning at?" she asked Harry good-naturedly. "It was horrifyingly unpleasant, I tell you, not even one Grindalow anywhere near the school. I thought I would go mad."
Harry, along with Dumbledore, was laughing outright at Elizabeth's false indignation.
"But what about the basilisk?" Harry asked. "How old were you when you fought your first one?"
"Fifteen. And I almost died. But that was only because it snuck up on me. I was off my guard at the time. Getting dumped can do that to you, I'm afraid."
"How can a basilisk roam free around here?" Harry asked, incredulously.
"Oh I wasn't here at the time, I was somewhere in the middle of the country. You know where it's nice and hot and there's nothing for miles around. Perfect habitat for basilisks. I'd apparated there to cool off. I mean," she added seeing her companion's contradictory looks, "to cool off from the argument with my ex. He was a muggle you know? Never would have worked out of course, what with this Slayer blood flowing through my veins. No, I need a good sturdy wizard," she added, and Harry blushed at her bluntness. Elizabeth didn't appear to notice.
"Anyway it was resting in this dirty billabong and I didn't see it loom out of the water until it pierced my shoulder with one of its fangs. I didn't die of course," she added hastily, seeing Harry's horrified look. "I got sick quick enough though, but being a Slayer, my blood was already potent all on its own, and I was able to counteract the venom. But I chopped its head off soon enough with my broad sword. After dodging a couple more swipes of its jaws, of course."
Harry realised in that moment that he had never met anyone as cool as his sister.
"Speaking of basilisks," Dumbledore said, "I believe the native muggles even have a legend of the basilisk. The wizards at the time couldn't cover up the secret."
Elizabeth chuckled. The sound made Harry feel like he was finally coming home after an extremely long day. "Yea, Australia is full of basilisks. Well not completely full, their usually very solitary creatures. Anyway, the legend was about this basilisk, the muggles called it a Big Snake, it lived in a lake and petrified any poor muggles who came to get a drink. They didn't get killed outright because they saw it through the water. They're still petrified of course. Their statues can be seen in the Australian Wizardry Museum in Sydney."
"Why don't wizards give them a mandrake potion?" Harry asked.
"They would," Dumbledore interjected. "But they've been petrified for too long. Thousands of years in fact, and if they were to give them a potion now, as soon as they wake up they would disintegrate because their bodies are so old. It was only the magic of the basilisk that kept their bodies composed. And before you ask, ancient wizards couldn't have given the muggles mandrake potion at the time because such a thing did not exist."
"Elizabeth?" Harry asked, catching on to something she'd said earlier. "How could you have apparated to the desert if you were only fifteen at the time?"
"Nothing passes this one!" she responded, looking at Harry with a mixture of pride and amazement. Harry experienced that ridiculously pleased feeling spread through his stomach again. "To answer your question, I could apparate when I was fifteen, but let's just say that the frog wasn't exactly in the pond, if you know what I mean."
Harry grinned. It seems as though his Father wasn't the only Potter who was allergic to rules.
They spent the next couple of minutes discussing all things from Quidditch ("I wanted to play, but I couldn't risk hurting someone," Elizabeth said with a sad sort of smile) to, of all people, Professor Snape ("Do you want me to slay him for you Harry?" she asked, to Dumbledore's amusement.) Somehow, the Dursley's turned up in their discussion ("What do you mean you've never tasted pizza?" Elizabeth hollered, looming protectively over Harry, her face turning red. "I'll kill those Dursley's!")
After that last reaction of Elizabeth's, Harry decided not to tell her that he had lived in a cupboard under the stairs until he was eleven.
"So . . ." he began, staring intently at Elizabeth's still fuming face. "About that werewolf smashing through your house? Is that going to be a common occurrence –?"
It did the trick. Elizabeth laughed, forgetting, for the moment, his horrible relatives.
"Well of course," she said lightly. And Harry, who had fully expected an answer in the negative, because he'd only been joking, was momentarily stumped.
Elizabeth, seeing his expression, chuckled. "I'm a Slayer Harry," she explained. "You can say part of my power is that I can feel dark creatures, and part of theirs is that they can feel me. And they will seek me out if I'm close enough, even if they can't help themselves, like werewolves. And I have to do the same. It's a tit for tat situation. Well," she added, a pensive look on her face. "Until I kill or beat them."
Harry blanched.
"Oh don't worry!" she said, catching his suddenly pale countenance. "I don't kill werewolves. They're people after all. But something like, say, a basilisk? Then I have no qualms about chopping them up."
Harry then decided never to get on Elizabeth's bad side unless he valued his health.
"So what did you do with the werewolf after you – er – beat it?"
Elizabeth bit heartily into a pizza slice and answered, in a much more dignified way than Ron ever could with a full mouth, "Took him back to his house and chained him up. I sat with him last night until he changed back into a man. You can be certain I gave him a stern talking to this morning, about how he shouldn't roam around unchecked –"
"You know him?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"'Course! He's the baker!"
Harry was confused. So was Dumbledore for that matter.
"You two are hopeless!" Elizabeth said, gulping her food. "The baker that works in The Wormhole? In the eighth tunnel across?"
Harry remembered seeing yesterday night that the bakery had been closed. Both he and Dumbledore developed dawning expressions.
"Now they get it!" Elizabeth said, throwing her hands in the air in a show of her false exasperation.
"Wait a minute. D'you mean to say you were in Wrigadoogong last night?" asked Harry, thinking he might have walked right passed her without knowing.
Elizabeth nodded, her mouth filled with pizza.
"How did you manage? A great werewolf, wouldn't someone have seen it?"
"Disillusionment charm," she mumbled through the pizza.
Harry, who had never heard of such a thing, assumed it must act like an invisibility cloak.
"That must be when you dropped off Sigmund," Dumbledore said knowingly.
Elizabeth frowned. "No, I sent him off on his own a couple of nights ago, when I wrote Harry the letter. I had a feeling you might take Harry to the Shellock Ups. I was right wasn't I?"
"It wasn't a very wise decision Elizabeth," Dumbledore chided.
Elizabeth's head whipped around. "What do mean?" she asked very quickly.
"Just that he was about to become dinner for some of the patrons."
Elizabeth's half-eaten pizza slice dropped from her hand and landed face down on the table. Her pallor seemed rather green.
"Sigmund . . .? Dinner . . .?" she stuttered. Then she sighed looking rather tired. "Emma never would have forgiven me."
"Emma?" prodded Harry.
"Sigmund's wife," Elizabeth answered, staring at a spot on the table.
Harry and Dumbledore exchanged looks.
Elizabeth caught them. "I'm not crazy. Blearglobs mate for life you know. They have their own ceremony and everything. In fact, I married them."
This, it seemed, only seem to encourage Harry's and Dumbledore's opinions that Elizabeth might have had one too many butterbeers.
"Granted," Elizabeth continued with a sly sideways look at her companions. "I was only five at the time. But it was a beautiful ceremony nonetheless. Sigmund in a smashing black bow tie and top hat, and Emma with a silky white vale . . ." she sighed. "Those were the days."
Harry just stared. Dumbledore smirked.
Elizabeth looked at Harry. "Oh come on Babe," she said, waving a hand. "This is the wizarding world! Animals here are nothing like those in the muggle world. Okay, I have to admit that Sigmund and Emma might not have known they were actually getting married. Actually, they probably don't know what the word means. But they knew they were making me happy if they participated, and that's all that counts right?"
Harry came out of his shock to say, "They have human characteristics?"
"Not really, they can just understand me, and probably you as well since you're my brother. Same blood and all that."
"So . . . so this same blood," Harry began, suddenly feeling anxious. "It wouldn't give dark creatures any cause to come after me would it? Like they do to you?"
Elizabeth smiled widely. "You know Babe, that's a good question."
Harry went red, both with pleasure and embarrassment. This was the second time she'd called him that. And for someone who'd never had an affectionate nickname bestowed on him, it was a little overwhelming, but in a good way.
"But I don't think you have anything to worry about," she concluded, hauling herself up from the chair. "I am stuffed! Harry!" she said suddenly, making him jump. "Remind not to eat so much next time.
"So what do you guys want to do now? Watch TV. I've got videos and DVD's. You know," she added, laughing. "I've got this kids movie called Casper Meets Wendy. I crack up every time I watch it. It's sort of like the muggle take on witches. They even have cauldron's and wands, and broomsticks, and ghosts, and this evil warlock who apparates. It's really cool. What do you say Uncle Albus?"
Dumbledore looked between Harry and Elizabeth's faces, and checked the watch on his wrist. "Well, I really should be going right now, but I think I can stay for a few more hours at least. Hogwarts will not suffer without me."
"Choice!" Elizabeth said.
Harry didn't recognise the term, but he had a feeling it was one of those 'in' words. Harry was reminded again of how cool his sister was. He chuckled inwardly. His sister. He was still slightly amazed at how easy the transition had been for him. One minute he hadn't had a sister; the next minute he not only had a sister, but a sister who believed that fighting dark creatures was easier than making toast. He had a feeling she and Charlie – whom he'd always thought was brave and adventurous due to his hazardous occupation – would get along. But despite her dangerous hobby, Elizabeth was just so, so sparkly, and he couldn't help but like her. And he wouldn't be surprised if she had a black leather jacket hanging in her cupboard. He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione about her.
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A couple of hours later they were watching the credits roll at the end of Casper Meets Wendy. Dumbledore was still chuckling.
"Who would have thought that you could make people out of a bunch purple goop?" he asked himself. "If I'd have known that I would have created multiple me's long ago, so that the real me could relax on vacation forever in the Bahamas."
The image Harry had of Dumbledore last year smearing sunscreen on his crooked nose flashed through his thoughts and he snorted before he could stop himself. Elizabeth must have had similar thoughts because she was full out cracking. Her face was red, she was holding onto her stomach, and it seemed she could hardly breath.
"I need some water!" she said finally, and dashed off to the kitchen. But she came back a while later with three bowls of ice cream. "I've put chocolate sprinkles on them," she said happily.
Dumbledore, however, declined. "I cannot Elizabeth, I have already stayed long enough from the castle – "
"But isn't it night time there?" Elizabeth stated, looking indignant.
"Yes, but there are other things I must take charge of . . ."
Dumbledore seemed to be giving Elizabeth a sort of hint, because he narrowed his eyes at her until she nodded, mouthing the word Oh. Harry reminded himself to question Elizabeth on that look.
"Now Harry," Dumbledore said, turning towards him. "I'm giving you a choice. You can owl your Godfather and your friends, explaining to them the situation – that you have found your sister and are currently living with her. Or, you can wait until two weeks when you will go back to England and see them. Either way you cannot mention anything about the Slayer, that is a secret only Elizabeth can choose to reveal."
"I don't know," said Harry, looking between his sister and the headmaster and scratching the back of his head. "It's not exactly the sort of thing you can put in a letter. And," he added with a shy grin, looking down at his shoes, and not believing he could be so daring as to say this, "I'd like to keep Elizabeth to myself for a bit. And keeping the others in suspense won't hurt either."
Both Elizabeth and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.
"So what do you plan on telling them?" asked Elizabeth, her green eyes sparkling with inner warmth. "That you're still living with the Dursley's?"
Harry shrugged. "No, actually." He noticed the puzzled look on Elizabeth's face. "Well it's not as if they're going to ask where I am. They'd still assume I'm at the Dursley's wouldn't they?"
"You little Slytherin!" Elizabeth exclaimed, and Dumbledore laughed at Harry's bewildered expression.
Harry, still blushing, thought it was time to change the subject. "So you mentioned something about moving in two weeks?"
Dumbledore was all business. "Yes. Elizabeth is having a house built in Surrey – "
"Surrey!"
"In Little Whinging as a matter of fact . . . Don't look so surprised Harry. This way you can be closer to your blood kin. It will offer you a greater protection from Voldemort, and you will live in an area you are already familiar with. But you won't be moving there right away. The house will not be finished by the time you go to England. It's being built the muggle way after all."
"Then, where will we be staying?"
"Sirius has a house – "
"Sirius?" Harry asked quickly. Surely he hadn't heard right? Then, "He has a house?"
"Sirius has kindly offered us the use of his family home. Those opposed to Voldemort are using it as headquarters for our operation. The Weasley's and Miss Granger will be staying there also."
Harry couldn't believe it! He would be living with his best friends and Sirius and Elizabeth all under one roof. It was like he'd entered a waking dream. Everything was going right. Suddenly, Voldemort and all problems associated with him didn't seem to matter anymore. He was on the other side of the world. He had no idea where Harry was. And even if he somehow found out, Harry had a Slayer on his side. He was likely more protected than he'd ever been in his whole life.
"I will leave you then Harry. Elizabeth, go easy on him would you. I do not want to come back in two weeks to find Harry lying in a coma on the kitchen floor."
"What are you accusing me of?" she asked, a sly smile adorning her lips. "I would never propose to corrupt young Harry here. And I would die before hurting him."
She slapped a hand on Harry's back, causing his knees to buckle and forcing him to the floor.
"Oh, sorry!" she said sheepishly.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but the foremost emotion appeared to be concern on his wrinkled face. "That is exactly what I'm talking about."
"Don't worry Professor," said Harry, before Elizabeth could open her mouth. "It's like being with Hagrid. You get used to it after a while."
Dumbledore did not seem too relieved. "It is not like being with Hagrid Harry. He is not even half as strong as your sister is."
Harry gaped at him.
"'With the strength of a troll,' remember Harry."
"I do not fancy being likened to a troll, thankyou very much Uncle," said Elizabeth, yanking Harry up by his collar so that his feet momentarily left the floor, then crossing her arms. "Now if you'd said strength of a giant . . . no, that's a bad analogy. Well you know what I mean . . . And I can't believe you'd think that I would ever hurt Harry. I know my own strength, you know."
"No doubt you do. All I'm saying is to be careful. You are not used to embracing people, as I'm sure you would want to often demonstrate with Harry."
"You're right about that," she said, looking fondly over at her brother. "He's very huggable isn't he. 'Feel like giving him a squadge right now. Honestly Harry, I have no idea how you manage to keep the girls off your back. They must throw themselves at you like a pack of wolfs jumping a fresh kill."
Harry grew crimson. He really had to get used to Elizabeth's propensity for bluntness, otherwise he'd have to change his name to Harry Hot-Head.
"Look at him go!" she said, referring to Harry's now even redder face. "Really Babe, there's no need to blush. We're family. That's what families do. We rib each other. In fact, I give you my full permission to embarrass me any time you like."
Harry hadn't known families deliberately insulted each other. Or was it just Elizabeth? She, like him, had never had a family either; perhaps she didn't know how to behave as well? "I'll hold you to that," he told her.
"See, now that's what I'm talking about," she said, nipping his nose affectionately with her forefinger. "Full on throttle is the way to go. But seriously Harry, you are so easy to goad. I imagine you have a quick temper too, and there's no need to blush again. I'm only pointing out the obvious because I love you. "
Harry, alarmingly, felt the back of his eyes grow hot and he bent over quickly in the pretence of tying his shoelace. Why was he feeling this way? He'd never given in to bouts of . . . well, whatever, before. Why did it have to happen now, in front of Elizabeth and Dumbledore? Harry looked up and saw that the headmaster was staring at the ceiling, apparently fascinated by the light bulb. Elizabeth, well, Elizabeth was smiling at him with tears in her own eyes, but her fists were clenched. Though, why on earth she should be angry Harry didn't understand. He hoped he hadn't offended her.
"Now then," said Dumbledore after Harry had stood up again. "It is truly time for me to leave." He shook Harry's hand and embraced Elizabeth. "I will see the both of you in two weeks. Remember to owl occasionally and tell me how you're adjusting. Goodbye." He disappeared with a small pop.
Elizabeth moved over to Harry. "It's just you and me now Babe," she flung an arm around his shoulders and offered him an evil grin. Harry gulped. "I can't wait to take you slaying," she added with much enthusiastic inflection.
Slaying?
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A/N: Do not worry peoples; Elizabeth will definitely NOT be a Mary-Sue. I hate those. This story will be mostly from Harry's perspective. It will be his fifth year like it is in the book, but because Elizabeth is there it will change somewhat. For example, Harry will not be as angry and Cedric's death will not affect him so strongly, because he now has someone to share his feelings with without getting embarrassed. There will be loads of other changes as well, but I can't mention them because they'll affect the story.
Also, I really, really like Dumbledore, so I'm not going to portray him as bad, per say, like some fics do. He's not bad, only misguided in some respects regarding Harry, which he comes to realise at the end of book five. However, in this story, he will realise it earlier (hint hint)
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REVIEW PLEASE! I understand I can't get more reviews because by the time I submit a chapter a load of other people have submitted their's too, and my story gets pushed back to the second or third page, so you can't immediately see it. But if you do find it and read it, I would like a review.