Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling has that privilege. Joss Whedon owns the concept of the Slayer.

A/N: I've changed this story to Buffy Crossovers, before it was in plain old Books. Someone pointed out to me in my other story that I've ticked I won't accept anonymous reviews from people. I didn't know that! I do now, so anyone, not just registered authors, can review my story. Again, I apologize.

Chapter Five: Adjusting.

"So what exactly are we going to slay?" Harry asked for what seemed the hundredth time that night. He and Elizabeth were walking in a graveyard.

"Vampires," she replied. She was looking around the tombstones with her wand in her hand. Seeing this, Harry took his out.

"You mean we are actually going to kill –?"

"Don't be silly, Babe! I don't kill Vampires. They're alright, really. But they do make a nuisance of themselves. It's best to incapacitate them before they do any harm. Making them eat nothing but lettuce is the most popular method to use. But I recommend chocolate, that way they actually have to buy it, rather than sneak into people's gardens and steal vegetables –"

"But I thought Vampires were only found in Romania or something," Harry said, feeling supremely confused.

Elizabeth laughed heartily. "What have you been reading? Dracula? Well I suppose that's where a number of them do live, but some can be found somewhere other than Europe. There are a lot in China, for instance."

"I didn't think there would be any in Australia," said Harry.

"There aren't that many," Elizabeth admitted. "Australia is more werewolf territory. But what did I say before, dark creatures are –"

"– attracted to you, I know," Harry said in a tone that implied he had heard that sentence one too many times.

But the truth was, Harry hadn't heard that sentence one too many times, only once or twice before, because he hadn't even known Elizabeth for a full day yet. Harry was still amazed at how comfortable he was with her. He felt like he had known her all his life. Perhaps it was because Elizabeth seemed to known him so well? Perhaps it was because their personalities coincided? Or perhaps it was nothing more than Elizabeth being his sister. Whatever it was, Harry knew he had never opened up as quickly to any person as he did towards Elizabeth. There was just something about her that made him feel entirely comfortable in her presence.

And Harry had been right; she did own a leather jacket. And now, he owned one, too. It was his "Welcome Home" gift Elizabeth had purchased specifically for him, before she'd sent him his letter with the cockatoo. To say Harry had been surprised when he'd opened the cupboard in his new room and found it hanging there with a note stating "Enjoy" was an understatement.

Now he was proudly wearing it as he hunted for Vampires. Harry had to acknowledge he didn't feel quite so weedy anymore as he heard the leather creaking at the joints. For the first time in his life, he felt cool.

Elizabeth ruffled his hair before smirking. "Like it do you? I knew you would."

"Well no one thought to get me a leather jacket before. Actually, no one's bought me clothes at all before. I have to wear Dudley's cast-offs."

Elizabeth's emerald eyes so like his own, went cold at that, reminding him, for one wild second, a lot of Sirius. He chided himself. He probably shouldn't have told her that last bit; she already hated the Dursley's enough as it was.

"So that's why you looked so, so dwarfed and skinny!" she spat through gritted teeth. Harry was not insulted, though he did go red because she noticed his lack of weight and commented on it. No one had done that before. Well, perhaps Madam Pomfrey.

"It's alright Elizabeth, really," Harry said. "I'm used to it."

This was too much for Elizabeth it seemed. "That's just it!" she exploded, and Harry jumped back in surprise, almost squashing the fresh flowers someone had placed on top of the grave behind him. "You shouldn't have to get used to it! They should have provided you with a proper childhood, they should have gotten you proper clothes – unless . . ." she paused here, looking sheepish. "Unless, they're really poor, and now I feel really stupid for not having realised it –"

Harry held up a hand. "Relax," he told her. "They're not poor. You should've been able to tell by the clothes, anyway. No poor family would have a son has porky as Dudley."

Elizabeth laughed for a second, then she scowled. "But that just means I was right about them from the off. They had no right to treat you like that Harry. You do know that?" She stared searchingly into his eyes."

"Yes," Harry said simply. "I have a best friend, Ron Weasely. His family is massive. Seven kids, and all redheads. His parents are really nice. I spend the summer at their house sometimes."

Elizabeth looked consoled at that, and she let out a breath. "That's good then. At least you know how a real family should act. But even if you didn't I would have shown you. That's what we're going to have, you know; a real family." She grinned at Harry, and Harry smiled back. He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione about her.

"So tell me about our Godfather?" she asked Harry, her wand twirling between her fingers. "Is he as much of a rebel as I remember?"

"You remember him?" Harry asked in surprise. "How can you?"

"I was four the last time I saw him, Babe, of course I remember him. Besides," she added with a sly glance back at him, "a Slayer's memories are much better than the average person's."

"But then you must remember our parents!" Harry burst out excitedly.

"I was wondering when you'd clue in to that," she said, laughing.

"But this is wicked! You know stuff about them that even Sirius doesn't, or Lupin! You remember them in their home. You remember me, then, too, right?"

"Of course I do!

"Well?" Harry said, fairly bouncing on his heels. "What were they like?"

Elizabeth chortled. "In a minute Harry. First we have do deal with that Vampire." She gestured over his shoulder.

"What –?" Harry spun around, his heart hammering. The grave he'd almost trodden on earlier was now disturbed, the dirt having rumpled, as though someone had climbed out of their coffin. And it looked like someone had. Standing next to the grave's tombstone was a Vampire, it could be nothing else. Its skin was yellow and waxy, stretching over the bones of its cheek. Its mouth was opened in an ugly grin, demonstrating to Harry, again, just why this person was a Vampire. It was wearing a lacy shirt and black pants, now dusty from the dirt of the grave it climbed out of.

The only thought Harry could process, as he watched the Vampire slink closer to him, was that Sirius really could have passed for a member of the un-dead.

"Touch him and you're toasted," growled Elizabeth, coming to stand beside him.

The Vampire paused, but only for a second. It gazed strangely at Elizabeth with its hollow, black eyes, and cocked its head to the side. Then it spoke in a soft, gravely undertone. "You are different than the younger one; your blood smells more powerful." It grinned nastily, exposing its sharp glinting fangs, and began stalking forward. "You will quench my thirst for many months to come."

Harry was becoming alarmed and not a little scared now. He knew Elizabeth could easily take the Vampire, but the way it was talking about drinking her blood, it was just creepy.

"You won't be sucking on anyone's neck today," Elizabeth told it, lifting her wand.

The Vampire scoffed. "You think a puny wizard's stick can defeat me? Already my brethren are come."

Hearing this Harry slowly turned around. About three more Vampires stood in a semi-circle behind him and Elizabeth. He gulped.

"Der!" said Elizabeth, prompting the Vampire's brow to crease in confusion. "I felt them from a mile away. And how old are you exactly?"

The Vampire smirked. "I am some three hundred years."

"So what are you doing hanging around a fresh grave? Oh, to wait for prey to come along, I suppose. Well you're not terribly smart for a three hundred-year-old dead guy."

The Vampire scowled in annoyance. "And why am I not?"

"Because you would have known that I'm the Slayer as soon as you saw me."

At this, the surrounding Vampires cackled, a grating sound that grinded down Harry's spine. It sounded like coffins and corpses.

"There is no more Slayer in these parts; he has been killed six months previous." The head Vampire said, closing in on them. The other Vampires followed suit.

"So you thought you could take advantage of the fact? Well it might be true that the Slayer's dead, but haven't you heard he has – "

"– a son, not a daughter, and he is the Slayer in these parts, not you."

"Now that's just where you happen to be wrong. I am also a Slayer. Just not for this territory. Doesn't my blood draw you in?"

"Enough lies. Get them!" The Vampire shouted and the rest charged. Harry realised, in that horrifying instant, that Vampires were extremely fast. He could only see a blur, only feel a rushing wind as they lurched towards him and Elizabeth. It took him a split second to grasp that he was going to die. He squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable.

waiting . . . .

and waiting . . .

still waiting . . .

Either these Vampires were extremely stupid and had miscalculated Harry's position, or, something had stopped them before they could reach him.

Harry opened his eyes.

The three Vampire minions that had charged at him were lying on the ground at his feet. One was clutching what looked like a broken nose, another was holding onto its stomach, and the last one was rolling from side to side pressing a knee into its chest. Harry could see a bit of splintered bone poking out of the knee socket. He turned away from the revolting sight and came face to face with Elizabeth who had the head Vampire in a tight neck-hold. The Vampire looked to be choking.

"Now what am I?" she asked it.

"S-slayer," gasped the Vampire.

"Good," said Elizabeth, and pointed her wand at its head. At this, the Vampire began struggling alarmingly. Elizabeth did not appear too concerned.

"Cotakus," she said, and an amber light spurted out of her wand, enveloping the Vampire with its glow.

"No!" it shouted, as Elizabeth realised it, sending it stumbling a good five feet away.

"Now for the rest." Elizabeth calmly walked over to the other Vampires, pointing her wand and performing the same spell on them. "You can go now," she told them after she finished, and they scattered, grumbling and limping away, though still somewhat speedily. A few seconds later they disappeared behind a mausoleum.

"Close your mouth Harry, you'll catch a fly. They're notorious in Australia don't you know."

"But . . . you . . . just . . . Vampires!"

"Exactly," said Elizabeth, grabbing his arm and steering him towards the cemetery gates. "At least I was kind to them. They'll like chocolate better than cabbage at any rate."

"I thought it was lettuce."

"Same difference."

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"So you do this often? Hunting Vampires, I mean?" Harry asked before spooning some chocolate ice cream into his mouth. He and Elizabeth had had a shower and changed into pyjamas when they'd gotten home from the cemetery. Harry's were the usual stripy ones from Hogwarts; Elizabeth's were pale pink with little watermelon buttons.

They were currently sitting in the living room watching – however weird it was – a Vampire movie Elizabeth had purchased only recently, despite the fact that the movie wasn't all that recent.

"No," she said, and plopped some ice cream in her mouth. "Vampires aren't that common in Australia, after all." Harry admired her ability to talk so fluently with a full mouth.

"What is common in Australia?"

"Like I said, werewolves. But they don't travel together. Neither do Vampires, as a matter of fact."

"Then why were – "

"– the Vampires we met tonight hunting together?"

Harry nodded.

"Safety reasons, probably. They're not completely stupid after all. They would have heard the old Slayer's died, but they would have known his son was taking his place. They wanted to be as prepared as they could. But they didn't know about me, obviously, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered trying anything at all."

"Do you often inspire such . . ." Harry paused here, gesturing instead with his hand.

"Fear?" Elizabeth said, interpreting his gesture.

"More like, I don't know, respect? A fearful respect maybe?"

"You're right about that. And yes, that always happens."

"So you're kind of famous," Harry concluded.

"Only by reputation," Elizabeth told him. "Not by name, otherwise everyone would know who I am. Have to keep it a secret, and all that."

Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the TV as Harry nodded, admiring her all the more.

"Oh, this is a good part, Harry!" she exclaimed.

The siblings watched as the Vampire onscreen grabbed the young man, lifting him high into the air and biting him, before letting him fall and crash into the water far below.

"Can Vampires fly?" Harry asked thoughtfully.

"No, but they can bewitch your mind to a certain extent. Nothing like Imperius, but it's still a violation of your will. Mind rape, I call it. Others call it Legilemency." Elizabeth snorted. "Load of rubbish, is what it is. If all Vampires were proficient at Legilemency, than everyone would be a Vampire. No, their type of bewitchment isn't even as strong as Legilemency. If you have any will at all you can throw off a Vampire's gaze. In other words, all children are safe in that regard." Elizabeth offered Harry a one-sided grin.

"What's Legilemency?" Harry asked, curious.

"Another thing you don't know? What do they teach you in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Harry felt a hotness sweep his cheeks. "We've only had one good Defence Professor, and that was in third year. We're hardly going to learn anything that complicated in third year, are we?" Harry said, defending his school.

"Fair enough. I'll have to talk to Dumbledore about what teachers he hires, though. As for what Legilemency is, it's like telepathy I suppose, only not as complex."

"Mind reading?" Harry asked quickly.

"No, there's no such thing as mind reading. More like, image reading. If you're a Legilemens you can take certain images out of people's minds and find out what they're thinking that way. It's useful if you want to catch out a liar." Elizabeth scooped out the rest of her ice cream, not noticing Harry's blanched face.

"Elizabeth?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm?" she said, gazing at the screen.

"Is there any way you can stop someone going into your mind?"

"Well of course!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "How would I go about doing that?"

Elizabeth finally turned to him, her expression sad. "You know, I'd forgotten about Voldemort," she said quietly, taking his hand in hers. "No doubt you're thinking about him now, and yes, before you ask, Voldemort is a sufficiently capable Legilemens."

"So when I meet him again he'll be able go into my mind?"

Elizabeth shot up at that, standing over Harry with hands on hips. "What do you mean when? You're never going to meet him again if I can help it!"

Harry slouched in his seat at the force of Elizabeth's temper. "But if I do . . ." he prodded.

Elizabeth sighed, flinging herself once more beside him on the couch. "If you do, we'll have to teach you Occlumency before hand."

"That's going to stop him going into my mind?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Mind you," she said. "You're going to have to be one powerful Occlumens to shut Voldemort out of your head."

"Can you teach me?" Harry asked excitedly.

Elizabeth snorted. "I'm not that good. Your headmaster's better."

Harry's face fell. Elizabeth saw it. "But, I'll do what I can," she finally said.

Harry grinned.

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"Harry! Harry! Wake up."

"Wosmatter!"

He heard a chuckle.

"It's time for my morning run. Wanna join me? We'll buff you up yet!"

Harry wondered how it was possible to blush while he was still half asleep.

"Yea, all right," he told Elizabeth, cracking open an eye. All he saw was a blur that reached out and ruffled his hair, before disappearing out the door. Harry reached over onto the night stand and put on his glasses. He looked out the large window. He had been delighted to discover yesterday afternoon that his bedroom window overlooked the ocean. But he couldn't see the ocean now, as it was pitch dark outside.

"The girl's mad!" Harry mumbled to himself, as he got out of bed. He rummaged through his inbuilt cupboard (which was a whole lot bigger than the one he'd spent eleven years in) and pulled out jeans and a shirt. He also grabbed a jumper. No doubt it was chilly outside.

Harry had also been delighted to discover that his room had an ensuit, with a built in bathroom and toilet. He went there now, brushing his teeth and doing other morning type things. He stared at himself in the mirror. Was it his imagination, or did the bags under his eyes look less baggy? He shrugged uncomfortably. That still didn't mean his nightmares had lessened.

"Babe!" Elizabeth's voice came up from the floor. "If you're not down in one minute I'm leaving without you!"

Harry quickly slipped on his shoes, tying the laces, and fairly flew out the door and down the spiral staircase. Elizabeth was standing near the kitchen bench, her hair fell in a thick plait over her shoulder. She was wearing black bike shorts and a crop top, over that she had placed a huge white zip-up sweater. She held out a white Nike hat to him. Harry took it dubiously.

"It's dark outside," he said. Nevertheless he put on the cap.

Elizabeth shrugged; placing a cap on her head, except it was black. "We'll be out for an hour at the least. You'll be surprised how quickly dawn comes. And what are you doing wearing that?"

Harry glanced down at himself. He didn't see anything wrong with what he was wearing.

Elizabeth, catching Harry's perusal of himself, rolled her eyes. "All you blokes are the same. Well come on, it's too late to change now."

After half an hour of continuos running Harry realised just what was wrong with his outfit. His jeans felt extremely uncomfortable and very heavy, sticking to his sweating legs. He felt like he was running through mud. He didn't need Elizabeth's "Told you so," to know he had made a serious error in choosing his clothes.

"We'll rest now," Elizabeth said, stopping by a park bench. Harry dropped onto it like a stone, breathing and sweating heavily. They had already run down the huge hill Elizabeth's house resided on, and now they had arrived at the spot where he'd seen those tanned surfboarders the day before. He dreaded having to go back up the hill.

"Don't worry Harry," Elizabeth said, not looking the least bit tired or sweaty. "After a week of running, half and hour will seem like a cinch. Do you want some water?"

Harry nodded weakly.

Elizabeth smirked and handed him the water bottle attached to her hip. Harry gulped the water down like he hadn't seen it in weeks.

"Now that we're resting, do you want to tell me who Cedric is?'

The water Harry was drinking went down the wrong pipe, causing him to choke. Elizabeth helped him along by pounding on his back. He figured he probably had a few broken bones.

"How do you know about Cedric?" he asked her, a bit harshly.

Elizabeth lifted a brow. "I don't, that's why I'm asking. But you were dreaming about him last night? Got anything to share Harry?" she asked with a sly smile, nudging his shoulder with her own.

Harry blushed furiously at what she was implying. "No!"

"You know I don't mind if you are, right?"

"I'm not," Harry said quickly. "Cedric's, well, he's dead now!"

"Oh," she said quietly, glancing away from him to stare at the ocean.

Harry let out a breath. "Look, did Dumbledore tell you about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Vaguely," Elizabeth said, still not looking at him. "All he said was that you and some other kid from Hogwarts were competing and that Voldemort – Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! And you blame yourself, don't you?"

Harry opened his mouth. Elizabeth didn't give him a chance to speak. "Of course you do! That's why you're having nightmares about it!"

"Look, it's alright –"

"No it's not, Harry. A kid your age should not have to go through all the things you went through." She stood up and clenched her fists. "Ooo! It makes me so mad that you had to go through all that. If I were there at the time, I would have –" she made a few alarming gestures. Harry reminded himself to introduce her to Hagrid.

"But you weren't there," Harry reminded her.

"But I will be now," Elizabeth vowed, and they both smiled.

"Let's do some stretches then. Some stomach crunches will be good for you. I'll have to remember to introduce you to my weights set at home. We'll get those arms toned up in no time."

Harry sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. He found he didn't really want to anyway.

After running back home and doing some more exercise, though this time in the way of lifting weights, Elizabeth made breakfast, then told him to go upstairs and pack his hat and a towel, and anything else he wanted to bring along to keep him amused. They were going to the beach. "I've bought you some boardies too!" she said happily, rifling through her a kitchen draw and pulling out a plastic shopping bag.

"What are board-ees?" Harry asked, bemused, thankful, and objecting at the same time.

Elizabeth looked at him cross-ways. "Boardies? Board shorts. Clothes you swim in!"

"Oh."

"I tried to find some manly ones for you. I didn't think you'd appreciate bright orange or lemon yellow, or ones with flowers on them. Men's fashion these days, I ask you!" Then she went on a lengthy tirade about girly looking clothes. "Anyway, I found these." She produced a pair of dark green "boardies" with black and white stripes down the sides. "Cool, aren't they?"

Harry could only nod. The Dursley's hadn't ever taken him swimming before, so he'd had no need for swimming trunks.

"I thought so too," Elizabeth said. "Go upstairs and try them on."

He did; and ten minutes later, with his half-finished potions essay tucked under one arm, and a towel, quill, and a bottle of ink in the other, Harry slumped dejectedly down the stairs and along the corridor.

Elizabeth, who'd been standing waiting for him by the front door took one look at him and started sniggering.

"Laugh it up," Harry told her, flatly. He knew he wasn't winning any brownie points with his white, knobbly knees showing below the board shorts and his heavy black joggers thumping stupidly with every step he took. "It's easy for you. You're attractive, and you've got that light golden tan," he said, looking her over. Elizabeth was wearing the top of a dark blue bikini and the bottom of a pair of tight looking jeans. Her black hair flowed loosely over her back. "Look at you, then look at me with my sickly white skin, crooked knees, and weedy legs."

"Well I wouldn't call them weedy, Harry."

Harry glared at her. "No one will think I'm your brother." Harry took great pleasure in saying the word 'brother'.

"Yes they will, we look exactly alike. Besides, you're way cuter than I am! Anyway, a couple of weeks in the sun and you'll get a tan too, and your knees will toughen up because you'll be running every day. You'll develop muscle on your legs. And as for those shoes," she glanced down at them, scrunching her nose in an attempt not to laugh. "They're not made for the beach; we'll fix them up now."

Elizabeth grabbed his stuff and dumped it in her beach bag, then pulled him along outside in front of the garage. She fiddled in her jeans pockets for a while, finally managing to unearth a set of keys, she pointed them at the garage door, and with a whirring noise it started lifting upwards.

Harry was met with the front of a dark blue, expensive looking sports car with the word Eunos printed on it. He gaped at it. Elizabeth had to be loaded with money.

"How did you get so rich?" He didn't quite manage to keep the disbelief from his voice.

Elizabeth laughed as they walked up to the car. She unlocked it, and they got in. Inside, it smelled like new carpet.

"Our parents were rich, Babe. Didn't you know?"

He'd known he was well off, but not that well off.

"You mean you have your own account, too?"

"Yep!" Elizabeth started the engine and turned out of the drive, the garage door closing itself behind her when she pressed the button on her keys again. He found he loved everything about Elizabeth, especially her habit of mingling the muggle with the magical. "There's a branch of Gringotts down in Sydney. Of course the main one's in London, but we get by."

They had only driven for about fifteen minutes when Elizabeth parked on the road next to a shop with a surfboard above its label. It read "Billabong."

"Here we are. This is where I got your boardies from."

They walked into the shop. It was very like a tropical hut. It had dry palm tree leaves on the ceiling and wooden poles held it together. Bags of every kind hung from the rafters, beads of jewellery and sunglasses were displayed in glass cases. Surfboards, skateboards and rollerblades littered the back of the shop, and an impossible number of clothes filled up the sides. In the middle there was a counter. Harry noticed that the shop was divided in two, one side was obviously for men, the other for women. It was quite packed.

Elizabeth walked up to the counter where a lady stood, marking something down on a sheet of paper. She had to push her way between a large women and her teenage daughter. Harry followed, growing red as the daughter smiled at him.

"Hi Jane," Elizabeth said, grinning and extending a hand.

The woman looked surprised, then she smiled. "E! What are you doing here so soon? Boardies not to your liking?"

Elizabeth laughed. "They weren't for me you twit! They're for Harry over here." She stepped aside, and Harry suddenly found himself at the unwanted attention of Jane, the large women, her daughter, and Elizabeth. Though he didn't much care about the last one.

"Who's this looker!" exclaimed Jane, and Harry grew redder than he ever had before.

"Sheath your paws, cat, that's my brother you're talking about!"

"Ooo, the long lost brother from England. You finally found him did you?"

"Yep!" Elizabeth said happily. Harry had to wonder who else she'd told about him.

"Well I'll say this," said Jane, offering a hand to Harry. Harry took it. "There's certainly a resemblance. But E's uglier."

"That's exactly what I said!" Elizabeth said joyfully. "Although not in those words."

"So what can I do for you today?" asked Jane professionally, after she and Elizabeth had a good laugh.

"Some flip flops for Harry. Just point me in the direction. I have trouble navigating around this place."

"Sure, their on your left, at the back," Jane told them.

"Thanks!" said Elizabeth, taking Harry's hand and dragging him towards the back of the store. The teenage daughter waved at him. Harry, blushing, waved back.

"Take your pick Harry."

Five minutes later they were out of the shop and back in the car with Harry wearing his new sandals. They were brown and joined at the back of his ankle with Velcro.

"Beach time!" said Elizabeth after parking her car on the road near the beach. Harry, again, spotted the tanned surfers. He noticed they were both male and female.

"So where do you want to set up? On the sand, or on the grass? I've got this little tent in the boot, that way our stuff won't get sand on it. Either way is fine with me."

Harry thought for a moment. "On the sand."

"Choice."

They got the tent out of the boot. Harry was surprised to see a surfboard in there as well. Elizabeth took it out. "I'll teach you," she said, grinning. Harry nodded his agreement.

As they walked to the sand Elizabeth said, "It's really easy, Harry. You'll be a natural."

Harry lifted a brow at her.

"You rock on a broom don't you? And surfing isn't much different. You'll pick it up easily."

And so that day, a routine was established. They would wake up, go running, lift weights, and spend the rest of the day on the beach, surfing, or attempting to surf, in Harry's case. It was not at all like flying, as Elizabeth said. Flying he could control. He couldn't control waves. They would sneak up on him sometimes, and he wouldn't be able to surface for about a minute as the current whirled him around. He'd frightened Elizabeth so badly the first time this happened that she wouldn't let him back into the water, until he reminded her he was old enough to swim. Elizabeth conceded after that.

At night they would curl up on the couch with a bucket of ice cream or a bowl of home made popcorn and watch movies. Harry discovered Elizabeth had a particular irony in watching movies about magic and the supernatural, and commenting on how wrong the muggles got it. It was fun for a laugh.

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A/N: There you go, a nice, fun chapter. There won't be too many OC's in this story. And if there are, you'll never see them again. Like Jane, they'll just be a passing acquaintance of Elizabeth's. You have to know about her life, after all, and people make up life.

Review Please.