Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or The Lost Boys, Or any money, or diamonds- well, you get the picture.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. My computer caught a virus, then I got sick with the flu. Hopefully, updates will be a bit more often now. Thanks to my readers and those that added me to their c2's. Review me and let me know what you think!

Harry watched as they passed the loads of Americans crowding the boardwalk. Some of them looked like they could pass for wizards with their long robes, while others displayed haircuts that Harry could never remembered seeing before. Furthermore, some even featured colorful hair like Nymphadora Tonks, and Harry wondered if these were more wizards, but after a moment, he realized that somehow the muggles had managed to dye their hair in strange colors. It was going to take some time to get used to this place.

Harry wandered around the boardwalk while Mrs. Weasley pumped gas in the car. He had no idea where Ron ran off to. Ron seemed a bit childlike as of late, and Harry really had no idea what to make of it. The only thing that Harry did know was that it couldn't hurt to try to help out Mrs. Weasley in any way possible. Maybe he could find someone looking for part-time help.

Harry finally saw Ron run up to his mother and shook his head. Who knows where he had wandered off to.

Molly watched as he too boys explored a bit of the boardwalk while she pumped petrol in the muggle vehicle. Harry seemed to be adapting well, but Ron, her sweet Ron, still seemed to be in a bit of a fright. Perhaps things would be better here. Molly looked up to see Ron running towards her.

"Mum! There is a muggle festival right on the beach!" Ron gasped excitedly.

Molly smiled at her son. "Yes, dear. In America, they call them amusement parks. Perhaps if we hurry and get settled, we can come back this evening and you can ride some of the rides."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. Suddenly, Molly turned her head and saw two runaway teenagers searching through the garbage. She walked up to the petrol attendant, and once handed the change, she turned to Ron.

"Ron, tell those kids to get something to eat." She placed the change in his hand.

"I thought we were poor, Mum."

"Not that bad yet, Ron." Ron quickly ran over to the kids.

Harry wandered around, glancing at the sights. His eye fell on Sirius' motorbike. He was glad that Mrs. Weasley had let him bring it. She had simply told him that it would come in handy. Though he had had to promise not to let it fly, but to ride it the muggle way. Harry didn't care, it was his. And having something along that really belonged to him meant more to him than Mrs. Weasley could ever imagine.

Harry stopped at a surf shop and watched a worker polish a surf board for a moment. He seemed to be engrossed in his work but not unfriendly.

"Hello, do you know if there are any jobs around here?" Harry asked politely.

The man scratched his head for a moment. "Nothin' legal."

Harry nodded thanks and made his way back to the car. He removed his bike from the trailer attached to the back of the station wagon and smiled as he started the machine.

Ron quickly jumped into the car once he heard Harry start his bike.

After a few moments over the California highway, the twisting winding road brought them to an old lodge style home. If it weren't for the calm and happy feeling that you got when you looked at the house, you would think that it belonged in a fairy tale as the home for the evil witch in the forest. It was even complete with tree carvings and a large front porch.

Harry thought to himself. "And I thought the Weasley's home had been odd?"

The station wagon pulled up beside Harry. Mrs. Weasley motioned for Harry to turn off his bike. He did so. Mrs. Weasley and Ron got out of the car and Ron held the door open long enough for Nanook to get out of the car, panting in the heat.

Harry stepped off his bike and stepped in behind Ron. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the place they now would be living in, but it was definitely going to be quite an adventure.

Once they all got a bit closer to the house, they saw Grandpa sprawled out on the porch; looking like he had just died. The old man was dressed very American, but still a bit odd with denims, Native American moccasins, and a long grey braid of hair that wound itself around his back.

Ron watched Nanook start to sniff around. Worrying that the dog would get lost, Ron called for it. "Get over here, Nanook!"

Molly walked closer to her father. He was lying motionless. "Dad?" She waited for a moment. "Dad?" She said a bit louder.

Harry's eyes widened. "It looks like he's dead."

Mrs. Weasley blew him off with a wave of her hand, and crouched down next to her father. "No, he's just a deep sleeper."

Ron cocked his head to the side. "If he's dead, can we go back to England?"

Before Harry and Mrs. Weasley could punch Ron right in the mouth, Grandpa suddenly sat up, laughing.

"I was playin' dead. And from what I heard, I was doin' a damn good job of it too!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other strangely as Mrs. Weasley hugged her father. There was only one thought that they managed to pass between them. This was going to be stranger than Hogwarts.

Once they reached the inside of the house, they were surrounded the expanse of the house. From the outside, it really hadn't looked this large. But Harry could tell that it wasn't charmed to be larger, it simply was an illusion. Perhaps the carvings and other pieces of art distracted from the size of the house.

The interior was set with a southwestern flair. Large pieces of leather furniture covered by many Native American blankets were scattered around the room. Harry had never seen a house like this. Carefully, he carried a set of barbells in his arms around the furniture so as to not harm anything while Ron dragged a large stack of muggle comic books under his arm, seemingly without a care in the world.

Harry looked at Ron. "This is a pretty neat place."

Ron scratches his head doubtfully. It was too different. Too American. "Yeah, for a muggle horror film. It's right from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

Harry looked at Ron strangely. "Since when do you know about muggle cinema?"

Ron looked back at Harry exasperatedly. "A boy can read can't he? I'm not stupid you know. I took muggle studies."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Prince Weasley. I wasn't aware that Muggle Cinema was a large part of muggle studies."

Ron dropped his books on a table with a thud. "It isn't."

"Come on, Ron. Give it a break."

Ron tagged behind as Harry wandered into the kitchen. The kitchen was light and airy. The whole house seemed lived in, yet not as welcoming as the Weasley abode in England. Harry walked through the kitchen and opened the screen door the back porch. This would be much better, he thought. He placed his barbells on the back porch and walked back into the kitchen glaring at Ron. He could easily tell that Ron was not finished.

"What's wrong with this picture, Harry. There's no telly! Have you seen a telly? I haven't seen a telly, Harry. Do you know what it means when there's no telly? No MTV."

Harry rolled his eyes once again. Ron's childlike problem was really getting to be difficult to deal with. "Ron, I don't think I even want to know where you learned about MTV. What do we need a telly for? Huh?"

"Harry, how else will we know how to fit in? All Americans watch MTV. Remember what Mum said. WE do have to go to school here."

Harry laughed for a moment. His anger gone. "Ron, sometimes you simply amaze me."

Molly watched her father working on unloading the trailer. It was good to be back with her father again. She had missed him. She had missed this place. Hopefully, the boys would come to view it as home. She knew her father would love them.

"Dad, you know that I've adopted Harry, right?"

Her father rolled his eyes. "Molly, you've told me at least twenty times by now. By owl, by muggle post, by telephone call, I'm starting to loose count."

Molly playfully slapped her father on the shoulder. "Oh, Dad."

"Besides Molly, you can use the extra company. And after everything you've told me about the Potter boy. He needs family." Sometimes, he simply didn't know what to do with his daughter. He scratched his head for a moment and smiled at her. "You know, Molly. More than anything. I wish that the war hadn't happened. But you'll be alright. I just hope that coming here was the right move."

Molly smiled. "I know, Dad. But staying there wasn't going to help Ron. Besides, maybe his grandfather can fix him!" She playfully tugs on his braid.

"Ouch!" He yelps and grabs hold of his hair. "My hair…"

Ron ran down the stairs trying to escape Harry. This place reminded him of Hogwarts without the moving staircases.

"Mom! You gotta save me!"

Molly and Grandpa ran back into the house when they heard Ron scream. Hopefully, the boys hadn't found a poisonous snake!

Once Molly saw that the boys were simply playing and had scared them for nothing, she began to yell. She was right in time to see them narrowly avoid crashing into a piece of furniture. "Boys! No running in the house!"

Ron ran to the other side of the room and pulled open a set of sliding doors. Inside those doors was a room like nothing he had ever seen. Animals stared down at him with lifeless eyes while a variety of bones and antlers littered a large table. Harry stopped at Ron's heels, just as mystified.

Harry placed his hand on Ron's shoulder and patted it. "And you were talking about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"

Before they both could utter another word, Harry felt a hand grasp him tightly on the shoulder and warm breath on his ear.

"Rules!" Grandpa barked at them. "WE got some rules around here."

Grandpa pulled them back from his taxidermy and dragged them both into the kitchen by their ears.

Once inside the kitchen, he released them and walked to the refrigerator. Ron poked Harry in the ribs.

"What's that?" He whispered.

"An ice box." Harry answered, trying not to perturb the old man any further.

Grandpa opened the door to the refrigerator and pointed at a cardboard sign taped to the second shelf. The second shelf sign read: "Old Fart".

Grandpa turned to the boys, and continued in the same barking tone. "The Second shelf is mine. It's where I keep my root beers and my double-stuffed Oreo cookies. Nobody touches the second shelf but me." He glared at them. "Believe me, I will know."

Grandpa walked past them and motioned for them to follow once more.

Ron whispered to Harry again as they followed Grandpa back into the living room. "DO you think he has it charmed?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, right now he's reminding me of Severus Snape. I wouldn't try it."

Grandpa stopped as stared at them. With the glare that danced around his eyes, Harry knew that he had heard. "Boys, I might be old, But my hearing is still pretty good. You might want to whisper a bit softer next time."

Harry couldn't help it. The nervousness of the situation was causing him to find everything a bit odd. A bit funny. He felt the giggles crawling up his throat. He knew that had to say something before he got himself in more trouble.

"Sir, is it true that Santa Carla's the murder capital of the world?"

Grandpa scratched his chin for a moment. And looked at Harry with a renewed interest. "There are some bad elements around here."

Ron looked at Grandpa and Harry, wide-eyed and a bit dazed. "Wait a minute, let me get this straight. Are you telling me that we've moved to the murder capital of the world? Are you serious, Grandpa?"

Grandpa looked pointedly at Ron. "Well, let me put it this way, boy. If all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once, we'd have once hell of a population problem."

Molly glared at her father from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Great, Dad."