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Their Stars Are Going Out

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Summary: ALTERNATE REALITY!!!! Buffy is Draco Malfoy's twin, Dawn is their little sister, and Willow is a Weasley. All of a sudden, their Stars start going out... Buffy/Harry, Willow/Draco, Dawn/OC

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: Harry PotterthemadhatterFR1532,766092,32220 Dec 1027 Mar 11No

Chapter One

I own nothing. Joss Whedon and JK Rowling are the lucky folks that do. I own the idea, and Jace Black. Yay Jace!



So, you think you know Harry Potter? You’re wrong. Reread the books, and I’m sure you’ll find loads of different details. The most important rule when reading this, is remembering: I am never wrong. I may be deranged, mad, or, lying, but never wrong. This is the more accurate retelling of the fifth book in the series, after all, who cares about all that, ‘Start at the very beginning’ nonsense? Star Wars didn’t. X-Men didn’t. Why should I?

First: some mistakes you may have made while reading the books. It’s very easy to make these errors, I have not met a single person who got it right first time.

Draco Malfoy is not an only child. He has a twin sister, Buffy Malfoy, and a little sister, Dawn Malfoy, both in Slytherin.
Bellatrix Black had a son by an unknown father, called Jason ‘Jace’ Black. To save Jace from a life in Azkaban, Dumbledore adopted him, and he was sorted into Slytherin.
Albus Dumbledore’s name was not Albus Dumbledore. It was Rupert ‘Ripper’ Giles Dumbledore.
The seventh Weasley child was Willow, who is in the same year as Ron, but born ten months apart. They are Catholic twins. Ginny was, in fact, the eighth.
Hermione never existed. You were thinking of Willow.
Draco, Harry, Ron, Willow, and Buffy are in fifth year. Ginny, Dawn, and Jace are in fourth year.
There was no Triwizard Tournament: that was a figment of your imagination. Moody came and retired like he was meant to. Unfortunately, you read about Umbridge correctly.
Voldemort did not come back in the fourth book, however he did make appearances in the first and second. He is out there now, biding his time.
Yeah, that’s... That’s pretty much it.



School was starting again. Hogwarts was becoming flooded with people, all jostling for a good seat in the Great Hall. Well, I say all...

Draco, Buffy, and Dawn Malfoy simply strode through the onslaught of teenagers, and, as expected, space magically opened up for them. Jason Black, Dawn’s best friend, hurried along behind them, trying to keep inside their bubble of calm.

They reached the Slytherin table, and immediately sat at the five free spacious seats at the back. There was a reason no-one else sat in those seats: that was where important Slyths sat. They included: Draco and Buffy, twin terrors; Dawn, top fourth year; Jason, Headmaster’s adopted son; and Theodore Nott. No-one really knew why Nott sat there, that was just the way it was. Anybody who sat in those seats would be repeatedly cursed in the Common Room.

Across the hall at the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and Willow were sitting comfortably. That is, they were before Ginny, Fred, and George piled in, making the four seats groan with weight of six people.

People were packed along the table higgledy-piggledy, stuffing their faces with greasy food almost before Dumbledore had stopped talking. Golden plates were piled high with steaks and burgers, with not a knife or fork in sight. Red and gold napkins were being chucked around like Quaffles, and hands were soon spattered with chip fat. Gryffs were yelling for others to pass the barbecue sauce, and to get their manky fingers out of other people’s pizzas.

Back at the Slytherin table, everybody was talking quietly, and waiting their turn to take what they needed off the serving plates. Sure, there was some glaring to let the firsties know that their turns would be last, but there was no contact made. Looking at the silver plates, the general rule seemed to be: if it covers the base, then you’ve got too much. That wasn’t to say that they couldn’t go back for seconds, though!

Green and silver napkins were neatly placed on laps, as the Slyths ate seared tuna, grilled lamb shank, dauphinoise potatoes, and fried turnips with silver cutlery. Baby carrots and sweetcorn, and spicy chicken wings with a cool cucumber dip were passed around without a fuss.

For pudding at the Gryffindor table, there were jellies, blancmanges, trifles, ice cream sandwiches, and huge chocolate fudge cakes oozing fudge sauce and calories, while the Slytherins had chocolate bombes, citrus tart, tiramisu, and fruit parfait.

All in all, the Slytherins were acting a hell of a lot more civilised.

As everyone began to leave, Willow accidentally bumped in to Dawn. “Oh, sor-” she began, then stopped. “Malfoy. Never mind then.”

“Watch it, Weasel,” Dawn threatened.

“Or what?” Willow said menacingly: a fifth year against a fourth would be pipsqueak.

“Careful, Weasel,” Draco drawled, suddenly appearing at his little sister’s left side. Buffy followed instantly, standing to the right of her younger siblings.

“You might just start showing some of that Gryffindor courage,” Buffy continued.

“In public-”

“With people watching-”

“Your every move-”

“And it might be-”

“A tad embarrassing-”

“For a Gryffindor fifth year-”

“To get creamed-”

“By a Slytherin fourth year-”

“In front of your family-”

“And it’s not like-”

“We’d help-”

“Because Dawn-”

“Would get annoyed-”

“And anyway-”

Draco leaned in intimidatingly, “She doesn’t need our help.”

They disappeared as quickly as they came, leaving Dawn looking smug and Willow slightly bewildered at what had happened. Dawn’s smugness didn’t last long, though, and she began to get peed that she couldn’t move. “Weasel?” she said. Willow shook herself, and looked down at her. “Walk on.”

Willow scuttled off, still not quite sure what had just occurred. Dawn smirked. For a smart girl, Weasel 7 was thick.

Buffy and Draco looked up from their finished chess game and Dawn and Jason entered the common room. As usual, it had finished a stalemate. “So, you made it back alive,” commented Buffy, making herself more comfortable on her high backed leather armchair.

“Weasel run off back to the nest?” Draco inquired.

“Straight away. I didn’t even get to threaten her,” Dawn moaned.

Meanwhile, back in the Gryffindor common room...

“Oh my God, I think the Malfoys get worse every single year,” Willow complained, collapsing onto an overstuffed sofa. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George made agree-y noises and flung themselves at the bean bags.

“Forget Tweedle Lethal and Tweedle Evil for a sec,” Fred said.

“And mini psychopath,” interrupted George.

“Focus on Umbridge,” Fred said.

“The pink toad,” George clarified.

“She’s from the Ministry,” Harry told them. “She was at my hearing.”

The twins shuddered. “Ministry pink toad,” they said simultaneously, disgusted looks on their faces.

“I have frog fear,” volunteered Willow.

“I don’t think you’ll make it through the year,” Ginny said seriously.

The clock chimed eleven. “And there,” Ron yawned, stretching, “is our cue to go to bed. Coming, Harry?”

The group said their goodnights and went up to the dormitories, where they settled down under thick red sheets, fireplaces holding only glowing embers, and tried to ignore their roommates snoring.

The clock chimed eleven. “Dawnie, Jace, bed,” Buffy ordered. They groaned, but begrudgingly made their way up to their private rooms. “Us too,” she said to Draco, who nodded his agreement.

They descended the mahogany spiral staircase to the fifth underground level. A long, dark corridor stretched into the distance. Luckily, their rooms were 5-1 and 5-3, next door to each other, and most importantly, right next to the stairs, so they didn’t have to go far.

They collapsed onto ebony fourposter beds, drew the green silk sheets over them, and stared into the vast black lake, viewed courtesy of a glass wall.

The next day, fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins started off with Potions. Sharing. With each other. Damn.

When Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House, swooped into his dungeon, he almost smirked at the obvious Gryffindor/Slytherin division. Almost, because his two favourite students, Buffy and Draco Malfoy, were fighting over the one remaining seat that wasn’t next to Potter.

Snape watched with interest for a few seconds, but soon grew annoyed. “Malfoy! Malfoy!” he snapped. “For goodness sake just sit in a damn chair!” They both immediately sat on the seat they were vying for, but Draco was a nanosecond quicker than his twin, and got there first, leaving Buffy sitting on him.

“There,” said Snape. “Draco, you take that seat, Buffy, you go next to Potter.”

With an unbelievable amount of grumbling, Buffy did as asked. “Malfoy,” Harry greeted, just a tad too cold to be pleasant.

“Potty,” Buffy spat, already going to collect the ingredients for her Strengthening Solution. Harry ground his teeth, and from then on, nothing was said until the end of the lesson.

“Put a sample of your finished potions into a vial and leave it on my desk, and pack away,” Snape ordered. “And for your sakes they’d better be better than the last dismal lot I had to grade.”

Buffy put her perfect potion on Snape’s desk and went back to her table, where Potty had finally managed to put a sample in his vial and Vanished the remaining solution. Unsteadily, he took a step towards Snape’s desk. It was just too good an opportunity to miss.

She stuck her leg out and Harry tripped, dropping his vial and grabbing her arm, just as Professor McGonagall walked in. “Detention, Potter,” Snape smirked. “And let go of Miss Malfoy, I’m sure she wishes to have use of that arm in the future.”

Blushing furiously, Harry bent down to clean up the mess on the floor. “And detention with Professor Snape for you, too, Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall said sharply. “I have never seen such disgraceful pettiness.” Snape looked annoyed. “Now, Severus...”

Buffy and Harry never heard how that sentence ended. They were too busy thinking about that brief moment of contact, when their skin tingled. It was a good feeling, one that Harry couldn’t identify, but Buffy certainly could.

She couldn’t, *couldn’t*, be attracted to Harry bloody Potter, could she?



Please read, *please* review! Compliments are loved, constructive criticism is appreciated, flames will be used to make s’mores.
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