Okay everyone, I just could not resist writing this story. I don't claim that it's any great work of fiction, it's just hellafun (this is my own personal short version of hell of a lot of fun, in case anyone was wondering…) to write! The prologue is not the most interesting of things, I will give you that. Just trying to get the exposition out of the way as much as possible. Hopefully that will open up the first few chapters to more action than without it.

This is post Chosen (BtVS) and post OotP (Harry Potter).

The only set pairing for this story is Ron and Hermione. The only one that will definitely not be happening is Harry and Hermione. (Oh and no Draco/Harry. It's not happening, don't even ask.) That said, pretty much everything else is fair game. Feel free to make requests, I might be feeling generous…

I'm sure that many of you will be able to guess who the Slytherin Spy is. Those who get it right get… a cookie… and I might be convinced to let you make an eensy request about the story. (Yes, this is a 'highly' disguised plea for replies…;)

Harry's going to be (mostly) a lot less pissy in this story. He's also going to be taking control of his own destiny and powers, which are actually considerable when you get right down to it (because this is my story and I said so!)

All right, I think that's everything. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or BtVS. I merely like to borrow the characters and torture them a bit. All rights belong to J.K Rowling, Scholastic, Joss Whedon, etc., etc. Don't sue, I don't have any money…

Anyway, I hope you like it!

Snowie

Harry Potter and the Spy of Slytherin

Prologue, Part One: New Arrivals

'Ah, London!' had quickly become 'oh, London' for the remaining members of the Scooby Gang.

They were there to help Giles start to piece together some semblance of a Watcher's Council. Buffy had fought against this at first, her own experiences with the Council making her somewhat glad that it was rubble. Then the realities of Slayers galore had kicked in.

Since most of the remnants of the council resided in London, it was decided that London was where they needed to go.

Buffy had muttered darkly about tweedland and damned stuffy Brits, but had encouraged Willow to book them all on a flight to London just the same.

They had been in Cleveland at that point, having made their way there by way of LA.

After all, a Hellmouth always needs a guardian…

This one had twenty.

No one knew what else to do with the girls who'd fought beside Buffy and Faith in the battle with The First. Most of them felt that they had seen too much to go home again.

They felt their calling, the need.

They required guidance, to be sent where that need was greatest.

They needed direction, something Buffy felt she was greatly lacking in providing at the moment.

Faith wasn't handling the situation much better, nor was Giles.

There were just so many of them, not just on the Cleveland Hellmouth, but everywhere.

It was daunting just how many girls there were out there, just waiting to be found.

Daunting how many of those girls might die if they weren't found in time.

And so the decision was made. A new Watcher's Council would be started. And until there were enough Watchers to be sent to the girls, the girls would come to the Watchers.

A small contingent of the next-generation Sunnydale Slayers was to stay in Cleveland with Kennedy and Robin Wood. The rest, those that wanted to, would go home to their families, at least until Giles, Buffy and the gang had something up and running in England.

The gang, which included Giles, Buffy, Willow, Xander, Faith and Dawn, went to London to see what they could salvage of the old Council. This meant meetings with the remaining Watchers and finding a proper building, not only to house the Watchers, but where they could also train the slayers.

Buffy and Faith had decided that they should call the place 'B's School for the Maladjusted…'

Willow thought they were kidding…

Hoped they were kidding….

She, Xander, Dawn and Giles would just sit there, shaking their heads as the two slayers shook with laughter at the very thought of the name. What else could they do?

They certainly couldn't say no! That would only guarantee having to explain that name to some very confused parents…

In a way it was nice to see the two of them getting along so well… at least when it wasn't terrifying.

The two slayers had found common ground during the fight against The First and had formed a relationship that was almost sister-like. Of course, they both knew that it was just another facet of the relationship that they'd always had. Even when they'd been on different sides, they'd been connected by something larger than themselves. Something that would always connect them…

The Scoobies had been making good progress in London, working out the major kinks, taking the first steps towards getting the council up and running.

Their luck had apparently changed. They had found a good twenty Watchers since their arrival in London. More continued to trickle in every day, some of them bringing along new slayers.

A building big enough for all of them had been amazingly easy to find. Using the Council's more than adequate funds, they had bought a large country estate not far from London.

It was no surprise to anyone when a week into their visit, claiming boredom, Buffy and Faith had insisted on starting to patrol the streets of London. They were sure that there had to be all natures of oogly-booglies out there somewhere, and London was known to be a hotspot for vampires.

The patrols had gone normally enough for about a week… but then, nothing could ever remain normal when the Scooby gang is involved…

Prologue, Part Two: Determination

Harry Potter had spent the last few weeks of his fifth year at Hogwarts brooding. There was no other word to describe it. Granted, he had reason to brood. Having Sirius die and the weight of the Wizarding World dropped on his shoulders within hours of each other had caused… quite the strain.

And so he brooded.

His conversations consisted mainly of monosyllabic replies as he tried to decide exactly what, if anything, to tell his friends.

It wasn't an easy decision. That bullseye on his back was a hell of a lot bigger than any of them had ever suspected. He didn't want to put them in any more danger by having them find out why that was.

And he was scared. Scared that they'd find out that he was to become either a murderer or the murdered… and that that knowledge would prompt them to turn their backs on him.

Beyond that, he was just scared in general.

He had this huge destiny, this great thing that only he could do.

And he didn't feel even remotely prepared for it.

He knew that Dumbledore and his professors had spent the past five years preparing him for… something. He'd just never known what it was that he was working towards.

Now he did. And none of the things that he'd done in the past made him feel even remotely prepared for what was to come.

For what could he do, really? A few lucky turns against Voldemort didn't mean that he could defeat him in an all out battle. Not when there weren't ghosts, portkeys or Headmasters involved directly in the fight.

He was, to use a muggle phrase, a sitting duck.

That knowledge had only managed to make the brooding worse.

Even cursing Malfoy into a quivering mass of… something on the train home hadn't managed to lessen his funk.

It wasn't until he had arrived at the Dursleys that something happened to change his attitude.

It was a simple event really. Nothing too momentous.

An offhand comment, meant to harass.

"What are you going to do about it?"

The context from which it came had no real bearing on his reaction. It was the words themselves.

Indeed, what was he going to do about it? About anything? About the way that people looked at him, treated him, protected him? About the battle that was without doubt coming?

The answer was as simple as it was complex.

He was going to fight…

And he was going to win.

He just had to figure out how.

In order to fight, in order to win, he had to prepare himself. Take the battle into his own hands, so to speak.

And that was exactly what he decided to do.

Homework was set aside. Quills and parchment were instead used for setting up the first stages of his battle plan… actually, in all honesty, it was more of a preparation plan at the moment… battle plan just sounded more… impressive.

Small steps, but sometimes the smallest of steps can be the most important.

Harry took to visiting Arabella Figg almost daily, questioning her 'innocently', yet relentlessly. Through her, he found out many important details about members of The Order, about the people who watched him and the house.

He'd only been home a week the first time that he snuck out of the house in order to make a trip to London. The invisibility cloak was invaluable in this. So was knowing that Moody was nowhere in the vicinity (see above, conversations with Arabella…). He was out and back with no one, not the Dursleys, not The Order, being aware that he had gone.

It was a somewhat heady feeling. One that calmed a bit after the third and fourth trip.

He managed to glamour his way into renting a flat in London during that first trip. The lease listed his name as Samuel Blackstone, his occupation as accountant. The subsequent trips were used for stocking the flat with things that he might need in the future.

It was a place all his own. A hideaway of sorts. A safehaven.

Separate from The Order, from the Dursleys, from his friends.

He didn't know if he would ever need it.

He just felt that it was best to have such a place, just in case.

It turned out that he was right, only he ended up needing it far earlier than he ever could have imagined.

That time came on his fifth trip to London, three weeks into the summer holidays. It's strange really, how things work out…