I feel so proud to be publishing the very first Harry Potter/Graveyard Book crossover. Ladies and gentlemen, I humbly present to you 'Juxtapostioned'. ;)

This, in itself, is complete. If I receive positive/constructive feedback, and feel that enough people are reading, I think I'll continue, but for now, this can stand fairly steadily on its own. Please don't hesitate to share what you think, even if it isn't exactly pleasant.

In a school in an undisclosed, Unplottable location in Scotland, a gaggle of eleven-year-olds stood waiting to be Sorted.

Muggleborn, I see, whispers the Hat.

But what's this? Young man, I don't believe you're the typical student, are you? It muses for a moment. But no matter. You show potential, and a great amount of power at your disposal that could be of use to you here. I can see you doing well in Slytherin.

But you have no ambition, and none are Sorted into Salazar's house without that. Hufflepuff? You seem too grown. Loyatly, yes, and determination... but moreso, a thirst for knowledge, one that would be stifled by Gryffindor. I know exactly where to put you.

Harry Potter comes late to the feast in his sixth year.

He doesn't see the Sorting. He doesn't see the transfer student, barely sixteen years old, that slips quietly into Ravenclaw.

Bod likes Hogwarts. It's easier to Fade surrounded by the magical walls, floors, and ceilings. Ravenclaws keep mostly to themselves, and even though he's especially aware of the eyes following him - "Transfer student!" they whisper, like he's a toy. But the stares soon fade way to Harry Potter, whispers of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

And there are so many things to learn, here. So many stories, and the ghosts...

Yes, the ghosts take a particular liking to Bod. He is never alone in the corridors, not when bullies pose a danger, anyway. (Though his Fade seems to take care of them nicely, or otherwise Fear. He hopes that he will never have to use Terror.)

Bod Fades into the back of people's minds, content with the life he has made for himself out of the graveyard.

Slughorn doesn't just like the useful or the bright or the powerful.

He like oddities, too. And Hogwarts is a magical school, so even though Bod can Fade very well, and even though no one pays him any mind, his name still shows up on roll.

Slughorn notices, and it isn't long before the Slug Club is plus one Nobody.

Luna can't get enough of the party.

Most of the joyous feeling in her chest is the fact that Harry invited her; that he cares enough for her to do something with her and her alone. She isn't a cast-aside.

Part of it is the sincerity in his eyes when he asked her, the slight awkwardness, and how... sweet it was.

And part of it is the vampire standing sullenly in the corner of the room.

She knows he's a vampire, and not someone suffering an extremely severe nargle infestation, by the colour of his skin. Nargle infestations just don't result in that waxy colour.

Luna has never spoken to a vampire before, and she has many questions. Vampires aren't headline news, not like the Whingheel conspiracies, but they are good filler for Daddy's magazine when the Editor's section is skimpy. Besides, readers like a good one-on-one.

More interesting, however, is when she notices Nobody Owens, fellow sixth-year Ravenclaw, fellow outcast of sorts, looking at the vampire.

Not staring, like she is.

Looking.

As in, recognizing.

Luna averts her eyes from them both as Harry approaches. A family reunion is none of her business, for now.

Bod doesn't want to say goodbye a second time.

But suddenly so much of what Silas has said to him in passing makes sense. Suddenly, it is so much easier to accept the world of magic when Silas is also a part of it. So he does, and feels something settle inside of him, like he's suddenly complete.

The next morning, his wand lets out gray sparks.

Christmas break is miserable.

He amuses himself by reading in the library, talking with the ghosts, and practicing Visitations. Silas sends him no letter, no gift. Bod thinks, as Christmas day draws to an end, that perhaps it was for the best.

Harry sits in his seat, fighting back tears, the lump in his throat, the panic that threatens to overwhelm him, and the longing to run and hide as Dumbledore's funeral proceeds.

The same day, Bod leaves, slipping out of people's minds even more easily than he came in.