AN: This is going to be a Harry Potter/Sailor Moon crossover. I came across quite a few, but not many satisfied me… so, I thought I would try my hand at one just for the fun of it. This will take place in the fifth Harry Potter book--I suggest you having read it, even if it's just to give you a clearer picture for what's going on. You should be able to follow if you haven't; though, I'm sure this will have its spoilers. Basic info is that Darien won't exist, the sailor moon part of this will be purely alternate reality, and I doubt (unless you really want me to) that the other scouts will be in this. Though, as always, I'll do my best to give a quality story, this is going to be more of a relief story for me in my time of writer's depression. To the point, I hope you enjoy reading! I tried to be as true as I could to details and to the voice of JK Rowling. =) Further author notes are at the end of this chapter. (Note: Birty, Matty, and the Wingtail Inn are purely out of my own head and I didn't have anyone edit or beta this, so bare with me please ^_^;;) - STAR

Lunar Magic

B y S t a r g i r l

I. Serenity Moonsquire

~ * ~

The small, three-story Inn sat cramped in the center of London, a ratty sight for any to see. There appeared nothing out of the ordinary about it--if you didn't count it being shabbier than most (not to mention boasting a more chimneys on its roof than believable). The people swarming on the street passed blindly. The few who gazed in interest at the quaint wooden sign with curly letter's reading Wingtail's Inn, would suddenly blink, look around the street as if they were lost, and then wander off, all thought of the Inn forgotten.

Within the Inn was a strange place indeed for it happened to be run by, and for, witches and wizards. A plump little woman with laughing gray eyes and a head of strawberry-silver hair bustled around the ground floor, guarding the front desk while fussing over her customers like a mother hen. The widowed Mrs. Birty Weasley prided her guests as if part of her own family. Whether they liked it or not, if they found themselves in the ground floor lobby and dining area they would get an earful of witches gossip, news from the Daily Prophet, and of--her favored subject--her daughter, son-in-law, and seven strawberry-haired grandchildren.

Now in autumn, she boasted a near full house with a goblin (a darling thing according to Birty), a boney eccentric old wizard with an inkling to smoke musty dragon cigars (Birty fancied that the cigars and his wild stories of days as an auror were both to impress her--not that she minded a bit), and a ragged looking wizarding couple with two children on the first floor. The occupants on the second floor--a three-some family and a secretive wizard, much to Birty's disappointment, rarely came down. Pity too, in Birty's opinion, for the pretty young girl had seemed quite up to chit-chat the few times she had been allowed downstairs at the diner by her aunt and uncle.

At this time, as the grayish London light outside began dimming with evening approached, it was this fifteen-year-old witch who moaned in frustration, throwing herself onto the small, quilt-covered bed and scowling directed at the ceiling. Bright stormy-blue eyes narrowed with her turmoil, her fingers digging painfully into her palms.

Her guardians, Luna Meltrivon and Artemis Filch, had always been strict with her, but they finally crossed the line. The pure nerve of them! How could they take away her wand? So she had been upset with them and nearly ran away for the umpteenth time, but was it any wonder with them treating her like a prisoner or a child?

Artemis left shortly after the ordeal when receiving an emergency owl post.

That rekindled her fury all over again. If they were in hiding, then where was it that he went all the time? What was he doing on those frequent trips? Artemis' refusal to tell her what business he was on sent her into another fit at Luna who, apparently growing numb to their arguments, had ordered Serenity into her room to attend to her studies. Needless to say, she hadn't so much at glanced at her books (Practical Defenses Against the Dark Arts, Charms for the Advanced Witch or Wizard, and Occlumency Studies among them) as she had stormed into her room.

Almost unnoticeably, the center of her forehead burned, a faint golden glow that wasn't there before touching the cluttered trinkets in the room. When her unfocused vision finally regarded the orange haze and her brittling mind of the sensation on her forehead, she sighed, the release of breath draining her fury and her stiffened body sinking into the thick quilts as if into depression.

She waited for her forehead to cool, and knowing that her crescent moon symbol had died away, she sat up in a doggedly fashion, dull eyes cast out the window at the darkening sky. When she heaved another mournful sigh, a kindly voice piped up. "Oh, don't look so down, Deary. Things can't be all that bad."

Serenity frowned and turned, squinting her eyes in the darkening blue haze that engulfed the room at a shadowed painting on the far wall surrounded by cuckoo clocks and shelves. The painting was small, antique, and oval--a dark figure fidgeting around inside it. Serenity quickly lit the lamp by her bedside and faced the painting with a pointedly indignant look. "I told you what they did, Matty." The old witch, Matilda Hobblewarts, in the picture had a crooked nose, ragged hat sprung with poppies and snapdragons propped over her white hair, and wore an array of moss and mulberry colored robes. The witch's bony shoulders slumped and her hazel eyes softened in sympathy.

"Luna and Artemis prefer me moping," Serenity added out of bitterness. "It means I'm not causing more trouble or doing anything foolish."

"Oh, hobblesticks!" Matty huffed. "That pair should loosen up, no doubt about it. A bit o' spirit never hurt any young girl."

A smile tugged at Serenity's lips. On their arrival, her guardians had searched the place, taking down paintings and anything else with spying ears. Serenity, however, had been quick enough to hide the small painting she found in her room under her pillow--quickly pleading with the ancient witch in it to be quiet and promising to replace her. Serenity was glad she had managed to keep the painting. That was how desperate she was--relying on a painting for company and comfort. Matty was a bit flighty in her mind, so Serenity felt quite certain that her secrets were safe. She probably would have tried explaining her situation more to the painting if she hadn't had the feeling that the woman would just smile and nod and say "That's nice, dear."

Much to her guardians' distress, Serenity trusted people (and things) easier than they did. It was not that she was stupid or naïve. After all, she could keep her mouth shut and secrets hidden when she had half a mind to do so. She simply refused to live an alienated life, always wary, never letting anyone close, seeing threats behind every person's mask whether they be witch, wizard, or creature. It sounded like a lonely, miserable existence.

Her life seemed to be turning into that anyway, though, wasn't it? She had always been forced into a quiet life, being what she was. Though at the time it had seemed annoyingly sheltered, that period in her life was now cast in her memories as peaceful with an honored glow.

Everything had simply changed one day, months ago in July. Her guardians, ashen-faced with their lips tightly pressed, had broken into her room at night, ordering her to pack her things. Forever-composed Luna had looked like she would faint, her voice strained and trembling. Artemis was pale, sweaty, and would not look Serenity in the eye. Thus, from fear and surprise of her guardians' uncharacteristicness, she had quickly done as she was told without a word.

She had kept quiet that night, even days later swallowing her questions, but they still told her nothing. Her frustration and anger with them heightened when even after frightening incidents and countless location changes they gave her no more information. She became increasingly rebellious and more determined to solve the mystery of her pursuer, of what had frightened Luna and Artemis so much they felt the need to drag her all across Europe.

Life had become nearly unbearable on the run, forced into the cramped compartments made her antsy. Too many times she found herself pacing the small space of her room. Since coming to the Wingtail Inn, she had attempted to sneak out her window to escape to the streets of London but was caught and the window was condemned by a locking charm. Ruddy hell, she was a prisoner.

Serenity sighed and looked down, her smile long distinguished. "A bit of spirit," she whispered to herself, echoing Matty's words. Her lips tightened together into a familiar determined line. She glanced up at the Matty in the painting, her voice strangely breathless as she said, "Wish me luck."

Matty, who had been nodding off, swiveled her head around before focusing her misty eyes on Serenity. "What was that, Deary? Ah yes… Good luck!" A puzzled frown crinkled the woman's face as she peered down into the room. "Oh my, good luck with what was it?" The woman squinted into the suddenly dark--and empty--room. Sporting a shrug, she eased back into a doze.

Just outside, Serenity poked her golden head cautiously around the corner, one bright pale blue eye surveying the main room. The silence reigned in her finely-tuned ears, strengthening the swell of feeling that accompanied sneaking around. Her vision flickered to where a floating candle shed a dusty-gold in the corner of the room.

A smile sprung to her lips as fast as if she had used a cheering charm. She stepped out from her hiding spot, gleeful eyes set on the form of her sleeping guardian. Luna Meltrivon was seated in the corner armchair, her slender body encased by thick, velveteen robes. Normally rigid, she was slumped, limp head angled to the side and frazzled salt-and-pepper hair draping around her. Luna's milky fingers dangled over the armrest, an emerald ring catching gold from the light as if winking at Serenity.

These opportunities were like gold. Luna asleep and Artemis gone for an indefinite period. Suppressing her joy, she scrambled quietly across the room, out the door, and down the floor's main hallway.

Flying down the zigzags of halls and flights of stairs that defied all muggle logic considering the small building, Serenity collided with a dark-hooded wizard on the head of the last stair. Startled, she jumped back up a step and apologized. She stood there for a moment, waiting for the wizard to stand aside. After a minute of still waiting, her spirits strangely sunk into an odd pit in her stomach. The wizard's green eyes were so light and intense, they seemed to glow under the shadow of his hood. The ugly scar running down from beneath his right eye didn't exactly give him a welcoming look either.

She angrily brushed away her wary thoughts. She would not be as paranoid as Luna! It was more likely that he was just waiting for her to step aside. Suddenly feeling stupid, Serenity was about to move for the wizard when in a sudden flourish he stepped aside with a courteous bow.

Serenity brushed by him, but twisted her head around for one last look when she reached the floor. She had barely registered a shout of, "Oh, careful there!" when her legs tripped painfully over something. She fell in a tangle of her robes onto the oak floor. The inkeeper pulled her up and bustled worriedly around her.

Much to her chagrin, Serenity looked down to see a battered old broom rolling around on the floor on its own. With a flush, she said, "Sorry 'bout that. I-I wasn't looking…"

"Oh, could 'appen to anyone, Dear. No worries!" Birty said brightly before shooting a stern look at the broom. "Up you get! Back ter work." The broom righted itself and scurried away to continue sweeping. With a glow on her round face, Birty hooked her arm around Serenity's and ushered her around overly pillowed chairs and couches to a table. "Come, come. You must have some warmed Butterbeer!"

For once, Serenity didn't mind being bossed around as the woman sat her down near the massive fireplace and flittered off to get the drink. The cheerful manner was much preferred to the stress and lecturing that seeped into her skin from simply being in the presence of Luna or Artemis. Serenity felt a peaceful warmth inside as stared around the other tables. Due to the late hour, not many were there, but a cooky-looking old wizard with grizzly silver hair poking out from a ratty cap was bent over a board of chess. When his invisible player (most likely the enchanted board) had the white make a move, the old man scratched his bristly chin and began to mutter quite foully. He paused to take a gulp from a hip flask, fiddling with his gap to droop over one side of his face.

"There we go," cooed old Birty as she sat a mug of hot Butterbear in front of Serenity and plopped down in the other chair. "Now tell me, your aunt and uncle doin' all right, are they?"

Barely flinching at "Aunt and Uncle," Serenity nodded her head and took a large sip. "Yes… eh, they're fine. How about your family?" Serenity added the last quickly, and Birty dove for the bait.

"Oh, quite wonderful, dear, quite wonderful! My grandchildren are growing up as if they're using an aging spell, I swear they are. Charlie and Bill have been out on their own for awhile now--bless the both of them. Per--well, Ron, and Ginny are all attending Hogwarts, haven't I told you? Proud to tears, I am!"

Serenity nodded as if she knew the people to who the name's belonged to, though became interested when Birty started rattling off about the famous school of witchcraft and wizardry--something about a Triwizard tournament the previous year. Birty seemed shocked that Serenity hadn't known anything about it, exclaiming that it had been all over the Daily Prophet and had gone off to fetch some clippings she said she had kept of it.

Serenity was feeling quite content as she waited for the woman to return, eager for the sight of any newspapers. She nursed her drink, staring at some of the framed photos on the mantle--some of the people in them smiling and waving at her. A particular gangly, freckle-faced boy whispered to her, "That old blokes a rotten chess-player. He's going to loose his queen and its only the seventh move!" The boy seemed quite indignant about it.

When Birty barreled back into the room, her cheeks were flushed red as radishes, her eyes fiery, and red hair more frazzled than usual. Old newspaper scraps were trapped, seemingly forgotten, by a plump arm, as she had her face buried in the latest edition of the evening prophet. "Old scallywag!" Birty was spluttering under her breath, muttering about nasty potions she'd brew if she had half the mind to.

All in all, she was quite out of character and Serenity stared at her in interest. "What is it?"

Birty dropped the newspaper clippings on the table, quite a few fluttering off course to the floor. Serenity glanced down at a black-and-white moving picture of a handsome young boy with round glasses and wild dark hair (the title blared, 'TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT ENDS WITH A BANG,' though oddly had few words to say to back up the headline). Despite wanting to sift through the many clippings, Serenity looked back at Birty.

Birty let out a mighty hurrmph and waved the newspaper at Serenity. "Oh, just read this!"

Serenity took it, amused by Birty, and started to read.


Rumors of You-Know-Who's return have been firmly denied by Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge announced to the press, "There is absolutely no truth to this rumor. It is ridiculous--no evidence at all." He continues to advise all witches and wizards to remain calm and not to make a fuss out of nothing. A number of students from the prestigous Hogwarts school have claimed that their headmaster, Albus Dumbledoor, declared to the school at the end of the last year that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to power. In response to upset parents, the Ministry has refused to comment to the validity of headmaster making such a claim, or of the reliability of the headmaster's source. Quoting Delores Umbridge, undersecretary to the minster of magic and newly enstated Hogwarts High Inquisitor, "We are all very distressed by the lies. Residing at Hogwarts myself, my information is quite reliable. Dumbledore is clearly loosing touch, highering half-giants to teach a class(the poor dears are petrified of him), just recently employing a werewolf, and endorsing the children to study unnapproved curriculums. The Potter boy, who I remind you is the only one who claims to have seen you-know-who, is quite rebellious and arrogant--no respect for authority at all. Basing on this knowledge, I find it in my right to inform the public of this nonsensical rumor."

Brow furrowing, Serenity slowly looked up.

"It was better when they were ignoring the matter all together," Birty huffed. "The rascals! That poor boy's been through enough and now with all of this--"

Serenity's mind was working furiously. One thing occurred to her over and over, grinding inside the thicket of her thoughts. There were rumors of Voldemort's return? And Birty was calling an article denying the rumor rubbish? Serenity shot to her feet, leaning over the table. "So it's true that--"

"Serenity!" The voice was sharp, a tone that made her wince and freeze. Slowly, she turned and straightened, not able to meet Luna's fiery gaze.

Birty stood up, her good-natured laughing not reaching the tension between Luna and Serenity. "Oh come now. Nothing to worry about. The dear just came down for a spot of Butterbeer. We were having a nice chat now, weren't we?"

Serenity forced a weak smile to her lips for Birty's sake.

"I was just fetching some clippings on the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts last year. My grandchildren attend there don't you know?" Birty said proudly. "Just the other day--"

Luna mustered her own strained smile, cutting Birty off with her regal voice. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but it is getting late. Serenity should be getting to bed."

Serenity glared openly.

"Oh… oh yes. I suppose so." Birty heaved a sigh.

"But Luna--" Serenity cried.

"That is enough, Serenity!" Luna shouted, walking towards the stairs.

Serenity turned, resigned, to face Birty. "Goodnight then, I suppose..." she said dully.

"Goodnight, Deary!" Birty cried cheerfully, and Serenity was startled as Birty slipped some of the newspapers to her with a wink.

"Serenity!" Luna snapped.

Serenity gaped for a moment at Birty before stammering back, "C-coming." She sent a quick smile to Birty, hid the clippings in her crimson robes, and then flew past Luna who shadowed behind her up the steps. It was silent as they journeyed back to their compartments, and sensing Luna's grim demeanor, the tension from before eased its way back into her. Luna opened the door and Serenity swept into the room with bated breath. Luna didn't disappoint her.

"Serenity, I thought you had more sense than that," Luna plowed on the moment the door was closed.

Serenity's face contorted. "I only went downstairs! I am not a prisoner."

"No, you are not! You're just a foolish girl who can't even take her situation seriously. It is Artemis' and my job to protect you, and that is what we will do," Luna finished, voice trembling in her anger.

"And you think this is what's best for me?" Serenity demanded in shrill disbelief. "You won't even tell me anything! For months both of you have been dragging me across Europe. I think I deserve to know why! I am not an idiot; something is after me. I am sick of you from confiscating any newspaper I acquire or talking to anyone!" Serenity clamped her mouth shut for a few moments to sedate her anger.

"Serenity," Luna seemed to struggle with speaking, "We… are facing hard times. Right now, the public view is blinded by lies. Honestly, I don't want you to know the truth either."

When Serenity spoke again, her voice had turned strained and deliberately slow. "Birty… she said--Well, there are rumors that Voldemort's returned… Is she right?"

"Don't say his name." Luna's face had paled.

"That's silly," Serenity snapped, but she was watching Luna carefully. "It is him, then, isn't it." A wave of light was finally enveloping the mystery that had tortured her and she stepped forward, her voice growing stronger. "Isn't it? Tell me what he wants!"

Luna breathed deeply. "Serenity, I want you to pack your things. Once Artemis returns, we will be leaving."

Serenity's vision blurred from angry tears. She turned and stormed to her cupboard-sized room, slamming the door shut behind her and collapsing against it. If only she had her wand, she would cast a locking charm. Anger, frustration, and hurt tingled beneath her skin. It took ten minutes for her to calm--ten minutes to numb, to breathe easier through the knot in her throat… to remember the newspaper clippings.

She blinked, lifting her head and looking around the room that was cast in silvery-blue moonlight. Checking, she saw the dark form of Matty in the painting, listening to the faint snores. She clambered onto her bed and reached over to touch the dusty lamp (supposedly a muggle contraption tampered with by Birty's son-in-law--there was an electric wire protruding from its body, though unplugged). A moldy, yellow light shed across the room and, breathing hard, Serenity spread the newspaper clippings over the comforter.

For the next quarter of an hour, she delved through the articles. There were many extravagant ones giving updates on all the tasks of the Triwizard tournament, which was why her disbelief and suspicions rose at comparing them with the handful of sentences that informed of the winner after the third, undetailed task. She peered down at the moving picture of the boy she had glimpsed in it earlier. It was the first time she had seen a picture of Harry Potter. He had to be her age, too young for the age requirement of the tournament. The articles previous to the flimsy last one gave all the juicy details, relishing the scandal and surprise of a fourth opponent in the competition.

It was too strange of a coincidence, especially with it being Harry Potter. She sifted through the remaining articles with a frown, trying to read inbetween the lines. Except for the single article of the denial of the rumors, there were no other references to Voldemort or anything at all being wrong in the wizarding community. After the Triwarzard tournament, however, Serenity was a bit disconcerted to find sneaky inferences to Harry Potter being a crazy nut and--she snorted at this--Albus Dumbledore himself going senile.

She had grown up being taught of what a great wizard Albus Dumbledore was, and despite never having met him, there was a fierce loyalty inside her to him. Luna and Artemis told her how he had known her parents and, at their deaths, took matters into his own hands that the last of the Lunar bloodline was in safe hands. She knew that it was because of his meddling that she was allowed special license to use magic (under the teachings of her appointed guardians) from a very young age. She moaned, falling back and rolling her head over her pillow. Perhaps if she could talk to him, he would tell Luna and Artemis to give her her wand back.

Serenity stared dolefully at the ceiling for some time longer. As her eyelids dipped closed, the bewitched lamp on her bedside dimmed, and she found herself in a very strange dream. Blue moonlight pooled through cathedral windows into a long room scattered by four-poster beds. Serenity watched the scene levitatingly above, feeling like a ghost as she floated around. Her heart pounded, her breaths loud and ragged as if her ears were muffled.

She passed over the beds, eyeing the sleeping teen boys in them. One boy with a mop of fiery hair was murmuring in a dreamy, wheezing voice. "I got it… I got it. Whyztha quaffle pink?"

The boy looked oddly familiar, but she didn't even pause by him. The boy in the neighboring bed was muttering in his sleep like the other, but she felt a sick trepidition with his case. His breathing turned labored; he twisted and turned, face pale and breaking out into cold sweat. "Just a bit further…"

Alarmed, she reached out to wake him (startled when she saw her own milky arm, for it had felt as if she possessed no body at all). She tried to shake him, unable to find her voice. His head lulled to the side, and it was then that, as he blinked his bleary eyes open, that she saw the lightning scar on his forehead. She woke up with a start in her own bed, a pair of bright green eyes lingering in her mind, her crescent moon burning once again on her forehead before fading.

She sat up, disoriented, as if her own blood was tingling and vibrating as it rushed through her. The room was dark and only the soft snores from the unseen painting calmed her. Her tensed shoulders drooped, and she balanced on a moment between going back to sleep or attempt polite conversation with Luna(as long as she stayed away from topics such as her wand, freedom, and right to know things, she thought she could manage it). Waking from the dream, left her too alert for the prior option, and still feeling chalk-white, she shuffled across to the main room.

"Luna?" she called out softly, opening the door. When her vision encompassed the whole room, she was struck dumb by the sight of Luna once again sleeping in one of the chairs. She had already been yelled at once that evening, but… she was still shaken from the dream, and the lingering fury in her blood at Luna hadn't entirely left her. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to try again, "Luna!" She squinted one eye open to look. Now, Luna was a terribly light sleeper. At a different time, Serenity might have realized something wasn't quite right and would have worried, but her heart leapt.

She craned her neck to try and see Luna's face. "Luna, I'm going downstairs again," she informed in a sing-songy voice, half-what expecting that Luna would shoot to her feet and tell her no. Well, this time, if Luna caught her, she could honestly say that she had asked permission first. With this satisfactory thinking, Serenity found herself slipping downstairs for the second time.

Whether partly influenced from the dream, she felt different as she entered the dining and lobby area. The massive fireplace was still ablaze, but its muffled crackling was the only noise and the cheerful innkeeper was nowhere in sight, only the old wizard from earlier there, hunched over his chess game and snoring. She glanced over at a wizard's clock to the face that reflected the night's sky with suspended stars for the numerals and felt her spirit deplete. Birty had to be asleep.

Squashing her disappointment, Serenity walked across the wooden floor, opting to curl into a scarlet, moth-eaten chair in front of the fire. The room felt so different being quiet. It was easy to fool herself into thinking she was the only one there. Her clouded eyes flickered over the burnished tables, gazed for awhile at the wizard's clock starry face, and later turned to study the framed photos on the mantel. She looked particularly hard at the chess-loving, freckled face boy from before, but only a cheek muscle and his nose twitched in sleep. It was as she contemplated borrowing the wizard's chess set (he certainly didn't seem to be using it), when she caught sight of a book left open on the table beside her chair--a worn copy of A Study of Muggles by Victor Hunting. Serenity reached for it, an eyebrow raising at the scribble inside the cover:

Dear Birty -

Thought you'd enjoy this. Delightful book! Molly refused to read it. Perhaps if you

recommended it? Do you believe the author spent his whole life among muggles?

Just amazing. Be sure to read chapter 6--muggle psychology, 16--daily life

without magic, and 23--rubber duckies (he wrote that chapter upon request; I daresay

 that I've been a fan of his for some time.) Do enjoy! ~ love Arthur

PS. Children doing fine

Against her better judgment, Serenity began reading. She was engrossed partly through the chapter Muggles' Awareness of Magical Creatures*, when a cold draft seemed to glide through her as if she had just passed through a ghost. There were no ghosts at Wingtail Inn. She looked around, disconcerted more at not finding anything. She scrunched her eyes, turning them determinedly back to the place she was reading.

'Astonishing through it may seem to many wizards, Muggles have not always been ignorant of the magical and monstrous creatures that we have worked so long and hard to hide. A glance'--Serenity froze, eyes fixed blindly on the page as another unsettling feeling washed through her. Her fingers tightened; she read on. 'A glance through Muggle art and literature of Middle Ages reveals that many of the creatures they now believe to be imaginary were then known to be real…'

Serenity fought to concentrate, even as it felt like her mind was swollen, growing heavy and fearful, remembering--reliving--the last time she had this feeling. She had been alone by the fire, watching the flames turn a sickly green, captured by the sight of a symbol glowing, the image of skeleton with a snake for a tongue. Artemis had made them leave as soon as possible, but... Serenity turned her eyes up over the book, staring hard into the flames. It's perfectly normal, a stern voice snapped inside her as if she were an idiot for even looking. The dancing yellow flames before her flickered its reflection in her eyes for the moments she took studying it. Keep reading! Her hands were shaky. She looked back down with greater determination. The dragon… unicorn, the phoenix… Muggle works--

A fleeting blowing sound reached her ears, dragging her gaze slowly to the window nearest her. It was fogged in a plate-size circle as if a massive dog had breathed on it. She frowned, checking the other--unfogged--windows. Her stomach began plummeting even before an invisible quill started writing in the pearly condensation.

Ser…e…n…i--slowly, the scripted letters looped and formed, her stomach twisting even more as it did--n… i…t… y. Then with a sudden flourish… Moonsquire. Her breath hitched and all at once she rose hazardly to her feet, stumbling back as fast as she could.

Gnarled hands slapped over her shoulders; her heart leapt into her throat, blood thundering in her ears. She swung around, expecting anything but the chess-playing-wizard. "Something startle you, there?" he drawled in a low, growling voice.

She retreated a step, mindless that he was studying her far too shrewdly for being newly-woken. She was too distracted by his one bulging, electric blue eye swiveling wildly in its socket.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * End Authors Notes * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~* ~ * ~ * ~* ~ * ~ * ~

* the writing about muggles and their awareness of magical creatures isn't really from my made-up Muggle Studies book, but taken from the short section of it in the pamplet-book "Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them," that Rowling wrote for charity.

Yes, I know I haven't done much writing lately, and trust me, it's torturing me as just as much as any of you. I'm having trouble getting myself to write for Tsuki no Namida or War of the Roses; it's been feeling more like trudging through mud--not an elating feeling. ^_^;; I WILL be trying hard to get back into the flow for both stories, as well as my Christmas fic. I finally got 1-5 of the Harry Potter books (I previously only had the two movies), and for once in some time I felt inspired to write. JK Rowling's world is such a delight that it's hard to resist the impulse to dig my fingers in and fiddle around a bit.

I hope you like what I've come up with! ^_^ I had fun writing this (hehe… I liked the quip of Ron asking why the quaffle's pink in his dream myself…^_^). Right now, a friend is suggesting/warning me to keep the fifth yr essentially the same, go through it quickly with Serenity on the sidelines, and get to the grit of the story for the sixth year. Personally, I'd prefer if they with all 16, I'm just not sure how tempted I'll be to have her be involved earlier. Anyway, thought I'd just see what you guys think about tampering with the fifth books events—no go territory or a go for it? Any suggestions or ideas are welcome. Though this story is at the moment, just an avenue for writing relief, II'll be researching the books and sites more thoroughly and making notes. I just don't want to obsess with it like I tend to do with my other stories.

I'd love to here your thoughts, anyhow, for anything with the plot, characters, scene-ideas and such--perhaps even more trouble the Weasley twins can do? ^_^ For a last note, I know a lot of my usual readers out there might have trouble over Darien not being in this--just have faith! I haven't completely forsaken you. It's only in these rare crossovers... bare with this whim of mine? It's "self-healing writing"-- *nods matter of factly*

Hope you've enjoyed! Star 3


Harry Potter and characters © JK Rowling | Sailor Moon characters © Naoko Teukuchi