Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or Harry Potter. I'm just playing with the characters. I will, eventually and unfortunately, have to return them. After I finish this story.

Hermione Granger woke up screaming.

Now you might think, Is that normal? The answer would be, No. No, it is not.

You see, Hermione had recently fought a war, been tortured for hours on end, and had a filthy slur carved into her arm with a cursed knife. In short, she had been through, in her nineteen years, much, much more than anyone should have to in their entire lifetimes.

The press was after her at all times of the day. She could barely move without being photographed for tomorrow's paper.

Her friends lapped up the fame, but nerdy, quiet, shy Hermione hated it. She despised it. She abhorred it.

Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World, always had 'a few seconds' to go over what happened during the war—again. Of course, the conversation over a cup of tea usually turned into an hour long discussion—usually about himself and Ron.

Ron, Harry Potter's faithful sidekick, was quite the famous Quidditch player now, and his fame made his large head even bigger. That's all the press was good for: stroking peoples' egos. Goodness knew they couldn't write worth a damn!

Ginny...well, the girl had her own column in the paper, which usually described makeup tips, fashion tips, and various sex positions that she and Harry had tried. An hour after the paper was published, Hermione usually came across several couples furiously humping in the acclaimed position.

Luna now ran the Quibbler, a rather nonsensical magazine that didn't really have any real information.

All of her other friends were busy with their own lives.

Leaving poor Hermione in the dust.

Everything was going to change, though. She had decided to move to America, to a small town called Forks in Washington. Actually, she had decided to move nearly six months ago, but no one knew. Apparently, no one cared. She would have told them, had they only asked, but no one ever asked about her, or, if they did, it was just reflex.

Hermione looked around her small flat, noting the boxes upon boxes of books that littered the room. She must have had twenth heavy boxes of books, two boxes of furniture and other knick-knacks, and a small bag of clothes. She could, of course, Transfigure any of her clothes into anything else that she wanted to wear.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked herself. The answer would be, No, I'm bloody well not!, but that answer didn't matter. She was moving, and she was going to go through with it. She would not refuse to leave because of something she couldn't bear to part with, because there was nothing left here to bother with.

She took a deep breath and shrunk the boxes to the size that they would fit in her pocket. She looked around the small, two-room apartment, and walked out the door, leaving the key inside.

It was time to start a new life.

Hermione stumbled slightly when she landed. Apparating always made her head spin. She looked around, and found herself behind a building, the sign of which read Forks High School.

She walked around the front, and immediately spotted a head of long, dark brown hair.

"Hello!" Hermione called, waving at the girl. The girl turned, and smiled at her.

"Hello," she answered, walking over. "Are you new?"

Hermione smiled in relief. She had been worried about her cover story. "Yes," she said. "I'm Hermione Granger. I just moved here from England."

"I'm Bella Swan. Nice to meet you."

"You, too," said Hermione. "Um, can you point me in the direction of the office?"

"I'll take you there," Bella said, clapping her hands and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Hermione followed Bella, observing her carefully. She had an air of magic around her, but not like a witch's magic. No, it was something more... Hermione didn't actually know. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.

Bella had beautiful, waist-long, dark brown hair with auburn undertones and very pale skin. Hermione wondered if she had some sort of skin defect, like not enough melanin. She was around five-foot-three, as far as Hermione could tell, with not much meat on her bones. She had a heart-shaped face, high, prominent cheekbones, and chocolate brown eyes.

Bella stopped in front of a large wooden door. "This is the office," she said, flourishing her arm towards the door.

"Thanks, Bella," Hermione said gratefully. "I'll probably see you in class later."

"I hope so!" Bella squealed. "I'll introduce you to my friends."

Hermione smiled and waved, and watched as Bella walked back down the hall with a spring in her step. Her smile faded, and she pushed open the door.

"How may I help you, dear?" A middle-aged woman asked. She sat behind a large desk covered with papers and more than a few pictures of not-so-cute little kids.

"Um, my name's Hermione Granger and I just moved from Hampstead, England. I'm a senior this year."

The secretary shuffled through a cabinet of student files. "Sorry, dear, I don't see your name. Are you sure you got the right town?"

Hermione fake-frowned. "It might be under my mother's maiden name, I suppose. Try Wilkins." Behind her back, she flicked her wand to add a faux file.

"Ah, here it is. Wilkins. Your birthday, dear?"

"September 19th, 1979."

"Here's your schedule, dear. Have a nice day."

Hermione smirked as she accepted the piece of paper. She couldn't believe how easy that had been. She checked her schedule and learned that she had Math. She quickly found the classroom, and opened the door as quietly as she could.

"Who are you?" The teacher asked.

"Hermione Granger, sir. I just moved here."

The teacher, Mr. Smith, waved his hand in the direction of the students, who, Hermione discovered, were all staring unabashedly at her. "Take a seat, Granger. Beside anyone who has an empty chair. Then shut up."

Hermione didn't care for the dismissal, but looked around the room. The only empty seat was beside a boy with honey-blond hair and even paler skin than Bella, something she had not thought possible.

She slid into the seat beside him, pulling out her supplies and arranging them neatly on the desk. "Hello," she said, just to be polite.

The boy glanced at her. "Hello," he answered tersely. "Hermione, right?"

She nodded. "Um, yeah. What's your name?"

"Jasper Hale. I live with the Cullens."

Hermione blinked. She hadn't heard that name in a long time. She had read about Dr. Cullen and his adopted family, but something about their story had seemed...off. "Nice to meet you," she offered.

Jasper just grunted. Hermione studied him out of the corner of her eye. He also had the weird air of magic surrounding him, but again, Hermione didn't know what to make of it. She would have to study up on the Cullens.

She shrugged and turned her attention forward, even though she'd already learned what Mr. Smith was teaching — in fourth year.

Jasper snuck glances at the new girl. She seemed nice enough, but there was just something about her...

She seemed fake — like she wasn't happy to be there, but pretended to be to appear normal.

And her eyes...

He hadn't seen so much pain in someone's eyes since before he had been changed. It was like she had seen death many times over, like she had watched her best friend die before her.

He determined right then to take care of her, to watch over and protect this fragile-looking girl that seemed so lonely.

He had no idea about just how well she could take care of herself.

A/N: I hope you liked this! Just so you know — there is no updating process. I just wanted to write this because I'd never done something like this before. I'll do my best to update at least every other week, but no promises. My workload has doubled since I foolishly decided it wasn't enough to belong to a mere 9 forums and joined 2 more...

Like all authors, I live for reviews. Please let me know what you think!