Just to clear up some technical issues, Twilight and New Moon are sort of mooshed together in this story. So instead of Jacob phasing for the first time in New Moon, it happens now in what would be Twilight. Also, Bella WILL be in this story, just a little later on. And Eclipse and Breaking Dawn didn't happen, at all. (:
I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I apologize for the long wait, I got caught up in life and such. This chapter is rather lengthy, because it contains a lot of progress, it's over 10,000 words. Ahhhh! I know. But I really, really, enjoyed writing it.
don't own; don't sue
And I know that it's complicated,
But I'm a loser in love.
So baby raise a glass to mend
All the broken hearts,
Of all my wrecked up friends.
"Ashleighhhhh, it's not fair that you get to have all the fun!" Jacob whined, plopping down on his best friend's bed with a loud thump. Even at 14 he was still larger and more muscular than the rest of his friends, and he resented that.
"Jake, you know how it goes, I'm the cooler of us two." A blonde girl commented, her hair falling in ringlets to the middle of her back in a endless winding flow of sunshine dust and wheat colored strands. This was Ashleigh, and her narrow face, and high cheekbones made her the prettiest girl in school. She wasn't like everyone else on the reservation, she was other-worldly, unique.
"Still," The dark haired boy continued, his voice scratchy with jealousy, "That doesn't mean you can go to some stuck-up European country and drink wine with the Brits or, or eat crumpets with the French of whatever the hell they do!" He grumbled, playing with the edge of the blanket, distracting himself from watching his best friend pack.
"You've got your cultures a little mixed up there, Jacob." She commented idly, tucking her makeup bag into her suitcase delicately. She heard her twin brother Ashton rustling about downstairs and sighed. "Ash is home, don't be startled if he comes tumbling in here in the next few minutes." Ashleigh smiled when she saw Jacob blush at the mention of her brother. He mumbled a quiet 'whatever' in response to the statement.
As if on cue, the door flew open and Ashleigh's equally, if not more, beautiful twin sauntered into the center of the room. He was tall, slender, almost effeminate in his frame and build. He had soft lines where it counted and hardened ones where it mattered most. His hair was blonde like his sisters, only lighter, more platinum. His eyes were carved from glaciers, melting perfectly into an icy blue puddle of color swirling in his irises. Well, at least, this is how Jacob would describe the boy if he were asked to. Well maybe not if he were asked to, because that could prove to be quite embarrassing. No words could effectively describe the elegance and grace and beauty that Ashton possessed.
"Hmm, Ashton, have you finished your packing already?" Ashleigh didn't seem surprised, just annoyed that her alone time with Jacob had been interrupted.
"I finished that menial task an hour after we were informed we'd be leaving." He snipped, looking bored and uninterested. With great looks comes the great burden of a terrible personality. "I came to inform you that father has decided that we leave tonight, instead of tomorrow. Going earlier will allow for a smoother time schedule." With that, he turned on his heel and left without so much as a backwards glance.
Ashleigh sighed for the second time that day. "Why do you love him so much Jake?" She could see the mortified look on his face without even peeking in his direction. She knew he despised it when she brought this particular subject up. "I'm sure it isn't his flawless charm."
"Ashleigh, you know I fell in love with him that day we bumped into each other in school. He was perfection in it's purest form, and I wanted him more than anything." Jacob leaned his head against the wall desperately, trying to ignore the melancholy of unrequited love and it's desperate persistence in trying to invade his mind.
"Well, we're leaving Jacob, probably for good." She huffed, eyes taking on a dark tone. "I know I said that it was just a little trip, but it isn't. We're leaving the country for a long, long, time." Her face was contorted in an expression of mismatched emotions that didn't do well marring her elegant face. Jacob looked hurt but sucked it up, he was tough, had thick skin. He could take this, handle loosing his best friend right before his eyes and suffer knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it.
"So, I understand that your feelings are 'so deep', but, I suggest you get the fuck over them while you still can." Her words weren't as harsh as they should have seemed, her eyes were soft, taking away from the ferocity of the statement.
"Why are you guys leaving anyway?" He asked, eyes welling up with non-existent tears, phantom representations of his emotions. "And don't you dare tell me it's for your Dad's work, cuz' we both know that's a heaping load!" He hissed defensively, eyes watching as Ashleigh clicked the latches on her suitcase with finality.
"Jacob, you're my best friend," She began, eyes overflowing with sadness. She looked away, continuing, "W-we're fleeing. Father won't say from who, or what, but we are." She walked over and kneeled in front of Jacob, taking his warm hands into hers. "Jake, I'm scared. I don't know what to do."
Her words tore Jake's heart out and threw it onto the floor.
"Tell my Dad, him and the others will protect you, and-!" He was cut short by Ashleigh's pleading voice.
"It's not enough, Jake! We have to leave." A tear slid out of her eye, carving a path down her cheekbone mockingly. Jake stood up in one fluid movement, determination evident on his face. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She whispered, her blonde bangs falling into her red-rimmed eyes.
"Tell your Dad and Ash that I'll miss them," He said, turning to leave. He glanced back, his chest tight at the sight of one of the first people he'd come to care about. "I hope this isn't the last time we see each other, Ashleigh." He left without another word.
The next time he saw her was four months later, watching her coffin being lowered into the dirt. Jacob wiped away another stream of tears as his fingers traced the words across the headstone. He laid a sunflower onto the freshly turned earth of Ashleigh's grave. He wanted to crush something, hurt someone, do something destructive. He placed a pale pink rose, so cliché and boring, onto Ashton's equally depressing burial place.
He hated everything, hated life, hated the bastards who did this – the bloodsuckers. He still couldn't believe they existed, couldn't fathom that it was a reality. But his Father would never lie to him, and he swore, as he screamed at the God's that he'd kill whatever vampire did this.
And I'll never love again,
Oh boy you've left me speechless.
You've left me speechless, so speechless.
Jacob flew up in his bed, sweat slicking his skin like a protective shell. He shivered automatically, wrapping his blanket around himself self-consciously even though there was no one else in the room besides himself. He felt discomforted. He hadn't dreamt about his best friend and her brother, who happened to be his first love, in years. He shook his head, desperately trying to rid himself of the thoughts.
He'd never found the vampi- no, bloodsuckers that had killed the two most important people to him. He hadn't avenged them, hadn't found that right amount of closure, and because of that he ran from the whole mess. Ran from his feelings, from his thoughts, everything. He had enough to worry about being a werewolf, the last thing he needed was pesky memories to add to his already heaping plate.
He'd come to terms with them eventually, just not today.
The sun peeked through his curtains shyly, warming his already hot skin to an all new level of toasty. He rolled out of the comfort of his bed and meandered downstairs, with the thought of eventually making it into the kitchen for some breakfast. It was Monday, and it was sunny and bright outside. Not a cloud to be seen. He was just about to enter the kitchen when he caught sight of Sam sitting at the table, speaking to his Dad. He huffed, plastering on his happy face before making his way into the room.
"Mornin' Pops, hey Sam." He greeted smoothly, opening the refrigerator door to retrieve the OJ. He was playing it safe with a neutral tone.
"Hey Jake," Sam started, his eyes watching the young wolf's every movement with careful accuracy and assessment. Ever since the stupid Seth incident Sam had been watching him like a hawk. It wasn't his fault everyone around here was so frigid and couldn't take a freakin' joke. Jake buttered his toast with carefully executed grace and ease. "I was just stopping by to let you know that the Potter kid took up Mr. Malfoy or whoever's offer, so your assistance is going to be needed at their home today." Sam stated, waiting for a reaction.
Jake's face lit up, a smile forming on his lips, "Mmm, I'll take an opportunity to hang with Rem and his fam anyday." The younger replied. He'd really taken to the older werewolf when he'd visited last week, he was a calming presence, something Jacob found himself needing much too often.
"Good to hear," Sam's look all but screamed skeptic and unsure. "You'll need to be there at 12:30, sharp." The pack leader elaborated before standing. He nodded to Jacob and Billy before taking his leave. Jacob bit his toast ferociously, staring out the window at the baby blue sky. Sunshine meant no bloodsuckers, and no bloodsuckers meant a happy Jacob Black. Ahhh, it was going to be a good day.
Bronze. Bronze. Bronze.
Harry hated everything and anything colored or made of bronze. Bronze bedposts, bronze medals, bronzed skin, bronze jewelery. Bronze hair that shone so delicately in the faint tendrils of light that managed to get past the clouds in Forks, causing each strand to be illuminated like a perfect reddish colored halo.
"You should really consider becoming a poet, Harry." Edward chided from his spot on the aforementioned boys bed, his body stretched out and relaxed. His face was buried nose deep in a book that he was supposedly 'reading.' Harry's thoughts apparently were more interesting.
"Stay out of my head, Cullen." Harry commented, flipping the page of his textbook in irritation. He'd been trying to get some work done for the past half hour, but the vampire currently residing in his room had prevented that.
"Don't invite me in." He retorted, hands turning a page idly, making it seem as if it's contents were being read. The elder switched the subject, "When is that mutt coming down?" He asked, eyes still trained unwaveringly to the copy of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' resting innocently in his grasp.
"Albus said around 12:30," Harry answered, scribbling down answers into his notebook. "You know you can't be around when-"
"I know, I know." Edward interjected. He threw a look at the back of the boy sitting at the mahogany desk. He smiled without hesitation, not even realizing what he was doing. "I'll be here until he's about to walk through the doorway, and back the second he steps out to leave." Edward informed as he stared at Harry's form as he furiously scribbled down answers on his homework. 'Cute.' The vampire thought for a fleeting second, before shaking the thought away.
"You know, you're beginning to sound and act like a stalker," Harry stated matter-of-factly, spinning around in his office chair to face the vampire who was quickly becoming his only friend in this god awful place. "Quite frankly, I'm worried." He smiled.
Edward gazed at the boy in front of him and smiled back unwillingly, soaking in the pleasant moment. It had been on and off, hot and cold, with Harry for the past week. They had gotten closer, bit by bit, and with each moment they spent together Edward felt like he knew the other a little more, could read him better. And then he went and did something completely unexpected, throwing his perfect little theories into the trashcan. One moment, the young wizard was hinting on that he liked him, and then the next he was being completely sarcastic and ridiculous. He was hot-tempered, that Edward was positive of. He was intelligent, very intelligent, but he didn't let on to it. He hid himself well, behind a mask that looked as if it had taken a very long while to craft. The vampire found himself intrigued by this, enchanted. He wanted to know why that mask was there, why these impenetrable walls had been built. So he could formulate the quickest and easiest way to tear them down.
"Hmm, not a stalker, just concerned." Edward replied, his eyes still resting on the beautiful creature before him.
"Concerned? Over what?" Harry questioned, his voice happy and disbelieving. He faintly heard the sound of Albus yelling over winter jackets and Hershey bars melted to the inside of pockets.
"Your safety," Edward began, finally shutting his book and setting it next to him, "I don't believe you'll be protected properly during this meeting." The vampire stated stuffily, his honey brown eyes staring into Harry's emerald ones.
"You doubt this Jacob Black and his abilities, but not because you've seen what he's capable of, but because there is bad blood between you two?" Harry observed, blinking incredulously at his own moment of intelligence.
"Your cognition astounds me," Edward commented idly, resting his hands behind his head lazily. "You're correct, if only partially so." The vampire licked his lips in thought, wondering if he should volunteer a more in-depth explanation, or continue this little game of questions.
"It's obvious it isn't personal, since your family showed aversion to Remus when they were first introduced," Harry hummed in thought, tapping his pencil on his desk. "And I remember reading somewhere about Vampires and Shape-shifters in general disliking each other for some idiotic reason or another." Harry shot a look at the vampire, looking to gauge his reaction. He was met with a neutral gaze.
"My family and I try to be open minded, and although the Quileute's have been more than accommodating, there is still some lingering animosity between us." Edward explained, shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed.
"Still doesn't explain why you lot as a whole don't like Shifts, it's nonsensical in my eyes, you both come from the same leaf, albeit different sides." Harry chided, turning back to his studies with the intent to get something done.
"Vampires are unsettled by them," Edward said gently, his eyes never leaving the space Harry occupied. "They are in essence, the complete opposite of us. Warm, full of life, two separate identities, it makes us uneasy. Not to mention their scent is absolutely repugnant to us." Edward sighed as he watched Harry struggle with a problem, toying with the idea of offering his help briefly, but quickly remembering his adamant refusal earlier in the week.
"Your family has two separate personalities also, living a true double life." Harry pointed out before continuing to scrawl down his explanation of Gel-Electrophoresis. "Your "human life," and also your true one, your vampire existence." He made a point.
"Which is why we try to be as accepting as possible." Edward shot back, sounding slightly defensive.
Harry sighed, pushing his work away from him in dismay as he stared out the window. It was cold outside, they were calling for snow. Two weeks and it would be Christmas, time was flying by like a shred of ribbon in the wind. He stared at his vampire friend. Is that really what he considered Edward, a friend? He believed it, but not fully. Ron and Hermione were his friends, were his brick wall. Albus was his friend, his eternal friend, through thick and thin. Edward was the makings of a friend, the chocolate shell of an unfilled dessert. The ice cream without the topping, the tea minus the gooey and sweet honey. He had debated with himself long into the night about this, this formulating relationship and the feelings it provided. He knew it would never stay "just friends." He could feel it in the very core of his bones, in the muscular walls of his heart, in the center of his magic, he knew that it would never stay neutral. He and Edward would one day, whether that be in 5 months or 5 years, be together. He didn't know how he knew this, how he could tell so soon, he just could.
He wasn't blind nor was he idiotic. He could see the wheels turning in Edwards mind, see the traces of affection. It disarranged Harry, but excited him at the same time. He had never had someone who had truly felt attracted to him, and him only. There was always a disclaimer, the clause in fine print, the extra attention given due to his status as the The-Boy-Who-Vanquished-The-Dark-Lord, or whatever other bullshit title the public crowned him with. He had never had anyone not know who he was, know that he was famous, that he had killed, destroyed, done unthinkable things in a war so simplistic in nature. He never had that one person who he could tell anything, things that he didn't even have the courage to disclose to Albus. Things that were necessary for closure. He needed it, needed that single undying, wholly understanding, love to find peace. He needed peace, peace of mind, of body, of spirit.
Post-trauma or whatever the hell they labeled it was slowly eating him up from the inside out, like a cancer.
He needed Edward. He needed eternity, eternity to slowly find that place where he could be utterly blissful. It would take decades before he could finally come to terms with everything, it was unthinkable to do so in any shorter amount of time. He had never been able to mourn anything, his parents, his friends, his allies, his hits, his misses. All of those personal emotional thoughts and experiences had been overlooked in order to reach the ultimate goal: The defeat of evil. He stared at the mind-reader in momentary anguish. Would he be willing? And then Harry realized that Edward had gone even longer without that one person, had witnessed countless more tragedies, and had somehow turned out a normal human-being, minus the vampire aspect. And right then and there he knew that even if Edward and he remained just friends till' the end of their days, they'd always at least be there. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts. 'Way to bloody get head of yourself.' He blamed it on his reliable sense of intuition. 'Hah, intuition that's gotten you almost killed, dismembered, and tortured.' He mentally reprimanded.
"Whatever you're thinking about, stop." Edward commanded, somehow having walked across the room in the midst of Harry's thoughts. He was leaning against the wall by his desk, looking effortlessly elegant as always. "Or at least let me hear them so I can help." The vampire offered hopefully, trying to manipulate him into letting him into his mind. Harry almost laughed, imagining the reaction he'd receive at his mental declarations.
"Nice try Cullen, but I don't think so." He smiled, closing his books and materials dejectedly. He'd gotten nothing done. "These ones are off-limits to vamp stalkers." He poked playfully, standing to go downstairs. He could heard Albus making a ruckus in the kitchen, and assumed he was either making lunch, or was experimenting. "Downstairs?" Harry said, indicating his need to leave the confines of his room. Edward nodded, opening the door with a flourish for Harry. He had to chuckle at the action, sometimes the undead-boy was just too much.
They walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, only to see a mess of various herbs and potions equipment strewn everywhere. Albus was standing over a cauldron, stirring what appeared to be a orange type goo, his hair frazzled and frizzy from the humidity, with pieces of Valerian root sticking out of his beard.
"Al, I didn't know you were secretly a mad scientist." Harry joked, walking over to get a better look at the concoction being mixed. Snape would be throwing a fit if he saw the lack of care for the ingredients being displayed by the former Headmaster. Albus just smiled knowingly in response to the jab, giving Harry the eerie feeling he often felt when he was graced with the signature eye-twinkle, and 'I Know Something You Don't' smile. He sighed, feeling Edwards presence next to him as they looked at the mess on the counter.
"What are you brewing?" Harry asked curiously, noting the scrunched expression on his vampire companions face as he got a particularly good whiff of the mixture.
"Wolfsbane." The elder stated simply, his eyes alight with mirth as he added some sort of carrot-like ingredient. The explanation would explain the look of disgust on Edward's face.
"If I remember correctly, Wolfsbane isn't orange? Ever?" Harry walked around the island counter and retrieved an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, he began rinsing it off when Albus replied.
"I've made some modifications and improvements." Harry knew he wasn't getting anymore information from his best friend, so he opted to see what time it was. 12:15. He growled in irritation. The closer it got to Jacobs arrival, the closer it became to Malfoy's. And to a very unwanted, unneeded, and unwelcome meeting.
"Edward, you should probably be leaving soon." He glanced over to see Edward looking at him blankly, before nodding. Edward was around the counter and in front of Harry before the young wizard could blink, he almost gasped in surprise, cursing vampire speed. Edward was looking down at him, the tiniest wrinkles of worry lining his marble face. "Edward-"
"Shhh, Harry." Edward pressed his finger to Harry's chapped lips, effectively silencing him. "Don't let your guard down, at all, not even for a fraction of a second." Edward warned, his honey colored irises locking with Harry's emerald gems.
"I'll be fine, stop being a worrywart." Harry joked, trying to lighten the thick cloud of emotions surrounding the two. Edward shook his head defiantly, refusing to acknowledge the derision.
"Don't think I'm so oblivious to your world as you think," Edward let his index finger trace a line down the Wizarding Worlds Savior's jaw delicately. "I know about Slytherins, and I certainly know of the Malfoys. I may not know much about the war, or what you were involved in, but I know enough about purebloods to know that you should be wary." The tone he used commanded respect, and Harry found himself getting lost in the sound of the others voice. It was impossible for him not to listen to the words being spoken by the dazzling creature before him. He snapped himself out of, covering his face with a mask of indifference.
"I've dealt with them before," Harry replied, doing his best to convince Edward he was more than capable of taking care of himself. "Besides, Mr. Malfoy and his family have endured just as I have, they're no longer as harsh as they used to be." Harry knew he was lying a little, all things considered. He had made the Malfoy's life more than difficult after the war, each of them enduring a sentence in Azkaban of at least 6 months, even longer for Mr. Malfoy. Their family was heavily restricted, but still extremely influential. That didn't change their tarnished reputation though, and that was what Harry guessed they reproached him for the most.
Edward nodded, looking completely unconvinced. The vampire leaned forward and rested his forehead against Harry's, enjoying the warmth his skin provided. The young wizard smiled at the other, finding the way Edward was saying goodbye cute and endearing. Within moments the other was gone, leaving Harry feeling alone.
"Ahhh, young love," Albus mused from his position in front of the cauldron. "Such a beautiful thing." He chuckled merrily as the potion suddenly acquired purple streaks in it.
"Stuff it." Harry snapped, taking a bite from his apple. He wasn't in the mood for his former headmaster's cheek, or anyone's for that matter. He just wanted to be left alone, in some remote location of the world, with a lifetime supply of books and the best foods in the world. No humans, vampires, shape shifters, or deranged Death Eaters knocking down his door and creating chaos in his life.
As it was, Fate hated him, and decided at that particular moment to release a rambunctious Jacob Black and a thoroughly jovial Remus Lupin on him. Harry buried his face in his hands comically when he heard the front door fly open and voices enter. There was the sound of footsteps nearing the kitchen, and the unmistakeable softness of Remus's voice, and the hearty guffaw of whom he assumed was this Jacob character.
"Mmmmm, something smells delicious!" He heard the younger of the two werewolves say, as they entered the kitchen. Harry gaped, not at the comment, (which was rather ridiculous in and of itself, considering the Wolfsbane smelled of wet skunk) but at the teenager presented before him. He was taller than Harry, by at least a good 5 or 6 inches, and was incredibly fit, to the point of ridiculousness. Defined abdominal muscles could be seen through the white cotton tee the other was wearing, his biceps and triceps bulging and flexing every time he so much as twitched. 'And his skin,' Harry thought, drinking in the rich brown complexion of the other like it was a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He looked like a werewolf-ized version of Blaise Zabini.
If Harry's mind wasn't so set on Edward and being his bestest friend in the whole wide world, he might have considered jumping Jacob and not thinking twice about it. 'That boy is going to make someone happy someday, and God bless the poor soul, whomever it may be.' Harry thought, a smile reaching his features.
"Ah, Remus, welcome back!" Albus greeted, hugging the older werewolf as if he hadn't seen him in ages. "And you must be the wonderful Jacob Black that I've heard so much about!" Dumbledore was all but glowing as he spoke to the Quileute.
"Yup, that's me, the good ol' wolf that I am." He joked, eyes wandering curiously towards the chaos of ingredients and potions in the kitchen. Albus smiled knowingly before turning around, preparing to introduce the guest to Harry, who up until this point was being a loner in the corner. Jacob caught sight of the wizard once Dumbledore moved and smiled.
"Jacob, this is Harry, the young trouble maker you've been assigned to protect during the events of today." Albus stated, eyes twinkling like sinful diamonds. Jacob walked across the room, an almost dominant swagger evident in his step, reaching out his hand for Harry to shake.
"Nice to meet you man, I'm Jacob, but you can call me Jake." The werewolf smiled genially as Harry accepted the proffered hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Harry responded automatically, the words a result of political meetings and social events that called for manners. He smirked to himself, hardly thinking of Jacob as an outstanding politician or aristocrat. Harry glanced at the clock hopefully, wishing that time had skipped forward past the meeting. It was 12:35. His soul died a little as Albus ushered them upstairs to the study to prepare for the arrival of the Malfoy family.
I can't believe,
how you slurred at me,
with your half-wired broken jaw.
"Draco, please!" Mrs. Malfoy pleaded as her son tried to swat away the hands that were desperately trying to comb his platinum hair into place. "I will not have you looking like a ruffian!" She commanded, pinching her sons ear to get him to stop moving.
"I'm old enough to wear my hair as I please, Mother." The refined tone that he used made his mother glare even harder than she was already. She hated when he acted more like her business partner than her son, like they had some contract that he was abiding by rather than the laws of nature.
"Be still and let your mother do as she wishes." Lucius Malfoy commented from his desk, sorting through papers that he needed to finish before their departure for America.
Draco huffed, not at the command, but at how lax his Father had become in punishment. Only a year ago if he had shown insolence, or refused to conform to grooming standards or some such Pureblood regulation the consequences would have at least been a little more than a simple 'Listen to your Mother.' His Father had become soft around the edges, the War and Azkaban making him see life through different eyes. This bothered Draco, made him squirm with agitation. The more his Father veered from his old personality, the more they looked like a failing Pureblood Family, the more dignity they lost.
He scoffed as his mother smoothed down his fringe for the third time, sculpting his locks into the shape she wanted. It was almost time for them to leave, and Narcissa wanted her family looking perfect for when they saw her cousin Sirius. She didn't want him to think that she was any less of a Black than she truly was, didn't want him to see her at such a low point in her life. A stint in Azkaban, a struggling marriage, a tarnished name. She didn't want him paying any attention to the blemishes.
Draco moved away from his mother as she finally finished primping the blonde to her satisfaction. He looked towards his Father who still immersed in his paperwork. He sighed again, wanting nothing more than to leave for the meeting that would seal his future in America. He didn't care about the information Lucius wished to relay to Potter or his dysfunctional family.
The Malfoy Heir caught his thoughts, reprimanding himself for being immature. He needed to learn to tolerate the ridiculous Gryffindor's and their wrinkly caretaker Dumblefore. They would undoubtedly be playing a pivotal role in his living in America and taking part in the project they were working on. He stroked his forearm thoughtfully, the dark colored tattoo underneath creating a shadow on his white button down shirt. He hated Harry Potter and his fame and fortune, he despised his brashness, his idiocy. Yet, Draco coveted him, his intelligence and his ability to adapt.
"When are we leaving?" Draco pressed, his eye once again wandering over to his Father's perch behind the oak desk.
"Soon, Draco." Lucius drawled, giving his paperwork another cursory glace as he finished sorting the documents. "I must warn you of the creatures inhabiting the area you wish to live in." He informed, turning to face both his wife and son. Draco remained unfeeling, covering every inch of his face with a carefully composed mask.
His father smirked slightly before continuing, "Albus has informed me of the precautions they've taken for this meeting. Harry is being guarded, currently, by a shape shifter from a tribe in La Push." Lucius didn't miss the characteristic sniff Draco let out at the mention of shape shifters, undoubtedly underestimating the ability of the aforementioned creature. "They are not to be taken lightly Draco," Lucius warned, eyes steely with aggravation. His son nodded in response, but didn't appear to have heeded his father's words.
"There are also vampires, a coven of them, if I have been informed correctly, living in Forks and attending the school there." Lucius continued, leveling Draco and his wife with a particularly heavy gaze. Draco allowed his expression to fall a little, feeling discomforted by this new information.
He has assumed there would be magical creatures in America, knowing that Britain wasn't the only place with such beasts, but he hadn't anticipated vampires. He didn't like vampires very much, not many wizards did. They were superior to them in that they had physical abilities that a human would be hard pressed to rival, and some were even gifted with special talents. They were highly intelligent and could master any skill they wished. There had even been one from millennium ago that had been able to cast some magic. So naturally, Wizards sometimes disliked them a tad more than they should. Especially pure bloods, who took pride in their beauty, grace and power attained through years of selective breeding. Vampires were like a slap in their face, possessing all of those things without having any significant blood status.
"Interesting, may we leave now?" Draco half sneered, appearing to have disregarded the information he'd been gifted with. Lucius glared at his son before nodding, striding over to the other side of the room. He moved a book from off the end table, retrieving the pendant underneath it. He glided over to his family, extending his hand toward them, offering the object. They all placed their hands on it without any other indication, as Lucius muttered, "Cringle." They were transported away into a room full of over eager wizards and two wary werewolves.
1:00, in Harry's opinion, was the most annoying hour of the day, and should be completely omitted from time measurement.
He leaned against the desk in Albus's office in anguish, his frame tense with anticipation as he waited for the Malfoy family to arrive. Harry stole a glace at Jacob who was placed diagonal to the door, two feet from the desk the Gryffindor was currently positioned against. He sighed, staring out the window pensively. He really didn't want to do this, to endure this meeting. He was tired, drained, worn out from the week of working with Albus and school he was forced to partake in. He gazed at the clouds that were slowly changing a dirty purple as the day progressed on, second after second the air outside becoming hazier with the cloying scent of an impending storm.
He wanted to be outside, reading, being in the comforting confines of literature and the scents of nature. Not in an office that wreaked of incense and magic, waiting for the arrival of his old enemies, of the onslaught of emotions that would force him into facing his past. He didn't want it, didn't need it. The swelling of magic that began to form in the center of the room alerted the occupants of the arrival of their guests.
The air crackled for a moment before a large, looming figure materialized, followed by two others. Harry watched in disdain as Draco Malfoy steadied himself for a second on a nearby chair. He saw Narcissa sweep her gaze around the room expectantly, obviously scanning for her long lost cousin. Not a hair was out of place on her head, not a wrinkle in her robes. Not one sign of imperfection was seen on her or her son as they stood tensely in the center of the room. Lucius Malfoy, was another story all together. He still held that superior air and imposing presence, but it was softened by the wrinkles taking form on his otherwise infallible aristocratic features.
"Lucius, it's good to see you." Albus began, speaking in the clipped tones he often used for troublemakers at Hogwarts, dealing out punishment for rule-breakers. "Sirius, if you could please escort Mrs. Malfoy and young Draco downstairs, there is some tea waiting for them, as I'm sure you and she have some catching up to do." Draco glared at the weathered man, obviously not satisfied with having been dismissed to simply.
Harry had to refrain from hexing him, wanting nothing more than to put him in his place, but reminded himself that he had to be careful. He was dancing a dangerous tango at the moment, and one false step would have the performance come crumbling downward.
Narcissa looped her arm with Sirius', a simple pure blood gesture, and made her way out of the room with all the elegance and grace a person can humanly possess. Harry wasn't impressed, he had seen grace and it wasn't the Malfoy's. It was the Cullens. Draco soon followed his mother, after leveling everyone in the room with what Harry assumed was supposed to be a "glare" but it only translated over as something near a pout. It irked Harry even further when the Malfoy Heir disregarded Jacob and Remus completely, his only acknowledgment of the two being the sneer he threw their way. And to think Harry actually believed the war could have really changed his school rival's temperament.
"I know that this meeting isn't being held on good terms," Mr. Malfoy began after the door had clicked shut and wards had been instated. "Both parties considered." He looked at Harry pointedly, conveying the notion that he would not tolerate any nonsense. Harry almost chuckled.
"We understand, Lucius." Dumbledore replied, settling himself into the large wing-backed chair behind his desk. The deep purple folds of his robes bunched together around him comically. "Harry only wishes for this to be over and done with in as little time as possible." The aged man stated.
Harry rubbed his face, leaning more heavily against the desk. He felt Albus' comforting magic and let it soothe his aching nerves. 'And so the dance begins,' Harry thought with a mental sneer. This really wasn't bringing out the sunshine in him.
"Then it seems Mr. Potter and I share the same sentiments," The figurehead of the Malfoys drawled, his lips pursing slightly. "Nevertheless, I implore you to consider what I've come to say." Lucius sat down carefully in the chair facing away from the door.
"If we didn't want to hear what you had to say, we wouldn't have agreed to meet with you." Harry hissed, uncaring of how he sounded at the moment. Lucius looked at him coldly, the hate evident in both Harry and Mr. Malfoy's eyes.
"Ever the tactless brat, Mr. Potter." Lucius bit back, smirking. "It's good to see some things haven't changed."
"You don't deserve my tact or my wit, say what you came to say and then be gone." Harry didn't care if he was coming across as selfish, or a spoiled brat. He wanted this Ex-DeathEater and his loathsome son out of his home and presence.
"Fair enough," Lucius said, no anger evident on his mask from Harry's comment, "I received a letter from a rather feral looking owl a few weeks ago." Lucius explained. The Pure blood ran a manicured hand through his sleep platinum hair, obviously distressed by whatever he was going to tell them. Harry watched as the man braced himself, picked the best wording for his next statement.
"It was from Bellatrix Lestrange." Five simple words, and they had Harry reeling with more anger than he'd thought humanly possible. Lucius had known Harry would have this reaction, that was why he had thought about it so much. Harry gripped the edge of the desk in a useless attempt to keep his emotions at bay.
"Excuse me?" Were the only words the Wizarding Worlds Savior managed to breathe out before Remus decided to take charge of the situation.
"Are you sure of this? It wasn't from someone else merely wishing to frighten you, or incite some sort of reaction? The werewolf asked critically, his amber eyes flashing in the dim lighting.
"It was from her, her magical signature was on it," Lucius confirmed, his eyes stormy and unforgiving. "And I compared the handwriting to cards and other such artifacts that might have her delirious scrawl on them." He finished.
Albus let out a soft sigh, his hands forming a steeple on top of his desk. "It is good that you've come to us with this Lucius," The elder hummed, looking far older than he usually did. "What did the letter say?"
"Not much," Lucius began, looking far more perplexed than he had before. "It babbled on about nonsense, my family and I being traitors, how we would be 'judged' in good time." Lucius explained.
"Nothing unusual from her normal psychotic babble." Remus interjected. "Not that I don't underestimate the witch under the mental state. When she is lucid, she is lethal."
Lucius nodded in Lupin's direction before continuing, "It went on like that for a while, her ranting a raving, and then she said something strange. She said that I could "repent for my traitorous ways, if I agreed to help her and the other renegades with their plan." I thought it was just more psychobabble until I read more." Lucius' face lost a shade of color after these words.
"It's obvious that she is more unstable now than ever before, if she truly thought she could trust me with the information she divulged." There was no hint of emotion in his voice, nothing that could give any indication of to the nature of the news to come.
"What is this 'plan' that they have constructed?" Remus asked, curiosity getting the better of him for a moment.
"They have found necromancers in favor of their cause, of the Dark Lord's cause." Lucius didn't speak of the regime as if it were dead, but more like in dormancy. Harry felt a shiver run tracks up and down his spine. "They're going to try and resurrect-" He stopped for a moment to swallow, "They're going to try to resurrect the Dark Lord and restore him back to power." He bit out, pained to say the words.
All the blood in Harry's body went cold, his limbs rigid. He gripped the desk harder than before, feeling frightened. He caught himself, he couldn't be afraid. That was what they wanted, they wanted the little bitty baby Potter to cower in fear at the prospect of their great and divine lord coming back. He couldn't be afraid of that, he'd go insane. He didn't underestimate it though, he knew Bellatrix, how fanatical she was. She'd dedicate even her dying breath to the Dark Lord. And he was sure she wasn't the only one, many of the Death Eaters hadn't been captured yet, still pathetically living in hiding.
"There is more," Lucius said softy from his chair, looking pityingly at Harry. The other scowled at that, he didn't need some washed up politicians sympathy. "The Necromancer in charge of the operation is a force to be reckoned with." Lucius shot a look to Albus that spoke volumes.
"You're not serious, that is impossible!" Albus blustered, looking thoroughly surprised at the concept. "It cannot be him! The last that was heard of him he was in Antartica in-"
"Dormancy, yes." Lucius interjected, looking down-trodden. Harry was surprised the man was even still alive, with all that he had to endure. "The other. . .lesser experts in the subject were able to awaken him." Harry felt left out of the loop when he caught sight of the realization dawning on both Albus and Remus. He growled under his breath to himself, not at all surprised.
"Who are you talking about? Why was he 'dormant'?" Harry asked, emerald eyes alight with some unnameable emotion. He wished Edward was here so he could know what everyone was thinking.
"Dante Wayne Proctor the III." Albus stated gravely. "The greatest necromancer of several different decades, millennium even." The former Headmaster conjured a bowl of gummy worms wordlessly and popped one into his mouth. Harry knew suddenly the implications his statement made.
"We'll have to tell the Cullens." Was Harry's only statement. He didn't want to even think of what this man was capable of, what he could do, being both a Necromancer and vampire. He shivered again, looking out the window in time to see the first droplet of rain smash against the window pane.
"I believe fully in the capability he possesses to restore the Dark Lord, and I fear for many lives if said event does occur." Lucius stated, straightening his back to his full height. "But this is not the only thing I've come here to discuss."
"Oh?" Albus said, inserting a tone of surprise into his words, even though Harry knew the ancient Wizard wasn't surprised in the least. The Gryffindor sometimes wondered if Dumbledore was omnipotent with the way he uncannily knew everything. "Concerning Draco, I'm assuming?"
"You've assumed correctly." Lucius didn't look happy about the other knowing his own words before he did. "He has been pestering me about this for some time, and I have taken it into consideration and have seen the points he has made to me." Lucius managed, not looking abashed at having to do his son's bidding for him. "He wishes to be transferred from his current ministry position as my consultant, to the task force heading the operations here, in America." The words were spoken with such calm Harry had to wonder if they'd been rehearsed.
Nobody said a word as the statement was digested. Albus made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, a sort of soft clicking noise he often made when in deep consideration of something. Remus nodded his head slightly a few times, mentally weighing to pros and cons, considering each possible avenue. Harry just sat there and watched everyone, almost bored with the entire debacle. He wanted to go out and search for Death Eaters! Plan ways to stop and capture this Dante character, not debate over where to place Draco Malfoy!
"Let him." Harry blurted, not realizing his words as he was caught up in the heat of his thoughts. "If he wants to help, let him." Let him prove his worth.
Albus nodded, "So be it, I shall owl you tomorrow with the arrangements. You can speak to the Minister meanwhile to make sure everything is in order." Lucius nodded, and with a swoop of finality, strode from the room and down the stairs to collect the rest of his family.
And after he's through,
there's gonna' be no love left to ride.
The cafeteria was bustling with the crowds of students as usual, the cacophony of laughter and voices creating a relaxing form of chaos. Harry put an apple and a banana on his tray, shuffling along through the lunch line with a sort of artificial calm. Edward trailed behind silently, simply observing the young wizard in his environment.
"You should sit with us today!" Alice chirped happily from Harry's side. She carried a tray composed of the same exact items as her siblings, identical.
"Perhaps." Harry muttered, his eyes trained to the front of the line and away from the vampires. Edward sighed softy as he watched the other. Harry had been like this since the meeting, had this sort of strange uncomfortable air of calm about him, like he was readying himself to step into the heat of battle.
He refused to discuss what had transpired between himself and Mr. Malfoy, wouldn't even give the smallest hint as to what was said. His thoughts were even clean of even the most miniscule trace of the events. Edward wondered what could have happened to possibly make the other act like this, so out of character. Carlisle was even remaining tight lipped despite the fact that Albus had extended the invitation for their adoptive father to relay the information. Whatever had been said was really eating at the parties involved.
Edward walked steadily behind Harry as he made his way towards the Cullen table, chatting idly with Alice as they went. Edward sat down, and thought finally, that he'd ask Harry about everything tonight and try and coax whatever it was out of the younger. Whatever it was was obviously causing the other some sort of distress and he wanted to remedy that.
"Hi Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie." Harry greeted softy, giving a little wave to the other occupants of the table. The young wizard was seated in between Alice and Edward. Edward listened to the mental comments the people in the lunchroom were making thoughtfully. "You know, it might be a good idea for you to actually make it look like you're eating." Harry said, looking at Edward from beneath his eyelashes. The other let a smile quirk his lips slightly.
"Think people will become suspicious? I doubt anyone would be able to come to the correct conclusion." Edward smirked, sounding confident that he was correct.
"I did." Harry stated simply, taking a small bite out of his apple, the juice slicking his lips making them pinker than usual. "Though I have several years of magical creature study under my belt." Harry pointed out. Edward smiled at the small break Harry was having in the bubble of calm he'd seemingly created for himself. Edward shifted a little in his seat so he could look at Harry more comfortably.
"What did you learn in school? At-" Edward paused, searching for the name in his mind, "Hogwarts?" He queried, eyes lit with curiosity.
"History of Magic, Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and such." Harry explained bemusedly, putting barely any thought into the answer.
"Care of Magical Creatures?" Edward questioned, chuckling softly. "Suppose you didn't learn how to take care of vampires?" He caught the light blush that crept onto the others cheeks and neck and smiled. 'Too cute.' He thought.
Jasper's face scrunched up in pain as Harry blushed, becoming uncomfortable from the smell. "Edward, make your boyfriend blush on your own time, when I'm not in the immediate area." He snapped playfully.
"Clever Jasper, I'm impressed with your ability to use the word 'boyfriend' as in insult." Harry smiled, his teeth showing a little. He took another bite from his apple before setting it down on his tray, finished. Emmett grabbed the tray and brought it over to the trashcan and the stack of dirty ones along with his.
"Thanks Emmett." Harry said, nodding his head at the bear of a vampire in thanks.
"No problem, squirt." Emmett grinned. Harry didn't have the energy or the will to say anything back, so he stood, looking to Edward to follow before leaving for Bio. Edward trailed behind.
Could we fix you if you broke?
And is your punchline just a joke?
Oh, boy you've left me speechless.
"Hmm, this is my favorite episode." Harry commented as he changed the channel to Criminal Minds, delight dancing across his features like the flickering of a candle flame. "Agent Hotchner is absolutely perfect." Harry watched as Reid interviewed an unsub, a smile on his face.
"I prefer Dr. Reid." Edward said, perched on the windowsill, looking like perfection as the moonlight cascaded across his form.
"Of course you would." Harry teased, sticking his tongue out at the vampire. He leaned his head back against the headboard, staring at the television through half lidded eyes. "If you two had children they'd be super babies, hybrids, perfect. The master race." Harry thought aloud.
"Who says I plan on having children? And with Spencer Reid at that?" Edward asked, amber eyes pooling with humor and mischief.
"Nobody is saying that, I was just thinking aloud. You'd have super genius children that would be attractive to the point of insanity. You should consider looking him up, arranging a date." Harry looked over and winked at Edward playfully. Said vampire lowered himself down from his position on the windowsill and glided over to the bed, sitting down elegantly. Now that he had diffused Harry's eerie calm trance for a few moments, he figured now would be the best time to question the other about what had happened.
"Harry?" Edward asked quietly, trying to be as delicate as possible. He and Harry were close and had a basic sense of trust between each other, but Edward wasn't sure the boundaries of that trust just yet. He didn't want to pressure Harry into admitting something he wasn't ready to express and cause an awkward situation. Or worse, anger the other and spark an argument or fight.
"Hmmm?" Was the others simple reply, his eyes locked onto the TV screen.
"Are you okay?" he asked, hand reaching out to rest on the others knee lightly. He saw Harry's eyes look over at Edward briefly, as if considering him and his question, before returning his attention to Criminal Minds.
"I'm fine," He muttered. Lie.
"You haven't been acting the same since the meeting with the Malfoys, and I'm worried-"
"Don't be!" Harry spat. "I don't want you to worry about me." Lie.
"Really? Harry you can't fool me, you forget how easily I can see if what you're telling is the truth. I've had years to master the art of perception, body language, all of it." Edward ground out, reaching up and gripping Harry's chin, forcing the other to look at him. "Tell me what's wrong, stop letting it eat you up, because soon there won't be anything left!" Edward hissed.
"Fine!" Harry roared, shooting up from his spot on the bed. "If you just have to know, Edward." He spat out the others name as he stalked to the other side of the bed, standing by the open window.
"I do, I need to know, so I can help you." The vampire reasoned, watching as Harry's face scrunched up in defiant anger.
"Look inside my head then! Look at my memories, you'll find all the answers you'll need there!" Harry yelled, glaring at Edward.
"No," Edward remained calm, he had to. He couldn't be angry at Harry, he could never be. He knew that the teenager had been through terrible things, had witnesses atrocities. He didn't need to see memories to know that, he could see it from the way he carried himself, how his eyes were haunted from time to time. That was why he couldn't be angry at the beautiful creature reeling in anger before him. "I want you to tell me, I don't need your life, or the war, just what happened that's been making you act differently."
Harry breathed deeply, soaking in the sound of Edward's relaxed and musical voice. He calmed down a fraction at the sound, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. He reprimanded himself over and over again internally for getting so angry. He had been keeping all the anger and frustration that he'd felt at the meeting pent up inside, and now it was clawing it's way out.
"I- I'm, fuck, I'm sorry." Harry cursed, rubbing his face with his hands. "I shouldn't have yelled like that." He stated simply, sitting down on the bed next to Edward.
"I understand." Edward said, pushing a strand of Harry's hair out of his face tenderly.
"You always do." Harry muttered, the remnants of a smile creeping over his lips. "No matter what I say, or do, you always understand." Harry said it as if he was almost annoyed by it.
"That bothers you?" Edward laughed, his sharp incisors gleaming like newly polished diamonds in the darkness.
"Only sometimes," Harry explained, looking into slightly darker than usual amber eyes. "Sometimes, I wish you wouldn't understand, so you'd at least seem more human." He chuckled at his selfishness, and his foolishness. He was acting like such a baby lately.
"Hmmm, I'll take that into consideration." Edward replied. "Now, let's talk about the meeting." Harry nodded, starting with what he knew the best: his emotions.
"I hated every second of it, I wanted nothing more than to be out in the middle of the woods somewhere reading." Edward chuckled but urged him to continue. "I know you don't know much about the war that I was involved in, but, there was a Dark Lord and there was a prophecy saying that one of us had to kill the other in order to survive." Harry rubbed at his scar absentmindedly.
"Dark Lord? What does being that entail?" Edward questioned curiously as he drew little designs onto the palm of Harry's hand with his finger, listening intently.
"It means he was bloody well the most powerful wizard to have lived, other then Dumbledore, or course." Harry shivered, from the combonation of Edward's featherlight touches and his thinking of Voldemort. "It also meant he was the cruelest, darkest, as evil as someone could possibly be. That was him. Wanted to kill all muggles, non-magic folk."
"And I thought the Volturi were bad." Edward muttered. Harry looked at him so seriously, like there was no happiness left in the world, and he realized how real all of this was for the other. He had fought this monster, this Dark Lord, and it hurt him. It was emotionally killing him to think of it, recall the events.
"No, he's much worse than anything the Volturi could hope to be. He actually allied himself with the Volturi at one point, probably not willingly though." Edward quirked an eyebrow at this. "He thought dark creatures, like vampires, were beneath him. Unworthy."
"So you killed him?" Edward asked, amazed that someone as delicate and beautiful as Harry had assassinated a Dark Lord who probably drank kittens blood in his free time and got off to Wrong Turn.
"I did. I killed him, and many of his followers, the Death Eaters." Harry looked off into the distance, eyes unblinking. "Lucius Malfoy was an Ex- Death Eater. He came and met with us, to inform my family and me of a letter he received from a present Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange." Edward listened, enraptured by this secret world Harry was telling him of, even it wasn't of pleasant things.
"Bellatrix is Sirius' cousin, well estranged cousin to be more accurate. She lives, breathes and sleeps anything of or relating to the Dark Lord. One of his most dedicated followers."
"So I guess it's bad news to hear she's sent a letter to Malfoy?" Edward asked. Harry nodded solemnly before continuing.
"Her and other renegades had aligned themselves with a Necromancer who is willing to resurrect the Dark Lord and restore him to power." Harry bowed his head, his eyes shutting despairingly. Edward placed his hand under the others chin, lifting his head to look him in the eye.
"It's alright to be afraid sometimes, Harry." Edward soothed, getting lost in the emotional emerald green pools that were the Boy-Who-Lived's eyes. "Nobody expects you to fight him again." Edward reassured.
"Edward you don't understand!" Harry pleaded, his eyes full of years of pain. "I'm the one person he wants to kill most, I ruined everything for him! I am his obsession, his one ultimate goal. My death will be the only thing to quench his thirst for revenge." Harry's hands shook as he spoke, and for a moment he thought he'd actually cry. He didn't. "I'll protect you, our families will protect you." Edward was sincere, Harry knew it. He knew that Edward wasn't going to let someone kill Harry without a fight. But the truth was, Harry knew that Edward didn't stand a chance against Voldemort if he was restored to his full power.
"Your family will have it's own worries soon enough," Harry spoke. Edward looked at him curiously, urging him to explain. "The Necromancer the Death Eaters have asked to help them with their plans was Dante Wayne Proctor the III." Edward's eyes widened a fraction, his body going still as stone.
"The Volturi won't allow him to stay active for long, he's too much of a threat. Aro won't allow it."
"He currently has many of Voldemort's elite at his disposal. Highly trained and trusted Death Eaters that he can use to protect him from Aro." Harry reasoned.
"I-I-" Edward muttered, stumbling to find the right words. "This isn't good." He finally blurted out.
"Hah! You don't think I knew that already?" Harry said laughingly. He look tired, frustrated, drained, no hope or fight left in him to endure another War. "I'm going to die this time, Edward."
"Don't you dare say that!" Edward growled, grabbing Harry's hands with his, holding the appendages delicately, as if at any moment they'd shatter. Harry looked in the other direction, away from Edward and all of his magnificent grade and beauty. Away from his hope, from his rationality and kind words. Harry didn't want reassurance, he didn't want to be told that everything would 'be okay.' Because it wouldn't, it couldn't.
"Harry, look at me." Edward commanded, his tone firm. Harry ignored him expertly. "Harry, please, look at me." Edward said with a little more force this time. Harry sighed, looking in the others direction. "I will stand by you for the rest of eternity, if it means you'll be safe." Edward leaned in and pressed his ice cold lips to Harry's forehead.
Would you give it all up,
could you give it all up,
if I promise, boy to you?
That' I'll never talk again,
and I'll never love again.
I'll never write a song,
won't even sing along.
I'll never love again, so speechless.
"You'll defeat him, you'll win again, I know it." Edward whispered against the skin of the wizard's brow, enjoying the warm contrast his skin provided.
"And so what if I do? What then? I'll continue living as I did before, with even more horrid memories to plague my mine with?" Harry spat, hating Fate and her treacherous plan for him. "A mans emotional life isn't linear, one even doesn't give them closure." He whispered, enjoying the feel of Edward's lips resting on his skin.
"There is plenty of time for that, for closure." Edward assuaged. He pulled away from Harry, moving another strand of hair away and out of his piercing green eyes. "I'll help you, everyone will. You'll never be alone, even if you move to the most desolate place on Earth. One of us will always find you."
"Well there goes my plans of becoming a hermit." Harry stated dryly. Edward chuckled, the sound so pleasant and comforting, like dead leaves crunching on the sidewalk in the Fall, like incense and candles burning in a dark room. Harry sighed and rolled over, pulling back the blankets on his bed.
"I need sleep, you can stay here and sit by the bed if you want, or you can leave. Up to you." Harry took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table, turned the TV off before pulling his blankets up and around himself. He felt Edward moving around in the room, and knew the other was kneeling by the bed facing him. He felt a cool hand cup his cheek soothingly before a light kiss was placed on his cheek.
"Goodnight, my little raven." And then he was gone, and Harry was left with his dreams.
You left me speechless, so speechless.
Will you ever talk again,
oh boy why you so speechless?
You've left me speechless, so speechless.
Some men they follow me,
but you choose death and company,
why you so speechless, oh oh?