Disclaimer: No money is being made from this. Harry Potter and Twilight belongs to Rowling and Meyer respectively.

Warning: slash CC/HP, rated T may contain suggestive themes and infrequent use of strong language

A/N: All right, I'm trying this story out. See how it works for me. I enjoyed writing it and have a feeling we're going a long way with this.

Chapter 1

Harry took in a breath when he felt his head clear up. Being a regular hospital quest, he knew to keep his eyes closed to block out the blazing light – it was a lesson well learned. A rustling sound was heard near him. He rolled his head to the side before taking the risk and opened his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" The man's voice was quiet and comforting; Harry had to pause his thoughts to process what the was actually being said. Even before he achieved that, the man continued in his soft tone, "You were underwater for a while there. Good thing we received you in time. Any pains?"

Harry blinked. "Feels like I'm lagging. Is that normal?"

The doctor was inspecting his heart monitor, but his eyes shifted to Harry before he replied, "It's perfectly fine. We had to sedate you when you resisted treatment, but you're out of the danger zone now – stay here tonight. We're monitoring you for delayed respiratory problems."

Harry nodded, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes. One point to his self-perseverance for nagging him the whole time that sailing in Forks was an impetuous idea. . . even though his guts told him he'd never get a chance again if he didn't take it.

"What was I thinking? Should have known it was going to rain."

"Yes, it's very predictable here. It is a comfort to some, knowing what to expect."

"Must be hard for outdoor planning."

"You learn to plan around it." The doctor flashed him a smile before checking . . . whatever doctors check. Harry was no expert on the medical stuff, and he didn't pretend to be. He'd rather leave it to the professionals. "It's about seven in the afternoon. Are you hungry? I can get you something."

Harry shook his head.

"I hope you don't mind," the doctor continued. Harry's attention never wavered from him. "The staff went through the clothes you had on. Of course, it's in pieces right now – we had to get them off you in a hurry, but we saved everything for you." He smiled again. "If there's anyone you want to contact, let me know."

Harry adjusted his position on the bed to seek the maximum warmth. The doctor's voice soothed him – Harry figured that was why he kept on the conversation. Harry must look shaken up to him. The talking grounded him to reality and not thinking about what could've happened if no one had seen him struggling in the water, PFD no where near him. "Thank you. I'm on vacation right now, so no need to worry anyone and cut it short."

"All right then. Someone will come to check on you throughout the night. Is there anything I can do before I leave?"

A shameless grin spread across his face; although that took some effort. His face felt like it was glued into fixed position. "Yeah, can you fluff my pillow? I don't think I can move my fingers without using a candy bar's worth of energy – you look like someone who has experience with pillow fluffing."

The doctor chuckled, and Harry raised his head when he reached for the pillow, careful not to disturb Harry's head. Harry finally had a chance to glance at his name tag that had been too far for him to see earlier.

"Thanks." Harry said as the pillow was returned, and he got in a more comfortable position. His limbs felt like he's been torturing them for a minute too long and now sprawled uselessly on the bed.

Dr. Cullen paused at the light switch near the door and reached to dim the glaring light.

Harry immediately said, "No, um, it's fine like this. I don't mind the light."

"You'll sleep better if I dim it a little," Dr. Cullen replied but his hand was already lowering back to his side when he caught Harry's dismay.

"Please, it's fine," Harry repeated. He was aware of the image he was portraying but couldn't bring himself to bother. Not that he had a problem with the dark . . . just what would appear in it. And, like he said, he was on vacation. His job followed him everywhere – especially in a hospital.

Alone in his small gloomy confinement, Harry closed his eyes and dozed off. The next time Harry woke was to a movement near his bed. He cracked his eyes open a bit to see a nurse monitoring his status. She didn't stay long. He was hazily aware she dimmed the light before leaving – he wished she hadn't done that.

Harry could see incorporeal beings. Not entirely like wizards imprinting upon the earth, like Hogwarts's resident ghosts, but instead humans that stayed behind for some reason. In spite of how disturbing that seem, it was pretty neat to experience a different aspect of life – although through the dead's perspective. He loved his profession and their joy of being released from the world brings him happiness. The occasional surprise shower visits were times he wouldn't miss. The way they stare at him and lick their lips, like they wouldn't mind possessing him – he wouldn't miss that either. But in any event, he considered himself familiar with his job.

When he opened his eyes, he didn't have it in him to act startled anymore. She was a pretty girl – a real sunshine on a sunny day once upon a time. Although he could hardly tell with her black disheveled hair cascading down her face, blocking half her cheeks. Her eyes rested intently on his face that added to the crept out feeling Harry was forming. As she sat near the edge of his bed, making no dents and casting no shadows on the wall, he sensed she held no malevolent intention toward him – which was always good considering she was within neck-wringing distance.

By this time, Harry achieved a higher level of consciousness. He could disregard her, pretend he had no clue she was sitting so very near him. Harry figured she would just dissolve, and that would be it. He wouldn't have to deal with the awkward battle of trying not to glance at her when she growled at him. He heard hospital ghosts could get hostile fast – he'd wasn't certified to handle it yet.

When the door sudden creaked, Harry almost jumped out of his skin but also relieved when he felt his skin tingled, signifying the departure of his temporary visitor.

"Hey, doc." Harry sat up and leaned against his pillow when he recognized the person that came through the door.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" Dr. Cullen strolled toward him, a file in hand. He glanced at Harry's IV, check his temperature, took his pulse – the usual routine.

"I promise you I feel better inside than I probably look right now."

Dr. Cullen cracked a smile – perplexing Harry with its dissemblance from the deferential hospital smile that usually meant something like, "I'm doing my job and it's a requirement that I must see your face while doing it. Though it's too much trouble to talk with you – seeing that you'll be cursing me out after I tell you the bad news anyway. So I'm just going to smile and hope that you are reassured by it." Dr. Cullen's smile was genuine.

"Can I use the bathroom?" He already had one leg out of the bed and ready to push himself off when he was granted a nod. He dragged his IV stand with him.

Dr. Cullen was about to leave as well. He allowed Harry to walk ahead of him, an arm lingering near his back to catch him if necessary.

Harry slowly walked to the bathroom and elbowed the ajar door farther and abruptly stopped when he caught a scene near the sink. It was a hologram-like scenario featuring a girl – suspiciously like the one on his bed a while ago – falling on the floor, blood pooling around her, and shaking uncontrollably. His breath caught in his throat from sheer surprise.

"What's wrong?" Harry almost lost his breath again when he felt Dr. Cullen's hand rested on his arm. To his defense, he just recovered from an accident. Give him a break if he startled easily right then. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Nothing." Harry chuckled weakly, turning back to the bathroom to see perfectly clean room. "I'm. . . just stunned, really! What a gorgeous bathroom. Of course, it's a hospital so you really don't expect this kind of thing. . . I'm just going to go inside now."

He closed the door behind him with Dr. Cullen's face still in doubt but leaving the hospital room nonetheless. The immediate goal was to take care of business and get out before the girl show up again. If he could prevent her from cornering him while his pants were still riding his ankles, then all would be good.

While washing his hands, he took note of his worn out face and wondered if sleep would take care of it. Once he got back to his hotel, it would be hitting the sack for him.

"Why are you hiding from me?"

Harry finished washing his hands, not glancing back to the speaker. There was no need, seeing that he knew who was behind him even if the mirror said otherwise.

"You're ignoring me too! I don't think I've ever met anyone so rude as you." He could just imagine her putting her hands on her hips in a bossy manner.

Harry snorted quietly. He couldn't help but comment. "You haven't seen rude yet, sweetheart. Not until you can't take a piss without being peeped on."

She lifted to sit on the small counter when Harry made no move to run from her. "If you hadn't pretend to ignore me, I wouldn't have to resort to such underhanded means."

"Yes, because waiting five more seconds for me to get out of the bathroom was too painful for you."

"Thank you! You do understand." She rolled her eyes. "So can you help me?"

"On vacation right now. Come see me in a few months." After turning the water off, Harry dried his hands on the towel, ran his fingers through his hair, and grinned at her determined face.

He went back to the main room. She followed him. He said, "Just an FYI, you don't start broadcasting your last minutes of life until we've at least exchanged names. That's common etiquette. I'll forgive you this time since you're a newbie ghost. But keep it in mind for future victims of this room."

She was still scowling at him. "How do you know I'm new?"

"I can tell. You're sending out some pretty obvious vibes."

"I do?"

"Naw, I'm just messin' with ya."

He dropped on the bed and draped an arm over his eyes. Dr. Cullen promised he'd be back soon to give him an okay to check out.

"I miss her," she started. When Harry looked at her, she continued softly, "My grandmother. She was the only person in my life who cared. When she passed away, I realized what having my world crashed feel like – the only thing I had left of her was a hair clip. I know it's silly. She gave it to me; I remember she was fond of them. . ."

She trailed off, but Harry already had an idea of the rest of the story. He was just about to tell her he couldn't break into her place to get it for her, knowing it was a disaster waiting to happen, when she suddenly pointed to a drawer. "It's in there."

Harry didn't ask, but he could see how important this was for her, enough to remain behind for. He reached over and pulled the drawer out and was greeted with a bow shaped hair clip made entirely out of gleaming Swarovski crystal.

Her eyes glowed when he held it out to her but suddenly saddened a little. "I can't touch it though"

"That's why I'm here." He scooted closer to her, making his intention clear with his gesture to her hair. "May I?"

Upon receiving permission, he tucked a lock of hair behind her eyes and carefully clipped the other side. It was a tender moment; he should really think of something clever. "Your grandma knew – she knew you'd look beautiful with it. Tell her I agree completely."

Harry patted her shoulder. She needn't say a word; her eyes expressed her gratitude as she faded from his sight. They always left before he got a chance to ask whether "the light" really existed.

Later in the day, he passed Dr. Cullen on his way out the hospital. They only had time to acknowledge each other on account that he looked to be rushing someplace. Harry had no inclination to hold him back if it kept more people alive. What was mind-boggling, Harry noted, was Dr. Cullen's eyes. He pride himself on his ability to distinguish red from blue, but he swore they were a darker amber then than they had been last evening – which made him consider why he even noticed at all.

There were more important things, like figuring out how to get to his hotel. And change out of these borrowed clothes – he smelled like old medicine.

Let me know what you think. :D Comments, thoughts, concerns. It's a different take on this crossover and probably a weird one at that.