Disclaimer: Twilight does not belong to me. Harry Potter does not belong to me. Copyright infringement is not intended.

A/N: Oleander is shortened to Lee sometimes. I know the Hayabusa GSX1300R came out in 2007; it's the fastest thing I could find in dark red. Since Bella came in 2006, that makes this a year later when Jacob is 16. The Chevrolet Corvette was a 2006 model, I believe.

A/N2: This is actually post-Bella. Jessica said something similar, but not that same thing, in the cafeteria to Bella – well, imagine it if it's too similar.

Summary: Rosalie was envious, until she got to know the girl. "She feels nothing," Jasper warned, alarmed and shivering. "Cold." Bella/Edward, Bella/OC, Edward/Fem!Harry, Jacob/Reneesme, AU. Twilight/Harry Potter crossover.

Dead Yet

***

Prologue

"Pain hardens, and great pain hardens greatly, whatever the comforters say, and suffering does not ennoble, though it may occasionally lend a certain rigid dignity of manner to the suffering frame." – Antonia S. Byatt

I'd never given much thought to how I would die – though I'd had reason enough in the last few years, what with the war, and Africa, South America… too many places to name – but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this.

He made me stop to smile at the colour of the world. He made me laugh like I hadn't in… years. I smiled, I joked, but we all have our masks, and he broke down all barriers. Ironically, he seemed more human than I could ever hope to be. When I came to Forks, I had never expected something like this.

I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me.

Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.

I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death right now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's unreasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.

The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me.

Chapter One:

Two Days Too Long

She had her pretty black hair bound in a braid, beautiful light blue eyes, that olive skin tone only Italians can get, and made jeans and a t-shirt look good. That wasn't what had Rosalie staring, though.

There was a little boy she was carrying.

He had black curly hair and his mother's pretty eyes (only with more innocence), and curiously peered up from his mother's shoulder – and then snuggled his back into her neck and shoulder shyly. Automatically Rosalie loved him and hated the woman – she had a baby, a beautiful baby, where Rosalie could have none. She was human, and could live a human existence, a happy existence.

Rosalie was too busy staring at the baby. She didn't see what Edward saw.

*

"Edward Cullen," he introduced with a nod, towards the end of class.

"Oleander Potter, but you knew that."

The bell rang. With a nod in reply, she headed off to Physics. Advanced Physics Honors. Joy. She may understand it from Sci-Fi, but that didn't mean she liked the math – thank gods she had a class where everyone was cheating off of the smarter people.

The teacher wasn't that competent, actually giving the answer when he helped you with a problem. So, she asked a lot of questions, and he liked her enough that he had talked about giving her a recommendation – this early in the year. She may plan on going to a community college somewhere, but it would be almost too easy now. She had a rec. from her history teacher at her previous school, too – historical fiction and the boring easiness of simple worksheets (obviously from lack of creativity and budget) made it all too easy, in her last school. This was History through Film and Music – so they watched old black and white movies, sometimes silent movies – and listened to actual records. It was easy, since the teacher slept most of the time, old and nearing the grave as she was; too many years teaching had sucked out all interest in the subject, Lee figured. She'd ask for a rec. in that class too, since it was a different teacher.

English, for the writing, and Art were her best subjects. They didn't have a chorus class, but she had joined the local church's choir to make up for it – she'd been in chorus since third grade, but it would look better as an extra curricular, Lee knew. She'd already taken her gym requirement, so she joined the Journalism class – where they only worked on the school paper, pretty much – and had it last period. Math was her worst subject, and she still got an A- in it. Yes, she was an Honor Roll student – and she'd already done all of the work here, most 'til the end of the year, and she was in Honors classes across the board. This would be a boring, easy year. Thank God for work or she'd go insane.

Oleander worked three jobs; illustration for books and comics, secretary (under the table), and through the internet she edited books for a small fee. She also bought and re-sold things on E-Bay, for extra cash. With her father throwing money at her to so that he could boink his secretary in peace, too, she was quite wealthy, not that her trust fund wasn't large enough to begin with. The Potters had been businessmen and -women for generations on generations. They were Old Money.

Her father, naturally, only held his vacation home in Forks, having several houses elsewhere, but supposedly he lived there – supposedly. The actuality was different; James lived in planes, First Class, wracking up the frequent flier miles – she often got gifts from that. Hell, for her birthday James had handed Oleander a blank check and said "go buy a car". Since it was a blank check, Lee didn't feel guilty taking more. She had chosen the Chevy Corvette with a Monterey Red Metallic Tintcoat, and it drove like freakin' dream; on top of that, she'd gotten a Suzuki Hayabusa GSX1300R sports bike – motorcycle, that is, in a dark red. Yes, she liked red; it was her color.

Lily was a pale that only those of Irish heritage could reach and James had a real golden tan from all the trips he took, but Oleander had inherited the looks of her Grams, Dorea Black; the olive skin tone of Italians that looked tan even in winter pale. She had her mother's emerald eyes and, unfortunately, her father's hair; luckily, now that she didn't wear it short it no longer stuck up in all directions; down below her bra-strap it fell in a wave of glossy curls. Before it had been impossible to tame; Lee had figured that that was because it was naturally curly, and she'd been right. Despite her eyes making people insist on greens (her mother, overbearing before the divorce, for example), reds and blues really suited her better. Luckily, she had also gained her Grams' gift; to shapeshift. It was more than metamorphmagus ability, too. She made her eyes light blue, since she was in a new town, and controlled her health with it.

Lunch! She'd had history first thing, then English, physics, and now lunch. It was a good setup. She got extra sleep in the morning. After this she had art, math, and then journalism; she could relax before math, and then again after. Thankfully she'd already taken her gym requirement.

"Hi. I'm Angela Weber," the girl said softly. She seemed shy.

"Oleander Potter – call me Lee." They shook hands. "Hey, you're in the journalism class, right? What's it like?" Without knowing it she had just picked the perfect ice-breaker; for most of lunch they talked about it. The conversation dwindled, and her attention waned somewhat. "Who are they?"

Jessica-whatever looked over, immediately adding her unwanted opinion.

"Them? That's Edward and Alice Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Emmett Cullen. They're from Alaska and live with Dr. Cullen and his wife."

"They are… very striking," she struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice. And they live together," she added in a whisper as if this was some big, terrible secret. If I was honest, it would have invited talk even back in Manchester – England that is – not when she'd lived in Boston (Massachusetts) really, though….

"Which ones are the Cullens?" she asked. "Besides Edward; I met him in class. I mean, they don't look related…."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. Rosalie and Jasper – the blondes – are brother and sister, twins – and they're foster children."

"That's really kind of nice – for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything. Not many people will do something like that."

"Yeah," Jessica said reluctantly; probably jealous, from the way she looked at them. "I think it's because Mrs. Cullen can't have kids though."

Oleander's gaze grew icy cold.

"What?"

"The next time you plan to say something rude like that, think of who else might find it insulting. My godchildren are orphans."

Luckily the bell rang, because I stormed off to my locker.

"I'm sorry about your goddkids; loosing their parents, I mean."

Angela's very real sympathy cooled Oleander's temper a bit.

"Thanks," she nodded. Not many were so sympathetic, since the girl was… well….

"What are their names, if I can ask?"

"Jackie and Teddy," Oleander smiled, "Jacqueline Clarisse and Theodore David Lupin; they're real cuties; loving, gentle; sweethearts, really. They live with Uncle Sirius now, in La Push; that's why I moved here. Wouldn't want to split the Golden Quartet," she said, her smile bittersweet. Alice listened in closely.

"The Golden Quartet?" Angela asked, shaping the clay they'd gotten. Lee quickly began doing the same to her own piece; a lily and oleander intertwined, she thought.

"Mmm. There's Sirius' daughter Gracie, who's four, Jackie and Teddy, who're three, and my Christopher, who's three as well. Sirius has a daughter who's fourteen too, though; Persephone. Sort of awkward when you consider his half-brother's sixteen."

"Ouch. Your Chris? – And sorry if I'm prying."

"You're not prying; I'm new when you've known these people your whole life; it's pretty natural to be curious. Besides, I'd tell you if you were. Anyway, Chris is my son."

"Did his father…?"

"Let's just say there were issues."

Angela knew not to go further on that topic and asked instead about the kids; Lee practically waxed poetic on the subject, and Alice smiled to herself at it. Angela left for a different class when Oleander had math, and Alice bounced over to sit beside her. There were no assigned seats, and the teacher was actually good at teaching, surprisingly. Jasper was next to Alice on the other side.

"Hi! I'm Alice Cullen, and this is my boyfriend Jasper Hale."

"A pleasure." She wasn't much big on the friends thing, but couldn't bring herself to tell the cheery girl no. Alice seemed too nice, and Jasper was quiet at least. Thankfully they were only taking notes today, copying off the board, and she had already done this; Lee doodled in the margins some, taking her time. It appeared you could talk in this class so long as you got your work done – good for Alice, bad for her; not that she didn't like the girl, but she wouldn't be able to stand talking that much all the time. Thankfully, the girl seemed to accept her lack of response except for nods and 'hmm's. Oleander actually was listening, though. Halfway through class with nothing to do, she turned more attention towards Alice, jotting down little notes here and there.

When it was time for journalism class, Oleander smiled slightly and waved her goodbye. Alice was nice enough, and Jasper she could come to like just for his quietness in comparison to his girlfriend, but she wasn't really the friends type. She'd only ever had two before, Neville and Luna. Ginny could be counted maybe, but she was more Luna's friend; plus, that crush on her older brother… ugh, no. Ginny had been annoying, trying to pump her for information on Sam. Now that she was an in-law she wasn't so bad, but they weren't close either. So, Neville and Luna, who were marrying this coming summer. They understood her need to work an unnatural amount of hours, though. Others would be less than understanding if she forgot them while advancing her career.

Alice saw something else as she left, though; a possibility:

"What are you painting?" he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"A client wants a book cover done like a portrait, and some fake photograph – you know the ones with the white borders that came straight out of the camera – in black and white and sepia tones. I'm doing the photographs now."

"Ah. Will the paint need to dry anytime soon?" he asked suggestively.

"I can be convinced. Twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes," he agreed.

She'd scan the photographs that were dry and digitalize them later.

Alice bounced, squealing below human hearing. The lighting was dim even to a vampire, but she recognized the voice. Jasper rubbed his ears. She had killed both of his eardrums and wouldn't even tell him why.

"Hey Angela."

"Lee. This is Ryan Acada, Head Editor. Ryan, Lee Potter," Angela introduced shyly.

They said their hellos and got straight to business; Angela wandered off to her work station while they talked.

"Do you have any experience with writing?"

"Well, not officially, but I'm writing a book and… have you heard of ?"

"Sure, who hasn't?"

"Anyone not in the industry," she laughed, "but that's my website. I also do some work in illustration, if you need that. Though, with Angela around, I don't think you will."

Angela always carried a camera with her. Ryan acknowledged it with a nod.

"Well we could use another editor, if you don't mind. I'm the only one here; they just call me the Head Editor to make me seem important."

"No problem at all. I joined the class, didn't I? Can I bring work to school if I have extra time, though? I mean, I wouldn't mind doing a few articles, but…."

"Yeah, sure. Why not? The faculty advisor won't mind. I mean, she goes out for lunch and leaves us on our own. Though sometimes she eats it here."

Oleander laughed, but it rang false in her ears. It always did.

He set her up at a table/desk with a computer and then handed her disks. The first one he needed by the next day, two more by Thursday and the other two sometime before the next Wednesday. It was an easy schedule for a workaholic used to doing twenty pages at a time, for certain. He must have been giving her an easy start. She was done with all but one by the end of class, and asked for a couple more to work on at home and school the next day. He pointed her towards the pile on his desk with a large smile, looking very relieved to have help. She could see why.

When the bell rang she headed straight to the car. She drove up to La Push in the 'vette to pick up Chris, thanking Jacob more than Sirius, since she figured that he was the more responsible one, much to Sirius' faked consternation. Lee thanked their father Billy too of course; he'd probably reined Sirius in. Jacob and Sirius had the same father and different mothers – "Mrs." Black (who'd wanted to be the late Mrs. Black, if you caught her drift) had unfortunately gotten custody of the man-child. She regretted it immediately when he hit the terrible twos. Billy's second wife Sarah had given him two more children before Jacob; Rachel and Rebecca. Sarah had died; and although Lee wasn't sure from what, she got the feeling that it had been quite sudden and unexpected.

At any rate, she stayed to talk to Jacob about cars for a couple of hours before she left back to her place. She took a shower after; Sirius smelled like wet dog. Lee had had to give Chris a bath too; luckily he loved the water. She'd planned to start bringing him to school with her starting the next week, and while grateful to the Blacks was glad she had decided on it. She knew about Padfoot, but gods if he didn't need a shower.

She hadn't done anything but a two minute trip to the grocery store, so the dinner she made was simple; hotdogs. She cut Chris' up into tiny little pieces, of course, as she wasn't about to let her baby boy choke. Thank the gods that ketchup was her vegetable of choice; she'd picked it up automatically with the hotdogs and milk – and Coke. That was hard to get in England. Then she washed his face, let him go potty, and sat him in front of the TV for a half hour. Bedtime was six thirty for him. Then Lee went to do what little homework she had, worked on editing academic papers and books and other things until nine-thirty, took a fifteen minute shower and curled up on the couch in pajamas watching the cooking channel until ten-thirty. With an exhausting day of endless questions about herself, she was ready to collapse by then.

She woke up at three am (four was her usual) and made coffee; Lee wouldn't be going back to sleep. Yes, coffee. Just because she was British didn't mean she liked tea all that much – only Chai, and only in the afternoon or evening. Speaking of, she made some to put in a thermos to bring to lunch. She didn't blame the Cullens for leaving their trays untouched yesterday; the food was truly disgusting. Even the salad hadn't looked right. Oleander made herself a peanut butter and tomato sandwich for lunch too; it tasted better than it sounded (though the first time she'd dropped the tomato in by accident). A banana and chocolate dip, too, for a snack. She balanced the unhealthy with the healthy, except on rare occasion, and she'd need the chocolate to deal with the sheep.

Then Oleander worked on some of the articles for the paper for a while; switching back and forth between that and a futuristic "historical fiction", the history parts being the present day. It was an interesting read, and the author wasn't near as bad as he thought he was in grammar, although he had a problem with the tenses.

Lee got ready for school with simple jeans and a button-up over a t-shirt; she'd have to buy new jeans – they were sort of tight. She hoped that she wasn't gaining weight (of course, they also hugged her ass, though she didn't notice). Throwing her unruly curls up into a simple ponytail, she put on a thin hooded jacket with her faded jean jacket over it. She took the sleeping Chris and a bag for him (he was still in his pajamas) and drove him up to La Push. Billy greeted her with a smile; Jacob and Sirius were still sleeping.

School that day was boring, which she was grateful for; except for playing Lady Macbeth in English, with Edward Cullen as Macbeth. She'd always liked that play, and he was nice to look at even if she didn't want any romantic attachments. Lunch came.

"Do you want to sit with us?"

Oleander paused, then waved apologetically to Angela.

"Sure."

What the Hell is she doing?

What the f –?

Is that the new girl? What is she doing with…?

Is she sitting with the Cullens?!

"Alice?" Edward hissed.

"Don't worry; I can see her. She's nice."

This was, of course, said below human hearing levels. Emmett just shrugged. Whatever. If she wanted a new human into their lives… well, he trusted her. Rosalie, however, glared enviously. This girl had a baby, the only thing Rosalie had ever wanted besides getting her humanity back. The girl glared back, briefly, then turned to listen to Alice, who was gabbing her mouth off.

"I don't think this is even tuna," Lee said halfway through lunch, poking at Emmett's. "It looks like beef product drenched in mayo and fish juice."

The others cringed. Emmett and Edward laughed.

"Sounds about right."

Oleander nodded. "Glad I brought my lunch. I'm not surprised none of you have touched yours. I hope that you eat at home, though." I bet the roll tastes like the cardboard box it came in, too. Now I remember why I bag lunch. Ugh. Tea, tea, tea – before I throw up.

Jasper, Alice and Rosalie had been discretely getting up to throw bits of their lunches away, but none of them had touched the tuna. It smelled like beef product in fish juice and mayonnaise. With chicken broth. Eeew; just yuck.

"We do."

Edward brought the conversation back around to Lee's old school. Oleander was distracted, luckily. Actually, she became distracted by some tinfoil at one point, making Edward smirk. A "sharp and shiny complex", as was her rueful thought, indeed. They talked about the ridiculousness of the rumor mill – "So I'm a British spy, now? Since when were we at war with England?" – and classical music – "Für Elise, actually" – and other topics. She had an eclectic taste in music, certainly; actually, she had eclectic taste in general. Then he saw it in her bag and had to comment.

"That's beautiful. Did you make it?" Edward asked, putting it gently on the table. It was a wall hanging of sorts, made of beautifully painted intertwined flowers.

"Yup! In art class!" Alice supplied for her. "It's supposed to symbolize something."

"What did you pick?" Jasper asked quietly.

"The women on my mother's side," Lee smiled. It wasn't quite genuine, though she was trying to make it so, Jasper felt. "Grandmum Rose and her sister Orchid are the two at the top. My mum Lily and her sister Petunia below that, and then me."

"What's the little wilted one at the bottom?" Emmett asked in curiosity.

Jasper put a hand to his chest, gasping silently at the pain as she smiled sadly.

"Chris was supposed to be a twin. I… I lost the other baby, but I was going to name her Poppy, for my midwife. I… excuse me, please."

Grabbing her bag, she rushed to the ladies' room for a good cry. The flowers were left on the table. Emmett stared down at them, feeling awful. Edward put a hand on his shoulder, not feeling too well himself, and Jasper looked faint from the emotions. Alice quickly steadied him. Rosalie looked down at her lap.

I envied this, when there's so much pain? Still envy the girl – no, woman, she's a woman – the child she does have? What the Hell is wrong with me?

Edward's head shot up.

"Nothing, Rose. It's natural to feel that way." The others were curious, but didn't ask.

Alice's eyes glazed over, then her head popped up with a smile.

"She'll feel better by the end of art, and you'll feel better by math, Rosalie."

She had calculus with them. Alice had already taken Trig, unlike Edward, even if she had another year at school like he did. She'd wanted it over with as soon as possible, so she'd had taken it as a summer course – which took no time at all for a person who didn't – couldn't – sleep.

Rosalie put the flower hanging delicately in her bag.

"This is yours," Rosalie said very softly, almost cringing, later in math.

"Thanks," Lee smiled, putting it back in her bag. The vampire gave her an odd look. "It's a reminder of when I painted the nursery, when I bought teddy bears and bottles and gods know how many diapers. It will remind me of the good times as much as the bad."

"Strength through adversity," Rosalie said quietly, sitting behind her.

"I guess," Oleander shrugged simply.

"How… how can you not be a mess right now?" she whispered. Esme always cried when talking about her lost baby, and she rarely talked about it at all.

"We all have masks. The day won't end because I want it to."

Her smile rang false now.

"No one is more profoundly sad as one who laughs too much." - Jean Paul.

***