A/N: Hello. This is my first fanfiction written in English. It's not my first language so I'd very much appreciate some reviews and corrections. Thank you.

About the story: I should probably mention that I don't like Twilight. I'm a huge fan of HP. But I both read and watched Twilight so I think I know the story. When I was reading it I was thinking about what it would be like, if Bella were a witch. Surely, she would be much more interesting and not so boring and whiny. I've been thinking about it for a while and finally decided to write about it.

So, the story follows the storyline of Twilight (some parts are copied from the book but edited or shortened - mostly the boring description of Edward's looks) but I hope I've made it a little bit more interesting. At least it is for me :)

I try to follow Rowling's rules and laws of wizarding world more than the rules of Meyer's. Also I changed the timeline so it would fit the story. So it means that Bella arrives in Forks in September instead of January (or whenever it was in Twilight).

I don't own either Twilight or HP.

EDIT 08/06/2018: A minor continuity error fixed.

Chapter one

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. But I liked rain better than the hot sunny weather that had been in Phoenix where I'd stayed with my mother the last four weeks of this summer. Rain reminded me of Britain and Hogwarts, my old school of magic. Yes, I'm a witch. I was forced to leave the country because I'm a muggle-born and since a dark wizard Lord Voldemort took over the Ministry of Magic I've been in hiding. First I flew to Phoenix, Arizona to my mother and then we decided that it would be better if I stayed with my father in Forks, Washington. Nobody would be able to find me there because my parents divorced when I was three and I lived with my mother, only visiting my father during summer and winter holidays.

My dad Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. He had been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him although he was surprised by the sudden decision. Neither he nor my mother knew about Voldemort and I didn't feel like telling them. Not yet, anyway. I knew I couldn't tell my mum because she wouldn't be able to cope with that. Charlie was more understanding so maybe one day I would tell him. He knew something was wrong though. That much I'd told him.

He'd already gotten me registered for muggle high school and was going to help me get a car. That was the reason why I got my driving licence during the four weeks in Phoenix. I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling. "You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"

"Mum's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad."

I brought all my Hogwarts stuff and some muggle clothes with me so I dragged a very heavy trunk plus a cage with my owl. We loaded the trunk into the trunk of the cruiser and the cage in the back seat.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" I didn't know anything about cars and I just got my licence so I was a little worried about driving.

"Well, it's a truck, actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"No."

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.

"Oh, him," I said when I vaguely remembered his fishing friend.

"He's in a wheelchair now, so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"How old is it?"

"He bought it in 1984, I think."

"Did he buy it new?"

"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties – or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted.

"Dad, I really don't know anything about cars, I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong and I couldn't afford a mechanic…" Maybe magic would help me but I didn't know any spells for fixing cars. I didn't think of asking Mr. Weasley about it when I was at the Burrow in July.

"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

"How cheap is cheap?" I asked. After all, my supllies of muggle money were very limited.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"Well, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was delightfuly wet and then we stared out the windows in silence.

It was beautiful. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. I almost felt like I was back in Scotland.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother when they'd arrived in Forks. There, parked on the street in front of the house was my new – well, new to me – truck. It was a faded red colour, with big rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!"

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.

We pulled the trunk and the cage out of the car and took it upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had been belonged to me since we moved here when I was little. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window – these were all a part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The rocking chair I remembered from my childhood was still in the corner.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I didn't mind that.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and just let a few tears escape.

I missed Hogwarts. I missed my housemates and Gryffindor common room and Quidditch. I missed my best friend Ginny Weasley. But I had to run away because otherwise I would probably have been caught and arrested – if I were lucky and wouldn't be killed. I was lucky that my parents lived in America so I had some place to go. British muggle-borns were forced to hide in Britain and were in constant danger of being caught. Our only hope was Harry Potter. I knew that Dumbledore had left him work to do in order to destroy Voldemort even though I had no idea what that could be. But no one knew where Harry was now because he and his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger disappeared the day Voldemort took over the Ministry.

So I had to wait here until something happened. I had my enchanted Galleon and Ginny had promised that she would let me know if I was needed. I still couldn't do any magic because I was underage so I only hoped that it wouldn't happen until my seventeenth birthday, which would be in two weeks. I felt a bit guilty and selfish when I thought of all the muggles and muggle-borns that were being chased and probably tortured right now, but I wanted to fight. I was in Gryffindor, after all.

There was also the fact that I would be going to a new school tomorrow morning. A muggle school. After five years in Hogwarts where I'd been learning magic I was about to go to a muggle high school. My mum had helped me decide what subjects I should take so I would be somehow able to graduate. Sure, I was ready to go back to Hogwarts as soon as Voldemort was gone but that could be who knows when and I needed some kind of education. I wasn't very happy about it but I couldn't just sit in my bedroom doing nothing.

I'd decided on taking subjects that could be somehow compared to the ones I studied in Hogwarts. So I took English – I had experience in writing essays and I loved reading – then P.E. - well, I was quite good at Quidditch, even though I hated any physical activities that included running – Math – it was similar to Arithmancy – Art – we used to draw star charts in Astronomy – History – History of Magic was different from muggle history but I'd read some muggle history books and with a bit of hard work I could catch up with the rest of my class - and Biology – well, I had a few years of Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures so it couldn't be that far off.

Fortunately it was the beginning of September so I wouldn't have to suddenly appear there in the middle of a school year. Of course I still dreaded the first day at muggle high school but not because of the muggle subjects but because I'm not very good with people. Yes, I had friends at Hogwarts, good friends actually, but they were the same like me. We had many things in common. And most importantly we started at Hogwarts at the same time. These people here had grown up together. I would be the new girl here. The new girl from different country.

When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I gave my owl Agnes a few owl treats. Then I gave her some freedom and let her out of the cage so she could fly outside and hunt some mice.

I had dinner with Charlie and he asked me if I wanted to talk about Britain. I didn't. I was tired after the journey and wanted some sleep. I slept surprisingly well that night mainly because of the rain that lulled me into sleep five minutes after I got to bed.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning. Agnes was still out hunting so I closed the window and went downstairs to say bye to Charlie. He wished me good luck at school and then left for work. After breakfast I changed into comfortable jeans and a long sleeve shirt (one good thing about American high schools was that we didn't have to wear school uniforms – I'd never felt good in it at Hogwarts), and packed my new school books that Charlie had bought for me. It felt weird not to take my wand with me so I stuck it into my bag though I knew I wouldn't be able to use it.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I wasn't so sure about my driving yet and didn't know how long would take me to get there so I put on my jacket and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up.

Inside the truck it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline and peppermint. I started the car and the engine roared to life loudly. I drove slowly and carefuly but I got into it quite quickly.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-coloured bricks. I remembered the beautiful castle which had been my school for the last five years and I missed Hogwarts even more.

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading Front office. No one else was parked here, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside so I stepped out of the truck and walked down the little stone path. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside it was brightly lit and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commerical carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. The room was cut in half by a long counter. One of the three desk behind the counter was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses.

The woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her and saw the immediate awarness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt.

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. She gave me my schedule and a map of the school. Then she gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day.

When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. Most of the cars looked older like mine, the only exception was a shiny Volvo.

After I parked, I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it. It wasn't that hard. The school was tiny comparing to Hogwarts. I stuffed everything in my bag and stepped out of the truck.

I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk crowded with teenagers. Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. I hang up my jacket on a long row of hooks and took the slip to the teacher whose name was Mr. Mason. He gave me a reading list and sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. I looked at the list. It was full of names of authors I didn't know. The only name I recognized was Shakespeare. Well, at least I knew how to spend the long evenings at home.

When the bell rang, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?"

"Bella," I corrected. Everyone turned to look at me now.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check in my bag. "Um, History in building six."

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way," he said. "I'm Eric," he added.

I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. We talked a bit about the weather and my old school in Britain (of course I avoided any details). Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful. I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. One girl sat next to me in both Math and History, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than me, with wildly curly dark hair. She introduced herself as Jessica and she tried to tell me as much as possible about teachers and classes. I could barely keep up.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends. I tried to remember their names but somehow I couldn't because that was when I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big – muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in the college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. One was tall with a beautiful figure, her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The other was short, pixielike and thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, their eyes seemed to be dark but I couldn't be sure because they were too far away from me. They also had dark shadows under those eyes – purplish, bruiselike shadows. And they all were inhumanly beautiful. In fact, they didn't look like humans.

I stared at them in shock for a few moments. I had seen someone who looked very similar to them. The same pale skin, the same beauty, the same dark shadows under his eyes. But the man wasn't a human. He was a vampire. I saw him at a Christmas party at Hogwarts last year. He was invited by professor Slughorn but it was only because he fed on animal blood, not humans. Still, he was pretty dangerous and there was a wizard with him who kept an eye on him.

I couldn't believe that any vampire, even if fed on animals, would dare to come to a place with so many humans. It was dangerous not only for the humans but for the vampires too. They would risk exposure. Surely, I had to be wrong.

As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray – the food untouched – and walked away with a quick, graceful lope, dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible.

"Who are they?" I asked Jessica.

As she looked up to see who I meant – though already knowing, probably, from my tone – suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his eyes flickered to mine. He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flash of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest – it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

Jessica giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"That's Edward and Emmet Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Doctor Cullen and his wife," she said this under her breath.

A bit strange old names for muggles, I thought. These were normal in my world.

"They are… very nice-looking," I said to Jessica. I wanted to know more about them and somehow I thought that this little remark would set her off. I was right.

She told me that they are couples: Emmet and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, and that Dr. Cullen and his wife adopted all of them. Rosalie and Jasper Hale – the tall blond girl and the tall blond boy - were twins. The others were not related. They moved in Forks two years ago from Alaska.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me with a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him."

Maybe it's good for you, I thought and looked at the strange group again. Edward's face was now turned away and after a few more minutes they all left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful – even the big, brawny one.

After lunch I went to my next class, Biology, with a girl that had been sitting at our table, Angela. We walked in silence. She was shy, too.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at one of the tables. She already had a neighbor, probably from last year. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. I recognized Edward Cullen sitting next to that single open seat.