The requested fic by GraveRobbing Zydrate Addict.
Twilight/Harry Potter crossover.
Warnings for Slash themes, as well as Bella and Ginny bashing.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Twilight are both (c) to their respective owners
Pairing: Jasper/Harry or Edward/Harry (undecided)
The motion of the tides
By Turquoise Kitsune
There was seemingly endless tension that coating number 12 Grimmauld Place, and despite the bustling feet of soldiers and medics there was an eerie silence. The house filled with the coppery scent of blood, the odour drifting down from the upper levels of the house where the healers were stationed. The once Great and Noble house of Black was reduced to a refuge for the victims of war.
Should the painting of the widowed consort of the head of Black be in sight, Walburga Black would no doubt find a way to rid her house of such filth. Mudbloods, Half-Bloods, and Blood Traitors! But alas she was hidden in some back cupboard, lost amongst the timeless relics of the Black family, mute to protest, and guilt-ridden. For what would her long dead husband think? She had failed her duty as Lady Black, and would bare this punishment with what dignity she had left.
From her idle prison she could hear the goings on, the chat amongst this 'order' that had invaded her home. And if she was silent enough she could hear their plans, their attempts against the Dark Lord. Walburga pondered once, how she could aid the Dark Lord, rid the infestation of vermin, assist the Purebloods, and perhaps rid herself of the guilt. But the filth had over run her home in more ways than she had imagined! She had summoned Kreacher, and a loyal elf as he was he appeared like he had many times in her life time. But now the snivelling, ragged mess Kreacher once was replaced by a strangely tidy elf with clean uniform shirt and slacks, neatly pressed and a crisp white.
Walburga had sneered. What was this? This was not how a respectable house elf should be! A good house elf should not be dressed as a human, for house elves were animals, creatures to aid the greatness of wizard kind. The lady Black would not have her house elf clean and a mere animal imitating humans, the idea was laughable! Dead or not she would put a stop to this. Walburga ranted to the best of her mute ability, and what great injustice to the wizarding world, when this animal turned a nose up at her, and declared that she was not his master. The insolent creature informed her of her son's decision, and hence forth that Kreacher would no longer serve she, nor any one of her legacy.
Her estranged dead son, in his will, had turned over the Black residence to some Half-Blood filth, Harry Potter. God son of his, son of poor Sirius's muggle-loving friends. She bemoaned quietly, soundless in her agony, oh her poor Sirius, where had she gone wrong? Why couldn't he have been more like Regulus? Sweet, sweet, Regulus, he was a true Black, he was her little boy.
She then glared, the Potter boy lied, he had to have. Regulus would not have turned on the Dark Lord! He couldn't have! All his life he had regaled the Dark Lord, ranting of the greatness of he who rid this world of muggle vermin. Regulus had only waited a few hours past his majority before rushing to the Dark Lord's side. He was brave, and he died ridding this world of Muggles, and Mudbloods.
Your son Regulus was an even greater traitor that Sirius..
No! NO! Walburga cradled her head; her little boy was no traitor. It was lies, lies! She embraced herself, and rocked violently. Lies….
0 0 0
Outside, the streets were a bloodbath, the life force of Muggles and Wizards alike dripping like the paint of macabre art piece. Indefinable, and their heritage unimportant as the bodies rotted, spilling deadly fumes from the decay. East London a playground for death. Huddled inside the dumpster of a deserted shopping complex, one very much alive wizard sat. Nothing like a horror of war to make you treasure fragile life. Draco rested against the inner wall of the dumpster, ignoring the putrid stench of rotting garbage, safety was more important than comfort. Velvet robes tattered and soaked with decomposing material, the regal Malfoy crest faded but still visible, smeared with drying blood. Despite the dire situation, Draco snickered, cradling his throbbing arm, and ignoring the alarming amount of blood pouring from a gash in his left leg. He wished his father could see him now, hiding amongst a muggle cesspool of debris.
He lifted his thin hand to his head, running his trembling fingers though shabbily shorn blond locks. Once fine and soft blond hair, stingy with dirt and god knows what else. The door of the dumpster creaked open, Draco jumped, immediately alert and then lax as Harry stumbled in, bleeding profusely from several head and chest wounds. Draco knew, when he got like this, this was Harry at the absolute point of exhaustion. He had not only tired himself physically, but likely had drained himself of all his magic.
Draco sighed, holding back harsh words, and instead opening his arms, he would berate Harry when the bastard was conscious enough to feel guilty. Harry half collapsed into Draco's lap, his head burying into Draco's thigh despite the filth. The blonde sighed once again, reaching down to unclasp Harry's fingers from his wand. His hand was clenched so tightly that the knuckles had begun to go white. Removing the wand, he caressed the stiff fingers, and mentally gathered his remaining Magical reserves. Draco put Harry's wand between his teeth, his own broken wand somewhere amongst the carnage outside. Turning Harry over, so that his back rested on the rubbish pile, Draco stripped off his own tattered outer robes and bunched them, placing them as a makeshift pillow while he tended to Harry's wounds.
A quick hunt through his pockets and he found something no doubt useful. A silver dagger no longer than his forearm carved with runes that no doubt felled numerous dark creatures in its day, he must have pocketed it while they were in Malfoy Manor and had forgotten about it. He ran a brief diagnostic spell, it seemed safe enough and as careful as possible, Draco slit down the centre of Harry's robes. Using the material as a barrier against the rubbish, he checked Harry's wounds.
His torso was a myriad of scars and bruises, the bleeding wounds colouring parts of his chest red and brown. It was beautiful in a way, like some twisted sculpture. Harry was no doubt a specimen of male perfection. Smooth toned torso, ripped with strong abdominal muscles built from years of dodging spells, and sculpted biceps and triceps from the rigorous training the war put him through.
Draco gripped Harry's wand, and flicked it, Vulnera Sanentur. The large gashes begun to seal up like zippers and Draco sighed in relief that the spell worked. As exhausted as he was at this moment, Draco wasn't sure his magical reserves would hold out. He cast Tergeo, to clear the dried blood from the chest wounds, and looked up to smile at Harry.
Harry's eyes were shut; his face an unearthly pale and Draco panicked a moment as he checked the pulse. But there it was the soft but sure thumping of the heart, the fool had simply lost consciousness, Draco smothered a fond smile. Pulling Harry's head onto his lap, he hunted through Harry's matted raven black hair for the source of the head wound. A shallow cut just above the right temple was sluggishly leaking blood. A last Episkey healed the wounded and drained Draco of his last reserves.
Pulling the brunette's unconscious body towards him and they curled together onto Harry's torn open robes. Using his own robes Draco covered the pair of them and closed his eyes. His last conscious thought a weak prayer to whatever deity was out there to protect them for a few hours of sleep.
0 0 0
No one expected vampires. No one. Not even Hermione, not even Snape, not the adults nor the children. In fact nor did Albus. The man went, honestly, on a whim, on the slightest faith that maybe just maybe. At least that's what he said, but ever the cunning puppeteer, Albus had likely planned a well thought out strategy to get them on his side.
The Cullens were exactly what the Order needed. They were strong and talented Vampires and Albus had the utmost faith in them and more importantly their control. They could take down the rogues that Voldemort held, newborns that were near majority and were losing their new born abilities. While Voldemort, his hubris an open target, had likely neglected to learn much about Vampires and knew not the difference between a new born to a clan leader, would not have realized what was happening. The old man smiled benignly, wondering how such a fool of a man could cause such havoc. Then again young Tom Riddle has always had a taste for chaos, and disruption.
If for a moment in all honesty Albus would have mentioned why he had fetched these Vampires, he would say there was only one thing that attracted him to the Cullens. Later in private when Severus had asked him why the Cullens and not a larger more influential Vampire clan, he had sprouted nonsense of a trustworthy more humane, and likely more human Vampires. Of course Albus himself had spent a long time pondering the use of a Clan such as the Volturi in the war. But while he threw about his pros and cons, Albus felt the greatest advantage of the Cullens was one thing alone.
"Vegetarianism," an interesting concept indeed. In which a Vampire would dull their senses by taking in animal blood opposed to human blood. His close friend Nicholas had previously debated with him the differences of consuming animal blood versus human blood. Surely human blood would provide greater nourishment and sustain any Vampire for a longer period of time, also ensuring greater stealth and strength abilities. However a close study had yield that there was no real difference between the facilities of human or animal blood. And the only reason Vampire craved it was because it was simply so potent. Hence a Vampire consuming human blood would survive just as long as a Vampire consuming the blood of a human sized animal. Human blood simply induced a sort of euphoria in the Vampire senses, and so it seemed as if the blood of a human was more nourishing.
Also considering the amount of sugar in an average human's diet, no wonder they were more preferable! Blood flavoured with leaves and whatever else said animals would eat hardly sounds appetising. But herein lies the Cullens greatest strength. After a while animal blood will start to desensitize Vampire senses and while they would still find human blood appetising, animal blood will reduce the potency of wizard blood. While wizards are simply magical humans, the scent of magic will pollute the scent of wizards' blood, and wizards would not be as appealing for dinner.
The more magical power the more blood pollution; Albus himself could confidently spend time with most vegetarian Vampires and not be worried about slitting a vein. This blood pollution however only affects 'Vegetarian Vampires'. Vampires who feed on human blood would simply find wizard blood a little less potent than human blood. Magical pollution in the blood stream would be over powered by the scent of partly human blood.
The blood lusting rogue vampires of Voldemort on the battlefield would succumb to bloodlust and fall into frenzy easily, draining the bodies whether dark wizard or light. However the scent of blood would not bother any of these Cullens who would not be distracted at all because of the magical scent.
Albus popped a lemon drop into his mouth, savouring the sour flavour as it burst in his mouth. Twiddling his thumbs thoughtfully, he wondered if the Cullens were opposed to magical travel.
0 0 0
Bella Swan's presence was like fungi growing in between the Cullen family, a troublesome yet seemingly harmless variety of mushroom. But once they let her root, she encompassed the area, and just like the spores of a mushroom, she was everywhere in the air. Even when she wasn't around, there was always some example of her existence. Whether it was her scruffy trainers on the doormat or otherwise ill chosen article of clothing left lying about, from the sheer amount of human food that now filled the kitchen to the stray brown hairs that decorated the oddest corners, the house positively reeked of human. And Rosalie was sick of it.
Of course Edward would fall in love with the singular most stupid human on the face of the earth. Stupid and an unattractive shade of brown mousiness. She had no redeemable features what-so-ever. Unsociable, irritable, generally all that of an angsting teenager and just so goddamn plain. So unremarkable in every way, yet here she was, invading Rosalie's space, humaning up the place, as everyone rushed to cater to the human. They absolutely adored her. Every plain miserable mousy brown inch. A deep scowl cut into the aristocratic features of Rosalie Hale as she sunk deeply into a leather armchair, neatly manicured nails filing indents into the smooth material.
When Rosalie was a child, she had mistakenly eaten a fairly common and safe variety of mushroom only to react violently in her first allergic reaction. In respect to this, Rosalie concluded that she was allergic to Bella, and if the human came within so much as an inch of her again, Rosalie would find out just what Edward was resisting. Smirking as images, each increasingly more violent, thrummed through her mind, she leant forward resting her arms on her knees. Downstairs the click of the door announced the arrival of people, and that familiar sickly sweet smell announced the arrival of Bella. Esme twirled into the lounge, arms cradling various snacks, smile etched onto her face, honey curls bouncing. Rosalie rolled her eyes, grabbing a nearby magazine and staring blindly at the open page; of course Esme would be happy about this. The darling mother figure greeted both Edward and his little lost lamb with a kiss on both cheeks, and bombarded them about their day.
Where did you go?
What movie did you see?
What did you eat?
Are you still hungry?
Rosalie wished desperately that someone would kill her now, as the conversation carried on around her. Irritation growing at the assault of the senses she had to deal with everyday. She couldn't spend one day without that smell invading her nose, and Bella marring her vision, nor some ignorant statement that came from Bella's stupid human sensibilities.
"-Rosalie?"
She looked up at the question, seeing both Esme and Edward looking at her disapprovingly, and Bella's cow eyes wide with inquiry.
"What." Esme's frown deepened at her rudeness, and Edward scowled before answering on behalf of his clearly incapable pet.
"Bella and I are going out to dinner to celebrate; she's going to be borrowing one of your dresses,"
Rosalie glowered at Edward,
"No," and then, "Celebrate what?"
"Don't be a bitch Rose, just let her borrow one, we would ask Alice but she's too small for Bella to fit,"
"I'm well aware of your chubby little pet Edward, I just don't see why this is my problem,"
"Rosalie!" She did not need to look up to see Esme's shocked expression
"She doesn't live here! I don't see why you can't run her home to get something, and why the hell she spends all her time here? The fridge is filled with food only she can eat; you go out and buy her things that only she can wear, why does she need to be here, stinking up the place because once again, she doesn't goddamn live here!" Rosalie hissed.
Bella recoiled as if stung, and Edward cuddled her, before replying coldly, "Well, you better get used to it Rosalie, because we're getting married, and she'll be moving in,"
The arm rest of the leather armchair split with a loud crack, the leather torn forcefully from the splinters. Rosalie stood, pushing away the irrevocably damage chair into the wall, where it slammed causing a large indent in the cool cream plaster. Eyes wild with rage, and blonde hair rippling with ire, Rosalie was an impressive figure in her anger. The rest of them stood silently, and Rosalie left the room, her quiet steps sounded, before her own bedroom door was ripped off its hinges. There was a rustling and the front door slammed shut before the engine of her red convertible revved, and the taillights disappeared down the driveway.
0 0 0
The next they heard from Rosalie was when she phoned Emmett, her previous ire now lost to exhaustion.
When Emmett and Jasper had returned home from their hunt, they found the rest of the family sitting quite morosely in the lounge, neither Edward, Esme nor Bella having moved since Rosalie's abrupt departure. And after being regaled with the story, Emmett could not help but feel irritation at his younger brother. A rare, very rare grimace decorated Emmett's usually jolly face, and under cautious eyes, he left the room, moving into the carnage left in his wife's wake.
Bedroom door removed from its hinges, bed split in two, sheer cashmere sheets torn down the centre. The wardrobe hanging open, clothes tossed in her haste to leave, only the bare minimum taken. He sighed heavily, large calloused hand rubbing roughly over his face.
She was such a ridiculous woman, but silently Emmett could not help but agree with her. Bella was becoming a burden on the family, and he had hoped it would not come to this. But Emmett knew that if Edward did not make the choice between them, he would have to make it for his little brother. Despite the love Emmett had for his family, his loyalty lay solely with Rosalie, and as far as he was concerned Bella was no responsibility of his.
His stream of thought was then interrupted much to relief by a phone call from Rosalie.
"oh Rose.." His shallow breath echoed down the line.
"Em. Em, listen to me. I'm leaving for a while, okay? I've been in contact with some friends in London, who have been in some trouble recently. You remember Albus? He's had some conflict with rouge vampires and requested our presence. I turned it down previously, but I can't stay here, not with that human around. I'm sorry Em," The connection had stripped away the musical quality of her voice, her words sounding tinny and unnatural, like she was holding back tears, if she could only shed them. Emmett's stomach clenched,
"Where are you now? You're not leaving without me- Shut up Rose! Where are you?"
"At the airport, second terminal, my flight boards at 2:00 AM. Listen Em-"
Emmet snapped the phone shut, effectively hanging up on his wife. There would be hell to pay for that later, but right now he had to concentrate on getting to her. The glanced at the clock down the hall, 8:00PM. He would need to be there three hours early to buy his ticket and get through customs. That left about 4 hours for him to get there. He spun on his heel, intent on packing and getting to that stupid, beautiful woman, but his eyes rose unbidden to catch those equally piercing eyes of his littlest brother. Who had no doubt been eavesdropping on them, if the scowl he wore was any indication.
As if he could leave without a confrontation with the family, Emmett thought mirthlessly. It was nearing 9 and they had spent the last forty minutes arguing bitterly. Emmett himself just wanted to leave, but Carlisle thought it was too dangerous, getting involved with outside conflicts. Jasper had a constipated expression, the myriad of emotions taking a toll on his ability to the point where he just didn't care, Esme perched beside him, petting his head gently as if to ward of the ill sensations, sharp incisors gnawing on her bottom lip, her soft face pulled into a frown of worry. Edward had left Bella out of the way, engaging loudly with Emmett and Carlisle, while Alice attempted to consol the pathetically out of depth human.
Bella didn't understand what was going on entirely, but Rosalie left and she was glad for that at least. The blonde vampire scared her, and her beauty threatened Bella, who's to say that Edward wouldn't just change his mind one day? And go back to Rosalie? She didn't like the way Edward was fighting with his family. Rosalie had left off to England somewhere, and Edward wanted to go get her back, but Carlisle didn't want him to go. But Bella had never been out of the country, and she knew that Edward wouldn't leave without her. She perked up, interjecting loudly,
"I've never been to England, sounds like fun!" She shot a wide beam at her boyfriend, who seemed startled, as if he only just noticed her presence.
Emmett hid a laugh, and Carlisle frowned deeply, Esme smiled gently at her, and just as the argument was set to resume, Jasper spoke.
"Would you lot just shut up?" The harsh words of the usually quiet man silenced the family.
"Emmett, myself, Alice and Carlisle will follow Rosalie. Albus is a personal friend, and if Rose had informed me earlier I would have helped as well. Now Edward and Esme can stay here and look after Bella-" Jasper was cut off by the following stream of protests.
He held up his hand for silence, "Alice, if you're sure you don't want to go, you can stay here with Edward. Esme can go instead, and you can keep us alerted if the Volturi or any more of Victoria's friends come to visit."
Mostly agreeable to this, Esme, Carlisle and Emmett all left to get ready for their impromptu trip. Edward stalked towards him, anger writ across his face. Jasper ignored him, turning to Bella, still cradled in the arms of his mate,
"I'm sorry Isabella; you are not coming with us. We are not going on a holiday you must understand. We're going into a conflict zone and you would only be a liability. It would be a burden for us to be protecting you when we're fighting." He explained as gently as possible.
"Then make me a vampire, turn me! I'm ready!"
"We accepted Edward's decision to bring you into our family, and despite the conflict you have caused within our family no one has ever rebuked you. I think it's time for you and Edward, if you are planning on a long term relationship, to think about getting your own house. Rosalie is family Isabella, and we can't let her just drift away like this,"
Jasper then turned to Edward, "You, little brother have made a decision to bring a human into the family, and she is your responsibility. You can't go running off anymore, you need to look after her."
Jasper cut off Edwards reply, turning towards Alice, who was glaring at him opening, something that had become more and more common with Bella's constant presence. Jasper sighed, hands ruffling his warm honey curls irritably; he had some packing to do. The growing gap between himself and Alice would just have to wait.
TBC
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