Under Her Spell - Book Four - Edward Masen in: Defending Our Love

by Bubbleybear

The adults in our lives were supposed to protect us. Who knew they'd be the biggest threat to our bond? And make us Defend Our Love.

2. Chapter One - Summer Part I

Twilight and Harry Potter belong to Stephanie Meyer and JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

Enjoy.

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Chapter One – Summer Part I

Summer started much like any other we'd had. Everyone was very busy with their own things that had accumulated over the year we had been at Hogwarts.

A family of supernaturally inclined people would never fully be at rest.

We'd had our usual rest period, but by the end of that, everyone was itching to get started on something to do, none more so than Neville.

Earlier in our third year at Hogwarts, Neville had been blamed for something he hadn't done, causing his grandmother to send a Howler and letting it be known to the greater Hogwarts community that she was an abuser.

At Christmas last year, Rose and Emmett had bought some land from Isa behind Swan Manor that butted up to the road on the other side. They had built their dream home, both magical and muggle, so they could adopt or foster children from the Middle House where Rose worked at Diagon Alley. But when they'd found out about what happened to Neville, they fought tooth and nail to be able to foster him first.

However, we'd found out on our return from school that Neville's grandmother had only sent the bare necessities of his things and nothing of his parents.

That was what we were on our way to do today. Neville had had enough of not being able to set his room up like he wanted and asked us to go with him today to get his things. He knew his grandmother wouldn't like the fact that he was living with vampires, nor that the vampires were so comfortable in the muggle world—something that his grandmother could never be. He'd asked us to travel to their place in London just like a muggle would.

"Are you sure you want to do it like this?" I asked one last time because we were getting close to Neville's house. I looked in the rearview mirror to see Neville in the back seat of my Volvo. Emmett was next to me in the front passenger seat, with Jasper and Carlisle in Carlisle's Mercedes behind us.

"I think it's the only way to do it," Neville murmured as he looked out the window. "She'll not know what to do, or say, with all of you there backing me up. I'm hoping she won't say anything at all. Although, she's going to want to argue until she's black and blue about me taking my parents' things."

I looked over at Emmett, whose thoughts were worried. He had done a lot of growing up since fighting for Neville. He would always be our fun-loving goofball, but he's realized that being a father, having a family, meant he always had a reason to worry.

Emmett sighed. "It could also make her more hostile, Neville. It could make her lash out, and you'll bear the brunt of her anger."

Neville nodded but turned to look Emmett in the eye. "So be it. I want my parents' and my things. I deserve them after everything she's put me through."

"Okay. But we're here for you; remember that." Emmett looked at him.

"I know," Neville said as he opened the door to the car when we pulled up to the curb. "I wouldn't be where I am if not for the support of all of you."

The house Neville's grandmother lived in was what you'd call a townhouse. In fact, the whole street was just townhomes, one after the other, all the way down the street. The fence ran level with the sidewalk, and Neville had already reached the gate before we'd climbed out of the car after him.

By the time we caught up with him—moving at muggle speed because we were being watched—Neville had already made it to the front door. I had expected him to knock before entering—that was the kind of thing I would have expected from his grandmother.

"She's here, right?" Neville asked me, even though he'd already opened the door and taken a few steps inside.

"She is. And from what I can tell, she's in the back of the house."

Neville snorted. "The family room." He looked over the four of us standing in the doorway. "Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?"

With a snort of laughter, we followed Neville through the door and into the house.

Regardless of the fact that Neville's grandmother lived in London, the house was completely sustained by magic. There wasn't one electric item, even in the kitchen. I sure hope she never invited muggles over.

"Grandmother?" Neville called as he entered the family room and stood in front of her. "I believe you have some things of mine."

There was a derisive lady-like snort from the wingback chair facing the backyard. "There is nothing here that belongs to you. Everything I didn't send I bought with my own money. Anything of your parents belongs to me because he was my son first."

Wow. What a crotchety old woman. Jasper shook his head. She's a piece of work. How the hell did Neville grow up to be what he is when he had this at home?

"An age old question, Jasper," I murmured, looking over to him.

Carlisle stepped in before Neville could say something he might regret. Although, I'm not sure he would have. "Excuse me, ma'am. But usually when someone passes away, or ends up in hospital, the child becomes the benefactor of what is left from them. You became his guardian, holding those things for him, not to keep them from him."

"Is that so? And who do you think you …" Neville's gran stood up rather gracefully for an elderly lady. "Vampires! You brought vampires into my house, boy?"

Neville stood up straight and faced her head on. "These are the people who took me in when your despicable behavior took me away from you. In fact, Emmett"—he pointed at our big burly brother—"is my new foster father. I'm entitled to my things, and my parents' things, and I am going to take them. If you try and stop me, you'll have to go through him."

With the confirmation from Neville, Emmett stood straighter, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared down Neville's gran, who took a small involuntary step backward. Carlisle decided he was going to stay down with Emmett and try to talk to Neville's gran about having some sort of relationship with her grandson. I snorted; he couldn't even manage to have a relationship with me; what made him think he was the right person to talk to her? Maybe it would help him see what he was doing wrong?

Neville spun and nodded his head in Jasper's and my direction, indicating we should follow him up the stairs. We walked up to the next floor where the bedrooms were located and down the hall to the last door on the left.

"This was my room," Neville said as he opened the door to a bland room. There were a few things that indicated this was a young boy's room: posters, flyers, flags, and the like. But after that, the room could be a guest room. There were no personal touches, no pictures of family, nothing that would indicate that someone loved had lived here.

I watched as Neville looked around the room in front of him, seeing what he saw when he looked it over. "There isn't much I want to take from here, just my posters and things. What I really want is this way."

We followed him to the door opposite his room that, when opened, showed us another flight of stairs that led up into a huge attic. This room had been neatly organized by someone who happened to have a touch of OCD because, from what I could see at a glance, it was done so in chronological order. The oldest of the boxes, crates really, seemed to be older than Neville's gran, meaning that this house was a lot like Isa's. A family estate. This family kept their history safe. Even if they moved, they took their precious memories with them and stored them by year to remember their history. It was something that was rare now in the muggle world. People didn't really safeguard their history, other than on social media, handing them down to their own family members. And sometimes, even when they did, those family members didn't appreciate what they were being given.

Neville walked over to a pile of boxes that were dated fourteen years ago and had seen better days. In fact, it looked like more than one of them had been rummaged through. I think his gran had more to answer for than just keeping these things from him. Neville shook his head, clearly angry. "My gran boxed up everything that belonged to my parents." He snorted. "When I was younger, I was so alone. Or at least, I felt like that. I used to come up here to play in Dad's jeweled dress robes, and feel close to my …"

Jasper felt the spike of anger and despair before Neville dove into the top box, pulling things out and throwing them all over the place. When he couldn't find what he was looking for, he moved onto the next box.

"Neville … wait! What are you doing?" I had to dodge a piece of moth-eaten clothing that came flying in my direction before an empty box followed. "Neville?"

"Just wait!" he growled. "She's been through these, but she can't have sold everything. Please, she can't have sold them!"

Jasper looked over at me and shrugged. He needs to feel this. I'd like to help him, but he's been holding so much back because of her. Let him.

I nodded in agreement, but just as I did, Neville sunk to the floor, holding a tattered, damaged wooden box. We came to sit on the floor with him in support as he looked up at us. He took a deep breath before he slowly opened the lid and releasing it in a gush when he found whatever he had been looking for.

"Neville? Are you okay?" Jasper asked gently.

He sagged back against the few boxes that were still in one piece behind him before looking back at us. "Yeah," he sighed. "Yes. These were my parents." He turned the box around to reveal a pair of watches very similar to my own. Only more worn, tattered, and well loved. "They were the only thing given to us after … They were wearing them that night, as far as I know. I just … I would have been so mad." He smacked the floor hard. "She's sold everything of value. I'm just glad she didn't sell these. They were important."

"Then I'm glad you have them, Neville." Jasper snickered as he looked around at the mess Neville had made, which caused me to laugh too. "Before we take everything with us, I think we need to pick all this up, don't you?" Jasper patted him on the shoulder as he stood to start gathering some of the things Neville had thrown around. "Don't worry; your gran doesn't scare us!"

I laughed at the look on his face, as I too stood to start picking up. "Come on, Neville; you know she can't hurt us. We are vampires after all!"

Neville's face flamed with embarrassment. "I do, but I forget so often because you guys don't act like vampires. You're human but, most importantly, family to me."

I bumped his shoulder after picking up some more of the things he'd thrown about. "Then we've done our job right. Even though we don't have to hide what we are, it's nice to know when people see us for who we are. Now, why don't you leave these boxes to Jasper and I, while you go grab a couple of empty ones from the car and pack up your room, okay?"

Neville nodded. "Thanks, Edward."

"No problem. And hey, Neville?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'll grab a few of these other boxes, if that's okay with you?"

Neville nodded before he walked to the stairs. Jasper and I were quiet as we waited until Neville was out of earshot.

"What else are we taking, Edward?" Jasper asked when Neville had reached the flight of stairs that led to the ground floor.

"I think we'll take some of these from when he was a baby. Memories that he might not remember but ones he should have all the same. It's something we all were denied when we were changed. But I'm not letting him miss out on them."

Jasper looked at me while he sampled my emotions. "Then you pick which ones we take and stack them by the stairs while I finish picking up. We'll make sure Neville has all the memories he deserves."

"Good." As I searched through some of the boxes that were marked from around the time Neville was born, I tuned into what was going on downstairs.

I snorted to myself while shaking my head. It seemed that Carlisle was able to see the faults in others, and could even try to talk them into changing their minds, yet couldn't see the problem in himself. Although, if what I was reading in his mind was correct, it seemed he was connecting the dots more and more.

Maybe he would be able to apologize to me, and actually mean it, before long. I hoped so.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Jasper asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I frowned, looking up, because I wasn't sure what he was talking about. "What's happening downstairs? Amazing that he can see her but not himself."

"I was just thinking about that. But it seems times might be changing."

Jasper nodded. "Good thing. Are those what we're taking?"

"Yeah, these, and those four over there. I think he deserves some from his ancestors too. Let's get them loaded up."

Jasper and I each grabbed a few boxes each before we marched down the stairs, almost crashing into Neville as he walked out of his room. He laughed at how weighed down we were. "I didn't mean for you to grab them all in one go!"

I laughed at his comment. "We didn't. There're still more in there. Are you all done?"

"Yeah. Jasper can you handle the last of the boxes? I want Edward downstairs for a few minutes."

"Sure. Though, why don't you send Carlisle up to give me a hand?" Jasper sent him a wave of calm. "Don't want to overload your gran, now do we?"

Neville just shrugged before leading the way to the stairs to the ground floor. Jasper and I followed him. I placed my boxes on the floor at the bottom of the stairs before turning and following Neville over to where his gran had retaken her seat and was studiously trying to ignore Carlisle's attempts at communication. She was nothing, if not, stubborn.

Carlisle sighed when he saw us come forward. He stood, nodded at us, and then passed us before going and collecting the boxes I had placed in the foyer. I stood with Emmett off to the side while we waited for Neville to collect his thoughts to confront his gran.

It wasn't until Jasper and Carlisle had walked back up the stairs that Neville stood in front of his gran, ready to say what he wanted. "I can't believe you, Grandmother. In all this time, I thought you were looking after me, but what you were really doing was robbing me blind. For hundreds of years, the family heirlooms, and everything about this family, was handed down from father to son." Neville flung down something in front of his gran on the floor. It took me a moment to realize they were photos of his parents dressed to the nines.

"I went through those boxes, Gran. You've sold everything that was of value to my parents. Everything except their watches." Gran flinched, which caused me to listen in on her thoughts. I frowned because it seemed she had sold them and hadn't expected them to be among those things. "When Grandfather died, everything was handed down to my dad, and had he passed, it would have been handed to me. Considering my parents are still alive, that means this house, and everything in it, is theirs until either they wake up or I turn of age."

Neville had started pacing back and forth, waiting for his gran to say something, but she was stubbornly refusing. "So, as my parents' only heir, I'm assuming control of everything. You have an hour to pack your belongings before leaving. I am locking up this house until either they wake up, or I turn of age." He snorted as she glared up at him. "And don't worry, your bags will be checked before you leave, just to make sure you don't take anything you aren't entitled to."

Neville watched as she stood from her chair without saying a word. When she stood, she was almost half a foot shorter than her fourteen-year-old grandson. She glared up at him with nothing but contempt before turning and walking away without saying a damn word. We were quiet as she made her way to a bedroom on the first floor.

"You'll keep an eye on her, Edward?" Neville asked.

"You didn't need to ask. I was going to do it anyway. I think, though, if you're going to seal this place up, you should get someone who knows how to do that," I suggested.

"Yeah. I'll go write to Mr. Weasley; he should know how to do that."

"Think he's gonna be okay?" Emmett asked me when Neville had walked through to the dining room to find some paper and a quill.

I thought about it while watching his gran pack her bags. I nodded before I answered. "With time, he will be. He needs the support we can offer him. And with that and time, he'll be fine."

For the next little bit while Carlisle and Jasper packed the boxes in the car, and Gran packed only her belongings because Emmett went to stand in her open door, we were all quiet. In fact, nothing was said until there was a knock on the door. I answered the door since everyone else was busy, except Neville, who was standing in his parents' room, just soaking in what was left of them.

"Hey, Arthur, glad you could make it."

"Morning, Edward. Neville was rather vague in his letter, just asking me to get here. What's going on, and what does he need?"

I led Arthur into the house and down the hall to the family room. "Neville is removing his gran from this house before she sells everything out from underneath him. What he wants to do is seal this place up so nobody can get back in until he comes of age or his parents wake up, as small a chance as that might be."

"Ahh, and he doesn't want Gran to know how to get into this place after she's gone." He nodded in the direction of her room and Emmett.

"Exactly. Can you do that?"

"Yes. That won't be a problem, but I do want to talk to him first. Where is he?"

I pointed to the stairs. "Up the flight, second door on your right."

"Thanks, Edward."

I tried my best to stay out of their conversation because I wanted Neville to be able to explain things his way, and he seemed to be holding his own. I walked over to Emmett and gazed into the bedroom to see that Gran had finished packing and was just sitting on the bed. She was forlorn and wondered what she was going to do now. But the one thing she was thinking was that she wasn't sorry, not for any of it.

"Have you got somewhere to stay?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

She snorted delicately. "Like you animals care. You're letting my grandson kick me out of my home."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't care. I wouldn't have a family, or a mate, if I didn't have feelings or care about others. We wouldn't be here if we didn't care about that boy upstairs. The fact that you can stand there and accuse us of doing the one thing you've been doing is a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

All she did was raise her nose that much farther in the air before turning to look at me dead on. "I did what I thought was best. For …"

"Do not say for Neville. You were doing the best for you. Now I will ask one last time. Do you have somewhere to go?"

"Yes. I have somewhere to go." In her mind I saw a portly witch dressed from head to toe in pink ruffles with a face that looked like—there was really nothing else I could think of—a giant toad.

"Good." I nodded. I stood up and moved out of the way. "Guess it's time for you to go then."

"Aren't you going to check my bags?"

I snorted. "Just like the rest of the wizarding world, you know nothing about what I am or what I can do. I've had my eye on you the whole time you've packed. I know there is nothing in any of those bags that doesn't belong to you because if you had, I would have come in and taken it from you."

She deflated a little as she looked at me. "Oh."

I nodded. "Yes, oh. Now, is this everything?" Neville's gran nodded in my direction, then skittered back a few steps when I drew my wand. "Really?" I asked sarcastically. "You think I'm gonna hurt you now? I've had all morning to hurt you, and nothing would have stopped me if I'd wanted to." I shook my head looking over at the woman who had made my friend's life a living hell before looking back at the few bags of clothes and trinkets she'd packed. I waved my wand at them while saying, "Reducio."

All of the bags she'd packed shrunk down to a size that would easily fit into her rather large handbag without causing her too much trouble. "There you go. I suggest you pack those away, then make your way out of Neville's house. I'm not sure how much longer he's going to be accommodating to your stalling tactics. He isn't going to let you stay here, and after everything you've done to him, I'm not at all surprised."

I walked out after that, leaving her under the watchful eye of Emmett, and made my way to the bottom of the staircase where Neville and Arthur were coming down.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Weasley. I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you're doing," Neville said as he stepped off the bottom step.

"It's not a problem, Neville. You know that, and please call me Arthur. But, one last time, are you sure you want to do this? Throw her out and lock the place down?" Arthur had stopped next to me but turned to face Neville.

"I am. I want her out of this place before she empties it of everything my family has held dear. She's sold just about everything that belonged to my parents."

I tuned them out as Emmett and Neville's gran caught my attention. Emmett was escorting her to the door, but doing his level best to let her know that if she wanted to try to maintain any sort of relationship with her grandson she could contact him at the McCarty Home, either by owl or the floo network. Emmett was frustrated that she didn't seem to be listening and gave up when she walked through the door without acknowledging him. But what he didn't realize was she was listening; she was just sticking to her guns and ignoring the people throwing her out of her home.

Emmett's face was crestfallen when he spun back to me. However, he changed it just before Neville could see. Do you think she'll make contact or at least try to have some sort of relationship with him?

I shook my head slightly. To me, Neville's gran seemed to be as stubborn as a mule. For now, she'd made up her mind, and there wasn't a damn thing we were going to be able to do to change it.

Damn, Emmett sighed in his head. Who'd have thought the wizards were as hardheaded as the muggles.

I chuckled silently as Emmett made his way over to me. "I think they're actually worse in some aspects."

Yeah, I noticed that too.

"Is everything ready?" Arthur asked when he realized Emmett was here with us, and Jasper and Carlisle were coming down the stairs.

Carlisle nodded while Jasper answered. "Yep, these are the last of the boxes. Once we're all outside, it's all down to you. We can give you a ride home, if you'd like? Are you finished at the Ministry for the day?" Jasper asked with a chuckle laced through his last question because Arthur had never ridden in a newer vehicle before, and his face had broken out in a large smile.

"Yes, I have, and yes, I'd love a lift with you guys. That'll be brilliant!" Arthur answered excitedly.

"Good." I laughed. "Then let's get going, shall we. We'll load up in the cars while you do your stuff."

Arthur nodded and followed all of us to the front door. We left him there as Neville joined Emmett and me in my Volvo, while Jasper and Carlisle placed the last of the boxes in the cars before they climbed into Carlisle's Mercedes. It didn't take Arthur long to finish sealing up Neville's home, and once he was done, he joined Carlisle and Jasper.

The ride home was reminiscent of the one there. Neville was quiet while Emmett and I spoke silently and quickly, leaving Neville to his thoughts. Emmett was concerned about how Neville was going to handle the last disconnect from his family, and I couldn't ease his mind about how Neville would handle it. My last bit of advice for him, as we pulled up into the driveway of their home, was that if he was truly worried, then he should get Neville to talk to Esme. She'd helped us deal with all of our changes at different parts of our lives, and if anyone could help Neville, she would be the ideal one. But, in the meantime, just be there for him, for whatever he needed.

Neville was dead on his feet by the time we'd finished unloading all of his things and decided he was going to go to bed early. Carlisle and Jasper had already left, so Emmett and Rose walked me to the door.

"Thank you, Edward, for everything you did for Neville," Rose said as I walked through the door.

"It wasn't a problem. Neville is my family as much as you are. We look after our own." I nodded. "You know where I am, where any of us are, if you need us. Don't hesitate, okay?"

They both nodded before going back inside. I shook my head as I climbed into my car. It was going to be a long road for all of us, but I was pretty sure Neville would be much better now than he had been before.

~*~UHS~*~

"So, how did things go with Daddy?" Isa asked, sitting next to me at the piano a couple days after we went to get Neville's things. She had turned on our Bubble Lamp to give us complete privacy.

I shrugged and continued to play for a little bit, enjoying the silence that came with the lamp. Even though there were fewer of us here since Emmett and Rose moved out, it could still get loud, though less so during the day.

"Seeing Neville's gran seemed to be a bit of a wake-up call for him. He could see traces of himself in her, and it shook him to his core. He hasn't reconciled it all yet, but he's getting there."

Isa hugged my arm. "He has seemed to be a bit introspective since you returned. Do you think he'll apologize and mean it soon?"

"He had meant it the other times, but he didn't think he was wrong. It's that apology and admittance I'm waiting on. But to answer your question, I do believe he will; he just needs to reconcile it."

"Good, that's good."

We sat quietly for a little longer with the Bubble Lamp on until there was a knock on the door. Isa stood, placing her hand on the lamp to turn it off, before making her way to our bedroom door.

"Remus!" Isa squealed as she launched herself into his arms. "I'm so glad you could make it today!"

I chuckled along with Remus at her excitement as I stood from the piano and made my way over to shake his hand. "It's good to see you."

"You as well. Although, I'm not sure I had a choice but to come. A pesky little blue owl wouldn't leave our home this morning until we stepped into the fireplace." Remus laughed at Isa's mock innocent face. "But I was going to come see you anyway. Can we talk privately for a minute?"

"Sure, come on in." Remus walked in and closed the door behind him. To give him complete privacy, Isa turned the lamp back on. Remus and the others had been shown the lamps after Isa had made them. In fact, they had put in orders for their own when we managed to get our hands on some more. "What can we do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know that Sirius and James had to be told about your potion—the one that has managed to change me into an animagus—after what happened at Hogwarts." He looked at us to see if we followed before he continued. "But I haven't told them how it's been happening. Oh, they've asked, begged, and pleaded to know, but until it's confirmed that it's permanent, I don't want to get their hopes up."

"I can understand that," I murmured. "Have you skipped a month, you know, to test it?"

Remus shook his head. "Not yet. I thought I'd wait a year and see what happens. I don't feel any different from month to month, and I can't feel it wearing off, but a year seems like the right span of time."

"That seems fair, and you're the one testing it, so whatever you think is best," I agreed. "I can see that you're happy about it though."

Isa and I chuckled at the fast nodding Remus did. "You can't believe how thankful I am for what you've done. I'll be in your debt forever."

"Uh, no." I shook my head. "You did the same thing for us when you created the potions for us to eat, return to our normal eye color, and the rest. Let's call this even."

Isa snorted. "Maybe one day you can open a shop and sell them all, Edward. All of the potions you two have created will make the world a better place."

We both looked over at her. We didn't have to look down too far because my girl had had another growth spurt. In fact, as she sat there next to me, the top of her head reached my shoulder. It wasn't the first time she had said this to me, but it was the first time I had taken her seriously because of what we were about to do.

"Maybe one day, my sweet girl, but not today."

She laughed. "No, not today. For now, it's time to go downstairs. We have things to do."

~*~UHS~*~

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked from the back of the small group we had with us. "I mean, we're here in Diagon Alley, but why?"

I laughed. "Be patient, man! We'll be there shortly, then Isa and I will explain all. I promise!"

He's as impatient as Emmett is. Isa giggled in her thoughts while she shook her head in Sirius's direction. I can't imagine what he would have been like waiting for a new game or something to come out on all those ecletrics … uh, ecletricks … no, eletics …

I thought about it for a second. "Electrics?"

Yeah, duh. Isa face-palmed. Those things and the plastic things that play games.

"Game consoles? Like the PlayStation and the Xbox?" I chuckled.

You muggles have silly names for things. She huffed as she rolled her eyes at me with a smirk on her face.

I chuckled at her faux upset. "Us muggles? I'm no muggle. I'm a wizard! But, Emmett? He was terrible. And if he didn't get it right away, he was like a bear with a thorn in his foot!"

You mean he'd get grumpy? I watched her thought process as she tried to imagine a grumpy Emmett.

I laughed. "He was worse than that."

"I just can't see it!" She laughed. "He's never been grumpy around me."

"It doesn't matter!" A voice chimed into our conversation even thought they had no idea what we were talking about. "Are we there yet?"

"No, Shane. But give us a minute."

When we walked toward Alice's storefront, Shane, Sirius, and Remus all frowned. But then they looked relieved when we walked past it and stood in front of the publishing house Isa and I had bought last summer. There had only been a few changes since we'd painted and prepared for our opening, and that was to place a couple of counters inside the shop area, and a sign had been placed on the shopfront.

I had to give the sign makers credit—it was beautiful. A white sign with a cast iron chain and cast iron molding around the edge, including some incredible filigree work, was stunning. Isa had given the makers a copy of the image we wanted printed on our newspaper, and they had placed it on the bottom of the sign, right below …

"The Masen Printing Consortium?" Remus, Sirius, and Shane all blurted out together. "What are we doing here?" Remus continued.

"We have a surprise for you three," Isa said as she unlocked the door. "It's something we've been planning for a while now. Well, that's not true; it's something we've had in mind since Edward had overheard a thought last year. It just took time, and we didn't have much of that through the year."

I snorted. "That and one of you was busy with something else all last year so we couldn't get it implemented."

They were all in awe at the way we'd had the front rooms converted to accommodate the newspaper side and the museum.

"Okay, you have us all intrigued," Sirius stated, continuing to look around. "Stop being so cryptic and answer Remus's question. What are we doing here?"

I looked around at the men who had become my family, who supported Isa and me, no matter what. I was so happy I was going to be able to do something for them.

"Last summer when the Daily Prophet was reporting on Gilderoy Lockhart's adventures, I mentioned that I was surprised they were telling the truth. Shane, you had a thought. Do you remember what it was?"

Isa wandered around, straightening things up to her liking while we waited for Shane to circle through his thoughts. Wizard memories were good, but they were still only human, and as such, smaller memories were often forgotten.

"Um … I think it was something along the lines of wishing we had a paper that would tell the truth all the time," Shane murmured thoughtfully before snapping his gaze over to me.

I nodded. "But with what I think is coming, it might be best if we work behind the scenes for now."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked quietly.

I could see I had confused them. They were expecting me to jump straight in to wanting to print a paper, one that consisted of telling the truth, but I had thought about this a lot. During the Second World War, papers that reported differently than what the occupiers wanted you to say were closed down and the journalists incarcerated. They were vandalized, sometimes burnt to the ground, and I didn't want that to happen to our paper when the time came.

I explained that to them, getting their attention, and then their realization about what had happened. "I think the best thing to do would be to invite people here to publish anything they want: books, magazines etc. We need something to hide what we plan to do here."

"You want to print the truth on a simple page, don't you?" Shane stated, more than asked. "Use our contacts, and those who print here, to slip those pages into their work so it gets out there without anyone knowing where it's coming from?"

I shook my head. "Not use; I'd never use anyone. But have like-minded people here who are willing to slip that flyer into their products before distribution. I'd even like to see if we can get it into the Daily Prophet before it goes out."

"By keeping it hidden, we can keep it under the radar, which means it'll be harder for the Ministry to shut us down when they don't like what we print." Remus nodded. "I like it a lot. What do you want us to do here?"

"So what I want to do is put on a front here of an actual publishing house. Shane, I want you to run it. You'll be lead editor and will help run the front until we get busy. Sirius, you will be the main reporter. Mostly because you'll be able to use your animagus form to your advantage. Nobody is going to think twice if there's a big, black, shaggy dog hanging around. And, Remus, we know what is coming. Get in contact with anyone who will be on our side, and then contact people who would like to use our presses and allow us to slip a flyer into their product. And maybe, if you're good, get a contact inside the Prophet, so we can slip flyers into their paper, telling the truth.

"What do you think?"

It was Remus's turn to snort while shaking his head. "Edward, you and Isa are positively diabolical. I wish we'd had your cunning mind when we fought Voldemort the first time; we might have won sooner. But you're right. This is something we can do, and I already have a few ideas on who I can contact for a few of those things."

"Why me?" Shane asked. "Wouldn't Remus be better at running this place than me?"

I shook my head. "It was your thought, your realization that you wanted it, that will make you work hard to get it right. That's why you're the better person to run it. Do you need to ask why for yours, Sirius?"

"No!" He laughed. "I know I don't have the patience for running the paper, and I'm better out in the field, so reporter actually fits me. And if I live out at Hogsmeade, I'll have better and easier access to the wizarding community. Gossip runs rampant in places like that."

"Excellent!" I clapped my hands and looked over at Isa's beaming face. "Time to talk salaries."

"Salaries!" Shane and Sirius laughed. "Are you mad? I want in!"

It took me a minute to get what they were saying because their thoughts were excited. Once I did, though, I was a little concerned. "Are you sure? What if we're targeted and the ministry finds out? I'm not sure they'll come after a vampire and a Veela."

Remus nodded. He couldn't afford to buy in and was happy with a salary, but he wouldn't deny his friends. Although I had an idea about that. "I agree with Edward. We can't have you guys being sent to Azkaban after all."

"What about silent partners?" Isa piped up. "Would that work?"

I nodded thoughtfully. "It would, Isa. And, Remus, I have a plan for you to be able to buy in through a salary. You interested?"

"You bet. Let's hash out the details." Remus smiled.

We walked into the conference room and spent most of the afternoon, after ordering lunch, hashing—arguing—over how much Shane and Sirius wanted to pay to buy in, and how much of Remus's weekly wage would go to pay for his part of the deal. Eventually, at nearly dinnertime, we settled on an amount, with the agreement that we could change it later when things were better.

We all walked out of there happy.

~*~UHS~*~

I was having a quiet day at home by myself. Isa was over at Emmett and Rose's place hanging out with Neville, Harry, and Hermione. Esme was helping out at Alice's store, and Jasper was hunting—he had been craving the feel of the hunt, not so much the blood itself.

And of course, Carlisle was at St. Mungo's, starting at the bottom. He had finally taken all of the advice we'd given him, and Isa's beautiful Christmas present, and put it all to use at the hospital. The nurses, and other doctors, were so proud of him for swallowing his pride and not only admitting that he didn't know everything but for asking for help to learn everything he could. Once he'd done that, he had become a much happier person. He was learning again, and everything was new. In fact, he'd come to me with a heartfelt apology for everything he'd put not only me but all of us through over the years of repeating high school over and over again.

I was hoping that it could be the start of a new relationship for us. We'd have to wait and see.

It was a rare thing that I could read for my own enjoyment, but I was doing just that, catching up with some of my favorite authors like Matthew Reilly, Dean Koontz, and Clive Cussler. I was relaxing, reading the latest in the Jack West Jr. series, when I was interrupted by the frantic thoughts of Harry, screaming through the back yard. Instead of waiting for him to make it inside, I used my speed and met him on the back porch. Harry was out of breath when he met me, bending over and putting a hand on his knee, the other clutching his side, trying to breathe deeply. But his thoughts were still frantic.

I helped him stand to take deeper breaths, and then led him to the table and chairs on the back verandah where he sat with the fingers on his right hand starting to rub the scar on his forehead. "Harry, what is it? What's wrong?"

Harry panted for a while longer before he collapsed back against the chair he was sitting on. "We'd been watching a movie, over there, at Emmett's. I don't remember what it was because I fell asleep, but I had a dream, and it freaked me out because I don't know if it was a dream! And on top of that, I was woken up by my scar—it was hurting; it still does!"

Harry's breathing started to speed back up, he was sweating but shivering at the same time, and I could hear that his heart was racing. Harry was diving fast into a panic attack, and I could hear Isa, Hermione, and Neville approaching. I helped Harry, as best I could, into a comfortable position before getting up and walking a short distance away.

"Isa," I called to her knowing she could hear me. "Take Neville and Hermione inside. I have to help Harry through this, and he won't be able to with all of you watching. You'll be able to hear what's being said, so keep the others filled in, okay?"

Okay, Edward. Is Harry okay?

"He will be." I heard Isa stop and wait for the others to catch up before she led them the long way around to the front of the house. I walked back to Harry and sat down beside him. "It's okay, Harry. We'll work it out. Shh, shh." I kept whispering nonsensical calming words to him until he was able to calm down and stretch himself out. "Are you calmer now?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, I am. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, you had a dream that you weren't sure was a dream? And you woke up because your scar started to hurt. Is that right?" Harry nodded, slowly. "Do you want to tell me or show me?"

"I think showing you might be easier because I'm not sure I fully understood it."

"We can do that. Whenever you're ready."

It took Harry a few minutes before he was calm enough to close his eyes and start to replay his dream, or whatever it was, for me to look at.

When Harry's dream started, I realized we were really close to the ground, almost upon it, but that wasn't the reason it took me so long to figure out what kind of building we were in. It was the fact that the details kept blinking in and out of focus, and when they were in focus, the image was a mash of grays, blues, and blacks. Eventually, due to the fact that I could only see objects at the last minute, I was able to make out cupboards, chairs, a table, and even a rug on the floor. That made it easier to ascertain we were in a house—the kitchen, if I was correct—and that it was very old because it looked like it had been in disrepair for a long time.

After some time, sounds came into focus. It seemed that whatever we were seeing through, its hearing was much better than its eyesight. There was a low hissing pop sound and muffled steps pacing that seemed to be coming from above us, but the one that caught the creature's interest was a plonk-shuffle-plonk noise that was coming from the left of where we lay. We listened for a few moments before an almost silent squeal came from the same direction of the shuffling.

All off a sudden, there was a large, bright yellow, orange, and red blob in our field of vision. It took me a few blinks of sight to work out that we were seeing what a human would look like if we were to see them through a heat imager. No wonder Harry was confused. The blob moved slowly, as if trying to make the least amount of noise possible. But what I noticed was that it had a hunched form and seemed to be balancing on what looked to be a cane; all of this told me that the person—probably male—sneaking into this house was quite elderly.

The animal lay in wait until the human had passed it, then it picked up its head and slowly, ever so slowly, moved along behind the human. What struck me as odd, at first, was how the animal moved. It seemed to glide across the floor in a side-to-side motion. Well, it was odd until I figured out we were seeing through the eyes of a very large snake.

It all made sense now, how the sight flickered in and out. How most of it was viewed through what looked like a heat sensor, and how you could only make out the details of things around you at the last second. It all coincided with a snake sensing the world around him, or her, with their tongue. It also made sense that the hearing was better than what a human would have, but only just.

That was never more obvious as we silently and slowly followed the older gentleman up an old flight of stairs. The higher we got, the clearer the sounds that had come from above us became. Starting with the hissing pop sounds of what I now recognized as a fireplace in use. And the muffled steps? Pacing? Were exactly that. As the old man rounded the corner on the stairs and began the last flight up, he paused, then shuffled closer as quietly as he could. The reason being that we could now hear voices coming from behind the door that was cracked in front of us.

"There is a little more in the bottle, my Lord. If you are still hungry," said a slimy, shaking, male voice. One that was distinctly familiar.

"Later," another male voice replied, strangely high-pitched and as cold as a blast of icy wind. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail."

God, no. He didn't really go back to Voldemort. Surely we didn't release him to his master. I closed my eyes both to hide the regret from Harry and to concentrate more on what he was showing me.

There was the plonk of a bottle and the scraping of a chair being moved before the cold voice of Voldemort spoke again. "Where is Nagini?"

"I-I don't know, my Lord," Pettigrew replied nervously. "She set out to explore the house, I think …"

Lord Voldemort interrupted Pettigrew's rambling. "You will milk her before we retire. I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

The snake, who I now thought might be Nagini, watched as the old gentleman leaned closer to the open door to hear better what was being said.

"My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

Lord Voldemort's cold voice hummed, as if he were thinking about his answer. "A week, perhaps more. This place is … moderately comfortable, but the plan cannot proceed until the Quidditch World Cup."

I snickered quietly to myself when the poor gentleman in front of us stuck his finger in his ear, no doubt trying to figure out what he had heard. And then I watched him do it again, and harder, when Wormtail asked about the Quidditch World Cup before stating that he didn't understand why they were waiting until the Cup was over.

"Because, fool," Voldemort hissed, "very soon, wizards from all over the world will be pouring into the country, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty. They'll be watching for any unusual activity, checking, double-checking, and triple-checking all identities. The Ministry will be obsessed with security lest the muggles notice anything. For that reason, we wait."

For a few minutes, everything was quiet, apart from the shuffling of things being moved around in the room in front of us. Then, once again, Pettigrew spoke. "Your Lordship is still determined, then? I-I mean there is another way, a way without Harry Potter."

"Wormtail, I am determined. And without Harry Potter … Hmm, I see …"

"My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy! The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard—any wizard—the thing could be done so much more quickly. If you allowed me to leave you for a short while, I could be back here in as little as two days because you know I can disguise myself most effectively …"

"I could use another wizard, this is true. But I wonder, Wormtail, if this eagerness to leave, to fetch a substitute, is because you have grown weary of nursing me? Could this suggestion of abandonment be nothing more than a plan to desert me?" Voldemort growled.

I had never heard anyone back-pedal, and suck up, faster than Pettigrew when he was trying to keep his boss-man from being mad at him. If it weren't so sad, it would have been funny.

"Do not lie to me!" Voldemort hissed. "I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I disgust you. I can see you flinch every time you look at me and feel you shudder when you touch me! You are here out of cowardice and nothing more. Because I know that if you had anywhere else to go, you would not be here. But …" He sighed. "I need you. Who else would feed me every few hours? Who would milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, my Lord …"

I could hear Voldemort breath harshly through his nose. "You are a liar! I am no stronger, and a few days alone would rob me of what strength I do have. Silence!" He growled before he continued. "I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you. I will use no other! I have waited thirteen years; a few more months will make no difference. It matters not the protection surrounding him because I believe my plan will work. As long as you have a little courage, Wormtail, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath …"

We watched the older gentleman listen for a few more minutes as Pettigrew and Voldemort continued to talk about a witch who had gone missing, thanks to them. Lord Voldemort mentioned that he had another servant who was smarter, cleverer, than Wormtail could ever hope to be, even if Wormtail had found Voldemort himself.

I saw the moment the gentleman in front of us worked out that these two had plans to kill Harry because he twitched, as if preparing himself to make his way out of the hallway. And I'm sure he would have had Voldemort not spoken again. Only this time, what he said really caught my attention.

"One more curse … my faithful servant at Hogwarts … Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided, and there will not be more argument. Quiet! I think I hear Nagini …"

With the sound of its name, the large snake we were still seeing through started her path up the final stairs and past the gentleman who had frozen at the sight of us. As the snake passed him, Lord Voldemort started hissing in what I knew was Parseltongue. "Come, Nagini, we have things to discuss." Voldemort paused while we spoke to him as we made our way in through the open door. "Nagini has some interesting news, Wormtail."

We slithered into the room, around a large armchair, before we curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace.

"In-indeed, my Lord?"

"According to Nagini, the old muggle caretaker, Frank Bryce, is standing right outside this room, and he has heard every word we have said. Invite him in."

Pettigrew wrenched open the door, almost causing the man behind it to fall through, before he pulled him inside.

"Spin my chair around, Wormtail." Nagini lifted its head in time to see the grimace on Pettigrew's face before he spun the chair around. We didn't get to see what Lord Voldemort looked like as the chair was already turned when I focused back on it. But whatever the man saw made him scream, scream so loud that even Nagini's hearing didn't pick up when either Lord Voldemort or Pettigrew cast Avada Kedavra. All Nagini saw was the bright green light flash before the old man fell to the floor.

I was pulled violently out of Harry's dream, or vision, and back to the veranda on our house. Harry was sitting there, staring nervously at me. "That was when I woke up with my scar screaming at me. What do you think?"

I sighed, slumping back in my seat across from Harry. "I don't know. I'm not sure if it was a vision or a dream, but I think we need to find out what happened to him."

"What do you think happened to him?" Harry asked, although from his tone of voice, I think he already knew.

"That flash of green light said it all. Poor Frank is dead."

Harry nodded and looked out over the back yard. "If we're going to look for Frank Bryce and what happened to him, where do we start?"

"I think …" A voice interrupted us from the back door, causing me to smile my girl's way.

"The best place to start should be the last place we should look, the last place Voldemort would expect us to look."

"Where's that, pretty girl?"

"Little Hangleton. Home of Tom Riddle the first."

~*~UHS~*~

The conversation between Voldemort and Wormtail/Pettigrew was borrowed from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter one, Pages 12 – 19. I have changed some of it around to fit my purposes.

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So? We're back to it, and things are already starting out with a bang. I cannot wait to see what you all think of the beginning of this one.

See you Tuesday in my facebook group for teasers, or in a fortnight with a new chapter!