Summary: AU Non-magic HP/Twilight, JC/HP EC/BS, Moving to forks to escape the newly-weds, brother and sister Harry and Bella go to live with their father Charlie. At school, they meet a group of strange people… SLASH

Warnings: Slash, later lemons, and innuendo of many kinds later

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Twilight.

AN: Yay! It's done! I had to really think about what I wanted in this chapter, but I'm pretty proud of my work. Well, no immediate warnings for this chapter, and I hope you enjoy! OH! I have no beta, instead I just read this over twice, maybe a few times more, and try to squeeze out the bad grammar and misspellings. Since I suck at grammar, there are probably a lot of mistakes. Sorry!

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Chapter 1

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Shadows danced across Harry's face as the candle light flickered and danced. He sat alone in his room; his only companions were the sweet aroma the delightful candles gave out. His room in Charlie's house was small, and while he normally hated small spaces from the time he spent with the Dursleys, he found this room charming.

It was slightly empty and too clean for a kid his age, no cloths lying around on the floor, no random trinkets shoved in crevices, and no crumbs of any kind anywhere. Simply books, a laptop, his clothes-filled closet, and his candles.

He remembered when he had first started his obsession with the wax items… He had found one under the floorboards of his little space under the stairs. It had been his 'secret thing' from age five to twelve. Maybe three months after his sixth birthday, he had found matches laying around in the kitchen and had instantly took them to his cubby and lit the candle.

Candles had saved him from that hell-hole of a house. They saved his sanity, or maybe took a bit of it as well, but they had kept his mind off of the things they had done to him, the lack of love and the constant pain.

He used to hold that candle near his nose, feel the heat, smell the scent, mostly of laundry, wafting from the wax, and would imagine that he was somewhere else, that he wasn't stuck in some cupboard under the stairs, that he had parents that loved him, and maybe a sibling or two. He imagined he was loved, and beatings were non-existent.

Then one night the candles saved him once more. He was twelve when they came to the house; police men had been tipped off by three of their neighbors about possible abuse of the little black-sheep of the Dursely's household.

When they first came, it was late in the afternoon—Vernon had finished beating Harry for staining one of his dress shirts when he attempted to iron it with no instruction whatsoever. He had burned him on the back, screaming and hitting him; then when he finished, he tossed him into his cupboard and left him for the night.

As he had grown accustomed to, he took a match—the same one he had used three times already, and tried to re-light it. It burst into flames and he quickly lit the wick.

He only really knew what happened because Rene had told him about the night herself a year later when he could comprehend the situation, what the Police saw and what had transpired that night. All he remembered was imagining he was in a safe place, that he had a family, and he was safe… and the pain.

Rene looked down at the boy flinching from her touch. He was so small for a child of twelve. Her heart broke at the sight of him. Tears pooled in her eyes and she turned back to the stern woman who was helping her adopt him.

"The police had been contacted about possible abuse only three months ago. They came in the late afternoon and had checked around the house. They said they had found nothing out of the ordinary, and that there were no such signs of abuse. The boy had a room apparently, though it turned out their blood-son had two rooms instead of one.

"It was already dark when they started to leave. They said they'd be back in a few days to question little Harry when he got back from his slumber party. They were walking out when one of the officers noticed a flicker of light coming from a cupboard under the stairs."

Rene had tears streaming down her cheeks and it took every ounce of self-control not to sob and pull the child into a hug, tell him sweet things, and take him home right then and there.

It was horrible. The only thought she could think where 'Why?', 'Who could do such a thing?', and 'I can't imagine all that he's been through…'

"When they opened it, Harry was just sitting there holding a candle, eyes closed, they said they thought the Dursleys had killed him. He wasn't moving, he had bruises on his neck, biceps, and wrists, a few cuts on his chest, and he had many scars on his back and had a fresh burn wound on his side."

The woman stopped her story when she saw the child crying as well. Her eyes softened and she turned back to Mrs. Swan. "We have already looked back into your files and your history, and we have no doubt you will take care of the child. We have the papers drawn up and you will have legally adopted this poor child by next month."

Rene nodded her head numbly and walked over to the child. "Harry?" she asked. He didn't look up, but he didn't turn away either. "Harry, I'm going to take you home, okay?" she frowned when the child shuddered. "I'll give you a room, toys of all kinds, and love. I will never bee like those awful monsters that claimed to be your family. Will you be mine?"

Harry lifted his head and looked at the woman with a haunted innocence. "Can I have candles?"

Rene didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she settled for both while she pulled the child to her chest, cradling his head and stroking the black strands. "Oh baby, you can have all the candles you want…"

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He smiled faintly and stood, walking around to blow out the candles, enjoying the slightly suffocating smoke, and walked out into the hall to search for his sister.

"Izzie?" he called out, poking his head into his sister's room, and frowned when he couldn't spot his sister. Pulling his head back, he closed the door and turned to walk down the steps, but froze when he heard voices. Charlie and Izzie were talking… about him…

"…Bells, you can't coddle him forever! We need to do something about his phobia! Anthropophobia (1)? Can he honestly expect to go to school, high school, and not have direct contact with people? I told the principal about it, but she said there's nothing she can do about it—and there's nothing we can do about it!" Charlie stated, and he could tell from his tone he most likely had his hands on his hips.

"Your being cruel Charlie," Bella stated evenly. "You know exactly what he's been through, and he will get over it in time and—"

"Bells, we've been giving him time! We've all been waiting for the day he wouldn't mind going out to a mall and not start shaking or running out on us! We can't just wait around until that day!"

"Stop it!" Bella screamed—he could hear her voice break and he could bet she had tears in her eyes. Harry himself had tears in his eyes, but he tried his hardest to keep them at bay. He knew Charlie never really took to him like he had Bella, his daughter by blood, but it still hurt to hear him talk about him like that…

"Maybe we should go back to Phoenix," Bella murmured. He could hear Charlie start to protest, but was cut off by Bella. "Stop! Yes… I understand that Harry is taking a long time to heal… I admit he is a burden—"

Harry stopped listening, he stopped breathing, and let the tears fall. A burden? Yes… he was a burden, but he thought… well… that Isabella, Bella, his Izzie, would've never thought of him as such. Did she wish she had her parents all to herself? Did she miss the normalcy of walking in a mall and not having to worry about her brother running away? Did she truly think of him as her brother?

The betrayal ran deep, and the doubt he had accumulated but pushed away over the years was all but pouring into his soul. He should've never trusted them. Was he overreacting? He didn't know, but he should've known that they would tire of him some day…

Dark thoughts still flying through his mind, he ran back up the steps, keeping quiet enough that he didn't make too much noise, and ran into his room. He quickly grabbed his backpack, stuffed in a few of the dryer candles, his cigarette lighter (2), and went downstairs and out the door.

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Time seemed to freeze and suddenly start again. He had been running—for how long, he didn't know. He just found himself in a clearing, soft dewy grass, a circle of trees, and a few wild-flowers here and there. It was… morning.

His eyes opened wide—as wide as he could get them. Emerald eyes were sore and puffy from all of the crying he had done the day before, and he slowly started remembering what he had done. He had walked to the woods to the side of the house and simply walked. He had no idea in what direction or for how long, but he could get out somehow.

"Achoo!" Damn, Harry thought, I must've been out all night… and it's rather chilly. Even with the thought of being sick, he didn't wish to go back to the Swans residence. It was so peaceful, people free, and beautiful here.

He smiled lightly and looked at his bag, opening it and taking out a thick beige candle. Quickly, he pulled out the lighter and lit the candle. He was instantly attacked by the scent of caramel.

Should he go back anytime soon? It should be Sunday, and tomorrow will be the first day of school. In other words—he had to go back.

He sighed and pulled his legs under him, sitting Indian-style, and ignored the slush of melted wax falling onto his fingers. It left a beautiful golden shade on his skin. He hardly registered the pain.

Snap.Harry froze and turned his head around as quick as he could, pouring the rest of the melted wax onto his right hand, and winced at the burning feeling, but ignored it once more. He stared out at the woods, all around his small clearing, but found no one.

He contemplated the idea of speaking aloud, but decided against it; lest it be people he had heard. Or maybe Izzie coming to take me back. He ignored the pang in his chest and stared back down at his candle. The thought upset him, yet made him happy at the same time. He felt bad for becoming a burden and chore for Bella, and happy at the thought of his sister.

She was one of the few people he talked to. "Achoo!" he sneezed again, and felt a cold hand rest on his shoulder.

If he weren't so self-conscious and afraid of people (people he didn't know personally) in general, he would've screamed. Instead, he settled for freezing completely and turned around slowly.

They were beautiful. There were two teens, maybe a bit older than himself, and both had deathly pale skin and topaz eyes. Other than that, they were different.

The one with a hand on his shoulder had bronze hair, a little shorter than his own shoulder-length hair, and was a bit messy. He had full lips, pale like his skin, and purple circles under his eyes like he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in days. His jaw was strongly set, he had slim shoulders, and a cold touch.

The other, a few feet away, had an intense look of curiosity on his handsome features. Like the bronze-haired teen, he too had dark circles under his eyes. He had high cheek-bones and a slight-pointed chin. His lips were slightly thin, and he had soft-looking wavy blonde hair resting just below his jaw.

"How long have you been out here?" the bronze-haired one asked, and he reluctantly looked away from the blonde creature to the one to his right.

He opened his mouth slightly, then froze. What if they were like them? With that thought in mind, he simply gave him a shaky smile and started to stand. The two strangers watched him get up and he nervously blew out his candle.

Calmly as he could, he put his candle back into his bag and shouldered it. He glanced up to see both people staring at him and felt like a cornered mouse. There was something about them… they were different from anyone he had ever met, not like he had met a lot of people in his Anthropophobia life.

He gave them a shy smile before turning around as calm-paced as he could and started to walk away. He prayed, prayed that they would leave him alone, let him walk back home and take a nice long nape, maybe take some medicine and—

"Achoo!" He sneezed, his head bowed and his left index finger under his nostrils. Damn, he thought, hearing the other two people walk over to him once more. He considered running, but once again his self-consciousness prevented him from looking like an idiot.

"Hey, you must've been out here longer than you thought," the bronze-haired one said, moving to stand on his left while the blonde stood somewhere behind him. The teen gave him a slightly worried look, then glance behind Harry to the other gorgeous teen. They seemed to come to some silent agreement as Mr. Bronze gave him a soft smile.

"My name is Edward Cullen and the guy over there is my brother Jasper. You must be one of the people who just moved here over the summer. Our father is a doctor, and I'd feel much better making sure that you're safe and healthy, and I'm sure your family would wish so as well."

Harry wished desperately to just run away, pull out a candle and hunker down in his closet—he had purposely cleaned out a small section large enough to sit himself in the dark small space for times like this. Times when he wanted to get away…

The blonde, Jasper, had walked over to him and given him a warm smile, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Please come? If not for your own personal health, then for our peace of mind?" he asked, and Harry felt calm. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad…?

Blushing slightly he looked to the ground and shrugged before nodding his head. He felt like he could trust these people… these people who had cornered him just moments before—theses people who he had previously wanted to run away from.

His brows furrowed and he was swept with confusion. He felt like he shouldn't trust these two… but for some reason, he just did.

He missed the glance the two brothers shared and he was suddenly being led away, and he had to wonder what in the world he had just done to deserve this!

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This is the phobia or fear of people or crowds

He carries a lighter instead of a normal lighter (made/meant for candles) because he takes candles with him almost everywhere and a cigarette lighter is less bulky than the other types.

Weeeell! Hope you guys liked it! I got out of the gym quick, but my legs are so fucking sore right now! I had severe anemia, and I had gotten used to not doing anything at all, and suddenly running two miles and cycling and other shit? Yeah, not a good idea…

And thank you all who reviewed! And I would like to stress that THIS FIC DOES NOT CONTAIN MAGIC, but it will have other characters from the HP series. I'm sorry to disappoint those who don't like non-magic fics, but if it makes you feel better, Harry will be different and eventually turned to a Vampire with a secret ability.

(Cookies to anyone who can guess what that secret ability will be!)

Reviews are loved!

Kaiki karai kibun