Sorry for the late update. I really am a slow writer, aren't I? I'll try to update faster, so no worries! And the next update should be up sooner, though, since it's already half-written.

Again, HUGE thank you for everyone who reviewed! - E J ect, ArrancarMaiden, LunaScamander17, Wondering, Aaron Leach, Sheened, A TwiHard 88, ee, BabLe7, PinkIsMyColor, Penny is wise, Rhianon Cullen, amata0221, OoOXylionOoO, SupaCrazee, TNM-Writer and 0Harry. J. Potter0 !

Words : 4732

DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot.

Thank you for LadyLiterary for beta-ing this chapter!

A pair of emerald eyes shone brightly as Harry, for the first time, actually saw the world. He was now free, with nothing pinning him down, no responsibility to take care of, no arch-nemesis around to antagonize him. All that was left for him to conquer was the world, his very own grand adventure.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER IS NOW FR—"

The last thing Harry Potter could comprehend was darkness that suddenly swallowed him.

Chapter 3 – Numbness

Oh. My. God.

Renesmee's widened eyes stared at the figure ahead of her in horror, her heart momentarily stopping before beating rapidly. A second later, she was standing next to the figure. She kneeled beside him, her petite fingers shaking as she approached the stranger, who was undoubtedly a man. Her caramel brown eyes searched for the trace of life in the slightly-opened, dazed green ones. His body was almost unrecognizable, so twisted, broken and dislocated that it was near impossible for him to even stay alive. The world around her started to spin as the scent of blood that covered most of the stranger's body invaded her respiration.

Heartbeat. He was lacking a heartbeat.

She killed someone. She just murdered a stranger, who probably had a wife and children waiting for him home. Or probably a grandchild expecting his visit. She had taken an innocent life, out of her momentary anger. She had taken a life—

There's no time for this, she mentally slapped herself. She needed to do something. Anything. Why couldn't she move? Why was it so hard to break her gaze from the immobile figure in front of her? Time was ticking—why wasn't her body listening? God, someone was dying right in front of her!

Her tangled thoughts were interrupted as she noticed a light illuminating from the corner of her eyes. Glancing up, she found herself gaping as the man before her glowed. His body, as broken as it was, was starting to glow in blue light. First were his severe wounds and then the light moved slowly, exploring every inch of his body. Soon his body was thoroughly covered in the blinding blue beam. Renesmee could feel her heart stopping again as the wind around her increased, circling the two of them as the blue light intensified. Her brown hair waved wildly as the harsh wind slapped, while the man's raven hair moved gently, merging with the energy surging within.

Her hair fluttered upwards as the pressure advanced. This time, it wasn't only the blue light that she could comprehend. She could feel the power emitting from the center of his chest, where the blue light was the brightest. Ignoring the chill down her spine she fixed her eyes on the blasting beam. Her eyes widened as the light expanded, releasing a deafening jet-like sound that pounded in her ears. It was intoxicating—she was starting to get pulled by the force, her sensitive senses were overwhelmed with the power the enigma was radiating.

Then everything stopped.

Her heart was beating fast as she drew a deep breath, in a failed attempt to calm herself. Her jeans were torn where she had squeezed too hard and her hair was a disheveled mess, obviously; but the fear in her eyes was the feature that stood out the most.

A small, almost incoherent, heartbeat snapped her out of her paralyzed state. She carefully took the human into her arms, grabbed his backpack and sped to the car. The second she laid the human on the backseat, her car was dashing across the road. She ignored the car's protest as she sped up, leaving the messy road behind her. Renesmee forced her slightly numb fingers to activate the GPS, trailing blood everywhere.

"Come on, come on, hospital, hospital..." Her eyes moved frantically between the road and the screen, as the car sped up in the westward direction.

"Death, for you, a kiss."

"Found it—SHIT!" She swore loudly as she took a sudden U-turn, resisting the urge to punch the GPS that was currently showing a nearby hospital eastwards. She glanced at the rearview mirror, worried that the drift had caused some damage to the man lying on the backseat.

"Sin a lie, embracing those unkind,"

"Please. Don't die on me," She pleaded, aware of the tears that were starting to build in her eyes. Her grip on the handle tightened, but controlled so she wouldn't break it. "Please, just don't..."

"No one is safe from their fate,"

A tear escaped her eyes when all that answered her plea was silence. It was bizarre how she could be so desperate to hear a voice she had never heard before.

"Death—"

"SHUT UP!" She almost didn't recognize her own voice, laced with anger and fear. Her fist reacted impulsively, cracking the radio with one smash. She knew she'd probably regret it later, but for now she didn't really want to deal with some miserable old band singing about death.

This was probably the fastest she had driven her car, yet it felt like the longest. Renesmee tried to put all her concentration to the road, but it was hard as she was distracted by the fear of losing that small heartbeat behind her, which was weakening with each second, like a ticking bomb. She let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding as the sight of an average-looking hospital came into her sight. Not bothering to restrain her movements to look human, she roughly opened the car door and she shouted at the top of her lungs, "HELP! SOMEBODY!"

Renesmee saw a few people rush to approach her, but they were too slow and incompetent to save the man's life in time. She dashed to the backseat and put Harry in her arms, leapt across a row of stairs and appeared in front of the nurse that was already running towards her. "SAVE HIM!" She screamed, panicked with the thought of the man dying in her arms.

The nurse took a step back as she gaped at Renesmee, her horror mirroring the expression on Renesmee's face, while Renesmee inwardly cursed. She didn't have time for this. "H-How—"

"JUST SAVE HIM!"

A hoarse cough was heard from the man as blood spouted out of his mouth. Panic began to overwhelm her—her head felt like it was suddenly packed with cotton. Renesmee's desperate eyes caught the nurse's, who had calmed down, even though still looked stricken. Renesmee felt a small twinge of relief when she heard the nurse speak, "I understand. Please follow me."

"Just—tell me where to go!"

Her eyebrows furrowed at Renesmee with confusion in her eyes for a moment before gleaming in understanding. "Left, second door on the right."

She nodded as she dashed past the nurse, murmuring a small—probably inaudible—thanks. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, even with her vampire blood forcing her feet to move beyond human capacity. Following the nurse's direction, her chest filled with hope as she saw the second door. Her eyes flickered to the man in her arms, staring at the gory face with despair she never felt before, at least to this extent, in her entire lifetime.

"Come on," she whispered, uncaring that the man probably couldn't hear her. A tear dropped to the man's cheek, merging with the blood. "Stay with me for a little bit more."

Without a second thought, her right leg blew the door open, crashing it through the thankfully empty hallway as it broke into several pieces with a loud thud. Ignoring the alarm on the doctors' faces, she hurried, "SAVE HIM!"

It was fortunate that the doctors were much more professional than the nurse; they soon recovered from their shock, ignoring the mess she had made. Quickly—at least for human standards—they were already running everywhere, each focusing on their individual tasks to help save him. Renesmee stood still, her eyes reflecting the dread she felt. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight in front of her, unintentionally imagining the pain he was in. Now that she had actually taken a good look at his wounds, the small hope inside her chest slowly faded. With one last look at the man whose life she almost took, she was forced to wait outside.

"Here it is," The silky-haired man winked at her. "120 bucks for four hours. I'm impressed."

"Uh, thanks," she murmured, grimacing weakly in return. The man in front of her must be in his 40s, yet here he was, staring at her as if she was a piece of meat. He played with his black mustache as he gave her a smile that was probably supposed to be charming, but made her gag inside. "I really, really got to go now."

"Oh, come on," His voice was now only a whisper as he brought his face dangerously close. "I can do a lot of things, you know."

Okay, this was way over the line. Her polite mask fell off, and the man narrowed his eyes in distaste. "Don't play that game with me, sweetheart. Follow me, I've got a room for us to go to. Alone."

His hand reached for her, but unfortunately for him, Renesmee was much more than a weak human girl who couldn't defend herself. She twisted his arm, resisting the urge to break it in a single pull. With a small satisfication, she looked right into the bewildered black eyes staring at her. "I'm not just a normal girl, you know," she whispered, knowing that there were people around them. "You're this close to getting your arms ripped off your shoulders."

He gasped in pain, and Renesmee decided to step back as people started to stare. With a sweet smile, she cheerfully nodded. "Thank you, sir! Unfortunately I can't continue working here," her lips twisted into a sad smile at the customers' protests around her. "It was fun! I don't want to leave this place, but I have to. I sincerely hope we can all meet again."

She grinned at the crowd in a mock salute, her pearly white teeth gleaming in the light. The crowd erupted into cheers—some shouted for her to stay, but none of them, thankfully, went as far as to actually stop her from going. Giving one last wink, she walked out of her door, laughing while her fingers gleefully brushed her money.

Money was never a problem for the Cullens, but holding the funds she had actually worked for made her feel very content. Renesmee realized that she had run away from home with practically nothing but the clothes on her and a car. That was what pushed her to collect funds. She had several doubts that she wouldn't be able to find a job, but a week had passed and she had been changing jobs every day, with quite satisfying payments for each of them. To her surprise, she had enjoyed her jobs, with the exception of the occasional disgusting men.

That night, she stopped by the nearest grocery store. As she had done every other night.

The hospital was quiet as always. When she arrived, she nodded and walked past the nurse, whom she met first. It was a wonder how the doctors and the nurse never asked her further questions about her freakish speed. She was used to hearing that humans were so oblivious when it came to privacy—it was mostly true, according to her high school experience—but people here were different, which in turn gained her respect.

She stopped to take a deep breath in front of room 302. Third floor, right corridor from the lift—the best room they could offer. She entered the room to find her hopes crushed again.

The young man was still unconscious, lying on the bed without moving an inch, wearing ordinary blue patient clothes. Most of his body was still covered in bandages, even his head. The only thing visible from the upper part of his face were his closed eyes. His black hair stuck out between the bandages. Truthfully, he looked like a mummy. Had she actually known the young man and the situation hadn't been so serious, she probably would've laughed.

He had broken a good amount of bones and the doctors had said that it was a miracle that he lived, especially with all the fractured bones in his body. They didn't seem too sure that he'd make it out alive. The only thing that could calm her was his stable heartbeat.

"Hey," she tried.

No answer. Of course. What did she expect?

"I brought apples, you know. They're my favorite. My mom used to like it so much before she was turned. She told me that it had something to do with my dad. Yeah, cheesy, I know."

Renesmee took one of the apples and bit into the juicy core.

"I brought these for you. I don't know whether you'd like them or not," She laughed nervously. "I mean, you have to tell me yourself..."

She bit her lip nervously. "I really don't know what to say. I mean, sure, leaving home wasn't planned at all...but for a second I thought that I was gong to have a hell of a fun time once I was free. And then bam! Life happens," She said. "Why am I even speaking to you? Hell, you can't hear me!"

She focused her eyes on the ceiling, trying to prevent the tears building up in her eyes. God, she cried so much.

"I have a question for you, by the way," Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you?"

Maybe it wasn't polite to have her nose in someone else's business when he was bedridden and unconscious, especially since she was the cause of it. But her curiousity overwhelmed her when she recalled what had happened.

"Let's see," She said as she munched her apple, a little less miserable now. "Your heartbeat stopped for a minute, don't you dare telling me otherwise," She warned the man, who looked as emotionless as ever. "And that there was this blinding light all over your body and the wind got harsh. That was definitely not normal. And there's your heart beat again! I almost had a panic attack because of you! And brooms! Who the hell rides broom anyway?"

She felt like she could, almost, feel his resentment.

"I-I'm sorry," She gulped remorsefully. "I'll try replacing your new broom with a better one, but I'm not too sure where to buy it—"

"Du didam didam.."

Renesmee's eyes followed the source of sound. It was the bag the young man had been carrying with him. Who would set such a ridiculous tune to be a ringtone, Renesmee didn't know. Filled with curiosity and a bit of annoyance, she she stuck her hand in the bag.

Her eyes frantically widened, forcefully swallowing the loud shout she almost let out.

"You're kidding," She said weakly as she peeked into the backpack. It was really spacious, as if there was no end to the space in the bag. There were books, clothes, various bottles of different coloured liquids, and some other things she didn't recognize, all of which were disorganized. "Imagine what Aunt Alice would say!"

Renesmee had a lot of fun with that backpack. The handphone that rang before didn't ring anymore,and Renesmee didn't bother to try and find it. Instead, she had examined a lot of his clothes—robes, oh the nightmare!—a lot of newspapers with moving pictures, an annoying mirror who kept on nagging about how she should put her hair into a braid. She spent half an hour arguing with it, but thankfully, smacked it back inside. In the end, she spent her time searching for books to read.

"Why didn't I do think of doing this before?" She giggled to herself.

She quickly snapped the Arithmancy book shut the moment she started skimming the pages. She had read a few books about spells and defense, but then her eyes landed on a decent-looking book.

"Hogwarts: A History," She read aloud.

The book was addictive. She found herself unable to stop as she absorbed every word printed on it. The idea of magic made her blood boil in excitement; how could the muggle-borns comprehend the absurdity of it? She could imagine how they would feel the moment they're told; excitement, doubt and excessive hope merged into one. A magical world where everything is possible. But how could it exist, while hiding such a huge community from muggles?

A world where Physics doesn't work. Nice. She'd always hated Physics.

It was such a shame that the book was quick to finish. Then she grabbed some of the little bottles, or as they called it, Potions. It's like Chemistry! was her first thought. But way cooler, she thought. She had put the other things back neatly, praising herself that she had made his disorganized mess of items nice and tidy. After awhile, she randomly picked out a small vial and drank it out of pure, brimming curiosity. Well, it wasn't like any thing could get past the vampire venom, right?

Renesmee felt her eyes getting really, really heavy before a peaceful darkness consumed her.

The world was dark no more.

It was a blur at first, which made Harry think his eyesight had worsened. But a few seconds passed, he managed to blink a few times, and soon Harry's surrounding became as clear as crystal. The strong scent of medicines made him regain his senses. That was when he recalled what had happened.

Firewhiskey...flying...the sharp smell of blood...and then some short-lived excruciating pain before the world turned black..

At least he didn't die, he mused as he inclined his head to examine the bandages covering his body. His hand lazily reached for the counter on his left, only to find there was nothing there. His eyes suddenly jerked open, ignoring everything else as he frantically searched for it.

"Oh, no, no, no..."

It had to be here, he thought desperately. He didn't even have the holster on anymore! His head snapped to his right to find that he wasn't alone.

A girl, perhaps sixteen years old, was resting her head on the right side of his bed. Her bronze hair fell over her face, only allowing outsiders to see a small bit of her face. He didn't know why—he blamed it on his 'morbid curiosity'—his hand carefully approached her, lifting a soft lock of hair so he could see better. She was incredibly beautiful, which, somewhow, didn't surprise him. A small nose, perfectly plump lips that were slightly parted, and a pale but nice skin to contrast it all. What were the colour of her eyes? Harry hoped they were blue; it would look good on her.

His musings were stopped when he saw what was in her hand. She was holding his wand, with the holster next to her side. His Gryffindor-coloured backpack was put nicely on a desk. With a flinch, he carefully drew the wand out of limp grip. She mumbled a few unrecognizable things, then returned to her soundless sleep.

Who the bloody hell is she anyway? Harry wondered as he slowly sat, casting Accio on his backpack. His backpack was the second most important thing on his list; after his wand, that is.

What had happened? Maybe he didn't crash into a building like he originally thought—no witnesses would bother waiting up for him. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived, after all. At least here. The highest possibility was that he had actually crashed a car, and the girl was patiently waiting for him out of guilt, or a simple kindness. He snorted. Such an innocence.

He smiled at her. "Obliviate."

He left the hospital in a surprising ease. His body had efficiently coped with the situation—the pain wasn't even there anymore. Though that was one of the reasons why he felt incredibly cheerful that night, it wasn't the main one. Harry whistled cheerfully as he walked past the tall buildings. It was completely diverse with the buildings he was used to. No magic to make it magical, of course, but technology could keep up with no time.

Despite the cool, evening breeze, Harry's body was soaked with sweat. So it was perfect when he found an ice cream vendor which was almost at closing time. He ran towards the bulky man, who seemed unaware of Harry's presence. He tapped the man's shoulder, asking for a vanilla flavored cone, but was welcomed with a scream.

He stared at the now retreating man oddly before shrugging. The man left his ice cream counter, good for him that Harry was quite respectable. He took a cone of vanilla and strawberry, not forgetting to leave coins—the real price be damned.

After an hour or two of walking around like an idiot, he realized most of stores were already closed. Harry spent it walkng around, feeling surprisingly restless. The bright lights masking the dark night set his mind at ease. Even though some bystanders had bewildered faces when he passed, he quickly brushed it off. Maybe it was just the muggles. No one would never know that he was the Boy Who Lived here.

In the end, Harry finally got bored. He planned to go to Las Vegas. He heard that it was fascinating, according to George. Then again, he probably had to be extra careful since it was George. He had been twice as mischievous since he had come to terms with Fred's death—something about living up to Fred's memory. While that was truly a respectable action, Harry didn't blame himself for getting a tad bit paranoid at his antics.

When he tried to summon his Firebolt, something in his mind clicked.

"Oh my god," Harry whispered. No—that can't be. It was Sirius' gift..

"OI! YOU!"

Reacting to this familiar calling, he felt relieved that it wasn't a ghost version of Vernon Dursley who yelled at him. Instead, meters behind him, stood the girl that had slept, waiting for him in the hospital. She had horror reflected on her face. They stared at each other for a few seconds before she ran towards him with surprising agility. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"I sincerely hope not," Harry answered, a little put out. Ah, her eyes are chocolate brown.

"Why did you run off? What the hell are you doing—walking around the streets looking like that?"

"Like what?"

"You don't know?" At Harry's dumb look, she dragged him to the front of the nearest boutique.

It was dark, but it was perfectly clear what was reflected on the glass. His body wasn't soaked in sweat—it was blood. Harry felt his feet losing the strength as the darkness welcomed him.

"Hello world," Harry said as he was brought back to consciousness.

"You're awake," The girl was, again, sitting beside his bed, looking relieved. "How are you feeling?"

"Restless," He grinned mischeviously. "I could run a few miles."

She bit her lip. "So it's true."

Her tone made his grin fade."What's true?"

It was the same exact room with the one Harry previously awoke in. The girl had a basket full of apples resting it on her lap. Genuine concern shone in her eyes. "You want one? Do you like apples?"

"Love them, actually," Harry answered, and she smiled as if it was some kind of inside joke. "What's true?"

"You need to rest," She sighed. "Your lack of self-awareness is disturbing."

Harry glared. "Well, your lack of response to my repetative question is annoying."

She sighed as she handed him an apple. She looked really worn-out, almost appearing years older than the last time Harry had seen her. The nausea and stress evident on her face affected Harry, curious as to what had caused her to feel like that. Harry carefully took a bite as he kept his eyes on her, demanding for answers.

"You're numb," She said. "It's impossible to feel restless with all those wounds on your body. Just like last night. You reopened almost all of the wounds! You were soaked in blood, your muscles were strained, but you don't feel anything. But your condition is getting better," She quickly finished.

Harry's eyebrows rose, clearly disbelieving what he just heard. "Excuse me? I can feel the touch, you know, here," He held her hand roughly. "I can feel your skin. I am holding your hand and I can feel it."

The girl looked oddly panicked, rose pink coloring her face. "Y-yeah, I know you can feel. You can see. Your senses are great as ever. But when it comes to pain—"

"What? My body refused the pain?" Harry answered sarcastically.

However, her eyes turned hard and serious. "It's true, actually. Your body blocked out the pain. You can't feel any pain."

The girl twisted his right hand that was holding hers seconds ago with a dazzling speed. He didn't even have the time to react.

"I am an inch close to break your hand," She said, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Normally, you'd feel a great pain."

Harry didn't answer. Then she let his hand go, going back to her seat to slice another apple as she gave Harry a moment to stare at his hands with wide eyes.

He turned his attention to the girl, before burying his face into his hands as realization washed over him. "Oh, no."

She looked surprised. "I...thought it was a good thing? Being painless and all? I can break your hand and you won't feel a thing."

"Exactly," He groaned. "Pain is a warning. Without warning, I won't know my limit. I could go to a crazy extreme and die a second later with no warning that it was going to happen."

Harry didn't know what to say, really. Apparently, he was now numb. Permanent or not, he wasn't sure. Great. Another abnormality. I should really start to collect them, Harry thought dryly. But how could it be? There was no chance that magic wasn't involved. But what kind of magic? Hermione would know about something like this, if it had ever happened before. But no, Hermione never spoke anything about it—and she talked a lot—adding to that fact that Harry was quite the reader himself. He'd never heard anything about painlessness.

Seeing Harry silently panicking, the girl rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It may not be permanent," She reassured him after awhile. "I don't know, actually. The doctor doesn't know, either."

Harry turned to her in desperation. "What did he say?"

"He didn't know how it could happen. Total numbness accompanied with restlessness isn't exactly a common case."

Now how the bloody hell would he defend himself? Someone could cast Sectumsempra when his back is turned and he wouldn't know until he had lost too much blood! Or someone could cut his wrist when he was asleep and he wouldn't realize it until he bled to death. It would be pretty efficient, though, while opposing a Cruciatus curse; but Harry doubted the numbness would block the pain.

Harry took a deep breath. Why was he being so paranoid? He wasn't here for war. The war had ended. But sometimes it was really hard to get over it, even if it was the truth. The reality was he was now a jobless man who decided to go around the world to fulfill his parents' bucketlist.

"You died that night."

Harry's blood turned cold. How did she know what happened at Hogwarts two years ago?

He asked carefully, "What do you mean?"

"The night when we ran into each other," Her answer surprised him, but also made him relieved.

"You died. Your heartbeat completely stopped. I checked it. But then suddenly you were covered in a blinding blue beam and a violent force was messing the wind and pulling me in. When it stopped, your heartbeat was back. Incredibly small, but enough for you to stay alive. Which leads me to one question: What are you?"

Harry stood still, his body tense, his eyes betraying the confusion he refused to show. "I...I Obliviated you."

"I'm a Squib," She replied. "I have always had a photographic memory since I was born. No one knows why," Harry was still too stunned to reply, so she continued. "I don't have any magical relatives left. They were killed. I've been living a muggle life with my parents since then."

Harry finally snapped out of it as he opened his mouth to speak, but Renesmee beat him to it. "What's your name, wizard?"

"H..Harry Potter."

"Well, mine's Renesmee Carlie Cullen. And I would like to follow you for a while."

The song that was played in Renesmee's car is "Death..In Its Arm" by Samhain. Not mine too, peeps.

For 'e' – I don't know any other way to reply to your review, so I'm replying through this. Thank you! I just can't leave such a long and enthusiastic review unreplied. I'm glad you like this story and I hope you will be around for the next chapters. Thanks! :D

Anyone knows what potion Renesmee drank? ;)

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