Gotta Be Somebody
By
Echo of a Memory
……
Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling
Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer
Chapter 9: Haunted
"You know you're beautiful when he's angry?"
-'Hawkeye' Pierce -
Jasper stared at the doors the British teen had just stalked through in puzzled confusion. Something wasn't right and it was more than just a verbal confrontation. Something was physically wrong though he couldn't say what.
The blonde vampire stole a quick glance at Edward. From the look on his brother's face he could tell that the copper haired vampire was at a loss as well. Though, it was probably from the force of will that was Brevan Hunter rather than from the teen's well being.
Jasper glanced around uneasily. Something was tingling on the edge of his senses and yet he could not make it out. It was familiar, too familiar in fact. It was a moment before his golden eyes shot open in surprise.
He knew that smell.
But instead of causing him lust, rear rippled through his veins. The aroma was setting him on edge. Like an animal that was scenting the presence of a large and dangerous predator. It made him want to bare his teeth and snarl, clearly baring his fangs, in challenge.
Golden eyes darted around for the source. It was faint, very faint, but there all the same.
It wasn't until Edward moved that he was able to locate the origins of the scent. The smallest ripple in the air was enough for someone as keen as Jasper.
There was a small puddle of blood not far from copper haired vampire…where Brevan had stood. The blonde frowned. When the teen had swept into the library earlier, even as masked as his scent was, the blonde couldn't detect any blood.
And he would know.
Of all the Cullens, Jasper was the most susceptible and sensitive to the seductive call. His control could and would snap easily if the right scent reached him or was strong enough. Especially because of the years of conditioning that he suffered through long before he'd ever encountered Alice and, by extension, the Cullen clan.
However he had gotten a better handle on his control, at least he thought he had, since joining the coven. But that was neither here nor there where Brevan was concerned.
Ever since he'd met the guy, there were marked differences in him that didn't sit quite right with the blonde. Not that it was a bad thing, just…unnerving and very, very familiar to him. Jasper had been able to ignore the anomaly surrounding their British friend…neighbor…acquaintance? until that display just a moment ago and panic he'd felt in the library earlier.
He knew he was comfortable in Brevan's presence. That was pretty much a given. But friends would be stretching it. He knew nothing about the guy, not really, and it seemed highly unlikely that Brevan would become a bleeding heart over night just to slake their curiosity. Perhaps a friendly acquaintance would best describe their association.
The blonde vampire lost himself to thought as he stared at the blood puddle. Against the tiled floor it stood out as it darkened to an almost murky black.
Jasper unconsciously cocked his head to the side as he studied the spot. He might not have gone into the medical profession like Edward, but he knew (through copious amounts bloodshed and more than adequate experience), that blood, especially fresh blood, did not dry that quickly nor was it supposed to be that dark.
The blonde silently crouched down to study the anomaly. He passed a hand over it. There was a bit of heat given off, but not as much as he'd expected. It was fresh blood after all.
He reached a hand down and dipped his fingers in it, bringing them up to eye level. He studied the rapidly cooling liquid. Darkening amber eyes watched as he rubbed his fingers together, feeling the texture.
It was thicker than normal blood and he could hardly smell it now, odd. Jasper brought the sample up to his nose and sniffed.
His pupils were dilated almost swallowing up the amber. The blonde reared back violently. Jasper's lips curled in a silent snarl. His vampiric senses were all but screaming at him to back away.
It was all he could do to keep from scrambling backwards. His natural instincts almost overtook him. As it was the former Civil War soldier abruptly stood up and silently backed away a few paces, all the while staring at the puddle.
His blood covered fingers were slightly numbed. He stared at them for a moment, coming out of his shock, before looking back.
In all his long years he had never had such an adverse reaction ever, especially to blood. Now, it was all he could do to keep from scrambling away.
Darkening, reddish tinted, amber eyes studied the rapidly congealing puddle intently. What was going on?
……
Edward was puzzled. Not that he expected any sort of cordiality from the impudent rapscallion he just didn't expect the annoying cretin to be so abrupt. Not that he was an expert on Brevan's mercurial attitudes or even his mindset, but he was short tempered, rude cretin.
Or maybe he could revise that opinion to being abrupt with just him. After all he could generally charm his way into almost everyone's good graces.
And of course the vagabond had to be that one exception. At least he could read his mind, not that it helped any if the last scan he did was any indication.
In two previous meetings, Brevan had been more than willing to spar verbally with him, in spite of the danger that the vampire presented. Edward sincerely doubted that the other male could pose some type of threat to him, no matter the experience or training.
In this instance however, he seemed to want nothing more than to escape. Not that Edward wanted to be around him anymore than he had to, Heaven Forbid!, or at all but the entire episode was just such a departure from his previous behavior (playfully insulting and extremely sarcastic or was that extremely insulting and playfully sarcastic?) that it raised his curiosity to an unhealthy (for his sanity) level.
Edward shook his head. It really didn't matter. The idiot obviously had hormonally influenced emotional problems.
It wasn't long before the copper haired vampire realized that he was no longer alone and turned to find a thoughtful expression on his sibling's face. Edward hadn't heard the vampire coming.
"Jasper, wha-" Edward cut off his question when the blonde hadn't acknowledged him. In fact he seemed to be frozen to his spot a few feet away.
Curious Edward started to make his way towards his brother when he noticed the look in the other male's face and the nearly completed dilation of his eyes. He followed Jasper's gaze down to the tiled floor, which seemed to hold the source of his attention.
Edward's eyes landed on and inky reddish black puddle. His nostrils flared as the coppery, metallic scent hit his nose and his amber eyes darkened.
Blood.
How did that get there?
The copper haired vampire chanced a look back at Jasper. It was not normally within the blonde's control to not go on a blood rampage when fresh blood was spilt. And yet, there he was, perfectly still and not going on a blood rampage.
It was rather unnerving actually.
Silence echoed through the halls as both Cullen's regarded the puddle. The younger of the two, cautiously slipping glances at his elder brother.
It took all of Edward's willpower to not shake Jasper to make sure he was not an imposter and demand where the real blonde went. The vampire he knew wouldn't stand there and ogle a spot of blood.
No.
The vampire he'd known for years would leap forward suck up the blood and then run off to the nearest heat source and bleed them dry. And that would most certainly be some unfortunate human in this place.
Chancing a glance back at the hall Brevan had practically run out of. It was empty of life and dimly lit with the silver rays barely peaking through the glass if the windows. He looked back at the hall he had just walked down and then behind Jasper. They were alone.
"Jasper? Jasper, snap out of it." He snapped his fingers in front of his brother's eyes.
Edward's voice seemed to bring Civil War soldier out of his reverie. The blonde forcibly shook himself out of his trance, though his eyes never completely left the puddle.
"Edward…what do you smell?"
"What?"
"Just…taste the air and tell me what you sense?" Jasper grit his teeth as the numbness in his finger tips became more apparent. If he didn't wash the blood off soon, he would lose feeling in that hand.
The younger Cullen frowned before testing the air. His brow furrowed deeper as the scent of blood was all but gone.
"Nothing."
Edward truly didn't want to get down on his hands and knees to smell the puddle. His control, while strong, was nowhere near ironclad and he definitely didn't want to test that now. Jasper frowned as his younger brother turned to him confused and puzzled.
"Are you sure that's blood?"
"I thought it was…"
"Then why aren't you on some kind of rampage?"
"I…don't know." Jasper met Edward's gaze squarely for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, "that's why I wanted you to smell it."
"Well I don't smell anything."
"Perhaps your senses are waning then." He snapped. Jasper's senses were flaring out erratically as the numbness began climbing up his arm.
"And what about you? You're supposed to be the most sensitive." The younger male retorted. "Are you even sure that's blood? Or are you playing some sort of joke in bad taste?"
"As if I would do something like that, Masen." The blonde snarled. His dilated eyes becoming darker as the more predatory instincts came forward.
"Watch your tone Whitlock." Edward replied sharply, his eyes narrowing, "It's not as if I was the one with little self control."
"Then you should be grateful that I have superior senses, in exchange," the blonde growled before stalking off to find a water fountain. He needed to get the blood off him; it was wreaking havoc with his senses.
"What is going on, Jasper."
The blonde nearly growled as Edward, seemingly obliviously, popped up between him and the drinking faucet he had just located. It was a moment of staring before he pushed past the younger male with a growl.
"Shut up or I'll bite you."
Jasper pushed the side of his hip against the drinking faucet button and sent a challenging glare at his sibling, warning him against moving. Once he water was running, the blonde turned and plunged his hand under the water, violently rubbing his hands together.
Almost instantly Jasper felt better as the murky, nearly dried mess flowed down the drain. The numbness was also leaving and his senses became more balanced, less agitated.
Edward just watched his brother warily. This was the first time he'd been on the aggressive side of the blonde that didn't involve Alice and truth be told, it frightened him because not only didn't he have the battle experience the other had, but he also wasn't powerful enough to match.
Sure he was quick and could read minds and knew enough to defend himself, but he didn't have the edge Jasper had in combat. He'd even bet only one or two of the Volturi Guard would be able to match the ex-soldier and barely come away unscathed. And that was because of their ages, experience and probably whatever gift they had.
The copper haired vampire watched as the aggressive emotions visibly washed away with whatever was coating Jasper's hand. He didn't think it was blood. What vampire grew aggressive and predatory around other vampire?
There were cases he heard about Sirens, somewhere along the way, and how they could affect a vampire. But he highly doubted that Brevan Hunter was one. Also, since Jasper already had a mate it was highly unlikely that even if he was one that the blonde would be affected in such an adverse manner.
And so he waited. He wanted to make sure that his sibling was alright before he went back and investigated. Edward also wanted to keep an eye on the blonde. This shift was too abrupt and too violent for his liking.
It wasn't normal Jasper behavior. Sure they had enough confidence in him to keep to himself and not drain someone during school, but that trust was tenuous at best.
Edward's thoughts were cut off when the heard a sigh of relief. It seemed that jasper was also aware of the effects of…whatever it was, that was agitating him. Looking at the other vampire's eyes, a solid gold, relaxed him up as well.
The younger vampire waited a few moments, allowing the older male to dry his now clean hands. It went unsaid between them that they were going back.
With a look, the younger, speedier vampire darted away and returned a moment later with some paper towels and a plastic bag. Where he had gotten it, Jasper would never know, he wasn't about to ask. His mind was elsewhere anyways.
The entire incident earlier had disturbed him greatly.
How something seemingly innocuous could change his personality into an aggressive predator was beyond him. Jasper shook his head at the thought. He'd reflect on the experience later when he had a moment to himself.
Catching the younger male's cautious look, Jasper sighed. It seemed that he'd never be free of that scrutiny. Jerking his head, the blonde vampire slowly made his way back towards the spot, Edward carefully following behind.
"I'm fine."
"Are you?"
"You're one to talk."
"I never did an about face in personality."
"But you're capricious enough as it is."
"Yes, but I never was affected in the way you just exhibited."
"And you wondered why I asked you to scent the blood?"
"It might not have been."
Jasper halted abruptly. There was no way that what he smelled wasn't some substitute. He looked over his shoulder and pinned Edward with a measuring stare.
"I saw the look you had, you knew it was blood."
"How could you? You were fixated on the spot."
"Talent."
"Right."
"Alright All-Knowing-One, what was it that pooled on the floor where, subsequently, one Brevan Hunter had stood not moments before arguing with you?"
"I don't know," the younger male ran his fingers in a decidedly mortal show of agitation before he froze and looked at the older, amused, male, "you saw that?"
Jasper snorted. Of course he had. And now he understood why they were hostile towards each other, though his sympathies lay with the other student. Edward could be rather…much to handle and quite stubborn when he put his mind to the task, especially when he was curious about something or someone.
"I'm surprised Emmett and Alice didn't come running."
"What about Rosalie?"
A wry thought entered the blonde's mind at their cantankerous sibling. Now that would have been an interesting confrontation.
"She'd have brought the popcorn and watched the fireworks."
They had stopped at the corridor, which was still miraculously abandoned, by that point. Both eyed congealing puddle with varying dubious expressions. Neither seemed inclined to collect a sample or in a hurry to go anywhere near it.
Jasper wanted to avoid a repeat experience. He couldn't bring himself to take a step closer.
Edward eyed the spot with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Blood was blood. He was a vampire. The two didn't really mix if said predator was trying to live out an alternative lifestyle.
He had no intention of using Jasper to help with this and it seemed solely up to him to clean up this mess. With a sigh, the younger male squatted before the congealed hemoglobin and pulled out the paper towels and baggy.
Neither was ideal for testing under any circumstances, but they would have to suffice. Both vampires wanted to make sure that this, whatever it was, wasn't around for the normal mortal populace to step in.
Since there was still about half of the day left in school, there was a very real possibility of it being spread around and Jasper didn't relish the thought of have to be on guard against something else at this place. It was bad enough being around these young, healthy, hormonal humans daily.
The younger would have to get back. Jasper on the other hand, since he was schedule to be in the library at this hour, would be able to sneak out and drop it by Carlisle.
The blonde watched on as the youth began the work. Edward was carefully avoiding contact with the plasma, taking every precaution.
Jasper looked up when he heard the all too familiar pat of the rain wash against the windows. The weather outside reflected his mood perfectly.
……
Harry always had an unnaturally high pain threshold even before the war. Perhaps it was because of his magic. Or perhaps it was a side effect of being bullied so much in his younger years.
Either way it was beyond what many would consider normal, even amongst magic users. His tolerance levels had increased at least thrice what they had been after his first four years at Hogwarts and were furthered, later on, by his brief and hellish experience in captivity.
So he should have had excellent self control, unnatural even. Even by his standards.
However he didn't. He was exhausted, physically, spiritually and emotionally.
And none of that mattered as he made it to his run-down residence. He left his bag in the car, he'd retrieve it later. The only sensation the adolescent could focus on was the vague separation of his numbed mind and moving body.
His feet clumsily stumbled over the broken asphalt of his drive way, threatening to trip him up and halt his progress. His hooded sweatshirt darkened as raindrops splattered across his back.
Harry gasped as he barely made it inside the door of his house before collapsing to his knees, his mind solely focusing on his internal mantra. The fluffy 'rug' by the entrance squeaked in protest to the sudden weight.
The black haired youth grit his teeth and suppressed a groan as another wave ripped through him. He was determined not to cry out.
Harry's jaw muscles worked overtime in trying to keep his mouth shut. He forced himself to keep quiet out of a sheer survival instinct.
His entire arm began to tremor with the force of the magical backlash rippling through his veins. Partially healed wounds tore open. Harry struggled to stem the blood flow with little success.
These effects were the price he paid for using heavy amounts of magic during the war, especially before he was completely healed, showed him exactly where he stood. It was a bloody trade off for his more…enhanced abilities. He didn't know what he was anymore.
What had started out as a civil conflict turned into a bloody war that practically wiped out a good third of the British wizarding society. A majority of the prominent families had been all but annihilated and the government was in shambles.
The adolescent struggled to his feet, with little success, as he tried to make it his kitchen. There were some bottles of some sort of aspirin or pain meds he'd stashed in there just in case this would happen. They wouldn't help him at this moment, but the meds would be able to curtail the aftereffects.
The inky blood left a smeared trailed after him as he dragged himself through the old halls. Luckily this was an old house and therefore the floor plan wasn't as extensive or spacious as modern day architecture.
Harry was able to hobble into the kitchen soon enough and started for the drawer that held the anesthetics only to find himself wobble backwards as another convulsion seized his muscles. He was barely able to top himself from falling.
His body was literally tearing itself apart…from the inside out. And there was nothing he could do stop it.
His magic was lashing out of control. And he was about ready to hunt down and murder the ritualistic bastard who did this to him in cold blood…if he survived to see tomorrow.
As much as he wanted to indulge his bloodthirsty side, Harry couldn't muster the energy to do much more than fantasize. He knew his own weaknesses. Unfortunately for him, so did that particular faction of the war effort.
It was not a natural occurrence in the least. Or rather the cause of his suffering was not naturally induced. That knowledge did little to help him at the moment.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry registered the wheezing noise as his lungs struggling to take in air. All he could focus on at that point was trying to locate the blood thinners.
It was a moment, he clumsily rummaged around for the pill bottles, before the analgesic finally found it self in his shaking grasp. The youth fumbled with the lid before popping it open and nearly scattering half of the jar's contents all over the floor.
Not really caring, he threw back four or five of the tablets in his hand and dropped the plastic canister uncaringly on the floor, scattering the rest of the jar's contents. He'd pick it up later. For the time being he'd wait for the promised relief.
Harry sighed somewhat as the pain relievers kicked in almost a half hour later. He was lucky. He'd made it back in time and that was all that mattered.
He couldn't very well have others questioning him about things he'd rather keep secret.
Anyways, this was bound to happen sometime. He'd been expecting this attack for a while. He just wasn't expecting the backlash to be so…severe. Sure he always suffered some kind of consequence for using his magic aggressively, but the reactions were usually mild.
There had to be something else affecting his condition. This just wasn't the normal, easily covered up, stress he'd begged off while in England. And he'd bet good gold on that.
If he was correct, and he knew he was, then it seemed the close proximity to the turbulent, ambient magic of the Americas had effected after all. Harry couldn't be certain though. And if it did, he had to determine whether or not it dampened or agitated his condition.
Harry grimaced at the thought. As if things weren't already disarrayed enough.
Summoning whatever was left of his strength, Harry shakily staggered toward his sleeping quarters. He took great care to keep his cramped muscles from jarring too badly. His last lesson on being stubborn had taught him well and was not an experience he wished to repeat.
Somewhere in the back of his pain addled and groggy mind, Harry knew that the vampires were going to be curious. The million pound question was how was he going to get out of this predicament?
The seventeen year old stumbled over to his sleeping bag. He'd think about that later. Right now all he wanted was the oblivion and peace sleep offered.
Green eyes cracked open at the sound of approaching boots. There were only two and if he was correct, one was his handler and the other was a visitor. He didn't know how long he'd been in this hole of a nightmare, but he hoped this meant that it was close to the end.
Harry couldn't really move, his joints seemed frozen and any jostle or flexion of muscle caused him no small amount of pain. His body seemed to be rebelling against itself and whatever it was they were doing to him.
He watched the door to his cell. It wasn't usual for him to receive visitors, especially when he was recuperating between rituals.
The fifteen year old captive tensed as the keys jangled in the lock. Only handlers ever came within grabbing range. Though considering his physical incapacity, it wasn't too much of a stretch of the imagination as to the reasons why.
He couldn't turn his neck as the muscles seemed to protest heavily. Harry watched as a pair of fine dragon hide boots came within his line of sight. Whoever was on the other side came in?
"Leave us."
Harry tensed minutely. He knew that voice. It haunted his nightmares.
For a moment there was utter silence as they listened to the cell door lock and the caretaker's boot steps echo down the corridor. Then there was nothing. He was alone with him of all people.
The black haired teen wanted nothing more than to glare at the other. However, it seemed not even his facial muscles were up to the challenge.
The boots just stayed there, firmly planted on the cobbled slate of Harry's cell floor. The imprisoned teen faintly noticed that the leather itself was of the highest quality, something he knew the other occupant couldn't afford. Well, at least not before he was paid off.
"What are you doing here?" Harry's voice rasped in barely a whisper. It had given out a while ago. He would likely talk with a bit of a husk if he ever got it back.
His visitor remained silent for a moment longer. Harry wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Perhaps he held his retort in an effort to choose his words carefully? In another time he'd have snorted at the thought.
"Ginny's handfasted." Harry made no movement signaling that he heard. He had no idea what a 'handfast' was, but then again there were many parts of wizarding culture that he was ignorant of.
"That means she's bound in marriage for a year and a day." And he would care about Ron's little sister because? Harry knew she had a crush on him and sort of had some connection to him after their second year. He hadn't really had time to sort that out though. "But you wouldn't know that now would you?"
"She's helped out a lot with that, fulfilling an old contract and all." the voice blithely continued on, "Mum's happy that her little girl is off in the big world. And now we have enough for treating my dad. Soon he'll be right as rain."
"And you know what the best part is?" not even waiting for a reply, the chess master barreled on, "they're smiling at me. ME! Not Bill. Not Charlie. Not Percy. Not even the twins. Me."
Harry watched as the boots walked around in a slow circle. Somewhere in the middle of his monologue, his visitor had started walking back and forth. There wasn't much room in his cell even if he only lay on one side.
His mind wandered a bit at this visit. What was the purpose? The other male couldn't really gloat as there was nothing that could be held over him, except the lives of his unit, but that was slim at best.
The boots stopped in front him. What brought his attention back, though, was the rising volume of the voice.
"And you know what the best part is? I made my family happy. I arranged Ginny's marriage. I got the money for Dad's operation. And it had nothing to do with you."
So Mr. Weasley was going to survive his snake bite after all? He'd gotten bitten by some type of venomous viper that was eating away his nervous system and systematically shutting down his internal organs. The anti-venom required rare and expensive ingredients as well as a pricy operation to cutout the dead tissue and re-grow via potions. And since wizards didn't have insurance, there was no way for the Weasely's to pay for the procedure. At least before this.
That was good news. Harry's mind wandered again as he just stared at the boots, contemplating if he was going to have sore ribs on top of everything else. Those looked like reinforced dragon hide. He wouldn't put it past Ron to give him a swift kick while he was down.
"Well, maybe not all of it. You did help pay for Dad…sort of."
"Paid you well for me did they?"
"Twice as much as I bargained for, actually." The other teenager's sneer became more prevalent after a moment. "We were happy before you came along. All famous and everything, everyone instantly loving you for something you can't remember. Youngest Seeker of the Century. Basilisk Slayer. Everyone's hero. Well, everyone's but mine."
The black haired teen barely caught what was being said, though it seemed rambling to him. They really hadn't spoken civilly to each other since before Hermione's death.
"Little Gin-gin was infatuated with you, you know? Mom filling her head with all sorts of nonsense. She probably would have made you a good wife. Ginny could have popped out a few sprogs for you in no time. All loyal and light sided, the perfect witch for the perfect hero."
Giving up on the hope that ignoring the red head would make him leave sooner, Harry listened in. After all he wasn't going anywhere and who knew how long this visit lasted. A moment later he wished he hadn't.
"As if I want you in my family. You don't deserve my family. You got yours killed off, and then you got my girl killed off, now it seems you're aiming for mine."
Harry nearly saw red. How dare he!!
Try as he might, the black haired teen couldn't move a muscle. Everything protested vehemently.
There really wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't even call on his accidental magic at the moment. But he knew it was there. He could feel it welling up turbulently, painfully inside him, waiting to lash out.
"Next time I see you, I'll kill you."
The laugh that erupted from the former DA member sent chills up his spine. It was almost as bad as hearing Voldemort's own. No, maybe it was worse.
"No you won't. You want to know why? Because by the time you're out of here, you won't even remember my name."
"Just you wait." The red head snorted in derision.
"Harry, you couldn't kill anyone if you tried. You couldn't even kill Voldemort." The redhead's voice turned vicious, "As if a stunner could kill him. You're too much of a goody two-shoes. You couldn't even save Hermione because you can't kill."
Harry tried grabbing at the boot. His body though screamed in protest caused him to go into spasming convulsions.
"See? You're too weak to even touch me now." His tone became cold, "a weak pawn for an old man. Both easily manipulated by a better chess player."
"I'm my own hero. And I'm not relying on some two-bit prophecy. I'm on my own side."
He set down something in front of the now wheezing teen. It took Harry a moment to register that it was a black lacquered king piece in front of his former best friend. It was a regular piece, nothing magical about it.
"It was either you or my family. I chose them."
Harry stared at the chess piece. All he could make out through the entire visit was the details on the boots. Ron hadn't even tried to manhandle him.
"Something to remember the good times by," the voice became sardonic in a nostalgic, almost wistful tone, "after all, you were entertaining…some of the time."
The redhead stood up and rapped on the cell door and waited for it to be opened. It was a moment before the keys jangled and it slid open. Without another word, the wizard slipped out and the door closed again.
That was the last time Harry saw his former best friend.
Generally Carlisle didn't have a reason to head to the lab at the hospital. He was a general practitioner and thus was not required there. On the rare occasion that he was found himself there, it was because of a weather related emergency and they were short hands everywhere.
It was also where they kept the most active blood cultures for testing, a very trying place for most vampires. The air always carried that heavy, metallic smell.
Carlisle looked around the place. Normally there were at least one or two technicians in the room. Today he must have caught the place between shifts, which was rather fortunate for him… and for his son. Jasper had followed him into the lab. Partially as a look out and partially out of curiosity.
His last adopted son had visited him unexpectedly and gifted him with something that sent chills up and down his spine. The normally stoic vampire was shaken and shaken deeply.
Jasper had just stuffed a rather messy, and frankly disgusting looking, plastic bag in his hands and wouldn't really elaborate on what it was other than blood. The sample was hardly ideal and definitely wasn't in a sterilized container. Whatever was in the bag was important enough for the younger vampire to risk his hard earned control to bring it to him.
The younger vampire was acutely aware that this place should have been a danger zone. In fact, the metallic smell made his mouth water slightly, but other than that he could push it off as an annoyance.
Deciding it would be best for him to stay out of the way, Jasper retreated to an empty space in the lab where he just leaned against the counter and watched. It would take a few hours before the sample results would be done. Normally it would have been months with the backlog of cases, but since it was a small hospital and this was a single sample, neither vampire saw the need to wait.
A couple of feet away the doctor was readying phials and other equipment. He didn't really expect anything extraordinary to come from this. Perhaps varied results due to the obvious contamination as the blood was obviously black and cold, though not completely dry.
"Tell me again why you want me to test this so badly?" Carlisle began adding the blood to phials. When Jasper didn't readily reply the older, the older vampire looked up. The younger blonde's eyes were screwed shut as if he was remembering something painful.
"Jasper?" the doctor queried.
"I had a bad reaction to it," the civil war soldier finally spoke up, he looked off into space, "I wanted to know if it was human or not."
So many questions flew through the older vampire's mind at that moment. He looked down at the phials in his hand.
"Where did you get this?"
The younger blonde mulled over his answer. He wasn't sure how well this would go over with his adopted father. He somewhat resigned himself to sharing the full story. Because if it was not himself, then definitely Edward. The copper haired vampire wouldn't withhold such information from his sire.
"Brevan Hunter."
The sound of shattering glass surprised Jasper enough to look at the older male. Carlisle himself seemed surprised as he blankly stared at the shattered remains in his hands or rather the bleeding cuts in his hand. Neither it seemed had expected that reaction. He looked up and met Jasper's eyes squarely.
Jasper almost gasped as he watched the doctor's eyes go pitch black then to blood red and began flickering to blue. That and his canines were starting to lengthen and shorten, giving the centuries old male a menacing look. But what startled the younger male the most was animalistic predatory gleam in Carlisle's eyes.
They also looked deadened as if all conscious thought had been wiped form his mind. It was almost as if the doctor he knew was possessed by some ancient berserker.
The younger blonde tackled the Cullen patriarch to the ground.
After a few tense moments, Jasper was finally able to wrestle the doctor over the chemical showers and switch them on, all the while somehow miraculously holding onto the elder vampire. He had to hold the doctor bodily.
In truth Jasper felt like his arms were being slowly ripped off. Who knew the elder, sedate vampire could fight like a wildcat. Thankfully Carlisle's innate distaste for biting humanoid forms kept the younger male from getting a new set of scars.
It was about five minutes before the struggling became weaker and ceased all together. Carlisle gasped as the water ran over his cuts, washing away the vile stuff. He literally felt the aggression drain away down the sink.
"What was that?" the doctor rasped.
The younger vampire was more than thankful that none of the lab technicians had been present. He was sure there would have been bloodshed if they had. Glancing at the semi-pink, exposed, alive flesh surrounding the cuts on the older vampire's hands, Jasper could only think one thing.
"I don't know."
……
In all honesty, living in the United States was definitely not living up to expectations. Not that it really had anything to do with the land itself, there was no way that the state of Washington or the town of Forks was to blame. Or even his annoying neighbor, though he could be added in as an…inconsequential factor.
No. All those accusations lay with everything else that got lumped in with his life. And he wasn't exaggerating either.
Harry had hoped, in vain, that his troubles would remain across The Pond where his former lives had been, those of Harry Potter, unwanted orphan boy and Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, wizard. However it seemed that just by virtue of his birth that everything clung to him like a disgusting stink that he had yet to find a way to get rid of.
It was as if he was being told that he'd never be rid of his fate. And all the evidence he had was staring right back at him, tauntingly.
Harry's lips thinned as he glared at the dried blood that pooled all over the driver's side door and seat. It looked like something from one of the disgusting horror movies Dudley used to watch.
The teen massaged his sore arm. It would take a few days for the bruises to fade. He just had to be sure that his magical use was limited to either simple charms or internal circulation and control exercises through concentrated battle mediation and visualization.
He hadn't taken the normal precautions because of the pain. He definitely hadn't expected it to be that intense, at least no more so than usual.
Not that he wouldn't have been able to anyways.
The teen sighed and looked at his wristwatch. Well, there wasn't really anything to it. He didn't have the time, energy or the magic to clean up the mess at the moment.
He had scrubbed as much as he could, which wasn't very much, but couldn't do more with the time constraints. Harry just hoped that no one would go near his car, an old, used 1990-something Honda Accord. It was cheap and he needed something that wasn't a rental.
And since this place was such an isolated area, his less than…adequate driving skills would hardly be noticed. It was a thrill and utterly nerve-wracking trying to drive one of these…contraptions and not get mistaken. His experience the first day he decided to make a trip into Forks, he nearly ended hitting an elderly driver almost head on because he was driving on the wrong side of the road.
Not the best way to start anew in a different country, by killing one of the inhabitants in an accident. The entire ordeal was rather traumatic.
Yes, he had watched Uncle Vernon operate his beastly machine back in England and, yes, he and Ron did have a field day sneaking around in the old flying car after it had somehow made its way back to the Weaselys' garage. But that was child's play.
He at least had the sense to look up some of the basics of driving and the rules of the roads here in America. Practical experience, though, couldn't be helped and he didn't really have the time before he moved.
Now he had to learn out of necessity otherwise he'd have to bike to school. Not something he fancied doing, especially in the dead of winter.
Harry sighed again and ran his hand through his hair in agitation. With the display he'd put on for those vampire, he seriously doubted the day would be left in peace.
After all, Harry was betting that Jasper at least would try to catch him. Humans, and vampires by extension, are curious creatures and his behavior yesterday would warrant some kind of investigation.
He'd have to do his best to deflect any and all curiosity. There were parts about him that nobody, not even a vampire, should know outside of himself. After all the best kept secret was the one that was never told.
Harry was more than certain that when the blonde haired tutor discovered the blood that there would be questions that he was unwilling to answer. His past was his to deal with and his alone.
Just like it always had been.
The teen sighed and tossed in his knapsack. The book bag landed on the passenger side. If he kept brooding, he'd be late for school. While he'd rather be elsewhere, Harry had appearances to keep up and a life to make out of what he had left of it. He certainly hadn't lived through everything to just give up now, no matter how tempting that was.
With a last withering look at both the stains and his watch, the teenaged wizard hopped in. He'd just have to grin and bear it and pray to the grey heavens that he'd get through the day without incident.
……
It wasn't long before Harry reached the school. The time was early enough that not many were there. Though, it wouldn't be long before the parking lot was chaos incarnate, like every other morning.
Honestly. He understood the need to feel independent and somewhat mature, but to have just about every teen in the area try to cram their damned contraptions into such a small space was simply madness. Or why school officials felt the need to make such a lot available if such accommodations weren't adequate to begin with.
Harry glanced at the clouded sky before getting out. He was reasonably sure that it wouldn't rain but this was the weather and this was Forks. Anything could plausibly happen.
The young wizard made his way into the school, with a last look around the area. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.
……
A pair of ominocular lenses tracked the teens' movements as it followed him through the parking lot. It was only a matter of time. For now though, the orders were to observe and report back, especially after the incident in the…alley.
As if it could even be called that. That place didn't even hold a Lumos to the true sophistication back in civilized society.
They still had yet to locate the subject's home. The natural magic of this continent was greatly interfering in their tracking abilities. Added to the fact that the American used automobiles to go just about everywhere and British, magically-raised wizards were left in a situation they were ill equipped to deal with.
Like so many of the stories that other countries circulated about the 'New World' continent, the Americas were more or less frontier. At least in magical terms, and thus had a different rule of law when it came to magic.
The…civilized legal system that Europe and a good portion of the Asian continent luxuriated in was non-existent. Out here there was frontier justice, rough and simple. Like something out of the 1800's.
Every wizard was a law unto himself unless they crossed the line and forced the Sheriff got involved. Their agent had been fortunate earlier in the alley. The local law enforcement had been called away to deal with some local treaty violation with the natives or something, he really didn't care. These wizards were just a step above muggles in his opinion. The term shaman could, very, loosely be applied to these…humans, barely.
They couldn't practice magic like the 'Old World' wizards could, like civilized magic users. Instead they had to rely on some strange, laughable mumbo-jumbo and rude, savage even, local craft.
It was sad really. To see such powerful potential and so many opportunities lost to so many hicks, shameful.
Of course by local, which was relative in such a barbaric place, in the Americas usual covered at least a couple hundred miles. Settlements were few and far between on the west coast.
None of this mattered anyways. Once the signal was given, they'd be able to retrieve their runaway and no one would be any wiser. The local muggles probably wouldn't even notice.
After all what was one missing teenager in a land as large as this? He was a transient and most likely avoided.
He could hardly wait for that day to arrive. A sly, almost oily, and extremely sinister grin over took the watcher's features. His prey would most likely make the hunt interesting, after all they made him.
But that didn't mean he couldn't harass.
"Soon, my pet."
……
Jasper Whitlock.
Texas born native.
Civil War Soldier.
Major of the Confederate Army.
Vampire.
War machine.
Combat veteran.
Runaway.
Southern-bred Gentleman
Husband.
Mate.
Family member.
Student.
But most importantly of all, and seemingly forgotten, was the fact that he was the second eldest vampire in the Cullen Coven. A detail he was sure almost everyone forgot.
While he might not have been as old as Carlisle, Jasper knew for certain that he was fairly experienced in life. He also had seen and done things that he knew none of the others in the clan hadn't.
The older vampire also didn't live both sides of the line. It afforded Jasper a type of wisdom that could only be obtained through personal suffering.
Living as he did was a struggle. Day in and day out, going against his very nature as a predator because of some moral high ground. Jasper often found him mind wandering into forbidden realms and flirting with dangerous thoughts. It was something he kept to himself.
Not the doctor. Not the mind reader. And not even Alice knew what went on behind his emotionless eyes.
Carlisle might have seen a bit more in his long life, but he didn't experience it. Not the way Jasper had. He didn't see war in the same way Jasper had. He didn't have to fight and kill newborns to just survive.
He was almost sure that the head of the coven had no inkling about the other supernatural…anomalies that were hidden in this world, even if he spent time with the Volturi.
And because of his experience, Jasper was also quite certain that the doctor wouldn't have any idea about what was ailing Brevan Hunter. In fact, now that he thought of it, Hunter wasn't displaying anything a normal mortal would. That alone made it a different situation all together, one he knew the others hadn't experienced.
While medicine was not his chosen area of expertise, for the obvious reason, the blonde remembered enough about battlefield triage and the many different illnesses that plagued the mortal populations that he was able to identify possible victims. Mentally culling them, separating the weak and sick from the healthy and strong.
It irritated him to no end to constantly have to reassure others about his stability. His control, for what it was, was remarkable. Though, he was quite sure that they couldn't comprehend, them being morally superior and all.
It wasn't so much that he was bitter over the matter, Jasper grimaced as he picked up on a few conflicting emotions, it was just that he was tired of constantly having to defend himself. Being born when he had and having lived through what he did, Jasper didn't need his small mate always be there, reassuring the others.
It grated on his gentle southern upbringing. However there were some situations that could have been worse if she wasn't there so he bore it to the best of his abilities.
They had arrived only a few moments before, all piled into Edward's silver bullet (with Edward's driving it might as well have been), and he was currently searching the sea of heads for one in particular. There were questions he had and only one person to direct them. He wasn't going to wait until fourth period study session either.
Unfortunately it seemed like his quarry was being rather uncooperative. He wasn't within the vampire's considerable sight.
Annoyance filled the blonde as he barely registered his 'siblings' departure. Why did one single mortal have to garner such attention?
The blonde couldn't truly answer his own question and it really didn't matter. Jasper was sure that Brevan would open a little on his own time.
As for the present, the Texas native had to settle a matter of importance. The results had yet to come back from the lab, but if Carlisle's similar adverse reaction to the blood was anything to go by then he needed at least something.
A clue perhaps? Maybe if he asked very nicely, the British male would supply him with the missing puzzle piece.
Jasper mentally snorted. As if.
If Brevan had even an ounce of any of the obstinate personality he'd observed during Edward's questioning, then he'd knew getting information was going to be quite an…experience.
He sincerely doubted that Brevan would open up and share his life's story. Especially, since he suspected the other to be as private as himself. It was impressive that he had evaded Edward for so long. The scout would have definitely had everything telegraphed to him mentally and then the mystery would have become a boring and mundane.
Jasper let a scowl slip over his normally impassive features before quickly banishing it. That panic attack wasn't normal.
He wondered at what physical state the mortal would show up in. Would he be a healthy color or pale?
And as he was thought about it, the blonde felt his lip curl. That blood wasn't natural either.
He was barely able to pick out the scent. Now that he knew what to look for he was able to pick up on it whereas the others would be hard pressed to find it. Carlisle might, but that would have been because he actually touched the stuff. The scent also contained that strange tang to it.
And it was that redolence he was picking out now. And led him to a car he'd have recognized anywhere.
Well, it seemed Brevan was here, which meant he was attending today. So he'd be able to hopefully talk to the guy at some point and wring out some answers.
Jasper wondered close enough to the car to be able to peer in. What had happened the day before had disturbed him and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He also wasn't sure what possessed him to approach Brevan's car other than the strange scent.
Either way he wanted some closure. It wasn't really his business but he needed to know. Anything or anyone who had the potential to send him into a blood rage of any kind needed to be dealt with one way or another.
It was a moment before the blonde realized he was staring. Inside the vehicle was what looked like something from a horror movie.
"Jasper what are you…" Edward cut himself off as he caught sight of what froze the blonde.
Dried blood dripped down the dashboard, steering wheel, and door as stains decorated the upholstery.
Edward would have gone a perfect shade of white if he was still mortal. As it was he almost staggered in realization.
It hadn't been their imagination after all.
And no one should have survived that much blood loss.
He couldn't explain the intensity of his reactions, just that everything affected him more than he was willing and ready to admit. Which was odd. While Jasper reacted adversely, almost aggressively, he became…Edwards couldn't really explain it.
One part of him wanted to snarl, hiss and spit, like an agitated cat, at the blood while another struggled desperately to hunt down the source and check to see if everything was alright. It was like having two warring factions claw for dominance and neither succeeding.
It was confusing. Even for someone of his capricious temperament.
Something was going on. Something he wasn't party to. Edward flat out stared at the frozen blonde, trying to read something from him.
Carlisle had been acting strangely and had even withdrawn from them last night, and Jasper wasn't sharing. Edward was determined to find out.
He knew that the civil war veteran had visited his sire at the hospital with the blood sample and he also knew that something had to have happened there. He'd have to be deaf blind, dumb and without his gift to not see something so obvious.
The sample was missing and neither blonde was talking. If there was one thing Edward hated it was not being 'in the know'.
And until just now, he had been partially convinced that yesterday's incident was just a random coincidence, one of many, that involved the mysterious Brevan Hunter.
Without a word, Jasper turned on his heel and strode purposefully back towards their car. Edward followed behind him, a question on his lips.
What did surprise the younger male was when his blonde counterpart stopped right in front their cantankerous sibling. Who was currently preening before she went inside.
"Rosalie, I need you to find something out from him."
"Who?" Rosalie looked over her nails.
"Brevan Hunter. You have English with him don't you?"
"Why would I want to voluntarily talk to that simpleton?"
"Because I'm asking you." There was a commanding tone tempered by a line of steel that Edward had never heard before, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently Rosalie did too.
"Fine." The beautiful vampire flipped her hair as she glided toward the school, "But don't expect anything significant. He is an idiot after all."
Being the ever present gentleman, Jasper just inclined his head in acknowledgment. Satisfied that her sacrifice would not be in vain (or unappreciated), Rosalie continued her trek towards the educational buildings.
As if finally noticing his audience, Jasper turned around and met the amber gaze of his youngest sibling. The blonde took great care to keep his mind carefully blank. He wanted a little privacy with his thoughts before he shared them.
Edward for his part looked right back. His gaze (and gift) closely scrutinizing the elder vampire.
"What's your interest in this, Edward?"
"Curiosity." Jasper's eyebrow went up. Edward was never just the curious sort.
"Care to elaborate?"
"No."
The elder blonde gave the younger male a measuring look. It was an expression the copper haired vampire was learning to hate. He also couldn't get a good read from Jasper.
"Then neither will I."
With that the blonde shouldered his backpack and made his way towards the small high school. He had classes to attend and a plan of attack to formulate. Even if Rosalie didn't get any information from the Brit, he had four whole class periods to.
Edward just watched Jasper go before reaching in the car for his own bag. He could think on the idiot later. Right now, he had a class to get to.
All the while they were being watched.
……
Harry stared down at his half completed homework blankly, willing it to magically finish by itself. If only it were that easy.
When she was alive, Harry had sworn that Hermione had known a spell that automatically turned out a perfect term paper. How else could she have gotten all of her homework done with so many classes?
Not that the spell would have helped him much in his current predicament. Aside from the tiny, insignificant fact that he couldn't use his magic without some kind of totem conduit, he was physically and magically impaired at the moment. He was still suffering from the after effects of his backlash attack.
"Alright class."
The announcement brought Harry out of his musings. Class was starting and he could always count on his English teacher to go straight into the lesson. That meant no required social interaction with his peers, which was a very good thing. At least he didn't have to deal with the vampires for a while.
Famous last words.
"Today I will have you break off into your project groups and begin planning your mid-term scene. I will be assigning you certain scenes to re-enact and will require you to come up with the props and costumes on your own…"
Harry listened with growing horror as Mr. Thomas began going over the project and detailing what he expected. He was sure that the man was secretly out to get him, he just knew it.
Slowly his eyes, against his will, peaked over to the side and glanced at his blonde partner. Thank fully his glasses were on and didn't give him away, his posture though…
The blonde on the other hand had no such qualms about outright glaring at him. He could almost feel the heat from that venomous stare.
Rosalie almost smirked as her 'project partner' went rigid in his seat. It was almost amusing.
Mr. Thomas dismissed the class and immediately the noise level went up. While other students were dragging their seats into groups and rifling through backpacks, the seventeen year old male made no move to join up with his unfortunate partner.
He had hoped against hope that he'd escape the day relatively unscathed (or rather unbothered). That no longer seemed to be the case. Especially, both when he and his partner would rather ignore each other's existence than acknowledge it.
Conceding defeat and praying fervently that the vampire would be out of 'the loop' so to speak, Harry grudgingly turned his desk towards the blonde. Rosalie, for her part, just watched him with mild disdain before looking him over curiously.
Harry caught the look and nearly froze. He knew that look well.
He couldn't count how many times in the last month he'd spent in England alone that he got that look. The need to know about his person or what was behind his glasses. The worst was when the inquiries became even bolder, like that one annoying reporter Rito-something.
Time for a diversion.
Quickly glancing around the room to make sure his classmates were thoroughly focused, and therefore not listening, on their assignments to be distracted, Harry focused his attention back on Rosalie and spoke up. Which, judging by her expression, was not what she was expecting him to say.
"It was a hernia."
Before Rosalie could even voice her thoughts, Harry cut her off. Of course the blonde scowled fiercely at his audacity…and ludicrous solution. That was the best solution he could come up with?
Did he really believe she was a 'dumb' blonde? Apparently so.
"You do know what a hernia is, right?"
He had a long way to go before he fooled her. After all she had decades of experience with Emmett alone. One year alone would have sufficed to make anyone an expert in spotting rather poor and pitiful excuses. And Emmett certainly had run the gamut…twice.
"I wouldn't have said I had one if I didn't know."
"Then define what it is."
"No."
"What?"
"I don't feel like it."
"You do know those are internal?"
"Sure."
"You don't know what one is."
"I never said that!"
"You didn't have to."
Harry just shrugged. He wasn't going to argue semantics. Besides, he was trying to divert her attention. He wasn't sure if Jasper and the Bastard told anyone of their encounter, but he wouldn't trust to hope.
"Since when do hernias make you bleed?"
"Who says I was bleeding?" Rosalie glared at him.
"Have you looked at your car lately?"
"Why? It didn't suddenly sprout fur or grow wings and fly away did it?"
The blonde vampiress was beginning to hate that knowing smirk the cretin was flashing at her. It didn't help that she couldn't read his eyes either with the glasses. Rosalie didn't appreciate being laughed at or toyed with for any reason.
Harry on the other hand was enjoying himself. He hadn't been able to annoy anyone (aside from the Pervert, but that didn't really count) since Seamus was killed.
"Oh, oh, I know!! There was this button and if you press it, it makes the car fly like…like magic."
"There's no such thing as magic."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"What are you? The Queen."
"And if I was."
"And if you were…I'd be some fluffy bunny somewhere."
"You couldn't be one even if you tried…and then you'd fail…miserably… though you do have the mental capacity of a mere rodent now that I think of it."
"You know what?" he paused as the words failed him. Rosalie started smirking in victory.
"What?"
"Chicken butt."
"What?"
"Ooh, in yo' face."
Rosalie just blinked before scowling. Really, they were lucky that the entire class hadn't started staring at them. It was embarrassing to even converse with this imbecile.
"Where the hell did you here that?"
Harry took on a rather smug air. He had actually picked up some of the local slang around the entrance to the magical alley, not that he'd enlighten the vampire. Still, it was good to know his skills at annoying people hadn't been tarnished during the war.
"Um…tv?" The questioning tone did nothing for Rosalie's rising ire.
"You don't have electricity." Harry gave her a slow measuring look.
"How do you know that? Are you some psycho-stalker chit?"
"I think you mean chick."
"Why would I be calling you a baby chicken? They're sooo much cuter…" Harry paused for a moment, as if pondering, "and nicer."
Rosalie ruthlessly squashed the urge to do Brevan bodily harm. She would not get suckered into this fool's game. She was, after all, the adult of the two and therefore more mature.
"You need electricity to run the TV, ignoramus."
"Oh, so that's how it works."
"Now I know you're being recalcitrant in the most idiotic fashion."
"Wait…what's a TV."
"A small box where you fry your brain."
"You can do that?"
"Do what?"
"Fry your brains?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"No I'm not giving you a baby goat, it would be traumatized…for eternity."
Rosalie gave into her desire and let her hand fly. The resounding smack of her cuff on the back of Harry's head was lost in the din of the class's many voices.
"Ow, what was that for?" Harry barely contained his pout, rubbing the back of his head. He could tell that there was going to be a goose egg before the day's end.
"For being and idiot."
"Is it a crime to be an idiot? Seriously?" Harry was almost, almost, grinning maniacally, "Blimey, you yanks are brutal."
"Why do I even bother." Rosalie rubbed her temples. Harry gleefully rubbed his mental hands together. Almost there.
"Ooh, you mean a tele, right." Rosalie's eyebrow started ticking as her free began twitching. As if it took supreme effort for her to not strangle him.
"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" The twitching became more violent.
"Where'd you come out of? The Middle Ages?" The blonde snapped.
"How did you know?" The sardonic subtlety was lost to the vampire. Harry was almost doing a victory dance. He was also acutely aware that they were having the entire conversation in low tones, which in light of what he was attempting to do, was probably a good thing.
"That's not what I meant." Rosalie, in a valiant attempt to squash her more violent tendencies, growled.
"Perhaps, but I did…" Harry almost stumbled over his response. If this kept up any longer, he stood a very good chance of confusing himself too in the process. Sometimes he was trying to be too clever for his own good.
"What? No you are not distracting me again."
"I wasn't trying to, so back to the tele."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well we were talking about television, anyways maybe mine runs on magic, so it doesn't need electricity." It was a moment before the blonde to realize what train of thought the idiot was following.
The desk cracked under the force of Rosalie's grip. Luckily the rest of the class wasn't paying attention as the din rose and projects worked on.
One of Harry's eyebrows rose over the top of his glasses. "Bloody hell, wouldn't want you to raise your blood pressure too much…on second thought never mind, you don't even have a pulse to begin with, do you?" the last part was phrased so innocently that it took all of the blonde's substantial willpower to keep from lunging at the nuisance. Though, the desk did pop for a brief moment before Rosalie slammed it down and glared venomously.
He knew the last part was a bit over the top and more than a bit callous. Harry also doubted, the moment he spoke, that the blonde would forgive him for the slur. But all was fair in love and war, especially where his privacy was concerned.
Besides if she was too distracted and angry with him to talk to him that was less of a concern off his shoulders. The last thing he need was a bunch of overly curious immortals snooping around in his business.
"By the way, I've been workin' on my 'mer'can." He started slipping into something of a southern drawl, "liiike it."
"No."
Rosalie fumed in her seat. For once she agreed with Edward, she was going to kill the idiot and then ENJOY drinking his blood.
The bell rang signifying the ten minute break in between classes.
Harry smirked. Crisis avoided and one nosy vampire shut down. Never mind that they didn't get any work done. He was sure there would be plenty of opportunities in the future. Or if all else failed, he'd memorize their assigned section and hope for the best.
Now for his getaway…
……
The blonde had all but tore out of her class in a fit of rage, scattering the students before her like a flock of birds. No one, and she meant, no one had ever dared insult her like that…well, at least not anyone living.
Edward had only ignored her, and Emmett was playful, but that juvenile simpleton had flat out insulted her.
Rosalie scowled at the congregation around her locker. She was in no particular mood to deal with overly curious delinquents…otherwise known as siblings.
The vampiric beauty just shoved past them before anyone could shoot off a question, and began loading her book into the locker. The others waited quietly on either side.
Jasper, had she been looking, had a hint of a smirk hovering just beneath his neutral façade. He had expected as much considering the past confrontations the Brit had with Edward, though the blonde had to admit, Brevan Hunter had definitely out done himself if he could get under the Ice-Queen's impenetrable skin. She wasn't exactly personable, like Alice.
Rosalie had finally finished exchanging her books before shutting her locker with a slam, punctuating her irritation. She fixed a heated glare on her fellow flaxen haired immortal.
"Never ask me to do that again." She hissed before stomping off, gracefully, to her next class. Not allowing time for any questions.
Then again, Rosalie had never truly been a verbose individual either.
……
Harry actually dreaded the next couple periods of his day. That was what kept him from enjoying his minor victory earlier in English. Because all of which were to be spent in the library.
With his tutor.
With his perceptive, vampiric, intelligent tutor.
With his perceptive, vampiric, intelligent tutor who could make his academic life hell.
He was so screwed.
Harry groaned into the book he'd face planted in. He couldn't very well skip this part of the day, no matter how appealing the option. If he were to be frank with himself, he didn't have the guts to back out.
Or was that energy?
He couldn't tell anymore. All those years of Hermione conditioning had left an indelible mark upon his academic motivation.
Okay. He'd just have to act aloof, smooth…normal. Nothing was wrong with him. Nothing at all.
The other day had been a fluke. Nothing more.
Harry groaned again. This wasn't going to work. Perhaps he should just give up now?
Nahh. That would be too easy. And he was never one for letting people know about his emotionally tragic sob story.
The young wizard barely suppressed his groan when he heard the telltale sound of his tutor's dropping on the table. Well that and the distinct feeling that he'd come to associate with the other male.
Jasper, for his part, just glanced at the mortal in amusement. Seeing him worn out and fatigued reminded Jasper of the fragility of the human life and decided to hild off on his questions. Besides, after what he saw this morning, Brevan deserved a small reprieve, if only as a thank you for the entertainment.
To the young wizard's immense surprise, the blonde didn't even broach the subject, which made Harry suspicious. He had, after all, admitted to being related to both Princess and the Closet Pervert.
The time they spent together, studying was rather pleasant actually. Somehow it led to him sharing one of his escapades with Seamus, and a reluctant Blaise, in pranking and how they wreaked havoc on the camps underwear supply.
"Are you serious?" Jasper laughed when Harry had arrived at the point where there was the inevitable discover of frilly, lacey undergarments in all of the men's uniforms. Needless to say, the infamous trio made themselves scarce for a while.
"No, he's dead." The words popped out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them, freezing the teen in his spot. He hadn't meant to say that.
Jasper looked up sharply at the frozen boy. However, all the good natured banter ground to a halt at the awkwardness of the moment.
It had been a tasteless joke he'd had with his squad. Nothing more, nothing less.
Being with Jasper felt like being back with them. He felt so at ease that it just slipped out.
Morbid humor during a grim time, pun intended.
The blonde's company was dangerous. The wizard just clammed up and went back to his work. He just had to wait for the end of the day.
Harry grimaced. So much for acting normal.
……
"You suck at the whole spying thing." They had gone hunting as soon as they set their bags down in the door. Rosalie was still rather peeved about her encounter that morning.
"Emmett."
"Seriously. All I'm saying is that I expected more, you did have two brothers right?"
"They were children." She sniffed and looked the other way, "besides, I had more important things to do."
"Like what?"
"Looking perfect."
Emmett just stared (and blinked a few times). She had brothers, and she never tried to get them in trouble? Well heck, he constantly tried to get his own siblings in trouble just 'cause.
"Really?" the disbelief was still apparent.
"Emmett, have you forgotten who you're talking to?"
"Now that would be suicide…and I'm not suicidal." With a sigh the large vampire ran his hand through his hair, "Babe, all I'm saying is even I could have turned that conversation on him."
Sadly as Rosalie reflected on the repartee, she concurred. She'd never tell Emmett that…even if he was smarter than everyone believed.
Then the thought struck her. Perhaps Emmett would have better luck? After all it takes one to know one.
The blonde meandered off into the wood. She'd have to think on that.
……
Harry grumbled as he finished sponging the kitchen counter down. It would hardly do for him to get food poisoning or become sick just because he neglected to sterilize his counter tops.
Cleaning had become something of a relaxant for him. It was familiar, mindless, and oddly enough, calming.
Well that and he was erasing traces of blood. With how curious his neighbors were getting, he decided to err on the side of caution and clean up as much as possible.
The whole day was a mess. Yeah, he did manage to keep the blonde from putting him through the ringer only to let it slip an hour later in the library. If he was trying to lay-low then this was definitely the worst move he could have made…well besides that one time he and Seamus raided Neville's underwear drawer to prank him and yeah, good times.
The floor boards creaked in the hall. Harry froze, the hairs rising on the back of his neck at the sound and slowly turned around, palming his hidden blade.
There standing ominously, staring at him with maliciously yellow eyes, was one of the Trackers. Harry had known, after his confrontation with the scout, that they would be coming for him, he just hadn't expected this soon.
"So, you finally found me."
"No, we always knew where you were."
"I see." Without warning they lunged.
The shattering of glass echoed through the wood.
:Tsudzuku:
A/N: (*Wheeze*) remind me to never again write such a long chapter (dies). My plan had been to be finished with this story by August 31st (rants at plot muses). You all have been tortured enough with the wait, yes? (A/N: Sorry for the puns, most were unintentional, eheheh)
I want to point out three HP/Twilight stories. Thank these authors profusely for keeping me from being completely disgusted with the genre. They are: With Wings of Feathers and Glue by withRainyEyes, Signs of Waking by hangedfire, and Frozen by TanyaPotter.
As for the lengthy author's notes, as one gracious reviewer suggested, it might help for me to publish an companion appendices to help with the background info (would you like that?).
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The blood. I made multiple references on how Harry didn't smell like normal human. It all ties into what happened to Harry during the war (and Ron)…
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Poppet: it's sort of an endearment, a pet name. It's derisive (a way to call him weak) and almost affectionate (like for a pet). To the reviewer Catzi, the wizard himself isn't anyone specifically from the books, hence the lack of name.
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The flashbacks are written in reverse sequential order. So you know the aftermath before you know the cause. The letter flashback was from Saving Private Ryan. The attack was similar to Cloud Strife's Geostigma from Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children. And a little more Count of Monte Cristo (movie) reference.
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Ah, about the Edward/Harry relationship, as one reviewer remarked: Edward may not like Harry (and vice versa), but he can't ignore him completely either.
I think what most people forget is to have that solid foundation to any and all relationships, there has to be two distinct and extremely important pieces: Trust and Respect, something that is missing from most ficts.
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You know, I had an epiphany this summer. Twilight is almost a carbon copy of Tuck Everlasting plot-wise. Just like Harry Potter could be directly correlated with Wizard of Earthsea. Defend all you want, I ain't changing my opinion.
Echo 10/09/09
