DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight – they belong to J. K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer, respectively. Also, within this story I make use of a few small ideas from Supernatural, Vampire Diaries and Anita Blake – the credit for which goes to Erik Kripke (& Co.), L. J. Smith and Laurell K. Hamilton, respectively. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: AU, Slash and Het pairings will feature in this story, but the main pairing will be Slash (that being Edward and Harry). For now there will be nothing graphic, but that might change later.
Author's Note: So, this is going to be a different sort of chapter in that it is mostly informative. There's going to be lot's of dialogue and quite a few questions are going to be answered – not all, mind you, but a good deal of them. So if it seems a bit slower, please bare with me. This is necessary, and about time, I think :P That said… Thank you so much to everyone reading and enjoying this story. Onward… :)
/A\
I'm so high I can hear heaven
I'm so high I can hear heaven
Oh, but heaven, no heaven don't hear me
And they say that a hero could save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold on to the wings of the eagles
Watch as we all fly away
Someone told me that love would all save us
But how can that be, look what love gave us
A world full of killing
And blood-spilling
That world never came
And they say that a hero could save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold on to the wings of the eagles
Watch as we all fly away
»Chad Kroeger – Hero«
/A\
Chapter Eight:
Edward held on to Harry for as long as he needed it. He cared nothing, just then, for the looks he was, no doubt, attracting – be they soft smiles or confused frowns. Seeing Bella when they had first arrived had drawn his attention to the fact that he had yet to tell Harry of his failed relationship with her, and his befuddled, false notions of what his true feelings had been towards her. In the present time, though, he allowed those thoughts to float away from him. There would be time for that later.
His Chosen never did ask for much, feeling as though he needed to stand tall with his head held high, regardless of the weight of his burden. In those small moments, however, when he did decide to lean on Edward, the Vampire indulged him as much as he could. Those moments were always so short, though, when in the presence of others.
Soon enough, Harry lifted his head in order to meet Edward's gaze. He had a hesitant, questioning look in his verdant eyes that invariably pulled at his heart like nothing else could. No words were exchanged, but the Vampire immediately knew what his love was asking. The corner of his mouth lifted into a small half-smile and he gave a small nod. Harry took in a deep, calming breath and nodded back.
Pulling gently out of the embrace, Edward watched as his mate turned to face all present once more, though he remained close to the young Vampire's side. He knew that Harry felt at least some trepidation, but looking at him one would never be able to tell. Pride surged through Edward at that, swift and strong; there truly was no one like his beloved.
"There are a number of things that we need to discuss and clear up before the Council of Forks gets here," Harry said, his voice steady, unyielding. He looked to Hermione, who nodded her agreement and support, coming to stand at his side as well. "That gives us about twenty minutes, give or take, which really isn't much. Therefore, the least amount of interruptions would be appreciated."
He did not sound derogatory in the least when requesting this, nor did he come across as patronizing. This, to Edward, was a testament of his great leadership qualities – qualities that Harry had once tried to deny, but eventually came to see as very much a part of him.
"First things first," he continued, turning to face Jacob and Bella now, "please try not to take offence at my next request, Jacob Black, but the situation we now find ourselves in is precarious, to say the least; every precaution must be taken."
Edward believed that Harry and Jacob had never before met each other. Seeing them now, he noted the formality present between them and knew this to be true. However, they did seem to have been aware of each other, at least, for some time and in some way.
Harry had paused after speaking, waiting for some acknowledgement from the grave-looking younger Black (as his father, as well as the other tribe Elders – Sue Clearwater and Quil Ateara Sr. – had now joined them out in the clearing). This came in the form of a single nod, after which Harry went on.
"Can Miss Swan be trusted?"
Jacob's face darkened considerably and Edward tensed his muscles, ready to spring at the slightest threat to Harry – not that his love needed his protection, being more than able to handle it on his own. It was merely instinct, Edward supposed. His Chosen, however, remained perfectly collected in the face of the Alpha's ire; in fact, it seemed that he had fully expected such a reaction.
"How dare –" Jacob began indignantly, his face screwing up in anger, his fists clenching at his sides. He did not get to finish, though.
"Jacob," his father interrupted, his tone firm, yet placating at once.
In the next instant, the young man had his heated glare turned on his father, but then realized just who he was looking at and lowered his gaze respectfully, though he was still clearly vexed.
"This is Lord Harry Potter, Jake," he said softly, and by way of introduction, though not as it would be made in the usual way. "You must feel, having completed your Spirit Quest, what and who he is, to some extent at least."
Jacob calmed himself through his breathing before nodding his confirmation. Edward wished to know exactly what was meant by this, but, surprisingly, found that Jacob's mind was no longer open to him as it once was. He could still enter, certainly, but he could not concretely discern the individual thoughts as he could before. Now, the Alpha's mind was a mass of color and movement, seemingly scattered. The Vampire frowned, wondering how such a thing had happened. He figured, logically, that it must have something to do with this Quest mentioned by Billy Black, but was unaware beyond that. And then it turned out to be pointless attempting to read Billy's mind, as the Quileute Elder studiously kept his mind blank. Edward huffed mentally. Was it not typical that when he actually wanted to read minds his gift was obstructed?
Getting nowhere, Edward turned once more to the current conversation.
"Then you must also know," Billy continued evenly, "that if he is asking such a question, he must have good reason."
The younger Black clenched his jaw, still agitated, but nodded begrudgingly nonetheless.
"Yes," he finally ground out, when Harry simply continued to wait expectantly for an answer to his earlier question. "Yes, Bella can be trusted."
"Then I'll require an oath," Harry stated simply, his tone business-like, as though discussing a contract (which, Edward supposed, he was).
"An oath?" asked Bella uncertainly, speaking for the first time since they had been at the Reservation.
"It is a binding magical contract," Hermione supplied in full lecture mode; Edward could not help but to smile at this. "You swear, on your life, that you will not speak of anything that you hear now, being discussed amongst present company, and Harry's magic will tie you to your word. There is no way break or deny a magical oath once it is completed – it is the strongest assurance we can receive that you will do as you say. It would, effectively, secure your trustworthiness."
"And when you say I have to swear on my life," Bella said slowly, "you mean that I'd really…?"
"Yes," Hermione answered when the teenaged girl's voice trailed off, knowing what she was asking. "Should you willingly, consciously, break the contract, you will lose your life."
"What?" exclaimed Jacob, incensed. "How could you even ask for something like that?"
"This is the ultimate reassurance we may receive," Harry stated plainly, feeling no guilt at asking for such, as he once would have. "One swears on the most valuable thing he or she has to offer, to lose, so that it can be certain that they will follow through. If Bella had magic, she would have sworn on that. As it is, her life is the most valuable thing to her. She may refuse to give such an oath, of course, but she will then have to leave the Reservation – for I refuse to disclose such delicate information with such uncertain conditions. Either that, or you may go ignorant, should you decide that the information is not that important to you. Those are the only options available."
Jacob looked as though he wished to say more, to rant and rave at Harry, but was quieted with a simple touch to his shoulder from Bella.
"I'll do it," she said firmly, her voice unwavering.
"What?" the Alpha asked, astounded. "Bella, you don't have –"
"Jake," she interrupted softly, looking him straight in the eyes as she spoke. "We cannot claim that I can be trusted, only to back out when I'm asked to prove my trustworthiness. That doesn't say much about me, does it? Besides," she continued when it seemed that he would argue nevertheless, "I'm not planning to betray anything said here and now to anyone, so I have nothing to worry about, right?"
The question was voiced to Harry and Hermione specifically.
"That is correct," Harry answered simply.
"Bella…" Jacob began, but really had no words strong enough to deter her, as was plain from the determination shining through her eyes.
"What do I have to do?" she asked, moving towards Harry with a steadying breath.
Harry did not reply, but flexed his right hand once, twice, three times, as though to get the blood pumping in his veins. Then he merely held out his hand, like he would give her a handshake. Even so, Bella froze for a time, just staring at the hand, awed. Edward followed her line of sight, wondering at the odd reaction.
Someone let out a small gasp, having speculated at the same thing as he, doubtless.
Golden and silver spirals were currently swirling around Harry's hand and up his forearm, up to his elbow. They glowed in an unearthly, utterly beautiful way, mesmerizing all present as they continued to curl and flow – like liquid light.
"Take my hand," Harry said gently, coaxing Bella from her trance, "repeat after me, and the magic will do the rest."
Bella nodded hesitantly, but not out of fear, as far as Edward could tell. She seemed, instead, to be marveling at the thought of actually being allowed to experience Harry's magic so closely. Gingerly, she reached out and placed her smaller hand in Harry's; he enclosed it gently, being careful not to shock Bella in any way.
The teenager gasped, nonetheless, and Jacob tensed thinking her hurt. It did not take too long to realize, however, that it was a sound of wonderment, not pain.
Bella gripped Harry's hand a bit tighter, the visible magic twisting and turning over her hand and arm now, as well.
"Repeat after me," Harry said again, signaling the start of the actual oath. "I, Isabella Marie Swan…"
Bella recited the words back, as requested, her voice shaky to begin with, but growing steadily stronger.
"Do pledge not to divulge, discuss or speak of…"
"Do pledge not to divulge, discuss or speak of…"
"Anything said hereafter, amongst present company…"
"Anything said hereafter, amongst present company…"
"To anyone outside of aforementioned company..."
"To anyone outside of aforementioned company…"
"On my life, I do so swear it."
"On my life, I do so swear it."
"So mote it be."
"So mote it be."
Instantly, upon completion of the vow, the trails of magic, thus far twirling leisurely, raced in opposite directions – one shooting into Harry's chest, the other into Bella's. They each, for a single moment, glowed a brilliant golden hue before the light fell inwards, as though breathed in by their very cores.
Bella inhaled deeply and opened glazed-looking eyes, which had shut sometime after the pledge. She looked perfectly fine, considering the weight of such an act, but as soon as Harry let go of her hand, the seventeen-year old swayed on the spot. Her eyes fluttered slightly, probably due to her apparent dizziness.
"What's wrong?" asked Jake worriedly, immediately at her side. "Did something happen? Is Bella okay?"
"She's absolutely fine," Harry reassured him, smiling slightly at the great care being shown by the Alpha. "She is simply not used to having magic in her system; it has consumed a great deal of her energy. Bella just needs to rest now."
Harry looked around them for a moment, and then walked over to a relatively flat part of the land.
"Here," he said, motioning for Jacob to bring Bella to him. "Sit."
As he requested Bella to do so, he waved his hand in a wide arc over the empty space. The air shimmered and distorted for a second and, in the time it would have taken one to blink, a plush armchair appeared.
Too tired to be astonished, though her lips did twitch, Edward watched as Bella sank gratefully into the seat conjured for her, even as Jacob eyed the chair suspiciously. Edward rolled his eyes at that, which was mainly due to his mistrust of his Chosen. While the Vampire could admit that it was to be expected, and even quite understandable, he did not have to like it.
"All right," Harry said, instantly back to business. "One reason that I do not wish to impart this knowledge to the Council of Forks is that it would put them in unnecessary, but grave danger. The major reason, however, is much more distressing, in some ways."
He paused here, turning to share a solemn look with Billy.
"We have a mole," he finished significantly. "Someone is passing information – vital information – on to Dumbledore."
The Quileute Chief closed his eyes for a time, as though in pain. When he reopened them, though, a deep and undeniable fire was burning in them. In that moment, Edward realized just how great an Alpha he would have made.
"Is this at the root of the attack our people have now suffered?" he asked, his voice hard, but unable to belie the hurt and betrayal lacing his words.
"Yes," Harry answered plainly, but commiserating as well.
"But…" Bella began hesitantly, her eyes wide, disbelieving, at the implications of Harry's words. "But I know those people, or the kids, at least. They… it just doesn't seem like it's possible. How can you be so sure that this mole is one of them?"
"Your doubt is reasonable, Bella," Harry replied gently, a touch of sympathy in his gaze. "I, too, would like nothing more than to be able to trust the Council of Forks. However, I cannot allow sentimentality to cloud my judgment, distort my thinking. Until we know for certain whom the spy is, I would rather that the few remain ignorant, than allow the many to be placed in harm's way due to the information leak. Can you understand that, Bella?"
Edward heard as Jasper's, and even Rosalie's, respect grew for Harry upon hearing these words. They could both relate to him much better now, they thought.
"Yes," Bella answered slowly, a slight frown on her young face. "But still – how can you be sure?"
"Process of elimination," Harry said with a small shrug. He continued when he saw that Bella was about to ask for clarification.
"I trust Edward unconditionally," he said, making it sound not like a hyperbole or compliment, but a simple statement of fact. Edward could not hold back a small smile at that, even as Bella's eyes took on a calculating look. "And if he tells me that his family can be trusted, then I trust them as well – not as much perhaps, but close enough. Regarding the Quileute tribe, the Elders have heard of, if not actually seen, enough to never be traitorous in such a way. The pack is simpler; their minds, their thoughts, are completely open to each other, especially their Alpha. They cannot block him; if the mole was one of them, Jacob would know instantly. As for Jacob, himself, he would not have been able to complete his Spirit Quest were he a traitor – he would not have come back at all. That only leaves the Council of Forks."
"You don't suspect me, right?" Bella asked, although it seemed as though she was merely confirming something she already knew.
"No, I don't," answered Harry with a heart-stopping smile, his beautiful gem-like eyes shining. "I just don't know you. Besides, Dumbledore would require someone well-informed, someone inside the circle – you were not even aware there was a Council up until recently, I'd imagine."
"A few days ago, actually," the teen nodded, some apprehension making its way into her posture. Edward wondered why, but Jacob answered that for him, somewhat.
"No one expects you to break records or anything, Bells," he reassured her lightly, squeezing her shoulder with affection. "You don't have to aim to top your dad. Hell, I'm not even going to try beating out mine."
"Suck up," Billy grumbled good-naturedly, even as his lips twitched.
"Just facts, old man," the Alpha said with a shrug. "That's just the way it is."
"Time," Jasper said then. It was a simple word, but the weight of it was felt instantly.
"Right," agreed Harry, getting back into the seriousness of the situation without difficulty. "With regard to this next bit of information, I believe it is only fair that you know – especially if you are to decide to see this fight through. It is the answer to the question I am almost certain is at the forefront of everyone's minds."
As he said this, Harry looked to Jasper specifically; he knew, probably, that if no one else considered the question he was referring to, Jasper would have.
"What are you?" Jasper asked in response, confirming Edward's thoughts.
Harry nodded, drawing in a long breath. He looked to Edward briefly, for silent support as well as agreement that he could reveal this to the present group. The bronze-haired Vampire, being the only one apart from Harry and Hermione, who knew exactly what type of being his Chosen was, nodded his affirmation. He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, squeezing gently to give as much quiet strength as he could through the touch.
Edward may trust everyone in attendance enough to have them be made aware of this, but he would not take kindly to anyone who held it against his love. He knew who Harry was – the man, his heart and his soul – and therefore would never even think to judge him based on what he was. There really was nothing to judge him on in that regard, in any case. Edward knew, however, how devastating ignorance could be, and how cruel people could be when they lacked essential knowledge. But Harry had suffered enough at the hands of others with blind judgments, as Edward had been witness to a number of times, and he would not allow it to happen now.
He tightened his grip once again, this time letting him know that he was not alone in this, and then relaxed his hold. He did not let go entirely, though.
"I am," Harry began slowly, still a bit hesitant with this bit of news, but forging on regardless, "a Daemon."
The silence that followed this revelation was mostly due to non-comprehension. The only knowledge of Daemons, or more accurately demons, that everyone else had was that of myths. No one else had ever heard of their actual existence, let alone come across any.
"Demons exist?" asked Emmett faintly, for clarity more so than curiosity.
"Daemon," Harry emphasized softly, a somewhat detached smile on his lovely features. "I am fairly confident that any fantastical inferences any of you are making are incorrect."
"In that case," said Jasper, his tone and thoughts both unbiased considering his lack of facts, "what exactly is a Daemon?"
"A Daemon is a being meant to keep the balance in the world – be it Natural or Supernatural," Harry explained, sounding for all the world as though he were reciting from a textbook. "Whenever darkness increases to such a degree, and at such a pace, as to tip the scales between light and dark, a Daemon is born."
"And how many of your kind are there?" asked Carlisle, his thirst for knowledge warring with his unease at learning that there was too much darkness in the world.
"Including me," Harry answered with a sad smile, "only one."
The gasps issued from Alice, Esme and even Rosalie matched the look of shocked sympathy on Carlisle's face. They all could only guess at the level of loneliness such a thing would undoubtedly bring about.
"You are the last of your kind?" Carlisle asked in a whisper.
"No, Dr Cullen –" Harry began, but was interrupted gently by the Cullen head.
"Carlisle, please," he requested, smiling softly. To Edward it seemed that his Sire had readily accepted his mate into their fold; he was beyond pleased and grateful.
"Carlisle, then," Harry returned with a smile of his own. "No, I am not the last. I am the only one of my kind."
"But what does that mean?" asked Emmett, not unkindly.
"A Daemon can only ever be born at a specific time," explained Harry, attempting to do so in a way that would alleviate the confusion instead of compound upon it. "We are also always born with a specific purpose – that of restoring the balance between light and dark. We are borne of Magic and created exclusively to fulfill this intent. The Forces that be, the power of the earth, allows us to be. Only one is ever created at any given time. And this time, that one would be me."
"But how could you possibly be expected to succeed at such a task on your own?" asked Esme, distressed on Harry's behalf. She always did have a big heart, and this was merely more proof of that fact.
"I would not be able to," said Harry simply, a heartbreaking smile on his face. "I am necessary, yes. It is not something that could be achieved without me, but that does not mean I can do it alone. This is why I beseech anyone willing and able to help. I do not deny that I require it."
"But why…" Carlisle began, before shaking his head and rephrasing his question. "How is it that we are unaware of the encroaching darkness, as you put it earlier? Should it not be… obvious?"
"Not necessarily," Harry replied seriously. "The acts of the adversaries may be explicit – as is generally the case with such beings. The darkness that feeds on such deeds, however, tends not to be. It creeps, slowly over time, building up in strength and influence, in the most subtle of ways. Darkness is not truly sentient, you see; it is the byproduct, basically, of the state of affairs, the state of the collective mind. Thus, feelings do not factor with it, directly, least of all impatience. It simply grows and grows, through thoughts, words and actions, until there is too much of it to fight. There are, of course, always signs of its advent, and of its intensification – if one knows what one is looking for."
"What sort of signs?" Jasper asked curiously, wondering if he had perhaps noted these symbols and simply not known what they were.
"Well," replied Harry, no doubt searching his mind for the signs that he believed would have been noticed by the others, "the weather would be the easiest sign, seeing as how everybody is aware of it, even if they do not know the meaning. You must all have noticed how unusually cold it has been for a while now."
Having received nods in confirmation to this, Harry continued.
"This is the darkness affecting the elements; these negative responses in the atmosphere, the environment around us, this is nature's way of reacting to the overwhelming gloom taking hold. For supernatural beings, this can be felt intrinsically as well. Because of the magic running through our cores, in whatever form, we are able to sense the alterations and atypical charges in the very air around us. You may not have known exactly what you have been feeling, but that does not change the fact that you have felt it, inexplicably – a coming storm."
"I have," Jasper stated softly, his brows furrowing as he assimilated this information, the other Vampires, and even Jacob, nodding their agreement. "I believe I have felt this change you speak of, unconsciously."
"How do we fight darkness?" whispered Alice, her eyes unseeing as she attempted to wrap her mind around such an abstract concept.
She was also thinking of the darkness of her own past, the blank in her memories of the time before she was turned. She knew more now, of course, thanks to James.
She knew that her own parents faked her death and placed her in an insane asylum, due to the Visions she has always been able to receive, even before becoming a Vampire. She knew that she was hunted, as a human, by James because of the fact that she was his Singer – the one human whose scent would bring about bloodlust unmatched in the Vampire – as Bella was Edward's Singer (though he had, obviously, managed to control it). And Alice now knew that this was also the reason she was turned. Another Vampire, in a last ditch attempt to save the Seer, had changed her so that she could at least escape James, not be drained by him. That Vampire was no more – James had killed him in revenge.
All of this, however, could not replace actual memories; Edward, too, knew this well. And so Alice still felt as though she walked around with something of a black hole. For the most part, this feeling has been alleviated by Jasper. There were moments, though….
"We cannot," Harry answered simply, a sad smile on his features. "And that is why we don't even attempt to. What we can fight, however, is the root cause behind the growing darkness."
"Dumbledore," said Jasper, a hard note in his tone. He never did take kindly to any pain caused to his mate, no matter the source.
"Dumbledore," Harry repeated in agreement.
It was at that moment that three vehicles, two cars and a minivan, parked at the very edge of the field where they were all currently gathered together. Out of these vehicles stepped thirteen people in total. Five out of these thirteen were easily recognized – Charlie Swan, of course, was known by all as the Chief Officer of Forks; the other four were teenagers that attended Forks High School – Angela and Jessica were to be expected, the Cullens having seen them in action already, and with them walked Eric Yorkie and Mike Newton. This was surprising, but no more so than two human girls taking on a newborn Vampire, and so could more easily be accepted. The oncoming Council set a fast, but still human, pace across the meadow, making their way towards those already present.
"The Council of Forks," Hermione stated to no one in particular, watching with the rest as they made their walk.
"Couldn't wait to see us again, could you?" asked Jessica jovially as soon as she was close enough (still thinking in terms of natural senses, as opposed to supernatural).
One would think, with secrets revealed, that there would be some indicator, some physical and visible change in the person whose secret it was. That was not the case, however. The two girls looked the same as they always did. Jessica stood at a height of about five feet and one inch; she truly did prove that dynamite came in small packages. Her soft brown and wavy hair was tied back that day, and her clear blue eyes were the opposite of the weather – one could almost see the sunshine in them.
Angela was taller than her friend, standing at around five feet and seven inches, and was slimmer than Jessica as well (who possessed more curves, and not in an unappealing way). Her hair was a darker, chocolate brown, was straighter and shorter. She had also opted to tie it up on this overcast day. Angela's eyes, while deep brown, also seemed to shine with inner light and mirth. Her spectacles did nothing to hide this.
Edward and Emmett, both, returned the wide grin the teenage girls were sporting.
"With the way you two left us hanging like that?" asked Emmett with a scoff. "Of course we couldn't wait!"
"Not that we are looking for any… cheeseburger specials this time around either," Edward put in good-humoredly, his lips twitching into a lopsided smile.
"Wouldn't say no to the fries, though," Emmett added with a chuckle, giving Angela a friendly wink.
Both girls simply laughed at the reference to their encounter with the Cullens. The air between the two teenaged friends and Edward and Emmett might have been amicable, as the telepath noted, but this was not the case concerning the parents now in attendance – apart from Chief Swan, perhaps, who had a neutral look upon his face. He did eye Bella and the armchair she was seated in with a raised brow, however, seeing as how out of place such a sight was in an open field.
"You guys… know each other?" asked Bella, bemused, as she looked back and forth between the two girls and the Cullens.
"Oh! Yeah…" Jessica replied, turning to Bella with a semi-guilty grin. "Funny story, actually…"
"I'm sure it is," Harry said dryly, though he could not keep all of the fondness out of his voice.
"Harry!" Angela exclaimed happily, facing him directly. "It was Jessica."
Edward could not help the chuckle that escaped him at the deadpan nature of Angela's tattle.
"What?" Jessica burst out, playing along, as she rounded on her friend. "How could it have possibly been my fault? It was completely random!"
"Random or not, Jess," Angela replied, shaking her head in mock-sympathy, "you have to admit, between the two of us, you are the magnet. These things are just attracted to you, like flies to –"
"Delightful as that analogy, no doubt, is," Harry interrupted firmly, "I think we would all like to be spared, Angela."
Angela simply gave him a sheepish smile in response.
"Why has the Council meeting been moved, Lord Potter?" asked one of the older woman from the Forks Council.
Edward was almost certain that this was Angela's mother. Apart from the fact that she had arrived with Angela, the resemblance she had to the teenaged girl was striking. She stood at the same height, and had the same slim build. Her chocolate brown hair was longer, streaked with sparse gray hairs, though this simply added to the distinguished air that she carried. She, too, wore glasses, thin and stylish wire frames, but over sharp gray eyes. Her features, while similar to Angela's, were finer, slighter. On the surface she looked rather delicate, but Edward was willing to wager that this was a false impression. Her gaze did much to attest the underlying strength within her.
"The Quileute pack," Harry began gravely, looking to get straight to the point, "if you will notice behind me, has been attacked. Almost every member was severely injured. They are stable now, but a ruthless assault such as this cannot go unheeded."
The woman's eyes widened and shocked exclamations were heard from almost every Forks Council member. All of them craned their necks to view the gazebo in the background, taking in every victim.
"But how…?" another female member of the Forks Council gasped out, her light blue eyes seemingly glued to the morbid sight before her. "The Quileute pack is unknown…"
This woman Edward did recognize. She, along with her husband, owned the camping and outdoor store on the edge of Forks. The Cullens shopped there often in order to corroborate their cover as avid campers. She was also Mike's mother. Edward would have suspected her least of all, if asked to guess at the identities of the Forks Council members. Karen Newton had always seemed like someone who adored being glamorous, with her small stature, high heels and perfect manicures. Her light blonde hair was always perfectly styled as well, and her make-up never out of place. To say that Edward was surprised was a great understatement.
"The presence of a mole among us has been confirmed," Hermione replied to Karen's earlier statement, her tone severe – she did not take kindly to betrayal, it appeared.
The Council members had varying reactions to this piece of news. Angela and Eric had deep frowns upon their brows, clearly aggrieved that there was a traitor among them, but also attempting to figure out who could possibly have done such a thing. Jessica's jaw and fists were clenched in barely restrained anger, no doubt wanting the culprit before her right then, so that she may take a swing at him or her. Mike had a troubled look upon his face, which was trained on the ground, as he bit into his bottom lip. The adults had shocked expressions, in different degrees, upon their features, but they held themselves together a lot better than their children (for Edward was certain, now, that these were familial relations, per group).
"It was always a very real possibility," Charlie said with a firm and steady voice, taking the reins before the Forks Council could lose themselves in any feelings too negative. Having always seen it in him, it still caught Edward what a strong and commanding presence Chief Swan was. "We now know and must deal with it accordingly, but we cannot let it disillusion us. We have a duty to fulfill – that must come first, personal feelings aside."
Many of the Council members were nodding even before Charlie had finished speaking. It was extremely easy to see how respected and trusted he was. Though Edward did not know for certain, he was rather sure that Chief Swan was the official leader of the Council of Forks.
"Agreed," Harry stated immediately, settling the matter in the way he was always able – by mere presence alone. "Now, in order to go forward, it is imperative that we all know each other to, at least, a basic extent."
Many nodded, and still more adjusted their postures, standing taller with more serious demeanors.
"Do take these introductions to be vital, mundane an occurrence though it may usually be," he continued, looking around at each individual there. "I am almost certain that we will all be fighting this war together, some more closely than others. We need each other – understand the importance of that."
More nods followed these words, and if anyone was lacking in attention previously, they most definitely weren't now. That was the power that surrounded and infused Edward's Chosen, the Vampire thought to himself, whether he deliberately caused it or not.
"All right then," Harry then went on, satisfied that he was being taken seriously. "Seeing as how the Quileute Council and pack are already familiar with the Council of Forks, and the Cullen family, the only familiarizations that now need to occur are those between the Cullens and Forks Council.
"Charlie, whom everyone knows, I'm sure, is the leader of the Council of Forks. The Swan family founded the Council many years ago. The younger members of the Council you also know – Angela, Jessica, Eric and Mike. There families, however, you won't be familiar with. We have Lady Diane Weber and Lord Phillip Weber," Harry began, walking over to each person as he introduced him or her. "Sharon and Peter Stanley, Karen and Lord Elliot Newton, Peter Yorkie, who is Eric's father, and Bradford Yorkie, who is Eric's elder brother."
Harry then turned to the Cullens, introducing each of them in much the same way, starting with Carlisle, as the head and Sire (for the most part, though Edward realized that Harry did not know about Alice and Jasper being adopted).
"Now," Harry continued, taking a breath, unneeded though it was, going on to further explain the Council "everybody within the Council of Forks plays their own role. This is necessary considering the immense responsibility that they have taken upon themselves – and quite admirably at that.
"Chief Swan, apart from the fact that he has been raised with vast knowledge of our world, is a natural leader. He is responsible for ensuring the unity of the Forks Council, and the reason they remain strong in that regard. Next, you perhaps would not realize, simply based on the titles I have used when introducing the Weber's and the Newton patriarch, but they are part of the magical world. They are not supernatural; they are human beings, however, they are gifted. You have already witnessed this gift in Angela. They are what you would call witches and wizards."
"Don't witches and wizards have to use wands, or something?" blurted Emmett, seemingly unable to help himself.
"Yeah, because every other witch and wizard you've met used a wand, right?" said Jessica, blue eyes sparkling. There was no malice in her tone, though; she was clearly amused.
Emmett grinned, giving a massive shrug and conceding the point: he really did not know what he was talking about.
"Actually," Angela said, deciding to be the one who explained, pride evident in her tone, "we only use wands when we're younger, for the first few years of truly making use of our gift. When we're younger we have difficulty accurately directing the magic we call upon. That's why we require a focus, and wands are the best for that. Once we have a greater grasp of what we can do and how, it becomes less and less necessary. Of course, for the more difficult and intricate spells or intentions, we tend to use wands as well – to lessen the risk of doing something wrong."
"And the gift, I take it," said Carlisle, ever the scholar, "is hereditary."
"It is, yes," Angela replied with a smile. It was easy to see the appreciation and pride she held for her gift, and her abilities because of it. "You shouldn't misunderstand, however. Our gift is not that we have magic; it is that we can borrow and channel it through the use of rituals and potions. What you saw me do in the woods the other night, that was a standard ritual. It allowed me to borrow a certain amount of magic to channel into whatever I wanted, up to a limit. Witches and wizards are simply conduits, you see. Once the magic we have borrowed at any time runs out, we cannot do any spells until another ritual is performed."
"Harry didn't have to perform any rituals, though," stated Rosalie, ever the suspicious one. Now, however, she was not being purposefully untrusting; she simply wanted clarification.
"That is because Harry is the only one who is actually gifted with magic since birth," said Lady Weber, pride and adoration evident in her tone. Clearly, she held Harry in high esteem, and cared for him deeply. Harry gave her a warm smile in return.
"The only one among the Council, you mean?" asked Emmett.
"No," answered Angela, obviously awed, "the only one in the whole world. Harry is not just a conduit, like we are. He has been chosen by Gaia, herself – Mother of all magic. He was found worthy and so he is the only being in existence who has magic inside him, running through his veins. Harry doesn't just borrow and channel magic – he is magical."
"Dude," Emmett said, his tone uncharacteristically hushed. "I knew you must have been something special, having got my bro here to actually think, instead of just brood, but this… Man!"
Harry grinned modestly and shrugged. "It's a humbling thing," he said, not self-centered in the least. "Trust was placed in me, and I'll do all that I can to prove myself worthy of it. It's not the easiest thing in the world to do, but it is the right thing."
Carlisle smiled and nodded, showing his admiration of one so young being so wise. Harry, though, never did do well with praise. Insults and antagonism he could handle just fine, but give him a sincere compliment and he got flustered. Sensing that his mate was getting increasingly uncomfortable in the spotlight, as he always did, Edward chose that moment to speak.
"But Jessica isn't a witch, as well?" he asked, looking more for confirmation. He was sure she did not use magic, but he had seen her do some spectacular things, the night she fought of the Vampire, and did not see how she could have accomplished that without a gift of her own.
"Nope," Jessica answered with a smug smile, clearly understanding Edward's thoughts (even if she could not really know them). She, too, was proud, he could tell. "Good old, one hundred percent human."
Emmett suddenly held out his arm to Jessica, his hand closed into a fist. The teen laughed as she realized what he wanted, and genially bumped her fist with his, rather larger one.
"That was freaking awesome!" he told her, impressed and with genuine admiration.
"Yeah, well," said Jessica with real modesty. "It wasn't all me. I did have amazing help."
She bumped shoulders with Angela as she said this last part, who smiled back at her. The camaraderie, the honest love of deep friendship, resonated strongly between the two of them. It was palpable.
"All right, so how did you manage that, taking out the newborn?" asked Edward, not quite willing to let the subject drop. He was far too intrigued.
"That," Jessica answered, flushed at the knowledge, Edward guessed, of being a part of something never before seen or done, "is due the brilliance of Harry and Hermione –"
"Mostly Hermione," Harry put in, sending a wide smile Hermione's way. And it was not mere false modesty, either, but the young being sincerely was ensuring that the credit was given where it was due.
Hermione, for her part, ducked her head with a pleased smile as Jessica continued.
"With Eric's genius and Harry's power, they were able to combine technology and magic. The circlet you saw me put on the Vamp, that's one example of this. What that did, basically, was nullify the two main supernatural powers of Vampires that would make it impossible for me to fight them, let alone win – their strength and their speed. And that is how I was able to do what I did."
"That is... truly facinating!" breathed Carlisle, his wonder apparent.
"So, what exactly is your role within the Council?" asked Jasper, needing to acquire as much knowledge as possible, while he could.
"Jessica," answered Harry, deciding to continue on with the introductions and explanations as he had been, "is an amateur Hunter."
"I hate that word," the aforementioned girl put in just then. "Amateur. I am quite good, I can assure you."
"Amateur in this instance," Harry responded patiently, a grin gracing his features, "as you well know, Jessica, means young and not unskilled. Even you will admit that you're hardly a pro."
Jessica huffed, conceding mock-grudgingly.
"Yeah, well," she said in a jokingly haughty manner, "I'm just clarifying, in case anyone misunderstood."
"I really do wish you'd stop treating hunting as a game, Jess," her mother said softly, a somewhat sorrowful look in her eyes. "It is a grave responsibility, a burden, and a sacrifice."
Sharon Stanley, Edward saw upon glancing in her direction when she spoke, was as much like her daughter as she was different. She was about the same height as Jessica, and had a similar build, but with slightly broader shoulders – a swimmer's build. Sharon, however, had dirty blonde curls, instead of being a brunette, and a much lighter complexion. Her eyes, though, were the same deep blue as her daughter's. Sharon, however, had much more experience behind her gaze, much more insight.
"You've said this before, mom," Jessica said with a small roll of her eyes, though not directly at her mother – she had respect enough to know not to do that. "And I don't doubt you. I get it, that you know what you're talking about. But I don't see it. From where I'm standing, we kick butt and do a great deal of good, saving a lot of people. Hunting is fantastic!"
Angela's mother, Diane, placed her hand upon Sharon's shoulder before she could get into a real argument with Jessica.
"She is still young, Sharon," she said gently, sounding far wiser than her relatively young age would denote. "Such a lesson can only be learned by experience, you know this. Difficult though it most certainly is, Jessica must learn it as everyone before her has – on her own."
Sharon nodded her agreement, but looked as though she truly wished it was a lesson she could spare her daughter.
Harry, understanding and sorrowful as well, chose not to comment on this personal matter. He simply went on with his presentation, so to speak.
"Jessica is a fighter, basically, as her father before her was, and still is to a certain extent. They have taken on the responsibility of physically protecting humanity, at least here in Forks thus far, from whatever wishes them harm – like rogue newborn Vampires. Jessica's mother, though not directly involved in hunting, is our weapons specialist, and a rather amazing one at that. There is very little she does not know in that regard.
"Eric is a technological genius. He is unparalleled as far as I have ever seen. It is due to him, in great part, that we were actually able to make Hermione's ideas reality."
The boy in question grinned somewhat embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. He was rather tall, standing at six feet and three inches, with a wiry physique. His black hair was sleek-looking, but with a longer cut than was usual, and an olive complexion. His eyes were very dark, and extremely intelligent, though he lacked a bit of self-confidence, except when it came to his field of expertise, Edward imagined.
"Just a geek, basically," Eric supplied with no arrogance evident.
"Eric's father and brother," continued Harry, moving on as quickly as he could (for they still had the recent attacks to discuss), "have both served in the navy. They know a great deal about combat and conflict situations, but they also know a great deal about ensuring that their roles within the Council of Forks, as well as the Supernatural world itself, remains secret. The alternative would be too great a risk for us all to take.
"Last, but most certainly not least, Mike is the research specialist among the Council, as is his mother. I am fairly sure, however, that no one person, in the history of the Forks Council, has ever known as much as Mike Newton. He knows more about the Supernatural world, and many of the supernatural species, than any human I've ever met."
Mike did not meet Harry's gaze as he spoke these words, but his cheeks did color a bit; it would be difficult to remain unaffected by any sincere compliment given by Harry.
"And then, of course, there's Bella," put in Eric enthusiastically. "Once she joins the Council, she'll be pro before you know it."
Bella blushed and looked away self-consciously.
"What could I possibly contribute?" she asked softly, uncertainly. "I'm… human. I'm nothing."
And just like that, instantly, the air seemed to chill even more. A brief, but loaded silence followed her words. It was so apparently significant that Bella looked up once again, sensing it, though she was clearly confused.
"Bella…" said Jessica, trying with great effort, but not quite managing regardless, for patience. Her voice was tight with suppressed anger and indignation, no doubt at the words Bella had just spoken. "I am human! Your dad is human! Most of the Council, since it began, has been human!And I don't care what sort of superiority you're giving to the supernatural, but we are not nothing!"
Bella looked rather stricken then, as if she were only just realizing exactly what she had implied. Jacob looked as though he was about to jump to Bella's defense, but Edward sincerely hoped that he would not. It was not that he felt different; the Vampire had always felt the need to defend Bella, shield her from anything and everything that could cause her hurt – even herself. Right then, however, Edward appreciated the fact that this was something that Bella needed to come to terms with. If there was one thing that the telepath had never agreed with the seventeen-year old girl on, it was that she always tended to value herself less because she was human. She never did understand that being a human did not equate being weak.
"No – it's not – that's not what I meant!" she said hurriedly, attempting to backtrack.
"No," said Jessica, still quite upset and not shy to let it be known. "It's what you said. Look, I don't know what kind of hang-ups you have, what sort of insecurities. But let me let you in on something: you choose what you are, what you want to be. So if that's how you see yourself, so be it. We'll have to work on that. But don't, for one second, think that it applies to the rest of us. We worked damn hard to get where we are. We deserve to have that recognized."
Bella swallowed hard, looking ashamed and contrite, but did not averting her gaze again. It seemed, somehow, that she instinctually knew that that would not count in her favor.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice soft but steady. "I really did not mean to insult you, or degrade who you are. I've just… never really seen much in myself. And you're right," she went on before she could be interrupted, "that is something I'll have to… we'll have to work on. I'll get there, though. I will. Eventually."
Throughout the exchange, Harry watched Bella with calculating eyes. Taking a breath now, he spoke to her evenly, firmly.
"Human beings are a blessed species," he told her, gaze unwavering, making sure that she kept all of her attention on him (not that anyone would have been able to look away, Edward thought to himself). "You are limitless in your own way. A supernatural being will always be governed by what he or she is. There are always rules, both implicit and explicit, that surround any given supernatural species. These are rules that must be followed; there is no choice in the matter. Humans, however, are different in that regard. You have no inhibitions. You can go where you want, do what you want, be who you want. The possibilities for you, within the laws of the Natural world, are endless."
He paused then, gauging how much of what he was saying was sinking in, how much was truly being heard as opposed to simply being disregarded. Satisfied thus far, Harry continued.
"Yes, the gifts granted to supernatural beings are great. What you don't seem to grasp, though, Bella, is that sacrifices of equal greatness must be made in order to acquire said gifts. Everything is about balance – everything. We gain a lot, to be sure, but so too must we lose a lot. You, Bella, are young enough to not truly realize or appreciate what I am telling you; you are young enough that you don't understand how severe the sacrifices made actually are, you don't comprehend the real value of them. Until you experience such loss, if ever you do, then only will you be aware of the truth of my words. For now, if you can, trust me."
Bella only stared at Harry for a long while after he had stopped speaking. Harry obliged her by holding her gaze calmly and confidently. Then, slowly, she nodded her head – either in belief in Harry's words or trust in him, or both. Edward smiled. He always did have a lot of faith in Bella; he was glad to have it proven to be worthwhile. It really was a pity, though, that he could not tell for certain what Bella was thinking. And speaking of….
"I have a question," said Edward suddenly with a pensive frown on his face, speaking aloud for all to hear, but directing his query to Harry. "Why is it that I have never been able to read any of this in the minds of Chief Swan, Angela, Jessica, Eric or Mike? I can read their minds, I know that much. But shouldn't I have, at some point, been able to gather this information previously?"
"You can read minds?" asked Mike with wide eyes. He looked far more shocked than Edward would have thought, almost to the point of fear. The Vampire thought he could understand that, however. They, as the Council of Forks, had quite large secrets that needed to stay secret. It would be detrimental to have anyone able to access them so easily.
Edward gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "That's what I believed."
Harry turned slowly to face the telepath, a sheepish, yet still charming, smile lighting his fine features.
"That would be my doing," he said in a guilty sounding voice. Edward was not fooled, though. His love would not genuinely feel guilt over doing what was necessary, especially if he had good reason and no one was hurt because of it.
"More than anyone," Harry continued, now more interested in giving his reasons than playing along, "I am aware of how really vulnerable the mind can be. Not only through knowing you, Edward, but also because of the Mind Magic that I have studied. Once I had started working closely with the Forks Council, I knew that I had to ensure their safety as much as I could, including the safety of their secrets. They have the same specialized mind shield that I have placed in Demetri. I knew that it would look too suspicious if all of their thoughts were blocked off, and thus I made it so that typical, insignificant thoughts could be heard. These are things one would expect to hear. However, as soon as a thought registered anything to do with the Council, or the supernatural, or anything of that nature, out of the ordinary, it would be silenced to anyone listening, or attempting to."
"Well," said Edward once the explanation was over, "at least we know that it works."
Harry gave him a blinding smile, reaching out to squeeze his hand. Edward smiled back easily.
"Right," said Harry not long after. "Getting back to the original issue, the reason for the added pressure, I had the Council meeting moved because of this attack on the Quileute pack and the presence of the mole. Things are moving more quickly now, and so must we."
Instantly, everybody was serious once more, paying careful attention to what was being said. The very air around them now seemed heavier, with the solemnity almost tangible.
"The Volturi are at the root of this attack," Harry went on, addressing them all as a Commander, a leader, without having anyone, as far as Edward could tell, feeling inadequate or small. "However, they had made use of the Lycans for the actual assault."
"Why now though?" asked Peter Yorkie, his eyes narrowed in thought, his tone gruff.
"Well for one," answered Hermione, having considered the very same question extensively since learning of the incident, "they are not only aware, now, of the existence of the Quileute wolf-pack and their alliance to the Cullen family, but also the timing seems almost perfect."
Jacob looked at Hermione questioningly, not quite understanding why she thought so.
"Dumbledore," she said, replying to the unasked question, "would have been aware that either the Alpha would not have gone on his Spirit Quest yet, or that he would still be on it at the time. Either way, with the Alpha and strongest link absent or incomplete, the outcome of the assault was more likely to be favorable."
"That does make sense," Jacob said, begrudging but still seeing the logic. "Didn't count on me getting back early, though, did he?"
"No, he did not," Harry responded. "And he also did not count on you having the extent of control that you do, or power."
Jacob's frown deepened at that.
"Why is that?" he asked with no conceit. In fact, it seemed to Edward that he was more wary of this newfound power he had acquired. He looked to Jasper when he heard approval in his thoughts, and saw him show that in a nod. Jacob did not seem to notice, however, distracted as he was by needing an answer. "How is it that I was able to send them away? They must be really strong if they were able to do this to my pack, but they didn't even try to attack me. I just howled a couple of times and they ran off. Some looked like they bowed first! What does that mean?"
Harry exchanged a quick, but meaningful look with Hermione before answering.
"We are not entirely certain," he began slowly, holding up his hand when he saw that Jacob would interrupt. "Though, we do have a theory. I'm not sure you would be very agreeable to it…."
"Doesn't matter," replied Jake gruffly, steeling himself for whatever he was about to hear. "Tell me anyway."
Another look, a nod from Hermione, and Harry explained as best he could.
"We believe you are the Alpha."
No one said anything for a moment, confused.
"But we all know that already," huffed Jacob, disappointed with the apparent lack of new information.
"No," said Hermione, teacher-mode shining through. "We believe you are the Alpha, the Alpha of Alphas."
Jake took an involuntary step back, the weight of her words seeming to physically hit him.
"That's not… Is that… There's no such thing!"
The Quileute Alpha stumbled through his words, not knowing if he should believe, but not quite aware of how to dispute it either. Bella stood, still a bit shaky, but steadier than she was, and walked over to him. She placed a hand upon his shoulder in comfort. This did not seem enough for Jacob, however, who put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him and allowing her support to calm him, at least a bit.
"There is," Harry countered solemnly. "The last one was a werewolf. I believe there never has been a shape-shifter supreme Alpha before, though…."
He looked to Hermione here for affirmation on this last statement, and she nodded her agreement. When Jake did not respond, Hermione took over the explanations.
"At the moment, it isn't confirmed that you are supreme Alpha," she said, shaking her sympathetically head when Jacob looked at her hopefully, "but it is likely. There are other criteria you have to meet in order to show, for sure, that you are as we believe. You haven't yet, and we shall let you know if you do, for nothing can be forced. Everything must come to you naturally, in the time and order that they should – no interference."
"Judging from the fact that the Lycans seemed to revere you," said Harry, continuing where Hermione left off, "is quite a strong indicator, Jacob. Lycans… Lycans are monsters in the truest sense. They know no worship, they know no loyalty. There is no human underneath the beast. It is what it is and can be nothing else. Lycans are malicious creatures, void of any emotion. The only thing it can bring itself to feel is anger really. I suppose you could mistake it for hate at times, but actually it's just aggression in its extreme form. Lycans only know the most basic of all instincts – survival. This means that they know how to feed and they know how to kill, but that is all they know. There is nothing else – they're hollow. That they would not only run from you, but see you as superior as well is… rather telling."
The weight of Harry's words seemed to sit heavily with every individual present. They understood, at once, the immense threat that such a creature – with no ties, no loyalty and no feelings – could be.
"If they know no loyalty," began Jasper slowly, "then why do they seem loyal to Jacob?"
"They aren't," answered Hermione simply.
"They simply will not cross Jacob," put in Harry. "That's about as far as their capacity to actually think goes. It forms part of the survival instinct – don't actively oppose that which can destroy you. But it most certainly is not loyalty. They aren't even loyal to their own kind! They are loners by nature because they cannot work as a unit; they tend to rip each other apart."
"Then how is it that the Volturi are making use of them?" asked Carlisle, seeing the effort and risks involved in attempting such a thing.
"Close monitoring and a lot of time and effort," said Hermione by way of answer.
"Dumbledore is a patient being," said Harry, but not as though complimenting him. "He is a chess player, and a brilliant one at that. He has time – he knows this and takes full advantage of it."
"And how exactly did the Italian coven come to control these beasts?" asked Jasper, easily shifting into his no-nonsense mode of conduct. "Dumbledore?"
"Yes. They are breeding them," answered Harry, to the point since he realized that this would be most appreciated.
"To what end?" asked Carlisle, appalled even though he had never actually come across a Lycan before.
"Well, for one," said Harry, keeping his tone even, "mindless beings tend to make the best soldiers when it comes to an all out, take-no-prisoners war. They are, generally, extremely powerful, but with no sense to plot against the leader, seeing as how they have no real thought processes apart from what I highlighted earlier."
"You told us that Lycans were the very first kind of werewolf in existence," said Jasper, a pensive look on his face as he began to pace. Edward could not help but smile at the familiarity of the action. The empath tended to do this every time he was assimilating knowledge that he felt was vital, and when he was agitated due to just how much he did not know. "But werewolves are not able to harm Vampires as Lycans are. Is it the venom, then, that allows Lycans to be able to cut through the skin of a Vampire?" he enquired, already attempting to find ways to defend against Lycans.
"Partly," responded Harry. "The strength of their claws and bones aid them as well. Their bones are strong enough to withstand the jarring shock of hitting a Vampire, and the sharpness and power of their claws allows for the strikes to follow through. The amount of force they are able to apply to their blows also helps. But, yes, I'd imagine it is the venom that causes the actual break of skin, where Vampires are concerned."
"You only managed to give us some of the physical differences at the time," Jasper said then. "Are there any other distinctions?"
"The biggest one is what I've just told you," said Harry, thinking carefully so that he did not leave anything important out. "The fact that they are hollow is not something they share with werewolves. Even during a full moon, and even though werewolves don't retain their human minds in their transformed states, they cannot be said to be empty. They still feel, they still think. Although you should know that Lycans are able to not only turn humans to further their species, but are also able to give birth to the same end."
"Another advantage to them," said Jasper, immediately understanding the implications.
"What exactly would happen to the human, once bitten?" asked Alice quietly, clearly distressed. Jasper placed his arm around her, soothing her silently.
"They change for the first time by the light of the full moon," replied Harry gravely. "They do change back into their human form, but only up until their third transformation. Once they transform for the third time… they never change back. Their human selves are lost forever; not a shred remains, not even in the mind."
The silence of the dead took over the clearing at that pronouncement. Any being, with a crumb of compassion, would feel the deep sorrow such a consequence afforded.
"Why have we never heard of such a creature?" asked Carlisle, attempting to compose himself. Edward knew, due to his gift as well as deep knowledge of the kind of person his Sire was, that such an empathetic man would feel the loss associated with Lycan transformation profoundly – even if he weren't directly involved or implicated in any way.
"Yeah," Emmett cut in then, also trying to maintain some semblance of calm. "They would have no control whatsoever, right? There would definitely be evidence to their existence, since they wouldn't exactly be covering their tracks."
Harry smiled humorlessly. "Indeed," he concurred with a nod, "if they had been around to cause such destruction."
"What do mean?" asked Rosalie sharply, eyes narrowed. "You just said –"
Harry stopped her, raising his hand so that he may clarify.
"Up until a month ago, maybe two," he began slowly, sounding as though this was going to be difficult to explain, but trying nonetheless, "Lycans were an extinct race. Their species continued in the form of werewolves, but their particular kind had died out a long time ago – long before any of our births."
"Up until a month ago?" asked Jasper incredulously. "How does one revive an extinct race? It's not possible!"
"I'm afraid it is," Harry disagreed, meeting his gaze. "If one were to find just the right genetics, and couple that with just the right magic, in just the right way, with a powerful enough Necromancer…. I'm afraid that it is very possible – not only possible, but that it has been done."
The hush that fell over them all at that moment could only have been expected. Edward himself was in complete shock. How many times could they have their world turned over before they lost track, absolutely, over which way was up, and which was down?
"I…" began Carlisle, his eyes wide and a slight tremble making its way through his body. Esme moved over to him and he held her close, seeking comfort and also wanting to assure himself that she was still there, with him. "What does one say to that?"
"That's an awful lot of trouble to go through simply to build an army," said Jasper, pulling himself together as much as he was able. He still did not know how to believe what he had just been told, but was wary to discount it – especially if it could save their lives, knowing such things. "Why not proposition beings already in existence? Why resurrect a race?"
"You do know just the right question to ask, don't you?" Hermione said to Jasper, not able to keep from being impressed.
"I have a knack for it, I suppose," Jasper responded with a tilt of his head.
"And a good thing it is," said Harry, unable to distract his mind, it seemed, from what he was about to tell them. "The reason behind the resurrection has to do with, what we believe is, Dumbledore's true endgame. There is a plane of existence, another dimension – for want of a better term – that was sealed eons ago. This is where most supernatural species once lived, before coming to this world. It was a dimension where nothing natural existed – no natural animals or creatures, no human beings – only the supernatural. It was a dimension known simply as The Core."
Edward gasped in surprise and Harry turned to gaze at him with a sad smile. The Vampire had heard of this dimension before, in the time he had lived with his Chosen in his world. It described to him, explained to him. His mind whirled, attempting to put all the pieces together and coming up short. He feared what Harry was about to say next, though.
Harry nodded sorrowfully. "He wishes to reopen The Core," he said plainly.
Edward let out the breath, which he did not know he had been holding, in a sudden gust – as though someone had punched him in the gut. No one else, understandably, appreciated exactly what such a thing meant, but gathered from Harry's tone and Edward's reaction that it was a bad thing.
"There is a reason," said Hermione urgently, taking over after realizing this, "that The Core was closed. That dimension had been overrun by darkness. The balance had tipped to far to salvage anything. It had to be sealed in order to save most of our species, as well as those of the Natural world. If it is ever reopened, I… I fear that we may not stand a chance. I fear that any fight we put then would be futile."
Her voice cracked as she finished speaking, her emotions overwhelming her momentarily.
"How bad, exactly, are we looking at this being?" asked Carlisle, needing more than a generalization and 'what ifs' where his family were concerned.
Harry was silent for a while, simply gazing at Carlisle and then at all those around him, weighing how honest to be. Taking a deep breath, he came to his decision and spoke.
"It would be," he said gravely, looking them each in the eye to convey his seriousness, "like the Apocalypse."
A…A
Deep underground, there was a small chamber that looked to be carved directly in a mountain. Its walls were of rough rocks, no one having bothered to smooth them out, which resulted in them having many sharp, jagged edges. The sandy floor, at least, was level, though this hardly made it comfortable. This was a prison with but a single occupant. Old blood, his own, as well as his bodily excretions decorated the corners of the 'room'. He had long ago got used to the smell so that, now, he hardly registered the stench at all.
What little space he had to walk over, though, was steadily getting smaller and smaller. Tall as the cavern was, it was tiny in width. High above, a single lamp was the only source of light; this meant that the damp chamber was indeed quite dark. Only one end had no wall, but it was by no means open. Thick metal cell bars closed off this side of it, glowing with an eerie, unearthly light.
The young man imprisoned here stood at a respectable height of about six feet and an inch. He had dark, curly brown hair, cropped short, and lovely tan skin. Or, at least, it had once been lovely. At present, it was marred by deep, angry scratches – as if he had tried to scrape his own skin off, claw his way out of his own body, in an attempt to escape, to end it all. The hazel eyes, at one time, probably, so vibrant, were empty now, void of life, and of all will to live.
This teenager's time seemed to be split between good days and bad days. There were times when he recognized nothing; times when he didn't know who he was, not even his name, or what he looked like. He had days when he remembered nothing of his life up to that moment; days when he did nothing but stare off into space, thinking nothing, feeling nothing, being nothing. Those were his good days.
Today, unfortunately, was a bad day.
Today he remembered. Today he knew that his name was Tyler Crowley. He knew that he was the only son of Beth and John Crowley; he knew that he had once attended Fork's High School and that he had had quite a few friends, great friends; he knew that he had been well-known and well-liked; he knew that he had been thinking of joining the basketball team, that he would have been good at it.
Today he knew that he was in a place far away from that life. He was in a place that he did not belong, a place of nightmares brought to life. He knew that he had been taken against his will; he knew that he had been tainted, horrifically changed from the inside.
Today he knew he was becoming a monster.
"Help!" he shouted desperately.
He knew that no one could hear him, knew that there was no one to help him, that he was alone. He couldn't give up, however. He had to… do something, anything – even if that meant screaming for nothing.
He had done this so many times before; he was sure that his throat was torn to shreds on the inside – which was probably the reason he sometimes coughed up blood. His voice, along with his throat, was raw and scratchy – he hardly recognized it anymore. He wondered if he would ever be able to speak properly ever again.
Then he thought of those who kept him imprisoned and the truth hit him squarely in the chest. He would never need to speak again. He would never be free again. If they ever let him out of this cell, it would mean only one thing: he would have become the monster they'd wanted to turn him into. Panic seeped into him then, thick and strong and cold. It overpowered him. He threw himself at the metal bars, caring nothing for the jolts of pain that went through him.
"HELP!" he screamed out again, the sheer anguish so clear in his voice. "Somebody please save me!"
The walls seemed to close in on him. The darkness, even though he could see through it, seemed to thicken. He felt it like physical pressure as he dropped to his knees, still holding onto the bars.
"HEEEELLLPP MMMMEEEEE!"
/A\
Author's Note: Hope everyone enjoyed. As always, let me know what you thought. Thank you! :)
