Chapter Nine:

Bella's POV:

"Nicely done." Edward murmurs, referring to how I left Hermione with Alice. I smile at him.

"Thanks." His icy fingers find the necklace around my neck and he tilts his head, slightly. I'm pretty sure my heart quickens, and my palms begin to sweat. Can he sense something off about it? I wonder, and I begin worrying my bottom lip with my teeth. "What's wrong?" I ask, my voice nervous. "Don't you like it?"

"It looks beautiful," he quickly assures me, sensing what he must perceive as my insecurity, "I've just… I don't see you wearing jewelry much."

"Hermione gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago." I shrug, unable to help my blush as I lie. "I wanted to, I don't know, show her that I appreciate it?" Edward presses his lips against my forehead.

Mistaking my blushing for embarrassment at my 'gesture', Edward smiles crookedly. "Hermione's lucky to have a sister like you." He says, and my blush deepens.

First class of the day is English, and I pull my battered copy of Wuthering Heights from my bag, placing it down on the desk in front of me. Edward copies my movements, sitting down right next to me. We're the first in the class, but as the minutes speed by, more and more people filter into the classroom, all of them talking about one thing and one thing only- Hermione.

I can only imagine how annoyed she is, thinking that she escaped the staring, whispering and pointing when she attended an ordinary school, only to find out that she was just as much a hot topic here, as she was at Hogwarts.

Jessica makes a bee-line over to me, followed closely by Eric and Mike, and I hold back my groan of annoyance. Edward reaches across, under the table, to gently squeeze my fingers with his deliciously icy ones, a pillar of support next to me.

"Oh my god, Bella! Why didn't you tell us you had a twin?" Jessica just about squeals, and I have to physically restrain myself from cringing at the sound.

"It's kind of a sensitive topic." I mumble, my cheeks immediately staining pink. Damn it, even with all the practice I've been getting lately, I still suck at lying- nothing like Hermione! She used to be as bad as me, but all that time with Harry and Ron rubbed off on her, and now I practically believe her, when she talks about things like the 'Academy', and I know she's lying!

"Are you two identical?" Mike interrupts, his blue eyes shining at the thought of a single-Swan girl. "'Cause you look kinda different."

"We're dizygotic twins." I tell him. He kind of looks at me, puzzled, and I sigh. "No, Mike, we're not identical." I manage to refrain from adding obviously to the end of my sentence.

"So what's the story?" Demands Jessica, "'cause I've heard she's, like, British! I mean, how did that happen?"

"She's lived in London for almost eight years." I tell Jessica, somewhat reluctantly, not going into any further details, hoping to subtly convey the message I don't really want to talk about Hermione anymore.

My subtly, unfortunately, is lost, as Mike immediately asks, "so, does she have a boyfriend?" I freeze, not sure what to answer. Technically, she's got a soul-mate, but she doesn't realize that yet. Also, she's gay, but I'm not sure if she wants me singing that from the rooftops.

I decide on acting hostile, to try and distract them from the question. "Damn it, guys, can you please stop pestering me? Want answers? Go find Hermione!" I snap, and they all kind of gape at the normally mild-mannered me, surprised by my angry outburst. Beside me, I can feel through our connected hands Edward's body shaking in silent laughter.

Mr. Banner chooses then to walk in, saving me from an indignant Mike and Jessica, and gets the lesson started. Edward slides a note across to me, on my desk, and I squint for a few seconds, trying to decipher his calligraphy.

I thought they'd never leave you alone. I wonder how Hermione's going?

Smiling, I tear off a corner of my exercise book and scribble down a reply: she's used to the attention- she'll survive… just.

Despite the class focusing on one of my favorite books of all times, I can't help being distracted by thoughts of Hermione and Bellatrix, focusing on my sister's enemies, so I could avoid thinking about my own red-haired demon.

Bellatrix Lestrange was an insane, sadistic, murderous bitch. That much was clear from Hermione's letters. She was particularly fond of the cruciatus curse, which Hermione tells me causes an indescribable pain, worse then that a vampire suffers through the three days of turning, worse then Jane of the Volturi's Gift. Bellatrix tortured people into insanity, gleefully giddy at the thought of the suffering of another. She murdered gladly, her victim's including countless muggles killed for sport, and Harry's godfather, Sirius.

The very idea of Hermione at Bellatrix's mercy… well, I was shocked Hermione was alive. Bellatrix's insanity was perhaps only measured up to by her evil and her skill. Because the Dark Witch was skilled, one of the best of the time, according to Hermione, and to the history books she sent me to read, in hopes that I'd understand why she had to cut contact with me, just a few days after my seventeenth birthday.

Right before Edward and the rest of the Cullens left me.

Right before I needed her the most.

But she didn't know that, couldn't have known that, and by the time they'd gone, she too, was long gone. I hadn't just lost the Cullens, I'd lost my sister. My best friend and closest confident. And unlike the Cullens, who I knew were alive, I had no idea if Hermione was dead, or not. If she was free, in hiding, captured or… buried.

How close had I come to losing my sister? I wondered, the scars on Hermione's arm flashing in my memory. I closed my eyes for a few seconds to hide the tears that threatened to fall. It was during times like this I was relieved that Edward couldn't read my mind.

The edge of a scrap of paper nudges against the tips of my fingers, and I open my eyes to read the note Edward pushed onto my desk.

Are you okay?

Are you okay? Three simple words, one simple question, to which I should easily be able to reply with one simple answer. Yes, of course I'm fine. But I wasn't. I wasn't, and even if I couldn't tell Edward the entire truth, he was the love of my life and I didn't want to lie to him. I never wanted to lie to him.

No.

I write back, and his next note is written at an inhumanely fast speed and placed before me before I can even blink.

What's wrong?

This is easier to answer, and still contains more then just a seed of truth. My hand shakes slightly as I write- I don't know how Hermione could stand constantly being in mortal danger, how she survived a year on the run. I had one crazy vampire after me, and I was ready to have a panic attack every time I saw someone with red hair.

Victoria.

Nothing more needs to be said, Edward just reaches out and grasps my hand, gently, his golden eyes burning into mine, promising me that I will be safe.

Lunch can't come quick enough, and I hurry, alongside Edward, to the cafeteria to meet Hermione. She's already sitting with Alice at the Cullen's usual table, picking at her pasta salad morosely. In my impatience to talk to her, I forgo the cafeteria line, instead making a beeline straight for Hermione, to sit on the spare seat next to her.

She mock-glares at me, as I pick up one of the plastic forks in the middle of the table and begin tucking into her pasta salad. "What?" I ask, innocently, "I'm hungry!"

"Brat." She mutters, before turning back to Alice. "As I was saying, before we were so rudely interrupted," she teases me, "That sounds like great fun."

"What does?" I ask, genuinely curious, and kind of excited- has Alice asked Hermione out on a date?

"Alice is taking me shopping in Port Angeles." Hermione explains, her face lighting up. I face-palm.

"Dear god," I mutter, pulling a horrified look onto my face, "she'll be unstoppable now!"

"Are you a shopper, Hermione?" Edward asks, as he slides into place across from me. Hermione rolls her eyes and I bite back a grin. Hermione's always loved shopping, mostly for things like books, not clothes, but she does like the occasional clothes shopping.

"A girl's allowed to want to wear nice things." She lectures us, and Alice nods.

"Absolutely," she agrees, "you should really take a few lessons out of your sister's book, Bella, you could learn a lot about fashion!" I take another mouthful of Hermione's pasta salad.

"I'm not gonna lie, Alice- I'm psyched that you've found someone else to torture with playing 'Bella Barbie'." I tell her, and she shoots me a sad-pout that melts my heart.

"You're saying you didn't like playing with me?" Alice asks, in a breathtakingly sad voice. I back track quickly, alarmed at her expression.

"Oh no, no, no!" I exclaim, "I love to, I just… I just…"

"She's teasing you Bella." Hermione grins, and Alice lets out a peal of laughter. I glare at them both.

"I should have never introduced you both." I grumble, good-naturedly.

"But then I'd make you go shopping with me this Friday." Alice says, sweetly, and I admit defeat.

"Fine, I'd rather take the mocking then the shopping." I tell them.

"Look! You're a poet and you don't know it." Hermione teases me, and I'm glad to see she's cheered up somewhat- time to ask the Big Question.

"So, 'Mi, how's your day going?"