Dawn of the Phoenix: Cedric goes to Forks

Story and Characters owned by

Stephenie Meyer and JK Rowling

Story Adaptation by Erica K. Bailey

Chapter 25: A Day Alone

I thought things would be awkward the next morning, that either Tanya would avoid me or act strangely, well more strangely, around me – but she was normal. She greeted me warmly as she had the previous mornings after I'd eaten breakfast.

"We're planning to go hunting today." She said after our morning greetings. "We'll be gone several hours. When we're up here, we allow ourselves to be completely free. Unless we bring humans, there is only animal life. So I would recommend you stay in the house today. We'll go a little further away then usual to be safe, but we don't want one of us catching your scent." She smiled warmly.

"Sure – thank you for the heads up. I suppose I'll just hang out here with Rosalie."

"Well, I was going to invite her to come along. I'm sure she needs to hunt as much as the rest of us… unless you'd rather have the company?"

"Oh, no, I hadn't even thought of her needing to hunt. Of course, if she needs to go, she should." I replied, realizing I would, for once, be all alone in the house. I wondered what I'd do all day. I glanced back up into Tanya's amused face.

"We have a games room downstairs in the basement."

That was when her scent hit me. I wasn't sure why – perhaps she was slightly closer to me, or maybe it was the turn of her body as she went to lead me down the stairs, but I was suddenly remembering how she'd look last night, how it felt to kiss her, to have my hands on her body, and her hands on mine. I flushed at the memory. This was not helpful. I quickly tried to contain myself as I followed her down the stairs.

Fortunately their games room gave me several other objects for me to gaze at and to think about. The downstairs basement was one room the same size as the upper floors, filled with various tables, televisions, and electronics – some of which I recognized from the Cullens' house or watching it on TV with Emmett, but others were completely foreign to me.

"Wow." I replied, turning to look at her again to provide my appreciation. Unfortunately, I misjudged her position, as she stood close, one step higher. So instead of her face, I was eye level with at the bottom of the v neckline of her sweater and had to tear my eyes away from the sight to look up to face. I swallowed as I was once again battling my memory of our previous night's exchange.

She smiled knowingly, "Of course, if you are looking for other distractions, I could return early." She raised an eyebrow in suggestion.

"Um, no, that's okay. I'm sure this will do." I said shakily as I looked away at the safer objects around the room.

"Sure. We'll see you later, then." She replied and I heard her retreat slowly, a lot more slowly then she needed to, back up the stairs. I supposed I was right – things were awkward, but only because I couldn't face her without my mind going down a path I didn't want it to go.

I tried to put it out of my mind by playing one of the games I'd seen on TV. I think it was called pool or billiards. I remembered Emmett going on one night about the differences between the two, but to me it was all hitting balls with a stick. The balls were all on the table already and the sticks in a cabinet along the wall. I tried to remember how the game began. I recalled the balls in a triangle formation, then one person would hit the white ball into the triangle and "break" it. Hmmm.

I spent about 5 minutes trying to get the balls into the correct formation before I noticed a triangle form handing at one end of the table. Thank goodness no one was here to witness my ignorance. I got the game set up and then tried remember how they used the stick to hit the white ball. I didn't have a perfect memory like the vampires, but I could recall them balancing the stick in the fingers of their one hand, while pushing the stick with the other… I tried to get myself into the right formation. Then I pushed.

"ripppp" I dropped the stick and stared at the small oval hole in the surface of the table. What had I done? The first game I tried and I wrecked their table. What more damage would I do if I tried something I knew nothing about?

I looked around and spied their TV at one end of the room with several arm chairs facing it in a semi-circle. Maybe that would be safer. I turned it on, but nothing happened. The screen seemed to light up, but there was no picture. Maybe I needed to use that remote thing. I found the remote and tried changing the channel. Arge! The screen went white and a loud staticy noise filled the room. I quickly hit the power button on the TV. Sigh. I guess I wouldn't be watching TV either. Hopefully I didn't break it as well.

I carefully made my way out of the room, fearful I might break something else along the way. Just being near electronic equipment, if it was sensitive, could be dangerous if I suddenly used some magic. I retreated back up to the main floor.

The house was very quiet. I assumed Rosalie must have gone with them. It was too early for lunch. I wandered around the main floor. There were a couple rooms I'd never seen before, like a library that made the Cullen's look small in comparison. I was amazed as I looked through the volumes to see almost all first additions of classical muggle literature I'd learned about in Muggle Studies. Dr. Cullen had several as well, but much of his library had reference material and medical journals. Then I came across an entire section that was encased in glass. I didn't dare go in, but I was terribly curious. Walking around the glass, peering in I saw several large volumes encrusted with jewels and hand embossed. I guessed each page was likely a piece of art – hand written text with embellished letters at the beginning of chapters. I'd read up on how early wizards had recorded their magical discoveries on skins stretched thin as paper and dried. They would spend years copying one text and each was so valuable there might be one or two copies owned by extremely wealthy wizard families who practiced their magic in secret for fear of discovery. If it was the same in the muggle world, one of those books would be worth several vaults of gold. Tanya's family had rows of them. I was shocked.

Along another row were rolls of parchment. They must have been ancient. I was incredibly curious to find out what was on them and decided to ask Kate when they returned.

I returned to the shelves of printed books and found one that appeared to be more recent. It might be good to read up on Muggle literature. It would provide something to do and help me gain a better understanding of them. I flipped open the cover and saw that this particular book was printed in London, England. The author was Charles Dickens.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… What an incredible opening. I delved into the story. I was whisked away to my homeland. Though it was a muggle story set well before my lifetime, it still felt like home. I remembered what Dumbledore had said and made a mental note to look for more literature from my home land. It could be my mini-homecoming as I read.

I didn't stop until my stomach grumbled. I was surprised to see it was already one in the afternoon by my pocket watch. Time had flown by. I found my way to the kitchen and fixed myself some lunch.

As I ate I thought about home. I missed Mum and Dad. Despite our recent differences, they had given me everything. I decided as soon as lunch was over I would write them in my notebook. Then I thought about Hermione, my dream last night and the way I felt when I kissed Tanya. The lunch in my stomach almost reversed course as waves of guilt washed over me. What was I doing kissing someone else, even if it was a mistake, when I cared for Hermione? I decided I needed to write her too. It had been rude of me to take off like I had at the reception. I hadn't even said good bye. More guilt attacked my tender stomach. I threw out the rest of my lunch and made my way to the living room to try to find some peace.

In the end, I wrote Hermione first. I couldn't get her off my mind. Maybe, if I write and explain how I feel, it will make me feel better.

Dear Hermione,

I am sorry…

What am I sorry for? For flying away and not returning until they had left – definitely… but in all honesty, what I was most sorry for not kissing her when we'd been on the dance floor. The more I thought about it, I realized that was my mistake. It had given her reason to pause, to think – and she was definitely a thinker. If I'd just acted, maybe things would have turned out differently.

But I couldn't write that. So what do I write? I drummed my fingers on the arm of the leather chair I was sitting in as I thought. I suppose I could put down the obvious.

I am sorry for how I left things at the wedding. I should have at least said good bye. As hard as that would have been, I should have done that. It would have been the polite thing to do.

I frowned as I read the last line: "the polite thing to do"? What was that? I scratched it out, realizing I was going to have to recopy this before I sent it anyway. I couldn't think of anything to replace that particular sentence so I moved on.

I miss you.

Should I say that? Friends missed each other. If that was all we were it was fair to say that, right? But what I wanted to say was more then that. I took a deep breath and just let the rest out.

I wish I could be with you. I wish I could return to Hogwarts and be near you. I'd ask you out properly and take you to Hogsmede. I'd sit with you in the library and we could study together like last year. I'd treat you like the lady you are, and respect you for the person you are. You are truly amazing, Hermione and I think I might love you, or be able to love you if time and circumstances allowed. I wish we could be together somehow, but I want the best for you and I don't want you to be tied to someone who won't be around and may or may not even survive given the return of Voldemort and everything that is going on in the wizarding world….

I stopped and read it over. I couldn't send that. It was too much. But what could I say if I couldn't share what was on my heart? I sighed and took out a fresh piece of paper and wrote simply:

Dear Hermione,

I am sorry for how I left things at the wedding. I should have at least said good bye. As hard as that would have been, I should have done that.

I miss you. You are really special.

Your good friend,

Cedric

It was a far cry from what I really wanted to say, but maybe it was enough to let her know we were still friends so she wouldn't feel bad and not too much so she could return to Hogwarts free of any ties.

I folded it up and put it in one of the envelopes. I got gotten used to using Muggle stationary. It really was more convenient with the self adhesive envelopes. It saved melting wax. I wondered if she was back at Headquarters or home. Either way, the owl would find her. He'd made his way to Alaska on his own a few days after our arrival. Dr. Cullen had agreed to send a message to me to get the owl up without too much trouble at the boarder. He was sure there would be considerable paperwork to bring a caged owl across into Canada and then back into the US, though with Rosalie driving, it didn't seem they'd looked too closely.

I ran up to my room, gave the owl my message and opened the door to the balcony to let it go. Then I returned to the living room and wrote to my parents. I was purposely vague, but I knew Mum at least would appreciate the note and it would go a long way to smoothing things over with them. Then I continued reading my book until dinner.

The vampires weren't back by early evening, so I took my book up to my room. Not wanting a repeat of last night, I turned the lock inside my room and settled myself in bed to read. I must have fallen asleep for when a knock came at the door I was lying on my back with the book split open and resting on my face. I quickly marked my spot and placed it on the bedside next to me, hoping the natural oils from my face wouldn't damage the pages. The knock came again.

"Who is it?" I asked tentatively, worried it would be Tanya.

"It's me, Rosalie." I heard muffled through the door. Breathing a sigh of relief I opened the door.

"How was the hunt?"

She looked at me in surprise, "Good, why do you ask?"

"It seemed the polite thing to do."

"Oh… Well, I just came to tell you I had a talk with Tanya."

"Really?" that was a surprise. I couldn't imagine either Tanya or Rosalie sitting down to have a rational discussion.

"I told her that you were only 17 and to leave you alone." She said casually, as if it had been nothing in the world, "so that should be that."

"Just like that?" I sensed there was more to it.

"Well, Kate might have helped a bit."

"And all you did was talk?"

"Essentially." She smiled and something flashed in her eyes. I was sure there had been definitely more. "Thing is, she is interested and so she'll likely not give up, but she won't try something like she did the other night."

"Oh." Why was I both disappointed and relieved all at the same time? "Well, thank you Rosalie."

"No problem. Good night."

"Good night."

The next morning, Tanya found me in the kitchen preparing breakfast. I stiffened as I felt her enter the room. Though she was silent, I would now know her scent anywhere.

"Cedric." She started as I stared down at the piece of toast I was buttering, "I've come to apologize."

I didn't trust myself to look up at her. "What for, exactly?" I asked, hearing the tension in my voice.

She took a deep breath, "Well, first of all, when I first met you, I was attracted to you because you remind me so much of Edward."

"Oh" I replied. It was a disappointing revelation. She didn't want me, she wanted Edward. So what was I, second helpings? Wait a minute – why did I care anyway? I should be relieved.

"But, the thing is, you're not Edward. You have a similar look and the same high regard for relationships between men and women – but you are a different person, Cedric."

"I realize that." My voice sounded tense, maybe a little angry. Of course I am a different person. What did she expect?

"And you are very young. Like I said, I think of you like Edward – someone who looks young, but is much more mature."

Talk about hexing someone when they've fallen off their broom. I felt my face redden as the embarrassment and anger flushed through my system. I didn't trust my voice. I was angry.

"You are a child. To take advantage of you as I did, is unforgivable."

"So, you think it's okay to take advantage of a man, if he is older or not so immature? You think that you need to apologize to me because I am simply a child? Is that what you think of me?" I was seething. How dare she?

There was an awkward silence that followed my outburst. I rarely spoke my mind like that. I rarely lost my temper. I took some deep breaths and tried to calm myself.

"Cedric." I heard her start, her voice was tentative, "I'm sorry. I'm not doing this right. I really do mean to apologize. I'm sorry if I've insulted you in the process. I was trying to explain. No, it's not right to take advantage, but I guess when it comes to men who've been around, I don't feel so bad. They know what they're getting into and I give them what they are looking for – an incredible experience with no ties."

I swallowed as my mind suddenly considered what she meant by an incredible experience. Admitably, this was something I was interested in exploring, though mostly I knew I wasn't interested in something with no ties. I knew lots of guys who would have taken advantage of the opportunity in my position. Why was I so stubborn?

"And I guess I didn't fully appreciate how inexperienced you are. Not that there is anything wrong with that. It is endearing really."

I could hear in her voice she was trying, but that didn't make me feel any less emasculated by this conversation. I finally looked up at her to see she truly was penitent. You'd think, after 1000 years, she would have figured out a better way to apologize. Or maybe it was so ingrained in her nature to be rude…

"Thank you for your apology." I said coolly and returned to my toast, scooping out more marmalade then I usually used, then spreading it meticulously to cover every part of the bread. I was stalling, hoping she would leave.

"Cedric." She said again, "please look at me."

I lifted my head again, trying very hard to practice that placid expression that Edward seemed to have perfected. I failed miserably.

"I'm so sorry. I've hurt your feelings." She looked suddenly unsure, "You see, as I've gotten to know you better, I've come to appreciate the differences between you and Edward. You are much brighter, not so gloomy – well not normally. You're optimistic and full of hope. You look at the world and see that you can make a difference. You want to make a difference. Edward is all about obligations and trying to make up for what he is. He needs someone to look after. You don't."

I felt a little better. At least she knew I was different.

"And I understand you have an interest with a girl back in London – that if you hadn't come on this trip, you would be with her now. I'm going to try to respect that." She said, though not entirely convincingly, "I can't say it will be easy. I'm very used to being myself."

I nodded.

"But I will say this, Cedric. You are a man worthy of love. And I hope that for you. And if things don't work out with Hermione, maybe you won't be so opposed to exploring the possibility of an older woman?"

My eyes flew open in shock. Was she saying she wanted to try having a relationship – not just use me for her seductive purposes, but to actually be in a relationship? It must be a trick.

She laughed lightly, "Yes, I am capable of being in a relationship – or at least I hope so. I've lived 1000 years, Cedric and never allowed myself to fully and freely love. I hope you can appreciate how difficult it is for me to consider it now. Love opens you up to hurt. It is much easier to just get your needs met with no attachments. At least then you know where you stand."

I was still standing; wide-eyed in shock, when my mind registered she'd left the room. I shook my head. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Was she for real? Did it really matter if she was? I cared for Hermione. It didn't really matter what Tanya wanted or didn't want. I wanted Hermione.