A/N: Consider this a peace offering. Two updates in one go. This is nice, right?

34

"So what will you wear for the awarding ceremony in France, Isabella?" asked Alice for the sixty-seventh time this evening. Yes, I had kept a mental tally, simply to just amuse myself.

After Esme had stumbled over my wards, the unearthly sound of Nessa singing in the shower assaulted everyone's ears, making Edward and I jump apart from each other. Safe to say, Esme had walked into a very amusing scene with Edward sprawled across the rug, while I was nursing the bump forming when I had hit the coffee table. I doubt she would ever let us forget that moment.

At times like that, I was reminded that though Esme was like the mother to all the Cullen children (not that they were children, which they certainly weren't, considering what I was doing to Edward and what he was doing to me in return), she was still a woman in her twenties. She could tease and take a joke like a juvenile.

Of course, upon hearing Esme's laughter, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie and Emmett came bounding inside the living room. By that time, I was able to make myself look presentable and had accio'd Edward's shirt from across the room. I had to endure the teasing from Emmett as I ate my dinner, by which after I had done so, I got assaulted by a hyperactive pixie impersonator. If Alice only had pointed ears and had a bright blue skin color, then she could pass as a Cornish pixie.

"I don't know," I finally chose to answer her. I deposited my empty plate, glass and spoon on the sink and magicked them clean, then levitating them to their rightful places. "I suppose I have decent enough robes in my dresser in the cottage, but my best ones are back home in Italy, in the house I share with my aunt. Or, once I reach France, I can go shopping for some new robes… I haven't really thought about it."

I could ring up one of my many French cousins and see if they want a spontaneous shopping trip with me.

"Wait – what are 'robes', and what do they look like?" Alice asked, confused. "Are they what your kind wears?"

I masked my scowl successfully enough, but I replied snidely, "My kind, Alice? What would you say if I refer to you and your family as 'your kind'? You're all just normal people, are you not? Albeit immortal, but still."

"Oh," her smile dropped. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything," she apologized. "It's sort of… hard to get used to, knowing that the existence of magic and wizards and witches are real, and that you, Isabella, are one. It makes me wonder, really, if I might've received an acceptance letter from a magical school when I was eleven."

I felt my annoyance leave me, as if a wave of sympathy and calmness washed through me. "Thanks, Jasper," I muttered knowingly. Addressing the girl in front of me, I asked, "What do you mean by that, Alice?"

Alice shrugged and seated herself on the kitchen island, her legs swinging to and fro. I idly admired her black peep-toe heels. "I don't know, really," she answered. "I just have a feeling – not really a vision, since it has nothing to do with the future – but still, I have a feeling."

"A feeling about what?" I grabbed a chair and positioned it in front of Alice.

"I can't really pinpoint it, but I think – no, I'm certain that it has something to do with my past."

"Your past," I repeated. "What do you mean by that? Just tell me anything. It doesn't have to make sense to you. I might understand it."

Alice frowned but nodded her head. "Okay, so since you're the Watcher, you most likely know my history, right?"

"Yes," I bobbed my head and recited, recalling the exact page from my mother's journal: "You were born in the year 1901, same as Edward, as Mary Alice Brandon in a small hospital Biloxi, Mississippi, and were changed in the year 1920. You spent most of your life in an asylum, after your parents discovered that you had premonitions. You were changed by an unknown vampire to protect you from another vampire, a tracker named James, and had a little sister named Cynthia Brandon. Her daughter, your niece, is still alive yet unmarried and currently resides in a nursing facility for seniors in Biloxi. Every now and again, she visits her mother's tombstone, which is located next to yours, having refused to be buried in the Brandon's family plot."

As I recited her history, I watched as Alice's face transformed into a mask of shock. Halfway through my recital, Jasper, followed by the rest of the family, entered the kitchen. All were equally surprised as Alice, even more so in Jasper's case.

"How did you know all of that?" Alice asked hoarsely.

"Like you mentioned before," I said slowly, "as Watcher, I know all of your histories. Why are you so shocked?" I directed the question to Jasper, who was comforting his wife as she clung onto him in what I could only suspect was comfort.

"Alice remembers nothing from her past," he said. "She only knew her name and that while she was human, all she saw was darkness. I suppose the latter can be explained if she stayed in the asylum. The asylums at those times were… inhumane." A deep frown marred his handsome features. "Are you quite sure that it was her parents who sent her there?"

"Quite sure," I nodded my head. "After Alice predicted the death of her grandmother, Mr. and Mrs. Brandon sent her to an asylum and declared her dead… the date on your tombstone, Alice, was the same date you were admitted," I said softly. In a louder, stronger voice, I declared, "The information in my mother's journals is never wrong. She took her job, and the research that came along with it, very seriously. That, and the Watchers before her already had notes about you guys, which only adds more to the credibility of her research."

"Really?" interjected Emmett, stepping forward with a wide, silly grin on his face. "Do you know what happened to me? All I know was that I was mauled by a bear when Rosalie found me in the forests of Gatlinburg, Tennessee in the year 1935. Right, babe?" He nudged his wife, who rolled her eyes and did not bother to acknowledge her husband's words.

"You were born as Emmett McCarthy to middle class parents," I recited, "in the late summer of 1915 as the youngest and the most… boisterous of the McCarthy clan. The reason you were out on that night you were mauled was because one of your brothers, who was due to get married soon, was trapped in a bear catcher and froze to death. You figured that by killing a bear, you would be avenging his death. Your death, from what I can tell of my mother's notes, not only devastated your family, but the girl you were courting as well. She was your childhood sweetheart."

Emmett blinked. "Oh."

I left Emmett to ponder the news by himself, while Rosalie held him and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. They left after a couple of minutes, and I heard the noticeable sound of their bedroom door closing.

"So you know all of our histories?" Esme asked suddenly, catching me by surprise. I was thinking to myself how Rosalie was comforting Emmett – those two remind me of Bree and her insatiable need to get laid. However, I might be too hard on the couple, seeing as the two were clearly in love.

I sighed inwardly; perhaps someday Bree would find the right person for her.

Returning from my thoughts, I smiled sadly at the mother-figure of the family and nodded, saying, "You were born as Esme Anne Platt in the year 1895 in Columbus, Ohio. Before you were changed, at the age of sixteen, you met Carlisle who treated your broken leg. A certain Mr. Evenson was an abusive husband of yours, and once you found out you were carrying his child, you ran away and gave birth to the beautiful baby boy. You were so heartbroken when he had died several days later, and so you threw yourself off of a cliff. And then you met Carlisle again at the morgue where your body was brought. He changed you, Esme, and fell in love the moment you laid eyes on him – at least, that was what my mother had suspected. Me too, actually."

Carlisle held his wife close to him, smiling proudly. "I was able to hear her heartbeat, faint as it was, and decided to change her. For a supposedly dead person," he chuckled, "you were quite pleasing to the eye, Esme."

"And that's coming from a vampire," quipped Edward, speaking for the first time. "Vampires, as everyone knows, have a high standard when it comes to beauty."

Though he addressed the statement to Esme and Carlisle, Edward was looking at me as he spoke. Thankfully, I didn't blush in embarrassment at his roundabout compliment, but I did smile brightly and winked roguishly at him. I even blew him quick kiss, which he made a show of pocketing. Everyone in the room laughed at his antics, even himself.

The laughter lulled into silence, and Esme and Carlisle excused themselves, claiming to have work to do, which only left Jasper, Alice, Edward and I in the kitchen. I shared a look with Edward, unsure of what to do with the still distraught Alice. He motioned for me to go over to her and comfort her myself. Resigned, I did as he told me to do. Jasper was as dear, smiling gratefully as he passed Alice to me and leaving the room with Edward.

"Talk to her," was what Jasper said before adjourning to the living room.

I rubbed soothing circles on Alice's back, trying not to wince as her spiky hair pierced my chin and neck. "I'm sorry that you had to find out about your family through me," I said softly. "I wasn't very sympathetic when I spoke of it. I would've tried to have more tact about it, you know, if I knew that you didn't know any of it. I'm sorry about that."

"No." Alice extricated herself and fixed her rumpled clothing. "You don't have to apologize; you did nothing wrong. I'm not like this because I found out my history through you. I'm like this because…" She wrapped her extremely thin arms around me. "Oh, Abby, thank you… you don't know how much this means to me."

"It means to you a lot, I suppose," I said awkwardly as she stepped back. "I mean, if I were in your shoes, I would be overemotional as well. I might even break some glass plates, depending on what I found out."

Alice laughed and rubbed her eyes to dry the nonexistent tears. "I tried looking for my family," she said quietly, looking out the window over the sink. "But, there was only so much I can do with only knowing my first name – it's not even my first name… Mary Alice, really? I didn't even know I was in that asylum… When I was changed – when I was a vampire already, I began having these visions. I guess these were the stronger versions of those premonitions I had, right?"

I voiced my agreement, thinking back to the little knowledge I had of Divination. "From my understanding, premonitions are just hunches, forewarnings about the future. They only leave you with a couple of theories of what is to happen. With visions, you see all the possible outcomes."

Alice's gaze snapped to face me, her eyes flashing with curiosity and slight apprehension. "Isabella, do you know why I had premonitions when I was human? They must've been pretty serious, not to mention accurate, since my parents deemed it appropriate to place me in an asylum." She paused and looked out the window again. "My grandmother's death…" she murmured.

"I'm not quite sure how to answer your question, Alice," I said truthfully. I leaned on the island and pursed my lips, deep in thought. "I know very little of the Divination Arts, though I do know that only Seers and Oracles are able to glimpse at, sense, or predict the future. And even then they only gather small tidbits and spew them out in prophecy form. Your abilities, Alice, are more accurate and less confusing, since prophecies can have many interpretations. Alice, you see the future."

"I had premonitions when I was human," said Alice as she paced up and down. "Do you remember Carlisle's theory about what happens to the abilities of humans when they are changed? They are improved." Alice stopped her pacing and faced me fully. "Do you see where I'm going with this, Isabella?"

"Are you saying your premonitions… evolved into visions when you became a vampire?"

"Precisely; it's the only plausible answer I can think of. And Carlisle agrees with me." She motioned with her eyes where Carlisle's study was located on the second floor.

"It's plausible," I countered, "but is it possible? For a human to be born with the ability to sense the future, he or she must have an ancestor gifted with the Sight – the gift skips a generation, jumping from grandmother to grandchild – and even so, to have the Sight, he or she has to be gifted with magic.

"Divination is one of the branches of magic, and although not really reliable, the very few prophecies where real Seers were involved are proven to have come true. The most recent evidence of this was with Sybill Trelawney, in which she foretold the fall of the darkest wizard of recent time, a.k.a Voldemort. She used to be the Divination professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Hogwarts?" squeaked Alice in a low murmur that I barely heard. "You mean the same school Harry Potter went?" Alice visibly shook her head and focused back at the moment at hand, returning to her pacing. "So are you saying that for me to be able to have premonitions, it meant I must've had magic in me?"

"I –" I paused, considering the next few words I was about to say. My eyes bore into Alice's butterscotch eyes, light and bright from the hunt she partook in the day before. "Yes, I'm saying that you, Alice Cullen, have to be magical to be able to have premonitions when you were human."

Alice was astounded, to say the least. She froze, her current position being quite uncomfortable seeing as one foot was raised to take another step in her pacing.

"Alice?" I waved a hand in front of her face. "Alice, are you in there?" When she didn't respond, I called for Edward. "Is it possible for a vampire to go into shock?" I asked him.

"Well," Edward scratched his cheek in thought. "Esme nearly had a heart attack when my siblings arrived out of the blue that time with the portkey, and seeing as a vampire's heart doesn't technically beat… Yes, I think it's possible for vampires to go into shock. What did you tell her?" he asked me.

"Weren't you listening in with your super hearing? I know Carlisle was."

"Not only is he the head of this coven, he's our father for all intents and purposes. He has a right to listen in, as with Esme. Jasper, too, since he's Alice's husband. The rest of us, however, don't have the right, so we try to give Alice some privacy by concentrating on something else, just ask Rosalie and Emmett." He grinned lightheartedly.

"That's very considerate of you," I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, Alice and I were talking about the possibility of her…" I paid close attention to how Edward might react to this piece of news. "Being magical – Alice might be a witch."

Edward's eyebrows knitted together. "How would you get to that conclusion? Was it because of her ability to see the future?"

I raised an eyebrow in question, smirking. "I thought you weren't eavesdropping."

"I'm a mind reader."

"I thought you couldn't read my mind."

"I can Carlisle's."

"Ooh," I hissed in some air. "Nice comeback."

"I think the word you are looking for is 'touché'."

He flashed me that wonderful crooked grin of his, making my heart skip beats. Not thinking of my actions, I took a step forward closer to him and entangled my fingers into the unruly mop he calls hair. I pressed my body as close as I dared and whispered, "Mmm, I don't think so."

"Oh?"

"What if I'm looking for: kiss me..."

"As your boyfriend, I'd be happy to oblige."

I kept the thought to myself of the term boyfriend being too inadequate a word. "Then what's stopping you?" I began nibbling his earlobe, and his cold, masculine hands dived underneath my shirt, caressing the small of my back.

"Er, I am?" Alice shrieked. She clearly wasn't in shock anymore, but I think she might be traumatized. "Eeew!" she screamed loudly, her hands flapping her face like a fan. "I find out that I may or may not be, but most like can be, magical – i.e. a witch – and the first thing I see is my brother and his girlfriend talking dirty and doing awful things to each other… in the kitchen! Ew, ew, ew! I'm telling Esme!"

I pretended to be offended by Alice's accusations and threat. "Excuse me, Mrs. Whitlock," I said in the haughtiest voice I could muster – and since I was a Delacour, and a Fortunato to boot, my voice was as haughty as it can get. "But a proper lady does not talk dirty in any way, shape or form." I winked discreetly at Edward. "They talk seductively, if you must know."

"And she was succeeding," added Edward as he nuzzled into my long, blonde hair. I still haven't gotten round to retrieving my hair potions from my cottage.

"Eeew!" Alice exclaimed again, covering her ears with her hands and shutting her eyes closed. "I'm going to Jasper." She promptly left the kitchen to join her, what I was sure to be a, very amused husband.

"I honestly think that Alice was exaggerating," I commented unflappably once the girl in question was out of the room. "We weren't doing awful things to each other, weren't we?"

"Well, we are in the kitchen," said Edward as he played with a lock of my hair. "Humans usually prepare food in this room, and as an unspoken agreement, it's meant to be kept clean and pure."

I bit my lip and deliberated for a moment, enjoying immensely how Edward's eyes darkened as he stared at my bottom lip. He licked his own unconsciously. "Do you think Esme would mind if we break that unspoken agreement?" I asked, trailing a finger from Edward's ear to trace his neck and shoulders, exposing the bare skin as I pushed down the cotton material.

"I think –" Edward shivered under my touch, and I was pleased. "I think sh-she would… mind!" The last word was uttered as a yelp. I had just pinched his bum with my other hand.

"Oh well," I said morosely and stopped my fingers from roaming around. I moved to wrap my hands around me and I stepped back, away from Edward. "I think we should respect her wishes. She is the woman of the house, after all." I pretended to ignore the obvious disappointment displaying on Edward's face. It was adorable, like a cute Yorkshire terrier puppy, except better – way better.

"Actually…" Edward grabbed my hands and draped them over his neck, placing his on my waist. He was gripping me tightly, but not uncomfortably. "I don't really think Esme would mind," he lied unconvincingly. He then captured my lips into a heated kiss.

Reluctantly, I pushed him back. I had a part to play, and I wasn't going to let this hunky vampire get in the way of my fun.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." I wagged my index finger at him, reprimanding. "Edward, don't you respect your own mother?" I asked, mock offended. "You know I read somewhere that the way your boyfriend treats their mother is the way they will treat you in the future. How do you think that makes me feel?" I pressed a hand to my chest, acting hurt. I even batted my eyes and looked at the ceiling for further effect, as if I was going to cry.

"Fine," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He muttered inaudibly for a moment, and then as an idea came to him, his head snapped up, a wide, cocky grin playing on his kissable lips. It was a reminder that he was just an adult trapped in a teenager's body. "Do you want to visit our meadow?" he asked.

I tapped a finger to my chin, deliberating. I had stopped all pretenses now. My body, fueled by my hormones (both from being a teenager and a Veela), was screaming for Edward to touch me in ways only he was allowed.

"I don't really fancy getting covered with dirt and mud."

"But I love it when you're dirty." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well, I don't," I retorted. Edward deflated and leaned on the sink counter for support. "All right," I sighed, taking pity. "We can go to my cottage."

And then I attacked him, my body touching as much of Edward as I could. The next thing we both knew, we were stumbling through my cottage door after a loud crack assaulted our ears, signaling that we had apparated. I was so focused on Edward – how his fingers trailed burning fire on the bare skin of my back, or how he moaned out my name like it was something special – that I didn't notice the extra presence in the hallway. I also didn't notice the liquid green fire in the fireplace turn back to the normal shade of red and gold.

"Isabella Marie Fortunato-Delacour," a female voice screeched in outrage. "What are you doing to that man?"

A/N: Care to guess who the 'female voice' is? Here's a clue: it's not Gabrielle. For one this, she wouldn't address her cousin so formally, and for another, she would cheer her on for 'getting it on' with a guy. Heh, heh, heh…

On other notes, the histories of the Cullens I've mentioned are mostly true, as any true-blue Twilight fan knows. However, I made up some of Alice's (like the grandmother's death thing) and most of Emmett's (in the original story, there was no sweetheart or brother, as far as I know). I'm unsure if Esme's middle name is Anne. It's not shown in Wikipedia, but I think I've read it in some of the fics I've read. *shrugs*