* * * United We Stand * * *

Over the ensuing months, finally free of overt vampiric threats but not from rapid-child-development fears or Quileute school-year and career obligations, magical instruction continues as a twice weekly event. Interspersed with plenty of study time by those inclined to assert themselves, a great deal of fascinating discoveries are made.

For the Cullens, the foremost of these comes upon the heels of the regrettable fact that: as was anticipated (both now being of the same species), Edward and Bella are unable to wandlessly apparate, or otherwise perform extraordinary magic by touching each other, any longer. Quite unexpectedly rising in its stead, however, and apparently very much enhanced by the recent upgrades their wands have seen – pretty quickly it couldn't be ignored that somehow this loss had been superseded by a new and much more widespread phenomenon of unknown potential: shared cores.

Priori Incantatem, they'd subsequently had cause to learn, was an effect caused by the antagonistic connection of two wands that shared an identical core… made rare by the vast unlikelihood of any two such wands ever coming into combative contact. While this effect wasn't the same as what they kept experiencing, which connections were of a much friendlier nature, to be sure; it was among the closest their research could uncover. The thing was – that every one of their wands did share a core with at least one other member of the family. In fact: aside from the donor herself, Bella's core was common to them all. To top this off, wherever a shared core wasn't the case – and occasionally in addition when it was – not infrequently, donor-core relationships existed. All this combined together, made their situation absolutely(if not exponentially) unique (a prime study opportunity!)… and they were only just beginning to realize the significance.

Because: it always happened when two spells – coming from compatible wands – would simultaneously intersect at the same target. If both wands shared a core, suddenly a beautiful golden beam of light would link them together with their target in a V-formation… and the gently compelling connection would visually adjust in sync with their (oftimes startled) movements, until the beams of both wands no longer pointed toward the same location, near or far. While this rare but allegedly benign effect was not so unheard of as to miss being recorded in the history books, its often companionate but occasionally solo twin had garnered absolutely no mention at all. Was it because the diamond-like sparkle of its connection only happened whenever intersecting wand magic linked a donor with its core? Maybe the rarity of any magical donor even being able to wield a wand, explained why this effect would have never before been observed.

Nevertheless, the precedent was there. The absolute unwillingness of any wand to act against its donor, was a documented fact. At the same time, the very evidence that abiotic vampires could effectively wield the most impotent of wands – illustrated that the nature of the wielder was every bit an essential part of any magic performed, as was the wand. So… did that mean that whatever wand might happen to be in the hand of a core's donor, at any given time – was capable of creating this sparkling link, with any wand of its owner's core? So far, this engaging theory had held true. Could such a scenario actually trigger a diamond-like rendition of Priori Incantatem, if ever those wands became antagonistically engaged? Rather than acting against its donor, after all…

What a fascinating feature of shared-cores! Carlisle enthused with fascination, once again. I would have never imagined. Is there a practical application for it? An unrecognized purpose, perhaps? There is no precedent for this many of them. So, what have we not noticed yet? Why do these connections occur? They're so intrinsically lovely. There has to be a reason; some inherent significance. Where God closes a door he always opens a window. What could be done with this? How to pursue it? Exploring the possibilities could easily become a full-time occupation.

Needless to say, the topic commanded a great deal of interest.


Meanwhile on the Quileute side of things, it quickly becomes evident that instructing the wolves to reach magical proficiency is going to take a considerable amount of time. Consistent with the limited potency of the shifter core, clearly wand-magic was simply not a topic that any of them could take to with ease. Neither, were the shortcuts the Cullens had discovered available to them – because Imperius was an unforgivable curse to the human mind, and the voluntary action of walking into a thusly prepared ward affected them in much the same way. Far too absolutely compelling, all while the overwhelmingly susceptible experience completely distracted from the purpose of the exercise in question. Shudder; the encounter felt like walking straight into an alpha's command, that couldn't be ignored! Surely such a foreign influence would result in a mental battle over alpha supremacy if ever attempted in mind-linked wolf form… and the prospect of it ever happening to the real alpha was just plain scary. Under compromising conditions such as these, even were it theoretically possible to successfully focus on a much quicker realization of the deeper nuances of any spell – which outcome was dubious at best – none of those who trusted them enough to try it once, could consider submitting to it again. Edward couldn't blame them.

In lieu of this much more direct method, the value of magical reference books was now paramount for their education (as well as for the Cullens' advanced study), and quickly gave rise to the offer of freely supplying every necessary text for the tribe, while any wolf graciously acted as mailman for the receiving of theirs as well. Unsurprisingly, both Jacob and Seth were quite willing to volunteer for the role… prompting the purchase of two dedicated mail owls, plus the creation of a pair of portable hidden spaces capable of containing everything that might ever be delivered by them.

Carefully fabricated to look and feel like nifty roll-up organizers – the kind intended to be attached to the inside of any closet door – when mounted and unrolled, each enchanted doorway provided convenient walk-through access to its own very generous workspace… which now not only served as a safely permanent floo destination, but could double as both library and secure practice area for use with all manner of sensitive magical equipment. To any muggle unable to see or enter inside, it would appear to be no more than a hanging shoe rack… coincidentally adorned with one stubborn pair of shoes for every person currently located therein.

Presented to the Quileute tribe alongside the very first installment of books received (expertly encompassing all manner of topics suitable for beginning magical instruction), the first doorway now resided at the Quileute pack home (currently Sam and Emily's place). Its twin graced the pantry of the Cullen residence, and – in addition to the highest quality basics of magical education – already housed a sizable collection of advanced volumes on the topics of magical medicine, practical charmwork, the shared-core phenomenon, transportation theory, warding and tracking practices, their own and other species histories, and the known elements of magical evolution.

Naturally, with every new topic devoured, the selection expanded to include a few more… causing the Cullen studio to grow at a rapid rate. Seth was a common occupant now – if not generously laden with another set of books to be added to it (recently delivered by owl post), then because the lingering scent of his magic tended to annoy everyone else in the Quileute practice room… making this his preferred place to study. The isolation helped somewhat as well, since every member of both packs had adopted a unique topic of basic education to master… in the hope that eventually they could each reap the benefits of sharing the cumulative results over their mind link, allowing them to advance even a fraction as quickly as the Cullens could… and that much distraction was hard to work around.

No one could begrudge how much more quickly he seemed to pick up on the essentials, though – faster than any of his pack siblings, even though Jake similarly practiced at the Cullens' quieter location – apparently because his wand's sensitivity to the intention behind the effort, ultimately helped to teach him how to make it more effective. Grrr, aided by a vampire once again!; some among them still had a hard time defenselessly acknowledging this fact. Because, it was true: even given this slightly accelerated rate, it would still take years for shifter magic to become a competitive ability.

Conversely, now that she was privy to her husband's shortcut as well: Bella had seemed to catch up with the rest of them (or at least could, when introduced to any spell) in almost no time flat. Surely Renesmee would not be so far behind.


By late November, the news from Hogwarts was that: while the floo network yet remained unsafe for outsider visitation (due to their 'High Inquisitor's' oppressive monitoring habit), nevertheless the Room of Requirement had retained good local use right under her nose. From the beginning of the school year, Harry's occlumency lessons had continued with periodic earnestness in this private space (although, without much progress), and now: Alice's visions could report that the secret society of the DA was also blooming under his leadership. Good for them!

Unfortunately, the very act of creating it had gotten Harry solidly onto Delores' targeting radar, and he and the Weasley twins had promptly been banned from the Quidditch field. Abuse of this nature was on the rise throughout the school – which, through its High Inquisitor, was effectively Ministry condoned – and the need was keenly felt for a solution to this problem.

It was in this frame of mind – among other considerations, trying to figure out how they could effectively help out from a distance – that a broken vase heralding shattering news and an abrupt departure… thoroughly disrupted every plan.

If the Cullen family couldn't find a way to peacefully stand their ground – they wouldn't even be here in a month. The Volturi were coming to annihilate them.

Physically ineffective against the superior force without magic at their disposal – the use of which would only serve to eternally highlight them as a supreme danger to the ruling coven – of course the idea of escaping into the magical world had crossed their minds, preferably before the methodology of such a disappearance could ever come to their awareness. After all, it wasn't too late for them to suppose that perhaps Bella's gift had simply included the ability to hide them all. Right? However, such an exodus could never be considered just a temporary endeavor… because no matter how short a time it would take before Renesmee's growth would instantly prove she wasn't an immortal child: Aro would expect an account of the truth the moment they returned. At that point, he would be inclined to notice too many blank spots protecting magic in their minds (as well as that it wasn't Bella's talent that had hidden them), and possibly recognize some of the locations or associations they couldn't hide. Thus, it had to be a permanent migration, or not at all; and would ultimately be fraught with the same perils that had already determined they could never live freely within the wizarding world.

Most important of all, however, was that if they up and disappeared: what was to keep the Volturi from targeting friends and family in an effort to flush them out? Even if merely in the name of extracting information, as was their wont; human and vampire associations alike – though especially human – would all be vulnerable. Furthermore, many of them had met Albus at the wedding, where Eleazar had met Bella… Albus, whose recognizable face was entirely too obvious a connection to the magical world… and Eleazar, whose talent could (and likely would) be called upon to confirm or disprove hers, now that they had met. Their secrets would not be kept hidden in their absence; leaving family to pay the price. NO! Under no circumstances could they betray their friends to this. Sticking around and finding a way to prove their case – was going to be the only way to keep everyone safe.

Thus, had the gathering of witnesses begun… instantly making unavailable any option of further magical practice or instruction. For the Cullens, anyway. The reasoning behind this was simple: even when performed in an otherwise undetectable manner, the human scent of nearly every wand was something that could not be explained away. Neither was a fresh scent trail that led into the empty pantry… but not back out.


In the wake of Jasper and Alice's abrupt departure, Bella's only private clues toward their success were a name and address in Seattle, followed by the word 'underwater', and finally the phrase 'wool cloaks'. Though she'd wracked her brain in an effort to figure them all out, none of it had made any sense.

It wasn't until after her first visit with Jenks, that she'd realized they weren't in fact clues to success… only clues to make failure just a little bit more palatable. Sob! The horrible thought of sending Renesmee and Jacob out into the world all alone – no longer able to enjoy the first-hand protection of their parents – had nearly brought her to her knees… and immediately she'd understood what the second clue had meant. Better than sending them off into muggle never-never land, forevermore to shy away from being noticed by the Volturi… they could live in the magical world (where at least they would blend in well, for long enough to safely grow up and learn magic for themselves)… if, that is, they had an absolutely secure way to arrive – and someday return – that didn't require them to know how to perform it.

Only some kind of portal located underwater, could non-magically counteract the supreme threat posed by any scent trail leading to it.

And so, her outing had run longer than anticipated… while she stopped on the way home to correspond with Mr. Dumbledore, then deliver a letter to be sent off by owl post. Dropping a note off at the reservation in this manner – so long as she didn't get any mail coming back via wolf in reply – no one would be the wiser. Being that it was, in fact, a request for Gringotts to officially add Renesmee to their account, and through them – to every muggle account they had linked to it – (no matter that she and any future progeny were already their natural beneficiaries through shared DNA, this would make it possible for her to access them; sob)… it was best that no one would be. Because: as much as any of her family's knowledgeable observations of magic should be able to stay hidden from Aro ('should' being the operative word here, which uncertainty worried her), fanciful speculation concerning the very real nature of their final escape: wouldn't be.

Which is why, even just this one time contacting Albus – had needed to be carefully orchestrated… from an empty building on the outskirts of Seattle, through which their patronus correspondence would pass unnoticed. Aside from the critical need to not give their keen visitors any inkling of such an event, no one of her family could be allowed to recognize that she'd done anything at all in relation to magic, potentially notice the headmaster's scent upon her clothes, or be in any way close enough to catch a glimpse of his thoughts or patronus. Not being nearly as versed in the various spells available, however (having preferred to spend such focus upon her daughter) – no matter that she picked magic up as quickly as the rest of them now – made not being able to do any research on the subject, a significant obstacle. Ultimately, this had turned out to be the only real option. Even so, she could only promise one more opportunity to converse like this again – when she returned next week.

Thankfully, courtesy of the Masens, Dumbledore had already learned of their predicament – including all of their valid reasonings and considerations – and was not just a little concerned. Protecting the well-being of the entire family was an absolute imperative in his mind, and yet – what kind of protection could ultimately be offered against so formidable a supernatural adversary, when magic couldn't be allowed to be mentally or physically revealed in any way? (It wasn't like they could all be voluntarily and simultaneously herded through a memory modification ward.) Already he'd thought of contacting Bella – the only mentally undetectable avenue of supportiveness he could think of – but had quickly recognized the many hazards presented by immortal muggle company being hosted around the clock (anything that might be detected, would never be forgotten!); he was glad she was contacting him now.

By the end of it, Fawkes had delivered him directly into the enclosed space she'd chosen to meet in… and he'd not only shown her how to remove all trace of his being there (to whatever degree her new senses could potentially detect), but had finished creating the portal himself – securing permission to access Hogwarts by doing so (an absolute requirement of portal magic) – such that it was now ready to be used whenever and wherever was deemed necessary. The now thoroughly warded and secret-keeper-protected piece of non-descript portal fabric… would remain open and traversable as it gently hovered in the water wherever it was placed, from which point it could be accessed indefinitely, or removed to another location as necessary. Additionally, though he was quite touched and willing to humbly accept her request to act as mentor for Renesmee and Jacob, should anything befall them… Albus was much more interested in the idea of tweaking his own magic to accommodate for vampire senses… in the event there might be anything he could possibly do, to help save them all.

By their second meeting, however, not much in the way of solutions had come to mind. Albus had experimented with masking his presence effectively behind a close-fitting all-creatures ward – in combination with speed and sense enhancing potions – such that in a pinch, wielding the Death Stick with its unique signature scent, he could temporarily pass himself off as an invisible vampire. However, the fact that Bella had no trouble seeing through his disguise… meant that anyone she shielded would be able to as well… placing the entire burden of his safety – were he to utilize that capability – upon whether or not she could flawlessly shield him as well, from start to finish. It was too much of a gamble.

Besides, what would he be able to do? Vampires only had one talent, and so passing off something magical as another talent was out of the question. The Death Stick wouldn't allow him to create an effective protego shield that would supplement Bella's effort, and neither could he compromise them by bringing Carlisle's scent behind enemy lines. It made more sense for him to not be there at all.

Naturally their strongest option was to physically bolster the shield Bella was learning to create – in such a way as would hide the fact that it had been magically enhanced to do so. Inasmuch as the scent of her magic was helpfully undetectable amidst her typical company, nevertheless the focus it took to erect a Protego shield around any number of individuals in the spur of the moment – was too much of a distraction from the much more critical effort embodied by her talent. A pre-emptive ward, then, would be best… one that could be clandestinely made active around where the friendly forces would stand, before everyone arrived… so long as they could know what to make it repel ahead of time, that wouldn't also keep away one of their own. Ah, if only Alice were here; she would tell me. And immediately, there it was – clearly explaining the last clue that Alice had left behind. Wool Cloaks! Of course! Suddenly it is obvious; none of our own will be wearing those. Then, once the fight starts – it should be enough to distract and slow them all down while Renesmee safely escapes. Oh, Alice – you're a genius! I'm so sorry I won't get to be around to see you again. I'd kiss you.

Come New Year's Eve, at least it was easy enough to erect the ward silently behind them, while walking around the field with her little family. Renesmee's backpack already contained both her wand and the portal, plus instructions along with every hope and well-wish possible to send. Thanks to a last minute 'Oh no!' moment while hunting, which had reminded both parents that their daughter's magical thoughts were yet unprotected against Aro – Edward had promptly borrowed her wand to place the charm securely upon their precious miracle within the privacy of their cottage. Not a goodbye! Then and now she'd had to remind herself, so as not to give him any clues: though it feels like our final blessing upon you, it is not a goodbye! (Internal sob.)

Finally, now that everything had been accomplished in preparation that she could – even if without any real hope of living through it – all that remained rested upon how effectively, and for how long, she would be able to keep every key player protected within her shield. No pressure.

And every reason to celebrate (across two continents!) being able to return home after all.


A/N: Now that Voldemort has returned, one of his initial goals inevitably being to discover the prophecy – at last the Order has taken up defensive positions to prevent it. Thus, Mr. Weasley was in place to be attacked as in canon, and the trio has had the opportunity to meet Neville's parents.

Also: this is where EM's sister story begins! (Involving a bit less of the magical focus.) So watch for the first coordinating chapter of SoJ, next post!