Sam? The same person Jacob had been confiding in him about just earlier?

Harry glanced at Billy in question, Jacob had after all indicated a connection between the two. However, the older man seemed equally confused.

"What are you doing here—Hey!"

The thud of shoe clad footsteps approached assertively.

Harry rose from his seat, coming to stand by Billy's side just as the unfamiliar man reached the kitchen. Jacob trailed behind him, looking annoyed but unharmed. Good, Harry thought, for Sam's sake.

His magic impatiently reached out to check the new person. Sam glared as it washed over him, flinching back. Then he smiled, in a way. No, Harry realized, he was baring his teeth. Which made sense considering that the man in front of him was not human. This time, Harry was familiar with the connection to the Horcrux-like artifact from the mountain. Whatever this guy was, Jared was the same. What on earth had he stumbled upon in this tiny town?

"Bit early for a social call, don't you think?" Harry remarked, his mind racing. Both Jared and Sam had this strange link to the soul Fawkes had encountered. He was willing to bet his wand that the last member of their trio, whatever his name had been, was similarly connected.

"Who the hell are you," the tall man demanded. Harry had the feeling he wasn't asking about his name.

Nevertheless, "Harry," he answered flippantly.

Billy broke in, his voice heated, before he could bait him further. "Sam, this is unnecessary."

The wizard glanced at the old man again. He looked angry, irritated, but not surprised.

"Really, if you wanted breakfast that badly, you could've asked nicely," Harry chided playfully.

Sam's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I could ask you the same," Harry countered. Honestly, Sam was the one who'd barged in. "But if you must know, I was eating breakfast."

"You're not welcome here," he retried, still glaring. Jacob scoffed while Billy sighed.

"Bold claim," Harry smiled.

The man stepped forward belligerently. Jacob fumbled to follow, worry clear on his face. "Hey, look, just calm down," he pleaded, voice cracking from the stress.

Harry eyed his approach coolly, a tight rein on his magic as it itched to send the aggressor flying through a window. The man stopped a couple feet away, probably further than he'd intended. Harry could see the first trace of hesitation trickle down his face now. Considering it was a sweat droplet it wasn't too hard to notice. The knuckles on his tightly balled up fists were white with the strain, standing starkly out against his otherwise rusty complexion. He didn't dare come closer.

It seemed his instincts were better than his previously confident stance had advertised. Whatever capability he had to pick up Harry's magic, he was also able to understand his own inadequacy. Still, he stood his ground, even if it was further away than originally planned.

Whilst a staring contest wasn't on Harry's to-do-list it seemed he'd have to make room for one today. Sam was holding his green gaze with admirably stupid stubbornness, despite his trembling hands.

Billy cleared his throat pointedly, forcing Sam to look away. He looked rather grateful for the intervention. "Sam, let's talk outside," he stated, his voice rough, bearing no room for discussion. He rolled his chair out of the kitchen and toward the patio door. "You two go ahead and finish your breakfasts."

Once a couple steps further away, Sam seemed to regain some of his previous spirit and threw him a parting glare. Harry waggled his fingers back at him in a mocking wave, surreptitiously jinxing him. Or, so he'd thought, apparently the power put in was enough to alert the other man once again to Harry's magic. He looked down his body, as if the jinx would show itself to him with enough focus.

Billy called for him from outside and Sam furtively gave up on his examination to go join the older man instead. He smashed his nose into the door on the way out, tripping over the doorsill as well. Turning around to slam the door shut, he squeezed his fingers in the crack. Seemed the jinx was working well already. Jacob winced with each 'accident'.

"Wow that was unlucky," he snickered. Harry noticed Sam turn his head to scowl at the other teen from behind the closed door. Had he heard him?

"Terribly so," Harry agreed. He turned back to his breakfast, settling down at the table once more. His toast had turned cold, but it was still delicious.

Jacob joined him at the table and refilled his plate with more food. "What was that about anyway? Never seen Sam that upset about anybody except the Cullens."

"First time meeting him, so no clue," Harry replied. He hadn't exactly lied. Jared had been confused in their encounter but not unfriendly, so he didn't know why this Sam would be so openly hostile. "The Cullens?" That was the vampire's last name, but Jacob had indicated a plural. "Bella's boyfriend, you mean?"

"Well yeah, and his family," Jacob replied through a bite of his own toast.

Family? So there were more of them. Vampire generally travelled in pairs, but Harry assumed there had to be more from Jacob's wording. The empathy required for human blood abstinence may lend itself to tighter bonds. So a coven of what, three? Maybe four?

Chewing through and a sip of milk later, Jacob spoke more clearly, "Some hogwash about them being a threat." He rolled his eyes, clearly uncaring of the cautioning. "Sam and the council are real uppity about it though. When one of them started working at the hospital—"

The patio door slammed open with a bang. Jacob started violently, his head whirling around. Sam was glowering at him hotly from the opening. "Watch your mouth, Jacob."

It would seem he didn't appreciate Jacob telling an outsider about their enemies. Harry mentally cursed the interruption, a hospital? A vampire working at a hospital? Self-control aside, recovering alcoholics don't decorate their house with wine bottles.

Billy rolled over and re-shut the door, pulling the younger man back to their conversation.

"Jesus," Jacob breathed. "What the hell?" he scowled, confusion evident on his face. Of course, he was unaware Sam seemed able to hear his every word.

So, the Quileute council were aware of the Cullens' undead affliction? Or perhaps they simply knew them to be dangerous. Either way, this was getting complicated.

Wasn't he supposed to be sent here for safety? Harry smiled in amusement. Typical Potter luck.

The two were still arguing outside. He was tempted to eavesdrop, but wondered if the spell would register with the man. Before he could decide on the risk versus reward, Sam finally stalked off, headed straight for the woods behind the house.

Billy rolled back inside looking tired from the interaction. Jacob jumped up to help bring his old man back to the kitchen.

"What was that about, dad?" Jacob asked once they were all by the table again.

Billy sighed, contemplating his answer for a moment. "Apparently Charlie mentioned his nephew," a nod to Harry, "staying over when he was on the phone with Harry Clearwater this morning. They were planning the fishing trip tomorrow."

"So what," Jacob demanded, frowning. "First the Cullens, and now Harry?"

Out of words, Billy appeared wearily resigned. Harry swallowed the last bite of his toast before throwing a friendly punch at Jacob's shoulder. "Come on, they're just jealous you won't come join their group now that you have me," he jested.

Jake rolled his eyes, but smiled. Billy looked a little startled at the mention of Sam's group, but kept quiet, grateful for the discontinued questioning.

The morning continued peacefully after that, Charlie picking him up around noon. But not before Jacob had made him swear he'd be back the next week.

"Did you have a nice time?" his uncle asked him as they took off.

Harry nodded, answering honestly, "I did." The whole Sam-incident had been especially amusing, and rather informative.

Fawkes was waiting in the window when they pulled up, peering at him curiously.

"I thought he'd run away when I checked your room and saw him gone," Charlie chuckled, "I was panicking for a solid ten minutes, ready to call you up. Then he suddenly appeared when Bella started fixing dinner."

"Bloody glutton," Harry muttered. "Don't worry about him flying out, he'll come back." Especially for food.

The bird in question cooed at them, greeting the two in his own way.

The day trickled by from there. After spending hours rechecking his books for any mention of the Quileutes, he had to concede defeat. Perhaps they'd be mentioned in a more comprehensive guide for creatures inhabiting specifically America? The likelihood for that was low though. The Ministry of Magic wouldn't have sent him here had they known of the strong presence of supernatural beings, he thought resignedly from his spot on the floor of his bedroom.

Noticing his unease, Fawkes hopped onto his propped-up knee. Harry stroked his plumed neck. Seattle was sure to have at least a couple alleys but travelling there would perhaps prove too difficult and time consuming. His pitstop in the big city before his connected flight to Port Angeles had been spent entirely within the busy, tightly packed airport. With surveillance everywhere it wasn't exactly a good spot for apparition. Perhaps his invisibility cloak and a silencing charm would do it? Popping up possibly right in the middle of a crowd was, however, still quite risky.

Port Angeles could be an option. It wasn't too far either, so he wouldn't have to rely on the scant memory of his short-spent time there to arrive safely. A bus ride should work just fine.

"What do you say, friend? Up to explore the city?" Harry asked the bird. Fawkes would be a helpful eye from above. Able to see through most enchantments and wards, they shouldn't have too hard of a time finding a magical community. If there even was one there.

Fawkes trilled eagerly in response, tilting his head.

"We'll go tomorrow," Harry decided. Charlie would be out fishing, and Bella would undoubtably be with her boyfriend. No better time for his excursion to take place.

The doorbell rang. Harry rose and peered out of his room. Charlie had beat him to the door. He glanced at him when he peeked out. Turning his attention back to the unexpected guest behind the front door, he spoke, "Listen Crowley, Bella isn't here."

"I promised I'd take her to prom," a confident voice countered. Harry leaned against the doorway, amused at the situation. Charlie, however, seemed very uncomfortable.

"I'll make a call," he eventually allowed.

Turned out it was Bella's boyfriend he was ringing up. "Edward," he greeted, "there's a boy here. It's Tyler Crowley. He's says he's here to pick up Bella," he cleared his throat, "for prom." Every word had been reluctantly dragged out.

A moment later he handed the phone over to the boy at the door. It seemed the vampire's words were enough. His voice sheepish now, he apologized, "Sorry, Chief, seems there was a misunderstanding."

Charlie nodded, clearly done with the situation, "No problem, Crowley." With the door closed, he let out a sigh.

Harry chuckled. "Someone seems to have missed out on Bella's relationship status," he remarked.

His uncle snorted at the thought. "Somehow. Although I am curious how that Cullen convinced her to go."

Harry shrugged.

The next morning, after Charlie had left the house, Harry got ready for his trip. He could travel alone and call for his phoenix friend once he reached the city, but the bird's flashy travel method would not lend itself well to subtlety. So, he'd have to find a secluded spot to reunite with the bird.

The walk to the bus stop was short, the ride itself far longer. Stopping every five minutes to let passengers on and off, what had been an hour-long car ride quickly took an extra half hour by bus. He should probably see about investing some time into a license.

That thought would have to be put on hold however, as he reached the city centre. Thanking the bus driver, he hopped off. The city wasn't too isolated from the forest, thankfully. So a little walk later, he was able to call for his avian friend.

Fawkes appeared in a flash of fire, wings spread out in the air as the flames melded with his feathers. Extinguished a moment later, he landed on Harry's outstretched arm.

"Ready?"

Fawkes cooed, nipping his ear before taking off.

Harry rubbed at the smarting spot, shaking his head in exasperation, before heading back to the busy road.

Scanning each building on his way, as he made his way through the sparsely crowded streets, he wasn't too confident there'd be anything to find. Port Angeles was small, and whilst he'd encountered magical communities in smaller areas, America was far larger of an area. There was no reason for any settlement to be developed with Seattle a short floo-trip away, for those already had the connections set up.

Harry sighed, he really didn't want to travel more for some potions ingredients today, but the sooner he was able to study efficiently, the better.

A sharp cry from above drew his attention.

Fawkes was gliding easily in the sky over his head. Seemed he'd found something, Harry realized hopefully. When sure he'd gotten Harry's attention he fled down the street, keeping level with the roofs of the buildings. Following on foot, the bird took him through streets and side alleys. Some odd ten minutes of dogged trailing later, he found Fawkes perched quietly on a nondescript building.

It turned out to be a bookstore. Small and plain, it seemed perfectly ordinary. But Fawkes had brought him here, and Harry trusted his friend's senses. He brought his hand down over his face, a simple charm altering his features enough to be unrecognizable, and stepped inside.

A bell sounded his welcome, the sound washing over him in an uncommonly familiar manner. It must have been enchanted with a soft detection charm. It didn't seem too intrusive, simply sampling his magic minutely.

His arrival was followed by the shopkeeper's bored greeting. "Hi and welcome to Nelson's." The young woman behind the counter didn't bother glancing up more than once after delivering her undoubtably rehearsed welcome. From the lack of reaction, Harry inferred she wasn't the holder of the ward.

He nodded back his greeting. She was most certainly a muggle, he realized. Doubting she'd be of much help to him, he strolled through the neat rows and racks of books, looking for any sign to indicate the shop's second purpose.

Some rustling sounded at the counter, hidden from Harry behind the bookshelves. "Mom?" the shopkeeper called, clearly startled. "Uh, we have a customer," she continued in a half-whisper.

"I am aware," a new voice replied.

Harry walked into view. An older woman was waiting for him now. He stopped at a respectable distance, crossing his arms and leaning against the shelf. It seemed he had been wrong, he mused. The younger woman was more likely a squib, not a muggle. Either way, she was not magical.

He glanced at the new woman. Now here was the person he'd been looking for; a witch. The weak ward must have been an alert to magical presences entering.

"Looking for anything in particular?" she asked politely. It only then seemed to click with her daughter, her eyes widened in understanding.

"Indeed," he smiled, "although it goes a bit beyond books, I'll admit."

She had a gentle face, her eyes and mouth wrinkled by the signs of frequent laughs. "Let's have a look then." She gestured behind her to a discreetly placed door.

Harry followed her through. The hallway abruptly turning into a staircase dwindling down.

"I mostly deal with regulars in this part of the shop," she confessed as they stepped down. "We rarely see new faces down here. May I ask how you came across us?"

"A friend referred me." Well, in Fawkes' own way, he had.

"I see." She didn't ask further, seemingly understanding his reluctance to divulge additional information.

They soon set foot in a stone-floored room, the walls covered disorderly with books of more familiar subjects. Some floating around as they fought over what space was theirs. A couple owls sat peacefully on a wooden perch, surrounded by a few more empty perches in various sizes, shapes and materials, all carrying price tags.

The shop continued past the book section; no doubt expanded magically as it appeared to fill more space than the building allowed. From where he was stood, he could spot a wide arrangement of wizarding equipment in some of the branched off rooms. Telescopes and maps in one alcove, whilst another carried writing utensils of various components.

"There aren't many of us settled here," the elder woman explained, "so we carry mostly the basics; a little bit of everything. But owl-orders only take a day to arrive here from Seattle."

Wit-sharpening potions weren't the most complicated. So he was hopeful he would be able to leave with the essential items. He gave her his list, it contained a few more articles than he necessarily needed today.

She scanned the list, moving out of the book section towards another room, her eyes were still glued to the paper. Harry should really work on his handwriting, he thought as he followed the woman. She was straining her eyes to interpret the chicken scratches.

"I can tell you right away, we don't have mandrake leaves nor the moths," she asserted. "However, I can have it sent to you. The rest I'm able to sort for you today."

"Please," Harry pleasantly agreed. "I can pick the rest up here when it arrives." He wasn't willing to disclose his uncle's address.

The woman nodded agreeably, walking past the aisles of phials, cauldrons and knives. She arrived in the small apothecary part and quickly picked out his desired components. After rechecking with him that everything was in order, she wrapped the goods up to avoid damage, before stuffing them into a paper bag with string handles.

"Let's ring you up," she smiled, leading them back towards the spindly staircase.

Harry paused when they passed the perches. One in particular standing out to him due to its resemblance to Fawkes' previous stand. He checked the tag, which descripted the material as a steel mix. The price wasn't too bad.

The woman was paused at the first step, having noticed his wavering attention late.

"This one too, if you don't mind."

"Of course." She waved a hand, shrinking it to a more manageable size. It levitated leisurely into another bag.

Harry nodded his thanks.

Finally on the surface again, the witch's daughter stood ready at the counter. Gazing curiously at him as her mother typed in the numbers.

"You're British?" she queried curiously.

His accent was too big of a giveaway to bother denying it. "Guilty as charged."

"So you graduated Hogwarts?" she said eagerly, more a demand than a question. At his nod her eyes widened in excitement. "You've met him?"

"Emma," her mother admonished.

He was relatively sure about who she was referring to but tilted a brow in question.

"You know— Harry Potter," she half-squealed.

He handed her mother what she was owed. The lady was looking reproachfully at her daughter's keen questioning, but also seemed somewhat interested herself.

"He's a very private person. Keeps few friends." All true.

Blushing a little, she mumbled, "Oh of course." A pause. "Is it true he outflew a dragon?" Her eyes were shining again.

Avoiding the question with a chuckle, he thanked her mother for her help and time, bags in hand. "I'll come by for the rest tomorrow if that suits you."

"Tomorrow evening, or Tuesday morning," she settled. "I'll have it ready for you."

Bowing his head in thanks, he left. The door once again ringing at his departure.

Fawkes must've gotten bored waiting for him, the big bird missing from his previous perch on the building. Harry ambled down the street, letting his magic stretch out in search of his companion.

It pulled him forward, guiding him through the city. The grey concrete and brick thinned out in favour of grass and trees. Stepping into the likely previously peaceful city park, his friend wasn't hard to spot.

The ducks were flapping their wings threateningly at the big curious bird, quacking away in warning. Fawkes wasn't one to take a hint, and his continued approach sent the ducks scrambling away.

"Oy, you ruddy menace," Harry called out.

Fawkes turned to him curiously, bopping his crimson-feathered head in amusement.

"Had some fun, did you?"

He cooed happily.

"Come on then."

Walking off from the open area, the two disappeared in a cloud of flames, disguised from sight by the thick treeline.

…

Notes: Harry always thanks the bus driver.

I usually have a hundred words for the notes, so this emptiness disturbs me.

Oh, and are American shops, malls and stores even open on Sundays?