A/N: So, this is something that's been rattling around in my noggin for a while now, ever since I re-discovered Twilight on Netflix a few months ago and the many Twilight Crossover Fanfictions that are around. I love me a good crossover, to be perfectly honest with you, and this is my first attempt at writing one. I know I've got other projects I'm working on, but I just needed to get this written. Updates might not be as frequent as Rewriting Destiny, but I could surprise myself there too.

Needless to say, I've played with the Timelines a bit. Okay, a lot. I've basically upped HP by about 25 years and Twilight 10 years so that they can work hand in hand, and I can keep up my overwhelming need of involvement of modern pop culture. I mean, it is fanfiction, so why the heck not?

I'm relying very heavily on the films and Fandom Wikis for anything I can't outright remember. And google for anything American. But it's also going to be very AU, not that I should have had to explain that, considering what my parings potentially could be and how I've messed around a bit. That is to say, I'm not completely certain what the endgame pairing is. If there even is one.

Basically, don't have a go if nothing is exactly the same as cannon because there's a chance that it's done on purpose. Or because I forgot. Either way, it's fanfiction and we're just here to play.

So, yeah. This takes place from the end of Deathly Hallows (Epilogue thoroughly ignored) and during the first Twilight film. I know that's usually a common place to start within this crossover fandom, but I thought I'd best let you know anyway.

I know it's long, but please bear with me. I sort of let this chapter run away from me, I didn't mean for it to be this long. And I have since realised I'm awful at writing battle scenes, so please forgive me.

As we're starting at the Battle of Hogwarts, I feel like I do need to give you some sort of heads up. There are warnings of death and violence in this chapter. And some swearing.

Chapter One: A Beginning

Another beam of red light flew past her head as she ran. She had no sense of direction, not really know where she was going or where she wanted to be. All she knew was that she had to keep running. She needed to keep running. She could feel the heat of a spell by her ear as it singed her curly hair. Yet another beam of red light missed her, but only just. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she urged her feet to keep moving, to keep pounding on the gravel underneath her feet.

She couldn't stop now.

Not yet.

Her thighs ached as she pushed them harder than she had ever pushed them before. Not even in the Forest of Dean where she, Harry, and Ron were chased by those Snatchers, had she run like this. Her life depended on it this time.

Run or die.

Run or die.

Run.

Die.

She didn't want to die. There was still so much that she needed to do in her life. So much that she needed to see. So many people she needed to meet.

She still had to return to Australia to restore her parents memories.

She still had to travel the world, see the different Wizarding Communities and how their Ministries differed from hers.

She still needed to help Harry to defeat Voldemort.

There wasn't much left to do, not really.

They had already destroyed all his horcruxes.

Diary. Gone.

Ring. Destroyed.

Locket. Sliced.

Cup. Stabbed.

Diadem. Burned.

Nagini. Decapitated.

Harry.

Harry.

A lump caught in her throat as she thought about her best friend. She couldn't remember when she realised that Harry was a Horcrux, or rather his lightening shaped scar was a horcrux, but she couldn't stop thinking about how it felt seeing her theory become a reality. At hadn't been that long ago in all honesty. Seeing him in Hagrid's arms, being carried lifelessly by the heartbroken half-giant, broke something within Hermione Granger.

The scream that ripped itself from her throat at seeing the dulled emerald green eyes of her first ever friend didn't sound entirely human to her own ears.

It was nothing compared to the scream that Ginny made at seeing the lifeless body of the boy – no, man – that she loved.

It was that moment when Hermione's world collapsed on itself.

No.

"No!"

"Harry!"

"No, please!"

"HARRY!"

Hermione remembered the cacophony of screams around her as her schoolmates, her comrades in this Merlin-forsaken war, anguished over the dead body of Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived.

Boy-Who-Loved.

Boy-Who-Died.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Ginny collapsed under the weight of her grief, Ron unable to keep his baby sister on her feet. She felt Neville move to stand next to her, the battered Sorting Hat tight in his fist. She couldn't hear what he was saying to Lord Voldemort, she barely recognised the incredulous laughter of his Death Eaters at the impassioned speech Neville gave.

Hermione was numb.

She didn't feel her feet slowly drag herself towards the Death Eaters.

She didn't hear the shouts of her friends, calling her to come back to them.

All she could hear was the thudding of her heartbeat as her pulse rushed in her ears.

All she could see was the curious look in Lord Voldemort's blood red eyes as she stared him down.

All she could feel was anger. Pure, unadulterated anger.

Hermione pulled her vine wand from the leather holster on her wrist – a birthday present from Harry when she turned sixteen – and gripped the intricately detailed wood in her hand as tightly as she could. Her wand was lowered, her arm dangling at her side, but she was ready to fire a curse within a split second.

She stopped walking a foot away from Lord Voldemort, who peered down at her with that same curiosity. From behind him, Bellatrix Lestrange began to get excited at the prospect of finally killing that Mudblood bitch, but a calmly raised hand from Lord Voldemort silenced her quickly.

Neither of them said a word as Hermione glared at the Dark Lord.

Then, he smirked at her.

Smirked.

Hermione bristled. Her hair crackled around her as her anger for the pathetic excuse of a man in front of her grew. Her magic responded to her emotions, feeding off of it.

"Fuck you." Hermione hissed at him.

Amusement overtook Lord Voldemort's curiosity as he rose an eyebrow at her. From behind him, she could see several of his Death Eaters bouncing on their feet as they resisted the urge to curse her for using such language to their Lord. Well, fuck them too.

"My, my, such strong words for such a young woman. Tell me, my dear, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Do you kiss yours?" Hermione immediately threw back, trying to ignore the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. Her wand squeaked in her palm as she tightened her grip on the wood again.

It surprised Hermione when Lord Voldemort threw his head back and laughed at her.

Laughed. At her.

How fucking dare he.

He was the reason that Harry was dead. The reason that her best friend in the entire world was gone. He didn't deserve to laugh. He didn't deserve to still speak to her.

He needed to die.

From behind Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix raised her wand and sent a bright green light – clearly the Killing Curse – towards Hermione. She managed to duck out of the way just in time, and it fizzled out on a piece of stone wall behind her.

"You're going to have to try better than that." Hermione smirked at her, and then immediately regretted it.

It was one thing to tell the Dark Lord to fuck himself, it was another thing entirely to taunt Bellatrix Lestrange. She was verifiably insane, and she still held a grudge on Hermione for stealing the sword of Gryffindor from her Gringotts Vault and having the audacity to escape her torture session.

Hermione was sure that Bellatrix was going to kill her for that now. She could see it in those manic grey eyes.

It was with that declaration that made the Order Members behind Hermione spring into action and the battle resumed once more. Death Eaters attacked anyone who crossed their path in a deadlier fashion than before. There were more bright green lights on the battlefield as there had been before Lord Voldemort called the ceasefire and Harry had died.

Harry.

Hermione remembered why she had felt so angry and so stupidly brave to stand up against Lord Voldemort, just as the Dark Lord disappeared in a mass of black smoke. Her eyes found Hagrid as he tried to leave the battlefield with Harry's body, hopefully to find somewhere to lay him to rest while the Light fought the Dark once more.

She felt her feet drag her towards the body of her best friend, and she felt her knees crack as she fell onto them. She didn't care.

She didn't care that there was chaos around her again.

She didn't care that deadly spells were flying around her and could catch her at any minute.

She didn't care that Death Eaters and Order Members alike were fighting for their lives, more often than not succumbing to fatal wounds or the Killing Curse.

She didn't care that she wasn't fighting anymore.

None of it mattered anymore.

"Hermione, move!" Someone shouted as they tried to haul her to her feet. Her wand, which had dropped out of her hands as she fell beside Harry's body, was shoved back into her right hand. She didn't know who shouted at her, or what they were saying, but they were pushing at her, urging her to run to safety.

"But Harry-"

"Someone will get his body." Neville said to her as he pushed harder against her back. Hermione stumbled on some debris, but Neville's hands on her stopped her from falling over. "You're going to die if you don't keep moving. Harry wouldn't want that. He'd want you to keep fighting. This isn't over yet."

Hermione forced herself to stop and look at Neville. She didn't remember seeing him like this before. When had he become so serious? When did he grow up from the boy looking for his lost toad, to the man trying to save her life?

"We need to kill Voldemort."

A smile grew on Neville's face at the determined look on Hermione's face. He could see her putting her grief over Harry's death to the back of her mind for now, to revisit it once Voldemort was dead.

"I'll see you at the end, Neville." She placed a quick kiss onto his cheek just before he took off in another direction.

With her new resolve, Hermione raced forward, running off instinct. She didn't know where she was going. All she knew was that she had to find Voldemort. She had to kill him. She had enough hatred and anger within her to be able to say those words and end his life forever.

Just as he ended Harry's.

That was how she found herself running aimlessly through the battlefield, dodging as many curses as she could. The threw her own back at whoever was chasing her, but knew she'd missed her mark on more than one occasion. Hermione needed to keep looking forward, to keep moving forward.

Another light flew past her ear, a dark blue curse this time, and she found herself stopping at the courtyard where she told Lord Voldemort to fuck himself.

Not her cleverest moment, in all honesty.

Hermione didn't know when she made it full circle. She could still see Harry's body in the far corner of the courtyard, but she could see the shimmering outline of a protective ward covering him. Someone had though to at least preserve his body if they couldn't move it out of the way, which was thoughtful of them.

Standing in the middle of broken walls, Hermione watched the war rage around her. Her school friends, teachers, and members of the Order were fighting Death Eaters harder than she had ever seen before. A rainbow of spells lit up the courtyard as they all fought for their lives. It would have been beautiful to watch if it they weren't in the middle of battle.

"Well, well, well. Come to beg for your death, Itty Bitty Mudblood?"

Hermione spun on her heel as Bellatrix cackled at her. Fear grew in the pit of her stomach as she watched the deranged woman step slowly towards her. The noise around her fell upon deaf ears as all she could think about was Bellatrix and her wand. The slight tremors that she had in her hand at night reminded her of how badly her crucio's hurt. Any plan she had of finding Voldemort was forgotten.

The only thing she needed to do right now was to get away from Bellatrix and her wand.

Hermione took a step back, trying to put as much distance between her and the insane witch as she could. Bellatrix still moved towards her, slowly and deliberately.

"Don't you want to play?" Bellatrix asked, tilting her head at Hermione in a confused manner. "It sounded like you wanted to play with the Big Bad Witch earlier. What changed your mind, Mudblood? Scared?"

Hermione ignored her as she continued to move backwards. She had a clear path, not tripping over any debris, bodies, or getting in the way of any duels around her. She wanted to look around, to see where her feet were taking her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Bellatrix. Not when she could be cursed at any second and needed to defend herself.

"I think Potty's little Mudblood is too scared." Bellatrix taunted again. She sent a wordless spell at Hermione's feet, causing her to jump out of the way. Instead, she tripped and fell onto the floor, her hands barely able to protect her from the impact. Her left wrist let out an unmistakable crack as pain flared up her arm. And yet, she didn't cry out. She didn't want to give Bellatrix the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. She had already screamed enough for her a month ago.

"Whoopsie." Bellatrix grinned manically at the young girl that was now at her feet. She raised her wand, pointing it directly at Hermione's heart.

"Protego!" A voice shouted from directly behind Hermione. A shimmering shield engulfed Hermione's body as a bright yellow curse bounced off the shield.

Hermione's heart stopped as she watched curse after curse rebound off the shield that protected Hermione. She knew that voice. She was familiar with the owner of that voice. She just didn't want to turn around just in case it was a figment of her imagination. Instead, she rose to her feet and stared the witch in front of her down.

To her credit, Bellatrix looked like she had seen a ghost. That alone solidified Hermione's hope.

"You! But the Dark Lord killed you!"

"Not well enough." Came Harry's reply as he stood next to Hermione. The Protego shield dropped as Hermione reached out to desperately cling onto Harry's hand. A sob threatened to burst forth from her chest, but she held strong. She could process these emotions later, be thankful that Harry wasn't actually dead later. She could kill him for almost-but-not-really dying on her later.

They had a war to stop.

"Avis. Oppugno." Hermione whispered, aiming her wand at the still-terrified looking Bellatrix. Her trusty yellow canaries sprung forth from her wand and attacked Bellatrix with their sharp beaks. The swarm of canaries circled Bellatrix, pecking at every inch of skin they could see, pulling apart her skin with their beaks. To her credit, the insane witch screamed and tried to attack the birds back, but there were hundreds of them, and she was only one witch.

"Come on, we need to end this." Harry said to her, pulling her by the hand as the birds continued their assault on Bellatrix's body.

With any luck, she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone again.

Hermione let Harry pull her with him, her mind not focused on what was happening. She could see the fear in Bellatrix' eyes and had an odd feeling of relief in her body when she realised her spell was strong enough to do such damage to a person.

"Wait, Harry, how are you alive? We thought you were dead."

"I did too." Harry gave her a small smile as he continued to lead her to the centre of the courtyard.

The duels that were raging around them stopped as they all noticed who was stood in the middle of the battlefield. Whispers of excitement replaced shouts of spells and curses as word spread about Harry's return to life.

"TOM!" Harry shouted, casting a sonorous on his vocal chords. He slowly spun in a circle, looking around him for the face of Lord Voldemort. "COME BACK HERE AND KILL ME PROPERLY!"

"Harry!" Hermione chastised, pulling at Harry's hand. He ignored her, freeing his hand from her tight grip. Fear gripped her once more. She couldn't lose Harry again. Not when she just got him back.

"COME BACK AND FIGHT ME, YOU COWARD!"

A mass of black smoke appeared before Harry and Hermione as Lord Voldemort made his appearance once more. He was seething as he stood nose-to-almost-nose with Harry.

Red on Green.

"Harry Potter." Lord Voldemort spat his name as if it were nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

"Tom Riddle." Harry responded, glaring heavily at the wizard in front of him.

"I killed you."

"You didn't do a very good job." Harry snarked.

Lord Voldemort's teeth clenched as he fought against the anger building in his weakened body. Hermione didn't know if he knew that all of his Horcrux's had been destroyed, that one simple spell could end his life.

"They're gone, Tom." Harry said to him quietly. A horrible smirk darkened Harry's features as he watched the realisation creep across Lord Voldemort's face. That answered Hermione's question. "You're human again, mortal, just like me."

If anything, that made Lord Voldemort angrier. He roared in Harry's face, his magic pushing him away by a few feet. The two stared each other down, gripping their wands tightly.

Hermione wasn't sure who made the first move, if one moved before the other, or if they attacked at the same time. The once-dark courtyard was alight with red and green as the Expelliarmus and Killing Curses connected with each other. She watched in morbid fascination as Harry and Lord Voldemort fought over the power of their curses, each of them wanting to overpower the other, each of them wanting to kill the other. They could have been pushing at each other's magic for hours, which was how long it felt like this standoff had been going on for.

Sweat poured down Harry's face as he pressed harder, inching his body closer to Lord Voldemort's. For his part, Lord Voldemort held his ground, but his wand had was shaking and Hermione knew it wouldn't be long before he succumbed to Harry's powerful magic.

A brilliant white light enveloped the two wizards, making Hermione cover her eyes to protect her vision. Minutes later, when the light disappeared, the only wizard that was standing was Harry.

Lord Voldemort's body had collapsed on the ground, lifeless.

Hermione felt herself sag with relief and exhaustion as the crack of apparition sounded around her, the telling sound of the remaining Death Eaters trying to get away before they could be punished for their crimes.

Harry fell to his knees, head bowed low as he allowed himself to catch his breath.

Hermione ran to him, collapsing beside him. She wrapped her arms around Harry, sobbing into his ear. She felt another body drop on Harry's side. She didn't need to look to know that Ron had finally found them, and they can relish in the aftermath of this war together.

oOoOoOo

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

"I mean, Ronald, that I'm moving. To America. It's only for a little bit." Hermione paused in her packing, placing one of her knitted jumpers in the suitcase before she turned to look at her friends. Harry and Ron were stood in her doorway, watching her pack her life away. They both had frowns on her face, but Ron seemed angrier than Harry. Instead, he just looked sad. Defeated.

"Yeah, but why? What about your NEWTs? I thought you wanted to go back to Hogwarts and finish school before you did anything." Ron said to her, eyeing the suitcase that was open and almost packed on her bed. "Why are you going to America of all places?"

"A few reasons." Hermione admitted quietly. She fiddled with a silver ring that sat on her right ring finger. It belonged to her mother once upon a time and was one of the only things she had kept of her parents before she erased their memories and sent them to America for their safety.

The war had ended three months ago, and in that time the Wizarding World had tried to get back to normal. Hogwarts was being rebuilt by a skilled team of aurors, curse-breakers and anyone else willing to lend a hand. Harry and Hermione had moved into Grimmauld Place while Ron stayed at The Burrow with the rest of his family. The boys had been offered places on the Auror Training Programme by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had taken up the position of Minister of Magic during the reform. They were due to leave for their training on September 1st, the same day Hermione was due back at Hogwarts to repeat her Seventh year and to complete her NEWTs.

Something had stopped her from accepting the invitation back to Hogwarts from the newly appointed Headmistress McGonagall. Since the end of the war, there had been a great unease within Hermione. She knew that she suffered from PTSD, it wasn't hard for her to figure out when she hadn't left Grimmauld Place in three weeks and refused to see anyone other than Harry and Ron. Her tremors from the extensive use of the Cruciatus curse had gotten worse, and she couldn't heal the scared tissue of her arm and neck. Hermione no longer found joy in reading, instead opting to watch the outside world from her bedroom window. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. She was plague with nightmares and hallucinations.

Hermione Granger was broken and she didn't know how to fix herself.

During her time holed away in Grimmauld Place, Hermione tried to research ways of reversing the memory charm on her parents. She came up with a few loose ends, but one theory seemed plausible and she couldn't wait to fly to Australia to test her theory and finally have her parents back.

The issue there was, her parents no longer lived in Australia.

Sometime during the war, her parents had decided that Australia wasn't quite right for them and decided to move to some little town in Washington, USA. It baffled Hermione once she had eventually been able to track down the whereabouts of Monica and Wendell Wilkins but was secretly thrilled. Moving to America had been something that her parents had talked about since before Hermione had found out that she was a witch. If an ideology like that was able to filter through the memory charms, there surely should be hope for a full recovery for her parents.

Hermione had also found a hobby in tracing back her family tree. She'd taken the inspiration from the Black Family Tapestry that was on the floor below her. All her life, Hermione didn't know about the extended members of her family and found that once she started researching her family history, she couldn't stop. She had been able to trace back her mother's side of the family by at least four hundred years. One of her great-great-great-etc Grandfathers was even a witch hunter.

Imagine if he found out that four hundred years later, his great-whatever granddaughter was a witch. Hermione imagined him rolling in his grave, wherever he was buried.

Being a Witch Hunter seemed to be a popular career choice for several of her family members in that time. There seemed to be three generations of Witch Hunters in the Cullen family, before her great-whatever grandfather, Carlisle Cullen, decided that he wanted to do something less exciting and decided to settle down to have a family.

Sadly the change of career was not meant to be for he had died in 1663 when he was only twenty-three years old, and her great-whatever Grandmother was pregnant with his son without being able to tell him. It was tragic, really.

It was during this investigation into her family history where Hermione found that some Cullen's were still alive, presumably distant cousins of hers, and lived not far from her parents.

It was purely coincidental, but Hermione needed to check it out. She would be thrilled at the knowledge of not only having her parents back, but some long-lost cousins. She had always wanted a bigger family, and now was her chance.

Leaving for America would also give Hermione a chance to heal from the battle in a way that she struggled to do here. She could still see the battleground when she shut her eyes, see her classmates falling to their death by Killing Curse after Killing Curse.

She could still see the crazed look in Bellatrix's eye as she tortured her on the marble floor in Malfoy Manor.

Hermione needed to get away, desperately. She didn't know what she wanted to do with her life now that the Lord Voldemort saga had ended. What she did know, was that she needed her parents back and needed to be the Hermione she was before everything happened. She wanted to read for pleasure again, not just as a way to keep the nightmares away.

There was hope that it could happen in America. Perhaps after it was all said and done with her parents, she would be able to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. There was always a want of becoming a Healer and working in St Mungo's. Maybe there would be a way of her fulfilling that wish without having to return to Hogwarts and completing her NEWTs.

It was too soon for her to return to Hogwarts, and Minerva understood.

"Hermione wouldn't be doing this if she didn't know what she was doing." Harry said quietly. He was still frowning at a mark on her floor. When Hermione told the boys that she was leaving a few weeks ago, Harry took the news the hardest out of the boys but ultimately understood that it was what she needed to do. Besides, she would still be able to owl and floo whenever she wanted to visit.

Ron was clearly still in denial of it all.

"I know, but I just don't understand why she needs to go now. Why now? Why not once you've gotten your NEWTs?"

Hermione released a slow breath and returned to her packing. It was becoming the same argument between them since she told them of her plans. She could tell that Harry was getting bored of explaining her reasoning to him. Hermione had gotten bored long ago.

All of her belongings had been packed and shrunk into her trusty beaded bag a few days ago. She was due to leave for the airport in an hour and still had some last-minute shopping that she needed to pack. While it was August, the weather where she was going wasn't going to be nice. She had been told to expect a similar, if not colder, climate to Scotland and decided to pack appropriately.

"I can't go back there, Ron. I've told you this so many times already." Hermione told him as she folded another jumper into her suitcase. This time it was a homemade jumper from Mrs Weasley in a rich scarlet colour. A Golden H was knitted onto the front. She had been given it by the Weasley Matriarch not long after the battle of Hogwarts, as well as some socks and hats. Molly had clearly taken to knitting to deal with her grief. "I'm taking some time to get myself better after everything. I've found my parents, I'm going to try and get their memories back and then see where I go from there."

"But what about us?" Ron asked indignantly. The red on his neck was slowly starting to creep up his face in his anger.

"What about us, Ron?" Hermione sighed. She paused as she put her last item of clothing in the suitcase. She fiddled with the zipper. "Like you said to me after the battle. It was a mistake. I agreed. We're not good for each other."

"But you don't even want to try! You're just trying to run away like a coward."

"Don't you dare call me a coward, Ronald Weasley." Hermione hissed at him quietly. Her hands tightened their hold on the lid of the suitcase as she slammed it closed. "Don't you dare. I don't know what's gotten into you recently, but I don't like it. I'm leaving in under an hour and you're going to bloody well like it. You need to be an Auror after everything we've just been through? Fine. Be my guest. But don't try to guilt me into staying when I need to do something for myself for once."

Harry rushed towards Hermione when he saw the tears running down her face. In a move completely unlike him, he grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. It took Hermione a second before her shoulders dropped and she clung onto Harry just as tightly. She sobbed into his chest, the emotions she had been bottling up for the last year finally pushing her to breaking point. He knew that Hermione needed this, needed to get away even if it was just for a little bit.

After everything that she had done for him, he couldn't deny her that.

Harry couldn't deny her anything.

Another pair of arms wound their way around Harry and Hermione, followed by quiet apologies from their hot-headed friend. Hermione relished in the feel of her boys around her, holding her and comforting her as she cried. She didn't know the next time she would see them or hold them and tried to commit their touch to memory.

It wasn't long after, once their tears were spent and they had cried themselves into exhaustion, when Hermione shrunk down her final suitcase and stowed it away into her beaded bag.

"Be good." Hermione told her boys, a soft smile on her face. She was sure she looked a state, with her eyes bloodshot and cheeks pink, but she didn't really care.

"Don't get into trouble." Harry smirked lightly at her

Hermione laughed quietly, putting the bag over her shoulder.

"As if I could get into trouble without you there."

oOoOoOo

"Carlisle!"

Alice Cullen flung open the front door to the Cullen House in Forks, Washington. She was flanked by Jasper Hale and Edward Cullen, but they entered the home with a bit more decorum than the pixie-haired beauty. She stopped in the foyer and listened to the sounds in the house, trying to pinpoint the location of her adopted father. She should have known he would be in his office.

With a little more grace, Alice made her way to Carlisle's haven and knocked on the door before she entered, mostly out of respect. He knew that she was coming, his laptop already closed and his attention on the door.

"Alice. Is everything okay?" Carlisle watched with furrowed brows as Alice stood in front of her desk and worried her fingers. This was not like her, and he was only a little bit concerned. "What have you seen?"

"Someone's coming." Alice told him after a moment's hesitation. "Someone really important."

She could feel the rest of the Cullen Clan behind her, Esme and Rosalie joining the boys in the doorway. Esme pushed herself through her adopted children and stood beside Alice. She looked between her daughter and her husband, confusion on her face.

"Who's coming Alice?" Esme asked, a hand on Alice's shoulder comfortingly.

"Carlisle's Granddaughter."