Note:This Chapter is also in line with the Twilight's First Chapter. I loved the way Bella & Edward first met and I didn't wish to change it.

Thanks to everyone who Followed/Favorited this Story. :)

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Twilight, but I would have loved to!

Bella's POV

The next day I woke up early. It was so cold and way too tempting to conjure Bluebell Flames to keep myself warm. I had a quiet breakfast with Charlie and he took off to the Police Station after wishing me Good Luck. I put on my jacket and made my way to the truck. It was still drizzling. Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume.

Finding the school wasn't difficult as it was just off the highway. I parked in front of the first building. I collected the schedule and a map of the school from the front office. The schedule made me nervous.

English, Fair enough! But Biology, Government, Trigonometry. I haven't studied these stuff for four years. And have possibly forgotten all that I have studied till then. I maybe a nerd but remembering those stuff now would be like magic. Ah, wish I could use magic and get away with these classes. Else my grades would drop. Gosh, Bella relax. This is summer school. You don't need to worry about grades. You are here only because you didn't want to be alone at Charlie's. I pushed away my thoughts. I have been speaking to myself a lot lately. I would have been with Emily if she wasn't vacationing with her family to Egypt. Not that her family didn't want me with them. They asked me to spend the summer with them when I told Emily about having to stay at Forks. But like I wanted my Mom to spend time with Phil, I wanted Emily to spend time with her family. In two months we'll be at Hogwarts again. I even considered staying back at Hogwarts. But no one stays at Hogwarts for Summer holidays. It would be worse than Forks.

I went back out to my truck and drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

I looked at the map in the truck, and memorized it. I had no intentions of walking around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me. I am a witch for God's sake. I will hex anyone who bothers me. Yeah right, and get expelled from Hogwarts and stay at Forks forever. I shuddered at that possibility and felt happy that I left my wand at home. You know, you don't need a wand to do magic.

Okay, I need to stop taking to myself, I told myself. I sighed as I made my way to English. I quickly found the classroom and approached the door. The classroom was small. I took a slip that I needed to get signed, to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He signed it and sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me which was fairly basic. I'd already read everything. That was comforting… and boring. I wasn't paying much attention and finally the bell rang.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" I looked up to see a boy with black hair.

"Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check in my bag."Um, Government, with Jefferson , in building six."

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way…"Definitely over-helpful. "I'm Eric," he added.

I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid. We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him vaguely and went inside. The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat. I felt stupid to have enrolled for these classes, when I would have done something much more useful like nothing. I felt like I got lost into some High school TV episode.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up. I would be out of this town before I get a chance to even speak to all these people. We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she told them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't staring at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big - muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. She somehow reminded me of Fleur Delacour though her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixie like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale and had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes - purplish, bruise-like shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.

But all this is not why I couldn't look away. I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

They were all looking away - away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray - unopened soda, unbitten apple - and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten.

As she looked up to see who I meant suddenly he looked at her, the thinner boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine. He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest - it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. But maybe that's how they named children here. I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name.

"They are… very nice-looking." I said.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though - Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice , I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related…"

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins - the blondes - and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice - for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness.

Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska ."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me and had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful - even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.

Angela one of Jessica's friends, had Biology with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. The teacher sent me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face - it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I'd noticed that his eyes were black - coal black. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me.

I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

The lecture was on cellular anatomy. I remembered studying basics of it when I was Eleven. I took notes carefully, always looking down. I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. The moment the bell rang loudly Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose his back to me and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. I have never felt the need to hex someone so badly. Not even Malfoy. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, I usually cried when I was angry.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way.

"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled.

We walked to the class together. As we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation. I was completely unfocused throughout the class.

The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. When I walked in, I saw Edward Cullen standing at the desk in front of me. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free. He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time - any other time.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again and a girl came in, stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I stepped to the desk and handed her the signed slip. When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. I sat inside for a while, just staring out blankly. But soon I was cold enough and headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there. No one has ever treated me like that. Not even bloody Slytherins. I wanted to rip him and for a moment I thought about using the Cruciatus on him. But this isn't me. One day at Forks, and I wanted to use an Unforgivable curve. Something is wrong with him. I won't leave Forks until I find out his secret, I told myself.