Harry stood motionless as the strange and beautiful man slowly circled around to face him. Carlisle's movements were meticulously planned, every muscle aching to spring. To Harry, his body was perfect, flawless and statuesque, his skin as smooth as porcelain, but clearly not as easily breakable. The area that entranced Harry the most was the vampire's honey coloured eyes; those weary, aged eyes.

"Well, that was either the corniest introduction ever, or an excellent one. I am certainly intrigued as to which it would be."

Harry tried to sound nonchalant, but his nerves broke with every word, he could feel the vampire closing in, feel his cool skin so close to him. However, even Harry could see that there was a clear space, a gulf, between the two of them. He swallowed, not fooling anyone.

In the textbooks at Hogwarts, Vampire's were soulless creatures incapable of true emotional depth due to their overwhelming desire to hunt and kill for the blood they drank. Their eyes were black, their beauty devastating. Harry could not help with agreeing that Carlisle's beauty was beyond reproof, but the eyes. Harry could not agree with soulless simply because he could see, deep in the golden eyes, the faintest glimpse of a tangible human soul. Harry looked away after realising he was starring without blinking at the creature before him. The silence was broken when, in a voice like velvet, Carlisle spoke, barely in a whisper.

"I have been looking for you, Harry. Now that I have found you, the question I ask myself is… why? Why am I drawn to you, Harry Potter? What is it about you that makes me want to seek you out?"

The hunter snarled and curled his lips into a dangerous smile, only a hint of glistening white teeth beneath. Harry, for a reason he could not quite believe, bit the corner of his bottom lip, letting it slide between his teeth. Whatever reason it was that had brought them together, Harry hoped it was a good reason, for at that moment in time he felt truly awakened and alive, his blood running frantically round his body, making him burn with desire. Then he caught a whiff, a scent of the breeze like expensive, rare cologne. It was radiating from the man before him who, while Harry stood teasing his bottom lip, had stood still and examined every inch of Harry's body with his eyes.

"Perhaps it is my blood you thirst for?"

Carlisle looked taken aback, how did this man know he was a vampire. Maybe his eyes were giving him away, or perhaps this man was more than simply magical. Carlisle furrowed his brow. If this man was a wizard, then that meant there was still a thriving population somewhere. That meant also that the news that crossed the Atlantic about the freak weather and missing people had not been the coincidences Carlisle had imagined. He slipped silently into a memory of the family, Alice and Jasper sitting on the floor, Edward on the phone to Bella, Esme... Carlisle skipped over Esme's face, thinking about her made him ache with the time that passed in her absence. The family had been watching the news when a strange story had come on the screen, there had been strange mists and freak lightening storms, people going missing and horrible clips of the houses where men, women and children had being murdered in their beds mysteriously, no sign of breaking and entering or any sign of blood loss. Most of all, there were no fingerprints for the murders, no signs for the weather, no explanation for the strange mists. Pictures of London in thick clouds of fog sprung to mind, with small ant like people walking to work in the morning, scrunched into their coats to protect them from the cold.

Regaining composure Carlisle smiled at Harry.

"No, it isn't that."

Harry pulled a face, making Carlisle let out a crisp laugh. He began to walk slowly around Harry, circling like a hunter before they pounced on the prey.

The hunter's unflinching stare made Harry want to look away, but he knew if he did, he might lose the little power over the meeting that he possessed, giving himself fully to the vampire. He needed to keep on his toes, to be alert. One false move, one wrong muscle spasm, and he could fall into a trap he would never be able to escape. All Harry knew about the strange, beautiful man before him was that, if asked, he could never deny Carlisle.

"Well if it isn't my blood, or… well then, it must be something else…Something stronger…"

Harry now starred straight into the flashing, golden eyes of Carlisle, whose face was stoic. Clearly, Harry had simply confused the matter further.

"Well," Carlisle mused, a half-cocked smile spreading across his thin lips, "You must have been the brightest at your school, Captain Obvious."

Harry held back the rouge of embarrassment that flushed his cheeks; however, the vampire, whose lips broke to reveal a row of perfectly set white teeth, must have sensed the flutter in Harry's heart. Harry mischievously smiled back, what else could he do, there was no quick get away, and for some reason he did not feel disparating would do any good, this man knew his scent. Harry knew that, as a wizard, he could easily get away, but as an Englishman, he could only think of one thing to do.

"Well, Carlisle Cullen, I am pleased to meet you."

Harry held out his hand in a gesture, which made Carlisle's hunter tense, what was he doing?

"Shake hands?"

Carlisle broke free of the hunter for a moment and, taking Harry's hand, he firmly shook it, squeezing lightly on the soft, human flesh between his fingers. A handshake? What was going on here? Carlisle's conscience broke free from the hunter's struggle and began screaming for him to leave. Now. Before anything happened. What was Carlisle doing searching out this wizard in the middle of London? What was he doing away from the coven in the first place? He should be backing Forks waiting for Renesme, Esme and Bella to return! Before he could stop himself, a single word had escaped involuntarily from his lips, one he had been trying to suppress.

"Esme…" he whispered, looking into Harry's open green eyes. He could see her, her face, pale and warm, ethereal and enclosed behind Harry's eyes.

"Esme? Who is that?"

Harry looked confused and tried to release himself from the handshake but Carlisle was still gripping his hand, beginning the crush the brittle, human fingers in his immortal grasp. Harry yelped and suddenly Carlisle came to his senses, quickly dropping the hand from his.

Harry ignored the pain in his hand, the old carved wound stinging under the now healed skin. It had been a long time since Delores Umbridge's quill had carved the cryptic I must not tell lies into the flesh there, he never forgot that night, the detention, the horridly pink office lined with little mewing portraits of kittens.

"I think we need to go somewhere a lot more private than here and talk, don't you?"

Both Harry and Carlisle could not quite fathom who had said it, but within moments Harry had followed Carlisle through the throng of people in Tottenham Court Road, past the shining Freddie Mercury, past the lights and glamour of London as night falls and the animals come out to play on the streets. Carlisle opened the door for Harry and then climbed in himself. Both sat quietly in the car and waited patiently for either to give direction to somewhere only they knew.

"My place or yours?"

Harry grinned, his impish eyes finally resting on Carlisle's face. This was going to be a brand new adventure. He definitely had not expected that when Draco had called this morning. Nevertheless, and Harry knew his all too well, whenever he took a chance on something as weird and dangerous and this, as getting into a car with a known killer, it seemed to always work itself out in the end. What could possibly go wrong?

Carlisle smiled, but did not look at Harry. His mind was still arguing with itself and, at times like these, it was important to block the madness out and try to focus on the matter at hand. Harry Potter, this alluring mortal, was calling for Carlisle's help and Carlisle, the incredible immortal, was aching to help him. There was only one place that Carlisle's free thinking mind could think of that would be safest for both men to be at this time of night. So, without answering Harry's stare, he clicked the key in the ignition and, with many expletives from the seat-beltless man beside him at the shock of speed, zoomed off into the night.