A/N: I'm back. I know some of you are aching for longer chapters, and I'll try but I spend a lot of time doing school work because I'm a nerd.

Warnings: The usual. Check previous chapters.

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed since last week. Still don't own Twilight or Harry Potter.

EDIT:::10

Harry walked up to the large reddish truck and forced an awkward smile at Bella through the glass, before clambering inside.

"Hi." He murmured, discomfort showing clearly on his face.

"Hi." Bella responded, looking just as uncomfortable as he did. She started the engine, waiting for the deafening roar to subside, before making her way out of the parking lot. "Is...um, is there something wrong?" She asked.

Harry turned to look at her, surprised at her perceptiveness. "No. It's just...no. It's nothing."

A dubious look from Bella left him wanting to smack himself, but before he could do so Bella brought an end to the discussion with an agreeable; "okay."

The word was pumped full of curiosity, the desire for answers, and Harry appreciated the fact that she wasn't going to badger him about receiving them. And, he thought morbidly, he couldn't risk getting her involved in...whatever this situation was.

The car settled back into a silence. Harry was tempted to leave it as such, but soon the silence became too much to bear.

"You, um..." Harry hesitated, "You wouldn't happen to know of any paths, would you?"

Bella looked a little put off by the question; "Like, for walking?"

Harry nodded, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks as he effectively made a fool of himself.

"I think there are a few just behind the house."

"Right," Harry murmured, nodding to himself. A plan was already formulating in his head. "Thank you."

"Yeah."

The truck was once again filled with thick silence, that only lessened in awkwardness when Bella's home came into view.

The car stopped in the driveway with a pathetic groan, and Harry, tense with nerves, jumped out almost before Bella took her hands of the wheel. He flushed when he caught her incredulous look. "S-sorry," he murmured, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "I'm going to go for a walk, okay?"

She shrugged in response, and pulled her backpack out of the car. "You should probably put your bag inside first." She said, a hint of a smirk playing at the edges of her lips.

"Right, yeah..."Harry trailed off awkwardly, cursing himself for making such a scene getting out of the car. He grabbed his backpack and carefully shut the card door before following Bella inside. Charlie wasn't home yet, and Bella had somehow managed to get far enough ahead of him to be out of his line of sight by the time he reached the kitchen. He glanced around, examining the kitchen as he had the first day he arrived, taking in details he had missed while setting his backpack on the table.

He wondered, briefly, if he should inform Bella that he was going out now, before deciding against it. He thought, rather wryly, that he had made it abundantly clear that he planned on leaving when he'd exited the car.

He patted his hip, making sure his wand was still firmly tucked into his pants, before exiting the Swan home and walking towards the woods with a leisurely, but purposeful pace. He didn't have to walk far before the hard concrete turned into soft dirt and wet leaves. The woods behind the house was littered with trails, whether they were man-made or the work of deer and other woodland creatures. Harry chose one of the more traveled paths, and let himself relax as the moist air and light wind cooled his face. The occasional chirp from an indignant bird tore him from his relatively tranquil state, but he didn't find it hard to fall back into it. Perhaps because allowing himself to be relaxed was so much easier than acknowledging that he needed a plan to deal with XJ, to deal with the Cullens, to deal with Edward.

Harry estimated that he'd walked for about twenty minutes along the trail when he decided he was far enough away from well, anything, really, that he could practice his magic without risk of exposure. He took a quick detour through one of the side trails, sending weak cutting curses at the trees as he went so as to mark his path, before finding himself in a small clearing.

He tucked his wand back into his pocket, deciding that a wandless cutting curse was just as good a place to start as any, and looked for a tree he could practice with.

The thought of cutting into the tree brought back the image of Neville in the green house at Hogwarts. He though of how disgruntled Neville would be if he knew what Harry was doing. But Neville didn't know what he was doing. In fact, Neville didn't even know where Harry was. Nobody, aside from a few of the Weasley's and Hermione had any idea where he was. And even then, they weren't allowed to contact him.

Harry could feel his temper starting to rise at the ridiculousness, the unfairness of the situation. He roughly ran a hand through his hair, and bit his bottom lip to calm down the bubbling anger in his stomach and the fluttering panic in his chest.

He was alone. He had Bella and he had Charlie and he was completely alone.

And all of a sudden a blur of images started overwhelming his mind, bringing with them a pounding headache. He saw himself, dying at the hands of Voldemort only to be brought back. He saw the soft silver strand of Mrs. Malfoy's hair as she bent down, lying "he's dead," to protect him. He saw red, pools of thick red liquid pooling around the corpses of a first year Slytherin and a fourth year Hufflepuff. He saw the place he first considered his home destroyed and tainted red and metallic with the legacy of war. He saw death.

Harry shook his head, trying to dislodge the nightmarish images with limited success. He wheezed in a breath, and then a few more, before calming down. At some point he had fallen to his knees, and the wet earth had soaked the fabric of his jeans.

A drying curse would have worked, but Harry didn't bother. Still feeling weak from what Hermione had told him was a panic attack, he raised himself to his feet and leaned back against the tree opposite of the one he was going to be aiming at.

He gave himself a few more minutes to calm down before lifting his hand and raising it towards the tree. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the magic were a tangible thing inside of him, lurking in his veins like blood, something he could locate. But finding and isolating the magic was difficult, even more so now that his mind was exhausted from his episode. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the slight thrumming that he felt in his chest cavity, tried to isolate that thrumming feeling and push it out towards the tips of his fingers. Nothing happened for a few moments, but eventually the gratifying, and slightly ticklish feeling of the magic moving from his core to his fingers alerted him to the fact that he could very well get it right this time. He kept his eyes closed as he visualized what he wanted to happen - he visualized the soft yellow of the spell penetrating the tree, splintering it from the inside out, and causing it to fall.

When his mind released the image he had of the damage he wished to inflict, his core released its restraint on the magic bubbling at his finger tips magic. He heard the impact, a satisfying crunching sounds, but when he looked at what he had done he found that he had not done any more damage than one blow of an axe.

He groaned and tried to focus in on the feeling again. He caught it and followed the same process he had the previous time, but the result was the same.

He huffed in frustration, wanting to yell but having managed to acquire enough self control over his years training for war that he knew better.

Irritated, he tried again. He tried to go slowly, to take his time and focus, but before he knew it he'd been out in the clearing for over an hour and had not achieved more than the equivalent of two blows from an axe.

He was disappointed, but allowed himself to feel some pride at the improvement, before heading back to the trail.

Except, somewhere along the way, he must have walked right threw the main trail because, as he glanced up at the trees, he saw no evidence of any cutting curses. He pushed down the creeping feeling of anxiety building up just below his throat, and allowed himself a few deep breaths.

The sky was getting dark, and the clouds were even darker. The warmth of the sun was going away, leaving Harry with air cold enough to allow white puffs every time he exhaled.

Deciding his best bet was to try and retrace his steps, he headed back the way he came. Unfortunately, the path he was currently on was much like the one that led him to the clearing - it was an animal path, and aside from the light matting of leaves where they had been stepped on, there was little to distinguish it from the forest floor. Especially in the quickly dimming light.

Harry, in spite of his honest effort, found that back tracking wasn't doing nearly as much good as he had hoped, so, in a last ditch effort he pulled out his wand and cast as point-me spell. Nothing happened except for a sharp pain in his chest. He grumbled, knowing he'd pushed his magical core's limits with the wandless magic practice.

He remembered when he had first started training in the Dumbledore's Army, Hermione had informed him that his core must be huge because "on average, a well-trained wizard can only perform wandless magic continuously for approximately 15 to 20 minutes due to the additional exertion the wizard must face should he or she wish to control where their spell goes." Ron had called her a know-it-all, and they had all laughed.

Harry wasn't surprised to find himself smiling, but he quickly wiped the look off his face, not wanting to make being away from them more painful than it had to be. Already was.

He walked aimlessly for a few more minutes, before allowing the anxiety that had been threatening to consume him take over his body. He slouched against a giant tree, curling in on himself even as the water from the wet, fallen leaves soaked into his clothing.

The sky was completely black now, and if not for the moon, Harry would be completely enveloped in darkness. He had never been particularly scared of the dark, but he took comfort in knowing that he could probably cast a weak lumos if he needed to. Unfortunately, he knew light would do little if he couldn't figure out where he was going.

He cursed himself for not marking all the trees he passed, instead of just those on the the off-shoot trail he took to find a secluded place to practice.

He groaned, and was about to let out a string of self-deprecating expletives when a sound made him stop. His blood ran cold as he listened to the faint rustling and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He pulled out his wand and tried to remain as quiet as he could as he slowly lifted himself from the ground.

"Hello, Harry." A voice, as cold and sharp as steel, murmured, somehow loud and quiet at the same time.

Harry whipped around, adrenaline pumping in his veins as he located the source of the voice and pointed his wand. He summoned a lumos charm, and took in the slim, masculine frame on the other side of the trail.

"XJ." It was a guess, but only just. The thick British accent gave him away.

"Indeed."

Harry stiffened as the man walked forward, and moved to step back but the tree behind him gave him little relief. The blood in his veins was burning with adrenaline and cold with nerves at the same time.

By the time the man reached the lighted area surrounding the lumos charm, Harry could make out almost translucent red eyes, and skin paler than that of any of the Cullens. The man's hair was a dark silver color, cut to just below his jawline in neat layers. He was dressed in muggle clothing, but of the high end sort. He shoes were nice, shiny black ones, and though he was wearing only a t-shirt, it was made of what Harry could only assume was silk, or some other soft fabric. His slacks were also black, but were pressed and obviously made for him.

"Although I hear you are going by Hadrian nowadays." It wasn't a question.

"What..." Harry's heart was thumping wildly, as he bit out his question. "...Are you a wizard?"

"No. I'm not even human."

Harry waited for the man to elaborate, or say something, but when he didn't Harry, in spite of his nervousness, asked instead, "What are you?"

"I'm a krusnik." The man said the word with pride, and almost looked to be preening.

Harry vaguely remembered learning about them in Defense Against the Dark Arts in his third year, but Professor Lupin had all but guaranteed them that they would never run into one. In the feud between vampires and werewolves, the populations of both creatures had dwindled rapidly, and krusniks were finding it harder and harder to feed.

"Is that why you want to kill the Cullens?" Harry asked, fear being replaced by a mix if incredulity, repulsion and confusion. "You want to eat them?"

"It sounds so awful when you say it like that," the man said, tossing his silver hair out the way, before stalking closer to Harry. " So have you thought about my offer?"

"Obviously." Harry snapped, before he realized what had come out of his mouth. Logically, he knew it was not wise to anger a potentially dangerous creature with snarky retorts, especially when his core was so weak, but he couldn't help himself. He'd spent hours and hours agonizing over what to do with the knowledge in the letter he had received. "It was very intriguing, really, and by that I mean ominous."

He nearly slapped himself, when he saw XJ's face darken.

"I did not mean for you to become distressed. I just wished for my offer to be known."

Harry stayed silent, unsure of how to respond to the man, the murderer, in front of him.

"Your decision?" XJ prodded, taking a step backward, as if giving Harry space might speed up the process.

"That depends on what you'd do if I said no." Harry finally responded. He knew he'd never agree, and thought XJ probably did too, so finding out what to expect didn't seem like a horrible idea.

"I'll give you a few more days to decide," The taller man said, ignoring Harry's question with a small, knowing smile.

"But what if I say no?" Harry pushed, feeling slightly more confident due to the fact that the man had yet to act violently.

"I guess you'll find out in a few days." The krusnik smirked. "Your house is that way, by the way."

Harry looked in the general direction of the creature's hand and was happy, but chagrined to see that he could just make out the roof of the house he had passed on his way in to the woods.

"Thanks," he grumbled, turning to look at the silver-haired man, only to see that XJ had disappeared. Not even footprints were left to evidence the fact that he had been there.

Harry heaved a sigh and once again questioned why it was that trouble always seemed to find him. With a final shove off of the tree, he made his way out of the woods.

He was on the Swan property in under 15 minutes, and was just about to slink upstairs when he was stopped in his tracks by an upset Charlie Swan.

"Where were you?" Charlie asked, walking towards the kitchen table, obviously expecting Harry to follow him.

"Out." Harry paused, realizing that sounded rude, before stammering awkwardly, "I mean, I was in the woods. Outside."

"Bella told me you left just after you two got home from school. It's a quarter to eight." Charlie said. The man's voice betrayed nothing, but Harry knew he was going to have to explain.

"In my old school, um," Harry stammered, suddenly having second thoughts on sharing something personal. He heaved a breath and decided to share anyway. "I used to get stressed and walk around campus. I thought maybe if I took a walk I would be able to relax. I'm sorry I got back so late, I got lost."

When Harry was training privately he'd learned that the best way to lie was to tell the truth. Just not the truth they were looking for.

"Right." Charlie said gruffly. "Well, be more careful next time. And get yourself something to eat. I've got work."

Harry didn't bother dragging on the conversation by assuring Charlie that he'd be more careful or by saying he wasn't hungry. Instead he waited for the man to leave before trudging upstairs to his room.

"Hey Bella," He said as he walked passed her room. In return he got a muffled response that he couldn't quite make out. He smiled slightly, the unintelligible noise reminding him a lot of Ron in the mornings at Hogwarts.

He opened the door to his bedroom, wincing slightly at the shrill squeak of rusty joints, and put his book bag on the desk. He contemplated taking a shower for a few minutes before deciding to deal with it in the morning. He was cold and really did not fancy going to bed wet.

With a groan, Harry flopped himself into his desk and pulled open his book bag to get started on homework that, for once, he was grateful for. It meant he had to focus on things besides the Cullens, or Edward or XJ.