Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling. Also Twilight and all characters places et al. are owned by Stephenie Meyer

A/N: Aaaand another chapter :) Now that my life is a bit calming down again, I find myself starting to like writing again. I hope to keep it up. So if you like it, review. And if you find errors, tell me so, I know they have hidden themselves somewhere ;)

Chapter 23: Closer

The smell of blood and gore was almost overpowering. Kevin Ulan managed to quell his rising urge to throw up, but his assistant wasn't so lucky. Kevin just heard him retching outside the small house in the outskirts of Newark. Kevin had to admit that the burnt victims so far were far better, at least for his nose.

But this crime scene… After the initial shock of smell, he looked around. It was a small house with nothing special to it. If he didn't know, he'd never suspected a witch to live here. She even had a computer and television. He looked at the scroll he got from Jennifer DeLaine and it confirmed his suspicion. She had been born to Muggle parents and had had a connection to the Muggle world. From what Ulan had seen, the magical community in the USA was less blasé about Muggles and the world around them. But then again, it was to be expected, when wizards flee from religious (and other) persecutions. In a way, it was refreshing to not have to deal with all the rubbish going on at home. Because even though they've been through a war, lost countless people and they were shown the errors of their ways, there still were people harbouring the stupid pure blood ideology that started this whole mess. His guess was that after a few decades that old cancer would start growing again and there would be Voldemort 2.0 rearing his butt-ugly mug. But hopefully, he would be far, far away then when it happened. His idealism didn't cover more than one war such as the last one.

"Ulan?" Jennifer's voice ripped him out of his thoughts, and he focused again on the present. "The victim is over here," she said and gestured for him to come closer.

He gulped. Not much was left of Sarah Mantow's face, which had been a beautiful one back when she was still living. Now, it looked like someone had had his share of sadistic fun with a kitchen mallet lying in a small puddle of blood next to her. Her feet were still fixed to the ground with two rusty iron bars, as was her left hand. Her right hand was contracted into a fist, albeit missing at least one finger from what he could see.

"Merlin…" he whispered. "He seems to get more and more brutal."

"You think so?" Jennifer asked him, "I read the reports, of course, but you were on the spot."

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "in the other cases all that was usually left were mere human-shaped heaps of ash after the perpetrator set everything on fire. Still, you could see the important parts. This mallet here," he pointed to it, "is a new twist."

"He did try to set the house on fire," Jennifer mentioned, "but the fire protection spell prevented it. He didn't seem to have the magical mojo to crack it."

"Or the mental stability…" Ulan mused. "If this is the same guy – and I bet you good money that he is, given the way it looks – then he's probably so far gone it's a miracle he hasn't blown himself up yet with his wand."

"Now that would be a sight to see," Jennifer chuckled. Clearly, her sense of humour ventured onto the dark side of things...

"Burke mentioned something of a note, no?" Ulan changed subject.

"Yes," Jennifer nodded and waved her wand quickly. A paper scroll hovered towards them from a small table to her left and kept it hovering in place. It was slightly singed and it had a few burnt holes in it. But still enough was readable that Ulan could confirm that it seemed to be a list of all Wizards sent to the USA after the war – and a quite extensive list at that.

"Aye," he nodded. "I recognise some of the names. Never thought that so many big names fled here, though. I guess just picking the most obvious target of our attacker is not quite so easy… It should keep us busy for the next days to come…"

"You don't mean – " his assistant sighed.

"I do indeed," Kevin smiled thinly. "We have to check each and every one of them. Maybe they heard something. Saw something. Or are dead already, which would give us additional leads."

"I guess I will let you handle this," Jennifer joined in. "It is your people, after all. And I still don't completely get your little turf war back in the UK. Might say something stupid," she grinned. "When you finished here, let's get back to the stable and start owling people."

Ulan looked around a bit longer and used some spells to try and find more about the attacker, but nothing got him good results. He saw Jennifer looking slightly annoyed at him, clearly thinking that doing all that a second time won't bring different results. Still, he had to try it himself. A single missed lead could lead to the death of another person, and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself should that happen again.

Edward was standing just outside the class room, maybe ten meters away from Draco, chatting with the coach.

Draco sighed heavily. He had had it with Edward and Bella. Edward's angsting about her was getting on his nerves. He had discussed it with Jasper, but still he couldn't quite grasp how an immortal being such as him could behave so childish and thick-headed. He knew they liked each other, they knew they had the hots for each other – hell, it was hard to find someone who didn't know – still they played their little game. After Draco had come almost forcefully to terms with his feelings for Jasper and finally wanting to get the old Edward back, he developed a plan.

"This will never work," Jasper had said the other night, when he explained his idea to him. "I know Ed for a long, long time, and you can't just flip a switch and he's all normal."

Draco twirled a strand of Jasper's hair in his fingers as he was lying on his chest and chuckled. "I am sure it will. It is just some mild magic and will work."
"You can't make people fall in love, my dear," Jasper perched his head slightly up and looked at him, "that should be immoral, even in your Wizarding world."

"Well," Draco answered after a few seconds, "true love is something illusive, even for magic, but I am not talking about love. They are already in love, annoyingly so in my not so humble opinion," Draco snorted. "It will just make him lose certain…inhibitions and see the whole affair more rationally. It is for the better. For all of us…" Draco turned his head up and looked at Jasper. "Or how much of this emo angsting can you keep up with, Oh Reader of Emotions?"

Jasper chuckled wryly. "Not much more, I give you that. He was always a bit brooding, but this…" He sighed. "Ok then, we do it, but if he should ever find out, he will be pissed."

"Oh poo," Draco sniffed. "Just keep your thoughts closed about this subject, like I showed you. And once it's done, we all will be happier."

So now, here he was, standing out of sight in that school corridor, his wand carefully hidden from view, casting the little spell and letting it go. It passed over Edward like a soft whisper and in that instant, his brooding face relaxed a bit and he actually started smiling. Now let's hope it works…

Just as he was about to leave a heavy thud took him by surprise, as a huge human-shaped form of clothes slammed into the wall next to him. The guy seemed awfully familiar, and then it hit him. Peter Mills, the Annoying Jock from Hell. Draco had thought that he was humbled enough by his constant string of…bad luck he had suffered the last weeks.

"You leave me the fuck alone!" he heard the familiar voice of Seth snarl. Looking around, he saw an enraged Seth, barely contained by the words of Alice (and her hands gripping his hand ever so slightly).

Now that first day of school went well, Draco observed dryly.

"You little asswipe," Mills shot back once he managed to get back on his feet and glared at Seth. "You will pay for that!"

He started to move lumberingly forward, when the booming voice of the coach hit him almost physically. "Mills! You stop right now!" For an old man the coach was astonishingly quick, Draco observed, as he had managed to get from where he was standing with Edward to here in a few seconds.

"But coach," Mills whined – whining seemed to be his favourite speech pattern, after shouting, of course – "That little LaPush punk here tried to hit me!" Mills tried to lie, which epically failed.

"Given your records, Mills, I don't believe one second that his young man here," he nodded at Seth, "would do anything so stupid. Isn't that right?" he asked Seth.

"No, coach," Seth answered, his rage still burning hot on his face. "He just called me names, that I'm just some fuck toy of Alice here, and I am unworthy of this school." He hissed. "And stuff," adding innocently.
The coach looked closely at Seth, scanning him almost millimetre by millimetre. "Mills, get lost," he finally said, coming towards Seth. Mills tried to say more, but amazingly even he realised he was running out of options and stormed away.

"Now then," the coach said to Seth, "you seem awfully strong for someone your size."

Seth nodded. "I, uh, train a lot, sir."

"And are you a quick runner?" The coach continued asking. "

"I think so, yes, sir." He nodded warily.

"As it so happens, I need to fill a position in the team, and you look like prime material! Care to join the training for a session?"

"Uh, um, yes sir?" Seth nodded again, then sobering slightly. "But Mills-"?

"I don't care, son." He smiled amiably. "I am the coach, after all."