It was with no small amount of grumbling that Harry awoke on Saturday morning. Savouring the feeling of comfort his enormous bed provided, he stared up at the ceiling with a frown on his face.

"What have I gotten myself into?" He asked himself. A soft, consoling hoot from his window sill was the response. Artemis, as he had named her, had returned from hunting.

Ever since he had shut the door on Chief Swan yesterday, Harry had wondered whether he had done the right thing in agreeing to the man's arrangement. The thought of having the Chief babysit as he did his homework left an unpleasant taste in Harry's mouth. It was true that Harry himself had sought Bella out for private help, but why did the Chief have to go and make that into even more of a chore than it already was? Harry wondered if he had even been right in approaching Bella for help, but who else could he have gone to? She was the only person who ever paid him any polite attention – Harry discounted the ever-present glares from the Cullen table. He was effectively alone.

"That's what I wanted, and so that's what I've got."

Sighing heavily, Harry finally got out of bed to perform his morning routine. Bella had not specified a time for him to arrive that morning, but with a glance at the clock Harry was out the door with his textbooks by half past nine. It would likely take him twenty minutes at least to walk; he hadn't been offered a lift and refused to stoop so low as to ask for one.

Harry had found it naturally easy to slip back into the normal way of life. His usual summer holidays had always prevented him from becoming too reliant on doing things the easy way. Not having spent much time in the wizarding world at the legal age of 17 had also been a help, Harry thought. He felt lighter without the weight of his wand and his magic in his pocket, and now, walking in the crisp morning air through this small American town, Harry realised this was the first time since arriving in Forks that he had felt somewhat at peace.

Harry reflected on what a shame it was that people didn't spend more time out just walking. It was peaceful. He ignored the shadows he could feel around him, trying to drag him into their darkness. With each step his scowl lessened, and so it was with more positive spirit than with which he had woken that he knocked on Bella's front door just before 10 o'clock.

Loud galumphing footsteps alerted him that someone had heard his knock. The door swung open to reveal Bella smiling broadly, dressed warmly from the chill of the air.

"Harry! I realised late last night I didn't tell you when to come over!" She managed to make her excited welcome also sound apologetic.

"Is now okay, I can always –?" Harry started.

"No, of course, now's perfect. Come on inside, it's freezing out here!" She moved out of the doorway so Harry could shuffle past into the house. He was pleased to feel it was much warmer inside.

"Oh no, Harry how did you get here?" Bella asked with dawning comprehension. "You didn't walk, did you?" When Harry just shrugged in response, she cried, "I'm so sorry! I should have picked you up! I'll give you a lift home, of course!"

Harry was quite embarrassed by her incessant apology.

"It's fine, really," he tried, but he knew it was a losing battle.

"Don't be stupid, your house is miles. You're getting a lift, like it or not." And Harry knew it was final. "Come on upstairs, we'll work in my room." Bella turned to head upstairs, going at a much calmer speed than that at which she had descended. Questioning whether this was a good idea once more, Harry followed.

While Bella's house was, thankfully, nowhere near as large as Harry's, it was a perfect size for a small family, Harry thought. The walls were adorned with many childhood photos of Bella, her mother and father occasionally appearing with her. It gave the place a cosy feeling, like a proper home.

"Don't judge my room," Bella said as she turned off the hallway. "It hasn't changed since I was about seven."

Following her inside, Harry was met with a perfectly respectable bedroom for a seventeen year old. Sure there was a definite purple theme and some of the posters were surely from a much younger era, but it just added to the cosiness he had felt since entering the house.

"So what shall we start with?" Bella asked. She had sat herself down at one of the two chairs at her desk which was clear except for Bella's own notes and textbooks as well as an assortment of stationery. Above her desk was an open window, looking out into the street below.

"Maybe Biology. It's like a different language at the moment," Harry admitted bitterly as he fished out his book from his bag. He collapsed into the chair beside Bella and watched as she pulled out her notes, all colour coordinated by topic. Harry couldn't help be reminded of –

'Don't!'

The cold air from the open window seemed to frost over Harry's good mood at once.

"Did you have a decent Biology teacher at your school in England? Sometimes that can make things harder to follow if you don't." Bella said politely. Harry had never studied Biology before in his life, of course. He wasn't about to admit that.

"Something like that," he muttered.

And so Bella began to talk him through the past week's material, patiently explaining things even when Harry failed to understand the most basic concepts. She took her time drawing detailed diagrams and helping him look up unfamiliar terms in his textbook, making him summarise each topic they covered as they went. Harry had to admit Bella was a good teacher. He just wished that he understood what on earth she was talking about.

An hour later and after answering his eighteenth straight question incorrectly, Harry threw his pen down in frustration.

"I can't do this!" He cried, bitterly angry with himself. He hadn't even failed this miserably at Potions.

'Shut up!'

"You can do this, Harry, it just takes practice," Bella said calmly, but Harry thought he could hear a trace of frustration underlying her reassurance. He couldn't blame her.

"Look, you tried but it just isn't working. I guess I'm just too stupid for this subject."

"Harry!" Bella cried, horror on her face. "That's a terrible thing to say! You've been summarising all the key points really well without any prompting! It's just remembering what you've learned in a different way to answer the questions instead of just reciting it." She was staring at him with pity, Harry could see out of the corner of his eye. He hated pity.

"Why don't we take a break," Bella suggested. "Come on, let's go find something to eat, get away from this desk for a while." Unable to think of a way to leave without being incredibly rude, Harry shoved his hands deep in his pockets and followed. He stomped down the stairs as loudly as he could, not caring if he was acting immature. What had possessed him to think he could cope with high school?

"Coffee?" Bella's voice called from a room further in the house. Following the sound, Harry found his way to a small but well-furnished kitchen. Bella was standing on tip toe, her head buried in a cupboard from which she managed to extract two well-used mugs.

"No, I'm okay," Harry said, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. He'd never had coffee before but the smell had never attracted him.

"I suppose you prefer tea? None of us drink it so we haven't got any, sorry." And she did sound sorry.

"It's fine, really." Why did she have to be so nice to him?

Bella sat down at the small round table, gently blowing on her coffee. Taking a careful sip, she raised an expectant eyebrow at Harry who understood that to mean he should sit down. He stared out the window, watching as a light drizzle began to fall.

"Must remind you of home sometimes," Bella said, indicating the rain outside.

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "Just like home."

"Do you miss it?" She asked it casually, but Harry still felt it was prying.

"Is your mum home?" Harry asked instead. He hoped the answer was no; he hadn't considered the possibility when he had stamped down the stairs.

"She lives in Phoenix with her new husband," Bella said, a slight look of hurt on her face. Harry had a suspicion the look wasn't related to her divorced parents, but rather was directed at him. "What about your parents? Are they still in England?"

Harry sneered nastily at her.

"My parents are dead."

He regretted his tone a second later, so distressed was the look on Bella's face. Harry sighed. Maybe now though she'd stop being nosey.

"Sorry, it's fine, just leave it," he muttered, ashamed.

Just at that moment the front door snapped open and shut, making both of them jump. They could hear the sound of someone removing heavy clothing and sighing in the relief of the warmth and dry.

"Bella? You home?" called the voice of the Chief.

'Great,' thought Harry.

"Kitchen!" Bella called back, giving Harry an uneasy look.

"Do I smell coffee?" Bella gave Harry a wan smile before jumping up to fix her father a steaming mug of coffee. She was just replacing the pot on the bench when Chief Swan entered the kitchen. He started at the sight of Harry sitting at the table.

"Mr – I mean, Harry, I forgot you would be here," he said casually, clearly trying to forget the tense words the pair had exchanged yesterday. Harry wasn't particularly interested in trying to patch things up with the man, so merely grunted at his greeting. Taking the coffee from Bella, the Chief leaned against the counter and took a long sip. Smacking his lips, he looked content.

"How's the study going?"

Bella glanced at Harry. "It's –"

"Finished," Harry cut in. "We were just finishing. Come on Bella." And he walked out of the kitchen and back upstairs to fetch his books. He had no interest in staying in the house any longer than necessary with the Chief. It was as though all Harry's bitterness and anger had snuck back into the house along with the older man, and the once cosy home was now suffocating him.

Angrily thrusting his books back into his bag, Harry sensed rather than heard Bella come into the room.

"Harry," she began.

"Look, I think we've both had enough for one day. Please," he said and he turned to look at her, "we'll try another time, but I'm done with today." Shouldering his bag, he walked past her out of the room, pointedly not looking at the disappointed frown he knew was on her face. He heard Bella following him but she said nothing. She overtook him on the stairs and walked out the front door ahead of him.

"What are you doing?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"I'm giving you a lift, fool." It wasn't said harshly, but her happiness from earlier was gone. "Get in."


Bella sat in her room that night thinking about the morning that had transpired. She was frustrated. Frustrated with herself, frustrated with Harry, even frustrated with her father. True she couldn't help Harry's attitude, nor the way her father's mere presence seemed to rile the boy like nothing else. But she herself was also at fault, and that was something which she could control. She regretted not insisting Harry stay longer to try finish on a positive note instead of leaving in anger and disappointment.

Bella understood the reason of his frustration, but she didn't understand why it was so. Harry didn't just struggle with the in depth detail from class, but the basic and most fundamental concepts seemed completely new to him. There was only so much blame one could put on poor teaching in the past. If Harry hadn't insisted otherwise, Bella would have been sure he had never sat in a high school science lesson in his life.

Bella also felt terrible at the way Harry had told her of his parents. The way he had announced their deaths was cold and cruel, chilling Bella more than anything he had ever said before. Harry terrified her. She didn't know what someone with that much solitude and instability in their life did to cope. She prayed that Harry wasn't as self-destructive as he sometimes appeared.

The car ride back to Harry's had been filled with uncomfortable silence. Bella had wanted to ask so many more questions, but she knew that Harry would likely not answer and grow even more hostile than he already was. In the end the only words either had said was a quiet "See you Monday" from Bella.

What Bella had hoped for was a chance to discuss the Cullens. She knew there was some kind of past that existed between Harry and the curious family. There seemed to be a mix of pure loathing and frank curiosity in the glares they sent each other, though it was only ever loathing that Harry sent across the room. Bella couldn't explain why their relationship had captured her interest so intensely. All she knew was she wouldn't be able to let it go until she heard the story from one side or the other, and she was fairly confident she wouldn't hear it from the Cullens.

"I will be Harry's friend. I will make him talk to me," she declared to her empty room.

With a new determination she had not felt before, Bella collapsed onto her bed and allowed sleep to take her.