I owe you guys an apology for the delay. Final exam ended in mid-june, and after that I was struck with a huge writer block. This chapter is conflicting—because I keep changing things. I've been absent for almost two months and I'd like this one to be at least worth the wait. I hope you think so, but oh well, read it guys!

Special thank you for Lutcy. If it's not for him, this chapter would've been the fluffiest, but also the most cliche and boring piece of work I've ever written.

HUGE THANK YOU for semexx, Aquaone, gizago, kazanayeahbuddy, TNM-Writer, Aaron Leach, Srutokirti, FleeingReality, mattblue, Firehedgehog, amata0221, OoOXylionOoO, dreblspooky, Goldenfightergirl, Lord Mortensen, TheNorwegianAuthor, noble117, lavanyalabelle, DarkReader15, TheBeauty, Victoria131, Azucena17, UchihaRai, 0Harry. J. Potter0, PinkIsMyColor, Penny is wise, Weird'sMyName, lawliness, DancingintheRayne and a guest!

DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot and some original characters.

Words : 5039

This is the un-beta'ed version. I'll re-upload it as soon as it's ready!

A completely insane idea appeared in her mind. A simple wish that turned to be desire to stay. Is it possible? Is it too far-fetched to hope to extend this adventure? To hope for Harry's presence by her side? To wish to be completely free from her family, and explore the world to her heart's contents?

She did not ever want to go home anymore. At least, not now.

Chapter 8 - Pocctalin

Even with the heat of the sun blazing, Harry was very tempted to drift off into sleep. The wind was sweeping in a nice pace and the blankets Renesmee arranged in the side car was surprisingly very comfortable. He had magically enlarged the side car that it now could fit a person laying without his feet getting stuck. Their surrounding was nothing but a vast display of blue sky and puffy clouds below them, but it was still really fanciable to see. Harry had never reached this high before—and he did feel excited the first few hours—but now all he wanted was a good sleep and a cup of pumpkin juice.

One thing he was grateful for was Renesmee's ability to pick up things in incredibly short time. In result, Renesmee was decided as the pilot with no arguments, as she was incredibly pumped to reach their destination.

"I'm so excited!" Renesmee's voice prevented him to sleep.

"I know. That's the seventh time you mentioned it," Harry replied idly. She could be a bother sometimes.

"Cut me some slack," She said cheerfully. "I mean, I am now flying. And we're heading for the place of my choice."

"Fascinating," Harry tried his best to sound interested. "Now pardon me, but I'm going to take a nap."

"Oh, come on," She huffed. "All you do is sleeping."

"Unfortunately, I'm a mortal," He replied in a bored tone. "We mortals need some sleep. You hardly let me rest last night."

She frowned in disgust. "And you mortals supposedly need shower! How could you tell me not to stop?"

"A quick scourgify would do."

"Yeah, spells do everything," She said sarcastically. "Wizards are rather lazy, if you ask me.."

"Excuse me?"

"Weren't you trying to sleep?" She asked innocently.

A little annoyed, Harry decided this was the time to ignore her. With blankets covering his face, Harry drifted into unconsciousness.

Harry didn't dream. Or at least, he didn't remember. He was used to have nightmares—come to think of it, since when did those nightmares disappear?

The incoherent words slowly made sense as he gained his vision. At first, all he could see was Renesmee's long bronze hair tossed around by the wind. Regaining his senses, he immediately sat to see the islands that his father had wanted to see.

"—finally there! Hawaii, Harry!"

"I could hear you perfectly fine," He muttered as he ruffled his hair, even though her excitement was indeed infectious.

Elegant high buildings stood proudly, as if to prove the city's reputation, with little space to the wide open sea. It was different with the one he spotted near the hospital. These ones were more glorious, inviting, established to attract. As Harry was approving the scene, Renesmee pulled the handle and the motorcycle descended until the wheels were almost brushing the water. Harry let his left hand soak into the sea, pleasantly surprised by the cold, refreshing sensation. A chuckle slipped through his lips.

"So, where to go?" Renesmee beamed. "The muggle coast? Or is there a magical community as well?"

Harry checked the list again. The only one with a check mark next to it was the Japan's quest. His eyes found the thirty fourth wish, one of the few rather messy writings among the nice straight ones.

Try the World's Best Whiskey in Halu'iowa, Hawaii.

Renesmee was suddenly next to his head. "Halu'iowa?"

He jerked a little at the sudden presence of her voice next to his ears. Ignoring her snickers, he took a red book out of his backpack, flipping it impatiently until a picture of the city caught his eyes.

The entrance of the city was located in the bathroom of Honolulu International Airport. At this, Harry simply could not understand wizarding society's morbid fascination with public bathroom. Before he could read more, Renesmee demanded a switch, letting her play with the water that was as cold as her temperature. There was nothing to do but splashing—he glared at her before she could attempt it on him—but she looked as if she was actually having fun.

The ride to the airport was short, since they first landed at the left side of Wakiki beach. Once they entered, the motorcycle was safely shrunk and both walked to find the nearest bathroom. The security sadly did not stand a chance against several charms.

When Renesmee kept on following him, he whispered to her ear, "What are you doing? The female one's over there."

She stopped, bewildered. "What? What do I do?"

"Oh, right. Just stand in the loo—" Renesmee's jaw dropped, "—and press the buttons on the seat in this order: right, right, left."

He was ready to part, as the crowd began to gather, forming a line in the bathroom. However, before he could move, Renesmee yanked his wrist.

"Wha—you're serious?"

He shrugged. "Unfortunately, yes."

Her face turned exasperated. "Can't we at least go in together?"

"The loo's barely enough for one person," Harry told her, not harshly, but not patiently either. He wasn't exactly keen on having to get stuck in the long queue. "Nothing's going to happen. Let's be off already."

Renesmee smacked his shoulder before parting. The bathroom wasn't too packed, and the travel by loo went smoother than he expected. With a little familiar, uncomfortable sensation, Harry found himself in a wide alley. The wall was made of stones, appearing plain with nothing to decorate it except the lines of lights that were hung from wall to wall in crossing pattern. From every side of the wall, various people emerged, walking calmly as if they had just walked through a door.

Harry waited for a sign of Renesmee in the middle of the way. When full ten minutes had passed, Harry started to really wonder where she had gotten herself into. The radar on his wristwatch that was supposed to pinpoint her location wasn't moving. Did it have something to do with the magical boundaries?

He called a woman that had just appeared from the wall of his right side. "Excuse me. Is every loo in the airport connected to this alley?"

She looked stunned, but nodded. "Yes."

"Did you a see a pale bronze-haired girl with a blue shirt?"

"Umm, sorry, no."

He insisted further, "Has there ever been any accidents?"

"Not that I knew—Oh! Is this girl a witch?"

"No," Harry said, getting a bit uneasy at her stare. "A vampire."

"The toilet works with magic. If she's not magical, it probably won't work. Hey, your face look kinda familiar—"

But Harry didn't bother to hear the rest. He muttered a small 'thank you' as he stormed past her, re-entering the wall. He almost collided with a round man in the loo, who looked quite enraged that he actually went after him for awhile. The distance between the men's bathroom and the woman's was uncommonly far. By the time he got there, Harry rushed in, ignoring multiple shrieks of the women.

"Sorry," Before any of them could scream more, he briskly continued. "Did any of you see a pale bronze-haired girl? About sixteen, blue shirt, black jeans?"

"The pretty one?" One of them, looking a bit miffed, answered. "She came in and out for several minutes before going off somewhere."

Another one butted in. "She looked like she was crying, though."

"Thanks," He said weakly.

Then the radar beeped once, showing a blue light that had moved from her previous spot. He turned into a small hallway before disapparating to the second floor.

The sea of people didn't make it easier. Harry advanced, absent-mindedly mumbling 'sorry' for every person he bumped. His eyes were focused on his wristwatch, where the light wasn't moving anymore.

There she was. All he could see was her back, but he would recognize that bronze hair a mile away. She was sitting by herself in a bench. Harry tried to compose himself as he walked closer, thinking of apology to give. The guilt twisting in his stomach had overturned the worry he had earlier. It was his fault for not thinking thoroughly, putting her in a possible danger. What on earth would he do if she actually disappeared?

He coughed, "Hey."

The bronze-haired girl turned around, a spill of mustard on her lips. "Oh, there you are, Harry. Been looking for you!"

Harry stared at the hotdog on the girl's hand, then at her face that seemed anything but upset. He let out a heavy breath, a smile on his lips. Shaking his head in disbelief, he moved forward, ruffled her hair, and snatched the hotdog to take a bite.

"The toilet didn't work!" She scowled, though it seemed like purely irritation. Harry expected much more, much more, so he looked away, grinning.

"Yeah," Harry fought the urge to snicker. "I'm sorry. Should've paid more attention to it."

When she didn't say anything, Harry sneaked a glance at her. Her eyes were unfocused, her face stoic. Harry forced the hotdog into her mouth.

"Hmphh—!"

"What's in your mind?" He asked before she could protest.

She glared, but Harry held his gaze. A set of emotions flashed her face; sadness and guilt being the most dominant ones. Harry waited, until she finally look resigned.

"I was just thinking of my family."

"You want to go back?" Harry offered softly. It was easy to forget that she was only a teenager. It was infuriatingly easier to forget that unlike him, she had parents to always worry about.

"No—Yes. I don't know!" She snapped. Then her face fell. "Sorry."

"We can always go back," He suggested. "I don't mind taking you back."

"No. No," Her voice sounded steadier. Suddenly, she stood, her sadness replaced by elated mask. "Come on, Harry, the beach is waiting!"

"Renesmee.."

"Stop," Her eyes captured his, as well as her hands. "I don't want to go home. At least not now. Can—Can I please stay?"

Harry searched her eyes, looking for any sign of doubts. Yet her chocolate eyes seemed determined, shining, as if daring him to prove her wrong. Harry let out a puff of breath, sounding as if annoyed, but he knew Renesmee caught the twitched corners of his mouth.

"Definitely," harry watched her eyes shining in delight, as she gave him a hug that nearly crushed his bones.

'Lively' seemed to be the best word to describe this city. The crowd was massive that it was harder to walk—Renesmee had to tug on Harry's jacket to stay close—even so than the one on the arrival alley. The buildings reminded her of the 1900s buildings that Carlisle fondly showed her. They radiated a dull aura, but the shops, along with the crowd and colorful lanterns above their heads were enough to spark the spirit of the town.

Renesmee's eyes lit up the moment they found a famous market near the centre of the town. Beside her, Harry sighed. "Go ahead."

The first store they stormed in was the local joke shop. Renesmee didn't really know about it—surprisingly the same went for Harry, that stuck-up little jerk—but from the various colors, interesting shapes and fascinating advertisement, she took the lot of the shelves and put them in front of the owner's flabbergasted face. Emmet and Jasper are so owing her.

The rest of the shopping included clothes, much to Harry's irritation. Well, growing up with Alice and Rosalie did have its effects. She planned to buy him some local clothes, but the wizard fled saying he was going to need a new shampoo. After this, Harry dragged her to a nearby All-You-Can-Eat restaurant. Her experience with magical cuisine wasn't exactly astounding. But surprisingly, they were pretty good. One of them tasted like chalk, but the others were excellent.

Her main goal was to play in the beach, but she supposed it was enough of torturing Harry for the day. It was his vacation after all. The sun seemed to agree as it slowly began to set. Harry asked a local about the particular drink, and the local laughed.

"You're sure, buddy? The drink's pretty popular, but it's too intense for most people. Most got drunk right away, most fainted. If you're up to the challenge, talk to the central bar's owner. I'm sure he's got some!"

Harry's face was a bit white.

"Don't worry," She smirked. "I'll make sure nothing embarrassing is going to happen."

The nightlife was crazy.

There was a huge bonfire at the heart of the town. The magical fire was a beautiful shade of blue, reflecting the calming waves that could be felt from the open sea right next to it. Around it, a set of seats were filled with wizards and witches chortling. Beers. Food. The laughter. The same lantern that crossed above their heads in wrecked pattern, magically unaffected by the fire. The music was too loud, ending up hurting her sensitive ears. The reek of alcohol was sickening.

There were no children around, and for the love of god, she hoped they were never present here. A dozen of almost-bare women danced in grace, circling the fire like some creepy rituals. The bystanders around didn't exactly try to be polite either.

"Harry," She said carefully. "I don't think I can make sure nothing embarrassing is going to happen here."

Harry nodded nervously. His hand dragged her to the center of the bar—that looked too huge and extravagant to be missed. Inside, it appeared to be a close replica to normal bars, with the exception of floating bottles and cups. Oh, and multiple colors that struck the room.

Renesmee followed Harry to talk with one of the bartender. The available bartender was busy with a man that was surrounded by women. She rolled her eyes. But then, his eyes weren't on those women. His eyes were on Harry. The young man was wearing a black fedora, with a few of ginger strands underneath.

"Harry?" The man finally spoke in a thick British accent.

"Hmm—GEORGE!"

"Dear Ickle Harrickins!" He cried rather dramatically. "Never thought I'd see you here!"

"You're supposed to be at France, you barmy—"

Renesmee watched as Harry and this George exchanged warm greetings. They seemed to be really good friends. A part of her was fascinated, but another was nervous. Harry had been so accepting beyond belief, but the others?

"So this beautiful lady is Harry's companion!" George grinned, before actually pressed his lips on her hand. "Mysterious, dashing Sir George Weasley at your service."

The worries that started to build up in her chest evaporated as Renesmee giggled. George shooed the women away and let Harry and her sit next to him.

"The Joke shop is booming. So I thought I'd use the money on a nice vacation," George started to what Renesmee would expect of a really long story. "But that's not the real reason, though. I had been rejected!"

Harry patted him in the back. "Sorry for you, mate."

"I know! What's there to reject me, anyway? The beautiful French blondie as the bride of the Weasley king!" He declared.

Renesmee couldn't help to snort.

"Now, now, full of yourself, aren't you? You better not be breaking young girls' hearts, Harry."

"Oh, why do you have to be so.. excited, George?" Harry shook his head, but with a hint of smile. "Found her crying at the corner of the streets. As the nice man I was, I brought her along."

"You didn't!" Renesmee protested. George joined to Harry's snickers. "I still haven't forgiven you for leaving me in the airport, you know."

"Please," Harry rolled his eyes. "You weren't even upset."

Renesmee devilishly threw a comeback at him, and Harry replied to it. He seemed happier than usual, obviously because of George's presence. In the middle of the playful banter, Renesmee found George's eyes repeatedly moving from her to Harry, as if confused of something.

The expression disappeared as fast as it appeared. George was now beaming because of her love declaration for pranks. Both of them ignored Harry's muttering as they talked about well-thought pranks. George even gave her a few of his best products, claiming that he only did this for the 'worthy ones'.

"Ah," Harry said after George finished telling a story of his newest invention. "The drink!"

As Harry called the bartender, George raised an eyebrow. "What drink?"

"My father's bucketlist," Harry gave him a lopsided grin. "To drink the world's best whiskey."

George's eyes rounded. "You're barmy!"

When Harry repeated what he said to the bartender who looked a bit surprised, the bartender came back in a five minutes with a bottle in hand. The bartender declared proudly, "This is Pocctalin."

"That's gonna be super strong, Harry," George warned. "I've been here for two weeks and the whiskey's insane. That's the normal whiskey I'm talking about."

"You're not exactly helping him, you know," Renesmee offered.

"The list said 'try'," Harry looked like he was composing himself. "A glass would do."

George sniffed. "Warned ya, brother."

Renesmee stared at Harry who seemed a bit nervous. A smirk tugged on her lips, as she rested her head against the back of her hand. "Go on, Harry."

Slowly, the glass made its way to Harry's mouth. He hesitated, and for a second she thought he would put it back down. Instead, he drank the glass dry in one go.

Both Renesmee and George didn't avert their eyes from him.

Harry looked unsure at first, then suddenly his face turned happy. "Not so bad. No—it's bloody good, but not that intense."

He poured down another drink.

"Harry.."

But he had already drunk it. His laughter was louder this time, and the reek of alcohol was stronger. He jerked in his seat once, before staring at the now empty glass on the table.

Then, his head banged against the bar, his eyes closed.

"Harry?" Renesmee asked, not sure whether she should be worried or amused.

Harry woke up seven seconds after he momentarily fainted. This was the first time Renesmee actually saw him drunk, and she couldn't help to feel a bit giddy. George couldn't stop laughing at his face, and even harder when Renesmee took this opportunity to take a few pictures.

"I—" She managed to say between the row of laughs. "I'll get him some water."

She walked to the corner of the room in human pace. Just before she pushed the button to fill the water, she heard Harry's weak voice. "You're mad at me, Forge?"

"Mad? For what?" George shook his head.

"Your ickle sister," Harry hiccuped. "Ginny. You told me once you'd murder me if I screwed up."

"Well, I do hope you two are gonna make up soon," George's voice turned serious, this time taking a bottle with himself. "She's been a wreck for months. I could've killed you for that alone."

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't," George agreed. "She's my sister, Harry. But you're my brother."

"She's just so perfect," Harry spoke almost incoherently. "Fiery, nice, down to earth.."

"The same thing applies to Renesmee, you know."

"What?"

"Do you love Ginny, Harry?" George looked at him square in the eye. "Like, really love her?"

"I'll do anything for her," His voice, even drunk, sounded sure. "Anything to get her back."

Harry didn't seem like he had anything left to say to that. George interjected, "Forget about that for awhile. The girl is interesting, Harry."

"Renesmee," Harry mumbled. "She won't stop shopping."

George laughed. "That's all you have to say?"

"She won't stop bugging me," Harry sounded annoyed. "She does crazy things that she thinks 'fun'. Gets mad with no apparent reason. Ungrateful. Unbelievably cheerful and excited over small, stupid things."

"Why not just leave her then?"

Harry snorted. "Are you insane? Never!"

George's face was blank, in confusion or anger, she didn't know. Harry had reached for another glass, ignoring George's warning. Renesmee decided it was the time to show herself, so she turned back to bring Harry his water. The glass on his hands was now already empty.

"Geez, Harry. Don't you remember what happened last time you were too drunk?" Renesmee chided. "I'll have to drag you back myself, you know."

"Ah, this one's maybe drunk, but he won't let a lady carry him," George laughed heartily, any trace of earlier conversation gone. "Right, Harry?"

Harry was probably too drunk to answer. Renesmee had a deep scowl. "Maybe you could help us back, Mr. Weasley."

"Nah. No way. I just got here a week ago, you know. The ladies are so fond of me.." George's eyes twinkled in a quite disturbing way. "I'm sure this ickle git would get to know 'em better, don't you Harry?"

When Harry didn't answer again, Renesmee lifted a strand of dark hair to check his face. "I'll say he's completely wasted.." His body shook a bit. "Harry? You're crying or something?"

"HA! Harry, the crying drunk! Zis is priceless!"

"Quiet, George!" She hissed. "..Harry?"

But Harry didn't respond. His body rocked harder, and this time Renesmee had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her hands approached him, intending to soothe, but before it could reach him, his eyelids snapped open.

Renesmee couldn't move. His eyes were fixed on her. His glowing green eyes.

Everything moved so fast. The next second, the bar was crumbled by Harry's kick, triggering screams to erupt. Before she could even question it, all of the glasses nearby shattered. His body jumped to the ceiling in a swift grace the same time he grabbed the lamp. His right hand jabbed through and pulled the roof down, crashing it down to the earth.

All of it did nothing to hurt her, but the horror of the sight was enough to bring her to her knees. The screams were like toxin for her—pounding in her ears, intensifying the hanging pendulum on her chest. It didn't have the same effect on him. He looked positively joyful, as if it was the most captivating music in the world.

She wanted to tell herself that this was a mere dream—or that she too was drunk. But Harry's eyes were too cruel, too lethal to be anything her dreams would imagine. His face was deathly pale under the moonlight, his mouth forming into a harsh sneer. His movement was inhumanly graceful, as if he was a Vampire.

He raised a hand at the bartender who was too suffocated by fear to move. It almost crushed the poor man's face until Renesmee pulled the bartender's hand to throw him out of the scene. A little back pain wouldn't kill him.

The bonfire party was crashed. Nothing came from Harry himself, but the crowd was too panicked to stay around. It was about time until aurors would come and restrain him. He needed to be stopped; but Renesmee was completely at lost. What are the odds of surviving against Harry in this state?

Then he roared. The sound was foreign, an inhuman sound that sent a chill down her spine. Suddenly he disappeared, only to reappear nearby a plump witch. Renesmee screamed. He titled his head to her direction, but his hand was still moving.

She pushed the woman far out of the way, holding her tight that they made through the force that exploded behind them. There, where they were just standing, appeared a huge hole that looked like a meteor had fallen. Among the smokes, the young man leapt for another thing. This time Renesmee was more proactive—she twisted the joint of his elbow to change his aim. The lumps on her throat decreased a little when his attack was off. She wasn't naive enough to think she would be able to block him; let alone confront him.

He didn't just want to destroy. His rampage had included a few targets, and all of them were humans. He aimed for the nearest human, and when failed, searched for another. He bared his teeth to her before he leapt for another one.

It was times like this she hated herself for being such a crybaby. "HARRY! STOP—PLEASE!"

But Harry ignored her—or maybe plainly unable to hear her, she didn't know. Nothing made sense anymore. Seconds ago they were all laughing heartily. Now he became something she couldn't comprehend; all she knew that it was not Harry. It was someone—something—entirely different with the warm, kind Harry who would die to protect a stranger.

Renesmee pumped her feet to scurry to the child he was walking to. "Stop! Harry—"

His right kick landed on the bench. The boy was safely in her hands, wailing helplessly. Her stomach turned into a horrible knot; she couldn't keep saving and defending. Something had to be done as offense, yet she could barely save the child in time. The only option was to run, to put the child somewhere safe.

"TORRIC!" She heard a woman's voice.

It was a witch, running clumsily for the kid that was holding onto her like a lifeline. Renesmee dashed to give him back. There was no use hiding anything.

"Th—thank you," She gasped.

"Don't mention it," Renesmee said grimly. "Really. Please don't."

Then she ran back, despite her logical part of the brain screamed her not to. The alley and the square were mostly empty of humans—with the exception of some who were unconscious. Harry was still there, looking even angrier than before. His head kept turning around wildly. She knew what he was searching for.

Someone alive.

She took the chance of his exposed back to send a devastating blow. This was not Harry. Whatever it was, Harry could deal with his broken bones later. All she could do now was to bring Harry out.

He growled. Renesmee got the impression that he was angry for being attacked, yet satisfied of finally finding a moving person to destroy. He drew a fist, and she dashed to his right side to slap his arm. His right arm collided with the ground. She couldn't let him hit her with one of her attack.

It was hopeless. Renesmee ducked when he attacked. She leapt above him to impact her hand with his prepared leg. It went for five minutes, and in spite of Renesmee's speculation of his tenacity, his blow was getting stronger and stronger each time. She sucked a shaky breath when he stopped for awhile. It was then when she realized of the presence of tears running down her cheeks.

Something suddenly made impact with her stomach. The next second she was on the air, gasping. Her insides felt as if they were on fire. Everything seemed so surreal; the pain. Harry's eyes. Her sudden difficulty to breathe. Her eyes memorized that it was not a physical blow, but a blue beam that assaulted her. She didn't even think it was possible to taste this much iron from her own body.

With one blow, she wasn't able to move. Pathetic. Harry was calmly walking towards her, as pretentious as the Grim Reaper itself.

Both of Harry's arms lit in blue light. They were now inches apart, both his hands drew to charge. His eyes glinted in some sort of sick amusement. His movements were infuriatingly slow, his sneer turning into a smile. She wanted to fight back, to at least act tough in the edge of her life—if it was true. But her body wouldn't allow it, as well as her heart that felt as if it bled.

She bit back a sob. She didn't want to die now—not like this, not before apologizing to everyone, and certainly not in his hands.

A spark—a spell—came rushing, as if for her rescue. Harry deflected it easily like a fly, but it did the job to distract Harry from her. It gave her a moment to gasp a deep breath—her overflowing tears tasted salty for doing so. Harry's attention was now on the left side of the destroyed bar, at the figure of a panting ginger.

"George—NO!" She gasped, mostly in pain from her ribs while she breathed.

She could see George was scared, but he held his wand high. He sent a row of spells, all non-verbal, colorful and dangerous, as she inspected the effect they had at the buildings where Harry deflected them to. Renesmee forced herself to stand. It was in vain, as her body collapsed back to the ground.

George began to levitate several bottles. He sent them to smash Harry's head repeatedly, as well sending two bottles to her direction. A Strength and adrenaline potions. That might just be what she needed. Her hand forced them in while the time was still on her side, ignoring the dreadful taste and sickening smell. Meanwhile, Harry finally snapped, brushing the potions off like an angered animal and jumped for George.

"NO!" Renesmee ran, the potion finally taking effect. "NOT HIM!"

Not George. He won't be able to handle it. His feeble human flesh. NO! HARRY—

Renesmee reached his hand the moment she had a deafening crack, followed by a hoarse scream. She had pulled Harry away to the air, but her face was white. George's body fell to the ground, huge amount of blood soaking through his shirt.

Oh God. Oh God.

"George.."

Harry charged again. Renesmee, clinging her hope on the small beats of George's heart, did the same. Before they made contact, she side-stepped, pulling his collar and threw him to the open ocean.

Ocean. Of Course.

A hopeful smile sneaked its way to her face. She followed him, down to the cold water. Harry was preparing to rise, but she grabbed his neck, pulling him deeper. The water was so cold that he visibly shivered, but Renesmee didn't stop. He struggled, but it was weaker. Her hands touched his face. One of her tear escaped and formed a small bubble.

Something in his face shifted. His muscles relaxed. His eyes slowly dimmed, and without hesitation, she pulled her hands back and embraced him.

"Please," Her lips mouthed. "Come back."

And he did.

See? I'm not that bad! I'm not giving you any cliffhanger this time.

READ THIS : Now I'm starting to think that I annoy people with the reviewers listing. What do you think? Do you like your name posted here before the story or would you rather just get down to business? I won't continue the listing if you guys'd like me to do so. Do tell me!

Ahh, the action. I suck at it but I can't help but to add it everytime. Also, if you think the Harry-Nessie thing is too mushy, again, tell me!

Love it, hate it, couldn't care less, let me know!