The IvyandLime Notebook

2010-03-02T06:58:00.000-08:00

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All original content ©2010 IvyandLime. Any unauthorised reproduction or redistribution is strictly prohibited.

Chapter One - Letter

2010-03-02T06:03:00.000-08:00

He kissed my lips, I taste your mouth,
He pulled me in, I was disgusted with myself.
Coz when I’m with him I am thinking of you
Thinking of you
What you would do if you were the one who was spending the night
Oh I wish that I was looking into your eyes
~ “Thinking of You” Katy Perry

_______________________~*~_______________________

My Dearest Bella,

It is my greatest wish that you never have to read this letter, however, if you are, it means that something has happened to me. I want you to know that, no matter what life brings us, no matter what event has caused our separation in life, I will always love you with every fiber of my being.

From the moment I first laid eyes on you, my life has been more than I could ever have wished it to be. Your smile, the constant sparkle in your eyes, the way you are completely oblivious to the way you light up every room you enter…

You are the light in my life, and in the lives of so many others that have been blessed with your presence.

Please, don’t ever let that light fade. Remember me, but remember to live too. I want you to be happy when I’m gone. I want you to find love again. You have so much to give to this world; don’t give up. Keep sharing your light, for me, for the memory of what we had together, and for your future. I may not be able to be a part of your future physically, but I will always be in your heart and in your memories.

I love you. Be safe, my Bella.

Eternally yours,
Edward
XoXo

I re-read the crumpled, tear-stained letter for the goodness-knows-how-many-eth time, silent tears yet again streaming down my face. I lay curled up in myself on my side of the bed, one hand clutching my heart while the other held the letter in front of my face.

It didn’t matter how many times I read it a day; after two years, the words in his elegant script still tore at my heart and reduced me to the sobbing mess I had been the very first time I had read it.

Two years. It had been two years to the day since Edward had been ripped from my life, ripped from the time in my life I had considered to be the happiest in all of my twenty-two years.

Edward had made me whole. He had filled a space inside me that I had not even realized was empty. His voice, his scent, his face, his smile, even the mention of his name had made something inside me swell with pure joy and happiness … now all it did was tear at the hole his absence had caused, making it larger with every reminder of him. The memory of him, the memory of our life together, the thought of what our life together could have been, what it should have been …

I couldn’t even stand reading his name. I couldn’t talk to anyone named Edward, I couldn’t read a book that had the name Edward in it, and I couldn’t even look at our bank statements. Our joint bank account still had his name on it, something that I hadn’t wanted to change because the majority of the money in it had been his. I still did not touch his share of the money in the account; I just used what I earned at work, even though his money was now technically mine. His will had stated that everything in his name was to be bequeathed to me. It had made dealing with my finances a hell of a lot more painful than it used to be.

It wasn’t just those memories that haunted me either; everywhere I looked there was something that would remind me of him. There was our house; the supermarket we would shop at every Wednesday evening; the little coffee shop near the university campus that we would have coffee at every morning before we parted to attend our separate classes; the park across the street from our house; the second-hand bookstore; any damn Volvo that drove by.

Seattle was just full of reminders of him. Reminders that would never go away and as much as I wanted to honor his wishes and continue to live life, to keep my light shining, to be happy, I found it both physically and mentally impossible to do so here in Seattle. The Cullens had tried to help me move on with them, to accept Edward’s death and be happy once more, but I had not come as far as they had. Nowhere near …

The thing was, they still had each other. They each had their respective partners, their soul mates, to help them through the grief. They could go home every day and fall into arms of the one they loved. I went home every day to an empty house full of the echoes of memories past.

That was, until Jake moved in. Now I came home to the echoes of memories past, and the over-enthusiastic reminder of my present. My mind refused to dwell much on my future.

My future with Jake, my best childhood friend and current … well, I don’t know what our current relationship was classified as. I wanted to be able to move on with Jake, to find the happiness that Edward wanted me to have and to start to live my life again, but something held me back. There was something in the back of my mind that always held strong and halted Jake’s advances before they went too far, and I was sick of it. I just wanted to forget. I wanted to feel.

I wanted to be whole again.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand. The red luminous numbers told me that it was five-fourteen in the morning. I had been up all night yet again, thinking about Edward.
I re-read the letter in my hand once more, my silent tears making my nose run and causing me to sniffle. I tried to be as quiet as possible, so as not to wake Jake as I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a Kleenex to blow my nose. Throwing the Kleenex in the trashcan beside the bed, I sniffled a few more times and carefully folded up the letter along the well-worn crease lines.

I felt the bed move as Jake shifted beside me, and I quickly stuffed the letter under my pillow, wiping my eyes on my pajama sleeves to remove any trace of the tears.

Jake rolled into me and slipped his arm around my waist, spooning me.

“What’s that?” he mumbled thickly, the haze of sleep still hanging over him.

“Nothing,” I replied, cursing myself internally for the sniffles I still had. This was not going to be a good morning.

Jake propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over to look at my face, a worried expression now settling over his features.

“You’ve been crying again. Bells, I -” he paused, a look of comprehension now taking over. “You were reading the letter again, weren’t you?”

I didn’t reply.

“Bella, how are you going to move on if you keep dwelling on that damn letter?” he asked angrily, sitting up fully in bed beside me. He reached over and pulled the letter out from under my pillow, glaring at it with disgust.

I sat up instantly and reached toward him to take it off him. He held it out of my grasp.

“Jake, give it back,” I pleaded, my heart wrenching at the thought of losing that letter.

“No, Bella, I will not give it back to you. This piece of – of paper is not helping you at all! Every time you read it, I lose you! You disappear back into that hollow shell you were two years ago, and it hurts me! It hurts me so much to see you looking like that. I’m sick of it, Bella! I’m trying to make you happy, to help you move on, so we can start our life together, but as soon as this letter appears, I lose everything I’ve worked towards and I have to start again from scratch!”

“Give me back the letter, Jake,” I demanded, feeling anger start to boil up inside.

“I can’t do it anymore, Bells. I can’t keep losing you like that. You have to get rid of it.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You want me to get rid of the only thing I have left of Edward? Of his love for me?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I won’t let you continue to fall into that dark hole!”

“Give me back the damn letter! You have no right to keep it from me, no right whatsoever!” I cried, launching myself at him in an attempt to rescue the letter, but to no avail. He held me back with one arm while holding the letter even further away from me with the other.

“Who the hell do you think you are? It’s my letter! Mine! You give it back to me! You give it back to me right now!” I screamed, pummeling his chest with my fists, while angry tears began to pour down my cheeks.

Jake struggled to halt my attack on him, finally succeeding in pinning me down to the bed by my forearms, the letter crushed between his right hand and my left arm. I let out a strangled cry.

“Jake, the letter … please don’t destroy the letter … it’s all I have left of him! Of Edward …” I sobbed.

He stared down at me, breathing heavily, hurt and anger clearly evident in his eyes.

“It’s been two years, Bella. He’s dead. All I want to do is make you happy again, to make you see that we can be happy together. I love you, Bells. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I can’t if he’s always going to be hanging around. You have to let him go. It’s what he wanted! It says so right here,” he cried, releasing my left arm and shaking the letter at me in his clenched fist. “He didn’t want you to be like this after two years. I miss you, Bells. I miss my best friend.”

I closed my eyes in defeat, letting the sobs take over my body.

“What do you want me to say, Jake? That Edward is just a distant memory? That I’ve forgotten everything he was to me?”

“I-”

“I can’t, Jake. It still hurts me to even hear his name. I love you, but-”

“You love him more.”

“I didn’t say that,” I defended.

“You didn’t have to! Bella, he’s gone.”

“I can’t just forget him, Jacob!”

Jake sighed and released my other arm, moving his hand to sweep the hair away from my face.

“I don’t expect you to, Bells. I just want to help fill the gap. I don’t want to replace him. All I want is for you to be happy again. I can make you happy, Bella! I can make you happy for the rest of your life! You just have to try with me. I can’t do it on my own.”

“I don’t know how to be happy anymore,” I choked, “I can’t remember what happiness is.”

I felt Jake lean his face over mine, his warm breath tickling the hair at my neck as he whispered, “Then let me show you.”

His lips suddenly connected with my own, pressing lightly at first trying to coax them to co-operate. Tired of fighting, I gave in and returned the kiss, parting my lips as he ran the tip of his tongue along them, requesting permission to enter. His lips and his kisses were nothing like Edward’s, yet I couldn’t help but think of him as Jake kissed me. My mind instantly pictured Edward above me; made me feel his lips against mine, made me taste him in Jake’s kiss … I was a bad person. I was a very bad person.

Our kisses quickly turned into a heated, desperate struggle for more. More of what, I couldn’t quite work out, but I was so lost in my emotions I had no idea what was going on. We began tearing at each other’s pajamas, gripping tightly in a fight to get closer to each other, to forget our pain and our hurt and to try fill the void our argument had torn even wider.

Jake traced rough kisses down my neck as he struggled with the buttons on my shirt, and I pulled at his hair, losing myself in moans of desperation. Somehow all of our clothes ended up strewn around us, save for my underwear, which remained the only barrier between our naked bodies.

Hovering over me, Jake returned his lips to mine, forcing my tongue to battle against his own as his hands slid down my sides and came to rest at my hips, his fingertips playing with the thin elastic of my panties. I felt him hook his fingers underneath and begin to slide them down my thighs, when my brain suddenly became aware of what was happening. A small scream escaped my lips as I wrenched them away from Jake’s and my whole body froze. I felt Jake tense above me and his eyes instantly snapped to mine.

“Bella? Bella, what’s wrong?” His voice was full of concern.

I shook my head, feeling hot tears begin to slide down my cheeks once more. I hadn’t been with anyone since Edward’s death, and having my mind play tricks on me, making me think of Edward while Jake was … it was downright cruel.

“I can’t do this … I just – I can’t …”

“Shh, Bella, it’s okay.” He lay down beside me and wrapped his arms protectively around me. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have -”

I tried to roll away from him, but he held me tightly in place.

“Bella, everything’s going to be okay. We can get through this together.”

“I can’t, Jake, I just – I can’t do it anymore. I need to get away from here. Everything reminds me of him, and I … I just can’t …”

Jake began to stroke my hair, pulling me tight against his chest.

“Shh … we’ll go away somewhere then. Somewhere far away where you can heal, and we can just be. We could go to Texas, or to New York! Or we can go spend some time up in Canada-”

I attempted to escape his grasp again, and this time succeeded. I managed to roll out of his arms and off the bed, stumbling backwards until I found my footing, all the while shaking my head at his suggestions.

“Jake, I … I’m sorry, Jake. I can’t do this with you right now. I need some time alone.” I staggered around the room, collecting my pajamas and putting them back on before walking to the cupboard and pulling out a suitcase. Jake watched from the bed, speechless, as I began to haphazardly throw piles of clothes into it.

After a moment, he seemed to come back to his senses as he jumped off the bed and ran over to slam the lid of the suitcase closed. He looked up at me, eyes blazing.

“Bella, you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re not thinking straight. Just come back to bed and get some sleep. We can discuss this later on,” he pleaded. I shook my head.

“No, I’ve got to leave. I can’t stay in Seattle any longer.”

“At least get some sleep first. Please, Bella? “

“No, I -”

I spotted Edward’s letter lying crumpled by the window. I made a move to pick it up, but Jake beat me to it.

“If you don’t give me the letter, I will never speak to you again,” I said through a clenched jaw.

Jake scrambled to his feet and held the hand clasping the letter out the window.

“Go back to bed and sleep for a few hours, and we’ll talk over lunch. Then I’ll give it back,” he bartered.

“No deal, Jake. Give it to me,” I demanded, holding out my hand.

He shook his head, holding his hand further out the window.

“You’re not thinking straight, Bella. If I let you leave now, you’ll end up getting hurt somehow, and I couldn’t live with myself if you did!”

“Just give me the freaking letter, dammit!” I cried, and threw myself at him, wrestling with him to try and save the letter from his grasp.

He stumbled back against the window, half hanging out as I leaned over him, grabbing at his extended arm and fighting to open his clenched fist.

Then everything suddenly began to move in slow motion. I watched as Jake’s fingers released the letter, the priceless, worn piece of paper catching in the early morning breeze and fluttering from his fingertips out into the open air, then slowly, like a leaf falling from a tree, it twisted and flipped down to the street below, rising and falling gracefully as small gusts of wind ensnared and released it.

A strangled, banshee-like scream echoed into the early morning air (it wasn’t until hours later that I realized that sound had come from me), and I tore myself away from the window and through the house until I got outside to the street, my eyes scanning every which way for the familiar piece of paper. I couldn’t see it anywhere. I ran up and down the street, scrambling behind trashcans and letterboxes and cars, making way too much noise for six o’clock in the morning and disturbing the neighbors, but with no luck.

I had lost the letter. Edward’s final words of love and affection. Gone.

Jacob had lost the letter. I was going to kill him.

During my frantic hunt, Jake had made his way down onto the street too. He stood out front of the house in just a pair of boxer shorts, looking like a dog that had lost his bone. He reached out to me as I walked towards the house, but I ignored him and walked straight up to the front door. I headed straight back up to the bedroom, picking the suitcase up off the floor and tipping the contents onto the bed, before throwing it back on the floor and proceeding to empty all of Jake’s belongings from the cupboard into it.

I heard Jake come stumbling back into the room, breathing heavily from running up the stairs. Having him this close to me only fuelled my anger.

“Bells, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- what are you doing?” he breathed. “Why are you-?”

“Get the hell out of my house, Jacob. Now!” I screamed, slamming the lid of the suitcase closed and shoving it at him. “Take your things and just go!”

“But Bella-”

“GET OUT!”

Of course, he chose that moment to freeze up like a freaking statue in the middle of my bedroom. Out of all the times I’d wished for it …

I picked up the suitcase and dragged it out of the room, the clunk clunk clunk of it hitting the steps on the way down to the front door felt oddly satisfying, but did little to ease the fire raging inside me.

I got to the front door and tossed the suitcase as hard as I could out onto the street. As it hit the pavement, the latch sprung open and the contents flew out everywhere. Serves him right, after what he did to me.

I spun around as Jake came stumbling down the stairs, mouth agape and staring at me in disbelief.

“Bells, please, don’t do this,” he pleaded, reaching towards me. “We can-”

“GET THE HELL OUT! NOW!” I screamed, dodging his advances while still forcing him out the door. I knew quite a few of the neighbors had come out by now to see what all the commotion was, but I didn’t care. As soon as Jake was on the doorstep, he turned to me in a final attempt to appease me.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” he asked in anguish.

“Because you’re not him,” I said quietly, my face expressionless. Then I slammed the door in his face.

Turning my back to the door, I fell against it, slid to the floor, and let the tears and grief take over me.

***

The sound of the telephone ringing roused me from my fitful slumber. As I pushed myself up off the floor, I looked around me and realized I had fallen asleep against the front door.

Then it all came rushing back. The argument with Jacob, the letter, throwing Jacob out …

Oh my god. The letter!

I felt my heart wrench at the thought of it.

The telephone continued to ring, temporarily distracting me from the horrible direction my thoughts were turning. I staggered into the kitchen and towards the bench where the cordless phone was docked. Picking it up, I answered groggily, “Hello?”

“Bella! What are you doing? We’re all waiting for you so we can start lunch! It’s almost two o’clock.” Alice’s chipper voice echoed through the receiver.

I looked up at the kitchen clock to find that it was indeed one fifty-three in the afternoon. I had been asleep by the door for over six hours.

“I, um … Alice, I’m sorry. I-”

“Bella, is everything okay? You don’t sound very well,” Alice commented, a hint of concern in her voice.

Taking a deep breath and willing myself not to start crying, I replied, “No, I’m fine, Alice. I’m just running a little behind. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You all go ahead and start without me; I’m not feeling very hungry anyway.”

There was a pause. I could picture the stern look on Alice’s face through the phone.

“Are you sure? We can wait for you. Emmett won’t die of starvation if he has to wait another twenty minutes.”

Tears threatened to fall as I listened to Alice’s concern, and I could feel the lump in my throat swelling as I tried to suppress them.

“I’m sure. You can’t keep Emmett waiting, not when there’s food around.”

Alice sighed. “All right. But don’t be too long, okay?”

“I won’t,” I replied, my voice cracking slightly. “Bye, Alice.”

“Bye, Bella. See you soon.”

I heard the click on the other end of the line to tell me that Alice had hung up. Pressing the ‘end’ button on the handset, I sat it back down on its charging dock and let my head and shoulders slump down on the bench beside it.

A few lone tears escaped, sliding slowly over my cheeks as I thought about the lunch gathering that awaited me. Last year, the Cullens had decided that we would all spend the anniversary of Edward’s death having a family lunch at Carlisle and Esme’s house, followed by story-swapping and reminiscing over Edward’s life. Feeling that it had helped heal them that little bit more, it was agreed that we would make it an annual thing. So now, every year on the anniversary of his death, we would all get together over lunch and celebrate Edward’s life, not dwell on his death.

After the morning I’d had, celebrating my dead fiancé’s life with his family was the last thing I wanted to do. However, I knew they would all be devastated if I didn’t make an appearance, especially Esme.

So it was with a heavy heart that I forced myself upstairs and into the bathroom to get myself ready to put on a happy front.

Twenty minutes later I found myself walking up the same set of steps I had on this day two years previously, only this time I knew in advance exactly where Edward was. The thought of that made what I was about to do seem that bit more impossible.

I had just raised my fist to knock on the door when it swung open before me, Alice and Emmett both wearing identical grins as they rushed out to pull me into a bone-crushing hug.

“We almost thought you’d run out on us, Bella!” Emmett boomed, ruffling my hair. “I swear, if you’d taken any longer, I would’ve come around to your place and raided your cupboards before forcing you to make me lunch. I’m starving!”

I looked to Alice questioningly. “I told you to start without me!”

Alice held her hands up before herself in defense. “I did tell them that, but Mom insisted we wait for you. She wasn’t going to let us start without you here.”

“You really didn’t have to-”

“Nonsense,” Esme said, walking up to stand behind Alice and Emmett. “You know we don’t start family lunches until everyone is present! Now come inside, everyone’s waiting.”

Alice and Emmett ran inside as Esme pulled me into her motherly embrace.

“I’m glad you made it, Bella. I know how hard today is for you. I’m always here if you need to talk about it. You don’t have to do it alone,” she whispered, pulling back slightly to look me in the eyes. She tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, smiling warmly at me.

“Thank you, Esme,” I choked, feeling the tears well up again.

She led me inside to the dining room, where the rest of the family was waiting. Carlisle rose from his seat at the head of the table to greet me, pulling me into a hug and smiling his familiar dazzling smile at me. Jasper also greeted my in the way of a hug, while Rosalie smiled at me from her seat at the table, her hands resting on her swollen, seven months pregnant stomach.

Once Esme and Alice had brought all the food to the table and everyone was seated, Carlisle popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and passed it around the table for us all to pour ourselves a glass, Rosalie, of course, forgoing the champagne for water.

Around the table, everyone sat in pairs; Carlisle sat at the head of the table with Esme to his right. To his left sat Alice, Jasper and Rosalie, with Emmet at the foot of the table. I sat on Esme’s right, with an empty place setting between Emmett and myself.

An empty place setting towards which Carlisle held his glass of champagne and began to speak.

“Two years may have passed without your presence, my son, but your spirit lives on within each and every one of us, gracing our lives with twenty-one years worth of memories every day. We love you and miss you dearly, and pray that, wherever you are, you’re at peace.”

Carlisle raised his glass and said, “To Edward.”

Everyone else followed suit, mumbling, “To Edward,” before taking a drink from their glasses.

I couldn’t handle it. Sitting next to an empty setting meant for Edward was exactly the kind of thing I never wanted to have to deal with, especially on a day like today.
I quickly excused myself and ran from the room before my sobs became too pronounced.

Without taking any notice of where I was running, I found myself standing in the middle of Edward’s old bedroom. I threw myself onto the bed and clutched the pillow to my chest, letting the tears run freely down my face.

A small set of arms wrapped around me and a hand began to stroke my hair soothingly. I turned into the familiar touch of Alice and felt all of the grief, anger and frustration of the day’s events begin to pour out.

“Alice, I – I can’t do this anymore! I c-can’t do this w-without Edward! How am I supposed to l-live w-without him?” I sobbed. “He’s my other h-half, h-he completes m-me … and n-now I – I don’t even h-have the letter, and J-Jake is gone … it was h-horrible, I was s-so a-angry and the letter … oh Alice, the l-letter …”

Alice pulled me closer and began to rock me back and forth, trying to comfort me in my distress. I was sub-consciously aware that everyone was watching from the doorway, but I was too much of a mess to acknowledge any of them.

“Oh, Bella,” Alice sighed, small tears of her own making tracks down her cheeks. “Bella, you’re not alone in this! It’s tough, I know it’s tough, but I’m here for you! We all are. You can do this. We can help you get through it.”

I shook my head wildly, loud sobs and moans of anguish echoing around the room.

“I can’t s-stay in Seattle anymore! I have to g-get a-away … everything – everything reminds me of h-him. Alice, I can’t stay!”

No one said anything; I just let Alice comfort me until my sobs died down and my tears ran dry.

The Luminous Benefactor

2010-03-02T05:59:00.000-08:00

Written for Snitchseeker's Harry and the HBP Ficlet Challenge 2005

“The myth of the Half-Blood Prince is well known throughout the Wizarding world,” Hermione read from Great Wizarding Myths. “Otherwise known as the Luminous Benefactor, it is said that the Half-Blood Prince is the good within the evil, the light within the darkness. His powers are beyond that of the entire Wizarding population of England, the full extent of his magical ability unknown. Although no image of his appearance has ever been recorded, he has been described as an auburn-haired wizard of pureblood descent.”

Hermione’s voice faded as she read the last sentence.

“It appears that, after a certain age, the spirit of the Prince removes itself from its current host’s body and finds a suitable teenage wizard for its next host.”

Harry and Hermione stared open-mouthed at Ron.

“What?” he asked quizzically. “Hang on…you think it’s me? No way! I mean…I can’t be. I’m a-”

“Auburn-haired, pureblood, teenage wizard.”

Prologue

2010-03-02T05:58:00.000-08:00

I walked up the front path to the porch of Carlisle and Esme’s house to find my soon-to-be brother- and sister-in-law sitting on the porch swing overlooking the garden. As I approached the house, I noticed that something seemed to be lacking in their normal personalities; Emmett sat with his arms wrapped around Alice’s small frame, while she rested her head on his shoulder, both of them silent and staring at nothing.

I climbed up the steps and across the wooden slats of the porch, coming to a stop in front of the porch swing. I leaned back against the railing behind me and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

Neither of them even blinked at my arrival. I wondered what had them both so unhinged; I had never seen either of them in a state anywhere near their current ones. It had me slightly unnerved.

“Hello, Earth to Emmett and Alice,” I said waving my hands in front of their faces.

A flicker of recognition in their eyes appeared to bring them back to the present. Something extremely odd was going on.

“Hey Bella,” Emmett mumbled, rising mechanically from the swing and pulling me into a hug. It could have been my imagination, but I swear his hug was more forceful than usual. I think I heard my ribs crack.

Was that a tear I felt drop on my shoulder? As Emmett pulled away from me, I scanned his face for any sign of tear tracks. There didn’t appear to be any, but his eyes did look a little red and puffy. Had he been crying? Maybe he was just tired. That must be it … he and Alice must have had a late night last night and were feeling the effects of it today. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But still … their behavior irked me.

Emmett returned to his seat beside Alice as I walked over to her, giving her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before returning to my spot against the railing.

“Are you guys okay?” I asked. “You don’t look too good.”

Alice opened her mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail her. She shook her head and kept her gaze glued to the floor. It was then that I noticed she hadn’t made eye contact with me since I’d arrived. Come to think of it, neither had Emmett.

“Okay, seriously, what is going on? You look like someone died.”

A small gasp escaped from Alice.

“Oh my- Carlisle and Esme? Did something happen to them? Is that why you’re here?” I asked, my mind going into overdrive, all thoughts saturated with worry.

Emmett shook his head, saying, “No! No, they’re both okay. Well, as okay as-”

“Oh thank goodness!” I exclaimed, letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You scared me for a minute there. I’m actually glad you’re both here. I came to see your parents, but you’ll probably be more help to me. Have you heard from Edward, or do you know where he is? We were supposed to meet for dinner after we’d both finished classes last night, but he didn’t show up. I thought maybe he got caught up with a professor or some classmates, but when he didn’t come home at all last night, or return any of my messages, I started to get a little worried. The last time he didn’t come home was when you and Jasper took him out after exams and got him so drunk he couldn’t remember his own name, Emmett.”

Alice made a small noise that sounded like a sob. I looked at Emmett, worried. He avoided my gaze, but shuffled over on the swing a little to make room for another person.

“Bella, you might want to sit down.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you. Can one of you please tell me what’s going on?” I demanded. “You’re both acting so strange.”

Emmett looked up suddenly, and as his eyes connected with mine, I felt a jolt of fear run through me. His eyes were so lifeless, dark and empty. It was a haunting look, one I hoped never to see again. It scared me.

With a shaky sigh, Emmett got to his feet and took my small hands in his own bear-like paws.

“Bella … Edward … he’s … Edward’s dead.”

I gaped at him, my mouth hanging open, for an immeasurable amount of time.

“What?”

My brain was trying to process Emmett’s words. Edward was … dead? No, I mustn’t have heard him right. I’d only just seen him not even twenty-four hours ago.
Suddenly, a fit of giggles overtook me. Alice looked up at me with a look of horror on her face.

“Ha! You’re good Emmett. You nearly had me going for a minute there,” I gasped, the giggles becoming uncontrollable. “Seriously, you couldn’t have come up with something more original? That was a poor effort, even for your standards. I must admit though, your acting skills have really improved a heap since your last prank. Now come on, where is he really?”

Emmett gripped my hands tighter, his eyes boring into mine.

“I wasn’t joking, Bella.”

My giggles began to rapidly decrease at the realization that Emmett was being serious. I turned my stare to Alice for confirmation. She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands, her small frame shaking with the power of her sobs.

I pulled my hands out of Emmett’s grasp as though burned.

“No, I – I don’t believe you,” I said, stepping back from him.

“Bella-”

I shook my head, feeling tears prick behind my eyes. I wouldn’t believe it. Edward couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t!

“No, Emmett! You’re lying! Edward’s not … he’s not … he can’t be!” I choked, the tears now welling in my eyes and threatening to spill over. “I only just saw him yesterday morning! He made me breakfast, and he drove me to class, he kissed me goodbye … he can’t be dead ...”

The slight constriction that had started tugging at my chest when I first realized that Edward had not returned home last night was now crushing me from the inside out. I couldn’t breathe; it felt like my lungs were being flattened.

I was vaguely aware that I had fallen to my knees and was gripping onto the railing for support. Emmett was still standing where I had left him, tears now cascading down his cheeks.

“How?” I managed to choke out.

Emmett took a tentative step toward me, a look of pure agony masking all traces of the man I knew. This made my chest constrict even more, if that were possible. I could feel the tears streaming down my face as sobs wracked my body. I was falling to pieces.

“He- the- the charred remains of his Volvo were found on the back road from your house to the university early this morning. He must have lost control of the car and hit a tree. The car … it exploded on impact. There wasn’t much – there wasn’t much left, Bella.”

I distantly heard a horrible cry of agony, and then realized it had come from me.

Edward …

His beautiful face, those stunning emerald eyes, his smile … all gone.

“But he drives a Volvo!” I screamed, “A Volvo! One of the safest … It can’t have been him, Emmett! It just couldn’t! He never would have lost control … he can’t be … Edward ... no, Edward! We’re getting married! He made me wear this ridiculous ring …”

I tore at my finger, trying to get the damn thing off. He had insisted on giving me his great-grandmother’s engagement ring, one of his most precious family heirlooms, and I was constantly paranoid that I was going to lose it or break it, or damage it somehow … and now that’s exactly what I wanted to do. I didn’t ever want to see it again.

I kept pulling at it, tears blurring my vision, but I couldn’t get it off. I felt two sets of arms wrap around me, and then all the energy in my body just disappeared. I fell into Emmett’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably, my constricted chest now being torn apart as my heart was ripped out from within it.

“Edward ...” I moaned.

Then everything went black.

Closer Than Close

2010-03-02T05:43:00.000-08:00

Written for Snitchseeker's Half-Blood Prince Drabble Competition 2005

“‘The Half-Blood Prince is closer than you think.’ What did he mean by that?” Ron asked, perplexed. He and Harry sat on their beds in the Dormitory, Hermione pacing up and down between them.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think, Hermione?”

There was silence while the brunette witch pondered the statement.

“Closer than you think…He must mean someone at Hogwarts. But who? There are hundreds of half-bloods here…”

Harry scanned the room, trying to picture every half-blood Hogwarts student he could. His eyes crossed over his fellow Gryffindor’s beds. Neville…no, he’s a pure blood…Dean…muggle-born.

“Seamus…” he whispered.

Idée Fixe

2010-03-02T05:16:00.000-08:00

Written for the January Support Stacie Auction winning bidder missryss.

Idée Fixe [ee – dey feeks]
- noun
1. a fixed idea; an obsession
2. a usually delusional idea that dominates the whole mental life during a prolonged period (as in certain mental disorders) called also fixed idea

_______________~*~_______________

Claustrophobia [klaw – struh – foh – bee – uh]
- noun
an abnormal fear of being in enclosed or narrow spaces

Agoraphobia [ag – er – uh – foh – bee – uh ]
- noun
1. an abnormal fear of being in crowds, public places, or open areas, sometimes accompanied by anxiety attacks
2. an abnormal fear of being helpless in a situation from which escape may be difficult or embarrassing that is characterized initially often by panic or anticipatory anxiety and finally by avoidance of open or public places

_______________~*~_______________

Bella

It was too small. His office was everything wrong with therapy for my condition. The ten-by-ten foot room would not be so confining if it was empty. Instead, the doctor had filled it up with filing cabinets, a desk so large that I could not even work out how they had managed to get it into the room in the first place, two oversized armchairs that looked luxuriously comfortable but in reality were as hard as stone, pale blue blinds that darkened the room and made it appear even smaller, and frame after frame after frame of certificates and credentials that no one ever bothered to read covered the walls. Oh, and those damn plastic pot plants. The large plastic palm in the corner opposite the door, the vases of plastic tropical flowers on the filing cabinets that were more than overstuffed with the bright colored dust-collectors, and the wall-mounted pots that housed plastic creepers and vines of ivy. Then there was the clutter on his desk. The family photos, the collection of kindergarten-style hand-made macaroni pen holders, overflowing document trays, gum wrappers, empty take-away coffee cups …

This doctor needed to take a few lessons in “Dealing with Office Clutter and the Effect it has on Your Patients” before he tried to “fix” me. Did he even know the definition of Claustrophobia? Did he have any idea on how to treat Claustrophobics? It certainly did not involve trapping them in a tiny, cluttered office. He was just asking for me to launch into one of my uncontrollable panic attacks.

I found the sessions with him to be completely pointless. I knew where my Claustrophobia had stemmed from; that was not the problem. All he was doing was asking me meaningless questions that did nothing to help me overcome my phobia.

It was clear that he had not experienced a panic attack before. Or suffered from any kind of phobia. If he had, he would not ask me the questions he did. If he thought that I could think clearly enough to answer his questions in his broom-closet of an office, he was sorely mistaken. I was on the verge of a panic attack every time I stepped foot inside it, so focusing on my breathing tended to be my main priority.

The second that I got to step out of his office was always the best second of my life. The weight of my phobia lifted, and suddenly I could breathe again.

The waiting room had grown to become one of my favourite places. It was one of the few rooms indoors that I could handle entering; it was not too small, it was not too cluttered. It was simple but perfect. The uniform plastic chairs lining the white walls, the coffee tables containing neat, orderly stacks of magazines, and the pastel-colored paintings on the walls created a light, soothing atmosphere. The receptionist always had a vase of fresh flowers sitting atop her desk. There was the calming sound of soft classical music playing in the background.

It was perfect. And so was he.

He was always sitting there when I arrived. In the same plastic chair, by the same tidy coffee table, with the same perfect posture, and the same messy bronze hair …

He was why I even bothered with these appointments anymore. He had helped me in more ways than therapy ever could. The doctor thought that she was the one who had made progress when I begrudgingly informed her of a new obstacle I had overcome, but it was not true. It’s all him. Everything.

Because the waiting room was his sanctuary too. It was the one place where we both felt like we could be ourselves. We both understood each other, how difficult life could be with our conditions. Most would think that our relationship would be an impossible one with our conflicting phobias, that we would struggle to find a balance or a middle ground.

It was a misjudgement that no one else understood. The waiting room was our middle ground and we had a lot more in common than anyone would think.

We did not just have difficult conditions. We had each other. We had support.

We had every Thursday at two-fifteen.

_______________~*~_______________

Edward

It was too dangerous. Too cluttered. There was so much that could happen to me in the doctor’s office. I could get tangled up in the beaded curtain that hung in the door frame, or the vast number of framed certificates and credentials could fall off the wall and knock me out, or the weird glass statues could fall off the filing cabinets and smash everywhere … not to mention, if there was a fire and I had to try and escape through the windows, I could trip over the unconventional bean bag chairs and get caught up in the blinds.

The doctor’s office was a death trap. She was constantly adding more clutter to it too. More safety hazards in the confined space. More opportunities for me to get trapped, or injured, or even suffer a long and painful death.

The place made me go into panic mode every time I stepped foot inside. My skin would get clammy, I would break out in a cold sweat, I would start hyperventilating, my heart would start racing, my limbs would get uncontrollably shaky … it was not a pleasant experience. I was not sure how the doctor planned to help me overcome my Agoraphobia in a place that terrified me so much that I could barely focus on my breathing, let alone what specifics of the situation freaked me out the most.

I found the appointments absolutely pointless. She didn’t help me one bit. I could barely comprehend anything she said to me during the onset of my anxiety attacks, and the times where I was calm enough to try and absorb her words, it all sounded like high-pitched fairy gibberish. I gained more from sitting in the waiting room than I did in her office.

The waiting room. My personal heaven.

My brunette angel.

I remembered the first day she walked through the double glass doors, all flushed and harried and wind-swept. She had blown in like a tornado, her long brown curls flying around her face as she ran up to the reception desk all breathless and muttering apologies for her tardiness.

She had muttered curses under her breath as the receptionist informed her that the doctor was running behind, so she wasn’t, in fact, late at all.

In a huff she had sat down opposite me, grumbling about the public transport and waste of time and other things that I couldn’t quite make out.

In her flushed, unkempt state, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.

She was perfect. Bella.

She became my sole reason for returning to the Office of Death each week. Without her, I would have given up on therapy altogether. She became my therapy. She helped me in ways no professional ever could.

And I would gladly keep paying the extortionate amount of money to someone who really didn’t deserve it, just so long as I got to see her, talk to her, hear her voice, hold her hand...

She was my guiding light in the darkness of my phobia, the cure to my anxiety attacks. She made those few minutes in Waiting Room Heaven, before my hour of Death Trap Office hell, bearable.

Bella was the only one who understood just how difficult my life was. She didn’t judge me or laugh at me when I confessed my fears. I found myself craving her understanding and calming presence in every aspect of my life.

I hated that our time together was so fleeting. Our Thursday sessions were not enough.

I wanted more.

______________~*~______________

Thursday January 7^th, 2010

_____________~*~_____________

Bella

Today’s date may not have meant much to most people. My friends were completely unaware of any significance it held for me. My doctor certainly didn’t know that there was anything noteworthy about it. Even my cat was clueless, though I had done nothing but fill my quiet apartment with mindless chatter about it for the past week.

I wasn’t even sure if he knew. I knew that it was likely that I was making more of it than I should have been, yet I couldn’t help the small bubble of excitement in my chest that thought maybe, just maybe he was as ridiculously elated as I was.

It was six months today. Six months since I had first stumbled into the waiting room, late for my new scheduled appointment time; a new appointment time that had since become my reason for getting out of bed in the morning.

I looked at my watch. Eight forty-three. Five hours and thirty-two minutes until I would see Edward again. Five hours and thirty-two minutes until our twenty-fifth meeting. Five hours and thirty-two minutes that I had to fill with something attention-grabbing enough to distract me. The wait was surely going to kill me.

I sighed.

_______________~*~_______________

Edward

I was almost certain that I was dreaming. No, not dreaming. Having a nightmare. There was no way that I could be awake so unnecessarily early on such an important day.

The red numbers on my alarm clock glared fiercely back at me as I blinked groggily at them. Five-sixteen. It was five-sixteen in the morning. My alarm was not even due to sound until eight o’clock. What the hell was I doing awake at five-sixteen?

I groaned and rolled back over in bed, crushing my pillow over my face.

I tossed.

I turned.

I counted sheep.

I could not get back to sleep. No matter how hard I tried, I just could not shut my brain off.

Five twenty-seven. Eight hours and forty-eight minutes.

I rolled onto my left side.

Five thirty-nine. Eight hours and thirty-six minutes.

I tossed to my right.

Five forty-two. Eight hours and thirty-three minutes.

I turned onto my back. I sighed. Sleep was clearly avoiding me in my state of overexcited nerves. It was just what I needed today; to turn up looking like I belonged in a film of the walking dead.

I looked at the clock once more. Five fifty-eight. Time was passing at such a slow rate, it seemed as though fate had it in for me today. No, the wait between my once a week meetings with my angel was not enough to make me suffer; on the one day that meant so much to me, I was forced to endure the cruel dragging of the hands of time.

I glared at the angry numbers and threw my covers back, running my hands through my hair in frustration as I sat up on the edge of my bed.

What the hell was I supposed to do to fill in the next eight hours and seventeen minutes?

_______________~*~_______________

Bella

One fifty-four. I shifted nervously from foot to foot, wringing my hands as I hovered outside the double glass doors that I normally could not wait to burst through.

Was I too early? Would he even be here yet? I did not usually arrive until around two-ten. Even though I did not have to be there until two fifteen, the standard fifteen minutes before my scheduled appointment time, he was always there when I arrived. Always.

Would he be here now?

The morning had dragged by like a sandbag through water. Everything I attempted to distract myself with was soon abandoned. My mind could not focus on anything other than Edward. The way the natural highlights in his hair would shine in the bright fluorescent lighting of the waiting room. The sound of his deep laugh when I said something that he found amusing. The way his eyes would light up the second I came into his line of sight. The feel of his hand as he held mine in an attempt to help me ward off a panic attack. The musky scent of his cologne. The way he said my name.

Everything about him had flooded my mind, making it futile to even bother attempting anything productive.

That was how I found myself standing apprehensively outside the clinic in the bitter frostiness. If I went in now, and he wasn’t there, the disappointment I would feel would be incalculable. However, if I went in now and he was there, what would he think of me? Would he think that my early arrival was pathetic desperation to see him again? Would he feel as though I was imposing on his alone time; in his sanctuary?

Would he be excited to see me?

I took a step closer to the doors and my stomach flipped. I couldn’t do this to myself any longer. The suspense was killing me. Plus, I could feel my bones seizing up in the frigid air. Taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, I balled my hands into determined fists and marched through the doors.

_______________~*~_______________

Edward

I was pathetic. Here I was sitting in my regular chair in the waiting room an hour before my scheduled appointment. The receptionist had not said a word when I walked through the door a whole half hour earlier than normal. She didn’t need to; her knowing smile said it all.

Bella probably wasn’t even aware of the significance of today’s date. After all, she did not come across as the type of girl who went crazy over these kinds of things. She wasn’t a girly girl who obsessed over her appearance or what other people thought of her. She was just … cool. She carried on with life in her own way, at her own pace, and didn’t let the small things get to her. She was of the mind that life was too short to waste obsessing over making yourself into someone else, or to let a phobia rule your life. So she didn’t.

I, on the other hand, was not so optimistic. I frequently succumbed to the soul-sucking downward spiral of my phobia, and I hated it. I was constantly questioning my actions and spoken words. My thoughts constantly revolved around the opinion of others, making life a hell of a lot more depressing and stressful than it should be, especially with the phobia I was relentlessly battling.

I guessed that was why I was freaking out about today so much. I over analyzed everything. I always counted down the days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds until I next got to see her. Always.

I was willing to bet that she couldn’t even say how many times we had seen each other since that first Thursday six months ago. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

Was she?

To her, today was probably just another regular Thursday. Nothing special. We weren’t even … we were just … were we friends? I could not even classify our relationship. There was nothing conventional about it. We had spent a total of three hundred and sixty minutes together. That was a total of six hours. In six months.

That barely qualified us as friends, let alone anything more.

And yet, those three hundred and sixty minutes seemed like a lifetime. I knew more about Bella than I did about any of my other friends, and I normally spent more time with them in a single day than I had with Bella the entire time I had known her.

I really was pathetic.

I sighed and closed the heavy tome that I had brought with me to help pass the time. It was not as if I was reading it anyway. It had sat open on the same page in my lap for the last twenty-four minutes while my mind had obsessed over Bella.

Then the object of my thoughts burst through the double glass doors.

I glanced at my watch. She was early.

My heart stopped for a split second. She was … she was early. That both excited and scared the hell out of me. I was going to be asking her to join me for coffee after our appointments today. Except I couldn’t work out how I was going to ask her. And now she was here, in all her breathtaking beauty, and I had no time to come up with a way to ask her.

My heartbeat began to beat me senseless at her sudden appearance. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold outside and the hair that had escaped from her woollen winter hat was hanging wild around her face, the deep chocolate curls in beautiful contrast to the strawberry and cream skin.

Her eyes connected with mine the second she stepped through the doors, and she smiled at me. In that second, I felt all the worry and nerves melt away.

She was here.

_______________~*~_______________

Bella

He was here. In our usual spot, in his usual chair, in all his usual stunning attractiveness, he was here.

Furthermore, he looked excited to see me, despite my early arrival.

I began to close the distance between us, trying not to appear too eager. His eyes twinkled and his smile grew wider with every step I took. I felt my own lips stretching into what was probably a ridiculous grin, but I had no control over it. I didn’t care. He was happy to see me. That was all that mattered.

I lowered myself into my usual chair to the left of his.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” I breathed in response. His hand stole into mine and the warmth of his skin sent shivers down my spine.

“You’re early,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry.” My smile faltered. Was he not as excited to see me as I thought?

“Don’t be. Your earliness is by no means unwelcome. Any extra time I get to spend with you is worth more than words can express. Please don’t apologize. You have no reason to.”

My breath hitched in my chest.

“Bella, would you be opposed to spending more time with me? Outside of this waiting room?”

I felt my cheeks heat up with the intensity of my mixed inner reactions to his words. His words caused excitement, embarrassment, panic, and a multitude of other emotions to course through me.

Did he know what today symbolized? Had he also counted the months? Calculated the days, the hours, the minutes?

My thoughts ran unbridled through my mind, tearing me up inside. His question opened up so many avenues for the development of our currently undefined relationship.

Realizing that I had not yet responded to his question, I smiled at him.

“I would love nothing more.”

_______________~*~_______________

Edward

Doubts started to fill my mind as her silence extended, the look of shock on her face causing all previous feelings of confidence to flee from my body. Her apparent excitement to see me had made mine for her triple, and her blush I had taken as a positive sign. I had decided to approach her about spending more time together before I lost my nerve.

Had I made a mistake?

“I would love nothing more.”

Her smile washed all traces of doubt from my mind. Her positive answer generated a new wave of confidence within me, and the words I had earlier thought I would struggle with came flowing out effortlessly.

“You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that,” I grinned. “I know of this café not too far from here that would make both of us feel comfortable. It isn’t too big, nor is it too small, and it has very little in the way of clutter. It also has a very small clientele, so neither of us should feel uncomfortable or threatened there in any way. Would you care to join me for a coffee there after our appointments?”

“That sounds perfect,” she replied, her voice sounding slightly breathless. Her cheeks still held a tinge of colour, and her chest was rising and falling at a somewhat increased pace. She was truly mesmerizing.

We sat in content silence for a few moments, our gaze fixed on each other. I was trying to wrap my head around what this afternoon’s meeting meant for our future. No longer would I have to wait the agonizing seven days until our next encounter. We could make plans to meet elsewhere outside the clinic’s waiting room on a Monday or a Tuesday, or even on the weekend. Every day of the week was now open to us to explore together.

It would not be easy, but we would find a way to occupy each other’s presence in places that would not affect our conflicting phobias. I would not let my phobia ruin this for me. I may have let it overpower me in the past, but not anymore. Bella was too important to me.

As long as I had her, I could battle the demons inside me. And win.

_______________~*~_______________

Bella

Excitement coursed through my veins. Yes, it was just coffee – for today. For the rest of my life, however, it was much more. The coffee was just a start. Coffee could lead to lunch, which could then lead to dinner, movie nights, vacations … the possibilities of this new aspect to our relationship were becoming endless.

Sure, it would be difficult at first. Finding places where we could both be comfortable and not be in fear of panic or anxiety attacks would take careful planning and research. Edward had obviously been planning this coffee date for a while now if he taken the liberty and care to make sure that we would both be free from worry in the café.

This thought made my heart ache in all the right ways. I was still trying to process the fact that he wanted to spend more time with me, and in a location that had no relevance at all to our therapy.

As time went on, spending time together was bound to get easier. We had already helped each other so much, we were both finding that places or situations we found ourselves in that had previously affected us no longer evoked such strong reactions in us. Over time, we could hopefully organise to meet in places without having to think too much about the affects they would have on us.

I don’t think we would ever be completely cured of our phobias, but I felt that, as long as we had each other, we could overcome all obstacles they threw at us.

“Bella, Doctor Hebbs is ready to see you now, and Edward, you can make your way down to Doctor Rastrelli’s office,” the receptionist informed us from her behind her desk, snapping us out of our comfortable silence.

Edward began to rise from his chair, his hand still clasping mine. Following his lead, I too got to my feet and we walked side-by-side down the hall.

We reached the point in the hallway where we would part ways and paused. Edward reached his free hand out and tucked a stray lock of my hair behind my ear - something he had never done before. His hand gently caressed my cheek as it retreated back to his side and he smiled warmly at me. My stomach flipped at the new sensations.

“See you in an hour,” he whispered.

I squeezed his hand and smiled back at him.

“See you in an hour,” I confirmed.

With one last moment to savor the connection we shared through the joining of our hands, we slowly broke the bond, our hands slipping away from each other until our barely touching fingertips disconnected. We parted, each headed towards our respective doctors’ offices.

As I wandered down the rest of the way to Doctor Hebbs’s office, I couldn’t help the thought that nothing, not even spending the next pointless hour with my clutter collector of a doctor, could wipe the smile from my face.

As long as I had Edward in my life, everything would be bearable. Darkened cinemas, crowded house parties, cluttered doctors’ offices … my phobia would become manageable, a mere hint of a shadow pushed away to the dark recesses of my mind.

As long as I had Edward in my life, everything would be wonderful.

Without a Window

2010-03-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

Ficlet for Snitchseeker's Common Witch/Wizard Competition 2005

Confusion reigned the atmosphere of Hogwarts. What had been the calm, peaceful energy of the end of exams quickly turned into every witch and wizards nightmare.

Voldemort had struck and the battle had begun.

Bright jets of light were being shot in every direction, the spells contained within causing harm to their target or rebounding off trees and the castle walls, disintegrating into thin air. The air was filled with the screams of children running for safety, of terror as the injured feared for their lives, and of pain as death claimed the lives of the innocent. It was chaos.

Most of the professors were outside fighting the Death Eaters, and Order members were beginning to show up, heading straight into battle on their arrival. The only students left were the members of the DA, fighting bravely against the enemy and putting all of the skills Harry taught them into practice.

Through all this, Sybill Trelawney sat in her office watching it all unfold beneath her, and yet there was no window in sight. The images her mind was seeing reflected exactly that of which was occurring a few hundred feet below her in the Hogwarts grounds.

Rigid in her chair and mouth hanging slack, Sybill was forced by her own powers to view the horrible scenes of war, unable to break free no matter what she tried. The trance held her tight, making sure she saw it all, knew it all, felt it all.

And feel it she did

Chapter Six - Planning Breakdown

2010-03-02T04:13:00.000-08:00

The dark movement in the City of Plovdiv gathered in a dungeon underneath the ruins of a large fortress-like structure; something the aurors had only just recently found out after a large attack on a muggle dwelling. A small team of aurors had secretly followed two members of the dark movement, who apparently thought they had escaped their odious mission unnoticed, to this building, which had been under close surveillance ever since.

Although every movement within and around the building had been recorded, Harry and Ron had wanted to inspect it for themselves. They knew that many important observations had gone unnoticed by the Bulgarian aurors, due to the fact that the Bulgarian component had not experienced anything on this level before and were therefore stripping themselves of information that could assist them in their mission to bring down the culprits. Having defeated Voldemort only a mere four years previously, and seeing how the current dark movement had evolved from Voldemort's reign, the best friends knew exactly what to look out for.

Voldemort's defeat had found most of the Death Eaters spending the remainder of their lives either in Azkaban or the ward in St. Mungo's for those who had received the Dementors Kiss. Their punishment had depended on the severity of their crimes. Lucius Malfoy and a select few others, for instance, had been sentenced to death after brutally slaughtering the entire population of a small muggle school. Even now, four years on, the country was still trying to recover from such a heinous act. Hundreds of lives had been sacrificed, and thousands more destroyed; whole families had been taken, while others tried to rebuild their lives without their children, parents or friends, and in some cases, all three.

This event had hit an extremely raw nerve inside Harry. His will to crush Voldemort once and for all was driven to such a point that it had only been a matter of days before the final battle had ensued and the dark movement was defeated.

The handful of Death Eaters who had managed to evade capture had fled, the majority escaping to Bulgaria, their homeland. It did not take long for the two with the most knowledge of Voldemort's power to take over; both had been in Voldemort's tightest inner circle and were eager to continue his work. The problem was, both wanted to be the most admired, the most dangerous, the most powerful. One could not do that with the threat of the other looming overhead, and so they had split and taken over separate parts of Plovdiv; one the City of Plovdiv, the other the Town of Asenovgrad. Ever since, both had been gradually weaving their paths of destruction through Plovdiv, sacrificing muggles and destroying whole settlements just to be the one on top.

The Bulgarian auror department considered themselves lucky that the situation had been discovered early, before the devastation escalated into Voldemort-sized proportions. Harry and Ron, however, were still worried. Both "Dark Lords" had immense knowledge of Voldemort's proceedings and had already gathered quite a number of supporters. This task was going to be much larger than what they had experienced back in London.

Hidden under invisibility cloaks and crouched behind bushes surrounding the ruins, Harry and Ron observed the location in silence. Ron grimaced as he shifted slightly to relieve some pressure off his legs; sharp pins and needles suddenly shot up them and he let out a small hiss.

Harry quickly looked to his right where he knew Ron was located.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Ron replied, finding a comfortable position. "Just been crouched here too long."

Harry nodded, forgetting Ron couldn't see him, and then said, "We've only got another six hours. Then we can head back and start forming our plan of attack. We've already discovered a few more things that the Bulgarian's missed, so that shouldn't be problem."

"It's lucky we're over here … they'd be stuffed without us. If there's not a hot meal waiting for us when we get back, I'm telling you now, there'll be hell to pay."

As if to emphasise his statement, a deep, rumbling growl came from Ron's stomach.

Harry chuckled softly before returning to the task at hand.

Around seven hours later, and after digesting a huge meal of Kebapcheta and fried potatoes, the two men were seated around the desk in their office at Bulgaria Headquarters, joined by Viktor Krum and his partner, Ivana Volkovich.

Ivana's arrival into the office had Harry and Ron shamefully in awe. The tall, slender, yet well built woman changed the atmosphere of every room she entered. The deep chocolate of her eyes was so piercing and observant that it was obvious she was not someone to mess with. However, putting those imposing factors aside, Ivana was considered to be one of the most attractive women in all of Bulgaria. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, a few wisps of a fringe resting gently above her eyes, giving her a look of importance and independence, but also casting a soft shadow over her prominent facial features. High, perfectly sculpted cheek bones and a soft, lusciously plump smile completed the vision of authority and stunning beauty.

She shook hands with both Harry and Ron before placing a gentle kiss on Viktor's cheek and seating herself beside him. The slight hint of a blush crept onto Viktor's cheek but soon disappeared as he began to speak.

"Ivana, Harry and Ron have observed the ruins for the past fifty-nine hours and have information that ve missed during our own observations. They are confident that ve now have enough to form a plan of attack," Viktor informed his partner.

Harry noticed that Viktor was gazing at Ivana with more than just professional partnership in his eyes, but pushed that to the back of his mind. He knew that Hermione would be interested to hear about it once he and Ron got home, but for now he had to focus on the task ahead.

"How is everything on your side, Ivana?" Ron asked, giving Harry a strange look.

Ivana smiled and said, "All is going excellently in Asenovovgrad. Kingsley Shacklebolt and his team have been very successful in their tasks so far. They still have a great deal of vork to do, however they have started vorking on small plans for different aspects of their attack and are almost ready to begin putting them together to form their overall plan. I vould say that they are at a similar stage to you."

"That's brilliant," Harry replied, "That means we should all be getting out of here soon."

Viktor nodded. "That vill be great for all of us. I am sure Hermione and Ginny are missing you very much."

Harry and Ron silently nodded, taking a short moment to think about their family back home. Ron couldn't wait to return to Hermione and welcome their child into the world. It was so close now; he desperately hoped she didn't go into labour while he was on this assignment.

"How are we going to go about this?" Ron asked, breaking the silence. He looked at the other occupants of the room, receiving a small smile from Harry and quickly returning it before concentrating on the information in front of them.

Viktor spread their findings out in front of them, along with a floor plan of the ruins and the dungeon underneath.

"First, we'll need to make sure we have as many of them in there as possible. We can't risk leaving too many free to sneak up behind us, or even run away as these ones did from London. We have to quash this movement as thoroughly as we can so that our efforts aren't wasted," explained Harry. "We also need to make sure they don't have an easy escape, but that we can get out of there quickly if needed."

He spread the floor plans out a little more and scanned them closely, tracing different paths with his finger.

"They gather mainly in this chamber here," he said, pointing to the spot on the parchment for his companions to see, "and use these entrances when entering and exiting the ruins. We can enter from either here or here without being detected in a hurry, then silently make our way down this tunnel here,"

Ron, Viktor and Ivana nodded in agreement. Ron reached out and added, "That hall off to the side there gives us a quick escape route in case we need it,"

"Yes, and entering through here leaves them trapped. If we came from the other direction, we wouldn't stand a chance."

"Vhat about that entrance there?" asked Viktor, indicating the spot on the floor plans. "If they come from there vile ve are in the tunnel, ve are in trouble."

Pursing his lips, Harry stared at the plans for a moment.

"We … what we need is bait. We have to send someone in there first, to be "captured" and then we make our move. Once they've got a hostage, they'll all be called to the main chamber. We'll then make our move and attack."

"What if they harm the person we use as bait before we get there?" Ron asked.

"We've got to execute this at the right time. There are no 'what ifs.' We don't have room for error in this situation. As it is, we'll only have a small margin of time to put this plan into action."

"Vhat do you mean?" asked Viktor, a puzzled expression on his face.

Harry shifted a few sheets of parchment on the desk before finding the one he was looking for and handed it to Viktor.

"These are the times we have seen them leave and enter the ruins over the last three days. A group of three always leaves at eight o'clock in the morning, returning shortly after at eight-fifteen. A larger group of five who leave at five-thirty promptly return at eight-forty. No outside movement is then seen until ten o'clock. It is only departures after that time, so between eight-forty and ten o'clock, we must assume that most, if not all, of the members are inside."

"So that's the time we have to execute the plan?"

Harry nodded to answer Ron. "If we don't do it then, we don't stand a chance."

Ivana shifted in her seat and looked towards the two men.

"So this person you vill use as bait …"

Harry closed his eyes and gently rubbed his temples. "I really don't want to put someone in that position, but it needs to be done. I just don't know who it will be," he said. "I would do it myself, but I want to make sure the rest of the plan goes how it should. I'd curse myself if I was in there playing helpless victim while everyone else was held at wand point in the tunnel by a bunch of slimy murderous gits."

Ron could tell that his best friend was distressed and sick of the whole situation, as was he, but there really was nothing else they could do. The sooner they put this plan into action, the sooner they could go home. That's all there was to it.

He sat a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

"I'll do it. I'll go in as bait and you can lead the rest of the team in after."

"No you bloody well won't!" Harry cried, rising suddenly from his chair. "What the hell do you think Hermione would do to me if she found out I offered you up as a diversion? She'd get me worse than any 'dark lord' ever could."

Ron got to his feet too and faced Harry. "Look, mate, that's all it'll be; a diversion. I'll go in, they'll think they've got the better of us, then BAM! In you come and we'll crush the bastards."

"No! Ron, I won't let you do it! I … I just won't." Harry slumped back down into his chair and let his head fall into his palms. "I need you beside me, Ron. I can't do this without you."

Ron felt his heart constrict as Harry's words reached his ears. Both knew how much they meant to each other, how much they relied on each other, but never felt the need to express it in words. Harry doing so was practically a plea; he was begging Ron not to leave him.

"Harry, I'd never leave you to deal with this on your own. I will always stand and fight with you, right by your side," he said fiercely, gripping Harry's shoulder firmly, "But who else do you know who will be able to handle that situation? No one on our team, that's for sure."

He knelt down in front of Harry and forced him to look up from his hands.

"I've been there, Harry, I can do it. You know I'm the only option. I'll handle the bait, you handle the rescue. We're partners, Harry, that's how we always do it. We will succeed, I know it. All my faith is with you; it always has been."

"I don't know how I'd survive if something happened to you," Harry choked, un-shed tears starting to sting his eyes.

Viktor rose from his chair and offered his hand to help Ivana up also.

"Ve have a few things to attend to, so ve shall leave you alone for a bit," said Viktor, leading Ivana towards the door. "Ve vill come back later to help finalise the plan."

Ron nodded at them in thanks and turned his attention back to Harry.

"If something happened to you before I could get there, I'd … I wouldn't be able to go on, Ron. You're my best mate, and you're practically my brother. Hell, you are my brother and have been for a long time. That's what makes things so much harder … if something happens to you, I won't just have to deal with my own guilt; I'll have your whole damn family plus Hermione to deal with too. They'd treat me just like one of them, and wouldn't put the blame on me, but deep down inside I'd always be on the outside."

"Harry, that's not true and you know it! You're just as much a Weasley as I am,"

"That's the thing! I'm not. When I'm with you and Ginny, and even the twins, yeah, I feel like I could be, but Hermione's more a Weasley than I am. She's actually part of the family; she has your surname, she's carrying a Weasley grandchild …"

Ron sighed with frustration and began to pace around the desk.

"Harry, what do I have to say to get it into your thick head? You are part of the family! You always have been, and if that's not enough for you, you'll be married into it soon if Ginny has any say in the matter."

"Ron, I -"

"Look, I don't want to hear another word about it, okay?" Ron said sternly, staring directly into Harry's eyes.

Harry fell to pieces right there. Sobs wracked his exhausted body and all the remaining strength he had in him dissipated.

Ron rushed over and wrapped his arm protectively around Harry's shoulders.

"Harry -"

"Ron, I can't lose you. I won't let you do it. Please don't do it … I know it won't end well for you, I can feel it," he sobbed, "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You were the first good thing to ever come into my life. You showed me what life is, that there's more to it than sleeping in a cupboard and playing slave to the Dursleys. Ron, I can't lose you!"

This was the first time Ron had ever seen Harry lose himself like this. Sure, he'd seen Harry fall apart a few rare times over the climax of the last war, but it had been nothing like this. Ron had no idea what to do, what to say, how to react … he just sat there with his arm around Harry's shoulders, letting his best friend fall to pieces beside him.

Harry's words had touched Ron so much that he couldn't speak, even if he had known what to say. He'd known that Harry's childhood up until Hogwarts had been stripped from him by the Dursleys, and his adolescence by Voldemort, but coming from a large family and not knowing anything but love, it was hard for Ron to even try to understand what Harry was feeling, let alone imagine what life growing up without his family would be like. If he lost Harry, there was no way his family would just leave him alone to deal with it and he knew it would be exactly the same if something happened to him. His family would treat Harry like one of their own; however, Harry refused to see that, no matter how many times they all said it. He was afraid of being hurt; of finally belonging somewhere, of knowing happiness and love, and then losing it all, just like he lost his own family …

That was something Ron could somewhat understand, and he wished he didn't. The horrible thought of losing his family and having nothing … it was the worst feeling in the world.

"Harry," Ron said after a while, "You're not going to lose me. And I'm not going to lose you, okay?"

Harry's sobs had calmed immensely, although he kept his head in his hands.

"I can't do this anymore, Ron. I'm not cut out for it. I'm tired and I just want to go home."

"That's what we're going to do. We're going to go in, do this, and then go home. Then you and I are going to quit this job and find new ones a little less dangerous and time-consuming. We've done enough fighting, Harry. You have done enough fighting. I mean, you've spent your whole life battling evil! It's time you got to do something else with your life," explained Ron lightly in an effort to raise Harry's spirits. "We can spend all day playing Quidditch! You can marry my sister, have some children and we'll spend our Sundays at The Burrow watching our children play with their other cousins … you deserve a peaceful life, not one chasing after these bloody power-driven gits."

"You're still not going in as bait," Harry replied, straightening up in his chair. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face in an attempt to freshen himself up a little. "We'll send someone else. We'll send anyone … I'm just not sending you."

"That's fine. Honestly, what ever you want, Harry."

Rising from his chair and walking around the desk, Harry quietly said, "I'm sorry for … for losing it like that."

"Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just can't take this anymore, Ron, all this stress and danger. You're right … when we get back, I'm giving Shacklebolt my resignation."

"We'll do it together. This is our last assignment, mate; in a few days we'll be done with this life and we can start afresh."

With that thought it mind, Harry's spirits lifted and he gave Ron a small smile of gratitude.

"So what are we going to do now? Who will we send?" Ron asked.

Harry absentmindedly shifted the parchment around the desk and said, "Let's get the team back here and see if any of them will volunteer. Otherwise we'll have to decide for them."

"Shall I go get Viktor and Ivana, and then summon the rest back here? Are you going to be okay to do this right now?"

"Yes, I'm all right. The sooner we get this done the better," replied Harry wearily.

Ron hesitated slightly, casting a worried glance at Harry, before nodding and heading towards the door.

"I'll be back soon."

***

"Right, since none of you have volunteered, we'll volunteer one of you ourselves," Ron explained, staring intently at each member of their group. Their group of six aurors had been joined by another twelve from Viktor's department, in order for them to be able to pull their plan off successfully.

Turning his gaze beside him to Harry and Viktor, he silently questioned them with his eyes. The trio stepped back from the group a little and huddled together to quickly discuss the situation.

"Send one of my men," Viktor whispered, "They are more familiar vith the area and the problem at hand than your team are. That leaves you free to instruct your entire team in the attack vithout vorrying about their safety."

"We'll still worry about the safety of your men though," Harry replied. "I'd hate to think something happened to one of your team because we stuffed up."

Ron sighed, "Harry, Viktor's right. His team are more knowledgeable on the situation and we stand a better chance of succeeding if one of them goes in first. I know you're worried, but we won't have any problems if we go in at the right time."

"No offence to your team, but my men are a lot stronger in build. Men here begin training at a very young age and continue it all their lives. Ve vill be better off if ve send one of my men in first."

Harry looked at Viktor and nodded. "You're right. Our team are nothing in physical strength compared to yours. So who do you feel the most comfortable about sending?"

Viktor scanned the group before them and pondered his decision for a moment.

"Stoev. He has been heavily involved vith this from the beginning and also assisted vith your defeat of Voldemort. He is the best on our team and vill be able to handle anything they might try on him."

"Stoev it is. Viktor, would you like to take it from here?" asked Ron.

Viktor nodded and the three returned to their positions in front of the group.

"Stoev," Viktor announced. "Ve have chosen you to enter the ruins first. Once this meeting is through, you vill remain here for debriefing of your task."

The man named Stoev remained silent, nodding his head once to confirm that he understood his orders.

"Are there any questions about the task ahead of us?" he continued, addressing the group in full. "No? Excellent, you are all dismissed. Go to your chambers and get some rest; you vill be needing it for tomorrow. Ve shall meet you back here at zero six hundred hours."

The group of seventeen began to murmur amongst themselves as they all exited the room. Harry, Ron and Viktor watched them all leave, most still unaware of how immense the task that lay ahead was. Stoev moved towards them, awaiting the details of his fate.

"Stoev, the task we are sending you on is the most important component of the execution of our plan," Harry began, "Just before the last group return at eight-forty tomorrow morning, you will enter the ruins as though you are observing the goings-on inside in order to report back to Headquarters. You will enter through the entrance they most use and will remain in the main passage they pass through, so that when the group do return, they find you and 'capture' you. Is that clear so far?"

"Yes, sir," Stoev replied.

"Once you have been 'captured,' if all goes to plan, you should be taken to the main chamber and all members of the movement will be called to meet down there. We will fit you with an invisible string-less Extendable Ear before we send you in, that way we will know all that happens from the moment you enter the ruins. We will hear when you are in the chamber, giving us our cue. We will not enter straight away, however we will not leave it long enough for them to try anything too harmful on you. Once we are certain that most of the members are down there with you, we will then enter. If you are feeling that something may happen before we get there, or if things aren't going the way we planned, give us a sign through the extendable ear; whisper to us, say something in code to us, anything inconspicuous that will alert us of the problem without the movement catching on."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"Excellent," Harry replied, "Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, sir, what if some of the members are sent out to search the area for more of us?"

"Good question. We have that covered, however it is highly likely that none will be sent out without them all having been summoned to the main chamber first. Once they are all gathered there, they will receive their orders. If that does not happen, we will be prepared and waiting outside. As soon as they appear exiting the ruins, we will attack from our hidden positions. Anything else?" asked Harry.

Shaking his head, Stoev replied, "No, sir."

"Okay, you are dismissed. Go get some sleep."

Stoev exited the office, leaving the three senior aurors alone once more. They stood in silence for a few minutes, contemplating the events of the past few days and the one that was fast approaching. In a few short hours they would attack, risking their safety and their lives for the protection of the muggle and wizarding worlds for the second time in five years. They needed to succeed this time; if they didn't, Harry knew it would only be a matter of time before he was right back where he was now. Whether it be another five, ten, or twenty years from now, all his dreams of a peaceful life would be abandoned once more.

"I guess there's nothing else to be done until morning," Ron said, breaking the silence, "So we may as well try to get some sleep too."

"Yes, ve vill need our vits about us ven ve begin tomorrow," Viktor agreed. "You both are invited to stay in my chambers tonight, if you vish. The beds are more comfortable there."

"Will there be enough room for the three of us?" asked Harry.

"I vill be staying vith Ivana tonight as ve have a few things to discuss before tomorrow." A blush began to once again creep across Viktor's face. "The room is all ready for you. I shall see you in a few hours."

"Thank you, Viktor," Ron said with genuine sincerity. His days of holding a petty grudge against the man who had stolen his wife's first kiss had vanished over the duration of this assignment.

Viktor lead Harry and Ron to his chambers a few floors below their office. The three men walked in silence, shaking hands upon reaching the room before Viktor bade them goodnight.

Harry and Ron quickly readied themselves for bed and climbed under their covers.

"G'night, Harry," Ron mumbled.

"'Night, Ron," Harry replied, casting all thoughts of the following day aside by thinking of Ginny and the life that lay ahead of them as he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Five - Unexpected Acquaintances

2010-03-02T04:12:00.000-08:00

The hall, to Harry and Ron, looked the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, though that was the only similarity. The stone walls were damp and dilapidated; mould and other fungi were growing from between the cracks and joins in the stone, and the lit torches barely remained attached to their rusted brackets. The ceiling was no better; the old crumbling stone had fallen away in places, allowing the light from outside to shine through.

After gazing warily at their surroundings, the group of aurors turned their attention to Ron and Harry to find out their next course of action. The best friends looked at one another, unsure about where to go from here, when a lone pair of footsteps broke the eerie silence. Turning around, they could just make out a dark figure walking towards them.

"Draw your wands," Ron muttered to the group as the figure drew closer, the sound of its footsteps echoing around the empty hall. Their unknown companion's appearance became clearer as the black-cloaked being walked under a beam of light shining from a crack in the roof; the cloak did little to hide the bulking mass of the figure underneath and a hood masking its face hid its identity from the group of eight.

The figure came to a halt no less than three metres in front of them.

"Velcome to Bulgaria, England associates," came a deep and steady voice from under the hood, "Ve have been vaiting."

"Who are you?" Harry questioned, his wand raised.

The figure raised his hands and pushed the hood back to reveal his face.

"Viktor?"

"Hello, Harry," Viktor Krum replied, nodding at him. "Ron," he added, doing the same.

Ron looked to Harry in confusion. He hadn't known that Krum was involved in the Bulgarian Auror division, let alone going to meet them on this assignment. The look Harry returned reflected that he hadn't known either.

"Viktor, how long have …?"

"Almost as long as you," the Bulgarian replied. "After vhat happened in your part of the vorld, dark stirrings began over here. I vasn't going to sit by and let it escalate into another Voldemort episode, so I decided to do something about it. Joining the Auror division seemed like the best option."

Harry and Ron nodded in understanding. Turning to their group, they noticed the looks of awe and surprise on their co-workers' faces.

"Team, this is Viktor Krum. He will be assisting us on our assignment," Harry said. Turning to Viktor, he continued, "Viktor, this is our team. Kingsley Shaklebolt's team should have arrived at the other destination by now. Do you know who's meeting them?"

Viktor nodded. "My partner, Ivana Volkovich. She has been in the force a lot longer than me and is one of the best in our division. They are in safe hands."

"So where do we go from here?" Ron asked, desperate to get the assignment done and get back home to his wife.

Viktor pulled two envelopes from a pocket in his robes, and handed one each to Harry and Ron.

"Here is the information on the status of the current situation. The dark movement is mainly stirring here in Plovdiv; the City of Plovdiv, vhich is vhere ve are now, and the Town of Asenovgrad, vhere Ivana is vith Shacklebolt's team. It appears that there are two members of the movement who are vying for the title of "Dark Lord," hence the two locations. If it gets out of hand, ve may end up vith a problem larger than Voldemort."

"What has been done up until now? We were given an overview of the situation back in London, but due to secrecy and information leaks, very little information has been shared between your division and ours," Harry explained.

Viktor indicated their envelopes. "Most of it is in there. Once you have read them, you must dispose of them immediately. Ve cannot risk the information falling into the wrong hands. I am going to give you fifteen minutes to read and discuss it, then I vill return and answer any questions before ve make our first move."

Nodding, Harry and Ron turned to their group and opened their envelopes. They read silently, committing as much of the information to memory as possible, before turning to each other.

"This is more serious than I thought," Harry said in a low whisper. "Do you think our team is up for it? I know they're a strong group, but they haven't faced anything like this before. Not on this scale, anyway."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I know, but we're here now and we need all the help we can get. You and I can't do this on our own. Voldemort was one thing, but this is completely different. There's two of them out there who are as strong, if not stronger, than Voldemort was. They might not have as much support and reign over the country as Voldemort did, but from the sounds of things, they're taking over rather fast. Not to mention we're in a completely foreign country. Fighting Voldemort on home soil gave us an advantage. Here, we know nothing."

With a sigh, Harry ran his fingers through his hair.

"Alright … we'll explain all we've read to the group and try to prepare them for what lies ahead. They know, in essence, how we did things with Voldemort, so we've just got to elaborate on that, I suppose."

"Do you want to start or shall I?" Ron asked with a grimace.

***

Half an hour later, Viktor had rejoined them and the group had made their way to Auror Headquarters in the centre of the City of Plovdiv. Like the London Headquarters, it was hidden underground away from muggle eyes. Upon entering the building, they were surprised to find the interior architecture almost exactly the same as their home headquarters, which somewhat eased their apprehension of the task looming before them.

Viktor introduced them to the head of the City of Plovdiv division, Aleksandrov Polski, before leading them to the office where they would report back to over the duration their assignment. Only one two pieces of furniture, a large wooden desk with a matching chair, occupied the room, leaving plenty of space for the eight aurors and their companion to fit comfortably inside.

"At the end of each task of your assignment, or at the end of each assigned shift, you are to return here and report to the auror on duty," Viktor explained to the group. "They vill then contact Harry, Ron and myself to update us on your progress vith the situation. If you are injured at any time during the assignment, you are to make your vay back here immediately, and, depending on the severity of your injuries, you vill either be treated and returned to vork, or you vill be sent home. If you have trouble making your way here, ask your team mates for assistance."

"On that note," Harry added, "At no time are you to be alone when out on the field. You will stick with your assigned partners at all times. If one of you is injured, the other will accompany you back. Is that clear?"

A mumbled, "Yes, sir," came from the group.

"Okay, so you all know your current tasks for today, so we shouldn't have any problems. Before we get started though, are there any questions?"

The six aurors shook their heads.

"Excellent. Please collect your packs from Ron before departing. Again, do not attempt any field work on your own. Stick with your partners, or you will find yourself off the assignment and reporting to Shacklebolt upon our return to base. Good luck."

With that, the aurors made their way to Ron, who stood by the desk with the task information and field work packs for each member of the team. After collecting all they needed, the pairs disapparated, leaving Ron, Harry and Viktor alone.

"Vell, I am going to check up on Ivana and see how things are vith their team, before the two of us set off on our task. I vill speak vith you a little later on," Viktor said to the two men.

"Good luck. Keep us posted," replied Ron, shaking hands with the Bulgarian.

"And good luck to you. I know you vill help us considerably vith this issue."

After shaking hands with Harry and nodding to both in farewell, Viktor disappeared with a POP!

A sigh echoed around the room.

"I guess this is it," Ron said, looking at Harry with uncertainty.

"I guess so," Harry replied, mirroring Ron's look.

Both stood in silence for a moment, staring at the other, before grasping each other in a fierce embrace.

Pulling away, Ron said, "Let's go get these bastards so we can go home."

Harry nodded, steeling his resolve, before both men disappeared, leaving nothing but an echo in the now empty room.

Chapter Four - A Story Revisited

2010-03-02T04:11:00.000-08:00

Hermione arrived at the front gate of the Potter household with a "POP!" Lifting the latch, she pushed the gate open and entered the yard, closing the gate behind her. She wandered up the pebble path to the house, admiring the beautiful gardens around her.

Ginny and Harry had spent many hours in the garden, planting all their favourite flowers and shrubs; rows of pink and white lilies lined the small white picket fence in abundance, while pink, yellow, orange and red gardenias spread their colour around the stairs leading up to the front door, continuing along the front of the porch. A few metres to the left of the path was a round stone water fountain, spraying a cool mist over the collection of rose bushes that surrounded it. Various other plants took residence in the garden, making it one of the most beautiful and well-looked after gardens in the street, and with the amount of time and care the married couple put into it, it was hard finding a single gnome anywhere.

Hermione walked up the few stairs onto the porch, passing under an ornate wooden sign that read, 'Godric's Hollow.' She smiled to herself, as always, glad that Harry had found happiness on the land of his parents. Harry had spent months secretly building the house on the site where his parents house had once stood, surprising Ginny with a home and a marriage proposal on the evening of her twenty-fourth birthday.

Upon reaching the door, Hermione knocked gently before pushing it open.

"Harry? Ginny? Are you home?" she called, closing the door behind her and walking down the hall.

"Just in the study, Hermione," Harry called in return.

Walking a little further down the hall, Hermione stopped at the second door to her right. She entered to find Harry submerged in a mountain of parchment.

"Is this a bad time?"

Harry looked up and smiled. "No! Of course not." He pushed a few rolls of parchment aside and got to his feet, pulling Hermione into a hug. "How are you, Hermione?

"I'm well, thank you. How are you?" Hermione asked, smiling at her best friend.

"I'm fine, thanks. Are you sure you're okay?" A worried expression had settled on Harry's face, and Hermione didn't like it one bit.

"Bill's spoken to you, hasn't he?"

"Hermione, he's just worried about you. We all are. You can't keep living like this. Believe me when I say, living in the past, in hope, in a dream … it's not healthy. It'll slowly kill you inside." Harry sighed, "You need to talk to someone, so you can move on."

"That's why I came to you," Hermione said, sitting down on one of the chairs opposite Harry's desk. She closed her eyes and released a deep breath. "Harry, I want you to tell me everything from that day. From the second you both left me to the second I saw you return without him. I want to know it all."

Harry stood momentarily frozen in his spot.

"Harry, please?" she begged.

"A-are you sure?" asked Harry after snapping back to the present.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. If I know absolutely everything that I possibly can about that day, maybe it'll help me move on. I don't know if it'll work, Harry, but I have to at least try. For Regan's sake."

Harry nodded and sat down at his desk. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"Where do you want me to start?"

Hermione thought for a moment before saying, "From when I said goodbye to you. The last – the last time I saw him."

Taking a deep breath, Harry began his story.

"As you know, Ron and I were to apparate from your house to the Ministry, to prepare for our arrival in Bulgaria …"

***

Four years previous

***

Ron walked down the stairs from his and Hermione's bedroom, backpack in one hand and a gift in the other.

"Ready to go?" Harry asked, standing in the living room with Ginny and a heavily pregnant Hermione.

"Almost," Ron replied upon reaching the bottom of the stairs. "How about I meet you at the Ministry? I just want to say goodbye to Hermione."

Harry nodded and took Ginny's hand. "Okay. Take care, Hermione," he said, giving Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you in a few days."

Smiling, Hermione replied, "Goodbye, Harry. Be careful."

"Always," Harry laughed, before he and Ginny disapparated.

Hermione turned to face Ron, who was still standing at the base of the stairs just looking at her. He walked over, dropping his backpack and the gift on a nearby chair, and enveloped Hermione in a tight embrace.

"Please be careful, Ron," Hermione begged. "Don't go doing anything stupidly heroic."

Ron laughed. "Stupidly heroic?"

"Don't laugh, Ron. I know what you and Harry are like."

"Don't worry, Hermione. Harry and I are just there to do our task, then we're coming home. Nothing will happen."

He leaned down to gently kiss her.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Ron."

Ron smiled and kissed her again, before remembering something.

"I've got you a present!" He ran back to the chair that he'd dropped the gift on and handed it to Hermione. "It's just a little something to keep you company, and to let you know that I'll be thinking of you and the baby the whole time I'm gone." He slipped one arm around Hermione's waist and rested his other hand on her bulging stomach. "Go on, open it."

Hermione smiled at him and began to carefully undo the spellotape. She pulled the paper back to reveal a soft, furry, chocolate brown teddy bear.

"Oh, Ron! It's gorgeous!"

"I thought we could give it to the baby as its first teddy bear. But meanwhile, he's to keep you company."

Kissing Ron lightly and hugging him, Hermione said, "Thank you, Ron. It was very sweet of you. But you really should be going now. Harry's waiting for you."

Ron sighed. "Okay. Don't worry about us, Hermione. We'll be back before you know it!" He picked his backpack up off the chair and slung it over his shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered, and with one last quick kiss, he was gone.

He reappeared a few seconds later outside the Auror office in the Ministry of Magic. He found Harry and the rest of their group waiting to be de-briefed.

"You're cutting it a bit fine there, Weasley," Kingsley Shacklebolt said as Ron approached the group.

"Sorry. Was just saying goodbye to my wife," Ron apologised.

"Not to worry. Just try to make it here a bit earlier in future."

Ron nodded and took his place in the group next to Harry.

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen," Shacklebolt began, clasping his hands together. "You are about to enter one of Bulgaria's most high-risk areas. You are to enter, complete your set task, then leave. Anyone found deviating from their task will suffer severe consequences once back here on base. Is that clear?"

A mumbled chorus of, "Yes, Sir," sounded from the group.

"Right then. Potter and Weasley's team, you will depart from room twenty-seven in ten minutes. My team will leave from room fifteen at the same time. Any questions?"

The group shook their heads.

"Aurors dismissed. Good luck."

The two groups separated and followed their leaders to their assigned departure rooms.

Room twenty-seven was a three metre square room, the size of a standard bedroom. The six Aurors under Harry and Ron's lead, plus the two men themselves, all crammed into the room, awaiting their departure. As they were to use a portkey as the mode of transport to their first check-in station, the eight Aurors had gathered around a small column, upon which sat an old, cracked Frisbee.

Basil, the Head Officer of the Department of Magical Transportation, entered the room and walked up to stand next to the column.

"Now, you all know the portkey process, so I won't keep you much longer," he began. "Once I have charmed the Frisbee, you will have one minute to place a finger on it before departure. Get ready, ladies and gentlemen, and good luck."

Basil drew his wand and tapped the Frisbee, muttering, "Portus!" He stepped away so that the group of eight could gather around; they each made sure they were touching the Frisbee, and before long the all-too familiar navel-pulling feeling swept over them and they found themselves in an unfamiliar hall.

Daddy's Little Nudger

2010-03-02T04:10:00.001-08:00

Written as a birthday present for the lovely LilMissGoldenEyes.
Happy 21st, Kris! <3

It was an ordinary morning - the same as any other - though at the same time, it was extraordinary. It was just breaking on dawn; the sounds of birds chirping and calling to one another, announcing the new day, broke the silence of the night, while the sky outside hovered in that kind of glow that was just between darkness and light. The bedroom remained dark, however the increasing illumination of the sun’s awakening allowed me to faintly make out the silhouettes of the various items of furniture that filled it, and the steadily breathing form of my heavily pregnant wife, Bella.

Bella’s stunning beauty was captivating, even in the darkness, but that wasn’t what made the morning extraordinary. No – it was the little being growing inside her gently nudging my hand that had my complete attention.

It was this moment every day that I cherished the most. The alone time I had with my tiny son or daughter while my wife slept made all the trials and tribulations that had led us to this point completely worth it, and any issues that arose during my workday seemed to just brush past me, as they paled in comparison. Six grim years of miscarriages, failed fertility treatments, and dashed hopes of ever starting a family of our own had finally paid off. Our little nudger was my everything; my happiness, my laughter, my reason for walking through the office door with a permanent smile on my face every day. Nudger was my miracle. Our miracle.

My hand rested gently on Bella’s extended stomach and - as if sensing my presence, my touch - Nudger soon began to push lightly against it.

“Good morning, Nudger,” I whispered softly, a smile already affixed to my features. “Daddy loves you.”

A quick triplet of kicks followed my admission, and I took them as an excited, “I love you too,” from my little miracle. The excited kicks continued and began to grow stronger, causing Bella to stir. I gently rubbed the taut skin in soothing circles in the hopes of settling Nudger down and prolonging Bella’s sleep.

“Shh, little Nudger … you’ll wake Mommy. She needs her rest, so you need to behave,” I whispered.

The kicking stopped and all was still. I halted my hand’s movements and let it rest once more upon Bella’s stomach.

“I hope you’re this easy to deal with after you’re born,” I chuckled softly to myself.

I felt another few quick nudges before it stilled again.

I sighed. “I know, little one, I’m excited to meet you too. But that’s all up to you now!” I smiled. “You’ve had your nine months in the warm comfort of Hotel Mommy, it’s time to check out. Mommy and I are more than ready to welcome you into Casa de Cullen. You’ve even got your own bedroom! You’ve got all kinds of wonderful toys and teddy bears waiting for you …”

Nudger began to kick excitedly again.

“I know!” I laughed. “Mommy and Daddy have been very naughty. You are going to be spoilt rotten, little one. And not just by us, either. You have a very excited Aunt Alice and Grandma Renee waiting for you, not to mention all your cousins and your other aunts, uncles and grandparents! We’re all just waiting for you to decide to grace us with your presence.”

The nudging returned to a steady, calm pace, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Oh, I see how it is. You know how much we want to meet you, so you’re going to keep us waiting. Little tease.”

I felt a little ‘thump thump’ of confirmation against my palm and I grinned. I leaned down and placed a soft kiss atop the skin separating me and Nudger, then whispered, “Just don’t keep us waiting too long. We’ve spent the last six years waiting for you, little one.”

The thumping under my hand suddenly turned forceful once more, rousing Bella from her slumber. She stretched her arms above her head as she yawned, before bringing her hands down to rest upon her active stomach.

“See? Now you’ve woken Mommy,” I scolded gently, tapping Bella’s stomach lightly. “Good morning, Mommy,” I murmured, capturing her lips with my own in a tender kiss.

“Mmm …” she mumbled in response. “What on earth have you been saying to this child this morning, Edward? It feels like Nudger has taken up pre-natal acrobatics …”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “I was just … hinting … that maybe it was time Nudger did some work around here. You know, made an appearance, said hi, checked out all the cool stuff we’ve bought …” I smirked at Bella as she rolled her eyes.

“Ha, if only. Instead, you’ve succeeded in convincing Nudger to press right up against the perfect spot on my bladder that makes me feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t get to the bathroom in the next thirty seconds,” she said, struggling to sit up in bed.

I reached over to help her up, and she was half to her feet when she froze. A deep moan escaped her lips.

“What is it, Love? What’s wrong?” I asked, worried. I scrambled across the bed and leaped over the edge to kneel down in front of her.

“I think I spoke too soon,” she breathed, her breath coming in shallow pants. “Look.”

I followed her gaze down to her feet, where a puddle of liquid had formed. I looked back up at the pained expression on her face. Brushing her hair back out of her eyes, I pressed a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Oh, Bella, it’s okay. I can clean it up. Here, I’ll help you to the bathroom so you can clean yourself up.”

She shook her head quickly and let out another moan.

“I didn’t wet myself, Edward. I think your “hinting” worked. My waters broke.”

I stared at Bella for a moment, stunned.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded in reply. A huge grin spread across my face.

“I’m going to be a daddy? Today?”

Bella nodded again, squeezing her eyes shut in a grimace as a contraction rippled through her.

“Edward, we need to get to the hospital.”

I nodded and helped Bella to her feet. Kneeling quickly before her, I held onto either side of her stomach and pressed a kiss against the bulge.

“I love you, Nudger. You have just made me the happiest man in the world,” I whispered excitedly, before rising to my feet to help my wife prepare for what was going to be the happiest, most anticipated day of our lives.

Chapter Three - A Time for Distraction

2010-03-02T04:10:00.000-08:00

After Hermione had somewhat collected herself, Bill went upstairs to Regan's bedroom and found the young boy cuddling his favourite teddy bear; one that Ron had bought for his son before his disappearance. Of course, Ron hadn't known that he and Hermione were having a son, but at that time he had wanted something for Hermione to keep close by when he went away on Auror missions; something that would give her some kind of comfort and also let her know that he was thinking of her and the baby while he was gone.

Bill sat down beside Regan on the bed and wrapped an arm around his small shoulders. Regan sniffled and slowly looked up from where he had buried his face in the top of the bear's head.

"Why is Mummy angry at me?" he asked, his big blue eyes full of sadness and confusion. "Did I do something bad? I didn't mean to! I don't want Mummy to be angry at me."

Placing a gentle kiss on the small boy's head, Bill replied, "You didn't do anything wrong, Regan. Mummy didn't mean to yell at you, she is just a little sad at the moment."

"Why? Did Daddy do something?"

"What makes you think that?" Bill asked, not liking where the conversation was heading.

"She said that I was never going to see Daddy. Why did Daddy make Mummy cry?"

Bill blanched. What was he supposed to say? He knew that Hermione had not told Regan the full truth about his father's absence, and the Weasleys, as family, had respected her reasons for that. However, Regan was now getting to the age where they could not hide things as well from him. Which left Bill in a very uncomfortable position.

"Well … Mummy just misses your Daddy very much."

"If he came home, would it make her happy?"

"I think it would, Regan. It would make all of us happy. And do you know what would also make some of us happy?" Bill asked, in attempt to change the subject.

"What?"

"If you came over to my house this afternoon to play with Laura."

Regan grinned and jumped up and down excitedly. "Can we play Kiditch too?" he asked, his eyes wide with joy and the previous topic of conversation temporarily forgotten, much to the relief of Bill.

"We'll see," laughed Bill in reply. "But you have to pack your bag for tonight first. Unless you don't want to stay over Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry's house …"

At this comment, Regan tossed his teddy bear onto the bed and jumped to his feet. He ran over to his cupboard and began to pull out the drawers, before suddenly stopping and turning around to face his uncle.

"Uncle Bill, can you help me pack my bag?"

Bill folded his arms across his chest and looked back at his nephew with raised eyebrows.

"And what do you say?"

"Please?"

"That's more like it," Bill smiled before rising to his feet and walking over to help the young boy pack for his overnight stay.

Downstairs, meanwhile, Hermione was sitting in her favourite reading chair by the sunroom window, a steaming mug of herbal tea clasped in her hands. She had her eyes closed, breathing in the calming scent of the tea as she tried to clear her mind and force herself to relax.

She couldn't believe that she had lost her temper at Regan. It was something she had vowed that she would never do. She had read about parents who took their anger out on their innocent children, and she had told herself that she would never become one of those parents. Yet here she was, a mother of only four years, and already she had gone back on her promise. She didn't even know where the outburst had come from. It had been bad enough that she had lost her self-control in front of Bill, but to lose her anger at her innocent little boy in front of Bill …

Now he's going to go tell everyone what an awful mother I am and Molly will hate me, she thought to herself. She won't trust me to look after Regan and they'll take him away…

A small tear began to wind its way down Hermione's cheek, only to be brushed away impatiently.

"Stop being so stupid," she whispered to herself. "Everyone yells at their children at some stage. Molly used to yell at Ron and the others all the time. Regan just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'll just have to apologise to him and do something really special to make it up to him …"

That thought cheered Hermione up immensely. When she thought back on it, Molly Weasley had yelled at her children quite a bit over the years since she had first met them. Ron, Fred and George had caused Molly to raise her voice on many more occasions than they had really needed to. Hermione suspected, however, that Fred and George had done it on purpose most of the time, just to see how angry they could make their mother before they got too severely punished for it.

Hermione was lost in thoughts of special surprises for her son when Regan came bounding down the stairs, followed closely by Bill. She looked at the two red-heads over the rim of her mug and a small smile played on her lips as Regan ran over to her.

"Mummy, Uncle Bill said I could come to his house and play with Laura!"

Placing her mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of her, Hermione opened her arms to her son and pulled him into a hug. She lightly kissed the top of his auburn head and gave him a small squeeze.

"That sounds like fun," she said.

"And Uncle Bill said that maybe we could play Kiditch too!"

Hermione laughed, "Well just make sure you're wearing your gloves and protection gear if you do, okay? Did you pack them with your overnight things?"

"We packed all of that, didn't we Regan?" Bill replied.

The young boy pulled away from his mother slightly and nodded happily. "But I didn't pack my toothbrush," he added, "Because I have one at Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry's house."

Hermione smiled; her parents would be happy to see that she had raised their grandson to look after his teeth.

"That's okay, Regan. Now you go and have fun with Laura, and I'll see you tonight for dinner, all right?"

Regan nodded excitedly and threw his arms around his mother's neck.

"I love you, Mummy."

"I love you too, Regan," Hermione whispered in reply, hugging him tight.

Bill felt himself choke up a little at the sight before him. It was moments like these that he wanted nothing more in the world than for Ron to be right where he belonged; with Hermione and Regan. It made his heart ache to watch them living their lives without him. What pained him even more was that he could do nothing to change it.

Hermione slowly pulled away from Regan and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Be good for Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur," she said.

"I will!" Regan replied happily, smiling as he ran over to Bill and took his hand.

Bill smiled warmly at Hermione and said, "We'll see you tonight at Harry and Ginny's. Don't worry about Regan, he'll be fine with us. Just concentrate on you this afternoon, okay?"

Hermione nodded and returned Bill's smile.

"Right, Regan, let's go! Hold on tight!" Bill felt his nephew grip his hand even harder as they prepared to disapparate. Regan waved at his mother with his free hand.

"Bye, Mummy!"

Hermione waved back, "Bye, Regan."

And then the two Weasley boys were gone.

Hermione stared at the just-vacated spot in front of her for a few moments before she downed the last of her tea and banished her mug to the kitchen. She made her way upstairs to her bedroom to make herself look presentable enough for her family that night, then apparated over to Harry and Ginny's house. She needed to have a long overdue talk with Harry …

Chapter Two - The Loss of the Strong

2010-03-02T04:07:00.000-08:00

"Mummy, look! Uncle Bill's here!" Regan cried happily.

Hermione nearly dropped the lunch plates in surprise.

"Bill!" You almost gave me a heart attack. When did you come in?" she asked breathlessly, placing one of the plates down in front of Regan as she tried to regain her composure. Even though Voldemort had been defeated years ago, a part of Hermione's mind still expected a dark wizard to be lurking around every corner.

Bill chuckled as his young nephew eagerly picked up his sandwich and began to eat, oblivious to everything around him. Just like Ron, Bill thought.

"Sorry, I did knock but you mustn't have heard me," Bill said, turning his attention to his sister-in-law. "Regan came tearing into the hall and practically wrenched the door off it's hinges when he saw that it was me. Apparently I'm sleeping over Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry's house with him tonight."

"Are you coming for dinner? Ginny said everyone was invited," Hermione said with a smile, watching Bill's amusement over her son's eating habits.

"Yes, but I won't stay for too long. Charlie and I have to have that passageway in Gringotts finished by Monday, and there's still a few charms that I'm having a bit of trouble with. There's something I've thought of that I want to try out, so Charlie and I are heading over there after dinner."

Hermione nodded in understanding and sat her plate down on the table.

"Did you want something to eat?" she asked Bill, "I can make you a sandwich if you like."

Bill glanced back over at Regan and nodded his head.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually. I haven't eaten since early this morning, and from the looks of things, your sandwiches must be quite something."

Hermione laughed, "You do remember what Ron was like, don't you? If it was edible, he'd eat it. Regan is exactly the same …"

"Yes, but if Ron didn't like it, he made sure everyone knew."

"That didn't stop your mother giving him corned beef sandwiches," Hermione laughed.

"That is true," Bill chuckled in agreement.

"Mummy, I'm thirsty," Regan said, staring up at Hermione with his face covered in tomato seeds and breadcrumbs.

Smiling down at her son, Hermione replied, "Well, you stay here and finish your lunch and Uncle Bill will get you some pumpkin juice while I make him a sandwich, okay?"

The small boy nodded and returned to his half-eaten sandwich.

Bill rose from his chair and followed Hermione into the kitchen. He conjured a jug of pumpkin juice, casting a chilling charm on it while Hermione prepared another sandwich.

"So what is the problem with the passageway?" Hermione asked. "Why aren't the charms working properly?"

"That damn dragon of Charlie's is affecting them somehow. I'm not sure what it's doing, but I put the charms up and a few hours later they're down again. I think there's something in the dragon's aura that keeps breaking through them. I want Charlie to take the thing away so I can test the charms properly and make sure they're working without getting myself burnt to a crisp, but the goblins won't hear of it. Apparently taking the dragon away for a few hours will cause a massive break-in," he snorted. "The only way that will happen is if people are told the dragon won't be there. And it's not like the passageway would be unprotected. There's always fifty bloody goblins at every entrance."

"They're only doing their job, Bill," Hermione replied, "And besides, there are other ways of testing the charms without getting burnt. Haven't Charlie and his team been stunning the dragon while you've been working around it?"

"Yes, but it managed to wake itself up this morning and decided that I would be better served flat. It would have succeeded too, if I hadn't moved to the next section just before it slammed its foot down."

Hermione gasped. "Oh Bill! That's awful! Are you okay?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" he jested.

"Oh, don't laugh! You could have been hurt!"

"Now do see why I want the dragon moved?"

A look of concentration took residence on Hermione's features as she handed Bill his plate and summoned three drinking glasses from the cupboard. The pair walked back into the dining room and sat down in their respective chairs. Bill filled the three glasses with pumpkin juice and handed one to Regan, who drank his so fast that Hermione wondered if she had only imagined his glass being full.

The trio sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their lunch, until Hermione spoke again.

"There are other ways of knocking out a dragon, aren't there? Other than stunning?"

Bill swallowed his mouthful before replying, Yes, but they take more wizards to perform. Stunning is the method that takes the least number of wizards to perform it properly and effectively. The ministry can't afford to hire any more wizards just for this assignment."

"Well, do you know how the dragon broke the spell?"

Bill shook his head. "It's got everyone stumped. But I think it's something to do with its aura, like I said before. There's just something about this dragon that affects the magic in that passageway."

"Would you like me to come with you tonight? Maybe I could help you figure it out," Hermione suggested. Bill shook his head vehemently.

"You spend enough time at work as it is, Hermione. You don't need any extra problems to think about."

"But I could-"

"No," Bill said firmly. "As much as Mum loves minding Regan, she would agree that you need to spend more time with him. I'm not saying you're a bad mother," he said quickly upon seeing Hermione open her mouth to object, "but Regan needs you. Do you think that it matters to him if you don't get that little extra bit in your paycheck for working overtime? He just wants to spend time with you. I remember when I was a kid; it didn't matter that Charlie and I didn't have all the toys that other kids did, because we made our own fun, playing outside, making up games … the only thing we looked forward to, that we were most excited about, was seeing our Dad at the end of the day. We would wait by the front gate for him to come home and then follow him inside, listening to his stories about work."

Bill paused to look at Regan.

"He's happy enough just to be sitting here eating lunch with you. He doesn't mind that you're not giving him attention; your presence is enough to keep him satisfied. You're his mother, Hermione. There's no one that he will ever love more than he does you."

Hermione gazed down at her son, blinking back tears. She reached out and ran her fingers gently through his soft auburn hair. At her touch, Regan looked up and grinned broadly at her, causing her to laugh.

At that moment, Hermione wanted nothing more than to scoop her small son into her arms and never let him go. He was the most adorable, cheeky, and perfect little boy she had ever seen; and he was all hers. Sometimes she still could not believe that this little auburn-haired angel was of her creation. Their creation. She and Ron had made this little ball of life together, and it showed; with every passing moment Regan became more and more like his father. So much so that it tore Hermione up inside a little more every day.

Overwhelmed by Bill's words and her own thoughts, Hermione felt on the verge of tears again for the second time that day. She held them back as she gathered the empty lunch plates, not looking at Bill or her son as she did so because she knew that once she did, there would be no holding back the dam of emotions that was threatening to spill.

"Would you like a hand, Hermione?" Bill asked, watching his sister-in-law hurriedly clear the table.

"No, I'm fine thank you," she replied, "I'll just quickly wash these and then I'll be right out."

"I'll go get Regan cleaned up while you do that, shall I?"

Hermione looked at Bill with glassy eyes and nodded before turning on her heel and rushing into the kitchen.

Once she had placed the plates safely on the kitchen bench, Hermione felt her knees give way. Sinking to the floor, she reluctantly allowed herself to lose control. She was crying so hard that she neither saw nor heard her husband's brother come running into the room.

The instant he heard Hermione's cry of anguish and despair, Bill raced into the kitchen and wrapped his arms tight around her. As Hermione sank into him, he felt all of her strength leave her as her depression took over.

"I can't do this anymore, Bill. I just can't," she sobbed. "I can't be a good mother to Regan, I can't handle raising him alone … I can't go to work all day, I can't keep us fed, I can't keep us alive … I just can't live anymore. I can't come home to an empty house … I can't come home to a life without him … I just can't … not without Ron …"

Bill did not know what to say; Hermione was always the strong one. He had never even heard of her losing herself like this before. Not knowing what else to do, he gently stroked Hermione's hair and rocked her soothingly in his arms, keeping quiet and allowing her to let all her emotions out.

"I can't keep living like this … I don't want to be here anymore, Bill. He's dead. He's never coming back. He's never going to see his son, he's never going to … Regan's never going to see his father. Ron is dead! He's dead …" Hermione trailed off as another wave of tears spilled over her cheeks.

Then a small voice sounded from the door.

"Mummy?"

Bill turned his head to look at Regan. "Regan, you go finish washing yourself, okay?" he said quietly, "Mummy and I will be up soon."

Regan ignored his uncle's words and timidly walked closer to his mother.

"Mummy? Why are you crying?"

"Bill, take him away," Hermione pleaded, "I don't want him to see me like this."

"Regan, Mummy is okay. Why don't you do as I just asked and go back upstairs?" Bill told his nephew. Again, Regan ignored him and kept walking closer.

"Mummy-"

"Regan, just go upstairs!" Hermione cried, pulling away from Bill slightly to look at her son. The small boy froze in his tracks and stared at his mother.

"I SAID GO, REGAN!" shouted Hermione angrily.

Regan jumped in shock and fled from the room, his cries echoing down the hall.

Hermione released a loud sob as the shock of what she had just done hit her; she had shouted at her son. She had lost control and taken her self-loathing out on Regan, when all he had done was love her.

"Oh, Bill," she sobbed, "What has happened to me?"

It was then that Bill realised that the family member he considered to be the strongest of them all was really not that at all.

Chapter One - The Invitation

2010-03-02T02:12:00.000-08:00

"Mummy, look at this!"

The excited four year old tottered up to Hermione, holding a piece of parchment preciously in his hands. Hermione carefully took the parchment from her son and placed it on the table in front of her, then lifted him onto her lap. Looking over the drawing on the parchment, she smiled.

"That's beautiful, Regan. Tell me about it."

The young boy smiled proudly at his mother. Pointing to one of the figures on the parchment, he said, "That's Aunt Ginny watching Uncle Harry fly on his broom, that's Uncle Fred and Uncle George in their shop, that's Uncle Charlie with one of his dragons, and that's Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur playing with Laura,"

"And who's this in the middle?" Hermione asked, pointing to the figures in the centre of the picture.

"That's you, me, and Daddy," replied Regan.

Hermione looked from her son, to the drawing, and back to her son again. She hugged him tight and kissed the top of his auburn head. Regan was definitely his father's son. He was extremely intelligent like Hermione; that was to be expected. At the age of four he was speaking like a seven year old. But his appearance was that of a true Weasley. From the shock of red hair to the mass of freckles on his nose, there was no doubt that he was Ron's son.

"Mummy, when will I get to see daddy for real?"

As Hermione stared down into the big, bright blue eyes of her son, tears began to form in her own pools of brown.

Ron. He was a topic of conversation just on his own.

The picture Regan had drawn of his father was based on the photographs positioned around the house. They were all the young boy had to go on, as he had never seen his father in person. And nobody knew why.

Hermione always hated it when her son brought up that topic, but being so young, he did not understand why his cousin Laura got to see her daddy and he did not get to see his. So Hermione always had to give an answer; even though that was the unanswered question that constantly swam around her mind.

Drawing in a deep breath, she said, "I don't know, Regan. I don't know where Daddy is, or what he is doing." Or if he's even alive, she thought to herself.

"I wish he'd tell you," Regan said impatiently, "Then I could see him."

"I wish he would too," Hermione whispered, on the verge of tears. She thought about Ron every second of every day; where he might be, what he might be doing … She kept telling herself that he was at work and that he would be home soon. However, after four years, it became hard to keep believing that. She had had to build a life for Regan and herself without Ron, working full days during the week to earn enough money to keep them fed and clothed. Only rarely did she have money to spare on a treat for her son. When she did, she made sure it was a good one. Recently she had come home with a brand new toy broomstick, and Regan had been flying it around the backyard every chance he got. Harry, Fred, George, Charlie and Bill had even started teaching him how to play Quidditch. The smile on her son's face had been worth the tight budget for the next month. It had also brought a tear to her eye, as teaching Regan Quidditch would have been something Ron would have wanted to do. Hermione had wasted no time in wiping away the tear, though. Ron was not there. He could not teach Regan Quidditch, and she needed to get over it. Ron had missed so many things and would miss a heap more. In reality, it seemed as though Ron would never return. Reluctantly, Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys had accepted this and moved on. Ron would always stay in their hearts and in their minds, but his memory was not as painful anymore. Their family had got through it together, making them stronger as a group and as individuals.

Regan picked up his drawing and looked at it before turning to his mother.

"I'm going to put this one with the other drawings I did for Daddy. Then I'm going to do a hundred more so that he has lots to look at when I see him. Will he like them, Mummy?"

Hermione gave him another kiss and a squeeze, and smiled down at him.

"I'm sure he'll love them," she replied, her heart aching at the truth that Ron would never see them. Regan climbed down off Hermione's lap and a huge grin spread across his face.

"Then Daddy can draw pictures with me like you do! And he can play Kiditch with me and Uncle Harry and Uncle Fred and Uncle George and Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie! Does daddy like Kiditch?" Regan quizzed.

Hermione nodded. "It's his favourite thing."

Regan beamed.

"I have to practise a lot so I can be really good when I see him."

Hermione almost broke down on the spot.

"Well, how about we have some lunch, and then go visit Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. I'm sure Uncle Harry will help you practise," she suggested, blinking back her tears. Regan jumped up and down on the spot excitedly, causing Hermione to smile. "Go tidy up your crayons and wash your hands for lunch."

"Okay, Mummy!" Regan said, hugging his mother before running into the living room.

Once Regan was gone, Hermione took a moment to sort herself out. She cursed herself for almost losing it in front of Regan. She needed to be strong for him, be positive. She knew it was wrong to keep his hopes up like that, but knowing the truth would devastate him. And she could not do that to him. He was so young and innocent.

'But so are you,' a voice in her mind said.

'It's not the same,' another voice replied, 'you're an adult, he's a child.'

'You're only an adult because you have to be. When you're around your family and Regan you have to be an adult. But when you're alone ...' spoke the first voice, 'when you're alone, you're just a child.'

'You're protecting Regan from being hurt, but is it only for him? Are you sure you're not protecting yourself too? You haven't really accepted the fact that he's not coming back. It's been over four years, Hermione. You need to move on.'

"Stop it! Just stop! Please," Hermione let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I know he's not coming back, but I can't do that to Regan. Not yet."

The voices didn't reply. Hermione took a few more deep breaths before rising from her chair at the table and walking into the kitchen.

CRACK!

Ginny appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, just as Hermione had started preparing lunch for herself and Regan. Placing her knife down on the cutting board, Hermione let the arms of her sister-in-law envelop her in a hug.

"Ginny! How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Okay. But I'm getting better," replied Hermione.

Ginny smiled. "That's good to hear. And Regan?"

"Full of energy, as always. Definitely takes after Ron, that boy. So what brings you here?"

Ginny leaned back against the kitchen bench as Hermione returned to her preparations.

"Actually, I came to see if you wanted to come to dinner at Godric's Hollow tonight. The rest of the family are going to be there."

"That sounds lovely. Regan and I were thinking of paying you a visit later on," said Hermione. At that moment, Regan came skipping into the kitchen.

"Aunt Ginny!" he cried, running over to his aunt and throwing himself around her. Ginny laughed and lifted him into a hug.

"Hello, Regan! You seem very excited today."

"Mummy said we could go to your house after lunch and Uncle Harry could help me practice Kiditch so I'm really good when I see Daddy!" the young boy told Ginny happily.

"That sounds great, Regan!" Ginny exclaimed, smiling at her nephew. "Hey, I'll tell you what - If you go find your broom and pack your bag, you can stay over my house tonight. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" Regan cried, hugging Ginny tightly.

"Okay then, off you go," laughed Ginny, placing Regan down. He tore out of the kitchen and up to his bedroom, laughing as though all of his dreams had come true.

Ginny turned to Hermione and looked at her sternly.

"I know, Ginny, don't start with me…"

"Hermione, you can't keep doing this to him or yourself! Telling Regan his father is going to come home? You and I both know that isn't going to happen! Ron is gone, Hermione. He isn't going to come back. Regan will find out the truth somehow, and it will hurt him more than you telling him now will. You can't keep lying to him!"

"I know!" Hermione cried, slamming her knife down on the bench. "I know. I just … I can't work up the courage to tell him. His face brightens up so much when he talks about Ron, Ginny. You saw him just now. He wants to show Ron how good he is at Quidditch. He has a box full of drawings saved away for when Ron comes home. He only has photos, Ginny! Photos! Of his father, for goodness sake! He deserves more than that! He deserves to see him in person, be hugged by him, play Quidditch with him, be taught how to play chess by him!" Tears were now rolling down Hermione's face. "He deserves to have his father in his life."

"We all deserve to have Ron in our lives, but we can't! He's gone, Hermione, and there's nothing we can do."

"You don't know how hard it is! You try looking into his smiling face and telling him he'll never see his father. It will shatter him, Ginny. I can't do it. Not now."

Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione and hugged her tight.

"You have to tell him before it's too late. You owe it to him."

"I know. I just – not yet."

Ginny didn't say anything else on the matter; she just frowned deeply.

"Well, I have some errands to do before I go home, and Harry said we'd go into London this afternoon to get some things for dinner. So I'll see you tonight?"

Hermione nodded in reply.

"All right. Tell Regan I said goodbye."

Ginny began to walk away when Hermione stopped her.

"Ginny-"

The red-head turned around. "Yes?"

"I will tell him."

"I know you will."

The two sisters exchanged a small smile before Ginny disapparated. Hermione returned to her and Regan's lunch, slicing the sandwiches and placing them on two separate plates. Walking out to the table, she found Regan already there, sitting in his seat. What she didn't expect to find was someone sitting there with him.

Chapter One - My Beautiful Stranger

2010-02-03T22:01:00.000-08:00

“Bella, she is honestly driving me crazy. I love her, I really do, but if she doesn’t stop interfering, I am going to move out.”

“Jazz, don’t! Please, don’t even think about it. If you leave me here alone with her, there will be hell to pay. You do value your life, don’t you?” I asked, giving Jasper a stern look.

We were both sitting on his queen size bed, surrounded by his typically studious room. Jasper Hale was my best friend and housemate, and was an American History Professor at the University of Washington, his particular interest being the Civil War, which meant that his bedroom was filled with all kinds of Civil War literature, piles of assessments to be graded, and endless amounts of lecture preparation. Apart from that, though, his room was quite tidy. He didn’t have any clothes, clean or dirty, laying around, unlike his twin sister, Rosalie, who happened to be our other housemate. Her bedroom was constantly an explosion of clothes, shoes and endless assortments of accessories. I didn’t understand it myself, but then again, I wasn’t what you would call a girly girl.

Jasper lay back on his pillows with a sigh.

“I’m sick of it, Bella. She’s becoming unreasonable.”

“Rose is just looking out for you, Jazz. I know she comes across as a bitch, but it’s only because she loves you. I think she’s just jealous.”

“Jealous?” he choked, “What’s she got to be jealous of? She’s my sister! It’s not like I’m going to ask her on a date!”

I giggled and gave Jasper a light poke in his side.

“You can be so dense, sometimes! She’s not jealous because she wants to go on a date with you. That’s so wrong on so many levels!” I laughed. “She’s jealous because she’s used to being the only important woman in your life. Anyone you date is a threat to that.”

“She’s not the only important woman in my life. There’s you, too,” he pointed out, rolling on his side to face me.

“That’s different. We’re just friends, so there’s no threat of me taking you away.”

“So she’s scared of being replaced? That’s ridiculous. She’s my sister!”

“Exactly. She doesn’t want to share you. She’s afraid that if you start dating, you’ll find the girl you’re going to marry, and said girl will steal you away from Rose. Yes, I agree that the way she’s acting at the moment is just plain stupid, but surely you can see it from her point of view?”

Jasper sighed again, flopping back onto his back and throwing his arm over eyes.

“Yeah, I guess … but Bells, I don’t do anything whenever she brings a new guy home! I’d love to, because seriously, some of them deserve a good kick up the-”

“Jazz …” I warned.

“Don’t say you don’t feel the same. She deserves so much better than that garbage she brings home.”

I lay down next to Jasper, my head resting on his chest.

“I know, Jazz, but you really can’t talk. Most of the time I’m glad Rose does what she does. You really know how to pick them!” I giggled. Jasper shoved me lightly, his mouth turning up a little at the corners.

“Okay, so I don’t always have success in that department … but Cathryn was actually half decent! She knew stuff about the Civil War!”

I looked up at Jasper, noting the heaviness of his demeanour. Maybe he had finally found someone worthwhile. Or maybe not, if she had let Rose chase her away so fast.

“What did Rose do to scare her off?”

Jasper growled under his breath, a heavy scowl across his face. Rosalie was definitely not going to get out of this one too easily.

“While I was inside Cathryn’s apartment, waiting for her to finish getting ready for our dinner date, Rosalie broke into my car and planted a few unpleasant objects in it, in places that Cathryn would most definitely find them. For example, a pair of black lace panties in my glove compartment, and a few empty condom wrappers on the back seat.”

“Ouch. That’s harsh. How did Cathryn react?”

“I didn’t even get to put the car into gear. I started it up and told her to choose some music from the CD’s in my glove compartment. She gave the panties one look, closed the compartment, and got out of the car without even looking back.”

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a squeeze.

“Jazz, talk to Rose. Just make her understand that no one could ever replace her, and then she’ll leave you alone. Otherwise you’ll never get any peace.”

With a small smile, Jasper gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and hugged me in return. We lay there comfortably in each other’s arms for a few moments, pondering the situation. I silently thanked the heavens that Rosalie wasn’t my sister.

“So, what’s new on the Bella front?” Jasper finally asked, looking down at me. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week.”

“I know. Work has been pretty hectic. We’ve had so many new manuscripts come into the office over the past few days, we’ve been working overtime to try and sort them all out. I’ve read some really good ones though. It’s going to be tough, deciding which one to take on as my next focus project.”

“Any that I’d be interested in?”

“If by that you mean anything on the Civil War, then no.”

“Hey, unfair.”

“You know it’s true.”

“Touché,” he laughed. “Hey, did you manage to work out where that guy in your dream was from?”

I sat back up beside him and shook my head. “No, but I’ve had a few more dreams like it since. That’s five nights in a row now. What do you make of that?” I asked.

Jasper shrugged his shoulders and propped himself up on his elbow.

“Do you think that maybe someone’s trying to tell me something? If so, who?”

“Is that guy in all of them?”

I nodded in affirmation. “Every single one. He’s always the clearest part of the dreams. Everything else is fuzzy and blurred around the edges, but the image of him is as clear as crystal. It’s almost as if he’s right in front of me, and when he speaks, it feels like he’s speaking right into my ear. Every detail about him is just so vivid. It’s very odd; I’ve never experienced anything like it before.”

Nodding at my explanation, Jasper took in every word I fed him as I continued to tell him about each of the dreams I’d had, and I watched as his eyes glazed over, his thoughts claiming his attention. This distant look of his was something I was used to; he would disappear behind his veil of pondering, his mind racing a million miles a second to try come up with an answer to whatever was presented to him.

I felt myself drift off into the memory of the first dream, when the handsome stranger had first appeared. I had been dreaming that I was laying in a meadow of wildflowers, humming a tune to myself, when this man, this tall, bronze-haired man, had appeared. He stood on the edge of the forest, leaning against a tree watching me. It wasn’t until he began to hum the same tune as me that I noticed his presence; he began to slowly walk toward me, his emerald green eyes shining brilliantly in the soft light from the break in the canopy above the meadow. I pushed myself up into a sitting position, fascinated by this striking figure before me. I had never seen anyone so beautiful in my life.

He came to a halt a few feet in front of me and ceased his humming, looking down at me with a most dazzling smile.

“May I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the ground beside me.

I just nodded in return. My vocal chords had failed me.

All I could do was watch as this angel lowered himself gracefully to sit beside me. Our eyes never broke contact, even as he sat down; it was as though I were bound to him, unable to look away.

We sat there for what seemed like forever, when he slowly raised his right hand and gently cupped my cheek in his warm palm.

“Bella,” he whispered.

“H-how do you know my name?” I whispered in return, staring deep into the eyes of my Beautiful Stranger.

“Bella is your name?” he asked, slight confusion present on his angelic features. I nodded.

“I was merely commenting on your beauty … Bella means beautiful in Italian. It’s only fitting that you would be named so.”

His thumb lightly brushed my cheek as he smiled his dazzling smile at me once more. I leaned into his palm, allowing the sparks that erupted at his touch to envelop me completely …

I felt shivers run down my spine as I broke out of the memory. It had felt so real, that dream, and each one since had only been worse. I was starting to wonder if I wasn’t actually dreaming at all, if the dreams were somehow a reality that I lived when I was supposed to be sleeping. Did I sleepwalk? Had I exhausted myself so much in the last few days at work that I had only thought I was dreaming? Did my Beautiful Stranger really exist?

“Bells, I honestly don’t know what to make of them. There’s clearly something going on in your subconscious if you’re repeatedly dreaming about this guy,” Jasper finally said. “Why don’t you start writing them down?”

“What, like a dream diary?”

“Yeah. After each dream, write down what you remember of it. And every time you remember something else that you’ve forgotten about one, write it down. Keep the diary in your backpack,” he suggested.

I nodded at him, a smile beginning to spread across my face.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. Thanks, Jazz.”

“Who knows, maybe you could make a novel out of it?”

I gave him a playful shove, giggling.

“I’m not naming him Jasper though. He’s too good-looking to have a name like that,” I deadpanned.

Jasper dramatically fell back onto his pillows, one hand across his heart, the other palm-up on his forehead in a mock faint.

“Oh Isabella, you wound me!”

We both collapsed in fits of laughter, all seriousness temporarily forgotten as we revelled in the joy of each other’s company.

Until Rosalie knocked on the door.

“Jazz!”

“Go away, Rosalie!” he called through clenched teeth. “I have nothing to say to you right now.”

“Oh, you didn’t even know her. Get over it. She wasn’t right for you anyway!”

“I’m serious, Rose. Go away before I say something I’ll regret.”

There was an impatient sigh from outside the door. I looked at Jasper and bit my lip to hold in a giggle. I felt sorry for Jasper, but the situation was quite funny.

“Fine. Bella, get out here and help me. Emmett’s picking me up in an hour and I’m nowhere near ready to leave this house,” Rosalie demanded.

I couldn’t help it. The giggle slipped out, followed by a mountain of others. Jasper joined in, and soon we were both doubled over on the bed in laughter.

The bedroom door swung open and Rosalie stood there glaring at us, her arms folded across her chest, a deep scowl settled on her face.

Jasper laughed even harder. “Keep your face like that, Rose. Hopefully the wind will change.”

“Oh ha ha, Jasper. You’re the King of Comedy. I can barely breathe for laughing,” she said acidly.

“Guys, cool it,” I said, laughter still evident in my voice, “I don’t want to have to be the one to call your parents when you finally kill each other.”

Jasper snorted in amusement while Rosalie huffed in frustration and stalked towards her bedroom, calling out behind her, “Bella, my room, now!”

I shot Jasper an apologetic look, which he returned with one of sympathy, and I rolled my eyes as I turned to exit his room to begin what was bound to be at least an hour of primping and preening torture with Rosalie.

***

I was standing in a darkened room full of multi-colored lighting, loud teeny-bopper music and numerous blurred shapes that only just resembled people. I felt like I was going blind; nothing seemed to be in focus. Although, when I held my hands out in front of my face, I found that I could see every detail of them perfectly. It was the same when I looked down. I was wearing ridiculously high, strappy heels and a gorgeous deep blue evening gown.

I obviously wasn’t blind. So why couldn’t I see everything around me as clearly? Where the hell was I?

It was then that I felt a presence move up behind me. A pair of wonderfully familiar hands slid down my arms and came to rest on my hips, while the slightly cold tip of a nose slowly ran up and down my neck.

“You smell amazing,” murmured the voice that made my heart melt. It was Him. My Beautiful Stranger.

I felt myself relax into his arms as they snaked around my waist and held me close. He began to pepper light kisses down my neck, leaving a blazing trail of heat from my hairline to my shoulder. I closed my eyes and smiled.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I thought I was going insane,” I confessed. “Do you know where we are?”

I turned into him to look in his eyes. In the darkness of the room, they sparkled brightly back at me when hit by the flashing lights of the event happening around us, and were crinkled slightly at the corners from the heart-melting smile he was shooting at me.

“I’m assuming it’s some kind of dance. I don’t care too much for the music though. Would you mind accompanying me to the courtyard?” my Beautiful Stranger asked.

He kept one of his arms wrapped around my waist as he escorted me through the blurred crowd and out through the only other clear object in our surroundings; a silver archway that had tiny butterflies and ivy leaves etched into it, with real vines of ivy weaving around it.

The archway led to a magnificent courtyard. As my Beautiful Stranger led me out onto the cobblestones, I felt as though a light had suddenly been switched on in my head. Everything around me was now as clear as day once again. Not as clear as my Beautiful Stranger, but clear enough that I could make out details of my surroundings.

Walking into the courtyard felt like walking into the private garden of royalty. It looked so medieval and castle-like, so picturesque. Although it was small, it felt … more than adequate. The circular courtyard was paved with cobblestones and lined with rosebushes. In the centre sat an elegant water feature; a stone carving of a semi-naked angel with her hands reaching for the sky above her head, water sprouting from within her cupped hands and falling to the basin below. Water also trickled down over the stone-carved boulders upon which she sat, the sound of the running water adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the courtyard.

Nestled within a little nook in the rosebushes was a stone bench with English-style lamp posts standing on either side of it. More of the same lamp posts were stationed at regular intervals around the perimeter of the courtyard, casting a warm, romantic glow over the setting. The light reflected off the ivy-covered stone walls that encased this small piece of heaven, and cast little shadows here and there that flickered with the flames inside the lamp posts.

My Beautiful Stranger led me to the bench and we sat down together in silence. I was in awe of the beauty that surrounded me, and wondered how we had managed to get from what seemed like a room full of torture to this picture of romance and serenity. I could not even hear the music from the other side of the archway, even though there did not appear to be a door to separate the two sides. It was as though we had stepped into another dimension completely upon walking through the archway.

I did not mind one bit.

I finally dragged my eyes away from the fairytale setting and focused on the face of my Beautiful Stranger. His eyes twinkled even more at me now in the soft lighting of the lamps, and I felt my heart begin to race. The beauty of the courtyard was nothing compared that of my Beautiful Stranger.

He lifted a hand to my cheek and gently ran a finger along the outline of my jaw. A shiver ran down my spine as the searing heat of his touch reacted to the cool night air that caressed my skin. A look of concern suddenly clouded my Beautiful Stranger’s features.

“Are you all right, Bella? Are you cold?” he asked.

I shook my head, feeling a blush rising.

“I’m fine. Just a little … overwhelmed. This place is beautiful!” I gestured to our surroundings with my hand, not breaking eye contact with my Beautiful Stranger.

“Not as beautiful as you, il mio amore,” he whispered, cupping my cheek in his hand before leaning down and pressing his soft lips against mine in a searing kiss.

I slid my arms up around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting more. More of what, I didn’t know; all I knew was that this gentle kiss was not enough.

I parted my lips slightly in a sigh and my Beautiful Stranger took that as permission to give me the ‘more’ that I seemed to need. He tentatively slid his tongue inside my mouth and I instantly reacted, deepening the kiss to a more urgent and passionate expression of feeling. I could feel fireworks erupting in every cell of my body, and when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in even closer to his body, I felt like I was going to combust.

All too soon we broke away, both in desperate need of air. I rested my forehead against his, gasping as I tried to regain my breath. I felt the breath of my Beautiful Stranger on my face as he did the same, and I almost passed out from the sweet scent that was purely Him.

“Bella, you will be the death of me,” he panted, lightly brushing his lips against mine again in a quick kiss.

He pulled back from me slightly and moved one hand from my waist to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, letting his hand fall to my shoulder and absently begin to play with one of my curls. The feeling of him winding and unwinding the curl around his finger was driving me crazy and making it hard for me to catch my breath.

We sat there for what seemed like hours, just gazing into the depths of each other’s eyes. The flickering light from the lamps made his eyes look like glittering pools of liquid emerald. I could drown in those eyes and die a happy woman.

Soft, classical music began to fill the space around us, and a look of excitement filled those enchanting emerald eyes. My Beautiful Stranger got to his feet and extended a hand toward me.

“Would you like to dance?”

I nodded and took his proffered hand, rising from the bench. He led me out to a more open part of the courtyard and spun me in the face him, wrapping an arm around me waist and pulling me close once more.

So of course, it was then that I chose to accidentally stumble and fall into him, almost sending both of us to the ground. My face flushed a deep scarlet as he righted us and wrapped both of his arms around me to keep me steady.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I, er … I don’t really dance,” I mumbled in reply.

“That’s okay,” he smiled. “Just follow my lead.”

I slid my arms back up to their place around his neck and I began to sway with him in time to the music. We continued to rock from side to side, with an occasional forward or backward motion, and even a dip or two, for quite some time, spending most of the time once again gazing into the other’s eyes. He would bend down to kiss me every now and then, sending my heart into overdrive.

One of the kisses turned a little more passionate, causing me to rest my head against his chest after it ended in order to calm myself.

I brought my arms down to wrap around his waist, and felt him pull me tighter into a hug.

“You have no idea how crazy you’re making me right now,” I whispered, my eyes closed.

“I think I might,” he chuckled.

I sighed. “I don’t even know your name.”

There was silence for a brief moment, in which I felt him lean down and bury his face in my hair.

“Edward,” he mumbled. “My name is Edward.”

I suddenly felt myself being shaken lightly, and opened my eyes to find myself face-to-face with a blurred Jasper. I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times until everything came into focus. I was lying on the couch in our apartment, my head in Jasper’s lap with the end credits to a movie rolling on the television screen. I then remembered that Jasper and I had sat down to one of our “Rose is on a date so let’s veg out” nights. They were nights when Jasper and I would order take out, put on a movie and just relax together for some quality Jasper and Bella time. I must have fallen asleep during the movie. Fallen asleep and started dreaming.

But it had felt so real!

They always felt real, though. That was the unfortunate part about the dreams of my Beautiful Stranger. Edward, I corrected. His name was Edward.

I groaned and rolled into Jasper to bury my face in his stomach. What I wouldn’t give to be back in that dream …

“Bella, are you okay?” Jasper asked, stroking my hair.

I shook my head against his stomach and gripped his t-shirt with my hands.

“Wanna go back to sleep.” It came out muffled through his shirt.

Jasper laughed and leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head.

“Dreaming again, were you? What did he do this time?”

I sighed and rolled back to look up at him.

“He kissed me, Jazz. And he told me his name. I finally know his name …”

I sighed again and closed my eyes, willing the dream to stay vivid in my mind. This had been the best dream yet. Not only had I found out his name, he had kissed me. For the first time since the dreams had started, he had kissed me.

I re-opened my eyes to find Jasper smiling down at me.

“What are you doing still lying here then? Go climb into bed and bring him back!”

He chuckled and I punched him lightly in the arm before slowly easing myself up to a sitting position. I ran my fingers through my hair and yawned.

“Why do all the good ones have to be imaginary?” I asked with a pout.

Jasper shrugged and rose from the couch.

“Because normally they’re too good to be true. I’m one of those rare exceptions,” he winked. “Don’t forget to write the dream down before you go back to sleep,” he reminded me as he leaned down to kiss me on the forehead. “G’night, Bells. Sweet dreams,” he chuckled.

I threw a cushion at his retreating form, hitting his bedroom door as he quickly slid inside.

After allowing myself a moment to dwell on the dream, I got up from the couch, turned off the television and the living room lights, and entered the darkness of my bedroom.

Once I had changed into my pyjamas and finished my nightly routine, I climbed into bed and settled under the warm covers, quickly writing every detail I could remember about the dream into my new dream diary, before I drifted off to sleep in the hopes that Edward would grace me with his presence once more tonight.

Prologue

2010-02-03T21:24:00.000-08:00

I was becoming more and more bored by the minute. Every second I spent alone in this hospital room was sending me further and further into a coma of boredom. The only sounds I could hear, apart from the hum of the voices, machines and footsteps on the other side of the door, were the incessant beeping of the heart rate monitor and the steady tick tick tick of the clock on the wall opposite my bed. The most annoying part was that both the heart rate monitor and the clock were out of sync with each other; I couldn’t even have one second’s silence!

Beep. Tick. Beep. Tick. Beep. Tick.

I had only been in here for half an hour; half an hour that felt like an eternity in the land of boredom. I wished I had thought to bring a book along with me. Though, with my luck, I should have learned by now to keep one in my bag at all times. This hospital was practically my second home.

It was then that I remembered the diary; however, I had no idea where my bag was - I couldn’t see it anywhere around me in the room. I was just about to page a nurse to ask its whereabouts when the door opened and a rush of noise followed the doctor into my room. I watched as his tall frame swept towards my bed, his eyes focused on the patient chart in front of him while messy strands of awfully familiar bronze hair fell across his face, just blocking my view of his features.

“Good morning, I’m Doctor Cullen,” he began in a voice like velvet. He hooked the chart on the end of my bed and ran one hand through his hair, sweeping it back from his eyes. “You must be -”

He froze as his emerald green eyes connected with my pools of chocolate. My heart practically stopped.

“Bella?” he asked in a whisper, disbelief instantly clouding his features.

“Edward?” I whispered in return. I couldn’t breathe. “How is this possible?”

Chapter Eight - Dazzling Dan's Domain

2010-02-03T06:08:00.000-08:00

For the few days following my encounter with Dan, Tilly became increasingly curious about my apparent “aversion of men,” as she put it. I told her that when I felt like I could talk to her about it, I would, but for now I just wanted to enjoy my time in Sydney. The knowledge that I would eventually tell her seemed to appease her somewhat, but it didn’t stop her from trying to convince me to return to the bar that we had gone to that first night. She was unwavering in her belief that Dan and I had met for a reason, and that reason wasn’t just a brief exchange of words in a bar with a lack of exchanging numbers, never to see each other again. She was adamant that Dan and I had a chemistry that was destined for more.

Basically, she was trying to play match-maker.

How she came to this conclusion upon observing our short exchange of words from afar was beyond me. I honestly didn’t think that I would see him again, even if we did go back to the bar. I was quite happy to leave things as they were; a friendly encounter with a good-looking, water supplying, flirtatious man that had made my first night in Australia a delightful one. I certainly wasn’t looking for anything with Dan, although I did have to admit that he was highly attractive.

Still, Tilly was relentless and I found myself being dragged back to the bar on Thursday night.

Thursday had been a very busy day for Tilly, Sara and me. The whole week had been, really. After saying our goodbyes to Emilya on Tuesday morning, the three of us had ventured out onto the cold streets of Sydney to begin what had turned out to be an exhausting few days of sight-seeing. Come Thursday afternoon, I was a wreck. In no state to come up with a good reason why we should not return to the bar that Tilly had labelled, “Dazzling Dan’s Domain,” I had no choice but to concede to Tilly’s pressuring.

The three of us entered the bar around sunset, the orange hue of the sky making the inside of the bar appear even more homey and welcoming than it had on Monday night. Tilly’s gaze flew straight to the bar in search of the mop of sandy blonde locks that she was so eager to see again. Sara just rolled her eyes and headed off towards the booth by the window that we had occupied last time. When Tilly’s search appeared fruitless, she turned to me with a disappointed shrug.

“Maybe he’ll be here later?” she offered, a hint of hope in her voice.

I shrugged my shoulders back at her with a small smile; however, as soon as she turned her back on me to go join Sara, I felt my chest sink a little. A little part of me had been hoping that Dan would be here, and the lack of his presence actually caused a twinge of disappointment – one that I hadn’t counted on – to settle inside me.

It was a little confusing.

I glanced quickly at the bar, just to make sure that Tilly hadn’t overlooked Dan, then followed her to the booth and slid in next to Sara. The three of us found that we were actually quite famished after our day out in the city, so we decided to stay at the bar for dinner and unwind from the day.

Around two hours later, the three of us were well on our way to becoming the drunken lunatics that had surfaced on Monday night.

“Bella, it’s your shout!” Tilly cried, shaking her empty glass in front of me. “Get your arse up there and get me a refill, bitch! I can feel myself sobering up already…”

I mock saluted her and stumbled out of the booth, gripping the edge of the table for a few seconds to steady myself before turning on my heel and making my way up to the bar.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” came a familiar voice from my left. I felt a huge wave of déjà vu wash over me and my stomach flipped excitedly.

Turning my head to my left, I couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped my lips. The positions that Dan and I were in were almost an exact replica of our first meeting; he was seated on the same stool, his hair still had that wind-blown, just-stepped-off-the-beach appearance, his eyes still shimmered like clear blue pools – pools that I felt myself drowning in the longer I gazed into them – and his grin? It made me a little weak in the knees.

“You came back,” Dan spoke again, surprise evident in both his words and his expression.

“More like I was coerced,” I replied with a laugh. “My friend Tilly is very persistent.” I waved my hand over to the booth where Sara and Tilly were staring raptly in our direction. They hastily turned their heads away when they realized that Dan and I were both looking back at them. I laughed and shook my head in amusement as I turned my gaze back to Dan, who was already smiling back at me.

“Remind me to buy her a drink later,” he said with a wink. “I definitely owe her one.”

I felt my cheeks heat up and ducked my head in embarrassment, but Dan was having none of it. He slid his forefinger under my chin and gently raised my face back up to meet his penetrating gaze.

“Hey, enough of that. Your face is too beautiful to hide away.”

At his touch, I felt a little tingle where his skin connected with mine. It wasn’t much, but it was something that I hadn’t felt in a while, and I found myself excited at the prospect.

“You’re such a smooth-talker,” I mumbled, and he laughed.

“I do try,” he said with an amused shrug. A small giggle escaped my lips, causing my hands to instantly fly up to cover my mouth. I did not giggle. I wasn’t one of those girls. Those girls wore cute little skirts, and mountains of make up and jewelry, and carried little rat dogs in their circus-tent-sized handbags. I didn’t even own a handbag.

I giggled. Oh, how embarrassing.

Before either of us could speak again, thankfully, the bartender slid to a halt in front of us with a cheerful grin on his face.

“What can I get you folks tonight?” he asked.

“Can I please get one vodka orange, one rum and Coke, a vodka cranberry with fresh lime, and three shots of Jaeger?” I asked.

“Add a Jack and Coke and another shot of Jaeger to that,” Dan added over my shoulder.

The bartender nodded in agreement and started pulling out glasses from under the bar.

A silence hung between Dan and me as we watched the bartender at work. It wasn’t an awkward silence as such, but its presence was definitely one I could feel. I sneaked a quick look at Dan from the corner of my eyes to find him staring at me with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. Turning my face to look at him directly, I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly.

“I’m really glad you came back. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

The look of pure joy on his face made my heart melt a little inside. He looked so adorable right now in his vulnerable state.

“You almost didn’t,” I stated truthfully. “I wasn’t sure you were being serious the other night. To be honest with you, I was kind of hoping you weren’t …”

I watched the light fade a little from Dan’s eyes at my words. Shit.

“Any particular reason for that?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” he offered.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now,” I said quietly. “I swear, it’s nothing to do with you.”

“But?”

I dropped my head to my chest and took a deep breath before raising my gaze back to his.

“You seem to be an amazing guy, Dan, but long story short, I lost my fiancé in a car accident a few years ago, and I’m still not ready for anything more than friendship right now. That’s why I came to Australia; to move on. Please don’t think it’s because I’m not interested in you. It’s actually the complete opposite,” I said, surprising myself with my blatant honesty. I was never usually this forward with anyone, let alone with a guy I had spent no more than ten minutes with total. The fact that I was actually admitting my attraction to him while knowing nothing but his name and where he liked to drink at the end of the day was quite a shock to me.

“So you do actually like me, then?” he asked innocently with a hint of a smirk.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips. I gave his arm a shove and turned back to the bar where the bartender was setting our drinks up in front of us.

“That’ll be thirty-eight dollars,” he said.

I reached into my pocket to dig out some cash, but Dan beat me to it. He was handing a fifty over the bar before my fingers had even made contact with the bright-colored plastic notes in my jeans.

“You don’t have to do that-” I started to protest, but he cut me off.

“I owe your friend, remember? And besides, I think bringing you here has earned her more than one drink.”

“Dan …” I sighed, a pleading look on my face.

“Bella …” he retorted. “It’s just a friendly gesture, nothing more. I promise.”

Studying him for a moment – his right hand raised in a three-finger scout salute and his eyes twinkling with happiness – I came to the conclusion that he was being honest. He was so amazing that, without a second thought, he was honoring my wishes about friendship. He wasn’t going to pressure me into something I didn’t want, and that only made me like him even more.

God damn, this man was going to make it so hard for me to leave Sydney tomorrow.

“Thank you,” I said softly with a smile. “Would you like to join us? I think Tilly would strangle me if I didn’t introduce you to her.”

Dan laughed and reached to pick up the tray of drinks off the bar. “I would be honored. It would be extremely un-friend-like of me to allow you to walk into a death sentence.”

“You do realize that I’m extremely embarrassed right now, don’t you? I’m not usually this forward with someone I’ve only just met,” I told him.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I like it,” he winked.

“Oh, come on,” I laughed, leading him over towards the booth where Sara and Tilly were seated.

The rest of the night passed by in blur of laughter, Jaegermeister shots, and embarrassing stories. It seemed that, the more liquor we ingested, the more our internal filters shut off. Some of the stuff coming out of Tilly’s mouth was just plain vulgar, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care; even with some of the other patrons of the bar laughing at us or shooting disgusted glares in our direction.

At around one-thirty, the bartender came over to our booth to inform us that the bar would soon be closing. I looked around and was surprised to see that, apart from the four of us and the bartender, only two other people remained. I saw Dan look down at his watch quickly, a frown suddenly forming on his face as he realized what the time was.

“Shit,” he cursed quietly, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, clumsily placing my hand on his forearm. My vision and co-ordination were something to be desired in my drunken state.

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just didn’t realize how late it was. I have to work tomorrow … or should I say today. I need to get home,” he said sadly.

“Oh,” I said, slumping back into my seat. The knowledge that our night was fast drawing to a close made my heart sink. I was only just starting to get to know Dan and if I wanted to be really honest with myself, I really didn’t want to say goodbye to him just yet. I felt like I shouldn’t be feeling so attached to a virtual stranger, but something inside me was telling me that maybe Tilly was right; maybe Dan and I were destined for more?

I was so confused. On the one hand, I knew that I wasn’t ready for anything romantically; especially seeing as I’d only just left Jake behind in Seattle. I felt guilty about feeling something for another man, even though Jake and I weren’t technically together. But on the other hand, I couldn’t help the way my mind, or my body, reacted to Dan’s presence. I wasn’t throwing myself at him, nor would I ever stoop to that with any man, but I couldn’t not think about what the future might hold for us.

I was in deep and I’d only been in Australia for four days.

Dan’s gentle tug on my hands snapped me out of my musings.

“Are you feeling okay, Bella?”

I nodded in reply. “Yeah. I was just … lost in thought. Alcohol tends to mess with my concentration.”

Dan laughed as he helped me to my feet. Tilly and Sara had already started to make their way to the door, leaning heavily on each other for support. Clearly I wasn’t the only one affected by the number of drinks we had consumed.

Dan and I followed them out of the bar and stepped into the cold late night air of the city. The streets were well lit by the street lights, which cast a yellow glow over the pavement surrounding us. Even though it was well after midnight on a Thursday, the streets still hummed with life and the air was filled with raucous laughter, the growl of traffic, and the occasional sound of smashing glass and shrieking car alarms.

I pulled my coat tighter around my body and shivered at the light breeze that swirled around us. Noticing my actions, Dan wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

“This better?” he asked.

“Much,” I said with a smile. The warmth of his body and his thoughtful gesture helped dispel the cold instantly. “Thank you.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes, keeping a short distance between us and my two giggling roommates, who kept sneaking what they obviously thought were covert glances back at us.

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow?”

Dan’s question was laced with sadness, the quiet volume of his voice indicating that the subject wasn’t something he really wanted to discuss, yet he knew it was his only chance to do so.

I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled myself closer to him before replying with a quiet, “Yes.”

He sighed and I felt his arm tighten around me slightly.

“I wish you weren’t. I’d really like to spend more time getting to know you.”

“I feel the same,” I admitted. “I know I’ve only just met you, but I feel like … I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than a few hours. When I’m around you, it just feels …” I struggled to think of the word I was looking for.

“Comfortable?” suggested Dan. I nodded.

“Yeah. I don’t feel like I need to be someone I’m not. Then again, I’ve only seen you when I’ve been drinking, so maybe I’d feel different when I’m sober. But somehow I don’t believe that.”

Dan chuckled. “You’re a refreshing change, Bella. You’re quite unlike any other girl I’ve met. I’ve lived here in Sydney all my life, and I’m surrounded every day by girls who think they need to wear clothes or makeup to transform them into someone else; they dress and act to impress, to make people like them. That annoys me. I despise people who lack individuality and sense of self. These city girls are all the same, clones of each other. You’re not like that at all. I’ve seen more of who you are in a few hours than I saw in my ex-girlfriend in the four years we were together.”

I blushed at his words. “I’m not very good at concealing my thoughts or emotions.”

I felt myself lurch forward a little as Dan stopped walking abruptly. He turned to face me, placing both of his hands on my shoulders.

“Bella, I meant that as a compliment. I love that you’re so open. Tonight has been the most fun night I’ve had in a long time, and I’m not just saying that to be nice. I truly have enjoyed myself with you and the girls. I wish you could stay.”

Before I could think about what I was saying, I heard myself blurt out, “Come to Brisbane with us!” When it registered in my mind what I’d said, my hands flew to my mouth in shock.

“I’d love to,” Dan chuckled, rolling his eyes at my embarrassment, “but unfortunately I’ve got a job that I’m stuck in right now. I could come visit though.”

“I’d like that,” I replied, smiling shyly up at him.

Dan resumed his position beside me, arm wrapped around my shoulders again, and we walked the last few hundred feet to the hostel where Tilly and Sara were waiting. We stopped a few feet in front of them and they giggled.

“Come on, Bella, we have to get up early enough to pack tomorrow! We’re going hoooooome!” Tilly cried into the night, breaking into giggles as Sara tried to shush her.

“You girls go inside. I’ll be in soon,” I told them, waving them inside the door.

“DAN! You’re awesome! You should come party with us again sometime!” Tilly practically shouted. She threw herself on Dan in a drunken hug, stumbling as she lost her footing and almost knocking Dan over. Luckily he was fairly steady on his feet and gripped Tilly’s hips to help her regain her balance.

“Whoa! Careful there, Tilly. You should warn a guy before you try mounting him in the street,” Dan winked.

Tilly roared with laughter and gave his shoulder a forceful shove in what she must have thought was a playful gesture. Dan staggered backwards at the force. Stepping up close to him, Tilly suddenly became serious and pointed a finger at him in warning.

“No funny business with my Bella here, do you hear? You say your goodbyes and go on home like a good boy. I like you, Dan, but if you use your charming ways to convince her to accompany you anywhere for a little ‘last night in Sydney hanky panky,’ I will hunt you down. Got it?”

She looked so serious, her five-foot-three frame hardly conducive to intimidating Dan’s towering five-foot-eleven build.

Dan mock saluted her.

“You have my word, ma’am. No hanky panky.”

“Good. It was nice to meet you, Dan. Bella, you’ve got ten minutes before I come out looking for you,” Tilly warned, before turning on her heel and grabbing Sara by the wrist to drag her inside.

“G’night Tilly, Sara!” Dan called after them.

“Goodnight!” came Sara’s voice faintly as the door closed behind them.

Dan turned to look at me; we stared at each other in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“I can’t believe I agreed to follow them to Brisbane,” I breathed, my lungs stinging a little from the cold night air. “Am I crazy?”

“Based on what I’ve just witnessed … yes, I’d say you are. But only a little,” he winked in reply.

I sighed. “Is it too forward of me to say that I’ll miss you?”

“Why don’t you stay here? I’d be more than happy to let you crash on my couch while you got yourself sorted.”

“I can’t, Dan,” I said quietly, my chest aching a little as I did. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a wonderful time here, but I just don’t feel like it’s the right place for me to stay. I’ve got a good feeling about Brisbane.”

Dan stepped forward and took my hands in his.

“Can’t fight those gut feelings,” he said with a small smile. “You’ll keep in touch though, right?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely! Where’s your cell? I’ll give you my number.”

Dan pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and handed it to me; I entered my Australian number, prank called myself, and then handed the phone back to him.

“There we go! Now we have no excuse,” I grinned.

“I’m going to miss you, Bella,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. I slid my arms around his middle and hugged him in return.

“I’ll miss you too, Dan.”

We stood silent in our embrace for a moment, savoring the warmth and peace our contact provided.

“Travel safe tomorrow,” Dan said as we withdrew from each other’s arms. “Send me a text when you get there.”

“I will,” I replied. I stood up on my tip-toes to kiss him gently on the cheek. “Goodnight. Thanks for the pleasure of your company tonight.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

With one last smile and a kiss to my forehead, Dan turned on his heel and strode off down the street, leaving me standing alone outside the hostel. A sudden chill swept through me at his departure, and I knew it didn’t have anything to do with the weather.

I sighed heavily, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. I pulled my key card out of my pocket and made my way through the hostel to room 103 where my bed – and my new friends – awaited me.

As I lay in bed, the light of my cell phone’s tiny display cast a small glow around me in the darkness of the hostel room and I smiled at the name on the screen before my eyes. I had added Dan’s number to my phonebook after changing into my pyjamas and climbing into bed, and not ten minutes later Dan had sent me a text message.

With the sound of my roommates light snores echoing around me, I re-read the message.

In the dark of the night, on the cold lonely street, he sets off alone and leaves her behind. Yet he knows this is not goodbye … it is only the beginning. Sleep well. Dan xx

~*~

The following few weeks passed in a blur of job interviews, new friends, and finding my way around a new city. The Brisbane public transport system was fairly easy to navigate – once you knew how – and I found myself absolutely loving my new home.

As promised, Tilly had secured me a job as a receptionist at the hostel she managed, just while I looked for other work. She insisted that the job was mine for as long as I wanted it, and really, I didn’t need to look for anything else. However, as much fun as working at the hostel was, I really needed to find something a little more challenging. I missed my job back in Seattle already; I craved it. I was desperate to get my hands on an un-edited manuscript and start editing the crap out of it.

There were a few small editing companies that I had submitted my résumé to, and I had scoured the newspapers for any other jobs were available. Some of the newspapers and magazines had positions for part-time and casual editing staff advertised, so they all received a copy of my résumé too. Unfortunately, most of those jobs were snapped up very fast, so I had started receiving letters that read something along the lines of, “Thank you for your application. We regret to inform you that the position you applied for has been filled …”

I had only been in the city for three weeks though, so I wasn’t giving up just yet.

Dan and I had been calling and text messaging quite often since that last night in Sydney, and I found myself becoming more and more attracted to him. I eagerly awaited any contact with him, and my stomach would flip excitedly every time I saw his name flash up on the screen of my cell phone.

It wasn’t long before my friends back home knew about my new “interest.” A video Skype chat with Alice a few days after my arrival in Brisbane had alerted her to my change in demeanor.

“There’s definitely something different about you, Bella,” Alice said, her brow furrowed in contemplation. “Something’s happened …”

“Nothing’s happened,” I insisted. “I’m just really enjoying myself here. Tilly and Sara -”

“You’ve met someone!” she gasped loudly, excitement filling her eyes. “You’ve met a guy, haven’t you? Oh, tell me all about him!”

I rolled my eyes. “There isn’t a guy, Alice.”

“Oh yes there is! You can’t hide it from me, Bella Swan! I don’t care what you say … that look on your face is not the result of making a few new friends. What does he look like? What does he sound like? Ooh, what’s his name? I’ll bet it’s something totally sexy and Australian …”

I snorted at her last comment. “Sexy and Australian? His name’s Dan. Short for Daniel. Like the thousands of other men in the world.”

“Mmm, Dan …” she moaned. “That’s so hot. Is he cute? Oh, I knew it! I knew there was a guy! Bella, I’m so happy for you!” A distorted squeal came over my speakers as the pitch of her voice in her microphone messed with the connection.

“Alice, calm down or you’ll make Skype explode. And don’t get too excited over it … we’re just friends. We met at a bar in Sydney, got drunk together, I moved to Brisbane. End of story.”

I watched the slightly pixellated Alice on my laptop screen sigh heavily and fold her arms over her chest.

“End of story my ass,” she muttered. “Have you kept in contact with him?”

“Yeah, we text,” I replied reluctantly, knowing she’d make a huge deal out of it.

“Ha! And I’ll bet you get excited every time your phone chimes!”

I tried to fight the grin that threatened to expose me, but I failed miserably. I closed my eyes and laughed.

“Oh, Alice, he’s just amazing. He’s funny, sweet, down-to-earth … and he’s got my emotions running wild. I just don’t know what to make of it all! I feel so guilty feeling this way about him when I’ve left Jake in Seattle, not to mention I almost feel like I’m cheating on Edward …”

“Stop right there,” Alice demanded, her expression serious. “Firstly, no guilt over Edward. He wanted you to move on, to be happy, and that’s what you’re doing. You’re doing so well! The old Bella is emerging from the darkness; do NOT let her retreat back inside that funk. Secondly, I know that things with Jake got a little … I know that you and he have a close relationship. I know there’s an aspect of it that went beyond normal friendship, that you became quite intimate. But I also know that you weren’t in an actual relationship with him, and that you told him not to wait for you. So don’t keep yourself for him either, not if you’ve found someone else who makes you happy. You can’t lock yourself away like that, Bella! You shouldn’t feel guilty for being attracted to another man, especially when you’re not in a relationship to begin with. You’re young, you’re single, and you’re on the other side of the world! Forget everything else! You’re starting fresh over there, remember? Make the most of it.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. You’re right. I just … don’t know. I really do like Dan, but he lives so far away.”

“It’ll work out somehow,” Alice said happily. “Everything always does. You never know; you might meet someone even better than Dan.”

Laughing, I said, “Doubtful! I swear to God, Alice, this guy is like pure sex …”

The rest of the conversation consisted of an Alice-style inquisition, in which every detail of Dan and my encounters with him was discussed thoroughly. She briefly touched on how everyone else was doing back home, and Jasper had jumped into the conversation next to Alice for a few minutes, before I had to say goodbye to get ready for my next reception shift.

Talking to Alice had made me come to a few realizations, and I felt myself starting to become a bit more confident in myself and my decisions. The phone calls between Dan and me became longer and more flirtatious, and we had started to discuss future visits. None had been set in stone, but it was enough to know that it would happen at some point.

~*~

“If I could just get you to sign in here,” I said, pointing to the open pages of the guest book. “We just need your name, nationality, passport or ID number, your address, and your contact email address.”

The Japanese couple began to write their details into the book and I turned away from the desk to take the keys to their room out of the key cupboard. Finally finding the correct ones, I closed the cupboard doors and turned back to the couple.

“I’ll also require a ten dollar key deposit, which you’ll get back once you check out,” I informed them.

“We have to pay for the key?” the male of the couple asked, a slightly confused look on his face.

“It’s just a deposit, in case you lose the keys. We will return the ten dollars to you when you hand the keys back to us once you check out,” I clarified. This seemed to satisfy him, as he reached into his money belt to pull out some cash. After rifling through the wad of bright-colored plastic notes, he pulled out a blue one and handed it over.

I took it from his hand and placed it inside the corresponding envelope in the box beside the till. I held the set of keys up in front of him and began my spiel.

“This large key is for the door to your dormitory. The square key is for a locker inside the dorm, which is labelled with the same name as your allocated bed. You’ll be staying in room 3F, which is up on level three. If you go through this door,” I gestured towards the door to the right of the reception desk, leading to the stairwell, “and up two flights of stairs, you’ll come to level three. Room 3F is the third door on your right. You’ll be in the beds labelled ‘Southbank’ and ‘West End’.”

“Is there an elevator?” the woman in the couple asked.

I nodded in reply. “If you go through this door and turn left, the elevator is located opposite the stairs. Just press the button for level 3. We also have a kitchen downstairs if you wish to cook your own meals while you’re here; we just ask that you clean up after yourself. Feel free to make use of the lounge as well. Also, check out will be at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to use the hostel’s facilities after that time, but you will need to be out of the room by ten-thirty. We have luggage storage if you wish to leave your bags here while you go out and explore the city.” I gave the keys to the couple and smiled at them. “The hostel is open twenty-four hours a day, and there’s always someone here on the desk, so if you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come down and see us.”

The couple smiled at me in return, thanked me, then wheeled their luggage through the door beside me and disappeared down the hall.

After finishing the check-in process for the Japanese couple - finishing off the paperwork and making sure that everything was in order - I sat down in front of the computer to check the hostel’s emails. A few more new bookings had come through, so I printed off the relevant information, followed the processes online, then began to write the new bookings into the book.

I was halfway through when the phone rang.

“Hello, River City Hostel, Bella speaking.”

“Hullo Bella, it’s Sean here,” came a familiar Irish voice down the line.

“Oh, hey Sean! What’s up?” I asked. Sean was the manager of one of our sister hostels, located only a few streets away. Even though he had been living in Australia for over fifteen years, his Irish accent was still as strong as ever.

“I’ve got a young lad here wantin’ to stay for a few weeks, but we’ve not got the room. I thought you might have one of yeh long-term beds available for him.”

“Hang on, I’ll just check,” I replied, flipping the bookings book open to the current day’s date. I ran my finger down the page, looking at the availability.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Sean,” I answered finally. “We’ve got a few spare beds in the male long-term dorm, so send him on over!”

“Oh, you might want to try keep this one around as long as yeh can, Bella. He’s quite a handsome lad. Would charm the pants off of you and keep yeh bed warm at night …” teased the Irishman.

I rolled my eyes and felt my cheeks heat up a little.

“Sean, you just keep your little leprechaun nose out of my love life, okay? I keep my bed warm enough all by myself,” I scolded playfully.

“Ah, but this lad would warm it up the fun way.” I could hear Sean’s smirk from the other end of the telephone.

“Just send him over, Sean,” I laughed.

“Right-o! Hey Bella, are you girls heading over our way tonight? Amy’s got one killer of a quiz lined up,” Sean said.

“It’s Wednesday! Of course we’re going to be there. As long as you’ve got the beer, we’ll bring the fun.”

Sean laughed. “I’ve got the beer all right. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t get you girls drunk before eleven on a Wednesday night.”

I laughed again and added, “And you wouldn’t get the quiz crowds if Tilly wasn’t guaranteed to take her shirt off at some point during the night. You dirty old man.”

“Hey, enough of that …” Sean warned with a chuckle. “Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Make sure young Sara brings that man of hers along too. I’ve yet to meet the illustrious Drew.”

“Will do! Are you sending that guy over here now?”

“Yes, once I stop harassing you I’ll send him on his way,” replied Sean.

“Okay, thanks, Sean! I’ll see you tonight,” I said cheerfully, and pressed the ‘end’ button on the cordless phone before placing it back down on its dock. Smiling to myself, I continued where I had left off with the new bookings.

I was down to the last one when the door to the hostel opened and a slight breeze blew through, gently rustling the papers on the desk. Thinking that it was probably the guy Sean had sent over, I rushed to finish off the last booking before handling his check-in.

“Just give me one second, I’ll be right with you,” I said without looking up.

“Not a problem. I’m not going anywhere,” responded a familiar voice.

My head shot up and I felt my jaw drop.

“Dan? What are you doing here?”

Chapter One

2010-02-03T01:06:00.000-08:00

I stood behind the counter daydreaming, my eyes unfocused as my gaze fell unseeingly through the glass windows of the storefront. All of the shelves had been stocked, the drink fridges full to bursting, and every surface of the store was gleaming from the multiple unnecessary cleaning fits I’d had that morning.

I was on summer vacation from college in Seattle, where I studied English Literature, and had decided to try and earn a little extra money before I returned in the fall. The only job that had been available was this one at the only gas station in my hometown, Forks; the reason why I was now spending every day of my vacation bored out of my skull due to the lack of customers. I was at a complete loss as to why I’d taken the job. There was an endless list of things I’d rather be doing, rain or no rain.

The people of Forks really needed to get out more. The only regular customer I had was my dad, Charlie, and that was only because he was the Chief of Police and actually used his cruiser for patrolling. That, and driving to and from La Push, the Indian reservation, to visit an old family friend, Billy Black. Oh, and his fishing trips.

How depressing. My dad had more of a social life than me, and he lived in Forks all year round.

I think I might actually go insane.

Pulling my iPod out of my backpack, I hooked it up to the old set of speakers that sat on a very unstable-looking shelf on the wall behind me, and turned it on to a playlist of my favorite classical music in an attempt to drive away the waves of insanity that threatened to crash over me.

I began to sway slightly to the music and returned to staring into nothingness, my thoughts drifting to what I was going to do on my days off later in the week. Maybe Angela, my best friend, would be free to come to Port Angeles with me.

My mind had drifted to the books I’d need to read for my next semester of college, and I began to wonder if I’d be able to find them in Port Angeles when a short honk of a car horn interrupted my musings.

Looking up, I found old Kevin sitting in his battered old car, smiling over at me with that endearing toothless grin of his as he waited for me to bring his daily newspaper out to him. I grabbed it off the side counter and carried it out with me.

“Good morning, Kevin!” I smiled warmly at him.

“Hello, darlin’. How are you?” he asked in his southern drawl.

He was one of those old men that made you just want to squeal in excitement over and hug the life out of. There was something just so grandfatherly about Kevin that made me all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m very well, thank you. And you?” I asked in reply as I handed him his newspaper.

“Oh, can’t complain. How was your weekend, darlin’? Did your boyfriend take you out anywhere special?”

I blushed and rolled my eyes at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Kevin.”

He looked shocked. He had obviously forgotten that I had told him the same thing last week.

“You don’t? How can a beautiful young girl like you not have a boyfriend?”

I shrugged, feeling my face grow even hotter. I hated any mention of my non-existent love life. It’s not that I chose to be single; I just hadn’t met anyone in Seattle. I was quite content with my single status, to be honest.

“It’s hard to find someone when you work in a place like this,” I joked, laughing nervously.

“The young men will be tripping over themselves to line up before you as soon as they find out you’re working here.”

This was embarrassing. Kevin had already gone around telling all of Forks that young Bella Swan was still single, and now he was going to insist that all the strapping young men in town come down to the gas station and line up for a date.

No thanks.

“I’m still young, Kevin. I’ve got all the time in the world to find a boyfriend. Now, are you going to pay me for that newspaper or am I going to have to fork out for it myself?” I teased.

“You can take care of it today,” he grinned as he handed me a few coins.

I laughed and reached through the window to lightly squeeze his shoulder.

“Thanks, Kevin. You have a lovely day now, okay?”

“Thank you, Darlin’. See you tomorrow.”

He raised his left hand off the steering wheel in a wave as he drove off. Shaking my head, I walked back inside with a smile on my face. It was customers like Kevin that made my day bearable.

Upon returning to my spot behind the counter, I resumed my daydreaming. All the images my mind was now conjuring were based around Kevin’s words. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself as I pictured the young male population of Forks lining up outside the store to ask me out to dinner. That was definitely not going to happen, and even if it did, I would make myself disappear as fast as humanly possible. I just wasn’t cut out for dealing with that kind of attention. I preferred to blend into the background.

My daydreaming was once again interrupted when I was momentarily blinded by a flash of light that reflected off a car pulling into the driveway.

I automatically walked out across the driveway to the windshield water bucket and picked up the squeegee. Turning my attention to the car, I froze. Sitting before me was a brand new, shiny, silver Volvo.

I just stood there, staring at it, while the dripping squeegee hung by my side creating a puddle of soapy water by my feet.

“Are you okay?” a magical voice asked me.

I turned my head slightly to my left to look at the owner of said voice and almost passed out right there. He was absolutely the most stunning creature I had ever laid eyes on: tall and lean, with just enough muscle mass to avoid appearing lanky, messy bronze hair that made him look as though he’d just rolled out of bed after a tussle in the sheets, and brilliant emerald green eyes that sparkled in the rays of sunlight that had somehow managed to escape the cover of clouds.

Forget Greek Gods. This man was … I couldn’t even find the words in my head to describe his beauty, his magnificence. If Volvo Guy (as I had so aptly named him) and Adonis went up against each other in a Battle of the Beauties, there would be no competition; Volvo Guy would win hands down.

Realizing that I was gaping at him, I quickly closed my mouth and turned my gaze back to the car. I lifted the squeegee up in front of me and proceeded to drop it straight back by my side again.

“Miss?” Volvo Guy asked, “Is there something wrong?”

“I’m just trying to work out how I’m going to clean your windshield without touching your car,” I replied. Noticing his confused expression, I elaborated, “I don’t want to break it.”

He chuckled.

“I’m sure a simple windshield cleaning won’t hurt it. She’s a pretty tough car, this one.”

“You underestimate my clumsiness,” I said, instantly regretting the confession of my greatest fault. “There are many ways I could accidentally damage your car. For example, I could -”

And before I could even finish my sentence, I tripped over nothing, my stumbling causing me to kick the bucket of dirty windshield water at Volvo Guy, sending the dirty water all over him and his shiny car.

I was horrified. I had done exactly what I had been in the middle of telling him I was capable of doing. Damn my clumsiness. I often wondered if it made me eligible for a disabled parking permit.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I cried, rushing over to the paper towel dispenser. I pulled out a large handful and ran back over to a now sopping wet Volvo Guy, trying to mop the water off him. I was trying to brush it off his trousers when he reached down and grabbed my wrists, stilling my hands.

I looked up at him, noticing the proximity of my hands to his crotch, blushing furiously.

“I’m such a klutz! I’m really, really sorry, sir! I told you …” I mumbled angrily, more to myself than to him. I still could not believe I had just done that.

He gently pulled my hands away from his trouser-clad thighs and took the paper towel from me as he helped me to my feet, all the while smiling down at me.

I stood back from him, holding my arms behind my back; I did not want to risk doing anything else to or near him and his fancy car. One embarrassing act was enough for the hour; I didn’t want to make it two in less than ten minutes.

“Hey, no blood no foul,” he laughed.

I groaned, “Yes, but your clothes, and your car …”

“All easily washed. Please, don’t worry about it. It was an accident,” he insisted.

“I still feel terrible,” I said.

“Please don’t,” he replied. “I promise you, everything is fine! The Volvo needed a wash anyway.”

He shot a dazzling smile at me, making my heart stop and my knees go weak. If I didn’t remove myself from his presence soon, I was not going to be able to finish my shift. As it was, my face was permanently flushed. I felt like such a fool.

“You’re just saying that,” I mumbled, heading towards the entrance of the store. A few customers had entered since my rather large mishap, for which I was most grateful. They gave me an excuse to escape the current situation with Volvo Guy.

I could hear him chuckle as I left the driveway.

By the time I had finished serving the customers, I had calmed down somewhat and did not feel as flustered as I had in his presence. That was, until I realized he was standing just inside the door watching me. I felt my face heat up instantly as he walked towards the counter, towards me.

He reached the counter and paused, a bemused smile on his face.

“Clair de Lune …” he said quietly to himself. “You listen to Debussy?” the question directed at me.

I shrugged, feeling the dreaded flush in my cheeks intensify.

“It helps calm me down. Clair de Lune is my favorite.”

“Mine too,” he replied softly, smiling to himself as though lost in a memory.

He then directed the full power of his dazzling smile at me, citing, “Pump number three, thank you,” as he handed me a few twenty dollar bills.

I took them from his hand, carefully trying to avoid any form of contact, and processed the transaction on the computer with fumbling hands. Handing him his change and receipt, I risked making eye contact with him and instantly regretted it. I definitely would not be able to get those eyes out of my thoughts now.

We stood there in silence for a moment, staring deep into each other’s eyes. The pull I felt toward him in that moment was so strong it was all I could do not to launch myself over the counter at him and kiss him senseless, maybe even drag him into the deserted office and have my way with him. However, the service buzzer sounded, jerking me out of my highly inappropriate fantasies and breaking the connection between my eyes and those dazzling pools of green.

I glanced out the window to find a little old woman waiting by her car for me to go out and serve her.

“I’d better get back to work,” I mumbled, stepping out from behind the counter with a sigh. Volvo Guy nodded and began to walk towards the door beside me.

“Thanks for the wonderful service. I had fun,” he grinned, before leaving me at the door.

I watched as he strode over to his now not-so-shiny Volvo, got in, and drove away.

I allowed myself ten seconds to regain my composure, putting on a big smile as I walked over to fill the little old woman’s car.

“Good morning! How are you today?” I asked politely, silently willing the image of Volvo Guy to disappear from my mind. After this afternoon’s events, I highly doubted I would ever see him again, and as perfectly gorgeous as he was, I did not want the image of him to haunt my dreams for the remainder of my stay in Forks.

I knew it was pointless though. I knew that every time I came anywhere near the gas station again, the thought of him would instantly appear in my mind.

It was going to be a long summer.

The Realm of the Fallen

2010-02-03T01:03:00.000-08:00

Written for MsKathy’s "TwiFans for Haiti" Compilation
Posted publicly for MTK's Reader Appreciation Day.

To all my dedicated readers - thank you. *hugs*

“Come on! It’s just through here,” he said excitedly, tugging her hand a little harder in an attempt to get her to move faster. They were running through the forest at a speed that she could only just keep up with. She found herself stumbling over the upraised tree roots and young saplings that protruded from the detritus covered forest floor.

“Can you slow down a little? I’m going to- WHOA!” she cried as she lost her footing entirely and tumbled to the ground, her hand breaking contact with his. Screwing up her face in expectation of the pain she was about the receive, she was suddenly surprised when she felt a pair of familiar warm, strong arms enveloping her instead of the cold, hard forest floor she had prepared herself for.

Looking up, she saw the sparkling eyes of her brunette angel gazing intently down at her.

“Are you okay, Rosie?” Emmett quickly asked, his eyes doing a swift sweep over her body for any sign of injury. Satisfied that she wasn’t seriously harmed, he returned his gaze to her eyes. Rose felt a shiver run down her spine, lighting her insides on fire. Forget the fact that his touch felt like naked flames dancing over her skin; just a simple flick of his eyes in her direction was enough to send her into her own pleasurable hell.

“I – I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. She was absolutely taken with his ethereal beauty. Never before had she met a man so breathtaking, so ... Beautiful was an understatement; Rose did not think there was even a word in the English language to describe her angel’s beauty. His curly brown locks sat in a perfectly messy array atop his head, slightly longer curls hanging delicately across his forehead and over his ears. Though his muscles were clearly defined with small veins visible through his skin, the pale epidermis was smooth as silk. His touch was so gentle, one would think he was half his actual physical size.

His eyes were the selling point of his physical attributes. They were a deep, golden brown that saw right through the outer layer of a person and deep into their soul. Every time he looked at Rose, she knew that he could instantly attune himself to her feelings and emotions. Some might have found this trait uncomfortable or invasive, but Rose found it endearing, mesmerizing. She loved that he knew exactly where she was inside her head without her having to voice it. She could look into his eyes forever and never get bored, never want to look away. She found it hard enough to tear herself away from his gaze as it was.

Helping her back to a standing position, Emmett kept a hold of her hand and smiled at her. Rose’s insides instantly melted and she felt her knees buckle a little. He caught this, gripping her arms to steady her, and a look of concern flashed across his features.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can carry you the rest of the way – it’s just through this clearing here,” he offered.

Rose shook her head to clear it a little. This man did terrible things for her coherency. “No, I can walk. I’m not the needy Lois Lane to your Superman. Like you said, we’re almost there. I think I can manage.”

Emmett winked playfully at her Superman reference and lightly tugged her hand, leading her forward.

They walked at a slower pace through the clearing in the forest and Rose noticed that the trees were beginning to thin, sunlight shining through the ever-expanding spaces. As they reached the edge, Emmett stopped abruptly in front of her, causing her to run into his expansive chiselled chest.

“Holy sh- Emmett! What have I said about the random sudden stopping? Warn a girl before you make her smear lip gloss all over your clean shirt.”

Emmett looked sheepishly down at her. “Sorry. I was excited! You’ve got to close your eyes before we go any further. You need to get the full effect at once.”

He stepped behind her and clasped his hands tenderly over Rose’s eyes, blocking her vision. He carefully nudged her forward, his chest pressing against her back and causing a delicious friction that sent currents of excitement through her veins.

A few steps forward and he stopped her, keeping his hands over her eyes. Rose felt the heat of the sun beating down on her, its warmth a pleasant welcome after the constant rain of the previous few weeks.

The couple lingered for a moment, pressed against each other and soaking in the peace of the moment and the comfort of their closeness.

Emmett lowered his head slightly to whisper in her ear, “Surprise.” He lifted his hands off her eyes, and their surroundings left her instantly speechless.

Before them stretched a seemingly endless landscape which Rose could only describe as paradise. They stood on the edge of a large cliff, the forest that they had just emerged from spanning out behind them. Below and a little to the left of them was a roaring waterfall, the beautiful clear blue water crashing satisfyingly over the cliffside to a large pool a few hundred feet below. The pool broke off into various streams and creeks surrounded by endless green rainforest and pastures, all kinds of tropical flora and fauna inhabiting the enchanting space.

In the distance, Rose could spot a structure of some sort rising up out of the greenery. Upon closer inspection, she gasped in surprise, “Emmett! Is that a – a castle? Here? In Washington?”

Emmett pursed his lips, unsure of how to phrase his answer.

“Yes and no …” he began. “You see, Rose, we’re not technically in Washington anymore …”

“What?” She whipped around the look at him, not sure if she had heard him correctly.

“We’re in my homeland. The path we just took through the forest? Only we – my people, that is – can come out of it here. Your people would just continue to follow the forest for another few miles and come out in another dreary part of Washington,” Emmett explained.

Rose cocked her head at him in confusion.

“You mean, we travelled through some kind of other realm portal or something ridiculous like that?”

Emmett shook his head. “No, not …” he sighed. “Yes, we have travelled through to a different realm, but not in some science fiction black hole type way. The natural energy that surrounds my people allows us to enter through cracks in the walls of your realm, granting us access to lands that your people cannot reach.”

“Then how come I was able to come through?” Rose asked.

“Simple. I was touching you. By keeping some form of physical contact with you, my natural energy extends to surround you as well, temporarily giving you the protection of my people. I guess you could say that, under my touch, you are temporarily considered one of us,” he grinned, running his forefinger gently down her arm.

“And when we break the contact?”

“We break the connection.” Emmett lifted his hand from her arm, breaking all physical contact with her. “Right now, you are completely free of my protection. But when I do this -” he threaded his fingers into her silky blonde hair, cupping the back of her head and pulling her closer to him. “- you are completely under my power.” He tenderly pressed his lips to hers in a brief but searing kiss. “See?” he whispered. “See what our connection does?”

Rose felt Emmett slip the fingers of his free hand into her own and tore her eyes away from his as he brought their joined hands up to their chests. Looking down at their hands, she drew in a quick breath at what she saw. Hovering a few millimetres above their skin was an electric, pale gold barrier. She took a little step back and inspected the rest of her body, finding the barrier surrounding her completely.

“How have I not noticed this before?” she breathed. “I mean, I felt the – the connection we had, but I just thought that was -”

“Chemistry?” he chuckled. “In a way, it is. You see, Rosie, I don’t do this with all the pretty girls.”

She shot him a glare.

“No! No, I’m not saying -” he said quickly, grinning at Rose’s expression. “What I mean is, this connection we have, this “chemistry” if you will, only happens to my kind once in their lives. It’s not a common occurrence.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Emmett. Am I just some freak of nature, some irregular chemical reaction?” she said, the frustration in her voice mounting with every word.

Emmett took a small step forward to close the distance she had put between them.

“No, Rosie, you’re not anything of the sort. You … you’re special. I’m not really explaining this well, am I?” he sighed. He led them over to a cluster of small boulders in the shade and sat them down atop the smoothest one. He kept their fingers linked and began to rub his thumb gently back and forth across the back of her hand.

“My people are not all one hundred percent immortal. We haven’t been since our arrival on Earth. When my ancestors first fell from the Above, it was do a certain job, to make up for an action that had displeased the Elders. They were assigned to one of your people - the mortals - to assist them in achieving different life tasks, make them see the light in their actions and whatnot. My people haven’t all had to do so in a few centuries now, but that was our original purpose on Earth. Every now and then someone new will fall and have a task to complete before they can join us properly, but for the most part we just inhabit this planet as your people do. Only, in our own version of it.

“Because of the tasks my ancestors had to complete upon arrival on Earth, they all had an abundance of contact with the mortals, finding friends in the people they helped, building lives with them until their task was complete. However, many of them found in the mortals a connection that they could not fathom, yet they could not bear to break. So that’s how my people began to pro-create. My people found in the mortals what you would call their ‘soul mates,’ and then proceeded to carry out normal loving relationships with them. It was by accident one day that some of my ancestors found a crack in the walls of your realm, thereby discovering this realm. Finding this paradise made them curious and lead to the task of investigating other entrances.”

“How many entrances did they discover?” Rose asked curiously.

Emmett chuckled. “In the U.S.? Around fifty. There’s roughly one in each state. Internationally, there are thousands. Australia, for example, has around the same as the U.S. Japan has about fifteen. Ireland has ten. Russia has around seventy. Each country has multiple entry points,” he explained.

“And is this realm separated by oceans or whatever, like my realm?”

“Yes, but not as much. In this realm, we have our own ‘countries’ for lack of a better term, but nowhere near as many as your realm. We’ve got our own leaders, too, but for some reason we don’t have as much conflict as your realm does. Don’t get me wrong, we do have disagreements, and when we do, they’re not exactly the smallest or friendliest of battles. But they’re a rare occurrence.”

“Do you all have different accents?”

“Yes, to some extent.”

“And -”

“Do you want me to finish telling you about our connection, or do just want to keep asking me insignificant questions?” Emmett asked with a hint of amusement.

Rose huffed and pulled her hand from his. “They are not insignificant!”

“But they’re not really important to the story I was telling you, are they?”

Rose rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Just get on with it.”

Emmett chuckled before continuing. “As I was saying, my people began to find all these entrances to this realm and got excited, so word began to spread. Mortals began following my people, but would disappear as soon as my people crossed through the cracks. They discovered that the mortals did not possess the energy to be able to pass through the entrances, and so they thought that they would experiment and see what would happen if my people accompanied the mortals across. Everything was fine until my people each began to accompany more than one mortal into the realm. Every mortal after the first that one of my people brought in would die the second they crossed the threshold. It was then that they discovered that they could each only bring one mortal into the new realm with them, and only that mortal for the rest of their existence. This left many of my ancestors torn, because quite a few of them had brought a mortal that they did not have ‘the connection’ with over the threshold, meaning that the mortal they did have ‘the connection’ with was stuck on the outside, in your realm. My people could come and go as they pleased; however, most of them felt more at home in this realm and found more pleasure in it than in the mortal realm. Quite a few of my ancestors chose to spend the rest of their existence in the mortal realm, which is how my people discovered the main difference between the two realms. In this realm, we live on as immortals. In your realm, we eventually become mortal. The longer we spend in your realm, the more we lose our immortality. The second we cross into this realm, our immortality is immediately restored.”

“Couldn’t your ancestors have just visited here every now and then and restored their immortality, then gone back to the mortal realm?” Rose asked.

“They could have, yes, but put yourself in their shoes. If you had a choice between living a full mortal life and dying with the person you loved, or living forever, watching the one you love grow old and die, which would you choose?” Emmett raised his eyebrows at Rose, watching as she took in the ultimatum.

“I’d choose mortality,” she said slowly, looking deep into Emmett’s eyes. She could see, from the way that he was looking right back at her, that he would choose the same thing.

“So … what happened to the mortals who entered this realm then?” she asked tentatively.

A huge grin spread across Emmett’s face as his favourite part of the story came into question.

“They gained immortality,” he said simply. “Some of the mortals who gained access here from my ancestors ended up staying. Some of them were the ‘soul mates’ of those of my ancestors who had brought the right mortal in, others were mortals who met their immortal ‘soul mates’ in here. All the others ended up returning to the mortal realm and living their mortal lives.

“Now, because we know how the realms work, my people only bring a mortal in if they’ve got ‘the connection.’ Otherwise, no mortal enters. Some of my people end up finding their ‘soul mate’ with another immortal, and have no reason to leave this realm, let alone bring a mortal in.”

A silence fell between them for an extended moment, Rose trying to process all the information Emmett had just imparted on her. She let her gaze wander over the landscape before her as she tried to find the right words to phrase what she wanted to say.

Avoiding Emmett’s eyes, she asked, “So … so I’m the only mortal you’ve brought in here?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And … I’m the – the only mortal you can ever bring back in here again?”

“Yes,” he repeated.

“So … I’m …”

Emmett carefully positioned his thumb and forefinger under her chin and lifted her face to his. Staring deep into her eyes, he said, “You’re it for me, Rosie. You’re my soul mate. Forever.”

Rose could not blink. She could not breathe. Her angel had chosen her to spend the rest of eternity with. Surely this was all a dream. She pinched herself hard and winced slightly, causing Emmett to chuckle.

“You’re not dreaming, Rosie.” He pulled her close and cupped her cheeks with both of his hands. He stroked her cheeks lightly with his thumbs, and then drew her in for a long, passionate kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered once he’d ended the kiss, his voice full of emotion.

“I love you too, Emmett,” she replied, her voice barely audible. She brushed his hair back from his forehead, staring lovingly up at him. “I love you so much.”

Emmett captured her lips again, pulling her body flush against his and holding her tight. Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself relax into his physical show of emotion.

After a moment or two, they broke apart, gasping for air. With foreheads resting against each other, both whispered their affirmations of love again before falling into a content, breathy silence.

“What does this mean for us?” Rose asked, breaking the silence.

Emmett shrugged. “Whatever you want it to mean. Personally, I want you here with me forever.”

Rose sat back from him, a sudden look of panic on her face.

“But what about my family? My friends? I can’t just disappear!” she cried.

“Shh, relax,” Emmett hushed, grabbing her hands in an attempt to calm her. He held them firmly, caressing the backs with his thumbs. “We can come and go as often as you like. The decision is yours, Rosie. I will gladly give up my immortality to spend a mortal life with you in your realm, if you wish. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend forever with you here.”

“Living here, will we age? At all?” she asked.

Emmett shook his head. “No. Not if we stay in this realm. If we frequent the mortal realm, though, we’ll begin to appear as though we’re ageing. Though, technically, we wouldn’t be.”

“Exactly how old would we look?” she asked warily.

“That depends on how often we visit the mortal realm. If we live here, but return to the mortal realm to visit your family every week or so, we should look no older than forty or fifty by the time we’re finished ‘ageing’. If we don’t visit the mortal realm, we won’t age at all.”

“How does the ageing thing work? I’m still a little confused.”

Emmett nodded with a smile. “Every time we leave this realm and enter the mortal realm, we begin to inherit traits of the mortals, which mainly involves ageing. Say we do enter the mortal realm once a week for the next fifty or so years, to visit your friends and family. We will age at a slower rate than they will, but we’ll age enough so that it won’t be too noticeable. And really, it’ll just be our outside appearance ageing. Inside, we’ll stay as young and strong as we are today, because we’ll be re-entering this realm so often. It’s just to keep up the pretence when we’re dealing with mortals. You know they can’t find out about my kind, and us visiting your family in fifty years time still looking as we do today would definitely raise suspicion.”

Rose nodded and pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, lost in contemplation.

“So if I decide to live here, with you, we can still visit my family? Whenever I want?”

Again, Emmett nodded. “We can visit them as often as you like. I will have to accompany you at first, until your transition into immortality is complete, but after that you’ll be free to come and go as you please. You won’t need our physical connection to access the entrance.”

“And we can still have our forever?”

“Yes, Rosie. We can have it all.”

“Oh, Emmett …” she sighed, tears clouding her eyes. “It all seems so perfect. Too perfect! What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. Don’t be fooled, though. It’s not as perfect as it seems. We still have our everyday annoyances, just like the mortal realm. Bills, housework, mowing the lawn … We just have less rain,” he winked.

Rose laughed and placed a brief kiss upon his lips.

“I love you.”

“Well, damn. I wasn’t expecting that …” he said in mock disappointment. Rose playfully slapped his forearm, a smile tugging at her lips. “I love you too, Rosie. Now, what do you say to taking a little tour around my hometown?” He got to his feet and extended a hand to Rose to help her up.

Rose looked from his hand to his face, and a large smile spread across her features. She slipped her hand into his proffered one and allowed him to help her up.

“Lead the way, Superman,” she smirked.

Emmett laughed a full belly laugh as they stepped, hand in hand, out into the sun. Rose gasped as the sun hit them, and stopped dead in her tracks.

“Your – your wings! They’re actually real!” she cried in surprise, her eyes fixated on Emmett’s back.

For the first time since she had met Emmett, she was seeing what he had only been able to explain to her. He was indeed a fallen angel, and the grey gossamer wings that extended from his shoulder blades were proof of it.

She reached out and gingerly ran her fingers over the dull feathers, their soft strength surprising her. She thought his wings were delicate, fragile things, but in reality they were as strong as steel. The golden barrier that hovered over her skin was present over his wings too, giving them an ethereal appearance.

“They used to be gold, before I fell,” he explained, “but they changed once I left the Above. I think they look more manly this way,” he said gruffly, lowering his voice for effect.

Rose laughed, followed by a squeal as Emmett scooped her up in his arms.

“Welcome, milady, to the Realm of the Fallen. I am your guide, Emmett, and today I’ll be showing you the dirty secrets of the world’s hidden immortals!” Emmett boomed, walking towards the edge of the cliff.

“How exactly are we getting off this cliff?” asked Rose, eyeing the nearing edge of the cliff circumspectly.

“I may not be Superman, Rosie, but I can still fly,” he winked. “Hold on tight, sugar!”

With that, he stepped over the cliff’s edge, his wings carrying them gracefully across the sunny open plains of their new forever.