Chapter 1 : Don't Think Twice
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Well, after what seemed to be two or three months of a boiling cauldron full of writer’s block, life obstacles, and homework, I have finally been able to start up writing again. I know I shouldn’t exactly be getting started with a new project when I have three others to be working on, but I couldn’t help it.
Yes, before you read this, I would like to tell you this is very, VERY AU, as well as crossed over with…wait for it)….Twilight! Now, I’m not a fan of Twilight, and it’s been ages since I first read the book series, but I never really hated them either. I’ll be honest, the concept behind the story is good, the writing however, could’ve been better. WAY better. But ignore my ramblings. I just wanted to let you know what kind of story this was before you read on forward (because I am aware that Potter-heads and Twi-hards sometimes aren’t the best of friends.)
Also, you’re probably wondering, “hey if you don’t like Twilight, why are you writing about them?” Good question. To answer that, I’m not sure. I’ve only recently picked up on some HP/Twilight crossovers, and I can see that good stories can be achieved, no matter what the fandom is. Am I saying my crossover is good? Definitely NOT, but I wanted to experiment, to play with characters and get it out my system. I’d love to know how you feel about my spin on the intertwined fandoms.
As for my plan on this story, it isn’t going to be very long. It would just pose as an experimental short story, preceded with great gusto. However, I will make considerations into extending it once I have finished, depending on other’s feedback/opinion. As for my other stories, updates will be following up pretty quickly, so yeah. I’ll leave you to enjoy this chapter now, and I apologize for you having to deal with my ramblings. ENJOY!
October 31, 1981
“I think it’s time to put Harry to bed now, love.” Lily said as she approached from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She had just finished cleaning and putting away the dishes after Remus had left two hours ago. The young woman could feel her husband rolling his eyes at her as she folded the towel and placed it upon the breakfast counter. James Potter always wondered why his beautiful wife would take the time to scrub the dishes one by one, the soapy water making her delicate fingers wrinkly and soggy. In fact, those wrinkly fingers were running through his hair right now, and he can feel her cool fingertips massage his scalp.
“Did you hear me, love?” Lily asked, but her tone was not stern. It was light, playful, and also slightly teasing. James looked up to face his wife, who was grinning straight at him. Shaking his head, he allowed a guilty smile tweak the corners of his mouth upward.
“Nope, honestly, I didn’t.” He said serenely, making Lily laugh and gently swat his shoulder. But the swat was instantly replaced by her lips as she gently rested them on his cheek. As ridiculous as it sounded, especially for a man, James had to admit—it was the gentle, yet loving, surprise kisses like this which still made his insides melt.
“Mum-ma! Da-da! Kiss!” their son remarked out loud and clapped his hands. Lily pulled away from her gleeful looking husband and watched in admiration as James leaned forward, his arms outstretched for Harry to waddle his way into his arms. Their Harry. Her and James’ child. If she were to ever go back in time, to just talk with her younger self, poor teenage Lily would’ve suffered from a stroke if she found out she married “that arrogant toerag,”
Lily chuckled at the thought. In all honesty, being married to James was wonderful, and if anyone said James was otherwise, she would always be more than happy to point out every small detail they missed about her husband.
“Oh, Mrs. Potter, what are you smirking about?” James teased playfully, situating Harry comfortably on his lap. Harry clapped his hands before reaching for his father’s spectacles, tugging on them slightly, making them go askew.
“Oh, nothing, love.” Lily sang before standing up. “But I really think it’s time for Harry to get to bed. We don’t want him getting used to staying up late, do we? And it’s getting extremely close to midnight.” She watched as her husband stood up as well, Harry’s small arms wrapped around his neck.
“I think it’s time to say goodnight, little buddy.” James whispered, before pecking Harry’s soft forehead.
Scar-less and innocent.
Harry blinked at his father, slowly comprehending what he just said.
“Bed time?” Harry asked. James grinned at his son and gently ruffled Harry’s hair, which was becoming quite long and unruly like James’.
“Yes, Hair-bear, it’s bed time. If you want to be like me, you need some big-boy sleep!” at that Lily let out an unattractive snort and James’ attention looked up to her smiling face.
“I think one James Potter is all I can handle for now.” She said, sending a playful wink at her husband, while James playfully stuck out his tongue. “Come now, Hair-bear, it’s time to get you ready for bed. Say good night to daddy!” she whispered loudly, giving her son a slight Eskimo kiss. Harry giggled and turned to his father.
“’Night da-da!” he said waving, and James watched them both disappear down the hall and up the stairs. Exhausted, he threw down his wand on the coffee table and stretched, yawning. He didn’t understand why he was so tired, when all he did was stay at home under the command of Dumbledore. James scowled slightly and messaged his temple. He wanted nothing more than to step outside and breathe for once. But perhaps his anxiety would die down after a good night’s sleep. He felt his knees buckle under him, but as soon as he collapsed down onto the couch, the door was blasted open.
Adrenaline kicked in, and within a split second he sprinted for the hall, his heart pumping, and he could feel the blood pounding in his brain. He was on time crunch, and every second counted, yet he seemed to forget that he left his wand on the coffee table…
Lily, who had heard the explosion underneath her, came out of the nursery, Harry still in her arms, wrapped in his favorite blanket…
*“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off.”* Lily had come to the foot of the stair case only to hear the bone chilling laugh and her husband who had spun around, only to find a tall, hooded man approaching him, his wand aimed high towards James’ chest.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Voldemort snarled, his tone relentless, and a jet of green light illuminated the hallway walls, hitting James squarely on the chest. And from there, time seemed to have slowed down for the newly widowed woman, who watched her husband fall, his lifeless body just falling like a collapsing tower. This man…the man she loved…the father of her son…
“JAMES!” She screamed, the tears of both shock and instant grief building in her eyes. “NOOOOO!” and in horror, she watched as Voldemort kicked her lifeless husband aside, proceeding his way up the stairs.
“My lovely Lily,” the voice from underneath the hood drawled tauntingly. “I’ve heard so much about you.” And though he whispered, his voice seemed to echo throughout the house—rebounding off the walls. “Tell me, is this where you’ve been hiding all along? Why, I’ve missed you and your husband’s frequent little attacks on us. The Order has lost a brave man tonight.” Lily could hear the bitter sarcasm in his voice, but can also feel the Dark Lord’s happiness in terms of achievement.
It was then when Lily knew she could no longer stay—she couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Blocking her mind with as best she could, she wondered how far she could apparate without splinching herself and her son…
“Just give me the boy,” Voldemort whispered the bargain, and Lily quickly backed up. Think…think… She thought desperately to herself. If only she had her wand with her. But she wasn’t going to check her pocket for it now. If she dared pull it out, Voldemort would be sure to take it as a threat, and kill them both without a second thought.
“I said, give me the boy.” He repeated once again, and Lily could tell he was losing patience…She could go to the Forest of Dean…
“Give me the boy, silly girl, or I will kill you as well!” and as the hooded figure had reached the top of the staircase, Lily’s back had hit the closet door.
“THEN KILL ME!” She screamed, clutching onto the toddler in her arms. “Kill me like you killed him, but not Harry.” She could feel the tears brimming in her eyes. It seemed as if he had reached his decision, because at that moment, he raised his wand, ready to chant the irreversible curse. To kill them all. And again, time seemed to have slowed down for the witch whose back was against the door...
Oh, please, Merlin, if you have any mercy. She begged to herself, and closing her eyes, she pictured a woody forest, the sounds of a river running, and the smell of pine in the air with dried leaves at her feet. The Forest of Dean. With her grip on her son, she snapped her fingers, and with a loud crack, she disappeared; the killing curse hitting the closet door a split second later, blowing apart the west half of the house, leaving Voldemort thwarted and shrieking in defeat.
Meanwhile, the second her feet hit the forest floor, she clung to Harry and ran—never looking back.
“Well, I’m not going to lie, Sanguini was…” Emmett Cullen scratched the back of his neck in search for a word choice.
“Interesting?” Jasper completed for him in a quiet whisper. The Cullens were sitting around in a gorgeous rental cabin out in the middle of the Forest of Dean. Carlisle was invited by an old acquaintance to visit England and it wasn’t long until the Cullen family booked their flight for Europe. It was of course, only a weekend trip, because as nice as it was to stay, they knew their instant disappearance would only call for trouble, especially because five of the vampires were posing as teenaged children, attending a human high school out in Portland, Oregon.
“Well,” Alice began cheerily. “I’m not sure about you guys, but I think we should hunt tonight if we’re leaving tomorrow. Especially you, Jazzy.” When Jasper raised his eyebrows, she flounced forward and took him by the hands. “Come love; let us find what the forest has in store.” Not able to say no to his wife, Alice led Jasper away from the living room and out the cabin, gently pulling the front door shut behind them.
“Let’s just hope it’ll help keep Jasper in control.” Edward murmured, recalling how often he had to grip his brother’s shoulder in order for him to relax. The fact that they were surrounded so closely by humans didn’t make things any easier for Jasper either. It made him twitchy and uneasy. Edward recalled how Alice’s fingers were permanently laced around Jasper’s for the whole journey as well. He could only hope the flight tomorrow wouldn’t be as bad.
“Nah, don’t worry about him, Eddie.” Emmett said as he drew an arm around a blonde whose name was Rosalie. “Jazzy will be just fine. He’s been doing great for so long now hasn’t he?” Edward snorted at the irony of this statement. However, before he could open his mouth to retort, the front door flew open and a windswept looking Alice and Jasper had dashed into the living room.
“Well, that was a short hunt.” Emmett prodded playfully, but Alice paid him no attention. Instead, she turned to face Carlisle, whose eyebrows were raised in questioning.
“She had a vision, but she wouldn’t tell me.” Jasper said, and though his expression was lost and confused, he managed to keep his tone calm and strangely, soothing.
“There’s a woman. She’s running from someone.” Alice whispered. Turning around, she made the effort to lock eyes with each person sitting before her. “I couldn’t see her clearly; all I could see was that she was desperate to get away. She needs help. She’s somewhere in this forest,”
“And we’re supposed to help her?” Rosalie asked, frowning. Her eyes held a slight message of contempt and hesitation.
“Rosalie, please.” Alice began. She already knew that Rosalie was against the idea of helping a strange and random mortal whose captor could be capable of anything. In fact, Alice, herself, didn’t know why this vision bothered her so much, but there was something about this mysterious, screaming woman that made Alice want act upon something. “I have a really bad feeling that the outcome would be horrible if we can’t help her soon.” Alice pressed desperately. Rose crossed her legs and pursed her lips tightly. There seemed to be no changing her mind.
And then Alice’s vision glazed over as she stared into space. She was watching through the point of view of the mysterious woman’s chaser. From far behind, she could only make out the figure of the sprinting woman, and something bobbing up and down on top her shoulder. The vision was incredibly blurry with random, fuzzy, blinding lights flashing everywhere. But if anything was to make up for the vision’s quality, it was the sharp, cold, voice that echoed through the forest.
“You Mudblood scum! Foolish little girl, you have gone too far. As punishment I will kill you slowly, painfully until your lungs and heart breaks. Until your mind is nothing but a shell. Until you sink into the soil, moist and turned muddy by your own vile blood. Then your son…my dear you have chosen to die in vain!”
There was then a loud thump and a woman’s ear-piercing screams filled the dark woods. There was the sound of a mirthless man cackling, more screaming pleas from the tortured woman, and the sound of a child crying entered in the cacophonic chorus. A child. No, not even old enough to be considered a child. A baby.
Alice came back to reality, gasping for air, only to find herself being supported by her husband. If it was even possible, she could’ve sworn his skin had gotten paler than before, but his look of terror couldn’t be matched by the darkened expression of Edward, who, out of curiosity, joined the view of Alice’s vision.
“Love! Alice, what did you see?” Jasper demanded, cupping his wife’s small face in his hands. Alice looked up to Jasper, eyes brightly shining with newfound fear. Worry. Anxiety.
“He’s going to kill them.” She whispered hoarsely. Jasper winced. Her emotions were too much for him to handle, causing him inability to cease her worrying soul. Edward’s emotions weren’t helping the environment either. “I can feel it.” Alice croaked. “He’s chasing them, right now.”
“Them?” Esme asked, fully alert, now standing with her husband.
“The child.” Edward whispered in a strained attempt. At the mention of a child, Rosalie had leapt up on her feet, eyes blazing with determination. “He’s going to kill her and her baby child.”
*Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, ppg.343, U.S. Edition
All characters and everything else you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer