CHAPTER THREE:

England, Wiltshire: the Death Eaters

The room was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering most of the stone floor. Pale-faced portraits in ornate frames decorated the walls. The room itself was full of silent people, sitting at a long and ornate table. The room's usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror and many candles, all burning weakly.

Three of the people sitting there would barely be recognizable by those who had once known them. Lucius Malfoy's skin appeared yellowish and waxy in the firelight, and his eyes were sunken and shadowed. Sitting beside him, his wife was pale with sharply jutting cheekbones, her long blonde hair hanging limp around her face. Finally, to the right of the once oh-so regal Narcissa Malfoy was Draco Malfoy; looking young and skinny. His hands, hidden under the table, were shaking violently, and his grey eyes were bloodshot.

In his trembling fingers, he was clutching an object as if from it he was gathering all the courage he could possibly muster. He was not the only one at the table to be doing so, but while most were clenching onto their wands with iron grips, Draco Malfoy held a daisy.

Unexpectedly, a foul draft burst through one of the high-placed rear windows, snuffing out all the decaying candles strewn about the dank space, the roaring fire spluttering out to ashes.  The air suddenly grew noxious and fetid, as a dense black smog swirled around the head of the tables. The occupants drew in a collective breath.

Out of the smoke materialized Lord Voldemort, his crimson eyes burning bright. Around the table, collective spines straightened at the sight of their leader.

"I am..." began the Dark Lord, his voice barely louder then a whisper. Suddenly a few Death Eaters were flung from their stools like ragdolls; the bodies nearly cracking the plaster of the ceilings and walls. Bones cracking on impact made sickening sounds like the snapping of twigs. The table and its contents sprung up from the floor and instantly exploded into a maelstrom of splinters and glass shards. Hands flew to shield faces and eyes as the once silent room was plunged into complete and utter entropy. Blood poured from freshly formed wounds. Bright flashes of red erupted rapid fire from two pallid hands concealed within the darkness.

When the lights settled, the candles burst to life once more, fire springing up in the hearth. Writhing, groaning bodies were now strewn across the floor, and before them all stood one.

"...disappointed." Came the final word, slipping like tepid sludge from the paper-thin lips.

-

-

Last Chapter:

They round the corner, Charlie and Billy, and I can literally pinpoint the moment Billy realizes the Cullens are present- his face shuts down, his upper body tensing in tightly restrained anger.

"Charlie," his voice is stiff, a sign that he is angry- very angry, "what the hell's going on?"

"Billy," Charlie says, looking both serious and pained, "I'm sorry, but this is an intervention."

Now:

"Intervention?" Billy demanded, gruffly, eyes shifting uneasily from Carlisle and Esme, then to Charlie and I, then back to the Cullens again. Despite the fact he was trying to hide it, everyone in the room could see his fear of the vampire couple; fear and hatred. "What the heck are you talkin' about, Charlie?"

"Billy, we've been friends a long time- longer then either of us probably care to think about. Which is why I'm confused as all hell about your attitude towards the Cullens. Yeah, they're vampires, but they're not bad- you think I'd let my daughter date one of them if I wasn't a hundred percent sure of that fact?" demanded Charlie.

"It ain't hard to understand- they're vampires, Charlie!" growled Billy, "Evil bloodsucking leeches! They're abominations! They're not even human!" He looks challengingly over at Carlisle and Esme, as if daring them to say otherwise.

"You realize how discriminatory that sounds, right?" I ask, unable to keep quiet, even though I probably (definitely) should. "And it's hypocritical!"

"How is it hypocritical?" Billy growls.

"Uh, let me think, maybe because your son isn't human either?" I say sarcastically.

"What?" Charlie asks- actually, 'yelps' is probably a better description of the sound he made.

Billy and I ignore him.

"Jacob's nothing like those leeches- he's human as I am and Charlie is, just with something extra!" argues Billy.

"That's bullshit, Billy! Humans can't just change their entire body mass, shifting into wolves the size of horses! He's closer to the Cullens, then he is to you!" I argue back.

"Jacob turns into a wolf?"

Charlie is ignored again.

"He is not like one of your filthy vampires!" Billy shouts, "He is nothing like those murderers!"

"The Cullens aren't murderers! They feed on animals- just like you do! You eat meat, right? What's the difference between drinking the blood and the eating flesh? Personally, I think eating the flesh is far grosser!" I shout back.

"Can you tell me that none of the Cullens have ever killed a human being?" demanded Billy.

"I have never ended the life or touched the blood of a single human in the three hundred plus years I've been alive." Carlisle says, involving himself in the 'conversation' for the first time since Billy and I started shouting at each other.

I probably should have invited Jasper instead- he might have been able to keep everyone calm...ish.

"And can you tell me that none of your 'kids' have ever killed a human?" Billy gives Carlisle a look of disgust. 

"No, I cannot. But I can tell you that every life taken was mourned deeply, and the losses were unintentional." Carlisle says, quietly, bowing his head slightly. 

"See!" Billy shoves a finger in Carlisle's direction, face triumphant. "They're killers! He admits it himself!"

"Those deaths were out of their control! Completely unintentional! Not unlike a- a car accident! An accident that, though tragic, is out of the driver's control, and often occurs through circumstances they'd wish never had come about, and that they fully regret!" 

"They're abominations!" Billy says darkly. "The world would be better if they never existed!"

"You've already said that three or four times- do you seriously have no other argument then they're 'abominations' for why the Cullens are supposedly evil, bloodsucking leeches?" I challenge heatedly. "The Cullens are better then a whole lot of humans are- murderers, rapists, abusers, pedophiles, wife-beaters; they're the real abominations, human beings who don't have any excuse for acting the way they do! The Cullens defy their most basic of instincts so as to not harm anyone, that's more then a whole lot of humans can ever say!" 

"They are murderers!" Billy repeats, "and if hell exists, that's where they'll burn, along with all the other monsters out there- human or creature! Nothing excuses murder- nothing!" 

My blood runs cold, and when I speak, it isn't the angry shout from before, but rather a low voice, shaking slightly with barely controlled rage and pain. "You don't think there's ever an excuse for murder? What about your son, I assume he's killed a vampire before." 

"They're not human," Billy snaps.

"Oh, but the foulest dregs of humanity are, and therefore killing them counts as murder?" 

Billy meets my eyes, his cold. "Yes." 

I stand up abruptly, and my chair skids backwards, almost toppling over. "Well guess what, Billy? I'm an abomination too- I killed two humans. They were evil, planning on either imprisoning, torturing or killing me- or probably all three- so I shot them dead. And by your standards, that makes me a monster. So you can just fuck off, you fucking arsehole! I don't ever want to see your fucking face again!" My rant steadily grows in volume until by the end I'm shouting. My sight has gone blurry, and I angrily rub my eyes with the back of my sleeve, wiping away the tears.

"You have one of the largest infestations of wrackspurts I've ever seen, Mister Black." Luna says, and I look over at her, shocked by how strong and sharp her voice is. Her silver eyes are clear and intent as they pierce Billy's, almost eerie in their single focus. "I think you should leave until it's cleared up." 

"I'll drive you home." Charlie says, abruptly, standing up. "Then you should take Luna's advice- you're my best friend, but I don't want to talk to you until you've got your head screwed on right."

I leave the room, sending Billy a final glare. He at least has the courtesy to look shocked, with hints of regret and sympathy, but I just don't care right now.

-

I was crying angry tears. Nobody looks attractive when they're crying, but I imagined I looked particularly terrible, with puffy, bloodshot eyes, a streaming nose and mussed hair from the pillow I'd buried my face in.

I feel the moment the mattress dips, and cool breath brushes against the back of my neck as Edward gently kisses the flushed skin between my shoulder blades. Slender, icy fingers follow the path of my spine, and I can't help but shiver slightly, finding the movements oddly erotic despite my current emotional state. As if sensing where my thoughts are going, the trailing fingers stop, and Edward speaks up, his voice oh-so concerned.

"Bella, my love, you are not a monster. You could burn the world to the ground and I would still never believe that someone with a heart as pure and beautiful as yours could ever be evil. If there's a heaven and a hell, you'll spend your afterlife in the clouds, love."

I roll over so I'm on my back and push myself up, sort of awkwardly, so I'm slumped in Edward's arms. He cradles me carefully, like I'm made of glass. Which I sort of feel like I am at the moment, with misery thick and heavy in my chest.

"I suppose only the good die young." I say, morbidly, with a sort of huffed laugh, my joking, albeit flat, tone belying the way I'm clinging to Edward like I'm about to shatter into thousands of pieces. Edward stiffens.

"Bella," he says, slowly and carefully, "what do you mean by that?" I can feel my heart beating in my chest, wild and out of beat, and like it's telling me how many times I'd come close to death. Edward lifts a hand, the tips of his long, elegant fingers pressing gently over it, feeling what must be mouthwatering, wet thudding.

"All those close calls I've had." I mumble. "Eventually one of them will stick."

"Never," Edward says, and his voice is dark and strong, and he pulls me around and looks at me with his golden eyes, looks at me like he's not seeing my swollen, tear-streaked, stuffy nosed, currently entirely unattractive self, instead seeing something... breathtaking.

I exhale shakily as he leans down and kisses me, softly and sweetly, over and over again. He pulls back after a moment, still holding me in place, but I'm not ready for the moment to end. Instinctively, my hand moves to his head, fingers running through his hair, as I force him right back to me. He makes a murmured sound, not fighting it, and kisses me deeper. Soft and sweet turns firm and frenzied, the once feather light kisses now almost brutalizing my lips with the sweetest of violence.

When we part, my breath is heavy and my body feels hypersensitive in a way that makes me want to plaster myself on him, to feel his cold tongue trailing from my collar-bone down my chest, to my rock-hard nipp–

"Bella," Edward's velvety voice interrupts my fantasy, and I look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "I love you." He says, and I feel the tears return, stinging my poor eyes.

"I love you too," I tell him, meaning every word I say, "I need you to promise me something, Edward,"

"Anything," he vows.

"If I die- no, don't interrupt, just listen; if I die, you have to promise me that you'll live. Promise me that, Edward. Promise so that even if I'm not alive in this world, at least my heart is."

"Bella..." Edward's voice is agonized.

"Promise!"

"I..." almost panicky, he looks down at me, his hands trailing through my hair. "I- Bella,"

"Luna. Alice. Angela. Katie. Esme, Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, Carlisle... live for them, for me."

"I promise." Edward says, quietly. I sigh.

"Tonight was a disaster." I mutter. Edward hums softly.

"I'm sure there have been worse dinners."

"Really?" I ask doubtfully. "Like what?"
"Well," he says, and I can hear the amusement in his voice, "the dining scene from Alien comes to mind.

I bury my head in his chest as I laugh, feeling the hard marble beneath my cheek. "Thank you." I mumble against him, and he runs a hand through my hair in a soothing, repetitive motion. His chest is moving up and down as he breathes air he doesn't need, will never need, and for one brief, unattainable moment, I pretend I can hear his heartbeat, the steady sounds lulling me to sleep.

I never realize I haven't asked Edward about Alice's earlier vision.

-

Luna and I are younger, smaller. We're in the front yard of the Rook, gardening, and Luna's wearing a truly horrific set of eye-gouging pink robes, trimmed in yellow lace with a large lime-green lily fascinator and purple fishnet cloak and we're laughing together, everything is light and happy. And then faceless figures in dark robes wearing white skull masks surround us. Red light hits me and pain, so much pain... Luna is screaming and screaming and I look over at her just in time for the Rook to explode in a ball of fire, burying my best friend in rubble. Now I'm screaming and screaming and suddenly I'm holding a gun in my hand. Death Eaters fall to the ground, blood exploding out of them like geysers, spraying meters in every direction. And then the mask falls off one, and it's Luna's face looking up at me, Luna's blood leaking everywhere, and I'm screaming again, kneeling next to her, my hands desperately pressed against her chest, blood spurting between my hands, soaking them, but Luna's chest is still, her heart isn't beating, the world is burning around me and-

-and I wake up in a cold sweat, a scream on my lips, heart stopping in fear, with the phantom pains of the Cruciatus Curse. My own shrieks of dream agony lingered in my ears, and strangled noise escapes my mouth as I jolt up from the dream (nightmare). In a fraction of a second, I just know this was one of those times.

I can feel it, the way all of my senses suddenly hone and sharpen and flare.

I gasp for air, my chest heaving as I struggle to breathe, my stomach twisting up so much I start coughing and dry heaving, nothing in my stomach present to come up. My heart is racing and I can't feel my fingers anymore. My eyelids flutter, then snap wide open as my fuzzy mind eventually detects more presences in my personal space. 

A surge of pure panic washes over me, causing my mind to leap over miles at the terrifying aspect of having another present at my vulnerable moment. 

"Bella, Bella, Bella," I recognize the voice, velvet and comforting, cold arms pulling me against a hard chest. "Breathe, Bella, love."

Small, thin, warm hands stroke my hair, and someone's humming softly. I curl up in the cold arms that are cradling me, and wait for the panic attack to pass, held in the embrace of my best friend and true love.

When I can finally breathe again, I manage to stumble to my feet, Edward supporting me as I sway, trying to get my balance. "Love?" he asks, and I mumble something that sounds a bit like 'bathroom'- I hope. I can't really tell.

I splash my face with cold water, leaning against the sink, breathing heavily. My hands are small and pale, clenched around the sink's edge, and they're shaking. I hold them up, staring at them, and I can almost see Luna's blood on them. It's without thinking that I turn the tap on and start scrubbing at my hands, trying to get the blood off my hands, out from under my nails and in my nail beds.

'Out, damned spot! Out, I say!—'

"Bella, Bella love- there's nothing on your hands-" Edward says, gently grasping my wrists, but I struggle fiercely until he lets go, lest he hurt me. "You're imagining it," he tells me, but I can see it, I can smell it, and I keep scrubbing, even as the skin turns red and raw, then splits at the base of my nails. 

'Here's the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, Oh, Oh!—'

"Bella, you're hurting yourself." Edward's voice is stern, and this time he doesn't let me pull out of his grip, instead forcefully guides me back to my room. Luna is sitting on our bed, looking pale but alive, and Edward releases me as I curl up next to her, hugging her tight.

Luna hums something under her breath, then starts singing softly, an old wizarding lullaby her mother used to sing her. Eventually I fall back asleep.

-

I wake up tired, swollen-eyed and distinctly unhappy at around ten. Luna is curled up at my side reading one of my old paperbacks, giving me a small smile as I glance at her, while Edward is sitting, leaning up against the headboard, running his fingers through my hair, almost like he's stroking me like a kitten. "Good morning, love." He says quietly.

"You're half right." I say, before sighing and wriggling over so my head is in his lap. He pauses in his movements briefly, before continuing with the stroking.

"I assume you won't be going to school today?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Not today."

"Do you want me to stay here with you?" he offers, but I shake my head again.

"I just... I think I'll just sit on the couch eating ice-cream and watching movies with Luna." I decide. "We've been planning on having a day or two together, anyway." Edward nods and kisses my forehead.

"I'm surprised Charlie didn't wake me up," I say, looking over at the clock as he stands up. Edward huffs out a grim sort of laugh.

"With the way you were screaming and crying last night, I'm surprised he didn't stay home himself. It took Luna about thirty minutes to convince him that yes, he should go to work today."

"Oh." I say, quietly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Edward offers, and I shake my head- violently.

"No! No, not... not yet. I'm not ready." Edward kisses my forehead.

"Okay, love. Just... know that you can tell me anything."

"I know- I love you, Edward."

"I love you too, Bella." Edward vanishes out the window, and I turn to Luna, who has carefully placed a bookmark in the paperback.

"So... a movie day. That sounds lovely." She smiles at me.

-

"Am I a bad person, Luna?" I ask her. Luna and I are cuddled up on the couch, with some sort of rom-com playing on the TV that's plot I'm barely concentrating on, but so far it's been fairly predictable.

"What makes a person bad?" Luna muses, resting her cheek on my shoulder. "Do you feel like a bad person?"

"Yes." I say glumly. She pats my cheek.

"Well that's your answer."

"I am a bad person, then." I slump back into the cushions, feeling even more dejected then before. Luna looks at me, puzzled.

"No, silly Miss Masen, you're a good person." She says, as if it's incredibly bloody obvious (it's not). "A bad person wouldn't think they were a bad person, therefore if a person thinks they are a bad person they are probably a good person."

"I... sort of get that." I say, slowly. She smiles fondly at me.

"Stop letting those wrackspurts make you all woebegone." She kisses my cheek, and snuggles into my side. I wrap an arm around her and snuggle right back.

"I think I'll go back to school tomorrow." I decide.

"I do think that's a good idea." Luna agrees, "It would never do to let those pesky umbigular slashkilters get a foothold."

"Exactly." I smile at her, before turning my attention to the television screen. "I bet you five knuts he ends up with her." I point. Luna peers at the screen.

"But they don't love each other." She frowns.

"No, but they want each other. Those sort of romances would never last, but it's kinda nice to hope, you know. That's why they make them." Luna looks thoughtfully at the screen and is silent for a long moment.

"Do you believe in true love, Bella?" She asks, suddenly. I blink, surprised by the unexpected question, but I truthfully answer almost instantly.

"I love Edward with nearly everything that I am. I'd do anything for him." I tell her, honestly.

"What if he asked you to do something you didn't like? Like... hurt me?" Luna presses. I frown, feeling concerned about where this conversation is going.

"But that's exactly why I can say I'd do anything for him, Luna. Because I know he'd never ask me to do something like that. I trust him with everything I am and everything that's important to me- that includes you and Charlie."

"Ah," Luna nods, face startlingly open and serious. "I... I think I understand."

"Why do you want to know?" I ask her, feeling concerned.

"I am... attempting to figure something out." Luna confesses, "I think I might love someone, but I'm uncertain if love is what I feel. I read in one of the books in your room that to love is no matter what a person does to you, you still couldn't hate them; not if they killed your loved ones, tortured you, took your life, or destroyed your soul." I instantly shake my head.

"No, Luna, god no, that's not love, that's... that's a whole different bag of cats- a psychologist's wet dream! Codependency, obsession, possible Stockholm Syndrome... that's not love, Luna." I tell her, before concentrating on an earlier part of her statement. "Wait, what? Luna... who do you think you're in love with?" I ask, wide-eyed.

I'd always viewed Luna as Utterly Asexual. She'd never ever been an overtly sexual being, had never displayed romantic interest in anyone and I wasn't sure if she'd even kissed a boy (or girl) yet.

"I don't know if I love them," Luna sounds uncharacteristically frustrated. "But I... I find myself missing him dearly."

Him. That was at least one part of the mystery of Luna Lovegood solved... unless she was bisexual. Or pansexual. So that didn't actually solve anything.

Damn.

"How do you know if you're in love?" She asks.

"Uh... well, I think it sort of depends on the person. With Edward, I sort of- got nervous around him, I guess? Like, a good nervous. And I started noticing stuff about him- like, little details, stuff I might not normally notice, and then it just came to the point where I just sort of realized that I liked him- really, really liked him."

"Oh," she looks thoughtfully at the television screen. The two actors I pointed out earlier are kissing, wrapped around each other, and a moment later the credits start to play. "You were right." She says and smiles serenely. "I'm glad."

I'm not sure anymore that I am.

A/N: Slightly darker chapter, I know, but murder- even the murder of 'bad guys'- doesn't exactly come easy! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!