CHAPTER TWENTY:

"-and he'd just stand there and watch as Pug-face called her Loony and me a Mudblood and-" I rant to Edward as he massages my temples. I've been bitching about Malfoy for the last hour, and he's been very patient, making all the right sounds in all the right places, being appropriately sympathetic. "And now he's in my house!" I repeat a statement I've made about twenty or so times now. "He's in my damn house!"

Because I'm genuinely horrified- Draco Malfoy is in my house! A muggle house! In a muggle town! The closest magical blood is Mei-Xing, and she's a squib who relocated to Forks to move away from her magical relatives!

Before I can keep ranting, Edward quickly cuts in. "How are you feeling?" He asks, in a not so subtle (and somewhat desperate) way of trying to change the topic. He looks like he's fighting the urge to either get Alice, Esme or Rosalie and then run, or to stroke my hair and say 'there, there'.

Edward is a god among men, but even he can get worn down by large amounts of... well, it's not quite 'girl talk', as calling it that is stereotyping, but prolonged 'bitching' sessions are more commonly associated with females then males. It took patient explaining at the start of the hour that no, I didn't want him to try and give me a solution to my problem (Malfoy), I wanted him to validate how I was feeling by telling me how absolutely right I was, and how Luna deserved so much better because Malfoy was an absolute-

"Bella?" Edward looks anxiously at me, "are you okay?" he repeats.

"I'm angry." I mutter, petulantly, and when Edward winces slightly at the apparent return to ranting I sigh and decide to take pity on him and consider his question. If I was being blunt, overall I felt like shit. Specifically my wrist was fucked, my left side was especially fucked and my head felt like it'd been triple-fucked sideways. Plus practically my entire body felt like a bruise, and all my muscles were protesting movement.

"I've got a headache." I answer Edward's query, "And achy in general, really."

"Do you need any more advil?" Edward asks, now concerned, his hands gently skimming down my arms, then sides, as if searching for the pain. "Carlisle could also prescribe you something stronger, if you need it. Where are you hurting most?"

"My whole body hurts the most," I tell him, before reacting as his hand brushed against the scar running down my left side. The spike of stabbing pain had me stiffening and clenching my jaw, hissing through my teeth as I blinked back the threatening tears. Edward looked genuinely worried now, his icy hands gently peeling up my shirt so we could both look at my side.

I wasn't sure, but I was pretty confident that the scar looked redder then before- it certainly hurt more.

"I'll get Carlisle to write a script," Edward murmurs. I tug at the corner of my shirt he's holding up.

"If you wanted me to take my top off, you could have just asked," I tease him half-heartedly, and he looks amused.

"Oh?" Deciding to take that as a challenge, I force my sore arms to cooperate, pulling my shirt off, up over my head. A moment later, I realize that with the purple and blue splotches mixed with my old faint red scars and now the long, inflamed one along my side, I'd actually look better with my shirt on. Putting it back on, though, would be embarrassing, so I went with something that still made my cheeks flush, but made me feel better about myself.

I took off my bra.

"Bella," Edward's eyes have gone dark, his pupil dilating, and he looks... hungry. Not in the 'I want to eat you' way, but in the... actually, still in the 'I want to eat you way', just a different sort of eating. "You're injured," he says, pulling his gaze away from my breasts with what looked like a great deal of effort- which was definitely a nice boost to my self-esteem.

"I won't be getting any better until Qiang gets back," I point out, "and if she doesn't come back to America any time soon, then it'll be weeks before I'm back to mostly normal." Probably more for my side- a lot more, I think, but I don't mention that out loud. "Besides," I tell him, "I've heard that, well," my confidence wavers slightly as my cheeks going hot, "that a- a you know," I blush even harder, unable to make myself say 'orgasm', "is a good headache cure."

"Bella," Edward still looks concerned and I slump my shoulders. It was going to be no sexy times, apparently.

"Should I be putting my shirt back on?" I ask, glumly, disappointed at not getting to explore those new sensations any further. And then Edward kisses me until my head's spinning from something other then my headache. "I'll take that as you want the shirt to stay off," I gasp, breathless, as he trails kisses down my neck while I try to catch my breath. I feel his lips, now just below my collarbone, curve into a smile as he takes a moment to laugh against the damp skin of my chest, his cool breath causing goose-bumps to rise on my over-heated skin, before continuing to kiss his way down my body.

He takes his time, makes me feel like I'm floating, like I might come unmoored at any moment, until I finally do, cresting on wave after wave of shimmering pleasure.

-

I'm feeling pleasantly jelly-like, sitting on the couch with Edward, a book open on my lap, when Jacob arrives.

"Bella," he sighs in relief, "thank god you're alright- you and Luna scared the crap out of everyone at the bonfire! Even Paul keeps asking if I've heard from you!"

"Really? Paul?" I ask, surprised. Jacob sits down next to me, making the couch springs complain and Edward stiffen uncomfortably at my other side. He and Jacob trade hostile glares, but there's not as much heat in it as I remember last time I saw them in the same room- with all the joint training sessions, it seems the Pack and the Cullens seem to be getting along much better... well, Edward and Jacob are at least.

"Well, Paul's basically in my head whenever I shift, so he can hear my thoughts and feel my emotions- he knows how much you mean to me, and it, you know, impacts him. Like how he's got a five-year-old step-sister that I've met once and traded about six words with but I still love because he absolutely adores her." Jacob explains, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, being very careful not to touch Edward, and giving me a gentle squeeze.

"Secondhand impressions... that's actually quite interesting." Edward says thoughtfully, "I've never thought about it like that." Jacob's mouth makes a sort of grimace before he speaks again, keeping a civil tone.

"Well, that and the fact she and Luna both reeked of fear before they disappeared from the bonfire." He says, "Any guy's going to react to a young woman in such clear distress."

"Young woman? I'm older then you," I complain, elbowing him just under his ribs. He grins.

"But I'm taller."

"That has nothing to do with being the older one!" I point out.

"Which one of us do you think they'd card if we go into a bar?" he challenges.

"Well which one of us is about to graduate from high school, and which one of us is still a sophomore?" I counter.

"You'll have to actually pass your finals first," he snickers, and I cringe.

"Gee, thanks for reminding me." I mutter. "Oh Merlin, I'm going to flunk Biology and then they'll have to kick me out of Ravenclaw."

"Don't worry, Bella," Edward says, amused, "you do have the world's best Biology tutor, remember?" I can't help my smile at the memory of how indignant I'd been when I'd first been assigned Edward as my tutor, back when I'd just started at Forks High.

Of course, I was so glad now that Mr. Banner had made him my tutor- not only had it forced me to actually talk to him, but he actually was a fantastic tutor, and I'd started getting decent marks in my Biology tests.

-

Three hours later, I'd completely changed my mind. Mr. Banner was an arse and Edward was the worst tutor in the world. My mind felt like it was going to explode and I wanted nothing more then to jump out the window to escape- it was tutoring from Hell, with Edward as Satan, judge, jury, and executioner.

"I need a break," I pleaded with him, desperately, and Edward chuckled.

"You realize finals start in two days?" he said, amused, and I glower at him for the unnecessary reminder.

"Biology's the last exam, I'll have plenty of time to revise for it!"

"I thought you were a Ravenclaw," Edward points out and I glower at him even harder.

"That doesn't mean I enjoy studying a god-awful subject for hours on end!" I say, and my voice is embarrassingly shrill, which makes Edward laugh harder before suddenly pausing, head tilted. "What is it?" I ask with a pang of anxiety.

"Nothing good," Edward says, and his face is grim. "Katie and Angela have just driven up."

"But that's good, though, right?" I ask, uneasy, and he sighs.

"Yes, but their news isn't." He said, and stands up. I follow him to the front door, chewing on my lip. When he opens it, I'm shocked to see how pale Katie looks.

"Katie? What is it?" I demand, panicking a little.

"Isobel got into contact with me," Katie whispers, her voice scratchy like she's been crying for hours. "There were Aurors who wanted to speak with me. They- they found my parents." I closed my eyes, heart sinking in my chest.

"I'm so sorry," I tell her, and she makes a thick, choked off sound.

"There's going to be a funeral," Angela says, tiredly, and I can see how exhausted she looks. "Jiù jiu (uncle) and jiù mā (aunt) are having a ceremony for S-Sue on Sunday."

"Are you having a funeral service?" I ask Katie who shakes her head.

"Not much point," she mutters, "there's just me and Daniel."

"You and Mr. Banner wouldn't be alone, Katie," I tell her, gently. "I'd be there, and so would Angela. So would Luna and Edward and Alice." Katie sniffs, wiping the back of her sleeve over her face, mopping up the tears.

"Thanks Bella," her voice is so quiet it's practically a whisper, "but I don't think I can put them in the ground. The Ministry is offering to cremate their bodies and send me the ashes- it's what they're doing for lots of people, apparently. I think... I think I'll scatter their ashes over the ocean. Mum loved the sea- whenever we went on holiday, she insisted it always be somewhere with a beach. And dad... dad would follow her anywhere."

"Okay," I say, reaching out to gently hold one of her hands with both of mine, giving a soft squeeze. "But we'll be there, all of us, and maybe you could... tell us about them." Katie lets out a shuddering breath, her entire body seeming to deflate, but her eyes meet mine, and suddenly they don't look so agonized.

"I think... I think I might like that." She says, and I no longer resist the urge to step forwards and pull her into a gentle hug. Angela carefully wraps her arms around us both, and I ignore the pain of her arm brushing up against my side, instead relaxing into the embrace we're sharing.

That evening we stood over a cliff where I'd seen teenagers from La Push jumping from the top into the water. It looked utterly terrifying, but also sort of fun, and I thought I might like to try it some day, but there was no joy and playfulness going around our small group.

Edward and Alice were there, and so were Angela, Mr. Banner and Luna. None of us were wearing full black, but we each had some on us, from Alice's hair bow to Mr. Banner's handkerchief, tucked into his breast pocket to Angela's earrings of pretty black stones set in silver. Well, all of us wore something black except Luna, who insisted that one should wear white to a funeral and had a wreath of white flowers resting on her head.

The sun was going down and there were reds, oranges and pinks in the sky, and the old wives-tale saying it would be sunny the next day briefly popped into my head before I focused on Katie, who was holding an urn, her hands trembling violently.

Edward wrapped an arm around me, letting me lean into him for support, even as my fingers were linked with a solemn Luna's.

"Goodbye mama, goodbye daddy," Katie whispered, and we all politely pretended we hadn't heard her heartbroken goodbye, "I love you both, I-I'll always miss you, so, so much." With that, she opened the urn with badly shaking fingers and poured the ashes over the edge of the cliff where the wind caught them, cradled them in its embrace as they turned invisible to my human eyes, carried by the soft breeze through the air, out over the ocean.

-

Sue's funeral the following day was... it was one of the most heart-wrenching days of my life.

Innocence is the first casualty of war. The second is your ability to function like the average human being, as you find yourself jumping at shadows that move too quickly, at people who get too close and noises that are just too damn loud.

And going to Sue's funeral had an issue coming up that I hadn't fully considered, but most likely should have.

Renée had always called me a 'precocious' child, prone to 'fits of fancies'. A better way of phrasing this would be 'undiagnosed anxiety disorder', but Renée had always preferred to bury her head in the sand.

That's why I went to Hogwarts in the first place, after all. Salem Witches Academy was based in America and was a day school- basically a normal high school experience, except for the part where the students were taught subjects from charms and potion brewing and transfiguration, to how to care for an injured unicorn and power runes we'd drawn with ink and blood and raw magic. Renée has never actually said out loud that she hates the fact I'm a witch, but some things? Some things just don't need to be said to be heard loud and clear. And instead of having to see me everyday, Renée had jumped at the opportunity to send me off to a boarding school almost four thousand miles away so she'd only have to deal with her witch daughter over the holidays.

I don't hold it against her, not really. At first it was horribly depressing, but I made friends for the first time in my life and I was learning so many interesting new things everyday. Hogwarts also helped with my undiagnosed anxiety disorder as I started build up my confidence. Panic attacks were rarer now, only striking in times of great stress, I no longer had to shoulder the responsibility for the household and my own mother who was too childish and immature to do so herself, and I grew... not braver, per se, it was more like I finally found that I fitted properly inside my own body.

The frequency of my panic attacks had been increasing since the battle at the Department of Mysteries, but some part of me had just assumed that once the stress of the Death Eaters and Voldemort was gone, everything would go back to how it was before.

Turned out I was wrong. As soon as the Portkey delivered me to where the funeral was being held in Wū shù cūn (Village of Sorcery), the village where Sue grew up, my lungs stopped working properly, the sudden panic I was feeling at people being everywhere (so many people, too many people, too loud, too many, too many, too many, no, no, NO!) leaving me practically paralyzed. A strangled scream tried to escape and I bit down on my lip to muffle the sound.

It's hard to explain a panic attack in words, and not all of them even feel the same. This one feels like I might throw up; there's a twisting anxiety rolling through my body like a massive snake made from ice, chilling my nerves as it travels. My lungs are bound by bands of steel, leaving me unable to breathe in any air, my face is numb and everything feels distant and fuzzy.

Two sets of gentle hands guide me away from where the crowd was thickest, over to a cluster of trees, tall and sweeping and standing alone, looking over the cemetery. Hands rubbed circles on my back and someone counted breaths with me.

When it stops feeling like I'm trapped and suffocating, when my heart stops beating so hard and fast that it feels like it could break my ribs, and I just want to curl up in a ball somewhere dark and empty, I managed to take in who it was that had saved my pride and helped me before I passed out from lack of oxygen in front of a whole crowd of mourners. Luna was gently clasping my shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb, and Isobel was looking at me anxiously, and the way her long white dress-robe billowed in the light wind made her look like some sort of angel. I manage a weak smile.

"I could kiss you both right now."

"If you must," Isobel said with a self-sacrificing sigh and I sort of laugh as I let out a breath and Luna makes an amused sound before kissing my cheek. I can't help a wet sort of laugh.

"I brought a Calming potion for you," Isobel presses a small phial into my hands. "Well, I brought a few, actually. Wasn't sure how many people might need one." I give her a thankful look and twist off the silver cap with the MacDougal House symbol engraved on the surely expensive and pure precious metal. The potion has the consistency of melted rubber, and tastes how I imagine raw eggs do. I can feel the effects, though, instantly. It feels like I've just sunk into a hot bubble bath and all my worries have just floated away. A relaxed sigh escapes me.

"Let's go pay our respects," Isobel says, softly, plucking the now empty phial from me and slipping it into a tiny purse I hadn't noticed until then, and then links her arm with one of mine, as does Luna.

I don't understand much of the service, as its all spoken in Mandarin, but that doesn't stop the aching loss fiercely battling with the artificial calm inside me.

I could see Angela, with Katie by her side, standing with her parents and brothers over with her relatives, all of whom were standing with Sue's parents and siblings in silent support. When the service ended, Isobel, Luna and I made our way over. Before approaching Angela, I bowed to the beautiful woman wrapped in white silks and spicy perfume. Sue's mother, Xiaohui Li, who I'd only met three times before, looked like she hadn't slept since she'd learnt her daughter was a casualty in one of the largest battles ever recorded in Wizarding history.

"I... I'm so sorry." I manage to choke out, and Xiaohui gave me a watery smile, touching my shoulder gently in response- she looked as if she couldn't open her mouth to speak without starting to cry. I wanted to cry too, but I was making an effort to keep myself together until I was safely home.

Going to where Angela stood, her eyes puffy and bloodshot, I pulled my friend into a tight hug. Despite our height difference, she managed to bury her face in my hair and I could feel her entire body shaking in silent sobs.

As we broke apart, I could see the tears streaming down Isobel's face as she looked across at Sue's body, lovingly placed in a beautifully carved coffin with a spray of white roses, the face of our dorm-mate, our friend, as gentle in death as she had been in life. 

-

After the ceremony, Isobel pulls Luna and I aside. "I was going to owl these to you, but I thought it would be better giving them in person, and you can give Katie hers," she says, pulling three thick envelopes from her pocket. The envelopes are gold with a red wax seal stamped with the official Ministry emblem. One envelope is addressed to 'Isabella Marie Swan', one to 'Luna Księżyc Lovegood' and one to 'Katherine Sofia Marshall'.

"What are these?" I ask, nervously.

"Just open it," Isobel urges and I reluctantly peel off the seal and pull from the envelope the thick parchment within.

Miss Isabella Marie Swan,

For services of distinction rendered to Magical Britain you have been awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class.

The details for the ceremony of presentation can be found below. This parchment is a Portkey, should you agree to attend.

Sincerely,

Kingsley Shacklebolt,

Interim Minister of Magic  

Looking to the bottom of the page I flip through the part about arrangements for plus ones, instead finding the date. When I do, my eyes widen even further then they had when I read the letter. "It's tomorrow evening?" I basically squeak.

"I know it's sudden, but it's not going to be the usual ceremony- everyone who fought at-" Isobel's voice wavers, but she continues, firmly, "at H-Hogwarts is been awarded. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are being awarded First Class, and so is Neville Longbottom, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Molly Weasley and I think three others."

"But why is it so soon?" I press, and Isobel shrugs, a gesture that genuinely shocks me. Seeing my shock she snorts.

"I've had enough of social etiquette. I'm tired." And she looks tired. We all do. "They're moving it forwards because of Harry Potter, of course. From what I've heard," Isobel smiles here, and that makes me smile back, because Isobel has always, always had the best sources- she always knows what's going on, "the Ministry wanted to award Harry his tomorrow and throw a huge banquet to celebrate him, but Harry wouldn't accept his without Ron and Hermione's at the same time and demanded that everyone who'd fought at Hogwarts was given recognition which means there's going to be over one hundred and fifty awards handed out. They thought about splitting the First Class and Second Class awards, but realized that would mean two grand events within a small amount of time, so decided it would be much less expensive to get it all done at once."

"But why are they awarding Harry his now?" I ask, puzzled. "Why not wait?"

"Because they want to restore people's faith in the Ministry." Luna says, softly, and Isobel nods while I make an 'ah' sound of realization.

The Ministry of Magic has been the enemy for the last year, and people have been living in fear of them. Having the Minister of Magic award Voldemort's defeater, Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Conquered and Leader of the Light, is giving a firm statement on where they now stand.

"Do I have to do this?" I wonder. The glare Isobel gives me convinces me that yes, I do have to be there.

-

"I wish you could come with me," I tell Edward later, glumly, laying in bed with my head on his lap as he undos the braids Alice had put my hair in for the funeral, his long, slender fingers clever and nimble.

"I wish I could come too," he murmurs, "I never want to leave your side again, for the rest of my existence."

"Well, I would appreciate some space for when I need the bathroom," I tell him, "but other then that, I think that sounds perfect." He laughs softly, fingers gently combing through my hair after having finished taking out the braids.

"You deserve the recognition," he says, suddenly, his hand moving so that his fingers gently brush against my exposed collarbone, where the edge of a dark purple bruise is visible.

"There are people who deserve more recognition then me," I say, thinking of Sue and Lisa Turpin, Morag, Isobel's older sister's, best friend, both of them now buried, their young lives cut brutally short while they fought for our freedom.

"And they will get their recognition too," Edward says, gently, "but they are not the only ones who made sacrifices. Anyone who fought in that battle will never forget it for the rest of their life." I think of the bodies lined in the halls, of the skull-like masks and the raw despair in Professor McGonagall's voice as she screamed Harry's name. I recall the explosions, the Hogwartians and Death Eaters alike spilling over the edge of the tower to their deaths, the way the ground shook and trembled as the giants charged, crushing people below their enormous feet, pulverizing fighters with their heavy clubs. I remember the smell of Katie's burning flesh as Luna cauterized her severed arm, the flesh peeling off the struggling man under me as I rake my nails down his face, Fenrir Greyback in human form biting a chunk out of a weakly stirring Lavender, and the agony of being sliced open, my skin ripped and torn and spread apart.

I will never forget any of that, any of the Battle or shooting those Death Eaters or the pain of the Cruciatus, and I can't help my tears. Edward holds me, presses sweet kisses along my jaw-line, and I hold him tight, ignoring the way my entire body still hurts, just wanting the closeness in this moment where I've realized that I'm always going to be at least a little bit damaged, a little bit broken. No one survives a war entirely sane, after all.

"At least Alice will help you with the preparation," Edward says, like that will cheer me up. It doesn't work and he seems unable to help but laugh as I glare at him. "I'm fully aware of just how dangerous you are, I witnessed you set a skilled two hundred year old hunter vampire on fire, but you still look as threatening as a kitten when you pout at me like that." He says. I narrow my eyes.

"I am not pouting!" He just laughs again, then kisses me before I can retort and I decide making my point just isn't worth it, and that I should take advantage of the fact Luna's sharing a bed with Draco freaking Malfoy and therefore Edward and I have the bedroom to ourselves.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed <3
~C. Carroll