CHAPTER TWELVE:

Hermione's POV:

I probably should have expected Harry's visit, I think, ruefully, as I help Bella set up the dinner table. Charlie is shooting Harry suspicious looks and Harry is smiling at him, not at all affected. After facing off the most evil wizard of all time, I guess fathers don't faze Harry, like they do most teenage boys.

The introduction between Charlie and Harry went well enough... I suppose. I told him that Harry was my best friend, and I was wondering if he could stay with us for a few weeks. I then reassured him that we were not dating, never had dated, and that Harry was engaged. My birth father then told Harry he could sleep on the couch, the 'not in Hermione's room' fully implied. Harry took it in his stride, all 'yes sirs' and 'of course sirs'.

And now he was setting out the magnificent delicacy he'd cooked us up- a triple cheese lasagna, with chocolate fondants for dessert. "It looks divine!" Bella enthused, having long-since recovered from the shock of seeing someone vanish into thin air.

Harry had proposed to Ginny less then a month after Voldemort's death. Some might argue that they were too young, but the War aged us all, and it's a well-known fact in the Magical World that witches and wizards tend to marry young- some purebloods are promised to each other before they can even crawl!

I'm eighteen years old, and most of my classmates are either in a serious relationship, engaged, or married. Neville and Luna, Cho Chang and Cormac McLaggen, Parvati and Anthony Goldstein are all married, for instance, some of them during war-time, some in the months that had followed it. All my friends except George and Ron are either in a serious relationship or engaged.

I sit down next to Harry at the table, while Bella sits across from him, next to Charlie. "So, Harry," Charlie begins, in a deceptively friendly voice, "how long have you known this fiancé of yours?"

"Eight years, sir. We were close friends for six years, before we started dating two years ago and we've never looked back." That was close to the truth and I smiled, ducking my head down so Charlie couldn't see.

"And what does your fiancé think of you being down here, anyway?" Charlie asks Harry, his tone almost a challenge.

"She's actually overseas at the moment, in Scotland." Harry explains, "she goes to the same school as Hermione and I did, and she's got a few months left before graduation. We catch up with each other every weekend, but she boards there during the week."

"And what's this lass's name?" Charlie continued his interrogation.

"Ginevra Weasley, though the only one who can get away with calling her that is her mum, Molly." Harry says, with a small grin, "everyone else calls her Ginny."

"Weasley, huh? Isn't that the name of your other friend?" Charlie asks me, and I look back up at him and smile.

"Yes, Ginny is Ron's younger sister. She was in the year below us." Charlie's jaw twitches as a thought strikes him.

"And exactly how old is this Ginny?" he asks, pinning Harry with a fierce look.

"Eighteen, sir, she's only ten months younger then Ron." Harry says, quickly. Now that is a lie- Ginny's seventeenth is coming up, and in the Wizarding World that's when she comes of age- Ron is thirteen months older then her. Charlie, however, looks appeased, thinking Ginny wasn't 'underage'.

"And you two been living together, when she's not in school?" he asks.

"Yes sir." Harry nods. "We've got a small house together in Devon." He elaborates. Charlie whistles through his teeth.

"House, huh?"

"Er, yeah, my parents passed away when I was very young," Harry mumbles, embarrassed about his wealth, like he always is, "they left me some money." Charlie looks a touch more sympathetic towards Harry now, which usually drives Harry mad, but I think he's slightly relieved the interrogation has stopped. Instead, he turns to face Bella and fixes her with a stern look.

"Don't be getting any ideas about marrying young, missy," he warns her. Bella instantly blushes red as a tomato.

"Ch-dad!" she hisses, mortified. Charlie gives her another stern look.

I decide now's as good a time as any to bring up the weekend plans, and I shoot Charlie a winning smile.

"So I'm thinking about flying over to England on Friday night, and bringing Bella with me so she can meet all my close friends," I tell him, "it's a seven hour flight, which gives us plenty of time to see everyone, before returning Sunday evening. I thought that now would be a better time to do it, when we're not frantically studying for finals."

Charlie narrows his eyes, slightly. "Will Cullen be going with you?" he demands, turning his body so he's facing Bella. Bella sighs.

"No dad, Edward will not be coming with us." She says, rolling her eyes. Charlie looks pleased.

"Then that's fine. Do you need money for the tickets?"

"It's my treat." I tell him, and he purses his lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry," I explain, "I inherited a bit of money last year, more then enough for a trip there and back for Bella and I." This isn't exactly true, but money is unnecessary for this trip, as a simple apparation, Floo or Portkey will get us there in less then a minute, for no cost at all.

The rest of the dinner passes with light conversation, Charlie happily appeased.

-

Later that night, Harry casts a glamour on the sofa, so that to Charlie, Bella and even Edward's eyes it looks (and smells and sounds) like Harry's sleeping there, while he gets in the bed, beside me. I snuggle into his warmth, and let out a small sigh, feeling his arms around me. There's nothing sexual in the way he's cradling me, it's purely protective, loving. After Ron left, we'd spent months sleeping together like this, needing the proximity and comfort.

Our closeness had never crossed to any sexual intimacy, Harry being one of the only people who knew I was a lesbian while also being deeply in love himself with Ginny, but the closeness had helped us both sleep, and when one of us woke up with a nightmare, the other one would be right there.

"How have you been sleeping?" He asks, after casting a few non-verbal silencing charms. With a vampire in the house, you can never be too careful.

"Not wonderfully." I admit. Harry's fingers gently run along my left forearm.

"Nightmares about her?" he asks, and I nod, blinking away tears. There's no need to specify who 'her' is.

"'Course." I sigh.

"Feel like a fly?" he asks, and I twist around to face him, smiling.

"Oh, Harry, and here was me thinking you'd never ask." I tease, softly.

We get out of my bed, and I ease open my window, before clambering as elegantly as possible out onto the ledge and launching myself in the air, shifting into my eagle form. I spread my wings and flap once, twice, before gliding over to the roof, above my window, and perching, waiting for Harry. Harry copies my movements, jumping out of the window and shifting mid-air.

My Animagus form is elegant, but it has nothing on the beauty that is Harry's. Where my best friend was, there was now a phoenix, with crimson feathers like live flames and a golden tail as long as a peacock's. Harry's claws and beak were a gleaming gold and his eyes were green as the Killing Curse.

I flexed my wings, flapped once, twice, then launched myself back into the air, and Harry glides beside me, his scarlet body feathers glowing faintly in darkness.

A phoenix form makes sense for the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry has already 'died' once, and almost died several more times, but he always came back, he always lived. Like a phoenix, who bursts into flames and is reborn from the ashes. Harry first transformed a month after the Battle of Hogwarts. He found a much-needed peace in the meditation required to become an Animagus, and unlike most witches and wizards who required years of practice, transforming just came naturally to him.

Together we soar above Forks, above the ocean, the forest, the town, and the reservation. As we glided through the skies, Harry opened his beak and sang. Like all phoenix song, it was soul-touching, having similar effects to Madam Pomfrey's Warming Potions, instilling courage and calm in all those who heard it.

If eagles could cry, there would have been tears dripping down my beak from the raw beauty of each note.

That night, after we returned to my bed, for the first time in a long time I slept without dreaming.

-

Arriving for my second day of school, I bit back a curse as I stepped out of the Chevy and all eyes snapped in my direction. Because there was no Alice there to scare them off, I was instantly waylaid by three people in particular, who immediately introduced themselves as Mike Newton, Lauren Malloy and Jessica Stanley.

Mike Newton was a baby-faced blonde guy of average attractiveness, Jessica 'Jess' was a short, curly haired brunette with a spattering of cute freckles and a curvy figure, while Lauren was the bleached blonde who'd questioned me in class yesterday.

"So, Hermione, enjoying Forks?" Mike asked, stepping way too close then I was comfortable with. I could almost feel my hackles raising, and my fingers twitched towards the pocket that held my wand. Seeming to sense my agitation, Bella's hand shot out and closed around my wand-hand, and she started dragging me away from the three.

"Sorry, I need to show Hermione where the library is before class starts, you'll have to talk to her later." Bella says hurriedly, and I follow her, partially grateful for her intervention, and kind of annoyed that I couldn't curse the spit out of the irritating boy.

And then Mike basically jogs to catch up to us, and bumps shoulders with me in what I think is supposed to be friendly? Or maybe flirty? I tense up, my fingers tightening around Bella's hand. I see her wince out of the corner of my eye, but I'm mainly focused on the boy beside me. "How about I accompany you ladies?" He says, in a voice that drips with grease. I want to shudder.

Maybe it's because I'm gay that I find his advances so repellant and downright repulsive, maybe it's because I just find the boy slimy, but all I know is that I'm definitely running out of patience, and that my gag reflex isn't going to be able to hold up for much longer.

I open my mouth to tell Mike exactly what I think of him accompanying us ladies when suddenly Alice is there, in between Mike and I, her arm curled around my waist, her eyes narrowed on the unfortunate human who has incurred her wrath.

"Why don't you go flirt with someone who's actually interested, Newton." Alice just about growls, her eyes dark as coal. Mike gulps and takes a step back, looking like he's about to wet his pants. Alice smiles, a predatory smile that shows all her glistening white teeth. "Stay away from Hermione." She tells him, her chiming voice managing to sound as threatening as a man with an axe and a ski mask. Mike hurriedly nods.

"Yeah, I... I will!" He promises, face white as a sheet, his instincts screaming at him what his brain can't- that Alice is dangerous. He quickly retreats, and I turn a grateful smile to Alice. I don't even notice that Bella has let go of me and is wrapped around her vampire.

"Well aren't you my pixie in shining armor." I say to her, playfully, even as I wonder if she's going to remove her arm from where it's currently resting around me, its delicious coolness seeping through the thin material of my peach-colored sweater, her palm, her slim fingers, almost caressing my hip where it rests, casually. I feel perverted, almost, when I find myself hoping that she doesn't.

Alice looks breathtaking, her hair straightened today, and framing her face like a curtain of silk. Her make-up is carefully applied to her marble skin and she's wearing a tiny skirt that hugs her buttocks and calves delectably, a pair of black tinted stockings, shiny black Mary Jane's and a light colored blouse that is stretched tightly over her breasts and hips, and an unbuttoned cardigan.

I find myself having to fight back the urge to stare and a familiar tingling heat flares in my lower abdomen. Alice looks up at me from under her thick lashes, smiling sweetly. "Well, will you allow this knight to accompany her Ladyship to class?" she asks, perfectly mimicking a British accent, that's just as good as, if not better, then my own.

"I would be delighted to, my brave Knight." I tell her, and she laughs.

"How was your night?" She asks, as we walk towards first our lockers, then to our first class- Art with Miss Galbraith, an enthusiastic, flighty, extremely cheerful young woman with flaxen curls and soft sky-colored eyes. She's wearing a long, hippy skirt, and a tie-dyed shirt.

Art wouldn't usually be my thing, but I wanted to try something different, and apparently art therapy is also quite good for treating the emotions that come from trauma...

Since I've moved from England, things have started to look up slightly. It still feels very touch and go, and the almost-episode with Mike before shows just how much I'm struggling keeping both my emotions and my anxiety in check, but for the first time since the War finished, I've started feeling... lighter.

Alice and I find seats near the back of the class, and Alice pulls out her last sketch to continue working on, a portrait of her family that looks like it was drawn by a professional. "Why don't you just draw me something so I know where you're at?" Ms. Galbraith suggests to me, and I nodded.

"You can use my art supplies." Alice smiles, and I give her a grateful smile.

Staring at the blank canvas, I let my mind run free. I ran my fingertips over the art supplies, finally deciding on a stick of charcoal. I let my hand sweep over the page, just letting my hand flow across the white sheet. I end up sketching Harry's Animagus form, still so fresh in my mind after last night's flight.

By the end of the class, two hours later, a phoenix is soaring out of the flames, its wings spread, beak open, head tossed back. The only color in the whole portrait is the phoenix's vivid green eyes, the rest is black charcoal against the crisp white paper.

"That's gorgeous." Alice comments, softly. I smile at her, ruefully, and motion towards her perfect portrait. So far she's captured the essence of her 'father', 'mother', Rosalie and Emmett on the canvas, their golden eyes so piercing, staring back at me, Carlisle in his doctor's coat, Esme in an apron, Rosalie dressed in only the highest fashion and Emmett with his arm wrapped around his mate's shoulders.

"Decades of practice." She dismisses her work, eyes glued to mine.

It's flattering, actually, her fascination. Miss Galbraith seems pleased with it, too, and I head out of the classroom feeling both accomplished and reminiscent.

Our next class is English with Mr. Mason, one of the only classes I share with Bella and her vampire.

Bella sits on my one side, and Alice on the other. "Have you told Alice about Harry yet?" She asks and Alice stiffens.

"Harry?" she asks, through clenched teeth. I give her a confused look.

"Yeah, Hermione's BFF from boarding school." Bella says, giving me sly eyes, "he's really cute!"

"I suppose, but I find that, for myself, he lacks a few vital features." I tell her, pointedly.

"Such as?"

"Well, to be crass, his 'pair' are a little too low, for one." I say, dryly, "and I prefer cats to snakes." Alice starts smiling, easily picking up my message, but Bella seems confused.

"Huh?" She asks. I sigh, not sure why she's so persistent.

"Breasts, Bella. Breasts and a..." I jerk my chin in a downward motion, and she blushes slightly.

"Oh!" she says.

"So why is Harry visiting?" Alice asked, seeming much calmer now. A thought strikes me as my mind quickly assesses her behavior. Wait... had Alice been jealous?

Don't be ridiculous, Hermione! I scolded myself, with an inner eye-roll. Now I felt pathetic. Was I that starved for romance that I was looking for non-existent romantic signals from a vampire?

"Harry's here to help me deal with... the last few years." I said, quietly, looking at my lap. "He lost his parents when he was younger. They were murdered in front of him."

"Poor thing." Alice says, and Edward nods softly in agreement, his face lightly pained.

"Is he coming to England with us?" Bella asked.

"You're going to England?" This is Edward, his full attention suddenly on Bella.

"Yeah, over the weekend with Hermione." She says, and I can see the excitement on her face. Edward's eyes narrow infinitesimally.

"So what time are we leaving?" He asked. Bella sighs.

"We aren't leaving, Edward." She tells him, "This weekend is for me and Hermione."

"Bella, that's ridiculous!" Edward exclaims, "Do you know how dangerous it could be? And I'll be nowhere near you if you need me!"

"I survived seventeen years without you, Edward, I think I'll survive a weekend with my sister." Bella points out.

"No Bella, absolutely not! That is out of the question." Edward's eyes are narrowed. Bella literally grits her teeth together.

"You don't get to tell me I can't do this." She says, jaw tight.

"I'm only trying to do what's best for you!" Edward argues.

"Miss Swan! Mister Cullen! Is there anything you want to share with the class?" Mr. Mason asks, acidly.

"No sir." Bella says, looking back down at her book.

"I apologize for the disturbance." Edward says, voice polite.

"Edward?" I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. Bella certainly won't be able to hear it, only the two vampires in the room will. I instill ice into my voice, channeling the same emotions I did when using an Unforgiveable Curse.

It could be my imagination, but I could swear I saw green flashing lights before my eyelids, and Edward and Alice both turned to statues, their lack of movement unnatural enough to get my attention.

"Apologize to her, promise her you'll never pull any crap like that again, and tell her that a weekend away is fine." I breathe, letting my magic surge around my body. "I have friends that don't like vampires. Friends that won't have any problem dealing with one, should I give the word."

Edward doesn't make a sound, but his chin dips, slightly.

"Good." I hum, before turning back to my book. We all work in silence until the bell rings. Bella is one of the first out of the classroom, and Edward is smart enough to let her go. I give the silent Alice a small smile.

"I'm going to go find Bella. I'll find my own way to the next class." I tell her. She gives me a small smile back, her gold eyes troubled.

"I- I'll see you later?" she asks, questioningly.

"Of course." I answer, before exiting the classroom.