Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Broken	By : ThePhantomPixie Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 5549 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Twilight, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from this fanfiction

Chapter List
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(Hermione's Point of View)

Upon returning myself back at the house I had found myself living in, I relished in the feel of the the rain that had from seemingly no-where sprung out of the sky and battered down onto the ground. It reminded me of home. Of Hogwarts. Of years sitting in the common room of Gryffindor Tower listening to the rain fall around the castle while attempting to get Harry and Ron to do their Transfiguration homework, or listening to them yet again fight over a pointless game of Wizard's Chess. Listening to each tiny raindrop as it ran down the old stone walls in torrents, watched as the lake became a dancing mess on the surface. Knowing that beneath it the creatures saw no difference in their lives. It was not often that my thoughts travelled to those who dwell below the surface of the black lake. My few encounters with them had all proven themselves to be beasts beyond my own nature, ones whose existence did not entail the politeness that both wizarding and muggle societies found themselves creating. One could not imagine the giant Squid of the lake popping out to shake hands when dealing with the many thousands of rowdy students that flowed through the castle year after year. They lived freely, more in touch with their basic needs than humans.

I say humans, it is the one word that can quite successfully encompass those of the world I left behind without challenging their race. Vampire, werewolves, centaurs, purebloods, half-bloods, muggleborns ... we were all humans.

At least, most of them were.

Few individuals in my eyes deserved the title of 'monster' in the world. Wizarding or otherwise, however there were those that still haunted me in my dreams. When my subconscious ruled over my thoughts and all rational thinking fled my overworked brain. When my guard was down. More often than not I was subjected to nightmares so terrifying. Of nights on the run. Of bone white masks, black robes, horrifying green lights and a face so frightening that each time the feral glint in his eyes caught the moonlight it made me shoot up in my bed and rush to the bathroom. Turning on the water and putting my hands either side of the sink.

I did nothing with the water. Nor was I really awake. Yet the comfort of doing something away from the bedroom; of having a routine, eased me slightly. It did not halt the terrified screams. Nor the sobbing that came afterwards as I sank to the ground. Listening to the flowing water that seemed to always sooth my mind. Water was a comfort for me. For so long I has listened to it in the rain from the comforts of a Scottish Castle that, to muggles, was simply a ruin where upon coming too close made them remember something they desperately needed to do.

So the rain that was seeping through my jeans and down the back of my neck was a welcome change to the terribly warm sunshine that for the biggest part of the day had dominated my sight. I preferred the rain. Sunshine made things more difficult to see. I could only find bright lights shooting from odd places when it was a bright day. When it rained the dreary weather was a comfort that gave me access to all surroundings. I could take in the sights, assess my position and retain any and all spells that my overly intelligent mind had absorbed over the years. War had not been kind to me.

More than once I found myself standing in front of a full length mirror, taking off the glamours on my body and staring with cold eyes at the scars that devoured my once flawless skin. Many of them a deep purple from being curses, others the result of badly placed severing charms or a sickening twist where muggle knives were used against me in interrogation torture. A fitting punishment for being born a child of mud! Over the years I had learned not to let the term mudblood affect me. It was only a word now. A reminder of a time long gone and enemies long vanquished.

Oh how i wished that were so.

The one that caused me distress however was the thick line of almost black skin that ran from my right shoulder, down between the valley of my breasts to rest below the left. A constant reminder of the night in the Department of Mysteries. On my right hip lay another. A curse from Fenrir Greyback. A werewolf more commonly known for his murderous traits than his magic. In all honesty it had confused me to see the feral man with a wand in hand. However short lived my reactions were. At that point I found myself on the wrong end of Bellatrix' cruciatus curse, rather than being able to focus my mind on much else.

The promise of a new life had been greatly over sold. Each time the I got to the house I claimed as my own and sat down in front of the fireplace in the room which I had decorated in the exact image of the Gryffindor Common Room I was reminded of who I was. Of what I was. Of what I had done over the years. The people I had met, and destroyed. Those who, around me had so willingly given their lives for the cause of the greater good that even now posed the threat. The war was over, but the battles remained. The fight to bring justice to those who for no reason other than their pureblood doctrine had wanted to kill me off at the age of eleven. I had never had much of childhood at Hogwarts. I was from such a young age picked to be at the side of someone whose reluctance had been his biggest strength in the end. Even if it meant giving up all the family he had gained over the years.

Sure, The Weasleys took him in as their own and his relationship with Ginny was good. But I could always tell there was still a part of him missing. The moment Sirius Black fell through the veil I saw in his eyes how he lost his parents all over again. It was too much. He was losing everything and everyone for the sake of a prophecy that for the life of me, I couldn't even remember now.

'no! not now. be calm Hermione. Nobody here knows you. Here you can be free.' I adamantly told myself. Swinging my leg off the bike and turning off the motor. Leaving it locked with a quick "Impervius" and a twist of my hand - wandless magic was a god send in a muggle environment- over it to protect the fragile mechanics from the rain. With a heavy sigh I slid the helmet from my head. Letting my hair get wet from the rain and taking a deep breath. Again, the same niggling at the back of my mind reminded me that my magic was always on guard. Yet there was something different. There was no creature to be seen around, it could possibly be a magical creature. Something as harmless as a Jobberknoll sitting in the trees. No need for me to fly off the broomstick so to speak. However, as a precaution. once inside the safety of my house I warded the building against any sort of magical creature other than myself and muggles. It would not be a good idea to randomly disappear a building. Checking the clock I sighed. Just enough time for a small dinner before divesting into the many books. Tomorrow hopefully would go smoother.

(Jasper's Point of View)

This was torture.

Pure, torture. The burning in my throat felt like sharp pins where scratching down my windpipe; making it hard to breath let alone think. Thankful for a vampires ability to go on without breathing for a while I breathed out and held for an uncomfortable about of time. I would not fall off the wagon again, but for some reason I was wondering why Alice had not returned my phone call. Asking her to tell me what was happening. There had been nothing this strong even when I worked with Maria in the vampire wars of the south. Charlotte and Peter never got cravings this bad. It was torture. Yet somewhere deep down there was a strange longing that I could identify as not belonging with the burn of wanting to feed from the unsuspecting human. It was something of an annoyance as my coal black eyes took in the image from a tree top across the street. There. Sat in front of a fire with books strewn around her was a brown haired girl that from what i could tell did not look all that different from any other around school. she was pretty … very pretty in fact, but the burning once again prevented me from seeing anything truly spectacular about a human other than the gentle thrumming of their veins against their skin. Oh how i wanted to simply tear out her th-'NO! not again! not this time! Jasper Whitlock Hale Cullen! Get a grip of yourself!'

I could so easily have killed the poor human at the bookshop. Yet what perplexed me about the situation was my inability to get anywhere physically near her. Never mind attack her.

It was like there was an invisible wall that even with my heightened sight I could not detect. I could however taste something in the a vampire I was used to the sensation of being able to taste the air around me, but this thing ... It wasn't present, like it would be from a person, nor was it the area. It was not grounded enough. It was like there was a space between air and the solid area. It tasted fruity? purple? It was such an odd sensation that momentarily my entire though pattern was distracted from the heavenly scent of the poor humans blood. However momentarily it was. Soon enough I had thrown myself away from the building and into the surrounding woodlands, growling angrily and moved with such a ferocity that in my haste I took out two full grown black bears and an elk. Enough to sate the gnawing hunger I had prolonged thanks to the growing threat of something in the area resembling somewhat, a giant wolf. Of course Carlisle and the others remained certain it was a group of tribal boys close to town, but it did not make me any more comfortable knowing that there were wild animals masquerading as humans in the next town. Even if it was the local reservation.

I usually starved myself as a means of recovering from over seventy years of surviving on human blood. the longer i starved myself, then feasted on animal blood, the easier the transition would be for me to get the control the rest of the family had.

The rain pelting overhead had, until the point where I had taken down the three animals, remained unnoticed. It was only when the mixture of blood and rain running down my face made a small puddle forming at my feet turned a strange shade of pink that I knew I had to be returning home. I would tell no-one, keep Eddy out of my head hopefully for at least one night. That would be what i needed. Some time to think for myself without his probing interference. If i could manage that, then perhaps it would be time for a little chat with my 'father'.
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