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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(Jasper POV)

As I fled home, my thoughts remained around the taste of purple that had perplexed me more than I would dare say it did. There was nothing logical about it, nor was there anything that gave an indication to me that it was from my world. All I knew was that it was not human. Why could I not figure out what the damned taste was! I, a three century old vampire was unable to figure out something as simple as an instinctual taste in the air.

'Only it isn't in the air! It was more than just the air!' My thoughts snarled at me. Years of living as a beast had taken its toll and often I was left with the residual ferocity that had dominated my life for hundreds of years. The years before I met the Cullen's. Before I met Alice.

She was the reason I had tried to stop my diet of eating humans, of draining them dry and leaving them either dead or near enough to it. My days of stalking the earth a feral monster over and my life as a free man withering away before my very eyes.

Unlike the rest of the Cullen's, I had not yet developed the clear golden hue in my eyes that many in the town believed to be the result of a rare medical disorder, the reason for which we were all adopted by Carlisle and Esme. Being a doctor, Carlisle was the best suited to look after what was said to be the result of a genetic defect that did no damage to the eye, but simply changed the colour to a golden Amber. Mine however; they still had an orange tinge to them. Human blood, the thing I had lived on for centuries, gave us vampires the distinctive red. Animal blood, the 'vegitarian' lifestyle that the Cullen's had adopted, gave them their colour. Obviously, it would take a few more decades before I finally got rid of the human blood still residing in my system. My eyes the clear testament to my failures over the years.

Yet the Cullen's, like a true family stayed by my side during my mistakes. They did not abandon me as I believed they would, nor did they ostracise me for my mistakes. I was forgiven, the even was not forgotten but as a collected we moved on. I was lucky in a way to have them by my side.

On the other hand. I had never known such a gnawing hunger as when I fed on animals. It did nothing to assuage my thirst. I knew how filling and how sweet human blood tasted. It was like nothing I could ever describe. Like an other worldly feeling that filled me until I was full. Truly full.

The Cullen's did not know what it was like to feel truly full. They knew nothing about what it was like to really feed for weeks and months at a time before their body sloshed with the blood of the dead. Their life for mine. Not a fair trade, but it was my existence in the balance. I was not known for my compassion. Despite my abilities.

Soon enough, I had curled my way through the window of the ground floor of the glass walled building. Not something that many people would expect of a vampires home. But we did not die in sunlight; we did not cower from religious artefacts. The myths that vampires of old has imposed upon our kind just made it easier for us to blend in with the people around us. Of course it was far easier to blend in when the sun was not prominent. Not because we would as believed, burst into flames. But a group of students sparkling like thousands of microscopic diamonds had been surgically fused to their skin whenever the sun shone down on them did not exactly scream "normal" to the regular Joe and Jane of society. No, it was easier to stay away from the humans. It was the biggest reason why our home was so far out from the locals. A good 10 miles off the main road from Forks, Washington. Turning right down an almost invisible side road and on for a further four miles through nothing but thick uninviting forest before bursting into view of the bright and beautiful house.

"Evenin'" I drawled, my southern accent one of the few things that remained of my mother tongue. Living, dying and fighting in the south during the days of the American Civil war meant that, like a true Southern Gentleman, my airs and graces ... and my accent ... lay dormant within me. Waiting for something to awaken it once again.

It always showed when I was truly hungry.

"Jasper! My boy, how are you today?" My 'Father' greeted. Carlisle. His platinum blonde hair one of the things that allowed the illusion that he was my biological relative. He always greeted me with such compassion, such gentle caring and forgiveness that it took no effort at all to return the smile that he was beaming at me. Although words failed me when his first 'childe' ... Edward ... stormed into the room and turned at me.

"Do you have any idea how close you were to exposing yourself today?" He fumed, his auburn hair allowed a good amount of stereotypical anger to come through as he pointed his finger accusingly.

"Well, I don't know what you're talkin' about Edward. But you got me, how close did I come today?" I gave a smirk. Knowing it was driving the boy wild that I was not respecting him the way he demanded that I should. But I had no reason to. I was old enough to be the boy's great-great-great-great-great granddaddy. I was alive for centuries before he was even a twinkle in his daddy's eye. But every chance he got, the boy tried to sass me. I wasn't buying it though. I simply annoyed him with daily amounts of annoying theme tunes, mainly from the television, or catchy tunes that I had picked up over the centuries.

"That girl!" He snarled.

oh.

"Darn right 'oh' you great oaf! Do you know how many scenarios Alice had visions for because you were actually debating whether or not to simply attack a human in public?" Were he human, he would be panting with the fury of his rant; his face would have flushed with anger. But like me, he was a vampire. Like my wife Alice and me, he had a special ... ability. Edward could read minds. There was no person alive he was yet unable to read like an open book. Usually he complains at the frivolity of the human mind, but at least he didn't have to contend with the barrage of emotions that a human teenager feels on more than just a daily basis. He did not have to go through their emotions every single day. Thousands of humans feeling thousands of emotions what felt like a thousand times every single day. And not once did it get any easier. The raging lust that was felt from the males as they watched the females, the sickeningly sweet love that countless unlucky teenage girls felt as they watched the 'love of their life' ignore them. The painful depression that followed the rejection of not being accepted by their peers.

That being said I wouldn't want to listen to them complain about their emotions either. We both got a pretty bad deal in that sense.

However I had the perk of being able to manipulate the emotions of those around me.

I had enough power to theoretically brainwash the entire state if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

"Jasper! Are you even listening to me?" He groused, realising that I wasn't even focusing my full attention to his rant. "Alice has been in a state ever since she had the first vision of that girl! What is wrong with you?"

"Jasper? ..." The small voice of my normally hyperactive pixie of a wife spoke from the doorway. Her face so open that I didn't even need to read her emotions to find out how she was feeling about this. The panic and despair rolling off her was almost crippling, but I had anticipated it. This was not the first time she had felt such things about me when she had visions including humans. It was to be a long night before I returned to school the next morning. "Jazzy? We need to talk. In private."

Great.

(Hermione POV)

Why couldn't I shake this feeling that someone had been watching me today? I know there are alwayspeople staring at me. I'm new, I'm English. People here fawn over that rubbish. But it was a different kind of feeling. It made my magic take notice. Nothing had done that since my last mission. The one that made me decide to leave the order, the UK ... the continent.

It made my nerves stand on end. If someone was watching me and they were not muggles, then I seriously needed to rethink my living here.

Which was a problem, as I had already agreed with the American Magical President that I would live here for at least the next three years under the care of the American Magical embassy until I turned 21, the legal age over here to be a true adult. At the time it seemed like a fairly simple idea. It sounded like it was the answer to all my problems, simply live in America for a long enough time, have people try and forget that I was a target before perhaps reaching back into the Magical world in Britain and seeing if the tattered remains of whatever friendships I had when I left where still alive. It was highly doubtable and without their need of my intelligence there was no real use for me within the order, or within their circle of friends anymore.

The only reason I made friends in the first place, was by being attacked by a 15 foot juvenile mountain troll that had wandered into the girl's bathroom and set its sights on a 12 year old version of myself. Too scared and too disbelieving of the world I had not recently joined to do anything to protect myself. Simply crawl around in the pools of water that were being sprayed in my direction as it battered the wooden stalls and disconnected the sinks from the walls. No simple act for any creature as the walls and furniture of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry always seemed to have a mind of its own.

From that day onward, the only way I was kept within a friendship was because Harry and Ronald were able to utilise my ability to seemingly absorb any information that came my way.

It was of course, not all that easy to learn everything as quickly as I did. But it seemed like the only way for me to fit in with the world. Ronald had it easy enough; he was brought up in the wizarding world. His family, though blood-traitors were still pure-blooded and that meant that the protocols that came with the wizarding society were second nature to them. For Harry, he really tried his very best at everything he did. Like me he was raised in the muggle world. But his life had a far darker beginning than my own. It was perhaps for that reason that he never felt the need to really harm another human being other than the Dark Lord and his followers. He valued life; he understood that no matter what was on the outside, what could be seen by everyone else ... there might be something very different hiding just under the stairs. Even so, he seemed to find magic come almost second nature to him - which in effect it was, having come from such a powerful line that connected him to some of the most powerful witches and wizards that the world had ever known. Me?

I had thrown into the world 2 days after finding out I was a witch. Apparently my being born of muggle parents was no consequence and I as a magical child whose power needed to be harnessed and controlled so I did not cause damage to anyone - by mistake.

To make up for my lack of background, my lack of real world knowledge or genetic power I studied harder than possibly any student had ever studied. Trying to absorb everything that came my way. hoping against hope that it would level out the playing field and that perhaps for once I would fit in would a group of people my own age instead of relying on the social graces and parties that my parents used to host.

No. It was better if I remained alone.

Keeping an eye out of the window for signs of muggles watching, I took my wand out from its holster on my right forearm. A necessity for any good duelling witch or wizard. Pointed the wooden focus instrument and lit the wood burning fire. There was no green powder in a dish aside the grand fireplace however. No. This house was not connected to the international floo network. It was better that way; it meant that she would not need to worry about people rushing through uninvited. But a good fire was essential to any study session. That and an endless supply of pepper up potions and a good dose of practise at reading tombs of books in a matter of hours.

Dinner was a small affair. Soup. Lukewarm. Unappetising. But fuel enough for what I had in for the long night ahead of me. There was much studying to be done before the morning light. It beat sleeping. Sleep brought dreaming, dreaming resulted in nightmares. And the fewer nightmares I had, the better I would be for it.

"Time to get to work. Don't you think Crooks?" I called out to the hallway, waiting for my half-kneazle to wander in and jump onto the large fluffy rug in front of the fire while I settled myself down into one of the high back winged arm chairs that adorned my living room.

You could take the witch out of Hogwarts. But you couldn't take Hogwarts out of the witch.
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