1. Apples to Apples, Dust to Dust

Okay, I know that some of the people who have me on Author Alert are very, very, very angry with me. Let me first say that I am a million kajillion times SO SORRY that I haven't finished my other stories. To be very frank and honest, I lost the muse for most of those but I will, SERIOUSLY, try to finish them because its been about… a while… I might rewrite them because I'm looking over them now and I think my writing could better… WELL ANYWHO, I just felt the desire to write this. It's AU, obviously and a crossover between Twilight and Harry Potter. Before any of you think I'm stealing from HappilyBored's story Harry Potter and the Days in Twilight , I'M NOT. True, I did read her story before I actually began writing but I have been thinking about this crossover for a while without the right output and no need to worry, this story is different from hers. We don't need redundancy, do we?

The sky was dark, as was to be expected for this time. Twilight. Harry was still not at Privet Drive, not that the Dursleys' minded much. It was a habit he had taken up lately, staying out and away from the Muggles he loathed as much as possible. He sat immobile on one of the rusty swings in the park. It was the very same park that he and Dudley had left together just the summer before… right before being attacked by Dementors. But even with that memory coming back to him now, it was better than going back to his own personal hell. Brilliant emerald eyes stared unseeingly at the sky, the brightest of stars only shining through the dimming light of the thinning sunset. He had no purpose to be here. In fact, he had been advised to stay in the Dursleys' house until the Weasleys' came for him, so there were going to be repercussions for this, he was sure. They were still 'watching out for him.' More like stalking him. It irked him, knowing that 'Dung or whoever else the Order had commandeered was lurking somewhere in the shadows, making sure he was staying out of trouble.

It was obvious with Mrs. Figg. She would purposely stand in front of her window, her wrinkled eyes watching through her curtained window. The only good thing that came from this was the fact that it made Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon extremely nervous. It was always fun to watch them fret over something they needn't even worry about. They - of course- still didn't know that Mrs. Figg was a squib. However, they would then turn on him and accuse him of somehow showing off his 'freakiness' and exposing himself. These arguments were short-lived and usually ended with him being sent to his room without supper or even food for a day. After that, he would receive meals from Aunt Petunia in front of his door until he finally left his room and house itself. So began the cycle again.

His clothes stuck to him and a bead of sweat slid down the back of his neck. He would have shivered had the air been less humid and warm but at this point the perspiration was welcome. He longed for cool air but didn't want to leave the park. He would have to though, wouldn't he? Harry closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips and a crease forming on his forehead. How many more days before the Weasleys would come and take him? Six more? Or was it five? A happy day, probably one of the first this summer and he couldn't even remember when it was going to happen. He sighed and pushed off of the rusty swing, the squeaking of it hinges was the loudest sound around him and it brought him farther out of his thoughts.

He felt so strange. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, that he knew. He felt numb and all that people saw of him was that numbness. If Hermione and Ron had been there with him, they would have seen through it.

A war raged on within Harry's mind, one of grief and anger and guilt. And he was fighting himself.
I suppose I should start heading back now… It'll take me a good few minutes to get back but then again, I could always walk slowly. The thought of prolonging his return to 4 Privet Drive lifted the sides of his mouth into a lopsided smirk, a shadow of the goofy grin that showed itself when he was around his friends. He looked around himself, suddenly realizing that the sun had finally set and he was surrounded by darkness. And so he started back to the house he had lived in since he could remember.

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The walk back to the Dursleys' was shorter than he would have liked. The lights were on in almost all of the downstairs rooms. Through one of the windows he could see the television was on, well all of them were on, including the one near the dining table where the uptight family sat. Apparently they hadn't bothered waiting for him. Then again, he doubted that they knew he had left. Harry approached the front door and reached up to the porch lamp, feeling behind it until he found the spare key. The Dursleys' were unnervingly paranoid. As if a locked door would keep his lot out. He unlocked the door and quickly slid the key back up to its hiding place. He entered and closed the door quietly behind him, not wanting to deal with whatever insults or inquiries that were going to be thrown at him if Vernon and Petunia decided to suddenly become threatened by the fact that he was out a lot. They would probably come up with something ridiculous, it wouldn't be hard for them to do so.

Harry took to the stairs, climbing quickly to the second landing. "BOY!" His uncle bellowed. The sound of Harry's feet on the stairs must have alerted them to his presence in the house and he mentally kicked himself for being so loud. "Get down here now!" Harry sighed, reluctant to obey his uncle. He was so close to his room, so close to sanctuary from his family. But if he didn't indulge him then the purple faced man would soon come up let yell at him in his room. Harry sighed in frustration and turned on his heel, bounding down the stairs and through the small hall. He stood a few feet away from his family, the kitchen counter separating an already segregated household. Uncle Vernon stood at the head of the table while Dudley sat at the other end, not paying an ounce of attention to him. Aunt Petunia sat in between them, looking frightfully at her husband and then back at her nephew.

For a few seconds the only sounds were that of the shows on the televisions blaring on and merging together as well as that of Dudley's utensils scraping against his plate. Then, Vernon spoke. "Boy, I'm sick and tired of all your funny business." He began, moving away from the table in a jerky fashion. Harry rolled his eyes, the urge to suppress the action coming too late to his brain. This set Vernon off, "I mean it boy! All this wandering around you're doing is bothering the neighbors. It's bad enough that you look odd but acting it in public at this age is-"

"Maybe I don't care what the bloody neighbors think!" Harry exclaimed, cutting the older man off. Vernon sputtered, his eyes bulging. It wasn't the first time that Harry had spoken back to his Uncle but it still seemed to surprise him when he did. "I don't care what anyone thinks anymore! Why can't you just leave me alone the way you used to?"

A cold wind blew through the room, ruffling Harry's hair and unsettling his family even more. The lights flickered overhead and Harry knew that his anger was getting the best of him. It was beginning to spill over and affect his surroundings.

"Now listen here boy-" Vernon moved toward him, the anger building in his voice. Harry had always been a thorn in his side, the only thing that kept him from living a normal life. And now he was becoming more difficult than usual.

Harry drew his wand, a reflexive instinct he had developed. Aunt Petunia gave a quiet yelp and reached for her son protectively. Vernon staggered back before his senses came to him. He sneered, "You're not allowed to use that rubbish out of that wretched school of yours. You wouldn't-"

"Didn't I just say that I don't care anymore?" He pointed his wand at his uncle, all of his resentment toward the man bubbling up in him. The reality was that he did care. About never going to Hogwarts again. It was all he had now. That thought stopped the anger within him and the breeze settled. He needed to go back to Hogwarts.

Harry's breath came hard through his nose; his mouth was pressed into a thin line. The Dursleys' stared at him – or really they stared at his wand- and no one said anything.

Needless to say, Harry regretted listening to his uncle. They aren't worth being expelled over. They proved that last summer. Just get out of here…

Harry lowered his wand, glowering at his uncle. "Sod off and leave me alone."

And then Harry was the wind. He turned on his heel and fled from the kitchen, bounding up the stairs to his room. The door to his small room slammed behind him and Hedwig hooted disapprovingly from within her cage. "Sorry Hedwig." He mumbled as he listened for any movement downstairs. Maybe they would just lock him in his room and be done with it. Or, maybe, just maybe, they would actually listen and leave him alone.

He turned to Hedwig, who shifted uncomfortably in her cage, deciding something very quickly. She was better off going to Ron's earlier on than just sitting in her cage the whole time. He crossed the tiny room to her cage and opened the door. Then, he promptly opened the window. "Hedwig, I think it's best you head to the Burrow before me. I don't think both of us should be cooped up here until then." Hedwig flapped her wings in agreement after leaving her cage. She sat on the windowsill for a moment, considering him. He knew she was a smart owl, she could probably read his mind in her own way. This was why she hadn't left yet. Harry gave the snowy owl a knowing look. "I'll be fine. I can handle myself." He said. Hedwig considered him for a moment longer but then decided that he was right and took off.

He watched until she blended in with the shadows of the night and then shut the window. Did he envy her freedom, her ability to go almost everywhere she please? Yes, he did; but could he be blamed? Really? He didn't like being kept in the dark, being protected by friends when it was he who should be protecting them. And hadn't enough people died for him? First his parents, then Cedric and Sirius… Harry's chest contracted mechanically at the thought of his late godfather. He had been trying to be so strong in front of everyone while he was at school. However, when he got back to the Dursleys' Harry withdrew into himself. Something like that was easier to hide on paper than it was in person.

He shut the window and moved away from it, almost tripping over the trunk that was protruding from in front of his bed. It was only then that he noticed it. A crimson, perfect red apple sat on his bedspread, glinting in the dim light of his room.

Harry furrowed his brow, scrutinizing it carefully. Where had it come from? For a second, he fooled himself into thinking that perhaps his Aunt could have snuck in while he was letting Hedwig out. Yeah, right. Brilliant deduction Harry, especially when you practically scared the knickers off her just five minutes ago. He stared at it, unsure of how he should approach it. He had been active in the Wizarding World long enough to know that everything wasn't as it seemed. But… what harm could an apple do?

Harry grabbed it and instantly regretted doing so. The air left his lungs as he suddenly found himself airborne, grasping onto the apple for dear life. His scar prickled peculiarly. He couldn't see where he was, the wind was whipping around him so hard that it was painful.

And then he hit the ground, so hard that he the wind was knocked out of him again. His mouth opened and he sucked in air greedily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He blinked and focused his eyes behind his glasses. The canopy above him was thick and green. And dripping.

A thick drop landed on his forehead and then another on his arm. He sat up quickly, looking around. He was in a lush forest, surrounded by trees and moss and wet wood. The leaves above him were so clustered together that there was very little sky to see from where he was. Where the hell… He began to question his whereabouts when he remembered the apple. He stood up, searching wildly for it. It was a Portkey. How on earth did a Portkey end up in his room? In a place he was supposed to be safe, no less. He searched the ground near where he had landed, noting that more drops were falling on him from above now and more rapidly. The rain was there but the apple was gone.

So, what do yuo guys think? This is just the first chapter and I have chapters two and three done, but before I post them I'd like to know what you all think! R & R please, it's my first story in a while, lol.