Author's Note: Alright, so it's been a while… I know, I know, I'm a terrible person. I left the entire Twilight fanfiction world up until recently, and I had a really hard time bringing the two worlds together again. I figured I'd wait until I could sew them back together rather than updating with a chapter that wasn't really fitting to the story.

I'm so sorry that I've left you all hanging for so long, though. Forgive me? I know it's short, but summer is coming soon, which means lots of time to write, so maybe I picked a perfect time to reenter the game, huh? Review, please, if any of you are still reading!

"Come with me," Alice said, an endearing dimple winking against her left cheek as she tugged at her sister's wrist.

"Why?" Rosalie demanded, not at all charmed by Alice's elfish nature.

"To see Hermione, of course," Alice explained, as if the answer ought to be obvious. It wasn't, because she knew that Rosalie was not at all keen on speaking of or to the newest addition to their family, but Alice knew that it would make Jasper so pleased if they were able to convince the youngest of them that they truly would accept her into their family, with time.

"I don't want to mingle with her just yet, Alice," Rosalie stalled, digging her heels into the carpeted floor and ceasing their forward progression.

Alice pouted. "Rosie, she's scared, and she feels alienated – by all of us, but mostly by you. I haven't spoken with her much, either, because I know we've all been trying to give her space to adjust, but you've been openly resentful of her presence here, and that weighs down on a person who's feeling overwhelmed and confused to begin with."

Rosalie shook her head, resolute in her decision. "Alice, I won't be any more welcoming of her now than I have been since she was first turned. I'm sure I'll get used to her eventually, but… not now," she replied honestly.

Alice sighed, trying wide eyes and her most adorable jutted out lip on her stoic younger sister.

Defiantly, Rosalie gracefully slid back into the couch, and picked up the magazine that she had been reading prior to Alice's interruption, flicking through the pages lazily.

Serious, now, Alice requested, "Just promise to try, Rosalie? You remember how terrifying it was – I know you do. She may not be human anymore, and she may not express it as naturally as some, but she still has feelings, Rose, and you know she's frightened."

Feeling slightly ashamed of herself and her actions, and more than put out that Alice had called her on it, Rosalie nodded and silently agreed that she would try to be kinder to Hermione, but she still had no intention of actively seeking her out to inform her of this new decision.

Rosalie's compliance, however, was enough for Alice, and the pixie seemed to twirl from the room, still intent on speaking with Hermione and befriending her. She had waited nearly two weeks now for Hermione to settle in, and she was excited to finally know Jasper's child, and allow Hermione to get to know her, as well. Jasper spoken fondly of her as her sire, but the stories that he had also shared with Alice about Hermione's past had stirred both concern and admiration within Alice. Her newest sister had seen and accomplished many things for such a young life, and Alice knew that she still suffered from the effects of both.

If Alice hadn't already known that Hermione was residing in the library, she would easily have been able to guess. The place had become the girl's oasis, for a reason that Alice couldn't quite fathom. She'd read many books throughout her life (and throughout her death), but she could never imagine finding as much joy in the act as Hermione seemed to. Nevertheless, she understood that it made Hermione happy – and was one of the few things that could – and she would never dream of revoking that right from her.

"What are you reading?" Alice asked casually, dancing around to the couch and taking a seat, noticing with amusement and slight confusion as Hermione jumped and reflexively placed a palm over her unbeating heart.

"God," Hermione hissed, closing her eyes and inhaling sharply. "You frightened me."

"I'm very sorry," Alice giggled. "Didn't you hear me come in?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and facetiously muttered, "I tend to get caught up in my books. I don't know anything outside of the words on the page, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."

Alice smiled softly. "Don't apologize. It's good to find something that can relax you that intensely. It's difficult for us to relieve stress sometimes, as we can't really sleep, so we can go for days thinking and thinking and never taking a break."

"Sounds an awful lot like my human life," Hermione murmured, placing her index finger at her current page and reaching to the back of the book for a slip of paper, which she removed and place between the pages where her finger marked.

"Jasper mentioned you were very intelligent," Alice recalled thoughtfully, eyes perceptively scanning for a reaction.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I was thrown into the magical world when I was eleven. There was a lot that scared me about it, and a lot more to learn about; I devoured all information about it that I could. Perhaps I was overcompensating for my lack of knowledge."

"You're uncomfortable," Alice stated starkly, compassion and sadness laced in her tone as she reached for Hermione's hand. "I apologize. I didn't mean to unsettle you."

"No… It's not you," Hermione paused, briefly. "Well, maybe some of it is you, but it's nothing you've done. I'm not a terribly social sort of person to begin with; I never have been. I've always been a fairly introverted individual. I stick to my books," she offered a wry grin, because she knew that Alice had certainly already noted her affection for this vast castle that they called a library. "I'm not adapted to meeting new people, and attaching the term "family" to it is heavy, for me. It makes it more important that I not mess up," Hermione bit her lip, hesitated. "Especially with you," she added carefully.

Confused, Alice recoiled, her hand still keeping Hermione's in a loose grasp. "What makes me different?"

Hermione swallowed, and kept her eyes focused on their hands, together, debating whether she should continue. "You're his mate," she whispered, somewhat brokenly, "and that makes it different with you on several levels. To start with, I feel selfish for occupying so much of his time. I know how often he worries for me, and I definitely appreciate and maybe enjoy it a little, but I don't at all want that to interfere with what the two of you have, because you can tell how much you mean to Jasper – how much you mean to each other. So there's part of me that's nervous that you and I won't get on well at all, because I know that if I were in your position, I'd be at least slightly irritated at the cause of his distraction Not that I think you're that kind of person!" Hermione rushed to add, "But I think it's fairly normal for a significant other – a mate? – to find that frustrating.

"And, going back to the fact that you're important to him… Well, that alone sort of puts the pressure on, a bit. I'm probably creating problems where there aren't any, and I apologize for assuming things about you and about him, but I'm concerned that if, for whatever reason, we don't like each other, then it will deeply hurt Jasper, and that's the very last thing that I want. I have the unavoidable, natural affection for my sire, yes, but in addition to that, Jasper has been… so incredible. He's been so welcoming and amiable and loving, and I don't think I could ever repay him that, not that I think he would ever expect that of me. But to not get on with his mate would almost feel like a betrayal to him, somehow."

Alice smiled softly, sweetly. "Have you really been worried about all of that?"

Hermione nodded after a brief pause, then said, "I'm sorry. I've always had a problem with talking excessively, but the fact that I no longer need to breathe means I don't have that subconscious reminder to shut up."

The tinkling laugh that escaped Alice relieved Hermione a miniscule amount, but there was still tension straining against her neck and shoulders. She felt Alice's hand tighten against hers briefly before she flipped it over and began tracing nonsensical patterns over her palm.

"Your voice is pretty," Alice decided, "so it's more than okay if you talk a lot. Also, I'd very much like it if you quit apologizing. I understand that this is a scary time for you, and that you've had a lot of things to think about. It upsets me that you so frequently apologize for the way that you feel. Speaking logically, it's necessary to sort out you feelings before you can adequately cope with situations. And, speaking personally, the way you express yourself is charming, and nothing to be ashamed of."

Hermione didn't respond immediately, feeling a block in her throat that made it difficult for her to swallow. "You're very kind," she whispered, closing her eyes and enjoying the physical contact with her "older sister" as she continued to draw designs with her fingers in Hermione's flattened hand.

"I try to be," Alice answered honestly, an easy smile picking up the corners of her lips and making the already adorable and stunning vampire appear lighthearted and carefree. "It doesn't always work out," she laughed, "and I end up manipulating people with some frequency, entirely unintentionally, but I try to be kind unless the situation or person calls for something else, for whatever reason."

"Is it rude of me to ask about your visions?" Hermione cautiously accepted the rough segue that Alice vaguely hinted at. "Forgive me," she rushed to say, shaking her head. "You don't have to tell me about them if it makes you uncomfortable, but I must admit, I've always been a bit of a skeptic as far as clairvoyance was concerned."

"Well, there's no crystal ball or Ouija board or anything," Alice said softly, trying to put her companion at ease. "In fact, I can't even control when I get them. They just sort of… happen. I apologize," she said quietly, shrugging, "I know that's not quite as involved as you expected, but that really is how it works. Most times I see my own future, or the futures of people I know and am close with, but sometimes it's just strangers whom I've never met. It's always subject to change, though. Just because I see it happen doesn't mean that it definitely will; it just means that the people involved in my visions of the future made certain decisions in the present, and the visions I see are the results. But the decisions in the present are subject to change, whether something changes those decisions or people just change their minds, for whatever reason. Am I making sense to you, Hermione? I apologize; I haven't had to explain this in quite a while."

"No, I understand, I think," she answered. "So it's just a future that could happen that way?"

"Exactly," Alice nodded, pleased with herself and with Hermione.

"It sounds more like Arithmancy than Divination, then," Hermione deduced. The decisions that people made were the equivalent of the numbers put into the equation, and those numbers (or decisions) altered the results.

Alice's eyes lit up. "What's Arithmancy?"

"It's a subject at Hogwarts – the magical school I attended. It ah… Well, essentially, you have equations that predict the future, but don't claim anything for certain. You can determine the probability of certain outcomes."

"Yes, it's sort of like that," Alice agreed, leaning forward and distractedly furrowing her brow as she smoothed over the lines on Hermione's palm again. "Hermione, may I perhaps be a bit intrusive and ask you a question?"

"I guess so," Hermione answered dubiously, "but I reserve the right not to answer."

Frowning at her easy distrust of people, Alice thought carefully about how to word her question appropriately. "I've witnessed a couple of visions recently that involve you," Alice began slowly, "and some of them involve your upcoming visit with the Volturi."

The growl that escaped Hermione was nothing short of animalistic, and entirely unexpected, but it was genuine. "I apologize," Hermione said, ducking her head shamefully. "That reaction was unnecessary. I just find the idea of the Volturi to be somewhat barbaric."

"I agree," Alice nodded sympathetically, "but they're very powerful, and incredibly intent upon recruiting the most powerful vampires available to their court. And, even without a vision, I would know that they would obviously extend an invite to you."

"I won't go, if that's what you're asking," Hermione declined immediately. "I understand that a source of government is required, however I disagree with their oligarchy, the punishments they issue forth, and their cruel manner of playing with their food before indulging in it."

"Okay," Alice smiled gently, genuinely enchanted by Hermione's strong morals and her fondness for ranting.

"That's all?" Hermione's brow furrowed confusedly.

Alice nodded.

"No it isn't," Hermione said softly, shaking her head. "It's okay if you don't wish to tell me," she assured quietly, "but there's a… something in your eye that tells me you're not telling me everything there is."

"You're very astute," Alice grinned affably, "however I'm afraid to say more for fear of altering the vision I've seen in a negative way."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Hermione acknowledged, not necessarily feeling as though Alice was hiding something essential from her, but reminded of how greatly she despised when people shielded things from her. But Alice had been very kind and understanding, and very physically close to her, and she wasn't willing to risk this promising new acquaintanceship (or whatever it was to be called) with her "older sister" and, more importantly, her sire's mate.