Updated A/N June 2011: This story has been slightly rewritten to better fit my more sane and logical taste at the current date. I'M BACK! I know I've left this story for years, so I thank any original readers willing to stick around and continue to read this fic. ^_^ If no one's visited my profile, I'll recap the sheer madness of my ramblings by stating that I've been sick for what seems like forever. The illness was sudden, annoying, and was pesky enough to mess with my natural sense of crazed cheer and turned me into some ridiculous cross between Mr. Grouch and Eeyore. I'm now sick of being sick and on enough meds to need regular blood tests just to ensure my liver's not shriveling into a bean. It's a joy, really. I've sat out the entirety of my senior year in college, currently awaiting for the board to declare me sane enough to return and talking to random walls in an effort to not bore myself when I'm not working. Due to the stares, I've decided to redirect my energy to writing again. YAY! ENJOY!

Pairings: Eventual EC/HP,RL/SB ECLIPSE Past relationships GW/HP, NT/RL, RL/SB, BS/EC. No Character bashing.

(oldish A/N:) "Hello! I finally decided to try my hand at this particular crossover. The Potter world, or Harry's past, goes away from Canon after sixth book—he's been through a harsh decade of war before coming to Forks as a 21 yr old, just months after killing Voldemort. In the Twilight universe, the Volturi are harsher in their demands in New Moon, and things go from there. There will be No Character Bashing. At all. I just wanted to see if I could possibly garner any interests with this fic. So, please review and let me know what you think. Eclipse states that Edward returns to school, for "a handful of weeks" before graduation, which in interest of the timeline and believability, I will adjust to Edward actually returning for the spring semester of Senior high.

Warning: This WILL BE SLASH, and has a M rating at that, meaning males will be engaged in a sexual relationship. There will also be strong language and swearing. An M rating implies adult situations inappropriate for a younger audience, which there will be plenty of. Please heed the warnings.

Ch. 1 RESOLVE

The narrative begins from New Moon, the Volturi scene (in case anyone's interested in that fact).

Alice stiffened, eyes glazed to lunacy as she assaulted Edward with her visions, piercing through his temple with a frenzy of panic. The images seemed fractured, laced with such torturous resolve despite his sister's frantic deconstructions.

The Volturi watched, impassive faces mocking the hysterical cry threatening to rip from his throat.

Passivity shattered with detest in only a pair of blood red eyes. Caius: always the instigator. "The girl will expose our secrets," he explained slowly, as if Edward was nothing but an ignorant child. "In contrast to our human pets, we do not blind ourselves in a veil of affection that could stand the risk of exposing us to her kind," he spat. "You could not destroy her if she threatened to speak."

Aro's burst of laughter rang out.

Edward flinched.

Alice's vision was unwinding in reality like it wasn't supposed to, bearing its ugly talons and he was heedless to stop it, too weak to claw into Aro's stony flesh until he made him stop breathing god damn it, made the words he was about to say die before they came.

Regardless of the supposed democracy that was the Volturi, it was very much conductive to Aro being dictator. And Aro was the worst type of poison. "We will allow her to live, Caius," Aro cut in with a little smile, and the burn in his blood was excruciating as the old vampire turned his gaze to him and Edward knew what was coming.

"But as punishment for your petulance and blatant disregard for our laws, you shall not continue relations with this human," Aro sighed.

Horror still flooded to his chest and squeezed. "And if I do?" They would have to nail his arms to the floor with stakes if they wanted him to comply because it wouldn't be fathomable to leave Bella otherwise. Just one month away from her and he'd been reduced to depravity, crushing the doorknob of his South American apartment for hours, reaching for straws as to why he shouldn't crawl his cursed body back to Forks.

And when Rosalie voice had uttered that Bella had taken her own life, it had been all he could do not to feed on everyone and anything with life, to gorge until the monster inside him was screaming to her "why?" and "how?" and "when?" and "WHY? DAMN HER, WHY?"

"If I can't-" Edward stepped forward, halting when Cauis' face twisted into a menacing snarl.

"Then you forfeit both your lives."

As Edward fought the urge to commit unspeakable acts of violence in the rage that consumed him, he shoved the emotion down, gripping an ornate banister as he bowed his head. "I besiege you-" he begged before being thrown back against the wall.

"You are tethered on a very thin rope already," Felix hissed, unable to take his disobedience any longer, his claim to the title of warden reigning true. He bruised Edward's jaw with the ferocity of his grip, "the mercy we show you now is a favor to Carlisle alone."

"Master, can I…?" The small form in the corner hummed smoothly. Petite little Jane, the sadist of the flavorful bunch…

Edward grimaced despite himself.

"Leave it, my dear Jane," Aro responded, dismissing Felix and replacing his hands with his own pallid palms. His hand hovered over Edward's face, not touching, but enough to belittle him with the realization that he was completely at their mercy.

"Oh, Edward, my young one, I know how agonizing," he sighed with glee, "this will be, but the next time you attempt to expose yourself, we will not stop at you. Imagine, your precious family and hers in the balance…how I do love my tragedies as well." Aro smiled beatifically. "No, we will expect you to live just as you were, Edward. We wouldn't want Carlisle upset, would we?" he said, as if he wasn't already shaking at their tenacity.

The expected sway of a small body behind him came before he heard the 'swoosh' of it crumbling to the ground.

"Bella!" Edward croaked, just managing to catch her as she collapsed behind them.

Felix watched them silently, gifting Edward with the mental imagery of Bella's fragile neck being squeezed until it snapped. Edward would put up a fight, just as Felix had done after nameless faces had taken his own mate's life, but only Edward himself would come to an undignified end.

Edward wound his arms protectively around Bella, glancing at Aro for security against Felix's fantasies, sacrificing the rest of his dignity in the exchange and with it the right to challenge them any longer.

Edward wouldn't even get to feel a sense of righteousness for extinguishing his only reason to exist. And wasn't that hysterical?

The cold faces of the other members in the group stared passively back at him, Aro feigning sympathy. "You know, dear Edward, we would have loved to keep her," he bent over to stroke Bella's cheek, ignoring how Edward curled his fist to keep from striking him, "but alas I feel that her nature might be too soft for the likes of us. Much too precious for your warm little coven, in fact..."

Aro swept gracefully to the other side of the room, his onyx hair catching the light as he returned with a black cloak. "To conceal you," he explained with gentleness as he placed it on Edward's slumped shoulders. "Do wait for nightfall on your way out; though it would be best not to dally…surely you know how opinion sways." Here he smiled at Felix.

Demetri positioned himself at the door, ready to escort them back to the lower levels. Edward hesitated before carefully arranging Bella in his arms, having to shift only slightly to get them both through the adorned doorway. Alice, with all her grace, still shot him glances as they were led to the tunnel to the outside world.

His sister helped a stirring Bella out of his arms an hour later. Edward found himself incapable of looking at her.

Bella, bright girl that she was, waited, painfully bearing the brunt of his humiliation and devastation as they treaded across the ancient streets of Volterra and boarded their plane. The flight, unbearable as it was with Bella seated next to him, was a necessary agony.

The rest of the night passed in gasping flashes full of torturous resolve disguised in petty kindnesses.

Esme's mothering arms seared him with condolences, while Rosalie's apologies filtered like ashes through his ears. As he faltered through the reality, the eyes of his coven branded his back with pity.

Bella's window was bitingly cold as he climbed inside her bedroom, telling himself it would be the last time he saw the little glass lamb on Bella's dresser, the lion next to it roaring at the pebbled ceiling of her room, at the tiny pink glowing stars left from her childhood.

He resolved to take the ridiculous little lamb with him and shatter the lion for its perverseness.

"Edward."

Her voice, God, her voice—he wouldn't forget that small quaking sound for the rest of his life.

"Th…They will hurt them?" Bella choked out after a lapse of silence, not meeting his eyes.

Edward swallowed painfully. "Ruthlessly," he confirmed. "Just the notion of going against them is offence enough to the Volturi."

Bella nodded, her head cradled between her knees on her old dilapidated mattress. Edward expected she would be sick soon.

Edward's knees gave out and he slid to the floor in sympathy. There was only one way he was going to leave the room; after hours of contemplation he'd only come up with one. He was sickeningly resolute that he would have to betray her to survive the separation, to make it out of her room with both of them somewhat alive.

"Bell—" he faltered. It hurt so terribly in the place where his heart was meant to be lifeless that he was nearly breathless. He inhaled deeply, using Bella's sweet scent to steel himself.

"I love you. I will love you for eternity," he muttered and her sudden sob struck him like knife in his gut.

His voice nearly didn't return. "When I said those things to you before leaving those months ago I was half expecting you to see through it, especially when I was already half mad with my passion for you. So there is only one last thing I'll ask of you," he pressed on before the crushing weight on his chest became life threatening, "Believe it when I say this will ruin me, and trust that when I refuse to leave your shadow it's because to do otherwise would destroy me."

Something soft crashed into him from his side and it wasn't until he looked down that he realized Bella was clutching to him, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. He stained her again as he clasped her chin and kissed her, crucifying her with his weakness.

Bella had held doubts before of their relationship, bitter words he'd first offered to her for salvation, and in a brutish blow he'd taken them and crushed her along with himself. To save himself, he had stolen all her resentment and had enough monstrosity left to request she allow him to stay like a constant curse at her side while she was made to pretend they had never existed.

They spent the last hour of their relationship wound around each other, averting their gazes. As he was leaving, he placed her on the bed, facing away from the window. One last kiss, this one to her temple, and he was running through the forest.

He spent the rest of the night hunting, astonished that vampires couldn't drown in blood.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\

"Still alive and kicking, Potter? Guess I've lost a few chunks too many, eh? Those bastard goblins are making me pen this, know it's the only reason I'm wasting valuable time while I could be fighting another prancing costume fairy. I don't give a buggering fuck what you do with my lot or my rotting corpse; burn it, use it for kindle, or go dancing with it when you've got your fancy, pretty-boy knickers in a twist.

Now piss off and teach those bleeding maggots a thing or two!"

"This is Alastor Moody's will and testament?" Harry Potter asked Griphook weakly, half disturbed and oddly touched by the words on the parchment. It had taken months after gaining back control of their bank for Gringotts to execute the thousands of wills left by the many that had died in the war. A year ago, a disarmed Moody had deliberately taken Antonin Dolohov with him when he plunged to his death from the Hogwarts' Astronomy tower. And the old bastard left everything he had to Harry, more out of grudging respect than anything else.

The small, severe goblin bored into his eyes, as if deciding what Harry meant by his tone. "There are three properties," he continued neutrally. "The first is his home in Glasgow, there is a flat in Staffordshire, and an unlisted property in Washington, United States. He favored the ambient magic there."

Harry perused the notes on the last property with keen interest, noting the strange name: Forks.

Griphook cleared his throat. "There are other matters to attend to as well, pertaining to your defeat of one Tom Riddle three months ago. The International Council of Magic had placed an award on his execution and international policy mandates that when a threat arises which endangers the security, anonymity, and safety of the joined wizarding population, then all established ruling bodies must contribute to a war fund—which happens to include payroll for all of the military forces. Having been the key commander as well as the sole defeater of the Dark Lord and hundreds of his followers at-"

"Please get to the point," Harry cut in coldly, rubbing the line between his brows.

"Moving on," Griphook continued, stopping abruptly, and his lip curling in disdain towards the whining pram to Harry's left. He continued regardless, "As a result, the amount of currency in you vault has increased exponentially, and will continue to do so with your monthly pensions. We would like the authority to move it to a more secure level of clearance. Though we would likely keep personal artifacts in the one you have now."

Harry sighed, nodding.

"On that note," Griphook pressed forward, attempting to ignore the sound that was steadily becoming more insistent, "Arthur and Molly Weasley have left you a few heirlooms as well as some rather unusual Muggle devices. And we have already placed the personal artifacts and journals of the late Mrs. Ginevra Weasley Potter in the vault you have established for your daugh- "

Harry's sour expression instantly softened as the whining pram started wail. "Excuse me, she's just hungry." Summoning the bottle of his daughter's milk, Harry uncovered her and lifted the baby up from the navy-blue pram, securing her in his arms as he sat back down. At nine months, his Lily was already gripping the bottle so that all he had to do was balance it over her mouth.

The baby had Ginny's dainty nose and dimpled cheeks, but Harry had given her his emerald eyes and dark hair, as well as-Ron claimed-her rather reclusive nature. As far as infants went, Lily had always been very quiet, even after Harry had saved his newborn from the burning ruins of the Burrow. Ginny had secured her in the attic under the protection of the family ghoul while the Dementors descended on the Burrow.

There'd been no corpses left to bury once Harry had tracked down the Death Eaters responsible. It was then, barely eight months ago, that Ron and Hermione had stepped out of the war with their young daughter Rose, taking care of Lily as Harry led his army to slaughter. Some days, Harry wondered if it was the only reason his closest friends were still alive today.

The memories settled over him at once, rapidly wearing him down to a migraine; not that the obsessive security and contained magic running through Gringotts wasn't already making his overly sensitive body weary with restraint. Magic tingled under the tips of his fingers, exhausting his body with an excess of unreleased power.

"Perhaps we will continue this at a later date, Griphook suggested, eyeing his daughter as if she was bound to spit up on his polished desk at any second. "It would be best for you to deliver this parcel from Rubeus Hagrid, as his Will instructed of its return to your godfather Sirius Black. You are living with him, yes?"

"I'll do that," Harry assured him, grabbing the small wooden box offered to him and shrinking it into his pocket with a wave of his wand. The tip of his holly wand sparked as Harry cut off the flow of magic, as if his power was already threatening to burst from invisible seams.

"Da-ba-ba-fa!" Lily squealed, slamming her bottle down repeatedly on the desk in to a fit of baby giggles.

"My thoughts exactly, love," he responded with a cautious half-grin, seeing the horror on Griphook's face at the droplets of milk now splattered across his desk.

Tactless, Harry used that moment to forget he was a wizard, choosing his sleeve to wipe at them, smiling nervously when the drops became sticky white smudges against the polish. Lily joined him in the task, her dribble landing in long gooey streaks around Harry's attempts and it was that which prompted Harry to hope that goblins didn't have the capacity for aneurisms.

Griphook was visibly twitching.

"I think I'm just gonna go, then?" Harry tried pleasantly.

Griphook had the grace to keep his expression at a mere grimace.

Harry stood abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor. Griphook was semi-successful in muffling an undignified squeak. Lily only made things worse, squirming in his arms as he tried to juggle a diaper bag and a bulky pram out the modest office. It took two more dents in the goblin's desk before Griphook physically tore the pram from his fumbling hands and shoved it and them out the door.

Harry was still befuddled when a crowd a hundred strong came rushing towards him. It was pure instinct that had him shielding his startled baby in his coat. Reporters greedily rose to their heels for photographs of the 'hero' out and about with his infant daughter. The flashes were blinding, but Harry knew better than to keep his expression anything but neutral.

It was a lesson he had learned in the last week, when an angry retort to a pushy reporter had earned the caption of being the "Dangerously Devastated Hero." The public panic that followed had nearly destroyed his efforts to reinstate the Ministry of Magic.

A bony hand curled around his wrist. "This way, Mr. Potter!" a goblin called out. The tellers had all but abandoned their posts, furiously scurrying to keep reporters away from him. Heedless, the crowd overtook the furious little creatures and tugged at him for attention. It took his daughter wailing in fright for Harry to cast a low powered blasting charm, clearing a path for him to make it to the exit and Apparate.

Harry sighed miserably after getting home, uncurling a fist to soothe his sobbing daughter instead.

He'd been thinking of an escape from the madness for a very long time, but it wasn't until seeing Moody's notes on one of his homes that he felt he'd come across a plausible location. He leaned against the door of his London flat as he contemplated whether it would count as abandoning his people.

It hadn't been his intention to become such a symbol of prosperity and recovery to the very afraid wizarding populace, not in the least. Harry had declined the seat of Minister of Magic in the hope of someday receding into the background again, after all. But he couldn't keep putting Lily last, and he could afford even less to let their constant demands on him push him to resent them all.

Forks, United States, would have to be his only solution. He'd have to contact Hermione and Ron to get things moving. Harry could only hope Forks was truly small enough to be an escape from his newfound cataclysmic celebrity.