Harry stood in front of the cramped up cupboard, back straight and shoulders tense. Harry's thin limbs, covered in too-big, secondhand pants, shook slightly in Vernon was behind him. By the purple vein that was throbbing on this forehead and the labored breathing, Harry knew Uncle Vernon was very angry without even needing to look at him.

"Look at what you've done, boy," Vernon Dursley hissed as he grabbed a fistful of Harry's black hair and forced his head to look at the ceiling. "And tell me what that…thing is."

Harry watched with strained eyesight since his glasses were crushed in Vernon's chubby, greasy hand. There was, where the remnants of the ceiling started to peel off, a large, burn hole as if someone set fire on it. Harry could see the top floor through it. Dudley's unused, messy desk looked back at him and a small ceiling fan seemed to sway to the left and to the right.

Vernon's mouth was so close to his ear he could feel the small tendrils of moustache tickle the edge of his neck. Harry shuddered, repulsed.

"I said look, boy! Tell me, how in the devil's name did the ceiling turn into that." Vernon whispered dangerously, pink face turning dark purple.

"I…I don't know." Harry whispered back, still afraid. He honestly did not know how the ceiling just…cracked and how the rest just crumbled into dust.

It was just… Vernon and Dudley yelling at him and then his hands started trembling in anger and… and… A huge crash resonated through the walls and all he remembered is the faint headache that nudged on his head.

"Stupid boy and your stupid freaks and your stupid, stupid family for dying…." Vernon muttered as he opened the door to the cupboard, now filled with brooms and old clothes. Harry long moved into the old room upstairs. But now it seems that all privileges have gone to dust.

"My parents weren't stupid." Harry mumbled.

"What did you say, boy?" Vernon slowly turned to him, a slow smile creeping into his face.

"Nothing, sir."

"Don't you nothing me. I heard something. What did you say?" Vernon hissed angrily.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck rose. "Nothing, sir. I swear…"

Vernon grabbed the collar of his shirt and raised him up, "I will not tolerate your disobedience anymore. You should be thankful you're here, under our house where we're feeding a freak like you."

Harry was even more silent but inside his head, with the headache that sang out loud, he was furious.

"Got that, freak?"

Harry nodded his head slowly and regretted it as the headache turned on him full blast.

"I didn't hear anything from that useless mouth of yours. Vernon growled and threw Harry into the room with great force. Harry tumbled into the room and landed hallway to the bed and his back inching to the floor. Harry groaned as dust scattered from the sudden movement. The room reeked of wet rugs and something else that Harry did not want to know. He had to control himself from gagging slightly.

"You will remain in here for the rest of the day, no food, no water. You will not get out. Tomorrow, I expect you to apologize, fix that damned ceiling and finish whatever chores you did not do today. Understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"Good. Now don't get out of this room unless I call you. You will not, I repeat, you will not do any of that freaky stuff while I am gone." And the small, rectangular door slammed shut. Harry looked at the rom, memories of the past violently entering his brain with a speed of a thousand cars. He turned and looked around. After a few rummaging, he found something that made him smile.

A small ragged doll made of old washcloth, tied with string and two draw dots for eyes. Harry smiled and rubbed the cut hair.

The door opened and Vernon threw something on Harry's face. A piece of torn paper.

"Food, in case you get hungry. Eat up, you won't get any till tomorrow." . nd the door slammed shut again.

More dust sprinkled over Harry as he stood up and tried not to cry, holding into te doll tighter. Sure it was childish of him to resort to the toy, but sometimes he needed someone. And if that someone was a used rag-turned-toy, then that was fine with him. Letting all the love he had radiate into the doll and back, Harry sighed. Plopping himself on the bed, Harry waited until sleep finally took over him.

Alice was running faster than she had ever run before. Her legs, though tired and a little wobbly from all the running, were moving at full speed and she was smiling as bright as the sun. Her hoodie and jacket covered her from the sun's rays as she avoided sparkling. Jasper, too, was covered in a long turtleneck, and was yelling at her a distance a little farther from where she was. He had not caught up with her yet. But she was just too excited to… to…

"Alice, slow down!" Jasper called from a few miles away. "Alice!"

Alice laughed a hearty, free-spirited laugh as she willed her tired legs to slow down just a little bit. Jasper, running at full speed was able to catch up with her a few minutes later.

"Someone's excited." Jasper mumbled.

"I just… I can't wait to finally see him again." Alice said, her breath hitching. "Well you seemed fairly excited to meet him earlier."

"I just never expected for us to be moving at this rate. We've been moving at, what, the speed of light?" Jasper joked.

Alice just winked at continued running faster, surpassing Jacob, the trees, the mountains and everything else. The scenery melded into many places as they ran across the world.

"Alice! Don't you dare…" Jasper growled and ran even faster. He could hear her small, tinkering laughter a mile away. He smiled.

She burst through the door, probably breaking the lock and crushing the doorknob. But she didn't care as she wiped away the small excess metal that covered her hand. The house she was in was settled in a place called Little Whinging, in Surrey, England. Such a weird name for a subdivision, Jasper thought. They were a little far from home but Alice seemed to be as enthusiastic as ever.

But Jasper watched with wide eyes as Alice's mood shifted from a happy, jolly façade to a grotesque mask of anger. He was about to ask her when a strong, metallic but wonderful smell assaulted his nose. Jasper cursed and tried not to breathe. But Alice, Alice's nostril's flared as she walked slowly towards the entrance. Her small shoulders shook and she stalked to the kitchen, probably already able to memorize the room from all her visions.

All the commotion Alice caused was drowned by the yelling of an angry whale of a man. In the kitchen were a dainty little supper table and a small, wooden chair that had trouble supporting a young, not so small boy. Standing up on the other end was a stick of a woman who resembled a horse rather than a human.

And in the middle of the room was a man with graying hair, a rotund belly and receding hairline hovering angrily above a small figure curled on the floor. With a newspaper in hand, and surprisingly, tufts of black hair that had been forcibly pulled out of the small boy.

The small boy shook, cradling a bone-thin arm. Little porcelain matter stuck on the pale skin, glistening from the sun that shone through a small window.

Jasper realized it at once. The broken pleased scattered on the floor, the small boy crying and an angry, old man with a purple face…

The man had struck the boy with a plate.

From the horrified looks of the horsewoman and the portly boy, it was probably his first time to do that. The woman, still unaware of the two vampires watching the scene, moved to help the boy but a thick arm stopped her from moving any further. The young boy was doing something on the floor. Jasper saw in pity that he was trying to find and fix the already broken set of glasses that were previously under the man's foot. Looking more closely, Jasper realized that it was covered in duct tape.

"Vernon—" The woman said.

"Enough of this nonsense, Petunia. You will clean this up, boy, and make me another plate of breakfast before noon. Now get up, you lazy freak and fix this mess." The man all but whispered. Alice watched horrified as the young man on the floor tried to get up, but only winced. Alice then noticed white fragments littered over his head.

"You monster!" Alice screamed. Three heads whipped up to look at them and one tried to turn but was unable to. Alice then ran towards the fat, horrible man and latched herself on to him. The thin woman screamed and the younger one, probably their son, tried to get away. But Jasper hissed at the boy and he stepped back until his back hit the kitchen island.

Alice, with as much force she could muster, pushed the man back until he smashed into a wall. The man groaned, or tried to groan as her fingers were pushing to hard on his neck, leaving him no space to breathe. The already purple was beginning to turn a dark shade of blue and the man's eyes bulged out as Alice bared her teeth to him. With anger clouding her mind, she pushed into his chest and let go of her other hand and the man gasped for breath while wheezing from the pain.

Jasper ran to the same man and held him with one hand as Alice angrily hissed. He thrashed wildly before his hands were snapped together.

"How dare you!" Alice screamed, "How dare you do this to a child?!"

Jasper growled at him lowly and his hands tighten considerably. "Give me one reason to not kill you, Vernon Dursley."

The man, Vernon Dursley, struggled and his body shook. His small, beady eyes were covered with unconscious tears as Jasper dropped him to the floor and hit him with a steady fist. Once, twice he let his anger get the best of him, not even smelling the blood anymore. Jasper felt like such a hypocrite but he couldn't control himself. Alice kept on screaming profanities at the shivering body.

Petunia ran and took a plate and smashed it on Jasper's shoulders but he turned, unfazed and left her with a chilling, wide smile.

"Yes?" He asked, still smiling. Alice stopped and watched the woman back away slowly, dropping another plate to the floor. The raven-haired boy winced.

Alice hissed at her and bent to take one of the larger, jagged pieces.

"Stop, please." The boy on the floor begged, heads over his ears, "Stop hurting them."

Alice stared at the boy and her gazed softened. But still, why stop hurting them? They caused him this pain, they deserved… they deserved…

Alice gasped as she watched the stretch of life left on the mustached man's face, body slumped to the floor already looking dead. She raised her hand to her face and watched a few dribbles of fresh, luscious blood trickle down a stained finger. She gulped and avoided breathing. Jasper, on the other hand was already bent towards the boy, and with careful hands, stroked his face.

"Oh, Harry…" She gasped out and bent to the floor next to Jasper who caressed the young boy.

Alice, in all her years, smiled at the sweet scene. Jasper slowly and oh so carefully, trying not to let the scent overpower him, let Harry feel a sweet, calming emotion, numbing him from the pain. Harry gasped and a rare smile reached his face.

"We need to bring you to Carlisle." Jasper said and stood up, turning sharply to the man and his horse-faced wife. Their child was nowhere to be seen.

Harry was confused but the numbing sensation was just so… just so… Harry was just so tired and sleepy that the darkness came to him before he even noticed.

Alice watched as Jasper carried the boy. She hissed at the man who was now tied to a chair in record speed, the wife, too. A small lighter caught her attention. She smiled, and thought the horrid feeling of murder reached her brain, she could not seem to say no.

She lit the fire, careful not to let it touch her on a small notebook and threw it a few feet across the chairs they were tied to. Their faces were covered with pillowcases. But before Alice could do anything, Jasper held her and she washed out the fire with the sink. She knew better. And with that, the two vampires and the young boy left, off to live a new life in Forks, Washington.

"He's fifteen, Carlisle." Alice said.

"He certainly looks younger. Malnourished, too. He's too short for his age, too thin and too weak. What was his family feeding him? Scraps?" Carlisle asked, a hand rubbing his forehead.

"But he's beautiful." Alice said as she watched the young boy sleep in the bed. She let her hands run through his pallid skin. She growled as she looked at a fading bruise. With wild, messy hair enveloping an innocent face, Harry always looked too blameless, too fragile. Like before, he retained the cherub features but now, with his past mingling with a new body, an aristocratic air surrounded him. Like he was born into a family of great measure.

Anyway, he was still very beautiful, even more so, Alice believed. As a human, he was already perfect to Alice.

Carlisle nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You did the right thing."

"Yes, yes I did." Alice smiled for the first time during that day. He really was beautiful… even for a boy. "I just miss him so much even if I knew him for so little."

Carlisle gave her a long, one-sided hug.

"Is the abuse evident?"

"Not that much, but his body is quite battered. He is very tired. His hands are calloused. Did his family make him work all day?

Alice did not look at Carlisle.

"They treated him like he was below them. Horrible, horrible people."

After a long silence, with Harry's breathing the only noise that disrupted it, Alice spoke up, "I just never knew I'd be able to see him again. I never knew I'd be able to see him all grown up, too."

A long pause followed.

"They hurt him. The plate, the fist… I don't even know what else he's gone through." Alice said, her hands turning into fists.

"He's here now. He's safe." Carlisle reassured her. "That is all that is important now."

"He'll never go back there, ever." Alice said fiercely, determination all over her eyes as she stared into the window."

"Never, I promise you, Alice. He is family now. And we will protect each other."

Alice moved closer to Harry and continued stroking his messy, raven hair. She smiled. She never believed in reincarnations, she never believed in fate.

But now, looking at her younger brother's face, a shadow of the child he used to be, she was happy, set for an eternity with him and Jasper and Carlisle and everyone else.

Jasper entered the room and sat next to her on the bed. Despite Jasper's body behind hers, her gaze never left the small boy.

"He looks just like you." Jasper whispered into her ear.

"I've been told." She smiled, her hand entwining with his, ""He used to have our grandmother's eyes, though. Green, a very beautiful green unlike my dull brown's. I used to be very jealous of him."

"It's funny, Jasper. Ever since last month, I've been getting visions, not of the future but of my past. I never remembered him, and up to that month I never thought of him. Never. At all. I have never felt so clueless. And here he is now. My wonderful brother, my beautiful, wonderful brother."

Jasper looked at the boy, head resting on his soulmate's shoulders. "How did he…"

"Die? He slept one night for a long time. Never woke up again." Alice said without much wavering in her voice.

She spoke again, tone soft, "I cried. That was when my vision's came to me the most. I always believed he sent them to me. I believed he was my angel."

Jasper and Alice continued to watch the sleeping boy. For today, Alice was happy.