Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight.

A/N: My older brother got engaged recently! And his bride to be happens to be one of my closest friends for nearly fifteen years now! As a gift to celebrate that momentous occasion in my family, I will be updating all my stories this week!

***The only exception is Rewriting History. I'm working on the revision, so until I'm done with it, no new chapters will be posted.***

***Unedited version***

The Volturi

Sunday, April 10th, 2011

Late afternoon

Hermione Granger's Apartment

"And you remember where I keep the cat food, right?" Hermione anxiously asked, gently pushing Crookshanks out of her suitcase, a bead of sweat making its way down her back. She was really excited about this trip, but she couldn't help but feel anxious. The Volturi might hold the key to the mystery of the codex, but what would Aro require in exchange for providing her that information?

"Third cupboard above the sink," Harry intoned, hiding an eye roll behind a silk, red bra. "This is nice. Haven't seen you wear this."

"Give me that!" she snapped, snatching the bra out of his hands, and glaring at him as he chuckled. "You suck at helping, you know that, right?"

"I do," he agreed seriously. "You know I hate packing, so why you asked me to help you of all people, I'd never know."

"Trust me on this, you were my last choice. Everyone else was busy."

"Ah!"

"Yes, 'ah'. Now I need to know Crooks will be in good hands while I'm gone. Can I trust you with him?"

"Hey," he replied indignantly. "I can take care of a cat! And Crooks likes me!"

They exchanged a glance.

"Okay, he likes me better than Ron, and Draco hates him despite your cat's fondness for that prick. Not to mention, Ginny and Luna are out of town for work, your parents are in Paris for their anniversary, and your other friends don't get along with your weird cat. You don't have much of a choice in the matter."

"True," she sighed, finally shutting her magically enlarged – this time, she had acquired the proper license to use those spells on her bags, – suitcase, packing officially done. "And I do trust you. It's just – "

"You are worried," he said, reaching out to rub her shoulder. "Crooks' is getting on in years, and he's not been alone since your seventh year at Hogwarts."

"I know I'm overreacting, he can take care of himself, but this whole thing stresses me out!" she bemoaned, waving her wand in a complex pattern over her suitcase and carry on bag. A light simmer enveloped them, her protective wards making them shiver as she finished her incantations. "There."

"Just out of curiosity," he couldn't help but ask, "what would happen to anyone trying to steal your bag?"

Hermione blinked innocently.

"You don't want to know," she promised, a smirk lightening her previously somber features. Harry gulped.

"Okay, I believe you." He looked around, twirling his wand in his hand. "Now that you are all packed, what do you say we order in, and watch a movie? I'm starved and we haven't spend much time together in weeks."

"You are paying," she informed him casually, as she pulled him out of her bedroom, gently shutting the door as to not disturb her sleeping pet.

"Of course," he agreed pompously. "We can also talk about your recent visits to Robert Frost's office."

Hermione started.

"How d –"

"Auror, love," he winked, making himself comfortable on her couch. "I'm literally getting paid to solve mysteries. Not to mention, I'm keeping tabs on all my friends, just to be safe."

"That's so creepily sweet of you," she mocked, eyeing him warily.

"I'm trying to stop being a paranoid arsehole, but after everything… Can you blame me?"

"I guess not." She flopped beside him, stretching her legs on the coffee table. Harry refrained from pointing out her rule about 'no feet on the furniture'. She was clearly dead tired.

"Is it business… or pleasure?" he asked quietly, imbuing his tone with gentle coaxing.

Hermione stared at him, a mixture of amusement and annoyance twisting her face.

"How long have you known?"

"About you and Frost?" he inquired. At her nod, he shrugged. "Since the beginning. And I have to tell you, I'm hurt you didn't tell me. And no, Ginny did not say anything, and doesn't even know I know."

She snuggled closer to him, sighing in content when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.

"I didn't want anyone to know because it's not real. Well, it is real, but not real real. You know what I mean?"

"I do."

"We both agreed it'd be easier to keep things between us. If no one knew when it inevitably ended, we wouldn't have to tell a single soul."

"But what if it didn't end?"

"Oh, come of it, Harry," she laughed, shaking her head. "Robert and I are terrible for each other; we are both too stubborn and arrogant, we suck at apologizing and compromising, and we tend to drive ourselves to the ground with work. We can't keep each other balanced. We'd make each other miserable, I'm sure of it."

"And Robert feels this way?"

"Yes," she punctuated her word with a huff. "I'm not leading him on, if that's what worries you –"

"The guy is forty four years old. I'm not worried about you leading him on."

"Well, don't worry about me either. We both know what we want. And Robert is very good at giving me what I need."

"Which is?"

"Release," she deadpanned, smirking at his spluttering.

"You are sick!" he mock-accused, tingling her. At her laugh, he sighed. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"I know that, Harry. But you shouldn't worry. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

"It's just, after Rose…"

The atmosphere turned heavy, and he felt her tense beside him on the couch. He refused to back down though, Hermione needed to hear this.

"Harry –"

"No, let me finish," he pleaded, keeping her next to him by his grip around her shoulders. "You refuse to talk about her with anyone, and that's damaging to you, can't you see that?"

"I've talked with my mother, and Ginny, and Luna and you –"

"Yes, but we are your friends and family, 'Mione," he softly murmured. "What about Oliver, and Robert? Have you ever opened up about her with your significant others?"

She forced him to let her go, and she stood up, hands curling into fists at her sides.

"They wouldn't understand."

"You never gave them the chance to try to, love," he reminded her gently, rising to his feet. "Rose is a part of you. Don't you think the one who wishes to spend his life with you, deserves to know every part of you?"

"Robert –"

"I'm not talking about Frost in particular, Hermione!" he finally exploded, taking a step towards the trembling witch. "What about Oliver? I know he tried talking about her – "

"It was too soon –"

"And when won't it be?" he shouted, grasping her shoulders. "I cannot imagine what you went through when you lost her. I cannot imagine how you must feel every day you wake up and she's not with you. I do know it takes enormous strength to bear the loss of a child, and I have the utmost respect for you for functioning as well as you do, especially since I saw first hand what her death did to you.

"But I do know… I know it'll never come a time when it'll stop hurting. When talking about her won't feel like a stab to the heart. But if you want to find someone, you must be willing to open up yourself to them.

"She's always going to be present, even though she's gone. You have to give them the chance to get to know her – "

"How can I, when I never got to know her myself?" she shouted, shoving him away, her tears making his heart seize. "I never got to know her, Harry… They took her from me before I had the chance."

"Oh, sweetheart," he pulled her to him, his arms wrapping securely around her shoulders. "You love her, and that's what matters. And Robert, if that's the one you choose, must learn to respect that. He must be willing to help you cope when you are at your lowest, but to do that, he must learn how Rose affects you.

"You haven't told him about your nightmares, have you?"

She shuddered.

"No, only you and Augustus know."

"See?" he quietly prompted. "And does Healer Pye know you refuse to open up to your boyfriends?"

"No," she mumbled, tucking her head under his chin. She had hated when Harry had grown taller than her, but in times like this… It came handy.

"And why not?"

"I don't want to talk about this any-more, Harry…" she pleaded, her hand trembling on his chest. "Can we just watch a movie, and order food? I'm hungry."

"You know you can't keep avoiding this, 'Mione," he admonished, rubbing her back.

"I know, and I won't, promise. Just… I've had enough for tonight, okay? And I have to get up early to catch my Port-key, and Merlin knows I won't get much sleep now."

"Do you want me to stay over?"

"No," she said. Her answer contradicted her actions, as she clutched him harder, refusing to let him go.

"Still, can I stay? For my piece of mind," he murmured, smiling.

"Well, if you must." She tried for nonchalance, but he sensed her body relaxing against his and he bit his lip to stop from smirking.

"I do," he intoned, guiding her to her couch. "Now, let's get something to eat, shall we?"

xxXxx

Monday, April 11th, 2011

Early Morning

Department of International Magical Cooperation, International Port-Keys Offices, Ministry for Magic

"And when you meet them, Aro will try to touch you. Try to avoid that –"

"Because of his tactile telepathy, I know," she told Amos while wrapping her green scarf around her neck. Despite being spring, the temperature in England had taken the downhill recently, and when she'd come out her building, she had cursed for not taking her coat.

"Yes, yes. Also, do not bow to them – "

"As if!"

"Well, many foreign dignitaries do that, to appease their egos – "

"They are three thousand years old! I'm sure their egos are just fine!"

"Sure, sure," he agreed absentmindedly, watching her with narrowed eyes. Hermione fought against rolling her eyes. She knew her simple outfit – a grey pencil skirt, white blouse, black high heeled boots and a matching handbag, – wasn't stunning, but she felt confident, and business like.

After all, this was essentially a business meeting, and arriving in a sexy get up might give the Volturi the wrong idea about her motives and professionalism.

"Will you stop that?" she snapped, when he actually started to go around her, to better look at her. "I'm perfectly acceptable, so stop it!"

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just… You know how important this is, don't you?"

"Of course, I know," she reproved, tapping her wand to her left wrist. A wand holder appeared, and she secured her wand, before tapping the holder with her index finger, channeling a bit of magic to her touch. The whole thing disappeared, and she shook her arm, making sure it wasn't too loose.

"Smart," her boss commented, looking impressed at her wandless magic.

"Required," she murmured, remembering how easily she had been disarmed during the Hogsmead Massacre. George had made this holster for her, with help from Bill and Fleur; it was tied to an individual's magic, so only she could take it off, and charmed with runes and personal wards, thus making it impervious to disarming hexes. After she tested it, and found it adequate, George had started a collaboration with Kingsley, to provide the Aurors with such holsters.

"Now, do you have your itinerary?"

"What do you take me for, Amos? An amateur?" she demanded, shouldering her bag, and noting the drowsy looking witch at the Port-Key office motioning for her to approach.

"No, no, of course not, it's just the Volturi have done an exceptionally good job keeping their species in check, so congratulations are in order."

"Please," she scoffed, starting to walk towards the Office, Amos at her heels. "They only do this because Aro and Caius are megalomaniacs. They thrive at the power their position affords them. And really, the one deserving congratulations is Chelsea. She's the one who keeps their army under control, thus ensuring their power. Take her out, and the whole thing comes crumbling down."

"Don't say that to them!"

"Again, not an amateur," she gritted, exasperated. "If you don't trust me, Amos, why did you ask me to go in your stead?" she demanded, holding up a finger to the waiting witch.

Amos looked startled.

"I do trust you, Hermione. You are brilliant, the most capable witch of my acquaintance," he affirmed, holding up his hands in supplication. "And, well, one of the reasons I asked you… Well, Aro might have let it slip he'd like to meet you during our correspondence to organize this event, so I thought you going might be to our advantage."

That revelation stopped her in her tracks, her heart jumping to her throat.

Aro had asked for her.

"What?" she asked hoarsely, her stomach twisting.

Amos didn't hear her.

"Look at the time," he bemoaned, "you'll be late! Make haste, come on!"

He ushered her in the Office, unaware of her paling complexion.

"Remember, Hermione, you are representing our entire Ministry, so make us proud, yes?" he patted her shoulder awkwardly, checking his watch. "Now, I have an early meeting with the Minister, so I'll be leaving you here. Don't dawdle!"

He rushed out, waving at her over his shoulder.

"Are you okay, Miss Granger?" the witch behind the counter asked.

She nodded, accepting the Port-Key – a gold key, – numbly.

He asked for me.

The hook behind her naval made her nauseous, and she prayed she wouldn't throw up upon arrival. Now that would be a first meeting no one present would forget.

xxXxx

Monday, April 11th, 2011

Morning, Volterra, Italy

Reception, Grande Hotel

Hermione was welcomed and shown to her room; the manager of the Hotel had informed her that although the room her Ministry had reserved for her had been perfectly adequate, Mr Aro Volturi had requested – and paid handsomely, – for an upgrade. She was now occupying one of the two penthouse suites of the hotel.

She had thought to refuse, but the memory of Amos' cautionary words – the Volturi might be pretentious arseholes, but they were useful, – against insulting them, made her grit her teeth, and accept the gesture with a brittle smile.

Instructing the staff not to disturb her for any reason, she had set to work on warding the room; she knew all suites were shielded against intruders, but she trusted only herself in such situations.

It took her three hours, but in the end, she was satisfied; no one could enter her room that she had not invited in. And anyone trying to break into… Well, the consequences for that were graver than she felt comfortable discussing.

She did not feel comfortable with the personal interest Aro had seemingly taken of her; she had never met him, or correspond with him, so why was he so fascinated with her?

Taking off her clothes, she decided to take a bath and rest for a couple of hours.

Tonight she was expected to attend a formal dinner with Aro and his brothers, to welcome her to the city. Other foreign dignitaries were expected to be there, but the knot in her stomach didn't loosen.

Her instincts were screaming at her, warning her of impending doom, but she ignored them.

Whatever the Three Kings had planned for her, she'd be ready to fight back; she was Hermione Granger, dammit. She was no coward.

The hot water helped relax her, and she was asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

xxXxx

Same day, late evening

The Three Kings were everything she had expected, and more.

Marcus was quiet, aloof, and disinterested in everything that happened around him; his only purpose really, was to serve Aro with his gift. Didyme's demise had broken something inside of him, something that had never healed, even centuries after her passing.

She thought, briefly, how the stoic vampire would react if he ever found out who was responsible for his mate's passing; would he serve Aro with such loyalty, if he found out he had been the one to end his own sister's life? Just because she dared to earn Marcus' love and devotion?

Caius was the handsomest of the three, with his blond hair and soft looking lips; but his looks were marred by the frown permanently fixed to his face. He looked like he'd like nothing more than to rip their throats apart, and it was apparent he hated having them there.

Clearly, Caius did not like the reminder that the Volturi were not, in fact, the all powerful rulers of the vampire species. Having the people truly in charge there, rubbed him the wrong way.

She had glimpsed just a smidgen of his dark thoughts when he'd briefly made eye contact upon their introduction; in such situations, she always used Legilimency, to detect any kind of danger, and it proved very enlightening in regards to the Kings.

Caius really hated them.

As for Aro…

He was the most dangerous of them all.

His friendly smile that never reached his eyes, his honeyed words, and overeager attempts to satisfy their every need prickled at her; especially since the King had, unashamedly, tried to read her thoughts the minute she had walked into the large, opulent dining room.

He had glided – really, there was no other word to describe the way these vampires moved, – right up to her, ignoring the rest of the dignitaries, and reached for her hand, pretending it was only a chivalrous attempt to kiss it.

She had felt him, his oily presence in her mind like a virus, trying to sneak in past her defenses. Hermione had held strong, not actively pushing him out, but reinforcing her mental shields and keeping her polite smile on.

He had greeted her enthusiastically, and she had answered in kind, both content to play this social game, aware of each other's strengths.

After the formal introductions and greetings were complete, Aro had clapped his hands and had a blond, statuesque woman escort them to the dining hall.

The young witch noticed the two ethereal forms, clad in evening dresses that probably cost more than her apartment, that stood behind Aro and Caius's chairs, and mentally noted their identities; Sulpicia and Athenodora, the infamous Wives. They were more beautiful that words could describe, and looked more fragile than any vampire she'd ever seen. They did not speak, look at anyone, or even attempt to move away from their position.

The young looking woman standing close to them, wore the darkest robes among the Volturi Guard, almost black; that was Chelsea, the vampire that was responsible for keeping all the rest in harmony. Her prominence in the Guard was distinct as she stood separate from the rest, close to the Kings themselves.

The short, child-like vampire with yellow-blonde hair, and the face of a cherub that stood on the far left side of the Hall, beside a similar looking vampire, with darker hair, did not look happy as she stared at her in particular, her red eyes darkening with each passing minute.

She felt a prickling in her shields, and Hermione sensed the intent almost immediately.

"My apologies, Aro," she interrupted smoothly, her eyes never leaving the vampire known as Jane. Aro, who had been in conversation with the MACUSA representative, looked up at her, delight in his features. "But I wasn't aware you had given permission to Jane to attempt to torture me with her gift. Do you do that to all your guests, or am I that special?"

Silence.

The magic folk in the room tensed, their magic crackling as they raised up personal shields and let their eyes wander at the vampires around them.

Easy prey, they had been, she thought sardonically, letting their defenses down, thinking they were safe because of their magical advantage. They had not thought that if the vampires attacked them unexpectedly, they would have no time to even think about casting a spell.

The atmosphere turned from friendly to cold in a matter of seconds.

Aro, his smile frozen, stared at her with shining eyes. Caius kept shooting daggers at her, his hands curling into fists.

Jane looked murderous.

"I can assure you, Seniorita Granger, I had given my Guard express directions about how you were all to be treated. And it did not include the use of any of their gifts."

His ruby red eyes slowly turned to Jane, who shrunk back like a chastised child, her face scowling.

"So either Jane disobeyed you, or someone else ordered her to." She did not take her eyes from Aro, but it was Caius who answered her accusation.

"And what does that mean, Senorita Granger?" he hissed.

Finally turning her eyes to him, she graced him with a razor sharp grin.

"Exactly what I said, Caius," she answered smoothly, toying with her crystal glass. "Either she was ordered to attack me, or she chose to disobey a direct order not to. That's the only two options for her actions."

"I can assure you, no one here means you any harm," Aro insisted, raising placating hands, and smiling a razor sharp smile. "We are all friends here, yes?"

"Friends do not attack each other," she reminded him, unwilling to let the matter drop. "Jane tried to use her gift on me. If I had not received training for exactly those kind of attacks, I'd have experienced the full strength of her power.

"And I know what power she possesses. And I do not appreciate having to defend myself, when supposedly in a friendly environment.

"I don't know how you choose to rule, Aro, but where I come from, when a subordinate breaks the rules, they suffer the consequences, no matter how important they are to the team."

Her implicit threat heard, she leaned back in her chair, making sure to let the vampires see the sparks dancing in her fingertips, signs of her power.

Aro regarded her mutely before he snapped his fingers. A large vampire materialised behind him, waist bend as he bowed to his King.

"Felix," he intoned, his voice music to their ears. "Please escort Jane outside and wait for me in the throne room. I wish to speak to her alone, after our guests leave for the night."

Jane did not seem happy with being kicked out, her tiny hands curling into fists as Felix grabbed her arm and pulled her out.

Hermione didn't need to use Legilimency to feel their hatred; it practically emanated from them, their eyes turning a shade of red so dark, it looked almost black. Mentally, she checked her personal shields, and relaxed when she felt them strong, a thin layer of magic enveloping her body, protecting her.

"My apologies for this unfortunate incident," Aro was saying, his words directed at them all, but his eyes never left hers. "I can assure you it won't happen again."

"See to it that it won't," Director Stewart Miles, the MACUSA representative, said. "The Volturi have been of great help to the wizarding community over the centuries, we can't forget that, but if you overstep your boundaries again… Well, there are those who covet your position among your kind, so replacing you won't be much of an issue for the International Confederation of Wizards if need arises."

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

Caius looked nearly apoplectic with rage, but Aro remained expressionless, only his eyes – now as black as obsidian, – betrayed his fury at being reprimanded like a child.

"I'm sure it won't come to that," Hermione intervened smoothly, raising her wine glass to her lips. "Aro knows what's best for his family, and will act accordingly to ensure their well-being. Won't you, Aro?"

"Of course," he agreed, his enthusiasm making a swift return as he assessed her. "Jane's disobedience will be dealt with, and I guarantee it shan't happen again."

"That's all we're asking." She took a sip, savoring the sweet wine, before gracing her fellow ambassadors with an encouraging smile, and tucking in her delicious food, carefully avoiding Aros' searching gaze, and Caius' murderous one.

Her stay in Volterra had started wonderfully.

xxXxx

Hermione's hotel room,

Later that night

Hermione hadn't expected Aro's fascination with her to continue after the dinner fiasco, but she'd been wrong.

A large bouquet of blood red roses were waiting for her in her Hotel room – her wards assured her only the maid had entered her suite, – along with three different parcels, wrapped in royal blue paper, and tied with indigo ribbons.

A gift for a lovely witch.

With love,

Aro

Cringing at the 'love' part – Merlin, Aro gave her the creeps, – she checked the parcels and flowers for any kind of Muggle or magical surveillance equipment, before double checking them for any kind of dangerous substance.

Call her paranoid, but she really doubted Jane had acted on her own.

Caius clearly hated them, but he was no idiot; he'd never outright attack them.

No, if she had to make a guess, she'd say Jane had acted on Aro's orders; he was cunning, intelligent, and a megalomaniac, and most unfortunately, interested in her personally.

He'd been testing her, for that she was certain.

After finding nothing threatening about his gifts, she incinerated the flowers – petty of her, but she really couldn't bear keeping them in her suite, knowing Aro had picked them for her, – and opened the presents.

A gorgeous evening dress was resting in satin, more elaborate and eye catching than the simple black and blue one she had picked for herself, and it was exactly her size. Shuddering at the thought of how exactly Aro had managed to find her exact measurements, she pushed the dress away, and opened the other two gifts.

Predictably, shoes and a set of simple, yet priceless, jewelry greeted her when she opened the boxes, both matching the dress.

She had no doubt in her mind Aro would be expecting her to wear his present to the Ball, and she felt sick to her stomach at the knowledge that she had to; after dinner, this was clearly his attempt at offering an olive branch, and if she refused to take it…

Aro would be furious, and although she wasn't particularly afraid of the Volturi King, she hated having to explain to Amos why their relationship with the Volturi had taken a hit.

It's just a dress, Hermione, it won't be such a bother to wear it. It's gorgeous after all.

Cursing under her breath, she closed the boxes, and dumped them in her big closet, before shedding her clothes and going to take a long soak in her suite's luxurious bathtub.

What she needed right now was a hot soak, and sleep. Tomorrow, she'll deal with Aro's obsession, and Caius' hatred.

Tomorrow was another day.

xxXxx

Friday, April 15th, 2011

Forks, Seattle, Washington D.C.

Cullen Residence

"I don't like it," Jacob grumbled, watching Bella pack her suitcase. Unlike her sisters in law, she only planned to have the one suitcase. Alice was packing her evening dress for her, not like she had a say in what she'd wear after all, so she planned to only bring casual clothes with her.

As for Nessie, well Rosalie had called dibs on packing the little munchkin, and it was never a good idea to get between Rose and whatever gift she was planning on giving Nessie.

Edward had finished packing two days ago, and was once again missing.

Out of all of them, he was the more nervous about their impending visit to Volterra; she couldn't blame him, not really, when she had seen the fervent light in Aro's eyes as he had regarded Alice, Nessie, and her.

But Bella was confident in their abilities; she had trained all these years, and now she could easily extend her shield to encompass her family, and had good enough control for them to actively fight while she kept them safe.

And with Edward and Alice to warn them of any danger, they were good to go.

Nessie was really excited about vising Italy as well.

Other than Isle Esme, where the family spend summer vacation every year, she had never left America, and was excited about visiting the place where her grandpapa had learned so much.

"I don't like it either, Jake, but not going is not an option."

"Why?" he whined, throwing himself across the huge bed.

"Because," she answered back just as petulantly, "Aro will consider it a great offense, and he might be tempted to start another fight with us. And I don't need that right now."

"We could take them," Jake argued, rising enough to lean back on his elbows.

"We could," she agreed, sipping shut her suitcase, packing all done. "But what if Aro attacks Charlie? Or the people of Forks?"

Jacob frowned.

"You know we'll be leaving soon," she murmured. She had yet to tell Charlie, but Jacob had known for some time now. He'd be coming with them after all; none of the Cullens – with the exception of Rosalie, – was cruel enough to separate him from Nessie. "What if Aro sends them here, in order to get back at us?"

"That bastard," he growled, his eyes narrowing. "I'll rip his head off one day, you'll see."

"Let's hope it never comes to that point," she announced, straightening. "I can't take the stress of another fight. It'll kill me."

"You are an immortal," Jake told her with a smirk. "You can't die from stress."

"Shut up, or I'll bite you."

"Oh, Bells, does Eddiekins know you are flirting with me?"

He guffawed, just barely avoiding the shoe she threw at him, the heel embedding itself to the wall.

"Alice will skin you alive for that," he told her cheerily, before sprinting out of the room, Bella chasing after him.