Red Dawn Rising

Abby Ebon

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Disclaimer; I do not own any part of the Twilight Saga; or the Harry Potter series. That last part is starting to feel like déjà vu.

Dedication; written for, Rayvens Cave, having made the 270th review in my story "Scorched Sand", thus got the "Readers Reward" requested an Emmett Cullen/Harry Potter pairing.

Note; …finger is healed, I celebrate with… new fic!

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Muddy Tracks

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It was the first weekend that Bella was to work Newton's Olympic Outfitters, one which she would not soon forget. For she found her herself face-to-face with the oddest looking young man she had ever seen.

He was scruffy, looking as if he needed a shave, his black hair looked as if no attempt had ever been taken to tame it; it hung down past his shoulders. A wild and willful mass of disarrayed black strands, it would have been attractive, had it not looked unwashed – dull and flat.

Lovely green eyes peered around, squinting, as if he could not see everything that he should be able to, though it was with a odd sense that she thought in a certain forbidding way that he saw more then anyone else could, or would, however much his forelocks (in need of a good trim) hung down into his eyes. It looked as if someone had taken black eyeliner and dusted it into his eyes, given how tired he looked, Bella was not inclined to think this a trend; though she rued the day some numbskull thought it would be 'stylish' to look so harried, so tired and dried up – as if something unseen drained him day-to-day, unstoppable in its hunger.

There was a slouch to his shoulders, as if he thought the world rested upon his every choice; something deep in her sympathized and perhaps that had been what had urged her forward, cautious of him – and strangers just the same, being raised by a police chief - though she was, to speak with a stranger. Surely he was just passing though, as no one yet knew of him, and he had not lingered enough to be muttered about in gossip circles at school Friday, so he had not been here more then overnight; if that.

"Are you," - with a intestacy that left her breathless, green eyes pinned her as if she was no better off then thrown up against a wall, her voice faltered, and swallowing, she pressed onward for words, "alright?" it came out a half-choked whisper, stupid, as if she was too dumb to know better then to speak to a stranger.

"Not truly. Can't help that, though, can you? Nah, and I'd not ask it of you, even if you could and would try." There was a bitterness that she did not quite catch, that first time he spoke, so startled she was by his accent; it seemed to rumble out of his chest, crawling over her skin, sinking into the air, which seemed to tremble strangely in response to his oddity.

He was displaced here, he wasn't meant to be here – though she felt it, she had no words to tell him of his wrongness. He would have laughed, even so, if she had dared.

"I…I don't know - what… what do you mean?" It stumbled from her lips, frightened and rushed, before she could think to press them shut.

"Not many do. No harm, tell me, have you a tent among all this?" His hand flicked through the shop dismissively, his eyes narrowed and amused, as if he did not think Bella would match wits with him to help, even if it was her job to assist people who didn't think they knew everything there was about camping and hunting in these parts.

'What else does he think I am doing here, in this horrid orange vest?' The thought passed through her mind, quick and biting, the first flash of real anger she felt toward him in this encounter. Bella had not bothered to divert her eyes, though some sign of her ire must have shown over her face, as he stumbled back, looking away quickly, as if to give her room to prove him wrong. It was strange, even then, after that; he would not again meet her eyes.

"Are you planning on camping in the woods around here, then? Or hunting?" Bella asked, feeling bad for the thought, though he would not know she had ever thought it. Guilt licked at her, even as she led him along the aisle toward the back where they kept the tents and rifles. He gave them a long thoughtful look, considering, finally shaking his head from whatever thought or memory had snared him. She was secretly glad that he seemed to have decided against purchasing a rifle; it somehow seemed against his nature.

Brilliant green eyes seemed to burn in stifled annoyance, as he looked over the tents she had gestured too, something about them he found lacking. He was out of luck, as they did not have any others in stock. Bella allowed herself to be pleased at his discomfort; he would have to deal with the hand dealt him here – as there were no other decent sporting good stores within a fair distance from here.

"Staying around about here for a bit, not sure of that sport, hunting, but a good bit of adventure, yeah, that's worth living, I suspect." There was irony that rung in his tone, and an almost smile festered upon his lips. He glanced at her in the corner of his eye, speculative. Bella resisted the urge to squirm or fidget, as it was an uncomfortable moment to realize he was a sort of ruggedly handsome. Maybe this was a fashion over the ocean; he certainly fit the model well.

"Have you anything bigger?" He spoke slowly, as if he had asked this before. Perhaps he had, and she had not heard him. Bella felt her cheeks flush, as she looked away, pretending to look over the offered tents; these were the two person kind, but some were not suited to so little a living area, even if it was for a few days. Somehow, she had thought that he wouldn't really complain, but having been proved wrong, Bella bit her lips in thought.

"How many do you have with you?" Bella questioned him, though she made sure to look as if it didn't really matter to her. And why should it? Bella did not often connect to a stranger like this, and it hurt, a bit, that he seemed so disinterested in her. He would not be so interesting himself, Bella told herself firmly, if she did not read so much into him.

"Two." It was a quick reply, biting, as if warning her off to judging.

"Might take a family size then, six person, it's the biggest we have." There was something like respect in his eyes when he glanced to her again. Bella, having pointed the family tent out and resigned herself to helping him carry it out, saw him kneel and as if it was nothing, lift the long and thick box from the bottom most shelf.

Bella knew her eyes were wide, and she was pale, expecting and dreading in his rush that he had miscalculated the weight and would cry out in pain – but he did not, remaining mute and turning to her incredulous gaze. Wiry and slender he did not look like he could have had much muscle on him, he was as short as she was, and just as slim! It seemed a impossible feat, but he had done it with such ease, as if it was instinct and not to be second guessed.

"It'll do then." His green eyes were smug and teasing, if nothing else. Bella managed not to gape, shutting her mouth, clenching her teeth until they ached. She was sure, his was a mocking grin– or at least, he was silently making fun of her! He said nothing though, obediently following her back to the register. Here, at last, he seemed fidgety – nervous, and she wondered for the first time if he might not have all the money he might need.

"How long are you…camping," Bella paused remembering that he never said he was or wasn't camping, though she got the impression this was as good as a word for what he was doing as any other, "around these parts, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Long as it takes, not much more then a month, I'd guess." He half mumbled the words, looking toward the door as if he expected it to open up with or without someone behind it. Puzzled by this, Bella named the price, almost absent mindedly, and found green eyes looking into hers.

'As long as what takes, I wonder…' Belatedly, the thought passed though her mind.

He seemed to cringe a little, though he could not have heard her thought – this was the second time such a thing had happened and Bella found it as uncomfortable as the first time. The ring of the bell startled them both into looking towards the door, which had suddenly sprung open. A couple came though the door; a red head with freckles and pretty sky blue eyes, he stood tall and was burly and looked as if he was very fit – the girl was a head shorter then the red head, though just as tall as Bella herself, she was thin, with hair that frizzed untamed though the length of it was kept back and away from her face with clips.

It took Bella a moment to realize that they were looking right at her, or rather, right at the stranger – who was, apparently, no stranger to them. He seemed relieved to see them there, offering up the most sincere smile she had seen upon his face in the handful of time she had known him in.

"Harry, mate, what's this keeping you?" It was the red haired man who had asked, walking easily up to 'Harry' and wrapping an arm about his shoulder, while eyeing the packaged tent, seemingly dismayed. He took no notice of her, which was just as well as any thought to speaking (and what, indeed, would she say?) had slipped away from her.

"That it, huh?" He sneered a little, as if the size of the tent was somehow a personal insult. Harry sighed a little, as if resigned to this flare of temper.

"Ron, I honestly swear, sometimes, any manners Molly taught to you went in one ear and out another in the same hour." It was a lecturing tone, though slightly strained and scandalized; Bella could not help but feel a little bad for her for Ron's sake. She smiled though, when she saw Bella was looking so Bella suspected that things were not as bad between them as she might otherwise be led to think by their actions and words.

"Hermione, you should know that for truth, what with all the rule breaking we've done this year, I'd think it'd be a fairly clear truth, even by now." Ron teased right back, there was something about the 'bickering' that made it feel comfortable, soothing, rather then a honest fight - though Bella thought that once it had been a truth, that they had fought and been hurt, but those hurts were healed.

"How much is it again?" Harry asked after clearing his throat, looking intently to Hermione as he spoke. It was Hermione who knew the currency, Bella noticed right away as intelligent eyes peered to Bella as she answered, that much was obvious – they had not been long away from home.

Bella had to wonder, even as she counted the money out, all American made for all their foreign accents, and her unfounded half fear of turning away foreign currency – why had they left?

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Note; ….now I must be off to an eight-hour standing/walking shift of evening work, please review to make my evening better?