Under the Cursed Moon - CH - 14 (Patreon)

Harry had been so engrossed in building his business empire in Forks that he paid little attention to the whispers and rumors swirling around town. Establishing Phoenix Sports Equipment Co. had consumed his days, leaving little room for anything else. But as he settled into a rhythm, he began noticing things that he had previously overlooked.

It started with the whispers about the Cullens—how the mysterious family had just returned from their trip to Alaska. Harry hadn’t thought much of them before, aside from the occasional idle curiosity. They were often mentioned in conversations around town, their porcelain skin, golden eyes, and almost ethereal beauty making them the subject of endless fascination. But it wasn’t until he saw them himself that he felt something shift.

One evening, as Harry was leaving his factory after a late night of overseeing production, he noticed a sleek, silver Volvo pull up to the edge of the forest. He watched curiously as several members of the Cullen family emerged, their movements smooth and graceful. They were unnaturally quiet, and as Harry’s sharp eyes tracked them, he felt a chill run down his spine. He had seen creatures move like that before—but never this close to humans.

As he stood there, still as a statue, his heightened senses kicked in. There was something off about them. Something… predatory. Harry had spent years mastering his lycanthropic nature, training himself to control the beast within him. It allowed him to sense other supernatural beings in a way most humans could not. And what he sensed from the Cullens wasn’t human at all.

“Vampires,” he muttered under his breath, barely believing the word even as it left his lips.

Harry’s pulse quickened. He had read countless stories about vampires—cold, ruthless, bloodthirsty monsters that prowled the night, preying on humans. But what were these vampires doing here in Forks, living among humans as if they were ordinary people? It defied everything he knew.

When he returned home that night, his mind buzzed with questions, and Hermione noticed immediately. “You’re fidgeting,” she observed, looking up from her book. “Something on your mind?”

Harry sat down heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s the Cullens,” he said finally. “I think they’re vampires.”

Hermione blinked. “Vampires? Are you sure?”

“I saw them move tonight,” Harry explained, his voice low and urgent. “Their speed, their silence—it’s not normal. They’re definitely not human.”

“Well,” Hermione said thoughtfully, closing her book, “if they’re vampires, they’re certainly not behaving like the ones we’ve read about. They’re not hiding in the shadows or attacking people.”

“That’s what confuses me,” Harry admitted, pacing the room. “Why would they be here, living in a town full of humans? It doesn’t make sense.”

Hermione, ever the researcher, immediately got to work. She spent the next several days poring over ancient texts, reaching out to old contacts in the magical community, and digging through every resource she could find. Finally, she came to Harry with her findings.

“They call themselves ‘vegetarians,’” she said, handing him a thick folder of notes. “It means they feed on animal blood instead of human blood.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s… unusual.”

“It’s practically unheard of,” Hermione agreed. “But according to everything I’ve read, they’ve been doing it for decades. The Cullens are well-known in certain circles for their unique lifestyle. They try to live peacefully alongside humans.”

Harry sat back, absorbing this information. “Why would they choose to live like this?” he wondered aloud. “It must be incredibly difficult, fighting against their nature.”

“I think it’s because they’re trying to be more… human,” Hermione suggested. “Or at least, as human as they can be. They’re making a conscious effort to coexist, even if it means living on the fringes.”

Harry fell silent, his mind drifting back to his own experiences. The prejudice he had faced as a lycan in the wizarding world was still fresh in his memory. People had always assumed the worst of him, believing he was dangerous simply because of what he was. He had never asked for the curse that ran through his veins, but he had worked hard to prove he was more than just a monster.

“I can’t judge them,” Harry said quietly, more to himself than to Hermione. “Not without understanding them first.”

Hermione’s eyes softened. “You’ve always had a big heart, Harry. But you don’t have to make any decisions right now. Just… be cautious.”

Over the next few weeks, Harry observed the Cullens more closely, trying to understand their habits. He noticed how they never seemed to eat or drink at the local diner, how they moved through the school halls with a fluid grace that was almost inhuman. He saw how they kept to themselves, always on the outskirts of conversations, never fully integrating into the community.

One evening, Harry encountered Dr. Carlisle Cullen at the local hospital when he took Teddy in for a minor injury. The doctor was kind and courteous, his golden eyes warm and full of concern. But Harry could sense the undercurrent of power lurking beneath his calm exterior. It was like looking into the eyes of a wolf pretending to be a sheep.

"Thank you for seeing him so quickly," Harry said, shaking Carlisle's hand as they finished the check-up. "Teddy's always been a bit of a daredevil."

Carlisle smiled, but there was something ancient in his gaze. "Boys will be boys," he replied gently. "They need to explore the world around them."

As they exchanged polite goodbyes, Harry felt a pang of sympathy. He could sense the loneliness in Carlisle's eyes, the longing to be accepted despite what he was. It was a feeling Harry knew all too well.

That night, Harry and Hermione sat by the fireplace, discussing the encounter. “He didn’t seem dangerous,” Harry admitted, staring into the flickering flames. “But there’s still something unsettling about them.”

“They’re trying to live peacefully,” Hermione reminded him. “We can’t judge them for that.”

“I know,” Harry sighed. “But I can’t risk drawing attention to us, either. If anyone found out about me, about what I am...”

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “We’ll be careful,” she promised. “We’ll keep our distance.”

And so, Harry made a conscious decision to avoid the Cullens as much as possible. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself or to Teddy, who was blissfully unaware of the supernatural undercurrents swirling around Forks. But every now and then, Harry would catch a glimpse of them—watching him from a distance, their eyes full of curiosity.

One afternoon, as he walked through the woods near his factory, he stumbled upon Alice Cullen sitting alone on a fallen tree. She looked up, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Harry felt the world slow down. There was something hauntingly familiar about her, something that reminded him of the isolation he had felt for so many years.

“Hello, Harry,” she greeted, her voice as soft as a whisper.

“How do you know my name?” Harry asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“I have a gift,” Alice replied cryptically. “I see things. And I saw you coming.”

Harry didn’t respond, his mind whirling with questions. He felt the instinctual urge to raise his guard, but something in Alice’s expression stopped him.

“We don’t mean any harm,” she continued, as if reading his thoughts. “We just want to live quietly.”

Harry nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him. “Then we’ll stay out of each other’s way,” he said simply.

Alice’s smile was sad but understanding. “That’s probably for the best.”

As Harry walked away, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He didn’t know what the future held or how long he could maintain this delicate balance, but for now, he was content with letting the Cullens live their lives while he lived his. After all, they weren’t so different, in the end—just two groups of people trying to find their place in a world that didn’t quite understand them.

The next morning, Harry had barely finished his breakfast when he heard the excited chatter of Teddy from the front yard. Curious, he went to the window, and his eyes widened in shock. There, standing by the gate of his house, were two of the Cullens—Rosalie and Esme—each wearing warm, polite smiles as they listened to Teddy enthusiastically talk about his toys and the house.

“What the hell…” Harry muttered under his breath, storming out the front door. As he stepped outside, Hermione intercepted him with an apologetic expression.

"Before you get mad," Hermione started quickly, "let me explain."

"Explain what?" Harry snapped, gesturing toward the two vampires. "Why in Merlin’s name are there vampires on my doorstep?"

“It’s Teddy,” Hermione sighed. “He made friends with them. He was at the park yesterday, and Rosalie was there with Esme. You know how Teddy is—he’s so outgoing and friendly, he just started talking to them, and before I knew it, he invited them over to see his toys.”

Harry rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Hermione, you know how dangerous this is. We agreed to stay out of sight, to avoid the Cullens, and now they’re standing right in front of my house.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Are you really going to say no to Teddy when he’s this excited about making friends?”

Harry glanced over at Teddy, who was practically bouncing on his feet as he showed Rosalie his favorite toy car. The little boy’s face was lit up with joy, and in that moment, Harry felt his resolve waver. Teddy had grown up mostly around adults, with very few chances to make friends his own age—or in this case, friends who were simply willing to spend time with him. How could he take that happiness away?

With a resigned sigh, Harry muttered, “Fine. But just for today.”

Hermione grinned, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Harry grumbled, shooting another wary glance at the two vampires.

As he approached, Rosalie looked up, her golden eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him feel like she was peering into his very soul. “Thank you for letting us visit,” she said politely. Her voice was smooth, but Harry detected a note of curiosity lurking beneath her tone.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied tersely. “Teddy, be careful, alright?”

“I will,Dad!” Teddy called back, already dragging Rosalie toward the garden to show her his miniature Quidditch pitch. Esme, meanwhile, remained by the porch, her gaze wandering around the house with interest.

"You have a lovely home," Esme said, her tone genuinely appreciative. "It's very... cozy."

Harry crossed his arms, watching her carefully. "Thanks. I designed most of it myself."

"Did you now?" Esme's smile widened. "You must be quite skilled. I can tell a lot of care went into every detail."

Harry offered a curt nod, unwilling to engage in small talk. However, Esme seemed undeterred by his guardedness. “You must be very protective of Teddy,” she observed. “It’s clear he means the world to you.”

“He does,” Harry said simply, his eyes softening as he watched Teddy animatedly talk about how he was learning to fly. “He’s my son.”

Rosalie returned with Teddy just as Harry and Esme fell into a slightly awkward silence. She knelt beside the boy, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Teddy’s been telling us about all the adventures he wants to go on,” she said, her voice unusually warm. “He’s quite the storyteller.”

Teddy grinned up at Harry, his eyes sparkling. “Dad, can Rosalie and Esme come see the beach with me? Please?”

Harry hesitated, every instinct telling him to say no. But then he saw the hopeful look on Teddy’s face and the patient, almost wistful expression on Rosalie’s. He sighed. “Alright. But just for a little while.”

As Teddy dragged Rosalie toward the path leading to the beach, Esme turned to Harry with a thoughtful expression. “You’re not what we expected,” she said softly, her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

Harry frowned. “And what exactly were you expecting?”

“To be honest?” Esme’s smile was tinged with sadness. “Someone far more… afraid.”

“Why would I be afraid?” Harry challenged, though he already knew the answer.

“We can sense it,” Rosalie interjected, having heard the exchange as they walked ahead. “You’re not exactly human, are you?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And what gave you that impression?”

“The way you move, the way you watch us,” Rosalie replied. “You’re different, but we can’t quite place what you are. One of our family members is a mind reader, but he can’t read your thoughts. And Alice, who can see the future, can’t see yours. It’s like you’re outside of the natural order, and it’s… unsettling.”

Harry bit back a curse. He had always prided himself on staying under the radar, on blending in wherever he went. But these vampires were too perceptive, too aware. “Maybe I’m just good at hiding,” he said smoothly.

“Maybe,” Rosalie agreed, though her eyes flickered with doubt. “But that doesn’t explain the scent.”

“The scent?” Hermione asked, clearly intrigued despite herself.

“You smell… wolfish,” Rosalie admitted. “But not like the Quileute shapeshifters. Their scent is distinctly different. Yours is more… ancient.”

Harry clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to growl. “I’m not a threat to you.”

“We didn’t say you were,” Esme assured him gently. “We’re just curious. We’ve been around a long time, but we’ve never encountered someone like you.”

Harry took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “And you won’t encounter anyone like me again if you stay out of my business. Understood?”

For a moment, the air crackled with tension. Then, Esme nodded, her expression calm and respectful. “We understand. We mean you no harm, Harry.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a surprisingly calm manner. Teddy continued to chatter away, showing Rosalie and Esme every corner of the house and all his toys. By the time they were ready to leave, even Harry had to admit that the two vampires had been nothing but polite and respectful.

As they stood by the front gate, preparing to leave, Rosalie turned to Harry with a small, thoughtful smile. “You should know, Alice saw something else in her visions. She couldn’t see your future, but she saw flashes of the past—enough to know that you’re dangerous. But not to us.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that you’ve been through things, things that made you strong,” Rosalie replied. “Stronger than most humans—or vampires, for that matter.”

Harry said nothing, his eyes hardening. “You should leave.”

“We will,” Rosalie assured him. “But I hope you know that you’re not alone. We understand what it’s like to be different.”

With that, she turned and walked away with Esme, leaving Harry standing there with a thousand questions swirling in his mind. As the Cullens’ figures disappeared into the forest, Teddy ran up to Harry, tugging at his sleeve. “Dad, can they come back and play again?”

Harry looked down at Teddy, his heart aching with love and protectiveness. “We’ll see,” he said gently. “We’ll see.”

As he watched the sun set over the treetops, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that his life in Forks was about to become far more complicated than he had ever anticipated. And despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement.

After the Cullens left, Harry stood in the dimming light of the evening, lost in thought. The chill of the air had settled into his bones, but he barely noticed it. His mind replayed the conversations with Rosalie and Esme, and then something struck him—a detail he had nearly overlooked. The mention of the native American tribe nearby, the Quileutes, having shapeshifters.

"That can't be right," Harry muttered to himself, frowning. He had read plenty about magical creatures and beings, even shapeshifters, but never had he come across anything suggesting that Muggles—or anyone outside the wizarding world, for that matter—could transform into animals. He’d known about werewolves, Animagi, and other magical beings who could take on animal forms, but a whole tribe of Muggle shapeshifters? That was something entirely new.

He paced the length of the porch, feeling the rough wood beneath his feet as he tried to piece everything together. What troubled him even more was the fact that some of the workers in his factory came from that tribe. He had interacted with them, supervised them, and had even shared a few conversations over the past few months. Yet, never once did he sense anything supernatural about them. They seemed like ordinary people—albeit hardworking and dedicated.

"How did I miss this?" he murmured, frustration seeping into his voice. For someone who prided himself on staying aware of his surroundings, Harry couldn’t believe that he had overlooked something this significant.

He felt Hermione’s presence before he heard her approach. “Are you alright, Harry?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern. “You’ve been out here for a while.”

Harry looked at her, his expression tense. “The Quileutes… the Cullens mentioned they were shapeshifters.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Yes, they did. I thought that was odd too. There’s nothing in any of our books about Muggle shapeshifters.”

“That’s the thing,” Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve had people from that tribe working in my factory since we set up shop here. None of them ever struck me as anything but normal.”

“Maybe they’re hiding it?” Hermione suggested. “Or maybe it’s something they can control—something they only use when they need to.”

Harry considered this, nodding slowly. “It’s possible. But if that’s the case, then they’re better at hiding it than most magical beings I’ve met.” He paused, glancing toward the forest that separated his property from the rest of Forks. “I need to find out more.”

Hermione gave him a cautious look. “You’re not thinking of barging into their land and demanding answers, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Harry replied quickly. “But I can’t ignore this either. There’s something going on in this town, something beyond just vampires pretending to be human. If there are shapeshifters living this close, I need to know what they’re capable of.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, folding her arms. “You don’t think they’re a threat, do you?”

Harry shook his head. “No, not exactly. But if the supernatural world here is more complicated than I thought, I’d rather know what I’m dealing with sooner rather than later.”

Hermione’s expression softened, and she reached out to squeeze his arm. “You’ve been through so much, Harry. You don’t have to take on every mystery that comes your way, you know.”

Harry offered her a wry smile. “I know. But I’d rather be prepared. And besides,” he added with a hint of humor, “it’s not like I have a great track record of ignoring things that could potentially be dangerous.”

Hermione laughed softly, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Always,” Harry assured her.

That night, after Teddy was tucked in bed and Hermione had retired to her room, Harry stayed up late, poring over old books and records he’d brought with him from Britain. He searched for any mention of native tribes with supernatural abilities, any hint of a connection between Muggles and shapeshifting. There were a few vague references, old legends of ‘skinwalkers’ from different cultures around the world, but nothing concrete. Certainly nothing about the Quileutes.

“Why would they be different?” Harry muttered under his breath, frustration mounting. He pushed the books aside and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The pieces didn’t fit together, and it gnawed at him. He knew he was missing something, but without more information, there was no way to fill in the gaps.