It turned out Harry didn't need Mortuus to create a situation where he got hurt, he was perfectly capable of simply falling into one as he always did.
Somethings just never seemed to change.
It had been stupid really and absolutely not his fault.
He'd popped over to the alley in Port Angeles on Saturday.
(He hadn't bothered with school on Friday, instead staying home to attempt to persuade Buckbeak to stop using his clothes as chew toys and go for Mortuus instead. Said embodiment of death had refused to leave, merely sipping muggle whiskey, saying various things that made no sense and rolling their eyes or smirking at Harry.)
He was just trying to find a deserted place to apparate home in when he heard an annoyingly familiar voice.
"Please just leave me alone." the voice of Bella Swan sounded very different when utterly terrified.
Harry had the unsettling realization that he might prefer it to her usual whining one, but hurriedly banished that thought. It wouldn't do to lose his humanity entirely.
"Shut it." came a very different tone from the area bland Bella's voice had come from.
Harry flattered his back to the wall and peered around the corner to see what exactly was going on.
Bella Swan, with tear stained cheeks and shaking hands was against the wall of a particularly dirty alleyway. A man, late twenties, was in front of her. He looked wholly unimpressive and not exactly threatening but Harry soon noticed the reason for the girls crying.
He was holding a knife.
A plain hunting knife, but still a knife.
Harry could acknowledge that most (average) teenagers would be a little more than unsure when faced with an armed mugger.
He hoped it was a mugger, a sudden shot of fierce anger went through Harry at the idea of the man wanting something more than money from a barely of age girl.
Mind made up Harry squared his shoulders and entered the alley, carelessly examining his nails.
The man turned and dumbly aimed the knife at Harry.
Harry glanced at the stunned man, flickered his gaze to an equally surprised Bella and back again.
"Get lost kid." threatened the man, sounding about as confident as Professor Quirrell.
"Don't think I will, if it's all the same to you." the man straightened his shoulders, trying to appear bigger.
Harry strolled carelessly closer to the pair.
"You'll get hurt trying to play hero kid." Harry couldn't avoid rolling his eyes at those words.
He continued his calm, steady pace forward. Aware that bland Bella was trying to signal him to leave in the 'go, save yourself' way that only a girl like her could.
"I mean it kid. I'll hurt you." Harry smirked, this thug really thought he could intimidate Harry? Really thought he was a threat?
He was an arms width away now and the clear lack of effect the threats had on him were obviously making the man sweat. He would have to act on those threats now, Harry readied himself.
"You asked for it kid." Harry's smirk spread into a grin.
The knife swooped out toward him, Harry was about to catch the wrist and effectively disarm the idiot when a thought struck him.
If he allowed himself to be hurt it would give him an excuse to meet the Cullen leader, he'd do everything in his power to avoid the hospital but perhaps he could seek a home visit. A home visit would give him the opportunity to observe the family, confirm his thoughts they were wholly uninteresting and not worth fighting.
It could be more beneficial to see them all.
Besides fate wanted to push him their way, might as well do it on his own terms.
Harry raised an arm to defend himself, allowing the knife to slice through his skin like butter. It wasn't a horrific wound, about 9 center-meters long from his outer wrist to the middle of his forearm. Harry could admit it did sting a bit, but comparing it to the concealed scars that littered his body it was barely a scratch. Deep enough to need stitches but not enough to make him pass out from blood loss.
That being said, blood was starting to leak rather rapidly from the cut. Harry bemoaned another good shirt lost, but swiftly moved on.
The man looked more in pain than Harry was and Bella had turned a strange green colour. Of course the vampire girl would be afraid of blood.
Harry, now with an effective excuse to meet the Cullen hierarchy, raised an uninjured fist and punched the mugger in the face.
The man staggered a few steps, groaning.
Harry's grin hadn't faded despite his bleeding arm.
He strode forward and placed another punch, this time to the mans stomach.
The man gave another groan and surprised Harry by punching back. Harry nose throbbed in reply, something thick oozing down his face. Harry opened his mouth to inhale, the metallic tang of blood was all too familiar on his tongue.
Harry, by now losing interest and patience, took hold of the mans shoulder. Swinging him round and slamming him into the wall, his head collided with said wall and he crumpled into a pile at Harry's feet.
Harry gave a satisfied sigh at the sight and set about detangling himself from the unconscious mans form.
Bland Bella's croaking gasp broke him out of his focus. She was a few hasty steps away from her original place, staring at the man with a stunned look.
"Do you have someone you can call?" he asked, aware that he was bleeding quite heavily from two places. She blinked at him dumbly, before taking a breath and nodding.
"I-yes. I can call Edward, I should call Charlie too." Harry didn't bother listening as she frantically spoke to first Edward and then to whoever Charlie was.
"They'll be here soon." She looked at him again, finally seeming to see he was bleeding. "Oh god, your arm."
She took a step toward him, shaky hands pulling his now folded sleeve tighter in an attempt to stem the blood flow. Harry felt oddly touched as well as surprised to see her trying to help him. Though he supposed he did help her out first.
"Do you have someone to call?" Harry nearly said Mortuus but quickly realized he didn't actually know their number or if they even had one so shook his head.
Bella looked annoying sympathetic and Harry felt his dislike for her creep back in.
"Edward will be here soon, he might be able to help with your arm. But you should really see Carlisle he's amazing at his job. Charlie, my dad, he's the police chief so he'll sort that guy out." Harry wondered why she was trying to comfort him but didn't really care enough to continue this line of thought.
"Bella!" came a voice Harry hadn't heard before. Both he and Bella turned to see a man dressed in police uniform approaching them, he was rather attractive for a middle aged man, with a thick mustache and a well built figure. This must be Charlie.
Edward followed closely behind, eyes dark in their anger at the threat to their mate. Or maybe because of Harry's blood, who knew.
"I'm okay dad, Harrison saved me." Harry rolled his eyes again and shifted uncomfortably at the intense eyes landing on him.
"You alright there son?" Harry almost got whiplash at the caring tone the man used. Charlie came close, examining Harry's face and arm with a frown. Then his eyes went to the collapsed man on the floor.
Charlie whistled.
"He got you good, but I'd say you gave it in return." Harry wasn't sure he'd ever met a better adjusted muggle father than Charlie.
"We better get you to a hospital." Harry's hackles immediately raised.
"No hospitals." he said firmly.
Charlies face, while sympathetic, twisted with discomfort.
"He can come to my house." offered Edward, Harry could've cheered at his plan (for once) working perfectly.
"Carlisle can fix him up." Charlie still looked unsure, but gave in.
Harry begrudgingly sat in the back of Edwards stupid car while Charlie took the unconscious man to the hospital, telling them he'd meet them at the Cullen's.
Harry ignored any and all attempt at conversation on the way to the mysterious Cullen home. They lived far out from town which was expected considering the circumstances.
Harry tried not to scrunch his nose in distaste when he saw the house itself. It was a horrifically modern thing, all black, white and unusual shapes that were meant to be 'thought provoking' but just looked like origami gone wrong.
Maybe Hogwarts had ruined Harry for the modern world but he would take drafty corridors, cosy fireplaces and ancient stone carvings over this failed art project any day.
The forest that surrounded it however was glorious, endless ever-greens that faded into blurs of hot and cold shades of green. Harry had had a complicated relationship with the colour green over the years, but a deep comforting sensation of longing and never being truly lost filled Harry as he stared at those trees.
Unfortunately he was not destined to travel through the forest today, instead allowing Edward Cullen to guide him up the ugly steps and into the ugly house.
A woman with light brown hair that flowed to her shoulders greeted them.
A seventh member?
"This is our Mother, Esme." Harry nodded vaguely to her, she had a mother hen look about her that he wasn't interested in.
"You poor dear, come this way. Jasper and Carlisle are in the study." disgust grew in Harry at anyone but Mrs Weasley calling him dear, but followed all the same.
Edward and Bella came along too, Harry continued to ignore them.
The house was huge inside too and far too clean for a family of that size. Honestly they were not doing a good job at pretending to be human.
Harry entered the study and felt the warm embrace of old furniture engulf him. A large desk, many over flowing bookshelves and various knick-knacks filled the room. Most interesting was the large painting behind the desk.
The three leaders of the Volturi along with -the blonde man that now stood next to Jasper who was obviously- Carlisle, dressed in 18th century clothing. Harry had seen similar paintings of them in his textbooks, but none with Carlisle.
Were they close with the Volturi?
But that didn't make sense, no Volturi member would be keen on the idea of drinking from animals.
Harry made sure not to linger on the painting too long and save his thoughts for later. It was hard to tell whether the vampires had noticed him focus on the painting but for now all he could do was hope they hadn't.
Carlise was the same shade of pale at the rest of his coven, with white blonde hair and clear smile lines around his eyes. He looked late twenties to early thirties, but still in the same ageless way that all vampires had.
"You must be Harrison, I'm sorry we had to meet in these circumstances. Please take a seat so I can take a look at that arm." Carlisle had a kind smile that screamed calm, family man but Harry knew this man was at least 300+ years old so stayed aware as he took the offered seat beside the bookshelf. Not bothering to reply to the rushed greeting
Esme, Bella and Edward left the room without a word, leaving Carlisle, Jasper and Harry alone.
Jasper seemed to hover anxiously over him while Carlisle looked at the torn arm, Harry didn't bother pretending to react when Carlisle touched the wound. Instead focusing on the mans eyes.
They remained a clear crystal gold the entire time. Fascinating.
"How long have you been a doctor?" asked Harry, unable to keep his amusement out of his eyes. Carlisle regarded him for a moment, calm smile still in place.
"Nearly 20 years now. Would you like to tell me how you got hurt today? It may help take your mind off the pain." he had changed the subject quickly, clearly not enjoying having to lie. Harry felt little to no pain but told the story anyway.
"Was coming back from shopping when I heard distressed voices. Found Bella with that man, thought I should intervene." Jasper snorted and shook his head at the dry tone Harry used.
Harry gave him a look and received a sweet smile in return.
Jasper seemed to be a ball of tightly wound anxiety as he watched Carlisle closely, but it didn't seem to be Harry's blood causing his feelings so what could it be?
Unless he was anxious that Harry had been hurt, but what sense did that make? They'd known each other what? A grand total of two weeks.
It was impossible to get so attached so quickly, unless...
Harry's thoughts broke of with a horrid idea.
Unless he was Jasper's mate.
But that had to be impossible, hadn't it?
Though perhaps it could explain the starring, the efforts to get to know him, the annoyance or even anger at his sibling and Bella for the way they spoke to him. The reason why Carlisle was currently letting him stay in the study right now as he fixed Harry up. The look on his face when he left the car park with a female fronting Mortuus.
No, he would not rationalize this now. It would wait until later, he was in the middle of a coven of vampires he could not afford to be distracted by ridiculous ideas like that now.
Carlisle's light chuckle brought him back to reality.
"A fighter I take it?" Harry shrugged, the 'you have no idea' was thought so loudly that Edward could probably hear him through his shields.
"I'm afraid you're going to need stitches." Harry already knew that "And then I'll clean up that nose of yours."
Jasper sat down in the chair next to Harry's, watching his father while he got his first aid kit out and began preparing to sew Harry back together.
"I do wish you'd called the police instead." mumbled Jasper from next to him. Harry snorted.
"Where's the fun in that?" Jasper gave a choked sort of laugh and bumped his knee against Harry's.
"it was rather reckless." joined Carlisle's voice. Harry held in a deeply sad smile at the familiar word being once again assigned to him after a fight.
"Always been that way." He muttered honestly, watching as Carlisle gave him an entirely unnecessary pain numbing injection.
Harry hated muggle medicine and would much rather charm the wound shut and force a few potions down his throat than sit through this but he supposed he was 'moving things along' as Mort had put it by being here.
"I'm glad you're okay though." came a very soft and sweet whisper from beside him. Harry sent Jasper a light smile it reply, hoping that was enough.
He turned back to watch Carlisle stitch up his arm, very aware of Jasper's heavy gaze on the side of his bloodied face.
And desperately wished he could have an epiphany without needing medical attention first.