Under the Cursed Moon - CH - 90

The wind howled around the Black Mansion as evening crept in, brushing snow against the windows and curling around the roof like a whisper of change. Inside, however, Teddy Black was storming down the corridor, fists clenched, boots echoing angrily against the floorboards.

He shoved open the door to his father’s study.

“I don’t care what they said—she’s not going!”

Harry Black looked up from his desk, his wand resting lazily between the pages of a runic diagram. He didn’t seem surprised. Not by the outburst, not by the expression on his son’s face. He calmly closed the book and set his quill aside.

“Teddy,” he said, “come sit.”

“I don’t want to sit!” Teddy snapped, pacing in front of the fireplace. “You said you’d protect the people I love. You said we’re family! How can you let them just take her away?”

“She’s not being taken,” Harry said calmly. “Her family’s relocating. It’s what vampires do. You know that.”

“I don’t care! She doesn’t want to go, and I don’t want her to go either!”

Harry waited a moment. Then, softly, “What do you want me to do?”

Teddy stopped pacing. “I want you to make them let her stay!”

Harry shook his head. “That’s not my choice to make. And it’s not yours either.”

Teddy’s lip trembled, and he looked away. “It’s not fair. Why does everything have to change?”

Harry stood up from the desk and walked to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re right. Change isn’t always fair. But sometimes it brings something better.”

Teddy scowled. “Like what?”

Harry leaned in slightly, his voice low and calm. “Like a Floo Network connection between here and Alaska.”

Teddy blinked.

“What?”

Harry’s mouth twitched into a knowing smile. “I already spoke with Edward. The Cullen estate in Alaska is surrounded by forest, built like a fortress. No neighbors. No prying eyes. That means no more hiding your speed. No more concealing your magic.”

Teddy’s breath caught.

“You mean... I could cast spells? Run at full speed? Climb trees in three seconds and not get grounded for it?”

Harry chuckled. “Exactly.”

“And Renesmee?”

“She’ll be waiting for you there.”

Teddy stared at him. “So I can go... anytime?”

Harry nodded. “Anytime you want. Day or night. You’ll have a fireplace here and one there. Just throw the powder, say the name, and step through.”

The anger began to melt from Teddy’s chest, slowly replaced by something warmer—relief, and something he hadn’t expected.

Excitement.

“But won’t they miss me here?” he asked.

“Of course,” Harry said. “But you won’t be gone. You’ll be connected to both places. Like a bridge.”

Teddy looked at the fireplace, now imagining it not as the end of a room—but as the beginning of a path.

A path straight to Renesmee.

A path to freedom.

Later that night, Teddy stood by the window, watching the first stars blink awake above the forest.

Behind him, Hermione and Harry were discussing protective enchantments for the Alaskan gate. Leah had offered to carve the runes herself.

Teddy smiled softly to himself.

He still hated the idea of her leaving.

But now—now he had something else.

Not just a promise.

But a way.


Forks had always been a quiet place.

A town where people waved from porches, remembered your birthday without Facebook reminders, and still showed up to bake sales with lemon bars and potato salad.

But in recent years, something had changed.

Since Harry and Hermione Black came to town—building a business, starting a festival, helping the hospital, and organizing wonders—Forks had bloomed. It had become alive in a way no one remembered.

And somewhere in the heart of that new life was the Cullen family.

No longer reclusive strangers with marble skin and mysterious eyes, they had—through Carlisle’s hospital work, Esme’s involvement with heritage preservation, Alice’s event help, and Edward’s quiet contribution to the library—become a part of the Forks community.

So when word spread that Carlisle Cullen had accepted a medical position in Alaska, it didn’t take long for the town to react.

They wanted to say goodbye properly.

Inside the warm-lit walls of Forks Town Hall, the place was buzzing with life. Banners were being hung, dishes being prepped, and folding chairs unfolded in careful rows. A small wooden stage stood at the front beneath a banner that read:

“GOOD LUCK TO THE CULLENS – FORKS WILL MISS YOU!”

Hermione stood near the stage, checking her clipboard, enchanted ink swirling as she directed volunteers with practiced ease.

“We’ll need three more tables for the food, and move the punch bowl away from the heaters or we’ll have stewed soda again,” she said firmly.

Harry leaned against the back wall, watching the bustle with quiet pride.

“Never thought this town would host a farewell party for vampires,” he said under his breath.

Mayor Halderman, passing by with a tray of forks (literal ones), chuckled. “Even though Cullens came to town recently they’re not outsiders. They’re locals.”

At the food court downtown, people whispered with a mix of sadness and admiration.

“I always knew Dr. Cullen wouldn’t stay forever,” said Mrs. Baines, the florist. “A man like that deserves a big city hospital.”

“My niece swears she saw Alice Cullen organizing books at the library with Mrs. Greene last week,” someone else said. “She said they were laughing like old friends.”

And, curiously, no one brought up the strange age gaps, the unchanging faces, or the endless graduation ceremonies.

Because Harry’s influence and quiet intervention, paired with Hermione’s magical potions that slightly masked otherworldly traits, had made the Cullens blend into Forks more than anyone had thought possible.

As volunteers bustled around, Edward approached Harry near the corner coffee table.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Edward said quietly.

Harry shrugged. “You didn’t have to become part of this town. But you did.”

Edward looked toward the crowd. “We were always careful. Always kept our heads down.”

Harry smiled faintly. “Maybe. But you still left your mark.”

“Is it wrong that it feels harder this time?”

“No,” Harry said. “Because it means it was real.”

Later that evening, the stage was full.

Carlisle stood at the podium, calm and gracious as always.

“Thank you,” he began, “for welcoming our family into yours. When we came to Forks, we thought we’d stay only a while. We never imagined we’d find something that felt like home.”

Applause echoed through the room.

“We’re heading north,” Carlisle continued, “to Alaska. There’s a clinic there that needs staff, and we believe it’s time to start fresh.”

Someone in the crowd called out, “You’ll be back for the next Forks Festival, right?”

Alice raised a hand from her seat and winked. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Laughter followed, and so did clapping, louder now, tinged with affection.

Backstage, Bella stood with Hermione.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” Bella said.

Hermione touched her arm gently. “It means you’re leaving something good.”

Bella smiled faintly, but her eyes searched the crowd for one face in particular.

Across the room, Teddy and Renesmee sat at a corner table. He was trying to make her laugh by stacking spoons into a tiny sculpture. She smiled, but her eyes were still heavy.

That night, Forks didn’t say goodbye with silence.

They said it with music, food, candles, laughter, and folded napkins that would hold stories for years.

And though the Cullens were leaving, Forks wasn’t really losing them.

Because in a town touched by both magic and immortality, distance was never as permanent as it seemed.


The town of Forks stood still as the Cullen family left.

Though the farewell party had been cheerful and kind, the actual day of departure was quiet. The community, respectful of the family's privacy, remained in their homes. Windows blinked with lights as a slow procession of black and silver vehicles made its way out of town.

In the lead car, Carlisle drove with Esme at his side. Behind them, Edward and Bella rode with Renesmee, who sat silently, eyes fixed on the foggy trees blurring past her window. Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett followed in a second car, their luggage—minimal and neat—packed tightly.

Forks vanished behind them like mist retreating into the forest.

They had left before sunrise, when the fog was thickest, when the quiet didn’t feel like abandonment—just distance.

They traveled without pause. Through Olympic National Park, across winding highways, north through British Columbia, and then deeper into the snowy expanse of southern Alaska. The cars didn’t stop for food. Or sleep. Only for fuel and the occasional refueling of the enchantments Hermione had laced into their tires.

Renesmee remained quiet for most of the trip. But Teddy had given her something before she left: a magically etched pendant, warm to the touch, that whispered little messages from him whenever she held it.

She pressed it to her ear often.

Sometimes she smiled.

Hours later—through mountains, snow, and shadows—they arrived.

The Cullen Estate in Alaska was nestled into the side of a thick pine valley, shielded from the wind by walls of ancient trees. The house was older, taller than their Forks home. Constructed of deep cedar and stone, with an overhanging slate roof and wide verandas, it looked like something plucked from a fairy tale and set quietly in a glacial dream.

Most importantly—no neighbors for miles.

Inside the house, Alice stood in the central atrium, a fire now crackling in the stone hearth.

She took out the silver coin Harry had enchanted—a temporary Portkey, keyed to his magical signature.

“I think it’s time,” she said softly.

With a whispered activation charm, the coin shimmered blue—and vanished.

Half a minute later, there was a sudden flash of emerald flame in the center of the fireplace.

And out stepped Harry Black, brushing soot from his robes with practiced ease.

“Bit colder here,” Harry said, surveying the room with a breath that fogged the air.

Bella chuckled. “It’s Alaska.”

“I expected at least one enchanted blanket waiting for me,” Harry smirked.

Edward stepped forward, and the two men exchanged a quiet, respectful nod.

“We’re ready,” Carlisle said. “And grateful.”

Harry walked toward the fireplace, removed a small, rune-marked satchel from inside his coat, and knelt.

“Let’s make this permanent,” he said, and drew his wand.

The ritual was elegant and powerful. Hermione’s runes, carved by hand, appeared around the stone hearth in glowing emerald. Harry chanted in low, steady tones, and placed one of the linked floo stones inside the ashbed.

Magic pulsed through the room—old, traveling magic—as the network bound itself to the one in Forks.

With a final spark of blue-green flame, the spell was sealed.

Harry stood.

“There,” he said, voice tinged with quiet satisfaction. “The Black Mansion and the Cullen Estate are now directly connected. Say the name, step through. One family to another.”

For a long moment, none of them spoke.

Then Alice, with a grin, clapped her hands. “I call first use!”

She took a small pinch of powder from the satchel, tossed it into the flames, and called out, “Black Mansion, Forks!”

The fire surged green—and then Alice vanished into it with a giggle.

Seconds later, her voice echoed back through the fire: “Works perfectly!”

Relief flooded the room.

Esme turned to Harry. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Harry looked around at them, at Renesmee, at Edward and Bella.

“I protect what I care about,” he said. “And I care about all of you.”

He stepped toward the hearth, took a pinch of his own powder, and turned back to them.

“I’ll be back soon—with blood pops, and a dozen more trinkets for your pantry. But until then...”

He tossed the powder in.

“Black Mansion, Forks.”

And with a swirl of flame—he was gone.

They stood in silence, watching the fire fade to normal again.

For the first time since leaving Forks, the Cullen estate felt like home.