Under the Cursed Moon - CH - 88

The warmth of the Black Mansion hit Lysara like a physical sensation—old, ancient warmth, not just from firelight or hearthstone, but from layers of intention. Magic hummed softly in the air, whispering through wards and charms woven so tightly that even Lysara’s sharp senses couldn’t find the ends of the thread.

She stepped inside with Teddy still at her side, the doors shutting silently behind them.

The hall was high and oak-paneled, with bookshelves flanking every corridor and soft lanterns floating overhead. A velvet runner traced the length of the foyer, muffling their footsteps. For a vampire used to shadows and silence, the house felt... alive.

Waiting for them in the drawing room were Harry and Hermione Black.

Harry stood with one hand tucked in his coat pocket, the other resting lightly on the edge of the mantel. Hermione sat beside a large mahogany table, parchment scrolls and old tomes half-rolled beside a cup of steaming mint tea. She rose at the sight of them.

“Welcome, Lysara,” Hermione said calmly. “We’re glad you accepted the invitation.”

“Thank you,” Lysara replied with equal calm. “I wasn’t sure I should come.”

“Teddy believes in you,” Harry said without a smile. “That means something in this house.”

Teddy cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “She’s cool. Just let her... settle in.”

Harry nodded once, motioning for Lysara to take a seat near the fireplace.

She sat, rigid but composed.

There was a pause. Then Harry stepped forward, his green eyes pinning her like daggers made of thought.

“I don’t know your past, and I’m not going to dig into it,” he began. “But I will say this only once.”

Lysara met his gaze.

“If you harm my son, even by accident, you won’t survive it. And I’m not talking about me.”

He glanced at Teddy. The boy stood beside the hearth, his face unreadable.

“Teddy is still learning what he is,” Harry continued. “But make no mistake—if he is provoked, he will tear you apart. And if he doesn’t... I will.”

Lysara didn’t flinch. “I understand.”

“I don’t make threats,” Harry said simply. “Just promises.”

Hermione rose then, brushing past the tension like sunlight through fog.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” she said with quiet grace, “you’re our guest. You’ll be treated with all the courtesy that implies.”

From a drawer beneath the tea service, Hermione withdrew a slender box wrapped in golden fabric. Inside, nestled like jewels, were blood pops—small, enchanted sweets filled with magically sustained animal blood, designed to satisfy hunger without the draw of scent.

“We give these to our Cullen friends when they need help adjusting,” Hermione said, offering the box.

Lysara blinked. “These are real?”

“Created especially for vampires,” Hermione said with a slight smile. “Now perfected.”

Lysara took one carefully, then another.

“It’s... effective,” she said after a moment. “It dulls the need.”

“We can offer more,” Hermione said, “if you agree to one thing.”

Lysara looked up.

“Don’t come near my son when you’re hungry,” Hermione said with absolute calm. “I have added passive scent wards to our home and to Teddy’s belongings. They’ll inform me immediately if your desire ever rises... too far.”

“I wouldn’t—” Lysara began.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Hermione interrupted. “But magic doesn’t lie.”

Teddy sat down across from Lysara, watching as she gently rolled the blood pop in her palm.

“I told you they weren’t scary,” he whispered.

Lysara smirked. “They’re terrifying. But polite.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “We heard that.”

“Of course you did,” she said under her breath.

For the first time in a very long while, Lysara felt something unfamiliar stir in her chest.

Not fear.

Not hunger.

Something... safer.

She didn’t say it aloud. But she felt it, nonetheless.

She was not just being tolerated. She was being watched—yes—but also welcomed.


The moon had risen over the Black Mansion, its silver light casting long shadows across the snowy trees. Inside his study, Harry Black sat beside the enchanted window, sipping a cup of spiced tea while reviewing old documents for a construction permit in northern Forks.

He barely glanced at the parchment when his thoughts turned elsewhere—to Lysara.

She had left the mansion just a few hours ago, and while she had said little on her way out, Harry could feel her mind buzzing with questions and half-formed thoughts. He didn’t dig deeper. He didn’t need to.

What mattered most was how Teddy looked at her.

And that was enough—for now.

He reached for the landline phone beside the lamp and dialed the Cullens’ secure number. It rang twice before a familiar voice picked up.

“Edward Cullen.”

“Edward. It’s Harry.”

A pause.

“Harry,” Edward replied. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m calling to give you a heads-up,” Harry said, settling back into his chair. “There’s a new vampire in Forks.”

A pause on the other end. The kind that signaled immediate alarm in Edward’s tone.

“I assume it’s the same one Sam mentioned earlier?” Edward asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied. “Name’s Lysara. Red eyes, obviously new to the area, but... she’s not hostile.”

“And how do you know that?” Edward asked, voice sharp but not accusatory. “Did you read her mind?”

Harry’s voice was calm. “No.”

“You didn’t?” Edward sounded surprised.

“I don’t read people’s minds unless I have to,” Harry said. “I believe in giving people the dignity of privacy, Edward—even vampires.”

Edward let out a slow breath. “But she’s befriended your son.”

“She has,” Harry said. “Teddy trusts her. And we’ve spoken with her. Hermione’s added safety enchantments around the house and Teddy’s belongings. If Lysara so much as feels hunger around him, we’ll know.”

“And you’re asking us to trust her.”

“I’m telling you not to attack her because of her eye color,” Harry said firmly. “That’s all. If she does something wrong, I’ll handle it.”

There was silence again.

“I don’t like this,” Edward said eventually.

Harry arched an eyebrow, even though Edward couldn’t see him. “I figured.”

“It’s not just her,” Edward said. “Riven, too. He’s different. He claims he wants to try our lifestyle, but... there’s something about him. Something guarded.”

“He attacked you?” Harry asked.

“No,” Edward replied. “But he’s hiding something. And now, Lysara appears days after he does?”

“You think they’re connected?” Harry asked.

Edward’s voice lowered. “I don’t believe in coincidence. New vampires—two of them—appearing in Forks after a century of peace? One at our house, one with yours?”

“You think it’s the Volturi?” Harry asked, more thoughtful now.

“I don’t know,” Edward said. “But I think we’re being watched. And I don’t think we’ve seen the last of it.”

Harry tapped his fingers against the armrest slowly.

“I appreciate the warning,” he said. “Keep an eye on Riven. I’ll keep an eye on Lysara. If either of them slips... we deal with it together.”

Edward agreed. “Together.”

Harry was about to hang up when Edward added one last note.

“Teddy… he’s growing into something powerful. That shift Sam mentioned? The way you look at him?”

Harry’s voice was soft. “He’s not a child anymore. But I’ll always be his shield.”

Edward’s voice was lower. “Let’s hope he doesn’t have to be ours.”

Click.


Inside the Black Mansion, Hermione was directing a house-elf to arrange the guest chamber on the eastern wing, dusting off furniture no one had used in years. Leah had fluffed the pillows and enchanted the windows to dim the morning sun. Teddy had picked a blanket—dark green with golden thread—because it reminded him of mossy forests and twilight skies.

“Are you sure she’ll stay here?” Hermione had asked her son gently as he bounded down the stairs two steps at a time.

“She agreed,” Teddy said, breathless. “She’s tired of sleeping in trees. I don’t want her alone anymore.”

Hermione gave him a long look. “Just remember, Teddy. Some people stay alone not because they have no place to go—but because they don’t feel safe anywhere else.”

“She’s safe with me,” he replied simply.

By midday, the soft crunch of tires over snow signaled the arrival of the Cullens.

A sleek silver SUV rolled to a gentle stop in front of the gates, and out stepped Edward, Bella, Renesmee, and Riven, who lingered a step behind them, observing the house with a mix of awe and calculation. Emmett and Rosalie remained behind, choosing not to overwhelm the visit.

Hermione greeted them at the door with her usual warmth, while Harry stood just behind her, arms crossed, a glint of thoughtfulness behind his emerald eyes.

Teddy came bounding into the entrance hall. “Nessie!” he cried, as Renesmee grinned and met him halfway.

Behind them, Lysara descended the staircase slowly, no longer dressed in the shadows of forest life but in a comfortable knit sweater Hermione had lent her. She walked with cautious grace, her red eyes dimmed, her hunger tempered by the blood pops she had accepted hesitantly the night before.

Edward’s gaze snapped to her the moment she came into view.

“Lysara,” he murmured.

She tilted her head but said nothing.

And then Edward turned slightly.

“Riven,” he said carefully, “do you know her?”

Riven’s brows lifted. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

Lysara’s eyes met his, unreadable. “Nor I.”

A pause lingered like a stretched string.

Harry broke the silence with quiet steel. “I don't think they know each other.”

Edward didn’t move. “Are you certain?”

“I am not completely sure,” Harry said. “But there’s no recognition. No rehearsed response. Whatever they are to us... they aren’t that to each other.”

Edward nodded slowly. “I had to be sure.”

With tension carefully smoothed over, the house warmed again with familiar sounds—muffled laughter, the light hum of Renesmee’s voice, and Teddy dragging her and Lysara to the eastern garden to show them the half-frozen fishpond and the enchanted icicles he’d charmed to twinkle like stars.

Inside, the adults gathered in the drawing room.

“She's sleeping here now?” Bella asked, glancing toward the upper floor.

“It's better than her building wooden perches in the snow,” Hermione said. “She’s adjusting. Not all vampires have had the luxury of family.”

“She feeds in Seattle,” Harry added, voice low. “She hasn’t touched a human here. I trust Teddy’s judgment.”

“More than I trust most immortals,” Edward said quietly.

Later, as the sun dipped low behind the trees, Edward and Harry stood briefly at the back porch, their words few but weighty.

“She’s still hiding something,” Edward said, eyes locked on the treeline where Lysara and Riven now stood awkwardly beside one another while Teddy animatedly explained the physics of magical snowball fights.

“They all are,” Harry replied. “But maybe the right kind of truth only comes when you give someone a place to be honest in.”

Edward looked at him. “And if you’re wrong?”

Harry gave a faint smile. “Then I’ll deal with it. But not before they’ve been given a chance.”


The snow in the eastern woods had begun to melt under the late winter sun, revealing damp earth and slick stones beneath the frost. Teddy darted ahead, leaping over tree roots with childish ease, his laughter echoing between the tall pines.

Lysara followed more slowly, her red eyes bright with curiosity as she tried to match Teddy’s enthusiasm. She didn’t understand why waterfalls, hollowed-out tree stumps, or a moss-covered swing mattered so much—but the boy’s joy was infectious.

Renesmee, however, trailed behind.

She wasn’t smiling.

It had started with small things—Teddy describing how Lysara once built her own sleeping perch on a pine branch, or how she could leap nearly twenty feet without losing her footing. Then it turned into Teddy calling her "cool" three times in one hour. That word stung more than she thought it would.

“Here’s the glade!” Teddy shouted, dragging Lysara past a veil of hanging vines. “This is where Nessie and I used to hide in summer. But you have to be careful—the pond’s frozen now.”

Lysara tilted her head. “You brought me to a secret place?”

“Well, yeah,” Teddy said. “You’re my friend now too.”

Renesmee stopped short, her boots crunching the snow behind them.

Used to hide.

Those words echoed louder than the bubbling stream nearby.

When Teddy turned around and waved at her, she forced a smile and walked forward. But her fingers curled slightly inside her gloves, and her heart thudded—not with joy, but something darker.

“You okay?” Teddy asked when she reached them.

“I’m fine,” she said too quickly.

She watched as he showed Lysara the little path of flat stones that led to the hollow stump they once used to leave enchanted notes for one another. That stump had been theirs.

Now, Lysara ran her fingers over it like it was some new discovery.

Renesmee folded her arms.

“So,” she said, forcing cheer into her voice, “how long are you staying here, Lysara?”

Lysara looked at her. “I’m not sure. Teddy said I could stay as long as I like.”

Renesmee’s smile froze.

“Of course he did,” she murmured.

As the sun began to set behind the trees, painting the sky in shades of gold and indigo, Teddy suggested they head back to the mansion.

Lysara walked beside him, her long stride nearly matching his bouncing pace. Renesmee followed silently, her boots dragging through the snow.

And as Teddy launched into another story about how Lysara once fought off three coyotes in a single night, Renesmee turned her head slightly and whispered into the wind.

“I hope you’re not replacing me.”

The forest didn’t answer.