Under the Cursed Moon - CH - 80

The Volturi leaders—Aro, Marcus, and Caius—along with their most loyal guards, moved silently through the snow-laden woods, their footsteps soundless despite the thick layer of frost. The night air was bitterly cold, and the dense forest seemed to close in around them as they left Forks behind.

Aro remained at the front, his elegant black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. Marcus followed at his side, his expression as unreadable as ever, while Caius stalked behind them, his hands clenched into tight fists. Jane and Alec, along with the remaining guards, trailed at the back, unusually subdued.

There was no conversation.
No speculation.
Only the suffocating weight of defeat.

Aro’s mind churned, replaying the scene over and over. The way Harry Potter had appeared—calm, confident, fearless. The way he had stood against them without so much as a flicker of doubt.

Most of the younger guards, and even some of the Volturi’s allied vampires, could not understand why Aro had so quickly agreed to retreat. They whispered amongst themselves, questioning their leaders’ decision, unsure of how one wizard could incite such terror.

Caius could take it no longer. His frustration boiled over, and he rounded on Aro, voice low but seething.
“How can you just walk away? We came here to enforce the law. We should have crushed the Cullens—taken the girl! Why does one mortal wizard scare you so much?”

Aro halted and slowly turned, his crimson eyes glinting in the dark.
“You did not see him… in his element,” Aro said softly. “You did not see what he did to the legions of vampires who sided with the Dark Lady. I did. I watched it happen.”

He paused, recalling a memory that made his ancient bones feel heavier.
“Fighting wizards is usually… trivial. Even powerful ones. They are slow, and spells are easily evaded. But Potter… he does not fight like a wizard. He fights like a beast, with speed and ferocity that rival our own. He does not just cast spells. He weaves magic through his very movements, like an extension of his body. He is faster than our best fighters. Stronger. And his magic… it can tear through flesh and bone, even ours.”

Jane’s eyes widened, doubt creeping into her cruel features.
“But… he’s human. How can he—”

Aro shook his head.
“Human, yes. But more than human. He is… a force. One that can tear through vampire ranks as if they are made of paper. I saw him bring down three covens with a wave of his hand, barely breaking a sweat.”

Marcus finally spoke, his voice slow and distant.
“He did not just defeat us. He allowed us to live. Because he knew… without the Volturi, the entire vampire world would fall into chaos. He spared us out of pity.”

That admission made Jane and Alec exchange uneasy glances. It was not often that Marcus spoke so openly.

Caius remained stubborn.
“We could still find a way to kill him. Bide our time, learn his weaknesses.”

Aro smiled faintly, though it was a bitter smile.
“Patience, Caius. One day, Potter will die. He may be faster than us, stronger, but he is still mortal. Time is on our side. Wizards grow old and frail. Vampires… endure.”

The guards nodded, finally understanding. Their time would come—just not today. They would wait.

Once Harry Potter and his family grew old and died, the Cullens would be defenseless. Then, and only then, would the Volturi return to claim Renesmee and reassert their dominance.

Until then, they would disappear. They would plot. They would watch.

As the Volturi traveled further from Forks, the whispers among their followers grew.

“How could one man…?”
“He must have used some kind of dark magic…”
“No… Aro wouldn’t lie. He’s seen it himself.”
“If that man fought the Vampires and survived, maybe… maybe he’s not human at all.”

Aro heard the whispers but did not silence them. Let them speculate. Let them wonder.

The reality was that Harry Potter was an enigma even Aro could not fully comprehend. But he knew this:

Crossing Harry Potter again would mean the end of the Volturi.

So they would wait. And they would plan.

Because someday, time would take care of their greatest threat.
And when that day came, the Volturi would return.

The Cullen household was slowly returning to a state of calm. The tension that had clung to every wall, every creak of the wooden floor, was finally dissipating.

The visiting vampires, who had gathered from every corner of the world, were beginning to say their goodbyes. Some lingered in the main hall, discussing the events of the day in hushed, excited voices, while others gathered outside, the snow still clinging to their cloaks as they prepared to leave.

Carlisle stood at the door, offering kind words and heartfelt thanks to each guest. He understood that most of them hadn’t come just to witness—they had come to fight. They had been prepared to stand against the Volturi, risking their lives for the truth.

But instead of battle, they had encountered something far more unfathomable.

As Eleazar from the Denali coven approached, he glanced back at the other departing vampires, his expression thoughtful.
“Well, Carlisle,” he began, “it seems the Cullens aren’t the only ones with secrets anymore.”

Carlisle managed a tired smile. “Yes, it appears we all have a lot to think about.”

Eleazar chuckled softly. “You know, most of us didn’t expect to leave here alive. We came to fight the Volturi, to protect you. But now…” He looked over his shoulder again. “They’re leaving with more questions than answers.”

Carlisle nodded. “Harry has that effect on people. Even after all these years, I still don’t fully understand his past.”

From the hallway, Kate called to Eleazar, gesturing for him to hurry. He gave Carlisle a respectful nod before stepping out into the snow.

The remaining guests were more hesitant to leave.

Garrett, the adventurous nomad, approached Emmett, looking slightly annoyed.
“So… you guys just have access to all that? The blood-pops, the replenishing potions? I saw some of the Volturi guards nearly licking the bottles clean.”

Emmett grinned. “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome. Hermione brews them specifically for us. Helps us keep the peace around here.”

Garrett frowned. “You think he’d be willing to share? I mean, that potion that makes you feel human—that’s unheard of. Hell, I’d pay for that.”

Rosalie raised an eyebrow. “Good luck. Harry doesn’t do business with strangers. If he doesn’t trust you, you don’t get a thing.”

Garrett scowled. “Figures. The guy’s a living legend, and he just vanishes when things settle down. You’d think he’d want to connect with more of us.”

Alice, breezing past with a stack of cleaned dishes, glanced over her shoulder.
“Harry’s never been interested in being popular. He cares about his family and his own peace. That’s it.”

Garrett sighed. “Wish I’d known about him sooner. Maybe I’d have reconsidered some of the fights I’ve picked over the years.”

Out on the porch, a group of younger vampires lingered, whispering among themselves. They hadn’t been in Britain during the wizarding war, so most of them hadn’t known about Harry Potter until today.

One of them, a wiry man named Dmitri, shook his head.
“I always thought wizards were just… you know, normal humans with a few tricks. But if what Aro said is true, that Potter guy isn’t just a wizard. He’s something else entirely.”

Another vampire, Irena, nodded. “It’s not just his power. It’s the way Aro looked at him. Like he was looking at death itself.”

“I didn’t think vampires could be afraid,” Dmitri whispered.

When the last of the visitors had left, Carlisle closed the door and turned back to his family.
“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “that was… an experience.”

Esme smiled softly. “I’m just glad it didn’t come to fighting.”

Edward, leaning against the staircase, nodded.
“They’ll talk. Word will spread. The vampire world won’t be the same after today.”

Jasper crossed his arms. “Some of them are already considering seeking Harry out. They think they can gain his favor—or at least, access to the potions.”

Alice smirked. “Good luck with that. Harry doesn’t care about popularity. And he’s definitely not going to open a potion shop.”

Jacob, who had been sitting on the floor, snorted. “Those leeches have no idea what they’re dealing with. Harry’s not the type to just make friends because someone’s curious. They’d probably end up on the wrong side of his wand.”

As the night grew quieter, the Cullens gathered in the living room, reflecting on how close they had come to disaster. Carlisle looked out the window, where the snow had begun to fall again, blanketing the forest in silence.

“We’ve faced the Volturi before,” he murmured, “but never like this. They’ll be back one day. Maybe not for Renesmee, but for something else. Something they can’t resist.”

Edward glanced at him. “Power.”

Carlisle nodded. “Harry represents something they can’t understand. Something stronger than their authority. That’s what they’ll come for next.”

Emmett cracked his knuckles. “Let them try. If they mess with us again, we’ll just have Harry scare the pants off them one more time.”

Jacob grinned. “Or maybe Teddy. That kid’s gonna be a powerhouse one day.”

Esme placed a gentle hand on Carlisle’s shoulder. “For now, we have peace. And that’s enough.”

As the house settled into a rare, quiet evening, the Cullens knew one thing for sure:
The world now knew that Harry Potter was more than just a legend.
And that knowledge would change everything.


The snow had finally begun to melt, giving way to the soft, rich earth underneath. Birds were chirping, and the first hints of green buds appeared on the trees. Spring was inching closer, and with it came the most anticipated event in Forks:

The Forks Annual Festival.

What had started as a simple baseball tournament organized by the Blacks had, over the years, grown into a full-blown town festival. It now included food stalls, live music, craft competitions, and even a surfing competition.

The festival was no longer just a town gathering; it had become a state-wide celebration, and the locals had formed their own Festival Council to manage it. Last year, with Harry and Hermione away, the council had taken the reins, and the festival had still thrived. But this year—Harry, Hermione, Teddy, and even Luna were home—and that meant everyone expected something extraordinary.

The large dining room table was covered with maps, blueprints, and lists. A few members of the Forks Festival Council sat around it, along with Harry, Hermione, and Teddy—who was enthusiastically drawing ideas on a spare parchment.

Mayor Scott Halvorsen, a burly man with a booming laugh, slapped his palm on the table.
“Well, last year’s festival was a hit, no doubt,” he said, grinning. “But people are saying it wasn’t quite the same without you, Harry.”

Harry smiled, slightly embarrassed. “The council did a great job. I heard the tournament was a blast.”

Hermione nodded. “We’re here now, and we want to help. Anything you need, just let us know.”

Teddy piped up from the end of the table. “Can we have a bonfire this year? With marshmallows and stories?”

Scott chuckled. “That’s a good idea, lad. We could set up the fire pit near the community center. Make it a proper storytelling circle.”

Harry grinned. “We could enchant some of the lanterns to give the fire different colors. Safe, of course.”

Luna, lounging in the window seat, added in her airy tone, “Maybe we could have a scavenger hunt. Nothing too difficult, but it would make the children happy.”

Hermione smiled. “That’s a lovely idea. We can buy some simple trinkets and hide them around town.”

Jacob, who had arrived late after his morning run, plopped down beside Harry.
“So, who’s organizing the baseball tournament this year?” he asked.

Scott scratched his beard. “The Tornadoes won last year, so they’re hosting. We figured we’d have the champions’ game on the final day, but we need more teams.”

Carlisle arrived at the mansion later in the day, offering to help organize the medical station for minor injuries, while Esme volunteered to manage the food stalls. Rosalie suggested setting up a car display, showing off some of the classic cars she’d been restoring.

Alice was ecstatic at the idea of planning the decorations, and Jasper took charge of organizing a small self-defense demonstration—just in case anyone got curious about their supernatural abilities.

By evening, the plans were set. The entire town was buzzing with anticipation, and the council left feeling confident that this year’s festival would be the best yet.

As the house settled down, Harry found himself alone on the porch, staring at the darkening sky.

Hermione joined him, a warm mug of tea in hand.
“You’re really making this place feel like home,” she said, leaning against him.

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not just me. It’s everyone. Forks… it’s become more than just a place to hide. It’s our place now.”

Hermione smiled, content. “And it’ll be even better when the festival is in full swing. You know Teddy’s planning to put on a magic show with Luna.”

Harry laughed softly. “Should we be worried?”

“Maybe just a little.”