~ ~ ~ Chapter Two ~ ~ ~

Thorfinn entered the small muggle café. He was impressed, actually at the true brilliance the little witch showed. She relied on her muggleborn instincts and had forsaken her own magic to disappear from the wizarding world all together.

Once he had her location figured out, he assessed the area she lived in. It was a small, community made up of mostly younger adults. University aged, and he knew that there was a small muggle institution nearby her flat, so he assumed that the girl would blend into the norm and he recalled that she loved to learn.

A quick imperious to the muggle secretary and he had Mia Gate's records, the name the witch had chosen as an alias. He memorized her schedule and waited until she exited her morning lecture. As she headed to the café across the way, he followed her. He waited outside for several minutes and when he was sure she was occupied with her homework entered the café and sat across from her.

She looked up immediately when he had settled and he noticed her complexion paled considerably and her eyes widened in fear. So she recognized him then, good. He had barely recognized her, without her mane of bushy frizz, she blended in quite nicely. It was a pity though because he had always liked her hair…

"Hello Princess," Thorfinn greeted her.

Hermione's thoughts were racing. Rowle was sitting right in front of her, did he send the packages? Was her time finally up? She wouldn't go without a fight, she'd play his game before she went with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure you have the right person," she began trying not to choke on her fear, "I don't know you."

Thorfinn was not amused. This was not the time for games. "Hermione," he warned testily. The witch stilled for a moment before shrugging and shaking her head.

"Nope, sorry. I'm Mia, Mia Gates, it's nice to meet you, mister?" she said evasively. He scowled.

"Hermione, I'm not in the mood for games. I need you to listen to me." He bit out in hushed tones.

To his immense displeasure he was interrupted before he could give Hermione his warning.

"Mia, is this guy bothering you?" the scrawny barista said. Thorfinn appraised the guy and really wondered at his bravery, the boy had no meat on him whatsoever and Thorfinn was well, a giant compared to the short skinny kid. Yet he came over to make sure Hermione, no Mia, was okay.

"Umm, no Tim. its fine really, I was just leaving." She said and packed up her things not wanting to risk her sometimes friend's safety if he even looked at Rowle the wrong way. Rowle was known for his temper. Maintain her façade of not knowing Rowle, she hurriedly gathered her belongs and retreated from the café. Once she was out the door she bolted.

Running as fast as she can she turned sharply but too soon, into a dark dead end alleyway.

Behind her she heard a familiar crack, and knew that she was cornered, without a wand she couldn't dissapparate herself, before her was a tall brick wall and behind her, the wizard blocked her only escape.

"Fucking shit on a Sunday." She muttered lowly to herself. Hermione was fucked. Knowing any attempts and running were now futile she turned to face Rowle.

The man lumbered over her, well over six feet tall, she felt tiny compared to her 5'4 frame. She expected sneers and hexes to be thrown at her, at the very least some taunts, but found instead that she was just picked up and thrown over the shoulder of the Viking like man.

Before she could even scream, she felt the sensation of being pulled through a tube, and when it passed surveyed her new surroundings.

It was her flat, wait, what?

"Princess, I'm going to set you down, and you are going to sit there willingly or I will put you in a body bind, do I make myself clear?"

She nodded her head, not realizing that he couldn't see her subtle movement. Not hearing a peep from the witch Thorfinn took her silence as consent, and set her on her feet before the chair. She sank into the chair, but didn't look at him. He didn't even need to use legilimency to hear her unspoken question.

What is going on?

"I don't have much time to explain things Hermione. All I can say is that you are in danger. How long have you been receiving gifts and how often do they arrive?"

"Why should you care?" The witch asked him bitterly, defying him. If he had time he would have smirked happy to spar with her, but as things stood he was getting impatient.

"Answer the bloody question and be quick about it." He growled out at her.

"Three months every Thursday." Hermione informed him.

"Fuck, why are you still here? Do you know who sends them?" He interrogated her. Hermione wanted to know just how he knew about the packages but saw the look on his face and realized it wasn't because he was sending them. For a second before his face morphed back into its blank state, she saw genuine concern. She chose to answer the question.

"I'm here because I need to be here, I have nowhere else to go. And If I knew who was sending them he'd be dead already."

"Fuck. You are not going to like this then princess. Walden Macnair." He said simply. Her face went completely white, and he thought she might pass out. It seems that she wasn't immune to the reputation of the older wizard.

"Oh no." She whispered.

"Yes, Macnair has decided to play a little game with you and when he gets bored of sending anonymous messages he intends to play with you in other ways. And share you between himself and Theodore Nott, Sr." Thorfinn grimly informed the girl before him. When he threw out the name of the second notoriously unpleasant wizard she fell from her chair unconscious.

"Fuck." He muttered he hadn't wanted to make her pass out. "Rennervate." He hissed and she sat up with a start.

"I suppose you are here to just give me to them then." She said.

'No you daft girl. I'm here to protect you!" Thorfinn exclaimed his patience gone, "Now pack a fucking bag so we can go."

"P pppr protect me?" Hermione stuttered her question out. Thorfinn raked his hands through his hair in exasperation with the witch.

"Good Gods girl, get a move on would you. Macnair certainly won't wait to barge through that door." He hollered and it seemed to make the girl jump to action.

Minutes later she had a bag packed. While she was throwing clothes and a few books into a bag, Thorfinn located her wand in a drawer, dusty from lack of use. He pocketed it, not trusting her with it yet, but wanting to return it to the witch at some point.

"Lets go." He clipped. Before grabbing her into a side along apparation.

Moments later they were in one of the guest suites of Rowle Mansion.

"Welcome home Princess. I suggest you make yourself comfortable, you'll be here awhile." He sneered at her.

Hermione ripped her arm away from the deatheater and straightened her posture. She wasn't going to let capture change her spirit.

"Fuck you Rowle." She spat.

Thorfinn chuckled darkly. "You wish, Princess. This will be you room. I'll let you get cleaned up, and then I'll explain things." He said and closed the door behind him, locking it. He didn't want the witch trying anything, he needed he where he knew exactly where she was.

Thorfinn made it to the library and cursed loudly. He hadn't thought this plan through at all. He had reacted rashly, as he was known to do, and he was screwed. He was a fucking lord and deatheater for merlin's sake. He was subject to random visits from the minister and other lords on a regular basis. And he had brought her here, what in the name of fuck had he been thinking?

He hadn't been. He has rushed to action, before stopping to think. Part of him still wondered why he even cared about her, he never liked her anyway. Despised her really, little bitch had almost ruined his life. But, his conscious knew why he had saved her. It didn't matter what they might have done, what she might have done, nobody deserved to fall into the hands of Macnair or Nott.

And he certainly wasn't about to let them get near his witch. Thorfinn swore under his breath again. Now he had gone and started thinking of the girl as his. He was royally fucked. What was he going to do?

He reached into the cabinet and poured himself a glass of fire whiskey.

Hermione stared nastily at the door. She had heard the click as he locked it and didn't bother to try opening it. It would have been futile.

She glanced around the room instead. She could have banged her fists against the door and screamed but she highly doubted it would have been effective. She decided not to act like a child and be mature about this. She could berate the arse later. The room was quite nice, it had a large bed, decent wardrobe space, not that she would ever be able to fill it, and even a nicely sized bathroom, with a gigantic tub.

Hermione didn't know the last time she had had a bath. It was long before she fought in the battle. She wanted to resist the luxury. She wanted answers. She wanted to know where she was and why Thorfinn had brought her here. What he planned to do with her, why he saved her. She was overwhelmed with her thoughts. She was Bewildered by her own actions, She had put her trust in Thorfinn Rowle, a man no, a deatheater who she had almost gotten expelled in her first year, his seventh. He threw out the names of two horrible wizards and she just threw caution to the wind? Good Godric what was wrong with her?

Ultimately the temptation was too strong to hold out, as Hermione's body tensed from the stress of the day and her thoughts put her brain in overdrive, she caved and began to run the taps for a bath. Answers could come later.

At any rate, she had known since the first gift arrived that her cover was blown. She should have run then, so if she did end up betrayed by Rowle it was only her own fault for being stubborn.

She might as well relax while she still could. Besides she was locked in the suite, it wasn't like she could just barge out and demand answers.