Just a heads up, there will be a gap between this update and the next. I am going on vacation, and the computer is not coming with me

Song for this chapter: Renegade by Styx

HPOV

It took another half an hour for them to start shutting down the library. I stuffed my bag between the wall and a book shelf, and hid myself under one of the tables with a chair blocking the immediate view of me while the librarian did a quick walked through. Five minutes later the lights clicked off, and I was left sitting in almost complete darkness, broken only by the green light emanating from the exit signs on either side of the room.

I listened patiently for the sound that there was anyone in the library with me. When my ears were met with nothing but silence I deemed it safe enough to come out from under the table. My heart still hadn't quite slowed in my chest as I thought about how close I had come to falling into the hands of another wizard. I walked on shaky legs through the darkness to retrieve my bag from behind the book shelf.

I took the bag with me, and went to stand directly under the exit sign so I might have enough light to see something. I listened to the sound of my still slightly ragged breathing as I pawed through my bag pulling out a pair of jeans and my white striped long sleeve shirt. I quickly removed my waitressing outfit and pulled on more comfortable clothes. I wouldn't be needing the uniform anymore, I felt my way around in the darkness until I found a trash can where I deposited the stupid blue dress.

Then all I could do was wait for morning. So I held my bag close to my chest, and I sat on one of the chairs and rested my head on the table. My body was exhausted but there was no way I could sleep now. All I could think about what magic would mean for my life. Why now? Why him? Was he going to drag me back to the wizarding world? Which side was he really on anyway? Did sides even matter anymore? I didn't want anything to do with magic anymore whether it was good magic or bad magic. None of it was safe.

My heart rate gradually slowed to normal, but still I could not sleep. My mind raced and every creak of the old building was Snape swooping in on me to take me away to the wizarding world against my will. Once I listed toward the cusp of sleep and a vivid memory of the horribly painful walk to the car as I fled my house jarred me away from even the idea of sleep.

I had spent years completely repressing everything about that night, and now with just the sighting of a wizard things were starting to slip through the cracks. It was enough to make me scream. The last thing I needed to was starting screaming like a mad woman and draw people in to the library. And I certainly did need anyone looking in to my sanity as it was barely hanging by a thread. I would not soon forget, though I might try, the way the doctors had looked at me when I couldn't stop shaking and screaming in the hospital. They couldn't understand that the shaking was an after effect of the cruciatus curse, but it was probably pretty clear that the screaming was because they dared to touch me without giving me warning.

It was just over three years later, but I suddenly felt like that girl huddled up in a hospital bed terrified of the sound of her own breathing. With that thought suddenly I wasn't afraid. No I was angry. Who did he think he was anyway? Why was he showing up here and destroying the careful balance I had created in my life?

My anger carried me through the night, and let me remain alter enough to hear the morning staff coming. I hid under the table again, this time just keeping my bag with me. I waited patiently for the librarian to make a round, and then when she had settled on the ground floor I took a chance and came out of hiding. I waited around at the table for about an hour, and when I knew the coffee cart would be open I decided it was time to reveal that I was present in the library. I dug through my bag to find my wallet, and then I slung my bag somewhat awkwardly over my shoulder so if someone glanced at me, they might just assume it was a backpack.

I climbed up the stairs to the ground floor and bee-lined for the coffee cart. I hadn't eaten since the saltine crackers I had nibbled on before work, and with all of the running I was actually ravenously hungry for the first time I could remember in a long time. I bought a tall coffee and two scones from the tired girl running the cart, and retreated back to my bedroom of sorts down below.

It was morning, so I didn't have to worry about hiding anymore. Now it was more about seeming like I was supposed to be here. So I pulled my chemistry book out of my bag, and opened it in front of me while I sipped my coffee and devoured my scones. Honestly they were gone too soon but I tried not to think about it. I kept drinking my coffee, and stared at my book like I was reading it as I wondered how long I could stay here. How long I would have too more like it. Would he come looking? Or was I just over reacting?

When the coffee was gone I settled for actually reading my book. In part it was for something to do to while away the day until I had class, and partly because another person had come down into the stacks and I didn't want them to bother me. That was the nice thing about libraries, it didn't matter where you were there was a universal rule that you simply didn't disturb a person who had their head buried in a book.

I whiled away the hours until my class reading about the citric acid cycle. Without my permission my mind began to make connections between my chemistry lessons and some of the more theory based lessons I had sat on potions. I attempted to banish the thoughts, but they kept coming back. My mind was so frayed by the time that night came, I was seriously considering dropping the class altogether if it wasn't going to stop reminding me of the magical world.

When the time came I wearily gathered my things, and forced my duffle to masquerade as a back pack once more as I trudged out of the library. I could feel the tiredness in every limb of my body, but I groggily drug myself down the stairs that let out onto the path between the buildings. It was growing dark outside, but I could still see pretty well, and I kept my eyes peeled for a danger that I didn't really think would be there, but I was vigilant for none-the-less.

I made it a quarter of the way to the science building before I ran into a man. I managed to dodge to the side before I actually collided with him, but when I snapped my head to the side to say something rather nasty to him my voice died on my lips. The plain jeans and black t-shirt had mislead me, but the black hair and prominent nose were not so easy to hide. I gasped and backed further away from him, and then to my horror I seemed to cast some sort of unintended spell as he began to be forcefully pushed away from me by an invisible wind. I cried out in surprise and turned on my heel to run away.

"Wait Hermione," he called, his voice growing more distance as he was pushed further from me.

"No," I gasped, but it had nothing to do with his words.

My own body was betraying me and using magic. How could it be? I turned my back on him and I ran. I ran from him, and I ran from what I had just done. I was running blind, so terrified I didn't even know where I was going. My world dimmed down to the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, the feel of my bag hitting my back, and the air rasping through my lungs.

I ran for what seemed like hours, until my body simply wouldn't go any further. Night had fallen completely, and I wasn't in any neighborhood I recognized. I was actually in a much nicer part of London than I was used to. That had and upside and a downside. The upside being that I was much safer in regards to other muggles, but the downside was that I would be spotted rather quickly if I lingered anywhere for too long.

I couldn't stay in any business over night, and the parks were out of the question. There wasn't a bus station anywhere like the one I had stayed in before I had found the place with the boys. I got a sick feeling in my stomach when I realized what my last option was, and tried not to think about how unsafe it was while I started looking for alleyways.

I found one between a beauty parlor and a book store, and wandered into it when none of the people passing by on the street seemed to be paying much attention. There was a dumpster about halfway down and I decided that would have to do as a bit of cover from being discovered. I sat my bag on the ground beside it, and then I sat down upon my bag and curled my knees up to my chest. It wasn't exactly cold in London yet, but it wasn't warm this evening either, and I found myself wishing I had grabbed my jacket before abandoning the apartment. At the time it had seemed stupid because of how much room it would have taken up in my bag. Only now did it occur to me that I could have put it on and thus not had to worry about how much space it was taking up.

I spent the night rubbing my hands over my arms to try and stay warm, and watching the alley around me. My eyes burned with tiredness, but I couldn't allow myself to sleep, not when I was this exposed. My body knew it needed to rest, having been up far longer than 24 hours, but my mind could not relax. So I watched, and I waited, and eventually the sun did rise. I waited a bit longer, until I started to hear the first cars whipping by in the street.

Then I climbed stiffly up from my post, and put my bag on my back once more. I walked back down the alley, and tried to look casual as I turned out onto the street. There were only a few people walking about this early but no one seemed to have noticed where I had come from so I breathed a tiny sigh of relief and made my way up the street looking for a branch of my bank. I had formulated a plan overnight, and it was going to take quite a bit of the money I had been able to save up from work.

By the time I actually found a branch of Barclays it was late enough in the morning for them to be open. I put on my most professional face, glad that the only scar showing today was the one on my face that was impossible to hide anyway. I walked up to the female teller nearest the door.

"Good morning miss, what can I do for you today?" she asked me in a far too chipper voice.

"I would like to withdraw all of my funds and shut down my account," I answered plainly.

"Is there something we could do to make your experience with Barclays more pleasurable?" she asked, clearly against the idea of shutting down the account.

"Oh you are a fine establishment," I assured her airily. "I'm leaving the country, and I intend to open an account with a local bank."

"We could transfer your funds for you," she suggested. "Travelling with large amounts of money isn't very safe."

"When you see how little money I have you will be less worried," I chuckled at her. "I need to be getting to the train station so if we could…"

I let it hang, but she jumped right to business assuming by my briskness that I was upset. I didn't have it in me to get upset about the goings on at a bank. In the grand scheme of things, what did it matter if a teller was trying to talk me out of something? It's not as if she was a dark wizard trying to track me down, now was she?

Soon I had all of the money to my name in my possession, and I quickly added it to my wallet before slipping my wallet back into my bag and making my way out of the bank. It would have been quicker to get to the train station if I took a cab, but I needed to conserve my money. So once again I hoofed it across town.

It took ages. My feet hurt, and I was so dreadfully tired I thought I might retch. But eventually I did get there. I checked the boards looking for the next leaving train, and I was surprised to discover it was the chunnel. Out of the country in one easy step, and I had just been lying at the bank. I found a ticket gate, and purchased a seat on the chunnel that was leaving in five minutes.

I ran through the station ignoring the angry looks I got from travelers I may have hit with my bag as I flew by. I caught up to the train just as they were preparing to close the doors. I hastily handed over my ticket to the man at the door, taking my stub and going to find somewhere to sit. It wasn't until the train was moving, and I was settled into a seat with my bag in my lap that I looked at my stub to see where it was I was going to. Calais, France. Well at least I can speak French.

I did a quick scan of the other people on the train, and when I saw that they were all either old or mothers with children I felt marginally safer. I didn't see any dark haired wizards anywhere, so I breathed a little easier. And as the train built up speed I finally allowed myself to drift off into an uneasy sleep.