Refer to chapter one for disclaimer.

I have alot of notes at the end... but for now, please enjoy the chapter!

"I don't believe you," Marianne jested as they waited in the dim hallway of the quiet Leaky Cauldron. The only sound that could be heard was that of the weary bartender, who was lazily staking glasses downstairs.

"I promise they don't mind at all. Ron might complain about having to switch hotels, but deep down he loves the adventure," Harry lied. He was quiet certain that Ron may never fully warm to Marianne, simply because she disturbed this one nights sleep.

As Harry gazed down at the beautiful woman before him, he felt her hand discreetly entwine with his. Though the touch was simple, it was intoxicating.

Hermione and Ron opened the door a minute later, their bags at their sides and their eyes still a little hazy from sleep. They were surprised to say the least to find their best friend standing so close to this stunning stranger, their hands locked behind their backs in an attempt at being inconspicuous.

"Hermione and Ron, this is Marianne," he introduced, "Marianne these are my best friends Hermione and Ron, they just returned from their honeymoon."

Marianne smiled brightly and curtsied in a perfectly rehearsed manner, without ever moving from her secure position next to Harry, "It's wonderful to meet you both, and congratulations."

Ron's shocked expression was unmistakable as he stood just a few inches behind his wife, it was nothing less than the possessed look of wonder he once had when looking a Fleur Delacour. Ron was still working on controlling himself around beautiful women.

It was incredible, Harry reflected, how well pulled together and alert Hermione could be at this time of night. "It's wonderful to meet you as well" she exclaimed, nudging Ron in the side, it was apparent that his dead stare had not escaped her notice. He immediately forced his features into nothing more than annoyed approval and tired indifference.

"I am so excited to have another girl traveling with us. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to travel alone with two men?"

Marianne giggled brightly, and looked sideways at Harry. "I can only imagine."

So, are we going to apparate?" Hermione asked.

"I think so," Harry answered as he looked down at the woman beside him. "Is that alright with you, I know it was jolting the last time."

'Anything to be as close to you as I was before,' she thought to herself guiltily. "I think I'll do alright."

"Well than that's settled then," Harry sighed, relieved to have another excuse to hold her so closely.

Muggle London was beautiful; Harry never remembered the city so quiet. The long street, softly dusted with dim lamp light was eerie, yet stunning.

Ron and Hermione had gone ahead and checked into the hotel room. Nothing was fast enough for Ron who was still mourning his lost sleep. Harry tried to reassure him that there would be plenty of time to sleep in, and that they had nothing planned for the morning, but nothing could convince the fuming redhead.

And with one more stolen glance at Marianne, he hauling his wife down the street where the small but respectable hotel sat buried in east London.

Now, as the moon took its final bow, and Harry could smell morning approaching, two lone figures walked slowly down the quiet streets, feeling happier and safer than they had ever before.

"I really like Hermione," Marianne said sweetly. "I don't have many friends. She seems so confident; she must have many friends from where you come from."

Harry laughed deeply; he never thought he'd hear Hermione described as particularly popular. "Well, lots of people know her, but she's usually friendlier with her books than with society."

"Why was that funny," she poked, feeling guilty once again that she was intruding on such a close friendship, a friendship where the three seemed to know everything about each other. "Oh heavens, I can't get over how awkward I feel sometimes." She whispered meekly.

"Why should you feel awkward?"

"Oh I don't know, you say you want me here, but I've never been good at deciphering true feelings. I can't imagine why you would want me in your way."

She stopped walking and stood next to a thin tree. She looked at him sternly; her feelings were not going get in the way of her getting the answers she sought.

"I refuse to be a nuisance, and no matter how hard I try to talk myself out of it, I just cannot get past the idea that I'm interrupting. You must have something very important to do here Harry." She sighed and looked to her feet, "I'm afraid I have to be blunt. I trust you, but I'm not so naive as to not see that there is something strange about this whole situation."

It occurred to Harry that he was not in the fairy tale circumstance he had hoped to face. She was intelligent and confident. She knew there was more than met they eye, and unless he found a plausible way to reassure her, he might be forced to let her go sooner than he was ready.

"I want you to tell me the truth; I want to know exactly why you are here Harry. Why you and your friends are in England… and why you were wandering around the forests surrounding my property." She added as if the idea had suddenly occurred to her.

It was now or never. Harry opened his mouth and prayed that whatever came spilling out would be the right response. Everything depended on it. He had an idea, something he had been tumbling around in the dark corners of his mind, but it was risky. However, if delivered correctly, it could be to his great advantage.

Harry smiled. "Promise you wont be angry about what I'm about to tell you." He said softly.

"That depends," she answered sternly. She suddenly shifted backwards as if she craved her personal space.

"Hermione works for a wizarding newspaper, in Boston."

"Are you saying your Americans?" she asked lightly, "You don't speak like Americans."

"Were not American's," Harry jested, "we moved there about five years ago, Hermione writes for the paper and Ron teaches flying at-"

"The Bridget Bishop School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" she asked smirking. "It's a fine school, the best in the states.

"Yes," Harry smiled, "Ron likes it very much." Harry crossed his fingers, it would be disastrous is any of this information was checked out, for they would find a newspaper that does not employ a Hermione Weasley, and a baffled American headmaster who has certainly never heard of Ronald. Everything was a gamble.

"Why should any of this make me angry," she asked, "those are both very honorable professions."

"Yes, but it's what I do," Harry cut in, "I also write for the newspaper. I write a political column." Marianne looked up at him sharply. This could get ugly if he wasn't careful.

"My boss told me that the minister of magic in England might make an interesting story." He paused. "He wanted me to write something, but seeing as how I know nothing about him he decided to let me make a holiday of it, with Hermione and Ron. Hermione is up for a vacation herself… I'm supposed to enjoy myself and come back with a story." Harry smiled nervously and sighed, a0waiting the cruel assumptions that were sure to come.

"Are you saying you're using me?" she asked quietly, a painful edge to her soft voice.

"Marianne I know nothing of you or your father, and to be honest I could care less about this story, it means nothing to me. I told him I would do it, most for the holiday, Ron and I were talking about coming back to London for awhile now anyway. To be honest, I was planning on writing a false interview as it was. I've done it before. As long as I write nothing but good praise, not a single politician will call me on the lie."

Harry put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight timidly.

"I was afraid to tell you. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd come with me anyway at first. And I guess that once you did that you would think just this, that I'm using you." He paused and looked at her sincerely, "It was wrong of me to lie, forgive me."

Marianne's stillness was unreadable; nothing in her normally translucent features gave away any hint of her feelings.

"Do you promise me that you didn't know who I was when you found me?" She asked matter of factly.

"No," Harry answered truthfully for the first time that night. He was beginning to fear the string of lies he told.

"Do you swear that you intend to do me no harm?"

"Of course not."

Marianne looked him over once and exhaled, "tell me why you were in that forest, and then tell me again why you're risking your career by kidnapping the minister's daughter," the last comment bringing a playful smile to her lips, a smile that lightened the pressure on Harry's clutched gut.

She had fallen for it, and hopefully respected and trusted him even more in exchange. To blindly trust a mysterious stranger is something for story books. Such romantic tendencies didn't last long in real life. Common sense always took over, whether for better or worse.

"I had found your house earlier that evening, right after we arrived and checked in to the hotel at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron, Hermione and I went to Hogsmeade for a late dinner and took a walk around the property. I was talking about trying to get an interview in the morning. Ron wanted to go to the hotel to sleep, and I wanted to get some more air, so I took a long walk through the trees. That's where I found you." She smiled.

"And to answer your last question," Harry said almost seductively, taking a step closer to Marianne. "My job isn't that great as it is. And it wouldn't have mattered if you were the poor daughter of a stable keeper, I would have still helped you run away. Why would I give up the chance to give a beautiful woman the adventure of a lifetime? You seem to be in great need of on."

Marianne bit her lip and beamed, all was most certainly forgiven. Her eyes were brighter than he had ever seen them.

Harry looked to his right where the sun was just beginning to peak over the top of London's shortest buildings. "Look it's almost morning; I really should get you a room. You need some sleep," he told her, his eyes focusing on her bright face, so beautiful in the morning sunlight.

She nodded happily and took his hand. "Alright, but you better get me a suite because I am unfortunately not the daughter of a stable keeper," she joked, "I am used to very fine things."

"Anything for you my lady."

Harry walked Marianne down the wood lined hallway of the quiet hotel; her room was at the end right next to his.

"You'll be alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine, I could use some time without servants bustling around me anyway." She said sweetly, fingering a gentle locket that hung around her neck.

"That lovely," Harry commented glancing at the double gold chain.

"Oh, thank you, it used to be my mothers, my father gave it to her when they were married, he would always make her wear it. He thought it was beautiful on her too." She paused for a moment than with a sly smile; she reached around her neck and unhooked one of the chains, letting half the locket separate from its partner.

"Here," she said re-hooking the clasp. "I give you half."

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she laid the chain in his hand. The metal felt delicate and precious, just like her. He didn't deserve such a gift. "Marianne, this is an heirloom, you shouldn't give it to me, and it should go to someone special."

She smiled and leaned up on her toes kissing him quickly on the cheek, her movement like those of a flirtatious child.

"You are special," she told him quietly, "…more than special." And with that she turned around and disappeared through the door.

As Harry entered his own small hotel room, he could still feel her lips on his skin.

The next morning came and went, without one of the four ever leaving their restful beds. It wasn't until well after noon that Harry awoke and stretched, ready to start his day, their day.

Harry quickly brushed his teeth and showered. He was dressed and presentable in no time at all. Surely Marianne would be awake by now, and famished no less. Harry couldn't believe he had slept so long.

He emerged into the well light hallway and looked towards Marianne's closed door. He wasn't sure if he should knock, but he assumed she would appreciate it if she was awake and waiting for someone to come for her.

Walking to the door, Harry knocked softly.

After a moment or two he knocked again, a little louder.

Harry smirked, she was probably sleeping. Though that was unlikely, it was common for Harry to oversleep everyone else, not the other way around.

Suddenly feeling very nervous, Harry had the horrible feeling that she might not be in the room at all. His fears were probably juvenile and even a little obsessive, but he didn't care.

He knocked loud this time, very loud, too loud to be slept through.

And yet, nothing, not even a peep could be heard.

Reaching out he wiggled the door knob. It was locked. He could unlock it simple enough and just peak in. If she was sleeping than the intrusion wouldn't wake her, not if she had slept through the earth shattering knocks.

Harry pointed his wand at the brass doorknob. "Alohamora."

Opening the door carefully, so it wouldn't squeak, Harry stepped through and looked to the bed.

Swinging the door open frantically he rushed through.

The bed was slept in and unmade, but she was not in it. Frantically he ran to the other side of the room where he found the bathroom door open and the inside dark and empty.

She was not here. At first a terrible sinking feeling of being deserted washed over him. She had changed her mind, come to her senses. She didn't trust him like she said; she wanted to be rid of him.

But it was what Harry saw next that startled him the most. Her clothes were lying casually over a chair near the wall.

Now Harry felt fear, deep penetrating fear. She had not left, she had been taken. They had found her.

Somehow, they had found her.

AND THE AMAZING CONTEST WINNER IS: Sybyll

Yay!!! (Imagine the throwing of confetti) Yay!!!

So if you accept, let me know and I'll send you some questions so that I can start the character! okay? wonderful! I'm so excited. good for you.

p.s. If anyone forgets what the contest was... just go back to the author note at the end of ch. 18... I know it was awhile ago. sigh.

Alright, there it is. I'm terribly sorry about the hideous delay; I have no excuse to offer.

However, I will tell you that the next one is going to be unbelievable soon... but you need to trust me, I don't lie this time.

Now this is important…I want to clear something up right away. The last part of the chapter should absolutely not be over examined. If you're thinking something along the lines of: "Well, she could have transfigured a sheet into a dress, just to throw Harry off." stop being crazy... stop thinking all together, and believe what Harry thinks at the end... he's probably right. I know, because I wrote it.

And Bridget Bishop was the first woman burned as a witch in Salem, I guess my terribly named and made up school dedicates to her. Or maybe she founded it... I don't know, nor do I care that much. Anyway, that's that.

Have a lovely day everyone...

Thanks for reading, and PLEASE read and review.

p.s. I give credit to boyamiconfuzed for modivating me to write with the release of her amazingly hilarious one-shot "I do believe in Fairies." You should read it, it's powerful... kinda. It's in my favorites list. Read it and leave her comments, she's the greatest.

Jesp-R - Thanks! I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you're still reading.

humor my lips -YAY! I'm glad you like Marianne, I adore her, and I'm thrilled you like the story.

lia23- hehe. You quoted me, that's exciting. I love Ron... and Harry. Oh, well, I basically love them all.

balinnka- sigh. You left me such a wonderful compliment and I didn't update for such a long time. I'm terrible. But if you're still reading, I promise to be so quick from now on it will blow your mind.

boyamiconfuzed- Attractive boys? Where!?!?