AN: Next chapter! Not sure how I feel about this one, and not really sure how the British war honors system work but I needed to set things up. Sorry if anything is wrong, I'm pretty sure they don't engrave the medals with the recipient's name, but I am just trying to make the pack and Charlie a little less suspicious of Hermione.

TRIGGER WARNING: for mentions of rape and other dark themes throughout the story

Chapter 2

October 7, 2011

Two hours.

Two hours Hermione walked and not a single sign of human life, no buildings, no cars, heck there hadn't even been any street signs, Merlin she wondered if there was even a speed limit in this town or not! She was exhausted by it all and she wanted nothing more than to sit on the side of the road and cry, but she couldn't. Warming charms could only do so much and with night falling the air was moving from crisp to downright freezing, she fought to surround Teddy in her warmth as her teeth began the chatter that meant her spells were failing against nature's wiles. She waved her hand and conjured the most powerful charm she knew and moaned a fatigued and defeated sigh as the relief was short lived; creating a portkey was powerful magic and in her drained magical and emotional state she did not have the energy needed to summon a long-lasting effect. Simply said she was bone weary, distraught, and essentially magicless with what she was capable of in such a state; plus, her feet were sore beyond belief from walking nonstop for two bloody hours in far from sensible shoes! She figured the bad guys didn't care about a nice evening planned out when they were ready to nab you; so much for a sitter and a club night.

She looked down at the little boy in her arms and cried when she thought of who that sitter was meant to be, and how her last lifeline was gone now. She was on her own now and poor Teddy's lips were blue and quivering on her first night at this solo act; she couldn't even keep him warm, how was she meant to raise him alone?!

Her tear-filled gaze was blurred and her cheeks stinging as cold wind battered against their tear tracks, but she kept on her seemingly pointless trudge to nowhere as she attempted to bounce and calm the grumpy, uncomfortable babe nestled against her chest. Her legs wobbled as she attempted not to let her impending sobs crumple her. She couldn't even see as she continued to stumble forward into the night, her vision being tear clouded as it was an approaching set of headlights was a simple yellow blur until she heard screeching breaks and rapidly blinked her eyes to clear them. Her eyes couldn't make out the occupants of the powder blue police cruiser through the glowing high beams, and as she realized how close it sat to her and Teddy, she finally let her threatening tears fall in earnest. Keeping him warm was one thing, but almost getting him hit by a car on day one?! She was a complete failure; she'd have both of them dead within a week; her body was wracked by a sob as she glanced down at the baby who now fussed against her in wide-eyed fright.

The distraught witch vaguely heard the slamming of doors as two men dashed to her side, the one she distractedly recognized as a muggle law enforcement officer and the driver of the steel monstrosity that nearly mowed her down, through no fault of his own, was repeatedly asking her if she was okay before the seventh round of questions finally made it through her senses. Rapidly blinking her eyes to clear them, she turns her already refilling eyes up to the man to answer. He was a middle-aged man, probably mid to late 40's, she determined, a little above average height with short cropped salt and pepper hair, a mustache and a little more than a few days' worth of scruff and stubble across his chin, not to the point of looking unkempt, rather he simply looked a bit… rugged. And, blessed be, he wore the badge of the town sheriff. "I'm fine sir," she finally responded, whimpering at how weak her voice sounded, "just lost."

"How did you get lost out here on your own? I've never seen you around town, did you have a vehicle break down somewhere down the way," the sheriff asked at the same time as a hulking russet skinned man standing at a height easily over 6'4" drew her attention for the first time- going to show the level of distress the young witch was under to not even register the presence of the man that made even her burly Bulgarian, quidditch star ex look the size of an underdeveloped house-elf up until that moment- by wondering, "what's a pretty little thing like you doing out here, walking around at night all alone dressed like that?"

Looking down at herself, she remembered her dashed plans for the night and tried not to cry any harder if that was possible. She hadn't even thought to change before her mad dash, despite the comfortable clothes and runners she had in her trusty beaded bag. She'd been all set to go out for a night of celebration with her friends, dressed in her short black dress with its long, flowery lace sleeves and plunging neckline the self-conscious little witch had actually felt kind of pretty for once and was ready for a night of drinks, music and laughter with her "golden boy's" as Rita liked to call Harry and Ron. Ginny, Neville and Luna would be there too, a reunion of the Ministry Six, out to conquer the bar scene this time. For what wasn't there to celebrate after the fall of the most destructive, murderous dark wizard in the history of magic?

Then the harrowing Patronus came, an oxymoron when it was considered that such magic was meant to embody everything light and good in the world, but accurate just the same as it reacquainted her with the crushing reality that, so long as there were still bigots out there to follow Voldemort's credence of evil and prejudicial genocide, she would never be safe. And Greyback was worse than all that, he was unbound by humanity, carrying a vendetta and held to his own agenda unencumbered by his old master's view of the idyllic world. The monster did not hold the same delusions of a muggle free utopia. No, none of that mattered, all he sought was a world where he was free to roam, to bask in all his beastly ways, to murder, pillage, rape, and sire a hoard of feral werewolves to serve under him, perpetuating his every savage whim.

She was hopeless in the face of that, and all she could muster in her distraught hysteria was a feeble, "help us, please."

~o~O~o~

Paul Lahote wasn't surprised by much these days. Being a shapeshifting wolf who'd fought in a warlike battle with vampires and seen a hybrid be born not all that long ago did that to a person. But still a pretty little thing in sky-high heels wandering down the forested roadway between Forks and Lapush with a child that couldn't be much more than a year-old definitely registered on his unusual scale.

Yet here she was, with tears streaming down her face, begging for help without so much as an explanation of how she got there. Perhaps one would come when the shock wore of. She couldn't be more than five feet tall without the heels that enhanced her stature by a good six inches, with long, riotous curls, dark brown eyes that were overbrimmed with tears that clung to long lashes, curves that went on for days, and full pink lips that begged to be kissed. Rachel would definitely agree with his assessment, maybe she could be a part of their next threesome. Him and his imprint were possessive of on another, as was to be expected, but with others it was just sex and they enjoyed a little extra fun in the bedroom sometimes. Plus, it was hot to watch Rachel kiss other sexy women.

"Lahote," Chief Swan called, shaking him from his ruminations, "get her in the car."

Rachel had definitely mellowed him out, but he still enjoyed the thrill of a good fight, that's how he'd found himself joining the forks police, training under Charlie. They were on the way to the res now, with him in the know he was now part of the pack meetings and with the strange activity "animal attacks" that had started in the area again, it all spelled out a coven of leeches were nearby. The Cullens and Jacob had been gone for close to five years now, so the pack were at a loss for what was drawing them to the area.

He led the near catatonic girl into the car as she clutched the child to her chest, by sent he had determined the child wasn't hers and he really hoped they weren't dealing with a kidnapping on top of everything else.

As they started down the road, the girl began to calm incrementally as she cooed soothing words to the child in her arms. "It's alright Teddy Bear, well get you somewhere warm and safe." Safe from what he wondered, as she glanced at the men in the front seats warily. She had a British accent he hadn't registered at first, that made him wonder again how she'd come to be there.

Now that she seemed to be out of her state, he deemed her ready for questioning. Her sudden appearance was shady to say the least, and beautiful or not she could be dangerous. Especially when you considered the vampires in the area. She could be some kind of dazzled plant, reporting back to the bloodsuckers who'd been troubling them recently.

~o~O~o~

"What were you doing alone on the road, in the middle of the night," the giant of a man in the front seat questioned, shaking her from her perusal of Teddy's wellbeing. He was bigger than Fenrir, and she shivered unpleasantly at the thought of that odious man.

She thought on her feet, she could lie well when it counted. "See, we'd had a cab, I was trying to get to Forks, the police station, but we had gotten lost. Teddy was getting fussy and the driver was getting frustrated, so he said the fare wasn't worth it and kicked us out."

"That's strange," he rose his eyebrow suspiciously.

"Well, that Cab driver possessed strange levels of rudeness," she snipped.

"Hmm," Paul hummed as he looked at her with deciphering eyes.

"Why were you heading to the station," the older man in the front cut in.

"I was hoping someone there might be able to help me. I thought that an officer would know the town well and I'm looking for a place to stay," she answered honestly.

"At Forks," the russet skinned man seemed shocked, "why?"

"Teddy picked it," she shrugged.

The man snorted; he was staring to annoy her. She understood that it was an officer's job to question, but his attitude left a lot to be desired. "How did a baby pick where you would be staying?"

"He pointed at a map," she monotoned.

"Seems a bit unconventional," the man volleyed.

"Maybe so," she relented. "But our circumstances are unconventional."

"Unconventional how," he queried.

"You know, if you want the gritty details from someone who I know seems to be running from something, you should at least introduce yourself first," she scolded.

The older man driving looked properly chastised as he said. "I'm Charlie Swan, Chief of police. And that other mannerless prick is my deputy, Paul Lahote."

She snorted, "Hermione Granger. And this little cutie is my godson, Teddy Lupin," she fussed at the child as he clapped his hands at the sound of his name.

"Godson," gee, this Paul guy is relentless, Hermione thought. "Where are his parents?"

"They were killed," she sniffled as she glared at Paul and Teddy snuggled closer to her at seeing her upset. "And now I have to protect Teddy from the kind of people they died fighting so Teddy could have a better life. One man in particular has a vendetta against Teddy's father, Remus, and the safest place we can be is as far away from him as possible. They would seek to harm him and I won't allow that to happen."

"What were his parents fighting," he eyed her with suspicion.

"Paul," the older man exclaimed at his brazenness.

"I don't see how that is any of your business, officer or not," she snaped.

"It's my business because you could be bringing danger into the town I'm charged to protect," he shot back and she deflated.

"The only danger is to Teddy and myself," she sighed.

"Because of this fighting his parents did," he wondered.

"All of us fought," she replied. Eyes going blank as she remembered screams and flying curses. "An underground war of sorts against a terrorist group set on prejudicial genocide. Their leader is dead but sympathizers still remain."

"An underground war," the large man echoed. "In England? Never heard about any war there, and you seem a little young to have fought in a war."

She glared at him as the man who'd identified himself as the chief punched his arm for his tactlessness. "What part of underground don't you understand. It means hidden, secret. Put I was still awarded the Victoria Cross in a private Ceremony with the queen, it's not known to the public for a variety of reasons, but you may see it if you must insist on questioning my truth. And I'm eighteen, but war does not discriminate upon age." She cast a wandless, nonverbal accio as she reached her hand into her bag- it wouldn't due to reach her whole arm in to search for it in front of muggles. This was the bag she'd carried when she received the medal, and the bag it stayed in from that day forward so the reminder of all she had lost could stay forgotten outside the harsh light of day. An honor though it was. She ran her thumb over her name engraved in the back as she flung it at insensitive giant's head. Well, not a giant, she'd seen a giant, and a half giant, and he didn't even come close, but his size was still intimidating.

"The Victoria Cross," the inflection of Paul's voice was questioning, but it was clear that the chief of police had heard enough of the abrupt interrogation his underling had started as he stopped the car and looked back at her in sympathy.

"Enough Paul, it's the highest honor awarded in England, for valor in the face of the enemy. It doesn't come lightly and a recipient deserves a certain level of respect. Her story is unusual but it doesn't mean she has earned any less of this respect. She isn't going to tell two people she hardly knows all that went into earning that honor, she's seen combat and your incessant questioning is only going to remind her of something that is sure to have scarred her, even more than she is reminded of it every day." he glared at Paul, and the respect it made Hermione feel helped her understand how he was awarded the highest position in the towns police force. "We'll help you miss Granger. The Bed and Breakfast in town doesn't take anyone in this late at night, but I have a spare room from when my daughter still lived here. I know that staying there may be unusual and uncomfortable, but it's our only option at the moment. I'll help you get sorted in the morning."

"Thank you for opening your home to me, I hate to impose, I don't have much by the way of funds at the moment, but I should have enough to repay you and rent out a room somewhere until I can find employment," Hermione smiled weakly.

"You don't have to worry about that. You aren't imposing, and I'm more than happy to get you settled in here," she was boggled by his kindness.

"Emily's hiring at the diner," Paul offered with an apologetic grimace as he handed back her medal.

Hermione nodded her thanks as she leaned back into her seat.

"I can walk to Sam's from here," Paul started as Hermione interrupted.

"Oh, I don't want to…"

Paul stopped her, "It's fine, not much more than a quarter mile off and I can fill them in on everything when I get there." He said with nods of goodbye as he stepped from the car.

"Let me know what's going on tomorrow," the chief nodded at Paul as Hermione started fretting again.

"I really don't want to get in the way of anything you have going on."

"It's fine, nothing major. Just the weekly meeting with the leaders of the Quileute Reservation. like I said, Paul can catch me up tomorrow," the older man assured with an easy smile. "Besides, you seem exhausted, better to get you squared away as soon as possible."

And that's how Hermione found herself rocking Teddy to sleep in an old wooden rocking chair in the corner of a purple room that looked like it could belong to the typical American teenage girl, hoping that her time in an ordinary small town like Forks would be free of danger for once.