Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that you recognize. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. I am using them without her consent, but lovingly.
A/N Chapter was revised on May 18, 2004 to reflect the changes recommended by my brit-picker, Yncarn. Nearly all of the changes were made verbatim from her suggestions. Thanks!
Hermione dashed out of the Police station to the nearest public toilet. The place was dingy and smelled strongly of urine. The hand dryer had been ripped from the wall and there was a spreading pool of water on the floor by a bunged up toilet. She sat Jasmine on the counter and pulled a couple of paper towels off of the roll that had been put next to the empty dispenser. To her disappointment the water from the tap would not get hot. She wet the towels, wringing out the excess and examined her face in the stainless steel mirror. It was pale and blotchy, her eyes red rimmed.
How dare the PC accuse her of hurting Jasmine? The very idea was appalling. She would never hit a child, least of all her own daughter. Never.
Jasmine squirmed irritably on the countertop, eager to explore, straining against Hermione's steadying grasp.
"Hold on baby." Hermione said, and she quickly wiped her face clean. She felt polluted. No amount of scrubbing could lessen the sensation. The feeling went down through the layers of her skin and lay against her heart like a stone. Why did they have to ask about Him? And why did she allow them to wrench his name from that carefully guarded place in her mind? 'Did you think that they would have taken her away if you refused to answer? Yes. Maybe. No.' She was behaving like a frightened schoolgirl.
"Aaaaaah! Mum mum mum, go go go!"
"All right, all right. We're leaving." Hermione said. It was just a moment of weakness, too much stress, too much fear, and a moment of stupidity on her part. They would never find him. If anyone could be farther removed from her world, it was he. They were safe for now. Jasmine is safe.
"Come on Jas, We're going to ride the train to Grandma and Granddad's." Hermione said, dialing all of the happiness that she could into her voice, and sticking her tongue out at her daughter. She scooped her up onto her hip and walked out of the loo with her head held high.
She was washing the dishes with her father when she finally worked up enough nerve to ask for what she needed. Jasmine and her mum were in the next room playing. Mum's cheerful voice was punctuated by Jasmine's shouts of undiluted glee. Hermione spoke softly.
"Dad. I need to borrow some money. Jasmine's childminder has dropped me right in it and won't take her anymore, and we have no food . . . "Her voice was halting. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can manage." Merlin, she felt awful.
"How much do you need?" Her father said, wiping his hands on the dishtowel, and setting it next to the drying rack.
"Whatever you can spare. Not a lot, enough to pay a childminder for a few days, and for some groceries. I can't take another advance from work, Mr. Charles says that business is too slow, and he doesn't have it to give . . ."
"Hermione . . . Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You're not going to be able to give Jasmine what she needs if you insist on continuing this way."
"Dad. It's hard. I already told Mum that I would think it over. Will you give me the money?"
Her dad looked hard at her, deliberating. "Yes . . . I'll help you, on the condition that you come home."
How she had wanted to scream yes! 'Take me away from that grotty flat, and my wretched job. Yes.'
"I can't. It's too dangerous." She said, defeated. She left the kitchen.
"Mum. We have to leave now. Please get Jasmine's things." She said.
Her mother looked up from her place on the floor. "Oh, must you? We've barely had time for a visit!" She pouted. Jasmine was rolling on the floor, belly exposed, face flushed and ravished from the tickles that had been lavished upon her.
"No, I'm afraid we have to leave before it gets much later. We have to take the train, and the neighborhood is not safe at night."
"Alright then," she said looking up at her husband. "Dear, why don't you give them a lift? See them home properly."
"Right." Her father said, disappearing to the closet. When he returned he was carrying Hermione's purse and Jasmine's nappy bag.
Hermione hugged her mum goodbye, and had Jasmine do the same, although the girl still didn't quite understand goodbye hugs, she made a show of blowing kisses. They got into the car and drove across town. Hermione's father walked them up to the door and pressed a thick roll of twenty- pound notes into her hand.
"I hope this is enough for now. Please reconsider, darling. It would mean so much to your mum." He said.
Hermione gave him a wistful look and kissed him lightly on his cheek. "Thanks Dad." She tucked the money into the pocket of her jeans, and left him there on the steps.
When she reached the door to her flat she found it ajar. Immediately apprehensive, she passed it for her neighbor's flat. Chris was a young university student, about a year and a half her junior, a Rugger type. He answered her frantic knocking clad only in a towel, his hair still wet and soapy from the shower. Balancing Jasmine on her hip, she pushed past him into his flat. He quirked an eyebrow at her and let her pass.
"Chris, I'm sorry for interrupting your bath, but I need your help." She could feel her face flush looking at him dripping wet. She had not seen so much naked male flesh since the days of following Harry and Ron into the locker room after their Quidditch matches.
"Yes?" He asked her. "Hang on." He disappeared back into the bathroom for a minute, and when he returned he was fully dressed, toweling his hair.
"Ok, what can I do for you, beautiful?" He said.
"Please . . .I . . .. I think someone broke into my flat. Would you make sure that whoever it is has gone?"
"Sure." He said, grimacing. "Someone broke in here about three months ago. Never caught them. If they're still over there, they're going to be very sorry." He said. He rummaged around underneath his couch and brought out a cricket bat. Holding it like a club, he brushed past Hermione, tweaking Jasmine affectionately on her cheek. "Hello love, we'll make sure you and your gorgeous mummy are safe."
Hermione followed behind him, and waited in the hall just outside the door. Chris slipped in quietly, hugging the wall. He soon disappeared from sight. Seconds later there was a shout followed by a crack and a sickening thud as a body hit the floor.
"You can come in now." Chris called. "Got your intruder, knocked him flat on his ass." He said to her as they met up at the entrance to her living room.
"Scary looking bloke. Old fella dressed in black robes of all things. Goth weirdo!" His face was flushed and his eyes gleamed wickedly.
Hermione felt her heart give out. "Here!" She pressed Jasmine into his arms, and rounded the settee. There on the floor was the one man that she most dreaded to see.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" She said kneeling down, brushing his hair out of his face. He was out cold. She touched his neck, feeling for a pulse.
His eyes fluttered open, dazedly, and then focused on her face. "Hermione?"
"You know this tosser?" Chris said. Jasmine was looking on interestedly, pawing at Chris's face, wanting to go to her mother.
"Yes. I know him quite well. Chris, meet Jasmine's father. Severus Snape."