How would he know?
How would he know?
How would he know?
Two and a half years had passed since she escaped the charnel house that was Hogwarts. Growing ripe in a bed sit-- she spent her pregnancy cringing in the shadows, startling at the slightest sound and burrowing inward like a mouse.
Then Jasmine came! She burst forth in waves of pain and a gush of blood and water. They set her, pink and mewling and still wet from birth and her umbilical cord still attached, on her bare tummy and suddenly Hermione was alive again.
The shadows were banished by the unfocused blue jean gaze of her daughter. By the jasmine pale hand that rested on her breast, gently opening and closing like a sea anemone, as her daughter rooted and then latched on to nurse for the first time.
And now she was gone. Hermione felt an ache in her breast, and it was her heart bursting. For a time the shadows returned to claim her again, and she rocked on the floor in a tight ball, howling with grief.
She was not aware of the banging on her door. She did not hear it burst open nor did she feel herself gently lifted by strong arms to be cradled like a lost baby.
She awoke in her bed some hours later. Late afternoon sunshine streaming in through the window. She had been dreaming about Harry. They were sitting on an outcrop of rocks on a grassy hill high in the Scottish wilds. A moor, purple with heather lay in the valley below. The wind blew through the grass in gentle gusts turning their perch into an island in the middle of an emerald green ocean.
"Harry, I miss you so much. I've made such a mess of things," she said, her arms wrapped tightly around her folded legs.
"You did what you had to at the time, Hermione," He replied, rubbing her back. "But you can't stay here," he continued sadly. "Your daughter needs you to be strong. Find her and take her back from them."
"How? I'm powerless. I can't even begin to stand up to them."
"That's not the Hermione Granger that I knew," he said sharply. "You can face them, and you will."
"But Harry!" She whined.
"No buts! Now WAKE UP!" He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her, so she did.
She surfaced like someone drowning who searches for breath, gasping and clawing at the air, at the bed, grasping for a handhold on the reality that had so mercifully abandoned her some hours before.
There was a sudden weight on the bed, a heavy dip, and then she was wrapped in familiar arms.
"Hermione," her father's voice thrummed in her ears, soothing and guiding her though the fog like it had so many times before during the fever dreams of her childhood. "You're safe. I have you." His hand smoothed through her hair.
"I'm here too honey," her Mum cooed.
"Mum? Dad? How did you?"
"Your neighbor Chris," Her father answered. "He found your list of important numbers, and called us."
"Dad?" Hermione sobbed. "Daddy--"
"Hush now. You need to rest." He soothed, gently guiding her back down to the bed.
"Daddy, I can't. Jasmine needs me." Hermione cried out, but she lay back unable to fight.
"Wherever she is right now, she needs you to be strong and healthy." He answered carefully, glancing quickly at his wife for support. Hermione heard her mum's soft sob and it resonated within her as if they were tuning forks both set to the same pitch, and she began to cry again.
"We've called the police, and they are sending someone shortly, but for now you need to rest," her father patted her hand and rose from the bed. "Come Mum, let's let her rest," he said to his wife and they left together.
Sleep came again, and this time she did not dream.
A knock at her bedroom door woke her a short time later. The door opened and her father came in. He was still dressed in his blue scrubs. Hermione was ashamed to realize that she hadn't noticed before. He had a tumbler of water, which he handed to her with great care.
"Daddy?" She said thickly, her tongue felt like a dry piece of leather, and her throat was scratchy.
"The police are here to take a statement." He said, tenderly. "Drink this first. I brought you some aspirin." He set the pills on her nightstand.
She sipped the water carefully. "How long have I been out?" she asked, not wanting to broach the subject of her daughter. If she didn't speak it, it wouldn't be real.
"Awhile," He sat down at the edge of the bed, and took the glass from her.
"Daddy, I don't know what to tell them."
"The truth is always your best option in times like this," he rubbed her legs through the blanket.
She pulled a face, "Daddy, they wouldn't believe the truth."
"They might not, but I will. What happened to you, kitten?"
Hermione turned her face to the wall. "Her father took her," she whispered. She watched the cracks in the plaster double and then treble as her eyes misted and silent tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I take it that this was not an arranged visit?"
She shook her head, "No." She sat up in the bed, tenting her knees and hugging them close to her body. Her eyes felt like they were burning, but she forced herself to look at him.
"Daddy, I'm scared."
"I know kitten, we're all scared, but we'll get her back. You'll see."
"Daddy, it was strange. You dropped me off last night and he was here, sitting in my apartment. It was as if he had just found out about her. How would he know? Who told him?"
"Did you do anything differently? See anything strange recently?" her father handed her the glass again, this time with the aspirin. She took them and finished off the last of the water.
"I haven't noticed anyone lurking about, not that I would know if they were," she felt as if she were banging up against a wall. What had been different? There had been the episode with Jasmine and the cuddly toy, yet during his visit Severus did not ask if Jasmine had shown any aptitude for magic. The child minder had noticed something, but she would be the last person that Hermione would suspect of having ties to the Wizarding world. She had gone to the police-- The police! How stupid could she be? Of course the Muggle police were being monitored.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Daddy! I reported his name to the police. You said that there is a constable here now? I can't talk to him!" She cried. "Anything I say could go straight back to Voldemort!"
"Let it," he answered. "You must take that chance, Hermione, for Jasmine's sake."
"I don't understand." She had been so unprepared for his response. Was he actually encouraging her to plunge them all into further danger?
"It's not as if he couldn't find you, kitten. If I understand correctly what wizards are capable of-- he, Jasmine's father, chose to let you go. It was only after he learned about Jasmine that he chose to come. Continuing to live in hiding is not only cheating yourself, it cheats the world. You have so much potential, Hermione. Don't throw it all away because you are afraid. If you do that he wins." He hugged her tightly, and she heard him sniff, betraying his one chink in his strong facade.
"Oh Daddy, I love you so much," she whispered, and nestled herself closer, her tears wetting his shirt.
"I love you too kitten."