Chapter Three- To Midland Street

As Hermione hung up the phone, she could feel tears stinging at the back of her eyes. She rapidly blinked them back, not wanting to make a scene.

The sheriff stepped forward, "If you need a place to stay for the night, I can show you to the local bed and breakfast," Hermione rather liked the sheriff, this Emma Swann. She seemed less calculating than Mr. Gold...she also didn't look remotely like anyone Hermione was related to, so that was a bit of a plus.

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," Hermione glanced up under her eyelashes and saw Ron throw her a sidelong look. She shook her head ever so slightly. They would discuss it later.

The walk was short and silent, "Well, here we are," said Emma, gesturing to a building with a sign that creaked in the slight breeze. 'Granny's Bed and Breakfast', it read.

"Thanks so much," replied Hermione, wanting nothing more than for the admittedly lovely woman to get lost. She wanted to digest this unholy mess with Ron.

Emma smiled, "Of course. Stop by the station if you need anything."

"We will," Hermione said, "You've been so helpful, thank you."

Emma smiled and began her return to the sheriff's station. Hermione gestured for Ron to come with her into the building, where they were given a room key. Once they got into their room, they were careful to lock, ward, and muffliato the door.

Ron wasted no time, "What was that about, 'Mione? I thought that we were going to figure out where we were and then portkey to a wizarding area so that we could get home. And what was up with you and your Dad? And that guy who looks like your dad, blimey…"

Hermione was pacing the room, worrying her lip again, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! There's something more going on here…something strange. I'm not leaving until I figure out what it is. Dad seems to know what's going on, but won't tell me…Why!? If I ever needed to know something, it's right now."

Ron sighed, walking up to his wife to gently rub her shoulders, "So what now? We need money. We can't just go into this half-cocked."

She smiled, a more genuine smile than the one she'd been flashing about town for hours, "Oh, I know that," she said, "We are just going to have to go to Midland Street- it's Boston's Diagon Alley. We can go to Gringotts and pick up a few books- I was also thinking about going to the apothecary for potions ingredients."

Ron smiled. Even when she was going to pieces, Hermione was ahead of the game.

Hermione grabbed a small porcelain figurine off the nightstand, muttering 'Portus' under her breath. The figurine glowed blue and Hermione smiled, pleased with her work. Ron touched a finger to the portkey and the pair were off.

They landed gently in a busy street, hidden from the rest of the city and began walking with one destination in mind; Gringotts. The pair walked inside the bank and walked up to the goblin-manned front desk.

Ron handled the transaction with little preamble, "Hello," he said, "We'd like to withdraw from our vault."

"Names?" asked the goblin, without looking up.

"Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger," he responded.

"Wands," replied the goblin, taking a moment to pass his hand over them before nodding, "Very well. Come with me," he hopped down from his tall stool and led them to a cart, much like those in London. Hermione and Ron rode down to a vault, which the goblin then unlocked and retrieved a not-unreasonable sum of gold.

When they returned to the foyer, Hermione asked the goblin, who had by then returned to the desk, "Can we exchange some of this for muggle money?"

"Of course, ma'am," said the goblin. He took the gold that Hermione offered and weighed it carefully, putting it away and giving her a sum of muggle money in return. Both Ron and Hermione thanked the goblin, who merely nodded in response, as they left.

"Bit of a rude little bugger, wasn't he?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Ronald, the poor thing was just doing his job."

"Suppose you're right," Ron conceded, "After all, can't expect everyone to get as worked up as a House Elf about their jobs."

Hermione pushed open the door to the bookshop and smiled involuntarily; of all the kinds of magic in the world, the special sort found amongst books was most definitely her favorite. A perky young witch walked up to them and asked if they needed any help.

"Do you have anything on blood magic?" asked Hermione, following a hunch.

The girl looked disconcerted, but thoughtful, "That's old magic. Some of the oldest. You'd likely find more on it if you were to go to a library. It's not something modern authors discuss much."

Herimione sighed, as if the shop girl had confirmed what she feared, "Well," she replied, resigned, "If you could just direct us to what you have, that would be wonderful."

The girl nodded and went on her way, seeming rather happy to help solve the puzzle. Meanwhile, Hermione perused the potions books, picking up a copy here and there to flip through. She returned most to the shelf, but a few she kept, intending to look at them further later.

"Here you go," said the shop girl, coming back towards them with several dusty tomes, "I'm afraid it's not much, but it's all that we have in stock."

Hermione gave the potions texts that she had been carrying to Ron, who accepted the pile with a slight 'ooph'. She poured through the first few pages of each text, seemingly satisfied.

"Thank you," she said, "These should work nicely."

The salesgirl beamed, "Can I check you out now, or would you like to browse a bit more?"

"No, I think that we have what we were looking for," replied Hermione.

The girl nodded leading them to the counter. Ron and Hermione spent a hefty sum on the books, but really, they had no other option. The pair needed information and they needed it quickly.

They ducked into the apothecary quickly before they left Midland Street; Hermione stocked up on potions ingredients that she thought might be useful. Then, finally, their business done, they left Midland Street and portkeyed back to the bed and breakfast in the strange little town in Maine.

"Not again," muttered Mary Margaret, her voice muffled; she was holding her face in her hands.

Emma nodded gravely, leaning against the wall in their cramped apartment, "It seems like it."

David shook his head, "Well, we knew that this could happen. The curse is broken. The town just shows up on a map now."

"They do just seem like hikers, they'll probably leave within a few days," sighed Emma, wistfully hoping that something might be as it seemed in this town.

"That's what we said about our Mr. Mendell," said Mr. Gold, startling everyone from the midst of the shadows that seemed to always envelop him, "He just seemed like a car crash victim. Yet he seems quite intent on staying."

"Just hold on a minute," said Neal, rising from his chair, "Why are a pair of lost hikers such a big deal?"

Mary Margaret looked up at him, "They aren't from our land, Neal."

"And…" he asked, still lost.

Mr. Gold sighed, looking at his son, "There's magic here, Bae. We can't just have them going off, spreading tales of a fantastical town hidden in the woods."

Neal nodded, feeling a bit foolish. It seemed that it had been quite a long time since he had thought about home after all.

"Well," said Emma, with some finality, "There's nothing that we can do about it tonight. If they stay longer than we think they should, then…well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

After making sure that their wards had not been disturbed, Ron and Hermione began to set up their improvised research lab inside their room at the inn; Ron resized the books they had bought and safely stowed away their money whilst Hermione busily began the construction of a makeshift potions lab near the window. Ron finished quickly and transfigured a few sundry objects around the room into parchment, quills and pots of ink, which he knew Hermione liked to have on hand when she was working.

Hermione quickly spelled them some pajamas and they both got into bed, exhausted. However, neither was going to sleep; Ron and Hermione had a long night of reading ahead of them before they would have their answers.

Hours later, both Ron and Hermione were still awake. At 3 o'clock in the morning, Hermione let out a massive squeak. Ron turned to her with bleary eyes, blinking sluggishly.

"What is it 'Mione?" he asked, through a massive yawn. He had never had his wife's verve when it came to massive research projects such as this.

"I-I think that I've found something," she said, still looking at the book in astonishment.

"Well, tell us, then," replied Ron still blinking sleep from his eyes.

"It's right here," she said, pointing to an entry in the massive text, "Sanguine Tutelam," she muttered, becoming engrossed in the new mystery that the information represented, "Sanguine Tutelam is one of the most ancient forms of magic, going back further than recorded magical history. Sanguine is not a spell, but a magical bond between family members, specifically parents and children. If one family member is in truly mortal danger, the other family member will be summoned from wherever they are in the world to protect them. This creates a magical bond between the two; the pair cannot separate without intention to return to one another until the danger has passed. It is especially notable because it applies not only to parents protecting their children but, in special circumstances, to children protecting their parents. It is something that happens naturally to all witches and wizards, not just those who have a magical parent."

Ron looked at her, "But that would mean…"

She shook her head, "I know, I know…but it's the only thing that makes sense. My dad knows more than he's telling…there's something else going on here."

"But it just doesn't-"

She let out a sarcastic laugh, "Make sense? Ronald, none of this does."

Ron sighed, "I think that I know what comes next."

Hermione nodded, her face resolute, "We have to find out if Mr. Gold is my father."