AN: I'm not really sure how Convenience stores work in the UK/Britain, but my friend once told me when in doubt use this *shows off artistic license*, so I made a few things up. Matter of fact I pretty much winged it in a couple of parts in this story (such as, are clerks in England allowed to have guns? Do their stores have panic buttons? Is there really a street called 17th Street?) so I just went with it and hoped nobody would point out any mistakes.

Special thanks to aisha99022 and oh my tomioness for their very kind reviews, it really made my day. (Also, to Tomioness, I've been trying to update every day but I was busy yesterday, so to make up for it here is an extra long chapter.)

It wasn't that Hermione was looking for him, because she most certainly was not. No sir-ee, not at all. She was just being your normal teenager and walking to the closest convenience around ten o' clock in the evening because she had a craving for something salty. Sure, it was Halloween and she had been out earlier with friends getting an ungodly amount of candy, but she didn't want candy right now. She wanted something more substantial yet equally bad for her, and as stated before, salty. So there you have it, she was out for food-related reasons, and not for reasons concerning a certain person she had yet to bump into.

With that mindset she made her way to the Londis that was only about a block from her house, the soles of her trainers smacking against the wet pavement, her hands inside her jumper pockets as she made her way. The street that before had seemed spooky and magical with decorations and children in costumes running around from house to house with bags stuffed full of candy were not eerily dark and quiet. Even the street lights didn't seem to give off as much light as they did earlier, and it was making Hermione regret leaving the house.

Her parents were asleep, they had to go to work the following morning and only stayed up long enough to make sure Hermione got home safely, and had no idea she even left. If something were to happen her they would never know until it was too late. A chill ran down her back and she walked faster, her heart nearly stopping when she heard a twig break. In a panic she turned around and felt immediately relieved and ashamed when she saw it was just a tabby.

"You're just being silly." She said aloud, "It's just a cat, and besides, you live in a safe neighborhood." Hermione firmly reminded herself, the quiet words seemed to break whatever spell that came over Hermione because she instantly felt better and not a bit afraid anymore. She new that her brain was just playing tricks on her, it was all just the brain and her imagination making nothing seem like something. With that in mind she made it the rest of the way to the convenience store without another incident.

The store was completely empty, save for the middle aged man sitting behind the counter reading a magazine that he only looked up from long enough to watch her enter the store. She felt a little disappointed, as silly as it seemed, she knew better than to expect him to be there. Dejected she made her way to the back and grabbed a coke and bag of crisps, wondering what the point of running into him every Halloween for three years was if the one time she actually expected to run into him she didn't. Her feet shuffled across the scuffed linoleum floor as she made her way to the front of the store.

Then they showed up.

At first her mind wouldn't register what was going on. One moment the store was quiet as could be with the man ringing up her items, the next two people barged in through the store doors and were waving their guns around telling the cashier to give them all the money in the register.

Even though panic tried to overtake Hermione's mind, even though every instinct in her body was telling her to flee, she stayed completely still and kept a cool and logical mind about her. If she ran they might shoot on instinct, if she moved at all she might call attention to herself. Her eyes immediately went to both men, studying them closely, for they were obviously men now that she got a good look at them. One was about average height, really lanky, the other was stockier and shorter, only a little taller than Hermione really. Both of them were wearing masks.

She gave a small, internal sigh of relief, if they were wearing masks then they probably would leave her and the cashier alone as long as neither of them did something stupid. With masks there was no need to get rid of witnesses, and who wanted to be wanted for robbery and murder. No, they just wanted money not blood shed.

"Okay, just stay calm." The man behind the counter told them both, his voice soothing as if he were talking to a couple of rabid dogs, as he slowly reached towards the register, opened it, and began to place all the money in one of the stores paper bags. His movements were precise and fluid, as if he were afraid to make any sudden movements. All in all Hermione thought he was handling the situation well, this would all soon be over with and she could go home and never sneak out at night again. Especially not over something so stupid.

"Hurry up you fucking tosser." The taller, skinnier man man, jabbing his gun in the cashier's direction. He kept glancing towards the glass door nervously, probably afraid someone might show up. Mentally Hermione wished nobody would, it could only end in disaster, the twitchy fellow would probably end up doing something stupid and get someone killed.

At this point nobody was paying any real attention to Hermione, they were too busy eyeing each other and the door for them to notice the girl. For one moment, though, for some reason, both of the robbers had taken their attention off of the cashier, it wasn't even five seconds and the man behind the counter had reached under the counter, pulled out a gun and most likely pressed the panic button. It was a stalemate the two goons didn't know what to do, the bag of money was still on the counter and while they both had guns the man behind the counter had one too. They could shoot, but he'd probably shoot one of them too, and really they didn't want to die or possibly get sent to prison for life over money.

And alas, all good things must come to an end to it was only a mild surprise to Hermione when her existence was remembered and a gun was pointed in her direction, causing a jolt of fear to rush through her system. Was this how she was going to die? Shot at the age of fourteen and left to bleed out on the dirty floor of a convenience store? She had always wanted to do something meaningful with her life before she died, perhaps cure a deadly disease or discover that some extinct species was actually still alive. She'd even prefer dying for a cause over dying for whatever amount of money was inside a register, probably only a couple hundred dollars. Is that the price her life was worth to these people?

"Put the Goddamn gun down or we'll shoot the girl." Twitchy demanded, his voice shaky and coming out at a higher than normal pitch, his hand motioning from Stocky to Hermione, signaling for him to grab her.

Still slightly panicking she didn't know what to do, she was a planner not a spontaneous thinker most of the time. She had no idea how to handle a situation like this. Meaty warm fingers grasped her upper arm, digging into the fabric of her jacket and arm. Her eyes landed on the cashier, she had never been this scared before in her life.

The cashier, either hearing her silent plea or unwilling to start a bloodbath in the store lowered his gun and after a moment set it down on the floor so that he was no longer holding it but the other two men couldn't grab it.

"If we see you bend over to pick up the gun or hear anything that sounds like a gunshot we're going to kill the little Doll over here, and her death can be on your conscience because it won't be on mine." Twitchy backed out of the store first, soon followed by Stocky who was dragging out Hermione, always keeping her in front of him. Her heart was about to jump out of her chest, her body was tense and wanting to try and escape, to break free from the iron grip on her arm and just run free.

Her mind, on the other hand, was still acting logical unwilling to let fear and instinct take over and get her killed. it reasoned that she was small, weak, and not even remotely athletic while the man holding her was large, if not tall, strong and had a gun. Both of them had guns, actually, and she had nothing. She could try to fight and get away but the odds were not in her favor, chances were she would just make them angry and they would kill her anyway out of spite. If she behaved, didn't put up a fight and did what they said for now they were more likely to let her go, it's not like they wanted her to come with them from the start. She wasn't a kidnapee, she was a hostage and soon as they made it to their car or the end of the parking lot, whichever she would most likely be let go.

Except there was a flaw in her plan, because they didn't let her go. Instead she got shoved inside the back of a car after Twitchy and before Stocky, effectively squishing her in between the two people. In the front seat was a new person who took off before the door was even shut all the way.

"Why did you bring the kid?" Twitchy looked peeved, he obviously hadn't expected his friend to bring her with him but at this point it was too late, they had to get out of this area before the cops came before they even considered stopping for something.

"You told me to grab her." The stockier one spoke for the first time, his voice was deep and had a whining quality to it, as if he were a kid about to be punished and trying to talk his way out of it.

"Yeah, I meant grab her, get out, let her go, then leave. Not kidnap her." Twitchy was pretty furious. Kidnap was almost as bad as murder, robbery would get a half hearted investigation at best, but kidnapping would have cops on the case for a while, "We should drop, push her out, and just drive off."

"You two shut the hell up, you bloody idiots." The one up front was glaring back at them through the rearview mirror, he had shoulder length blond hair, a fair face, was surprisingly young at about nineteen or twenty and had an uncommonly cruel gleam in his eyes as his lips slowly formed a cruel smile, "Shes seen one of us now so we'll just have to kill her and drop the body off somewhere. There's no other choice, regretfully." Except he didn't sound regretful at all.

The big one tightened his grip around Hermione's arm, honestly the poor thing was already barely getting any circulation and at this rate was likely to fall off. "But Boss said-"

The big man was cut off by Twitchy, "That's right, the Boss told us go in, get the money, leave. He didn't say anything about killing off little girls." If the man hadn't of threatened to kill her earlier she could have hugged him, maybe he was all talk, "We should take her to him and see what he wants to do." He sounded a little nervous at the thought of disturbing his boss so late, but he seemed even more nervous about murdering her. With that in mind she decided to sit as quietly and look as helpless and innocent as possible.

The blond one looked disappointed, like he had a toy taken away from him, "Fine, but if he gets pissed off at us for bothering him over the little brat I'm pointing at you." His words came out in a snarl and his mood as so wretched Hermione could taste it on her tongue like a filthy sludge trying to choke her.

Hermione wanted to cry, she had no one to blame but herself, yes there had never been a curfew for her before, but that was because they had never needed one. Her parents had trusted her to always be at home and safe during the night, unless she asked permission to stay at Ginny's house. Really, she had known better than to leave that night, she should have turned back when she was frightened earlier but it was like this stubborn part of her just had to prove she wasn't afraid and to finish her walk to a gas station to see if she would run into someone she knew wouldn't be there. What were the chances of seeing him again anyway, was any of this worth it? Not even close, what if she really did die tonight just because for some reason she had wanted to see someone she had only met three times in her whole life. He wasn't even a nice to her.

Truly Hermione's only hope was her brain, if she could talk her way out of this or escape, well not escape. She had already written that off earlier, no it rested with her being able to talk her way out of this. She needed to use her wits to convince them to let her go, but the problem was how to go about it.

The bigger man, Stocky as she had been calling him in her mind, was the brawn of the trio, he obviously didn't think much for himself and would end up following whatever the other two chose in the end. The taller one who was currently fidgeting, Twitchy, would most likely let her go but he was too easily cowed to stand up to someone for her. In their world it was put yourself first, not the random kid they abducted by accident. Which meant it came down to Blondy, he definitely wouldn't be letting her go anytime soon. Not only had she seen his face and was able to report him and describe his features to the police if she wanted to, but he would probably enjoy killing her for fun, and that was after making her scream. Altogether that made their boss the best option to talk to, it wasn't a very good option, but it was her best one.

"All right, Doll, get walking." Twitchy was pushing her out of the door while Stocky pulled her. Both of them finally let go of her and she couldn't resist rubbing her arm, trying to get the tingling sensation out of it.

"Don't just stand there." The blond one kicked her, his gun pointed at her, did all these men have guns? "Move it."

At this point the other two had removed their masks, probably finding them too hot and a lost cause at this point since she had already seen one of them. Twitchy had sandy hair, a big nose and pale watery eyes while Stocky had dark brown hair, dull brown eyes and protruding ears. Neither of them could be older than seventeen. Well, at least if she died, she died knowing the faces of the men who had helped kill her in their own way.

Taking a deep breath she walked in front of them taking in the house in front of her, the lawn needed weeding, the sidewalk was crumbled and cracked, the roof could use some repair, the walls of the house a good wash, the shutters were broken and the house a tad small, overall it was in good condition compared to the other houses she saw when they were pulling up.

One of the men, she didn't know which, reached around her to knock on the door. Nothing happened for a while and the person knocked again, a little more hesitant than before. This time she distinctly heard a masculine voice swear and footsteps making their way towards the door. When it sounded like they were right on the other side they paused for a moment, most likely looking through the peephole. Whoever it was finally yanked the door open, leaving Hermione speechless.

"What?" He hissed, his dark eyes were directed towards Blondy, obviously he was the one in charge of the little group, his face eerily blank and emotionless, which was even more terrifying because you could just feel pure menace rolling off him like smoke, like thin tendrils of ill intent reaching out and trying to harm them for whatever wrong they committed by knocking on his door.

"We have a bit of a problem, Sir." the blond answered, and if Hermione wasn't mistaken his voice was just a tad bit higher, his voice just a little less cocky than it had been earlier. A sick sort of twisting pleasure entered her along with a feeling of dread, who had this person become that men like this feared him?

The blond's voice took on an oily sweet quality to it, thick and overwhelming, "I told the other two to just kill her, but of course they're pathetic, snivelling selves wanted to bring her here to you first and interrupt your work." He accused, obviously unwilling to share any blame with them.

Coward. The word was contemptuous and if they had been here under any other circumstance she would have said it out loud.

For the first time he looked down to study Hermione and she looked up to stare him straight in the eyes, if she hadn't been looking so closely she would have missed the slight widening of the pupils, seems like he was just as surprised to see her as she had been to see him. Looks like she had gotten her wish after all.

A new hand grabbed onto Hermione's arm and yanked her away from the other three now standing alone on the porch, Hermione herself now being on the other side of the doorway, "I'll take care of this problem from here on, you three go finish your job." His voice was cold enough to burn as he pulled her further back into the hallway and slammed the door on their faces.

"What the fuck were you even doing with them." He turned her around to face him, looking like he wanted nothing more than to smack her around a little, knock some sense into that thick bushy head of hers, not that she'd blame him. She had wanted to do that to herself earlier. Matter of fact, she still wanted to. After all, they both knew this was her fault when it came down to it.

"They were robbing the a Londis near my home, I happened to already be inside it buying a late night snack." She admitted, still unsure as to whether or not it was a good thing that it was him of all people that she was talking to, "The man at the register pulled out a gun mid-robbery and one thing led to another. Next thing I know I'm a hostage and the idiots decide to take me with them rather than leave me when they got to safety." She was still a little bitter about that, she might be home right now if that one guy had let her go.

"And you just let them take you, drag you into a car, and drive you all the way to some strangers house where you may or may not be killed, depending on what they wanted to do with you." Contempt laced his next words, sending sharp spikes of shame into Hermione's already bruised ego, "I bet you didn't even try to fight back, stupid little thing that you are."

"Pardon." Her words were polite as could be, even as fury and terror mixed and boiled beneath the surface, "But it would have been stupid for me to fight. The one holding me was more powerful making it nearly impossible for me to escape him, and even if I had he and the other guy both had guns. Not only that but I'm not exactly a fast runner." The confession made her a little embarrassed, nobody wanted to admit they weren't good at something, Hermione especially. If she was less of a bookworm perhaps she would have been able to run and duck for cover rather than cower and let herself get kidnapped without a fight.

"Better a feeble attempt than to let them lead you like a lamb to the slaughter." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "But then, little Hermione, with that hair you always did look a bit like a little lamb. All legs and arms, feebly bleating for attention."

She felt her face heating up and wondered if her cheeks were growing red, trying to divert the attention from herself she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, "You remembered my name."

"I have an excellent memory, no matter how much I wanted to forget it was just simply impossible to not remember your name. Just like one of those annoying songs that replay in your head all day that you can't get rid of." He seemed to know what she was up to and was unimpressed by her terrible attempt at a change of subject.

She smiled up at him nervously, even though she wasn't entirely sure if it was a joke or not, "I wish I could say the same but I'm afraid you never told me your name, although I do remember you saying that if we met again you would tell me."

"And I distinctly remember saying that 'maybe I'll tell you', I never actually said anything but telling you my name for sure." He used a finger to tap is head, "As I said earlier, I have an amazing memory, unlike yours apparently."

Honestly, she should be furious with him, she knew she should at this point. No matter how much she kept telling herself that this whole situation was her fault it was has fault too, but he just had this way of distracting her and she forgot to stay mad with him. Like right now her mind turned from her anger and focused on the fact that she didn't know his name, and that she still, after everything, wanted to know it. "Please tell me?" Her eyes were large and hopeful, after all he didn't say he wouldn't tell her. Just that he had only said he might tell her.

"No."

"Then would you at least tell me exactly why and how you've become some sort of gang leader." She was brave enough to ask him that but she couldn't quite bring herself to ask him why they were so afraid of him. Exactly what did he do to instill that fear and why wasn't she scared? She should be more scared right now than she was with the other three but she wasn't.

"It's none of your business." His tone brooked no argument, and his face told her that he would not answer any of her inquiries on the matter, "Always the curious one aren't you. I wonder, just what exactly were you doing at a gas station so late at night. Was it really just for a snack?" A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, "Oh what am I going to do with you."

"Are you going to kill me?" She asked calmly, seemingly uncaring that if he decided to answer yes then she would die.

He looked down at her, studying her face intently as if he were searching for something. He must have found what he was looking for because he looked very satisfied with himself, "You know, Hermione, I'm very good at covering my tracks. If you were to tell anyone about anything that happened tonight they would never be able to trace it back to me."

"I wouldn't tell anyone." She promised, noticing the way he had worded his statement. If she had a chance to tell someone that meant she had to be alive to do it.

"That's my good girl." He patted her on the head as if she were a little child, or perhaps a pet, "Because I would hate to have to punish you. Tell me, do your parents still happen to work on 5th Avenue? What was the name of that place again, G & G Dentistry?"

"How long?" She asked him in shock, knowing that he knew what she was asking. At this point there was no need to elaborate, they were both after all very intelligent, if young, individuals.

"Do you remember the second time we met, you were on a class field trip at that Haunted Museum Exhibit?" When she nodded he continued, "Well everyone in your class was wearing name tags, even you." He gave her head another pet, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in mock affection, "And then I remembered the first time we met you so happily told me about how both your parents were dentists. Do you know how many dentists with the last name Granger there are in this area?" Of course he never expected her to actually answer his question.

"So you knew who I was and still didn't want to talk to me." Really that shouldn't have been the point she was focusing on, and she shouldn't have been surprised since the first time they met he had shown nothing but dislike towards ger. Yet why sis she feel so hurt by what she already knew instead of being angry at the fact that not only did he stalk her but he was now threatening her. Was she really the idiot he thought her to be?

She suddenly felt disgusted with herself, this wasn't her. He was telling her that he would hurt if not kill her parents without a second thought, and she was worried because he didn't like her? She was sick. She shouldn't even care, or want to know what his stupid name was.

With a new resolve she decided in that moment that she didn't care and that she never wanted to see him again. They would part tonight with their agreement and that would be the end of it. Hermione would try to completely erase him from her mind, not even allowing him to remain nothing but an unpleasant memory.

"Can I go now?" She asked, her voice unwavering and as emotionless as she could make it, it seemed she hadn't quite mastered the skill to be a heartless monster. Shame she couldn't take lessons from one now since she had decided to cast him out of her life.

"I don't care, do whatever you want. Just remember what I said." He said nonchalantly, turning and leaving her alone in the hallway.

Without glancing back Hermione turned the flaking metal doorknob and opened the door, happy to see that the three men were long gone. She was able to walk to a bus station and make her way home, thankful that nobody had thought to take her wallet, and was able to sneak back into her house before her parents woke up.