September 1997

She still wasn't sure what sort of strings Auror Tonks had to pull to let Chessie take Rose with her when she checked out, but she was glad they were together. Rose had nowhere to go, except with her former baby sitter. Her mother was dead, killed mercilessly by Greyback, her father was who knew where. Her witch aunt had been notified but refused to take the girl in. The wizard grandfather, as it turned out, was dead. So that left Chessie, who was more than willing.

They were sitting on the stoop of a low-income complex in the Tower Heights neighborhood of London enjoying the weather while Chessie idly went over finances, figuring out how much money she had and how much more she needed but didn't have. Her bank account wasn't that bad, it was enough to support her for about six months if she'd lost her job for some unaccountable reason- but it wasn't enough to support a child as well for very long at all. She hadn't accounted for the possibility of supporting a child at nineteen years old, despite her fantasies of having a child. The Ministry had seized her house in some loophole in a law three weeks ago while she'd been in the hospital, and Tonks and a few other Aurors were trying to get it back to her but it was looking like it was going to be a long process, with the Ministry taken over by the Dark Lord's forces. Whoever was running the Ministry right now was clearly not a fan of werewolves.

This part of town wasn't that bad, overall. However, a gang seemed to run these few streets, because no one was out after sunset. Ever. A few days ago, an elderly muggle woman had actually pulled Chessie and Rose off the street and wouldn't let them go until dawn, because it was too dangerous. They'd gotten two good meals and baths out of the process, and Chessie got to do the pitiful briefcase-full of laundry the two had combined. In return, she had helped the woman clean her flat and do some of her finances. She'd always had a head for money, and it was easy enough to help the woman discover she had thirty more pounds than she'd thought, which in this neighborhood was quite a bit of money. She gave Chessie four pounds and told her to get Rose something sweet one day soon right before they left. She hadn't asked where they had been staying, and Chessie hadn't volunteered the information that they were staying in a broken telephone booth that had been discovered on its side in an alley. Overall, the only pleasant night they'd had in the past three weeks, since being released from St. Mungo's.

Today was a close second though. Rose was happily working on a vanilla ice cream cone on the concrete railing beside Chessie, swinging her legs and watching people hurry by in a frayed dress and sandals, her golden hair pulled back in a ponytail and glasses perched on her nose. Chessie was in jeans, old tennis shoes, and a dark blue t-shirt, and her frazzled hair was straining the tie holding it back at the nape of her neck. She had been reviewing the map she had stolen of London's boroughs, trying to decide where the two of them should go next.

A shadow appeared over the map in Chessie's hands. She looked up through her eyelashes at some bulky men on the sidewalk in front of her. They were both rather large and unkempt, built like mountains. They wore worn-out, scuffed up leather jackets and dark sunglasses and the smaller of the two was still well larger than an average man. They were clearly bad people, and even at a meter distant, Chessie could smell that they clearly hadn't bathed recently. The larger-though not by much- glanced at Rose, who had paused in her ice cream and was silently waiting for Chessie to tell her to run or scream or do anything.

"What are you doing here?" The larger stranger asked in a ragged low bass. Chessie's wolf instinct- that's what she'd decided it was not long after her talk with Tonks and Lupin- prickled at the back of her neck.

Ah, more werewolves. What fun.

She stood up and after motioning at Rose to stay right there (a secret code meaning, "if you get the second signal we discussed, drop everything and run and I'll find you as soon as I can."), and stood on the bottom step of the stoop. The men still stood almost a foot taller than her.

"What do you want?" Chessie asked bluntly. There was no need to pretend that they were good news. Not with some of the stories the neighborhood juveniles told. Plus, her little-wolf voice was throwing a small fit. It loved the way these guys felt, dangerous and wild. The sullen Slytherin in Chessie, buried as it was, simply replied 'no' and her mind was under her complete control again.

The smaller giant man grinned, showing teeth that were slightly fanged and made Chessie wonder what other evidence of being a werewolf he had. The sunglasses themselves were too dark to see through even remotely but she suspected that his eyes were full of the same feral malice she had seen in Greyback's that night not long ago.

"Why, Greyback's been lookin' for the girl who tried to stop him. 'E's got a bit of a score to settle with her." He said maliciously.

"Good luck finding her." Chessie said without missing a beat, "I have to go."

Behind her, Rose finished her cone and, licking her pale fingers, began gathering Chessie's pocket-sized finance book and the briefcase up, ready to start running. Chessie started to turn away, but the larger werewolf grabbed her arm roughly.

"I don't think you understand the situation properly, girlie. Greyback wants you. He likes a bit of spirit."

"Among other things," the other werewolf chuckled.

"I don't care!" Chessie cried, trying to yank her arm away and do too many things at once. Was anyone else on the street? Anyone large, and preferably armed? Not yet, she noticed with her peripheral vision. "I don't want to go with you, you pervert! Someone, help! He's trying to kidnap me!" She said overly loudly. Rose dropped gracefully over the edge of the concrete banister into a dead bush, where she settled in to watch the show in safety.

A man peeked his head out of a first-floor window next door. "Oi, what's going on? I can't hear my program!"

"Quite sorry, sir," the large man tightened his grip on Chessie's arm. She could feel it bruising. "Havin' a bit of a problem with the missus, that's all."

The man hanging out his window glanced at Chessie, who tried to look as scared as possible. It wasn't hard. He thought for a minute, then shut his window and opened his door.

"It looks like she doesn't want to go with you, sir."

Chessie shook her head frantically. Help me, she tried to tell him mentally. It may have worked, somehow. He blinked rapidly and frowned a little.

"Maybe you should let her go, sir. I think you're hurting her arm there."

"And maybe you should go back inside, you little twit!" the smaller werewolf snarled, clearly not interested in presenting a front. The man glanced at Chessie in concern, but returned into his house, locking the door behind him.

Bloody muggles.

Rose discovered, while hidden in her bush beside the stoop, a bouncy ball in the old briefcase Chessie carried their stuff in. She took aim carefully, knowing in her six-year-old mind- almost seven-year-old mind- that one shot was all she was going to get, and if she missed, they would hurt Chessie so much more and find her as well. She remembered the giant, wolf-shaped shadow that came through her bedroom window and caused all of this to happen.

So the pink bouncy ball caught the burly werewolf trying to drag Chessie away by her bicep completely by surprise. His dark sunglasses flew off, revealing heavy brows over crazed eyes. Chessie took the opportunity to use her free arm to jab her thumb into one of his scary eyes, distracting him enough to slip out of his grip and dodge the other wolf before they had time to react.

"Run!" she shouted as she ran past the bush, where Rose jumped out with the briefcase and tried her best to keep up with Chessie's fast pace. They were heading straight into the heart of London, where there were crowds and everything smelled different yet blended together to make tracking impossible. It was the stink of duplicity, a thousand different scent trails leading to a thousand different destinations.

They didn't stop running for easily fifteen minutes, to the point that Rose was barely breathing from panting so hard and Chessie, who was one of nature's runners, was even slightly out of breath.

"The slums: bad idea," She managed to gasp out, hands on knees as she stood and gasped. "From now on we stay in the wizarding world, okay?"

Rose was doubled over taking deep breaths as well, the briefcase of their worldly possessions on the ground beside her. "Okay." She was silent for a few minutes, thinking. "What's a wizarding world?"

Oh yeah, Chessie realized, eyes widening. Bugger. Rose was a muggle.