6. Olives and pork scratchings

Siria patted her pocket as they stepped off the bus. It clinked, but only a little. One more bus trip and they would be out of muggle money - and they hadn't even reached Scotland yet.

With Remy carrying a sleeping Harriet, Siria glanced around the square where they had been dropped in the city centre. A cheerful crowd spilled out of a pub, their shouts not quite overpowering the football commentary from inside. A gaggle of teenagers whooped as they slid across railings and over benches on skateboards. Spotting a likely-looking B&B with a flickering light, she headed down a side street towards it.

"How many more bus rides?" she asked Remy, skirting around the skateboarders' domain. Until now, she had only ever apparated or flooed or driven her bike through the skies. That was probably in the Ministry's hands by now... but it would have been too obvious anyway. Even so, she missed it every day she sat on a crowded bus with wrinkled, over-perfumed ladies and teenage boys who had never been taught the use of a bath.

"Two days, I think."

Siria sighed as she stepped through the entrance of the B&B, holding the door open for Remy. The sign above reception had already confirmed her fears that a room would take the rest of the money.

"Can we get a room?"

The girl behind the desk didn't look up as she pulled a thick open book towards her.

"Only got a double."

Siria avoided Remy's gaze as she nodded.

"And a cot?"

The girl pointed across reception at an open storage cupboard holding collapsible cots, highchairs and brooms.

"Thi rty quid."

Siria pulled out the crumpled pieces of paper that muggles used for money along with the coins and squinted. The paper was more than the coins... ten was purple? No, that was twenty...

"You foreign or sommat?"

The girl scooped all the notes out of Siria's hands then picked out all but a few of the coins, shaking her head. She passed over a key and went back to flicking through a magazine. Too tired to even bother rolling her eyes, Siria turned back to Remy and walked past her to grab a yellowing cot. She checked the key number - 18 - and headed up the stairs. A man bumped into her at the stop of the steps and stumbled back.

"Sorry, so-"

His eyes widened and he stepped back again, looking between Siria, Remy and Harriet. This time Siria did roll her eyes and stepped around him. Muggles could be as close-minded as the wizarding world about certain things. She shoved the key into the lock and wiggled until it clicked. The man was still staring when Remy followed and Siria slammed the door after her.

Remy slumped down on the only bed and Siria dumped the cot on the floor, kneeling to shake at the hinges. Something snapped and she froze, eyes roaming the plastic for where it had broken.

"Fuck!"

A gentle hand pressed into her shoulder. Siria dropped the cot on the floor and squeezed her eyes shut.

"It's okay, Siria. She can sleep on the bed with us. Look, she already is."

Siria shuffled around where she sat. Harriet lay on her back, her eyebrows furrowed but minute snores escaping her lips. Siria lifted one hand to stroke her tiny cheek – but Harriet frowned. She wiggled and her eyes snapped open. She opened her mouth and screamed.

"No, Harriet, come on… shh, go back to sleep," Siria begged.

Harriet screamed louder, kicking feet and raising fists. She rolled over and Remy grabbed her before she could tumble off the bed.

"She's probably hungry," Remy said, scooping Harriet into her arms and running a hand through her hair.

Siria fished in her pockets again but could only produce a couple of strips of chewing gum from amongst the coins.

"I'll go find something. I'll be back in five."

Remy nodded, so Siria picked up the key from where she had dropped it and slipped out of the room, hurrying down the creaky stairs. The girl at reception had vanished, so she walked straight out of the door. There was a supermarket next door, with dimmed lights and locked doors. She walked across the street to the pub.

The crowd outside had turned sour. They hollered insults to the stars about the referee and the other team and their own players. Siria was buffeted from side to side as she struggled through them to the door, but inside was no better. The after-match commentary bellowed out of speakers and the blue light from the TV flickered across a sea of angry faces. She struggled through them, elbowing and pushing. More than one beer splattered across her feet but she held her tongue. Get to the bar, get food, get back to Remy and Harriet. They were all that mattered. Someone knocked into her and she lurched forward, slamming into the wooden ledge of the bar.

"Well hello lady. What'sya name?"

A bearded man on the right leered in, pushing a beer at her.

"Not here to drink."

"Not here to – not here to drink?! You's in the wrong place then lady."

"Yeah, thanks." She tried to catch the eye of the barman.

"Well, just so's you know, I think you's a pretty lady. So pretty they should name a star after you. Wait, no – no, not a star. A star's not good enough. They should name a beer after you!"

He guffawed at his own joke. Siria eyed the clock above the bar. It had been longer than five minutes. Finally the barman appeared.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, olives? And two packets of crisps. And some pork scratchings."

The barman lifted one wild eyebrow but nodded, turning to grab the snacks and dump them in front of her.

"Anythin' to drink?"

"No."

She dropped the remaining coins on the bar. The barman shook his head and scooped up all but two. Siria grabbed the snacks and turned to leave.

"Wait, wait, you goin' already? Why don't you have a beer? Beer is good f'you," her drunken neighbour said.

She stepped around him and pushed her way back out of the pub. The skateboarders were gone and she jogged across the square back to the B&B. She had been gone too long. Just a few minutes without Remy and Harriet in her sight made her nervous. The stairs creaked under her feet as she took them two at a time. She stuck the key in the lock and turned – but it was already unlocked.

Had she forgotten to lock it on her way out?

She pushed it open.

Remy lay on the floor, frozen solid. Harriet was nowhere to be seen.

Sorry it's been a while! I got sidetracked by Christmas and New Year... About a third of the way through at this point, hope ya'll are enjoying :)