Hello Everyone. It's me again. I'm still haveing computer issues, hence the two weeks it took to get this posted. Much better then last time though. That's something to be cheerful about, right?

I just wanted to say another thank you to everyone who wrote me. It really does mean a lot.

Anyway, I don't want to ramble on again like I did last time. I'll just let you get to it. I hope you all enjoy this. Let me know what you think. I'm a little worried, but then again I always am. Happy Reading, Noterwomann

Chapter Twenty Five: She's Damned Herself

The pub was surprisingly dim, all the lamps turned low and the fire banked, so it took two scans of the room before Parker spotted the vibrant red hair he was looking for, sitting alone in a stall in the back corner.

Pulling his traveling cloak off his shoulders, he worked his way through the crowd, slipping onto the bench across from Ron.

"Is everything taken care of?" Ron asked looking over his mug of firewhiskey.

Parker nodded once. "Stone and Banning arrived at the Ministry early this morning. They filled the necessary documents with the right people." He arched a brow deliberately.

"Good. Any idea how long until we can extradite?"

Parker's face fell, his lips slipping into an unhappy grimace. "It could be a while." He said slowly.

Ron frowned. "Explain."

"Unfortunately," Parker sighed, "There's been some changes in the Ministry since we left."

"We've only been gone a few days. What kind of changes could they possibly have made?" Ron asked incredulously.

Parker rubbed wearily at his temples. "The scrambling kind." He lowered his hands. "You already know we're down an Official. Obviously Ceemist can't leave the safe house until we have all of this taken care."

Ron nodded. "Yes and?"

"His work load is being divided between the other Officials, so they're taking longer to go through their cases."

"Honestly, how long does it take to sign a few documents?"

"That's not the issue, Ron." There was a hint of anger to Parker's voice. "The issue is that it's going to take some time before the files even land on an Official's desk. The law office hired someone to replace Hermione," He paused to see if there would be some kind of reaction on Ron's part. He was slightly surprised to see that there was none. "So," he said slowly, "on top of training their new employee, who can't even come close to matching Hermione for efficiency, they're also having to review old cases because of what happened with Ceemist."

"Why? What reason could they have…"

"Almost every case of the past five years is being contested. If Ceemist could be bought or threatened, how many others have? Like I said," he bowed his head. "It could take a while."

"Fantastic." Ron slumped in his seat. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear." His hand smacked down on the table. "So what? Are we supposed to wait here, twiddling our thumbs, while they try and reorganize? Do they think we have time to waist playing nanny?"

"I don't think we're top priority."

"Of course not." Ron finished off the last of his drink. "Why would we be? It's not like we risk life and limb for the Ministry every other day." His mug came down on the table with a loud thud.

"Ron," Parker said in a low voice. "Calm down. We have them in custody."

"So?" He snarled. "What has that to do with anything?"

"It's over." Parker nodded. "Blake is safe."

"Blake isn't safe." Ron hissed. "Blake is gone. No one knows where she is." He pushed his mug away angrily. "And why do you all act like she's on holiday? Like's she's only gone for a little while and she's coming back? She's not. She's gone. She's gone, Parker. And she's not coming back. So I really wish you would all stop pretending that everything is going to be fine. It's not."

"You don't know that."

"And you do?" Ron laughed humorlessly. "Please, tell me what you know that I don't." He lifted his hand and caught the attention of a server. He pointed at his empty mug, than held up two fingers. The man nodded that he understood.

Parker leaned forward. "There's still a chance that we..." He murmured.

"How hard is it, do you think, to learn Russian?" Ron asked, ignoring him.

"Why?" Parker was surprised into asking.

Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "This is an interesting city. Maybe I'll stay here for a while." He nodded his thanks when the sever set two filled mugs on the table. "Explore a little."

"What are you talking about?" Parker's eyes narrowed on the redhead. "You hate Eastern Europe."

Ron shrugged again, dismissively. "Perhaps I haven't given it enough of a chance. Or maybe I'll go to America. I've never been there."

"And what would you do in America?"

"It's a big country. It would take me a long time to visit all fifty states. There are fifty, aren't there? Or is it fifty-two?...No." He shook his head. "Fifty. Fifty-two is a deck of cards."

"You're running away." It was an accusation.

"I'm not running away." He said firmly, holding Parker's gaze. "Besides, what reason do I have to go back? There's nothing left for me in England."

"You have everything left. You have a baby girl and a woman who loves you."

Ron started shaking his head almost as soon as Parker started speaking. "No." He objected. "I don't. Blake is gone. I never had Hermione. You've proven you can do my job just as well as I can. Now that we've got the Javeds there's no reason for me to stay."

Parker stared at him, his mind numb with shock. "Where is this coming from?" He managed to stutter.

"I've been thinking about this for some time."

"No. You haven't."

"What? Can you read my mind now?"

"Ron,"

"Why are you so upset anyway?" the redhead threw up his hands. "With me out of the way you'll be first in line to replace me as Captain."

"I don't want to be Captain." Parker snapped. "And you don't want to quit."

Ron shifted his eyes off of his mate and too the amber liquid he lazily swirled around in his glass.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ron turned his face, giving Parker his profile. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a strong pull.

Parker leaned a little closer, his eyes narrowing keenly. "There's something going on here. You were fine a few days ago."

"I wasn't fine." Ron spat out the word like it was vile tasting.

"You weren't talking about quitting either."

Ron set down his mug and hid his face in his massive hands. "Not quitting. Resigning."

"It's the same thing and you know it." Parker paused a moment, lowering his head, to compose himself. "This is about Hermione, isn't it?"

"This has nothing to do with her."

"Of course it does." Parker sat back. "I know you two are having…issues. You had to use my name to see her."

"So? What is that supposed to prove?"

"Whatever is going on between you two, it'll pass."

Ron looked away. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

"Do you know what irritates me about you?" Ron's head whipped around so he was looking Parker direct in the eyes. "You're just like all the other Ravenclaws. You think you're so smart." He scowled unattractively, finally at his limit. "You think you know everything. Has it ever occurred to you that for once you might be wrong? You can't get them all right, Parker. You're not perfect. No one is. No matter how much you want to believe they are."

"Ron," his voice was etched with unease, "No one's asked you to be perfect."

"It's not asked, it's demanded. You wait until you're Captain and see what it's like." Ron gulped down several mouthfuls of his firewhiskey. "Lives are on the line. You're accountable for everyone and everything. One thing goes wrong and it could mean the end. You're not allowed mistakes." He took another drink. "And I've made one too many."

Parker hesitated a moment, not sure what to say next. "Ron, whatever mistake you think you've made…"

"I don't think I've made it." Ron cut him off. "I know I have. I screwed up." Ron accented each word, surprising Parker with the intensity. "It's my fault we're here. I'm the one who mucked it all up. I'm the one who gave away our position. Don't you see? We had them surrounded. It would have been so easy to pick them off if I had just waited. Stuck to the plan. We've done this, how many times, and I make a fresher mistake? That's inexcusable."

"Ron," Parker paused, uncertain what to say. "You don't know what would have happened if you had done nothing. If you hadn't acted when you did they could have gotten away completely."

Ron was shaking his head. "You know as well as I do…"

"I don't know anything." Parker said over him. "Like you said. You can't get them all right."

Ron shook his head morosely from side to side. "What if something had happened? What if somebody died?"

"No one did."

"But they could have." He said firmly. "I deviated from protocol. It's my fault Damon and Winston are hurt. If I hadn't mucked it up they wouldn't be in the hospital now." He turned his face away again. "You would all be better off without me."

"Like hell we would." Parker fumed. "You're our Captain."

"Damn it, Parker." Ron slammed his mug on the table, sloshing liquid over the rim and across the wood. "Don't you get it? I only got this job because I'm Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter!"

"No," Parker said sternly." You got this job because you're Ron Wealsey who happens to be best friends with Harry Potter. You're Captain of the Alphas because you earned, not because of who you know. If you weren't good at what you do, you'd be dead by now. And so would half the squad. You don't get promoted to Alpha Captain on a favor. Maybe Delta, or Gamma, but not Alpha. We're the best team the Ministry has, and it's because of you."

Ron's head shook slightly from side to side. "It's not…worth it anymore."

"Not worth it?" Parker's eyes blazed with sudden fury. "What's happened to you? This isn't the Ron Weasley I know. The Ron Weasley I know would never have insulted his team like that. Do you even know what we've done for you? We've been working double shifts. Taking time away from our families and our friends to help you because we thought you would do the same for us. This team is what it is because of you. And you're trying to throw it all away like it's nothing. Why? Because you feel you've been wronged? Well let me tell you something, Captain Weasley, life isn't fair. Bad things happen. Not because we deserve it or because we've done something wrong. They just do. And if you give up, call it quits because things get hard, you're not the man I thought you were."

"You don't know what I've been through."

"I think I know better then anyone what you've been through. In case you've failed to notice, I've been watching your arse since all this started. And I'll be damned before I'll let you throw it all away."

"This isn't your choice to make."

"No. It's yours. But I don't want to see you make the wrong one." He forced himself to take a calming breath. "I know things are hard on you right now, Ron. But whatever Hermione's said…"

"I don't want to talk about her." Ron snarled.

"And why not?"

"Because. She's a two-faced, lying bitch. That's why not."

Parker stiffened with surprise. "You can't mean that."

"Every word." Ron seethed.

"But… you love her. And I know she loves you."

Ron's body shook with the force of his temper. "That woman is incapable of love."

"I've seen the way she looks at you."

"And I'm the one she's rejected over and over and over again." Ron shook his head with disgust. "How can I be good enough to lead the Alphas when I'm too stupid to protect myself against her?"

"Is that what this is about?" Parker's eyes were wide with both disbelief and understanding. "You think Hermione betrayed you and…"

"Hermione did betray me."

"Ron," Parker leaned towards him across the table. "Don't do anything you'll regret."

"The only thing I regret is trusting her in the first place."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?"

Parker narrowed his eyes, calculating. "So, when Hermione comes to me, sobbing, because you've broken her heart, you won't mind if I'm the shoulder she cries on?"

Parker waited for the familiar flash of jealousy, but it didn't come. Ron's face was a frozen mask, completely devoid of emotion.

"I'm not going to start this game again." He said icily. "If you want her, you can have her."

And Parker believed him. The truth was etched there in the cold gleam of his blue eyes. In the hard edge of his chin. Whatever Hermione had done or said, Ron hated her.

"Alright." He agreed with a nod. "No more games." He could see some of the tension ease from his friend's shoulders. "But Ron," He persisted. "Please don't quit. If you need some time off, go ahead. Take it. Take all the time you need. Just don't quit. Don't throw away your career."

"Parker I…"

He held up a hand to halt him. "Just think about it. Really think about it. And while you're at it," he lowered his hand, "remember, this case wasn't assigned to the Alphas by the Ministry. We're all here because it's important to you. That has to mean something, doesn't it?" Ron opened his mouth to speak but Parker waved him off. "Just think about it." He insisted. "You don't have to make any decisions today."

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Who would have thought Fred Weasley, mad man on a broom, would be terrified of a two hour flight in an airplane. From the moment the plane left the runway Fred had been as still as a statue, fingers gripping the arm rest until the knuckles were bone white, body pressed back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut. Harry had tried to use a charm to relax him, but it hadn't worked. Not effectively at least.

"I don't know why we couldn't just take a portkey." Fred moaned for what felt like the hundredth time. The pressure in the cabin shifted as the plane began its decent. Fred's fingers curled even tighter.

"Because," Harry hissed through his teeth, "The Ministry won't think to track us this way."

"I don't like this." Fred moaned as his ears popped. "This isn't natural."

"Come now. Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

"Back in England."

The plane seemed to speed up as it drew closer to the ground. Fred braced himself, convinced the Muggle contraption was going to crash. He yelped with fear as the wheels touched ground, forcing Harry to stifle his laughter.

"See," Harry said, nudging him playfully as the plane began taxing to the gate. "That wasn't so bad."

Fred remained pressed against his seat, eyes shut tight, skin an unhealthy pallor. "I think I'm going to be sick." A woman across the aisle from them shifted away, her face scrunched with disgust.

"Just take a few slow breaths." Harry instructed. "In through your mouth. Out through your nose." He reached into the pocket in front of him and pulled out the sick bag. He shook it open and placed it in Fred's hand. "In case you need it."

Fred cracked open an eye. "If you tell anyone about this…"

"I wouldn't dare." Harry assured him. "I value my life far too much," he said jovially.

"Good." Fred took another breath.

The plane eased to a stop and the passengers who hadn't already disobeyed the flight crew unfastened their lap belts. The aisle filled with bodies and people collided as some tried to move towards the exit while others tried to retrieve their luggage from the overhead bins.

"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked as the aisle began to clear.

Fred nodded. "I don't like flying this way."

Harry chuckled. "I could tell." He unclasped his lap belt as the last of the passengers moved past their seats. "It's time to go."

Fred stuffed the sick bag back in the pouch before he unlatched himself. He hurried off the plane, no doubt terrified it would take off again with him still on it, leaving Harry to grab both of their luggage.

Fred was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge. Harry handed him his bag and nodded for him to follow. "Alright," He said as they drew closer to customs. "When they ask the reason for your visit, you tell them you're here on holiday. Do you have that?"

"I'm here on holiday." Fred repeated.

"And if they ask for how long, you answer three days."

"I'm here on holiday. Three days." Fred nodded. "Got it."

It took them twenty minutes to make there way through the queue; all the while Fred repeated Harry's instructions over and over to himself under his breath like a mantra.

"Relax Fred," Harry said when it was his turn. "Muggles do this all the time. You'll be fine."

Harry made his way through passport control without any hassle. He was at the window and through before Fred could take in what was happening. He on the other hand was nearly pulled away when he responded to the inspectors greeting with "I'm here on holiday. Three days." In one frazzled breath.

With a little bit of spell work on Harry's part Fred was through and Harry was towing him toward the exit. "Smooth Fred, very smooth."

"I warned you I wasn't any good at this."

"Yeah," Harry said as he led Fred to the nearest empty cab. "You did." He opened the door and waited for Fred to climb inside.

"?A donde quieren ir ustedes?" The driver asked as Harry closed the door.

"What's the address?"

"Er…" Fred closed his eyes as he quickly searched his memory. "Calle de Atocha numero 62."

"Esta bien." The squat man behind the wheel nodded once before pulling smoothly into traffic.

"So," Fred pushed his hair back out of his face, "Explain this to me again."

Harry turned to give him his full attention.

"If it's not safe to bring Blake back to England, why are we looking for her now? Shouldn't we wait until it is safe?"

"What if we were wrong and Blake isn't here?" Harry asked in return. "If we wait until it's safe to bring her home we'll have wasted time we could have used to search for her."

"I still don't understand why it's not safe."

"As far as I can figure, Hermione kidnapped Blake and placed her with Beila to protect her from the Javeds. As long as they have custody we can't protect her." He faced forward. "We have to be certain that Ron has custody before we bring her home. Or at least that they no loner do. Otherwise everything Hermione's sacrificed will have been for nothing."

Fred watched Harry intently from the corner of his eye. "It's hard, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry slumped wearily in the seat.

"Both wanting and not wanting to find Blake."

"Of course I want to find Blake." Harry stiffened. "What a stupid thing to say."

"I know that." Fred assured him. "But at the same time, if we do find Blake here that means Hermione's guilty. That means she's going to be sentenced to Azkaban."

Harry let out a slow breath. "I'll handle that when the time comes." He pushed his fingers through his hair. "There's nothing I can do for her right now. So I'm just going to focus on finding Blake, getting home and making sure Ron doesn't lose his mind."

"Are you certain he hasn't already lost it?"

Harry made a ticking sound with his lips. "I'm not certain of anything anymore."

The two men fell silent then. There was nothing more to be said. Both were anxious and tired and a little frazzled. It was no small thing to fly to Spain on a hunch with no assurance that the person they were looking for would be home or worse, wouldn't disappear when they came to the door. Of course, Harry thought as her glanced over at Fred, it was doubly worse for him.

Unlike Harry, who was only there to find their niece, Fred was there to confront the woman who had cut him out of her life so abruptly. Knocking on Beila's door like this, unannounced, had the potential to be very mortifying for Fred if she had stopped contacting him because she no longer wanted to see him and not because she was trying to hide his brother's kidnapped child. Of course, bearing that in mind, it was undoubtedly going to be an awkward reunion for Fred no matter what.

Attempting to relieve some of the tension in his neck, Harry rolled his head to the side and stopped, his attention caught by the world flying past his window. Madrid was so different then the cities he was used to. It was so vibrant and colorful. The buildings were painted with warm, vivid colours, faded from the sun into more muted tones. Even the sky was brighter then England's, with a blue as warm as a precious stone instead of the murky, overcast grey he was use to.

It felt almost wrong to be anything but happy when the air was so warm and the sun was so bright. It was little wonder that Hermione had fled here five years ago. It was now even easier to understand why she had stayed away for so long. Without even being a part of it he could imagine the life of the city could be intoxicating.

"Estamos aqui. Ocho euros, por favor."

Harry counted out the toll plus a little extra and passed it to the cabbie while Fred climbed out. The redhead stood on the sidewalk staring at the small house. Like the rest of the city it was alive with colours. Flowers filled every available space of the garden. Blossoms exploded in a riot of shades and hues along the walk. Vines hung from the window boxes in brilliant curtains.

"Are you ready for this?" Harry asked, stepping up beside his brother-in-law and handing him his bag.

Harry watched Fred out of the corner of his eye. He could see the panic begin take him over. "I don't know if this is a good idea." He took a step back just as the cab pulled away. "I think I'll just go home."

"Fred." Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him from retreating any farther. "You've come a long way to back out without speaking to her."

"I've tried talking to her." He took another step. "If she wanted to talk to me she would have answered one of my owls."

Harry pushed him towards the house. "There's only one way to find out."

"I…" He stared longingly toward the door, his face riot with indecision.

"I think you'll regret it if you don't try at least one more time. Come on Fred," he nudged him. "What more do you have to lose."

Fred's lips turned down in a frown. "It's so easy for you, Harry." He turned his head towards his brother-in-law. "You know Ginny loves you."

"It's not easy." Harry turned fully toward him. "Gin and I have problems."

"But you know she loves you." Fred insisted.

"I didn't always know that."

"Please." Fred snorted. "She's loved you forever."

"A childhood crush. Besides, by the time I realized how I felt about her she moved on. She gave up on me, remember? My sixth year? She was dating Dean Thomas. Not to mention the added turmoil of her being Ron's little sister. If we had gotten together and things went badly…" He didn't have to finish. They both knew what would have happened if things had gone sour. "I was terrified." He admitted. "But look at what I would have lost if I hadn't taken a chance. I wouldn't have Si or Bryony. I can't imagine my life without them, or Ginny."

"So, what you're saying is…"

"You really like this girl. I can tell. But if you don't go up there and knock on that door," he pointed towards the quaint house, "you'll never know how she feels about you. You'll lose her, and who knows what else."

Fred was quiet for a moment before his lips turned up in a familiar half smile. "Right now you sound like my dad when he gets up the courage to have a heart to heart with one of us."

Harry's face broke into a genuine smile. "I couldn't think of a better man to be compared to."

"You know, Harry," Fred tossed his bag over his shoulder as he walked past and up the path to the front door. "You turned into a bit of a pansy after the war." He looked back over his other shoulder. "Or perhaps it's just my sister's influence."

Harry shook his head with laughter. "Better men than you have accused me of worse."

Fred turned back to the door and not giving himself a chance to loose his nerve, rapped the knocker several times before letting it fall into place.

"Estoy viniendo." A voice called brightly from the other side of the door.

Metal grated moments later as the bolt shifted from its latch. There was a click and the door opened. "Puedo ayudarle…" She stuttered to a stop. "Fred?" Beila's face lit up. She stepped towards him, her eyes quickly taking him all in. She took another small step, eyes fixed on his face. She lifted her hand, reaching toward him, but stopped just before the tips of her fingers touched his face. She curled them away from him into a fist. She lowered her hand. "Why are you here?" She glanced over his shoulder to where Harry was standing just behind him. "You should not be here." She hissed. "Go home."

When Fred didn't respond Harry maneuvered around him. He held out his hand. "It's so nice to see you again, Beila. How are you?"

Beila took his hand. Eyes wide with panic, she rose onto her toes trying to look around the two men. "What is this about?" She whispered, leaning in. Her eyes drifted to Fred. "Where is Hermione? Did she not come?"

"No one told you?" Harry asked, releasing her hand.

"Told me what?" She pulled her eyes away from Fred. "What has happened to Mio?"

Harry took a step towards her. "Why don't we go inside?" He looked back over his shoulder, scanning the street behind them. "I'll explain everything. Inside."

Beila's hand tightened on the door. He could see her throat working to swallow. "I do not think this is a good idea." She pulled the door closer to the frame.

"Beila," Harry put his hand out to stop her. "Hermione's in trouble. Please let us in."

She shook her head. "I can not."

"Beila,"

She stared at Fred pleadingly. He blinked twice and looked away. She lowered her face. "She said let no one in the house." Her voice rasped.

"I'm sorry, Beila," Harry took her by the shoulders, "but I don't care." He forcefully but gently moved her aside so that he and Fred could enter the house. He used his foot to kick the door shut once they were through. "Now, where is she?" His voice rose to be heard over the woman's desperate protests. She ignored his question; too busy yelling at him incomprehensibly. Growling with frustration he released her and turned away. Beila's voice grew louder as he began searching the house. She followed him from room to room, begging or threatening him, he didn't know which, pulling on his arm in an attempt to bring him back to the door.

Harry jerked around at the bottom of the stairs. "Is she here?" He demanded again, beginning to lose his patience.

Beila paused, her face riddled with guilt.

"She is." Harry pulled his arm free to take hers. "Take me to her."

She shook her head desperately. "Mio said…"

"Go." Fred pried Harry's fingers off her arm. "If she's here, find her."

"Fred…" Beila turned to look up at him.

"Is this why you stopped writing me?" He asked as Harry raced up the stairs. "You were hiding her all along."

Harry stopped at the top of the stairs, right beside the first closed door on the landing. He could hear a whimper from behind the panel.

"Yes." He heard Beila admit brokenly as he pushed the door open.

There was a moments pause before, "How could you do that?"

Harry blocked out the conversation taking place behind him. All of his attention was focused on the child standing in a cot on the other side of the room. Her face was red and damp from crying. He took a step towards her. With a whimper, Blake used the back of her hand to wipe at her eyes. He stared at her, frozen, a moment longer, but when she spotted him standing across the room, and reached out for him, he was at her side in a moment, scooping her up in her arms.

"Blake," He tucked her close to his chest, rocking back and forth. He closed his eyes as he ran a soothing hand over her back. She tucked her face into his shoulder, continuing to whimper, rubbing her eyes against the soft fabric of his shirt. He swayed back and forth as almost painful relief washed over him. She was here. She was safe. All the terrible things he had imagined happening to her melted away. He could fix things now. Ron. Hermione. All of it. It would be hard, no doubt, but he could do it.

He leaned her slightly away from his body so he could see her face. He pushed her hair back out of her eyes, noticing the added length and the tips that now twisted into curls. "Your daddy is going to be so happy to see you." He kissed her brow affectionately.

"No." Harry turned, surprised to find Beila standing in the doorway, Fred just behind her. "He can not. She must be here."

"I don't think you have a say in this." Fred said bitterly, pushing past her to enter the room. "Hello princess." He held his hands out as he walked towards him, ready to greet her properly.

"I had no choice." Beila pleaded behind him. She followed Fred with her eyes as he took Blake from Harry's arms and held her at eye level. "Mio made me promise. Fred, please." Her voice cracked on the plea. She stepped towards him, hand extended. "I knew I would tell you. And I knew I could not."

Fred released Blake from his warm hug and set her securely on his hip. He turned back to Beila. "You should have told me. You should have trusted me with the truth."

"I do trust you." She reached for him. He stepped back. "Fred," She reached for him again, refusing to let go of his hand when he tugged. "Mio told me it would only be a few days." She tried to explain. "I had to keep the child safe. So she could go back to her father." She shook her head sadly. "I never thought it would be so…long." She cringed when Fred pulled his hand free.

Fred started at her blankly. He didn't know what to think any more. His thoughts were tumbling around in his head confusing him even more. He had known coming here that there was every chance that Beila was the one keeping Blake. But now that he knew it, he couldn't help but feel outraged. Both for his brother and for himself. Ron had been tormented for two weeks with the ill fate he imagined for his daughter, and here she was, safe and sound, like it was completely normal for her to be there.

He had almost convinced himself to turn and walk away, to never come back. Even if he could overlook the fact that she had played a part in his brother's torment, he didn't know if he could overlook the fact that she had kept it all from him. He had thought they were closer then that. But before he could turn and leaver her, he caught a glimpse of her eyes before they lowered to the floor. They were wet and shiny with tears. He felt his heart tighten in his chest.

"I did not know what to do." Her voice cracked. "I promised Mio." She was silent for a moment. "I promised." She hazard a look at his blank face, but turned away quickly at the harsh lines. "I missed you so much." She whispered. "I would have come to you. Soon. I would have begged you." She looked up. "Help me. She cries. She never stops. I do not know what to do."

"She misses her dad." Harry said, taking Blake back. He began pacing, adding a gentle rock top his step in an attempt to soothe the whimpering child. "She cries for everyone but him."

Beila hung her head. "Mio did not tell me that."

The group fell into silence. Harry tried murmuring to the child, but it helped little. Fred stared at Beila intently, his eyes narrowed in what Harry recognized as his thinking face. For a moment his features grew harder before they softened slightly.

He took a step towards Beila. He raised his hand, finger extended, and touched her just beneath the eye. She flinched at the contact. Fred held still for a moment then gently traced the dark circle. "You look like you haven't slept in days." Tenderness returned to his voice.

"I do not sleep." She lifted her face, seeking out Fred's eyes. "She does not sleep." She said desperately.

Her eyes drifted close as Fred continued to trace the stress lines in her face. They began to melt away under his gentle touch. "What if," he traced the back of his finger down her cheek, "I offered to stay and help you look after her?"

Beila's eyes sprung open. The joy that lit up her face at his words erased the tired pallor that clung to her cheeks. It was gone almost as soon as it came, replaced by disappointment. "You cannot." She carefully pulled his hand away, clinging to it a moment before she let it drop.

Fred's chin stiffened as concern melted away, replaced by humiliated anger. "If you didn't want to speak to me anymore, all you had to do was say so."

"No!" Her face stretched with horror. "Fred," She reached for him, taking his face determinedly between her hands when he tried to look away. She forced his chin up until he was looking at her. "It is too dangerous." She let the fingers of her right hand slip into his hair. "I have done this. Me. You will not be in trouble, too." Her hand retraced its path to rest on his cheek.

Fred placed both of his hands over hers, holding them against his skin. "Hermione's been charged with kidnapping." Beila's eyes grew wide with shock. "Only Harry and I know you're involved." He glanced at Harry over her shoulder. "And we're not going to tell anyone." It was a warning, but Harry was already nodding with agreement. He returned his focus to the woman standing in front of him. "Blake has to stay here until things are set right at home. You can't do this on your own anymore…so I'm going to stay here with you." He tried to sound confident and ruined the affect with, "Unless you don't want me to."

She clutched him tighter. "I want you."

A warm, contented smile kicked up the corners of Fred's mouth. "Then I'll stay." He pulled her hands from his face and rested them on his chest, still holding tight to her fingers.

Beila stared at their joined hands. "Hermione said," she began tentatively; "you do not stay with girls."

Fred nodded understandingly. "Hermione's pretty smart…but she doesn't know everything." He released one of her hands to cup her cheek. He tilted her face up so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

"No?"

"No." It was a promise.

Feeling more then a little uncomfortable at being witness to their reunion, Harry turned away. He had never seen Fred look at anyone that way before. And, if he were being honest, he never would have believed Fred was capable of such emotion. Or such sappiness. If it wasn't such a tender moment he'd take the piss out of him for being a nancy.

"Look," Harry turned back to the couple. "I think I'll take Blake here for a walk. Give you two some time alone."

Beila finally looked away from Fred. Concern was back in her eyes. "Is it safe?"

Harry shifted Blake so that she was snuggled higher against his chest, her face pressed into his neck once again. "No one knows we're here."

"No one followed you?"

"No. We can't be traced either. We came the Muggle way."

Beila visibly relaxed. "You think the same as Mio."

"That's how you got out of the country without anyone taking notice?"

She nodded. "Mio said they would not look for us the Muggle way."

"Hmm," Harry grunted. "Well, once this is all over I'll make sure to change that. I hate to think how many cases are still open because the Ministry was too arrogant to look at Muggle transportation as a way to escape." He shifted his weight to the other foot. "I think she's grown."

Beila crossed to them. She ran her fingers through the soft strands of Blake's hair. "She has not changed so much."

"You've had her for two weeks." Harry pointed out. "Ron hasn't seen her in nearly a month. He'll notice every change."

Fred joined them near the cot. He slipped his arm around Beila's waist and pulled her in next to him. "Then you better find a way to bring her home. Before she changes anymore."

"How long will you stay?" Beila asked.

"I'm set to return Sunday."

"Why so long?"

"It would be more suspicious if I only flew to Spain for one day." He explained. "At least now it looks like I was here on business. But you, you look like you need a few days off. Is there a bag I can use to carry some of her things?"

"No." She snatched the child out of Harry's arms, setting her to crying again. "She will stay here."

"You can trust me." Harry assured her.

"Yes I know." She rolled her eyes. "But she will stay here. It is not safe to leave the house. You know this." She shook her head. "Mio said you were smart. No." She said again. "You will stay here. Blake does not leave."

"Alright." Harry conceded, holding up his hands in surrender. He could tell Beila was not going to let Blake leave the house without a fight and he didn't have the energy, "We'll stay here."

"Mio had me promise." She said sympathetically.

"I understand." Harry assured her. "Hermione puts a lot of store in promises."

"SÍ." She cradled Blake close. "Mio promised her Ron, I promised her."

Both Fred's and Harry's eyes narrowed. "What did Hermione promise Ron?" The redhead asked for them both.

"She would not let the…" She closed her eyes as she tried to remember the right words, "the…Death Eaters? She would not let the Death Eaters touch his Blake. That is why she is here. Mio did not think she would lose. But she made me promise. If she lost, I would bring Blake here. Mio promised she would come when it was safe. She could not let them hurt her Ron's bebita."

"You were defiantly right, Harry." Fred turned to him. "About everything."

"Yeah, I guess."

"She really does think of everything."

"Not everything." Harry disagreed. "As far as I can see she hasn't thought of a way out of this one." He placed a hand on Blake's back. "She might have saved Blake, but she's damned herself."

"Is it really necessary to keep her in one of the high security cells? She's not a Death Eater. She hasn't killed anyone."

"As far as you know?" Jillian Oldham stopped to look at the Azkaban guard. "Do you know what she's done with that child? Do you know she hasn't harmed her? My team has been scouring the country looking for her, and we've found nothing. You know the statistics, Peel. Chances are when we do find her, it won't be alive."

"Oh please." He rolled his eyes. "Hermione Granger isn't capable of hurting anyone."

Jillian sneered at him with disgust. "Don't tell me you've been taking in by the Golden Trio." She ran a finger along the spine of the chameleon Patronus that sat on her shoulder and curled around her neck. "They're just as capable of causing pain as everyone else. I'd go so far as to say they're more capable. Especially that one." She nodded her head down the hall. "I'm sure she's picked up a few extra tricks from those books she reads."

"She's not dangerous." Thomas Peel crouched down by the silver Great Dane that hovered close to his knees. He whispered instructions in the dog's ear before sending him off. He watched him gallop down the hall then slip easily through the door to one of the cells. He stood from the crouch. "She doesn't belong here. You know it as well as I do."

"I know nothing of the sort." She dismissed flippantly.

"Come on." He said sharply. "She's not like the others. She's polite. She's orderly. She doesn't beg us for her freedom. She doesn't…offer…us…anything…for an easier time. I don't think she's guilty of anything more then somehow earning your displeasure."

Jillian tossed her hair to show how little she thought of Thomas's assessment. "Well fortunately it's not your job to decide. It's your job to keep her here, under Ministry custody. Now, take me to her. I have other things to do today."

Sighing heavily, Thomas turned and continued down the hall. He couldn't understand Captain Oldham and her strange behavior toward Hermione Granger. There was nothing remotely dangerous about her. She didn't need a full escort when she was being transported from the Ministry anymore then she required constant Dementor supervision now. There was no risk of her attacking any guards or attempting to escape. She wasn't dangerous in anyway. Whatever reason Jillian Oldham had for placing Demntors outside Hermione's cell it wasn't to protect others from her. To him it almost seemed Captain Oldham had placed them there to destroy her. Well, if destruction was Captain Oldham's goal she was definitely succeeding.

Thomas came to a stop at Hermione's holding cell. He looked in through the small, barred window. If he hadn't sent his Patronus ahead, he would have had trouble spotting her. She was on the floor, curled into a tight ball in the right back corner. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped painfully around them. Her head was bowed forward, brow resting on her knees, face hidden by the brown mass that had once been her meticulously clean hair. It stuck out from her head in gnarled clumps of knotted curls. She rocked the slightest bit forward and backward, muttering something to herself under her breath, too quiet for him to understand.

Jillian leaned forward so she could look in through the small window. She made a sound of disgust. "You've gone soft."

Thomas turned back to her, his own sneer firmly in place. "You're going to need her coherent if you expect her to answer any of your questions. From my experience, I can assure you, prisoners don't articulate well when under the constant presence of Dementors."

"Yes. I'm sure your concern is all for my benefit. You can go now." She waved him away. "And take your Patronus with you. I'm sure mine," she stroked a finger along the lizard's spine, "will be more then sufficient for the both of us."

Thomas turned back to the cell. It was clear from his expression that he was reluctant to leave Hermione alone with the Beta Captain.

Jillian nudged him aside impatiently. "I said you can go."

He shook his head at her. "Make sure you lock the door when you leave."

Jillian looked over at him, one eyebrow arched high. "I thought you said she wasn't a flight risk."

He frowned at her. "Just lock the door." He called his Patronus and it appeared through the door and galloped to his side.

Hermione bit back a cry as the Great Dane lifted its head then bolted from her. She wanted to call out to the guard, beg him to come back. But she didn't. She bit her lip and hid her face further in her legs. It was stupid of her to have let the Patronus protect her like that. It only made it harder when the Dementors returned. But it was impossible not to seek that sanctuary when it presented itself.

Hermione didn't look up when the lock turned. She ignored the door as it groaned and clanked as it opened. The hinges screamed their protest as the door swung closed.

"Good morning, Ms Granger." Hermione shuttered at the sound of the voice. "How are we today?"

Ignoring the Beta Captain, Hermione turned her head on her knee away from the voice and towards the wall.

"Not very friendly, are we?" Jillian conjured a chair and sat lightly. The chameleon unwound itself from its casters neck and crawled down her chest into her lap, where it settled and turned its eyes on Hermione, seemingly watching her.

Jillian smiled smugly. She knew from where she sat that her Patronus would protect Hermione from the Dementors affect to the point where she could answer questions, but not enough to offer her real relief.

When Hermione began to rock once again, Jillian leaned forward in her seat, taking care not to disturb her Patronus. "Are we ready to talk?" She asked in a nauseatingly sweet voice.

Hermione slowly lifted her head. She turned her face to look at Jillian. "Did you really think," she asked in a dry, scratchy voice, "that a few days in here would yield the results you want?"

The smile slid from Jillian's lips. "You're more stubborn then I gave you credit for."

"I'm stronger then you think I am." Hermione lifted her head higher. "Do you really think I would have survived all these years if I wasn't?"

Jillian lifted the chameleon back on her shoulder. "You're not as strong as you think you are. You're starting to fall apart." There was a hint of pleasure in her voice. "You'll give me exactly what I want in the end."

Hermione turned her face away.

"Do you know what I don't understand about you?" Jillian asked as she got to her feet and began a slow walk from one end of the cell to the other. "It's something I've never understood about all of you Gryffindors. It's the way you all ban together, even if it means your own downfall. Let's take you for an example." She stopped pacing to face Hermione. "You've done all this. Sacrificed everything you have, everything you've worked for, for a man who doesn't even love you." Hermione cringed, her arms tightening spastically around her knees. "Ronald Weasley doesn't love you. He doesn't care about you. He hasn't once tried to come to your aid." She took a step closer. "And Harry, he gave up on you as soon as he learned you were charged. But then again, did you really expect him to pick you over Ron? Hasn't he always picked Ron over you?"

She was standing over Hermione now, staring down at her with a mean glint in her eyes and a satisfied smile on her face. "You're a lost cause, Granger. Everyone knows it. The only one still fighting is you. You're all alone in the world. No one cares if you ever get out of here. So why make things harder on yourself?" She crouched down so she was on level with Hermione. She reached out, and with one strong hand, gripped Hermione's chin and lifted, forcing her to meet her eyes. "Tell me where the child is and I'll move you to another cell. One free of Dementors. Wouldn't you like that?"

Hermione yanked her chin free, her head nearly colliding with the wall at her back. "No you won't," she said evenly. "No matter if I tell you or not, you intend to leave me right here."

"You listen here," Jillian grasped her arm painfully and gave her a shake. "This has gone on long enough. I won't let that child suffer because of your stubbornness. Her life is at stake. You tell me where she is…"

"Or what?" Hermione tried to jerk her arm free. "You'll make my life miserable? How could you make it any more unbearable then it is?" Tears shimmered in her eyes. "Go ahead and try."

"You think this is the worse you're life can get?" Jillian straightened to her full height. "I can double the Dementor guard. Triple it. Do you know what that'll do to you? Of course you do." Jillian crooned. "You can feel it happening already. You're getting lost inside your own head. It's becoming harder to fight. Harder to find your way back." Jillian leaned close so that her mouth was right next to Hermione's ear. "Eventually it will be impossible." She whispered. "You'll be lost forever."

Hermione leaned away, her eyes closed. "He'll come for me." She whispered. "He'll save me."

"He doesn't give a shite about you."

Hermione shook her head, the sharp tiny movements almost imperceptible. "He'll come for me." She mouthed. "He'll save me."

"Well." Jillian took a step back. "It seems I've wasted both of our time coming out here today." She slowly turned and walked to the door, stretching out the time, gradually tearing away the comfort of her Patronus. "I'll let you get back to your thoughts."

The cell door screamed open and slammed shut. The lock clinked loudly as it was forced back into place. Hermione instinctively curled herself into a tighter ball. She knew the instant Oldham was out of the corridor. She could feel the Dementors swarm the hallway, taking up their posts outside her door.

Hermione bit down hard as the familiar ice plunged into her body. She fought the despair. She struggled to keep her mind light, filled with only happy thoughts. To make an internal Patronus that would protect her.

She could feel it slipping away. Her happy memories were too few or tainted with the despair that came after. "He'll save me." She moaned, rocking harder then before. "He'll come for me." Her voice cracked. It was getting harder to believe it. "He'll save me." Her hands reached up to grip her hair. "He'll come for me." But she didn't believe it. Not really. No one was coming for her. Not Ron. Not Harry. No one was trying to save her. And why would they? Ginny despised her. Harry always chose Ron. Ron…well Ron didn't love her anymore did he. To think I actually thought myself in love with you. That's what he'd said. He didn't love her. He didn't.

Tears she didn't know she had left welled in her eyes and escaped down her cheeks. "Ron." She chocked his name. "Ron, please…"

I just wanted to send a special kudos to all those who guessed early that Blake was with Beila. I don't know how many of you guessed right but it made me smile when I read the reviews of people who guessed and let me know. It made me feel like I was at least doing something right. I wonder if anyone can guess what's going to happen next.