Hermione wanted to be more shocked than she felt. Somehow, she'd ended up seventy-seven years in the past. At her feet Lisa Phillips laid sprawled unconscious on the ground. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

Merlin, how was this her life? This time she couldn't even blame anything on her walking trouble magnet of a best friend.

She fell back against the wall as a wave of nausea hit. She started to slide down the wall short of breath as all the implications flooded her brain. She didn't belong here-too many things could go wrong or be changed unintentionally. No one knew what had happened to her back home. Would they noticed she was missing or had her time come to a standstill? Was it just waiting and changing with each action Hermione made?

Hermione braced her clammy hands on her knees and dropped her head between them. She took a few deep breaths to hold off the panic creeping up on her. She knew she was boarding on hyperventilating as she tried to calm her breathing before she passed out.

How long was she trapped here? If her calculations had been correct before she would be here for quite a bit. She'd read enough to know coming back this far could be disastrous.

Once she'd figured out what to do with her would-be murderer and found a place to hide away, she'd need to work out the calculations. Mentally she ran through the numbers. Logic and problem solving soothed the panic. If the numbers were correct, it would seem the earliest, they could leave would be two years from now.

Her body felt a drain as if the time jump had fed off her magic. She wasn't powerless, but it was going to be a bit before she would feel normal. Hermione couldn't let on that she was feeling less than at her peak. With her injuries and the magical strain, she was suffering and at risk.

Hermione eyed the woman at her feet with a stony expression. Logically, she knew that she should just end Lisa Phillips and be done with it. As much as she understood that was the best option, Hermione could not bring herself to become a cold-blooded murderer. When it was a life and death situation, she'd never hesitate to defend herself, but it was something else altogether to kill her opponent when they were already incapacitated.

Besides, Hermione still needed her breathing so little mousy Lisa Phillips could explain whatever she had been trying to accomplish. She wished that her Legilimency skills were better. Hermione considered trying anyways. The woman had tried to kill her, given that, a migraine was the very least she deserved. If it scrambled Lisa's brain Hermione doubted she'd feel much regret.

The first priority was to determine what the woman had planned for this little time jump. Maybe, for once her life, Hermione was lucky and already been able to put an end to whatever plot had been happening. Doubtful, knowing her record, but Hermione could dream.

There was only one solution she could see, and it wasn't going to be fun. She'd have to find some way to make the unconscious woman talk. Details would be crucial but where the hell was she supposed to start? Letting the frustration seep out even though the women hadn't stirred Hermione threw another Stupefy before casting Petrificus Totalus for good measure.

Straightening up, Hermione took a deep breath and started to take in her surroundings in more detail. The alley they had appeared in seemed to be between two abandoned buildings. Maybe her luck wasn't that terrible. After collecting her belongings, Hermione stepped out of the alley to see where she could hide them away.

Thankfully, the area seemed to be completely empty of anyone else which was amazing considering she was fairly positive they were still in New York City. Right around the corner and to her left was door sealed with chains and a padlock. That would do for now.

With a flick of her wrist, Hermione silently and wandlessly cast Alohamora. Once the chains dropped and the door opened, she turned back to the unconscious woman. Maybe it was spiteful, but no one ever accused Hermione of being overly forgiving. She felt no remorse as she prodded the woman with her foot, probably harder than needed, just to check if she was still out.

Deciding that Lisa wasn't stirring yet, Hermione levitated her and moved towards the unlocked door, body floating behind her. Once they passed through, Hermione found a lone rickety chair and deposited the unconscious woman. She turned back to the door and secured it with a privacy ward and Anti-Muggle wards.

There wasn't much in the building to work with, but the barrenness seemed to help clear her mind and solidify her resolve. Hermione observed the smaller women wearily. With a sign she aimed her wand and secured the woman's wrists and ankles to the chair and cast a Stinking Charm to keep her in the chair.

Confident that her prisoner wasn't escaping easily Hermione transfigured a piece of debris into a table and rested her bag on top. Carefully, she removed the files she'd stolen before their little time jump. They all had the same disturbing symbol that Lisa had etched into her forearm. The Dark Mark had been monstrous on its own, but this adaptation was nightmarish.

Hermione spread all the files across the table. The thickest was stamped with the words Operation Zurückstzen. Operation Reset. Lovely. That at least answered what the objective of this little adventure. Reset what, though?

She flipped open the folder and shuffled through the papers. Her German wasn't proficient enough to understand the details but in the top corner was a picture. It was a black and white photo of a young man, probably no older than his early twenties. Small thing. She could hear Mrs. Weasley clucking her tongue at seeing how skinny this man was.

Though she had no idea who this person was she felt her temper flare as she read the comments under the photo. "Locate, convert, if conversion fails, eliminate." There was plenty more, but Hermione had seen enough. Enough to know that no matter the time, the place, or the people there was always someone that saw themselves as superior and all others as expendable.

She'd had enough. Enough of fighting and enough of sacrifices. But with little hesitation she knew she was throwing herself into the middle of it all over again. The woman in front of her had every intention of altering the timeline. After everything their world had already survived, she wanted to kill a man who already appeared to be battling for his health.

Sparks jumped through her curls like a current as she worked to suppress the anger running through her.

Hermione braced her hands against the table and breathed deep. It would do her no good to lose control on her anger right now. When she was alone she could cry and rail against fates. Grasping her wand, Hermione transfigured a few more pieces of debris into jars and conquered little blue bell flames.

The dark room filled with an eerie blue glow. It was subtle but would hopefully unsettle the other woman enough to give Hermione the upper hand. Hermione spread the folders out and removed a modified recording device from her bag.

The piece had become invaluable after she had managed to charm the muggle device to work in the magical world. When she became an archivist, she'd developed a habit of talking to herself as she worked, the need to track ideas and thoughts necessitated something more substantial than a Quick-Notes-Quill. It was just a shame that she hadn't packed her full potions kit. She made sure there was always a small vial of Veritaserum in there.

Hermione set the device to start recording before casting a Finite on the body bind. With a smirk, Hermione skipped using a simple Rennervate, instead, she blasted the woman with a cold stream of water.

Lisa came to sputtering and gasping as she pulled on her bound wrists. "Thank you for your prompt attention, Miss Phillips. I'm positive this will be a most productive session. You'll provide me answers to my questions and, in return, I'll make sure you make it through this in one piece."

With an air of nonchalance, Hermione leaned back against the table as her wand tapped rhythmically against the surface. The smaller woman's face contorted with contempt as she stared at Hermione. Her lips pulled back into a snarl. Just as she opened her mouth to spew whatever vitriol she'd thought up, Hermione hit her with a Silencio.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Miss Phillips. You will speak when I allow it. If you wish to see beyond this bare room, you will answer my questions. I'd strongly advice cooperation because I have little patience left."

Hermione straightened up and moved to stand in front of the woman. She stepped in close invading the woman's space. It forced the bound woman to crane her neck back uncomfortably in order to maintain the eye contact.

"Now. Tell me what you intended to do with the device." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and left her wand on full display. It made it clear that though Hermione may seem like the more logical and calmer of the Golden Trio there had been a good reason she'd been listed as Undesirable #2.

Each spell Hermione cast was eating away at her already quite finite energy reserves. Her body was crying out for sleep. But there would be no rest until she got her answers.

The woman continued to glare still silenced. "I imagine you plan to just remain silent once I remove the spell. That's fair but you won't be successful." Hermione moved in closer and circled around the woman.

She stood directly behind the chair Hermione placed her hands along the back and leaned in until her chin was almost resting on the other woman's shoulder. Hermione took satisfaction in the tension that pulled across the woman's shoulders and the slightly panicked breathing she was struggling to hide.

In a low and eerily calm tone, Hermione spoke directly next to Lisa's ear. It was biting and offered no sense of warmth or comfort. "You will find that I have very little tolerance left for plots, intrigue, and sects set on reshaping the world on some arbitrary idea of superiority. It's exhausting and, quite frankly, played out. So, understand this and understand it well.

"Should you choose to withhold information I will not have any issue using any means necessary to extract it from you. I'm tired of fighting but that won't stop be from doing just that. If I was younger you might have been granted more leniency but not now.

"If you won't speak, I will burrow into your mind and take what I want." Hermione paused and pressed her finger into the woman's temple enough to be painful. "Legilimency is a skill I'm still working on, but I'd have no problem using you for practice. And I would have very little guilt over the damage it might cause you."

Hermione straightened up, gave the woman's shoulders a squeeze and moved to stand in front of her once more. Her face was still the picture of calm and there was even a gentle smile directed at the woman. "In fact, should it incapacitate you in a permanent fashion my life would be made that much easier."

Hermione was pleased to note that most of the color had drained from the bound woman's face. It wasn't hard to imagine that she must look imposing in the ghostly blue glow of her blue bell fire.

"I'm going to release the silencing spell. Are you ready to cooperate?" Hermione transfigured another chair across from Phillips and sat down demurely as she pointed her wand, noting the slight flinch the woman couldn't stop, and removing the spell.

The chair had been necessary. She didn't want the woman to see that the wounds Hermione received from their fight through the office were causing her any trouble. The poor light in the building helped hide the blood that had slowed but still stained her pant leg.

The two women sat in silence for a few minutes before Hermione lost her patience. With a silent flick of her wand, a Stinging Hex hit the other woman squarely in the stomach.

She struggled against the ropes, trying to curl up in pain. Regaining some strength, Lisa managed to snarl at Hermione, as she spat out, "You weren't supposed to be there to interfere. I should have just killed you, Mudblood."

Hermione just rolled her eyes and sighed. Insults and death threats hardly phased her anymore. "You probably should have killed me but that's irrelevant now. What was the plan for the device?'

"To see the end of filth like you, of course."

The curls that had escaped her braid bounced as she shook her head and made a tsking sound. "Yes, yes. I've heard this song before. But for who? You set this too far back for it to be Voldemort. And in the wrong part of the world. I know inbreeding has impacted your intelligence, but I was unaware it was this bad."

Lisa's cheeks took on a ruddy hue as Hermione gave her best innocent face. The angrier the woman became the better chance she'd slip and tell Hermione exactly what she needed. Just as the woman looked as if she'd try and spit on the British witch, Hermione leaned forward and grabbed her by the chin, thumb and fingers along her jaw squeezing enough to make stop the other woman's actions.

"Let's not be uncouth. Should you wish to act so poorly I will make it most uncomfortable. My dear friend once showed me how to make someone vomit up slugs." Hermione released her with a slight shove. "Let's try this again. What was your plan? What is that bloody awful thing on your arm? And who is the man in the photo?"

"Stupid Mudblood! I brought us to exactly where I needed to be. Voldemort was never going to succeed. He was too obsessed with becoming a god. I'm here to make sure a true leader is victorious. Then you and your dirty kind will be made to serve. We belong as the rulers, not rats creeping in the shadows."

Hermione cocked her head to the side and ran her hand gown her face. "Really? That old trope again? Exhausting. Do you ever get tired of the same futile scheme?" With a flip of her hair, Hermione straightened back up. "Now. The symbol. What is that monstrosity?"

Lisa smiled wickedly and stared her dead in the eyes as she hissed. "Hail Hydra."

Before Hermione even realized what was happening, she watched as the woman broke off a false tooth and bit down. Hermione couldn't stop her gasp as she watched foam bubbled up out of her mouth and as her body twitched before out one last breath.

"Well, bugger."

After she gathered all the files she'd laid out, Hermione stared down at the body of Lisa Phillips, unsure of what to do now. What was she supposed to do with a body of a woman that had tried to kill her before trapping her decades in the past?

She couldn't risk the attention that would come from any suspicion of foul play. The discovery of a seemingly respectable woman in this state and this location would undoubtedly draw too many eyes that Hermione would little afford.

Hermione settled on a solution, though it left a poor taste in her mouth, but it wouldn't cause too many questions and she wouldn't feel like a complete monster. Really should have just incinerated the woman but even a fire in an empty warehouse at a busy dock would be noticed. Hermione pointed her wand at the body and transfigured the clothes to something time appropriate, dirty and a little ragged.

Next, she removed any jewelry and checked her over for anything that could be of use before she mussed up the woman's hair and dirtying her skin. Last, Hermione found a little stone and transfigured it into a bottle of morphine. It had been one of the drugs of choice during this era, so the idea of a woman overdosing couldn't be too far a stretch.

With the way Hermione altered Lisa's appearance, she had little doubt that there would not be much effort made to find out who the dead woman was. The tattoo may cause a bit of a mystery but there wasn't anything she could do about that right now.

Taking a last look around the space, Hermione reverted one of the chairs back. Now she just needed to take care of herself. She would never blend in her current state of jeans, trainers, and a fitted blouse.

She took to her grandmother for inspiration. She had been young during this time, and Hermione could recall some of the old photos.

Hermione, for once, was thankful for the generous curves she carried since this eras style would work well for her body. The hourglass look was what women strived for and her body naturally formed to the ideal.

Deciding that simple was best, Hermione altered her clothes to a simple jersey knit shirtwaist dress. Four large white buttons stood out against the emerald green color and accented her trim waist with a brown leather belt. Her shoes shifted to a pair of matching brown leather sensible Oxfords with a small kitten heel. At the last moment she added silk stockings. Her Nana always loved to remind Hermione when she was younger that a respectable lady never went anywhere without proper hosiery.

Whether she was pleased with it not, the outfit would have to do. She had to brace herself against the table as her vision went a little hazy. The strain on her magical core was leeching the energy right our of her. She'd have to find a place to rest soon so that she could recover. It was a wonder she had been able to take care of her clothing.

Taking deep breathes to ground herself, Hermione stood back up, slung her messenger bag over her shoulder, tucked her wand away, and walked away from one complication managed. Having gathered everything she needed, Hermione took one last deep, grounding breath and stepped through the door without a single look back.

Once she'd left the warehouse Hermione realized she had another major problem that needed to be resolved. It was 1940, she was a single female with no family, injured, no money from that era, and no clue where she was and where she could go.

Thanks to Harry's paranoia she had plenty of money. The challenged she faced now was finding the local Gringotts branch and have everything converted. Thank Merlin wizards were so set in their ways. British wizarding money hadn't changed since 1260. She'd have to convert her galleons into Dragots, before having that converted into American dollars.

The one easy decision she'd had so far was her choice to stay part of the muggle world. The no-maj world, she corrected herself internally. There was less chance that she could impact the timeline if she stayed away from the wizarding community. In this city, as a muggle, she'd have a greater chance blending in until she could return. Since wizards lived longer, Hermione wanted to avoid the chance that she'd meet someone in this time that lived to hers and what that could mean for the future. Yes, it was best to stay as hidden as possible.

At least she was in New York and had less chance of running into any of the families she would meet in the future. She just sent a prayer to anyone listening that her translations had been correct and that she could move forward and actually return to her own time.

If not, she'd have to adjust to the idea that she'd be a Yank from here on out.

Hermione stepped out of the little alley where she'd first landed. She was troubled to see the sky growing darker. There was no possible way she'd be able to find a bank and have her money converted before nightfall.

Which begged the next question: what was she going to do for lodgings tonight? She doubted there would be any place that would just take her on her word that she'd pay when she could. It may be a different era, but it was still a big city that was feeling the strain of the Great Depression.

This wouldn't be the first time she'd been without a safe space to sleep. Hermione had just hoped those days were well behind her. And this time she didn't have a spare tent in her magical bag. Maybe she'd start acting a little more cautious like Harry when she was home.
At least this time there was no one hunting her down. Or so she hoped.

That was one more thing to add to the growing list of concerns. Lisa Phillips must have been in contact with someone that would provide her the needed cover, shelter, and information she'd need for her mission. That meant somewhere there was a person expecting a now dead woman. She could only hope that they would just consider her lost to the ether when she never showed.

One problem at a time, however.

The most important issue to resolve was where she could go until she'd handled her money situation. New York in 1940 couldn't be that different. She wouldn't have any issues finding a place that was open all night.

So deeply lost in her thoughts, worried about what she could do to get along here, Hermione didn't realize where she had wandered until loud voices startled her. Outside the dim alley, Hermione realized it was not quite as late as she though. Apparently, she wasn't just in a warehouse district, but at the docks. Right at quitin' time, apparently, if she was to judge by the shouting of the men around her.

Hermione needed to move quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was to be found by one of the workers as they headed for home. Not as a woman, on her own, and unescorted in the evening during this era. Frankly, there were few cases where she'd want to be lost in this city on her own regardless of the decade.

She turned one more corner and felt a little more relaxed. Up ahead were a group of ladies all congregated together. They were more than likely waiting for husbands, boyfriends, or family and they were providing her the perfect cover to leave the area.

She needed to find a place to rest soon. After that fight through the MACUSA, traveling so far back in time, and having dealt with Miss Phillips, Hermione knew she was barely able to keep moving. The cut on her leg was slowly scabbing over but cracked open if she moved to quickly and the burn on her arm needed to be cleaned as soon as possible.

Part of her, the terrified part that was perilously close to going into shock, wanted to go back and hide in that abandoned warehouse. With how active the area was, though, it would only be a matter of time until someone stumbled upon her. The absolute last thing she wanted was to be found with a dead body almost eighty years in the past.

Maybe as she made her way farther into the city she could find an old paper. There had to be listings for possible boarding houses. She could potentially even find one that was just for single women. That would cause less of a fuss and keep attention off her. All she wanted in that moment was a nice cuppa, a bed, and a quiet moment to just cry. She'd more than earned that right.

She could feel her grip on her composure slipping more and more each minute. Inside she was screaming that this had to all just be a nightmare that she'd wake from any moment now. She'd be back at her little government assigned apartment in America and she'd rush to the Floo to call Ron and Harry. They'd listen to her crazy dream and joke around with her until her pulse was back under control and she could laugh about how silly she had been.

Knowing she couldn't let herself get distracted by the hopefully fantasy, Hermione had to battle to keep herself breathing properly once more.

Slowly, Hermione wove through the group of women and the men coming off the dock to meet them. Most seemed to be handing over small envelopes. That, at least, helped her narrow down the day. Friday. Pay day. Which meant if it was the end of the day there was slim chance she could find a magical bank, exchange her money to Muggle money, and still find a place for the night. Now she'd need to not only find a place to rest but she'd need to find a place that would allow her to stay the weekend. Could this get any worse?

Hermione felt utterly lost. Even in the worst days of the war she had the boys and before then she'd had her parents. Here and in this time, for the first time in her life, Hermione was completely alone.

She struggled to keep moving as her vision started to blur, the tears threatening to fall at any moment.

In her distress, Hermione was oblivious that she had started to catch the attention of a few people nearby. All she could focus on was the exit just a short distance ahead of her. Her body had begun to protest any more movement and it was sheer force of will that kept her legs from giving out beneath her.

She passed through a gate that had almost castle like turrets on them and moved to the side to lean against the brick wall. People filed past her quickly, on their way home or out for a night with a loved one. They paid her no mind beyond a curious glance or two.

It was a bit of a shock to see how lighthearted most of the crowd looked. Hermione recalled that in this time the US had been recovering from their Great Depression and still had yet to be truly touched by the building war across the Atlantic.

Hermione rubbed at her face to try and clear her eyes and refocus. She could feel a headache creeping up on her.

She studied the area as best she could. So, this was the naval yards. Which meant Brooklyn. It was an area that had a large Irish population. With that thought Hermione may have found her solution. Couldn't she try and take refuge in a church? Or was that too far back a practice? Either way she thought it could be worth a try.

With a grimace, Hermione pushed herself off the wall and panned her gaze down each street. She couldn't see anything close that looked like it might be a church. When she turned to look to her left, she noticed a younger girl watching her.

She was lovely for her age. Light brown hair was pinned back with braids before falling to her shoulders. Her bright, curious, blue eyes watched Hermione until they made eye contact and the girl looked away.

Being spotted by the young girl made the choice of which way to walk for Hermione. She didn't want to move closer to the curious girl and risk more attention. Hermione pulled her bag tighter to her and turned around. Looked like she'd be taking the right out of the shipyard and wherever that would lead her. She'd follow some of the people leaving which should take her out of the more industrial areas.

Her movements were slower than she'd like as she made her way down the street. The October sunlight was fading steadily, and fatigue was engulfing her body. She had to stop and steady herself against the wall again. Everything in her just wanted to give up and pick this spot to rest. At this rate she wouldn't be making it very far very fast.

"Hey there, girlie." Hermione whipped her head around at the accented voice. It sounded vaguely Irish with a New York inflection. Definitely a man's voice by the tone. "What's a pretty dame like you doing down here on your own?"

The man was big, at least half a foot taller than her, and broad. He was clearly ending a shift considering the amount of grit and oil clinging to him. The man might have been considered handsome by most but Hermione could see something in his eyes that had her guard up. There was an unpleasantness to the way he was looking at her. The two others flanking him didn't make her feel any more secure.

With a forced smile, Hermione straightened as best she could. "Just making my way home."

Everything in her screamed to move quickly away from these men but her body was could not cooperate.

"I ain't seen you around here before, doll. And I'm pretty sure I'd remember a pretty face like yours."

"I'm new to the area. Just in from England."

"Well then it should be my duty to make sure you're enjoying our little part of the world. What do ya say you be my squeeze for the night and we hit the dance hall?"

Hermione didn't like the way they had started to crowd around her. They had moved in on her fairly quickly and with her back to the wall there was little she could do to move away. She felt it prudent to make as much space between them as she could. Trying to not be obvious, Hermione inched her way farther along the wall.

"That's really very kind of you to offer but I have to be going. Besides, I'm not much of a dancer." She tried to leave but was stopped by a hand grabbing her elbow.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you really want to turn me down. A sweet thing like you wouldn't want to break a man's heart, now would ya? Now why don't you come along with us, love. Me and the boys can show you around town and have a swell time."

"While I'm sure it would all be lovely, I really must be going. I'm sure there are a number of ladies who would be more than happy to join you, gentlemen. Have a good evening."

"Don't be like that, sweetheart. You don't want to embarrass me in front of my boys. Now come 'ere." Hermione bit her tongue as his large hand moved and grabbed her injured arm and pain flared through her.

Before she could fully recover from the shock of the pain, Hermione felt herself being pulled away from the wall. He released her arm in favor of throwing his over her shoulders. There was little she could do to stop him as he began walking them farther down the street and away from other people.

"Excuse me but, as I said, I really must be going. I was on my way to meet someone." Hermione tried to shrug his arm off. "Maybe we can go dancing another night."

Hermione stumbled a bit as his arm tightened across her shoulders. The stink of sweat, oil, and grime wafted off of him and surrounded her. She drug her feet when she noticed that he had started to lead her away from the main road and off to another side street that looked deserted.

"See, I tried 'ta be nice and have a fun night but ya just had ta be rude ta me and the boys. We don't like a dame who thinks she's too good for us. Come on fellas. We're going to have our good time."

The air rushed out of her as her back was slammed into the wall. The scent of them invaded her senses and caused her stomach to roll. Hermione shut her eyes tightly as his larger body held her pressed against the building wall.

Her arms came up and she placed her hands on the man's chest, trying her best to push him away. "All you had to do was say you'd go dancing, girlie. Now me and the boys are gonna have a different kind of fun."

No! This was not going to happen to her. Not after everything she'd already survived. But no matter what her thoughts were demanding, she could not get her body to move as commanded. Until now, she'd managed to keep her fear and panic in check, but this was just too much.

She wasn't sure when she started to cry but she could feel the tears spilling down her cheeks. Here was the girl that had slapped Malfoy for his cruel words and the young woman who had endured torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and come out alive and sane. Yet, here and now she never felt so close to giving up.

All the trauma, stress, and uncertainty of today and the past few weeks beat down on her as the tears fell. All she wanted to do was curl into herself but she couldn't move pinned as she was. The pain and fear surged through her, Hermione felt the anger building at the injustice of her life right now. What more could she give the universe before it decided to let her have a quiet, normal life?

She struggled, writhing and wigging until she worked one of her hands free, and managed to land a solid, stinging blow to his cheek. Hermione tried to shift so that she could reach her wand that was pressed tightly to her side. She could feel it but could not reach. With the rage that filled this man's eyes after she hit him she didn't dare look away to see if she could find an opening.

"Boys, grab her hands." The two other men stepped up and grabbed her wrists and it felt like manacles. "Looks like there's a bit of a fighter in this girlie."

Why hadn't she called for help? Why couldn't she find her voice to make any sound at all? The only thing she seemed capable of was shaking in their grasp.

She'd have bruises on her wrists with how tight they were holding her. She felt fingers trace down her cheek almost gently. "A pretty dame like you shoulda never wandered around places like here alone. You never know what kinda people are out here."

The two buffoons holding her laughed as she kept fighting against their grip.

Hermione shuddered when she felt rough, cracked lips latch onto her neck as a big hand moved to span her waist. "You smell so pretty, sweetheart. You got to be a real lady or something. Never had me a real lady, right lads?"

The men must have taken her lack of screaming as a sign that she was giving up because their hold seemed to loosen a bit on her. As the ring leader moved in to kiss her, he gave a loud and pained shout.

Hermione's head was ringing. Who knew it would hurt her so much to head butt another person?It was worth it as she his weight easing off of her. She took advantage of their shock and surprise while she had the chance and shifted to kick the one's holding her as close to their knees as she could reach . It wasn't much but it made them back up a step.

"Keep your hands off of me!" She used what force she could muster and yanked her wrists out of their grasps.

Hermione tried to rush by and back to the street as quickly as she could. Her heart thundered in her chest and her breath was quick in sharp.
A hand grabbed her hair from behind and made her head wrench back. The shock of pain forced a sharp cry as Hermione struggled to stay on her feet after the sudden shift in momentum.

Just wanting to get away as fast as she could, Hermione reached for her wand. In this situation she would be surprised if they punished her for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. A quick Flipendo would be enough to break her free and give her the chance to run. If that didn't take care of them she'd throw a Bombarda to scare them off.

She felt the wand just at her fingertips. The wood was warm to the touch and she was fairly certain that if it hadn't been tucked so close to her body it would have fired off a curse on it's own by now.

She gripped her wand, as she caught sight of movement at the alleyway opening. It was enough to make her pause. She felt no concern over hexing her attackers, but now there was a witness.

From what she could see there were two people who stood not too far from her. One was about her height and the other was shorter, probably an older child. Unconsciously, Hermione lifted one hand up, reaching towards the new comers hoping they were here to help.

"Geez, Callaghan. Let the lady go! Becca go find your brother." As one of the figures moved away, Hermione could see that it was the girl who had been watching her earlier. Never had she been more thankful for curious children than she was right now. The young girl stopped and looked back over her shoulder at the scene they must all be making before nodding at her friend and running off.

"Scram, Rogers. This ain't none of your business." The hand tightened in her hair. Hermione hissed with the pain and her hands went up and her nails started digging into the hand and arm holding onto her.

She had to scratched him hard enough to really feel it because the next thing she knew he was cursing in her ear and roughly shaking her head, trying to get her to release him.

"I think the lady said hands off, you creep. Let her go." Hermione watched at the smaller man made his way toward them. As he came closer, she could see that he was a smaller man but with a recklessly determined look on his face. She was far too familiar with that look after all the years she'd spent with Harry.

He also looked like a gust of wind would knock him over. But at least he cared enough to try and help.

There was something about the blond that struck her as familiar but now was most assuredly not the time to dwell on that.

The most remarkable thing about him was the fierce look in his blue eyes that looked like it belong on a man twice his size. It screamed that this was another man always finding trouble and never being able to walk away if it meant others could be hurt.

"You don't know when to stay out of things, do you Rogers? Walk away, crumb, I've beat you up enough this week."

Hermione wasn't going to wait for this posturing to play out and took advantage of the distraction this Rogers provided. Bracing her feet, Hermione slammed her elbow back into the stomach of the man, Callaghan, who was holding her.

Once he let go, he doubled over clutching at his stomach. Hermione didn't spare a second before she ran towards this Rogers fellow. He extended his arm to reach for her and bring her closer, sparing a quick moment to look her over. His fierce blue eyes took in her fear and his face settled into a steady resolve. "Ma'am, are you alright? You may want to get out of here."

"Stupid bitch, you're going to pay for that after we take care of Romeo here." Callaghan shook off the hands of his friends who had reached for him after Hermione broke free and left him winded.

"I'm not leaving you here with three against one." She wasn't sure how much she had left in her but she'd give whatever there was.

The two goons came at them quickly and she could hear the painful sound of a fist finding it's mark. Her rescuer went down hard beside her. He recovered and took to his feet much faster than she would have thought possible.

Refusing to stand idly by, Hermione placed her hand against her wand and muttered the tripping jinx under her breath. It managed to take out one of the attackers and the man, Rogers, used that moment to take a swing at the other.

Hermione was so focused on the two in front of her that she missed the other men regrouping until she was grabbed roughly from behind and thrown away as Callaghan jumped back into the fight. All three men were circling round her rescuer and started to pummel the poor man. They completely ignored her as she screamed for them to stop.

The moment she started to slip her wand free and hang the consequences she felt a gentle pair of hands move her back. This stranger quickly passed her and grabbed one of the men by the scruff and pulled him off the blond. There was a crack as his body was tossed to the side, his head hitting the brick wall.

There was no hesitation in this newcomer as he jumped between the men who had attacked her and the poor man who'd only tried to help. She had to give the credit, for such a small person he'd held his own better than others she'd met twice his size.

Hermione started as a soft, little hand slipped into her own. She shifted to see the young girl from earlier staring at her with big, blue eyes. "Don't worry. My brother will fix 'em."

Indeed, this girl's brother did seem to be holding his own. She flinched at the meaty sound of fists meeting skin. He was squared up with both Callaghan and his lackey and guarded the smaller man as he stared down the men. It was clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

The second goon went down hard from a solid right cross hook to the chin. She didn't know who this new person was she really hoped he made these men hurt.

"Can't get a decent dame to step out with you, Callaghan, so you got to rough up a lady in some alley? I'm going to enjoy knocking some sense into you."

"Shut your mouth or walk away." Callaghan swung and it was easily dodged. The larger man stumbled a bit has his momentum unbalanced him. The new fighter ducked under that man's arm and hit the Callaghan's torso.

With out taking his eyes off his opponents, he called to his sister beside her. "Becca, start heading home."

They were joined by the blond man. "Are you alright, miss? I'm Steve and that's Bucky. Let's start heading out of here."

The two fighters seemed to be evenly matched but Steve's friend, Bucky, seemed to be a touch faster, giving him the advantage. Until Callaghan managed to land a solid hit to the man's face. Hermione winced in sympathy as he staggered back. He feigned a step to the left and managed to lay a solid hit to Callaghan's kidney.

The man coughed and doubled over clearly winded by the blow. His opponent took the opening and sent a hard left hook to the cheek.
Hermione didn't get to see the man go down, though she heard it, because the goon who'd gone down first had grabbed Steve by the scruff. The blond swung as best he could but they weren't having any effect on the bigger man.

This had just gone on too long. The man holding Steve had his back to her. No one ever felt threatened by her.

That was their mistake.

Summoning the last bit of her energy, Hermione aimed the strong kick to the back of the man's knee. There was an audible pop before he hell forward with a shout. That drew the attention of the blond's friend. Steve managed shake the hold on him loose as the man went down.

It would have been funny, in any other circumstance, to see how big his eye grew as he watched the petite brunette take her bag and swing it into the back of the man's head.

The man dropped like a rock.

For the second time today, Hermione stood over the sprawled body. Thankfully, this one was still breathing. This was becoming a far too familiar sight for her.

"I can't leave you alone for a moment, punk." The man who had taken out the gang dropped his hand on the blonde's shoulder. "You alright there, Becks?"

"Yeah, Buck, I'm alright but I'm not so sure about her." The girl Becca, reached towards Hermione and gently touch her back. "Miss, are you okay? That must have been scary."

Hermione couldn't help the harsh, tearful laugh that escaped her. She swiped at the tears that were drying on her cheeks. "Everything today has been a bit frightening."

The girl's eyes shone with a sadness for Hermione's sake. She reached for her hand again and looked up at Hermione, "My name's Becca. Those fellas over there are my brother Bucky and our friend Stevie."

"Hermione Granger. Thank you for the help. I seem to have found myself terribly lost." She tried to offer her best smile but it looked forced and sad.

The one Becca had pointed out as her brother came over and placed his hands on his sister's shoulders. "Just glad we were close. Those three ain't no good. Let's get you girls out of here. We'll take you to our Ma and get you, me, and Steve all patched up. Then we can get you to where it was you were headed."

"Ma Barnes is used to patching up people. Maybe she'll ease up on us this time, Buck, since we can honestly say we didn't fight just cause." The two men shared a grin, the blond with the beginnings of a black eye and the brunet with a split lip.

Hermione finally took a good look at her rescuers. She was barely able to contain her surprise when she realized the reason the blond, Steve, looked familiar. This was the man from the files she had hidden in her bag. At least the powers that be made one thing easier in her life.

She pulled her eyes away so should wouldn't be caught staring. The last thing she needed was them to think her crazy instead of just helpless like they most likely thought of her already.

"Come on, let's get a move on before it gets too late out and Ma tans my hide for keeping Becca out so late. Though she can't be too sore when we're bringing home a pretty dame." Bucky winked at the woman. She looked dead on her feet but he'd been impressed with how she was handling the entire situation. Tough broad for sure.

Hermione felt a flutter in her stomach as Bucky flirted with her. She knew he was probably just trying to get her to relax but anyone would be excited to have the handsome man's attention.

And there was no denying that he was handsome. Under the dirt of the work day she could see well defined cheekbones that she wished to run her fingers down and an strong jaw line covered in a layer of faint stubble. The most captivating feature were the eyes that were taking her in just as much as hers. They were a beautiful blueish grey color that held equal amounts of warmth and mischief.

She had to force herself to look at her surroundings again just to collect her bearings again. The little hand in hers squeezed and and brought her attention back to the girl beside her. "You look tired. Bucky, let's get her home."

Hermione could only slowly follow as the girl pulled on her arm and led the group back out to the street. Becca may have been young but the girl was stubborn. If she was smarter, she'd thank them and be on her way but there was just something about these three that had her finally feeling safe.

"Here, doll, let me take that bag from you. Hate for you to think there's no gentlemen in this city." She hesitated but with the fatigue settling in her body she was hard pressed to deny that grin. Hermione was just sore enough that she'd take the risk and let the muggle take the bag. As long as she was near his sister she doubted he'd try and take off with it.

"Thank you. I don't know how I can repay you for your help."

"Don't worry about that, ma'am. If it wasn't to help you it'd probably be something else that caused the fight. Not that all we do is fight. Umm well I mean it's not unusual but this time it was a better reason. Not to say that they start for bad reasons." Steve stammered out clearly feeling more awkward the longer he went on.

The brunet laughed and tousled his friend's hair. "What the punk means is we're glad we were there to help and you don't need to do nothing." Bucky smiled down at her as he moved to walk next to her and Hermione knew her trouble was just starting.