Hermione flitted around her tiny condo she'd been living in ever since her and Ron had broken up, searching desperately for a scarf she could wear. She was on her way to the Harry and Ginny's new house they'd just bought in Godric's Hollow. However, it was snowing outside and even though she was running just a little late she wasn't going outside without something to protect her skin from the harsh, biting wind and the small pellets of ice.
She finally found a lavender wisp of a scarf underneath a pile of books that would at least go with the purple dress she was wearing and wound it around her neck, pulling her hair through. She grabbed a purse and a black trenchcoat as she was running from the condo and tugged it on while attempting not to trip and fall down the stairs leading up to her door. Hermione would normally apparate from within her own house instead of risking outside where Muggles could possibly see her disappear, but there was just no room in her condo at the moment. Normally, she was very clean and had everything in a place but over the past week there had been attacks rather close to home and she was too worried to do anything besides worry.

Voldemort may have been destroyed by Harry over a year ago and many of his death eaters may have been arrested and were now deservedly rotting in Azkaban, but there had been a select few of them...Dolohov, Alecto Carrow, Yaxley, Rowle she rattled off in her head...who were now in hiding and occasionally, especially recently, since it had just been the anniversary of their Master's death, were sneaking around at night trying to find an old member of Dumbledore's Army with their guard down. Neville had been targeted three nights ago when he was walking back from a Muggle grocery store near where he lived with Luna...he was still in St. Mungo's...and just last night George Weasley had been attacked as he was closing up the joke shop before heading home alone. The attacks had been all over the newspapers and she knew Harry, who was high up in the auror's office, and the rest of his colleagues, including Ron, were searching day and night for the remaining death eater's. Unfortunately, they were harder to catch than they should've been.
Hermione had managed to make it to the bottom of the stairs in one piece so she cautiously peered down either side of the street before spinning on her toes. Suddenly she was in front of the Potter's gorgeous new house, which they'd actually built on the same property Harry's parents house had been on, and wobbled slightly, hating to this day the uncomfortable feeling that came with apparition. The snow was falling much heavier here than at her place and she curled her hands into fist and brought them up into the sleeves of her jacket before stiffly walking to their front door. It was painted a very bright green which offset nicely with the darker brown of their house and Hermione couldn't help smiling at the boldness of the choice. It was just like Harry. There was no way, even with just the slightest description, any person could misinterpret which house was his. It was like begging the remaining death eaters to come and get him.
Hermione reluctantly withdrew her right hand from underneath the silky comfort of her sleeve and rapped her knuckles on the door. They twinged with a slight pain after she tucked it back into her sleeve. She didn't know whether it was the hard door or the freezing cold that had caused it.

The door opened to the smiling face of Ginny who automatically pulled Hermione into a hug. "Hermione! It's so good to see you."

Hermione smiled and pulled away from Ginny to say, "We see each other almost every day, Gin."

"Oh, I know. But it's always wonderful, nonetheless, especially with what's been going on lately." Ginny's eyes darkened slightly. "I never know for sure if I'm going to see any of you again. Or if I do, in a bed in St. Mungo's."

"Don't worry, Gin," Harry said, entering the entryway and curling an arm around his wife's waist. Hermione couldn't help it as her eyes trailed his arm and a small twang of jealousy shot through her body. She missed that part of being in a relationship. "We can all take care of ourselves," he finished. "Especially Hermione," he added.

"You always tell me not to worry," Ginny said fiercely, turning to Harry, "And then you show up back from work with some horrifying story of close calls and a death or two. Don't ever tell me not to worry, Harry, because there's a perfectly justified reason why I do."

Harry caught Ginny's finger that had been pointing at his face, and gently entwined his finger's with hers. "Maybe we should invite Hermione in and shut the door. We can talk about it later."

Ginny huffed, tugging her hand from Harry's and strutted off into the kitchen. Hermione stepped inside the house, shutting the door behind her and removing her jacket and scarf. Harry took them and set them down on a chair in the living room before leading Hermione into the kitchen.

"You look great, by the way," he added, gesturing towards her outfit. "It's good to see you in some actual clothes."

"Sweat pants are clothes," Hermione growled. Harry lifted his hands in the air and noticed he was receiving glares from both women. "Why is everyone mad at me?" he asked.

"Sorry, sorry," Hermione sighed, "It's just been tough recently. How are you guys holding up with what's going on?"

"Not great," Harry replied. "Here I thought people getting hurt because of me would stop, but I was wrong."

"He's having nightmares again," Ginny said. Her face had softened as she said it and Hermione could tell she had already forgiven Harry. She knew Ginny would still make sure they talked about it but she was angry no longer. Harry's suffering always managed to bring her back from the brink of an outburst. And Hermione knew Harry had to be suffering. It was what he'd always hated most about the Second War. Other people getting caught up in it because they supported him. Harry was almost definitely done with being the center of attention, but clearly the death eaters and the world weren't quite done with him yet.

"There's got to be something you can do about the nightmares," Hermione said. Ginny shook her head in response. Her hands were working furiously on chopping ingredients for dinner while her wand was busy preparing water for pasta and making the sauce.

"We've tried everything. I've talked to potion masters and St. Mungo's healers. Everybody. They all had their own solution but none of them have worked. The memories are too persistent."

Hermione nodded solemnly and Harry stared at her, traces of a complaint on his face. "Don't you worry about me too."

"Sorry, Harry, we love you. You worry about us too, don't you?"

"Well of course..." Harry began but Ginny cut him off with a short laugh. "Ha," she said. "No more remarks about how I should feel then. You don't want to be a hypocrite."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry sighed and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek as he passed by to wash his hands at the sink before gently removing the knife from her hand and setting to work on the vegetables. Ginny glared at him for assuming she wanted help and Harry groaned loudly, "You wanted to gossip with Hermione about something, remember? Before Ron gets here. I'm just giving you the opportunity."

"Oh well in that case I forgive you," she smiled, pecking him quickly on the mouth. "Remember to cut them all the same size," she continued over her shoulder as she lead Hermione to the living room.

"I know how to chop vegetables," he called after her.

"You guys seem really happy," Hermione said as the settled down on a couch together.

"Yeah," Ginny smiled wistfully. "He's great. Sex is great. Life is generally great. Of course, this week has sucked. That's why we're a little more tense then normal, of course. He always gets home ridiculously late these days and they called him away last weekend to help with a situation. I hope they don't do that tonight. I just want to have a nice dinner."

"Me too. A low-key dinner with friends is exactly what I need right now."

"Are you going to be okay with Ron here?"

"That's what you wanted to talk with me about?"

Ginny nodded. "None of us have really heard the details. Ron refuses to talk about it and I thought I'd give you a couple of weeks of respite before I brought it up. I simply wanted to make sure there wouldn't be some horrific, furniture throwing fight at dinner tonight. Because if you think it's possible, we'll have dinner with him some other night."

"No, don't bother. It'll be fine. We both still care about each other and the break up was mutual. Our personalities simply didn't match up."

"You sound like you're listing off statistics."

"The chemistry wasn't really ideal, either," Hermione admitted. "And we both knew it. It was just a matter of time. When I was in mourning, it was less over losing him and more over losing what comes with a relationship, because I haven't lost him, you know? There's still all of those years of history and being best friends. It's easier to switch between the two then you might think."

"Understandable," Ginny said. "How do you like your condo? I haven't come over to see it yet."

"Well it was clean for a couple of weeks but it's a bloody mess right now. Once I heard about Neville three days ago I kind of let everything go. I don't know where half of my clothes are because I have too many books and not enough room and I haven't been sleeping all that well."

"Who has? Have you visited him yet?"

"Yeah. I went yesterday. He was really pale but seemed to be in good spirits. I haven't been to see George yet though. How is he?"

"Oh Mom's spoiling him silly and he didn't actually even get hurt that bad. Just a couple of bruises and a scratch or two. But Mom won't stop fussing. As usual. I think Ron mentioned he was going to go check on George before he came over. That's probably why he's running late. Mom won't let anybody out of her sight these days. She thinks the war is going to start up again. She's paranoid. So if you want to see George, I'd suggest waiting until he's moved back into his flat above the joke shop because she won't ever let you leave. As far as she's concerned, everyone's safer under her eye."

"Sounds like Molly," Hermione said.

Ginny nodded. The doorbell rang and both girls shifted their heads to the sound and got up off the couch. Harry shouted that he'd get the door and when he padded past the living room Ginny and Hermione both noticed the large grin on his face. Ron and Harry not only saw each other every day, but they worked together, and yet Ron never ceased to make Harry happy. Hermione smiled gently at Ginny. Suddenly a feeling of comfort and gratefulness swept through her as she thought of her friends and how close they all were. She didn't know what she'd do without them. Hermione smoothed out her dress before she followed Harry to the door.

When she found the entryway Harry and Ron were in a brotherly embrace, slapping each other's backs and Ginny was nowhere in sight. She must've gone back to the kitchen to work on dinner.

"Hey Ron," Hermione said, walking up to him. Ron did a quick up and down before realizing that he shouldn't be. He flushed slightly but then Hermione pulled him into a hug and she felt him relax. "Good to see you. Sorry it's been a while."

"All good," he replied in her ear. "I was too busy eating cartons of ice cream and marathoning Game of Thrones anyways. Have I told you how good Muggle TV is?" Hermione didn't know for sure whether he was being serious or not but from the expression on his face she knew either way that it was supposed to be a joke. Harry was already chortling and Hermione joined in while all three of them entered a hug together. They would be bonded for life and all three of them felt that as the gripped each other's arms.

"I love you guys," Hermione whispered.

"We love you," Harry and Ron replied at the same time and laughing, they walked into the kitchen together and the slight awkwardness between Ron and Hermione had completely dissipated. Ginny in the meantime had set the table and dolled out servings onto everyone's plates.

"Let's eat," she declared.

The conversation was light and cheery but there was a slight undertone the entire time as they all understood what topics they were avoiding. They'd already dwelled far too long on what the death eaters were beginning this night. It was time to delight in each other's company and be grateful they had it.

Ron was particularly good, as usual, at cracking a joke if the conversation appeared to be heading in the wrong direction. It wasn't long before everyone was full and sleepy and Hermione knew before long she would need to put her jacket back on to hide some of the bloating. Her dress wasn't quite loose enough tonight. She should get some sleep anyways. If she could.

"I think I'm gonna head home," she declared. "I'll see you guys at work tomorrow, I'm sure. Be safe."

"You be safe," Harry said. "You're the one heading home alone."

"I could take you home," Ron offered.

"Oh no, it's alright. As Harry said earlier, I can take care of myself. And besides, I'll be apparating just outside my door. You stay, Ron, and catch up." The boys were gazing at her, pleading her to take an escort just in case but Ginny stood and smiling said, "Okay, Hermione. Sounds good." Hermione and Ginny walked to the door together and Hermione gave her friend a hug.

"Thanks, Gin, for getting those boys off my back. I know they mean well, but..."

"But you're not helpless, I know. Please do be careful though, Hermione. Strange things have been happening and if you're not careful you might end up like Neville and I know none of us would handle that well."

"I promise I'll watch my back. Thanks for dinner."

"Of course. Any time. Seriously...any time."

"Yes yes I know," Hermione laughed. The two women stared at each other wondering who was going to say the final goodbye before they burst into giggles, gave each other another hug, and Hermione waved as she exited their home on to the street. Before she'd even reached the gate leading out of their yard and into the well lit road she had apparated.
Hermione was confused when she finally saw her surroundings. She recognized the street she lived on; she wasn't confused about where she was but why she hadn't landed on her front door step. She must've lost concentration. Hermione started strolling down her street, hands in her pockets, her fingers twirling her wand around and around. She wasn't going to let it leave her fingers as long as she wasn't inside her condo. Every once and a while she would do a casual scan of the street, her eyes peeled for anyone who appeared less than innocent.

On her third glance over her shoulder she noticed a man dressed all in black with a mask on. The first thought Hermione had was that he could try and be a little more subtle. Did the death eaters seriously need to wear those godforsaken masks that immediately gave away who they were? The second thought she had was well fuck. She drew her wand slowly out of her pocket as to not draw attention. She brought it up to her chest and walked even slower, straining her ears to hear footsteps or breathing. But there was no sound. Hermione swiveled on the pads of her feet and tensed her muscles in anticipation. He couldn't just disappear. He had to be somewhere. She would've heard him apparate. Then all of a sudden a body hit her from the side and she was flung to the asphalt. Her shoulder was bruised badly from the contact and grimacing she fought hard, kicking and biting any flesh she could find. She heard grunts and groans from her attacker, telling her she was hitting her mark. While she was doing that her fingers were digging around searching desperately for the wand she'd lost when she'd been tackled to the ground. When her fingers finally found it she yelled "Stupefy!" and rushed to her feet. She circled, her eyes flicking back and forth on the ground near her but there was no one there. Her shoulder still ached. She couldn't have imagined it. That was the moment she realized whoever was playing with her. He had surprise on his side and as far as she was concerned, she had to get back to her condo as quickly as possible. She apparated on the spot and found herself at the bottom of the stairs leading up to her condo. Hermione's heart was beating hard and she could hardly see anything through her panic but she managed to scamper up the first couple of stairs before a curse hit her straight in the chest and she was flung backward. It didn't actually hurt her in any way, besides her back screaming from having hit the pavement so hard, and she returned to her feet.

"Show yourself!" she screamed into the night, tired of the game. He should be a man and fight.

"Careful," a voice appeared by her ear, breathing hot steam into her ear, "Don't want your Muggle neighbors to figure out about you, do you?" She turned around, but again nothing was there. How was he even doing that? She extended her hand up to her ear and gently massaged it. It felt warm and wet. She shivered at the invasion of her personal space. Hermione knew that if she went back up the stairs she would just be flung back down so she knelt to the ground where she couldn't be tackled easily and whispered, "Lumos." The street was already illuminated well but she figured a little extra light couldn't hurt. Then a hand clasped over her mouth and stifled the scream she almost definitely released.

"It's okay. Come with me. I can get you somewhere safe."

Hermione bit down on the hand, not sure if it was a trap or not, but thinking whatever it was caution was the best policy. The hand automatically pulled back and she heard a whispered, "Shit," before the hand reached down and covered hers.
"I promise. I can help you. He's not going to give up. You won't be able to get into your condo and you'll probably end up dead."

Suddenly she realized she recognized the voice. She didn't know who it belonged to but she knew that she'd heard it before. A lot. "I know you," she whispered back quickly.

"We don't have time for idle chatter," the voice bit back. "Either you come with me or you die. You won't be able to stop him. He may not be too clever but he's definitely too persistent. He'll outlast you. Come. Now."

Hermione didn't know what to do. She bit her lip and pondered her options. The voice seemed to have a point; she still hadn't managed to set eyes on her attacker and yet this man could kill her too. The question became who was the bigger threat? Then the decision became obvious. Of course it was the man who was still gripping her hand in his. He was close; close enough to bite, stun, or kick. She could get away from this threat if it became one. But Hermione wasn't sure she could make it out of the one she was in now.

"Fine," she growled. Her legs were suddenly rising and before she knew what was happening, she was sprinting away from her home. Where the hell were they going? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She wrenched her head back to glance behind her and saw the figure shrouded in darkness still following them. "He's not leaving us alone, you know," she bellowed.

"Doesn't matter," the voice said. Then he turned his face back. It was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. "Where we're going is safe. The Fidelius charm is on it and I'm telling you now what the address is. 10 Creekside Grove."

Her legs stopped pumping and she ripped her hand from his. "Malfoy," she sneered. "Why the hell are you helping me? Better question is why the hell am I letting you?"/span/p

"Granger, let's go. Not now. We can do this when you're safe."

"Fine but we are not holding hands."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Run, goddammit woman."

"Don't call me woman."

"Run!"

Hermione sprinted after him. She didn't see a better option since she no longer knew where she was but she was confident whoever had attacked her was still following and turning around to go back home wouldn't help anything. But she couldn't stop her mind for berating every pounding footstep that was following Malfoy's. Not the little shit who had literally destroyed single handedly ninety percent of her self esteem when she was younger. It was the last person on earth she wanted helping her. A small voice piped up in her mind reminding her that he was probably saving her life but she quickly smothered it with some pressure.

She saw the house only a couple feet ahead of them now and she quickly ran through the open door that Malfoy had managed to fling open as he ran in. She stayed just inside the house watching as only a couple of seconds later the man ran up and glanced curiously at the space where she knew the house couldn't be seen. He wandered around for a while longer before screaming in frustration and disapparating.
She turned around to find Malfoy watching her. She avoided his gaze and looked at her surroundings. There was an open kitchen with lots of windows to her left and a living room with plush green chairs and couches to the right. She raised an eyebrow before returning her gaze to Malfoy's.

"This your place?"

He nodded.

"Why are you hiding in here?"

"I'm almost definitely the first person they want to kill. They've already killed my family for deserting. Dumbledore's Army is second on their list to me. I've been in hiding for a couple of months now."
She was slightly surprised at his response but quickly hid that reaction as she fought to maintain the constant scowl she intended to keep on her face the entire time she had to be here and talking to him.

"So why'd you help me? And be quick about your answer because I intend on leaving very soon. Now would be great actually."

"Do you want some tea?" Malfoy asked.

"No! Does it look like I'm here for a social visit? Jesus. Answer the question so I can get out of here. Actually, answer that and this. How did you even find me?"

"I helped you because you were going to die. Despite what you may think of me, and I suppose deservedly so, I don't like watching people die. As for finding you, it was completely by chance. I was out on a walk. Believe it or not I get rather lonely hiding away here alone and sometimes just watching people interact with other people can help, even if I can't talk to them myself. Can't afford to attract too much attention."

"I bet saving my life attracted attention."

"Yeah, it did. I'll have death eaters hanging out here in shifts probably all day every day for a couple of days. And then occasional surprise visits for as long as they're alive. Or I am. I'll just not leave the house, I guess," he said more to himself.

"Well thanks, I guess," Hermione said, finding nothing to suspicious in his recounting of the tale. "I'm gonna leave now."

"No. Wait, please. Have some tea. I haven't talked to another human being in weeks. Please. Stay."

"Uh...no."

"Please."

"Fuck no. Let's see...you've called me a mudblood. You've humiliated me, you've made my teeth ten times bigger then they should have been in front of Snape and laughed about it, you pissed off my friends, you were a bloody coward during the war, and your cronies shot avada kedavra at me. I don't owe you a goddamn thing. I would say see you around, but since you can't leave, probably not." Hermione dramatically turned around and flung open the front door of the house.

"Please. I'm begging you...Hermione." Wait...he was begging? What the hell had happened to Malfoy and who was the person she was talking to now? And Hermione?

"Fuck off." Then Hermione exited without looking back and apparated right on to her front doorstep. If only she could've done that earlier. She unlocked the door with the wave of her wand and then quickly brushed her teeth thoroughly out of habit and went to bed. But she couldn't sleep. She was hoping after the excitement of the evening her brain would be so exhausted it wouldn't want to think but she had been wrong. Instead of the fact she'd been attacked, which she should have been dwelling on, she was thinking about Malfoy, and how he had said her name. He'd never done that before. Why had he been so nice? Nice? That wasn't the right word, she was sure. But why? And why had he wanted her company of all people? Was he really that desperate for human contact? She was sure he had been exaggerating. She would have to talk to Harry about it tomorrow. He would reassure her Malfoy was one hundred percent the dick he'd always been and she could go back to pretending he didn't exist instead of pondering the fact that he'd just saved her life.