He squints in front of him, trying to see if she's really there.

"Hermione?"

Silence.

He holds his breath and suddenly, he can start to hear her breathe.

Chapter Three

One day, on the cusp of spring, when the air is still crisp, but with undertones of summer, Hermione sits outside their camp site. She flips back and forth through her copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard, translating what she can from ancient runes. Harry and Ron are in the tent behind her, probably sleeping or listening to the radio for names they recognize.

It's been around four weeks since the locket was destroyed and a certain weight had been lifted from all their shoulders the night it had. The air seems light and they all take advantage of what little breather they can get.

The sword of Gryffindor leans against a nearby tree where Hermione can look up frequently and puzzle over it. She thinks she has it figured out how it could be used to destroy the Horcrux, but that doesn't stop her from questioning it further when she has the time. Plus, it relaxes her. The book and the sword both do. She imagines she's in class at Hogwarts, reading for an assignment or looking up the answer in a book, but when her attention is brought back to the present it only makes her heart ache that much more.

There is a crunch in the woods and she looks up, weary that the protective charm she put up won't work. She sees nothing and so continues to pour over to book.

Standing up, she sighs, closing the book and ducking under the tent. It's about mid day and her stomach is growling. Food is scarce, but none of them have eaten all day.

True to what she thought, Harry and Ron are laying on their cots, listening to the radio with blank expressions. A voice drones a list of names and her heart cracks a little when she hears ones she think she might recognize. She reaches for her bag, and summons out slices of meat and bread.

"I'm going to make a sandwich," she tells the boys. "Do either of you want one?"

Ron regards her and rolls out of bed, following her to the table were she sets out the sliced ham and bread. He takes two slices of meat and bread, stuffing them quickly together and just as quickly in his mouth.

"Harry?" Hermione looks at Harry who hasn't moved from his cot.

His head lolls to the side. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I was thinking."

"I said there are sandwiches if you want one."

Ron takes another two slices of bread, fitting a piece of meat between them.

"Not hungry," Harry says, staring back at the fabric above them.

"What's wrong?" Ron asks with bread tucked in his cheek.

"I don't know where to look next." He props himself on his elbow, looking at them again. "We destroyed the locket, but what now? What's the next Horcrux? Where's the next Horcrux? We have no leads. Where do we even begin?"

"All we can do is look right now," Hermione says. "I've been thinking of places You-Know-Who would keep Horcruxes. There's the orphanage he grew up in and the Riddle house. And Hogwarts," she adds reluctantly.

"Those are good thoughts, Hermione, but we still don't know what we're looking for."

She sighs and nibbles at her bread. "I've been looking at Dumbledore's notes in Beedle the Bard, but so far I haven't found any hidden messages or clues. I'll keep looking though."

"How about we stay here a couple more days?" Ron suggests. "You can look in your books, Hermione, and, Harry, you and I can think of other places and things it might be. Then we'll decide where to look after that."

Harry's arms collapse underneath him and his head falls back on the pillow. "Fine."

"It sounds good, Ron," Hermione tells him encouragingly. She stuffs the rest of her sandwich in her mouth and leaves the tent again. She thinks she'll re-enforce the charms around their site and hope the walking will help her think.

As she leaves the tent, she pulls her wand from her pocket and walks until she can feel the boundary like faint static in the air. Her hair is pulled toward it, clinging to her face which she irritably brushes aside.

Something flashes out of the corner of her eye, making her stop. Someone is walking through the woods, metres from their site. Frozen, she watches the black figure pass in and out of trees. Their wand is drawn and a dark cloak billows behind them. A Death Eater. But how? They've covered their tracks and she is sure this spot isn't close to any Death Eater headquarters. An ice cube travels down her spine. Unless their headquarters is undetectable like their camp site.

Suddenly someone walks directly in front of her. Someone she recognizes. It's Draco. He is walking with his wand out, looking through the air in front of him with narrow eyes.

She's so startled to see him that she almost calls out to him. She comes so close to running past the boundaries and flinging herself on him. She has to physically stop herself by whitening her knuckles around her wand and breathing deeply. She can smell him and it makes her eyes itch. Abruptly, he stops walking, facing the sky, then turning in circles until he faces her directly and she swears his pale grey eyes are looking right into hers. She hasn't seen him in months and suddenly here he is, right in front of her, but miles away.

"Granger?" he barely whispers, taking her back. "Is that you?" His eyes search the air before him, all around her face. "I miss you," he mumbles and she has to swallow rocks to keep a sob from escaping her throat. "Listen to me," he says. "You need to leave. You have to get out of here. The Snatchers know you're here. They sent us out to scourer the area. These woods are going to be flooded with people looking for you. You need to leave now." He stops, looking at the spot where he thinks she is and sighs heavily. "Do not get caught, Hermione. Do you hear me? Do not get caught."

Swallowing, she nods even though he can't see her. His eyes drop and he turns, walking on blankly. She waits for him to disappear behind a tree and then dashes back to the tent, grabbing the sword from against the tree on her way in.

"Get up!" she tells Harry and Ron.

"What's wrong?" Ron asks.

She darts around, gathering their things and stuffing them in her back. "Death Eaters. Snatchers. Everywhere. We have to go now!"

They freeze as they hear a voice outside close by.

"I'm picking up something!" someone is saying. "There's been magic here recently."

"Where?"

"Right around here."

There is silence. Hermione looks at Harry who has frozen at the end of his bed. She raises her wand to put up a Muffliato charm, but he springs up, pulling down her arm.

She looks at him questioningly. He taps on her wand and then points to where the voices had come from. She nods, realizing she'd completely give them away if they detected her magic.

Ron quietly tightens the laces on his shoes and starts to gather up his radio and wand. Harry and Hermione mimic him, continuing to pack up their things as quietly as church mice.

"Anything?" one of the voices speaks again.

"No. Let's go."

"Wait." It becomes quiet for a moment and Harry, Ron, and Hermione listen tentatively. "I feel something."

"Like what?"

"Like static. There's a protection charm up around here."

Hermione's eyes widen. She strings her bag across her body and fits quietly through the tent flaps. There are two Snatchers outside. Both are gruff and hard looking with very hairy faces and broad shoulders. Their wild eyes scan around the area. She watches them for a moment until Ron bumps her from behind. She brings a finger to her lips and points at the men standing only metres away. He nods and stands beside her while Harry tiptoes out. She points her wand at the tent and takes Ron's hand. Harry takes out his wand too, getting ready to disapparate them away as soon as Hermione has collapsed the tent. He nods at her and grabs Ron's backpack.

She flicks her wand and the ten folds in on itself until it's a tiny box on the earthen floor.

"I'm getting something," one of the Snatchers says, looking at his wand which is glowing a bright blue. "There's definitely someone here. Should we call Greyback?"

"No. Get them first, then call him."

Hermione darts forward, snatching the cube from the ground. Linking her fingers back with Ron's she nods at Harry and they take off in a spinning ball of colour and light. She becomes dizzy, feeling her skin stretch over her teeth that rattle in her scull as they spin wildly.

Their feet slam on a carpeted floor. Hermione staggers for a moment, then, regaining herself, takes in where they are. It's a house. From the looks of it, a deserted one. The walls are bare except for shadows where pictures once hung, the floor has no furniture only the imprints where chairs and couches used to sit, the curtains are drawn so it's dark, and dust hangs in the air where it had been disturbed from the carpet. Still, Hermione thinks she recognizes the place.

"Harry?" she asks him. "Where are we?"

He's looking at the walls and the doors and the stairs like he's reading them and doesn't turn when he answers her. "This is my aunt, uncle, and cousin's old house." he says. "It's my old house."

"Harry, we can't be here!" Hermione tells him. "The Order wanted everyone out of here for a reason!"

"I'm sorry!" he says and flinches at how loud it came out. "It's the first place I thought of."

Hermione watches him look around the room and touch the doorknobs, and she realizes this is the place he'd called home for elven years and even after Hogwarts, this was still the place he always came back to.

"We'll stay for one night," she says. "But we sleep in shifts like normal and I want someone always watching the windows."

Ron nods and sets down his bag. Hermione reaches in her bag for sleeping bags and Harry wanders to the cupboard under the stairs. They all know there are enough rooms in the house, but Hermione doesn't think sleeping apart from each other would feel right, or safe.

When night comes, Hermione finds herself unable to sleep. She has an uncomfortable feeling and she can't stop thinking about Draco and what he said.

The Snatchers know you're here.

How could they know? What trace did the Snatchers have on them? They'd been so careful. Hermione tosses and turns with these thoughts. She is acutely aware of Ron's footsteps as he moves from the living room windows to the ones in the kitchen.

"Ron," she whispers. He turns around the face her. His eyes are tired and weak. "I'll keep watch now."

She climbs out of her sleeping bag and puts on her shoes as Ron climbs into his.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

She nods. "I can't sleep anyway. I might as well do something."

Every bone in her body aches with fatigue, but her brain refuses to rest. She leans her forehead against the window in the living room, squinting at the street lights uniformly standing strait-backed down the street. There is a cat stalking through the yard, but other than that, no movement whatsoever. She shuffles through the living room to the kitchen and hoists herself on the counter so she can sit while peering through the window. The yard is black, but nothing seems out of place.

A light, fuzzy feeling comes over her as she stares into the pitch. It's like staring into a black hole. And it's sucking on her, pulling her in. Before, she knows it, she's leaning toward the hole, loving the floating feeling it gives her. Then she's in it.

Hermione jerks awake. She's still on the counter, but it's a bit lighter out. Had she really fallen asleep? She couldn't believe herself. What if something had happened? She felt so stupid! Looking into the living room she could see that Harry and Ron were still asleep. Her neck is stiff from lolling to the side and she works the kinks out as she slides off the counter. Going to the living room, she pulls back the drapes to check the street. The sun isn't up yet, making the sky a dusky blue, sprinkled lightly with stars. The street looks empty and she goes to wake Harry up for his turn for watch when something in the kitchen window catches her eye.

Snatchers. At least five of them right outside the back door.

She kicks Harry. "Harry!" she says sharply. "Ron! Get up! Now! We have to go!" She doesn't wait for them. She darts for her wand and bag by her sleeping bag.

"What's wrong?" Harry asks, rubbing his eyes. He turns, catching sight of the Snatchers blasting open the door, but he doesn't have time to react. Something hits him hard in the face and he feels loopy, like his head is ten times too big.

Hermione lowers the wand from his face. "Sorry!" she says and the Snatchers are right in the room with them.

"Expelliarmus!" one yells and the Hermione's wand flies from her hand.

They come forward, one already has Ron, and two of the remaining grab Hermione and Harry by their collars, training their wands carefully on their necks. The last two are ones Hermione recognizes. Fenrir Greyback and Scabior. They stalk in front of the trio like lions stalk their prey through the tall savannah grass.

"Well, well, well," Scabior says, wringing his filthy hands together. "What do we have here?" He comes close to Harry who stares back through swollen eyes. "You're kind of an ugly fucker aren't 'ya? What's your name?"

Hermione looks nervously at Harry who's obviously thinking fast.

"Vernon Dudley," Harry says. His speech is garbled through his puffy lips.

"Check it," Scabior tells Greyback, all the while not taking his roaming eyes off Harry. Hermione starts to panic. He recognizes Harry. She's sure of it.

Greyback takes out a notebook and flips through it quickly. "Not here."

Scabior's nostrils flare, but he turns to Ron next. "And you are?"

"Stan Shunpike."

Ron's answer gets him a knock on the head. "No you ain't! Do you think I'm stupid? Tell me who you are and don't you fucking lie to me!"

"Barny Weasley!" Ron chokes out.

This time, Scabior spits on his face. "Fucking blood-traitor Weasleys!"

Ron lunges, but the Snatcher holding him tightens his grip on his arms. Scabior grins at him, reviling yellow rotting teeth.

Then it's Hermione's turn. He moves in front of her, looking her up and down.

"Name."

"Penelope Clearwater," she says quickly. "Half-blood."

He squints at her. "Check it."

"Wait," Greyback says, stepping forward. "I recognize her!" he's starting to get excited. "She's that Mudblood from the Daily Prophet known to be travelling with Harry Potter!"

Hermione's heart freezes and then starts pumping much too fast.

"Well, well, well!" Scabior says, grinning again. "This is just too perfect!" He looks at the three Snatchers holding them and then back at Greyback. "Let's go!"

Hermione feels the wind being sucked out of her as the Snatcher holding her disapparates. Her scull knocks and her teeth chatter and she feels like she's going to be sick.

Her feet slam on black-tile floor and she knows they're in the Malfoy Manor.

TBC next Sunday...

A/N: Thanks for tuning in again! Please don't forget to leave your thoughts!