A/N: thanks to my lovely friend TheFrenchPress for the photo inspiration for this chapter, viewable at ao3
He stopped by every few days, almost always while she was in her lab. Hermione never bothered to change the wards.
He never stayed long, always refusing her invitation for tea.
She walked every day.
Out in the crisp autumn air, she felt her lungs release the breath they'd been holding for a year.
Maybe if she walked far enough, the wind would slowly erode the atoms sitting on her skin, in her senses, that still drove rivets of pain through her soul every day.
"Would you like to join me?" she asked him one day, taking off her lab gear. "I fancy a walk."
"No, I shall be going." He had just been standing in the doorway watching her work anyway. He never came farther into the room. Never engaged her beyond basic conversation or remarks about her safety practices.
Unable to hold back after weeks of his semi-presence in her life, her curiosity got the better of her. "You still haven't told me why you wanted to sell your house."
"No, I have not." He didn't move, but his tone was decidedly cooler.
"The realtor said there was an accident," she hedged.
"Miss Granger," he warned, black eyes boring into her with a severity she hadn't seen in years.
"Will you tell me where you're staying now?" she asked instead, dragging one finger along the table's invisible dust, hoping to bargain.
He paused for several long seconds before finally saying, slowly and with a tone to indicate the conversation was over, "In town."
She nodded receptively to herself. In town. All right. He was still close.
She still had time.