January 2nd
Leaving the house she'd been in the day before was a great disappointment. At the very least, it was a waste of valuable time. Hermione had watched the elderly couple who lived there for days to discover what she could about them. A chance encounter behind the wife in line at the market informed her that they would be going on a month-long trip to a warmer climate. Hiding in their car and sleeping in their backseat for three nights had been a small price to pay for the knowledge that she would have a solid month to hide in their home without fear that she would be discovered.
And then Malfoy had to come around and ruin her plans. Even the feel of his name on her tongue was bitter. He always showed up when and where he was least wanted. It was no longer safe for her to linger. How he was able to find her was a mystery, but she didn't want to see him again to ask. If she had it her way, she would never see the pale-faced ferret again. Some wounds never healed. And, he'd hurt her a lot in their younger days.
It was too risky to try to find another home to squat in on such short notice. She needed time to plan first. So, to her great disappointment, Hermione dipped into the meager savings she had tucked away in the beaded bag she never went anywhere without to purchase a couple of nights in one of the seedier London hotels. No one asked a lot of questions in establishments like those. Everyone kept to themselves. She might have to worry about bedbugs, but at least she could have some uninterrupted time to figure out her next move.
Her thoughts kept returning to Malfoy's sudden appearance. If she had been a superstitious person, which she certainly wasn't, she would've believed that his arrival on New Year's was the sign that the months ahead weren't going to be kind to her. Malfoy had a dangerous reputation of being a wizard who could find those that didn't wish to be found. She wondered if he was responsible for sending him out after her and quickly decided that there was no other explanation. At least she could be thankful that the younger Malfoy was sent instead of the older. Lucius wouldn't have tried to convince her to return with words. It would have been a fierce duel until there was a victor. If she never had to see that embarrassing excuse for a wizard again, she would be thankful.
She'd lingered too long in the country. Maybe breaching the borders and setting up a new life in a place where no one had ever heard the name Hermione Granger would be the best option. Several she knew had already done it. Not just to run from the threat of Death Eaters, but also to run from responsibility, wives, unhappy children. There were a million reasons to flee.
The United States was not a possibility. MACUSA had made their stance against accepting any refugees from Great Britain's Civil War very plain. They were not welcome. Pompous arseholes, the lot of them. Too afraid of their own shadow and their tenuous grasp on their own society. How anyone ever believed that one set of Ilvermorny graduates tucked away in their small corner in New York City could effectively speak for the entire nation was beyond her and anyone else with half a brain. They were too diverse, too rich in cultures, too spread out to accept one set of leaders who didn't even represent them. No, the US had its own set of problems. Even if they would have allowed her sanctuary, Hermione didn't want to get pulled into any of the minor scuffles they were constantly having within their borders.
Australia was far enough away that she thought maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't expect her to move there. Except for the fact that her parents were still living there blissfully with no memory of ever having a daughter. Some secrets were impossible to keep forever. The sad history of her Muggle parents was a secret no longer. No, running there would just bring an even larger target to her unsuspecting parents' backs. They deserved better than that. Besides, she wasn't sure that she could bear to be near her parents and not be a part of their lives again. It was safer for them to remain ignorant.
Viktor Krum made it clear in an encoded missive long before she made her escape that she would always be welcome in Bulgaria. She was certainly tempted to accept, but knew that too wouldn't work. Perhaps if she'd run earlier. Maybe it would've worked right after she received his message. Now it was too dangerous. He and his lovely wife had a child to worry about. Hiding a fugitive was an excellent way to get them all murdered. Just like her parents, they deserved better than to be cursed with the presence of the damned.
Hermione sat down on top of the bed. With her back against the headboard, she tried not to allow her mind to wander to thoughts of what sort of illicit activity the mattress beneath her had seen in its time. She always kept extra blankets in her beaded bag to keep from being forced to use ones she couldn't entirely trust.
There had to be more options. Giving up and just allowing herself to be captured again wasn't one. At least not one that was worth even contemplating. She would rather die than go back to what she had been forced to endure. That wasn't living. That was merely existing, waiting for the moment her heart stopped beating. More than once she hoped that they'd finally catch up with her and put an end to the waiting.
The uncertainty of how her life was going to play out was threatening to drive her mad. If she went back, she knew that every moment of her day for as long as she lived would be planned out in advance. She would have little say in what happened to her if she did. Each day would be shockingly like the last with only bursts of inevitable violence sprinkled throughout the passing weeks. Was almost constant misery worth the peace of mind that knowing her future would bring?
She thought she had been happy once. It seemed a lifetime ago. At least, she wasn't entirely miserable all the time. There were pockets of what could have been happiness if it hadn't been tainted with the darkness they fought to survive in. The Dark Lord poisoned all he touched. Her life was no different.
It was clear that the answer to her worries would not be discovered that day. Knowing that a long, uninterrupted night's sleep was what she needed to make everything seem less dire, Hermione pulled her clean blankets out of her bag to settle in. Perhaps answers to the question of what she would need to do next would come to her as she slept.