January 9th

"Well, I suppose I should be thankful that you haven't forgotten my little brother."

"Of course I haven't forgotten him."

Wood's laughter echoed through her prison. There was the faintest hint of mania behind it that put Hermione on edge. Not that she could blame him exactly. He had very valid reasons to not like her. Many people did. But, maybe he had more reason than most.

"Is that what this is all about? Oliver?"

Even saying his name made her stomach lurch. His older brother didn't notice. Or if he did, he wasn't moved. A person's past usually had a way of coming back to haunt them later. Hermione was no exception.

"Did you follow me the other day because of your brother?"

"Partly."

He began moving around the room like a wild animal pacing in its too-small cage. Though the dank and dingy space had never felt large, Hermione could almost swear the walls were beginning to close in around them. Oliver's older brother's anger was rapidly growing.

She'd had enough experience around men and women who were at their breaking point. This was a man who wasn't holding it all together very well. He might have been able to be charming in the launderette and smile and laugh during her kidnapping, but he was cracking. All evidence of him being a part of the Dark Lord's government or in his employ disappeared. She recognized what a man living on the outskirts of the regime looked like. Either he was a rogue who had been fortunate enough to keep out of trouble or he was a member of the Resistance.

"Are you aware that we have observers at all major entry points into this city?"

Resistance, then. She shook her head 'no'.

"If an undesirable enters the city through Muggle means, we almost always are aware of it. It's helpful. Some of the Death Eaters think they're being clever taking the train or riding a bus. We know what we are looking for."

Keeping him talking was going to be her best chance at survival. Every word that dripped from his tongue was delaying his plans just a little more. It also gave Hermione time to come up with a plan. And, if she was lucky, he'd start to get emotional and make mistakes.

The first rule of detaining a hostage is to maintain a level head. Don't attempt to connect with them on any kind of personal level. Stockholm Syndrome might work in the movies, but it's harder than it looks to get a captive to form an emotional attachment when one holds their very existence in their hands. Especially if time is limited. Without any food or water, she wasn't expecting her captivity to last long. There's no need to waste precious resources on someone who isn't going to remain a 'guest' for long.

"And someone saw me get off the bus?"

"Yes, they did. Thought I'd be interested to know about it too."

"Look, Mr. Wood, I'm very sorry about your brother. Truly. He was a very nice man."

His scoff of disbelief made her want to roll her eyes, but she didn't want to escalate the situation any further. That was rule number three or four in being a hostage. Remaining calm and keeping the captor calm. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time she'd been held prisoner. Something told her that if she managed to make it out alive, it wouldn't be her last either. She kept her gaze focused and allowed no emotion to cross her face.

"I suppose this is where you are going to say something trite like 'orders are orders', am I right?"

The implication that she had no remorse over what had been nothing more than a tragedy struck Hermione right in the gut. Is that what everyone else thought too? That she was a soulless automaton who did as she was told?

"No. I was just going to say that it's a shame your brother got in the way of my survival. I had to defend myself. If the roles were reversed, he would've done the same thing to me without hesitation."

"I wish he would've."

"Yeah, well, some days I wish so too."

It was the truth. Oliver Wood was the first life she'd ever taken. During the war, she had had some success in disarming and injuring the enemy, but none of them died by her hand. She had been too timid, too afraid to blacken her soul with the magic that could've obliterated them from the earth. Only after the war was truly lost had she graduated to using deadly force.

She would never forget Oliver Wood. For the rest of her life, she would think about that moment. If she could take it back and they could both survive, she would've done it in a heartbeat. But, she refused to feel guilty that she survived. And to be certain that she never forgot Oliver and forgot what she had been forced to do by those who were now in charge, she'd even…

No, she refused to even allow her mind to travel down that road. She shook her head as if she could somehow physically dislodge those thoughts from her brain. It was better that she not think them. Better that she not think about how she chose to honor Oliver's memory and to keep the reminder of his sacrifice alive. Too painful. She had to keep going forward, not looking back.

"So now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?"

"That's entirely up to you, Miss Granger."

Hermione spun around in place at the sound of the third voice in the basement. She hadn't even heard the door open or another person descend the staircase. What was wrong with her? Had she been that lax in her precautions lately to allow another wizard to sneak up behind her unaware? If she managed to make it out of this, she was going to have to reevaluate her survival skills. Another slip-up like that could cost her her life.

"Do you still answer to Miss Granger? Or should I call you Madam…"

"Granger will be fine."

Aberforth Dumbledore somehow managed to look even younger than he did before the war ended. Perhaps it was shaving off the long, ridiculous beard he used to have. Though he still had his face covered in whiskers, they were cropped closer to his skin. Likewise, his hair was much shorter. Clearly, he was trying to blend in better with the Muggles. His blue eyes, so similar to his elder brother's, did not twinkle as he stared down his crooked nose at her. She wasn't sure yet if her situation had improved or if it had gotten much, much worse.

"Thank you for your help, William. You may leave now. I'd like to speak with Miss Granger alone."

Her abductor did not like being dismissed so easily. As he stormed out of the basement, he glared at Hermione, the promise that their interactions were far from over seared in his eyes. He would be a problem again for her someday, she was certain. Aberforth didn't speak again until the sound of William's stomps up the stairs and the door slamming behind him died down.

"Why are you in Edinburgh? You're not welcome here."

"Yes, I've already figured that one out for myself."

"This is not a joke, Granger. William would kill you if given half a chance."

Part of her wished he would. At least then she could stop running. It was getting to be very exhausting and there was no end in sight.

"Now, I thought it was made clear to you the last time you dropped into our city that you weren't welcome back. Why are you here?"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, willing the tense headache that was forming to go away. She hadn't been in the city for months. Since long before she ran away. On a mission to discover the Resistance's stronghold, she'd almost been captured then too. It was only sheer numbers on her side that allowed her to escape. But, of course, not before she was left with the warning that the next time she was found there, they wouldn't be so quick to let her go.

Truthfully, she hated the city. She would've rather been anywhere else than there. Something compelled her to buy a ticket to Edinburgh. She didn't know why. The pessimist in her thought maybe she was looking for a reason to get caught. Dumbledore was sometimes assumed to be the leader of the Resistance. He'd been offered the ability to stay in his own home and live out the rest of his days tending the bar in his pub. The required oath to the Dark Lord had been a condition he wasn't prepared to accept.

"I'm running. I had to get out of London for a few days."

"You foolish child." He shook his head and sighed. "Half the Resistance are calling for your head. You're a traitor."

"I never betrayed the Resistance."

She knew he was going to let her go again. The look of resignation in his blue eyes was all she needed to know. He'd fought a good fight already. Though he'd lost many of his own people, Aberforth Dumbledore still had a soft spot for Harry Potter's best friend.

"Leave the city. Immediately. I'll make certain William doesn't harm you, but I cannot and will not make promises that I'll protect you again. Stay out of our city."