January 18th

Even though her beaded bag was still full of food from the elderly woman's cupboards, Hermione waited until she could no longer hear footsteps above her head to sneak out of her hiding place. The family that owned the house hadn't been very quiet. In the middle of the night, she'd been startled awake by heavy footsteps. Initially fearing that she was about to be discovered, she relaxed when the pipes began clanging. Someone just needed a glass of water.

She waited until the upstairs had been silent for half an hour. Once when she had snuck into another cellar while the family slept upstairs, she made the mistake of going up the stairs immediately after the couple left for work. It had almost been a disaster when the husband rushed back home just minutes later to pick up his forgotten mobile. Hermione wasn't sure when those devices became a necessity for every single Muggle to possess and carry around at all times, but since hiding in the Muggle world, she discovered there was a great deal about their society that she didn't understand. Life had gone on while she was tucked up in Hogsmeade learning how to be a good Death Eater. Without her parents' tie to the world, she was a practical stranger.

The Muggles she was staying with were either overly trusting or entirely clueless. An outside door to their cellar had been left unlocked allowing a dangerous intruder entrance, and the door at the top of the stairs that led into their kitchen was also unlatched. Hermione didn't have any qualms about stealing from them at that point. They would get what they deserved. Ordinarily, she would stick only to the food they left in their cupboards. Because they were foolish enough to leave their doors unlocked, she resolved to take whatever she could find that had any value. Even in modest homes like theirs she could usually find some jewelry or small electronics that could fetch her a few pounds in another city.

After cramming all of the non-perishable food items they possessed into her bag, Hermione continued searching through the rest of the house. She had been very excited to discover the lady of the house was the exact same size she was. Several of her best clothing items ended up in her bag as well. It was rare that she had the opportunity to find new clothes. Much of what she was forced to wear was beginning to show its age. Laundrettes were clearly not as safe as she once thought they were. Other than the large items that she couldn't very well carry around herself without the aid of magic, there wasn't much else to steal. Perhaps she wasn't the first home invader this family had had in recent days. If they had the nasty habit of leaving their doors unsecured, it was no shock.

Hermione could move through a house swiftly when necessary. After every room had been examined for anything that could be taken, she helped herself to a meal of whatever she could find left in the kitchen. She had to save the jars and cans in her bag for the days she wasn't able to steal a good meal. Unfortunately, there were generally more of those days than there were of the other. When she was past satiated and on the verge of being too full to move, she headed back down the stairs to retrieve her blankets. It was best to get out of the house as quickly as she could. Hiding in houses in the daytime had an extra set of dangers.

"Don't even bother trying to Disapparate. I placed a ward around the house. Also locked all of the doors and windows upstairs while you were hunting. Thought it would be best that I remove all means of escape. Maybe then you'd actually talk to me."

She wasn't surprised to find Draco Malfoy sitting on the edge of the dusty sofa she'd spent the night on. Perhaps that was the nagging feeling in the back of her mind urging her to get out as soon as she could. Somehow she expected him to be back to bother her some more. How he kept finding her was a mystery she would've loved to have the answer to. 'Disconcerting' didn't even begin to describe how it felt each time he found her again.

Knowing that she was well and truly caught, Hermione sat down on top of a box a few meters from the interloper. There was a time to waste energy running and there was a time when it was better to listen to the enemy speak. She knew that no matter what she did, Malfoy would continue to find her. The Dark Lord valued his tracking skills over all others. He was only brought in when a challenge was presented.

"If I asked you how you found me, would you tell me?"

"And give away one of my secrets?"

He was teasing her. She didn't like it. A quirk of a smile on his lips made Hermione uneasy. In her past experiences with the wizard, when he was pleased, she usually wasn't.

"Tracking spell. On your coat."

Hermione's first instinct was to rip the offending garment off of her body. If it hadn't been so warm and so vital to her survival, she would have. Instead, she resolved that if she got out of that cellar without being a captive, the first chance she got, she'd steal another coat.

"While you were showering the other day, I cast it on your coat. Very simple incantation. I'll teach it to you if you want."

Appealing to her curiosity and desire to learn was a low move even for Malfoy. She narrowed her eyes and scowled. Was that the plan? Trick her into using her magic so she could be traced again? Antonin would appreciate the effort. She briefly considered using some of the more effective physical options for hurting the pest of a wizard until a thought came to mind that increased both her curiosity and her unease.

"If you knew how to find me at any time, why wait? You had plenty of chances the last few days."

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. It was a gesture that she had never seen from him. Or at least, if she had, many years had passed since then. Usually, he was so sure of himself. So confident in his magical prowess and the protection that being a member of his influential family provided that he had no reason to seem nervous or unsure.

"You're not my main priority right now, Granger."

For some unknown reason, that statement offended Hermione greatly. Maybe she had grown too used to the importance that had been placed on her since the war ended. She held a high place of honor within the Dark Lord's Inner Circle. Or, at least, she did. If she was captured and returned to her master, she would have to work very, very hard to prove herself worthy of the position again. Assuming, of course, that Antonin didn't have her immediately murdered for stabbing him in the eye with the fork. For a man who could forget to shave for months at a time, he was awfully vain about his appearance.

"Searching for you is something of a side job. A hobby."

"'A hobby?'"

"Like I told you before, I wasn't sent by anyone to find you. Not by the Dark Lord. Not by your…"

"Then why?"

Hermione reached into her pocket to feel the bluebell that was already wilted and halfway to being dry. She wanted to feel the reassurance it provided. If she wanted to keep it, she would have to press it between the pages of one of her books soon. But, she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with it yet. It was just another reminder of a past she was running from and a future that could never exist.

"I haven't decided if I can trust you yet."

She snorted, both amused and offended by his simple statement. Hadn't she been told that she was to trust him? Malfoy was confusing her the longer he sat perfectly still on the edge of the sofa. If his casual stance was to be believed, he was perfectly at ease speaking with his old rival in the cluttered and dirty cellar of an unknown Muggle family. Maybe her mind was finally going. She'd suspected it was beginning to for a long time. That had been the number one reason she ran out when she did. To preserve some semblance of her sanity before she came to an undoubtedly sticky end.

"I'll have to think about it some more before I decide."

Malfoy rose from the sofa. With a wave of his wand, Hermione could feel the rush of magic throughout the entire house. She felt confident even without testing the fact that if she tried to Disapparate, she would be successful. He nodded his head politely in her direction and crossed the cellar to the way out.

The slam of the door behind him jarred Hermione straight to her bones. If there was any sense to be made out of his strange visit, she wasn't sure where to begin. He left her with more questions than answers. And, for the first time since New Year's, she was almost looking forward to another unexpected visit from the enigmatic tracker. Almost.