February 11th

Hermione lay in her bunk listening to the sound of Draco Malfoy snoring softly in his sleep. So much had happened since he snuck up behind her to keep her from running back to her husband that her head was still spinning. She rolled over on her side to look at her surroundings again.

It had been years since she last used the old tent she shared with the boys during their horcrux hunt. Perhaps it had been sentimental to take it back from the nameless Snatcher who claimed it the night they were all caught and she had her first experience with the Cruciatus Curse, but she didn't care. As soon as she heard rumors that the cretin was bragging about owning it, she confronted him. By then, she was a favorite of the Dark Lord and had proven herself dangerous. Not wishing to make an influential enemy, he handed it over without a struggle.

The tent sat in a cupboard for years before she'd even look at it. Deciding she needed to face her past and stop running from it, she and Antonin used it to take their son camping when he was five. Other than a couple of uses when they went to the Quidditch World Cup as a supposedly happy family, it had been neglected. But, she made certain it was one of the first items she packed when she knew she had to run.

Of course, the problem with having a magical tent was needing magic to pitch it. Yes, it was theoretically possible to put it up without magic, but she didn't seem to possess enough hands or the necessary wingspan to do it by herself. Malfoy found it amusing to learn she carried around a perfectly safe shelter with her everywhere she went. He'd had fond memories of sleeping in tents as a young child. Knowing he wouldn't have to bother with the ridiculous peacocks his father always insisted on bringing with them everywhere they went was a relief. He didn't waste any time setting it up in the middle of a forest Hermione was unfamiliar with and casting the necessary charms to keep them concealed.

She still wasn't completely sure why they were in the woods. He said they were waiting on someone, but he refused to provide any clues beyond that. Not knowing who to expect wasn't something Hermione was comfortable with. It could be anyone. Considering he stopped her right before she could reveal herself to her husband, she didn't think Malfoy was waiting for a Death Eater to come collect her from the tent. More than a few times since she was rudely Side-Along Apparated without her permission she had been tempted to run.

Unbeknownst to her, she had been the subject of some kind of test. Again, Malfoy wouldn't give her any hints about his plans or even what the bloody hell he was talking about. The moment they landed far away from Hogsmeade, she fought to get out of his tight grip and began demanding to know what he was doing. The wizard had the gall to actually laugh at her! He wasn't frightened by her threats in the slightest. Only seemed to find them amusing.

"Relax, Granger. You're not in any danger."

"And I'm supposed to just trust you when you say that?"

Magically, they were evenly and well-matched. That was, of course, assuming that she wasn't as out of practice as she assumed she was. But, no matter how powerful she might be, she couldn't risk using magic. Not when Antonin was still searching for her with the singleminded obsession of his that she knew all too well. Malfoy could use all of the magic he wanted. As a tracker, he would be expected to use magic out in the middle of nowhere in the course of performing his duties.

Physically, she could hurt him. She could make him bleed, possibly even break a few bones. Her training had been very thorough and Antonin was a stickler for making certain his students learned how to defend themselves without the use of magic. But, she knew that even if she got a few good hits in or a kick or two, Malfoy would be able to best her. He was taller and outweighed her and as much as she hated to admit that there were any biological differences, she knew that as a man, he had strength she didn't possess.

Her best bet for surviving was to just go along with what he said until she had the opportunity to escape. She had no doubts that he would be able to find her again later, but it didn't matter. She was living moment to moment. The future was a problem she would worry about later. Immediate survival was all that mattered.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I could've announced your whereabouts to your husband. I'm sure Antonin would've been very pleased to learn about your coat. I could've told him where you were at any time."

"And why didn't you?"

Completely ignoring her question, he continued on with the same irritating smirk on his lips she wanted to scrape off with her fingernails. Despite having been intrigued by the wizard several times since the New Year, she was beginning to remember why and how much she hated him when they were in school. No one could blame her for allowing the loneliness of being a fugitive to get to her for a minute. She might have even found Marcus Flint to be diverting company and the man found regular bathing to be an annoyance.

"Or I could've told him about your private suite with Rook. I'm sure he would've loved to know you were hidden away with your ex-lover. Or, maybe… current lover?"

He was enjoying himself and she hated him. For years she had watched as Draco Malfoy stood around on the outsides of the influential circles and tried to make as few waves as possible. He seemed to have no ambition to improve his lot in life or his family's position in society. So different from the obnoxious prat who used to go on and on about how his father was an important man. The arrogance that always seemed to permeate his aura dissipated after the end of the war. Not that he ever seemed shy or weak. He just seemed different. His behavior in the woods was so similar to how he used to behave at Hogwarts that she could almost imagine they were back in school before the entire world changed.

"I already told you, Malfoy. I was sick."

"Rook's never seemed like a good nursemaid to me. How exactly did he help you get better?"

Not caring that he held the power and her curiosity about why he essentially kidnapped her hadn't yet been sated, Hermione stomped away. His laughter rang in her ears. She kept walking. When she'd made it no further than a few meters, Malfoy stopped her forward progress with another grip of her arm. She tried to shrug him off, but he wouldn't release his hold.

"Do you have somewhere important to be?"

"Yes, anywhere you're not."

She knew it was childish. Something about the wizard made her revert back to the adolescent she once was. It was ridiculous and immature. Almost like grasping for slivers of a childhood lost forever. Not at all offended, her companion only laughed again. It was beginning to be a habit with him. The only difference from his laughter when they were at Hogwarts together was the distinct lack of cruelty in it. He was laughing, but she didn't think he was laughing at her. Small difference.

"Don't leave."

"Are you going to tell me why you dragged me here against my will?"

His smirk slipped, but didn't disappear completely. Malfoy cleared his throat.

"I gave you those newspapers because I wanted to see what you would do when you found out what happened to the Jordans."

In all of the excitement, she'd almost forgotten about her purpose for returning to Hogsmeade. As awful as it sounded, she had been able to push thoughts about the ruined family to the back of her mind while she dealt with the present concerns she had. It was the only way she could continue to keep surviving. Moment by moment. Now that she was reminded of their fate, she sighed.

"I found it very interesting that you went back to your home. Were you planning on turning yourself in to Antonin? To make certain that he didn't hurt anyone else in his search for you? Or to see if he could get Lee Jordan released?"

"You were waiting for me there. How did you know I'd show up?"

"I didn't. I simply hoped you would."

His words struck a funny chord within her. She didn't understand anything that was happening and he had never been the kind of person to freely give out information. Malfoy played his cards close. He would only tell her what he wanted her to know. It was infuriating, but at least it was something.

"And now that you know I did?"

"Not sure yet, Granger. You passed the first test. There are still more to come."

"What tests? What is the purpose, Malfoy?"

She was losing her patience. He knew it and didn't care. The smirk morphed into a full blown grin.

"To find out if you can be trusted, of course."