February 14th

The years had been kind to Ginny Weasley. Too often when Hermione thought about the witch that had once been her friend, she thought only of the fragile, small girl she used to be. Somehow it was too difficult to reconcile the fierce woman standing only feet away with the image she'd carried around for so long. Despite having a rather eventful life, she had grown into a strikingly attractive woman. She was the kind of witch who turned heads without much effort. Certainly not like Hermione. Attempting to ignore the flare of jealousy that crept up, Hermione continued her survey of the practical stranger.

Underage at the time of the Final Battle, she hadn't been an active fighter. Sure, she snuck out of the Room of Requirement the first chance she could to get in on the action, but not as much as she had hoped. It must have been frustrating to see her entire family in danger, including the wizard she was in love with, and be unable to do anything. Her older brothers had been incensed when they discovered her outside of the protection of the room. Ginny didn't care. She wanted to be a part of protecting their world from the onslaught of the Darkness she was convinced in her soul would overtake it with Lord Voldemort's victory.

Hermione could still hear the sounds of the girl's cries when Harry fell to the floor of the Great Hall dead. It was not a resonance easily forgotten. Rarely did one have the chance to hear a person break down entirely. How she managed to make it out of the castle and off its grounds before she was captured had been a mystery. No doubt one of her older brothers picked her up and threw her over their shoulder. She hadn't been in any rush to leave the room where her boyfriend lay dead.

"Are you here to kill me?"

It was an honest question. Anyone in her position would've been a fool not to ask it. The cold laughter from William Wood caused the hair to stand up on the back of her neck. If it was left up to him, she would already be dead. Ginny turned her full focus on the likely unhinged man standing next to her. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, squeezed it and rubbed it lightly. It was an intimate gesture that served to calm the man down. He was still a loose cannon, but Ginny had a measure of control over him. Apparently, the redhead hadn't been wasting her life pining after the wizard she lost. Hermione was glad. Life was too damn short to remain faithful to a ghost.

"Believe it or not, Hermione, we're not here to harm you."

No matter how convincing her tone might have been, she did have trouble believing Ginny. Years earlier when the Resistance began to make serious strides in becoming more than just an annoyance to the regime, Antonin forbade Hermione from engaging directly with those who had once been her friends. Initially furious that he would dare tell her what to do, she declared that she wouldn't be ordered about by her husband and would be doing as she damn well pleased. Understanding that she was completely serious in her threats, Antonin tried a different tactic. He went directly to their master to tell him how dangerous he thought it would be to have her near the Resistance. Because he was such a trusted follower, the Dark Lord upheld the orders he gave his wife. No longer could she ignore them.

Her husband's concern had been that she would eventually have to come face to face with Ginny Weasley at some point. No one was one hundred percent certain how the leadership of the Resistance worked. There was some speculation that Ginny was only the face of the Resistance while Aberforth Dumbledore was the true holder of the power behind the scenes. Rumors that Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't underground in the Muggle world were also prevalent. Maybe he was the one calling all of the shots.

It didn't matter to Antonin. He feared that emotions and passion would get in the way if his wife, the mother of his only child, crossed paths with the witch that rallied the troops. She was a fearsome foe, one that he would've gladly faced in battle. Hermione might have been flattered that he cared enough about her safety to keep her sheltered if it didn't mean she was on restricted duty. She wasn't afraid of Ginny or any of the others.

"Why are you here then?"

"I'm here to see if I think there's any of the Hermione you used to be still inside you somewhere or if you're a brainless, soulless Death Eater. Will is here because he's a prat who didn't listen to me when I told him to stay home."

Ginny had never been the kind of person to tiptoe around the point she wanted to make. Hermione could respect that about her. Similar in many ways to her mother, she said what was on her mind with little thought to how it might be perceived or how she might sound to others listening. It was a trait that could be both charming and infuriating at the same time.

"Draco has probably already given you a hint what we're trying to do."

"Overthrow the Dark Lord?"

She snorted and smiled a true grin. It completely changed her entire persona. Hermione might not be the only one of them that still carried a bit of their old selves deep down inside after all. Seeing even a glimpse of her old friend was encouraging.

"Something like that. We have an ally from your side that insisted we make certain you remained safe. Powerful friend you have, Hermione. Didn't want you harmed. It was a condition made in exchange for their help."

Hermione found that information surprising. Who would possibly care what happened to her if the upcoming planned revolution was a success? She'd certainly burned more bridges than she'd built.

"I won't lie. I was a bit reluctant to agree to the terms. You'll understand if I was a bit leery of willingly helping you. Still am, honestly. You have quite a reputation. One that has been well-deserved."

Nothing she said could be argued. Hermione knew it was true. As much as she might have wished to get angry at the younger woman's words, she couldn't. Ginny was just being honest. Sometimes it was easy to ignore the truth when the truth was painful.

"Have you seen my brother recently?"

She shook her head. Even before she stabbed her husband in the eye with a fork and had to make a quick getaway from the life she'd built, she hadn't had much to do with her former best friend and sort-of almost ex-boyfriend. Their lives took very different paths.

Ron had changed irrevocably under Rabastan's tutelage. Of course, she had done the same under Antonin's. Except, there was something different about him. She had become brutal and dangerous and calculating because she had to be, had to keep up with the other Death Eaters or they would eat her alive. There weren't any other Muggle-borns in the Inner Circle or even in the lowest ranks. Not even a single Muggle-born Snatcher. An exception had been made for her that many resented. She had to work twice as hard to prove herself. Ron, however, had been welcomed with open arms because finally the once-proud Weasley name was being redeemed. The attention had gone to his head, if she was perfectly honest. He'd changed in many different ways to the point that she would politely nod at him if in the same room, but nothing more.

"Do you think he'd ever change his mind?"

Hermione didn't hesitate to shake her head again. No, he'd found the position he longed for. Truthfully, she knew his parents, especially his late mother, would be ashamed of his actions. They did not raise him that way.

"I'm not surprised. My brother's finally found something he's good at, hasn't he?" Ginny sighed, sadness etched across her face. "Must be difficult to want to go back to the shadows and be obscure again. He wouldn't like that."

She was resigned to her brother's fate. After all, there was nothing that she could do to change the desires of a grown man. Ron made his choices. Allowing herself only a few moments to wallow in self-pity, Ginny shook her head and raised her eyes back to meet Hermione's. In an instant she was all business again.

"You have a great deal of influence, Hermione. We want you to use it to keep your little mates in masks from interfering with our plans to overthrow Lord You-Know-What."

Hermione didn't understand at all how she could possibly help. Being on the run and away from the center of the action meant that she didn't have many opportunities to speak to her former comrades, let alone influence them to stay out of a possible civil war.

"But, we're still not certain about your loyalties yet. Until Draco says you can be trusted, we aren't asking you for anything."

Ignoring the offended expression that appeared on Hermione's face against her will, Ginny stepped across the small living space of the tent to actually hug Draco. That had been unexpected. She hadn't been aware that they were that friendly. When William Wood shook Draco's hand like they were old, friendly acquaintances, she thought she might have lost her mind. Everything was a dream. Only when Oliver's older brother glared in her direction as he exited the tent was she reminded that everything was very real. It seemed unlikely that they would ever get past their differences.

She was hesitant in her movements at first, but Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione before she left. Startled by the affectionate gesture, she didn't return it until it was almost too late. Both witches stood in the dimness of the lanterns inside of the tent simply clinging to the other for several long moments. It felt bizarre and completely natural. She'd missed her friend.

Draco walked their remaining guest out of the tent. What they spoke about in the brief few minutes they stood outside the tent together was anyone's guess. Hermione wasn't even sure she wanted to know. He returned only after ensuring all of the enchantments he'd pulled down earlier were back up. Finished with his task, he spun around with the same amused grin that she was beginning to find not-so-terrible.

"Alone again, it seems."