February 16th

Even moving at a brisk pace, Hermione was only able to get a few dozen meters away from the tent before Draco stopped her by grabbing her arm. Unlike the men in her past who used to squeeze her limbs to a painful degree in order to get her to do as they wanted her, his touch was light, almost hesitant. He knew that she wasn't an enemy to be easily discounted. Free to use her magic or not, she could hurt him.

"Hermione, please don't go."

She could only remember a handful of times in the course of their entire acquaintance that he had used her first name. It was easier to fall back into the old habits from their school years. Much more impersonal and perhaps a little safer. The gentle tone of his voice as he pleaded with her yet again not to rush off into the night surprised her enough that she stopped moving.

"I don't see any reason to remain here, Malf… Draco."

If he was going to make the interaction more personal, she could at least have the courtesy to do the same. After several days of being alone in the woods, it really shouldn't be such a difficult task. He didn't remove his hand from her arm. The touch was still light. Part of Hermione wanted to brush his hand away, the other wanted him to stay right where he was. Her conflicting feelings towards the wizard were another reason why she knew she needed to get moving far away. She'd stayed too long. Gotten too comfortable. Her reasons for remaining as long as she had didn't make any sense at all, not even inside her own brain.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

Draco stepped closer, his hand sliding down her arm to rest on her elbow. Afraid of what she would see if she looked up, Hermione kept her eyes focused firmly on the buttons on his chest. She didn't want to admit that she was upset, that a simple question was enough to get her to run away.

"I assure you, you don't have the power to upset me."

Except he did. It was a foolish statement to make that had no basis in reality. Any remembrance of the day that she was forced to kill Oliver Wood for no other reason than Antonin told her to do so made her cringe and wish to hide away. For the rest of her life, no matter how long or short it might be, she would never be able to think about the former Quidditch Captain without wanting the ground to open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

"We've all had to do certain tasks that were unpleasant."

The diplomatic manner in which he mentioned the murders they were ordered to commit as Death Eaters almost made her laugh. Almost. Neither one of them were blameless. Anyone who carried the Mark of the Dark Lord on their arm had at some point bathed in the blood of their enemies. Or in the blood of the innocents. Sometimes they were the same. She knew it wasn't logical to fixate so much on one single murder in her past. Many more had followed Oliver. More than she knew she could ever put a number to. Maybe those who claimed they could remember the face of every single person they ever killed existed, but Hermione wasn't one of them.

She shook her head to try to stem the flow of the more unpleasant memories that always cropped up when she allowed her mind to travel down dangerous paths to her past. A day would come when she would have to answer for every single drop of blood she spilled. It was a daunting thought that terrified her more than she wanted to admit.

"I've stayed here too long. I'm not even sure why."

Hermione was able to turn halfway around from Draco before he stopped her again. This time his touch was firmer. Though far from being painful, he asserted his strength, a promise that he would use it to his advantage if necessary, clear. Knowing that he wouldn't let her go unless she took the time to actually hear him out, she sighed and spun back around.

"Where are you going to go next?"

"I'm not sure."

"You can't just keep wandering around waiting for someone to catch you."

Arguing with Draco Malfoy about her safety was not how she wanted to continue the evening. Especially not when it sounded like he might actually care what happened to her. She considered, once again, throwing his hand off her arm and running. If she kept going, eventually he would give up.

"And what is my alternative? Stay here in the woods with you? You won't even answer my questions about what's happening."

She was exhausted already of the tests she knew she was being subjected to. Even Ginny tried her own when she was there. Bringing William Wood hadn't been an accident. Nothing Ginny did wasn't calculated. The awkward, uncomfortable hug at the end of the visit? Just another test. Whether or not Hermione passed was a mystery. She still didn't understand the reason. For the briefest of moments she might have almost been successful in convincing herself that her old friend still cared about her, but the feeling was fleeting. Neither of them would ever be the same people again. The affectionate gesture felt hollow and wrong. Ginny was still her enemy no matter how many times she wrapped her arms around the older witch in an imitation of fondness.

Draco sighed and removed his hand from her arm. The loss of the simple human touch startled Hermione. She didn't realize how starved she was for any amount of attention. Over nine months on the run was messing with her already addled brain. It was no wonder she couldn't make sound decisions.

"It's complicated, Hermione."

She was all too familiar with that kind of response. It was what was used by those that wanted her to just shut up. Her entire life she'd heard others brush off her inquiries and concerns with those few words. Annoyed that he had the audacity, she snorted and rolled her eyes.

"If you don't trust me by now, Malfoy, you never will."

For a moment it seemed like he was going to try to argue with her, but he stopped himself. It would have been a waste of breath. She was fairly certain that there wasn't anything he could say that could get her to stay there a moment longer. Not even if he finally told her everything that she wanted to know about the Resistance, about why he was so intent on following her and finding her wherever she went. She'd stayed long enough. Too long. Her next destination might not have been known. All she knew was that he was an impediment to her freedom. He was likely to get her killed. She didn't want anything to do with the group she'd spent so many years fighting against.

"Is there nothing I can say that will get you to stay?"

"No, there's not. Besides, I don't even know why you want me to stay. You haven't told me anything."

The familiar burn of frustration began to make its way up from her stomach. Sighing, clearly understanding that he was going to get no further, Draco reached into the pocket of his trousers. She worried for a moment that he was about to use his wand to force her to stay. When he held out a scrap of parchment for her to take, she relaxed. He had to practically press it into her hand before she would touch it.

"There's an address on that. Go to it. Maybe it will be enough to prove to you that I'm on your side."

He seemed desperate to get her to listen to his words. Knowing that he wouldn't let her walk away without some kind of assurance that she would consider going to the place he asked, she tucked the parchment into her beaded bag. She would look at it later. Maybe. Once carefully stowed away, she turned from the tracker and resumed her escape from the woods. He didn't reach for her again or even try to follow. Just before she was out of earshot, she heard his last words.

"Try not to think too harshly of me when you get there."