March 6th

Though it was a difficult decision, Hermione decided not to leave the confines of the Resistance's protected village just yet. She wasn't sure what kept her rooted in place. Likely it was a combination of fear, poor judgement, and just the sheer exhaustion of imagining what it would be like to go back out into the world with no set place to go. At least for the immediate time being, she would stick it out, stay with the Jordan family, and figure out her next plans while being fed on a regular basis. Food and shelter were often two parts of life that people took for granted.

After making a decision that she would try to do more to help around the house, she emerged from her bedroom to join her host family for breakfast. Though they were all surprised to see her willingly partake in a meal with them at the table, no one said anything. She was grateful that they didn't make a big deal out of it. The encouragement to not do it again would have been too strong at that point.

When the plates were empty and the respective members of the family were preparing to get up from the table to go about their daily routine, Hermione rose from her seat. They all expected her to go back into her room. She hadn't said a single word over the lavish spread of pancakes and bacon. It had been more enjoyable for her to remain silent and listen. As she began to pick up the dirty plates to carry them over to the sink, they all stared at her in complete shock. She chuckled softly and continued about the task.

Sarah started to insist that she stop washing the dishes, but Lee stopped her with a whispered assurance that Hermione could do as she wished. Their guest was again thankful. She wanted to feel normal. Wanted to feel like she wasn't just some loner living in a corner of their house. Antonin always insisted on doing the dishes at home. He maintained that it helped him clear his mind. She hoped that she would discover there was some truth in his claims.

Washing the dishes led to scrubbing the table. Then to the floors. As much as she hated to admit that he was right about anything, cleaning in the Muggle way actually did calm her down. Using magic was convenient, but it took no time and very little effort. While she was focused on cleaning, she could hardly focus on anything else. Some of her worries about what to do next lessened. A ridiculous stray thought about offering her services to the other ladies in the village as a way to make them hate her less made her laugh. As if that would ever happen.

The kitchen was spotless when the back door opened to admit a guest Hermione wasn't expecting. One aspect of living in the village that she had discovered was that most of its inhabitants came and went as they pleased. It wasn't unusual to be sitting at the dining table enjoying a meal and the front door open to admit several neighbors. She didn't care much for the custom of open doors. It was another reason why she had been so reluctant to leave her bedroom in the beginning of her stay. Too often she would step out of the door to see hostile faces in the living room or kitchen glaring at her and wishing she would disappear.

"Hermione, do you mind if we speak somewhere private?"

She bit her tongue before she blurted out that she did mind speaking to Ginny alone. In fact, there were about a million other tasks she would rather complete. One of them was even returning to her husband in disgrace to await her punishment. Deciding that as long she remained with the Resistance it was easier if she just went along with what was asked of her, Hermione nodded her head and led the way to her bedroom.

Neither of the women spoke immediately after the door he was closed. A tension hung heavy in the air that was impossible to ignore. At least the last time they were forced to be relatively alone to speak they were joined with Draco and the lunatic Wood. With just the two of them, it felt eerily similar to all of the nights Hermione slept in a bed in Ginny's room at the Burrow. She could almost ignore the subtle lines that had popped up around their eyes to convince herself this was just another holiday spent at the Weasley home.

"Will told me that you two had a chat the other day."

Hermione sighed. Of all of the possible topics available, she most certainly did not want to discuss the uncomfortable conversation she'd had with the man who was steadily becoming the number one reason why she thought she needed to leave her temporary shelter. Just knowing that he was nearby caused her stress. Yes, he might have been told in no uncertain terms that he wasn't allowed to hurt her as long as she remained within the wards, but would that really keep him tethered? If he lashed out at her and she was severely wounded or even killed, would the Resistance even care? She was one of their enemies! Had been for a very long time. He would likely get a slap on his wrist, told to not be a naughty boy again, and then life would move on for everyone else except for his victim.

"Yes, we did."

She stopped herself before she complained about him threatening her. What would be the use? She didn't want to make it seem like she was too weak to take care of herself. If it came down to it, if she truly feared for her life, she wouldn't sit idly by to watch it happen. Lack of practice might have made her rusty with her magic, but she wasn't helpless. There was a reason why she had risen so far in the ranks of the Death Eaters and it wasn't because of the man who slept next to her every night. She was well-respected long before she was ordered to marry her teacher.

"I suppose I should apologize for him."

"Are you often in the habit of making apologies for him?"

As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione was intrigued by the relationship Oliver Wood's older brother had with Ginny. When they were in the tent, she noticed how the witch was able to calm him down with a touch of his arm. That was no ordinary touch. Only those who had an intimate relationship could exert such influence over another. No one knew much about Ginny's personal life. There were people within their regime whose sole function was to discover everything they could about the Resistance's leaders. Entire files existed for each of the people she saw in the living room of the stranger's home days earlier. Some of them were quite thorough. Others, like Ginny's, were woefully lacking. Whatever she had been doing had been done skillfully under the radar.

"Only every now and again. Usually he's quite pleasant. Most people like him. But, like Oliver with his Quidditch, he can get a bit intense sometimes."

"Is he… yours?"

"I don't know how much of him I could actually claim, but we do have a daughter together."

That news was surprising. There had never been any mention of a child. Probably for the best. Death Eaters were known to kidnap children to make their parents behave how they wished. No doubt Ginny hid her pregnancy for as long as she could and then went into hiding. Wherever the child was usually kept, it clearly wasn't by her side at all times.

"She's four. Lives with Will's mother most of the time in Edinburgh. I'm telling you the whereabouts of my only child because I want to prove to you that I believe you can be trusted."

Her admission was surprising. If the roles were reversed, Hermione would never tell anyone where Ollie was. Occasionally she wasn't a completely dreadful mother. It truly was an act of trust. Or, it was an elaborate lie designed to wedge Hermione into a trap. Either way, she wasn't about to head off for Edinburgh to find the child. As far as she was concerned, she didn't exist and there was no reason to find her.

"Is this why you came? To talk about Wood?"

Changing the subject back to the original seemed like a safer route. Speaking about children with another mother was never a comfortable task for the hardened Death Eater. She found it difficult to relate to them. If she had had her choice, her son wouldn't even exist. That was something of a downer in any conversation. More than a few believed she was a terrible human being solely on her under-abundance of maternal feelings.

"No, I actually came to encourage you not to run away."

"Who said I was leaving?"

"I think it's pretty obvious you don't want to be here, Hermione. I can only imagine how uncomfortable you must be here. It's not something that I'm free to discuss yet, but I think it best that you stay here for now. We're planning something very soon and I think you are going to want to be a part of it."

Hermione highly doubted it. She wanted to live a quiet life away from the threat of the Resistance and away from the Darkness she had been living in for far too many years to count. There still existed a hope within her that she would eventually find what she desired, find a part of the world she could be left alone.

Feeling that she had made her point perfectly clear, Ginny rose from the edge of the bed she had been sitting on. She had always been annoyingly self-assured. Well, about everything but Harry, of course. It took her a while to learn how to be herself around the wizard she'd fancied since she was ten. With everyone else, however, she didn't lack confidence. Some things, it seemed, never changed.

"I guess we will see, Ginny."

"Think about what I said. I meant it. You're going to want to find out what we're up to."

As she turned the knob on the bedroom door, Ginny turned over her shoulder to utter one last sentence.

"And I'll see what I can do to keep Will away from you."