March 10th

There was a serious possibility that isolation was driving Hermione completely insane. She was used to spending her life in the constant company of others. As a child, she was often dragged to her parents' dental practice to spend the days and hours she wasn't at school sitting behind their receptionist's desk trying not to annoy the poor woman with her constant questions. It was where she learned to love books. When she was told to be quiet, she would just open up another volume and lose herself in the words. But, even reading in the middle of a crowded room wasn't being alone.

Her parents had their faults. They worked too much and didn't always give her the proper amount of attention. When she was around other children's parents, she thought it strange that there were mothers who were constantly nagging their children or following them around to make certain they were safe or stayed out of mischief. Half the time she felt like her mum didn't even know where she was. A baby born late in her life and long past her supposedly prime child-bearing days, her mother had already had an entire lifetime by the time little Hermione arrived as a complete and utter surprise. Fitting in the new complication wasn't always easy. Perhaps it would have been better all round for everyone involved if their little accident hadn't been allowed to be born. Maybe they would have all been happier.

When she was in school, her friends thought it strange that her Muggle parents didn't seem to mind that despite spending most of the year hundreds of kilometers away, she would often spend weeks of the holidays at the Weasley home. Ginny once asked her when they were in the dark of her bedroom at the Burrow if she thought her parents would mind if she just moved in with her family on a permanent basis. Though she was quick to state that her parents enjoyed having her in their lives, she spent most of that night brushing away the tears that rolled out of her eyes as Ginny slept. It was a sore subject. One that even as an adult she hadn't yet gotten over.

There had been an opportunity to restore their memories when the war was over. Even before they were married, Antonin wanted to do what he could to help her bring her parents back to their home country. He had no use or love for Muggles, but he knew that she still harbored a secret hope that a time would come when the parents who bore her would one day be proud of who she had become. Sometimes he was infuriatingly insightful. He knew what made her feel inferior and wanted to do what he could to aid her in some way. She had thanked him, insisted it was unnecessary, and tried to forget that they ever existed. Years after they married, he brought up the subject again. With a kiss, she thanked him again, never changing her mind.

They had each since gone and died on her, so it didn't really matter any longer. Muggles were entirely too fragile, their lives too short to really matter. Maybe one day she would be able to forgive them for all of their inadequacies. Somehow, she doubted it was possible. After all, they'd not only abandoned her long before she wiped their memories, but they'd also cursed her with the same foul traits she hated. No doubt a day would come when Oliver would look back on his relationship with his terrible mother and curse her very existence too. She held no illusions that the loss of her other babies weren't actually blessings. Wasn't it bad enough that she was ruining one poor child's life? An entire house full of damned children would be too much for her battered soul to bear.

She hadn't moved from her bedroom since her uncomfortable conversation with Lee. Imagining the possibility that her husband was pining away for her instead of planning her demise was too much. It was insanity, pure and simple. Antonin had grown clever in his deceptions, that was all. His best friend Thorfinn was likely just going along with the charade. Even though he promised her that he wouldn't tell her husband that he'd seen her, she was certain that the blond had already unburdened his conscience. Maybe they were both waiting for her to return to the same sticky Muggle cafe in Hannah's village.

As much as she might have craved the company of others, she knew it was safer to stay right where she was. Too much could go wrong if she stepped foot outside her door. And not just that she was constantly surrounded by enemies who wanted to kill her. If she managed to do something foolish, like get too close to someone there, she would come to regret it later. So far she had come to regret most of what she had already done in her life.

When the night was late and most of the world was asleep snuggled warm in their beds, Hermione stood at the window of her bedroom that overlooked the main thoroughfare in the center of the village. During the day, it was a place that was full of activity. At night, it was lonely and seemed so big. She considered leaving for some fresh air, a nice long walk through the sleepy village. The nagging thought in the back of her mind that she was asking for trouble kept her feet rooted firmly where she was. All it would take was one renegade Resistance member spotting her out and about by herself and her very existence could be done. Even when that seemed like the most attractive of prospects, she wasn't foolish enough to venture out where there were no witnesses. William Wood was about to snap completely. She didn't want to be caught alone with him in the dark when it finally happened.

Just as she was about to give up any hope at all that she would ever be able to leave the room she was willingly cooped up in, a flash of pale hair in the moonlight caught her eye. It had been several days since she last saw Draco in the village, but there was no mistaking his distinctive appearance. When he walked closer and closer to the house she was in and stopped only steps from the window she was peeking out of, she knew that he was there to find her. Though he might have been slightly more welcome in the village than she was, she knew that he was treated with almost as much suspicion.

A number of questions that she had been sitting on since long before she arrived in Devon swirled around in her unhinged brain. Deciding that she needed answers, she shoved her packed beaded bag down the front of her jumper, opened the window, and started to climb out of it. Draco offered his hand to help her jump down the short distance to the ground. When he didn't immediately relinquish hold of her hand, she pulled it away. There was a familiarity about the gesture that she didn't appreciate.

"Fancy a latenight stroll?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his ridiculous, over-the-top manners. With a formal little bow that his mummy would have no doubt been proud of, he offered his arm. When she rejected the gesture but started walking away, he chuckled and followed. She wasn't sure why he felt the need to tease her at times. Their relationship, for lack of a better term, had grown quite odd over the past few months. Never would she have assumed that there would come a time when she would look forward to spending time alone in his presence.

"Did you come by simply to be a nuisance or is there a reason for your visit?"

"There's always reason in everything I do, Hermione."

"'Everything'? Somehow I doubt that."

He wasn't immediately forthcoming with what the purpose of his call was about. They continued down the dark path inches apart, not touching, but never far apart. Again, much as she might have wished to ignore it, there was a small bit of comfort being with the wizard. She didn't feel alone.

Just as she was about to ask him again why he was there, a shadow crossed their path. Without saying a word, William Wood made it clear that he wasn't pleased to see her. He scowled, but to her relief, kept walking. When they were far enough away from the angry man that she felt confident that they would not be overheard, Hermione began her questions.

"What is happening with the Death Eaters?"

Draco stopped abruptly in his tracks. Whatever he had been expecting her to ask, it certainly wasn't that. Undeterred, she rattled off half a dozen more questions at least. What was Antonin doing? Had there been any more secret meetings? Was something big coming? Was the Dark Lord going to be challenged? Did her husband have something to do with it all?

He was reluctant to answer a single one. Convinced at first that he was going to refuse yet again, Hermione started to walk back to the Jordan family home in a huff. There was no point spending another second with him if he wasn't going to respect her enough to give her something. She was able to take three steps before he spoke.

"Your husband held another meeting two days ago. Not everyone was invited. My father was, to his surprise. It didn't last long. He's trying to uncover any possible disloyalty before he reveals his next steps."

It wasn't much, but it was something. A morsel of knowledge. She wasn't surprised to discover that the suspicious man she married was reluctant to press forward with his plans without being assured of complete and utter loyalty from those he included in his plans. To hear that Lucius had been invited was a bit of a shock. Antonin had no use for the man before he and his family fell from favor. There had been an old rivalry he never would give her the details about. Something petty and insignificant, no doubt. Her husband had a very touchy ego. Seem to insult him once and he would never forgive the slight.

"Some say that he's lost his edge. That there's something wrong with him."

Hermione glared at the wizard, sure she knew what he was about to say next.

"Don't tell me. He seems sad."

Draco sighed. There was no reason for him to confirm what she said was the truth. The set of his jaw and the slump of his shoulders told her everything that she needed to know. She was done talking about her husband. Done hearing about how he had changed and it was all her fault.

Wanting to get as far away from the wizard and the rest of the Resistance as possible, Hermione ran off into the night. She didn't stop moving even after she felt the tingle of the wards surrounding the village pass over her skin.