March 11th

Running away without a solid plan of where to go had never been a good idea. Hermione didn't care. All she wanted in that moment was to get as far away as possible. What had she been thinking to willingly bed down with the Resistance? Even if she wasn't actively joining in their raids or furthering their cause, she consumed the food that they offered and took advantage of the shelter they provided. She was a traitor of the very worst sort.

There had to be more to life than just sitting around in a dark bedroom waiting for something to happen. Everyone who bothered to speak to her in the village told her that something big was coming. Something that was going to change their world forever would be happening. It was insanity to sit around and wait for something that might never come to pass. The Resistance had been trying to overthrow the regime for years, for an entire generation. They hadn't been successful yet. Maybe a day would come when they would topple the Dark Lord from the throne he'd built in the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle, but she didn't see it happening any time soon.

They were all foolish little children playing at revolution. None of them knew the first thing about what they were trying to accomplish. If they knew what they were signing themselves up for, they would have run away in the opposite direction as quickly as their little feet could carry them. None of them had the stomach to make the hard decisions that had to be made to keep the world alive. How many of them could even remember what life was like before the Dark Lord came to power? It had been so long ago. Children had been born and died in his reign. Of course, their lives had been cut short by the foolishness of their parents.

She couldn't bear to sit in the village for another second. Even death was preferable to an existence where nothing of any consequence happened. Listening to one more person talk about her husband as if he wasn't the most dangerous monster alive would only push her further into the deepening abyss of insanity that she already knew she was heading into. Next, someone was going to tell her that Antonin had broken down in the middle of a secret Death Eater meeting in tears, lamenting the loss of his perfect little family.

Where would she go next? She had no idea. It didn't really matter. Hadn't she survived for ten months completely on her own with no long term plan other than stay two steps ahead of her husband at all times? Most defectors weren't able to survive a fraction of that time out in the world alone. Of course, she pushed aside the very real thought that perhaps the Dark Lord wasn't utilizing his full might to bring her back into the fold like he had with others. It wasn't even publicly known that she wasn't still a loyal Death Eater. He was hoping that she was going to quietly return when she was done having her temper tantrum. There were a few privileges she had gotten used to being Lord Voldemort's favorite over the years.

A rustling behind her encouraged her to move faster. She didn't want to get caught and dragged back to the village. Nor did she want to be discovered out past the wards by a nutter like William Wood. He didn't have to warn her that day that he would attack her at first chance. She had already discovered that months earlier in Edinburgh.

She was out of shape. Despite finally being on a regular eating schedule, she wasn't back to the prime physical health she'd been in when she was a loyal follower. For months she had kept moving simply because she must. Unfortunately, it seemed that there were others out there who hadn't gotten lazy stuck in the captivity of a warm bed and hot meals. No matter how fast she ran, her pursuer was just as fast. Feeling them getting nearer and her strength beginning to wane, she wasn't surprised to feel the solid form of a body at her back and the squeeze of two arms around her chest.

It occurred to her too late that maybe the one rushing after her meant her harm. There had been very simple rules set forth by the Resistance leaders. As long as she stayed within the wards of the village and didn't cause any harm to its inhabitants, her protection would be guaranteed. Once she stepped outside of their domain, she was on her own again. She feared that the one who held her in a tight grip and pulled her to the ground might be the crazed Wood. Seeing him when she began her walk with Draco hadn't been a surprise. If she learned that the wizard sat outside the Jordan home waiting for her to emerge, she wouldn't be surprised. He was a danger she should have considered before she foolishly ran off into the night.

Her captor did not let go no matter how hard she struggled. Too late she realized that she wasn't ready to face the cold uncertainty of death. Maybe there was more to life that she hadn't yet experienced. A hand lessened its grip long enough to point a wand to the sky. With a nonverbal spell, a misty dome of disillusionment dripped over their heads. Only when it reached the ground did he speak.

"Stop fighting me, Hermione. I'm not going to hurt you."

She despised the fact that she immediately relaxed upon hearing Draco's voice. When did that happen? When did his familiar cadence calm her down instead of make her anxious? Convinced that she was about to do something foolish, he tightened his grasp. All at once she realized that she was lying on top of his firm frame. It was a position that she had been in with many other wizards, but never with him. Why that thought popped into her mind at such a moment was a mystery.

"Will was just behind me. He was watching us."

Hermione sighed, ignoring the fact that the motion pressed her body further against his. A soft clearing of his throat underneath her proved that he hadn't missed the shift. She started to say something, started to suggest that they move away from the immediate area when a dark form rushed past them. The spell Draco cast around them suddenly made sense. Wood couldn't see them. Frustrated, he ran right past where they were laying and didn't even notice. Once he was no longer within sight, Draco gently rolled over to his side, knocking Hermione to the ground. He rose to his feet and offered his hand to help her up as well.

"Why did you run away?"

There was anger in his voice. She had heard it many times before, but somehow it bothered her more in that moment than it did any other. Unless she was completely mistaken, he seemed almost disappointed in her actions. Why did his opinion suddenly matter?

"Will is going to kill you if you give him the chance. Don't take him lightly, Hermione. He hates you."

"I'm well aware of that, thank you."

"I don't think you are taking his threats seriously."

She wanted to throw in his face that if she curled up in a ball afraid every time someone wanted to murder her, she would never be able to move on with her life. There were dozens, possibly hundreds of people in their small society that wanted to be the instrument in her death. It was nothing new. William Wood was only the latest in a long line of potential enemies. She knew he was dangerous, but at the same time, she wasn't exactly worried. Better wizards than him had tried and failed to kill her.

"Next time you try something foolish, I might not be around to save you."

Hermione's eyes shot up to meet Draco's. She thought she had already made herself perfectly clear. Perhaps not. Even intelligent people needed reminders every now and again.

"And as I've already told you, I do not need you to save me, Malfoy."

The urge to turn around and storm off again was strong. Something in his exasperated gaze kept her feet rooted firmly to the ground. Had she actually frightened him? She wouldn't have believed it if she didn't see it in his eyes. Draco Malfoy was worried about her. Who would have imagined that a day would come when that would happen?

"Where were you going?"

"I don't know. Away. The actual destination didn't seem to matter."

"You can't keep running off without a plan, Hermione. It's too dangerous. If I hadn't been able to catch you, Will might have."

She knew that she was being reckless even without him telling her so. Later, when she was alone and could properly digest the events of the evening, she would probably even regret making him worry.

"He wants you dead. And he doesn't care much for me either. This could've been very bad."

"Why doesn't he like you?"

Draco's scoff quickly turned into a low chuckle. Some of the tension of their experiences dissipated. With the immediate threat far off in the distance seeking his prey out, they could afford to be a little cavalier.

"Jealousy, I imagine. Thinks there's something going on between Ginny and me."

"And is there?"

The moment the question dripped off her tongue she wished she could pull it back in. What Draco Malfoy did in his private life was none of her concern. She longed to curse off the smirk that crept across his lips. Clearly, he found her curiosity amusing.

"I have a lot of respect for Ginny and she's certainly attractive, but no, there's nothing going on between us."

She didn't know why she was relieved to hear his admission. When they were younger and Ginny began to grow out of the awkward phase that all adolescents went though with a great deal more grace than Hermione, she had been jealous. It took effort on her part to look beautiful, but for the younger witch, she was just naturally so. It had been frustrating to see Ginny approached by so many different young wizards when none of them showed the slightest bit of interest in her. Perhaps there would always be a rivalry between the two women. At least on Hermione's side, anyway.

"Come back with me to the village?"

As much as she wished to refuse, she didn't. A single nod of her head later, he pulled down the disillusionment spell and Apparated them back to the edges of the village's wards. Two steps forward and she was back inside the protection offered by the Resistance's leaders. Draco didn't leave her side until he was confident she was back inside the safety of her bedroom. When she closed the window she climbed into and started to pull the curtains shut, she caught a glimpse of a furious William Wood stalking back to his hiding place. Draco was right. She was going to have to be more careful in the future.