March 19th

After too much time cooped up in her tent with no promises of anything changing any time soon. Hermione forced herself outside when the sun had gone down. With the gradual increasing of temperatures, more and more residents were taking advantage of the outdoors. Months stuck inside their homes while winter raged outside made everyone anxious for some fresh air. She was no different. Except for the fact that she waited until the village was quiet and more were already snuggled up in their warm beds. It was easier that way, less awkward.

Her mind felt clearer than it had for awhile. After spending almost two full days entirely in bed in an effort to put an end to her dizziness and disorientation, she felt much better. Antonin always hovered over her when she felt similarly in the past. At times, she welcomed the surprisingly nurturing nature that came out of him when either she or Ollie was sick. Usually, he drove her mad with his insistence that she drink more potions or rest more or a dozen other obnoxious suggestions. Much like his fits of rage, her episodes of confusion and melancholy were common occurrences in their family. Sadly, it seemed there would be no hope for their son to not spend the whole of his existence surrounded by dysfunction. It was in his blood.

She stared at the waxing crescent moon high in the sky. The new moon was over and it was gradually returning to its full state. Her thoughts turned to Fenrir. How had he fared with the Full Moon he was gearing up for when she had to leave him? She couldn't imagine he had any unusual difficulties. Transformations had been a normal part of his existence for the better part of a century. It was sentimental and foolish to worry. But, she couldn't help it. Thanks to her husband and Rabastan, she'd had to leave him so abruptly, long before she was truly ready.

It bothered her more than she cared to admit that she was so rattled by almost being caught that day. They were so close. Rabastan even touched her. Just the thought of her near-assault made her skin crawl. He could be a disgusting excuse for a man at time. He could also be a great deal of fun as she learned years earlier, but his behavior that day not only frightened her, it gave her a glimpse into what their victims must have been thinking right before they succumbed to their own torture. She didn't like it. Though she had no doubt that Fenrir would've ripped him apart, limb from limb, if Antonin hadn't stopped him, she still felt sick to her stomach when she recalled that day.

What would have happened if Fenrir's plan didn't work? If Antonin had ripped off the shirt covering her identity? It would have been a terrible scene. His absolute loyalty to her would've meant that the werewolf would likely have done what he could to prevent her capture. Who would have emerged from the bloodbath victorious was anyone's guess. Rabastan and Antonin were both formidable foes on their own. Together, they might have been unstoppable. Whatever the outcome, it was evident that at least one of them wouldn't have survived.

Hermione shook her head in an attempt to clear those disturbing thoughts out of her mind. They were ruining what was shaping up to be a pleasant walk. Too much time hiding inside the tent lying in bed wasn't good for her mental or emotional well-being. If she didn't figure out some manner to be active or useful, she would go mad. Or maybe, madder.

The sound of footsteps behind her startled Hermione completely out of her thoughts. An official protection might have been granted as long as she stayed within the wards, but she knew enough about human nature and how the world was actually run to believe she was completely safe. Unsurprisingly, when she turned around, she saw a smirking William Wood. She was grateful that no one had thought to tell him where her tent was located. No doubt he would have taken the opportunity to slip in undetected to slice her throat open. Or worse. He might have had no intention of making her death as quick and painless as she made his little brother's.

She didn't have the energy to deal with him. Especially not after she'd spent so much time stuck in her own head. If she could spend the rest of her life avoiding the wizard, she would be quite pleased. There was a time in her life, and it truly wasn't that long ago, when she wouldn't have hesitated to get rid of the annoyance. Wood was the kind of enemy she didn't keep for long when she was a Death Eater. He would have been dead at the end of her wand with hardly a second thought. As much as she might have been trying to turn over a new leaf and distance herself from the monster she'd allowed herself to become, there were times when she was tempted to fall back into her old ways. An obsessed cretin like him would never give up on hurting her until she was dead. Or he was.

"Lovely evening for a walk, is it not?"

"It was."

His overly cheerful and false friendly tone grated on her nerves. She sped up her steps in a fruitless effort to put some distance between them. He simply walked faster. Feeling him only a few meters behind, her wand hand itched. What she wouldn't give to be able to at least sting him in the gut with a spell! Her magic would be tracked and her position uncovered. Antonin might be willing to ignore the Dark Lord's orders that the Resistance's section of Devon be avoided. He had little to fear from the Resistance and less to fear from their master. It had been easy to tell for a long time that he was growing weak. Soon, a day would come when not even the most heinous and darkest of magicks would keep his increasingly frail body animated. The head of the snake would die, leaving the body in severe jeopardy. Unless a strong enough candidate stepped forward with near-unanimous support, the Resistance could swoop in and reclaim their lost country.

But, she didn't even reach for the handle of her wand to reassure herself of its presence. Besides, her reflexes were still quick enough even after months of disuse to curse the arsehole if he tried anything first. Wood didn't need much provocation to strike. She knew to not trust the fact that he was ordered to leave her alone within the wards. Like she already figured out early on in her residence in the unexpected village, no one would hardly kick up a fuss if she was harmed. Wood could probably strike her in the heart with an Avada in the middle of the community with every single resident watching and he would still walk away with little more than a slap on the wrist. She couldn't count on the promise the leaders made that she would remain unharmed. Not when a clearly disturbed man was on the loose and stalking her every move.

Time was not healing William Wood's wounds. If anything, the longer he went without avenging his brother's death, the worse off he became. Even in the short months since their paths first crossed in Edinburgh, Hermione could see a large change in him. He was breaking under the strain of whatever demons whispered in his ears. A chuckle slipped out of her mouth unbidden. It amused her. Maybe it took a crazy person to recognize another.

"Are you sneaking off in the dark to find another innocent victim to torture and kill?"

All desire to laugh again faded. She sighed deeply, annoyed that she couldn't just be left alone for a simple walk. Was this going to be the rest of her life? Doomed to be eternally annoyed by those she wronged? She just wanted to go back to the safety of her tent. Before she could direct her steps back to her hidden home, she needed to shake her shadow.

"No, Wood, I'm not. I just wanted some fresh air. Alone."

He scoffed, but didn't stop following. She wasn't sure what she was going to have to do to get rid of him. If he knew where her tent was, he might try to set it on fire when she was inside it or something just as deplorable. Draco's privacy spells only worked so far. She wouldn't be able to hide the tent if Wood witnessed her disappear with his own eyes.

"I haven't seen you in several days."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

Brushing off her sarcastic remark, he continued. This was not a man who was easily deterred. Yet again, she wished she could utilize her magic to eliminate him as a threat. Or maybe even some of Antonin's cursed blades. At the very least, she wanted to figure out a way to shut him up.

"Don't know where you've been, but I think you're too much of a coward to try to run again. At least not without Malfoy's help."

She kept walking, determined to not let the man get to her. He wasn't worth the aggravation. Perhaps he was simply trying to anger her to the point that she lost her temper. If he could kill her in apparent "self-defense", no one would get angry with him for striking out. She refused to give him the satisfaction no matter how sick of living she was gradually becoming.

"After all, it's not as if you can use magic. Not unless you want your beloved husband to know where you're at, which I'm sure you don't. And no one is going to teach you how we cloak our magic in the Resistance."

Exhausted and suddenly wanting nothing more than her bed, she stopped and spun on her heel to face the man eye-to-eye.

"I'm not afraid of you, Wood. Either go ahead and kill me, or leave me alone."

His usual scowl marred his handsome features. It was obvious that he was considering just how it would be possible to do as she demanded. When he didn't immediately respond and seemed in no hurry to act on his wishes, Hermione took off running as fast as she could towards her tent. Wood hesitated for a few seconds, but soon was almost caught up. Knowing that he couldn't witness her disappear, she took a circuitous route around houses and other community buildings. She was able to breach the protective spells surrounding her temporary home while he was still trying to turn a corner. Angry, he ran right past her hiding place and crossed over the wards to continue his fruitless search for his prey.

Hermione slipped back into the tent, undressed, and crawled into her bunk. Maybe it would be safer if she walked outside only in the daytime when there were other witnesses about. William Wood was not going to give up easily.