March 22nd

Very little conversation passed between Draco and Hermione when they returned to her tent the night before. Though she was frustrated with the wizard and there was a great deal she would have liked to say, she kept her mouth shut. Stirring up aggravation and emotions would only make her miserable. She was tired of being miserable. Instead of allowing him to continue to not answer her questions, she didn't ask anything. Once inside the tent, she made her way to her usual bunk and climbed in.

If Draco found her behavior to be rude or odd, he didn't say anything. Since the beginning of the year he had had enough experience around the witch to understand something of her moods. One doesn't spend several days alone in a tent with someone else without learning at least some of what makes a person tick. Likely exhausted from his own adventures in the real world outside of the protective cocoon she had been living in, Draco made himself at home, lying back in the bed he'd used the last time he slept inside the tent.

Hermione slept fitfully the entire night. Thoughts about the Resistance wanting her to become a spy naturally took up a great deal of her limited thinking capacity. Even when she was able to drift off to sleep, her mind kept returning to thoughts of what would happen if she was discovered. Nothing seemed to be worth the risk. Nothing. What could the Resistance offer her as incentive to put not only herself, but her only child in mortal danger? As she was living at present, all she had to worry about was her death. Even someone as clearly mentally deranged as William Wood only cared what happened to her. It was her side that exacted such devastating punishments from their enemies.

While trying to shake off the upsetting feelings that plagued her when she woke up from a terrible dream in the middle of the night, she heard the sound of Draco returning to the tent. Where he had run off to was a complete mystery. Perhaps he sought out his uncle or another resident in the village. His life as a tracker meant he was able to move without making hardly a sound. It was only because she was wide awake that she heard him at all. Knowing without even needing to ask that he wouldn't put to rest any of her curiosities if she requested, Hermione turned back on her side in an attempt to fall back asleep.

The smell of bacon frying roused her several hours later. Just like he had when they were in the woods together, Draco woke up before her to prepare a simple breakfast. She might have been still leery of speaking to him after he revealed the big secret the night before, but her stomach had a rule against refusing a hot breakfast.

Neither of them broke the silence over their meal. Sometimes it was more pleasant just to sit back and enjoy the quiet. They were less likely to get in a terrible argument that way. Hermione was used to spending tense, awkward meals with a wizard. She'd been doing it for most of her life.

Just as they were finishing up the last of the simple breakfast of bacon and eggs Draco prepared, the flap to the tent opened. Ginny Weasley entered her father's old tent with the confidence of one who feared little. She looked exhausted, like she'd been woken up in the middle of the night from a deep sleep with devastating news. At least Draco's late night errand suddenly made sense. He must have sent the military leader a message warning her that he'd said something he shouldn't have.

"Could we have a word, Hermione?"

The formality of Ginny's tone still sounded so foreign to her former friend's ears. There had been a time when they were very close. Now, they were complete strangers. Each woman had a hardness to their personality that had developed as they grew older. Their younger selves likely wouldn't even recognize the people they had to become to survive in their world. It was a fact that should have devastated Hermione and it likely would have, if she allowed herself to dwell on the past. There was nothing to be gained from looking backwards to imagine what might have been.

"I suppose we should."

Ginny took a seat at the table without an invitation. Understanding that the discussion they were going to have was going to be personal, Draco began to stand up to leave. A touch of Ginny's hand on his forearm stopped his movements. Hermione felt her eyes narrow at the gesture. What right did she have to order him about? As soon as he was settled back in his chair, their visitor turned her full attention to Hermione.

"Draco sent me a message."

"I assumed that when I heard him creep back inside this morning."

His light grey eyes shot up to meet hers. Clearly, he thought he had been so clever and sneaky. She almost laughed in his face. Too much cockiness would get him killed if he wasn't careful.

"We hadn't planned on asking you to… to be a…"

"'Spy'?"

"Well, yes, if you want to call it that."

She considered briefly arguing with Ginny over semantics, but decided it was a waste of time. Either the witch would tell her the truth or she wouldn't. Up until that moment, she still hadn't made a single promise or vow to anyone that she couldn't ignore if she so chose. They might want her to spy for the Resistance, but that didn't mean that she had to do anything they said.

"The point is, we hadn't planned on asking you to do anything until we were certain that we could trust you, Hermione."

"And do you trust me now?"

It was an honest question that she didn't expect an honest answer to. She would have been a fool to admit that she trusted Hermione now. Either a fool or a liar. Too many sins had been committed in the past to wipe clean the slate. Quickly, it became evident that Ginny was unsure how to respond. She had never been one to tell lies even when a harmless fib could have been kinder. No doubt she assumed that telling Hermione she didn't trust her would make the Death Eater offended and unwilling to help. Which would have been further from the truth. She'd spent her life working with people who she didn't trust and who didn't trust her. Being upfront and honest would earn her more respect in Hermione's eyes.

"Not any further than I could throw you without magic."

Caught off-guard by the unexpected truthfulness, Hermione stared into Ginny's brown eyes in shock. The bubble of a giggle formed in her throat that threatened to cross her lips. Ginny's mouth began to quirk into into her own hint of a smile.

"After I told you about my daughter, I smuggled her out of the country."

Her admission made her laugh loudly. The younger witch joined in with her own laughter while Draco sat perfectly still staring at them with an incredulous expression that only further inflamed their mirth. When it was clear he didn't understand anything that was happening and might possibly believe both women had completely lost their minds, he rolled his eyes and sank back in his chair to wait for them to stop.

"I'm glad to see that you have more sense than I gave you credit for, Ginny."

"Enemies can sometimes become temporary allies when it's necessary."

"Indeed. What do you and the Resistance want me to do for you?"

There seemed no valid reason to delay the meat of their discussion any longer. Hermione wanted to know exactly what was expected of her and what she could hope to expect in return. She didn't do anything for free. What motivated her to 'fight the good fight' when she was a teenager no longer applied. She wasn't the same person. Idealism and the urge to protect her best friend from death could no longer be called upon. She wanted tangible rewards.

"We meant what we said when we suggested that you could be valuable in bringing other Death Eaters over to our side."

"It's adorable how you always say 'we'. Who is really in charge?"

Ginny wasn't derailed by the question of the Resistance's leadership. Perhaps she even expected it. Taking a deep breath and attempting and failing to hide the frustration in her voice, she explained that their leadership was a collective. Everyone brought different strengths and talents to the group. There wasn't one single person in charge because they all had their own individual value. Everyone had a voice and was free to express their opinions and ideas. Hermione resisted the temptation to tell her what a ridiculous idea it was to have dozens of different opinions floating around. How were they ever going to be taken seriously if there was so much internal debate? It was best that there only be one viewpoint, one way of thinking that everyone was required to adhere to or shut up about. Strong leadership couldn't be determined by the ordinary citizens. They were too stupid to know what they needed.

"Do you understand that if I am discovered to be a spy that not only will I be murdered, but so will my family? My son will be killed in front of me?"

"Yes, I'm aware. I'm also aware that you were often the hand that swung the sword in the execution of innocent children."

She wasn't going to allow Ginny to get under her skin. There was no reason to remind her of her sins. She had to deal with them every single second of her life. No one knew her crimes better than she did. Brushing off the witch's last remark, she went straight to what she wanted out of the deal.

"If the Resistance was to finally overturn the Dark Lord and create a new world as you seem to believe you will, I don't expect anyone to allow either my husband or myself to go without being killed for our crimes."

When Ginny started to protest, Hermione held up her hand to stop. She didn't want to lose what respect she had for her former friend with a bald-faced lie.

"You can make all of the promises that you want that I'll be spared in exchange for helping you, but I don't believe it. At some point, you will come calling for my head."

"What is it that you want?"

"I want a promise from you, Ginny, that whatever happens, my son is not to be harmed. He doesn't get executed along with his parents. He's spared."

"We have never been in favor of murdering children."

Hermione relaxed a little. Of course that was the truth. How many times had she taken down a Resistance member because they were so intent on protecting a child? Too many.

"And for good measure, I want Mafalda Yaxley to be spared."

"But she's the wife of a…"

"I know who she is. She's never been a Death Eater. She's a good woman who got caught up with bad people. And I want your assurance that she won't be harmed. She's more of a mother to my son than I've ever been."

Ginny nodded in agreement. Later, Hermione would insist that everything be written down for her peace of mind.

"And I demand that you teach me how to cloak my magic."

"I don't have the authority to…"

"It's non-negotiable, Ginny. Either you teach me to cloak my magic or I won't help."

She sighed. It was a big request.

"I'll have to speak with the others."

Ginny rose from the table. Their discussion was over for the moment.