March 23rd

Even when one believed they were being completely discreet, there is a feeling that is difficult to mask when someone stares for any length of time at another person. Perhaps it was because of her years as a Death Eater that Hermione could identify the impression of eyes boring into her while she appeared to be sleeping. Maybe all of her training with Antonin prepared her for what it would be like. She wasn't sure. It didn't matter. More than a few times being able to pick up on that prickly sensation saved her life when others around her meant her harm.

She didn't expect to feel it while she was lying in the bed she had become too familiar with inside her tent. The degree of intensity didn't give off any alarms that she needed to be concerned about her safety. Without even opening her eyes to confirm her suspicions, she was fairly confident in the fact that she was aware of who was the guilty party. There really only could be one person.

The previous day following Ginny's impromptu visit had been fraught with tension between the permanent and occasional residents of the tent. Without really knowing Draco very well, Hermione couldn't even begin to understand what he was thinking or feeling about the whole incident. She got the impression that he wasn't keen on her actually taking the Resistance up on their request that she become a spy. It might have been a silly thought. Why else would Draco have made such an effort to test her trustworthiness and make sure that she found her way to the village if not to offer her up to the Resistance on a silver platter?

He hadn't said a word the entire time the two women spoke, but he didn't miss a single syllable that was uttered. Only moments after Ginny made her excuses to leave the tent, he made a production of putting his shoes on and exiting too. All day he was gone. Hermione assumed he had gone off to resume his tracking of fugitives until he returned late just as she was preparing for bed. His only communication was a nod and grunt. Although his behavior was decidedly strange, she didn't press him for answers. He wasn't likely to give them even if she asked. One thing about their acquaintance hadn't changed - he was frustratingly tight-lipped.

The prolonged attention was making her uncomfortable. After deciding that she couldn't bear it another moment, Hermione opened her eyes. Even in the dimness of the tent she had no trouble meeting Draco's light grey eyes still staring across the small space. When it was obvious that he had been caught staring, he didn't even make an attempt to pretend otherwise. He continued, not once even offering an apology or explanation. It was bizarre.

"Why are you staring?"

Hermione sat up, pulling the blankets tightly around her body as if that would stop the stares. He didn't immediately answer. Only sat up in his own bed, not even caring that the blankets fell off of him revealing his lean, bare chest. Every other time they'd spent a night together in the tent, they had each been careful to remain as modest and respectful of the other as possible. There was enough to worry about in their situation without adding uncomfortable tension to it all. As much as she might have tried to avert her eyes, it was difficult. Draco either didn't mind or even realize she was getting an eyeful of his fair flesh.

"Are you actually considering what Ginny's asked you to do?"

There was a bite to his tone that she hadn't heard before. At least not for many, many years. What had changed in such a short period of time to make him behave in such an odd manner?

"Yes, I am. Isn't that why you wanted me to come here in the first place?"

Draco sighed, but didn't answer. She could feel frustration begin to rise up in her blood. He was acting like a petulant child. Like he used to when they were in the castle and he wasn't getting his way. If the next words that came out of his mouth were something similar to 'my father will hear about this', she wouldn't have been the least surprised. He didn't look like the child he once was. Clearly, that wasn't what was important.

"What I wanted isn't what's important. I was asked to track you down and determine if I thought you could be trusted or not."

"You tricked me to get me to come to this village. Right in the middle of the Resistance. Around people who would rather see me dead than alive."

"That doesn't mean I think what Ginny's asking of you is what you should do."

She didn't understand why they were arguing. Why did he care so much about what she did? Every single thing about the wizard confused her. From the first day of the year when he entered the room she was sleeping in and didn't attack her, she hadn't been able to figure out what he was trying to do. One second to the next he appeared to contradict himself. Part of her wished that she'd never crossed his path. Or maybe that she'd made it to the front door of her house that day before he grabbed her. Maybe this would've all been much easier.

"I thought you were all for the Dark Lord being brought down. The name Malfoy might actually mean something again if he is."

It was a low blow. Hermione didn't even mean to say it. If she'd been thinking clearly, she wouldn't have stooped to such pettiness. Draco's pale eyes flashed with a rage that might have frightened her once upon a time when she had anything to lose. Another lesson she'd learned from Antonin so many years earlier was that it was never wise to kick a dog when he was down. To call attention to the fact that his family was considered an embarrassment and disgrace was unkind. He was well aware of their reputation. Having it thrown casually into his face did nothing but anger him. Briefly, she considered apologizing until she decided it would only make the situation even more awkward. It would be best to try to push the conversation on.

"Do you think I should do what they want?"

Draco sighed again. The slump of his shoulders proved that some of the tension was lessening. It was a question she asked not because she thought it would just make him calmer, but because she truly wanted to know his opinion. Strange how her world had changed enough to the point that his thoughts actually mattered to her. If anyone had told her months earlier that a moment like this would happen, she would've assumed they were mad. Funny the changes that time wrought.

"You could be invaluable to the Revolution. You could also be killed."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not afraid to die. Somedays I almost wish it would just go ahead and happen."

"Don't ever say that again."

If she thought he had been angry earlier when she brought up the painful reminder of how far his family had fallen in their society, she was startled to see how vehemently he insisted she watch her words. There was a shift in the anger still present in his eyes. Subtle, but still there. It was more intense, more personal.

"I don't understand what Ginny and the others are playing at. When she told me what they were considering asking of you, I didn't believe it. Part of their agreement with one of their largest supporters on our side was that you were to remain unharmed. Asking you to spy is hardly keeping you from being harmed."

"Who's protecting me, Draco? Which Death Eater is helping them?"

He was reluctant to speak again. There were only a very small handful of Death Eaters that would even be bothered if anything were to happen to her. Even fewer who would actively conspire against the Dark Lord's regime. She wanted to know who she had to thank for caring.

"I would've assumed that you would've already figured that out some time ago. Your mind used to be a great deal sharper."

Only because she had insulted him earlier with her remark about the Malfoy family did she let that statement slide. Just as he was sensitive about his family, she was just as touchy about her mind. Poking fun at her was unfair and likely done only as a retaliation. She would pretend that one time that it didn't bother her. If he attempted to insult her again, he would regret it.

"Who is it?"

"The man who kept you hidden up in his hotel room for several days while you claimed you were sick."

Hostility and the faintest hint of what sounded like jealousy colored his tone. That didn't make much sense to her, however. There was no reason at all for him to feel that way. She believed she was just imagining the frustration. Choosing to ignore it for the time being, she considered his words instead of his tone.

"Augie?"

A single nod was the only answer she got in return. Of course it made sense. Why else would Augustus send that missive with Draco containing the bluebell and the simple plea that she trust the other wizard? To be honest, she was frustrated with herself that she hadn't put the clues all together. It wasn't a difficult concept. Her mind, no matter how warped and exhausted, should have been able to make sense of it all.

Her frustration quickly turned from her own mind to Augustus. If he was aiding the Resistance in exchange for her protection, where was he? Why was he still in France instead of right there with her?

"Do you still love Rook?"

It wasn't any of Draco's business. It wasn't anyone's business but hers. Her relationship with Augustus ended a long time ago. She'd created an entirely different life since he was ordered to find his estranged wife to set an example for the rest of the country. What her feelings were for the wizard shouldn't have mattered.

"I think I will always love Augie."

The truth was sometimes difficult to speak and hard to hear. Draco threw the blankets off the lower half of his body as he rose to his feet. There was more anger in his features that she couldn't understand. Why would he care so much? Not even bothering to hide the fact that he was annoyed, the tracker picked his discarded clothes and boots off of the floor. He disappeared into the main room of the tent without speaking another word. Short minutes later, Hermione heard the tent flap lift and fall back. Nothing but silence remained.