March 28th

Every free moment that Hermione had was spent practicing what Aberforth taught her two days before. She wasn't foolish enough to try to cast actual spells yet on her own inside her tent, but she could at least practice the fundamentals of the meditation and incantations required. It wasn't enough that she was successful because her latest teacher provoked a strong emotional response. She had to get proficient enough to perform on a whim. Seconds mattered. She couldn't afford to dredge up thoughts of her son every time she needed to cloak her magic.

With a renewed determination that she would soon be able to make some serious decisions about her next steps, her mind wandered back to thoughts of becoming a spy for the Resistance. It was curious that no one had approached her yet to discuss the actual details of what they wanted from her. Though she might have claimed she was willing to help just to learn their secrets, she still wasn't sold on the idea. At least not until she knew exactly what she was expected to uncover. It seemed that if they were truly serious about her returning to her old life to work for them that someone would have already been by to give her more information.

She was weary of being left in the dark. Too much of her life had been spent at the feet of the Dark Lord privy to almost all of his plans. She'd grown selfish and expectant of being told everything. This new existence was too difficult at times. How could the leaders of the Resistance expect her to be any kind of asset at all if she wasn't told anything?

Tracking down one of the witches or wizards who filled Tiberius Zeller's living room for top-secret leadership meetings was not an easy task. Hermione never knew when any of them were even in the village. Most of them spent as much time out in the field as possible. Hiding behind the barrier of the village's protective wards wasn't furthering their ultimate cause any. She'd thought that Aberforth might return for another lesson, but as morning turned to afternoon and then early evening began, she knew not to expect him.

Deciding that she could always go to the Jordan family's home to find out something, she ignored the uneasy feeling she always experienced when she stepped outside of her tent. Careful to avoid anyone enjoying the gradually warming weather, she rushed to the path she'd discovered days earlier behind the houses to slip into the back garden. To her surprise, she didn't even have to knock on the back door to find a member of the family. Lee was headed straight to the shed he completed his broadcasts with a serious, determined expression.

Hermione caught him just as he was opening the door. As distracted as he clearly was, he still was kind enough to grant her a warm grin, almost as if he was actually pleased to see her. Whether he was genuine or simply an excellent actor wasn't something that she'd been able to figure out just yet.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk, Lee?"

His smile slipped. He turned his eyes to the interior of the shed and seemed to be on the verge of telling her to 'bugger off'. But, Lee had always been too polite. It was a trait she worried would get him into serious trouble one day.

"I'm about to broadcast a special report. We just heard from London."

She tried to hide her disappointment. He had been her one hope for any kind of direction until one of the other leaders decided to lower themselves to seek her out again. Considering she had grown used to being completely ignored for days at a time, she didn't anticipate there being any kind of visit for a while yet.

"Come inside. When I've finished my report, we'll talk."

It was difficult to say 'no' to Lee's suggestion. Every other time he'd made a broadcast for the Resistance, she'd made it a point to not listen. She didn't want to know what was going on outside in the real world. Like the proverbial ostrich, she preferred her head firmly buried in the sand. It made her choice to abandon her family easier when she didn't know about the danger. Instead of a refusal coming out of her mouth as she expected it to, she surprised herself by accepting his invitation.

Lee was pleased to show her to the chair next to his at the table where his wizarding wireless set and microphone sat. She was hardly on the seat before he already had a channel open. Improvements to his equipment meant broadcasting to those souls brave enough to pick up the Resistance reports had become more frequent and reliable. No doubt Albert Runcorn was working himself into a frenzy trying to figure out how to block their signals. As much as she might have grown to like Albie over the years, she wished him nothing but failure in that endeavor.

"Verified reports from our brothers and sisters in London have confirmed that the infamous Leaky Cauldron is no more."

Hermione pushed aside all uncharitable thoughts about Albie's propaganda department to focus her full attention on the words Lee spoke. What could he possibly mean about the pub that they had all known since childhood was 'no more'?

"A massive explosion in the notorious establishment about an hour ago destroyed much of the structure. Known in recent years for being a place where You-Know-Who's Death Eaters liked to visit, a large number of them were in attendance when the explosion took place."

Her stomach began to twist in knots. There was always a danger in the lifestyle others like her had chosen. They all were aware that each time they stepped outside the safety of their homes to fulfill the orders they were given by their master might be the very last time. While she wouldn't go so far as to discount all of their crimes against humanity and wizardkind by calling any of them 'good people', there were a number of Death Eaters that she cared deeply about. Some she would even admit to loving.

"It has been reported that there had been a large gathering, similar to the one that took place at the end of January. Exact numbers of those inside are not known. All we are certain of at this point is that there were several fatalities."

She fought the sudden urge to rush off to London to find out for herself who was killed. Lee mentioned that the gathering was similar to the one in January. Did that mean that the ambassadors from the other countries were there too? Was Augustus back in the country? It would be just like him to get himself blown up. He desired to be in the middle of everything. That had been the biggest reason why he found life in France so objectionable. Well, other than living with his hateful wife, of course. He hated being away from the seat of power, away from the excitement. If he was in the country, he would've been right there in the thick of it.

"Unverified reports are claiming this is a victory for the Resistance. Details, no doubt, will surely begin to trickle in very soon. Expect more broadcasts in the very near future."

Lee had nothing else to report on the incident at that point. While he gave his standard warning to be constantly vigilant to those foolish enough to be listening, Hermione's mind traveled to the other possibilities. Her husband might be amongst the dead. Was she already a widow and didn't even realize it? If so, what did she do next? She might not have to answer to Antonin for what she'd done to him that day, but she knew that she would have to face the Dark Lord at some point to be punished for her defection. And if Antonin was killed, what would happen to Oliver? Abandoning him when he still had one parent, especially the one he appeared to love the most, was bad enough. Leaving him completely alone was unconscionable.

And Draco. Would he have been there too? She didn't want to think that the wizard who was responsible for bringing her into the relative safety of the Resistance was gone. They hadn't left things on a good note. She was still confused by their recent exchanges. If he was amongst the killed, she would never learn what was the true cause of his bizarre behavior.

"I'm sorry about that, Hermione. Now, what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

All she could do was just stare at Lee with wide, unblinking eyes. Did he not grasp the severity of the situation? Did he not understand that though they might have been the enemy, she was worried that she had just lost loved ones? Awkward seconds passed before it dawned on him.

"Shit, Hermione… are you…"

She didn't give him the chance to finish asking if she was all right. It was a ridiculous question anyway. Of course she wasn't. Jumping up from her chair, she rushed out of the shed for fresh air. One more moment inside and she feared she might suffocate.