April 17th

Even a single moment in Augustus' home without him there was torture for Hermione. If she'd had a solid plan of where she could go next, she would have left as soon as he did. The house that held so many happy memories for them both felt eerily like a tomb of their lost and broken promises. She packed up her beaded bag in preparation of the inevitable.

An envelope thick with Muggle money was left on the kitchen table. As much as he might have desired that she not leave, he was practical man. He knew her better than just about anyone alive. Hermione was grateful once again for the assistance. Life on the run was much easier when there was even a little bit of money to rely on. Tucking it into her bag, she helped herself to all of the remaining food in Augustus' cupboards. He wouldn't be angry when he noticed the theft. It would make him rest easier knowing that she wasn't starving.

She wasn't in a hurry to leave the house even though she knew it was dangerous to remain there alone. Perhaps she was a masochist after all. The one person alive who tortured her more than anyone else was herself. Always had been that way. Even as a child she forced herself to complete impossible tasks and punished herself when she fell short. As a student in Hogwarts, she was even worse. What other person in their right mind would think that using a time turner to take extra classes was a good idea? She had to place a lot of the blame for that decision on Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. They were the adults in that situation. Neither of them utilized their decades of life experience to help her come to the correct conclusion that there was only so much a single person could do. A lot of people in her life were too passive to correct her when she was being unreasonable.

Sitting in front of the fireplace, she considered her options. Clearly, returning to the Resistance's village was not smart. Assuming she wasn't killed immediately, very few of the residents would actually believe her when she told them that the Daily Prophet story was a lie. Getting Aberforth Dumbledore captured was her fault. Accident or not, she would never find friendship with the Resistance. The closest she could hope to achieve would be if they approached her to become the spy they needed as a means to purge her soul of her misdeeds. They would never trust her. The moment she gave them the information they needed, they would dispose of her without a second thought.

Leaving the country was also not an option. If she imagined that the shipping ports weren't being closely watched by both the Resistance and the Death Eaters, she would be deadly wrong. Likewise, the airports, bus stations, and train stations would be covered. Even if she could somehow get her hands on a car and tried to drive to France, she had no doubt that The Shuttle was too risky. Muggle authorities might be made aware of a stolen vehicle and a woman without proper identification. Besides, living for so long amongst the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade hadn't exactly given her the opportunity to learn how to hot wire cars. She would have to utilize magic and she would surely get caught doing so.

Finding another ally to hide her was not a prospect that she relished. Anyone she approached would be in great danger. She wasn't sure that she had enough room on her conscience for someone else's fate. Also, there were too few in number to even consider. Alecto made it clear she wasn't comfortable with her coming to her home. Augustus was gone. Theo was dead. Thorfinn had a family to think of and he wouldn't betray Antonin anyway. Viktor also had a family. Fenrir was out of the country and she didn't think it would be wise to try him again after almost being caught the last time. Rodolphus was no longer a fan of hers. Even if he didn't live right in the middle of the Resistance, he wasn't likely to want to lift a paw in her aid.

And, finally, she wasn't even sure what her relationship with Draco was. Were they friends? Or just acquaintances? Would he be on the Resistance's side? She wasn't sure what his relationship with Dumbledore was like, but she knew he was throwing in his lot with the rabble in hopes that his family's future would be brighter than it was under the Dark Lord. He was an unknown variable. Not exactly part of the Resistance, but not exactly loyal to the regime either. She would have to continue to be careful around him.

Almost as if she summoned him to her presence with just the thought of his name, the front door opened to allow the entrance of the very same wizard. She didn't even stir from the sofa. If she knew how he operated, she knew he would be alone. Too many connections were distractions and dangers in his line of work. Or, maybe it was simply how he felt personally. He wasn't exactly known for being someone with a full dance card.

"How did you find me?"

Draco snorted and sat in the chair nearest the fireplace.

"You've been in Cornwall since April 1st, but you didn't come into this house until April 3rd. Pretty clever of you to not rush straight there. Your husband would've found you. Tell me, where did you learn to climb trees?"

She found his smugness infuriating. In the moments after she ran from Antonin and the other Death Eaters he'd brought with him to capture her, she hadn't been able to think clearly. For days prior to that moment, she'd had Augustus on her mind, constantly worried about his safety. Of course it was a foolish move on her part to go straight there and it was a miracle that Antonin hadn't found her when she did. Knowing that Draco was aware of her movements after she arrived unnerved her. How much more did he know that he wasn't sharing?

"I had a normal Muggle childhood. Don't tell me that wizards don't climb trees when they're young?"

"Not if their last name is Malfoy, they don't."

"How sad. What other deficiencies in your upbringing were you forced to endure?"

"A number I'm certain you would find terribly regrettable."

It wasn't difficult to tell that he was much calmer than he was the last time they spoke. There was still a hint of anger present in his words, but nothing as severe as the night he threw the bottle of fire whiskey at the wood stove. She was glad to see that he wasn't as upset as he had been.

"I was very sorry to hear about Theo. His loss was nothing less than a tragedy."

Draco nodded his head once in response, but didn't immediately say anything in return. As much as he might have kept himself on the outskirts of the Death Eaters over the years, his childhood friendship with Theo never wavered. It was a fact that Hermione took the opportunity to tease the young Nott scion repeatedly about. She never had much use for Draco and couldn't understand how he actually sought out the wizard's company. Theo would laugh off her taunts. Nothing was ever changed in his actions. There was a very real possibility that he was limited in his ascension through the ranks because of that friendship. Anyone who willingly associated with a Malfoy was tainted.

"I'm sure Theodore Senior isn't bothered too much by the loss of his only son."

"You can't know that for certain, Draco. Nott's a difficult man, to be sure, but parents love their children."

His grey eyes flashed with a rage that she had only seen on a few occasions before. The man who smashed the bottle in her tent was once again in her presence. Hermione shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the thoughts of what the next few moments would bring. She still wasn't sure whether or not she could trust the wizard. For all she knew, the highest ranking members of the Resistance were standing outside waiting for him to drag her out so she could face her punishment. Slipping her hand slowly into her pocket, she readied herself just in case she had to use magic to fight her way out again.

"If that's true, Granger, then tell me why Nott offered up his seat next to your husband to his son? I'm sure he didn't anticipate his son taking the full brunt of the blast and protecting Antonin from injury. Must have been angry afterwards that he wasn't able to get rid of his two biggest problems with one Muggle bomb."

"Are you suggesting that Theodore Nott was the one who placed the bomb in the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Not suggesting at all. I'm stating quite clearly that the man has his son's blood on his hands."

"But, Draco, that doesn't make any sense. You and I both know that the Resistance claimed responsibility for the explosion. Nott isn't a member of the Resistance."

Some of his anger dissipated. He sighed and his shoulders sagged. No longer was he on the defensive. She felt slightly calmed, but kept her hand on her wand just to be safe.

"Of course the Resistance claimed responsibility for the bomb. It was a great victory in their eyes. They'd be foolish not to take advantage of the opportunity. Since that day, their numbers have begun to grow again. More and more civilians are joining. Public relations dream for them."

"But they didn't set it?"

"None of the Resistance leaders have any idea who actually planted the bomb. Part of what I've been doing since that day is searching for the culprits. Funny thing is, every time I get close to one, I'm finding an odd connection to Nott."

She had been too long outside of the intrigue of the Inner Circle. Why Theodore Nott Senior would be interested in blowing up not only high-ranking members of the Death Eaters but his only son made little sense to Hermione. Just trying to put the pieces together hurt her brain.

"Nott's been afraid for years that Theo's going to kill him. Something about a prophecy a Seer once gave him when he was young. It's why he was always so hard on him. Of course, a more intelligent man might consider the fact that abused little boys grow up to loathe and fear their fathers. He got rid of the threat while trying to get rid of the threat of your husband."

"How is Antonin a threat to him? They've always been friendly."

"Not friendly, Granger. Cordial. There's a big difference. Nott wants to be the next Dark Lord. He's been trying to gather others to his side. When the Dark Lord dies, and we all know that's going to happen soon, he's going to try to kill Antonin and take his place."

He rose from the chair. Only a few strides of his long legs and he stood in front of the sofa where she sat. To her surprise, he leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek.

"Be careful, Hermione. Nott is a bigger threat to you than your husband ever was."

With his warning still ringing in her ears, he walked through the front door.