April 23rd

With a stomach full of food that didn't make her want to vomit and freshly washed from the perfectly acceptable shower in her hotel room, Hermione had been able to fall into a deep healing sleep soon after checking in. She had the presence of mind to pay for a couple of days up front so there was no rush to getting up that first morning. Between the lingering effects of both her embarrassing episode of confusion, Draco's potion, and the long walk through the forest, her body needed a great deal of rest. She slept almost the entire day away. Night was just about to fall when she finally forced herself out from underneath the covers of the borrowed bed.

Her stomach growled in protest from lack of food, but her first priority was to shower again. Food was relatively easy to procure on the run. Hot showers, however, had to be taken advantage of whenever offered. She lingered a long time under the spray of the hot water. Even knowing that it was unwise to allow herself to remain in such a vulnerable place for a long period of time, she wanted the feel of the warmth on her skin. Simple pleasures in life were often thrown by the wayside when one was in fear for their very existence. Allowing herself the opportunity to enjoy the normalcy of a long, hot shower wasn't asking the Universe for too much. If she ever had the opportunity to exist again in a place where she wasn't on the run nor in fear that she would be captured at any moment by someone who meant her harm, she would never take even the simple act of bathing for granted again. Remembering the deep tub that dominated the luxurious bathroom she shared with her husband made her want to groan aloud at her past stupidity. How did she allow even a single day to pass where she didn't slip into the marble tub filled with bubbles and hot water?

Hot water, even in a commercial establishment, had to run out eventually. She knew that she was pressing her luck by remaining in there any longer. Reluctantly turning the taps off, Hermione stepped out of the hotel shower. The towels offered were never enough to complete a satisfactory job, but she really had no other option. Hotels where the staff accepted cash and required no credit card for a reservation weren't exactly known for being terribly opulent. She had to make do with what was offered in exchange for Muggles who kept their mouths shut and their curiosities to themselves. When she was satisfied that at least she was no longer dripping with water, she wrapped the inadequate towel around her torso and stepped outside.

Just as he had months earlier, Draco made himself comfortable on the side of the bed she hadn't slept on. He sat with his back against the headboard flipping through the pages of the hotel's information book where the local delivery menus were kept. Glancing up only briefly when she entered the room clad only in the thin towel, a small smirk appeared on his lips. He continued to flip through the pages while Hermione rolled her eyes and searched for clean clothes to wear.

"I've always been fascinated by the Muggles' method of delivering food. It seems like such an odd service to offer."

"Not everyone grew up in a manor full of house-elves who could bring them whatever they desired with a snap of their fingers."

"What a positively barbaric existence!"

His mock surprise threatened to make the witch laugh. No matter how frustrating it was to find the wizard making himself at home in her private hotel room, he had his moments when he could be somewhat amusing. She would have never fathomed that he had more than one side to him than obnoxious git before the new year began. What else was she destined to learn about the man as time wore on? With her clothes in hand, she disappeared back into the bathroom to change. As soon as she was fully dressed, she returned to confront the man for his unexpected presence yet again in her life.

"Your claim that you don't have a tracking spell on me is a complete lie."

Far from being offended, Draco burst out into loud laughter. Hermione was surprised by the response. He was not a wizard who was quick to allow his emotions, even positive, seemingly innocuous ones, to overtake his countenance. At his father's knee, he learned how to control every single expression he possessed. The Malfoys were gifted in their abilities to remain perfectly neutral on the outside, leaving nothing but mystery on the inside. It was a trait that she had to work extremely hard at to convey while it seemed to come naturally to them.

"If you think that you are going to trip me up enough that I'll come right out and admit how it is that I'm tracking you, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

"So you're claiming that there is not a tracking spell on me or any item within my possession?"

"Check for yourself, if you don't believe me. Surely you know the simple incantation to find them."

She rolled her eyes at his suggestion. Of course she knew how to discover a tracking charm. Antonin taught her how to tell the difference in dozens of them. The problem with checking, however, was she had to use the magic she wasn't allowed to use. One spell and her husband would be breaking down the door of her hotel room. Draco knew that. He also knew that he would be in a great deal of trouble if it was discovered that he knew where she was and hadn't offered up that information. If he thought the Malfoy family could fall no further, he would be proven absolutely wrong.

"You know I can't do that. The Trace is on me, just like everyone else. Would you like my husband to find you alone with me in a hotel room? How do you suppose he would think this looks?"

Undeterred, Draco laughed again. He tossed the hotel's book aside to give her his full attention.

"And what were you doing alone with Aberforth Dumbledore those days you two left the village? Picking wildflowers? Searching for that ridiculous creature the Lovegoods are always going on about? The Rumpled-Horned Snackcake, is it?"

He was right and how she hated it when he was. Since the day she lost her temper and managed to get Aberforth captured by the Death Eaters, she hadn't been tempted to even try to use what she learned. It seemed too dangerous. Her emotions had been all over the place the day she attacked the Resistance leader to his detriment. Perhaps if she was able to remain calm enough, she would be able to apply what she learned. If she wasn't, however, it was highly likely that this time she would not be able to escape from Antonin. There had already been too many close calls. She was a fool if she thought she could continue to tempt fate.

Just to be safe, she shoved her beaded bag into her pocket after she pulled out her second wand. If she had to run, she wanted to be able to do so in a moment. With her real wand in one hand and her unregistered wand in her dominant hand, Hermione took several deep breaths. In order to cloak her magic she had to be completely calm. Maybe if she was able to practice it a bit more without fear of capture, she might get to the point where she was able to cloak it without thought. The only place she could be certain that she would be able to get enough practice would be right under her husband's nose. That was hardly the most ideal place to be. She would just have to make do with what she had.

Several minutes passed before she felt confident enough to attempt even the most basic of spells to search for a tracking charm. Relieved when she was successful, she felt her confidence grow a bit stronger. She tried a few more before she decided Draco had been telling the truth. Whatever it was that he was doing to track her down all over the country, it wasn't a tracking spell placed on her or any of her possessions. His secret was safe for a little bit longer.

"How are you able to find me if not with a tracking spell?"

"I'm still not going to tell you my secret, Hermione. No matter how nicely you ask."

His wink made her want to curse his eyes. He was annoying her. Clearly she had spent too much of her life having every question she asked answered. It had been part of her department's function after all. Having someone so blatantly disregard her demand for answers was infuriating. Draco sought to change the topic of conversation by taking a look around the room and sneering.

"Not a very nice place, is it?"

Her annoyance increased.

"I don't have access to my vault. My options are limited."

"I have a home and no one would suspect you were staying there."

Draco's unexpected offer made her forget her irritation long enough to laugh in response. The very idea of living in Malfoy Manor with Lucius and Narcissa hovering around nearby was unfathomable. Not only would she rather be just about anywhere else in the entire world than in the house where she was first tortured, she couldn't stand his parents. She would prefer Antonin to find her and drag her back to Scotland by her hair.

"I'm not talking about the Manor, if that's what you find so funny. It's another place entirely. Not even in Wiltshire. I'm rarely there, but it's private and much nicer than this horrid place."

He rose from the bed. Forcing a promise out of her that she would at least consider the offer, he exited the hotel room leaving her alone once more.