April 29th

By Hermione's third night in Draco's flat without him returning even once, she stopped worrying so much about him potentially betraying her to either side. Knowing that she was a proven flight risk, he wouldn't have waited so long to reveal her whereabouts to someone who wanted her blood. One thing she had always known about the wizard since their first year together as classmates in the castle was he was far from being unintelligent. In fact, there were many classes that he was a formidable opponent in the race for the top marks. He would understand just as well as she that he would have to move quickly to turn her over. With the exception of the time she spent within the Resistance's village and the days in Cornwall, she made it a point not to linger too long in a single area.

No, she wasn't worried that he was planning her demise, but a nagging thought in the back of her mind didn't allow her to rest as easy as perhaps she should have been. Where was he? Her worries transferred from his motivations for allowing her refuge in his home to why he had been gone so long. Though she wouldn't come right out and admit so, even just to herself, she was worried about the tracker. His position within the ranks of the Death Eaters came with its own set of hazards. Mixing in the fact that he was playing both sides, he was in perpetual danger.

She had a number of questions for him that she hoped he would one day answer. But, after she had the opportunity to get to know the man better than ever before in the previous months, she highly doubted he would ever come completely clean. Each hour that he was away from his flat brought numerous other questions to mind. How long had he been working with the Resistance? What was his true motivation? She was fascinated to understand his reasons for turning his back on the Dark Lord. It seemed like a poor decision and she wanted to know why he would willingly surround himself with fools and idiots who didn't understand that their world was better because of the hard work of the regime. Still, as much as she was certain she would disagree with his choices and why he made them, she longed to know more. It was the perpetual curse of the curious.

Draco's flat was surprisingly more comfortable than she would've expected. While she helped herself to the food he had so graciously provided and enjoyed the books he had strewn about his home haphazardly and took advantage of his sinfully expensive linens, she could feel herself growing more comfortable with the space by the minute. She had even helped herself to the enormous marble bathtub that took up most of his bathroom. When she could no longer ignore her curiosity and gave into the decidedly rude desire to snoop around his flat in the midst of her second day alone, she hadn't been able to resist the temptation of filling the tub with the sweet smelling foams and forgetting her cares until the water turned too cold to enjoy.

The hour was growing late and the incredible guest bed was calling her out to her as she prepared herself for yet another night alone in the flat. As she moved about the large main room extinguishing the lamps she had been using, Hermione was startled by the abrupt opening of the front door. Draco entered, blessedly alone, covered in the dust of several days of living rough and an exhausted expression on his face that told his guest he had likely been awake for longer than was healthy. Without saying a single word to her or even bothering to acknowledge her presence in any way, the wizard entered his bedroom and immediately shut the door behind him. His actions had been so swift that for a moment, she wondered if she'd imagined them. Only the sounds of a drawer opening and then the running water of the shower convinced her she wasn't going completely mad.

All indications that she had been tired disappeared, she wanted to talk to him and hoped he wouldn't crawl into his own bed moments after leaving the shower. Expecting that the man was likely hungry, she pulled food she'd prepared earlier in the evening out. Carefully cloaking her rewarming spells, she trusted that the enticing aroma of dinner wafting through the flat would bring the wizard to where she was waiting at the kitchen table.

Her gamble, as it turned out, worked perfectly. Emerging from his bedroom with wet hair and dressed in pajamas, he looked more relaxed that she had ever seen him before. She assumed that it had a great deal to do with being in his own home. Most people were able to completely relax in the safety of their home. Once upon a time, Hermione had been able to do the same. Now, even just the thought of returning to her house in Hogsmeade made her heart race in fear. She would find no relaxation there ever again.

Draco seemed surprised by the plate of food waiting for him in front of an empty chair at the table. He nodded his thanks silently to Hermione before taking a seat. As tempted as she was to begin immediately asking him a dozen questions about his activities over the previous few days he'd been gone, Hermione held her tongue. She didn't want to scare him off before she learned anything. A few awkward minutes of silence passed with only the sounds of the clock above the fireplace ticking and the scrape of a utensil on his plate. To Hermione's surprise, Draco was finally the one to break the silence.

"I'm surprised you're still awake."

"I was about to go to bed when you surprised me."

He didn't have anything further to say at that point. She was afraid that if she let him stay quiet for too long, he wouldn't answer her questions.

"Thank you for letting me stay in your flat. It was very generous."

At first, his only response to her statement of gratitude was to shrug his shoulders. Once he finished chewing what was in his mouth, he spoke, but didn't lift his eyes to meet hers.

"It was empty and no one will suspect you're here."

If she knew him better, she might have been able to understand what he was trying not to say. For someone whose purpose used to be to interrogate any potential enemies or traitors to the regime, her concept of social cues were embarrassingly inadequate after so long away from regular human interactions. Her curiosity still not satiated, Hermione pressed on.

"Not even the Resistance? Surely they must know we are friendly?"

With an unexpected smirk on his face, Draco laid his fork down on his plate. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, Hermione was confused. What had she said that was amusing? It bothered her immensely that she didn't understand the wizard. There was a time in her life when she had been an excellent judge of people. Had she lost her touch? Or was he simply impossible to read?

"First, of all, Hermione, none of the Resistance members have ever been inside my home."

"Not even Ginny Weasley?"

She didn't know why the question slipped out of her mouth. It was none of her business if he brought witches to his home. Absolutely none. But, from the night in the tent in the middle of the forest that she saw Ginny and Draco embrace, she'd been curious about their past. They were more than just simple allies. Hermione used to have plenty of those. Not once did she ever feel the urge to hug Gregory Goyle or his father. She didn't think that she was far off-base to assume their relationship was a little bit more than he was admitting.

For yet another moment in their brief time seated at the table together, Draco was amused by something she said. His face split into a wide grin and his chuckles threatened to grow louder. Her first instinct was to run away if he was going to be ridiculous. Were they not both adults? Could he not answer a simple question?

"Would it bother you if I told you that Ginny had been a guest in my home many, many times?"

He was teasing her. She didn't appreciate it.

"Forget I even asked."

"No, Ginny has never been in my home. Nor have I been in hers, if you're curious."

She was, but she didn't want to make it obvious. What he did in his private life was his business. Just as he had no right to know everything about hers, she could let him keep his secrets.

"I've actually spent the last month doing everything I can to convince the Resistance that you are now my enemy. Even made it seem like I've been unable to track you."

"Why?"

There were many reasons why she could imagine that he would try to distance himself from her when it came to the Resistance, but she wanted to hear his from his own mouth. She understood that it was safer for him to make her the common enemy. After all, if he truly wanted to work with the Resistance for the revolution they were all convinced was coming, being on her side would make him an enemy too.

"Aberforth Dumbledore saved my life ten years ago. He's had my loyalty ever since."

Hermione didn't know what to say in response. There was a history there that she didn't know anything about. If he was telling the truth, and for once she didn't get the impression that he was holding back the facts, it would make sense if he was persuaded to hand her over to the Resistance for punishment. Was there more to this story than she was aware? More reasons to keep her protected?

"Aberforth isn't dead yet. For whatever reason, the Dark Lord hasn't had him executed yet. There's still a chance that he could be saved."