May 16th

Hermione's third day back at the Ministry following her long absence was just as quiet as the previous two days. While she wasn't entirely sure what she expected when she just dropped in Monday morning on her former colleagues with no warning, it was almost eerie how seemingly normal it all was. Once she made it clear to Rabastan that she wasn't interested in resuming their unconventional partnership, he'd basically left her alone to discover what all had been done since she left. Mountains of rolled parchments and case files littered the top of her desk. Thanks to the Leaky Cauldron explosion, their department had been very busy.

She still hadn't seen a glimpse of Aberforth Dumbledore by her third day. Nor heard his name mentioned. Even though he was a high-level capture, he was not a priority. The only reason she knew he was still alive and awaiting his eventual execution was because his personal file hadn't yet been filed away downstairs. He was still an active case, if not a particularly important one.

Exhausted again due to being unused to certain aspects of her former life, Hermione left the Ministry of Magic for home before anyone else in her department. Rabastan gave her an odd look, but he didn't stop her from leaving. She knew he would allow her to do anything that made her look weak. Even with their history, he wanted her out of his department. Or, at least in a position beneath his. He'd always admired the good work she did. Ambition infected most of the ranks of the Death Eaters. No one was safe when another had their eye on something they desired. It was a game she used to enjoy playing. Now, she lacked the energy and the stomach for it.

No one was home to greet her when she stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen. She didn't really expect anyone. Antonin was nowhere to be found that morning when she left for work. He never came to bed after their argument the night before. Very few times in their marriage, regardless of how ugly and violent their rows got, did her husband refuse to sleep in the same room she was in. A folded up blanket on the living room couch answered her question as to where he spent the night.

She didn't mind that the man didn't feel welcome to sleep in his own bed. His absence made the entire situation much less complicated. Eventually he was going to want to touch her again, and she was far from ready for that. Perhaps if she continued to pick fights with Antonin, he'd leave her alone completely. Once her task was completed and either Aberforth was released or she was captured, their lack of marital relations wouldn't matter anyway. She had no plans to stay in Hogsmeade any longer than absolutely necessary.

The bottle of fire whiskey they opened the night before still sat in the middle of the table. Based on the level of the amber liquid, her husband enjoyed more than just one additional drink after she went upstairs to bed. All the more reason why she was glad he stayed downstairs. A drunk Dolohov was an irritable Dolohov, and she was woefully out of practice with dealing with one. Simply for something to do with her hands, Hermione picked up the dirty glasses and carried them to the sink.

Her time staying in the Jordan family's home in the middle of the Resistance village allowed her the opportunity to finally understand what her husband found soothing about hand-washing dishes. She turned the taps on to fill the sink with hot, soapy water. Maybe taking a few minutes to breathe and complete a mindless task would help her to sort out her thoughts. The combination of remembering her short time in the Resistance village and the disturbing reminder that if she stayed too long in her house her husband was likely to want to seduce her again filled her mind with thoughts of Draco.

She knew running out of his flat without leaving a word had been unkind. Because of his ability to track not only her but countless fugitives throughout the country, she knew it wouldn't take him long to figure out where she'd gone. Likely he'd known for days. She wouldn't put it past him to go out searching the moment he realized she was gone.

Almost as if her very thoughts summoned the wizard, Hermione saw a flash of movement in her back garden through the kitchen window. How he managed to know when to seek her out was baffling. Just like when she was living in the village and always seconds away from crossing the wards to leave, he was there waiting to encourage her to stay. The timing was always suspicious, like he was always just there lingering in the wings to swoop down to come to her rescue and convince her to stay just a little bit longer. She still wasn't quite sure how she allowed him to manipulate her so.

She peered out the window again to make sure her eyes weren't failing her. If Draco really was in Hogsmeade standing in her back garden, he was being foolish. Antonin could be home any moment. How would he explain his presence if caught? It wasn't as if there was a history of the tracker just randomly dropping by after all. A confrontation between her husband and her latest lover could very likely get ugly. Turning off the taps, Hermione dried her hands on a towel and headed out the back door. She needed to put her curiosity to rest and get the man as far away from her home as possible.

"What are you doing here, Draco?"

"What are you doing here, Hermione?"

She could tell just by his tone that this was going to be an awkward, upsetting conversation. Nervous energy radiated off of the man. Had he been angry the entire time she was gone? Or, perhaps more unbelievably, was he frightened that something bad happened to her? Time away from him helped her think a little clearer. Or maybe it was because of the potions. As much as she hated to admit so, it was easier to think. Her mind was more lucid under their influence.

"I live here. For almost twenty years now actually."

Draco rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. She wasn't used to seeing him nervous. What changed in the almost week since she'd been gone? It usually took a lot to get him the least bit ruffled. Was there more to his visit than she knew?

"Tell me why you're here, Draco. How'd you know where to find me?"

"It wasn't difficult. Rabastan's been complaining to anyone that will listen about you being back in the Ministry. He hoped you'd never come back."

Hermione sighed. It was no surprise to hear that her Co-Head was upset about her return. Despite his age, Rabastan could behave like the most petulant child at times. She assumed that his years in Azkaban stunted his emotional growth. No doubt he was already planning his next moves to push her out again. Maybe next time he'd use deadly force. She didn't really care. It wasn't as if her life was worth that much. All of her problems would end if she was dead. Some days that was an attractive prospect.

"Yes, well, I didn't want to come back either, but I didn't have a choice."

"Of course you did. You shouldn't have left my flat."

The wizard closed the space between them. He gripped her shoulders painfully to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. Taken completely aback, she stood there frozen, unsure what to do next. Any movement at all would simply encourage the wizard. She was regretting their time together in his flat. What if what he whispered in her ear the night before she left was actually true? No one deserved the misery of falling in love with her. Hadn't she already ruined both Augustus' and Antonin's lives just by her mere presence? If Draco truly cared for her, it was best that she cut it off as quickly as possible. Though it took a couple of sharp shoves, she was able to move his body away from hers.

"If Antonin comes home and finds you, he'll kill you."

Draco was undeterred by her threats. He moved again to recapture her mouth, but she was ready for him. Taking a step to the side, he just missed. Hermione didn't like the aggression he was displaying. This man was confusing her. Had he always been like this and she just simply didn't notice? She shook her head. It was the exhaustion of the last few days messing with her head.

"I'm not worried about your husband. Besides, I know for a fact he's in London right now."

She started to ask him what he knew, but stopped before the words formed fully. Rolling her eyes and sighing, she knew exactly why he was in London. There was a dingy old flat just above the secondhand shop in Diagon Alley that he liked to visit when they were at odds… which in the past was quite often.

"Ahh, I see. So my husband is off visiting your aunt again."

His light grey eyes narrowed at her remark. The skin of his forehead wrinkled in confusion. She fought another frustrated eye roll. Surely he wasn't that thick.

"Your aunt…" He tilted his head as if he couldn't even understand English. What was his problem? "… Andromeda. It's not exactly as if he's been able to keep that a secret. The whole bloody country probably knows whose bed my husband is warming when he's not in mine."

His lack of response failed to put her at ease. Had she said something completely unintelligible? Draco wasn't the only one who made a similar face when she mentioned her husband's long-term mistress. She thought back to the day in Augustus' kitchen when he looked at her in almost the identical manner. Was there something she didn't know? The wizard shook his head once and met her eyes.

"No, he's meeting with several high-ranking Death Eaters at the White Wyvern. No idea why. My informant said they'd ordered dinner, so it's likely they'll be there for a while."

"Good for them."

She didn't want to continue their conversation. Being around Draco made her uncomfortable. Maybe she was feeling guilty about walking out on him. Or she was worried that she was leading him on. The sex had been amazing, but she wasn't anywhere as invested in it as he was if he was claiming he might be falling in love with her. She wanted to go back inside her home and try to forget this conversation ever happened. If she got distracted, she might not be able to complete her mission. Failure was not an option.

"You should leave, Draco."

Ignoring the hurt expression that crossed his features, Hermione turned on her heel to return to her kitchen. Part of her was surprised that he didn't insist on following her inside, but mostly, she was glad to look out her window and see him gone. She didn't understand him at all. Perhaps she was doomed to always be surrounded by frustrating men who confused her to no end.