June 5th

Returning to work at the Ministry the day after Rabastan made his not-so-veiled invitation to join him in overthrowing her husband in the inevitable power struggle looming ahead put Hermione in an awkward position. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say to the man's request. Did he actually believe that she would be willing to betray her husband of over a decade? The more she considered it, the more she realized that yes, he did. After all, she'd almost killed her husband. While that wasn't common knowledge to their society at large, the secret had to have been known by the entire Inner Circle. Certainly Rabastan wasn't the sort of person to not seek out any potential information on his rivals.

He very well could be using what he knew about their tumultuous marriage to make his offer. Did he think that he could turn her so easily with just a few pretty words and touches of her hair? If so, he was losing his edge. Or, perhaps more unnerving, he hadn't even begun trying. He could become more creative as time went by. Part of her felt that there was a time she would've been easily persuaded to join forces against her husband. But, she couldn't afford to get sucked into the power struggle. Not when she had a mission ahead of her that could mean the end of her life if she failed. Once Aberforth was released, she would be out of the country so quickly no one would be able to drag her into that mess.

There was no sign of Rabastan all day long. Whether he was fulfilling orders of another sort that took him away from the Ministry or if he was simply skipping work to give Hermione ample time to think over his offer, she didn't mind. It was easier when he wasn't pretending not to stare at her from across the room. She could think clearly when he wasn't around.

Just as she was preparing to leave for the day, her red and puffy-eyed assistant walked into the office carrying a delivered message. Hermione didn't even bother hiding the rolling of her eyes. If the girl was that upset over the end of her relationship with Rabastan, she wouldn't have been able to survive a minute in their world without crumbling to bits. Lots of people thought they were strong enough to enter in the ranks of the Death Eaters only to discover quite quickly how wrong they were. Holding the message in her hands, she didn't open it until the horrible witch was out of the room.

She didn't recognize the handwriting on the outside of the sealed parchment. In fact, unless she was mistaken, it appeared that whomever wrote the missive wanted to disguise their usual writing. There were plenty of opportunities for an owl to be intercepted when it was sent to the Ministry. No doubt part of her assistant's arrangement with Rabastan was to open any of Hermione's correspondence when presented with the opportunity and report to him anything worth knowing. Carefully tearing open the note, Hermione bit back a smile when she read the contents.

Same time and place as last Tuesday

Perhaps only ten minutes passed from the time she left her office to the moment she was stepping into the familiar grove of trees where she met Draco the week before. There would be no other reason for him to risk exposing their connection unless he had good news about the polyjuice potion. Almost as soon as she arrived, she felt the familiar grips of his arms around her body. Instead of pressing her up against a tree as he'd done only a couple of weeks earlier, he spun them both in place, Disapparating them away from the heavily wooded area.

Side-Along Apparition was miserable under the best of circumstances. The moment her feet landed on a solid surface and the tracker released his hold on her, she spun around to slap him on his firm chest. If any other soul tried to capture her and take her against her will to an unknown location, they would get much worse.

"Don't ever Side-Along me again without warning, Draco."

He smirked, her warning amusing more than frightening. Feeling the temperature in the room begin to rise, or perhaps just in her flushed cheeks, Hermione looked away from the wizard at her surroundings. Wherever they were, it wasn't luxurious. Perhaps it had been at one time, but the heavy layer of dust and cobwebs coating every surface hid all of its former splendor.

"Where have you dragged me?"

"I'm surprised you don't recognize it."

Looking up from the decaying carpet to make a better examination of the location, she realized almost immediately that she did recognize the crumbling house. Over twenty years had come and gone since she last graced its halls, but Number Twelve Grimmauld Place still held fond memories from the time in her life that she was young and so certain that good would prevail over evil. Overcome with an influx of emotion that threatened to bring tears to her eyes, Hermione sniffed and willed them away.

"Why are we here?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders, a smirk appearing on his face.

"As the last of the Blacks, it's mine. No one ever comes here. Most don't even know it still exists."

She could see how that would be true. It wouldn't be around for much longer if the neglect was still allowed to continue. Still unsure why he would bring her there, Hermione allowed him to lead her down the narrow staircase to the basement kitchen. Seeing the familiar table where many meals were spent with members of the Order and then later with just her boys, the emotions from earlier returned at full force. It was all beginning to feel overwhelming. She turned her attention to a small cauldron at the end of the table. Walking towards it, she hoped that the various vials surrounding it were what she assumed they were.

"I couldn't find any already brewed, but I was able to call in enough favors to get the ingredients."

"What do I owe you?"

Money was no longer an issue now that she had access to her vaults, but she was also aware that money had little value to a Malfoy. They already had plenty. Likely, Draco would come to her later when he had a favor. Considering the danger she was forcing him to be in just by being around the ingredients for the highly illegal concoction, she was going to owe him a great deal. Possibly even more than she could offer. If he did all of this for the purpose of encouraging her to be the Resistance's spy again, she wasn't sure what she would do. Instead of coming right out and admitting what he wanted, he just shrugged his shoulders again.

"I'm sure we can figure out some mutually beneficial arrangement."

His confident wink made her laugh. If all he wanted in exchange for the ingredients and the danger that possessing them brought to his existence was the use of her body, that was a bargain she was prepared to make. Certainly she'd done more for less in the past. And it wasn't as if she wouldn't be willing to slip into his bed again and again. As long as he put a stop to the ridiculous notion that he was somehow falling in love with her, she would meet him in whatever dark corner he desired whenever he wished until she repaid her debt.

"You are free to use the house as you need to brew. No one will bother you here."

"That's very generous of you, Draco."

She reached out to pick up the various vials to inspect the quality of the goods. Even just a quick glance proved they were of the highest quality. Nothing less for a Malfoy, of course. Her curiosity about what sort of favors he had completed to earn him the ability to get the difficult to procure ingredients was certainly something she desired to quench. How was it possible that every visit with the man simply increased her number of questions?

"I ask only that while you're here, you cloak your magic."

Hermione carefully set down the vial of boomslang skin she held in her hands to turn around and face the man. What kind of request was that? Before she could ask him what he meant by it, Draco spoke again.

"Your husband is probably still tracing your magic. If you were to use it somewhere unfamiliar or unexpected, he would probably come look for himself what you've been up to. It would be rather awkward if Antonin showed up here."

As much as she wanted to deny that her husband was still tracing her magic to see where she was, she couldn't. It was exactly the sort of action Antonin would take. Despite pretending that he trusted her enough to leave her alone, he was still watchful, still ever vigilant for the moment she decided to run again. She nodded her head, a promise that she would do as Draco asked. With a smile on his face, he slid his arms around her waist to rest on her back.

"Did you know that today was my birthday?"

She shook her head. It was hard enough sometimes to keep up with her own birthday. His arms tightened their hold.

"I think before you get started on brewing your potion that I'd like to unwrap my present first."

All thoughts about the polyjuice potion were temporarily pushed aside as he made good on his promise. When he set her naked body on top of the old table and began pulling moans and screams from her mouth with just the flick of his tongue, the touch of his hand, she idly thought it would be easier to push away the haunted memories attached to the filthy kitchen if she had much more pleasurable ones to replace them.