June 8th

A troubled mind always made for difficulty sleeping. Every single moment since Rabastan left her desk after stating quite clearly that he was involved in a group determined to bring her husband down if he tried to become the next Dark Lord, Hermione thought of nothing else. There was a time in her life when Antonin had her complete loyalty without question. She would have done anything for her husband. Many times she'd gone against her instincts or desires to ensure that his instincts or desires were followed. Was she willing to forget everything, good and bad, about their past to betray him?

She couldn't get comfortable. Unsure of the time, she knew it was well after midnight. Likely closer to morning than she hoped. It would be a long day at the Ministry if she couldn't get at least some sleep. Missing a day of work wasn't an option. Rabastan might take it as a sign that she wasn't even considering joining him in the future coup d'état. She could be labeled an enemy of his group before she even had a chance to decline or accept his invitation. Now that he was aware that she had some interest in Aberforth that wasn't entirely official, her Co-Head could use that information against her. Maybe she would return to find that Aberforth had been moved to a more secure facility or that he had been executed. No matter how tired she was, she had to remain on her normal schedule. Nothing could be altered.

Part of Hermione was furious that Rabastan would give her so much to think about when she already had enough on her mind. Why couldn't he wait just a little bit longer for her to put her plan to help the elderly wizard escape first before telling her that she would be welcome to join his revolution? She had to remain focused on the plan she created. Getting distracted by Rabastan would end in failure. She couldn't afford to fail. Her future, her very existence was on the line. If something happened to Aberforth, she had no doubt that the short tether Ginny Weasley kept on William Wood would disappear. As much as she couldn't blame the man for his hatred of her, she really didn't like the idea of him getting close enough to kill her.

Any thoughts of Wood always made her remember how close he'd gotten to her in London that horrible night. What would have happened if she wasn't able to get away? It didn't bear considering. She was also bothered with the ease in which it seemed that he found her wandering the streets. London wasn't a tiny village. With a population in the millions, he shouldn't have been able to find her. Experience taught her that coincidences didn't exist. Not really. The smirk he had when their eyes met proved that he wasn't surprised to find her there. William Wood knew where to find her. How?

It was true that there were countless people in their world who wanted Hermione dead. That was a reality she'd been living in for decades. Before the war, during the war, after the war… it was all the same. She knew that she was likely to always be in some measure of danger thanks to her past choices. William Wood was different though. He was tenacious, single-minded, and perhaps, just the right amount of insane to even consider his chances against one of the Dark Lord's most dangerous Death Eaters. Hermione hadn't gotten to the position she was in simply by laying on her back and letting powerful men aid her in her rise to the top. No, she earned her place. In order to earn it, she had to be ruthless. It was certain to come to bite her later.

She couldn't think about Wood finding her so easily in London without her thoughts then invariably changing to Draco. Was he somehow responsible for the ease in which her location was discovered? He knew how to track her, a trick he wasn't willing to share with her just yet, but she had hope that one day he might. How close was he to Wood exactly? There might have been some jealousy between the men, but they were friendly. Was there a time when Draco was kind enough to teach him his mysterious talent? It really was the only option that made any sense.

Even with daily visits to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Hermione hadn't seen Draco for days. Not since his birthday. She knew that his position within the regime kept him away for long periods of time. It was what he preferred. Spending too much time around people he despised wasn't enjoyable for him. Eventually, he would seek her out again. He hadn't made his reasons clear for his continued fascination with her yet. Perhaps, that too, would be another mystery solved.

It was easier for her when he stayed away. Every time she entered the old Headquarters, she expected to turn a corner and find him waiting for her again. Several months had gone by with him flitting in and out of her life in various capacities and he still confused her. He never once made his motivations clear. Other than getting Aberforth released from the prison she was responsible for putting him in, she had no idea what Draco actually wanted from her. Maybe he claimed in a whisper in a darkened room that he thought he was falling in love with her. Maybe he even believed it himself, but she wasn't buying it. Usually, she could think a lot clearer when he wasn't in the vicinity. Something about the wizard felt off. She couldn't explain it exactly.

In an attempt to try to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, she turned on her side again. The light from a lamppost outside on their quiet street fell over her sleeping husband. All thoughts of Draco were temporarily pushed to the back of her mind to focus on Antonin instead. Back in Hogsmeade for almost a month, she knew that he was giving her the space he assumed she needed. Besides the moment in the kitchen that was interrupted by Corban and an innocuous kiss here and there, he'd hardly touched her. It was most unlike him and definitely out of his character to be so considerate.

Before she stabbed him and left him for dead, Antonin had always been the sort to all but demand his rights as her husband. Not that she minded usually. He was a man of many talents and he was almost always in a much better mood afterwards. With such a voracious appetite for the tastes of the flesh, she wondered what he did while she was gone for an entire year. Andromeda Tonks had been dead for three years. Were there other women she didn't know about? He was always discreet in his extramarital affairs, unlike his wife. She only knew about the wretched bitch because their relationship had been going on long before they married.

She knew it was selfish that she rarely thought about the effect that her leaving must have had on him for the past year. Beyond the physical pain she inflicted on him, the worry and concern he claimed to have felt must have been considerable. Maybe there wasn't even time for him to think about how empty his bed was if that was the truth.

Rabastan's offer came rushing back to her mind. Yes, there had been a difficult past with her husband, but was she actually capable of betraying him? She wasn't sure. One moment she thought she could and then the next, she couldn't even imagine it. If Rabastan was expecting an answer soon, he was going to be disappointed.

"Are you all right?"

The sound of Antonin's sleep-heavy voice startled her out of her frustrating worries. She hadn't even realized he'd woken up at some point. Even in the dimness of the room, she could see the concern on his face thanks to the lamppost. Her first instinct was to lie and tell him that she was fine. For a reason she couldn't understand, she opted to be honest.

"I can't turn my mind off long enough to get to sleep. I didn't expect it was going to be easy to come back, but I didn't know I would feel so lost… so overwhelmed."

"Are you wanting to run away again?"

"Honestly? Yes. It was easier when I was out there."

Antonin's sigh was tinged more with sadness than it was frustration. The years together taught his wife how to tell the difference.

"Is it working at the Ministry that's causing this?"

"Partially."

"Maybe you should stop working."

A year or two earlier, the same suggestion would've started a blazing row that wouldn't have ended until they were both ready to murder the other. Walking away from her position at the Ministry wasn't an option in her mind back then. She spent too many years working too hard to just give up so easily. Besides, it would make Rabastan happy, and she'd spent most of her career doing what she could to frustrate and annoy him.

Now, she desired nothing more than to never have to go back to that horrible building. If Aberforth wasn't relying on her to help him escape, she would've taken her husband's suggestion in a heartbeat. It wasn't possible though. By her calculations, the polyjuice potion wouldn't be ready until the beginning of July. She would have to wait long enough to put her plan into motion before even thinking about resigning.

"If I quit now after being back only a few weeks, it'll be seen as a sign of weakness. We can't afford that right now."

It was an argument that he couldn't disagree with. Their world was full of cutthroats out there only looking out for themselves. A single hint of blood in the water would bring the sharks around to feed. They had to be careful.

"I'm sorry that it hasn't been easy for you since you've been back. I'm sure that's my fault."

Petulant, apologetic Antonin was a character she rarely saw. He existed, but the circumstances had to be particularly dire for him to come out. Even in the safety of their bed, her husband rarely was so quick to offer an apology. Usually, he considered them weaknesses, a way for an opponent to gain an upper hand. Was it all an act? Or, had something else changed in her time away?

"I think we're both perfectly capable of making each other miserable, Antonin. You don't own the exclusive rights to that."

She didn't flinch when he reached his hand out to brush his fingertips along her jaw. The feel of his touch was both familiar and strange all at the same time. A vulnerability she could only remember seeing a handful of times appeared on her husband's countenance.

"You and Ollie are the most important things in my life, Hermione. Nothing else matters more than you two. I would do anything to keep you both safe."

There was nothing but sincerity in his statement. In that moment, she actually believed he was telling the truth. When his lips pressed against hers, she didn't push him away. No one interrupted them that time.