June 28th

Hermione could feel someone watching her from the shadows. While she couldn't be certain that whomever it was meant her any harm, rarely had she experienced a similar situation when they didn't. She had always been very careful when she made her trips to the crumbling Black family home on Grimmauld Place. Cloaking her magic so that her husband wasn't aware of where she went was just the first step. Never did she approach the house directly without concern for her surroundings. Not paying attention to the immediate area was how one got captured or killed. Rodolphus Lestrange was a valued trainer in being stealthy when she was a young, willing recruit.

From the moment her feet touched down on the rundown London street where the house was located, she'd felt ill at ease. Intuition was a valuable tool that not everyone was smart enough to utilize. Too often it was simply dismissed as being a silly 'woman thing'. She learned how vital it was to trust her gut. More than a few times she'd been able to extricate herself from a sticky situation to live another day just by trusting her instincts. It was unnerving to feel eyes on her that she couldn't see.

The possible culprits were nobody she really wanted to consider. Draco was ruled out as a possibility. What would he have to gain from sitting outside watching the area surrounding his property? He'd already set up wards to tell him any time someone entered or exited. Based on the pleasurable encounters they'd been able to share more than a couple of times in the past month as she brewed the polyjuice potion, she knew that he wasn't shy about waltzing through the front door. No, if it was the owner, he wouldn't bother waiting outside.

Unfortunately, the most logical choice would have to be the worst possible one. William Wood already knew that the house existed. He'd stepped inside its walls and seen it with his own eyes. His desire to track her down to force her to pay for murdering his younger brother was consuming. He wouldn't rest until he exacted his revenge. She would almost despise the man if she didn't recognize a fellow crazy person suffering in their grief. If the roles were reversed, she would want him dead too. With the sickening knowledge that he was in possession of Draco's tracking spell secrets, it wasn't farfetched to imagine that he was the one keeping a close eye on her as she approached the house.

Leading Wood, or anyone with nefarious intentions right to the front door of the home she was brewing an illegal potion in was foolish. With the end of her plan in sight, she couldn't afford any complications. Even if it meant leaving the potion alone for a couple of days, hoping and praying nothing happened to it, she would. A temporary setback was infinitely preferable to arrest or murder. Glad that she was no longer so arrogant about her position in the regime that she didn't worry about her safety, Hermione remained in the neglected garden several houses down from Number Twelve considering her next move. The wrong decision would be disastrous. She couldn't blow her cover or Draco's for that matter.

The possibility that she was simply being paranoid was considered. Maybe it was only her guilty conscience making her imagine dangerous people that weren't even really there. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she imagined something that turned out to be untrue. Her memories were unreliable. Perhaps her instincts were as well? But, somehow, at least in that particular moment, she didn't think so. More reminders of her training with Rodolphus came to the forefront of her mind.

"If you don't feel perfectly at ease in a situation, Hermione, pay attention."

She wondered if there was a way to enter the house from the back. With as large as structure as it was, there must be some door she could force open. Orion Black was notoriously paranoid. Even his son didn't know all of his secrets. His children were encouraged to stay as far away from the other children in the area as possible. Filthy Muggles were not good enough for members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He would've done all that he could to discourage his children from sneaking out of back doors.

Hermione slipped away from the garden she was hiding in, careful to not make any noise. Keeping to the darkened corners whenever possible, she began moving away from the house. She would have to double back, but her hope was to get whomever was on her trail off of it first. It didn't take long until she was certain without any doubts at all that she was being followed. And it was definitely someone with extensive experience in being stealthy. Not knowing Wood's talents or his exact function within the Resistance, she couldn't be sure that he wasn't competent enough to follow her so well. She didn't think it was him though. He'd never kept his intention to murder her when he had a chance to himself. If Wood was following her, he would have already tried to attack her. Failed, no doubt, but still tried.

When it became clear that she was in no danger of eluding her shadow, Hermione changed tactics. She spun around in place to head back towards her true destination. The change in direction could force the stalker to cross her path. Clearly anticipating such a move, she didn't see them. It was frustrating to know that she was at their mercy. Sure, she could leave the area with a simple spell, but she had a purpose for being there in the first place. She didn't like it when people got in her way.

The closer she got to Number Twelve, she noticed a narrow alley running behind the line of homes. She didn't think there would be an entrance to the house, but it wouldn't hurt to try. At the very least, she could hopefully trap her pursuer long enough to figure out who it was. Once she knew who it was, she could find out why.

Stepping into an confined space with no promise of an escape was never a perfect option. A lot could go wrong. The trap she set could easily trap her instead. She'd had plenty of experiences in her past where she was only just able to get out of a situation alive. The feeling used to excite her. No longer. Only a few steps into the alley and she felt a sudden rush of air. Her body was slammed up against a wall, pinned in place by a much larger frame. Unable to see who it was that had her cheek and her stomach pressed into the bricks, she quickly got the impression that this wasn't Draco planning another surprise like back in the woods around Hogsmeade.

"Did you really think I would fall for a trap? Tsk tsk. You underestimate me, Hermione."

Few people were left alive in their world that addressed her by her first name. Even fewer that would care whether or not she could breathe in the position she was in. Her assailant stepped back far enough that she was still pinned, but no longer crushed. He'd already saved her life several times before. Why would he allow his past efforts to be in vain?

"Maybe I've finally gotten you right where I want you. I used to fancy you when I was younger. What girl doesn't dream of a handsome auror pushing her up against a wall in a dark alley?"

"Former auror. If I let you go, will you promise not to run or hex me in the eyes?"

"And risk damaging that pretty face? I wouldn't dream of it."

"Hermione…"

"All right. I promise."

Kingsley Shacklebolt released his grip on the witch, but even without touching her, Hermione knew that she wouldn't be fast enough to get away. Whatever he'd been doing in the past twenty years when he wasn't saving a foolish woman from the ravages of potion-withdrawal, it was evident that he'd kept his skills developed as a dark wizard catcher honed. She'd grown lazy. Even if she didn't consider the year on the run, she'd allowed her position in the Ministry to make her soft.

"What do you want, Kingsley?"

"I saw you enter the old Headquarters two days ago and then again yesterday. Thought you might be back today, so I waited."

"Why?"

A shrug of his shoulders and a hint of a grin was the only answer he was prepared to give. Hermione couldn't understand what he had to gain for seeking her out. It wasn't as if they were friends or even allies. She would always appreciate the assistance he provided her when she was first on the run, but that didn't suddenly make them friends. He grew serious.

"Have you been taking any illegal potions since you left my flat?"

What business was that of his? She started to grow defensive, but thought twice. Maybe she did owe him the truth after he took her in.

"No illegal potions. I've only taken the ones my husband gives me."

"And can you trust him not to give you something harmful?"

"Yes, the ones he gives me are to calm me down when I get confused."

The moment she uttered the words, she wished she hadn't. She didn't know if she could trust the wizard with the knowledge that she wasn't as strong mentally as she should've been. But, considering this was also the man who bathed her when she was covered in her own vomit with more tenderness than she knew he possessed, maybe that wasn't exactly breaking news to him. She rushed to say something to change the subject.

"What are you doing here, Kingsley? Aren't you more content hiding out there amongst the Muggles?"

"There are rumblings even amongst the Muggles that the world is about to get interesting again."

Even in the time that she spent in his flat over a year earlier, she never considered that he might be interested in getting involved with their world again. He'd somehow managed to etch out an existence with the Muggles that he seemed to enjoy. She found him to be a mystery, one that she wasn't even sure she wanted to solve.

"Are you part of the Resistance?"

His lips split into a wide smile. It really was unfair how handsome he was. She wasn't lying when she said she used to fancy him when she was a teenager. Fighting the Death Eaters with him on top of a thestral didn't help matters.

"I fight for only one man." He pointed to his own chest with his thumb. "Kingsley Shacklebolt. Who do you fight for, Hermione?"

She couldn't answer that question. Once she wouldn't hesitate to say the Dark Lord. He was her master and the only reason she was alive. That was no longer the case. Even saying that she fought for her family wasn't true. Before she could give him a proper answer, Kingsley leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"I'll be seeing you again soon. Try to be more careful when you're sneaking into supposedly abandoned houses."

Kingsley Disapparated from the alley moments later. When she approached the house again, she took his advice to heart. She really couldn't be too careful. Who knew who else might be out there watching?