September 22nd

If Hermione wasn't so damned comfortable and well-rested, she might have been angry about the nasty trick that Draco pulled on her. A Dreamless Sleep potion? She should've been able to see that one coming a hundred kilometers away. But, when she woke up in his luxurious guest bed between what was either million thread count sheets or bloody fairy wings, she struggled to find the proper amount of rage for such a dubious act. She couldn't even get upset when she looked under the covers and discovered that the only bits of clothing he'd removed from her body were her shoes. By all accounts, he'd been a perfect gentleman while she was in his care.

She had no idea how much time passed with her dead to the world. Long enough at least that she was feeling less confused and fuzzyheaded. She wouldn't have lasted much longer in her previous state without either succumbing to her exhaustion or full-blown madness. It might have been sneaky and underhanded to slip her a potion against her will, but she was thankful. Without him taking it upon himself to do what he believed she needed done, she would've wandered away from his flat in worse shape than she arrived.

Part of her was afraid that when she finally climbed out of the decadent bed that she'd discover she'd been double-crossed. Maybe Rodolphus was waiting out in the lounge for her to sleep off the potion his nephew gave her. What his plan was for her was still something of a mystery. She didn't think that it was likely to be good no matter what it was. Antonin seemed to believe that Rodolphus was trying to mold her into some version of his late wife. It made the most sense out of the other ridiculous theories she had swirling around in her overactive imagination. Rodolphus might just be some sort of demented romantic who saw an opportunity to fix a mistake he made in his youth.

Or he was completely nuts and there was not a logical explanation for anything that he did. She couldn't really afford to try to get inside of his head. It was too messy of a place and truthfully, she wished for nothing more than to get through the rest of her life without crossing paths with the animagus again. After meeting him alone in her home in Hogsmeade, she feared that the next time they met, he wouldn't be so calm or so willing to let her leave. She had to be more careful. That included not allowing a known associate of his to drug her into unconsciousness.

Climbing out of the bed, even though she wanted to snuggle in deeper, she put her shoes Draco had left thoughtfully next to the bed on. A quick inventory of her pockets proved that he hadn't taken her wand or her beaded bag from her. Spying the open door to the bathroom connected to the guest room, Hermione remembered how wonderful the shower was inside. She wasn't sure what her favorite part about staying with Draco months earlier had been: his showers or what they did inside them. When was the last time she took the time to shower? If she had to think about it, it was too long.

She'd already been in his flat unconscious for several hours. If he was going to harm her or invite someone else over to do it, he would've already done it. At least that's what she told herself as she stripped off her clothes and turned the taps on. One shower was hardly going to be the end of her world, and if by some chance there was someone waiting for her outside the guest room door, she'd go to her fate clean and comfortable.

Her empty stomach was rumbling by the time she finished her long shower and dressed in fresh clothes. With her wand held tightly in one hand, she carefully pushed the door to the corridor open. No sounds of voices assaulted her ears. All she heard was the sound of breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. It was no wonder her stomach was begging to be filled. It all smelled so delicious. She remained cautious with each step she made. It would do her no good to be complacent. Only when she turned the corner and saw Draco alone did she relax. For the moment, it seemed he hadn't double-crossed her, but the morning was still young.

"Have a seat."

"Are you planning on slipping another potion into my food?"

He had the sense to be at least a little ashamed by his actions. When she saw the faintest pink bloom on his cheeks, she became less afraid that he had some nefarious scheme to explain what he did. It was enough, at least, to convince her that he didn't mean her any harm. If they were existing in some sort of bizarre truce, she was going to take advantage of it. She did as he bid, sitting in the chair that had somehow become hers when she was hiding in his flat.

"Why did you do it, Draco?"

She waited to spring the question on him until they were midway through their silent meal. He set his fork down and wiped his mouth before speaking.

"I was worried about you. You weren't making any bit of sense at all and I thought…"

"You thought I was crazy just like the newspapers are saying."

"Don't put words in my mouth. I never said you were crazy. I never thought you were crazy."

"Not even that night in the forest when I called out for Harry?"

Bringing up such a painful and humiliating experience was never her intention. If she could rid herself completely of the memory of her episode in front of Draco, she would without hesitation. She hated that he'd seen her so vulnerable, so broken. Somehow she knew it was all Rodolphus' fault. She could vaguely remember hearing a dog's bark in the background that night. Maybe he snuck in while they were asleep, pulled whatever horrible trick he used to make her confused, and then barked to wake Draco up so he could witness her shame. It was the only option that made sense.

"I don't even know what happened that night."

"It was your uncle."

"You keep saying that. What's your proof?"

She didn't trust Draco. Not one bit. If he could see an advantage in betraying her, he would. Even though she knew all of that, the entire story of Rodolphus' treachery came tumbling out of her mouth. Though she didn't tell him the name of the memory charms expert or that her brother-in-law helped bring him, she told him every other disgusting detail. He knew about Rodolphus blocking her memories to hide their sexual and possibly romantic relationship, tripping her down the stairs while she was pregnant, and how he cursed her to make her attack her husband because he wanted Antonin dead and her son to hate her. She told him every single horrifying fact that she knew. He needed to be aware exactly what the man he was following was capable of. If he was horrified, he was skilled enough to keep his true thoughts off of his face.

"That sounds… awful."

"You don't believe me?"

"I never said that."

Telling him everything felt like the right decision to make when she was making it, but he had an effective way of making her question everything. It was something she was sure would get old quickly if they spent any significant amount of time with each other. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she shook her head to dispel it. There was no valid reason to consider what any kind of future with Draco would look like. They were enemies. Just because he'd shown her some kindness didn't negate that fact.

"Rodolphus certainly has a mean streak about him. I've seen it myself. He hides it well."

"Then why are you working with him?"

The promise of restoring his family to its former glory was only an acceptable reason to a certain extent. If Draco had no further ambitions or desires, Hermione believed he was wrong to ally himself with an unpredictable man who had a history of manipulating the minds of those he wished to control. It had been her before. Who was to say the next victim wouldn't be Draco? Clearly, Rodolphus' power had gone unchecked for a long time. The more she considered it, the more she assumed there must have been someone in the Magic Registration office on his side. He couldn't have gone four years completely under the radar performing such complicated and delicate spells if he didn't have someone on the inside of the Ministry of Magic working to expunge his records. His plan for ultimate control over the wizarding world had indeed been years in the making, possibly even decades.

Draco seemed to consider his answer for far too long. She was growing impatient. It shouldn't have been a difficult question. Most people only worked with dangerous people like his uncle because of desperation or the thirst for power. Considering she never saw him as being in either category, he must have already thought out his reasons.

"Rodolphus actually has a good plan for the country after the regime. How it will be governed, how it was be structured. He wants to build a new society, one that should endure longer than just one single man's lifetime."

There was always danger in building up a government based around a single person. Dictatorships throughout history learned that lesson the hard way. Maybe eventually enough people would be subjugated to form some sort of peaceful society, but once the head of the government was dead and the succession of power in question, the chaos would tear them apart. If Draco was correct, Rodolphus wasn't looking to set himself up as the next Dark Lord. She was glad to hear that. The sort of power he would amass in that role would be dangerous for everyone. Antonin was seen as a threat to this ideal society because it was well-known that he expected to become the next Dark Lord. Or at least it was assumed. Trusting her instincts, Hermione offered up a little intelligence in the name of peaceful cooperation.

"What if I told you that Antonin has no desire to be the Dark Lord? Would that change your uncle's campaign against him?"

He was surprised. Even he wasn't able to hide that from his face. Considering her words, he didn't immediately respond. Finally, just when she was growing even more impatient and weary of the conversation, he shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. What does he want to do instead?"

"Smuggle his family out of the country and never come back."

His grey eyes narrowed.

"Is that what you want too?"

"Honestly? Yes. I can't bear it here."

"Then why are you still here? Why didn't you and your family run?"

"Do you honestly think Rodolphus is going to just leave me alone? We have to make sure he's not a problem first."

Hermione was taking a gamble being so honest. Especially with a man that had already proven that he would report back what she said to his superior officer like a good little soldier. She knew that Draco would pass along the contents of their conversation, inform Rodolphus that Antonin didn't want to stand in his way to power. Maybe she would come to regret being so open, but she couldn't afford to consider that yet. War wasn't just fought on the battlefield. It was also fought in private conversations between those on opposing sides.

Once her plate was empty, she bit back a yawn. Her body was still exhausted. She hadn't had enough sleep yet. Draco didn't miss it. He never missed anything where she was concerned.

"Stay a little longer, Hermione. Go back to sleep. You'll be safe here. I give you my word that no one will bother you or even know that you're here."

She hoped again a short time later as she slipped between the sheets in the guest room that he was being honest about her safety. It was nice to not be alone.