October 12th

Another awkward morning with Draco passed. With each day that she lingered in his flat, Hermione felt the two of them drifting further and further apart. Not that they were all that close to begin with. Their relationship, if it could even be called that, had been odd from the very beginning. Unhealthy even. Of course, she wasn't sure that she would even know what to do with a relationship that wasn't. She hadn't had a healthy relationship with anyone since her fourth year when she had her brief dalliance with Viktor Krum. Though memorable, it wasn't long-term. Maybe if it had been allowed to continue, they would've fallen into the same pit of unhealthiness as all of her other relationships. She was probably the problem.

If Draco was surprised to find her in his flat when he returned hours after she did from whatever mysterious mission he was on, he didn't say so. Neither one of them were brave enough to actually put their concerns and fears into words. Perhaps by giving voice to their worries, they believed they would bring them to life. It was an immature method to handle the situation. Death Eaters were emotionally stunted thanks to the path they'd chosen to travel down. Hermione wasn't sure it was ever possible for any in their ranks to have meaningful, fulfilling relationships with anyone.

Guilt plagued Hermione every single second that she was awake and the emotion colored her dreams as she slept. She believed that the reason she was no longer content to stay with Draco and why she wasn't rushing to escalate their physical relationship again was because of that wretched emotion that consumed her. She felt guilt that she was essentially living with a man who wasn't her husband. Guilt because she fought against her old friends for so many years. Guilt because she didn't feel guilty about making the hard choices that allowed her to survive. Guilt because she was a terrible mother. Guilt because she'd been an even worse wife. If she allowed herself, she could sit in a puddle of guilt for the rest of her life and never find the way out. It was why she couldn't always focus when she was around Draco, why she dwelled on him when she wasn't near him. The biggest source of her present guilt came from protecting the wizard and actually seeking out his company.

Once she had a fear that Draco was able to mess with her mind the way his uncle could. Maybe that would explain why she felt so fuzzyheaded around him or why when she was making love to her husband thoughts of the pale haired wizard and all of the debauched acts they'd committed over the previous year seeped into her mind. But, no, she knew better. He was a manipulative arsehole without a doubt. One who fought for himself and had his own nefarious agenda. That didn't mean that he was fucking with her mind using magic. No, it was different. He was fucking up her mind with an emotion that she tried never to allow herself to feel.

Regret was more powerful than guilt. Every time she stepped into Draco's presence Hermione felt it wash over her in waves. How much different would their lives have been if they'd been free to pursue an actual, innocent relationship? She didn't think it was possible that they would've been able to get past their differences while they were at Hogwarts together, but what about afterwards? When they were both adults and had matured? If the war ended with a victory for Harry Potter and those that believed him to be the Chosen One, there was a possibility that she could've had an honest relationship with Draco. Fallen in love and had a future. She'd pushed aside the fantasies when they were together in their stolen moments. Living with him, waking up next to him made it almost impossible to ignore. She felt like she was living in a haze when she was around him, not because of magic or potions or anything else external. She was fighting a losing battle within herself because she regretted that they would never have a chance to be normal. She wanted to love him even when she knew it was impossible. Neither of them were the people they should have been able to grow into. It was a dangerous game to live on regrets.

She needed to get out of Draco's flat if she wanted to breathe normally again. Every second she was there she felt a choking in her throat, a heaviness in her heart, and a clenching in her guts. Ensuring that everything she owned was still inside her beaded bag, Hermione left sometime around mid-morning. Draco wasn't even home to watch her leave or to demand she tell him where she was going. Maybe it was easier for him if he avoided her as well. With her destination in mind, she Disapparated away from Draco's building to a much less fashionable section of the city.

Kingsley smiled brightly when he opened the door to find her standing there. Inviting her in without hesitation, Hermione wondered if the wizard was playing his own part in the intricate game. Paranoia was a sure sign that she was losing her mind, she decided. Of course everyone had their own agenda. She couldn't allow her fear to distract her though. One glimpse around the tiny flat told her that Antonin was no longer there. Not that she expected him to stay long. He had an important mission to complete after all.

"Antonin left my flat about ten minutes after you did and I haven't seen him since."

"Have you always been able to read minds or am I a special case?"

She was teasing him and felt her spirits buoyed when he laughed. Gesturing to the sofa she'd spent weeks on in the past, he invited her to take a seat. A small part of her was disappointed to learn that Antonin wasn't there. She was worried about him and curious about his success in tracking his brother down. But she also couldn't deny that she was excited about the prospect of being able to speak privately with Kingsley. She had a number of questions swirling around in her exhausted brain to ask him.

"I've been expecting you to drop in for a few days now. Couldn't imagine it would be too long before you returned to satisfy your curiosity."

"You're right, of course. I do have a lot of questions. It was a bit of a shock to show up on your doorstep the other morning and find Antonin here. You said that you two hated each other."

"We did and sometimes we still do."

If the man was going to speak in riddles, Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to remain patient for long. She wanted answers, not more questions.

"You both said the other day that your partnership began eight years ago. Why?"

Kingsley sighed, but his smile never left his face. No doubt he'd been preparing himself for days for the line of questions she would ask. She resolved that if he didn't give her answers, she would just walk away. Life was entirely too short to remain rooted in place for nothing more than just sheer aggravation.

"My wife was murdered."

Whatever she expected him to say, it wasn't anything close to that. Hermione knew nothing about the years between the end of the war and present day when it came to Kingsley. He was a complete mystery. She'd thought for years that he was dead. It seemed impossible that anyone could live for two decades off of the Ministry's radar. She wasn't sure how he did it.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I wasn't aware you were married."

"She was a wonderful woman. We were married seven years. Not long enough, but they were good years."

"Did I know her?"

He shook his head, emotion evident all over his face. Even so many years after her death it was difficult to talk about the woman he loved.

"She was a Muggle. Didn't even know that witches and wizards existed. I shielded her from our world, promising myself that I wouldn't tell her anything unless we had a child who started to show signs of magic."

"How did she…?"

"Artemius Jugson…. Fucking bastard."

Jugson was one of the Death Eaters in the Inner Circle that rarely got any attention. Hermione hardly knew him before his untimely demise because he mostly kept to the sidelines. He'd seen enough action that he wasn't eager to climb his way to the top. Besides, he had a disgusting belief about Muggle-borns that made her loathe and despise the monster from the beginning of her career. More than a few times he made it clear to her that he believed she should've been murdered long before she was ever able to pick up a wand.

"We were having a wonderful night out and the bastard appeared out of nowhere. It was an accident. I led us too close to Diagon Alley without even thinking about it. After so many years away, it's easy to forget. He was coming out of the Leaky Cauldron when he spotted me. Remembered me from a few times he was on the wrong side of my wand in my auror days. I tried to get us away, but I wasn't fast enough. He thought it was funny to kill her while I watched unable to defend either of us."

Hermione loathed the vast majority of the Death Eaters. Most of them were cruel and homicidal. She wasn't surprised to hear about the murder of Kingsley's wife in the slightest. It was how some of the bastards played with their prey. Kill their loved ones and then kill them. She hated that she was guilty of doing the same in the past.

"I didn't even have a wand on me. Didn't think I'd need one. When my wife fell, there was a crowd. He wasn't able to finish me off. Had to run like the coward he was. When I got back to our flat, I dug through cartons in the cupboard until I found my wand. Went back to the Leaky Cauldron to try to find him. Found your husband instead."

"And he helped you?"

"Eventually. Must've caught him in a generous mood. He took me to a pub, if you can believe that, to come up with a plan. He'd suspected that I would come back to try to kill Jugson. Said he wanted to get rid of Jugson too. Something about him insulting his wife."

"That's not surprising. The rat hated me. I didn't even listen to half the words he said."

"I didn't know at the time that you were Antonin's wife. Wasn't important. We came up with a plan and killed the arsehole. Didn't bring my Mary back though. Fucking bastard."

It was still so bizarre to Hermione to hear about the fairly good deeds her husband committed that she wasn't aware of. Killing a wizard because he insulted his wife? She struggled to understand how she could've lived with the man for twenty years and not known the first thing about him.

"The real reason I took you in when you were sick wasn't because of our friendship or the Order days. It was my way of thanking Antonin for his help. Seemed fair. I saved his wife and he helped avenge mine."

"And you've been working together ever since? What about the day I asked you to distract him so I could help Aberforth escape?"

His face split into another one of his wide grins.

"Who do you think sent him the owl that morning?"

She rolled her eyes, annoyed with both men.

"I told him that you were up to something and had asked me to create a diversion. That's why he ran out over breakfast. Had to make it look real."

"I hate you both."

Deciding that she didn't want to hear anymore, Hermione confided in him her plan for the list she'd received. She wanted to know if he thought it was a good one. For a reason she didn't understand, she still valued his input. When she was finished, all smiles and laughter were gone. He was back to being the formidable auror she remembered.

"It's a good plan, but I only have one question."

"What is that?"

"Do you know what Lestrange's plan is?"

"No."

"Maybe you should figure that out before you decide it isn't worth considering first."

Something about the wizard's response made her ill at ease. Was he actually suggesting that she defer to Rodolphus if it turned out he had a good plan? An uncomfortable feeling she couldn't shake crawled over her entire body. She thanked him for his time and made her excuses to rush out of his flat.