October 13th

Hermione was able to push aside all of her concerns about staying in Draco's flat for another day. When she practically ran from Kingsley's flat, there wasn't even a hesitation on her part to return. She felt safe when she was inside its walls, something she hadn't experienced since she was in Cornwall with her husband, her ex-lover and her son. It might have been wrong to return and continue to live in the confusion, but she didn't care. She just wanted one more day of safety.

After she returned from Kingsley's flat, she was in no hurry to leave again. She tried to return to some semblance of normality in the daytime while she waited for Draco to return home. Or at least attempted to keep her mind occupied. When he walked in late that night to find her back on his sofa, she could see the visible relief all over him. He might have set up his wards to inform him the moment she arrived, but she knew that it was different actually seeing her with his own eyes.

If she wanted her plan to attack all of the people on the list of Rodolphus' allies to be successful, she knew she couldn't wait too long. The world was already too restless. Despite hating every single person who worked for the Daily Prophet and believing that ninety percent of what was printed within its pages was complete rubbish, Hermione knew the world was getting dangerous. Homes and businesses were being attacked just about every single day. Some from the Resistance side and others from the side of the former Death Eaters. It seemed that no one was safe from violence.

"You're far away again. Where'd you go this time?"

The sound of Draco's voice snapped her back to reality. They were both seated on the large sofa in his lounge. He was sipping at a glass of fire whiskey as he read a book and she was holding that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet but not actually seeing any of the words. It was a quaint, domestic scene that would've felt normal if the world outside the front door wasn't so chaotic. She found herself relaxing in Draco's flat far more than she should. That was the main reason she knew she couldn't stay much longer. But, even as she considered leaving, she kept contradicting herself. One moment she couldn't wait to leave and the next she was terrified to take a single step out of the door. Perhaps some of her mental issues weren't related to her potions or Rodolphus' memory charms at all. She'd lived a hard life filled with violence. It made sense that there would be some lasting neurological effects.

"Do you really want to know, Draco? You might not like the answer."

"You can tell me anything you want."

His voice made her long to trust him, but she knew it would be foolish. Hadn't he already proven that he would stop at nothing, including turning her entire life upside down, just to satisfy the orders that came from his uncle? She wished that she understood what the draw of Rodolphus was, what he was trying to accomplish that so many people were willing to risk their lives and their integrity to throw their lot in with his. It had to have been good. Remembering Kingsley's words about trying to find out the actual plan of the madman who fucked with her mind and messed up her memories, she grew angry inside again. What was Kingsley's angle? Could he be trusted? She worried that her husband had allied himself with another person who would betray him. Antonin had the worst judgement in people, it seemed. After all, what sort of fucked up person falls in love with the monster he helped to create?

She shook her head, desperate to dislodge the thoughts that were threatening to drive her mad. Antonin was in love with an illusion, the promise of the woman she could be. Just like so many pathetic women who had fantasies of 'fixing' the men they loved, he still clung to the hope that he could love her enough to make her into the person he wished she would be. Millions, perhaps billions, of women since the beginning of the time failed in their quest to change their men. Loving the potential of a person was madness. While it was always possible that a person could become their best self, it was just as likely that they could become their worst self too. Antonin was in love with a fantasy, a fantasy that she wished she could give him. All she had to offer was her brokenness. Who would ever desire that?

"I saw my husband the other day."

Draco closed his book with a deep, heavy sigh. Setting it down on the table in front of the sofa, he turned his entire body to look her in the eye. She wasn't sure why she admitted the truth or what would happen next, but it seemed important that she tell him. He should understand that it would only be a matter of time before she sought the man out again. There was too much history to just forget him and move on.

"Where? What happened?"

"Doesn't matter where. It was actually an accident, if you'll believe it. I didn't know he would be there."

"Did you go back to Ginny's?"

She shook her head, ignoring the fact that she had gone back days before. The thought of talking to anyone about the conversation she had with the woman who was fucking her husband made her sick to her stomach. There was nothing that Hermione could offer Antonin that would mean more to him than the daughter he didn't know he shared with Ginny. She suspected that Percy knew the truth about Maisie. If she caught him alone at any point in the near future, she would confront him about it.

"Antonin returned to the cottage after you rescued me. Found it empty except for my blood and was worried."

"He was relieved to see you?"

"Yes, he was. Very much so."

"Because he still loves you."

The hint of petulance in his tone put Hermione on edge. She didn't want to argue with him about her husband's feelings for her. Where would that get them? There was always a possibility that when the dust settled on their new world that everyone would get a chance to start over. Maybe the simpler life she longed for would be possible. It might even be possible to be more than just a late night, hidden dalliance with the man who had once bullied her in school. She didn't know. All of them could be dead before it was over and then it wouldn't even matter. But she knew that she never wanted to be with another man that she couldn't trust. If Draco wanted to prove to her that he could be honest, there might be hope. After all, she didn't expect her husband to want anything to do with her once he found out about his daughter. He'd probably build a new family with Ginny and she'd only get to see her son on special occasions and half the holidays a year. If Draco wanted to build something real out of the inevitable wreckage of her marriage, he would have to prove to her that he could be trusted.

"Yes, he still loves me. He wants to make his brother and Wood pay for what they did to me."

"And then what? Then what will you do, Hermione? Go back to him to rebuild some perfect, little fucked-up family? Is that what you really want?"

"I don't know what I want, Draco, but I know what I don't want. I'm tired of being kept in the dark, of not knowing what you're really up to. I don't want to keep pretending that it's not a big deal that I have no idea what you're doing or why you're still with your uncle even after everything you know he's capable of doing."

She knew that it was unhealthy for her to continue to be around a man who didn't seem bothered at all by the epic mind fuck his uncle subjected her to, even if it was hard to walk away. How long could she keep ignoring the fact that Draco was involved with her enemies? Why did she keep coming back to his flat when she knew it was best that she avoid him? Once the conversation was started, she knew that she had to get some answers. No longer would she stay hidden in the dark. It was too frustrating and they were literally dealing with life and death.

"You said that Rodolphus had a good plan, a plan that you wanted to see be successful. Why? What is his plan?"

"Hermione, I've already told you that…"

"You've told me nothing, Draco. Nothing. Why is his plan so good? How am I involved? Why would he order that I not be harmed?"

Reluctant was not a strong enough word to describe Draco in that moment. He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. None of the questions she asked were met with any suitable answer. Hermione grew more and more frustrated. She was exhausted of not knowing what was happening. Ignorance might be bliss for many, but it wasn't for her.

"Are you just going to stay silent? Are you not going to answer any of my questions?"

Draco had a tendency to withdraw into himself when he was uncomfortable or afraid. It was a personality trait she'd noticed years earlier when they were in their sixth year. He isolated himself while he tried to figure out how he was going to fulfill the impossible task of murdering Albus Dumbledore. Faced with an angry Hermione, he retreated inside himself again. Perhaps not to the same extent, but it was enough to prove that he had a bad habit of running away when life got difficult. Rising to his feet, he crossed the lounge and headed straight for his bedroom. The slamming of the bathroom door moments later seemed to indicate he was done talking.

She'd had enough. If he wanted to behave like a petulant, spoiled brat because she asked him some hard questions, so be it. She didn't have to stay there any longer. Once she did a sweep of the flat to be certain she'd left nothing behind, Hermione left. She walked out of the front door with the intention of never returning. Draco couldn't be trusted. And perhaps even more upsetting, he didn't believe that she could be trusted either.

It was almost midnight. The streets were dark and the night air was cool. She couldn't linger outside his building without a solid plan for very long. As tempting as it was to stay there longer in hopes that Draco would come searching for her to apologize and spill all of his secrets, she knew that was a naïve hope. She focused on her next destination, Disapparating away before she could talk herself into lingering a moment longer.

The gates to the Lestrange Family estate were still open. Hermione scoffed. Clearly, the idiots hadn't learned their lesson days earlier when she attacked Gemma. Or maybe they hoped that she would make a repeat visit. It didn't really matter. Protective wards on the gates or not, she knew she was taking a big risk being there again. If Rabastan saw her, he would be out for blood. No one threatened his children without repercussions.

She ignored the looming manor house to focus her attention on the Dower House. Though her feet felt like lead with each step she took, she forced herself towards the house. Either she would die that night or she would finally have some answers. Sitting around being lied to or ignored was no longer enough for her.

Rodolphus opened the door to his home after a single knock. When his eyes fell on his guest, he smiled brightly and stepped to the side to welcome her inside.

"I've been wondering when you were going to come."

Hermione took a step forward, ignoring all of her fears and concerns. If she wanted answers, she would have to be brave enough to go straight to the source.