October 18th

Draco waited an entire day to ask Hermione whether she tracked her husband or not. Maybe he hoped if he was patient enough she would confess on her own. She didn't. They'd already established that what happened outside of his flat was off-limits to discussion. She wasn't allowed to ask him where he went on his mysterious missions and he wasn't allowed to ask her where she disappeared to when she thought he was asleep. It was an arrangement that was destined to fail at some point.

Her late-night visit to Antonin's cottage followed by at least a solid hour of lying awake analyzing every word that was said meant Hermione wasn't interested in rising from bed early the next morning. By the time she woke up and forced herself out of the cocoon of comfort she enjoyed in Draco's bed, he was already gone. As she showered alone and then prepared her own breakfast to eat in solitude, she tried and failed to push away the very valid concern that Draco was reporting to her uncle that she knew how to track her husband and done so successfully. What Rodolphus would make of that knowledge was unknown to her. Maybe nothing, maybe everything.

She was already in bed when Draco finally returned. It was the longest stretch of time he'd been gone at one time since she'd been there after her attack. Either something important was happening or he was just that determined to avoid his houseguest who'd clearly over-stayed her welcome. Hermione was more inclined to believe the latter. Not that she really understood the first thing about the man nor had she ever. One moment he was claiming he was falling in love with her and the next he was betraying her to his uncle. Either the wizard was even more contradictory than she was or he was playing a game she didn't understand the rules to.

Before he slipped into his bed next to her, Draco took the time to enjoy his shower. Tempted to join him, if for no other reason than to gauge whether he was angry with her or not, she chose to remain in bed. He might not appreciate her barging in to his private time. So she waited. It was well past midnight and inching close to one before he pulled back the covers on his side.

"You were gone a long time."

His heavy sigh of frustration indicated he hoped she was asleep. If she had any doubts as to whether he was avoiding her, they were gone. She sat up, not willing to just roll over and go to sleep without having the conversation they needed to have. Draco climbed into bed but didn't close his eyes or turn his back.

"Yes, I was gone a long time and I'm very tired. Can we please just go to sleep?"

It was tempting to give in to his request. Peace was a commodity, exceedingly rare in their present world. Even a single peaceful night could hardly be found, but she wasn't going to just let him brush her off. They were both fooling themselves with the idea that they could keep staying in the same flat together. It didn't make the slightest bit of sense. Why did they ever think it would work? She should've left the moment she had enough physical strength to walk out the door without passing out.

"How's your uncle?"

Draco groaned. Even Hermione was annoyed with her question. She could heard the pettiness in it and she didn't care for how shrill she sounded. Some traits, it seemed, would never change no matter how old a person grew. Not willing to drop the subject since she brought it up, the wizard sat up and stared at her across the bed with increased frustration swirling in his grey eyes. He was nearing his limit.

"He's doing very well, thank you. Asked after you. How's your husband?"

She wasn't the only one who could be petty when it suited. While she wasn't surprised to hear he was aware she tracked Antonin, his remark about Rodolphus unsettled her. What did he mean? Was Rodolphus aware that she was staying in Draco's flat? They were supposed to have a truce inside his home. Was that simply another lie? She wouldn't be surprised. He hardly seemed to know how to go through life without lying. At least to her. Maybe he told the truth to everyone else.

"Rodolphus knows I'm here?"

Realizing what he'd said, Draco sighed. Some of his anger appeared to dissipate, but Hermione wasn't ready to relax just yet. He was still too unpredictable. They both seemed to just be getting started.

"No, he doesn't know you're here."

"Why would you say he asked about me?"

"Because he did. I've been ordered to track you every day and give him a report."

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was. Rodolphus might have explained the broad strokes of his plan to her when she asked him that night she went to visit him. He had yet to, however, tell her what purpose she served. There had to be something special about her if he was ordering her to be unharmed and for Draco to give him a daily report. His claims that he simply wanted her by his side were the ramblings of a lunatic. If that were true, why hadn't he insisted she stay with him? Why did he allow her to run out of the Dower House? To run out of Knockturn Alley the night he pushed her up against the bricks and kissed her until she forgot to be afraid of him for a moment?

"And what do you tell him?"

"The truth. I tell him that I've been able to track you and that you're well. Of course it's not that hard to track you when you're in my flat. It's only when you decide to leave to go to London or to Weasel's house or to find your husband in the middle of the night that I have to expend the slightest bit of effort."

She already suspected that he followed her to Hogsmeade when she went to Ron's. Having him admit it out loud made it all seem so much worse. Was she putting Ron and his family in danger because of her association with him? If she brought up the fact that she'd gone to his house, would Draco find it even more suspicious? Twenty years might have come and gone since they were last friends, but she didn't want him hurt. Not anymore. Most of her anger towards her old friend had long since disappeared. Deciding that she would only make Draco more curious if she mentioned his name, she rolled her eyes and pretended like she wasn't bothered.

"I see you're not denying that you went to find your husband."

"Why should I? Apparently, you already know everything."

The fact that he was jumping straight to accusing her about her husband was encouraging. Either his jealousy was overpowering his desire to learn more about her association with Ron or he didn't think there was anything worth mentioning there. She decided she would try to keep the topic on Antonin as much as possible. Draco fell right in line with her plans. He really didn't like her tracking her husband in the middle of the night.

"I know you took his pajamas."

"Yes, well, it wasn't as if you were really trying to hide them, so I suppose I took your bait. And yes, I did go looking for him. I wanted to know if he'd made any progress on finding his wretched brother."

"Or maybe it was because you were worried about him?"

There were times when she was around Draco that he confused her to no end. She was fuzzyheaded and her head pounded in pain just being in his presence. It was easy to assume that he was casting a spell on her or that he was able to manipulate her mind like his uncle. But, she knew better. What she felt around him was nothing like how she felt around Rodolphus when he was in her mind. It was also nothing like when she was undergoing the intense sessions with Babajide Akingbade. When someone was rooting around in another's brain or casting a spell on it in any way, it was obvious. The victim of the spell couldn't ignore the feeling. Perhaps that was why Rabastan was tasked with ensuring that she was always under the influence of potions. She would have to find out why the additional potions were added. Did they open her mind up to the point that she couldn't even tell when Rodolphus was inside it? She wished that she knew more about potions. Once she was no longer in Hogwarts, she dealt with that branch of magic very rarely.

No, what he did to her was not a spell. Despite there being many instances that she didn't understand her thoughts or feelings when she was around Draco, there were other times that she could see him quite clearly. He was an expert at building walls around himself. It took one to recognize another. When he was conscious in his efforts to remain aloof and unreadable, she would never be able to see what he didn't wish for her to see. Other times, when he was at his most emotional, she could see his barriers slip. Though she might never understand anything about the wizard if she had to spend every single moment of the rest of her life in his presence, she knew one fact that was absolute. He was very jealous of Antonin. Maybe because she'd spent twenty years living with a man who struggled moment by moment to control his prodigious jealousy she could recognize the signs. No matter how he tried to hide it, Draco was jealous of her husband. She didn't really understand why, just that he was.

"Yes, Draco, all right? It was a little bit of both. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to see if he'd been able to find his brother, but yes, I wanted to make sure he was all right."

"You love him."

A snort of a laugh erupted out of her mouth before she could stop it. What a ridiculous notion! As if she had ever been in love with her husband. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and call him an idiot. No, her feelings for Antonin were complicated, but that didn't mean she loved him. Their marriage had been forced. She hardly even knew the man thanks to years of potions and memory charms and violent blows to the head. If she included all of the instances she'd been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse in her time as a Death Eater, there was a high probability that she had permanent brain damage. Even then, she knew that she didn't love Antonin. She didn't love anyone. Not even Augustus. A month in his house taught her the truth of that sad fact. It was possible she'd never loved anyone.

"I'm afraid you've gone barmy, Draco."

"No, I haven't. Maybe you can lie to yourself, Hermione, but you're a shit liar to me. I've known it for awhile."

She refused to believe that anything he said about her feelings for Antonin were the truth. He didn't know about their marriage, didn't know about any of it. He didn't know about the lies she told Antonin for years, about the deceptions she'd committed. No, that wasn't love. Draco was mistaken.

"I don't understand why you're even here when you really want to be with him."

"You already know that I found him the other night. If I wanted to be with him, don't you think I would be there?"

He threw the covers off of his body and jumped up from the bed in a huff. She sighed, knowing that it wasn't going to get any easier. Nothing she said seemed to make the least bit of difference. Clearly they'd reached the moment when she needed to go. Though it pained her to get up, she rose to her feet. Draco stared at her across his large bed.

"I don't want you to come back."

She could appreciate that at least he was finally being honest. What they'd been dancing around since her night of torture was unsustainable. He wanted more than she was willing to give him. Or he was a complete liar and nothing he'd said or done since she'd arrived was the truth. It was possible she would never know which was the truth. Picking up her beaded bag from the table next to what had been her side of the bed, she had nothing else to keep her in the flat. Nothing to say to the wizard who'd been such a bizarre part of her life for almost an entire year.

While Draco remained rooted in the same spot in his bedroom, Hermione took her leave. She wasn't sure where she would go next, but that didn't really matter. It wasn't that long since she'd last had to be creative in finding lodging. Finding Antonin was the most logical choice except she wasn't ready. There was still too much unresolved between them. She needed to find somewhere she could be alone.

As she passed the sofa where they'd first kissed, her eyes fell on the book he'd been reading. A silver chain, far too nice to be a simple bookmark, kept his place. Hermione slipped it into her pocket. Maybe she would need a way to track him at some point. She really had no way of knowing what the future held in store for any of them.