December 17th

Hermione had to push away her fear of what she would find at the end of her search to keep going. Too many depressing, fatalistic thoughts swirled through her troubled mind. Not a single one was encouraging. Focusing on the silver chain she stole from Draco, she cast his tracking spell. Thorfinn offered to join her, but she was out the front door of the Junk Shop before she even took a moment to consider his offer. Every second counted. She couldn't be sure how much time passed since her husband fought against his attackers.

The chiming of the bells all over the city marking the midnight hour echoed in her ears even as she traveled across the country to his approximate destination. Hardly any time at all had passed since she discovered the bloody scene in the shop. The blood on her hands was already drying. In one she held the chain and in the other she kept a tight grip on Antonin's watch. It would've been just as easy to track him first. Perhaps it would've even been the better decision. With the loss of so much blood, it was entirely possible that he was in critical need. Chasing after Draco first wasn't the logical choice, but she wasn't exactly running on logic that night. Emotions were usually what spurred a Gryffindor into action. Logic and careful analysis was more suited to a Ravenclaw and most of the Slytherins. Acting first and thinking second wasn't how she usually behaved. Only in moments of extreme stress did the worst of her Gryffindor traits come out to play.

If she allowed herself to analyze why she would rather track Draco instead of Antonin, she would have to admit to herself that she was afraid of what she would find if she attempted to cast the tracking spell on the watch. What if it didn't work? Could she have the strength in that moment to keep going forward if it turned out that her husband didn't survive his injuries? Truthfully, it was a miracle that they'd both managed to live as long as they both had in the stress and uncertainty of their world. Someone could've easily stabbed a knife in his back years before. And she'd had enemies who wished her dead since before Harry was killed. Some even loathed her just because of the so-called dirty blood that ran through her veins. Somehow though the Dolohovs were able to keep living. She was afraid that tracking Antonin first might be disheartening.

It came as no surprise to Hermione that she landed just outside of the gates to the Lestrange Estate. Everything kept coming back to Rodolphus after all. Likely he was even one of the attackers in the shop. She had no doubt that he ordered the ambush or whatever it was that happened. As long as Antonin was alive, he was dangerous to the insane man's plans. If his wife was in danger, he would fight to his very last breath. She only hoped that he hadn't made good on his promise to do just that. There was still so much that had been left unsaid and unsettled between them.

She shook her head as if a physical motion would dislodge the thoughts that continued to rush through her mind about missed opportunities and wasted time. What good would it do to worry about what might have been if she'd only stopped lying to herself earlier? There was no way to change the past. Time turners couldn't go back that far in time even if she'd been able to save one from destruction during the battle that took place in the Department of Mysteries when she was a teenager. Allowing her emotions to control her would only result in mistakes and increased danger. She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves and her racing heart.

Once there was a time in her life that she considered herself to be too emotional. When she was a teenager she was frequently on the very edge of bursting into tears at a moment's notice. She was too sensitive and allowed others to have more control over her reactions than she should've. Part of her training to become the notorious and feared Madam Dolohov was to learn how to distance herself from emotions, to become cool and detached. Long years had passed since she was in danger of crying over the slightest insult or allowing herself to feel the fear that had been such a huge part of her adolescence. Her potions helped. Without them, she feared she was reverting back to the person she used to be. While in some ways that was a good thing, she worried that she would become the same overly emotional, impulsive Gryffindor she'd been before she pledged her life to Lord Voldemort.

Nothing would entice Hermione to cross over the boundaries of the estate. She remained outside of the gates out of fear that her presence would be noted. If she could avoid stepping foot on that estate for the rest of her life, she would. Nothing good would come of it. Finding a large hedge that she could hide behind and wait for Draco to leave, she found herself growing gradually calmer and more relaxed. There was no reason to be afraid. What was the absolute worst that could happen to her? She could die? Even that didn't sound that terrible and it was certainly what she deserved.

There was no effective way to tell time while she waited. One glance at her husband's watch proved that it had been broken beyond the scope of what a simple reparo could fix. If she was able to survive what was coming, she vowed to take it to the finest wizarding jewelry store to have it completely refurbished. Antonin was the sort of secretly sentimental fool to keep wearing a broken watch that he cherished than to replace it. Sometimes he could be a romantic idiot. The corners of her mouth twisted up into a small smile at the thought.

As time wore on she was more and more convinced that she'd made the wrong decision. What was she doing waiting for Draco when her husband might need her? Of course, there was the very real possibility that if he wasn't dead, he might be tucked away in some dark, dank hole on the Lestrange estate. Was Rodolphus trying to lure her out of hiding? Taking away her biggest protector was a good start.

Just as she was about to cast the tracking spell on Antonin's broken watch she heard the sound of movement coming her way. Her hiding place wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. Draco passed through the gates walking as if he didn't have a care in the world. Alone, he wasn't even aware that he should be checking his surroundings. Had he grown that complacent with his own safety? So many others had.

"Stupefy."

His arrogance was going to get him killed one day. She couldn't believe that he just walked out of the gates without even taking a good look around. Catching him off-guard hadn't been difficult at all. Before anyone from inside the Dower House or the manor itself could witness what was happening just outside the boundaries, Hermione grabbed Draco's wrist and Disapparated them away.

The Forest of Dean was still and silent that time of night in the middle of winter. It was a place that always made her feel at ease. With both of her boys now dead, it was also the one place besides the castle that she could almost feel them with her. She would hate to leave it if she ever made her way to Brazil, a future that was seeming less and less likely as the year progressed towards its conclusion.

She reached into Draco's pocket to remove his wand. The temptation to strip him completely naked and leave him laying in the snow unconscious to die of exposure made her chuckle. Instead, she was satisfied just to take the silver mirror he'd used to spy on her husband's conversations. How he still managed to have it after that horrible display in Ginny's house made little sense. Likely emotions were high enough in the moment that her husband didn't even think about forcing him to give it back. Or, maybe despite that awful day and what transpired only hours earlier, Draco might have still been working with Antonin. Thanks to Rodolphus' damned spell in her head, no one could tell her anything out of fear that she would unwittingly betray them all.

"Rennervate."

Draco's grey eyes opened wide the moment he came back into consciousness to find himself laying on his back in the snow. Whatever he was expecting to happen moments after leaving his uncle's estate, it wasn't to find Hermione looming over him with his wand in one hand as she pointed hers in his direction. She was going to get answers or she would not be pleased.

"You're getting lazy and sloppy, Draco. You didn't even see me."

He smiled, but it was clear that he was nervous. In an attempt to appear non-threatening he held up both of his empty hands.

"This is a surprise, Hermione. How are you?"

She wasn't in the mood for his snarky questions or his flippant attitude. Already she was beginning to lose her temper. All she wanted was for the spell to be removed from her head so she could kill Rodolphus and move on with her life. Or die. Some days one was more attractive than the other. She held up Antonin's watch and his eyes narrowed.

"Where did you find that?"

"In your cousin's store right next to a large puddle of blood I'm assuming belongs to my husband. What happened?"

It didn't take a well-seasoned interrogator to know that Draco was reluctant to tell her anything. When he tried to stall for time by sitting up, Hermione sent a mild stinging charm straight to his gut. He glared at his attacker, but didn't try moving again. If she had to resort to something a little more painful, she would. He was far from stupid. He knew she would hurt him.

"Merely a little disagreement. Nothing you need to worry your pretty, little head about, Hermione."

"Where's Antonin? Did you kill him?"

"Oh, no, I didn't kill him. Don't you remember the day I told you that I've never killed anyone before?"

Of course she remembered. And the more she thought about that day, the more she believed he was lying. Everyone was lying to her in some form or fashion. It didn't make the least bit of sense that he would've survived as long as he had without shedding enough blood to kill at least one person. The smirk on his lips seemed to prove that her suspicions were correct.

"Where is he?"

"You have his watch. Why don't you try to find him yourself?"

She didn't like his smile. What she once found handsome, she found loathsome in that moment. He was taunting her, daring her to try to track her husband in front of him. Why? Did he know that the spell wouldn't work? Would he use her distress to his advantage and try to get out of the perilous situation he was in?

"It's a simple incantation. Just cast it on the watch and you can find your beloved husband without my help."

The desire to slit his throat with her favorite spell was overpowering. What would happen if she did something that drastic? Evidently there was some sort of agreement between her husband and Lucius Malfoy to keep Draco out of harm. Would Lucius try to kill her in his grief? She didn't fear the drunkard even on his most sober days. Only the very real fear that a man who had nothing to lose wouldn't hesitate to take his anger out on her son kept the curse off of her tongue. And the faintest suspicion that Draco was simply playing a part and there was more to his actions than she was aware of. It was enough to push her fully off the cliff towards her insanity.

"Stupefy."

She threw his wand into the darkness of the forest. When the stunner finally wore off, he would have a challenge finding it, but she didn't care. Doing what she needed to do next would be easier without an audience. Pointing the tip of her wand at Antonin's watch, she took a deep breath and muttered the proper incantation to track him.

Nothing happened. A second attempt yielded the same results. And a third and a fourth.